The Oaken Update

About a year ago I told you about the majestic oak tree that was removed from our neighbors' backyard.

Wait...did I say removed?

Make that lingered!  Over one year later and this is still the view from our deck...

My grandkids used to play on this.  Who knows what manner of varmint has moved in to these "log cabins!"

But, wait!  It gets better!

We had a storm move through last night with thunder, lightening and considerable wind.

Let's move on up to their front yard, shall we?

We now have a set of matching yards--front and back.

But, wait!  It gets better!!!

The neighbors have filed for divorce and bankruptcy.  They sold this prize property to one of those charlatan land barons who will, in turn, sell it for low interest and next to nothing down.

He'll offer that shiny apple of a deal to home buyers without the means to furnish a one bedroom trailer much less an entire home.  He'll do this over and over again once his victims inevitably default on their loan and will send our property values to the deepest fathoms.

One thing's for sure...

This clown does not own a lawn mower much less a chain saw.

Dinner With Daddy

I had lunch with my folks today.  Because my own children are planning a burger feast for Mr. KCKay and because Daddy is spending time on Sunday with my sister, we had our Father's Day celebration today.

I have always called him Daddy.  Mom is Mom.  I don't think I've called her Mommy since I was six.  It's a Southern father/daughter kind of thing--even though I grew up in the Midwest.  But Daddy is from Oklahoma and that is South enough for his daughters.  My brother will call him Pops or Dad or even "the old man," but that is a whole 'nother story and has nothing to do with our lunch!

Mr. KCKay and I took him to a steakhouse.  Daddy does enjoy his beef!  We made arrangements to meet at 12:30 and all of us got there around 1:00.  Typical.  I got held up at work and Mom found a garage sale on the way.   Seated and having ordered we proceeded to catch up.  The topic of conversation inevitably lead to "all of the other places we could have eaten."  My folks eat out a lot these days.  They're in their 80's and pretty much past the excitement of cranking out meals, gourmet or otherwise.  Besides, Daddy was a cook in the Army and has no more gotten the hang of cooking for less than a platoon than Mom has not cooking for her entire family.  So the conversation always comes around to restaurants.  My husband and I consider them our scouts.  If a place we talk about gets a thumbs up from those two then we make a mental note give it a try.

There's something special about one-on-one time with your parents.  From birth to adulthood it is perfection to have ones parents attention free of any sibling rivalry.  It's even more precious now.

Due to macular degeneration in both eyes Daddy has slowly been going blind.  He spent his entire life working and playing with his hands:  woodworking, auto repair, mechanics, fishing...just tinkering.  He can't do that anymore.  A combination of bleeding and scar tissue in his eyeballs have robbed all but a sliver of his sight...and then he can only distinguish dark and light. This is very hard for him to handle.

It's hard for us to handle.  I don't remember him ever crying when I was growing up.  Daddy's don't cry.  They suck it up.  They dry your tears--not the other way around.  But just recently, after a visit at our place, I remember sitting in the car with him while he waited on Mom.  He cried and my heart broke.  "I just want to be able to see my grandkids" he said.  What do you do when the man you have depended upon is now depending on you?

 "Oh, Daddy," I said.  "It's just as well.  They all turned out pretty ugly."  It worked.  He laughed.  I'll take his smile and his laugh over his tears anytime.

I'll do whatever it takes to help him cope with his loss of vision.  He may be down, but he's not out--no sir!  He is not a quiter.  Just don't cry anymore, Daddy.  Please.

The Passing of Print

Like many others I have an e-reader.  I like it--don't love it.  I can snuggle up in bed on cold winter nights and don't even have to reach out from under the covers to turn a page.  I just click on an arrow and continue reading.  I feel guilty using it, though.

You see, I love bookstores.  I love the smell of fresh ink on crisp, new pages.  I love bright dust jackets with attention-grabbing illustrations--no dog ears or wrinkles.  I love looking around at folks perched on benches or curled up in leather armchairs with their nose in a book, newspaper (oh, don't even get me started on newspapers) or a slick magazine.  I love to see kids sitting on the floor with half a dozen books around them trying to pick the perfect one.  Libraries rank way up there, too.  The aroma is more mellow and pages are now slightly yellowed, but this is typical of mature printed matter.

Sadly more and more print material is slipping into oblivion.  At least two of my local newspapers are online only.  A major chain of bookstores is closing its doors.  Ironically their demise was due largely to their lack of a popular e-reader with their name on it.

And while trees may be saved and the Dewey Decimal System is no longer necessary learning in schools, I do feel guilty using my e-reader.  One sacrifices much for the sake of convenience and seemingly unlimited storage.

It's the First Thing to Go...Okay, the Second...I think

I haven't posted anything lately.  I know I should keep it up--just in case I get a follower someday.  But, I just haven't posted anything lately.

Now, I could tell you that I have been super busy, what with working all day and jetting across the country to fabulous hotspots by night.  I could tell you that gremlins abducted my blogspot and that it was just recently returned to our planet.  I could tell you that my dog at my post.

I could tell you any one of these things.

But the simple truth is that I forgot my new e-mail address and password.  That's right.  Just forgot. *sigh*  I hate growing older.

I Think That I Shall Never See...

The oak is gone.  Not just the obnoxious dead limb that fell to earth a couple of weeks ago, but the entire majestic tree.

*sigh*

The gaping hole left in the canopy of our backyard eco-system is overwhelming.

I can't bear to look at it.

The neighbor's rationale was that other limbs could have fallen just as easily as the first.  They said removing the tree would give them a good night's sleep when the wind picks up during a storm.  That's what they said.  Their eyes gave them away, though.  Their eyes said "Woo Hoo!  No more leaves to rake!"

150+ years of building ring after ring in its trunk and with the buzz of several chainsaws the monumental oak came down during two long days.

The tree is not forgotten, though.  I will remember breezes rustling the leaves in the spring and the crunch of those same leaves underfoot in the fall.  I'll recall its striking silhouette against the stark winter sky and those huge limbs capped with snow.  I'll miss the cooling shade of leaves the size of dinner plates.

I'll remember these things every time I see the piles and piles of wood still stacked and strewn over my neighbor's entire backyard!  I'll struggle to remember these things when all manner of varmints move in to the wood piles.  I'll remember and I'll look up the statute of limitations on tree murder...

Starlight and Rainstorms

My daughter took me to Starlight Theater last night for my birthday. Starlight is an outdoor amphitheater in Swope Park. It is in a beautiful setting and features such amenities as a VIP restaurant catered by Hereford House. The idea is to enjoy a relaxed meal and then a Broadway show. On the bill last night: Disney's "Beauty and the Beast."



We were fully prepared to endure the residual heat from our 104 degree day--we dressed in cool, loose clothing and drank plenty of water in preparation for the outing. We ate on the patio of the Diamond Club on site and seriously looked forward to the production. About the time we had our dessert, the temperature dropped dramatically.

I'm talkin' 15 degrees in nothing flat. In the Midwest that triggers your Uh-oh reflex.

Enjoy the cooler temp, but have the ark on standby

...or the ruby slippers.

We found our seats and the lights dimmed. Soon I saw in my daughter's eyes the delight she had as a little girl when we cuddled on the couch and replayed the VHS version of the musical over and over and over again. We were awash in the glow of familiar tunes and fond memories.

As the overture began so did the sprinkles. By the second or third musical number it was flat out raining. Veterans to Starlight pulled out transparent ponchos of all colors from neat little packets and quickly gave the appearance of "audience in a baggie." You see the show is never called because of rain. There are no rain checks.

The only preparation my daughter and I had taken was to stow away a compact umbrella. What were we thinking? This tiny polka-dot rain shield was meant to fit in one's purse. It was not intended to cover two grown people. But there we sat. Huddled under the mini-brella. The production was very, very good and we valiantly defied the downpour. The clouds would tease for a while--letting up for a few minutes only to resume the deluge. We left at intermission--not because we washed out, but because lightening had begun to streak across the sky. As we sloshed across the parking lot (thankfully she had sprung for reserved parking) we slipped and skidded in our flip-flops, still clinging to the useless umbrella. We found the car, slid inside and drove home.

As I was spreading my drenched clothing over the towel rack to dry I realized something. I really had a great time! Thanks, baby girl!!

Oak Invasion

About a week ago a limb from our neighbor's tree fell between our two houses.  This was no little tree!  This thing was enormous!  The tree itself is probably 150+ years old and has leaves the size of dinner plates and acorns the size of golf balls.  In fact the limb that fell could pass for a full grown tree.

If it were standing upright.  Which it isn't.

Still between our houses it has been subjected not only to separation anxiety, but extreme wilt in our 100 degree weather--104 degrees today.  The fallen limb is no longer green, no longer exciting, and no longer welcome!

I want the limb out of my yard and off of my house.  I want to see how much grass will have to be replaced and if there is any hope for the portion of my landscape buried under this oak intruder.