Monday, March 30, 2015

Dirt under my nails

Today I came inside from an early morning outing a total mess: dirt under my fingernails, dirt decorating my pants and smudged on assorted patches of skin where I had swatted at hungry mosquitoes.

But there were also two tomato plants in the ground, a bit of weeding accomplished and one ecstatic dirty woman. That was my first “grubbing-in-the-dirt” session in months.

I had let the combination of admittedly minor complaints keep me out of the garden and off my feet. I am a weenie when it comes to pain.

Both Hubby and I wanted me healed up for travel planned for May.  

Home treatment has not worked. It hasn’t helped the skin issues that prohibit wearing the electrical stimulation device that helps me walk. Neither have at home efforts helped ingrown toenail recurrences.

Some cutting by a dermatologist and both cutting and chemical treatment by a podiatrist have been more successful.

I am getting back on track. The toe is healing. The skin has healed. And I am building up my wearing time with the estim. I’m walking out with more confidence and more balance, both physical and mental.

Movement, garden, sunshine, gentle breeze, physicians, the patience of friends and family--blessings all.

Thank you, God.

Friday, March 13, 2015

Memories through my window

Space Needle

Front and center from our third-floor room in our motel was the Space Needle, an enduring landmark among  the tourist attractions at Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

During more than 3 decades of summer vacations to the Smoky Mountains we had made the elevator ride to the Needle’s topmost observation deck only once. We mostly avoided Gatlinburg crowds and the summer heat except trips for groceries or gas for our van. 

instead we camped with our two boys in the national park where the campgrounds’ higher elevations and breezes off cold mountain streams kept us cool. 

Plus, kids and adults alike found plenty of entertainment in tubing and splashing in the streams, hiking nearby trails, joining park rangers for campfire programs and walks or just sitting around our campfire with hot drinks and conversation.

But for one evening of each trip, we would load up the boys and take them to Gatlinburg. Sons and dad would rocket down a mountainside multiple times on the alpine slide, a gravity-powered ride at the Ober Gatlinburg amusement complex.

 Next on the agenda would be strolling the main street, checking out new shops and sampling the chocolate, taffy, candied apples, hot pretzels and other goodies.The boys also tested their skills in the block-wide arcade at the base of the space needle.

Now the children who populated those memories are grown and their children are making new Gatlinburg memories.

How sweet it is!

Monday, March 2, 2015

How time flies

Seven years ago today

Younger son Jeremy emailed me the photo above today. It did some major tugging on my heartstrings. Nana (That’s a younger me.) and two of older son Walt’s little ones visit their newborn cousin Molly Kate.

This photo was a ramble down memory lane with these little ones who, with our eldest grandson, filled my heart with joy back then. There are now six grands, ages 12, 10, 9, 7, 6 and 4. The joy continues to grow as they grow.

Blessings abound.