Big Spring Park

Welcome to Big Spring Park in Fincastle.



This little park is the site of many weddings and other events. During the week, it is mostly empty, though.



There are a couple of memorials in the park. The above is for September 11. A few stone benches in the park have the names of Big Spring Garden Club members who have passed on.



When I was in elementary school, which was a long time ago in the 1970s, we'd troop down to Big Spring Park for our end-of-year picnic. The park is within walking distance of Breckinridge Elementary School. I thought then that it was the greatest park in the world.



The park is also next to Fincastle Presbyterian Church. The cemetery holds the remains of a number of Botetourt County Revolutionary War heroes.

It Just Needs a Wind

Three Bucks

On Tuesday morning I looked out the front door to see:



Thankfully we own this and there will be no logging there. Of course deer need a large habitat and without the oak trees and their acorns they probably will have no reason to frequent my field.



They stood up as my husband left for work on his motorcycle. As he ventured down the driveway, they were joined by a buddy:



Four bucks. The last one was the nicest; I think he was an eight-pointer.

MIL Update

Thank you all for the good thoughts and prayers about my mother-in-law and her poor broken hip.

She has been moved to a rehab facility and seems to be resting comfortably. I don't know how long she will be there - as long as it takes, I suppose. Her prognosis is good.

Unless something happens I likely won't post about her again until she comes home. For now she is doing well and hopefully that will continue.

When a Tree Falls...

I last wrote in late June about the logging efforts on the property next to ours.

I could have written about it nearly every day but it was my own personal angst, mine and my husband's. We have watched the forest dwindle as the logger, who initially was only going to cut out trees for lumber, moved to clear cutting.

Despite the fact that this is family land, it's not in our control and we could not stop this.

Below was the view out of my office window. I saw this every morning for the last 21 years.

This morning about 7:10 a.m. as I finished up an email, I glanced up and saw this:



At the very base of one of the trees stands the a*sholes, er, loggers. I immediately began to cry when I saw them. We had been told these trees likely wouldn't be taken away for $50 a tree pulp wood but...















I cried the whole time I shot these pictures, and felt the thump as the tree landed. It felt like my soul had been wrenched from me and I could feel the earth weeping.





This is what it looks like as I write this (with tears in my eyes and my heart just falling from my chest). I guess tomorrow the view will be completely different.

Damn, I loved those trees.

Summer Sunset

Books: Morrigan's Cross

Morrigan's Cross
By Nora Roberts
Audio Book, 6 hours
Read by Dick Hill
Copyright 2006

This is the first book in the Circle Trilogy by Nora Roberts. I picked it up not because of the author but because of the reader. Dick Hill always does a fabulous job in his book reads.

The book turned out to be much better than I anticipated and I will get the next in the series.

Hoyt is a sorcerer in 12th century Ireland. His brother, Cian, becomes a vampire. The goddess Morrigan charges Hoyt with the task of stopping the queen vampire, Lilith, from taking over the world on Samhain in the land of Geall.

The kicker? It's in modern day times, not the 12th century, so the goddess sends the sorcerer through time to his brother's house. Cian, a vampire who has decided to forgo drinking the blood of humans and instead focus on commerce, agrees to help.

Glenna Ward is a witch who joins the circle of six that is set to stop this apocalypse. Along the way the others join up, Larkin and Moria, from Geall, a magical land not on any map, and finally Blair Murphy (think Buffy the Vampire Slayer).

The book ended with a major battle, with more to come. Having now decided I like the characters, of course I must finish the trilogy!

And Dick Hill did a fantastic job as a reader, as always.

3.5 stars

MIL Update

My mother-in-law, E., had surgery for her broken hip, finally, around 9 p.m. or so last night.

It went well and she was in recovery by midnight. My sister-in-law stayed with her mother last night and everyone else went home for some much-needed rest.

My nephews spent the night with their grandfather. My husband has taken the boys and his dad to Shoney's for an all-boys breakfast this morning. He then plans to take his father to the hospital.

I have deadlines so I am home working. I likely will go up later today to relieve someone or just to visit or whatever I am asked to do. If they think I am better used elsewhere, like doing the in-laws laundry or something, I will do that too. I think things like that will be sorted out better once they have a firmer grip on what is happening, probably later this morning.

My sister-in-law called around 6:30 a.m. and said E. was resting comfortably and eating a little. They will try to get her up to stand on her leg today.

The doctor said he didn't anticipate she would be in a lot of pain, but I don't know how you can have something like that done and *not* have pain.

They will discuss rehabilitation with her later today. We expect she will have to go into a facility for a while, time unknown at this point.

My mother-in-law has scarcely been sick a day since I've known her, other than an occasional headache or a mild cold. She has always enjoyed good health. She is a very quiet and undemanding sort of person and she will worry herself more about my father-in-law, who has heart issues and carries around oxygen tanks, than her own health. She is an old-fashioned lady who caters to his every whim. He will have to get over that, I guess, at least for several months.

Getting old pretty much sucks. It is certainly not something to look forward to and no reward for a life well-lived.

Bad News Sunday

My mother-in-law, who is about 75, fell and broke her hip this morning. Spent all day waiting on a surgeon and an operating room.

Still waiting. Will update when I know more. Prayers, good thoughts, etc. welcomed.

Procrastination...

I am always on time, usually early. I never miss a deadline on my articles.

If I'm supposed to call someone at a certain hour or meet someone at a certain date, I am there.

But when it comes to doing stuff for myself? Fuhgedaboutid.

Time for my short story? Nope, the house needs cleaning.

Time to write a poem? Sorry, have to make a phone call.

Time to work on my article? Oh yes, the editor wants that!

Time to get serious about dieting? I'll do it tomorrow when I have a moment to research it.

Time to do something for the Board I am on? You name it, I'm your lady.

Time to work on your novel? Later, when the sun sets and its cooler...

Any excuse will do, it seems. Time apparently is my number one nemeses.

I have made any number of efforts to tackle my personal projects. Most that I fail at are long-term initiatives, like losing weight and writing anything longer than an article.

I lack a stick-to-it-ness that evades me.

About four weeks ago I received my weekly Marketing Minute newsletter from Marcia Yudkin. She runs a marketing website and apparently works 24/7 on her business.

I am no marketing genius but figure it's something I ought to know, being a writer and all. I read the newsletter looking for ideas that might apply to what I do, which is write little articles for local publications.

Four week ago, Yudkin offered a 10-week weekly email course in procrastination for $20.

On impulse, I signed up for it at about 6 a.m. one Friday morning.

The result has been a series of emails urging me to examine my work habits and figure out what is holding me back.

It took me nearly six days to open the first email. It sat in my box, pulsing and growing larger and larger in my mind until I finally clicked on it. I was putting it off, you understand...

Subsequent emails have lain in my in-box for several days, although not as long as that first one. This behavior alone tells me something. There is something there I am not dealing with, some fear of doing something for myself that keeps me from moving forward.

Don't know what it is yet, but maybe by Week 10 I'll have figured it out.

The email course also comes with unexpected boosters about the middle of the week. This has been helpful, too. Reminders to think about why I procrastinate.

I have never met Marcia Yudkin, who is sending me these prompts. She wrote a book in 1988 called Freelance Writing for Magazines and Newspapers: Breaking In Without Selling Out which I still have. I found it useful at the time. I daresay it's outdated these days, what with the Internet and all, but the basic tenets remain true.

Later when I ran across her name and website somewhere, I remembered the book. Quite a number of years ago I subscribed to her free marketing newsletter.

She finally snagged me again, I guess.

She's published a number of books and on the surface, anyway, appears to have a thriving business. She's into something I'm not really interested in, which is PR, but it's still writing.

Whatever she does, I bet she doesn't procrastinate.

Invasive Health Insurance

In 2006, I developed a number of health issues, one of of which sent me to the ER with chest pains.

My doctor ordered a stress test, which thankfully came back negative. The ol' ticker wasn't the problem, but I was pretty sure of that anyway.

The event triggered an inquiry by my health insurance company, and they stuck me in a Care Program for people with chronic issues. Even though the results were negative.

I admit I am not the healthiest person. I am overweight and I am chemically sensitive. However, no one treats me for chemical sensitivity except my acupuncturist (thank the Creator for Chinese Medicine at this time in my life).

I am pretty sure all of my issues in 2006 had to do with the installation of new carpeting in the bedroom that January, but I can't convince anyone else of that.

At any rate, now I get these aggravatingly invasive phone calls from my health insurance provider on a regular basis. An RN is on the other end.

This person wants to know how I'm doing, what my blood levels are (as if I go to the doctor every three weeks to get that checked; I think not), and if I managing my stress well.

It's a different nurse every time, and each gives you different advice. Each goes into different types of histrionics over my health care condition, as if I am going to drop over dead in the next 30 seconds because I have moderately high cholesterol. Or because I have mild asthma. Or because I'm overweight. Or whatever they happen to pick up on.

Yesterday it was my blood pressure. What is your blood pressure? the lady wanted to know. I have no idea, I said.

Well what was it the last time you had it checked.

I said I didn't know.

Well, what do you think it was?

I threw out a number. 120/90. (I honestly have no idea what it was.)

Oh, that's high. You need to go to the doctor right away (actually, that is not really a high number. I asked my husband the EMT.).

I told you I was making that up, I said. I have no idea what my blood pressure is, and even if by chance it was that when I saw the doctor in March, I HAD THE FLU and don't consider that a good yardstick.

Well, then you should go to Walmart and get your blood pressure checked right away. You need to keep an eye on that and have it done. We'll call back next week for those numbers.

I'm not going to Walmart by then, I said. I live in a rural area. I don't go to Walmart that frequently.

You can't get your blood pressure checked within the next week? She was incredulous.

No.

Well then we'll call your doctor and get your last numbers, the nurse huffed, obviously unhappy at my unwillingness to get in my car that very moment and go have my blood pressure taken.

That's fine, I said.

To top it off, I have told them since they began calling me that I could only talk on Thursdays, and yesterday was THE FIRST TIME they actually called on a Thursday.

Last week one of them called on Tuesday just as I was headed out the door. I actually hung up on her after I told her I couldn't talk and she just kept right on asking questions.

I guess there are people who welcome this constant intrusion on their personal lives, but not me.

I want out of this horribly invasive program. I didn't ask to be in it in the first place and I find it such an invasion of my privacy that if I so much as think it's one of these nurses calling I don't answer the phone. Yesterday I wasn't paying attention when I picked up. Besides, they hadn't been calling on Thursdays!

What I don't know is if I have to be in the damn program or not in order to keep the insurance.

Thursday Thirteen

1. I'm down to my last vehicle payment on my Toyota! But the final bill from my lender ... was very late.

2. For 59 months, no problem. The very last payment, which I knew would be slightly different, and ... no bill.

3. I wondered briefly if it was a scam to ensure I owed more money by not paying on time. Being old fashioned, I still pay by mail.

4. I foxed them and found my statement online and paid it that way, though.

5. The mail service seems very slow these days, but I still think a letter for 42 cents is a good deal.

6. I relish a letter in the mail more than an email. You can't get your hands around an email.

7. Once my mother mailed me a birthday card from Salem, which is about 25 miles away. It reached me three months later.

8. The card had been to Pennsylvania and Ohio, according to marks on it. I don't know why.

9. I can remember when stamps were about 10 cents. I suspect that makes me rather old.

10. Of course I can also remember when gas was 25 cents a gallon and when my parents thought $1 was too much to pay.

11. The rise in postage and the rise in the cost of gasoline are not compatible, are they?

12. I always thought being a mail delivery person would be a good job, if you didn't mind walking or being on your feet.

13. Rural route carriers get to drive around in a vehicle, and that doesn't seem so bad. I imagine they know all kinds of things about my neighbors, don't you?


Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.

BZZZZ

Too Sad

I am too sad to write

when the world is bound

by those who chain

the souls of lovers.

Too blue to cry, even,

when the word comes down

that the days grow shorter

and minutes die, tick tock.

To scared to blink

I only stare at the remains

of dreams I used to know

laughter I thought I heard.

Too sad to write

too blue for tears.

Quiet Grace

Independence Day

These photos were taken on July 4, 2007, at the Town of Fincastle festivities at Breckinridge Elementary School. A similiar event will take place tonight.

Thursday Thirteen: The Bucket List

We watched The Bucket List Saturday night. Nice movie.

Of course it brought up two things: my own bucket list and whether or not I want to be buried or cremated.

On the latter point, I don't think I will be cremated because my husband's family does not do that. When I mentioned it as an option to my husband he informed me he could not do that to me.

But as for a bucket list? Well, I thought I'd see if I could come up with a Thursday Thirteen for that. So here you go, in no particular order:

1. Write a novel and have it published.

2. Write a nonfiction book and have it published.

3. Visit my relatives in California.

4. See Niagara Falls.

5. Do something that helps a lot of people.

6. Invent or discover something that has a great impact upon society.

7. Restore a broken relationship in a manner that would not be detrimental to either one of us.

8. Pray and/or meditate more regularly.

9. Find my true passion. Or acknowledge if I already am doing it!

10. Lose my fear.

11. Learn to dance.

12. Inspire other people.

13. Get close to a person who is younger than I.


Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.

I See You

Books: Confessor

Confessor
By Terry Goodkind
Audiobook read by Sam Tsoutsouvas
Copyright 2007
24 hours of listening!

The last of the Sword of Truth series culminated in much preaching from the author through his characters and a great deal of repetition.

Having listened to all of these books, each of which was exceedingly long, I rate this as the weakest.

Goodkind brought back almost all characters of any importance, contriving ways to add them to the plot.

Richard is a slave along with his beloved Kahlan. Kahlan, the last confessor, has lost her memory and doesn't know who she is. Richard, the Lord Rawl, has lost his gift for magic.

The book goes through many twists and turns to reunite the two and get their powers back. And of course the world will end if the Imperial Order continues its march through the New World and into the People's Palace.

Along the way there were many treatises about being left alone to live your life however you want, and many admonishments about how bad it is to have religion and group think, etc. And look for the solution, don't think about the problem.

While I agree with the advice, I tired of hearing it over and over and over and over and over again. I am not the only one to think this - there are a lot of bad reviews about Goodkind and many of the last books of this entire series at Amazon.

The first book, Wizards First Rule, was excellent. I really liked that book. The series began falling apart about midway through the 11 books it took Goodkind to finish this up. The writing worsened considerably. I have decided that once a writer is established, publishing houses stop applying editorial standards and just ship out whatever the author sends because I have seen so many the writing of many authors turn into crud after a number of books. Maybe it is simply burnout on the author's part but the publishers could have fixed a lot of the problems with this book, as well as previous ones, with good editing.

The best thing about this series is that my husband, who does not read much, became very interested from the very first audiobook, and we have listened to all of these books together. We took them on trips and listened to them driving around town. I think each book was over 20 hours long, so we have been listening to these for literally years.

I think my husband liked the final book better than I did, but he doesn't care so much about good writing as the plot. As he put it, at least Richard won in the end and for him that is what counted.

1.5 stars

Tree Rings

If one can truly tell the age of a tree by the number of rings, then the specimen above was about 81 years old.

It is one of the many being destroyed in what once was a forest behind me.



Apparently counting tree rings has a name: Dendrochronology. If you count the rings you will see that some are wide, some narrow. Apparently this tells about years of drought, etc. It's rather fascinating, although I'd rather have the tree to look at than the stump to examine.

I keep telling myself that the new sunlight upon the forest floor will result in a wealth of different vegetation. Maybe new blackberry bushes or something.

Eighty-one years is not a long time in the life of a tree, but it is longer than the person who instigated the cutting has been alive. The first tree would have been a young 11 years old when that person was born. It would have been slim and willowy and anxious to raise its branches toward the sky.

I would have guessed the tree to be older than 81, which goes to show you can't tell a tree's age by its girth.

In 1927, (81 years ago), the first transatlantic telephone call was made. The U.S. Federal Radio Commission (later the FCC) began to regulate radio frequencies.

The Mississippi flooded (that sounds like today, doesn't it).

Saudi Arabia became an independent country, telling Britain goodbye.

Television was first demonstrated to a mass audience of 600 people.

The Columbia Phonographic Broadcasting System (later CBS) was formed.

The Ford Company unveiled the Model A.

And a little seedling in a field began to sprout, and grow and grow until the chainsaws came.