Recovery from Osteomyelitis is no picnic. I find out there is no such thing as a cure. Duckie will always be considered infected, to some unknown degree. First, I find that out, then I find out other things. We’re in and out of stories, and around the bush and back. I’m happy I have a sense of humor and some training in problem solving: Asking 5 Whys, Root Cause Analysis, Pareto Charting, Process Mapping.
A quick aside: Duckie married a mildly mentally impaired man, Mr. Incredible. They live with us until the two of them get annoyed with Loved One and me. They stay with Mr. Incredible’s parents until the same happens over there. Duckie stays with me while she recuperates. Mr. Incredible visits. He needs predictability. Nothing is predictable here.
I need a little quiet time. I grew up with three of these sister. Two more; plus three brothers. No wonder Grandpa dubbed us the Magpies. Non-stop talking, and tons of laughing. In there somewhere, I’m learning a lot about myself. My mind needs some time to wander. A little time to put together sentences that become paragraphs helps the pictures come into focus.
Most of my family lives in Michigan. Three’s just me and Frank that live in another state. (Frankie, if your read my Once A Little Girl Blog. Yes, Frankie is one of the Little Kids, the one I put the diaper on. Frankie or Frank-the-Prank, or Frankfurter, or Frank by any other name; He is my Pal.) It’s probably no accident that the two of us live the furthest from our origin. We are the most independent, the most rebellious, the most adventurous. Anyways, that’s how I choose to see it.
I had a bright idea: take Amtrak to the small town near Mom’s. I can rest, write, read. The time is a about the same, 5-6 hours, depending on whether we get waylaid by a freight train, but I’ll arrive at just about the same cost, and no travel fatigue. That is, if I don’t count getting to the train station.
First, I get to attend Duckie teaching acrylic painting to the general public.
“I hate you for talking me into doing this!”
“I love painting. Did I spell anything wrong in my instruction?”
“I can’t wait.”
“I hate you.”
Duckie is wonderful. She takes over the crowd with her smile and her detailed instructions. From the small piece I get to see. I had to leave for the train 15 minutes in. I could have left at 2:08 on Metra, got to the station at 3:30 and ran for the 4:00.
Another gauntlet picked up by The Black Tortoise: NaBloPoMo (National Blog Post Month) Every work day of June I will be posting something here or on Once A Little Girl. I will abstain from posting on Saturday and Sunday. Those are my days of ReWoMeN (ReconnectWorshipMeditateNap.)
I plan short, to the point posts, which are a little low on pictures. Part of the time I’ll be traveling with three sister and a mom. Sorry in advance if some of my posts are just too darned personal. On the other hand, some of you may like a little insight into the personal side of The Black Tortoise.
So, with that as a starter, here’s a bit about my upcoming trip.