Back from the Hospital

My wonderful wife came home from the hospital a week ago. Thank you, Lord!

This intervening week has been a whirlwind of emotions and ‘stuff to get done’. I’m so glad to have her back; she was there for ten days.

But what put her there was an interactive combination of two things – her Congestive Heart Failure, and acute diverticulitis. The infection in her bowel made her weaker and weaker; it occurred and then worsened over a long period of time, quietly taking all her energy and thus the ability to do even the smallest things. The infection made her CHF worse, which in turn made the infection worse… but the symptoms came on so slowly and gradually that we just… did… not… notice.

What is less understood by many is that with CHF, you have to watch your weight closely – weighing every day. A sudden rise of two pounds overnight is cause for concern. And necessitates a temporary upward kick in the diuretics. So why is the water weight of concern? Because it is accumulated in the lungs, interfering with the ability to oxygenate blood. And thereby slowly suffocating the patient.

Meanwhile we are thankful that she’s better. She’s very slowly regaining strength in her legs, and is gradually doing a little bit more to help her conditioning every day.

We both thank everyone for their kind thoughts and prayers.

And we are so thankful for friends and church members who have brought by dinners, soup, and just been there for encouragement. Such things are heartening, both for their nourishment, and for lightening my load in caring.

Going forward, I’ve been seeing that smart-home items are actually improving, instead of just gaining ‘bling’ factor. I’ve invested in three items that will help: a video doorbell that has two-way audio (so she can talk to whomever might be at the door, from wherever in the house that she might be); an electronic deadbolt (so she can unlock the door for visitors and home-care folks); and an Amazon Echo (to interact with and control the two previous items). I hope to end the weekend with these all installed and working well.

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Winter Alpenglow

Time for a bit of poetry – it’s been a while.

It is a fleeting moment
between sunset and the hard blue
oppression of the dying day
and twilight’s cold approach,
fading into the reality of Night.

The ocean of air in which we as people of God’s Creation live
breaks relentlessly against the shores
of the mountain
upon whose side I live.

The background rumble
is a reminder of how small I am;
each roaring crash of a wind gust
is a reminder of how alive I am.

I am thankful for
warm clothes
a place to sit, rest my knees, and to behold all this;
as if it were the first time I had ever lived it;
and a warm, snug house in which to retreat
and the warm embrace of my loving wife
for when the cold becomes too much for me.

My sweet dog-companion is hippety-hop with delight,
she having had plenty of time for sniffabout,
and ready to give up her guard duty over me
for the comfort of a nice, warm bed.

Inside, looking out,
I cannot help but marvel
at this wonderful place in which
we are so fortunate to live, laugh, and love.

 Thank you Lord, for the privilege of living here. Thank you for looking after us, in this place of wildness.

Well how about that! A White Christmas!

In my more than sixty years, only twice have I seen a White Christmas.

Until now.

This is only the third time I have seen a White Christmas. (I had to grab this shot from the home office window – everything else is iced over.)

Living here in the Pacific Northwest, our weather is some of the most unpredictable – and changeable – in the world. We have a unique position between the ocean and tall mountains, which makes for unstable weather.

Yesterday, I would not have believed that this cold would stick around long enough to keep snow on the ground for this morning. I had gone down into town and it was nearly 40 degrees, the sun was shining, and the ground was dry! Not even a hint of the rough conditions up here on the side of the mountain.

But we live on the snow line. And that just got proven once again.

Last night, I couldn’t even go out. And I can stand some pretty severe stuff. But… The wind was gusting past 30 knots, and driving snow before it. It was the kind of stuff that stings the skin and wants to get in your eyes. Temperature was in the mid-20s, making for a wind chill in the low to mid teens.

I went into the sunroom to try to grab a shot of the conditions, which would be considered a blizzard, had the snow been falling at a higher rate. As it was, the snow is powder and is being picked up and drifted by the wind:

Just a few moments after I grabbed this shot, the rattle of freezing rain began to sound against the windows. I knew that by morning, it would be treacherous to walk out there.

But this morning, we have a warm house, the makings for a nice Christmas breakfast, and warm hearts for each other. A roast is curing in the garage fridge for dinner tonight. Dara snoozes happily on the bed.

We take time to pause and remember the coming of the Light of the World, Everlasting Saviour, Prince of Peace.

And to marvel.

A White Christmas! How about that.

So, No Pictures of Wooly-Bear Caterpillars?

Oddly enough, I haven’t seen any, so far this year.

By this time last year, they were everywhere, and their amber stripe was hugely wide.

And we had an absolute howler of a winter. Icy, cold, stuck in the house for days… Let’s please, not do that again for a while, okay, Lord?

But so far this year, no signs of wooly-bears. Instead, may I offer this snapshot of the Ridge and The River Of Clouds at sunset:

Watching The River Of Clouds never fails to give me a sense of awe. It’s almost like when you were a kid, drawing your finger through the top quarter-inch of your bathwater, watching the ripples it made. I often wonder if God has that same sense of wonder at what he does…

It’s technically warmer outside, but the cool temperatures, combined with near 100% humidity, work together to give a penetrating chill.

I’ll finish my reading inside tonight.

And I wish you a good week for this upcoming week; and may God bless the works of our hands.

God’s Timing is Perfect, Especially When Mine Isn’t

I had a rather scary incident last Thursday. It reminded me of my mortality and my fragility in some physical areas.

As you already know, now is the time of blasting winter winds up here on the side of the mountain, the roaring and commotion unceasing for weeks. Our winds lately have been averaging 15 knots, with gusts up to 40 knots. At our current temperatures, this results in wind-chill numbers of the low twenties to single-digits.

Back to the story: I’d been working late on Trash Day, so when I got to our little country lane, it was long, long, after dark. I pulled my flashlight from my pocket, expecting to find the garbage can blown to one of its usual places.

Not so.

It was nearly a hundred feet away, clear across the busy main road, in the neighbor’s ditch. But at least it was at the top of the ditch, down just a bit from the edge, and hung up on a bush. Normally on rough ground like this, I take a walking-stick of some sort. But I judged that I wouldn’t need it for this job.

I was wrong.

As soon as I stepped over the edge of the ditch, things started to go wrong. I had to take a number of steps downward to keep from falling and impaling myself on the broken branches of trees and bushes in the ditch.
(A bit of background: The County comes along in the summers to clean ditches, and their current method is to use a chain-flail mower on an articulating arm to smash trees and bushes down – oh, but not to ground level, but somewhere just good enough, above.)

I managed to get turned around and got the can in one hand to steady myself. But it was going to be really hard to get out of that ditch without falling. There was nothing to grab onto, no way of getting real purchase. I could take short steps and was at least moving in the right direction; but boy, my old knees were complaining.

It was at this point that I prayed aloud for God to help me; I wasn’t going to get out of that ditch easily.

Suddenly out of the roaring darkness, my neighbor showed up and with a hand under my arm, got me out of there.

An answer to prayer.

Exactly when I needed it.

Thank you. Thank you Don. Thank you Lord.

And I have an addition to my Christmas list: a grappling hook and 10 meters of throwing line.

More reasons to be thankful – a photo post

My wonderful wife, beset with so many challenges, is cooking again.

I cannot begin to describe the depth of joy which this brings to my heart. It is, in the words of Miami Sound Machine, “Coming out of the dark”. She had given up cooking in abject frustration and despair as to do so was presenting too many challenges for her: standing, carrying, bending, and so on – all things needed for, and associated with, cooking.

She had so very long ago claimed the kitchen and cooking as her domain. She has always enjoyed cooking and cooking-related things, including researching new ideas and methods. It has always been a joy to her. I got to trespass in her domain only briefly for things like breakfast.

And now she’s beginning to do cooking again. I see this as the beginning of healing from all these challenges she has had to face, which I will not enumerate.

We are looking forward, not back.

But look what we produced together yesterday:

This was one of the easiest ways to do a turkey, and she had spent about a week doing research. This method involved using a cooking bag, (See Cook’s Country, current issue) and the turkey turned out GREAT. Moist, and look at the browning! One caveat: the turkey cooks faster in a bag, WAY faster. You have to watch it. We overcooked it just a bit, but it was hard to tell that we did, because it was moist and flavorful. We’ll do better, next time; live and learn.

The best thing: None of this dangerous stuff from before, like trying to turn a hot turkey from breast to back halfway through cooking – which is what we did last time. And I got at least a couple dozen new gray hairs on that day. I cannot tell you how stressful that was…

But to reemphasize the lead: I am so proud of her for taking up cooking again. We did good things together yesterday. And even made side dishes.

After putting away the food, we fell into bed exhausted, and slept in today. Now to tackle the kitchen.

In her words, “Eek, eek, eek…”

 

Yeah, there is a giant stack of dishes to do – and a lot of stuff out of sight to the left – but you know what? I’m doing it with a light heart:

Because she’s cooking and enjoying herself in the kitchen – her claimed domain – once again.

.

Healing comes. Healing… comes.
A tearful ‘Thank you’, Lord.

Autumn Arrives… Bringing Back our Spotted Owl (With Photos)

So today is the Autumnal Equinox.

When I learned of this, I initially thought, ‘So what’, right?’  I’ve seen so many of these….

But tonight has been a serious bookmark on the change of seasons of this year.

First, the sunset was a study in subtleties:

And then… It was a God moment.

I heard the most quietest of sounds from the garden.

And there… Over there…. Yes, what’s that…? There was our local Spotted Owl. (Sorry for the crummy cellphone pic; you use what you have.)

I’ve been trying to see her for the longest time. And tonight, there she was! 

She was hunting mice…

.. And she was successful.

.A minute after this pic, I saw her quietly pounce on something next to the garden fence.

And after a few more moments, she flew away… no more than ten feet past me, with something in her talons. I wish I’d had my glasses on, but that’s the way these things are meant to be.

But I realised what a few special moments I have been privileged to witness.

And I do hope that the circle of life here on the side of the mountain, tightens just a little bit.

May you have…Good hunting. May God give you and your chicks success; so much so, that we may never have to kill another mouse again in an effort to keep them from getting into our house.