Misery and Her Company

My oldest daughter and I bonded last week over an impromptu hospital stay.  103-degree fever.  Red eyes.  Abdominal and lower back pain.  Chills.  Abject misery.  Her kidneys decided a mid-week infection would garner them the attention they so desperately required and obviously weren't getting!  For over two days, me and my girlie hung out with nurses and technicians and cleaning staff, waited on various doctors, watched the IV with it's hydrating fluids and Cipro anti-biotic drip, drip, dri-i-i-p, played with our iPhones, accepted visitors, ordered what I thought was decent-enough food from the kitchen somewhere down below our room (that's 607), made a few new friends, soaked up enough episodes of "Say YES To The Dress" to choke an engaged elephant AND wondered when home might appear somewhere in the not-too-distant future.  She was a trooper.  

I thought I'd share a few photos from our bed-and-breakfast stay.  

Start with one very illin' girlie.

Check-in service.

It's either Doppelganger vampires or the Valdez men with red-eye checking in on the patient. 

REcyclable flowers from Earth Diva Melissa: double-bloom bi-color beauties that will be planted this fall out of Hankie Mutt's range.  My tired brain is drawing a blank on what is a very common and delightful flowering bush!

Earth Diva Gayla and her hubby, Rodney (also our pastor and good friend), stopped by to amuse us with their grins and giggles.
[Earth Diva Val and her husband also dropped in to comfort and check in on Ash.  However, they did not want to appear in my 'photo expose!'] 

One of our highly capable nurses taking charge!

Our pretty patient during a walk in the hall to enjoy the view and her latte.

A mama and her girlie.

Her boyfriend, John, stayed the night, uncomfortably so, covered from head to toe to avoid spreading his miserable case of poison ivy.

The wonder drug o' the stay . . . 

Entertainment in the palm of your hand.

Had the scan revealed a troubled appendix or a kidney stone blockage, this guy here would have done the digging.  He ran to work; the headband was a gift from his older children.  Think about what famous president he resembles before I tell you his name.  Got it?  Okay: Jimmy Carter.  No kidding! 

Our friend and assistant pastor, Tim "Baconator" Baker, stopped in for a visit.
He thought maybe we were lying for attention.  We had a revealing conversation about the merits of the pork meat which is his fourth love, after Christ, his wife and his son.  He would appreciate my bacon-ice cream treat of last night.

This woman was a conversational delight.  Miss Brenda.  She also left our room spic and span.  Service with a smile and then some.  A true gem of a real person.
MTMC -- Middle Tennessee Medical Center ala Hipstamatic shot during a walk.

Another Hipstamatic app shot via iPhone of the sunset.

Room with a view: 6th floor vista on the NW side.

Fourteener

In less than 24 hours, my knees and I will be ascending Long's Peak with my little sister, her fiance, his Marine buddy and Marine buddy's girlfriend.  Yes, that's 3AM in Colorado.  Evidently, one must arrive at the peak before the afternoon in order to make it down in time.  The time I'm recalling in the informational recap rolling around inside my head encompasses a "cool, scary and monumental" adventure of roughly 16 hours.  I told my sister I'll focus on the cool and monumental part . . . but I'll be prepared for scary.  I think.

Now, my involvement in said outdoor trek came about two night ago when my sister called to say she had found an affordable airline ticket and wondered if I might want to join her little high altitude party on Saturday.  For me, who likes to plan and has plans stacked up into next year on her TO DO list of hobbies, chores and volunteering, THAT is pretty last minute.  But when how often does such an opportunity come round?  Especially pre-paid?!  A quick conference with the hubby left me with clearance for takeoff! (Though he made it abundantly clear just how much he detests caring for the animals . . . I think Hank is who he actually means . . . and Hank does require more attention than any pet we've previously owned, I must say.)

So, you'd think that boulder fields, and steep rocky paths, and a little thing that one climber called "the narrows" in the photo expose of HIS climb ( click here for pics: some other guy's adventure ) would rank as my main concern this morning.  Bu-u-u-t, NO.  In no specific order, perhaps even sharing pole position, my biggest challenges of the moment are packing and heartburn.

The heartburn comes courtesy of an all-day bake-and-cook fest for my only son's 17th birthday dinner party.  Lack of sleep, excitement and nervousness about the impromptu trip and hormones had me eating sugar from sun-up to sundown with a protein in between.  Not much in the way of fruits or veggies or whole grain. I did add flax seed to my cake and milk for lunch -- I believe flax can go anywhere -- and the addition of home-fried bacon bits in my Kentucky Delight ice cream proved to be a phenomenal combo!  I kid you not.  Would THIS face lie?

Or THIS face?

I did not, nor will I ever, prevaricate to garner sympathy and attention from my readers.

 No deception here.

 Surely THIS morning-hair is incapable of spreading untruth?

I paid the extra $20 to have the privilege -- because that's what the airlines make it seem like now -- of having a piece of luggage come along with me to Colorado.  And my borrowed internal-skeleton backpack from my daughter's boyfriend will be the most important item in that bag.  Followed by clothes for layering to meet any foreseeable weather conditions, including 45 degree temps as we draw near the summit, rain, sun, etc.  My living will (though it wasn't on the list).  Camera and lenses.  Carbo-rich food for energy.  Water.  Dry socks.  My iPhone.  Toilet paper and plastic bags for packing out.  A Swiss knife or comparable.  Maybe a small notebook and pen. Mini self-activating ice packs for my knees, which will be ensconced in flexible cloth braces.  And whatever else I'm instructed to include. This is my first true hike-climb of a "fourteener!"  I expect it to whup my hiney and plant itself firmly in my memory banks.  Wheee!

Below I've pasted a more-than-decent explanation of the whole fourteener thing.  I've always heard about them but never really expected to be a part of the movement.  This may be addicting and become a bucket list item.  As you scroll down, you'll see where the effects of altitude sickness are listed.  Yeah-h-h . . . I'm going in hydrated and staying that way.  As for the admonition at the very bottom of the write-up, no one has to tell me twice to avoid loose rock debris covering a slope!

So as I leave you dear readers to your day and go about the business of raiding my closet and dresser, please . . . say a little prayer for me and my climbing partners as we head out to tackle one of the less-than-easy mountains on the fourteener list.  Thanks.

FOURTEENERS

***Colorado has 54 mountain peaks exceeding 14,000 feet (known as "fourteeners" or "14ers" by locally) — the most of any state. Outdoor enthusiasts of all skill levels will find peaks ranging from easy to very difficult, with hiking trails for exploring the state's scenery, wildlife and rugged beauty.

Some of the Colorado's best-known fourteeners include the tallest, Mount Elbert (14,433 feet); Pikes Peak (14,110), which inspired the poem "America the Beautiful"; and Longs Peak (14,255), which resides inside Rocky Mountain National Park.

The reward for reaching the summit of one of these giants? Some of the most breathtaking views you'll find anywhere on the planet. But it's important to know a few things before you head out to these massive Colorado fourteeners.

BE AWARE OF THE EFFECTS OF ALTITUDE

While climbing up a fourteener can lead you to breathtaking views, the thinner air can lead to altitude sickness. Altitude sickness is brought on by a lack of oxygen to your body and a failure to acclimate to air that has less oxygen. It can be caused by going too high, too fast.

The problem is, everyone's body has a different rate of acclimating, so it's important to be aware of any changes you feel. The most widely felt symptom is a headache, but other symptoms include shortness of breath, tightness in the chest, marked fatigue and weakness. If you experience any of these, just follow the simple guidelines below and let others know you're not feeling 100 percent. Symptoms often improve once your body adapts to the higher elevation, but you need to be patient — and most importantly, keep hydrated and take it easy.

• Drink plenty of water; replenishing fluids helps to stabilize your body.

• Take it easy; don’t over-exert yourself.

• Experts recommend eating a high carbohydrate diet while at altitude.

• Keep alcohol intake and smoking to a minimum.

• Remember that altitude sickness can affect anybody, even top-flight athletes.

• Most importantly: if you're not feeling well, let someone know.

LEAVE NO TRACE

Colorado has the great fortune of having these 54 majestic fourteeners right in our backyard. But every year, an increasing number of hikers and climbers attempt to ascend one of these peaks, impacting the alpine environment. It is up to those who love these mountains to minimize damage to their fragile ecosystems. The Leave No Trace (LNT) program is dedicated to building awareness, appreciation, and most of all, respect for our public recreation places. It is not based on rules and regulations as much as attitude and awareness.

Please be sure to follow the Leave No Trace principles so that future generations can continue to enjoy Colorado's breathtaking mountains:

• Rest on rock, not on vegetation.

• Leave what you find, including flowers and berries.

• Pack out all food; don't throw it on the ground.

• Conduct bathroom stops at least 200 feet from bodies of water.

• Pack out toilet paper in plastic bags.

• Stay on designated trails and don't cut across switchbacks.

• Walk through puddles on the trail, not around them, to avoid creating wider or multiple trails.

• Spread out when walking in areas where there is no trail.

• Avoid loose rock debris covering a slope; use the most stable route.

For more information on the fourteeners in Colorado, including a complete list, visit the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative.

  

A Tail of Two Tongues

My mornings generally begin in the kitchen.  At least, a significant portion of my mornings do.  If you don't count the sidewalk pounding with Hank -- today, a barking dog had him on edge, so when a garage door suddenly opened, he yanked me and my left arm halfway across the street before I knew what was happening, and OUCH -- or my plentiful ablutions, from face to teeth to feet to sunscreen.  Or reading the morning paper, er, wait . . . that's Facebook.  Sometimes the only news I care to know.  But I've wandered astray, I do believe. 

Where was I?  Oh, yes!  The kitchen.  My world of Santoku and suds ala Dawn, pots and pans, carrots and cutting boards, lunch boxes and lentils, tongues and tidbits.  Hmmm.  One of these things is not like the other.  One of these things just doesn't belong.  (Ah, shades of Sesame Street, one of the happier elements of my childhood, for sure!)  Well, of course it must be the tongues and tidbits.  Unless you cook with every part of the cow, tongue generally belongs in one's mouth and is useful for both tasting food and kissing the cook (IF, and only IF you are my husband, please don't show up for dinner expecting to thank me in the romantic French method, I will NOT respond favorably.)  For the record, I'm a traditional user of the tongue, eschewing such random edible parts of animals as stomach, tongue, sphincter, brain, etc.  I draw the line right after ox tail.  Which is delightful in soup.  I'll share that recipe some time.  Perhaps a pictorial on the process.

Having said all that, there's another use for tongue in my room of food and fun.  (I do so love my kitchen.)  A certain ivory-and-caramel-colored overgrown pup and a wide-eyed enchanting wisp of a kitten-cat employ their tongues with rampant delight on anything uncovered, not nailed down or otherwise neglected.  On countertop.  Stovetop.  Sink.  Um, dishwasher.  Table.  The floor is a given.  (Gosh, maybe you WON'T be thanking me if you even accept an offer to dine with us!) 

With Hankie Mutt, sticks of butter or grilled cheese sandwiches rank amongst his favorites; this morning it was an unsuccessful bid for the mixing bowl full of chicken salad for his master's lunch whilst I dashed off to void my bladder.  You should have heard my shouts from where I was perched!  He's brazen at times.  A quick jump when one's back is turned for the briefest of moments.  Those heavy paws are none too subtle in their landing -- that and his tinkling collar rank as our anti-theft audio alerts when he's out of sight.   But it's the sneaky submarine-like way in which he hovers just below the line of the counter, lifting his nose to break the surface in periscope-fashion, before quickly flopping his head onto the cool tiles to scoop-slide-and-sink that often has me in stitches.  Post-scolding, of course!  Part submarine, part killer whale snapping a baby seal from the edge of an ice floe.

Now, our dainty Miss Quill flits about with all of the stealth and grace of any proficient feline on the prowl.  It is only the faint sounds of her ID tag tinkling against a glass or the slight metallic ring of the frying pan bumping the edge of the sink which announce her intentions.  She's fond of crumbs of all kinds.  Empty cans of tuna or chicken that don't make it immediately to the recyclable bin.  The remains of Breyer's Churned Vanilla ice cream melting down the sides of a discarded bowl.  Even a spoon used to stir in the half-n-half for Ashley's coffee.  I faintly recall an afternoon where she hit the big time when someone set a plate of smoked chicken wing bones (Slick Pig, favorite fare there) on a pile of dishes.  By the time we noticed her slight frame amidst the stacked ceramic, aforementioned bones had been reduced to a pile of calcium fragments.  Ashley freaked; Quill lived.  

You know-w, they're animals.  They're opportunistic.  They're young.  They are constantly around food in all of its many states.  So if the humans lose track, slip in their due diligence, forget to rinse, throw away, wipe down or cover the edibles, it should come as no surprise when the foraging commences.  The jewel-toned blue spray bottle finds itself pressed into use quite often: some of us a bit more trigger happy than others.  And both pets understand a loud stern, "NO," though the cat actually RESPONDS more promptly than the mutt.  Knowing that golden-eyed canine as well as I do, I can't say I'm shocked or surprised by that behavioral fact.

While I don't stop to photograph my dynamic dining-on-the-lam duo in that act, it is NOT uncommon to find me plopping down on the floor to observe their doings and become a part of their whimsical existence for a time.  Without further introduction, please enjoy a slice of late morning in MY world:

 What's that I hear?

 Oh, it's that dove couple who moved into the bushes last month.

 I'd be EVER so happy to make their acquaintance.  Sigh-h-h.

 Hello?  You there?  Mister & Missus Dove, would you mind terribly coming over and introducing yourselves?

 I don't think they can hear me . . . 

 . . . or perhaps, my dear mistress, they can't SEE me through this dirty glass door!  I gaze through this door every morning.  You even open it up for me.

But you haven't addressed the spots and smudges and smears.  I've been waiting for just the right opportunity to tell you this.

 See.  If you . . . just . . . turn like this . . . you can really see what I'm talking about.  The glass is in a terrible state ALL THE WAY to the top!

 Would you mind grabbing the Windex and one of those fun rags with the threads hanging from the edges?  Please?  I'll wait here.  There may still be time for my new neighbors to see me and come let me eat, er, visit them.

 And while you're at it, maybe you could rub my belly real quick-like?

 Ahh, thank you.  I hope we can still be friends.  I don't want to hurt your feelings.  Though a professional window-cleaner you're NOT, you are the BEST belly-rubber in the house!

(But don't tell Ashley or John that: they think THEY are the best belly-rubbers.

Humans.  Us pets always have to validate their need to be good owners!)

 Mom?

 Did I hear somebody say BELLY RUB?

 Look deep into these eyes and recognize MY need for a belly rub.

 And then, after that, I'LL go play with Quill if the doves won't!

 And I wouldn't bother washing that door too well.

I'm just gonna lick it again the next time I'm in there.

Do we have a deal?  Mom?

Monday Distraction

Good morning on what has already shaped up into a hectic Monday in the arid month of August.  At least arid in some parts.  I know my brother and his family in central California may have melted into a puddle of gummy human goo by now.  However, here in Middle Tennessee our unseasonably withering spring surrendered to a moderately moist, if quite warm, mid-summer.  And this past week has been a gift of cool evenings and wonderfully mild mornings.  I ain't complaining.

In that vein, Hankie Mutt and I (Hank shifted from wonder pup to mutt after exhibiting increasingly male adult dog tendencies AND chewing on the top corner of my handsome solid wood kitchen table a month or so ago) enjoyed a relaxing foray on the local walking trail.  Though I left my camera -- actually, my younger sister's loaned DSLR of which I've grown quite fond -- in the Yukon back in the parking lot, me and my Hipstamatic iPhone app bonded over trains, poison ivy (only in digital and NOT on skin) and whatever else caught my distracted fancy.  And we still logged enough miles to consider it exercise of the active kind.

 This is why one must REGULARLY exercise and mentally stimulate pets.

Especially certain breeds of active dogs who are not able to actually fulfill the requirements of their particular breed!

 Hank finds water to be QUITE stimulating!

 His mistress finds nature to be rather stimulating.

 Juniper Berries

 Hank handled the passing of a very verbose and loooong train with dignity.

 This shot was quite accidental but delightful -- my Hipstamatic app will randomly choose film/lens/flash when the phone is shaken!

 The kind of uninspired shot which occurs when a certain white-haired mutt yanks the leash when his mistress is unprepared for said yank by Hank!

 Take one: John S Lens/Freedom 13 Film/no flash

 Take Two: same/add half-flash

 Take Three: THE WINNER -- full flash.  THE shot o' the day.

 One need not travel very far at all to find reminders of the Civil War.

 I wanted to clamber up this tree and sit for awhile.  

Had to settle for a quick pic instead.

Again, the camera app chose randomly because I moved too fast.

I wanted to capture the reds in the bark.

 Birds-eye view of the fence surrounding the Civil War site.

 New redbud leaves.

 I prefer this lens and light.

 But wish they had been combined with THIS perspective.

 Bark Park: no dogs in sight . . . only this lone acorn in the mud . . . 

 . . . and this fungus in the field!

 Oh, and the garbage overflowing the small receptacle on the fence.

 Too much light but what a handsome moth: pretty eyes!

 Our unusual weather has encouraged an unusual pattern on the locust pods.

The tree looked as if it was draped in serpents.

 Every last one of these dogs was under control and mellow.

 To his credit, Hankie Mutt remained in control whilst they passed!

 Hank and I don't wander into the brush much here in Tennessee.

Poison ivy and its cousins ABOUND!

 Red berries for the red birds.

 The heavy inedible tennis-ball-green fruit of the Osage orange tree.

They have the power to crack a windshield when falling onto the road.

 Sign lichen.

 Sign above lichen.

 Underpass art with red gel half-flash.

 A mellowed mutt -- two hours later.

 Blue with a decidedly yellow cast.

Subdued blue.

 Vivid color . . . 

 . . . black & white detail.

 Another shaken-and-stirred happy photo accident.

 Au naturelle. 

 A study of greens.

******* ****** *******

My walks save me from madness at times.  I take full advantage.  Running and videos just can't compete.  Not for me, anyway.  My endorphins much prefer to kick-in step-by-step, dog-at-my-side, pixel-to-pixel.  Know thyself.  Heal thyself.  At least in part.

I leave you with one final image.  My bargain find at Ross Dress For Less.  This thrilled me to no end.  And it'll dress up my writing room shelf quite splendidly.  During an Earth Diva outing where we shop-hopped in downtown Franklin, I found myself taken with these glass human heads in a particular funky clothing boutique.  I actually wondered aloud where one might find such a thing.  And promptly forgot about it.  Until yesterday.  

For some reason, my husband and daughter were not quite as delighted with my purchase.  In fact, they seemed rather disturbed.  Oh, well.  Each to his own.