Overshadowed

Sometimes, you just have to treat yourself.

I began buying a new windshield sun visor each year because, with use, they would become ineffective, unraveled, and very difficult to keep in place, especially as Lizard's Parkinson's began robbing him of finger dexterity. Stiff visors were easier for him to manipulate.

A couple of weeks ago, I realized I hadn't replaced my visor this year because... well, other things really got in the way.

I decided to design my own because I can and because I thought one of our shadow shots from one of our many, many, many adventures would make me so very happy deep down inside every single time I look out my front window and every time I have to get in the car.

And guess what? IT DOES!!!

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Leaping Lizards

(affiliate links to my designs)

A week or so after Lizard passed, one of my friends told me I would find him when I began doing again the things we loved. Another friend told me to watch for signs that he might be near.

I will be candid. I have not heard or seen Lizard or felt him near. I wish I could, but I also realize my task might be to walk by faith. And I'm doing the best I can. Yet, I have looked, listened and paused quite frequently in search of any kind of sign he might be near. I'm kind of to the point that I don't actively search for him anymore because it's too disappointing. I now try to be grateful for the time we had, strengthen my faith and live worthily that I can be with both him and my Savior again one day.

I saw lizards in Lizard's mother's backyard on Mother's Day. That was an annual thing for the last five years, I think. We began making Mother's Day trips over there as soon as it was safe to travel again after we were all vaccinated. The trauma was still so fresh this Mother's Day, seeing the tiny little lizards doing their pushups made both Lizard's mom and me cry. The little lizards are not unusual for her. She sees lizards about nine or ten months out of the year.

I first got back on my bike about six weeks after Lizard passed. It took that long. And I didn't really want to ride then. But I had no choice, unless I Ubered, which I didn't want to do. I was dropping off my car for routine maintenance, and I didn't want an Uber charge on top of whatever the car was going to cost. So, I rode my bike home from the shop. In the rain. I cried almost the entire way. I told everyone who asked that the sky cried with me the whole way.

I'm really thankful now that I took that first ride. It enabled me to get back on my bike. I'm typically riding twice a week now. I've been up Waterton several times. I've seen some great wildlife. But no lizards. Which is not typical. (And no bears, which is just my extreme wishful thinking...)

Until last week. My sister-in-law has been riding with me at least every other week, just to get me back on my bike, but she wasn't able to ride that day. So, I went alone. We had planned to do a different trail than either of us had ever done, but because I was going to be on my own, I decided to ride up Waterton.

I saw nothing on the way up, which isn't that unusual. On the way down, I passed a baby snake in the middle of the road. I circled around for a photo, then used my front bike tire to encourage it to get out of the middle of the road so it would not become a pancake under someone else's wheels.

Suddenly, a very large lizard charged right at both me and the snake!!! The lizard was a little bigger than the snake. I thought I was in for a showdown! I was so shocked, I didn't even think to get the camera ready.

I didn't know who was going to eat who! They were staring at each other, and the lizard kept looking at me, then looking at the snake. Finally, after just a few seconds, the lizard scampered off behind me.

I looked it up when I got home. Snakes will occasionally eat lizards, and lizards will sometimes eat small snakes. That was just fascinating to me. It still is, really. I've never seen anything like that before, and I feel what I witnessed was better than a documentary, even though nothing happened. Just to see two completely different species face off like that!

After I got the baby snake safely across the road (after one cyclist who didn't see it nearly did run over it caused it to jump about two feet in the air... I'd never seen anything like that before, either), I asked Lizard out loud if this means he was there with me. I felt kind of bubbly inside.

All the rest of the way down the canyon, I kept wondering if the lizard was a sign.

At the bottom of the canyon, another large lizard ran across the road right in front of me. I wondered aloud again if this was a sign. Was my Lizard with me? Did he know I was thinking of him?

Then, out of nowhere, five planes flew overhead in formation. Like they were practicing for an air show. On a Tuesday! There were no air shows I knew of. (I did learn Colorado's 150th birthday was last Saturday, so perhaps they were practicing for that.) Lizard would have been overjoyed!!!

I asked God without praying. I think I said something like, "That has to be a sign. Lizard would have loved to see that. He HAS to be near."

I was still happy inside, so I'm going to believe Lizard either knew what I was doing or knew I was thinking of him. He knows I'm trying hard, and he knows I'm trying to be more faithful, and that makes me feel so good.

This week I realized I waited 45 years to find my Lizard. I can't wait to see him again, but I know from experience, I can wait. He was worth every minute of waiting 21 years ago, and he's worth waiting for now.

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Highs, Lows and Aurora Borealis

I think I'm going to have to crochet a new color Northern Lights Snowflake! I bet we get northern lights here in Colorado at least one more time this year! Meanwhile, I sure had fun making blocks for my 2024 digital temperature quilts after actually seeing and successfully photographing northern lights dark and early Monday morning!

The Aurora app on my phone notified me twice very late Sunday night/extremely early Monday morning (and again Monday afternoon, during full daylight) that we had reached K7, which meant low latitude northern lights!!!

The first time, Lizard was still pacing the floor, unable to sleep. I asked if he'd like to go east with me so we could get away from the light polution of the Denver metro north of us, the same direction we'd have to look to see the northern lights. Anxiety is a huge part of Parkinson's, and he was too nervous about going out in the dark, so we went to a nearby hill and crossed our fingers. I could see the northern lights movement with my naked eye, but we didn't get great shots. The cell phone, which actually does a good job with northern lights because it sees more of the light spectrum than we can, just doesn't have a powerful enough zoom. The point and shoot doesn't see everything we see, and even enhanced via Photoshop, it's difficult to see the full color scale we saw with our eyes and thoroughly enjoyed watching for a few minutes.

The second time the notification alarm went off, I woke, but Lizard didn't. I didn't feel like I could leave him home alone long enough to drive and shoot, and there was no way I was going to wake him from a good slumber. So I stepped out onto our front porch with my phone, and my eyes about popped out of my head!!! I could see pink and green, and pretty high in the sky to boot! I was in heaven!

I moved down to the driveway and shot about four frames, uploaded the best one to my community group on Facebook, then went back to bed. The next morning, I downloaded the point and shoot, then tried enhancing both the cell phone and 35mm photos with Photoshop and AI. I created a collage illustrating of the difference between the two cameras and the two different northern lights occurences in my neck of the plains meet foothills. I'm still overjoyed I finally got to see northern lights in person!!! I'll never turn down an opportunity to see them live in person further north (or south, as in Antarctica), but I feel so blessed I got to see them this time around!

I think I dreamed the rest of the night (or, I guess, very early morning) about how I could interpret this celestial event in my digital quilts.

I dug out the old snowflakes made back in... oh, my gosh! 14 years ago!!! Photographed them on the appropriate colors, and I digitally quilted the newest blocks.

Sometimes it feels a bit like pressure to have to keep going with all this year's digital temperature quilts. But after another day of something special, man, I can't wait to see these printed on fabric at the end of the year! The blue is going to make the most awesome dress, I think!

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Shingles

Yes, we were vaccinated nearly a year ago, and no, we do not have any symptoms. We do, however, have new shingles on our old roof, and oh, are they pretty!

We've had drive-by companies hammering us to let them replace our roof for about three or four years now. We've had a few good hail storms, and our home is celebrating its vicenary anniversary this year. Fun word, right??? Did you catch the name of my snowflake yesterday???

Our roof didn't quite have enough damage. Until after last December's windstorms. Particularly the one that decimated an entire community about 70 miles north of our home.

That particular windstorm sounded like a train repeatedly hitting up against the side of our house. I thought I shot a movie of our shingles flapping in the wind, but I guess I got only stills. Seven businesses and 1,084 homes were lost in the Marshall fire. We got to keep our home, and for that, I am extremely grateful. But our roof was toast.

The whole process of getting a new roof has taken several months, with the insurance company and the contractor duking it out, plus the homeowner's association's approval process. We changed the color to match other yellow homes in our neighborhood, and the time it took to approve an approved color made us wonder if we'd accidentally checked off that we were building a skyscraper or putting in a petting zoo.

the original roof

It looked like we might get a pink roof when the materials were delivered!

Lizard had warned me I would need to wear earplugs while working from home on installation day. This was my first new roof ever. And boy, did Lizard ever get it right! I ended up apologizing to the neighbors for the early morning wake-up pounding. And we supplied much-appreciated ice cold water, Gatorade and Pepsi for the crew, who literally cooked atop our roof trying to beat the 95 degrees the thermometer hit just half an hour after they finished.

Oh, and our leaky and damaged gutter got replaced, too. We got rain for the first time in three months the next day. And the basement didn't flood!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!! And, now I can finish the rest of the rockwork below the downspout.

Now, it's done, and it feels like a whole new house. Who knew a new roof could make us feel like we bought a new home!

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Satisfaction

Both moms loved their table toppers! My mom said she wants to hang the one I made for her on the wall, and my mother-in-law wants another, smaller, to put on a serving table also in her dining room. Words don't even describe how happy my heart is this week!

I've been diligently working on the hand-sewing of my Green Batik Leftovers Quilt-As-You-Go project. I guess I really need a better name for this quilt!

It may be difficult for those who visit weekly to see the progress, but I've finished and attached three of four borders, then finished up the hand-sewing on the back by hand.

This weekend, I hope to finish the fourth border, then bind the quilt. Then I will have met my goal for one finish for each of the first two months of the Ravelry Spring Quarter Challenge! I'll have six weeks left to finish a project for June! If I can keep this up (and not start any more new projects, except my mother-in-law's mini table topper), my official WIP list will be down to single digits for the first time by the end of the Summer quarter!

Linking up with Alycia Quilts.

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Ready, Aim, Tire

I was sailing down a pretty nice little incline, exactly 3.01 miles into my second solo (without Lizard) bicycle ride of the year (and decade), fully expecting another 18-miler. I had my camera and two spare batteries, and the sky was beginning to turn the most gorgeous shade of peach, although I wish wildfires weren't contributing to the dazzling sunrise. I would be able to capture spectacular sunrise reflection photos just around the next bend. Suddenly a very loud and obnoxious "pft" was followed by an even louder descending glissando whistle, a most unwelcome noise I've not heard in many years, thanks to Kevlar strips in my tires back in the days when I rode on a more regular basis.

I'd popped a tire.

Yes, I had a tube, and yes, I had tools. It takes me two hours to change a bicycle tire. Lizard always did it for me when we rode together because... because he's my hero. Because he's awesome. Because he had hand dexterity back then. Because he knew it would take me too long to do by myself.

As I walked my bike back home, watching the horizon turn orange, then gold, then yellow, I kept seeing the amber hues reflecting off the ground. Broken glass. Everywhere. I'd ridden home this very same path just one week earlier. There hadn't been as much glass then. Lots of rocks, but not glass. Along an entire mile stretch! Almost as bad as all the improperly discarded masks that now litter the landscape. But masks won't pop a bicycle tire.

Just prior to my blowout, my ride partner and I had been chatting about this year's Triple Bypass. Her husband had registered to participate, and I had asked her if he might be able to ride with Lizard the first few miles. ("Absolutely!") Lizard might not be able to get any further than about ten miles. I've promised I will pick him up wherever he hits his wall, which varies right now between three and six miles.

The first climb of the Triple typically is closed to vehicular traffic, enabling me to feel comfortable with Lizard taking on the challenge. And yet having someone to ride along with him might give Lizard confidence, as well as companionship.

My riding partner noted she'd been training for the Triple a few years earlier when, during a descent of Mount Evans, she heard a voice telling her it was time to get off the roads. She thought about the message for a while, then bought a gravel bike, which she was riding alongside me on my trusty old 2002 road bike when my tire popped. She sold both her road bike and her mountain bike. The only roads she rides now (which are on her way to and from work) are via her gravel bike. Gravel bikes can do gravel, pavement and trails.

I finally purchased Lizard's gravel bike, which he should be receiving in the next month, a few weeks ago. He will have to partially assemble it, and that's one of the reasons I bought it for him. He is so excited to build this baby, and I think the project will be very good for him. It will give him something to do, something he loves doing but doesn't get to do much anymore. He recently spent a day tuning a bike for a neighbor, the first time he's done that in years, and even though it takes him a lot longer these days, I'm not sure anything makes him happier than working on bikes. I wish I could find a local bike shop that wouldn't mind a slow and sometimes forgetful employee...

All the glass fragments on the road made me wonder if my flat tire was a message to me to get off the roads. I'd realized two years ago I can't take chances anymore because I'm a caregiver now. If anything happens to me, who will take care of Lizard? I didn't really consider an 18-mile ride near home before working from home as risky. I must confess, the trucks that passed me as I walked my bike home brought back unpleasant reminders of unruly traffic during Ride the Rockies and the MS-150. There were no close calls as I walked my bike home, and no drivers were rude. But just like the broken glass on the road, there is risk. And that risk could be significant.

I got home in time to make breakfast for Lizard, whom I'd called with the update when the tire popped. I got home with plenty of time to relax before beginning my workday. Plenty of time to ponder. Plenty of time to put priorities back into perspective.

I was beginning to feel selfish for riding without Lizard. I realized I feel much safer when I - or we - ride where there is no danger of traffic. Such as Waterton Canyon. I love Waterton Canyon. It is never boring. I could do without the biting flies of summer, but I love to ride Waterton every chance I get. I love to ride my bike. But I do not love to ride in traffic, and my bike-handling skills are rusty these days. It's just been too long.

I threw some frozen peach slices in the blender, then added them to plain yogurt with ginger, cinnamon and just a pinch of cloves. I devoured about four spoonfuls, then mixed in Lizard's powdered supplements and handed him the bowl. He took two spoonfuls and fell asleep during the third.

It was the first time I know of Lizard has fallen asleep while eating. He had fallen asleep during conversations, while watching television and while doing his stretching routine. I've never minded him falling asleep because I'm thankful for every ounce of sleep he can get. But this is a sign of Parkinson's progression. No matter how much effort we put into trying to slow the disease, it marches onward, stealing more and more of my favorite cyclist month by month.

Stage Four of Parkinson's includes falling asleep during inappropriate times. The previous week, Lizard had accidentally left the hot water running after washing his hands, the second time that had happened. His medication recently got bumped up because his rigidity had become so debilitating. His breathing is sometimes labored. His Parkinson's shuffle and gait are becoming more and more pronounced. There are days when fighting Parkinson's takes everything we've got, and then some.

I miss our weekend warrior adventures. But I am so grateful for everything we were able to do before Parkinson's changed our path. We've been forced to let go of and abandon many dreams. But I will never stop building new goals and dreaming up new adventures. Parkinson's may not be a destination we chose, but it's an adventure we can work through together. I will never give up, and I will never give up hope.

I can't say I'm going to invest in another gravel bike for me, but I see no reason why I can't ride my mountain bike (which is one of Lizard's retired mountain bikes!!!) right alongside him as we continue on this unexpected and unpredictable journey. There will be bumps and curves along the way, along with splinters of sharp glass from time to time. Today's unexpected detour didn't deter me, and no future flats are going to prevent me from making the best life I can for us.

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