The Glebe

The other day on a whim, I took a much-overdue drive down the Glebe.

I rarely go down the Glebe, really, because I don't have any particular reason to.  But when I do, I always stop to take pictures of this soybean field and the little barn in the background.

Well, we all survived Thanksgiving.  My father is home and recovering nicely from all his health woes, although last week he was readmitted for a fever.  Thankfully they were able to control the situation, and he could return home in time for a fabulous Thanksgiving feast.

I completed my third chemo treatment last Wednesday, which means I have nine more to go.  So far, I continue to feel OK relatively speaking.  My hair has started to fall out, but thankfully I have so much of it, there's plenty to go around.  It's possible, although I'm not clinging to the notion, that I won't lose it all.  But if I do, I do. 

Aside from surviving, I've been trying to work when I can, although the commute and the stress of my job make for long days. It's shocking to realize the Christmas season is upon us once again, speaking of stress...I don't have the energy to battle with my huge artificial tree, so I am going to have to do something different this year.  What that is, I've not yet figured out. But it's going to involve a smaller, easier tree.  (Is there such a thing as an easy Christmas tree?)

Anyway, that's about it from my neck of the woods.  I hope all is well with you.

Fall

This weekend's weather could not have been more perfect.

The skies were sunny and the humidity was low.

Fall is definitely here.

The signs are everywhere.  

The soybean fields have turned from lush green to yellowish brown. 

Sunday around noon I parked the car at Aaron's Beach and jogged four and a half miles along the road and fields pictured above.  The weather was crisp, clear and beautiful; the local nuisances of horseflies, mayflies, fiddler crabs and gnats were nowhere to be found.

Unbeknownst to me, however, the praying mantises and winged monkeys grasshoppers are in full swing these days.  They blended in very well with the pavement I was pounding (and also the soybean fields I was staring at).  The grasshoppers wait until you're just about to step on them and then leap/fly up, up and away.  There were so many of them leaping/flying forth unexpectedly that at one point I started to wonder if I ought not run with my mouth closed and breathe through my nose.

Because, as it was, if even one over-sized, blending-in-to-the-road grasshopper decided at just the right time and at just the right trajectory to fly forth as I was passing by gasping for breath on my otherwise blissful run, chances were pretty good I'd choke to death on that gigantic, winged grasshopper.

I thought long and hard about the obituary and the stories that might be told to anyone inquiring about my death.  "She was running.  It wasn't her heart.  No, it wasn't that cardiac event she often worried about while practicing for that half marathon.  No, it was a grasshopper.  She choked to death on a winged-grasshopper that flew into her mouth while she was running.  They found her in the middle of Aaron's Beach Road."

Then I thought, well, as long as I'm going to die--and odds are pretty good I'm going to at some point--it might as well be a grasshopper, because at least that would be a  humorous way to go.  No?

These thoughts on changing seasons and mortality are brought to you by the number 50, which looms over my head and is about as welcome as a winged grasshopper ready to jump down my throat.

Happy Monday.

Green

After being away from home all last week, we returned to a lush, green back yard.

That patch of high foliage there near the creek in the shot above makes for some nice pictures up close.

Our front yard is full of life too.

Below, the crape myrtle does her thing.

(Is it crepe or crape?  I can never remember. I thought it was crape but can't find a definitive answer.)

The soybeans that are now growing in our former daffodil field are really beautiful.

I do confess.

Green, green, green.

What's happening outside where you are?

Outbuildings

These were taken early Thursday morning from the Diggs area of the county.

I happen to love this field and the structures that live in it, especially 

during soybean season when the field is all lush and

the red sheds look like they're drowning in a sea of green.

But in the winter, 

the red sheds come alive in contrast to the stark,

drab landscape that screams cold winter day.

Speaking of screaming, I did just a little last night.

Daughter's basketball team beat King William to make two wins in one week.

Yesterday I said it was the last home game, and that's incorrect.  We have one more home game Monday night (when the seniors will be honored) and then back-to-back away games Tuesday and Wednesday.

I see no reason why we can't win all three games.  So that's what I'm putting out there to the universe.


_______


Hello, Universe?  We're on a roll here, and we're not going to disrupt our winning streak.  OK?

OK.  Thank you for understanding. Also, thanks for the snow recently, I really enjoyed it.

Love, 
CBW

_______


And thank you, dear readers reader for understanding that I am currently obsessed with warm weather and sunshine, which are nowhere to be found obsessed with basketball.

Have a great weekend.

Dirt Lane

The other day, after dropping off Daughter at cross country practice,

I drove down the Glebe for the first time in 

a month of Sundays

a while.

I wanted to check on a soybean field that I adore.

It is still there.

So are the outbuildings adorning its edges.

~~~~~~~~~~

Have a fantastic weekend.

Bluer Skies

Thirteen days ago I left Mathews for Norfolk, 

where my son and I spent five long days

in a hospital for his surgery.

We were sent home with six different medications

to be taken around the clock, every three hours.

(The smoke you see coming from 

my ears the sentence above is due to too many 

medications to keep track of and administer

numbers, none of which adds up to a solid night's sleep.)

(Those are dead balloons, but when we arrived home they were very festive.)

Slowly--veeeery slowly--he has improved.

We've had to take it slow, but at least we're moving forward.

Today I am returning to work.

(Thank God for paid sick leave while I was out.)

The school will send someone over this evening

to start him on the long road to catching up with all

his class work.

By the end of the week, 

he hopes to return to school,
if only for half a day.

While we were busy coping with the surgery,

Mother Nature waved a magic wand and created

the most amazing weather.

Cool temperatures, low humidity, and crisp, brisk evenings filled with the calls of crickets.

And the marigolds are blooming.

Life is good.