Finding New Milieu

Finding New Milieu

– A chronology of sorts –

Note: I am still , slowly, editing this essay .
Definition: “ A milieu is a surrounding culture. Your family, house, neighborhood, school, and people you hang out with.make up your milieu. A milieu is both “surroundings” and everything that makes up the surroundings.”

One thing is clear. What we need now is not what we needed 32 years ago when we designed and hand built our house. We designed it for our interests, for our family, and for our idealism. In many senses, we need a new milieu.

When we started this house project we were a family of five – Susan, myself and three teenage

Studio

Studio

very active, kids.

Then, we became empty nesters and little by little rearranged the space to fit our artistic interests.

Susan is an acrylic artist and we created studio space for her. I do woodworking, and a form of glass fusing and wood sculpture as well as my own form of graphic arts. For me, we constructed a “Tinkerer’s” shop with glass kiln, woodworking equipment, and some metal working tools.

For us, our studio and workshop space is far more important than extra living space. While we engage in acrylic painting, wood sculpture, glass fusing, screen printing, and photography, we’ve come to realize that our biggest art project is our house!

The entry gate is a dancer motif, hand-built door. On one side is a fused glass art. Coming through the door is like transitioning from one world to another. The tiny raised pond, with water plants and concrete, sculpted surround, and a mountain, forest, ocean motif built into the overhead beam gives us a feeling of immediate relaxation.

Our home has always been a place of solace from the busy, busy world at large. When we walk through the “dancer” gate to the entry space, with the murmuring tiny pond, it ’s like like unburdening heavy weighted garments. 

The East roof top deck, with zen views of the cascades,  is enclosed by colorful hanging baskets which daily attracts hummingbirds darting from one flower or another, occasionally taking time to buzz over to watch whatever we are doing – to our delight.

The other deck has a propane heated hot tub with a view to Mary’s Peak to the west.

What we call our garden stove area has a yodel stove we purchased in the 70’s and a oak frame, Scandinavian style couch. We found it at a garage sale, and added casters, a waterproof covering and even in the rare snows of winter it is a favorite place of mine.

Our design incorporates principles from architect Christopher Alexander. In his books, “A Pattern Language” and  “The Timeless Way of Building,” he and his associates categorize “patterns ” which world wide seem to make a house comfortable and pleasant with “a quality without a name.” People sense the quality, feel the quality, but have no words for it. At least for us, our home and garden has that quality.

Some examples of patterns we used are light from three sides, multiple ceiling heights, private areas and public areas, purposeful alcoves, long views, and windows positioned during construction for both privacy and vantage.

Our garden provides us with delicious foods and fruits and our pet Muscovie ducks eggs for omelets.

It is a home designed over the years by us, lived in by us, and full of memories – and will be very difficult to leave.

Things become more difficult as we age

Unfortunately, the reality is that as we are aging we are having a difficult time keeping everything in good order.

For instance, I just came in from pruning one of the hedges. It had grown to 16 feet or so. Now, I have it down to a ragged 6 feet and a huge pile of branches to dispose of.

The fruit trees need some spraying, and pruning. Over the last few years, I’ve pruned the branches low enough that Susan and I can reach the fruit without ladders.

Cleaning the second story windows is a no-no. The ladder to get there is just no longer safe for me. Perhaps it never was.

The gardens, even with our efforts to annually increase the number of raised beds, are often now a chore versus a joy. Backs, knees, and energy just seem to complain and flag where there was not even a notice just a few years ago.

Inside, cleaning and making beds, fixing things, and all the small home owner needs that seem to compound from small to impossible, accrue.

Getting around town from our hill location is also taking a toll. Cataracts are decreasing rainy night driving. Eventually, we can see cars as not our approach to transportation. Biking up the hill is currently very difficult. And walking the 1/3 mile to and from the bus stop, which only runs once per hour, is still doable – but not with out a few grimace’s along the way.

Why not simply hire much more of the work, use taxi’s, get a mobility scooter to get to the bus stop, put in a chair lift or elevator and make the many changes so we can stay here?

That’s what this “essay” is about. Adaptation to changing abilities and needs, easing into simpler routines, learning to age with optimism and gusto, even as our bodies and minds revolt a bit.

Should we have built differently?

Recently, I was daydreaming about building our home 31 years ago, and remembering my, at that time, 80 year old nuclear physics professor. He lived across the street, and while chatting with him he gently cautioned that we would get to his age sooner than we expect, and having a two story house with a loft, and halls barely able to handle a small size wheel chair, might not be what we want when we are 80 years old.

I politely agreed with him. But also realized building for an 80 year old would entail a different approach. We would need to forgo the view of the Cascade mountains from the second story kitchen window, lessen our garden space as changing from two stories to one would increase our footprint. We’d need to remove fruit trees and do much more excavation because of the hillside contours. Cost would likely go beyond beyond  our meager budget. For these and a host of other “practical” reasons we came to the conclusion: We will build now for our current family needs and when that time comes we’ll make what adaptations we need, which might well include moving.

Well, “that” time is here

I’m an active 80 year old – with knee problems. With caution and hand rail I manage the stairs just fine – but for how long? Susan, a little younger, has leg artery problems, and for a short period of time could not get up and down the stairs without help- a portend of a potential future.

So here we are, contemplating major changes, before change is forced upon us. We know we aren’t alone in needing to make substantial changes and adaptations as we age, so we thought it might be useful to others (as well as for ourselves) to chronicle some of our thinking and decision making processes.

We embarked on a path of checking out all sorts of aging situations that others, before us, have done. It’s been fun, eye opening, and mostly done with the idea that this is in our future, not our present. That mindset let us approach things in a relatively objective manner. We could keep the practical and emotional reality of actually “doing” something as a future thing.

What follows is our list of options, and finally, what we will likely do.

But first, a short excursion into methodology.

It became apparent that the viability of each living option depended on our current stage of aging. As a construct, we created the following list of stages, and then for each living arrangement option, we put plus and minus marks for how well (positive marks) or how unsuitable (negative marks)we thought the option would be for each stage.

Stages of Aging

Stage 1 – Very active, no real physical or mental limitations, just want to do our own thing, and maybe slow down a little bit.
Stage 2. – The need for adaptations is creeping in.
Stage 3 – Physical and mental limitations are severe. Personal help might be needed.
Stage 4 – The dying time. Hospice, palliative care needs.

Staying Put- Making modifications and hiring help.

We would rather live out our lives in the familiarity of our neighborhood, our own house, and among our own treasures.

An agricultural science acquaintance down the street from us, managed, with help, to live in his home, surrounded by his research orchard of fruit trees, to age 101. He was doing light pruning, with his special walker, at 101!

If he can do it, why not us? Even in our house, with stairs, narrow hallway, and tight corners, can’t we adapt and modify and manage to live our life out in our own, very special to us, home. There must be others who have gone through all this.

One way is to organize mutual self help. We learned of the “Village to Village Network.”

Village to village network How about help, community, and elder problem solving? (1++,2++,3+,4)

We joined forces with a group of elders interested in creating a mutual support group and subscribed to the Village to Village network.  Using their methods and procedures we wanted to create an organization where we could share our talents. Someone could give a ride to the grocery store. Recommendations for good help and contractors could be shared by developing a roster of group critiqued gardeners, housekeepers, and other folks. We learned that small tasks like changing a living room light bulb, getting groceries and stashing them, and other small thing could be major obstacles to “aging in place” in your own home. As a group, though, we could do all these things.

Not becoming isolated is one of the most important tasks in this aging process. We were developing affinity groups, pot lucks, and other social activities.

We planned to be both “client” and “provider” in the small tasks of aging.

Something like 300 similar types of organizations have been created through out the country. All self constructed, but with the help of the national organization. Many groups, we learned, enthusiastically start up, and the fizzle at some point. That was us.

Our downfall was transitioning from a prototype organization of 10 or so to a functioning organization of 150 or so. We had lots of interest. However, we had planned to add a rider(which we would pay for) to our supporting organizations insurance plan to gain the necessary insurance coverage. Nobody, including the supporting organization, thought this would be a problem.

The insurance company denied the change and refused to add the needed rider.

This was at a point of a years work, and being on the cusp, of becoming a functioning organization. Now, we needed to back up and create a new independent business form. It was doable, but the groups energy dwindled and the appetite to essentially start over just was not there. We disbanded.

If not a formal network, how about an informal ad-hoc support group (1++,2+,3-,4–)

While the more formal network approach didn’t make it, we had learned a lot about what types of support might be needed, and what the community already has available. We started supporting, joining and building our own support network. Some examples follow.

One of our neighbors, mid 80’s, lives alone in the house where his long deceased wife and he raised two daughters. He’s very mentally with it, but has physical problems and uses a walker and no longer drives. Our next door neighbor, and we also, take his morning paper and afternoon mail to him. So two times a day he has company and other folks who are keeping a helpful eye on him.

Another group of about 10 friends has grouped together and formed a tool exchange group. It’s simple: An email list. Send a request, and if someone can help with a tool, advice, or whatever, they respond.

Our book club, 10 folks, get together monthly for a potluck and book discussion. We are all in this aging process, so “off-topic” discussions abound concerning health and aging issues.

We are  involved in various groups:  in a writers group, a fused glass guild, three dance communities, two artist critique groups, a weekly coffee group, and a very active “Academy for Life Long Learning” organization. For exercise, we belong to an athletic club and participate in a number of group classes, as well as swimming and water walking. So far, we have avoided the isolation problem.

We are doing all sorts of things to make our house more amenable to our current aging state. Alexa, the talking speaker [Link to my post] helps us talk with each other from various places in the house, shop and gardens, as well as provide music, group calls, and a lot or reminder helps. We have added more hand rails, and removed slick surfaces, and rugs that could be a tripping hazard. We’ve decreased our garden size and pruned our fruit trees low enough so no ladder is needed.

With all of our pro-active work, relatively good health, friendly neighbors, we have a chance to be able to age gracefully and pleasantly right here in our own home.

But, as I mentioned before, there are areas where we are currently experiencing difficulties, and we are aware they could get more difficult over time. So our hope of aging in place at our current home may not be our best options.

Following is a summary of other ways.

Other approaches to living in retirement

Our hope, as you can tell from above, is to live in our current home until we die, which we hope is many years away. But we also recognize, at least intellectually, that this might not be our wisest choice. (By the way if you’ve read this far, click here for a thank you!)

So we are exploring options.

Now a days, when meeting people I often sway the conversation to retirement experiences, dreams, and realities. For us, most of the options are not likely to happen – too much community, too little community, life styles that aren’t ours, money issues, governance realities, lack of potentially needed medical help, and so on. I do, though, enjoy listening and learning about other peoples search for home, for milieu.

Senior Co-Housing (1++,2+,3-,4)

(see co-housing.org and The senior co-housing Handbook: A Community Approach to Independent Living

Co-housing is a reaction to the separateness verging on isolation that often exists in  many neighborhoods. A co-housing facility is designed to encourage people to meet and greet on a daily and casual basis. There is group space for community dinners and other gatherings. Everyone has their own private houses or apartments. A lot of effort goes beyond the physical design and is toward a community, participant oriented, consensus oriented governance. Weekly or more dinners, group times for landscape maintenance, cars parked slightly away from the living spaces. I like the approach, have followed the development of them since the late seventies, but we have always balked at actually joining. Just a little too much planned community for us.

Out of our groups attempt to create a “Village to Village Network” local organization, a group interested in building a senior co-housing facility coalesced. They followed the procedures outlined in the “ book”, and gathered together a group of folks interested in forming a co-housing organization. One of the key differences in co-housing over a condo development is the inclusion of spaces where it is likely you will meet and chat and get to know your neighbors. Usually a central club house where weekly dinners and other activities, impromptu as well as planned, can happen. The biggest though is the building of a group governance structure. Even before a building is designed, the building of this cohesive self governance system is undertaken.

This group formed an alliance with a local non profit housing organization, as well as some co-housing consultants, to gain help and expertise in finding their way through the maze of financial obstacles, city planning and development criteria, and the interlocking of local state and federal rules- which may or may not apply. Simple things can get complicated very quickly. In their case the non profit they affiliated with determined it was not a project that fit their criteria – even though they had been active a decade earlier in forming a fully functioning co-housing development.

There are, however, functioning Senior co-housing units and it is usually possible to buy into one – although there may be a wait until and opening is available. Link to a cohousing directory

Cluster small homes- Privacy and community space – and a small scale.  (1++,2+, 3,4)

We are intrepid do-it-yourself enthusiasts. While we certainly use experts and professionals where needed, our leaning is do create and build and use our own efforts and skills as much as possible. It’s probably why, over the years, we have not joined a co-housing group, or an intentional community. It just always seems a bit too confining.

In our dreams- what we would like to find a group of like minded do-it-yourself enthusiasts, maker types, and artistic types with physical independence, frugality and enough social good characteristics to make a small community smoothly function.

How many? Not more than a dozen with a male, female, single couple, etc mix. Diversity in exterior characteristics, but a commonality in “buying in” on the idea of a small community with agreement and support for a method of self governance – without need for continually reinventing same.

The physical characteristics would provide for small private spaces. And large public/private spaces consisting of studios and workshops for each, opening to a common space of shared, more expensive tools and machines. Basically a technical, artistically oriented maker space with private areas too. Since we are aging, we would have arrangements available so a shared helper/nurse could be on site. There would be a space for shared dining, with a paid cook to prepare a meal per day. The facility would be on a bus stop, but would also encourage bikes and ride sharing. The concept is to provide space and opportunity for personal activities, and help when it is needed. It would be a place of activity and a place of repose as life’s aging happens.

The key, of course, is finding the “Merry dozen.”

The physical structure could be built using interesting modular structures, placed creatively. Costs and building times could be minimized and also sequenced and self financing is not out of the question.

Besides finding like minded people the next problem is that in most jurisdictions there is no appropriately zoned land available, to just “do it.”

Purchase a trailer Court, a motel,or an apartment building (1+, 2+, 3-, 4–)

In searching the Internet and in casual conversations the idea sometimes comes up to take an existing structure, already code and planning department approved, purchase it and convert it to a DIY senior co-housing type facility. I believe in past years I’ve heard of some co-housing units developed with this model.

A number of problems seem to consistently, in my mind, come up. First, in most cases you muse evict the current residents. I simply can not do this.

If an older structure is for sale there is usually a reason and when you find it, the solution usually entails a pile of money.

There are a lot of code hoops to go through when you significantly modify a building. Many come as surprises.

Coming up with a sizable number of like minded people to create the energy pool and money pool to do it is difficult.

None of the above makes the project unthinkable or undoable. It will not be simple, however.

A fictional approach!

Put together an old house, a curmudgeon of big hearted, practical old guy, and a bunch of other old folks and you have the makings of a story. Author Gregg Kleiner takes this setting, and creates a whimsical story of “aging in place” with others. It’s heart warming, sad, and hits on many of the issues all of us in this aging process think about from time to time. Their solutions of issues might leave something to be desired, like using a tractor to create a hoist for getting a wheel chair bound lady to an upper floor. Or creating an enthusiastic ball team complete with uniforms. Or kidnapping an older lady trapped and whithering away in a nursing home.

There is elder audacity (should we not all show a little of it?). There is the recognition and actuality of dying (it does happen to everyone, it’s just a little closer for us elders). There is a practical disdain and abandon of societies land planning and building codes ( and don’t we all have a little of this especially when the “social good” seems to negate our own personal good.) Only in fiction can you bring out serious issues in such a number of delightfully conceived ways.

It’s been a bunch of years since I have read the book, written when the author was fairly young, but somehow he effectively caught the feelings of frustrated elders deciding to take things in their own hands. And I have remembered it.

I listed it here under “Options” which it of course isn’t. What it is, though, is a optimistic, DIY, and exaggerated approach to aging. I think it is a fun book to read for any one actively aging and feeling a bit constrained by “the system.” Enjoy!

“Where River Turns to Sky”,: Gregg Kleiner c1999

Share a big house (1, 2, 3-,4–)

When the topic of living communally while aging, invariably the idea of a big old house comes up: each person with a private room, shared kitchen baths, living space etc.

It can work. In college four of us got together and rented a nice apartment. We apportioned jobs, Ted the cook, Keith and myself the kitchen cleanup and sous cook, and Lynn the bathroom maintainer. It worked extremely well. Four busy, individualistic young men and we seemed to informally handle all the “governance” quite easily. Susan was so impressed she married me!

Another example is the old boarding room approach. Someone has a large house and takes care of food, cleaning and the like, and everyone has a private space and community area access. All major decisions are handled by the owner-Take it or leave it. When I went to Washington DC right after college for my first real job, I stayed for a week at a boarding house just off Dupont circle. I liked the food, the freedom from community chores and thought the owner did a pretty good job, and there were other interesting people. But, it was a wayside stop for me, not a long term living arrangement.

Recently I heard about four professional woman, still working, but older, who teamed up, bought a house, subdivided it, and were making it work.

So their are models. From Greg Kleiner’s fictional house to self defined group houses.

For Susan and myself, with our art and many other interests it just does not seem appealing as a retirement living method.

A Tiny House as a retirement option? (1,2,3—,4—-)

We’ve looked a tiny bit at the tiny house movement and the possibilities they might provide. It is enticing to me to think of tiny homes as modular spaces, adding and subtracting modules as life needs change.

We do have experience living in tiny spaces. Since retiring 15 years ago we have traveled all over the US and Canada in our tiny Tacoma pickup camper. Some years we have lived in our camper for up to two months of travel. This though, is very different from a city “tiny house,” for us the outdoors is our living room, our social space, and our delight. See my posts [Link: more to come] under slow travel.

There is lot’s of activity in the tiny house movement on the web. For an interesting collaboration in Germany of tiny house, architecture and art,

For us, though, we feel a small house, not tiny house, movement makes more sense. 500-800 sq ft with studio and workshop space available elsewhere feels reasonable and doable to us. 100-200 sq feet doesn’t. Still, it is a movement of interest.

Full-time Living in a RV (1+,2+,3-)

With the plethora of RV parks it seems there should be a fit somewhere. Full time RV living is doable. Parks exist with all sorts of amenities including workshops, affinity groups, exercise programs and at least one, (get link) that specializes in medical issues. We recently met a couple living full time in their RV. They headquarter in the NW for summers and the Southwest for winters. Lot’s of friends and activities. They say their RV, with pullouts, is very comfortable. It’s a life style they like. She does writing and he does on site sewing machine repair.

Amenities usually include at least a club house and pool. Some have planned activities, exercise programs, craft shops, and social activities.

What happens if you need medical care? On an Internet search I found “Escapees Care” in Texas. It is non profit and provides adult day care and a residency program designed for RV ers. Meals, medical care, RV space and more is available at a basic rate of about $1500/couple/month.

Susan and I are home based and while we find tiny RV travel delightful and fulfilling, we always want to get back to our “real” home and community. It just doesn’t quite feel appealing enough for us to give it a try.

Moving to Panama (or other expatriate society)(1+,2+,3)

With low cost medical care, a moderate climate, delightful people, beautiful landscapes, why not move and join up with other expatriates – no need to become expert at another languages, and you can still be “sort of” a part of a different community. It has certainly worked for some. Others spend, according to one anecdotal report about three years and decide to return. It’s worth exploring, but we haven’t done it and likely won’t.

Living in a commune. (1++,2, 3—)

We enjoy going to the off beat, alternative, colorful,wacky spirited Oregon Country Fair[. It’s too crowded, too dusty, and sometimes too noisy for my introverted personality. But just the same, we enjoy the costumed people watching, the varied dances at the Dance Pavilion, the food variety, the many entertaining stage shows, and probably most of all, the unexpected and unplanned conversations that just seem to happen.

We happened by “Spirit tower” which provides a setting for spoken word performances. It’s positioned next to a river bank, just on the other side of Jill’s Crossing bridge. A tall, skinny, country dressed older man, was talking about creating a retirement place as an adjunct to “The Farm,” [link www.thefarm.org]a long lasting commune started in the early 1970’s in Tennessee. Their motto is “Out to Save the World.” ( An update: I saw an un verified post that the facility did get started but is now being purchased for other uses, and current residents must move)

He, the man whose name I have forgotten, was talking about some of the same retirement needs and options that I have been discussing. I stopped to listen. His hope is to create a retirement community as an adjunct to The Farm. Some of his desires are the same as ours: A desire to live simply, in a nice environment, to have community at hand, and help with aging as times change. He was concerned about aging in the community at large as the community needs active, energetic people. Too many oldsters, and the work just can’t get done – no matter how dedicated the idealism. I don’t know if it every came about. If so I wonder how they are handling things when lot’s of help, nursing home and the like help is needed. An article in the Atlantic Magazine explores retiring to “The farm.”

Another year we met a young woman involved with an education center for creating sustainable living skills. Among many things, they were looking into tiny houses as a way to sustainable living. How do they get the land use approvals, I think, was their current issue. “Would not some aging folks fit in,” I queried? Absolutely. Has the effort gone further? I don’t know.

Down one of the paths was a booth hosted by a local clothes optional community. The booth people were older, and we asked them about living full time in their community. You can place your own small “park” trailer on your own leased space. It’s a coop club and all members are expected to contribute. Basically, similar to “The Farm” except the idealism’s were different.

Yet another community, which we have visited many times, is a educational and healing hot springs intentional community, tucked away in the Cascade mountains. It’s our “get-away-place. We had a friend who lived there and was approaching retirement age. The community, he thought, was not at all clear on how to handle aging residents. He thought he would end up being the test case, but unfortunately became sick and died. I think in the years since they have developed some sort of slow down for aging members . However being many miles from medical facilities, and no way to handle physical or mental difficulties, I have never thought of it as a place to retire.

And here’s a blog post written by a self proclaimed aging hippie with the catchy title: “I’m 65 and where are my aging hippie retirement communities?

For us, even co-housing seems too constraining, so living in some sort of a retirement commune probably would not be satisfying to us. Nor for other members, usually young, very idealistic, energetic, and totally unaware of the needs and contingencies of an aging population.

For us, talking about these options is fun, doing it? Nope.

The “Art Space” approach (1++,2+,3-, 4–)

According to their web site, Art Space is a non-profit developer of live/work space for artist housing, studios,arts centers and arts friendly businesses. They are dedicated to purchasing, preserving and making affordable living and studio space available for practicing or aspiring artists.

I really like the concept, and that they have managed to build 52 communities, with more on the way. I have not visited or even met anyone living and working in one of the communities but expect the synergy of being with other artists would have an inspiring effect on each persons art.

It is not touted as a retirement option, but does not seem to exclude artists that are aging. If we were 15 years younger and just starting our retirement years, we would likely seriously explore the option.

Assisted living approaches – (1—, 2-, 3+,4+)

My parents, in their 80’s, chose a retirement facility. In their own home they were becoming isolated as long time neighbors died or moved away. They flourished with the move, acquiring friends, finding outside volunteer opportunities, and enjoying the eating, billiards, card groups, buses, swimming pool, and gardens.

Susan’s mom, after Susan’s Dad died moved to a corner assisted living apartment over looking the Umqua River. She lived there comfortably for 20 years.

We toured a brand new nearby assisted living facility. They advertised a workshop to be able to continue hobbies, etc. It was a room with a table and a tiny bench with a couple of hand tools. The rooms were nice, the dining gracious, and it fit us not at all.

A number of friends have moved to an assisted living facility in Portland. It overlooks the Willamette river. It’s full of interesting and active people. My aunt lived there for many years. There are two wood working shops. A pool. Walkways from building to building. Beautiful gardens, two or three restaurants, and on and on. The apartments are nice. During our tour, we met a number of residents, all very friendly and helpful. We would likely end up fitting in. But,it was at the upper end of what we can financially afford and even with all the opportunities, it just felt too confining, to inward oriented, and a bit “client” oriented for our DIY characteristics.

The bottom line, for us, is with our current and expected life style we just can’t visualize us living in an assisted living facility. The time may come, and if it does we will embrace a move, but for now assisted living residences are off our list – no matter how many features!

What we will likely do – A  two pronged approach

We are definitely on a two pronged plan, while keeping an openness for other plans and opportunities which could unexpectedly arise. Who knows, a likable group of artists and makers might set up a relatively inexpensive facility in Panama – or some such equally unlikely opportunity. Low probabilities do not mean that something can’t happen. This thinking reminds me of the “Hitch hikers guide to the Galaxy”  and its Infinite Probability Drive where infinitesimally probable events are harvested and used. I don’t expect low probability events to happen, but I certainly give them opportunity!

Gently altering our life style (1++,2++,3 ,4–)

But back to higher probability realities, we are daily working on simplifying our lives: Getting rid of books – much loved, and much un-needed. Fixing anything that we can around the house. We put on a new roof, took out a old not-working hot water solar collector, and have been and are installing handrails and other safety features. I’m simplifying my shop, selling off, and giving away tools I no longer need. We’re decreasing our garden size and making yard maintenance simpler – though it’s still a lot. We’re decreasing our night driving and exploring, but not yet using, local bus service. Bus service for us is once an hour, and entails a 1/3 mile walk down and up the hill, and runs only during the day.

I’m changing my woodworking activities to be on much smaller scale – hoping to flip from real scale to model scale. I have on my drawing board a scale model of the 1920’s amusement park on top of Council Crest in Portland. I hope to include working, scale model trolley cars, a multitude of 1020’s era amusement rides, all controlled with servo motors and an Arduino microcomputer.

Currently I’m still building things that take whole sheets of plywood and lugging sacks of concrete around – too heavy for me to pleasantly work with. Going to scale models will be a welcome, but a big change for me.

Both of us are doing much more in 2D art in medium and small formats. We’re doing an on line class in figure drawing which means we don’t need to drive at night to the local group. Another big change.

Perhaps, with enough simplification, some hiring, and use of public transportation we can “age in place” right here.

A senior Village may be in our future (1,2++, 3++,4+))

A likely move is to a senior village 10 miles away. Close enough that we can maintain many of our current activities and friends. We are on a list for a style of house, within our budget, and with space for a model shop and studio. Besides my own shop, I (and other qualified residents) can use the facilities wood shop. So any large scale cutting, planing needs, etc I can still accomplish – without need for my own tools. There is a small pool which is ideal for water walking exercise, and less than ideal, but probably workable, for lap swimming. Everything is on the flat. Facility buses make attending night events more possible than now, with our determination to limit rainy night driving. There is an on site restaurant, a library and a book club and a small group of artists, some of who we already know. Gardening plots are designed for ease of use as well as provide a social area. There are a lot of really good things about the village and it provides a somewhat balanced approach to the pros and cons of independence and gaining help, while, hope3fully, leaving room for maintaining our own identities and feelings of relevance.

Which way will we choose?

Probably we will end up opting for the Village should a place come up that fits what we are looking for, but the decision is not a foregone conclusion. The morbid side, is that for us to move in, someone has to die. That’s the reality, which we really would rather not recognize too vividly.

But what if some calamity strikes?

What if my knees give all the way out. Or Susan’s leg no longer functions. Or a debilitating stroke happens. Or the really scary stuff like Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s develops.

What then?

When more help is needed

For all of us there is a point where either 24 hour on site care, or in an establishment might be needed.

An advantage of a full service community is the amount of service provided can change over the years as needs arise. Some provide guaranteed acceptance of Medicaid payments should funds run out. In contrast, not being part of a facility means searching to find a place that will accept you – at a time when you are least capable of doing it. Moving to a facility with these services makes sense.

In the back of our minds there is always the hope that our bodies will know when the time has come and just let us gracefully die. and skip the whole stage 4 stuff.  I flippantly joke, I’ll probably die trying to do too much on the dance floor. A tremendous way to go, in my mind – but  who ever is dancing with me at that time might be a bit traumatized. Or  maybe, I’ll just stop eating. I had a friend who became progressively worse with ALS. In his final very debilitating stages he consciously stopped eating. It is, apparently, non painful, not too hard to do after the first two or three days. But when the need comes, will I have the mental capability to accomplish the task? Is a compassionate death even legal?  

Most of health care costs happen in the last 6 months . Where does the money come from?

Finances do matter in aging choices

For us there are definitely financial considerations. We live off of social security, some dwindling IRA accounts, and a real-estate investment. We have half ownership in a business that we are locked into which counts as a balance sheet asset but provides little income. We do own outright our home, which is what gives us the freedom of where our next milieu will be.

Since the seventies, for philosophical reasons, we have lived a relatively simple lifestyle and still subscribe to the ideas of the “voluntary simplicity” movement , pretty much now abandoned by society at large. We live well on less!r

From a financial aspect the most scary thing in our lives are health costs. Susan needed an angiography for her leg artery problems. It was $32,000 with no documentation of why. such a high cost. The insurance company paid most, without questioning the bill. A internet search showed what seemed to be comparable costs in the $2,000 to $10,000 range.  Medical costs could easily bankrupt us. And we’re pretty healthy individuals.

Nursing home and memory care is somewhere in the $7,000 to 10,000 per month range – and it isn’t covered by insurance. The bills are paid by using up a patients resources, and then going on Medicaid- if you can find a place that will accept you. What about long term health care insurance. We subscribed for long term health care, but they kept raising the prices astronomically and/or reducing the benefits, and we finally decided even with it we would likely be on medicare.

For both Susan and myself we would rather just die from natural causes – before these options become needed. But, some things can’t be planned.

That’s our story, to date. What’s yours!

So that’s our story, with a big question mark still in place. As it should be. We have never been for a completely linear, well planned, life.  Like the cartoon image, only the man made road is straight in nature. Our road is full of jogs and jags . I like the unexpected good that often happens from making plans, but keeping the options open, and availing ourselves to things that just seem to happen!

We’d be interested in hearing your story of finding the right retirement living for your wants, needs, and “stages.” Use the comments section below. If you should end up writing a “mini essay” as I did, if you give me permission and it seems to fit,I’d put it in as another mini essay’s which gives a little more exposure than a long comment.

Happy Aging!

Interesting websites:

Hinessight.blogs.com “How things look through an Oregonians eyes. Buried in posts that range through many,many topics, there is one a few years back about folks wanting to find A “Hippie retirement” facility. Not everyone, including me,feels at home in the more “standard” model. Key words: “I’m 65. Where’s my “Aging Hippie” retirement community.”

https://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2011/11/peace-love-and-social-security-baby-boomers-retire-to-the-commune/248583/ – Returning to a Commune for aging – A wise idea?

More aging artists seeking affordable, artistic oriented retirement communities – and not finding them.

https://www.trulia.com/voices/Quality_of_Life/Where_are_the_affordable_retirement_community_for_-33452

Here’s an article about a number of old building in Seattle converted to art/artisan spaces -some live & work. It probably doesn’t fit the retirement mold, but it’s a step towards it.

https://www.seattletimes.com/entertainment/visual-arts/5-old-seattle-buildings-now-housing-cool-art-spaces/

Idea for a tiny houses surrounding studios, gallories and work spaces.

https://neighborland.com/ideas/santa-fe-a-tiny-house-village-for

Making the Crater Lake Art Piece

             Making the Crater Lake Art Piece

A collaboration using ceramics, wood, glass, resin, and acrylic mediums

 

 

First comes a nebulous mental image,
Ready for change, emergence and practicality,
With a life and growth seemingly of it’s own.
Sometimes art emerges.

The genesis of the Crater Lake  Art Piece

Crater Lake

Crater Lake

We started the Crater Lake  Art piece with some researching of Mt Mazama and the transformation to Crater Lake.

Seven hundred years ago, according to geologic measurements, there was a massive cataclysmic eruption at 12,000 ft high Mt Mazama. The entire top of the mountain was lost, not as a single cone, but as millions and millions of pieces of flying and flowing molten lava. The lava flows have been traced all the way to the Pacific Ocean and any one driving in the area will see many lava beds, slowly, very slowly, evolving to patches of vegetation.

The result is Crater Lake, the “the gem of Oregon,”. The caldera is filled with crystal clear water, always blue, but hypnotically so when enhanced by reflections of high, almost pure white cumulus clouds set in a field of sky blue.The water is cold. The summer surface can warm to 55-60 degrees Fahrenheit, and the rest of the 1,949 ft deep lake is at about 38 degrees year round. The surrounding rim is variable but about a thousand feet above the waters surface.

There is no known water exit from the lake, and it is filled solely from rain and local run off. It’s about 6,173 feet high. The slopes of Mt Mazama are laced with lava tubes, which collect water from the regions rains and snows. Some of the tubes interconnect and at places the flow becomes stronger, till at Boundary Springs the water emerges as a full river, the Rogue.

From here, the fully formed Rogue River starts it’s long journey to the Pacific Ocean. It starts not as

Rogue River Hike

Hiking thru the 50 mile wilderness section of the Rogue river .

a small spring as many rivers. But with a torrent. And except for a flood control dam it rushes at top speed, with falls, rapids, and a few restful pools, all the way to the Pacific Ocean. It’s a haven for white water rafters. Along the lower section  is a 50 mile section designated as a wilderness area. Its ancestry includes gold rushes, Indian, settler, and Chinese battles – and massacres. Now it is home to all sorts of wild life including black bears adept at stealing food, and rattle snakes sometimes found sunning themselves on the hiking trail.

I hiked the fifty mile trail  years ago and have  been intrigued with the area ever since. And that sets the stage for this art piece.

We started with a Poem

A local poet put out a call for artists to create a art piece based on one of her poems. Barb , a raku artist, sent me an email wondering whether I’d like to do a fused glass collaboration with her using a particular poem.
“Sure,” I said.

Green clay

Green clay before first firing.

We decided to make the piece as a clock, with a sculpted wood river (the Rogue), using some of my fused glass representations embedded, and a raku piece symbolically blue  and the roundish lake would be the background for the clock.
Redo:I won’t bother with the details, but that piece is still in slow process, because Barb drove over to my workshop, opened her Prius’s trunk to show me the crater lake clay work she had done as a start of the clock piece. I looked at it and said “I think this piece would be much better  displayed horizontally with an integrated support. She agreed, and we changed course.

A different course

So we sidetracked the clock piece, and the Crater Lake piece was started.

Picture of Cardboard mock-up

Cardboard mock-up

We wanted the lake to give off the essence of the deep blue of crater lake. So we brought in Sue, who happens to be my spouse and an acrylic artist, to figure out the color and how to apply paint to the ceramic.

In addition, we thought filling the lake with some sort of transparent medium would enhance the effect. Maybe crystal clear epoxy resin, an art medium that none of us had any experience with.

Research and tests of Epoxy Resin

Epoxy resin ready to mix.

I did a bunch of research and became intrigued with the potential of the resin material. I’m a bit frugal so the $70 cost of the resin was a blockage but my curiosity was whetted and I ordered a couple of quarts of the two part material and studied the precise mixing and application instructions as well as safety issues: Use rubber gloves, in a well ventilated room, kept above 75 degrees, mix the two parts, B into A, for five minutes, only do one-eighth inch layers, five hours apart, and let the completed application cure for 72 hours in that 75 degree room. These were pretty hefty constraints for my dusty, drafty workshop. The only criteria my workshop met was the well ventilated one.

How to get a constant 75 degrees in a 50 degree workshop?

Experimenting with the epoxy, glass, and clay was in order. I built a box above an electric space heater, used a temperature controller that I otherwise use for yogurt making and sous vide cooking to hold the needed 75 degrees temperature. Sue did various paint patches on both cardboard and bisqued clay, and I made small frames to layer clay, acrylic, glass and resin. Using my handy assistant, Alexa from Amazon, I made sure I adhered to all of the timing and waiting requirements and tried a bunch of combinations, cutting and layering glass to see how the resin, glass, acrylic and clay would work together.

The Raku Kiln is too small

We had another experiment in process. Barb’s raku kiln was not large enough for the piece. My glass kiln works fine for bisquing, (1825 degrees Fahrenheit), but there was no way we could duplicate the raku process with my kiln. Hence, the need to experiment with her low temp (in comparison) glazes in my kiln. The way raku takes on its beautiful hues is by creating an oxygen starved environment when the piece is at about 1800 degrees. Usually you remove the piece from the kiln and immediately put it in a container with combustible material, close it up, and the air is quickly used up leaving the reduction environment.

How about a blow torch?

We wondered if we could get some additional flavor on the piece by blow torching the low temp glaze. I tried it on a small piece. I thought it might crack, or worse, if any water were still embedded, blow up. So I wore a welding helmet and my leather apron.

Image of Blow torch test

Blow torch test

Surprisingly, I had no problem with cracking, and I could reheat the glaze and push it around for design use, and possibly could have rigged up some CO2 and oxygen to get small areas of either oxidation or reduction chemical processes. The problem though, is it was very difficult with my small torch to do more than very small areas and so we decided to shelve the blow torch idea for now.

Using a glass kiln for low temperature (1825 degrees F.) Ceramics

Image of Crater Lake in the Kiln

Rogue River in the kiln at 1825 degrees F.

Knowing we couldn’t predict the results and also knowing that the deadline for submitting the piece for exhibition was fast approaching, we decided to go ahead and glaze. Barb took the piece back to her studio and added the glazes. She brought it back and I ran it up to the 1825 degrees. She thought that maybe making it an oxygen environment might do interesting things, so when the kiln reached it’s 1825 degrees I cranked it open and marveled at the heat (I rarely open my kiln at these temperatures) and the fiery orange glow of the piece. I could not make out any colors or details  from the glaze.

It took the rest of the night to cool and in the morning I finally got to look at it. Nice, I thought. I snapped a picture and emailed it to Barb who was a bit disappointed. It wasn’t the colors she had expected. “But, they look nice,” I said, I think we’ve got a go. She drove over and when she saw it in person, agreed.

Using Acrylic paint on fired ceramic

Test pieces for color depth

We created a number of test pieces to try and determine how the acrylic paint, epoxy resin and ceramic would work together.

So now it went to Sue’s studio for two coats of sealer and painting the slightly textured deep blue. We didn’t know how the resin and glass layers would effect the color and in retrospect we would probably have darkened the center blue, slightly lightened the edges, and decreased the depth of the lake.

 

Fitting the glass – nearly impossible (Maybe I “need” a 3-D camera and mill?)

Glass not tight enough

Glass didn’t fit tight enough. Resi flowed through and puddled on the bottom. What to do?

Now back to my workshop. My job was to resin the entire painted area, and then to create a template to cut a piece of glass to exactly fit the lakes edge of the lake bed. That turned out to be nearly impossible, and I realized that I should have created the template while Barb was working with the clay. She then could have built the clay to  fit the template, and to provide me with a small lip to hold the glass on. Next time, if we ever do a similar art piece, that’s what we’ll do. So I worked the piece of glass, cutting and grinding to get the best fit I could. Finally it was close enough. I thought. I did the first resin pour and it dribbled through in a number of small and not so small openings around the edge.
What to do. I finally let the resin sit in the container till it was almost solid and then scraped some out and with a small spatula, and finally on the third attempt managed to clog all the dribble places.

There’s always a time crunch – Abandon the whole thing?

Now all this was happening just days before the piece was due for the “Celebrating Oregon” exhibit we were making it for. An unfortunate result of all the experimenting was that there was some resin pooled in the lower area, and the lake had expanded in size. It looked terribly sloppy. I was ready to abandon the whole thing. Barb said, “how about putting resin over all the inside cliff walls.” Bingo, I did, and then was able to weld the new resin with the old so it looks pretty good. And I like the cliff walls better this way.

So, we had the ceramic,/acrylic.glass/resin piece pretty much done.

Originally the base was to have a fused glass piece representing the gushing waters of the Rogue River headwaters and cutouts representing the trees of the forest. I also had the notion to build the base of three pieces of compound curved sections of Baltic Birch plywood. At this stage it was obvious that that was going to be way to “busy, busy.” We decided to simplify and leave out the fused glass waterfall and Doug Fir symbolism.

Compound curves in plywood – Many clamps.

Clamps

Baltic Birch plywood in process to achief the compound curves.

I cut the pieces and glued, and epoxied, with quite a bit of difficulty, into the curves that I had envisioned. With lots of clamps, a small jig and some luck, I got it all together. Since Sue was going to paint the piece, I hadn’t worried about making all the joints perfect. “Do you really think it needs paint?” she asked. “I thought so, but we put the clay piece temporarily on top and the natural wood approach looked reasonable. Painting might easily detract. After more sanding, filling, and five coats of shellac it looks pretty sharp, or so I think.

The original method of attaching the ceramic piece would no longer work,so more experimenting. I also needed a base so that the unit would not tip. I built a pedestal, and in the sleek top, embedded a hefty bolt. This allows snugging the two pieces together very tightly, and also it can be disassembled for transportation if it is ever needed.

Stand in process

Stand in process

Taking a art photo of the piece.

Fortunately for this exhibition we did not need a professional level photograph. We did need a nice background. On another project I had hung a large piece of tan felt along a wall. I resurrected it, repositioned it, and put the piece on it. We had to wait for the direct sunlight to disappear, and then I took a few shots.

Due date!

So that’s today and the photo this afternoon, and we need to deliver it, if accepted, to the gallery in two days. The resin will just barely be cured  by when it is due at the gallery. After affixing some last minute felt pads and positioning blocks, and filling out the tedious paper work,  the three of us headed off for the gallery, Barb holding the ceramic piece separately from the rest.

Vulnerability, ego and collaboration.

Why did I think it necessary to write this? Partly because no one has any idea what goes into an art piece and while this essay doesn’t even begin to describe all the options and ideas we discarded along the way, it might give an inkling. There is personal ego in all art creation and collaboration exposes the vulnerability we each have in creating a collaborative art piece. There is synergy and camaraderie in collaboration. For me, it is the process which provides the artistic satisfaction, even while aiming for a particular goal. Will it garner any attention at the gallery? Probably not, and for me, it doesn’t need to.

But more importantly I thought it would be nice to give an example of one of the things that I and Sue do as “diy Elders.” During our career, family raising, days, we simply did not have time for this sort of art work collaboration. Not only do we enjoy it, even the frustrating parts where things don’t work as planned, I think that this sort of work/play is essential for good health in the aging and living process.

So what’s the next project? And what sorts of emergence will it take?

Time will tell.

 Post script – Things we’d do differently

We experimented with four different, to us, media types and procedures: Low temperature ceramics and glazes; use of ceramic stains; firing in a electric glass kiln instead of a ceramics kiln; using acrylic paint over ceramics for color; using a compound bending approach for the plywood; incorporating epoxy resin and glass to create the lake. Not everything worked as well as we wanted, but we now have a number of additional techniques to use in other art projects. Here’s some thoughts to keep in mind:

  • Low fired ceramics might be useful in the future, but Raku gives a distinctive look, which we all like.
  • Design the piece so that it will fit in the Raku kiln.
  • Eliminate the lake bowl. The resin  and glass will give the feeling of depth.
  • Make a template that  can be used in the clay molding, so that the glass will accurately fit.
  • Experiment with color, resin, glass and raku to get a deeper eye catching blue.
  • For gallery viewing, the  horizontal orientation makes it difficult to see until fairly close. My thinking, for now, is to not create any piece that does not have a vertical orientation if it is going to be shown in a gallery.
  • Try and integrate some of the elements into the stand like the first model – only better. (A wider front, tree cutouts, and  fused glass  water  emerging representation.