Leaving Joplin the other day we spotted this Easter Tree. It was purely accidental because I turned through a residential area to avoid making the dreaded left hand turn. It was a perky, lovely surprise – just standing there in someone’s front yard – waiting to be appreciated. It made me think about doing the same thing in my own front yard with the tree Bob and Ruth planted for me 2-3 years ago. I haven’t done it yet, but it’s a thought. I think it’s a good thought, but I’m not managing to get everything done I need to do these days, without adding in anything extra.
I am getting a little bit more into life. I’m having lunch with Andrea tomorrow, then Trish on Friday. I’m also getting a little less spacey. I’ve been just missing details – it’s like I’m still a little stoned from all the drugs I had during surgery and afterwards. It seems to be getting better every day, but it’s hard for me to hold on to details sometimes. They just flit through my brain and then they’re gone. I can’t even remember things long enough to get them on a list. I miss emails and comments. I forget to return phone calls, etc. etc. etc. They tell me this will pass as I get more distance from surgery and it is getting better every day.
Thank goodness for digital photos – they serve to remind me of all kinds of things – like cool cemeteries recently visited. Is that a segue or what?
On the way back from pie in Golden City the other day, Greg, his mom, his girlfriend Mia, and I stopped by the cemetery in Carterville, Missouri. This is a pretty small town, but their cemetery is huge. I’m always curious to see Woodmen of the World tombstones, and they had some of different designs than I generally see in Kentucky.
But the most interesting tombstone we spotted was this one. (Well, as far as I’m concerned, anyway.) It is for Nellie, wife of Andy Roberson, July 28, 1878 to Oct. 23, 1904.
It looks like a pretty normal tombstone until you look at the design near the top. And there, if you look closely, you see an ankh inside a triangle inside a circle with the words, “Ancient Order Pyramids.” A quick google search shows one reference to this being a secret society, but no real information. It must be really, really secret because I’ve read thousands of pages about Egypt and never run across it. Of course, like most such “clubs” it probably has nothing to do with Egypt except taking some of the symbols. But, I don’t know. If I’m never heard from again, you’ll know the Ancient Order of the Pyramids came and took me away.
I find it fascinating the things people feel such an affinity for that they put it on their tombstones – or their survivors do, anyway. You often see Mason symbols on tombstones and I’m guessing this must be something like that. I just cannot imagine any group or activity I would feel so close to that I’d want to be associated with it for the extended time a stone would remain intact. That’s significant.
Carterville is between Cooky’s, where we all had pie…
and SuperTam Ice Cream where we all had – you guessed it – ice cream. Needless to say, we did not go out for dinner that night. I haven’t eaten dessert since.
I’m feeling better every day. My little aches and pains are going away one by one. And I feel like doing more all the time. I’m still not bending and staying bent for any amount of time. Greg’s mom bought me one of those handy grabber things. I’ve already pressed it into service more than once since getting home.
I’m still trying to get a little walking in every day. Today I went to Dillon Nature Center for a few minutes and walked one of the trails. I was on the Woodard Trail, looking up at the various trees, and glanced back to the trail just in time to see something moving. I stopped and let out a girly-man yelp because there, just a couple of steps from being under my foot, was a snake.
I know… it’s a garter snake. I know… they’re not dangerous. I know… they’re more afraid of me than I am of them. Ah ha! That last one is a lie. They are not afraid of me. The reason I know is that I had time to get my camera out of my pocket, turn it on, wait for it to power up which is not a speedy process, and snap this photo of the snake that was in absolutely no hurry to get away from me – the thing he is supposedly scared of. They are not afraid of humans and if anyone tells you they are they are trying to lull themselves into a false sense of security.
I hate snakes. I don’t want to harm them. I don’t want to get close enough to them to harm them. But they scare me. They make me let out girly man yelps. They make my heart stop for a second. I know this makes me a very poor nature girl, but I can’t help it. In my defense I grew up in an area where there were lots of poisonous snakes, so it’s a learned behavior to be afraid of anything fitting that general description. And, lets not forget, I still have a little scar on my right ankle where a viper decided to sink his fangs into me.
But, on to more pleasant nature subjects… I spotted these pretty little purple flowers. I don’t know what they are, and they might well be some sort of noxious weed the state highway department has been trying to eradicate for decades, but I think they’re pretty.
Well, I’m off to bed soon. I had hoped to take another go at the synopsis of the novel tonight, but I think I’m just too weary. It has been a very long day.
Check www.patsyterrell.com for the blog, art, and more. Friend me on facebook.com. Follow me at twitter.com. All text and photos on this website are copyright Patsy Terrell, unless otherwise noted. None are to be used without permission. Thank you.