Time Travel

Friday, August 14, 2015

Time Travel: a WEEK FULL of a HAPPYBIRTHDAYGolly, butit’s g...

Time Travel:

a WEEK FULL of a HAPPYBIRTHDAY
Golly, butit’s g...: a WEEK FULL of a HAPPY BIRTHDAY Golly, but it’s great, To be Eighty-eight There was a time -- at 39 Forty was considered t...

a WEEK FULL of a HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Golly, but it’s great, To be Eighty-eight

There was a time -- at 39

Forty was considered the end of the line

Then Forty came around, -- new Life to be found

It began this way. Sister Nancy and Buford planned a trip to Yellowstone in August, driving in their Minnie Winnie, their 16 foot green Winnebago trailer.

I commented, “Ah, yes, Yellowstone, that has always been on my Bucket List. Ed and I talked about it, but the time was too late for us to go.”

Nancy, in her usual jump-in ready-for-adventure manner said, “Come join us. Minnie Winnie has plenty of room for three.”

Without thinking I took the idea. “Sure, I can fly up and join you for a few nights. I would absolutely love it.”

Whoops, I’m 87, high on dreaming and low on air. But they wouldn’t let me back out. Every objection I came up with, they had an answer.

We made it easy on me. Wheelchair for airport check-ins, changing in Salt Lake, check bag instead of dragging it. Pack double places on pills.

Going on the theory that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, I did a lot of worrying. Altitude would get to me, I needed my naps. And then the unmentionable problems that only come with age.

I was armed with two types of photography: a point-and-shoot Canon that I hadn’t used recently and a “smart phone” that I didn’t understand.

The connection in Salt Lake is 45 minutes which should be plenty of time for Delta to Delta. Only I was going from a larger plane to a smaller plane . . . from one end of the terminal to another. First obstacle already . . . Worry, worry, the wheelchair wasn’t waiting. I couldn’t miss the flight.

Their RV park was an hour away from the airport, I had to make it. I asked for help and began a fast, fast walk, breathing hard for air. Finally the chair came toward me and I quickly sat myself down.

We arrived as the plane was boarding. I was unloaded at the gate and given a new seat assignment. Whoops, did I have to ride on the wings?! Nope, seat assignment 1B, right at the front. Did they reassign because I was late, because I am old or because I wore my long-ago America West cap? Never mind, take it and enjoy. First class leg room, first class meal and first class Bailey’s in my coffee. One worry that turned into a pleasure.

OK so far. Cody is a small neat airport and I was met right at the airplane and my bag arrived with me. Clouds and rain also arrived with me. However, my big pillow waited in the back seat of the car so I could take my usual afternoon nap and I forgot to worry about altitude sickness. I was starving, we stopped at Granny’s for a full meal and I forgot to worry about upset stomach. Golly, I was really here, breathing all the wonderful fresh air into my eager lungs.

Yakety, yak, we all talked at once about possibilities for tomorrow. Then came three games of Mexican train dominoes, continuing a competition started at our last visit.

Time for bed. Anyone who has lived in a small trailer knows how the kitchen table is transformed into a comfortable sleeping spot. My three pillows appeared, just as I had ordered. I didn’t stay awake to worry any more on this day.

Sunshine the next morning. I had packed shorts to wear and then came the warning: “You better bring jeans, it’s chilly up here." This turned out to be the best advice of the whole trip and I lived in my baggy pedal pushers. Take the worry of clothes off of my list.

Yellowstone Park is 30 minutes away from the RV park. After an excellent breakfast from our RV park kitchen, I curled up in the back seat for my morning nap. “Wake me up when bears are growling in the window.”

Instead I was awakened to view the great wide expanse of Yellowstone Lake, the largest lake in the park. About that time I learned and was delighted with the frequent roadside cozy toilets.

I couldn’t go back to sleep. Would the higher elevation make me sick? We arrived at the Continental Divide. I couldn’t believe it. Here I am at 8,391 feet and feeling fine. I was still astonished when we crossed the 45^th Parallel.

We came to the Upper Geyser Basin. The park attendant told us: “45 minutes until time for “Old Faithful” to blow.” There must have been a thousand people waiting in the area already. We had a choice. We could mingle in the increasing crowd in hopes of maybe getting a picture of the top half of Old Faithful. Or we could head for lunch.
We decided to enjoy BisonBurgers with huckleberry lemonade in a very comfortable Lodge.

Later I would aim the camera at a few pretty geyser streams I could see in the distance.

The afternoon showed us the Upper Water Falls in the Grand Canyon, IMHO, the second most enjoyable stop of all.

This day was so good and that meant the next day would be trouble. After another filling breakfast, we could see the dark clouds bringing rain in our direction. Despite the omens we started driving on the Chief Joseph Scenic Biway. Again my worry paid off. As we traveled higher, the dark clouds disappeared and the sun began to keep us company. At Dead Indian Pass (8000 ft. elevation), we had beautiful views of the switchbacks which outlined the escape route of the Indians during the 1877 Nez Perce War.

Could we really have discussed not taking this long route into Montana and back by the Lower Water Falls? We covered it all. When we looked over the photos, Nancy had great shots of bison and an elk of some kind with large horns. I managed to get a chipmunk, a badger and a blob.

And Bison, herds of Bison, grazing in fields. “Look, look to your right,” Nancy yelled as she aimed her camera. A big happy Bison was taking a nap right by the side of the road. I missed it but still had far away blobs of pictures.

In the evening our fighting dominoes games continued. I am not going to mention who led or lost in the battle because I don’t want to embarrass anyone.

I thought we had run out of places to see. Then we discovered the attractions of Cody. The riders on the Buffalo Bill Trolley Tours sang Happy Birthday to me. In the evening an out-of-this world buffet dinner with prime rib at the historic Irma Hotel with the cherry wood bar from Queen Victoria to Bill Cody. Also a candle in Boston Cream pie. Then a fun Dan Miller’s Cowboy Music Revue.

On Sunday we visited the friendly Methodist Church. Old Trail Town gave us lots of speculation about living in those days. After dinner we enjoyed the variety of the Cody Rodeo.

There were constant stops for photos with Nancy getting great ones and my camera getting great blobs. We included the tour of the Buffalo Bill Dam. We enjoyed the Candy Store with tasty fudge and the Indian souvenir stores and Peter’s Sandwiches and the wonderful meal at Proud Cut. Actually, all meals were wonderful. We were unanimous that whichever place we were eating was the best.

I don’t know what happened to those five days. Suddenly the time had come to depart. And again there were worries and compensations. In Salt Lake we sat on the runway with wind blowing ferociously. We waited what-seemed-like 30 minutes and I wished we would forget about taking off. After we were in the air, I asked the flight attendant for coffee.

Then I inquired: “Do you have Baileys?” She did. And gave it to me on the house with a Happy Birthday. Passengers leaving the plane again gave me smiles and Happy Birthday.

Yes, the entire week had been a constant reminder that the fun time begins at 88. I gotta remember this one because surely there couldn’t be a birthday this good when I reach 89. Or could it?

Thank you so much Nancy and Buford.

Every day was a gift and a blessing.

Mariam Lewis Heiny Cheshire

Monday, July 27, 2015

Time Travel: THREE WEEKS, 21 DAYS

Time Travel: THREE WEEKS, 21 DAYS: Three weeks, 21 days . Amazing! Nothing went wrong in this long period of time. Well, my cell phone didn’t want to send...

THREE WEEKS, 21 DAYS

Three weeks, 21 days.

Amazing! Nothing went wrong in this long period of time. Well, my cell phone didn’t want to send pictures or text, but I could live with that. A TV never blared in my presence which was a plus. No re-runs, no news.

It can’t be called a vacation when I no longer work. I’ll name it as a ‘get-away” from my current life which is happily settled in an apartment I like and friends around me. This trip is a get-away to a different wonderful 21 days.

Sister Nan made up a calendar with the plan for each day. Then I added in red the special happenings.

We started with bright sparkly fireworks! Well, maybe they weren’t meant just for me. It happened to be Fourth of July. Six of us happened to be maneuvering a pontoon boat on a river close to a park where celebrations were happening. Don’t be worried by the photo. The beer in my hand is real. But the captain only let me take the steering wheel with miles of water around us.

There comes a time it life when “what goes around, comes around,” and it certainly has come back to me in pi square quantities. In my teen age years I did considerable babysitting for a cute little girl 13 years younger than me. Now that cute kid takes care of older sister with class and style. Eyes & glasses checked; teeth cleaned and given a good report; dentures adjusted; a haircut with the little snips that shape it; a first-class pedicure and then to top it off, an hour’s massage that soothed every muscle. I looked the best possible for a party which Nan considers small with only 33 people.

To work off the extra delicious calories we put in enjoyable long walks in the near-by park.

Yep, pay back was here. Except when it came to Mexican train dominoes. We battled every evening, keeping score in red on my calendar. They wouldn’t let me win and I had to fight hard until the last day. Score right now is the monster and the old lady tied with 13, cutie-pie catching up with an 11.

We drove to Galveston in their Minnie Winnie – a pretty green 16 foot Winnebago trailer – and settled down on a beach RV park. This gave me a chance to catch up on deep breathing with delicious sea air. Old ladies get privileges. They had fixed a curtain (mailed from brother Bill) so I had my own space and I was allowed to sleep an extra hour in the morning.

In addition to play-acting joists and slapping the waves in the warm Gulf waters, we gave a day to the Moody Gardens. Every pre-kindergarten school in the area visited that day. However, we had more fun than the kids watching the fish and the turtles and the snails. Then came the rain forest (they keep it as hot as Phoenix) with monkeys and pretty birds and water dragons.

More good eating. The two Lewis girls relaxed after their tour around the Gardens with a fancy named coconut berry drink that had fifty percent ice. No worry, someone else did the driving and he watched out for us.

Off to Nan ’s family. Her four year old granddaughter doesn’t just read books, she writes them. I now know all about the tree frogs and their activities. Food in that household is of the healthy tasty kind. One menu included white chili that tasted like a favorite very good bean soup to me.

We enjoyed another daughter’s lake house, spotting grazing deer and driving through green forest on the tree farm. One evening musical granddaughter gave a special cello concert, just for me. The height of enjoyment is reclining on a soft couch with Bach surrounding me.

We constantly ate. Chinese, Mexican, fish and hamburgers. Another special treat: being driven around in a 1931, looking like brand new, Ford town car.

Everywhere I was given a welcome with so much warmth and love. They shared their homes and lives as though I belonged there every day. Plans were made with activities I would enjoy. Care was taken to make my trip one that would go into my memory books as a very special one. Thank you. I am a very happy-to-have-you old lady.

Looking forward next year to returning again to my room, my “light” room.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Time Travel: A PUSH INTO THE FUTURE

Time Travel: A PUSH INTO THE FUTURE: A PUSH INTO THE FUTURE We know what we want to do, don’t we? Got a plan lined out, general direction ahead of us. Then sometime...

A PUSH INTO THE FUTURE

We know what we want to do, don’t we? Got a plan lined out, general direction ahead of us. Then sometimes we get a shove, a push right into the future. How many times have we had something wake us up with abruptness? I have been plodding along, doing some of this and that, but not really accomplishing anything that makes me shout “Eureka! I’m getting there.”

A small rock changed that. Because of a small rock MYRTY-TY-LY-KY has begun putting words on to Chapter One. I have quit procrastinating about writing a book. The goal has become to write every day, maybe a hundred words or, if I’m going strong, five hundred words, or who knows.

All because of a rock. We are having fabulous weather in Phoenix. Mid 80s in May, that is unbelievable. We usually are over the 100s by now. We are all loving it. After my nap, instead of going to the YM to get some exercise, I started out on a walk. Pedometer, keys and ID in one pocket. Cellphone in the other. The time is something after five in the afternoon and I’m following the streets that have sunshine. I walk at a pleasurable fast pace, keeping a casual eye out for anyone who might be a danger. All is quiet.

Stoplight shows red at McKinley and 1^st Avenue. I stop, wait patiently. Then it happens. A crack on the back of my head. My first thought pictured a coconut falling on my head, it had that intensity. I went almost down, came up almost in tears and looked around.

A poor soul, female, much shorter than me, ragged hair, dressed in old leftovers, scrawny arms holding a sack of some kind and swinging toward me. She had come from nowhere.

That I was frightened would be an understatement. I was scared to death. I ran sideways, not wanting to turn my back on her, holding my head, somewhat crying and hollering at the top of my voice, “Help, Help.” She followed, dancing around me, that packed something in her hand and I thought she was going to throw herself on me, fighting me. Cars kept passing by and I could see the faces turned in my direction. This scene went on for minutes, a scradely being jumping up and down at me, but never getting within actual touching distance again. It seemed forever before help came. I moved away from her, continuing to holler, and then my knight in shining green armor arrived – Richard in his green Discount cab. He pulled over to the curb, opened the back door and I jumped in safe.

He drove in to the Circle K parking lot and called 911. The girl remained in the vicinity, sitting on the curb, fingering whatever was there. It was when we were answering the policeman’s questions that I learned my taxi driver rescuer has the same birthdate as I do. Really my Knight. The fire engine crew came and after the medic told me that there was no break in my skin, although a very large hurting bump was obvious, I declined going to the hospital.

Home was just a couple of blocks away. I could have walked, but I was given three choices of transportation. Richard, the cab driver who saved me, or the policeman in a car or the fire engine. Of course, no doubt about it, I opted for the fire engine. Four stalwart young good-looking hunks were my escorts and – another coincidence – one had the same last name as my maiden name. They even, at my request, gave some toots and whistles on the fire truck as they drove me home. My only disappointment in the stately ride was that there was no one around our apartment front door to see me come stepping out of a magnificent fire engine into the arms of the fireman.

All of the excitement over with now. I went to a friend’s apartment before going home. She didn’t have any ice so she took a packet of frozen chicken out of her freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel and I held it against my bump. That and small sips of wine, plus talking it out, calmed me down and I slept fine that night.

The next morning another friend stopped by to be sure I was OK. Already the news had magnified itself that I was mugged and in the hospital. Our Salvation Army pastor Major Pam came over to check on me.

I told her and others during the day that my guardian angels were taking good care of me. I have no doubt about that. Thank you, Ed. I feel well taken care of. It is that poor raggedy girl who needs the help.

Sunday passed as usual or actually even much better than usual. Four friends went out to eat in balmy spring weather to one of our favorite restaurants.

I am taking the time to write this blog because I write everything. That rock brought a reality to me. Maybe God was telling me something. I got the message. Myrt-Ty-Ky-Ly, the fierce dragoness, now has Chapter One with two pages written. I know where she is going and she will figure out how to get there.

Pictures have been recreated to tell the story. Blog written and going out into the world. Now back to work.