I went for a bicycle ride this afternoon. The wind was from the south, and it being a relatively warm day at 30 F, I went on a different route.
A south wind meant I took a more southerly and easterly route. As I am staying in the NW part of town that meant riding into the valley and downtown before taking a east/NE route to make a loop back home.
As I was on bicycle I could take the street that now runs through the local college I once attended for a year. Oops... now called a university. Up and over the wide sidewalk that now cuts the street in two. I saw one of those "No" signs. As I quickly rode past I saw 'no skateboards' and other words I didn't have time to read. Probably 'no bicycles'. They and skateboards are usually prohibited hand in hand.
At the river I rode up and over the old wooden walking bridge that crossed the river and train tracks. Ah.. memories. For my high school photography class I took a photo of this bridge during the last flood back in the 70s. My memory of the photo is of the northern end of the bridge just being under water. I see the city has maintained the bridge as all the planking is good, with a number of newer wood pieces. Over the main train tracks the bridge now had a chain link barrier to prevent kids from tossing things on the trains that passed underneath.
As I was now on the edge of 'downtown' I rode up Main Street. Time has not been kind to this street and its businesses since the large shopping mall opened in 1980. A few business remained from back then. B&B Drug for example. Otherwise the businesses are local independent businesses that just need a building with cheap rent and a hope they will succeed. I see the old J.C. Penny store is now a karate school. Time marches on.
East of downtown, past the old and large and once beautiful houses of Eastwood Park, is the Roosevelt city park. It is winter and everything is closed. The zoo also. Even with a bicycle the gates kept me away from the buildings and cages. No matter, from what I could see the animals were held elsewhere warmer.
I thought the bears might be seen, but wait, it is winter and hibernation season. I see the city built a new and much larger area for the bears. Come to think of it the old area was rather small. I loved watching the bears when I was kid - even if their area often had a strong smell.
The swimming pool naturally was closed. I see they now have a large water slide to go with the pool. The playground equipment is all new, although there is much less to play on than when I was a kid. And the equipment is plastic and educates in addition to entertaining the kids. Gone are the swings, slides, teeter-totters of my youth. I guess they are now considered dangerous. How did we survive as kids?!
The mini-carnival area (Lunder's KiddyLand) is now gone, replaced by a concrete skateboard park. Funny... the skateboard area has a "no bicycles" sign. *sigh* We get no respect. The mini-carnival used to be a miniature Ferris wheel, a small train, a merry-go-round, and a few other rides I forget.
On display were a caboose from both the Soo Line and BN railroads (before it became BNSF). The cabooses need paint - especially the light green BN caboose. Its sides are starting to rust. Wooden steps were at each end of both cabooses. I looked inside and they were empty. Hmm... must be a work-in-progress.
Nearby was a sundial. That's new. Or I should saw "newer" as I haven't been here in many many years. It is part sculpture and only tells the time from mid morning till 5 pm. Okay...
The statue of a young Roughrider Teddy Roosevelt on horse back still stands in the park. His face under his hat, and under the horse's belly, are still a darker green. Other parts exposed to the rain and elements are a lighter green. Time and the elements are aging even Teddy.
I rode across a small bridge over a loop in the river to another part of the park. Here I noticed all the damage to the trees from the early October blizzard.
Leaving the park I rode to the county road east of town. The livestock auction was in full swing. I could hear the auctioner and I was across the train tracks. Funny... it's not Friday. Lots of pickups and long stock trailers were in the parking lot, so I rode in to the auction building. I asked and found this was a special bred cow sale. Yes, Fridays are their main sale day.
"How many head do you usually have?", I asked.
"The same as today, 1500 to two thousand."
No wonder they were still at it near 5 pm. Growing up I never realized this part of North Dakota had so many cattle. Where I now live used to be cattle country but the local auction ring closed the end of 2004. Only sold 3400 cattle all year versus 30,000 20 years ago. The sales I attended this past fall in Missoula didn't have near 1500 head. Wonder if the time of the year makes a difference in the amount of livestock being sold?
A BNSF freight train thundered by as I left the auction. I made it past the next county road intersection without having to share the road with the cars held up on the other side of the long freight.
The county road NE of town is not a "bypass" route. It was merely a paved road well out of town. The airport lay between it and the town. Not much was out here, and not much has changed. A house and buildings on the east side were now just a few derelict buildings. The house and buildings of my memory at the bottom of a small coulee must have been a trailer and buildings. All that is left are weathered buildings on the verge of collapse and a small abandoned mobile home. The buildings in their state of leaning are picturesque and I made mental note to come back on a day the sun is shining to take photos of them. Also gone is the mean dog that used to chase me as I rode my bicycle here. I would pedal fast as I went down one side of the coulee to get speed for the climb up the other side. I needed speed to outrace the dog when he chased me up the hill.
Today I had a strong south wind at my back, and even though age and a heavier bicycle has slowed me down, I imagine I could have outraced that dog again today.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Ag expo
Friday I attended the annual KMOT agricultural expo. This is the first time I have attended the expo as the -20 F temperatures of the previous few winters had discouraged me from leaving the house.
The expo building easily held the large farm machinery. Many of the tractors and combines had tires taller than me. One tractor had 450 HP. The farms in N. Dakota are far larger than my few MT acres. Even the lawn tractors were large. Nothing in my size.
While a number of farms around here have livestock, the farms mostly produce crops. Therefore the majority of exhibitors were for seed and fertilizer. Toss in a number of banks and farm creditors, and that didn't leave many exhibitors of interest to me.
What did interest me was the booth on raising buffalo. I was able to ask a number of questions about the fencing needed, how they compare to cattle, calving, buying and selling, prices, etc.
I have seen a few buffalo ranches in SW MT and their fences had a strand or two of steel cable as part of the fence. Steel cable fences aren't required. With plenty of grass and water buffalos will stay put. But if the buffalo doesn't want to stay put, then I would need to upgrade my fences. Apparently buffalo can easily jump any fence they can put their nose over.
Buffalos can't be herded. If they don't want to go, they won't. Buffalos aren't afraid of anything. Once entices a buffalo to go somewhere or do something. While I prefer to entice my escaped cattle to return, sometimes herding is quicker.
Raising buffalos always had an appeal for me. And I think I can do it. Maybe someday I'll get an opportunity to raise some buffalo. (I'll just need to upgrade all my fences!)
I don't look like a typical NoDak farmer. I don't have a Norwegian look in face or body. My hair is longish, not in a military (short! short! short!) cut. I wasn't wearing a cap with a logo on it. I was wearing corduroy pants, not jeans. So while there weren't that many people at the expo, most exhibitors weren't that interested in talking to me. Or maybe it was because of their Scandinavian Midwestern reticence. They'd just sit there as I walked by their booth.
An example of this was the Pete's Tractor salvage booth. I wanted to know who made OMC farm machinery (my swather). All they knew was: Owatonna. From Owatonna, MN? Don't know? Still in business? Unlikely. (An internet search only finds used OMC / Owatonna farm machinery for sale, and nothing on the history of the manufacturer.) After I told "Pete's" I was only interested in finding a used running tractor and not parts, they lost interest in me. No one else was by their booth to talk to, so they just stared off into space as I stood there looking their booth over. Strange... I don't think I had bad breath.
A man who was interested in talking to me sold collapsible flag poles. I just wanted a copy of his brochure but he talked me into watching him give a demonstation of how the collapsible flag pole operated.
"Come back here behind the table to watch. Right around here. My wife usually trips people who leave without buying something, but she injured her foot so you're safe."
He was a fun friendly guy from Minnesota. I really didn't need a demonstration as it wasn't that difficult to figure out. Even collapsed, the pole was 6 ft or so. I told him I'd have to pass on buying one now as I am traveling on the train. When I mentioned I was from MT he said, "And you don't have to pay sales tax!" That's right!
I like flying the U.S. flag so a flag pole would be nice to have in my yard, but $200?! Umm... maybe not. I have some metal poles in amongst my stuff at home, and one may work as a flag pole. No hurry, the wind seldom blows in the Flathead so the flag would more than likely hang limp.
Another device I was interested in was the "gophinator". From Saskatchewan they came to sell these machines. The salesman and I had a chat about pocket gophers, and he was nice enough to listen to me complain about my pocket gophers. The machine is a good idea... but the price of $3300 (if I remember right) was too much to make it pay for me. I'll stick to my little traps to get rid of my pocket gophers.
Another Canadian firm (from Manitoba) was selling portable maternity pens and handling equipment for cattle. Nice idea, lots of money.
I also had a nice chat with the N. Dakota & Ward County weed specialists. I got literature (with photos) on N. Dakota's noxious weeds. Many weeds are the same as in MT. The milkweed they showed is not the milkweed I am trying to eradicate. Someday I'll find out what my milkweed is really called.
Near the end of my tour I signed up for the Case IH dealers drawing for a free flat screen TV. I wrote my MT address. They asked for a cell phone - don't have one. I was a little loopy and didn't think of putting down the phone number of where I am staying in NoDak, or it's address. I put down my internet address. Guess I won't win that TV! Nor will I worry about them calling later to sell me stuff.
Well, after visiting hundreds of booths, and gathering a bag full of literature, I headed home a tired puppy. It's tough standing on a concrete floor when all one is used to is walking dirt fields. Oh my aching back... someone want to give me a massage?
The expo building easily held the large farm machinery. Many of the tractors and combines had tires taller than me. One tractor had 450 HP. The farms in N. Dakota are far larger than my few MT acres. Even the lawn tractors were large. Nothing in my size.
While a number of farms around here have livestock, the farms mostly produce crops. Therefore the majority of exhibitors were for seed and fertilizer. Toss in a number of banks and farm creditors, and that didn't leave many exhibitors of interest to me.
What did interest me was the booth on raising buffalo. I was able to ask a number of questions about the fencing needed, how they compare to cattle, calving, buying and selling, prices, etc.
I have seen a few buffalo ranches in SW MT and their fences had a strand or two of steel cable as part of the fence. Steel cable fences aren't required. With plenty of grass and water buffalos will stay put. But if the buffalo doesn't want to stay put, then I would need to upgrade my fences. Apparently buffalo can easily jump any fence they can put their nose over.
Buffalos can't be herded. If they don't want to go, they won't. Buffalos aren't afraid of anything. Once entices a buffalo to go somewhere or do something. While I prefer to entice my escaped cattle to return, sometimes herding is quicker.
Raising buffalos always had an appeal for me. And I think I can do it. Maybe someday I'll get an opportunity to raise some buffalo. (I'll just need to upgrade all my fences!)
I don't look like a typical NoDak farmer. I don't have a Norwegian look in face or body. My hair is longish, not in a military (short! short! short!) cut. I wasn't wearing a cap with a logo on it. I was wearing corduroy pants, not jeans. So while there weren't that many people at the expo, most exhibitors weren't that interested in talking to me. Or maybe it was because of their Scandinavian Midwestern reticence. They'd just sit there as I walked by their booth.
An example of this was the Pete's Tractor salvage booth. I wanted to know who made OMC farm machinery (my swather). All they knew was: Owatonna. From Owatonna, MN? Don't know? Still in business? Unlikely. (An internet search only finds used OMC / Owatonna farm machinery for sale, and nothing on the history of the manufacturer.) After I told "Pete's" I was only interested in finding a used running tractor and not parts, they lost interest in me. No one else was by their booth to talk to, so they just stared off into space as I stood there looking their booth over. Strange... I don't think I had bad breath.
A man who was interested in talking to me sold collapsible flag poles. I just wanted a copy of his brochure but he talked me into watching him give a demonstation of how the collapsible flag pole operated.
"Come back here behind the table to watch. Right around here. My wife usually trips people who leave without buying something, but she injured her foot so you're safe."
He was a fun friendly guy from Minnesota. I really didn't need a demonstration as it wasn't that difficult to figure out. Even collapsed, the pole was 6 ft or so. I told him I'd have to pass on buying one now as I am traveling on the train. When I mentioned I was from MT he said, "And you don't have to pay sales tax!" That's right!
I like flying the U.S. flag so a flag pole would be nice to have in my yard, but $200?! Umm... maybe not. I have some metal poles in amongst my stuff at home, and one may work as a flag pole. No hurry, the wind seldom blows in the Flathead so the flag would more than likely hang limp.
Another device I was interested in was the "gophinator". From Saskatchewan they came to sell these machines. The salesman and I had a chat about pocket gophers, and he was nice enough to listen to me complain about my pocket gophers. The machine is a good idea... but the price of $3300 (if I remember right) was too much to make it pay for me. I'll stick to my little traps to get rid of my pocket gophers.
Another Canadian firm (from Manitoba) was selling portable maternity pens and handling equipment for cattle. Nice idea, lots of money.
I also had a nice chat with the N. Dakota & Ward County weed specialists. I got literature (with photos) on N. Dakota's noxious weeds. Many weeds are the same as in MT. The milkweed they showed is not the milkweed I am trying to eradicate. Someday I'll find out what my milkweed is really called.
Near the end of my tour I signed up for the Case IH dealers drawing for a free flat screen TV. I wrote my MT address. They asked for a cell phone - don't have one. I was a little loopy and didn't think of putting down the phone number of where I am staying in NoDak, or it's address. I put down my internet address. Guess I won't win that TV! Nor will I worry about them calling later to sell me stuff.
Well, after visiting hundreds of booths, and gathering a bag full of literature, I headed home a tired puppy. It's tough standing on a concrete floor when all one is used to is walking dirt fields. Oh my aching back... someone want to give me a massage?
Friday, January 27, 2006
A man and a woman
I just watched a very good movie Friday: "A Man and a Woman". Or "Un homme et une femme"A French film from 1966, it is a romantic movie about falling in love again after the death of one's first spouse.
"He's a race car driver, she works behind the scenes on movies. Scenes in the rain, on the beach, and riding horses evoke a very romantic mood as the two slowly fall in love. Much of the dialogue is forced and at times things in the movie are slow, but that romantic mood never evaporates. And, of course, there's that wonderful music."
The soundtrack is wonderful. The main theme is a song everyone has heard but probably don't connect to the movie. And the Samba music her first husband played and sang to her is exotic and sensuous. Unfortunately Amazon says the soundtrack is no longer available.
Yes, the movie is slow at times. But not having read any reviews as to what the story was about, I was hooked and wanted to know more about the man and the woman as the movie went on. I went with the romantic feel of the movie and overlooked the slow parts, forced dialog, and poor dubbing into English. My mother on the other hand thought the movie was boring.
Even though the movie is from 1966 it doesn't feel dated.
The odd thing is that I saw this film on the Speed cable channel. I guess since he was a race car driver, and the movie had several racing scenes, it qualified to be shown. This channel would be one of the last places I'd expect to find a romantic French movie.
And speaking of 1960s French films... "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" is a very interesting movie. I saw this movie last year. When a young girl is forced to choose between love and security, which does she choose? Catherine Deneuve plays the young girl.All the dialogue in this film is sung, which at first is a little unsettling, but it actually takes very little time to adjust to. Unusual, but it works. I watched this movie after midnight and remained awake and interested to the end, although sometimes it was on the edge of being over the top.
The colors are vivid. The story is bittersweet. Be careful in reading reviews of this movie if you are a person who doesn't want to know how a story turns out before watching the movie.
Xmas train trip
The morning of my train trip I woke up before the alarm went off - even after only a few hours sleep. But this was a half hour before I planned to get up. *sigh* I checked the train’s status. Amtrak’s automated and perky voice - "Julie" - passed me on to a real live human as there was a "schedule" problem. The human simply told me the train would arrive a half hour late. They passed me on to a human to tell me this? I like "Julie". She sounds perky, not like the usual sleep deprived humans who answer the phone at that hour.
The arrival time then slipped further. I called my neighbor Jan to tell her the arrival time was now 8:15 am instead of 7:22 am. Jan was awake and ready to go. She wanted to take me as scheduled. "We’ll just drive slower."
As I loaded my stuff into her SUV Jan asked with a smile "Are you planning on staying til June?" I was glad she had a SUV as I had alot of stuff! My plan that morning to weed out what not to take did not work. I wasn’t thinking well on a few hours sleep.
The temperature had risen from 1 F at midnight to 16 F now. It was still dark, even with a light dusting of snow over everything. Jan drove the back roads and avoided the route that went up a steep ridge. We arrived at the station at 7:25 am, about the time the train normally arrives.
As we drove into the parking lot I saw the train. "What?!! The train wasn’t supposed to arrive till 8:15!" I flashed back to the time my dad took me to the station years ago. We had arrived just before the time I was told the train was to arrive late only to discover the train at the station and everyone on board. Fortunately I only had a carry on bag (traveling light for once!) and I was able to jump on the train mere minutes before it left the station. Today I had luggage to check.
I rushed to the station. Inside, a line from the ticket window stretched all the way across the long room and to the south door. I had never seen so many people in line there. I also knew the train wouldn’t leave until the people in line were taken care of. I grabbed luggage carts and unloaded my stuff. I had 3 carts full and overflowing. Why, oh why, did I bring all this stuff?!!!
After bidding good-bye to Jan I moved my carts just outside a station door. The station doesn’t allow carts in the building so I hefted my 3 large suitcases inside. The station was packed with people so I had to search for the end of the line. Then it was stand, shuffle, and move my suitcases as the line moved. Initially I was able to slide the suitcases across the floor using my foot, but as time dragged on I got weaker and had to reach down and move the suitcases using their handles.
The people in line were mostly late teen / early 20s Native Americans. They were on Christmas break from a Job Corps school in Ronan, MT, and now were returning home to their respective reservations. The guy next to me - studying to be a heavy equipment operator - said they all had gotten up at 3:30 am. 3:30?!!! That’s inhumane! I expressed my sympathy but he said they usually get up at 5 am. "Isn’t that early for classes?" No, they have chores to do before classes begin. Doesn’t sound like any school I went to!
Finally I reached the ticket counter amongst all that chaos. The girl in front of me didn’t have her luggage with her when she got her ticket (huh?) and had to go find it. Naturally she returned with her luggage as I was putting mine through the opening to be checked and tagged. I made sure they tagged my suitcases with my destination, and not her destination.
Most people were inside, in out of the cold. The rest of my luggage - two carts full - was outside. A few people were outside having a smoke. Next to my carts was an old grizzled bearded white guy who was drunk. Very drunk. But not a mean drunk; just a very confused one. Still he was lucid enough to know he had to catch the eastbound train and he asked me what time we were suppose to leave.
I learned that the reason for the delay - and why Amtrak’s "Julie" passed me off to a real live person - was that a freight train had derailed that night in Idaho. Amtrak was bussing those people around the derailment. The train at the Whitefish station was the formerly westbound train which Amtrak had "partially" turned around. By "partially" I mean they moved the engines from the front to the rear of the train. The cars with seats had their seats swiveled around so they would be facing forward. This wasn’t odd to the passengers, but the train attendants would get disoriented as the car’s layout were now "backward" to them.
I saw an Amtrak employee by the train. I went over and asked her which car the Minot passengers would board. I want to pre-position my 2 carts outside that car as the train stretched away from the station. She claimed not to know saying the conductors were responsible for that, and they were on the buses with the passengers.
The conductor and engineers are governed by a different set of rules than the attendants. The Amtrak attendants from the westbound train were required to turn around and work the train back to Chicago. The attendants - who live and work out of either Seattle or Chicago - also wanted to be bussed across the derailment to continue on. Especially the west bound attendants as they had less than a day of work left vs. almost 2 days back to Chicago. The Seattle attendants had been away from home since Sunday (today was Friday) and Amtrak would fly them home to Seattle once the train arrives in Chicago. No wonder Amtrak is losing money. Still, someone was needed to switch the seats around, clean and prepare the train for its return trip to Chicago.
8:15 am arrived and people began to come out of the station. Lots of people. So I guessed - based on past experience - where the Minot car would be and moved my carts there. Then an announcement was broadcast that I couldn’t make out. Now what? People were going back into the station, so I did also. Some milling around before they announced train personal would now be issuing boarding passes. Fortunately this was on my side of the room so I made sure I was one of the initial people to present my ticket and get my boarding pass.
I dashed outside and asked which car I was to board. So the attendants knew after all! I was one car off and quickly moved my carts to that car. I loaded my suitcases in the car’s lower level baggage area, then grabbed a few grocery bags and went upstairs to find a seat. I was among the first passengers on board so I had my choice. Not at the ends near the doors, nor near the center stairs, but in the middle between, and in a row where I had a full window. Perfect. I got the rest of my bags and filled the overhead luggage rack above me. I settled into my seat. Ahhhh.... made it. And with all my luggage!
I watched as more people boarded the train and came upstairs to find a seat. Most would plop their stuff into seats then head off to find the lounge car, or other people they knew, or back outside to smoke some more.
Four buses arrived outside the train station and people got off them. They retrieved their luggage from the storage bins under the buses and then some people walked through the station to reach the train. The younger people made a path over the lawn and through the snow directly to the train as they realized people had boarded the train already and the good seats probably were gone, or going soon.
One young white woman dashed between the train and the station a number of times. When I was in the ticket line I heard her talk on a phone and say she lost her backpack and stuff - she didn’t know if she misplaced it or it was stolen. Apparently she had been partying most of the previous night and still looked hung over. Eventually a van pulled up and she dashed over the lawn and snow to retrieve her backpack from the van. All is well now?
The train attendant announced Amtrak was expecting another bus of people and the train would be full. Train seats are 2 across and the single people needed to be aware Amtrak may move people so couples could sit together. This has happened to me in the past where Amtrak moved me and I lost my window seat.
A young guy (19? 20?), who had arrived on a bus, seemed to be in a daze. He chose a seat across the aisle from me where the other occupant had left his stuff on one of the two seats before going elsewhere. The attendant announced that whoever left their stuff in the hallway and not in a downstairs’ luggage bin had to come and move their stuff - now! This guy immediately got up and went downstairs.
When he returned he sat down in a seat one row ahead of the seat he chose earlier. He sat next to a Native American girl going to Havre. The seat he was now in had earlier been occupied by a Native girl going to Browning, and who put her stuff in the overhead storage rack and left. The Havre girl didn’t say anything. A short time later the Browning girl came back, and kneeling in a seat one row ahead, looked over the top of the seat to talk to the Havre girl. Neither girl would talk to the guy. They didn’t mention he was in her seat but he finally caught on as their conversation got more and more direct that this was her seat. He apologized and got up.
I then told him the seat next to me was open. I had seen that his destination was West Glacier - the next stop 15 minutes away. If he sat next to me it would prevent me from possibly getting moved, or someone else taking the seat whose destination was hours away.
He traveled from Florida. His mother has a second house/cabin near West Glacier. A few years ago he and his mother had traveled the western U.S. looking for a second place to live. (Must be nice to be rich!) When they arrived in the Flathead Valley they fell in love with the area and bought land outside the Park. The past few years they, and more members of her family, would vacation and build on their house/cabin. The place was now far enough along that they could spend time here during the winter. I felt duty bound to enlighten him that the winter here, while warm, is cloudy. He was fine with that as the sun mostly shines in Florida and this would be a nice change of pace. Okay...
He seemed like a nice enough kid - just young and confused. Maybe because he had flown from Florida to Arizona to Spokane, then took the train from Spokane and was in the group bussed around the derailment. He had been traveling a long time.
Our departure
Our 8:15 am departure time came and went. Time passed, and passed, and... passed. Amtrak announced the dining car would soon be open for breakfast, but they would only be serving cold meals. Our car’s attendant mentioned that the train needed to resupplied with food, and part of the reason we hadn’t left yet was that the cook had to go to the grocery store to get food. The last I looked the local grocery store sold eggs and other items used to make hot meals. And the store was open either 24 hrs or very early in the morning. The cook could have gotten the food earlier.
Finally the train moved. It started out so slowly I only could tell we started when I saw the landscape outside moving. We traveled a quarter mile down the track before stopping. Then we sat, and sat, and... sat. *sigh* Did the cook forget something? I told the kid that he should have called his mother from the station, "She could have driven from West Glacier to get you, and you’d be home now." He looked around to see if he could see the station, but I told him to forget it, it was too far to walk back to the station with his carryon luggage.
Finally near 10 am - about 2 1/2 hours late - we were on our way. My seat mate got off at West Glacier and two scruffy ski bums (too late in the year to be backpacking bums) got on the train and found seats in our car near the back door. Then off through the mountains and snow and along the river.
The Native kids, fresh out of school, were bouncing off the walls. Most of them couldn’t keep still. Talk, talk, talk. Up and down the aisles. It was like being back in high school. As contrast, the Havre Native girl borrowed her seat mate's blanket and stuffed animal - a moose. She had both seats, and raising both seats’ footrests curled up under the blanket. With the moose as a pillow she went to sleep.
While going through the mountains the Amtrak lounge car official announced over the loudspeaker that from now on everyone will be carded in the lounge car when ordering items. Downstairs in my car, in the hallway near the bathrooms, some Native kids hung out. As I filled a cup with the foul tasting water Amtrak carries, a young Native girl came out of the door to the lounge toilet and announced to the Native boys that the girls in that room were having a "conference". I didn’t think much of it because kids, especially teenage girls, can be such drama queens.
A short time later the female car attendant came upstairs and announced that smoking is not allowed on the train, and like on airlines, it is a federal offense. If she caught anyone smoking they would be kicked off the train and arrested. In the row in front of me were a couple in their 60s, and in the row in front of them was another older woman they knew. They informed the attendant that the kids were smoking in the bathrooms. I don’t care for smoking, but it was a little humorous to me as I remember a pop song when I was in high school in the 70s called "Smoking in the Boys Room" (by Brownsville Station). If you aren't familiar with the song, or want to listen again, a 30 second clip can be heard at the Amazon web site.
Later Amtrak announced that the people who just left the lounge car and had made a mess were to immediately return and clean up their mess. A short time later the Native guy who sat across the aisle from me came back to his seat and sat down. He fidgeted and fidgeted.
We talked about West Glacier and Lake MacDonald, and I realized visiting these places this past summer was a new experience for him. Since he was from Browning, and in his late teens, I was surprised he hadn’t been west of the Divide in Glacier before.
More fidgeting, and after seeing the Havre girl was now awake, he moved up and sat next to her. He asked if it was all right with her as he didn’t like sitting alone. While they were both in the Ronan Job Corps program he didn’t know her.
They were from different reservations; he from the Blackfoot Reservation and lived in the "country" (as he called it) outside of Browning; she from the Rocky Boy Reservation near Havre. They knew little about each other’s reservations, nor apparently much of any other Native reservations, which surprised me. But then they were kids, and kids usually don’t know much of the world.
His vacation plans were to party with his friends. He liked to party, but I got the idea he partied out of boredom as he didn’t know what else to do. He said he was one of the people who were buying liquor in the lounge car, but he was in the bathroom when the attendants realized what was happening and starting to id people. So he didn’t get into trouble.
He was still talking to the girl when we arrived at Browning. Browning is a "on-and-off" stop so one needs to be downstairs and ready to leave. Finally, reluctantly, as he had someone to talk to (and a girl no less), he got up, grabbed his bag and left.
The train sat and sat and sat at Browning. The girl who loaned her blanket and moose to the Havre girl came, got her stuff and left. The train continued to sit as more kids came down the aisle to go downstairs to get off. Now why isn’t the train leaving?! Finally a Native girl came running down the aisle from the direction of the lounge car with a female train attendant closely following. Harshly the attendant said, "Hurry up! You’re delaying the train!" I think Amtrak wasn’t missing any opportunity to ensure those who were supposed to depart at Browning, indeed did so. The girl got her bag and blanket, which had sat unattended in the overhead rack across the aisle the whole trip. She left in a huff complaining how rude they were to her. After she left, the train finally departed.
Our car was mostly empty: in our car were a half dozen Native kids going to Havre, the two backpacker/ski bums, a few old people, and me. Peace and quiet.
The two old women in the rows in front of me chatted with the female car attendant trying to get the gossip on what was going on. The attendant said the lounge car had its hands full trying to sell liquor only to the people 21 and older, and also watch that they weren’t buying liquor for their under 21 year old friends. The two women again informed the attendant that girls had been smoking in the bathrooms. The attendant said she couldn’t do anything unless she caught the girls in the act. The girls would have lookouts in the hallway who would signal when the attendant came downstairs.
Havre
Havre is a stop to refuel and empty the trash. I stepped outside for some exercise and fresh air. Out front of the station I saw several Havre police cars. Our 20 minute stop took over an hour. The attendant later said Amtrak tossed off 33 Job Corp kids and had them arrested for underage drinking or giving alcohol to minors. Apparently only 6 to 10 Wolf Point kids were left on the train, and they were now quiet.
Leaving Havre we were now 3 1/2 hours behind schedule. *sigh*
At the Havre station I picked up a copy of the train schedule and gave it to the older couple in front of me. I was tired of her always asking the attendants, what the next stop was, and when we will arrive in Williston? Then she would launch into a story about how:
I asked the husband about his cattle. What breed he raised, how many acres, irrigation (yes) vs. dry land farming, etc. His wife interjected they raised Angus and Angus/Hereford cross and rubbed two of her fingers together as she said they were worth more money. She didn’t think much of my raising Charolais cattle this past summer as that breed doesn’t bring as much money. She said when their kids were younger, her son raised Herefords and her daughter raised Angus; and her daughter was smarter as she made more money than her son. Okay...
At Malta, the stop was longer than the usual quick-and-go stop. The train attendant later said they found and kicked off some kids that they has missed in Havre, and it took a few extra minutes to turn them over to the Malta police.
At the Glasgow station a large group of men wearing winter coats and overalls stood on the platform in the cold. I saw each man’s breath quickly fly away into the darkness as they huddled together waiting to board. Our car stopped right in front of the station and they boarded our car. Each man staked out a pair of seats in the rows across and behind me. They were Burlington Northern Santa Fe (BNSF) railroad workers and they were going to Minot. Because of the Idaho train derailment no eastbound trains were moving. Instead of catching an eastbound freight from Glasgow back to Minot, BNSF put the employees on the Amtrak train so they could later drive another westbound train out of Minot.
At the Wolf Point station the parking lot was full of cars and pickups. The vehicles’ lights were on and the exhausts flew away in the wind. Only a half dozen or so kids got off the train. Many more than a half dozen parents were waiting. Our attendant said she told the other parents to call the jails in Malta and Harve. It would be a long drive to get the kids in Havre: 207 miles.
When the train arrived in Williston I was in conversation with a BNSF employee from Glasgow who just bought land in the Flathead Valley and would move there when he retired in 2 years. I really didn’t notice as the Washington couple left the train. The last I knew via her cell phone conversation (couldn’t help but overhear), it was too late to surprise her son that night. Their plan was to wait till the next morning.
I was talking with another BNSF employee when the train arrived in Minot. He had earlier overheard that I had lived in Rochester. He had a Mayo Clinic story where he needed a liver transplant and one wasn’t available.
The Clinic appeared to not have hope the transplant would help him. His wife pulled him out of there and got him to a University hospital in Madison, Wisconsin where he got his transplant, treatment, and a cure. He was also unhappy that some older rock star (Van Halen?) on his Rochester hospital floor got special treatment while he was at the Clinic. The woman in the seat in front of me also had a negative Clinic story. It turns out she graduated from Minot High a year after I did. We didn’t know each other.
The train arrived at 12:40 am - about 3 1/2 hours late.
My brother was there to meet me. Quickly in the cold a few other people and I picked our luggage off the cart outside the station. My brother and I loaded his pickup with all the stuff I brought along. Even though Minot is another long refueling stop, it was late and only a few die hard smokers got off the train to have a cigarette in the cold night air.
It was late and I was tired. But it was nice to finally be here.
The arrival time then slipped further. I called my neighbor Jan to tell her the arrival time was now 8:15 am instead of 7:22 am. Jan was awake and ready to go. She wanted to take me as scheduled. "We’ll just drive slower."
As I loaded my stuff into her SUV Jan asked with a smile "Are you planning on staying til June?" I was glad she had a SUV as I had alot of stuff! My plan that morning to weed out what not to take did not work. I wasn’t thinking well on a few hours sleep.
The temperature had risen from 1 F at midnight to 16 F now. It was still dark, even with a light dusting of snow over everything. Jan drove the back roads and avoided the route that went up a steep ridge. We arrived at the station at 7:25 am, about the time the train normally arrives.
As we drove into the parking lot I saw the train. "What?!! The train wasn’t supposed to arrive till 8:15!" I flashed back to the time my dad took me to the station years ago. We had arrived just before the time I was told the train was to arrive late only to discover the train at the station and everyone on board. Fortunately I only had a carry on bag (traveling light for once!) and I was able to jump on the train mere minutes before it left the station. Today I had luggage to check.
I rushed to the station. Inside, a line from the ticket window stretched all the way across the long room and to the south door. I had never seen so many people in line there. I also knew the train wouldn’t leave until the people in line were taken care of. I grabbed luggage carts and unloaded my stuff. I had 3 carts full and overflowing. Why, oh why, did I bring all this stuff?!!!
After bidding good-bye to Jan I moved my carts just outside a station door. The station doesn’t allow carts in the building so I hefted my 3 large suitcases inside. The station was packed with people so I had to search for the end of the line. Then it was stand, shuffle, and move my suitcases as the line moved. Initially I was able to slide the suitcases across the floor using my foot, but as time dragged on I got weaker and had to reach down and move the suitcases using their handles.
The people in line were mostly late teen / early 20s Native Americans. They were on Christmas break from a Job Corps school in Ronan, MT, and now were returning home to their respective reservations. The guy next to me - studying to be a heavy equipment operator - said they all had gotten up at 3:30 am. 3:30?!!! That’s inhumane! I expressed my sympathy but he said they usually get up at 5 am. "Isn’t that early for classes?" No, they have chores to do before classes begin. Doesn’t sound like any school I went to!
Finally I reached the ticket counter amongst all that chaos. The girl in front of me didn’t have her luggage with her when she got her ticket (huh?) and had to go find it. Naturally she returned with her luggage as I was putting mine through the opening to be checked and tagged. I made sure they tagged my suitcases with my destination, and not her destination.
Most people were inside, in out of the cold. The rest of my luggage - two carts full - was outside. A few people were outside having a smoke. Next to my carts was an old grizzled bearded white guy who was drunk. Very drunk. But not a mean drunk; just a very confused one. Still he was lucid enough to know he had to catch the eastbound train and he asked me what time we were suppose to leave.
I learned that the reason for the delay - and why Amtrak’s "Julie" passed me off to a real live person - was that a freight train had derailed that night in Idaho. Amtrak was bussing those people around the derailment. The train at the Whitefish station was the formerly westbound train which Amtrak had "partially" turned around. By "partially" I mean they moved the engines from the front to the rear of the train. The cars with seats had their seats swiveled around so they would be facing forward. This wasn’t odd to the passengers, but the train attendants would get disoriented as the car’s layout were now "backward" to them.
I saw an Amtrak employee by the train. I went over and asked her which car the Minot passengers would board. I want to pre-position my 2 carts outside that car as the train stretched away from the station. She claimed not to know saying the conductors were responsible for that, and they were on the buses with the passengers.
The conductor and engineers are governed by a different set of rules than the attendants. The Amtrak attendants from the westbound train were required to turn around and work the train back to Chicago. The attendants - who live and work out of either Seattle or Chicago - also wanted to be bussed across the derailment to continue on. Especially the west bound attendants as they had less than a day of work left vs. almost 2 days back to Chicago. The Seattle attendants had been away from home since Sunday (today was Friday) and Amtrak would fly them home to Seattle once the train arrives in Chicago. No wonder Amtrak is losing money. Still, someone was needed to switch the seats around, clean and prepare the train for its return trip to Chicago.
8:15 am arrived and people began to come out of the station. Lots of people. So I guessed - based on past experience - where the Minot car would be and moved my carts there. Then an announcement was broadcast that I couldn’t make out. Now what? People were going back into the station, so I did also. Some milling around before they announced train personal would now be issuing boarding passes. Fortunately this was on my side of the room so I made sure I was one of the initial people to present my ticket and get my boarding pass.
I dashed outside and asked which car I was to board. So the attendants knew after all! I was one car off and quickly moved my carts to that car. I loaded my suitcases in the car’s lower level baggage area, then grabbed a few grocery bags and went upstairs to find a seat. I was among the first passengers on board so I had my choice. Not at the ends near the doors, nor near the center stairs, but in the middle between, and in a row where I had a full window. Perfect. I got the rest of my bags and filled the overhead luggage rack above me. I settled into my seat. Ahhhh.... made it. And with all my luggage!
I watched as more people boarded the train and came upstairs to find a seat. Most would plop their stuff into seats then head off to find the lounge car, or other people they knew, or back outside to smoke some more.
Four buses arrived outside the train station and people got off them. They retrieved their luggage from the storage bins under the buses and then some people walked through the station to reach the train. The younger people made a path over the lawn and through the snow directly to the train as they realized people had boarded the train already and the good seats probably were gone, or going soon.
One young white woman dashed between the train and the station a number of times. When I was in the ticket line I heard her talk on a phone and say she lost her backpack and stuff - she didn’t know if she misplaced it or it was stolen. Apparently she had been partying most of the previous night and still looked hung over. Eventually a van pulled up and she dashed over the lawn and snow to retrieve her backpack from the van. All is well now?
The train attendant announced Amtrak was expecting another bus of people and the train would be full. Train seats are 2 across and the single people needed to be aware Amtrak may move people so couples could sit together. This has happened to me in the past where Amtrak moved me and I lost my window seat.
A young guy (19? 20?), who had arrived on a bus, seemed to be in a daze. He chose a seat across the aisle from me where the other occupant had left his stuff on one of the two seats before going elsewhere. The attendant announced that whoever left their stuff in the hallway and not in a downstairs’ luggage bin had to come and move their stuff - now! This guy immediately got up and went downstairs.
When he returned he sat down in a seat one row ahead of the seat he chose earlier. He sat next to a Native American girl going to Havre. The seat he was now in had earlier been occupied by a Native girl going to Browning, and who put her stuff in the overhead storage rack and left. The Havre girl didn’t say anything. A short time later the Browning girl came back, and kneeling in a seat one row ahead, looked over the top of the seat to talk to the Havre girl. Neither girl would talk to the guy. They didn’t mention he was in her seat but he finally caught on as their conversation got more and more direct that this was her seat. He apologized and got up.
I then told him the seat next to me was open. I had seen that his destination was West Glacier - the next stop 15 minutes away. If he sat next to me it would prevent me from possibly getting moved, or someone else taking the seat whose destination was hours away.
He traveled from Florida. His mother has a second house/cabin near West Glacier. A few years ago he and his mother had traveled the western U.S. looking for a second place to live. (Must be nice to be rich!) When they arrived in the Flathead Valley they fell in love with the area and bought land outside the Park. The past few years they, and more members of her family, would vacation and build on their house/cabin. The place was now far enough along that they could spend time here during the winter. I felt duty bound to enlighten him that the winter here, while warm, is cloudy. He was fine with that as the sun mostly shines in Florida and this would be a nice change of pace. Okay...
He seemed like a nice enough kid - just young and confused. Maybe because he had flown from Florida to Arizona to Spokane, then took the train from Spokane and was in the group bussed around the derailment. He had been traveling a long time.
Our departure
Our 8:15 am departure time came and went. Time passed, and passed, and... passed. Amtrak announced the dining car would soon be open for breakfast, but they would only be serving cold meals. Our car’s attendant mentioned that the train needed to resupplied with food, and part of the reason we hadn’t left yet was that the cook had to go to the grocery store to get food. The last I looked the local grocery store sold eggs and other items used to make hot meals. And the store was open either 24 hrs or very early in the morning. The cook could have gotten the food earlier.
Finally the train moved. It started out so slowly I only could tell we started when I saw the landscape outside moving. We traveled a quarter mile down the track before stopping. Then we sat, and sat, and... sat. *sigh* Did the cook forget something? I told the kid that he should have called his mother from the station, "She could have driven from West Glacier to get you, and you’d be home now." He looked around to see if he could see the station, but I told him to forget it, it was too far to walk back to the station with his carryon luggage.
Finally near 10 am - about 2 1/2 hours late - we were on our way. My seat mate got off at West Glacier and two scruffy ski bums (too late in the year to be backpacking bums) got on the train and found seats in our car near the back door. Then off through the mountains and snow and along the river.
The Native kids, fresh out of school, were bouncing off the walls. Most of them couldn’t keep still. Talk, talk, talk. Up and down the aisles. It was like being back in high school. As contrast, the Havre Native girl borrowed her seat mate's blanket and stuffed animal - a moose. She had both seats, and raising both seats’ footrests curled up under the blanket. With the moose as a pillow she went to sleep.
While going through the mountains the Amtrak lounge car official announced over the loudspeaker that from now on everyone will be carded in the lounge car when ordering items. Downstairs in my car, in the hallway near the bathrooms, some Native kids hung out. As I filled a cup with the foul tasting water Amtrak carries, a young Native girl came out of the door to the lounge toilet and announced to the Native boys that the girls in that room were having a "conference". I didn’t think much of it because kids, especially teenage girls, can be such drama queens.
A short time later the female car attendant came upstairs and announced that smoking is not allowed on the train, and like on airlines, it is a federal offense. If she caught anyone smoking they would be kicked off the train and arrested. In the row in front of me were a couple in their 60s, and in the row in front of them was another older woman they knew. They informed the attendant that the kids were smoking in the bathrooms. I don’t care for smoking, but it was a little humorous to me as I remember a pop song when I was in high school in the 70s called "Smoking in the Boys Room" (by Brownsville Station). If you aren't familiar with the song, or want to listen again, a 30 second clip can be heard at the Amazon web site.
Later Amtrak announced that the people who just left the lounge car and had made a mess were to immediately return and clean up their mess. A short time later the Native guy who sat across the aisle from me came back to his seat and sat down. He fidgeted and fidgeted.
We talked about West Glacier and Lake MacDonald, and I realized visiting these places this past summer was a new experience for him. Since he was from Browning, and in his late teens, I was surprised he hadn’t been west of the Divide in Glacier before.
More fidgeting, and after seeing the Havre girl was now awake, he moved up and sat next to her. He asked if it was all right with her as he didn’t like sitting alone. While they were both in the Ronan Job Corps program he didn’t know her.
They were from different reservations; he from the Blackfoot Reservation and lived in the "country" (as he called it) outside of Browning; she from the Rocky Boy Reservation near Havre. They knew little about each other’s reservations, nor apparently much of any other Native reservations, which surprised me. But then they were kids, and kids usually don’t know much of the world.
His vacation plans were to party with his friends. He liked to party, but I got the idea he partied out of boredom as he didn’t know what else to do. He said he was one of the people who were buying liquor in the lounge car, but he was in the bathroom when the attendants realized what was happening and starting to id people. So he didn’t get into trouble.
He was still talking to the girl when we arrived at Browning. Browning is a "on-and-off" stop so one needs to be downstairs and ready to leave. Finally, reluctantly, as he had someone to talk to (and a girl no less), he got up, grabbed his bag and left.
The train sat and sat and sat at Browning. The girl who loaned her blanket and moose to the Havre girl came, got her stuff and left. The train continued to sit as more kids came down the aisle to go downstairs to get off. Now why isn’t the train leaving?! Finally a Native girl came running down the aisle from the direction of the lounge car with a female train attendant closely following. Harshly the attendant said, "Hurry up! You’re delaying the train!" I think Amtrak wasn’t missing any opportunity to ensure those who were supposed to depart at Browning, indeed did so. The girl got her bag and blanket, which had sat unattended in the overhead rack across the aisle the whole trip. She left in a huff complaining how rude they were to her. After she left, the train finally departed.
Our car was mostly empty: in our car were a half dozen Native kids going to Havre, the two backpacker/ski bums, a few old people, and me. Peace and quiet.
The two old women in the rows in front of me chatted with the female car attendant trying to get the gossip on what was going on. The attendant said the lounge car had its hands full trying to sell liquor only to the people 21 and older, and also watch that they weren’t buying liquor for their under 21 year old friends. The two women again informed the attendant that girls had been smoking in the bathrooms. The attendant said she couldn’t do anything unless she caught the girls in the act. The girls would have lookouts in the hallway who would signal when the attendant came downstairs.
Havre
Havre is a stop to refuel and empty the trash. I stepped outside for some exercise and fresh air. Out front of the station I saw several Havre police cars. Our 20 minute stop took over an hour. The attendant later said Amtrak tossed off 33 Job Corp kids and had them arrested for underage drinking or giving alcohol to minors. Apparently only 6 to 10 Wolf Point kids were left on the train, and they were now quiet.
Leaving Havre we were now 3 1/2 hours behind schedule. *sigh*
At the Havre station I picked up a copy of the train schedule and gave it to the older couple in front of me. I was tired of her always asking the attendants, what the next stop was, and when we will arrive in Williston? Then she would launch into a story about how:
- they farmed with their son,
- their son just got married a few weeks ago,
- they had a reception for the newlyweds last week at their farm in Washington state,
- the newlyweds drove back to her parents’ farm near Dagmar, MT to have another reception,
- the couple found someone to watch and feed their 80 head of cattle for 3 days,
- they were on their way to surprise the newlyweds at her parents place (her parents were in on the surprise),
- and this was their first train trip.
I asked the husband about his cattle. What breed he raised, how many acres, irrigation (yes) vs. dry land farming, etc. His wife interjected they raised Angus and Angus/Hereford cross and rubbed two of her fingers together as she said they were worth more money. She didn’t think much of my raising Charolais cattle this past summer as that breed doesn’t bring as much money. She said when their kids were younger, her son raised Herefords and her daughter raised Angus; and her daughter was smarter as she made more money than her son. Okay...
At Malta, the stop was longer than the usual quick-and-go stop. The train attendant later said they found and kicked off some kids that they has missed in Havre, and it took a few extra minutes to turn them over to the Malta police.
At the Glasgow station a large group of men wearing winter coats and overalls stood on the platform in the cold. I saw each man’s breath quickly fly away into the darkness as they huddled together waiting to board. Our car stopped right in front of the station and they boarded our car. Each man staked out a pair of seats in the rows across and behind me. They were Burlington Northern Santa Fe (BNSF) railroad workers and they were going to Minot. Because of the Idaho train derailment no eastbound trains were moving. Instead of catching an eastbound freight from Glasgow back to Minot, BNSF put the employees on the Amtrak train so they could later drive another westbound train out of Minot.
At the Wolf Point station the parking lot was full of cars and pickups. The vehicles’ lights were on and the exhausts flew away in the wind. Only a half dozen or so kids got off the train. Many more than a half dozen parents were waiting. Our attendant said she told the other parents to call the jails in Malta and Harve. It would be a long drive to get the kids in Havre: 207 miles.
When the train arrived in Williston I was in conversation with a BNSF employee from Glasgow who just bought land in the Flathead Valley and would move there when he retired in 2 years. I really didn’t notice as the Washington couple left the train. The last I knew via her cell phone conversation (couldn’t help but overhear), it was too late to surprise her son that night. Their plan was to wait till the next morning.
I was talking with another BNSF employee when the train arrived in Minot. He had earlier overheard that I had lived in Rochester. He had a Mayo Clinic story where he needed a liver transplant and one wasn’t available.
The Clinic appeared to not have hope the transplant would help him. His wife pulled him out of there and got him to a University hospital in Madison, Wisconsin where he got his transplant, treatment, and a cure. He was also unhappy that some older rock star (Van Halen?) on his Rochester hospital floor got special treatment while he was at the Clinic. The woman in the seat in front of me also had a negative Clinic story. It turns out she graduated from Minot High a year after I did. We didn’t know each other.
The train arrived at 12:40 am - about 3 1/2 hours late.
My brother was there to meet me. Quickly in the cold a few other people and I picked our luggage off the cart outside the station. My brother and I loaded his pickup with all the stuff I brought along. Even though Minot is another long refueling stop, it was late and only a few die hard smokers got off the train to have a cigarette in the cold night air.
It was late and I was tired. But it was nice to finally be here.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Pre-Xmas Trip preparation
This is older news... but figuring out how to start a blog got me behind in sending out my news. So now I am catching up.
I decided to take the train to return to N. Dakota to visit my mother for the holidays. With recent snow and colder weather I had been a little slow in getting my outside tasks done; and I had stuff to do before I left. After a busy Fall I didn't have the ambition to work in the snow. (Maybe it'll melt!) The foggy/overcast weather didn't help my ambition either. But, Wednesday, the sky cleared and the sun shone in a bright royal blue sky. Beautiful!
The temperature warmed to the mid 20s. In the sun, and with no wind, it felt warm. Even though the temperature was a half dozen to 10 degrees below freezing, melting was happening here and there. From under the snow, water slowly dripped off on my "tool shed" building. The previous day I had shoveled the snow from the driveway and cleared paths to the barn and some other buildings, so now I shoveled some snow off the "tool shed" roof. This building is lower than average so I could reach half of the roof while standing on the ground. The snow had piled up during successive snowfalls to be a half foot to a foot high. Within an hour of my work the sun melted from the roof much of the snow that remained from where I had shoveled. Where I hadn't shoveled on the roof, that pile of snow was shrinking; but more than a few hours of sun will be needed to melt it all!
I took more snow photos as the trees were still snow and frost covered. They looked really nice in the sun and against the blue sky. Picture perfect. One photo will become my signature photo: Tall Pines. I added it to my new blog as my profile photo.
I uncovered and stored away some of the lumber the earlier snowfalls had buried. I shoveled a path to, then shoveled off, the snow that had fallen on my stock trailer. I climbed the sides and pushed off all the snow from its roof. Then I got a chain and a lock and wrapped 2 wheels and locked the chain. I also wrapped a small chain around the hitch. Nothing is completely fool proof, but it is at least some deterrent if a thief gets a hankering to take my trailer.
I took some of the plastic tubes I had gleaned from somewhere this summer and put them around most of my young fruit trees. Now if those #$%& deer break my baling twine fences they won't be able to eat the bark off these young tree trunks. Darn wildlife! :-)
When clearing my garden this Fall I had left one small stunted sunflower plant standing. While dried and brown it still had some visual appeal against the white snow blanketing everything. I also uncovered the snow off some of my carrots in the garden. I dug up enough carrots to fill a 5 gallon pail. The ground was softer than I expected considering we already had temperatures as low as -19 F. The snow acted as a good insulator and underneath the ground's hard thin crust the dirt was soft and fairly loose. I estimate I have enough carrots left in the ground to fill 3 pails. I shoveled more snow on top of them and hope they last the winter without freezing.
After cleaning the dirt off the carrots I put them in my house's crawl space. I found the temperature there to be 40 F. This is lower than the mid 40s of last year. I wonder if my new crawl space insulation has reduced the amount of heat escaping into the crawl space by this much? I hope leaving the house's temperature at 55 F is enough to keep the crawl space, and the water pipes within, from freezing!
With the nice weather I even found time to "stop and smell the roses" as I went for a 12 mile bicycle ride. After my ride Amy called to say the hucklebeary lotion bars she had made for me to give as Christmas gifts were ready. Amy's husband had some bee hives on my land this past summer, and apparently Amy uses bees wax and other ingredients in her secret recipe to make her lotion bars and body creams. I 'm a guy, so I don't really know about this stuff, but they seem to be good. People I have given the lotion to have all liked them. I do know they smell good. Amy sells the lotions and creams and more info can be found at Amy's web site.
Thursday the temperature was again in the low 20s, but this day no sun. Naturally it didn't feel as warm and there was no melting going on. No matter - I had indoor stuff to do before my trip.
I disassembled my wood stove's pipes that go to the chimney and took them outside to empty of soot and then to brush clean using a wire brush. Dirty work! Naturally I then had to get the vacuum cleaner out. I may not keep the cleanest house (what's wrong with a little dust?), but I do have limits.
While I had - uncharacteristically - started packing several days earlier I still had to finish the job. Hmmm... lots of stuff. Let's see... Amtrak allows for 3 checked luggage pieces. I went into the attic over the garage and found a large boxy suitcase my dad had put up there years ago. Or was it from the previous property owner from many, many years ago? Is it an antique suitcase? Well.. I'm using it - it's big. Of course packing took longer than I expected, and I didn't finish till around midnight.
Amtrak allows 2 carry on items, but I think that rule is only meant for the northeastern U.S. where lots of people ride the train. In my experience, unlike airplanes where passengers cram the overhead storage bins full to overflowing, train riders don't bring much personal luggage on board. It's odd as train trips usually last longer than the average plane trip. But the overhead racks - which hold more than the airline's overhead bins - are mostly empty.
Let's see... carry-on luggage... 3 suitcases. Oops. More than two! But that's not all... I had stuff in paper and plastic grocery bags. I don't know... a half dozen bags? I didn't count as I didn't want to know. What all was I taking? I don't know! Clothes, winter clothes and coats (bulky!), video tapes of movies to watch, a small suitcase filed with magazines to read, food to eat on the train, and food from my garden that won't keep while I am gone: several bags of beets, carrots, onions, parsnips, whatever... How will I get this on the train as carry-on luggage? Ah... time to go to bed as I must get up in 5 hours to get ready to catch the train. I'll worry about the luggage in the morning.
A call to the 1-800 Amtrak line and I was told the train was on time. I found, then set, my alarm clock; including in my bedtime prayers that the alarm would actually work this time!
Monday, January 23, 2006
The train vs. driving
For my trip home to visit my family over the Christmas holidays.. the pros and cons of taking the train vs. driving were:
Pros:
As regards the date I chose... it held. In fact it was a good date to leave. So far, so good!
Pros:
- I did not have to drive 700 miles across Montana during winter time on a narrow 2 lane highway. I've already had the experience many times - thank you.
- The train ticket price was not too much more than the cost of driving.
- I could relax and read and talk to other people on the train during the 13 hour journey. Unless you're in a hurry, who wouldn't want to take the train?
- I wouldn't have my car.
- I usually never leave when planned; something always comes up to delay my trip a day or two or three.
- I usually take lots of stuff along on my trips back to NoDak... How will I get it all on the train?
As regards the date I chose... it held. In fact it was a good date to leave. So far, so good!
December sunset bicycle ride
At the end of December, before I had my first cataract operation, late one afternoon I took my brother's bicycle out for a ride and a little exercise. The temperature was nice as it was in the mid 30s F. Warm for a North Dakota Christmas. And no wind - what a pleasure.
My mother's house is near the edge of town so it wasn't long before the houses and buildings fell away leaving open space. In the dim light of dusk I saw a large bird fly up from near the ground to light atop a telephone pole at the side of the road. A huge bird silhouetted against the darkening sky. Huge, as I wasn't even close and there was no missing it as it flew. As I passed near and under the pole I looked up to see a very large owl swiveling its head to watch me. So... the large owls on my place in Montana have followed me to North Dakota!
After passing the owl I passed the last of the nearby shelterbelts and the land opened to prairie. The horizon was straight with a slight downward tilt as I turned my gaze along the horizon moving from northwest to the south. I could see across the unseen large river valley over to the land across to the west and southwest. The few buildings and clusters of trees around old farmsteads on my side of the river valley were in silhouette against the darkening sky. The land was in darkness, and it made the few items there was to see, even fewer. The landscape was clean and uncluttered. Uncomplicated. Uncrowded. Pure.
With the empty horizon the whole world seemed available. Beyond the horizon lay ones dreams and the future's promise. Beyond the horizon were people, places, ideas. Everything was possible; all one had to do was travel beyond the horizon to realize their potential.
A half mile down the road was the highway bypass around the city, although "town" feels more comfortable to describe where I was. Compared to other places in North Dakota, Minot is a city. But I have traveled the world and been to what many consider to be cities, with hundreds of thousands, and millions of people. The highway bypass is over a quarter century old, but the town still has not grown out to the bypass. Far different than Rochester, MN where, in less than 5 years after I left, that city grew and encompassed their new bypass.
Few vehicles were on "my" bypass; mainly people coming off the work shift from the air force base to the north and heading home, or heading out to shop at the mall and commercial district that is now on the south edge of town and no longer in the central "downtown" area. Minot seems to have grown in only one direction the past 25 years, and now envelops the mall.
A pickup pulling a long 5th wheel stock trailer came from the oncoming direction, NE. The stock trailer was lit up with many parking lights along its sides. While not Christmas lights, the trailer seemed to be in the Christmas spirit. A diesel roar and a whoosh of air and the pickup and trailer were gone and rapidly moving away behind me. The "whoosh" mixed the air around me and soon I smelled the cargo of the trailer. Or maybe former cargo as it was now too dark to see the trailer's contents. The smell of cattle, manure, and hay. To me, sweet smells... good smells. Smells of animal life. My sense of smell is also better in the dark when my other senses are reduced. Would I have smelled the trailer's smell so vividly during the daylight? Or was I merely missing home and the smell of cattle and hay?
The color of the sky along the long straight horizon made me pause. The sun had already set but I knew precisely where it had gone down. To the SW a deep orange glow remained. During the North Dakota winter the sun no longer sets in the west. I imagined that if I followed the setting sun I would end up in California or Hawaii; some place warm.
As I moved my gaze to the west and northwest, then to the south, the bump of orange settled into a band of orange than thinned closer and closer to the horizon the further I looked from where the sun had set. The orange eventually blended into black and the horizon.
The orange band was not a constant color. The higher from the horizon the paler the orange became until the color was drained away and the sky became a whitish blue, then light blue, then dark blue before yielding into black halfway up from the horizon. Looking up and to the east some stars were making their debut.
As I rode I past a shelterbelt line I could see orange and blue through the trees as I looked back to where the sun had set. Even though the shelterbelt was a half mile away I could see each silhouetted tree in the shelterbelt rows. Thin black trees against a fading orange. This was a shelterbelt from my youth. My memories are of a dense forest, albeit only a half dozen rows thick. A North Dakota forest.
Warm temperatures, no wind, and a rich color palette in the sky... all was well with the world.
What a difference 24 hours make. My bicycle ride the next day brought a foggy grey featureless sky. Damp. No color. A temperature in the upper 20s and a slight breeze - by North Dakotan standards - at 10 mph. I rode north into the wind. I should have worn better gloves as after three and a half miles my hands were cold. I crossed the divided highway to turn my bicycle around. I stopped and stood with my back to the wind, took off my glasses and rubbed the thin layer of ice off their lenses. The world was again to be seen. Cupping my hands and blowing into them I warmed up my fingers and thumbs. Then off to home. I guess days like this are necessary to make me appreciate and savor the beautiful sunset of the prior day.
My mother's house is near the edge of town so it wasn't long before the houses and buildings fell away leaving open space. In the dim light of dusk I saw a large bird fly up from near the ground to light atop a telephone pole at the side of the road. A huge bird silhouetted against the darkening sky. Huge, as I wasn't even close and there was no missing it as it flew. As I passed near and under the pole I looked up to see a very large owl swiveling its head to watch me. So... the large owls on my place in Montana have followed me to North Dakota!
After passing the owl I passed the last of the nearby shelterbelts and the land opened to prairie. The horizon was straight with a slight downward tilt as I turned my gaze along the horizon moving from northwest to the south. I could see across the unseen large river valley over to the land across to the west and southwest. The few buildings and clusters of trees around old farmsteads on my side of the river valley were in silhouette against the darkening sky. The land was in darkness, and it made the few items there was to see, even fewer. The landscape was clean and uncluttered. Uncomplicated. Uncrowded. Pure.
With the empty horizon the whole world seemed available. Beyond the horizon lay ones dreams and the future's promise. Beyond the horizon were people, places, ideas. Everything was possible; all one had to do was travel beyond the horizon to realize their potential.
A half mile down the road was the highway bypass around the city, although "town" feels more comfortable to describe where I was. Compared to other places in North Dakota, Minot is a city. But I have traveled the world and been to what many consider to be cities, with hundreds of thousands, and millions of people. The highway bypass is over a quarter century old, but the town still has not grown out to the bypass. Far different than Rochester, MN where, in less than 5 years after I left, that city grew and encompassed their new bypass.
Few vehicles were on "my" bypass; mainly people coming off the work shift from the air force base to the north and heading home, or heading out to shop at the mall and commercial district that is now on the south edge of town and no longer in the central "downtown" area. Minot seems to have grown in only one direction the past 25 years, and now envelops the mall.
A pickup pulling a long 5th wheel stock trailer came from the oncoming direction, NE. The stock trailer was lit up with many parking lights along its sides. While not Christmas lights, the trailer seemed to be in the Christmas spirit. A diesel roar and a whoosh of air and the pickup and trailer were gone and rapidly moving away behind me. The "whoosh" mixed the air around me and soon I smelled the cargo of the trailer. Or maybe former cargo as it was now too dark to see the trailer's contents. The smell of cattle, manure, and hay. To me, sweet smells... good smells. Smells of animal life. My sense of smell is also better in the dark when my other senses are reduced. Would I have smelled the trailer's smell so vividly during the daylight? Or was I merely missing home and the smell of cattle and hay?
The color of the sky along the long straight horizon made me pause. The sun had already set but I knew precisely where it had gone down. To the SW a deep orange glow remained. During the North Dakota winter the sun no longer sets in the west. I imagined that if I followed the setting sun I would end up in California or Hawaii; some place warm.
As I moved my gaze to the west and northwest, then to the south, the bump of orange settled into a band of orange than thinned closer and closer to the horizon the further I looked from where the sun had set. The orange eventually blended into black and the horizon.
The orange band was not a constant color. The higher from the horizon the paler the orange became until the color was drained away and the sky became a whitish blue, then light blue, then dark blue before yielding into black halfway up from the horizon. Looking up and to the east some stars were making their debut.
As I rode I past a shelterbelt line I could see orange and blue through the trees as I looked back to where the sun had set. Even though the shelterbelt was a half mile away I could see each silhouetted tree in the shelterbelt rows. Thin black trees against a fading orange. This was a shelterbelt from my youth. My memories are of a dense forest, albeit only a half dozen rows thick. A North Dakota forest.
Warm temperatures, no wind, and a rich color palette in the sky... all was well with the world.
What a difference 24 hours make. My bicycle ride the next day brought a foggy grey featureless sky. Damp. No color. A temperature in the upper 20s and a slight breeze - by North Dakotan standards - at 10 mph. I rode north into the wind. I should have worn better gloves as after three and a half miles my hands were cold. I crossed the divided highway to turn my bicycle around. I stopped and stood with my back to the wind, took off my glasses and rubbed the thin layer of ice off their lenses. The world was again to be seen. Cupping my hands and blowing into them I warmed up my fingers and thumbs. Then off to home. I guess days like this are necessary to make me appreciate and savor the beautiful sunset of the prior day.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
2nd cataract operation
Well... I made it. My second cataract operation is over. I can see!!!
Now, after having a successful, and pain-free, cataract operation on my left eye one wouldn't think I'd be nervous going into the operation on my right eye. But I was. My main concern was being awake to "see" the operation as sharp objects would be poked into my eye, cutting it. What I call the 'cowboy on the ant hill ' syndrome. Everyone has told me they were conscious and aware during their cataract operations, so I wondered if my first operation where I didn't remember a thing was a fluke.
On the other hand I really wanted to get the second operation over with so I could see clearly and not have good and bad (unequal) vision.
The operation was over a week ago Thursday at 8:15 am; a hour and a half later in the day than my first operation. That meant an hour and a half of extra sleep. Try as I may, it was impossible for me to go to bed before 11 pm for either operation (or on any other day). No food or drink after midnight... *augh!* I was thirsty the next morning.
An hour and a half later in the morning than the first operation... and it was still dark outside when my brother drove me to the clinic. Winter darkness... *sigh* Only a half dozen cars were in the clinic's parking lot; more than last time, but not as many as I expected. I was told this is the "off" season for cataract surgery up here as many candidates are now wintering in Arizona.
I was early - 8:06 am - and a nurse took me back to get ready right after I walked through the door. This time I had a room of my own to change, wash my face with their special soap, and sit in a recliner for the initial preparation.
Different people this time, and no one who had names similar to friend's names. Then one nurse from last time popped her head in the door as she passed by and said with a smile, "Weren't you just here?"
"Yup, a week ago today."
The anesthetist was a guy this time - Jeff. (Okay, one exception on names of friends.) I asked for the same anesthesia as last time as that was "perfect". He said he would try. I told him I preferred not to be aware or awake but he said they don't put people completely under as that would mean they would stop breathing and extra oxygen support would be needed. My real friend Jeff had asked me if I was under "twilight anesthesia" the first time. Jeff the anesthetist said that is the layman's term. They call it "conscious sedation" or "IV sedation". If you google on "twilight anesthesia", you'll see a lot of breast implants web pages with this term. Okay... I think I'll use "conscious sedation" to describe what I had; and no I don't think Jeff has had, or is considering, breast implants.
The nurse came in and took my medical history - which went quicker this time as it had only been 1 week since my first operation. She also put the numbing and dilation drops in my eyes and inserted the IV. No problems inserting the IV this time. We had a pleasant time chatting about school, train travel and Montana, her daughter, and getting married after 40. (It takes a while to get prepared, and as I was a little nervous I was a little chatty.)
Her daughter wanted to be a flight attendant; and after she graduated from high school this past year, this woman drove her daughter to Vancouver, Washington to attend a 'flight attendant' school. After 3 weeks the daughter wanted to quit as she realized being an attendant wasn't the glamorous (or high paying) job she imagined; but she waited 3 more weeks until she could convince her best friend to also quit and return to N. Dakota. Why do women choose, or not choose, school based on whether their friends also go? Guys don't do this nearly as much. At least I didn't.
As for post-40 marriage, this woman has 2 brother-in-laws - one who got married recently for the first time after 40, and the other is engaged for the first time with a wedding planned in Cancun. "Didn't the hurricane wreck Cancun?" "They are rebuilding." So, there is hope for us old "Norwegian bachelors" after 40?
The wait this time was more relaxing as I didn't share an initial prep room with other patients (and their patient histories). Neither the IV needle nor my face itched this time. Things are looking good!
"Oooommmmmm" (Just trying to meditate to relax -- that's how it's done, isn't it? Chant something meaningless?) The little foot "booties" are made for people with small feet. I crossed my legs in the chair so my feet would be under my legs to keep them warm. Isn't this also the position one uses to meditate? "Oooommmmm..."
Dr. Williams interrupted my 'meditation' as he popped in briefly to say "Hi" and we exchanged pleasantries. "How are you?"
"Fine, and how are you?" (I think it is more important for the doc to be fine than me!)
I asked if he planned to video my operation (he had done so for my mother's operation), and he said yes, he usually videos one of the two operations. I asked for a copy of the video. Not for me... for mom.
I was expecting again to do a "drunken walk" to the pre-op room, but that didn't happen. I was steady on my feet. My eye was very dilated so it was a bright walk - or was I in some futuristic science-fiction movie where all the walls, ceilings and floors were white; the lights super bright so not a speck of shadow could be seen anywhere? "Hal? Can you hear me Hal? Open the airlock Hal. Hal?!"
In the room were only 3 or 4 beds, and the closest bed had a patient laying on it under the covers. I couldn't tell if it was a he or she - what is it about wearing a shower cap in bed? So sexy!
I got on the bed in the back corner and laid down. When we walked to the room the nurse had commented on how warm it was. "Huh? I think it is a little on the cool side, but then I was just sitting around." The nurse asked if I wanted heated blankets. Heck, ya!!!
Ah.. that feels better. Another nurse checked my eye to see how dilated it was. It was very dilated and she was happy. "My, what a big eye you have!" "The better to see you with my dear!"
She had a lovely light southern accent so I asked where she was from. Born in Florida, moved at 14 to Tennessee to live among the hillbillies (her words). "Why'd you come to North Dakota?" Her husband is in the air force and stationed at the Base. A good reason. I told her I really liked her accent; it was.. purdy. I told her Dakotans don't have accents. I couldn't open my eyes to see if she was buying it.
She hooked me up with the heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, and an IV with anti-nausea and muscle relaxant meds. And I said "Heck, ya!!!" when they asked if I wanted more warm blankets. Since they were so nice with the warm blankets I couldn't refuse when they put a shower cap on my head. *groan*
My blood pressure was higher than normal, but not as high as last time. That light southern accent must be why! So soothing and musical.
Before long they wheeled me into the operating room. I was aware of being moved this time, unlike last time. I was also conscious during the operation and would move my head when he asked me to lower my chin, or to look up or down with my eye. Otherwise I didn't (couldn't?) move. Augh!!!
Actually, the operation was like a dream: I was aware and would react when asked, but otherwise not concerned at all. Whatever... la-de-da!
In what seemed like a matter of a few minutes, the operation was over. From the videotape time the operation lasted 10-12 minutes. Oh really?! I didn't watch the tape as the idea of seeing my eye cut open and my lens sucked out... just doesn't have an appeal. Yuck! But my mom is fascinated by this kind of stuff (former nurse) and she was the one who wanted the copy of the tape. As she watched my operation on tape I shut my eyes, then sang "la-la-la!" when she started providing commentary to me. Then sang louder when she tried to talk over my voice. What's with moms anyway?!
Back to the operation... as I didn't seem to be as far under with anesthesia this time I had more of a memory afterwards. I ate my blueberry breakfast muffin as I recovered. In fact I got two muffins after I asked for a second one. The guy across from me was in a hurry to leave and didn't want anything at all to eat. Fool. What's your hurry? You can't see anything anyway!
At home I was more alert, and that was good and bad. Good in that being alert is generally a good thing; bad in that I wanted to read, watch TV, do something other than lay around with my eyes closed. While I had a patch over my eye, I figured it would be good to keep the eye closed. Easier said than done with one's non-winking eye.
I probably shouldn't have done that as the next morning my eye and surrounding muscles were sore; and that hadn't really occurred after the first operation. I think the strain of closing that eye while keeping my winking eye open may have contributed to the muscles' soreness. My eye felt fine until I opened it in the morning. Between the light and eye movement: ouch. The eye was still pretty sore several mornings after the operation. Now, over a week later, it is much better.
The morning after the operation I was at the doctor's office to have my eye checked and the eye patch removed. The vision test showed my vision to be 20/25. Pretty good only one day after the operation! My vision will vary for a few weeks while the eye heals. I had noticed that my other eye's vision got blurrier for a few days then better again.
20/25 and 20/60. Not bad. I don't need glasses to see. Actually that is kind of odd. For the first few days I thought, "I am wearing glasses"; but when I feel for them, I am not. Contact lens then. No... I am seeing this way with just my eyes. Amazing! My routine had been: first thing in the morning - put glasses on; last thing at night - take them off. I still catch myself attempting to do these things. I have worn glasses since 3rd grade. 40 years of needing glasses to see. 40 years and now I can see without glasses. In fact I can see better than I have seen recently with glasses, due to my cataracts and scratched up glasses lens. Amazing! I hope my eyes hold this way.
The difference in my two eyes' vision is on purpose. My left (20/60) is handier to see items closer, and with my right for intermediate and long distance. Focusing uses the eye's lens and muscle. A plastic lens doesn't expand or contract for focusing. That part of my focusing ability is gone. That is why the doc made each eye have a different vision.
Close one or the other eye for a slight difference in vision as needed. Still, as my vision settles I find that wearing reading glasses to read smaller print helps sharpen the words and make it easier to read.
My checkup a few days ago showed some signs of swelling, but that is normal. No infection. Well, so far so good. Here's to seeing the world without glasses. Hurray!
Now, after having a successful, and pain-free, cataract operation on my left eye one wouldn't think I'd be nervous going into the operation on my right eye. But I was. My main concern was being awake to "see" the operation as sharp objects would be poked into my eye, cutting it. What I call the 'cowboy on the ant hill ' syndrome. Everyone has told me they were conscious and aware during their cataract operations, so I wondered if my first operation where I didn't remember a thing was a fluke.
On the other hand I really wanted to get the second operation over with so I could see clearly and not have good and bad (unequal) vision.
The operation was over a week ago Thursday at 8:15 am; a hour and a half later in the day than my first operation. That meant an hour and a half of extra sleep. Try as I may, it was impossible for me to go to bed before 11 pm for either operation (or on any other day). No food or drink after midnight... *augh!* I was thirsty the next morning.
An hour and a half later in the morning than the first operation... and it was still dark outside when my brother drove me to the clinic. Winter darkness... *sigh* Only a half dozen cars were in the clinic's parking lot; more than last time, but not as many as I expected. I was told this is the "off" season for cataract surgery up here as many candidates are now wintering in Arizona.
I was early - 8:06 am - and a nurse took me back to get ready right after I walked through the door. This time I had a room of my own to change, wash my face with their special soap, and sit in a recliner for the initial preparation.
Different people this time, and no one who had names similar to friend's names. Then one nurse from last time popped her head in the door as she passed by and said with a smile, "Weren't you just here?"
"Yup, a week ago today."
The anesthetist was a guy this time - Jeff. (Okay, one exception on names of friends.) I asked for the same anesthesia as last time as that was "perfect". He said he would try. I told him I preferred not to be aware or awake but he said they don't put people completely under as that would mean they would stop breathing and extra oxygen support would be needed. My real friend Jeff had asked me if I was under "twilight anesthesia" the first time. Jeff the anesthetist said that is the layman's term. They call it "conscious sedation" or "IV sedation". If you google on "twilight anesthesia", you'll see a lot of breast implants web pages with this term. Okay... I think I'll use "conscious sedation" to describe what I had; and no I don't think Jeff has had, or is considering, breast implants.
The nurse came in and took my medical history - which went quicker this time as it had only been 1 week since my first operation. She also put the numbing and dilation drops in my eyes and inserted the IV. No problems inserting the IV this time. We had a pleasant time chatting about school, train travel and Montana, her daughter, and getting married after 40. (It takes a while to get prepared, and as I was a little nervous I was a little chatty.)
Her daughter wanted to be a flight attendant; and after she graduated from high school this past year, this woman drove her daughter to Vancouver, Washington to attend a 'flight attendant' school. After 3 weeks the daughter wanted to quit as she realized being an attendant wasn't the glamorous (or high paying) job she imagined; but she waited 3 more weeks until she could convince her best friend to also quit and return to N. Dakota. Why do women choose, or not choose, school based on whether their friends also go? Guys don't do this nearly as much. At least I didn't.
As for post-40 marriage, this woman has 2 brother-in-laws - one who got married recently for the first time after 40, and the other is engaged for the first time with a wedding planned in Cancun. "Didn't the hurricane wreck Cancun?" "They are rebuilding." So, there is hope for us old "Norwegian bachelors" after 40?
The wait this time was more relaxing as I didn't share an initial prep room with other patients (and their patient histories). Neither the IV needle nor my face itched this time. Things are looking good!
"Oooommmmmm" (Just trying to meditate to relax -- that's how it's done, isn't it? Chant something meaningless?) The little foot "booties" are made for people with small feet. I crossed my legs in the chair so my feet would be under my legs to keep them warm. Isn't this also the position one uses to meditate? "Oooommmmm..."
Dr. Williams interrupted my 'meditation' as he popped in briefly to say "Hi" and we exchanged pleasantries. "How are you?"
"Fine, and how are you?" (I think it is more important for the doc to be fine than me!)
I asked if he planned to video my operation (he had done so for my mother's operation), and he said yes, he usually videos one of the two operations. I asked for a copy of the video. Not for me... for mom.
I was expecting again to do a "drunken walk" to the pre-op room, but that didn't happen. I was steady on my feet. My eye was very dilated so it was a bright walk - or was I in some futuristic science-fiction movie where all the walls, ceilings and floors were white; the lights super bright so not a speck of shadow could be seen anywhere? "Hal? Can you hear me Hal? Open the airlock Hal. Hal?!"
In the room were only 3 or 4 beds, and the closest bed had a patient laying on it under the covers. I couldn't tell if it was a he or she - what is it about wearing a shower cap in bed? So sexy!
I got on the bed in the back corner and laid down. When we walked to the room the nurse had commented on how warm it was. "Huh? I think it is a little on the cool side, but then I was just sitting around." The nurse asked if I wanted heated blankets. Heck, ya!!!
Ah.. that feels better. Another nurse checked my eye to see how dilated it was. It was very dilated and she was happy. "My, what a big eye you have!" "The better to see you with my dear!"
She had a lovely light southern accent so I asked where she was from. Born in Florida, moved at 14 to Tennessee to live among the hillbillies (her words). "Why'd you come to North Dakota?" Her husband is in the air force and stationed at the Base. A good reason. I told her I really liked her accent; it was.. purdy. I told her Dakotans don't have accents. I couldn't open my eyes to see if she was buying it.
She hooked me up with the heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, and an IV with anti-nausea and muscle relaxant meds. And I said "Heck, ya!!!" when they asked if I wanted more warm blankets. Since they were so nice with the warm blankets I couldn't refuse when they put a shower cap on my head. *groan*
My blood pressure was higher than normal, but not as high as last time. That light southern accent must be why! So soothing and musical.
Before long they wheeled me into the operating room. I was aware of being moved this time, unlike last time. I was also conscious during the operation and would move my head when he asked me to lower my chin, or to look up or down with my eye. Otherwise I didn't (couldn't?) move. Augh!!!
Actually, the operation was like a dream: I was aware and would react when asked, but otherwise not concerned at all. Whatever... la-de-da!
In what seemed like a matter of a few minutes, the operation was over. From the videotape time the operation lasted 10-12 minutes. Oh really?! I didn't watch the tape as the idea of seeing my eye cut open and my lens sucked out... just doesn't have an appeal. Yuck! But my mom is fascinated by this kind of stuff (former nurse) and she was the one who wanted the copy of the tape. As she watched my operation on tape I shut my eyes, then sang "la-la-la!" when she started providing commentary to me. Then sang louder when she tried to talk over my voice. What's with moms anyway?!
Back to the operation... as I didn't seem to be as far under with anesthesia this time I had more of a memory afterwards. I ate my blueberry breakfast muffin as I recovered. In fact I got two muffins after I asked for a second one. The guy across from me was in a hurry to leave and didn't want anything at all to eat. Fool. What's your hurry? You can't see anything anyway!
At home I was more alert, and that was good and bad. Good in that being alert is generally a good thing; bad in that I wanted to read, watch TV, do something other than lay around with my eyes closed. While I had a patch over my eye, I figured it would be good to keep the eye closed. Easier said than done with one's non-winking eye.
I probably shouldn't have done that as the next morning my eye and surrounding muscles were sore; and that hadn't really occurred after the first operation. I think the strain of closing that eye while keeping my winking eye open may have contributed to the muscles' soreness. My eye felt fine until I opened it in the morning. Between the light and eye movement: ouch. The eye was still pretty sore several mornings after the operation. Now, over a week later, it is much better.
The morning after the operation I was at the doctor's office to have my eye checked and the eye patch removed. The vision test showed my vision to be 20/25. Pretty good only one day after the operation! My vision will vary for a few weeks while the eye heals. I had noticed that my other eye's vision got blurrier for a few days then better again.
20/25 and 20/60. Not bad. I don't need glasses to see. Actually that is kind of odd. For the first few days I thought, "I am wearing glasses"; but when I feel for them, I am not. Contact lens then. No... I am seeing this way with just my eyes. Amazing! My routine had been: first thing in the morning - put glasses on; last thing at night - take them off. I still catch myself attempting to do these things. I have worn glasses since 3rd grade. 40 years of needing glasses to see. 40 years and now I can see without glasses. In fact I can see better than I have seen recently with glasses, due to my cataracts and scratched up glasses lens. Amazing! I hope my eyes hold this way.
The difference in my two eyes' vision is on purpose. My left (20/60) is handier to see items closer, and with my right for intermediate and long distance. Focusing uses the eye's lens and muscle. A plastic lens doesn't expand or contract for focusing. That part of my focusing ability is gone. That is why the doc made each eye have a different vision.
Close one or the other eye for a slight difference in vision as needed. Still, as my vision settles I find that wearing reading glasses to read smaller print helps sharpen the words and make it easier to read.
My checkup a few days ago showed some signs of swelling, but that is normal. No infection. Well, so far so good. Here's to seeing the world without glasses. Hurray!
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Begin The Beguine
I decided to jump into the world of blogging. Or maybe "world" is not the right phrase... blogging seems more like a raging river. So many different voices and feelings and ideas; exciting and new, boring and predictable.
I've been told by friends that I live my life as if I am floating on a river letting the current take me wherever. Close friends may know a person better than that person knows himself, but while I sometimes drift along, I do take action to choose which channel I float down, or which part of the river I float in. I must be doing something right as I've seen plenty, yet never have gone over the falls.
While looking at various blogs, vlogs, memes, ytmnd clips, mashups, it reminded me how I felt when I first watched cable TV at the beginning of the 1980s. Such an increase in channels and content. Going from 3 to 20+ channels doesn't seem like a lot, but think of the increase as a percentage.
I remember watching "Night Flight" late Friday and Saturday nights on the fledgling USA network. This is when the network had air time to fill but no real identity. "Night Flight" was a mash of music movies and videos, and what appeared to be art school short films and animated clips. Who knew what would be shown next! But it would usually be something different, unusual, odd, boring, raw, young. The potential was there for voices other than the big corporate networks of CBS, NBC, and ABC.
Within a few years "Night Flight" exhausted itself. They began to repeat regularly, and what ideas once seemed new now seemed to be old and rehashed, as if there wasn't anything new to express. And we all know what happened, cable became commercial. USA networks is now what? A network that reruns recent TV shows and movies? A cable channel that seems like a number of other cable channels?
Anyway, now seems to be the time to join the blogging world. I may be arriving at the party a little late, but it has not been tamed. It seems young and unpredictable where one can be exposed to energy, excitement, a promise of something new, and of voices different than my own. Now is the time before the online world too becomes homogenized and commericalized.
Here's to now, and to the future.
I've been told by friends that I live my life as if I am floating on a river letting the current take me wherever. Close friends may know a person better than that person knows himself, but while I sometimes drift along, I do take action to choose which channel I float down, or which part of the river I float in. I must be doing something right as I've seen plenty, yet never have gone over the falls.
While looking at various blogs, vlogs, memes, ytmnd clips, mashups, it reminded me how I felt when I first watched cable TV at the beginning of the 1980s. Such an increase in channels and content. Going from 3 to 20+ channels doesn't seem like a lot, but think of the increase as a percentage.
I remember watching "Night Flight" late Friday and Saturday nights on the fledgling USA network. This is when the network had air time to fill but no real identity. "Night Flight" was a mash of music movies and videos, and what appeared to be art school short films and animated clips. Who knew what would be shown next! But it would usually be something different, unusual, odd, boring, raw, young. The potential was there for voices other than the big corporate networks of CBS, NBC, and ABC.
Within a few years "Night Flight" exhausted itself. They began to repeat regularly, and what ideas once seemed new now seemed to be old and rehashed, as if there wasn't anything new to express. And we all know what happened, cable became commercial. USA networks is now what? A network that reruns recent TV shows and movies? A cable channel that seems like a number of other cable channels?
Anyway, now seems to be the time to join the blogging world. I may be arriving at the party a little late, but it has not been tamed. It seems young and unpredictable where one can be exposed to energy, excitement, a promise of something new, and of voices different than my own. Now is the time before the online world too becomes homogenized and commericalized.
Here's to now, and to the future.
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