One day in early March, we noticed that our neighbor was hauling pickup load after pickup load of garbage to the dump piled higher than the cab of the truck.  Up and down the road they went for 2 or 3 days.  I was amazed that they had that much stuff they were getting rid of and thought they must be doing some serious spring cleaning.

Then, nothing.  They just seemed to vanish.  Their house was the last one on the cul-de-sac, and mine was the second.  I usually notice every car that goes down our road, and they weren't going down. 

I heard through some friends that they had gone their separate ways, renting apartments and moving on with their lives.  I felt sad that such a nice family had broken up.

A month went by and I started to notice that we had some extra cats hanging around. One of them I recognized as Mr. Burns - their cat.  They were all hungry, so I fed them.  They lived in my garage. One of them, a small calico was pregnant.

A while later I heard that another neighbor of ours had gone down to the end of the road and had looked things over.  His report was very disturbing.  I decided to go look for myself.

As I drove down their driveway I was dumbfounded by the condition of their yard.  I hadn't seen it in a very long time as they lived at the end of a long curved driveway lined with trees.

Mountains of trash were piled in the yard. I saw dead chickens laying in the dirt next to the dog house.  Broken glass lay everywhere. There was furniture, boxes, clothes and dolls scattered around on the dead lawn.  In the back yard there was a pile of stuffed garbage bags filling and overflowing in and by a shed. The whol place looked like a landfill.

Inside the house was worse.

The first thing I noticed was the smell.  It clung.  I wanted to take a quick look and be gone, but was unable to pull myself away from the horrific condition of the house.  More garbage bags piled high in every room, clothes were strewn throughout.  More clothes were piled in corners.  I walked from room to room unable to believe what I was looking at.

The kitchen had dishes on the counter, and the open dishwasher revealed  more, as if someone were in the middle of doing the dishes when they were called suddenly away.  In the middle of the floor were about three big twenty-five pound bags of cat food, open and empty. There was a hole cut in one of the windows that the cats were going in and out of. There were big square holes cut in a couple of bedroom doors, also for the cats access, I assumed.  In one bathroom there was a large square hole cut into the floor.  You could see down into a large crawl space where numerous more garbage bags were thrown.

I couldn't stop staring at it all.  How could anyone live like this?  As I visited with a few friends I was shocked to find out more.

     "You know, they kept snakes, goats and ducks in the house, don't you."

NO, I DIDN'T KNOW!!!

How could I be so un-observant and distanced that I didn't know what was happening down the road? 

A couple of month went by when 2 of the teenage sons came to see me.  They had been back to the house looking for their cats. When they saw Mr. Burns in my yard they pulled in.  I was pleased to see that they were almost acting normal again.  They looked me in the eye and seemed to want to talk.  We visited for quite a while.  They were happy to see that their beloved cats were doing well.  I knew that damage to their psyches was already done, though, when I heard one of them state, "I would much rather see a dead kid lying on the road than a dead cat."  I was horrified at what I'd just heard.

Now, I find myself scrutinizing people more.  When someone starts acting a little strange or different I feel compelled to find out what's going on with them, and what I can do to help.  I feel like I might have made a difference in my friend's situation,

....if I had only known.

A lovely family moved onto our cul-de-sac about 10 years ago.  The dad was a bank manager and his wife was a stay-at-home mom.  They had 6 kids, 5 boys and a baby girl. 

They fit right in.  They were friendly, active, and normal.  Well, their oldest son wasn't totally normal.  His posture was very slumped and he looked at the ground most of the time.  He never looked up, never talked to anyone, and was a little weird. The only time I ever saw him smile was when we asked him to come fix our computer.  When he came into our house he had to walk past our aging Springer Spaniel, who chose that particular moment to "pass gas".  The smile was very fleeting.

The mom of the house was a very giving person.  She served anyone who was in need.  She hated to ask for help in return, and felt an overwhelming need to pay back for any help she was given.  One time she needed a ride into town to pick up her car.  I was going in anyway, so was not put out in the slightest.  Within hours of returning home she had baked a beautiful cherry pie and had delivered it to me to thank me.

I really liked her. 

So when things started seeming a little odd a couple of years ago I tried to ignore the signs.

For an entire summer their large lawn was not watered.  The grass turned brown and died. 

She was in the hospital once, and when I tried to visit I was told that she did not want any visitors. One time I took cookies to her front door to thank her for something, I forget what.  Her son opened the door a crack, reached his hand through and took the cookies.

Odd things.

Unsettling things.

Their son had been gone for two years to Korea on a church mission.  When he came home I heard he moved to an apartment within 2 days.

Then he got married. I went to the reception. We walked into a decorated hall.  There were a few tables set up for guests. The mom was in the kitchen dishing out refreshments, the bride and groom were wandering around talking to people. One of the other sons who was serving the refreshments, was obviously very strung out on drugs.  I tried to talk to the mom for a minute to offer my congratulations.  She was hyper and scattered and was soon gone.  I left feeling odd.  Something was going on.

One day my husband came home and told me that our neighbors were getting a divorce.  I was in shock!

I saw her later that day and asked if it was true.  She assured me it was and that I didn't need to worry about it.  It was a long time coming.

That's when I started to find out how weird everything actually was at their house.

Continued tomorrow........

Every once in a while life goes crazy on you.

You can be rolling along, feeling on top of things,

     in control

     meeting your deadlines

     enjoying your life

And all of a sudden your life careens out of control.

That's the way I've felt this week.

Four bridesmaids dresses to make.

     check

A mother of the bride dress to make.

     check

Abby's high school graduation on Thursday and I still have to plant my last 2 flats of flowers.

     check

Um, and also I had to be at work early on Friday,

     and I had to work 2 hours later,

     and I had to sneak out of work for 2 hours to drive to Idaho Falls to buy tile (because the tile store is closed Saturday Sunday, and Monday) so David can lay it before the carpet is laid next Wednesday which can't happen until I empty the basement of furniture, and oh yeah, I also have to paint all the walls in the basement before then and somewhere in there I have to make a silk bridal bouquet for Lisa for pictures and make the scrapbook guest sign-in book

AND my mother-in-law is here from Seattle for a visit! 

Then David and Emily announced that they are moving to Pocatello, have already signed the lease and can we please help them move this weekend.

My eye started twitching 2 days ago.

I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she
handles four things: a rainy day, the elderly, lost luggage, and tangled
Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

Marriage definitely takes some patience.

Sometimes I think my husband lays awake at night thinking of ways to annoy me.

Actually, I know he's very, very busy.  He works three very demanding jobs. I think he has a bit of attention deficit  disorder.  I can tell he gets pretty antsy if he's home very long. He's just not real great at picking up after himself, or helping out much with the home chores.

So, one day, as I was changing the toilet paper roll, I was in kind of a grumbly mood.  Why was I always the one that had to do this?

I decided to find out how long it took him to notice and take care of that little job himself.

Guess how long it took.

The first roll emptied and I put a new roll on the counter next to the empty cardboard tube in the dispenser. 

That one emptied and I placed another new roll next to the 2 cardboard tubes.

How many tubes do you think accumulated there on my bathroom counter?

5?

8?

When there was no longer any room left on the counter, because of the 12 empty tubes I finally changed the paper myself and threw away all the tubes. 

It was either that or give myself a stroke.

"Mom, will you help me for a few minutes."

I give a sigh of resignation, lie down on my bed and assume the "patient" position. 

A timid knock comes at the bedroom door.  I say, "come in." 

The door slowly opens and my "nurse" peeks around it.  "Hello, my name is Joni. I'm a nursing student from B____ and I will be assisting Nurse Judy today."

I just lay there watching her in action.  She pantomimes washing her hands and checking the safety railings on the bed, and then begins.

I am given a head-to-toe assessment.  My pulse, respiration, and blood pressure are all taken.  Getting your blood pressure taken by a student is fun.  The band is wrapped tightly around the upper arm and the inflation begins.

Pump, pump, pump, pump.  My entire arms starts to lose all feeling.  Pump, pump, pump.

I wouldn't be very surprised to see my arm fall off, squeezed off by the tightening tourniquet.  At last the the pumping ends and the valve is loosened slightly.  Air slowly seeps out and I start to gain a little bit of feeling in my fingertips. Joni's face is screwed up in concentration as she strains to hear the pulsing sounds. Just when I think I may regain use of my arm she starts pumping again.  She missed the sounds and must do it again.  Ouch.

 Muscle strength in my hands and feet are checked. I'm asked very personal questions.

"How did you sleep last night? Did you have to get up to go to the bathroom?  When was your last bowel movement?  Was that normal for you?  Was there any change in amount or odor?"

It takes all the self control I have to not give in to my sarcastic side.  Sometimes I lose control and answer "No it wasn't normal, the last one smelled like lilacs!"  Joni, being very professional, dutifully notes this on her clipboard.

I'm palpated and pushed on, rolled over and sat up.  While using her stethescope to listen to my heart and lung sounds I notice a bit of hesitancy.  She is reluctant to put the stethescope exactly where it should be.  I tell her, go ahead....molest me.  She doesn't.  I guess there are some things you just don't want to know about your mother.

I can't wait for her to start learning about IV's.

My Dad is doing well.  The Central Line surgery went off without a hitch.  That's extremely good news, because on Tuesday he had a VERY bad day.  Mom's wasn't any better.  It's kind of hard to have this emotional roller coaster ride.  As long as the lows don't come a lot more often than the highs I think we'll be all right.

Yesterday he had a platelet transfusion, central-line surgery, and then chemo. We went to see him at home about 6:00.  He was in a great mood and feeling fine.  What a relief.  Tuesday was not good.

So, today I'm feeling like I would like to share a little art with you.  

   This is an oil on canvas. It's a work in progress.  The upper left corner is pretty much complete.  The lower right is just sketched in.  It kind of shows the process a little bit.

I LOVE SUNFLOWERS!!!  You should see my kitchen, so this is so fun for me to work on.  I thought about doing a whole sunflower series.  Maybe I will someday.

Happy weekend everyone.  I hope your's is SUNNY and fun!

~I walked out to the parking lot one day, and used the button on my key chain to unlock my car.  Once comfortably seated in the driver's seat I began to look around. 

There were a couple of candy wrappers on the floor, not unusual, but the kind of candy was. Nobody in my family eats that, I thought.  I glanced around noticing subtle differences in the dashboard.  What the heck?

I suddenly realized I was sitting in someone else's car.

Like an olympian, I catapulted myself out of the car and put as much distance between me and it as fast as I could. I spotted my real car and got in as fast as I could.  Only then did I look around to see if anyone saw my mistake.  I don't think anyone did. I reflected how odd it was that my key opened a stranger's car.

~My son took his bike to his sister-in-law who was going to ride to his apartment right after her class. She went to class, came out and hopped on the bike.  She got to the apartment to babysit my grandson.  When David (my son) left the apartment, he saw a very nice mountain bike, not his, parked next to the door.  The sister-in-law mistakenly upgraded bikes for David.  He hurriedly took the bike back to the building on campus where the switch was made and left it, taking his own home again.  He wondered if he got it back in time, before the owner knew it went on a joy ride without him.

~There is another lady in our town who shares my name.  When I moved to Oregon with my husband for a year of grad school I would often get her mail forwarded to me.  After returning to my hometown here in Idaho I was about to deliver my second child.  Lisa was born 3 weeks after we moved.  The doctor, who took care of me since I was a baby, delivered her. A few weeks later I received a bill from him.  It was itemized, so I went through it line by line.  Something caught my attention.  I got in my car and drove over to his office.  I spoke to the business manager and held up my baby girl.  "This is my baby, and this is my bill", pointing to the line that said "circumcision".  I didn't have to pay.  The other lady, my name sharer, coincidentally had a baby boy, delivered by the same doctor, within a day or two of my delivery.

~For some reason we have common tastes in doctors.  I went to a chiropractor a couple of times and my bill went to her.

~My little neighbor girl, Alexis, was sitting on my front porch playing with her dog.  Some ladies, who had an appointment with her mother drove up.  They were new to the area and weren't quite sure which house was whose.  When they saw Alexis they drove into my driveway and walked up to the front door.  Alexis, being the polite girl that she was, opened the door for these nice ladies and let them come in.  They were all comfortably seated in my living room before Lexie's mom found them.  I was at work and wouldn't have known anything about it, except Andy was home from school sick that day.  He was very confused, but kept out of sight and just watched what was going on.  When he told me about it later, I was very confused.  A couple of days went by when I saw my neighbor in the store.  She told me what had happened, and I admitted that I knew they had all been in my house.  We had a good laugh.

Just some musings from my morning.  How easy it is to make mistakes. Nothing to get upset about, just fuel for storytelling.

And a couple of lessons to learn....like always double check your itemized bills.

I read this quote a few days ago.

"A house is who you are, not who you ought to be."   -- Jill Robison

Sarah Ban Breathnach's commentary on this quote further distresses me.  She says, "Like it or not, the personalities of our homes are accurate barometers that reflect, through our surroundings, where we have been, what's going on in our lives, and who we are --- today, this moment --- though not necessarily where we're headed."

As I look around at the disarray, the misplaced furniture, burning lawn, and scattered books I'm beginning to think she's right.  I am feeling a little out of control these days. 

It got me to wondering, what is my house saying to anyone venturing by.

Pulling onto my property you would see about 2 acres of grass. Two walking sprinklers pull yards and yards of hose in patterns that snake across the green expanse in a desperate attempt to keep it watered. With our water being out there are many burning patches. 

"Yes, I am a big, huge, humongous lawn.  My owner wishes he had a park.  His wife isn't too happy about pulling hoses all the time, but sprinkling systems are quite expensive, you know. She told him if he planted one more blade of grass she would cause him bodily harm. And besides, you see all those golf balls out there?  If I wasn't this big that young man who lives here would have to go to the driving range at the golf course a LOT more than he does now."

You would walk up an old make-shift brick pathway and maybe notice signs where the old sidewalk was broken up and hauled away.

          Like some parts of my life that I wasn't happy with. 

          Broken habits, disrupted negativity.

Inside my house you will find some rooms extremely neat and clean and others torn up and empty. The living room looks comfortably lived in, maybe a bit crowded with a few extra pieces of furniture squeezed in.  There is not a sense of unity throughout.  Every room gives off a different aura. 

Kind of like my life. 

Some parts of me are centered and calm. 

        comfortable and lived in.

Some are organized, spotlessly anal.   Not too many parts are like that - just a couple, like my house.

Two rooms in my house are completely empty.

     No furniture

     Nothing on the walls

     Cement floors

                          Bare, cold and empty.   Like some parts of my life, I guess.      

"A house is who you are...."

I think some redecorating is in order.

On Wednesday my Dad was in the hospital all day receiving blood and platelets to prepare him for his surgery on Thursday.  He was to receive a central line in the right side of his chest. 

They draw his blood so often because of his myelodysplasia that his veins are starting to scar and harden.  Last week he needed platelets.  The nurse tried and tried to find a vein and gave up.  Another nurse came in and tried.  2 hours and 4 nurses later they were finally able to place the IV.  That's when the decision was made to try placing another type of port.

His first port was placed in his left chest wall and had to be removed a few days later because it was so infected.  That was a month ago.  His body has still not been able to heal up the wound in his chest.  He was very determined that he would not go through that nightmare again and refused even considering having another port placed.

The decision was made to place a Hickman line in.  This is much smaller than a port.  If it becomes infected and has to be removed it will leave a small hole, not a gaping one.

So on Wednesday he received his blood and platelets and then went home.  Within an hour he started to shake uncontrollably.  Mom took his temperature, which was 100.  She could hardly believe it, as she just took his temperature a few minutes before and it was 97.  She took it again and it was 101.  She made a call to the nurse who took care of him during his transfusions and she said to bring him to the emergency room.  Mom and Dad only live about 3 blocks from the hospital and were up there in no time.  His temp was 102. 

Things changed so fast.  Everything was going along smoothly and then 15 minutes later we are in emergency mode.  Once the antibiotic IV was started and tylenol given, his temp started to return to normal.  He was admitted to the hospital that night.  His temperature was back in the normal range by morning, but the nurse told my Dad he wouldn't be allowed to leave until his blood counts are up.  My Dad's blood counts haven't been up in months!  He was quite distressed until the doctor stopped by and assured him that he would be able to go home, which he did today. 

The central line surgery is on hold.

I'm riding a roller-coaster of emotions.  So many divergent feelings.

Lisa's wedding - Dad's cancer

Andy golfing in State Tournament - Guilt!!!  I can't go and support him.  I have too many demands on my time with the wedding and my Dad.  I don't think I would be able to drive that far by myself when I'm this worn out.  It's about a 10 hour drive.

Abby's graduation - Dad's infection/hospitalization

The joy of baby Nathan - the indignities of age

Joy and Sorrow

Thankfulness and Anger

Stress, and hopefully soon - Peace.

Myelodysplasia defined:

Myelo- the feeling you get when you realize that even though the cancer probably won't get your Dad, this bone marrow disease probably will.

Dysplasia- the feeling you get when you realize your daddy probably can't fix this one.

Yesterday my Dad went to have his blood tested preparatory to his Thursday central line surgery.  His platelets barely registered and his white blood cells were scarcely better.  This sobering fact really hit home when the nurse told my mom that if any of us had counts that low we would be dead. Somehow Dad's body has adjusted to it.

Another of his nurses, who has been my friend since we were 5, told me that some patients just seem to have everything go wrong.  My dad seems to be one of those.  He's still trying to heal up from the infected port.  I guess I'm just not feeling the art today. 

I

ABOUT GROWING OLDER...
First ~ Eventually you will reach a point when you stop lying about your age and start bragging about it.
Second ~ The older we get, the fewer things seem worth waiting in line for.
Third ~ Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me, I want people to know "why" I look this way. I've traveled a long way and some of the roads weren't paved.
Fourth ~ When you are dissatisfied and would like to go back to youth, think of Algebra.
Fifth ~ You know you are getting old when everything either dries up or leaks.
Sixth ~ I don't know how I got over the hill without getting to the top.
Seventh ~ One of the many things no one tells you about aging is that it is such a nice change from being young.
Eighth ~ One must wait until evening to see how splendid the day has been.
Ninth ~ Being young is beautiful, but being old is comfortable.
Tenth ~ Long ago when men cursed and beat the ground with sticks, it was called witchcraft. Today it's called golf
And finally ~ If you don't learn to laugh at trouble, you won't have anything to laugh at when you are old.

Lisa and I were driving home tonight when I looked to the west, as is my habit. 

When I saw this sunset it was a mad scramble to get my camera out in time. 

I think I made Lisa nervous,  she made me stop the car.  It's probably a good thing

because the battery in my camera was dead.  I happen to have some extras with

me and made the switch as fast as I could.  I was able to get this shot before the

colors faded away. I love the glow on the clouds.  It reminds me of a campfire

glowing at the end of the evening, right before the coals turn black and cool. 

Here's wishing a gentle Tuesday to you all.

On Saturday my baby girl turned 18. Where have the years gone?  It seems like only a few days ago that I was wall-papering my kitchen.  I kept feeling what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions.  I would pause with my work until the pain subsided and then continue on.  I'd had three babies already.  They were all overdue by the time they were born.  The day I wallpapered I wasn't due for 9 more days.  I wasn't even concerned that I could be in labor.  Mike called me right after school to see how I was doing.  This was at 3:30.  I told him I was having a few pains.  He said he would come right home.  At about 4:30 we went up to the hospital "just to see".

All the labor rooms in the hospital were full.  A lot of babies would be born that day.  I met my doctor who could see that I was pretty relaxed.  He spent a few minutes talking with my husband and I about something totally unrelated to births and babies.  By the time he got around to checking me I was about ready to deliver.  In a frantic rush I was wheeled to the C-section room because all the other delivery rooms were full.  I remember feeling cheated because there was no mirror for watching the birth.  Abby was born in record time at 5:37. 

Two weeks later I was at home when someone came to my front door.  It was a young college-age man trying to sell vacuum cleaners.  I usually turn away people at the door, but for some reason I let him come in for a minute.  I let him go through his little speech, just to let him practice and then told him I wasn't interested, but that he did a fine job on his sales pitch. He thanked me and then was about to leave when he noticed Abby lying on a blanket on the floor. 

"How old is your baby?"    Two weeks

"When was she born?"  May 5th

He then paused before asking, "What time was she born?"        About 5:30 pm

He got a real funny look on his face before he said, "Were you that lady that came in, spent about 15 minutes in the labor room and then delivered your baby."  I had to admit that I was.  He then informed me that his wife had been in hard labor for about 18 hours. When I came breezing in and out producing what his wife was working so hard at without results she just cried.  What could I say?  (He told me his wife finally had their baby about 10:00 that night and that all was well.)

Abby has always been my most sensitive child.  She was the one who craved physical contact.  She would sit on my lap, or on the arm of the safa beside me well into her teens. She's usually quiet, funny, loves to read and is extremely smart.  Her lowest grade ever was an A-, and she only got it once.

She plays the violin, sings (had a solo with her choir at Carnegie Hall in March), and played basketball and volleyball.  When she was on the 8th grade volleyball team she had to have a physical from the doctor.  During the course of the physical it was discovered that she had Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome which caused her heart to race.  She recorded one racing episode which showed her heart pounding at 285 beats per minute.  We took her down to The University of Utah Medical Center where they did a catheter ablation.  The very next day she was back on the bench at a volleyball match.  (The doctor said she could play!, but her parents were a little more cautious.)  I love modern medicine.  What a blessing.  She hasn't had a racing heart episode in almost 5 years now.  She was very brave through the whole ordeal, never once expressing fear, or nervousness that she was about to have heart surgery. When the doctor told her about all the things that could go wrong during the procedure I wanted to grab her and run, but Abby just looked at him calmly and said, "let's do it."

I don't know what I'm going to do when Abby moves away to college.  She does my dishes, my laundry, feeds the dogs and cats, and fills our house with music from her violin and from playing the piano, which she mostly learned on her own.

Her bedroom is never a mess.  She hates shopping and has barely enough clothes to fill her extremely small closet.

She is graduating from high school in a couple of weeks, and has been offered scholarships at two universities.  I'm glad she chose to stay here and go to the local one.  She'll be gone soon enough. 

Self-Assessment: Smell

#1. I have a favorite scent.

#2. Smells affect my emotions strongly, for better or worse.

#3. I can recognize friends by their scent.

#4. I know how to use aromas to influence my mood.

#5. I can reliably judge the quality of food or wine by its aroma.

#6. When I see fresh flowers, I usually tak a few moments to breathe in their aroma.

I did not do well on this.  The only ones I could answer yes on were #'s 1 and 6.  Definitely room for improvement there.

Self-Assessment: Taste

#1. I can taste the "freshness" of fresh foods.

#2. I enjoy many different types of cuisine.

#3. I seek out unusual taste experiences.

#4. I can discern the flavor contributions of different herbs and spices in a complex dish.

#5. I am a good cook.

#6. I appreciate the pairing of food and wine.

#7. I eat consciously, aware of the taste of my food.

#8. I avoid junk food.

#9. I avoid eating on the run.

#10. I enjoy participating in taste tests and wine tastings.

If you can flunk one of these assessments, then I did on the taste one for sure.  I don't know if I can honestly answer yes to any of these.

Self-Assessment: Touch

#1. I am aware of the "feel" of the surfaces that surround me daily, e.g., the chairs, sofas, and car seats I sit on.

#2. I am sensitive to the quality of fabric that I wear.

#3. I like to touch and be touched.

#4. Friends say I give great hugs.

#5. I know how to listen with my hands.

#6. When I touch someone, I can tell if he or she is tense or relaxed.

I did much better on this one.  But there is still definitely room for improvement.  Taking these little quizzes really helps you become more aware of how you interact with everything around you.  Just reading the questions helps you become better at using your senses.  I hope you enjoyed my sharing this book, How to Think Like Leonardo da Vinci by Michael J. Gelb.  I recommend it to anyone interested in living a more "in tune" life.

I have been pondering  things for which I am grateful. 

~ That people donate blood.  Why do they do it?  Most of the time there is no pay or recompense of any kind.  There are just some very good-hearted people out there, and for that I am grateful.  If it weren't for them my Dad would not be alive.  He's had somewhere around 25 units of blood in the last few months.  Tomorrow he goes in for 2 more.

~ That my car was running so well that I could take my parents to a family wedding in Utah. I had a lot of car trouble for a couple of months.  I would go out to the parking lot and the battery would be dead.  We could usually jump-start it, but then the next time it would be dead again.  We had the battery checked and it showed a full charge.  Finally after insisting that they find the cause of the problem they put in a new starter for $300.00.  The next day - car wouldn't start.  We took it back to the shop where they finally decided that the wiring in the battery was faulty, put a new battery in and haven't had any trouble since.

~ That the Utah wedding was such a good trip. On the way home my Dad insisted on taking us out to dinner.  We drove until we came to a truck stop that he had eaten at before.  They were inpressed with the previous meal, so we decided to give it a go.  The restaraunt was very busy.  We were show to a table and the waiting began.  Finally we got our menus and decided on our meals.  Dad ordered a turkey dinner and soup, Mom ordered stir fry, and I ordered a french dip sandwich on a sourdough roll with potato wedges.  About 45 minutes later they brought us our food.  We were pretty hungry by then and dug right in.  My Dad took one bite of his turkey and gravy and put down his fork.  He's not a picky eater, but knew if he ate that he would get sick.  They forgot his soup so he tried a couple of the cold limp potato wedges on the edge of his plate.  They were not good.  Okay they were pretty nasty.  Finally they brought his soup, which tasted pretty good.  My french dip was made on white sliced bread and I had tater tots on my plate.  I asked the waitress for the potato wedges that I ordered and she said they were out.  I would get some in a few minutes when a new batch was done.  I proceeded to eat my french dip, which tasted pretty good! ('Course I was hungry).  I took another bite and tasted something odd. Not bad, just odd.  I flipped my sandwich over and saw chocolate syrup on the bread.  Hmmmmm, that's different.  They brought out my wedges which were so hot the grease that was dripping off of them was still boiling!  (Okay it wasn't boiling, but they were HOT and the grease was definitely dripping off.)  Mom just tried to enjoy her meal, which she said tasted great, but I think she felt so bad for Dad and I that it put a damper on her enjoyment.  It wasn't necessarily a bad experience, though.  We all have something new to laugh about.

~ That I could get Monovision contacts.  No more on and off glasses for me.

~ That we rented the decorations for Lisa's wedding reception, and at a very reasonable price.

~ That Mike found cheap airfare so that he could go spend spring break with his mother in Seattle.

~ That David graduated with a B.A.  YEA!!!!

~ That we found a great little car for Abby. 

~ That we have new carpet in the upstairs bedroom.

~ That the sheetrocking and mudding are almost done in the basement.

~ That Joni moved back home for the summer.  It's fun to have her around.

~ That my tulips all bloomed and looked awesome.

~ That I got my painting room back.  YEA!!!!

~ That everyone in my family and most of my extended family are healthy.   If anyone is sick then the risk to my DAD sky-rockets.  He has no immunity.

~ That my boss and job are so flexible allowing me to take the time off that I need.

~ The the weather was so great.  I could walk the golf course just about every day.

~ That my mom took the time when I was young to teach me how to sew.  Now that I have quit procrastinating and have started making the bridesmaids dresses I have been very grateful that she took the time to teach me how to do it right.  The dresses are turning out beautiful, and we are saving a lot of money by doing it ourselves.  I am feeling a bit of guilt for not really teaching any of my daughters the same skill. 

That was my April.  A very full, good month.

When I get home from work I usually go for a walk.  I love going to the golf course.  Every day it's almost like an Easter egg hunt.  How many golf balls will I find today?  So this evening I start feeling a little antsy and decide to drive to the course to take my walk. 

Today was the first day of Men's League.  Mike, Andy, David, and a friend put together a team and went to play.  I knew the  course would be crowded tonight, not my favorite.  I like walking without having to speed up, or slow down, or wait while golfers tee off, or chip on.  I made the decision to try it anyway and drove the short distance.  I was almost ready to pull into the lot, just passing the ninth hole, when I heard and felt a loud thump on the hood of my Explorer.

Shoot.  A golf ball just dented my hood!  I pull into the lot and happened to see Mike's group just finishing the 18th hole.  I let them know what happened, and before I knew it they had talked to the group on the 9th, getting the guys name and number who hit me. 

Shoot!  It's just a little dent.  I feel stupid, like somehow it's my fault for driving down the road at the same time he hit his long drive. 

I still want to walk, but now I don't want to walk the golf course.  I would be walking right passed these guys!  Instead I drive over to the cemetery.

I love walking at the cemetery almost as much as I love walking the course.  I read the names as I pass. Many of these names are familiar to me.  I remember my relationship with them; a former teacher, the doctor that delivered my first two babies, another doctor I took Joni to as a baby, neighbors, parents of my friends.  I read some names with surprise.  I didn't know they had died.  I reminisce as I walk.  It's a comfortable feeling. As I am rounding for the last time I hear a familiar soft hooting.  I look straight up into a tree and see a beautiful barn owl.  He is just sitting on one of the lower branches getting ready for a night on the hunt.  I look up and he looks down.  We lock eyes, one night owl to another, for just a few moment.

And I almost want to thank that young man for denting my car.

Almost. 

Last night, while I was  still procrastinated a job that has been looming over my head for a month, I was pondering which piece of artwork I would share today. 

I settled on a couple of watercolor portraits.  These were done in a beginning watercolor class here at my university.  I had never done watercolor before, and had a hard time getting used to the fact that once something is down - ITS DOWN.  You can't really go back and change a lot.  So, one day in class when a young student showed up to be a head model I was quite nervous.  I finally just plunged ahead and painted.  It was liberating, in a way to know that the only direction I could take was forward.  No reverse in watercolor.

     The model was reading a textbook while we painted, thus the downward cast face.  I was glad.  I didn't want to have to paint eyes that looked alive, not like a doll's

The next day we could choose between another youthful model or plaster busts of older men.  I chose the bust.  I did this in a monochromatic scheme, just concentrating on the highlights, shapes, and shadows.  I love the lines in the face.  Every time I look in the mirror I see more and more of the same thing.  I'm not upset about them, I look at them as proof that I've been around the block.  I know a few things, have done a few things, and that there's still plenty of spunk left in this old bird.  I think this guy shows the same thing.

I think they should rename those lines and creases.  Instead of wrinkles and crow's feet they should be called wisdom lines or contentment creases.

I know these paintings aren't all that great.  I only received a C+ on the old man. I don't really mind.  The things I learned about myself taking these classes aren't measured in grades. 

How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci by Michael J. Gelb has some self assessment quizzes for your senses.  I pretty much aced the one I shared last week on Sight.  Today's quiz on hearing was almost as good for me. 

1. Friends describe me as a good listener.

2. I am sensitive to noise.

3. I can tell when someone is singing off-key.

4. I can sing on key.

5. I listen to jazz or classical misic regularly.

6. I can distinguish the melody from the bass line in a piece of music.

7. I know what all the controls on my stereo system are for and can hear the difference when I adjust them.

8. I enjoy silence.

9. I am attuned to subtle changes in a speaker's voice tone, volume, and inflection.

I can answer a definite "YES" to numbers 1-6.  Number 7 is "NO" because I usually have a teenager in the car with me, thus I have no control over the radio.  At home I usually hear 2 or 3 tv's or radios going from various locations throughout the house, so the last thing I want to do is play around with the stereo.  Besides, ........NUMBER 8 is a definite YES!  I think I'm pretty good at number 9 also.  My husband?  Not so good.  Maybe it's because of his hearing loss, but we can be talking to the same person and afterwards he will say something about how nice they were, and I'll think, "what?  Were we talking to the same person?"  I thought their words were dripping with rudeness.

How did you do?  Do you need to work on a few of your hearing sensibilities?

Next up?  Smell