Day 285: Modify

IMG_3022Today we attempted the second of three summit hikes to Calloway Peak.

The plan was to take on the most rugged of the three, which starts just past the Grandfather Mountain “swinging bridge” parking lot–a 5-mile (more or less) out and back hike across the exposed rock ridges of MacRae Peak and Attic Peak.

But we had to modify our plans….

It wasn’t the weather that did us in, though there was a heavy fog most of the day, and the employee at the gate gave us the standard “treacherous trails” warning as we started up the road. And it wasn’t the physical challenge of the trail itself, though on more than a few occasions the grade certainly earned its “most strenuous” rating.

No, it was the ladders.

We brought our dog with us, who on many other trails has proven himself to be the reincarnation of a Tibetan goat. But he met his match with the MacRae Peak ladders.

He scrambled his way past the first ladder ascent, but the second and third were his undoing. He made the summit rather ingloriously, as a parcel under my son’s arm.

Once we reached MacRae Peak, we still had almost another mile ahead of us, down into MacRae Gap before ascending again (more ladders and cables) to Attic Peak and then finally Calloway.

We took a reality check and decided to cut back on the “low road” Underwood Trail and call it a day.

There’s a strength in perseverance, to be sure. But there is also a wisdom in knowing when you have reached a limit.

 

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Day 284: Acknowledge

OK, I’m feeling a little tight on words by Day 284, I guess. Tonight’s posting should really be “encourage” or “support,” but I’m going to have to go with “acknowledge.”

Our bedroom has pretty much become the last refuge of post-move chaos in the house. I have tackled about as much as I can, but a majority of what is left to do is my wife’s stuff. I know she has felt a bit overwhelmed by the bedroom, and I have tried to lend a hand when I could, but today she made major steps to tame the clutter on her own.

And all I had to do was support and encourage her at various points during the day–and to let her know that I appreciated all that she was doing.

A little acknowledgement goes a long way, I think.

 

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Day 283: Roast

I had thought that American chestnuts were a thing of the past. Oh sure, I had heard that chestnut trees were coming back, but I didn’t know that orchards were producing domestic nuts.

I am happy to report that chestnut trees are alive and well in North Carolina, and  producing a bountiful harvest.

Well, technically these trees are hybrids–American chestnuts grafted onto Chinese, blight-resistant trees, but they are local, nonetheless.

I grew up eating castagnas, mostly around Christmas time. In my mind, chestnuts were always an Italian thing. It was only after I met my wife’s father, and started to visit up in the mountains of North Carolina, that I learned that once upon a time, mountain roads in Southern Appalachia were dotted with roadside shacks selling roasted chestnuts.

So it’s a heartwarming convergence for me to have found chestnuts at a roadside produce stand the other day. After dinner,

I roasted a tray–no, not on an open fire… it’s a little too warm for that. But I have to say, the smell and taste put me in mind of other times–my own, and others’.

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Day 282: Relocate

No, not homes. We’ve done that once already this year, and hopefully won’t be moving houses for a while.

No, tonight I relocated stuff. The bedroom is still a pretty chaotic place–not exactly the refuge I had tried to put together in our old house. I won’t say I did anything as drastic as I did back on day 26, but it was a start–just some rearranging of clothes, really, and a clearing out of one, tiny corner.

But it was an improvement. And as I’ve said before, sometimes the small victories have to be good enough.

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Day 281: Rehabilitate

Have I mentioned that I am on my fiftieth journey around the sun?

I would say I am pretty healthy for my age–and in fact, I am sure I am healthier now than I was a decade ago. But this body has its limits, and at times it shows its wear and tear.

No surprise I have been doing a lot of climbing since moving to the mountains. And this past weekend, and for the week leading up to it, I’ve been climbing even more frequently. Add to that a job with lots of keyboard-and-mouse work, and you get a cranky elbow.

I’ve been ignoring it for a few days now, and promising myself if that telltale pain continued I would do something to treat it. Nothing too intense: maybe throw some ice on it and do a few exercises. That sort of thing.

So tonight, after wincing while unloading the dishes, I actually overcame the denial and started into the rehabilitation.

It didn’t take too long, just ten repetitions of a simple exercise to strengthen the tendon, followed by some icing sessions. Now it will just take the discipline of sticking to the treatment–and trying not to exacerbate the injury too much over the coming week or so.

When it comes to injuries, I tend either to ignore what’s really there or allow the magnitude of the injury to become overblown in my head. Neither response is very helpful. Nor is either based in reality.

I have had “humility” described to me as being right-sized–the ability to see oneself in accurate measure, both strengths and weaknesses.

So off I go, for another round of icing–and another dose of humility.

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Day 280: Relegate

Well, this post may seem like another cop-out entry, but it really isn’t. I’m having to decide, right now, what’s really the most important way for me to spend the last few moments of this day–writing this blog post, or taking some time to catch up with my wife on the events of a long day, now that the kids are off to bed.

So, tonight I’m keeping my priorities in order. And that is absolutely the best thing I can do for myself today.

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Day 279: Mingle

Another one of those “out of my comfort zone” days.

It always amuses me when people tell me that I seem at ease at social gatherings. The truth is that I often feel awkward, out of place, and without much to say. Perhaps everyone feels that way, and we are all better actors than we realize….

Tonight, we had a work-related annual dinner, held at a posh resort just down the road. By this point at work, I definitely have some familiar faces to turn to, but no matter how you cut it, I am still the new guy, and most of my colleagues have worked together for close to a decade, if not longer.

So my goal tonight: just to feel at ease–to feel like I belonged where I was at. Because of course I do (as one commenter on this blog noted a couple of months back, “wherever you go, there you are.”) And I know that. Intellectually at least. But I don’t always feel it.

So that was my goal tonight–not to be the life of the party or the liveliest wit, but just to be one many invited guests. And for the most part it worked. Off an on at least. I mingled, I made small talk, and I blended in. I don’t know if I would go as far as to say I was where I was supposed to be, but in those moments of ease, I was definitely where I was–instead of caught up in my head.

Oh, and the grilled salmon was amazing. Good food always helps me be in the moment!

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Day 278: Infuse

We had a nice cold snap the past couple of days, with our first light frost this morning. We’ve started in on that wood stack, but I think even if we are burning fires every day, it should last us for some time. It will warm up again over the next couple of days, for sure, but we are well into fall, and the cool days and cold nights and mornings are on their way.

I start each day with coffee, but most nights I drink tea. Often I make up just a single mug of something, but tonight, I brewed a whole pot of lapsang souchong, a very smoky black tea. It’s a family favorite, mostly because it reminds the kids of camping and tea brewed over the campfire. I can drink it any time of the year, but I have to admit it just seems to taste a little better when there’s a fire going and there’s a nip in the air.

But sipping tea tonight got me to thinking about another kind of “infusing”–namely, the way in which my own attitude and outlook and interactions with others can start to pervade in the household. For better or for worse.

Tonight it was impatience and irritation’s turn to steep for a while. It only took about five or ten minutes of frustration with a family member sitting in front of the computer for me to sour the mood in the house for a while. I realized what was happening as it was happening–which is good, I suppose–and did my best to change up the brew, so to speak. Apologies are good remedies, especially when they are sincere. So is forgiveness.

The house has settled back down again. The fire is starting to burn down as the kids head off to bed. I have poured myself another cup of tea, and soon I will be heading off to bed as well. But first, a little reading in front of the fire, a little more tea, and a little more appreciation for the pleasures of a peaceful home.

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Day 277: Blend

It’s been a long day, so I’m keeping this post short.

I think I have written about this sort of thing before, but today I had another opportunity to reintegrate parts of my life back in Atlanta with our new lives up here.

This weekend, our climbing community hosted a competition that brought hundreds of climbers from around the southeast to one of our local crags. And amongst those hundreds of climbers were some of our friends, a number of whom I hadn’t seen since July. I really appreciated the opportunity to reconnect.

But what was particularly enjoyable was having these old friends up here in our new home town, and seeing how, even though so much of our daily lives have changed, our friendships haven’t. Of course we don’t see each other as often, but it was comforting to see those “ties that bind” stretching from Atlanta up here in the mountains.

 

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Day 276: Host

I’ve written before about how much easier it is for me to be a host rather than a guest. And while I’ve learned much by allowing myself to be someone’s guest, tonight I get to sing the praises of playing host to others.

We have a really good friend staying with us this weekend. It’s the first time we have had any overnight guests staying with us, and it has felt very satisfying to open up our house to her and her children. We didn’t do anything special to prepare–ok, we might have tidied up a bit and changed the bed sheets, but nothing fancy. I cooked an easy meal, then we went into town for ice cream and caramel apples, and then back to our house for some easy conversation.

Now everyone is off to bed (except me–in the kitchen, typing away), hopefully comfortable and hopefully feeling at home.

It’s supposed to be a cold morning tomorrow. We might even see our first frost. I have kindling ready in the fireplace for when I wake up.

I’ll probably be the first up, which is fine by me. I will get the fire going, start the coffee, and then scramble up some eggs.

That sounds too simple for such a formal sounding word like “host.”

And the more I think about it, the more it seems that whatever pleasure I get in hosting others comes from that very simple, yet very primal act of welcoming someone to share in something that is as much a place as it is an idea–home.

And I guess that also means before I can open my home to others, I first have to recognize the home that I have.

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