May 10, 2018
Our resident geese who have made their summer home at the
pond across the road are happy once again.
The heavy equipment moved in by a road crew hired by Virginia DOT has
left after two weeks of beating back the earth so that drivers can see better
as they navigate these twisted mountain roads.
Now the geese can go through their day undisturbed except for the
occasional argument they have with one another. The same is true for Mike and
I. It feels like a sense of peace has
been restored. I hated the constant
noise of the machinery beating against the rock and the fact that the flagman obstructed
my view of the geese. The deer are
coming back to the stream to drink now that the noise has died down. The birds are active, multiple “hummers”
coming to the feeder, and a variety of birds eating the food I keep stocked for
them. A brilliant cardinal, a pair of indigo buntings, and many varieties of
which I am not familiar. I have seen
more pileated wood peckers here than anywhere else I have been. I finally found where the Phoebe birds have
built their nest. Last year it was under
window eave but the spot this year is much better for them and for us. I won’t be able to view the babies as well,
but they are tucked up under the porch on a nice sturdy beam in a spot where
the weather will not get to them.
We always plan to “leave early” from Staunton and it never,
ever happens. There’s always too much
going on there and it feels like such an effort to finally get away. Mikes phone rings non-stop when we are there
and it feels like I can never even finish a thought when trying to talk to him
because he interrupts me to answer the phone once again. I, on the other hand, will usually have a
child on my shoulder or clinging to my legs, so I really can’t be too hard on
him because I am not very accessible either.
This trip the car was filled with a bag of dirt, a four-foot fence gate,
and jars of milk to feed the chickens.
It’s a good thing we didn’t need much in the way of personal items
because there wasn’t much room for that.
We have very little time this week before going back to Staunton for
Analia’s ballet recital on Saturday. We
have averaged about two to three days in one spot before turning around and
going back to the other recently. By
coming back to Laurel Fork on Tuesday evening, we were able to stretch the time
a little bit, but we are still running the roads this week, and depending on
when we leave to go back will have three to four days in Laurel Fork. We don’t need to be back to Staunton until
Saturday afternoon, however, Virginia Tech is having graduation this weekend
and we anticipate traffic being horrendous on Interstate 81. We have not yet decided if we will drive
middle of the night on Friday to avoid the chaos, taking alternate side roads,
or allowing extra time on Saturday to drive the Blue Ridge Parkway. My vote is the Parkway.
The good news is we were able to immediately settle into a
peaceful home here in Laurel Fork when we arrived and get to work. Priority was
the yard which although it had not been a full week since we had mowed, was
grown up like a jungle. The weather, so far, has been gorgeous which
has made it convenient to work outdoors.
After a good breakfast of eggs and sourdough pancakes with maple syrup,
we spent the entire day working outside on Wednesday. Between the two of us we got the yard mowed,
the flower beds cleaned out, some bushes transplanted, and a lot of board fence
built. At the end of the day it was so
nice to step back and look at the transformation. While the yard work is temporary, especially
with how quickly everything grows this time of year, it was still satisfying to
feel that good kind of ache of used muscles and the tiredness that comes after
exerting one’s self physically. Holding
the 16-foot board in place for Mike to mark and cut them and then again for him
to nail them in place on the fence is tiring as well, especially after so many
hours of it, but with each board in place, it is like another piece of the
puzzle. I often compare it to when I
piece together quilts. There are many
similarities and the piecing together of the board fence is perhaps even more
rewarding. We are actually talking now
of bringing down part of the cows. We
just need a few more good days like we had yesterday and it can be a
reality.
May 11, 2018
You might be a farmer if you plan your trips to town around
anticipated thunder storms.
First thing we did Friday morning was to check the hourly
weather forecast to see when it was predicted to rain. Predicting the weather anywhere can be tricky
but especially in the mountains where there seems to be a good many areas with
microclimates that don’t exactly cooperate with the official reports. Yesterday, however, we got pretty lucky. It appeared that we would have good weather
until late afternoon so we planned to work until somewhere around 2 or 2:30pm
and then head into Galax to get groceries, run some errands, pick up some
plants, and get my contacts that had been sitting at the office of the eye
doctor for over a month. (We typically
only go into Galax on Saturdays but the office is not open over the
weekend.) Mike trimmed the top of the
fence posts on the new fence, making them all look even and giving the fence a
nice finished look. He hung a gate and
then he got busy making a large raised bed.
He has planted 80 tomato plants, green beans, peas, lettuce, beets,
potatoes, etc in Verona at his mother’s place where he has planted garden all
his life. However, we really wanted to
be able to plant a few things in Laurel Fork this year. I’m glad he took the time to do it. It looks so nice and I think once he is used
to gardening this way, he will really enjoy the raised bed concept of
gardening. He finished the raised bed,
filled it with dirt, and got part of it planted yesterday. He worked until the last possible minute and
just about the time we both were cleaned up and ready to leave for Galax, a
storm blew in and it began to rain hard.
The timing for our trip to town worked out perfectly and for once, the
conditions actually coincided with the weather report for Laurel Fork.
I wanted desperately to be out doors yesterday morning but family
is possibly coming for a visit next week, I felt like I really needed to clean
the house. I am so lax about deep
cleaning anymore and the evidence of the Little People’s visit last week along
with smoke from the end of winter’s fire and the pollen from our spring that
finally sprung created a need that I could no longer ignore. I did a fair job moving furniture, dusting,
sweeping and mopping. There was no time
to go deeper by washing curtains and windows.
That will have to wait. I managed
to get downstairs finished which is where Mike’s mom will stay if she
comes. Mike and I will move to one of
the guest bedrooms upstairs. We already
use that bathroom because it is larger which will leave her the nice clean bath
downstairs by the “master” bedroom.
Being indoors on such a beautiful day was about more than I could
stand. I kept finding reasons to pop
outside for a few minutes. I really
wasn’t focused on housecleaning and was happy to at least finish up with
downstairs.
Most days now I need to leave off what I am doing multiple
times during the day to take phone calls regarding my grandma. In Laurel Fork, that is tricky because of our
poor cell phone service. Most of the
time my brother has to text me and ask me to call him back and I have to
intentionally find a spot where I can get a bit of service. That requires me sitting in one place and not
even turning my head once I have found that “sweet spot”. If I have time to plan, I will drive a couple
miles up the road to the Dollar General and sit in their parking lot where I
have decent service most of the time. If
the weather is nice, I can climb to the top of our property which is a pretty
decent hike and there I have good service.
Recently though Jimmy has been able to get through on Mike’s flip phone
most of the time and then I find a spot where I can sit and talk to him. Finding the best solutions for an aged family
member is so difficult. A year ago, I
was not prepared for how difficult and I guess I can in part thank those folks
that seemed like such a thorn in my side a year ago when they tried to “help”
my confused grandmother and at the very worst accused and at the very least
implied that the family was neglectful, pulling in the local preacher who went
right along with the plan to thwart the family involvement and set up secret
plans to “care” for our grandmother. At
the time, these perhaps well meaning (although I still question all their intentions)
meddling people felt like they were ripping my heart out with their
accusations, implications and subversive ways but the last year has made me one
tough cookie when it comes to standing up and fighting for a loved one and not
giving a damn what anyone else may think of our decisions to do what we feel is
best. And, due to the nature of Nan’s
condition, I have also had a year to accept that in her confusion, there will
never be a scenario that will bring her perfect peace because those days of
perfect peace are gone. That part of her
beautiful mind that always spoke peace to others and translated into the
perfectly calm, compassionate preacher’s wife has, ironically, been damaged and
the anxiety she faces daily is something we can try to ease but simply can’t be
taken away. Knowing this and accepting
this has given me the strength to move ahead in these most difficult days and
realize that any hurt, anger, confusion or disagreement she might express can’t
be helped and my task is to make sure she is physically safe. Currently, my role is supportive, as my
brother works on details there and we discuss things over the phone. Nan no longer wants to talk in the evenings
like we have done for the last five years.
She prefers to talk in the afternoons which cuts into my work and
requires me to find a place to sit and talk, but she is worth every minute and
I always make the time. Days are better
anyway. She is happier in the day and
not as confused. There are days she
calls me three or four times during the afternoon because she does not remember
that she has already called me. I just
repeat the conversation as if we have talked previously. The eight of this month marked the
anniversary of my Pa’s passing and I wondered if Nan remembered it. She did not mention it but then she probably
wouldn’t. She is from a different era
and she presented herself with such grace and dignity throughout her life,
perhaps trying to live up to her role as a preacher’s wife but in part I think
it was just her nature. One of our
relatives traced the family history back on Nan’s side of the family (her
paternal lineage) and found that the Armstrong family is linked to Scandinavian
royalty many generations ago. I have
always thought that my grandma carried herself with the dignity of a
queen. I think that gene must have
skipped me and I tend to be more like my Scots-Irish, mountain, ancestors on my
dad’s side of the family: clannish, passionate, with volatile emotions when repressed. On the other hand, I can’t help but wonder if
that precious mind of hers just had more than it could deal with anymore upon
my grandpa’s passing. She sat at his
memorial service posed and beautiful, a picture of perfect peace and never did
we see a tear fall from her eyes the entire time we were at the funeral home
for viewing or the grave side for the service.
She was dignified and gracious, greeting people, smiling and introducing
folks to one another. She had been the
same when my mother died so many years ago.
I am sure in secret she poured her heart out and released the pain, but
in front of the world she simply took over the care of her grandchildren and
kept smiling. But, she always had Pa and
he took care of everything for her, giving her everything she desired to the
best of his ability, and truly treating her like the queen she was in his
eyes. I will always believe that all
that pain she held inside did as much to cause her confusion as the aging
process.
Still we try to make grandma’s world the best it can be and
although we can’t indulge her quite like our grandpa did, we have a lot of help
from a community of people who make it possible, in spite of limited finances,
to make her as comfortable as possible both physically and mentally. Two of my paternal cousins have played a huge
role in this. My cousin Teresa who works
at the nursing home where Nan is receiving two months of rehabilitative therapy
gives Nan preferential treatment and is behind the scenes for us with the
doctors and nurses. When Nan doesn’t think she gets a fast-enough response
using her call button, she calls Jimmy at home and has him call Teresa at the
nursing home. Teresa tells everyone this
is “Her Nan” and although there is no blood relation, my grandma loves
that. I was the first to call her Nanna
and shorten it to Nan later, but the world is full of people who now call her
Nan and feel a bond with her like family. My cousin Lou, who has been Nan’s part time
care giver for over a year now, makes the trip to spend her days with Nan at
the nursing home four days a week. She
is able to take Nan outside to the courtyard, be with her for doctor’s visits,
take her around the home to visit with other patients, and just provide company
for her. Lou loves Nan dearly and has
known her since she was a teenager and attended the church on the mountain that
my grandpa pastored. Lou and my mom were
the best of friends during those teen years and Lou’s momma is my daddy’s
sister. In addition to Lou and Teresa,
dozens of people have been sending cards and there have been gorgeous bouquets
of flowers to brighten her room. Still,
even though we are doing the best we can with help from so many, grandma is
struggling not only with frequent confusion but also because the doctors have
told her that she is not going to be allowed to go home without 24-hour care
for the rest of her life. She told me
she is “disgusted”. I told her that I
would be disgusted too and that her feelings are valid and she needs to feel
free to express them at any time but that we were all working hard to make sure
that she was going to have the best care possible with the funds that were
available to us. I explained that we
were exploring options and didn’t quite know what the final decision would be
at this time, but that she didn’t need to worry about anything. We would take care of her. In the meantime, the nursing home where she
is currently taking rehabilitation tried to push us into committing her to stay
there once her rehabilitation is over. They
called and said they needed a decision “today” so they could apply for funding. Here is where the past year has made me savvy
and stronger. When Jimmy called a bit in
a turmoil feeling like we were being forced into making a decision without any
options, I told him to push back and tell them they didn’t need a decision
“today” and that we were not going to sign over her care to them as a result of
them forcing our hand. We have options
and we will explore them. After a few
phone calls, Jimmy had the support of the case worker from adult protective
services who used her position to get the nursing home to back off and provided
us with possibilities for assisted living rather than a nursing home. We will not be rushed to make a decision and
try to do the best that we can.
May 14, 2018
The last few days have been so full. I seem to say that a lot. Better, I say to know the fullness of days
than to feel like one is without purpose.
I wanted to finish cleaning the house on Friday but Mike asked if I
would help him work on repairing the barbed wire perimeter fencing. Neither of us like barbed wire fence. It is hard to work on and can really tear up
an animal that might unintentionally get caught in it. However, at this point, replacing the entire
perimeter fence is not an option for multiple reasons. Previously, I have helped with all kinds of
fencing except barbed wire. This was a
new experience for me. At first, I was a
little disappointed that I needed to be working on fence rather than accomplishing
some other tasks I would have liked to accomplished. However, once we got started, I realized it
was good for me to see just how hard of a job it was. The day was exceptionally warm for this time
of year. We found ourselves cutting back
a lot of growth on the fence, removing broken limbs and branches from the fence
line, trying to avoid the poison oak, and fighting the flies that were a
nuisance. A good portion of the fence in
on section was down completely. We worked all afternoon but we still need
several good days to dedicate to repairing the barbed wire fence before we can
consider it strong enough to hold in the cattle. It was
hard work and I was exhausted when we got back to the house a little after
five. I grabbed a glass of sweet tea,
sat on the porch and drank it, watching the humming birds for about ten minutes
before heading inside to fix supper.
Before working on fence, I had taken the time to plant some
herbs and flowers. I wanted to recreate
the look of an old, country porch. I
remember when I was a kid that the “old folks” often had their plants in whatever
containers they could find to put them in and would have them sitting around
the porch. The containers often included
old enamelware, tins, cans, buckets and bowls instead of flower pots. I began to rummage around looking for things
I could repurpose. I found vintage
buckets, a red trimmed enamel bowl, a fruit crate which I lined with an old
piece of burlap, and an old chicken waterer to name a few things. I also had set aside a wooden crate that was
used to ship a part for the loader. It
made a perfect raised bed for flowers. A
couple of old Luzianne tea tins I found
were rusted through the bottom but otherwise in fair condition and made the
perfect containers for some of my herbs.
The tins were decorated with Audubon bird photos and look perfect
sitting on the porch with a decorative bird house between them. Having just a few moments to get my hands in
the dirt as well as play with vintage cast away items that sparked a bit of
creativity was refreshing.
I fell in bed exhausted on Friday night and slept from 9:30
until 6:30 only waking up once around 4 am to walk around for a bit to try to
get some relief from my aching hip. That
much sleep at one setting is rare for me and it felt good to work to the point
of exhaustion and then sleep well.
There’s such a difference between physical stress and mental
stress. A good day of hard, physical
work is rewarding.
Saturday, we had to get things done so that we could leave
for Staunton. We had Analia’s recital at
2:30 but Mike also had to leave early enough to meet some folks who were coming
to look at equipment that we have for sale.
Mike decided just to take the interstate home, so after we made sure the
chickens had plenty of food and water, just in case we didn’t return for
several days, we watered the plants, loaded the car, locked up the house and
headed toward Staunton. Travel on the
interstate in rarely good, but it wasn’t quite as bad as the last few times we
have made the trip. Traffic was heavy,
but we kept moving, and we made it in reasonable time. I typically go straight to the barn when we
arrive in Staunton and check on my animals.
Afterwards, I go inside where I am attacked by the Little Girls. Mike went directly down to the family farm to
meet the folks who bought some equipment.
I brushed my teeth, ran my fingers through my hair, and Alissa and I
left early with the girls to get to the recital. I really didn’t think Mike would make it but
bought him a ticket and left it at the door.
I was really surprised when he made it just as the show was
starting. The program was done very well
and included multiple classes, ages, and degrees of talents. The youngest of the dancers were only 2
(almost 3) and the little ones were so cute in their dresses. All of the children did a great job, the
music was good, and the excitement of the children was contagious. We were so proud of Analia and how hard she
worked this past year and all the things she learned. It was an effort for us to be at the recital,
but I am so glad that we were able to attend.
When we got back to the house from the recital, I went
straight to the barn and milked the cows.
Shar still has blood in her milk and while I know this is not a big
deal, I have never had a cow whose milk persisted to be bloody for this long. It is simply broken capillaries (not
mastitis) and will clear with time but it is frustrating to have it continue
for this long. I simply discarded her
milk. I did milk Promise. I had just been letting the calf nurse her
because I didn’t want her to have reoccurring milk fever. I felt like her body had been given enough
time to achieve the balance she needed to ward off another episode. She gave me about a gallon of milk, which is
good considering we have not been milking her and the only grain she has had
was the few times she was in the stanchion since calving. She did well and her milk was good, mastitis
free, and that beautiful creamy color.
Alissa had made supper and we ate without Mike who had been
at the farm (his mom’s) all afternoon since we got back from the recital. I finally went to bed and he came in really
late, ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and went to sleep. He was able to get a good bit done in a short
amount of time, including getting his mom’s grass mowed. His nephew, Sam, came by and helped weed eat
and together they got things looking good there.
Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, I got up early and went to
check on the animals and give them food and water. Alissa, the girls and I went to her church
for a Mother’s Day breakfast cooked by the men.
It was good and I enjoyed visiting with some of the folks there. I will admit, by the time the breakfast was
over and Sunday School was beginning, my social skills felt taxed. I was feeling a bit out of place but it had
nothing to do with the people and everything to do with the fact that I was
ready to introvert.
After church, Mike milked the cows and I got our stuff ready
to leave. We had been in Staunton only
24 hours and it was time to head back south.
We had intended to stay a few days in the area, but the family decided
to get together at The Homeplace Restaurant in Catawba, VA to celebrate
Mother’s Day with Mike’s mom. Some of
the family wasn’t able to make the 1.5 hour trip but about 17 of us showed
up. It was a nice meal (homestyle
cooking and served family style in bowls that are passed around the
table). We had been there a couple of
times with Mike’s Dad and Mom when his dad was still living. From Catawba we were about an hour and a half
away from our home in Laurel Fork, so we decided to cut our trip to Staunton
short this time and just go on back to Laurel Fork rather than return all the
way back to Staunton only to come back to Laurel Fork again on Tuesday.
It was a lovely day and I was glad that it was busy. Mother’s Day used to be my favorite “holiday”
and I still love being celebrated as a mother and celebrating all the mothers
in my life. While I do well now on
Mother’s Day I am always very aware what a difficult day this is for so
many. I always think especially of those
I know who were not able to have children and who wanted babies so
desperately. I don’t know that kind of
heartbreak and cannot even begin to imagine it, but I have seen the difficulty
some of my friends have on Mother’s Day when their grief of not being able to
have children is compounded. Personally,
I am able to understand a different kind of grief, both the loss of a mother at
a very young age and the loss of a child when my child was just beginning his
adult life. There have been Mother’s
Days that I have not been able to get past the grief and have cried the whole
day. I am at a point in my life and in
my grief journey that the day is joyous again for me, but a piece of my heart
doesn’t forget the pain I feel and understand the pain of those who find the
day difficult to get through. I am glad
that we can celebrate each other as mothers and grandmothers and these kinds of
days are important to pause and be thankful for our blessings but it is
important to me to stop and consider those whose pain won’t allow them to enjoy
the day or who are still finding it difficult to do so. In addition, there are families so estranged
from one another, that the day is nothing but a reminder of all the pain of
what a relationship is supposed to be and what it is not. There are so many reasons why people have
difficulties with holidays and while I can have a day full of joy and
celebrate, I want to remember those who struggle. It helps me to find balance in life and I
suppose it somehow just my nature to always look at both sides.
Waking up in Laurel Fork on a Monday morning is strange to
me but it is good to see the sun come up over the mountains, hear the birds
chirping, and the Tom Turkey gobbling just outside our window. We slept with the windows open last night and
could hear the stream babbling outside our windows. The occasional car going down the road,
reminded us that we are not as remote as we would sometimes like to think,
bringing us back to reality and reminding us that life is not a utopia. There was a time in my life when I thought
(either by my own misconceptions or by things I was taught) that all the good
things were God’s blessings and the unfortunate things that happened came about
because God was trying to teach us a lesson.
As a kid, I wondered why God was so angry with me and thought I needed
to learn so much. Why was I so
incomplete that God had to take away my mother in order to “teach” me
something? Later as a young adult, I
wondered why after I had tried so hard and loved so much and lived in the way I
was taught by the church for so many years that my husband would abuse me
mentally and beat me down in the dust, flaunting other women in my face, and
demanding that my duty to God and my children was to take the abuse. Finally, when my son was taken from me in
such a violent manner, I reached the bottom, and I realized that all the things
that happened to me were not God trying to teach me something. (This doesn’t negate the fact that we can
learn something from every circumstance but I don’t believe God beats us over
the head to teach us something.) I came
to see God as Love rather than fear what He is next going to put on my plate. I came to see the terrible things that happen
in life as just “a part” of life in an imperfect world. Maybe I am simplistic but when one has been
beat to the ground with grief and disappointment and finds their way back to
love and hope, if it takes simple thinking, then so be it. On any given day, there are people filled
with joy and there are people filled with grief. Living in such a way that one is able to
recognize both and give grace when others are in a different place emotionally
than we might be, I believe, is learning to be a mature human being. Life is
hard but Love is always victorious.