Snort

I wonder if the old adage is true. "See a doctor & get meds for a cold and you will recover in about a week or let it run it's course and you'll be over it in seven days or so". Whether I use the term "Allergic Reaction" or "Cold" (which I've read is actually allergic rhinitis), this misery has lasted roughly five to six days. If counting began with the first sneeze, I'm almost well. Do OTC meds count as the doctor alternative or running the course? Diligently washing my hands, plenty of fluids, extra sleep, chicken soup and jello, have me feeling on the road to recovery. Impatience leaves little tolerance for the need to stop and blow my nose frequently, then allow the coughing urge to catapult me off for the bathroom before the bladder does it's version of a sneeze. It's spring and I have better things to do!

Dog Talk

Our Dog is always spelled with a capital D. She is a member of the family and joyful companion. Returning from a ten day trip thru several cities, we were greeted happily by our favorite four legged creature. As she exited the kennel where she slept for over a week, her enthusiasm on seeing us did not prevent her from touching noses with her newfound friends in neighboring kennels. She always turns to the kennel keepers and offers a big sloppy kiss as she leaves. This Dog knows and appreciates the loving care she receives while staying with them. She always gets the spa treatment (bath and her nails) on the day before we are coming home, and she recognizes that marker. We are told she becomes overly vigilant after that time, so care is taken to be sure we are enroute before beginning that level of care. They are aware Belle is truly a people lover and craves human companionship. She is also very social with her canine counterparts. She participates in all the doggie group activities, earning the tag of "social director", but often comes into the grooming area to keep the owners, groomers, and their children company. They tell us she has a calming influence on some of the rowdier critters...hmm. That surprised us. Her enthusiasm when first meeting someone new often scares the recipient and I was concerned that she might jump on the young toddler there. Nope, she is ever congnizant of the little one and usually places herself between the child and the half door when a stranger approaches. They tell me she never barks from the salon area...strange, in that anyone approaching our house or even walking by generates a loud bark alarm from her.

Multiple budding plant species certainly stirred my allergies as we traveled. By the time we arrived at home, I was sniffling, sneezing, hacking and coughing. Miserable would be a bit of an understatement. After collecting Belle, we came home and I just collapsed with a pile of tissues, decongestants and expectorants. She took Ol' Abner on his late afternoon walk, then settled in beside my chair. With each round of snorting and coughing, she would rise up and put her head on the arm of my chair, with no verbal disturbance, her eyes said it all. If you have never looked into the eyes of a concerned Laborador Retriever, the nurturing effect of same will be lost. I was constantly reassured that it would get better and she would be here for the duration.

Monday Ol' Abner had to make a trip to the capital city for a dental appointment. I usually accompany him on those treks and Belle stays to "watch the house". She gladly accepts her "cookie" as we leave and and offers an enthusiastic welcome as we return. Sometimes we are away as much as nine or ten hours, and she has never had an accident or destroyed anything in the house in our absence. After all, it's HER house too. Since I was in no condition to be exposed to the outside world, he gave a treat and told her to "watch the house and take care of Mom". She did just that. All day long, she either lay in his chair, on the sofa where she could look out the window, or by my chair. Not one word out of her until Ol' Abner called to let me know he was headed for home. She barked at a walking neighbor during that call. Every day she expects to walk in the morning and in the afternoon, makes several treks outside to inspect her yard, and campaigns loudly for a ride in the morning and afternoon. This is her routine. I fully expected to have an argument with her about such. Not one time did she demand I come out of my cozy place to attend to her. While aware of my presence, she made no requests. When she saw Ol' Abner driving up, she welcomed him loudly and ran downstairs to greet him. It was a little after "walk time" and she expected him to deliver. They walked, she loudly demanded her ride, then asked for dinner right at her usual time. Amazingly intuitive, she seems to know when to ask and when to refrain. I was grateful for her company all day, but amazed at her ability to put aside her needs to just be with me.

Working Out the Kinks

After a weekend of sleeping in a tent, walking a quarter mile to the facilities (oh yes, it was a very modern campground with real flushing toilets) I probably deserved to be a little stiff and sore. A good night's sleep in a real bed should have been the remedy. I thought so anyway.

First thing yesterday morning, Ol' Abner & I set out for the Swedish Big Box with a specific piece in mind, properly researched on-line and through reconnaisance by Daughter and Middle Grandchild. We know the hazards of that particular jungle and planned to avoid wandering the wilderness of furniture, gadgets, cabinets and cookware. Plans for two stops prior to the arrival were changed and we ended up in the parking lot sans breakfast. Of course breakfast is one of those things that can be purchased in the Swedish Big Box. No problem. A marathon trek to the farthest corner of the store from the entrance allowed the curbing of hunger along with a wonderful cup of coffee. Unfortunately, Ol' Abner refused to claim the joy of relaxation over a second cup...food swallowed...time to continue our quest. We made our way bin by bin through the maze of rooms filled with racks of stuff we didn't even know we needed. Finally asking one of the fellows in yellow for assistance, we were directed to the appropriate rack containing our planned purchase. He kindly loaded it on our cart and we heaped a few more "necessities" on top and headed for the check-out with our treasure. Good work...uh...maybe not!

I was reminded that the first part of our lap enroute to the restaurant was at a faster clip than he would have enjoyed. He didn't have a chance to stop and look as we breezed through at warp speed. Huh?!? My simple solution...now that we have unloaded the weighty loot, we can stroll through and just look. What was I thinking? That's a long long stroll, and naturally additional necessities were discovered and added to the treasure bag. Two hours later we finally escaped via the check-out, hauled our cargo through the parking lot and marveled at the summer like heat. What ever happened to spring?

It was just after noon and already we were needing another good night's sleep.

The usual flurry of activity that precedes a trip is not without it's pitfalls, especially when the deadline for filing income taxes (federal and two states) looms just ahead of departure. Poor Ol' Abner made his plans to have taxes all done early this year. He actually thought we might get a little of our hard earned tax dollars back, but that didn't happen. Nevertheless, he hit one hurdle after another and the aformentioned documents were just completed today, just one day ahead of the drop dead, it's all over date. They are in the mail and his desktop looks cleaner than it has in this entire year...yeah, he started in January to "get ahead of the game on taxes for a change".

The next ten days will be spent either out of place or enroute to another destination. A trip to South Texas where the bluebonnets should be in bloom will give him a chance to finally do a little motorcycle riding with Son. Ol' Abner bought it last year and loaded it on a trailer, traveled 12 hours only to pull something in his elbow that made it impossible to manipulate the clutch safely. We loaded the bike back on the trailer and pulled it to Corpus Christi, back through Austin to the suburb on the northside, then on to Arkansas with a net mileage of less than 50 miles turned on the motorcycle odometer. The bike wintered under the deck here with only a couple of start ups of the engine to ride fifteen or so feet to relocate it for sweeping purposes. Now he's preparing the trailer for a reload and restart for the twelve hour drive to the northside suburb of the Texas capital.

Son will celebrate a milestone birthday later this month, so of course we will want to be there to remind him what it looks like to be double his age with an up close and personal view of the combined genes he inherited. Maybe he will vow to take better care of the body that will have to serve him through all those later years. Probably not, but a mother can always hope.

Oh the anticipation of it all! I know we will have fun once we arrive. A motorcycle ride is planned to a Central Texas rally point for and overnight campout and crawfish boil. Daughter-In-Law will have all details planned and perfectly organized (she takes much better care of Son than his mother ever did). We enjoy their circle of friends and always feel welcomed and included in the fun.

After the weekend, our journey will lead us North to the Metroplex, a couple of days on the Fort Worth side then over to the northside of Dallas. We will see a Brother in Law through a surgery, attend to Mother-in-Law's prepaid funeral plans (now that she has finally accepted that some day she might, in fact, die), then celebrate middle grandchild's birthday as the grande finale. Actually that was the original purpose of this trip. Seems we have missed her last three birthdays while we were off to other parts unknown. As we made sure a trip was planned for her special day, it just somehow became convenient to include the rest of these activities out in front of her occasion.

Now the dog must be boarded, refrigerator cleaned out, laundry finished and freshly cleaned clothes packed, sundries sorted and reloaded, mail held, newspaper stopped and neighbors notified. Ahh, but Uncle Sam has been duely reconciled and paid...Ouch! Now if we can just find the keys to the motorcycle!

Special Times

A couple of days ago, I traveled North to spend an evening with some close friends and former co-workers. Isn't it great that working and traveling with people of the same occupation can plant and nurture lifelong friendships? Most of my longtime friends were met in the course of working. Maybe that is why it has always been difficult for me to imagine never working again. Volunteer activities can be fun in a retirement community, but the pecking order of the existing hens cannot be challenged without serious pain to a newcomer. When one works, the distraction of the job to be done encourages personal interaction and friendships are formed almost without effort. We seem to just fall into the natural order of things and something special happens within those relationships generated through common goals and hurdles.

Our work was tiring, with constant deadlines, pressures for stronger performance, and exacerbated by many months of out of town travel. As we enjoyed distractions from the stress of work, our group became more of a second family than workgroup. Spouses and children of co-workers became a part of that extended family and the friendships deepened as a result. Leaving that fold was more difficult than I could have imagined. I love being home on my mountain and do not miss the long hours of driving to various cities, but I do yearn for the day to day interaction with that particular group of friends. I miss the work without really regretting it's end.

Being included in plans for future events made me feel wonderful and still part of the group. My life is so full with extended family activities, but this unique "family of friends" is something to cherish always.

From This Day Forward

I read somewhere (or maybe I heard it) that the older we get the harder it is to drop unwanted pounds. Why must I exhibit the verification of that theory???? After several weeks of careful eating with a little exercise (I know ten minutes every few days is NOT enough) no pounds are gone. Mind you I avoid the scale like the plaque since the set upstairs never ever agrees with the one downstairs and if you move either of them just a hair, the number varies even more. Thinking small changes might have the desired effect and yet observing not even a tiny affect on the fit of my jeans, my fears were confirmed at the obligatory stand on the scales at the doc's office last week. Yup..I gained two pounds in just over six weeks since the visit to my primary doc. Probably cannot blame it on the different scales...my mismatched gadgets at home comparitively are reaching the same conclusion.

Yesterday was spent in a flurry of activity to find homes for various clutter in my house...climbing and bending is exercise...right. Searched multiple cookbooks and the internet looking for a "steak oscar" recipe worthy of my effort, then veared off to the weight loss plans and reduced calorie recipes. Eventually decided to just steam the asparagus and serve it alongside a chicken dish with tortellini. Bernaise sauce seemed like a lot of trouble and I didn't have any tarragon vinegar or time to infuse any. Frustrated, I went to bed last night with a new resolution. I will right this gluttonous ship by writing down every bite in my mouth and keeping a diary of my daily exercise...three minuts of ladder climbing followed by two minutes burrowing to the back of the linen closet does not equal five minutes of exercise. Not sure who made that rule, but I am destined to follow it. Only bonifide stretch prefaced and steady movement exercise will reach the catalog. Cooking and recipe searches do not count either.

Roots

Last week I journeyed down my mountain and up another to find my ancestral ties.  Two cousins agreed to join me in the search.  We share a common pair of great grandparents, our parents were first cousins.  Does that make us cousins twice removed or thrice? No matter, we each grew up in very different circumstances with paths that bear little similarity, still a thread of commonality remains.  Actually I would call it more of a strong rope or steel cable.  Childhood memories are always fun to dredge up when one reaches a certain age.  Locating the landscape where the events occurred is sometimes a little more difficult.  Cousin 1 has remained in the county of our roots all her life, married a hometown boy and raised her children there. Cousin 2 stayed in state, married a boy from the capital city and raised their children in the central river country.  As you may know, I left the hills and grew up on the plains of Texas marrying a native and raising my native Texan children in several parts of that state. A favorite spot from all our childhood days included a cliffside cave with a strange green growth around it.  We loved climbing around the cliffs and following the trail down to the overhang to eat a picnic lunch or make up wild tales about outlaws and renegades.  Back then, the cliff overlooked a pretty little valley with a winding river running through the bottom.  Trucks traveling along the roads below looked like tiny matchbox vehicles and we made up stories about what they might be transporting...like chocolate bunnies for Easter or straw hats for summer.

We set out certain of our destination.  A short way up the mountain each of us at one time muttered the phrase "this just doesn't look quite right", but continued on in spite of confusion.  After several false turns on roads that should not have been, we finally called 1's son for help.  His instruction was to turn left on the first road after somewhere and go down to a road that had a gate that could not be opened, but could be driven around.  Follow that road down to a fork and take the one that isn't all washed out.  Sounded like a good plan, except we had just been down that road.  We started looking for another road that went around a gate and alas only that one met the description. After following a cowpath named like a road down the mountain and taking advantage of the only wide spot to turn around, we grudgingly returned to infamous road that went around the gate. Previously noting that the road appeared to go down at the fork at a steeper grade, we were sure this couldn't be it. The cave was at one of the highest points on the mountain in our memories...we just couldn't go down to get to it. 2 and I followed one road and 1 followed the other and Viola!..they met about a hundred yards down the hill and we could clearly see our destination ahead.

A lake covers the valley below now and the view is still absolutely beautiful. Not one of us had the nerve to take the trail down through "fat man's squeeze" as the narrow place on the trail to the cave under the cliff was called. Still we took photos of one another atop the cliff just to prove we found it and shared happy tales of childhood. Later we shared lunch without sand or bugs in a sandwich shop up the road. It was a wonderful day! (more to follow)