Homebound

Tonight, after a few days of gray skies in Illinois, I drove home to Seymour. I wanted to be home for New Year's Eve and New Year's Day because these are the days when I finish projects from the old year and set goals for the new year.  This would be impossible to do when I'm away from my files and computer.

Gary and I checked the weather forecasts in Dixon and Rockford in Illinois and in Beaver Dam and Seymour in Wisconsin.  It looked like more snow was on the way, but not until later in the day, so I made the decision to travel today. 

So as I drove here, I was running against time.  At Dixon, the skies were gray, but the roads were dry. By the time I drove past Rockford onto the toll road, it was sleet that hit me but not much and the highways remained clear.  Near Stoughton I stopped for lunch and noticed it was getting colder.  Instead of sitting down for lunch, I got a takeout and ate the sandwich as I drove. I flicked around radio stations to hear about the weather, but the roads remained clear all the way around Madison, past Beaver Dam, through tiny Rosendale and on to Oshkosh and Appleton.

At Appleton, I had to stop for gas.  The clerk told me her husband was a trucker and he was reporting bad weather in Wausau, west of us.  I kept on moving.

At Skunk Hollow, the snow began to come down.  It was wet, sloppy stuff, the kind that leads to black ice. There were few people on the road.  I slowed way down and crept into my hometown.  I stopped at the supermarket for Rascal's usual treat, broasted chicken breast which I shared with him for dinner.

For a brief hour, the sky cleared and for the first time in days, I watched our golden sun as it set in the west.  Then the gray skies returned.

I am home. For the next few days, let it snow. I'll be here in my little house with Rascal, working on 2013. 

Tending to Shirley

Today Gary had the flu so it was up to me to visit his Aunt Shirley. She has had at least one daily visitor since she collapsed in November.

She is in the hospital in Dixon as the staff try to build up her strength. There seems to be little wrong with her physically, but she is losing weight and is often dehydrated. She told me today she wants to go to sleep and die and that she wishes she had never been born. I told her the first would happen some day, but I wouldn't accept the never being born bit. “Who would have taken care of Gary when he was little?” That started her on memories of Gary as a toddler. He was quite a handful which is why his parents had her help out. Shades of “It's a Wonderful Life.”

I'm used to sitting with elderly folks in hospitals and nursing homes. Years ago, I was part of a group who volunteered to sit with the dying at the Good Shepherd Home. Our services would be requested when the family members couldn't be there, sometimes because there was no family or if the family lived too far away or the family was so small it was overstretched. This usually meant we were called at night to sit by the bedside and talk as needed or to read as the patient slept. If the patient was comatose, I would sing old hymns and lullabies.

So this afternoon I sat quietly working on this computer when Shirley was sleeping. When she was awake, she told me stories. When she went for a procedure I went along. I wrote down all the results from blood pressure to her swallowing tests. I commiserated about the terrible taste of barium, and made sure she was covered up properly as she slept.

She had a visitor while she slept and we chatted. I sent an e-mail to Gary to tell him how things were going and what I had learned from the nurses. He passed on the messages to his sister in Jamaica.

I was going home tomorrow but the weather forecast is not promising, Gary is still down with the flu and Aunt Shirley needs company. I may stay another day.

Meanwhile, at Black Coffee Fiction ( http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com ) Wade has posted another one of his odd stories “The Interview”. Think I was naughty when I killed one cat in my last story? Wade is worse. It's good that no animals are harmed in the writing of these stories.

Daylight

If I were in Seymour, I would have only eight hours and 51 minutes of daylight this seventh day after the winter solstice. As I count down to spring, I wait anxiously for each additional minutes of sunlight but by the end of this month, I'll only see a gain of three minutes.

Yesterday, I drove to join Gary in Illinois. In driving south, I gained an additional eighteen minutes of daylight, but with overcast weather, I haven't seen any sun and tomorrow snow is forecast. Still a gain is a gain.

At the end of January I will be here in Dixon again. By that time, this part of Illinois will have about ten hours of daylight. Even better, I will keep on driving south for a southern tour. At Pass Christian, Mississippi, the sun will shine for ten hours and 45 minutes and with dawn and dusk, that will be extended to almost eleven and a half hours. With a long day and the warmer Gulf breezes, I should be able to pitch my tent and enjoy the evenings on the beach.

These winter trips south help me keep my sanity and hold off seasonal affective disorder...at least for a while.

Boxing Day

'Tis the day after Christmas.  I finally was able to hit the road to Dixon, Illinois and wished I had managed the  trip early on Christmas Day when people were mostly where they wanted to spend the day.

On the day after, or Boxing Day as the Brits call it, everyone here in the US seemed to be on their way home. I was passed by cars bearing license plates from the Deep South:  Florida, Georgia, Alabama.  The truckers were out in force, too, trying to make up for lost miles.  On a good driving day I would be able to set the speed using cruise control, but today was a knuckle whitening day with both hands firmly grasping the steering wheel.

Finally I am here with Gary in the farm house.  The longer he stays here, the nicer it gets though he really should consider throwing things away.  (Note to self: forget that idea.)

We visited Aunt Shirley in the hospital.  She now must be watched all the time because she tries to tear off her IV and escape.  The doctors and nurses are doing their best to build up her strength but she wants none of it.  Sometimes it is time and she seems to want the end to come soon.  Yet there isn't anything really wrong with her other than she is 92.

Tomorrow will be another day.  I volunteered to sit with Aunt Shirley for a couple of hours and listen to her stories, most of which I have heard, but it something I can do to help.

Gary still hasn't opened his present.  It is a calendar with photos of our favorite camping spots. I give him one every year.

"Why don't you open it?" I ask.

"I know how it ends."

Which is the truth. 

Merry Christmas!

There are two days of the year that I set aside for doing as little as possible:  Christmas and my birthday. Those are days I watch old DVDs, read humorous books, and take long naps. I eat what I want, no matter how bad for my constitution.  There are 363 days to be ambitious, but not on my two big holidays.

This year, Christmas Day was to be different.  The plan was for me to drive five hours down to Dixon, Illinois to join Gary, taking with me a Christmas dinner.  No lazing about.

I woke up with an ague this  Christmas morning after a long night's bout with insomnia. There is no way I will be driving anywhere.

Instead, if health permits, I will join Gary on Boxing Day.

So here I am, not feeling that well.  Nothing to do but watch old DVDs, read humorous books, and take several naps.

Merry Christmas to all!

Christmas Eve

I had my Christmas after all.  Chris, Tisha and Evan were able to come here for our traditional Christmas Eve.  Evan was still out of sorts, lethargic.  His appetite was poor so he didn't eat much of the meal I had prepared. Later, all he wanted to do was sit in the living room to watch cartoons and play video games.  He wasn't up to decorating the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, so Tisha and I did that job instead.

We exchanged gifts.  My favorite is always the calendar Tisha prepares for me each year with photos of Evan.  This year I showed up, too, hugging Evan in front of the Christmas tree, showing him my keyboard, sitting with him on the platform at the Shiocton marsh, watching him collect Easter eggs, decorating Christmas eggs.  It is a reminder of what a good year we had. And always pictures of that dear, dear little face.

Chris drove us to the cemetery where once again, Tisha charged over snowbanks to place our Christmas candle on my parents' grave.  Two days ago I had been there and thought no one could accomplish that but nothing stops my excellent daughter-in-law.

We did a little shopping:  fever medication for Evan, dish detergent for me, mending tape for the badges on Evan's Cub Scout shirt.  The stores will be closed tomorrow so we needed to do our shopping today.

Next we went to the children's Christmas service at the United Methodist Church.  Evan was not feeling well enough to sit with the other children at the front of the church but when the pastor quizzed them about the Christmas story, there was one little voice at the back of the church who called out the answers when no one else could.

Afterwards we drove around looking at the Christmas lights, especially the many at the museum on Depot Street, then we drove past the cemetery to make sure that candle was lit. Then I sent my little family home. Tomorrow is a big day for that little boy.

And that was my Christmas. Tonight, I am watching the old Alistair Sims portrayal of Scrooge and planning my journey to meet Gary in Illinois tomorrow.  The Christmas lights are glowing.  I drink herbal tea and think about the year to come.

Christmas Interrupted

This was not the Christmas I expected or planned for.

First, right before Thanksgiving, Gary had to go to Illinois to take care of his aunt and the family farm. I was left here to decorate for the holidays.  Usually, he does the lights and my work comes after with the ornaments. I was on my own.

Next, there was my annual Winter Solstice Party.  I invited everyone I knew, cleaned, decorated and cooked.  Then came the blizzard, and I had a turkey, a ham and plenty of other food for the three friends  that were able to get here.

So for the past two days, I've been taking all that leftover food and figuring out ways to use it.  I made turkey noodle soup, turkey sandwiches, turkey on salad, and finally, ground up the rest into treats for Rascal. I prepared the ham for scalloped potatoes, setting some aside for bean and potato soups.    

There was still Christmas Eve to come with Evan and Those People He Lives With.  I had already bought some presents and this morning baked sugar cookies to decorate with my little grandson.  This afternoon I drove to Oshkosh to meet my best friend Norma who joined me in shopping for last minute gifts for Evan.

It was right after I dropped her off at her sister's house when I got a cell phone call while waiting for a freight train to go by.  It was son Chris who called to tell me that Evan has the flu and he isn't sure they could come tomorrow for our usual Christmas Eve. Instead of supper here, church services, trading gifts and a trip to the cemetery to light a candle with my little family,  I may drive to Appleton to deliver Evan's presents.

Then on Christmas Day I'll drive to Illinois and Gary...if the weather permits.

It feels like Christmas Interrupted. Gary says think about next year.