Catching Up, Reunions and Remembrances

It's been awhile since my last post here so I'm going to play some catch up and post some news. 

First things first -- the knee surgery from back in July appears to have been very successful. My surgeon prescribed 12 physical therapy visits, but my PT says it usually doesn't take that many and I've been for 6, so maybe one or two more. And dreams do come true!  Went in for my appointment this past Monday, and at the end my PT announced me "graduated."  I left there almost  leaping for joy! 

Now, for the exciting times -- my husband's 55th high school reunion was last a couple of weekends ago. Disclaimer: I did not graduate in 1955; Bob is 9 years older than me. His reunions give me the best feeling by being the youngest one there!  This year's committee outdid the last few. Although they graduated from Sunnyside High in Sunnyside, WA, the group rented a B&B on the banks of the Yakima River in Prosser, WA, a nearby town. The setting was absolutely lovely, and by having the grounds of the B&B all weekend, it was most relaxing and allowed us lots of time to visit and get reacquainted with old friends.

 

This is looking down river from the back of the B&B. The next photo is a look through the trees to the hills  off to the west near sunset.

The Sycamore Tree

I can see it as if it were yesterday -- the big old sycamore tree in our front yard.  I was only 5 or 6 years old and this tree seemed enormous.  It was a favorite place of mine in the center of the front yard.  I loved to lie on the ground on summer days and look up through its branches at the glimpses of blue sky and white, fluffy clouds.  And that's where I dreamed imagining the clouds were moving along with me to places of fantasy, strange places and transporting me to another time and place. 

That's what dreams are about at any age, aren't they?  Another place, another time, another country, another whatever.  Dreams can take us away from the every day drudgery that becomes so common place that it bores us to tears.  And then dreams can fall apart and disappoint us.  Sometimes they become so real to us that their inability to come to fruition is sensed as failure.