The 70th Edition

(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)

Summer has lost it grasp and Winter is trying to sneak in among the colors. We have had a few nights close to the freezing mark, but the weather possesses a lot of fickleness at this time of year. The colors are always a wonder to behold but now the leaves are also losing their grasp. As we cross the Cumberland River from Wilson County to Sumner County, there is a mass of trees of every hue in brilliant colors along the river. I intended to take a picture of them to show you, but I kept forgetting my camera. I did remember to take it this last Friday, but after strong winds and rain on Thursday I found the trees now of dull hue and falling leaves. The best I could do was the tree you see above, one in the parking lot where Carolyn has her therapy every week.

Carolyn is continuing to amaze her therapist and doctor with the rate of her progress. Of course the therapy and exercise is painful, but it is stretching the aggravated muscles into shape to allow her to move normally once again. Our daughter, Debbie, flew in from California to help out the second week after surgery. We were happy to have her here even for a short visit of great help. Five weeks of therapy are now completed. She will visit her doctor again on the 12th of November. It is hoped that she will be released from treatment at that time and we can be on our way to wherever. The way it is planned at the moment, we will leave Lebanon on November 15. We will have been here for two-and-one-half months. We have “enjoyed” our stay but we are ready to go. But before we go, how about a little dab of history.

The arrival of the European settlers here in the late 1700's found the region around Lebanon, Tennessee dotted with mounds and sites of fortified villages of the prehistoric Native American Indians. It was their hunting grounds, where wild game abounded in the cane brakes and cedar forests. Wilson County was established by the Tennessee General Assembly on Oct. 26, 1799, three years after Tennessee became a state. On Nov. 13, 1801, the town of Lebanon was authorized. The appointed commissioners chose the land around a gushing spring where in 1800, Neddy Jacobs had built his log cabin. Seeing the spot in a grove of red cedars, commissioner Christopher Cooper said, "This is the place." The cedars gave the place its name, Lebanon, a reminder of the Biblical land of the cedars. On Nov. 23, 1819, the City of Lebanon was officially incorporated. Cedars of
Lebanon State Park is just up the road from us. We couldn’t stay in the Park because there is a two week limit, and they don’t have full facilities such as we have at Shady Acres.

The other day Carolyn was rummaging in the pantry for a can of something-or-another and one of those cans of something-or-another fell out an banged her on her implanted knee. “Oh, she says, “that smarts!” Right. Well, you know me, it doesn’t take much to stimulate my “Hum, I wonder how we came to use ‘smart’ in that way?” curiosity. That sent me to my favorite word source, Evan Morris, The Word Detective. So if you have nothing else better to do than to read some of my nonsense, I might as well share with you what I found. Which is:

It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that “smart” (learned) and “smart” (pain) are actually two different words from unrelated sources. English is full of such homonyms, words spelled (and often pronounced) the same but with different meanings and different origins.

“Smart,” however, is one of those cases where the two primary senses, even though they seem hard to connect to each other, share a common origin. “Smart” meaning “hurt” is actually the grandparent of “smart” meaning “on the ball.” It’s the same word.

The source of “smart” is the prehistoric Germanic root word “smert,” which meant “to be painful; to hurt,” and which eventually produced our modern English “smart.” As a verb, “to smart” has always meant “to hurt,” usually literally, although later uses have invoked the word in a figurative sense (”The fact that it was his own mother who fingered him to the IRS was what really smarted”).

It was when “smart” the verb begat “smart” the adjective that things really started to get interesting. The earliest use of “smart” as an adjective was to mean literally “causing pain, stinging,” as one might speak of a “smart” lash with a whip. But by around 1300, “smart” was also being applied figuratively to “sharp” or “cutting” remarks (”He seldom failed of a smart word or two upon my littleness,” Swift, 1726). This led to “smart” being used to mean “strong, quick, intense” in manner, which led, by the 17th century, to the word being used to mean “clever,” “witty” or “knowledgeable.” The sense of “smart” people being quick, witty and fashionable led shortly thereafter to the use of “smart” to also mean “neatly attired” and “trim.”

Now aren’t you glad you learned that. Now you are so smart you know all about what it means “to smart.” You have already discovered that I am a philologist. It is from the Greek. “Philo” = “love“, and “logos” = “word.” So a philologist is a lover of words and human speech. You gotta love our language, it is so varied and intriguing. Don’t you think?

You are probably no different than we in receiving e-mail forwards from family and friends. Some, I find of such interest that I feel compelled to share on the blog. You will note the second picture above. Do you recognize the subject. It is an albino moose that was found wandering the woods in the upper peninsula of Michigan. To see one has to be rare. But look at the next photo. What are the chances of seeing two albinos together. It has to be astronomical.

The fourth photo shows such ingenuity that you just have to pause and applaud the guy who thought this one up. What to do if you don’t have a spare wheel. Would you have come up with this idea. Truly, a Mr. Fixit!

The last picture is just to test your depth of perception. It is a microscopic view of something familiar. Of course, you would recognize it. Yeah, you got it. Its toilet paper. Of course you would know that the Chinese first used toilet paper made of rice straw more than 1,400 years ago. Finally, in 1857, Joseph Gayetty introduced the first packaged toilet tissue, which proved to be more convenient than the previously common practice of using The Old Farmer’s Almanac. (In the almanac’s defense, it did have a hole in it for easy toilet-side hanging.) Nowadays, a roll made up of all the toilet paper Americans use in a year would stretch about 300 million miles—more than three times the distance between Earth and the sun.

Now why am I obsessing about toilet paper? I am sure that most of you (at least those in our age group) have had a colonoscopy. That is what I am facing this coming Wednesday morning. And that, is the “end” of the matter.

Since we have had to cancel our second tour in the Okefenokee Swamp (scheduled from Oct. through Dec.) we are returning to Fort Yargo until the end of the year, before we head farther south. The next time we catch up with you we’ll be back in Georgia.

As indicated by the title of this edition, this is the 70th time I have blogged during our sojourn in our ’mobile condo.” So far, about 80,000 words. It makes me tired just to think about it. These additions have also included around 300 pictures. As long as you out there are interested in what we have to share, we will keep doing it. You will let me know if you get tired of it, won’t you?



Heritage makes the person; Attitude makes the life.

Tennessee Knee

(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)

As you know from last time, we headed to Tennessee for Carolyn’s new knee. The trip was uneventful. We arrived at the campground sometime around noon. The site we occupied in June was taken by someone else so we looked around the same area to see if a suitable site was available. We settled on a site two spaces from our previous site. Bad choice, as it turned out.

As I pulled the RV into the site I was careful to watch things on the right and left that I might run into. That is when bad things started to happen. I wasn’t paying close attention to what was above the RV. In this case, a tree limb. Although I didn’t hear the limb hitting the RV, Carolyn told me it was scraping the top of the trailer. We decided it wasn’t going to work in this spot so, we left the trailer as it was and began searching for another.

We walked up the hill to a new section of the campground to find a spot. We found a suitably long and wide space with no large trees. I retrieved the fifth-wheel from the previous location and headed up the hill. We got the trailer in position, leveled it and began putting the support feet down. It was sometime during this process that I glanced at the roof. Uh oh! What I saw I didn’t like. The tree limb I encountered had ripped apart a section of the rubberized roof covering. I climbed onto the roof to inspect it and found a section about three feet long with uneven rips exposing the aluminum top. Not a good thing. Now, I thought, I’m really “in a pickle.”

In the process of setting up we met our new neighbor, Dean. One never knows whom one might pull next to in an RV Park. What I saw was a guy with a drink in one hand, a cigarette in the other, a shaved head, tattoos on the arms and a Harley motorcycle parked by the trailer. Now you know how first impressions are. He introduced himself and asked if we needed any help. We said, “No thanks, we can handle it.” As I was hooking up the waterline, he asked if we needed anything. I had noticed that we had forgotten our double-hose connection and water pressure reducer when we left Georgia. Not expecting a response, I said, “I could really use a pressure reducer to replace the one I left.” To my surprise he said, “I have an extra one. I’ll give it to you.” And he did! He wouldn’t accept any money for it.

About the time we finished setting up, he said, “You have been working hard. Would you like to join us for lunch? We have plenty.” Again we declined his generous offer. We had a lite bit to eat of our own. A little later, we were surveying the damage to our roof when Dean came over to look. “I have to get this fixed somehow before it rains again,” I remarked.

“Ted,” another neighbor across the road, “has some roofing material like that. He’ll give you a piece,” Dean said. Ted (another motorcycle guy) came and looked at the situation, cut a three-foot piece of material and gave it to me. I accepted his gift and repaired the roof all in the same day.

Before the day was out, Dean asked how long we were going to be here. “Maybe into November,” we told him. “Well,” he said, “if you’ll be here in cold weather you need some heater wire for your water hose to keep it from freezing. Do you have any?” “No,” I said. “Well,” he says, “I have a new 50 foot one I’ll give you.” And again, he did! No charge.

Dean likes to cook. He asked if we liked slaw. We told him we did. He said he made a good spicy recipe and if we would like he would give us some. We accepted and found it to be one of the best we have ever tasted. Now, since he shared his recipe with us, we make it for ourselves. All of this just goes to show you that the old adage, “You can’t judge a book by its cover” we found to be true. A nicer guy you would not meet, tattoos and all.

The first picture you see above is of the Office at Shady Acres. The next picture is a view up the hill where we are parked. You can spot our trailer by the large antennas at the back. You will also notice that the trailer on the left has a deck built on the side (or front, as it were). A lot of people are having to live in their RV due to tough economic times. This is the case with Dean, who recently got a divorce and lost his house to the bank.

The third photo shows our trailer in its current spot. You may notice the section on the top, front, just above the outside light, that is a little lighter in color than the rest of the roof. That is the patch. So far, it is holding against the rain, and we have had lots of rain as have many in the southeast.

Let me get back to the reason we are now in Tennessee, to get Carolyn a new right knee. She was looking toward an September 9th date for surgery. After we arrived, she found that the 9th would not work in the schedule due to some priority re-construction surgeries that bumped her to a later date. The surgery took place on the 23rd. The surgery went well and she had a three-day stay in a private room in a new hospital tower at Sumner Regional Medical Center in Gallatin, TN. This is some 25 miles from where we are staying in Lebanon, TN.

The fourth picture above may seem a little odd. It is a view of the lighted-mural that is above the bed in the hospital room. One can lie in the bed and seem to be looking up through the trees on a bright sunny day. Something to lift the spirit. The last picture is Carolyn in her bed on the second day, feeling well enough to be on the computer.

The little box you see at the foot of the bed with cables leading out is a cold-compression machine. This is wrapped around the knee to deliver a constant 49 degree coolness and a cycling compression, worn 24/7. This is designed to help with pain management and to relieve swelling associated with the surgery. This, she brought home with her and is still wearing it. She will use it for a couple weeks.

Surgery was on a Wednesday. The following Monday she began physical therapy. She is to do three hours a week for awhile. How long, we are not sure. The bottom line is that one week after surgery and after just two hours of therapy, she has exceeded the expectations of recovery and is now walking about at home without the aid of a walker or cane. Pain? Yes. Difficult? Yes. Grateful for pain pills? Yes. Looking forward to pain-free walking in the near future? Yes.

Our moving around schedule has changed somewhat so we are not sure how long we will be here, but it looks like we will have to cancel some planned activities for now. The thinking is that we will be where we are until sometime into November. When exactly, we’re not sure. We’ll let you know about that later.

As a closing note, remember that phrase I used above, “to be in a pickle.” Those of us who are native English speakers know what it means, but have you ever wondered where the expression came from. How does one get into a “pickle.?” The English word is derived from an old Dutch word, “pekel,” meaning “brine.” In the distant past foods were preserved by use of salt and sugar mixed into an acid water called brine. The word “pickle” was first use to mean briny water. One of the things commonly pickled is cucumbers, which we now call pickles. One who found oneself in a unwanted, awkward, difficult situation was likened to being dunked in a smelly, unpleasant brine water. Not a good place to be. Though “pickle” no longer is understood as “brine,” the meaning stuck.

So, try not to get yourself in a pickle. Until next time.

Heritage makes the person; Attitude makes the life.