IT'S A BIRD....IT'S A PLANE.....

Google tells me today that this is the 50th anniversary of the launch of Sputnik. Fifty years ago Russia launched this tiny satellite into the sky, and millions of Americans gazed into the night heavens hoping for a glimpse. I can remember well standing out on the front lawn with my Dad, looking and looking until we finally spotted it. What an amazing thing it was! This man-made object floating around in earth's orbit. We looked at it many nights, and as a 9-year-old I remember it as an exciting, happy thing. Now I wonder what my parents were really thinking.

The fact that Russia was the first in space was definitely not an occasion for celebration during the years of the Cold War between our two countries. Rather, it was something to be feared, for it opened the door for attack from space. What an idea! I had no inkling of the tensions created by this little satellite...not something we discussed around the dinner table.

But, as a young student of the American school system, I was very aware of the dangers of the Cold War. It was in grade school that we learned to "duck and cover" and for goodness sake, don't look at the light during an atomic blast! We also had a drill that involved our getting to a "safe house" within 10 minutes of the school. My grandparents lived within that range, so on drill day, we would race out the back door of the school, across the sports field, and then the three blocks to their house. These same grandparents would move in 1962 from the city out to our neighborhood in the country, and would build a new home that included a built-in "fall-out" shelter room. We were very much aware that this other country wanted to blow us off the map. I don't remember now if I ever had nightmares about it, but it was very much a part of our lives.

Still, I don't recall Sputnik ever being anything other than a really cool thing....and an opportunity to share some fun time with my Dad.

HOW CURVACEOUS!

My favorite 12-year-old called me this morning on the way to her soccer game in Tumwater...."Kathy! I saw the Curves sign going up in Montesano!"

We have been keeping a watchful eye out since the rumor started that a Curves would be opening in this little town. Since it's growing by leaps and bounds (the town, that is), it apparently has now been deemed Curves-worthy. HIP, HIP, HOORAH!

I have belonged to Curves in the past. Went for a year and a half until my exercise partner disappeared to Australia for three months, and then I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer...both things adding up to my stopping and not returning. The only thing that returned was the weight and inches that I'd lost. I could have gone back at any time, but I didn't. Another detriment was that it was in downtown Aberdeen, and I'm never in Aberdeen. All my errands are to Montesano. I said if they ever opened one there, I'd be in line on opening day.

It is opening one block east of the post office I frequent, one block west of my bank drive-in, around the corner from my library, one block north of where we get gas, and right next door to Oishi Teriyaki and Subway. The only way it could be better is if there were a fabric store in the same block.

So, once again I will become an exercise junkie. My doctor will be pleased. She says I need to walk....just walk! I'm thinking I will park several blocks from this Curves and get my walk in coming and going.

I can hardly wait.

UP, UP, AND AWAY

Last night my husband flew in this itty bitty plane with a friend of his who’d recently gotten his pilot’s license. I was nervous about the whole thing.

The plane was old, with lots of re-built parts. But of course, it was in fine flying condition. Right? And so what if Wayne had only recently gotten his license. He’s taken lots of people up flying, and everyone said he did a fine job. Uh huh.

So I hugged my hubby tight, kissed him hard, told him I loved him, and sent him out the door, wondering if the supper we’d just finished was our last meal together. Okay, so maybe that thought was a little morbid, but hey….I told you I was nervous about the whole thing.

After he’d left I found myself thinking these thoughts: No matter how tightly I hugged him, or how hard I kissed him, or how many times I told him I loved him…..if he didn’t come back, it wouldn’t have been enough. There’s no way it COULD have been. Nothing we do ahead of time could prepare us for the reality of losing someone we love.

He came home in one piece….had a great time….got a little air sick though, and I’m hoping that will discourage him from going again!

A DAY AT THE BEACH

We went out to the beach this weekend. There is a new housing development going in at Pacific Beach, and the ads for the properties show such nice homes, we wanted to check it out. The development is called “Seabrook” … and it’s not just an area of homes, it’s a whole town. Houses, parks, shops, promenades, an amphitheater…you name it, this place will have it. It’s in the early development stages, so there wasn’t too much to see right now.

The houses are beautiful. Cedar shingled, for beautiful weathering, with paint trims in Federal blue, hunter green, old barn red. Balconies on most….crows nests on some. These homes could easily fit right in at Cape Cod or Nantucket. Gorgeous. I picked my favorite immediately, and when I went online to look at their houses for sale, found it was listed at $899,000. And it’s not even 3000 sf. Whoa. I was surprised to see little 770 sf homes listed at over $400,000. (This really IS like the east coast!) What’s interesting is these homes are not on the beach. They are across the road, and at a level that doesn’t allow you to see the ocean because of the trees on the other side of the highway unless you have a crows nest at the top of your home. The houses have no property other than what they are sitting on, and I don’t think they are more than 5-6 feet apart. Seems a tad expensive to me. But they say they are selling a living experience…not just a house. There are houses and cottages for rent (nightly to monthly), and those rates seemed reasonable.

From there we drove down to Ocean Shores. We were rewarded with lots of sunshine, crowds of people enjoying the first day of the Labor Day Weekend, and what appeared to be a brown pelican migration. The skies were filled with them…different groups in different parts of the ocean along the south jetty. In the horizon you could see V-formations of them approaching….bird, after bird, after bird. Perhaps there was something special in the water that day, some tasty morsel of a favorite fish or vertebrate that had their attention. Whatever the reason, they were fascinating to watch, and I don’t recall ever seeing them in such numbers.

As close as we are to the ocean (20-25 miles), we rarely go there. We are not “ocean” people. I don’t care for the sand between my toes, am not entranced by the repetitious pounding of the waves, and the smell of fresh salt air does nothing for my mood or disposition. The one exception to this would probably be a beach on Maui or something like that. I am very fond of the tropical islands we’ve visited. But other than that……

I’d rather be on a mountain. I could stand on a mountain, raise my face to the heavens, and swear that I can hear the voice of God. As some people can sit for hours watching the ocean waves, I can lose myself in a vista of mountaintops. My soul feels free, and at peace. Complete serenity. The scent of fir and pine is the sweetest odor on earth, and the birdsong is music to my ears.

I dream about a home where I can walk out my front door, sit on the covered wrap-around porch, and look out at a forested valley, bordered by mountains. That would be heaven-on-earth to me. I certainly don’t have that now…but it doesn’t hurt to dream.

DEAR DIARY

#73 Dear Diary



July 15, 1988

Dear Diary.......It's been almost three months since the diagnosis that spun my world. What seemed like a "simple" gallbladder attack back in April, was in reality stomach cancer. Things have been so crazy since then that I haven't had time to write. We have been thrust into a world of hospitals, doctors, needles, and drugs. Of feeling sick almost all the time. The good days are few and far between. And I am so tired.

Our first doctor washed his hands of us....said that surgery or chemo wouldn't do any good. How does he know this? He has done nothing more than biopsy a metastasized lump in B's neck. I know that the fact the cancer has moved from point A to point B is not a good thing. Still....it seems cruel to have all your hopes dashed to the floor in one quick sentence. This doctor is a brilliant surgeon, but his lack of tact and cold bedside manner are well known. B tells him...SCREAMS at him...that we will find another doctor. He is not going to just give up. Th doctor replies, "Well.....good luck to you, buddy."

We find another surgeon who is willing to operate. To cut B open and see just what's going on. So on a lovely day in May we head up to St. Peter's. There is a large group of us....B's family, and our pastor and his wife. The surgery was going to be a long process, and they encouraged us to go get some lunch while we waited. We went to Wendy's and kept the talk light and upbeat.

We had just gotten back to the waiting room when Dr. H appeared. He had the saddest, tenderest look on his face as he approached me. I'm sorry, he said. The cancer is through all his organs. There was nothing I could do for him. Maybe chemotherapy can help.

I just stared at him in disbelief, and then slowly walked to the ladies' room. I stumbled inside and collapsed against the wall. Sinking to the floor, I began sobbing. My sister-in-law was right behind me, and together we sat on that cold, hard bathroom floor, crying as tho the world had ended. I know lots of women went in and out, but no one said anything....after all, this was a hospital, and tears can be pretty common.

B was moved into the hospice unit, and chemotherapy began. For two weeks drugs were pumped into his system. I drove from Aberdeen to Olympia every day to sit by his side. It must have been adrenaline that kept me going, for I was exhausted....mentally and physically. Lots of friends came to visit while he was there, and the guys from the archery shop brought in their VCR and some hunting tapes for him to watch in his hospital room. Their visits cheered him greatly.


Because B has hypogammaglobulinemia, he is uninsurable. We have no medical insurance that is going to cover ANY of these expenses. The hopsital was wonderful about it. They gave us forms for Medicaid, and told us that what the state wouldn't pay for, they would wipe off their books. I was so grateful....I cried again.

After he came home from the hopsital, he continued getting chemo from our local hopsital. This was a several hour ordeal, and he was placed in a hospital room for the treatment. I had always been terrified of needles, and couldn't bear to see them stuck in anyone. It has now become so common that I don't even turn my head. To pass the time of his treatments, I am crocheting. My first afghan. The nurses tell me I am doing a great job.

Last week we were told that the chemo wasn't working. In fact, his tumors had doubled in size. I guess we can't be in denial any more.

I am busy during the day. Friends are in and out a lot. One of his family members is here every day. It irks me that his family sits back and expects to be waited on with coffee and food...as if I don't have enough to worry about. Fortunately, my church family has been awesome. They come by regularly with foods they hope will whet his appetite. He doesn't want to eat. His body is shutting down. So, it gives me something to feed the visitors.

I don't know if I sleep. My mind goes constantly. I think I feel guilty that he is dying. I prayed so often to be taken out of this abusive marriage. Well, God has answered my prayer, but not in the way I ever expected. So, part of me is sad....part of me feels guilty....and part of me is relieved. Oh, that sounds so horrid! What kind of person am I to feel even a bit of relief that he is not going to be around any more? That I am going to be free of the verbal, mental, and physical abuse he has handed out for the past 14 years? I must be some kind of monster to feel any kind of gratefulness. He has asked me to forgive him. And of course, I do.

What will my life be like with him gone? I'll turn 40 next month, and soon I'll be a widow. I haven't worked in years, other than to help run the well drilling business we own. And I'll be left with the responsibility of that, and dealing with his son, who thinks that the business should be handed over to HIM...not me.

But I can't deal with any of that now. I'm so tired. And I'm so scared.

BOATS OF THUNDER

It's hydroplane Sunday in the Pacific Northwest. Those jet boats are tearing up Lake Washington under picture-perfect blue skies. The Blue Angels came out and did a "half-time" show...always awesome to watch. My sister, Teri, is at Safeco watching the Sox and the Mariners, and I'm wondering if she can see the Angels from outside the stadium. You could watch them perform from the old King Dome.

The Sea Fair boat races were a big deal in our household when I was a kid. (ANY sporting event could be a big deal as far as Dad was concerned.) But back in the 60's, we would combine forces on that race-day Sunday with our neighbors down the street, and have us a bit of a party. Dad and Fred would hunker down in front of the TV, beer in hand, to talk and watch the boats. The amazing Bill Muncey in the Miss Thriftway, Run Musson at the helm of the Miss Bardahl ("Bardahl did it again"), the Slo-Mo boats, the Miss Maverick, Miss Wahoo, and later, the Miss Madison and the Miss Budweiser. The Gold Cup Race was a HUGE deal, and boats came from all over.

In the kitchen, Mom and Aurelia would be putting on a taco feed of mass proportions. There were 14 of us in the two families, and tacos are not the easiest thing to prepare for a crowd. But Aurelia was from El Paso, and tacos were a family specialty. I'm sure we did a lot of waiting in line for our turn for another taco once the initial serving had been received. And as if the frying of hamburger, chopping of tomatoes, grating of cheese, and shredding of lettuce wasn't enough, not to mention frying the taco shells (that's the way we did it back then) they also made chili rellenos. Oh, yum. Well....I'm not sure I liked those back then, but I sure do now.

And while all that TV watching and cooking was going on, we kids were outside playing. Nine girls, and my lone brother. Something called "No bears are out tonight" and "kick the can" were two favorite games. It was a great time. It was summer...the weather was grand...school was just around the corner but we weren't thinking of that yet.

So today when the races came on, I felt a bit nostalgic. It always reminds me of a special time in my "childhood." And if that wasn't enough, who's busy announcing these races today but Pat O'Day...DJ to all us teens in the 60's...and 70's. KJR, Seattle...Chanel 95. Ah yes. He was our constant companion in the days when transistor radios were a brand new thing, and we could take our music with us without benefit of electricity. He brought us Elvis (well, later Elvis), the Beach Boys, and of course, the Beatles and the rest of the British invasion. He was so funny, even the adults listened to him. And what's amazing is, his voice sounds exactly the same as he did 40 years ago. Exactly!

Well, I'm sure it's about time for the final heat....gotta run!

THAT 70'S SHOW

Remember the TV show, "The Courtship of Eddie's Father"? That adorable child with a single dad, and the wonderful Japanese housekeeper, whose name I can't recall. In one episode she relates to Eddie a haiku....one that has stuck in my brain from that moment on.

"From time to time while
gazing at the moon
clouds will come to give us rest."


I like it. I like thinking on it. I think it holds an important message for us all.

Well, today while I was out soaking up some rays, that haiku popped into my head. And I immediately made my own version:

"From time to time while
soaking up some rays
breezes come to cool me off."


It was cooler today, what with the winds and a cloud or two. But I'm still working on getting some Vitamin D. I hear that in our area, it will be the liquid variety by the weekend. :-(