Catching Up

It's been so long since I wrote my story, I'd lost track of where I was. Or, even what I'd written. So I went back to the beginning of my own blog, to see where I wanted to go next.

Please, and thank you......if you haven't read about my early years on the farm, I really suggest you start there. It is much more fun and interesting than some of the "adult life" I've lived. I also found a few things that were missed or forgotten. I've decided to mention them before I pick up where I left off.

Typing should help with the exercise my hand and fingers really need. So, on to a couple of little tidbits that I've remembered by re-reading my own blog.

I mentioned how young we were when Mom taught us to love nature, animals, and all life. We learned by sitting quietly in the woods and waiting for small animals to come out to play. We learned by listening to her stories. Remember, she even let us keep the baby bat my brother S brought to her kitchen. She phoned the vet to find out how it could be saved. But, I remember an even earlier lesson, where I saw her practice what she preached. It must have been in the house in New Jersey. I was too young to remember Iowa. And, I know it wasn't after we came back to Ohio. So I was in New Jersey, sitting on the basement steps when I watched Mom washing clothes in the old wringer washer with a huge black snake in the rafters over her head. Fear of snakes must be part of our makeup when we are born. I remember being afraid to go into the basement. But, Mom never flinched....though she did keep an eye on him. He had been there for years and there were never any mice in that old farm house. She said she would rather have him in her basement then have mice in the house. She even felt bad when the house caught fire, and she knew he couldn't get out. Those early lessons can never be forgotten. I remember being furious with my second husband when he killed a big black snake at the new house we were building. Out in the woods behind the house...where it belonged...and not hurting anyone. And, my present husband teases me because I still catch bugs in the house and take them outside instead of killing them. Even spiders.....well....when I can. (I don't like spiders. Spider bites make me swell and itch and all kinds of rotten things..)

Now on the oposite side of that coin, I was reminded of one of my visits to Moms parents one summer. Someone pulled into Granddads driveway and opened the trunk of his car. There was a big tub with an enormous snapping turtle . The size never seen around here anymore, but more common back then. This man knew how much my grandparents loved turtle soup. I was probably 7 or 8 years old, but remember, I'd grown up on the farm. It didn't bother me to "help" butcher the turtle. Granddad shopped off the head with an ax, and then put in in a trash pile out back and warned me to stay away from it. That was how I learned that a snapping turtle can continue to snap hard enough to break up twigs, even after it's dead. Some kind of muscle reflex kind of thing. Whatever, it's true. I played with that head all week. When my family came to take me home, I couldn't wait to take my brothers out to show them. And, that turtle soup that my Grand Mother made has also stayed in my memory. It was very good.

Reading the earlier blog brought a huge irony to my attention. The story about my paratrooper Father teaching us to fall without getting hurt. By having his babies jump out of the haymow. Yeah, right. Here I sit with the worst injury of my life due to a fall!!!! Just what I get for bragging that I'd never been hurt in a fall. Well, I hadn't. Till I got old and went down so hard and fast, (can I blame it on the dark?) that I hit the concrete before I knew I was falling. I have just accepted this as another lesson that I had to learn. Though I'm still not sure what it is teaching me. Patience....of course. It isn't going to be over soon. And, I have to have patience with everything around me when I hurt so bad I just want to be left alone. I'm learning to be a good person with humor to get through it. When all I want to do is hide in the house, and avoid life. Can't gripe at the therapists, none of this is their fault. I do want to blame the doctor who set the cast too tight and pinched my flesh just below the underside of my thumb so that it turtured me for the almost 8 weeks the cast was on. And left me with nerve damage that isn't going to heal. But, it would be very hard to prove any of that was his fault, and probably cost me more in lawyer fees and self respect then I could ever get back. I doubt that I will ever file for any of that, unless the damage proves more permanently painful then I can handle. Or, I hear that he has done this kind of damage to others. That will need to be addressed. But, first I have to heal to the point of knowing how well I can heal. Patience. If there is more to learn, it is still ahead of me. Meanwhile, I will try to finish catching up with the reading of my own blog. So I can carry on with my life, and tell the rest of my story.