A Good Head of Steam

“You’re dehydrated,” said the doctor.

Not me. I have an iced tea, an iced coffee and a small glass of fresh squeezed limeade I stole from my grandson, sitting before me. 

My friend was in the hospital after a fall. She was dehydrated. That meant her electrolytes were low. She was in pain from the fall. On top of that, she was in a state of nervous hypertension.

So what did they do?

First, she was admitted to the senior section—that discombobulated her. Next, and you won’t believe this, they gave her an Alzheimer’s test.

She said, “I couldn’t understand even the nurse’s questions. This is a phenomenon that happens when a person is under stress and fear, and she flunked the Alzheimer’s test.  

They were there to “Help her,” they said.

So they diagnosed her with early onset Alzheimers and sent her home. A fine help that was.

That was like a Witch Doctor killing a chicken in front of her eyes, waving it over his head and splattering blood around the room.

The diagnosis is now lodged in her brain.

Yeah, I think they ask who the Vice president is as well. Don’t ask me. I think it’s Biden, but I might say Chaney, or Quayle or Bush or Gore. Hey, I remember Johnson and Nixon.

And I do not believe my friend has Alzheimer’s.

In earlier days we had joked that if someone gave us a list of words and asked us to repeat them we would fail. There she was facing her fears.

.

You do not give a test to someone under strain and trauma. If she wanted the test, wait until she was out of pain, hydrated and calm.

But that diagnosis is now stuck in her brain and it sent me off on a tirade.

"Adam was the only man who, when he said a good thing, knew that nobody had said it before him."—Mark Twain

I can't leave my computer for a minute. While I was replenishing my drinks, Obi climbed aboard his favorite sitting place.

P.S. When planning travel, think of me. www.seaglasstravel.com

The Earth Laughs in Flowers

This morning I was on the prowl for a pink dogwood and found this beauty. 
I love, love, love this tree...

The earth is laughing great guffaws now—we ought to be dancing in the streets.

We used to have a crab apple tree in the yard that would stop traffic.

This was from my childhood, the fruit farm I mentioned in my last blog. The tree was a big as an oak and as is the case with apple trees, the leaves and blossoms pop at the same time. The result is a vision of awesome proportions. People would stop to photograph it.

Our cat, too, stopped traffic one year. 

He was clipped like a male lion. We weren’t being mean to our cat, with him living on the farm, and with long abundant thick hair he would collect foxtails and his fur would turn into a mat. So, on occasion, we would clip him. That year I got creative.

One blogger guru said you must add value to your blog otherwise nobody will read it. He said, if I said "I took my daughter to the park," no one would read further. But if I developed a list of 5 unusual parks in the area a reader would keep on reading.

Not me.

I don’t care about parks in his vicinity I want to know the experience with his daughter.

It’s human interest.

Guess it’s just me.

Long ago when my girls were about four and one, we would often walk to the grocery store. Talk about stopping to smell the roses. Or maybe pick a California poppy or say “Hi.” to the lady in the yard. Like a dog sniffing its way down the street, children know to soak up the experience. It was an event.

I got smart this morning, at least with one thing. I took both dogs for a spin around the pond, and while trying to photograph a wild rose, their constant giggling or pulling of the least was preventing this photographer from doing her best work.

Stand on the leash stupid!

Ok.

Got it.

My find last month, March 17, I was in Wilsonville, OR, and came upon Monument park...

I have to show you this, It isn't about flowers. But then, her name is Sweet Pea.

Saturday my little girl graduated from intermediate puppy class and is wearing her mortarboard. When she graduated from beginner class, the teacher tried to put a hat on her head and she turned into a squirrel--impossible to hold, and ripped off the elastic headband. 

Lastly, mouse pad--mouse--my hand--cat's paw. He wins. I'm out of here.

When I was 5 years old, my mom told me that happiness was the key to life.

When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down “happy”.

They told me I didn’t understand the assignment.

I told them they didn’t understand life.

– John Lennon