A reflection of the Chatham Train Bridge, probably one of the most photographed scenes in Fredericksburg. What am I reflecting on today?

My most productive time is from 6am until 8am. That’s right. I wake up, pour my coffee, and read before I exercise, before I eat breakfast, and before I head out for the day. What I struggle with is keeping track of all that I am learning–

I’ve been following note-taking blogs and checking out apps (Notion, One Note, Evernote, etc) to see if something might help. But I tend to fall back into my old habits of reading and then forgetting most of it (or at least forgetting where to locate it). I know I must have some form of ADHD.

This seems like a good place for me to try to catalog my learning. This is not a community, it’s my blog. Whether it’s a photo I’ve taken, an article I’ve read, or a podcast I’ve listened to, this can be an organizing tool for me. I know my tendency will be to start this but not continue. So let’s see if I can keep up with this for two months!

Today’s links:

• Getting back into yoga. I’ve been doing pilates at home, but I don’t push myself enough when I work out alone. As I age, I find my joints stiffen pretty quickly. Yesterday, I took a private lesson from Lynn McFadden and fell in love with her and her technique. I’m going to try one of her classes and see if I can stick with it.

• Thinking about watching this movie about death, (but I haven’t decided if this is stress-inducing, a scam, or calming!)

• Maybe signing up for this cooking class, especially since I can watch it later if something else comes up.

• I might get “dinged” for posting someone else’s art, but I will give the attribution.

Until next time….

I’ve struggled to find anything new or interesting to say lately. For the last two years, I’ve written daily, both poetry and in my journals. Writing helped me process emotions and feelings that had bubbled up over the past years.

Then, this summer when I’ve had to manage one of the busiest times of my life, I’ve written essentially nothing.

Travel, moving, grandchildren, volunteer work, and illness (darn Covid!) have consumed me. But the good news is I’ve managed well. I feel balanced. And maybe that’s the sign I am moving on, ready to tackle whatever is coming next. Bring it on.

I had planned to visit Nantucket this summer. I had planned to head out for an evening cruise from either Mystic or Connecticut River Museum. I had planned to finally tackle some of the summer house projects I haven’t gotten to.

Instead, we had a busy summer packed with buying and selling a house in VA (four trips back and forth), lots of family with children and babies, many volunteer hours for Nope’s Island Conservation Association, and a new volunteer opportunity: president of the Shelter Harbor Conservation Society. Add to that my “duties” of keeping track of the SH, Nope’s Island, and SHCS websites with regular updates.

But the good news- I didn’t let my anxiety overwhelm me. The past two years, I’ve worked to find tools to help me manage stress. This summer, I was tested. But even David said he could see a difference in me. We are winding down now, heading out for one more trip before settling in our new house in VA with boxes to unpack and events to attend. Every day, I look at the print over my fireplace that says: dear life, it’s beautiful here. And it is.

In my spare time, I made a short video- just for the memories….

Summer in RI is usually a time for me to relax, read, and visit with cousins and friends. Instead, I have been busy with volunteer work.

In 1948, after the Hurricane of 1938, a group of people including my grandfather, bought sections of this beach away from a developer. No one wanted to see houses/stores etc on this fragile stretch.

The intent was to conserve it, preserve it, in its natural state as much as possible. We encourage people to walk it, enjoy the scenery, and bird watch. But cars are not allowed on the beach face at all. Limited property owners and a few fishermen are allowed on a sand trail. These people are careful to stay on a sand trail and off the dunes and away from the piping plovers. No one is allowed to leave the sand trail and park on the beach face.

Until 1960 or so, it remained one of the most beautiful beaches in Rhode Island. But it has been discovered. And unfortunately it is no longer pristine.

Ok, some of these photos were taken after a storm, so trucks were getting stuck in the wet sand. But why were they out there to begin with? This is conservation land. Our local and state agencies prohibit driving on this beach face. But no one enforces it. The last photo shows illegal cars parking on the beach. The strip of beach has narrowed, and the dunes are nearly gone.

One day, we’ll have another Hurricane of 1938. The waves may very well wash over and take what little sand there is left. Without protected sand dunes, there’s nothing to hold it back.

Pristine beach sand dunes are nature’s masterpieces, but they are at risk of irreversible damage from cars and trucks. The consequences of this reckless behavior are far-reaching, affecting the environment, biodiversity, and nearby communities.

I am getting too old to constantly be writing letters, taking photos, and worrying about the beach.

Then again, maybe I’m not.

Perhaps this is my life’s work.

We are back in Rhode Island, and one of the first things we needed to do was put the boat in the water. This is a process of getting it bottom painted, driving it to a dock at the end of the pond, sliding it off the trailer, maneuvering the boat off the trailer between rocks, and then steering it around to the mooring. Once there, we lean over the boat and grab the mooring ball (it still has my dad’s name on it). Belly down, one of us has to reach under the the bow in an awkward position and hook it to two lines to secure it.

All of this gets just a little harder the older I get. I find myself stepping gingerly into the dinghy and holding on when I lean over the side. Jumping out of the boat at the dock– well, that’s an adventure in itself. That said, I can still do it. And I love that first trip around the pond, my home, in the salt air.

My body is changing, but I know it’s important to keep moving, keep doing those physical things that might be challenging. My grandmother all but stopped moving when her arthritis began to hurt. Soon, she couldn’t even walk ten steps to the mailbox to get her mail. Don’t stop, my new mantra, means taking two 45 minute walks a day, exercising with my stretchy band so I don’t get stiff, and using weights on the old arms.

I’ve got a few more good years in this body.