It’s Hot Here.

 It has gotten so hot outside that a few people have had their tires to blow out on them. Although I think climate change is a real thing; it is normal to have very hot weather here during the summer. Last summer, there were fires and all sorts of problems out west. We had a mild summer. Temperatures rarely got out of the 80s which is unusual here. Funny how the ocean currents in the Pacific El Nino and La Nina have such an effect on our weather. 

All the same, I hate 100 degree weather.

We have had a few evening thunder storms which is typical. With central heat and air, we have a bit of a buffer between the weather outside and my memories of summer as a child. No matter where you stood in the house I grew up in, you could look out a window. Houses were built to stay cool and circulate air. I remember during the day, curtains were drawn to keep sunlight out. Windows were open to keep the air moving. Large shade trees cooled the house in the summer. 

With their leaves gone in winter, sunlight heated the house. We all gathered in the kitchen for most of day during the winter. At one time, kitchens were a separate building outside the house. So if you had a fire in the kitchen, the entire house did not burn as a result. At night you covered up well with blankets and quilts to stay warm. Bedrooms were not heated. I remember very old people who would crawl under their homes to turn water off if the temperatures were going to be below freezing for a long time. No one wanted busted pipes.

My favorite memory as a child was running around shutting the window before a storm. I always liked the wildness of the winds. My older brother's neighbors are from California. Our storms instill a lot of fear in them. I find this amazing in that California has so much natural phenomenon, our little thunderstorms don't seem to compare. It is all in what you are used to I suppose.

I have been very lucky to never experience a tornado. I've had some be close. I've slept through winds that toppled large pecan trees. The funniest story which is not that funny if you experience it was a tornado that swept through in a neighboring area. No one was hurt. There was a lot of property damage. One man was swept out of his house but unharmed. He was drunk as a skunk and barely processed what happened.

On the back of my house under the eaves, a bird called a flycatcher has build a nest. I thought they had abandoned the nest last year. I have two cats that live on my back porch. They would watch the swift bird that was nervy enough to catch flies that were attracted to their left over cat food. They suddenly disappeared before a storm last year. I worried those two cats got their young.

This year, the nest was repaired. About a week ago, the nest was bustling with four smart aleck babies. They were on the edges, spreading their wings, obviously talking bird trash. That evening we had a big storm. The birds and their babies were gone the next morning. I guess mom and pop make haste when a storm brews and the cats move to a more sheltered spot. . And moves their family.

What I enjoyed the most is that the birds can be seen sitting on a fence post and flying back to a pear tree. I wonder where they all go after the storm each year. I have seen fly catchers in my side yard. With a horse farm near by, you know we got the flies. 

Nest with babies

I'm late for a very important date.

 I am so like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. The least thing that can distract me makes me late. The other day, I was ready to go to the doctor about an hour and a half early. I jokingly told my family I would probably be late. I began to play a video game on my phone, listen to the television and talk with one of my sisters. I look up and realize, if I did not get in the car right then, I would not be on time. 

I'm boogieing on down my driveway and I find it blocked by these guys. Well this male and female snake. Snakes are not hermaphrodites. I was hoping their procreating did not last thirty minutes. They were not distracted by me walking around them and telling them they needed to find a safer place. I mean, I would never drive over them.  It would have been very troubling to me to have driven down there and found where a car had killed them. I guess the light rain on a shady area of my driveway made amor so irresistible on a hot day.

Fortunately after I got a few good photos: they separated and went in opposite directions. Nature truly understands how to hook up. Later I read they can spend up to four hours on the deed. Woo doggie, I guess I would have to cancel my doctor's appointment. Cough a few times in the phone and say I might have Covid would sound a lot better than two snakes are mating in my driveway. 

I had gotten a yardstick from my car. If they took much longer, I was going to slide it under both of them and move them to the side. 

There is a legend that snakes represent change. Earlier this year I saw a rat snake like a thick rope on the cattle fencing I have supporting some grape vines. 

The question I have is whether this change will be in addition to the normal change we all have in our lives. I mean I meant to hike the Appalachian trail in my retirement. I am pea green with envy over a friend of mine. She goes on Golden Oldies Cruises and takes a trip to the Holy Land every other year. And she openly discusses she is going to hike the Appalachian trail. I am so so jealous.

What about my slow boat to China?

Well currently my boat is tethered in Central GA to seven dogs, seven cats and four people. It is going to be an especially slow boat. Being an American, I guess China is out as a travel destination. Add to that I want to go to Mongolia and hang around. Then I want to ride the Siberian express. And Russia is definitely not the best travel destination for an American. (I worry about Brittany Griner who has been imprisoned. I do say a prayer for her.) 

My sister is taking a new medicine which upset her stomach. She is too scared to transfer to a bench into the shower. So I have a technique of washing her in her wheelchair outside. I have eight gallon milk jugs and two buckets filled with warm water to accomplish this. We were outside at 3:30 in the morning, The full moon gave a lot of light, and there was something in my front pasture wailing. From the sound of it, I suspect it was an owl and coyote mix.. 

One day I may discover it was an unusual cricket or frog.  I unlock my car door so my faithful dog can sit inside to wait on the bathing adventure to end. I suspect it could be something that my dog would be making a huge mistake tangling with. We would have gone straight into the house but the four cats hanging out with me made me feel whatever it is would stay where it was. 

In the near future, I plan to have one of my bathrooms done so I can roll a wheelchair in the shower. But meanwhile, while it is warm, well hot as hades here, we will continue the outside shower. This is one of the benefits of living off the beaten path. 

So my explorations will be bathroom renovation. Yes, I am going to do it myself with a lot of help from Youtube videos. I do plan to have plumbing service come in and install the new toilet. The big thing I am going to do is remove the present cabinet and place a small sink in there for hand washing. This will give room  focus to roll a wheelchair into the shower and to aid in the transfer from the wheelchair to a toilet. 

I'll continue my daily walks around my property. It's not the Appalachian trail. But there is a lot of nature to be appreciated. I can practice being on time. We were about thirty minutes early for my mom's doctor appointment this past week. Hooray for me!!!!!

It's going to be grand

 It is the eve of garbage day. My trash truck is down at the end of the road waiting for pickup. 

My life has been exciting.

I bought parsnips and prepared them. They were good. My family said they were good. They just weren't something anyone was desiring to eat again. In my mind I was loudly thinking, fried potatoes are not the only vegetable we can eat. Actually I only fry potatoes about once every two or three months. I love fried potatoes, and I have to limit myself which I don't like to do. I plan to plant parsnips in my garden. We all need a bit of variety in our diet. 

Tonight, my dog Louise just disappeared in the dark. She is a black dog. I have an area I dump scraps of food and vegetable scraps. I had dumped some boiled peanuts, sour grapes, an expired banana, long ago cooked collards, incredibly ancient carrots along with the usual coffee grounds, potato peels, egg shells and the like in the field in front of my house. I was puzzled that my spoiled dog would plunder these remains. I do have two dogs that frequently sample the lazy chick's compost scatter. One is a dachshund, the other is my older brother's elderly rottweiler mix. Neither dog goes hungry but it is the found food is so delicious dog mentality at work. 

My neighbour is paranoid that someone or a dog is going to mess with his horses. They have called the law on me for sundry offenses such as I have pulled fence posts from the ground. Luckily, law enforcement doubted my ability to do so. Even if I could, I would not waste what is left with my body and back on spite. Idiots. 

They were out there patrolling their property with their golf cart and bright lights. I have woken up in the middle of the night because they are patrolling their property line. Oh dang, where is Louise. I crank my car and drive a wee bit in the driveway. That dog will do anything for a car ride. Still no Louise, so I go into the house and decide to look in my bedroom. She is in there on my bed with a dead opossum. 

I take the sheet off my bed with the opossum wrapped up thinking I need to dump it away from my property. I put the sheet with opossum in the car seat next to me to take near the river landing area. That is about a mile from my house. As I exit my driveway, I realize that opossum is not dead. It is passed out. So I pull over as fast as I can and empty that sheet quickly on the side of the road. 

I came close to getting to know too personally a opossum in my car at 11 PM at night. 

Of course I could have butchered the opossum. I understand people used to eat roasted possum with sweet potatoes. I plan to bake sweet potatoes tomorrow. I have a feeling if I did that; no one would ever roll their eyes at me about trying something new like parsnips.

Meanwhile, Louise is unhappy. I took her prize. She looks at me with the knowledge that I just ruined everything for her. The other dogs walk around anxious like, we are thinking about having a PArtY toNiGhT. We think we know someone who has a opossum. It's going to be grand.

Young Opossum by Liam Wolfe (Wikimedia Commons)

Well it is a new year, eh?

 Every Thursday around 10 am, my garbage is picked up. With Covid, there has been a few missed or late pick-ups. Garbage day is also my deadline to write a blog post. I'm afraid, quite a few Thursdays have passed with no post written. I've read a few posts of others. What is unusual is that I haven't been reading many posts of others.. There are two blog I follow that post about six blog posts at a time. I am very impressed, very impressed.

My sister has left assisted living and is living in my home at present. It was rocky in the beginning. The last time she was giving me a hard time, I told her I would go to her house, clean it up and deliver her the next day to her own home. She has been much nicer. Having a stroke, she has had one miserable journey. My heart really goes out to her. And then I sigh and think why am I loaded down with taking care of her. In her defense, she was lashing out at me. But, a couple she felt were friends were pushing her to sell her house very cheaply to them. Betrayal hurts.

Negotiating with the assisted living was like a poker game. I knew I had to let them tell me she had to leave or I would have had to pay for January. The irony was the woman who was the manager had a hard time telling me. My sister was asked to leave because her doctor quit her and they did not have facility doctor on staff. Essentially, my sister was eating candy and sending her sugar levels up. The doctor quit her as a consequence. I was very surprised to find out I could not get an appointment with anyone until the end of February. To say I felt ganged up on is an understatement.

I have felt a great deal of disgust with the doctor. He could have agreed to treat my sister until we got her to another doctor. Adding insult to injury, he is my doctor. I can rattle my sabers louder. But why. I am torn. I think about quitting him. This is also my mother and brother's doctor. I broke the family doctor rule which is use different doctors. He has been very helpful with my mother. In short, this is about the head nurse and my sister at loggerheads over a piece of cake. A mess in which I really had no input. Well I did, I told the nurse to let my sister have a piece of cake which in turn angered the nurse. 

And the dominos being what they are, who knows? I understand Doctors will quit you easily if you aren't compliant with your diet as a diabetic. Being compliant, I did not know this. Knowing other diabetics, I could hardly believe it. One friend of mine tells me I am unrealistic about being diabetic. She has a Milky Way candy bar every night. I try to not eat any sweets.

The assisted living is returning my sister's deposit back. They were also nice about the situation. I'm afraid I had a bit of paranoia and felt like a nobody for about a week. I had three days to get her moved
out. Getting my sister moved out was exhausting but emotionally, it was good to be busy. I've since moved on and accepted the situation. Sometimes I feel old and alone. It certainly helps me tell the story I am writing. Just pour all that into a piece of fiction. It is certainly more sane than telling the doctor he is lucky I am a good witch. He is from the Philippines. Passive aggression poorly hidden in Southern American humor would freak him out. Besides, I don't know what to think. 

I have a cousin who is saving the day for me. She and her husband are going to help me do an estate sale for my brother. Unfortunately, they are both recovering from the Covid.  They had a mild illness which is a blessing. I've had to step into being more flexible in my opinions. I feel strongly that everyone needs to get vaccinated. But I realize we all have to make our healthcare decisions. I took the family for their boosters a little over a week ago. Covid is affecting a lot of people in this area. The husband of my cousin's daughter recently lost both parents to Covid. I doubt they were vaccinated. 

We have a lot of anti-vaxxer sentiment here. Hence my new attitude. They have to live and possibly die with their choice. From the news, it is not just the States that has a large number of people more of afraid of the vaccine than the disease. Some places in Europe sound like they have large populations of people freaking out about the vaccine.  I am truly impressed with Australia for kicking out the tennis player who was not vaccinated. We are so "nutted up" with people being gullible with phony information and paranoia. I don't think our country has the fortitude to do that.

My sister and I have been watching and sleeping through the series "Breaking Bad" on Netflix. I never had an interest in the show in that the premise just did not jell with me. But man, it is a good show. When you binge watch, you do get to the point you just wish it was a movie or mini-series. It is interesting and I love the details you have to pay attention to.  But it is taking forever to watch. One thing about some of the newer shows is the craftiness of characters. A sheer manipulation that gets a bit fabulous at times to believe. However, Breaking Bad does show the escalation of corruption and it's affects. 

I don't know if this is an American idea or not. I used to believe that all people who were bad were bad as a result of some of the frustrations and obstacles we face in life. I do believe this is true for many young people who are making bad choices. One way I do not believe this idea is that I think some people are just bad. Whether that evil is a choice or brain damage, it is just a meanness in them. What do you think?

So this is Christmas

Tonight, the sun was beneath the horizon and there was that unbelievably beautiful orange glow behind the distant trees. I looked up to see several planets in the night sky. They were roughly in a row. 

People sometimes don't understand how some of us are connected to the natural world. That beauty and permanence is something that takes the troubles of this world off my shoulders. I can't help but think how small we are in the history of mankind and the size of the universe. With or without us, it all will continue to exist.

I've never learned to totally let go of people. I read in the paper about a woman who wanted to stop staying in contact with her ex-husband since their only child was grown, married and a mother. My thoughts were I thought that was the idea of a divorce.

But the truth is, I'm one who holds on to people. My huge problem is my sister who had a stroke. Quite honestly, she was not an easy person before her stroke. There is a movie about Lucille Ball. Her daughter recommended that the writer Aaron Sorkin to take off the "kid gloves". Her mother was not an easy person.

Me, I am a bullshikser from the word go. I'm always persuading people to the point I need to just state the facts and let it go. This is my gift and my disadvantage and a portion of the problem in helping my sister. Humor is an oil and yet a greasy mess at times. 

In dealing with nursing homes and assisted living, it is important to know they have the upper hand. They have a product you have to have for your sanity and the welfare of your loved one. They know the brick walls to throw up and hassle you. And frankly, I know in time I may live in one the facilities. My dad was scared of living in a nursing home. I understand too well. My experiences will delay my going into assisted living as long as I can.

My sister hates where she lives. She is diabetic and is eating sweets which is just about the worst thing a diabetic can do. Her doctor has dropped her. I cannot get another doctor until the end of March. She has a pre-existing appointment with an endocrinologist on March 9th. The facility where my sister lives does not have an in house doctor. Nor can they have someone like my sister who does not have a doctor.

My short term solution was she could live with me. She came home for the holidays and immediately wanted to go back to her place at the Assisted Living which is a good thing. Rude is not the word for her abuse of me. So that solution is not going to happen. Well it may happen. My thoughts is she wants to do a bad business deal like sell her house for a small amount of money. Whenever she is going to do something like that, the first thing she does is get rid of me. 

I'm going to a lawyer and hopefully they can give me some good advice. I don't want to do guardianship for my sister in that she will take me and the rest of my family to hell in a handbasket. I do not want to be legally responsible for someone who will deliberately thwart and make it difficult providing her the care she needs. I know I am not the only person with a difficult, handicapped person. Sometimes I consider writing her off and not contacting her and telling the social worker and nursing home; I am out of here.

On another note, a writer I truly admire has had some horrible blows. Her husband who had dementia passed. There is the guilt of trying to take care of someone with dementia. That guilt is amazing in that taking care of someone with dementia is so very difficult. The other harsh part is she knows she is dying. I will say she appears to have a support system of friends. So my problem is not good. But I am not dying or grieving. 

The plight of refugees fleeing. They leave everything behind towards uncertainty and abuse. I can't imagine having to do that.

It's an older movie. I had tried to watch the movie several times. One day, everything slowed down and I actually paid attention. It was Brighton Beach Memoirs which was a semi-autobiographical story by Neil Simon. The film was followed by two more movies which are Biloxi Blues and Broadway Bound. I've never watched the latter movies. But Brighton Beach Memoirs really touched me. The father made me think of my own father. They had family from Europe who were escaping the conditions in Germany. Although it was the 1930s and times were tough; the dad says they will find a way to house and feed these people. 

There is something about the Christmas season that is disappointing. To be content is something I have to remind myself all the time.

I remember as a child some pretty fun Christmas days. One of my sisters was born on December 23rd. My mom remembers coming home and finding pieces of candy throughout the house for the longest time. I remember we got skates. Dad didn't want us out on the road. So we skated in circles on the pine floors of our house. Mom said the floors were really scuffed with black marks from all our skating. But somehow, my dad had cleaned all her pots and pans so shiny like they were brand new. I was six that Christmas. So all my stories are hearsay at that time. But I remember it being fun and the skates. My dad knew how to throw a Christmas.

I have purchased a standing rib roast for Christmas. Without my sister, I felt a bit sad that she would not be with us. But the folks at home are game to eat roast beef. I've never cooked a rib roast before. I understand it is not quite as good a cut as prime rib. I've been studying how to cook the meat. I live in the South. We like food done. So our roast will be cooked a might more than other folks would cook it. We don't like red or pink meat. My family are not huge meat eaters. I looked for the smallest roast they had. It is huge. We will be eating sandwiches the next day which will be a huge disappointment to all our dogs under the table.. 

We are also making a Yorkshire pudding. We don't eat much so it will be a small one. Peas and carrots will round out the meal. I'm sure the dogs will quibble over the bits of Yorkshire pudding we share. Truth be told, we will be sneaking meat to each of them. I would invite others. With Covid, I am reluctant to invite others. I am mindful when I go into my sister's assisted living that I could be ground zero for a Covid infection. Plus, I don't know that any in my household would survive. I already know several who have died of Covid. We do have the vaccinations. Next week, we are getting our boosters.

So it will be Christmas. Some good, some bad, but a roof over our heads and a fine meal to boot. I can't complain. It will be 73 degrees and sunny. I'll be working outdoors after dinner. 

Christmas Letters

 Christmas Letters, You either love them or hate them. I only get one long missive each Christmas. The letter writer is a friend from over twenty years ago and she and her sister were like family to me. I have mostly enjoyed her letters. My mother enjoyed the letters too although she only knew them through what I have said.

But one year it was too much. It wasn't really the letter's intent. It was more my longing for things I have missed in life. 

The production workers in the Kentucky candle factory where so many died in the spate of tornadoes this past weekend made $8 an hour. I've been that worker. I remember making 70 cents an hour at the Tastee Freeze. I felt most fortunate to occasionally pull a second shift and raking in that cash. 70 cents times 8 hours extra. There was no overtime. I worked seven days a week. That job paid for my first year of college. I had the luxury of banking all of my money which I doubt many in the candle factory had. I wasn't exactly that worker in retrospect. 

Living through a tornado, woo doggie, I can't even imagine. I live in the land of tornadoes. I remember walking my dogs, the weather was pleasant between rain storms, my cell phone rang. It was the owners of the property across the road from me. They were asking about a tornado. I said, there was no tornado. I came back into my house and turned on the news. About four miles from me as the crow flies, there had been horrific damage from a tornado. The bank I used was totally demolished. Only the vault remained on it's concrete base. 

On another occasion, there was a teacher who was sheltering in her bath tub. The twister totally demolished her double wide home. It tossed her into the back yard. She sustained a broken ankle. It's obvious she did not return. It is now an empty lot in the country.

The funniest twister story was the inebriated man who was hurled from his home into his backyard unhurt and unfazed due to his drunken state. I don't imagine he found it that funny the next day. That is why I sleep in a bra. I'm prepared to come barreling out of my house come hell or high water. 

My Christmas letter is very simple. 

I am still here. Most of the people I love are still here. 

I still have hopes and dreams. 

The house is a mess. 

My dog BoDuke has arthritis like me. It's hard to keep a dynamo down. But I am insisting he use his little stairs and no longer take a flying jump to give one of the cats or dogs what for. I remind myself to stand up straight  

I've started a new flower bed.

Maybe, I will make it to Bouchercon in Minneapolis this September.

My field of Goldenrod are grayish white puffs of flowers. They are still beautiful in the sunlight.

Life is lot of luck no matter how well you plan.

I am still here.

I wish you the best this Christmas.

With love, Ann

Same Song Different Title

Kyle Rittenhouse and his mother makes me think of the consequences we face for our actions. Kyle Rittenhouse's lawyer gave the hope that time would allow Kyle to fade into anonymity for his shootings at a riot in Kenosha. Does he follow his lawyer's advice? Does he let political pundits use him as a cause du jour to frankly make money. Does he do some serious introspection about the deaths of two men? Does he sue CNN?

He was too young and untrained to do what he professed a desire to do at the riot. His crying on the witness stand was played all day everyday somewhere on the television. The cynic in me has seen a lot of crocodile tears. I'm one of those people who feel we need to man or woman up to what we have done. My life experience tells me there is a place for mercy with someone so young.

What changed my mind was not his lawyer. If Kyle Rittenhouse and his mother did anything right, it was hiring Mark Richards. Mark Richards changed the focus from politics to the situation and the person. The original lawyer, Lin Wood, was spending through the donations for Kyle's defense and granting interviews with the Washington Post, et al with his client Kyle Rittenhouse.

What changed my mind was reading the profiles of the people Kyle shot. Don't mistake me for one of those people who feel they were scum who deserved to be shot. That is not what I am thinking. What I did recognize is they were unstable violent men. Thousands of years of evolution has given us all that inner instinct to recognize danger in another person. Kyle saw that danger.  

I remember a psychologist who warned teachers to always respect that instinct. I only had one student in my work that evoked that response. 

I worked at an evening high school. He was one of many day school students who were trying to catch up by retaking classes they failed. My night school kids were irritated with their immaturity. The day school kids mistakenly thought they were the better kids. He sat in the front and I had a large student lab table between me and him deliberately. 

 One day, I absentmindedly broke my rule and walked over to the side of the table and that kid reared up at me. Two of my "so called bad kids" were there blocking him from me within seconds. My instincts were right. Those two kids knew it too. It was interesting how the lightbulb went on in the average day school student's heads. They began to to be quiet and polite like my night school gentlemen. 

I suspect Kyle Rittenhouse had an innocence like the day school students. Those two night school students would not be attending a riot. They understand attending a riot can lead to death and injury. Heck we have death and injury where people crowd a music venue. My beef with Rittenhouse and his mother was what fantasy world did they exit when they loaded up for the riot. I can understand why a young man could want the adventure. But momma, you gave him a lift and a "cool" rifle?

Consequence? Originally, I thought he should serve some jail time. I'm tired of everyone who has the money and inclination arming themselves to the teeth with guns and not having a clue what a responsibility and burden it is to be a responsible gun owner. I was raised with rifles and guns. They were considered dangerous tools. I had someone point a gun at me about ten years ago to intimidate me. I still have no respect for this person. 

I was raised to only show a gun as you use it. If you are wondering what I would use a gun for. It would be to be to protect a person or one of my animals from being attacked by a wild animal such as a feral hog or dog. The days are long gone where I would shoot game for dinner. My cousin still shoots a wild turkey on occasion, and they have a nice meal from the meat.

My dogs are working dogs. No one sneaks up on my house. I have a rule that we lock doors and windows at all times. If we were to have a home invader, this would give us time until law enforcement arrived. I know I would not go all Rambo and be successful. I would be scared and make mistakes. My pitbull would be behind me shaking in fear. But my chihuahua, I don't know. I can see the home invader being brought down by him. 

Rittenhouse has a lifetime consequence. I'm sure going through the court case was a hardship on the mother and son. I know it was paid for by donations and Fox news making a documentary. But there are other hardships than financial. Rittenhouse may be emboldened by winning the court case and the urging of people for him to sue CNN or President Biden. My prediction is that doing so will make him never live what he did down. He would be like David Duke with his KKK affiliation or  Zimmerman shooting Travyon Martin.

I see Kyle sort of like the young woman who was photographed hassling black students integrating a school in the 1960s. Her name and image deeply affected her life. She did her best to live it down and remain obscure. Maturity and a conscience led her to work to help black Americans live better. I certainly hope that Kyle takes his notoriety and builds a better life for himself and others. In some sense, being involved in such a notorious event makes a person almost obligated to live a life of redemption.

In humility, I think of times I was shielded from blunders of ignorance. I think about the woman who made a lame joke flying to South Africa and the public condemnation she received because social media took her serious. This is one big reason why I am hesitant to voice public opinions. The other reason is I can think of a lot of other things I would rather do than listen to someone disagreeing with me. 

Plus, I always find things I have had wrong my entire life.

For instance John Fogerty's brother was Tom Fogerty not Dan Fogelberg. I went to see John Fogerty a week or two back. What a great show. He was very close to being as good a showman as Marty Stuart. My favorite was his saxophonist, who had a Dixieland Jazz outfit on. So all these years I have been calling John Fogerty, John Fogelberg. A mistake amplified by the fact that I am a huge fan. The internet is my fact checker. And so many things for me to learn.