The Veery

It took some convincing but I was allowed to drive, alone, to visit a very old friend at her cabin, the Veery, outside Great Falls. Although I hadn't seen Cyd since college we reconnected on Facebook a few years ago and she asked me to join her in Highwood, Montana.

If I had any sense of direction before my accident, the traumatic brain injury I sustained in 1991 wiped it all away. I knew I had to get myself to Great Falls first, somewhere in the middle of the state, but hadn't been there for years. I talked with Cyd on Facebook Instant Messenger to get directions and Dan worked his phone to look at maps and found an actual photo of her place on MapQuest. Yes, it's cool you can do that but my appreciation for the app pales in comparison to Dan's excitement. He printed out maps and directions and presented me with his MapQuest packet along with direction specifics so I was set, or so I thought.

The morning I departed, Dan reviewed the directions but as is the case a lot of the time, I assumed everything he said would be forgotten so I did not spare any effort there. Kissed him good bye and headed to Starbucks, my 1st stop (before even leaving town.) Once I was set with an iced coffee and an order of egg bites, I hit the road.

What I heard but forgot was that I was to use my map and directions rather than just have a voice from my phone direct me. We had trouble recently with our car's battery dying and they tried to link it it to our use of a charger so I hadn't used it since. The charger, that is. Right about then, leaving town, I should have thought, "Oh, my phone will die mid direction unless I plug it into my car," but I didn't. Didn't think it, didn't do it.

The phone did die, just outside Great Falls but I remembered the name of the exit I was supposed to take. I remembered it as I read it and was past it so I took the next exit. Twists and turns, like on and off ramps don't register correctly so I pulled over as soon as I could and shifted from phone to the package of maps. I was afraid to plug my phone in so I relied on my maps. Cyd left the cabin in search of me after my arrival time came and went and it was a good thing because I had missed a turn. I think I would've found it on my own but I was glad to see her happy face!

The Veery is a beautiful home wrapped like a gift by its surroundings so "cabin" is a misnomer.  I was happy to see that the Cyd who helped carry my bags in was the Cyd I remembered from so many years ago. We ate and drank and talked nonstop for a couple days. We sat in all the house's  key spots to enjoy the surrounding wildness as well as our wine and watched the sun set from the Veery's deck. 

The memories and feelings they bring will be with me forever so thanks Cyd!

The Walk II

  This was taken before the invasion

When I got out of the pool, filled with a squiggly mass of small bodies, I phoned Dan twice but there was no answer. I  wanted to take my teacher self away from the group and go home, which I could see from the pool. I decided to walk.  Yes, I chose to walk, an activity I dislike very much so now you know how ready I was. But I had to get there unassisted as I didn't have my trusty rollater; my walker on wheels. 

I packed up my big, plastic, yellow pool bag with my two large and now wet, towels, topped off with 2 noodles; big pieces of spaghetti that float.  I was delighted when the pool noodles fit nicely; horizontally just under the bag's handles.  I was set and my objective was in sight.

The distance to my house is only a quarter of a mile as the crow flies, but that particular route would take me through rough, not so level, empty building lots with rocks and stuff; definitely not very Lexie-friendly. I would have to stick to side walks once I navigated a grassy field. That field reminded me of my cross country coaching years when I walked the same kind of areas on a regular basis. Uneven surfaces have always been hard for me but the difficulty has skyrocketed. 

With those days in mind I set my first goal; the side walk that lead home. It was like I was listening to myself coaching middle school cross country athletes. Back then, my co-coach ran with the kids up front and I rode my recumbent three wheeler at the end as we snaked through neighborhoods and parks. There always seemed to be one kid that trailed well behind even the slowest kids. We ended up side by side and became buddies. We played games to survive the workout. 

We'd pick a landmark no more than two blocks away and that was our goal and once we got there they could walk. When we reached the spot we picked the next goal and so we plodded up the hill that was part of our daily run. I never had an athlete that quit to walk more than a few times. I coached them to pick them up and put them down in a slog; a slow jog.

No, I can't even slog so I set off on the walk home, walking. My bag was heavy and cumbersome. Walking unassisted, totally off balance was not going to be fun, but I knew I'd make it.

When I reached the my first goal, the side walk, I set another; the stop sign in the shade. I did stop in the shade but only to re assess  my handling of the bag and shifted it to my good side. I continued on, setting, reaching and resetting goals.

I made it home but it was not easy or fun. 

DNA, B and C

I had to do it. A niece did it and found no Native American stuff, at all, even though by my calculation she should have had some.

Let's figure it out. My mom Shirley always claimed Native heritage because her father, John Baptiste Fournier, was 1/2 Assiniboine; Native Canadian. He thought of himself, a half breed and rightfully hated the words.  He was one of several children and because his single mom could no longer feed them, he was shipped off to an orphanage. I cannot even imagine how I would be able to make such a choice but she chose him as the oldest boy. Therefor one of his parents needed to be full Assiniboine.  I heard this 'story' throughout my life and I never imagined my great grandmother as a Native woman. If that's the case, my mother's father's father was Native. I'll have to ask my cousin, maybe she will know; but I doubt it.

The story goes, "Johnny ran from the orphanage and kept going." He eventually settled in Montana and opened the Coral Bar and Johnny's Barbershop which is now Moose's Saloon. Mom said he was French Canadian Indian, and described him as a 'dandy' who bootlegged his way to Montana during prohibition. The pictures of him I've seen prove this to be true; he was a man devoted to style, neatness and fashion and I thought he looked native.

If my grandpa was half native, my mom was a quarter and I should be 1/8th or 12 1/2 %. I am not. If I believe my DNA test then 43% of me is from England. Wales and Northwestern Europe, 22% is from Norway, 19% from Sweden and 17% from France.

I'll put that report away now.

Pool Shenanigans?

Most of my adult life, I have been involved in education. I taught for others, in my own classroom, worked as a Special Education Aide, coached three middle school sports and even worked as a crossing guard for a year.  My latest stint was volunteering in a kindergarten class. Bottom line is I've spent a ton of time around children.

The other day I went to the pool and very much enjoyed watching four preteen girls play. One was definitely in charge; acting as both writer and director of their skit.. She informed one friend that she was a wolf that had been raised by her, a human. Another girl kid was involved somehow but the fourth girl, who was obviously younger, was kind of left out of the story.

Her plan to work her way back into the group was to circle them, crying out that she was 'the baby.' She circled the wolf-child and the other two girls several times until finally the writer/director took notice. She told Baby that she had on water wings and was just learning to swim. Baby took her cue and did her take on baby-swimming-with-water-wings. The wolf and girls continued their game until Baby again interrupted. Writer/Direct narrated as Baby acted things out; she said, "Oh, now you take off your water wings and start to drown but I save you."  Baby, who had originally been left out, ended up lighting up the pool/stage. The kids' story ended and they soon left with their moms. 

I  wasn't expecting what happened next. Soon after the girls/moms were gone, a heard of children enter the pool area. As the group set up fairly close to where I sat, I watched. There was four to seven (they seemed to come and go) older kids who might have been 15-17 years old.  And with them was twenty or more smaller kids. They seemed to be toddlers up to about ten years old.

As the teens applied sunscreens to the children there seemed to be a plan. The tots knew who to go to for their lube job as each teen slathered up many littles. As the kid were dismissed by their applicators, they immediately got in the water. So far so good.

A few minutes in, a little boy, three or four years old, sporting a set of connected water wings scampered by me. Hopping around like he needed to relieve himself, the jumping bean approached one of the teenage girls. He told her several times he had to go to the bathroom. Finally, she seemed to understand and pointed in the direction of the bathrooms and  turned and walked away. 

The little boy was flummoxed. He followed the teen and told her again that he had to pee. She seemed as confused as the kid. She didn't know he needed the wings removed and that her job most likely included leading him to a toilet. He must have indicated that help was needed because she finally took off  his flotation device and led him to the restroom door. I was proud of her.

Then, when all the littles were in the pool, the teens applied their own sun screen. They appeared fairly responsible. But then I noticed a teenage boy who was playing with a young girl. She seemed shy and lucky to have the attention of one of the big boys but that good feeling soon vanished. The teenager was trying to engage her in a splash game but she didn't seem that into it. His banter ran non stop and he seemed to be telling her what she was feeling and how he expected her to respond. 

Conversation went like this: 

Teenage Boy: "Are you splashing me? I think you're splashing me. Do you want to splash me? I can tell you do. Just go ahead and do it."

Girl Child: looks confused, finally sends a weak splash in his direction

Teenage Boy: "You wanna water fight? OK!"

Then he pushed a wave a water forcefully into her unsuspecting face. She was flabbergasted! She was on the edge of tearing up but he laughed out loud and told her, once again, to splash him. She didn't seem to enjoying his company very much but he never left her side and his banter never stopped. Finally, she seemed to disengage and was able to join another group.  I was relieved. 

The teacher in me had wanted to intervene but I didn't quite know what to do. I may not have it in me anymore. I didn't even search for those kids when I got back in the pool to cool off. By then, there were so many swimmers in the pool I just sat on some steps in shallower water. I wasn't there long before I decided to call Dan for a golf cart ride home.  He was on the neighbor hood mini course but I was done with children and wanted to go home.

When I didn't reach him on a second attempt I decided to walk home and I did.

We Made It

I titled a previous post, "Boise or Bust," and am happy to report we did not bust. We did not, however, end up in Boise. We settled ten miles West in a town called Eagle. We bought the first house I found on the Internet, once my search had real intent behind it.

West Striker Lane is in a development with three nicely manicured and maintained, practice golf holes with pars of three, four and five. Dan plays two or three golf balls at once and plays the three holes several times. He likes it when I ride along in the golf cart but it is not just used for golf.

   

The Legacy development, has two swimming pools; one very close. That's where the golf cart comes in! Even though the pool is within site, it is too far for me to walk to comfortably so Dan uses it to chauffeur me.

I had all kinds of plans to make myself an exercise routine which included riding my recumbent bike and doing stuff in the pool (something I have done on and off since my accident in 1991,) but it has not happened. I have certainly enjoyed the time spent at the pool but have only actually exercised a few times. 

    

But I have an other exercise favorite; my recumbent 3 wheeler. In Kalispell I biked with my buddy Justin who is a very old friend. He is one of the reason I am such an enthusiastic triker. We started riding from Kalispell to Kila and the ant family, then from Kalispell to Somer's and Del's Bar for beers and cheese bread.

I sure miss him for our occasional long ride, drive in the mountains, or to out of the way places to see odd things like mushrooms pushing their way through very old asphalt on a country road. 

We rode going to the Sun in Glacier and came up the back side too. Our longest ride was around Lake Koocanusa, almost! We were asked to call it quits about 10 miles short of the end. We rode for several hours on the road, in the sun, but it was getting late. Glad it was their call, not ours.

No more Justin but I have been lucky to reconnect with another old friend Donna. We taught together back when I lived in Boise and now that I have a second recumbent trike it's been great to ride with her. The second recumbent is for Dan and that still may happen in the future but as of today he has made it out once. I won't give up.

Donna is in fact my new Justin. We ride, lunch and swim together often and I'm so lucky she puts up with me. No accidents, for either of us yet, but we wonder if we really are safe together. Neither one of us can read a map worth a dam but we bring Serie along for help.

But wait. That's not all! My daughter and her fiance Joe live around the corner. Yes, they age getting hitched so we are glad we're so close. 

Ideally, I would be located between my two Idaho kids but at least I am now only 40 minutes from my son and his gal Brittany in SW Boise so I've been able to see more of them.

Bonus: Brit and her mom are joining me to tie dye soon! I may post our creations.