Finding me? No.

I am starting therapy next week.  I am anxious, but I am hopeful.

You see, I am hurting.  Some days it is a lot.  Some days just a little.  And some days I feel pretty good.  But the good days don't last, and even then, the good days are always tempered.  I am not a playful person.  I don't radiate fun, love, or acceptance.  I do experience these feelings, but they are always in the midst of a dark, choking mist, that never quite goes away.

Depression is hard stuff to shake.  In the past decade, just a few bad things have happened in my life that has truly been full of really good things.  But the bad often outweighs the good in my daily battle to keep perspective and keep my spirits up.

Seven years ago I got married, and then divorced (in April, people!!).  I had married the person I had been in love with and living with for ten years.  Two weeks after the wedding, he told me that he no longer loved me and that he wanted a divorce.  He took some of his stuff and left.  I looked over the pile of wedding gifts that covered the entire kitchen and living room, and felt like the biggest fool on Earth.  Over the next few weeks/months, I had to pack up the rest of his stuff (because he left it and I wanted him gone).  In doing so, I discovered the real explanation for his departure, in the back of his dresser drawer.  A Christmas present, with a card signed, "Terri".  Before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers in August, Terri was pregnant with twins.  Joy. 

It is my sincere hope that none of you can relate to the kind of pain that this particular scenario can bring.  I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  Well, okay, one person.  My former sister-in-law because she told me I deserved it because I was so stupid for not seeing it coming.  You can't even fathom the kind of pain and humiliation this kind of experience brings about.  To have to explain to everyone that just attended your wedding that you are now getting a divorce?  Nu-huh.  You can't.  Here's the kicker:  He left me.  I still loved him.  He was my life for almost eleven years - you can't just extinguish you feelings overnight.  In this instance, divorce was worse than death.  In death, if the person that you loved in life is now gone, that's it.  They're gone.  You can even rest-assured that they are gone from your life because death made it so.  With divorce it's different (at least in my case).  The person I loved, who I considered my best friend was gone.  He still walked this Earth.  He went about his day, but without me, because he didn't want me to be a part of his life.  It is so difficult to reconcile your feelings - you are angry as hell, but what about the feelings of love?  They die a slow, tortuous death.  Every photo ever taken during the time you were together bears some sort of memory.  Every song.  Every restaurant you ever went to.  Every concert/sporting event/party/holiday something-or-other/birthday/anniversary/funeral/birth.  Every *thing* holds a memory.  I've spent the last seven years sifting through memories.  It's difficult when you remain in the same town as when you were with this person.  Let alone the same house.  Over the years, the *stuff* has made it's way somewhere...else.

Wedding dress?  At the local consignment shop for the last two years.  Maybe they forgot about me.
Photos?  Most have been hacked up.  I can't quite bring myself to do them all - because the other people in the photos were friends, too.
Cards?  Gone.  Made a good fire.
Wedding video?  I haven't watched it in six years.  Yet I can't destroy it.  Again - there are family members in it - especially my grandma, who just passed away.
Furniture?  Most of it is gone.  What remains was mine before we even got together.
Clothing?  This didn't hit me until last summer.  I went on a tizzy in the closet and removed everything that I still had.  Besides - if it was six years old, it was outdated anyway!
Paperwork.  Next January I get to shred 2004.  Can't wait.

It's all of the other, intangible stuff that is hard.  I drive past a certain place, and (totally unbidden) a memory comes flooding back.  Sometimes it is there and then gone.  Other times, for whatever reason, it puts me in a complete funk.  This is why I need help.  It is not about missing him.  That was over a long time ago - before I met Dean.  It is more about the pain that is conjured up.  The giant soccer-ball-to-the-gut feeling that has never quite gone away.  The feeling that my fragile world, at any moment, will crumble apart.  If you have ever been hit with bad news that was completely unexpected, then you know what I mean.  There is a certain part of you that will always live in fear - that the horrible feeling of being blindsided will happen again.  There is also the question of forgiveness.  I have yet to forgive.  I don't know if I ever can.  I can forgive the action he took in leaving.  He knew what he wanted, and what he didn't want.  Good for him.  He just made a very poor choice in how he went about it - and that part I can't forgive.  And then, the most difficult part.  Forgetting.  There is a giant boot print on my heart.  How do you forget when someone just tosses you aside?  Somehow, you don't let yourself forget, because self-preservation gets in the way.  You say to yourself, "Always remember the pain!  Don't make the same mistake again!". 

Now we get to the good stuff.  I met with a wonderful lady in the months after the divorce.  She is the minister of the Unity Church here.  She had lived with an alcoholic husband for years before she eventually got divorced.  She knew the struggles I was having with co-dependency (he was an alcoholic).  We met countless times, to help me through my stuff.  It felt good to talk.  I read books.  I felt like I was making progress.  Months went by and I felt too lonely to let any more time go by, so I decided to do something about it.  Miraculously, within days of my joining the online dating site eHarmony, Dean's profile was sent my way.  When you consider the emotional hell I had just been through, finding Dean, meeting him, dating him and marrying him was easy.  I never questioned the process.  I never questioned if he was right for me.  I just knew.  Call it a gift from the Universe, and I was due something good for once.  We have experienced quite a bit in six years.  Coming together as a family and adding three more children.  Travel.  Funerals.  Health scares.  Job loss.  I have never been happier with who I have had by my side through it all.  The trouble is this cloud of fear and sadness that won't go away.  It permeates everything.  It taints every memory.  I live in fear that the other shoe is always hovering above me, waiting to drop.  That is no way to live - and it's not fair to those I love.

I have felt like a shell of my former self for quite some time.  I set out to reassess myself, after the divorce.  I sort of did.  I wrote a list about what I wanted.  I decided the kind of life I wanted to live, and the type of person I wanted in my life.  Most of it has happened.  I just know that something is 'off' - a piece of 'me' is still missing.

That is what the therapy is for.  It is time for outside help, and one should never be afraid to ask for it.

Time Out

I've been side-lined with a cold for over a week now.  This is my third cold this spring.  It began with serious chills, body-aches and a mild fever, so maybe it was the flu. ???  All I know is, it is still here.  Every three to four hours I am popping pills.  I switch back and forth between Tylenol and Ibuprofen to deal with a very sore throat that seems to be impervious to medication.  A dry cough persists, and a lot of gross stuff is going on in the back of my throat as well.  I am eating saltines like an addict, because it takes away the gross, mucusy-feeling for at least 10 seconds.  Lovely. 

I've never been opposed to going to a doctor.  But when you factor in four kids, the visit takes on a whole new dimension.  I feel like crap AND I've got to keep four kids in line.... no thanks.  The last visit to a Dr. (about a month ago with cold #2 - again, sore throat the major complaint) was ridiculous.  First of all, when you add up the receptionist, nurse (sometimes two), Dr. and billing person, that's four different people who will undoubtedly remind me that I "have my hands full".  THANKS.  I wasn't aware of that.  The Dr. (upon seeing that I have four kids methodically dismantling the examination room, will rush through the exam, just to get me on my way.  This last visit the Dr. filled out a prescription for a throat gargle/rinse and was done.  The lady at the pharmacy asked me why in the world he would prescribed me THAT?  "If you ingest that stuff it could cause cardiac arrest".  Nice.  Thank you Dr. who knows we have four curious children in our household!

This time around I decided to go a different route.  My throat hurt - bad.  I've had tonsillitis several times since childhood.  I've had mono.  Twice.  The pain-level was taking me down mono memory lane, and I wanted to be sure about what I was dealing with.  Long ago a friend mentioned that she took her daughter to a small clinic within a Walgreens in Loveland.  It's called Take Care Clinic and is staffed by a registered nurse.  I decided to take this option, just to see what it was like.  I like small clinics.  I like dealing only with one or two people.  I hate waiting rooms and the hoops you have to go through to get an appt. (which always seem to be during some one's nap time).  The Take Care Clinic is designed to help you through the small stuff.  Strep tests, vaccinations, minor ailments and injuries... it's an ideal place to get in and out fast.  So I went to the closest one (Loveland) and left the kids to enjoy a movie in the van (which I only ever do if Jordan is with them), and went in.  I was done 30 minutes later.  I have to say it was a very pleasant experience.  The nurse ushered me into a room right away and did a very thorough exam and performed two tests - strep and mono, right there in the room.  ( I hate it when they have to go someplace else, and leave me waiting for 15 minutes for the results...)  Both were negative, but the fact of the sore throat remained.  She prescribed an antibiotic because some sort of bacterial infection was causing the painful swelling and gave a nice, detailed printout of the diagnosis and services performed and the cost.  The total was $97, my copay was $15 and insurance will cover the rest.  I can wholeheartedly recommend taking this route for the quickie-stuff.  It's been two days and my throat still hurts, but the swelling has gone down a little, so I just have to be patient.  I also need to eat two servings of yogurt a day to counteract the antibiotic.

So, in the midst of feeling so yucky... the busy schedule of last week did not let up.  We had a lot of stuff to do!  Dean stayed home with me on Wednesday and Thursday so that I could get some rest.  On Wednesday I read The Help.  It was a novel my book club read several months ago, and I just never got to it.  Great read... I am amazed how well the (white) author wrote the voice of the African-American characters.  I loved the character of Abiliene the best.  I am intrigued at her practice of writing down her prayers for others.  Setting down intention like that, on paper, is a very powerful, if not cathartic process. Hmm.  I have to mention that all of the kids slept in that morning.  Rylan slept in the latest.  It was about 9:30 when she groggily came into our bedroom on her way to our bathroom.  She noticed me in bed reading and came over to give me a hug.  She asked me, "Is it Mother's Day again?".  Ha!  I should get sick more often...

On Thursday, a mom's night out was on the schedule.  I hemmed and hawed about going all day.  I really wanted to go.  The plan was to do a group lesson at Rocky Mountain Archery, and then go out after that for dinner or drinks or whatever...  I just wanted to do the lesson part.  I was in no shape to go out for dinner (plus share my cold with everyone else), but I figured I could at least do the lesson part.   My mom brought over a wonderful dinner for us from Young's Vietnamese, so Dean and the kids were set, so I doped myself up and went, with plenty of cough drops and hot tea to get me through.  It was very cool!  There were eleven of us in the group and we had a ball.  I'm right-handed but left eye dominant, so it was a little tricky.  My first set of three arrows (called an "end") went off in all directions, but after that they all hit the target paper.  I never did get a bulls eye, but I did come close.

 

See that arrow directly above the balloon?  It is resting on the balloon.  It took me four more 'ends' (yeah, 12 more arrows....) to finally pop that stupid balloon.

Friday night it was the dads' turn to all go out.  This was the first NCHA dad's night out.  I find that hard to believe, since quite a few of them have similar jobs/interests and all, but sadly, that is the case.  I am constantly feeling guilty that Dean rarely goes out on a night on his own.  He has a poker night that he goes to every once in a blue moon, but that is it.  I am thinking that maybe this night out will spur other plans - in addition to boy scouts and the dads going out once a month during the scout meeting.

On Saturday the stress level went into high gear.  It was time for karate testing again.  I had spent Friday on the couch, sporadically sewing star patches onto the pant legs on Rylan and Jordan's gis.  I had fallen behind, and they are a major p.i.t.a. to sew on.  First to test was Rylan.




They begin by focusing on the task at hand.




Cobra combination




Admiring her new orange belt...




Tiger class pic

 We grabbed a quick breakfast afterwards, and then it was Jordan's turn....




Focusing...




Stretch-rising kicks




"Mace of Aggression" (otherwise known as "Give me your lunch money!!!!")




Advanced yellow!  (Worn with the orange stripe on top, since that is the next belt he will be testing for)

 We were finished with testing, and walked out of the building, trying to round up kids, bags, cameras and so forth.  Then we turned around and saw this...

I've never seen her do this before...  I asked her where she got this from, and Rylan told me from a Little Bear episode.  Little Bear (Nick jr.) is her favorite cartoon.  And sure enough, the episode aired again just this Monday.  A frog sitting cross-legged on a rock, hands up in the air... "Ommmmmm"  in the middle of the stream.  Too funny!

We spent Saturday afternoon getting ready to go to Denver for a U2 concert.  I felt like I was in no shape to do this.  I had no desire to sit in the stadium, cough my head off (at the risk of gagging and puking) and just feel miserable in general.  But the tickets were a lot of money. My SIL called us up almost a year ago and asked if we wanted to go.  They had just gone on sale (since the initial concert was cancelled) and she had a great deal if we were interested.  I like planning ahead, but a year in advance leaves me nervous.  Who knows what can happen in a year's time??  And add several kids into the mix and it just becomes impossible.  I like U2, but I wouldn't say I am a huge fan.  I have hardly listened to any of their recent stuff.  But.  I LOVED Joshua Tree, and I knew it would be an amazing show.  I am sure if I were not sick, I would have been really excited to go.  Mom had agreed long-ago to watch the kids, and we ended up leaving very early as the traffic reports were getting worse by the minute.  The commute actually wasn't bad at all.  We even had extra time to stop at the store and get a snack and some drinks.  I was loaded with tea, coughdops, extra kleenex and so forth.  We parked at 23rd and Federal Blvd, along a side street.  For free.  We walked maybe 6-7 blocks to the stadium, where there was parking for $30.  Suckers.

I have never been to Invesco field before.  Mile Hi yes, Invesco, no.  We had plenty of time to walk around, and even though I was having a little difficulty breathing, the walking actually felt good.  We admired the 30+ semis in the parking lot that are said to be needed to transport the stage.  The stage (the claw-like thing) is actually one of three.  It takes 5 days to set up and 3 to tear down, so they need to rotate between the three to keep up with their concert schedule.  What an ordeal!  We finally found our way to our seats, which were club-level.  Nice!  Here was our view...



We watched as they continued to get ready for the show.  Lots of people watching.  I love that.  I don't like being in crowds, but I do like people watching.  The age demographic for this show was interesting.. lots of middle-aged couples with their teen aged kids.



Dean was so thrilled with his seat.  You can't see it, but he is actually right above a portal walkway , so he didn't have anyone sitting in front of him.  :)  Notice my glasses?  All four kids are getting over pink eye.  I just discovered the morning of the concert that I had it too.  Nice.  Something else to add to my misery.



The Fray was the opening act.  That was pretty cool - nice to have a hometown band be the opener.  They did an awesome job.  I only know a couple of their songs (which they played).  The guitarist also sang a song (no idea what it is called), and that was my favorite of their set.



Here is another shot of the stage, at sunset, after the Fray, but before U2 took the stage.  See the screen?  500,000 pixels.  They might have three stages, but there is only one screen.  It is the first thing to be packed up when the show is over.  It took 18 months to create for the production.  They showcased random factoids on the screen to entertain the audience.  The most interesting to me was the estimated amount of money spent on video games for that day.  Over $43 million.  More than education.  Disgusting.



Finally U2 took the stage.  It really was a great show, for the most part.  My major complaint is that it was too loud.  I know I sound like an old fogey when I say that, but I'm sorry... if you involuntarily physically wince every time The Edge hits a certain range of notes.. it is too loud.  Attending a concert should not be a painful experience.  The ballads were great though.  After I stuffed my ears with bits of kleenex, it was much better.  I didn't know much of the new stuff, but it still sounded great.  I was just taken with how 'big' the show was.  It was as much about the stage as it was the band.  By far the biggest production I have seen.  It was also neat to see the crowds around the stage as the lights swept over them.  Just a sea of people.  All I could think about was how much I would hate to be swept up in that, and have to go to the bathroom.

It was a great show, with great seats, but I would lying if I didn't say I was glad it was over when the lights came up.  I was tired of coughing, tired of having to strain my voice (what's left of it) just to be heard, and tired of being with so many people.

The next day, Sunday, offered a nice change of  pace.  We had planned on having Jordan's long-time friend Abbi over to play and have a little post-birthday celebration with her, since the kids couldn't get together for Jordan's birthday earlier in the month.  Dean stayed home with Owen and Colin, and I took Jordan, Abbi and Rylan to Fort Fun.  We played mini-golf...

Then on to go-karts... This was a first for both Jordan and Abbi.  They were both pretty nervous - but they did really well!  They didn't spin out or cause anyone else to.  Abbi was the cautious driver, and Jordan was a lead foot... uh-oh.  Then Rylan and I took a turn.  She was very anxious, but as soon as we began driving, she yelled the whole time... "This is actually fun!!   Woohoo!!!!"

Then the kids took a quick trip down the slide...



Add a round of laser-tag and we were done.  I was tired of coughing, and everyone was hungry, so we went home, picked up Dean and the little ones, and headed out to dinner.  We went to the Beach House Grill.  So yummy... each of the kids got a sand bucket (to keep!!)  full of goodies with their kid's meals.  They got a coloring book, crayons, AND a package of wikki stixs.  That is just plain cool.  The food was awesome - I can't wait to go back.  When I am not sick.  When I am done coughing.  Because on the way home, a stupid tickle in the back of my throat grew into a wild coughing fit, which of course triggered my gag reflex, which of course caused me to lose my entire dinner beside the road, on some poor person's front lawn.

I hate being sick.  I hate being sick.  I hate being sick.

I need a time out this week to get better.  Thankfully, our calendar is now empty for the rest of month.  Yeah!

Tip-toeing...

Spring is surely here, and I am just a-waitin' for fall!!

So if you know me personally, you know I don't like Spring.  Y'all know how much I dislike the month of April.  All the really crappy things that have occurred in life have occurred in April.  Just think about it.  Google it even - you'll see.  It's like the world goes fu*#ing crazy in April.  A lot of screwballs have resorted to some crazy sh!t to deal with their springtime cabin-fever... assault weapons, bombs, airplanes, pink slips, divorce papers....I'm sick of anniversaries, tributes, remembrances and senseless violence.  Sorry April....but I really, really don't like you.  And to think... you begin with April Fool's Day.  Bleh.

May is.....complicated.  Jordan and Rylan both celebrate birthdays in May.  Mother's Day is in May.  Great stuff happens in May.  And that is precisely the problem.  Most of the great stuff in life HAPPENS IN FREAKIN' MAY!!  Crazy-assed month...  

It's just go go go go go GO!!!! 24/7.

I need June to get here so I can recover from May.

Except that summer is my second least favorite season.  Hate the heat.



Visitors...

Dean's folks arrive today, in about four hours.

The house is not presentable.  And it smells like wet dog.

All I feel like doing is this...

Sigh...

A sink? Yes. A vacuum cleaner? No.

I was a lucky gal and got my Mother's Day gift a little early... on Easter actually.  We were all home sick with nasty head colds.  I got up early and made a wonderful Easter breakfast.  I used my late grandma Betty's tablecloth, and a beautiful set of china of hers that I inherited a few years back, when we moved her out of her home and into assisted living.  I was sad but grateful that I had some things to remember her by.  I dished up scrambled eggs, peach crisp, bacon and fresh bananas.  Four Easter baskets waited for the kids...

Jordan, Rylan and Owen got some pinwheels.  They blew on them and then erupted into long, drawn out coughing fits... it was actually pretty funny.  We were a sorry bunch.  Lots of coughing, sneezing and spewing all sorts of snot in all directions.  It was lovely.  And then we ate breakfast.  And Owen coughed so hard that he threw up his breakfast.  On the table, himself, his chair and the floor.  Perfect.

It was to be this little guy's first crack at egg hunting.  We were supposed to go down to Longmont to have Easter dinner with the family and do an egg hunt with the cousins.  Then, later in the day we were going to spend the afternoon and evening with homeschooling friends, having an egg hunt and potluck.  But.  It was not to be.  By Saturday evening I knew that it was to be a no-go.  We were not fit to be good company for anybody but ourselves...

So what to do?  Saturday evening we made a preemptive move and prepared for the next day where we now had nothing planned, besides eating copious amounts of chocolate.  We went to Home Depot!

This was the kitchen sink.  The sink itself is as it was when I purchased the house eight years ago.  Shallow bowls meant that it could not hold much - and splashing all over the counter was a common occurrence.  The faucet was installed (pre-Dean) by a handyman at my church, about six years ago.  Around the end of last year, the entire faucet assembly started rocking back and forth.  You would use either handle and the whole thing would move back and forth.  Dean got underneath the sink and looked at it from below.  The bolts were rusting through.  Evidently some sealant that should have been used during installation wasn't.  Dean fashioned a quick fix by installing a wooden brace that held the assembly down tight, but it was only a fix.  I was now in the mood to replace the entire thing...sink and all.  I wanted something nice, something bigger.  I hate the look of stainless steel sinks - they show every scratch and dent.  I picked out what I wanted.  I visited my new sink, on display at Home Depot, every few weeks.  I even took pictures with my phone, so I could look at it from time to time... sigh.  I wanted a new sink!!!

Look, ma!  No plumber's crack!

So I got my wish!!  Lots of helpers to get the project started.  First everything was disconnected and the non-working dishwasher was removed.  Pipes were sawn away, and lovely, greasy sludge in the pipes was admired and discussed.  I spared you the pictures.  Again, you're welcome.

Goodbye sink!

Nothing says yummy like washing dishes in the bathroom sink.

 
So while Dean slaved away, I wiped noses and hid eggs for each child to find.  Colin had one blue egg to find.  Owen had three green eggs.  Rylan had four purple eggs.  Jordan had ten orange and yellow eggs.  When they found all of their (empty) eggs, they turned them in and got their Easter gift.

Colin can now impersonate Sid the Science Kid

Owen got a 4-pack of Cars characters

Rylan got a Jasmine doll

You guessed it.... Legos.

We ended the day with the sink replacement job almost finished.  The new sink is a 3/4 sink so the hoses were not quite long enough to attach to the water supply.  And Home Depot is not open at 1:15 am.  So the sink was finished the next day.

We left this cast of characters in charge for the night...

Dean took the van to work the next day, and then stopped at Home Depot after work.  Then he finished the job in very short order.  I didn't take a picture of the new sink until Wednesday though.

Voila!

We spent Tuesday in Wray, visiting with family and attending my grandmother's funeral.  I brought back some of the flowers that were delivered from family and friends for the service.  The two flower bouquets in the center were just beautiful.  The Peace Lily on the left was the one we ordered for the service.  The Peace Lily on the right, in the ceramic pot, is from Dean's grandmother's funeral service that we attended in January.  I also have another Peace Lily that was from my grandpa Orin's funeral service in 1997.  I think the Peace Lily has taken on new meaning in our household.  (Universe?  No more Peace Lilies for a while, okay?)

So I am loving my kitchen sink!  My original request for a Mother's Day gift was a birdbath.  But then I changed my mind and figured that a new sink (and a new dishwasher!!) was the way to go.  Dean was able to install the dishwasher on Wednesday afternoon, after we picked it up from Sears.  I imagine that some moms would be insulted by something so utilitarian - but I LOVE it.  And I love that my husband was able to do all the work himself..what a gift!!  Love ya honey!  And I also have my dear grandmother to thank.  She made this wonderful gift possible.  It has given me loads of time back that I otherwise spent washing dishes by hand, and that means all the world to me and my family.

The Scenic Route..

After our hike yesterday, it was such a beautiful afternoon, that I decided to take the long way home.  We drove north out of Masonville and headed toward Stove Prairie.  I love, love, love this drive.  So do a lot of other people, apparently, because there was a lot of traffic, considering.  Lots of motorcyclists were out as well, because this stretch of road is just beautiful.  Horse pastures, meadows, tall pines, alpaca paddocks, ponds...etc.  We headed north towards Stove Prairie, and I noticed that there were a couple of other cars tagging along behind me.  I wasn't going slow or anything, I think they were just enjoying the drive as much as we were.  Anyway...

I was getting close to the turn-off at Stove Prairie... maybe a couple of miles to go.  I came around a sharp bend and saw before me a scene that made my heart just stop.  A motorcyclist was laying on the pavement in the oncoming lane, his motorcycle laying across his legs.  No one else was around.  I slowed down as I pulled up to him, and called out to him as I jumped out of the van, engine running.  He was staring at the sky.  I again felt my heart stop.  Then he blinked.  And let out a low moan.  Oh man....  I knelt down and looked in his eyes, and started asking questions...

"Are you okay?"
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Where does it hurt?"
"Can you wiggle your toes/fingers?"
"Are you able to breath okay?"
"Were you riding alone?"

It was eerily quiet for what seemed like a long time, but it could have only been less than a minute, because the other cars that were traveling behind me were pulling up to the scene as well.  Two guys pulled the bike off the injured rider.  His foot had been pinned under the gas tank, but the bike seemed like a pretty light bike.  He could even move his foot after it was freed.  I realized then that I had left the van running, so I went to move it to closer to the shoulder and shut it off.  In the meantime, one of the guys who came to help suggested the rider try and sit up.  Idiot... I yelled out as I ran back to keep the guy laying still, but it was too late.  He went as white as a sheet and his eyes rolled back.  I reached out and grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket to prevent him from hitting the pavement as he fainted.  Luckily, he came to within a few seconds. 

Then I felt the frustration of not knowing what to do for him.  He was obviously not paralyzed.  He had sensation and nothing appeared to be broken (but he was also in a state of shock - so he may not have been registering pain in a proper way).  No blood (oh thank god...), and he was able to breath without difficulty.  None of us could get a cell signal, and a guy that must have been a local went off to call for help from a nearby residence.  What else can you do except keep him still?  Another motorist arrived, and got a blanket from his car.  Of course!! (I should have thought of that).  So there we were.  Five onlookers, anxious for help to arrive, and the injured rider, still laying on the side of the road.  He was able to talk to us, tell us his name, where he lived and so on.  We all thanked him profusely for wearing his helmet.  ( I shudder to think what the accident scene would have looked like if he had not...)  Another guy teased him about the road rash he was going to have.  We all looked at the dirt embankment he must have hit, and made guesses at what must have happened...

Then the unmistakable call of a peacock rung out across the small ravine we were in.  A turkey called out in response from the other direction.  Then you could hear Jordan yell from the car, "What was THAT?!".  The peacock called out again.  Then the turkey.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  Then the turkey flew across the road and passed through a clearing.  We all commented about the turkey.  And then I looked down and saw the injured rider, laying on the pavement.  He was just staring up at the sky... probably thinking to himself that we were all a bunch of weirdos, commenting about a turkey instead of helping him.

The emergency vehicles showed up about five minutes later and took over the scene.  It was such a relief that help was finally there.  It must have been a total of 20 minutes from the time I arrived to that point.  All I could think of the entire time was that my brother often goes on rides like this, and this could have just as easily been him - and I would hope that whoever came to his aid would be just as helpful (except for the encouraging him to sit up bit).

This guy did everything right.  He wore a helmet - which bore deep scratches on the back where he had skidded across the pavement.  He wore a leather jacket, gloves and protective pants - and I think they went a long way to keep his skin intact.  He wasn't traveling at an extremely high rate of speed, because the damage to the dirt embankment was minimal, and there was no impact damage on his bike - just scrapes along the side where he slid across the pavement.  We think that he just hit gravel along the edge of the road and went into a skid he couldn't pull out of.  The windshield had torn away, as well as the side mirror.  His helmet's visor was up when I found him.  I don't know how it got that way.  All I can say is that he was lucky, lucky, lucky.  I am guessing that his injuries include a concussion, a minor ankle injury, and a very, very sore rear-end.

Jordan, bless him, was busy leafing through his Boy Scout manual (which he had with him for the hike), looking for advice on how to treat the injured man.  I am just so, so thankful that it wasn't worse... or a fatality.  I hope he is home, recovering.

Homeschool Hike: Bobcat Ridge

First Fridays of the month are hiking outings for our homeschool group.  The hikes are scheduled to last from 11 -1 pm.  We of course were moving on Owen and Colin time, so we arrived at the parking lot at the Bobcat Ridge natural area at 11:55.  Only to notice a number of signs that looked like this:

So.  We had to turn around, head home (about a 20 minute drive), drop off poor Abby, and go back.  We were on the trail at 12:55.  Just in time to wave hello to all of our friends who were coming off of the trail... Oh well!  We had a very nice time anyway...

This was Colin's first hike.  Much to my shame... I don't recall even hiking with him when I carried him in the Bjorn - other than a walking path in AR, at Hot Springs NP., during our vacation last October.  We love this backpack though... It is a Deuter Kid Comfort II - and it is awesome!!  We bought it when Rylan was one, and I love wearing it. 

It was just about the perfect day for hiking.  Mid seventies and a bit breezy, which helps to keep you feeling comfortable when you start to get warm from the exercise.  The trail begins with this wide paved part, that goes up to the picnic structure that you can see in the distance.  When we arrived there, three women on horseback came by and rested for a bit.  They invited the kids to pet the horses - which they thought was pretty neat.  We had a quick lunch and then got on the dirt trail.

The trail was very nice - groomed and even... with the grass trimmed along the edges.  I love that because this is prime rattlesnake habitat, and we had a run-in with one two years ago... so I am always skittish on hikes now.  And the little guy pictured above is our wanderer - which only heightens my unease...  He could not stay out of the tall grass.  He's a curious, headstrong kid, so I can't blame him, but every single one of my gray hairs belong to him.

Jordan spotted these treasures along the edge of the trail as we went along.  First he found what appears to be the cranial portion of a skull that looks to be from a deer, and then he found the jaw bone.  Again, I think it is from a deer.  Jordan made the observation that the teeth were 'wide and flat', so that must mean it is an herbivore.  (YES!!!)  I let him keep the jaw bone, because that is just too cool - and he could look at the teeth under the microscope.  We later came across another hiker carrying a leg bone - so there must have been several in the area, and quite possibly all from the same carcass.

We stopped to listen to the sound of the wind blowing through the grass.  Just a constant, soft rustling sound.  Loved it.  At the top of the ridge, you can see evidence of the wildfire that came through here in 2000. 

We compared the sound of the wind in the grass to the sound of the wind moving through the needles of this massive Ponderosa Pine tree.  Jordan remarked that it sounded like a screaming banshee.  I sort of agree.  I have never liked the sound either - it just sounds lonely, and a little eerie.  Beautiful tree though!!



Sand Lily

 This little gem was named "lwf" (little white flower) until I got home and could look it up.  Found an awesome identification site for Colorado wildflowers, to help me out.



Black-billed Magpie



Vesper Sparrow

 I finally got to put to use my bird identification book.  I was certain I was hearing the call of a meadowlark when I was looking at what I later identified as the Vesper Sparrow.  They have a very pretty call.  It was difficult to get a good shot of them - they take off in a heartbeat.

We reached our turn-around point at what I think was a little over a half-mile from the trail head.  Owen would not have been able to go on much further, and still be able to walk all the way back.  I am sure this distance will improve over the summer.  The hiking trail is part of a much larger loop, and there is a cabin that is 1.2 miles from the trail head.  Jordan was there just a few short months ago, when he joined in on a hike with his prospective Boy Scout troop, so he was able to tell us about it.

I placed my sunglasses alongside this hoof print to give perspective to the actual size.  You should actually hike with a quarter in your pocket for just this purpose.  The track belongs to an elk.  It's been there for awhile, the definition was not as apparent by this point.  I spared you the picture of elk scat.  You're welcome.


Crustose Lichens

 Three different colors are present here.  The brown lichen looked like wet dirt up close - so I am not sure the brown could be classified as a crustose lichen.  In Rylan's opinion, it was "dis-GUST-ing'.

I am happy to report that the good spirits stayed with us for the entire outing.  What troopers!!