Nature Songs ~~~~

February 14, 2001 - Happy Valentine’s Day! I have a dear water workout friend whom I wish to have a happy day, but I know what she is experiencing today. This is the first day after her very first knee replacement and the next little while will be rough for her. I can only hope and pray that she realizes what joy she will experience in the very near future. I shall wait a few days before going to the hospital to visit with her. She likes to use her computer at home, but I doubt if she has a laptop to use at the hospital to help the time pass quicker and keep her mind off her knee. She has bunches of friends that will no doubt visit with her often.

I finished up my writing assignment early this week so I could post it and hopefully get some feedback on my writing skills. I got a little bravery Monday and asked if any of the others would like to work along with me for this session. In only a little time I had two replies. My last experience left me disappointed because I had very little feedback on my work. I finished the course wondering how I had done and what I needed to do to improve my style and techniques. Hopefully this class will be different.

We had to write a short description of something we do regularly for our assignment this week and then rewrite it using a more descriptive usage of words, making it come alive. OOPS! I just took time to look at the directions again. I goofed! The goal is to use only 150 words total. I’ve used many more than that. Here is what I now have:

After a trip to the foot doctor for treatment of a painful foot, I was sent in search of inserts for my shoes. There is to be no more going barefoot through the house from now on. That proved to be a little harder to endure than first thought, thanks to my two puppies.

Rewrite:
A referral jaunt to the podiatrist office in town to discover the basis of some major discomfort and pain in my right foot was soon turning my mundane lifestyle topsy-turvy. Going in search of a pair of specific inserts for my shoes in drugstores in the vicinity proved fruitless. I turned to my computer to do my shopping and within a few days my new inserts arrived. Life at home was changed the instant my shoes were fitted with the new-fangled articles of necessity.

Charlie, the Yorkie, and Oreo, the Papillon, take seriously their task of keeping me in tow at all times. They have their own special language to relay my movements to each other. A quick peek of me putting on shoes, and Charlie was off to bring Oreo back to the bedroom with him. They learned quickly when shoes are placed upon my usually unshod feet I am leaving them home alone. The yapping, whining, jumping, short yips and jumping with excitement began, but I was not leaving. For the duration of the day and in addition much of those that follow, every time my leather coated feet touched the floor, they would jump into a much practiced obsession of begging me not to leave them home alone.

Now back to the drawing board to rewrite another time or two to get it down to the correct length. I like the challenge being placed on us with our writing and knowing the limits I am to stay within.

Here it is exactly 150 words!

A doctor treated me saying I needed shoe inserts. I also have to wear shoes all the time, which was hard with my puppies around.

A referral to the podiatrist to discover the basis of annoying pain in my foot turned my mundane lifestyle topsy-turvy. Searching for specific shoe inserts in the vicinity proved fruitless but I located some on the computer. When they arrived, life at home changed the instant my shoes, fitted with the new-fangled articles of necessity were on my feet. Charlie and Oreo take seriously their devoted watch over me; a glimpse of me wearing shoes, Charlie’s off fetching Oreo. They discovered shoes upon my usually unshod feet means I’m leaving. They excitedly yap and jump, but I’m not leaving. For the duration of several days every time my leather-coated feet touch ground, the much practiced obsession begins, begging me not to leave them home alone.

Now to get busy on the Memoir assignment which is going to be harder for me to accomplish. It is on something painful that happened to me at some point in my life. Painful things are more difficult to face up to.

February 15, 2001 - Surprisingly, I have checked in on all the bullentin boards for my three classes and pretty much caught up on the assignments. I am lagging behind on writing about something painful from the past, I shall have to put pen to hand and start jotting down things. I’m tempted to look back in the journal and find where I wrote about something.

I notice since there are other things to record and place emphasis on, that as par for course for me, I’m pushing back some of the reason for writing this journal - putting into words, how I feel about how I am doing physically. It is much easier for me to act as if it weren’t a problem and proceed. However, there is a giant problem. I took to heart what the doctor was telling me about needing to do stretching exercises to strengthen my leg and foot muscles. I noted that I worked out five days a week and that my right leg gets the same workout as the left. I left his office feeling as if he didn’t believe I was really trying.

I tried a little harder. In the process I pulled a major muscle in my back! Ouch, this is the third day now and I still am having trouble straightening up to walk and do a few things. I’m doing my morning workouts in the hope that I can work through some of the problem, but so far it hasn’t worked. Mother of course, does not understand my need to be less active at home in hopes of improving the problem. I’ve told very few that I’m in misery. What could they do about it... Pain Clinic always stressed act as if everything is okay, so I do. It’s not okay, the muscle is very intent on having it’s own way and keeps sending me jabs of reminders.

Already, I’ve rewrote my paragraph after learning some errors needed to be corrected. In the process, I brought my word count down to below 140! When I began writing I didn’t believe I could condense what I wrote, but the more I studied and experimented, there was much more description of unneeded information to drop. I shall leave it at this and move on to other things.

The podiatrist’s uncomplicated solution for correcting an annoying foot pain plaguing my shortest gallivanting sprees turned my mundane lifestyle topsy-turvy. A neighborhood rummage proved fruitless and I was forced to seek Cyber help locating specific shoe inserts. When they arrived, life at home was modified the instant my shoes, fitted with the new-fangled articles of necessity were supporting my feet. Charlie and Oreo have taken seriously their devoted watch over me and the first glimpse of me sporting shoes, Charlie was off to fetch Oreo. They had discovered shoes upon my usually unshod feet signal I’m leaving. On cue, they excitedly yapped and jumped, however for a change, I wasn’t leaving. For the duration of several days every time my leather-coated feet touched ground, the much practiced obsession began, begging me not to leave them home alone.

February 16, 2001 - Wheee ... ! One of T-H-O-S-E type days would be the best description of events of today.

Knowing that I promised to meet one of Mother’s nurses at Quest this morning and show her the ropes didn’t keep me from dragging my feet. Getting out of bed seemed a little harder than usual. Could be my back bothers me a bit more than I care to admit. Could be Ms. Jay didn’t call this morning since she is helping one of her son’s to move into his first “own” home. Could be called laziness. Could be a need for more sleep. Could be procrastination! I made it into the valley on time, but had to munch one of those breakfast bars for needed energy and nourishment as I drove the foggy, curvy road.

I left my collection of loose change which I’d separated and put in those rolled sleeves for Allan to carry to the bank for me this morning. He had come by and picked them up while I was working out at Quest. Since I make a practice not trying to use change when I am shopping, I refer to this as my “Mad Money” and use it for fun projects or trips. This time I collected it together to help pay for a metal carport. He was ordering me one today so I would be able to put my truck under it.

Back home and I decide to check my e-mail before I rest a spell. What else? For one of those eerieiest of strange events the computer is messed up. It worked up to par last night when I used it. Today, my Norton Anti-Virus program is missing and I have to keep pounding “any key” to keep things working until the computer finally completes it initial work turning itself on. I follow the suggestion for reinstalling the program to no avail. Somewhere after fifty or so - who’s counting anyway - by evening I have to admit defeat and give up searching for answers for why such and such doesn’t work. Reinstalling the program twice during the day was not successful.

During working with the computer there was time out to go over to the center to play Bingo with Mother. This was one of her luckier days as she was first to win on two games and the last game for fifty cents was hers as well. We stopped by the living room to visit the parakeets which I’m trying to make a habit for her. She is warming up to the birds and talking a little more to them, but only agrees to see them twice a week on the way back to her room from playing Bingo.

OOPS! That *#*%#* computer (I’ve always wanted to make those weird symbols!) almost made me late for meeting Tbird to pick up the children. She and hubby had an appointment and after it were going out to eat while I kept the children. The vote for pizza won out for the choice for supper, so off to the pizza store to order. We got the pick-up special and sat in the car as the order was being baked. What a pleasant surprise when the worker came out the door to deliver the two pizza’s to the car to us. Yes, some places DO have considerate and pleasant people willing to go that extra mile. I was impressed.

Working with the computer was slowed down a bit as the evening wore on and two more grandchildren joined as when Wes and Wendy decided to go out to eat. I agreed to keep the boys. This was probably the easiest watching children I’ve done in a while. Giggles and BusyBoy entertained each other while BingoKid held the attention of his other cousins with his hand-held Pokemon game.

Day’s end found me still in a quandary about the computer, talking to Tbird on the phone (she received a notice in the mail today to show up in Asheville the first of April for Federal Jury Duty - a three week stint at that!) who was not a happy camper. BingoKid had given up working with his game and had already gone to bed since he decided to spend another night with me.

February 17, 2001 - New approach with the computer this morning bright and early. I decide to go through and delete all the Norton AntiVirus before attempting to try downloading it again. This works and with much patience, the new program is updated and installed, working as it should. Running scan disk, sixty-seven errors are found. All but five are corrected by the computer. Those five I had to identify and correct myself. Turns out they were all traced back to one game which NascarKid had done. No, it was not anything new, so I still don’t know why Norton messed up.

BuddyBoy and Allan were chased out of the house this morning while Mom did some earnest housecleaning and spent the time here with me. BuddyBoy enjoyed having BingoKid here, but he demanded much of Dad’s attention as well. I spent my own time between them and the computer as I ran different programs getting things working properly. Later in the afternoon BusyKid came over to join big brother while their parents took a quick trip to Charlotte. Once again pizza was the food of choice by these boys for supper.

We stopped to order at Little Ceasars this time as I was on my way to the drugstore to replenish my private drug stash. They had sodas on special and I picked up BingoKid’s favorite at the drugstore. I only had a twenty dollar bill in my handbag when we left home. Back at the pizza store when I start to give BingoKid the money to pay for the pizza, I had a surprise! When I reached in my bag to get the money out which I had hurriedly stuffed inside, there was only seven dollars. Uh-oh! We had to back out of our parking space and drive back to the drugstore. The cashier had shorted my ten dollars. One of those few times I don’t check my change and look what happens.... Again, the girl was really extra nice about giving us our money when I went back into the drugstore.

Hot pizzas in hand, we headed over to share some pizza and time with Mother. I took her walker back to her. Seems the therapist has decided to walk Mother some each day and Mother thinks her walker is better than any that the center has to offer. (Wonder how long this will last and if Mother will keep her promise to only use the walker with the aid of the workers at the center.) I have to wonder about the validity of such an attempt on their part, since Mother has the drop foot, a bad back, no depth of vision with only one eye and has not walked any in ages and a day. Sporadic trial and error over years is an ineffectual means for maintaining one’s one ability to retain facilities of that magnitude.

When Wes and Wendy get back, it is the oldest son they find asleep and the three-year-old is still busy being busy as he keeps hunting Oreo and running him out of all his favorite hiding spots. After all, BusyKid is just that - a very busy kid.

February 18, 2001 - Sunday and off to meet at McD’s for breakfast as usual. Looking back, it is a scary thought to think that I had enough know-how to spend two days working on the computer and I FIXED IT!<, all by myself. There was no need to call in for reinforcement. Maybe I have turned into a computer nerd! On the other hand I have made no improvements with the back trouble I caused to happen to me Tuesday. Sitting through church was not a time for quiet repose and reflecting. Those sitting behind me must have wondered what I had turned into today. Sitting still was impossible! I caught myself constantly in movement, wiggling from one posture to another in search of a comfort zone which happened to stay just out of reach.

From church I drove back into Lenoir and spent time with my friend that had the new knee installed last Tuesday. She is in Restorative Care, but has some problems with running a fever which is hindering her somewhat. Her surgery was over two hours long and the hip problem was a hindrance for the doctor throughout the surgery since he could not straighten out her leg completely. She is able to use the passive bending machine for working her knee and does not have to sport an immobilizer which is so different from my own experiences. Muscle and tendon repairs required me to use the immobilizes for six to eight weeks for walking around..

Around six I managed to make the trip to spend some time with Mother. While there we received the news that rocked the sports world. Dale Earnhardt had been injured in the Daytona 500 Race. The last lap of the race that begins the new season and the impossible happens. He is running third behind his son and another of his team and it happens. A wreck that didn’t appear to be as bad as an earlier crash occurs. He has been rumored to be the one this year that has the power to come in first for the year with winnings.

Strangely, as I was walking down the hall, all the televisions which are usually muted were turned up as if the residents could not hear well. The news was coming simultaneously throughout the center: Dale Earnhardt, the Intimidator, was dead at age 49. The King of Racing was dead. For our neck of the woods that is major news. This is the area that Stockcar Racing was born. This neck of the woods is where he was born and got his start in racing. Mooresville, NC, is where he had only recently opened up his new multimillion dollar sportscar complex for his team. Stunned disbelief spreads like wildfire.

February 19, 2001 - The day has been dedicated to the memory of Dale Earnhardt. Thousands of people have gathered around areas closest to them that hold memories of The Intimidator and life at its best. Flowers, notes, letters, poems, candles, balloons, Nascar items and pictures have amassed around each of the sites. Lines have formed in Concord, NC, as people silently stand waiting for a turn to sign two giant cards to be presented to the Earnhardt family. Words don’t come easy when folks try to put into words the loss felt. Most simply put, “There’s a big black hole inside that can’t be filled. There are a whole lot of people hurting.” North Carolina morns the loss of a native son that rates right up there at the top along with Elvis and his Music Fans.

I can relate back to his earliest years of racing. He began Stockcar Racing at the age of fifteen. He had no driver’s license and could barely see over the huge steering wheel. The racetracks were dirt ... red dirt. One has to be there to feel and experience the red dust that settles on everything and everyone anywhere near the racing cars. The taste and smell are undeniable as the track dries out more and more, making the dust so thick one can barely seen through the boiling red clouds blowing along behind the speeding cars. These are cars without the benefit of deadening any of the sounds emitted along with the dust. To speak was to yell at the top of your voice to be heard by someone sitting beside you.

These first cars used in racing were true Stockcar, that had been built for the purpose of outrunning the law on the curvy, mountainous roads. North Carolina was known for running illegal moonshine made back in the mountains hidden from view of the average families. The very first racing was done on these back roads as the car owners made bets about who’s car could outrun the other’s car. The name of the game was being able to outrun the law in the beginning. Some drivers would get in an open field somewhere and drag race and soon the dirt track was made. Nothing fancy; just a place to race and see who truly had built or modified a car or truck that ran faster than anyone else.

I used to sit on the wooden bleachers that shook and swayed with jumpers and whoopee’s egging on their favorite car and driver . While they watched, I was busy keeping my eye on one of the racing cars. Each time it passed my spot on the bleacher, my job was to make a mark and keep count of the laps run. As the dust deepened on the cars and the numbers became partially hidden the job was made more difficult. Often a water truck was used to wet down the track during a break in the action, but very few trips around with speeding cars and the dust boiled up thicker than ever. Needless to add, but by the time I got home late at night, I was more red than any other color and headed in to take a good bath from head to toe before going to bed.

NASCAR has come a long way from its humble beginning. Sunday it lost a member of a founding family - a very much loved member. Now to watch and see if the number 3 which Dale Earnhardt’s father once drove will be retired as someone has mentioned, or will it be handed down to his son to carry on the legacy of racing.

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