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.

Things we do in Cars

The older we become, the more we appreciate the joys we took for granted in our youth. Cruising the streets in cars filled with 23 cent gasoline and pulling into a drive-in restaurant for soft drinks and fries. We spent many hours just occupying the space and visiting with friends indulging in the same summer pastime. It occurred to me just yesterday, that the owners of Stanley's Drive In might have preferred to have a customer willing to buy more profitable foods and leave when the meal had been consumed. We usually spent at least an hour sipping and nibbling after spending less than a dollar. I don't think we tipped the car hops either. Oh yes Stanley's Drive In was the place to learn the latest in relationships, activities, upcoming events and newest drama. Some even stole the salt shakers. I can remember going into a friend's bedroom and seeing a collection of a dozen or more of the little cheap shakers brought out on the tray with fries. She was not a bit chagrined by my horror, in fact, she couldn't understand why I hadn't entered the race to collect more than anyone else. It wasn't long after that Stanley's stopped automatically including the shakers on the trays. Today salt comes in tiny little paper packets and no one notices if you take them with you.

All these little snippets of memories sneaked into my consciousness yesterday as Ol' Abner and I walked around a car show featuring restored and updated cars from years past. He found a 59 Chevy in the same color he once drove proudly. His first car was a '55 Chevy and he saw several of the same body style but not the same paint scheme. He remembers the cars themselves. I didn't know him then...but I remember many fun times in cars like those.

Blooms

Things that bloom always make me smile. This week I've been reviving my front porch with fresh plants, some returned from indoor wintering and others new to the mix. The scent of growing geraniums always gives me a happy clean feeling. I love the tall spiky salvia, and better still, the deer do NOT! Marigolds have to be dotted in several of my pots because deer find them particularly abhorrent, and I do like their perky gold and orange blossoms. I've added a couple of hanging baskets near the porch containing coleus interspersed with a number of dusty miller sprouts...since deer aren't fond of the grey green fronds.

All this attention to the front porch gives me a glorious excuse to avoid the weeding of the daffodil bed and deciding what to do about redecorating the treehouse. Last year simple ferns graced my favorite outdoor sitting area, but I'm thinking a bit of color may be in the mix this season. Maybe a few coleus can be added. Nothing with too much maintenance will be tolerated. Guess I better avoid things that need to be deadheaded. Maybe a tall palm for the corner...hmmm, gonna have to worry this one a bit. Meanwhile Ol' Abner brings my wheelbarrow of dirt to the front and returns it to the back when I've used what I need. He doesn't get the same thrill with blooms that I enjoy, but he indulgently backs up my efforts.

Around the Mountain and Through the Woods

A couple of days ago I attended a morning gathering of women with a friend. I knew no one else when we arrived yet welcoming smiles accompanied warm introductions. Driving through the woods to our destination revealed a couple of houses along the road. A dozen or so women were in attendance, all from the surrounding woods. The beauty of this area lies in it's seeming isolation in a populated area. Most of the inhabitants delight in the ability to live where no neighbors are evident, yet are comforted by the spirit of community among neighbors. Conversation was lively as the ladies updated one another and moved from topic to topic smoothly with no one at a loss for words. Even though Mountain Girl had brought me along uninvited, I never felt like an interloper. Is this sense of commonality the result of shared love of these mountains or is it from the attainment of retirement age? Each of us mentioned a love of some kind of craft, joy of reading, and delight in this beautiful place where we live. While I may not cross paths with these women again, it seems kindred spirits abound in these hills.