Wood I Ever!

We had a lovely spring and summer in Polk County with enough rain to make up for last year’s drought. Lots of green, the fish are biting and the nights are cool. Life couldn’t be much better.
I have now lost 91 pounds since the gastric bypass surgery Oct. 6 and I feel great. My blood pressure at the last reading was 100/71, the blood sugar is in the good range every day, I have lots of energy and really enjoy giving away clothes that no longer fit. The most recent A1C test showed a blood glucose average of 5.9, which is the reading for a normal, non-diabetic human type person.
I worked for the Census Bureau for a couple of months, checking addresses as an assistant crew leader for Polk County. I was laid off when we finished the county although we were told there would be other work. It was rather fun, getting back in the work place and bouncing around all the back roads of Polk County’s mountains. I saw some interesting things.

Guns and Roses
One afternoon I was in my car at the intersection of two dirt roads talking to my boss on the cell phone while planning the rest of my day. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure in a black cowboy hat, boots, no shirt, jeans, with a huge pistol on his waist and a cigarette dangling from his lips. The holster was tied to his right thigh with a leather cord. Somebody right out of the old west. He watched me suspiciously, his hand on the pistol. I spoke to him, introduced myself and told him what I was doing in his territory. He calmed down and we had a right interesting conversation but he admitted to being leery of strangers.
Another day I drove up a dirt road to find three old house trailers forming a semi-circle at the end of the road. A couple of dozen adults and half that many kids milled around. They saw me and started arguing among themselves. I did not approach. After a few minutes a young man separated from the group and walked toward me sipping from a beer can. I exited the car and walked slowly toward him. He was so stoned he could hardly talk but it was clear the group had made him “spokesman” to the intruder. They had picked him I think, because he was the least wasted of the bunch. I introduced myself, handed him a flyer explaining what we were doing, and asked him the addresses of the trailers. His left hand scratched his temple. His bloodshot eyes took a puzzled look around.
“I don’t know, man, I’ve only been here a few days.”

Anniversary
The weekend of Aug. 8 we celebrated out 50th wedding anniversary with our children and grandchildren around us. The Chef and Mrs. Chef couldn’t make it because of work demands but they were here in spirit. We laughed a lot, played on the boat, drank some toasts and really enjoyed the company. It was sad to see them leave and lonesome around the Tree House after they left. Our Oregon-based daughter-in-law will spend a semester teaching in Italy and living in a Tuscany villa. Our NCIS nephew is based there now and is about to move his family into a five bedroom house. So guess where the Pappa Bear and the Mizzus will spend their next vacation?

New Vision
In July we visited Michigan and the kids/grandkids living there. They were the purpose of the trip but while there I had a cataract removed from my right eye and a super new lens installed. Similar surgery last year on the left eye set me up for renewed vision. I no longer have to use glasses, not even for reading. At 72 years of age I am glass-less for the first time since I was 14. It has taken some getting used to. I still find myself reaching for my glasses first thing in the morning, or attempting to take them off to wash my face. But it is wonderful to be able to lay on my side and watch TV without the glasses frame digging a hole in my nose. The doctor at the Kellogg Eye Center at the University of Michigan Hospital did a great job. He walked into the surgery prep area wearing a Mill Spring Volunteer Fire Department hat I gave him last year. He set up my left eye for reading and my right eye for distance. It took my brain a couple of days to adjust to that but adjust it did. Now I have 20/20 vision for the first time. I would try to be fighter pilot but I am probably too tall. And maybe too old.

Latent Genes
Sylvia asked me one day in June if I can make picture frames. She is building a nice collection of really good paintings but she can’t show them unless she gets them framed, and nice frames can be very expensive. That simple question triggered a woodworking gene that had lain dormant for years. I have yet to finish a perfect frame, ready for display. But I have had some good practice efforts. Some very expensive practice efforts. If I weigh the cost of each frame against the cost of the woodworking equipment I have purchased since June….But I better not go there. I am having great fun and slowly turning a basement storage area into my Man Cave with power tools, wood, work benches, and all the trappings of a real workshop. I got a great buy on some wood – walnut and cedar – which I will turn into Christmas and birthday gifts and picture frames and…sawdust. Speaking of sawdust, with Sylvia’s encouragement I decided to start my workshop with a dust collection system to keep all that stuff out of my lungs. It works great. The central dust sucker is connected to each bench power tool – the table saw, the router table, the drill press, the miter saw. At each location is a “blast gate” that when opened automatically turns on the dust collector.

I did some woodworking before we moved to Mexicod and bought new power tools when we moved from Mexico City to Upstate New York. The tools followed us to Michigan and found a home in the basement of the old house we bought in Ypsilanti. I traveled so much with the AP and was so busy on the weekends with ministry stuff that I didn’t get to make as much use of it as I wanted. When we moved to Miami I had to pay for the move, so I gave those heavy tools away. I never picked up the interest again during our 20 years in Miami, what with fishing, travel in Latin America, church work, and memories of lost tools. Now that my boys are grown and given away of the house I have only my self to blame if a tool is misplaced.

Almost Six Months

I have had my three-month post op checkup and now I’m well on my way toward six months. The doctor said gave me a big “thumb up” after the three month check, saying my weight loss and physical condition was right on target. I go back for the six month checkup on March 9. This time there will be a big blood workup before hand to see how everything looks. So far my blood sugar numbers are good, in the 95-113 range fasting. My blood pressure averages right at 113/72 and I have lost 68 pounds. The weight lost has slowed considerably to about three pounds a week. I have found that if I do not exercise regularly now the weight loss stops completely. I went all last week without serious exercise and I didn't lose any weight at all.
The doctor nevertheless says I am on target and predicts that if I continue like this I will be down to my fighting weight of 200-205 pounds about 18 months after surgery. That would mean a weight loss of about 140 pounds. So I am about halfway there already!

Hardly a Handful

I can eat just about anything I want now, as long as it is not fatty, fried or sugared. I have been grilling like a pro—chicken breasts and seafood mostly – and liking the meals. I am still amazed at how little food fills me up and quells my hunger. This past Saturday we drove to Charlotte to visit grandson Paul at Queens University. His brother Peter was visiting for the weekend from Denison University. We had lunch at a popular biker pub. I filled up on four nachos and a third of Sylvia’s grilled chicken wrap. Of course, two hours later I was hungry again. But I have grown accustomed to eating these small meals four or five times a day. Three grilled shrimp and a half a piece of fish makes a full meal!

Ready for Repair

Paul was not too happy when we visited. He tore up his knee at lacrosse practice and is awaiting reconstructive surgery. The injury put him out for the season – a real bummer because it’s his senior year and he is team captain. He walked (limped) the sidelines Saturday at a scrimmage, looking more like a coach than a player. He is a coach, of course, having coached his high school’s varsity team in Ann Arbor last season. He is also up for a job as a lacrosse demonstration coach in England this summer. We met their girlfriends. Olivia is a communications major at Denison and has been dating Peter for several months. They drove down with Peter’s friend Antonio. Erica, Paul’s girl, has been carting him around in her car because he can’t ride his bike or walk far. Both are beautiful, personable young women.
Our volunteer fire department is flourishing. A proposal I wrote just resulted in a $235,000 grant to recruit and retain volunteer fire fighters over the coming four years. It appears we will get another $175,000 or so to buy protective gear and tools for fighting forest fires. Both grants come from FEMA.
Sylvia is awaiting her commission as a notary public. She took a course last month and, of course, aced the test. So in another week or two she can hang up her shingle and be the fire department’s in-house notary. That will be handy because some of the documents I submit in my grant proposals have to be notarized.
I am still plugging away on my second book – memoirs of a foreign correspondent. I call it “Under the Mango Tree.” I’m writing it at the insistence of my children and grandchildren who have heard my stories dozens of time but still think there is something interesting there. We’ll see.