living alone

I have lived alone very little in my lifetime. 

Until this year, the only time I really lived alone was the summer after I was 18 when I was on a Forest Service fire lookout. That was in the top left corner of Montana. The closest neighbor was 7 miles away, by trail. 

It was a wonderful summer. I had a radio and could get Spokane radio stations. The FS had a radio and a telephone on the tower. The telephone worked among the 5 or 6 lookout towers and the headquarters station. Couldn’t call out if you wanted. The radio was for communication, and was used frequently. Here I have my cell phone, cable TV, decent internet and my local favorite NPR radio station. 

Talk about luxuries. 

This year is my 2nd stint of living alone. I know Miriam is still with me and I see her every day, but he does not sleep in my tiny house, and if I bring over it is for a visit and a meal. So, even though there is an asterisk involving a footnote, I live alone.

Mostly it is fine, and if I do get lonesome I can go in the big house and visit with Miriam or daughter or a grandkid or two. 

So, my 2nd bout of living alone is going quite well. 

Daughter's orchid; gold gold fish; Her loving hands; Her corner.

Once a long time ago someone repeated the line on the needlework. I tried to live by that one. 

grieving

I am going through pre-loss grieving.

For a bit I thought I thought that one up, but it is more common than I might wish, I guess.

As I write, I am sitting across from my beloved. She is asleep as she is most of the time now. Her jaw is slack, her eyes are sunken, her eyes are closed. She does not look alive really.

Yesterday we bought her a new bed, one that will be more comfortable for her and one that is comfortable enough for me so I can rest with her. When this is all over, I can take the bed to Idaho, maybe. 

I went to a wood wind concert last night (about 100 great collegiate musicians doing wonderful music). When I returned Miriam was in bed and Arline told me that she had been very upset, crying, even shouting at times. She was not married and “who are you?” When I got there, I took my shoes off and laid down beside her, snuggling under the other half of the top blanket.

“Who are you?” “I am David your husband of almost 57 years.” “I married you on June 10, 1956 and that we had been married ever since. “Then why has it been so long since you have been here?”

“I was with you all day today.” 

“Ohh.”

Finally, she settled down to sleep and I got an hour early sleep lying beside her. 

It was good and not so good at the same time.

The daughter who came the furthest informed the others that the purpose of the trip was to be with Dad. We had some good face time.

Friday I came down with a nasty cold, so I was barely conscious Saturday. Today I was up to somewhere in the 90 percentile There is nothing like being sick to appreciate health.

This after noon daughter 4 drove back to Portland, and tomorrow I take daughter 3 to the airport an hour away so she can fly back to SanFrancisco. It will just be us then.

They are concerned about their father, that he is healthy and yet does not seem to have a driving force right now (that is my diagnosis not theirs! Truthfully, just taking care of Miriam does not allow too much effort in thinking ahead.

"What is your biggest dream, dad" they asked. "Go over the top and list the big one."

Of course, that is a lot easier to talk about to some one else than to do for and to yourself, so I will work on it. To this point my head has asked: "When it is possible and permissible to think in the future?"

Daughters say it is now, I am not totally sure!

Today the daughters were all here. They are not sure how their mom will be in a few months, so they were intent on getting a photographer. Friend Elwin, who is an amazing chap, agreed to do the Portraits.  I am impressed. 

It was about noon and there was little shade. If you look at the top photograph, the sun is shining just a few inches past our toes!

These are wonderful woman, and their old daddy adores them.
The lower picture, by the way, was taken on the front porch of my little house. 

Cats?

cougar

A bit ago David (Grandson #1) was hiking a trail not far from his home in Northern California.

The trail was one he had hiked many times before. He knew it well. Then, he looked up and there was a real live Cougar staring at him. Maybe 5 feet away.

There was cell coverage so he called his wife and she looked up a number for the Fish and Game. The FG guys stayed on the phone. For an hour the big cat circled. It was way after dark when David blew his whistle and flashed his light in hope of  scaring the critter. The cat circled closer.

At that moment the F&G chopper came over the ridge and the cougar finally fled.

Next day the F&G guys went out to see what was going on. The cat stalked them too. Unfortunately that was a bad decision for the cat, and for "public safety", he/she was "put down."

I lived for 3 summers in the wilds of Montana, I have gone camping countless times and I have never even seen a Cougar.

It seems that as we invade more and more of the wild spaces (not so much hikers as roads and homes) these critters are losing their fear of mankind. That is not good for either.

blue monday

If today were Monday it would be blue monday.

Not totally sure why, but little things pile up.

A friend, not of the bosom variety, but a friend still, is "shutting down." He has suffered from AD for a while, but not as long as Miriam. He will go in the next few days. We are not close friends, but i grew up with his wife's family. 

And it hurts to loose another to this damnable disease.

So I look forward, but sure to what. 

A few years ago I wrote this 5 liner: 

The cupboards are full of emotion

Memories

Regrets

Broken promises

Hell on a half shell.

Idaho

Early this week I made a trip back to Idaho.

I had daughter 2 and our youngest granddaughter, who was going to enroll in a small private boarding school up in the mountains of Idaho.

The trip went well. Granddaughter was enrolled successfully, I spent a few hours with an old friend and we came back to Caldwell to stay another night at our house there.

The house is kind of like advanced camping. There are two bedrooms upstairs that are easily heated and beds that are comfortable. One bedroom has 50 packing boxes, mostly of stuff that came out of the pantry, the other a huge stack of doors that came out of the kitchen.

Still, it has hot water and with a couple of small electric heaters it is comfortable.

What to do with the place? I am not sure, my mind jumps back and forth. But or now, I have decided to put off any plans.

It is a crazy little house, but it is so full of wonderful memories.

King Louis

Last spring we bought 10 "day old" chicks.

There were 4 breeds: Silver Laced Wyandottes, Buff Orphingtons, Barred Plymouth Rock and a couple Rhode Island Reds. Each was given a name right after they arrived on the farm. Daughter could tell each one from the other. One looked a little strange after a bit and turned out to be a big beautiful Rooster.

Of the breeds we have the male of the Silver Laced Wyandottes is the most beautiful, and that is what we had. His chick name was Lulu, so when it was obvious that Lulu was not going to work he became King Louis.

He kept the eggs fertilized and us aware of his presence.

Then he began to attack people. First my teen age granddaughters, then my daughter, then a grandson. At that point he committed the unforgivable, he attacked me. The next day an ad was placed in "FreeCycle" offering a beautiful rooster. "We would prefer him to go to a home with loving care, but. . . "

Within hours a deal was made, and that evening, after he had gone to roost, he was whisked away. His new abode is in a pen with two hens. He won't be able to attack people easily.

The remaining 8 hens do not seem to miss him at all. They seem to be content (I admit I do not speak the chicken dialect, so I am guessing) and a LOT quieter with him gone. It is a lot quieter around here, but Louis did give the place a certain amount of class.

Maybe there is a lesson there!

days I miss

Tonight after I put Miriam in bed I sat and edited old blog entries.

I began this blog in October 2007. Miriam was still doing well, but the sword of Damocles was hanging over our heads. We were waiting, even if we did not know what we were waiting for.

Tonight I watched a sad movie of a father who was dying. He was divorced from the mother of his two children. It made me sad. But they talked, they argued, they hugged. They had good conversations right up to the end. That is not how AD works.

My sister who is a writer and publisher wants me to put the early blog pieces into a smallish book that can be listed on Amazon.com for a few bucks. I am resisting, she is persisting. It is a story I want to tell, but there has to be an end to the story and we are not there yet, so I will put it off.

Yet tonight I copied the first three months of this blog and put it all in a file in my computer. Not complex stuff really. As I read and edited and cut out the duplicate chatter, I was remind of how far we have come.

Once we argued over whether she had AD or not. Now she get short with me when I don't dress or undress her. I pull her hair, or I pull her shirt over her bosoms and that hurts or I pull the turtle neck shirt off her head and that hurts.

What we don't have is a real conversation. I miss those days.