Possible

Our greatest strength
lies in the
gentleness and tenderness
of our heart.
~Rumi

Some days I have to reach out and grab hold of that compassion that I know I do have. 

Today was interesting. There was a huge urgency to find a washer to put on the hose that attached to the hydrant. It leaked when he turned it on and suddenly the world would end if we didn't find one. 

I said that I would fix it [I did by walking over to the hydrant and unscrewing the hose and then screwing it back on.]

But it became vital that I find a tiny pack of rubber washers. 

Rich fought for the words to explain what he wanted. His stroke and some of his other brain issues make it very hard for him to communicate sometimes. 

It is difficult for him. Though I generally understand what he wants.

A frenzied search ensued to no avail.

I offered to pick up a new little pack while in town the next time. That would NOT do. Somewhere in one of the sheds was a tiny 'thing' with little red things in it that were for the hoses. 

Finally, he was out of breath and out of energy from his Big Hunt in the old shed. 

I fixed the hose by resetting it and then cleaned the deck of the mower.

Rich went in to lay down and put on his CPAP with 02. Whenever he is frustrated he lays down for a nap. If his 02 is low, he naps. This is just how it is.

He came out later to put the deck back together. I went to put the scraper away along with a couple of other tools.

When I returned Rich was looking at the mower and the deck with hands on his hips.

I asked how I could help and he quietly said, "I don't...well. It doesn't make sense to me to go back...up...and this..." He stopped as some confusion crossed his face. "I know...this.." 

I waited. He studied the mower as if seeing it for the first time in ages.

I asked about the blocks of wood he always used in this operation of sliding the mower deck back on and putting the belt back on. He shrugged. I lifted the deck [thank you CrossFit!] and asked him to slide the blocks in place. 

Finally, just about done, he said he needed to climb on board to pull the deck up with the handle.

He was way too wobbly for that so I did it. 

Then the rain started and I looked out at the yard. It needed mowing but I guess it would wait now.

Be tender, be kind. Make each day possible.

The calm of the Forest

Day two after Vaccination. Rich told me I had to rest and relax and chill.

I told him I was fine. He argued that I wasn't. Our vacation from MDD is on its way out. He is entering another black zone. It creeps up quietly and it ebbs and flows. Things are worse when you combine MDD and dementia. Anyway I won't write about it here much. I'll drop my thoughts in The Long Road later.

First thing I did was go searching for the trees that could possibly help me find morels. According to the experts, Ash Trees don't produce tons of morels. I will beg to differ with them. The ash trees in our woods have always produced as they die from the emerald ash borer.

Below is the inside of the bark I found at the base of the tree where I find the first of the morels each year. There is a stand of trees that are slowly dying off and ... well, if we get rain, I should have more morels. Well, that is the hope.

I did pick the one I found and cooked one single one for Rich. Seems a steak and morels always make him smile.

I found this tiny bee working on a dandelion in the pasture. My pony and the goat just adore the dandelions blossoms!

For your entertainment. Goat and Pony at work in the Junk Yard section. MIL's car is there. Hubby is sure there is stuff he needs to get out of the trunk. He is sure it runs. He is adamant that nothing is wrong with it. So having it hauled away is proving to be an issue....but I digress...

I did find Black Tulip Fungi while seeking out trees. They are related to the Red Cup Fungi and is a sure sign that spring is here. 

These two were growing nearly side by side in a tiny grove of dying trees.

They were growing close to some forest lilies that are very small. It was here that I sat on a log and watched the wrens flutter about picking nesting materials. I really think I could have stayed there all day.

I did go back to the house. Rich went back to bed and slept for most of the morning. I decided it was a good morning to wash the porch windows, screens, and then the siding on the porch. Then I cleared the porch off and sorted everything.

A rinse was in order. Perhaps it was my spring cleaning of the porch! 

I'll wash the ceiling of the porch later this year. I have to work on plants to put along the front of the porch. I haven't decided what I want yet. Something colorful and very heat tolerant. 

The year I had zinnias, cosmos, and sunflowers was so fun. I could watch the bees and the birds from close up. The other half didn't like it. 

Photo from my 'porch' garden two years ago:

I spent the rest of the day doing stuff, like grooming the mules and cleaning up the spring flower gardens. 

It was exciting to watch a storm cell come in and we actually had rain for a bit!

[Infrared shot of the storm cell coming across the pasture. The clouds and sky really pop out with IR.]

This weekend I plan on finishing up pulling and piling dried burdock to get rid of and put the 'kids' out in one of the wooded pastures.

And that is it.

I have a hiking date today to show Bill how to get to the bird blind to watch cranes and geese nesting in the ponds.

Late this afternoon, I plan on working on my Forest Garden. Thank goodness for spring and all the work I can do in the forest.

 

Silence ~ But I can do better!

I live with a person who has several health issues and dementia. Some days are quiet and pretty darned boring. Those are really the better days. Then there are the days that something gets his ire up and well it can get rather tense.

The other day I was watering the large heated stock tank. The outdoor hydrant is above the house on a hillside. I use about 200 feet of construction strength black hose to run water to the stock tank which is plugged in on the porch of the house. I separate the hoses and drain them in the winter. Gravity is such a great helper. Once in the past 5 years I've had one hose ice up on me. 

I separate the hoses by the LP tank. You can see how the slope works in my favor.

The tank fills with very little work most of the time. The two mules that need special feeding requirements are kept separate from the younger mules. Fred the pony mule is 35. Mica is the grey mule. She is has heaves when it is dry and dusty and is a hard keeper. Mica is also blind in one eye. I still ride Mica and put kids on her even though she is our tallest mule. She has a very kind disposition and is very gentle.

So I finished watering, picked feet, and gave everyone except Fred a nice hug and some ear rubs. Fred is anti social and doesn't like being caught.

I wrapped things up and headed to the house. Rich had been watching from the porch door. When I got inside he proceeded to give me a very stern lecture on 'how to drain the hoses properly'. I had the angle wrong somehow and I left footprints and divots in the snow which made the hose freeze up.

He even showed me how to hold the hose properly along with how to walk. It went on and on and on. 

I internally rolled my eyes and then in a moment of stupidity blurted out. "I've been doing this for over 5 years and I've only frozen up the hose one other time during the other Polar Vortex a couple of years ago. It will be 40 today. The hoses will be just fine."

His retort was quick and sudden and a bit nasty. He turned and crossed his arms in a huff.

I realized instantly that I his time frames were confused. In his mind he'd just helped me with it not too long ago. 

He was also stressed out because the program he'd been binge watching had ended. And he was frustrated because somewhere in his mind that he was no longer out there doing simple things like draining the hose.

His punishment was the Silent Treatment. He tossed the remote and and sat on the couch. He stared at the wall arms crossed and breathing in big sighs. After about a half hour, he got up and went to take a nap.

I understand mental health issues a bit. I am a lay person who lives with it. I married a person with it. I don't have any regrets. But there are days when even I can't deal with it and I take my Angel Hat and toss it aside.

However, I grew up in a household where Mom was the Expert at Silent Treatment. She could've taught a Master's Class in Silence and exasperated looks.
I knew I shouldn't engage in it, but I did.

I plugged my earphones into my smarty phone and dialed in Pandora. Mom was the expert and I learned from her. My Mom had some mental health issues too, so I'd learned from the expert. My poor dad, I don't think he ever could understand Mom.

Silence feels like a superpower. It is a very powerful weapon. Sooner or later hubby would need help with the TV or he would want supper. I rolled these things over in my mind and decided that I'd break his silence as soon as he got up from his nap.
After all, I should be the better person in this as I am caring for him.

There is no arguing with Dementia. I discovered that with his mom. Let them rant, let them tell you what is what and simply move on. Hard to do when you literally live in close proximity.

After his nap, he wasn't having anything to do with breaking Silence. He stood with the remote and kept clicking through programs and sighing loudly. I let him.

I started to bake chocolate chip cookies. Our cottage/house is very tiny. Pretty quick, he entered the kitchen and stood.

"Whatchya doing?"

Me: Baking cookies.

Him: Didjya fall on your head? [His joke at any attempt by me at baking.]

Me: Must have.

Him: Let me have some.

Me: Okay. Can I help you find a program?

Him: Yes please.

The Silent Treatment broken and things back on an even keel.

That slippage Dementia thing....

I'm learning a lot these days about the word Dementia.

Well you know I call it 'Slippage', it is a kinder word. I wish the doctors would just call it something nicer like what it is.

Brain Disease. Perhaps instead of Dementia or Alzhiemers, or Vascular Dementia, Lewey Bodies...it could be called simply Brain Malfunction. Okay not that think of how the doctors like to use initials. BM sure wouldn't work well for Brain Malfunction.

Some days the neurons and memory pathways work perfectly for my MIL. She has very bright days which are less than her dim days. Those days she tells me of things that make no real sense to me, but make perfect sense to her.
She tells me that they moved her room again. I ask if it is 210 and she says yes of course it is. But they move it often, her name and number stay the same but sometimes they put it in different places.

I think about it later and this is a perfect explanation. It makes sense. If she is having trouble finding her way back to her room, it must have been moved. In her mind that is the only logical reason.
I'm beginning to understand how her mind will grasp something and she makes sense out of it with this type of reasoning. I applaud her line of thinking, it is imaginative.
It shows that she still is thinking and that is a good thing.

So the next time she told me that, instead of correcting her we went on an adventure to go find her room. We were both pleased as punch to find it and I congratulate her on being so clever.

"Not clever," she laughs. I leave her for the afternoon and go back home. In a way it feels hard to leave her sitting in her room like that. But now I know she will get her 'lift' chair from her apartment in her room. This should make her daytime naps easier and more comfortable than sitting in her wheelchair nodding off.


Dementia tests. There are a variety of them and though I understand the need for them to mark a baseline and watch the 'progression' of the slippage, I disagree with people visiting and trying to tell MIL to remember this or that. Endless questions instead of casual conversations.
Leave the prognosis to the doctors, but be there with your parent or spouse.

Yesterday Rich had a physical.
The nurse gave him a short 'dementia' memory test. A SLUMS test. He actually did very well and if the nurse took into account that he has aphasia, she would have scored it higher. I noted that to her... but... oh well.

His COPD is a bit worse, but I knew that because he has been avoiding going to Pulmonary Therapy. He figures that his summer work is done and he doesn't need to do more? Not sure.
Each time we get ready to go to Fresh Start he finds a reason he can't go.
"My tummy hurts"
"I'm too tired"
"I feel dizzy"

His room 02 sats are falling so I tried to show him that IF he doesn't work at it, he will get connected to the dreaded cord all the time again.
This resistance is understandable and frustrating at the same time.

I have been engaging him in opinions. "Show me how to put this cordless drill together!" He does. "If I build the stall and put some plywood in the spots where Fred would put his head through the rails would that help?"
We discuss zip ties and plywood.
A short but satisfying talk in which he tells me that I had a good idea.

He still there but fades most of the day into watching the trees and the mules out in the pasture or a TV show.
No longer is the boss guy around. The guy who would shudder to know his wife can drive his skid steer and drill a hole in plywood...or even rebuild a stall.

His is not so much 'slippage'. His memory is spotty about things from a year ago. But his issue is apathy. Stroke related apathy.
He listens to the doctors and nods, he listens to me and agrees to 'try' to do more.

And then.
He returns to watching out the window or getting tired. Self motivation seems to have disappeared completely.

Winter is coming and I feel like it could be a long one.

Unplanned

Sometimes things just don't go as planned.

I had a feeling that yesterday was going to be one of those days. Of course I've been spending my time running Rich to appointments, visiting my MIL, and working in the shed.

I've gotten pretty far in doing what I have wanted to do. I have a huge pile of broken boxes and old shopping newspapers piled in a corner to sort through. Most of it will have to be added to the brush pile as it is too busted up and dirty to be added to recycling.

I decided to take matters into my own hands and got the skid steer. I'll be taking the metal tracks off from it as soon as I can get a 'date' with my neighbor to do it. It will make using the skid steer easier and the tracks won't tear huge chunks out of the yard everywhere I turn. The tracks were for when Rich took large bales in through the soupy pastures. Since I have no need to drive through mud and muck, I have no need for the tracks. They hamper turning in tight places.

That said. I have found the confidence somewhere to be able to back this monstrous machine into the shed. I've always been afraid to do it. I figured I just had to try and see what happened. With no one to spot me. I backed it down the narrow corridor of 'stuff' to where I could fill it with old hay that was piled on the floor.

I'm standing and taking the photo from about 20 feet inside the large door. Everything to my right is not being re-organized much. Everything on the left to the 'dead' tractor is being re-organized and cleaned up.
I was able to fill the bucket with nasty old dusty hay and hay chafe. Yes, I wore a mask.

I then drove the skid steer between the buildings and dumped it in an area where no animals will eat off from it.

I backed that sucker back in and filled it with metal chunks of a cabinet that Rich was 'going' to put together some day. I have no idea where it would've fit, but it isn't for me to know what was on his mind. All I know is that he agreed to let me take it out of there and stack it on that flat bed trailer he bought years ago and has decorated the side yard for a long time.
I know eventually I'll sell all the scrap metal or as I said, it will go in an auction.

It was noon, so I quit. I wanted to go hiking at Wild Cat, but Rich wanted me to stick around while he napped. His stomach had been bothering him and I am pretty sure it is the change in meds.

So I decided to go retrieve my SD card from my trail camera.

I've been watching this doe and her yearlings for a while...in fact I was able to take a few shots of them yesterday while I was in the meadow.

Neither one of them were very afraid of me.
I then spent a while just watching the squirrels run around in the trees and the chipmunks scold each other.

I took the time to sit quietly and just enjoy the fall colors and the light falling through the golden leaves.
What I really wanted was a day to myself.

A day to hike and not worry about time or meals or tummies...

I need an unplanned day. I don't think I see one on my schedule for a few days ... unless I can escape for a while this afternoon.

I can get cranky and short tempered. Yep. I can.
I miss those
unplanned
days
where I can wander and not have to carry all
the responsibilities
on my
shoulders.

Nature calls.

...and I want to answer....


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Edit: More unplanned. Heading to the ER with hubby today instead of anything else.
See?

I don't know what for....

It is the nature of the stone to be satisfied.
It is the nature of the water to want to be somewhere else.
~~ Mary Oliver.

It is no secret that I am a fan of Mary Oliver. I have purchased two of her books of poetry. I keep finding parts of her writings that seem to speak to me personally. Of course, I know that she did not write for just me...but to the general public of course.

How do I want to be remembered once I am no longer around? 

I know. Morbid thoughts, right? However I am in a close relationship with two people that are living slow deaths. My MIL has dementia, suspected Alzheimers and my husband was diagnosed with Vascular Dementia from his stroke in 2017. My MIL has marked memory loss and cannot function safely with her health issues safely outside a skilled nursing facility. 
My husband does function fairly well. But eventually he too will fall into 'slippage'. 

How invisible are the elderly and infirm. 
Yet how delightful they still are.

And when is it my turn?
I mean, I can't help but wonder, right?

When it is over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
~~ Mary Oliver

I have a collection of her works handy with sticky notes from something I find each time I read through her different works. I mark the place and leave a short not as to how it feels to me.

So begs the question. Will I make an impression on this world? Or my small surroundings? And does it really matter in the end?

And do I really care? 
I go into 'Nature' at least once a day as I explained recently to an ex co-worker. 
I find a way to make 2 hours available to myself in the afternoon to go for a walk or hike. I do it for the fresh air and because for 2 hours I am not caring for another, or planning...

For two hours I am 'mind free' of distractions and have only perhaps Charlie and Sven to keep track of, where my next step is, rock hopping across the creek
listening to the song of the water over the rocks
discovery
wonder
life



Yes. I think that is what Mary Oliver found too. She had poetry to express herself in eloquent words.

I have the camera to express myself.


I think that is good enough.

I leave you with this excerpt from Mary Oliver's poem
1945-1985: Poem for the Anniversary

The way I'd like to go on living in this world
wouldn't hurt anything, I'd just go on
walking uphill and downhill, looking around,
and so what if half the time I don't know
what for--

And I think that sums it up perfectly.