Approaching Eighty

I remember years ago our yoga instructor saying that she knew a woman in her 70’s who still practiced yoga every day. We all gasped. We could not fathom such a thing. Here am I, in my 80^th year, and still doing yoga every day--my own reduced practice, to be sure, and mainly stretches, wiggles, and twists; lots of isometric. One day a week, I do a guided audio 20-minute yoga session but I pick gentle ones. None of the hard core stuff; no head or shoulder stands (I already paid a chiropractor enough for that), no plow, crane, or frog; no Hot Power Fusion, Power Vinyasa, or Advanced Forrest yoga. I don’t think I could last out an hour class and certainly not 1½ hours like they do at Snowbird. But hey, I’m approaching 80 (as Eddy so often reminds me) and still doing Yoga!

Tree pose

Mountain

Warrior 2

 Extended Right Angle

Reverse Warrior

Warrior 1

A very poor Warrior 3 or Brave Warrior

Down Dog

Going into half-pigeon

Plank

Figure 4 - Hip opener.

We store a lot of stress and tension in our hips.

An anti-aging pose.

This is the one I do for my back - sway back and forth -

that my knees hate.

Each day I do 4 short kriyas for the brain.
This one clears away all the smut and crud in the air.
(I don't know how to rotate it.)

Cat and Cow are anti-aging poses.

These four short kriyas on the videos are designed to
wash the brain, balancing both the right and left hemispheres;
open up the blockage so the oxygen and blood can flow,
bringing mental clarity and blood to the brain.
They are designed to energize us, make us more alert, 
and our eyes brighter.
I think they might work.
I took the Facebook test where they
guess how much education you have.
Conclusion: A Doctorate Degree!

This is when I focus on the bird in the tree top across the street.

Child's pose

Corpse pose - my favorite. The only one I can do.

When I asked K’Leena to take the pictures, I told her I only had one requirement: To make me look NOT FAT.

I should have asked her to make to look NOT OLD too; but she would have failed at that as she did in not making me look fat.

The Wall Street Journal had an article stating that yoga injures far more than it helps. A noted teacher told the journalist:  “the vast majority of people should give up yoga altogether. It’s simply too likely to cause harm.”

“Not just students but celebrated teachers too,” Black said, “injure themselves in droves because most have underlying physical weaknesses or problems that make serious injury all but inevitable.” Instead of doing yoga, “they need to be doing a specific range of motions for articulation, for organ condition,” he said, to strengthen weak parts of the body. “Yoga is for people in good physical condition. Or it can be used therapeutically. It’s controversial to say, but it really shouldn’t be used for a general class.”

According to Black, a number of factors have converged to heighten the risk of practicing yoga. The biggest is the demographic shift in those who study it. Indian practitioners of yoga typically squatted and sat cross-legged in daily life, and yoga poses, or asanas, were an outgrowth of these postures. Now urbanites who sit in chairs all day walk into a studio a couple of times a week and strain to twist themselves into ever-more-difficult postures despite their lack of flexibility and other physical problems. Many come to yoga as a gentle alternative to vigorous sports or for rehabilitation for injuries. But yoga’s exploding popularity — the number of Americans doing yoga has risen from about 4 million in 2001 to what some estimate to be as many as 20 million in 2011 — means that there is now an abundance of studios where many teachers lack the deeper training necessary to recognize when students are headed toward injury. “Today many schools of yoga are just about pushing people,” Black said.

So all my efforts are for naught. However, I don't think I'm in much danger of injury. . .

Thanks K'Leena, you did as well as humanly possible.
DeRay added a couple of pictures.

"Good Morning"

In the leafy treetops, the birds sing "Good morning."

They're first to see the sun.

They must tell ev'ryone.

In the leafy treetops, the birds sing "Good morning."

Nearly every morning

when I'm in the guest room

attempting my own yoga practice

(appropriate from someone approaching 80),

while I'm doing "tree pose"

I focus on a bird in the tiptop of the Blue Spruce

across the street.

I don't see him there any other time of the day.

Is it the same bird every morning?

Why does he perch on the top fragile branch?

Why doesn't he nestle down where it's safer and warmer?

Why doesn't he go south for the winter?

And for my brother, DeLoy,

the forester,

what is he called?

Hopefully soon,

I'll have pictures of flowers nodding.

In my pretty garden, the flowers are nodding.

"How do you do?" they say.

"How do you do today?"

In my pretty garden, the flowers are nodding.

*Taken with a telephoto lens from my upstairs window.

Photo taken in January.

DeLoy's friend, Karen, thinks it is a Western Scrub-jay.

"He's up where he can feel the sun warming him up."

All in the Family

It’s not that Amy didn’t offer her kitchen paraphernalia to her niece, Brigitte,

when she was leaving for college nearly two years ago.

Boxes and boxes had been stored in our basement for five years.

Never been opened.

She was mainly saving them

so her nieces and nephews could use them for college.

The problem was:

Brigitte came to pick them up while Amy as out of town.

Amy wanted to retain the option of consent.

Now whenever Brigitte posts something on Facebook

About a toaster or mug or blender,

Amy can’t let it go.

For example:

Brigitte Hugh

"I'm hungry and no where's open at midnight," (Brigitte’s roommate said.)

Brigitte's kitchen is apparently open at midnight.

Amy Hugh wish I could make waffles, but somebody has my waffle Iron, oh I see it there...

Brigitte Hugh I'm holding it hostage. Guess you'll have to come to Logan for waffles

Post from Amy on Facebook: Ruby’s Inn, Bryce Canyon: Perfect day in the life of Amy Hugh and K'Leena Murphy: cut in line for registration under guise of valentine cookies, free rental shoes, yoga class, shrimp on the George, western photo shoots, Let's Get Wild interactive presentation, fat bikes course, CONDORS, runners clinic, watercolor demo capped off with western dance smooth moves... except the door got left open most the day and it seems there's a chipmunk chirping away in here...

When I saw Amy’s picture on Facebook

of shrimp cooking on the grill at Bryce,

I thought:

“Man, those shrimp look good.

I wish I had some right now.

Oh, wait.

Someone took our shrimp

and our grill.”

But I’m above and beyond that.

I would never blog it.

Not me.

Home

For years Ed came home from church saying,

“Now we’re to the bad part.”

All it meant was that he is lonely

and he misses his friends at church.

I knew that.

Still I was covertly offended, so I defied,

“Maybe someday you’ll come home and we won’t be here.”

“Don’t we count?”

“You’re not alone, we’re here.”

“That doesn’t cut it,” he countered.

Today he came home and voiced sincerely,

“I’m glad to be here.”

He told his dad when he got out of the car,

“Now we’re to the best part.”
Home, sweet home.

The Vacation

Amy and K'Leena left for Bryce today.

Be gone a week.

"While Amy is on vacation;

I am on vacation," I announce.

"You guys plan to fix your own meals."

I was totally surprised when DeRay

said that dinner was ready.

I could see only one pan on the stove.

"What is it?"

"BLT's. The bacon is right here."

All we had to do was

slice the tomatoes

chop the lettuce

cut the bread

find the butter and mayo

and put our sandwiches together.

Impressive, DeRay!

Why aren't women more like men?

Oh, yes, and do the dishes.
(He's watching TV.)

A Serious Survey

I call up my friend Sylvia, in her 96^th year,

to ask her when she wants to go get her toenails cut.

“I filed my big toenails so they don’t snag my pantyhose,” she reveals.

“Pantyhose?”

“Yes, I wear them every day.”

“You wear pantyhose every day?  Even in your house wearing your sweats?”

“First thing I put on each morning.”

“I haven’t worn pantyhose for 20 years.”

“Do you just go barelegged?”

“I wear long slack socks or crew socks or yes – barelegged and barefoot . . .

“Are you the last one in America to wear pantyhose?

Can you even buy them anymore?”

“I have a cache.”

Survey:

Does anyone else wear pantyhose?

Can you still buy them?

I’m very thankful I don’t know.

I could never stand those blasted things.

I would rather wear a garter belt and garters.

Perhaps.

Timing

     At the gym, Ed slipped into our usual lane in the pool with another fellow. Because it was so crowded, I went clear to the other side. As lap swimmers left, I moved into the lane next to Ed and this guy, who were still sharing a lane.
    “Get in this lane,” he commanded, indicating he wanted my lane. I had it to myself now. I thought, “Just when I’m ready to swim on my back.” 
   Then he explains, “So you can be with your husband.” 
   I was dumbfounded. Do I look that young or does Ed look that old? DeRay & I were married before he was born, for crying out loud - 17 years before he was born, truth be told.
   It doesn’t matter; he made my day. I smiled all the way home.