Highly accomplished

The following conversation occurs in Pride and Prejudice regarding when to call a woman “accomplished.” Miss Caroline Bingley begins:

“…no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and, besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy; “and to all she must yet add something more substantial in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

I cannot claim to be “accomplished” by Mr. Darcy’s standard. Even Miss Elizabeth Bennet comments, “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.” Nevertheless, I did accomplish some things today.

First, I put back together my dogs’ kennels, which had spent the months of my absence folded flat in the garage. Two were simple, but the third was difficult. I could not get the door on for reasons that would take too long to explain. Suffice to say, after using pliers and a hammer to make small adjustments to some metal pieces, I finally had it complete.

I needed to get those kennels ready today. The last two nights my dogs have slept with me. Three dogs and myself in a recliner would be okay if everyone calmly lay down in the places where they’ll eventually end up. But my dogs have to spend time wiggling, climbing and crawling all over me, jumping to the floor and back again, attempting to or succeeding in licking my face, and—in Beatrice’s case—yapping and snapping at anyone who invades her personal space.

Second, I put into the kennels new comfy mats I’d ordered from Amazon shortly before I went to the hospital. They arrived neatly rolled up and shrink wrapped. Since coming to the house to supervise workers and then moving home, I’d seen those rolls several times. I thought I remembered seeing them in my living room, and I also thought I’d seen them in my utility room. But as soon as I wanted to use them I could not see them anywhere. I spent what felt like at least an hour walking into every room and one large closet over and over again, searching but not finding. 

I started to write a text to my sister-in-law who has a highly organized memory to ask if she could magically tell me their location. Before I sent it, I decided to make one more attempt. And in the guest room on a bed was a box with “Save for the pups” written on it. Well, yeah. How was I supposed to find that? My excuse is that my mind’s eye was picturing three rolls, not a box. Hurrah, they’re placed, and now the dogs have one lovely bed each, as do I. We’ll all sleep the better for it.

Samuel Pepys often ended his diary entries with: “So to bed.”

Free at last

Huzzah, hoorah, and hooray. Monday my nephrostomy tube was removed. My kidneys are functioning normally. I still have a kidney stone, so I need to get a CT scan to pinpoint that location and then a procedure to remove the stone. I’m making progress. 

Some work has been ongoing in my home while I’ve been at my sister’s. Today I am here at my own home while a drywall installer gets started. It makes me remember my uncle who was a contractor. Back then he called drywall “sheetrock,” and he had the opinion that all “sheetrockers” were crazy. The guy working at my house today seems harmless enough.

Soon we'll all be relaxing at home.

My sister and I were just discussing the progress of both my house and my health and we think I might be moved back into my own place as soon as Monday. (Today is Wednesday.) 

The work I’ve had done relates to a sump pump failure here in the basement apartment where I live. The year that my parents died (in January and April) I had the same kind of pump failure in August, only much worse. I ended up having to live in a hotel for four months and with my sister-in-law for another two months while new flooring was installed and drywall repaired. The new flooring has been a boon for the more recent incident. I have tile floors throughout my apartment, except for the furnace/laundry/water heater/pump room, which has cement flooring. Tile can withstand a bit of water without needing to be replaced.

Anyway, maybe these two pump failures followed by repairs could bracket a down time in my life: my mourning period for my parents, followed by mourning my previous dog, followed by a mental breakdown and recovery. With this new repair done and my moving back home, I can begin a new and happier stage of life. I hope and trust.

How long?

 I have been at my sister’s house for almost two months since being released from the hospital with a nephrostomy tube in place. It is so kind and hospitable for her and her husband to have me here so long, with still an undetermined amount of time ahead. 

I was pretty ill when I went to the hospital in August. (And now it’s October!) I had been in the hospital in July for a couple days for the same problem: a severe kidney infection. When I came back through the ER, I stayed for four or five days. My admittance and early days there are kind of a blur.

We (me and all the medical people I’ve seen) are keeping the infection at bay now with antibiotics. The nephrostomy tube is to relieve pressure in my left kidney (which is enlarged) and keep it alive until we get a more permanent solution. A home care nurse comes weekly to check on it.

Part of the reason I have been at my sister’s for so long is that I had an almost month-long delay in getting a diagnostic scan. I was supposed to have the scan on September 12th—already four weeks after I left the hospital, though I saw three different doctors in those four weeks—but, when I showed up, there was some preliminary procedure that was supposed to have been done before the scan but wasn’t. It took weeks—and a lot of phone calls on my part—to get the various medical offices to communicate and get that preliminary procedure scheduled and the scan re-scheduled.

Incidentally, the preliminary procedure was ridiculously simple and only needed to take about 15 minutes, but no one could do it unless they had an order. 

I had the scan yesterday and emerged mildly radioactive. The radioactive material injected into my veins should be pretty well gone by now, but if I tried to travel by air I might set off an alarm. Fortunately, I have no travel plans, except for my long-delayed trip home, whenever that happens. 

My scan was on a Friday, today is Saturday, and presumably on Monday the doctor who issued the all-important order will review the results. I hope to hear from them soon about what we’ll do next. 

My most fervent prayer for myself is that when all this is done I will be truly well. I have been having recurring UTIs for a year and a half at least. The theory is that it has been the same infection the whole time, temporarily alleviated by antibiotics then coming back. So I’ve been in pretty lousy health since I retired and probably for some time prior, mostly just feeling tired and listless. 

It's a process

I want to be well. Then I’ll say with Moses: “Make us glad as many days as you have afflicted us, and as many years as we have seen evil” (Psalm 90:15). 

Right now I’m in the earlier verse: “Turn, O Lord! How long? Have compassion on your servants!” (Psalm 90:13).

Oh, and if anyone is wondering, my wonderful niece(-in-law) is taking care of my dogs. Since she and my nephew have a young daughter whose friends come around to play with them, I gather the pups are having far more fun than they ever have with me.

And of course I’m grateful for modern medicine, kind medical professionals, loving and caring family and friends who have provided so much help that I don’t know what I’d do without them, and for prayer support. That’s the counterpoint to delays and frustration.

Also my sister is a great cook.

Birdie, birdie

 A sweet thing sometimes happens on my deck—a pair of robins build a nest and hatch their babies. It has happened again this year. I occasionally see them flitting in and out of the sheltered place (where my dogs cannot reach) with food for their young. In the evening, one of them—let’s assume it’s the male—sits on the top bar of the dog fence around my deck, and he enjoys the air and looks around and has a little rest. Perhaps he is also watching for any dangers to his family.

Robin on fence viewed through window screen.

A thing that is not dangerous is a dog barking from inside the house. The robin knows this. Benedict, my chiweenie, does not. He sees that bird sitting there, practically taunting him (your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries) so, standing on the arm of a recliner (because he can only see out the window if he stands on furniture), he barks. And barks. And barks. The robin continues to enjoy the air and look complacently around the yard. Benedict barks some more. 

If I am listening to a podcast and Benedict’s barking drowns it out, I sometimes shout, “SHUT UP!” My shouting has as much influence on Benedict as his barking has on the robin. Probably Benedict thinks I am just joining in the fun. Because he does love barking. If I can’t stand it for one more second, I close the blinds even though it’s not even close to dark outside.

And that’s just a taste of the stirring events that take place at my house.

Somewhere

A week ago Sunday we could see the full arc of a rainbow from my sister's front door. So we're looking across the street at a neighbor's house with the rainbow above it.

Back yard happenings

Yes, spring continues to spring. Today has been especially wonderful. After weeks of rain and chill (in the 50°s Fahrenheit) we have had some sun and warmth (mid- to upper 60°s Fahrenheit). It's practically balmy. Tomorrow will be similar, but starting to cloud up, and then we'll be back to rain and chill for the foreseeable future. Hopefully, this brief interlude of kindly weather will give us renewed strength as we carry on.

My forsythia is fuller than ever. 

Behind it, the trees are not yet showing any buds. This is why we appreciate having a forsythia. I sat out on the deck for a while this afternoon, and enjoyed the warmth. We get some noise from the businesses on the other side of the creek.

The Darigold milk-drying tower (which turns milk into powdered milk) is a muffled roar, while Vander Griend lumberyard provides the sounds of lumber dropping onto hard surfaces, trucks beeping as they back up, and the like. 

Vander Griend has improved in one way since last year. Their property used to extend to the creek, but they arranged with the city to remove a creekside building and stretch their works out longer in the other direction. This left room for the city to install a new section of Lynden's Jim Kaemingk, Senior, Trail. It's named after my Uncle Jim, for many years on the town council and also serving as mayor. Anyway, Vander Griend's change of footprint involved tearing down an ugly metal building that was heavily graffitied and which was always on view from my yard during the winter when the trees had no leaves to hide it from sight.

I zoomed in a bit to show the trail. On my side of the creek, the ground is lower, at the level of the forsythia. (My back yard is a flood plain.) The opposite side is several feet higher, and that's where the trail runs. I've pointed out where a group of kids is walking. You can't see the surface of the trail, but you can see the people using it.

Behind the kids, you can see a row of shrubs that I hope will grow tall enough to make even more of a screen for the lumberyard.

While I was sitting in an Adirondack chair in the sun, my herb barrel was at my elbow. It has parsley, sage, rosemary, and ... chives. I need to add some thyme. What I planted last year didn't thrive.

And so the world keeps turning.

Spring is springing

 I believe I've shared before that my dad claimed that his favorite poem was:

Spring has sprung.

The grass has riz.

I wonder where the birdies is.

Well, spring hasn't entirely sprung yet, but it's springing. Here are three signs of spring from my yard and deck.

1. My forsythia is getting some yellow blooms. I planted forsythia for the exact reason that it brings some color in early spring, when we're longing for it.

2. My honeysuckle is starting to leaf out. At the end of last summer, this plant was looking pretty leggy and straggly. I cut it back severely, not knowing if it would even come back. It's not a spring chicken. (Har. I crack myself up.) Perhaps it will recover.

3. Some tulips are sending up leaves. I bought myself some tulips in a pot last year. When they were done, I just left the pot sitting on my deck. Now it looks like I'll get some blooms out of the deal.

Welcome, spring. 

Silly dogs

So I’m just sitting quietly at my desk, minding my own business, when my dogs start barking, Vociferously. I see that my nephew is driving the lawn mower back and forth, to mulch the leaves in the yard. I open the door and, according to their custom, Benedict and Rosamund rush outside, barking. Vociferously.

Benedict: Barking is my almost-favorite thing (second only to treats).

Beatrice, who is clever, has been pretending that she too wants to run outside, but when the door is open she hangs back. She knows that if the other two are not around to act jealous, I will let her cuddle up to me while I hold her in the crook of my arm. So I close the door and sit with Beatrice at my desk.

Beatrice: All I want is to be warm and cozy.

Soon the outdoor barking stops, even though my nephew is still driving the lawnmower. I peep out the window in the door and there are Benedict and Rosamund wanting to come back in. I let them in and they rush to the couch and armchair and start barking towards the window. Although they are not clever, they are not entirely without intelligence, and they have decided it’s much more enjoyable to bark in a warm room while standing on cushy furniture than to bark outside in the cold. I open the door to see if they’ll go outside again, but they come running just to stand by the open door and bark from there.

Rosamund: I'm just a hyper little dog.

So I pick up a bag of treats and lead all three of them down the hall, reward them for going into their crates, shut the crate doors, and give them each a chewstick. I close the blinds and leave the room, closing the door behind me, hoping they will settle down to a nap. That’s where they are now. The lawnmower is put away and all is quiet indoors and out, except every so often Benedict gives a yell. Quiet, boy.