A Few Things

          After all the hullabaloo of last week, this week was rather blah, bland, quiet and calm. Maybe uneventful would be the best descriptor of all. Nonetheless, I've got a few things we can talk about. Was there ever any doubt in your mind?

          We've had this cat toy for many, many years. It's got places in the top for the cat to put her paw through and bat the pink plastic ball around in a circle. Missy, one of our old cats who's gone now, used to play with this thing all the time and she'd get the ball out. I never saw her do it so I don't know how she did it.

          I found it again the other day, brought it in and washed about three inches of dust and grime from it and put it on the floor in the utility room. Anon has adopted it as her own. She plays with it a lot! Mike and I'll be sitting in the other room watching TV and hear her batting the ball around.

          I was in the kitchen one day this week and heard the ball going around on its little track. I looked and was surprised to see Smudge playing with it. I was thinking about going for the camera when all of a sudden Smudge freezes. I look in the direction he's gazing and there's Anon, crouched down by the wall and staring at him. I can almost hear Smudge's, "Oh shit," as he slunk away, looking back once, and I had to laugh. I guess he knows it's hers too.

          Our week started off with one warm day followed by a second not-so-bad day. Mike and I took the opportunity to take the winter plastic sheeting down from the patio. We still have one side to do but the rest of the week was cold and blustery and rainy. We're thinking that next year we won't block off so much area. We don't need to put plastic around the whole patio and the plastic doesn't really hold up all the well to Pennsylvania's winter winds. Maybe we'll just do something around the entryway to keep the wind from blowing straight in.

          There isn't much to say about the construction of the lower bridge. The deck is poured, the parapets are formed and they're waiting on weather to pour those. We haven't been spending much time down there because there isn't any good place to watch from. Besides, we got to see them do the bridge by the Kipps' house and the method is the same for this one. In other words, the novelty has worn off.

          Something we do find interesting is that they're erecting something in the parking lot by the Rainbow Bridge. They originally made this lot and put pumping stations in to pump water up from the Susquehanna into trucks that take it to the well-drilling sites.

          "A water tower?" I hazarded a guess.

          "I don't know," Mike replied. "Maybe."

          Time will tell.

          Look what I saw at my pond! A Green Heron! It's the second time this year I've seen one but they always hear me coming and take off before I get very close.

          In this cause he only went as far as a tree. I tried to get a little closer but he took off again. I bet he eats frogs and tadpoles and maybe even baby turtles if he finds them. There aren't any fish in my pond.

          The blossoms are starting to open on our Bradford Pear trees. We're at least a week behind the ones down in town. They're pretty but don't let all that prettiness fool you. They stink.

          Miss Rosie and I had a discussion about canned pumpkin the other day. I don't even remember how we got on the subject or even the context of the conversation but I remember volunteering a 'fact' I'd heard someplace or another. "Did you know that most canned pumpkin isn't pumpkin at all?" I told her.

          "No. It says pumpkin on the label," she pointed out.

          "I know, right! I heard it was really squash."

          I decided to research it a little.

          "What'd you find out, Peg?" you wanna know.

          Botanists say it's difficult to draw the line between pumpkins and squash because there's no botanical difference. 

          Pumpkins are a type of squash. They're a winter squash.

          What we think of as a pumpkin, a large round orange thing to carve Jack O' Lanterns out of, are not what's in the can labeled pumpkin.

          "What is it then?" you ask.

          Libby's developed a Dickinson. 

           Some call it squash, Libby's calls it pumpkin. It's an uglier cousin to the traditional pumpkin and is what you'll find 90% of the time. But it isn't the only variety of 'pumpkin' you'll find in the cans either. It can be made from one or more types of winter squash like butternut, Hubbard, Boston Marrow, and Golden Delicious. The USDA is actually pretty lenient with its distinction between pumpkin and squash.

          "Why not just use pumpkin?"

          I know, right! That's what I wanted to know too! These other squash have thinner skin, more meat, are less stringy, richer in sweetness and color than our pumpkin patch pumpkins. And if you ever cook up one of your Jack O' Lantern pumpkins you'll find it to be bland and soupy. I know. I made that mistake once. I didn't know that pumpkin pies weren't made from pumpkins.

          And now you know.

          Do you know who Rachel Levine is? I'll never forget the first time I heard her speak. The TV was on in the kitchen and I was getting supper around. I didn't hear the introduction but part way through I glanced at the TV and was surprised to see a woman speaking when I thought I'd been listening to a man.

          "Is that what people heard when they heard my mother speak?" I wondered. Over the phone, to people who didn't know her, she was often mistaken for a man. I never thought she sounded like a man. Not even after she told me about it. I could never hear a man in Momma's voice.

          But in this case, Rachel used to be Ronald. Levine is the highest-ranking transgender official in Pennsylvania and one of a small number of transgender people serving in elected or appointed offices nationwide.

          But you want to know what really drives me crazy? Those sign language translators they have on the screen with them. I thought they mouthed whatever word they were signing. We have this one woman who appears with our governor that makes the most whacky, outlandish, exaggerated  mouth movements while signing and I have to look away. I just can't watch her.

          I worked on my Flower Garden this week. I thought to have little bouquets of the same flower winding its way up my curly q's. So I made more of the same kind of my favorite designs. I tend to be a little OCD and may have over-achieved. I've made enough flowers for a couple of Flower Gardens!

          I thought my flowers might need some greenery so I spent some time making leaves.

          All the same or different? I wondered. Different for each color of flower? All the same? Does it even matter?

          I can't make up my mind. But I did start making leaves.

          I came up with this design that I liked. I thought I'd put three large leaves along the bottom edge, evenly spaced — more or less. I added white on top of the green and wasn't happy with the starkness of it. Then I got an idea.
           I've got some polyurethane that is yellow with age.

           On some of my colors it doesn't matter but it turns the color white slightly yellow. Mike bought me some new polyurethane and told me to throw the old stuff away. Did I listen! NO! I don't like to waste and now I'm glad I didn't throw it out. I dipped my leaves in the old stuff. I think it'll be okay. What do you think?

          I made some smaller leaves but left them plain green and didn't fancy 'em up. In my mind, I justified it by thinking the little leaves can be all green and the white develops as the leaves get bigger.

          Hey! No judgment here. It's my world and that's how it's going to work! Unless I change my mind, of course.

          Switching gears I thought to work on my butterfly. I was down to the wire and had to make a decision. I can't start weaving my flowers and leaves on until I decided what I was going to do with the butterfly.

          I really love the glassiness of these flowers. They are some of my extra flowers I don't think I'm going to use on this piece. What if I make my butterfly wings glassy?

          The technique I used to make them was to first dip them in Mod Podge then in printer ink. The ink won't dry but when I rinse it, it'll stain the Podge. The details are painted on then, when dry, dipped in polyurethane.

          I'm tellin' ya! Ya gotta wanna do this stuff!

          The gaps in the butterfly wings are a lot larger than in the flowers and it's hard to get the Podge bubbles to form and not burst over such a large space. I thought I'd lay down a layer of tissue first. Once dry, I added the ink but I hated it and took it apart and started again.

          No choice, I thought. If I want them to look glassy I'd have to try the Podge.

          I played around and did get the bubbles to form and stay. I was pretty proud of myself. When I added the ink, all kinds of problems arose. I got a hole in one wing. The Podge sagged and wrinkled. I hated it and tore it apart again. Now I'm back to a blank slate and thinking, maybe beads? But the weekend is here so I'll just shove it to the back of my mind and let it ruminate while I work on my letter blog. I get to start all over again on Monday.
           It was a quiet week, a really quiet week, then Saturday happened.
          We were running low on oranges. Oranges, and vitamin C specifically, is touted as being beneficial in fighting COVID19. I think that getting your daily recommended allowance of Vitamin C is good thing anyway but especially during this time Mike and I are making an extra effort to have a fresh orange every day.

          My phone buzzed. I got a message from that beautiful neighbor of mine. Stephanie Robinson. "I'm going to town. Do you need anything?" she asked. She's such a good neighbor.

          We did need a couple of things. Oranges being one of them. Bananas being another. Mike only likes them green — ack, ack! I prefer them ripe and sweet.

          Oh my gosh! You know what that reminds me of?

          "Jack Sprat?" you guess.

          Yes! Jack Sprat could eat no fat, His wife could eat no lean; And so betwixt them both, They lick'd the platter clean. They made a good team and so do we!

          I let Mike know that Steph was offering to pick up something if we needed it. "Tell her we need oranges," he said.

          "And bananas?" I asked.

          "Yeah. Bananas too."

          "Okay. How are we going to pay her for them?" I asked. That's one of the drawbacks of never having any cash.

          Mike thought about it for a minute. "Never mind."

           A couple of hours later Mike suggested,"Let's run to Dushore."

           I didn't fuss and say no right away like I always do. I'd made good progress on my blog and because I had an ulterior motive. "Okay," I agreed and left the letter blog on my desktop.

          "Let's take Ambrosius Road," Mike said.

          I was surprised. He hates the alternate routes into Dushore, preferring instead to take the wider, better paved, Wyalusing New Albany Road. "Why?"

          "No hills that way. Better gas mileage."

          "I wanna go the Wyalusing New Albany Road," I said. "We can come back Ambrosius if you want to."

          It was his turn to ask, "Why?"

          "Something's going on. They're looking for a girl that was last seen on that road. I think there was some kind of accident last night and she wandered away. Joanie said they had a helicopter circling over her place for a couple of hours."

          So we went the way I wanted to go. "There they are!" I exclaimed like Mike couldn't see it for himself.

           We went slow and they waved us around the search party. "They've brought out a dog!"

          As it turns out, someone — who might be me — jumped to a conclusion not supported by evidence. The evidence being, it was stated she was at risk for harm or injury and my mind jumped to car accident. This gal lives here, is 22 years old, is special needs, and has wandered away before.

         

          I spotted a hawk! I know it's not a great picture but I'm always glad to spot one and get a half-way decent shot.

          We did our shopping and headed home. Going past Ambrosius salvage yard I got this shot.

          Then cars started flashing their lights at us as they passed.

          "Must be something going on," Mike said and slowed.

          Flares on the road before a bend, then we see it.

          "Heck of a way to park your car," Mike jokes.

          Of course it's not funny and I don't know if anyone was hurt, but what're ya gonna do! Done is done and can't be undone.

            And with that let's....

          "Wait! Wait, wait! Peg, you didn't tell us how Mike is doing," you say.

          I know, right! When things are going good, I do tend to forget. Mike is doing well except he's experiencing a lot of back pain. He's been taken off his prescription pain medication and is using OTC Tylenol. He's trying to walk more by getting out of his recliner and doing things for himself. That's hard for me because doing things for him is the way I show him that I love him. Now I know, that because I do love him, I have to let him do things for himself.

          And let's call this one done!

Mike

          Early in the week we went up to the Robinsons and got to see their newest additions. Under a heat lamp, they had a dozen baby chicks. They're going to have their own eggs or meat for the stew pot if there are too many males.

          "Or if I get tired of hearing him crow at dawn!" Steph said.

          They were able to get eight guaranteed females and four take-yo-chances.

          "When will you get eggs?" I asked.

          "Six months!" Steph exclaimed.

          Chicks weren't the only thing we ran 'a fowl' of. Get it? A fowl, afoul.

          On our Saturday walk Mike complained that his calf felt funny. It was tight and hurt. But we made it as far as the Kipps and were visiting with them, practicing our social distancing on the front porch, when we hear turkeys gobble.

          "They're coming across the bridge!" Miss Rosie exclaimed.

          I got up to look but they saw me first and turned around. They ended up crossing the creek a little further downstream, going across the road, and up into Vernon's field.

          An achy calf wasn't the only weird symptom Mike was feeling. He was also experiencing a lot of shortness of breath. He couldn't even make it to the kitchen and back to his chair without being out of breath.  He also had a dull headache and some dizziness when he stood so he started checking his blood pressure. It was all over the place! High one time, low another, and even spot on at times. Mostly it was high though. By Monday things weren't any better so Mike decided to call the doctor.

          "We're not seeing any patients right now," he was told. "But I can have the doctor do a phone conference with you."

          Mike made the appointment for Dr. Karen to call him later that afternoon.

          At the appointed time the secretary called. "This will be billed as a regular appointment," she told him. "Do you agree?"

          What are ya gonna do! You agree — and I don't begrudge them that. They're doing the best they can.

          "I'm worried," Dr. Karen told Mike after he told her all his problems. "Let me see if I can get you in to do an EKG and see a cardiologist."

          Things happened really fast from there. The appointment was for 11:00 the next day at the hospital up in Sayre.

          "Let's leave early and we'll check on the bridge before we go," Mike suggested.

          We'd talked to the guys on Monday and knew they were going to pour the deck Tuesday morning. We got there before the first concrete truck had arrived and the guys were all standing around, talking and waiting. Here you can see the Bidwell machine set up and ready to go.

           It wasn't but a few minutes until one of the guys pointed behind us.

          Mike glanced in the rearview mirror. "There's a concrete truck."  He put the Jeep in gear and got out of the way. We let the truck pass, turned around and headed for Mike's doctor's appointment.

          A little way down our dirt road, I say, "Mike, stop. Please?" and I put my hand on the door handle.

          Mike stopped.

          "Would you back up a little?"

          "Why?" he wanted to know.

          "I saw some little white flowers and I want to get a picture. It won't take me long."

          Mike put the Jeep in reverse and when he drew abreast of these spring beauties I said, "Right here." And got out and took a few pics.

          "What are they?" you wanna know.

          I know, right! I wanted to know too!

          This little flower is Hepatica nobilis an early spring bloomer in the buttercup family. A more common name is Liverleaf or Liverwort and is most common in blue or lavender although white can be common locally.  It was once thought to have medicinal properties to treat liver disorders but in large doses it's poisonous. It was also used as an astringent (tissue-drawer-together-er), a diuretic (make ya pee-er), and a demulcent (soother-er) for slow-healing injuries.  

          Down in town I see all the Bradford Pears that line the street are blooming. It's just beautiful. Ours are slower to bloom up here on our mountain.

          Going through North Towanda we see this guy set up in a shopping center parking lot. "What's he selling?" I wondered.

          Mike glanced left but too late. "I don't know." He pulled into the center turn lane. "We can go around and see. We've got lots of time."

          "Jesus," I said when I could read the sign. "He's selling Jesus."       

          Just outside of the little town of Ulster are the Ulster eagles. Mike was able to slow down a little for me to get a shot of an eagle in the nest. Since both the male and female will incubate the egg, I don't know which one this was, but typically the female spends more time on the nest. Too bad she had her head down. She either has eaglets or soon will have.
          Thirty-seven years ago, eagles were nearly extinct in Pennsylvania. Now we have more than 300 nesting pairs.

           We arrived at the hospital in Sayre early, as is Mike's way. The Robert Packer is where I was born more than 60 years ago now. That sounds so old when you say it out loud — or see it in black and white.

          We had to stop just inside the front doors and have our temperatures taken.

          "Close your eyes," she said to me as she raised a temperature gun to my head.

          I closed my eyes.

          "Close your eyes," she said again and I assumed she was talking to Mike since mine were still closed and she didn't say I could open them. I did anyway.

          "Do you have any of these symptoms?" she asked and pointed to a board leaning against the front of her table. All of the COVID 19 symptoms were listed.

          I read them. Cough. Mike has a cough but it's due to his blood pressure meds and not new so I didn't mention it. "He has shortness of breath and that's why we're here."

          "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

          "Yes we do." And we were allowed to continue on our way.

          "That's like what I use to check the temperature on the RV tires," Mike said of their temperature guns. "So is the temperature of your skin the same as your internal temperature?" he wanted to know.

          "I don't know. You'll have to ask someone else."

           We get to the cardiology unit and check in. There was only one other person in that big huge waiting room. When Mike's name was called I was allowed to go in with him. All the technician did was have him take off his shirt and attach leads to his shoulders, belly, and chest. She pressed a button on a machine and that was it. It took Michael longer to put his shirt back on than it did for the test.

          "Wow!" I said. "That was fast."

          "It's the easiest test you'll ever have," she said.

          We went back to the waiting room and waited for the cardiologist to see us. I was allowed to go with Mike when he spoke to the doctor. Without going into the blow-by-blow, the EKG was okay but the doctor was concerned that Mike had never gone back for follow-up visits after his heart surgery more than 25 years ago.

          "You should have been doing yearly scans," Doc told Mike. "At least every two years. Let's get a CT scan of your heart. That'll tell me a lot."

          Jude was the receptionist who helped to set up the appointment for the CT so he was on his phone for part of the time we spent with him. "I don't know if they want to hang around that long. Hang on." He turned to us. "They can do it today at 4 if you want to hang around."

          We looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking. It's just easier to hang around for a few hours then make the trip back.

          "We'll hang around," Mike told Jude then turned to me. "We can get lunch, pick up a few groceries?"

          I nodded my approval.

          Jude told the gal on the other end and we waited as Jude listened. "Oh really. I was just going to send them out for lunch." He turned to us. "You can't eat. You have to fast until 4."

          "Well, one of us can't eat," I said to the rumblings of my belly.

          Jude was putting stuff in the computer and when he stopped typing I asked, "What does CT stand for?"

          "Good question!" He cocked his head sideways, hand on his chin, index finger tapping his cheek like he was thinking. Then I saw the light bulb go off as he turned and typed on the keyboard. "I probably knew at one time... Yup, there it is. It stands for Computed Tomography. It'll give them a three-dimensional image."

           "You don't have to know the answer," I grinned. "You just have to know where to go to get it."

          "That's right," Jude agreed. "Now, would you like a physical appointment for your follow-up or is a virtual appointment okay?"

          I spoke for Mike. "We can do a virtual appointment." He's funny sometimes about the cost of gas — even though it's a buck eighty-five a gallon right now, the lowest we've ever seen it here! "We have the capability to do it."

          "That's what I wondered," Jude said and turned back to the computer. I guess not all old people are as tech savvy as we are.

          Jude asked a couple of questions as he set us up with an account for the hospital and that would allow us to have a Zoom video conference with the doctor two weeks from that day to go over the test results. "He's only here on Thursdays." Jude said as he looked for a timeslot.

          "Today's Tuesday and we saw him," I pointed out.

          "Yeah. It's strange times we're living in. But his regular schedule is Thursdays."

          We were getting ready to leave when Jude checked to confirm the 4 o'clock appointment he'd made and saw it wasn't on the schedule. He had to make a couple of phone calls before he got it straightened out. "Blood test first," he said. "Down one floor and the opposite corner," he pointed.

          We took the stairs down one flight, found the place and checked in. When Mike's name was called I got up too.

          "Only Michael," she said holding up her stop-sign hand.

 I settled back down to continue reading my book while I waited.

          "She found a vein right away," Mike told me when he was done. "And in my right arm too. I usually give them my left because they can't ever find one in the right."

          On the way out of the hospital, the gals taking temperatures weren't busy. Mike stopped. "Does that read the same as your internal temperature?" he asked.

          "Uh-huh," she answered.

          "Even if you just come in from outside and your skin is cold?" he wanted to know.

          "I think so. They're pretty accurate."

           Afterward, we went to Aldi's to pick up a few groceries. They had a gal sanitizing buggies and we weren't required to put a quarter in to get one! I picked up a small bag of cheese puffs to hold me over until we could get something to eat. Then we debated about going to Walmart.

          "We don't really need anything," I told Mike. "The couple of things I'd pick up we don't really have to have right now. I vote we don't take a chance on getting COVID if we don't have to."

          We ended up back in the parking lot of the hospital.

           It was more than two hours before our appointment but I didn't mind. I opened my cheese puffs, pulled out the iPad, and opened my book. Mike put the seat back and tried to take a nap but it didn't work and he sat back up.

          "Look at that mower," Mike said. "It must be four-wheel drive for it to go up the bank like that. Put your camera on it and tell me what it is."

          I did as Mike asked, took a picture, pulled it up on the screen, and made it larger so I could read it. "It's a Kubota F3060," then went back to reading.

          Mike Googled it. "Yep. It is four-wheel drive. I knew it was..." Mike continued to read the specs to me but I sorta stopped listening, trusting my instincts to let me know when I had to start listening again, and went back to my book.

          After he finished with that he was quiet for a little while, then, "What's on that sidewalk?"

          I set my iPad aside and picked up the camera again.

          "I don't know what they're supposed to be," and I turned the camera so Mike could see the shapes.

          "Hmm," he grunts. 

   

          After a while Mike says, "You wanna go in?"

          "Sure. I can read in there as well as out here. Besides, I havta pee." I also thought it might give him something else to do besides talk to me while I was trying to read — but don't tell him I said that.

          "Me too," Mike replied.

          We got our homemade bandana face masks out and headed in. Mike checked in while I found us a seat away from the half-dozen or so others waiting. Again, when Mike was called, I wasn't allowed in.

          Time passed but I was lost in Leota's Garden, a novel by Francine Rivers.

          "Mr. Lubby!" I heard and looked up to see Mike coming down the hall with a tech hot on his heels. Mike turned. "Mr. Lubby, don't leave yet." Some people guess how to pronounce Luby and they don't always guess right.

          My heart sank.

          "Okay," and replied and sat down in the chair beside me.

          "Uh-oh. That can't be good." We'd seen three other people come from having the test. "They didn't make anyone else wait."

          Mike cleared his throat. "I think there was a note to call the doctor if they saw anything funny."

          It wasn't long until Lisa came out and got Mike again. "The doctor wants to talk to you," she said as Mike got up to follow her.

          "Can I go?" I called. She was moving fast.

          Lisa stopped and turned to me. "Oh, yes. Of course you can."

          Back at the CT station, Lisa handed Mike a phone. "Don't hang up when you're done. I want to talk to him again too."

          I watched Mike as he listened to the doctor but I couldn't stand to be out of the loop. I put my ear up next to Mike's and he pulled the earpiece away so I could hear too. I couldn't hear very well but I heard enough. "...blood clots in your lungs. If it was just a few I'd send you home with medication. But there's a lot in the left lung and a few in the right. I want you to go to the ER and get admitted right away."

          I was scared. All I could think of was Dan Blocker, he was the handsome Hoss on Bonanza.

          "Peg, I was in love with Little Joe," you say.

          Well, Michael Landon was certainly handsome enough but for me, it was always Hoss. At 43, Hoss died of a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot to the lungs. It broke my heart.

          Mike handed the phone back and Lisa told us to wait. We waited. When she was off the phone she found us a couple of chairs, gave us coffee and water. "He's trying to get you direct admitted rather than have you go through the ER," she told us.

          We waited. I was only about a third of the way through my coffee when the call came in and Lisa took us to the ICU. She went to the gal behind the desk. "This is Mr. Luby. We're going to admit him."

          "People don't just walk in here to get admitted." She cocked an eyebrow. "They're either in a wheelchair or on a stretcher. What'd you say his name is?"

          "Michael Luby and this is his wife."

          "Well, I can tell you right now she's not allowed in there and I don't have anything for Mr. Luby."

          "We just came from CT. He's a direct admit," Lisa explained.

          "You came from CT?" she queried. "We've never had anyone admitted directly from CT before. I'm not sure what to do. Let me see what I can find out." And she got on the phone.

          "Lisa," I begged. "Don't let them throw me out. I don't know what's going on or what to expect."

          "I'll try."

          The gal at the desk hung up the phone. "I'm waiting for someone to get back to me." She turned a scorching eye to me. "But she still can't go in."

          "This all has happened so fast," Lisa explained. "Can she wait in the lounge for a doctor to come out and talk to her?"

          "No. It's closed. We're not allowing anyone to wait."

          "Is there someone in cardiology who can come down and talk to them?"

          The gal got on the phone again but there wasn't anyone. There was only one gal up there and she couldn't leave.

          Lisa put her hand on my arm. "I'll get you the doctor's cell number. Wait here."

          Lisa came back and handed me the number. "You can also call me here. I'll be here until midnight if you have any questions or just want someone to talk to." She was so kind.

          "Thank you," I said and knew I wouldn't bother her. "Can I get Mike's phone for him?"

          "Where's it at?" she asked.

          "He left it in the car."

          Lisa turned to the gatekeeper. "Can she get her husband's phone and get it to him?"

          "She'll have to take it to Information and they'll get it to us."

          "I'll go with her and get it." Lisa walked with me to the front entrance and I went out to the Jeep and got Mike's phone. When I brought it back in, Lisa wasn't in sight. "Just put it right there," a gal at the Information desk said pointing to a little table. "Lisa will be right back for it." I did as she asked and left.

          I don't drive very much anymore and as with any skill, if you don't use it, you lose it. I adjusted the seat, heaved a great sigh, started the engine, and prayed the whole way home. Please don't take him yet, Lord, was the main focus of my prayers. I try to stick to the speed limit but not everyone appreciates that. Just outside of Ulster is a passing zone. A little white car with loud exhaust roars past my window scaring me half to death. He scooted back in front of me narrowly missing my front bumper and the front of a big truck that suddenly appeared in the other lane. I bet I wasn't the only one that little white car scared.

          "You could have slowed down and let him pass you," you say.

          I know, right! And I probably would've if I'd've seen him coming. I guess we never know what someone else is going through. He couldn't've guessed that I'd just left my husband in the ICU. I was distracted and focused on staying between the lines and doing the speed limit. He probably just thought I was an old lady out for a Sunday drive and was in his way. I crest the next hill to where I can see a long way in front of me and that little white car was nowhere to be seen. He was probably halfway to Ohio!

          Just outside of North Towanda my phone rings. I glance at it and it's a Sayre phone number. I promised Mike I wouldn't talk on the phone while I was driving so I pulled over and answered it. It was a cardiologist updating me on Mike's condition.

          "He's comfortable and resting well. We're giving him blood thinners to try to dissolve the clots. Depending on how things go we may have to go in through the groin and drip medicine directly onto the clots. He'll have to stay in the ICU for at least a couple of days but everything's going to be just fine," he assured me.

          I was feeling much better as I drove the rest of the way home but was still in a bit of a daze. Unloading the groceries I slowly became aware of a fluttering noise, like wings beating against a surface. I looked in the direction the sound was coming from but it was too dark in that corner of the garage. On my second trip out I took a flashlight with me and looked all around. There wasn't anything there. It must be above the ceiling, I think and wondered if it might be a baby bird since the birds nest in the eaves. Now that I think about it, it's probably way too early for it to be a fledgling but whatever it was, it didn't sound very big.

          I'm glad I'd gotten Mike's phone to him. He called me a bunch of times and since I couldn't see him it helped to make me feel more connected. At some point, we realized that he didn't have a phone charger. "They think they might be able to find me one," Mike told me.

          "Great! It'll save me a trip up."

          I spent the next couple of hours making phone calls and rallying the support of friends and family. The more people who pray for you, the better off you are.

          "I've never spent much time alone before," I confided in my oldest much-adored sister. "Even when Mike I have been apart I've always been with someone else. Like when I spent a week in Arizona with you and Momma."

          Patti laughed. "I know just how you feel," she commiserated. "You'll be like a dog, circling and not finding anyplace to lite."

          She was oh-so-right! I couldn't concentrate long enough to do much of anything that first night.

          "Didn't you watch TV?" Mike asked when I talked to him the next day.

          "I turned it on in the kitchen for a little while," I told him.

          "Why didn't you go in the living room?" he wanted to know. "Oh, wait. I know. Because you don't know how to work that remote."

          "NO!" I was indignant. "I could've figured it out if I'd wanted to. I just didn't want to." It was hard for me to formulate exactly why but with time and distance I know now. The truth of it is that's where WE watch TV and one of us we's was gone. I just couldn't bring myself to watch TV in there without Mike.

          We've been watching Bones. All 12 seasons are free with your Amazon Prime membership. I have to tell you something. I picked out two other series to watch before we tried Bones. They were both so full of bad language that I opted not to watch them. So Mike watched in the afternoons when I don't generally watch TV.

          "What did you try?" you wanna know.

          We tried The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, some kind of comedy, and Hunters, which was about Nazi hunters and hunting Nazis trying to kill each other. After nearly every episode Mike watched, he'd say, "Oh my gosh! That was terrible! Just terrible." He'd shake his head. "The things they did..."

          I wouldn't let him tell me. I don't need those images in my head. Besides, I know some of the atrocities carried out during that period in our history and I know how horrifying they were. "Turn it off," I advise. "Don't watch it." But did he? No!

          "What were you doing when he was watching those shows?" I know you wanna know.

           I put on my headphones and listened to the Christian radio station while I played with my crafts or did chores.

          The next show I picked was Bones. I thought it'd be a safer pick since it was a weekly TV program and as it turns out we are both enjoying it tremendously. Mike talks me into an episode mid-morning, another before the evening news, and two more before bed if there's nothing else on TV — and there hardly ever is.

          "You can't figure out how to get to the internet TV anyway," Mike said when I said I wouldn't watch Bones without him.

          "I bet I could figure it out!" But I didn't try.

          I went to bed early, losing myself in Leota's Garden. Then I heard it. Wings fluttering against the ceiling. Whatever had been in the garage earlier was now in the ceiling over the bedroom.

          He'll have to live or die on his own, I thought sadly. Cause I can't help him get out of there.

          I read until one in the morning. I had to use my eye drops several times but I pushed beyond the discomfort so I'd be tired enough to sleep. It didn't work. I spent a restless night and was up before Itsy and Ginger.

          Mike called Wednesday morning with an update. "They did another CT scan this morning. The left side of my heart is enlarged because it has to work so hard. They're talking about it now, trying to decide what to do."

          I could hear the angst in Mike's voice. I changed the subject, trying to lighten his mood. "How's the battery on your phone?" I asked.

          "It's about half."

          "Lamar offered to run the charger up there for me." My heart melted when Lamar called and offered his services. But I declined because I didn't want to impose.

          Mike thought about it for a moment. "That might be a good idea. I know you don't like to drive and you're upset."

          "Can I send you anything else?"
          "Underwear, socks."

          "You got it." Later I realized I should've thought to send his hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste, but I didn't. And I know they can provide those things for him anyway.

          I called Lamar back and asked if his offer still stood.

          "You bet'cha," he said. "I'll be up in a few minutes to pick it up."

          I can't tell you how blessed I am to have such great friends and neighbors as we have in the Kipps. Who else would've even thought about doing something like that for someone else?

          I expected Miss Rosie would ride up with him but she didn't. I gave her a call. "Lamar said I might just as well stay here and walk Tux."

          "He needs a little me-time?" I wondered.

          "I guess so. He likes to listen to his CDs while he's driving."

          "When are you going for a walk?" I asked.

          "I'm getting my shoes on now."

          "Can I go with you?" I invited myself.

          "Sure!"

          By the time I got to the road Miss Rosie and Tux were in sight. I couldn't take a picture because my camera was acting funny. It didn't want to focus when I used the zoom but otherwise it would focus. "It took a tumble off the front seat when I was coming home yesterday," I told Miss Rosie. "Now's not a good time for me to be needing a new camera. However, if it's just the lens, I've got another one of those."

          We walked and chatted and when we got down to Kimmie's house her cat Lucky came out to greet us. Miss Rosie picked him up and loved on him for a few minutes then put him on Kim's porch.
            Lucky didn't stay on the porch. He followed us down the road.

          "Lamar usually puts him on the porch and he stays there," Miss Rosie told me. "Obviously I didn't do it right."

          Lucky would walk for a while then flop down in front of Tux and wrestle with him. It was so cute.

          My phone rang and it was Mike. "They gave me a choice. We can do the surgery. It's going to take six hours and there's risk involved. Or they could just keep doing what they're doing."

          "What's the doctor advise?"

          "The surgery."

          "Well then that's what I vote for."      

          "It costs more money," he pointed out.

          "I don't care what it costs. I'd rather have you than any amount of money but the choice is yours."

          Mike had a health advocate with him to make sure he told me things right, then she left so we could talk. A little later he calls again. "They're trying to get a team around to do the surgery. With this Coronavirus thing, they've laid a lot of nurses off. When they get ready to do it I'm going to turn my phone off."

          A little later when I called, his phone went right to voice mail so I knew they'd taken him in for the procedure. I'm sure there's a name for it but I don't know what it is. They put two lines in, one through each groin (area between thigh and abdomen) and into the lungs. It didn't take six hours. Mike had to lay still and flat for six hours following it. There were certain bodily functions that had to be done during this time that Mike found extremely embarrassing. Namely, he had to pee and they wouldn't let him sit up do it. They held things in place for him.

          "It's their job," I reminded him.

          "I know."

          "And you don't have anything they haven't seen before." It didn't really make him feel any better. "So how are they going to know if it worked?" I asked. "Are they going to do another CT scan?"

          "No. They won't do another CT scan. The dyes they inject are too hard on the kidneys. They're going to judge by blood tests," he explained.

          Mike and I talked a lot throughout the day. He told me the names of the people who were taking care of him and even some of their backgrounds. He told me what he was watching on TV. He told me what they were feeding him. And of course all the nitty-gritty of bodily functions gone awry too. I had to laugh at some of them. Sorry.

          In the afternoon I took Ginger to the pond to check on the pollywogs. I saw these footprints along the edge and I knew who made them. I wondered if ole Mr. Coon was eating my frog eggs. Do they do that?

          My forsythia is just now starting to come on whereas it's been blooming in other yards for a week now.

          The kindness and generosity of some people just never end, you know what I mean. I expect it's just part of what makes them so special. My driveway beeper went off and Lamar and Tux came walking up to the house. My Miss Rosie sent me homemade beef stew and spice cake.

          "Everything was so good," I told her when I called to thank her.

          "It's really an easy beef stew to make. You put everything into a pan and put it in the oven. There's no standing over a hot stove for hours," she told me, then added, "I didn't put any celery in it."

          I could almost hear a conspiratorial wink in her voice. "Dang! That breaks my heart."

          She laughed. "I'm sure it does. I know you don't like cooked celery but I didn't have any and that's why I didn't put any in."

          "It would've been okay if you had put celery in it. I know how to pick it out." Then I heard Momma, in my heart, where I keep her and all the wise things she's told me over the years. Even if you don't like it you should put it in anyway. It adds to the overall flavor and you won't like it as well without it.

          "I really liked the cake too. It was so yummy I ate both pieces at the same time."

          "It's Lamar's mother's no-egg recipe," she told me. "It's called Salad Dressing Spice Cake."

          "And the frosting was really good. I was scraping the bowl and thinking about picking it up and licking it."

          Rosie laughed. "That's quite alright. It happens around here sometimes too. I think my grandma gave me that recipe and it's just called Brown Sugar Frosting and it's a cooked frosting."

          Miss Rosie would've given me the recipe if I'd've ask for it but I didn't. I know I'll never make it. Mike's favorite cake is just plain white with buttercream frosting and I'm not making it just for me. I'll just mooch off the Kipps whenever Rosie makes it.

          Wednesday evening is when my best girl Jody and I keep each other accountable to do our Bible study.

          "What did you do today?" she asked by way of small talk before we started.

          "Well, I took care of the critters, fed them in the morning and did the litter boxes in the afternoon."

          "Oookay. What else?"

          "I took a walk with Miss Rosie. Played around making some flowers... Oh. And I made homemade bread." An image flashed through my mind's eye. "And I had to scrape bread from the bottom of the oven." I thought about taking a picture of it for you but decided the subject probably wouldn't come up — and here it was coming up!

          "Oh yeah?"

          I could hear Jody wondering how I ended up with bread in the bottom of my oven so I explained. "My pan overflowed. I put it in two pans instead of three this time because I didn't want three loaves of bread." She laughed. I knew how silly it sounded just as soon as it was out of my mouth. "What'd you do today?"

          She sighed. "I worked. That takes up a lot of my time. And we had another lamb born."

          I wished I could run right over and see it but Rona makes that impossible these days.

          I slept much better that night. Of course I was extra tired since I didn't sleep much the night before and I don't nap. 
           Thursday brought more news. "Good news and bad news," Mike told me.

          "Well, give me the good news first."

          "They're taking me up to a regular room today."

          "Yay!" Now I can go see him, I thought. "What's the bad news?"

           "You can't come see me. No visitors allowed."

          I chose to look on the bright side. "Well, at least I don't have to drive the whole way back up there then. When are they going to release you?"

          "Probably Friday." 

          Mike took some pictures with his phone while he was there. He showed me his room in the ICU, all the tubes sticking out of his arms, and when he was transferred to the eighth floor he sent me a picture of the view from his window.

          Thursday was a quiet day for me. We woke to a smattering of snow. I hadn't even known it was supposed to snow! I guess I wasn't paying any attention to the weather forecasts.

          "You've got more coming," friends and family let me know.

          And it did flurry on and off all day. At one point the sun was shining so bright and the snow was coming down so hard I went to look for a snowbow.

          "Did you find one?" you wanna know.

          Nope. No, I didn't. I had been so hoping there was one that I was crestfallen. 

           I spent most of that afternoon writing and not much else. I did realize something about myself though.

          "What's that?" you ask.

          As much as I don't mind doing dishes, a sink full doesn't bother me all that much either. I guess I wash dishes more for Mike than for me, I thought when I passed them for the umpteenth time that day.

          Friday I was up super-duper early. Itsy came to the bedroom door and gave a soft little woof. I heard her, got up, and stayed up.

          A really cute tutorial for homemade no-sew face masks came up on my FaceBook feed that morning. One I was considering trying. For our previous and unavoidable trips out we were using one that used a bandana folded in thirds with rubber bands to loop over the ears. I found that one really hard to breathe through and your voice was so muffled it was hard to be understood when you talk. Plus, the elastic irritated my ears after wearing it for a few hours.

          I downloaded the free pattern then raided my closet for tee shirts I'm not interested in wearing anymore. These masks are double layered so you can slide a paper towel or coffee filter in between and held together with fabric glue. I made two of each color and gave the green and yellowish-green ones to the Kipps. They don't have internet and would never see the tutorial. I'd finished them and just started lunch when Mike called.

          "They're letting me go home. You can start heading this way."

          By the time I'd gotten to Sayre Mike was waiting for me. I was going to drive us home but I don't think Mike really likes my driving. Imagine that. We hadn't gone far when he says, "I'm okay to drive." That was okay by me. I don't like to drive anymore either.

          I've always been so preoccupied with this falling down building encased in a steel frame that I never noticed the pretty little building beside it.

          I'll have to try for a better shot of it next time.

          I tried for another shot of the eagle and felt like I missed it. "Can we turn around and try again?" I asked.

          Mike is a good husband and dutifully made a U-turn for me.

          At least she had her head up this time even if she was looking in the other direction.

          Friday afternoon we got a notice to check our Guthrie account. Once I signed on I could see the results of Mike's test. As they post new test results I get a new notice. I knew that it was bad when he was admitted but reading the test results was the first I'd realized he was marked CRITICAL. Immediate action required.

          "I guess it's a good thing we didn't wait on a CT scan."

          "Yes it is. The one doctor told me if I'd've waited I'd've been dead by the weekend."

          I'm glad we didn't wait.

          "Do they know what caused it?" you wanna know.

          They're pretty sure it started in his leg and that's why his calf was achy but they don't know what caused it. The usual causes are heredity and inactivity.

          Mike has to be on a blood thinner now for six months and we have follow up visits to make and they want him to have a stress test but I'm not going to worry about any of that right now. I'm just going to enjoy having my husband home again.

          Saturday morning we woke to four inches of snow! I took a picture in the early morning light and that makes it look bluish.

          A couple of hours later when I went to feed the ferals and give them fresh water, I glanced toward the pond and it was so pretty I got my camera and took another picture. Again, the light was low so it's still got a bluish tint.

          Oh, that reminds me. I cleaned the contacts on my camera lens and it seems to be working again, just the way it's supposed to. I just thought I'd let you know in case you were thinking about buying me a new Canon EOS 80D with an 18-250mm lens. I know how important the pictures in my letter blogs are to you.

          I don't mind the snow. I don't have to drive in it. All I have to do is sit in my nice warm house and look out at all its beauty. Not everyone is as nonchalant about the snow as I am.

          Itsy wasn't. She went out and came back in. She whined at me so I fed her breakfast. She whined at me again so I let her back outside. She came back in and it wasn't long till she was whining at me again. I let her outside again. She woofed and I let her back in. She went into the other room, turned around and came back out and whined at me again!

          "What is her problem!" I frustratingly yelled to Mike who was in the other room.

          "Who?" he called back.

          "Itsy! She keeps whining at me!"

          I gave her a small treat and went back to working on my letter blog. When next I get up I see Itsy left me a present by the door!

          That shithead! I think. She didn't even whine at me this time!

          But now I know what all her whining meant. She was telling me, "This is BULLSHIT! Snow in the middle of April! I'm pooping in the house today!"

          And she did.

          Let's call this one done!