Riding Solo

Centrifugal force

2012-02-13T16:26:00.001-08:00

I used to say that my children kept me from spinning off from centrifugal force, the force being my desire to escape all the mundane day to day abuse from John Q, the boss, the laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, etc...My love for them and my sense of responsibility kept me firmly grounded. J once again is expressing his need to leave, feeling pressure to go somewhere to find a job that pays an actual living wage and allows him to have some time free for himself. Apparently our relationship doesn't carry enough weight to hold him here. I tried to tell him that it changed things between us, that knowing that he's hoping for a new beginning elsewhere and just biding his time until that happens changes things between us. The elephant sits on my chest and J doesn't seem to feel any other pain than fear for his own survival, or at least he doesn't show it. To be fair, he was always honest with me, he was talking about leaving the area in search of a better job when I met him. My own need to have him in my life is the reason we're now cohabiting. Well, I don't know how much longer he'll stay with me, but somehow I have to buck up and make the best of the time we have left. I guess it's fitting that I never changed the title of my blog.

2012-02-13T06:10:00.001-08:00

This is just so wonderful, no other words are necessary

2012-02-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

2012-02-06T11:39:00.000-08:00

I wish I could just get on my bad motor scooter and head for the hills. I was fine the first week after Dad died, but this week I've been floundering in an awful funk. All of the things that usually give me pleasure in life; knitting, reading, blogging seem meaningless. I'm having a tough time working up the energy for even my basic minimalist version of housekeeping, and I can't seem to find a nice thing to say to anyone. Every request seems to be over and beyond my level of patience. Too bad it's tax time, which really brings all the crazies into my realm. I just had a call from someone who was volunteering for the city assisting people with their income tax returns . She needed a"book" that contained the county codes and school district codes. I found them listed on line within seconds, but although I could hear her typing away on her computer, it took at least 15 min. of explaining to convince her she should be searching for the information online and to walk her through the process of finding it. AAAaarrrgggghhh.... and she's the one helping the incapable people!

2012-01-19T12:20:00.000-08:00

Corporations are not people and I have the story to prove it. I accidentally threw out my replacement debit card and I'm suffering the inconvenience of waiting for the replacement and forced to use the archaic method of writing checks. Today, with the gas tank empty I stopped at the Kroger grocery store on W Jefferson, the same one I've shopped at for the last 20 years. I bought about $13 of groceries and wrote the check for $20 more than the total to get cash for gas. APPARENTLY (you only find this out at your inconvenience) you're only allowed to do this once within a 10 day period. I asked to talk to someone in management at the store, told him the situation I was in, and despite the fact that he was very SORRY, he was not able to deviate from the corporate policy. So, despite the fact that I've been a customer of Krogers for at least 20 years and work less than a mile from the Kroger store, management is unable to make a decision that deviates from corporate policy. Hmmm... despite what Mitt Romney says about corporations, don't expect any empathy, compassion or independent thought when interacting with them or their lackeys, they're just not capable of it. I made it back to work without running out of gas, now all I have to do is get to the gas station with the $5 borrowed from a co-worker. She definitely is a person! Thanks Shelley! As for Kroger's, they've annoyed me so much it's going to be quite a while before they see any more of my money whether it be cash, check, or debit cards!

2012-01-18T16:54:00.000-08:00

I've just been going through the pictures that I've taken over the last month and here are a few of my favorites. The first and last are of this year's Christmas tree which is a blue spruce and being planted in the backyard in honor of Dad.

2012-01-13T03:27:00.000-08:00

Well, this will be a true test of my little car and my courage. I'm heading to Indy to pick up Chocolate Eyes at the airport, with winds of 27 mph and blowing and drifting snow. Then, if I hurry right back I may beat the extra 2-4 inch accumulation coming this afternoon. I hate driving in snow. AAAAaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhh!

He's gone.

2012-01-12T05:58:00.000-08:00

My father, Sylvester Ross Whitenack, died on Monday January 9th, 2012 without pain. Mom, with the help of hospice and my sisters and I, was able to care for him at home as he wished. It will take a long time to adjust to his loss.

More with less... it's the trend of the day for the 99%

2011-12-27T12:36:00.000-08:00

I find it strangely ironic to be reading George Sand right now for a number of reasons... J is such a kind, empathetic man, so when he says something that cuts, it feels as though the rest is all a charade; that he only goes through the motions of showing love and doesn't actually know the real emotion. It hurts so much that each time we sit down to have a " talk", he threatens to leave. He knows I don't want him to go and will compromise greatly to have him stay. Thank goodness the compromise is only money and not some other soul crushing need or even worse, addiction. I've escaped unscathed from that situation once already and know that I don't have the fortitude or tolerance to endure it. So, thank goodness it's only money.

Gustav or Fish Out of Water

2011-12-08T08:45:00.000-08:00

I was flipping through the pages of the newly published Bippolo Seed and Other Lost Stories when I found the story of Gustav the Goldfish. While reading the first few lines, I realized that it was the same story as Fish Out of Water by Helen Marion Palmer. Now, I knew that Theodore Geisel used several pseudonyms, most famously Dr. Seuss, but also Rosetta Stone, and Theo Lesieg; but I'd never seen Helen Palmer mentioned as a pen name. I just know in my gut that Theodore Geisel would never have plagiarized another author's books, so a-googling I went. It didn't take long to learn that Helen Marion Palmer was Dr. Seuss's first wife. They were married for 40 years but it was not a good ending for Helen. She committed suicide after battling cancer and chronic pain for thirteen years. Eight months later, Theodore Geisel married Audrey Dimond, who had been the wife of his friend, Dr. E. Grey Dimond. In Seuss's own words, "My best friend is being divorced and I'm going to Reno to comfort his wife." This whole story is interesting on a number of levels. Who wrote the story of Gustave the Goldfish/ Fish Out of Water? Dr. Seuss? his wife? or was it a joint writing project? Whoever wrote it, Dr. Seuss is getting credit for it now. After all, if you published a story by Helen Palmer, everyone would say, "Who?" The other thing that makes this bit of trivia so delightful is that I was in the workroom filing books and talking to a co-worker about Gustave the Goldfish and the Fish Out of Water , when the boss chimed in,
"Helen Palmer, that's another pseudonym for Theodore Geisel. Helen Palmer and Dr. Seuss are the same person." I dropped silent and then just as pleasantly as possible, said, "Actually they're not, Helen Palmer was Theodore Geisel's first wife." as I watched her face turn bright red. And that's the way our society worked in the fifties, men always got the credit, whether they were the ones claiming their spouse's intellectual property or whether it was just assumption made by society.

So what would Helen Palmer think of the newly published Bippolo Seed? I'm guessing she would have been just fine with it;

Helen's last note to Ted: "Dear Ted, What has happened to us? I don't know. I feel myself in a spiral, going down down down, into a black hole from which there is no escape, no brightness. And loud in my ears from every side I hear, 'failure, failure, failure... I love you so much ... I am too old and enmeshed in everything you do and are, that I cannot conceive of life without you ... My going will leave quite a rumor but you can say I was overworked and overwrought. Your reputation with your friends and fans will not be harmed ... Sometimes think of the fun we had all thru the years ..."
Source: Judith and Neil Morgan. Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel: A Biography. pg. 195.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Cinnamon Pecan Crunch

2011-12-01T09:02:00.000-08:00

We're trying out a new recipe that I found in the newspaper, Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Cinnamon Pecan Crunch. It's torturing us with wonderful smells from the oven right now, lots of cinnamon and ginger. Yum! It seems like the perfect dish to celebrate the first snow of the winter.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Cinnamon Pecan Crunch

Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 1 hour

3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar, divided
2 tablespoons orange juice
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger, divided

1/2 teaspoon salt
3 pounds sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 cup dried cranberries
6 tablespoons butter, cut up, divided

1/2 cup flour
1 cup chopped pecans
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix 1/4 cup brown sugar, orange juice, vanilla, 1/2 teaspoon each of the cinnamon and ginger, and salt in large bowl. Add sweet potatoes; toss to coat well. Spoon into 13 x 9-inch baking dish. Sprinkle evenly with cranberries. Dot with 2 tablespoons of the butter. Cover with foil. Bake 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, mix flour, remaining 1/2 cup brown sugar and remaining 1 teaspoon each cinnamon and ginger in medium bowl. Cut in remaining 4 tablespoons butter with a fork until coarse crumbs form. Stir in pecans. Remove sweet potatoes from oven and stir gently. Sprinkle evenly with pecan topping.
Bake, uncovered, 25 to 30 minutes longer or until sweet potatoes are tender and topping is lightly browned. Makes 8 servings.

Screwed!

2011-11-26T06:05:00.000-08:00

Well, my riding season is now officially over. I just don't have the extra $2-300 to have it replaced. I don't think you're supposed to plug motorcycle tires, but I bought a plug kit to limp me into the bike shop when I'm ready. I guess I'll invest in a lift and worry about the tire next year. Of course I had to discover it just when the planets had alligned and J and I finally had a day off together to take a ride. What a bummer.

2011-11-26T06:01:00.000-08:00

2011-11-21T10:11:00.000-08:00

I think she's trying for a all new world's record for calling in sick on Mondays while still keeping her job. I was lamenting the fact that I decided against going to the doctor and instead took the last stashed pain pill for a strained back that I injured a couple of weeks ago, when I arrived at work and my co-worker told she'd called in again. The injury was long enough ago for the boss to have stuck me with two solo Mondays since, so I guess I'm calling to make an appt. with the doc. That and the cold temps have kept me from doing much riding and the impending winter season always dampens my spirits. J and I had plans to get a couple of things accomplished over the weekend, we wanted to get the topper on the garden bed, and even though that didn't I happen, I did get all my geraniums pulled up and stored for the winter. Since I was trying to rest my back I spent the whole day Saturday curled up with Haruki Murakami's IQ84. J went to Tim's to barter skills, computer help exchanged for help with a tire that needed plugged. He was gone for so long that I had gone past worry to muttering under my breath, "What?! Is his finger broke!" and on the way to being righteously pissed when the phone rang. It was J and he immediately passed the phone over to Tim to explain that he'd been sitting there with his coat on ready to leave for the past two hours. I let Tim sweet talk me for awhile and then invited him over to share freshly made chili and cornbread. It was pretty funny when Tim started teasing J about being a vegetarian and eating chili made with ground beef. J just stood up walked to the kitchen and retrieved the veggie crumble packets from the freezer and pointed at the chili. J had a big grin on his face so I guess he enjoyed turning the joke.

2011-11-14T13:53:00.000-08:00

I had a wonderful day off Friday, just abandoned all the "shoulds" and had a lovely hike in the woods. I saw small groups of bluebirds throughout the woods, a huge raptor hanging out around the lake, and one of my favorite ferns. Here's a few photos that don't come close to showing the glory of the day.

The boss is sick and it's Monday!

2011-10-31T10:05:00.000-07:00

I know only a couple of reasons why someone would be chronically ill only on Mondays;
       -either you're unable to work an entire week and you need a part time job or need to consider retiring
        -or you're tying one on every weekend and you're too hungover to make it in to work
         (even if you don't schedule yourself in until noon).

Perhaps I'm overlooking some other possible reasons. Does anyone have any suggestions?

2011-10-12T05:28:00.000-07:00

Well, the big cheese is chipper despite having called in sick for the last two days in a row, and who wouldn't be after a lovely relaxing 4 day weekend?

My brown eyed boy called a couple of times yesterday to keep me informed on his progress. He arrived safely in New Orleans and is moved into his apartment. He pronounced it nice, but also said it was surrounded by chain link fence and cameras. He doesn't have anything other than a bed, a chair and a couple of lamps so I'm sure he's feeling very displaced and possibly homesick. I did mention that he called a couple of times, right?... I went to bed thinking about him being in a city where he doesn't know a single person in an apartment without furniture, then woke at 2 AM worrying about him and composing a short grocery shopping list for him in my head.

2011-10-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

This was definitely a momentous weekend. We spent last week shopping for a bike for J, and found one for a fair price in Wabash. Of course it had to be at a farmhouse on a long gravel road! (thank goodness it wasn't freshly graveled). We looked at the 2009 Honda Shadow Spirit and I think the seller was surprised when I strapped on my pretty pink helmet to take it for a test drive, I heard J explaining as I headed down the lane that I'd been riding for 16 years and I would be the best person to evaluate it. When I got back from my zippy little joy ride I pronounced it straight and true with good brakes and smooth shifting. The next night we both rode my bike back to Wabash to pick it up, and by the weekend it was plated and insured. J rides as though he was always meant to, with very little newbie stress. I'm very proud of him. Then Ben announced that he would probably be leaving for New Orleans on Monday. He meant leaving from Indy on Monday, leaving home from home, Sunday. So, I scurried to mix up an enormous batch of cowboy cookies, full of oatmeal, raisins, and walnuts, and sent him off with a batch right out of the oven. My brown eyed baby is on the way to New Orleans, finally starting his first job in his career field but with no family nearby for back-up. Please beam any spare positive energy you have his way during his long drive down.

2011-09-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

My first baby's moving to New Orleans. I'm excited and terrified for him at the same time. If any of my readers have experience living in the New Orleans area, do you have any sage words of advice to pass along?

Kokiwanee Colors

2011-09-14T09:02:00.000-07:00

I have time off work, but no money to go anywhere. That doesn't stop me from going out for a good cleansing stomp through the woods at one of my favorite Acres sites, Kokiwanee. There was a sign posted at the entrance that invasive plants were going through eradication and I'm happy to say that I didn't see nearly as much garlic mustard as I have in the past. I always do my part and pull it from alongside the path, but am so allergic to poison ivy and oak I don't dare stray too far for picking. The lovely purple flower is ironweed, reviled by dairy and beef farmers because it will take over a cow pasture since the cows won't touch it. Goats eat both that and another invasive species, multiflora rose, so that's another good reason to do away with the monoculture mentality.

Cosmos

2011-09-08T16:34:00.000-07:00

I've come to realize in the past few weeks that I have a political agenda and a way to promote that agenda. I am a humanist, a somewhat misanthropic humanist, but still... I don't think you're being honest if you say you can come away from 25 years as a public servant un-scarred. My current agenda is teaching the younger generation that the natural world is valuable and worth protecting. So, does that make me a deist? All I know is that the politicians who are hiding behind their public profession of Christianity while attempting to disenfranchise the poor with the eradication of minimum wage, the old with the eradication of social security, and the sick with their rejection of universal health care, cast shame on the name of Christ.

2011-08-20T08:02:00.000-07:00

This is fantastic! (insert dripping sarcasm). The search feature of our work software isn't functioning. When I called our IT department, their diagnosis was about the same as mine, "It's not working!" I'm sure it's much more comfortable for them to say that from the seclusion of their work space. I on the other hand have to face the public with their incessant questions and need for assistance without the proper working tools, and of course I discover this on the second hour of a very long 8 hour shift. Only three more years of working on Saturdays, actually I'm only responsible for 144 more Fridays or Saturdays until I'm eligible for retirement. No, I won't actually be able to retire, but hope to at least only work part-time. It'll probably mean foregoing health insurance, but why in the world would I need that in my sixties?

After watching Inside Job, having any HOPE of CHANGE sort of fizzles out like a week old party balloon. I don't care if you identify yourself as a republican, democrat, progressive, tea- partier, we all benefit from the truth being laid bare.

Almost a vacation day

2011-08-18T06:16:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else say it's almost like a vacation day for yourself when the boss takes a vacation day? That's true in my case, even if in taking the vacation day the boss goes against her own policy of only allowing one person off per day. One of my co-workers noticed the boss was gone and did a little happy dance as she read the schedule. Surprisingly, today's hit an all time high grand total of three people vacationing! and yes, of course the boss is one of them.

Unsettled

2011-08-15T11:27:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Incognito : the secret lives of the brain by David Eagleman. I made the mistake of reading some of the reviews on Goodreads before finishing it. It bugged me that some of the reviews labeled it as pop science, which seems dismissive of David Eagleman's career and education. I had encountered some of the contents before (Phineas Gage, synesthesia, subconscious/conscious mind) but what made this book so great was that he was able to convey his ideas so well that they were easily understandable.

2011-08-15T10:54:00.000-07:00

I've learned a whole new appreciation for the good works of my mother's hands. Yesterday, I chopped, cooked, and canned 6 half pint jars of Bruschetta, and blanched and froze 8 quarts of tomatoes. All this bounty from our little 6 x 12 garden! It would have been a lot easier day if I'd realized that I needed pickling salt, and sea salt wasn't a good substitute the first time I went to the grocery.. Pickling salt contains no iodine and won't discolor or cloud your canned food. So, that meant a second trip to the grocery for the day. They had the pickling salt but no fresh basil , which meant taking a longer ride around the city to the west side where you could count on the groceries to stock such luxury items as fresh basil. It was a beautiful day, so it wasn't a great sacrifice to take the longer scenic route on my bad motor scooter. I have my own basil but the poor plants been almost whittled down to a nubbins from the convenience of just being a step out the back door from the stove-top. It was just a little scary trying out the new pressure cooker, but it worked exactly as they said it would from start to end. While reading The Feast Nearby I learned that the canning jars containing store brand spaghetti aren't good enough quality to reuse, so I recycled all the ones I wasn't using to contain dried beans or nuts. The possibility that reused store brand jars could break inside the pressure cooker was incentive enough to go out and purchase new jars, lids, and rings.

I did pick up one indispensable tool that made the work easier.

I like the way it had rubber at both ends, so if you left it resting in boiling water, it didn't burn you the next time you picked it up. Can you tell I did that?

I also found the Ball Canning site that has useful canning ratios under the heading fresh tools. All in all the project was a huge success and since the garden is still producing tomatoes at a furious rate, I'm hoping to wrestle the recipe for the pineapple salsa from my sister, Carol. She gave me a jar last Christmas that I still remember, ummm, ummm, ummmm! but she's being fairly secretive about her recipe.

They should be called stinking nettles

2011-08-04T07:53:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking a lot about our garden and my reasons for having one. I don’ think I’ll even break even on the investment this year; I’m hoping next year will be more productive, since the garden bed will ready for planting spinach, kale, broccoli and onions in March. It was still in the planning stages in March of this year. This coming year I plan to be dining on spinach and kale before the summer vegetables are even planted. We have had quite a number of meals right out of the garden this year, tasty, fresh and entirely free of pesticides or chemical fertilizers (used borders of marigolds and cosmos to repel garden pests) I also did a little experimenting with organic fertilizer this year. I’d read a couple of gardening sources that said stinging nettles make excellent fertilizer. So, I decided to try it. I took a large sack and gloves to a nearby woods and picked nettles alongside the path. I made sure not to pick large quantities in any one spot, mostly due to the fact that if I stopped walking for more than a second the mosquitoes threatened to carry me off.

When I got home I packed the nettles tightly into a 3 gallon bucket and filled it to the brim with water. The instructions said to soak the nettles for least 2 days and then strain off the liquid and dilute it to the color of tea. They also warned to carefully consider the location of your nettle stew because it would be smelly. They weren’t kidding. It smelled like cow plops and attracted every fly on the block. It was so smelly and the bucket so unwieldy that I was afraid I would spill it on myself while straining the leaves from the tea; so, I drilled holes in another bucket the same size and gently pushed it down while dipping out the liquid to my watering can. I had enough to water all my new plants and flowers twice. I didn’t see miraculous results, but all my plants look strong and healthy despite the withering heat, and the baby ferns I planted this year are finally starting to grow.

2011-07-24T08:01:00.000-07:00

The summer squash is producing fast now, faster than our taste for fresh summer squash can keep up.

So, four quarts are blanched and cooling to go into the freezer. They'll be a great addition to soups and stews this winter. Aren't they pretty?

I've been reading a great book, The Feast Nearby: How I lost my job, buried a marriage, and found my way by keeping chickens, foraging, preserving, bartering, and eating locally (all on $40 a week) by Robin Mather. If you have a food garden, you'll enjoy this book. The recipes are interspersed rather abruptly, but the techniques she very plainly explains would build confidence in anyone who wants to preserve their garden bounty.

I love South Haven, Michigan

2011-07-11T15:47:00.000-07:00

J and I took a couple of days for ourselves and rode the bike up to South Haven, MI. I chose to take 69 only as far as Angola and then find a more scenic route. We took 20 w to 9 n, then took 12 w to M40 and then M43 to South Haven. It would normally take about three hours to get there, but since this was the first long distance bike trip we've taken together, we stopped a couple extra times to get gas, something to drink, and to stretch our legs. The weather was gorgeous close to the lake, the air so cool,under a beautiful sunny sky. We were both pretty ruddy before we even arrived. We spent the rest of the day at the beach slathered in sunscreen and munching snacks, drinking iced white wine and wading out into the chilly water. The beach was crowded and the water was moiled, probably because there were a couple of yachts anchored just beyond the swimming buoys. We both remarked on the wide range of ethnicity, age, and income of people strolling the pier walk and sunning on the beach. Close to where we'd pitched our sand claim, a group of Slavic/Russian young bloods started a game of volleyball. J asked me if I wanted to move, but even though I was reading I enjoyed watching all those young men in motion! As we were making the long trek back through the sand,
J started having some stiffness in his hip. By the time we got back to the motel, he had a lot of trouble getting off the bike. He'd strained a muscle in his hip, and I started worrying about the trip home the next day, or even if we were going to have to find emergency care for him that night.

On the way to dinner at Clementine's(ho-hummy) we stopped for some analgesic. After dinner we were both whipped and headed back to the room. J didn't sleep well, and I was beginning to worry that the next day was going to be disastrous, but J was determined to try to walk it off. We spent the morning breakfasting at The Phoenix Street Cafe the food was yummy and the wait staff were very friendly despite their busyness for the holiday. I was relieved to hear that J wanted to walk and that I wouldn't have to maneuver endlessly around the pedestrian busy streets at slow speed with him on the back. I had a good excuse for visiting one of my favorite shops in South Haven, the Perfect Setting.

They told me I could bring the silver bracelet(I bought it there on one of my first solo bike trips) in anytime to be polished. They were true to their word and said it would be ready in a couple of hours. While shopping I did find this little guy

who just had to come home with us. J didn't think I could cram it in the saddlebags, but I've been doing this for awhile, and I have my ways.

Next we wandered over to Black River Books to chat with the proprietors, Dick and Pam. It was nice to meet her, since the last time I'd talked to Dick, she'd been out of town for a week and he'd been pining for her. Then J and I wandered and window shopped until we got hungry and thirsty. The last time we were in South Haven camping, J and I had noticed a new restaurant preparing to open, and since it was now open for business we decided to check it out. It was one of the best parts of the trip. Su Casa has a very unassuming storefront, but the inside was lovely with minimalist decorating, beautiful colors, and the whole atmosphere was very pleasing.

I wanted a frozen cocktail and ordered a strawberry margarita, which was very good, but I wished I'd gone with my original plan of ordering a mojito. When I saw the one they brought J with the crushed fresh mint and raw sugar, I just had to taste it. It was to die for delicious, the perfect summer drink. It was so good that J ordered another to share with me. We tipsily wandered down to the marina to rest in the shade and watch the boats go by. J fell asleep, and I was just settling in with my book and telling myself not to worry about riding home in the dark through Bambi land, when J woke up and said it was probably time to head home. Although I wasn't enthusiastic about leaving that idyllic spot and donning the leather chaps for the ride home, I saw the wisdom in it and we headed out. We were almost home, when we ran into the glitch. I spontaneously decided to head south on 327 instead of taking 69. I thought the variety of road terrain would help combat my tiredness, but just outside of Corunna, we came to a state police roadblock and were diverted to a county road detour. J and I had a little difference of opinion about turning around to ask the state officer the best way to proceed or to just try to find our own way. I didn't want to have to make two u-turns with J on the back, so guess who won that one! We wandered our way to 8 and back to 327. We stopped one last time for gas, and for the second time on the trip, some random \ man felt obligated to point out how unusual it was to see a woman taking a man as passenger on her bike. I just gave him the barest grimace of a smile. J had his headphones on, so he pretended that he didn't hear it. The first time, some guy stopped at a traffic light in a truck said, You don't see that very often!" I just quipped back, "It's something we should see more often!" By the time I got to the north side of FW, I was exhausted and still had to battle through the stoplight capital of the world. All in all it was a wonderful trip and a welcome reprieve from the worry with my Dad, but it's taken both of us a day to recover!

Brain cancer isn't painless

2011-06-10T10:44:00.000-07:00

Dr Desjardins from Duke told us that brain cancer is painless, but he's definitely in pain now. Maybe we should have let him go without any treatments, because the pain is a result of the myriad medical interventions. Avastin is responsible for the blood clots in the leg and lungs, and the coumidan and heparin given to dissolve the blood clots caused the painful hematoma in his abdominal wall. Dad had another seizure last night, and has been vomiting since. My sister called and hospice is advising that someone needs to be there with Mom round the clock now. Carol will be there this weekend and I'll start my vigil on Monday. There's still a possibility that Dad will rally temporarily with another increase in his dosage of steroids. I'm not ready for him to go, but I'm ready for his suffering to end.

2011-05-31T19:06:00.000-07:00

I came home expecting to find J here, but he's over at Gretel's ( his daughter newly moved here from Arizona) I'm glad that he's making such a solid connection with his daughter, son in law, and grandson, but the house seems empty without him here. I think I'll go to bed and read Anna Karenina.

The New Garden

2011-05-24T11:58:00.000-07:00

This is the first time I've grown this lettuce

or these scallions

or asparagus,

2011-05-23T14:53:00.000-07:00

I finally found my first sassafras photo. I had to wrestle it out of my computer since flickr somehow made it disappear. I finally found it as one of my profile photos on Goodreads. If you're a reader and you've never checked out Goodreads, you're really missing out. Not only is it a good way to keep a list of books that you've read and books that you want to read, but it's also a great way to meet other people who love reading. I've met some interesting people w/o hardly even trying.

It's Monday , again. and again, and again...

2011-05-23T09:05:00.000-07:00

Dad is home from the hospital now with hospice arranged. There won't be any more radiation treatments, since he's had the maximum, or blood thinners since the Avastin has compromised his vascular system. My sister, Teresa is home from CA to help. She'll be here through Thursday, then I have time off over Memorial Day. I toyed with the idea of going up to the lake today, but Teresa said they were doing fine and Dad was just sleeping around the clock. It's a good thing I decided to come to work instead of sitting with my dying father because once again the boss called in sick on Monday!

2011-05-20T07:43:00.000-07:00

I needed a laugh and found this on Glider Rider's blog. It made me smile, I don't think I can work up a laugh right now.

Although I must say that picking up my freshly serviced bike with new tires, brakes, and the 50,0000 routine, really lightened my mood. I don't really have any time to ride, or anywhere to go right now, but it's just nice to know that it's parked outside the door, ready to go. It lifts my spirits to think about the nice stretch of days off over Memorial Day. Memorial Day is always tough for me, remembering Mark's death and then Mary's. I dreamed of Mark last night. I only remember a fragment of the dream, he was getting into the passenger side of the car (that was strange in itself, Mark hated riding as a passenger). He didn't say anything to me, only looked at me. He was dressed in his work coat and clothes. He was young and handsome, and he held my eyes and seemed to be warning me about being careful driving the car.

Tough weekend

2011-05-16T12:42:00.000-07:00

We hauled Dad back from the brink again. He's had a bad cough that started a couple of weeks ago, then Carol called and said Mom was really worried. He'd been up all night coughing, had completely lost the desire to eat, and his leg was swollen and painful. When I got up there Friday, they'd made an appt. to see the GP. We were afraid it was pneumonia, but it turned out to be even worse. The Dr. ordered a scan of his leg and found a blood clot from ankle to groin. Blood clots are one of the side effects from the drug, Avastin, and when they investigated further, they found a blood clot in each lung as well. The started administering heparin and coumadin intravenously, and he's responding, but will be in the hospital for at least 2-3 more days. I've been afraid to make the phone call each morning to check with his nurse. When I called before leaving for work, they transferred me to his room and I got to talk to him for a few minutes. I felt guilty for waking him, he dozes off at the drop of a hat, but hasn't had any sustained sleep for a couple of weeks. He filled me in on the list of visitors he had after I left, and I was glad to hear that his friends are showing their concern. He's improving, but he's not out of danger yet.

Meanwhile, my youngest progeny called needing a ride home from Indy, so Chocolate Eyes once again saved the day by driving to fetch him. Chrish hasn't seen his truck since the night they hit the deer. He's still hoping that it can be repaired, but I think it's a goner. The core frame is bent back, the radiator is probably leaking, and the fan is pushed back almost into the motor. The left headlight frame will need to be replaced, along with the headlight itself, and I'm leery of him driving a vehicle that has a compromised frame. I'm hoping he'll decide to total it out and take it to salvage. I know it'll be tough finding another dependable vehicle cheaply, but I hope that's what he decides.

Henry Lotz, third mayor of Fort Wayne, IN

2011-05-11T09:18:00.000-07:00

A patron came in today searching for information and a portrait of Henry Lotz. In case you also said, "Who?", Henry Lotz was the third mayor of Fort Wayne, IN. He was a contractor responsible for building the aqueduct across the St. Mary's river, but his term in public office was very short. He was elected as mayor in 1843 and resigned in June of 1844. I diligently searched every volume of Allen County history housed in our library, but didn't find this brief entry in The pictorial history of Fort Wayne, Indiana : a review of two centuries of occupation of the region about the head of the Maumee River / by B. J. Griswold, until after the patron had left. Thanks to the Internet Archive, anyone can read this text from the convenience of their own computer, but if it took me this long to find this infinitesimal bit of information, it's not an appropriate assignment for a third grader.

2011-05-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

It was a chaotic Mother's Day. We'd planned to go to the lake, but Dad didn't feel well enough to have company. Chrish and Molly were home, and Ben was supposed to get home in the afternoon. Those young pups slept right through breakfast time, so I made us a nice grilled chicken salad, then took off for Hydes to deliver lunch to J. The boys spent that time digging out some sod where I'm planting some step-able ground cover. When I got to Hydes, I called home to see what the boys' plans were and where we were going to meet Carol and her family for dinner. Chrish said Carol called, that Dad was really sick and Mom was freaking out, so they were canceling the dinner plans and heading up there. So, I raced home to give Mom a call. She said Dad had a cold with a lot of congestion and that he just wasn't feeling well, but she sounded calm and as though they were managing just fine. That was a reprieve for my jangly nerves so I told the boys I'd like to go buy some more mulch for the yard and look at the plants. When we got back, we sat out in the sun on the back deck and played Buzzword which was a lot of fun. Then J got home from Hydes and we decided to eat at the Munchie. I knew it would please Ben to sample from their microbrewery. As a last bow to tradition, we stopped at Zesto's on the way back home, and Chrish and Molly headed back to Indy from there. I was just settling in at home, looking forward to a few minutes of reading The Paper Garden, when the phone rang. It was Molly, she said,"I just want to let you know that we're on the side of the road on 69, that we hit a deer, but we're OK." I told her I would be right there to pick them up. When I got there, the police officer was still writing up the report. The truck in front of Chrish hit the first of three deer and Chrish got the last one. It took out the other driver's windshield completely. I don't know how he escaped being injured. Chrish's truck was missing the left headlight and it looked like his radiator was cracked. Kelly Wrecker was johnny on the spot to pick up the other vehicle and was big enough to carry two, so we decided to have his truck hauled home, and Ben would drive Molly and Chrish down to Indy since Molly had to get to work. I was groaning about how long we would have to stay awake waiting for the tow truck to arrive when we pulled up in front of the house to find a cop standing behind J's car with his flashlight trained on the license plate. A drunk driver had made it half way down the block and then rammed into the back of J's car. The back tire was flat, along with the scraped left rear quarter panel, and the very real possibility that the back wheel was broken, or the rear axle bent. J talked to the police officer, while I sat on the porch and reflected on how crappily the day had ended. Then the tow truck arrived, but missed our driveway and proceeded to drop Chrish's truck halfway down the block for the tidy sum of $133. J had to back it up our one-way street to park it in the driveway. I think for Mother's Day next year, I'm going to ask that everyone just stay home safe.

Just leave the key

2011-05-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

I just stepped off my bike and was retrieving my purse from the saddlebag, when I noticed the elderly lady who was getting into the car beside me. I thought she was talking to her companion, but then I saw her looking right at me. I pulled my earbuds out and asked her what she'd said. So, she said it again, "Just leave the keys in it and leave it running." She wanted to take it for a spin. Then she told me she was 52, but finally admitted that actually it was 92, that she'd never ridden a motorcycle but she'd still like to. I shook her hand and told her it was never too late, and strolled into the restaurant with the biggest grin on my face. I hope I'm an old broad like that, still willing to talk to people, still mobile, and still with a child-like spirit.

I finally ditched the millstone

2011-04-29T09:11:00.000-07:00

I've been plagued with a FB troll, someone from my distant past who has widely disparate political attitudes from my own. As politely as possible I acknowledged our differences, but he continued to tramp all over my postings with his inarticulate diatribes, which offended J so much that he almost dropped me as his FB friend (his own partner!).

The end, for agribusiness dairy farmer plow- it- from- fence -to- fence Mark Assholder
(I admit taking liberties with the surname) came when he allowed his brand new wife to use his fb page to insult me and add disparaging remarks to his comments (Nice to meet you, too!).
I sent him the following msg.

Mark, You'll have to find someone else's fb page to troll. I wanted to be tolerant of your agribusiness and conservative republican attitudes, but having your brand new wife call me "stupid" and make disparaging remarks made me realize that I don't have to wear you like a hair shirt. Good luck to you and to your new wife. You so closely share the same attitudes and tolerances that I'm sure you'll be very happy together.

Then I un-friended him, There are many reasons it took so long for my resolve to build. For one, my parents share quite a few of those same conservative republican attitudes, so my skin is pretty thick, and it somehow seemed like disloyalty to my parents to be intolerant of him and his fb troll tramping ways. Then there's the excellent article, The Meming Of Life, posted by my friend, Jane.

So for a long time, I wore Mark Assholder like a hair shirt... until his brand new wife decided to insult me (as a form of introduction from the safety of his fb- apparently she doesn't have enough personality to have one of her own) and to wonder why her new hubby, Mark Assholder, would ever have dated me. Well, I refrained from giving her this news- It wasn't for long! I was very young, but it didn't take long to figure out that he'd been 2- timing me with Audrey Fisher. She and I mutually and publicly dumped him. Fastforward 35 years, either he's changed and doesn't deserve to have ancient history dredged up, or she'll get her just desserts-one or the other! ;->

I HATE gravel!

2011-04-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

I took a little ride this weekend. I've almost felt too guilty to take the bike out just for the pure joy of it. It's starting to seem like a crime against the earth, and all humanity to frivolously waste gas for a joy ride, but if there's a quest such as the one I had, to track down live starts of Jersey Supreme asparagus at the Amish greenhouse...Well, then that's a different matter. I was clipping along at 70 mph on 37, but missed my turn because some loco farmer boy was right on my tail with his pick-me-up with attached trailer filled with farm equipment. My excuse for going so fast was to open up a gap to enable me to make a left hand turn, but he just stayed right on my tail. So, I decided to double back from Harlan, and then proceeded to get magnificently lost on the country roads. I started down Cuba for the second time and then followed it around to the Art Farm to stop and see Lisa and Paul and to get directions right from the horses mouth. The road to their house deteriorates to gravel, then dirt, then a smattering of pavement, back to gravel again. Did I mention that I hate gravel? When I left I was glad to hear that the way to the greenhouse from their house required a shorter distance be traveled on gravel, but Lisa also let me know that it had been freshly graveled. Did I mention that I hate gravel? I was in 2nd gear, just holding on and sweating, trying to sit as skinny as possible, and it was truly one of the worst times on my bike ever. It was nearly as bad as the time I dropped the bike on the giant gravel at the Potholes. Did I mention that I hate gravel?! Well, I finally made it to the Amish greenhouse, but when I arrived found a long driveway, freshly graveled! Aaaarrrrrrrgh! I whipped the bike around and parked on the edge of the road. Enough was enough with the gravel! and promptly slid ditch-wise in the mud. I left a nice 4-5 " rut getting back up on the road. That must be why they need so much dang gravel! I got some lovely Jersey asparagus, plus a couple of clematis vines for the side of the house and headed for home feeling pretty good that I managed to keep the shiny side up. The asparagus is all planted and was watered all night by the never-ending rain, which made my narcissus extra pretty this morning.

2011-04-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

I wish I could go to Indy to show support for Planned Parenthood and protest the signing of HB 1210. I understand that people have strong personal moral convictions about abortion, and that's exactly the point- It is personal! What business does government have in regulating the personal sex lives and decisions of women of childbearing age?! I don't understand how anyone can see this law as anything other than another way to disenfranchise the poor, with women serving as the primary target. And hey! What about all those vasectomies performed by Planned Parenthood? Each ejaculate contains 200-500 million sperm. Maybe men who've had vasectomies should be forced into having those vasectomies reversed, since their action in effect murdered so many potential innocent lives.

2011-04-21T13:31:00.000-07:00

It may not be complimentary,
but this is true;
every time I flush the toilet,
I think of you.

I said this to J after he repaired my toilet tank flush problem. It sounds as though it could be an insult, but I sincerely meant it as a compliment.

2011-04-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

Why is it that every time I even think about riding the bike up to see Mom and Dad, it starts raining?! I'm glad I went even though Dad was pretty low. He has two more weeks of radiation and chemo and was told that he'll recover some energy when the treatments end in two weeks. Despite how sick he is, he still works so hard. He and a couple of his friends loaded up three felled trees and hauled them to his property to be split and stacked. The wood furnace saves Mom and Dad a bundle on heating costs, and to date they haven't had to pay for any wood. Instead they offer to cut up and haul away felled trees. They're also trying some other things to make their homestead more economical. Apparently great minds think alike. While J and I have been busy putting in a new raised bed garden in the backyard, Mom and Dad were busy tilling up their own small garden patch.Last year they tilled a small garden plot that ran alongside their storage barn (located down the road), but the neighbors started helping themselves to the produce. (The nerve!) Their house lot is so wooded that they didn't think they'd get enough sun to have a garden in the yard, but with food prices going nowhere but up, the only loss would be time if the garden isn't successful. I'm looking forward to hurrying home to get spinach and lettuce planted in our new bed that's just had a nice soaking rain. And then J's asked me to go see Elky Summers at the Museum of Art tonight. Wheee! I love date nights.

It's Friiiday!

2011-04-08T06:48:00.000-07:00

I'm in a good mood, despite the fact that the boss is already setting up her Monday off. How can I tell? From remarks like, "My back is just killing me. Whatever I did to my back, I really messed it up." Somehow I smell a Monday phone call coming up....sigh...

It can't even phase me. I'm looking forward to a weekend working with my baby putting together the frame for our new raised bed garden, with maybe a ride up to see Mom and Dad, weather permitting.

2011-03-24T12:35:00.000-07:00

I rode in the driveway and saw J standing on the porch. Looking at him must be the reason why I totally missed the surprise. When I got in the house, he grabbed a flashlight and told me to follow him.

TA-DA!

My handsome, talented, and competent man planted our baby tree and even carefully salvaged all the bulbs that were displaced in the process. He is so wonderful! Service is definitely one of his love languages.

It's Monday

2011-03-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

It's Monday, the boss called in sick, color me surprised! When she called in, she said she would be in at 5, but called back at 3 and said she wasn't coming in at all.

It was an eventful weekend, as soon as I got home from work J said let's go to Las Lomas for margaritas which were fantastic as usual, but may have contributed to the awful dream about my Dad that woke me at 3 AM. At a decent hour I called to ask if they were going to be home for a visit. I thought about riding the bike up, but after looking at the weather forecast, 40's and rain, I nixed that idea. Dad was supposed to have his first radiation treatment last week, but the appt. was only to fit him with a mask, the actual treatment will begin this week. We're all apprehensive about it, and it was a double whammy for Dad to learn that he has to have the infusions and radiation in tandem, he thought they were concurrent. I told Mom to call and I would go with them, but she doesn't think it's necessary yet. Dad is still getting around under his own steam. While I was there I tried to talk him into going for a walk, but he'd rather work in the yard or split wood for his exercise. He's told me that he's getting short of breath and energy, but who wouldn't be slowing down after so many infusions of chemo. We had a nice visit, but I missed my usual leisurely Sunday lunch at Hyde's with J.

2011-03-13T12:18:00.000-07:00

Well, my little gad-about spring break man-child is on his way to Florida again. I certainly don't begrudge him the experience, the leisure, the good memories he's in the process of making, but I wish that boy would keep me informed sooner than after the fact! This week he's driven me crazy with changing his plans, without informing me, then changing them again, without informing me, and now he's not coming home at all. Instead he has his own life to live in the arms of his sweetie, Molly. I hope they have a great time, but I reminded him of Aesop's Boy Who Cried Wolf and not to expect any preparations the next time he makes noises about coming home. I'll believe him when I see him. I 've served my stint as a stationary home base for a long time and no one is going to force me back into that role again. It's not that I'm totally un-domestic and I have the first tray of a batch of pecan chocolate chip cookies in the oven right now to prove it!

I drove 200 miles to take part...

2011-03-10T11:32:00.000-08:00

A friend and I drove 200 mi. round trip to take part in the rally to support Planned Parenthood. I took a day off work to show my disgust with the sexist legislation that Republicans are trying to pass all across the country .There were a few hecklers vehemently opposed to Planned Parenthood, approx 10-20 as compared to the hundreds of women sporting pink buttons and signs provided by Planned Parenthood. Despite their low numbers, they didn't waste any time screaming , "Murderer! Baby Killer!" in our faces. In one of the photos you can see the hecklers at the demonstration carrying enormous glossy photographs of fetal remains. I thought it was rather telling when I asked one of the few female hecklers who supplied their signs, she said she didn't know. Hmmm.... I wish I'd gotten a picture of the signs up close, because there was definitely a organization logo at the bottom. The same woman who didn't know who supplied the signs also said she was unable to have children, that she'd tried to adopt, but didn't have enough money. She said that she knew a family who had seven children, lived on 20K a year, and despite their poverty the children were fed, clothed, and clean. She claimed that women have abortions because they are selfish. I'm betting that the family with seven children will not see any of their offspring attend college, unless of course it's at the expense of the taxpayer. Although the hecklers were few in number, they were certainly loud and verbally abusive. The screams of murderer and baby killer that continued throughout the PPIN speakers were disconcerting, but it didn't slow down any of these determined women. At one point, during the speech, one of the hecklers tried to muscle his way by shoving through the crowd to get to the steps just below the podium, but the attendees formed a human wall blocking him. The pushing and shoving was stopped by a state police officer moving the hecklers to the rear again. The hecklers gave the impression of being professionals with some big money backing, they came supplied with bullhorns and the five foot tall glossy photographs of dead fetuses (from some unknown or at least UNNAMED benefactor). Although the experience was emotionally exhausting , I'm glad I went and my attitude remains firm. If you don't believe in abortion, don't have one! They are legal, and the woman who is pregnant is entitled to make decisions about her own body. If you're a woman still of childbearing age, I hope you're paying attention to the fact that the Republican party is determined to move you back into the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant whether that's where you want to be or not!

Something really creepy and cowardly...

2011-03-07T15:38:00.000-08:00

Something really creepy is going on at work. I mean, besides the normal boss called in sick on Monday again routine. One of our regular patrons came in and talked to Joyce about a letter he'd received in the mail in November. He said it was an un-signed note telling him he needed to stop talking to the staff at the branch and was annoying us by doing so, and keeping us from our work. Hmmmm.... who does that sound like it could be? The note upset him so much that he threw it away and didn't bring it up until now. Then he asked Joyce if she were the author of the note, which upset her so much that she started nonchalantly asking staff their opinion of the patron. Apparently she was attempting to sleuth out the culprit. After some discussion, it was generally agreed that this particular patron was a good egg, and now we're all trying to figure out who would do such a creepy thing. I said that IF we were going to send notes to the top 100 annoying patrons, this particular patron wouldn't even come close to making the list, but because we're people of character we don't send anonymous notes to patrons who annoy us. I'd sure like to know who's playing this sick psychologically sadistic game in our name.

2011-02-28T17:41:00.000-08:00

It was a strange weekend, I didn't notice the fb msg. until yesterday saying my nephew, Luke, was hit by a truck Thursday, while snow-blowing their driveway. He'd come to the end of the driveway, looked both ways and stepped out to turn the machine around. The truck coming over the rise couldn't stop, it took out the mailbox and Luke, and then slid another quarter mi.down the road. When his brother Zach found him, he was seizing and made a mess of his tongue. The ambulance took him to Parkview and thankfully the mri didn't show any brain damage. His left leg won't bear any weight, and there's been some sort of damage to his knee still to be determined with further x-rays. Luke's experiences have run the gamut for stress this week. He was one of the ten finalists selected from Steuben County to interview for a Lily Foundation scholarship. His interview was Tuesday and by Thursday afternoon he was lying in a hospital bed in Parkview.

The news cast a pall on our weekend celebration of J's birthday. I bought tickets to see Governor Davis at the Philmore on Broadway. The printout from the ticket sale said tickets could be picked up an hour before the show starting at 6, so we decided to walk down. When we arrived we found the doors still locked, but J saw Carol Lockridge and we chatted with her for a few minutes before sneaking in the side doors. J asked me to show the wait staff our tickets and ask if we could wait inside. The staff deferred to some little brunette woman wearing stiletto heeled boots, and she icily told us the doors didn't open until 7:30. I think she must have been so rude due to those stilettos drilling right into her brain. No one can wear stupid heels like that without great pain. A couple of times I mentioned that we'd walked and how cold it was outside, but the atmosphere inside was just as frosty. J and I headed out the door to friendlier climes at the Munchie to sit and drink a glass of wine with Kelly, one of our favorite bartenders and belly dancer extraordinaire. We headed back and arrived before the 7:30 door opening time, to find that the doors were already open. When we walked in, we were pleased to find a lovely table right up front. The decor was luxurious with lots of interesting art on the walls, and we took a stroll up to the balcony level to find another bar and tables with a great view of the stage, but claustraphobically low ceiling. When we returned to our table the waitress was efficiently taking orders as the band was still setting up, but she neglected to tell us that we were sitting at a reserved table until the show finally started at 9. We were graciously moved to a table further back and I was still adjusting to that new reality while we looked around the room at the crowd. We were definitely some of the youngest in the audience and probably the poorest . We agreed that Governor Davis had modified his song list for the white affluent audience, including more show tunes and less real blues. We drank wine, ate flatbread pizza, and then tipsily walked home. We had a really good time, but I don't think we'll be going back. The atmosphere was lovely if less than friendly, the food was mediocre, and the ticket price was high. We agreed that the laid-back casual atmosphere at Calhoun Soup Salads and Spirits Tiger Room was more to our liking.

2011-02-28T14:55:00.000-08:00

I woke up in a very chilly house, took a shower and got ready for work, but something was making me uneasy. When J said something about the furnace, it hit me that I hadn't heard the furnace kick on. The new thermostat showed that the house was 60, but the temp was set to 68. Uh-oh! I let my inner ya-ya's out for a while with stomping and cussing included and then J and I set to work to look at the furnace and figure out what its major malfunction was. J pulled off the cover, while it was blowing, so I knew it was getting current-OK, checked the fuse on the furnace- OK, nothing looked clogged, decrepit, rusted out, but there was no fire in its belly. So, it was a problem with the ignition. I admit to being an IFO (irresponsible furnace owner). I haven't had it serviced since I moved into the house ten years ago. I have had the cover off and used the shop vac to clean out all the spider webs and dust, and I've thrown a new hypoallergenic filter down its maw twice a heating season, but beyond that I admit to certain laissez faire concerning maintenance. J noticed a service tag and suggested I call G Townsend Heating and Cooling since they'd already worked on it. I was disappointed to find only a voice mail msg. but relieved to find they were still in business. The sticker was at least 10 years old. I decided the best thing to do while I was waiting was to bake a Swedish pie . I'd just gotten started when the phone rang and Mr. Townsend said he would be able to make it there by 8:30. When he arrived I filled him in on the details and he got to work. It didn't take long for him to pinpoint the problem. The ceramic igniter was broken. The part cost $45 and the although the service charge was more than I'd hoped, it wasn't more than expected. While he was there Mr. Townsend was friendly without being nosy, very professional, tidy, and quick, all the attributes I admire in a repair person. So, thanks to Mr. Townsend for warming the cockles of my furnace.

2011-02-21T16:41:00.000-08:00

I'm watching closely to see what's happening to my fellow public employees in Wisconsin and Ohio. I hope before the Republicans pass their legislation , they take a little time to consider the real consequences of their own actions. Take a moment to consider the things that unions have won for all of us; the weekend, the eight hour day, the 40 hour week, paid vacation time, worker's compensation, safety regulations, and I'm sure I've forgotten some others... Now take a moment to consider a world where those hard fought accomplishments are gradually whittled away. Madison Wisconsin isn't anything like Egypt. Egyptians have been living in abject poverty for years. It sickened me to hear how little the Egyptian police officers were paid, so little that they all ran their own little security services (protection rackets) to get enough money to feed their families. The majority of the Egyptian people have lived in abject poverty, so to compare them to public employees from Wisconsin who are only now beginning to feel the pinch is inflammatory journalism and insulting to the Egyptian people. What's happening in Wisconsin is more insidious. Some people claim that the budget crisis is exaggerated if not outright manufactured. If you take a moment to read the Wisconsin State Legislative Fiscal Bureau's report, dated January 31, 2011, you'll discover a dearth of the word crisis, but you will see projected shortages. Armed with this information the new Governor of Wisconsin opted to spend 140 million more over the next two years in corporate incentive tax breaks to lure new industry into the state. I have read several comments that Governor's Walkers actions are needed to help small businesses in Wisconsin. There are no small businesses that are going to be helped by Governor Walker's actions. His goal is to lure new business to the state with sweet deal tax packages. Frequently these tactics have resulted in corporations moving in, taking advantage of the tax deals and then moving on to locales with greener pastures. The brand new fresh faced Governor Walker is trying to save his state by finding new corporate buddies. Hopefully that new friendship will last longer than it takes for the ink to dry on the sweet new tax deals, but I wouldn't count on it. Corporations have been given the same rights as individuals to make donations to political parties or candidates, but corporations are not individuals. Corporations have no loyalty, no soul, no humanity, they are there solely to grow and increase profits, and to protect the people behind the incorporation. The public employees of Wisconsin have acknowledged the need to take wage cuts, but still the Governor is unwilling to discuss retaining their collective bargaining rights, which leads me to believe that this is ALL about busting collective bargaining. When the dust settles, I wonder... will there still be a sanitation worker there to sweep it up and haul it away?

2011-02-17T08:54:00.000-08:00

The boss went home sick yesterday morning, but was recovered enough this morning to attend the managers' meeting with her peers. As soon as the meeting was over, she was so sick that she couldn't work the rest of the day.

Blues

2011-02-14T06:07:00.000-08:00

J called from work at Hyde's and said Julia had tickets for the Blues and Soul Food Bash showcasing Nick Moss. Did I want to go? It was a great show and had me dancing in my seat. Nick's wife played bass for a couple of the songs and according to this Reader article, her abilities have enhanced his success. I'm always fascinated by married couples who successfully work together. Although we did get there too late for the food, we did get to sample some of the sweet potato pie and peach cobbler. The only thing lacking was a dance floor and a pool table. I do so miss the Hot Spot and listening to G Money on Monday nights. So, thanks to Julia's generosity we had some great Valentine's Day blues. Thank you Julia!

Story therapy

2011-02-01T06:27:00.000-08:00

Useless Work

An old monk and a young monk were walking along the road when they came to a rushing stream. It was neither too wide nor too deep and they were about to wade across when a beautiful young woman, who had been waiting on the bank, approached them. She was elegantly dressed and she fluttered her fan and batted her eyelashes, smiling at them with big eyes.

“Oh, she said, “the current is so swift, the water is so cold, and if my kimono gets wet, it will spoil the silk. Won’t one of you please carry me across the stream?” And she edged invitingly towards the young monk.

Now the young monk thought the woman’s behavior was disgusting. He thought she was spoiled and shameless and ought to be taught a lesson. On top of that, monks are not supposed to have anything to do with women. So he ignored her completely and waded across the stream. But the old monk gave a shrug, picked up the young woman, carried her across the water and set her down on the other side. Then the two monks continued on their way down the road.

Though they walked in silence, the young monk was furious. He thought his companion had done entirely the wrong thing by indulging that spoiled young woman. And even worse, by touching her he had broken the monks’ rule. He raved and ranted in his mind as they walked over hills and through fields. Finally, he could stand it no longer. Shouting loudly, he began scolding his companion for carrying the woman across the stream. He was beside himself with anger and completely red in the face.

“Oh, dear,” said the old monk. “Are you still carrying that woman?” I put her down an hour ago.” He gave a shrug and continued down the road.

From The Wisdom of the Crows and Other Buddhist Tales

2011-01-31T16:32:00.000-08:00

I have been an extreme lazy butt this winter and have neglected my winter stomps. Yesterday the temps were finally above freezing and there were no more excuses. I went out to see my tree at Bicentennial Woods. It's still there and the staghorns that give it such personality are hanging tough. There wasn't much to see in the woods, but that was OK. It was enough just to be out burning off some calories and breathing in all that fresh cold oxygen. I loved the sun coming through the trees, it looked like winter lace.

2011-01-21T07:02:00.000-08:00

After reading this distressing news and thinking that if this happened that I might as well crawl off and die somewhere. I needed to think about something a little more positive so I'm posting this youtube video that a friend of my son's posted on fb.The song is great too,' I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love'-that's great stuff!

Pride goeth before destruction...

2011-01-18T09:26:00.000-08:00

but I have to brag on my boys anyway. They both made Dean's list this semester! Chrish even got a fancy little certificate in the mail. But enough about the brilliant, handsome, and responsible young men I've raised. When I was downloading the picture of the certificate to share with Chrish on fb, I found this picture. This is my brave little Christmas tree. For the second year I've bought a live tree to plant for my Christmas tree. It cost about $30, it might have been $34, and I'm sorry to say that many years I've spent much more for cut trees. I bought it at Koontz Tree Farm on Huguenard, which is a small family owned operation. I've gone there for 4 or 5 years and they are nice people. The tree can only be in the house for about a week and then needs to be gradually reintroduced to the cold (via the garage) and the base needs to be protected by mulch or leaves or straw. Last year's tree went to my sister who lives out in the country. She planted it in a row of pines for a windbreak. But this one is different. This tree, I'm keeping. I'm planting it right smack dab in the middle of the front yard in place of the flagpole that's there. When I was a kid, Dad took us out in the woods and dug up some saplings to plant in our yard, a couple of Pin Oaks. We already had a Cherry and an Apple. Then my Dad started planting pines. I think he got a little carried away and planted them too close, but he nursed them along with plant food, and a couple of them are still there, 45 years later. Holy Cow! I'm old. Anyway, I really enjoyed the tree this year. I was off work for a stretch over Christmas and it was a wonderful relaxing time (except for all the cooking and dishwashing) and I really loved anticipating bringing the tree in, and enjoyed seeing it in the house decorated. Since it is a smaller tree I went through all the decorations and selected the nicer smaller ones and the boys decorated it for me. I don't know why I didn't take a picture of it, they did a great job. Ben even painstakingly went through the light strings and replaced bulbs to get enough lights.Despite its diminutive size, it had a beautiful shape and made me feel a little larger and greener. I like thinking that this tree I plant may very well outlive me, and I hope Dad is complimented that his tradition of tree planting is being carried on.

Mondayitis strikes again!

2011-01-17T15:19:00.000-08:00

The boss has always said she was allergic to perfume, in fact, she said she was specifically allergic to the three or four different perfumes that I've worn over the years. She finally told me that I was no longer allowed to wear perfume because of her allergies. At first I resented it, but now I'm only amused and just keep repeating my mantra, only four more years... only four more years....

Well, a couple of weeks ago the boss finally went to an allergist, and just take a wild guess at what she's really allergic to?

CATS!

That might explain why she's always sick on Mondays since she had three cats at home. Had? you ask? Yes, she had three cats, but now she has FOUR! That's right, the woman who just found out that she's allergic to cats and has consistently used every minute of her sick time, just acquired another cat. After she added the fourth cat she did manage to make it to work for the next three Mondays in a row, but alas, she's sick again, on Monday, of course! Adding to my torment is the low battery beep from the door alarm beside her work station. AAAAaaarrrrgh...............only four more years.... only four more years......

I saw this on Postsecret

2011-01-10T15:18:00.000-08:00

I saw this postcard on PostSecret and it reminded me of a recurring conversation I've had with J. He's such a distinctive looking and handsome man that I feel that if I'd encountered him in public, I would definitely have noticed him. Then I found out that he used to work at the local Borders during the time I was a regular there. How is it possible that I saw him without noticing him?! I've always been impressed with the variety of folks that Borders hires, including the tattooed, the pierced, young, old, etc...but I don't remember seeing him there! Then I found out that he was at a mutual friend's house when they were having a local artist showcase party that I attended. How could I possibly have missed him?! Irregardless, I'm glad that our paths crossed again. It's been more than two years ago that I was at Hyde Bros. on my Friday off, to trade some books I'd read for new ones. I'd just finished reading the Alphabet Vs. the Goddess by Leonard Shlain and I was trading Sex, Time, and Power: How Women's Sexuality Shaped Human Evolution which I found to be disappointingly redundant. When J saw that title with my trade-ins, he sought me out to ask about it. He was taking a women's studies class and wanted to know if the book was worth his time. I was sorry to have to tell him that I hadn't even finished it since it covered the same material as the Alphabet Vs. the Goddess which was fascinating. I can still remember how hard my heart was beating, that this cool looking dark eyed guy with the lovely man hips had noticed and then talked to me. I was so nervous that I was afraid I sounded like a goof, but he just smiled and went back to his work. Then I watched him the rest of the time I was there. When he talked to people, he looked directly into their eyes, and listened intently. There was none of the brusque, "Next!" attitude as he waited on customers and I remember thinking that his eyes looked infinitely kind. Coincidentally, the next night I was out at my favorite watering hole pounding down some Butter Crowns. Normally one or two drinks are my limit, but on this particular evening I'd already had 4 or 5 and was feeling pretty loopy. Then Julia walked in with her husband. Julia's worked at Hyde Bros. for just about as long as I've been going there, and I've always been a little afraid of her, she's wickedly intelligent and somewhat stern. I remember consciously telling myself that I needed to present myself as being much less intoxicated than I was. I introduced myself as a Hyde's customer and asked her about the good looking new employee with the distinctive dark eyes. She said, "Oh! You must be talking about J!" Then she asked me my age, which I thought was an odd question. When I told her, and then casually dropped into the conversation that I was on my bike and needed to head home, she said, "You're a biker too?! Oh! J is going to love you!" She seemed pleased to be playing matchmaker, but I really didn't hold much hope of anything coming of it. I gave her my phone number to pass along to J and then tried to walk out in a straight line while I still had my dignity.

He called me two days later and we planned to meet at Henry's for our first date, which almost didn't happen because of the horrendous ice storm that paralyzed Fort Wayne for days. That was more than two years ago and I am so in love with that man. I don't know if we'll be together forever, but I'm just happy for the NOW!

Excellent News!

2011-01-06T09:44:00.000-08:00

I just received this msg. from my sister, Carol.

Julie: left you a message on the home phone. I didn't want to bother you at work. Mom called...they got excellent news! The tumors have shrunk dramatically. The large one on the side of his head is almost completely gone. So, he will return home and continue the infusions and then has to go back to Duke in 8 weeks. No complaints about the return trip now since it is working! Hope all is well.
Love,Carol

I knew that 2011 was going to be better, this is a start in the right direction!!!!

Yuletide

2010-12-22T16:28:00.000-08:00

J and I celebrated Winter Solstice at Tim's. After Tim used the Athame to lay out the Magic Circle, he blessed and purified the exterior walls of the house for the coming year and thanked his beautiful old home for the shelter it's given. The west door and window were opened while I read this Scottish verse

Yule

Sing reign of fair maid,
With gold upon her toe…
Open you the West Door,
And turn the Old Year go.

---Scottish Yule Song

The symbols of yuletide are the colors red, green, and white, spinning wheels, holly, and wreaths.

Tim's house was lit solely by candlelight and antique kerosene lamps, beautiful glass beauties with delicately fragile chimneys. The one that really fascinated me was this beauty, a spinning wheel of stars. Tim made the whirling vaned topper from a coffee can and not only did it function perfectly, but it was also a thing of beauty.

. Tim and J enacted the battle between the Holly King (waning year) and the Oak King ( new year).

Then I gave the blessing with the consecrated water of life anointing their feet as a virgin that they would find the right path in the new year, their groin as a maid, that their endeavors be fruitful, and their head as a crone that they might have wisdom for the new year. We finished the ceremony by blessing the Goddess Morrigan and the eastern star and inserting the Athame into the chalice, both ends, the blade to kill off the old year, the hilt for pleasure in the new. I must say I certainly don't mind symbolically killing off this year. It's been a tough one for me.

Julian Assange and WikiLeaks

2010-11-30T16:51:00.000-08:00

There's some really interesting developments in the WikiLeaks situation. Julian Assange is promising in a recent Forbes article that the next target for a very embarrassing leak of their own incriminating documents is a large U. S. bank- he says think Enron. I'm wondering if this is in reaction to the American response to his recent release of classified government documents. Mike Huckabee thinks he should be tried for treason and hanged. Ummmm, Assange isn't a citizen of the US, so I'm pretty sure he can't be charged with treason. The man is definitely interesting, the Christian Science Monitor describes him as a new age Tom Sawyer who didn't have much in the way of a formal childhood education and moved 37 times before the age of 14! The people who have tried to pigeonhole his motives have been frustrated, is he just a hacker?, a whistle blower with a political agenda? I'm reserving judgement waiting for further developments. I do admire his goal of putting a a "reputational tax on unethical companies"! and that goal is sure to be more acceptable to the American masses than exposing sensitive diplomatic information.
It makes for very interesting news and takes my mind off my own spin cycle of problems.

And it just keeps getting stranger.

2010-11-29T16:27:00.000-08:00

These are pictures of my Uncle Bill, husband of my late Aunt Leah of the "squeezy hugs". These pictures were taken when he was only 19 years old during the occupation in Japan, 1946. As a child I was always leery of my Uncle Bill. His temper had a short fuse and he liked to keep his own children in line with liberal use of a fly swatter. He's mellowed considerably since then, and is now everyone's favorite Grandpa.

Listening

2010-11-27T13:00:00.000-08:00

I've been told that I'm not a very good listener, as a matter of fact I've been told that on more than one occasion, so I'm starting to believe that it's true. I know all the attributes and rules for being a good listener, but admit that I don't always follow them. I have an awful habit of interrupting. So, if you're talking to me and I suddenly clamp my hand over my mouth, don't worry I'm not going to hurl on you, I'm only training myself to stop interrupting. I was doing this for awhile and it was pretty effective, but as soon as I stopped my bad habit resumed.

My mind also wanders off like a willful two year old and sometimes I'm too embarrassed to admit that I just missed the last five minutes of our conversation because of inattentiveness. If I look directly in the speaker's eyes while they're talking, it helps me stay on track, but those direct gazes are unnerving for some, some might even call it staring, which of course is just another bad habit, sigh...

http://www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Good-Listener

2010-11-26T06:54:00.001-08:00

Well, at least when you're at the bottom, the only place to go is up.

Water Bearer and the Pots

2010-11-23T06:19:00.000-08:00

I found this story a few years ago when I was googling around looking for material for storytelling. I didn't use it at that time, but the story stuck with me and has even more significance when reading it now. I am a slightly cracked pot and I see all the children who I've interacted with over the last 25 years of children's programming as beautiful flowers.

Once Upon a Time… A water bearer in China had two large pots,

each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. Once of the pots had a crack in it. The other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots of water to his house.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and was miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what was perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.”

The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace my home.”

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You’ve got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

2010-11-19T03:52:00.000-08:00

J and I have lived together for a little over a year, but were inseparable for the year prior. He told me last night that he's going to start pursuing an online two year archivist degree so that his employment opportunities are widened. He doesn't know where he'll need to go after that to get a job. He's always wanted to move up to Michigan and since his daughter and son-in-law and soon to be new grandson will be there, I'm guessing that he'll start looking in that direction. And what about myself, you might ask. Where will I be in two years? I'm guessing that my early government retirement that protrudes from my forehead like the proverbial carrot on the stick is suddenly going to start lengthening like Pinocchio's nose. I don't know that for a fact, but all the talk of reducing government employees by 10%, raising the age of retirement for social security, reducing the federal deficit by reducing benefits for the people who really need them, doesn't bode well for me. But that's not even the real issue here. After two years of living together, J is looking forward to the beginning of a new life apparently without much regret over leaving me behind. I'm sorry I pressured him for an answer. I think I would have rather lived in blissful ignorance. So, I guess it's my call from here. I can try to live with the anvil lying on my chest or I can fold. Realistically we're both in survival mode, but I thought we were going to go there as a team.

Can you tell I'm pissy?

Danisha

2010-11-16T12:48:00.000-08:00

Danisha is a beautiful young lady who comes in to see me at work. We've had time to get acquainted since her mother spends 4-5 hours at a time on the computer. Danisha always makes a bee-line for my desk and asks for a computer for game playing. She's quite an intelligent and well mannered young lady, but I became concerned about her when I noticed that she was coming in during school hours. When I asked her if she was in school, she said she was in kindergarten and I immediately thought she must be in half day kindergarten. When she started coming in with more frequency and staying all day, I started asking her if she'd gone to school today. The answer is always the same, "No, my mother didn't sign me in." Her mother appears to be working on an online college degree, which is commendable, but not at the expense of her child's education. I did a little online research and found that kindergarten isn't required in the state of Indiana, but this little gem was dropped in at the end of the article:

Another area of confusion concerns the terms mandatory and required as pertaining to kindergarten attendance. Even though it is not mandatory that children attend kindergarten, once a child is enrolled in kindergarten, the child is required to adhere to all state statutes and local school board rules, including attendance guidelines.

http://www.doe.in.gov/primetime/kindergartenentrancelaw.html

My Polymath

2010-11-11T06:18:00.000-08:00

I live with a polymath. J helped me put on my new clutch cable. He was just going to observe while I did it, but I got to a certain spot and was stymied. Brian, the parts guy at Ehlerdings gave me some pointers; put the cable ball inside lever handle while handle is unfastened thread through all the guides, put lock washer on before inserting into bottom cable adjuster then add second threaded washer and hook up the cable at the bottom first, then slide lever handle into slot making sure groove for slipping the cable through is lined up. He told me to take note of the positioning of the lock washers on the old cable and start with them in same position, then adjust freeplay with the clutch lever. Some tips I read online said to insert a nickel into lever gap to get just the right amount of freeplay. The first time I started the bike and tried shifting, it didn't work. I was really discouraged and was ready to give it up for the night, but even though the clutch wasn't engaged, J's curiosity was. He kept fiddling and fiddling with it. He tried shifting the bottom adjuster to allow the clutch to fall back farther and the next time I started my bike, it shifted fine. It also took off with a lunge and almost put me through the gargage door. More fiddling ensued and this morning I leathered up and rode to work with a wonderful sense of accomplishment and pride in myself and my guy!

2010-11-10T11:52:00.000-08:00

Funny how the boss noticed I was 1-2 minutes late back from lunch, but didn't notice the 7-10 min. I had to sacrifice from my lunch to finish a card registration for a patron. If she's going to to lay in wait to pounce on 1-2 min. transgression, she might want to make sure of the facts first. Documentation is very important.

I called the bike shop and they've got my clutch cable. Hopefully I'll be able to get it on tonight and take advantage of the unseasonably warm temps for the next couple of days. Seeing all the other bikes on the road is tearing me up!!

Forest Bathing

2010-11-07T08:25:00.000-08:00

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/travel/forest-bathing-not-just-a-walk-in-the-woods/article1749722/

2010-11-07T08:07:00.000-08:00

Thank God for Medicaid and Medicare and the democratic presidents who started those federal government socialized medical programs.

Once a government is committed to the principle of silencing the voice of opposition, it has only one way to go, and that is down the path of increasingly repressive measures, until it becomes a source of terror to all its citizens and creates a country where everyone lives in fear.
Harry S Truman, August 8, 1950 33rd president of US (1884 - 1972)

I am concerned about the whole man. I am concerned about what the people, using their government as an instrument and a tool, can do toward building the whole man, which will mean a better society and a better world.
Lyndon B. Johnson

2010-11-07T07:52:00.000-08:00

let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears
while we all sup sorrow with the poor
there's a song that will linger forever in our ears
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song; a sigh of the weary
hard times; hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh; hard times come again no more

while we seek mirth and beauty
and music light and gay
there are frail ones fainting at the door
though their voices are silent
their pleading looks will say
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song; a sigh of the weary

hard times... hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave
'tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
'tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
oh, hard times come again no more

'tis a song; a sigh of the weary
hard times; hard times come again no more
many days you have lingered around my cabin door
oh, hard times come again no more
oh, hard times come again no more

Hurray! Hurray!

2010-11-05T12:13:00.001-07:00

Dad is finishing his first round of chemo. We'll be heading home soon. I am so looking forward to being home, to seeing J and my kitties, to sitting on my own furniture, maybe being able to relax enough to actually read a book, instead of just staring at the pages until I realize that my eyes are only passing over the words and nothing is sinking in. I want to listen to my own music in my own home. I'm not sure Carol is looking forward to going home as much, when she called home she found out that her little doggie, Wiggles, got skunked today. Her boys went to school still slightly skunked.

And the hits keep on comin'

2010-11-04T09:16:00.000-07:00

Dad isn't having surgery. They found another tumor on a MRI that was read the morning the surgery was scheduled. It is larger than the other two and located in the back of the brain. The surgeon, Dr Friedman said it was too far from the site of the original two tumors to remove doing this surgery. He recommended that the surgery be canceled and that we seek alternative treatments offered at the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center. They set up a consultation appointment for Friday so here we are, all four of us crammed into a one bedroom suite, with lots of time and no car. It's raining, but despite that I had to get out to walk off the incredible tension. If words were knives, the blood would be flowing. My sister, Carol and I haven't slept for the last three days. We have let fly some pretty ugly stuff and enduring these few days with Mom and Dad alternately angry and sobbing has been so hard. The ambiguity and waiting is the worst.

Worst News

2010-11-03T16:40:00.000-07:00

We had trouble getting to the hospital this morning. The shuttle was late, so when I inquired at the front desk, we were told the shuttle driver was stuck in traffic. When we explained that our father was scheduled for surgery and we needed to get there before he went into surgery, the motel called a taxi on their dime (actually $20 to travel 7 mi.) When we called en route, we were told that he had already been taken to pre-op. We thought we would barely get there before he was taken into surgery and he was very relieved to see us, but he had bad news to relay. Dr. Friedman had ordered a new MRI and the images showed a third larger tumor that was not seen in the original MRI done at Lutheran. Not only was the tumor larger, but it was also located in the back of the brain, too far from the original site to to be operable at the same time. After much difficult discussion Dr. Friedman advised that Dad not have the surgery because it wouldn't be as effective. Dr. Friedman made an appt. with the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center for a consultation about alternative treatments. We weren't able to get the appt. until Friday, but need to go back to the hospital to have another MRI done, this time a contrast test. I've tried to convince my parents to keep an open mind about the alternative options, but I think they may be at their limit. Mom is exhausted from periodic crying jags, but Dad vacillates between stoic acceptance and anger. This has been one of the hardest things I've ever faced, made more difficult by three nights in a row of insomnia. Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully we'll all sleep tonight so we're better able to face it.

Buzz Saw

2010-11-01T19:04:00.000-07:00

Well, we're in beautiful Durham, NC and tomorrow Dad will be admitted to Duke. That is if we survive his buzz saw tonight, which is what we affectionately call his snoring. Jack, my brother in law drove us down here and then headed back home early this morning to take care of their boys. So, we're dependent on the shuttle to carry us back and forth to Duke. Since we came down a day early we thought we would take a bus downtown and do a little sightseeing, but after standing at the bus stop for 20 min. past the time it was supposed to show and learning that Durham just switched their whole public bus system our enthusiasm waned and we headed back to the motel to sit in the sunny courtyard and talk. Dad is a man of few words, but as would anyone he's having some apprehension about the upcoming surgery.He's also having recurrence of some of his symptoms. It's distressing to watch his frustration while he searches for words and struggles to decipher words as he reads. While Mom and Dad napped, my sister, Carol and I headed out to stretch our legs a little. We found a charming garden shop called Witherspoon Rose Culture that sells roses exclusively. Most of the property was covered by rows and rows of roses still blooming profusely, and I could have kicked myself for leaving my camera back in my room. It was a real treat for two northern Indiana girls to see the color green, let alone all those beautiful roses in bloom. Most of the roses were identified with name tags and two of my favorites were called Pink Peace and Drop Dead Red.

Another new adventure

2010-10-30T07:21:00.000-07:00

It seemed like a normal morning, but when I took off out of the garage the clutch did something funny. I guessed it was because I was wearing gloves and just didn't release it smoothly enough, but at the end of the street, I pulled in the clutch to stop at the stop sign and it went click- limp. I let off the throttle and lugged to a stop towards the side of the road, but since there were cars parked alongside it was in a very precarious narrow position. I took my key and hoofed it at high speed uphill to the house. I was all panicky when I got to the house and scared the heck out of J when I pounded on the door to get his attention. He ran back to the bike with me and was talking about pushing it to the side of the road, but the clutch cable was broken and it was in gear so it wouldn't budge. A lady cop pulled up behind us and after I told her that I was worried someone would speed down our street and hit us, she sat there idling while I headed back to the house to call for a tow. While I was noodling around trying to get someone to answer their phone, J came in the front door and announced that he had the bike home already. He'd found the clutch cable linkage and shifted until he got it in neutral and the gallant pushed it all the way uphill home. We had to work together and get a running start to get it up my steep driveway apron and after examining it J thinks we'll be able to fix it ourselves. He is a treasure!

All this after hitting the possum last week on the way home from work at 9PM. I didn't actually know it was a possum I'd hit until the next day. When I hit the mystery object, it felt as solid as hitting a 2 x 4, but there was no bump going over the object or the front wheel falling away into a pothole. I didn't see what I hit because I was watching a possum cross the road up ahead of me. The next morning I checked the area of the mysterious collision and there was a dead possum. They must move in packs like raccoons. It's interesting how all the things that I've feared happening on the bike have already happened; already dropped it and survived, hit an animal and survived, ridden with a bad starter/battery and survived, ridden with a low front tire and survived, ridden for service with only one brake and survived. Each occurrence teaches me something. I don't know if it actually has made me a better rider, but at least I'm becoming more comfortable with encountering problems.

Mini Me

2010-10-26T16:47:00.000-07:00

This is my first post from my new mini Dell Inspiron that UPS so kindly delivered to my front porch at approx. 3 PM today. Too bad that I was still at work until 5 and had the luxury of 2.5 hours of worrying that someone would steal it before I got home. They did hide it in plain sight behind the porch column, but if it had rained it would have been toast. I love the keyboard, for a mini, the keyboard feels almost normal and there's no cheapy clicky feel to the keys. I think my mini and I will be very happy together. Of course I have to give kudos to my man J for patiently assisting me with setting it up and getting through the primary downloads. He is a jewel.

2010-10-22T08:58:00.001-07:00

My Dad's surgery is scheduled for November 3rd. I'm filled with waves of anxiety.

Study in frustration

2010-10-18T12:09:00.000-07:00

We're still waiting for a phone call from the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Ctr. I did learn that the initial consultation takes two days, but have no idea of how quickly surgery will be scheduled after that. My parents called me to say that a retired commercial pilot who attends their church has offered to help transporting them back and forth to Durham for treatments. Not only will that be an huge burden lifted, but Dad even sounded a little excited about flying over the mountains. They asked if I would go along in the four seater plane, but of course Dad didn't even really need to ask. He seems to be doing OK and is in this state of blissful appreciation. I've noticed him consciously soaking up everything around him; sunshine, the last boat ride of the year, the fall colors, but when I'm with him I've noticed that we all avoid the word last like the plague.

Faces of Hope, Indeed!

2010-10-14T06:32:00.000-07:00

It's happened. My parents got the phone call from Dr Friedman last night at 9:45. My father was diagnosed last week with glioblastoma and my sister, Carol contacted Dr. Friedman last week via email. He called the same day with a request for my Dad's medical records. Those were Fed Ex-ed on Sunday and since then we've been anxiously waiting for the response. They called last night and after the insurance dust has settled he'll be having brain surgery at the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center Durham, NC.

What a combo

2010-10-13T11:22:00.000-07:00

Listening to Black Rainbows by Crystal Method and reading Enlightened Sexism by Susan Douglas. Now that's an interesting combination.

she turned her head away
he said everything is fine
with a dark and heavy heart
she danced with her head down
danced with her head down

Dad is home

2010-10-07T12:08:00.000-07:00

Dad was released from the hospital on Tuesday and is ecstatic to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Mom said the first thing he did when he got home was to walk down the big hill to look at the lake. Yesterday I took a half day from work to stay with him while Mom went to the closing to finish up the sale of the house.

When I asked Dad what he wanted to do, he didn't even hesitate; he wanted to go over to the pole barn and get busy sorting and organizing all the stuff leftover from the auction in Berne. My sister,Carol and her husband, Jack helped out by driving down to get the two trailers full of Dad's treasure and delivering them to the lake while Dad was still in the hospital. It was obvious to all concerned that there wasn't going to be any peace until things that were weighing on Dad's mind were taken care of. When they got back, Carol told me there wasn't anything in those two trailers that she wouldn't have discarded as junk. It wasn't junk, it was antique car parts, and because of this experience I've learned to identify clutch linkages, transmissions, carburetors, air cleaners, etc, etc... just by glancing at them. The day was fantastic even though it was sweaty oily greasy work. I got there at noon and we didn't knock off until 5. I kept telling Dad to sit down and rest and I would push, move, carry whatever he wanted done; but after 6 days lying in a hospital bed Dad is like the Energizer bunny. He just won't stop. He's not allowed to drive (not even his beloved golf cart) which means that wherever he goes he has a chauffeur accompanying him. The day was very nostalgic for me since I was always the tomboy of the family and followed Dad around as a kid handing him tools and generally getting in his way. We finished the evening sitting by the outdoor fire burning leaves and sticks cleared from the yard. Mom didn't get back from the closing and other errands until 8:30and she put a big smile on Dad's face when she set his favorite fast food, KFC, on the table. The ride home was long and dark, but I tucked in behind a semi so I didn't need to worry about the Bambi's. This morning I woke to find just about every muscle in my body stiff and sore, but still feeling good to know that Dad's home and able to putter around in his pole barn to his heart's content.

One phone call

2010-10-02T13:39:00.000-07:00

One phone call in the middle of story hour turned my world upside down. I was reading Snog the Frog to a rapt group of preschoolers when the boss interrupted to tell me that I had a emergency call from my sister. My Dad had collapsed at home and was being taken to the hospital at Decatur. When I saw him in the emergency room I didn't think he was going to make it. His heart had already flat-lined once and it did twice more before he was stabilized in the ICU at Lutheran. Since then we've learned that he didn't have a heart attack, but instead a cat scan found tumors in his brain. There was swelling in the left side of his brain which the neurologist suggests cut off the blood supply to the Vega nerve and essentially stopped sending the necessary nerve impulse to tell his heart to beat. They've given him steroids to reduce the swelling and already his condition has improved remarkably. The timing of this whole thing just hours before the appointment for the closing on their house sale was either disastrous or fortuitous depending on your outlook. J made the point that it would have been so much worse if it had happened even a day earlier. My Dad, being the Superman he is, had just finished cleaning up and packing the remainder of the unsold items from the auction when he collapsed. It would have been so much worse for Mom if she'd had to manage all of that on top of his hospitalization. He's far from being out of the woods, the swelling in his brain caused aphasia which is slowly improving. The really unusual part of this is that my Dad had two siblings who died with brain tumors. The neurologist said he's never heard of three siblings having brain tumors, and hastily reassured us that there's no scientific support for brain tumors being passed genetically. My next thought was that there was something toxic in their environment and I remembered the asbestos sided house they were raised in, but Dad said his older siblings never lived in that house. Regardless of the cause, the tumors are there and will soon be biopsied. The results won't be available for 2-3 weeks, but Dad will be released from the hospital in three more days. The neurosurgeon has already given us the hard word that even if it is malignant it's inoperable because of its location in the brain. Mom and Dad knew his hospital stay would be brief since he's a Medicare patient and it's just as well since Dad has some pretty strong opinions about how much treatment he wants to receive. The memory of his sister, Leah's struggle with chemo and radiation is still quite fresh in his mind. This experience has taught me some things about my family, about our resilience and our pride (which apparently has been passed genetically). Even though we are all very different individuals there's a common core of strength and faith that enables our family to survive so much hardship.

How can you tell it's Monday?...

2010-09-27T10:50:00.000-07:00

The boss called in and said she was taking a couple hours of personal time, but called back an hour after she was supposed to be here originally and changed that to taking a sick day. I wonder what will happen when she runs out of vacation as well as sick time?

This was a busy weekend. My parents had an auction to clean out the old homestead and sell the rest of the furniture that no one in the family had room to cram in. There was a beautiful antique grandfather clock and an antique Morris chair that went way too cheap and when the bidding wouldn't start well they decided not to sell the antique organ. I'm going to have to convince (translation-brow beat) my sister into taking it. The Amish families bought the huge dining room table and hutch and I like thinking about their large family gathered around the table that has groaned under the weight of countless of our family feasts. Not surprisingly the collection of antique TV and stereo and ham radio tubes brought in some good money. Two guys stood toe to to having a little bidding war over the tool chests full of tubes. After the dust settled I approached them and asked what they would do with all those parts and they said they'd probably use some and sell the rest. So, I asked if they felt they'd gotten a deal and one of them answered, "It depends, if they test good, I probably will get to use some, sell the rest and make a little money. If they don't test good, it's just a box of junk!" That answer surprised me and I blurted out, "You boys are just here doing a little gambling!" I think one of them thought I was hitting on him because he said something about his wife getting annoyed at him for spending money on more parts. I did refrain from telling them that my Dad was so exasperated with the whole process that he 'd almost set them to the curb where they could have picked them up for free! J and I had tried to convince my Dad to sell them individually on ebay, but the house sold so quickly that there just wasn't time for that. I met the new homeowners and they seem like good people. I told them they would enjoy the house and that it had good karma. I only hope they're able to co-exist with the large family who lives next door as peacefully as my parents have. Hearing some of the neighbor boys talk about the new dirt bike and dune buggy they've just acquired leads me to believe that there will be a new fence in the vicinity very soon! It's amazing to think that my parents bought the house in 66 or 67 for 13K and sold it for less than I paid for my own house ten years ago. The new owners certainly got a deal, my parents profited and now they're free from the responsibility of caring for two homesteads. I will miss the old home place, but my parents have been generous with the things that send me down nostalgia lane; the rolling pin that my Mom made countless homemade pies with, the mantel clock that my Dad disassembled as a boy and then reassembled as an adult and wound every Sunday for most of my childhood, the large crock that sat in front of the bathroom window filled with the stinky wintered over geraniums. Of course some things can't be carried away; the pine trees where the mourning doves nested right outside Mom's sewing room window, the coal room in the basement where we stored stacks of firewood which I then lugged upstairs to fill the wood box each week, the cool side porch shaded with honeysuckle ( I dug up a start for a vine at my own house in 2000, and the antique glider now graces my front porch), the garage that I spent a good deal of one summer helping build from the house we salvaged to make room for our church's enlarged parking lot. The house may have parted ways with our family, but the memories live on.

2010-09-23T09:14:00.000-07:00

I met up with my pool playing buddies this week at the Side Pocket. Even though the tables are more expensive there ($1 per game) than the $3 cover charged at my normal pool hall, it was still good to be in a hall that was bustling with league players and the music was heavenly. Tommy and Jay didn't show up till 9, and even though my game is rusty to the extreme, I even won a couple. Some oldster chose the music, I don't know if it was a jukebox or recorded music, but it was a vast improvement to the recent experience I had at Break and Run. After I was charged a cover and told there was a DJ, I played pool for about an hour to the unremitting thump of rap. After the second song in a row about bitches, I decided I didn't have to listen to it anymore and asked the D.J. to add more variety to his repertoire. He just sat there looking at me and then said he already had all the music loaded and that he was playing a variety. I'm pretty sure the idea of a DJ is to have such a wide variety of music that they're able to accommodate requests. I didn't care for his attitude or his song lyrics and told him that I was leaving due to his misogynistic choice of noise. I haven't been back since. Sure, Break and Run is a great deal. For $3 you get to play unlimited games, but you'll have to be able tolerate the auditory abuse!

The piper must be paid

2010-09-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

Lest you think my sailing adventure was all fun and games, here are some photos to show just a fraction of the work that's involved with going sailing. I was contemplating a day of leisure with a few household chores thrown in, when I got a call from Captain Tim. It was the last day he had before having surgery on his shoulder to get the sloop, Morrigan cleaned and stored for the winter. He told me it would be wet, messy, and with lots of heavy lifting. He wasn't kidding. First he backed the sloop into the storage barn with his fork lift so that the mast could be tied to the ceiling and then pulled it out so that the fun could begin. The hull from the waterline down was covered with a thick green film of scum. The top picture was taken after one hand wash and a pressure wash. Obviously it wasn't clean yet. Tim wanted to find the best cleaning agent so we tried various things; liquid Spic and Span, Dawn dish detergent through the pressure washer, vinegar and salt, bleach, and CLR which was used to show the difference between the way we wanted it and the way it was. We didn't have enough CLR to do the entire boat, besides the chemical isn't supposed to come in contact with your skin. So, we kept searching for the perfect cleaning compound and the winner was Bar Keeper's Friend! After two hand washings and several pressure washings, the result was a shiny shiny sloop!

What is up with the US Postal Service?

2010-09-13T09:45:00.000-07:00

Over the last two years, the US Postal Service has been responsible for the loss of a $150 Visa card that I sent to my eldest for spring break. And you would think that I would have learned my lesson, but when I made a mistake on my youngest's income tax return and had to mail a payment after filing an amended return, I decided to purchase a Money Gram money order to send with the post filing coupon. At some time either in transit or at the IN Dept of Revenue the $672 money order dissipated into thin air. It only took me several hours of searching for documentation, stopping in at the bank where I purchased the money order to plead my case (total waste of time) and some very intense persistence on the phone with Money Gram to get them to cough up a way to expedite my refund. So, at only the cost of all my leisure and chore time this morning, the wheels have been put in motion to satisfy my debt to the IN Dept of Revenue.

So, even though mail carriers have the best legs! and I'm sure they're overworked and underpaid, they need to do better if they don't want to become obsolete.

2010-09-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

I tried to get some other staff members to take a bet whether the boss would show up the first day after a holiday, but I couldn't get anyone to take it, the odds were too much in my favor. I was surprised to see her here this morning, and was glad no one took my bet. But after being here an hour she went home "sick" with her allergies. It is truly amazing that she has any sick time left at all. She must be using her vacation time, hmmmmm I seem to remember something being said about needing to request vacation days three months in advance. Apparently she finds it difficult to follow her own rules.

P.S. She called in Tuesday as well.

How can you tell it's Monday?

2010-08-30T12:11:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you've all heard this story before. I'm back to rotten reality. I came into work to find that the boss called in sick again, despite the fact that the assistant manager is also on vacation and she scheduled a brand new employee for her first day of work.

This song by Gabriella Cilmi I listened to at lunch seems completely appropo

Sweet about me
Nothing sweet
About me-yeah

If there's lessons
To be learned
I'd rather get
My jamming words
In first-so
When you're playing
With desire
Don't come running
To my place
When it burns like fire-boy.

Sailing on Morrigan

2010-08-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

What an incredible adventure I had, thanks to Captain Tim and his sloop, the Morrigan. She's named for an Irish Goddess and the figurehead is carved in her likeness. When it isn't gracing her prow, it hangs in Tim's living room. It must give him such pleasurable memories to see it there. I think Tim feels the same way about sailing as I do about riding my bike. It teeters somewhere between way of life and obsession. J and I considered riding the bike there, but since we had more to carry than I could pack on the bike, we took the Vue and arrived in Michigan City about 8:30 PM. I thought it would be too late to go out, but Tim motored out of the harbor so we could watch the moon rise over the lake. Bless his heart, it was incredible and the photos just don't do it justice. J and I even climbed to the foredeck to lie on our backs and do some star gazing, but I quickly learned not to look at the tip of the mast against the night sky since that brought on vertigo.

Saturday morning J and I woke early after an uncomfortable night sleeping in my Vue.I still get grouchy thinking about how he woke me up to tell me I was snoring, ummmm that's what you do after you finally manage to fall asleep! We took a little walk down along the marina to look at all the boats and watch the ducks go bottoms up, and then when everyone was awake we set off to find a breakfast restaurant. With our bellies nicely full, Tim showed us the charts of the southern basin of the lake and where we would be sailing. The conditions couldn't have been more perfect with 1-2 ft. waves and beautiful sunshine. Tim's friend Jules shoved off for home, she'd been staying with Tim on the boat for the last week and since the marina had no water due to a leak, it couldn't have been very comfortable having to hike down the road to the McDonalds each time she needed a restroom. Still she seemed to be reluctant to leave behind the brief respite from her daily life.

We motored out of the harbor while Tim gave us a crash course in sailing. I learned that the jib is the sail which is usually smaller in front and it's possible to sail with only the jib, but once we got out of the harbor I helped Tim put up the main while J manned the tiller. Tim has done this so many times that it's second nature to him, but it was all new to J and I. We both managed to get barked at sharply once, and when Captain Tim barks, it gets your attention fully. Tim has spent months preparing for this trip, maintaining the boat, and purchasing and organizing the tools and supplies. After he treats some more friends to their first sailboat experience, he'll be heading out solo. I wish I had taken more pictures of the below decks, the galley was so cute with a little spindled wall shelf all the way around to hold necessaries and even a new little fairy mascot, Elle. A brass hurricane lamp shined within a inch of its life swung from it's pivot on the wall, and to the left an electronic depth gauge was mounted in the pilot's line of sight through the hatch. Just between the forward berth and the galley was the head. I even received instructions for that, so I wouldn't get any surprise bloosh-ing (trust me, you don't want to know). The galley where I prepared our lunchtime sandwiches contained a tiny sink and cutting board tucked in the corner along with an alcohol stove. After lunch Tim checked the GPS for our coordinates so that we'd be able to pinpoint exactly how far north we sailed and then said it was time to come about. We had no problems with that and then Tim showed us how to heel to, and said that we could go swimming if we liked. He threw out a line to grab if the boat was drifting faster than we could swim. The water was shockingly cold and being out there illustrated just how deadly it would be to fall off the boat while under sail. Even heeled to, the boat was drifting almost faster than I could swim, and at these temps it wouldn't be long before you'd be overcome with hypothermia. If you were sailing by yourself as Tim plans to do, or if no one noticed you fall overboard, there's no question that it could be your last mistake. Or if J as a novice sailor had made a mistake and backwinded the sails, it could have resulted in a capsize. But of course J quickly masters any new task and it was smooth sailing all the way back. We hit a top speed of 6.8 mi per hour which was exhilarating and only resulted in me squealing in childish terror a few times. You can see from the line of the horizon how tilted on her keel she rides at top speed. Scary! Scary! Scary! When we got into harbor, Tim allowed me to take the tiller through Franklin Street drawbridge and then he took the helm while we waited for the Amtrak bridge to turn. After we docked J and I were whipped and still had a two hour drive home. The whole experience was an exhausting but incredible adventure and if I ever had the time and opportunity to go again, I wouldn't even hesitate.

This is so exciting and a big check mark off the bucket list.

2010-08-27T07:36:00.001-07:00

J and I are going up to Michigan City to go sailing with Tim. I've never been sailing before. When I told my Mom we were going to do this, she gasped and said, "I hope you're going to wear your life jacket!" I thought about getting some Dramamine today, but have never been sea sick a day in my life, even the time I took my bike on the USS Badger across from Ludington (which is a flat heeled ferry - with 9 foot waves) and every other single person on the ferry had their head buried in a barf bucket. I've already been to the grocery and stocked up on party supplies and now all I have to do is endure another long day at work and then we'll hit the road! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Why didn't I have my camera ready?!

2010-08-25T12:23:00.001-07:00

On the way home riding past Eagle Marsh, I saw a large raptor sitting on top of a dead tree. The whiteness of its head made me do a double take. It was an eagle! You can't help be be thrilled when you see something like that. I was riding and pointing to make sure all the cagers behind me would get a glimpse too. I've known there were eagles in the area, but that was the first time I've actually seen one at Eagle Marsh. Too Cool!

Only 2 more days

2010-08-21T13:47:00.001-07:00

Only two more days and my boys will be back at school. I'm going to miss them, but also admit to a certain amount of relief.

Some things I won't miss are;

-walking in the door from work and hearing, "I'm hungry, what's for dinner?"
(This from the young man who's been playing video games since the moment he woke up at noon!)

-going into the bathroom at 3 AM and finding the seat up in the dark!

-opening the washer to find a load of clothes in there, sigh, open the dryer and find another load waiting to be folded (with the miscreant vamoosed from the immediate vicinity)

-wondering if son 1 or son 2 made it to their destination since I received no phone calls or email.

-coming home to find the gallon of ice cream that I bought two days ago GONE!

Morning Glory

2010-08-12T07:22:00.000-07:00

I planted these morning glories to cover the chain link fence and help form a natural barrier between the derelict foreclosed house next door and my flower patch.
Coming out the back door I was WOWed with this beautiful burst of blue. Glad I took the time to take a few photos since apparently morning glories are ephemeral to the extreme. One day later and the bloom was gone, but there's plenty of buds coming on. I needed to gaze at a spot of blue this morning, J was cranked at me because I left the door open AGAIN and that sneaky little bitch of a wire chomping cat got in under his computer. Mooch has destroyed more phone lines, phone chargers, etc... than I care to count. It's time to break out the orange flavoring again.

2010-08-03T09:30:00.000-07:00

OK, I've done enough griping, now I want to tell you about an interaction I had on vacation which left me with a restored belief in mankind. One of the days that I was in Manistee, I took a ride up to Traverse City on route 22. If you're a rider, it is a road to love, shaded and cool with lots of variety in terrain and lovely sweeping curves. On the way back , I stopped the bike alongside the road to take photos of a farm that was nestled in rolling hills just like the one where my Mom grew up in southern Iowa. While I was walking along the road back to the bike, I saw a teal blue pick-up headed up the lane toward me. I was a little apprehensive that someone might take offense at me taking pictures of their property, but was instead pleasantly surprised with this interaction;

"Are you having bike trouble?"

"No, I was just taking pictures of your farm."

"Well, why don't you ride up the lane and help yourself
to some butternut squash and green beans. I've got way too
much and it's just me. I'm on my way to work. Now those
dogs are nothing but nice dogs. They wouldn't
hurt anybody.

"Well, thank you, but I'm only here for one more night and I'm camping off the bike, otherwise I'd take you up on your offer."

"Well, just go ahead and help yourself to what you can eat tonight. I grew way more than I can keep up with eating this year."

The man doing the speaking was young with shoulder length hair. I wished I would have asked him his name, but the whole conversation only lasted a moment. He headed off for work and I rode up the lane and took pictures to my heart's content and then picked one beautiful butternut squash to cook over the campfire.

Manistee was gorgeous

2010-08-01T16:58:00.001-07:00

I had a good time camping, the lake was beautiful, the campsite was clean and nicely shaded with a front row center view of the sunset over the lake, but there are always a few flies in the ointment. On the way there heading west on 120, I caught a small rock right on the lip. An oncoming semi kicked it up, the rest of the trip I couldn't help but flinch every time a truck came past me on a two-lane. The family camped next to me was large fat and boorish. One of them got the stomach flu one night and it was my misfortune to have the campsite between them and the bathroom. The second night the wind kicked up and blew all night, which was rather eerie and just a little alarming since I remembered seeing the obvious damage down in the woods from previous blowdowns. I kept expecting the thunderstorm to break, but it didn't until the next morning and I was already all cozy and fed, tucked into my tent with a good book. The last day I climbed the stairs down to the beach I overheard some people talking about the helicopters flying around the lighthouse. I asked them if something happened and one of them said, "You haven't heard? There was a plane crash just out from the lighthouse last week and they haven't recovered four of the bodies." That gave me a whole different perspective about the beach. I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to be out there floating and lost in all that immense blue.

Beautiful Lake Michigan

2010-07-27T10:49:00.001-07:00