I had a good day yesterday.

I think I am finally feeling some progress in regard to a very stupid thing I did a couple of weeks ago when I ended up cracking a couple of ribs.

Yesterday morning, Maria, the marketing employee who became my friend (She is everyone’s friend.) came to 2086 for a visit and to see how everything is coming along here. She is such a treasure and is so much fun.

In the afternoon, our resident MacGuy volunteer stopped by to figure out why all of a sudden, my MacBook could not “find” my printer.

I had too many ripe bananas the day before, so I made muffins and gave some to Maria and some to John. I have always wondered just why we feel we cannot waste ripe bananas.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, so I had a visit with Barb on her front porch before walking down to pick up my take-away dinner. I think it was my favorite dinner so far — BBQ ribs and scalloped corn.

Barb is leaving for road trip with her daughter to the redwoods. And yes. I am jealous.

Judith will be here for a walk and lunch today.

And then I sort of fell into having six people here for a glass of wine before walking down for dinner in the Magnolia Room. I actually sort of know a couple of these people.

It’s also the evening when staff’s kids and residents’ great-grand kids come through trick or treating. I’ll mostly be out for dinner when they come, so I’ll set my basket out front. I have it at the ready:

Also my costume:

So basically all is good. On one level, I am as happy as I seem. I do love my tiny house. It is filled with my favorite things and is very charming and comfortable, and everything at CM is very convenient.

Yet, to be truthful with you, my safe cohort, I will admit that there is a place in my heart where I am homesick. Not especially for 1880 and my trees and neighborhood, but actually because I have graduated to another phase of my life and left the last one behind.

I am remembering this feeling from when I graduated from high school and I realized that we would never be together again, or in those hallways or the band room.

I know all of you have had to move when you didn’t want to, so you get it. But I see you carrying on and looking to the future with optimism. I am very proud of you — and actually of myself too!

I have planted many trees.  Not for any of these unselfish reasons, but selfishly, just because I love them so much.

Everyone of these trees has a story behind it, but no one cares.  Maybe I will tell those stories some day.

For now, I am just posting pictures of some beloved trees I have left where I planted them as I moved on.

And this last little one, I brought with me.  It is the baby of the first giant redwood that Elizabeth helped plant at 1880 in 1999. It will be my Christmas tree.

I think I know why I love trees so much.  Mother did, even though we lived in a place where trees were mostly just scrubby bushes.  Then we moved to a desert where she and Daddy still planted trees.

When I moved to the West Coast, I fell in love with sequoia sempervirens, Coast Redwoods. They loved the foggy northern California clime.

I once left  behind a beloved grove there.

Here in Oregon, I planted another grove.  They really shouldn’t thrive this far inland, but mine did.  And do.

And once again, I leave them behind.

But they are still there.

Like the pyramids. I saw them.  I may never see them again. But they are still there.