It was my turn to write the newspaper's editorial for our Christmas week edition. It's not an assignment I enjoy. I was supposed to write something about the holidays, but I didn't really feel that happy, thank you very much.
It was just after Lady Visine's dear Spouse had died, just as my father-in-law was preparing for his heart surgery. And I was also thinking about some of the blog friends I haven't heard from for a long time; about S, who I was especially missing around that time. And maybe I was feeling a little lonely. I wasn't feeling happy.
So this is what I wrote. I'll leave it for you to think about as 2007 ends and 2008 begins.
[QUOTE]A wistfulness pervades the air this time of year. The old year is nearly over, and we inevitably look back. We do a lot of thinking about what has happened in the last 12 months, both the happy memories and the sad ones.
Some people we know spend their lives looking in the rear-view mirror of their memory. We have always pre-ferred the view out the windshield—after all, how are you going to get anywhere if you’re not looking forward?
But the last half of December is different. We think about the things we have done and didn’t do and should have done and maybe shouldn’t have. We think about the people we know, the friends we love and hold dear in our heart.
Absent friends—those who have moved away, those who have died and those whom we simply haven’t seen very much recently. We remember the last kiss we shared, the last warm hug, the last laugh, the last drink we quaffed together. At that time, we never thought it would be the last one.
Sometimes you see something or hear a piece of music or something someone says—and the memories come flooding back. We sit and remember and wish those good times could come back somehow. Sometimes they can. Sometimes they can only live on in memory. Treasured memory.
Have you lost someone this year? You are hardly alone. All of us write our own story, our own joys and heartaches. The cast always changes. People exit the stage of our lives, never to return.
Then new characters enter. New people come who maybe are also feeling a little lost and lonely and who are looking for a friend. Maybe you’re the person each other is looking for. But how will you know if you don’t look out that windshield and think about the future?
Dan Fogelberg died recently. I don’t know if you know his music, but he had some really thoughtful, perceptive songs. The one running through my head for the last few days was “Another Auld Lang Syne.”
It tells the story of a chance meeting between two people who were once lovers, and how the memories came rushing back to both of them. They spent a little time remembering together, and then they part again.
And now we’re at that time of year ourselves, thinking about the ones who are gone from our lives, remembering the good times we shared together. The ghost of Christmas past.
It’s OK. We all do that this time of year. Next week we can look ahead to 2008. But not right now. Let’s enjoy the warm thoughts for a while.
Let’s also enjoy each other during this holiday season. We can’t see what lies ahead. Probably that’s just as well. But we have today. Our reality today is the people who are now around us—our friends, our family, the people we meet every day.
Tomorrow, today will be yesterday. So let’s enjoy today. Tomorrow may be too late.[/QUOTE]
To all my dear friends here on efx2blogs.com, I wish all of you a wonderful new year, filled with thrills and happy excitement and wonderful memories.
Tomorrow, today will be yesterday. So let's enjoy today. Tomorrow may be too late.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
My inscrutable son
In the end, we didn't have to resort to needles under the fingernails. My older son revealed a little about his life during the final night of his truncated holiday visit with us. He even volunteered the information.
More on that later. After getting home from the funeral on Christmas Eve night, we had some wrush-wrush wrapping to do. My wife and I quickly came to an agreement: We'll wrap the stuff for the kids. For each other, we'll just pull things out of bags and give them to each other--naked. The gifts, that is.
That made the wrapping business go a lot faster. We got to bed at a decent hour, slept a little later than usual (warned the kids first; the extra hour or so of shuteye was very welcome) and got down to the business of opening gifts at 10 a.m.
First of all, my wife gave me my birthday gift: a bag of root beer barrel candies. I like root beer, if you don't know.
Then off to the other stuff. I'll spare you the play by play. The kids got various games and DVDs. David got the Simpsons Season 8 and Shrek 3. Phil got the Looney Tunes Collection 5 and an anime DVD disk, "Paprika." There were other things; this is what I can remember.
I got two anime DVDs from the "Basilisk" series. A DVD about the early Beatles, Pete Best era. A book about a fictional interview with Groucho Marx. And some fleece socks; nice, colorful, warm and comfy. Ordered them myself, for my wife to give me. I've been wearing nothing else since! On my feet, that is.
My wife must have been [I]very [/I]good. She got a Disney True-Life Adventures DVD, a Monk Season 2 set, a pair of IMAX movies and some Tom and Jerry cartoons. She likes Tom and Jerry.
She also got a pair of blouses. One she had seen before, since she tried it on; the other was discovered when I visited Fashion Bug just before Christmas and saw a dark blue, long-sleeved blouse with "sparklies" all over. She is a sucker for sparklies. Unfortunately, it was a little too small, so we'll take it back and exchange it for the next size up. She also got a Fashion Bug gift card. So she made out like a bandit. (She also had one last gift, which came out later.)
We visited my mom that afternoon, but, frankly, we were all feeling a little tired. Phil was in a good mood but wasn't being very talkative about how his life is going. He can be too damn inscrutable at times! My mom noticed and was disappointed. It was, after all, the first time they had been together in a year. She asked me to try to learn more before he leaves.
Wednesday night was his final night with us: He left Thursday morning. Late in the day, he let the cat out of the bag. David had left by then, so it was just my wife and I--and she was getting tired.
Phil hasn't had a girlfriend for quite a while. And he's 31. So we have no grandkids yet. Recently, he registered with eharmony.com and has been sounding optimistic about the results. He told us (during the Wednesday night talk) that he had been seeing someone for the last month, but he wasn't sure what was going on: She had told him that she needs to back off on it for the next month because she is a substitute teacher while also taking college courses; too busy.
We agreed he should talk it out with her to decide whether he should hang in there while she considers herself out of circulation. My thinking is: She's not going to be studying and correcting papers ALL the time; she's going to need some time to relax, and they could see each other then. All he needs to be is a low-maintenance boyfriend for a month. Didn't seem so difficult to me.
Maybe not to me, but it apparently was for her. He called back Sunday afternoon to say that they had met and and agreed to break it off for now--she's just too busy. He sounded disappointed. I said, well, at least you have closure on that and can move on. He agreed.
Sometimes I wonder whether it's that high a priority with him. What he is into now--passionately--is improvisational comedy. He is taking classes with a Second City-type group in the Detroit area and has been accepted in their next/more advanced program. So he's happy about that.
That ties up most of the loose ends from the holiday season. On New Year's Eve, my wife and David and I are going down to visit my mom, have dinner, do a little shopping (It's time to stock up on cat food again!) and see a movie. We were watching some trailers on my laptop earlier today, and "The Water Horse" looked interesting.
More on that later. After getting home from the funeral on Christmas Eve night, we had some wrush-wrush wrapping to do. My wife and I quickly came to an agreement: We'll wrap the stuff for the kids. For each other, we'll just pull things out of bags and give them to each other--naked. The gifts, that is.
That made the wrapping business go a lot faster. We got to bed at a decent hour, slept a little later than usual (warned the kids first; the extra hour or so of shuteye was very welcome) and got down to the business of opening gifts at 10 a.m.
First of all, my wife gave me my birthday gift: a bag of root beer barrel candies. I like root beer, if you don't know.
Then off to the other stuff. I'll spare you the play by play. The kids got various games and DVDs. David got the Simpsons Season 8 and Shrek 3. Phil got the Looney Tunes Collection 5 and an anime DVD disk, "Paprika." There were other things; this is what I can remember.
I got two anime DVDs from the "Basilisk" series. A DVD about the early Beatles, Pete Best era. A book about a fictional interview with Groucho Marx. And some fleece socks; nice, colorful, warm and comfy. Ordered them myself, for my wife to give me. I've been wearing nothing else since! On my feet, that is.
My wife must have been [I]very [/I]good. She got a Disney True-Life Adventures DVD, a Monk Season 2 set, a pair of IMAX movies and some Tom and Jerry cartoons. She likes Tom and Jerry.
She also got a pair of blouses. One she had seen before, since she tried it on; the other was discovered when I visited Fashion Bug just before Christmas and saw a dark blue, long-sleeved blouse with "sparklies" all over. She is a sucker for sparklies. Unfortunately, it was a little too small, so we'll take it back and exchange it for the next size up. She also got a Fashion Bug gift card. So she made out like a bandit. (She also had one last gift, which came out later.)
We visited my mom that afternoon, but, frankly, we were all feeling a little tired. Phil was in a good mood but wasn't being very talkative about how his life is going. He can be too damn inscrutable at times! My mom noticed and was disappointed. It was, after all, the first time they had been together in a year. She asked me to try to learn more before he leaves.
Wednesday night was his final night with us: He left Thursday morning. Late in the day, he let the cat out of the bag. David had left by then, so it was just my wife and I--and she was getting tired.
Phil hasn't had a girlfriend for quite a while. And he's 31. So we have no grandkids yet. Recently, he registered with eharmony.com and has been sounding optimistic about the results. He told us (during the Wednesday night talk) that he had been seeing someone for the last month, but he wasn't sure what was going on: She had told him that she needs to back off on it for the next month because she is a substitute teacher while also taking college courses; too busy.
We agreed he should talk it out with her to decide whether he should hang in there while she considers herself out of circulation. My thinking is: She's not going to be studying and correcting papers ALL the time; she's going to need some time to relax, and they could see each other then. All he needs to be is a low-maintenance boyfriend for a month. Didn't seem so difficult to me.
Maybe not to me, but it apparently was for her. He called back Sunday afternoon to say that they had met and and agreed to break it off for now--she's just too busy. He sounded disappointed. I said, well, at least you have closure on that and can move on. He agreed.
Sometimes I wonder whether it's that high a priority with him. What he is into now--passionately--is improvisational comedy. He is taking classes with a Second City-type group in the Detroit area and has been accepted in their next/more advanced program. So he's happy about that.
That ties up most of the loose ends from the holiday season. On New Year's Eve, my wife and David and I are going down to visit my mom, have dinner, do a little shopping (It's time to stock up on cat food again!) and see a movie. We were watching some trailers on my laptop earlier today, and "The Water Horse" looked interesting.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Home from the storm
We've made it through another holiday season. Just about. We still have New Year's ahead of us, but after what we went through during the run-up to Christmas, it should be a piece of cake.
Those circumstances, of course, included my father-in-law's heart operation Dec. 17 and his death two days later. It was sad, but he had become a sick man over the last few years, and the operation didn't seem to accomplish much except transfer some of my FIL's financial assets to the hospital's income statement. Pardon my cynicism about the American health care system, but in this case the shoe fits very well.
My wife had told me he sounded "resigned" to having the operation, as if he had been pushed into doing it and finally said yes to stop them from pushing more.
The family was sad, of course, and many were crying during the visitation, service and the burial. Neither my wife nor I did. We don't cry very easily, and we both knew very well what the chances were of a sick 78-year-old man surviving major heart surgery. We had been bracing ourselves for bad news for quite a while. So it goes.
Since a big snowstorm was on the way, we left for the funeral a day earlier than planned to avoid having to driving through the storm. We arrived Saturday evening and visited a cousin. The snow started moving in after dark.
The snow continued for most of Sunday. I went out in the morning to get breakfast, and we stayed at the motel most of Sunday, watching the Packers' awful performance during the windstorm at Chicago. But I had to go out during the afternoon to get David a different pair of pants before the wake started. By that time, about eight inches of snow had fallen.
A plow had made one pass through the lot, and I managed to back the car to that path OK. But then I came to a large ridge of snow that the plow had built. There was no way to get to the road except to plunge through this scale model of the Rocky Mountains. I gave the car a running start, gunned it when we hit the Rockies--and made it through to the other side. When we returned, I crossed at the same place.
It was the first of several running starts I had to make. Late that afternoon, we left for the visitation in town. (By then, the Rockies had been plowed away.) That involved driving down U.S. 8 through downtown Ladysmith. Most of the snow on the highway had been plowed up into a big windrow down the middle of the street. It was about five feet high and five feet wide--no way you could plow your way through the Himalayas.
These pictures were taken on Monday morning, but it looked the same Sunday evening. Here is the street at an intersection, looking down the highway ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LadSnow-US8-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
A little further down the highway, we saw a big snow blower attacking the mountain range, blowing the snow into big dump trucks ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Windrow-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Once filled, the dump truck would haul the snow away ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Bigtruck-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
... dump it and then return to the end of the line (far right) for another load ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Snowblow-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
When we turned onto a side street, it was the same thing, except the street was narrower. At intersections, where we had to stop at stop signs, we came upon intersecting windrows. Stop--then a running start and gun it over to the other side.
This one wasn't that big. But note the car coming from the other direction, just barely visible ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-SideStreet-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The snow was also blown into interesting patterns on the eaves at the funeral home ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Overhang-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Sunday night and Monday morning, we wondered what was happening back home--the forecast we read on the internet sounded ominous, and the radar images indicated heavy snow. The storm would be over Monday morning, and the parking area behind my house would be plowed out--but would we still have a foot of snow to shovel out on the walk leading to the house? That was on my mind as I drove home Monday afternoon.
Meanwhile, my son Phil was en route from Detroit. We called each other's cell phones to keep track of our progress--I was relieved to discover we would get home before he arrived. He doesn't have a key, after all.
Finally, at about 7 p.m. on Christmas Eve, we got home--to find that we had all of one inch of snow to deal with. That's all--most had fallen as rain. Phil arrived about 45 minutes later.
Because of the funeral and our trip out of town, he only had two full days here. Tonight was his last night--he hits the road Thursday morning. But we got to watch a movie together and talk for a while. It's probably our last face-to-face talk till next summer.
Those circumstances, of course, included my father-in-law's heart operation Dec. 17 and his death two days later. It was sad, but he had become a sick man over the last few years, and the operation didn't seem to accomplish much except transfer some of my FIL's financial assets to the hospital's income statement. Pardon my cynicism about the American health care system, but in this case the shoe fits very well.
My wife had told me he sounded "resigned" to having the operation, as if he had been pushed into doing it and finally said yes to stop them from pushing more.
The family was sad, of course, and many were crying during the visitation, service and the burial. Neither my wife nor I did. We don't cry very easily, and we both knew very well what the chances were of a sick 78-year-old man surviving major heart surgery. We had been bracing ourselves for bad news for quite a while. So it goes.
Since a big snowstorm was on the way, we left for the funeral a day earlier than planned to avoid having to driving through the storm. We arrived Saturday evening and visited a cousin. The snow started moving in after dark.
The snow continued for most of Sunday. I went out in the morning to get breakfast, and we stayed at the motel most of Sunday, watching the Packers' awful performance during the windstorm at Chicago. But I had to go out during the afternoon to get David a different pair of pants before the wake started. By that time, about eight inches of snow had fallen.
A plow had made one pass through the lot, and I managed to back the car to that path OK. But then I came to a large ridge of snow that the plow had built. There was no way to get to the road except to plunge through this scale model of the Rocky Mountains. I gave the car a running start, gunned it when we hit the Rockies--and made it through to the other side. When we returned, I crossed at the same place.
It was the first of several running starts I had to make. Late that afternoon, we left for the visitation in town. (By then, the Rockies had been plowed away.) That involved driving down U.S. 8 through downtown Ladysmith. Most of the snow on the highway had been plowed up into a big windrow down the middle of the street. It was about five feet high and five feet wide--no way you could plow your way through the Himalayas.
These pictures were taken on Monday morning, but it looked the same Sunday evening. Here is the street at an intersection, looking down the highway ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/LadSnow-US8-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
A little further down the highway, we saw a big snow blower attacking the mountain range, blowing the snow into big dump trucks ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Windrow-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Once filled, the dump truck would haul the snow away ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Bigtruck-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
... dump it and then return to the end of the line (far right) for another load ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Snowblow-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
When we turned onto a side street, it was the same thing, except the street was narrower. At intersections, where we had to stop at stop signs, we came upon intersecting windrows. Stop--then a running start and gun it over to the other side.
This one wasn't that big. But note the car coming from the other direction, just barely visible ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-SideStreet-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The snow was also blown into interesting patterns on the eaves at the funeral home ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Ladsnow-Overhang-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Sunday night and Monday morning, we wondered what was happening back home--the forecast we read on the internet sounded ominous, and the radar images indicated heavy snow. The storm would be over Monday morning, and the parking area behind my house would be plowed out--but would we still have a foot of snow to shovel out on the walk leading to the house? That was on my mind as I drove home Monday afternoon.
Meanwhile, my son Phil was en route from Detroit. We called each other's cell phones to keep track of our progress--I was relieved to discover we would get home before he arrived. He doesn't have a key, after all.
Finally, at about 7 p.m. on Christmas Eve, we got home--to find that we had all of one inch of snow to deal with. That's all--most had fallen as rain. Phil arrived about 45 minutes later.
Because of the funeral and our trip out of town, he only had two full days here. Tonight was his last night--he hits the road Thursday morning. But we got to watch a movie together and talk for a while. It's probably our last face-to-face talk till next summer.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Hightailing it west
First of all, thanks to all of you who passed along such kind words for my wife after her father died this week. Alas, the holiday season is a bit of an afterthought for us this year. But I have some updates to pass along.
That phone call to my mom wasn't so bad. She started crying when I told him he had died, but then I reminded her that his suffering is over, and he has gone off to rejoin his wife he had been separated from for five years. That made her feel a little better about it. (By the way, my dad died 12 years ago.)
My FIL died at the age of 78--making him the member of his family who has lived the longest. My mom is 85 now and doing fairly well.
The rest of this has to do a lot with the weather and the funeral. It has been scheduled for Monday morning (yes, Christmas Eve), with the wake on Sunday night. Our original plan was to drive over there on Sunday afternoon--it's about a four-hour drive in good weather.
Then we started paying attention to the weather forecast ... and as a result, we will leave about noon Saturday. A big winter storm is bearing down on this area. Its biggest impact (heavy snow and high winds) will be right where I live, and the swath of snow includes most of northern Wisconsin--my entire route.
The forecast says the storm will hit here overnight Saturday and last most of Sunday. No, I don't want to drive through that. So we plan to leave at noon today and hightail it west across northern Wisconsin to Ladysmith, WI, where the services will be held.
The forecast says, I'll drive through rain and fog that changes to snow as I head west--but the snow won't be too heavy until after we get to Ladysmith--it really gets cranking overnight. I've already reserved motel rooms. Tonight, we can visit a sister or two, or we can stay at the motel. Sunday, the storm will be blowing outside most of the day. Fortunately, the motel has a restaurant next door. (It's also got internet, so I'll take my laptop along.)
I'll bring a collapsible shovel--the wake is still set for Sunday evening, and we'll have to get there.
Even so, that's much preferable to the absolute hell of driving through a heavy snowstorm. Our only storm driving will be in town, and I can handle that.
Also, it now looks like my older son will be able to get home for Christmas after all. The new plan is that he will drive up on Monday from Detroit--the Lower Peninsula misses nearly all the storm. I told him to arrive Monday around 7 or 8 p.m.--I'm hoping we'll be back from the funeral by then.
Once we get back home, we start some extremely hurried preparations for The Big Day. What with my wife's job, she hasn't had much time to clean up the house, so it will be a rush-rush thing for both of us. He will be staying here two days instead of three (the original plan)--but he'll be here, and that's the main thing. We'll all drive down to visit my mom, of course.
I should clue you in on one thing about him. He just turned 31 and is still single--lives with his cat in a suburb north of Detroit. But he has been using a web dating site--and now he is being extremely secretive about what has happened as a result. So if we have a little time, my wife and I will try to get the cat out of the bag. At least a paw.
That--not Christmas morning--could be the most entertaining event of his short visit home.
That phone call to my mom wasn't so bad. She started crying when I told him he had died, but then I reminded her that his suffering is over, and he has gone off to rejoin his wife he had been separated from for five years. That made her feel a little better about it. (By the way, my dad died 12 years ago.)
My FIL died at the age of 78--making him the member of his family who has lived the longest. My mom is 85 now and doing fairly well.
The rest of this has to do a lot with the weather and the funeral. It has been scheduled for Monday morning (yes, Christmas Eve), with the wake on Sunday night. Our original plan was to drive over there on Sunday afternoon--it's about a four-hour drive in good weather.
Then we started paying attention to the weather forecast ... and as a result, we will leave about noon Saturday. A big winter storm is bearing down on this area. Its biggest impact (heavy snow and high winds) will be right where I live, and the swath of snow includes most of northern Wisconsin--my entire route.
The forecast says the storm will hit here overnight Saturday and last most of Sunday. No, I don't want to drive through that. So we plan to leave at noon today and hightail it west across northern Wisconsin to Ladysmith, WI, where the services will be held.
The forecast says, I'll drive through rain and fog that changes to snow as I head west--but the snow won't be too heavy until after we get to Ladysmith--it really gets cranking overnight. I've already reserved motel rooms. Tonight, we can visit a sister or two, or we can stay at the motel. Sunday, the storm will be blowing outside most of the day. Fortunately, the motel has a restaurant next door. (It's also got internet, so I'll take my laptop along.)
I'll bring a collapsible shovel--the wake is still set for Sunday evening, and we'll have to get there.
Even so, that's much preferable to the absolute hell of driving through a heavy snowstorm. Our only storm driving will be in town, and I can handle that.
Also, it now looks like my older son will be able to get home for Christmas after all. The new plan is that he will drive up on Monday from Detroit--the Lower Peninsula misses nearly all the storm. I told him to arrive Monday around 7 or 8 p.m.--I'm hoping we'll be back from the funeral by then.
Once we get back home, we start some extremely hurried preparations for The Big Day. What with my wife's job, she hasn't had much time to clean up the house, so it will be a rush-rush thing for both of us. He will be staying here two days instead of three (the original plan)--but he'll be here, and that's the main thing. We'll all drive down to visit my mom, of course.
I should clue you in on one thing about him. He just turned 31 and is still single--lives with his cat in a suburb north of Detroit. But he has been using a web dating site--and now he is being extremely secretive about what has happened as a result. So if we have a little time, my wife and I will try to get the cat out of the bag. At least a paw.
That--not Christmas morning--could be the most entertaining event of his short visit home.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Sad phone calls
As we come into the holiday homestretch and I struggle with early deadlines and various demands of various kinds, my mind was on the drama taking place in a hospital in Eau Claire, Wis., where my father-in-law had major heart surgery on Monday.
The skinny is that we are going to a funeral in the next few days.
I could retype everything I wrote to S earlier today. But I'll just use copy and paste. It's faster.
This first e-mail was sent at 10:45 this morning ...
[I]My father-in-law had his operation on Monday. It seemed at first (again, this is all second- and third-hand info) that things went well--he seemed to handle the operation OK.
But he had a great deal of discomfort during the night, and before dawn on Tuesday, the doctors took him to the operating room again to put in a balloon pump. The phone call from a daughter who was urging everyone to come see him while they can--he was heavily sedated, so he wouldn't be aware of our presence; rather for our sake. My wife had talked to him on Sunday morning, just before they took him down to Eau Claire; anyway, we are six hours or so from Eau Claire, and we both had busy days ahead of us. We both are at peace with everything and with him.
I went down to Iron Mountain to do some last minute shopping and to visit my mom Tuesday. Then I covered a wrestling meet once I got back to town. While I was gone, my wife talked to her sister again. He seems to have stabilized during the day, after two separate operations on Tuesday morning (the second was to drain fluid around his heart). Her sister told her that they gave him 32 units of blood. Really? I looked it up, and the adult human body only has 12 units of blood in it--a unit is a little less than a pint. So take that with a few grains of salt. They did give him blood, though, but I doubt it was 32 units. That doesn't sound right.
So the latest is that he is doing better. As for what happens next, we'll let the Divine take care of that. We are trying to keep our plans for the holidays as flexible as possible, in case we have to throw it out the window. For what it's worth, there were no phone calls or e-mails on Wednesday morning, so things seem to be more stable. Or maybe it's that no news is good news. [/I]
Just after a few minutes after I sent that off, my wife called--it was time for me to drive her to work. This was sent around noon ...
[I]
Updating from what I just sent an hour or so ago.
While driving my wife to work a little while ago, she told me she talked to a sister this morning. The news is that they have a DNR order on him now, and she thinks it's very possible he will die today. They briefly discussed when they should hold the funeral. Is Saturday OK? Is Monday OK?
Tough time of year for this, of course. She also asked me to call my son in Detroit (which I just did), telling him what the situation is and giving him the option to stay down there if the main activity of his Christmas visit would be driving back and forth to a funeral.
So I've got my cell phone on again (usually I have it off), in case someone calls in. My wife, by the way, said not to call her at work; she knows what the situation is, and she can talk to her sisters this evening--we'll both be home.[/I]
And that's it. I sent that off and then walked to the pasty place next door--it's Wednesday, and they only sell pizza pasties on Wednesday. As I returned and was taking off my coat, the phone in my pocket rang. It was one of my sisters-in-law, telling me that he died about 11:20--about the time my wife and I were talking in the car.
Since then, I have phoned both the sons and told them the news. I did not call my wife, per her request. It wouldn't matter, anyway. If she wants to call me during her break, that's up to her.
Those calls were fairly easy. I've got one phone call still to make, and that one is going to be really hard: my mom. I told her what his situation was when I visited her yesterday--how he had to have the second operation that morning--and she started to cry.
No, I'm not looking forward to that one at all.
The skinny is that we are going to a funeral in the next few days.
I could retype everything I wrote to S earlier today. But I'll just use copy and paste. It's faster.
This first e-mail was sent at 10:45 this morning ...
[I]My father-in-law had his operation on Monday. It seemed at first (again, this is all second- and third-hand info) that things went well--he seemed to handle the operation OK.
But he had a great deal of discomfort during the night, and before dawn on Tuesday, the doctors took him to the operating room again to put in a balloon pump. The phone call from a daughter who was urging everyone to come see him while they can--he was heavily sedated, so he wouldn't be aware of our presence; rather for our sake. My wife had talked to him on Sunday morning, just before they took him down to Eau Claire; anyway, we are six hours or so from Eau Claire, and we both had busy days ahead of us. We both are at peace with everything and with him.
I went down to Iron Mountain to do some last minute shopping and to visit my mom Tuesday. Then I covered a wrestling meet once I got back to town. While I was gone, my wife talked to her sister again. He seems to have stabilized during the day, after two separate operations on Tuesday morning (the second was to drain fluid around his heart). Her sister told her that they gave him 32 units of blood. Really? I looked it up, and the adult human body only has 12 units of blood in it--a unit is a little less than a pint. So take that with a few grains of salt. They did give him blood, though, but I doubt it was 32 units. That doesn't sound right.
So the latest is that he is doing better. As for what happens next, we'll let the Divine take care of that. We are trying to keep our plans for the holidays as flexible as possible, in case we have to throw it out the window. For what it's worth, there were no phone calls or e-mails on Wednesday morning, so things seem to be more stable. Or maybe it's that no news is good news. [/I]
Just after a few minutes after I sent that off, my wife called--it was time for me to drive her to work. This was sent around noon ...
[I]
Updating from what I just sent an hour or so ago.
While driving my wife to work a little while ago, she told me she talked to a sister this morning. The news is that they have a DNR order on him now, and she thinks it's very possible he will die today. They briefly discussed when they should hold the funeral. Is Saturday OK? Is Monday OK?
Tough time of year for this, of course. She also asked me to call my son in Detroit (which I just did), telling him what the situation is and giving him the option to stay down there if the main activity of his Christmas visit would be driving back and forth to a funeral.
So I've got my cell phone on again (usually I have it off), in case someone calls in. My wife, by the way, said not to call her at work; she knows what the situation is, and she can talk to her sisters this evening--we'll both be home.[/I]
And that's it. I sent that off and then walked to the pasty place next door--it's Wednesday, and they only sell pizza pasties on Wednesday. As I returned and was taking off my coat, the phone in my pocket rang. It was one of my sisters-in-law, telling me that he died about 11:20--about the time my wife and I were talking in the car.
Since then, I have phoned both the sons and told them the news. I did not call my wife, per her request. It wouldn't matter, anyway. If she wants to call me during her break, that's up to her.
Those calls were fairly easy. I've got one phone call still to make, and that one is going to be really hard: my mom. I told her what his situation was when I visited her yesterday--how he had to have the second operation that morning--and she started to cry.
No, I'm not looking forward to that one at all.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
The way it is in December
Life just gets way too hectic and crazy during December. This one seems more hectic and crazy than most.
Work has been very demanding lately. I've had many things to cover, and there hasn't been much time for fun and relaxation. Heck, there is almost no time for fun and relaxation. Not right now. Unless you count the last couple hours of the day before I go to bed.
The basketball schedule has been manic. They shortened the season by one week this year, with the same number of games squeezed into it. Some teams are playing three games a week--one of our girls teams has [I]consecutive [/I]three-game weeks in late January. Someone is going to have to explain to me how that is good for high school kids. And I'm a one-person sports department, trying to cover everything. I try. I just get discouraged at times.
Of course, if we have a major snowstorm or a long period of subzero weather--cold enough to close the schools--then games will be postponed or canceled, and the schedule becomes utter chaos. Such things been known to happen. This is the U.P., after all.
My wife has been working six hours a day, five days a week at the call center. On Saturday, she chose to take an extra eight-hour day. (I was going out of town to cover an important boys game, so it didn't affect our time together.) She finally got out at 6:30, I picked her up and took her out for supper. She went to bed about 10:30--I stayed up a while later. But we had some cuddle time this morning--before I went off to the office to do some writing. This afternoon, the usual--as I watched the Packers game, she sat next to me, pulled a quilt around us and dozed off.
Earlier Sunday morning, she called her dad--they were going to drive him down for the operation a few hours later. Later, she told me he sounded "resigned" to the operation. And that tells me he was talked into it, as we suspect. I already warned the staff at the office; depending on how things go Monday, my schedule could turn upside down this week. You have been duly warned.
(The operation could be postponed if a blood test indicates his platelet level is not at a level it has to be.)
Because of the holidays, we have an early deadline this week. And I have plenty of sports to cover this week. It's a madhouse, I tell you. Usually my work is fun. Right now, it's not that much fun.
One other thing I can tell you about: our office Christmas party, which took place on Saturday night, a week ago.
Really, not a lot to tell. It took place at a local restaurant/pub. We sat around the bar for drinks for a while and talked among ourselves. Then we went in the back for a steak dinner. It was nice and orderly and conservative and dull. Just like our paper. You'll never see mistletoe at our Christmas parties. And if it happens to be there, nobody would know what to do with it, anyway.
Work has been very demanding lately. I've had many things to cover, and there hasn't been much time for fun and relaxation. Heck, there is almost no time for fun and relaxation. Not right now. Unless you count the last couple hours of the day before I go to bed.
The basketball schedule has been manic. They shortened the season by one week this year, with the same number of games squeezed into it. Some teams are playing three games a week--one of our girls teams has [I]consecutive [/I]three-game weeks in late January. Someone is going to have to explain to me how that is good for high school kids. And I'm a one-person sports department, trying to cover everything. I try. I just get discouraged at times.
Of course, if we have a major snowstorm or a long period of subzero weather--cold enough to close the schools--then games will be postponed or canceled, and the schedule becomes utter chaos. Such things been known to happen. This is the U.P., after all.
My wife has been working six hours a day, five days a week at the call center. On Saturday, she chose to take an extra eight-hour day. (I was going out of town to cover an important boys game, so it didn't affect our time together.) She finally got out at 6:30, I picked her up and took her out for supper. She went to bed about 10:30--I stayed up a while later. But we had some cuddle time this morning--before I went off to the office to do some writing. This afternoon, the usual--as I watched the Packers game, she sat next to me, pulled a quilt around us and dozed off.
Earlier Sunday morning, she called her dad--they were going to drive him down for the operation a few hours later. Later, she told me he sounded "resigned" to the operation. And that tells me he was talked into it, as we suspect. I already warned the staff at the office; depending on how things go Monday, my schedule could turn upside down this week. You have been duly warned.
(The operation could be postponed if a blood test indicates his platelet level is not at a level it has to be.)
Because of the holidays, we have an early deadline this week. And I have plenty of sports to cover this week. It's a madhouse, I tell you. Usually my work is fun. Right now, it's not that much fun.
One other thing I can tell you about: our office Christmas party, which took place on Saturday night, a week ago.
Really, not a lot to tell. It took place at a local restaurant/pub. We sat around the bar for drinks for a while and talked among ourselves. Then we went in the back for a steak dinner. It was nice and orderly and conservative and dull. Just like our paper. You'll never see mistletoe at our Christmas parties. And if it happens to be there, nobody would know what to do with it, anyway.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Question marks in the air
Does this sound like a really good idea?
Some of you remember my father-in-law's health problems from this past spring. He had a bad case of pneumonia that put him in the hospital, and he lost some of his heart function.
He had been seeing the doctors in Marshfield, Wis., who considered doing open-heart surgery on him. Then they decided not to, deciding it would just be too risky on a 78-year-old man who is not in good health. They feared he might die on the table.
In the last month or two, he has been seeing a different doctor, in Eau Claire, Wis. And what do you know? The new doctor wants to go ahead with the heart surgery. It has been scheduled for next Monday, Dec. 17.
My wife tells me they plan to (A) wrap (not remove) an aneurysm in his chest with something--the aneurysm has been there for years, and he had done nothing about it; (B) do one heart bypass--the one that will do him the most good (he needs five); and (C) repair/replace (my wife isn't sure; we're getting all this second or third-hand) one of his heart valves.
Frankly, my wife is rather dubious about the operation, as I am. She thinks his new doctor has talked/persuaded him into the operation. But the decision is totally out of our hands.
My wife, who told me earlier that she doubts he will make it through the winter, now wonders whether he will ever leave the hospital--he'll have to stay there three weeks or so after the surgery.
I think you can see we are both being "realistic" in our expectations. I hope the rest of the family is, too. They are planning a get-together at his place this weekend (just before the operation) and asked if we could come. We can't--both of us are too busy with work. We'll phone him instead.
At our weekly staff meeting yesterday, I told the others what is going on and warned that we may have to make a sudden trip to NW Wisconsin. If the operation goes well, we may visit him at the Eau Claire hospital around New Year's.
If it doesn't go well ... then I guess we'll be going over there, anyway.
And let's be honest here. His wife died in 2002, and he has been missing her ever since. He continued to live at their house along the Chippewa River, but he really seemed to lose the zest he had for living.
The last time we saw him was three months ago, over the Labor Day weekend, when the main focus was [URL="http://drdog.efx2blogs.com/5226/Guns+and+woodpiles.html"]filling his basement with firewood[/URL] for the long, long winter. The next several winters, in fact.
My wife is the oldest of eight children. The kids all look up to him, and many of them live near him. Which is strange, I think, because they were all raised in a little town north of Milwaukee. I was raised in a nearby suburb; I met my future wife via a high school classmate who worked at the same store as her. We met through a blind date, and I guess we hit it off.
She was the first of the eight to leave the nest, and most of the others (5 of the 8) wound up living near their parents, following them to NW Wisconsin. All have left the nest, but he seems the focus of their lives. When we visit, they're always calling him on the phone or popping over to visit. They seem to depend on his opinion about this and that. He doesn't get lonely--except for his wife, and nothing but death will be able to resolve that.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that when he passes, it's going to hit many of them quite hard. My wife, frankly, not that much. She phones him, but only every two or three weeks. The rest of "keeping in touch" is by e-mails or phone calls with her sisters. When I give her the option of visiting him when we're in the region (such as when we're driving past on our way to the Twin Cities--last summer's vacation, for instance, or my aunt's funeral last January), she often opts not to.
My wife and I talked a few weeks ago, before the surgery was planned: Are we going to visit her dad and siblings over the holidays, as we have done in the past? The decision was no; she'd rather stay around here. Then the surgery was planned, and we are now making tentative plans depending on what happens.
It's just one of many things that are hanging fire in my life: how long my mom will live (though her arrangements, including the funeral, are already set); when her house will sell; how long her dad will live; how long our cats will live--both are nearly 16 years old now, so they are getting to be elderly felines.
All those are question marks as 2007 draws to a close.
Some of you remember my father-in-law's health problems from this past spring. He had a bad case of pneumonia that put him in the hospital, and he lost some of his heart function.
He had been seeing the doctors in Marshfield, Wis., who considered doing open-heart surgery on him. Then they decided not to, deciding it would just be too risky on a 78-year-old man who is not in good health. They feared he might die on the table.
In the last month or two, he has been seeing a different doctor, in Eau Claire, Wis. And what do you know? The new doctor wants to go ahead with the heart surgery. It has been scheduled for next Monday, Dec. 17.
My wife tells me they plan to (A) wrap (not remove) an aneurysm in his chest with something--the aneurysm has been there for years, and he had done nothing about it; (B) do one heart bypass--the one that will do him the most good (he needs five); and (C) repair/replace (my wife isn't sure; we're getting all this second or third-hand) one of his heart valves.
Frankly, my wife is rather dubious about the operation, as I am. She thinks his new doctor has talked/persuaded him into the operation. But the decision is totally out of our hands.
My wife, who told me earlier that she doubts he will make it through the winter, now wonders whether he will ever leave the hospital--he'll have to stay there three weeks or so after the surgery.
I think you can see we are both being "realistic" in our expectations. I hope the rest of the family is, too. They are planning a get-together at his place this weekend (just before the operation) and asked if we could come. We can't--both of us are too busy with work. We'll phone him instead.
At our weekly staff meeting yesterday, I told the others what is going on and warned that we may have to make a sudden trip to NW Wisconsin. If the operation goes well, we may visit him at the Eau Claire hospital around New Year's.
If it doesn't go well ... then I guess we'll be going over there, anyway.
And let's be honest here. His wife died in 2002, and he has been missing her ever since. He continued to live at their house along the Chippewa River, but he really seemed to lose the zest he had for living.
The last time we saw him was three months ago, over the Labor Day weekend, when the main focus was [URL="http://drdog.efx2blogs.com/5226/Guns+and+woodpiles.html"]filling his basement with firewood[/URL] for the long, long winter. The next several winters, in fact.
My wife is the oldest of eight children. The kids all look up to him, and many of them live near him. Which is strange, I think, because they were all raised in a little town north of Milwaukee. I was raised in a nearby suburb; I met my future wife via a high school classmate who worked at the same store as her. We met through a blind date, and I guess we hit it off.
She was the first of the eight to leave the nest, and most of the others (5 of the 8) wound up living near their parents, following them to NW Wisconsin. All have left the nest, but he seems the focus of their lives. When we visit, they're always calling him on the phone or popping over to visit. They seem to depend on his opinion about this and that. He doesn't get lonely--except for his wife, and nothing but death will be able to resolve that.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that when he passes, it's going to hit many of them quite hard. My wife, frankly, not that much. She phones him, but only every two or three weeks. The rest of "keeping in touch" is by e-mails or phone calls with her sisters. When I give her the option of visiting him when we're in the region (such as when we're driving past on our way to the Twin Cities--last summer's vacation, for instance, or my aunt's funeral last January), she often opts not to.
My wife and I talked a few weeks ago, before the surgery was planned: Are we going to visit her dad and siblings over the holidays, as we have done in the past? The decision was no; she'd rather stay around here. Then the surgery was planned, and we are now making tentative plans depending on what happens.
It's just one of many things that are hanging fire in my life: how long my mom will live (though her arrangements, including the funeral, are already set); when her house will sell; how long her dad will live; how long our cats will live--both are nearly 16 years old now, so they are getting to be elderly felines.
All those are question marks as 2007 draws to a close.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Memories of a walk through the snow
Two years ago I made a long, long drive--the longest drive of my life--to visit my friend, S, who had left her home for a while and was living in Ontario. I had first met her during summer that year. We were only together for a day or so ... but that was long enough for a great many things to happen.
I decided to visit her for a few days in early December 2005. They are among the most memorable days of my life. Believe me, I could write a lot about it.
Instead, I'll focus mainly on one afternoon we had, when we took a trip to a nature reserve, about 20 miles away. It was a cold, sunny day, the temperature about 10F. She told me about this place, and I decided why not.
The place was called Sulpher Spring. After getting out of the car, we walked by a fence and a wooden bridge with geese swimming nearby ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-GooseBridge-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We walked by some sheltered outdoor cages, where a variety of pheasants were being kept. These are called phoenix birds ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-PhoenixBirds12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Nearby was a fenced enclosure with some deer inside ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-DeerField-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We decided to take a closer look, walking along the outside of the fence. The deer didn't scatter. Some came right up to S, who talked to them and gave them some treats from the woods nearby ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-deer12-05.jpg[/IMG]
The deer came to visit me, too. Talk to the hand ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-HiDeer12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Then we walked down a trail through the woods to where an artesian well bubbled to the surface--the Sulpher Spring. A sign explained that the water is a constant 9C (48F), so it never freezes ...
We walked down the trail together, as the late afternoon sun caught the upper branches ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-WoodsTrail-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
And we eventually got to the source of the spring itself, where the water comes up. It reflected the blue all around us ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulferSpring12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We turned around and retraced our steps, visiting the pheasants again. S talked to them ...
Daylight was fading quickly, as the deer came towards the headquarters building, where a fresh supply of hay was waiting for them ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-DeerFeeder-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
The spring that we had crossed earlier emptied into a little pond, and we saw dozens and dozens of Canada geese and mallard ducks swimming around, honking at times as the day faded away ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-GoldPond-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-Lake12-05.jpg[/IMG]
It was "the end" to our visit.
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-TheEnd12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We went back to where she was staying. The next morning, I woke around 6:30 a.m. and got up to look out the window. Then I turned and saw S lying in bed, sleeping on one arm, covers pulled up to her waist.
She looked so lovely and peaceful. I decided I had to try to get a picture in the low light of early morning, and I did.
But since some people are offended by pictures of the human body, I did some work on it with Photoshop Elements, and a slightly out-of-focus shot of a woman asleep in bed turned into this ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-Sasleep-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Maybe taking the picture was something I shouldn't have done. Maybe it was unfair to S, who doesn't know about it to this day. But I think it was a good thing. If one picture could symbolize that trip, this is the one. Along with the one up above, showing the footprints on the trail through the woods.
When I look at it now ... many emotions race through me. Love. Sadness. Loneliness. Regret that those days may be over. Joy that they did happen once. Hope that someday they will happen again.
I felt that way two years ago. I feel that way now.
[I]Since December 2005, S has moved back to Wisconsin and is back with her husband. We visited them last summer, and we hope to see them again in January or February. The tentative plan is a visit, dinner and a few movies. It will be nice to see them again.[/I]
I decided to visit her for a few days in early December 2005. They are among the most memorable days of my life. Believe me, I could write a lot about it.
Instead, I'll focus mainly on one afternoon we had, when we took a trip to a nature reserve, about 20 miles away. It was a cold, sunny day, the temperature about 10F. She told me about this place, and I decided why not.
The place was called Sulpher Spring. After getting out of the car, we walked by a fence and a wooden bridge with geese swimming nearby ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-GooseBridge-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We walked by some sheltered outdoor cages, where a variety of pheasants were being kept. These are called phoenix birds ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-PhoenixBirds12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Nearby was a fenced enclosure with some deer inside ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-DeerField-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We decided to take a closer look, walking along the outside of the fence. The deer didn't scatter. Some came right up to S, who talked to them and gave them some treats from the woods nearby ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-deer12-05.jpg[/IMG]
The deer came to visit me, too. Talk to the hand ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-HiDeer12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Then we walked down a trail through the woods to where an artesian well bubbled to the surface--the Sulpher Spring. A sign explained that the water is a constant 9C (48F), so it never freezes ...
We walked down the trail together, as the late afternoon sun caught the upper branches ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-WoodsTrail-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
And we eventually got to the source of the spring itself, where the water comes up. It reflected the blue all around us ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulferSpring12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We turned around and retraced our steps, visiting the pheasants again. S talked to them ...
Daylight was fading quickly, as the deer came towards the headquarters building, where a fresh supply of hay was waiting for them ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-DeerFeeder-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
The spring that we had crossed earlier emptied into a little pond, and we saw dozens and dozens of Canada geese and mallard ducks swimming around, honking at times as the day faded away ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-GoldPond-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-Lake12-05.jpg[/IMG]
It was "the end" to our visit.
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-TheEnd12-05.jpg[/IMG]
We went back to where she was staying. The next morning, I woke around 6:30 a.m. and got up to look out the window. Then I turned and saw S lying in bed, sleeping on one arm, covers pulled up to her waist.
She looked so lovely and peaceful. I decided I had to try to get a picture in the low light of early morning, and I did.
But since some people are offended by pictures of the human body, I did some work on it with Photoshop Elements, and a slightly out-of-focus shot of a woman asleep in bed turned into this ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/SulfSpr-Sasleep-12-05.jpg[/IMG]
Maybe taking the picture was something I shouldn't have done. Maybe it was unfair to S, who doesn't know about it to this day. But I think it was a good thing. If one picture could symbolize that trip, this is the one. Along with the one up above, showing the footprints on the trail through the woods.
When I look at it now ... many emotions race through me. Love. Sadness. Loneliness. Regret that those days may be over. Joy that they did happen once. Hope that someday they will happen again.
I felt that way two years ago. I feel that way now.
[I]Since December 2005, S has moved back to Wisconsin and is back with her husband. We visited them last summer, and we hope to see them again in January or February. The tentative plan is a visit, dinner and a few movies. It will be nice to see them again.[/I]
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
To flash or not to flash ...
Life is just never dull around here. After we returned from our long, long trip to the state football finals, we are spinning in new directions, in a number of ways.
On the Monday after we returned, my wife started working at the call center in town. She is taking orders for a highly seasonal company that sells gift baskets. People call on their 800 number and talk to someone at the call center (right here in town), who takes their order and credit card info and sends the order to the distribution center.
It's just for December, but we have to make some serious changes to our lives while it's going on. I'm driving her to the call center at 11 a.m. or so and picking her up at 5:30 p.m. Sometimes it's a very fast supper before I head off to a basketball game or wrestling meet. Tonight, I get to stay home. It's a busy time (for her, too), so we have to cooperate.
And we do. This is the second year she has done this, and she seems to be really enjoying the work. Maybe next year, she will take part-time work during the rest of the year, if it's available. Last year, the jobs started too early in the morning (she still doesn't like to get up early), and we had all the work at my mom's place anyway.
Just days after the football finals, the winter sports (basketball) season started locally. This is the first year Michigan has had the boys and girls seasons taking place at the same time, so it's a bit hectic. I think I'm going to be damn tired of basketball before it's all over. Besides, I prefer hockey, anyway.
Wrestling season also started last week, and an all-day tourney was held here on Saturday. I like wrestling more than basketball. Here's one of our guys facing a Negaunee opponent ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-grapplers-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Between matches, I took a look outside. When I arrived at the meet (9:30 a.m.), it was just cloudy. By about noon, the clouds seemed to have broken up into billions of tiny little pieces that were falling all over ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-HSlot-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Well, we knew it was coming. Snow and wind and more snow and more wind. Our temperatures had already done a nose-dive, and the snow made the transition to mid-winter conditions complete.
The wrestling meet lasted until mid afternoon, and it was snowing harder as I drove home. My wife and I had a quick supper together, and then we both bundled up. It was time for a parade.
It was the second annual "Holiday in Lights" parade in town. Last year it was called "Christmas in Lights," but the name had to be changed to "holiday" because the organizers were getting some government money. So that made some people unhappy, and they were crabbing, and a few were raising a big stink, saying they would boycott the parade and might even picket it. They were just plain making asses out of themselves.
The snow wasn't going to let up, so we bundled up in heavy coats and boots and drove downtown. I had, you see, volunteered to take photos of the parade.
Yes, it was still snowy. Here's a look down the street before the parade started ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-snowstreet-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
And then it began, starting with the local veterans' unit, carrying flags ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-VetsFlags-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
... followed by the high school band ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-HSband-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
By now I think you can see what I was up against. To flash or not to flash. If I didn't use my flash, I had to rely on the illumination from the street lights. You could do that with some units, like this one ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-PizzaExp-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
But most of the units weren't so well defined (indeed, they looked downright murky) without light from the flash unit on my camera. Of course, the light from the flash first had to pass through a million jillion snowflakes (all of them different!) that were between me and my subject.
Eventually, I decided to use the flash and try to get close to the subjects--so there wouldn't be so many jillion snowflakes in between. Here are some of the shots I got ...
This was from one of the churches that decided not to boycott ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-1stBapt-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
This tiny herd clip-clopped down the street ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Xparade-ponies-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
And this guy brought a famous Christmas season celebrity to town ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Reindeer-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
St. Lucia (from an upcoming museum celebration) rode in the back of a truck ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-StLucia-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
There were many floats from local businesses and organizations, mostly decorated in lights. Dozens of floats. If you want to see more photos, ask and I'll add more later. These should give you a good idea what it was like. Plenty of people lined the parade route, though some tried to watch from parked cars. (The sissies.)
And of course, at the end, riding in a fire truck, was the star of the show ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Santa-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
But that wasn't the end of holiday events on this night. Next, we walked down to the local chamber of commerce office, where they held a short tree-lighting ceremony. And then the town shot the works. People were wondering whether they would be able to see the fireworks through the snowflakes. They didn't wonder for long ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Fireworks-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The snow had let up a little bit, but it was still falling and blowing around quite happily. My wife and I walked back about three blocks to our car and drove home. We had been out about an hour and a half, and temperatures were in the teens. I tried taking off my gloves when taking pictures, but my fingers quickly got too cold--as cold as they were during that playoff football game a few years ago. Once I got feeling back in my fingers, they did pretty well.
For people who wear bushy mustaches, it was quite, umm, scenic ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-iceman-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
My wife had her boots on, but her feet got cold anyway. I found that out once we were back home--her toes felt icy. How could we feel warm again? We sat on the couch and put a comforter over us. She had her feet up, on my warm lap, and I put on a movie I had recorded from Turner Classic Movies a few days earlier.
It was called "Age of Consent" and featured James Mason as an artist who left the big city for life along the North Queensland coast of Australia, where he met a young woman--Helen Mirren ([I]that [/I]Helen Mirren; it was one of her first movies)--who was in her mid 20s and was an island girl, collecting oysters and crayfish to sell to people. She becomes the artist's model.
Some of the most beautiful scenes show the girl diving around the Great Barrier Reef in a light purple dress--and sometimes nude. Those scenes were absolutely beautiful ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Xparade-corals-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The two of us were entranced, seeing the girl diving among the corals, imagining how warm the water felt, how the sun was beating down. And for a little while, all the snow and wind blowing just outside our door was thousands of miles away. My wife's toes felt toasty warm again, and we both felt warm and happy. After feeding the kitty-cats, we went upstairs to a warm bed and slept soundly.
Of course, all the snow and wind became very real once again the next morning, as I had to dig out eight inches of snow around the car so my wife could get to church and her altar guild duties. But we got a short escape from reality.
P.S.: Overnight, we're heading for 10 below!
On the Monday after we returned, my wife started working at the call center in town. She is taking orders for a highly seasonal company that sells gift baskets. People call on their 800 number and talk to someone at the call center (right here in town), who takes their order and credit card info and sends the order to the distribution center.
It's just for December, but we have to make some serious changes to our lives while it's going on. I'm driving her to the call center at 11 a.m. or so and picking her up at 5:30 p.m. Sometimes it's a very fast supper before I head off to a basketball game or wrestling meet. Tonight, I get to stay home. It's a busy time (for her, too), so we have to cooperate.
And we do. This is the second year she has done this, and she seems to be really enjoying the work. Maybe next year, she will take part-time work during the rest of the year, if it's available. Last year, the jobs started too early in the morning (she still doesn't like to get up early), and we had all the work at my mom's place anyway.
Just days after the football finals, the winter sports (basketball) season started locally. This is the first year Michigan has had the boys and girls seasons taking place at the same time, so it's a bit hectic. I think I'm going to be damn tired of basketball before it's all over. Besides, I prefer hockey, anyway.
Wrestling season also started last week, and an all-day tourney was held here on Saturday. I like wrestling more than basketball. Here's one of our guys facing a Negaunee opponent ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-grapplers-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Between matches, I took a look outside. When I arrived at the meet (9:30 a.m.), it was just cloudy. By about noon, the clouds seemed to have broken up into billions of tiny little pieces that were falling all over ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-HSlot-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
Well, we knew it was coming. Snow and wind and more snow and more wind. Our temperatures had already done a nose-dive, and the snow made the transition to mid-winter conditions complete.
The wrestling meet lasted until mid afternoon, and it was snowing harder as I drove home. My wife and I had a quick supper together, and then we both bundled up. It was time for a parade.
It was the second annual "Holiday in Lights" parade in town. Last year it was called "Christmas in Lights," but the name had to be changed to "holiday" because the organizers were getting some government money. So that made some people unhappy, and they were crabbing, and a few were raising a big stink, saying they would boycott the parade and might even picket it. They were just plain making asses out of themselves.
The snow wasn't going to let up, so we bundled up in heavy coats and boots and drove downtown. I had, you see, volunteered to take photos of the parade.
Yes, it was still snowy. Here's a look down the street before the parade started ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-snowstreet-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
And then it began, starting with the local veterans' unit, carrying flags ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-VetsFlags-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
... followed by the high school band ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-HSband-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
By now I think you can see what I was up against. To flash or not to flash. If I didn't use my flash, I had to rely on the illumination from the street lights. You could do that with some units, like this one ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-PizzaExp-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
But most of the units weren't so well defined (indeed, they looked downright murky) without light from the flash unit on my camera. Of course, the light from the flash first had to pass through a million jillion snowflakes (all of them different!) that were between me and my subject.
Eventually, I decided to use the flash and try to get close to the subjects--so there wouldn't be so many jillion snowflakes in between. Here are some of the shots I got ...
This was from one of the churches that decided not to boycott ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-1stBapt-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
This tiny herd clip-clopped down the street ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Xparade-ponies-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
And this guy brought a famous Christmas season celebrity to town ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Reindeer-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
St. Lucia (from an upcoming museum celebration) rode in the back of a truck ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-StLucia-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
There were many floats from local businesses and organizations, mostly decorated in lights. Dozens of floats. If you want to see more photos, ask and I'll add more later. These should give you a good idea what it was like. Plenty of people lined the parade route, though some tried to watch from parked cars. (The sissies.)
And of course, at the end, riding in a fire truck, was the star of the show ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Santa-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
But that wasn't the end of holiday events on this night. Next, we walked down to the local chamber of commerce office, where they held a short tree-lighting ceremony. And then the town shot the works. People were wondering whether they would be able to see the fireworks through the snowflakes. They didn't wonder for long ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-Fireworks-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The snow had let up a little bit, but it was still falling and blowing around quite happily. My wife and I walked back about three blocks to our car and drove home. We had been out about an hour and a half, and temperatures were in the teens. I tried taking off my gloves when taking pictures, but my fingers quickly got too cold--as cold as they were during that playoff football game a few years ago. Once I got feeling back in my fingers, they did pretty well.
For people who wear bushy mustaches, it was quite, umm, scenic ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/XParade-iceman-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
My wife had her boots on, but her feet got cold anyway. I found that out once we were back home--her toes felt icy. How could we feel warm again? We sat on the couch and put a comforter over us. She had her feet up, on my warm lap, and I put on a movie I had recorded from Turner Classic Movies a few days earlier.
It was called "Age of Consent" and featured James Mason as an artist who left the big city for life along the North Queensland coast of Australia, where he met a young woman--Helen Mirren ([I]that [/I]Helen Mirren; it was one of her first movies)--who was in her mid 20s and was an island girl, collecting oysters and crayfish to sell to people. She becomes the artist's model.
Some of the most beautiful scenes show the girl diving around the Great Barrier Reef in a light purple dress--and sometimes nude. Those scenes were absolutely beautiful ...
[IMG]http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b289/drdog/Xparade-corals-12-07.jpg[/IMG]
The two of us were entranced, seeing the girl diving among the corals, imagining how warm the water felt, how the sun was beating down. And for a little while, all the snow and wind blowing just outside our door was thousands of miles away. My wife's toes felt toasty warm again, and we both felt warm and happy. After feeding the kitty-cats, we went upstairs to a warm bed and slept soundly.
Of course, all the snow and wind became very real once again the next morning, as I had to dig out eight inches of snow around the car so my wife could get to church and her altar guild duties. But we got a short escape from reality.
P.S.: Overnight, we're heading for 10 below!
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Good vibrations
(This is a "friends only" post. You'll soon see why.)
I thought life at home would get a little calmer and easier after we got back from our downstate trip.
Oh, sure!
On the Monday after we returned, my wife started/resumed her job at the local call center, where she is taking phoned-in orders for a national company with a highly seasonal business: gift baskets. She takes phone calls on an 800 number, gets their credit card info and places the order.
It doesn't matter that we're in the middle of nowhere up here. Thanks to the internet and broadband connections, orders can come from anywhere and can go anywhere. (They aren't shipped from here; bad transportation.) The customers get to talk to someone from here in the States instead of someone on the other side of the world.
She worked for the same company during the 2006 holiday season and made some nice money. To be honest, she could have had a job there all year if she wanted--but she doesn't like starting really early in the morning. (Besides, we knew we would be busy all summer at my mom's place.)
She gets home after 5:30 p.m. each day, so things have fallen behind at home, particularly the dishes. On Monday night, we both did something about it. She loaded the dishwasher, and then she tackled the hand-washing--the pots, pans, spatulas, etc., etc., etc. I played a supportive but secondary role--doing the drying, rounding up stuff that was hiding here and there and putting things away once washed and dried.
As we did this, she had on a Barry Manilow concert from the local public TV station's pledge drive, and she was singing along happily. She's my little songbird; it means she's happy. Doesn't matter that she is a little tone-deaf (and she is). When we drive somewhere, especially in summer, she finds a station she likes and sings along when they play something familiar. So she's happy. And I'm happy, listening to my little songbird sing. Even if it's to Barry Manilow.
Right now, I'm trying to decide what to get her for Christmas. She's not easy to shop for. Her typical line: "You already get me everything I want." Maybe that's so. But she can try a little harder to come up with an idea. Otherwise I have to think, and that can get dangerous.
I got her a couple things already. A blouse. A card game. A book or two we came across. This time, I'm thinking about something else, something that would help me, too. Something she would [I]never [/I]buy for herself if she lives to be 100. Something that would make her happy, I think, if she gets the nerve to try it.
Hmm. How can I say this discreetly? Why is the word "vibrator" so difficult to type? But sometimes I'm gone. Other times I'm busy or preoccupied by different things. I've got worries, too. When that happens, she can't/won't do the natural thing to relieve her tensions. It's just another negative legacy of her good Christian upbringing. Her parents were/are nice people, but they sure didn't do her many favors in terms of having a positive attitude about her sexuality. I could go on.
She does like sex with me. But if I'm not around, she won't take matters in hand, so to speak, so she doesn't get a good night's sleep. If something would ever happen to me ... she may not have another orgasm the rest of her life! Thank God I don't have her hang-ups!
So when we go to bed and she wants to play, one of my roles is to pet her and pet her, stimulating her "down there" until I finally find the magic button (which can be quite elusive) and she feels ready. I don't understand. In my life, I have had only one other real sexual relationship; you know who that is. And she is just the opposite. At times, all I had to do was stroke her side, and she'd be squirming. But these two women are poles apart in their attitudes about their sexuality. My friend is very happy with it, feeling it is a gift to share and celebrate. As I do. My wife is seems scared of it.
(I just realized today--my visit to her in Ontario was two years ago this week. I ought to send her a Christmas gift, too. But the gift she probably could use the most is the universal, absolutely-can't-fail variety.)
Back to my little songbird. What to do? Do I get something that can get her off? Would she use it? Would she even dare to touch it? Even with a finger? Even with Barry Manilow playing?
If any of you have any helpful advice, feel free to pass it along, even if in a private message. I would greatly appreciate some guidance. I just want her to be happy.
Then again, maybe I'll chicken out. Fashion Bug would love my backup plan: investing in a gift card.
I thought life at home would get a little calmer and easier after we got back from our downstate trip.
Oh, sure!
On the Monday after we returned, my wife started/resumed her job at the local call center, where she is taking phoned-in orders for a national company with a highly seasonal business: gift baskets. She takes phone calls on an 800 number, gets their credit card info and places the order.
It doesn't matter that we're in the middle of nowhere up here. Thanks to the internet and broadband connections, orders can come from anywhere and can go anywhere. (They aren't shipped from here; bad transportation.) The customers get to talk to someone from here in the States instead of someone on the other side of the world.
She worked for the same company during the 2006 holiday season and made some nice money. To be honest, she could have had a job there all year if she wanted--but she doesn't like starting really early in the morning. (Besides, we knew we would be busy all summer at my mom's place.)
She gets home after 5:30 p.m. each day, so things have fallen behind at home, particularly the dishes. On Monday night, we both did something about it. She loaded the dishwasher, and then she tackled the hand-washing--the pots, pans, spatulas, etc., etc., etc. I played a supportive but secondary role--doing the drying, rounding up stuff that was hiding here and there and putting things away once washed and dried.
As we did this, she had on a Barry Manilow concert from the local public TV station's pledge drive, and she was singing along happily. She's my little songbird; it means she's happy. Doesn't matter that she is a little tone-deaf (and she is). When we drive somewhere, especially in summer, she finds a station she likes and sings along when they play something familiar. So she's happy. And I'm happy, listening to my little songbird sing. Even if it's to Barry Manilow.
Right now, I'm trying to decide what to get her for Christmas. She's not easy to shop for. Her typical line: "You already get me everything I want." Maybe that's so. But she can try a little harder to come up with an idea. Otherwise I have to think, and that can get dangerous.
I got her a couple things already. A blouse. A card game. A book or two we came across. This time, I'm thinking about something else, something that would help me, too. Something she would [I]never [/I]buy for herself if she lives to be 100. Something that would make her happy, I think, if she gets the nerve to try it.
Hmm. How can I say this discreetly? Why is the word "vibrator" so difficult to type? But sometimes I'm gone. Other times I'm busy or preoccupied by different things. I've got worries, too. When that happens, she can't/won't do the natural thing to relieve her tensions. It's just another negative legacy of her good Christian upbringing. Her parents were/are nice people, but they sure didn't do her many favors in terms of having a positive attitude about her sexuality. I could go on.
She does like sex with me. But if I'm not around, she won't take matters in hand, so to speak, so she doesn't get a good night's sleep. If something would ever happen to me ... she may not have another orgasm the rest of her life! Thank God I don't have her hang-ups!
So when we go to bed and she wants to play, one of my roles is to pet her and pet her, stimulating her "down there" until I finally find the magic button (which can be quite elusive) and she feels ready. I don't understand. In my life, I have had only one other real sexual relationship; you know who that is. And she is just the opposite. At times, all I had to do was stroke her side, and she'd be squirming. But these two women are poles apart in their attitudes about their sexuality. My friend is very happy with it, feeling it is a gift to share and celebrate. As I do. My wife is seems scared of it.
(I just realized today--my visit to her in Ontario was two years ago this week. I ought to send her a Christmas gift, too. But the gift she probably could use the most is the universal, absolutely-can't-fail variety.)
Back to my little songbird. What to do? Do I get something that can get her off? Would she use it? Would she even dare to touch it? Even with a finger? Even with Barry Manilow playing?
If any of you have any helpful advice, feel free to pass it along, even if in a private message. I would greatly appreciate some guidance. I just want her to be happy.
Then again, maybe I'll chicken out. Fashion Bug would love my backup plan: investing in a gift card.
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