Neighborhood Update

Phoenix, Arizona

Caroline and I walk a lot through our neighborhood, so much so it’s now a routine. If we are in town and it’s Monday through Friday, our route typically covers between 2.5 and 3 miles. On weekends, we can get lazy and opt for a short 1-mile walk to get things going. No matter the initial distance, we always aim for about 5 miles a day, more when we are traveling. But this post is not about distance or travel; it’s about the place where we walk.

It’s easy to take for granted the nature of our hoofing here and there, but frequently, we are greeted with skies that stop us in our tracks, often right here with the palm trees helping set the scene and have us snap a photo. The idea is that someday, we might need reminders of what sunrise looked like if we were no longer able to go out and see them for ourselves. Yes, this is the thinking of people growing older.

As we bolt across one particular wide and noisy street to enter a quiet neighborhood, we first encounter a home that plays host to anywhere from a half-dozen to a few more than a dozen cats. Those felines use parked cars for shelter or for the warmth of their hoods to keep toasty. On roofs, they gain an overview where maybe they signal to other cats the coordinates of prey. Every so often, kittens show up.

There’s a small park the cats often visit, but so do some coyotes. Just the other day, we had a great encounter with three coyotes scouring the park for furry morsels. As they saw us, they took off save for one that didn’t seem to like the idea of running away from a meal but reluctantly followed his mates. We continued our walk, and they continued moving away until that male decided there was enough room between him and the side of the street we were on, and he slipped through to return to his hopeful breakfast plate.

One day this past week or so, we encountered four hawks. Hawks on their own or even paired is not uncommon, but four of them took us by surprise. There are many birds out here, such as the woodpeckers drumming on metal things on nearby homes; pigeons, quail, parrots, and mockingbirds also call the area home. The other day, we saw our first flock of geese flying south. And I shouldn’t forget to mention the raucous grackles, the cactus-loving wrens, sparrows, and the delightful hummingbirds.

There are more than a few ant colonies we pay attention to, various rabbits, lizards, and, at certain times of the year, bats. Along the way, we pass “White Dog,” Penny, Bella, and Lexie, guarding their respective yards. In a previous post, I already wrote of Lucy the Donkey whom we see daily.

Continuing our walk, we are confronted by those people who, not wanting to stink up their own homes, smoke outside and stink up the outside world. Speaking of stench, during these summer months, we pass sewers that have a constant flow of effluvia that can make us wince when we stumble in and out of the cloud. Also of note, we are noticing “Open House” signs for homes on the market again. We’ve not seen those in years, as homes were snapped up before the “For Sale” signs ever went up; something’s afoot.

In one particular home, we are certain, live drug dealers. They are not connected to the electricity grid and have a gas-powered generator to run their operation (a mobile home). The infernal racket just grinds at the ears as we pass, but still, it’s better than being on one of the main thoroughfares where idiots in loud vehicles start the day with the growl of their douchey cars, trucks, and motorcycles. I’ll include this right here as it feels appropriate: we also walk by a lot of dog poop.

There’s always the weather to mostly enjoy. Today was the first time the temperature dipped into the 70s since summer began. It’s a rare day we see rain, but this monsoon season seems to be one of the wettest that either of us can remember. While the humidity and mosquitos irk us, it seems like a small price to pay for what feels close to 365 days of perfect weather.

Finally, there are other people out here. There’s the guy who sets up the “school zone” signs and raises the flag at the grade school, a guy walking around with a golf club (for snakes, he says, but we think it is there for intimidation against the homeless who criss-cross our neighborhood and live in various hidden pockets near a greenbelt that runs through here), and another guy who seems uncomfortable passing others and will always move to the other side of the street and even change his course. We often encounter two Korean ladies out for an early morning walk, and sometimes, they are joined by two other people. There’s the friendly lady carrying a rosary and working it who many times stops to talk to dog walkers (or chat with us), the kids waiting at a couple of school bus stops, the trash truck drivers and various others moving through near the break of dawn.

Drifting Consciousness

Dried Gecko

This homeless man in front of me sits in a coffee shop, twitching, but he’s fully asleep. He’s dreaming, but his hands and feet never stop moving. As he drifts into deeper sleep, his head tries to find a comfortable resting spot, but the need to appear awake to avoid being asked to leave signals his body to look alive.

His sleepy eyes pop open and survey the landscape, but he’s fighting the exhaustion of being on streets where not remaining alert means the little he may have can be taken from him. Through the narrowing lids, I can see his eyes rolling as they lose focus and work hard at bringing this man to rest, but he’s fighting it.

He, like so many others who pass through here while I sit comfortably writing after a great night of sleep, sipping a coffee, experiencing the luxury of free time that allows me to interpret those around me instead of just trying to have a few moments of shelter, rest, and use of toilet facilities.

At what point he became aware of my attention to him is of no importance as in his situation, he is used to and aware of being observed, and maybe in his world, that means he would soon need to move on. That’s just what he did.

Filling The Space Between

Cumbres & Toltec Steam Train running from Antonito, Colorado to Chama, New Mexico

How often does the average person tend to provide specific details regarding events that occurred more than a dozen years ago? This excavation of my own past has been my main task for the past few weeks as I reworked 30 old blog posts pertaining to travels taken from May 15, 2009, through October 17 of the same year.

Jessica Aldridge the killer crab about to pop the head off innocent tourist John Wise at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels, Maryland

I surely have explained elsewhere on my blog (or on the very indexes I’ve been creating to come up with a comprehensive list of all of our travels) that I’m repairing posts that were thin on photos and details when they were originally created. You see, back in the old days, bandwidth was at a premium, and nobody had time to wait for even five photos to download, so my posts reflected those limits. Consequently, with 1 to 3 photos per travel day, I would have compressed the events of the day into the 3 to 5 paragraphs that accompanied the images.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt visiting the Statue of Liberty in New York

So, after our last adventure that saw us up in Williams, Arizona, for a weekend of hiking at the end of July and the fast-approaching date of Caroline’s bunionectomy, I turned my attention not just to caring for my invalid wife but also to my travel index. This index presents a bit of a challenge, though, because to select a single photo to represent a specific day, I need to be certain that I have the best one. All too often, my heart sinks when I review an old post and see its sole image or maybe the 2 or 3 that are there. Sure enough, I checked the photo directory of that date, and when I saw that I shot anywhere from 75 up to 1,000 photos, I groaned under the weight that there was a lot of visual information I had neglected.

Barber Chair at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I end up readjusting the old photos that accompanied the original posting and then get busy adding a bunch more. Regarding the 30 posts I worked on in the past few weeks, I ended up adding more than 600 photos from the archive, so we now have a better visual representation of the events of those days. But I can’t just add a bunch of photos without some explanation/narrative that accompanies each new image. In some instances, there was enough information in the compressed paragraphs detailing the majority of the day that I could pull inspiration from, while in some situations, such as our visit to Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, I had a lot of writing that had to be cared for.

Caroline Wise on the Trail to Havasu Falls on the Havasupai Nation in Arizona

That’s what I’ve been working on, and like my previous attempts to make progress on this massive undertaking, I have to take a break from the tedium. There’s a risk I fall into compulsive frantic attention to this task that is taking far longer than I ever imagined. At this point in the index, I’m on day 677, which is a measure of each day that we traveled away from Phoenix, Arizona, since August 9, 1999, and the commercial advent of digital photography when we were able to easily start cataloging our travels. By the way, this index does not include day trips.

The U.S. Capitol building in Washington D.C.

Now, with about a couple of weeks before our next outing, I can turn my focus to other compulsive activities, such as some deeper reading and turning to my synth for some much-needed exploration.

All of the above photos were taken between May 15 and October 17, 2009. Over in the right column under “Other Pages,” you’ll find the links to the evolving index of “Our Travels.”

Das Boot

Caroline Wise with Das Boot in Phoenix, Arizona

Witness this woman experiencing sunlight for the first time in days. Not only that, but she’s making an appearance in Das Boot. No, not the famous 1981 German movie titled Das Boot featuring the smoldering actor Jürgen Prochnow (her words), but the giant black thing on her left foot. As you know from the previous post, Caroline recently had surgery to remove a bunion, and today was her post-op check-up and bandage change, where we got to see firsthand the incision site and the bruising across most of her foot.

X-ray of Caroline Wise's missing bunion in Phoenix, Arizona

Now, the bone needs to grow back together. While you can’t see it in this image, there’s a screw holding things together. The screw is in there because they had to cut the bone all the way through. I asked the doctor about the overhang of bone and the pyramidal shape on the right and he explained that the body will repair those as healing progresses. She’s so happy with the results so far that we made an appointment for December to take care of the right foot.

Horny Toed

Caroline Wise's foot has a bunion

My wife’s foot has (had) a horn. It protrudes like a giant barnacle off her left foot, just next to her big toe. This type of protrusion arrives with a cost, not one of magic ability, at the expense of something else; the cost is pain. The prominence that exists there is better known as a bunion, and she’s to the point that it must go.

The bunion, not to be confused with Paul Bunyan, is a kind of thorn that, as it presses into her shoes and hiking boots, is pushing against other foot bones, making things wonky. While Willy might enjoy things being Wonka(y), my wife is serious about walking, and being able to do so into the future means her foot parasite must be sacrificed to the surgeon gods.

So today (that having been August 4th), before the sun rises and after an anti-bacterial body wash, without food, coffee, or aspirin, we arrived at the surgery center at 5:30 a.m. for the moment the evil will be extricated, a piece of metal in the form of a screw will merge with her bones, and her 4 to 6 weeks of healing will all begin. To add some drama, a monsoon storm made an appearance and it was raining as we three (Jessica had come over from San Diego) pulled up to the facility entrance.

Of course, this means we are sacrificing no less than a couple of journeys that had been on the itinerary, but hopefully, by early September, even if it means we must go slow or use a knee-scooter, we’ll be back on the road. And if this all goes well, we’ll opt for her to have the right foot exorcised of its demon bunion while we’re still in the same insurance calendar year in order to save money for make-up adventures we’ll be denied while Caroline is an invalid.

X-ray of Caroline Wise's bunion in Phoenix, Arizona

Regarding recovery, a lap table was ordered last week, and I’ve given her a small handbell to summon me when her needs requires assistance because that’s just the kind of husband I am. I can only hope she doesn’t milk my generosity any more than is absolutely necessary. And about this poor-quality x-ray, we wanted a digital copy but had to photograph the doctor’s monitor in order to see what the bunion looked like pre-op.

Well, that was then, and this is now here on a Sunday afternoon three days after the surgery. Everything is great, at least in our view. Only one hydrocodone tablet was taken, and that was very late on Thursday evening; other than that, the discomfort has been absolutely manageable. Tomorrow, before lunch, we have a post-op appointment with her doctor, who will unwrap the bandages to inspect how things are progressing. So far, so good, and the little bell I supplied her never had to be rung once as I’ve been here for all of her major needs…except when I’m off at the coffee shop writing.

Minor Shift in the Routine

Minor shifts in the routine

Luckily for me, the shifts in routine are minor. Shoes wear out, a phone gets replaced, an old Fitbit is showing too much damage, and the coffee shop I’d set up in so many mornings will no longer be my hangout. My diet changes as I demand self-awareness of the calories I take in; portions are a big part of that, and between-meal snacking, too plays a role. More things at home are finding their way to Goodwill as corners are given a good once over to determine if what’s there needs to remain with us.