February 2nd. Groundhog Day. Gary Snyder’s birthday. Jonathan’s 20th new birthday. My ‘New Adventure’ 4th anniversary. And the first day I’ve ever had to visit a skilled nursing facility/nursing home for my much loved mother.

Wasn’t it just a few months ago that I started this blog?? Four years into my adventure. If anyone would have told me back then all the changes that would happen in my life in that period of time, I would have thought they were crazy. It’s funny how fast time goes by…..and how much faster it seems to travel in my later years. All in all, I’ve had a very happy four years. There have been moments, of course…..losing Krystal, some loneliness early on, and (the most stressful) my mom getting sick.

Mom is currently in the hospital but will be moved to rehab tomorrow. The goal is to get her stronger so she can move back home with her wonderful caregiver Edna. But she is 88 years old. How much strength, endurance, will, does she have left? She’s always said she will live to be 90. And she may. As I was sitting in the ER with her after arrival to St. Elizabeth Hospital, I watched her vitals monitor. Beep….beep….beep went her heart like the ticking of a clock. 19…..20….19 breaths taken. Then a deep breath…………oh there’s another one. Phew. I got very philosophical and retrospective watching that machine that gave evidence of life. I prayed for her……then thought ‘wouldn’t Nan have loved to have her mom around for 88 years’?! (Nan is a dear friend who lost her mom when she was nine years old.).

I think….no, I KNOW…it will be painful to lose my mom even if she makes it another 20 years. Yes, I have full confidence in where her eternity will be spent and He gives me peace with that reality. But pain will be felt. I guess the only way to avoid that pain is to never love at all. But if we don’t love, what’s the point of living? I pray she is free of pain and happy. That is what my brother and sister want most for her, too. In the meantime, we try to do what’s best for her. And we love her.

On February 6, 2016, at 11 AM, I became Belinda Long.  Belinda Dianne Long.  Belinda Dianne McKenzie Long.  Belinda Dianne McKenzie Plsek Long.  Doesn’t that sound plumb royal, with all those names?!  And yay for a last name like Long!  Having Plsek as a last name for over 40 years has been a challenge.  When I say it, no one can spell it, and when I spell it, no one can pronounce it.  If someone needed to write my name down, I’ve always said P as in Paul, L as in Larry, S as in Sam, E as in Edward, K as in Kenneth.  Then inevitably, I would have to respond with ‘yes, I do need to buy a vowel haha.’  Of course, I always knew when sales people called when I had a land line.  I would hear ‘Is this Mrs………uh…….plssssk?’  Kinda sounded like a quick ‘psst’ with an ‘L’ thrown in there.  One time, Kenn and I were going somewhere and valet parked.  I was driving and when the valet asked for the name, I decided to give the name Long. So, out of habit, I said ‘Long L-O-N-G’.  I really doubt the guy needed me to spell it.

On Sunday, we disembarked from our honeymoon cruise.  We sailed out of San Juan, Puerto Rico and went to St. Thomas, St. Kitts, Aruba, and Curacao.  We swam with the dolphins, went snorkeling in the southern Caribbean, and did a couple of bus tours.  We had a fantastic time!

Oh yeah, I mentioned in a past blog that I told Kenn I wouldn’t marry him until we had an argument to see how we weathered it.  Well, I changed my mind.  After dating for two and a half years, we still haven’t argued.  I’m sure it will happen at some point.  We both know what marriage is like…..between the two of us, we have 70 years of marriage experience.  But right now, we are on a newlywed high….and I hope it never ends!  I LOVE being Mrs. Long!

Those of you who know me well know that I love animals. I love dogs and cats (even though I am allergic to cats) and I love going to well maintained zoos. Last night, I had an animal visitor.

My mother and my son came to Tennessee from Texas and California, respectively, for Christmas. Jonathan flew back to LA today (Tuesday) and Mom will fly to Houston tomorrow from the Nashville airport. Since the airport is 3.5 hours away from my new home, the three of us came to my Murfreesboro house (which is only 40 minutes or so from the airport) Monday night. We ordered a pizza for dinner and, as the delivery person walked away, I looked down and there sat a black pit bull terrier wagging his tail off. I said hello, petted his head, and in the house he came. He was the sweetest, friendliest guy! Jonathan decided to walk him around to the neighbors to find his home. No one knew the pup…..and all of them backed way up when they saw him. Jonathan tried to reassure them that he was very friendly, but no one trusted a pit bull. We took him to a 24 hour vet to see if he was micro chipped and he was not. They determined he was between six months and a year old.

We came back to the house and, since Mom is highly allergic to most dogs, sat outside on the back patio with the dog. We were trying to figure out our next move when the neighbor dogs started barking at ‘our’ pup. He never barked back, just backed away from the fence when the others barked. One neighbor came outside and said, “You never found his home?” Jonathan replied, “No, we may have to let him sleep here tonight.” She replied, “Not if he makes all the neighborhood dogs bark.” Wait…what?! He doesn’t make a peep other than the thumping of his wagging tail, but he’s causing trouble!

My son decided to sleep in the car with him. Then his Mema convinced him to come in and sleep upstairs with the door closed. Jonathan is 6’3″ and slept on a love seat……with the dog on top of him part of the night. They bonded.

This morning, I called several vets, contacted rescue and humane society groups, searched the Internet….all to no avail. As an absolute last resort, we finally brought him to PAWS, Pet Adoption and Welfare Services for my county. In other words, the pound. I cried, offered a hefty donation if they would keep him until he was adopted, but was informed it doesn’t work that way. They keep him three business days for owners to retrieve lost pets. Then they assess him to see if they think he is adoptable. If not, euthanization. He’s friendly, playful, loving and wants to be loved. But–through no fault of his own–he was born a Pit Bull.

I wonder how many people are out there that are friendly, loving, and want to be loved but–through no fault of their own–were born in the ‘wrong’ country, state, city, neighborhood?

I begin today’s blog with a geography lesson. When I first met Kenn, he lived just north of Cincinnati, and I lived south of Nashville, about five and a half hours away from each other. The only state between Tennessee and Ohio is Kentucky. Now for my Texas friends and family, Cincinnati is to Ohio and Kentucky as Orange is to Texas and Louisiana…… sort of. At night, as you drive over a hill in Kentucky, nearing the Ohio state line, the bright lights of Cincinnati are just beautiful! And as you near the Texas state line…..well, there’s the Orange city limits sign.

Anyway, Kenn sold that house and, while it was a smidge too big for one person (it had SEVEN bathrooms!), it had some wonderful personalized parts, namely Kenn’s train room. He is into model trains, and even put tunnels through his foundation for them to travel through! Now, he lives in Tipp City, just north of Dayton, Ohio. It’s about 45 minutes north of the sold home. About two and a half hours northeast of that, is Massillon, where he works with his cousin, Tim. Massillon is near Canton and, while it’s hard to fathom for Texan folks, you are almost out of Ohio real estate! An hour north of Canton is Cleveland, which is on Lake Erie.

Kenn has lived in Ohio his entire life, except for two years when he was a child. I, on the other hand, have lived in Texas, New Jersey, Georgia, and now Tennessee. As we have tried to decide the best time to get married (still haven’t figured it out!) we have also tried to figure out where we will live once we are married. As it turns out, Murfreesboro is not right for Kenn and Cincinnati is not right for me. A couple of years ago, Kenn owned a lake house on Norris Lake, about 30 minutes north of Knoxville. After looking online for several months and seeing HUNDREDS of houses in many locations, we narrowed our search to the Norris Lake area.

While each of us had personal preferences (i.e. he wanted a train room, basement, and big garage and I wanted main level bedrooms and laundry, and not too many bathrooms!) both of us hoped for fewer but bigger rooms, and something pretty to look at out the windows. We decided to go look at houses in person in mid September, mainly as a distraction for me. Earlier that week, I had made that horrible decision about Krystal, and needed something to get my mind off of it. We set out with a real estate agent to look at 18 homes scattered all around the lake. We had ranked them, and wouldn’t you know that our number one choice went under contract right before we started looking! I ALWAYS scratch pending homes off my list (whats the point in looking?!) but since this was our number one, we decided to take a look. And of course, it left the others in the dust!!! While the pending sale was sketchy to say the least (someone from Dubai wanted it, sight unseen, no contingencies) it was still under contract. After our search was over, we made the decision to build if the house sold. Meanwhile, I prayed that if it wasn’t the right house for our future, the Dubai thing would work out. Well it didn’t work out, and I am now sitting in my new great room, updating my blog, and occasionally looking out at the spectacular view of Norris Lake. I am closer to Ohio, the same distance from Atlanta as before, and three and a half hours away from Murfreesboro. Kenn is here as much as he can be, and will happily move here permanently once we are married. We have met wonderful neighbors, some of which have promised to look out for me while Kenn is away.

I am amazed as I look back at the twists and turns my new life’s road has taken. I’ve learned that life throws you curveballs on a regular basis!  In the meantime, Casey is trying to adjust to yet another new home.  Bless his heart.

Signs.

They are everywhere. But in the last few months, I’ve noticed some you don’t see too often.   Some signs say ‘Yay! You made it!’  Or ‘Look where you are!’

Others say ‘Watch out for animals!’

We actually saw a ‘Turtle Crossing’ sign but I didn’t get a picture of it.

Other signs tell the speed limit.

Of course, you have your street name signs.  This one was in Jackson Hole, Wyoming where they get 300+ inches of snow every year.  Seems like the name would hurt the property values.

There’s your ‘Share the road’ sign…..

And on the other side of the above….

I guess they turn it around come winter time.

Some signs have only pictures.  I suppose you have to figure out what they mean.

This one must mean ‘Watch out for bicycles falling on your head.’

I think this one means ‘If you drive a bus, a helicopter might land on you.’

Maybe ‘Watch out for crumbly pizza crust.’

Uhhh…..’Watch out for deer riding bicycles’?????

And this last one was the best sign of all, I think!

Go west, young man!

Or slightly over middle-aged man and woman, such as the case may be.

During August of 2014, Kenn and I made the decision to travel out west for an extended time August 2015.  So, we started saving our pennies and making reservations in Yellowstone National Park and Glacier National Park.  I carefully studied my options and finally came up with the best choices for us.  And most of them were already sold out, a year before time to travel!   But, I did get my second choices, so that was good.

We took off August 10th and returned late September 8th night.  We drove 6102 miles, traveled through fifteen states, and visited more than 25 national parks, forests, and monuments.  We scrapped Glacier National Park because Kenn wants to take a train trip there at some point in our future.  We saw over 20 different species of animals including black bear, big horned sheep, moose, bison, elk, pronghorn, and some of those elusive Yellowstone wolves.  We explored parts of our country that are breathtakingly beautiful!  And I………wait for it……….hiked.  Many times.  And I almost enjoyed it.  I don’t mind walking but I’ve never liked hiking.  And yes, there’s a difference.

All in all, we both had a fantastic time!

Some sad news on our return.  The pups spent a month in their hotel (Kenn calls it their jail).  Casey was being groomed the last day.  I received a call from the groomer that he had a lot of matted hair and they would need to take him ‘a little shorter’.  I now have a white Chihuahua with a fluffy tail. If they had brought Casey and a black fluffy dog out at the same time, I would have asked why they dyed Casey black.  He had to prove to me his identity when we got home by retrieving his favorite toys when I said their names.

On a much sadder note, a few days later, I made the horrendously hard decision to have Krystal put to sleep.  She had been suffering from dementia for quite a while and it was getting noticeably worse.  She died peacefully in my arms with Kenn and Casey by our side.  Krystal turned 16 in August.  Casey whimpers every time I mention her name.

I guess adventures come in all sorts of ways, good or otherwise.  I press on to see what else God has in store for me.  Even though I’ve gone through some very difficult times in my life, I can honestly and confidently say, He has been extremely good to me!

May 16th.

My parents’ 64th anniversary, had my dad lived past their 53rd.

Another anniversary…..and, as Forest Gump would say…….that’s all I want to say about that.

And now, another day to remember.  May 16, 2015, the day that Beldar Jr. decided to sound the alarm.  At 6:50 AM, my chest woke me up.  Two years and 22 days after getting him, he’s ready to leave me!  I am still making monthly payments on him, too!  When I first got a pacemaker/defibrillator implanted, I was told it would last five or six years.  My first one, named Beldar due to feeling like an alien had invaded my chest, lasted two years seven months and 29 days.  I think.  I’ll have to look at a previous blog to be sure.  I don’t think my insurance company is going to like me very much.  The first one was billed at $98,000 and the second one was $58,000 since they just replaced the device and used the same leads to my heart.  But besides the money, I really don’t relish the thought of my chest being cut open every other year!  They can’t/don’t/won’t use the same incision, so they cut right next to the old one.  With my track record, I will have ten more of these if I live to be 80.  Nice, huh?! When oh when will someone really smart figure out how to make devices with rechargeable batteries?!  When I go for a device check, I sit next to the technician and a big machine.  They put a thing over my shoulder onto Beldar for a minute or so, then take it off.  I then can walk, talk, move about.  But I am blue toothed of sorts with the machine.  The tech will go, ‘if you feel your heart racing, that’s me!’  She/he can speed up or stop my heart if they choose!  Now seems to me, if they can do that, they could put that thing back on Beldar and charge him up!  Just sayin’…

I will call tomorrow and start planning for surgery….again.