BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

WOO HOO!!! It’s great to be talkin’ to ya from the homestead. We arrived at 9:30 yesterday (Friday) morning and immediately fell into our routine chores – turn on the water, turn up the water heater, unpack, turn on the computer and run a scan, make “nectar” for the hummingbirds, wind the old clock.

Ever since I’ve known him, Mike has loved to tinker with old lawn mowers and other small engines. Last summer, when our old lawn mower died and Mike finally wrote “R-I-P” on it, I begged him to buy a brand new one. So much time and frustration goes into those old mowers, I said; let’s treat ourselves so that you can just mow. We shopped and were finally going back and forth between Home Depot and Sears, but Mike just couldn’t make up his mind. The new mowers have features he just didn't like. We finally ended up at “Lawnmower Charlie’s” at the corner of 5th and Bryden where it was love at first sight between Mike and an old gray Craftsman. Mowing last season went fine but a couple of weeks ago, after sharpening the blade, Mike noticed a problem. “What’s wrong with this thing?” he complained; “it’s not cutting right.” The blade casing, or whatever you call it, was riding right on the ground on one side. So, when we came yesterday, we tipped it over and discussed the hooks and doohickies, the rods and the springs and the pins. And of course, Mike is really hampered with his left arm in a sling and the alteration we were considering was not going to be easy. Then I noticed it – the rear tire on the affected side was flat. “Do you think that could be the problem?” I asked. Sure enough – we pumped up the tire and mowing went fine.

I don’t think Mike wanted me to blog about that, but I’ve said all along if it’s going to be interesting, you have to write about your failures as well as your successes, your foolishness as well as your wisdom. For those not born to it, country life is an experiment. And besides, the flat tire wasn't obvious.

ABSENTEE MOTHER

On June 1, 1933, Ina writes to Vance:
“I should have written sooner after Mother’s Day and your offering came, but we’ve been busy and too tired when we stopped, etc., so I must be forgiven also. I’m always very happy over my Mother’s Day remembrances. I feel lifted up and carried along on my children’s love and faith and feel like life has been merciful after all. So accept my appreciation of all you have meant to me and of your gift and thought on this last Mother’s Day. I heard from you all . . .” She then lists the gifts she received and adds: “I shall use the $1.00 bills to get new curtains, etc., which is needed and will do so much to add to our pleasure in the house.”

“I stay home on Mother’s Day,” my own mother would announce. She didn’t want to miss the calls and visits from her children. Though she didn’t express herself like Ina, she was nevertheless sentimental over the day.

But I am writing this blog to let you know that we are going to the homestead Friday morning, and we might stay through Monday. You know that phone calls there can be difficult. I thought about making myself available for calls by spending Mother’s Day sitting on “June’s Hill” where we find cell reception to be optimal. I could load the 4-wheeler with books, my latest afghan project, some food – and just spend the day there on the hill waiting for the cell phone to ring. (LOL) That won’t happen!

But – hopefully Wild Blue (the satellite internet service) is now reconnected at the homestead and hence communication possible through email. Mike and I both access our regular email service while at the farm.

Speaking of motherhood – Mike and I enjoyed logging into “sonogram theater,” or whatever they call it, and seeing the face (and other parts) of our darling new granddaughter due to be born in July. Mike immediately saw the face when it came up on screen. It took me longer to make it out in what appeared as soft shadows. To me it was like seeing the man in the moon -- as soon as you see it, it’s plain as day. Photos of babies yet to be born! What will they think of next? There’s not much left to the imagination any more.

[The photo above is of Ina with her youngest child, Shirley, in 1911. I would love to know how to repair photos through computer software.]

VIEW FROM THE WEST RIMROCK

When I was sorting through photos one day, I discovered these taken from about the same spot in different eras. This first one was taken in 1909 and is captioned "Little Canyon from Dad's west rimrock." That's about a hundred years ago, you know.

The next photo (right) is the same scene: "August 1939 from lone tree point on the 'South 80' [that's what they called that particular field] looking down Little Canyon; Dieterle boys' place in distance."

This photo was taken by my dad in 1959 from approximately the same spot above the place that then belonged to Max Walker . . .

. . . and my contribution taken on a cold April Sunday 2008. Sonny Hairston now owns and operates a hunting club on that land.

SHOULDER REPORT -- DAY 6

Physical therapy yesterday evening went well, I think. Mike said he didn't cry -- not even once. I think he feels encouraged. Range of motion seemed good. The therapist exchanged the original bandage for a lighter one making icing easier. Mike was restless in the night, though -- I think he probably had a little pain due to the therapy. He'll see the therapist again Thursday. And then we might just get off to the homestead for the weekend.

SHOULDER REPORT -- DAYS 4-5

Mike slept on the sofa Saturday night – didn’t even take off his clothes. I think he was awake fairly early Sunday but he did get a decent night’s rest. I did, too; I slept 10 hours.

Sunday (yesterday) was a beautiful day. Nellie knew it and insisted we get out of the house. The three of us went for a neighborhood hike after lunch, but that just didn’t suffice. “I insist we go somewhere,” Nellie said with body language.

So, Mike organized a few local geocaches for us to find. Some preliminary work was necessary as one of them was based on the results of a logic problem. Being obsessively compulsive about such things, I worked on it for a couple of hours, but Mike solved it by means of Excel. (Is that cheating?) That search took us to the edge of the Clearwater on Down River Road where we chatted with a couple of fishermen who had never heard of geocaching. We also found two other caches that have eluded Mike for some time.

Last night Mike showered regardless of the instructions forbidding it. I just won’t be held responsible for his actions. Each day he gains more mobility and is now comfortable with clothing changes. He was able to sleep in bed last night. This morning (Monday) we were out several hours running errands. He was tired by the time we were finished.

We’re a little apprehensive about physical therapy late this afternoon. I will go with him. They’re supposed to give him instructions on taking a shower.

Bottle cap finds: Sunday – 2; Monday – 2.

SHOULDER REPORT -- DAY 3

We had a rough night. Mike discovered what it means not to be able to lie down comfortably. Pain set in. We were both “up” at 5:00 a.m. He was then able to get comfortable on the sofa where he slept several hours. Much thought has been devoted to the proper function of the organs. After research, I set out for Albertson’s at 7:30 a.m. for fiber-rich foods – not that we don’t practice that sort of diet anyway. This afternoon Mike felt well enough to make a batch of oat bran muffins. I made date nut bread.

We had tentatively planned to attend the wedding of a friend in Coeur d’Alene this afternoon but decided against it. We took several neighborhood walks with Nellie. and I don’t think our hearts were really in that. It was just a quiet day here at home.

Bottlecaps found: 2

SURGERY REPORT

“Come on, Nellie. Come on, girl. You have to go to your kennel now,” coaxed Mike at 5:30 a.m. Thursday.

“You must be confused, Mike,” said the look on Nellie’s face. “I sleep on my pillow in the mornings.”

“Not today, girl. You have to go out.” We were on our way to the hospital for Mike’s left shoulder surgery. Dr. Flock said the procedure went well. He removed “loose bodies” from the shoulder and scraped calcium deposits from the end of the clavicle. There were no rotator cuff tears, but he has arthritis. We were home about 1:30 p.m. The rest of the day was trying with the effects of the anesthetic wearing off. But this morning he is up, dressed, moving around with various light activities. Probably like most shoulder surgery patients, he wears a sling that affixes to a pad against his body to immobilize his arm.

Mike refuses to take the prescribed pain medication, which he hates due to side effects, and insists he is getting along well. But doctor and nurse both pressed him to take the pain meds and take them before he needed them. So, we now have yet another bottle of unused narcotic pain meds on the shelf, even though we showed our stash, stated our concerns about side effects, and asked for other options. “Oh but you will be in pain and it will be better if you stave it off,” they say. People are different, I guess. Sometimes I think when the patient has been coping with pain for quite some time anyway, the pain of surgery is not a big deal. Mike manages quite nicely with ice packs and distracting activities. And he seems to be able to get some sleep.

Anyway, today Mike is up, dressed, and moving back and forth between the office and the shed. I feel confident things will continue to go well.

I don’t have pictures of Nellie greeting Mike when he came home from the hospital. I was ready with the camera, but we had to keep her from jumping on him. She quickly saw the dilemma and backed off. Then with deliberate action she pressed her snout to his arm and sniffed. Maybe she wondered if he had a new arm.

[Above -- basket-o-gold blooms in Clarkston.]