Save Our (Healthy) Trees.

Monday July 2, 2012  is the last informational meeting about the Asian Longhorned Beetle and the Environmental Assessment.  If you still have questions this is where to go. The  when is Monday 6 pm to 9 pm, at the Grant Career Center in Bethel Ohio,

The Environmental Assessment is a collection of facts. If you haven't yet read it, you can do so here: http://www.bethelalb.com/ALB-OH-ClermontCounty-2012-EA.pdf

Environment is important to everything and everyone. You may feel, as some in Loveland do, that the way to get rid of the beetle is to devastate Tate Townships wooded areas -- which include East Fork State Park eventually.

Already, those who have had trees removed are feeling the effects. Higher energy bills, as the heating and cooling provided by trees has decreased. Flooding, small streams turned into full-bodied creeks, carrying away soil and sewage and litter. Once arable fields that lie in water when it rains, with no trees to soak up the excess. Septic tank fields with no drainage and no absorption, creating a risk of excess sewage rising.

No one is urging officials to stop prevention measures. The truth is, most of the afflicted would like to see the government sponsored agencies comply with their own standards instead of excusing noncompliance.  Very few people object to the removal of infested trees. They want to save the healthy ones, give them a vaccination against infection. The vaccination is less expensive than the removal, the hauling, and the grinding.

That may not be what you think will be best. That decision is up to you, but I urge you, especially if you live in or close to the infested areas, educate yourself. Look at the trees on your property and ask yourself "What if?" Learn what you can do, what they can do, what will happen if this, that, or the other is done.

If you have questions, attend the meeting. If you can't attend the meeting, contact a member of the ALB team: http://www.bethelalb.com/  They will give you what answers they have, or point you in the direction of clear factual sources.

Once you have thought it over and thought it through, speak up and speak out. Tell the USDA what you would want them to do with YOUR trees.

Because someday, in some way, it will be your trees.

The Adams County Informer

I bought my last issue today.

The Informer is a small newspaper in competition with Brown Publishing's  People's Defender here in Adams County. It was a nice paper, understandably small, but full of the small town (county) news. All the car accidents (well, a lot of them), ambulance runs, fire calls -- this information made it to this paper. The thicker, heavier, and more expensive Defender only reported a few, usually the most spectacular -- ones that made the city news broadcasts --  or the ones somehow involving *names* in the county. And  ad nauseum court news (which never really tell anything) and board meetings ad infinitum.

The Informer had  a Picture of the Week from readers, and a few words from the editor Troy Jolly every week. The personal touch.

There wasn't much advertising, which is normal for a little guy competing against an established and many-armed.competitor. There was some kind of political good-buddying going on that kept public service ads from being listed in the Informer. Something about having to reach more people instead of costing less and it really cost less per person to pay more to the bedfellow newspaper. Not fair. Not fair at all. I always thought that those sort of announcements -- sheriff's sales, village and school bids for goods or services, etc -- had to be published  with/in/through all available public media.

I faithfully bought my little Informer every week, because I liked the tone of the paper, and because I love, love, love the idea of a local paper produced locally.  The paper must have been doing okay, because there were new employees being introduced.

Then, in November, Mr. Jolly was elected mayor of Manchester. He's doing a good job, even according to his competition. They are faithfully reporting the changes and improvements happening under Mayor Jolly's watch.

His paper was faithfully reporting the changes, too. So much so that in the last few months the paper could be called the Manchester Informer. That's a natural enough change, so I didn't mind it. Not so happy about it, but I understood.

But now, the car accidents and fire runs have disappeared. The Picture of the Week is missing, and so are the 'Words'.The articles that appear are mostly publicity sent out by the various organizations. Fresh stories are few and far between. When there are fresh stories, they are badly organized and badly written. There are spelling errors and there are grammar errors.

This week there's a glaring grammar error in a Manchester story. AEP has went around and fixed the street lights.... That's exactly what the paper said.

Well, I have went and spent my last fifty cents on the Manchester Braggart's Bulletin. I expect  literacy when I read a newspaper. News would be nice, but literacy is a MUST.

I will have to look farther afield for my Adams County Information.

Lawns are Overrated

This summer may be as memorable for its Lawn Mowing Crises as it will be for its No Bathing scenario.

When last we mowed, the riding mower  wasn't starting, so not running, and our quasi son-in-law had been mowing when the push mower decided to oil both him and the yard, as if from a cut artery. Rex went to a yard sale and bought another push mower. The Doofus mowed, but before he finished, he managed to break a ceramic guard off the newly purchased mower.

Rex managed to start and run the rider a few times, through the magic of jiggling and wiggling the fuse box, so the yard was done after a fashion. Not that he has had any business outside in heat and humidity, throwing up clouds of cut grass and pollens.
Earlier this week he was mowing on the rider when it quit cutting. It was running, but it just quit cutting the grass.
His diagnosis: a bearing on the deck went out. (Later he said it might be a broken or stretched-out belt, but of course the first thing he thought of was the most difficult and probably the most expensive cause.) We're waiting for Doofus to come and help him check it out, since it isn't something Rex can do alone or with my feeble assistance.

Yesterday I got out the push mower. I couldn't start it. Starting a push mower requires more co-ordination than I have ever had, and a fair bit of strength. I had hoped to have some mowing done by the time Rex woke, but that wasn't going to happen.

The sad thing is, he no longer has the strength to push/pull/hold and start the mower. At least, he didn't yesterday. It may have been a bad day for him. More likely it is his chronic illness catching up with him.
He's not ready to concede that, and it will take something from his spirit when he does.

What's so important about mowing anyway? Have you ever tried letting your lawn grow and seeing what Mother Nature will provide when you don't scalp her abundance to nothing?

There are shy little white flowers, with sprinklings of gold fairy dust that will creep out from the exposed roots of trees. There are exquisitely tiny johnny-jump-ups that jump up from nowhere. There are, of course, the golden sun discs of the dandelion. The white-to-pink-to-purple fronds of clover. There is the weaving waving sinuous grass-in-the-wind. And that's just the plant life!

Lawn mowing is overrated. It's too bad that so many towns require a certain amount of lawn mowing, because Nature provides a nice variety of textures and colors and scents and sounds and general liveliness that will never be felt, seen, smelled, or heard in a properly manicured and subdued lawn.

I cherish the variety Nature provides. I also cherish my husband, and I mourn with him that he cannot do this one thing that he has taken pride in being able to do -- keep his yard looking nice. If we cannot fix or replace his rider, or get a push mower that doesn't need starting (my first brother suggested an electric mower -- a wonderful idea for the purpose), then we will have to look into a different living arrangement.

Different indeed, with no lawn for him to mow or me to watch nature grow. It will be sad to leave the roots and wonders, but a joy to leave the(before, during, later on) malfunctioning machinery behind and have it out of our lives.


When that day ever comes. It's taking its time, as Nature takes hers, and fills my yard with flowers.

A Rousing Good Whatchacallit.

I love to debate. I love to argue. I sometimes love to take an opposing view on a topic just to rile someone. Or to try and figure out where I do stand on an issue. Or to find out where the gaps in knowledge are -- mine as well as theirs.

Because I like to learn. I like to know. I like to think, and I like to see others thinking and learning.

Sometimes the same subject will come up again. Sometimes because the person on the other side doesn't leave things alone. More often because something new has come to light and needs to be examined, taken apart, checked out, cleaned up and put back together again. The best way for me to do that is to be arguing (debating) with someone about it.

A debate is a good way to find out where you don't have any answers, or that the answers you have may be inadequate. After all, there is no one like a sibling to say "nyah, nyah, you don't got an answer." Or a friend who will say, "But why not?"

Hyperbole, of a sort, can play into this type of debate. I will sometimes make a grand, broad statement, then sit back to see how people react. I think I know how this one will, or what that one will say, but much more often, I am proven wrong in my expectation. I like that.

Hyperbole can draw attention to a topic, too. Sometimes, saying something wrong can get people talking. To you, asking or telling you about your wrongness. Sometimes to one another, about how wrong you can be, and how you got that way.

So don't be afraid of argument, discussion, debate. It will keep fresh winds blowing through your brains. It will help you see 'old' friends and family in a new way.

It will keep you lively, and alive.

Asaian Longhon Beetle « occamsedge

Asaian Longhon Beetle « occamsedge

Flow of Family Fun

My brother's wedding Saturday made me think of how we, as a family, handle the ebb and flow of these get-togethers. Summer means there will be a few, and maybe a few more.

I opted out of many family events because I wanted to avoid conflict with my dad, who is gone now. He and I were on opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, and he was always outspoken about his beliefs. I don't think he ever meant to start any fuss and bother, he just wanted to convince everyone of how he believed.

Add to his firmness, the fact that he was deaf, and whether one agreed or disagreed, one had to shout and make prolonged eye contact to converse. I don't know how it works for others, but shouting, even over innocuous topics, ends up with me becoming angry. Shouting as a physical function, raises the blood pressure, which causes a flood of other reactions.

Anyway, because of the situation, I avoided. Didn't stop my girls from knowing their grandfather, did prevent them from seeing me act like a shrewish lunatic with him.

Now, I see my own daughter mirroring this behavior. Because of work and also because of some personal issues with family members, she has avoided the family get-togethers. No one wants to be involved in a fight, or to be the person everyone in the family fights with or becomes angry over the fighting.
Anyway, she has chosen to abstain from the possibility of conflict.

But she worries about her child not getting to know this side of her family, and the solution Tam reached was the same one I did. To allow the child to attend in the care of another family member. (In her case. me.)

Maybe it's wrong, but it seems to me the best solution. Not in every situation, not for every event, but in general it's a good thing. It acknowledges the importance of family, it keeps up traditions. even starts a new one -- tradition by proxy.

Like all families, we disagree. Sometimes we take sides against one another, and we'll talk to a third member about how stupid so-and-so is about whatever. We can be vicious or angry, or vicious and angry.
But when we get together as a group, we try to enjoy one another's company without conflict. We aren't perfect, sometimes a forbidden topic slips in and someone feels attacked.

We respect one another. We know we are available to each-and-every in at least some way. Making an effort to keep the young ones connected even when we can't teaches them, by example, that family IS important. The events that Family is Fun. No matter if it's you or they who are the stupid or wrong ones. Family IS.

As the worldly world whirls by, as weather wreaks havoc, as all our institutions are besieged, there can be no stronger message to leave our children.

Fear of Phobia

I'm becoming, I'm afraid, a borderline agoraphobic.
No, I have become a borderline agoraphobic.
The becoming I'm worried about is the full blown phobia.

I don't think that will ever happen. I have too many chores and a granddaughter. That should be enough to keep me getting out on a fairly regular basis. And there are doctor's visits for my husband, and going to the pharmacy, and grocery shopping.

Those things should all keep me going, keep me out and about. I'm not so sure they will. Even if they do, I'm not sure that some of those things count. I don't enjoy them. I don't relish going to Walmart after prescriptions. I don't stop at this store or that and peek and poke and just enjoy myself, just enjoy getting out, even though God knows I rarely get alone time except in the car. Maybe alone time isn't really that important, anyway. I can always be alone inside myself. Inside my computer, or lost in a book. (That's not really alone, though. There are people in those books, and some of them are stupider than the ones in real life. Who'd've ever thought that was possible?)

In some ways, I feel I've been heading that way -- this way -- for all my life. I've never been able to easily or naturally speak to other people, sometimes not even those I know well. I have had my electricity and my water shut off because I was unable to make the telephone calls to make arrangements to pay. (Many years ago; not recently.)

But now I leave reluctantly. Not even my writers group holds the same interest for me, because my life has so changed. For a year I had limited contact with the real world.
I had no telephone and no internet. Because of Rex's hospitalization, and his doctor's and medicines, and having to pay other people gas money, the bills got way behind. So there was little talking with anyone, except when I needed something. That doesn't encourage socializing from either party involved. At least I didn't feel that it did. .

No car -- I had to get rides, or arrange rides, everywhere and anywhere. Few trips were worth the trouble. My writer friends were the ones with the most available help, but my sisters were always there also. The writers happen to live and work closer.
But even with their help, I was isolated and alone, and there's too much to handle alone, but I did it.



I did it all, from the safety net of my home.

I'm afraid, often. I'm afraid to leave because I worry about Rex getting sick or falling when I'm gone. Some nights I can't sleep, because I'm afraid I'll wake up and he won't be breathing. I'm afraid to drive anywhere, because what if I'm involved in an accident and get hurt? What will happen to Rex when someone else brings him that kind of news? Who will take care of him while I can't?
My God, what if I get crippled?
What will happen to Rex if I get killed?

Rex, bless his heart, encourages me to go to my group, and to go to family events, if he knows about them. I usually don't tell him, because he won't /can't go. And I don't want to leave him alone for hours at a time. All the what-ifs come alive when that happens.

I can't let this progress. It must not be allowed to get any worse. Even I cannot live that self-contained. There are chores that must be done, errands that must be run. And what kind of example am I setting for Hailey if I turn myself into the Hermit Grandmother? It's bad enough that Pappaw is already that way.

Thank goodness for summer, for the season of picnics and reunions and weddings. Thank God for sisters and friends and other family who will coax me or bully me out of my little blue hole. They, more than anything I can do, are what keeps me straight, keeps me trying. Keeps me on the sane side of the line,

I can thank none of them enough. Ever.

Shower: A Blessing

One of the many, many things we take for granted these days is the ability to take a shower. Or a daily bath. Try to imagine your life without these amenities.

No big deal, you may think. One can wash in the sink, do a sponge bath, use plenty of deodorant and change clothes several times a day.
Yes, but how long will that be effective for the personal hygienic standards we have for ourselves?  How long before you just feel that these makeshift measures are overwhelmingly inadequate?
Because they are indeed inadequate in the long run.

My bathroom is being remodeled. Actually, the floor is being replaced. Everything had to be taken out, and new floor joists put in, which means the foundation had to be adjusted or braced in a couple of places. Nothing is being done quickly, all is being done thoroughly. In the meantime, the only source of water to eash with is the kitchen sink.

To make it worse, I live in town, with house to the right of me, house to the left of me, houses behind me. There is really little expectation of privacy, even with blankets covering the windows and all the doors locked. One doesn't linger over ablutions in those circumstances.
Can't even put up a camp shower because of too-close neighbors and too many out of school children. They like to inspect and question and look.

I never thought I was a person overly concerned with bathing. All the years I worked in fast food ingrained some things more deeply than I knew. One of those things was bathing regularly.

I'm embarrassed.
I don't want to go out.

My baby-est brother (they are all younger than me) is getting married this weekend. One of the reasons I'm not going is because I don't want to embarrass him (them) by being the most malodorous guest, These days I not only look like an elephant, I feel that I am beginning to smell like one.
I picture myself as Pigpen, with clouds of body-stink emanating from me, instead of good clean dirt.

Now, I know some of this may be exaggerated, but I've had persistent body-odor issues in my life. And I just plain don't, can't,  feel clean.

So, don't take your shower for granted. Hug it, kiss it, thank god for it. Add it to your list of things third world people would like to have, like broccoli. Microwaveable broccoli. Bathe with indulgence, just that you have water and soap, and more water to remove the soap, all the soap.

And, oh yeah, if you encounter someone smelly, spend some time conversing with them. It may not be their fault, and you shouldn't be a snob.

bone crushing

My husband had to go to the doctor Monday. The office called him and made the appointment. You can bet that set off alarm bells. He has so many health concerns we didn't even know which one to worry about. They did say something about his spinal x-rays, but that really didn't narrow it down a whole lot. Because we have had things show up in x-rays that are not what he was being x-rayed for. An enlarged kidney showed up in chest x-rays.

We were referred to a urologist who saw Rex once, sent him for some kind of test at a hospital that had to have cash before doing anything, and we never heard from that specialist again. Don't know to this day what, if anything, the test determined, in spite of calling and both asking and leaving messages. When our family doctor bulldozed us into this appointment, she felt the matter was urgent. Then, she left the group practice she was with and has apparently fallen off the face of the earth. Could it be his kidneys?

He fractured his spine forty years ago, could it be something from that?

Did something in his lungs show up in the background?

He has osteoporosis. Well, he's had that for a while, but this is advancing, which means getting worse. We've been referred to another specialist, this one out of state. His spinal column is collapsing and disintegrating. The T1 through T4 vertabrae are crumbs, with 'significant wedging' on almost all the rest.

Our doctor, who is new to us, says he has never ever seen anyone with such an advanced case of osteoporosis.  Especially not so young. Especially not a male.

We discussed smoking, we discussed heredity, we discussed childhood malnutrition. All factors. But, to figure out what to do, he needs to be seen by an endocrinologist. My guess is that they are considering he'll need the IV type treatments. (He was on Fosamax but began having too much bone pain in his hips and thighs, and we dropped that stuff like it scalded.)

So, we're again hanging in Limbo, and I'm bouncing from wall-to-wall maybes.

I'm also looking for information on what to expect if the deterioration continues. What do I need to be especially watchful for? How can I help? What needs to be reported to the doctors? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

And I can't find out. There are a few  million definitions of osteoporosis available on the internet. There are a few million treatments being sold, or advised, or encouraged. So far, there has not been one site that answers my questions. Apparently everywhere on the Internet is the belief that calcium, vitamin D and the magic of medicine cures osteoporosis, or at least halts it in its tracks.

Therefore, no one needs to know what advanced severe osteoporosis will do to a middle-aged severely emphysemic man with one big kidney.

I really hate that all the different websites say the same things over and over and over. Sometimes in different languages, but still the same-old, same-old.

In this great Information Age, can no one answer my questions?