I got up as usual on weekdays when I plan to attend Bikram. I contacted Ace, the seminarian at St. Michael's, for help in scanning the books. I need him to set up the CollectionZ.com program on my phone, so I can also scan books, using the bar code on the book covers. I am almost done with shelves that John and Ace worked on the weekend of Mike's funeral. They got about 800 books scanned and put those that couldn't be on their spines. Those are the ones I have been entering manually. Some books are not already in CollectionZ; those cannot be scanned in, and I will have to enter them from scratch. I will need someone with better eyes than I have to do those.
After I spoke to Ace, I walked Elsa. When I got home, I did my oil rinse as I washed the dishes from last night, did two pots of boiling water for my weeds, and drank my two cups of water in preparation for Bikram.
Yvette was at Bikram, and I asked her if I could borrow her height later in the day to help me clean out that cabinet I emptied yesterday. She, in turn, assured me that she would take care of everything for her house guest. I had forgotten. She had a friend in need and asked if she could stay upstairs with me. Yvette's friends are always welcome in my house if I have the room.
For the second day, I didn't do much after the first half of the Bikram class except hold myself in traction as I did savasana to correct my spinal curvature. I went to the church after yoga to drop off the cooking equipment and 4 bags of unopened jars and cans of unexpired food that Mike had accumulated that I will never use in a million years; I wouldn't even know how to use all those food items. I was going to stop off at the Club, an exercise gym, to pick up whatever Mike had left in his locker there, but decided I didn't have time. I had to get home, shower, and change and be at Crista's house for lunch at 11.
When I got home, I called Tracey at the Josephinum to see if the tech guy there had any information about Mike's computer. I know they were storing his data and were the active administrator of his computer. He was very nice but couldn't help. He said that Mike had switched to his own equipment, and it was no longer serviced by the Josephinum. He suggested I call Mike Berstene, who Mike worked with on the long-distance learning program set up by the seminary. Ace texted me to say that he would be available on Friday to help me set up the scanning program. I called the lawyer's office to give them the fax number and email address for my financial advisor so they could send the revised Affidavit of Collection and the complete Trust document that included the information that the surviving spouse became the holder of the Trust.
Wednesday is garbage day. I took the garbage out to the trash container. On the way, I pick up all the bags of Elsa poop off the ground.
I boiled several pots of water for weeds. One of my readers asked about the size of my gas bill because of all the water I boil. I use an 8 cup electric water kettle. There's no gas harmed in this process. Also, I have solar panels. Once the sun is out, it doesn't cost me anything to boil some water using electricity. No, no one else in the neighborhood uses this process.
I showered, did MELT, used the Tiger Tail, dressed in something a little nicer than my usual outfits, which are just expected to cover my nakedness.
I still hadn't heard from Crista. I texted her and asked if we were still on and to say that it was okay if we weren't. If we were, I would need her address. She texted me immediately, saying she must have sent it to the wrong person originally.
She sent me an address in Holualoa, a beautiful little town higher up the mountain than we are that offers breathtaking views of the ocean overlooking the town of Kona. It also provides a breathtaking drive along a snaking country road.
Lady Gaga told me to make a turn – I thought. Sure didn't look right. I called Crista. She told me to go back to the curvy road, continue south, and make the next left. I wound up on a private road. That's the way it is around here. These country lanes are going off the main roadway.
Crista and Miles, Crista's three-year-old son, came out to the driveway to greet me. Miles is a gecko hunter. He was showing me where they were. Crista and I ate lunch on the open covered lanai in front of their house. What is a covered open area for them is probably a large balcony for the folks who live upstairs.
Our main lanai is screened in. I am grateful to have a bug free environment, except for the spiders who find the meaty parts of my body so delicious and the little black flies that have their season during which I go to bed early, so I'm not plagued by them flying into my food and onto everything I'm reading. No, those little blacks flies are not biters.
Mike and I had been talking about creating an open porch (lanai) area for ourselves off the screened-in lanai. It would provide more living space for the kids downstairs and an open access area for me with an even more fantastic view of the ocean than I have already.
For those who don't know, besides the ocean views, the view of the stars here on the Big Island is one of the best in the world. That's why there are observatories from 11 different countries sitting on top of Mauna Kea. The street lights in Kona are yellow, sometimes to be confused with the warning light on the traffic lights. Yellow doesn't create light pollution. Even when the street lights are on, you can see the stars. When Damon and Cylin arrived for Mike's funeral, they spent time in the driveway admiring our nighttime show.
But back to the open-air lanai/covered lanai: Don and Brenda had a friend build them an extended overhang. It is huge and much less expensive than I thought it would be. I mentioned it to Yvette, and she said she and Josh would still be open to the idea. It will have to wait until that financial matters are all settled before I commit to any significant expenses.
Lunch with Crista and Miles was a relaxing pleasure. Our conversation was light and chatty. Miles was amazing. He mostly played by himself. Has anyone ever seen a 3year old leave his mom alone to talk to someone for more than 5 minutes at a time if that much? While we talked, we watched him play.
When I got home, I did a little work on the blog but was too tired to do much. I went down for my nap, but first, I started the book Yvette lent me "Happiness is an Inside Job." It is a book about the effects of Buddhist meditation written for Westerners. Since I have made 20 10-day Vipassana meditation retreats, I am quite familiar with the basic ideas. I can attest to the benefits of making these retreats. If Mike were still alive, he would tell you how I became a calmer person as a result of the mediation. Besides the healing effect of the sits, I learned to be patient with my progress.
I sat the form of meditation, of what is now known as mindfulness meditation with SN Goenka. He is an Asian Indian, and his program is very different for the retreat programs set up by two American boys who learned it in Thailand and brought it here. As I understand it, in their ashrams, each teacher designs their own program. Goenka's is highly structured and regulated. Goenka's recorded voice is heard at the start of every mediation session. While there are local 'teachers who lead every session. They are there to observe the students to make sure that no one is running into trouble and answer students' questions. They are not allowed to vary the teachings with their own insights. They have to stick to the script, literally. It reminds me of both the Catholic Church. These are all highly structured activities that allow for individual variation. No one can prevent individual variation. That's just the way it works. No matter how much anyone tries to follow a model, they are doomed to put their own stamp on it.
Goenka speaks with an Indian accent. As a result, there is one particular mispronunciation that makes me chuckle. When he says at the beginning of each meditation session," Watch your respiration." It can sound like," Watch your desperation." Which is the exact opposite of what you're supposed to do; you're supposed to stay calm in the face of all discomfort, not be desperate.
I took a deep three-hour nap. When I got up, I was still too tired to work on the blog. Yvette came up to help me clean out the cabinet. Now Yvette is 5'10," and even she had to get up on the counter on her knees to reach it because it is in a peculiar position, remove the shelf covering and clean the shelves properly. I brought the garbage pail over to her. She lifted the shelf covering with the container and its spilled contents and dumped it. No way I was going to do that. I am so lucky to have help I can rely on. Josh and Yvette have been such a comfort.
Judy arrived, delivering a container of her lilikoi squares, a special eternal prayer card from the Association of the Miraculous Medal for Mike, and a third thing that I can't remember. We talked briefly, and she went home. She lives right down the street. Am I lucky or what?
After I did some more work on the blog, I walked Elsa. I always pick up the mail on my way back from our before dinner walked. Mike's book arrived. I have a title: "ICON: A Theology of the Diaconate," but no bibliography. While I found something like 3 chapters on his computer, the book is 10 chapters long. Once I knew what I was looking at, I realized that there was a hard copy of the book on his desk. I had seen the binder, opened it, but I thought it was a manual when I read the title.
I ate dinner, watched TV, and cataloged some books. I walked Elsa, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa, Goodnight, Mike.
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