Summer Doldrums

Surprisingly last week I fielded a couple of comments regarding my sporadic postings. I had thought no one was even reading my musings here, thus no need for regularity of additional content. Still suspecting that I might be the object of a couple of bluffing jokesters, I delayed action. Today I do have thoughts worth saving in my opinion.

During the summer's heat, we tend to either stay inside to maintain our cool, or spend a little time on the boat with breezes cooled by lake water wafting over our sweat soaked skin. Ol' Abner seems to think a boat's purpose is for traveling to a place where fish can be I jerked suddenly from their happy home. I, on the other hand, prefer to just cruise quietly around the lake and enjoy the breeze and the view. I avoid the crazy fast big bass boat at all cost but I am always up for a jaunt on the "picnic boat". When younger family members are here, it serves well to drag them around the lake on a tube. Even then, the same boat can be used as a fishing platform on a moment's notice. Me...I'll just bring my wine along and act as cheerleader for everyone's activity.

Pappy has been visiting since his birthday party in March. He spends most of his nights at brother's house. Ol' Abner and the dog go over to pick him up in the morning. He comes to our house to spend most of his days watching vintage western movies and old TV shows. They remind him of his youth, he says. Until just a few years ago, he was always up for a few hours of fishing. Now his balance is an issue of concern and we cannot get him near the boat. When we drive to the lake shore or to the river, he chooses to sit in the vehicle and just watch. At 90 years of age, I guess one should be allowed sit out the action. His short term memory is not as sharp as it was once, but he tells many stories from his youth. We have heard these stories over and over, and their number seems to be shrinking. Still, anything that stimulates his memory to cause additional recounting of his youth is a treasure. He tells of having never had electricity until he went into the military. Primary transportation in his childhood was a horse. He rode the Texas plains with friends and family. He remembers acts of kindness from neighbors, and tells about a few old soreheads that received due justice. Lately I have started writing down his stories. We have lost so much of the family history because we were too busy or too far away to listen. Mammy wrote of her life in a short memoir a few years before she died. I was so grateful to find it in some of the boxes after she died. We will share Pappy's with him while we can still ask questions to fill in the gaps. I can't think of any better way to spend a quiet summer day. After all, we have seen most of those movies on the western channel at least three times, and Ol' Abner says the fish aren't biting anyway.

Decades

In our family we tend to celebrate birthdays marking a decade of life with extra relish. My "dad" just began his nintieth year of life. Several months of anticipation culminated in a come-and-go-reception two days after his birthday. On the day between, Ol' Abner arrived at the magic age of 65, though no one much noticed. He reminded me he was now Medicare elegible on the 1st day of the month and somehow, that seemed more important than the actual arrival of the new age. The joy of the day evolved around Pappy's becoming ninety. We lost Mammy in 2000. She was diagnosed with a fast growing terminal cancer just a week prior to Pappy's 80th birthday. That milestone came and went understandably with no fanfare. We had joyfully celebrated his 70th birthday with an impromptu call to family and friends to come for lunch at our home. Thankfully they all brought food since I was nursing a broken wrist at the time. Twenty years has passed and this party was not a spur of the moment gathering. A conversation with the honoree last summer planted the seed of celebration. He pointed out that if he "lived til spring" that he'd be 90 years old with a bit of awe. Thinking I might hear some resignation of life in his voice, I fell on my old standby as a remedy. We must have a party!

After much discussing among siblings, a decision was made to have the party in West Texas. Most of his contemporaries and family live in the area or travel there often. Baby sister and her husband retired to a small West Texas town a couple of years ago. She agreed to host the party and we set about tracking down addresses. As the guest list was compiled, Pappy lamented that he might not recognize the arriving guests or worse, not remember them at all. Conversations leading up to the day included reminders of expected arrivals and discussions of his history with them. On the day of the party, he coped well. As guests arrived we escorted most of them to him and made sure he was told of each arrival's identity. He basked in the attention, but moreso in the realization that all these people came in his honor. He has always taken great pride in this "blended family." You see, he is really my stepdad. Brother is really my stepbrother. Mammy was my mother, Brother's mother had passed away earlier, and when his first child was born, she tagged the new grandparents "Mammy and PaPa". Baby sis, Brother and I have been siblings longer than not. As we celebrated this new decade for the family patriarch we came to appreciate the fullness of the blended heritage we have. We look forward to another party on his 100th birthday. We've all slowed down since that impromptu seventieth. Better start working on that next one now!

Not Seeing the Point

As we age body parts begin the inevitable decline, and Ol' Abner seems to be declining at an accelerated rate. Don't get me wrong. The old guy still stalks up and down our little piece of the mountain, climbs the ladder to clear leaves and acorns off the roof, and chops logs and other wood from downed trees. Always an energetic sort, he requires longer periods of rest between his physical endeavors and those same tasks must be of shorter duration these days. I know this appears on the surface a rather mundane observation, but a routine diabetic eye exam yesterday shook his foundation of personal strength. Yep Ol' Abner has developed the dreaded macular degeneration in one eye.

I didn't go in with him to see the doctor. After a two plus hour wait, I opted to go out to the vehicle to check on the dog. She had agreed to make the long winding three hour trip off the mountain with us after a three year hiatus. We thought she had begun to tolerate longer rides and might even begin to travel with us again. This visit, expected to be a fairly routine eyeglass update, seemed the perfect time to bring her along. The wind was blowing very and I was chilled to the bone after walking her around the grassy areas to sniff and greet walkers. When finished I opted to just enjoy the warmth of the passenger seat to wait for my spouse. As the critter and I settled in with my book, he tapped on the window clad in the temporary shades provided in the eye clinic. When I opened the window, he blurted out "I have macular degeneration and I don't want to go blind!"

My reaction to horrifying news is generally disbelief...followed by massive gathering of information. Given the family history, the disbelief was not present, but many questions remained. Uncle JH had developed the condition and we watched as he valiantly attempted to remain independant while his vision deteriorated at a rapid pace. Once we reached the homeplace I set to work to track down the name of a retina specialist I had met many years earlier. Dr Eddie had given a presentation on exactly this condition and treatment options to retard it's progression. After reading a little more about it and researching treatment options, it would appear that Ol' Abner was given instructions that follow standard protocol. Still, I think we may seek a second opinion.

Perfection

I slept late this morning. The warm covers along with a labrador retriever snuggled next to me allowed the luxury of sleep to last long after the emergence of daylight. When at last my pajama clad self shuffled down the hall in search of caffeine, the dog strolled just ahead of me as if awaiting my comments. I poured a cup of fresh brew and glanced out the kitchen window. A fluffy white snow covered everything in sight. It looked as though time had stopped long before I awoke. Now I knew the reason for the dog's smirk. The silent clean look of fresh snow is even more beautiful with the knowledge that one need not venture out into the cold. I walked around the inside of the house checking the view through each window. I watched in awe as a few snowflakes fell. Short moments later a true flurry of snow was falling softly increasing the thickness of my white outdoor carpet. Paw prints in the snow from the front porch with a singular trail circling back to the door showed evidence that early morning business had been concluded. The tiny disturbances were quickly filling with snow. Ah yes, the blanket would soon be smooth and perfect again...or so I thought. Just as the critter started to bark loudly from her perch at the front window, I heard the roar from afar. Around the corner came a huge yellow grader plowing the snow from the street and making long heaps at the side. Well so much for the undisturbed beauty of new fallen snow!

Just One Ordinary Day

The new year was welcomed in Dogpatch with the sound of bombs and rockets. Only the four legged member of our household seemed to mind. We were wide awake, sober and entertained by marathon reruns. To most it doesn't seem exciting, but there is comfort in the warmth of home with mindless passing of time. Ol' Abner shuffled off to bed shortly after midnight lamenting that we missed the ball drop in Times Square on TV. I continued watching the reruns of a show that we seldom watch, but enjoy. It's on one of those channels that we don't often visit since it doesn't offer sports or news....hmmmmm. Now you know who drives the remote at our house. I guess we are pretty ordinary. Today, that ordinariness (is that really a word?)is reassuring. Best of all the sun is shining on this cold winter day. I do so love sunshine!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Endings

As we monitor the final bits of 2009, it is as usual, a time for reflection and planning. This has been a difficult year, ending with many trials unresolved. I stopped posting to this blog midyear as many of the little anecdotes of Dogpatch seemed trivial and brought no joy as they erupted from my fumbling fingers on the keyboard. A laptop that inserts text into the space after a previously typed letter created a level of frustration just not worth the coping mechanism required. I found it much easier to mindlessly harvest crops and whack the mafioso on the social networking sites.

With the new year, I may decide to become responsible again. Always believing that I am responsible for my own destiny with a serious helping from above (Philippians4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me). That's the KJV, even though the NIV is much simpler, something about that "strengtheneth" verbage has always touched me. It is the only place I have ever seen that word and I seldom hear it used. My father once told me, and a cousin reminded me recently, that there are no contradictions in the King James Bible. I know that, yet reading that same scripture in simpler translations sometimes appeals to my lazy mind. Still I find myself referring to the tried and true for affirmation.

So let the new year begin, and with it I am committed to finding the daily joy so often missed as I fret about the trivia (or sometimes trauma) of life moving on.

Virtual Crops

Despite several less than successful attempts, I have always loved gardening. Discovery of a new type of "farming" has me quite enthralled. Who would have guessed that a virtual farm that runs as an application on Face Book would become my newest addition? Not such a surprise, actually. Gratification from seed planting to harvest in as little as four hours is so satisfying. Ability to hire others to help with the work and realizing increased profits is an entrepreneural experience, a perfect example of capitalism at work. Moreover the rewards of teamwork generate increased success. This silly little game is quite addicting...but somehow I find a bit of a lesson here. One must be responsible and careful to return to harvest crops before they go to waste. Planting frequently earns coins and allows for expansion of the farm, addition of buildings, animals and trees. Intermittent goals can be reached, then extended. Oh if only the reality version were as easy as the virtual.