Category Archives: People

Some Delights in Olympia

On Sunday we arrived in Olympia after a 6 hour flight, 1 hour wait for a rental car, and 45 minute drive. While not exactly not delightful, also not at all dreadful. Everyone was kind, no one was nasty, even in the rental car line.

The first delight was when we arrived at our delightful Airbnb. The host left me a long note and two gift cards for local food vendors because, she said, she was happy we were returning and because the house next door is going through a remodel starting this week. Isn’t that delightfully thoughtful of her?

Our next delight was a 3-hour sailboat trip on the Schooner Pterodactyl that started at 4. Clare mentioned that she wanted to do it and we booked what turned out to be the last sail of the season. Clare invited three friends and we all brought goodies. It was beautiful, peaceful (except for when I was almost tossed overboard), and the food and conversation were delightful.

Yesterday we had a delightful walk through a mini rainforest a 4 minute drive from our Airbnb. This was my second or third time there and it was as lovely as I remembered. I brought Rupert and Chum along and near the end of the walk a little girl exclaimed in delight to her mother “Look, she has a bear!” Of course I stopped and introduced her to Rupert and Chum. The little girl said she had a friend in her mother’s backpack and begged her mother to get out the friend. It turned out to be a small Orca whale named (I think) Stash. Stash, Rupert and Chum chatted for a bit, posed for a group photo and then we all parted ways after assuring the little girl that we’d chat again next time we met up at the park.

I finally met Clare’s cat, Milk (or Ghost depending on the day). It was delightful to meet him but I am not sure he found me delightful. I scolded him for scratching on the sofa and must have hurt his feelings because he didn’t warm up to me while we were there visiting yesterday. I’m here for two weeks, so perhaps I can win him over.

Last night Dean grilled chicken, pork, eggplant, mushrooms and tofu for a delightful Labor Day feast for Clare, Pete and me.

A Dream

I’m still getting used to the time change and have been getting up way too early. I took a nap today to make up for my lack of sleep. I feel like I may have drifted off and woke up several times until I finally fell asleep long enough to dream.

It was one of those dreams that seemed very real. I was in Elgin with my parents. I kept kissing the top of my dad’s head, happy he was with us. He seemed happy that I was happy. See, he’d died and then a month later he was alive again. Alive and well — no dementia. Alive and kind — no alcoholism.

Later he was driving me somewhere and I said to him, “Dad, you know that what happened to you has never happened to anyone ever, right?” He asked me what I meant and I told him that we thought he was lost to us, but he was back. And fixed.

I woke up then and it took me a while to remember that I was on vacation in Olympia and that my dad was, in fact, still dead. I also, in those few waking seconds remembered that I’d dreamed this same sort of dream many times, but never remembered them.

I don’t really know what it means, although I have a clue that I will keep to myself for now.

Dad and me, circa 1958

Hoover the Talking Seal: An Account of Stroke Rehabilitation from the Patients Point of View


I’ve written here and there about my friend Jeremy. I just calculated (for an Amazon review of his book) that we’ve been friends for 47 years. We met when his British grammar school and my high school participated in an exchange. Students from Benton Park Grammar School outside Leeds visited Larkin High School in Elgin, Illinois the spring of 1974 and students (myself included) from Larkin visited Benton Park. I stayed with his family in 1974 and we visited back and forth for several years after that.

I remember my reaction when I found out that Jeremy had a stroke (horrified and deeply sad but relieved he was alive) — but I am not positive how I heard about it. I’m thinking it was Christmastime 1997 and Frances, Jeremy’s wife, sent us a Christmas card with a letter explaining what happened. Thinking back, it seemed to be years after his father’s sudden death (which I remember distinctly because Jeremy’s brother Nick called me), but it was only nine months later. Another trick my mind played on me is that I thought our 2002 visit to England when we stayed with Jeremy and Frances for a few days was much more than five years since the stroke.

Jeremy seemed pretty much his old self during that 2002 visit. We may have spoken about his stroke, but I am not sure. It was mentioned — I know my mom was worried when Jeremy said his vision was not what it used to be. My mom encouraged him to wear glasses even though he said he was too vain.

We’ve kept in contact with Jeremy and Frances on a semi-regular basis (although for years and years they sent us a Christmas card with Jeremy’s fun letter (whimsically drawn and captioned) and we, while delighted, sent nothing back. Once or twice I’d send a letter, but not often enough).

More recently, Jeremy’s daughter and I connected on Facebook and I’d relay news to Jeremy through her. Finally within the past 5 or so years, Jeremy has joined Facebook and that’s how we usually communicate. It was through this connection that I learned that Jeremy had written a book about his stroke. At the time it was only available on Amazon UK, but I bought it anyway. It took a long time to get here (early Covid days), but it eventually arrived. I must have been reading something else or busy languishing or something, because I put it on a shelf and promptly semi-forgot about it. I say “semi” because when I did spy it on the shelf I felt guilty for not reading it.

Hoover the Talking Seal

Cover of Hoover the Talking Seal: An Account of Stroke Rehabilitation from the Patients Point of View (I will remove if asked)

I finally opened Hoover the Talking Seal and began reading it on our recent trip to Lake Gaston where I had no cell or Internet coverage. I really enjoyed reading it and kicked myself for not opening it sooner.

There are many things to like about this book. For me, personally, it’s being able to read Jeremy’s words again. During our early friendship we wrote weekly letters to each other (I have a suitcase full of his letters to me in the attic kneewall). Receiving a letter from him was always a delight. Reading his words in this book was as delightful.

Jeremy is a talented writer. He has been for as long as I have known him. He has a way of writing to the average person so the average person will understand, but he does not “talk down” in his writing. Hoover the Talking Seal tells the story of one man’s stroke and the rehabilitation that followed. It’s told with humor, humility and frankness.

Jeremy’s stroke caused changes in his vision which he writes about in detail. In addition to being a talented writer, Jeremy is also a talented artist. Accompanying the narrative in the book are several illustrations that Jeremy created to show others what he was seeing. He was given some sort of Royal recognition for these illustrations, maybe he mentioned it in the book, but I cannot find exactly where it is.