The Infamous Christmas Letter from Klep and Barbara

Merry Christmas 2017 from the Klepper House!

We are so thankful to celebrate this season and to spend time reflecting on what has passed since we last wished each of you Merry Christmas.  The highlights of our year are time spent with our family, seeing our children as adults, and watching our granddaughters transition from young children to more mature girls.  Other wonderful experiences have been intermixed with these.

As Christmas 2017 rapidly approaches, we find ourselves still pretty much involved with my (Barbara’s) recovery from bilateral knee replacement. I was the one who had the surgery, but Klep’s life has been very involved with the whole experience as he has acted as caretaker, encourager, and all around major supporter.   Although we have forgone many of the elements of a normal Christmas season for us, we celebrate the spirit of Christmas and the reason for it in our hearts.

This year we managed to put a few miles on the old knees I had replaced.  Many moments stand out as highlights this year as we have tried to relish this wonderful thing known as life.  Klep has published several genealogical articles in Distant Crossroads and I completed the rough draft of a novel which will probably never be read by anyone other than me! Small events and large have been sprinkled through the year beginning with a lovely cool day late in January which we spent  at St. Marks Wildlife Preserve on a birding excursion.

 We took an overnight trip close to home

in early February to visit the Okeefeenokee Swamp and Sapelo Island in Georgia, both places which are rich in wildlife and old Southern beauty.

March found us at home most of the time preparing for New Hope’s annual Share Day when we share things with the community and each other.  We were also preparing for our spring trek to the house in Winegar Hollow where we enjoyed time spent with relatives and friends.  Many of the spring flowers did not wait for us, but we still enjoyed those that did.  We especially enjoyed sharing the history of Klep’s family with

a couple of cousins from the next generation who had not heard a lot of the old stories nor seen a lot of the old landmarks.

May came in with another Jasper High School Class of 1960 reunion and proceeded with all the early summer activities.   June we worked crafts at VBS. 

July saw us celebrate my 75^th, the diamond birthday, with a trip of a lifetime from Budapest to Bucharest on a Viking River Cruise.  For those who follow our blog, you have probably read more about that than you want to!  We feel truly blessed to have had the experience.

August we traveled to the Eclipse Zone to enjoy the solar eclipse with some of our Klepper cousins.

September was dominated with waiting for Irma, going through Irma, cleaning up after Irma and watching the power crews  as they got the electricity restored.  By the time she reached us, much of her strength was gone, but we did have from Monday morning to Thursday afternoon with no electricity.  We were blessed with a cool spell which moved in so that the heat was not uncomfortable.

October we enjoyed the Hollow House again and took a side trip up to Gettysburg and Lancaster County Pennsylvania on a genealogy

trip for Klep.  We had not been to this region since the seventies and we could hardly believe how some of it has changed.  When we got off the main highways, though, we found the same serene farmland.

November and surgery time rolled around way too quickly.  We have been in rehab/recovery mode with little instances of normalcy scattered in.  We look forward to the New Year and renewed mobility without pain. 

We wish you all the merriest of Christmases and a most fulfilling 2018!

Recovery Headed Toward Six Weeks

The Five Week Report……And Almost Six!

I am not out walking around the yard nor am I back to doing the much needed housework.  The Christmas tree is not up and the baking has not been done.  Things are starting to look up as I pass the five week milestone since bilateral knee replacement.  This did not get posted due to our internet which decided to slow down last week.  I think it must have had surgery also!

Wednesday after a good PT session, we went to Dr. Bearden’s office for my check up.  He gave the knees a good working out and pronounced everything good, answering many of the questions that I had about the way the legs and feet were feeling as normal under the circumstances.  After being thoroughly x-rayed, I was pronounced “cane ready” which made me very happy.

We procured the said quad pronged cane, and I walked back to the car using it.  I had thought that there might be times I would be more secure feeling using the walker, but so far it has stayed at the same place we put it Wednesday evening.  I even find occasionally that I am stepping out and forgetting the cane, but I am far from striding quickly and confidently across a room!

I feel that I look very laborious and awkward with the cane, but Klep told me that I actually was moving better than I had most of the time before the surgery.  Anyway, it gives me hope that I will soon be through this whole recuperative period.

We are continuing to get out a little more and a little more.  Even when I am not comfortable, it is good to stretch myself and the doctor encouraged me to push through this with as much determination as possible.  We enjoyed joining our NARFE friends for a Christmas lunch yesterday and tonight we will meet Rob and Traci for supper out.  Sunday it was good to enjoy seeing the young people’s drama at church, but there are still limitations that friends often do not understand.  I am not sure enough on my feet to be crowded in by fast moving people nor do I need to contend with tables with hidden supports or other non-sensitive legs surrounding mine.  It would not be a good thing for me to land on my knees for any reason right now.

I am so thankful for all Klep has done l to get me get to this stage.  It brought pleasure to me that I could pour a cup of coffee for him this morning.  One night this week, I even prepared a little simple supper and I did most of Sunday lunch. 

I am also thankful for the whole PT crew that pushes me through during each session even though I will never like some of the exercises that I have to do to get through the interminable list!

I am, most of all thankful to God who built my body and who has taken me through the gloomy, discouraging recovery times when the discomfort was a little intense!

I am thankful for the emails I get from a friend in Virginia who has been through knee replacement this last year who has helped me to understand what I am going through when I hit some rough patches like to being able to sleep.  The cards and notes from other friends have helped also.

So, we press on.  I am learning to make peace with the state of the house.  It really isn’t all that bad, but as you all know, we each have different priorities.  For example, my pantry has never been so well organized as it is now as is the linen closet and my cabinets.  I must admit though, Klep is becoming quite the cook!  His pecan pie, baked for the luncheon Thursday was absolutely superb!

We enjoyed our Anne’s visit this weekend and she pitched in around the house which both Klep and I appreciated!

I wonder what improvement the rest week 6 will bring as we hurtle toward Christmas Week.

Week 4: PT, Forays Out, Slow Progress

Yesterday was one of those days.  You know what I mean!  It was one of those days when no major problems occur, but little things which nibble at the edge of joy happened.  We were headed to Valdosta for PT session right on schedule.  I surrendered the walker to Klep at the top of the back steps, came down the steps carefully, retrieved the walker and proceeded to the car.  Klep locked the back door and followed to the car where I settled into the seat carefully and waited while he folded up the walker and went to the driver's seat.  He could not find his keys.  We knew he had had them.  He locked the door.

My keys, of course, are somewhere in the tightly locked up house.  Eventually, fifteen minutes or so later, after searching, he found them and we were on our way.  We made it just a few minutes late.

The PT session was good, but tiring as usual.  I now start off with ten minutes on the stationary bike, followed by a whole lot of other exercises before knee angle measuring time.  The knees did well with a 115 and 116 degree bend on them.  The left is still slightly outperforming the right.  I had my ice down/stimulator time and we were on our way through the light rain to lunch.

We try to find a restaurant that is easy to get into and out.  In this, they are not all created equal.  We ended up at Wooden Nichol yesterday.  Eating out is a way of adding a little normal to a pretty confined life at this point.  After checking my phone while we waited for our order, I asked Klep to remind me not to forget it.  I should have put it back in my bag then.  I next thought of it an hour later after I was home.  It is residing safely in the restaurant safe until we return to Valdosta tomorrow for the next PT session.

I cautioned Klep as he left to go out to the church to help the secretary with the bulletin for next Sunday.  I think we were both looking for the third thing to go wrong.  I find this morning that my niece Pam stepped in a hole and sprang her ankle.  I guess that was it!

Anyway, I suppose I am progressing.  I was hoping that I might start getting off the walker this week, but it isn't going to happen.  It would be nice if I had a time table that would tell me when everything will happen.

So, the fourth week begins with a cold, grey day.  Normally this day would be used to really get in gear for our Christmas open house.  That will not happen this year, but I trust that this time next year, we can look back on this as time well spent toward better movement for the rest of my life.

I continue to appreciate my caregiver.  I know he is probably as weary of all this as I, but he keeps a good spirit and he can cook a really good egg.

I pray that the Lord give me strength to keep as good a spirit as he has!

Week 3: Slow but Sure

Week 3 has come to a close since bilateral knee replacement.  Each day has its ups and downs, its high points, and its points of discomfort.

I am learning all over again how to deeply treasure things that I take lightly on a normal day:  four hours of good, solid sleep, moving around, the ability to get into the kitchen and make coffee.  The list goes on, and on!  Right now I am relishing being able to stand without holding on to anything for short periods of time.  Before long, I will transition from the walker, but right now it is very important that I not do anything that will bring on a fall.

My physical therapist Jill continues to be wonderful although she does require me to do some things which are less than comfortable.  Each time I go, I leave exhausted but also feeling better than when I got there.

Klep is thrilled that I am more capable now of taking care of many of my basic needs.  I can now get my own clothes and dress myself.  I am also able to slip into the kitchen in the early morning while he still sleeps and make coffee.]

Yesterday was a milestone at PT.  I actually really pedaled the bike and went for over half a mile according to the dials.  That will go a long way toward getting me back to full mobility.

We also stopped at Olive Garden for a late lunch/early supper and went in, sitting in a booth for a real meal.

My bending angles on both knees excellent for this stage of recovery.  I am over 100 degrees with both.

Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for the cards and well wishes.  I know all of this would have been easier if I had stayed on the prescription pain meds, but I so much prefer not being on them even when the discomfort gets a little difficult.  I keep remembering that old chorus, "Learning to Lean" and know that it will all pass and get better!

Week 2 of Recovery Draws to a Close

Today at physical therapy I threatened one of the workers with bodily harm when he grinned at me and said, "No pain; no gain."  I mean, no matter how right he is, there comes a point ever so often when I just want to really, really, really want all of this to get easier faster than it is going to!

Tomorrow marks the two weeks marker since surgery.  Everyone seems to be awfully, awfully pleased with the progress I am making, but when it is YOU whose every step with the walker is an effort and every exercise a pain, it is terribly, terribly, terribly hard not to put back the head and howl at the moon like an embittered wolf!

Okay, I have had my whine.  I was just supposed to feel ever so much better when the three thousand staples (a slight exaggeration, I admit!) were removed at post-op Monday afternoon.  I suppose, on some level, that I must admit that it is some better.

Over the weekend, I went off all opioids and am now relying on OTC pain control.  The negatives I was experiencing outweighed the benefits I was getting from them.  All of that is now out of my system.  My body, generally, is doing better now.  Klep is pleased that at last my nausea is gone and that I have a little more interest in food.

The bend in the knees is well ahead of what is expected at this point; I am able to totally straighten the legs.  Both of these are good, good things.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  I shall miss my sweet, sweet Karolina Kleppers, but I love them for sensing that Nana is just not quite herself this year!

Rob, Traci, and Anne will be here to help Klep deal with me!

I am so thankful that the first two weeks are behind me.  Please continue to pray for me to be able to sleep at night and to know that the dear young man is absolutely right when he encourages me to push through the pain.

I pray that your day tomorrow is filled with love and laughter, too much food, and hugs aplenty.
Happy Thanksgiving!

Journey From home to home

A week ago, we were settling into a long day.  I remember little of the ride up or the process of getting into the little short bed in the same day surgical suite where all surgery patients except emergencies pass through.  I recognized the voice of my intake med person when she first spoke as she started the process, the sister on one of church sisters.  She sounds so much like Bridgett!

After the usual, my visitors were shown in and I finally managed to get them to leave for lunch, when I transitioned to the holding pen where my doctor visited briefly before he headed off to lunch.  I was finally wheeled into the OR where we had old home week with those I knew, one a former student, one a KA brother of Kevin, and one, Aaron, the nurse who is my hero.  After the spinal, I got the stuff which changed my level of awareness to zero and spent the afternoon oblivious although, chatty, according to those others who were there.  Everything went well and I came to awareness in the recovery room. 

By the time I was wheeled up to my room in the fifth floor tower, the sun had long since left the sky.  Here, I was treated to some rubbery jelly of some ilk and some broth.  Food was not high on my priority as I entered the next phase of the journey.  It was too late to get me up.  I finally persuaded my sweet family to go home and A.J. the nurse and I began our evening.  I truly believe some people find their calling, and this young man has.  I would like to clone him.  He was not only attentive, but he listened to me and he gave good advice.  I was blessed with more good crews through Sunday.  By then we knew I would not make the departure time of Sunday afternoon because my blood pressure had a way of plummeting which was somewhat disconcerting to the pt staff……I am sure they had a horror of me, the fat old lady with the bilateral lying on the floor!  Anyway, by Sunday, sessions were getting better, blood pressure wise.

Monday I worked really hard, two hours morning and afternoon on the CPM machine which bends the need constantly as well as sessions of walking with the walker and going up and down steps.  Believe you me, I wanted to earn that trip home.  After all, Klep had installed a beautiful new handrail by the back steps and I needed to try it out!

Nurse Crotchet, finally got me rolling out in a rather non user friendly chair after I cooled my heels.  I am sure she was as glad to be rid of me as I was of her, but I do wish she had removed the IV port from my arm before I was discharged. Rob and Traci saw to my transition and trip up the steps with the lovely galvanized handrail.  I was soon chilling in my bed with the ice coolers circulating.

Tuesday I ate my one meal at the table, per doctor's instructions.  I did my exercises and walking.  Klep got me all situated and made a flying trip to Jasper to the CVS and back, tethered by the trusty cell device.  We are trying to keep to people in the house to a bare minimum.  What is a minor little bug to a healthy person is a bag deal to someone with a couple of knee replacements.  We love you all, but at a distance right now.

Body systems were finally on their way back to normal by Wednesday.  We made the first trip, bully clothed to PT.  Klep did errands while I worked with the therapist.  The time sitting upright, knees bent is difficult to say the least, but each time I do it, it will get easier.

Last night was a good night with one really long stretch of sleep.  After early morning meds, Klep even managed to have a lie in which he needed.

I am thankful for all of your prayers.  I feel the love and care of all of you.  I ask your patience as I take this time I have to do something which I find somewhat hard to do.....focus on myself and getting better.

I remember that I serve the Greatest Healer of All and that this will get better and better each day.

                                                                                                                                                

A Journey of a Different Kind

I have created a new word for what I have been doing for the last six weeks of my life: prehabilitation.  Of course this is not all I have been doing, but it has been my focus while I have been to Tennessee, South Carolina, and Pennsylvania.  I decided to blog about my upcoming bilateral knee replacement, but not to publish it until the day I went into the hospital.  I thought, perhaps that would be one way for me to be abstract my thinking about it instead of dealing in my imagination what it is going to be like to wake up with both of my knees forever changed and go through the pain of learning to do everything like get out of bed and get on my feet when the legs are going to be yelling, “No, no, no!  Go back to sleep and just stay there!  Dream!  But whatever you do, don’t move!”

I have not come to the decision to have both knees done at the same time easily.  In fact, I have not come to the decision to have even one of the knees done EASILY.  I have known for at least twenty years that the cartilage in the right knee was gone and I have been quite aware of the left knee now for eleven years, some days more than others.  I have pretty much had pain from them for some time, but I have lived with it, trying not to complain overly much and trying to do the same things I have always done.  Gradually, more and more things that I enjoyed doing or needed to do have been done less.  The first thing to go in 2006 was the three miles each morning on the treadmill.  Even at slow rates, I discovered after my recovery from the automobile accident of December 27, 2005, that even slow speeds on the treadmill hurt the left knee terribly.  When I went to see Dr. Aguerro with the problem, he gave me a shot of cortisone, explaining that I had probably torn the meniscus and that while I could have surgery for it that might not do away with the pain.  He also said that the pain would come and go.

At this time I already knew the right one was in bad shape and there was no quick and easy fix.  The shot helped and I got through that year in pretty good shape as I became a grandmother.  The next cortisone shot and the next spread out over a couple of years gave me a headache so severe that I said “To heck with that,” started not doing or walking as much as I would like and took the steps to my back door, one foot up and then the next, haltingly, much to my mother’s chagrin who told me that it grieved her to see me take the steps that way.  To save her feelings, in her presence, I bit my lower lip, straightened my shoulders and sucked it up.  Klep, bless him, had our steps rebuilt so that the rise was more manageable.

Last year, our trip to Ireland and England was wonderful.  We had agreed that I would do what I could comfortably before we went and I had the extra challenge of having ripped a toenail off my right foot and badly bruised my right hip in two separate freak accidents on the same day.  Once again, I made a choice to bite the bullet and keep going and I did, even the day in London when we found ourselves walking miles and doing flight after flight of stairs in the parliament building and various tube stations.  I came home with an infected toe but some good strong antibiotics cleared that up and by the bruise had started to fade from my thigh.

This year, we went on our dream river cruise on the Danube from Budapest to Bucharest.  Even though I had made peace with having a few activities that I could not do, I did not make peace with the fact that I felt I was limiting others, too.  When we got home, I knew that it was time to either know that the rest of my life was going to be severely limited in some ways or do something about it.

I had decided that I wanted to use a surgeon who had actually done someone’s knees that I knew.  Dr. Brook Bearden did the knees of one of my doctors and he had had a good recovery.  I had discussed this with him a year ago and gotten the name, but I had never followed up.  I did in late July of this year.  They had a cancellation on the 21^st of August, but that was the great eclipse.  The next appointment was September 11 and we all know what happened in Florida that day as Irma ripped up the state destroying power lines and creating havoc.  I was rescheduled for that Friday.

The appointment went well.  First I was examined by Aaron, the nurse practitioner and then both my legs were x-rayed every angle possible. Since this was not my first trip to an orthopedist, I had dressed appropriately for the occasion in a pair of white Bermuda’s, even though it was after Labor Day. (Forgive me, fashion police!)

After that, Dr. Bearden came in.  He showed me the e-rays and told me a lot of what I had known for years except now the cartilage is gone from both knees.  He also pointed out all the bone spurs, some quite spectacular in their size and we talked.  He said I was a good candidate for a bilateral if I wanted to go that way.  He went through all the pros and cons and the risks and the results that were likely.

He said that Aaron would call to get my final decision.  On Tuesday of the following week, we scheduled the surgery for November 9 at SGMC.  I went into the office on the first of November for pre-op and to the hospital the next day for the hospital pre-op.  Both appointments were sobering and picking up the walker that I will have to use during rehabilitation was even more sobering.  I was taken off all over the counter pain meds in preparation for the big day.  The week following once again convinced me that this was the right way to go.

I started my prehabilitation for the surgery when I decided to make the appointment.  I continued my pool exercises, but increased the duration of them.  I also, on the suggestion of my other doctor who has been through this, to added some muscle strengthening exercises I found on the internet .

After the appointment, during which Dr. Bearden wanted to know if I could walk a mile without getting short of breath, I decided I’d better find out.  I did.  I could.  I added that to my regimen. Each day until the pre-op appointment, I walked.

I discussed good vitamins for healing with my local pharmacist and added the ones he suggested to my regimen.  I also thought about losing ten pounds, but that did not happen!

I made the decision that I would not share this widely before the time I go into the hospital.  My decision was affirmed after I told a few close friends who were rather aghast that I would do a bilateral.  This is not something I want to do, but it is something that I feel I need to do.  With the Lord’s help, I will get through it.  I fear that if I do one at a time, the second one will never get done.  So, I press on.  I have spent some good time the last six weeks reminding myself of the promises of my God and focusing on those Bible Verses which have helped me in the past.

So later today, I will check into SGMC.  I will not take my laptop with me, so the next part of my journey will appear early next week.  I know better than to write while under the influence of strong pain meds and I plan to take what my doctor says I need!

I do ask you all to please pray for Klep as he sees me through this!

God's Thumbprint

Burke’s Garden, Virginia

Geographic anomalies fascinate my husband and fellow traveler, Klep who is a civil engineer both in temperament and in training.  When he recently read an article describing the high mountain valley known as Burke’s Garden, he put it on our day trip list for a future trip to Winegar Hollow.

The future arrived yesterday morning.  We awoke to a lovely late August day when a little October invaded August, a fine day for a mountain ramble which we started at the Hitching Post Diner

on Highway 11W near the turnoff for Stanley Valley Road where our cook was also waitress.  She operates the diner during the week, closing every day except Friday which is catfish day at three.  On catfish day her day is 17 hours long.  I can understand why she closes on the weekend!

After a fine East Tennessee breakfast including some of the finest biscuits we’ve had lately and some nicely cooked fried eggs, soft yellows, crispy on the edges whites, complimented with sausage gravy, we passed through the edge of Kingsport and over the Virginia line to Gate City where we, by chance, managed to land on the correct road the wind us through the mountains, past Lebanon and on to Tazewell, the closest incorporated town to the area known as Burke’s Garden, Virginia.

As we travelled, we twisted around curves, gained elevation, and enjoyed the intense green of the roadsides decorated with banks of blooming goldenrods and the lower brilliant blue from the late summer chicory.  Occasionally we passed a garden in a low flat spot near a house and the road which made us green with envy, the corn on the stalk just maturing, and tomatoes ripening on the vines. 

As we entered Tazewell, Virginia, not to be  confused with Tazewell, Tennessee or New Tazewell, Tennessee, we passed a brightly painted sign advertising Donut Diva on Main Street, but we did not see it as we passed through and found Burke’s Garden Road which would lead us rather circuitously to our destination.  We filed that information for the return trip.  Who doesn’t occasionally need a doughnut!

Our surroundings became even more beautiful as the altitude became higher.  At first we passed a few mini-mansions, but then the trees thickened, the climb became steeper, and the curves, sharpened.  I held on to the edge of the seat a few times and reminded myself to breathe although the road was actually quite a good one and it did have a line down the center.  My East Tennessee husband was thoroughly enjoying the drive!  We were soon over three thousand feet high and climbing.  We wondered as we enjoyed the luxury of making the trip in the car what it must have been like for the band of men who accompanied the surveyor Burke to this area in 1745 who tramped up this mountain with only their feet to carry them and no road.  As we climbed, the temperature dropped to the point that when we leveled out and saw the valley stretched out in front of us, the temperature was down to sixty degrees and the elevation was well over three thousand feet.

As we slowed at the approach of the Amish Country Store, the one and only retail establishment for the area, we were amazed at the vast pastures and fields stretching to the rims of the ranges surrounding them.  Occasionally we could see the buildings for the farms.

We had been on the road for almost three hours although we had driven only about one hundred and thirty miles.  We knew that the country store served sandwiches.  As we drove in, two other cars joined us in the parking lot.

Two young Amish women with their little white hats and traditional dresses made our sandwiches and also took care of other customers as we waited.  One customer, traditionally dressed,  came in for a bulk order and I enjoyed overhearing the conversation although I could understand none of it, for it sounded much closer to German than English.  As we waited, we fell into conversation with those who had followed us into the store.  The couple now own a farm in the valley, retired from Minnesota, and the other gentleman was from Nashville, Tennessee and seemed to be on a genealogy trip.  The couple from Minnesota had renovated a hundred and eighty year old farmhouse and had always wanted to live on a farm when they bought their farm, complete with a herd of goats. The first summer they occupied the house there was no running water.  They learned how to survive the way it used to be.   We later drove past their farm which is a show place now, the old two story house stuccoed over three brick deep walls.

While we ate our thick ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade sourdough bread  on the wide front porch, a couple of motorcycle riders rode up.  I was amused to listen to them talk as though they would not be welcome in the area.  After they got their helmets and jackets off, they looked pretty harmless and run of the mill to me.  I find it somewhat amusing that just because people ride a two wheeled vehicle that it somehow changes their won persona and makes them tough dangerous people.  Ah, well, to each his own.  They did not seem to be looking for conversation.

After we finished eating, we wandered back inside and paid the young women.  We were sorely tempted to buy a pan of cinnamon rolls, but we resisted and drove up and down the small roads of “The Garden.”

Mrs. From Minnesota had recounted that the name of the area came from when the surveyors buried the peelings from the potatoes they peeled and boiled for supper when they were camping in the valley.  They did not want to leave any sign that they had been there since the natives were occasionally a little less than friendly back in 1745.  The following year when others followed into the area, they found potatoes growing there from the peels buried.  Now the potato plays an important part in the annual festival.

We passed the old school which is now closed (The few school children who live in the valley are bused down to Tazewell.), the old closed post office,

lots of farms, silos, cows, goats, cornfields, hay fields, and creeks.  The area has never been developed because for a very long time, the owners would not sell any land.  In fact, it is believed that Vanderbilt wanted to build his Southern mountain retreat there and even he did not have money enough to tempt the owners.  I can understand that they truly did believe that it was “God’s Thumbprint.”

After an hour driving around with the windows down, relishing the smells of mown hay and the colors of the flowers, we turned and started down the rollercoaster road.  We stopped at an overlook, but very little could be seen because of the foliage, but we could glimpse down into the valley at some of the farms we had seen.

We were blessed by spotting “Donut Diva” as we made our turn onto Main Street in Tazewell.  Klep got  a Cappuccino to fortify him for the drive back to the hollow and we each chose two of her doughnuts.  Klep got one which had blue berries with, white frosting, and blueberry drizzle.  I got a German chocolate one.  We each got a vanilla frosted one with chocolate drizzle which we saved for breakfast.  The young woman who owned the little shop told us that she had been in business for three years.  She had a list of orders hanging in her window and was still busy preparing more doughnuts while we were there.  After sampling her product, we could understand why she was doing well!

We found US19, traveled down to I 81, joined rush hour on the interstate, got off on 11W after we passed Bristol, and arrived home after six. 

We feel blessed to have seen one of God’s unique geographical creations.  His work is indeed magnificent.

Coming to America

The wake up phone call filled the room as the lights flashed on and off at five a.m.  Friday.  We had an early flight home and needed to be at the Bucharest Air Terminal two hours in advance of our flight.  Thirty minutes later, our backup call came, but by this time, we were dressed, the bags were outside the door and we were doing our little check to be sure we had not left anything.

So far, our only mishap had been when I bumped my eye brow into the glass shelf above the plug in kettle that I heated the water in for our cups of Nescafe instant, a common offering in European hotel rooms.

We took the elevator down to the opulent reception area, checked out and received our breakfast box.  Since we did not need anything else to carry, we found a table and had our snack.  We had a tomato and cheese sandwich, a little muffin, a piece of fruit, an energy bar, and 16 ounces of water.  The bars and fruit went into the tote bag for later.  We started the water.  It is very important to stay hydrated when flying long distances.

Our big bus was in front of the Hilton a little before six.

The square in front of the hotel with all its old buildings was pretty much deserted in the early morning under the clear blue summer sky.  It had been bustling with cars and people when we came in from dinner the night before.

Our Viking representative checked us off and found two were missing.  She went back inside and soon returned.  They had decided to extend a couple of days.  I was wishing that we could, too, but we were packed and boarded and it was a little too late to back up.

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The bus moved quickly through the streets which had been clogged with traffic when we were on them Thursday.  In less than half an hour, we were in front of the terminal where we claimed our bags and rolled them in to the departure area. I have decided that rolling luggage is one of the great inventions of the twentieth century.  We scanned our passports in and the tickets printed out.  Magic, once again!  We then took the boarding passes, passports, and luggage to the line which moved quickly.  Soon the bags were checked to Orlando and we were on the way to security.

Since Romania and France, our next stop are both in the European Union, our first flight was basically a domestic flight.  We were on a small airline that partners with Air France.  Since I have passed the magic birthday of 75, I did not have to remove my shoes.  All our liquids were in a zip lock bag and we had put my laptop in a checked bag to speed things up.  Now, security is likely to have you turn on all computers to prove that they are operational.  Even though mine was charged up, I did not relish the extra time that it would take.  Checking it also lightened the load in Klep's carryon, never a bad idea!

Before we entered the line, we finished off our water, reserving the empty containers just in case we found a convenient water fountain to refill them.  We did not, by the way, so they were discarded during the flight.

We all managed to get through security though I think at least one of us got extra attention on a random check.  We then retrieved all of our things, the men put their belts back on, the girls put their watches back on, and we stowed everything in its proper place until we went through it all again at Charles DE Gaulle and Atlanta.  We managed to get checked on random checks again and once I sat off an alarm, I suppose from the little bit of titanium in my abdomen.

We watched the planes from our seats.  When it neared flight time, all the locals got up and got into line before the flight was called.  We didn't see a whole lot of reason to do this since we had seats, so we waited until most of them had loaded.

We were all toward the tail of the plane.  There was an empty seat on my row and a row of empty seats behind Klep, Rob, and Traci.  After we took off, he took advantage of the extra space to spread out and have more leg room.

The Tarom flight attendants served us a breakfast while we were in the air.  The flight was relatively smooth with just a little turbulence as we passed over the Alps.  Much of the time, we could look out the window and see the neat patches on land down below.  There was snow on the alps when we flew over them.

I got out my mindless mystery I had started on the flight from Paris to Budapest and read more, determined to get it finished before I got home.  Although the author managed to kill off most of the characters in the book, I did not finish until the day after I got home!

At Charles de Gaulle, we went through the marathon experience of moving into a distant terminal.  After we got directions of how to do that without leaving the secure zone, we made the necessary toilet stop.  My motto is never pass up a bathroom that is on the ground.  That is where I was amused to find the lovely orange toilet seat.

On a long trip such as this, sometimes, you need to take time for a laugh or two!

After finding the terminal, clearing passports and security once again, we found our gate and collapsed into our seats.  Our next flight we were flying premium economy which meant our boarding was easier and our seats more comfortable for the over six hours it took to fly across the Atlantic.  It isn't quite first class, but it is close and we still got our cute little pouches with the sleep mask, socks, ear plugs, etc. in them.  These were pretty and shinny.  I think our grand daughters will like them.  We also had a nice pillow and blanket, but we did not sleep.  After I tired of my book, I watched a couple of movies.  Air France served us dinner and a small meal before landing.

We cleared customs in Atlanta which meant we had to get our luggage, go through a line, and recheck the luggage.  After my bag was rechecked, it was gone through by TSA and did not make the flight.  I did not find out that they searched it until I unpacked after we got home and read the little notice they had put in the bottom of the bag.

Leaving Atlanta on Delta, we flew over a lot of thunderstorms which kept the fasten your seat belt sign on for the entire trip.  It was really quite beautiful flying over the clouds at sunset.  According to our piolet this picture was taken over the Valdosta area.

We were off the plane quickly in Orlando and hoofed it to baggage pick up.  Everything came except for my bag which had my laptop in it.  The woman at the lost baggage desk discovered that it was coming in on the next flight from Atlanta.  I am going to assume that she had had a rough day, and that she really wasn't the type person who found being helpful important.

We held a family conference and it was decided that Traci and I would wait for the bag and the boys would go get the car.  We parked ourselves in the waiting area between the doors and the baggage until the flight came in.  We were outside waiting when the guys drove up and retrieved us.  At this point, it had been twenty-four hours since our wake-up calls and we all needed sleep.

The day had been long, but we had made it safely and fairly sanely to our destination.  The next day, we shared memories of our trip as we drove up the turnpike and I 75 to Mosquito Gardens.

We saw things and had experiences that we never thought we would.  Once again, we marvel at what an interesting world God has given us to live in and that most of the people he has put in it are pretty nice, too!

Leaving the Danube: Bucharest Romania

The sun had just risen when I walked out onto our balcony and looked to the east.

During dinner the evening before, our captain had deftly pulled away from Bulgaria, made a wide sweeping turn in the river that separates Bulgaria from Romania, and docked near the city where we would disembark and take the buses into the capital city of Bucharest.  For some of us, this would be the last full day in the tour.  The next day we would board planes to go to all parts of the globe.  For others, a few days exploring fully Transylvania, part of the country side made famous by Bram Stoker's 19th century novel Dracula.  Our bags were all packed and would be waiting for us at the Bucharest Athene Hotel when we arrived there in the evening,  After breakfast, we walked up the gangway for the last time and found our groups.  Rob and I were a team for Thursday, choosing to do the old town, and Klep and Traci would brave the 200 steps of the Palace of the Parliament.

The two countries are now joined by the Friendship Bridge which spans the river.  It is a two decker bridge and serves to join Romania with Bulgaria and points south such as Turkey.  When we left the dock and entered the highway, we found over a mile of backed up trucks waiting to get over.  The bridge is currently being worked on and getting across it can take days.

Our guide who had a head of white curls was soon sharing jokes which he proceeded to do most of the day.  Some funny and some suffering a little in translation.  He told us the region was famous for chemicals and textiles which could account for the problems they sent over the river to Bulgaria which helped to rally the people to overthrow the Communist government in Bulgaria in 1987. 

The guide pointed out the remains of a castle from 2,000 years ago.  This entire region has been settled for a very long time.  It has also been captured by mighty forces time and time again including the Romans and the Turks.  We passed an old clock tower that was used to spot enemies on the river.

As we entered the countryside, we saw slightly rolling farmland.  This region grows corn, sunflowers, tomatoes, and apples primarily.

The country of Romania, the guide explains, imports many auto parts and exports the Datchia car.  They also make Ford cars.  They make and export a lot of smart phones and import medicine.

The little villages dotting the countryside are made up of little houses with little gardens and fruit trees in front and small vineyards in back for the wine which each family makes annually in the cellar.

The signs we passed on the highway were much easier for us to read here because Romania uses the Latin alphabet instead of the Cyrillic.

At the end of World War 2, Romania was "the guest of the Red Army" until 1965 when they chose a man who became a tight fisted dictator until his overthrow and death on Christmas Day of 2989.

As we entered the sprawling city of Bucharest, we were met with slow traffic and congestion that worsened until we neared the center where it basically came to a standstill. The center of town is full of statues and monument including a replica of the Arc de triumph in Paris.   Our guide could not figure out what was going on with the traffic but as we sat there, a large number of helicopters and then fighter planes roared overhead, enough to give us pause!

Later, we discovered that the road we were trying to get to, Aviation Boulevard, was totally blocked off because of a large air show that was going on.  The driver took a detour and got us to the park where the village made up of old Romanian buildings was located.

Unfortunately by this time, we had only about twenty minutes to spend enjoying them.   After this, we were due at the restaurant where we enjoyed the Romanian music and dancing more than the food.

After lunch, we headed to the old part of the city for a walking tour.  In 1977 a devastating earthquake hit this part of the world and many of the buildings were condemned but are still here.  Many of them have squatters, mainly the Roma (translate that gypsy) people, illegally.  Mixed in are very old buildings and a large number of street cafes, one of which we enjoyed.  We also enjoyed the music of a man playing the hammered dulcimer on the street and watching the hundreds of pigeons.

We saw a statue of the historical figure who inspired the tales of Count Dracula, Vlad the Impale, an important fighter and ruler during the 15th century who was noted for impaling his enemies on sticks, leaving holes in their necks which brought about the idea of him being a vampire.  I am not writing about one or two enemies, but thousands.  Naturally, they would bleed out and no blood would be left in their bodies.  I shall leave the rest of this to your imagination.

We stopped by one of the oldest churches in the region with its red and white stripes, frescos and stained glass windows  and after strolling around amidst the pigeons, found the building where we would meet our bus. After we were back on board, the guide took us to a parking lot in front of the Parliament Building where we could get exterior photos.

It is a massive building located on Spirit Hill in central Bucharest.

The inside has beautiful chandeliers, but those who actually went in said that few of them were turned on because of the vast expense of the electricity needed by them.

This was a project started by Nicolai Ceausescu in his attempt to redesign Bucharest.  After he was overthrown and killed, the building was finished because all the materials had already been purchased.  The huge building is not even all used.  The building has one million cubic meters of marble, nine hundred thousand cubic meters of wood and two hundred and fifty thousand cubic meters of carpet.

Everything in the building except for the doors to the dictators chambers are of Romanian origin.  Those doors were a gift from the dictator of Zaire.

The building has twenty floors, eight of which are underground.  There are tunnels under the building, one which leads to the airport that the dictator planned to use to escape if his people ever rose up against him.  Unfortunately for him, the building was not completed before they overthrew him.

After the brief stop at the People's House, the guide suggested taking us somewhere else, but the people rose up and we were taken to our hotel.

After the other group returned, we ventured out for another al fresco experience for dinner where we marveled at the way the cars screeched in and out around us without destroying each other.

We enjoyed our walk back to the hotel as we passed hundred year old buildings.  We had an early wake up call, so we turned after a long soak in a wonderfully deep bathtub.

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