WOW

Women on Wheels

My friends ask me if it’s Women on Wine or maybe Women on Whisky, or better yet Whacky ol’ Women…

My friends know me well!

This is what I LOVE about Sequim the most. Yes the population is skewed to 70+ but this community is ACTIVE. Like this group of awesome women- Women on Wheels. We get together and ride every Tuesday and Friday year long-it is Sunny Sequim after all. There is an annual WOW ride to the top of Hurricane ridge. I’m 60 and I got my hinny kicked by ladies 72+!

That’s me on the left…had to photoshop me in. Getting faster at that since I’m always the one taking group photos even with my pixel 4 here.

The Fake Out

Cayote? Sequim near the Olympic Game Farm

My friend and I were hiking this trail when up ahead we saw an animal hiding behind this tree.…

We stopped and watched (for about 10 minutes). It looked kind of like a cayote, but a little smaller. A fox? So I put on my long lens 400mm to get a better look…

It was a log, with ears, tail, and fur from the grain on the log.

Would you have been faked out too?

RIP Kay Slagle

This was one of my favorite posts of Kay. I love the sentiments she wrote…”Some of my happiest moments are spent looking out at these mountains.”

Kay passed away a few weeks ago. Below her photo are the last words she sent me which I will share with you. (written 3/30/21)

What caught my eye first was the look of striped clouds over the Olympics. But by the time I had my camera out sunlight was flashing across the tips of the peaks. Some days the view is almost like a kaleidoscope.

This captures the look of the clouds.

Some of my happiest moments are spent looking out at these mountains.

Dear friends,

It’s time to write an email I’d hoped to avoid for longer.
Last Thursday I discontinued my cancer treatment. After a couple of good chemo infusions it stopped working. The lymphoma came back and a CT scan showed the cancer in my lymph nodes had not receded. Other symptoms, like my chronic lung problems, also returned. My quality of life has plummeted; in short, what’s been left of me has rapidly begun to drain. 
The oncologists have always been candid: there was nothing certain in their arsenal and nothing much is left now. That’s the irony of having such a rare disease. And after two courses of treatment I don’t have the resilience to fight further. After six months I’m tapped out. It’s a struggle not to feel like a failure but I also recognize defeat.
I have good days and bad. The prediction is that I have “weeks to months” left. If I had a bit more energy I’d be on my way to somewhere memorable but it looks like home is where I’ll be staying. 
So there we are. I wish I had better news but I guess that’s the luck of the draw. I’m thinking of you and sending all the best.
Love,Kay