Saturday my daughter was still here and we hiked the smaller loop at Palisade. It is about 3.5 miles. Coming down, the soundtrack in my brain was “She’ll be Coming Around the Mountain”. I did not sing it to my daughter. One person with an earworm is enough!
My brain definitely plays music. I’ve had 24 years in Rainshadow Chorale and hope for quite a few more. Sometimes in clinic, quite inappropriate music plays. Everything from children’s songs to Bach to Blues, Rock and Punk and various oddities.
I wrote this poem about my father at least a year before he died. He was on oxygen, on steroids, terrible emphysema from 55 years of unfiltered Camel cigarettes. He would not accept much help and became more and more of a hermit. He did continue with the Rainshadow Chorale and because of it he quit smoking three years before he died.
Frail
We are going sailing My partner says to me “Invite him if you want.”
Then I am busy for a while
I think of calling, then forget
He was not at chorus on Monday
At last I say, “I haven’t called. We’ll just sail. Just us today.”
I haven’t called because he was not at chorus on Monday
He is frail 55 years of camels two packs a day as if each cigarette destroyed one alveolus in his lungs one tiny air/blood interface built to exchange oxygen and carbon dioxide the loss is cumulative
He is frail he is proud that the choral director says, “I need you.” He can’t sustain but his entrances and time are the best among the basses. They need him.
Chorus is our winter link two introverts we hug at the start of chorus sing for two hours and talk for a few minutes at the end
Occasionally we go for a beer I invite him for dinner but he comes less and less he often does not feel well at night
He looks smaller at chorus this season this is normal in emphysema the body sheds weight too much tissue to oxygenate too hard for the lungs and the heart, working overtime to make up the difference he is blessed with low blood pressure genetic, from his father, tough English stock, otherwise I think he’d be dead
I didn’t call before we went sailing because I am afraid
I’ve driven out before when he has not answered the phone for a day or two wondering if I would find him dead
I didn’t call before we went sailing because he was not at chorus on Monday because if he didn’t answer today I would not go
On Saturday I spent the day at the Palisade Bluegrass and Roots Festival, hearing band after band. The crowd got bigger and bigger, listening to the bands. We had a pretty jumbo crowd by the time the last band started up. Lots of fabulous music and a happy crowd of all ages.
I am practicing the soprano part of the Brahms Requiem to sing in early May.
The second movement is amazing. It is in 3/4 time, waltz time, but slowed to a dirge, a march, a crawl. And by adding movement on the last 16th note in a three beat sequence, so the 11/12 beat, it sounds threatening and frightening. It builds and builds and then quiets, only to build again. It is terrifying. What an amazing piece of music!
And the words, too. “For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away.”
At last it opens into a fugue and glory, but still with intensity. “But the word of the Lord endureth forever. And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” There is still the undertow of grief and confusion and fear.
The building is at Fort Worden and is certainly falling away.
My cousins sent me a packet of letters. Some are from my mother to her mother, but this one is from… well, see if you can guess.
Dear Mother and Father,
We got in the car and Grandfather and me sat in front and Grandmother sat in back. Grandmother said, “Do you want your window closed?” and I said, “No.” Then, in a few minutes after that I said, “I am getting kind of chilly.” Then in a few minutes after that I tumbled over the back of the seat into the back seat. Then I shot my pistol out the window and tried shutting it again but it wouldn’t go. Then I waited awhile and then I shot off my pistol again and it worked. Then I shot off my pistol again in a few minutes after that but somehow it didn’t work. And then after awhile it started raining.
Then we got home. After a little while Eva May came over. Then after awhile Jimmie came. Jimmie brought over his gun with him. He had a long gun.
After supper I took my sparklers over to Jimmy’s and Eva May’s house. They invited me over before supper and then I started lighting my sparklers. I lit one after another and in a few minutes I said, “I’ll go over and get my pistol,” so I did.Then I went back for awhile and then I came home and stayed and we had the rest of my sparklers in the house. And then we all went to bed pretty early.
This is postmarked July 6, 1932 Decorah, Iowa. It cost .03 cents in stamps to mail. It was sent to Mrs. Temple Burling, 3434 Arden Ave, Hollywood, Illinois. The handwriting is quite beautiful. The letter is signed “Bobby” in quite different handwriting. The letter was sent from “Bobby” — Robbins Burling, age 6,as the narrator, with one of his grandparents transcribing to his mother (my grandmother) Mrs. Temple Burling (Katherine White Burling). I think it is a charming letter and so like a kid, with the repeats: “and then in awhile”. I am going to send it to “Bobby’s” grandson, who now has a child of his own. Here is the rest:
In the morning I got up and got dressed. Before I got up I was real quiet because I thought they were asleep because they were so quiet and they thought I was asleep because I was so quiet. Then finally they came past the door and when I knew – it they were awake – and they knew it – I was awake. And then I got up and got dressed.
Then after breakfast Grandmother and me went out and weeded. In a few minutes I said, “I’ll get the hay off the lawn for you.” so I did. I told her if she thought it was worth a penny and Grandma said, “Yes.” And then I said, “Do you think it’s worth any more than a penny?” and Grandma said “Yes.” In a few minutes we came in and she gave me a cent.
I left the penny in my hand and Jimmie came over and called me and we decided that we would make giant fingers and then as we were making giant fingers we decided we would make funny masks but we didn’t. We decided to make Chinamen’s hats but we didn’t.
Jimmie wore his hat in a funny pointed way and I wore mine with a round hole in the middle and kind of crooked too. And we went out to scare the girls and at first we didn’t scare girls but we scared Jimmie’s mother and we didn’t scare the girls after all. He went out to scare a man and he told me he’d be back and I got an idea while he was gone but he didn’t appear.
And then we went out and did some errands – got some peanut butter and then went to the library to see if they had any Dr. Doolittle books and they did. At first they asked if we’d read Dr. Doolittle at the Circus and I said, “I have.” and they put that back and looked some more and found another and asked me about that and it was called Dr. Doolittle and the Movie. Then at night Grandma read me some. We read part of it while I was in bed and then I started talking to Sixen and fell asleep finally and work up next morning. Then we had breakfast and I raked some more and I got another penny.
New Year’s Eve was a travel day for me, flying from Dulles to SeaTac. This time my checked bag came along and did not divert to party in Chicago, as it did on the trip out. I had a wonderful two weeks in Arlington, Virginia and Rockville, MD with old friends and my son and daughter-in-law and daughter. Very kind friends picked me up at SeaTac and drove me the two hours home. I slept for three hours on the plane and another hour in the car. The pair of socks on yesterday’s Ragtag is for one of the two people who picked me up.
The plane was about 40 minutes early and the airport was impressively empty. There was some traffic on I5, but it was not crazy. There was quite a bit of fog all the way home.
Yesterday morning we went to the climbing gym for the second time in the two weeks. I had not climbed in maybe three years? And I have never done a lot.
The rest of my family climbs like squirrels and spiders. I currently climb more like a panicked sloth, but I did a 5, a 5.6 and a 5.7 the first day. Yesterday I planned to take it easy, but I roped up for one and it was the wrong one, so I tried a 5.8. My family was clambering up 5.11s. Whew. It was really fun and loads of fun to watch them. And hurrah that I can climb some after Long Covid and two years with unhappy muscles!
I dressed up in November for the Chamber of Commerce masquerade. This is a 1920s dress and I had to repair the lace around both arm openings. The underdress is rust colored silk and is beaded. The overdress is lace with the beaded and fringed flower with a tassel on the side. The lace is definitely see through and I wore a slip. The silk underdress has beaded squared off tags that hang outside the lace, which is a detail I haven’t seen before. I do not remember where I got this, second hand.
When the silk is nearly 100 years old, it wants to fall apart. I took a second dress just in case there was dancing. If I danced in this dress, it would probably disintegrate.
In other news, here is an article about the Post Covid exercise intolerance. It is a small sample size, but they biopsied skin and muscle in people who were still exercise intolerant one year out from Covid 19. These people all had Covid-19 in 2020, so unimmunized.
“Compared to two independent historical control cohorts, patients with post-COVID exertion intolerance had fewer capillaries, thicker capillary basement membranes and increased numbers of CD169+ macrophages. SARS-CoV-2 RNA could not be detected in the muscle tissues. In addition, complement system related proteins were more abundant in the serum of patients with PCS, matching observations on the transcriptomic level in the muscle tissue. We hypothesize that the initial viral infection may have caused immune-mediated structural changes of the microvasculature, potentially explaining the exercise-dependent fatigue and muscle pain.”
This is a big deal. More needs to be done to confirm this, but a talk earlier this year said that the muscles don’t get adequate blood flow and get hypoxic and that the fatigue is recovery afterwards, taking 1-3 days. That is the best hypothesis for why people have the activity “crashes” after exercise or doing a little bit more than usual. My chronic fatigue shuts my fast twitch muscles down when I have pneumonia. This time it was two years before I got them back and I still have to be careful. It’s weird when they won’t work. It’s like the muscles go on strike. They didn’t really hurt (ok, they burned like strep throat all over the two times I had systemic strep A) but it’s more like the muscles are screaming NO NO NO NO! at the brain. It is hard to describe. If I tried to push, it felt like dying. Perhaps the muscle cells really DO start dying if we push them too hard. Mine is annoying but it doesn’t confine me to bed. My slow twitch muscles were fine though this time I needed oxygen. I hope not to experience it again.
This is the mask I wore. Nice to be in a different sort of mask, but I masked at a concert last night and will mask for travel with an N95.
Both of my children play violin and I play flute and then my daughter starts viola in ninth grade and you start with a small one. We had multiple cases that were falling hazards and tripping hazards. What to do with them?
Our solution years ago: my daughter and I take a violin in its’ case to the Antique Company in Hadlock. The owners import furniture from England. We walk around and try fitting the violin case in to the tall cases until we find the right one. Hooray! The violins and small violas and flutes and quena and ocarinas and dulcimer are contained! And now my office medical books that I kept reside on the lowest shelf and I still pull them out.
Discover and re-discover Mexico’s cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - Flüchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflüchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
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