Thursday, September 22, 2022

 Thursday, September 22, 2022

  I restarted my morning exercises while lying in bed before getting up. I had skipped a day. I did a short walk this morning because we had driveway yoga at 7 a.m. Two people I knew from Bikram joined us. Carla had come before. Today, Jeff joined us. Also, Casey was back from his cruise. A friend of his husband’s paid for it as a condolence gift. It was lovely to have them. I love the class. I wish we had it at least twice a week. Maybe Yvette will start it up again. She is a spectacular teacher.

 After the class, I picked limes at the bottom of the property. I had finished the many limes B had delivered long ago. I found a dozen accessible ones, ones I could reach without the picker.

  I had an appointment with my acupuncturist today. She continues coming to my house instead of insisting I come to her office. I meet with people in their offices, including my PT, dentist, and primary care physician. However, her office is in a floatation tank facility. It’s a small room without a window. I don’t trust the ventilation system. 

  I showed her my walk. There had been a lot of change since she saw me two weeks ago. Some of this was thanks to her observation of how I swung my left leg forward instead of lifting and placing it. She let that information guide her work. The difference in my leg strength since then has been impressive. Today, she continued working on my inner thigh muscles. She noticed my left hip lifted whenever I bent my left leg. She did what she could for that issue. I planned to work on it when I walked. I also told her about the numbness in my left pinky. I had already discovered that it was related to my shoulder muscles. It was relieved when I applied pressure to the bottom of my neck on the left side. She did some massage in the area. She was impressed with how tight it was. I was sure it was caused by how much time I spent on the computer, writing or playing my beloved FreeCell.  

  I thought of Mike as I lay on the table after the session. I felt his love pour down and fill me. Boy, do I miss regular doses of that beautiful energy!

  I called my friend Melissa. She had just returned from a three-week vacation in France, walking the Camino Frances, a Catholic pilgrimage route. She walked it during the day and stayed in comfortable accommodations at night. Through some connections she had since college, she knew an archaeologist who had access to caves with primitive paintings not open to tourists. Her guide had the key to get into the area. They had to bring their own lights and walk over slippery rocks. It sounded like an awe-inspiring experience, seeing these drawings from 30,000 years ago unmarred by the energy of hundreds, thousands of tourists walking well-lit areas on carefully constructed walkways. All the images were recognizable. The artists used the contours of the cave to create 3D images. The Europeans rediscovered three-dimensional art during the Renaissance; these folks had it back then. Stunning. To be that close to the energy of people from thousands of years ago. Wow!    

 Melissa said she caught up on the local news. We had a kidnapping. A fifty-year-old man forced a fifteen-year-old girl to tie up her boyfriend and took her at knife point. This was the first amber alert ever issued on the Big Island. Fortunately, the girl was rescued from the man, but not before he sexually assaulted her. We assumed he planned to sell her into the sex trade. Melissa worked with another elderly woman from the church to break a sex trafficking ring here on our island. Yes, we had a big one on the island.

  A church member confessed to one of the women that her husband was the leader of the sex trafficking ring. The FBI was brought in and busted the ring. The woman got an annulment and returned to her country of origin, New Zealand. The two women from the church who were involved with this case are not the people you would think could take on a challenge like that. Nonetheless, they were successful, with the help of the FBI.  

    I got three phone calls while I was talking with Melissa. Lutz called once. Paulette called. I knew she was calling to tell me when Elsa and I could visit and get water. Jean, my Hanai sister, called three times. I was concerned about a problem and got off the phone with Melissa. Everything was fine. I do love talking to Jean.

    When I got home from visiting Paulette, I continued reading The Westing Game. I was getting involved. There are sixteen characters with various relationships with each other, Westing, and Westing’s family. I started writing down the connections. I needed a chart to keep track of everyone. It was like reading a Russian novel.

    I fell asleep as usual. I was awakened by a phone call from Dr.Hiranaka’s office. They had made my original appointment, assuming I had only one extraction. They hadn’t even gotten the order or the second. Now, I was up to five extractions and two posts. With one extraction, they said I didn’t need a consultation. The situation was different now. Could I come in tomorrow? You bet.

    I had a 4:30 appointment with ninth-grade K. His class was working on Raisin in the Sun.   The language in the introduction is unnecessarily complex. It contrasts the language in the play, which is colloquial and conversational. Hansberry wrote the play in the fifties. However much bias black people face today, it is nothing compared to what it was like back then. Hansberry probably used the complex language deliberately to make sure people knew she was educated and could sling difficult-to-read language with the best of them.