My issues with my crashed computer didn’t end when I finished writing my letter blog last week. When I copied and pasted it into my blog the words ran off the end of the page. I couldn’t see a button to make it wrap. I ended up pasting it into another program then copying and pasting to the blog from there. I’m not sad about all the steps I have to take now in order to visit with you, I’m just glad I figured out a way to do it!
“Peg, did you get your pictures off the other computer?” I know you wanna know.
I haven’t. I haven’t even tried yet. Old Mr. Crashed is still sitting on the dining room table, waiting to go to the ’puter doctor. I know I can get a USB to IDE cable anytime but I thought I’d try to fix it first. Besides, the computer guy might have a cable and can tell me if it’s wiped clean or the pictures are still there. Maybe he wouldn’t charge me an awful lot to transfer them to a thumb drive for me.
“Wanna go to the bridge?” Mike asked early in the week. “Replace the pictures you lost?”
And we did.
Work is progressing and the guys are under a deadline. They have to be out of the water by the first of March.
“Why’s that?” you ask.
DNR regulations for a trout stocking stream, which ours is.
“We’ll pull the pans out Monday,” Greg told us.
“How come you used them here and not at the other bridge?” I asked. I told you I’d find out.
“The water’s deeper here. It’s over six feet. It’s the only way to keep the water out while I built the keyway,” Greg explained.
They drove the piles in on the other side.
We’re not spending nearly as much time watching them build this bridge. I guess once you’ve seen it the novelty’s worn off. Besides, there isn’t any good place for us to park and be out of the work zone. We don’t want the guys to be upset with us and ask us not to come back anymore.
They did put up a different bridge here to walk across. I thought it was kinda cool.
I’ll go down for a little while Monday and watch them pull the pans.
“Are you doing that in the morning?” I asked. I didn’t want to miss it.
“It’ll take all day,” Greg answered.
Besides getting some new bridge pictures, I remade Eggs A La Goldenrod for you to see. Aren’t they pretty!
The yolks are riced and I have two ricers, an old one I picked up at the second hand store and a new one I bought online. The old one is better made — sturdier, and works better too.
And now I have a confession to make. I made it twice this week.
“Peg! Aren’t they fattening?” you ask.
Well, ya! Why do you think they’re so good! I make Fannie’s recipe with two eggs instead of three and according to my calorie counter, it has 474 calories. Which means I have to watch my calories for the rest of the day, but they are so worth it.
Most all the rest of the pictures that will appear in this letter blog were taken on the same day. Thursday. I might not use all 67 of them, we’ll have to wait and see what shakes out.
Thursday was a big, big, day. Mike had a dermatologist appointment in Williamsport to check the spots on his feet. That means a lot of road pictures. Then I visited my beautiful girlfriend Jody, and went to Bible study. But I’m ahead of myself. Let’s just get on with it, shall we?
I took a few road pictures as we went into Dushore. I know you’ve seen them before but seasons change, light changes, and I can’t help myself.
“Look!” Mike exclaimed. “There’s the new steeple.”
I wasn’t able to get a picture as we drove past so Mike turned around and went back.
The steeple, you may remember, was damaged in a bad storm last year. I can’t remember now if they called it a tornado or not. The same storm took out all the big beautiful evergreens there by the Terrace where my mom lived for twenty years. I can see St. Basil’s above the Terrace. The crane is in place and waiting.
Clothes’re hanging there!
Ghost trees! I took their picture on the way home too. You can really see the difference lighting makes in the way my camera sees it. Early morning, early afternoon.
Too sad.
And then we were there. Actually, there’s one more picture but it won’t fit on my page and in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t really matter if I took it on the way down or the way back.
I thought the trees on this street were majestic. I bet it’s beautiful in the summer.
Our GPS took us right to the building with no problems at all — and we were early. Almost an hour early. But that’s how Mike is.
Rather than sit in the waiting room we went back down to the Rest Stops of America, aka McDonald’s.
“Wanna sausage egg Mcmuffin?” I asked. I feel bad using someone’s restroom and not buying something. Besides, I know Mike loves those things.
We had a sandwich and made it back to the complex with tons of time to spare. We checked in and settled into a seat. I’d no sooner opened the book on my phone (synced to Libby on my iPad) and started reading when Mike’s name was called. Heidi escorted us to an exam room. She was personable and friendly.
“Can I take your picture?” I asked after we had the particulars out of the way. Often times people ask why and I explain I blog about our life.
“Sure!”
Heidi left. It wasn’t even long enough for me to get my book open again when Ashley came in. She’s a physician's assistant, a P.A., and not a dermatologist. Again, once business was done, I asked permission to take her picture and she agreed.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. I’m going to ask the doctor to come in and look at it.” And Ashley left.
She wasn’t gone long when the door opened. Man! This place is the fastest doctor’s office I’ve ever been in! Ashley was back with the doctor. She didn’t know what it was either but, “I can say it's definitely not athlete's foot.”
This doctor and Mike’s family doctor both think it has something to do with his cardiovascular system, which they tested and is fine. “Let’s do a biopsy and see what that tells us,” the doctor who’s-name-I-can’t-remember-but-could-probably-find-out said. “But if it’s what I think it is, there’s no cure for it. We just treat the symptoms.”
They left and again it wasn’t long until the door opened. But it wasn’t the doctor this time. It wasn’t Ashley. It wasn’t Heidi either.
“I’m the head nurse here,” she said after giving us her name. “I understand you’re taking pictures?”
“Yeah…”
“Well because of HIPPA I have to ask you to delete them.”
“But it’s his HIPPA,” I said, pointing to Mike.
“Yes, but we have to protect the staff too...”
I didn’t mention I’d obtained permission first. And I didn’t hear much else after that. When my face is red, my ears shut down, you know what I mean? I thought I’d done everything right and here I was being admonished. After agreeing to delete the pictures, she left.
“I’m surprised she didn’t make you delete them in front of her,” Mike said.
A fleeting thought of not deleting them had raced through my mind but it was being chased by I’m a Christian. I pulled my camera out of my bag where I’d stowed it and deleted the offending photographs.
We sat a little longer this time before Ashley and Heidi came back in.
“I deleted your pictures,” I told them and they thanked me.
They set up to do the biopsy. I watched as Ashley stuck a needle in Mike’s big toe and gave him some numbing juice. Then she got a scalpel and started cutting. “I can take a picture of just your hands and Mike’s toe,” I said, ready to get my camera again.
“I think it means no pictures at all,” Heidi said.
I didn’t take any pictures of anyone who didn’t first give me permission and I was careful to get no equipment in the pictures and now this. Whatever!
“I’ll just put a band aid on this,” Heidi said after it was all done.
“It’s not even bleeding,” Mike pointed out.
“Sometimes they start bleeding after you put some pressure on ’em like when you stand up. I don’t want you to get blood in your shoe.”
At home, later, Mike took off his shoe and there was blood on his sock. And I got a picture.
“Man they took a hunk out!” Mike said when he saw it. “I thought they just took the top layer of skin off.”
Saturday and Sunday his toe was sore.
Now we gotta go back and add the picture I missed and the ones I took on the way home.
The arch at the Lycoming Mall entrance. This is the Hadany Arch. It was built by internationally renowned sculptor Israel Hadany. It’s made of Corten steel, sometimes called weathered steel, which is often used in outdoor construction. It’s designed to eliminate the need for painting and will develop a rusted appearance in just a few months. This thick oxide rust coating helps protect it from further corrosion.
“I was given the opportunity to build several monumental-sized outdoor sculptures in the United States. One of them, the Hadany Arch, rises one hundred feet above the road to Lycoming Mall in Williamsport, PA. This sculpture is the tallest I have ever built and is among the tallest in the US.”
That’s a quote by Israel Hadany. The arch was built in 1977 and a lot can change in 42 years so I don’t know if it still holds true or not.
The interesting thing about this arch is it changes as you drive past it. It appears to move from its horseshoe shape, twist into a figure eight, and then untwist back to the original shape.
I looked at this one a long time before I took its picture. In fact, I almost missed it. I was trying to figure out what I was seeing.
We hit snow in the higher elevations. Key’s Pine Tavern has been torn down. It’s gone. I stayed in their little motel when I was visiting Momma.
It looks like someone broke the toilet. I know toilet art isn’t for everyone — I’d never have it. But I did always look to see who they had perched on the throne. It usually changed from time to time.
This is how far they got on the steeple by the time we got back to Dushore.
Maple syrup season has begun.
We did some shopping while we were in Williamsport and got home by mid afternoon.
“Mike, Jody has some new lambs and I want to go see them. I missed ’em last year,” I told Mike.
I texted Jody and told her I was on my way. I just love Jody’s farm. It’s got everything you could ever want. A cozy farmhouse big enough to raise a family in. A sturdy barn. A couple of ponds, trees, a creek, pasture land, and berry patches!
Jody was waiting for me when I got there. She dressed in her takin-care-of-the-critters barn clothes and we went down to the barn. She already had the door open when I said, “Wait a minute, Jody. Shut the door again, would ya? I wanna get a picture.”
Jody is used to my shutterbug ways and happily complied.
She led the way to the stall where the newest member of the flock was. She bent over the side and lifted the little one into her arms.
“She’s our bottle baby,” Jody told me.
“The mother wouldn’t accept it?”
She heaved a sigh. “No.”
“Did you try rubbing it with scent?” It’s not like Jody, who’s been doing this for twenty-two years, needs my advice but I couldn’t help but ask.
“We’ve tried everything.” And Jody listed all of the things they’ve tried. “We’ve never had any luck getting a ewe to accept her lamb once she’s made up her mind she doesn’t want it.”
Jody had to give this little one a bottle every two to three hours for the first week of its life, even getting up in the middle of the night to feed her. As the lamb gets older the time between feedings increases, just like with a human baby. They start to take an interest in food between eight and twelve weeks.
She went into the enclosure and checked the rest of the sheep. “Hello, No Ears,” she said in a soft sing-songy voice and gave her a gentle rub as she passed her.
We were on our way out when a thought occurred to Jody. “You didn’t even get to hold the baby.”
“That’s cause you were hogging her all to yourself,” I said.
“Peg! That was kinda mean! Why did you say that?” you ask.
I don’t know. Sometimes I channel Mike without even meaning to. You are what you eat, doncha know. But Jody knows me, knows my soul, and knows it was meant only as a joke.
“I can get her back out again,” she offered.
“Okay. I’ll even let you take our picture.”
And here is a rare picture of your elusive and camera shy me! By the way, I love my photo bomber.
“Jody, she’s shivering.”
“I’ll turn the heat lamp on for her for a little while.”
Before we left the little one was warming herself.
“Is that a chicken feather?” I asked spotting a pretty white feather among the straw.
Jody glanced at it. “Yes it is.”
“Can I have it?”
“Sure!”
I picked up the feather and ran my fingers over it feeling its softness and joining the feathers back together.
We were heading out when Jody pulled open another gate and stepped into a stall. She laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Look,” she said.
I looked but in the dimness of the barn and with my old eyes I couldn’t tell what I was seeing.
“There’s five eggs here now. There were four this morning. I thought I’d leave them here for you — if you want them,” she quickly added.
“I’d love them!” I said maybe a little too enthusiastically. I jumped at the chance for some fresh, free-range chicken eggs. Then I remembered my manners. “If you’re sure you can spare them.”
“Yes,” she said with finality.
I had the feeling that maybe she had enough eggs. “I eat a lot of eggs. In fact, when I get home I’m going to scramble ’em for my supper.”
Jody handed me the eggs and I could carry all five in my hand, if I was careful. Just for good measure I held them close to my body.
We started toward the house when Jody remembered to check for the dogs. Scout was with us but she couldn’t see Mick. She went back and opened the barn door, calling inside, “MICK!”
I walked on a few steps and spotted Mick in the pasture. “Here he is!”
Jody caught up with me. “Com’on Mick.”
“How’s he going to get out of there?” I asked.
“Peg, if he got in he can get out,” you say.
I know right! I thought of that too. “How did he get in there?” I quickly amended.
“Watch,” Jody advised.
I raised my camera and snapped a picture then realized I wanted my zoom.
I needed my other hand but it was holding a feather and five chicken eggs. In my mind’s eye, I see how the old farm wife carried eggs in her apron. I quickly pulled my shirt out and slipped the eggs from my hand into the pocket I'd made. I looked up just in time to see Mick jump through the top two boards of the fence.
“Dang! I missed it!”
“I’ve never seen him do that very often. He usually goes through the bottom two.”
Jody veered into the upper portion of the barn and I watched her go, wondering what she was doing. “Here’s a feather from one of my guinea hens.”
Feather? I followed.
She picked it up. “No. It’s not a very pretty one.” She walked a little deeper into the barn. “Here’s a good one!” She handed me the feather which I gladly accepted. "I miss my guineas.”
"What happened to them?”
She sighed and ticked her head sideways to indicate one of the nearby dogs . “Mick. Most of the time he ignores the chickens but once in a while he gets one. I guess it’s the hunting dog in him.”
Before we got to the house Mick veered off. “Did he go out on the ice?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jody answered.
We both craned our necks to see what he was up to. Nose low to the ground, he walked along the edge of the pond and I saw him grab something up. “He’s got something.”
Jody knew. She knew before she even saw it. “It’s a red squirrel.” A red squirrel fritter to be exact.
Mick came proudly up to show us what he’d gotten. “Drop it!” Jody commanded. Mick obeyed. Gingerly, with the tips of two fingers, Jody picked up the tiniest amount of dead red squirrel she could and carried it, at arm's length, to the dumpster while Mick looked forlornly on.
Jody had stuff to do so I didn’t stay overly long but before I left she remembered to give me the Valentine gift she’d gotten me. I love the way it's wrapped. Heck, the fact that it was wrapped at all impresses me. I’m not big on wrapping. I left, with gifts of love, from my friend Jody.
“Peg! What’s the book!” you ask.
Oh, yeah. I love this book! I can’t tell you how much I love this book! It’s A Woman’s Book of Days. It tells of important and inspirational women, both past and present, and it’s also a place to record special days and events.
And you know what else? The ribbon was marking the page my birthday is on. Of all the pages it could have been on, it was on mine.
I did scramble eggs for supper that night and these are my supper companions.
“Peg, did you give them a bite?” you ask.
You know I did.
You know what? Lately, in my life, some big truths have hit home pretty hard for me and I’ve been wanting to tell you about them. The first one, you are what you eat, I couldn’t tell you about because my computer crashed. And the fact that my computer did crash has been the nexus of two more truths. I’m not sure that truths is really the right word here, maybe revelations?
Mike and I watched the detective series Bosch on Prime Video. I really liked the show. I liked the story line and I liked the plots. I liked the actors. What I didn’t like was the strong language. The use of the F-bomb all the time. Maybe that’s how they really would talk, if it was real, but that word has never been part of my vocabulary. I was hooked and we watched as many episodes as we could watch for free.
We were nearing the end of season three and I noticed the F-bomb was sneaking into my thoughts. I was out without Mike and in my head I asked him something. I don’t remember what anymore, and in my head I heard his answer, “F### no!”
Hmmm.
A few weeks later I had a little tiff with someone. In relaying the events to Mike I told him, “It was just three fu—” and I caught myself.
“You almost said the F word, didn’t you?” Mike called me on it.
Yes. Yes I did. I almost said the F word without even thinking about it. I was horrified. I can’t believe I did that. It strongly reinforces in me that we need to be careful what we fill our heads with because it really does affect us, whether we want to believe it or not.
My computer crashed. I couldn’t show you the pictures I took of Mike having his blood drawn. The hospital where that happened and the place with the dermatologist are affiliated. If it’s against policy in one, it stands to reason it would be against policy in the other. Was I saved?
I know one thing for sure. If my computer hadn’t crashed I would never have explored other programs like Google Docs which I’m using now. This is my second week using it and I’m rather liking it. I’m learning how to do the things I want to do in it and I never have to save. It saves automatically to the internet. No more lost letter blogs!
One more. Can you stand one more?
I’m not having exercise class at the church anymore. Because of that I’ve started interval running again. I went out for my first run of the year on Saturday afternoon. It was exhilarating! I had my camera with me but only took one picture and that was because I couldn’t see what was on the sign. I only went for half an hour because I had Ginger with me and she just isn’t into interval running. So I cut my run short and came home.
With that, let’s call this one done!
