Amidst the Mists, pt 1 of Part 3

    He was sweating again, and gasping, and he was in a hot place. He

hoped he hadn’t died yet, as that was a bad sign if he was, when

suddenly sound was all around him, as overwhelming as the heat.

       Maybe not though, as the heat felt and smelled steamy rather than ashy.

They probably didn’t have water to make steam in the bad place. Unless

somebody was melting a snowball? (What did that mean?)

    Voices, and people were moving around. A mix of male and female voices,

as well as children’s voices more distant. He knew the voices, and was

satisfied they were NOT dead people, so he must not be either.

That was a good thing. 

Maybe?

    He tried to take in a deep breath, but somehow choked on it,

and, good lord did it hurt! Breathing wasn’t supposed to hurt

living people, although sometimes it did.

If they were sick or something.

He stopped choking and managed a swallow of air that (still) left him panting. 

At the sound of the breath, the voices rose, and congregated closer to him,

speaking quickly to one another and doing things to him, although he was

unsure of what they were doing.

    Whatever it was they were doing, it did ease the squeeze from breathing

and his breaths were not so loud and raspy now.

    The panic over breathing calmed, and he began to make more sense

(if one could call it that) of his situation.  He was lying on his back, propped

up on pillows. He was covered with at least two quilts or blankets. (They weren’t

effective.Despite the hot and humid room, he was cold, cold, cold.) He wished he could put his arms and hands under the covers and pull them up around his neck, if not over his head. 

    He thought the thoughts, but nothing changed. His arms and hands were still

lying beside him on the outside of the covers. How very strange that they weren’t

doing anything. 

He managed one deep breath. That was better. 

    There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Some medicine they had given him?

The taste was familiar, although he couldn’t name it. Probably something he

had given others when his plants and concoctions had been the only

medicines available. 

That was a long time ago. He’d lost interest after Mark was killed, plus they’d

had a doctor by then, for all the good she’d done. 

Aha! That was one of the voices. The lady doctor. She was probably the one

who kept picking up his hand by the wrist and holding it for short minutes

at a time.

“His hands are so cold,” the other female voice said. She was sitting on the

bed (?) next to him, holding his other hand, fingers entwined. 

He liked that. He liked the holding, and he liked that her hands holding his

were warm. Her voice was warm, too, and worried. 

She shouldn’t be worrying about things right now. 

Actually, she shouldn’t be worrying about anything. Didn’t he take care of

everything for her? For her and – and what? Or who?

    He struggled to hold onto the thought, but it slipped away from him,

like the vapors filling the air.

Descent of Summer

 It's been a strange day today.

I woke up, fully rested and restless, at 6 am. That's usually the time of deepest sleep for me. Washed dishes, changed garbage bags, carried garbage out, pulled some weeds in flower beds. Then I sat on my porch for a while, watching and listening to the birds and bugs (and the cars and children across the street at the day care) and breathing in the lightening scent of the new day. Smells like good clean growth.

I seem to have something in my eyes, although I've rinsed and washed and flushed it out. Time for the allergy pills, I guess. Kind of tired of my eyes crying without the essential me involved in the act!

Did take a couple-hour nap about noon to two, then here I am, headache, yawns, crying eyes and all. Watching tv, working puzzles, reading, and writing, among other things. 

The big H is back. On the weather maps, that is. The big H for heat, humidity, and headache. Ha Ha. 

In other words: Summertime. "Roll out the barrel" and all that fun stuff.  Commercials for Memorial Day "buy a bed" sales. Couches and recliners will be next. Maybe cars, but they may wait until Flag Day or the 4th of July for that. 

It does bother me that most of our patriotic observances are devoted commercially to selling the big ticket personal items. I've written about that before, and most likely will again. 

The air conditioner is on, and running constantly. It's not set that low. 

Last week we were having frost advisories. 

Summer has descended upon us, like a plague of --

CICADAS. 

Because, yes, that's happening, too.

Welcome to my weather.

Cooling Off

Cooling off seems to be the trend this week, after an uncomfortable start.

The weather started out hot and humid; a mini heat wave, the forecasters called it. We had two days with heat alerts or some sort of weather warning. Hot and humid making the 'humiture' three digits. It was nasty out, that's for sure. I usually open Rex's door for a couple hours every day, but not this week. We kept the door closed and that nasty stuff outside. We even turned his air conditioner up on high a time or two. At night, we could turn it on low fan.
Tomorrow we could be flirting with some light scattered frost notices, although nothing of the sort has been mentioned as yet. I just won'e be surprised if it happens. Two heat alerts and a frost advisory all in  the same week.
Yes, it must be September here in Ohio.

I had some disturbing mail earlier in the week -- see the previous blog entry. That, too, cooled off, and very nicely, too. Seems it was all a tempest in a teacup. One of those not-quite-AI-computers applied and rejected Rex for a program that the humans never applied him for, because he didn't qualify. I'm not sure why he doesn't, but since we've never had it, it's okay.
Makes me curious, but it's okay.
All that took was a phone call.

Tracy finalized her surgery dates; I got approval to get the medical tests I need; and Tammy got Hailey's birth certificate and turned it in to the school.

Done, and done, and done.
A satisfactory end to the week, and a reason to not dread the coming week. That's a good deal, any day.

Welcome the Weather, Whatever it is.

Finally, a break in the weather. Like all good things, it didn't come without a price. Parts of our northern 'Border Country' was torn apart with severe storms. Lots of wind damages, lots of uprooted trees, property damage. This was all in a part of the country where this type of storm is a little unusual.

But, oh the pay off! Lower humidity, softer air. And, the rest of us are beginning to feel that same relief, as if our weather-break is trailing in the skirts of theirs.

Today, here in Winchester, Ohio, it has been raining all day. Nice, gentle, cleansing, healing rain. There are flash flood watches and occasional storm warning, but for the most part our transition has been fairly nonviolent.
That's a good way to be.

The heat and humidity will return. It's still July, and there's August to be lived through, and the first few days after Labor Day. It would be odd to not have a week or so of hot-and-humid after back-to-school and Back-to-school -after-the-first-holiday.

I like the rain.
If Hailey were here, she'd be liking the rain.
She'd even be allowed to go out in this rain. Pappaw doesn't let her out when it's storming. She doesn't like that.

People are always complaining about the weather. If it's raining, they want sun. When the sun is shining, it's too hot. When it's hot they want cold. When it's cold they want snow. When it snows they want the roads cleared and cleaned and wish for the hot and humid summer.

We'd change things if we could, and once we have it, we start wishing it was what it was earlier (in the year, season, month, week, day).
We need to take the time to enjoy the weather we have while we have it. It's going to change soon enough, and we are very lucky if it changes without upheaval and terror.
Let's be happy with what we get.
After all, it could just -- blow away.

I'm as bad as others. We all are. We all think we wish for prescribed weather, for perfect weather. The problem with that is --

We can't even agree on perfect weather!

Some DO like it hot!

Soothing Saturday.

What a day this should be. It's cooled off outside -- I'm actually wearing a sweater. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, with fluffy white clouds. There's food in the fridge and the cabinets, and there's a busy little girl with her colors sprawled on my living room floor. She's the sunshine inside the house.

It's been a busy week, and a fairly normal one, I'd guess. A mixture of good and bad, a look at some beginnings and some endings. Scary stuff sometimes, those glimpses into the future.

The most fabulous and the most  frightening was Hailey's birthday party. She turned 4, and such a big girl. She had an "Urel' (Ariel) cake, with Sponge Bob and 'Packrit' added to it -- don't tell Disney, they'll sue us. She had a lot of grown up family there, and the one cousin that we can provide her. He's nearly twice her age at this point. She has another cousin, on the other side, but she's too little as yet for celebrating at a party. Hailey would have been glad to see her, though. She fell in love with that baby while they stayed at Hailey's house.Hailey is definitely wishing for a sibling. (What does a 4 year old know?)

Tam had thoughtfully had the party at a facility so her dad could attend. The August weather, in a good year, is hard for him to take. This year, with all the heat and humidity, it's been impossible.


And it very nearly killed him. Not from attending the party, but by leaving. We opened the door to the parking lot, and the parking lot had been baking in the sun all day and especially all evening while we were inside. It took his breath away.

I am being very literal, and I am not exaggerating. Sheer willpower kept that man on his feet to the car and once in the car, barking like a seal, he used his rescue inhaler and gestured for me to just DRIVE! I wanted to drive to the closest hospital, but he just kept waving for me to drive -- get the air moving, that's what he wanted.

It worked. After a couple miles, we pulled over and I hooked him up to his portable oxygen tank and he made it home and hasn't had too much trouble since, but it was a frightening portent of things to come.


A sad commentary on things that are, as well. We had been talking a bit about taking a trip in September or October. A weekend trip, one day going, one day coming back. We had discussed who might go with us (as alternate drivers), how he could use his nebulizer on the road, costs, etc. The nebulizer, we thought, would be the big issue.

It's not. He may have saved his travels "Later" until they've become "Too late." But that's okay.

I'll enjoy him as he is -- that's the best way to love anyone. I'll enjoy him, and our daughters, and our granddaughter and any siblings-for-her that will someday make an appearance.


To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose... .
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance...
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;


For now we choose to laugh, and dance (metaphorically speaking), and we both speak and keep silence together. The time will come for the other stuff, but for now --


For now,  we DANCE.

Summer Family Fun.

Today, my sisters are going to a family reunion. It will be the first Schmidt family reunion since my dad died. (I think. I could be wrong about that.) It will be odd  to have his family there and he is gone, but life is a winnowing out process, and the sad truth is he wasn't the first to go.

We have lovely weather for the event today. The heat has backed off, the storms that reduced it to cowardice have moved on to vanquish elsewhere. The sun is shining, skies are blue with puffy white clouds. There will be trees and a lake and restrooms and paths and picnic tables and a playground.

A perfect day for a family to reconnect, however briefly.

It grieves me that I won't be there. I love some of my father's sisters, even though I haven't been around them for years. I love them although I know little of their lives and they know less of mine.

Saturday we will be having another family party. This one I'll be able to attend. This one I will attend. Good lord willing and the creek don't rise -- an apt qualification in this case, since the party is being held near Red Oak Creek in Ripley.

I'll see people there that I know, know of, and maybe a couple that I don't know. New victims to observe, new cadences to hear. All within the safety of a family network, and of course an easy exit in case of overwhelming anxiety.

First week of August is busy with birthdays in this family -- thank goodness they aren't all celebrated individually with parties. A person would be constantly on the run (although birthday parties would be more pleasant running than doctor's visits, hospital tests and trying to get prescriptions filled.)

There are fairs, too, and church festivals. It's my firm belief that the only reason it rained three days this week is because Adams County Fair was in progress. It will rain three days the last week of September, when Brown County Fair is in progress. That's just how it works in this part of the country.

Summer is a good time to catch up with everyone. The hard part is catching up with yourself and your own.
Having family is important, having fun is important too.

Having you is important to me.

Have fun and take care. 

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.

snow 'storm' -- yeah, right

We are in the midst of our first winter storm. From the forecasts, it's got the potential to be nasty. A day of heavy rain, changing over to snow, then plummeting temperatures, rising winds, and more snow. Up to 7 inches in places is what they are saying now.

I know this isn't a lot for many places. People in this area like to feel superior because Atlanta and Charleston close down for an inch or two. You'd think they would figure that that Chicagoans and Canadians sneer at them in the same manner -- and justifiably so.

No matter where you are, this sounds like a bad sequence of events. I'm going to be ready for ice on the power lines and the wind whipping them around. I took it upon myself to warn facebook friends and family who are local to get alternate heat. Even if they don't need it this time, at least they'll have it.

Makes me wonder, though. How do places like Buffalo and Chicago and points north not have problems with power outages?
clearing roads and keeping businesses open -- a lot of that is just better systems and better products. Spraying roads with an antifreeze solution for one thing. That's not cost effective here., although it is occasionally tried and used.

Is it possible that  these snow cities have a more laid back attitude? Here, the counties and townships have to post snow emergencies and tell people they aren't allowed to drive, and then peopled do anyway, because they'll get fired if they don't come to work. Do the snow cities have a greater tolerance for snow days for adults? Or are adults just more prepared for the weather because it is the norm?

How do they avoid the sometimes days-long power outages that we have here? Or do they as a rule 'just' prepare for that, too?  Do most homes have an alternate heat  source? Or a non-electric dependent furnace?

I'd like to know, so I can be more prepared myself. So I can help others be more prepared.

As it is, if you have problems, but can get out, my door is always open to anyone in need. We will have food and heat, if we need back ups, and you are all welcome here.

(written Saturday December 11)