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Archive of posts during 2009 and 2010
Merry Christmas (12/28/10):
The Stench (11/17/10): About three days ago we thought we could smell a foul odor in our house. At first it was, “Do you smell something?” We kept sniffing around until we finally concluded, “Yes, there is an unpleasant smell in this house.” Each day, the smell got worse. Something must have died up in here! The smell seemed to be strongest in the laundry room. So, we looked under the washer and dryer for a dead mouse. Nothing. We crawled behind the dryer, disconnected the dryer vent hose, and sniffed everywhere. We took the dryer apart and looked inside. Nothing. At one point we concluded that the smell was coming from the dryer vent hose, which meant that an animal had crawled into the hose and died. We examined the area where the hose exits the house to the outside. There was no screen over the end of the hose, and the flap that should seal the hose when not in operation did not close completely. There was certainly enough space for a mouse, rat, or chipmunk (there are many around out patio) to gain entrance to the dryer hose. We assumed they were stupid animals, and once that entered, they could not find their way out. When we sniffed the end of the dryer hose next to the dryer, the oder was really strong. We weighed all this evidence and concluded that a varmint had died inside the dryer hose. Our plan was to hope that the critter would rapidly decompose and the smell would eventually go away. I could not visualize me replacing 20-30 feet of dryer hose under the house in a cramped crawlspace. I resorted to placing a weight against the flap of the hose where it exits the house to prevent air from moving from the outside and carrying the smell into the laundry room. That did not seem to diminish the odor. The next morning, realizing that hope is not a good strategy, I had no choice but to crawl under the house to assess the situation. Months ago, I swore I would not go into the crawlspace again, opting to pay someone instead. However, since I didn't know who to call, I went under there again. It was as I remembered—dank, dark,
musty, disgusting. It stunk in it's usual way, but now also had the
stench we had been smelling in our house. The stench increased as I
got closer to the laundry room area, which, by the way, is at the
other end of the house from the entrance to the crawlspace. The
smell got so intense as I neared the area of the laundry room, I
decided our theory of a small animal crawling into the dryer vent was
not plausible. I kept crawling. Eventually, I found a dead possum,
alive with maggots, emanating an odor that could have gagged a
maggot, but I couldn't tell that any of the maggots were gagging. I
had brought a small spade and a plastic bag, which I used to scoop up
and carry away the carcass. I also tried to scoop up as many maggots
as possible, thinking that since they were so big, if they died they
would produce a stench of their own. We hardly noticed the smell today. While under the house, I noticed that
one of the water pipes was leaking. The leak is very slow and I was
lucky to find it. I will hire a plumber to fix that problem. I
affirm that only on rare, special occasions will I ever venture into
the crawlspace again.
Fishing Trip (11/5/10):
Visit to Richmond (11/03/2010):
A couple of weeks ago we visited the Bridges Family in Richmond. Great Grandma Hinkle (Grandma 'Neat) and Aunt Kay went with us. We spent several days and had a great time. The babies continue to impress us with their verbal skills and overall cuteness. We took lots of pictures and a few videos. Arky 100 (10/10/10): The Arky 100 is a bicycle tour sponsored by the Arkansas Bicycle Club. The course follows country roads south of Little Rock about 55 miles from home. The scenery was beautiful. The ride started at 8:00 am, so I didn't have to get up really early to get there on time. I rode 100 K (62 miles), but others rode 100 or 50 miles. It was a near perfect day for a ride--clear blue skies without a cloud, temperature in the low 60's at the start. I was a little cold for a while at the start, but I'm glad I didn't wear more than a summer biking shirt. It was warm by noon when I finished. The course had rolling hills with some steep hills intermixed with stretches of flat lands. It was challenging, but the hills weren't terribly long or steep. I set a personal best on this ride. I averaged 17.9 miles per hour and it took me a little less than 3 ½ hours, not counting the time I spent at rest stops. I stopped at all three rest stops and filled up my water bottles, ate some bananas, cookies, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I had to use the port-a-potty at two of the stops, which means that I kept myself pretty well hydrated. I drank about 6-8 ounces of pickle juice at one of the stops. I believe pickle juice can help prevent cramps. It must have worked, because I had no hint of a muscle cramp. (It might also be good for keeping elephants away, because I didn't see a single elephant). I can't explain precisely why I was able to set a personal best on this ride. I set my previous personal best earlier this year during the Tour de Rock. The course for that ride was completely flat and much more conducive for speed. During that ride, I drafted most of the way (except for the last 8.5 miles) and didn't pull. Today I drafted behind other riders most of the time, but I did pull a few times. I rode the last few miles today alone, because I pulled away from the people I was riding with. Today, I had a good opportunity to observe the effects of drafting. About midway through the course, I found myself riding alone. I was riding about 17-18 mph and my heart rate was between 130 and 135. Eventually, a group of riders passed me and I drafted behind them until the next rest stop. Their speed was between 18-19 mph. While I was drafting behind them, my heart rate dropped at least 10 beats/minute. I was very comfortable riding with them. Later in the ride, with another group of riders, it became my time to pull. I tried to maintain a speed of about 20 mph, which I thought was the speed we had been riding. To maintain that speed, my heart rate was near 150 beats per minutes. The next person that pulled decreased the speed a little, and the decrease in speed and the effects of drafting caused my heart rate to decrease by about 20 beats per minute. After the ride, folks were cooking
hamburgers and hot dogs, and I had one of each. That stuff tasted
really good.
The thief brought the phone back and gave it to the nursing home administrator but didn't admit that she stole the phone. Instead, she said she found the phone in the back seat of her car and blamed another CNA for putting it there. The phone battery had run down, but I charged the phone and reviewed the text messages. Although the phone can't be used to make calls, the text messages were stored on the phone. Of the 79 text messages sent or received using the phone, 47 sent messages were still on the phone. None of the received messages were on the phone. Almost all the messages were short love notes, all to the same number. Some of my favorites are: “...my shit is throbbing bad 4 u...”, “We r grandparents”, and “...Im glad cause u r my wife” After reading the text messages, I confirmed with the nursing home administrator that the thief is a woman. All the messages were sent to her “wife”. Isn't that special. The administrator deducted the cost of sending the text messages (20 cents apiece) and the cost of the phone from the final paycheck of the thief. Mama got a check from the nursing home for $75. Case of the missing cell phone—II (9/22/10): Someone stole Mama's cell phone again. It happened on Saturday night, and the first call was made at about 11:30 that night. I learned that Mama's phone had been stolen when I visited her on Sunday morning. When I returned home, I went on line and checked how many calls had been made. Only three call were made, one to a cell phone in Little Rock and 2 calls to a cell phone in California. However, throughout the night 79 text messages were sent and received—all to the same number, the one in California. Because Mama has no text message plan for her phone, each message cost 20 cents. When I called Verizon to discuss the situation, they said the phone would be deactivated so it couldn't be used any more. They also promised that the bill would be adjusted so the text messages would not be billed to us. On Sunday afternoon, I printed a list of the unauthorized calls and text messages. I gave a copy to the highest ranking nurse at the nursing home. On Monday morning I discussed the situation with the nursing home administrator. She said she would try to find the thief. Monday afternoon I returned to the nursing home to determine what the administrator had done. She found the thief by calling the Little Rock number that had been called by Mama's phone. She said she had found a cell phone at the nursing home and was trying to find the owner, by calling the last number that had been called by the phone. The person that answered gave the name of a woman who worked at the nursing home. The administrator reviewed the application of the suspect and found that the other number that had been called with Mama's phone (the one in California) was listed as the emergency contact number of the employee. The suspect came to work at 3:00 pm on Tuesday and was confronted by the administrator. The suspect adamantly denied that she had used the phone. The administrator said that the woman had worked for many years in nursing homes and thought it was strange that she would jeopardize her livelihood by stealing a cell phone. The administrator gave her one day to provide proof that she didn't steal the cell phone. The suspect didn't return. The administrator asked me for the cost of the cell phone and the amount of charges for the text messages. That amount would be deducted from the thief's paycheck. As was the case with the other person who stole Mama's phone before, the thief's name will be submitted to the government group that regulates and licenses CNA's. The thieves will likely loose their licenses. The incident was reported to the police and a report will be filed. However, the police wouldn't come to the nursing home and declined to do any additional investigation. So, except for losing their jobs and probably their licenses, the thieves got off without police involvement. I guess the police have bigger fish to fry. Is President Obama a Muslim? (9/16/10): Apparently, a huge number of people in this country believe that President Obama is a Muslim. According to a recent Time Magazine poll, about one-forth of Americans (and 45% of Republicans) believe he is a Muslim. A Newsweek poll found that 52 percent of Republicans believe that it is “definitely true” or “probably true” that “Barack Obama sympathizes with the goals of Islamic fundamentalists who want to impose Islamic law around the world.” So a majority of Republicans think that our President wants to impose Islamic law worldwide. Really? I'm really confused by these statistics, given the fact that the President has repeatedly stated that he is a Christian; he was a member of a Christian church in Chicago. Obviously, many people believe he lied when he said he was a Christian. I bet that almost all of the people who think Mr. Obama is a Muslin are Christians, and that's not a very Christian attitude, in my opinion. Christian denominations that I know about allow anyone to become a Christian. There is no test of ethnicity, race, place of birth, parents religion, or anything. One only has to believe by faith in God and Jesus and you can become a Christian. You may have to go through a few additional steps to be fully accepted (catechism, baptism, join a congregation, etc), but I'm very sure it's quite easy to become a Christian. Therefore, why do people not accept President Obama's word that he is a Christian? I can understand that many people may
not like the President. Many may hate him, consider him to be the
worst President ever, or detest what he stands for. That's
understandable. It's a free country, you don't have to like or
respect the President. However, the fact that so many people believe
that the President is a Muslim after he has repeatedly stated that he
is Christian, is baffling. It reeks of a type of bigotry that I
can't comprehend. Muscadine Jelly (9/8/10):
The case of the missing cell phone (8/23/10): Last week Mama's couldn't find her cell phone. She told the nurse, who called me to ask me to call the number so they listen for the ring and locate the phone. However, when I called the number, it went immediately to voice mail, meaning the phone was probably turned off or had shut off due to low battery. When I visited her that day, I looked high and low for the phone but couldn't find it. I talked to the nurses, who had also searched for the phone. I went into the break room and announced to all present that my mother had lost her phone, hoping that if anyone found a phone they would know that Mama had lost hers. The next morning, Mama's phone was back in it's normal place—a cup holder on her wheelchair. Later that day, I checked the phone record to see what calls had been made from Mama's phone. There were a few numbers that I didn't recognize. Some calls were made late at night, and one call was made at 2:45 in the morning. The next day, I went to see the nursing home administrator and presented her with this information. She immediately got the records of who was working around the time the calls were made. From the pattern of the calls, it seem likely that the person who used Mama's phone worked a shift that starts at 3:00 pm and ends at 11:00 pm. Most of the calls were made after 11:00 pm. The nursing home has cameras that record the movements of people throughout the nursing home. While I was there, the administrator reviewed the videos to see who went into Mama's room during the times when the phone might have been taken or returned. The most compelling evidence was a video which probably showed the return of the phone. An aid, who did not work on Mama's wing, could be seen standing around her door for several minutes. He was seen talking to another aid, but when no one was present in the hallway, he entered Mama's room for about 15 seconds—too sort a time for him to have helped her with anything. Then, he vacated Mama's wing. I had searched hard on the Internet to try to find information about the phone numbers that were called using Mama's phone. But, I couldn't find anything. Some of the numbers ended with 7777 or 6666, which seemed strange to me. I thought the numbers could be a business rather than a person. Last night, I decided to search for chat room in Little Rock, and viola, these numbers appeared. Today when I visited Mama, I noticed that her phone was not in the cup holder on her wheelchair. She said she didn't know where her phone was. I searched her room, but couldn't find it. Then, I used my mobile device (Droid phone) to log on to my verizon wireless account and check the call log. I discovered that calls totaling more than an hour had been made to the chat line numbers after 11:00 pm. I presented this information to the administrator. She reviewed the videos from the night before and found that the suspect had entered Mama's room at about 10:00 pm last night, even though he was not assigned to her wing. He was in her room for only a few seconds. Based on this information, we developed a plan to observe him return the phone today. His shift started at 3:00. I was to visit Mama before that time, and ensure that the phone was still missing. Then, we would observe to see whether he entered the room, and if so, determine whether the phone reappeared. At about 3:30, I was standing at the nurses station talking to the Director of Nursing, who was part of the investigative team. We watched as the suspect walked to Mama's room (he was not assigned to her wing today either) and enter her room for a few seconds. After he left the wing, we went to Mama's room and found the phone in it's normal place. The Director of Nursing was almost giddy at the thought of solving the mystery. She asked me to 'high five' her, which I did. She is almost my age—a couple of old sleuths high-fiving the end of an investigation. The administrator, having watched the scene on video, came to Mama's room. She wore a rubber glove to pick up the phone in order to preserve the finger prints. I told Mama that her phone had reappeared, but that the administrator wanted to keep it overnight in her office. At this point the administrator decided to confront the suspect and instructed the Director of Nursing to bring him to her office. I left and gave Mama a manicure. Later, I talked to the Director of
Nursing and the administrator about what happened during the
confrontation. The suspect admitted everything. He was contrite,
very polite, and sorrowful. It didn't matter, he was fired and
immediately left the premises. The administrator will file a police
report as is required by policy. We are hopeful the case is closed.
I am a tiny bit concerned that some charges could have been made to
Mama's phone to pay for the chats. I'm not sure how payment is made
to chat services. I will have to wait until the phone bill arrives
to be sure that her phone was not charged.
Visit with family (8/15/2010): Matthew, Ann, Maddie, Nathan and Amy visited us in Little Rock. Amy and the Bridges from Richmond arrived about a few hours apart and would have arrived on the same flight, except that Amy's flight leaving DC was canceled and she was re-routed through Detroit, causing her to arrive few hours later. She seems to have her share of bad luck with flying. Her flight home was delayed leaving Little Rock, which meant that she would have missed her connection in Memphis. Since there were no alternate flights to DC, she spent an additional night with us. We made the most of it and even recorded a music video. We had a great time with our family. The twins are 2 ½ but seem mature for their age (Grandad might be prejudiced). Their speech is amazing. They can say anything, and they speak using full sentences. I believe I am near the top of the list of their favorite people. We enjoyed a day at Round Rock Ranch (Kay and Robert's place), and the babies had a blast swimming in the pool and seeing cows and other things on the farm. We spent another day there with Amy after Matthew and his crew went back to Richmond. We spent some time soaking up sun in the pool, which is not hard to do this time of year with temperatures over 100 just about every day. We took almost 700 pictures, and I
posted some of them here. We also took several videos, and I posted
some of them as well—here. Southern-Midwestern Fusion Cuisine When we were in Minnesota, we bought a Spaetzle maker. Basically, spaetzle is an egg dumpling/noodle made with flour and eggs. You make a soft dough and use the spaetzle maker to cut off small pieces of the dough, which is dropped into boiling water or broth. We used it for the first time today. It turned out pretty good for our first try. Ann made a bread crumb sauce to serve with the spaetzle. The first ingredient was ½ cup of butter. Need I say more? We also went to the farmer's market this morning and bought some purple hull peas, greens, tomatoes, corn, and squash. For dinner we had what we called
Southern-Midwesterm Fusion Cuisine. Here's the menu. Mixture of mustard and turnip greens (southern) Corn on the cob (both southern and midwestern) Sliced tomatoes (both southern and midwestern) Fried Chicken (a little more southern?) Spaetzle (Midwestern) Yummm!
Our road trip to the Midwest was
fantastic. We met new friends, experienced new things, and
reminisced about an exciting time in our lives when we started our
family and I earned a PhD at one of the finest Universities in the country. Day 7—St. Louis to home Our trip home was uneventful. We worked several crossword puzzles and enjoyed the scenery. Once we got to Arkansas, we noticed that the crops were much the same as we had seen throughout our trip—corn and soybeans. It was hard to tell whether the crops were comparable to those in the Midwest. But, I'm sure that no farmer in Arkansas wants to get into a corn-growing contest with farmers in Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, or Illinois. In northeastern Arkansas we saw quite a number of rice fields. We didn't see any of that in the Midwest. We got home in the mid afternoon; it was an easy day of traveling.
We started the day today by touring more of the University of Wisconsin campus. First stop was Russell Labs, where I worked. I worked on the 6th floor. The Steenbock Library was next door to Russell Labs, so I spent a huge amount of time in these two buildings during my time in Madison. (See Pictures). We also found the hospital where Amy and Matthew were born. Back then, it was called Madison General Hospital, but it goes by another name now. We were able to find all the buildings on campus where I spent a lot of time, except the biochemistry building. I minored in biochemistry, so I spent took courses in biochemistry and nutrition. Some streets were under construction and were blocked, so we couldn't drive to all areas of the campus. The drive to St. Louis was uneventful. There are a lot of corn fields in Wisconsin and Illinois, as well as Iowa and Minnesota. We could have driven a few more hours past St. Louis, but why should we? We're on vacation, and we are off on Monday. Day 5—New Ulm, MN to Madison, WI We left New Ulm about 8:30 and headed west, not east toward Madison. Ann had seen a great bread rising bowl (a big metal bowl with a lid with air holes used to proof bread) in Gibbon. So, we drove to Gibbon and bought the bowl before heading east for Madison. We took pictures of the Gibbon sign and some of the area around Gibbon. We arrived in Madison and toured around for a couple of hours. We drove first to Eagle Heights, the married student housing complex were we lived for most of our time in Madison. Being there brought back a lot of memories. The sand box was there littered with toys, the swings were there where Matthew liked to be pushed, the sidewalk was there where Matthew rode his big-wheel, the small slope was there where Matthew like to ride his sled when it snowed. (See pictures). Our apartment was 923 E. Amy was conceived there just after I came home from a conference in Minneapolis. Matthew was conceived at 2243 Woodview Court. That's where we moved when we first went to Madison. One afternoon, I had just come home from the lab... We lived there for less than a year before we moved to Eagle Heights. We moved there in January and the temperature was 25 below zero. As we were driving there we heard weather reports about the cold temperatures. The wind chill was dangerous, we should cover exposed flesh to prevent frost bite. Oh, my God. What kind of place had we come to? We will surely freeze to death. We didn't. I bought a big coat and we survived. The country boy from Arkansas did just fine. In fact, I was a pretty good student and the only student in our department who ever made an A in both Biochemistry 601 and 602 (rigorous biochemistry courses). We also visited Meeting House Nursery School where Ann taught pre-school. It was located at a Unitarian Church that was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. Ann couldn't remember all the details, but recognized some of the class rooms. (See pictures)
The Bavarian Blast started about noon today, and we were there. First, we stopped at a couple of shops to buy a spaetzle makers and a cap for me. I forgot to bring a cap, and my bald head got a little sun burned yesterday. The Bavarian Blast is mostly about music and food and drink. The venue was the fair grounds and most of the activities occurred in large tents. Two bands played in separate tents continuously. After 2-3 hours of listening to music and eating German food for lunch (brats, spaetzle), we went back to our motel for a while to rest. We met Richard and Faye at about 4:00, and listened to more music, drank some more beer, and ate some more German food (Landjaeger, sour kraut, German potato salad). Richard sings in a male chorus, the Concord Singers, that sings German music. The Concord Singers had two performances, one at 6:00 and one at 8:30. The group was very good and one of the highlights of the Bavarian Blast. I took pictures of Richard and some of the other singers. I posted some of the pictures here. Day 3—Gibbon, MN This morning we drove from New Ulm where we are staying to Gibbon to visit Richard and Faye at their farm. After breakfast with them, we looked around the farm. Ann and Faye went to some antique stores. Richard showed me his farm, and we road one of tractors around to see the crops. After lunch at Faye and Richard's, we drove around the countryside. We visited the man who has the sugar shack where they make maple syrup each spring. I have a case of syrup to take home. We toured a dairy owned by Richard's cousin's family. It's a big operation; they milk over 400 cows. We took some pictures of the church where Richard and Faye attend. Richard attended parochial school there and the school is still in operation. It has about 20 students in grades one through eight. After a day of touring around the farm,
we came back to New Ulm for the concert by the Little River Band.
The opening band was Van Gogh's Ear, a local band. We drank some
beer and had a great time. (More Pictures)
Day 2—Cameron, MO to New Ulm, MN We hit the road about 8:00, opting not to have the breakfast muffins provided by the Super 8. We ate a late breakfast at a local diner somewhere in Iowa. We stopped at Clear Lake State Park in northern Iowa for lunch, which consisted of snack food which Ann had packed. We saw many windmills inn northern Iowa (see pictures) and, of course, many fields of corn and soybeans. We got to New Ulm about 3:30 and had a
chance to relax before our friends Richard and Faye came. We went
out to eat together, and then they gave us a driving tour of the
city. Very interesting; we had a great time. Day 1—Little Rock to Cameron, MO We left home about 8:30 and headed west and a little north to the western part of the state near Fort Smith. From there we headed almost due north to Kansas City and on to Cameron. We drove through patches of heavy rain on our way to Fort Smith, but after that the weather was good. We worked crossword puzzles and listened to music. I bought a doodad to play music on my iPod through the car radio. Among other things, we listened to the Little River Band's Definitive Greatest Hits. On Thursday we will attend a concert by the Little River Band in New Ulm, MN. When we heard that we could go to the concert, I thought that would but fun because I certainly remember the Little River Band. However, I couldn't remember any of their songs. But, as we listened to their Greatest Hits, I remembered almost all of the songs. It should be a great concert. We ate Mexican food in who-knows-where Missouri (near Carthage). It was surprisingly very good. Cameron offers a few choices for lodging, and we picked Super8. We made a run to WalMart, because someone told us that was a good place to buy wine. (You can get almost anything in WalMart). We went to a bar and grille for dinner, which was pretty good. Mama Moved (7/7/10): Yesterday, Mama moved from Presbyterian Village Nursing Home to Valley Ranch Nursing Home. Valley Ranch is approved for Medicaid and Presbyterian Village is not and Mama may have to go on Medicaid. Valley Ranch is in west Little Rock and is closer to our house, but it is farther from Judy. The move went pretty well. We made the move in one trip. She got settled in her new place without any problems. She has no roommate now, but that will eventually change. The nursing home is new and is not even half filled yet. She saw some familiar faces—a nurse and a couple of CNA's who used to work at Presbyterian Village. Seeing them helped easy the transition. We spent quite a lot of time with her on her first day. It was a little hard leaving Presbyterian Village, because we new all the staff, and they all liked Mama. Mr. Stover was sad when we left. He kept saying he wanted to move to the same place, but I doubt that would be possible. He got married a few days ago, and unless that marriage is annulled, his new bride will move in with him at Presbyterian Village. I will continue to go by and see him from time to time. It's Hot!!! (6/25/10): Summer has descended on Little Rock
with a vengeance. It's only June but it seems more like August. I
thought this weather must surely be abnormal, so I did a little
analysis (see below). Sure enough, it has been unusually hot this
month. We have had above normal temperatures for at least the past
two weeks. Over this time period the average high temperature has
been 96 degrees. The normal average for this period is 89
degrees—quite a difference. The highest average maximum
temperature occurs between mid-July and mid-August and that average
is 93 degrees. So, here we are in mid June having temperatures far
exceeding the normal high for this time of year, but also several
degrees above the maximum summer reading. Must be global warming.
Last Saturday I rode in the Tour de Rock, a bicycle ride in support of CARTI (Central Arkansas Radiation Therapy Institute). I rode 100 K (62 miles). According to the paper, there were over 1000 participants. The course was east of Little Rock, which is very flat, and that's good. But, of course, there was wind. Fortunately, the wind wasn't always a head wind. The temperature was a bit brutal. It was in the mid seventies at ride time (7:00 am) and very, very humid. I woke up with a sore throat, but I didn't begin to feel sick until after the ride. Now, I feel pretty awful. I was fortunate to be able to draft behind other riders for most of the ride and never had to pull. That helped me register a good time—17.4 mph. That's probably the best I've ever done during one of these long rides. For the last 8.5 miles, I couldn't find anyone to draft behind, and passed lots of other riders. No body passed me. I rode as hard as I could (a bit like a horse headed to the barn). I reasoned that I didn't want to leave anything out there; I had paid my entry fee and I wanted to get my money's worth. I had lots of fun. I begin to have cramps in my legs at about 40 miles and was depressed by the thought of having to quit (it's happened before). At the next rest stop I drank lots of water, which I had done for the entire ride, ate a dill pickle, and drank some pickle juice. That's supposed to help prevent cramps, and I believe it did. I'm now a believer in pickle juice. The cramps didn't worsen, and at the next rest stop, which was about 15 miles away, I drank some more pickle juice. After that, I didn't notice the cramps. There was live music, beer, and
Bar-B-Que at the finish line. According to my heart monitor, I
burned over 2000 calories. The food tasted great! We had a wonderful time visiting the Bridges of Richmond--Matthew, Ann, Madeleine, and Nathan. We arrived on Thursday and left on Tuesday and that gave up plenty of time for a good visit. I've posted some pictures here. Both Maddie and Nathan seemed to remember us from our last visit and didn't treat us as strangers. When we first arrived, they wanted to show us around, so we heard lots of, “Granddad, look at this (door, the cat, the window, etc).” Aunt Amy (Mamie) drove down from Washington on Saturday and spent one night in Richmond. The babies really love their only Aunt (not counting the many great and great-great Aunts). I could tell many stories about the cute things the babies did, but I'll share only 2. Maddie wanted to get up in my lap, so I picked her up. She looked me right in the eye with a big smile on her face. Then, without any encouragement or suggestion, she kissed me on the cheek. Of course, I kissed her back. Now, that is the path to an old man's heart. Once when Nathan was playing in his room upstairs, he bumped head. He didn't cry a lot, but said, “I need ice.” Since I could tell the wound was not serious enough for ice, I told him we didn't have any ice upstairs, and I suggested that I could kiss it. He came over to me and turned his head to me so I could kiss the wound. I gave it a good kiss, but he whimpered a little and pointed to a spot a few millimeters from the first kiss. I kissed that spot. Then, he pointed again to another spot a tiny bit away from the second spot, trying to get the exact spot that needed kissing. The third kiss seemed to do the trick. Oh, the healing power of Granddad's kiss.
Today is the day to remember those who
have paid the ultimate sacrifice in service to their country. Our
countrymen and countrywomen die every day in places like Iraq and
Afghanistan. We remember them on this day as we remember all those
in years past that gave their lives. In this context, it could also
be the day that we reflect on why our country has ask them to pay
such a price. Let's be sure that the wars we are pursuing in Iraq
and Afghanistan are justified. Let's continue to be leery. No one
should die in vain. I think we should bring our brave men and women
home sooner than later.
Family Reunion (5/31/10): We spent some time in Mountain View over the weekend, because Ann had a reunion with all her cousins—both of them! I teased her a bit, because I have forgotten more cousins than that. Of course, the cousins had reproduced a lot, so there were many people at the reunion. Nevertheless it's not the number of people who come to a reunion that matters, it's the amount of food you have. And by that measure, this reunion was a huge success. A lot of advance planning went into planning what food each person would bring. Each person was assigned to bring specific foods. I have some suggestions that might be of use during the planning phase for the next reunion. I don't think I will actually offer these suggestions to the planners, but I will note them here. Consider how many people will attend
the reunion. Because you sent invitations with RSVP, you know how
many will be there. Plan accordingly. Don't prepare enough food for
6-8 times that number. Otherwise, there will be an enormous amount
of left-overs. Suppress this thought, “What if somebody
drops by?” Not many people are likely to drop by. There usually aren't a lot of
drop-ins at a reunion. For a lunch for 26 people, half of which are children, you don't need 4 large pork loins. Limit the amount of pork to about 8-10 ounces per person. No one will go home hungry with that amount. There were plenty of side dishes. Consider whether having six different salads at each meal is necessary. The fact that none of them were the same proves nothing. That is a lot of salad. Consider the need to triple or quadruple every recipe. Other people will bring food. You will not run out of food and have to kill yourself. Juanita's plan to make 8 apple pies for lunch was excessive. Thank goodness someone negotiated that number down to 3. However, consider whether 3 apple pies were necessary. There were at least 5 or 6 other desserts to choose from. The babies can't eat solid food. We can't eat that much dessert. I will admit that the apple pie was fantastic. If you insist on bringing that much
food, consider developing a food disposal plan or a left-over
distribution plan. There will be a huge amount of uneaten food. Mama is moving (5/21/10): We hired a lawyer to prepare an application for Mama to be on Medicaid. Medicaid will pay the costs for a person to be in a nursing home, if that person has no assets or ability to pay. Basically, if you have less than $2000 and need to be in a nursing home, Medicaid will pay. The farm is not included among her assets, because it was deeded to us kids several years ago. Mama has substantially more money than $2000, but she is not a rich woman. Thus, if she lives long enough, she will eventually spend all her money. The nursing home costs almost $5000 a month. Do the math... There are a number of things that must be done before the application for Medicaid can filed. We worked on one problem yesterday. Presbyterian Village, the nursing home where Mama lives now, does not take Medicare patients. Our lawyer advised us that Mama should be in a facility that accepts Medicaid before the application is filed. Therefore, we are looking for places where Mama might move. We toured one place yesterday that was very nice. It's new and just became certified for Medicaid a few months ago. Judy talked to a family member of a resident there, who recommended it highly. This person moved her relative from Presbyterian Village, so she should be able to make an informed comparison. It's located in west Little Rock and is closer to me than Presbyterian Village, but farther from Judy. Mama will probably move in less than a month. She doesn't seem to be upset by having to move. I think she will like the new place. At least, we hope so. Cycle for Sight (5/16/10):
Yesterday, I participated in the Cycle for Sight by riding 60 miles. The event raises money for the Jones Eye Institute at the University of Arkansas Medical Center—a good cause. Both Ann and I go to the Institute for our eye care. We are thankful that our eye care has for the most part only involved routine check-ups. The course was entirely on the Arkansas River Trail, which runs along the both sides of the river. The ride started and ended on the North Little Rock side, which is the nicest part of the trail. Part of the trail on the Little Rock side is on streets near the River Market section of town. Police were stationed at the traffic lights to stop traffic so we riders didn't have to stop. Nevertheless, a city street is not my preferred biking path. One loop around the trail is 15 miles. About 100 riders registered, but I didn't see that many people. There was lots of rain in the state yesterday and that may have dissuaded some people from riding. Although the trail was wet from rain earlier in the day, there was no rain during the ride. With so few riders, it was hard to find anyone riding at my pace, so I rode most of the time alone. I averaged just under 15 miles per hour. Ann was at the finish line to take my picture as I finished. There was live music and hamburgers and hot dogs. After riding for nearly 4 hours, I was very hungry and the food tasted great. We didn't have time to stay very long to listen to the band, because we needed to leave to go my Plainview for a High School reunion. I enjoyed the high school reunion very much. It was a multi-year reunion, not just for my class (1962). However, over half of my graduating class attended. Some of my classmates got old. I'm pretty sure they used to be the same age as I am. Facial Plastic Surgery (5/11/10):  Matthew just lauched his web site
for his facial plastic surgery practice. Check it out by clicking
on the logo above. I think the web site looks great. I am
pleased to provide a link to his site on my page. The more links
to a page from other web sites, the more likely the page will be picked
up by a Google search. In addition to facial plastic
surgery, Matthew also works in an Ear, Nose, and Throat Clinic.
Click here for the Clinic's web page. Tour de Cure (5/8/10): I participated in the Tour de Cure, a bicycle ride to support the American Diabetes Association. I rode in the 100 km (62 mile) ride. Rides of 100, 50, and 20 miles were also available. The weather was windy and cool. Cool is OK, but windy is not good for riding a bike. The temperature was in the mid fifties when the ride started. There was not a cloud in the sky, thanks to a front that moved through yesterday bringing clear skies. I estimate there were about 40 riders who participated in the 100 km ride. I didn't recognize anyone. My strategy in a ride like this is to draft behind a big guy and let him pull me along. The first guy I chose ran off and left me after about 3 miles. The next person I chose was a woman named, Karen, and I rode with her for quite a while until a couple of other guys caught up with us. They rode with us for several miles and pulled for most of the time. Later I rode with Richard, a guy I had met once before on a training ride several weeks earlier. We rode with some other riders for most of the ride. Richard and I rode the last 20 miles alone. The younger guys we were riding with couldn't keep up. The course took us east of Little Rock to the flat farming country. I saw fields with corn over knee high. I also saw some rice fields. The course was out-and-back. The wind was at our back going east, but it was, of course, in our face coming back. I averaged almost 19 miles an hour for the first half of the ride, thanks to the tail wind. My overall average was 17.1. I was pretty pleased with that speed. It doesn't break any records, but this was not a race. (Last year I averaged 16.8 mph. Yes, I keep a database of information like this). I will blame the low average on Richard, my riding partner. We took turns pulling one another. But, with about 12-15 miles left to go, he started to have trouble keeping up. Therefore, I led the rest of the way. With only me pulling, our speed decreased. Also, when he couldn't keep up, I slowed down to wait for him. He's 60 years old. He did very well until the last part of the ride. We rode off and left some younger guys behind. My sister, Judy, was waiting at the finish line to take our picture. Bar-b-que, bakes beans, and slaw were also waiting for us when we finished. No beer, just soft drinks. I love riding in events like this. I believe I produce lots of endorphins (you know, those endogenous opioid polypeptide compounds that are produced by the body during exercise) that give me a real “high”. But, much later in the day, I switched over to a nice Malbec, and that seems to produce the same effect.
My sister will be inducted into the Missouri Valley College's Women's Hall of Fame. Congratulations! That's quite an accomplishment. Below is a news release that describes more about the honor. Marshall, Mo. (April 27, 2010)—Missouri Valley College’s Valley Women organization will honor three women at its annual tea at 4 p.m. on Friday, April 30 in the Ferguson Center Formal Lounge on the MVC campus. The 42nd inductee into the Valley Women’s Hall of Fame, the 2010 Outstanding Senior Woman, and Valley Women Scholarship recipient will be recognized. Virginia Zank, retired public school educator, will be inducted into the Valley Women’s Hall of Fame, and she says MVC has positively impacted her life. “Valley gave me the opportunity to make new friends, change and enrich the lives of my students, and do really good work,” Zank said. “Valley came along when I needed a new home—Marty, my husband, died in 1992. I had retired from high school teaching and Valley allowed me the opportunity to reinvent myself and start over.” Virginia taught for 30 years in Missouri public schools retiring from Marshall High School in 1993. After her retirement from MHS, she was an adjunct instructor in English at Missouri Valley College from 1993-1997. “Shortly after I began fulltime as assistant professor of English, I went to State Farm and got computers, printers, tables, and chairs, and started the first writing lab with tutors in Ferguson Center in the room next to my office, and I was appointed composition director.” Zank said. That would lead her to her next assignment in 2002—director of the MVC Learning Center, a position she held until 2008. “I designed the program in the Learning Center and moved to Baity Hall on the third floor in the newly remodeled chapel,” Zank said. “It was a beautiful place to work—stained glass windows, new furniture, new computers—the writing program at Valley was no longer a step-child. We had clout. President Humphrey wanted it to be a ‘happenin’ place,’ and it was indeed. I worked with many students every day to help them fulfill their dreams.” From 2002-2008 she would also serve as supervisor of the Freshman First Year Program, a program designed to help freshman with the transition from high school to college. Zank and Dr. John McLean published an article for Noel-Levitz about starting the program on a shoestring, and the company has used the information in their marketing program for several years. Zank also oversaw the production of The Purple Patch, MVC’s student-produced literary magazine. From 2008 to present she has served as an educational consultant to MVC, where she works on the revision of the mission statement, assessment, accreditation, and research. Her many years of involvement and her excellence in education is why Zank is the 2010 inductee into Valley Women’s Hall of Fame. As stated on the Valley Women anonymous nomination form, “Virginia remains active since her retirement as a consultant for the improvement in the programs at Valley. She is always willing to help.” Zank said she is proud to be a Valley Women’s Hall of Famer. “I am honored to be inducted into the Valley Women’s Hall of Fame—I am also shocked, but grateful for the honor,” Zank said. “Valley is not only a place for me, it is a feeling. I found a place of academic freedom, a feeling of family, supportive people who believed in me and what I was doing. I felt secure, which was an important thing in that stage of my life. I like the feeling of growing and moving forward that is always present on campus.” Zank’s professional memberships include National Council of Teachers of English, MO Association of Teachers of English, and MO State Teachers Association. Also
active in the Marshall and
Branson, Mo. communities, Zank was a longtime member of the Marshall
Community Chorus, is currently a member of the Marshall Optimist
Club, currently serves on the Architectural Control Committee for
Stonebridge Village in Branson, is a member of the MVC President’s
Society, and is a member of the Kimberling City United Methodist
Church. Last night we attended a concert by Levon Helm. The concert was at one of the gambling casinos near Tunica, MS. We knew nothing of the concert until the day before, when Ann's sister Kay called to say a friend had tickets but couldn't go. Since it was too wet to plow, and we had nothing else going on, we decided to go. Not long before we got to Mississippi, I got stopped by a policeman for speeding. Before he approached the car, I already had my driver's license and registration ready to give him. He said, “I won't need that, if you will agree to follow the posted speed limit. It's 50 here.” “Really,” I said, “I didn't know I was speeding. How fast was I going? “I clocked you at 62,” he said. I believe I told him I would obey the speed limit, and we left—no ticket, no written warning, nothing. He didn't even lecture me about safe driving. Ann provided the lecture. That saved us some time, because I was driving (slowly) toward Tunica during the lecture. We arrived safe and sound at about 5:00 pm. There were no rooms at the casino, so we got a room at a “condo” a couple of miles away. We had time to have some wine and relax and enjoy ourselves a little before the concert, which started at 8:00. We drove to the casino and had dinner before the concert. The concert was great. Our seats were on the 4th row. The music was loud and we didn't take ear plugs. I lost some of my hearing, I'm pretty sure. Levon Helm's music is hard to describe. It has elements of country, folk, blues, rock and roll, and blue grass. Whatever it's called, it was good. Levon grew up in Arkansas less than 50 miles from Tunica. In fact, on our way there, we drove through Marvel, where he attended high school. This was the first time I remember seeing Levon Helm, although it is very likely that I saw him perform when I was in college. He played drums in Ronnie Hawkins' band. Hawkins, another Arkansas musician, played at the Rockwood Club in Fayetteville, which I attended many times. In addition to being a musician, Levon has been in over 15 movies, including one I remember him in. He played Loretta Lynn's father in “Cold Miner's Daughter”. Helm played the drums during the concert but didn't sing much at all. He didn't even introduce the songs or the band members. That chore was performed by band member, Larry Campbell, who played lead guitar. There were 10-12 people in the band, including Levon's daughter Amy. I have 2 of his albums, both Grammy winners. Dirt Farmer won a Grammy for Best Traditional Folk Album of 2007. His recent album, Electric Dirt, won a best album Grammy for the newly created American category in 2010. If any of my friends would like to borrow one of these CD to see if you like the music, I would be pleased to loan them. Visit with the Bridges of Richmond (4/19/2010): We
had a great visit with Matthew, Ann, Nathan and Madeleine. Amy drove
down from Washington for the weekend, and we had a great visit. The
babies were so much fun and seemed to love us as much as we love
them. The are really beginning to talk a lot and are able to speak
phrases and sentences. They are amazing. Of course, we knew they
were smart! Matthew
and Ann recently bought a house and moved a few weeks ago. The house
is really nice, and they had the entire inside painted before moving.
It's big—about 4 times the size of the little house where they
were living. So, they are enjoying the extra space. The
neighborhood is very pretty. There is lots of green space behind
their house including a little creek. There are many tall hardwood
trees in their back yard—a gorgeous setting.
Let's have a pity party (3/28/10): Some of us have not had a good week! Let's start with me. I've had a cold all week. It started very suddenly one week ago with a sore throat. Within a matter of minutes, I went from having no symptoms to having a very, very sore throat. That was followed by sniffles, congestion, achiness, etc. I felt awful for several days; that led to me being a sourpuss and an ass. I'm sure I wasn't pleasant to be around. When I'm sick, I like to hibernate. I don't need advice, I don't need sympathy. I need to be left alone, so I can wallow in my misery. I didn't go anywhere (not even the Nursing Home) for a couple of days. I didn't ride my bike all week; I only went for a walk once. I would have medicated myself with a little (or lot of) wine, but I was not having any alcohol for 2 weeks following the insertion of my tooth implant. I'm much better now. I've emerged from hibernation; I'm trying to be nicer. Tomorrow will surely be a wonderful day. Amy apparently caught my cold. I can't explain how, since she lives over 1000 miles away. Maybe it's due to some supernatural transference through the ether. Or, maybe it's a cold pandemic! Admittedly, I haven't ruled out a simple coincidence, but “I'm just saying...” Nevertheless, the onset was eerily the same as I experienced. She described going from having no sore throat at all to having the worse sore throat she's had as an adult in a matter of a few minutes. Her throat was so sore that she was convinced that she had strep throat. She went to the doctor who did a strep test, which was negative. She got better after a few days, coldwise. However, she continues to be plagued by back pain and is seeing a physical therapist and a pain doctor. She deserves better than this. Mama has been pitiful most of the week. She is taking antibiotic for a bladder infection. She had just finished a round of antibiotic for a bladder infection last week. Once she finished the antibiotic last week, the doctor ordered another urine test to be sure the infection was cleared up. It wasn't. So, she was given a prescription for another 10 days of antibiotic. Either the infection or the antibiotic or a combination of the two, have caused her to feel terrible—both physically and mentally. Once this week, after I have visited her in the morning, she called me that same afternoon and wanted me to come and “sit with her.” “I'm sick,” she said. I went there to “sit” with her, but she couldn't stay in one place for more that a few minutes. She admitted having anxiety. She is also more depressed than usual. She has a fever blister on her lip! She keeps saying, “I don't know what to do.” She also said that she is dying a little bit at a time. And, today said she wished she could die. I talked to the Physician's Assistant about Mama's anxiety. She didn't want to give Mama anything for that and I didn't insist. I think Mama improved toward the end of the week, but today, she was still sad and blue. I believe that her symptoms are consistent with an infection. Also, from past experience, I know that the antibiotic she is taking now (Levaquin) makes her feel awful. Mr. Stover is convinced that the person who is taking care of his business is stealing his money. It's a very complicated story, and I don't know much about the details. However, he was apparently told by a friend that there is reason to believe that his money has been mismanaged. That put him into a state of anxiety. He has been talking to the social director at the nursing home who has arranged to have someone come and given him an accounting of his finances. When I asked him yesterday if he had received any information. “They're working on it,” he said as he rolled his eyes. The tone of his voice oozed skepticism. New Underwear (3/20/10): (Note: When I told Ann that I was going to post something about my new underwear, she said she wouldn't post anything about underwear. So for your information, never come to this site expecting to hear any mention of anything about her underwear.) Ann bought me some new underwear several days ago. They are boxer briefs, a cross between boxers and whitey tighties. When I wore a pair for the first time, I couldn't believe that these underwear did not have an opening in the front like most underwear. I looked several times to be sure but couldn't find the opening and concluded that this type of garment had no openings. At lunch with Ann and her mother, Juanita, I mentioned that the new underwear were strange—no opening in the front to accommodate 'you know what'. My mother-in-law even commented that the underwear were basically like panties. You would have to pull them down when you needed to go. I didn't like the idea of wearing underwear similar to panties. So, later in the day I searched again for an opening and found it in the back! Either that or they put the tag in the front. I decided it's better to wear the shorts with the tag in the front rather than wear them like a pair of panties. Comments:
Lamar
B: I'm not only confused, I'm getting a little worried about you
nephew Bob. The Bridges were not known to wear too many styles of
panties--men that is. I'll surely be praying for YOU.
U T
Nancy D: That is a real "undercover" tale for sure, Bob! It would seem that it's a "tag or no tag" affair or no seam at all, it would seem!! Glad it all "turned out" in the end or beginning, whichever way it falls. Nancy Denby 3/29/10 Childlike Behavior of the Elderly (3/16/10): The more time I spend at the nursing home (daily visits add up) the more I appreciate how the elderly have characteristics of children. Most people in the nursing home are dependent on others to help them with day to day activities; many wear diapers. As you've probably heard before, when our parents become very old, our roles become reversed compared to when we were very young. Mama helped me to the toilet when I was a baby; now, I sometimes help her to the toilet. The minds of the elderly show regressive changes as well. You must explain some things more completely, their power of reasoning diminishes, and sometimes they exhibit fascination about simple things much like a child. Several days ago a man in the nursing home, I'll call him Mr. Smith, was sitting in the dining room at Mr. Stover's table. As I wheeled Mr. Stover up to the table, Mr. Smith had a big grin on his face. “Do you want to see a big butt?” he said, almost giggling. The object of his fascination was a middle aged women across the room tending to her loved one. Her butt wasn't exceptionally big, but she did have on very tight pants. Unfortunately, Mr. Stover was unable to understand what Mr. Smith said. So, Mr. Smith started repeating himself in a louder voice, not caring if everyone in the room heard. I was able to tell Mr. Stover in a loud whisper what was going on. He looked around, but was not very impressed with the “big butt”. Mr. Smith just kept grinning and looking, sometimes pointing. I couldn't help but think that this behavior could have come from a boy, suddenly aware of and amazed by some girl's butt. The next day, Mr. Smith was sitting at a table in the dining room where Mama eats. He was holding a magazine with the pictures of 3 women on the cover. It could have been Glamor or Good Housekeeping. Mr. Smith was kissing the pictures of the women. He would kiss one for a while, come up for air, look at the women, and kiss another one. This went on for a several minutes while I was there with Mama. No French kissing, thank goodness; that would have been a bit messy. At one point, Mama turned around and saw him. “What is that man doing?” I told her I thought he was kissing the pictures of women on the magazine cover. She was disgusted, and turned away quickly. Again, I could imagine that a pubescent boy might venture to kiss a pretty woman, even if it were only a picture in a magazine.
When we lived in Wisconsin, we went to McDonald's to get a hamburger and fries. When the food came, attendant said “Would you like a bag for this?” You may already know this but people from the upper Midwest--Wisconsin, Minnesota, Chicago--pronounce “bag” and “beg” the same way. That is especially true if you are from the South. A person from the South cannot distinguish between those 2 words spoken by a Midwesterner without context clues. In the South, we don't clip our vowels. We like to get the full value of each vowel, so we stretch them out a bit to savor their goodness. If you are a native of the upper Midwest, I challenge you to say the words “beg” and “bag” aloud, and listen to yourself. So, when the woman asked me if I wanted a bag for this, I replied, “Do I want to beg for this? I was planning on paying full price. Am I going to have to beg for it too?” Then, I glanced around to see if anyone else was begging for their food—hands together, kneeling... Perhaps, seeing my confusion, she held up a bag. “Oh, a sack!” I said. “Yeah, I would like a sack for this.” Implant (3/12/10): Yesterday, I had a tooth implant. It replaces one of my four front teeth, the one next to the left canine. The tooth has been missing since I was about 18, and for over 45 years I've worn the same false tooth connected to a metal partial plate. This was no emergency. First, a little about how I lost the tooth. I broke the tooth while hauling staves. A stave is a white oak plank made with a cylindrical saw. When staves are placed together side by side they form a barrel. The barrels might have been used for making fine bourbon, but I don't really know. There was a stave mill in Plainview and my dad hauled staves from Plainview to Russellville and loaded the staves on a railroad car. Once when I was helping him load staves onto a rail car, one of the staves fell back and hit me in my mouth as I was lifting it onto the top of the stack. That broke the tooth. I had the tooth pulled and the false tooth made in Fayetteville, where I went to college. During the implant procedure, I was given anesthesia—out cold—and Novocaine. I was given the choice to have the procedure done using only local anesthesia. The doctor recommended against that and I followed his recommendation. I was told that having anesthesia would be similar to being put to sleep during a colonoscopy. After a colonoscopy when I woke up from the anesthesia, I did so quickly. I was alert and felt no lingering effect of having been asleep. I passed a little gas, got up and walked out unassisted. This experience was completely different. When I woke up, I was vaguely aware that people were talking. It was hard to focus, hard to move, and hard to talk. I had to have help to get of bed, put on my shirt, and walk to the car. After stopping by the pharmacy to get pain medicine and antibiotic, we got home about noon. I went straight to bed and slept all afternoon. Once when Ann came in to check on me, she discovered that I had bled onto the pillow. After she gave me more gauze to place on the site of the implant, I went back to sleep. I got up about 5:00 pm. I was hungry, because I had had nothing to eat or drink since the night before. Then, I had an amazing turn of good luck. I learned that my mother-in-law had made chicken and dumplings. After about 3 second of careful analysis, I determined that chicken and dumplings must surely be one of the soft foods—in the same softness class as Jello, pudding, and ice cream. Therefore, I had a couple of bowls of chicken and dumplings, and some other soft foods—chocolate pudding and ice cream. After the food and a couple of the prescription narcotic pain pills, I felt great!! This morning I feel fine; I won't need a pain pill. Hoers and Whores (3/9/10):Recently, a friend of mine, Dave, reminded me of a story I told him once from my childhood. It has to do with the use of words, specifically homonyms. In this case, hoers and whores. I grew up on a farm, and one of the crops that we cultivated was cotton. Cotton is an awful crop, because in the old days, cultivating it was very labor intensive. Cotton was planted with a 'planter' on a tractor, which automatically deposited the cotton seeds in the ground. A good outcome of planting cotton (a good stand) was a continuous line of cotton plants, one plant next to another, along the entire row. However, with the plants so crowded, they could not grow properly. Therefore, the plants had to be thinned, so the resulting spacing would be about 4 – 6 inches between each plant. This thinning process could only be done by hand. Workers would go down each row with a hoe and remove or chop out the unneeded cotton. Daddy hired people, almost exclusively women, to help with this chore. This chore was referred to as chopping cotton. Workers were cotton choppers. You could refer to the process as hoeing cotton. However, nobody ever referred to the persons who did the work as cotton hoers (for obvious reasons). Except for teenage boys. Some how, we thought that talking about hoers was funny. Imagine that! I had the bright idea that I could use the term hoers in conversation with my dad to see what reaction that would elicit. There were at least 3 possible outcomes.
We were driving along, discussing things, man to man. Something came up about the need to finish getting all the fields of cotton chopped. Then, I said, “Maybe you could hire some more hoers.” He looked at me with a glare that could have melted icebergs, “Did you mean to say hire some more cotton choppers?” “Yeah, that's what I meant, hire some more people to chop cotton.” I prayed to myself that he would let it go. After that exchange, I didn't make eye contact. I'm sure I changed the subject. The fact that he let the whole thing pass with just that one statement, was a miracle. I could have, at a minimum, received a lecture about using foul language. I would have preferred outcome #2, but I felt I accomplished a small victory. I said whore/hoer in his presence. It's a homonym. Pick whichever definition you choose.
Little Rock Marathon (3/7/10): They had the marathon today without me. Dammit! I had trained (a little bit) for it, I paid the $65 entry fee, picked up my packet of information yesterday, mapped out where to park, figured out what to wear, and psyched myself up to endure whatever amount of pain that would surely occur. Then yesterday, I got a pain in my lower abdomen. The pain was persistent all day. I even tried a few steps of vigorous walking to see if the pain got worse. Movement definitely exacerbated the pain, but I convinced myself that I could manage that amount of pain for the 3 hours or more that it would take me to walk 13.1 miles (half marathon). Then, late in the day the pain got worse, and after dinner I decided to go to the emergency room and see a doctor. The end of the story: I drove my self to the ER (Ann was away), checked in and waited my turn. The first part of the stay went pretty fast (fast is a very relative term; speed in an ER is measured in hours, not minutes). They did a blood test, a urinalysis, and an X-ray. All tests were normal. Two doctors examined me and asked question after question. They could not find anything wrong. After a little over four hours, I was released, given a prescription for pain medicine, and advised to see my primary care physician. The doctor said he would give me something for pain. I thought he would hand me a pill. Instead he gave me a prescription for some pain medicine. It was midnight; did he think I was going to drive around Little Rock until I found an all night pharmacy to get the medicine? Instead, I came home and took a Percocet that I was given for pain several years ago. It worked. This morning the pain is still present but much less than yesterday. My abdomen is still very sore to touch. I've got the blues from being sick and missing the marathon. The rest of the story: The pain actually started about a week ago. The pain was very low in the very center of my abdomen—just above the pelvic bone. By yesterday the pain had moved to left of center. At first, I thought it might be coming from the bladder. On Monday, I called the our Family Clinic, because I wanted to see a doctor. I was told that there were no openings. I asked if I could come there and be “worked in”. I was told that I could and that I would see a doctor, but not necessarily my doctor, if there happens to be a cancellation. Eventually, I asked “What happens if I come there and there are no cancellations? Might I wait there all day and never see a doctor”. A sweet voice replied, “Yes, sir, that could happen.” That's when I hung up. Next, I called my urologist. Maybe he could check to see if I had a bladder infection. I was told that there were no openings, but that they could “work me in” if I came to the clinic in a couple of days. That's when my lecture started about how I would just wait until I got really sick and then I would go to the emergency room (Actually, that's what happened!). The next day, I called the Family Clinic again, but this time I left a message with the nurse. The nurse called back that same day or the next, and I explained my problem. By now, I had my lecture about seeing my doctor versus going to the emergency room down pretty well. I lectured the nurse. She said that it's possible that the doctor would prescribe an antibiotic, and she took my pharmacy information. I asked if she would call and let me know if the doctor ordered an antibiotic. No, I was told to check with the pharmacy. I did. No antibiotic. In a day or two, the nurse called me again to say the doctor had replied to the information she was sent about my problem. The doctor wanted me to come to the clinic for a urinalysis and possibly some blood tests. Then, the nurse transferred me to the scheduler to set up the appointment. I was on hold for about 45 minutes (due to the unusually high call volume, you may experience a lengthy delay... your call is very important to us, please stay on the line, someone will be with you shortly!!!). That process yielded an appointment for tomorrow at 11:00, and a spike in my blood pressure that caused me to see red. Now, after all that, I don't need to keep that appointment, I had all the tests done at the ER. At the ER, I was able to give my lecture to several people about me coming to the ER because I couldn't see any other doctor. The triage nurse, the ER nurse, and the ER doctor received enlightenment. I didn't get a lot of follow-up questions, but I didn't receive any negative comments either. By the way, the ER doctor's only recommendation was to follow up with my general practice doctor. Now, I wonder if he was listening during the lecture, but I didn't say anything.
Insurance Companies Rule (3/4/10): I hear a lot of talk these days during the debate about health care reform about how, if the legislation passes, the Government would take over health care. I'm sure there are many aspects of the legislation (as would be the case for any act of Congress) whereby the Government would specify how things operate. I'm not prepared to debate the entire proposed health care bill. However, I continue to hear statements by opponents of health care reform, like “Would you rather have your Doctor or a Government bureaucrat make decisions about your health care?” Well, as it stands now, it appears that the insurance companies specify many aspects of the type of care you receive, provided you have insurance. Perhaps, a better question would be, “Would you rather have the Government or the Insurance Company make decisions about your health care?” Case in point. Mama is old; she has bad arthritis in her shoulders and knees. She is in constant pain. For well over a year, we have been talking to the Doctors about trying to find a suitable pain medicine, so she doesn't have to endure so much pain. We say, “A 93-year-old woman should not be in constant pain.” She has been on several different medicines. The most recent one is a Fentanyl patch, which seems to be working. Fentanyl is a narcotic, usually prescribed for people with chronic pain—like Mama. When Mama started on Fentanyl, the insurance company sent a letter saying there were problems with payment for this medication. They said that because of a Government regulation, they would provide coverage for a 30 day supply (thank God for a Government regulation), but any payment beyond that would be contingent on a pre-approval process. The letter, obviously written by a bureaucrat (insurance bureaucrat, not a government bureaucrat), made no sense. After several calls to the insurance company, I learned that Mama's doctor would have to call the insurance company and make a case for why Mama needed this drug. (I wrote the insurance company a letter with suggestions about how to communicate in a straightforward manner rather than “insurance companyese”. I didn't like having to make several phone calls to determine what the letter meant. But, that's another story). The insurance company policy is that if a case cannot be made sufficiently about the need for Mama to be on Fentanyl, the insurance company will not pay. For them to pay, Mama would have to go on “step therapy”, meaning she would have to try one drug after another to see if any of them worked before she could receive Fentanyl. I actually thought that her Doctor might consider all the other medications that may or may not be appropriate for Mama, considering all of Mama's other health information. Apparently the insurance company makes these decisions rather than the Doctor, and no insurance representative has ever spoken to her! I heard today that the request by Mama's doctor to use the Fentanyl patch for Mama's pain was denied by the insurance company. The step therapy program must be completed before the insurance company will pay for the medicine that Mama's doctor prescribed. Now, a 93-year-old woman must go through a series of medications to find one that relieves the her pain. I wonder how many months that will take. I actually hope that the government passes some type of health care legislation. And, I hope one feature of the bill will be a prohibition against insurance companies making decisions about a person's medical care. I had rather have that the Doctor make those decision. I think I'll call my Congressman or Senator!! News from the Nursing Home (2/28/10): Mama is doing pretty well, but she didn't have a great week. For several days she complained of not being able to breathe. She often was using the oxygen machine when I visited her. For a few days the weather was rainy and humid, which might have contributed to her breathing problems. Her legs/ankles were a little swollen, which is a symptom of congestive heart failure, a known issue with her. The nurse called to say Mama complained of not feeling well and of frequent urination, so they ordered a urinalysis, which was negative. She's 93. I believe she is doing as well as can be expected. Here's a Mama story. One day this week she told me she had been to a devotional that morning. She said she got restless and impatient and didn't stay for the entire service. She went on to say that the devotional was about Job (we've all heard about the patience of Job). Then, she realized the irony of the whole situation, and chuckled, “Well, I guess I could have been a little more patient and sat through the whole thing.” She hasn't lost her wit or sense of humor, thank goodness. Mr. Stover continues to tell me how much he likes the poster I made for him. He shows it to everyone who visits. Ann and I visited a couple days ago and attended one of the activities for the residents—an auction. Ann sat by Mama, I sat by Mr. Stover. Each resident was given $68 in play money to spend. Some were nodding off; some were staring into space. But, most seemed to be engaged—counting their money, for example. However, when the auction started most people wouldn't bid. They held onto their money, perhaps remembering the hard times of their past. Apparently they didn't realize that their money was play money, and that at the end of the activity they would have to give the unspent money back. Mama and Mr. Stover were not shy about bidding, and they were 2 of the most aggressive bidders. Sometimes they were bidding against one another. They both spent all their money. Mama bought a hand-crocheted afghan, a deck of cards, bracelets, and 2 books. She gave one of the books to me. Mr. Stover bought some cologne, bubble bath (very useful), soap (also very useful), a book (Flags of Our Fathers), an angel whatnot that sits on a shelf with her legs hanging off, and maybe a few other things, none of which he needed or wanted. But, he spent all his money, by God. He gave the book to me, and I asked him to autograph it, and he did (Smokey). I told him my sister collected angels, so he gave the angel to Judy. Judy actually like the angel and is displaying in a prominent place in her home. Ann, as a former teacher, thought the auction activity was great on a number of levels. As a pre-school teacher, she saw similarities between activities for the very young with activities for the very old. Everybody participates, there's interpersonal interaction (bidding against one another), manipulative exercises (counting the money), higher level cognition (should I bid or not), and other stuff I don't understand. One day last week, I happened to be visiting with Mr. Stover when his physical therapist came. Except this therapist was not his regular therapist, she seemed to be the supervisor. When she came, I said to Mr. Stover that I would leave while he had therapy, but he asked me not to leave, so I didn't. When the therapist started helping him walk, she ask me to push the wheel chair behind Mr. Stover, so in case he should fall, he would fall into the wheelchair. I complied. Quite a picture. The therapist was holding one to him by the special belt she put on him, and I right behind pushing the wheelchair a little bit behind. Mr. Stover tried very hard, and even though he had to rest a couple of times, he keep trying. He walked half way down the hall, which might have been about 50 feet. The therapist was very impressed, saying that when she first evaluated him, he couldn't really walk much at all. After we were finished with his therapy, I talked to the therapist. She said that his regular therapist had recommended that therapy be stopped. Because Medicare is paying for the therapy, this women was doing an evaluation to see whether additional therapy was warranted. I agree with that. Money should not be spent if therapy does not result in improvement. Though she was impressed by the marked improvement Mr. Stover had demonstrated, she said she would not certify additional therapy, because of the recommendation of the regular therapist. She said Mr. Stover often refused therapy or didn't try to complete all of the exercises. I told her that I had witnessed Mr. Stover refusing to participate in therapy. I also told her that Mr. Stover didn't like the therapist. Ever since he started having therapy, he has complained to me about the therapist—gruff, do this, do that. Mr. Stover says he is a horse's ass. I told her I was only a friend, not a family member, but that I would like to recommend that she not stop therapy. My argument was that he had improved substantially from therapy, he could most surely continue to improve, he was very depressed and that could influence how he approached therapy (I also told her that I had spoken with his Doctor who said that she had prescribed some anti-depression medicine), and that perhaps if he liked his therapist more he would do better. I also told her that I would encourage Mr. Stover to participate in all the therapy, in spite of the fact that he doesn't like the therapist. She told me that she would certify
Mr.
Stover for more therapy. We'll see... War (2/23/10): I'm tired of the war in Iraq; I'm tired of the war in Afghanistan. Every day newspaper articles describe the same things—suicide bombers, attacks in places I've never heard of, roadside bombs, IEDs, dead soldiers, dead civilians. I don't even read all the articles anymore. I'm inured by the never-ending conflict. When the first causalities were reported, we were sad, we wept. Now we hardly notice. We should be just as outraged by the last death as we were about the first. But, we are not. This is beginning to remind me of Viet Nam. The rationale and objectives become hard to understand. There seems to be no end in sight. I think we should end these wars sooner than later, and bring the brave military men and women home. On our expedition to Fayetteville we planned to walk around campus and find our names on the sidewalk. All graduates of the University of Arkansas have their names written on sidewalks around campus. It is fondly called Senior Walk. I told Mr. Stover that we would look for his name. He said he graduated in 1959. We have seen our names before, but we thought it would be interesting to see them again. We arrived on Sunday in time to walk around on campus before the concert. But, the champagne was already there and on ice, it was snowing and the wind was blowing about 30 mph, one thing led to another, and we didn't make it to campus. The next morning, I looked on the Internet and found the location of the sidewalks with our names. I also noted the general location of where Mr. Stover's name might be. I didn't believe that he graduated in 1959, so I located areas for graduates starting in the late 1940's. Mr. Stover told me that he went to college after serving his country in World War II. It was cold—about 20 and very windy. I know that people in Wisconsin or Minnesota would not consider that prohibitively cold, but I was under dressed. I had only a light jacket, no gloves, no scarf, no thermal under garments. Ann preferred not getting out of the car. However, we developed a plan, whereby she would drop me off in the general location of where I might find Mr. Stover's name. No need to look for our names; we had seen them before; we will see them another time. This was probably the last chance for Mr. Stover to see his name. Ann would drive around the block, while I looked for Mr. Stover's name. Fortunately, I was able to find his name on the sidewalk in less than 20 minutes, just as the cold really started to penetrate. I took some pictures. After I got home, I decided to prepare a “poster” for Mr. Stover to show his name on the sidewalk. It is 11 x 14 inches, and I framed it in a simple black frame.
I will hang it on his wall tomorrow. I had no hammer or nail today and suggested to him that I leave it in his room until tomorrow when I could hang it. But, he didn't want me to leave it lying around in case someone might take it. I brought it home. Click here to see the poster. Valentine's Day Celebration (2/15/10): To celebrate Valentine's day and my birthday, Ann and I went on a trip to Fayetteville yesterday to attend a concert by one of my favorite singers—Delbert McClinton (Click on his name; on the right side of the page, click on Delbert's Juke Box to hear one of his songs). The concert was at the Walton Arts Center (Walton as in Walmart), and we stayed a few blocks from the Arts Center on the square in downtown Fayetteville. We arrived about 3:00 pm to find a bottle of Champaign, chilled and ready, in our room, compliments of our sweet daughter, Amy. We drank the Champaign before taking a taxi to the concert—it was too cold and windy to walk. Actually, this Valentine's Day weekend has been filled with concerts. On Saturday night, we went to a performance by the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra. The concert featured vocalists singing Broadway songs, and we really enjoyed it. The tickets were compliments of my sweet sister, Judy. Before the concert we ate at a kind of fancy restaurant in downtown Little Rock. For Valentine's Day the restaurant served a fixed price, three-course meal for quite a lot of money. This is the third time this year we have seen Delbert perform. Last Valentine's Day we went with Kay and Robert to Billy Bob's in Fort Worth, TX. Amy also sent Champaign for that occasion. As a Father's Day present, Amy took us to the Birchmere in Washington to see Delbert. That's when Ann took my picture with him. Click here to see that picture. Last night before the concert, we ate dinner at a small restaurant across the street from the Walton Center. The food was great, and even with some wine, the meal cost a lot, lot less than what we paid the night before in Little Rock. The Delbert concert was great! The venue was very good—plush theater seats, good acoustics. I didn't like his selection of songs quite as much as that at the other concerts, but I'm not complaining. I could go on and on with details, but that's not necessary. We had a great time. We both woke up this morning with smiles on our faces. Happy Birthday (2/14/10): It all started 66 years ago today in Plainview, Arkansas. That's when I was born. We asked Mama about that day. The first question was “What time did you know you were going to have your baby?” “Oh, I knew the first night... ...that I got in trouble.” She chuckled. Although she remembered "that" night, she couldn't remember much about the actual birth. This much we know.
Mountain View (2/13/10):
Mountain View, AR
Ann and I spent one night in the place where she grew up. Her
mother is doing fine, a spry woman
of 86. We played dominoes (Forty-two) three-handed. North central
Arkansas was beautiful, showing off some of the snow that fell during
the
past week. I took several pictures.
One of the pictures shows some
daffodils that are almost ready to bloom. We have already seen
blooming daffodils here in Little Rock! The panorama picture
above is actually 3 pictures that I "stitched" together using free
software that I downloaded.
This was the first trip with the Droid to the hinterlands. I got good reception and was able to surf the Internet, get email, etc. I even bought and downloaded an album from Amazon.com using my Droid while I was there. I bought the album “A Stranger Here” by Ramblin' Jack Elliott. It won a Grammy for best traditional blues album for 2009. I think it is a pretty good album. I recommend it. It cost me $5.00! If you would like to borrow it to see if you like it, let me know. Too Wet to Pick Cotton (2/8/10): Since I posted pictures of the restored cotton picker tractor, I've been looking for pictures of the cotton picker. I finally found a slide and scanned it into the computer. It's not a great picture, but it shows Daddy on the cotton picker in a field of cotton, picking cotton. I showed the picture to Mama, and that reminded her of a story. She said in the fall of 1970, Daddy came in one day and said “It's too wet to pick cotton.” Because there had been a lot of rain, he reckoned that it wouldn't be dry enough to pick cotton for several days. He said “Let's go see Bob and Ann.” Bob and Ann lived in Hawaii, because I was in the Navy and stationed at Pearl Harbor. Mama said she bought some material, and she made a dress the night before they left to wear on the trip. When they got to Little Rock where they would board a plane for the flight to Hawaii, Daddy discovered that he had on shoes that didn't match. I believed he borrowed shoes from Uncle Tommy. All this is true; I couldn't make this up! Ann answered the phone when Daddy called from the airport. “Where's Bob?” “He's in the back yard washing his car. Where have you been, we have been trying to call you all day,” she said. He said “We're at the airport. Do you think you can come and pick us up.” That would be the airport in Honolulu. The phone call was the first we knew about their trip to visit us. We had been asking them to visit sometime soon, because I had received orders to Viet Nam. But, we didn't know they would come. I'm sure very few people knew about the trip beforehand, including my sisters. They traveled over 4000 miles, apparently pretty confident that we would be home. Did they think about checking with us first? They wanted to surprise us. Did they consider that we might not be home? Hawaii is an island; where could we have gone? How about over to visit friends or to an all day party somewhere? Since we were home when they called, the story had a happy ending. Daddy was greatly pleased by the circumstances of the surprise visit. They stayed about a week, and we had a marvelous time. We saw as much of the island as we could, which was just about every bit of it. Thankfully, I didn't have to travel that week and was able to take some time off during their visit. We took then to a fancy (for us) restaurant in Honolulu, called the “Inn of the Sixth Happiness”. I can't remember what we had to eat, but it wasn't Arkansas home cooking. I do remember that we had wine with the meal. I'm not sure why, because none of us drank alcohol at that time. Maybe wine was included with the meal. Nevertheless, Mama took a big gulp of her white wine and almost choked. “I thought it would taste like Seven-Up,” she said. Waiters in red jackets came from everywhere to check on her. Mama's Pain Medicine (2/6/10):
The nurses began to anticipate her question and would sometimes answer her question before she asked it. As a joke, one of the nurses made a sign, and told Mama she didn't need to ask for medicine. She could just hold up the sign. Click on the picture to see a larger version. I thought it was pretty cute. Earlier this week, the Doctor switched Mama to a fentanyl patch (an opiate) for pain. I could tell from the outset that Mama didn't like the idea of a patch. She thinks that her roommate wears a patch (she does, I checked with the nurses), causing her to sleep all the time. Mama doesn't want to do that. Otherwise, I'm not sure why Mama was concerned about a pain patch, but she was. After the first patch was applied, she took it off after a few hours. Mama said it itched and she didn't like it. Three days later (the patch lasts for 3 days, and a second patch couldn't be applied within 3 days) another patch was applied. This followed quite a bit of discussion between me and her. I tried to convince her that it might really help her pain. The nurse applied another patch, but Mama convinced the nurse to remove it after about six hours. It made her mouth feel funny. She didn't like it; it didn't help the pain. Yesterday, the Doctor and her Physician Assistant were making rounds while I was there, and I talked to the PA about Mama's refusal to wear the pain patch. We decided that one more try might be worth the effort, so the PA ask the Doctor to talk to Mama. She was very good to explain everything to Mama. Everything that Mama brought up about possible side effects, the Doctor countered. She convinced Mama to try the patch again for 1 week, and Mama agreed. So, tomorrow Mama will get another patch. We'll see... We have been trying hard for the
past
year or more to get Mama more pain relief. A 93-year-old woman
should not have to live in constant pain. I am the proud owner of a new Droid—Verizon's answer to the iPhone. I didn't want to get one, because I really don't need one. But, my wife wore me down. She just kept nagging. I finally succumbed to her substantial and almost mystical powers over me. We have the Verizon family plan and recently added a third line so Mama could have a phone at the nursing home. Amy gave me her old phone, which was better than the phone I was using. I gave Mama my old phone and was using Amy's old phone. Then, after Mama used the phone for a couple of weeks (I had used that phone for years already), it died. So, we were down to 2 phones and 3 people needing phones. My plan was to get a new free phone for myself (Verizon gives big discounts on a phone every 2 years if you will sign another 2-year contract) and give my phone to Mama. I did extensive research on free or almost free phones, but I couldn't any I liked. All the while, Ann kept saying I should get a Droid. I kept saying, “I don't need a Droid.” Yesterday, we went to the Verizon store to get a phone. That was the second time we had been to the Verizon store. I reviewed all the phones in the store. None of the regular phones were to my liking. Ann must have been able to sense my frustration (maybe it was because I bitched at the sale clerk about the poor choice of phones), because she went in for the kill. “It could be your birthday present.” “Anyone who is into computers and electronics like you should have a Droid.” On and on. I felt it coming but I couldn't stop it. I occasionally exit myself, the scientist, the rational, logical thinker and do something completely impulsive (see comment below). Within a couple of minutes I had chosen a Droid. Ann said, “Why don't you get this one?” “This one” was the more expensive choice. That's the one I got. I believe she also influenced my decision to add at texting option to our plan. “I can't text,” was my feeble reason for not buying the extra option. “Sure you can,” she said. OK... The Droid (and some monetary addition to our family plan contract) gives me unlimited access to the Internet, email, GPS, and over 10,000 other apps (applications). By the way, it's also a cell phone. We have a saying down here in the South about something that's really, really good--”It will do everything but whistle Dixie.” Well, by God, I bet I can find an app that will whistle Dixie! I got it yesterday and I've only had to take in once in the last 24 hours for assistance. I completely lost all my phone contacts. I could find everybody's email address, but no phone numbers. After all, this thing is a phone. I talked to it for a while, saying I don't want to email, I want to call somebody. And, a few other things, I won't repeat. I basically said to the Verizon technician. “I've lost all my phone numbers; I need my numbers back.” He pressed some buttons, scrolled through icons, probably accessed some hidden menus that I couldn't find, and said “Here it is; all ready.” “So, what happened?” I needed some answers. “You may have reset some options. But, you can import the phone numbers, if that happens again.” Meaning, I somehow screwed it up. Then, he showed me very simple way to import the phone numbers again. “Oh” Ann H. B. says: This is only the second time in 42 years of marriage that I have witnessed Bob doing something impulsively...the other being about 15 years ago when we stopped at a dealer's used car lot...test drove a cute little red Ford Probe, paid cash, and drove away. BTW.....he's still driving it. Amy says: Oh dear Lord in Heaven Above. You do so much for everyone else and don't ask anything from anyone anytime. Please enjoy the Droid. You deserve it.  Nancy D. says: Well, Bob, congratulations on your new miracle "cell phone" that does everything else. That was a smart thing that Ann talked you into doing...you probably should listen to her more often, especially when you aren't listening to your Droid. What a neat "gadget" for a neater guy! Happy Advance Valentine's Birthday, Bob! Mr. Stover Got Beat Up! (1/31/10):
Ann and I went to visit Mama at the Nursing Home yesterday. Mama was fine, but a tiny bit stressed. First, it snowed and the roads were icy, so we didn't visit her the day before. Second, her cell phone died (probably the battery) so she couldn't call me. I called the nurses a few times to check on her, but nothing works quite like a visit. We took her to one of activity rooms (the one with a piano) for our visit. I played the piano for a while. Then, Ann played. While Ann was playing, I went to check on Mr. Stover. As I approached his room, I could hear a banging noise. Mr. Stover was pulling his wheel chair back and forth to make a noise to get attention. I asked him if he needed help. He said, “I'm so glad you are here. Yes, I would like to get up.” I went to the nurse's station to get an aide to help him. I waited outside his room, while the aide attended to him. When he came out, I wheeled him to the activities room where Ann was still playing the piano for Mama. When I asked Mr. Stover how he was doing, he said, “A man beat me up.” Yikes!!! He said another resident, a man he knows, grabbed him by the shoulders, and pushed him against the wall and shook him, knocking his head against the wall. Oh, my God. Then, I asked him about a missing tooth that I had never noticed before. No, he didn't lose a tooth during the attack. I thought I could see a tiny bruise under one of his eyes. No, apparently the man didn't punch him in the face. “He just shook me by the shoulders”, he said. When I asked him why the man attacked him, he said, “He said that he didn't like the way I talk to the women.” After a little more discussion, I came back to the reason why he was attacked. I said, “The man attacked you just because he didn't like how you talk to women?” “That's right,” Mr. Stover said. “But, I also talk to men.” I went to the nurse's station and said to the nurse, “Mr. Stover told me what happened. Has everything been taken care of? Where is the man that attacked him?” She said, “Because of HIPAA, yada, yada, yada.” I didn't learn very much. But, everything is under control, she said. No more episodes are anticipated. Yada, yada, yada.... I should add a little context here. I do so reluctantly, and only because by doing so I provide a complete picture. In no way do I wish to condone or mollify what the old son-of-a-bitch did to Mr. Stover. I'm sure the other man is in the Nursing Home for a reason, and one of the reasons might be that he is demented. However, Mr. Stover is a “dirty old man”. I won't describe the details, but I know of several examples of things he has said or done that could be viewed as being offensive to women. It seems to me that most people don't take offense and often seem amused by what he does. Mr. Stover said that a nurse took him to the emergency room where he was given a CAT scan. Apparently, everything is OK, although Mr. Stover complained of a sore neck. He said his “custodian” came after the incident and “raised hell around here”. I asked Mr. Stover if he was fearful that the man might attack him again, and he said he was. Next week I will confirm whether or not Mr. Stover is afraid he will be attacked again. I'll pass along to the nurses whatever he tells me. Comments
Nancy D.--Yes, they at least need to know that someone (YOU) are aware of the things happening to Mr. Stover. I don't doubt for a minute that he is a "dirty old man," but they need to handle the situation and not let it get worse. You are a Godsend! Seeing the whole pic makes it easier, but understanding it and dealing with it says a lot for you. Keep
up the good work! My brother was
threatened by staff...not residents and it happened to him, not he to
them! He was helpless until we made official complaints.
Thanks for being you, Bob!
Cooking With Gas (1/29/10):
And, can you believe, she's Star-K certified and ADA compliant!! ADA compliant is important, in case in our old age we become physically impaired. Star-K certified means it's Kosher. She probably gets that certification because of the Sabbath mode feature. Yes, it has that too! It is comforting to know that if we ever have dinner guests who belong to certain conservative Jewish sect, we can provide food cooked on a Kosher stove. Of course, we might have to buy some Kosher food, but we will worry about that later. The Sabbath mode feature is
designed
for certain Jewish people who are not allow to cook on the Sabbath,
but are allowed to keep the food warm if it is already cooked. The
Sabbath mode
prevents the oven from automatically shutting off after a number of
hours. I suppose an observant Jew could turn the oven on the night
before the Sabbath and leave it on all day so they could warm the
food on the Sabbath. We don't need this feature since we are not
Jewish. Read more about the Sabbath mode here. I christened the stove last night by cooking salmon. I wanted to get a nice sear on the fish, so I turned the burner up to high and heated the oil really hot. When I put the fish in the pan of hot oil, a bit of oil splattered on the stove. The hot skillet worked very well to sear the outside of the salmon. After searing the fish, I added some lemon juice, lemon zest, some honey and dill to add additional layers of flavor. The moisture from these ingredients caused more splattering. I underestimated the temperature of the pan, so the honey started to scorch just a tiny bit. It didn't ruin the fish, but some smoke was produced, which set off the smoke alarm. My sous chef (aka Ann) declared a disaster, due to the ear-piercing sound from the smoke alarm. The salmon tasted pretty good; the scorched honey didn't ruin the flavor, in my opinion. With some strong detergent and lots of “elbow grease”, we were able to clean the stove so that it looks almost like new. The sealed burners and the superb porcelain finish really facilitated cleanup. That dog's a wolf!! (1/27/10): Yesterday, when I went to take pictures of Daddy's old tractor, I encountered a wolf. (See entry for 1/26/10). It was in the yard running around with some dogs. When I said, “Bud, that dog looks like a wolf!”. Bud said “That is a wolf.” After learning that the dog was a wolf, I didn't say anything. That could indicate that I was very cool. Ho, hum. A wolf. No response needed. However, thinking back, I really wish I would have produced some kind of a response. Since then, I have thought of a few things I wish I would have said. “A wolf! Really. I love wolves. May I pet it?” “A wolf! What's it's first name? Big Bad?” “A wolf! Does it eat many of your calves?” or “What do you feed it? Baby calves?” “A wolf! Does everyone around here have pet wolves?” “A wolf! Do you ever put it on a leash when company comes?” I'm sure some of you can suggest an appropriate comeback to the comment “That is a wolf!” Or maybe you have a favorite response that I have proposed. Nevertheless, I would like to hear from you. If you have a good suggestion that's no too gross (some grossness will be allowed), I will post your comment, if you wish. Farmall Cotton Picker Tractor (1/26/10): Yesterday, we took a trip to Plainview to take pictures of one of Daddy's old tractors that has been restored. Uncle Thelt and Dee went with Ann and me. I learned about the restoration from one of my high classmates back in the summer. I got an urge recently to go see the tractor, and it's a good thing I did. The tractor will be sold to a man from Kentucky later this week! Daddy bought the cotton picker after I left home, because when I was at home we picked cotton the old way—by hand! He probably bought the cotton picker in the early to mid 60's, certainly after 1962 when I left home. I don't remember ever seeing it in operation, but I remember Daddy describing how it worked. For years, it sat behind the barn. After Daddy died, my brother, Bill, sold it or gave it to a local man, who eventually sold it to Bud Potter, who restored it. Bud showed us the tractor. As we drove up to Bud's place, I remarked that I hoped that Bud didn't have any dogs. As I got out of the car, I saw a big dog that looked like a wolf lurking along the side of the yard. He didn't approach the car so I went up to the house to see Bud. Later, I said, “Bud, that dog looks like a wolf!” He said “That is a wolf.” Oh my God... I took a picture. The tractor a McCormick Farmall 400 model with LP Gas. Bud said he thought it was a late 50's model. The 400 model also came with diesel or gasoline. Bud said it took a little effort to get the motor unfrozen, but other that than the biggest chore was to reverse the transmission. When the cotton picker was on the tractor, the tractor ran backwards and had 5 reverse gears and 1 forward gear. He had to change the gears to make it run like a regular tractor. As you can see from the pictures, he left the rear axle as it was with the cotton picker, which causes the tractor to be high off the ground. Enjoy the pictures of the tractors. Click here for the pictures. I also took a picture of Salem Methodist Church where I went to church growing up, a picture of the house where I grew up, and a picture where Daddy grew up.
Mama's Room (1/25/10): Mama's room at the nursing home seems small (they're all the same size) and dark. She has a roommate, and Mama's side of the room is near the window. You must walk past her roommate's space to get to Mama's space. There is a sliding curtain that separates the two spaces. The roommate's bed touches the curtain. Her side of the room seems bigger than Mama's. Some of Mama's space is taken up by the heating/cooling unit. Although all the rooms are the same, we felt compelled to mention the smallness and darkness of Mama's room when we talked to the staff recently. Roxanne, the social services director, said that if another room becomes available she would let us know, and we could decide if we wanted Mama to move. There is good news and bad news about Mama's roommate, which should be considered before we commit to moving her. The good news is her roommate is very hard of hearing and she sleeps all the time, so Mama can do what she pleases without disturbing her. The bad new is her roommate is very hard of hearing she sleeps all the time, so Mama can't interact with her at all. Roxanne stopped me in the hall a few days ago and said that another room was available if Mama would like to move. She said “Her roommate would be Ms. Oslin. She is a nice lady, but she can be a little abrupt at times, and, for example, might tell her roommate to turn down the TV.” I told her I appreciated of her assistance in locating an alternative room for Mama, and that I would let her know later whether I thought Mama should move or not. I promised to talk to Mama and to my sisters. Ms. Oslin's name is Ed Irene. As far as I know, she uses both names. Maybe it's a southern thing, like Billy Bob or Martha Lou. I don't believe I've ever know a woman named Ed. Nevertheless, we know her pretty well. She sits at Mama's table in the lunch room. She is sweet. She is not demented. She can speak, intelligently. She's old. She's moves about in a wheelchair. She is not a big talker, but she can talk. She can hear. She will occasionally smile. She can play dominoes. She is a matter-of-fact kind of woman. At times, she is on the verge of being very gruff. I imagine she takes shit from nobody. Mama knows all this. I told Mama that she could move to another room if she wanted to and that her roommate would be Ms Ed Irene. Mama didn't show much of a strong reaction at first. She said, “Ed Irene can be a little bossy.” I told her she didn't have to decide immediately but that she should think about it for a few days. A couple of days later, as we were passing by Ed Irene's room, I encouraged Mama to go in and look at the room and talk to Ms. Ed Irene about the possibility of moving in with her. Mama did. I didn't go in. When Mama came out, I asked her what she thought. She said, “Ed Irene said 'This is not a good idea; don't do it!” Okey Dokey. That's then end of
that. Mama said she didn't want to move. If Ed Irene didn't want her as
a
roommate, she didn't want to move there.
Mr. Stover has the Blues (1/23/10): As I usually do, I visited with Mama and Mr. Stover at the nursing home today. Mama was in great spirits, saying she thought she was receiving a new pain medicine that really helped her arthritis pain. She is, in fact, receiving prednisolone (a type of cortisone) for 6 days to treat a rash on her arm. That could be helping her arthritis pain. Nevertheless, she didn't complain about pain very much today. Mr. Stover, on the other hand, wasn't having a very good today. I sat with him for quite a while during lunch. He didn't talk a lot. He said he just wanted to cry all day. When I asked if he knew why he felt like crying, he said he was thinking of his mother, who died in January. Otherwise, he said he was just blue. Then, he said he prayed that he could die. He has told me on several occasions that we wanted to die. I was ready to leave, but after hearing that I thought I would stay a little longer. However, I couldn't think of any appropriate to say, so I just sat with him. He said that his neck was sore
today. When I asked if he slept in a bad position, he said it could
have
been that one of the aids jerked him around too hard. I questioned
him more about that, and he could not really remember a specific
incident where that happened. Whether he was handled roughly enough
to cause his neck to be sore or not, I can't tell. But, he obviously
believes that he is not being treated well. Although Mr. Stover was feeling blue, it didn't prevent him from saying something about the pretty woman resident at the table next to him. He leaned over to me and said “That's the prettiest woman in here.” Then, he said to her “That's a pretty blouse you are wearing. And, may I say that you are pretty as well.” I'm not sure whether she understood him, because she didn't respond. Or maybe she wasn't in the mood for an old man's flirtation. Three things I plan to do for Mr. Stover next week. I will tell the nurse that he is very depressed and ask her if he is taking any antidepressant medication, and if not, would she say something to the Doctor about his depression. Second, I will ask the dietary manager (I know her) if he can have ice cream like some of the other residents. And, third, I will report to the Director of Nursing about him telling me about his sore neck. Mr. Stover's Girl Friend (1/21/10): A couple of days ago, I was visiting Mama at Presbyterian Village and we were near the nurses station, when a man and two women got off the elevator that Mama recognized. She said, “The woman with a purse on her arm is Mr. Stover's women friend.” I noticed that they went to Mr. Stover's room and stood outside his door. I walked over to the room and introduced myself as Mr. Stover's friend. They recognized me as the person who bought Mr. Stover a pair of slippers. One apologized for not sending me a thank-you card as Mr. Stover had requested. One of the women was Betty, Mr. Stover's “women friend”, and she looked to be in her 80's. The others were Betty's son and daughter. Mr. Stover was still in bed, and while the aid was getting him up, we stood outside his door and chatted for a while. I learned from them that Mr. Stover had lived with Betty in her condo. Mr. Stover told me before he was living with a woman before he came to the nursing home. They also said Mr. Stover had talked about marrying Betty. After Mr. Stover got up, he didn't seem to be very happy to see any of us. I don't think he was having a very good day. Because I had already decided to trim Mr. Stover's fingernails that day, I wheeled him to an activity room. I also brought Mama to the activity room, so we all chatted while I trimmed his nails. But, Mr. Stover didn't have much to say. During this time, Betty's daughter mentioned to Mr. Stover that her mother was thinking about moving to Presbyterian Village. She said that she had checked with the staff, and that Betty could share a room with Mr. Stover but only if they were married. And she said to Mr. Stover, “But you said you didn't want to get married.” Mr. Stover didn't respond. She then said her mother could move into a room in the assisted living section and would be available to visit more often. Mr. Stover didn't say anything about that either. Betty's daughter had ordered a meal for her mother so she could eat lunch with Mr. Stover. Because there is no space at Mr. Stover's table in the lunch room, I proposed that they should have lunch in the activities room, and I brought their food trays to them. Mama and I left. The next day when we were giving Mama a manicure, she asked if Mr. Stover had any money. I told her I didn't really know how much money he had (he once told me a figure, but I'm not going to reveal it). She went on to say, “I think those women are after his money.” Hmmm. A very perceptive old woman, she is. When I saw Mr. Stover that same day, I ask him about the discussion about Betty moving in with him, which would require him to marry her.I said, "Mr. Stover, she doesn't look like she needs to be in a nursing home." He said “They are just after my money.” I said, “Mr. Stover, you aren't thinking about getting married, are you? It seems like if you wanted to marry her you would have done so while you were living with her?” He said, “That's right. I'm not
going to get married.” Comments
Manicures (1/20/10):Amy said: That makes
me blue that there are conniving people who would want to take
advantage of an old man like that. And also? I can't get
the mental image of old people toenails out of my head, so thank you
for that.
Mama likes to have her finger nails polished. When she lived at the assisted living facility at Good Shepherd, each week the activity directory would give manicures to the residents for free. They would sit around a table and talk while they waited their turn. Free manicure service is not provided at Presbyterian Village. The hair dresser usually gives manicures to the women residents when she does their hair. She charges $15. That seems outrageous to me, so I gladly polish Mama's nails. Today was manicure day. My assistant manicurist (aka Ann) assembled all the essential supplies for a manicure and placed them in a small plastic bag–acetone to remove the old polish, fingernail file, and an assortment of various colors of polish. I usually do the manicure by myself, but today my assistant helped. My assistant is unable to polish her own nails and gladly pays someone to do that for her, but she did a great job today for Mama. Mama chose a lovely shade of Rose for the polish, and Ann applied two coats of color and an application of a clear protective polish. Mama's nails looked great! Yesterday, I trimmed Mr. Stover's fingernails—no polish. He mentioned last week that he would like to have his fingernails trimmed. His nails were rather long. He said he had asked the nurses to trim his nails but they wouldn't do it. On Saturday, I brought fingernail clippers with me when I visited Presbyterian Village. When I got there Mr. Stover was in bed and couldn't get up without assistance. He usually gets up a little before noon for lunch. I ask the nurse if she would get him up a little earlier, because I wanted to trim his fingernail. The nurses looked at one another and started shaking their heads no. They proposed a number of reasons why I shouldn't trim his nails, such as I might nick him and he would bleed. Really? I said OK, I wouldn't trim his nails, but I ask the nurse to do it. She said she would. I told Mr. Stover that the nurse would clip his nails. He was doubtful. His nails never got trimmed. So, yesterday I trimmed them myself. I didn't ask permission this time. He didn't bleed. He appreciated the manicure. One of Mr. Stover's friends was visiting him while I was trimming his nails. She said she had asked the nurse once before to trim his fingernails and toenails. Thank goodness, Mr. Stover never asked me to cut his toenails. I don't do toenails. I've never even clipped Mama's toenails. I took her to a Podiatrist once and paid to have it done. Have you ever seen an old persons toes with really long toenails? I rest my case. I recently went in the crawlspace under our house and now have an aversion to crawlspaces. It is a nasty, dirty place and I might pay someone next time to go there to do a job even though I could do it. Call me a wimp, but I don't like going in dark, tight spaces with lots of dust and rat turds. What had happened was... We left on January 8 for Richmond to visit the babies. That date coincided with the start of a 3-day stretch of the coldest weather for the past 15 years. The temperatures were in the teens at night for 3 days and the highs were never above freezing. The morning we left we discovered that the pipes to the kitchen sink were frozen even though we let the water drip the night before. We went on our trip as planned, but I worried a lot, feeling that there was at least a 50-50 chance that the pipes would burst. I alerted the neighbors and ask Judy to come by the house each day to check to see if water was running from under the house. She even brought a tool to turn off the water at the meter by the street. The first time Judy came over, she found that the water was running just fine to the kitchen. That was hard for me to believe, because the temperature didn't get above freezing for the next 2 days. So, I continued to worry. Fearing that a pipe may have burst, I looked in the crawlspace as soon as we got home to check for water. I didn't see any sign that any of the pipes had burst, but I did see a lot of insulation hanging down from the floor joists. I decided that that was a chore I could do, so I went to the hardware store and bought stiff metal wires that are designed to hold up the insulation. I bought 50 of the wires, thinking that would be plenty. But, as I crawled deeper into the crawlspace, I found more and more sagging insulation. I ran out of wires. I also discovered that the clothes dryer vent pipe had come apart so that the dryer exhaust had been blowing into the crawlspace. That meant another trip to the crawlspace. The next day, I bought another 50 wires, got some duct tape and headed back into the crawlspace. I was able to repair the dryer vent and reposition the insulation. Even though I wore a mask, I know I must have breathed in a lot of filth. I coughed a lot after I got out. The crawlspace is covered with plastic, and it was completely dry, even dusty. Although I didn't see any rats or other animals, rat pills were pretty abundant. While I was under there, I investigated where the gas lines were located. We are planning on buying a gas range, and I wanted to know if a gas line went to the kitchen. I didn't find one that did. However, checking on the gas line caused me to have to crawl all the way to the far end of the crawlspace. At least I can say that I've been just about everywhere under the house. So what. I don't feel like that's worth very much. Any thought that I may have had before going into the crawlspace about insulating the water pipes evaporated after the first 15 minutes in there. If the pipes need to be insulated, I'll hire someone to do it. Or, I could just go with the status quo. If this last cold spell was the first in 15 years, maybe the next one won't occur for another 15 years. If I'm still alive, I'll be too old to crawl under the house. I'll worry about it then. Nursing Home Care Meeting (1/14/10): Yesterday we had a meeting with some of the staff at Presbyterian Village. The purpose of this periodic meeting is to discuss the care of nursing home residents. Judy and I met with the Director of Nursing (DON), nutrition coordinator, activities director, the social services person, and the MDA (can't remember what that stands for, but she claimed to be the overall coordinator of care). We discussed Mama's chronic arthritis pain, which continues to be her biggest complaint. The DON suggested that there might be other medicines that could be tried, and she promised to discuss alternatives with the Doctor. We complained a little about Mama's room being small and dark. They said they would call us when another room is available in case we want Mama to move to another room. We discussed whether Mama should continue to receive “Mighty Shakes” (a high calorie drink like Ensure). We pay extra for this supplement. Mama had been receiving a high calorie drink before coming to Presbyterian Village, because while she was sick she lost weight. A few days ago I asked the nurse to stop giving her the Mighty Shakes, because Mama said she usually didn't drink them, and I didn't think she needed them. I would rather see her eat real food. Furthermore, she has gained about 10 pounds since coming to Presbyterian Village. Although the nutrition specialist didn't want to discontinue the shakes now, we insisted. We agree that Mama would be weighed more frequently (once a week I think) to see if she maintains her weight without the shakes. We also discussed the care Mama receives from the aids. She has complained in the past that the aids are slow to respond when she calls them. The DON wanted to know specific names of aids who don't seem to be responsive or “fuss” at Mama for calling too often. The activities director said Mama usually participated in most activities. We encouraged them to encourage Mama to participate in all the activities. We discussed whether Mama might benefit from physical therapy to help her maintain her ability to get up and use the bathroom and move around by her self. The DON said they would discuss therapy with the Doctor. I also spoke up on behalf of Mr. Stover. They told me that his family or custodian had not scheduled a meeting. In some ways I believe his care is inferior to Mama's. He said the nurses use harsh language with him, like “get up out of bed”, as they yank the cover off. Or, if he wants to get up, they sometimes say, “you can't get up now, you got up not long ago.” He told me that their tone of voice was worse than a drill sargent. He is totally dependent on the aids to help he get up and move around, whereas Mama can take care of herself to a certain extent. He claims that the aids won't come when he calls. Even when I personally ask for an aid to assist Mr. Stover, they take a very long time to come. Once when I visited him, I could not find his call button, and he was tugging at his wheelchair trying to make noise. It's sad that the more help a person needs, the less responsive the aids are. I plan to learn the names of the aids who are not kind to Mr. Stover, and file complains until something changes. Mr. Stover's Christmas Present (12/20/09): When I visited Mama yesterday in the Nursing Home, there was an old man sitting in a wheel chair near the nurse's station. As I walked by, he spoke to me saying that he was cold. He said that someone had taken his slippers and that his feet were very cold. He said that he would pay me if me if I would buy him some slippers. So, I said, "Did you talk to the nurse about your slippers? Maybe they can find them." He said he had talked to the nurses and they couldn't find his slippers. "Did you tell your relatives that come to see you about your missing slippers?" "I have no relatives that come to see me. They have all died," he said. He said that he was 98, and that he had outlived all his relatives. "Who takes care of your business; maybe they could help you with your slippers," I said. He said, "The bank takes care of
my business." I said, "Mr. Stover, I brought you a present." I could see that he had found his slippers; they were on his wheel chair. He said, "You shouldn't have brought me anything." I said, "Mr Stover, it's
Christmas. Everyone should have a present on Christmas, even if it
is a little early." He smiled. We didn't open the present. I saw him this morning when I went to visit Mama. Mr. Stover was wearing the slippers. I asked him if the slippers fit. He said “Yes, they are perfect; very warm and quite nice looking. I slept in them last night.” We chatted a little more and he talked to Mama and Judy. It turns out he is only 88, not 98. Mama knows his sister who lives in Casa; they were in the Eastern Star together. He told me today he was happy he met me. “I need some male friends,” he said. I can appreciate that. Over 90% of the residents are women, and almost all the nurses and aids are women. There are very few men in a nursing home. As I left, he reiterated that he hoped I would visit him again. He asked me to write my name and phone number on a piece of paper, which I did. Arky 100 (9/12/09): Yesterday I rode in the Arky 100, a bicycle tour sponsored by the Arkansas Bicycle Club, of which I am a member. The ride was in Sheridan, a small town about 35 miles south of Little Rock. It is an annual ride, but this was the first time I participated. I rode in the 100K ride--62 miles. The weather was cold (in the low 50's at start time) and overcast. I wore the right amount of clothes but couldn't prevent getting a little sweaty, which made me feel even colder. The course was scenic but a bit hilly. This wasn't a great ride for me. My stomach felt a little strange (I felt a bit queasy) at the start, but I never got sick. I must say that I thought quite a bit about puking, not because I was feeling really sick, but because on a 4-hour ride, there is a lot of time to think. I just wondered, in case I get sick, would I stop at the first thought of puking, or would I just puke and then stop. Fortunately, I never got sick. For the first half of the ride, I pushed myself to ride at a fast pace, drafting behind riders I could barely keep up with. As the ride progressed (and the hills seemed to get steeper), I found myself constantly checking to see have much farther I must ride. I got a pain in my left leg behind my knee, which bothered me for most of the ride. As usual, I tried to ride with other riders, but that is not always possible. There were long stretches when I could not see another rider, either in front of me or behind. I rode the last 8 or 10 miles with a friend (an old man from the retired group), and he was struggling about the same as I. After the ride, hamburgers and hot dogs were served. Since I didn't get sick during the ride, I had a hamburger... and a hot dog. I was so hungry. Today, my leg is still sore behind my left knee. I don't know if I pulled a muscle or strained a tendon, but something is wrong. I guess I will take it easy for a day to two until the pain subsides. My overall average was 16.4 mph. Not great, but considering that I was a bit queasy and had a sore muscle, not too bad. Big Dam Bridge 100 (9/27/09): Yesterday I participated in the annual Big Dam Bridge 100. It's the probably the biggest bike ride in central Arkansas even larger than the Tour de Rock. There were about 2000 riders. The weather was great. With so many participants I wasn't able to find any of my friends to ride with. So, I rode alone a lot of the time; that is, with people I didn't know. During the ride I passed some people I knew, and saw some friends at the finish line. I rode in the 100 K ride, which turned out to be about 69 miles rather than 62. I averaged 17.3 mph, exactly the same as for the Tour de Rock. I worked a little harder yesterday, because I there were long stretches when I didn't draft behind another rider. I rode for several miles drafting behind 4 young women, but they eventually wore me out when we encountered some hills. They rode at 20+ mph. I felt pretty normal today. I skipped riding today and mowed the grass instead. Good Neighbors (9/16/09): Yesterday our neighbor next door called and said two of her boys wanted to come over and give me something. Shortly thereafter, Nicholas and Colman came and gave me a sealed envelope and went back home. The envelope contained a letter from Nicholas and a drawing from Colman. Click on the links and see what you think. I don't know how old the boys are. I suppose Nicholas is in elementary school. Colman looks too young to go to school unless its pre-school or kindergarten. I talked to their mother who said that this was the boys' idea and that she provided very little help. I was impressed by the letter on a couple of levels. First, it was very well written. I've worked with people with PhD's who can't string that many sentences together is such a coherent manner. Second, the thought was very special--that young boys would want to be neighborly. Since we share a driveway with the neighbors, I must pass their house to take our trash can to the street. Usually, when I retrieve my empty can, I bring the neighbors can at the same time and leave it in their driveway. Since the boys made me an offer I can't refuse, I guess I'm out of the garbage business. Maybe I can be the backup, in case they are not at home. The Class of 1962 (8/15/09): Yesterday I went to Plainview to have lunch with several of my classmates from high school. The affair was the brainchild of Gary Don, who thought it would be nice to have a gathering for Jimmie. Jimmie has severe arthritis and doesn't get out much any more. Jimmie also has poor eyesight from cataracts and seems to be in poor health generally. There were 24 members of our graduating class. Three were transfers from Ola, where they apparently were expelled for reasons I can't remember. One or 2 of them are now dead and nobody seemed to know the whereabouts of the other. Of the original class of 21 (not counting the Ola transferees) two have died. Margaret was murdered by her son; Shirley died of cancer. Otherwise, all were present at the luncheon except three--Roy Allen, Albert, and John Rainey. We had a great time. Someone suggested that our class seems to be closer than other classes; I'm not sure. However, back in May at the annual alumni banquet at the school, our class had more members present than any other class. Someone else said that the oldest members of the class must be Judy Kay and Betty, because they both have great grand children. I can't verify that, but it is possible. Do the math. We are all 65 or soon-to-be 65. Because my only grand babies are less than 2 years old, it is possible that some of my classmates have great grand kids that are older than my grand kids. I welcome a contest to see who has the cutest grand babies! Robert ask several of us about our military service, and we chatted a while about that. Our preliminary conclusion is that 6 of us were in the military, and 4 of us served in Viet Nam. Jim Tom was in the National Guard but didn't serve on active duty; the rest of us were in Army (2) or Navy (2) or Marines (1). Our original class had 14 boys, so less than half served in the military. However, when I tried to get a student deferment to attend graduate school, I was denied. The head of the draft board said, "Why should you college boys get to skip the military when all your classmates will have to go?" The truth is that all three of us that attended (and finished) college served in the military--100%. If you didn't go to college, your chances of avoiding the military was pretty good--less than 30% had to go. I'm still a little bitter about being drafted, but that's another story. Scorpion (6/30/09): I was stung by a scorpion last night. I was sound asleep in the bed at 4:00 am, and she stung me 3 times before I could subdue the creature. She got me once on the butt and twice on the thigh. The bites were about 6-9 inches apart. It is hard to imagine how she stung me 3 times before I could react; I must have been in a very deep sleep. Once I felt the sting, I jumped up and brushed the thing off me onto the floor. I turned on the light and proceeded to kill it. I would have normally used a double-bladed axe to kill the beast, but I had no axe by the bed. So, I used the back of my cell phone to crush it into the carpet. Ann woke up from all the commotion. I needed a chewing tobacco poultice to neutralize the venom, but I had no tobacco. Ann found some salve for insect bites and applied that to the wounds.
Tour de Rock (6/13/09): I rode 63 miles (100 K route) in the Tour de Rock. It is probably the biggest bike ride in Little Rock with several hundred participants. The ride started at 7:00 so the first part of the ride was cool. The temperature was about 90 by the time I finished, 3 1/2 hours later. I rode most of the way with a man that often rides with the retired riders on Thursdays. We rode at a pretty good pace of between 18 and 20 mph. My overall average was 17.3, which is good for me. My hip didn't hurt at all today. It was the fear that I could aggravate my hip pain that kept me from riding 100 miles. Several of my buddies rode that distance. Ann came to see me cross the finish line and took a picture of Henry and me as we crossed the finish line. A band was playing and bar-b-que was served. They also provided beer this year, and I thought that was a nice touch. One guy told me he read that drinking beer is a good way to recover from a long ride. I took his word for that. Tour de Valley (6/7/09): Yesterday I participated in the Tour de Valley, a bike tour in Russellville. We spent Friday night with Kay and Robert, so I wouldn't have to get up so early to get there by the start of the ride--at 7:30. I opted for the 100 K ride (62 miles). What a great day for a ride--nice and cool, not very much wind. The ride was part of a annual festival to support Boys and Girls Clubs. I estimate that about 40 or so riders participated in the 100 K ride. I was a little apprehensive about how hard the ride would be. Although Russellville is located near the Arkansas river, there are plenty of mountains nearby. I assumed that the course would not include many hills or mountains (otherwise the name, Tour de Valley, would not be appropriate). However, the announcement for the ride indicated that the ride could be "challenging". The course stayed in the river valley and never got to the mountains. There were rolling hills but none were very challenging. The only person I recognized was Janice, who usually rides with the retired group on Thursdays. She came just before the ride started and said she was riding only 40 miles because she had to return to Little Rock early for an appointment. For the first few miles, the group stayed together as we got out of town. Then, I saw that riders started to pull away, except for one other person. As the faster riders left, I rode up beside the other straggler and introduced myself. He was an older gentleman, named John. We rode together for the entire ride. By together, I mean, we would be riding side by side for a while. But, usually when there was a hill, I would leave him behind. Later he would catch up with me. Once when I stopped to pee, he passed me. Eventually, I caught up with him. I stopped at all the rest stops, he didn't. So, after the rest stops, he was ahead of me until I caught up with him. My overall time was good but not great--almost 16 mph. That's pretty good for me considering I didn't draft behind anyone at all. I have been having a slight pain in my hip. Last week the pain caused me to abort a 75-mile training ride in favor of the 45-mile ride. I felt a little (very slight) discomfort during the ride, especially during the first hour and the last hour. But, riding doesn't seem to aggravate the problem, so I will continue to ride. However, I have decided not to ride 100 miles next week in the Tour de Rock; I'll opt for the 100 K (62 miles) instead. It seems that I can ride 60 miles and not feel adverse effects the next day. Cycle for Sight (5/17/09: Yesterday, I participated in the first annual Cycle for Sight endurance ride. The ride course was on the Arkansas River Trail. This trail makes a big loop along the river in Little Rock and North Little Rock. One loop around the trail is 15 miles. The ride was advertised to be up to 7 loops, which would be over 100 miles. I rode 4 loops or 60 miles. I thought about staying home because of the weather. A thunderstorm passed through central Arkansas early in the morning, and the weather forecast predicted an 80% chance of rain during the morning. Because there has been lots of rain, I haven't had a chance to ride as much lately as I would like. So, I decided to risk getting wet just to be able to ride. There were fewer than 100 riders, but I saw some familiar faces. I rode most of the way alone because I didn't find anyone riding at my pace, which turned out to be about 15.5 miles/hour. I stopped after each loop and got some water and food. Starting around noon, a band played and lunch was served--hamburgers and hot dogs. The rain never came, but the sky looked ready to provide a deluge at any moment all morning. After the ride we drove to Plainview to the annual alumni day banquet at the high school. I saw several people I graduated with. In fact, our class, the class of 1962, had more alumni present than any other class. Tour de Cure (4/25/09): I rode 63 miles (a metric 100) today in a fund raising event for diabetes. Thanks to generous donations from family and friends, I believe I was the number 2 rider in terms of money raised. Diabetes is a horrible disease, so I was glad to do my part for a worthy cause. Today was a great day for a bike ride--warm but not hot; no rain. My only complaint was the the wind was a little strong. For most of the ride it was a crosswind. There was one 10-mile stretch where the wind was directly in our face. That was a killer. Because it was an out-and-back course, the wind was at our back some of the time. I unashamedly drafted behind anybody I could find. So, during most of the ride that was a big benefit and resulted in a fast time for me. My average speed was not a personal record, but I'm sure it was the shortest time I've ever ridden that distance. The ride took me 3 hours and 45 minutes, not counting the several minutes I was stopped at the rest stops. Because I rode faster than expected, Ann wasn't there when I crossed the finish line, so there are no pictures of that event. I called when I was about 8 miles from the finish, but by the time she got there, I had already finished (but just barely). However, she did take my picture in the park along the Arkansas River. We were served some good pork bar-b-que. It tasted great to me, because I was really hungry after the ride. According to my heart monitor, I burned over 2000 calories during the ride--a day's worth for most people. We ate with several of my friends that I ride with from time to time. Overall, a great day to ride for a good cause. New Bicycle (4/16/09):
Bike Ride Around Nimrod Lake (3/22/09): On Saturday I went on a 53-mile bike ride around Nimrod Lake (see map). The only problem with the ride was that it rained, so we got wet. It rained for the first hour or two of the ride. It wasn't a hard rain but a steady one, making the road very wet. The only thing worse than been wet is being wet and cold. The temperatures were probably in the upper 40's--cold for a bike ride. My hands and feet were numb. Because I was creating my own heat from riding, I didn't get “chilled to the bone”. My core temperature didn't fall. At Onyx (27 miles out) I stopped and took off my gloves and socks and wrung the water out of them. My hands were better after that. There were some very steep hills, mostly at the beginning. The ride went in a big clockwise circle around the lake, and the first part of the ride involved a lot of climbing. After about 10 miles we turned west on the “south Fourche” road. That part was pretty flat (rolling hills) until we got to Onyx. From Onyx to Rover there were lots of hills, but there was more downhill than uphill. As you can see on the terrain map, from the dam we rode up the mountain, across a high valley and down the mountain on the other side. We stopped at a service station in Rover (the first store of any kind since we encountered) and ate lunch. Because we stopped for several minutes at Rover, I got very cold until we started riding again. After Rover, the ride was easy. I acted as tour guide as we approached Plainview, and I pointed out our farm and the old Bridges house on highway 28 as we passed by. There were eight of us that rode. Six of us are regulars riders on the Thursday retirees ride. One guy said it was the dumbest ride he had ever participated in. I must agree with that, but overall, I had a great time. Visit with the Bridges of Houston (3/11/09): We went to Houston last Thursday to visit Matthew, Ann, Madeleine and Nathan. We spent four nights and had a great time. The babies had changed since we were there in January. Nathan can walk and Madeleine is beginning to walk. We spent lots of quality time playing with them. On Friday we helped Ann prepare baby clothes, toys, and other items that the babies had outgrown for a sale sponsored by a Mothers of Multiples club. She sold a lot, especially the large items--car seats, swings. On Saturday, the Akins, John, Kelly, Ellie, and Emma came for a visit. John is doing a residency rotation in Houston for the next few months. We went with them to a park, and the babies played on the slides and swings. On Sunday we went to another park for more sliding and swinging. I tooks lots of pictures and posted some of them here. I also took a few videos. Damon and his older cousin Kane (3/01/09): We took Mama to see her youngest great grand child, Damon, yesterday. We also visited with Damon's family--his parents, Chris and Amy, his grandmother, Debbie, his Aunt Heather and Uncle Luck, and his older cousin Kane. The babies are really cute. Damon slept a lot; Kane was in constant motion. I posted some pictures of our visit here. The drive from Little Rock to Fort Smith takes about 2.5 hours or a little more depending on the number of rest room stops. We went with Judy and Sara, and Sara drove. We ate lunch in the car on the way to Fort Smith. We stayed less than 2 hours in order to get Mama home at a reasonable hour. She made the trip pretty well, and we made it home in time for her to have supper. Visit with Aunt Ernestine (2/25/09): We took Mama to Morrilton to visit her only surviving sibling, Aunt Ernestine. We had a great time, although Mama was tired by the end of the day. We looked at old pictures, watched family videos, and viewed new pictures of babies. We ordered Chinese food takeout. There were no lapses in the conversation. I took some pictures of the lovely ladies; you can view the pictures here. A death in the family (2/24/09): Rowenta, the Ultrasteam Handheld Fabric Steamer, was liberated from the constraints of this world to soar with the angels on February 24, 2009. She slipped away from us in a tragic way when she accidentally fell off the dresser. She sustained massive injuries from the fall and could not be revived as she gave off smoke and emitted an eerie noise as she left this earthly existence. She came from a long line of appliances. She entered our lives as a Christmas present and gave several weeks of faithful service before she let go of this life. She is survived by her owner and companion, Amy, who mourns her loss and searches for a worthy replacement. She will be interred in her original box following a solemn ceremony near the trash can. May she rest in peace. Visit with the babies (1/18/09): We spent several days in Houston visiting Matthew, Ann and the babies. The babies are so cute and extremely active. They are constantly on the move. They are seldom fussy and usually only cry if they are hungry, tired, bored, etc. Nathan can almost walk. He can stand alone for several seconds and tries to take a few steps from time to time. Madeleine won't be far behind. They are both expert crawlers! I posted some of the pictures and videos we made. |
