You Don't Forget

All of you folks who find it amazing, peculiar, funny, odd, (choose your own word) that a bunch of women got groped decades ago and "just now remembered" - this is for you.

Those women didn't "just now remember". They NEVER forgot. They got past it and got on with their lives. In most cases the damage wasn't irreparable. By irreparable, I  mean they didn't develop a deep-seated fear and mistrust of men in general.

How do I know? I was groped. Abused. Harassed. By the man who signed my paychecks. Not rich and powerful on the scale of a Donald Trump, but in comparison to me, yes he was rich and powerful.  Did I go to the police? No. I didn't. I went to my mother. His business partner was also aware of the situation because I often called him to ask him to come in to the office so I wouldn't be left alone in the office with my abuser.

I thought about filing a sexual harassment suit, but this was in the late 70s and my mother (a wise and sensible woman) advised against it. The reason was that if I did file the suit, I would be dragged through the mud. She also pointed out how difficult it would be for me to find another job. Indeed, it would have been hard to remain anonymous in Lorain County, Ohio.

So I kept my mouth shut and got on with my life. In fact, I moved far away to Texas and never looked back. But I NEVER forgot. EVER. And let me tell you, if I heard that SOB was running for office, I would be talking to the media and it would not matter to me that it happened over 35 years ago.

The Highbrow Eyebrow

After having my eyelids burned by the people in the nail salons, I decided never to let them near my eyes with hot wax ever again.

Instead, I now go to the Benefit Brow Bar. I'm not sure if they have one everywhere they sell Benefit Cosmetics, but they have one at the Ulta store where I have my hair cut these days.

They charge a bit more than the nail salon, but it's worth a little extra money not to have your eyelids burned.

Let me tell you, those gals at Benefit are well-trained. They have sticks they use to measure from the edge of your nose to the edge of your eyebrow. Then they measure from the edge of your nose to determine where your eyebrow is supposed to start. There's another measurement for the arch. Very much like this drawing. (Courtesy of Cosmopolitan.)

When they are all done measuring, they have essentially drawn in where your eyebrows are "supposed" to be. One day, after drawing them in, the young lady announced to me that she would only be waxing "outside" the lines. I almost laughed. That just wasn't going to do. There wasn't anything to wax outside those lines. I pointed that out and she told me that those lines were where my eyebrows were "supposed" to be.

"It doesn't matter where they are supposed to be, we should work with what we have."

I really don't want to draw them on, no matter how popular that seems at the moment. (Had a gal at a cosmetics counter in Macy's decide that my lips were too thin once and so she drew them on where she thought they should be. Sorry, you're not fooling anyone and I couldn't wait to get into the lady's room to wash it off.)

In fact, drawing them on and filling them in where they are "supposed" to be has become quite popular. I see cashiers, waitresses, and all sorts of people drawing on eyebrows. There was even a guy working at one of the campgrounds where we stayed who had drawn on eyebrows. Add a red nose and he'd have been a very menacing clown - which was a shame because he seemed like a genuinely nice guy and not scary at all.

That aside, I don't know how my eyebrows got "thin". Maybe I over-tweezed as a teenager. Very thin eyebrows were popular then. Maybe they thinned out as I got older. Who knows? All I can tell you is that I don't have those really thick eyebrows that are quite the rage these days. I may have had them as a kid, although I doubt it. But I don't have them now and it's not likely I ever will. And I don't think they'll ever be any thicker than this. And that's okay.

One Thing at a Time

Lately I've been seeing an advert on Facebook for a tee shirt that says "Everything Hurts and I'm Dying." I laughed. I realize it's intended for people who seriously work out - not for people who are suffering the onset of "older" age. But it seemed appropriate, at least until I thought about it.

After some thought, I've come to the conclusion that it just isn't true. Can't be true. Only one thing can hurt at a time. Before we left for Kentucky, my knee hurt. It hurt enough to get me to go to three doctors and get an MRI. But once my tooth started hurting, my knee was fine.

In fact the more my tooth throbbed, the better my knee felt. When anyone asked me what the outcome of the knee specialist visit was it was very easy to say "He said I needed a knee replacement. Can you believe it?  Am I walking around like someone with a bad knee?" And the truth was that it seemed fine and it didn't hurt. The more that tooth throbbed, the better that knee felt.

But the antibiotics finally started kicking in and now I've had the root canal and the crown has been placed and I've recovered from that accidental kick to the jaw (a story best left untold) and now my knee hurts. Again.

Except when I'm distracted by the fact that it's time to get my hair cut...

A Near CATastrophe!

Since we decided to take our cats camping with us, we've always been aware that we could lose one, or both. We've done our best to make sure that doesn't happen. We've probably erred on the side of caution and kept them more confined than we should have.

They are family and we love them. We have two. Heidi has been with us for 11 years - before we got married. She turned up in our garage giving birth to Hefner - my baby and animal soul mate who blessed us with his presence for eight years before we lost him to cancer. Harry has been with us for two years. We rescued him to ease the pain of losing Heffie. Bottom line, they are both our babies and we can't bear to lose either of them.

However, Heidi presents unique challenges. She is fiercely independent. Perhaps defiant. Definitely clever. I fuss at Mark about keeping the RV door closed. "She's not even making a move toward the door."

"Not now. But she will." And she does. At least once per trip. She escapes the confines of the RV to go outside exploring. So does Harry. The primary difference is that when you tell Harry to go back inside, he goes. Try telling it to Heidi. She doesn't care what you say. I don't know what her life was like before she turned up in our garage hissing at us - but I'm pretty sure it didn't involve much interaction with people. And if it did, I suspect the people may not have been nice to her.

Past aside. I'm pretty good at keeping an eye on them. I make sure that I'm aware of where they are and that the door is secure. Sometimes they take advantage of me being a bit slow and faltering while carrying stuff on the stairs. They get out. Harry goes back in. Heidi tries my patience. I've worried that she'll get us thrown out of a campground because she's been outside whining all night.

But not this last time. We didn't even know they'd gone out. I went to sleep sometime around 11:30 PM and everyone was inside. Mark woke up sometime around 3:00 AM and both Heidi and Harry had gone outside. We can't even imagine how they got the door open. We suspect that it may have been jarred out of place by some horrible road conditions and that while we thought it was closed, it actually wasn't. We really don't know. We only know that at 3:00 AM in North Little Rock, Arkansas - Heidi and Harry were outside the camper. The difference between the two was that Harry was sitting outside the door and came back in when told to and Heidi was nowhere to be found.

Mark got me up at 3:00 AM and we started our search for Heidi. Always in the past when we called to her, she would answer. Not this time. And since we hadn't seen her go, we had no idea where to look for her. While we couldn't call too loudly at 3:00 AM, we called softly and kept vigil inside and out waiting for her to return. We'd wanted to leave around 8:00 AM. That didn't happen. We continued to search for her until we were forced to leave.

Let me tell you, it broke our hearts to leave her. Even little Harry was devastated. I wavered between heartbreak and anger. I just knew that she was hiding and watching and refusing to come out for reasons known only to Heidi. She is not a reasonable cat.

In the end, we headed for home without her. We were both concerned. But we needed to get a payroll out and the direct debit hadn't been set up yet. In addition, we both had doctor and dentists appointments that needed to be tended to. We printed out a poster offering a monetary reward for her safe return and hoped for the best because we both knew that we could stay there waiting for three weeks or more and she may or may not have turned up.

Her picture flooded social media. PawBoost sent her info to about 65 shelters and vets in the immediate area. I called our vet to get her chip number so that could be added to the alert. My daughter-in-law took charge of the media effort and really helped get the word out that Heidi was missing.

I called the campground every day to see if anyone had spotted her. The answer was always the same. No. Until Wednesday morning. When I called on Wednesday morning to say that we were on our way back and we wanted site B1, the same spot we'd been in on Friday, I was told that she'd been seen the night before.

I was always optimistic that we'd get her back. But I was elated at that news. So you can imagine how disappointed I was when we arrived and she didn't come flying into my arms. We both called to her as we set up camp. We were prepared to stay for a month, if need be to find her and bring her home.

My faith and optimism were rewarded! After a few hours of being at the campsite, we heard her. She was hungry and while she was playing hard to get, it wasn't that hard to get her. She wanted the food that I was offering but she wanted the cuddles Mark always gives her. I think he grabbed the scruff of her neck on her third pass by his legs.

We had our baby back. The following day we took her to a local vet to make sure she didn't need extra help rehydrating. She didn't. While she'd lost a couple of pounds, they did seem surprised when we said she was 11. Apparently she looks pretty good for her age! (I like to think she takes after me....)

We hung out there in Little Rock for another day just because we didn't want to get there, turn around and drive back home.

We are all back home now. Mark and I are happy to have her home. Harry is back to being himself - he missed her terribly. And most of all, Heidi seems happy to be home. We know we were extremely fortunate to get her back unharmed.

Phew!

That'll Be Seven Dollars

American Wilderness Campground. A Good Sam member - not sure why. Most of the Good Sam parks we've stayed at have been nicer than this. They advertise themselves as being the closest campground to Cleveland. Really?? I think I might be able to find some closer, but I took their word for it. I remember this place from when I was a teenager. Sort of. At that time, it was pretty much an open field - not much in the way of hookups, but that was okay, camping was different in those days. (No glamping!) It was in Belden - nothing much there then, nothing much there now. I overheard my next door neighbor on the phone complaining to whoever was on the other end - "it's too much for what you get". And it is. It looks like they made an attempt at landscaping and then decided it would be too much trouble. Belden is a good location for me because most of my family and friends live in Wellington, Grafton, Elyria, Sullivan and Medina. It's relatively convenient, but I'm sure other places could be just as convenient. The other problem is that they say it's full hook ups, but it isn't. No sewer. Although they will send a truck around to pump your RV for $20. That's NOT a full hookup. That's nickel and diming you to death.

Anyway, aside from that small detail, I should have known there was another problem when my sister-in-law and I went out for a manicure and she tried to drop me off. They wouldn't let us drive the car in unless she registered with the office first. She needed to get home to make lunch for my brother before he left for work. No time to register . I told her I'd walk. No problem. Fortunately Mark and I were parked fairly near the gate. If I'd had to walk to the far reaches of the campground, I would have been very unhappy. Very unhappy indeed.

But then the next day, one of my cousins wanted to come by to visit. I gave her the site number. When she got there, THEY WANTED HER TO PAY SEVEN DOLLARS!!! Now, it's not that seven dollars is going to break anybody. But whatever for? (I sort of know. They have a swimming lake and most of the people who stay there are relatively local. They need a way to stop somebody from inviting every child in their neighborhood to stop by for a swim at no charge. I get that. But charging a woman over 50 with no children in the car after 6 PM in September is not the solution to their problem. They only irritate people doing that kind of thing. They've irritated me enough that I'll never go back.

Nonetheless, she only wanted to visit for about an hour and seven dollars seemed a bit steep. The woman at the desk made her a deal, they offered to give her an hour at no charge, but they took her driver's license and held it hostage. Not thinking about it much at the time, she complied. (It's not in my family's nature to be suspicious.) But then, to make it worse, when it got to be 45 minutes, the girl at the desk decided it was time to go home and gave my cousin's driver's license to a guy who said he was "going right by there." So now, her license, with her name, address and social security number has been in the possession of two complete and total strangers. By this time she's seeing the problem with this. So was I. They'd just better hope that there are no identity theft attempts on her account because it would be really easy to hold American Wilderness responsible.

I've just got to say that we were completely put off by their "security". All they are really concerned with is someone using their swimming hole. It's not that good. Plenty of other places you can swim at no charge. We have paid less than this for really nice sites - landscaped with plants rather than crabgrass and assorted weeds - no hassles for visitors, and close to amenities like restaurants. We won't be staying at American Wilderness again.

Between Cincinnati and Columbus

The stretch of road called Interstate 71 between Cincinnati and Columbus has to be the roughest stretch of road in the country. To say it was rough is an understatement.

People of Ohio!! What is wrong with you?? This is not a highway. This is a ticket to disaster. I can't begin to tell you the things that went wrong with our vehicle after driving on this stretch of road.

I liked John Kasich in the primary, but if this is his idea of highway maintenance, I'm glad the rest of the country has been spared.

I still want to see my family and friends in northern Ohio. HOWEVER, I will be seeking an alternative route. No more I-71 for me - especially between Cincy and Columbus. Indescribably horrible!!

I blame this stretch of road for thousands of dollars of repairs to our vehicle. Not to mention the door jamb on our RV that was probably loosened by this very piece of road and encouraged our Heidi to run for it. Horrible. Horrible. Shame on you, Ohio.

The Great Canoe Rescue

Paddling on a river is so different from paddling in the ocean or in a swamp. This was the first time we'd paddled on a river for years. We paddled on the Green River - not sure if it's the same Green River that CCR was singing about but it was pleasant and peaceful - up until we found the one place on that river where you could wreck a canoe.

No wrecks here!

Not here either.

Paddling into a cave.

Calm flat water

We didn't wreck our canoe, or even tip it over. But we turned a bend there were two women, one middle-aged and the other a bit older who were standing in the water holding onto their broken canoe. It was too deep and swift for them to exit on either side, plus there was so much growth on either side of the steep banks that it would have been a struggle for them to get anywhere even if they did get out. And if they did get out, where would they go?

They'd left their phones in their car so there was no way to phone the canoe rental company or anybody else. They had no idea how far away they were from the take-out. (Neither did we.)

But they had prayed for help and we turned up. Since we were actually inside Mammoth Cave National Park, I tried phoning the Park Rangers. I got Voicemail. Next, I phoned 911. I couldn't really tell them where I was so I asked them to ping my phone for coordinates. They were able to do that and after checking on injuries - there were none - she told me she'd get the Park Rangers on their way.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 15 minutes, Mark called back and let the 911 operator know that while there weren't any injuries at the moment, that could all change, if they didn't get them out of the water soon.

We were assured that they were on the way. It wasn't too long until we heard a boat motor. The Cavalry was coming! I wanted to take photos of the rescue, but I had to help paddle so we wouldn't wreck our canoe. But here are a few...

Not a Fan

Everyone said you have to do the Kentucky Bourbon Trail. I never felt like I had to because I don't actually like Bourbon. They told me the same thing about Dublin and Guiness. I don't need to pay for a tour that includes tasting something I'm pretty sure I won't like. But this time, everyone else was up for it, so I was happy to go.

One friend had been singing the praises of Maker's Mark so we decided to go there. The grounds were lovely. They even had a ceiling that had been done by Chihuly, especially for them.

It was interesting to see how they take the different grains and make them into bourbon. They did spend a bit of time talking about what differentiates bourbon from whiskey. (I've got to say that the distinction still eludes me.)

And after you went through the entire process, at the end of the tour they gave you some to sample. I took a sip of each - a very small sip. Then I let Mark have the rest of it because I am not actually a fan of Bourbon - but I'm glad we went.

Diamond Cave

We didn't want to go to Mammoth Cave because we'd been there before and the tours can be quite long and a bit strenuous. So we opted to go to Diamond Cavern instead.

I didn't really understand why you couldn't take your backpack or handbag inside the cave. But I didn't dare ask because the guy behind the counter probably wouldn't have told me anyway. He was that kind of guy. He will never win the Mr. Congeniality award.

Thankfully, our tour guide was lovely. (It was a group of retirees and nobody moved all that fast. Think about it, it's downhill - steps and downhill paths combined with bad knees, and bad ankles. It had been raining and while you might think that it doesn't rain inside the cave, think again. The water soaks through the ground and into the cave. So it was a bit slippery in places.Then when you get as far as you can go, you turn around and start going uphill.

The tour of this cave only lasted about an hour - which was about right for us. The formations were beautiful and it was well lit so I got some really good photos.

You can really see the effect of the rain in this one.

Curly

I always get the horse that misbehaves. Always. My horse will be the one that refuses to cross the half-foot wide stream. They instinctively know that they are in charge and I am not. Curly was no exception. The horses on this trail ride mostly walked nose to tail. Except for Curly. I suspect he didn't like to be behind Buddy. Mark said Buddy was a delightful little horse. Curly was a known slacker.

While we were waiting for our horse "assignments", the stable owner asked who felt comfortable kicking a horse. No one came forward. At least one person (not me) argued that they would never kick a horse. I assure you, kicking horses - or any living creature - is not something I typically do.

So when the stable owner pointed at me, I had to ask "Do I look like someone who kicks horses?"

"No, but you look like someone who won't argue with me." (How did that happen??) But I do try to stay out of arguments when I know nothing about the subject. Horses fall into that category.

So there I was on Curly. It seemed I had a bit of extra equipment that the others didn't have. I had a leather strap. I was shown how to give Curly a little pop on his underbelly to make him pick up the pace. He did tend to get a bit behind. Giving him a little "kick" didn't seem to have much effect. But much to my surprise, when I picked up the strap, Curly took off and caught up with Buddy. I didn't even have to give him a pop.

The problem was that after the first 15 minutes, Curly realized that I wasn't really going to use that strap and he started slacking again. In the end I talked to Curly, poked him with my heels, and pretended like I was going to use the strap in order to cajole him into catching up to Buddy.

I wasn't particularly hard on him because I know what it's like to be rushed. I don't like it. I bet Curly doesn't like it either.