Oh my.... September already and I haven't posted anything worthwhile in so long, in fact I haven't posted at all in much too long. Confession -- I was caught up in the fast-paced, jot it down abbreviated style of Facebook. Meanwhile my soul was whispering, "Time for some reflection, some soft writing, some from your heart revelations." So here I am. Heart connected to hands, fingertips poised over the keyboard....
It was a hang-on-to-your hats summer. Dad had emergency pacemaker surgery. I flew down to be with him and there were many poignant moments when memories flooded back, and I wondered how did I get where I am, why do things have to change, where am I going now? Washing dishes at his kitchen sink and looking out on his backyard, laying in bed staring at the ceiling fan in the house I grew up in, hearing the same familiar screen door shut when he went out for his morning paper.... Somehow when we get older those "in the moment" recordings don't occur as often. Is it just me, or does everyone feel they have to make more of an effort to record those snapshots of life?
Two weeks after that I was back at Dad's again -- this time for the little reunion my sisters and I have once a year. We take turns having it at each other's house or finding a vacation spot. This year we went to Dad's and cleaned, helped him pick out paint and carpet for his house, made sure he was obeying doctor's orders and not overdoing it. Saw friends we hadn't seen in a long time, put together puzzles, and caught up with the craziness of what "really" goes on in our lives.
The time always goes too fast. We come home and roll out another school year (we all work in education). September is here, and I feel as out of practice writing my blog journal here as a child who has been at summer camp and once again faces a blank page and a freshly sharpened pencil.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Close Encounter with An Outlaw
"Public Enemies" is a recently released movie, starring Johnny Depp, about the notorious bank robber from the Depression Era, John Dillinger. The name triggered a memory, so I went to the bookshelves and dusted off an old collection of family biographies I'd helped assemble years ago.
Scanning through my Uncle Bernard's autobiography, I found this entry:
"One night I was hitch-hiking back to Toledo [from Chicago], and a guy picked me up. We were in Indiana and drove over the Ohio line. He drove up to what looked like an old farm house where a single bright light hung in front of the garage. I had thought perhaps it was a little gas station, it was so close to the road, yet it didn't look like one. We talked about things and where I went to school, but he didn't say much about what he did. Then we got out of the car, and as we did so another man, who could be taken as the driver's father, appeared. He said, 'Well, how did it go?' The driver said, 'Fine.' The he said to me, 'Would you like to see my tools?' I told him I would, so he opened the trunk of his car and there was a beautiful wooden tool box that contained tools. Now I've seen watchmakers' tools and machinists' tools and construction tools. But this man's tools were a mixture of all of them--not a typical collection. He said he could surely do a lot of things with those tools. He opened the garage and we went in. I still remember this guy's face with a small, puckery mouth. Finally I thanked him for the ride and walked back to the highway, where I caught a bus on to Toledo. It was not long after this trip that John Dillinger was shot and killed. Dillinger was a notorious bank robber who hit banks in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. He had a couple cronies and they would all disappear after blowing a safe. I started thinking about this whole episode. I have no doubt, after seeing pictures of Dillinger, that he is who I had ridden with, and that those tools were used for drilling into safes!"
Sunday, July 19, 2009
The Rodeo
The California State Rodeo, held locally in Salinas, is a big deal around here. Locals either make a day of it, or avoid it all together. We only attended once before, a few years ago. Watching grown men chase a terrified calf around a pen in order to put a pair of pants on it wasn't entertainment to us, so we didn't go back. However, this year we decided to give it a second chance. Frozen yogurt and ice cream in hand, we made our way to the grandstand....
Bucking broncos: Some cowboys made it to the sound of the horn...
Bucking broncos: Some cowboys made it to the sound of the horn...
...and some didn't.
We were always happy for the steers that "got away".
Showing the horses running free, this was when the announcer talked about how much they loved their animals (appeasing the animal rights enthusiasts in us):
What would a rodeo be without country music?
And just in case you forgot your hat...
For sale: everything from kettle corn and barbeque burgers to belts and signs (we had to giggle over the sign with Obama's name -- as if it was as common as the name David or Kelly).
To Blog or To Facebook?...
...That is the question.
I found myself in So. California this past week, taking care of my dad who wound up in ICU last Sat. morning. He had a scare with his heart, and they decided to put a pacemaker in. Considering he is a tremendous exercise enthusiast, it was hard to imagine his heart giving him trouble. He bicycles an average of 20 miles/day. But he is 86 years old, and sadly our bodies do wear out. He is doing just great, up and around!
After cleaning his house, grocery shopping, and running errands for him, I found myself with time on my hands so logged in to my facebook page. It was something I created several months ago, primarily so I could see the photos in my daughters' albums. I didn't check it very often -- mainly when they told me they had uploaded some new pictures. This past week, I started logging in daily. I discovered I had several "friend requests". It was fun to reconnect with people I hadn't heard from since high school and from organizations I'd been involved with. Soon I discovered many of them had all sorts of online farms, African safari campgrounds, and hatching eggs.
The next thing I knew I was gathering eggs from friends' sites. Horses neigh and sheep bleat when I plant rows of strawberries on my farm in Farmville. A friend sent me an elephant for my safari camp. It was all very cute! There is pleasure in doing some things for the pure nonsense of them.
But one morning I learned that one of my hatched eggs had run away! My strawberries had withered because I didn't harvest them in time and I had to replant the field. On top of that, termites had invaded my friend's safari camp so I had to help her out. An hour had evaporated into thin air before I knew it! These facebook games could be addictive. I thought about my REAL yard, hedges needing trimmed, deck needing restained; the REAL children in Africa and other countries that I'm due to write to through child sponsorship organizations. Yes, the practical side of me began whispering in my ear -- hey, don't you have enough to do without plowing a virtual field? Well, at least with the African Safari game you earn REAL money to send mosquito nets to children in Africa. And do we always need to be doing something constructive? What about simple relaxation, engaging in something not on our "to do lists"?
Checking in on all my friends' facebook pages is like going to a party -- making the rounds, commenting on this and that. At the end of the day, I was ready to come back to my blog. Time alone, where I can just write all my thoughts about a topic. No expectations. Just a blank page and a keyboard. Ahhh. It's good to be home.
I found myself in So. California this past week, taking care of my dad who wound up in ICU last Sat. morning. He had a scare with his heart, and they decided to put a pacemaker in. Considering he is a tremendous exercise enthusiast, it was hard to imagine his heart giving him trouble. He bicycles an average of 20 miles/day. But he is 86 years old, and sadly our bodies do wear out. He is doing just great, up and around!
After cleaning his house, grocery shopping, and running errands for him, I found myself with time on my hands so logged in to my facebook page. It was something I created several months ago, primarily so I could see the photos in my daughters' albums. I didn't check it very often -- mainly when they told me they had uploaded some new pictures. This past week, I started logging in daily. I discovered I had several "friend requests". It was fun to reconnect with people I hadn't heard from since high school and from organizations I'd been involved with. Soon I discovered many of them had all sorts of online farms, African safari campgrounds, and hatching eggs.
The next thing I knew I was gathering eggs from friends' sites. Horses neigh and sheep bleat when I plant rows of strawberries on my farm in Farmville. A friend sent me an elephant for my safari camp. It was all very cute! There is pleasure in doing some things for the pure nonsense of them.
But one morning I learned that one of my hatched eggs had run away! My strawberries had withered because I didn't harvest them in time and I had to replant the field. On top of that, termites had invaded my friend's safari camp so I had to help her out. An hour had evaporated into thin air before I knew it! These facebook games could be addictive. I thought about my REAL yard, hedges needing trimmed, deck needing restained; the REAL children in Africa and other countries that I'm due to write to through child sponsorship organizations. Yes, the practical side of me began whispering in my ear -- hey, don't you have enough to do without plowing a virtual field? Well, at least with the African Safari game you earn REAL money to send mosquito nets to children in Africa. And do we always need to be doing something constructive? What about simple relaxation, engaging in something not on our "to do lists"?
Checking in on all my friends' facebook pages is like going to a party -- making the rounds, commenting on this and that. At the end of the day, I was ready to come back to my blog. Time alone, where I can just write all my thoughts about a topic. No expectations. Just a blank page and a keyboard. Ahhh. It's good to be home.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Unfireworks
Where has this month gone? It has been a whirlwind! Haven't had time to blog much and looks like I'll be snowed under until summer school wraps up in a couple weeks. But I'm thrilled that Ash has moved back home with Lys and me after three years of living in England.
Her flight was scheduled to arrive around 2:30 last Sat. so I pulled into the parking garage of the San Francisco International Airport right on time. It was incredibly busy and the arrival sign said her flight was delayed half an hour. Finally, it flashed "arrived", then a bit later "in customs". The passengers began pouring out of the tunnel from customs, hugs and greetings echoing in the terminal, until I looked around (about 4:00) and realized there were only about 10 of us there. At last Ash appeared, carry-on bag in tow. I asked, "Where are your bags?" She said, "They didn't make it on the flight". She'd had a horrible day....
It started early that morning when she left the row house where she had been living, with sad goodbyes to her best friends/roommates. She had checked the tube station schedule to make sure all were open, lugged her three suitcases to the first station, and got as far as the Jubilee Station. There she was informed the station was closed -- she would have to take a bus! Buses, of course, are much slower, and she was not familiar with their routes and connections like she is with the subway. Somehow, despite the hassles and rude replies from grumpy bus drivers, she managed to arrive at Heathrow Airport -- the last person to check in. They took her two check-on bags, mentioning that their conveyor belt was not working. She usually gets to the airport in time to have a little breakfast, but because the bus had taken so long, she had no time to spare. A few hours later she ate the dinky meal offered on the plane -- tired, hungry, and already missing her pals.
So when she arrived in SF, she was even hungrier, and the news that her luggage hadn't made it on the flight was disconcerting. I took her out for a good dinner in Palo Alto on the way home, we came home, put on our jammies, and relaxed with TV. Her bags showed up on our doorstep two days later, and life is getting back to normal for her.
Next week is the 4th of July and I haven't had time to investigate this yet, but rumor has it that Monterey is out of moola so there will be no fireworks. :( Hmmmm. Stay tuned for our 4th of July unfireworks show.
Her flight was scheduled to arrive around 2:30 last Sat. so I pulled into the parking garage of the San Francisco International Airport right on time. It was incredibly busy and the arrival sign said her flight was delayed half an hour. Finally, it flashed "arrived", then a bit later "in customs". The passengers began pouring out of the tunnel from customs, hugs and greetings echoing in the terminal, until I looked around (about 4:00) and realized there were only about 10 of us there. At last Ash appeared, carry-on bag in tow. I asked, "Where are your bags?" She said, "They didn't make it on the flight". She'd had a horrible day....
It started early that morning when she left the row house where she had been living, with sad goodbyes to her best friends/roommates. She had checked the tube station schedule to make sure all were open, lugged her three suitcases to the first station, and got as far as the Jubilee Station. There she was informed the station was closed -- she would have to take a bus! Buses, of course, are much slower, and she was not familiar with their routes and connections like she is with the subway. Somehow, despite the hassles and rude replies from grumpy bus drivers, she managed to arrive at Heathrow Airport -- the last person to check in. They took her two check-on bags, mentioning that their conveyor belt was not working. She usually gets to the airport in time to have a little breakfast, but because the bus had taken so long, she had no time to spare. A few hours later she ate the dinky meal offered on the plane -- tired, hungry, and already missing her pals.
So when she arrived in SF, she was even hungrier, and the news that her luggage hadn't made it on the flight was disconcerting. I took her out for a good dinner in Palo Alto on the way home, we came home, put on our jammies, and relaxed with TV. Her bags showed up on our doorstep two days later, and life is getting back to normal for her.
Next week is the 4th of July and I haven't had time to investigate this yet, but rumor has it that Monterey is out of moola so there will be no fireworks. :( Hmmmm. Stay tuned for our 4th of July unfireworks show.
Friday, June 19, 2009
A World Without Words
Speech-Language Pathologists are in short supply here, so during the summer when I have more free time I sometimes pick up some per diem hours at a couple of nursing facilities. It helps me stay current with the medical model of speech therapy vs. the educational model I work in the rest of the year. I used to be the Rehab. Director at one of the facilities I now go into, so there is a sense of familiarity to it. It brings back memories to walk those halls.
This past week I was asked to do an evaluation on a woman who had had a stroke. Her right leg and arm were paralyzed, and when I went in her room to talk to her, I realized she had significant aphasia. She could produce the phrase, "I can understand...." then she would shrug her shoulders and point to her mouth. So I finished her sentence, "...but you can't get the words out." "Yeah," she would nod emphatically. She had another ready phrase, "This is here", which she used to try to explain everything from where her cousin lived to what she had for breakfast, and a couple swear words. That was pretty much the extent of her expressive vocabulary. What was tough with this one was the woman is younger than I am -- she had her stroke at the age of 50. So we engaged in a serious game of 20 questions as I learned more about her and her (limited) abilities.
Dinner time came and she sat in her wheelchair in her room, across from her elderly roommate who was dozing in her chair. I asked her if she would like to eat in the dining room -- a bright, sunny room, with a big screen TV set to some upbeat sitcoms. She smiled and said, "yeah!" So I checked in with the nurse, got the go ahead, and wheeled her down to the dining room. Apparently no one had thought to ask her where she would prefer to eat in the 3-4 days she had been there. The nurse had her tray delivered, and I made sure she had a ring side seat to watch TV while she ate.
As I got ready to leave a little later, she motioned me over. She grabbed my hand, and with tears in her eyes, she managed to say, "Thank you." It moved me tremendously, and I thought about that moment all the way home. Now I'm at a loss for words to express what I learned, wrapped up in that afternoon we spent communicating.
This past week I was asked to do an evaluation on a woman who had had a stroke. Her right leg and arm were paralyzed, and when I went in her room to talk to her, I realized she had significant aphasia. She could produce the phrase, "I can understand...." then she would shrug her shoulders and point to her mouth. So I finished her sentence, "...but you can't get the words out." "Yeah," she would nod emphatically. She had another ready phrase, "This is here", which she used to try to explain everything from where her cousin lived to what she had for breakfast, and a couple swear words. That was pretty much the extent of her expressive vocabulary. What was tough with this one was the woman is younger than I am -- she had her stroke at the age of 50. So we engaged in a serious game of 20 questions as I learned more about her and her (limited) abilities.
Dinner time came and she sat in her wheelchair in her room, across from her elderly roommate who was dozing in her chair. I asked her if she would like to eat in the dining room -- a bright, sunny room, with a big screen TV set to some upbeat sitcoms. She smiled and said, "yeah!" So I checked in with the nurse, got the go ahead, and wheeled her down to the dining room. Apparently no one had thought to ask her where she would prefer to eat in the 3-4 days she had been there. The nurse had her tray delivered, and I made sure she had a ring side seat to watch TV while she ate.
As I got ready to leave a little later, she motioned me over. She grabbed my hand, and with tears in her eyes, she managed to say, "Thank you." It moved me tremendously, and I thought about that moment all the way home. Now I'm at a loss for words to express what I learned, wrapped up in that afternoon we spent communicating.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer
It's official--I'm on vacation! The school year ended last Friday, and until the middle of next week (when I do a four week, half day stint of summer school), I'm off work. This morning I spent time in my yard, trying to figure out which sprinklers were out of whack and leaving behind the dry patches. Lys is on a road trip this week, Ash moves back home from college the end of next week.... So I have a list of sweet nothings to do during this time off:
-sleep in (this usually means sleep 'til 7:00 instead of 6:00)
-listen to music (any kind I want, when I want)
-sing to the music (any way I want, when I want)
-work on photo albums and journals
-walk on the beach
-catch up with friends
-watch guilty-pleasure TV (including reruns of Desperate Housewives and sappy romantic comedies)
-send letters to my school children/friends in Africa
-yell out loud at the missed baskets while watching The Lakers vs. The Magic finals
-have a pedicure at the salon
-meditate
-write articles and poetry
-play with the dogs
-perfect the art of all the ways to serve strawberries
Ahhh--the sweet days of summer.
-sleep in (this usually means sleep 'til 7:00 instead of 6:00)
-listen to music (any kind I want, when I want)
-sing to the music (any way I want, when I want)
-work on photo albums and journals
-walk on the beach
-catch up with friends
-watch guilty-pleasure TV (including reruns of Desperate Housewives and sappy romantic comedies)
-send letters to my school children/friends in Africa
-yell out loud at the missed baskets while watching The Lakers vs. The Magic finals
-have a pedicure at the salon
-meditate
-write articles and poetry
-play with the dogs
-perfect the art of all the ways to serve strawberries
Ahhh--the sweet days of summer.
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