Just a Few More Days

I got my wish for a few Indian summer days. We have had three glorious days. Today it was so warm I walked in short sleeves. I even sat on my deck to read while the leaves drifted down on my hair and brushed by me like ghosts. Just a little distracting!

It was a day for household chores: laundry, making soup, cleaning out the refrigerator... that last has been like a recurring mantra this year. Every time I go away I have to clean out all the perishables. Hence the soup, great for using up leftovers. 

Two days ago in the midst of some trees stripped completely bare, and others that were thinning, I saw one huge well-rounded oak tree completely green, not a leaf changed. The very next day, it looked like it was slightly tinted with rust on one side. Today its leaves are changing quickly, but not to any bright color, just turning brown and falling. Curious how some trees drop their leaves so quickly as if tired of working, ready for rest, and others hold onto their leaves so tightly that some never fall until the winds of winter take them down.

I had heard that we can get allergies as we get older and it appears that I have. I never had allergic reactions until the last few years. Usually I am only bothered in the fall, and then not every day. I get a hoarseness in my throat and a drippy nose. Perhaps that was the cause for the scratchiness in my right eye because it has not bothered at all for the last few days. That’s a relief.

Son Jon called me from Hawaii today. He said they did not need as much recovery time from their Trek as they had anticipated they might. They are feeling rested and full of energy. The trail was expected to be rocky and require clambering up and down, but they had not anticipated how muddy it would be. What he described sounded like a soggy mess with debris and manure and it did not get much better as they went along. Of course the rain did not help improve it either. They are thinking they might do another trek in a year or two. Adventurous souls.

Speaking of adventurous souls, a distant cousin has written on Facebook about the first days for her family in Ethiopia where they have gone as missionaries. To go there on your own, out of commitment and calling, is a noble task. To do it with husband and eight children is a miracle. That is what she calls it. After weeks of preparation and hundreds of decisions, she is feeling “down”. Great stressors (like moving a continent away) can lead to being “down” or depressed. As time goes by I know her faith, as well as adjustment to her new life, will show her the opportunities she seeks to help this country that she loves. It is quite different from the life she knew in Montana. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to try and manage a household of ten in a city where one knows only a few words of the spoken language. She is braver than I.

I’ll be driving back to Cleveland to see Dr. Lass this week. I’ll probably be there a few days to take care of some business and than return home. It will be good to be home for more than a few days or a couple weeks at a time.

Be seeing you...

Anticipation - in Positive Mode

I’m getting caught up, little by little. Today I went to the dentist to have a loose crown cemented back on. This is the second time for this procedure. I hope it stays this time. Otherwise there will be another and much more expensive procedure to do. Next: my annual mammogram appointment.

My right eye is not so happy this week. I get more irritation in it and have been using regular eye drops in it almost every day. At first I thought I was doing too much close work and when it was irritated, I put my computer away for several hours. Then I thought it might be the fact that the heat is on in the house and the air is dryer. But when I woke this morning and the eye was “scratchy” when I woke up, I realized it probably was not close work, nor dry air in the house, more likely the Fuchs syndrome. I will ask Dr. Lass about it when I see him next week. I am hoping this is only temporary.

This week I made another favorite, parsnip soup. Again, this is pretty easy. Peel two parsnips. I buy the bigger parsnips as they tend to be sweeter. Slice the parsnips into quarter inch slices and put in about 2 cups of water to boil. While they are cooking, saute onion and thinly sliced carrots in olive oil and when the carrots are softened some but not quite tender, put the mixture into a blender. When parsnips are soft, add parsnips and their water to the blender. (I usually put the parsnips in the blender first, reserving the liquid to add, as needed, so I can adjust the thickness of the soup. However, the soup will usually take most of the liquid) Add salt and pepper to taste. It makes a thick, filling soup and a tasty way to add another vegetable to your diet.

Amy says all medical bills are fiction until you can ferret out their meaning. I would say not all of them, but I have been calling on two of them for several weeks and finally got clarification on one. I don’t mind paying for procedures that I have had, but I like to know what I’m paying for, and medical bills are often hard to decipher. I did have good luck calling Medicare for an explanation and, to my surprise, talked to a knowledgeable and willing-to-be-patient person, who eventually answered all of my questions to my satisfaction. I would say this is one of my better interactions with Medicare. They have improved their customer service quality since last we spoke.

The temperature got down into the 30s last night. It was very windy and pretty cool out yesterday, and I did not walk. Today I will walk. There are several lovely trees retaining their orange leaves that I look forward to seeing.

The raised flower beds have been cleared; all the dead stalks and fallen twigs carted away. Nothing blooming now except my rose bush and the white mums. I cut some roses and mums and brought them inside for a vase on my table. The roses smell so sweet, I can’t resist taking in a good whiff of them every tIme I go by. While the garden is settling in for a long winter nap, it rests in expectation, pregnant with tulips in the spring.

Be seeing you...

Fall Is For Corn Chowder

Another week just went slipping by. I am so happy I got home in time to enjoy the trees in peak of their colors before the week of rain we’ve had. The rain and wind stripped so many leaves that bare branches are visible in some places. I can even catch a glimpse of the pond behind my house which has been completely leaf-screened all summer.

This time of year lends itself to different recipes, have you noticed? Pumpkin pie comes to mind immediately. But this past week when I went grocery shopping, the last of this year’s corn on the cob was available in packages of 5 ears each. No way could I eat that much corn on the cob, but I knew just what I wanted to do with it.

Most of the things I cook are favorites and I know them by heart and never open a recipe book. However, when I pulled it off the shelf, the Joy of Cooking still had the marker at the page for Corn Chowder from the last time I made it, probably last fall.

It isn’t hard to do and it’s so-o-o good! Bacon, onion, celery, potatoes, all diced, added to saved water from boiling the corn the day before. While that simmered, I cut the corn off three long cobs, and scraped the cobs for the juices. Mix flour and milk for thickening, add the corn, and then several cups of hot milk. Salt and pepper to taste. Yumm. I had two quarts of soup, one for the fridge and one for the freezer. Nothing like a hot bowl of soup on a gloomy day to warm your tummy - and your hands around the bowl.

Jon and Beth sent along a picture of themselves, eating lunch in a restaurant, quite a change from trekking fare. They look no worse for their long walk. Jon, maybe a little thinner; Beth still fiercely toned and not even sunburned. They promise pictures once they get a chance to organize them. They're headed for Hawaii to soak up some sun.

Something about the way the wind swirls around my house, always causes it to dump leaves right in front of my back door. I keep sweeping them up so they don’t get tracked into the house or obstruct the opening of the door. But when, as now, the two giant sycamore trees start shedding, the leaves really pile up. These leaves, as big or bigger than my hand, are tough. They don’t break up easily. Every fall I haul huge plastic-sheet loads of them to the curb for city pick-up. Some years I will have a heap out there 3 ft. high and 20 ft. long. But it’s a chore I don’t really mind.

Last night for the first time in two weeks I did not have to tape the shield to my left eye at bedtime. And the frequency of eye drops has again tapered off some. Less than two weeks until it is time to return to Dr. Lass for my final check-up.

And then, new glasses!

Be seeing you...

Yippee! I'm Sprung!

Not that I don’t enjoy being with Amy and Barry; they have long been my favorite stopping place on my trips to New York and back and the welcome mat is always out! But I am anxious to get home and plant tulips and rake leaves and assess the damage the squirrels made to the re-seeded grass. There should be a few more days yet that I can sit on the deck and enjoy the colors and the sunshine.

Dr. Lass reported yesterday that the swelling in my eye had reduced - not all gone but - enough to his satisfaction that he returned the eye drop frequency to the normal post-op gradually diminishing regimen. I only have to put drops in 3x a day instead of six! That’s a treat.

Amy and I have decided that, In addition to being renowned for his work with Fuchs Distrophy, Dr. Lass has a great interest in the Arts. On past visits he has off-handedly mentioned Monet’s changing colors in his paintings and when he had laryngitis, he said he was glad he did not have to sing La Boheme that night. This week he told us that he is a member of the World Doctors Orchestra. They do fund-raising concerts around the world and he sounded excited that they would be going for the first time to Central America, in November, Santiago, Chile, in fact, and then to Patagonia. “Dressed in a tux and standing on a glacier”, he said, with a little smile. I asked him what instrument he played and he said cello. He is a tall man and I can just “see” him with his long legs wrapped around his cello. I’ll bet he plays First Chair. ☺

Tomorrow I am heading back to Covington. I will have to return to Cleveland in three weeks for my final checkup and I will not get my new glasses prescription until then but I can manage with my old glasses for now. It’s awkward taking the glasses off and putting them on frequently, and when I wear my solar shields outside, I look like a recluse hiding from the world. The people who speak to me on my walks must be really brave; some won’t even look at me, let alone respond to my hello. The solar shields are wonderful, though, because they never strain my eyes and I don’t have to worry about anything getting into my eyes; they are entirely enclosed.

Jon and Beth have only two more days of actual trekking. Then they will take a two-day bus ride back to Paro, Bhutan, a plane to Bangkok and a plane to Hawaii. Hawaii is their treat after the Trek, a time to soak up the sun. There may be sunshine where they are now but Jon wrote a day or so ago that at 16,000+ ft. there was ice on their tent in the morning. Makes me shiver just thinking about it.

Like the birds, I am heading south. Be seeing you...

Ghost Kitties

 Here at Amy and Barry’s house, we have other occupants whom we see seldom and usually just as they are rushing past us to get away - and under the couch. I was here a whole week before I even caught sight of one. 

  Amy explained that they had taken in two feral cats whom their cat sitter had rescued and had kept for a year. Janet, the cat sitter, was aware that Amy and Barry lost both of their cats some time ago and had not replaced them. Janet was moving and could not take the cats with her across country. Amy and Barry first agreed to take them as foster cats until the folks who had agreed to take them got moved into their new house. But you know what happened, or you can guess. The other folks backed out. But, never mind. As Barry says, we aren’t really foster cat people; they become our kitties. And that is what has happened.

Since the cats have lived on the street, they are afraid of a lot of things: loud noises, sudden movement, any approach to them. At first they only came out to eat at night and hid under a chair or the couch all day. But being cats they are curious. Gradually they came out in the day time to look us over. Now we usually see Tabitha every day; she will sit in the window across the room as long as I am seated and make no sudden moves. Bunny is much more shy; she is the flash of quicksilver rushing by, if I see her at all.

Last night as I sat on the couch watching TV, idly swinging a cat feather-toy on the end of a wand, Tabitha came out to play. She had a good time; I think I wore her out.

Different things wear people out. Very loud noise levels and crowds of people wear me out. Amy was talking about something she saw on the internet about introverts getting their energy from nature and quiet, while extroverts like plenty of company and talk and action. I have to admit I’m more of an introvert. Even though I enjoy people, I prefer to talk to them one-on-one or in a small group. I go all day without the radio or TV on; I prefer it that way. It drains rather than increases my energy. Now in the evening when I am ready to relax, I enjoy the TV - well at least I enjoy some shows, but if there’s nothing I like, the TV is off. 

Isn’t it curious that we are so different in how we re-energize ourselves. It calls for some compromises with the people we live with. We can share the other’s activities - but only up to a point usually. Accepting who we are and what the other person needs to get energized and feel happy goes a long way towards a peaceful co-existence. 

We are all giving the Ghost Kitties lots of space, letting them acclimate in their own time. We would love to pet them, but they don’t want to be petted - yet. And we respect their space and their need to feel safe.

Tomorrow it’s back to see Dr. Lass. I hope he has a better report this time. Be seeing you...

...And For Mourning

  October is beautiful but there is no way we can avoid that it signals the end of summer, a time of relaxation, a different cadence to life. October has always been a significant month for me, long before my sister’s death. My mother’s birthday was in October. All the rest of the family had birthdays in winter or spring or summer. But Mom’s birthday was in October.

   I imagine her parents, in their apartment in New York City, at the time she was conceived. They had not been here in this country long. Perhaps just long enough to have something to celebrate - a place of their own - a community of other immigrants that spoke their language - the launching of his small accordion business. I like to think she was conceived in much happiness and love, even if on a bitter cold January night.

   Like the passing of the seasons, Mom’s life has passed, and sister Sally’s too. They were always so close in life, I am sure they are joined wherever they are. And my life is more and more often called upon to grieve, not just in October, but all throughout the year as old friends, old ways, old places, old times are gone and I must come to terms with a new context for my living. We all grieve. Sometimes consciously and sometimes not.

   Today I am grieving the loss of my lenses. Isn’t that silly? They weren’t doing such a good job for me and yet they were an intimate part of me from the time I was born. I am conscious of the fact that in place of those bits of me, I have substitutes, bits of other combinations of matter that can do the job of seeing better than mine could. (I wonder what they did with my old lenses...)

   Somehow it seems unfair that all this grieving has to come at a time in our lives when we have less stamina, less energy, more distraction, and fractious memory. But the one thing we do have is time and it takes time to grieve, time to discover new routines, new friends, new communities, time to re-stitch the fabric of our lives. We have been doing this over and over; it’s just that it becomes more apparent as we get older and the losses come faster.

  Don’t think for a moment I am not grateful for my improved eyesight or for the skill of the surgeon who made it possible. I am grateful - and looking forward to many more years of reading and living a full life.

  Speaking of that surgeon, Dr. Lass was not so happy with the check-up on my eye yesterday. A man of few words, he said nothing as he examined my eye. He made his notes and then turned and gave me the sheet of instructions for the next week. He increased Fred’s drops from 4x a day to 6x a day, Dick and Flo to keep their same schedule as before. When I asked why the change, he said we had to get the swelling down; the Fuchs had caused some swelling.

  So I have a chart. Drops six times a day. Maybe I’ll not be returning home as soon as I thought. But we keep on keeping on. It’s what we do.

Be seeing you....

Autumn's For Celebration

Yesterday’s travel back to Cleveland went without a hitch. It turned out to be a pretty fall day. When I started out from Covington, the hills were hazy and there was an overcast. When I got to Columbus a couple hours later, the sun was breaking through and the temperature rose immediately from 54, which it had been all morning, to 58, and from there on it climbed slowly into the 60s.

In the sunshine the colors became brighter as I drove north. Once, looking at a hillside, it brought back a strong memory of the hills as I drove out of Salt Lake City in September 2009. It was raining lightly and they looked like a lovely paisley shawl. Could it possibly have been only five years ago that I took that trip west? It seems like it must have been longer ago. 

Autumn is Nature’s way of celebrating the end of the harvest. What have I reaped this year? A week in Hawaii, two lengthy visits to relatives in New York, a study tour in Greece with a visit to dear friends there, a 50th anniversary party, sharing the excitement of family trekking in the Himalayas, better eyesight and new glasses for me, a couple months staying with my daughter and son-in-law, a scanner that works with my computer, 14 pints of applesauce canned, another milestone reached in settling Sally’s estate. I’d say it has been a productive year! (When I go to the chiropracter, about once every few months, he always asks what project I’m working on now. There's always some project, he knows.)

The colors of the fields, though muted, in shades of amber to siena to mauve, and every variation in between, are as pleasant to the eye as the turning leaves. I hear the migrating birds; I don’t see them, but I hear their unfamiliar calls. The squirrels are busily burying their hoards of winter food, much of it in my newly re-seeded patch of lawn. Any earth that is loose is immediately claimed as their pantry. If I plant flowers, they dig right next to it to hide their latest prize.

Speaking of planting, I have a whole bag of tulip bulbs to plant when I return home. Something to look forward to. But that will be a couple weeks yet. 

Today I am having surgery on my left eye. We did not have to get up so early this time. I am to arrive at 12:55 for pre-op preparations. Since I can’t have anything to eat or drink this morning, I have busied myself solving a problem with the Family Tree program on my computer. It insisted on recording one marriage twice and was lousing up the print-outs. In the end I had to remove some info and then put it in again. But it kept me focused and occupied and helped me not to think of food. 

Dick and Flo and Fred have been reinstated and await me on my nightstand. I don't look forward to their ministrations, nor to the eye shield and the sticky tape, but this too will pass. And before I know it I will have new glasses! What a blessing that will be. 

Be seeing you....sometime.