from the porches

fooled me

Did you really think swimming lessons were all about learning to swim?

No, they're not.

They're about two children tickling each other while they wait their turn.

Swimming lessons aren't always about learning to blow bubbles or learning to float on your back.  

They're sometimes about two children building a towel tent, crawling under, and giggling out loud.

Swimming lessons aren't always about learning how do the butterfly or the back stroke.  

They're sometimes about two children squealing, "You can't find us!"

Fooled me. 

 I thought swimming lessons were always about learning how to swim. 

It's funny how I learn something new everyday.

 
 
 

exhuberance

Today my mother went back to Dr. James Lynch, her Oncologist. 

 

To make a long story short, Mom is finished with chemotherapy and now has four weeks of radiation to undergo. 

Mom's new-found exhuberance about living was contagious.  A fourth year Intern listened to Mom elaborate and embellish her last five months.  Dr. Drew listened intently, smiled, read my blog, and  even rubbed my mother's head.

After waiting for almost two hours, Mom finally saw Dr. Lynch. He was pleased with her weight gain, attitude, and general well-being.

When we were ready to leave Mom told Dr. Lynch she just had to hug him.  Which she did.

Finally, I said, "Mom.  Let go.  Dr. Lynch has more patients to see."

Dr. Lynch is Mom's favorite doctor and Mom is Dr. Lynch's favorite patient (according to the conversation I overheard.)

Mom's exhuberance filled the doctor's office; but by the time we reached home, she was wasted. 

 
 

 

roses for the neighborhood

Tonight was very special for my mother.  We celebrated in High Springs at the Great Outdoors Restaurant.  She told me yesterday,  "Merry, I want to go to the Great Outdoors tomorrow night and eat steak."  And that is just what we did.  I couldn't eat a steak at 4:30 in the afternoon, so I ate a salad, but Mom's tenderloin steak will last her three days at least.

It was only a month ago when she proclaimed in sadness, "I'll never be able to eat a steak again."  But because of excellent doctors and treatments, she can eat anything put before her as long as it doesn't have pepper on it.

We also went to her house and Mom made her way to Joyce and Ray's, her neighbors to the right.  She chatted and hugged them and caught them up on her progress.  While there, Lil and John, her neighbors to the left of her house, came down and they rejoiced in her progress.

Lil drove mom Mom to the beauty shop during Mom's darkest hours before her diagnosis was made; and she would bring Mom Ensure to drink because my mother's mouth was too blistered up to eat. 

Lil has also come to my house to sit with Mom while she's been recuperating so that Truett and I could take Maddie and Oliver to swim lessons in Gainesville. 

 "Such good neighbors," Mom repeated over and over.  "Such good neighbors."

And then there is John H., a neighbor further up Mom's street.   Lil called the other day and said John H. wanted the keys to Mom's car so he could drive it ever so often around the neighborhood in order to keep the battery charged.  John H. is also going to wash her car free of pollen and service it for her.  

My sister, Susan, arrives from Germany April 24 and hopefully Susan will be able to take mom to Gainesville for radiation every day for a week in my mother's car.  Thanks, John H.

Of course I can't forget about Mark, another neighbor who mowed Mom's yard so her place would look lived in.  What a sweet gesture that was.  Thanks, Mark.

Rose and her daughter, April, live across the street from my mother and periodically they hurry across the street to hug Ms. Alice's neck.  They told me Mom's porch light bulb burned out and if it was okay with me they would like to put a new bulb in.  "Thank you so much," I said.  A burned out light bulb has been the furtherest thing from our minds.

 Last but not least, there's Bob.  Poor Bob.  His house is right next door to my mother's and on many occasions my mother would call Bob and say, "Bob.  I need you to come unclog my toilet."  Or "Bob, I don't know how to work this controller."  And dear Bob would go over and assist Ms. Alice.  Thanks, Bob.

"Such good neighbors," Mom repeats.  "I live in the best neighborhood ever.  It's nice to be loved by your neighborhood."

I agree, Mom.  How lucky you are! 
 
 
 
 

missing fingerprints

Tonight's post has nothing to do with my mom, wisteria, or thistle in any way.  Tonight's subject is about me having a lack of fingerprints.  So obviously, since I have no identifiable fingerprints, I cannot show you any pictures of something I don't have.

It all started a couple of months ago when I went to get my fingerprints taken at the High Springs Police Department.  Well, the officer took each finger on my hands and rolled them in the ink.  Then he pressed my fingers one-by-one onto a fingerprint card.

Meanwhile, Truett's prints weren't so good, so the Officer signed a piece of paper that basically said, "That's the best we can get."

But back to my story.  We mailed our fingerprint cards to Tallahassee and waited for several weeks to get our "carrying" permits.  (Yes.  I now own a pistol of my own. . .a Pink Lady).  A couple of weeks later I get a letter from the State of Florida saying my fingerprints were unreadable, illegible; and I needed to have them taken again.

Crap!  I hate going in police stations. Police officers are so official and powerful, especially when you're the driver of a vehicle and for probable cause they could pull you over, turn on those flashing blue lights, and humiliate you in front of God and everybody.  (It's only happened to me once, but I was speeding so he had probable cause).  But, I digress.

  
 I trudged back to the High Springs Police Department where another officer took my fingerprints.  Then he said, "Mam, do you work with your hands?

"Me?"  I asked.  "Never!"

"Well, mam.  You must have some kind of job that has destroyed your fingerprints.  What do you do?"

"Officer," I said.  "I am an elementary school teacher.  I have taught school for forty-six years."

"That's it!" he exclaimed.  "That many years of chalk dust has rubbed your fingerprints off!" 

 
"Well, if I don't have any fingerprints, then the lack thereof should be proof that those fingerprints are mine," I reasoned.

"It doesn't work that way, mam," he answered.  Then the officer added,  "I'll just fill out a card and you attach it to the fingerprint card and that should do it for you."

"Okay," I answered and walked out into the real world wondering why my lack of fingerprints couldn't just be my fingerprints."

Makes sense to me.

 

belated easter dinner

 

Today Truett, Mom, and I celebrated a late Easter holiday with Merry Jennifer, Sam, Madeline, Oliver and Clay.

It was not our traditional Easter dinner.  We had lasagna and salad; and it was superb. 

 Thank you, Truett.

 

One of the real reasons for our belated Easter celebration was for the grandchildren to find Easter eggs since they were at Disney World during Easter weekend.

Now that Oliver is three and one/half, sharing has become an issue.  In this photograph Madeline has generously shared two Easter eggs with Oliver and now Oliver has more; therefore, Madeline is trying to convince Sam that Oliver must share back.

I'm beginning persuasive writing with my fourth graders next week, so I am listening intently to her persuasive techniques...and of course, all eggs were distributed equally in the end. 

Way to go, Madeline.

It was a wonderful Sunday.  The last Sunday before I go back to work.

Mom is doing well and  we are doing well.

It was a wonderful belated Easter celebration.

 
 

the fox and the crow

In elementary school most of us read fables such as The Fox and the Crow.  

Well, I have a fox and a crow story for you today...a true story.

Mom and I were sitting on the front porch watching butterflies and American Goldfinches.  After awhile I told Mom I had to take a photograph of the goldfinches, even if it was from inside the screened porch.

So while I was taking pictures, a crow was causing a ruckus up my driveway.  Normally, I don't think twice about crows and all that squawking they do; but today, for some reason, I couldn't ignore it. The crow's pitch was different and sounded frantic.

Then Mom and I decided to go in the house, so we both stood up.  The crow was still cawing so I looked to the left up the driveway. 

And that's when I saw something brown.  Then the animal trotted toward the woods in front of my house.

I kept my eyes peeled to the edge of the woods.

And then a fox came out.

I watched this fox while the crow cawed and cawed, flying just above the head of the fox.

Then the fox headed down beside the studio and. . .

on toward our neighbor's property.

The moral to my story:  "Trust a crow's cawing"
  
 
 
 
 

  
  
 

courage

 Mom and I went to Shands Clinic this afternoon for her last Nulasta shot in the tummy.  This shot follows chemotherapy.  You should have seen Mom waving at attendants, nurses, even the cleaning lady pushing her cart.

"Good-bye y'all.  This is my last trip here," she announced. 

I cringed because we'll know for certain after radiation, which will probably be in several weeks.

Anyway, I told my mother she was very brave and we discussed how we knew nothing whatsoever about cancer, treatments, and side effects.  But we both agreed, "We do now!"  I apologized for dropping her at her front door after the first aggressive chemo treatment with its harrowing side effects. 

I remember saying," Good-bye, Mom.  I'll call you tomorrow."  And then she developed fevers and was hospitalized twice in February. 

But Mom and I both know now:  You don't drop off an old lady and drive away after an aggressive chemotherapy treatment.

On the way home today we stopped by her house and Mom actually went in and picked out summer clothes and three romance novels (with 5 stars drawn in them by Mom); and as I took her clothes to the car, I found this sign, face-down, in her grass.

Awww, a missing turtle.  I looked around the yard for the missing turtle named Courage, but didn't see it.  But then, maybe the sign was God's way of saying, "Courage is in Believing.  Courage is having Faith.  Courage is in all of us. . .especially, in an 86 year old woman named Alice."

Seriously, I hope the turtle named Courage is found because some little child will be so sad.
 

blessed

Tonight I told Mom, "I have to sit on the porches before dark." 

The finches have been here as well as the hummingbirds.

I am blessed.
 

someone asked

Someone asked, "What did you do today?" 

I think if I had been face to face with that person, that person could have read the dumbfounded look on my face.

"What did I do?"

 Well, let's see. . .

1. Mom and I went to High Springs to get her a manicure.

2.  I ran errands while she got a manicure. 

3.  I checked Mom's mail at the main post office in High Springs. 

I told them Mom had not received her census form and she wanted it.  "You know," I stated, "She was a census taker in the late '50's and it impacted her life.  AND. . .she wants to be counted." 

So I have a phone number to call to get my mother a 2010 census form.  As Mother says,  "It's important to be counted. How else will they know I exist!"

4.  Mom and I went to her house so I could get her some summer clothes.  That's where these lovely flower photographs were taken. 

Now this is a milestone for Mom.  She hasn't been there since early February.  

Her words, "Do you think I can sit on my front porch?"

Mine:  "Sure, Mom.  Come on, but be careful."

And she made her way to her front porch. 

"Oh, my little house!  My little house!" she exclaimed. 

 She didn't go in her little house, but I can tell you it is EXACTLY like it was in early February before the first traumatic chemotherapy. . . before the hospital visits.  I know because I looked at the newspapers piled high on the wicker table on her front porch.  Piled high because we did not know she wasn't going back to her house.

While we were there, a neighbor across the street rushed right over and shouted, "It's you, Ms. Alice!  I have to hug you!"  And Mom and the neighbor chatted for a few minutes while I gathered summer clothes for Ms. Alice.

5.  We then headed to Alice's Restaurant where we ordered beef tips and rice and two sides.  Mom ordered peach cobbler for one of her sides; and I have to admit, that was her supper tonight. 

6.  Then we headed to Winn-Dixie.  Mom said, "I think I'm ready to go in now since I have hair."

Don't you dare laugh.  Mom told me later, "I could feel it blowing in the breeze." 

She got lots of hugs in Winn Dixie.  "I've missed you, Ms. Alice.  Where have you been?" they asked.  Her answer, "I've been sick."

7.  Finally, to end our day, Mom and I watched Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds from the porches!  My porches!

So, to the someone who asked, "What did you do today?",  I have an answer.

"Mom and I experienced firsts; and how was your day?."
 
 

 

 

another day

Sometimes it feels good to be sheltered at work from the real world of incompetence.  Truett and I spent all day long running errands in Gainesville.

1.  Communicom  had their hours posted, which we misread; therefore, I have to go back another day, but not tomorrow because they don't open on Tuesdays.

2.  We went to Books- a - Million and put our books on the counter, only to find out that the latest C.J.Box mystery will not be released until tomorrow; therefore, I have to go back another day.  So I want to know why they had it on the shelves. . .and so does the store manager.

3.  We went to Lowes to pick out flowers for the flower beds and they didn't have the red color I wanted, so we had to make another stop.

Yikes!  We spun our wheels every which way we turned.  I don't know how I get things done when it's not Spring Break, but I do.