Author: Shirleyjdietz

I'm still finding out what I'm about but I think it has something to do with writing and connecting with people and serving God. I don't believe I have to understand it all in order to do it and am pretty content with what comes my way, day by day. I believe there is a God who created all of us, the world we live in, the science we think disproves Him, well, everything. I know my natural tendency is to think I don't need God and I need to be saved from that. I know I need a savior and I'm thankful I have one. The small glimpses I get from the here and now of what my real home is going to be like when God restores it all - that's what fuels me, stirs my sense of adventure, and keeps me going. Until then, I write about what is.

Neither snow, nor…

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I looked it up. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”  Add to that list cracked windshields and minus 25 degree weather.

I knew it was going to be a week of new experiences, even before my friend called. She is always apologetic when she asks for help, that’s how I know something is coming. “I know you might be really busy tomorrow, and that’s okay, could you possibly drive my mail route with me? My windshield is cracked and I’m waiting on a new one. There aren’t any mail vehicles available and I’m going to have to deliver from my SUV.”

There was a time when I thought the USPS supplied vehicles to all their carriers. You know, those white truck-like ones with the name and logo in blue. It turns out, there aren’t very many of those, not nearly enough for all the rural routes in our area. Most of our local mail carriers have bought their own vehicles, specially equipped with controls on the right. My friend has a very nice Jeep that’s not even a year old. Word has it that there is a defect in the windshields (not just hers) that causes some dangerous cracks. The warranty covers replacement, but finding a windshield is hard. She would have to wait a month or more for one on back order. 

But her immediate concern was doing the route the very next day. I decided it might be fun to see what it’s like to deliver mail. I agreed to help.

It was -25 degrees F in the morning, the day after President’s Day. Mail holidays always result in more mail to deliver than usual. As I sat in my house, considering what to wear on this adventure, a thought came. We were going to be driving a 70 mile route with a window down. It would probably take six or more hours. It might be kind of chilly.  Probably should put on everything I have. 

I arrived at the post office around 10 am. Sharron had already been at work since 7 arranging her mail trays and loading packages in her car. It was full – the kind of full that makes you shut the door quickly so nothing falls out. She had me get in the car and start getting it warmed up. She finally got in the passenger seat, with two trays of mail on her lap and packages under her feet. 

My friend Sharron

“Are you nervous?” she asked. 

“No.” I answered. 

“I am.” I could have asked her to explain, but decided not to. Best to act confident. 

Her route starts on the south edge of town so it didn’t take long for my training to begin. She kept telling me to drive slow and steady. And then I realized why she was nervous. She had put herself and all this mail in the care of a driver of unknown skill. And she was asking me to drive within inches of hundreds of mailboxes without hitting any of them. She was actually quite brave. And desperate. And nervous. 

She would take a couple trays of mail in the front with her.  Letter, magazines and packages were arranged in order of the route. She would pick letters from the tray and scan packages with her scanner, bare handed. It’s not something that can easily be done with gloves on. Next she would reach out the open window and stuff them in the mailbox.  When a tray was empty, we pulled over and she got a full one from the back. On we went. 

Tray after tray of letters and an SUV full of packages

I had heard her talking about people on her mail route. She often had to take a package to their door. Sometimes she had conversations with them, and she had come to know them.  She knew the color and size of each upcoming mailbox. She knew who had a dog, and what their dog’s name was. She knew who shopped Amazon regularly and who got lots of magazines. Once in a while she would hold her hands over the heat vent to recover from the cold. We delivered mail all day.  Often in the winter, she would be driving the route in the dark, but not today. We were done around 5 and the sun was still on the horizon. 

There were no breaks and no lunch hour.  There was an unheated bathroom stop at a park, and another at a bar where she delivered mail. They were brief. Although sheltered in the car and quite bundled up, we were somewhat cold all day. The window was open nearly all the time while we drove. It did get up to 7 degrees, which was the high temp for the day. 

I have new appreciation for my friend and the way she does her work. I am thankful there are people who love that job enough to do it, day after day.  I used to wonder if I would like working for the postal service. But my idea of the job was walking through residential neighborhoods, with a cool uniform, and a backpack of letters. Not this. You could not pay me to do this for a living. Nope. 

But I enjoyed helping for a day. It was a very cool (literally) adventure. And I only hit one mailbox, or bumped it, maybe. It didn’t fall over, just sayin’…

Getting Carried Away

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Part of being human is what I call “getting carried away”, and I do it a lot. It usually results in doing things that I didn’t plan on doing, but which turn out to be satisfying. That’s what happened yesterday. 

The family resource center where I volunteer has recently moved to a new facility. In one of the new rooms we plan to have a boutique for new moms. It will have everything they need for babies, and young children. It’s presently full of bags of donated clothing, blankets, diapers, furniture, clothes racks, boxes of hangers. There was a narrow path through it, but it was a little treacherous. 

Next to it is another slightly smaller room full of toys and furniture donated from a daycare center. Boxes, bags, more furniture, and a lot of “stuff” are stacked in there as high as my head.  

I entered these spaces with one task in mind. I wanted to finish up a display item. It’s a nice piece of furniture with a wooden, two drawer base. It has a top portion with glass on the sides and door. I was attaching a plywood back that I had covered with fabric to the top. This piece of furniture was partially buried in the middle of the room. I had to move a lot of things to access it. That’s where the whole thing started getting out of hand. 

I realized that I should have a place to put the piece of furniture when I was done with it. That required moving three heavy tables, a dozen folding chairs and three large pieces of kitchen countertop. Since there really is no storage area for items like this, I decided to create one. I decided to use half the toy room for storage. That required moving half of everything out of the room. It was a game of moving piles of things from one place to another. I knew that it would all have to be moved again to a better place. I was hoping the better place would become obvious, or that the stuff would shrink during the process. Most everything I moved was large, awkward, and not on wheels. Fortunately I have been moving furniture most of my life and nothing scares me. 

It was hard, but strangely, it was fun. I also like doing this kind of work alone. That way people are not trying to stop me or tell me it can’t be done. Yes it can be done. I did it. 

I finally had enough space cleared to work with the display case. To nail the back in place, I really needed to put the glass top on the floor. I tried to tape the glass door shut, but that was not too successful. I actually considered leaving that project until I had another person to help. But I was on a roll and wanted to finish what I’d started. It was a miracle I got the top off the base without breaking any glass. It was a second miracle that I got it back and in its place along the wall. 

Now it is full of colorful quilts for babies, and I am only slightly sore from my workout. Never mind that the hour I had intended to spend turned into five hours of “getting carried away”. It was a very satisfying afternoon. 

Me encanta palomitas de maiz.

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I’m paying attention to the simple things in life to be enjoyed, and today’s bright spot is “palomitas de maiz.” It was in my Spanish lesson. It’s the word for one of my favorite foods, popcorn. It’s a word I might actually use if I can remember it. 

It’s always nice when someone calls to find out how I’m feeling. A very simple gesture of caring can do a lot for my frame of mind. The call this morning was interesting because my friend wanted to know why I had looked so tired the night before. Was I okay? I didn’t know what to tell her because I couldn’t remember what I had done that day, probably nothing unusual. Even more surprising was her remark that I usually looked to her like a ball of energy. I clearly do not have a good idea of how I appear to people. 

On the other hand, this week’s lesson in Stephen Ministry Training included teaching on how to assertively give and receive compliments. We all had to write affirmations or compliments that we had for each other and share them. My compliments were curiously similar to ones I’d received in college 50 years ago, so at least I’m consistent. That exercise is always fun. People are only telling you things they have noticed about you that they like. It’s all good, even if they say something you didn’t see coming. I went to bed last night feeling better than usual and I think it was the compliments that did it. We should be generous with compliments and I need to remember that. 

Today is Thursday, the day book cover poll #1 is finished.  I’m surprised with the results so far. What do I do when the winner isn’t one of my favorites? I pause to consider why that might be, I guess. The final poll will be between the top two contenders next week. Please come back and vote again. Please. 

My mind is turning now to think about endorsements for my book.  I need volunteers with credentials to read the book and make a statement about its value. This is going to be a tough one. I have a very short list, but it’s a place to start. 

Writing A Book

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Supposedly, 80% of people say that they would like to write a book. Only a much smaller percentage actually do write one.  I have never been sure that I would be in that small number of people called authors. But I know I’ve been in the 80% of writers who dream.  I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.

A few weeks ago, Mom asked me if I was writing on my blog. She hadn’t seen anything for a while. No, I told her. Journal entries have been sparse.  Both of my blogs have rarely been attended to, and readership has dropped off.  I’m not proud of that.  My life since Dennis has been a whole new experience, and I haven’t decided how to write about it.

But I have decided what my first book will be about. It will be about our experience with Lewy Body Dementia. My husband Dennis and I walked that difficult road for five years. I want to have the historical record for family and friends. Dennis has a granddaughter who will never get to meet him, and will someday wonder who he was.  For both Dennis and I, that time period was intense and rich in many ways. I want to preserve my own memories of it.

I haven’t felt much like writing anything at all since Dennis died. That’s why using my journal entries and blog posts during that time was an easy choice. Most of the writing was already done. I put money down with a publisher and have been working toward a finished book for several months now.  It’s a frustrating, time consuming project in many ways but also an interesting process. It has given me new stories to tell. 

One of the tasks of making a book is to choose a cover. Today, I am asking for help with that.  Designers have already submitted cover designs and I have chosen a few. This week a poll is being taken to see which cover has the most appeal.  You can help by following the link at the end of this post and voting. Based on the cover, which book would you be most likely to buy and read? I thank you in advance for your input.

And in case you are also part of the 80% that want to write a book someday, I will be telling some of those stories about publishing for you.  And check in next week for the results of the poll.  By the way, winter is a good time to stay indoors and write… just sayin’.

Here’s the link to the poll:

https://99designs.com/book-cover-design/contests/memoir-book-cover-face-off-dementia-guaranteed-winner-1311394/poll/26a933f397/vote?utm_source=voting_app&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=voting

I Remember Him

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I have a bookmark in my Bible that has this picture and beginning sentence:

“Dennis Richard Dietz, born December 26, 1945…”

It goes on to describe some of what he meant to me and the rest of his family. I look at the bookmark almost daily, and remember more about him and our life together every time. A person’s whole life cannot fit on a bookmark.

What I sit with on this day, Dennis’s birthday, is that our paths were in God’s hands all the time. He knew our moves before we made them. He brought us together.

I don’t know why he fell prey to Lewy Body dementia, but I do know he chose to view it the way he did – sometimes fighting it, trying to understand it, living with it in a form of acceptance while observing its progress in his body. He chose the path that led to his stroke. Most of the choices after that were not his, although he assented to the ones he could understand.

But today is not about his death. It’s about his birth, what a cute little guy he was as a child, what a studious young person he became, what a meticulous professional he was. His ways, his smiles, his silliness, his sternness, his peculiarities are all still in the minds of those who knew him.

Today, I miss him a lot. I think he would like knowing that he’s missed. He was such a good man.

Work in Progress

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I am very much of the mind that my time on earth is really just a character classroom, a “dry run” for something later. I am a work in progress and am often gently reminded of that. In the area of work, how to view it, how to manage it and how not to be managed by it, I am not alone. We humans seem to fall into the lazy style on one end of the spectrum, and the workaholic style on the other end. It has taken old age, and a general lack of energy to push me more toward the middle.

Yesterday was Julia’s birthday. One of the gifts I wanted to give her was my time, toward some task that she hasn’t been able to get done. I know that jobs like that constitute a mental burden and weigh heavily over time. She thought for a moment and then explained that her garden full of weeds was exactly that sort of burden. On her days off, GwennieRu doesn’t give her the amount of time outside to do large jobs. I like working outside and was glad to adopt the project.

I have some views toward work that probably conflict with good practice. One of them is that if a job is worth doing, it is worth overdoing. The other is that I like to finish what I start. Both of these were happening yesterday as I worked in the garden.

North Carolina is full of vining plants, like wisteria and morning glory, that wind themselves around fences and other plants till there is no separating them. Tomatoes, asparagus and raspberry plants had been attacked by these vines and I started trying to free them. The piles of weeds grew and grew as I heaved them over the fence.

I also kept finding large rocks and wanting to move them. The garden is in a spot that evidently was where the original house was built on this property. The foundation was made of river rock, which gives an idea of their size. Many of these rocks are so big that I can barely move them, but that does not keep me from trying.

Back breakers

By the time I was finished weeding and hauling all that vegetation out to rot in the woods, I was exhausted, dirty, and dehydrated. It was 4:00 pm and time to go in and relieve the babysitter. The evening was a little more relaxing. However, I have successfully passed the workaholic gene to Julia who finished off her birthday by painting a room in the basement, after a full day doing veterinary work. No one stopped for dinner until 8:30 pm, but I was gone by then.

Today is marked by overall soreness and a headache. Hired help has the baby today so I was glad to tend to quiet tasks in my trailer this morning.

Moderation in All Things 101, is the class I can’t seem to pass. God worked hard for six days before he had to rest, but he is more spirit than body. I clearly am not God, and although it feels really good to finish a job, I should probably have taken at least two days to wrap this one up.

Before
After. It doesn’t look that big, but it was full of plants that didn’t want to leave.

At Riverbend Farm

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I am in North Carolina, sitting in my trailer listening to the roar of the pressure washer as Kevin washes Julia’s vet truck. As you can imagine, it goes in dirty places around the countryside and gets in need of a good washing. When I last saw her, Julia was walking around the yard with the baby, probably looking for the next project.

It has not been that long, Labor Day weekend actually, since I saw Julia, Kevin and GwennieRu in Wisconsin. They came at the last minute when they realized they were not going to be able to join us for Thanksgiving. While they were with us, GwennieRu pretty much gave up crawling. She is loving her freedom to roam.

But I had already put plans in place to be here at Riverbend Farm for Julia’s birthday (tomorrow), so here I am. I arrived Sunday, late in the afternoon, just in time to have dinner with the family and their invited friends. The invited couple, with their five children, got the tour of the farm, the river, the pool and the new picnic tables, where we ate dinner. I spent most of the time getting reacquainted with GwennieRu, and listening to all going on around me.

Yesterday was my day to get settled in with groceries and checking out the trailer. The guest bedroom and bath in the newly remodeled basement is nearly ready, and I could soon have that as an option. But that is a decision for another day.

JULIA’S DAY OFF

Today, I jumped into family life. The three of us, Julia, Gwennie and I went to Bible Study Fellowship. It’s Julia’s weekly group study and I got to sit in. Gwennie went to the SeaTurtles group for childcare, which she apparently loves. The Westover BSF in Greensboro has hundreds of women enrolled and the facility is large enough to get lost in. It’s impressive that so many women are interested in studying the book of Revelation, and going to great lengths to do so.

Next was a pediatrician appointment for GwennieRu. She had a good time tearing up the paper on the exam table, but did not like having her ears examined. We are happy to know that she is up to the 30th percentile in her weight, and 90th percentile in height. In other words, tall and skinny, but overall healthy.

Getting home around noon left time for the big project of the week, castrating sheep. If you will, please go back and read post August 1, 2024 where the sheep almost died. Dr. Julia did not want to repeat that story. Fortunately, it turned out well this time. Not only did one sheep get castrated, but two got fixed, or broken, depending on the point of view. They are both doing well. One other “guy” got a reprieve since he was anemic, and another was also allowed to remain virile – I’m not sure why.

I helped with the first one, but after that GwennieRu woke up from her nap and needed someone to play with. I find both jobs very interesting.

We are teaching GwennieRu to play soccer. She’s a natural. Gonna be a goalie.

This story has been interrupted several times today, illustrating how difficult it is for me to find time to write. It is now night and I must get to bed so I can get up again early for another day at Riverbend Farm.

What? August is Half Over?!

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It’s more than half over – this month of August. I can already tell that it’s not light as early as it used to be. Summer is doing what it always does, going away.

But it’s been perfect this week, enough sun, enough rain, enough cool work weather. I love being up north.

– Hiked at Hunt Hill Audubon Camp. Such a beautiful 2.8 mile trek around lakes and forest. The blackberries are huge this summer and we had to grab a few off the bushes we went past.

Just one of the lakes we skirted.

– Worked on my first book project. I’m not reading this time, I’m writing. It is ready for editing. It’s about my journey with Dennis, through our years with Lewy Body Dementia.

– Connected with family over a breakfast at my condo, and with friends for breakfast at a restaurant. Breakfast is my major meal of the day. Why not share it with precious people?

– Thought and planned for the trip coming up in September.

– Got in a war with the deer and rabbits over possession of my flower garden

Garden beauty draws predators, and it’s not just because they’re hungry. There’s plenty to eat this time of year.

– Made some noticeable advances in my Spanish language learning

– Spent time with Mom and her brother, my Uncle Wendell. It’s good to have someone in my life who’s older than me, and there are fewer of those people around.

– Spent a lot of time watching videos of this munchkin.

Gwennie, my favorite video personality

– Gratitude time, walking the wetlands and counting the deer that cross my path. They are either not afraid of me, or I’m invisible now.

Two littles with spots and three adults. They knew they had me outnumbered and didn’t care what I would do.

Lastly, I spent hours trying to regain access to my blog website this week. Not sure how he did it, but Ryan Bruels got me back in possession, and I’m grateful for that. It’s not just physical journals that can suddenly become nonfunctional. There’s that web thing and all the entities behind it…

August 9, 2024 Friday and the Weekends

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There are many words that I say without thinking too hard about what I am saying.  The word “weekend” is one of those – most everyone knows what that word means.  Since I have been studying a new language (Spanish), I think more about what I’m actually saying in English. If a weekend is really the end of the week, it can be only one day, not two. Our two day weekend is actually weekends, one being on the front end and the other on the back. The first day and the last compromise the two ends of the week. Just thought I’d share that for no good reason. 

The days in between the two ends have gone so quickly. Wednesday, hump day, started with a bed headache and a poor night’s sleep. But it quickly got better because on that day I was reunited with my car. The auto body shop called early in the morning , and said it was ready. I walked (of course) to the auto body shop and picked it up.

Driving was a bit like meeting someone I haven’t met for a long time. I felt nervous, kind of shy and afraid I might accidentally bump into someone, or get in someone’s way. My clean, undented car was on the road, vulnerable, at the mercy of other drivers and my own stupidity. 

That Wednesday was also the day I got the letter of renewal from my auto insurance company. I can’t express how relieved I was. They hadn’t been going to renew my policy. It wasn’t because of the accident claim, but because of a speeding ticket back in 2022. I emailed an explanation, and begged them to take me back. I also had an agent willing to go to bat for me. They reconsidered and decided just to charge me more. I know all of this makes me out to be a really scary driver, but I’m not. Not yet. 

Work in progress. I’m hoping deer don’t like the taste of coneflowers.

I’m literally digging into my new garden project. It’s the small corner plot I mentioned before that I’m going to decorate with perennials. I like coneflowers. Since they were on sale, I bought a couple plants and put them in the sunniest part of the garden. I found a few others, already in the garden but needing to be moved into the sun. Now they are a group, and if they like each other, I think they will look really pretty, some day. That, and pulling weeds and grass, took up a lot of time on Thursday. 

This morning Gwen and I went to Henks Park for a walk. It has been quite cool all this week. Today, it was still only in the low 60’s, which meant no deer flies following us! It was so great and the woods were beautiful.

We go to Henks Park for the hills and ravines. Some good climbs.
Recently forested, there is a lot of new growth on the paths, and there is also Gwen, on the path.
The woods present some beautiful arrangements. That’s why we go out there.

And right now it is sunny and pouring rain at the same time! Nature does funny stuff, and we just have to go with it. 

Wishing everyone happy weekends!

August 6, 2024 Tuesday Teeth

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Tuesday is hiking day for my new bunch of friends, the Birkie Girls. Today’s instructions were to meet in the Walmart parking lot at 9:20 am to car pool to the trailhead some 20 miles away.  I was there early, because Walmart is in my backyard. Of course, I walked – still no car.  When no one showed up I started wondering if I had the wrong day, or the wrong time, but no. The email was clear. Apparently no one needed to car pool, and I hadn’t communicated that I needed a ride this time. So, no hike for me. Not to worry though. It’s evening now and I’ve gotten my 10,000 steps in doing gardening, and walking to the dentist.

This was the long awaited day to get the veneers on my top middle teeth. I have nothing good to say about the temporary set that I’ve had for two weeks. It was like my childhood nightmare of my teeth being loose and falling out come true. They were plastic and not very toothlike, hard to clean, and had to be re-glued once. The second time they fell out was yesterday so I put them back in and didn’t chew anything until my appointment this afternoon. The permanent ones are on now, and what a process. It must be very good glue that they use because it took a good hour to clean the residue out, and now my gums are sore. But they will heal.  My teeth look and feel normal again and I am glad to be done with it. I have spent way too much time in the dentist chair in the last month or so.

Now if I could just refurbish the rest of me…

I feel like teeth are important or I wouldn’t have gone through all this repair and refurbishment. I’ve seen too many unhealthy mouths, especially on the elderly, and I just don’t want those problems as I continue to age. 

I’m struggling with a gardening issue. I want to have a better perennial garden in the corner of the yard, but the deer keep eating the lillies. There’s a lot of Sweet William and Oregano there already but grass and weeds are prominent. A lot of the weeds are invasive species and have to go. Invasive weeds are a metaphor for a lot of what goes on in life…

I am serious about fixing these problems because I want it to be a memorial garden. It’s a garden that Mom started and has always loved and I want to keep it going for her. I also want to put the husband’s ashes somewhere in that space.

The corner garden. This will be my “before” picture.

On the other side of the fence from this corner garden is Walmart. And that will be a story for tomorrow. What on earth are they doing over there?