Storm Clouds

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The Hospital Dog

I have been asked on more than one occasion why I never posted this story on my blog. A shortened and edited version appeared in The Observer column of the Arkansas Times the week before my dad died.

So, here is the original, unedited version, just as it was written on my laptop as I looked out of the hospital window on that February day, one week after my birthday and one week before my dad died. The edited version is prettier....but this is what spilled from my heart without a filter.

THE HOSPITAL DOG

By
BG WOODY
2-15-12




There aren’t many bright spots, sitting in a hospital room on cold dreary winter days, watching your father die by inches each day.

You might be lucky enough to get a cheerful nurse or aide who understands your plight, perhaps because she has been in the same place in her personal life. Or someone who has meaning to you might stop by to say hello. But they don’t stay long. The scene is just too gruesome and the sounds too haunting to tolerate if you aren’t deeply vested in the unfortunate situation.

So, day after day, I come to the hospital, sit in my dad’s room at a little desk by the window and read news on the computer or some story on my kindle, hoping I can escape for a few minutes from the living hell my father is trapped in at the moment.

The window in the room faces the entrance of the hospital so some days, I sit and watch people come and go. The ones coming in are usually slumped over either to shelter themselves from the wind or cold, or weighted down by the burden they are bringing in. The patients leaving are usually a bit happier, just thankful to be going home. On occasion, I will see a family leaving, so overwrought by the news they are trying to absorb, I want to run out and hug them and tell them that in time, things will work out as they are supposed to. But I don’t, because I know that could be me in a matter of days.

It was on one such gloomy day that I was looking out the window for something, anything that could distract me, when I began to pay closer attention to what I have now come to know as The Hospital Dog.

I had seen this stout little black and white dog around town on several occasions, always wondering why an owner would let him run lose that way. But after several days here at the hospital, I began to wonder if this was his home.

The Hospital Dog is here, every morning when I arrive. He usually lies in a patch of grass, waiting for hospital employees to walk across the street to a designated area off hospital grounds to smoke. He will accompany them and sit patiently, hoping for a pat on the head


or a treat of some sort. Even on the days when he gets neither, he sits like a gentleman guardian until his friends have used up their break time and go back to work.

I have seen him go up to groups of people, gathered around the entrance of the hospital, sit politely on the perimeter of the circle, just in case someone needs the comfort only petting a puppy can provide. He seems to know this. More often than not, he is ignored. The people leave in their cars and he goes back to his spot on the grass, waiting for his next mission. I have come to know him as the most welcome sort of minister…..there if you need him, not imposing if you don’t.

Having rescued dogs of my own, I understand their need for a grateful acknowledgement of their presence on occasion, so shortly after discovering The Hospital Dog, I began putting a bag of treats in my car for when I arrived and when I left the hospital. I know he recognized me as a person and not by my vehicle, because I drive two different cars, depending on the weather.

When I arrive in the hospital parking lot, I say “Puppy” in his direction. He bounds from his central location and comes to sit politely a few feet away so not to invade my space, but to let me know he is here for whatever I need. He always appears so grateful when I pull out the bag of treats and give him enough to sustain him through the morning.

I am told that some women buy him a hamburger in the hospital cafeteria at lunch time and the nurses bring him dog food and table scraps. He is such a gentleman; I know he shows the same gratitude for the scraps that he does for the burgers.

Most of the hospital employees I have spoken with about him adore him and think of him as their own. Several nurses have considered taking him home with them. Story has it that one sweet lady doctor has taken him home with her, twice, but he always finds his way back to the hospital.

Each day when I get up before daylight and get dressed to come sit with my dad, I have a sense of impending doom that sometimes overshadows my day. I can’t help it. Even though I had a tutorial in this, watching my mother die three years ago, I wasn’t a good student and the lessons I learn from that seem to escape me now. It is as though I am learning it all over again, knowing the final exam could be days away.

But at least now I know that no matter how difficult the day, how horrible the sights and sounds around me might be, I can walk out the door to the little grassy spot and there will be a black and white dog, waiting to let me know tomorrow is a new day and I must make the best of the challenge I have been given………just like he has done.

Pollen and Cement

The pollen is so thick here on the mountain, I feel like I am in a Yellow Wonderland. And not the beautiful buttery yellow color that is so soothing and comforting or the bright cheery yellow, the color of daffodils that always bring a smile. This is a sickening color, similar to what comes out of babies mouths. Just gross.

I just came back from feeding the fish in the pond and could hardly breathe. I pet my outside dogs and a cloud of yellow dust flies off their backs. I can't sit on any outdoor furniture without leaving a very unflattering imprint of my butt. But, such is Spring on the mountain in the middle of the forest. This will pass soon.

While my dad was sick, we had a lot of rain, hard rain that washed down the mountain in waterfalls, the force of it bringing dirt and debris along. It was during one of these rains that part of my 200 foot long retaining wall behind the house was knocked down.

Upon inspection by experts, it was found that the 50 year old wall was compromised in many places and couldn't be patched because eventually it would fall in other places. This is the wall that keeps the mountain from rolling down into the back of the house so fixing it or not wasn't an option.

So, once again within the past 12 months, I find myself in cohabitation with back hoes, mounds of dirt, rebar, giant concrete trucks and workers. The guys are kind enough to explain the process as we go and answer my endless questions about the hows and whys of the project. I am probably as annoying as a 5 year old boy would be watching the process, but they have been very kind and tolerant.

And I need to learn. Who knows when I might have to participate in this process myself. Stranger things have happened around here!

And So It Goes....

At a funeral recently, an old friend asked me why I had abandoned my blog. I got a little defensive and told her I hadn't abandoned it, I just hadn't posted in awhile. She pointed out that she missed reading about my adventures and misadventures while trying to make life work here on the mountain and she hoped I would consider sharing it again.

I guess when you are actually living it, it doesn't seem like finding a snake in your downstairs closet or a severed boars head on your doorstep (a gift from the dogs) is all that interesting. But maybe to my lovely lady friends who live in the city and have no idea what muck boots are or how to pull the lawn tractor out of a stuck spot with a chain and a 4-wheeler, it might bring a chuckle or two.

So, I apologize to anyone who might care that I have been absent from here, and will attempt to chronicle the events as they unfold around me as best as I can.

Most of my friends know this past year has been one of transitions for me. It was hard for me to write about things I didn't fully comprehend, much less, try to explain them to others.

This past year, I have lost some people in my life, but I have also gained some new ones. The circle of life continues for me...and I am so grateful for that.

While Still in my PJs....

Just in case there may still be a few of you out there who might think I live a charmed life, I wanted to share with you how I began my day on this beautiful Saturday morning.

Clouds

As the sun was coming up this morning and I took Bob the Beagle out to potty, it was impossible to ignore the thick blanket of clouds that hung above the little town below.

In the first photo, although it looks like the sun rising, actually it is a drop of moisture that had fallen on my camera lens that I didn't notice until I saw the picture.

Peace to all!

Baseball in Central America

It is 109 in my little piece of the world. The heat index is around 117. I have no words to say for any of this because like everyone else who lives here, I do not understand it and find myself wondering how we, our animals and livestock can continue to survive in conditions that are so foreign to our nature.

So, rather than whine about something of which I have no control, I shall share Dennis' recent trip with you. Enjoy the brief escape.

Dennis just returned from a trip to Nicaragua.

Like many other countries in Central and South America, it has a lush green landscape with breath taking ocean and mountain views. Above is a picture of the volcano near Managua.

The country has beautiful resort areas, and areas of dire poverty. He saw people sleeping on the sidewalks, with the fortunate ones building shelter out of any scrap objects they could fine.

But once he got to the ball park, he could have been in any city in the world. The kids, the excitement, the dedication is universal.

Kids swarming the Yankees scouts, wanting them to sign their caps.

A lone Nicaraguan player, coming to the stadium early to wait for his game.

Nicaraguan kids, excited to meet a Yankees scout. (Dennis is taking the picture. The scout in the picture is one of his translators)

End of the day.........

Reflections on the First Half of 2011

Now that we are well passed the halfway mark in 2011, I was thinking about what has happened so far this year.

Looking back through the blog, there was a lot of talk about the weather. Around here, that has been the focal point of most folks' lives. At the beginning of the year, we had a lot of snow and ice. Then came spring and we had an unprecedented amount of rain and several tornadoes. I will always remember this because for two months this Spring, a bull dozer sat in my yard. But it was only in operation about half of that time because the ground was so wet and the rainfall was so fierce.

Now we are in late summer and what we wouldn't give for some of that rain right now. Ponds are dry, lawns and fields are parched, and cattle prices are low because the market has been inundated with animals their owners can neither need or water.

I don't like the sound my boots make when I walk around the mountain. Each step I take is a constant reminder the grass is so dry and brittle, it breaks off down to the bare earth, leaving an ugly footprint in my wake.

This was the year we were to have grapes in the vineyard. It began very promising. Each row had an abundance of clusters and our mouths would water every day as we checked them and monitored the growth. Then the rains came and they stayed wet far too long. Mold and rot set in. We had hopes for the clusters that survived. Then the long hot dry summer came. Despite being watered every evening around sunset, many of the survivors simply burned up and shriveled on the vine. At the moment, the Cynthiana is hanging on. But I have learned not to be too optimistic when it comes to things controlled by weather. We are definitely not in control. I have realized this year I could not be a farmer...the uncertainty it just too much for someone like me with an overly-controlling personality. I have no control over this at all and it frustrates me. But.....there is always next year!

Despite the weather, some wonderful things have happened this year. We have made a lot of progress on the mountain. Our mission to tackle a major project each year (we are eight years in now) is rolling along. Because we chose outside projects this year instead of inside ones, the work we have done is more obvious.

We cleared some unusable land, built a pond (now we need rain!), and are almost finished with the outdoor kitchen and fireplace. We see deer almost nightly now in front and they are mesmerizing to watch. We are hoping the pond will be a water source for all types of wildlife, but because of the lay of the land, we can't actually see in it from the house, so the creatures who need to bathe or drink or just cool off will have an element of privacy.

Dennis has traveled the world this year with his new job. He has gone to places we might not have initially considered as travel destinations, but after being there, he always found something unique and interesting, and with the exception of the very dangerous environment in Venezuela, he would look forward to returning to each country.

So far, this has been an eventful year. I am hoping to have the projects finished by Fall, and Dennis home a wee bit more so we can enjoy them. We live our lives in increments......he will be home 3 days on the 10th, 2 days on the 25, etc. We have to pack everything into these tight containers of time, but we have been doing this for so long, we know no other way. I guess our "normal" is like everyone else...........it's what you become accustomed to.

I look forward to the Fall, my favorite time of year, and what it holds for us all.

Best wishes to you and yours!

Families on the Mountain

We are not the only family living on this 22 acre mountaintop plot of land.

Most evenings, usually between 7:00 and dark, another family comes out of the shelter of the deep woods to visit the salad bar that is the freshly planted grass on the cleared land in front of our house.

They seem to be getting braver as they spend more time in the open. I know they see me watching them from the upper deck, sometimes with a camera, but usually just in awe of their beauty and grace.

I wish they weren't so brave. They are in danger and don't realize it. There are people who live nearby who love guns and seem to love killing things. How someone could purposly take the life of something so beautiful and perfect for their own personal pleasure is beyond anything I can comprehend. It isn't a sport if the one being hunted can't shoot back.

So, I will protect these beautiful creatures as best as I can and hope the evil nearby can not see over the fence and find out find out they are here.

I am so grateful they let me look...........hope you are too!

Flowers

I have five good friends, scattered about the country, each of whom is a very gifted painter. I anxiously await emails containing their new work and I am always spellbound by their ability to take an ordinary subject and turn it into a thing of beauty to be seen in a more vibrant and thought provoking way.

So it is with a bit of reluctance on this quiet Sunday morning that I decided to share with you these lovely lilies I found in my rock garden early this morning while out taking a walk. Any one of those five extraordinary people could paint the subject with more identity and imagination. I cannot draw a stick man that would be recognized as a stick man.

But I, with my modest (meaning inexpensive) camera could not pass up the opportunity to capture these beautiful, fleeting treasures from the earth because I wanted them to be seen by eyes other than my own. I hope you agree.

Peace to all!

Guests

When I took Bob the Beagle out to potty before bedtime tonight and noticed we had a visitor......

The Vineyard and What It Brings

For the past three years, since the day we planted the tiny little fragile vines in the ground, I have entertained a fantasy about our first harvest.

Dennis and I would work in the hot sun, side by side, snipping clusters of grapes from the six rows of vines as we discussed politics, music, mutual friends and current events. In my vision of that day, we would be so excited to see our dream come to fruition after over five years of planning that we could hardly contain ourselves as we carried the buckets of fruit back to our kitchen.

I think about that day a lot.

Two weeks ago, the Chardonnay grapes were abundant and beautiful as they began to blossom and hang down from the cordons. The quantity of the clusters was almost overwhelming.

But then on May 23, we got an enormous amount of rain.....so much rain it sat on the ground for days. Soon after, we noticed a distinct change in the beautiful green grapes. Some of them began to turn dark.

After consulting the professionals, we learned two very distinct and somewhat disappointing things. First, all of the grape clusters that were discolored would have to be removed. And secondly, our plan to grow organically would have to change in order to preserve our fruit.

So, today in 93 degree temperatures and without Dennis, I had to do what was technically the first cutting to protect future growth. And it was sad.

At the end of the afternoon, after carefully examining and clipping two rows of Chardonnay, vine by vine, branch by branch, I ended up with these two buckets full of precious grapes that we could no longer use.

But there always is an up side to a dismal situation if you look hard enough. And my up side was surrounding me.

This mountain really belongs to the many inhabitants that live deep in these wood...we are just the caretakers. I don't see them often, but their presence is always with me. Sometimes, I feel their eyes on me as I work and there is evidence of them everywhere.

After my disappointing harvest today, I decided there was only one thing that could be done to justify our loss.
So tonight, when my fellow mountain inhabitants come out to search for food under the protective blanket of darkness, they will find a surprise. Deep in the woods, in various locations, the table will be set with a feast of Chardonnay grapes........ all they have to do is show up.

And my long walk back to the house this evening wasn't near as sad as the walk I had made earlier in the day to the vineyard.

UPDATE: So far, the rows of Cabernet and Cynthiana grapes are doing fine.

The Sensitive Side of Teddy

I have no idea what this is all about, but I suppose it makes sense to him.

Ancestors?

I am pretty sure this little guy's family has lived on the mountain much longer than mine.......

misleading photo......

I would love to title this photo DOG IN THE DESERT..........

But in actuality, it is just my dog Teddy, standing in the front yard where we have cleared about 45 years worth of brush and I haven't replanted with grass seed yet.

The Path of Water

I really REALLY want to be writing about something other than rain. Unfortunately, that is all I have at the moment. More water than I need, and more water than this place can contain, but I am hesitant to complain, because I know with true conviction that Arkansas summers can be brutal and in a matter of months, I will find myself longing for it with fond memories. So, with this knowledge, I am trying to concentrate on the beauty and mystery of it all.......and just be extra cautious where I step and drive.

Back in the day, the Little River Band came out with a beautiful song that I always felt was just for me, even though obviously I knew it wasn't. The title was "Cool Change" and it was about an Aquirus (like me) and the importance water played in his life. "I was born in the sign of water, and its there that I feel my best...........". I completely "got it" when I lived on the Gulf Coast and found I could stare at the ocean for endless amounts of time and never lose my fascination with it. The sense of peace and calm it brought were very therapeutic.

Maybe that is what I am trying to recapture with my little pond project here....who knows? I suppose I don't get upset about the mess that this is right now because I look at it and see, not what it is right now, but what it will be one day soon. And that mental image takes be back to the days sitting by the water on the beach.

So indulge me through these little challenges that make the story more interesting. I PROMISE......a thing of beauty will be at the end of the story.

Early Monday morning, this was the stream flowing out of the hole that was put into the side of the pond to prevent it from overflowing. As water will always do, it took the path of least resistance.....down the bank into the ditches that run along the sides of my narrow steep driveway.

And as the morning progressed, so did the water. The ditches soon overflowed and water and debris flowed down the mountain and it spilled out over the road.

Had the stream's path not chosen to cross the middle of our road, I might have had more appreciation of this natural occurrence. But even despite this, there is a certain elegance about it all.

The sun is out this morning and I am about to take my morning exploration walk to see what has changed overnight. As I told my sister yesterday, there is nothing wrong here than can't be fixed with a bull dozer and some sunshine.

Wish the rest of life were so simple!

More of the Same........

Wish I had something new to report, but once again, it is a cold, rainy, stormy Sunday afternoon on the mountain.

The floor of the pond was not finished when the torrential rains came two weeks ago, which definitely complicated things. Last week, because of the possibility of an overflow eroding the new, very steep outer bank, Sammy had to come with the dozer during a brief break in the rain to knock a hole in one of the smaller banks to give the water a place to drain off. So, right now, this unprecedented weather has provided us with a large muddy containment area with banks so slippery that staying upright while walking them is quite the challenge. So far, so good!

Enormous Amounts of Rain

To give you an idea how much rain we have had here on the mountain, the picture below was taken on April 21st, 2011.

This following picture was taken April 27th, 2011.

This dark area on the left side of the pond is not a mini-BP oil spill. It is debris blown into the pond from the high winds.
The muddy water is a combination of enormous amounts of rain pounding soft fresh earth and a muddy pond bed. We have a series of unfortunate events at the moment........all of which can be repaired when the rains stop and the sun comes out.

Stuck in the Mud, Exhibit #2

My husband returned from the beautiful tropical climates of Miami, Puerto Rico and the Dominican to an unprecedented six consecutive days of torrential downpours, sustained winds up to 60 mph and tornado sirens blaring throughout the nights. He described the amount of water we have received as "Biblical proportions" and said the weather reminded him of hurricane seasons during our ten years living on the Gulf Coast. Big difference though.....hurricanes PASS THROUGH. This stuff doesn't seem to be going anywhere!!!

And, those of you who know me well will not be surprised at all to learn we are right in the middle of a major excavation project up here on the mountain. Lots of clearing, digging, rearranging of earth........which, combined with an enormous amount of water = MUD! Mud everywhere..........more mud than you can possibly imagine and as far as the eye can see.

I am a klutz. No big secret there. Everyday walking for me is an adventure. So, picture if you can my early morning walks, through the mud to see what the previous night's storms have brought. Every step looks like this!
If I step too quickly, the sucking power of the mud is much stronger that I am and I step right out of my boots. However, if I linger a fraction of a second too long, I just sink deeper. So walking through this is a very delicate balance..........but a fun challenge, nevertheless!

Mudding is NOT Fun!

Last Friday afternoon, every vehicle you see in this photo was STUCK in the mud in my yard!
The stump grinder's big yellow machine got bogged down in the mud. We got my black 4-wheel drive truck to pull it out. My front tires got stuck in the mud. So we got the stump grinder's green 4-wheel drive truck. Both driver's side wheels buried up in the mud. Then we got Dennis 4-wheel drive side-by-side to try to pull it out...........you know where this is going.
Fortunately, the man in charge of this project is the sweetest guy EVER. He left his daughter's track meet to come up here and pull us all out with his bull dozer.
I sort of expected him to ban me from proceeding with any projects without his supervision. But I got off with just a "look"........you know, the kind of look a parent gives a child who has really screwed up and should have known better.