September 26, 2007
Our walk began at predawn today because now the sun is starting the day after we begin ours. The pasture and forest were quiet since the night creatures had gone back into hiding and the day creatures were waiting for sunrise. Three quarters of the way through the walk, I saw some white that didn’t appear to be plant life – it was some distance away over the fence and across the stream and I stopped to look intently. Almost immediately, five deer sprang into life and ran south into a plum copse to hide out of my sight. Then, right overhead, two great horned owls left their perch as well, so I assume that when we are out walking, there are many creatures monitoring our progress and aware of every step we take. Alphie seems fairly oblivious to deer, though he will give chase if they are close enough. I don’t think he even noticed any of the above this morning. He does point at pheasants and quail from fairly large distances, and then leaps through the grasses to send them flying out in all directions – Charles feels that it must be an ongoing disappointment that we don’t fling guns to our shoulders and begin to shoot since it is evident that this dog was bred to be a hunter of game birds.
In this beautiful September, our fall asters have determined to be the centerpieces of our yard. All of them are wild, and came up at their own discretion, so hidden beneath them in the flower beds are resigned sedum, marigolds, and various other plants likely wishing that these interlopers would fall down and expire. We are delighted at the exuberance and color, and bees, moths and butterflies are also enjoying the blooms while they last.
My white blood cells held on this week, so continued days of delight and no therapies. Next Tuesday is the day of the bone marrow aspiration, so there will be more information about what is happening after the marrow is sent to the Med Center in Omaha and analyzed. Every time I go into the Internet and check out the information about MDS again, it tells a rather grim story, but perhaps one day soon my trajectory will become the rule rather than the singular event it appears to be at this time. I have now had MDS for one year and nine months, and today I can say once again, “Life is good, Hallelujah!”