Hood Mountain Contours

I took the photo above from the parking lot of the East Club House today. Its about six blocks from my new home.
After spending most of last Sunday plopped in my red chair watching the reruns of season 2 of Downton Abbey, I worked up steam for a week of adventuring out, usually in heavy coat and wool gloves. One morning I drove, not walked, to the trailhead of Hood Mountain, ten minutes away, the top of which I can see from my modest back yard.  (When Jaymi was here caring for me last month she did the three hour hike to the crest).  I'm beginning to get my bearings for the new geography that surrounds me and I find it beautiful. One day I tried the Oakmont creative writing group; it was pleasant but not mind boggling and the meeting room was so cold I think I will pass and try to start my own group. Another day I tried the water media class. It was also pleasant and I'll probably try it for a couple of months. Then I attended a water color association meeting in town. It was sparsely attended and rather boring as they hassled with agendas and member complaints. Driving home from town is always emotional as I have to drive right by the vet where I had Kodi euthanized. Some days I am sobbing so hard as I drive past that I can't venture out again.
 This morning I attended the art club here where a fine speaker from the DeYoung in San Francisco educated us on paper versus canvas in their vast collections, over150 thousand pieces of paper art in their climate controlled storerooms, with only a little on display at any given time.  I learned enough about etchings and how they are made that I think I'd get such questions right on Jeopardy if they had them.
As usual this afternoon I attended the current events group where I am getting brave enough to speak even though my contributions are not elegant. Today I ventured forth with the question: "What on earth does Obama see in Hagel?" (I can't stand him.) A healthy dialogue followed. Hardly anyone took my side, but that did not diminish my dislike of him. Have I unpacked many  boxes this week? Only one or two. Its too cold in the garage, I tell myself.
Like the gentle contours on Hood Mountain I hope I am learning to go with the flow.