Peggy's Jibber-Jabber: All Mixed Up

How about an all mixed up week?

“Mixed up with what?” you ask.

Mixed up with last week.

I got tired last week, yes I did. I got tired and cut our visit short before I was done with all my jibber-jabber. But if I hadn’t’ve been tired, I might’ve told you about my recent reading journey.

My oldest, most beautifulest, much-adoredest, sister Patti was late answering our morning love note one morning because, “I got absorbed in my book, they always get good at the end, and lost track of time.”

That piqued my curiosity. “What are you reading?” I asked.

“Sphere by Michael Crichton. I don’t normally like sci-fi but he’s an excellent writer. It's a page turner.”

I immediately went to the library and put Sphere on hold. That was back near the end of May. It would be weeks before my turn came up.

I didn’t just sit back and wait for it. I went about reading whatever else caught my fancy, reading thirteen books in the interim. One of those was In His Shadow by Audrey Blake. It was about the early days of women in medicine and I believe I told you about it. I was reading a continuation of that story, The Surgeon’s Daughter, when my turn came up for Sphere.

What am I going to do now? I wondered. If I stop reading The Surgeon’s Daughter to start Sphere, there’s no telling when I’ll get it back again. I could delay delivery of Sphere by letting the next person in line have it and it’ll be back to me in two weeks —but it won’t take me two weeks to finish The Surgeon’s Daughter then I’d be without a book until Sphere came back around or I’d be in the middle of another book!

I decided to take my chances that I’d finish both books before my time was up. I accepted Sphere and poured on the steam to finish The Surgeon’s Daughter.

“How did you like it?” you ask.

I’m so glad you asked! I liked it, I really did. And sometimes books inadvertently give you an education — teach you something you didn’t know before.

“Like what?” you ask.

In the book, one of the doctors was probing a fractured bone of a boy and pricked himself. (X-rays wouldn’t come into use for another fifty years.) He didn’t tell anyone. The boy dies from tetanus (lockjaw) and the doctor ends up with the infection. Since the doctor had a supporting role in the book, it detailed the progression of tetanus up until he died from it. The vaccine for tetanus wasn’t developed until 1924, much later than the setting of this book.

“I had no idea that the muscles can spasm so hard it can break your bones,” I told my beautiful friend Jody after church one day. I don’t know how the subject came up unless it was just fresh on my mind.

“Really‽”

She seemed interested so I went on. “Did you know there’s a website that tells you all about what it’s like to die from something like tetanus?” Authors can and do take ‘creative liberties’. I wondered how close her depiction of dying from tetanus was so I’d gone to the website to find out. She did her research.

Jody cocked her head sideways a little. “I did not know that.”

“Yep. And you can even find out what it’s like to be flayed alive or drawn and quartered…” I let it trail off because I could tell I was grossing her out.

“I don’t want to know all that,” she said with a nervous little laugh.

“I stumbled on it when I wondered what our Lord went through when he was crucified for us.” I answered the unspoken question in her eyes.

“That might be interesting,” she said and our conversation moved on.

I finished The Surgeon’s Daughter in three more days and started Sphere. Patti was right! It was a page turner! I could hardly put it down and finished it in six days.

“Wasn’t that a movie?” you ask.

It was! But I’d not seen it. I made my own movie, in my head.

Finishing a book, especially when it’s a really good book like Sphere, always leaves me with a letdown feeling. Now I’ve got to find another book to read!

“Peg, do you ever take ‘creative liberties’?” you wanna know.

I do! Mostly to make my stories more interesting or flow better, but I always preserve the integrity of the story. Like I might show a road picture in a different set of photos. It still remains a road picture but not necessarily on the day I was talking about when I showed it.

Sometimes it happens because I’ve made a mistake and it’s too hard to fix. That’s thanks to the software I use. Adding words and sentences or whole paragraphs makes my pictures jump around and changes my page breaks. That is such a pain to deal with and can take hours to straighten out. If it’s not a serious mistake, I let it ride. Sometimes I think you’ll call me on it, but you never do.

Then there’s now — this letter blog. I took some creative liberties with my opening quote by my sister Patti. It wasn’t Sphere she was reading when she got all caught up in the story and was late answering our morning love note. But in my memory it was. Since it all happened months ago, we can blame that on faulty memory and not blatant lying. Then when I found out my mistake, I didn’t change it. She did actually say Sphere was a page turner but it was A Place of Hiding by Elizabeth George that caused her to be late. It’s too hard to re-write the segment and makes my story flow nicely, so I left it.

“Did you read A Place of Hiding?” you wanna know.

Not yet. It’s on my ‘holds’ shelf at the library and it’s still six weeks before my turn comes up.

If I hadn’t’ve been so tired last week, I might’ve told you about our trip to the recycle station.

Mike took the back roads and even with my bad eyes, I spotted the Sandhill Cranes in the field. With full zoom and cropping, this is the best picture I have of them.

All of this we saved from the landfill!

On the way home we spot a gas drilling rig on the horizon.

We’re getting another well close enough to us that we got paperwork informing us.

We made a stop for milk and dog treats at the Dollar General. Standing at the checkout, I glance down and spot one of these.

Immediately, the beautiful face and melodious laugh of my old, old, old, old, old —

“Okay Peg! They get the idea!” Trish says laughing.

She’s not much older than I am but we’ve been friends forever and a day.

The first time I had one of these was because of Trish. Then it seems like I had to have one every day for a week after that — and it’s been forever and a day since I’ve had one.

And this little girl is gonna start us off with this week’s jibber-jabber.

Raini is getting too big for her bed under my desk but she still lays in it. Sometimes all curled up like she is in this picture, and sometimes, when she gets too warm, with just her butt in it.

We took her for a run back to our neighbor Vernon’s pond. It’s the only way she can run flat out and not risk getting hit by a car. She seemed to enjoy it.

When we stopped to let her get back onboard, I saw we had a hitchhiker.

This is a Katydid.

Katydids, sometimes called a Long-horned Grasshopper or Bush Crickets, are close relatives of grasshoppers and crickets and there are more than six thousand species. They live for less than a year and produce one generation of offspring, the eggs being the only life stage capable of surviving winter.

The common true katydid produces the repetitive song for which katydids are named; the song is phoneticized as “katy-did, katy-didn’t.” However, each species of katydid has its own rasping song.

This guy is not a true katydid. I think he’s a Bush Katydid.

“Since we’re out, can we go out to the old house that’s falling down?” I asked Mike.

“Sure. Why?”

“Because I wanna see if the Turtlehead is blooming?” I don’t know what brought these wildflowers to mind and I don’t even know if it’s the right time of year.

“Where are they?” Mike asked.

“If we go out to the house and turn around, they’re beside the road along in there someplace.”

The house is slowly falling in on itself and the leafed-out trees obscure it.

Mike turns around and heads for home. “Is this slow enough?” he asked.

“Sure. They’re kind of a big flower. I’ll see them.”

Then I spot a few. It looks like my timing is good and the flowers are just coming on.

Look at all the dust!

“Peg, what do you know about Turtlehead?” you ask.

I know that it goes by many names including Shellflower, Snakehead, Snakemouth, Cod Head, Fish Mouth, Balmony, and Bitter Herb. But since the flower resembles the head of a turtle, Turtlehead is its popular name.

I also know that it’s a host plant to the Baltimore Checkerspot butterfly.

As far as folk medicine goes, Turtlehead works principally with the liver, gallbladder, and kidneys to rid the body of toxins and infections. The bitter compounds in turtlehead stimulate the secretion of digestive juices, promoting good digestion as well as relieving constipation. Other conditions aided by turtlehead include jaundice, gallstones, and inflammation of the gallbladder. It was also traditionally prescribed for the expulsion of roundworms and threadworms.

It was such a beautiful day that we continued our ride on down to Gooseneck Road. We were lucky we didn’t have a lot of traffic to dust us; that made our ride that much more enjoyable.

Advertising is a powerful tool. Mike and I both fall victim to its wily ways sometimes. For Mike, it was the Arby’s commercial promoting their new fish strips.

“I’d like to try those,” Mike says every time the commercial comes on.

This week we made a trip to Sayre and Arby’s for just that reason. Mike got the fish, I got the basic roast beef and we shared. It was okay but I don’t think we have to rush right back for it again anytime soon.

We stopped at Lowe’s for a couple of things and coming out we see a guy a few parking spaces over with his hood up. “Are you going to see if you can help him?” I asked.

“No,” Mike said.

I got in, heard Mike open the back door and put the concrete anchors in, but he never gets in. I look and he’s over talking to that guy.

As I was sitting in the car watching this, thinking of Mike’s first response of “no” then going to help anyway, reminded me of a parable Jesus told in the Bible. You’ll find it in Matthew 21:28-32. One son said no, he wouldn’t go into the vineyard to work, later repented and went. The second son said he’d go but never did. Which did his father’s will?

They move around to the front and have their heads bent over the engine. Mike reaches in and does something, stands there a few more minutes talking, then comes back to the car.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“His car won’t start and we don’t have any jumper cables. I checked the battery terminals but they seem tight. I don’t know. I can’t help him.”

We stopped at the thrift store and I picked up a couple of stuffed animals for the girls to tear apart.

“Why do you do that?” Mike asked.

“You’ll spend seven or eight dollars for a toy for them to tear up. These were only twenty-five cents each. I gave her a dollar for both of them.”

“So they were fifty-cents each,” Mike points out.

“No. They were twenty-five cents! I donated the rest.”

We’ll fight about that one till the cows come home!

It started raining on the way home.

“I just washed the car!” Mike lamented. “Now it’s going to get all dirty.”

I couldn’t care less if the car gets dirty. “You’ve got a pressure washer. You can rinse it off before you put it in the garage,” I pointed out.

Heading out of Wysox, the sky starts to open up before us.

We’re almost to Wyalusing and we drive right out of the rain. I can look back over my shoulder and see the rain line.

Wyalusing has a new park. I saw pictures on Facebook and recognized the train bridge.

“Remember when we saw people working down in the flood plain past the junk shop?” I asked Mike.

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s a park down there now.”

“You want to drive down and check it out?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let’s.”

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “What a nice park! It even has Frisbee golf! I wonder how long it’s been here.”

We drove down the ramp that gives access to the creek which then runs into the Susquehanna. There’s the train bridge I recognized on FB.

We were driving out and see a woman walking away from her car.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Mike said and used the controls on his side of the car to put my window down.

“Excuse me!” I called.

She turned and said, “Hello!” in a bright and cheerful voice.

I love when people like to talk. Too many times this past week we tried talking to one person or another in one of the stores we were in and they just ignored us.

“How long’s this park been here?” I asked.

A light came on in her eyes. “We started it last year.”

Then I recognized her. “You’re Sukie, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” She kinda cocked her head sideways and I could see she was trying to figure out who we were. We’ve only met her a couple of times. Sue Keeney Burgess is the mayor of Wyalusing plus she’s the aunt of Dana, our old insurance agent. Mike would go in to the office to find out something about his insurance and spend an hour talking to Dana. Plus, Dana lived not far from us, so she was kind of a neighbor.

“First, let me say how sorry we are to hear about Dana,” I told Sukie. “It was such a tragedy.” Dana was killed in a car accident a little less than a month ago.

“Yes, it was. We miss her so much.”

Our conversation moved on and Sukie told us about the companies and private citizens who’ve donated to the city park. She was just amazed at the amount of money that was given to the city.

“We’ve got a sign coming for up on the road, we’re going to blacktop the first part of the road coming down into the park, and we’re going to put barbeques in, too.”

Sukie told us this was actually phase two of the plan for the park and got it done before phase one. Something to do with DNR. She also mentioned that she was there to inspect the concrete benches, inscribed in memory of, that were just installed the day before. It was just happenstance that we caught her there and had such a nice conversation.

Our dogs are spoiled. Bondi especially thinks she has to have a new toy every time we come home from the store. I gave them the stuffed bear I’d gotten from the thrift store and they played tug o’ war through the flap in the screen door. They’ve had it for most of a week now and they play with it but haven’t torn it apart.

We also made a couple of shopping trips this week and this is where I get to tell on myself. I saw the commercial for the Cheez-It Puff’d snacks and on the way down the grocery store aisle I snagged a bag and dropped it in the buggy. It wasn’t until I got home that I saw I’d picked up Scorchin’ Hot Cheddar — I didn’t even know it came in different flavors! They are hot!

They’re also a disappointment. I don’t know what I was expecting but they’re like all the other puffed snacks out there except they’re square. They didn’t really satisfy whatever itch it had created in me so the next trip out I got a box of plain old cheese crackers.

“Extra Toasty” it says big as day. I’m okay with extra toasty. As soon as we’re in the car I open the box to sample them.

“Hmm. Extra toasty is code for burnt,” I told Mike. Another disappointment.

I give up. I’m not buying anymore snacks! Although, I have to tell you that the Doritos have been calling my name and trying to tempt me every time I walk past them!

I’m going to stick to my oyster crackers! They’re never a disappointment to me.

Short of throwing the other two out, I discovered I can eat them if I mix ‘em together with my oyster crackers.

Advertisers are good at making things look better than they really are.

I received a card in the mail this week from a friend of mine. As soon as I saw it, I thought J.D. was making cards on his computer again and thought it was pretty cool. Then I read the note.

“As soon as I knew it was your birthday, I knew what I wanted to send you,” J.D. wrote. “A friend of mine is one of the popular Native American artists in here. We know him as Rue. He’s full blood Kiowa and is into all kinds of art. I especially like his teepees. So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Peg!”

My jaw dropped and my heart swelled! I’ve been gifted a beautiful piece of artwork by a Kiowa artist and I couldn’t be more pleased! I’m going to frame it and I’m going to write Rue a letter of thanks. J.D. I’m going to thank here.

Thank you, J.D. I absolutely love, love, love it!

Something else that came in the mail was a new dog door. Raini and Bondi come barreling through the door in the screen at a hundred miles an hour, chasing each other. As you can well imagine, someone misjudged and took out the screen. It’s not too big of a deal to fix, I just used a screwdriver to put the spline back in the channel.

Putting the dog door in is a different matter entirely.

We decided where we wanted it and Mike cut the hole on the outside of the wall. Then he drilled holes in the corners so we could match it up inside. Our walls are like fifteen inches thick.

Then we went inside.

Yeah. Nothing ever goes as easy as we think it should. Mike had to move the outlet box.

Both the girls come through the flap just fine.

“Let’s get another one and have a flap on the inside, too,” Mike suggested. “It might help when winter comes.” He got online and it was here two days later.

It’s directly under the coat rack and right where I always take off my muddy winter boots. I bet you can’t tell that. The floor paint will never be white again.

They provide a cover you can put on to keep out unwanted critters, but it defeats the purpose of having the door. Raini is completely housebroken — as long as she can go in and out when she wants to. She doesn’t know how to tell me to open the door and this fixes that problem. Plus, we never have to worry about being gone too long.

I don’t feed anything on the kitchen patio anymore since Mr. Mister died, except the birds. There’s no food out there to attract the skunks, possums, or coons. We’ll see if they find the door. What a mess that will be if they do! Can you imagine me running around with a broom and screaming like a banshee to get it out of the house while trying to wrangle two dogs the whole time? I’m really looking forward to that day!

On a walkabout with the girls, I let them out the back gate and they ran right past this guy, never seeing him. I was glad for that!

I stopped and took pictures of the White Baneberry or Doll’s Eyes. This is a toxic plant that only birds can eat.

At the pond, we surprised not one, not two, but three Green Herons!

One flew into the tree over my head.

The other two flew up into a tree on the other side of the pond.

The berries of the Silky Dogwood are turning purple. This is an important plant as the fruit is eaten by game birds, but it’s especially important as a food source for migrating songbirds. The twigs are important because they provide winter browse for deer and rabbits.

The Teasel is blooming. I found a Soldier Beetle sipping nectar from this one.

The first Aster of the year!

Our new pastor is set to come next Sunday. After service we’re having a potluck. I found a recipe on my Facebook feed for Cherry Bars for a Crowd. I hate to make something untried to a potluck, so I did a dry run.

Now. I don’t need this many cherry bars hanging around my house — nobody does! I had to recruit a couple of friends and neighbors to test it out for me.

Personally, I’m not crazy about cherries. They rank right up there with blueberries in my book. I’ll eat them, but only if there isn’t anything else. I thought the cakey crust was a little much or maybe it just needs more filing.

Mike likes them — although he only ate a very small piece.

The Robinsons liked them, but Steph could see what I was talking about with all the crust.

The Raymonds liked them, too, but Jody agrees with me. Needs more filling.

And I haven’t heard from anybody else.

I’m going to make them for the potluck and I bought two extra cans of filling in case one extra wasn’t enough.

I finished the sport box this week, except for putting felt on the inside. I sure hope the customer likes it!

While sitting on the patio, working on my crafts, I could hear a cricket making his mating call. He lives somewhere over there with the post or flowerpot or water dish or maybe between the three. All I know is that I’d hear him call, and call, and call. It got to where it was just white noise.

Then one day I noticed a change in his tune. I stopped to listen and heard a second cricket. It almost sounded like they were purring. It made me smile.

Well, she only hung out with him for a day or so then was gone. You know how I know? His solitary calls started up again!

Speaking of crafts, this is what I’m working on now — and I feel guilty.

“Why?” you ask.

Because I’ve still got glass projects sitting here that need repair and have been sitting here for months, then there’s Valentines I haven’t finished and sent out. Yep, you heard that right! Valentines! But I think I’ll finish this song board for my Miss Rosie with her mother’s favorite hymn then get back to doing a little glass work.

And here I get to tell on myself again!

I was looking for my other blue rubber band. I know I had two of them but I could only find one. I don’t want to lose my clay so I wrap it in plastic and put it in a bag, put a rubber band around it and put it inside another bag and maybe one more bag just to be safe. I picked up my stack of bags and shook them out looking for that second blue rubber band. I even searched the floor! I gave up and when I picked up the pack of clay that had been sitting in front of me the whole time, guess what I found?

Don’t laugh! It could happen to you!

And now I have to tell you. It’s time.

“Time for what?” you ask.

It’s time for me to get my cataracts removed. I called and made an appointment. Bright and early we got up and it was still foggy when we headed for Scranton.

My eyesight in my left eye is 20/200, legally blind. The right eye is 20/70, low vision.

“I have an opening on Wednesday if you can get your doctor’s clearance,” Dr. Bucci told me.

When we got back in the car, I called my doctor. I can get in on Tuesday. Talk about cutting it close.

“The deadline for a Wednesday surgery is the Friday before,” the gal told me when I called. “But if you can have it here by Tuesday afternoon, we’ll get you in.”

I don’t expect any problems with my pre-surgical checkup. I don’t take any meds and my blood pressure is good.

“You’re not going to blind me?” I asked Dr. Bucci.

“I hope not. That would be bad for business.”

Nonetheless, I’m nervous about having someone poking around in my eye. If I lose my sight, no more letter blogs. If I lose my sight, no more crafts. I think I’d die.

You could say a little prayer for me, if you would.

Three days before surgery, you have to use eyedrops. It was Friday afternoon until the prescription was called in. “If we go over in the morning and get them, we could stop and have breakfast and I can have biscuits and gravy.” Mark’s Valley View only serves B&G on the weekends. I didn’t have to work too hard to convince Mike.

Saturday morning, we head out. It was just past eight and I thought Mark’s would be hoppin’ with a breakfast crowd, but there weren’t any cars there. Pulling up to the door, we see a sign. “Closed Sat. Aug 20^th Due to being short staffed.”

I can’t imagine the business he lost.

We went past Kristi’s Kountry Kitchen because there were a lot of cars there and it’s a small place. We ended up at T&C in Tunkhannock. I got my B&G and ate about half of it. They had a funny tang to them, like they used Worchestershire Sauce in it. It wasn’t the tang of bad meat, I think I would’ve recognized that, or if it was, it didn’t make me sick.

Mike got an omelet and was happy with it and the rye bread. In fact, he liked it so much we stopped at their bakery and got a loaf to take home.