What I Miss

- the 1960s

- my childhood playground: Mosquito Creek in North Vancouver

- being young

- the ability to fall asleep the minute my head hit the pillow

- mountains

- my long dark hair that flowed to mid-back

- my beautiful dogs Kodiak and Sully

 

- my many cats, especially Clay who wrapped his paws around my neck and nuzzled in my hair as I held him when we danced around the living, Dakota who posed for photographs and took her heart medicine like a champ, ChiChi whom I could throw over my shoulder and walk around like she was a sack of potatoes, Tigger who let me hold him like he was a baby in my arms, Amparo who I saved when she was an abandoned two-day-old kitten, and sweet, broken, once-abused Charlie who saved my life.

- my red Suzuki Samurai

- spaghetti and pizza

- Pete Seeger

- the capability to read without glasses

- watching wayward logs floating down an inlet

- the physicality to walk for miles and miles and miles, across a long bridge and straight up the side of a mountain, without hardly a huff or a puff

- peace and quiet