I Just Might Throw Down the Gauntlet.

In my backyard there is a grove of young trees; tall bushes really. I don't know what kind they are and they are not attractive looking, but in the spring they have small white flowers that give off an aroma that is absolutely captivating. I am being serious when I say that if that aroma could be captured and marketed I believe that millions of dollars could be made. In the middle of that grove is a young pecan tree. The nut was probably planted by a squirrel from a grove of pecans in a different area of the yard. The tree is about 4" in diameter at the base and 20' tall. It doesn't belong there. My only plan for today is to cut it down and debark it. The trunk is straight as an arrow for 10', and the wood under the bark is almost white. I have no idea why I want to do it or what I will do with the pole when I'm finished, but that's what I'm going to do today...sit in the shade, debark a tree and watch the world go by. Fade to black.

Okay, the tree has been cut down; visually I can't even notice that it's gone, the branches have been removed and the pole is propped against a tree in the yard. Before I start debarking I need to decide what I want to do with it. The diameter at the butt is 3.0" and the total pole is 18' tall. It weighs 12.2 lbs. Yes, I took the bathroom scale outside and weighed it. So What!!

Even though the pole has a bend in the middle my first thought was that it could be used for pole vaulting, but at 12.2 lbs it feels to me like it would take two men and a boy to run the required distance carrying it; planting it into the receptacle and then vaulting over the cross bar. On an aside, if one of the men and the boy made it over the cross bar but the other man did not, would that be considered a valid vault? 

Weight aside, the pole is definitely strong and very flexible. I think that any vaulter who used it to launch him or herself from a track and field event in the Chattanooga area would probably come down in Paduka, Kentucky. Which would be okay if they had some reason to go to Paduka. And if there was a track and field event in Paduka so they could use the pole to get back. 

Now there's another idea! What if every town had a pole vaulting receptacle, or what ever that thing is called that vaulters stick the pole in before launching themselves. If vaulting poles could be manufactured with the strength and flexibility of my pole, a person could probably make it from Miami to Seattle in maybe 8 to 10 vaults. Think of it...no crowded airports, roads, train or bus depots, and no cost other then the one-time purchase of the pole. Now, with the sky full of vaulters at first you'd be hearing a lot of THUNKS as vaulters collided mid-air and crashed to the ground, but some sort of traffic control could be worked out. This is something to be developed.

Another thought I had was to make a jousting lance from the pole. Actually I could make two lances, though one would be thinner and lighter than the other. In medieval times a jousting lance was about 7' long with a metal tip. I'm thinking I could carve and attach some sort of ornate spear-like point. I'd paint it gold or silver. I'm not sure if I would decorate the lances or leave them their natural off-white color.

Whatever I do I'd want to test them. I'd want to challenge someone to a joust. It probably wouldn't be hard to find a competitor. I could walk downtown wearing my "Straight, White, Male" tee shirt. That would be sure to offend some member of one of the many 'minority communities'. But I don't need to go downtown. I know that at least two of my neighbors are offended and infuriated by my stance on Trump and Covid. They would probably gladly engage me in combat.

I'm not sure how we'd do the actual joust. None of us have horses. We don't even have bicycles. I guess we'd just sort of run at each other while shouting out insulting medieval phrases like "You crooked-nosed knave!", and "You're a cox-comb!" I think I'll challenge one of their wives first, just to get the hang of it. Preparest thyself for combat, oh thou doxy!

 

Nothin' Stays the Same.

I've got nothing to do today. Well, I should say that I have nothing that has to be done today. All of the priority items on my list that I wanted to do during Maribel's absence have been accomplished, except for one, and that one isn't done because I cannot think of a way to do it. I've got the materials, I know what I want to do but I can't find a way to physically get at the area I need to work in. There is always a solution. I'm waiting for that Aha! moment to dawn on me. I'm hoping it will happen in this decade.

Part of the problem with that unfinished project is me. I am in a transition phase. I am going from middle age to old. The process isn't complete but there is no doubt that I'm in it. And it pisses me off. It pisses me off because I am contributing to it...I am allowing and even causing the transition to happen. I prove to myself almost every day that I can do the physical things I did 20 years ago. Sure, I don't have the strength I had but how much of daily life requires strength? Yesterday when I loaded a utility cart with cut up wood from the tree limbs I've been cutting down, I didn't think that I could pull the cart to the shed with a full load so I had to make seven trips instead of maybe five. The point is that I didn't try, because my mind was reminding me that my legs were still stiff from yesterday's work, and that I have neuropathy and may stumble while pulling the cart up a fairly steep slope. I didn't try. 

I am no longer comfortable climbing a ladder. I do it, but hesitantly. For no good reason other than my mind telling me that I'm old. It whispers to me, "You know that falling down is the number one health hazard for old people, don't you? Is the ladder stable? Is there something to grab and hold on to? What will you do if the ladder tips?" There is of course nothing wrong with being safe but when concern for caution causes doubt in your ability to do or even attempt something, then in my view you're well on your way to being parked in front of a window in a wheel chair with someone asking if you want a blanket for your legs. 

There will be more ladders to climb and I will climb them. I've got more tree limbs to cut down and saw into manageable pieces. When I do I will fill that cart and pull it to the shed. And I will pick up the axe and start splitting the bigger pieces, something I've been reluctant to try. I can do those things. If I let doubt stop me, that's the day when the transition to old age is complete. The prophecy has self-fulfilled. Enough of that.

I haven't felt the desire to comment on politics or Covid lately, mostly just sitting back and watching both scenarios play out. Politically I'm still as anti-Trump as ever and perhaps even more so. And I still believe that the GOP is a rudderless ship and am still hoping that a competent ship's captain will emerge; take control and sink the Dems in 2024.

Regarding Covid, I am very disappointed in the number of people who are still beating the anti-vax, personal freedom drum. I wish that all of these people could be magically whisked to Chiclayo, Peru where people wear two masks and a face shield, and live with a 6:00PM curfew, and watch or listen to the news constantly hoping that their age group had become eligible for the vaccination. At the moment it is age 57 and older. It is a shame that here in the US the government and private business is offering incentives to get people vaccinated. To me it is those who masked up in March of 2020; practiced social distancing, avoided crowds and got vaccinated when eligible who are the real patriots...the real Americans. But it is what it is.

Maribel has two weeks remaining in Chiclayo before returning. One of the things she's done recently is to go through the files on an old tower computer we left behind. She's copying a bunch of photos that I had forgotten about and emailed a few of them to me. 

The above photo I think was taken in about 2015. It is of a group of couples who lived in Chiclayo and nearby Pimentel. There were seven 'permanent' members (two couples missing from the photo) and a few who drifted through from time to time. The men were all Americans with Peruvian wives. The guys would get together monthly (with wives on holidays or special occasions), either at a restaurant or someone's home for lunch and conversation. The women would do their own thing. We men called ourselves the GRIPS - Gringos Residing In Peru. The women called themselves the CHESGRI - Chiclayanas Esposas de Gringos. 

Those were good days and good times. Though it was only six years ago a lot has changed. One of the men has died and three couples have moved back to the States. And of course distance, as it always does has had its effect on communication. Nothin' stays the same.

Never Underestimate the Power of a PB & J Sandwich

I've been keeping busy since Maribel left to go to Peru. Not that I sat around on my butt while she was here, but I had a mental project list that for one reason or another wasn't getting done as fast as it should have. Now in her absence its been finish one project and go on to the next. As an example, yesterday I had a very busy and very physical day. I'll get into that later; the point is that by 7:00 PM I had run out of stamina and had to call it quits for the day. I had planned on grilling a couple of hamburgers on the wood grill but didn't feel up to it so settled for a bowl of cereal. Next I thought I'd plunk my butt on the sofa, watch an hour or so of National Geographic and go to bed. That didn't happen. After about fifteen minutes or so I felt revived, refreshed and almost the compulsion to do something. So I went outside and mowed the front lawn, during which I mentally noted that the bushes need to be pruned. I finished cutting the grass just as it got dark.

Let me go back to my comment about watching National Geographic. You'll see how this ties in later. Have you noticed the subtle and sometimes not so subtle shift in the English language? A hunter no longer shoots or kills an animal. A hunter harvests an animal. A hunter doesn't field dress or gut an animal anymore. He processes it. Even lions and tigers don't kill anymore, they harvest or utilize a resource. On a different subject but on the same concept, awhile back we weren't interested in getting people vaccinated. What we wanted was to get needles in arms. Everybody was saying needles in arms - stumbling all over each other to use that phrase. I haven't heard it in awhile so maybe that's gone. But there will be new catch words...catch phrases. Always has been. And everybody will scramble to be the first on their block to use them. Why do we do that? Anyway, back to my physical day yesterday.

Fairly close to our house is a water oak tree that has a 4' diameter, is 75' tall and has about 20 sub stems branching off the main one. And off those sub stems are dozens of limbs ranging from 6" to 12" in diameter and about 20' to 30' long. The removal of three of those limbs has been on my project list, because their leaves are too close to our windows, blocking light and being a distraction when the wind blows. 

The first one came down yesterday. It's a lot of work. I have a 15' pruning saw but it's not long enough to reach them and the ground slopes too much to use a ladder so I rigged up an extension to give me a reach of 20'. The pole flexes so the saw blade keeps jumping out of the cut, and I am standing directly underneath the limb  which is not a comfortable feeling. It took me an hour to saw half-way through. My arms and back ached and I was drenched in sweat. I was about to quit when I realized I couldn't leave it like that because it could come down unexpectedly on its own. I threw a rope over it and standing off to the side pulled as hard as I could. I heard a creaking sound but it wasn't ready to come down yet. 

So with aching wrists I picked up the saw, got it into the cut and began sawing. It wasn't too long before I heard a crack that sounded like a rifle shot. I let go of the saw and started running. I didn't see the limb hit the ground but sure heard the BOOM! A 7" diameter oak limb 24' long is heavy! Looking at it laying there on the ground gave me a feeling of accomplishment. I had harvested that limb. I could probably even say that I had liberated it. Harvested or liberated, I had had enough of that limb for the day.

I was about to say that my task today was to cut it up but in keeping with my catch-phrase theme what I had to do was process it. That didn't turn out to be easy. Using a 21" bow saw I cut off only five 20" pieces and was already out of gas. I took a break...went into the house, had a mug of coffee and ate a PB & J sandwich while sending an email to Maribel saying that it would probably take me the rest of the day to finish the job. Thankfully that wasn't the case. I went back outside, started sawing like a mad man and didn't quit until the last cut was made. That PB & J is powerful stuff!

The bigger pieces of wood are in the shed; they will need time to dry out, and the leaves have been burned. And I have plenty of time to make a grocery run. PB & J are on my grocery list.

Liberals will be Liberals

I told Joe. I said, "Look Joe, you need to team with Susan Rice as a running mate." But no...he's gotta choose Harris. I said, "Joe, Harris is a be everything to everybody. She's one of those do-gooders..."give me your poor, your down trodden, your discriminated against, and I will absolve them of all personal responsibility and take care of them from the public coffers." I said, "Joe, Harris will alienate the independents and moderate conservatives. Rice is more reasonable and will appeal to a broader base." He ignored me. So Harris is out there doing her minority thing.

Peru has a situation where the presidential election is just completed but the winner has not been declared because the vote was so close. The choice was between a communist and a corruptionist. Whoever wins, the country loses. Peru has always had these types of candidates, and the country has always survived. It hasn't progressed appreciably but it has survived.

The US will survive the Biden administration. Hopefully we can win back some seats in 2022, and pray that a conservative hero will materialize to win back the White House in 2024.

That's my rant for today.

  

And Then Along Comes Neuropathy

Before I get into the gist of this post let me make it clear that I'm not complaining or looking for sympathy. I learned long ago that you play the hand that fate deals you, hopefully winning more hands than you lose. I've had my share of winning but these last couple of years it seems like that hasn't been the case. 

The string started with botched up cataract surgery in both eyes. No need to get into the detail but suffice it to say that prior to the surgery I didn't need glasses. Immediately after the surgery I was completely dependent on glasses. Then came about six months of being treated for a "knee sprain" which turned out to be bone-on-bone resulting in a total knee replacement. I recovered completely from that and walk without a limp or discomfort. A little over a year ago I underwent a totally unexpected triple by-pass. It was during a routine check up that 85% blockage of all major veins to the heart was discovered. I overcame that and was mowing grass and sawing wood three weeks later.

I turned eighty last December and it was about that time when Maribel and I noticed that I was stumbling frequently and brushing against things when I walked. I didn't pay much attention to that, thinking that maybe it's just a part of getting older. See, that's one of the issues about aging. I've never been eighty before so I don't know what to expect...what's normal versus abnormal? What's treatable versus ya gotta live with it? The stumbling continued and in addition I started experiencing the sensation that my legs were tightly wrapped from the hips down to the toes. It's a weird feeling. And then the night cramps began. They only happened when I was in bed, sleeping. They weren't regular muscle cramps. It felt like ligaments were being pulled apart, especially in the feet and behind the knees. Now I was starting to get worried. I've been physically active and athletic all of my life, and the image of me dependent on a walker or wheel chair is hard for me to deal with. When I explained the symptoms to my primary care doctor two months ago he promptly ordered a nerve conduction study.

A nerve conduction study isn't bad, but it's not a fun thing. In short, a neurologist continually inserts a thin wire probe into specific areas of the feet and legs and looks at a monitor that shows how well information is traveling from the peripheral nervous system to the brain and vice versa. At least that's my understanding of it.  

At the conclusion of the study he told me that I have nerve damage and a condition called peripheral neuropathy. As he explained it, damaged nerves are preventing my lower extremities from communicating properly with my brain, thus my brain is sending faulty information to my legs and feet. Which accounts for the symptoms already mentioned.

There are many possible causes of peripheral neuropathy. Injury is one, diabetes and B12 deficiency are others. I started taking B12 and quickly felt relief from the tightly wrapped feeling, and the night cramps diminished. What hasn't improved is the stumbling. I am also losing the sensation of touch, especially in the feet and lower legs. 

After the nerve conduction study the neurologist wrote a report to my doctor recommending fifteen different blood tests. My doctor and I put them on hold to see if the B12 would continue to relieve the symptoms. It hasn't so yesterday I had three vials of blood drawn. One of the tests is a 'timed test' which means the sample must be examined no later than four hours after being drawn. A technician explained to me that a courier would deliver the sample to a lab in North Carolina for examination. That doesn't make sense to me but I didn't ask questions.

Anyway, in about three weeks all the results will be in. Then I will learn if a cause or causes has been found and more importantly, if its treatable. I'm living a good life and I'd like to see that continue for a few more years on my own two feet.

It's Crucial That This Day End

It's just one of those days. I knew it was going to be one of those when I got up. I could feel it. It's been drizzling all last night and today, which is keeping me in the house. There are a few small inside projects I could do but don't feel any enthusiasm for doing them. The broken drawer pull on the bedroom dresser can wait, as can the leaky gasket on the garden hose. It's 3:06 in the afternoon and besides finishing off some left-over chicken for lunch and washing the solitary dish, I haven't done shit. Well, that's not true. I did brew coffee and read the news. Since then I've done a lot of aimless wandering from room to room. I tried reading on the porch but my mind won't focus on the words and keeps drifting. 

I could write down my next medical appointment on the calendar, but to do that I'd have to take the calendar down, flip the pages to September, write "Dr Hood - 8:10", flip back to June and hang it back up. Not worth the effort. They'll call to remind me anyway. I have thought about my options for dinner, which largely amounts to a left over bratwurst, or a Red Baron frozen pizza. The bratwurst is easier. All I have to do is nuke it for 30 seconds and then fold a slice of bread over it with catsup and onion. The pizza is much more complicated...take it out of the box, read the instructions, preheat the oven, wait for the preheat beep, put it in, set the timer, wait for the timer beep, take it out, figure out the slice size, etc. I don't want complicated. Or the washing of the cutting board, pizza knife and a plate.

Part of my unsettled feeling (I don't know what else to call it) is music, or the lack of. The CD player quit working a week ago Friday when Maribel left for Peru. So I'm limited to the offerings of SUNNY 92.3. I would think that Chattanooga would be large enough to support an easy listening or light jazz station but no, it's either SUNNY 92.3 or the off button. Of the two evils my preference is the off button. I could use one of the Direct TV music channels but it don't seem right to use a TV for a radio. I could listen to music on this computer but if I'm surfing the net at the same time I get both the music and advertisements, which is the equivalent of trying to have a quiet conversation in a sports bar. 

What I am really chomping at the bit to do is get outside and cut up the limbs I cut off of my neighbor's chestnut tree last week. At least 75% of his tree is leaning over the fence above my property. It's an old tree and when it comes down it will wipe out a large section of fence and my shed. I figured that I could delay its falling by removing some large limbs. I have a pruning saw with a 15' extension and was able to cut down five limbs ranging from 6 to 8 inches in diameter and 20' long. One of them snapped off quickly and landed a lot closer to me than expected. That should take some weight off the tree and will give me about a year's supply of cooking wood. All I need is for the rain to stop. I don't like working in the rain. Do you ever watch those Alaskan reality shows, like Port Protection? Did you notice that it's usually raining? I wouldn't live there for that reason alone. By the way, did you ever notice that the narrator always uses the word crucial? Every action, every task is "crucial". It's "crucial" that they lace their boot strings properly because they could trip and fall and sustain a serious injury and there is no doctor right around the corner like there is in the "lower 48". Anyway, they always use chainsaws when cutting up trees. I do it with a saw and manpower. 

For me a chainsaw is not crucial, and it wasn't crucial for the real lumberjacks of the 1920s and 30s. In those days a couple of Wisconsin 'jacks' could cut down half a dozen towering white pines using just axes and a two man cross-cut saw. The guys in Port Protection cut down one tree with a chain saw and think that they're Paul Bunyan (look him up). 

What I would really like to have right now is a funny book. All the books I have are unfunny. That includes 'The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'. I may be the only person who found that book to be unfunny. The funniest book I have ever read is 'Sheila Levine is Dead and Living in New York'. I lost my copy years ago. Hey!...that's something I could do right now! I could Google it and if it's available buy it, all without leaving this chair. And it delays my having to decide what to have for dinner. I think we have a winner.