The big 9-0

Yesterday we celebrated my mother's 90th birthday. How could the little girl I once was have ever imagined I would one day be singing "Happy Birthday" to my ninety year old mommy along with my husband of 35 years and two of my grown children? A month ago, she thought she was turning 70 this year. Several times in the past few weeks, she mentioned she would be 80. She was dumbfounded to receive a note from her pension plan which congratulated her on her 90th birthday. It couldn't possibly be, but it was.

It was a year ago that she began a serious long decline. The physical problems were in the forefront for many months. I honestly couldn't have foreseen that she'd live to see this birthday let alone rebound as well as she has. Once she was doing better physically, alas her mental murkiness became evident. She's forgotten many things but she still knows her family and thoroughly enjoys all the attention.

Yesterday she really was overcome by emotions on several occasions. Her room was full of beautiful floral arrangements. She received many phone calls. Many people thought to send her birthday cards, the neatest of which was a beautiful large home-made card with greetings signed by 62 people from her old church. We brought her a vanilla latte, a favorite treat, to wash down her birthday cake. After she opened her presents, we wheeled her outside to enjoy the April sunshine. In the words of our newspaper's social correspondent "a good time was had by all".

Moonshine IL pop.2

To get to Moonshine IL, you must drive to the middle of nowhere and turn left. In fact there is no way from here to there. With an expert navigator and some luck I located the legendary establishment on the first try.

Inside there are no tables, only benches where the customers can sit while waiting for their burgers to be grilled. Pour yourself a coffee or grab a bottle of soda from the cooler. Pick out some chips and soon Helen will call your name to let you know your burger is ready. There are picnic tables should you wish to eat alfresco. The bathrooms are alfresco too. We ate outside hanging on to our chip bags and napkins which the wind kept trying to blow away. For burgers such as these, such trials only made them taste better.

This lovely spring day brought out a mix of people: farmers, workmen, a couple of college boys and a church group. Pickup trucks definitely were de rigueur in Moonshine, that is unless it is a Saturday when one of the biker tours roll in. There is a sign which states that one day in 2003 they served 710 sandwiches. Keep in mind, the grill is shut off promptly at 12:30pm and the store closes exactly at 1:00. No lingering over one last cup of coffee. If you want to linger, get your butt there earlier. They open at 6:00 am.

O, the wonders to behold!

Last night younger daughter and I saw the first lighties of the year. Yay!

Today hubster, daughter and I revisited the heron rookery, checked in on mama bald eagle who is faithfully sitting on her nest, and viewed an osprey who has newly arrived at a nearby lake. The DNR erected several osprey roosts there last year and they clearly have won the osprey seal of approval. Daughter, friend of slow moving creatures, helped two wandering box turtles to cross the road.

This afternoon the hubster and same daughter checked out our favorite mushroom spot. Success! These dear people brought home a big bag full of morels. My, oh, my! All I have to do is soak off the dirt and bugs, slice them up and saute these yummy delicacies in some garlic and butter.

Last but not least, the hummingbirds are returning to the our feeder.

Bye-bye bad bird

The 2007 season cow bird hunting season is now officially open.From this point any cow bird found on our property is in mortal danger. For many years, the hubster has shot as many of these parasitic birdies as he can, but every spring there are more. And every spring an expanding collection of spent shotgun shells lines up on our back porch shelf. The avian body count may exceed the number of empty shells because the hubster not infrequently hits two birds in one shot. One time, I do believe, he got a triple. Believe you me, it's a real challenge to avoid any collateral damage of shooting some nice birds or the feeder. Our shotgun lies in waiting on our kitchen table so it can be grabbed quickly any time a cowbird is spotted.

We have had only one complaint from a neighbor but there is no way a shot gun pellet could go that far as he claims it did. He's the nervous type, don't you know. When we fire our rifles, we only shoot at targets because a bullet can travel a lot farther. The sound of gun shots do make people nervous, more so after an event like the one at Virginia Tech this week; however country people use their guns for pest control among other things. And cowbirds are definitely pests. They lay their eggs in the nests of other birds and the larger cowbird hatchlings will push out the bonafide hatchlings. The result is an increase in the cowbird population and a decrease in songbirds. Other pests of the two legged variety can be discouraged from coming around as well.

In a few weeks, I will be going to a shooting clinic for women sponsored by the NRA. I hope to pick up some pointers which will improve my aim and my comfort in handling firearms. I have bird shot filled bullets in my .38 revolver. Maybe it's time to help the hubster in his species cleansing campaign. Wait...there's one now!

My son, the politician

This grinning young man is the newly elected councilman of our fair city. Son is shown here with his best friend in front the clothesline hung with the official precinct printouts. I rather like the county clerk's multi-colored clothespins. If it's possible, I'm grinning even more widely than he is right now. I'm mighty proud of that boy!

Books and Music: something old, something new

Easter was lovely...talked to all but one member of my family. With that one, we exchanged phone messages so she knew the old folks at home were thinking about her and we knew she was thinking about us. It appears she and Mr. Wonderful were invited by a friend's family for brunch. Other daughter was pampered by her husband's family. Rumor has it, she was sent home with Easter goodies, fresh strawberries and angel food cake.

Taxes are done for another year. All I have to do is write the checks and mail off the returns. I can't remember the last time we got money back even with yearly increases in our estimate tax payments. The Hubster bemoaned the sad state "Trust the government to tax money you haven't even made yet". The Bush administration tax cuts certainly haven't trickled down to us.

I currently have my nose in Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five". I can't believe I missed this (dare I say?) classic. The atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki perhaps have eclipsed the fire bombing of Dresden in the historical narrative of WWII, but I'm so glad Vonnegut tells this city's story as only a man who lived through it could. It has not lost it's impact over the years. In 2007 depleted uranium may have replaced burning jellied gasoline, but effects of war on its returning soldiers and victims last a lifetime. When I started my analytic training, I was astonished to learn that we are still mopping up the emotional damage done by WWII. Not to mention a fair number of our patients are the sons and daughters of Korean and Vietnam war veterans or are themselves veterans. My esteemed colleague to the east is fast becoming an expert in treating Gulf war I and Gulf war II vets. To quote Vonnegut: So it goes.

Another interesting read is The Mistress's Daughter by A.M. Homes. The author was adopted shortly after birth. Her young birth mother was the mistress of an older married man. It is a difficult book to read, but helpful to me because I work with several families who have adopted kids. It is a misconception that children adopted at birth will only know their adopted families and thus have no emotional difficulties. I'd like that to be true but the fact is the first experience of their life is rejection, being discarded and found unacceptable by their birth mom and dad. This is a most worthwhile look at what it's like to be adopted and to meet one's biological parents.

Before I close, my album of the week is Swing by Suzy Bogguss. It's not a new CD, just new to me. I found Suzy strolling around iTunes which I do for fun sometimes. If you have iTunes or Rhapsody check her out.

Good Friday

I should have known it was going to be an unusual day when it began snowing while I drove to work. Last week people were wearing shorts and sandals. Spring flowers were in full bloom. And now it was snowing. Odd weather throws people off. Long weekends are also unsettling.

One patient of mine had called the office requesting an earlier appointment that day. We played phone tag for a while. I was waiting for her to call back when one of my colleague's patients called in a panic. I calmed her down as best as possible. I reassured her she was in good hands and left a note for her analyst. When I finally got through to my patient's home, her husband answered the phone. There was great relief in his voice when heard it was me calling. I had space for her to come in early.

When this woman came in, she spilled out a heartbreaking story about the accidental death of her oldest daughter's classmate the day before. Seeing as this happened in another community, this was the first I'd heard of it. It was a some kind of bike accident. The dead child was 12. Yesterday was the first time I had occasion to lend out my copy of the book When a Friend Dies.

An hour or so later, there's a phone call from another patient who I've been treating for many years. She is hysterical. She developed a temporary blind area in one eye and her preschooler was throwing up. She feared something was making her child sick. I gave her the appointment time that was open because of the rescheduling of the first patient. During the hour, I find out that her eye doctor thought she'd had what is called an ocular migraine. I also learned (as I had suspected) that she'd been horribly constipated for the past two weeks and had been straining on the pot. Years ago she'd consulted me because of her debilitating headaches. Once she started drinking plenty of water, eating high fiber cereal, eating a banana a day and walking regularly, a life time of constipation induced headaches vanished. Once she knew what she needed to do to avoid any more scary trips to the eye doctor, we talked about her worries concerning her kid. It turned out the tot got a tummy ache and puked after a visit to Grandma's. Well, dear old Grandma forgot that it's not wise to give little people too many treats and had stuffed the kid full of Easter candy before sending him home.The only thing making the kid sick was an over-indulgent Grandma. One more mother reassured and settled down.

Last patient came in. Actually it was only one half of a couple I've been treating for a while.Things had been really weird between them this past week. I couldn't quite pinpoint the problem. It seems the tension has been building for a couple days. On top of this, she told me, that yesterday her step-son got the news that his friend and classmate was killed in a bike accident when he was at her house. It was the same tragic story rocking yet another family. Everything she talked about and even her dreams had to do with dead children. It was death, death and more death. It was her dream that helped me to understand. It was a very complex multi-layered dream which brought up a really terrifying time, three Aprils ago when the doctors informed her that her tiny infant daughter would have to have open heart surgery. There's a lot more there, but I believe we did the work we needed to do last night.

Then I drove home through more snow flurries. Hubster greeted me with the happy news that oldest daughter got the new job that she really wanted. It will be a good opportunity for her...room to advance, a stimulating environment and lots of great benefits. It was a hard day, yet a productive one and it ended with some truly wonderful news. It really was a good Friday, yes it was.

Uncle Alex

In his most recent book, A Man without a Country, Kurt Vonnegut introduces his readers to his good uncle, Uncle Alex. Uncle Alex's chief complaint about others was that most people never notice when they are happy. He was known to spontaneously exclaim during pleasant family occasions "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is."

Vonnegut goes on to explain that he does this and so do his kids. No doubt his kids are teaching their children to notice when they are happy. He urges his readers to notice as well.

I ate lunch with the hubster out on the porch yesterday. It was one of those marvelous days when spring was absolutely exploding. While munching our fat hamburgers, we looked out on newly leafed out trees, and blooming dogwood and red bud. I told him about Uncle Alex and then murmured "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is."

A Springtime tribute to my babies

Eternal Father, strong to save....




Quaecumque Sunt Vera.....





Lux et Veritas