Take Care

A little over a week ago, I asked Uncle Bob to put up the pea trellis in my Pleasant Street garden.  Funny, but I didn’t hear one pea(p) out of him about trellis timing.  In the past, I planted my peas first and he put up the trellis after the sprouts broke ground.  This didn’t seem logical to me but it was a bad habit we’d gotten into the first year I planted peas.  I dreaded asking him to put up the trellis.  He’d ask if I’d planted the peas yet.  Then we’d discuss which came first, the trellis or the peas.

I’m exhausted having the conversation in my mind.

Fortunately, Uncle Bob was distracted by the shingling of his roof and the pea trellis was in place the day after I asked.  Handy and I went over in the evening to plant the peas.  It was a clear and lovely night and unbeknownst to me, I was being eaten alive by ceratopogonidae.  Midgies or no-see-ums.

In little more than twenty-four hours, I was wide awake in the middle of the night, scratching the bites. It was horrible and discouraging because I thought I’d turned the corner with my “spring cold.”  On Saturday morning, feeling not terrific, I made a visit to Dr. Helen’s Hospital.

“Hi Mom, I’m not feeling great today.  Look at all these bug bites on my legs.”

I pulled up my pant leg.  Helen gasped.

“You’ve got to be careful.  Bug bites can be dangerous.”

They can be?  Maybe she was talking about Triple E or malaria.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“ZIKA!” she exclaimed.

For a woman who never wildly surfs the Internet, Dr. Helen does a good job of keeping up on medical maladies and emerging health issues.  Little escapes her scanning eye.  Plus, she’s always got what an ailing patient might need.  Got a headache?  Dr. Helen has a bountiful pharmacopeia of potions, powders, and pills, as well as many naturopathic solutions.  Heating pads, ace bandages, instant ice packs?  The good doctor has these too.  And if you’re not feeling robust and energetic, she might remind you that you need a nap, sleep being the foundational ingredient of health and wellness.

“Zika?” I asked.

“It’s all over the news,” she said.

I then told her how the bites, when combined with the nose-blowing and coughing, had resulted in a little dizziness.

“Let me take your blood pressure,” she said.

Out came the blood pressure cuff and the pumping began.

My blood pressure, always on the low side, was even lower than usual.

“You’re going to drink a cup of warm water with a teaspoon of salt,” Dr. Helen commanded and she got up and started rummaging around the apothecary for salt.

I drank the cup of warm salted water and we discussed the best kind of cream to relieve my bug bite discomfort.  Then she began discussing how important it was to vigilantly avoid bites in the future and the steps she’d be implementing this summer in light of “Zika.”

Dr. Helen suggested I go home and rest and then she issued her favorite and most dreaded prescription:

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself.”

How many times have I heard this?  For how many years?  And each time I’ve heard it, I’ve resisted the idea of “taking better care” of myself because it seemed selfish to put myself first in a world with so many needs.

But Dr. Helen is right and I’m lucky that I get to see her more often these days to be reminded of her wisdom.  I do need to take better care of myself because frankly, I’m not a kid anymore.

And I’m not on the Moxie Festival Committee anymore, either.  I know, shocker.  I resigned a few months ago and although it was difficult to let it go, I know the show will go on without me.  And that’s ok.

Take Care

Time is marching on and Handy will be here soon to start work on the new, bigger garden fence.  Or something.

Take care!

Posted in Friday Pillow Talk, You've Got Moxie! | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Visions of Moonflowers

I direct-sowed some moonflower seeds last summer but they came to nothing.

Moonflower VisionOne seed packet says “do not transplant well.”

We’ll see.

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Spring Writer’s Slump

I “started out strong” with today’s post.  I was up at 5:00 a.m., writing as soon as my coffee was done.  I didn’t procrastinate or get sidetracked by reading a book.  Somewhere along the line, though, I got bogged down.  I was 514 words into the post and it wasn’t “working.”  I kept at it for a few more hours, but I couldn’t “ship it.”

It had to do with themes of life and death and the interconnected nature of it all.  I’ve blogged about it before.  But the opening theme of the post didn’t work with the body of the thing and I knew my old high school writing teachers would be shaking their heads and reaching for their red pens.

I think I’m in a spring writer’s slump.

Another View

What is the old Ray Kroc quote about “green and growing?”  At least something around here is green.

And speaking of men of Ray Kroc’s generation, you should read my brother’s blog tomorrow.  He’s writing about Colonel Sanders.

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Peering into Hallowell Granite

If I had a “Jackson” for every time I’ve sighed a heavy sigh and whispered “like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives” I might have enough money to quit my job for pay and write full-time.

I sat down to write the last leg of the Aroostook County Carnegie Library tour this morning and realized I couldn’t cover the six libraries we visited that day with the respect they were due.  At least not during the time I’d allotted to writing this morning.  The libraries in Milo, Old Town, Orono, Pittsfield, Oakland, and Waterville were an interesting grouping.  Seeing them all in one day reminded me of a long-ago trip to Las Vegas, spending my last hours in the city running up and down the strip collecting souvenirs from as many casinos as possible.

Here’s a Friday souvenir.

Hard Hearted Window

What secrets lurk behind the hard Hallowell Granite?

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Escape to Mitford

I’ve been escaping to Mitford, thanks to the arrival of a box of books in the mail.

SecretsIt’s my life, not a magazine.

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The Jealous One

Last Tuesday, I called in sick from work.  I was tired and had a headache; I just wanted to lay in bed under the puff.  It was the first day of a cold that lasted all week.  It wasn’t allergies, in spite of the watery eyes.  It was a runny nose, congestion, and cough, cough, cough and it kept me in my bathrobe for three consecutive days.  Fortunately, by Friday I felt well enough to get dressed.  While wrapping up the long week made longer by illness, I realized I hadn’t been on Facebook for several days.

What is there to say to the world about sinus congestion, overflowing wastebaskets of used tissues, and being unable to breathe through your nose?

Absolutely nothing.

At some point on Friday, I got the “a lot has happened on Facebook since you’ve been gone” notification by e-mail.  Then, over the weekend, I received random e-mails about various “friends” updating their status.  A lot really was happening on Facebook.

Having a spring cold consumes a lot of energy and I didn’t have that little bit of extra “umph” needed within me to find out what was happening in Zuckerland.  Thanks to my endless coughing, it turned out being a relatively low social media week.

By Sunday afternoon, I was functioning at seventy percent power and Handy was chauffeuring me around for a Sunday drive.  We stopped at Pineland Farms and walked about the grounds until we found a sunny hill on which to spread out a blanket.  There was an “old timey” feeling to the afternoon and I noticed families, couples, and clusters of friends spending “real” time together, enjoying the beautiful location at a powered-down pace.  I don’t know if they were secretly updating their Facebook profiles or “checking in” at Pineland.  They didn’t seem to be.

There was a gentle breeze across the sun-warmed grass.  Handy snored a little.

In the car on the way home, I checked my phone for e-mails.  Facebook said another “friend” had added a picture.  That’s when it dawned on me that the social media platform was kind of like a jealous lover, always checking in on me when I wasn’t checking in with them.  It’s kind of creepy, actually.  The good news?  I just unsubscribed from those updates.

An Image of Real LifeIt’s Monday morning, I’m still functioning at only 75 percent.  I’m behind and the week hasn’t even begun.  What I wouldn’t give for 24 more hours to recuperate.

I won’t make it to Zuckerland today.  The real world will have to do.

Posted in Experiments and Challenges | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

What They’re Reading

The northernmost Carnegie library in Maine is the Caribou Public Library.  When Handy and I visited it on our Aroostook County dash, I saw this book on a chair in the stacks.

Caribou Reading

If you click on the picture, you can read the details of our trip to Caribou, Fort Kent, and other mystical points north of hipness.  The book?  I know nothing about it or the author, but it seemed ironic a reader in Caribou tugged it off the shelf.

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Tomorrow, Caribou

Caribou

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A Day in The Life

You might think acronyms didn’t exist before the Internet, but that would be false.  Ancient Romans and Greeks used abbreviations in similar time-saving ways as us moderns.  For example, “the Roman Empire” was sometimes abbreviated as SPQR, short for Senatus Populusque Romanus.

If you text, you know acronyms are a common part of the narrative.  ROFL, LOL, etc.  There are so many different acronyms; it’s difficult to keep up, if keeping up is important to you.  Fortunately, the magic of the Internet provides acronym dictionaries so understanding abbreviated speech is only a few keystrokes away.

This weekend, while searching for information on “how to create a weekly menu” I ran across the acronym “DITL.”  I’d never seen it before.  It means “Day In The Life.”  Maybe it’s pronounced “deetle?”  The “day in the life” notion of storytelling has become popular through social media; you can watch minute by minute accounts of celebrity lives by following stars on your preferred social media.  You can also see non-celebrities “tell their story” and provide “day in the life” accounts.

Everyone is “telling their story.”

At noon a week or so ago, March 31 to be exact, Handy called me on my cell phone.  He doesn’t often call me during the day; he usually texts or he just stops by.  He didn’t sound like himself and it was because one of his tenants killed himself.  Handy found him.  It’s hard to explain what that moment was like and I don’t want to dramatize it because it didn’t happen to me.  But all I could think about was whether Handy was “ok” and how I could help him.  Since that day, we’ve both gone through our “day in the life” activities and Handy has had things to take care of in the aftermath.  A long shadow has been cast over the daily things and I find myself counting time from that day.  “It’s been a week since Bill died” or “it’s been ten days now.”  I worry about Handy and I think twice before I say things because I’m trying to be sensitive to what he might be thinking.

It’s made me wonder about statistics.

Maine’s statistics are not great.  Although the suicide rate isn’t the highest in the nation, it’s not the lowest, either.

I wasn’t sure how to write today’s post.  It felt awkward because as my friend Mary commented to me when I wrote my review of Linda Andrews’ book Please Bring Soup, “we in the US of A are afraid to talk about death and the effect of it on the people left behind.”  Talking about suicide isn’t the kind of “day in the life” activities I have been trained to handle and it’s not fun blog content either.

I don’t have any special wisdom to offer.  There’s no special hashtag or app that makes any of this easy and I’m just spinning my wheels now, trying to find some graceful way to end this post.

My philosopher friend often ends his e-mails with a wish for a “gentle day” or “gentle night,” depending on the time he sends his kind notes.  Wishing you that same spirit of gentle kindness today.

Posted in Just Writing | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

Postcards from Presque Isle

It’s Friday and I just updated The Lady Alone Traveler blog over at the Sun Journal’s website.  Click on the gorgeous lighting fixture to be transported to Presque Isle, Maine.

Mark and Emily Turner Memorial Library Gallery 2Amish buggies, beagles, and more…

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