Letting Other Senses Drive

I was going to go to Tam​'s today to pick up the kids. This was around 4 pm. I started out on 32, decided to make a stop, and took out tri-county to 62. I was going to pick up 32 when I got back to it, because tri-county had ice. But I dislike 32 during the day, because of trucks and traffic, and was considering taking tri-county on into Mt Orab.
I decided I would let the traffic decide for me.
However, once there, I crossed to the center and then noticed heavy traffic coming at me. I told Tracy I should have turned.
I thought I heard a siren coming up behind me, but it must have been on 32, the radio, or my imagination.

Coming out of Sardinia, a Brown County sheriff went screaming past Heading into Sardinia,)

Coming into Mt Orab, there came a fire truck/rescue vehicle heading at us. I said to Tracy nthere must have been an accident around Sardinia, and wondered why Mt Orab was responding.

As I made the turn onto 68, here was a Ohio State Highway Patrol​ car, lights and sirens. I made my turn wide -- heavy traffic at the light at that time of day. The OSHP turned onto tri-county.
I told Tracy that maybe it was on a backroad off tri-county, because it didn't make sense that if it was on 32 they were all taking tri-county.

On the way home,  again decided to take tri-county at the last minute, but extra cautiously, because I knew something was going on along through there somehow. Even though we had frittered away some time,
if it was that bad, it would still be happening.

We heard on the radio that there was an accident that had 32 completely closed at 32 & Sardinia Mowrystown Rd, and air care was en route.  Past Steiman & tri-county, we could smell the accident.


To top that off, I just found out that my sister was the near victim of an accident way up on 125.

It was a good day to let the other senses do the driving.

(And eventually three helicopters were flown in to fly out accident victims -- of a two car crash. One car looked as if its top had been sheared off. That's all I know for now.)

Too Many Good-byes

There are too many people dying.

Do more people die in January (or January and February)  than other months, or does it just seem that way because we don't have fair-weather distractions?

Phyllis Walls was killed in a head-on collision on what I think was a familiar road. New Year's Day. What a great start to the New Year for her family, and fore her friends, even the long-ago-and-far-away ones. How horrible it is to have someone just not be there anymore. How horrible and how hard,

There has been another death, too, in my husband's family. Kevin Mullins. The husband of Rex's niece Eva, has passed away, and the whole family mourns yet again. They brought in the New Year in the hospital, with this horrific outcome. There have been too many deaths in this family in the last three to six months, and there are always too many deaths in the world.

A writer friend is sitting in a hospital waiting for her father to die. He went for one thing, developed another, and it has gone downhill from there. 

People should at least die from what's wrong with them, if they must die. (As we all must.)

It always seems to be wrong people who are dying, too. 

I don't mean the drug addicts, or even mass murderers, because I can understand that they may need extra chances to get it right,

I mean people with horrid diseases, slowly dying from the inside out.

I mean people who will never have independent lives again, and if they were in their right minds, would they want to live the dependent lives they are being forced to?

I even include people who are quietly soul starving, who live futile, desperate lives. Who perhaps want to "go home" or maybe they would only like to rest, for a really really long time.

Why can't these people be taken with such suddenness? Why is it the people with busy full lives who just disappear from the day-to-day of their families, their friends, their loved ones?

Well, life and love are mysteries, or so they say. 

Unsolved Mysteries.

Unfair Mysteries.

And it is only the 9th of January. 

Is "Snow Emergency" Legally Valid?

We're in the grip of our first snow emergency of the 2013-2014 winter. Winter Storm Cleon. With Dion already following closely.

Now, this isn't about what makes a snow emergency in any specific place. Minnesota and North Dakota would probably laugh at what Cincinnati calls an emergency.Maybe even at what they would call a significant snowfall.

But, the fact is, Cincinnati communities are calling snow emergencies of various levels.

Big whooping deal. It means, for the most part, that communities can write tickets and write off damage to cars parked on the streets.

They say not to go out unless absolutely necessary.
But who decides what is necessary?

I can tell you who does NOT decide.
Service industry workers. They have to go to work or lose their jobs.
The owners of various businesses don't care much if the police say don't go out.
The police don't care much, either. If you are driving slowly and carefully, they aren't likely to chase you down and possibly cause an accident, as well as keeping you both out when you could be getting in somewhere.
But the gas stations HAVE to stay open.
McDonald's MUST stay open.
Facilities such as hospitals and nursing homes, by their very nature, need to stay open. But must they insist on workers coming in in a "snow emergency"?
(I don't know what they could do instead. They should work up snow emergency protocols. Reduced staff, maybe sleep-breaks for people who will remain instead of go out I believe some hospitals do do that.)

Not only do these businesses insist on insisting, they punish those who don't risk life and limb to serve coffee to idiots. (Road personnel excepted from this category.) They write them up(disciplinary action); they brand them as unreliable; they reduce their hours; they even fire them.
They do not pay the fines for tickets received.
They do not pay for damages caused by an accident when their employees should never have been on the road in the first place.
They do not compensate for extra gas burned in longer, slower drives.
They don't pay hospital bills for slip and slide crashes.
They do NOT pay for funerals.

It's not just the service industry. There are factories with this same mindset. Never mind that their product is nonessential -- they have quotas that must be met, come hell or high water. (Hell or high snowdrifts?) The work must be done.

No mere employee can protest any of these disciplinary actions by pleading a snow emergency. The designation has no standing in labor law.

So, a "Snow Emergency" is a money maker for the municipality.
A "Snow Emergency" is an out for insurance companies, who will not pay (easily) for an accident caused when the driver wasn't supposed to be driving.
A "Snow Emergency" is no reason to not go out; thus says American Industry.

So, I ask you, why bother.
Why bother?

To the Motorcyclist

To the motorcyclist on Tri-County today: You were a joy to drive behind. You maintained a steady speed,  with no swerves and no sudden stops. You stayed in your lane. Not only did you stay in your lane, you stayed straightly in your lane, no riding from side to center and back again.

I have seen motorcyclists do all these 'fun' things. I understand the urge, but when I am the following driver, it worries me. When I am the approaching driver, it scares me.

There's been a lot of news stories about motorcycle accidents, and how to avoid them. There are Facebook and e-mail pleas to watch out for the motorcycles. It's good for drivers to be aware, but the cyclists themselves often take risks that don't have road safety in mind. Weaving from edge to centerline, making sudden turns or stops, speeding up and slowing down. Part of the freedom of riding, but unsettling to other drivers.

So you were a joy to follow today, from Mt. Orab to Sardinia, to Macon, where we parted ways.

And, after having followed you, when the road opened before you, and you met the challenge, your shirt billowed like a sail -- ah, then, I wished that I were you.

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.

Accidents in the News

Local stations are all streaming "Breaking News" of an accident in our area -- an accident that has had the coroner called to the scene. That's not something that happens much out this way, in the rural areas east of Cincinnati.

This news always makes me sit up and pay attention. It's unlikely to be anyone close to me. It could be someone I know. In all likelihood, the victims are known to someone I know, and I ache for their bad news, for their loss.

Even when it is not someone known, I hold my breath and wait to know the names. While I wait, I pray, I pray for the families of the victim -- and I pray that I am not a member of that family. I pray for survivors, and I pray that no one's recovery is impeded by guilt. I pray for those in traffic, and hope they do not have children waiting and wondering at home and alone for them. I pray for those who react and respond, and have to deal with the crumpled cars and flattened bodies and the mixtures of blood and oil and fuel.

When I hear of these accidents, I pray.
I pray hard.

This time, it may not affect me. I pray thanks for that, but I can't forget how the waiting for news feels. I know someone is getting that call, and I know they are hurting. I know someone close who got that call. I know others who have got that call.


I cannot help the unknown sufferers, and probably can't help even if I know them.
But I can pray for them, light a candle, send out comfort and loving.

When I hear of an accident, I pray.
Hard.