UNUSUAL NOTE FROM LB: For those not in the know, which is roughly everyone in the universe, Gwen the Beautiful and I have lived on the Olympic Peninsula, across Puget Sound (and around the bend) from Seattle for over 10 years.
We live in a resort community in the woods, in a home we love even if it isn’t horsified acreage on top of our own mountain and bears no resemblance in terms of lifestyle (except for woods and the long drive to reach most shopping and services) to our former abode.
In other words, we’ve left Cloud Creek Ranch for a cul de sac populated mostly by retirees and, shockingly, are as happy as we’ve ever been.
You may find yourself asking, “So what goes on in such places?” Well, here’s a Tuesday Thought about that very thing.
And if you do detect any irony in what I write here, now or in the future, please believe me when I say it comes straight from Geepaw Larry and doesn’t necessarily reflect the views of the universe. (Although I often sense a mystical wink or nod.)
by Larry Brody
So here I am, sitting in the “great room” comprised of the living, dining, and writing areas of what is shaping up to be the Brodys’ forever home, looking out at Brody Park. Until a few weeks ago, it was known, by Gwen and me anyway, as Brody Forest, but a week of cutting and trimming and carting has changed its nature a bit.
We loved the woodsy look, but what good is having your own private cedar forest if you’re allergic to cedar? And by allergic I don’t mean that my nose gets stuffed once a year when the backyard pollen count gets too high, I mean that 12 months a year I was in Very Big Shit if I so much as brushed against any part of any of the trees.
For me, the slightest touch erupted into a full body rash remarkably similar to Poison Ivy or Oak. And as much as I love talking to cedars (you do know they’re very friendly and spiritual and just plain terrific conversationalists, yeah?), Gwen and I finally made the decision to do some “limbing” (I think that’s what the tree dood called it) that removed those of us on the ground from the reach of branches and needles and such.
We also covered the area formerly controlled by tall, chunky above ground roots that kept Gwen from enjoying a quiet walk in the shade because she’s blind and it was impossible for her to avoid tripping, even using her cane, with enough wood chips (alder, not cedar) to make the area usable…and protect the cedars as well.
The Good News: We’ve discovered that by allowing the higher branches to stay thick we’re still protected from the almost daily rain by the forest (okay, the “glade”) canopy, plus it’s much more fun chucking the ol’ pill around with Layla, the Nearly Adult Black Lab when the land is clear enough for her to run from one end of the property to the other without crashing into a tree trunk that she couldn’t see.
The Bad News: I was out of commission for a week after doing my first yard work in several years. Also, it still rains almost every day. Plus Layla loves the new suburban layout so much that she’s doubled the amount of time she wants to do the ol’ chuckaroo thing.
And before this all started it already felt like we were going at it twenty-four/seven.
Don’t worry. I’m okay with Layla being totally obsessed by balls and the chasing of same. The pleasure on her face and the fitness of the bodies of all three of us Rain Forest Brodys have made every minute of the attention we pay to this young madwoman worthwhile.
To put it another way, I sure as hell have lived – and unintentionally forced those who’ve loved me to live – with my own obsessions for most of my adult life, so who am I to complain?
More to follow…as long as life goes on.
