A Wishin', A Hopin' and A Dreamin'

Right about now I am SO dreaming of summer. The thing I look forward to doing the most, believe it or not, is mowing the lawn. The birds chirping...the warm sun shining down on my skin...and a gentle, cool breeze, as I walk along behind the mower row by row while it cuts and shapes the grass into a work of art.

I know it sounds a little odd, but I get a sort of strange satisfaction from cutting, shaving and mowing. I think it started years ago as I watched my Dad give my younger brother, Alan, his haircuts. It was a family occasion as we all gathered around and watched precious little red clippings of hair fall from Alan's head. I watched carefully how Dad held and angled the clippers; going around the ears and up the neck and back of the head. I knew just how to do it and I knew where the clippers were kept, and it seemed only natural that I try it out myself.

No one was going to let a five-year old with clippers loose on their hair, so I had to resort to practicing on dolls. And having three sisters with dolls, I got a lot of practice! My sister, Rosalin, is still lamenting her beloved dolls...all with buzz haircuts. For Christmas, instead of getting a doll with hair, I began to get dolls with formed and painted hair...nothing that could be cut, shaved or clipped.

I still love to cut and I'm counting the days until I'm out there in the sunshine with the lawnmower and the weedwacker.

Teddy

I have a huge kitty named Teddy, short for Teddy Bear. He is twice as big and heavy as any other cat and he has long fluffy black fur. When I first got Teddy as a six-week old kitten, it didn't take me long to figure out that he was extremely shy and skittish. During the daytime I have to leave the garage open a few inches as an escape hatch for Teddy. If he hears a loud noise or sees a deer, or if a car drives by, then like a flash Teddy is gone to the garage for safety.

One puzzling thing about Teddy is that as soon as it gets dark at night he suddenly turns brave and wants to wander around outside; up in the woods and even down the road to the neighbor's house. What I don't like is the fact that night-time is the most dangerous time here on the edge of the woods. Coyotes have been spotted and heard howling and yipping as close as just out the window. Big owls are always on the lookout for mice, voles and kitties. One evening last summer I happened to look out the window and see a wolf!

Last night before bedtime I let Teddy outside for a little break before putting him back in the garage for the night. I tried to keep an eye on him from the windows, but before I knew it he had vanished. We are in the middle of a cold spell here and it was only about 11 degrees outside, so I bundled up with my warmest coat, winter scarf and gloves. I grabbed the flashlight and out into the dark frigid night I went. I was surprised to see Teddy sitting just outside of the garage. But as soon as he saw me he started running down the driveway and down the road as fast as he could. Since the roads are covered with ice I had to take it slowly but I could still see his dark form scrambling across the white snow and ice. We have over a foot of hard crusty snow everywhere and it’s so hard that it can be walked on without sinking in. Teddy left the icy road and took off over the crusty snow to the neighbor’s house with me in pursuit. I got better traction on the snow so I was able to keep up with him. Finally realizing that I wasn’t giving up, Teddy stopped and crouched down waiting for me to catch him.

Making our way back across the crusty snow I had to step over and climb down a big snow berm to get down to the icy road. The snow was so hard that I slipped and when my feet reached the ice below, they continued to slip and I found myself flat on my back, looking up into the black sky, still clutching Teddy. It was not my activity of choice; lying out in the road at night in freezing temperatures stargazing.

Inauguration

I've never heard such a commotion about a presidential inauguration before. There seems to be an excitement and a hubbub that I am certainly not caught up in and that I really don't understand. The nightly news is citing school children who are planning trips back to Washington DC to see the event. Church leaders, celebrities and blacks all over the nation are making the trek. It's been reported that three million people are expected to converge upon the capital! It's like they are all goin' to Mecca. I picture in my mind a Muslim temple where all of the thousands of worshippers are bowed down in rows with their foreheads touching the floor. It seems like that is the reaction and frame of mind of the masses in this country (and probably the world) about the up-coming inauguration. The words "brainwashed", and "misled" and "desperate", are words that come to mind as I picture these masses. And I wonder how this new president is going to save them all. Instead of excitement over this "historic event" I feel a dread and fear about the future with this new leader in charge.

Emergency Room

I'd had a pain in my abdomen since Sunday and it was now Friday morning. My regular doctor hadn't been able to help me, so after a sleepless night of moaning and pacing the decision was finally made to go to the emergency room.

There weren't very many ahead of me in the waiting area. But I still had 45 minutes to observe; a lady with a broken hand, a sick baby - possibly with pneumonia, an older lady in a wheelchair that couldn't breath (she was given priority and taken right in), and a few other pale and sickly faces.

After giving my medical history, insurance information, being given a bed, a gown, an IV and after filling a cup, I was wheeled down the hall to have a CT Scan taken. I was surprised that I was being taken care of in such a timely manner. But then I was returned to my room to await test results. I laid there shivering as I listened to and caught glimpses of suffering and trauma as they passed my room for the next two hours.

About every 15 minutes someone would arrive by way of the ambulance. I saw and heard the noise of paramedics as they passed by with silent patients strapped to gurneys. Since the nurses station was right across from my room I heard words like: "diverticulitis", "car accident", "two ambulances on the way".

Finally, the doctor came to deliver my test results. The CT Scan showed nothing unusual and the urine test was negative. She had no idea what the problem might be and suggested that I see a specialist. After all of my worrying and suffering, I was shocked to hear this news. I was now being sent home with no answers or help. If the emergency room couldn't help me, who on earth could on a Friday night!?

In shock and still shivering I hurriedly put my warm clothes back on. I had to wait for my release papers and for someone to take out the IV that was never used. Leaning back in the bed I had another 30 minutes to observe and listen. Instead of feeling cheated that some big illness hadn't been discovered, I gradually began to feel gratitude that I was getting out of there. I wouldn't be admitted, or scheduled for surgery or any more torture.

Finally I was given the okay to leave. On my way down the long hall to the big double doors, I walked by rooms with people in hospital gowns and serious faces. I was the lucky one. I was set free! I was walking out of there on my own two feet!

Walking out through the big double doors, I observed that the waiting room was packed. Every seat was filled and all suffering, anxious eyes turned to me as I gratefully exited. As if to reinforce one last time my great fortune, I passed a car that had just arrived delivering a woman who I was sure would be "taken right in". I won't describe the tone of her voice or the stiff angle of her body or the redness of her face. Suffice it to say, my step was quickened as I made my way to the car. The 4 hours of waiting and the dull ache in my abdomen seemed like a small price to pay for getting out of that place under my own power and driving away.

When the lights go out

Last night around 9 PM the electricity went off with a loud jolt. There I sat in the dark in front of the televison holding the remote pointed at a dark screen. Immediately flashing through my mind were all of the things I should have been doing that might have prepared me more for this disaster, other than wasting my time watching TV. Who knew how long we would be without power? It could be several days! Since it was Saturday, I should have done some vacuuming. I should have cleaned the bathroom and I really needed to make bread. Nightly Scripture reading had been postponed until it was now too late. And after a day of shoveling snow and using the snowblower, a shower might have been nice, but it was not possible now. I would not go to bed smelling very sweetly. In these dark moments I also felt gratitude for some of the things I had done that day. I was so glad I had started the dishwasher and now all the dishes in the house were clean. I had just done two loads of laundry, so all the clothes in the house were clean.

I'm wondering if this is how I'll feel at the Second Coming. Will deeds left undone immediately parade through my mind, followed by sorrow and regret that the time is now past for any preparation. Hopefully I can learn from this little experience.

The lights came back on about three hours later and today I have another chance to take care of my duties, to make preparations, to clear my conscience so that when the lights go out next time, hopefully I'll be ready.

Thanksgiving

As usual, my eyes were bigger than my stomach on Thanksgiving Day. Roger and I were invited to my sister, Gayla's, house for dinner where a veritable feast was placed before us. The turkey was done to perfection, the yams were candied and sweet, the gravy was out of this world, and it was all surrounded, topped and mingled with stuffing, cranberries, salads of every kind, home-made rolls and pies of every description. I ate slowly, savoring every bite and hoping to avoid my usual heartburn. I did well. My stomach was a little bit tight and uncomfortable but I was okay.

And then along came little Sydney. It started with bouncing her on my knees. It progressed to the game where I held her and pretended to drop her, but only her upper half - I held on firmly to her legs. Before I knew what happened we were on the hard-wood floor where she had me pinned. Everytime I tried to get up she would run for me and force me down again. Laying down flat is the worst thing you can do for potential heart-burn, right after eating a big dinner. Thankfully, Sydney was eventually distracted and I was able to get up from the floor. By this time the heartburn was taking a firm hold, I was exhausted, and I was even feeling a little dizzy. It was all so fun, but I knew I needed to get home to my Zantac, heating pad and recliner.

Sydney looks so cute and innocent, but watch out...she'll work you over.

Sleep walker

Apparently I'm a sleepwalker from way back. One time when I was about five years old I woke up in the middle of the night standing up in bed. My three sisters, who shared the same room, had turned on the light and were staring at me. They said I'd been jumping on my bed as well as leaping from one bed to the other.

Another time I got up in the morning, looked in the mirror only to discover that my whole face was covered with red lipstick and eyebrow pencil. I could never get anyone to admit to doing it, so I must conclude that I did it myself.

Years later I had a dream in which I remembered seeing all of my cut-offs and shorts in the trunk of my car. What an odd thing to dream, I thought. Throughout that summer I noticed that my shorts and cut-offs where nowhere to be found. For some reason shortly after that I had an occasion to open the trunk of my car and was astounded as I gazed upon all of my cut-offs and shorts neatly laid out, just like in my dream.

Within the last year or two I've gotten up in the morning to discover objects in unusual places; like the container of dry hot chocolate mix in the microwave - not once, but twice! And sometimes after a night's sleep I find myself with new cuts, scrapes and bruises. (my husband claims he didn't do it) Quite often in the mornings I feel very unrested and have trouble staying awake during the day.


For all the times that evidence has been found of my sleep-walking I wonder how many times I've walked at night when no evidence was found. I can only hope that I don't leave the house, drive anywhere, or use my shotgun.