I went for a hike with my old and new trainers. Though I had been concerned that there might be some friction between them, they worked together as if they had known one another all their lives.
Later, we had a weigh-in. I came in at 18 pounds exactly. They were quite congratulatory.
My trainer was busy sleeping on Saturday morning, so for my workout I joined my owner and Teresa and Janise on Walk #42 of the Secret Stairs book.
We had expected Walk #42 to be daunting because it was rated a 5, the toughest in terms of challenge. It turned out also to be daunting because of the sense it provided of exposure to evil.
The walk took us up Capri and then plunged down into Rustic Canyon to the one-time stronghold of Nazi sympathizers who had set up their estate with its own greenhouse and independent power supply so that they could live hidden in the Santa Monica mountains. The buildings are in ruins but their outlines are still there, and, adding to the spookiness, now covered with graffiti.
By the time we ascended the narrow 512-step stairway back up the canyon, we were ready for sunshine.
At our Intergenerational Group meetings, we typically go around in a circle and everyone shares what's been going on with them and what's on their mind.
As a typical male, it is not easy for me to share my feelings.
But I appreciate the support that I receive from my friends in the group. I feel like they are there for me always. Often in interacting with them I realize that they 'get' me in a way that I myself sometimes don't.
I am trying to learn to be equally supportive of them.
My last brush with formal exercise did not go well. My trainer quickly became exasperated and refused to work with me further.
Now, however, an upbeat new trainer has taken me on and resolved to get me into shape. His plan involves regular hikes, as well as some attitudinal shifts to toughen me up. For his philosophy, he quotes from a movie called 'Green Street Hooligans':
Once you've taken a few punches and realize you're not made of glass, you don't feel alive unless you're pushing yourself as far as you can go.
How that translates for me is: (1) no coddling, (2) no being carried, and (3) no stopping and refusing to move. But my trainer strives to put a positive spin on this regime. For example, rather than knocking my frequent sofa-sitting, he pointed out that my regular jumps up onto the sofa have given me skill in traversing vertical inclines.
On our first hike together, to Inspiration Point in Will Rogers State Park, I acquitted myself well.
The atmosphere when we returned home was congratulatory. I rested and basked in the good will.
What I didn't realize was that my good performance had fed a monster: The next day my trainer scheduled us for a hike up the top of Capri Drive.
I was not terribly enthusiastic, but I cooperated, for a while. And then we got to go home again.
Will I keep this up?
I wouldn't have initiated the hikes on my own, but I knew they had been good for me.
And, although I have not been the most enthusiastic client, this trainer is willing to stick with me. I appreciate his devotion, and will try to improve my attitude to be worthy of him.
It is wintertime at the bluffs, which makes for a couple of seasonal changes:
1) Lots of natural beauty.
2) A changing cast of characters. Oliver and Winnie's family has left for their Colorado vacation home. Meanwhile, we've seen new attention from Dale, a gentleman who only comes to the bluffs in the winter so he can photograph the winter sunsets. (That's Dale in the photo above.)
Because Dale is back, his dog Augie (also in the photo above) is also back at the bluffs every night, shadowing me like he thinks I've got a hot stock tip.
Augie has irritated me for years. So when I heard there might be a cow at the bluffs, I thought carefully about how to proceed. I knew that if Augie found out about it he would want to interfere in my investigation.
Cleverly, I turned the tables on Augie by pivoting and following him as if I had nothing to investigate and it was up to him to come up with leads.
Augie jumped at being the leader. He dragged me over to see another white dog. I feigned interest, then moved away while they were distracted.
Finally I was free. I stopped for a quick pee, then hoofed it to the other end of the bluff to look into the cow sighting.
The reputed cow turned out to be not a cow but a dog. Yet that didn't matter to me. I was so relieved to be handling the investigation on my own that the cow could have been a horse and I would still have been ecstatic.
You can call me the Solitary Investigator.
Walk #35 of the Secret Stairs book was heavy on the religion front. It took us through an area of Hollywood that had in the twenties been the home of a number of religious movements that had also developed housing for their followers.
First up was the Vedanta Temple, an attractive if slightly forbidding edifice. We encountered a foreign gentleman outside who informed us that the Temple includes living quarters for about ten persons. He stated that he himself had been a guest there for the previous two weeks, but gave no additional context.
From the Vedanta Society we moved on along some steep hills and past some interesting architecture.
After going up a short flight of stairs, we ended up to my surprise on Alcyona Terrace, right in front of the home that Thomas' friend Daren had lived in when the two of them met as four-year-olds.
I sat on the steps and reflected on the passage of time.
Before it could turn into another Proust moment, we moved on up the street to see a number of buildings all related to the Theosophical Society, an eastern religion whose southern California headquarters, named "Krotona", were located here from 1912 to 1926.
The original bungalows and apartments erected for Theosophical Society followers are still there. The original Krotona building is also now an apartment complex. We walked in and saw an attractive central courtyard with one lone koi manning a pond.
Thinking that we might bond around the common experience of being pets, I tried to make eye contact with the koi, but I wasn't sure whether he (she?) noticed me. Koi tend to be inscrutable.
Leaving the koi, we continued our walk past more former Krotona buildings, and then past a Spanish Revival castle that had once been the home of Barbara Stanwyck.
In a yard, we noticed a gorgeous egg sculpture.
At the end of the loop, we continued on to Gower and walked in the direction of the Hollywood sign to Carmen Place, so that we could stop at the Monastery of the Angels, a Dominican nunnery where Teresa bought some pumpkin bread baked by the sisters.
My owner initially cruelly required me to wait outside, but the kind ladies running the gift shop insisted to her that she go back out to get me and carry me inside with her. You can always trust a religious order to stand up for the small and powerless.
Kai was looking sedentary on a bench while his owner made phone calls.
I encouraged him to hop over and interact with me.
He found that daunting.
So we tried to fit him through the open area between the seat and the bench.
I did my best to coach him.
But some dogs aren't meant to do new tricks.
A young man died last week in an inexplicable car accident.
His friends came to the bluff at dusk to remember him.
It was heartbreaking to watch these young people coping with mortality and loss.
I hoped that the bluffs provided them some quiet comfort.
I was excited to help Sam celebrate his birthday.
The present-opening was enthralling. I watched carefully to learn appropriate etiquette.
The celebration culminated in cake and candles. Formidable!
My BFFs and I went out to the bluff to hang out.
We tried to give Genny a modicum of privacy when she got a phone call.
She scarcely knew we were there.
