Freelancing, gardening, heart healthy cooking, and random thoughts. All enjoyed while drinking lots of coffee. —Laura McGowan
Thursday, May 24, 2018
Wednesday, April 04, 2018
Tuesday, April 03, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Driving Dangerous
I was first rear-ended when I was 16. I was driving my old VW Bug in the grocery store parking lot when the girl behind me, also 16, ran into me. A 1969 Bug has a very simple metal bumper and the impact shmooshed it pretty good. I couldn't open the back to check the engine oil. My dad hooked a chain onto the bug and onto his Ford Econoline van. He only had to drive the van a few inches to pull the bumper away from trunk.
Fast forward 25 years and I am driving home from my job at Bradley University in a fall dusk. One of those huge lurking pickups is sitting behind me at the stoplight. The dude behind the wheel lets his foot slide off of the brake pedal and the truck lurches forward, striking the back of my VW Golf.
I called the police and, as luck would have it, the truck driver was cited for driving without insurance. Not a good sign.
The next morning I woke up with my neck and shoulders in extreme pain. I went to an orthopedic doctor and he diagnosed me with a herniated disk and other cervical spine issues. Eventually the pain in my neck and left arm got so bad that I sought a surgical remedy at Rush Hospital in Chicago. The recovery process was horrible, and I ended up having to quit my job at Bradley. Stupidly, I was in such pain that I didn't have the presence of mind to claim disability (my years of staring at a computer screen certainly contributed to my problems).
Last Wednesday Andy was rear-ended in our brand new Subaru Outback. It has 5,000 miles on the odometer. My question is whether a body shop is equipped to evaluate the AWD system and the rear-view camera. Not sure.
This accident shook Andy up pretty bad. He was disoriented, confused, and experienced some amnesia of recent events.
Fast forward 25 years and I am driving home from my job at Bradley University in a fall dusk. One of those huge lurking pickups is sitting behind me at the stoplight. The dude behind the wheel lets his foot slide off of the brake pedal and the truck lurches forward, striking the back of my VW Golf.
I called the police and, as luck would have it, the truck driver was cited for driving without insurance. Not a good sign.
The next morning I woke up with my neck and shoulders in extreme pain. I went to an orthopedic doctor and he diagnosed me with a herniated disk and other cervical spine issues. Eventually the pain in my neck and left arm got so bad that I sought a surgical remedy at Rush Hospital in Chicago. The recovery process was horrible, and I ended up having to quit my job at Bradley. Stupidly, I was in such pain that I didn't have the presence of mind to claim disability (my years of staring at a computer screen certainly contributed to my problems).
Last Wednesday Andy was rear-ended in our brand new Subaru Outback. It has 5,000 miles on the odometer. My question is whether a body shop is equipped to evaluate the AWD system and the rear-view camera. Not sure.
This accident shook Andy up pretty bad. He was disoriented, confused, and experienced some amnesia of recent events.
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Prayer Booth on the Miracle Highway
I grew up on the outskirts of a small farming community in central Illinois. The soil was about the most fecund that you could ever imagine. I would bet it was about the best in the world. Long ago, the glaciers moved into Illinois and brought with them and then deposited rich loam that could grow about anything you wished to plant.
Our yard had this wonderful soil, plus a deep well of mineral water. Dad would tap into this well with an old gas engine to water our yard and garden. We had beautiful flowers, deeply colored green beans, fresh potatoes, full stalks of corn, rhubarb, and many other fruits and vegetables.
But in my youth, I didn't always appreciate the garden. To me it meant work (weeding and harvesting), which didn't seem like fun. I was fascinated, however, by the blacktop that ran past our house. If you look it up on Google Maps today, it is called "Gilmore Road." I never heard that name when I lived there.
When I was a teen I had a Newfoundland mix dog and a spunky pony. We would often head out together down this rural blacktop. Sometimes we would meet neighbors who lived along this road in more dire circumstances than I lived in. I remember meeting a young boy about my age who also had a pony. We raced them down the road. A few months later I learned that this young man was driving a car along a rural road and collided with a farm implement. He was decapitated.
All of these memories seem to collide in my dreams even to this day.
I dream about riding a horse down this road and coming upon something miraculous.
In one dream there is a structure I call a "prayer booth."
It was a place you could enter and feel something magical. The boy with the pony was there. My Dad watering the garden with well water was there. The beautiful beloved dogs were there.
You could pray there and feel very special and happy. But then you had to exit the prayer booth. And walk home.
Our yard had this wonderful soil, plus a deep well of mineral water. Dad would tap into this well with an old gas engine to water our yard and garden. We had beautiful flowers, deeply colored green beans, fresh potatoes, full stalks of corn, rhubarb, and many other fruits and vegetables.
But in my youth, I didn't always appreciate the garden. To me it meant work (weeding and harvesting), which didn't seem like fun. I was fascinated, however, by the blacktop that ran past our house. If you look it up on Google Maps today, it is called "Gilmore Road." I never heard that name when I lived there.
When I was a teen I had a Newfoundland mix dog and a spunky pony. We would often head out together down this rural blacktop. Sometimes we would meet neighbors who lived along this road in more dire circumstances than I lived in. I remember meeting a young boy about my age who also had a pony. We raced them down the road. A few months later I learned that this young man was driving a car along a rural road and collided with a farm implement. He was decapitated.
All of these memories seem to collide in my dreams even to this day.
I dream about riding a horse down this road and coming upon something miraculous.
In one dream there is a structure I call a "prayer booth."
It was a place you could enter and feel something magical. The boy with the pony was there. My Dad watering the garden with well water was there. The beautiful beloved dogs were there.
You could pray there and feel very special and happy. But then you had to exit the prayer booth. And walk home.
Monday, March 19, 2018
Blog test--Arlo showing in Topeka
OK, updating the blog so you can all "subscribe." This is one of my favorite photos of Arlo. Paul Catterson's assistant, Michelle, showed him beautifully in Topeka last August. She seemed to give him so much love. He is a lean youth, but showing potential.
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