Guys...you got to share
14 years ago
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Tree Murderer part 2
The City of Marathon Biologist for Protected Species stopped by our property to take a look. She laughed. Oh yeah, she agreed. A direct line of foliage damage/death from our neighbor's balcony to the ocean view. Now we have to have the soil tested. Too bad none of the foliage was "protected" or we wouldn't have to do a thing. They really go after anyone who touches the wrong leaves down here!
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Tree Murderer
I got the strangest call today while working at the motel. A neighbor called, and in a very excited voice told me that "we have a real problem." Oh boy, do I hate to hear words like that. Owning a business on the edge of a residential area has brought us face to face with numerous dilemmas. How do you tell neighbors that your motel pool does not really belong to the neighborhood when you see whole families enjoying it as though they were guests? Or how do you deal with neighborhood kids stealing your maintenance supplies to build a playhouse? And why is our dumpster the home for all the neighborhood trash when we have to pay to have it hauled away and all they have to do is drag it to the curb and it is removed for free?
But this call was made out of concern for us. We own a weekly rental property on the water at the end of the street. It is lovely, peaceful, has its own dock, ramp and small pool. The house next door, also on the water, is in foreclosure. And the neighbor next to it, one house away from the water, decided several months ago that he would take advantage of the lack of inhabitants, and he chopped all the landscaping and trees that obstructed his view of the water down to the ground. It looked post-apocalyptic and our guest's privacy and views of tropical foliage was now gone. The neighbor reported this to us and Harry confronted the man who was the butcher and also made a police report in hopes of dissuading any further Edward Scissorhand tactics. We then decided to plant our own landscaping to block the view of the decimated neighbor's yard. But lately, those beautiful plants and trees have been looking stressed.
Vivienne, the concerned neighbor, wanted to let me know that in the past two weeks, our huge, healthy coconut palm at water's edge had lost all foliage and is dead. She seemed to be personally distraught over its demise. We discussed the possibility of a lightening strike and she reported all electrical activity in the past months down to exact locations of storms! And, she "suggested" that we take a soil sample to rule out any foul play.
Hmmm, this seemed a little strange. Trees don't die down here in two weeks. In fact, you cannot stop things from growing short of natural disaster such as a hurricane or direct thunderbolt hit. And, most interestingly, this tree is also in the direct line of sight from the 'neighbor with the heavy clippers' home to the water. Harry wasted no time marching over to his house and this time, the man's girlfriend who answered the door confessed that they had cut the foliage, but that "she" was not involved in poisoning the tree. But Harry said her boyfriend was skulking about in the background and when she said she wasn't involved, she looked back at him. Aha! So Harry told him he was testing the tree and all of the soil around our property. I am not sure what else was relayed but knowing Harry, I am sure it was succinct and to the point that this guy better not be involved.
So downstairs is a bundle of withered palm leaves. And we will take they to the County Extension for testing. And if we do find some traces of chemicals, what then? I will have to let you know. But in the meantime there is a very old, and very large coconut tree trunk with nary a branch on it to sway gracefully in the breeze or to be framed by a reddening sunset streaked sky. And I am sure, there is neighborhood discussion with the new unfolding drama.
But this call was made out of concern for us. We own a weekly rental property on the water at the end of the street. It is lovely, peaceful, has its own dock, ramp and small pool. The house next door, also on the water, is in foreclosure. And the neighbor next to it, one house away from the water, decided several months ago that he would take advantage of the lack of inhabitants, and he chopped all the landscaping and trees that obstructed his view of the water down to the ground. It looked post-apocalyptic and our guest's privacy and views of tropical foliage was now gone. The neighbor reported this to us and Harry confronted the man who was the butcher and also made a police report in hopes of dissuading any further Edward Scissorhand tactics. We then decided to plant our own landscaping to block the view of the decimated neighbor's yard. But lately, those beautiful plants and trees have been looking stressed.
Vivienne, the concerned neighbor, wanted to let me know that in the past two weeks, our huge, healthy coconut palm at water's edge had lost all foliage and is dead. She seemed to be personally distraught over its demise. We discussed the possibility of a lightening strike and she reported all electrical activity in the past months down to exact locations of storms! And, she "suggested" that we take a soil sample to rule out any foul play.
Hmmm, this seemed a little strange. Trees don't die down here in two weeks. In fact, you cannot stop things from growing short of natural disaster such as a hurricane or direct thunderbolt hit. And, most interestingly, this tree is also in the direct line of sight from the 'neighbor with the heavy clippers' home to the water. Harry wasted no time marching over to his house and this time, the man's girlfriend who answered the door confessed that they had cut the foliage, but that "she" was not involved in poisoning the tree. But Harry said her boyfriend was skulking about in the background and when she said she wasn't involved, she looked back at him. Aha! So Harry told him he was testing the tree and all of the soil around our property. I am not sure what else was relayed but knowing Harry, I am sure it was succinct and to the point that this guy better not be involved.
So downstairs is a bundle of withered palm leaves. And we will take they to the County Extension for testing. And if we do find some traces of chemicals, what then? I will have to let you know. But in the meantime there is a very old, and very large coconut tree trunk with nary a branch on it to sway gracefully in the breeze or to be framed by a reddening sunset streaked sky. And I am sure, there is neighborhood discussion with the new unfolding drama.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Happy Birthday to Me
I suggest that after the age of 21, we just stop fussing over birthdays, OK? Not that I don't really love the attention and cards and calls from friends and families. I do!! I mean to re-establish the cause for those displays to something that is NOT a reminder that time is marching on. Those of us of a certain age are totally able to understand my thinking. Not only do I not recognize myself in reflections in glass any more due to the physical reminders of aging, I also am prone to thinking about how much time is "left." I am not being morbid, just practical. If I buy a tree that is slow growing, will I get to see it at the height of its glory. And, will I get to see my grand kids weddings, babies, etc. Who knows? I don't obsess over these issues but I am sure that most of our lives, we think occasionally about how much time we have left.
One thing that I refuse to be a party to, and I certainly hope those nearest and dearest will give me a big boot in the bootie if I do it, is the constant comments about age. I hate when people talk about getting old. Forget that BS. If you have aches and pains, take an Advil. Really. This is all about attitude. Of course there are health related realities. I worked for nine hours outside last Sunday and yes, I was sore on Monday. But I think the important part of this paragraph is that I WORKED OUTSIDE FOR NINE HOURS ON SUNDAY. And until something major and debilitating gets me, I plan to continue. Let my son tell me to pull up anchor in 5 foot waves while balancing on the bow of the boat. I will try!
I find it incredibly annoying when I present some new gadget, gizmo, book, TV show or fad to a peer and they act critical. Like I am putting cyanide on a spoon and asking them to taste. I do not want to be one of those people who act old and think old and I am putting this out to all of my compadres, don't do it either. Let us face this next chapter of life with interest and enthusiasm. I will never forget one of Harry's dad's friends. She was in her 80's at the time and at a fancy dinner party and I saw a little electronic thing on the table next to her plate. It was allowing her to keep up with the baseball scores of her beloved Indians. I just loved the irreverence to the surrounding and her technology interest in a gadget I had not yet seen. So take my hand and lets have some fun. Red Rover anyone? Mother May I? How about a good game of tag? Jack and Ruby, here I come, ready or not.
One thing that I refuse to be a party to, and I certainly hope those nearest and dearest will give me a big boot in the bootie if I do it, is the constant comments about age. I hate when people talk about getting old. Forget that BS. If you have aches and pains, take an Advil. Really. This is all about attitude. Of course there are health related realities. I worked for nine hours outside last Sunday and yes, I was sore on Monday. But I think the important part of this paragraph is that I WORKED OUTSIDE FOR NINE HOURS ON SUNDAY. And until something major and debilitating gets me, I plan to continue. Let my son tell me to pull up anchor in 5 foot waves while balancing on the bow of the boat. I will try!
I find it incredibly annoying when I present some new gadget, gizmo, book, TV show or fad to a peer and they act critical. Like I am putting cyanide on a spoon and asking them to taste. I do not want to be one of those people who act old and think old and I am putting this out to all of my compadres, don't do it either. Let us face this next chapter of life with interest and enthusiasm. I will never forget one of Harry's dad's friends. She was in her 80's at the time and at a fancy dinner party and I saw a little electronic thing on the table next to her plate. It was allowing her to keep up with the baseball scores of her beloved Indians. I just loved the irreverence to the surrounding and her technology interest in a gadget I had not yet seen. So take my hand and lets have some fun. Red Rover anyone? Mother May I? How about a good game of tag? Jack and Ruby, here I come, ready or not.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Zippo
My next door neighbor, Kirby, is a sweet man. I have no idea what his age is, or what his real name is. He is just Kirby. He and his wife have had their share of health problems and aging issues in the past few years. Martha, his wife, is housebound and on oxygen. Recently she fell and broke her hip. Kirby suffers from macular degeneration and can barely see. Now his hearing is failing and recently he had a bout with bladder cancer. He is a wizened little thing, a chain smoker who likes to sit and listen to talk news on the radio and sporting events. He is a gentle, kind man. The neighbors love he and Martha and look out for them.
Kirby and Martha have a Jack Russell terrier named Zippo. At one point Zippo weighed in at 27#. If you know the breed, this is about 10-15 pounds more than he should have been. He waddled around like a Thanksgiving dressed turkey on bandy legs. Last summer, when Matt was visiting and cleaning fish at the dock, he threw a huge smelly piece of skin and fish flesh to a staring egret sitting on Kirby's dock next to ours. Before the bird could get to it, Zippo hobbled over and grabbed it and ran on his little short legs up the stairs into Kirby's house. At the time, Matt was mortified and wasn't sure what to do and forgot to tell me about it until some time later. Months later I confessed to Kirby what had happened and he said, "Oh, I remember that. I said, Martha, what has the dog dragged in." I cannot imagine what I would have thought if Guinness, my dog dragged something like that in. I might have fainted. Gross!
But years of being indulged by his owners, and fed treats like strawberry shortcake and whipped cream for breakfast, have caught up to Zippo. Diagnosed with diabetes, the past couple months have been hell for Kirby. With his wife needing at home therapy for her healing hip, the care of the dog has fallen to him. Since he cannot see, he cannot do the regular multiple blood tests daily to check insulin. Giving shots has been hit or miss with Zippo going from unreadable high levels to such lows that he has convulsed. I have been helping to test Zippo, but one morning last week, when I went over for my daily blood letting dog torture, I found Kirby in his robe with a miserable cold and just overwhelmed. The dog had peed, pooped and vomited everywhere. We got the mess cleaned up and then had the "talk" about what to do.
Tonight Kirby called to say he had made his decision. Zippo will be put to sleep in the next day or so. I am going to miss that goofy little dog. And, he is a reminder to me that life winds down. Kirby cannot manage his beloved pet's health anymore. He has had to give up his gardening and his beautiful orchid collection. His raised pineapple bed is full of weeds. No more fishing and the boat has been sold. He cannot drive. Life is narrower and narrower. I am not just sad that Kirby is losing his constant companion, I am sad that Kirby has already lost so much.
Kirby and Martha have a Jack Russell terrier named Zippo. At one point Zippo weighed in at 27#. If you know the breed, this is about 10-15 pounds more than he should have been. He waddled around like a Thanksgiving dressed turkey on bandy legs. Last summer, when Matt was visiting and cleaning fish at the dock, he threw a huge smelly piece of skin and fish flesh to a staring egret sitting on Kirby's dock next to ours. Before the bird could get to it, Zippo hobbled over and grabbed it and ran on his little short legs up the stairs into Kirby's house. At the time, Matt was mortified and wasn't sure what to do and forgot to tell me about it until some time later. Months later I confessed to Kirby what had happened and he said, "Oh, I remember that. I said, Martha, what has the dog dragged in." I cannot imagine what I would have thought if Guinness, my dog dragged something like that in. I might have fainted. Gross!
But years of being indulged by his owners, and fed treats like strawberry shortcake and whipped cream for breakfast, have caught up to Zippo. Diagnosed with diabetes, the past couple months have been hell for Kirby. With his wife needing at home therapy for her healing hip, the care of the dog has fallen to him. Since he cannot see, he cannot do the regular multiple blood tests daily to check insulin. Giving shots has been hit or miss with Zippo going from unreadable high levels to such lows that he has convulsed. I have been helping to test Zippo, but one morning last week, when I went over for my daily blood letting dog torture, I found Kirby in his robe with a miserable cold and just overwhelmed. The dog had peed, pooped and vomited everywhere. We got the mess cleaned up and then had the "talk" about what to do.
Tonight Kirby called to say he had made his decision. Zippo will be put to sleep in the next day or so. I am going to miss that goofy little dog. And, he is a reminder to me that life winds down. Kirby cannot manage his beloved pet's health anymore. He has had to give up his gardening and his beautiful orchid collection. His raised pineapple bed is full of weeds. No more fishing and the boat has been sold. He cannot drive. Life is narrower and narrower. I am not just sad that Kirby is losing his constant companion, I am sad that Kirby has already lost so much.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Newest Member of the Family
Meet Anastasia Caplan Wells, our newest granddaughter born on March 4, 2010. She weighed in at 6lb 12oz. Her parents are Jezebel (Harry's daughter) and Matt, her husband. Isn't she a beauty?? She joins her sister Jenavieve, who is 16 months old. That household is going to be busy!After both Grandma's leave we will head to Albuquerque to see the family and meet Anastasia and help out however we can. I cannot wait.
Oh, and I got approval for nicknames - maybe Jena and Ana? Since I still call my own children "Guinness" after the dog, I need it as simple as possible.
Am I blessed or what. Six grandchildren. All healthy. All gorgeous. All geniuses. ;-)
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
My Kidney Stone
As many of you know, because I blabbed it on Facebook, I had an emergency surgery recently for a kidney stone. I think the "emergency" nature sent me into PTSS, or Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, for those without your DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) nearby. I am rarely sick. I had two children without a drop of pain medication. I am stoic -I had a fish hook embedded in my ankle recently and didn't get a tetanus shot after. But, I found that being alone, not know exactly what to do or where to go or even how to get there, unnerving. While I was in the pre-op, one of the nurses asked me where my family was and how I got to the hospital. I explained that I had driven myself from the airport and she said, "What? You should have called an ambulance! You are my kind of woman." In retrospect, I think I should have called an ambulance because I do not remember the drive except that I had the windows wide open and when I got in my car to drive home the next day, the A/C was set at 60 - I guess to help me not puke! And I do remember looking in the rear view mirror and scaring myself to see the whitest face possible coming from a person who generally looks like she has had a few too many face flushing glasses of red wine.
Sparing all details, there is something very reassuring to be whisked away in a wheelchair, into the ER and into the hands of people who bustle about and seem so knowledgeable while they poke IV's in and check blood pressures and put EKG leads on and generally make you feel that it will be OK now if you lose consciousness because the crash cart is nearby.
On the other hand, being wheeled about in a prone position on a gurney to CAT scans, and Xrays and such leaves one feeling a bit helpless and really exposed both figuratively and literally. I kept bending my knees and then putting them down, thinking - whoa, I might not have enough blankets on! I also couldn't help thinking that people didn't want to stare so they averted their eyes while thinking "I wonder what is wrong with her?" I hope they thought that and not "what happened to her hair?"
And lastly, I would like to tell all surgeons out there that it really isn't a good idea to discuss with the anaesthesiologist whether or not to paralyze me for the procedure while I am in earshot. And, when waking me up from anaesthesia so rudely by calling my name loudly while yanking out the intubation tube - did I really need to be told I am a difficult intubation? I think I figured that one out by the sore throat left behind. Now I will be scarred for the rest of my life obsessing over what that meant. Did I clench my teeth in defiance? Is my neck misshapen? Do I have a physical anomaly?
All humor set aside, I am very glad that I live in 2010. I don't feel that way when it is time for the dentist because he is still in the dark ages. But, even though medicine has a long way to go, can you imagine one hundred years ago having a medical emergency? I can, and that makes me very appreciative!
Sparing all details, there is something very reassuring to be whisked away in a wheelchair, into the ER and into the hands of people who bustle about and seem so knowledgeable while they poke IV's in and check blood pressures and put EKG leads on and generally make you feel that it will be OK now if you lose consciousness because the crash cart is nearby.
On the other hand, being wheeled about in a prone position on a gurney to CAT scans, and Xrays and such leaves one feeling a bit helpless and really exposed both figuratively and literally. I kept bending my knees and then putting them down, thinking - whoa, I might not have enough blankets on! I also couldn't help thinking that people didn't want to stare so they averted their eyes while thinking "I wonder what is wrong with her?" I hope they thought that and not "what happened to her hair?"
And lastly, I would like to tell all surgeons out there that it really isn't a good idea to discuss with the anaesthesiologist whether or not to paralyze me for the procedure while I am in earshot. And, when waking me up from anaesthesia so rudely by calling my name loudly while yanking out the intubation tube - did I really need to be told I am a difficult intubation? I think I figured that one out by the sore throat left behind. Now I will be scarred for the rest of my life obsessing over what that meant. Did I clench my teeth in defiance? Is my neck misshapen? Do I have a physical anomaly?
All humor set aside, I am very glad that I live in 2010. I don't feel that way when it is time for the dentist because he is still in the dark ages. But, even though medicine has a long way to go, can you imagine one hundred years ago having a medical emergency? I can, and that makes me very appreciative!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Talent!
My daughter-in-law, Megan, is part of a string quartet called the Asteria String Quartet. You can see their website at http://www.asteriastringquartettoledo.com/ and if you go to "repertoire" you can hear some of their selections. They are magnificent! (Megan is the beautiful brunette leaning on a column on the left.)
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