First What We Know Won't Work

Ahhh, insurance companies! 

When we know what doesn't work, never did work, but have to try anyway, there's still the sequential hoops one MUST step through! It's supposed to save them money, I guess. Maybe it does if the patient dies before the final, known workable, expensive treatment gets on the schedule. Because that last thing is the thing that is proven to work. 

It's not just me, either. Steve's insurance company was that way over the years with his back. A friend's insurance company, different kind of problem, ditto. Nobody cares about how much pain one is in, how one's health otherwise suffers. You're still required to used all those non-remedies, visit all those other doctors who know as well as you do that this isn't going to work this time either. Anybody ever wonder why they put you through all that crap that doesn't work and take the money for it? 

Oh yeah... silly question. Have I gotten to the part about being bitchy yet?

You know I've been complaining.... uh, commenting...  on my "bad shoulders".  I finally got x-rays taken of them this week. I had a chance to discuss the issues I've been having with the "lesser staff", though only in terms of lesser power to work on the actual remedies. I'm pretty sure they understand all the issues and their treatments, even if they're not the top authority, say, for performing surgery. They're also not lesser in terms of being caring humans. And especially not lesser in terms of listening.

I'd heard that x-rays don't necessarily diagnose rotator cuff damage, being tissue, not bone, and a proper diagnosis requires the proper machines. However, if they mean MRI instead of CAT Scan I'm already SOL anyway. I tell everybody about the pacemaker, just in case. I have known about my rotator cuff tears for a couple decades, anyway.  That was no longer the question. Recently, in addition to the pain when I (try to) raise my arms, there is the additional joy of having my shoilders dislocate themselves. The contortions I need to go through to get them back where they belong are.... interesting. Thank goodness nobody is secretly filming them! It wakes me out of the sound sleep I fought for an hour to get into, a process which depends on my bracing one arm just so against the other elbow so the pain lessens enough to finally drop off. When it doesn't, I'm out back in my recliner because mostly the arm's gravity pulls the shoulder back into place if I don't move. 

Mostly.

I do my best to avoid causing them. Because that surely works, uh huh, yes sirree! I'll never forgive the sadist who designed kitchens to have microwaves over the stove! The counter is just fine!!!

Just over a week ago when I was exchanging a good-bye hug, the other person commented that she felt my shoulder pop back into place. I'd suspected, but this was confirmation. I made my postponed appointment.

 Friday, X-rays it was. Three different angles for each shoulder. Fortunately, none required me to lift my arms. Good people in that department! One in each set did require me to twist my hand at the wrist. Interesting! I can't feel any difference in either shoulder when I do that on my own. Although, in the course of a day I'm probably doing that a lot and just don't notice new pain levels. But who am I to argue? It wasn't any worse at the moment at least.

The Doc put the digital films up on his office computer. He wasn't commenting as he went through them, but I peeked to see what they looked like. What I saw were huge gaps between the balls and the sockets. My arms had been hanging down, so naturally the "dead air" was mostly at the tops.

The verdict was instant: "'severe arthritis" in both shoulders. Like I couldn't have told them that! I went through it with my knees for over a decade before getting them replaced. The pain was similar in intensity and patterns. It never really went away from lack of joint use, but it sure did discourage using them whenever possible. I'm one of those people who never have gotten the concept of pain being good for the soul, or some such claptrap. What it's good for is bitchiness, plus loss of coordination, muscle strength, balance, and stamina over the years. One at least tries to avoid the pain.

It was also great for figuring what worked and what didn't to ease the pain, regardless of what the docs did or warned against. Tylenol? Might as well have been swallowing air. This is bone-on-bone, not a childhood fever. Aspirin? Same. Clinoril? Same lack of effect but also caused severe depression. Twenty-four hours after that last pill I was bouncing off the ceiling in reaction for a few hours, until my mood regulated again.

The docs were united in advising me not to use ibuprofin. Hurts the stomach, they say. Mine is cast iron. Hurts the kidneys, they say. My last doc warned about that, noted I'd dropped a bit in kidney function, and then summed it up with I was right on track for my age. So yeah, I do take that. Again. 

I'd stopped after my knee surgery mended. Didn't need it. I started again when the shoulders started acting up. I'm not up to maximum dose yet but pushing it. 

What I did find that really worked on the pain was a narcotic. I'd had darvon, vicoden, and others and  meh! Dentists used to like prescribing codeine after a procedure when walking out of their office was all that was ever needed. I had weird reactions, so list it as an allergy. Percoset filled in for a bit when I had to stop ibuprofin before knee surgery so I could tolerate the needed PT to strengthen the needed muscles. It let me tolerate the severe pain post surgery when doing that PT. And then the pain left. Titanium knees do not ache. (Kneeling on them with no kneecap is a different story.) The ibuprofin still sat there with some pills in it, but they weren't needed. I weaned myself down from perc as the knees recovered. It didn't appeal with any kind of a high, and in fact when not actually needed it makes me itchy. Between that and needing to legally drive, who needs the stuff? OK, I'll agree that maybe it's just me who doesn't... until I really need it. It always involves a discussion with the docs because it's related to codeine.

I got a kidney stone and discovered that fentanyl didn't touch the pain - in the hospital of course. They added something else  - toradol - and the combo worked well enough. Lithotripsy did the rest. I don't knee-jerk fear fentanyl but it better be from the hospital supply.

I had major abdominal surgery and found the drug that actually works: Dilaudid. Insurance coverage was a big issue back then and I got released from the hospital ASAP after the surgery. My knees hadn't been fixed yet at that time, but I had to walk frequently after surgery. It was great! No pain! The nurses tried to tell me to slow down for my mandatory walks, but I explained to them I hadn't been able to do that for years! This was great! I talked the doc into releasing me early, and with 10 tablets of dilaudid. It was accompanied by a stern warning that not a single more pill would be forthcoming. I stretched those out, taking halves, quarters, increasing intervals. I stayed pain free nearly two weeks until the day after that last bit was gone. When I woke to head to the bathroom, OMG the first couple steps killed my knees! I had forgotten what my knees had felt like! 

Nobody has offered me any since, nor have I asked. It's ibuprofin again. It does less and less all the time. I know the PT for shoulders is even worse than for knees. I also know it's the next thing on my "remedies" list. This doc offered to put me on steroid shots. They didn't work longer than the time it took to walk out of the doctor's  office with my knees and the novocaine in the shot wore off. You know, the kind they add to the steroid shot to keep you from screaming when they jab it into the tenderest spot in the joint. Then they put you on a fake bicycle to pedal so... whatever that's supposed to do for bad knees. It never did.

I asked this doc since it hadn't worked with my knees years ago, why were we expecting that it would with my shoulders now, which are supposed to hurt even more than knees in PT? So he offered me the option of taking steroid pills instead. I agreed. But that is when he informed me what we already know, that the hoops have to all be jumped through in order, just to prove what doesn't work.  And since I'm getting steroid pills, I have to stop the ibuprofin, since the combo is like an overdose, and the effect isn't in pain management being "too good."

After that doesn't work, there'll be the next thing, and the next...... and always with the PT.

The next weeks are going to be ... interesting.

Bitchy!!! 

At least he suggested I might take up the idea of small doses of dilaudid with a pain specialist. These days full of opioid paranoia, I'm sure that will work. Yep, easy peasy, no fuss, no bother, full trust....

Like I said, bitchy!!!!!

I'll have to be especially nice to Steve. I still need him to help me get dressed in the mornings. I tend to get trapped in bra straps or sleeves, nearly every day. Winter is worse with long sleeves and coats added. Things just don't move the ways they should any more. He's a real sweetie about it. He even offers to help me if I need any held getting the clothes off again later....

What a sweetheart! What a guy!

After A Long Year Of Hard Work…

I have a raised  circular garden in our east yard. When we moved in, it had produced a single flower and seventy bazillion weeds. Stinky weeds, even to my inept nose, because they were spearmint. I find that odor nauseating. Those were the first thing dug out, with most of the work being done by my youngest son, Paul. Large bagfuls of black dirt were added to encourage optimism for the project ahead.

Me? I "just" do the deciding, the planning, the buying, the arranging, the watering, the fretting... and finally, the shooting, camera style of course. I don't need my Concealed Carry Permit for that kind of shooting, and for that matter, don't have a gun to go with it even if that AZ permit meant anything except a piece of interesting plastic in MN. Or maybe they don't find it that interesting here anyway.

So far this year there were some tiny start and lots of disappointments in that bed. Scillas had an encouraging start, and as soon as they were ready to pop out seeds back in Paul's yard, he brought a new bunch of them over to - with luck - fill a large central gap in emergent plants in the center of the bed. We'll know next year.

Following that, a couple tulips pushed out warped and quickly munched leaves. No blooms. There went $$$$$. Crocus and daffodils didn't even bother to go that far. Some critters somewhere spent a well fed winter. Bearded iris in two of the 7 planted varieties bloomed, one a soft blue, the other deep purple, almost black. Hooray! I hope for better showing of colors next year, including from seeds chilling in pots in the fridge currently. (Yes, they're sealed in bags. Nothing will be dropping into the yogurt. Promise! Even when I do the needed periodic airing out.)

Even before the iris were done, the daylilies started pushing up bud stalks. First, everything presented small blooms, yellow or gold. Ho hum, borrrrrring! But more stalks were pushing up and while about half were green where the growing blossoms were tucked inside, close to another half were getting darker and darker.

Horray! No more just-two-colors garden! I'm expecting reds, purples, and some so dark they're named Root Beer! There should be a bunch of bi-colors as well, lots of various pinks, and some year I still want to find out if those "dead" ones, which finally show leaves, will ever actually bloom as advertised, because what was advertised was blue! 

First the yellows and golds, hard to distinguish. It is possible when they are  side by side, but otherwise  they look the same.

Next came an odd, mottled pink with yellow (right side). Then a delightfully bright but soft pink. One blossom is trying to hide some very dark buds coming up on the other side, while a day-old spent blossom is in turn trying to hide it.

The first of those dark buds to open belongs to Root Beer, so far the darkest of my daylilies, and the darkest expected. Surprises can happen, of course, I do expect two purples.

The smallest of these has opened and is called Grapette. The larger should be opening soon, but so far I only have a photo of one from its former location. So I'm going to cheat a little and put it in here anyway.

It's much darker and taller, but still more purple and less brown than Root Beer. I particularly love its name: Nosferatu. I bought 5 a couple years ago, planted them next to the former house for easy location and removal, and am waiting on results... along with several other varieties yet to bloom.

Meanwhile, this greets me in the mornings before the sun hits it, as well any anybody looking in from the street or passing on the path behind it which leads to the storm shelter/ rec center / mail room.

Lots of buds yet to open. Plus I haven't dressed yet to head out and remove yesterday's spent blossoms. To nourish the garden they get dropped onto the ground they came from.

 

.

 

 

Heartbroken: The Consequences of Stupidity

 I must have been overwhelmed when packing up the house for our multi-state move. Or  maybe I just mis-read the information on the storage of our PODS to include some kind of climate control while sitting for months in Phoenix. Possibly both, overlaid with personal stupidity.

The project started much earlier, when my laptop's photo library was getting way overloaded, and my back-up system wasn't working. I like to shoot shoot shoot and look later, something formerly not economically feasible before I went digital. A single roll of pictures would cost over $10 before I saw anything, and I can shoot multiples of that in a single outing, repeat it the following day and the next, and now not spend a penny unless I want an actual hard copy of something. I can email favorite files to friends. I even figured out how to post itty bitty ones here.

My solution was to pull out the thumbnails of each topic of files onto my desktop, stacked and overlapped like crazy, deleting each one from the photos library as I went. then I'd insert a thumb drive, move each file over, save them there while deleting them from the desktop as well - yep, very labor intensive - and tape a label on the thumb drive to identify the contents. Label might include "videos", "people", one of several different state names where I shot a lot, and above all, the name of my favorite wildlife center which incidentally has an annual photo contest.

I enter that contest nearly every year. Occasionally I place, getting a "second" a couple times. Amazing considering my modest equipment and all the photographers I see along the roads with heavy duty tripods supporting 20 inch lenses. Not that I measure them, that's just an estimate. I'm sure some are longer. Once I was invited to look though one and a tiny black speck off in the distance turned into a black ibis way off its usual migration path. That kind of straying happens a lot. I'm lucky if I can get an ordinary red-winged blackbird next to the road clinging to a cattail.

I got this lucky a couple weeks ago. This fellow was puffing his distinctive wings out every time he trilled his challenge to any nearby males: this was his territory and they could go take a hike - or something even ruder in blackbird-speak. It won't be entered in the contest because the sun was at the wrong angle and the eyes don't show well. Black is tricky that way. I had to fiddle with light levels to overexpose everything just to get a hint of one eye plus an assumption of his bill. Still, it's my best of one of these guys in the years I've been there. The yellow-headed ones are much simpler to shoot, if rarer in fact.

Back to the stupidity. I filled about a dozen thumb drives with what became the only files of a whole bunch of photos. I ignored the bag they were in when I unpacked it, thinking they were as they'd been made, and set it on a shelf in my room. But this year's photos contest is under way, and I was looking through older photos. Or at least looking for them. I'm supposed to have two drives with that name on them, but found one. There was also one with people photos separated out, many from either new babies or backyard bonfires. One held videos, another National Park shots.... you get the idea. 

I'd plug one in to the slot to open it, and nothing came up on my desktop to tell me there was something, anything, in the slot, much less a named thumb drive. Try another. Same. When I finally got to the drive with the pictures I wanted to look for a contest photo from, I finally got a list of file numbers, the kind that all end in jpg. I opened the first, and... 2/3 of it was a grey block. A whole bunch had varying levels of the same, others had grey or multicolor lines running horizontally through it, just enough visible to see what I had lost. Over and over. Again and again. I tried scrolling way down into the files and picked one at random. Same results.

Somehow labels have disappeared of some of the drives, or - knock on wood - when I stocked up before we moved on inexpensive blank thumb drives to spend more weeks  filling, they needed a second bag which might have been stored in another location, like a camera case which made the trip in the car... in March... and didn't get fried. I have no idea where such might be, of course. But I'm hoping it's a wobbly memory and not just a fervent wish.

Meanwhile, I went back into what I did still have on my laptop. I found a great heron photo, taken from the right location, meaning one of the three properties controlled by the refuge folks. That photo reminded me of a heron video I had seen recently, though from the wrong location to enter the contest. It was from 2 years ago when I took the camera along while Steve went fishing. One heron stayed close since we were the only ones there, were staying quiet, and nobody had launched a boat yet that morning.

I'd taken several stills, like the one above (with its tongue stuck out if you look close) and then since it was earnestly watching the water directly under it and stalking, I turned on video and got it catching - and swallowing - a newly caught fish. I love that video, especially with the fish tail still wiggling out my side of the bill until the heron took a second gulp to send it down the hatch. I'd seen that recently, because I'd shown it to somebody else who thought it was disgusting! 

SAY WHAT? WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU ?!?

I couldn't find it. I checked around, and other still shots from that exact time are there. Same location, same heron which never came back on any of our visits. I looked for other keepers, contest entries that I didn't want to lose, and hadn't copied elsewhere. Those weren't even on my laptop, and I never erased those even when transferring a copy.

Now I have only memories of those photos, like two different babies gnawing on the visor of whichever ball cap Steve had worn and loaned to the occasion for the day. Elk lying down at the entrance station to RMNP, antlers in velvet, backlit by the rising sun, possible only because of covid and we two geezers had qualified for our first 2 shots and felt able to travel. Nobody minded the entrances, we could park on the road and capture the photos with nobody waiting and honking for us to move. Another elk walked straight in front of the car while we were stopped. I shot it too, even though the windshield turned it slightly green.

It goes on and on and on. I haven't the heart - yet - to try every one of the drives. I've been looking through what I actually still do have, since old photos still qualify if taken at the right location. The good ones still are in my memory... only. I got to the place where I couldn't bear to hunt any more. There are a few more days to get my act together and submit what I can.

What   do you do with a thumb drive which won't even say "I exist"?

Besides mourn?

Addendum: Weather Update

Those spectacular growing columns of clouds yesterday turned into flooding and small twisters, mostly down around the extended Twin City metro area. Morning news reports are just coming in. 

Once again we lucked out. For some reason, systems split  west of here, with the worst going around us instead of through us. Maybe it's the concentration of lakes in the area. We're fine, but flooding and wind damage hit other places. Even as I update, we're getting more rain but only the southern tip of a system this time. On the plus side, it's supposed to settle down and dry out this week. Time to get some yard work done... if I can get out before it heats up too much. Except those cooler morning hours are when my job hours tend to be.

Que sera sera. 

Weather

Growing up in Minnesota, with my parents, weather was what you talked about when you had nothing else in particular to say to somebody. Or maybe just nothing polite. One ALWAYS had to be polite, or there were consequences, and depending on the violation it either came later in private, or immediately in public. In public meant you'd just been terribly naughty and your parents had to show the people witnessing your misbehavior that they were trying to raise you better than that. I translate that into they're worried more about their own embarrassment than mine.

There was always something to say. Hot (or cold) enough for ya? How much rain did you get yesterday? Do you think we'll get some rain? Did you hear about that storm/twister/wind over at _________? Did you get your hay in before it hit? Have you gotten into the fields yet? How's the creek running over at your place? Need some help from our crew with the chain saw? shovels? rakes? Nasty sunburn there.

One way or another it was all about the weather. It helped that we were in the country, but even for city folk, your weather is your life. What crops grew this season? How much will they cost? How much extra work will it cause me? How much dust is getting in the house? Pollen allergies bad this year? How should I dress? How can I play? How safe are my roads? Can I get wherever there is on time? Will my house be there when I get back? What's amazing when I look up? Does your date include smooching to a beautiful sunset,  or a clear view of the moon reflecting in a long white ribbon on a windless lake? Even for my parents, married 67 years, weather was a significant blessing on their wedding and anniversaries, Over all those years, it rained only 4 of the years their special date came around.

I could talk about Steve's 82nd birthday party yesterday. It would be about the weather, since all the family there were predictably themselves, and everybody got along... (except for one person, and if called on for a vote, those who knew the back story took an expected side. Old news/no news.) It was held outdoors, late afternoon, with a local town park reserved for the day. The number of people invited would never fit in the house. Children were invited, and those ranged from almost two to almost teens, so the large grassy space for running around and the double playground was exactly what was needed, one part toddler sized, the other perfect even for the twenty-somethings who were shepherding the younger ones around. And keeping them out of the temptation of the pond. Maybe even guiding them into the porta-potty, or making sure trash went into the bins, and "assisting" at the water fountains so those who wanted to get wet could do so in the manner they pleased and their parents approved of.

Because the weather was hot. And sticky.  We knew it was likely to be rainy or even stormy in advance, because it's been a wet and stormy June. The the precise forecasts as each day came closer continued to insist on storms. They just didn't all agree on where or when, even while getting daily more insistent about the what. So it turned out to be good planning to pick a location not just with a bunch of picnic tables, but having them tucked nicely under a big roof, no side walls to prevent what turned out to be a fairly steady breeze from shoving its way through and cooling us all down while keeping skeeters away.

We assured our invited guests of the amenities. Just in case, one guest brought a portable charcoal grill with a cover for cooking the burgers, in case it had to be brought inside. The big public one was on a post in concrete out in the open. Rain would not be conducive to having yummy burgers without another option.

Since my garden rain gauge Frog arrived and got stuck into the ground, I've been keeping track of rainfall, in addition to rain locations around the state, along with the abundance of twister warnings sprinkled through the broader area, or straight line winds over 100 mph doing their own amount of damage very near to close family. I've found rain amounts of 3 inches, 4 inches, half an inch, one inch, three inches, half an inch, a quarter inch (gross underachiever!!), and the ever-popular 3 inches again. It did storm last night, but not till everybody was safe in their homes again, no matter from how far away they came for the party. 

It was potluck, plus burgers and buns provided. Some brought presents as well, including the birthday cake with, of course, the theme of a fisherman in a boat out on a lake.

Other people took pictures. Yes, I took my camera, but was too tired from all the prep including loading and unloading the car, to even hunt for the bag it arrived at the party in, until the car was being loaded again at the end. Uhhhhh... Oops! Too late! Food left over did manage to get home in condition safe to eat - we'd been bagging cubes from the ice maker for weeks ahead, and gotten that huge cooler on wheels you've seen from a previous post. I got help loading the car back up, and bringing things into the house, but exhaustion hit hard.

I managed to stay awake long enough to see our helpers out, and put my feet up long enough to start hearing the rumble of thunder in the distance. I was pulling the blanket up during close cracks of thunder and the drumming of hard rain on the roof, windows, and skylight, all of which combined to make a perfect lullabye. It was over when I woke, though another thundershower came through this afternoon, with rivers running down both side of our street. 

Today I've been lazy, eating some of the party leftovers so we can get room in the fridge/freezers again instead of prepping/heating anything. A tag end of laundry was tended to, except for the folding and hanging part - too much strain on the shoulders. I'll have to actually get dressed soon, since I need to go pick up a grocery order - fortunately mostly staples only needing shelf space, not cold space. On the way I'll go check the froggy rain gauge again, see how much came down in these last 24 hours. Steve has been busy choosing how to spend a couple gift cards, then getting more details and changing his mind. At least he's reading the fine print, because one footstool he really liked turned out to be a kit to make it himself!

Uh-uh. No way Jose! Ain't gonna happen! I won't list all the reasons, but any one would sink the effort. On to plan B... C... D........

*    *    *    *    *

Back from picking up the grocery order sent in. On the way out I emptied the rain gauge of another full inch of rain.  That gives sixteen and a quarter inches since keeping track! Hoo boy, no wonder the weeds are needing so much attention! Please note I never said they were getting all the needed attention, and some still have to wait for dry days in order to kill deep woody roots that never quite get fully dug out nor quit growing. With luck that'll take care of those till next year, and new weeds sprout and....

Yes, I dream.

While traveling on my errand, the clouds were giving quite a show. Did I mention I'm  a cloud watcher whenever possible? Skies are blue here since our last system went through a few hours ago. But weather is active northeast and southeast of us, both disturbances having moved by now well into Wisconsin. That's my now, not yours waiting much longer till I post this and you get around to reading it.

The northern one was the least impressive, during the time I was able to view it. Still, it puffed up several large lumps of clouds, coalescing into a possible shower later. Against otherwise cloudless blue, it stood out beautifully, and the afternoon sun highlighted it well. But my drive provided few openings between treetops and field borders on that side of the road to exhibit much of interest.

The start of my drive circled down to the lakeshore where I was treated not just to a very impressive cloud but its reflection as well, now that the wind was all but gone. The first thing one would notice if they were paying any attention was an anvil cloud. The cloud stretched out east past that anvil point, with a few building clouds pushing up through the flat top. Semi-connected on the trailing side was a series of large tall columns chasing and catching up to the anvil, eventually obliterating it altogether, or at least on its back end. The front, or leading side must have hit a high sheer wind while I was getting my order loaded, as the lumpy tops had been ripped off into a long flat cloud, eventually hitting a downdraft where they were sinking in a solid chunk down towards the ground again. Not rain, just cloud, all keeping pace now as a single unit stretched over miles, heading east and into the enveloping evening. Last I saw of it was upon reaching home again, where more building was slowly taking place on the western end, but it was looking tired, like it had had all the day it wanted to endure.

Dang! I wished I'd brought my camera! 

It's not just bad weather I love to watch in the clouds. There are so many different kinds of them, and I've even seen noctilucent clouds, rare as they are. I've come to love cirrus clouds. They can paint a landscape without diminishing the sunshine in it. A few years back I spent a jet boat tour on the Colorado in Utah capturing more cirrus clouds than red rock canyon walls or water reflections.

On my 75th birthday, one particular cirrus cloud lingered so long in the sky I had the chance to drive to where I wanted the perfect foreground to shoot it from. I considered it my private birthday present. I had gone to my favorite nature and wildlife sanctuary, alone, just me with the camera, able to drive where and when I wished to whatever next spot I want to  go to, no worrying about was the other person getting their photos yet or in the way of mine? It happens a lot. I enjoy taking them but solo trips have different rewards. This particular cirrus cloud was formed into my favorite bird in flight - at least in my eye. It was still intact when I hit my spot to shoot. The body arched just so, the wings were up and back, the head out with the long beak rising, and a couple wisps circling to add substance to the head before narrowing for the long beak. Every wisp of cloud could have been a line drawn in place by an artist to make the perfect whole, nothing out of place except to fill in the background a bit.

I cherish a fantasy of some day painting those clouds on a piece of transparent blue glass. The glass is prepped, cut to size and fused to a clear piece for body. I have the special paint and have test run a sample. I just need time... and some courage.

Between The Iris And The Daylilies

It's that time of summer, finally. The iris are giving their last gasps, and the daylilies are sending up stalks with still-tiny buds at their tips. Life keeps kicking along, and the columbine are still managing new blossoms, although heat, winds and hail are wreaking their damage on them. I showed the pale blue bearded iris here a while ago, which don't even have stems left, just flat blueish leaves. But the slower to bloom deep purple ones are still chugging along. 

 This was an early one, called All Night Long, and its blooming time overlapped the pale blue as you can see in a corner. It's curled, shriveled, and drippy - unless it's one I already removed for compost. More recent ones are a bit weather-pummeled.Other bearded varieties I mail-ordered last year have nice large leaves but haven't born flowers this year. Next year!!

None of the smaller varieties of iris bloomed this year, but we have healthy leaves for those too. They survive, tucked among daylilies.

While we wait for the daylilies to continue to grow and bloom,  the Asiatic lilies in the south garden are becoming showy, as the bleeding heart dies back until next spring.

 

First Asiatic lilies to bloom after planting were what they call tiger lilies. OK, they're orange. Big whoop, (The yellowish bits on the petals were hit by the sun, so the color is overexposed, not how the eye sees it.)  But I'm used to a very different tiger lily, recurved speckled orange petals and black balls (bulbils) lining the stem where leaves sit. Oh well. I grew up with those in northern Minnesota, proving how hardy they are. Mom grew them in her gardens. I have some still growing in the garden in my previous MN yard, now my son's yard.

A couple days ago we got an orange/purple combo called Forever Susan, though their "purple" is my brown. Still, it's striking. Since then several other varieties started opening.

 

 Can't be sure - no match to varietal pictures. The colors hold steady for at least a couple days anyway.

 

Exotic Sun 

I'm still deciding if this one is a red "tiger" called Red Velvet. A lot of these change colors as they age, and who knows with photos posted where Google can display them exactly where in their color changes a shot was taken? I still have several others I hope produce this year but which got slow starts, and a very few left from last fall that I hope to eventually prove weren't all eaten then. 

 

This pale pink might be Josephine.                 

                                

While these are in the garden now that they finished blooming, I bought them past full bloom at a reduced price from the store. The color fades from deep pink into soft lavender (lower left corner) as petals drop. These are shown on the porch where they could get sun and be easily watered via the tray they were sitting in, and surrounded by plastic hardware cloth to keep the bunnies at bay.  The tag identified them as Summer Sky.

I'm waiting for full white ones called My Wedding,  some Stargazers, some Fireworks, a couple Turkish near blacks called Nightrider, different pinks. I know many of those will never appear due to squirrels, as they were ordered online from Holland. But I do plan to keep photo records of what does show this year. There will be surprises next year if I can continue to keep the bunnies out because this spring they've already nibbled budding tips off of several newly sprouted ones before I noticed, Those won't bloom now, of course, but they're still surviving, surrounded by generous helpings or rhubarb stalks.

I'm told by the packaging that several of these varieties are fragrant. Perhaps after a few more seasons I'll be able to tell for myself. Of such things dreams are made.

Living Under A Skylight

Until this place, I never have. Everywhere either had a solid roof, or was in a building with another floor on top. But this home has two skylights.

Now I was raised to value privacy, almost to extremes. Mom taught us - or me in particular, being a young girl at the time - not just to keep the blinds or curtains closed, but the importance of the difference in light levels between inside and outside. It had better be darker in the house if curtains were going to be opened. Or windows for fresh air, for that matter. It wasn't by any means a total prohibition for her. I have many memories of her standing with her back to a south-facing window with the sum coming in and warming up her back. The colder the day, the longer she stood there to collect free heat.

Inside doors had to be shut tight when changing clothes, sleeping, or using the bathroom for any purpose including brushing one's teeth - that last not being something I'd think of for a modesty fetish. Nobody thought to argue, it was just how to be "proper".

To this day I still judge internal light versus external light in deciding whether blinds need to be re-angled to give us privacy or if we could open them wider to see what was going on outside. Because it was outside, we weren't spying on the neighbors of course. Any good lawyer will tell you there is no expectation of privacy out in public. Besides, we like to know which delivery trucks are stopping, especially when it might mean something we ordered was being delivered. I can tell you which neighbor shakes out their small rugs from their front porch, who waxes their car at least monthly, whether it's recycle day or just garbage day by the colors of the lids on the cans brought to the curb. And we always check whether it's raining or snowing by looking at the street pavement.

But all that is normal stuff, typical for any dwelling that isn't a cave.

There are two skylights in our roof. One is in each bathroom, either over the toilet or the shower. On the one hand it's nice not to need to turn on a light every time it's in use, since neither bathroom has an actual window on any wall. On the other hand, there's Mom's paranoia about being seen when not perfectly clothed. And she never had to worry about who might have a drone out scouting, or how sensitive satellite cameras really are.

But when under a skylight I can actually hear rain hitting the roof because it's hitting the glass, no insulation in between us. I can look up and see where a cloud stops and blue sky begins, or catch sunrise/sunset colors otherwise blocked by trees or other homes. On cloudless nights I can see two bright stars when forces of nature wake me out of bed. Should I wish to I could head out and locate constellations, moon phases, or what have you, though I never actually do, preferring more sleep instead.Well, unless it's a clear but not too cold winter evening, of course, since I don't have to wait till the wee hours to see the sky. Besides, summer night skies here are often blocked by general humidity, or in recent years, wildfire smoke drifting down from Canada. Winter cold seems to knock both those out.

Other things that do not manage to impede the skylight view include birds, since they do not seem to like to land or walk on the glass. On the other hand occasionally the local crows become the view as they glide overhead. We do see them walking on the neighbor's roofs, just not anywhere near our skylights. It may be a puzzle to be solved... or just ignored. Leaves don't gather there either. It could become quite the rainbow in the fall if they did, with all the maples we're surrounded by. Even that possibility is waning now that the park management has been cutting down a number of trees, saying they have become diseased.

Some of those trunks are huge. I have fall shots of a huge variety of colors while the trees were still here. If a huge storm did go through, the damage could be incredible, so I can see their point. And for a bonus, fewer trees just might mean fewer squirrel nests on the site, meaning fewer bulbs dug up for squirrel dinners, and even fewer oak trees arising in the middle of plantings around the house, like we've had the last two summers. I get the maple trees popping up all over, since their seeds helicopter their way down to wherever the breeze drops them. But acorns have to be planted by thrifty squirrels since there are no oak trees in fact in the park. Not a one is close as a block away. None were before the cutting, anyway. But at least no tiny trees have tried to sprout around our skylights.

On the whole, despite Mom's lessons in paranoia, I find the skylights much more boon than problem. But ask me again, if and when we are next in line for baseball-sized hail, eh? Somebody (else) will have to be hired for replacing them. I don't do ladders. I don't do roofs. So I sure as hell won't be doing any skylight installations myself.