Groundhog Day

With all the stress of the possible work layoffs, and my current health problems, I looked forward to last weekend as a way to escape it all. My new meds gave me enough of a window of comfort to allow a bit of wilderness adventure free from this urban jungle we both live in. The experience exceeded my expectations. We enjoyed both time alone and time with friends, and laughed and talked ourselves silly.

The original plan was to drive about two hours south east of Akron to a cabin in the woods which Rudy has shared with his hunting buddies for many years. We packed his guns, ammo, full camouflage gear, and predator calls, into the truck in hopes of hunting coyote. The only coyote we saw was from the window of the truck as we rounded the last hills before the cabin. It was large and running at a full gallop across the hills. We were dressed in full camo and ready to go in search of him and his brothers. Unfortunately it was windy with a pretty good threat of storms, so we chose to leave the guns behind and just try calling them in to our cameras.

The stiff winds blew the sound of the calls away and out of the hearing range of any hidden predators in the area. So we simply began a slow and steady hike through the woods and hills surrounding the cabin. I had little or no energy in the heat but Rudy was patient as always and we took it slow and careful with lots of pit stops. The fields were peppered with beautiful wild flowers and the scenery was breathtaking. We arrived back at the cabin just ahead of the raindrops, headed to the truck and continued to the home of a friend of Rudy's to spend the rest of the weekend.

Sharon and Maury were such kind hosts. They own hundreds of acres in Harrison county just a few minutes from the tiny town 0f Cadiz. Their land encompasses thick woods, scattered beaver ponds and acres of open reclaimed coal mining hills. Shortly after our arrival, we were invited to hop on their four wheelers and take a tour of their property. The first ride of the afternoon was scary for me. I've never liked motorcycles or ATVs of any kind. Give me a bicycle or my own two legs over an engine any day. After a while, though, I began to relax and simply enjoy the view from the rear of the four wheeler and it was fantastic.

We returned to the Hernadez home for steak and chicken on the grill. We ate while the men swapped ridiculous hunting stories which kept us choking with laughter. After dinner and just before sunset, we remounted the four wheelers and went for another ride. We headed for the hills and valleys of the reclaimed coal mining area in search of deer. It began to feel like we were on safari in the Serengeti plains of Africa. Herds of ten or more deer ran across our line of sight at every single hill top and turn. Amazing bucks with the biggest antlers I've ever seen ran virtually beside us as we tried to keep up with them. One particular buck simply stared at us from a safe distance never showing any concern for our noisy vehicles. As we stopped to stare him down, he squatted slightly and dumped a load of deer droppings that would have made any hunter proud. After this little show of disrespect, he held his head high and simply walked off. "Take that mighty hunters" He seemed to say. We laughed till we cried.

Since deer hunting is no longer a sport Rudy participates in and we were unable to call in any coyotes, he was hungering to show off his talents as a hunter and sharpshooter. The only thing available to him were the groundhog infested fields outside of the Hernadez home. The damage a groundhog can do to a field is mind boggling. Like rats in an abandoned warehouse, these critters continually pop their heads out of their holes in the fields where farmers try to grow crops. Because of the size, depth, and frequency of these holes, tractors become disabled or worse yet, tip over onto their drivers, livestock and humans alike break legs, and crops are destroyed. Rudy hates groundhogs! At Maury's request, we began a groundhog hunt from the car port of his home. I was the spotter and Rudy was the marksman. We bagged four of the little varmits in one afternoon before we called it quits.

Sunday we awoke to steaming cups of coffee which Rudy and I downed from the comfort of the patio facing the open fields. All was peaceful until I saw a groundhog pop up his little head about one hundred feet from us. I made the mistake of pointing him out to Rudy saying, "He's laughing at you because you don't have a gun in your hand." Challenge issued, Rudy rose from his seat, put down his cup of coffee, and began to stalk the groundhog. The hunt was on. Mr G would pop up and Rudy would freeze. As soon as it's head went down he snuck up a few more feet on the clueless critter. I watched in disbelief as suddenly Rudy sprang at the groundhog and began chasing it around the field. Now Rudy's heart is bigger and stronger than his legs, so at one point he over ran his abilities and took a serious tumble. With tears streaming down my face, I cheered him on. He sprang up, once again, and caught the groundhog at the next turn booting it right in the ass. Then, with a John Travolta swagger, he lifted all five fingers of his right hand claiming his fifth groundhog hit of the weekend. The groundhog took what was left of his pride and ducked back into his burrow, but Rudy claimed a kick as good as a kill.

These are the things our memories together are made of and it's hard to even imagine what other people do on weekends anymore. What we have may not be normal but I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

What Now?

I'd been moving right along with my life, enjoying grandchildren, friends, a great loving relationship, and financial stability. I'd even begun looking around me instead of upwards in anticipation of that "shoe" dropping on me once again. I had, in fact, relaxed, removed my shoes, and kicked back and simply lived each day to the fullest. I let my guard down for once in my life. Then the sky opened up and it began to rain iron toed boots.

The governor made his budget cuts and the libraries suffered repercussions. The bottom line came down last night from the CCPL board of directors. They will cut one half million dollars in job positions this year. I'm high enough on the seniority list so that I will probably dodge that bullet. However, they are going to continue the cuts into the next year by eliminating 1.7 million dollars in job positions. I cannot survive such a direct hit. I will be laid off sometime in 2010, just as I complete fifteen years of service for the library. My retirement funds will be decimated.

I received this news while recuperating at home from a Colonoscopy which I had endured that same day. The testing was done based on some rather nasty symptoms which I'd been suffering over the past two months. Use your imagination, as details would make the faint of heart weak. With Rudy's love and physical help I returned from the ordeal with two possible diagnosis. One would be colon cancer (which I highly doubt). The other is the invasion of a multitude of parasites which probably hitched a ride while I was in Cancun last May. Samples of the visible eggs and larvae were removed and sent to the lab for identification. I now sit here waiting for the Doctor to call and at least give me the name of the parasite, and method of treatment. The biopsies won't be ready for ten to fourteen days.

And so, after a brief respite from worry, while relaxing and looking down, I got blindsided by this whole situation. Life without my job? I cannot imagine that. Creepy crawlies or cancer in my body? Well, that too is way beyond anything my mind can conjure up right now. I feel no need for tears, no hysteria, no fear of the unknown, nothing. I don't think that makes me brave. I think it probably just makes me numb. I'm spending this day alternating between swinging on my porch swing, laying on the couch, and searching the web for medical knowledge. I'm faced with the reality that there is honestly nothing else I can do. I throw this question into the emptiness around me, "What now?", and no answers appear forthcoming.

Chillin' at the Beetle Motel

Some weekends are better than others and some are just different. After a week of stressing over possible layoffs I just wanted to kick back and enjoy the simple life. No fifty miles of biking, no wild partying with the neighbors, no expensive dinners, not even fishing. Just front porch sitting and weeding the garden. With the exception of watching my granddaughter's T-ball championship on Saturday morning, we kept the excitement to a minimum.

We did however, have one dirty little chore that needed to be done. We had to find a way to get rid of the Japanese beetles that were eating the raspberry bushes. Rudy had tried spraying them with pesticides last week, but that meant we couldn't eat the berries. He said I'd grow a third eye if I did. It was almost worth risking a chemically induced transformation, seeing those plump red berries going to waste. But I waited, hoping that after the rain washed the chemicals away, the beetles would be gone. Sunday morning, after the Saturday night rainstorms, we checked the bushes only to note that they were once again swarming with those nasty little bugs. Rudy said, " We gotta find a Japanese Beetle Trap today." A what? They build little traps for oriental pests? My imagination teemed with possibilities.

Over the past few months I have slowly grown to trust Rudy's knowledge of the outdoors. So I followed him to Petities Garden Center and waited patiently in the car while he went in search of the infamous beetle trap. For $11.99 he purchased a trap which appeared to be one of those "some assembly required" deals. The box stated that the trap was baited with both an enticing food scent and , get this, pheromones. We were gonna lure those little buggers with their own sexual desires right into our beetle motel. I watched as Rudy put together this weird little structure, and hung it from a branch near the berry bushes. Then we stepped back and waited for the party begin.

Hundreds of beetles flew from the berry bushes and began to swarm around the beetle trap, lured by the promise of food and sex. I know you're thinking there's something seriously wrong with Rudy and I, but I swear, it was an amazing thing to watch. We laughed and cheered as those little devils slipped painlessly into the trap seeking some kind of unrealistic reward. Not much different then us, I guess, but then we are suppose to have the larger brains. I felt as though we were winning a war without even firing a shot. No chemicals, no nuclear weapons, just luring them with their own greed and lust. Kinda makes you stop and think doesn't it? Do we really need to worry about chemical warfare and bombs? Seems like we're doing just fine destroying ourselves on our own.

If you have a strong stomach and you want proof of our beetle mania, check out the picture and guess how many Japanese Beetles are in the trap.

Flutterbys and Fauna

We went on an amazing bike ride this past weekend. Thirty miles round trip on the Kokosing Gap Trail. This particular bike trail runs between Danville and Mount Vernon Ohio, through some of the most beautiful woodlands and marshes imaginable. Halfway to Mount Vernon, we noticed a privately run butterfly garden which was graciously open to the public. We parked our bikes and entered an oasis of tranquility and beauty. The first sight to catch our eye was a hummingbird moth which was feasting on a Bea Balm flower. I'd never seen such a creature and thought perhaps it was a miniature hummingbird. Trust Rudy to know the species, and put a name to it. Actually a moth because of its two tiny antennae, it perfectly mimics a humming bird hovering above the flowers.




Our next sighting was a fritilarry butterfly dining on a cone flower. I was
able to identify it because of the pictures posted at the entrance to the
gardens. I had never seen this particular species of butterfly and was happy
to make the discovery. We noted several other wonderful "flutterby"
creatures before exiting the gardens and remounting our bikes.



We continued along this beautiful trail, passing both woodlands and marshes, enjoying the shade provided by the trees. We were able to ride side by side most of the trip because no one seemed to be on the trail that day. We caught occasional glimpses of the river as it meandered near the path every now and then. At one point we noticed what appeared to be a leather back turtle the size of a large serving platter floating just below the surface of the water. That was another amazing discovery. Unlike the Cuyahoga or the Tuscarawas rivers, this water was clear and clean and beautiful. In fact, as we approached Mount Vernon, we noted children of all ages wading in its waters. Several teens were enjoying a rope swing which hung over the river. They swung out as high and as far as they dared before letting go and splashing into the cool clear waters below. Made me wish I were a kid again and could join them.

In Mount Vernon, we discovered a fantastic little restaurant which gave us a chance to refuel before making the fifteen mile return trip to Danville. It provided us with an inexpensive treasure of great food served by a fantastically friendly waitress. Stomachs full, we got back on our bikes in anticipation of an uneventful ride back to our vehicle. But we were wrong. One last surprise awaited us.

As we peddled back along the wooded return trail, I suddenly spotted the most
brilliantly colored bird I had ever seen. Unfortunately I did not have time to
point it out to Rudy and share the sight with him. Obviously a song bird, this
feathered beauty was entirely scarlet except for its jet black wings. I described
it to Rudy and he thought that perhaps it was a tanager. I couldn't wait to get
home to research it on the web and see if he was right. No surprise, he was
absolutely correct . It was a scarlet tanager. Another new addition to my flora
and fauna knowledge.

It was a wonderful day from start to finish. We arrived at the truck exhausted and feeling great about the whole experience. Just another great memory which Rudy and I will be able to tuck away for all those long winter days when it seems summer is simply an illusion.

Platitude Adjustment

I don't usually bother with politics, because as far as I'm concerned, it's a lot like bull shit; smelly, messy, and not worth walking through much less talking about. However, I have watched the economy of Ohio, and more specifically Cleveland, deteriorate to the point where I no longer have a friend or relative who isn't either on layoff, threatened by one, or had their hours and or health care benefits cut. Now I too am joining the ranks of Americans who have to walk through this shit storm which Obama has neatly entitled " Change." If the governor cuts the libraries of Ohio out of his budget plans, we at CCPL will be faced with some tough decisions. One of which, will probably be employee cut backs. Now that's what I call change; and let me tell you change isn't always a good thing.

A Platitude is some cute way of making something bad seem not so bad . My favorite example is the overused, "When life gives you lemons, just make lemonade." I personally do not like lemonade and when life throws lemons at me I tend to call it as I see it and throw them right back. Lemons suck! "The Change" sucks! Platitudes don't make a bad situation better. They blind us to the truth and tend to numb us into complacency instead of focusing on the problem at hand.

Apparently Obama has yet to experience that delightful period in a woman's life which we once called menopause. That's when a woman turns into a mean, sweaty, angry, out of control, brainless, maniac. I know because I've been there and I didn't much like it. Calling it "The Change" didn't make it any better. Obama seems to think that by calling this out of control, economic shit storm "Change" we will swallow the bitter pill of unemployment a little easier. Well big "O" I got news for you. America is in menopause and the next five to ten years aren't going to be pretty. We need a Platitude Adjustment. How about "The Truth Will Set You Free."