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Favorite Fall Is in the Air!

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In my last post I wrote about spring and summer (“Summer is icumen in”).  Perhaps it is appropriate that I focus on fall and winter for this blog!  I should call this post “Winter is icumen in.”  Today is the … Continue reading →

A Nocturnal Visitor

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We have a big bay window in our bedroom.  This area doesn’t get much direct sunlight so the snow really stays and is quite deep!  When I look out the window at the woods and snow, I am always reminded of one of my favorite Robert Frost poems, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.”  

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here
To see his woods fill up with snow. . . . 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

Friday night I turned off the light after reading in bed for a while.  Bill had dropped off, and Stella was sleeping on the floor under the window.  All of a sudden, the motion sensor light behind the house came on.  Since I was still awake, I hopped out of bed to see what triggered the light.  There he (or maybe she?) was, right outside our window.  A huge moose!  His coat was a beautiful shiny brown under the spotlights.   If the window had been open, I could have almost touched his back from inside.  

I quickly whispered to Bill, “Come here quick and look at this!  Hurry!”  About that time Stella woke up and, figuratively speaking, wet her little doggie pants!  Here was the evil moose-creature about three or four feet from where she had been peacefully sleeping.  Needless to say, she went ballistic.  We grabbed her collar to prevent her from trying to lunge against or through the bedroom window.

The moose turned his head and gave an irritated look back at the window, no doubt wondering what all the commotion was about!  He continued to walk slowly along the edge of the house and garage, utilizing the little path that Bill keeps stomped out in the snow.  Our satellite dish is on the roof on the back of the house, close to the bedroom window.  When the snow builds up on the dish and we start to pixelate and lose satellite signal, he heads out back with an extra long broom he rigged up to clear the dish. (Pixelate—isn’t that a great word?)

At this point our visitor made a right turn in front of the garage, out of our sight.  All three of us made a mad dash to the living room to look out of the front window.  There he was in the driveway! He walked over to Bill’s plow truck and checked it out and looked at the giant pile of snow from previous plow jobs.  Apparently, he decided it was too much work to try to go through the snow pile and ambled slowly up the driveway and out of sight.

We all headed back to bed with a bit of an adrenaline surge.  Stella, of course, immediately told me she wanted to go out in the back yard for a potty break.  Oh no!  I know what you want; you just want to run out back to the west side and see if you can see or smell the moose.  I don’t think so!  We have a seven-foot fence around the yard.  Does that tell you something?  On the west side of the property the seven-foot fence is reduced to about a four-foot fence due to deep, crusty snow.  The moose could have hopped over that in a flash.  The moose generally go down the easement on the west side, so I wasn’t taking any chances!

Interestingly, I had just mentioned to Bill the other day that we hadn’t seen the moose lately.  I guess I jinxed it!  Now I am back to peering apprehensively into the woods every time we take a walk.  I suppose I could take my pistol, but that is a challenge too.  (Yes, I am one of those people with a concealed carry permit!)  If I put it in my pants pocket, the weight practically makes my pants fall down.  I guess I could get a holster or something, maybe a nice tooled leather with fringe, just like I envisioned as a little kid, but not sure how that works with a semi-automatic pistol. 

We don’t hunt or shoot things, but I have had hunters tell me that it takes a really high-powered rifle to take down a moose.  My little pistol would probably just be like an irritating little gnat.  The $64,000 question (anyone besides me old enough to remember that old TV show?) is if I fire my pistol, would it scare him off or piss him off? I’m not sure want to do a trial run on that.  As always, life in the mountains is never dull!

©Eclectic Grandma, 2020

If you’d like to look at last week’s blog, “Musings on the Coronavirus and Stephen King,” just high the back arrow at the beginning of end of this post.  Thanks!

Musings on Coronavirus and Stephen King

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As the fear of the coronavirus drives people into an orgy of buying, hoarding, and generally acting rude and panicky, I can’t help but be reminded of my favorite Stephen King novel, The Stand.  With the world’s economy slowing down drastically and businesses, restaurants, and sporting events shutting down voluntarily or mandatorily, it might just be a good time to curl up with a good book!  If like me, you first read The Stand many, many years ago, it might be time for a reread of the new expanded version of the book which adds an additional 400 pages to the original 800 plus pages.  If you’ve never read it, now is a great time as we all hunker close to home for the next couple of weeks.

Without divulging too much of the story, The Stand is an epic tale about how a man-made plague or virus of some kind wipes out most of the human race as well as most of the animals. A small group of survivors make their way to Boulder, Colorado to begin life anew.  Boulder is a scant 25 miles from where we live today!  One of the few animal survivors is an Irish Setter.  You know how I love my Irish Setters!

Most people don’t know that Stephen King and his wife Tabitha lived in Boulder for a while in the 1970’s.  A trip to the spooky and supposedly haunted old Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado provided the inspiration for my second-most favorite Stephen King novel, The Shining.  If you haven’t read the book, you have probably seen the scary movie version with Jack Nicholson.  Even today the Stanley touts Room 217 where Stephen and Tabitha stayed on their visit, and of course, you can take one of the Ghost Tours if you like!

We lived in Bangor, Maine for four years in the early 1990-s when I was a senior executive at the medical center there.  A good friend of ours lived across the street from the Kings and was a good friend of theirs as well.  We had the opportunity to meet them socially on a few occasions at his house.  Stephen always seemed somewhat quiet and reserved.  I remember Tabitha wearing high top button style boots and their daughter having long straight hair.  Remember Elvira, the hostess on the late-night movies?  The whole family was very pleasant, but somewhat reminiscent of the Addams Family.  Our friend had twin sons, and according to him, his sons provided Stephen with the inspiration for his novel, The Dark Half.  I can’t vouch for that, but interesting!

The King’s home is large Gothic-looking old house; it reminds you a bit of the House of the Seven Gable by Hawthorne!  The property is surrounded by a black wrought iron fence adorned with gargoyles, bats, and metal spider webs.  I suspect it was always a favorite stop for the neighborhood kids on Halloween!  Stephen and Tabitha, who is a very talented novelist in her own right, have always been always great philanthropists for the community.  They have funded ball fields, community libraries, and supported the hospital very handsomely!

Our sons mostly grew up in Greeley, Colorado during the ‘80’s where I was a senior-level executive at the hospital and Bill was the Graduate Dean at the university there.  Thinking about Stephen King reminds me of a humorous story.  Late one evening, our older son, Chris, was lying on the sofa in our basement rec room reading Salem’s Lot, not a book to read by yourself late at night!  Bill and I, of course, had already gone to bed since we have always been the early-to-bed types.  Younger son, Greg, had been out with some friends and forgot his housekey.  Seeing the basement light on, he tapped on the window right by the sofa where his brother was reading.  With that tapping Chris jumped several feet into the air!  If his hair wasn’t already light blond, it probably would have turned white on the spot.  If you have read Salem’s Lot, you know exactly what I’m talking about, and if not, I won’t spoil it for you!

Anyway, back to The Stand.  Some of the survivors of the plague head from Boulder to a dark and deserted Las Vegas for a final dramatic confrontation between the forces of Good and Evil.  Think something along the lines of Lord Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita.  Interestingly, our younger son Greg and his wife were in Las Vegas this past weekend for their annual trip to the PAC-12 basketball tournament, which ended up being canceled of course   They said Vegas was pretty quiet with more and more of the hotels, restaurants, and casinos shutting down over the coming days, leaving a dark and deserted Las Vegas.  Sound familiar?

Let’s all hope that Stephen King wasn’t too prophetic in The Stand!

©The Eclectic Grandma, 2020

Close Encounters of the Moose Kind

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After dinner last Friday evening,  Stella was pestering so I thought I would take her for a quick little after dinner walk. It was dusky, but still light out.  I  took her for a short stroll up the driveway.  We went up the drive and down the road a short way and were cutting through the woods right behind our bedroom to go home, a really brief little evening walk.

 Suddenly Stella froze and started to growl and bark.  My first thought was that it was a squirrel or even a coyote.  Then I looked, and there they were!  A moose cow and calf, about 40’ feet away. Now to put this in perspective, the baby, the calf, was about the size of a quarter horse, and Mom was about the the size of a Clydesdale but with skinnier legs.

We live in a heavily wooded area, primarily the tall, lanky Lodgepole Pines. With snow on the ground, it is very difficult to distinguish between dark tree trunks and those black moose legs! Your eyes and your imagination can play tricks on you. Is that a moose or just a tree swaying in the wind?

Now there are a few basics about moose that you need to know:

1.  They are really big!
2.  They  (thankfully) have bad eyesight.
3.  They hate dogs!  They are pretty stupid, and their only natural predator is the wolf.  They wouldn’t know the difference between a wolf and a Corgi, let alone an Irish Setter!
4.  Momma moose are very protective of their young and VERY aggressive, even for babies who are almost as big as they are!  In fact, they are just plain mean to everyone and everything.
5.  Did I mention that they are VERY big?

So, to continue, Stella started barking, and both moose headed toward us.  Time to retreat!  Pardon my French, but I about you-know-what in my pants!  I grabbed Stella and started a retreat!  She managed to wrap her leash around a little tree!  Oh shit!  I get the leash unwrapped from around the tree.  I  didn’t even bother with the retractor on the leash, just wrapped it around my hand and headed down the slope behind the house.  The moose kept coming!  Heart rate increasing — 100, 120, 150!   I yelled for Bill, but inside the house, he couldn’t hear me!

Stella,  in a rare stroke of doggie wisdom, stopped barking and stayed as close to me as possible as we quickly headed down the slope behind the bedroom, around the garage, and to the front door.  I think she realized this was no laughing matter!  The moose finally decided that checking out things to munch on was more interesting than following us further!  Thank God!

Have to admit, I was feeling pretty trembly when we got into the house.  I saw my life  flashing before my eyes!  A few years ago a couple of women about five miles from us who were walking their dogs in the morning were attacked.  They ended up in ICU, and one died, so I have a very healthy respect for these vile creatures! 

I must have been as white as a ghost because Bill quickly asked me what was wrong.  We all three rushed into the bedroom and looked out the window.  There they were!   These photos were taken from the relative security of the bedroom window.  Guess I need to start carrying my pistol!  

Since this little episode, Stella and I both peer into the woods around us when we walk just in case our little visitors might be lurking there in the trees. As I think back on this rather frightening episode, I think that Stella’s barking definitely caused the moose to head toward us, but at the same time if she hadn’t alerted me, I could have just unwittingly triggered their wrath without warning. Oh well, such is life in the Colorado mountains. It’s pretty bad when a bear or a mountain lion seems like a less scary option!

©The Eclectic Grandma, 2019

Clutter and Procrastination

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Clutter and procrastination.  Procrastination and clutter.  One leads to the other in a never-ending loop, sort of like a mobius circle.  As we move forward into another new year, I have one over-riding resolution.  I am once and for all … Continue reading →

Favorite Pro-Choice or Pro-Life?

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Those of you who know me know that I am definitely a conservative and not afraid to tackle controversial types of issues! With that disclaimer out of the way, I have to say that I am very much Pro-Life. Do I think that Roe versus Wade should be turned over? No, I really don’t. That could create a much worse situation than what we currently have. We certainly don’t want to return to the era of back alley abortions. There are certainly situations where I can understand that a woman might opt for an abortion, such as fetal demise in utero or congenital anomalies incompatible with life. What I object to is the routine use of abortion as an accepted means of birth control. 

Let’s look at a couple of scenarios. We have a young mother-to-be just starting her 24th week of pregnancy. She and her husband are so excited. They’ve just decorated the nursery and recently learned the sex of their baby. To her dismay, she begins having contractions, and it soon becomes apparent that this little one is not going to wait another 16 weeks to make his arrival! He arrives weighing a scant 1000 grams and easily fits into the palm of your hand. He is quickly admitted into the NICU, the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, which will be his home for the next several months. Unlike many of the other nursing units in a hospital, the NICU is a quiet place, with lights dimmed and where everyone speaks in hushed tones. The new little arrival is soon safely ensconced in an isolette in a temperature- and humidity-controlled environment with many tubes and monitors all around his tiny little body. All external stimulation is kept to a minimum.

Mom visits every day to monitor the progress of her precious little one. She carefully pumps breast milk several times a day to provide her own special nutrients to the infant. He is too young to even have a suckling response, so he receives this vital Mother’s milk via a feeding tube. Imagine her excitement when he is finally big enough to come out of his little womb-like environment for a few all too brief moments, and she can at last hold him in her arms! In several months, he is finally the size of a normal full-term infant, and Mom and Dad get to take him home. Most of these little preemies grow into normal children and adults and are able to lead a full life without any lingering effects from their early arrival into the world. Many NICU’s hold an annual Celebration of Life where all of their “Graduates” return for a big gathering! They may range in age from toddlers to elementary age children to high schoolers. What a tribute to the capabilities of modern medicine!

Meanwhile across town another pregnant young woman glances at her watch and hurries to her own appointment with fate. She too is almost 24 weeks pregnant, but for her there is no eager anticipation, only an eagerness to be rid of this unwanted burden on her life. She has been reassured that this is not a viable baby, only a growing cluster of tissue. She hurries into the waiting room and is admitted. She is given sedation, some anesthesia, and soon leaves the facility, no longer pregnant.

I do think that Planned Parenthood should change its name to Unplanned Parenthood. Planned parenthood implies that a pregnancy is wanted and desired. Last I heard, despite the plethora of gender “choices” we continue to hear about, most of which I cannot fathom, the creation of new life still takes a biologic male and a biologic female, a sperm and an ovum. A pregnancy should not just be the result of a careless moment. If Planned Parenthood put half of the energy into teaching about responsible birth control methods that it puts into promoting its abortion mills, much of the problem would be resolved. There are also so many couples out there with empty arms who would welcome the chance to give a loving home to these unwanted little ones.

You have to wonder about the values of a society where in one instance we joyously spend thousands and thousand of dollars to save a cherished little life and in another instance we cancel out a similar little life without a second thought.

About twenty years ago I worked with an excellent Perinatologist. A Perinatologist is a physician who has done a four-year residency in Obstetrics and Gynecology followed by a three-year Fellowship in Perinatology. These physicians take care of high-risk mothers and fetuses during the period of pregnancy and birth. This doctor and I became good friends. One day she sadly and bitterly told me her story. Early in medical school she had become pregnant and had chosen to have an abortion. She finished medical school, her internship, and her OB-GYN residency. During that time period she married, and she and her husband very much wanted to have a baby, but sadly she was never able to conceive again. She said that her own inability to have a baby was what pushed her into the field of Perinatology. I certainly don’t know why she was never able to have a second pregnancy. I’m sure being a part of the medical community, she got excellent care during her own abortion all those years ago.

I do think we are all born with a little touch of the divine in us, what you might call the God Spark. I can only trust that all of these lost little ones are indeed returned to their Father above. William Wordsworth said it so much better than I ever could in “Intimations of Immortality,”

But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

©The Eclectic Grandma, 2018

A Gentle Soul

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A couple months ago I told you about our painful loss of our little Mandy. Last week we relived that pain once again with having to help our Caley over the Rainbow Bridge. For the first time in many years, … Continue reading →

Happy Birthday, America

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  Today is a great day to reflect a bit on this incredible nation of ours.  For many people today is just a day off from work, a time to light the grill, chug a few beers, and maybe watch … Continue reading →

Favorite Old Dogs: A Tribute to Mandy

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“Heaven’s the place where all the dogs you’ve loved come to greet you.”
                                                                                           Unknown Author

One of the most difficult things any pet owner has to deal with is the loss of a beloved pet. When we get a pet, whether from a rescue shelter or from a reputable breeder, we should make a commitment to be there for the duration of its life. Nothing appalls and angers me more than the despicable people who turn old, senior dogs and cats into a shelter just because they are old. Dogs are not throw-aways like some kind of worn-out stuffed toy! Old dogs are just like old people. They suffer from arthritis and various aches and pains; they may develop chronic diseases; the hearing and the eyesight may dim; and sometimes incontinence shows up! That adorable puppy grows into the sleek, mature adult who then morphs gradually into the senior with a white muzzle.

My Stick!!

The decision of whether or not to euthanize a pet is truly the most awesome decision a pet owner will ever have to face. I deliberately use the term awesome, not in the trite, banal way it is used today, “You look awesome!” “That outfit is awesome!” Rather, I use it with the true definition of the word, meaning full of reverence, awe, and wonder. The question that haunts us is how will I know when it is “time”? There is no simple, easy answer for that question. Basically, it comes down to objectively determining the pet’s quality of life. Can she get up and walk by herself? Is she still eating and drinking? Does she still seem to be enjoying life or is she slowly withdrawing from the things she once enjoyed?

I worked as a Hospice nurse for several years and saw way too many deaths. What I have seen, both with human patients and with our pets, is a calm acceptance of death and a waiting for the end to come. With my human patients, all we could do was try to ease their pain and wait until it was their time to cross over to the Other Side. With our pets we can help them over that insurmountable border, something we cannot do for our human loved ones. This is such a huge responsibility!

Is dinner ready yet?

Sadly, last Friday we faced this heart-breaking decision with Mandy, one of our two Irish Setters. She was a beautiful girl; her Mom and Dad were both Grand Champions. The breeder tried to convince us to show her, but that wasn’t a life we wanted for her or for us. You may recall that in October 2016 I wrote a piece about her health issues in “Blind Dogs See with Their Hearts.” Her diabetes had remained in fairly good control, but the huge benign tumor in her leg finally grew too severe and impaired her ability to walk on her own. Now, we were more than willing to continue helping her get up and move about, but I think she just gave up and was ready to go. She stopped eating and was barely drinking. Being a nurse, I could see the signs of the body shutting down. So, with heavy hearts, we arranged for her to go to the Rainbow Bridge.

Our veterinarian came to the house. He was very caring and compassionate. She passed peacefully with no pain and didn’t even wake up during that final injection. After she was gone, he took her body with him to be cremated for us. Once they were gone, the three of us, her “sister,” Caley, Bill, and I were all in a state of grief and distress. Dogs know and understand when the life force leaves the body. You can tell that the other dog realizes that her lifelong buddy is gone. Saturday was also a tough day for all of us, our first full day without her. You find yourself second-guessing your decision. Should we have waited longer? Would she have gotten better? Even though you know the answer is no, you beat yourself up with all the what-ifs. I certainly didn’t want her to be in pain and suffer, but it was so very hard to let her leave!

Want me to put the clothes into the dryer!

Each day gets a little easier. We have made an extra effort to take Caley for more walks and outings with lots of extra treats. Then, when you least expect it, some little something reminds you of her, and the tears well up again. On Monday I was walking around, upstairs and downstairs, taking up the little scent discs that helped her navigate around the house. As I peeled them off of furniture and walls, thinking we don’t need these any more, my heart cracked a bit more! All of us who have lost a deeply loved pet have had moments like this, that sudden heart-wrenching memory of the little one who is no longer there with us.

I think each pet we lose to death takes a little piece of our heart along with it. I firmly believe that we will all be reunited one day, and all of those little pieces of our hearts will again be made whole. That may be why I like the analogy of the Rainbow Bridge so much. What could be more wonderful than being greeted by our loving pets, now healed and youthful again, when we too cross over that final Bridge!

Those Malamutes have nothing on me!

Well-meaning friends and relatives ask “When are you going to get another dog?” “You should get another one.” There is something about the loss of a dear pet that reminds us of our own mortality, especially as we get older. What if I should die before my pet? To me that is a totally distressing thought! When my Mother was close to death, her one over-riding concern was for the welfare of her two cats that she was leaving behind. Once my sister and I had them safely adopted into new forever homes, it was as if she breathed a sigh of relief and gave herself permission to move on to the next chapter. 

Mandy
2006 – 2018

Good-bye, little Mandy. To paraphrase Shakespeare a bit,

Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet Princess,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

 

 

 

©Eclectic Grandma, 2018

What Happened to Spring?

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This is definitely the year of the winter that wasn’t and the spring that isn’t!  Today is May 3, and it snowed all day.  Now the fog in the backyard looks like a scene out of “The Hound of the Baskervilles.”  The snow is starting to come down again.  Last night the weatherman said we could get 5 to 10 inches overnight and even more today.  Now wait a minute; what happened to spring?  We’re probably due for a couple more good snows this month.  I think for my next career I’ll be a weatherman, or weatherwoman as the case may be.  Of course, if I want to be totally PC, I would have to be a weather person.  What other job can you have where you can be wrong half the time and still keep your job?

Last week, I returned from a business trip on Wednesday night and told my husband that it was time to make some hummingbird nectar.  He told me that it was too early, but I said no, I have a feeling they’ll be here soon.  Sure enough, I made the hummingbird solution and put it in the refrigerator to cool.  The very next morning, I heard the distinctive whirring sound of hummingbird wings.  Hurriedly, I filled the feeder and hung it out on the deck.  There she was, happily sipping on her morning meal!

By the way, do you know how to make up the yummy solution for them?  Use a three to one ratio of water to sugar; in other words, one cup of sugar to three cups of water.  Heat to a simmer, just enough to totally dissolve the sugar.  There is no need for a full boil.  Once they figure out where the feeders are, you can actually move to a four to one ratio, but I confess that I indulge them and stick with the 3:1 all season!  Please, no red food coloring!  It is bad for them (and for us as well).  They’ll find the feeders!

On one memorable occasion, my sweet hubby mixed up some hummingbird solution while I was out of town.  I said to use a 3:1 ratio.  Unfortunately I did not specify that the 3 was water, and the 1 was the sugar.  He told me on the phone that it looked a little “thick.”  After a little further discussion, we determined what the problem was.  A little more hot water for a little more dilution soon corrected the problem!

People generally refer to the hummingbirds that we see in the summer months here in Colorado as ruby-throated hummingbirds, but in reality, the ruby-throats are rarely found in Colorado.  The ones we have are broad-tailed hummingbirds.  Like the ruby-throats, they have a red patch on the throat.  Now, I’m not quite enough of an ornithologist to details all the differences; I’ll  leave that to the experts!

A few years ago, on a trip to Curaçao in the Caribbean, we saw numerous brilliant royal blue and green hummingbirds whirling around everywhere.  I enjoy birdwatching in an amateur sort of way.  As best I can tell, what we saw were blue-tail emerald hummingbirds, but I certainly would not swear to that!

OK, back to the Rockies!  It snowed all day today, resulting in our biggest snow of the year, almost 20 inches.  This is that heavy wet, sticky spring snow, the kind that grabs your skis if you’re on the slopes and that your car doesn’t like to turn in.  The refrain you hear repeatedly around here, both from the newscasters and your friends and neighbors is that we need the moisture.  I can certainly accept that, but at the same time, I am ready to see my aspen trees show a few leaves and to see those first green shoots of the columbine and various other wild flowers.  At the same time, I really don’t mind these late spring snows.  They quickly melt away, and before long we’ll be enjoying those long, warm summer days!

©Eclectic Grandma, 2018