Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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5 miles

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This morning as I walked the dog out for the morning paper the intense color of the delphinium near the mailbox hurt my sleep deprived eyes. I had stayed up past 2 a.m. playing retrieve the squeaky toy with the dog while talking to my husband, so I was operating on minimal sleep. I faced a day full of mulch moving, having received yesterday 4 yards of composted mulch that smells, after the evening rain, reminiscently of my uncle’s pig farm. But first I needed to get my 5 mile training run in. And I had to do it quickly before the sun got any higher and the temperature got any warmer. I headed out the door immediately after eating my Cheerios.

Nature report mile 1: The tracks of deer crossing the muddy road, a deer fly circling my head, and the calls of the blackbirds in the swamp; “Hey! Whose on guard duty?! She’s already out here running! Get her away….away…away…!”

Nature report mile 2: A bright red male cardinal flying out of the brush on the side of the road next to me and perching in a tree to sing me along, and during a patch of road in the sun, the shadow of a deer fly buzzing the shadow of my head.

Nature report mile 3: Two blue herons flying low across a horse pasture parallel to the road where I was struggling up a big hill, a couple of horses further on, maybe mom horse and her child looking up calmly as I gasped my way past their yard, with a deer fly buzzing my head.

Nature report mile 4: This is my worst mile, uphill, through town, on a busy road. I watched a white egret fly above me as I passed the pungent Davisburg candle factory, and swatted a deer fly that bit my leg.

Nature report mile 5: A very loud chattering little red squirrel up high in a locust tree scolding me for disturbing him, a couple of rabbits zig zagging across the road in front of me, a neighbor woman walking her child in a stroller, talking on her cell phone and trying to control a very big young dog, and a deer fly who bit my arm.

During the last quarter mile walk home after I finished the requisite five miles another male cardinal sat on an overhead wire and cheered for me, and up ahead a blue jay jeered; “It’s downhill, you could be running!” Three black ravens flew up from an ant hill beside the road and cawed; “She’s not dead yet!”

But I might be after I move four yards of stinky pig farm mulch!

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30 minutes

So somehow I am registered for the 10 mile Crim run and the Brooksie Way half marathon.  The Crim is the 30th of August, the half marathon is Oct 5.  I’m now officially in training, and I have to say it’s the weirdest sensation. Again.  At night when I wake up before a scheduled running day I’m all excited.  Today I was scheduled to get out there and keep moving forward for 30 minutes.  I’ve been doing 1/1’s and 2/1’s mostly, a minute of running, a minute of walking, or two minutes of running to a minute of walking.  Last night at 1 a.m. I really thought that I could just run the first mile like I used to.  I was fairly confident, and in fact, excited to get going.  This morning I was a reluctant riser and as usual it took me over an hour to get out the door.  Moving slowly and accessing how I was feeling, I recognized that I had a tight hamstring, two sore knees, and a kink in one ankle.  Great.  All my aspirations of running freely in the morning sunshine evaporated, but that’s about all that evaporated in the heavy damp air.

I walked the first three minutes but the rest of the time it was mostly 2/1’s with some 3/1’s thrown in.  At one point I was checking my watch, hoping it was time to walk, when I noticed below me a bloody messy dirty something or other.  Some recent road kill.  The old running days kicked in and I stayed in the air with a sudden outstretch of leg, striding over the..well..whatever it was…and never looked back.  Today, not having a specific number of miles to do, I ran wherever there was shade, which meant uphill more than my normal distance marked, but sun filled route.  It was a nice change.

Coming home I figured that when I got back to my street I’d walk the last three minutes, sort of to balance the beginning of my trip.  But as I crested the muddy hill and turned onto the pavement of my subdivision our neighborhood black fly attacked and chased me all the way home.  I ended up in my driveway with six seconds to spare on my 30 minute goal.  Not bad.  Guess I should thank the black fly.  But I won’t.

Just another day in the life of a middle aged athlete in training.


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Something no one has ever seen

Once when we were kids, getting ready to carve our Halloween pumpkin, Dad told us he was going to show us something no one had ever seen before. We waited in anticipation as he sliced the top off the pumpkin, wondering what he was talking about. “Here,” he exclaimed, “no one has ever seen this before!” “But it’s just the inside of a pumpkin,” we whined. “Yes,” he said, “but no one has ever seen the inside of this pumpkin before!” This morning I remembered that day as I was peeling my banana for breakfast. Dad’s voice was in my head; “No one has seen the inside of this banana before!”

Good morning Dad!

Morning Sunshine.


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Another nature report

This evening I found a turtle laying eggs in my berm.

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Of course when I came too close to take her picture she pulled her head in.  But I’ve been watching her from inside the house, and she’s very busy laying eggs.  I’m trying to keep track of her as it gets dark.  When she’s finished and heading back to the pond across the street I want to make sure she gets across the road safely.  Plus I”ll have to watch for the babies.  I see this turtle (or one like it!) around the house every year.  I hope she gets finished before it’s totally dark out.

Life in the country, something interesting every day!


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Rainbow Katie

If Katie hadn’t been barking at a rabbit this evening I would have missed the fact that it was raining while the sun was shining. So I would have missed this:

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The rainbow was over my neighbor’s house, across the street. It only lasted a little while before it began to fade.

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Thanks Katie! Now stop barking at the deer in the yard. Please?


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Evening adventures

At home alone in the evening I am attempting to read “The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao” by Junot Diaz. I’m also half listening to the evening news. And I’m studiously ignoring Katie who is by the back door barking about something. Doesn’t everyone read like this? I hear a faint thud, then another. Turning down the sound on the TV, I go to see what’s up with the dog. Now she is hysterically barking at the door and there are definite sounds of something…or someone…out there. But the more I listened, in between telling Katie to BE QUIET the more I thought it might be something, say a bird, that had gotten into the wall or up in the attic.

Leaving Katie behind I ventured outside to see if there was a hole in the siding that would have let a bird in to make a nest. Standing out there, inspecting the house I heard something in the garage clawing at the garden door, trying to get out of the garage! It sounded HUGE! And scary. I ran back inside to consider my next step. Obviously birds don’t have claws and whatever was in there wanted out NOW.

I went out, got in the car (locked the car doors, the garage monster might be able to open a car door!) backed it away from the garage and pressed the garage door opener. I figured whatever it was might run out. Our garage is full of gardening stuff, so I couldn’t see much, but I waited, confident that the monster would take the easy way out and run away. Nothing. I went back in the house and got a flashlight, and ventured part of the way into the garage, flashing my light under things and tentatively around corners. Nothing. But I could see, at the back of the garage that something was peeling the door out to the garden apart and chewing on the insulation inside the door. It’s a steel door but it was no match for the garage monster! I went back inside to the howling dog, locked the door and called my husband. No answer. I was on my own.

The sun was going down and I didn’t want to be working on this problem in the dark. Grabbing the flashlight I raced back around the house and approached the garden door. I could hear the THING clawing at the door again. I rattled the doorknob, hoping that would make it back away, and pushed the door open. Shining the flashlight under the workbench I saw…nothing. I backed away from the door. Nothing. It was getting dark. I didn’t want to be out there with whatever was in the garage. But I also didn’t want it in there. Finally a really big ground hog face appeared in the door, then backed back into the garage. AHA!

I left the door open and went back inside to answer the phone. Husband wanted to know what was up. I told him I’d taken care of it, believing that certainly the ground hog would leave while I was on the phone. After the call I went back out and closed everything back up and settled back into my chair to read. THUNK! Katie howled. The thing was still in there! DRATS!

So in the end I went back out into the dark night, opened all the doors, rattled around in the garage and chased the groundhog out into the night myself. I know he’s going to eat my green beans which have sprouted in the garden, but better that than my house. I guess. That’s just the breaks of living in the country.

Now Katie, go to sleep, you can stop barking. Really


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Eagles and Dads

Earlier today I attempted to write a post about Father’s Day and my Dad. But the words were flat and unworthy of him, so I put it away for awhile. Instead, Katie and I went to Springfield Oaks, a park nearby and walked. In some ways that was hard, because many families were out there celebrating Father’s Day and I was alone with my dog. But in other ways it was just what I needed. We only walked about a mile, but that’s further than Katie is used to. Half a mile down a big hill, and half a mile back up. Right now she is curled up on the floor near me sound asleep.

Near the half way point of our walk we sat for awhile under a young maple tree and watched the clouds blow across the tops of hills nearby. I thought that if I had painted that scene, the clouds, hills, trees, as they were it would look childish and fake, yet there it was in real life. And as we sat there I began to muse about another friend’s writings that I had read today about his Dad and God, and the times he felt both their presences with him. He described one instance when he saw five eagles in flight as he rounded a hill on one of his runs near Traverse City as a time when he knew his Dad and God were both with him.

I too associate eagles with my Dad. Shortly after Dad was killed my husband and I were sitting in my brother’s house on a lake while everyone else was off doing things. Though I had never seen a bald eagle there, nor heard that they were near, one swooped in and sat on a tree out near the water, watching the house. The eagle sat there most of the day, long enough for my brother to arrive back home and witness it as well. I thought then that if that eagle wasn’t Dad, it was certainly sent by God and Dad to check on us and give us some sort of comfort.

So on this Father’s Day I sat in the shade of the tree, watching clouds skid by and remembered Dad, and that day and that eagle. I figure God must be good at multi-tasking because Dad died the day before the tsunami that hit Indonesia in 2004, and surely He was busy with many families who were hurting just as much as we. But somehow He found the time to send one small family in a little town in rural Alabama a measure of comfort.

Today I think they were both with me again, in those hills and clouds that Katie and I watched from under the comforting shade of that young maple tree.


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Tim Russet

I spent all day today at an “unconference” for new librarians, so I didn’t hear the news about Tim Russet until I arrived home.  Though I’m not a political junkie I had watched “Meet the Press” on occassion, and I liked Russet’s style; the way he got his difficult and direct questions in with a sense of dignity for both himself and the interviewee.  His approach was so unlike many other loud, adversarial political interviewers.  So I was sad to hear that he died today at 58, probably from a heart attack, suddenly and without notice.

I immediately wondered about his family.  Turns out he had just left his wife and son in Italy where they had all been celebrating the son’s graduation from college.  I know just how that son feels, the disbelief when you’re told your dad is dead, which can’t be true, given you’ve just seen him, spoken to him.  How it’s obvious to you  that they have the wrong guy.  How you stubornly hold onto that view point until even you have to believe the terrible truth.

Sudden and unexpected death may be easier for the person who has left, but it’s such a difficult thing for those of us left behind.  My heart goes out to this young man who faces the future without his dad, especially on this Father’s Day.


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Camper Katie

I like to camp, but I don’t get the opportunity to camp now days. So I sometimes set the tent up in the back yard and camp out at home. I know. It’s weird. Trust me, it’s fun. And look at all the gas I save by not going up north! So last fall I bought a new tent, and this week I put it up for the first time. It’s a lot more complicated than my old tent, and it took me about 45 minutes to figure out that maybe I should just follow the directions. Then it went up just fine.

I decided I’d see if Katie (the dog) wanted to camp out with me. So a couple of nights ago we both went out to the tent about 10:30. I was tired, I hoped she was too. She settled in pretty easily, a quick sniff all around the perimeter of the inside of the tent, and she curled up on a pillow, let out a big sigh, and I figured that was it. I went to sleep myself. Shortly a dog barked, very far away. Of course Katie started barking herself. Then more sniffing, pacing, flopping down on the pillow only to get up and pace some more. After what seemed like at least half the night I turned on the flashlight to check my watch. It had been 40 minutes. So inside the house Katie the dog went, and I went back outside to enjoy my tent by myself.

The second night she watched me suspiciously as I got stuff together for another night of camping. When I grabbed the flashlight she trotted down the hall to our bedroom. I decided to watch the 11:00 news just in case there was rain coming. After the news, at 11:30 Katie had still not reappeared. I checked on her and she was curled up asleep in her crate in the bedroom. She wasn’t the least bit interested in camping out with me. So once again I spent a wonderful relaxing night in my very own tent.

Today I had to mow the lawn, so the tent is packed back up. But I promised Katie we’d try it again sometime this summer. Maybe I can turn her into a camper yet. After 18 years of marriage I haven’t converted my husband, but Katie might be easier. You never know.

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