Hurricanes, here and in Florida

 Hurricane #1: Helene

As I'm sure all of you know, our area got hit by devastating winds and flooding due to hurricane Helene.  Many of you have inquired as to how we were affected, so I thought I would let you know:

Here in Johnson City, we were not affected at all.  We had three days of deluge, and one day of wind gusts to 60 mph, but our power didn't go out, and there was no flooding.  TVA has dams on the local rivers, and they were able to deal with the rain.  Just a few miles away in the towns on rivers that aren't dam-controlled, there was extensive flooding, loss of power and water, and all the things you have seen and heard about.  The I 26 bridge on the Nolichucky River that was washed out is very close to us--just a few exits up the road.  Of course, North Carolina was the hardest hit.  All those little communities that were washed away or destroyed are very close.  Everyone from the top of the Blue Ridge Parkway down to the Tennessee border is still digging out.  Those that have passable roads are coming here to Johnson City to buy food, gas,  get cash, and have cell service.  Since there is no power, the stores in the mountains are taking cash only, if they are open at all. The first day after the storm, I went to Food City, and it was virtually empty of food.  However, within a day, all stores were restocked, thanks to the amazing response from the parent companies. 

The astounding thing has been the wonderful response from all aspects of society.  Federal, state, and local emergency management people really had their acts together.  The coordination to get food, water, generators, and other emergency aid into the area was astounding.  People have come from all over the country and Canada to help.  Every time we get on I 26, we see power company trucks from far-flung places, trucks hauling earth-moving equipment, and other relief supplies.  National guard and private helicopters bring in aid where the trucks can't reach.  The helicopters brought the wounded here to the hospital in Johnson City, so for a few days, we had constant helicopter traffic over our house. FEMA has been on the ground helping people, setting up centers throughout the area. The World Central Kitchen and other relief organizations have served thousands of hot meals every day--contracting with local restaurants that weren't destroyed to make the food.

Power Company Personnel

Helicopter traffic over Johnson City one day

Mules go where trucks and helicopters can't go.

Highway scene

 

Of course, mountain people are resourceful and civic minded.  They step up to help each other in times of trouble.  Unfortunately, there also is a part of the population that is very suspicious of "the government," so there are awful rumors on social media about FEMA and what it supposedly is or isn't doing.  However, our local, state, and national politicians have been very vocal in their support of FEMA and other federal assistance, asking people to make use of the services and to please stop fear mongering.

It will be years before everything is back to normal, but some towns that had less damage are opening up again.  The Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia reopened; Appalachian State University in Boone, NC welcomed back its students; water lines are being rebuilt and rerouted; temporary bridges are being built; power is being restored.  The resiliency of humankind is remarkable.

Hurricane #2: Milton

As many of you know, my 91-year-old brother Art and his wife Dolores live in Punta Gorda, Florida, which was recently hit by hurricane Milton.  Luckily, they were not in the direct path of the hurricane, but they were in the evacuation area a bit further south.  They wisely chose to go to a daughter's home in Sebring, in central Florida, to ride out the storm.  When they got back home, they found that the power was on, although it had been off for seven hours, and their rental home had no water incursion or damage.  There were lots of downed trees, however, that the HOA and other residents were dealing with.  We are all so thankful that they chose to evacuate and that they suffered no serious effects from the storm.

Art and Dolores: If you want to add anything else from your perspective, feel free to comment.

The Hoppe Sisters

When I was nine years old, my family moved from the tiny town of Elroy, Wisconsin to the relatively large city of Shreveport, Louisiana.  My father was the pastor at a Lutheran church, which was growing due to his hard work.  My mother was his partner in the church work, so they were gone doing good deeds most of the day and often in the evenings.  In those days, parents didn't worry about where their kids were.  If we said we were going outside to play or to play with neighborhood kids, they never checked up on us.  We knew what was out of bounds, and we didn't go there, at least I didn't.  We'd come back in time for supper or chores. The only thing I did was go barefooted, which my mother strictly forbade.  According to her, only poor people went without shoes; plus, you could get worms by going barefooted. So I would go outside wearing my shoes, take them off next to the outside faucet, and when I came home, wash off my feet and put my shoes back on.  She never knew.

It was my great luck that two little girls close to my age lived three houses down from us on Merrick Street: Ann and Camille Hoppe.  Unlike most of the other little girls on our street, they welcomed me to their playtimes during the summer. They didn't seem to mind that I had thick glasses and a Yankee accent. It is through them that I was introduced to a completely different life from what I had experienced in my home.

Ann and Camille lived in a large, rambling two-story house with a screened porch on the front.  The summers in Louisiana were beastly hot and humid. In those days before air conditioning, Ann and Camille were allowed to sleep on day beds on the porch at night, something my mother thought was not proper for young girls to do.  I envied them exceedingly, while Rosemary and I sweltered in our bed at night.

Their mother worked as a surgical nurse at night, so she slept during the day.  Because of that, we had to be quiet when we were in the house.  We were under the benign watchfulness of their very elderly grandfather, Mr. Hamilton, who spent his days sitting up in bed reading books.  His bedroom was neat and orderly, while the rest of the house looked like a whirlwind had gone through it.  I loved it. Mr. Hamilton had an ancient car, maybe a Hudson, that was beat to hell.  The upholstery on the back seat was shot, with the springs coming through.  It was covered with a colorful blanket.  The shocks on the car were useless, also, so the car swayed surprisingly whenever you came to a stop.  However, we didn't mind a bit, because he would take us to the drive-in theater--three little girls on an adventure in the summertime.  

Mrs. Hoppe had a boyfriend named Sonny.  Sonny had been in the Navy, so he was the first heavily-tattooed person I met.  He was a wild man, with many tales of his adventures around the world.  He had a motor scooter and convinced me to go with him for a little ride one day, which I did.  I think we just went around the block. He took it easy and didn't scare me.  When I was in high school, Sonny got cancer.  The family had joined our church, so my father would go to see him in the hospital.  Even as he lay dying, he would regale my father with his exploits.  Dad would come home laughing, amazed at how Sonny could still be Sonny, even in his last days.

After elementary school, I stopped running around with Ann and Camille as much.  We were never in the same classes at school, and we largely went our separate ways.  Ann was in my graduating class at Byrd H.S. She did sign my yearbook, so we must have still been in contact somewhat.  But I don't remember that we did things together anymore after those first few years in Shreveport.  However, I will always be grateful to them.  They welcomed a strange little girl into their fascinating life, and that was priceless to me.

I'm sorry to say that I don't have any pictures of the Hoppe sisters from that time.  I do have this snapshot of me on my bicycle taken July of 1955.  I am on the sidewalk in front of our house on Merrick Street. In the background, I think you can see Mr. Hamilton's car next to the fence and the screened porch on the front of the Hoppe sisters' house.

Best Books of 2023

 As usual, here is my list of recommended books I read in the past year.  They are in the order I read them, not by date of publication.  I omitted any I read that I didn't really like, although you can see by my comments that I had a more tepid reaction to some of them.

*** = highly recommended

***Mornings on Horseback, by David McCullough

It took me a while to get through this one, but I did find it most interesting. Mornings on Horseback is the biography of the childhood, youth, and young adulthood of Theodore Roosevelt.  As with all McCullough books, it is thoroughly researched and most readable.  He was helped by the fact that Roosevelt’s sister kept all his letters, and he was a prolific letter-writer.  How he goes from a sickly, asthmatic child from a most privileged family to becoming an outdoorsman and populist politician is a fascinating story.  See Goodreads review for more detail: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2368.Mornings_on_Horseback

Lucy by the Sea, by Elizabeth Strout

Strout’s most recent book, takes Lucy and her ex-husband William through the pandemic.  When things first start getting bad, William absolutely insists that Lucy leave New York.  He literally demands that she pack her things and come with him to Maine.  He realizes that New York will be an epicenter of death, and he wants all his loved ones out of the city.  He also convinces their two grown daughters and their husbands to leave, but they go to Connecticut.  What ensues as Lucy and her philandering but warmhearted ex-husband are trapped in a farmhouse on the coast of Maine is interesting. Much of the content of the first half of the book is a reprise of the Lucy backstory of her childhood, their marriage, etc.  This was necessary since not everyone has read the other Lucy stories like I have.   I liked this book.  She comes to interesting insights on life that struck home with me.

Small Fry, by Lisa Brennan-Jobs

Memoir by Steve Jobs’ oldest daughter.  She was conceived during Jobs’ hippie days, and he never married Lisa’s mom.  For most of her life, he denied that she was his daughter and either refused to give child support or gave small amounts grudgingly.  Lisa’s mom finally got a court-ordered paternity test to prove he was her father.  After that, he did support her more and over time was more actively involved in her life.  For a time, she lived with Jobs and his family, although he was never generous with his love, time, or money, even when she lived in his home.  Even so, she continued to want to have a loving relationship with him, valuing the times when he was with her and they had more of a good relationship.  Not a Cinderella story, though.  She wasn’t really abused, just benignly ignored by Jobs, all the while her mother was struggling to support them and giving her unconditional love. She survived to tell the story. Ok quick read.

***Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity, by Peter Attia

It took me two months to get through this book because of all the technical/medical evidence he details.  However, I found it interesting and worthwhile to read.  Like Growing Young, which I read last year, it describes key aspects of longevity.  None were surprising, of course, but it was a comprehensive analysis, woven into his own life story.  Probably will buy it so I can read it again to mark things to remember.  Find Kindle version maddening because I can’t do that.

***The Personal Librarian, by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray

The amazing mostly true story of Belle da Costa Greene, who became the curator/librarian for J.P. Morgan, helping him build his famous library and collection of rare books and art.  This remarkable woman was successful at a time when women were rarely in such important professions. The fact that she was born Belle Marion Greener, a light skinned black woman, and was able to pass for white throughout her adult life, makes it even more astounding. A quick, interesting story.

Hummingbird Salamander, by Jeff Vandermeer

Confusing story about futuristic ecoterrorism tied in with rare animal trade—I think.  It was compelling enough that I wanted to finish it, reading all afternoon, but it really wasn’t satisfying reading.  Too many twists and turns that seemed unnecessary.

Without Warning, by David Rosenfelt

Interesting thriller, with lots of convoluted plot twists.  Not great literature, but good beach read.

***Beneath a Scarlet Sky, by Mark Sullivan

Fascinating story of a young man in Milan during the Nazi occupation of Italy.  Based on the real-life experiences of Pino Lella, who through interesting circumstances became the driver for a Nazi general.  He used his position to spy for the resistance, which passed on his information to the Allies.  This is only one of the many threads of the story of his life. I recommend this as a great read, one that you will definitely enjoy.  Thanks to Phyllis for giving me the book and suggesting that I read it.

***The Secret Life of Sunflowers, by Marta Molnar

This fascinating, most readable novel is based on the true story of Johanna Bonger, Vincent Van Gogh’s sister-in-law.  After the death of both Vincent and her husband, she was left with most of Vincent’s paintings, which were considered worthless.  Although women were not supposed to be art dealers, she took upon herself the task of finding galleries who would show his work. 

The book has a corollary fiction aspect telling about a modern woman who finds Johanna’s story in a box that was left to her by a beloved aunt.  Including this aspect allowed the author to have romance and an uplifting story of a present-day woman dealing with a life transition.  Good for the book club set, I assume.  I liked it.

 

Christmas "Letter" 2023

 Alan and I wish you a most happy holiday season! As usual, instead of mailing a card or letter, I will do an update on things of note this year that I haven't covered in this blog.  Some of you who are Facebook friends, may recognize some of the pix.

We did four trips that I haven't told you about:

In June, we had a modified "Bliese" family reunion at Folly Beach, SC, near Charleston.  My sister Rosemary, niece Jeanne, and husband Kris came from PA; grandniece Lea from Charlotte; nephew Pete and wife Karen from Chicago; and nephew Paul from Columbia. We had a lovely time exploring Charleston, enjoying the beautiful beach, and just being together.

Rosemary and I with Jeanne, Kris, and Lea
Paul had to leave early, so we didn't get a pic of him.  

Pete and Karen on the boardwalk from house to beach.

Nice outdoor deck for eating and enjoying the view.

Great screened porch where we spent lots of time

915 Ashley, if you ever want to rent a pleasant six bedroom beach house at Folly.

In August, we took the trailer to Rock Creek Recreation Area, which is very near where we live, for our annual outing with our friend Kevin and his daughter Emily. It rained torrents while we were there, but we still had fun.  It made the creek into a spectacular set of rapids, rather than the lazy creek it usually is.  The only pix I took of the creek are videos, which are difficult to get into this blog.  You can check them out on my Facebook posts, if you wish.

Our favorite site

We drove up to Beauty Spot.

View from Unaka Mtn. overlook

In October, we joined Alan's sisters and their husbands at a cabin at Rock Island State Park, in central Tennessee.  It is a beautiful park with many wonderful waterfalls.  We had a fantastic time with everyone and seeing the beautiful sights.  

That orange dot is Alan, who was the only one to do the trail
 to the bottom of the gorge.  This was just one month after
he had his hip replaced, but he was determined to do it.
No ill effects, luckily.

We spent a delightful Thanksgiving week near Atlanta, GA at the home of Alan's sister Susie and her husband Ed.  Besides having a fantastic Thanksgiving dinner, we did a lot of most enjoyable things, including celebrating Susie's birthday.  Unfortunately, the only pix I have are from a fun Winter "Lantern" Festival we attended. 

Everyone got a halo light to wear,
which did help in keeping track of folks in the dark!

These "lanterns" were huge.  See person for scale.

Susie and Ed's cat Mitsi became Alan's best friend.
Alan really misses our dear Shelby,
so this was a lovely thing to happen.

I continue being active with a local garden club.  We had a flower show at an art gallery this year, which was way more complicated than I ever imagined.  My part was to handle publicity since I am not good at doing the fancy designs.  They were very grateful, though.  It was extremely well attended.  I did enter a couple of the horticulture categories, and my hay-scented fern got best in the fern class.

I spend a lot of time in the yard, also, and the flowers are usually quite pretty.  Due to the steep lot and my advancing age, I am hiring people to do things more and more.  

Basket on front of house

State Fair zinnia with butterfly

Black-eyed Susans with crepe myrtle

bee on sweetspire

The daffodils continue to be beautiful each spring.

We reached the 70/80 milestones this year, so we are ever aware of how our time is getting shorter.  Alan's hip surgery helped his pain a lot, and we are grateful for his complete recovery in such a short time.  I have issues with my feet, knees, and shoulder, mostly from arthritis, but I am trying to stay as active as I can. Because towing the trailer is becoming more of an issue, we have decided to sell it and the truck and get a used camper van--probably a Winnebago Travato.  A van would be much easier to drive and back up, park in a regular parking place, and would be something I could drive in an emergency. But we are in the earliest stages of that process. So if you know of someone who would like to buy our truck and/or trailer, they are for sale.  The truck is a 2007 Toyota Tundra with a cap on the back, in excellent condition. It has a back-up camera on the hitch, so you can easily hook up the truck to trailer without assistance. Trailer is a 19' 2017 Lance, model 1995. Trailer has a full bath, but I don't have a pic.

Once we get the van, we plan to do an extended trip out West, and maybe take the ferry to Alaska. At least, that is our present plan.  Not sure when we will pull it all together, but hope that we can do it next year.

As we have done for the past few years, we will spend Christmas in Huntsville with Alan's family.  It is always a wonderful time of joy and love. May you also have a joyous holiday season with those you love.  

Alan models his new Christmas hat.  

Alan's hip replacement: September 1, 2023

 Alan had his left hip replaced on September 1.  After doing a lot of research, he decided to use a surgeon in Knoxville, who does the anterior approach.  (Thank you Phyllis for the recommendation.) This method separates the muscles to do the replacement, rather than cutting through the muscles.  As a consequence, the surgery is much less invasive, and has a much quicker recovery time.  It was same day surgery, using a spinal injection, rather than general anesthesia. They got him up to walk with the walker as soon as he was able to move his lower limbs.  It was really amazing.  I drove him home to JC that same day.

He was given strong pain meds, but he only used them for a few days, taking Tylenol since then, as needed.  He only used the walker for a few days, also.  They gave him this great machine that circulates cold water through a pad.  It worked well for pain and swelling.  The big thing was that he was supposed to get up and walk every hour or so during the day to keep from getting blood clots.  After a day or so, I enlisted the help of Alexa on that, setting a timer when she reminded him to walk. He knew it was important, so he was willing to do it.  He also has gotten physical therapy once a week, which has been very helpful. Benchmark Physical Therapy in Boone's Creek is the office he has been going to.  The therapist has been excellent. (Thank you Mairzy for the recommendation.)

He was cleared to drive as soon as he stopped taking the opioids and felt comfortable with his abilities.  We went to Knoxville yesterday for the followup appointment with surgeon, and he drove back from Knoxville easily.  The surgeon was satisfied with how he was doing, and his incision looks great.  We will go back in three months for another routine followup.

It will take a while until he is back to his normal activities.  It could take six to twelve months to full recovery.  However, Alan is motivated to do things, so he won't sit on the couch for long.  We plan to do a short walk on a track or at the Tweetsie Trail this afternoon.  We are having beautiful fall weather, with the high in the low 80's, so it should be fun.

The first week in October we meet Alan's sisters and their husbands at a cabin at Rock Island State Park in middle Tennessee.  It is supposed to be a beautiful park with lots of waterfalls.  It should be wonderful in the fall.  Alan should be able to do some limited trail walking by then. Alan's family is always a joy to spend time with.

Gratitude

As many of you already know, we made the painful decision to euthanize our dear Shelby on June 22.  She was diagnosed with intestinal cancer in January and given 1 - 3 months to live.  We are grateful that with loving care and appropriate medicines, she lived two months longer than expected.  She was with us for six and a half happy years.

My favorite picture of her

I want to express my gratitude to several people, and tell the story of how Shelby came into our life:

• When we lived in Kingsport, we had wonderful neighbors:  Rob and Penny.  Penny loved cats and always had at least three indoor-outdoor cats.  One day at his workplace, Rob encountered a calico kitten that was living in a culvert.  He and the other workers started feeding it, and it would ride around on the equipment with them sometimes. Before long, Rob asked Penny if she wanted to adopt the kitten, and she said yes.  So the calico kitten moved next door to us. Thank you Rob for saving her life and giving her a happy home.
• Penny's son Tim named the kitten Shelby, after a race car driver.  So she became Shelby.  Thank you Tim.

Because our houses were so close, Shelby started hanging out at our house, too, which delighted us.

First picture we have: Spring 2014
My caption is "Neighbor's cat under our dogwood tree."

She would jump from deck to top of fence to top of pergola.

Penny took this great pic of Shelby on our deck.

How Shelby came to be our kitty is an interesting story:  At that time, Alan would smoke a cigar each evening.  Because I wouldn't let him smoke in the house, he would be on our carport, no matter what the weather.  In the winter of 2016, he purchased a propane heater, and he would sit outside in front of the heater each evening to have his smoke.  Of course, kitties love sitting on someone's lap in front of warmth, so Shelby started joining him each evening.  Alan loved cats, so they were a happy pair.  After he finished smoking, he would carry Shelby next door, so she could go in from the cold.  As time went on, she started refusing to go in, wanting to stay with Alan.  This escalated until one sleety, stormy night when she made her decision.  Instead of going in at Penny and Rob's, where she was loved and well cared for, she started crying and clawing on the corner of our house at the windows of the dining room. Alan looked at me and said, "I guess we now have a cat."  Penny reluctantly agreed, and Shelby moved in.  Thank you, Penny.

She was standing on deck railing clawing
 on corner of house the night she chose us, really Alan.

I also want to thank Dr. Rachel Hart at Mountain Empire Small Animal Hospital in Johnson City.  She provided the correct diagnosis when another vet had dismissed Shelby's symptoms as normal.  As a consequence, we were able to immediately begin the prednisone and other drugs that prolonged her life and helped alleviate her pain.  In addition to the office visits, Dr. Hart talked with us on the telephone to help us understand what we needed to do, always being extremely generous with her time. When she saw that Shelby was scheduled for euthanasia at the end of the day yesterday, she made sure that she was available, should we want her to perform the task.  Of course, we did.  Shelby's passing was painless and fast, done with great gentleness and consideration of our needs, as well.  We are so grateful for that. She thanked us for not waiting until Shelby was in horrible pain.  This gave us a lot of comfort, knowing that we had made the right decision.

Finally, I want to thank all of our friends, relatives, and Facebook friends who have written kind condolences in e-mails, texts, and Facebook posts.  Your thoughtfulness means more than we can say.

So now, with great sadness, we move on with our lives.  But we will always remember our sweet kitty.

Granny Morrow

I just finished reading Outlive: The Science and Art of Longevity by Bill Gifford and Peter Attia, and it got me thinking about the only person I have ever known who lived to be 100 years old.

Granny Morrow was my first husband's great grandmother.  When I knew her, she was in her late 90's living independently in a four room bungalow in Frankfort, Kentucky. Over the years, she had outlived her husband, all three of her sons and their wives, and at least one somewhat addled female relative caregiver.  I became an occasional caregiver in 1980 after our 13 month RV trip, in the interim before starting graduate school at UK.  Because she was hard of hearing, she never got my name right, always calling me "Rosa." So Rosa, I was.

Granny was a small woman, who spent her days in a recliner in the corner of her living room watching television and smoking her pipe.  She had a special mixture of pipe tobacco that she combined herself in a large coffee can.  One of my first tasks was to walk down to the corner gas station/convenience store to purchase the specific tobacco brands she required.  She always wore an apron, because the sparks from her pipe would fly out and burn her clothes.  The sparks would really fly when she got angry about something she saw on TV.  She was an ardent Democrat who hated Ronald Reagan.  Whenever he was on TV, the smoke, sparks, and choice comments would fly.

The first morning I arrived at her house, I asked her what she wanted for breakfast.  She said that she wanted two fried eggs and a goood (rhymes with food) cup of coffee.  So I proceeded to the kitchen, where I encountered a small stove-top percolator.  I brewed what seemed like a goood cup of coffee to me and brought it to her. She took one taste and said, "Eew, that's the awfullest stuff!!"  At which point I did what I should have done to begin with, and asked her what she meant by a good cup of coffee.  It turns out that it had to be extremely strong.  I've forgotten how many scoops of coffee were required, but it was even stronger than what I had encountered growing up in Louisiana.  As far as I could tell, she lived mostly on coffee, fried eggs, and chicken noodle soup. Yet she seemed healthy to me, especially given her age. She did give me detailed directions on how to cook a groundhog, once.  I wish I had written them down.

After each meal, she would repair to the bathroom, where she would stay for an extended period of time. It seems that she believed that one should have a BM after each and every meal, so she would try to accomplish that.  I never questioned her wisdom on it.  Some things are better left alone.  After all, she had lived to be almost 100, and this practice didn't kill her.

To make conversation with her one day, I asked where her ancestors had come from.  She said, "Owen County." (A county north of Frankfort.) I said, "What country did they come from before coming to America?" And she answered, "Owen County."  "So you are almost 100 years old, and as far as you know, everyone before you in your family lived in Owen County?" "Yes."  I was amazed.  They must have come over Cumberland Gap with Daniel Boone! But she didn't know.

After a while, Granny became mostly bedridden, so she could no longer live on her own.  Her relatives  found a nice family that took in several old people to care for them, so Granny moved there. They promised to fix her whatever foods she wanted, so she continued on her coffee, fried eggs, and chicken noodle soup diet.  It was there that she celebrated her 100th birthday, surrounded by family and friends.  Not too long afterwards, she passed away.  

I am so glad that I had the opportunity to know and spend time with her. If I live to 100, I hope I am as feisty, opinionated, and interesting as Granny Morrow was.