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 |  Just play: don't look at your hands! |
What a dumb title for a person who never got a single star  on her piano lessons!Daily practice is the thing though: the practice of noticing as well as of writing.  However, I'd much rather play duets than solos, so hop right in! You can do the melody or the base part, I don't care.  Just play along--we'll make up the tune as we go. I'll try to write regularly and deliberately. Sometimes I will do it poorly, tritely, stiltedly, obscurely. I will try to persevere regardless. It seems to be where my heart wants to go, and that means to me that God wants me there too. See you tomorrow. ![Merit Badge in Journaling
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| Today didn't start off well. I wakened to a crashing sound that was, thankfully, just in my dream. I was hunting for a place to park, realized there was a motor bike in the spot I'd headed for, and then backed into a green pickup truck. After breakfast I remembered I needed to call about my Discover card. I'd gotten a letter from them the other day saying there were a few changes to my contract. The penalty for a late payment was going to go up to $50, and the this and the that. I don't often make a late payment, but I have been known to carry one around in my purse for a week, forgetting to mail it, and the $25 fee infuriated me. Anyway, the letter went on to say that if I did not want these changes applied to my card, I needed to let them know by September. So, I wrote a letter saying that indeed I did not want these changes. The next thing I knew, I couldn't use my Discover card. It had been cancelled. Maybe I should have expected that, but I didn't. It was not mentioned in the letter. Another thing that was not mentioned was that any points that have been accumulated, which was $140 worth, would no longer be available. Gypped out of $140! I was angry. So, I called and talked with "Robert," who said there must have been a mistake, etc. When he called back with the information, I wasn't at home, so he left a message. This morning I called back, and "Robert" wasn't around. "Crystal" took the call and said, of course the fact that I would lose any bonus if the account was closed for any reason was all spelled out quite clearly in the initial contract. Oh. So I mentioned "Robert's" name, and she read through my file. All the above was still true, but Robert had discovered that if I reinstate my account within 90 days, I'd get the bonus back. Fortunately, it was still within 90 days, so not all was lost. You can imagine what I'll do with this account after I get the bonus back. Cash and close. Got a new patient 40 miles north of town, so, yea, I can continue a weekly drive to the country. The man is 90 and was sick several times while I was there today, which was embarrassing for him. I got a basin for him in time, and he was very tidy about it so my gag reflex didn't get too much of a workout. Speaking of workouts, I got to the gym today, thanks to a friend whose exercise buddy is laid up at present. That's a great help, knowing someone will be waiting for you at the Nautilus machines. My afternoon patient is such a joy. He was hurting today and was in bed, with a sanctus bell beside him to call his wife if he needed her. He reminisced about his travels to the southwest, and we had a very enjoyable visit. That's all for now. It's the weekend, even if I am on call. Have a safe one. *^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ I forgot to mention the really great pool party held in Muddy Frogwater over Labor Day. The city pool, which was closing for the summer, held a special swim for people who wanted to bring their dogs. The dogs behaved and loved it, and everyone had a good time. Isn't that a hoot? Or is it a Woof! No, maybe it's a Ribbit. |
| I’ve been reading a bit about autistic spectrum disorders, and I find them very interesting. My only picture of an autistic child comes from television, where the children are wearing helmets and bashing their heads into the wall, or making strange vocalizations. Those are extreme examples. On the other end of the scale are the children who don’t socialize well, don’t pay much attention to other children (unless they’re siblings perhaps,) but look, talk and move like any other child. The book I’m reading is Autistic Spectrum by Dr. Lorna Wing. In talking about social impairments, she divides children into four groups: the aloof group, the passive group, the “active but odd” group, and the overly formal group. Children in the aloof group behave as if no one else exists. They don’t respond if you speak to them, they don’t follow commands, they do not look at other people except an occasional sideways glance. They do not cuddle, and may even pull away when touched. If they want you to do something for them, they may grab your arm and take you to the object they cannot reach, but they don’t put their hand in yours. When you’ve done what they wanted, they will once again ignore you. They may enjoy rough and tumble play, and even look you in the eye during that time; but when it’s over, they’re back to being aloof. These children may be indifferent to or alarmed by other children in their play group or pre-school. Children in the Passive group have poor eye contact like the aloof group children. They have the least behavioral problems of any on the autistic spectrum. They respond to other children, but do not initiate contact. If a group of children is playing a family, they are the babies. Dr. Wing apologized for the name “Active but Odd” group, but said it was the best description she could come up with. Children and adults in this group will make approaches to others, but usually to the person in charge rather than a peer. They do so to request or to make demands, unaware of the concerns or feelings of anyone but themselves. They may have poor eye contact, or may make and break that contact at unusual times. They may hold or hug a person too tightly, and may become aggressive if they don’t get their way. They ignore children their own age, or may act aggressively toward them. This is a hard group to diagnose because their ability to initiate a social interaction covers up their lack of social skill. Factors other than impaired socialization that are part of a diagnosis for these children are these: communications disorders, impairments of imagination, repetitive movements and rituals. Language may present difficulties, but also non-verbal communications. That’s interesting to think of people who are not comfortable imagining anything, but I know adults like that as well as children. Right now, I imagine it’s time for me to get supper going, no matter how small and insignificant it is.  I hope this topic is interesting to somebody besides me. Here's the link for the pond tour I promised: http://wwhospice.org/pondtour07/ As for dinner, we're still doing Nutri-System, so it wasn't too wonderful. He had tacos, which I dolled up with fresh tomato and lettuce and fat free sour cream. I can't believe it, but I've gained two pounds on it! The calorie count is less than 1000, so I cannot fathom how it's possible. I don't like it well enough to eat all the stuff either, and am not subbing something else instead. Bill has lost five pounds though, and he's the one I really want to help, since his pilot's license depends upon it. |
| We've turned off the irrigation water even though the weather is still in the 80's. Our yard, which, other than plagued by oxalis, was beginning to look good, had developed a worse problem. The northestern corner was seriously wadable, although the sprinklers were still putting out, fooling us into thinking maybe it wasn't a leaky pipe underground. Wishful thinking. Half the fish pond was suffering its own peculiar problem: the liner was floating. BIll had to cut a hole in the bottom to let the ground water in. He thought maybe we had a spring coming up in the yard, since we are only a yard away from a creek. We didn't know what we'd do if that was the case, and he hasn't pumped the pond out again to see if water returns with the main line turned off. So tonight we'll head out to hand water. Not much longer, I suppose. Tomorrow I need to buy some more round-up. The beds I cleared along the fence for iris rhizomes I bought from the iris society are suddenly infiltrated with bermuda grass from the other side. Yuck. It is a nasty weed, and the roots go very deep. I'm not sure if I can get rid of it. It's in a narrow patch of yard between fence and shop with flagstones sunk in, but bermuda will go up and over anything, if not underneath. I'm interested in gardening in the winter and early spring, but, you know, by September, I really don't care much. However, I've got to save what I can. |
| I don't have much of a subject for tonight, so I'm pulling a memory from my trip to Albuquerque for the hospice conference a month ago. The breakout session was put on by two music therapists, and they began with some experiences for us to try. We were asked to pair with someone we didn't know and to pick up a prop from under our chair. Each couple had one shaker (a plastic jar with beans in it) and one scarf. The instructions were to move, as a pair, to the music. Then came the mandatory, "How did that feel to you?" and exchange of props. The second exercise was still in pairs but without the props. This time we had to imagine that one of us was disabled in some way, and then try to dance with them. That was interesting, to move to the music in whatever way we could, compensating for our disability. We all found that to be a surprisingly satisfactory activity. One of the music therapists talked about how to choose music for our patients, what to ask about and who to ask. She said to watch out for family members who speak for the mute patient, not to automatically take their word that Mama loves polka music. Maybe Mama did love it back when Papa was alive and they could dance, but maybe it makes her cry now. Or maybe Papa played a trombone and would love to hear some. Be very careful about musicians, she told us. Sometimes they are really agitated by music that they themselves can no longer play. So, if the patient can't tell you himself what he likes, pay close attention when you play it for him. See if it relaxes him, or cheers him, or irritates him, etc. Then she played a piece of music, "Baby, Let Your Mind Roll On," and asked us afterwards to share our impressions. For me, it was like the lights went down and immediately I was on the dance floor at a college fraternity party. I could feel the (shudder!!) cigarette in my hand, and the caution I had to take to not bump into anybody with it. I had on my madras wraparound skirt and Weejuns, and my hair was in a flip like Mary Tyler Moore! It was kind of amazing! If the patient is able to talk, the music may be a key to wonderful memories; and if the particular piece you've chosen doesn't work, then maybe you'll get a clue to some others. Some of the questions to start things out would be: can you remember the first time you heard this? Where were you? Who were you with? You use the music to help the person tell her story, what her life was like and what was important to her, what made her happy. She cautioned us about harp music, telling us about a piece she chose for a hospital patient. Unfortunately a patient in the next room was scheduled for surgery that morning, a very complicated surgery involving several doctors in the operating suite. That patient heard the music, thought it was a "sign" that he was going to die in surgery, and cancelled the whole proceedings. The therapist said she had two doctors very unhappy with her.  When people are very ill or dying, she cautioned us to pick very simple music with a single instrument, not symphonies or intricate pieces with multiple harmonies. The former may be very relaxing, soothing to them. The latter is more likely to be agitating: the brain can't follow it. Many hospices have music therapists on staff, and musicians who can come to a person's home to play for them. We have players and CDs, and I've never done much with them. Now that I know how I could use music to evoke memories, I'll enjoy trying it. I haven't made use of the CSs much yet, but I have sung with a few patients recently. I used to play guitar and sing sometimes in the hospital to patients who were stuck there for a long time in traction, etc, but I'd kind of forgotten about it. Just singing with a man last week was good. He offered, "Abide with Me," and that gave his wife a great deal of comfort when I told her today about his singing and his choice. She felt like maybe he is ready to die, and she was relieved.  Give the gift of yourself to someone today. Your presence will mean so much to someone who is lonely, handicapped, unable to get around. (And many more...) |
| This is probably my only chance to blog today because it's time to start supper and I have a meeting to go to tonight. The day offered nothing particularly bloggable, every activity being punctuated with sneezing, dripping and snuffing. It came on suddenly, feels like allergies. Last year I'd have a day or so of it every few weeks minimum, but now it's been months since my last attack. Nothing seems to help it, although going to the garden to pick tomatoes made it worse. So much grass seed and pollen in the air! Bill finally got the ceiling lights up in the living room yesterday, and they look very nice. The old ones were made of vertical sheets of smoky plastic, so 70's. Or was that 80's? Anyway, outdated. Did I tell you the clock on the oven broke? It began to make a terrible, continual squeal, and I was afraid something might catch on fire, not to mention that it was nerve-wracking. So Bill disconnected it permanently. Pity that I no longer have a way to start a roast while I'm at work, or even clean the oven (other than by hand!) Darn, ovens are expensive though, and every new kitchen has full size stoves instead of cooktops and built-in ovens that are a better height for getting hot juicy pans in and out of. Why is that, do you suppose? Why would people rather have a stove with that old fashioned hood over it? I love my Jenn-Air cooktop with the built-in fan that sucks the smoke down and out. Darn, the kitchen was the one room I wasn't planning to have to redo before we're ready to sell and move. Now every room needs fixing and/or updating. Sniff. |
| This is just a lazy, late summer day. It was renewal Sunday at church, the day when Sunday school starts again and the choir is back from vacation, and the crowd is usually pretty good. We always have a Ministry Fair that Sunday, with displays and signup sheets for all the kinds of programs and ministries that go on there in the church. I’ve always thought we should have representation for the different ministries people are part of outside the church as well, but have never sold anybody on that idea. Maybe if I suggested if for a different Sunday, say, in January, and organized it myself it would fly. Many people are active volunteers at Christian Aid, Meals on Wheels, Hospice, 4H, Boy Scouts, Habitat for Humanity, Symphony Guild, AAUW, and the Humane Society, to name just a few. I think it would be good for us, and maybe surprising for many, to see how many people do donate time and effort throughout the community. Sigh. I guess that means I ought to organize something, and organization is not one of my skills. I don’t understand why some people have that gift and I don’t. (Neither did my mother or my husband.  ) I’m not good at organizing my household, my work schedule, even my blogs. Every decision for a particular way to do something is a decision against the other ways I haven’t thought of yet that might be better. At least that’s the way it feels to me. Bill is sitting at the other laptop searching for possible airplane wreckage in Nevada on Google Earth. The pictures are updated and current to help everyone look for any sign of Steve Fossett, world famous aviator who piloted the first solo non-stop round the world airplane flight in 2005. He and his plane disappeared Monday, September 3. I peeled and sliced half a flat of nectarines to freeze. They are so tangy-sweet and slurpy-juicy this year that this is our second boxful; but I can see they won’t hold up much longer as lunchbox fruit. So we'll enjoy them in oatmeal this winter, and will remember these soft, summer days. As The 2000 Year Old Man used to say, "Nectarines-- half a peach, half a plum-- what a fruit!" |
| We had beautiful weather today for the annual hospice fundraiser, the Pond and Garden tour. This was our first time to go, and we had volunteered to greet visitors at one home from 1-5. Before then, after Bill got the car washed, we made it to five of the ten sites, all within about a ten mile radius. What lovely gardens! The first was enormous, about two acres at least, with an engineered stream about 50 ft long for its water feature. A waterfall was at the head of the stream by the patio, and the water moved fast, too fast for fish since it came to an end quickly. I don't think pond fish could be trained to swim upstream. The next house had a charming garden along the side yard with several small fountains tucked away in corners. There was a secluded firepit area, a swimming pool that was the clearest and bluest I've ever seen, and a cottage used as a gift shop. The back covered deck was partially screened by a wall of vines, and its large dining area was furnished with antiques and was, visually, an extension of the home's hospitality. That is to say, it wasn't, "Here's the house where we live. Here's the deck where we eat when the weather is nice." The personality of the place was seamless. The third house had a wide, steep, paved driveway that curved around the house to a plunging waterfall and koi pool of 8,000 gallons. The plantings were natural, the koi spectacular. The hostess told us she sometimes swims with them. The six bedroom home is for sale, and she said she'd probably have to sell the fish with the house, but she'd hate it. There were ten, and each was named. The fourth house had the smallest yard, only about twenty feet on three sides of the fence. It was very cleverly done, with a small pond and bridge next to the house and a fountain made of drilled pillow basalt near the dryer vent "where nothing will grow." One corner of the yard had a weeping cherry tree with its branches trained and pruned to form a roof over a three-sided playhouse with a chalkboard on the wall. The pruned tomato plants climbed stakes from ground to roof at a corner of the house, with herbs all around the base. The plain grass area on the far side of the house was used for a dog run, and was adorned with canine sculptures at the border dividing it from the rest of the yard. We spent the afternoon in the courtyard of a home, greeting people as they came up the driveway. There was a large, three tiered fountain in the corner, with a ceramic heron standing beside us. Several birds flew down for drinks. The backyard there had several fountains and a small pond. The interesting features there were the steeply terraced back of the lot where three rows of grapevines grew. There was another fountain there beneath the grapes in the center. They harvest 450 pounds of grapes from those short rows, and the grapes are used by a local vintner for wine. One corner of the yard below had a large fire pit on a flagstone floor with comfortable seating all around. There were many sculptures in the garden, but my favorite was the grouping of iron cattails on a greenery island beneath a sumac tree. I think I'll have a link to these gardens and more next week. Happy weekend. |
| The air is very still out my high window this morning, and the angle of the sunlight coming across the branches clearly spells the end of summer. Some leaves are in full brightness, others in dark shadow. There is a poignant look about the quiet scene, poised for change, but I suspect it is only in the eye of the beholder. Yesterday I thought about focus, and how we use a small bit that we have a clear picture of, and amplify it. Peek through the porthole and see the whole ocean. Take a tiny bit of dialogue, add a few gestures, and you’ve created a character with personality. Gaze at the treetops, motionless against the pale sky, and feel the threshold mood. Today I remember a different kind of focus. When we were in England seven years ago, there had been an outbreak of mad cow disease and also hoof and mouth, as I recall. It was April, and we were driving between York and Lincoln, and we made a wrong turn. To go back in the direction we intended to go, we took a very small road that wound its way through hills and sheep farms, stopping us from time to time to go through great pans of disinfectant. It began to snow, and we tried to take pictures of the beautiful sheep who might be goners soon. The wet snowflakes slashed against the windows, and the camera insisted on focusing on them instead of beyond the glass and on the sheep, who stood along the fence right beside the narrow road. Most of the pictures came out blurred. When we focus on something directly in front of our eyes, not only might we obscure what we are trying to see, but we can easily make mountains out of molehills. What is right before us appears so large. It threatens to engulf us, and the best correction is to step back rather than try to fight it off. Other times, that focus on what is closest at hand, our breathing, say, helps to calm our inner being. If I take a few moments to close my eyes and count my breaths, paying attention to the movement of my abdomen as I inhale, paying attention to the feeling in my nostrils and the sound in my ears as I exhale, I will feel more whole, more attuned to myself. Maybe our bodies are like instruments that we need to tune up, tightening this string a little, loosening this one. I’m sure that’s true of exercise, that it keeps our joints oiled and our muscles supple. I suppose our minds and our spirits need some focus too, for two different reasons, but still a tightening and a relaxing. Working sudokus is relaxing to me. It pinpoints my eyes, my pencil and my mind on the numbers in front of me, and the rest of the world falls away. I forget about the new patient I have to visit today, who is an infant, and the anxiety I feel about meeting the family. I forget about the sound of Bill hollering in my ear this morning as he crunched his knee against the corner of the cabinet, jangling my nerves as well as his poor leg. Staring out this window, or becoming aware of my breathing, do the same thing. They quiet my mind. My energy, that was dispersed every which way by various stressors, comes back to me. Now, I can focus on what is ahead.  .....  ..... ..... ..... For those of you who wanted an occasional diet up-date, here it is. One of the many things I hate about dieting is the focus on food, on planning and making the meals, etc. It is so time consuming! It doesn't make sense to me to have food on the brain all the time. This is day 3, and the Nutri-System diet takes more time to plan than Atkins did. There it was a simple meat and salad. Now I have to add in fruits and dairy and low glycemic carbs and fat at appropriate times. Bill wanted to try the pancakes for breakfast, and they have to be made from the mix provided, just add milk. Each packet made two pancakes, and they were tasty. Fortunately I had sugar free syrup, which they don't mention or provide. Fortunately or not, I had bought a package of bacon to use, no more than one slice at a time, maybe even half a slice, so that I could cook Bill an allowable fresh egg occasionally. He had three strips in the pan this morning, to cook the pancakes in, and I'm sure that's more than our whole day's fat allowance, maybe even the whole week! Pancakes do soak up the grease. Well, that's our bad for the day, and it did make them flavorful. |
| I am sitting in the living room, facing the wall where there used to be no window, only an air conditioning unit fitted into a hole. Now there is a window there, twice the length of the old hole and, like it, up high, its top just a foot from the ceiling. Through it I can see the upper branches of two cedar trees in my neighbor's yard, like streamers in the wind. In the corner of the window, in the foreground, large leaves from our linden tree are flapping. The sky beyond them is blue. It's a very pleasant view, to watch the movement in this small, well-defined area, more dramatic to me because of the contrast with the old blank wall. It's as if there is life in a place where I never knew it existed before. It makes me smile. If the whole wall were a window, I would not see this particular part, not in this way. It would be good, even better maybe to have more windows, but it would be different. This focuses my eyes toward a specific. Any of you who are far-sighted, literally, have you learned the trick of making your hand into a little spy glass so that, in the shower without your glasses, you can read the labels to know if it's shampoo or conditioner you're picking up? It's very handy for when you turn forty and suddenly you can't read anything without glasses. It's good for telephone numbers of course, not novels! I don't know why it works, why the smaller aperture to look through makes the words look bigger, but it does. It's a matter of focus. Focusing makes me think of writing, and how we carefully choose the words and gestures for our characters, picking ones that will expand the reader's mind and make a statement above and beyond what is said. "Eleanor watched the comings and goings of her world though one tiny window," I might say, implying the geography of her mind as much as of her living room. "She stood in front of her roll-top desk, deciding which of the papers in her hands belonged in which cubby-hole. Her monthly retirement benefit was apportioned just as clearly in her mind, as were her children, her friends, and their lives. Everyone and everything had its place, and she allotted her attention accordingly." Now, I have no idea where, if anywhere, I'm going with that, other than wishing I could stay home today and play with it. Your new word for the day: pericope. That means, for instance in scripture, one small story picked out from the rest, one coherent unit of thought found in a few verses. For those of us who like the sounds of words, it doesn't rhyme with 'periscope.' It has four syllables, with the accent on the second. Looking for a pericope and thinking about it, playing with it, is a way to let the Bible, or any other book, speak personally to us. What have your eyes focused on today that spoke to you? |
| We made it successfully through the first Nutri-System day, and the food was fairly tasty and we feel fairly full. That's saying a lot. There are several information items that leave a lot to be desired. First, the ad clearly says nothing to weigh or measure; and yet, when you get into it, you find that the diet includes such additions as half a cup of cooked rice or pasta, or a third of a cup of beans. The fruit portions that are part of the day's meal are also not provided, and you have to look up to see what's allowed and how much. Salads, they say, are unlimited, including lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, radishes, etc. But then when they want you to have two servings of vegetables, the list to choose from limits you to, for instance, 1/2 cup of spinach, cabbage or mushrooms per serving, items that were unrestricted in the salad list. There are other choices too, which are unique to the veggie list: broccoli, eggplant, green beans, etc. Here's my second major gripe, and that is that the information isn't organized in an eye-catching and handy way. There ought to be a packet at the top of the box of groceries that tells you what you have and what, additionally, you'll need. All this information is tucked into the back of the daily diary, not in an upfront handy place to use to figure out shopping lists and menus. There's a whole booklet on exercise, but the diet itself is sort of shoved into the closet. Okay, I won't bore you with any more diet stuff. What else can I share that's funny? Oh, while we were in Newberg, the family came over to swim at the motel pool with us. There was another little girl there who was also six. She wanted to know if Lucy had her ears pierced yet, and how many teeth she'd lost. So now we know the kindergarten agenda. |
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