Every summer for the past five years, my sister Ann and I have come to Ohio for a week. We do ancestry research and visit old friends. And our Schnellinger cousins host a family reunion. Every year, there’s at least a couple of relatives I don’t know. Usually I know all my cousins, but not … read more Alma’s progeny
Tag: Ann
Treehouse
We are staying in treehouses on this trip. Our AirBnB lodging was on the second floor, and around the windows were huge old trees. I laid in bed watching birds and squirrels eat and frolic. They were at my eye level and we all looked down on the world. Now at our vacation rental near … read more Treehouse
Watch over me
It’s only this week, now that I feel almost fully recovered from the brain surgery, that I realize what a big deal it was. Eleven weeks today, almost to the minute, since that aneurysm ruptured and I collapsed on the floor. I really did almost die. And the surgeons really did dig through my brain. … read more Watch over me
What else is wrong
I apologized to Ann for talking her ear off. “Oh, no, it’s fine – I’m just glad to see you awake, and not crying,” she said. That’s about right. I don’t have a big repertoire in terms of socializing these days. In addition to sleeping 9 or 10 hours at night, I take a couple … read more What else is wrong
The interrogation
“And how long do you cook this part?” Ann asked. I wanted to kill her. We had decided to make stirfry for dinner, to use up the tofu and veggies. Little did I realize that this would nearly drive me over the edge. My sister, who is an excellent cook, is also a by-the-recipe cook. … read more The interrogation
Being the baby again
I’ve been able to escape many of my work responsibilities during recovery, but today I had to check and finalize a form for the grant’s next installment. It was painfully difficult. The accountant had made some calculations that I knew weren’t correct. I went over and over the numbers to make sure I had done everything right. Then … read more Being the baby again
Flowers in winter
NOVEMBER 30 In these two weeks I have had so little fresh air, so little contact with nature. From the recliner I see trees and a bit of shrubbery, but it’s winter. The two bouquets of flowers in their vases are like a touchstone, the promise of being able to stroll outside again without help. … read more Flowers in winter
Weeping, and other visions
“Those who do not weep, do not see.” – Victor Hugo, “Les Miserables” A friend offered this quote after my sorrowful post about my failures in fused glass. It reminds me of the passage from Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet” engraved on my memory: “The more that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can … read more Weeping, and other visions