During the weeks of my Stay at Home Camino hike in the neighborhood, I have been posting photos of pretty much anything that has caught my eye, and has been slow enough to capture with my handy phone camera.  
Lately, my neighbors who are reading this are sending me photos of their great finds! If that wasn't cool enough, I am in contact with a long time childhood friend, who is living in Spain right now, and I asked her to take a photo from her walks, and she did!!!!  Thank you LIsa, Spain feels just a bit closer.  Is this a shameless plug/request for anyone with a photo that makes them smile to post on my FB feed? Sort of feels like that doesn't it?  Don't think too hard, unless you want to, and post away.
Meanwhile, I am concocting an end of walk lollapalooza stroll for sometime next week......  details to follow!
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whiTake that Dr. Seuss!  When we read The Lorax to the kids, night after night, and my we, I mean Neal, he was the best night time book reader in the history of the world, just ask Dylan and Margot! The book was so full of color and ideas and whimsy, that every time I see a plant that could fit on those pages, I just want to call it a Truffula tree.
I wandered across the beauty this morning, and while I could research what its official name and origins are, I just am not going to do that.  I am just going to share its quirkiness on this page, and leave this moment of discovery right here.
This is one of the practices that my walking is helping me grow, acceptance.  I doubt that I am alone in wanting to quantify, qualify and classify much of what I encounter.  A good part of my professional life depends on my ability to do just that. But I have found that while labeling does have its time and place, taking a literal or figurative step back can reveal so much more.
For weeks now, I have had these hours and miles to experience, not label, my community.  And when my mind starts to chatter , squiggle and wiggle, I take a deep breath, and let that busy stuff go.  And, yes, it sometimes takes several breaths, and sometimes I can't quite stay in quiet mind, but when I do,,,, whoopie!  My whole body quiets, even while in motion, these moments however long they last, are magic.  Somewhere, in these words, I am encouraging anyone who is reading, to find their own way to this peaceful state. Some folks meditate in stillness, some find stillness in walking, prayer, art, and it is worth trying to find your truth, your center.  There is no material gain in this practice, there is a lasting benefit of stepping into peace, letting go of habits that don't serve you, and carving out time for your own care and healing.
This time in our world is not easy, and what passed for normal may not return.  Our energies are scattered, many of us are struggling to manage our thoughts and emotions, and all of us are in this together.  So why not take some time to slow down, breath with awareness, and recharge?  
My walking tour has given me so much, I hold out hope that each one of us finds their way, their camino.

And, no this photo does not capture the event, but we did see this view on our walk today. Okay, I am not absolutely sure that August saw the exact same thing, but he was this at about knee level. He sees a different world than I do, and over this miles, we have gotten in great synch with my higher views, and his lower to the earth awareness. He now can hear or feel or smell cars coming well ahead of me, and gently steers us to the side of the road as needed. He is still on high alert for other dogs, which is less charming.
So today was the day I needed Shirley MacClaine, it was blister Sunday.  One of my favorite passages in her book about walking the Camino, called aptly, "The Camino" describes her helping another pilgrim and lancing his blisters, and I can not tell you why that is the part I recall the best, perhaps it is just serendipity, as I was somewhat prepared for today's surgery. I sterilized the needle, following the tried and true techniques I have studied, took a deep breath, and did the deed.  Turns out one poke was not enough, but I wasn't married to a general surgeon for thirtyish years for nothing, and I carried on with this home based semi-surgical procedure until the mission of not having an extra half inch of foot was achieved. 
So, my other strong connection to Miss MacClaine happened as a result of watching her film, Terms Of Endearment. She played Aurora Greenway who became her beloved daughter Emma's advocate when Emma was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As Emma is in the hospital, needing pain medication, Aurora makes sure, in every possible way, that her girl gets the medication.  Again, why I have always recalled that scene so clearly, I  can not say. And then Neal got sick, and I channeled my own Aurora for the years of caring for this good man.  The type of cancer he had, Multiple Myeloma, caused so much damage and pain to him, there are no words.  Neal never complained, as his body was wrecked by chemo, by cancer, he was not going to lose his stoic ways, and never did.  So, I got to be the translator for him, quite a turn about for us, Neal and I both spoke fluent Hospital, but he needed me to step up and let his care providers know more about his pain, he just could not.  And that is what I did, for years, and in the last months, I went full Aurora. Neal and I had worked as a team, with oncology patients when we were starting out, which gave us the experience of discussing our  beliefs about pain control for end of life care quite early in life.  The only thing that changed was it was one of us needing the the other to take care of the us.  His excellent oncologist, Dr Vempaty, listened to both of us, and when pain management was the only goal, it was my turn to make sure that Neal had every damn option that could possibly help.
Our hospice nurse, Lily, was and is one the kindest, wisest women I have had the honor of having in my life. She understood our journey, and treated our family with such kindness and respect.  Neal wanted to be home, our kids. moved home, and with hands on help from my dear friend/sister Traci, we all found the strength to take care of him.  
Nothing left to do but smile, smile,smile
( lyrics from He's Gone, of course, written and performed by Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead, enscribed on Neal's headstone).

When we moved from Cole Valley to Emerald Hills, it was a deliriously happy time for our family.  We were newlyweds, new parents, and were able to buy our first home, it even had a white picket fence!  Our neighbors welcomed us home, bringing food, and laughter and community.
Almost 30 years have passed, we moved away, we came back, our kids are grown, and now, I am me, not we, and through this quiet time, this opportunity/mandate to stay home, I am filled with gratitude that this is where we/I have made our home.
Today, August and I got an early start, and reversed our usual course, we went up, over,down, up, over and home!  He is getting a bit better behaved on our walks, and has worked out a way to tell me when he needs a water break, he smiles ( I swear it is true) and nudges my pack where I keep our bottles. Now he drools out much more water than he takes in, and still doesn't love it when I sprinkle him with any leftover water, but we have our routines, and keeping him hydrated and cool is the least i can do for this boy.
We did not see our resident coyote, and the usual deer family that are the other typical occupants of the Eastview meadow were also missing.  I have no idea what , if anything, that signifies, so we did what we. do, and kept walking.  
There must be streets we have missed, and I have been playing favorites with certain routes, but if you were to walk along West Maple Way, you would understand why I can't pass that up. It has views, and wildness, and cultivated gardens, and a wall of poison oak, and connects with some other slices of heaven, so yes, I admit it, I have preferences. I am NOT throwing shade on Tum Suden, or Glen Loch, not at all, those are both excellent, excellent avenues, as are so many others, but I feel the need to create a bit of a highlight reel tonight.
What I know for sure, is that when I put on my boots, and head for the hills, I am at peace.  And there are days when I want to rest, and I do, and when the boots go back on, I am ready to see, and hear, and smell all the beauty in my backyard adventure.

I grew up a Yankees fan, as a long time tri-state resident, and went to games every year in "The House that Ruth Built", the original Yankee Stadium in the Bronx.  When I moved to California, I couldn't build up much enthusiasm for the local Southern California teams, the ballparks were so clean, and the snack stands didn't sell knishes.  And then we moved to San Francisco, and a New York baseball team was there, waiting for me, the Giants! Candlestick Park was cold, windy and perfectly wrong for baseball,  irresistible in its appeal.
In 2000, the Giants moved to a beautiful ballpark in the heart of San Francisco,  our local train line ends 2 blocks from the the stadium, and we could bring Amici's Pizza in with us to a game.  Throw in a few World Series titles, players in good luck red thongs, a Panda and a Giraffe, and that local guy, Barry Bonds smashing homerun records, it was the best of times. Especially now, seeing in the rear view mirror of time, when it is not clear if there will be a baseball season, and if there is, will we be able to attend games?  To quote Yogi Berra, " The future ain't what it used to be".
So where was I going with all my baseball chatter? Back to my walk around the neighborhood. The Camino Santiago route I was going to traverse, and will at some point in the fullness of time, is 800 kilometers, which translates into 500 miles, my cockamamie idea was/is to walk the same distance, just in a different, quite circumscribed route necessitated  by shelter in place restrictions, and here I am 7 weeks into this quest, and I have actually walked 400 miles, which in another rough sport to sport transposition, has me rounding third, and heading for home. And if Buster Posey wants to try to tag me out, I am 100% fine with that!

We have been living in such changed circumstances this year.  Days tend to roll into each other in a new rhythm, weeks go by without the usual markers of work, travel, and social events, and somehow it is May, 
When I started this hometown version of a big adventure, it was early Spring, which, around here, is a spectacular time for wildflowers. In the picture on the left, my walking partner August West, is surrounded by California poppies. I took this photos weeks ago, in early April, in the peak of their season.
Native plants are in good supply around here, but each variety has a growing season, and as the photo on the left shows, the flash mob of poppies has dispersed, and there are some new plants on their way up!

In case you were wondering, I am NOT being followed by a photography crew snapping images of the local flora,or fauna!

The flowers, and plants that I am seeing along the way are changing slowly with summer approaching. The cool thing is that I do pass through sunny open fields, shaded lanes, seasonal creeks, and each one of these microclimates host vastly different vegetation.  Sometimes a lizard will scuttle just past me, then I will get nearer a water source, and the frogs are croaking.  Today we saw rabbits, deer, squirrels aplenty, and when on ridges got to listen to the beat of wings of local birds as they passed overhead. Sometimes I am fast enough to catch a critter in its element, or slow enough to notice a blooming flower, and they show up here.                                   With the obvious exceptions of the fangirl posts about Bobby and David, and their accompanying period shots of awesome lunchboxes, I am taking these photos as I go along.  And, no, I have no formal training, and as you may have intuited, all the technical aspects of blogging I am learning along the way.
And, yes, I am darn proud that I have managed to learn how to do any of this!  It certainly does not come naturally to me, but here I am flogging away.
The walking part of this journey comes much more easily to me.  I grew up walking or biking everywhere, and just kept going!   When the kids came along, I front packed them, backpacked them, strolled them all around town.  When we got the first Gorrin family dog, the Gorrin family created the "poop a loop" and the 4 of us would walk Gidget, the chocolate Lab, around the block, which around here, is some distance! Our family hiked and camped, strolled city streets, home and wherever we traveled, in a way, I have been training for this walk for decades!  My kids are staying active during this time of quarantine, walking and biking up in SF, doing their best to stay strong and safe, and making their momma quite proud.                                                            Not so long from now, my son will make the most important walk of his life, up the aisle to marry Bridget, and Margot and I will not only walk up to support him, we will all dance to celebrate. 

This is an actual picture of the actual trail on the Camino Santiago.
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This is a picture of the actual trail of the Stay at Home Camino. I did not take the first photo, and definitely did take the second! 
So, I have been a bit in the doldrums today, solely based on that I finally figured out that I was actually supposed to be walking the real Real now, my flight and planning would have had me crossing the Pyrenees in the past two days.  
From what I have read about that experience, I am missing an opportunity to scramble up the longest, steepest mountain in the universe ( more or less), which is not a bummer.  In the early days of my SAH Camino, I roughly recreated the elevation changes of these first days, in the spirit of authenticity. At this point, nearing 400 miles of covered ground, I am a bit stronger, so the uphill climbs are not such a fright, however, at this point, having put so many miles on my knees and feet, downhills get my attention a bit more.
I have been extremely brave up to this point, but, in the spirit of the doldrums, I will confess, I have a bit of a blister situation across one heel, and am certain to lose a toenail on the other foot, I will let your imaginations run wild and spare you the gruesome photos.  On the way up, my heel doesn't feel great, on the way down, my knees and toes are singing a protest song to me. And, as we say in the health care world, that is my organ recital, I have whinged just enough to blow off steam, and will stop right this very minute.
My walk today was an easy loop around the neighborhood in the early part of the day. Teaching yoga in the new ways filled the middle part of the day, I filmed/taped recorded a class, and then ( showing off now!) (only possible with the help of many) live streamed another class, then topped off day doing my social work thing. 
If you have read this far, LUCKY!!  I have a non rhetorical question to ask, which involves housework, spiritual pilgrimages and mileage equivalents. I have been diligently recording my daily mileage on a cave woman like spread sheet, but today highlighted one of the differences between walking across a country, far from home and domestic life.
I came home from my day, and the dishwasher needed to be emptied, now it is only me at home these days, so until August develops mad skills and agility, there is no one but me to deal with this chore.  I am just wondering, could I tack on 2 miles for the sheer effort of unloading the dishwasher??  
Seriously, I have timed how long it takes to unload this modern convenience, for which I am SO grateful, and it only takes about 4 minutes, so this is a stretch mileage wise, but this mundane task is so non real Camino, that it seems to warrant special consideration.  
I welcome your thoughts, opinions about mileage equivalents for your own bete noire chores.
Buen Camino!
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Yesterday was way too fun, so I am digging back in my mental archives and taking you with me!
Saturday mornings had rituals for the West kids, we got our allowances, I am recalling I got a quarter, which was plenty enough to make my dreams come true. We would head around the corner to Cohen's, the local candy shop, to spend our riches.  Deciding between an Archie comic book or Tiger Beat was agonizing, and somehow I ended up with just enough extra to get a Maryjane candy!  Now, my sisters and I were a team, we would tag team our literary purchases and have a happy afternoon reading about our pop and TV stars.
Now, here is where I must posit my theory, these juicy tabloids, full of quizzes to ascertain to make sure that David or Bobby or Leif was the right guy for each fan.
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Yes!  Work with me here, were these magazines just warming us up for the juicier magazines for our future selves??  
Think about it, formats are similar, topics are similar, the writing styles, the fandom.  So, maybe People is classier, but Tiger Beat was sassier. I am not. sure if People has a quiz section, but it should!   
What does any of this have to do with walking endless loops around Emerald Hills?? NOTHING, and everything, I have had time to think and sometimes my thoughts are not at all. deep, they are just fun. The business of life doesn't allow for much reminiscing, and this time out of the typical patterns of life is giving my brain a chance to recharge, relax and take a more circular path around the block.
My walk today started in the sun, ended up being a rainy, drizzly hike.  My wide brimmed sun hat, purchased with the intent of protecting me from the harsh sun in Spain, turns out to be an excellent sunbrella combo, and, has a secret bonus mosquito net that I can drop down in a matter of seconds when those pesky critters start buzzing.  It is a revolutionary shade of pink, somewhere between pepto bismol and cotton candy, and, yes, I am willing to share my shopping tricks and tips, just LMK!!
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Here's the thing, our world is so confusing right now. Shelter in place orders differ from one state to another, news from Washington is unreliable, even our forward thinking, life saving Governor Newsom is getting push back.  
It leads me to remember one of the basic divides that shaped my early life.........

Which team were you on?  Could you play for both? Lunch box selection, for little fangirls like me was critical to get the new school year started on the right path. 
Now Bobby, was a bit older, a bit safer, and that Christmas album!  When I fell for him, he was in a show, that lasted an entire season, Getting Together. Should I be embarrassed or proud to recall that Bobby had been on Shindig ( truly before my time) and then Here Come the Brides? I dreamed and hoped that his breakout show would be the beginning of really getting to know him, but it was not meant to be. His music was sincere, semi-groovy, and I was proud to walk the halls of Hillside School with my lunchbox, that featured his stats on one side, photo on the other, and a quickly shattered thermos inside.
Then, came David Cassidy, and the Partridge Family and " I Think I Love You", this was my Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show moment.  This lunch box graced my life for 4th grade, and my sandwiches tasted all the better for having spent the morning encased in this metal tribute to the best family pop band in the history of the known world. 
So, here is how life went for me, school, school, church school, choir, school, school, FRIDAY NIGHT, my sister and I would scoot across the street to our welcoming neighbors, and Friday TV show night.  It was the best of times, Nanny and the Professor, The Brady Bunch, The Partridge family, back to back, with commercials for aspirational products, Lip Smacker, Clearasil, Kool Aide!  
At our house, sometimes we had a TV ,sometimes we didn't, our parents were not watchers, and with 5 kids largely under-supervised, breakable items, like TVs didn't fare well, so for critical events, Friday night shows being the most critical, our good neighbors, the Tokars, welcomed us in for popcorn, and to see our pop idols.
And on a side note, this one is for you baby brother....

I found this yesterday, hung from a tree stump, simple and true.
I took the day off today from walking, and had the most beautiful day, my kids came down from San Francisco, and we sat, socially distant from each other, and had lunch in the backyard.  I don't have the words to describe my joy at seeing my son and daughter, this ordinary/extraordinary day being with my family.  
My heart is full.