Oh the Places We'll Go! NOT

This summer I seem to be suffering from a bit of unrest. We started the season by cancelling a trip so I could have a minor surgery, thinking the journey would only be postponed a few weeks. That destination hasn't yet been reached. Meanwhile unplanned travel has been necessary and I'm grateful that time and means allow for the trips. Still, I yearn for a chance to visit some of the places on my list.

I want to some day take the train across Canada during the summer and enjoy the views from the high windows of the passenger cars. A night at the Chateau Lake Louise would be a must on the journey. We enjoyed a delightful lunch there several years ago, and I knew I wanted to spend a little more time in the beautiful hotel on the turquoise lake. Ol' Abner listens to me sigh as we have seen the cost of the rail ride quadruple in price since my first suggestion that we plan for this vacation, but it isn't high on his wish list. Hmmm

A night or two in the Peabody Hotel in Memphis would be an easy weekend or mid-week outing for us. I want to go when it isn't so miserably hot in the river city so we can stroll down Beale Street and listen to the musicians. With a niece and nephew living there, we would have knowledgeable tour guides to steer us into the little places of local flavor. We did the tour of Graceland and loved seeing all the Elvis memorabilia many years ago, but I'm ready now for a bit of historic Memphis sans Elvis.

A few days in Nashville, Mobile, Savannah, or Fredericksburg might be a salve for my wanderlust. Ol' Abner says we live in the vacation destination for many people and doesn't feel the urgency to see the places I want to go. I keep dropping hints and sometimes make the overt request to his distracted ears, so far it's just not happening. Maybe I'll just plan a trip to London!

Driven

Mountain folk are a unique kind of driver. That old song I heard as a child, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain" comes to mind. As we round a mountain only to suddenly find ourselves behind a slow moving car or worse, a loaded log truck, I just cannot help but yearn for the long straight four lane highways in the plains. In the Ozarks, people take driving an automobile to a whole new art form. Creeping down a mountain riding the brake, then suddenly accelerating on the way up the hill where a passing lane is provided. Some are even courteous enough to move over to the "slower traffic" lane as they generate a burst of speed thought impossible from the look of the vehicle. Others will follow one of the slow moving cars to the beginning of the passing lane, then move to the fast lane only to drive just beside the poky one until seconds before the extra lane must merge back in. A speed of 55 mph is the normal limit on most state highways around Dogpatch. Local residents see no reason why one should indulge in pushing that limit. Cruising around the mountain at roughly 40 mph seems perfectly adequate for most. Sometimes a turn is preceded by a signal as the car is beginning it's turn, hand signals are alive and well around these mountains, but for most a turn just gradually happens. After all, everyone knows he's always lived down this road. I still haven't seen those six white horses though.

Flowers, Feeders and Varmits

Busy summer days can be satisfying. Geraniums are blooming profusely thanks to weekly fertilizer, daily watering and "deer stopper" sprayed around the perimeter. The purple salvia is attracting hummingbirds and the marigolds are prolifically insulting the deer. Flower season didn't begin well. Preparation of a flower bed for daffodils that bloomed while we were away was successful but disappointing as we returned to waning blooms bending over in the wind and rain. The orange day lilies that bloom just beside the steps down from the kitchen were devoured by the deer (and I don't mean dear ones!) who usually just nip off a bud here and there. This year, they ate them down to the ground. Some of them must have developed a taste for the "not deer friendly" plants.

A bird feeder just outside the front window attracted a proliferation of birds from tiny finches, tufted titmouse, cardinals, and small to large woodpeckers. At least until the squirrels discovered it. Ol' Abner made several passes daily to shoo them off until the arrival of his new air-rifle. Now he sneaks around the corner and drops them like rocks with one shot. He's still quite a marksman. Unfortunately they all scatter quickly when one is shot, but they must run into the woods without warning others of the danger. Another group shows up to indulge in the bounty within hours and the panic begins again. Downside of the project is the disappearance of most of the birds. I guess they've decided to move to feeders without so many hazards.

Sweet Summer

Loving the lazy summer days, and today was an especially good one. Ol' Abner has diabetes and it's been a struggle controlling his blood sugar and dealing with the side effects of the high side. Today he visited his medical practitioner for lab results and was pleasantly apprised of the success of insulin usage. We left the office feeling a sense of relief that the frightening trend has finally been slowed or maybe even reversed.

This evening we joined friends along with some of their visiting family for dinner to celebrate a birthday. The company was pleasant and we ended the visit at their home with a dessert of birthday cake. Ol' Abner indulged in a very small piece and noted a slightly elevated blood sugar level when he tested on our return home. He didn't seem to be feeling the awful effects usually resulting from ingestion of sugar. We know he cannot enjoy large quantities of his favorite sweets, but an occasional small serving probably will not cause serious repercussions.

An appointment was scheduled with a local podiatrist today to deal with his chronic ingrown toenails. High blood sugar previously precluded this intervention and he has suffered all summer with constant foot pain. Our hope is to resolve the toenail issue so he can enjoy his walks with the dog and wear his boots for a motorcycle ride.

Ah yes, summer is getting better all the time

Talk

Dogpatch has been a little crowded this weekend. Those relying on only a cell phone for communication have been tested. Several hundred young active wake boarders and their friends have descended on our lake for Bro-Stock Championship Competition. We have avoided the lake since I much prefer a gentler ride than can be enjoyed with all the speed boats and the wake boards in tow whipping up the wake. Weather was perfect for the spectacle. Little wind and lots of sun assured the best view for those watching the competition or those watching the crowd. Pretty much every visitor came equipped with a cell phone and constant texting or talking capability. At our Saturday morning breakfast (which used three times the normal allotted time), Sis in law was completely flustered by her inability to reach the dog groomer where the four legged kid had been deposited for a fresh new look. I seldom worry about such things as functional cell phone. Mine is used more for games and those can usually wait. We have a land line and if you know the number or can access information, we can always be reached. Maybe that's why we live in Dogpatch....we like things just a little old fashioned.

Nosey

It would seem I am fully recovered from my surgical episode. Two visits last week for a light to shine where previously it would not, resulted in a declaration of success from my nose specialist. It is such a joy to be able to sleep through the night without awaking to blow my nose. For a couple of weeks I was sure that ability would bring satisfaction. Now I know! Just being able to take a breath without thinking about it and never thinking about needing to blow my nose is optimal. Life is good.

Blow

About fifteen years ago a blow to the nose began a process that I hope will end soon. Damage was evident at the time in the black eye I sported for several days. When that wound healed, it was all over...or so I thought. A few months later, I suffered a sinus infection followed by another the same year. Previously my bouts with sinusitis triggered by allergies were alternate year events. I had laughingly referred to them as West Texas-itis when we lived along the Texas coast. Laryngitis, sniffles, headaches and sometimes a round of green discharge from the nose. The greeness generally prompted a visit to the doc for a round of antibiotics. No big deal every two or three years. The last four or five years I've been hosting a nasal circus. Ring one is constant drainage, usually green. Ring two brings laryngitis and often the ensuing sore throat. In ring three the allergic flare ups that lead to migraine like headaches. The movement from one ring to another reached its crescendo last month and I finally succumbed to the recommendation that I have a specialist review my nasal passages.

Surgical intervention was a forgone conclusion...and I dreaded it mightily. Oh yes, I can remember the black eyes and miserable strings hanging out of other noses and had no disire to partake of the experience. My doctor assured me that new technology made it a little easier on the patient (oh wait..that's me!), but my thoughts prior to the surgery were seriously bleak. I hoped that I might just not awake if the misery lived up to my imagination.

It's been six days since the infamous surgical event and I still live and breathe in Dogpatch. Ol' Abner has cooked all the meals and waited on me as though I am an invalid. Amazing, the things one cannot do without bending over. Removal of the packing two days after was not nearly as traumatic as I predicted. In fact, it was over just as I worked up a big hunk of dread. It was out and the doctor was calmly holding my wrist to check my pulse. Saline solution sprays into the nasal cavities several times daily keep me breathing easily and I have really had very little pain. One more trip to the surgeon's office is scheduled for removal of the splints still holding my newly straightened nose intact. Maybe I'll be released after that. I won't really feel over this til I can blow my nose.