So, well, realizing we’d become serious couch potatoes, Jane and I have taken to power-walking (tranlation: moving one’s tailfeathers, walking as if there were a prize involved) not for blocks and blocks, but on our short street, which has only 4-5 houses. We walk up to the corner, down to the other and do it twice about, fast and hard.

When I started, I was panting by the time we got to the first lap down. A week into this and I am not panting even as we complete the two circuits and come up the steps. This is rapid improvement. By next week, we may take it 3 laps. I’m completely content to push it to 10 before we start phase 2 of this, which is to take the car several blocks over to a very pretty public park—huge Ponderosa pines, which gives you not tangled trails, but a high canopy of shade and a flat prospect, where you don’t have to negotiate right of way with strange people in overcoats in July and people walking their Great Dane on the paths. Very nice place, where you can walk any sort of course you please. There’s even a latte stand at the end—but we’ll try to stay away from that.

My breathing is better, and we’re going to get better by starting with the do-able and finding something we can do quickly. This power-walking takes, obviously, less time than a casual stroll, and kind of wakes you up for the day, which is a good thing in allergy season.

Don’t know what our next drive may be, but I’m thinking of going on an overnight to Spencer, Idaho, to dig opals. Yes, there is an opal mine. I’m quite fond of the stone, and know something about them in their native habitat. More about this when it happens.

Don’t think we’re taking vacations: this will be a reading trip, again, to remind me of some background. And there’s just about enough of the book left to get us to Idaho. I just have to be sure the site is open. This is the sort of thing you want to do before high summer heat. I’d rather freeze atop a rock pile than feel like a fried egg on a griddle.