Several of my cyber communicants have said, "I need to check your blog to see what you're up to." This acted as a sort of cattle prod to get my bum onto the chair in front of the computer and actually say something. As an act of full disclosure, however, I'll also admit that I'm doing almost anything legal to avoid going back to grading final exams and research papers for my graduating seniors. You know; vacuuming the refrigerator coils, waxing the cat, alphabetizing the spice jars ...
We weathered the tornadoes last week without any particular harm, for which I am deeply, deeply grateful. There was horrible damage and even death around us, but we were, by grace or the serendipity of weather, spared. I'm not using the imperial plural here, I mean me and the furkids. I usually don't pay a whole lot of attention to the imaginings and threats of the National Weather Service unless I'm going bike riding and don't want to get seriously rained upon. That and my favorite coping skill of focusing on what's going on right in front of me leave me particularly vulnerable to quixotic weather happenings. I had to be in Knoxville on the day, which meant that the hour-long drive up there was liberally spiked with dire warnings on the car radio of things to come . It absolutely poured buckets and bathtubs all the way along the freeway. This is to say that it didn't start until I got on the freeway and stopped when I got off. Wonder if it would have worked better to take back roads? At any rate, motoring along an interstate freeway in a Mini Cooper in a drenching downpour is like sloshing through a really dirty car wash. There's the rain, but there's also all the wake spray from the monster SUV's and the long-distance semi-trucks. And I'm convinced to a moral certainty that the drivers of those behemoths can not see my tiny little dark green car in the waves they are creating. That may just be my well-honed paranoia, though ... The rain let up for most of the rest of the day in the places I happened to be. By the early evening, however, the deadly weather began to arrive. By now I
was paying attention. Thunder began to rumble and the wind took it in turns to lie still or rage furiously. At the risk of sounding completely frivolous, I decided that the best thing for me to do was go about what passes for my normal routine and hope for the best. After all, there is no "safe" place in my house if a tornado decides to visit. So, I gave the canine furkids tranquilizers and sat watching movies so that the feline furkids could drape themselves about me. When the roaring of the wind got so loud that I couldn't hear the film soundtrack, I actually did look out the window and was amazed at the scene. The ridge behind my house is fully forested and it was waving about the like the Forest of Fangorn when the Ents finally decided to go to war. I was watching Avatar at the time and I wasn't sure which CGI was the more amazing; the screen or the view from the back doors. I confess to being more scared then than I have been in a very long time. But we all survived and, miraculously, had no significant property damage. I called the place my mom lives and they were as hunkered down as possible and dealing as well as they could with a population of elderly folks who require assisted living. Other than the effects of the stress, Mom came through well, too. I can't chalk up my survival to clean living, so I'll just offer up a prayer of thanks for grace. And remember to pray for those who didn't fare as well. The following day was a glorious spring day with blue skies, only the gentlest of breezes and occasional fat clouds drifting by. Go figure.
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| The Vita Comp |
I am finally back on my bicycle. A friend loaned me his daughter's bike to put on the trainer for the last few months. After the winter surgeries I wasn't able to throw my leg over the bar on my bike in the accepted fashion, so I needed a bike with a step-through frame. Let me say here and now that bike trainers just suck. While I'm glad they offer an opportunity to get the exercise indoors (or, in my case, when you don't trust your body to keep you from falling off the bike), they are simply nothing like riding a bike outside. After a long, involved conference with my bike junkie, I have purchased a new bike that should better suit my new requirements. I love my old Allez dearly, but I just can't keep hunching over those drop handlebars anymore. The new bike hasn't arrived yet, so I'm riding my old Expedition. It's a great bike for boardwalks and shady suburban lanes. It's not so great for the hills of East Tennessee. It weighs about 8.6 tons and has vast, chunky tires that positively claw at the road. However, it has an upright silhouette and no clips on the pedals. That means my hip joint angle is not compromised and I can put my foot on the ground quickly without worrying whether the whole bike is going to go over with me. I have every intention of getting back to clips, but all in good time. I have been out on some hills and on the river ride in Chattanooga. It's marvelous. I have no stamina yet, but I have no pain either. The stamina I can work on. The new bike should arrive shortly and I can really get to work on final prep for our ride along the second half of the Natchez Trace at the end of the month. What fun!
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| Transplanted Southern Belle |
Life with Mom continues to be a joy and a challenge. As mentioned earlier, she weathered the storm last week, but it was difficult for her. The protocol at her assisted living facility requires that the residents be moved to a "safe place" during any hazardous weather conditions. That translates to a long interior hall well away from windows. Dining room chairs are lined against both sides of the hall and the residents remain there while the danger is present. Unfortunately that was from about 3:00 - 11:00 p.m. last week. I think everyone was exhausted by the time they were allowed to return to their apartments. Her goofy little dachshund worked the crowd as a therapy dog, so that helped. Since then we've tried to get out with some regularity to assure her that things are back to whatever passes for normal any more. I've been reading a book, which I recommend to anyone sharing their life with and caring for an aging parent,
Welcome to the Departure Lounge: Adventures in Mothering Mother by Meg Federico. While the experience she describes is not exactly like mine (or probably like anyone else's), you'll recognize the similarities in how one feels dealing with a parent in this stage of their life. Bless 'em, Lord.
Well, I'd better give up and go attend to those exams. All classes were canceled on the tornado day, which was, of course, our last class before exams. Then the department head called me to tell me that she had just been advised that the grades for graduating seniors were due on Monday. Um, that's fine, but our final exam isn't scheduled until
Wednesday and the research papers aren't due until then either. So we scrambled around trying to reschedule exams and papers for the seniors so that grades could go in timely. While I usually prefer being out of any loop that's going, sometimes it causes problems. However, all my glorious little seniors came through and got things taken care of. Now it's down to me to finish grading ... (possibly my least favorite part of teaching).
Beneath the sober appearance society demands of us, most of us are daily going a little bit out of our minds, which in itself should give us cause to hold out a hand to our comparably tortured neighbors. (Alaine de Botton)
