Being retired leaves very little time and energy to accomplish all the things I’m trying to do!
My first event was attending both the first and second sermons at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. For me, it was very emotionally uplifting because it was about accepting one’s self as satisfactory just the way we are. That setting very high standards for accomplishment for ourselves can make life needlessly stressful because of the constant failure to measure up to our self-imposed goals. The recommendation was that instead of feeling bad when you fail, and fail, and fail again, just lower your standards. We all laughed.
After several chats with the people at the UU, I drove downtown to meet Debbie and we went to the Sintra Cafe for lunch. It was excellent as always. We go there about one Sunday a month. It is one of a half dozen restaurants that we attend regularly on Sunday afternoons. After going to the same places for several years they all treat us like visiting family. There are a lot of places here in Bend that are like that for me.
After finishing lunch we meet our friend Leigh Anne at Dudley’s bookstore/coffee shop and chat for an hour about the fun stuff we are doing. She’s an artist, so that’s a major topic that interests each of us in our own way.
Debbie heads off to the library to drop off books and pick up the newly reserved ones, and we plan to meet back at the car in ten minutes. I head down to Mirror Pond to check on the photo opportunities. As I pass the Commons Coffee shop I take a quick photo but don’t go in because a conversation would probably make me late getting back to the car on time.
As it happens my friend Ray is walking past, so I chat with him for a bit about the BEND plaza we are standing on, and how the word BEND is formed in its iconic format.
I’m headed down to the fence by the right side of the pink tree to take my intended photo.
The dock is still covered with some trampled snow, which gives it a texture, and the clouds form an excellent contrast to the blue sky, which when reflected on the water brings the whole view to shimmering life. The water has been lowered about three feet while some work is being done a half-mile downstream so there is a mud bank visible the other side of the river.
This whole series of events got me back to the car just as Debbie was getting in. The timing was perfect.
I have been working on a method of walking on water. Not for myself but for tourists. I suspect many people would like to have a video and a few still photos of them walking on water, accompanied by some local Canada geese. I have a way of helping them do that just a short distance off of this dock where the water is flowing at walking speed. I have proposed this to my friend Daniel and asked him to help me with the arrangements, but he is more enthused with his two-week bike trip in the Wallowa Mountains in a few weeks. Maybe later.
I wanted for it to be Daniel to do the project with me because it was while talking with him that I invented the idea for how to do it.
June 18, 2017 – Clockwork Purple – writers group
Our random book was chosen by Gail:
Entering the Circle by Olga Kharitidi, MD.
The random page 10 chosen unseen by Aingeal;
Line 11 was chosen unseen by Charles.
Prompt with 45 minutes plus two for tidying up – Alexa set the timer for 47 minutes and the prompt was read aloud.
I hoped the poor fellow would survive.
It was a lovely spring Sunday morning there in Bend, Oregon, and many people were settled into their seats in the many local churches, restaurants, and bars taking in their personal spiritual nourishment with their friends. Everyone but Richard. He was having a slow, lonely stroll along the Deschutes River, just walking. Nothing special, just walking and sort of enjoying himself and the lovely view. The exact place was a path on the water’s edge of Mirror Pond some twenty feet below a decorative railing that had been installed a year earlier. He watched the ducks for a moment, and not thinking in any conscious way he idly decided to sit on the rustic wooden bench and figure out what these ducks were doing.
After a minute it became obvious to Richard that they were totally involved in doing ducky things. Swimming along, and occasionally ducking their ducky heads into the pond to the bottom of the shallow places with their ducky bottoms sticking into the air, and apparently finding things they loved to eat. He mused that those things he would probably find disgusting, but maybe not. He reconsidered. Hmm, chances are those ducks have very refined palates and are choosing delectable little things. If I carefully chose enough of those little things the ducks struggled so hard to get and had them cooked up by Dave, the chef over at the Drake restaurant only a one-minute walk from his spot, they might be able to make the best entrée imaginable. That was the idle thought drifting through Richard’s mind when a single but very colorful mallard skidded into the little group of half-submerged ducks.
For a few moments everything was quiet, and the various ducks were just swimming about appearing to Richard to be about to go searching for another tasty treat on the bottom of the pond when – SMASH – and in an instant, there was total chaos. Wings beating the water and air, raucous squawks deafening to Richard’s ears, and this interloper obviously was creating a huge kerfuffle. He was attacking first one duck then another of the previously peaceful flock.
This was totally crazy! It seemed totally stupid. Outrageous! Richard was so annoyed he looked around for a rock, or stick, or anything he could throw at that awful bird. Anything that would chase that vicious unwanted bully away.
The pursuit of one of the male ducks was so scary and chaotic that he accidentally flew directly into a bush hanging over the water and got entangled, and soon he was hanging there helplessly ensnared. The more he struggled the more entangled he became.
“I hoped the poor fellow would survive,” said Richard out loud, even though there were no humans around to hear his heartfelt plaint, and as he said that, the bully flew off with the most lovely of the hens. “Well,” thought Richard, “I guess this is how survival of the fittest works,” and he headed off to continue his lonely walk.