Mom update

Mom's hearing test revealed that there is fluid in her left ear, and it is causing a large portion of her hearing loss. We are heading back to the doctor on Monday to see what solutions there are to remove the fluid, but we left yesterday with HOPE. Mom has a little more skip to her step, a little bit of a smile on her face. It was a good day.

Please pray for next Monday's appointment. I would love to see Mom's hopes realized and not dashed.

Okay, so maybe you've never wondered

what to call a group of animals, but I have. My college daughter and I got talking about this on the phone yesterday and she found a great resource. And since we have a difficult time hanging up from a phone conversation, we got reading the list and laughing.

Some examples for you:

A gulp of cormorants.
A murder of crows.
Ducks in the water are called a raft.
A convocation of eagles.
A stand of flamingos.
For hawks: A cast, a kettle (if flying), a boil (two or more spiraling in flight).
An exultation of larks.
A parliament of owls (remember Narnia?)
An ostentation of peacocks.
A congregation of plovers.
An unkindness of ravens.
A murmuration of starlings.

A tower of giraffes.
A bloat of Hippopatamuses
A barrel of Monkeys (I kid you not)

And my personal favorite:
An intrustion of cockroaches.

From the website:

If you are interested in derivation of some of these names, or if you just want some fun reading, check out James Lipton's book entitled "An Exaltation of Larks". Birders interested in avian nomenclature should see Bruce Campbell and Elizabeth Lack's "A Dictionary of Birds".

Today...

Thinking about....

Ann's posts about loving fathers (here and here). October 24th, 2001 was the day my father died, and I miss him.

A father's love and presence is a powerful thing, and its absence can leave a gaping hole. I have found God's unbelievable love to be the only thing that can fill that hole. But it fills it beautifully.

Listening to

Songs for fall, recommended on David Kern's blog.

And the sound of extra-large acorns crashing down on the roof. They are loud enough to wake me in the night, and that is no easy task.

Knitting

A warm and comforting shawl for my dear mother. Nature's Choice Organic Cotton in pecan...it's soft, it's beautiful, and the pattern is joyously simple.

I'm also getting prepared to knit socks. I have a terrible time trying new, difficult things, and knitting socks is a mystery to me. But I have a pattern (thanks to Blogless Lynn), I have enough yarn to keep an army warm for the winter, and my knitting mentor is coming home for Thanksgiving; what excuse do I have? None.At.All. Better get started.

Worrying (trying not to, but honesty requires I call it what it is)

About my mother's appointment with the ear/nose/throat doctor. Her hearing loss has been almost complete since this last hospitalization, and she is discouraged to her core. I feel helpless to cheer her, with little ability to communicate with the ease we have always enjoyed. She is alone in her house, alone with her thoughts, unable to hear the world around her. No sound of grandchildren saying good morning, no sound of the cat asking for food, no phone calls or visitors. The sunshine yellow walls of her flat are closing in on her.

We both anticipate that reversing the hearing loss will not be possible. What we wonder is if there is any option to amplify what hearing is left.

Mom is so frail right now, in body and in spirit. I am praying that today's appointment will not be her undoing.

Reading

Margaret Maron mystery stories. Unlike in life, the mysteries all get solved in the end. What a comfort.

Searching for

My camera battery charger. I feel bereft without a camera for these beautiful fall days.

The plan for tomorrow morning

(just in case you are in the neighborhood)

Faith's Frosted Pumpkin Doughnuts

Ingredients:
2 eggs
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, softened
1 cup cooked or canned pumpkin
1 tablespoon lemon juice (very important)
4 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 cup evaporated milk
Oil for deep-fat frying

In a mixing bowl, beat the eggs, sugar and butter together. Add the pumpkin and lemon juice, and mix well. Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Add to pumpkin mixture alternately with milk. Then cover and refrigerate for 2 hours(ish).

Once refrigetated, turn onto a lightly floured surface, and knead 5-6 times. Roll out 3/8-in.(ish) thickness. Cut into donut rounds (I use a large-rimmed glass and a shot glass for the donut hole.)

Heat oil to 375 degrees. Then fry the doughnuts, a few at a time, until golden, turning once. Supposedly the frying time is 3 minutes. Once golden brown and perfect-ish, remove from the oil and drain on paper towels. Let cool for a few minutes before frosting.

I enjoy frosting them with maple frosting, though the most common frosting for pumpkin doughnuts is the orange flavored kind (which is pretty good too), so I'll include that here:

Orange Frosting:
3 cups confectioners' sugar
2 to 3 tablespoons orange juice
1 tablespoon evaporated milk
I teaspoon grated orange peel
--------------------

With thanks, again, to Faith. And to my children, who make sure I only have one.

An invitation to anyone within striking distance of Eugene, Oregon

Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven:
A Walking Tour

A Dramatic Retelling of Dante’s Divine Comedy

On October 30 & 31, Gutenberg College will perform a dramatic retelling of Dante’s classic Divine Comedy. Audience members will descend into hell, climb mount purgatory, and celebrate in heaven with a cast and crew of 40+.
The Comedy will be performed three times on Friday, October 30, and three times on Halloween, Saturday, October 31.
Show times are: 6:00 p.m., 7:15 p.m., and 8:30 p.m.





Tickets
The show is age-appropriate for high-schoolers and up.
Because of limited space and high demand, we expect all performances to sell out. Thus we strongly recommend that you pre-order your tickets with a credit card over the phone.
To order tickets ($7 each, $5 for students), please call the Gutenberg office at 541-683-5141 between 9:00 a.m. and 4:30 p.m.
After you place your order and your credit card is processed, you will receive a receipt via e-mail. Please bring this receipt; it will serve as your ticket to the performance.
All purchases are non-refundable.
Gutenberg College is located at 1883 University Street in Eugene.

William Butler Yeats

Sailing to Byzantium

THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

HT: Daughter in Oregon, with deepest thanks

Henry came to play

Henry showed up in the driveway yesterday morning as I pulled out to drive my son to work. By the time I got home ten minutes later, the littles had named him Bruce and he was making himself at home around the property like a well-loved pet.

He is huge, he gallops, and he is skilled at looking pathetic outside the front door windows. But best of all, he lives down the hill. And his name is Henry. Henry jumped in the car with his true owner, some younger family members wistfully waved good-bye, and I sighed a huge sigh of relief. Some seasons of life do not call for horse-sized dogs loping across the hillsides, not matter how cute they are.

Come back and visit sometime, Henry. Now that we know where you live, we'll be more relaxed and give you dog bones and throw things for you to chase. What fun we will have, now that we know you can go home when we are done.

Wit

If you love language, admire Emma Thompson's incredible acting skills, and don't shy away from the intensity that comes from living and dying, I highly recommend this movie. There are moments of loneliness that are palpable; there are other moments when the poetry weaves its way into the sterile hospital environment that are beautiful. I cannot watch this movie without tears pouring down my face; if I am alone, in fact, I sob. Hard. It is good crying, though. I love this movie.

You can read brilliant friend Carol's thoughts in her review.

I come away from this movie changed. It makes me all the more committed to not being isolated in my own life. When it comes to dying, it is good to have someone who can rub lotion into your hands or can be your advocate when you cannot speak, a friend who knows when it is time for John Donne and when it is time for a children's allegory read aloud. It is good to have that friend, it is good to be that friend. Or that daughter.

John Donne (1572-1631)

Batter my heart, three person'd God (Holy Sonnet 14)


Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy:
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Gerontology practicum

I will not soon forget that Saturday morning, September 26th. I got a phone call from a friend of my mom's saying she had not been able to reach her. I went over to check up on her, and there she was...on the floor. She had not fallen, but her legs had simply given out on her and she had crumpled to the floor. She had no strength to get to the phone, and so she had slept there all night. Her fever was high, her strength was low, and we immediately got her to the hospital. I cannot imagine how frightened she must have been, wondering when we might stop by. We only live twenty steps apart, but Mom has made it very clear that hovering is not an option. She did, however, have some time to think as she was on the floor, and we have changed a few things at her house.

Step one was:

Response Link

Response Link is an emergency response system that is either worn as a pendant around the neck or like a watch on the wrist. If the client falls or is unable to get the help that he/she needs, all they need to do is push the red button and the Response Link operator will answer and talk with the client. They can get information from the client and respond accordingly. If Mom had had a button to push when she collapsed in September, she could have asked them to call us and we would have come running. It is not an automatic call to 911. If so, I think my mom would hesitate to ever push the button. Instead, Response Link knows to call us, at home and on our cell phones, before calling 911.

I will never again chuckle at the "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" commercials (although the "Help, I'm talking and I can't shut up!" t-shirts still make me (and Mom) laugh.) I am thrilled to know that if Mom falls, if Mom is all alone and can't get the help she needs, she will push a button and someone will get her help. What a relief.


Step two was:

Vial of Life

Part of the package we received from Response Link was a Vial of Life sticker and form. The sticker is on her door, alerting any 911 responders to the location of her medical information. Her form (blank shown below) is in a plastic bag on her refrigerator door. I am so glad to know that the information will be available whether I am there or not.

Is there anyone in your life who could benefit from Response Link? Don't wait. Go ahead and get it now. It would be nice to know someone could learn from our experience rather than having to experience it first hand. It is not something I would recommend to anyone, ever!

Seventeen days, a rainbow, and waiting for a song to sing

For seventeen long days my mother was away from us in the hospital. She is home now, she is weak, and she is experiencing severe hearing loss; truth be told, we are having a hard time. Each day brings new challenges, each day we are tired and worried and lifting up our burdens to the Lord. These are difficult times.

But yesterday afternoon my ten-year-old ran into the house loudly announcing, "Mommy, there's a HUGE rainbow outside. You HAVE to COME SEE!" It was the most beautiful thing I have seen in a long time. The clouds were steel gray, the sun was breaking through just enough to make the oak leaves glow and the rainbow shine brilliantly against the dark canvas. It spanned the whole sky and it was breathtaking. We let the raindrops fall on us as we stood and watched the show. And we laughed for a little bit. It was a short break of joy, and it was most welcome.

Years ago I heard a message about suffering and how at times we have to wait before we will have a song to sing. That message was by Jill Briscoe who happens to be friends with my dear friend Steph (whom I haven't met yet, but I hold her dear to my heart nonetheless.) She heard the same wisdom from her friend in this way: Oh, Steph. This is just the Selah before your next Psalm. Don't miss this or you won't know the next song. The Selah. That is where I am living right now. In that space between the praises.

But in the midst of the Selah there was a rainbow. How cool is that?

The Eagle Scout

With Dad and Scoutmaster

Five years of scouting and several intense months of work, motivated by the approach of the eighteenth birthday, have culminated in the award of Eagle Scout for our son.

With the men who conducted the board of review

The road to Eagle Scout offered the chance for Zack to showcase his strengths as he provided leadership for the troop and as he executed his project at the observatory. It also challenged him to focus on details and to meet deadlines. It was hard, hard work and it was work well done!

Did you know....

In 2008, around 5% of all Boy Scouts earned the Eagle Scout rank.
From 1912 to 2009, 2 million Boy Scouts earned the Eagle Scout rank.

Welcome to the 5%, son. We are so proud!!!

Anticipation....

Rain is forecast this week. Oh, will it be welcome. The dusty brown has outstayed its welcome, and my soul is hungering for some green. Everything about the rain sounds welcome. Yes, even the rushing around our neglected property, picking up the tossed aside pair of shoes and that neglected tool. We're ready; let the rain begin.

Our son's Eagle Scout board of review is on Tuesday night. We are drilling him with questions, he is picking up the dry cleaned uniform, we're all praying and planning for a fun celebration with friends. This will be the culmination of years of work...we can hardly wait.

The doctors hope to discharge my mother from the hospital early this week. Sixteen days ago we raced her to the emergency room, and she was sick enough for us to wonder if she would ever return. She is stronger now, the infection is gone, and so we prepare for her homecoming. We have no idea what to expect about her health. Will she be able to fully recover from such a serious infection? Will she need more help at home? What is our role in all of this? For someone who likes answers, likes to be prepared, the lack of answers is more than a little unnerving. But at each confusing step of this journey we have had the wisdom we needed...just enough and just in time. I am confident that it will be here when we need it.

“The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson~

(Today's photos courtesy of public domain.)

Autumn Gratitude

Five favorite faces around the fire.
Two guitars played by two favorite men.

Flickering flames giving warmth and beauty.
One bright moon playing peek-a-boo with the pine boughs.
Quiet moments when all there is to do is enjoy the company and let the peace settle in.

Indoor beauty not to be forgotten...

A cat, resting in the warm windowsill sunshine.
New yarn: butter yellow, nutty brown, cream and perriwinkle.
Candles flickering.

And all of this doesn't even begin to list the gratitude for meals provided, cards written, visits and the general wonderfulness of family and friends. Amidst the stress, life is so good. Amazingly good. I'm grateful.



Once again not posted on Monday...but once again very, very grateful.

Quick updates

My mom is resting comfortaby in the hospital. She is expected to be in for another week, though. After such a serious infection, she is weak and needs more care. We miss her like crazy, but we are glad that she is in such capable hands.

Our college girl has been diagnosed with bronchitis. She has antibiotics and cough medicine, and she has friends to help her. And her mother and father are doing their best not to drive her absolutely crazy with emails, phone calls and text messages. It's hard for parents to grow up, though. The college girl, on the other hand, is doing a marvelous job at it.

Faith's Donuts

1 egg + enough warm water to make one cup
1/2 cup more warm water
1/3 cooking oil
4 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
4 1/2 T sugar
3/4 t salt
3 T powdered milk
3 t instant yeast
Frosting of choice


Put egg in measuring cup, beat thoroughly.
Add enough warm water to make one cup.
Put egg/water in mixer bowl.
Add 1/2 cup more warm water, cooking oil, flour, sugar, salt, powdered milk, yeast.

On my mixer I pulsed until all the ingredients were well mixed, and then put it on auto-knead until well kneaded.

Roll out to 3/4 inch thick. Cut into whatever shape you like. We did a large round glass with a shot glass for donut holes. Some (aka: Faith) cut into 3"x6" bars. Put on a pan to rise in a warm place (my house was cold yesterday so I put them in a 170 degree oven.)

When they have risen for "a bit" (can't remember how long or how high), cook in hot oil. I used a few holes for my sacrificial bits...at first the oil was too hot and the dough got too brown too fast. By the time we got to the big ones, though, we were set. Make sure you have something on which to put your hot, greasy donuts. This doesn't have to be a messy project, but it sure can be. It's up to you.

Frosting: we like maple donuts, so we just added maple syrup to powdered sugar until it was spreadable. Make sure you wait until the donuts are cool enough so the frosting does not melt off. You can see the fruit of our impatience if you look closely at the donut pictured.

Another good option would be dusting with powdered sugar or dipping in cinnamon sugar.

*Disclaimer: If anyone in your family is coming home more than five minutes after these donuts are served, hide a few in the cupboard so that there are some left. They go fast. Also, I could never make these if I didn't have a house full of hungry people. A donut hole or two is more than enough for moi.*


HT: Miss Faith who helped a very Mondayish Monday become almost Fridayish.

Eighteen

The other morning I opened up a joyous email, one announcing that a friend's granddaughter had been born. What a blessing it is to hear of a baby, of a whole new person beginning the journey. In the midst of illness and hospitals and worry, the promise of new life is a gift.

But that little baby in Eugene, Oregon is not the only birthday I've been celebrating. There is a new eighteen-year-old in town, a young man we are proud to call our son.

Welcome to adulthood, big guy.

WE LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!

Some duck pictures

for a dear girl in Oregon.

The flu has reared its ugly head in the house in Eugene, especially unfortunate during the first week of classes. I hope pictures of these funny creatures bring some cheer and laughs to a girl with aches and a cough and generalized misery.

The duck version of toweling off after a bath.

The Elvis hair style is still poofing and making us laugh.

"Feel better soon, Madelaine!"

Fear not

If you have never taken the time to gasp at the beauty of the photography at Short on Words, today would be a good day to remedy that. I found these words awaiting me:

Say to those with anxious heart,
Take courage, fear not.
Behold, your God will come with vengeance;
The recompense of God will come,
And He will save you.

Then the eyes of the blind will be opened,
And the ears of the deaf will be unstopped.
Then the lame will leap like a deer,
And the tongue of the dumb will shout for joy.

Isaiah 35:4-6

Just what the doctor ordered, Susan. Thanks so much.

The face of Thursday

On Wednesday my mother did not know who I was. For four hours, her eyes were vacant, her jaw slightly slack, her affect one of anonymity.

For four hours I sat by her bed, watching, waiting, worrying, and wondering. I could feel my heart slowly breaking, and after brief tears in the arms of my son, I could cry no more. It was so much more than sad; it was so much more than frightening. Prayers were groanings, for there were no words.

And then she was back.

"Hello, dear" were never more welcome words.

And yet I ache still from the memory.

Thursday I needed to buy pillows for our bed, and I bought four huge, puffy, luxurious ones from the clearance rack. I found silky cotton pillowcases the color of chocolate milk to stuff them into, and all these necessary but extravagant-all-the-same purchases gave me a little joy.

And so that afternoon I found myself ironing pillowcases. Ironing pillowcases. In a house neglected for days and days because of crisis, in a house where any moment someone will truly have no clean clothes because of the state of neglect in the laundry room, in a house where math papers need to be reviewed. And she irons her pillowcases instead.

Well, if I have learned one thing in life it is that grief and sorrow take on many faces. And Thursday mine took on the pillowcase ironing face. I stood there, sprinkling water on the crumpled surfaces, running the hot iron across, feeling the hot steam rising to greet me, and I watched as the creases disappeared. Beauty was there for the taking. I plumped my new chocolate milk pillows, made my bed a place of lovely rest, and for thirty minutes I was able to restore order to one little corner of my out of control universe.

So, you see, ironing pillowcases really did make a lot of sense for this time of worrying and wondering and watching. A lot of sense.