Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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Forget me not

Forget Me Not

Forget Me Not

I spent some of this first day of the 3 day holiday weekend weeding.  It’s the same old thing, by the time I get around to weeding the perennial garden it’s overrun with grass.  I don’t even need to take a before picture – it looks the same as it did last year at this time.  Think of a long green rectangle filled to overflowing with grass waving knee high.  You would be accurate.

So what does a person think about when she’s pulling grass mindlessly for an hour or so?  Well if you’re me, you think about your Dad.   He’d have been 85 last February.  I’d have liked to see him achieve that age, see what he was interested in, what he’d think about world events.  I imagine him talking to the DOT about truck issues, can hear his impatience with the slowness that is Washington.    I hear his encouragement to keep up the good fight.

I think about Mom too, of course.  She loved her flowers and her birds.  Though she didn’t die at the same time or in the same way as Dad, it sometimes feels like one event, their deaths happened so close together.  I think about her when the oriole couple visit, or when I hear the cranes in the swamp up the road.  And I think about her when I’m weeding.

This week while work was especially difficult I’d get up from my desk to stretch and glance out the window.  Thursday and Friday almost every time I did a robin flew around the corner of the building and landed at the tip top of a tall spruce tree, about level with my window.  It swayed in the breeze and chattered as I stood and watched and smiled.  Eventually I’d get back to work and when I’d glance out in a bit the bird was gone.  But it was back three or four times when I’d stand up to stretch, and the last time it stared in my direction while it chattered.  I know the windows are glazed and the bird can’t really see me.  And the bird couldn’t know that I needed that little bit of entertainment during a very bad day.  But each time that robin turned up I’d said “hi” to Mom, and before I sat down again I’d say a silent “bye, see you next time.”

So I’ve been thinking about the two of them a lot these past few days.  That’s not a bad thing, I’ve sort of enjoyed it.  Especially during these beautiful spring days when I’m pulling weeds in my garden and they’re both just a memory away.

Broken hearts

Broken hearts


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Approaching Mother’s Day

Marsh marigold glow

Marsh marigold glow

Earlier this week the grocery store cashier offered me a coupon for wiring flowers to my mother.  The offer shocked me, not because I’m adverse to discounts, but because I hadn’t realized Mother’s Day was coming up.  And because of course no florist will wire flowers to heaven.  I absently refused the coupon offer and walked out to the car with my groceries, thinking about flowers and Mom and the festive day coming up.

Most years of late I’ve been successful at blocking Mother’s Day out, ignoring the advertisements and the rows and rows of cards with pink envelopes.   I can be genuinely happy for coworkers excitedly  talking of brunches and gifts.  Progress.

This year I recognize even more progress as I think without pain of the flowers we used to give my Mom for Mother’s Day.  Every year we (or she, I don’t remember) picked out flats of petunias and called them our Mother’s Day gift to her.

And I remember other flowers too, the springs we dug up marsh marigolds from the swamp over in the woods and lugged them home in buckets to be planted along the lake shore at home.  I don’t really know if she wanted marsh marigolds, or us covered in mud for that matter, but she always seemed happy to see them.

And then this morning I heard a radio commercial for chocolate covered strawberries that had to be ordered by tonight in order for delivery to Mom before Sunday.  It was a long ad, filled with descriptions of juicy strawberries dipped in dark chocolate and sprinkled with nuts.

The commercial made the strawberries sound good, but it mostly reminded me of my Mom standing in the middle of a strawberry patch, and the way that first warm, ripe strawberry tasted right from the field.  All the dark chocolate and nuts in the world will never make that advertised strawberry taste as good as the ones we ate under the hot summer sun with Mom all those years ago.

So as we approach this Mother’s Day I think of Mom, and how happy she was with petunias and marsh marigolds and strawberries warmed in the sun.   I bet most mothers are the same.  Show up with a handful of dandelions and they’d be happy.

To all the mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day.  And to those of you with mothers still on this earth take a moment and thank them.  A flat of petunias might be just the thing.

Miss you Mom.

Mom 1974

 

 


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It’s been a busy week

Have you ever had so much to talk about that you can’t find the beginning?  Can’t sort out your thoughts, put down a linear storyline?  That’s me right now.  I can’t tell if I’m so tired I can’t think straight or if there’s just so much jumbled up in my brain that it’s tangled in on itself and is stuck there.

The last blog post was a week ago and it’s not as if I haven’t done anything since.  In fact I traveled to North Carolina for a long weekend to visit family.  A family that was celebrating a wedding.

Newlyweds

Newlyweds

It was a big day for everyone, but especially for the special couple who got married at the county courthouse on a sunny, windy Friday afternoon.

I wish them a long and happy marriage filled with joy and adventure, self reflection and growth.  I know that marriage isn’t always joyful but I think if the partners always keep the other person’s happiness in mind it’s easier.

Heading to the courthouse.

Heading to the courthouse.

So my advice is to concentrate on each other.  At this time in your lives you can afford to slow down and take the time to learn about each other, to explore the world with each other and see how differently  it looks from another person’s eyes.

Mostly just enjoy the company, the feeling that someone has your back, that someone is sharing life’s experiences with you.  That’s what it’s all about.

Go forth and love.

Celebrate

Celebrate


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Picture a photo

I’ve been enjoying the photography of Heather in her blog for a long time; she captures life in the north so beautifully.  Her photography website showcases her art and if you take a moment to stop and peruse, you can enjoy all four seasons of the beautiful north country in just a few minutes.  This winter she had the opportunity to take amazing photos of the ice caves along Lake Michigan, who knows if we’ll ever have another chance to see something like this, so go take a look!

I especially enjoy her photos of the Point Betsie Lighthoue, both because it’s beautiful, and because it’s where my folks went on their honeymoon in 1953.  I’ve been there a couple of times myself and have my own photographs, but I’ve never been in winter so I was especially taken by this shot:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I know, I know, it’s a bad photograph of a great photograph!  It was hard for me to decide which Point Betsie lighthouse photo to purchase but I eventually chose this one because it was different and because I loved the shapes of the ice in front of the lighthouse.  I plan to hang it in my folk’s house down in Alabama, a modern twist on their love of northern Michigan.

Thank you Heather!  For taking wonderful photographs that remind me of my trips to the north, and for making them available on your website!  I can’t wait to see what you discover next!

 


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Reflections

Just last Saturday I was winging my way over snow packed fields toward sunshine and family.  Katie was safe at the kennel, work was a memory.  I enjoyed my time with family relaxing for a long weekend and we did a lot of fun stuff, some of which you’ve seen on Facebook; climbed the fire tower, went for a boat ride, ate, slept, read.  It was lovely.

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I knew this week would be a challenge; the combination of a dog home alone all day, a busy full time job and two community band concerts made for interesting logistics.  I flew home Tuesday afternoon, landing at 5 which gave me just enough time to stop at the house, grab the clarinet and head off to our last rehearsal before the concert Friday night, followed by our big community band festival in a town an hour away Saturday morning.

I thought I had things all figured out.   I had permission to leave work early on Wednesday to get Katie out of the kennel before they closed at 5 p.m.    I had a dog walker scheduled to come to the house and play with her every workday.   I had permission to leave work early on Friday so that I could go home, feed her, let her out and still make it back to town for our concert that evening.  Yep.  I’m a master at making lists and planning.  And you know what they say about the best laid plans.

They say that I didn’t adequately factor in Katie.  That’s what they say.

So let me tell you about the last four days.  Settle in.  This might take awhile.

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Wednesday afternoon I picked Katie up from the kennel about 4:30.  They said she was perfect, liked her food, didn’t mind her meds (she was finishing up antibiotics for an urinary tract infection), liked to go outside, liked attention.  That’s my girl.  I took her to the doggie bathroom before we drove home hoping to avoid a 30 minute howling session.  She peed.  We got in the car and she howled the whole way home in her voice hoarse from barking at the kennel for 6 straight days.  At home she was a little terror, barking at me, running around checking stuff out, barking at me, wanting to go out, wanting to come in, barking at me, wanting to go out again but not doing anything while we were out.  Did I mention barking at me?  Wednesday night I was up and taking her out several times during the night.  I was exhausted at work on Thursday.

Thursday night after work I was settling in for the evening, glad I was home after a drive through sleet on icy roads.  Thankful I didn’t have any reason to go out in that weather again.  Then I noticed Katie standing still, head up against a wall panting.  Not normal.  I took her out, but nothing.  I figured maybe she was tired from her stressful week.  Well, so was I.  Maybe we’d take a nap.  I carried her into the bedroom and she lay on my pillow slowly, as though it pained her to lay down.  Then she got up and walked carefully to the end of the bed and gingerly lowered herself again.  Then she got up and tried a new spot, walking stiffly, inching her way down.  This was not normal.  I picked her up and noticed the whole back end of her was trembling.  Out on the sofa and she sat on a pillow leaning against the back of the sofa staring at me.  Now her whole body was trembling.  Not good.  So we went to the emergency vet, a long way away, through the sleet on ice covered roads.

The vet was busy, with two critical dogs coming in after us.  We waited a few hours, with Katie panting next to me on the bench, moving as little as possible.  Finally they took her back and had someone look at her, drew blood, did xrays and gave her pain meds.  After the pain meds kicked in she was a sleepy but happy camper.  None of the tests were entirely conclusive so I left her there overnight for an ultrasound in the morning and drove home on the ice covered roads, making it to bed close to 1 a.m.

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Friday I went to work thinking they’d be releasing her to me sometime in the afternoon.  I had a concert to do that evening and I didn’t know how I was going to go get her, get her home and settled and then leave  her to go perform.  But I figured it would all work out.  Turns out they wanted to keep her all afternoon, so I arranged to stop by after the concert (love these 24 hour emergency clinics!) to see if she was being released or not and to discuss the ultrasound findings.  The concert went well, the ultrasound findings were not particularly conclusive.  But there was evidence of a slightly inflamed pancreas and in combination with high white blood cells they figured it was pancreatitis.  They had sent out another blood sample to an outside lab to confirm, but I could take her home.

Katie was very happy to be home and it took awhile to settle her down.  Actually she never really settled down and we were up and down all night.  At one point I put her in her crate at the other end of the house, went back to bed and closed the bedroom door.  I lay down and I could feel my heart beating, not just in my chest but I was aware of the pulse at the ends of my fingers and toes and the intense overall exhaustion in my legs, neck arms and shoulders.  I lay there and wondered if a person could just get so tired that their heart burst.  I was OK if it did.  Katie howled from her crate for an hour.

Eventually I just got up and got ready for the Saturday morning concert.  She seemed normal but I didn’t trust her enough to leave her loose in the house.  I hadn’t been able to get her to pee for several hours.  Her path through the snow was covered in ice and she didn’t like it.  Being a princess she just decided to hold it until there were better conditions in which to pee.  Unfortunately the snow in the yard is higher than my knees, so the path is all there is for her.  So we were at loggerheads.

Finally I started packing the car with concert stuff, instrument, music, clothes, purse…she watched me with narrowed eyes.  She’d already been packed away in the car and delivered to a kennel, then a hospital.  You could see the wheels in her head turning.  I turned to her, planning to put her into her crate since she hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet.  She backed up.  No way was she getting in that car with her Mama.  She didn’t know what hellish place I might be taking her this time!  So I just said “Katie!  Crate!” and she joyfully trotted in, sat on her pillow and all but told me “Have a nice day Mama, I’ll wait for you right here!”  And so she did.

Our concert this morning went great, it was wonderful, such a relief to immerse myself in something that didn’t have dog hair, blood tests, or poop involved.  We played a slow piece, “Seal Lullaby”  by Eric Whitacre that just about had me in tears.  The lyrics:

Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.

Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas

I just thought about Katie waiting in her crate and all the stress and emotion we’d been through in the last two days, and that hopefully we were almost through with the bad stuff.  Our band played this beautifully, as beautifully as the link above.  Give it a listen.  I think our conductor had tears in her eyes too as the last notes slipped away.  Those are amazing moments, when they happen, musical moments to treasure.  I would have stayed and listened to other bands as I know people in several of them from across the state, but Katie needed me so I hurried home.  As I merged onto the freeway a bright orange truck was going the other way.  “Hey Dad” I thought and smiled.  Then I turned up the radio and sang all the way home.IMG_5875

She was all happy face and crazy tail when I got home, none the worse for wear for spending a few hours in her crate napping.  I called the vet and her test results for pancreatitis came back so low that we can’t really say she has that problem.  Though seriously she had some sort of problem Thursday night.  So there is more detective work to be done, but for now she’s happy.   But boy do I need a nap.  A good long nap.  I guess I’ll play Seal Lullaby again and see if she and I can get some shuteye.

She doesn’t seem to be in the mood.  Princesses are like that you know.

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A break from the snow

Those of you still struggling with snow might enjoy a quick glimpse of something not covered in the white stuff.  So here you go.  (Click on any of the photos to see more detail.)

Walking through the woods on a sunny day.

Walking through the woods on a sunny day.

Of course you might just become jealous.

Fishing lures glow in warm sunlight.

Fishing lures glow in warm sunlight.

But don’t be too jealous, I have to go back home soon.

Steps up to a view.

Steps up to a view.

Dramatically at the top of the tower.

Dramatically at the top of the tower.

And I hear that the snow there has not been vanquished.

Three of the four.

Three of the four.

So soon all of this warmth and sunshine will be but a memory.

Heading for adventure.

Heading for adventure.

Soon I too will be back in the cold and snow.

Home.

Home.

Sad really.  But someone will be glad to see me when I get back.

It's OK, I LIKE snow Mama!

It’s OK, I LIKE snow Mama!

Photo credits:  Walk in the Woods and Steps to a view:  Beth Badger; Dramatically, Three of Four and Heading for Adventure:  Bruce King;  Fishing Lures and Home; Dawn.


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You’d be 85

Today is Dad’s 85th birthday.  It seems something of a milestone, one that shouldn’t be forgotten, though I can’t imagine him at 85.  I suppose he would have been similar to the Dad I knew at 75, maybe with a few more wrinkles, but the same twinkling eyes, the same stories, the same advice.

Dad and his little sister

Dad and his little sister

I can’t send him a card through snail mail, can’t email him or give him a call.  I can’t even text him, but then  he wouldn’t know what that was anyway.  On the other hand…if he were still here I bet he’d have the latest smart phone because the whole information at your fingertips phenomenon would have fascinate him.  Though I wonder if he would have sprung for the expense of having internet available 24/7.  No, I think maybe instead he’d have been content to be in his boat, watching the sun set, floating in the warm water of his lake.  Sure he’d check his messages when he got back to the house, but I don’t think that smart phone would have been used much on the boat.

In his canoe.

In his canoe.

The little boy who loved the water, grew up on the river, and took my Mom for a canoe ride on their first date, grew up to be a father of four kids who got to grow up on a lake and spent many summers canoeing there and on rivers.  We got to camp in National Parks across the country and see things lots of kids never did.  We got to sit around the dinner table laughing until our stomachs hurt and tears ran down our faces.  We got to ride bikes to town and climb trees in the woods and go water skiing after work.  We got to have a dog named Sam and guinea pigs named Barney and ride the lawnmower and plant a huge garden.  We got to go to college and grow up and live in nice places.

Most of that is due to having a Dad who was responsible and supportive.  And who loved us unconditionally.

So thank you Dad.  And Happy Birthday.

I hope you get this birthday card and know we all love you and miss you.

Forever.

Dad 044


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Ice cream in November

Chilly little calf

Chilly little calf

It’s cold here in Michigan.  Really cold. (20 degrees F  which is -6.66 degrees C).  We have been spoiled with a very mild fall…

I'm looking at you

I’m looking at you

…but I think winter has finally arrived.  And what do we do to celebrate winter?  Where do we go when our toes and fingers go numb on the daily walk?  What do we do the day after Thanksgiving when the world seems to have gone shopping?

Got any ice cream for me?

Got any ice cream for me?

We visit the local dairy farm and get extraordinary ice cream!

A four legged ice cream maker

A four legged ice cream maker

Of course…don’t you?

Sweet.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!