Can You Hear Me Now?

Okay, here (hear) they are :-)

I've had these little babies for three days now and can't believe the difference in my ability to pick up the tiniest sound. It's nearly as remarkable as when I got my first pair of glasses and realized that normal people could see that trees had individual leaves.

As a child, I had frequent and extremely painful ear infections that my parents treated with warm olive oil dripped into the ear canal and held there with cotton, and by blowing cigarette smoke into the ear canal (go figure). If that didn't work, a shot of penicillin would. Magic! One winter there was an abscess near the eardrum that a doctor had to lance to allow it to drain. Even giving birth cannot compare to that pain. A mass of scar tissue is still there on the eardrum; I saw it on the screening monitor.

Back in my National Gypsum days, all employees took mandatory hearing tests on a regular basis. I saw then that my hearing was gradually deteriorating; nothing spectacular, but enough to get my attention. A couple years ago, a come-on for a free hearing exam appeared in the mail. Those nice folks tried to convince me that I was in desperate need of hearing aids and it would cost me only $9000. Huh. Nobody's that desperate.

Then, a couple weeks ago, another come-on appeared. Having found myself saying, "What?" and "Sorry?" and "Can you repeat that, please?" much too often, I thought maybe it was time. Mike was being very patient with my sitting close to and turning up the TV, not to mention having to say everything twice or even three times. If you've ever noticed, when a person's hearing is going, they smile and nod a lot, and look hard at your lips, and cock their heads to put their best ear forward. They're nearly uncommunicative in a crowd because they can't distinguish one sound from another. Well, that was me. I knew it, and apparently had been hiding it pretty well because even family and friends didn't know and were surprised that I got hearing aids.

No, they didn't cost $9000, but they are "top-of-the line" technologically, and as you can see from the picture, pretty much invisible. The biggest part goes behind the ear, with a tiny tube running around the top of the ear and directly into the ear canal where the aid itself is completely hidden. A short "tail" curls into the ear, also unseen unless you look hard. I visit the technician every week for a month for any needed adjustments. There are free visits, consultations, adjustments and upgrades for the life of the instrument, plus a two-year warranty.

Already, I'm a believer because I'm hearing sounds I had forgotten existed. Life continues to be a wonder!

Books, Books, Books

I think I’ve figured out why I read so much … well, actually, why I read so much fiction. Not that I don’t enjoy an occasional historical novel, or a biography, or even a “how-to” self-help book… but for the most part, my choice is fiction. Not just any fiction, though; for instance, the “bodice-rippers” that some women enjoy seem light and fanciful and silly to me. Neither do I prefer science fiction, though I’ve read a lot of it in my time. Mysteries are fun; nothing like a good “whodunit”. I enjoyed all of Harry Potter (not purely a children’s series), and most of Stephen King (shudder). In fact, I’ve found that once I discover an author who “speaks to me”, I will make every effort to read more books by that same author. What a joy to find a really fine writer, a master of words, a magician with description and dialogue, a lover of nuance and suggestion, someone who moves the reader into the story with ease!

Some people say that reading fiction is pure escapism; others say it’s to live a fantasy. I’ve come to realize that it is far more than that. A good story has a beginning, a middle and an end. The characters appear, interact, develop and change, and find their place in the plot. The story takes on a life of its own, and becomes part of the reader’s experience/knowledge base/consciousness. Whether or not the author intends any effects, a good novel affects the reader. Sometimes it provides a means of relaxation or of reward, and yes, a way of getting away from “real life”. How and why that happens is the interesting part.

In a good novel the reader is presented with a setting and a situation, and from there on it becomes more or less complicated and more or less convoluted, but it always has a resolution. Actually, I find it rather comforting to realize that we readers are not responsible in any way for how things turn out. We can laugh or cry, and run through the entire gamut of emotions, but a novel, a piece of fiction, is, after all, make believe.

On the other hand, there is real life. It has a beginning, but we don’t know when we are at the middle, and who knows when or how the end will come? Life gets complicated, and more often than not there is no resolution… we just advance blindly into the next maelstrom. Our thoughts and actions and emotions are very, very real, and we are definitely responsible for how things turn out. The pressure is on, and it never lets up… we can’t close the book until we have time to look and see what happens.

Can there be any wonder why so many avid readers escape into fiction?

Who Likes Golf?

Lots of golf in my life this last week. 18 holes on Thursday and another 18 yesterday. Thursday I played 9 holes with J.D. Faris in Senior League (he was subbing for Wilma) followed by 9 holes with Lucas (playing our Community League round). Friday I played 9 holes with Colleen, just for fun and to warm up for a second 9 holes, during which she was subbing for Shirley Jeffers, another one of my Community League partners. You would think I actually liked the game!

Mostly I enjoy being outdoors (and not working), and being with good friends and/or family. That’s a good thing because I certainly do not enjoy the scores I end up with (the scores with which I end up?... no… the scores up with which I end?). “Dangling participles”: I wish I had never heard of them. English is terrible with all its rules and contradictions, and I am constantly reminded how glad I am that I don’t have to learn it as a second language!!

We took over the management of the golf course in January of 1998 and I spent most of the next several summers working in a flimsy, crowded 10’ x 12’ structure that does a poor job of pretending to be a clubhouse. I started playing golf sometime during the summer of 2000 after having realized that I could certainly not do any worse than some of the people I had been watching through the windows. (Little did I know.) Another reason I attempted learning the game was to become more comfortable with the language, and to be able to share stories with other golfers. I did successfully achieve some of those goals, but I still feel awkward and out of synch when I try to play the game. Maybe learning a new sport at age 60 is not such a good idea. Any improvement is offset by getting even older.


On the other hand, never in my life was I an athlete, only an occasionally interested observer of a few select sports, and then only in small doses… so there you go.
One especially fun thing about golf is that there are so many excuses why one isn’t doing well that day… and I have used most of them :-)

Flowers... Indoors?!

Flowers are so lovely growing outside, whether in the wild or as we humans think looks best. Though I love having flower arrangements inside, my preference is to enjoy them in nature. The seed for these cosmos and zinnias were given to me by a golfing friend. Merrily tossing them onto barely disturbed ground early this spring, I had no idea they would turn out to be quite this glorious. Not knowing whether or not he checks my blog, this picture is my tribute to him and to all those who share their love of nature. Little did I know this little plot of ground in front of my house, which has been in the past totally unsuccessful in demonstrating any fertility whatsoever, would provide such beauty.
Thanks, Ray!

The Beauty of July

We're into the most vigorous growing season of the year, and the plentiful Spring rains followed by long, hot days helped all the plants, shrubs, flowers and trees around here to thrive. Some of my shrubs got carried away, showing growth well beyond what we usually see in early July, so I was busy outside today with our electric hedge trimmer. We've had some really hot days, but the humidity has been bearable. This makes Summer a much more pleasant season for me. (Shh-h-h, don't let Mother Nature hear; she will slam down the humidity!) The rose bushes enjoyed an early, spectacular blooming phase, and then put all their energy into growing up and out, with no new rosebuds showing. So they got whacked way back, too. It is now possible to approach our front door from the driveway, along the walkway and onto the porch without picking your way or getting swallowed up by greenery.


My garden is creeping along. I've decided to adopt Ruth Stout's method of mulching, using hay that is simply pushed aside for planting in the Spring, and added to as needed to keep the weeds down. Hay allows rainfall through and holds the moisture in the soil. It also gradually decomposes and becomes part of the soil, enriching it over time as well as or better than any of the purchased mulches. I've harvested my first lettuce and radishes, and there are green tomatoes and small peppers ripening. The first cucumber showed up a couple days ago. I've had to replant several things because of the rascally rabbits, but once I get the hay fully distributed I don't think it will be so pleasant for them to approach the garden rows. One can always hope.


The zinnias and marigolds and cosmos are hard at it, making the place more beautiful. Right now, though, the lilies get the prize for magnificence. They are in competition with the glory of the skies overhead.

"Gibbous" Moon

No matter how old we get, there is always wa-a-ay more out there to learn. Thank heavens for Google, right? Recently I came across the term "gibbous moon", and recalled having read it in a poem (perhaps "Jabberwocky"?). I found that, once again, I absolutely had to know what it meant. Goggle has many, many references that explain the term in many, many ever-so-slightly different ways, but this is the best because there are pictures!

For those of you who are leery about accessing sites you aren't sure about, here is the explanation in a nutshell: A waning gibbous moon is a bit more than half illuminated on the left side. A waxing gibbous moon is a bit more than half illuminated on the right side. So, to be "gibbous", the moon phase has to be approximately halfway between a full moon and a new moon. Got it? To really complicate things, a gibbous moon is close to the horizon, so not all that easy to see. Fun, huh?

Cat Sitting

I lived at daughter Miki's house in Bloomington this last week, cat-sitting while she and Kevin went on a trip. Much of the inside of the house enjoyed a recent renovation, and it is lovely. While there I read and watched movies and slept a lot, went for walks and sat outside in the sunshine with nothing to do but just "be". There were no shoulds and oughts (other than feeding the cats) so I just let my mind and body float through the days.




The cats, Maurice and Kahlo, were very entertaining. Their personalities are quite different, and I found it amazing that they were able to communicate so well, non-verbally, with one another and with me. Part of the charm of my stay was that those cats generated a lot of laughter, and there's much balm for the soul in laughter. Of course, I couldn't resist generating a little stress by working on an impossible puzzle that I had spread all over their dining table.


Home now and all caught up with the bookkeeping and laundry and emails and phone calls. I find that I am completely relaxed and contented... well, almost comatose, after a week of quiet ease. Of course, it is always nice to be back in one's own home, but I hope Miki asks me again when she needs a cat-sitter.