Something Silly This Way Comes

I started at least three posts, but finally faced the facts. I could only manage something silly. A snapshot that makes me smile.

Of course, it has been easier to smile since The Husband was returned safely to me late yesterday. He is making only croaking noises due to bruising of vocal cords; otherwise, he is doing rather well. The surgery was the result of a parathyroid gland. I know. I didn't know we had any either. Turns out we have four, located near the thyroid gland and sometimes one runs amuck. When that happens, that one will begin to overproduce all sorts of things not good for the rest of the body. The gland that began the size of a grain of rice starts growing and needs to come out. He now has one less parathyroid gland (that had become the size of a large grape) and for the moment is quite hoarse. By next week he should as good as new—well, okay, a lot better than he was.

I was guilt-ridden because I couldn't be there to take care of him; but, frankly, he had said that if I was the one to take him there and back he would be burdened with the anxiety over my well-being. I had to admit he made strong points. I know that my anxiety over three friends who are dealing with devastating news tears at me. So his assessment was not what I wanted to hear, but factual.

This is a learning experience I hadn't planned on. Denial can be a wonderful tool, can't it? Besides, some things we just don't imagine ever having to deal with and that is healthy, I think. It truly is a blessing that most young people can't comprehend what lies ahead of them. Egads! If at twenty-five you could fully imagine what your body could be going through in later decades, you might not want to face it. You likely would, at least, be really ticked off. I am being flippant, at the moment, but I do believe that it is just as well that we have those early years of living in blissful ignorance. If there is nothing we can do to avoid what is in store, why spend time dreading it? I am thrust fully into my "education". During this schooling, I fully expect to drag out that old denial technique periodically. I suspect it will come in handy.

Getting My Ducks in a Row

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Several days ago, we went down to Cub Lake to take ourselves and Galen for a walk. The ducks with their new chicks were the bonus for our effort. It was my first time in weeks to carry a DSLR outside the house and I felt I could only manage the 24-105 mm lens for any length of time. The result was that I had to crop these like crazy. Nevertheless, it surely felt good to have a camera in my hand. 

The brief outing whetted my appetite. The deer are moving about in the valley—mamas with their babies also; some hawks have been hunting in the field west of the house. It is time to be out and about with a telephoto lens.

I should be safe driving by the end of next week—the incision at the top of the palm is markedly improved and the thumb is doing rather well—working on strength and flexibility. Between the creatures close to the house and being able to wander around in the valley, I have hopes of some local exploration.

In the meantime, I am simply enjoying the fact that we are finally into a kind of Spring here. After a brief spate of hot weather, we are back into a cooling trend and, supposedly, we will see the upper 70's during this next week.

Closing in on the 21st Century

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Believe it or not, The Husband and I have only recently entered the wireless world—with our computers, that is. Yes, we may be old fogeys, but we have had cell phones for some time now, thank you.  

Not being wireless in our office, had me tethered to my desktop computer. Unfortunately, that arangement is no longer practical. I am doing much better, but I still need to change my position frequently. The old game of settling in at the computer and losing myself for sometimes hours on end in photo-processing, or writing, is not an option. I needed to get my laptop into action.

The transition to wireless was a piece of cake. I confess that we both had been putting it off, because we know that, all too often, the simpler a computer task appears the more frustrating it can become. After sailing through the set-up, I can now take my laptop anywhere in the house and do a small portion of my computer business. Wow! This new-fangled stuff is great.

But, you know how things work in the wonderful world of electronics. One thing always leads to another and here I am thinking about a netbook. My aging laptop weighs a whopping six pounds, and the three-pounds or under specs on netbooks sound awfully tempting. I am amazed at how heavy six pounds feels on my lap. Of course, there is no way I would expect to process photographs on a netbook. Still, I wonder if I might use it for some writing and reading online. Anyone have first-hand experience?

Gee, trying to catch up with the times is tough.

The Internal Fog

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Even with the sun shining brightly, there are days when I struggle to clear the foggy mist from my brain. In this case, the perpetrator of the fog was the surgery in November; but, there are many events that can produce an internal mist that engulfs the brain. I have always experienced a similar miasma after the loss of a loved one.

That period of stumbling about, losing one's way in the half-light, is disorienting, at best. Still, I like to believe that during that lost period, we are processing and sorting material that will shape us and eventually find it's way into expression, if we will only give it the opportunity.

I'm never wise enough to fully grasp the meaning of this experience, much less articulate it. I only know that once the fog has completely lifted, nothing looks quite the same. During the recovery period, I almost always long to "be myself" again.  Inevitably, however, when the edges of my world grow sharper and the colors more vibrant, I find that nothing is exactly as I remembered. Including me.

How to Spoil a Woman

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Yes, The Husband gets a little grief here, now and then. But, don't think for a moment that I don't recognize and appreciate my good fortune. I know full well that he spoils me rotten. I am a very fortunate woman. Let me tell you about one of the ways he pampers me.

For far too many weeks (since late September last year), I spent more time in bed than is normal for me. That time in bed wasn't restful. It was only to minimize the throbbing in back and legs, and there was many a sleepless night. Recently, I am doing much, much better. But, when my back first got really bad, The Husband began reading to me to help us both fall asleep. Although the reading certainly doesn't stop the aching, it is a most healthy distraction from the fears enlivened by the lingering pain. 

We began this habit of reading to one another, before we were married. Back then, we read several books this way—trading chapters reading to one another. These days, The Husband does all the work. I sink down to snuggle beneath the covers and close my eyes, while he does a superb job of bringing the story to life. The day fades away as he reads,  and the pain loses ground to the unfolding story. Soon, I am lost in the make-believe world.

Currently, he is reading The Secret Garden, a book I fondly remember from my childhood. Because I have long forgotten the details of the story, Mary Lennox's adventure is brand new for me. I doubt that I was any more enchanted by the book back then than I am now. It's a  pleasant way to fall asleep—whisked away from my own doubts and fears into a magical world—far from harsh realities.

Now, that is how to spoil a woman.

Don't Get Around Much Anymore

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With his wonderful photoblog, Andreas Manessinger shows up most of us with a photo a day. Is he content with that? Nah! He further puts us slackers in the shade by linking each photo to the song of the day! If his images weren't so lovely and his writing so interesting, I would be tempted to call him a "show-off". There was a time when I thought I might keep up with the bloggers who post daily (you know who are), but I long ago resigned myself to being a part of the more erratic gang. Call us unpredictable.

As for the title, 'Tis true, 'tis true. I don't get around much anymore. True now, yes; but. temporary, I hasten to add. Still the current state of affairs have me combing through archives for images and inspiration for something to write about. In spite of today's glorious sunshine, my brain remains a bit foggy while my muscles are weak. With that in mind, this photo from last February seemed appropriate.

Not to worry, by the way, I won't be adopting Andreas' format—wears me out just thinking about it. But, just for today and with a grateful acknowledgement to Andreas, I went to a piece of music for a title. Oh, and staying true to the inspiration, I am obliged to include a link to one of the many fine renditions of this wonderful old '40's blues number. Enjoy.

Good Intentions and Where They Often Lead

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Of course, I intended to post something special with a Merry Christmas wish to all. We can see where those intentions landed me. While I contemplate the sad way I strayed from the better path, I am reminded of another aphorism: "Pride goeth before a fall." I hasten to add there was no literal tumbling to ground or floor involved. This, alone, is reason to be grateful. Instead, I have been forced to reevaluate my capacity for recovery. I recall that in a particularly cheeky mood while in the hospital, I even said to someone: "I have recovered from seven major surgeries in my life. I think I understand this process fairly well." Hah! Lesson learned: never underestimate the toll the passing years take on our strength and resilience. Yes, I know it's been less than two months since I left the hospital, but....

As if these lessons were not enough to digest, I am reexamining my original determination to avoid writing about my recovery. I imagined myself limiting my posts to cheery notes about interesting things going on around me and leaving my feelings about being incapacitated to the imaginations of any interested enough to contemplate my progress. Alas, I lack the energy, imagination, will...whatever. My days are long, yet the weeks fly by. I long for the activities I had come to treasure: long morning or evening walks with camera in hand; hours lost in processing photos and endless experimentation with shooting techniques or immersion in Photoshop tutorials; frequent blogging and a vigorous web conversation.

Instead, long fights with boredom, depression, pain, and hopelessness are punctuated with glimpses of ambition, determination, and optimism. Change isn't always easy. Aren't we peculiar creatures? We long for adventure, resist sameness and repetition yet, all too often, we balk at new developments in our lives and flail about in futile attempts to reconstruct what was when what is proves uncomfortable.

Our Christmas was extremely modest and quiet. It began with the sunrise pictured above, was propelled along with wind gusts of up to 30 mph throughout the day, and ended with a torrential downpour. We had the beef and vegetables in the crock pot by 8:00 AM. Then, before 9, I had the fresh bread in the oven. While the wind roared, I stayed tucked inside where the fireplace cheered the great room. Mostly, I amused myself by alternately watching sticky sweet and predictable Hallmark movies (odd that they they all have almost exactly the same plot) and marveling as backyard and patio items were tossed about by the wind gusts.

All in all, it wasn't the best Christmas I have ever had, but it was a long way from the worst. I hope yours was merry and memorable for all the right reasons and I wish you you the Happiest ever New Year!

Outside—Peeking Through the Window

Please trust me. This post is not a plea for pity and a pathetic hint for get well wishes. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Those wishes have been appreciated for their warmth and concern, but there are so many messages that I would rather receive. I would much rather participate in conversations about things that are interesting. However, nothing I am doing is remotely interesting. Indeed, since my life is mostly about not doing, this post is nothing more than one of my lame efforts to stay in touch.

With the above disclaimer in mind, I am here to tell you that if you are going to get the flu, don’t even consider taking on that challenge four weeks after major surgery. Whoa! Talk about getting your rear end kicked. It hasn’t been a pretty picture. (More about pictures later.) Had I saved all the used tissues (What a nauseating thought!), I would have a pile some where near the size of one of those ill-fated cruise ships we have been seeing in the news lately.

As far as doing anything interesting is concerned, lifting a cup of coffee has been a chore on many days. Therefore, you get the idea how much imagination it takes for me to picture myself hoisting up a camera. Then, there’s the issue of holding that camera steady. Riiiight! At any rate, I have managed to take a handful of photos over the last few weeks, only to be frustrated by my inability to sit at the computer long enough to process and post an image. There has been little joy in Mudville. (Joy is not to be confused with gratitude. Tons of gratitude here, because setting aside the effects of the flu-from-Hell, I am getting better. My surgery appears to have been successful, and for that I am deeply grateful.

The flu is temporary. Thank goodness. Meanwhile, I remain on the outside, peeking through the window of the World Wide Web, watching everyone else in the blogging world go about their lives. I watch almost daily. I ooh, aah, nod, puzzle, contemplate, admire, marvel, commiserate, and celebrate, as I drink in the experiences conveyed through the work posted by others. I alternate between being inspired by the work then intimidated by same. Soon enough, my turn to participate will come.

Headed in the Right Direction

Finally, I am headed in the right direction and that is news for which I am grateful. Because this recovering from surgery is a slow process, I am learning more lessons in patience. Furthermore, I am learning a great deal about moving slowly, as well as purposefully. Gee, I have a long list of rules to follow. There are rules for everything. Sitting, standing, walking, even brushing my teeth! The limitations are too many to count and all those limitations contribute to days that are indescribably boring.

In spite of the boredom, however, my spirits are quite high. The pain I feel now is different and being able to walk more is quite the treat. For several weeks, I could hardly walk at all and now I walk back and forth to the main living area multiple times each day. It is a big deal to me.

I fill parts of each day daydreaming about all the things I will do when the biggest chunk of the recovery is behind me. Hey, it’s free, and I can do it without breaking any of the rules.

Because sitting is not something I get to do a great deal of, my posts here will be infrequent and brief. I look forward to getting back into the blogging world. I have been away far to long.

Hope to be more active soon.