Roadtesting the New Brain

Mortar-less flint walls are everywhere

Last weekend, we had Summer’s first mini-vacation. We drove to the Flint Hills of Kansas for my nephew’s high school graduation gathering at my brother’s lake cabin, and to spend a couple of lazy days on the water – a treat, since we’re fairly land-locked in our corner of the prairie.

Girl & Chessie share hair color gene

I was a little worried about such a long (it’s a 7-hour drive), high-stimulation trip, but I did surprisingly well.  The visit was excellent physical therapy—hauling stuff from the car to the cabin, walking up and down the small hill from cabin to dock and back, climbing into and out of a large jet ski tube tied to the dock, etc. There were 7 adult-ish people (plus one extra on the last night) and 3 dogs (a small poodle and two very large Chessies) in the 2-bedroom cabin, which seems like potential disaster, but it worked out fine.  We spent lots of time outdoors, which is the point of a lake cabin anyway. And my sister-in-love brought her espresso machine to the cabin and made us lattes every morning. And my brother strung blue sparkly lights absolutely everywhere. A wee slice of paradise.

Lest you think it was picture-perfect, though, BS (my brainsplosion) did toss a couple of minor monkey wrenches in the works: 

Supermom jets off

(1) New Circuits/Misfires – Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve had occasional, sudden intense pain in my left big toe, shooting up my leg, but only when barefoot. One day, I had fleeting jolts of fire, as if someone was jabbing my left shoulder blade with a fork (testing for doneness, perhaps). Another day, my left eye twitched sporadically. These sensations are momentary and come & go with no pattern or regularity. So either random nerves are waking up, clicking back online & off again, or someone has a voodoo doll made from my old socks. 

(2) Not-Drowning – Last Sunday, I’d been sunning on the tube and decided to roll off into the water for a swim. Quell surprise! Apparently, in my post-stroke brain, the proper sequence of holding one’s breath BEFORE going under water is no longer instinctual. Fortunately, the tube blocked me from everyone’s view, so there will be no FoolTube video of the uncoordinated chubby redhead gasping, choking, and flailing for the dock ladder.

This non-swimming revelation kept me from riding my brother’s new jet ski, but my 77-year-old mom braved it and looked positively sporty & fetching cruising around the lake. I think Mom is secretly sneaking up on my 80-ish aunt’s para sailing record, to which I say (in begging, whiny tone), “Please please please let these genes be in me too.”

lake at dusk

When we got home, Ray’s sister, who’d been house/pet sitting, had cleaned, weeded, pruned houseplants, tended to our dog’s sore nose, and left us an old wooden ladder she’d painted and turned into a work of art. It’s now a gorgeous garden trellis. It was like coming home after the shoemaker’s elves had been there.

ladder trellis art

The trip was fun, but it also tested my recovery progress and zapped me good. (When I get tired, I transform from a seemingly normal woman to a lame, stammering, Kwasimoto with advanced dementia.) So I’ve been recuperating for the past week—physical therapy, low-stim days, lots and lots of rest. Mom and I are planning a short trip in June to Louisiana to see her new great-grandchildren, so for the next couple of weeks, I’ll be perfecting my 15-minute power nap. Beautiful bayou, Pain perdu and café au lait...here I come!

Down from the Mountains

We’re back from the Black Hills, and one almost needs a vacation after a vacation. Ray, his son Jasper, Yogi and I drove out last Thursday, pausing to meander through the Badlands. With the unusually heavy snow last winter and rain this spring, the Badlands are the greenest they’ll be for another 100 years, according to park rangers. We saw prairie dogs bob up and down in their holes like an arcade game, turkey vultures and maybe an eagle circling the cliffs, and a couple of antelope rams squaring off for a round of head butting.

There were 15 of us in Ray’s extended family group, staying in two cabins near Silver City. It was an ideal vacation, where we either hung out together or split into groups to wander the Hills. Ray and I got to visit friends in Deadwood and Spearfish, and various groups fished, golfed, did horseback trail rides, hiked, or went sight-seeing. We checked out the progress at Crazy Horse monument, and we wandered through Hill City. Yogi obsessively stalked Ray’s one-year-old great niece, and we had to maneuver to keep Yogi away from Ray’s niece’s Shiba Inu, Presley, who’s not so fond of pesky pups.

Ray dropped me off in Spearfish Sunday evening, where I met up with Deirdre, Gloria, and Millie. Then on Monday morning as Ray and his family all headed home, the four of us women drove up to a cabin near O’Neill Pass. The cabin sits at the end of a long drive, in the middle of a meadow at around 6500 feet. No TV, no phone service, no computers—just elk, deer, and at night, bats & coyotes. We walked, read books, talked, played guitars & sang, and toured old haunts in the Hills. One night we aimed a flashlight at a treeline at the edge of the meadow and discovered glowing coyote eyes blinking back at us. It makes one wonder, who are the watchers and who are the watched?

It’s good to be home. It took me a couple days of driving in the Hills to shed my flatlander equilibrium and get over my up-turn-down-turn queasiness. And although I could get used to the spectacular topography of the Hills, I know I would miss the magical peace & the perspective--the sheer vastness of earth & sky--I marvel at here on the prairie.

More rain while we were gone, so things are looking a little tropical, including the foot-high lawn. In peacock news, now we are thirteen—Debbie’s only child is still around, but Wanda’s down from 6 babies to 4. The big boys have dropped most of their train feathers, which are now woven into our wire fence like fringe. No sign of the cats lately. My brother and his family from KS are coming through tonight on their way to MN for the reunion of my dad's side of the family, so we’ll go for dinner at Mom’s. Mom’s having minor surgery on Tuesday, so we’ll miss my family’s reunion this year. I’ll have to start working in earnest soon, getting ready for a new, busy semester, but it is still summer, and Ray calls me the Queen of Procrastination, so for today at least, I’m planning to uphold my office…