The visceral scream of a child in major pain is indescribable. We recognize it, even if we haven't heard it before.
I first heard it when my oldest son was five. We were moving, and I was packing up the kitchen. He went outside to play. And then, there was this train whistle of sound as he ran for me, his right arm now W shaped. He had fallen out of a tree, breaking his arm and dislocating the elbow. I was pretty calm. I called the emergency room and told them we would need an orthopedist. I called his dad, in a meeting, asking him to meet us. This was before cell phones, and all calls were long-distance. I mention this because I never dropped a digit.
While we waited for the orthopedist, who of course wasn't contacted till we arrived, I remember my son whispering, " I didn't know my body could break."
But it did, and he recovered.
Yesterday, I picked my granddaughter up from school. She turned nine on Sunday, got a near-perfect report card on Friday (one 88), had her snack, and finished her homework. She said she was going outside, and went out the back door. I didn't worry. There's a tree there she has been climbing all year.
I was going through her binder, checking for news and any other assignments that might be coming up. But the tree had a dead branch and it broke. She fell about eight feet on her back before her head hit the dry, clay soil lawn.
I heard the screams. I didn't recognize them at first. She rushed in, tear-streaked, clutching her head.I checked for blood. None. Checked for broken. None. Pulled her into my lap, holding her tight. She clutched her head. She couldn't tell me what hurt, or where. Except her head, all over. So much pain scared her. It scared me, too.
Later, as the pain in her head subsided, she realized her back hurt, too. I had her take off her shirt and found a scrape on her shoulder. No ribs, no vertabrae, seemed to hurt. Then I called her dad, who was on duty. I put her on the couch, got her some juice, put cartoons on and went outside, where I found the broken branch and realized the fall was only eight feet or so, not higher as I had feared.
Her dad, when he checked her out, found her eye movement jerky, her balance unsteady. She suddenly said she might need to throw up. She didn't, but he called her mother at work, called the doctor, who has started some evening appointments, and coordinated wife, child and his mother meeting at the doctor's office.
I couldn't believe how much better she was an hour later. Her eyes tracked. Her balance was good. Left knee reflex? Not so great, but the rest was good. No diagnosis of concussion. Free to go to school. No restrictions on play. Well, I have some. I'll be discreet. At least, now the trees have leafed out, she will notice the dead branches.
Both of us had a shock, and we need time to recover. Just because it turned out well doesn't mean there wasn't pain and a crisis. She had a lot of pain, We were both very afraid, if only for a short while. So, we will be gentle with ourselves for a day or two.
That's really okay.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Japan Teaches Us All a Lesson
I keep hearing the Japanese are resilient.
Heck, yes,they are. They are the only country to survive two atomic bombs and the aftermath, and then build nuclear reactors. And I admire that, hugely. They have built carefully.
This is not a judgement call. Or a finger, or an agenda. Because I have none beyond my grief that this has happened.
The quake, the tsunami, could not be planned. The country planned, but never for this. Never for this. It is way-beyond imagining. And it happened.
Humans keep thinking we are in charge, and we build, and we proliferate, and then we learn we are NOT in charge, however many fail-safes we institute. Then we get scared.
I sit in the middle of a state prone to turnados, lightning.thunder, floods and fires. NO place on earth is safe.
No place has ever been.
I pray for the people of Japan, their relatives and friends in other places.
I know many have been lost. I hope many more will be reunited.
I don't have to hope US citizens will come forth--whatever we can do, we do. And it keeps us strong.
Heck, yes,they are. They are the only country to survive two atomic bombs and the aftermath, and then build nuclear reactors. And I admire that, hugely. They have built carefully.
This is not a judgement call. Or a finger, or an agenda. Because I have none beyond my grief that this has happened.
The quake, the tsunami, could not be planned. The country planned, but never for this. Never for this. It is way-beyond imagining. And it happened.
Humans keep thinking we are in charge, and we build, and we proliferate, and then we learn we are NOT in charge, however many fail-safes we institute. Then we get scared.
I sit in the middle of a state prone to turnados, lightning.thunder, floods and fires. NO place on earth is safe.
No place has ever been.
I pray for the people of Japan, their relatives and friends in other places.
I know many have been lost. I hope many more will be reunited.
I don't have to hope US citizens will come forth--whatever we can do, we do. And it keeps us strong.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A Largely Unreported Disaster of Sorts
Texas has unimaginable square miles of dry grass and vegetation in the winter. High winds and a single spark can decimate miles and miles in a day or two.
The fires more commonly happen in West Texas and the Panhandle, which are more sparsely populated. The rest of the state also gets the fires, which are more vigorously covered by media when a lot of people in a small area are threatened or affected.
I was surprised when I turned to page 2 in my local paper last Sunday and learned 200,000 people were evacuated in Amarillo on Saturday because of grassfires that totally destroyed 58 homes, damaged others. Live power lines on the ground made it difficult to get emergency aid to the people. One fire burned 45 square miles before it was contained. Lubbock was seriously damaged, too.
The firefighters did well--containing over 75 grass fires in 2-3 days that consumed more than 700,000 acres. One litttle five-year-old girl died in a car crash near Midland when the vehicle she was riding in crashed in the heavy smoke over the highway.
Talking to a woman yesterday, I asked if she knew about the fires. She said she was, primarily because her ears pricked up when fires were mentioned in the Lubbock area and her brother lives there. She said she called and he said he and his were all right. The fire came within five miles, but they were unscathed. Friends on the other side of town, though, had their home burn to the ground. They lost everything.
When something similar happened a few years back, media attention was aroused when the wind continued for several days. Grassland the size of the state of Rhode Island was burned to the ground, including the cattle, sheep and horses therein. Some of the homes destroyed were more than 100 years old.
The winds last week blew for a blessedly short interval. Few Texans paid attention, much less the rest of the country.
Burn bans are now in effect over half the state. Accidental sparks, however, can ignite fires from the most innocuous events. More fires are likely. More high winds are also likely. According to the forecasts, our usual quota of spring rains is unlikely.
I guess, overall, we are still the West. What happens here doesn't get out to the rest of the country necessarily, despite our World Wide Web. It would have been a little dangerous to stand and video the approaching fire and consequent destruction of the family home. Even for a chance to go viral on YouTube. And maybe it wouldn't even have done that.
It makes me wonder what other big events go on that no one knows about, sees, reports or notices. I expect quite a bit, actually.
Huh.
The fires more commonly happen in West Texas and the Panhandle, which are more sparsely populated. The rest of the state also gets the fires, which are more vigorously covered by media when a lot of people in a small area are threatened or affected.
I was surprised when I turned to page 2 in my local paper last Sunday and learned 200,000 people were evacuated in Amarillo on Saturday because of grassfires that totally destroyed 58 homes, damaged others. Live power lines on the ground made it difficult to get emergency aid to the people. One fire burned 45 square miles before it was contained. Lubbock was seriously damaged, too.
The firefighters did well--containing over 75 grass fires in 2-3 days that consumed more than 700,000 acres. One litttle five-year-old girl died in a car crash near Midland when the vehicle she was riding in crashed in the heavy smoke over the highway.
Talking to a woman yesterday, I asked if she knew about the fires. She said she was, primarily because her ears pricked up when fires were mentioned in the Lubbock area and her brother lives there. She said she called and he said he and his were all right. The fire came within five miles, but they were unscathed. Friends on the other side of town, though, had their home burn to the ground. They lost everything.
When something similar happened a few years back, media attention was aroused when the wind continued for several days. Grassland the size of the state of Rhode Island was burned to the ground, including the cattle, sheep and horses therein. Some of the homes destroyed were more than 100 years old.
The winds last week blew for a blessedly short interval. Few Texans paid attention, much less the rest of the country.
Burn bans are now in effect over half the state. Accidental sparks, however, can ignite fires from the most innocuous events. More fires are likely. More high winds are also likely. According to the forecasts, our usual quota of spring rains is unlikely.
I guess, overall, we are still the West. What happens here doesn't get out to the rest of the country necessarily, despite our World Wide Web. It would have been a little dangerous to stand and video the approaching fire and consequent destruction of the family home. Even for a chance to go viral on YouTube. And maybe it wouldn't even have done that.
It makes me wonder what other big events go on that no one knows about, sees, reports or notices. I expect quite a bit, actually.
Huh.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
My Heart Leaps Up When Spring is in the Air
This weekend, my older son and his wife assembled the really pretty wood picnic table they gave me for Christmas, and I planned to celebrate it with an al fresco lunch Monday. A front came in, however, and I know 58 degrees isn't that cold, but there was a stiff north wind. I decided to wimp out for later in the week.
I've always loved picnics. I've always loved eating out of doors. One of the things I loved about visiting in Oregon a couple years ago is the amount of outside eating (minus the fire ants, chiggers and ticks, as well). In New Mexico, (also minus the fire ants, chiggers and ticks) in the heat of the summer, we were 29 minutes from picnics at 5,200 ft.- plus, with trees, cool breezes, meadows and wildflowers. Or we could wait till evening, go to the White Sands, roll down the gypsum hills that look like sand but don't retain the heat, and either barbecue or knosh on fried chicken, potato salad, sliced garden tomatoes, somebody's pie and somebody else's cake or cookies. And cold watermelon. Just spit the seeds in the sand. MMM.
In summers, at the White Sands Monument, fantastic scientists come out mid-week to give free lectures on subjects you have not thought of, grasshopper. And the universe, in your imagination, expands a bit.
Texas in these parts has changeable, unpredictable year-to-year weather October through June. July, August and mostly September are scripted: hot.
Except for breakfast, I won't use my picnic table much this summer. But I can now, and in the fall, and even in contrary days in winter. And I hope using it can be a we as much as possible.
The extreme cold for 3-4 weeks has been followed by an extreme warmup. Just two weeks ago the temperature was in single digits. There was ice. There was snow. With fragile knees, I didn't go next door to my son's family for 10 days. Ice. Long gone.
After 10 days in the 70s, I notice the grass is greening. Oh, dear, the Barrett pear (non-bearing, but so pretty) is budding. Daffodils are budding and blooming. Native Texans muse, "Can the next snowfall be far behind?"
We will get more cold weather, just not in the single digits or teens, if usual. Dogs and cats are shedding. This early warmth must have the peach farmers terrified. One or two more big freezes are almost obligatory. Sigh. I do love me some fresh, local peaches.
Weather patterns are changing all over, some subtly, some overt. The world keeps changing, and we humans continue to be astonished at that. It's funny to me at my age, and thirty years from now, if I am around, it will be even funnier. I hope.
Meanwhile, I have my deck, my picnic table, I am chopping out the unwanted iris and planning to fill the empty space with herbs. Maybe some coreopsis, salvia, marigolds here and there.
Some deck pots to fill for bright and pretty.
We'll see how the farmer's market runs this summer. I like local. I like eating stuff locally in their time so I don't get tired of it and eat the same stuff-inferior-from thousands of miles away.
Like the fruits and vegetables, I want to savor each thing in its time.
Even life is juicier that way.
I've always loved picnics. I've always loved eating out of doors. One of the things I loved about visiting in Oregon a couple years ago is the amount of outside eating (minus the fire ants, chiggers and ticks, as well). In New Mexico, (also minus the fire ants, chiggers and ticks) in the heat of the summer, we were 29 minutes from picnics at 5,200 ft.- plus, with trees, cool breezes, meadows and wildflowers. Or we could wait till evening, go to the White Sands, roll down the gypsum hills that look like sand but don't retain the heat, and either barbecue or knosh on fried chicken, potato salad, sliced garden tomatoes, somebody's pie and somebody else's cake or cookies. And cold watermelon. Just spit the seeds in the sand. MMM.
In summers, at the White Sands Monument, fantastic scientists come out mid-week to give free lectures on subjects you have not thought of, grasshopper. And the universe, in your imagination, expands a bit.
Texas in these parts has changeable, unpredictable year-to-year weather October through June. July, August and mostly September are scripted: hot.
Except for breakfast, I won't use my picnic table much this summer. But I can now, and in the fall, and even in contrary days in winter. And I hope using it can be a we as much as possible.
The extreme cold for 3-4 weeks has been followed by an extreme warmup. Just two weeks ago the temperature was in single digits. There was ice. There was snow. With fragile knees, I didn't go next door to my son's family for 10 days. Ice. Long gone.
After 10 days in the 70s, I notice the grass is greening. Oh, dear, the Barrett pear (non-bearing, but so pretty) is budding. Daffodils are budding and blooming. Native Texans muse, "Can the next snowfall be far behind?"
We will get more cold weather, just not in the single digits or teens, if usual. Dogs and cats are shedding. This early warmth must have the peach farmers terrified. One or two more big freezes are almost obligatory. Sigh. I do love me some fresh, local peaches.
Weather patterns are changing all over, some subtly, some overt. The world keeps changing, and we humans continue to be astonished at that. It's funny to me at my age, and thirty years from now, if I am around, it will be even funnier. I hope.
Meanwhile, I have my deck, my picnic table, I am chopping out the unwanted iris and planning to fill the empty space with herbs. Maybe some coreopsis, salvia, marigolds here and there.
Some deck pots to fill for bright and pretty.
We'll see how the farmer's market runs this summer. I like local. I like eating stuff locally in their time so I don't get tired of it and eat the same stuff-inferior-from thousands of miles away.
Like the fruits and vegetables, I want to savor each thing in its time.
Even life is juicier that way.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Make Room Under the Bridges-Legislature is in Session
The weather is gorgeous. Kids were out of school yesterday and wearing shorts. Last Thursday, morning temperature was 7 degrees. This morning, the low was 56.
When I went into my exercise place yesterday, I counted 15 people. Usually there are 3-6. Rest of the week will be the same. I will get out and start gardening some. Take some aggression out on iris rhizomes.
There is a lot of aggression to vent. And exercise, the smell of honest dirt and real plants will help. I write this blog as a discipline in a way. I try not to whine or point out the ugly or mean unless deeply moved, not just entertained. I do that because I can easily be negative. And when I am positive, my day not only is happier, but I get more done. I try to pay attention, though, and that's why I need to go outside and dig.
Texas undoubtedly is going to lay off a lot of teachers. How many remains to be seen. Classrooms will be larger. College tuitions are going up. The state has floated a balloon that would close 113 nursing homes that take Medicaid, by refusing to pay. Where are these people supposed to go? Will we eliminate CHIPS? The sickening thing is, this debacle is due in large part to the way previous legislators have handled the money. Other states are facing the same. Some more than others.
Lately it has been driven home to me that as we huddle under our various umbrellas with others of our shared viewpoints, it is awfully easy to dislike those with different beliefs. And sometimes I do. When the truth is so absolutely crystal clear to me, how can a friend or acquaintance have a belief that is so patently, obviously wrong? What universe are they in? Idio---oops. I just broke my own rule.
Don't they see? Well, yes, but something different than I'm looking at. Sometimes they haven't seen my picture. Sometimes I haven't seen what they are seeing, either. Too often, though, I think too many are "members of the club" who give their fellow members a free pass without looking too closely. They've been to too many pep rallies.
If I go outside and dig, I can be my ownself. I can get something done and improve my mood. I won't snap at little children or argue with some of those idio--oops--I still call friends. Or at least good citizens most of the time. I can think of something positive I can do about this. Because that's enough. I've got to do something. Something positive.
I can give thanks for a beautiful day I've wasted in fuming. And dig in.
Hmm. I won't even take my cell phone.
When I went into my exercise place yesterday, I counted 15 people. Usually there are 3-6. Rest of the week will be the same. I will get out and start gardening some. Take some aggression out on iris rhizomes.
There is a lot of aggression to vent. And exercise, the smell of honest dirt and real plants will help. I write this blog as a discipline in a way. I try not to whine or point out the ugly or mean unless deeply moved, not just entertained. I do that because I can easily be negative. And when I am positive, my day not only is happier, but I get more done. I try to pay attention, though, and that's why I need to go outside and dig.
Texas undoubtedly is going to lay off a lot of teachers. How many remains to be seen. Classrooms will be larger. College tuitions are going up. The state has floated a balloon that would close 113 nursing homes that take Medicaid, by refusing to pay. Where are these people supposed to go? Will we eliminate CHIPS? The sickening thing is, this debacle is due in large part to the way previous legislators have handled the money. Other states are facing the same. Some more than others.
Lately it has been driven home to me that as we huddle under our various umbrellas with others of our shared viewpoints, it is awfully easy to dislike those with different beliefs. And sometimes I do. When the truth is so absolutely crystal clear to me, how can a friend or acquaintance have a belief that is so patently, obviously wrong? What universe are they in? Idio---oops. I just broke my own rule.
Don't they see? Well, yes, but something different than I'm looking at. Sometimes they haven't seen my picture. Sometimes I haven't seen what they are seeing, either. Too often, though, I think too many are "members of the club" who give their fellow members a free pass without looking too closely. They've been to too many pep rallies.
If I go outside and dig, I can be my ownself. I can get something done and improve my mood. I won't snap at little children or argue with some of those idio--oops--I still call friends. Or at least good citizens most of the time. I can think of something positive I can do about this. Because that's enough. I've got to do something. Something positive.
I can give thanks for a beautiful day I've wasted in fuming. And dig in.
Hmm. I won't even take my cell phone.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
My Heart goes out
Valentine's Day.
My granddaughters will celebrate Friday, if school is open, and be off on the actual holiday.
Third-grader granddaughter took home my colored construction paper, my pink and red tissue paper, her crayons and a box suitable for cards last week when the last ice storm approached.
The teacher will give a prize for the best decorated box. My granddaughter completed hers with her very artistic mom, and I presume has delivered it this week. Every kid in her class will put in a card in every other kid's box in her classroom.
Right now, in my neighborhood, in this time, homemade cards are an item. She wants to make all her cards herself. No boughten ones. Her sister in middle school is also working on cards to give some friends. And this makes me smile.
When I was a child, I understood Valentine's Day was romantic, and also about love, because my parents included me. It also was about mutual giving, because I remember my mother taking me to the store to find Valentine cards for her, and for Dad.And she picked her own. Not so many to choose from, for the man, back then. But Mom thought the romance was equal. Reciprocated. Mutual. And included the child they had made.
So on Valentine's Day, at breakfast, I always had cards from both. And heart-shaped redhots from Dad and usually a lace or embroidered handkerchief I would never, ever use, from Mom.
I think I used one at my wedding. Which made Mother smile. She had planned this.
Mom got chocolates. And yes, I was a little jealous. I loved chocolate even then. Mom would always give me a piece, though. Right there! At breakfast!
Unlike many men, my father loved Valentine's Day. Maybe it was the generation. Those old-timers didn't need biz or ads, or promotion. Dad just said St. Valentine made a special day to announce his love, and any time he could, he would. And Mom would smile at him...
I grew up in that.
Wasn't I lucky?
I was going to talk more about the holidays of my youth, but I think I will save it for another year.
There are so many good stories to tell. And again, aren't I lucky?
My granddaughters will celebrate Friday, if school is open, and be off on the actual holiday.
Third-grader granddaughter took home my colored construction paper, my pink and red tissue paper, her crayons and a box suitable for cards last week when the last ice storm approached.
The teacher will give a prize for the best decorated box. My granddaughter completed hers with her very artistic mom, and I presume has delivered it this week. Every kid in her class will put in a card in every other kid's box in her classroom.
Right now, in my neighborhood, in this time, homemade cards are an item. She wants to make all her cards herself. No boughten ones. Her sister in middle school is also working on cards to give some friends. And this makes me smile.
When I was a child, I understood Valentine's Day was romantic, and also about love, because my parents included me. It also was about mutual giving, because I remember my mother taking me to the store to find Valentine cards for her, and for Dad.And she picked her own. Not so many to choose from, for the man, back then. But Mom thought the romance was equal. Reciprocated. Mutual. And included the child they had made.
So on Valentine's Day, at breakfast, I always had cards from both. And heart-shaped redhots from Dad and usually a lace or embroidered handkerchief I would never, ever use, from Mom.
I think I used one at my wedding. Which made Mother smile. She had planned this.
Mom got chocolates. And yes, I was a little jealous. I loved chocolate even then. Mom would always give me a piece, though. Right there! At breakfast!
Unlike many men, my father loved Valentine's Day. Maybe it was the generation. Those old-timers didn't need biz or ads, or promotion. Dad just said St. Valentine made a special day to announce his love, and any time he could, he would. And Mom would smile at him...
I grew up in that.
Wasn't I lucky?
I was going to talk more about the holidays of my youth, but I think I will save it for another year.
There are so many good stories to tell. And again, aren't I lucky?
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Someday, grasshopper, this will end
Blech. The light dusting of snow predicted for Friday turned into several inches of the stuff.
Surrounding areas sent another 49 snowplows. I've never SEEN a snowplow in D-FW.
Stir-crazy folk, thinking snow would be easier to drive on--it is--ventured out, only to quickly meet the thick ice beneath. Cars performed like a motorized session of Dancing With the Stars.
The overnight snow was thick enough to cover streets, curbs, medians--impossible to tell where the road was. Businesses desperate to get back on schedule insisted a lot of their employees come in, and a fair number actually made it.
Director of the Denton airport got a guy with a jet engine to blast chunks of ice rapidly off the runways. We have Super Bowl patrons, coming in, dammit. And so the can-do people made it possible. Clearing the runways in this peripheral metroplex airports means a place for corporate private jets and prop planes to land.
Ice chunks were reported in the Trinity River. Never seen THAT before, either.
We are tired of this. We have more "winter precip" coming in Tuesday or Wednesday.
I am really impressed with the truckers who have brought the groceries and goods in. Yes, they get paid. For that much aggravation? I don't think so. They know they are depended on. And they deliver.
Seems like as many freight trains have gone by as usual, at the usual speeds. How does that work? Ice and snow have hit the rails, too. But the trains keep moving.
It has been interesting. I've seen a lot of individuals being kind to one another this week. I was one of the recipients. Seems I was a little overconfident about my ability to handle a skid. When I got stuck, an older woman, her daughter, and son-in-law got out and pushed me the necessary inches to reach traction. I felt so helpless, and so grateful. People really do stuff like that, all the time.
I didn't venture out yesterday. Today--I'll see.
It's already 29--highest temp in six days. (sob) We may even break freezing.
One thing I know--there was money to be made this week in the Metroplex. We just didn't think so much of it would be going to the auto body shops.
Surrounding areas sent another 49 snowplows. I've never SEEN a snowplow in D-FW.
Stir-crazy folk, thinking snow would be easier to drive on--it is--ventured out, only to quickly meet the thick ice beneath. Cars performed like a motorized session of Dancing With the Stars.
The overnight snow was thick enough to cover streets, curbs, medians--impossible to tell where the road was. Businesses desperate to get back on schedule insisted a lot of their employees come in, and a fair number actually made it.
Director of the Denton airport got a guy with a jet engine to blast chunks of ice rapidly off the runways. We have Super Bowl patrons, coming in, dammit. And so the can-do people made it possible. Clearing the runways in this peripheral metroplex airports means a place for corporate private jets and prop planes to land.
Ice chunks were reported in the Trinity River. Never seen THAT before, either.
We are tired of this. We have more "winter precip" coming in Tuesday or Wednesday.
I am really impressed with the truckers who have brought the groceries and goods in. Yes, they get paid. For that much aggravation? I don't think so. They know they are depended on. And they deliver.
Seems like as many freight trains have gone by as usual, at the usual speeds. How does that work? Ice and snow have hit the rails, too. But the trains keep moving.
It has been interesting. I've seen a lot of individuals being kind to one another this week. I was one of the recipients. Seems I was a little overconfident about my ability to handle a skid. When I got stuck, an older woman, her daughter, and son-in-law got out and pushed me the necessary inches to reach traction. I felt so helpless, and so grateful. People really do stuff like that, all the time.
I didn't venture out yesterday. Today--I'll see.
It's already 29--highest temp in six days. (sob) We may even break freezing.
One thing I know--there was money to be made this week in the Metroplex. We just didn't think so much of it would be going to the auto body shops.
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