Fourth of July - Red, White and Blues.

On the Oregon coast, we get foggy weather when it is hot in the inland valleys. It pulls the fog banks in. It is cold, windy and dreary. I have a friend who said, "When the sun is out on the coast - EVERY one is happy." So true! It DOES make the fireworks amazing, though. The fireworks light up the fog and make the display a little misty and luminous. And then all THAT is reflected back from the waters of the bay. VERY cool ...and cold. My joke used to be that the coldest day I ever spent was a 4th of July in Waldport. Also, so true.
We made a trip in to Toledo Thursday - to do some early birthday shopping. (Matt's birthday is the 17th) And driving up Hwy 20 we were faced with car after car after car coming out to the beach for the long weekend. Tourists are needed and welcome - by the small businesses. Not by those trying to go somewhere to get something done. We decided to go back home the long, non-highway route and had a lovely drive.

Today we forgot our discovery of yesterday - tourists - and wanted to get out of the house for a while. We headed towards Newport and got as far as South Beach before coming to a standstill. We growled at ourselves, did a turnabout, and raced back home.

BUT - in Seal Rock, there was the neatest little man selling bird houses and bird feeders that he makes. I bought a couple - reasonable and SO well made (pictures to follow in another post). We enjoyed our visit with him more than anything. I am going to give him the seasoned planks from the wheelchair ramp that are still usable. He is going to give me a couple free birdhouses for the trade. Barter! Gotta love it. I'm happy the boards will go to a craftsman and happy to get more birdhouse. I was planning on making a few. They would NOT have been as nice as what I am going to be getting!

Nice things have been happening. Don't know why I've been fighting depression all day. I know I cycle moods. I have moments of "okay-ness." Even bright sunburst moments. But I keep sliding down this slippery slope of...I don't know what. It is what the majority of my past couple of days have been made of. It doesn't mire me down - but it's just always "there."

What it reminds me of is hiking along a river, when I was on BYU Survival. A river doesn't run straight; it meanders. It forms sand bars. then the river speed picks up - it carries the sand and particles along with it's flow. There is a formula that allows you compute the load water can carry based on it's velocity.

(Anything that that can be computed is science. Science is based on eternal principles. I have learned that sometimes physical laws have spiritual significance. So - I think there is an eternal principle I haven't "gotten" yet. I have the physical model - the walk along the Dirty Devil River in southern Utah. I keep having this memory come back up in my life. Over and over. It was a VERY difficult day for me. VERY. To that point in my life, it was the worst day I ever walked through. There were many lessons. I'm still working on this one.)

So - when water velocity decreases, the "load" it is carrying starts falling out of the current. Larger pieces first, depositing into what becomes a sand bar. When you walk a river canyon, you don't walk the way the water flows. We plot a straight path through, usually, because it is shorter and more direct. Plotting that path takes you up and down these sand bars. You cross the river - walk across the sand bar, go into and out of the water again, walk across another sand bar - and so on and so on. My legs got so-o-o sore that day.

Did I mention that sand bars are made of sand?? Loose sand. Not the packed kind down the ocean where the waves come in and out. The loose kind you have to walk across to GET to where it;s nice and wet and packed and easy to walk on. And your boots are wet because you just came out of the water - hello! So the sand sticks to your boots, AND your pant legs, and socks.... getting the picture? Nasty!

After about the fourth or fifth crossing, the boots aren't keeping the water out of themselves anymore. Your boots starts "taking on"water, making them heavier. Your socks are soaked. You can feel the water sloshing around inside a place it was never meant to be. I repeat - NASTY!

I looked ahead, down the canyon. All I could see was MORE canyon. Another bend just ahead. I couldn't see the end - only the next bend. The walls of the canyon towered over our heads. I was only aware of the passing of time - and I was still stuck in something that gave me no concept of if or when I would ever get out. (Did I know it WOULD end at some point - of course. But I couldn't conceptualize it. I FELT despair. I wanted to quit. (like THAT would solve my problem!! I'd STILL be sitting in that freakin' canyon with wet feet, a tired, sore body and a lousy attitude)

Not only was I miserable - in every way possible - but that wasn't enough. I resented everyone else for...you know, I don't know why I resented them. I was having a pity party and no one cared. No one came. I isolated myself when I needed. I think I do that a lot. And I think it comes under the sin of Pride. I made myself unpleasant to be around. Negative. Not only was the glass half empty - I was pretty ticked off at the type of glass it WAS IN!

I was a joy to be around. NOT! And only one (physical) person WAS willing to be with me. (I KNOW I had angels...) And that is another story.

But what relates to my situation now is the walking a straight line down a meandering canyon. The sandbars discouraged me. Some were quite large. Some were covered with thickets that you had to walk through without getting hit in the face by the branches. Some were short. Straight up and right back down. But I feel THAT the same way about my daily situation here as I did back then.

I remember looking down that canyon and just DREADING the next crossing. And some mornings I feel the same way about going downstairs. I can't see the end of the canyon. I FEEL like if I KNEW what day this would be over, I could manage. But - it's NOT going to be over...and I'm having a hard time ...

I think it's time to go back on anti-depressive medication. Life isn't getting LESS depressing....