Eclectic and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Month*

Once upon a time, there was a woman whose husband and three charming children made her life complete. Challenging, to be sure, but complete -- in a good way. Then, it became May 2008.

It actually begins sometime in April, when Mr. Eclectic had knee surgery. In itself, not so horrible. Next, Mr. Eclectic had a problem with his inner ear.

It got so bad that the swelling impinged on his facial nerve, which caused him to experience Bell's palsy, making him look like he'd had a stroke. It frightened Eclectic badly.

The medicine the doctor prescribed for Mr. Eclectic's Bell's palsy (or maybe the palsy itself, no one seems to know), gave the shingles virus an opportunity to rear its ugly head all along Mr. Eclectic's already irritated facial nerve. Shingles, in case you don't know, is not very much fun. So the doctor(s) prescribed even more medication.

Eventually, all the medicine combined to nearly suppress Mr. Eclectic's immune system, leaving him vulnerable to "secondary infection." Meaning, now Mr. Eclectic has pneumonia and he's been fighting it for nearly two weeks. He coughs a lot. Especially when he's lying down, like, at night when Eclectic is trying to sleep.

Then, on Saturday, because Mr. Eclectic feels like crap but still wanted to get out of the house, the Eclectics went for a drive. Which was great, right up to the part where we got lost on a tiny, TEENY track alongside an irrigation canal at the top of a fairly steep ridgeline in the middle of nowhere and couldn't turn around. (See "tiny, teeny track" and "alongside an irrigation canal" part of the previous sentence.) Still, the family Eclectic was having fun, being the sort of family that likes an adventure.

BUT: when everyone decided it was time for dinner, we still had to find a way down off the teeny tiny track, and the only way was across the side of a slope, through a pear orchard. The grown-up Eclectics got out of the pickup to survey the route, and everything looked great. What we couldn't see was that the orchardist had quite thoughtfully left the groundwater system on for what we later learned had been the past three days, meaning, there was 6-8 inches of mud hiding under the grassy surface between the trees.

The Eclectics drove slowly across the slope and rather quickly realized that the ground beneath our tires was sliding. It was really no time at all before the pickup nosed heavily into the trunk of a thirty-year-old pear tree, mired up to its hubcaps in mud and grass. Thankfully, the Eclectics have lots of friends in the area, of the sort who will good-naturedly show up for two days in a row and help get your truck out of a hillside orchard, including calling the orchardist to ask him to turn off the ( &%*#!-ing groundwater so the mud can dry).

The insurance adjuster is supposed to show up anyday now. In the meantime, they called our attention to the portion of our declarations page which notified us three months ago that they had discontinued rental car coverage in the case of single-car, at-fault collisions.

Some months, it's just best if you move to Australia.






*Apologies to Alexander and his author.

And you thought I was joking.

Silly, silly bloggies... I never joke about something as lifeless as this blog space has become. I really did take a jillion photos on our trip (over a month ago...), and I really can't post more than 5 at a time. (Thanks Blogger.)

However, this is the final installment. The remainder of the photos not included here are just not worth keeping you on the edges of your seats. (I know you have been.) So with that, I offer you the following pictorial:


This is a blooming Redbud tree in Sequoia National Park:





This is G, camoflaged at the base of one of the sequoias:





Here are B and G, standing somewhat disbelievingly inside a tunnel cut into one of the sequoias that had fallen years ago:





2 minutes earlier or later and we would likely have not seen this guy, recently awakened and ambling down the road. We hung out with him/her for several minutes (from the safety of our vehicle), until he/she finally clambered up the snowbank. It was perhaps the coolest few minutes of the entire adventure:





Here is G at a tournament in Yakima, the very tournament at which his team qualified for the other tournament on May 2,3 & 4 in Spokane. This particular at-bat produced an out-of-the-park, over-the-fence home run which soared into the parking lot and dented the roof of a minivan. (Yes, we offered to pay for the damage; no, the driver did not accept.)




And there it is.

My Spring Vacation... by Eclectic.

I have visions of someday actually writing in this space, but if I were you, I wouldn't hold my breath. Thanks for stopping by anyway.

More photos... finally.

Another perspective on the Grand Canyon:




And then, G had to explore yet another perspective:




A resident of the Canyon takes a look at us:




The dessert in bloom:




Since we were crossing the dessert anyway, we figured it was a great opportunity to show the kids "the Strip":




Y'know... at the rate of 5 photos per post and 1 post every so often, it occurs to me that the nearly 300 photos I took on this trip could conceivably provide content for this blog until roughly the year 2025. Won't that be fun?

"YESSSSS! Now it's safe to go potty!!!"

So said Littlest Eclectic upon hearing that the forest of Joshua trees at the approach to the Grand Canyon had given way to gentler high-desert topography. Apparently, Joshua trees are threatful. Who knew?

Yes, Dear Internets… “we loaded up the truck and moved to Beverleeeeee… Hills, that is.” Well, not exactly. But we DID drive about 3,200 miles in the space of 11 days, and saw things – lots of things, wondrous things, AMAZING things. Like this:





And this:





And this:





Also, this:





As well as this:





So… I wish that all of you could have been there with me, but I notice that none of you offered to help me drive. Whatever.

I’ll post more photos later, because I know that most people love nothing more than being subjected to slide shows of other people’s vacations, and I wouldn’t want to deprive you. I’m a giver like that. Between now and then I have to work, update the family calendar for the month, file my taxes, and tackle the mountain of dirty laundry that looms ominously in the utility room. If I don’t return, start the questioning with that innocent-looking Snuggle character.

No really, it's a conspiracy. Global warming hasn't been proven.

Go here.

Ow.

I have a gift. I guess it's more of a talent, really. For falling.

For example: A few weeks ago -- President's Day in fact -- I fell while skate skiing. I fell hard enough to break one of my poles in two from the force of the pole-plant trying to withstand my hurtling body at warp speed. I still have the Montana-sized bruise on my left flank, although it's gone to grey and greenish now from the deep blue and purple it once was. I nearly knocked myself unconscious and experienced a pretty significant whiplash which has been healing nicely, thank you.

But last night, I discovered that my gift for falling is truly rare and magnificent. I was attending a coaching class for cycling -- doing time trials, measuring lactic acid thresholds, etc. My bike was mounted on a rear-wheel trainer and I was clipped in at the pedals. We were in the final minute of a forty-minute effort and had been instructed to go all out. Evidently my bike speaks and understands English, for at that very moment, one side of the rear wheel skewer slipped out of the trainer... trying for "all out", I presume. I tumbled over -- hard -- bike and all, feet still clipped in, and landed just near enough to the fellow next to me that his foot struck the back of my head --twice-- before he was able to stop the revolution of his cranks.

Now before you get all concerned, let me just ask you this: Who falls riding a bike indoors on a stationary trainer?!?!?! NO ONE, that's who! Except ME! So now, you can say you are acquainted with an exceptionally gifted athlete. The fact that my athletic gift is falling?? Well, that'll just be our little secret.

Moving to Arizona...

Today we begin "daylight saving." I H.A.T.E. daylight saving.

For one, because there is precisely as much daylight today as there would have been if we had left the clocks alone, it's just that now I have to change all my clocks and the daylight we have simply arrives at a different hour.

For another, I love sleep. Daylight saving time means one hour less sleep. So not fair.

For a third, it was just finally beginning to get light earlier so I could ride my bike to work at 5:00. Now, it's dark again.

Grrrrrrr.

Pick a time, any time... standard or daylight, I don't really care. Just please, PLEASE stop messing with it!