Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Closing the door
As this month comes to a close, I am combing through all the events since last posting... BiL's physical therapist gave me some helpful direction in working with the scar from his surgery, BiL is driving on his own now, freeing my schedule up considerably, I have begun visiting my hospice client again, I'm exploring several blogs and their various tweakabilities, and I finally have gotten back to my stained glass work! On the 'still pending' list is my massage office site. Some things need their time to work out. Well, there's always my own table in front of our woodstove in a pinch.
After too many days of 'melt n settle', our locale got blessed with 4-6 inches of powder last night. The pitch of conversation where I volunteer at a local coffee bar was measuably excited today. No one was jumping up and down.. the base depth at the local ski place is still not good, but any measuable snowfall gives everyone hope. I got a very nice photo this morning which I will attempt to post with this entry. Something about light coming through grayness just revs me up inside. Rainy days do that. Snowy mornings do that. :) They weather powers are forecasting snow tonight and tomorrow, but when their predictions rise, our actualities fall. For now, though, it is looking more as it should: a soft, white blanket, and pine branches clasping perfect rounds of virgin white in their green needle tips. We even got to see some new winged visitors, pine grosbeaks.... in their first year, by their russet heads.
I've enjoyed (with envy) knowing that my NE family have gotten their good share of white stuff. I am told that my grandson squeals when he sleds. Heck, I squeal for real, saucering down our driveway, never knowing where I will end up. This, of course, brings our neighbor dog (her name, I found out, is Abigail, but I keep wanting to call her Isabelle for some reason). She rambles beside me, smiling in her dog way.
Today, she followed me as I snowshoed up our west slope. I had seen her an hour earlier, 2 miles down the road with my other neighbor, so I knew she had been on the run nearly constantly, and was surprised at her abundant energy! Only on the way down did I see her occasionally collapse into the deep snow and slide rather than leap through. It was nearing late afternoon, and I was happy to have her with me to discourage any human despising cow moose. I'd love to see said moose, but not face to face.
As usual, my exertion into the white left me somehow energized, and I launched into more wood splitting and snow clearing until dark, once I got home. BiL made dinner, I started a fire, ate and cleared dishes, and now the flakes are just starting to fall again.
Yay. (not too loud, now).
After too many days of 'melt n settle', our locale got blessed with 4-6 inches of powder last night. The pitch of conversation where I volunteer at a local coffee bar was measuably excited today. No one was jumping up and down.. the base depth at the local ski place is still not good, but any measuable snowfall gives everyone hope. I got a very nice photo this morning which I will attempt to post with this entry. Something about light coming through grayness just revs me up inside. Rainy days do that. Snowy mornings do that. :) They weather powers are forecasting snow tonight and tomorrow, but when their predictions rise, our actualities fall. For now, though, it is looking more as it should: a soft, white blanket, and pine branches clasping perfect rounds of virgin white in their green needle tips. We even got to see some new winged visitors, pine grosbeaks.... in their first year, by their russet heads.
I've enjoyed (with envy) knowing that my NE family have gotten their good share of white stuff. I am told that my grandson squeals when he sleds. Heck, I squeal for real, saucering down our driveway, never knowing where I will end up. This, of course, brings our neighbor dog (her name, I found out, is Abigail, but I keep wanting to call her Isabelle for some reason). She rambles beside me, smiling in her dog way.
Today, she followed me as I snowshoed up our west slope. I had seen her an hour earlier, 2 miles down the road with my other neighbor, so I knew she had been on the run nearly constantly, and was surprised at her abundant energy! Only on the way down did I see her occasionally collapse into the deep snow and slide rather than leap through. It was nearing late afternoon, and I was happy to have her with me to discourage any human despising cow moose. I'd love to see said moose, but not face to face.
As usual, my exertion into the white left me somehow energized, and I launched into more wood splitting and snow clearing until dark, once I got home. BiL made dinner, I started a fire, ate and cleared dishes, and now the flakes are just starting to fall again.
Yay. (not too loud, now).
Monday, January 15, 2007
Snowshoe
Today we both agreed to stay home. It's MLK day, and while the guys on the radio debated the meaning of the day, we had our own discussion and finding agreement, decided that was that. I determined that I would not spend the entire waking hours getting lost in housechores. BiL has been doing a little sorting of his goods every day, is getting around in the house without crutches some of the time (watch it, BiL, don't overdo!), and is managing more of his own needs. I still get the meals, do the laundry, make the fires, etc, but his healing is coming along so that I feel ok leaving him on his own for several hours at a time if need be. Yesterday and the day before I did just that to complete some needed tasks in town. Today would be different.
After I did just the right amount of organizing my own wayward papers and catching up on cleaning after our waffle breakfast and chili and couscous lunch, I brewed my traditional "hiking" thermos of jasmine tea, strapped on my Atlas snowshoes, and beelined up the slope west of the house. The local dog has run off the day population of moose, elk, and deer, so I didn't have a worry about surprising anything bigger than a breadbox. The snow was a foot deep at minimal, the hiking steep, slow, but delightful powder all the way!
The air might have been 12 degrees or so, the sky, 3pm winter blue. Even tho the snow depth is not enough to complete cover the generous alderberry, raspberry, and serviceberry shrubs, it is enough to be shoe-able without getting hung up. It is so freeing to the heart to find one's way through the thickets of pines, across logs, past pockets of snow crystal growths like window frost gone three dimensional. I gained altitude til I was up on the old logging road, too high to see our house. I took the road downward to my favorite huge log on the west slope. In the summer the log is inviting, but must be avoided as it is home to a myriad of 6 leggeds that would just as soon sample your flesh as they would enemy colonies. In the present season, they sleep and the log is a place to lean against, a snow blanketed sanctuary of silence. I paused there, letting my fingertips feel blood in them again, downing my thermos of tea (sharing a cup with Earth Mom), feeling the shadowed cold kissing the back of my sweating neck.
After checking in with BiL on the walkie talkie, I began the descent back to the house. Midway down I saw the snowshoe tracks of my neighbor, Marion.
Popular place.
After I did just the right amount of organizing my own wayward papers and catching up on cleaning after our waffle breakfast and chili and couscous lunch, I brewed my traditional "hiking" thermos of jasmine tea, strapped on my Atlas snowshoes, and beelined up the slope west of the house. The local dog has run off the day population of moose, elk, and deer, so I didn't have a worry about surprising anything bigger than a breadbox. The snow was a foot deep at minimal, the hiking steep, slow, but delightful powder all the way!
The air might have been 12 degrees or so, the sky, 3pm winter blue. Even tho the snow depth is not enough to complete cover the generous alderberry, raspberry, and serviceberry shrubs, it is enough to be shoe-able without getting hung up. It is so freeing to the heart to find one's way through the thickets of pines, across logs, past pockets of snow crystal growths like window frost gone three dimensional. I gained altitude til I was up on the old logging road, too high to see our house. I took the road downward to my favorite huge log on the west slope. In the summer the log is inviting, but must be avoided as it is home to a myriad of 6 leggeds that would just as soon sample your flesh as they would enemy colonies. In the present season, they sleep and the log is a place to lean against, a snow blanketed sanctuary of silence. I paused there, letting my fingertips feel blood in them again, downing my thermos of tea (sharing a cup with Earth Mom), feeling the shadowed cold kissing the back of my sweating neck.
After checking in with BiL on the walkie talkie, I began the descent back to the house. Midway down I saw the snowshoe tracks of my neighbor, Marion.
Popular place.
Settling in
The night we got home, the temperature was -19 as we came up our drive. This is a more typical Montana winter night, I am told. Nebraska feels frigid to me at far warmer temperatures, I suppose due to the more moist air there. But here, it's hard to believe the temps are so low, unless you happen to be out in them for a length of time. The still air is deceptive to the skin, so you have to be careful about bundling up.
After so much time in Nebraska, and then on the road, it felt surreal to be home. Our cat remembered me quickly, but took a little longer to warm up to BiL. Josh had the house wonderfully clear and clean, but I undid that as I unloaded the car. Pretty soon, the living room was blooming with boxes and suitcases, clothing and books from BiL's temporary digs in Nebraska. The boxes we had shipped would be picked up in town later, so we could focus on going through each box we'd brought with us anytime we were ready. For this night, though, we just enjoyed visiting with Josh, catching up news of his stay since coming back several days earlier.
I was really surprised to see BiL traversing the stairs so readily. He wanted to see the colors of the walls that had been painted since his last visit home in October. He loved them. :) He also decided to sleep upstairs for the night!
In the morning we went into town, taking BiL to his pt appointment, and taking Josh home. BiL got the good news from his therapist that his knee is coming along very well, and Josh got a pleasant surprise of his car starting even in the subzero temps. While BiL was in therapy, I made arrangements to have his snowtires put on his car next week. After the treatment, we both enjoyed cruising around Bozeman, getting our roots back down in the town.
It is always wrenching to leave all the folks we love back in Nebraska. Their faces, the sounds of their voices, the feel of their hugs remain very tangible to me all the way home and after. When I get home, it is like waking from one dream into another. This time, I found that I had to relearn some of the cupboard space in my kitchen to find certain cookware or dishes. My mind has been occupied first with BiL's pt appointments, then with the 'coming home' tasks like emptying suitcases, putting things away, getting the mail picked up and delivery started for that and for the paper, and stocking up on perishables. All these little chores serve to help bring me home in body and mind.
After so much time in Nebraska, and then on the road, it felt surreal to be home. Our cat remembered me quickly, but took a little longer to warm up to BiL. Josh had the house wonderfully clear and clean, but I undid that as I unloaded the car. Pretty soon, the living room was blooming with boxes and suitcases, clothing and books from BiL's temporary digs in Nebraska. The boxes we had shipped would be picked up in town later, so we could focus on going through each box we'd brought with us anytime we were ready. For this night, though, we just enjoyed visiting with Josh, catching up news of his stay since coming back several days earlier.
I was really surprised to see BiL traversing the stairs so readily. He wanted to see the colors of the walls that had been painted since his last visit home in October. He loved them. :) He also decided to sleep upstairs for the night!
In the morning we went into town, taking BiL to his pt appointment, and taking Josh home. BiL got the good news from his therapist that his knee is coming along very well, and Josh got a pleasant surprise of his car starting even in the subzero temps. While BiL was in therapy, I made arrangements to have his snowtires put on his car next week. After the treatment, we both enjoyed cruising around Bozeman, getting our roots back down in the town.
It is always wrenching to leave all the folks we love back in Nebraska. Their faces, the sounds of their voices, the feel of their hugs remain very tangible to me all the way home and after. When I get home, it is like waking from one dream into another. This time, I found that I had to relearn some of the cupboard space in my kitchen to find certain cookware or dishes. My mind has been occupied first with BiL's pt appointments, then with the 'coming home' tasks like emptying suitcases, putting things away, getting the mail picked up and delivery started for that and for the paper, and stocking up on perishables. All these little chores serve to help bring me home in body and mind.
Roadies
Two and a half weeks after his surgery, BiL braved the long trip back to Montana. We reclined his seat as far as we could, brought the trusty ice packs, packed the car as much as it could hold, prepared an easy to reach (for BiL) basket of goodies, and departed on our thousand mile plus way around 1:30 pm that day.
Routing ourselves to circumvent the worst of the latest snowstorms, we took a slow journey, stopping every 90 minutes so he could stretch and move that knee (doctor's orders). As the sole driver, I must admit that the frequent rest stops helped me stay alert. The roads were nearly empty, and dry as a bone through Nebraska and most of South Dakota. We found lodging in Rapid City for the night, and continued the next day into heavy winds and blowing snow. The road was mercifully dry and safe till we got into Wyoming. Reduced to single lane travel, I90 wound it's way along the higher altitudes with intermittent snowpack and ice. We stopped in Gillette for lunch. By the time we got to Sheridan, I was very happy to take a long break at the Java Moon, where BiL had a latte and I found just what I needed in a pot of honey lemon ginseng tea.
Almost at the Wyoming Montana border, the ice cleared and traffic returned to normal speeds. That is, until Billings, where the pavement sported a steady layer of ice. Another rest stop there, and then we continued slowly enough to keep our track steady. Things improved greatly after leaving Columbus, and we rolled into our little neighborhood around 9, I think.
Josh had the driveway cleared for us, a fire in the woodstove, and ample wood to get us through a couple days. After two 11 hour days on the road, what a welcome that was!
Routing ourselves to circumvent the worst of the latest snowstorms, we took a slow journey, stopping every 90 minutes so he could stretch and move that knee (doctor's orders). As the sole driver, I must admit that the frequent rest stops helped me stay alert. The roads were nearly empty, and dry as a bone through Nebraska and most of South Dakota. We found lodging in Rapid City for the night, and continued the next day into heavy winds and blowing snow. The road was mercifully dry and safe till we got into Wyoming. Reduced to single lane travel, I90 wound it's way along the higher altitudes with intermittent snowpack and ice. We stopped in Gillette for lunch. By the time we got to Sheridan, I was very happy to take a long break at the Java Moon, where BiL had a latte and I found just what I needed in a pot of honey lemon ginseng tea.
Almost at the Wyoming Montana border, the ice cleared and traffic returned to normal speeds. That is, until Billings, where the pavement sported a steady layer of ice. Another rest stop there, and then we continued slowly enough to keep our track steady. Things improved greatly after leaving Columbus, and we rolled into our little neighborhood around 9, I think.
Josh had the driveway cleared for us, a fire in the woodstove, and ample wood to get us through a couple days. After two 11 hour days on the road, what a welcome that was!
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Stones in the path
Yesterday I packed and lifted (4 times) 265 lbs of office books and teaching materials from BiL's office at the U... toted and shipped them home, as we'll have no room to take them ourselves. Tons (well, really, pounds) of effort, but it felt good to have it done. We still have several more boxes worth of stuff that will come from the room where he's lived for the past season of teaching which will also get shipped. BiL's mobility and stamina is returning as his pain decreases. Today he gets the 20 staples removed. I think we are both eager to see what changes he experiences when those are not restricting his knee movement. Last night we celebrated his last anticoagulent injection with his favorite frozen yogurt dessert.
Small works with great love has been the theme this week, and we are both doing better, I think. I use the web and my emails to monitor the weather at the house. Movement seems to be a constant, whether keeping joints limber or setting boxes in motion towards home. Even my son's family is moving today... going on a ski trip. Inertia is a constant and needs to be overcome but then it's amazing to experience the changes that happen.
BiL is now eager to get on the road, too, to go home. This is a tremendous step of recovery.
Small works with great love has been the theme this week, and we are both doing better, I think. I use the web and my emails to monitor the weather at the house. Movement seems to be a constant, whether keeping joints limber or setting boxes in motion towards home. Even my son's family is moving today... going on a ski trip. Inertia is a constant and needs to be overcome but then it's amazing to experience the changes that happen.
BiL is now eager to get on the road, too, to go home. This is a tremendous step of recovery.
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