Last night it was off to CAMS to see the Discovery Corps, Lewis and Clark.

This is an expedition and reenactment of the famous and infamous journey of William Clark and Meriwether Lewis. They have ties to Fincastle in that Clark married a local girl, Julia Hancock.

I will be writing a short article on it for the local paper. Fortunately I was not responsible for pictures, which is a good thing as none of mine turned out very well. The little Nikon Coolpix camera I use just does not perform well in large open enclosures like auditoriums.

When I pulled my pictures up, I spied this shot of the fellow portraying Meriwether Lewis. Lewis was a taciturn and quiet man by all accounts, and he reportedly ended up taking his own life.

The shot to the right caught my eye because of the apparent disembodied head looking over Lewis's shoulder. I just thought it was kind of weird and rather appropriate, given Lewis's character. If any man would be haunting, it would be him, I think. And given the fact that many of the men doing the reenacting, including the man portraying William Clark, were ancestors of the original Corps of Discovery, it seems just as likely that a ghost would be on the stage as not.

Doctors and Dragons

My CT scan yesterday at Community Hospital was a breeze. I worried a lot about it prior to having it done, but there was no need.

I didn't require any kind of injections and I can't recall ever getting in and out of a medical facililty so quickly.

I blame my doctor for my needless worry. Had she been more interested in being a health care provider it would have helped, I think. Instead she seemed put out that I was taking up space in an examining room.

My general practitioner whom I had had for over 15 years retired at the first of the year. No one came in to replace him (they just did hire someone, it took 10 months), and that left his patients hanging. This was a Carilion family practice.

When we (my husband or I) called in right after he left, we were swapped around or dispatched to a nurse practitioner. I have nothing against nurse practitioners for check ups or mundane things, but when I am sick, I want a doctor. (Now we each have "settled" on one of the physicians who practice at this clinic, but it's been a chore just getting to that point.)

When my vertigo/ear issues first hit, I saw the nurse practitioner. When she couldn't help, she sent me to a specialist I had seen before. The specialist was an absolute bozo who told me that the problem was TMJ, not my ear. He gave me an exercise that involved banging my head against the couch, saying try it, but I don't think it will work. I kid you not.

This is not TMJ, by the way.

Then, over the course of two months, with vertigo dogging me so much that I could hardly function, I visited three more general practitioners and another specialist before I ended up with the specialist I now have. And the only way I ended up with someone who at least gave me something that would help, even if I am now questioning her bedside manner, was to call my old retired doctor and ask for help.

When you are sick, jumping through that many hoops to get care is dismaying and tiring. When you need help and can't find it, you despair.

I think the health care system is completely broken. I don't know how it will be fixed. It is tied in with the economy and with finances and with people's personal wealth, so whatever you do, someone will howl. It will take a leader with very strong guts to effect great change.

But the doctors themselves could do better. I don't like feeling like I don't matter. Making a patient feel inconsequential is not what I consider good health care.

I wish the insurance companies would make the doctors have you fill out an evaluation form or else they wouldn't get paid. And then they would get paid based on the evaluation. I think if the money was truly tied to performance, it would help. As it is, why should a doctor bother spending a lot of time with a patient? He gets more money if he speeds us through like we're pigs on the way to slaughter.

I don't know if doctors actually get into medicine to help people anymore. Surely some of them do, but it seems like the money is the first thing they're worried about. So I automatically assume that the money is why they're there.

I now have a GP who will do, but I am not 100 percent pleased. And my ENT will do, but again, I am not entirely pleased.

What would I like in a doctor?

1) Genuine concern and total focus on the patient.
2) Good listening skills.
3) An understanding that the patient has lived in her body and knows when something is "off", nevermind the medical books.
4) Prescriptions that cure, not cover up.
5) Efforts to seek a cure, not the quickest way to mask the problem.
6) Explanations of all procedures and diagnoses when they are tossed out. Don't just mention "Meniere's Disease" and then never explain it, as my ENT did with me on Thursday.
7) Don't suggest procedures that have no relevance to the problem.
8) Don't automatically assume "it's all in her head."
9) A willingness to go the extra two steps it might take to help someone.

I am sure there are many more things I'd like in a doctor, but those come to mind most quickly.

The deer stands by the oak tree
lithe and watchful.
Her pulse pounds as ears twitch
taking in the sounds
of a squirrel bouncing from a limb
a crow cawing in the field
and the dim noise
of my eyes
as they penetrate space and time.

 

The Hunting Season

Today is the first day of muzzleloader season for deer. This means nothing, of course, if you don't hunt or live in the country.

Around here, it is a BIG DEAL. Hunting season defines the autumns.

This means that beginning today, every weekend, and some weekdays, I am the hostess of a hunting camp.

This morning Husband left at 4 a.m. to relieve another firefighter so he could come here and hunt. When I got up this morning at 7 a.m. (you didn't think I got up at 4 a.m. with him, did you?), there were two pick ups in the driveway.

I had to call Husband and make sure one was okay, as it was unfamiliar, but it was another firefighter down to hunt. Good thing because it was too early to call the law.

I heard a shot and later another.

A little later, a third pick up truck grumbled its way up our driveway.

It is a happy time for the men. Not so happy for me because I sometimes get stuck fixing them all lunch.

So today I went out at 11 a.m. and did some shopping. I missed the lunch crowd. Whew.

When I returned, the third truck was gone. But two fellows were sitting in one of the trucks, gossiping. Yes, they were gossiping. Guys gossip. A lot.

The shots I heard were fired by some unauthorized trespassers on the back side of the farm, I learned. I will have to let Husband deal with that as he thinks he knows the culprits.

The two fellows said they were going to sit in the truck in the backyard for a while. "You're not going to see any deer sitting in the truck," I said.

They waved me a way.

Not too much later, I looked out the window in my office. Standing there pretty as you please were three does. I smiled to myself, then went out and knocked on the truck window. "The deer are in the front yard," I said.

They bailed from the truck quick enough, I assure you. I went back inside and watched them sneak around the house to see.

No shots were fired and the does eventually meandered into the woods.

That's the way it will be around here for the rest of this month.

The Health Care System

Yesterday I saw my ear, nose and throat doctor.

This was at her request. She wanted to see me before refilling my medication. I'm taking Zyrtec and Singulair for this weird problem I have with my ear.

My ear gets a full feeling and sometimes I have vertigo. I suffer from motion sickness a lot, and sometimes just a movement of my head can make me feel like I've been riding for hours in the mountains of West Virginia.

The allergy medications help but are no cure. When this first hit me back in February, I went through a series of doctors before this ENT finally gave me a steroid shot and the allergy meds. The other ENTs were all content to say, "you've got something wrong with your ear" and send me home.

But then the ENT I ended up with has been practicing medicine on me since March 31 without seeing me. She saw me one time and then everything else has been over the phone. From a financial standpoint that hasn't been so bad but I have not felt like I've gotten very good care.

What has happened is that no one has looked for any cause or bothered to attempt to explain to me what may or may not be going on. When I tell them that the entire left side of my head, where my ear hurts, has problems with the sinuses staying inflamed, they act as if none of it is connected.

But I think it is all connected. I think that I have some inflammation in my sinuses that is causing swelling that is affecting my ear. That is my theory. But no one will even bother to tell me if such a thing is possible or impossible, scientifically. I am no doctor. I don't know.

It seems to be beyond the medical doctors these days to actually take the time to explain anything. I asked questions and received a blank look. I asked if there could be a connection between my sinuses and my balance and received another blank look. I asked if they could X-ray my sinuses. She said she could do a CAT Scan; did I want sinus surgery? She seldom recommends sinus surgery for an ear problem, she said. I must've looked very confused, because I said, "Wouldn't that depend on what the X-rays show?" I didn't think that sinus surgery was even a point of conversation at that point.

I just want to know if I do have some major inflammation in my sinuses because I think if I can get that calmed down it would help the ear problem. Surely it wouldn't hurt to get it calmed down. Don't you think?

She did not explain what a CAT scan is and since I asked about sinus X-Rays I assumed it was some kind of X-ray. After I left her office I found out it might require some kind of contract dye injection, and I am not going to allow anything to be injected in me. I am having enough troubles without adding stuff that doesn't belong in my body.

I called back and asked her nurse if the dye stuff is necessary; she didn't know. I have to talk to the people at the hospital where they do the testing, she said.

I wish I had an option when I saw the doctor that would allow me to tell my insurance company not to pay them because of poor performance. I think I would use that a lot. Although maybe if doctors knew they weren't going to get paid unless they actually practiced medicine as opposed to capitalistic health care, maybe there would be no need to use that option.

I am pretty fed up and am considering canceling this X-ray thing. I just wish it wasn't scheduled so soon (it's Monday) so I'd have more time to consider all the options.

Ssssssss

Yikes.

This was a pygmy rattlesnake, according to my Audubon guide.

Whatever it was, it was on my front porch late Tuesday evening. It was too cold for snakes and this one had made an effort to get into my house, which of course was much warmer.

Part of its tail was up under the vinyl siding. I spied it when I slipped outside in the rain and fog with a video camera in hopes of capturing images of a very large buck. The fog was such that this was pretty much a wasted effort, but I was rewarded with the snake instead. If rewarded is the right word.

I poked the snake, which was about 18 inches long, with a hoe, shivering and quivering all the while. I try very hard to love all of God's creatures, but snakes and some bugs make that difficult. I did not realize at the time that I might be dealing with a poisonous snake, although of course I always keep that in the back of my mind.

The snake was moving very slowly from the cold. But it was alive. It's little tongue flicked in and out (::shiver::) and it attempted to coil but couldn't quite make it. It's tail seemed stuck in a crack in the vinyl and it took me while to get the snake away from the house. I could tell by the way it wasn't moving that it was going to freeze soon. I felt kind of sorry for it. This reminded me of an old song from my childhood, the lyrics of which are below.

Instead of singing to the snake, I put a bucket over it and waited for Husband to come home. He dispatched of it, and I did not ask him questions as to the hows and whys of his method of disposal.

A SWVA resource

I wanted to give a shout out for lotzothoughts who has created a new search engine specifically for local bloggers.

http://swvablogsearch.googlepages.com

The idea is that if we're all writing about the same topic, say, the elections yesterday, then it will be easier to find what we're all saying. He is going to be adding other features too, so be sure to check it out.

The tops of trees

I just happened to glance out my window Sunday morning in time to see the sun do a dance on the tops of the oak trees and the hillside beyond.

I slipped outside and was startled when a doe snorted at me. She ran and another doe, previously unseen, came from the side of the house and nearly ran over me. I was too surprised to take a picture.

My days anymore seem crammed with work, with effort, and with lots of thought. Sometimes I have so much to do that I am frozen by the knowledge of it all. I am writing five articles (or more) a week, with all that entails, keeping a clean house (having a home office is not a harbinger of good housekeeping, regardless of what certain in-laws might think), trying to stay healthy (very difficult for me), keeping my tax information current, working on a new filing system, holiday shopping, writing a novel, and building a website.

The website has become the biggest burden hanging over my head, with the filing system a close second.

I chose back in October to attempt to build a website and decided to use a specific web-site building program recommended to me by a friend. It cost $300, and I couldn't find any way to build a website and *not* spend $300, so I decided to use this option.

This is a special type of marketing/website building program, and it is set up so that it (a) holds your hand and (b) forces you to do it *exactly* as instructed, without deviation. It comes with more manuals than I ever dreamed possible - I have printed out over 300 pages of information, and have at least triple that saved in .pdf files, with more still out there. So much information that it is nearly paralyzing, actually.

But I have discovered a lot of things while attempting to do this:

• I am not a linear type of gal. If there is a path, I prefer to walk . . . way over there, off the path . . . and see the moss and the leaves.
• I prefer clean, straight directions without distractions. I don't like being constantly persuaded and "sold", especially after I've already made up my mind, and this website does a *lot* of persuading and selling.
• I do better if I can play around with a program and figure it out myself, or have someone demonstrate it and explain it. Video programs and manuals that seem to never get to the point don't do it for me.
• I don't have a lot of patience for programs that don't work without bugs. Some of the software used at this website crashes or hangs up on me so frequently that I have grown to despise it. I can only hope the actual website building software, which I haven't even begun to investigate yet, doesn't do the same.
• If I can find something more onerous than writing a novel, which this has turned out to be, then I will work on my novel instead of the more onerous task. (That alone has been worth the price of the website).

My life is a little confused right now. My directions are many, but all my options are open. Life is open, the doors are open. That can be bewildering. But is also exceedingly exhilarating, and I am not complaining. I am rejoicing in the challenges, and looking forward to seeing what the upcoming year brings.

The Peace Globe Initiative

This comes to me from Tom who brought it from Mimi, who apparently originated the idea of having November 7 be a day that bloggers write about peace.

Since today is Election Day in the U.S., it seems appropriate. When I read of it about a week ago, I put a notation on my calendar: "Blog About Peace."

That seems a bit incredulous at the moment, my thinking that I could blithely set aside a day to blog about something that the world needs more of.

We all should be thinking of peace, in all of its incarnations, at all hours of every day. For I truly believe if enough people want something badly enough, they can make it happen. I truly believe, because I have felt it, when two or more people pray for something, change occurs.

So hopefully today many bloggers will write of peace, and peace will come about.

World peace, of course, is the great desire, but I hold a wish closer to my heart. I wish for peace within families. I wish for each family a peace of the heart so that drug abuse, alcohol abuse, child abuse, spousal abuse - all of those sad and sorry destructive behaviors - go away. I truly believe if each person was peaceful in his or her own heart, then we would indeed have world peace.

So on this day I ask for this peace. And let it begin within my own heart, so that I may forgive.

The top of my head

I called my acupuncturist today to relay a difficult weekend. My balance remains an issue and I have an appointment Thursday with an ear nose and throat doctor. Some of my friends think I need a CT scan or an MRI or some such thing. I am not so sure, but I don't really know what can be seen with those kinds of X-rays.

"If you can be here in 10 minutes, I can do a little something for you before I leave for the day," Nicole said. So I quickly whisked myself into town.

She stuck a needle in the top of my head and sent me home with it. That was several hours ago, and the acupuncture needle sits there still. I am to take it out soon, however.

This is the first time she's sent me home with an acupuncture needle stuck in me, though I was aware she was doing it with some other folks I know who see her. I have some fears about this. What if somebody wants to pat me on the head, for example? Not that that happens a lot . . .

She also put patches which have tiny little acupuncture needles on them on my wrists, in about the place where one of those motion-sickness bands might sit, I think. These are to stay on for a number of days. I have had the little patches before, in different spots, and like them. They seem helpful and if nothing else give me an illusion of having done something.

The other thing I need to focus on, she said, is my food. I have to eat warm foods and keep my belly warm. No cold water, no salads, no oily foods, no greasy foods. I don't eat much of that anyway, actually, although I do tend to prefer my drinks cold.

I do better when I can follow these directions but honestly, I get tired of trying to eat "healthy" and find it quite difficult. It is so much easier to eat a chocolate bar.

Acupuncture affects my energy. Everyone has this energy, but it is mostly invisible in western society. We do not acknowledge these forces we cannot see, but I think it is affected by any number of things. This includes the interactions we have with others, the weather, exercise, the foods we eat, the moon and prayer. I think we can positively affect it but it takes work. There is so much negativity floating around in the air that it is difficult to overcome it.

I have tried other energy moving activities, including Reiki and Zero Balancing. Reiki is gentler and non-invasive; acupuncture, with its needles, does have an invasive quality to it. However, it seems to move the energy much quicker. Zero Balancing is in the middle. It is less invasive but does involve a great deal of touching, whereas Reiki can be done without touching a person at all.

Tai Chi helps me find my energy field. I have reached a point where I can gather a ball of energy and feel it in my hands. This is a relatively recent thing for me, and when it occurs I am elated.

When I was a child, I was so out of touch with myself that I was totally unaware of my energy. The girls used to play a game where they had you close your hand tightly. They would rub your closed hand for a moment. Then they would tell you to open your hand. They would reach into your palm and pull upward. "Can't you feel it? I'm pulling out your spirit," they would say.

I could never feel it then and I always thought I must be weird because nothing was there. I thought sometimes that maybe I just didn't have a soul, since I couldn't feel my spirit leave me.

Today, older and grayer, I can feel my energy.

I can feel my soul.

The bull and the donuts

This is the bull we bought about 10 days ago. He weighs about 1,400 pounds.



This is husband giving the bull his favorite treat.



That would be Krispy Kreme donuts.



He is one happy bull.

Free Hugs - Banned

http://youtube.com/watch?v=vr3x_RRJdd4

I know this video is making the rounds. Free Hugs.

I just wanted to make a note of it here, because it is so important that we be human and humane to one another. That we love and understand and believe in each other. That's the message of this video for me, that we meet on the common ground of humanity, one on one.

Yes, I am a 60s hippie throw-back. Peace, love, hugs. Can't get enough of them.

Outside, Looking In

Brown leaves blow against glass
tap silently for entrance.
Titmice shuffle, hoard beechnuts,
eyes squinting, wary. Inside
a summer cabin safe from snow
and ice, the rocker sways
in winter's draft, unconcerned.
Wolves whine, tails tucked,
and run from the night.

The hearth and ashes heave
with life; the rug lies bunched
in a corner, warm as a cub
in sunshine. A lamp lights
a rolltop desk. On its top
a book lies open, pages
smudged with damp caresses,
the back worn down with care.

The clock chimes time
to twilight, its white face
a somber hour, safe
from outer waters
which try to rust its gears.
At the door, the lock
clasps firmly, holds
when the knob is twisted.
In the wind, leaves
around me, my face tight
against the window,
I stand, guarding empty
havens, outside,
looking in.

A life of pills

http://www.cafeoflifepikespeak.com/Videos/Licensed%20To%20Pill.swf

Great little video.

Fourth Estate Sale

I ran across an article this morning in the San Antonio Current, which is not a mainstream paper, about the media and it's decline as a source of true information for the American public.

Of course this interested me greatly because I write for the local paper, and because I do believe that a free press, unfettered by anything, including the greed of profit, is a true servant of the people.

Unfortunately these days we don't have that, because the folks who own the media are in it for the money, not the truth. Maybe they never have been in it for the truth and maybe it's always been a racket, but I do have an illusion of principle that I hold up there in my head. That principle says, do no harm, tell the truth, do good.

I try to live by that but I don't find that to be the attitude of other people, and that includes other journalists, editors, and publishers.

So without further ado, here is a link to this article. It is in an indictment of the media, not of government, if you're a less-than-discerning reader. (I did have the article sorted out and in my blog, then I block-quoted it and it vanished. I'm out of time now so you're just getting a link, thank you Blogger.)

Fourth Estate Sale

The stuff I write

A couple of readers in the comments asked where other things I write might be found.

Most of my columns published in The Fincastle Herald or sister publications are not online. These published pieces read more like what you're reading in my blog (and sometimes a blog entry serves as a first draft). I write a lifestyle column about, well, life. I write about my wild animals and things that are happening. It is always upbeat, unlike my blog, because I don't get too personal it in or discuss my health issues.

This week I wrote about voting, for example, and urged everyone to vote regardless of party. I also explained one of the Virginia Constitution amendments because it is unclear (Not the marriage one, the third one. It has to do with superfund clean-up sites, only you would never know that if I hadn't told you). But that column will not be online.

I cover the government for the newspaper and write features. This is boring reading unless you live here. I have written for other publications too and I put a few of the more interesting articles on my sidebar for anyone who is interested.

I also write book reviews for The Roanoke Times. Unbenownst to me, one of these has found its way to other places. This recent review of a Sarah Strohmeyer's "The Cinderella Pact" has been picked up by at least two radio stations. You can read the review online here and here. (It's the same in both places.) I had no idea this had happened until I did a search on myself to see what else I might link to for this blog post.

I hope I wasn't ridiculed on the air, but otherwise I think that's kind of cool.

You can find the articles I wrote for The Herald in this week's paper here:

Speed limit on US 460 could go from 55 mph to 60 mph, back to 55, then to 60, back to 55
Supervisors don't like the idea

Supervisors want to take TNDs, PUDs out of zoning ordinance
Two of the county's most controversial land used districts could be taken off the table after public hearings this month.

Cauley asks council to pursue Troutville library after she steps down
Judith Cauley, one of two council members of the Troutville Town Council who has served more than two terms, is resigning effective January 1. She made the announcement during council's regular monthly meeting on October 18.

As you can see, they are just local government news stories. But I really like writing them.

A beautiful day

The sun is shining brilliantly and making the golden leaves of the oak trees and poplars glow maddly as the breeze makes them dance.

I did not sleep well last night. Every time I moved (or my husband moved) I felt sick because the issue with my ear and vertigo has returned. It made for a long night. I finally got up at 5:30 a.m.

I ate some saltines to try to settle my stomach and took a Zyrtec and some belladonna. I thought to myself that I should take a sick day.

Usually I don't take sick days. Usually what I try to do is push myself on through a day. Ultimately I end up accomplishing next to nothing and only feeling frustrated when I do that. But I do it anyway because I have some weird work ethic that says I should not ever take time to just BE.

I have a friend with this same weird work ethic. We were supposed to have lunch today but she cancelled because she was afraid to leave her office unattended for an hour in order to eat. (I am afraid I was a little snippy with her and I never even got to tell her I wasn't feeling well because apparently someone came in and interrupted our conversation and she hung up. Yikes. Let me bang my head against my desk here for a moment . . . )

I find this kind of work-at-all-costs thing unacceptable, but then I do it myself. I suppose that is why I find it so frustrating when other people don't take care of themselves either.

Unfortunately this way of dealing with my health sometimes ends up with me working and working until I collapse with some kind of major illness that leaves me bedridden for days.

So I thought I'd take a sick day. First, though, I had to come in here and check my e-mail. There was something in my husband's e-mail that he needed to take care of, so I took care of that for him at his instruction. He left for the firehouse at his usual 6:30 a.m.

As the house grew quiet, I thought, I really need to find some paperwork pertaining to the rental property. This kind of search is always a chore. That's because my filing system is nonexistent. I know what room of the house the stuff is in, and that's about it. I started trying to clean the filing cabinets out back in September, got so far, then abandoned the chore. I am not a very good secretary for myself (though I was a whiz for others when I used to do that sort of thing).

Anyway, I carried a chair into the spare room and sat before the filing cabinets. There were four years of income tax files sitting in the floor, haphazardly. I do not keep this room up very well but I never claimed to be a great housekeeper.

I thought I should just start looking and rearranging as I went.

Two and a half hours and one load of laundry washed later, I realized it was 9:30 a.m. I was still in my robe and house slippers. I had not eaten breakfast. I had cleared out an entire filing cabinet and put away three boxes of files. I had also found what I needed.

This, I thought to myself, is my sick day. I clean out the filing cabinets instead of going back to bed.

What a maroon. Isn't that what Bugs Bunny would say?

And now it's just 11:30 a.m., and I'm all dressed for a lunch date that isn't going to happen, and there is of course always work to do when you're a writer . . .

Bad pictures, cool animals

The weather must be getting ready to change here. This morning I looked out and there was a very nice buck by the oak trees. At least and eight-pointer. Two does were with him.

The rest of this day of animals will be told in reverse, because that's the way the photos came up when I loaded them. . . .



And then I turned around and saw this squirrel!




I looked up as I was working and lo, a flock of turkeys. The yard was nearly black with them. I slipped out the back door and watched them move up through the field toward the oaks. I counted 32 birds. It was the largest flock I'd ever seen. This was about 1:30 p.m.



And then I saw these bluejays out the back door! They were much prettier than this picture. The blue was brilliant against the autumn colors.




After I finished exercising, at about 8 a.m., I stood up from my recumbent bike and startled these deer. They saw my shadow through the door and moved, but they did not go far. I took pictures through the window.

Darned Blogger

I have a lot of photos to show but I can't get them to load.

I will try later.

Hello Folks, I'm Johnny Cash

Last night we watched Walk the Line. This is the story of how Johnny Cash and June Carter, both country music stars, met and sang together and then married and fell in love.

During the movie, my husband remembered how his grandfather would close up the store early every Saturday night so he could rush home to watch The Johnny Cash Show on TV. His grandfather ran a grocery store in Fincastle. My husband spent Saturday nights with his grandparents and then went to church with them on Sunday.

Apparently, Folsom Prison was his grandfather's favorite song. My husband remembered this fondly and with great enthusiasm. He relished this memory and the movie gave him a lot of pleasure because it brought this back to him.

My memory during the movie was of my parents. My father used to play in a Top-40 cover band, back when bands could actually regurgitate Top 40 hits and play them without being penalized by the music copyright police. His band was called Music, Inc. and for a long time it was one of the top bands in the valley. Or so I remember, anyway.

I did not see his band play very much, but sometimes my parents could not get a sitter, or they were playing a family-friendly venue. My brother and I would go and play with other children, then, and I as I got a little older I would sit with the girlfriends and wives of the other band members.

After a time my mother started singing with the band sometimes. My father would call her up on stage for particular songs. "Glen," he'd say into the microphone, "come on up here." My mother's name was Glenda.

My father was not a great singer but he was not bad. He was untrained and his voice strained. He also played guitar, though he wasn't very good at that, either. He could manage well enough, I suppose, but eventually I played much better than he ever thought about. (That was a long time ago, and may not be true anymore.)

What my father did have was a lot of self-importance and ego. He thought he was great and people who think that about themselves seem to impose that perception upon others. I guess you might call that charisma although that seems like a more positive word than the way I interpret this. Of course, I also have issues with my father so my point of view is poisoned.

So my father's stage presence was impenetrable and strong. That alone is a saleable quality, and was even in the 1970s when all of this took place.

My mother also had a decent voice and she was a pretty woman. People used to compare her favorably to a young Elizabeth Taylor. She also had a lot of stage presence but it was because of her beauty, not the aura about her.

I think the first time I realized with certainty that the problems between my parents were not the stuff of nightmares was when I saw my parents together on stage. Growing up I was often told I was imagining things. ("You dreamed your daddy and I fought," or "you dreamed that we threw plates at one another," or "you dreamed there was blood," my mother would tell me firmly in the car the next morning. "It didn't really happen.").

If you have ever listened, really listened, to June Carter and Johnny Cash sing, you'll hear the undertone of two strong-willed people pulling at each other, sometimes even sniping. They use words like "shut your mouth" and call each other names, though polite names.

For me there is an undercurrent of force in many of their songs and I never have any trouble imagining that the Cashes threw plates at one another when they weren't singing together.

So the first time I saw my mother on stage with my father, I was struck by the force of the antagonism between them. He was singing, she was singing, each trading off, and there was an electric current fraying the air between them. And the sang the lyrics like they had personal meaning.

They sang "Jackson," and I knew then that my nightmares were reality as I watched them trading unspoken barbs through the song.

Pondering

In August, I wrote about a house I own.

We rent this out to a couple with children and have for seven years.

It appears they will be leaving before the year ends.

. . .

I know the place isn't much to look at but it is a roof over your head. I have fond memories of the place. I also have bad memories of the place.

I also know that I am not cut out to be a landlord. I angst over it. I don't like it when the rent is late, I hate it when something needs to be fixed and I don't know how to fix it, and I don't like the idea of "strangers" making a mess of something that belongs to me.

. . .

I inherited this property, along with these renters, in 2000 when my mother died. My mother in her will tied up the property so that I cannot get a loan to fix the place up (and I refuse to put a lien on my own home for this place). Nor can I sell this house and its accompanying acreage without a lawyer and probably a judge to untangle the mess she created. All of this is detailed and it has to do with the dysfunctional family in which I grew up. Nothing like crazy people to make a situation weird.

. . .

We will have to do a lot of interior work to fix the place up. Unfortunately I know the renters have had pets indoors . . . and until we get that cleared out, I can't even enter the place to clean it. Most of the early cleaning, anyway, will have to fall on my husband.

Needless to say he is not thrilled with this.

We might try to sell, but that will entail a good bit of angst, too.

I am feeling most despondent about it all.

***This post has been edited from its original.***

And the winner is . . .

November 7 is election day.

We have no local elections. Just federal.

Senate

George Allen (R) v. James Webb (D). There is also an Independent candidate, Glenda Gail Parker, who is affiliated with the Green party.

Parker is a rail advocate and is for term limits. Both in her favor!

She is getting no press. The nasty race is between Allen and Webb. Allen (around here we call him "smiley") is for, well, Republican stuff. Webb is for, well, Republican Lite stuff. Webb is not really a Democrat in my mind. I suspect if Allen weren't already holding the Republican ticket, Webb would be.

I will be voting for Webb or Parker, but I haven't decided between Republican Lite or Sure Loser. Either one will be a vote against Allen. I didn't like him as governor, either. (I have met Allen, of these three.) I would like someone in there who knows how to use his or her brain, although that seems too much to ask these days.

House

The sixth district pits Republican incumbent Bob Goodlatte (who doesn't seem to have a campaign website) against two independents. This is getting zero coverage in our area, and Goodlatte is running an occasional feel-good ad noting all the wonderful things he's done for SW VA.

The independents are Andre D. Perry and Barbara Jean Pryer. I will be voting for one of these two, although I will admit that when Goodlatte first ran I voted for him. However, he has since turned into a true party-liner who stopped thinking after September 11. When I voted for him, he promised to only serve two terms, and then he "changed his mind" and ran again . . . and again (I think). He used to have good ideas when he first ran, too. I think Washington ruined him.

***

As you can see, the choices in these elections are about as exciting as a fart in a hailstorm. If I didn't have a solid record of voting, I wouldn't bother.

Motion Sickness Medicine?

Because I am a news writer, I get a lot of notices. I subscribe to many alert lists because I am always looking for things to write about.

The U.S. government has a lot of lists it will send out with new articles, new finds, new studies, etc.

Today I received my notice from the nimh.gov site. This is the National Institute for Mental Health.

I have long had an interest in mental health issues. I think this is one of the most misundestood areas of humanity. I also think it affects everyone, even those folks who presume themselves normal. I think our mental states are a reflection of our environment, the things we eat, people around us, the air we breathe, and things that are unknown because they occur on planes not available to us (as in having a soul).

Two new scientific studies caught my attention.

The first:

How Strep Triggers Obsessive Compulsive Disorder – New Clues

This study says that the strep virus creates an antibody that them mistakenly acts on a brain enzyme, causing a form of OCD in children.

I found this interesting because I have almost always had some mild form of OCD. I even attribute my nail-biting habit, which comes and goes, to OCD and have at various times thought it was because I wasn't eating something, I was missing some vitamin, or what-have-you. My OCD symptoms also sometimes manifest in checking behavior. I have been known to go back home two or three times to make sure I've turned off various electrical items. I am much better about that than I used to be and it is not a problem, just sometimes an inconvenience. (I also have replaced most of my appliances with things that turn themselves off.)

The second article was this:

NIMH Researchers Discover Medication’s Antidepressant Potential

The story:

A commonly used sedative and motion-sickness treatment shows promise as a fast-acting antidepressant, according to a study conducted by researchers at NIMH. Patients with major depression or bipolar disorder who had predominantly poor prognoses improved dramatically, showing significant decreases in symptoms associated with depression and anxiety almost immediately after being treated
with the medication.

In two studies, NIMH researchers discovered the antidepressant and anti-anxiety efficacy of the medication, scopolamine (Scopace®). Study participants treated with scopolamine showed significant reductions in the severity of their depression and anxiety symptoms shortly after receiving a single intravenous dose. This reduction in symptoms persisted after treatment, which suggests scopolamine may have strong, fast, long-lasting antidepressant and anti-anxiety effects. According to the researchers, patients in the studies tolerated scopolamine well and reported no serious medical adverse outcomes. . . .

Now this intrigued me, because I have motion sickness/dizziness/vertigo stuff. I had never heard of this drug scopolamine for motion sickness and it isn't one that has been prescribed for me. Apparently it is found over-the-counter in England but not in the U.S. It is available here by prescription.

I found this information on the drug:

Scopolamine

Scopolamine is the single most effective antimotion sickness drug, consistently providing more protection than any other single medication in clinical trials.(9) It is particularly useful for intense motion or for patients who are very susceptible to motion sickness remedy.

Scopolamine is a belladonna alkaloid that acts like atropine. . . .

Scopolamine has been shown to be effective in all the classic cases of motion sickness, involving car, air, train, and sea travel, as well as exposure to virtual reality systems.(25) It is currently available for prescription in two forms: a transdermal patch and a low dose tablet. Each dosage form has its respective benefits and disadvantages which warrant consideration when evaluating the needs of any particular patient. . . .

. . . Low dose scopolamine tablets, (Scopace, Hope Pharmaceuticals), are also available. . . .

I am no fan of drugs but I am also not happy feeling sick nearly every time I get in a car. This is not a constant problem but when it occurs it is an issue. When this is acting up, there are days I can't even drive myself, much less ride with someone. Dramamine and related over-the-counter drugs do nothing but put me to sleep, which is fine for long trips but not good if you need to go somewhere and be coherent when you get there.

So this information is useful to me. I am particularly pleased to see the relationship to this drug with Belladonna, as I had already figured out that taking Belladonna at night can keep me from feeling sick in bed. Sometimes when this is acting up, if I turn over, I feel like I'm laying on a ship. The Belladonna works well for that and I think now I should probably take it when I go on trips to see if it will help.

The lives we weave

Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it.

Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

-- Chief Seattle

Do you ever wonder if the path you're on is the correct one? Should you be taking another road, a detour, or venturing straight ahead?

Some days I blunder on, somewhat blindly, running straight into the spider's web that others have laid for me. Usually they are invisible traps. You know the kind. A friend asks you to work on a project. You hesitate, then hesitantly agree, with the caveat that you're very busy, might not have time, and this project must not interfere with the relationship. (In my life, the relationship is always most important.)

Of course something came along, and I was unable to fulfill my end of the bargain. And the friend on the other end of the phone was most unhappy.

Trapped. Webbed. Strung.

Some times I walk right through the webs, oblivious. The strings are on me, catching leaves. I find the remains when I disrobe. Oh, I think. There was something there after all. Ever do that? Realize that those strings you thought might be there really are attached?

The webs are lovely to look at. Intricate, involved, nearly invisible until the dew falls upon the delicate strands so that the light of day can illuminate what was always visible.

It is good to see the visible. Ignorance can make you stuck, make you weak, make you vulnerable.

My path today is that of knowledge and the known. I boldy stride across the day, my vision clear, and the spider webs in my mind tame and quiet.

Tuesday Short Shrift

The Sessler cabin, built circa 1780 lies, as the crow flies, just over the hill in what is called Haymakertown. I am not sure what happened to the Sessler family and how they left this county; there are none in the phone book. The cabin was restored in the 1960s by a couple with a historic bent. They grew old and sold and now I am not sure what has become of this piece of country history. Time passes.

Today was the supervisors' meeting. Nothing much exciting, but as always on these days I had to hurry home at lunch to write up an article. This is deadline pressure, because the paper prints today and the sooner I can get the story in, the better. The story for today was difficult to write as it was a complex subject. I can only hope I pulled it off. Sometimes I do fail.

I finished the story and sent it off into the e-mail void, then had lunch. Now I'm waiting on a phone call. Wait. Wait. Wait. I have many other items "waiting" for my attention, but I thought this would be a good time to blog before I turn my attention elsewhere.

My novel is stalled at page 30. I need to write 10 pages by tomorrow if I am to keep to my 10 page a week self-imposed deadline. Which is to say, I must be in for a very long night since I have two articles due in the morning. They of course will get first dibs since I will be paid for them.

My other project is to create a website. I don't know about what yet. I invested in a site with software that tells you things by analyzing whatever you're interested in and letting you know how much demand there is, how much supply, and how profitable it may be to do a website. I suppose I could say profit be damned and move on and do what I want, but since I don't really know what I want playing with the analyzer software seems prudent for a bit longer.

This goes back to my being a jill-of-all-trades with no niche and no specialty. I write for local newspapers, where's the profit in that? Nowhere! Oy vey.

I must think beyond the cabin in the woods and out towards the cities, the states, the countries.

Mind Game

Nearly every day, a blip of a poem crashes into the front of my skull. I feel it there, burrowing into my mind like a little worm. I try to catch it, only to have it vanish. It leaves a hole, a knowing that there was something worthwhile in those fleeting moments.

This usually occurs when I'm looking at a photo, or reading something eloquent, or am otherwise preoccupied. Long ago I could sit down and write poetry, but I have not done this is so long I don't know that I could do it again if I tried.

I have long held a theory that thoughts are fluid things, moving about the air always, waiting for the right person to capture the notion. That's why electricity was invented in the U.S. and in Europe somewhere at about the same time. Fluid thoughts, captured by the same enigmatic kinds of minds.

So it is with poems and stories, all things creative. The visions and words are there, floating in the air, moving along some current that is open only to the brain. Thus creativity lies within our reach always, if we would but open our minds to snatch it.

It is, of course, the opening that is the problem, and once snatched, the creative thought must be used or it will drift on out. Then it becomes ours to mold and stretch, to blend and sift and move about as we will. But we must hang on to it and do more than a brief acknowledgement. Or blip, out it goes.

The photo is from the 1800s and is a picture of Solitude, a home in Fincastle. I found it while I was sifting through my photo collection, looking for something that reminds me of something else. The something else is long gone now, but I think, if I look hard enough, there might be poetry in such a picture, a vision of a time long gone and nearly lost.

North on the Blue Ridge Parkway

(Click on the pictures for a larger image.)

So yesterday afternoon we took off at 1 p.m. and hit the Blue Ridge Parkway in Blue Ridge. We went north, stopping at nearly overlook, to see the wonderous colors and the beautiful palatte of Mother Nature.

The Parkway was busy with others who had the same thought, and nearly overlook was full. At the Peaks of Otter, it was standing room only and long lines at the restrooms.

A bit of haze kept the distant sites from being as clear as they might have been, but the views were lovely even with that. We spied Buchanan from a distance and spent a long time at the overlooks in Botetourt trying to see if we might figure out where we are and see our farm. I think parts of it are visible from the Parkway because we can see the Peaks. But we were never able to find the farm.

We ventured through Botetourt County, Rockbridge County, and I think parts of Bedford and Amherst, but I'm not sure as I was a little lost. We finally exited in Waynesboro, near Afton Mountain, onto Interstate 64. We ate dinner in Staunton, visiting a very crowded Cracker Barrel off Exit 222. By the time we returned home, it was 9 p.m., close to bedtime for old folks like us!

During the trip, we listened for hours to an audiobook, Phantom, by Terry Goodkind. This is the latest in what my husband and I call "the Richard and Kahlin stories". We have listened to every single one of the books in this fantasy series, beginning with Wizard's First Rule, over the last several years. I think Phantom is number 10.

When I tell you that my husband does not spend time with novels, and in the nearly 23 years we've been married I have never seen him read a book, you will understand why I am always glad he wants to listen to Richard and Kahlin's story. He finds it very exciting and he lauds the author's imagination and attention to detail. Even if the audio books are 23 hours long, he likes the story. (I listen to the whole thing. He listens in snatches and expects me to brief him on where we are in the story, which I gladly do, when we are riding in my car.)

The only downside to our adventure was the return of my ear pain and vertigo when we climbed up into the mountains. The dizziness is with me today, too, and this morning made me ill. But it seems to be somewhat as the day wears on. I don't feel quite so seasick, anyway. I am hoping that this doesn't herald the return of continual night-time symptoms that once plagued me in my sleep, leaving me very disoriented upon awakening. Perhaps it is only a short-term thing that will correct itself soon.

Not a cow

(Fincastle Fall 2006)

I took this picture last week and already it's outdated. It looks like this will be the week for the leaves. The mountains are brilliant with color, when the sun peaks through the clouds enough to showcase all their splendor.

My work load has slammed me. I am quite glad, as it had gotten a little sparse. I redoubled my efforts and took on a two new personal projects, and wouldn't you know it, the work pours in. Now I'm running around like a duck on skates trying to get everything done and stay caught up.

We received a new bull yesterday. He immediately went to work, doing what bulls do best.

I am really glad I am not a cow.

Not little cat's feet

. . . the fog is rising.

(Last words of Emily Dickinson)

We woke to fog this morning so severe that one school locality started classes two hours late.

By 10 a.m., when I headed to Fincastle to take pictures and give a little talk to some Notre Dame students who are receiving a credit for making repairs in an Appalachian community, the sun was brilliant. The day was warm, too.

To my left as I drove I could see the fog bank over Catawba Creek. It looked heavy and cumbersome to me as the air tried to rise. I slowed and eventually turned the car around to go back for a picture.

The college students were young and fresh-faced and a little surprised to see so many McMansions in the Appalachian area they had come to serve. Botetourt is not without its poverty but it is very well hidden. It mostly exists in the back roads and the older homes, shoved away in places with nearly forgotten names. Wildcat Holler. Pattonsburg. Webster. Oriskany. We have a new kind of poverty now, that of people who sell their souls to purchase $500,000 homes that they then can't furnish. I hear the tells of houses with echoes, rooms empty save for the kitchen and a bedroom.

I am not a public speaker and had no notes because this was a relatively sudden invitation. My tongue twisted and I did not tell all I had envisioned saying as my shyness overcame me. But I did convey the depth the history, I think. Or hope. And I spoke about the loss of my husband's family home, which my in-laws had to sell in recent years. I would have loved to have kept the place, but we could not afford the asking price.

The students were also going to Craig County, and my years of writing the newspaper in that county stood me in good stead as I was able to answer questions about that area. They were particularly interested in the vast amounts of public lands in both Botetourt and Craig. Craig in particular, with over 50 percent of its land mass held by the federal government.

What seems unknown to most people is that the forested lands are not virgin timber, left in pristine condition from times long forgotten, but instead are the results of growth allowed since the 1920s and 1930s. Prior to that, timber barons had moved in and taken the trees, iron ore and other natural resources in great swaths. They left behind paths of destruction and small communities such as Lignite that no longer exist.

Change. It is as inevitable as the rising fog and just as veiled. Blink and things are no more as they once were, for time moves on, creeping forward slowly, like a lazy cloud bending down to touch the ground.

On patience

~If I have ever made any valuable discoveries, it has been owing more to patient attention, than to any other talent.~

Isaac Newton, English mathematician & physicist (1642 - 1727)

Writing a long work is a study in patience. This is probably why I have not been very successful at getting beyond page 20 or so in an evolving story. I want it done now and I haven't much patience for the process.

In the last year, though, I've taken on some longer projects, such as book editing and writing articles that won't see the light of day for six months after submittal. So I think I am trying to learn patience in my (ahem) old age. Not that 43 is old. . . .

So now, 30 pages later, (7,500 words, I have a long way to go), I am still writing on this novel that I've been slowly eeking out for three weeks. Nobody likes the beginning, but I keep gritting my teeth and saying to myself, it's a first draft, you can rewrite that part after you figure out where the book is going.

And I've picked up another project that is quite involved. It is a learning process and I keep telling myself that it'll work out in the end. But the end is months away, and for a woman of little patience, that is a very long time indeed.

Monday

I'm up to page 26 on my novel.

I have been in meetings today, and am on my way to another. I have meetings every day this week.

Tonight I have a meeting in the Buchanan Theater, which I honestly haven't been in, ever. I am not sure why that is. Maybe because I don't go to movies.

The air has a nice bite to it. Autumn is definitely here. I am glad, as it is my favorite time of the year.

An empty vessel?

Fincastle Methodist Church 2006

Godwin Cemetery

This will be introspective. I have things weighing on my mind.

I have never had a passion for anything, well, except my husband. I do not have a "hobby" that I can't live without (unless you count writing, which is my work). I don't knit or crochet, though I have done both. I have four guitars which I play about three times a year. I used to be passionate about guitar playing, but life and circumstances drilled that out of me completely.

I enjoy taking pictures. I used to write a lot of poetry but seldom do that anymore. I have trouble completing long-term projects as evidenced by the several novels in the drawer that will never see the light of day.

I know a lot about many things. I am the jack-of-all-trades, the non-specialist who can whip out an article on just about any topic, given a little time and research. But I have no specialty niche. I am not passionate about medicine or health care, or alternative care, although I think that is much better for a person than the present business health care model; I do love to read. I make time for books and for reading.

But I wouldn't call reading the words of others a passion. Not really.

I like to drive but I am not passionate about it. I will gladly hand over the wheel in heavy traffic. I enjoy cuddling and being affectionate. I like having friends. I like stimulating conversation. I will argue local politics and I know a tremendous amount about local government. I can cite the Virginia Freedom of Information Act in my sleep. I enjoy college courses and I enjoy learning new things.

I can't draw for anything, though I took art classes in college. I like children but not so much that I want to spend a great deal of time with them these days; I am not passionate about religion.

Today it strikes me that there is nothing to me, nothing that defines me, nothing that someone sees and says "Oh, that's like what A. would do." Well, maybe my columns and articles. Someone might read a similar column and say, "Oh, that's like what A. would write."

I am kind of saddened to realize that I am 43 years old and have nothing that defines me. I also suspect I am looking at this through glasses that are colored very dark today, but I am not sure how to change the lenses.

After all, I am not a bad person, or mean, or angry. I try to be nice and helpful and generous and caring and loving. All I really want out of life is quiet, good health and enough money to keep the bills paid up. I don't ask for much, do I? Maybe I do.

I wonder if there is a way to become passionate about something, a way to be more than empty vessel who responds to the days as they come.

In and done

(Fincastle Fall 2006: watercolor filter)

This has been a nice, if quiet, day. I did housework then spent the afternoon with my husband. We went by the funeral home, which was sad. One of our friends died and that is never good.

Abe was an old man, in his late 70s. He used to live not far from where I grew up but then he moved his family to "downtown" Fincastle. When I was a staff writer for the Herald back in 1985, Abe worked the sidelines for the football team. He ran the chain up and down the field to measure the downs.

As the photographer for the paper, I trailed along after him, camera in hand. I am fairly sure Abe kept me from being trampled more than once.

After we paid our respects, we visited my Aunt Susie. Susie is 86 years old. She still lives alone. Today she was in a good mood and I didn't mind at all the time we spent with her (sometimes she is rather ill-tempered and quite unpleasant to be around). I took her a half-bushel of golden delicious apples. She loves apples and eats one every day. She told me that she grew up with Abe's wife, Helen, which I never knew. What a small world, eh?

Then it was off to brave the crowd at Sam's Club for water and chewing tobacco (not for me, for the husband), then over to Staples for office supples. Target for new sunglasses for husband, and then to Harvest House for the best seafood at the best prices in the valley.

We stopped at the in-laws for a few moments and day is now done.

I had thought to work but it is Saturday night and I'm tired. I have a book beckoning and I think I shall simply go read.

Friday update

(Fincastle Fall 2005 Watercolor Filter)

My plans for the day have been knocked askew. I have to cover a special supervisors' meeting at 1 p.m. I hadn't planned on that and am not even dressed for it, as today was to be a blue jeans and t-shirt kind of day. Now I'll have to put on a bra, darn it.

But it's a beautiful day so I will also take shots of Fincastle, like the one above. I really enjoy shooting outdoor pictures. I am not much on people but I do like landscapes and buildings.

Husband is off searching for a new bull for our cattle herd. Our bull went lame and we had to sell him at the stockyard. We have at least five cows who are in need of a new partner so it's getting imperative that we find this animal soon. Unfortunately it will be rather expensive as bulls are not cheap, particularly if they are registered. (*As I was writing this entry, he called and said we have a new bull: $1,800. He'll be delivered next week. The bull likes donuts.)

I've been so busy working on articles that I haven't had time to investigate a few other things I've been wanting to see about, mostly involving websites and learning html. I have also been working on a novel and I'm on page 20 (5,700+ words). One of my readers told me yesterday they don't really like it, which was a disappointment, but I will certainly take her concerns seriously. However it is very early in the game and it is a first draft so I am not overly upset about it. I know I will be making changes.

Today I feel confident about the future and feel assured that things will work out okay. I don't often feel like this so I am glad that I do. I tend to worry but today I am free of that. I am not sure why but I would like to be free of it more often!

Yesterday and the day before a flock of turkeys wandered around the house. At one point I counted 16. They were in the front yard, but I didn't take a picture as my camera was in the car.

Speaking of cameras, I have been in the market for a new digital. I have a Nikon Coolpix but I want something with more megapixels and a better zoom. I was looking at SLR cameras, particularly the Nikon D50, but I ended up using the money I was saving for a camera to pay medical bills. The Nikon was about $800+, and I would still need a good zoom lens, I suspect.

Some of the digitals have 12X zooms and over 6 megapixels, and aren't quite so expensive. If anyone has any recommendations, I'd be obliged.

Commercialism and Journalism

While looking for something else today, I found this:

There is no such thing is America as an independent press. I am paid for keeping honest opinions out of the paper I am connected with. If I should allow honest opinions to be printed in one issue of my paper, before twenty-four hours my occupation, like Othello's, would be gone. The business of a New York journalist is to distort the truth, to lie outright, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the foot of Mammon, and to sell his country and his race for his daily bread. We are the tools or vassals of the rich men behind the scenes. Our time, our talents, our lives, our possibilities, are all the property of other men. We are intellectual prostitutes.

This comes from Commercialism and Journalism, by Hamilton Holt, 1909. I found it on the Google Book Search pages.

Wasn't that just after the period of yellow journalism? Did we ever exit from that, or is the new millennium just echoing the past?

I was taken with how little things have changed in 100 years. It is as it has always been, it appears. But is it all intentional? I know it isn't on my part. However, I think the public cannot comprehend how much information gets left out of an article. There's only so much you can do with 500 words, after all, but readers expect miracles.

Why doesn't the public participate more in the governmental process? It would make such a difference, regardless of the news. Then they wouldn't be so reliant on the press as the conduit. In their absence, here I am, trying to make governmental officials adhere to FOIA (Freedom of Information Act) at every turn.

How sad that we've moved forward so very little.

The gods must be crazy

A Mr. Pibb bottle, hidden in the woods

I have a cold. I am 95 percent sure it's a cold and not allergies because (1) I have been taking Zyrtec and Singulair for allergies since August 10, in anticipation of the goldenrod and ragweed blooms and (2) my husband has a cold and he is not very good at keeping his germs to himself.

The allergy drugs are expensive, and I want to stop taking them. However, when my allergies flair up, so does my vertigo. I find it hard to function when I can't stand up straight and feel sick from the room spinning.

That makes it hard to stop taking the drugs. So far acupuncture hasn't been able to help this.

With this cold, the vertigo has returned in spite of the drugs. I woke several times in the night because I forgot and turned over. Each turn made the bed feel like I'd fallen into a small rowboat in the midst of a semi-calm sea. It has been worse but it is not a very good experience.

At least now I know the vertigo likely won't stay with me forever. That is a comfort. But it also makes it difficult to function properly for several hours after I get up, which is not very comforting.

I thought I might try Zicam, which is a homeopathic nasal spray. I have used it in the past and thought it helped. I had to venture out to the bank this morning and while I was out I stopped at Kroger and bought a bottle - $8.99 - and used it in the car.

Of course, on a whim after I returned home I tapped into Google just to see what was said about Zicam, and discovered that the prescription company settled with 340 people who lost their sense of smell, allegedly because they used this.

Sigh.

I try to be a healthy person. I have never been one and have no idea what that feels like, but it is a goal. I eat fairly well these days. My one (one!) bad choice generally is chocolate, and I don't eat that in abundance. I haven't been able to give that up because, well, I went for 10 years without it. Then I found this year I could eat it again and not get a migraine and it's been difficult to go back to being without it. Chocolate is akin to heaven, or something like it.

So what I have given up since I turned 40? Potato chips. Caffeine. Colas, all forms of carbonated water. Pastas, bread, oats, wheat, black pepper, tomato-based sauces, milk, cheeses.

I eat soy, meat (generally chicken and fish, I am not much of a red meat eater, meatloaf notwithstanding), eggs, and green vegetables. Brown rice. Nuts, raisins, trail mix. And chocolate. I drink decaffeinated tea, sometimes with a dollop of honey, and water.

Sometimes I get quite bored with my diet and do something rash, but since I almost always pay for it with an allergy or a stomach ache or heartburn, I don't do that often.

I exercise 40 minutes a day, five days a week.

I do Tai Chi with a couple of tapes.

I take a multi vitamin, vitamins B2, B12, C and E in extra supplements. Magnesium malate (which in conjunction with B2 keeps migraines at bay). Probiotic Acidopholus, and flaxseed oil.

I don't smoke or drink. I do swear.

And all around me - us - are cancer-causing foods, medications with horrid side effects, food with e-coli, molds, pollens, and pollution spewing from smokestacks. There are nuclear bits and pieces in everything we inhale, because we are constantly inhaling the past and the present and the stupidity of governments that have gone before and that still exist today. The air moves all over the world and you and I and Tony Blair breathe it in and exhale it so it can flow along and enter someone else's lungs, maybe a hundred years from now.

We've polluted the water, contaminated the fish, given the animals wasting diseases from too much or too little "management," stripped the food of its nutrients and "reintroduced" synthetic vitamins in the hopes of putting back the very things we took out.

We've analyzed, criticized, synthesized, homogeniezed, pasturized and purified until nothing is as it should be and we wouldn't recognize it if it was.

And then I think that if I don't eat chocolate, I will finally feel better?

Somebody hand me a Hershey Bar.

Early Riser

Books: Tamora Pierce

This morning I finished Wolfspeaker by Tamora Pierce. This is the second in The Immortals series. Book one was called Wild Magic and I read it in January.

These are considered young adult books, but I like them very much. They have good characterization and the escapism is very uplifting. Plus, good wins in the end.

It is always nice to get away from life for a while.

I have the next in the series to read, too. It is called Emperor Mage. I made the purchase to take with me to Williamsburg, but never got around to reading anything other than "Healing heartburn in 30 days." Which of course was not joyous escapism.

For inexplicable reasons, I did not receive The Roanoke Times today. I can't remember the last time I did without a Sunday paper. But maybe that is not a bad thing as instead of reading the paper, I finished reading Wolfspeaker.

I heard from my aunt today. She tells me my uncle, her brother, is angry with me because I wrote a column about the way the retirement home dealt with my grandmother back in September. The first draft of that column came from a blog entry, here. A few drafts later, it became a column.

A number of people have commented on the column. I think the devaluation of the elderly must have touched a nerve.

My uncle seems to be upset because of something he read in the column that isn't there. People do that a lot.

He will just have to get over it.

I've written a couple of articles today. I have one more to do but I want to work on my novel a while, so I think I will leave the article for tomorrow. I should have something to do on a Monday, anyway.

Yesterday I fixed gluten-free meatloaf. Meatloaf generally has bread, crackers or oatmeal mixed in it.

I substituted a cup of Bob's Red Mill Gluten-Free Hot Cereal for the bread. It was quite tasty and I was very happy about that. I have wheat and oat allergies that flares up from time to time, now being one of those times. The last time I made meatloaf I used oats and had a runny nose for a week.

I don't make meatloaf all that often, and I have never made it the same way twice. But it is one of my favorite dishes to cook. Maybe because I can be creative with it. It's hard to spoil meatloaf, however you fix it. I have a base recipe I use and then whatever I have handy gets tossed in.

Learning to cook remains on my to-do list. I can cook, but I can't cook, if you know what I mean. This year I have tried to fix at least one different food I've never cooked before at least one time a month.

Tomorrow I will be fixing winter squash. The recipe calls for butter and brown sugar, so how bad can it be?

A Friday Afternoon

I took the afternoon off and went to the grocery store(s). I wrote all morning and having determined I would meet and exceed deadlines, I decided I had to go shopping.

Mostly this was because we were out of toilet paper. There are many things I can be out of, but this particular item is not one of them. Usually my cabinet runneth over but the price at Kroger has been high in recent weeks, so I'd been holding off, waiting to see if the cost would go down on Angel Soft brand.

It has not. I stopped in Kroger in Daleville and checked. It was $5.99 for a 12-pack double rolled of Angel Soft. It had been $4.59 for that. I bought nothing, having found out what I wished to know.

Then I was off to CVS, to spend more of my cash on out-of-pocket drug expenses ($63.12, thank you very much, ma'am, have a nice day, enjoy your two bottles of pills).

Next stop, Food Lion on Williamson Road. I suppose I should have gone to WalMart but I grit my teeth when I have to go there. So I thought I would try something different.

I was not at all impressed with this Food Lion. I hadn't been in it in about year; I go to the one in Blue Ridge sometimes and it is a nice store. This one leaves a lot to be desired. It is dirty, not well organized, and the produce looked unpurchasable.

The toilet tisse was $2.00 higher, too, for the very same thing Kroger was selling.

So I did not buy toilet paper there.

Next, Nature's Outlet, also on Williamson Road. Again, not my favorite of this chain but servicable. I don't get over to Electric Road much and I like that store better.

I spent quite a bit of time in Nature's Outlet. I decided earlier this week to stop taking all of my acid reflux medicine and try natural remedies. I have been reading and the books indicate it is lack of acid, not too much, that causes the problem. It made sense when I read it, anyway.

To increase the acid, you need to take a number of enzymes. I went to see how much all of this would be.

The answer: very expensive. I opted for pancreatic enzymes, DGL (a licorice that is supposed to help with reflux; I tried some just moments ago and it is pretty nasty tasting, unfortunately), aloe vera juice, which I have been drinking and found helpful, and a "gastric" mixture that includes fennel seed, ginger, slippery elm, and wild yams.

The last mixture I did not go with the intention of buying, but a number of those items are things my acupuncturist has said I need to be eating, so I thought it probably wouldn't hurt me.

All of that was rather expensive ($40.63) and I hope it helps.

Then it was off to Sam's Club, which was crowded even though it has rained all afternoon. I thought that might keep the crowd down, but no. Apparently everyone wanted to get rained on, like me. And everywhere I went, people where hacking and coughing and looking generally run down.

When did we all get so old, I wondered.

In Sam's, I found Quilted Northern Tissue for $1 less than the Angel Soft at Kroger, and that is what I bought. I also bought my husband his chewing tobacco, which I find disgusting but it is his habit. He's a lot healthier than I have ever been so I can't really say a whole lot.

Then it was back to Kroger in Daleville to buy some cheap meat, soy yogurt, and gluten-free waffles. Yum.

The waffles kind of taste like paper mache. Fortunately the pure maple syrup hides that.

By the time I got that stuff home and put away, it was 4:30 p.m.

Day is done.

Goals and Gaols

The stocks at the old courthouse in Williamsburg

Today I visited Craig County. I will be writing over there again for a while. I used to write the entire newspaper there (except for sports) but I left about three years ago.

I was greeted with well, not open arms, but definitely not with stocks.

My work has picked up some and I am pleased about that. I have also started a novel and have written ten pages. I want to do ten pages a week, which ought to be doable. I must force myself to find the time to do that. I have a tendency to put my "paying" work ahead of my fiction and I have to stop that.

The fiction really ought to come first.

I have other goals, too - like writing at least five articles a week. So I am not giving myself much slack. But this has become necessary, at least for now.

And of course I want to write an entry a day in my blog, too.

Goals are good.

Better than gaols, anyway.

The health care numbers

We returned home from vacation to find a number of bills from Carilion.

On August 15, I went to see a physical therapist about my low back pain, per doctor's orders.

Carilion charged $455 for me to spend an hour with a man who said, essentially, "Yeah, you have no muscle strength in either your back or your abdomen." He gave me one exercise and told me to come back.

I have not been back. That is a little steep for an hour with a physical therapist, even if my insurance covered all but $52 of it. I personally think that $52 is about right for that hour. Not $455.

Carilion also charged $1,787.25 for my five-hour visit to the emergency room for chest pains on September 2. The breakdown on this is: observation/trtmt room, $115.50; radiology, $104.50, lab/hematology $57.75; lab chemistry, $400; supplies/imp/graft, $24.75; emergency room, $976.75; EKG/Echo, $108.

My share of this is $251.53. Anthem, my insurance carrier, said that $115.50 of Carilion's total charge was too much, and paid the remainder.

The doctor's bill for overseeing my care in the ER was $265, of which I paid $40, and Anthem said $77.50 was too much.

I have not received additional bills for the lab work nor have I yet received a bill for the stress test I took on September 21. Without insurance, since August 15, I would have had to pay out $2,507.25.

I suppose, on the surface, this makes insurance look like a good thing. But we have paid $4,037.50 ourselves this year so far to the insurance company. This is just for my insurance. My husband's employer pays his share, and that's another $3,010.00. So our insurance company has recieved $7,047.50 from us so far this year.

That $2,507.25 doesn't look so bad when you look at it from that perspective.

But to be fair, we've spent, out of pocket, $2,103.86 for various medical expenses. My records indicate a breakdown of $1,211 paid out of pocket for prescription medicines, and $852 paid out of pocket for doctor visits. I do not know, though, how much Anthem has paid but let's assume it's triple that amount. That would be another $6,311.58.

So we're still coming out ahead with insurance, I suppose, but not by much. We are, I feel, health-care poor.

I really think the health care system in this country leaves a lot to be desired. The doctors know little about true health care; all they know how to do is prescribe a pill. They don't look for cures; they cover up symptoms. And who knows what all of those drugs do to your system.

I am not a politician or a doctor, but it seems to me the patient sure does get lost in all of this, particularly when all that seems to matter are the dollar signs.

25 things about me

I have seen, on various blogs, lists of "things about me". With nothing particularly on my mind this morning, I thought I'd try something like that. I actually find this a scary exercise, being a rather private and reclusive sort of person. This is like standing naked in the rain in Elmwood Park.

But here goes:

Physical things (because this is easiest)

1. I have brown hair.
2. I have hazel eyes. I have been told they look like "cracked ice" and have always found poetry in that particular description.
3. I am 5' 1.5" and frequently round that up to 5' 2".
4. I am overweight but will not say how much. "A lot" about covers it.
5. I have back troubles but mostly ignore it.
6. For some reason my left foot swings out crooked when I walk, giving me a distinct gait.
7. I bite my nails. Sometimes I stop for months at a time but then start back up again for unknown reasons. I think it's a chemical absence.
8. I like my hands better as they age.
9. I wear a size 7W shoe and they are hard to find.
10. I have a huge scar on my chest from a large mole removal. I used to tell my physical education teachers I had heart surgery to get out of gym class.

Other things (not so easy)

11. I think and daydream too much.
12. I believe in a Higher Power but my concepts are not conventional.
13. Writing is my preferred method of communication.
14. I love my husband and depend on him so much it scares me.
15. I miss having the idea of a mother but I don't really miss my real mother.
16. See number 15 and substitute "father" for "mother."
17. I love chocolate. It used to give me migraines but I have found I can eat it now in moderation. I did without it for over 10 years straight and nearly had an or.gas.m the first time I had chocolate after so long without it.
18. I love strawberries but they make my side hurt so I stopped eating them.
19. I wish I could have had children.
20. I am happy I've settled into a good life without children, though.
21. One of my friends and I would like to use the insurance money we get when our husbands die (years and years from now) to travel. We had hoped to go to Egypt to see the pyramids but with the current political climate I think we're rethinking that.
22. When I was a child, I used to see a dinosaur every day on the way to school. It was really a log shaped like a dinosaur. I was disappointed when I couldn't find it again the following year. I guess I outgrew the fantasy.
23. Also as a child, I used to play with the paste you find on things stuck to the back of magazines. I'd roll it between my fingers and call it my "johnnie". I have absolutely no idea why.
24. I still call that paste a "johnnie" but I don't play with it anymore.
25. I used to think I would be somebody. But I have given up on that.

A great time

We had a great time in Williamsburg. What a delight it was to visit the old colonial times and be reminded how far we've come.

Our adventure nearly derailed at the onset. We thought we had made reservations at a motel we'd stayed in in 2003, but something went awry and this was not so.

Unfortunately, the motel we had reservations for was a dump. So we did not stay there. We had a mad dash to find someplace else, a feat made difficult by the fact that William & Mary had a ball game Saturday.

But we were successful, and once that was resolved, we settled in for a peaceful and relaxing couple of days learning about the founding of the country.

We did the Colonial Williamsburg thing on Thursday. I loved the whole thing. I was especially enamoured with the Governor's Palace and its gardens. We walked through the maze of boxwoods and wandered the grounds for quite some time. I enjoyed the reenactors, most of whom are very good at what they do. They certainly helped make the day enjoyable.

Friday we went to Yorktown. This was the most relaxing day. We visited the battlefield and saw where the soldiers from all sides dug in and hoped to survive to fight another day. We also saw the restored home where the British surrendered. We took a driving tour that encompassed a large area and then went to the visitors center. There they had a reenactment of an army camp. The camp doctor was a hoot as he explained the lack of medicinal procedures and how patients had to hope for the best. Thank goodness for wine and moonshine to ease the pain, eh?

We had lunch that day in a restaurant beside the York River. The restaurant did not look like much but it was quite colorful and probably the best meal we had the entire trip.

Saturday we toured Jamestown, and took in the National Park site and the Visitor's Center. I loved the glassblowers the best, I think. What a skill. We have lost so much with industrialization and we'll never get it back. I shudder when I think of all the talent that has been lost to Walmart.

We returned home yesterday, Sunday, after a harrowing checkout that involved nearly $200 more on the motel bill than anticipated. Fortunately we got that taken care of.

My chest did not hurt the entire time I was gone, but it did once I returned, which probably tells me something. I have worked steadily today, writing articles and making phone calls. I hope to start on a new endeavor by the week's end, but we'll have to see.

And in spite of it all, I am, as always, happy to be home.