Sunday, December 30, 2012

 
 
2012 is going out in snowy style! The ground is covered in a few inches of snow and the cold of winter is forcing me to dig out some of my old shawls that I use to wear when I was a hippie. I get into my favorite chair, cover up with one of my favorite gifts of Christmas's past, a plush (fake) mink throw, and wrap a shawl around my shoulders and I'm ready for some TV or reading or posting on this blog, like I'm doing now.
 
This usually the time of year I reflect on it's passing and what the new year may bring. This has been one tough year. Not the toughest ever for my near 60 years in review but one I don't want to relive.
 
~  My back tops the list of tough. An already bad back was made worse on June 1st when I fractured my L1 and compressed further the rest of the L's so bad that I had to have major surgery to fuse the L4 - L5 October 1st.
    Now as the year closes out, my back is much better than before surgery. The constant pain has been replaced with a slight discomfort and when I bend too much, a slight ache. My prayer is that I can keep from injuring my back further so that the L3 won't need fusing to the L4 and L5 won't need fusing to S1. Those areas of my spin are also damaged.
 
~  My finances took a big hit this year. Not being able to work for a while meant a slash to my budget. Christmas would have been more of a bummer for me if my husband hadn't stepped in to help.
    Funny thing though. Gifts of money this Christmas were more than past Christmas's. My checkbook was rescued just as it reached the last $3 mark. Thank You, Lord, for answered prayer! Now I'm praying the 'fiscal cliff' is resolved so next year's budget isn't raped.
 
~  This years election nearly broke my marriage apart.
    The next four years will determine if trust was misplaced.
 
~  Death reared it's ugly head in several ways this year. Lost folks dear to me, family and friends of family. Those personal losses never healed before the next one would hit OR some sick soul would go out and shoot up a theater, and a school and .... to much sorrow both personally and nationally.
    Death will never go away. We are all born to die. I'm not talking about spiritual things ... that's beyond my understanding. I'm talking about the one constant of life ... death. So, it would be nice to have 2013 be the 'lucky' year of minimal loss.
 
Yes, it has been a rough year. I've just listed a few because to post a complete list would be a book ... and a drag. I'm looking ahead now.
 
We didn't have a cataclysmic event on 12-21-12. Everything seems as it was, with no doom and gloom.
 
No one knows the plans or thoughts of God, so it is my prayer that He is waiting for the 'Big' day so everyone has a chance to change ... or whatever.
 
I'm just glad that there is still time ... Still hope in the year to come.
I'm glad the year is nearly over and pray next year will be blessed.
 
 
 
 
 
Happy New Year to all! May you be blessed! May your dreams come true!  May 2013 be your best year yet!
 


Friday, December 28, 2012

Gertrude and I

Pictured:  Dewey Dillon, Sandy (author), and my dear Gertrude McVay. This was taken at her birthday party that her niece, Jill, put together for her in 2008.












SHE HAD SOMETHING 'BETTER' TO DO






I took my place at what I believed to be the head of her casket and gave her my last gift ... my gift of a song, sung to the tune of Edelweiss:

 
May the Lord Mighty God,
Bless and keep you forever.
Grant you peace,
Perfect peace,
Courage in every endeavor.
Lift up your eyes,
And see His Face,
And His Grace forever.
May the Lord Mighty God,
Bless and keep you forever.


A song that I began with a broken voice, nervous, because folks were filing out from under the blue protective tent, heading to their cars and I feared they would think me daft. But by the end of the song, my voice was strong and I hoped it did her justice. Good-bye dear friend, my Gertrude Madre. (Madre - spanish for mother.)

Today, Gertrude McVay was laid to rest. She made it to 93. She was always trying to make it another year. I figured she'd try to out do her mother. Mary made it to 103. But on the night of her 93rd birthday she was admitted to the hospital and left us to do 'better' things, ten days later.

If she could have observed her own funeral, I think she would have been very moved. Several people got up and shared during the celebration of memories about her. I even went up, in spite of my fears of falling from my vertigo that has been haunting me for near a month now. I don't remember what I said! Wish I would have wrote it down! When I sat down and others shared ... I remembered even more memories that I could have added.

The good thing about a blog ... I can share those thoughts and memories here. I may be the only one writing/reading this, but hey, that's not really important to me. My writing has always been my vent, my canvas, my best friend most of the time. No one reading it, can't take that away.

So, this is what I would like to have said (and some of it I may have) during this special celebration. It is what I would have told her if she was still here and I'm sorry I missed my opportunity before. It's seems death is like that, it captures and silences all the should have and would haves.

I met Gertrude like many Ogallala hometowners, when I
enlisted her services to care for my daughter and step-son
when they were 7 years old. She was a popular choice in
Ogallala for her childcare services. But it wasn't until she
called me to come clean for her, over 10 years ago,
when I was just starting out in my newly formed
cleaning business, that I came to
 know her.

What began with me as her cleaning lady, soon developed
into a friendship and as the years went by ... more than
friendship. I grew to love this woman and adopted her as
my Mother. My own Mother and I were struggling at that
time. I didn't know then what I know now about
Alzheimer's. Gertrude and I had some long heart to
heart talks. At least I HAVE told her this one thing
many times ... she healed my heart and relationship
with my Mom. For that, I will be forever grateful.

During those years, I invited Gertude out several times
for special holiday meals with our family and on one Easter,
I also invited Dewey Dillon. After dinner we all sat down
and our family introduced Gertrude and Dewey to
the game of Dominoes. Oh what fun that was!

What I didn't know, until the next clean, was that
my daughter, Shelby, would drop off a game of Dominoes
to Gertrude. From that time on, it was the game of choice.
In fact, the couple of times I would sit and play with them,
 after a cleaning, I'd swear there were new rules to the
game. Every time after that surprise gift from Shelby,
Gertrude would praise her to me and profusely thank me
for introducing them to the game. I think she enjoyed and continued to play the game when she went to the Grant home.

This woman loved her clothes. I could so identify with that!
 She also loved her jewelry. Again, I could identify with that.
She collected angels. I collected lots of other stuff that
could match her thousands of angels throughout her home.

She always looked beautiful. Her hair fixed, her cute outfits
with her favorite jewelry which was often angel pins, she
was a classy lady. I looked up to her and enjoyed that we
had so much in common. Both of us LOVED to go thrift shop shopping! No Macy's or Dillard's for us!!

There is so much more I could tell you about this
amazing woman but I guess this is only important to me
and I'm not good enough with my words to paint a picture
 that you would love as much as I do/did her. She
touched many hearts in our small towns of Ogallala
and Grant. She will be missed by many.

So, dear lady, I don't know it you can read this from
where you are, but I want to tell you I love you to the moon
and back! Thank you for that call to clean your home!
Thank you for wanting to be my friend. And thank you
for loving me. I bet you have your own angel wings now!
 If you do, I pray that God would let you come whisper
 in my ear and remind me of my healed heart or just
to give me one of your famous hugs and tell me those
 'I love you's',  you so freely handed out! I hope it's yer
mug I see, Gertrude Madre, coming to greet me
when it is my turn to go find something 'better' to do.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

DISMANTLING CHRISTMAS

Why is this year any different from Christmas's past?
Is my heart any heavier?
Decorations are usually left til New Year's Day,
But not this year.
This year I'm ready to put them away.

So all the boxes to fill,
Are brought up from the basement,
And down go the stockings off the chimney,
And down go memories collected over the years,
Of what Christmas means to me.

The various nativity scenes,
Remind me of the reason we celebrate.
Santa of my childhood years,
Has been replaced with Baby Jesus,
And in some way softened all my fears.

The many trees placed about the room,
Fill me with smiles.
Lots of decorated trees make the season fun.
Some gifted, made and bought,
And I remember the history of each one.

As I carefully sort and paper wrap,
And put everything that says Christmas away,
A lump settles in my throat,
And tears threaten to fall.
I really feel like such an old goat!

Every year this gets harder.
Not because the world's Christmas greed has grown,
But more the changes that each Christmas holds,
When young hope sees such a bright light.
But that light seems to dim when we get old.

Most of my decorations are children geared.
As I put them to rest for another year,
I wonder if they'll be brought out anymore.
There are no children regularly in this home now,
No little hearts to Christmas adore.

Seems silly to adorn with teddy bears,
And Sesame Street ornaments,
When no little one's are here to enjoy.
Maybe I'll change the scheme next year,
To fit our growing envoy.

Maybe I'll pack away those ornaments,
That carry special memories of each little heart,
That has graced our home over the years.
Then give these memories to each loved one,
To decorate their own homes with Christmas cheer.

This years heavy heart is due to change.
One day these Christmas's will come no more for me.
I should relish that the season doesn't crash my soul anymore,
That I've worked hard to make the season special,
So my little ones never opened a despairing memory door.

I should glow in the blessing I find in each new Christmas season.
It is a season of great Hope,
And charges the soul with so much love,
If one can keep focused on what is important,
Which is in the Greatest Gift from Above.

New Year's Day is five days away,
Early is this year's Christmas dismantling.
I'm ready to pack away all the sparkle and brass,
And open up space in this home full of change.
I'm ready to let go and in this years memories bask.

We survived the doomsday predictions,
So 2013 is on it's way in, maybe....
But whatever the path God has laid before us,
It will unfold rather we want it to or not,
As I close the last box and pack away Christmas.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

SNOW ON THE OUTSIDE!

Winter has come to our sandhills today in the form of our first blizzard of 2012. This drought stricken area is now blanketed in white. But it  may not get the moisture it needs, if this blasting wind blows it all the way to Kansas! A quick drive into town, just as this storm hit, had me scurrying back for home in a scary, snow blinding, drive.

I have to go in to work tonight. Scary thought.

For now, though, here, safe ... listening to the wind howl and looking out every so often, to see how high the drifts are blowing ... I'm doing loads of wash. I'm helping my brother, Carl, get all his clothes and sleeping bag ready for his trip back to his favorite home town, Lincoln, NE. He's been sleeping in our basement for nearly two months and on a day like today, I am so glad he has a warm place to hang.
I'm not ready to let him go. It's like the old days when he was just a little boy and I was the 'Momma Hen' looking out for my little brothers. Though he's all grown up now, he still needs a guardian. Someone to look out for him. And he won't let me be his guardian. Nor will my husband let me. So, on this cold snowy day, I'm doin what I can and helping him get ready for his trip home.

My brother is excited about going home. Well, not really home as he is still homeless. Yes, homeless. It's a long story and some of it I have blogged about in earlier posts. Let's just say for now he has been having a tough time and does not have a set place to call home. For the past couple of years he has been a regular camper under some Lincoln bridges or he will stay with friends who open their homes temporarily, especially during bad weather days like today. 
In my mind, this is no way to live. But his age, previous health issues with cancer and a mind that some would label child like,  all limit his employment access. He's a hard worker and a very loyal worker ... as long as he doesn't drink. He can be obnoxious when he drinks too much. He's been too poor to drink much this year. And since I've not been drinking since Feb 14th, his stay here has been very pleasant.

Why is he camping in our basement? When I learned a surgery I was dreading was going to happen Oct 1st, I knew Carl would be such a big help. He may be homeless, but I know how to get ahold of him and so I put out the call and he agreed to come. I could help him with a pillow for his head and he could help me as I recovered from spine surgery.
It has been a very comfortable arrangement, to the surprise of my husband, who, at first, restricted the my brother's stay to only six weeks. I think my husband was worried that my brother could be one of those professional panhandlers and would be a hassel under foot. But he was won over by the calm, quiet, helpful manner of my brother. My husband surprised me by giving my brother a coat for Christmas and even researched some programs that might help give my brother a respectful independence. Surprises can warm the heart!

When it became apparant that I was recovering from surgery much quicker than everyone expected and that I was beginning to fetch my own stuff and could soon drive myself around, I tried to help my brother find work and a place to live in our hometown of Ogallala. I had hoped he would think this was a cool idea, too. But Ogallala isn't the hometown he wants to live in right now. Maybe later, he says. Maybe, should our younger brother not want to be caretaker of our childhood home, he would come back and help keep things from deteriorating there. He may finally have a home, is a thought not lost in my mind.

Anyway, the washer and dryer are both full. Carl is going through his few possesions and repacking it all into one little tote I gave him. And I'm trying not to cry.

Doesn't he know that when he goes back to Lincoln that I will begin worrying again. I have the greatest fear that the phone will ring and another brother will be gone. His health is not the best. No health insurance so he doesn't go to the doctor. His health could be the worst. How can I let this all go?

At least for near two months, my brother has been safe, with a clean bed to sleep in and a fridge to keep his food in and my computer to play solitaire, addictively, on. I will miss him. I've loved having him here and was grateful to celebrate our 'family' Christmas with him. It's been years since we've been together over the holidays. We filled him up on Thanksgiving, too! I'm sure I healed quickly because he was such a great support!

So here I am at the end of the year, dreading all the changes closing in around me. My brother going back to Lincoln is just one of the many changes pending. And his return just magnifies the huge sense of loss that this year has hit me with ... 
... and, as if personal loss isn't hard enough, then our country takes it's own hard hits recently with hurricane Sandy and the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary.  And what the heck! Why does SANDY have to be the name associated with these tragedies? That troubled me enough to change my Facebook name to my nickname Sam. Like that is gona help in some way! Such is MY way, when all I can feel is helpless! So I do insignificant stuff. And feel nearly hopeless!

NO! That's not so. There is ALWAYS  hope!

As 2013 closes in, my heart is so heavy. My brother is going back to his comfort zone. Impending changes ... sheesh even the upcoming 12-21-12 is touted to be an impending .... something ... guess, I will think about that more on 12-22-12 and blog about it if nothing changes to knock out power or Yellowstone didn't blow according to some doomsayer predictions.

For now, the snow is easing and it looks like some of it is gona stay to melt when the sun comes out. Sorry, Kansas. Guess, I'll finish helping my brother get ready for his return ....

Snow on the outside!
Rain on the inside!
The sun will come out!
The sun will always come out!
Or how will the rainbows form inside?!

Sunday, December 9, 2012

It is a cold, windy Sunday night in McCook, NE. The flashing marque, just outside the motel window, just informed me that it was only 14 degrees out. Usually the wind howling through the windows wouldn't bother me. I like a cool room and often leave a window open for a cool breeze. My husband won't let me do this at our country home in the sandhills. I probably could if I was paying the heating bill. And I'm not paying the heating bill in this hotel room. But then, I don't have the windows open. Don't need to. The crisp wind is still finding a way in. May need to use my fake fur coat for an extra cover tonight.

So, why McCook? Came here Friday night to hang out with my daughter and her family as they offer their presence and support to their dear friends whose 6 year old son passed from a rare brain cancer. His  funeral was today. We came early to offer any support needed and to beat a snow threat that never panned out. 

This sad time has me sitting here, on this cold, windy night, reflecting over the year and the saying 'death  seems to come in threes.' This year proves this saying true for our family. The first loss this year was our friend, Bill Davis. I posted a blog around that time expressing my sorrow. Bill was a long time friend of my husband's and when I met him, he became my Sam Elliott look-a-like! And friend! It was hard losing him. Not a surprise. Cancer does not discriminate. But seems even when you are expecting someone to leave, it still doesn't make the leaving any easier! Both he and his wife, Eva, lived on borrowed time and left us when we were not ready to let them go.

My husband and I made the trip to Council Bluffs, IA to say good-bye to our friend Bill. While there a call came in to burden me with death # 2. I arrived home from IA to pack and turn around the very same day and head back ... but going to Lincoln, NE this time.

My daughter and I made that trip to Lincoln, NE to hug our cousins and mourn the loss of a cousin whom had committed suicide. The loss of this cousin ripped our hearts out by it's suddenness and sadness, but suicide is not a surprise to our family.

I use to wish I was in a family of healthy, wise, 'popular', wealthy, elite .... oh, the list went on and on, but was sooooo foolish. I am blood related to a clan of colorful, warm souled misfits that stumble around in our brokenness with moments of despair when we take our own life suddenly, or slowly, in self destructive living modes. I am where I need to be. Wishing made me miss out on the blessings at hand and kept me from changing. When I just accepted and loved, no matter what, I found a way to survive and so came the blessings. So, yes, I am where I need to be. And this year we lost one of those broken souls from within our blessed family 'tribe'.

A few months later and here we are, near the end of the year and, today, we said good-bye to a little 6 year old HERO. Again, with my daughter, we come to this lil town of McCook, NE, ... to hug and marvel at this remarkable family and community that fell in love with their son. A little guy that was way too young to go! Yet, in his short life, he lived a life time and impacted the lives of thousands ... maybe more. His story comes together in so many other places. The Nebraska Cornhuskers, both players and fans, were touched by little Isaiah Casillas. As was the whole community of McCook. You should check out the articles on this little fella.

His funeral was a mix of such sorrow and sweet, sweet memories ... listening to how others were impacted by this young boy, who captivated everyone he met  ...  and then is so quickly gone ... made me take stock of my poor excuses for not doing my best! Shesssh!

Here was a little guy that lived with maybe only one regret ... he couldn't stay longer. He knew he was sick and he knew he wouldn't get to stay long and so he rode his bicycle and played with his friends and loved until he couldn't no more. He lived and he smiled and hugged and laughed and loved. He didn't whine or make life miserable for those around him. He blessed more, in his little time, and he fought like a true warrior. God blessed his little heart by taking him with grace and after only two weeks in Hospice, when his disease is known to be much more taxing and long suffering. Prayers for Isaiah were answered. He gave. Now it is our turn.

If death comes in threes, then this should be the end of death striking it's personal blow in my life. Death is all around us. It seems inescapable. Inevitable. It reminds us of our immortality. It is recorded everyday for someone, somewhere, and often in more than threes. As I grow older, death seems to sing it's tune more often than I care to hear it.

In all this, I am reminded that life is a gift. Too precious to waste and to unpredictable to spend life whining. 

I think the wind died down! The windows aren't whizzing. It is actually getting warm in this room with all these windows. Maybe, I'll slide the window, nearest my bed, open a bit before I turn out the light. I can prop up my pillows and get all snugly and watch the traffic driving by down there from this 2nd story window. No trucks jake breaking down the hill, like they do out by our home in the sandhills! Watching and listening to the night sounds of this lil compassionate McCook town ... seems soothing tonight.  Very soothing to a troubled soul.

So I snuggle into the pillows. One last look at that flashing marque over Kentucky Fried Chicken. It's now 13 degrees. Burrrrrr. I'm glad the wind has died down. But like death, it will rear it's ugly head again. And I go ahead and open that window a crack. And I go ahead and watch and listen.

As I drift off to sleep with such a heavy heart, I can see in my mind the last video that flashed up on the screen at the McCook Community Center at the end of the funeral for little Isaiah Casillas. With feeding tubes and his dancing eyes, he was singing a song I've lovingly watched my little grandson sing but Isaiah ends it with ...

Miss Me, Miss Me, Now Ya Gotta Kiss Me.



Friday, November 9, 2012

COFFEE BREAK SERIES


COFFEE BREAK #2


Addiction ~ dependence on or commitment to a habit, practice, or habit-forming substance to the extent that its cessation causes trauma.

Compulsion ~ 1. the act of compelling; constraint; coercion. 2. the state or condition of being compelled. 3. a strong, usu. irresistible impulse to perform an act, esp. one that is irrational or contrary to one's will.

Compulsive ~ 1. pertaining to, characterized by, or involving compulsion: compulsive eating. 2. characterized by perfectionism, rigidity, conscientiousness, and an obsessive concern with order and detail. 3. compelling; compulsory. 4. a compulsive person.


The Serenity Prayer has a special place in my heart. It came to me as a lifeline back in the late 70's and has helped me sort through my life ever since. I was introduced to the Serenity Prayer when I was committed to treatment at the Hastings Regional Center after a week in the hospital for an overdose that should have resulted in two fatalities. Two? I died, twice, and yet lived. One of many miracles I would experience. AND my nearly 4 year old son survived being left alone in our apartment for over 3 days before anyone knew he was there and rescued him. Another of the many miracles I have experienced in my life. I've shared my story many times and so, in this coffee break I don't intend to share it again. No, I'm fast forwarding from the late 70's to now ... the last quarter of 2012.

I am obsessively compulsive with a compulsion for addiction. I am a lost cause, right? Oh HELL no!!! I am a survivor! I beat the odds every day ... as long as I cling to my lifeline. GOD. 

When I left the Hastings Regional Center after successfully completing their 30 day treatment program ... that took me 3 months to complete back in the 70's, I was taken to a half-way house for women, St Monica's, in Lincoln, NE. From that time on, until now, I've been in a battle for my life. I have been so blessed with the 'teachers' over this time period that have given me life tools to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN. I am not the same person I was before my treatment. I may have successfully completed their treatment program but successful living has taken much longer. Not even sure I've yet the right to claim success today.

It's been a process. I've have been sober nearly 10 years straight, and have 'fallen off the wagon' off and on for many more years since. December 31, 1997 I layed down all whiskey. And from that time on I tried to rationalize that drinking just beer or wine or liqueurs were ok since I did not drink them to drunkenness. Though this may have been a valid point, for me, I have some health issues that make drinking a danger. For me, the WISEST thing to do is NOT to drink.

I have not had a drink since February 14, 2012. I have more courage to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN when I choose not to drink. And my liver thanks me.

So I don't drink. That solves my obsessive compulsiveness, right? NOT!

I don't drink but I 'collect'. Some might label my 'collections' as compulsions. And after watching a few reality TV shows on hoarders, I too, am labeling my collections as compulsions. (The one on the woman who hoarded empty boxes was especially enlightening since I 'collect' empty office copy paper boxes. They are great to 'collect' my garage sale items in, for that future garage sale. I think I've got 15 empty boxes to fill yet.)

Let's take a peek at my 'collections':


Clothes and jewelry.
I love garage sales and thrift shops. I'm not in to spending lots of bucks on name brand items when you can find em in a thrift shop. Just give em a good cleaning and wah-lah! I look for unusual items and color coordinated add ons and cosmetic jewelry that intrigues me. (and usually ONLY me) I can't count for you all the jewelry boxes, or clothing items ... this lil room is full ... maybe too full, huh?


Oh and shoes ... lots of shoes ...
and books ... several shelves of books ...

and pictures ... pictures in frames ... thousands, and more, of pictures on CD, on the computer ... lots and lots of pictures.


and finally, pens. I have more than 10 containers of pens. I'm a compulsive underliner in my self help books! I buy those colored gel pens to underline in different colors. I'm due for a new Bible because I've underlined so much that some text is unreadable. I have pens everywhere.

Oh wait ... I also compulsively 'collect' rocks! As a child I use to sit on the sidewalk outside Grandma's house and with a hammer, break em open. I think that was my way of dealing with the trauma I was living with during Mom's 2nd marriage. Once treatment, years of counseling, and lots of soul healing ... the rocks I have all over my house, now, have been collected as is. I can almost tell you where every rock 1st resided. One of my favorite Christmas gifts was a rock given me by my daughter when she was 7.

I'm sure there are more compulsions I have ... this is just a peek.

Is this better than drinking? Only if SERENITY is gained. My compulsions seem easier to tame when I don't drink. But I have too much. It is too crowded. I'm getting old enough now that I need to get rid of 3/4's of it all. What a mess my family will have trying to sort through it all when I move on. 

Drinking or not, I will always cling to this prayer, faith in a God that guides my walk, when I let Him, and the desire to always change what I can to find serenity in the way I walk my life. Serenity for me usually means  SERENITY for my loved ones.

So,
God grant me the SERENITY,
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN,
and the WISDOM to know the difference.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

WE VOTED YESTERDAY


President Barack Obama will serve as our
44th President.





So we voted.
And Obama
was elected to
a second term.
I am sooooo
excited that I
even got to vote.
It almost didn't happen.





What a hostile political environment for this years election. It may seem to many that it was unusual. But I remember the 60's, the Kennedy's, the Viet Nam war and the draft, the hippies, the protests. I remember watching TV as it gave us ready witness to the tragedies of war and the hosing of peaceful black protesters and the assassinations of great men who opened doors for an American experience that involved ALL of the people, not just a privileged few. Sound familiar? It should. We've been here before. Such passions then. Such passions now.

Finally the commercials and the bantering and the stretching of the truth and the out right lies are set to rest. Right? Now it is time to really get to work and save our country for everyone. We are Americans. A mix of color, class and cultures that enjoy the freedom to be who we are and follow the dreams we dare to dream. Will the haters stop hating? Probably not. Time will tell if the suits can all work together or if it will be a tug-o-war or chest puffing with no desire to meld the strongest points into something that could be the best political climate ever. I can hope, right? I can pray, and I do, nearly every night. With God all things are possible.

I wish this battle was outside of my safe haven here in the Sandhills. Some how my husband and I have moved from common ground some 20+ years together, to being 180 degrees off on nearly every political passion. He's white, I'm black. He's red, I'm blue. His way is right. My way is right. It finally got so bad that we agreed NOT TO TALK POLITICS around each other. And this worked, until ....

a couple weeks before the election things were said and an argument ensued and I reached a point that I was willing to move out if I had to, to protect my right to vote and my passions ...

Let's just say, we worked this all out and re-installed the ban on talking politics. And I went out and voted yesterday. Maybe those suits in 'elected' positions can find some compromise amid their passions. Like my husband and I, maybe they can work through the drama and see the most important things that matter. Like the heart of a soul. They are responsible for millions of hearts out there.

Thursday, October 25, 2012




I Took A Bite Of That Apple To See

I took a bite of that apple to see,
That you were naked in front of me.
'Thou shalt not eat of the Tree of Knowledge,
Such beauty unfolded in the fruit and foliage.
I did not plan to deceive you,
But how could I be without you?
One can only relate to what is known,
And with experience one is grown.
So why plant a tree,
And then say "Let it be?"
Why tempt one You know is weak,
By refusing not to speak,
And giving all the facts?
A test. What the hell is that?
Especially when You know all the answers,
Yet expect all the respect, my Lord, Sir?
Why create only to destroy,
Why use life like Your favorite toy?
In my quest to know all these whys,
I ate of that tree to try,
To understand it's reason for being,
And feel all that I knew You were seeing.
But I only found you innocent and naked,
My love, my life became most sacred.
Yes I'd do it all over again,
Be found naked and walking in sin,
To always be with you, my friend.
That Garden of Eden,
Was only created for two,
Yet now our souls combined in one anew.
In a love so innocent,
To withstand that banishment,
From perfection to Resurrection,
The toil becomes the dream,
And Beauty isn't what it seems.
Sometimes it can even be cruel,
To plant a tree and try to fool,
With restrictions set,
You sit and cast the net,
Knowing full well we would fall,
And never have a chance at all,
To live in a maintenance free Garden,
With You as our Warden.
That tree is the reason,
Our life is now for a season.
A brief time to walk the planet,
And destroy all that is on it.
In our quest to know all the whys,
We fall and live only to die.
We will never understand all Your ways,
But You give us a Hope to soften our short stay.
I took a bite of that apple to see,
That you were naked in front of me.

Sandra K. Harrison
Copyright pending 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

OCTOBER IS USUALLY SCARY FUN

One of my favorite seasons is fall. Unlike spring, fall has a unique array of colors that drape over all of God's creation. Bright yellows, oranges and reds. Dull browns, creams and an over kill of dead foliage everywhere. The nights are down right cold and the days unpredictable in reaching highs of the 60's and 70's. Already, this past October 6th, we had snow in these Nebraska sandhills. So the colors are now set in tune, deteriorating at a faster pace while heavy night time freezes take a nature toll. And that's not all ...

Fall colors splash all around me as I sit in a created throne of pillows and blankets, sipping on ice water and typing this post, while I continue to recover from back surgery I had on Oct 1st. Of course the type of surgery I had was of last resort. A fusion of my lower lumbar, the L4/L5. After much counsel it appeared to be my only option to stabilize a very damaged area in my back. I am recovering well. At least I think I am. Never had this type of surgery before and since pain was the biggest issue ... there is minimal to no pain on this day, 3 weeks and 2 days after surgery. I'm no longer distracted by pain and so this fall has my attention.

October is my scary fun month in fall. Halloween is the fun, with all the costumes and CANDY! Scary is in some of the costumes, decorations and haunted houses/corn fields and parties. I can't always do the haunted house thing. Strobe lights wack my balance and my claustrophobia attacks are hard to control in dark, cramped areas. But the element of being scared in a fun way is such a kick.

I am praying that my healing continues and will be advanced enough to get involved in the Halloween festivities that Ogallala supports. The parade is a hoot. I don't remember taking my son and daughter in Halloween parades when they were little. Why is that? Did we have em back then? (Just about done with the pain meds for my surgery ... but maybe I'm still loopy?) Well, I give up trying to recall. I do remember taking the grandkids though! In my old age, I love the parade! And yes, I get all dressed up. I've gone as a vampire, a Native American, Bonnie (Ron was my Clyde), a clown, a voting booth ... and so much more.

As I wrap up this post, I look out the window and all the fall colors are now enveloped in darkness as the night nears midnight. I can hear the wind, not a violent as it was on October 18th but it is a cold, brisk blow. And what is that on the window? Snow?

I had to get up from my pillow haven and open the window ... yep! It is snow. Hm ... on the 6th we got less than an inch here in the country, near Ogallala. The 24th is almost gone. 8 minutes to midnight. So far the snow has covered the fall colors in a light blanket of white. It is beautiful. Closing the window and suddenly feeling tired (could be the pain pill I took earlier) I look forward to my pillow haven on the bed. Tomorrow, October 25th, when I wake, what will the daylight bring?

Sunday, September 30, 2012

I'm Trying Not To Be Afraid

How does one quell the knot of fear,
That ball of gall,
A total in trepidation,
Of the unknown,
And the known,
The path determined?
I feel good right now.
I know it won't last.
But do I really need surgery?
Will it heal or make worse,
My present lumbar nightmare?
I don't know what else to do.
Seems time is not my friend.
Each year I lose a freedom,
Each year the shots work .... only 2-3 months,
Then pain,
And more pain,
And electrical shocks down the leg,
And that chicken walk,
Making me look like a manikin.
So I'm taking the plunge,
And trusting a surgeon,
To restore my quality of life,
For what remains to be,
My most challenging season.
Tomorrow is surgery.
Yikes!!!
Tonight is a full Harvest Moon.
Truly beautiful!
Sitting on the motel bed,
Drinking lots of water,
And trying not to dread.
But how does one quell the knot of fear?
Even believing God is near,
This ball of gall,
Not wanting to go through this at all,
But not wanting to continue deteriorating.
No more waiting.
This is really the best time.
And praying it won't be my last day here,
That something unpredictable,
Would end my life completely.
No more complaining,
Nor would I get done that pile left behind!
No,
This is not a good time to be pulled away.
Praying this surgery will work.
And for the recovery to be quick.
I do trust that God has this all under control,
And I'm ready to roll.
But along with the choice,
The Trust,
The desire to live life in fullness ....
How do I quit feeling afraid?

Sunday, September 23, 2012

VOICES I WISH I COULD HEAR AGAIN


Over Labor Day weekend, my husband and I took a trip back East. Our Labor Day weekend destination would be Council Bluffs, Iowa to see our dear friend Bill Davis. We spent Sunday night with Bill in his home and then parted ways, with me returning home to Ogallala and Ron going East towards the Mississippi River. He was beginning his big trip to Wisconsin, Michigan and Canada. A three weeker that was suppose to go to Maine for Lobster with Bill but got trimmed to two because Bill's cancer finally took the zip out of his sails. He felt too ill to go. As we all said our good-byes and headed three different ways ... there wasn't a dry eye among us.

Bill died sometime between Sunday night, September 9th and Wednesday September 12th when his body was found by his sister-in-law ... on the floor ... in the same place his wife, Eva, had died just under two years earlier. She had MS. (Multiple Sclerosis)

Two very beautiful people ... gone before we were ready. And the tears are still flowing.

Will finish this when the pain is less. ♥

Moments of reflection:


One of my favorite pictures of us. We did a lot of laughing in those early years! I loved her laughter! ♥


What a voice. What a heart. He introduced my husband and I to John Prine and every time I hear a Prine song I think of this friend. I loved his effort to be involved in life. He reminded me of Sam Elliott and I would often embarrass him telling him so.


Well, you are on another journey, my friend. We won't see your pickup in our drive anymore, nor see you on your Harley, riding in the mountains. But we may still hear your Harley if your daughter, Kasey, rides it as she plans. The rumble of your Harley, the John Prine songs, your voice still captured on the voice mail ... all will remind us of the hole in our hearts.

You would hate that I posted this reflection of you, Mr Bill. So if it bothers you enough, then I say GOOD! Come chew me out, like ya use to about my drinking. (You'd be happy to know I'm still not drinking, too.) I would welcome your wrath. :) I didn't have a chance to say goodbye at a funeral, or memorial, or ....  That's cool. That was what you wished. This is MY wish. This is my goodbye, my friend. :(

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

BRILL ANNUAL CAMP OUT AT LAKE MAC






I wish I could remember exactly how many years the Brill's and I have met to camp on the beach of Martin Bay located on the North side of Lake McConaughy. I am blessed to have spent most of my life near this lake, which is Nebraska's largest man made lake. Though blessed to live near, I've not utilized it's gifts as often as I can. In fact, over the years, regular visits to this lake have streamlined to just this annual camp out with the Brill's. I guess while my life ebbs and flows around constant change, this annual Brill camp out has kept me grounded to some things I take for granted, such as this beautiful lake nearby to play at.

We always meet in August and usually near Mark's birthday. I think one year he told his family he wanted to go camping at Lake Mac for his birthday and they did ... and they've been coming ever since. In those early years, when our kids were all still in school, we had quite a group that would gather. But over the years, the number of campers that gather has dwindled down to most of the Brill family, my daughter (all grown up now), with her family, and a couple of ole time regulars, myself and Gary, who comes here from Lincoln, NE. Mark and Co's sons, Jeremy and Kyle will also drive from their apartment in Lincoln for this years camp out. The last couple of years, Tanya Brill's 'family'; Cody and her dog, Kilo, and her friend, Becka, and her dog, Kira, have joined our camping clan. This year, Becka would bring an awesome tree climber, Mo. No matter who shows up ... it is always a super group of folks!

This year's camp out was held August 10-12. I believe Mark picks the weekend that coincides with the Perseid meteor shower since it seems to be the constant in our camping memories.

So ... on 08-09-12:

Tanya, Cody and Kilo arrived at my home early Thursday evening and after debating if they would spend the night or set up camp ... we all headed to the lake to stake out our camp sites. With Martin Bay nearly empty of water this year, we would have lots of beach to choose from.

This summer of 2012 will go down in weather history as the hottest and driest year for most of the United States. Nebraska alone broke temperature records this year with long running stretches of 3 digit temps. This years heat wave and lack of moisture, played a big part in the near empty Martin Bay. Last year we had no beach to camp on and listened to waves lapping outside our tent doors. This year, water front camping would be without shade and difficult to get to without a four wheel drive.

The choice was easy. We didn't want to camp by the water without shade trees. So to the trees ... oh, and a restroom had to be near for this old woman's needs, though not required. I have been known to pack a port-a-potty to avoid getting lost in the dark trying to find the potty house. This year, I brought my chamber pot. Ever seen one of them? No? You're too young then.

What a beautiful night! We set up our tents, quickly, before it got dark. No bugs or mosquito's! That was nearly more awesome than the sunset I took a picture of. I don't remember a time camping WITHOUT mosquitoes or bugs trying to ruin the experience! It was awesome and we marveled at that. Little did we know, that Sat night would bring about a change!

Cody started a fire pit and Tanya worked on bringing supplies into camp. When I left to go finish my lake packing, Cody had joined Tanya in retrieving their camping supplies. I left them to a peaceful, calm, beautiful night on Lake Mac and headed home to get some sleep. I planned on rising early to finish gathering, packing and hauling the rest of my camp gear to the lake.

Actual 1st day of camp out, 08-10-12:

After a fitful night of sleep, I rose about 5:30 am, brewed my morning tea, then settled in to my morning Bible reading and prayer time. When I finished my meditation time and turned on my cell phone, a message popped up from Tanya. Cody had locked the keys in her vehicle last night. I had to chuckle. That was usually my trick. I added hanger and pliers to my list of stuff to bring out. Then I called her to make sure they'd be fine until I made it back out.
Took time to take a shower since it was gona probably be the only one in a few days. Packed up my lake wear and was then ready for a cup of coffee.

Once I put on the coffee water, I went into high gear. Or at least as high a gear as my back would allow me. My back seemed better after the Dr had cemented the compressed L1 that I had fractured trying to move a desk over a month ago. But the worsened L4-L5 region was plaguing me with constant pain and electrical shock like jabs into my right butt cheek and down my right leg! In spite of my pain, I was determined to continue on and do ... Besides, I couldn't sit for long, stand for long, lay down for long and when I moved, it hurt ALL THE TIME. I really couldn't NOT do because it hurt, so doing, which in this case was preparing for camping and then camping, in the midst of pain, had to be. I had my doctor appointments in and relief wouldn't come until after this camping weekend. So .... grin and bear it? I knew camping was far better than moaning around the house, feeling sorry for myself!

After several breaks and lots of painful WORK, all was gathered for my family to carry and load. I was already in so much pain just gathering, no way I would be able to load it without help. This was really a bummer for me. And as the weekend wore on, I would finally surrender and determine this camping trip, at least this primitive camping, would be my last. It will take a miracle back repair to ever make this possible again. And relying on others, no matter how much they love you, to load and carry ALL that I pack is not fair to them.

Kids and grand kids arrived at 11 am to load up the car. I then ran errands in town and filled up the cooler before finally heading out to the lake by early afternoon.

I enlisted Tanya and Cody's help to unload the heavy stuff I brought and I made the SEVERAL PAINFUL steps, carrying all I had packed and thought necessary. Why couldn't I just take the bare minimum? :/

Oh, and those keys that got locked in Tanya's car? Well, after trying a few other alternatives, like road assistance ... the kids finally got the car door opened with that hanger and pliers I didn't forget to bring out. :)

While we were unloading my car, the rest of the Brill troupe arrived and then a mass flurry of unpacking and setting up camp began.


Look I already have visitors! :)

This was my living quarters that weekend. The tent, seen above, was stocked with a twin air mattress, piled with 4 quilts, 3 blankets, 3 body pillows, 3 reg pillows, 2 throw pillows and then 3 separate bags for all I thought I would need. 1 for my lake wear, 1 for my books and Nook and Nintendo DS and the like, and 1 for my bathroom stuff that had to be small enough, and easy, to haul up to bathroom when needed. The awning provided shade for my outdoor space and looks it's best in the above picture. Later in the weekend, it would .... well, read on and find out.

It took me til near sundown to get my camping space in order. I had to take breaks when the pain in my back was beyond bearable and probably should have taken more breaks than what I did ... ok, ok, I should NOT have hauled sooooo much out but doubt that would have made much difference, either. What I brought to my camp was not new. I've ALWAYS hauled a lot AND loved it. But I physically have ChANgEd! I'm nearly 60 now and in the last 4 years, my back has progressed from a broken tail bone to this constant pain in the lower lumbar region, that I'm told, is due to the consequences of my fall in 2008, the recent compression fracture didn't help and the normal aging process. Screw aging if it takes away my favorite activities! I understand now why some old folks are darn grumpy! I was grumpy from the time I got my camp up (surly not before?!) til .... 

Anyway, camp was up and I was making my rounds visiting everyone's camp spot.

Mark and Co had gotten into a little tiff about where to place their sleeping tent. My dear friend, Co, is really not the camping type when it comes to bugs and non-FUNCTIONING restrooms and so, bless her, she comes camping anyway but requires a bathroom close by. For her, CLOSE by, is just a few paces from the tent. For Mark, a half a block away did not seem unreasonable. My dear friend, Mark, loves to celebrate his birthday with camping and has a mind-set on how he wants to place the tents. So, for a bit, it was uncomfortable, with many of us offering our two bits to fuel the flame. Eventually, as they have for years, Mark and Co finally reached a compromise, which included Tanya moving their tent next to Becka and Mo's, whom had arrived just before the tent location debate. We wouldn't learn, until a day later,  where the kids relocated to, in between the protection of two old cottonwoods,would be a much safer spot.

By sundown, everyone had their spot set up and Jeremy and Kyle began working on the fire pit. I was impressed with each personalized camp spot I visited. The Annual Brill Camp Out had begun!


Shel and Patrick and grandson, Corban, arrived in time for sundown and supper. They weren't going to set up their camp until tomorrow. Gary arrived during the tent debate and without a tent of his own. This was his first year NOT camping. He had a motel room to retreat to. By Saturday night, Gary's motel room would be remembered as the best place to be when it storms. Storms? What? We were experiencing one of the DRIEST years, remember?!

Becka's back, Mo's legs, Tanya and Kilo standing, Cody sitting and Kiana's back at his feet. In the distance, is Jeremy's truck and camp.

To the left is Tanya, Cody and Kilo's digs. To the right is Becka, Mo and Kira's digs. Whose Kira? She's a white, with black speckles, pit bull that is taking a nap in their tent during this shot.

Below, the best fire pit ever! Brothers, Jeremy and Kyle Brill, were the fire pit bosses.

Supper time was a fend for yerself time. So everyone broke into their coolers and supplies and soon each had feasted on what they found. Then we sat around the campfire watching for some of those Perseid meteors until one by one we disappeared into our tents. Except Gary ... he had the motel room, remember?      

08-11-12

Far left, that lil dark green tent and behind the two far left cottonwood trunks were the compromised locations of Mark and Co's tents. Nestled in between those six cottonwood trees, is where my lil camp site rested. The screened food tent was located mid ground, between all the camp sites. Far right, is part of Tanya and Cody's condo.

I shoulda moved over a bit in this shot to catch Jeremy's campsite. Or I could have set my camera to panorama to try and catch the whole camp site. This year we were spread out more than years past.


Woke Saturday morning around 5:30 am. I wasn't as sore as I feared I would be when I went to bed after
11 pm. When I trudged up to my tent, from last nights campfire, I hurt so bad I just wanted to crawl into bed and cry! After adjusting all the pillows, propping here and stuffing a pillow there, I finally settled in and fell asleep. Again, it was a fitful sleep but sleep I did. It was a beautiful morning. Cool and partly cloudy.
Took some campsite shots but didn't capture the whole camp in one shot as spread out as we all were.



Good morning Mark! And look who's keeping you company, Kira. This is the only picture I got of the camp from this angle ... before this day was done, those tents in the background and that awning in this picture would be no more ....

Anyway ... put my camera in that lawn chair (remember this for later) and got my propane camper stove up to heat a tea pot of water for my regular morning hot cup of green tea. Went to my picnic basket and got out some tableware and boxed cereal. To the cooler for some milk and a lemon coffee cake I picked up at the deli. (Sometimes fixing the food for a camp out is just too much. Thank heavens for deli's!)  By then tea pot was whistling.

Hot tea in hand, I retreated to my tent, to a comfy spot on my air bed, and with pillows propped up behind me, I took a moment for my morning meditation. I don't always do this when I'm away from home but this seemed like a good morning to reflect on my Lord and His Blessings. Sometimes, I don't feel like doing this and with my painful back reminding me the Greatest Healer of All had not blessed me with relief, it can feel like a waste of time. Seems if one prays and meditates to hear an answer and the answer doesn't come ... might be easier to just quit. What's the use ... but I believe and so I just cling to that, even when the pain is still so great. Nothing good comes from focusing on my pain so on that morning, I reveled in where I was. I was camping on the beach of Lake McConaughy. There I was, blessed beyond compare. A camp full of people I dearly loved. Focusing on that, I knew I could endure and while waiting for God, the Greatest Healer, the Lord Almighty, to hear my prayers, I could value His gift in this gathering of friends and family. 

6:30 am and I grabbed my bathroom bag and headed up the sand hill behind my tent to the restroom. On the jaunt to the restroom, I stopped and watched the rising sun as it spread out rays that would weave in and out of the cloud cover. After all the heat we had endured, this cool, cloud cover, with splashes of the rising sun reaching out was quite refreshing. It made me want to sing, so I did. I sang my
'This is the day the Lord hath made, I will rejoice and be glad in it. ...'
morning song to the sunrise.

By the time I had gotten back to camp and put on another tea pot of water for my instant coffee, folks were starting to stir. I thought of em as early risers but then I remembered they were all from CST. So to them, my 7 am is 8 am. Not early after all. :) Jeremy was already in the food tent rustling up another camp stove to heat up some water for coffee.

I grabbed my lemon coffee cake and added it to their breakfast buffet they were setting up in the food tent and settled in by the fire to eat my breakfast. Gary arrived from his motel room in town, with a paper and coffee. I would smile and remember that even when he camped, he would run into town that 1st morning up and grab a paper and coffee and return to camp just as the rest of us would be up heating our coffee water.

The rest of the morning was spent just hanging out around the campfire, sweeping sand out of my tent and re-organizing my camp site or brief visits to various camp sites. 

Around mid day a game sheet and teams were drawn up and an area raked and cleared and made ready for some game time. Under a cloudy sky, our horse shoe and rope golf tournament began. Shel, Patrick and Corban arrived about this time and set up their tent and joined in on the games.

Right off the bat, the red rope balls got stuck in the tree branch. First, we tried the 'up on brother Kyles shoulders' to try and reach those balls. Whose balls were those, anyway? I was glad Gary did this first, because I was positive I would have, when my turn came up. :)

When the balls were still out of reach, Mo, showed us his talent at tree scrambling, which must be done with bare feet and a cigarette hanging from the mouth. The balls were retrieved and Mo was our hero. The games resumed!  


I played, I lost and then I got to sit and join the cheering section.

We played games until mid afternoon when the sun broke through and it suddenly became unbearably hot! Time to get into the water. We loaded up into the Schellpeper Jeep and Jeremy Brill's awesome truck and drove to the beach. My back was soooooo appreciative. If we had hiked, as slow as I was walking, by then, I would have just made it to the water by the time the swimmers were headed back to camp. :/

To the beach!


I don't know how long we played in the water before we drove back to camp, but it was long enough to cool us off and sooth some dogie paws. The beach sand and frequent sambers were making the paws of Kilo and Kira raw and sore. Last year, Kilo's paws had even started bleeding. To avoid bloody paws this year, Tanya and Cody ran into town and bought a package of baby footie's. I wish I would have taken a picture of their paws in those socks! :) It sure helped.

Once refreshed, we headed back to camp. Saturday night was going to be our communal supper. On the menu was:  baked white & sweet potatoes, grilled steaks, corn on the cob, potato salad (my contribution), calico beans (also my contribution) and watermelon (again, I brought the melon). Once in the camp, the cooks engaged in supper preparations while watching the sky. There was even a corn shucking circle.

Supper preparations were moving along and so was an impending thunderstorm that loomed closer over the northwestern sky.  I hadn't even finished preparing the sweet potatoes before Patrick announced to the camp that the storm we were watching was heading right for us! From his smart phone and it's radar, we could see that we weren't in the middle of the path, more on the edge but we were definitely alerted. I put the potatoes aside and started securing my camp site.

From the food tent, Jeremy had turned up the radio and Josh Mackey, a local radio announcer, was alerting the public to the impending storm and it's path and the possibility of 1 1/2 inch hail and 70 mph winds. Once Jeremy turned down the radio the whole camp went into high gear and secured all they could. When we thought we had everything tucked and packed, some of us went back to food preparation and others sat around the fire pit and watched the approaching storm.

I took my now seasoned and foiled sweet potatoes to add them to the rest for baking on the coals. For a bit I stood at the fire pit and watched the dark clouds as they moved closer and closer to us. I remember mentally pleading with the sky to take the storm around us. But when a slight breeze picked up, I headed to my camp site to lower a little shade umbrella so it wouldn't blow away. The awning? I thought about taking it down but ....    didn't. When I reached my tent and looked out over the bay to the west, I could see the HEAVY rain coming. The little water in Martin Bay was calm and still on our side of the bay but as the wall of rain approached the water behind it was churned with splashing. I wish I would have taken a picture. Instead I yelled, "HERE IT COMES! YOU CAN SEE THE RAIN COMING!"

Quickly, I lowered the little umbrella and just had time to grab my chairs and get them under the awning when the rain hit. Hard. It was a hard, near straight down rain. I pulled up my rug by my tent door and threw it under a table and jumped into my tent as quick as my back would let me. From inside the tent the rain was hard and heavy. I pulled things away from the tent walls to keep them dry, and tried to prop out the rain cover so the rain would drain away from the tent.

It was a good, wet, hard rain and I don't know how long it went on before it finally let up and we all clamoured out of our tents, laughing and checking on one another and our food that was still cooking. The Brill men had the meal protected under a slab of plywood, strategically placed and weighted over the fire pit of hot coals. Yep, the potatoes were still there and dry. :)

I began to shake things out so they could dry and my awning had big pools of water weighing down all four sides. I proceeded to push the canopy up, to spill the water out. Later, I would wish I left the heavy pools of water in it. The extra weight might have helped. Once I got my camp shook out, I went back to the fire pit and we sat around and laughed about what we just experienced, thinking we were done for the evening.

It was still sprinkling a bit and lightning and thunder were still rumbling but I was so sure we had missed the bullet by being on the edge of the storm. Just when I thought we could now focus on supper, the wind started blowing. A bit more than a breeze and darn me, I'd put that lil umbrella up again, so back to my camp I went to lower that umbrella down for the second time that evening. This time I had just got it lowered when ...  WHAM! BAM!

Wind hit me so hard I fell to the side on one of my lawn chairs. That awning took off,  straight up, like a rocket,  and then flipped sideways and crashed across the top of my tent. I yelled, "WATCH OUT, THE AWNING!!!", and scrambled over the lawn chair I had fallen against, to my tent, which was just getting ready to blow up and off. All the stakes on the west side were pulled up and out. I jumped on the threshold opening to the tent and sat down, at the same time, grabbing hold of the two tent poles on either side of the door and held on with all I had in me while the tent whipped away from me and acted, several times, like it was going to lift up and dump me out and fly off! 

How long did I sit on the threshold of my tent (on the outside of the zipped rain cover, mind you!), with my arms extended up and apart, with my hands gripping those tent polls and holding on for dear life! I was battered mercilessly by a heavy rain and sparks from the pit fire, directly west of my camp site, that Patrick and Shelby had dug and lit, just before the 1st storm wave. The fire had survived the first heavy rain and the kids had just stoked it after, what we thought was the end, of the rain. Luckily the sparks were not burning anything because the rain was too heavy and I have no idea when this storm wave put it out, but out it was when this wave passed. I wouldn't have been able to burn anyway as I was drenched within minutes and sitting in a pool of water, just inside the threshold of my tent ...  that was blowing near over by the force a steady slamming wind, with gusts that seemed equal to that of a hurricane! Ok ...I can be quite the drama queen. 

The wind and rain seemed to slam me forever. When I was able to see through the torrents of rain drenching me, and my tent was near prone to the ground, making the screened food tent visible. It looked like Jeremy and  Mark were trying to hold it and the tables that had the food, near ready, from all blowing away.

In fact, everyone that was in their tents, were bracing the west side of their tents against the violent wind.

I would learn later, that Kyle had taken refuge in Tanya and Cody's tent just seconds before the awning blew by the front of their tents, right after it had crashed into the tree that they set the tent behind. Co had just made it to her and Mark's tent, was zipping the door when the wind hit, It blew the tent right out of her hand.  She ran back to the food tent, right by me sitting and clinging to my tent and showed the fellas what was left of her tent. She was clutching a piece of one of the tent poles, all that was left, when it blew the tent upward and into the tree behind it.  As the storm raged on, Co then sought refuge in Tanya and Cody's tent.

Why didn't I just let go of my tent and seek refuge in one of the kid's tents?

Well, it was my husbands Cabela's tent. It would have been a real bummer losing his tent. That tent had history! Memories! It's been my camping tent for near 20 years. I also had my Nook, Nintendo DS, purse, and so much stuff!  I didn't want to lose in that tent or my stuff! (And I didn't think I had a materialistic bone in my body. Ha!) It seemed important, at the time, to just hang on and wait out the storm ... as long as my arms held out ... but, man, they hurt! And I started to shake. Shaking for me, with my back burning in pain ... not good. I wanted to cry. What a bummer!! We suffer all summer from hot, dry, 3 digit temps and on the ONE WEEKEND WE CAMP it storms like a hurricane!

When the lightning and thunder seemed to surround me I began to panic!! I was in a pool of water, holding onto metal tent poles and it was really lightning,  ...   BIG TIME!! Everyone, who know me, knows how terrified I am of lightning! I clamped my eyes shut and began praying profusely from that moment on!! I begged God to forgive me for all my sins that would wrought such a punishment by Mother Nature. I begged Him to protect all the campers. I prayed that no one would get struck by lightning and I was hoping He would include me in that request. I pleaded with Him to make the storm end because I wasn't sure how long I could hold on. And when the storm raged on, I began begging that He would help me endure.

Finally my arms were screaming at me to change position. As the storm still raged, I squirmed my way under the rain cover and in through the tent door that I had left unzipped so I could get in quick. I grabbed a blanket with one hand while still holding on to one tent pole, and stuffed it under me to absorb the building pool of water. I then worked my way into a standing position, on the inside of the tent, where I could then hold the tent poles, on either side of the door, with my arms lowered. FINALLY out of the rain! What a relief that was! And so ... there I stood, for who knows how long, until the storm lessened in intensity and then, finally abated.

WHEW!! I sat down on my soaked blanket and thanked the Lord that He finally moved the storm on. Before I could whine, I heard voices from Shel &  Patrick's tent and then voices from others as we all, once again, emerged from our tents and took stock of the storms damage.

Wow.

Mark and Co lost two tents. I lost my awning and by the Grace of God, it didn't injure someone. I took pictures the next morning because ... remember that lawn chair I put my camera in? Yep, it got rained on so I had to wait to use it. And THEN when it was all dry, I folded up that lawn chair and dropped my camera in the sand. The lens won't close now.

And that communal supper? I think I was in a daze. I don't remember eating and my potato salad, beans and melon never made it to the meal.

I do remember scrounging for tent stakes to re stake the west side of my saved tent. Then I went about shaking everything out. I hung the soaked blanket on a tree limb. Didn't have to worry about it blowing away as there was only a strong breeze lingering after that battering wind! The calm after the storm.

I remember changing out of my wet clothes and into layers of warmth. A long skirt, with leggings under and a sweat shirt and a blanket to wrap up in by the fire. Then I trudged back to the fire pit with a body pillow to put on my lawn chair I had drying by the fire. I wrapped the blanket around me, put my body pillow under me and laid on that chair ... close to the fire ... watching the clearing night sky for the meteor shower.

 I remember all the darn mosquitoes and bugs around the lanterns! From nothing at all before the storm, to hoards after! And I forgot my bug spray!

I remember being tired, cold, hurting ALL over and dazed. I may not have been struck by lightning but I sure felt zapped!

I went to bed after seeing at least one awesome falling star (I know it wasn't a falling star but still...) with my friend Co. Everything I read and posted to my Facebook wall, reported the Perseid shower would have 60-100 meteors an hour at it's peak. For those of us watching the skies that night, August 11 to after midnight August 12th ... we only saw about 6 - 8 an hour.

In years past, we use to lay on our lawn chairs, all eyes on the sky and two people had to see the 'falling star' to be able to count it. Seems there was a year we saw many but could only count more than 20.  60-100 an hour on that 'calm after the storm' night would have soothed my weary storm fighting bones. So, after one spectacular one that Co and I both saw, together, I headed painfully up to my tent. 

Off to bed. My tent was amazingly warm and dry and standing tall again. I loaned Mark and Co a pillow and blanket as they now choose to bunk in their vehicle.

And did anyone remember Gary? Gary disappeared that night and he never returned. I've yet to find out his side of this experience.

08-12-12 Sunday morning

My awning

See my green tent, WAY over there? Amazing how it is wedged in this tree.

Two tents lost from this direction. Only the tents that were manned, stayed in place. Note Patrick's tent here the morning after the storm. He and Shelby and Corban had a rough time holding their tent, together. Later,  he would cut up my broken awning and use some of the legs as stakes.
Now note the tent stake. And can you miss the contraption over the fire pit? No, we didn't try it. But it was interesting to try and come up with ways to salvage the pieces of what was once the awning. :)


Sunday morning I was up early after hardly sleeping. I had decided to stay on one more night. By now I was hurting so bad that I did not have the energy to pack up my camp. I was surrendering to the fact that this camping venture might be my last. And so I thought staying one more night would give me time to refresh and be more prepared to take down my camp ... one last time.

Breakfast was a creation of leftovers from Saturday nights stormy meal with french toast. I do remember eating breakfast and how good it was! Thank you, Jeremy! And anyone else that worked on that tasty treat!!

It was sad to watch the Brill troupe pack up and hit the road. What a sap I can be. It wasn't like I was never going to see them again. They are my second family, after all. But weathering the storm out together and all sharing the memory ... probably from very different perspectives but none-the-less, a bonding experience  and maybe a foreboding feeling that more change was coming made for the blues that Sunday morning. Change can be good. Change can be bad.  Next year I won't be primitive camping. And that really made me sad. :(

Good-byes were said and Shelby and Patrick and Corban also took off for town. So for a couple of hours, I was all alone, on the sandy beach at Martin Bay, listening to Mrs. Woodpecker feed her chicks and banter with a couple of other woodpeckers in the nearby cottonwoods. If it wouldn't have been for the biting flies, my time would have been very tranquil. And they were biting me with a vengeance! Only around the ankles ... why was that?
The Schellpeper clan returned. We loaded up the Jeep and drove over to a point where Martin Bay squeezes into the big lake. The wind had picked up, which kept the biting flies at bay. But the strong gusts  would send a whirlwind of sand blasting. Out on this point, we could avoid both the flies and the blowing sand.
After swimming and returning to camp, Patrick and Shel went home. They both had to work Monday. They left their tent up, re-staked with bigger stakes. Grand-daughter, Justice and friend Chloe and Grand-son Corban were going to camp out with Nana for her last night. Should have been a lot of fun right?


Sunday evening


The kids and I put together a picnic meal of all the things I had forgotten to contribute to the Brill communal meal. I was glad I camped one more day to use up most of my food supplies. :) So our picnic had;  potato salad, beans, ham sandwiches (for the kids), hummus/pesto sandwiches (for me) and chips with picante, pico de gallo, and french onion dips. It was truly a feast.

After we cleaned up our meal stuff, it was early evening and we changed into our suits again and hiked down to the water for a swim. At this point the attitudes of the girls began changing and from that time on they would be difficult. In all fairness, I, too, had an attitude that was becoming difficult. The constant pain in my back was making me one heck of a bitch! They could scamper off at a faster pace and I would complain. They wanted to swim longer and I complained. The walk back was long and full of whining from ALL of us. In spite of all that ... it was beautiful night for an early evening swim. Hardly any wind, the sun was setting majestically and it was the kind of night I would have wished ... one night earlier, minus the biting flies.

Once in camp, Chloe got a fire going in the fire pit and both girls worked on lighting the tiki lamps and citronella pails. They had little effect on those darn biting flies. But when it got dark enough, the flies quit biting. Do they go to sleep for the night?

Dusk was a good time to heat up some water and take a spit bath in my tent. Spit bath? Well, ya fill a tub or bucket with water hot enough to wash in. I put the tub (small one ... only big enough to put my feet in) on tent floor and pour water from a pitcher til about 1/4 full. Then, from the camp stove, I poured the hot water from the enamel coffee pot until it was the temperature I wanted. So, while sitting on a towel on the air bed and using a wash cloth, began washing from the face down. A bar of organic soap to clean with and a hand towel to dry off with. May not have been a shower but it still felt great to wash up, put on some lotion and put on clean lake wear for the night. Ahhhhhh ...

After getting cleaned up and the girls had returned to camp with some more water they retrieved from the water spigot off the north side of the restroom house, I heated more water on the camp stove for a hot foot soak. I added a few drops of lavender oil and some Mary Kay Foot Bath and soaked some of my tension away while watching the kids as they sat around the fire. My ankles were bleeding from all the fly bites so it was especially soothing to them!

The girls thought my spit bath idea was cool so they took turns taking their own baths in their tent, while I gave Corban his own spit bath right in front of my tent. He could stand in the middle of the tub while I soaped him up and rinsed him off. Who needs the luxury of a home tub and shower?

After the kids cleaned up and had on their night wear, the girls decided they wanted to try the foot soak, too. So we heated up more water and each had their own foot soak. I think this was kinda fun for them and made camping without showers a bit more manageable.

We sat around the fire and Corban told us his ghost stories that included snakes eating crocodiles. :) I tried to apologize to the girls for being so grouchy and that it wasn't all due to their attitudes as much as it was trying to deal with my back pain. I thanked them and especially, Chloe, for the times they did pitch in and help. I would never have gotten the fire going and without them hauling water to the camp, no foot soaks. So we ended our evening fairly early and put out the fire and off to our tents for a good nights sleep? 

08-13-12


Monday morning. What a cold morning! At least it kept the biting flies at bay. It was also a slow moving morning. I sat in my tent and drank a hot cup of green tea and read a page out of a prayer book I brought with me. (Anne Moore's 'Praying God's Word')  Then I just sat there, all snuggled on my pillow laden air bed and listened to the early morning sounds around Lack Mac. Seagulls were squealing and the breeze was gentle and cold. For just a moment, I felt totally content.

I grabbed my bathroom bag and trudged to the bathroom. I didn't feel any less pain, staying one more night, but I did feel refreshed.

Back in camp, I heated up some coffee water and retired to my tent, for what I believed would be the last time, and read a USA paper that Gary had left behind. Gary? I wondered what happened to him? For a brief moment, I got scared. What if he got hurt ... lost ... or ... ??? But no, surely he was ok. No news is good news, right?

Justice woke up sick. Sucks to pack and load when you feel crappy. Later she cut her foot, just digging her toes in the sand. Needless to say, it took forever to pack up everything. No one felt good. If someone wasn't  puking, running to the crapper all the time, or bemoaning a back that was driving them (me) to want to DRINK, then they were making others miserable with constant complaining.

It was such a relief to get everything packed up, loaded and back home. The first thing I did was jump in the shower and run hot water for a long, long time down my back.

Next year, for the Brill Camp Out, I will be in a camper.
Or a cabin by the lake.

Good bye primitive camping.
Years of memories of good times.
I've grown old camping in a tent.
In spite of the biting flies that made my ankles bleed,
In spite of attitudes that made me swear,
In spite of back pain from hell,
I'll miss the feeling tent camping can bring,
When you wake to seagulls squealing,
And a calm, gentle lake breeze.
In spite of Justice cutting her food on trash in the sand,
In spite of family feeling sick from who knows what,
In spite of the hassle to load my camp gear up,
I'm glad I spent one more night out.
Now I'm ready.
Good bye primitive camping.