Saturday, April 30, 2005

My grandmother told me the name of the condition my grandfather's in. It's called Expressive Aphasia. Namely, he's all there, but he just can't communicate. A brief internet search makes it sound like a mild, old age thing, although I haven't looked very thoroughly. I've come across some really technical stuff, but what I want to hear is stories from other people who have experienced it. She explained it briefly, how the lack of oxygen to the brain caused parts of it to shut down, and that we need to learn how to trigger these parts to get them to open up again. (In other words, some of the wires came unplugged.) Anything can trigger it, big things, little things, things in between. Sometimes he reacts, sometimes he starts doing new things. He laughs at jokes or funny things that people say or do (often before my grandmother does). He protests when he doesn't want to do something. Today, he kept saying "aha ha ha ha." I've never heard him do this before. It's wasn't regular laugh, he was simply saying "aha ha ha" over and over. Something new. Something we all leap on in hope.

I'm losing my memories of him. The real him I knew growing up as his spoiled favorite grandaughter. *cough* Lately my grandmother's been telling me stories of how they met, where they went, what they did, how they lived. A side I never knew before. He was dyslexic, had problems reading, but certainly no problems learning. (I often wondered why my grandmother read road signs out loud when they were driving someplace new.) He could use the computer, he could run a video camera, he could set a VCR timer, he was able to do almost anything he attempted. (or at least hide all evidence.)

I keep trying to remember. I remember the day they took him to the hospital, how confused and scared I was. And how I ended up babysitting four neighborhood kids because everyone else was confused and scared, too. And then Erin came home and we waited, and waited, and wondered. And our argument with Mom about her not telling us things because "she didn't want us to worry." The weeks afterward, while he was in a coma, suddenly learning about all the complexities of comas and wondering what would come next. The awful nursing home, then my grandparent's bedroom transformed into a hospital room. A sunny, cheerful hospital room, but chrome was never part of my grandmother's decorating.

I distinctly associate the smell of sawdust with him and his workshop. His fingernails were always broken, bruised and cracked, his hands were rough, cut, and generally scuffed. Always tanned from working outside. His belt buckle collection that he loved. The twinkle in his eyes that he'd get when he grinned. He never smiled. It was always a grin. The teasing he gave Erin and me that palm sanders were meant for "sanding palms" and then he'd demonstrate on his calloused hands. Him telling me that he never went to yard sales anymore because he'd bought all the yard he needed. Yes, he teased a lot. We never talked much. We didn't need to, we were kindred spirits. We'd sit next to each other on the sofa and then try to imitate each other. He collected McDonald toys. He'd go in, buy a coffee and ask for a toy. That was the last thing we did together, going around town to all the McDonalds, trying to buy all the pieces to the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves collection. We got them all, too.

I can't remember everything, though. I know there's things in the back of my mind, that if I thought long enough, I might bring it back, tell you about the way he walked, or talked. Part of me wants to keep it there, because it hurts too much to remember. I know I stare like an idiot at his brother whenever I see him, because I see my grandfather there, too, and I can't pick out which bits are who, but I just KNOW I can figure it out, and I want to see it again, and not have these past twelve years of him so terribly altered. (his brother must feel so very uncomfortable when he's around us, all these women just STARING at him. My aunts have all commented on how eerie it is.)

They're working on getting a speech pathologist for him. And a wheelchair van. Take him to experience new things, help him reopen those shut passages. Try something new, see if it helps. See if anything helps. We still need him to come back.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

A short, brief rant about the price of paperback books.

WHY DO THEY CHARGE $7.50 FOR A PAPERBACK BOOK????

I can wait and go see the movie for two dollars more.

Well, the book's probably better.

It's a good thing I had a gift certificate.

Ouch. No wonder I hardly ever buy books anymore. Thank goodness for the library. I may never buy a new book again. *wanders over to half.com.*

Monday, April 25, 2005


Sunday, April 17, 2005

Maryland Geological Survey: Miocene Sharks Teeth of Calvert County

Here's an explanation of why there are shark's teeth in the Chesapeake.

I can't believe I was stretched out on a warm sunny beach this morning. What in the WORLD am I doing back here in this cruddy room????

Well, that was a pleasant, unusual trip! It was also fairly close. It took us perhaps an hour and a half to travel from here to there. Not that I was paying much attention. I was squeezed into the back seat of a truck! (Yes, but my brother in law owns one of those trucks with the little bench seat and a tiny half door on each side. Fun!)

When we got there we decided to first go to the Cypress Swamp mentioned on her list. It was a little early in the year to go, everything was still dormant. We went through a Nature Exhibit inside the very nice little visitor's center. Besides the normal exhibits, there was a live beehive behind glass, with bees entering and exiting the hive via some sort of pipe that ran outside. Outside, we found a barred owl in a large cage. A sign said not to make loud noises, as she had been struck by a car and was now blind. If she was, it didn't phase her in the least. She would turn her head to look exactly in our direction if anyone spoke.

We then proceeded down the little wooden (or composite) boardwalk and circled through the swamp. The place was swampy (naturally) with strange little nobby tree bits poking up at random intervals. These were the 'knees' of the trees, to help support them. We saw exactly one large bright green plant, which we later figured out was skunk cabbage. (again, we were there very early in the year, few plants, and no bugs!)

After this brief visit we decided to go to Calvert Cliffs. I should like to point out that it looks nothing like any of the photos I've seen online. And somehow none of us quite realized that the cliff was nearly 2 miles from the parking lot. Which would mean a 4 mile walk altogether. Which turned into an even longer walk when we discovered the trail we were on had been flooded out and we would have to take a slight detour on the service road. And when we got there, it was really, horribly, freezingly windy. We came to a clearing with one lonely picnic table and a large signboard with some information on it. A few trees framed the sand and the huge choppy brown waves. We were on a narrow strip of beach, the cliffs to our left and inaccessible. To our right, the beach ran on for a ways, and then was cut short by a creek and a swampy area. We explored for a bit til the biting cold wind drove us back behind the shelter of the trees and against the cliff. We examined bits of earth lying on the ground, and discovering it was clay! Upon breaking some of the pieces apart, we found impressions of at least one spiraled shell, and decided that we were not very good fossil hunters. We went on to the hotel to grab dinner and ease our weary feet.

The next day we went to Flag Ponds Nature Center. Such a difference! Here was a place with several ponds, perfect for bird watchers, a small fishing shanty, and then access to the beach. All a very short walk!

This beach was different from any other beach I'd seen. For one thing, it had a very large sand bar extending into the bay, making an interesting curve in the shoreline. The beach was COVERED with shells, pebbles, and other types of oceantype debris. Covered. When you walked in some places, the ground just tinkled and jingled and crunched under your feet. Not a place I would want to walk barefoot! Some ways away from the beach entrance, there was a rope and pole fence running from the bay to a smaller pond in the sand. For Fossil Hunting only beyond this point. No sunbathers, etc. . . Intrigued, we wandered over, and began peering at the sand, trying to ignore the cold wind and still-splashy brown bay.

It took us half an hour before Erin finally found the first shark tooth. Once we knew what they looked like, and how big they actually were, we began to find more. Eventually we ended up stretched out on the sand, faces only inches from the ground, peering through sand, shell bits and pebbles. Lying flat out on the ground was a kind of protection from the wind, and the sand was decidedly warmer than the air!

I now fully understand the concept of "beachcombing." That's all we did - just brush through the sand, turning shells over, moving things gently around, hoping to find that dark, sharp triangular shape. We finally got cold enough to leave, and walked back up to the visitor's center. Inside, they had very nice displays of the things we had seen on the beach - including the little fuzzy blue balls! We had assumed they were toys, but turned out to be things that were used to clean the drains in the nearby nuclear power plant. They had thousands of shark's teeth on display, all of them way bigger than the ones I had found.

After that, we had a picnic lunch and then drove down through Solomon's Island (so not worth the trip!) and then on to Point Lookout, where we saw swans, lots of waves, fishermen, lots of rocks, a tiny bit of the lighthouse (closed) and a bird flying about with a fish in his claws. We went back to the hotel.

There, Erin and I compared our finds. I probably had more, but all of hers were bigger! Was it the miniaturist in me, thinking, ooh, wouldn't this look good as a mini display? Did I have better eyes for seeing such tiny things? I don't know.

On Sunday we went back to Flag Ponds. What a difference! The wind had stopped, the waves were calm and blue, and the sun shone brightly. We spent another hour or so beachcombing, and then left for home.

There's something incredibly relaxing about looking for shark teeth. It's kind of like solitare, except you're outside, stretched out on your stomach on the warm sand, and you have something interesting to show for it in the end. The tooth of an ancient shark!

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Got invited to go to Calvert County with my sister. She's on a de-stressing photo shoot, so it'll be a long hiking type trip. Still sounds fun! Here's a link: Calvert Cliffs State Park.

Wow! It's like . . . oceanic. I hear cliffs, I think of river cliffs. This'll be fun!

Ok, ok, so it's the Chesapeake Bay. I've never seen it. Wheee! Out of the house!

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Muppet Central News - Muppets' Wizard of Oz to air Friday May 20

A Muppet Wizard of Oz? Oh, dear. Two of my favorite things, but do I REALLY want to see them combined? Particularly with Dorothy being played by Ashanti? And Auntie Em by Queen Latifah?

Something isn't right here . . .

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Baby's Named a Bad, Bad Thing

Some parents, you just wanna smack upside the head. (and not just for what they named their kids.)

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Carrowmore

Now I want to go to Ireland. Do a search for Maeve's Grave, I couldn't find enough travel enformation on a single site to link to, but this site had some wonderful photos!

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

And now, we're at the infamous rubber band stage! Only one so far, on the right side.

I can't talk! *waves hands frantically*

I feel like I'm clenching my jaw (probably am) because I don't want to stretch the band too far. And it just feels weird. And tastes like rubber. And . And. And.

It's a good sign. Really! It means stuff is moving steady and one day I'll have a halfway decent smile.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Longmire does Romance Novels

*Snicker*

It's about time someone publicly mocked romance cover novels. My favorite re-title? "He was so pretty I felt like a lesbian"

Friday, April 01, 2005

Had an interesting morning. My mother is a bad and unusual influence on me. We had lunch standing at the kitchen counter, peering out the window at our neighbors. We saw a limo and two guys in white shirts and black pants, although we later decided that one was a woman. A wedding? Funeral? Birthday? Nosy-ness kept us at the window. They finally left after a very amusing episode with a trunk lid that wouldn't close. All guys got into the limo, putting clothing that was sports related into said trunk. Sounds like an interesting weekend at the very least!
Later on we were visited by an official interviewing us about a neighbor, I'm assuming for some sort of top security clearance. Such strange, thorough questions!

We also were experimenting with some new silver polish she had gotten, and found it worked very well. We dragged out Nana's silver, Grandma Whitmer's silver, Mom's silver . . . and every other random piece she had, to see how it affected each set. I was shocked when Grandma Whitmer's set turned from white to silver! I had always thought it was supposed to be white. I may go get MY silver set now, just to polish them. (feels weird to say, especially when I only own a handful of novelty glasses and no dishes!)

We then went up to the little antique shop on Dranesville. Very nice, exclusive shop! They had some beautiful pieces, I tried not to drool on them. It was nice to see life-sized furniture, as I've been researching miniature furniture for weeks. It all seems to awkward and bulky compared to its real life counterparts! I have the feeling I'll be attempting to make my own furniture now. I can't afford the really good stuff.

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