Tag: writing

The Spa Vacation is Over

Well today is the day.  This luxurious spa vacation is over.  Today I go back to work.  This is going to be fun, I keep telling myself.  I’m going to go back to a mountain of unread emails and scribbled notes left on my keyboard, saying “Welcome back I need this done before 8am” (I usually get there about 6:15am) or “Glad you are back, please look into this and explain how this could have happened” (the fact that walking is a going to be a challenge is beside the point).

Friends are worried and don’t want me to go in quite as early because no one else is there, that’s the reason I go in early, no one else is there.  I get more done in the early morning quiet.  But my new biggest challenge will be trying to get in the doors at work.  Early birds have to scan a badge against an electronic reader on the side of the entry wall wedged behind a concrete standing ashtray about five feet from the first set of doors.  The doors are unlocked for about three to five seconds, so I have to hobble from behind the giant ashtray to the doors in under four seconds.  No hill for a stepper.  Then if I’m successful there I have to enter a passcode on the keypad against the sidewall again about five feet from the second set of doors.  The floor is clear of obstacles here so I have a better chance of getting to the doors before they re-lock leaving me stuck in the entryway waiting for someone to come rescue me.

If I am successful there, then the rest will be a cakewalk.  Hobble through the building, open the first fire door, crutch myself up two flights of stairs and open the second fire door at the top of the stairs without knocking myself down one of the flights of stairs.  Easy peasy.

Once I’m through the door chaos awaits.  Maybe I should take my drugs with me.  Mitch assures me that this will be an adventure.  I think he secretly wants me to stay home.

Boredom is Setting In

This is going to be a  long three months.  It’s only been five days since my surgery and I am so bored.  I am so bored that I’m trying my hand at poetry.  Below are my first two attempts.

 

Gentle Waves

Sitting on the end of the dock

Staring at the vastness of water

Lost in thought

Dreaming of floating away

On the soft gentle waves

Free of all physical boundaries.

 

The Warmth on My Face

I lean back in my chair

Face tilted toward the light

Feeling the warmth

Washing over me

Making me smile.

Hatchlings

We have hatchlings!  Just about two weeks to the day that I discovered the Robin’s nest and the three eggs have now hatched.  Now we have three tiny bodies that are all mouths chirping away mouths open waiting impatiently for their meals.

Everyday Mitch and I would peek out the kitchen window to check on mama to make sure she was still there and hadn’t abandoned the nest.  Each time the nest was empty I worried that she wasn’t coming back.  Weird huh, worrying about a bird and its nest?  It’s not like Robins are close to extinction or that I’m an extremist ornithologist.  Normally I don’t think twice about a bird’s nest and its contents.  The only time I even notice one is when I see broken eggshells on the ground or the nest gets blown out of the tree.

I think the reason this time is different is because the nest is so low to the ground, I can see in the nest standing next to the Hibiscus bush.  Being five foot two is low to the ground.  No concerns for overhead height restrictions here.  We have watched and worried about predators getting too close.  There are a lot of cats and snakes here.  I have worried about the weather, the rain and the cool temperatures.  You would think it was my nest and my eggs.

Now though we hatchlings and new worries.  Will the predators get to them, will they go out and party missing bird curfew?  I want to get close and take pictures but knowing mom and dad will be close by, I’m not that stupid.  I like my head without any holes from bird beaks or worse I don’t want the parents to abandon the nest leaving the babies.

But for now we hatchlings and I get to watch them grow.

Charlie Guarding My Foot

Charlie is making sure nobody gets close to my foot.  I just hope he doesn’t change positions.

 

SAMSUNG

My Knee Scooter

My knee scooter was delivered yesterday, a device designed to help me stay mobile without putting any weight on my foot.  I have tried to preplan for everything knowing I wouldn’t be able to walk for three months.  I bought extra skirts to wear, figuring that trying to pull slacks on over this big honking bandage would be a bit of a challenge.  I waited for the weather to warm up before having the surgery so my naked toes wouldn’t get cold in the snow.  I bought a backpack to be able to haul everything so that my purse wouldn’t slip off my shoulder throwing me off balance and causing me to crash and burn.  Or as Mitch describes it, that “Black Hole” I carry around.

I decided not to put in a garden this year because Mitch would be doing most of the work for three months.  I know that the harvest won’t be until August or September, but I figure that he has enough to do without me unnecessarily adding to it.  I have friends coming to walk the dogs in the morning while Mitch is at work so the heathens don’t get short changed.

My doctor had described the scooter as small, lightweight and collapsible so I figured that I would break it down and hook it to my backpack and drag it up the stairs with me while using my crutches.  You see, coming and going in and out of our home involves stairs.  Even though we live in a ranch style house, there are stairs going up to the garage to get in the car.  There are stairs going down to the street to get the mail and daily paper.  There are stairs to go out to the yard, just to enjoy a bit of fresh air.  That’s because our house was built into the side of a hill.  Stairs everywhere.

So much for preplanning, this is the Hemi of scooters.  It’s very nice, don’t get me wrong, sturdy, padded knee pad, hand brakes left and right and pre-adjusted to my height.  But small and lightweight it is not!  This thing is huge.  I am not going to be strapping it onto my back and hauling it around.  Now I have figure out how to get it and me up the stairs to get it in the car, out of the car and up the two flights of stairs at work.

So much for trying to preplan.

Mitch is a Saint

The true test of any relationship comes when one member, in this case me, becomes disabled albeit short term and has to rely pretty much on the other for just about everything.  Poor Mitch, good thing he has the patience of Job.  I am stubborn, willful and very independent.  So now being dependent upon another is a tough pill to swallow, even though I am truly grateful he is here.

Yesterday I had foot surgery to remove a bunion and have two toes shortened.  Sounds like fun, huh?  There is even a name for it, a bunionectomy.  There were bones removed and bones shaved off, and because of that I can’t put any weight on my left foot for three months.  Compliments of wearing cute shoes years ago.  I guess we won’t be going dancing anytime soon.

Now Mitch has to do double duty.  Walking the dogs, laundry, cooking and all the yard work.  Granted, he already does all of the laundry and all of the ironing woohoo!  Walking the dogs has been a joint effort on our part but now it’s all his.  Cooking and yard work are my domains.  I have to rely on Mitch to not mow down everything in his path.  God grant me patience.

Not only does he have to take up my slack, but he has to take care of me.  Following me on my crutches and righting me before I crash and burn.  Grace is my middle name, even with two good feet.  Poor man, he is going to be very busy.

I had been planning this surgery for months, and trying to get prepared as best as we could.  I have been practicing going up and down stairs on my crutches loaded with a heavy backpack, getting in and out of the car.  It’s my left foot so driving should be good. Practice is good but the real thing is going to be scary at best.  My plan is to go back to work next week and bonus – I work on the second floor.  No elevators, yea!  Just lots and lots of stairs.  I will be the crutch queen by the end of the upcoming three months.

Please pray for Mitch.

Could it Be?

Dare I say the words?  I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t even think it.   I’m not a superstitious person, not usually anyway, but sometimes it just seems that from my mouth to Mother Nature’s ear.  Last year everyone called it the “Winter that didn’t Happen” and this year it’s been the “Winter that won’t go Away”.  It’s now May 5th, Cinco de Mayo, and we’ve been beset with snow and cold miserable weather across a fair amount of the country since February.

I wanted to plant radishes and lettuce while the weather was still cool, that didn’t happen.  No cool weather, but lots of cold wet icky weather.  So no fresh radishes or lettuce this year.  Last week my son had to cover his beds with a cold frame to protect the young plant shoots of his onions, potatoes, lettuce, etc.  Next weekend is Mother’s Day, the official day to plant tomatoes and other warm weather plants.  But I don’t know, the highs have been only in the forties and fifties, so the ground hasn’t had a chance to warm up much.

Today, though the sky is brighter, there is still cloud cover but the temperatures are warmer.  The high today is supposed to get up in the sixties, woo hoo.  The forecast for the week is looking optimistic, highs in the seventies, okay I can live with that.  One of our fears is that we will go from winter to summer, boom with no transition.  Just one day it will go from cold to blazing hot.

Back to my original question, dare I say the words?  I guess I’ll take a chance, here goes, “Maybe it is finally Spring”.  There I said it, cross your fingers.

Migrating Birds and Summer Residents

Every summer we have a couple of resident Blue Herons that stay until it gets too cold.  I was able to get a shot of one of them in flight.  He looks pretty cool in flight.

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For the last three years we have had Crested Cormorants stop here on their annual Spring migration North, maybe heading to Minnesota.  I was so surprised the first time I saw these water birds that look similar to ducks roost in trees.  They are black with a crest on top of their heads with an orangish red shade on their lower bills.  They swim very low in the water and have long necks.

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These shots were taken with my Canon Rebel using a 55 – 250mm lens.

 

 

 

More Evidence that Spring is Finally Here

This morning as I walked out the front door to get the morning paper, I startled a Robin nearby.  Nothing new about that, we have tons of Robins here.  But as the bird flew away I noticed a bird’s nest in our hibiscus bush.  Curious, I walked up to it there in the bottom of the nest lay three blue Robin’s eggs.  I had disturbed Mom as she was keeping the eggs warm.

I couldn’t help myself, even though I know to stay away so that the parents don’t abandon the nest, I grabbed my camera and quickly took some photos of the nest and Mom sitting there.  Until the eggs hatch the front door will be off limits.  Good thing we have three others to choose from.

 

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Mama Robin keeping her eggs warm

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Another shot of the Mama Robin

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The three Robin eggs.  The reason for color “Robin’s Egg Blue”

Photos taken with my Canon Rebel.

The Calm Before the Storm

It’s too quiet here.  It’s been almost two months since Mitch finished installing the dishwasher.  He has been busy with work and local city demands and hasn’t had a chance to cut the cabinet that will install next to the dishwasher filling the gaping hole left when we removed the existing cabinet to install the dishwasher.  I have not bugged him about filling the space because I know how busy he has been

I think part of his reticence to start the project is that there will be multiple “Mitch Fit” watches that can quickly go to “Mitch Fit” warnings and even “Mitch Fit” imminent crises.   Cutting down a thirty-six inch cabinet to a twelve inch cabinet is probably a bit of a challenge, especially shrinking the cabinet door, but I have faith that Mitch will figure it out.  (If not, I know where I can buy a twelve inch cabinet brand new in the box.)  That’s what scares him the most.  If I buy a new cabinet, I will have to re-stain or paint all of the cabinets so all will match and look the same.   Painting wood is sacrilege to him.  Wood only comes in stained colors if you ask him.

Finally this afternoon after a consultation with a seasoned cabinetmaker Mitch is finally de-constructing the cabinet and preparing it to become a third of its’ original size.  WooHoo.  What’s the worst that can happen?  It looks really sad and we go buy a new one.  Mitch doesn’t look at it that way, though.  He thinks it has to be perfect.

The de-constructing is the easy part; it’s the reconstructing part that will be tricky.  But it’s okay, I have my ear plugs.  I am definitely a glutton for punishment.