The Saturday Market

Yesterday my daughter and I headed out of the 80 degree weather in the Greater Tacoma area for the coast. By the time we’d had dinner with an aunt & uncle in Shelton and stopped to get groceries in Raymond it was nearly full dark when we arrived. Fog had rolled in off the beach as it so frequently does when it is hot in either Seattle or Portland and we shivered in an ocean breeze as we hurried to the house.

This morning it was still foggy, but it had lifted some. The grass was too damp to mow right away so I puttered around the house until it was time for the Saturday Market on the Ilwaco Port Dock. As if by magic the market opened at the same time the fog burned away to reveal a beautiful day at the beach. I grabbed my shopping bag and wallet and strolled the two blocks from our house to the waterfront. Now I’d made sure to get some cash from the grocery store so I’d have it when I went to the Saturday Market, but I didn’t get but $20. There was a method to my madness. I didn’t want to have too much with me and I purposely left the plastic at home.

I made my way down the entire length of the waterfront, peering at each stall to see what they had. There was salmon chowder which sounded good, but not tempting at 10 AM and right after breakfast. Neither were the hot dogs or the fry bread tacos. I love fry bread, but tacos at ten didn’t strike a note. It was a good thing that I hadn’t brought more money. One stall was nothing but bags and there was a black one with lilacs on it that did tempt me, but since it was $20 which would have not left me with enough for that which I’d come for I sighed and moved on.

There were handmade toys, jewelry and rag rugs. The rag rugs made me sigh, too. They are dangerous because they can slip all over the place so even though they had pretty ones in colors I like I wasn’t tempted there either. It made me think of the one rag rug I have. It was given to me by my grandmother when I was in my 20s and was made by my great-grandmother. I haven’t had it on the floor in years because I don’t want it to fall apart any more than I can help and some of the stitching is coming loose. I seldom consign an article of clothing to the rag bag without thinking of my grandmother and her mother who made quilts and rugs out of the scraps of their sewing, worn out clothing, and flour sacking. Those women knew how to use it up, wear it out, and make do. Wistfully I moved on.

There were stalls with handcrafted soap which I love, but I have an enamel bowl full of soap in the bathroom now and really couldn’t justify buying more even if I have been washing the skin off my hand since this whole swine flu thing started. The fragrances coming from those stalls were alluring, but I plugged my nose and went on.

My purpose for perusing farmer’s markets is for the produce and I wanted fresh vegetables for dinner with my mother. With my money still intact I arrived at the Asis Farm stall. This family comes from Wapato to sell its produce and you take what’s in season. None of this 1,000 petrol miles produce. I bought a pound of sugar snap peas, a bunch of baby asparagus, and a fat beet to put in the crock pot with a chicken and headed home. There was just enough time to get the crockpot going so there’d be a dinner waiting for me when I got done working in the yard.

The Sixth Ave. Farmer’s Market begins Tuesday afternoon and I plan to be there with my granddaughter. I also love the Proctor’s Market, the Tacoma Thursday Market and the Gig Harbor Farmer’s Market. Farmer’s markets are the reason I love this time of year. For a listing of farmer’s Markets in Pierce County click here.

Mowing Musings

It’s mowing time of year again. This is not my favorite activity, but it does allow for plenty of time to ruminate which IS my favorite activity. Whether I inherited this Walter Middy interior life from my father or it’s the result of being an only child, I can’t say. The mowing of the yard at our house at the sea falls mostly to me. This time of year I make the 150 miles drive every two weeks to mow and also to shop for my mother.

This time I thought I’d mix it up a bit and start with the section I usually leave until last. I don’t think it matters what pattern you mow in. Even as the amount you have left to mow shrinks it appears bigger and bigger. I have an electric lawn mower so it isn’t heavy to push, but its small wheelbase means more trips across the yard. I try to think of it as not only being good for the environment, but good for my blood pressure. Getting rid of the grass entirely would be even better for the environment, but someone likes play with the grandchildren on the lawn.
One thing I’ve discovered about mowing the lawn is that it’s like a virus you give to your neighbors. It used to be that when I started mowing the neighbor would get out his lawn mower and mow, too. It never failed. He’s not in good health and now he sends his son-in-law out every time I mow. The man across the street frequently gets out about ½ through my job.

One strip of grass gets mowed twice because there’s a disagreement as to whose strip it is. When we bought the place there was a stake out at what we assumed was the property line between our yard and that of the elderly lady who lived next door. The stake stayed there for about 10 years until Viola died and her nephews, who take better care of the lawn now that she’s dead than they ever did when she was alive, pulled it out. Just one of the strange things they’ve done. So there is this strip that we mow and they mow, too. One of these days we should get the property lines surveyed. It’s not like we want to put up a fence between us or anything since the nephews are seldom there, but someday the grandchildren we intend to leave the place to might like to know what they are supposed to mow. Actually, I’ll be happy when they are big enough to mow for me! They will stop wanting to come with me.

I have to admit that the yard looks nice when it's done. Well, my mowing for this trip is done and it’s time to hit the shower. Thank goodness I put a chicken along with beets from the farmer’s market in the crockpot. Dinner’s half made. I wonder how far I walk when I go back and forth, back and forth on our lawn. Maybe I should get a pedometer and find out. Maybe I don’t want to know.

I'm Dancing!

Lyme-Awareness Month Goes Out With A Bang!

I am so very pleased to announce to my neighbours that yesterday, May 29th., the Connecticut Senate passed HB 6200, the Lyme disease doctor protection bill...36-0...following its unanimous passage in the Conn. House of Representatives on April 30th. Can you see me dancing?

From the Lyme Disease Association:

HB6200 contains language that will protect Connecticut licensed Lyme-literate, treating physicians from prosecution by the State of Connecticut Medical Examining Board, solely on the basis of a clinical diagnosis and/or for treatment of chronic Lyme. The bill provides the definition for Lyme disease which includes "the presence in a patient of signs and symptoms compatible with acute infection with Borrelia burgdorferi; or with late stage or persistent or chronic infection with Borrelia burgdorferi, or with complications related to such an infection." It also defines clinical diagnosis as determined by a physician, "...that is based on knowledge obtained through the medical history and physical examination alone, or in conjunction with the testing that provides supportive data for such clinical diagnosis." In addition, it provides for updating the Lyme disease definition if other strains are found to cause Lyme disease.

The final bill was the result of months of negotiations between Legislative Leaders, the Conn. Dept. of Public Health and patient groups. According to Maggie Shaw,k Newtown Lyme Disease Task Force, who has been spearheading the Connecticut effort, "Patients in Connecticut and their families will experience some relief as a result of the passage of this bill and Governor Rell's hoped-for decision to sign it into law. Instead of having to drive for hours to other states, Conn. residents may actually be able to receive treatment in tht State for their debilitating symptoms, since the bill opens the door to a more friendly treatment climate for physicians."

Pat Smith, president of the national Lyme Disease Association, who has been working with legislators in Hartford to secure passage, underscored the importance of the bill to patients everywhere: "This bill hits at the heart of the Lyme problem, recognizing chronic Lyme infection, long-term treatment of Lyme disease, and recognizing and defining clinical judgment by physicians. Legislators are to be commended for being knowledgeable about the problem, focusing on finding a solution acceptable to disparate groups, and taking action to make this bill a reality, a win-win for patients, doctors, and the State itself."

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Yes, Connecticut is where Lyme first became a big problem....named for the Connecticut town rife with the infection. The known numbers of cases are in the thousands there, crippling the state financially as residents have been struck hard by this disease. Slowly we are reaching legislators about the schism within the Medical System and the patient's right to informed consent.

Here on the west coast, California has passed legislation protecting Lyme-treating physicians because they realized the state was endemic. North of California, the taking of statistics stops, the understanding of Lyme stops...despite the knowledge that ticks thrive even more in this cooler, wetter clime of Oregon and Washington. We risk losing physicians to witch-hunts who are saving lives and returning some quality of life to suffering patients. I can't say it enough times....

TREATMENT LET MY DAUGHTER STAND-UP FROM HER WHEELCHAIR. TREATMENT HAS GIVEN HER ABSTRACT THOUGHT BACK TO HER...AND MY DAUGHTER BACK TO ME.

I thank you all so much for walking with me this month. We push for May because it is the most dangerous month for Lyme disease. The ticks are tiny, waiting to hitch a ride, waiting for a host so they may feed. What you DON'T know, may kill you. I'm not throwing that in for dramatic effect, my friends. Three days ago we received a parcel from our incredibly courageous Lymefighter friend, Tracie Schissel, who advocates on behalf of the Lyme community despite being compromised so much by the disease and co-infections. In the parcel were two tiny brass and mother-of-pearl urns. They contain the ashes of our beloved Leslie Wermers, Tracie's sister who was taken by Lyme disease last November. We loved her so much...and this was our first physical meeting.

We have a chance to be pro-active in Washington. We have a chance to get ahead of the numbers and save lives. Olympia...I'm comin' for ya!

Congratulations... Bellarmine's African American Graduating Seniors

I applaud you and invite everyone who reads this article to congratulate you, African American students, for choosing to take another step towards building the Beloved Community our dear brother, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, wanted so very much for his country. He wanted the United States to be a country where every human being was recognized and valued because they were daughters and sons of God. As daughters and sons of God our differences were to be consciously and heartily acknowledged... gifts of God working in the world; and our similarities were to also be consciously and heartily acknowledged. Each one of us needs to be accepted and supported as we are; each one of us needs to give and receive unconditional love. The African American Seniors, with the support of their parents, family members, social and spiritual groups, teachers and staff, become thoughtful, confident, and academically competent human beings, who, if they choose, can "make of our old world a new world."
This picture captures just a few of the faces at the African American Graduation Banquet.


Dear African American sisters, I congratulate you for choosing, mothers, other family members, friends, and mentors, to support our young women in continuing to be strong, loving, prudent, and courageous.

Here is a picture of a mother and a daughter who spoke at the graduation banquet.












I found the young woman in the film truly inspirational.

What's Working: Thanks to Two Josephs!

My mom recently had knee replacement surgery at St. Joseph’s Medical Center in Tacoma. Would you believe that my Mom, DURING her hospitalization, dined with fellow patients, got a massage, had fine dining, received a trophy and T-shirt, and played Putt-Putt golf?

Well, believe it.

Mom was admitted into the unique St. Joseph’s program of “Joint Camp.” Located in the circular tower on the 8th floor, all the joint replacement patients were put in the same section. In the center of the circular configuration of hospital rooms and nurse’s stations was physical therapy. Patients had their therapists and coaches right outside their rooms. Mom’s room (the Mt. Adams room which boasted a cool view of Mt. Rainier and the Tacoma Dome) was central on the floor.

Besides the convenience of having services right then and there and less than a stone’s throw away, Joint “Campers” had special events to make their recovery more personable and give them a welcome change of pace and scenery. They got a special buffet lunch and dined with other “Campers.” They had the option of getting a massage (Mom said that was heaven), and had a “special dinner” with a guest. On the 2nd night of their stay, Campers get to invite a special guest to come dine with them. I was the lucky one that got to go! We were served a very nice dinner with salad, roll, entrée, and cheesecake for dessert with cloth napkins and nice silverware. We even got a glass of wine! Of course, the patients opted for sparkling cider (I enjoyed a glass of Merlot). On the last day of Mom’s stay, she played Putt-Putt golf (a fun way for the P/T folks to introduce proper standing/positioning/etc). Mom won the trophy for golfing. And she got a Joint Camp T-shirt that read, “No Pain, No Cane!” The Campers are even offered a celebratory reunion for later down the road when they are healing. Awesome!

And what was even more awesome is my friend and “In Your Neighborhood” fellow blogger. Joseph McGowan (Father Oneal) one of the St. Joseph’s chaplains, came to visit my mom during her stay (thanks again my friend). Mom found Joseph funny, sweet, interesting, and delightful (don’t we all?) and she really enjoyed his visit. Joseph also asked Mom if she’d like a harpist to come play some soothing music for her! Mom even had the option of having someone come into to wash her hair and help her “spruce” up a bit. Wow!

And what else was a wow was the kindness that every staff member showed to my family and I. Whether we were talking to the nurses taking care of my mom, checking out the gift shop, waiting in the surgery waiting room, or eating some yummy food in the deli while Mom slept, we were greeted with kindness and extraordinary customer service and care from paid and volunteer employees alike. Everyone was so gosh darn NICE and welcoming. Mom said it made a huge difference in her recovery. For me, it made me feel great and proud to have such a wonderful and fine institution in our city.

Thanks, St. Joseph’s for your dedicated care to the patients and their families. You are making a difference.

It Wasn't On Porpoise!

THAT creature is what we saw on our boat in the bay yesterday right smack dab in the middle of the bay between Vashon Island and Dash Point. This is called a Dall's Porpoise. Their markings are eerily similar to the Orca and they are good size. I screamed "whales" while sitting on the bow with my daughter. Upon closer inspection, these friendly guys weren't what I thought but really cool to see close-up nonetheless.