Jobs

Another fine day recently prompted an unplanned outing. Although they are often the most rewarding, I wouldn’t say that this one was particularly so, but we are never badly disappointed.

We found our way back to the Deerfield River in Massachusetts.

.

When we first found it some weeks ago, the canopy had not filled in and the rocks were free of growth. As I recall, an early-rising mosquito got me even then. Now, they were out in force.

.

Never the less, we made our way cautiously to the river, a good test for a new pair of shoes. Years ago, I got a pair of Reeboks which saw me safely march many miles, in many places.They were the best walking shoes I ever had and I was quite sad when they eventually wore out, but by then I was no longer capable of walking far in any case.

These days, my ankles need a little support. Scrabbling over uneven rocks is not the most sensible activity for one who is wobbly, but I lean on a hiking stick, as Grant holds my other hand and I don’t exceed my limitations.

.

Before degenerative discs became a problem, I had adhered strictly to a daily exercise routine for decades. Following a spinal fusion there was no chance that I would regain the mobility I’d once had, but I got physical therapy and determined that I would be as active as possible. Otherwise, I would surrender to old age and at only 52, I was not prepared for that.

Because it was very stressful, sometimes exhausting and increasingly frustrating, I had been considering leaving my job with the airline for a long time, yet I remained for the benefits. Even with reduced mobility, I could have stayed on, but in a small office, it would have meant my colleagues carrying more of the load and I was unwilling to accept that situation, so I retired early, after 38 years with the airline.

In a way, it was a relief. When thinking of leaving, I’d dreaded the idea of winding down to a last day and all the goodbyes such as I’d witnessed retiring colleagues endure over the years. Goodbyes have always been hard for me, but the way it worked out, I took sick leave and simply never went back, thus avoiding all the sadness.

.

Within months of two spinal surgeries, I packed up my townhome and moved to a large, three-story house in order to open a foster home for cats. It may sound extraordinary, but really it wasn’t, as while caring for cats, I’d met Grant and it was he who did the hard physical work. My part was creating a website and answering phone calls.

Still, all those stairs were a challenge. Every time I needed something, it seemed to be up or down and then there was the garden, on a very steep slope. It was an undertaking, for sure, yet I am certain that the physical activity was essential. Had I sat in a chair with my feet up all these years, I would by now be a really old lady, old in mind as well as in body.

.

When we are out and about, I often find myself noticing old people and having to acknowledge that quite possibly, they are younger than me. I think back to when I dealt with elderly passengers at the airport. We tried to be patient and understanding, but it is hard when you are busy and short-staffed. Was I always as compassionate as I ought to have been? Do young people look at me now and consider me an old nuisance?

Oh for a world with a gentler pace and kinder people!

.

We found another place to stop where a short footbridge overlooked the river and from there I managed to capture a butterfly with the telephoto.

A White admiral, according to Google.

Years ago while visiting a lepitopterium, I thought perhaps butterfly house attendant would have been the perfect job for me.

But I suspect there is no such thing as perfect.

.