Waiting

You don't want to be there, even if it is for something simple, like making sure you are A-OK.  But I was there for someone else.  I was there for hubby who had fallen off of a ladder...not far...just five feet.  He landed on his butt, but since he is missing the back side of 5 neck vertebrae from a serious operation years ago and the little bit of whip lash from the fall left him a bit stunned, even he agreed with his doctor that time in the emergency room of the hospital was a trade off well spent.  So we were waiting to be called.  We were number 3711, they no longer use last names.

The waiting room is designed really well, since you can hear the nurse at the front hall as if she had a microphone and she is just calling in a medium voice.  When she leaves it is pretty quiet except for the whispers of the half dozen people waiting.

The man in the wheel chair with the oxygen tank and beard and long white hair looked at me suspiciously when I sat down across from him.  His son said something to him, but he was hard of hearing and missed it. 

The two others were women, one in the early stage of pregnancy and in a bit of pain and just finished being put on IVs and the other woman closer to my age in a wheel chair and nursing a banged up leg, surrounded by her entire family that must have been at the Sunday BBQ at her house from the way they were dressed and acting like this was a continuation of the afternoon party.   They cleaned out the snack machine, checked their phones and spent the rest of the time telling jokes.  One son looked a little like a younger version of Willie Nelson with a navy handkerchief over his head and a wiry beard.

In about 30 minutes hubby was called.  He was called ahead of the man in the wheel chair.  I went outside to the garden and took some photos.

Flowers and flowing water surrounded me and were certainly there to relieve stress.  I was not stressed as hubby was in just a little pain and had been taken for triage, but I knew this might have eased some minds on other days.

I had my point and shoot camera and caught this lovely butterfly, a common buckeye on the black-eyed susan.

It was hot and humid, so I returned to the air-conditioned waiting room after about ten minutes.

The man in the wheel chair had moved to a chair but was at his last bit of patience and stood to tell his son he was going home.

"I have been waiting  two  #$$9ing hours and I am %^&-da*?%$ sick and tired of this!"

I agreed with him as they had taken hubby before him.  Son tried to calm him but they were almost shouting since he was so hard of hearing.  Within a few seconds a tiny ball of energy weighing no more than 90 pounds herself with the sweetest smile and little notepad came in front of them and began asking questions.  He was not in the mood for her charm, but she finally got him calmed down while she left to see where he was in the grand scheme of things.  In about 5 minutes she returned. took his arm and they walked through the automatic doors into the triage area.

I continued to wait.  I read my Kindle, slept some and even watched some obnoxious ESPN channel where a loud-mouth was telling us how much he knew about some player and how everyone else was stupid and so wrong.

After two and half hours hubby was released with drugs, feeling no pain and getting good news about his neck.

Unfortunately we were hungry and made the mistake of stopping for a light dinner and ended up driving home in the worst electrical storm I had ever seen...we were following the front south and right under all the lightning.  Hubby was on Oxycontin and very casual about the 4 and 5 lightning strikes every few minutes.  I was trying to see the car ahead of me. (We were slow enough at one time that I grabbed the camera and shot through the windshield.)

We got home to find absolutely NO RAIN in our yard.  It had stopped just a few hundred feet before our neighborhood.  What a bummer.  No glorious sunset either just the last of the clouds above the trees.

But I am not complaining one twit as this was a very nice visit to an emergency room and it could have been so much worse.  Do not even get me started about hubby on a ladder without me!!!

100 Years From Now

100 years from now,
Who will remember my name?
Who will protect my treasures?
Who will call forth the memories?

The world I know may be lost by then
Into nuclear winter or endless hot summer.
The few natives will have retreated
Into the bowels of the earth
For rough shelter and safety.

The earth may have slid in upon itself
Becoming an abstract Dali-esc spheroid of clay
Robotic machines may be keeping the peace
Comedy becoming a lost art
with only an abundance of fearful snickers
and outright chuckles rarer than hen's teeth.

Music a distant memory
A long ago dream of another land
Propaganda in song more of a Greek chorus
Days hard and empty
Nights cold and unnerving

Who will remember the unscripted laughter of a child?
Who will protect the benign lover?
Who will call forth their own courage,

100 years from now?

An Awe Fillled Moment

Another unusually hot day causing me to spend less time outside under the baking sunshine and more time on the computer.  Hubby returns from running some errands and there is excitement in his voice.

"Tabor, come outside,  I want to show you something."

"What?"  I sigh.

"A baby fawn...on the outside of the fence."

"What?!"

He sets down a package and continues, "I got out of the car and heard this bleating sound.  I thought it was some strange new bird and so went toward it and there on the outside of the deer fence was this fawn calling out."

Tabor never rarely misses a photo op and so I grabbed the camera and garden shoes.  Hubby and I hurried to the fence behind my herb bed.  We scanned the foliage carefully.  The sun was bright and the shadows were very dark.  Nothing.  I walked along the side of the fence looking.  Nothing.

Well, damn it, I will just walk outside around the fence!  It is about a half block long so it took me some time to get through the driveway gate and make my way around through brambles and poison ivy and prickly holly to the edge of the ferns where hubby said he had last seen the fawn.

We gently looked everywhere and were just about to give up when hubby stepped back to turn around and head back to the house and at his heels there looking up at him was the tiniest little fawn I had ever seen bleating so sadly.  We must have stood there in shock and awe for some time before we decided that the fawn must have lost its mother to come up to us.  We easily lifted it into our arms, took it into the house and tried to give it some water, which it lapped very hesitantly.  We took it outside to the fenced garden, afraid our air-conditioning might be too much of a shock for such a little thing, and then came back inside and called DNR for help.

They referred us to a local rehabilitation house (a home) run by a retired vet, I think, hubby had done all the talking on the phone.

We wrapped the fawn in a towel and I placed it on my lap in the car and hubby started the GPS and proceeded to the house on the other side of the county.    A young teenage girl, who worked for the vet, brought us inside.  The animal house itself was a disaster.   It smelled like a zoo, there was junk every where, floors needed washing, rugs needed vacuuming.  The vet, who had been showering, greeted us in a bathrobe and was also surprised at how tiny this fawn was.  Born maybe just days ago!  Even he had to take a photo!

He weighed it, felt its stomach, and looked at its eyes and declared it very healthy and recommended we return it to the woods.  He said there was food still in the stomach.  We were glad he said this, because I do know sometimes mothers leave their young for some time, and did not want to keep it or leave it with him in that disaster of a home.

We took the little beastie home, washed it down with a damp clean cloth to remove any of our smell and returned it to the woods.  It stood there looking longingly at us as we placed it on shaky little spindle legs and did not move.  I pushed its behind gently and it finally walked into the deep ferns and amazingly disappeared almost instantly.  We have not seen or heard from it since, so I am hoping is well!  That is, until that little creature becomes a yearling and starts eating our shrubbery next year!!

The Females Who Saved Me From Myself

I have cried and sighed with Anne of Green Gables.
I have loved and wondered with Anne Frank.
I have lamented Scarlett O'Hara's self-centered ego but applauded her stamina and wished I had her waist.
I admired Nancy Drew and her fearless independence and money.
I learned determination and stubborn argumentative ways from Jo March.
I wanted Karen Blixen's sense of adventure.
I helped Charlotte weave her web and fell in love with Wilber.
I wanted Rima's ethereal presence in her Green Mansions.
I wanted Elspeth Huxley's childhood and powers of observation.

I am sure there are more as this was a stream of consciousness post, but these were ones I read when I was younger (Teens and Twenties) that influenced me the most.

Who are some female characters, fiction or non-fiction, in the land of books that influenced you in as a teen or young adult?

King Arthur, Spoiled Brat

Arthur came rushing up like a banshee getting angrier and angrier with its temper tantrum until it hit the shore and colder waters.  It was almost as if it had been punched in the nose as it slowed and moved back out to sea.  It completely avoided my little pocket of land on the Eastern shore.  A cool weather front met Arthur's challenge and we now have spring weather for a few days.  Sweater weather...almost.

On the down side we got only a tenth of an inch of rain and winds too strong to go out in a boat.  We headed down  to the local town for an old-fashioned fireworks show being surprised that parking was not full and there were still many places to set up chairs on the church lawn.  We had not seen the fireworks from the land side and asked a dear old lady (younger than me probably) sitting on a folding chair about the best vantage points.  She explained the fireworks had been postponed and she was just waiting for her family who had decided to walk around town before sunset.

A number of years ago a restaurant fire on this island coupled with heavy winds almost burned down the entire town as firefighters worked desperately to bring it under control.  The tally was only two buildings lost and some smoke damage.  With the wind causing unpredictable drifts that evening, fireworks had to be exploded another day.

I am no longer a child and was happy just to get out for a bit and then back home.

Re-entry

I, like many of my readers, do not like programmed vacations filled with artificial entertainment.  I did like the Williamsburg visit.  They had a game for young historians called RevQuest where they use clues, decoder charts and talks with staff in costume throughout the historic town.  The children and young adults pretend they are spies for America working with the French during the revolution.  They meet in secret places and wear a scarf so staff know they are spies. They have to text messages from cell phones to get confirmation when they think they have solved a part of the puzzle.   I do not think this part of history gets enough promotion.  Oldest grandson, who loves puzzles, did very well.

Re-entry after our week away was a slow process as I caught an intestinal and other illness (probably from sharing water bottle with granddaughter or visiting two 'amusement parks') and had to schedule an appointment for antibiotics yesterday.  I actually enjoyed sitting around and reading and going through the mail and sitting close to the bathroom and not seeing the problems in the yard yesterday.

Gardeners are the type of people who would rather stay home during the growing season than go off and explore some other parts of the world.  It was daughter who chose this time of year and because we want very much to be with them, we agreed.  We came back to a lot (A LOT) of rabbit devastation.  Almost every one of my sunflowers, some over 6 feet tall, brought down by little teeth.  We were not there to spray with a noxious minty smell every few days and they discovered that sunflowers and parsley were not mint but a delicious breakfast and dinner!  They also dug under the fence of our vegetable garden and we have had a real set back with almost everything planted except the tomatoes, of course.  Fortunately gardeners have a strong heart.

On the plus side, the five bluebirds have hatched and are being fed by mom and dad throughout the day.  Feeding five!!  That keeps you busy.

I did take a short time to visit the used book store in the store area of Williamsburg and purchased a collection of poems by Pablo Neruda, motivated by my recent read of "Paula" by Isabelle Allende, and a memoir written by Katheryn Hepburn on the making of "African Queen" which is one of my FAVORITE movies.

 

Today we begin to move deck and patio chairs and small items to prepare for the tropical storm that is heading up our way. I have many photos to process.  Actually I took less than 500 for the whole week, so I am getting more precise in what I want to take.  I have a house to clean.  We are picking quarts of red raspberries which are not being totally removed by birds and squirrels.  I have to make an apple raspberry pie and hubby is putting up pints of raspberry jam.  I have to do all this before we may lose electricity in the next day or two!!

A Summary

Did you ever stop and look at yourself in the moment and think ... "I never thought I would be this cliche." ?  Perhaps most of us like to think we are unique and a multi-prismed person of fascinating interests and activities.  We are thus different from the masses.  Yet, I  must admit that I am not.

I am one side of a set of grandparents that own a time share that is movable.  I am one of a set that vacations with grandchildren in all the traditional places such as beaches, cottages by lakes, amusement parks, major historical monuments. I am one of a set that loads a car to the brim and overflowing with bicycles, towels, coolers, snacks, games, drinks and DVDs.  One of those people I used to observe never thinking I was anywhere like that.  (Just look at that knobby-kneed grandma attempting to fit one more cooler into the back of that van!  Look at that balding man trying to get his bike lock around both old bikes!)

I have a son-in-law and daughter who manage to program every single hour of every single day on a family vacation.  We can go to a place that my husband and I went to years ago and see far more of it than I ever knew was there!  Of course, much of it is geared for a younger audience and that is why we bypassed it.

Son-in-law is adamant that every single thrill ride MUST be experienced.  He does push to include the kids, but since they are young he cannot get them on EVERY ride.  He is into mathematical data and knows which one has the most turns or goes the highest or has the biggest drop and maintains a memory list of those he has experienced as closely as a birder keeps his life list.  As he described a ride I would be terrified.

Of course time must be left to stand in lines (they were very short this year) for rides that barely move but make the small kids think they are running the show. 

And grandparents forced time to be left for the animal shows, the stage shows and the diving shows.  With the price of tickets we felt these shows were really high end and professional. 

No, it isn't Broadway...it IS an amusement park.

Daughter wants to hit the TravelAdvisor's top rated restaurants and we include as many as we can within limited budgets and small children's tastes.  Both parents set aside an evening to hit the outlets.  Son-in-law got several free vouchers for the golf course so he worked that into the very end of the day and skipped a few dinners with us.

Hubby really wants to be anywhere on the water, but when he cannot do that he is happy with a history lesson or two or just spending 20 minutes talking to the stranger next in line.  His neck surgery means he can no longer go on crazy rides, but his ego is small and he will ride the smallest of rides with grandson.

We did sleep in every morning until about 8:00 and then were out of the unit by 9:30 and not home again until after 7:00.  I was amazed and glad that the little ones had no melt-downs and were able to keep up with their parents.  It was a very telling time when the oldest boy, nine, did say on the last day he was looking forward to getting home as he was getting tired of going to "fun places."  When I commented that they were so upper middle class, I did get a surprised look from Dad.

Never knew I would be one of those folks who go on master vacations.  I used to be the weekend camper.  Times change.

Winding Down

Our week's vacation with three little ones and their parents located near an amusement park, a water park,  and four historical parks is winding down this morning.  Got up early and packed food and clothes.

Hubby is cooking banana pancakes, two little ones are already eating them and the third is playing his recorder...three songs he knows well...over and over and over.

There are swim goggles, board games and DVDs scattered in various corners throughout this two bedroom time share.

Parents are busy in their bedroom sorting clothing and charger cords and packing bags.

I have got the two kids set up to eat and am now quickly blogging while waiting for the dryer to buzz, but now I have to go and check on little ones eating once again.

On the way out we will hit Williamsburg village one last time.  I hope to check out the used book store there which is one of my favorite places to browse.  Us old people like old books!

Check in later.

Drowning in activities

Sunrise to sunset working on a schedule.  Spending time with schedule junkies, amusement park junkies, restaurant junkies, swimming pool junkies and one history junkie.

No time to blog, but maybe tonight will read some other blogs!

Give It Your Best Shot and Then Get a Beer

Good, better, best,
Never let it rest,
Until the good is better,
And the better is best.

Or....if it is not your life at stake,
You can accept the reality that you are not perfect.
You can accept the reality that you are somewhere in the middle.
You can accept the reality that you have lots of company.

You can accept the reality that while we honor and love the best in us and others, we feel most comfortable with someone who gave it their best shot and then can laugh about it when they missed the target.

Or, perhaps accept it was the wrong target after all?