No better place to be than on the water for the Fourth of July!
On this cold and rainy Sunday afternoon I’m yearning for summer, how about you?
No better place to be than on the water for the Fourth of July!
On this cold and rainy Sunday afternoon I’m yearning for summer, how about you?
Seasons come and seasons go.
So long 2018, you showed me lots of pretty things but I’m looking forward to finding even more amazing and beautiful images in 2019.
And Happy New Year to all of you, dear readers, Katie and I appreciate your visits to our blog more than you know. We wish for all of you a wonderful 2019!
It’s been almost a week since I posted last. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it and all of you. Ideas for posts have slipped through my mind. Bits and pieces of stuff most instantly forgotten.
I’m distracted and I don’t know why. Could be that it keeps snowing and it’s cold. Could be that we haven’t had more than a few hours of sun in over a week. Maybe it’s the 7 day forecast which shows more snow coming.
And did I mention the cold?
I have no plans for Christmas other than to take the dog for a walk somewhere fun. Unless it snows. Or maybe because it snows. She likes snow.
Me? I don’t think I like snow all that much any more. I remember as a kid having fun building snow forts and sledding down hills and ice skating on the lake. But these days I hurry the dog along on her walks and when she’s outside doing her business.
Why is it that when you’re traveling and it’s cold it’s fine, it’s part of the adventure. But when you’re home and scraping ice and snow off the windshield in the early dark morning it’s just about too much to bear?
Alabama calls me.
But I’m trying to be a responsible adult and I have commitments here in Michigan that I need and want to honor. The most pressing of those being the Christmas concert I’m playing tonight at a local high school. I made a commitment at the beginning of the season to play a certain number of concerts. The dates were provided at the start.
To bolt for warmer temperatures now would be wrong.
Katie says she likes the cold and I should get over it. Katie doesn’t scrape the windows of a car whenever she wants to go to the park.
Maybe I should work on my Christmas cards to lift my holiday spirits. On the other hand so far we’ve received only three cards, one from our stock broker, one from Katie’s kennel, and one from an exceptionally organized friend.
It’s possible I’m not the only holiday spirit deprived, disorganized and distracted person out there.
If you need a holiday boost and you’re local, stop by the Clarkston high school tonight about 7 and hum along to some music in a warm auditorium.
I promise any snow you see there will be fake, but the holiday spirit will be real.
I think I’ve always unconsciously noticed the markers, but ever since my dad was killed on a Georgia freeway I’ve been more aware.
And more curious.
Because I know we as a family wanted the spot that dad died be marked. A life changing event happened there and it seemed wrong that the road returned to normal almost immediately after. That thousands of people passed by and no one knew what an extraordinary place it was.
Somehow you want people to know.
So for a few years I’ve stopped at roadside memorials, wherever it was safe to do so, and taken a picture to document the name and dates.
And back at home I’d try to find something out about that person. Sometimes I’d find a report of the crash, or the obituary.
And then, each time I passed the memorial I’d remember that person, sort of an acknowledgement of their existence, a bit of sorrow at the way they left.
I think that’s what the families want, to keep their loved one alive in the minds or hearts of people.
I feel sad for all of them, but none so much as the young ones. The young drivers, the children who happened to be in the vehicles.
There seem to be so many of them.
So what, are you asking, did we do at the site of the crash that killed dad? It’s on a very busy piece of freeway, about an hour west of Atlanta, right at a truck weigh station. We knew we couldn’t safely stop there for much more than a moment.
So we concocted a plan.
We bought three bags of daffodil bulbs, loaded up into the car with a pic and a shovel and drove there one rainy afternoon. We pulled over as far as we could, piled out of the car, hacked a hole in the soil, tossed the bulbs in and covered them up as fast as we could while cars and trucks streamed by.
In the fourteen years since, I’ve rarely been in the South at the right time of year, and never have I taken the more than hour drive from the lake over to the crash site to see if they’ve survived.
But last spring I went.
And the road was still as busy, several lanes of trucks and cars flying by. Lots and lots of trucks on all sides of me. I couldn’t really take a long look. But out of the corner of my eye, as I passed the site I saw something.
Just a simple flash of yellow, there below the guardrail.
I’m not sure how many daffodils were in bloom, I think more than one. To be honest it could have been a yellow solo cup, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that for a brief moment, driving down that freeway, my heart sang and I smiled.
So if the daffodils really bloom, there along the highway every spring, then I have to think a few other people have noticed them as they speed past. And maybe they smiled too, and wondered at their meaning.
And I think dad would have enjoyed the beauty and mystery of that.
The changing weather created an interesting sky and I ran over to a local park to watch.
Our weather is, however, nothing at all compared to what’s happening in Florida, Georgia and Alabama right now.
Hurricane Michael, roaring up from the Gulf is going to go right over the top of most of my siblings. They live many miles from the coast, but this storm isn’t slowing down even now that it’s reached land.
They’re hunkered down and I’m sure all will be well.
Well, mama’s gone and done it this time. She’s getting forgetful and she spends a lot of time looking for stuff. Like her keys and her glasses and her book. But now I think she’s slipped over the edge into something more ominous.
This time she’s misplaced daddy.
I’ve looked and looked and I can’t find him anywhere! I’m worried that I’ll never see him again! Other times, when mama and I are off on adventures I know that daddy is home safe and sound. Eventually we go back and there he is and I get all wiggle-butt and happy and stuff.
But now we’re already at home and I can’t find my daddy.
Mama says it’s OK, she talks to him all the time and he’s just down south helping my uncle work on a project. But that doesn’t make any sense to me. Usually if my people are down south we’re all down there together. And here mama and I are up in Michigan. So I don’t know if I believe her.
Sometimes when I come in from a walk in the park I run in the house and down the hall just to say hi to my daddy and when he’s not there I get all disappointed. Mama tries to distract me with talk about supper and stuff, but I know the truth.
My daddy is lost.
So I’m putting out the word. If you find him, please send him home to me and mama, OK? Meanwhile I’m sucking up to mama. I’ve lost one parent, I’m not letting the other one out of my sight! And she’s sucking up to me too. The images in this blog post are from a lovely walk we had in one of my parks yesterday.
Today I’m campaigning for another walk at a different park. I have to keep track of so much, my parks and my parents! It’s exhausting for a little sheltie-girl.
I think I’ll go take a nap. Got to be rested up when daddy comes home!
You and I know the truth, though. It’s all about me.
I am the princess of the family and a princess needs her soap box to stand on once in awhile. Wait. I think that’s wrong. I don’t need a soap box! I need a big box of treats to stand on! Yea! That’s it. Let me write that down so I can remind mama….one moment please.
OK. I’m back. Literally actually, I’m back from an extended vacation with mama and daddy to Alabama. Mama and I drove down near the beginning of June and daddy and I drove back up this week!
Whew!! That was a long time to be away from my castle. But of course I just made the lake house my castle, and as it had a royal air conditioning vent for me to sleep on, it was just fine.
Anyway, I’m back in Michigan now and guess what? Mama took me to check out my park this morning!
I haven’t been there in forever! I was so excited! Mama said we needed to go early in the morning before it got too hot.
We messed that up cause mama was sleeping. So we didn’t get out there till a little after 9 and it was already too hot! I let mama know by laying down every time she stopped to take pictures of stuff.
Which was a lot.
I don’t understand mama. We’re at my park and she’s busy taking pictures of stuff that is not me. Inconceivable! Who wants to look at pictures of not me?
Mama noticed that I was laying down a lot. She said it broke her heart, and she decided we wouldn’t walk very far. And she was very careful to make sure I had shade when she was busy with her little camera, but sometimes I swear she forgot I was even there. One time I got mad at her so I lay down with my back to her.
And you know what she did? She went around the corner when I wasn’t looking and she waited to see what I would do! Well! As soon as I noticed she wasn’t there anymore I took off running to find her.
I don’t think it was very nice of her to laugh at me.
After that I didn’t ignore her as much, cause I had learned she can be a sneaky mama. She found some beautiful flowers on the way back to the car.
I didn’t mind sitting near them for her. I sort of thought they smelled good, but mama said they didn’t really smell at all.
Not for her maybe, but for a sheltie-girl they smelled real good.
Anyway, I sort of had fun even though it was hot and mama was distracted, and worst of all she forgot my treats! On the way back we saw a green heron standing on a picnic table and some really cool turtles. But mama didn’t have her big camera so there aren’t any pictures of that.
I told mama that was OK, you guys have good imaginations, you know what stuff looks like, right? Mama just sighed and said every time she goes out without her big camera she regrets it and then she said something about coming over to the park some morning without me.
WHAT???? Mama! It’s called KATIE’S PARK for a reason. You better not try to visit it without me, cause I’ll know. Shelties are super smart and we know things.
So don’t even think about it!
Saturday a bit of a pain in my back became worse and associated pains in my chest began to bother me. I couldn’t assume any longer that picking up the dog was the problem, so I headed for a local emergency room.
I didn’t really think it was much of anything, figured they’d run some tests, tell me it wasn’t a heart attack, that perhaps I had strained something. I thought they’d send me on my way after a few hours.
Instead they admitted me for observation.
Far from home and my own doctor, in a town near our lake house and with no family nearby, I began to stress. Katie was home alone and I was stuck in an ER, about to be wheeled upstairs to a hospital.
I called one of my neighbors who sprang into action, checking on Katie and arranging for her to have a sleep over with them and their dog Dixey. Katie enjoyed her sleep away from home with one of her best doggy friends.
Mama, on the other hand, got no sleep at all.
I’d had an EKG, a chest xray and blood drawn down in Emergency. They did more blood drawing upstairs, hooked me up to a heart monitor and left me alone for awhile with instructions not to get out of bed.
Eventually a doctor showed up and asked all the same questions they’d asked downstairs, but in more detail. She asked how my parents had died and I explained about my mom. She asked about dad and I told her the short version of dad’s truck crash death. She got quiet.
Then she said 4 years ago her daughter and her ex-husband and his girlfriend were in a bad crash. The girlfriend died, and her daughter sustained a traumatic brain injury. She showed me her 10 year old daughter’s picture, attached to the back of her hospital ID. We talked about the long road ahead of a brain injury patient. We looked each other in the eyes as we both spoke of our fear of being on the road these days. Then she said – “Do you hear that cricket?” I did. She investigated my bathroom, and said she thought it was in the shower drain. I said there could be worse things in a shower drain and we laughed and she left.
Around 10:30 I asked if the big light above my head could be turned off so that I could get some sleep. An aide came and turned off the light and I tried to settle down. Minutes later a LP showed up to take my vitals. Blood pressure, temp, heart rate. Did I need anything? No…just some sleep. She asked if I wanted her to take away the dinner tray which contained a pile of unknown shredded meat and a completely round scoop of white supposed to be mashed potatoes.
I said please do, adding that I ate the carrots. She said she’d note that and added that when she gave birth to her daughter at this hospital the food was so terrible that her mother-in-law brought her three meals a day from outside. We laughed
Someone came in for more blood. She said she was called the vampire ad said I had nice veins. We laughed. Then she asked if I had a cricket in the room? I said yes, she was keeping me company.
Sleep was elusive as I worried what all this meant.
Just after midnight the RN came in to check on me. We talked about shelties, her mom used to raise them. We talked about how smart they were. I said I was looking forward to sleeping past 4 a.m. because my sheltie was having a sleepover at the neighbors.
Twenty minutes later someone was in to do vitals again. My back continued to ache, the chest too. I couldn’t get comfortable in the narrow bed, wired to the heart monitor. I was worried about my dog. Feeling lonely.
I listened to the cricket singing in the bathroom and wished I was back at the lake.
12:30 a.m., maybe 1, a young man showed up for yet more blood. He turned on the bright light, but that was OK, I was still awake. He asked if I was from Alex City, I said no, I was from Michigan. He said, “Oh, you’re my mom’s age so I thought maybe you knew her.” He couldn’t get any blood the first two times he tried….he apologized for the bruise I was going to have. Then he tried my hand and got barely enough. I said that was the third blood draw, and I’d been told there would be three as they tested for enzymes indicating a heart attack. He said he was sorry, but he’d be back for more around 3:30 or 4.
I settled back to try to sleep. The cricket continued to sing. The RN came in to see how I was. Not so good. She went and got a nitro patch for my chest pain. A side effect, she said, was headache. Twenty minutes later my head was throbbing so bad that it hurt to touch the pillow.
I rang the bell for help.
The RN returned, listened to my complaint and said she’d see if she could give me a Tylenol for the headache. The night shift doctor showed up and asked me more questions, then prescribed an extra strength ibuprofen to be administered through my IV. The RN brought that in about 2 a.m.
I curled up and fell into a deep sleep which lasted until almost 3:30. I was so disappointed when I woke, the sleep had been so warm and good. I tried to will myself back to sleep. But the blood guy was taping on my door. So I gave him more blood and we discussed why they needed so much, and why there was a cricket singing in my bathroom. I said the cricket was now my friend, and we laughed. Ten minutes later he was done and I curled back up again, attempting sleep.
It wasn’t two more minutes when someone else was knocking on the door and wheeling in another cart. She was a perky lady, dressed in pink who sing-songed her “Good Morning!” brightly to me. I grunted and glared at her. She was here to do another EKG; this one would be my ticket out of the hospital if it was good, so I didn’t want to be rude and send her away. But seriously? Who thinks that 3:45 a.m. is a good time to do an EKG? She said she had 5 of them to do that morning and I was the first one.
I asked her if she tag-teamed the blood guy and knew that I was already awake, and she said, “Oh no dear, I have to cover this whole hospital, I can’t be following him around.” And then she said “Hey…do you hear a cricket?”
Once she had her test done and had merrily danced away the young woman doing vitals, who hated the hospital food, arrived to take my blood pressure and temp again. Now near the end of her shift she was much less talkative, but she did mention that she heard a cricket.
Later the RN checked in on me asking how I was feeling. I said the back and chest pain were gone and the headache had been reduced to a more manageable pain. Mostly due to lack of sleep. She said she’d leave me alone. It was almost 5:00. Light was beginning to seep through the fog outside my window.
I gave up and turned on the TV to watch the news.
My friend the cricket wasn’t singing anymore. I guess her work keeping me company was done and she was settling in to get a good day’s sleep. I wished her well. Because I now knew something she probably already knew. There’s no sleeping if you’re spending the night at a hospital.
And what caused all that pain? We don’t know. I didn’t have a heart attack, but there are many questions left unanswered. There are probably questions I don’t even know to ask yet. But I will. I’m headed north to see my doctor, and I’m packing all those test results with me.
I hate leaving the lake, but it will be here for me when I return. And I’m grateful to wonderful neighbors on both sides of us that took care of me and my dog when I needed help. That’s the South for you. Even in the hospital people shared their lives and laughed with me. Every one of them cared about me and each was concerned that I was away from home.
I appreciate them all. Especially my best friend the singing cricket in the drain. I hope she’s comforting whoever is in that room tonight.
I bet she is.
Yes it’s peaceful here on the lake. You might even say it’s tranquil. Nothing to do but watch the weather move overhead.
Perhaps take a morning paddle.
Maybe toward evening take the ski boat out to the big waters to see the sunset.
If you go way out there you need to sit awhile and soak it all in.
But mostly you putter around close to the house, perhaps exploring just up the creek in the canoe.
And sometimes, if all your siblings and their significant others show up at the same time…well…you just need to goof off.
No matter what advanced age you achieve…when you’re all together you can still be kids.
And that’s what I’ve been up to this week after the 4th of July. Katie and I will be heading north soon. She says she likes the lake house and wouldn’t mind staying here the rest of the summer. But I remind her that we have camping (and weeding) to do and so she says she’s OK with going home too. As long as the northern house has an air conditioning vent for her to sleep on she’s not so particular.
Stay tuned as our adventure continues.