Friday, November 30, 2012.
Catfish And Gumbo Day. Past Performance Equaled Again. And Then I Quit.
My thinking about the retreat in the weeks leading to it centered on one matter. Would I be able to walk as far on Friday as I always did, with my compromised ankle? Would I even be able to climb the levee to the path I follow?
Yes and yes. For the past few months I've taken a brisk half-hour walk around the Cool Water Ranch almost every day, and I am in better shape than in at least fifteen years. The levee was a little challenge, especially coming down.
But I walked right up to the spot two and a half miles downstream where I have gone for over thirty years, in the same time or even a little better. I returned with less fatigue than I remember from some past years. If I accomplish nothing else while I'm here, I will still feel great about this achievement.
Nevertheless, I decided that this would be the final time for this walk. It's grueling, really, since the time I have for it is limited to about two hours. I know that one day I would not make it. So I'll quit while I still can.
The reason I always went to that spot on the levee was that it offers the first wide vista of the cane fields nearby. But during the past few years, new fields have been cleared and planted. A rising hill of radioactive gypsum--it looks as if it's topped with snow--is now visible in the distance. Looking out over this endless expanse is what I make the walk for. Now I can get it without going so far. Still, at three and a half miles, it's a good hike.
My resolve to give up the farther goal became the main theme of my thoughts the rest of the retreat. Everything ends sooner or later, and if the ending can be made satisfying--like a high school graduation, or even the end of one's single years at a wedding--it's a good thing. Better than doing something one time too many, and having it end in embarrassment.
Right now, Mary Ann and I are going through the end of dependency for our children. She's having a worse time with it than I am, but that's a mother for you. Still, it gives me much to think about.
Fried catfish for lunch. It was good but came out less than piping hot. But how can you serve fried catfish to over a hundred eaters without having that happen? Dinner was shrimp and crabmeat gumbo--an eternal fixture on the menu, and it gets better every year. It used to be served at lunch, until some of the older guys complained about eating fried food at supper. The old guys rule at Manresa.
I had a marvelous night's sleep, what with all that exertion of body and soul.
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