Last year, a few days after my birthday, I scrapped my MySpace blog, mostly due to interface changes, and ventured here to WordPress with a backup blog at Blogger. My original intention was to journal my astronomical adventures here and do some inspirational topics on the backup site. While I didn’t blog daily, I did manage to craft over two hundred blog entries here (this being my 225th).
Cygnus (the Swan)
In honor of my original intention to explore the heavens, I wanted to encourage everyone (and motivate myself) to participate in this year’s Great World Wide Star Count. Don’t be shy! Anyone can participate and it doesn’t require any equipment beyond your eyes. This project is an annual survey of the night sky, held this year between October 14th and 28th (7-9 pm optimal viewing window) to record how many stars you can see in the constellation Cygnus (the Swan) in the northern hemisphere (follow the link above if you reside Down Under). This helps map the spread of light pollution. I plan to get out my telescope (for the first time this fall) and view the beautiful blue/yellow double-star Albireo. I can’t tell from the survey’s website if they are affiliate with the IDA (the International Dark-Sky Association), but I’m doing my bit (via this blog) to raise awareness about the value of dark skies and their preservation and restoration.
And now, a brief retrospective of some of my favorite blog entries (indicated with asterisks) from the past year and a few popular (according to the stats) highlights:
My 15th Anniversary at Work (but wait, I had to password protect that entry to protect unnamed entities; send me an e-mail if you want to read that super secret blog post) (Aug 2011) *
I am so tired I literally cannot see well as I write this blog entry. I felt the need to preserve my tiredness for posterity by sharing the highlights of the first whirlwind weekend of October 2011, which coincidentally corresponds to my birthday.
I planned earlier in the week (still in September) to attend the Friday opening night showing of Courageous with my hubby. Since I ended up driving the van for the workday commute last Friday, I got home early, around 5:15 pm. While changing out of my work clothes, I received a call from my uncle, who is visiting Winfield, Kansas for events surrounding Homecoming at his alma mater, Southwestern College. I’ll spare you the details from the thirty minute conversation and instead refer you to last month’s post about interfamily technical support. I dispensed what help I could and we headed south to the Legends, making a quick stop at Subway for a bit of supper.
With a good fifteen or twenty minutes to spare, we were surprised to learn the movie was nearly sold out and we ended up seated in the second row of theater eight. While Terry and I thought the movie was good, we did not think it was as great as Fireproof or even Facing the Giants. It suffered from scrambled subplots, sprawl and heavy handed preaching at the expense of good story. There were a few laugh-out-loud moments. While the theatre was packed, but you could tell you were ‘preaching to the choir’ from the composition of the audience.
Saturday, the first of October, we had planned to board the dogs and head south to Wichita to visit Terry’s life-long friends after the recent death of several family members, with the intention of attending the memorial dinner Sunday evening. As noon approached (and the cutoff for dropping off the dogs at the kennel), we learned one of the family members thought they had the flu, and since neither Terry nor I have received this year’s flu shot yet, we opted to do a marathon trip on Sunday rather than expose Terry to potential viruses. I canceled the boarding and Terry canceled the lodging, which left us with time on our hands.
Terry wanted to take me out for a birthday dinner, since my actual birthday would be spent driving to and from Wichita to attend a funeral. I struggled for an hour trying to find someplace relatively close to dine at, finally deciding to try Stone Canyon Pizza in downtown Parkville, Missouri. We drove through a beautiful fall later afternoon along K-5 and Missouri 45 only to discover upon arriving in Parkville that the city was overrun with an Octoberfest and locating a parking spot close enough for Terry became a pipe dream. The backup plan became Zona Rosa and we eventually ate at Abuelos, a Mexican restaurant (not my first choice for cuisine, since I despise cheese, but they were convenient and not overly crowded and we got front door parking on a Saturday evening).
Terry suggested that we drop by High Noon Saloon to listen to Southern Reign. We arrived shortly after the first set completed, spoke to the band members briefly, then found a table and enjoyed the next two sets. I surprised myself by ordering a hot chocolate as my first drink, since the door to the Saloon was propped open and the temperature kept falling quickly as the night progressed. I must admit that hot chocolate proved to be one of the best, if not the best ones I’ve ever drank.
I spent most of Sunday morning recording DVDs from the DVR (same way I spent Saturday afternoon once we decided not to drive to Wichita). I even sneaked a watch (without the hubby) of the season finale of Doctor Who (more on that later in the week) and the latest Star Wars: the Clone Wars. Terry woke up before noon and we hit the road by one o’clock. Having forgotten that Kansas recently raised the speed limit on Interstates from 70 mph to 75 mph, we made record time down the turnpike, savoring the autumn beauty of the Flint Hills.
Many friends and family attended the memorial service and dinner, including half of the decedent’s high school Class of 57 (all eight of whom drove up from Oklahoma on Sunday and planned to return that night). Of the two hymns we sung a capella, I loved singing In the Garden, which had been my great-grandmother’s favorite hymn. I received several complements on my singing, even though I haven’t sung regularly in months and tried to keep my volume as soft as I could without sacrificing pitch and phrasing. The dinner, provided by the host restaurant (Yaya’s Euro Bistro) proved delicious and soon afterward the guests began to depart. We tarried long enough to briefly speak with our grieving friends, then hit the road north, shortly after eight o’clock.
I drove the first leg of the trip, stopping briefly at the Matfield Greene Service Center to get some water for Terry. His poor digestive system needed some heart burn relief via Alkz Seltzer. I spied a couple of interesting paintings of sunflowers, my favorite being the one below:
I continued driving north and took a brief side trip to Emporia for my one birthday treat of the day: ice cream from Braums. Terry drove while I enjoyed my butter pecan waffle cone, returning to the turnpike. The clear skies shone with brilliant stars, such that I even asked wistfully if Terry could drive without the headlights just so I could enjoy such pristine dark skies. He ignored me and kept driving safely. Soon after finishing the cone, I fell asleep. I drug myself out of my dreams after we crossed over the Kaw River east of Lawrence and stayed awake until we pulled into the driveway at a quarter past eleven. I stumbled upstairs and crashed into bed, but failed to fall back asleep until after midnight.
After such a jam packed weekend, I dreaded the five o’clock alarm that would set me off on further adventures, this time for my employer, with a business trip to the Windy City aka Chicago (a misnomer if you consider the factual data that points to Dodge City as the windiest city in the States). In fact, I’m finishing up this blog post in my hotel room after a long day of work and travel. I’m so looking forward to more than five hours of sleep.
September went into a tailspin about a week ago. I can’t remember the last time I actually received personal good news from family or friends. Death or dying and depression crowd around me, jostling for position and attention, blotting out my surroundings: beautiful sunrises and sunsets, crystal clear night skies bursting with twinkling stars, perfect weather any southern California native would drool over.
I woke up this morning after having tossed and turned and lost the skirmish with my sheet and pillows. Apollo couldn’t wait to jump up and greet me with a wagging tail and unconditional canine adoration. Roxy slept on, sprawled on the floor, oblivious to anything but her dreams of breakfast. I rubbed the crusty, dried sleep from my eyes, slipped on my reading glasses and woke up my Nook to see what had happened in the wider world while I pretended to sleep.
I soon read the sad, tragic news of the death of Sara Douglass (aka Sara Warneke). I discovered this astounding Aussie female fantasy writer a half dozen years ago and loved everything she wrote, especially Threshold, the first novel I found written by her. As I perused the various postings on Twitter and Facebook about her passing, I found her blog post from March 2010 she entitled “The Silence of the Dying.” I took a few minutes to read the entire post, after which I couldn’t help but shiver, especially after the seemingly prophetic nature of the most recent Doctor Who episode “Closing Time” wherein the Doctor seems to fall apart (emotionally) as he approaches the day of his death (flashback to the start of this season and the “Impossible Astronaut“). He even utters some dialog containing the words ‘silence’ and ‘dying.’
After reading Sara’s thoughts on how modern society sticks it’s head in the sand with respect to death (and the dying), I pondered my own situation. Part of my September tailspin centers on a sharp worsening in my health. Par for the medical course, I’m running the gauntlet of various tests, procedures and eventually a biopsy (scheduled for mid-October), all of which amounts to endless waiting for results and the accompanying anxiety. Just as Sara describes in her blog post, I prefer to keep silent, as I don’t want to appear ‘weak’ by complaining. Of course, at this stage of the ‘game’ I’m not in much pain or discomfort (not compared to what Sara or other cancer victims endure). And I must put up a good front for my husband, one of the chronically ill routinely maligned or ignored by modern day society. He needs me to be ‘strong’ and I will remain so as cheerfully as I can.
Normally, I look forward to the beginning of October and the advent of autumn with peace and joy in my heart. Of course, the fact that my birthday occurs the day after the first of October wouldn’t have anything to do with that would it? But this year, no birthday cake with sputtering scores of candles will great me. Instead, my husband and I will travel south, to his home town, to console and support his life-long friend and his wife in the sudden and unexpected loss of her mother, so soon after his mother’s death. Oh, and their dog died last week in the midst of all this family tragedy.
I am full of unanswered questions and troublesome, uncomfortable thoughts today, ones that I wish I had the courage to shout out on a street corner to the self-absorbed oblivious passersby. Rather than deprive a homeless person of their accustomed spot, I will jump up on my bloggity soap box instead.
From a Christian worldview, I can understand some of the silence surrounding death and dying. Jesus conquered the grave, therefore, it follows, that we can sweep this whole messy business of dying under the proverbial rug. (Yes, I’m being sarcastic). Yet, even Jesus wept (and raised Lazarus from the grave). Jesus also suffered, but not silently, and died, nearly alone, on a cross we nailed him to, at a crossroads dung heap outside Jerusalem. Two thousand years later, we’ve sanitized and compartmentalized dying, hiding it from ourselves so we can ignore the writing on our own walls.
I ask that you stop for a moment and spend time, yes, that very precious commodity you can never, ever get back, with a friend or family member who is dying. Don’t send flowers, or stuffed animals or Hallmark cards. Give them comfort. Don’t expect them to put you at ease about their situation. Embrace the truth. For you know, it’s not ‘if’ we’re going to die, it’s when. We’re all dying. And I, for one, will not go silently into the night.
Yesterday started off normal enough. Snoozed through a couple of alarms. Woke up feeling a bit woozy, so I took it slow. I fed the dogs and let them rummage around in the back yard. I descended three flights of stairs (well, half flights anyway in my strangely split four-level house) and found something to wear to work. I made sure Terry was awake and ready by six so we could take the Bonneville to the repair shop for an alignment and rotate and balance of its tires. Then I sat on the front porch waiting to be picked up by my vanpool, having asked the backup driver to pick me up at home so Terry would have a vehicle.
The commute to work was uneventful and I began my workday with a green tea, toasted wheat bagel and banana from the Baristas in the library’s lobby. Ninety minutes later, the wierdness began with a text from the backup vanpool driver (our regular driver took the rest of the week off to close on her new house and start moving in). Receiving a text from him is not unusual, but one that asks me to call him at my first opportunity is. So I called him.
He needed to return to Leavenworth to deal with a family emergency and was trying to find a way to 1) get the van to me so the other two people in the vanpool had a ride home from work (I’m the second backup vanpool driver) and 2) get back to Leavenworth. I told him I’d call him back after I found my boss to ask if I could help him return to Leavenworth. My boss, being the awesome guy he is, had no problem with me helping out so I called Jim back and gave him the go ahead.
Another ninety minutes wound by, as Jim wrapped up a project at his work, and we were off on the return trip to Leavenworth. You couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day. A light north wind, crystal clear skies of a vivid blue, no haze or humidity (I could clearly see the horizons, meaning visibility exceeded ten miles or more). Jim elaborated on the situation at home (which I won’t go into here but rest assured it was not life threatening, just a logistics nightmare for him), when my phone rang with a number I didn’t recognize. I answered it tentatively and was relieved to hear my uncle’s voice. The weirdness wrench ratcheted up another spoke.
Ron and his wife Treva were traveling from Iowa to Kansas, about to pass through Kansas City. Ron was calling for some traffic avoidance tips and a flood update (because he knew I-29 was closed north of the metro area and didn’t know if any of the other area interstates were also affected). He thought about taking I-635 to avoid downtown, but for some reason I thought I-435 would be better. Not being a cyborg with a built-in GPS nor owning a smart enough phone to check while riding in a van, I soon remembered that I-35 doesn’t really connect with I-435 on the northeast side of Kansas City (i.e. the Liberty area) so I-635 was his best bet (with a short dogleg on I-29 to get from I-35 to I-635). Soon after we agreed on this route, my uncle’s cell phone lost service and we were disconnected. I didn’t attempt to call back, since there didn’t seem to be any point and I didn’t want to bore Jim with more inane family logistics.
I called Terry, who was asleep (nothing unusual about that) and asked if he wanted to pick me up this afternoon from the parking lot. He said no, groggily. I asked Terry to unlock the front door so I could retrieve the Firebird keys without digging through the bottom of my purse for my seldom used house key. Jim dropped me off and I soon followed in the Firebird. I jumped back in the van, after wishing Jim safe travels for all of his family, and headed back to Kansas City. My phone rang again on the way back but this time I did recognize the number … it was my mother. Weirdness strikes again.
I had just seen her the evening before. She went to Cushing after work on Tuesday to have blood drawn prior to her surgery scheduled for Thursday morning. She started feeling light-headed to the point of passing out and couldn’t drive herself home. I was still at work Tuesday afternoon when she called me to take her home. It takes me an hour to get home and when I did arrive, another roofing contractor was on-site measuring the house for a roofing estimate. I needed Terry to follow me out to Easton, so I had to wait until the roofer finished his measurements and queried us on our requirements.
So when I received the call from my mother late Wednesday morning while driving away from Leavenworth, I worried that I would now have a huge dilemma if I needed to help her again, since there is no other backup driver for the vanpool. Imagine my relief when my mom called me from her work to tell me the surgery was canceled because her doctor fell and hurt his back (no, I wasn’t happy the doctor hurt himself, just that my mom was all right). Surgery would be rescheduled in two to three weeks. This was a relief to me, since I had several projects I was juggling at work.
I got back to work and parked the van in my building’s parking garage, clear down on the third level (because it was the middle of the day by now and all the best parking spots were taken). I missed the health enhancement lunch seminar I had registered for because I didn’t get back until 12:30 p.m. Back at my desk, I continued working on my projects.
My cubemate of nearly fifteen years has a major project percolating this week, with a major software upgrade and rollout scheduled to start after work on Friday. Adding to her already high stress level, her sister called her Tuesday to tell her their 90+ year old mother’s kidneys were failing and that this ‘was the end.’ So Marge is hoping her mother lasts at least until next week so she can get this upgrade behind her. Marge’s backup plan for the upgrade? She asked me if I had an hour or so on Friday to go over her upgrade checklist in case she had to hop a plane to New York for a funeral. Sure, I said (wincing internally). Firm-wide software upgrades are my specialty.
The rest of the afternoon proceeded without further weirdness. I sent an e-mail to the other vanpool riders, telling them I would leave the Plaza at 4:00 pm and arrive at Hallmark headquarters by 4:15 pm. Just as I was cruising down Grand through Crown Center, my phone rings again. I saw it was my hubby calling me so I answered it. He’s calling to ask me when I will be home as the Bonneville is ready to be picked up. I explained that I still had to drop off one rider in Kansas City, Kansas, but hoped to be back in Lansing by 5:00 pm (when the repair shop closes). I told him I’d call him after dropping her off with an update on my time.
Dodging traffic on I-70 as best I could in the top-heavy sluggish van, I managed to make it to the Legends (via Parallel) by 4:45 pm. I called Terry and told him while I might make it to our house by 5:00 pm, he might want to call them and see if he could pay the balance over the phone and then we could just pickup the car after I finish driving the van back to Hallmark in Leavenworth. Terry said he’d call the repair shop. I called him again as I was passing Wallula church, the highest point on K-7 that overlooks Lansing and Leavenworth from the south. He was waiting out by the mailbox and the repair shop said they usually hang around until 5:15 pm or so.
I pulled into our court at 5:01 pm and got Terry in the van and introduced him to the other rider. I proceed to the repair shop (less than a mile north on Main Street aka K-7/US-73) and dropped Terry off. Then, finally, I could head to Hallmark and park the van. I said goodbye to Chuck and hopped in the Firebird to return home. Terry left the garage door open so I wouldn’t have to mess with the front door.
Since Wednesdays are band practice nights for WolfGuard, I volunteered to cook supper. We had a couple of minute steaks already breaded, so I quickly fried them and made some instant mashed potatoes. We had left-over gravy from two nights ago, so I heated that up as well. We ate a salad and then started in on the regular meal. Then Terry’s phone rang. The drummer was calling. Weirdness ratcheting higher yet again.
The drummer informed Terry he was probably moving to New Mexico in July to pursue a job. Not great news for the band, but not much you can do about it in this economy. Practice proceeded as best it could, since the lead guitarist was out-of-town for work this week and next. Songs sounded good, tight and relaxed. I always enjoy being serenaded with classic rock and metal.
Another roofer showed up just before band practice (second one today and probably the fifth this week) and the Rotts went nuts. Over their obnoxious barking, I gave the roofers permission to climb all over my house and measure. Terry spoke to them a couple of times, but wasn’t impressed with their professionalism (or lack there of). They later called back with their estimate, which was low but didn’t meet our requirements, and will probably not be considered in our final decision.
The band began arriving and I changed into work clothes to mow the back yard. For the last couple of weeks, a teenage girl has been mowing my front and side yards, leaving only the back yard for me to mess with. Since rain was forecast for the rest of the week, I needed to get the back mowed. Besides, I didn’t want to waste time this weekend mowing, when I could be enjoying Father’s Day with my hubby and my dad.
Band practice wound down during the nine o’clock hour. I read chapters from a couple of books and retired upstairs to sleep. Terry came up to cuddle for a few minutes and we discussed the roof, other remodel projects, including a call he had with a local interior designer (between roofers) and the band. Eventually, he went back downstairs and I drifted off to sleep, praying that Thursday dawned quietly. Less weirdness would be welcome.
Addendum (after lunch Thursday): I forgot another call I received last night. Receiving calls is a bit unusual for my cell phone (outside of the ones from Terry of course). I can go days without my dumbphone ringing. Oh, actually I forgot another call from the morning. My dad called me shortly after eight o’clock in response to a Facebook status update I posted Tuesday night. My status updates can be a bit obscure, but meaningful if you have a couple of key pieces of information.
After I finished mowing the back yard, I attempted to call my daughter, Rachelle, who has been in Boston all week. The UNT Collegium singers (and the Baroque Orchestra) performed at a music festival there on Tuesday and Wednesday was the sightseeing day. I wanted to get her impressions of Boston. She returned my call after I’d gone to bed, just after ten o’clock Central (or eleven o’clock in Boston). I could barely hear her over what sounded like a riot. Not being much of a sports fan, I had no idea the pandemonium that had descended upon Boston after the Bruins beat Vancouver 4-0 and won the Stanley cup. Hockey hooligans aside, Rachelle related the highlights of her walk along the Freedom Trail (all six miles of it), including the old North Church, Paul Revere’s house and the USS Constitution. She hoped to catch some of the old homes on Beacon Hill before flying home to Texas Thursday morning.
Now I’m not sure what to do today. All week long, the weatherman has been predicting doom and gloom for today, including sleet and snow. I had planned to start a fire in the fireplace and bake pies, bread and experiment with a chicken pot pie recipe I found last week.
But if the sunrise (click on photo to see the rest of the album) is any indication of what the rest of the day will be like, do I really want to be confined another weekend in my house? Perhaps the dogs would like to visit the dog park today? If nothing else, I’ll take Apollo on a longer walk this evening. Roxy and I walked before the sunrise, when it was still only 24 degrees.
For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given,
and the government shall be upon His shoulder;
and His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor,
The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. — Chorus, Handel’s Messiah
We are grateful for the Child born in a manger, come to save us all. We are grateful for our own children, born just two decades ago, now released upon the world, making it a better, brighter place. We are grateful for the bounties bestowed upon us this year. We mourn for the passing a grandmothers and cherish the memories their lives bequeathed to us.
Family Gathers in Winfield for Barbara Parsons' Funeral
Spring:
Bitter cold snowy weather in January like I haven’t seen in Kansas since the 70s. February/March attended the funeral of Barbara Parsons and visited with relatives in Winfield. April/May traveled to Nebraska and Iowa to attend a couple of science fiction conventions.
Terry, Rachelle and Dan waiting at KCI for her flight to Germany
Summer:
Rachelle flew back home in late May, but only stayed a few days before traveling overseas to study abroad in Europe, specifically Leipzig, Germany. She celebrated her twenty-first birthday half a world away from where she was born. During her five weeks in Europe, she visited many cities in Germany, Austria and also Prague in the Czech Republic. She returned to the States on the eve of the Fourth of July and remained with us for the rest of the summer.
While Rachelle deeply immersed herself in learning German, my grandmother began to suffer from rapidly advancing congestive heart failure. Just two days before my daughter’s birthday, and actually on my grandmother’s 88th birthday, she passed away.
Doris Andrea Visitation Memorial
I was glad to have visited her in her final days and to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her with my aunt and dad. The next week became a blur as plans for the memorial service were ironed out and I offered my house as a staging area for family gatherings. The first, and hopefully last time for many years to come, I actually took advantage of my bereavement leave employee benefit.
The following week, my husband finally attended his Social Security Disability hearing before an administrative law judge (via video conference since the judge lived in New Mexico). We had been waiting years for this hearing, having been denied twice by bureaucrats in the SSA. Just last week (middle of October), he received his first regular disability check, but the settlement check for previous years is still several weeks away. The hearing, while stressful for Terry, relieved some of our agony of waiting.
In August, we mailed, er flew, Rachelle back to Texas and life settled back into it’s routine. I’d joined a vanpool mid-Summer so I wasn’t putting any miles on any of my vehicles. We received the welcome news that Terry’s appeal of denial of SSD benefits was awarded by the judge.
Autumn:
Meade ETX-90
Fantastic birthday present from my father – an amazing telescope with a plethora of accessories, which I’ve been exploring and learning how to use.
We traveled to North Texas last week for Thanksgiving, leaving the dogs behind boarded at a local Leavenworth kennel and doggie day care facility. We enjoyed the balmy weather and the kids.
In mid December, we will return to Texas, taking my dad with us, to attend my son’s graduation from SMU’s Guildhall, on Saturday, December 18, 2010. The best news of the year came in mid November when Derek informed us he had been hired by Halliburton for a very nice salary (close to six figures). If you’d like to send a card to Derek congratulating him, please send me an e-mail (jon@mossfam.net) and I’ll send you his mailing address, as I know most of you won’t be able to attend the graduation ceremonies.
Nic, Rachelle, Derek and Royna
We learned this week that Rachelle earned a retro-active scholarship for this school year (2010/2011) which allows her to attend UNT at the in-school tuition rate. She’s being reimbursed for the out-of-state tuition she paid in August.
As with most years, 2010 had it’s ups and downs, and it’s sideways diversions, but we survived, we thrived, we lived and we loved. And with God’s Grace, we will see many more to come.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Jon and Terry Moss
And the angel said unto them,
Fear not; for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy,
which shall be to all people; for unto you is born this day in the City of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. — Recitative (Soprano), Handel’s Messiah
A hard copy of the above will be included with our annual Christmas card mailing to family and friends.
And if you’ve made it this far down on this post, why not take a couple more seconds (or minutes) to vote on my unHoliday decorations poll? 🙂
Yep, you guessed it, Christmas. Which means less than a month until Thanksgiving, the weekend when I traditionally attempt to compose my yearly family re-cap letter to insert into the family Christmas card mailing. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve actually mailed a Moss Family Christmas Letter for several years now. I tend to avoid whining about all the negative depressing events in my life (of which 2008 and 2009 where overflowing with) and highlight those items that inspire and lighten.
But 2010 started off well, since both my kids, Rachelle and Derek (and his wife Royna) were visiting us over their holiday break from college. While I didn’t see much of Derek and Royna (who spent most of their time with their friends), it was good to have them home again since moving to Texas in August 2009.
The rest of January and most of February were quiet but very cold – and I mean the coldest I could remember having lived in this area all my life (except for twelve years in Wichita which I prefer to just forget most of the time). We received shocking and sad news the last week in February, when I learned my aunt’s mother died very unexpectedly from a fall. This prompted the first of two trips this year to Winfield, Kansas.
March events escape me … didn’t come in or leave like a lion for me at least. Oh, but now it’s coming back to me. We had a deja vu scare with my paternal grandmother, who fell while out eating dinner with my uncle in Raymore. I learned the news from my dad as I arrived home from work, which prompted me to jump back in my car and drive back to where I had just been (or nearly so) to a hospital emergency room just off US-71 southeast of the Plaza. To our surprise (my dad, my uncle and myself), the hospital released her on her own recognizance to return to her apartment in Raymore. If you’d seen her injuries, you would have thought they’d have kept her for observation overnight.
April and May proved the highlight of my year because of a rare opportunity to meet two of my favorite authors at science fiction conventions within driving distance of Kansas City. The first occurred in Lincoln, Nebraska, the home town of Brandon Sanderson, an author who will probably make the NY Times best sellers list, again, next week with the release of The Towers of Midnight, the next to last volume in the Wheel of Time series started by Robert Jordon back in the 80s. Since the Lincoln science fiction convention was fairly small, access to Brandon in most of the panels and readings was nearly one-on-one. Brandon graciously signed my hardcover edition of his first published novel (and a first edition) Elantris, which surprised him as it’s out-of-print and hard to find. I now have everything published by Brandon in first edition and signed (with the exception of his young adult series).
As an anniversary present, Terry and I found and purchased a second vehicle to supplement our one remaining vehicle, which had not fared well during the extreme winter weather conditions earlier in the year. When the kids left for Texas in August 2009, Rachelle took my Oldsmobile Aurora and Derek took his Chevy S10, leaving Terry and I just the Pontiac Firebird between us. Carpooling helped to alleviate Terry’s stranding at home without a vehicle to only half a week, but the winter weather kept us grounded more than anything. I’m eternally grateful to my carpool buddy, who owned a four wheel drive pickup truck for getting us to and from Kansas City last winter. So, as May approached, Terry and I started looking at used vehicles, specifically older Cadillacs. We knew we needed comfortable seating for the 8-10 hour drives (one-way) to Texas in our future. We had almost decided on one from a local Leavenworth dealer, when we responded to an individual’s ad for a Pontiac Bonneville. We drove down to Olathe to test drive it and fell in love with the very well maintained (over-maintained with an extended warranty and some extras features). I managed to get a check cut from my credit union before they closed on Friday evening and drove the vehicle home for our 24th wedding anniversary.
In mid-May, we drove to Des Moines for a pirate themed science fiction convention featuring as the guest artist of honor Don Maitz, and his wife and guest author, Janny Wurts. I spent a pleasant couple of hours talking with Janny on Saturday afternoon between panels. Again, since she was not the ‘main attraction’ her panels and readings were sparsely attended and nearly one-on-one.
Rachelle flew back home in late May, but only stayed a few days before traveling overseas to study abroad in Europe, specifically Leipzig, Germany. She celebrated her twenty-first birthday half a world away from where she was born. During her five weeks in Europe, she visited many cities in Germany, Austria and also Prague in the Czech Republic. She returned to the States on the eve of the Fourth of July and remained with us for the rest of the summer.
While Rachelle deeply immersed herself in learning German, my grandmother began to suffer from rapidly advancing congestive heart failure. Just two days before my daughter’s birthday, and actually on my grandmother’s 88th birthday, she passed away. I was glad to have visited her in her final days and to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her with my aunt and dad. The next week became a blur as plans for the memorial service were ironed out and I offered my house as a staging area for family gatherings. The first, and hopefully last time for many years to come, I actually took advantage of my bereavement leave employee benefit.
The following week, my husband finally attended his Social Security Disability hearing before an administrative law judge (via video conference since the judge lived in New Mexico). We had been waiting years for this hearing, having been denied twice by bureaucrats in the SSA. Just last week (middle of October), he received his first regular disability check, but the settlement check for previous years is still several weeks away. The hearing, while stressful for Terry, relieved some of our agony of waiting.
In August, we mailed, er flew, Rachelle back to Texas and life settled back into it’s routine. I’d joined a vanpool mid-Summer so I wasn’t putting any miles on any of my vehicles. We received the welcome news that Terry’s appeal of denial of SSD benefits was awarded by the judge. September flew by, mostly from some stress caused by my daughter’s student loans, which have finally, as of Monday this week, been fully resolved, at least until next August.
October proved to be the complete opposite of September, starting with good news on my daughter’s student loans and a fantastic birthday present from my father – an amazing telescope with a plethora of accessories, which I’ve been exploring and learning how to use for most of this month.
The damper to our activities for most of this year has been an unfortunate accident incurred by Terry in the spring. While negotiating the stairs in our house, he missed the last step and injured his back. For the last several months, he’s been almost completely bedridden or recliner-ridden from pain and now muscle fatigue and atrophy. Thankfully, the back injury has finally healed itself and we are slowly exercising the legs and other extremities with short jaunts to the dog park, because both dogs also need the exercise.
The next two months are busy, of course, as most families get this time of year. We’ll travel to Texas for Thanksgiving, leaving the dogs behind boarded at a local Leavenworth kennel and doggie day care facility. In mid December, we will return to Texas, with my dad in tow, to attend my son’s graduation from SMU’s Guildhall. And we’ll wrap up the year with Rachelle returning, as an early Christmas gift via her adopted Greek family, the Kelloffs, on their return trip from Houston, Texas to Lansing, Kansas on the 23rd of December.
There, I’ve done it, my first draft of the 2010 edition of the Moss Family Christmas Letter. I’ll expand upon this throughout the month, and include select photos from the year to add the human touch and connection for the final printed color edition.
Last year, a few days after my birthday, I scrapped my MySpace blog, mostly due to interface changes, and ventured here to WordPress with a backup blog at Blogger. My original intention was to journal my astronomical adventures here and do some inspirational topics on the backup site. While I didn’t blog daily, I did manage to craft over two hundred blog entries here (this being my 225th).
