Again, my son will question my masculinity

. . . but that's the way it goes. I wanted to get close up pictures of the rose of sharon blossoms last year but there were japanese beetles all over them, munching happily. This year I learned if you put out bug bags with attractant you get bugs from miles away migrating to your yard. More than you could ever catch in bags because it's a sexual pheremone.

I took a really cool picture of a japanese beetle last year, much to the disgust of my brother in law, Greg, who views them as the enemy. Even one's enemy can be attractive. Anyway, since they are not so horny, there are fewer of them this year, which is a blessing.

There's a little robber fly in this one. This fly is colored like a bee, but not really shaped that way. This must work for him. We are not always what we seem and this is usually a survival strategy. I seem to be a harmless middle aged man, so there you go. My goal is to be increasingly less harmless.

I'm well. I have a new non-narcotic pain reliever, which is nonetheless an opioid, and helped me get some stuff done today even though my back began rebelling early. I'm not sure what I did yesterday, other than see two new clients. There isn't a one to one correspondence between when I exert and when I have aches and pains. It was manageable today with a light dose and Wikipedia says this stuff isn't addictive except at the maximum dose, which I am nowhere near. Most of the time Tylenol 500s work well. I helped get the house clean and did some shopping and took little breaks and it all got done. This is more than I can say for my macho son who has done absolutely nothing we have asked him to do today, claiming fatigue. I'm an asshole dad so I suggested that he was too exhausted to do anything with anyone including the Xbox and he seemed to begin to move. It's looking like rain and I don't think the lawn is going to get mowed. Nor is his laundry going to get done or his room clean. His grounding will last until tomorrow when there's probably something he'll want to do. So it goes. Yelling at him doesn't make me feel better and still doesn't get the job done.

Rose O' Sharon was a character in the Grapes of Wrath. She nursed a dying man after her infant died as the family rode from Oklahoma to California, the promised land during the depression. These days there's no place to migrate to, except perhaps Alaska and I don't believe they are promising anything there.

I'd actually really enjoy mowing the lawn. It was one of the jobs I found satisfying, along with shoveling the snow. I liked being strong. Picking up rocks and making walls and shoveling holes and planting things. It has been strange to be weak, anemic. Atrophy has been almost alarming at times. Nowadays, I'm gaining my strength and can see progress. It's easier to have pain when one can see a progression. Robyn's back pain isn't like that and I'm noticing the difference. At some point I suppose I'll come to the conclusion that, in the words of the sage Jack Nicholson, this is "as good as it gets."

I suppose it won't be good enough.

Tough.

Flying dogs observed in Iowa

Caitlin took this picture of Tye doing his favorite "job." His rule is that he must catch the chipmunk before it hits the ground. Dogs have rules. Don't think they don't. Not bad for a nine year old dog.

Speaking of old dogs, I am feeling a lot better. Back on the campus at work, I'm walking a lot and climbing a lot of stairs and feeling the "burn" less and less. Running will be entirely another matter, but the first day back when I took the stairs I felt like I'd run a few miles. Now they just feel like stairs.

What I'm experiencing these days is more of an ache than a pain. I resort to the "big" drugs at night, but during the day, my aches are very manageable. On days when I "work out" more, I feel more achy at night and I understand that is to be expected. I have the "advantage" of knowing how it feels when all the surgeon's good work comes unglued, and this definitely does NOT feel like that. It feels like progress. I wear my lighter brace as little as possible: when in the car or when doing back intensive tasks such as vacuuming.

I go back to Madison for CT scans and a final pronouncement on October 8th. I expect to go get my license and be back on the road again. It's time. It will be wonderful to have some more independence. My Iowa City caseload is filling up and I'll need more flexibility. The Corps Members will be arriving on campus in a few weeks and we'll be hopping. I'd like to get going with some physical therapy so that I can look left and right without the "full torso pivot" move. I'm not sure how well I'll ever be able to look up. It may be a bend-at-the-waist deal from here on out. We'll see.

Our family is falling back into a more normal routine. Autumn has us in its grasp, getting us back to routine and nudging us with shorter days, foggy mornings, and crisp air. It's good to be alive, active, to wiggle my toes. It's good to value our lives and the good things we do. As I drove to Wisconsin in June I felt I was getting away from the grind of my life. I guess I sure as Hell was.

Having fought like Hell to get my life back, I hope I don't forget how much it's worth.

Merry gold

I have a great little photo shareware program called Gimp that I'm half way learning to use. I still haven't figured out to do what I set out to do but this one turned out okay. The morning glory was psychedelic all by itself.

The Infectious Disease Clinic at UW called me today to let me know that my labs are normal. This means that I no longer have to wolf down antibiotics for the first time since June. They're going to test me again in a few weeks after no antibiotics and see if seratia has been hiding out and has started growing again. Dr. Mejicano is wily and knows all their sneaky tricks.

It is cool and a little sticky out. The corn is turning brown at the edges and you can hear it rustle now in a breeze. The cicadas are keening, louder and louder in waves and then dying out again. For a moment, everything is just as it should be.

Morning Glory

I went out to get the paper the other morning and in the middle of the worst of our grass, right down by the curb where all the sand and salt ends up, was a single morning glory.

I got great news in Madison and can now wear my lighter brace or no brace at all depending on my level of activity and on how I feel. Range of motion is a really wonderful thing. I'm miserably stiff and inflexible, particularly my neck. Because my spine is now bent forward, I think I'm having to hold my head up with somewhat different muscles. At any rate the muscles currently engaged were complaining mightily of overwork yesterday.

I've learned that the aches come and go and I can feel myself getting stronger as I "pay" for yesterday's exertion. An ache is certainly better than the sensations I was experiencing in June, or in July for that matter, when complications were arising.

Our friend and sister Katie suggests the pain is a reminder of how good it is to be alive. The man in the Army commercial says pain is the sensation of weakness leaving your body. These days for me an ache or pain is the fee for more freedom and normalcy. I got to sit in a small town bar and look pretty much like the other humans. We were early for a wedding and there were puppies on the floor and children beginning to tantrum because their parents were on beer number two and you know what that means. We enjoyed our drinks and speculated with the bartender about which local wedding we were attending. No one during the entire visit asked what happened to me. I got eye contact!

The young adults are returning to our campus at work. They are full of energy and critical analysis, humor and fun. There's going to be lots of work to do and my motivation is much higher to get my training materials written and polished. Now I have my audience and don't want to disappoint them.


We are bent but we are no longer broken. Knitting together, we piece ourselves into place.

We work to straighten ourselves as we walk and we keep ourselves tidy, the better to be clean and dignified.

To walk along the street and be unremarkable is a piece of luck, not a right. I am lucky enough to have a few upright miles remaining, before I order my online scooter, place a carafe of martinis in the bag, and roll toward the sunset, leaving only a little dust, and a faint whirring noise.