Seniors
Jenni found a new place to live for our return from Slovenia. We popped into a hotel for a few days as the short-term lease was only due to commence 4 days after our arrival in San Diego. ‘It was obvious that we returned to soon’, I tried to convince our recovering but sturdy editor.
We met our landlady outside the house, a unit within a massive complex for those whom have reached the age of at least fifty-five. The editor just scrapes by that number but I suggested she take some form of identification in case she had to prove her age. I relied on my face to provide the necessary evidence. We entered the unit and I immediately had a panic attack. This place would not work—it was too large—perhaps three and nearly 4-times our regular size of accommodation. We were struck at first, figuratively of course, by the passage way. It stretched way into the distance so that leading off it was a lounge, dining room, kitchen, study, second bedroom and finally, a main bedroom beyond the shadows. On the other side of the passage sits another full bathroom and laundry area. Jenni, realizing my dilemma of 'drowning' in space, rubbed my neck gently, trying to restore calm within me. For this I was grateful and after a few moments, I was ready to proceed on the tour although I’d miss the massage.
Having discovered the depths, nooks and crannies and of course, the internet access code, Phyllis, our landlady took us to the community center which houses the gym, lawn bowls, swimming pool, terrific library and all the entertainment rooms that the elderly enjoy in this formal but most pleasant setting. I can see myself commencing sewing and rock-painting classes before this sojourn in San Diego ends. By means of a ‘fob’, access is controlled. We were officially registered-we had arrived. Our first impression is that Seniors know how to live—it’s all their accumulated experience. Just in case anyone reading this gets the wrong impression, it seems that we relate best of all to the generation before us. We believe they are a superior generation than the one to which we belong. Okay, youngsters, try your best shot as we once again live dangerously.
Having gained sufficient information about the development, we moved our belongings into the unit, had a little difficulty remembering where we’d placed things but soon were up-and-running, so to speak. By the way, people were most friendly and whomever we spoke to, provided us with interesting information about life in Rancho Bernardo and personal tips and other factoids about their own lives. The only downside we noticed is that between the center and our unit is a golf course. As we are not willing to trespass (hmm!), it means unlike most instances when we walk over to the gym, we now either have a big run there-and-back or should take the car. When we were golfers, it would have required a three-wood and 6-iron to reach not the green but the gym. When not on the trails, we realize we still need and want to keep fit so we undertake cross-training when resting. Of course, this is good for the body and mind but we don’t find it too interesting being in a gym. Thus, it requires extra effort. However, the reward following a successful workout, as most will attest, is wonderful.
For our first visit to the gym, Jenni suggested we get there early to beat the crowd as well as start the day off on the right foot. She can be a little bossy at times and when I’m a little rebellious I’ve been known to use my left foot first—this annoys her but it’s sort of my petty revenge. Unfortunately, the fob caused a red light to glow and did not allow entry on our first morning. Also, there wasn’t a soul about—so much for the need to beat the mob with our early morning fob. Then we noticed that the opening time was 7:30am. The Seniors in this area sleep a little later. After entering the gym at 7:31 finally, we had the pick of equipment. Big deal. Along the way we noticed a couple of signs. One warned against disturbing the bird’s nest under the eaves. Another made it clear we were not to block the rather wide passages with our bodies, about 20 feet wide (lanes rather than bodies), as they were fire lanes. There were a number of other ‘do and don’ts’ which reminded us how officious things are becoming—there are signs everywhere these days instructing people in the most basic and obvious things—we suppose we have the lawyers to thank for that—thank you, lawyers.
Unfortunately, the first session in the gym had to be cut short as we ran out of both time and energy. The reason was not for lack of desire to struggle and sweat. Rather, reading and digesting all the information, instructions and warnings tired us, leaving too little time and no strength to complete the session. It's tough being a senior.
Something new in the gym from our perspective was a sign that mentioned the location of the defibrillator. This is obviously important and of course, useful. Sometimes the editor slacks during the aerobic part of the workout and one wonders whether her heart is really in it or is even pumping. So now we have a remedy to get her going on the slow days. You've got to hand it to these senior centers—they've thought of it all.
We asked the woman in charge, a rather tough ‘old bird’ but nice, whether we could bring our grandchildren to swim in the pool. As the kids are less than 55 years old, we suspected it might be an issue. It was. However, swimmers over the age of 18 are allowed the use of the pool so the good news is that we will be able to invite our children to swim with us and the grandkids can stand outside the gate and observe. We know they’ll be understanding. We did ascertain we can have a person under the magic age stay with us but not for longer than sixty days. This is disappointing as we were hoping the maximum duration would be two days and then we could get rid of the visitor with a clear conscience. We are researching the bylaws further in the hope that we can find a loophole that reduces the term accordingly.
One of the problems with large accommodation (of course, this is a relative term because anything more than 400 square feet is ‘large’ for us), is that it presents a problem within our relationship. Well, it may be more of an issue for me. The point is that from time-to-time, Jenni will complain, perhaps make mention rather, that she spent the whole-day chasing after me on a mountain. Fair enough. (That’s why we go to the gym—to keep fit.) The real issue for me is that while she spends her day chasing me, I spend the nights chasing after her, around the bedroom and the rest of the interior. With this giant set of premises, my life has been made that much more difficult as she has so much more room within which to maneuver.
Near Kobarid, the lower altitude brings with it high moisture and hazy days. Jenni is about to reach
the chapel on the peak.
So many of the mountain scenes viewed from mountaintops 'knock' a person right between the eyes.
Kanin is at rear, a place we visited 4 days earlier.
Jenni peaks after a 2,700 feet accumulated elevation gain following some 3,200 feet two days before,
while recovering from injury. Tough girl!
It would have been nice to write 'Sitting on the Dock of the Bay'. Instead, sitting on top of the world
grabbing a breather before descending. Remind us why we climbed up for breakfast and then went down again.
Oh! Right. We forgot to bring lunch.
Jenni experiences 'a field of dreams' in the middle of nowhere. The more we experience 'nowhere', the more
we are elevated to new highs.
At the half-way mark, we find 'religion' and wonder whose idea it was to place the chapel nearly
5 miles and 2,700 feet up from the village. We are not well-informed but we can envision attendance issues
each Sunday.
While we may give the impression that we expend a lot of energy, the photo illustrates once again
that you can 'fool some of the people all of the time, all the people some of the time but not...the camera?'
It doesn't happen that often but when it does, it's a little embarrassing. When we arrived at the peak of Matajur, we were rather surprised to find that we were no longer alone. As we had not seen a soul on the way up, it was not unreasonable to expect to enjoy a period alone at the top. Instead, a group of elderly hikers had arrived moments ahead of us. While we expected they would be Italians, coming up from the other side of the mountain (Italy), they were in fact locals who had decided to commence the hike in Italy, being somewhat less strenuous. The part that was embarrassing, well a little, is that they so kindly offered us a schnapps, more like to sit down and join them in a spell of drinking. As we don't partake in alcohol at all and if we did, we doubt it would occur during a hike, we had to be insistent in declining. The best we could offer them was our own form of liquid power and that was aqua. Nevertheless, they were so nice to meet as is so often the case. There are many, many wonderful people out on the mountains.
Pushing hard in order to come in below the allotted time as we approach the peak which is in Italy.
One more from the mountains.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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