The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of the Feet

As you know, a year and a half ago, while I was doing some photographs of gravestones requested by Find-A-Grave members, I found myself short of breath and nearly passed out amongst the mossy stones. Early the next morning, I did pass out on the way from my bed to the bathroom, a few short feet away. Alarmed, I got myself to the emergency room, and there, after much poking, prodding and testing, it was determined that I had been waylaid by a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in my lungs.

The images showed that the probable source of the clots (there were three larger ones in my lungs) was the calf of my left leg. Forced off my feet for a bit, I was unable to walk much, and unfortunately my weight ballooned.

After several weeks of intense Physical Therapy for my shoulder, I was able to walk more normally, swinging my arms as I did so - for the first time in many months. I was able to use the treadmill at the local YMCA as well as the swimming pool, and with some effort (mostly stubborn muleheadedness) I worked myself to the point were I could walk 90 minutes at 3 1/2 miles an hour on a 8 percent incline.

The Doctor asked me if I felt "recovered," and my answer was "I don't know. I'd have to test myself."

So yesterday morning found me at the Hamburg Reservoir, (north of Reading, Pennsylvania) and looking at a sign that said "Commemorating the Appalachian Trail - 75 Years - 1937 to 2012 - Georgia to Maine. This sign is at the foot of Blue Mountain and near the location of the now long gone Winsor Furnace and the famous Hawk Mountain.

I used to walk up the mountain here when I was in Boy Scouts (many years ago) and have not attempted the rather strenuous hike in years. Could I do it? The path from the parking lot looked daunting.

About 1/2 a mile of steady walking up the path brought me to the crystal clear waters of the reservoir. The morning was cool, but I had started to sweat pretty freely from the exertion.

At the far end of the reservoir a small stream trickles down from the heights and the path wends its way through the green rhododendron bushes. I said to myself, "Okay, slow and steady. Its about a mile and half climb from here to the ridge line."

Time seemed to slow, the only sounds were the gurgling of the stream beside me, and the call of the birds lost from view high in the still bare trees.

At length, I passed a couple walking hand and hand that stopped and said, "Gorgeous morning!" And I replied, "Indeed it is!"

After stopping only once for a minute to catch my breath at a particularly steep part of the trail, I at long last reach the ridge line trail. I exulted! "I did it!" The trail from here to the overlook, while long and rocky, is basically level. One step after another, I plodded onwards. After some time, I spotted a neon yellow vest ahead, "I'm catching up to someone! Me!! Slow pokey me!" and then the vest disappeared at a bend in the trail.

"Oh well," I thought, "I guess they got their second wind." And onwards I went. The path getting more rocky and difficult. Suddenly, I was spooked by a voice behind me!

It was a lady wearing a neon yellow vest and two friends of hers, walking determinedly behind me. "Where did they come from? I thought to myself?" as they eventually overtook me and went by me. Somewhat befuddled by the exertion of the hike, and confused by the need to eat, I let the mystery of their appearance go. By that time, we were nearly at the overlook.

"Ugh! Look at the rocks underfoot, now I remember why I didn't come up here all that often!" I slowly scrambled over them and at long last, the object of my walk came into view. The Pinnacle. 1635 feet above sea-level, and 920 feet above the level of the parking lot, the overlook is spectacular. The three ladies that passed me asked me to take their photograph, which I did, asking them, "I thought I saw you ahead of me, and then you spooked me coming up behind me."

With a loud voice, overheard by the dozen or so people sitting in the rocks around us, one of the ladies says, "Jenny had to stop and pee!"

My brain flickered, and I thought, "oh...Oh... OH!!!!"

After a brief snack on a cool rock, during which I congratulated myself for having made it to the top. I started back down the hill, still working on getting arm around so I could pat myself on the back, when I saw three young guys in shorts and t-shirts RUN up the path I had so laboriously trod.

Now that burst my bubble! :)

Morris Arboretum - Easter Weekend

The past weekend had some marvelous weather - so I headed to the Morris Arboretum, craving some fresh air and some signs of what seems to have become a belated Spring!

I was tickled to find some flowers had flowered - one of my favorites, Daffodils, or Jonquil (as my folks endlessly argue over which name should be used.) Narcissus jonquilla, or as I call them, daffy-dills were in abundance.

And so were the bugs!

Huge bugs...

A Daddy Long Legger! In the Redwood Grove.

Praying Mantis amongst the Daffy-dills!

A purposeful Ant striding through the English Meadow!

A Lady Bug near the "Fernery" (a greenhouse loaded with Ferns)

Such fun! I lent the Lady Bug my embroidered "Houseboat Cap" while I took her (are any Lady Bugs "hims"?) picture and asked her to smile and say "Aphids!"

You can see the "complete set" of bugs on my Flickr page (here).

I think I wore that cap, subconsciously wanting the boating season "to get here."  I am forever reminded of the lovely soul that embroidered it and some equally marvelous shirts - you know her, Punkn or Deanna of "My Loves, My Life," did them.  I think she's amazing. :)

Embroidered Houseboat "Logo"

Why Do We Anthropomorphize?

Giving human characteristics to animals, inanimate objects or natural phenomena is a human trait called “to anthropomorphize.”

Anthropomorphism carries many important implications. For example, thinking of a nonhuman entity in human ways renders it worthy of moral care and consideration. In addition, anthropomorphized entities become responsible for their own actions — that is, they become deserving of punishment and reward.

Although we like to anthropomorphize, we do not assign human qualities to each and every single object we encounter. What accounts for this selectivity? One factor is similarity. An entity is more likely to be anthropomorphized if it appears to have many traits similar to those of humans (for example, through human-like movements or physical features such as a face).

-Courtesy of Photojournalist Alice Kay

I don't see any face but it is easy to see that this poor, down on his luck OCHA is "riding the rails" (if the train ever comes!) ...Tossed from the saloon that featured Coors Light on tap because he had no money - he desperately wants to move on.

 Where will he go? What will become of him? Is he destined to be run over and flattened like many of his ilk?

I hate to tell him that his wait for "the train" might be a long one. Those rails, while they connect at a nearby junction to others that head north (to destinations as exotic as Niagara Falls) and south to old mountain towns like Wilkes-Barre and "Jim Thorpe" (founded as Mauch Chunk in 1818), have not been served by a train in some time (sad to say.)

Well I lay my head on the railroad track
Waiting on the Double E
But the train don`t run by here no more
Poor poor pitiful me

Poor poor pitiful me
Poor poor pitiful me
Oh these boys won`t let me be
Lord have mercy on me
Woe woe is me

Those rails whose very existence were fought for and doggedly repaired after being badly damaged, repeatedly, by flooding caused by bad storms have an uncertain future - a future as uncertain as that poor, down on his luck, Orange Cone Head Alien's.

The late, great Lehigh Valley Rail Road

In the 80's!!

No, it's not 80 degrees F here...

Nor is there an 1980's theme party going on...

It has been 80+ days since I last published an entry here.

As of yesterday, I have lost 80+ pounds on that strict diet I was put on prior to the shoulder operation.

As of yesterday, I have regained 80+ degrees in my range of motion (and I'm promised there will be much more to come!)

Physical Therapy has been brutal and exciting at the same time.  The workouts at the YMCA (in the pool and in the gym) have been tough but I'm feeling like a young man again.  Yesterday, I was told to take a stroll on the treadmill.  It was set for 7% slope (yikes!) and 3.2 miles per hour.  I managed to "hang in there" for 90 minutes, covering 5.25 miles and "climbing" over 1600 feet!  I feel the old, walk 7 miles a day form coming back to me.

As a side effect, really, that's what the Doctor calls it, I've been taken off four (yes 4!) of the eight medications I was on - and in April (hey, that's next Monday!) I will learn if I will be taken off the remainder.  I've already been taken off the most brutal one for me to manage, no more insulin for me!

So, 80 days... they've been very busy with healing, therapy, work outs, learning how to eat right, and of course, catching up at work.  With the (hopeful?) onset of Spring, I should be able to resume my walks with camera in hand, ready to take photos of anything that strikes my fancy, and things I would want to share with any of you that are still reading this... including rascally squirrels, whimsical OCHAs, and other imponderables.

I have much reading to catch up - and beg your forbearance - some of you have 80+ unread entries in my reader - and likely and sadly, I'll never be able to read them all.  I'm pleased to be back... and at feeling 80%+