N is for: Nuthin'

On harsh winter mornings in 1960, my brothers and I hurried down downstairs, eager to get near the heat stove that sat in the middle of the farmhouse kitchen.  Winters were hard on every living being on the farm, especially on the animals.  My father had hundreds of swine and cows under his care; winter was the time when there were 20 to 30 sows in the farrowing house with their newborn litters of piglets. It was not unusual for us to find a cardboard box resting on the open door of the oven range, with newborn piglets wrapped in flannel.

Usually it was because the sow had rejected the piglet(s) for some reason, or there were not enough nipples to feed all the piglets.   Either way, we children would have the responsibility of feeding these squirming little piglets until they were large enough to go into the pig population, or until they mysteriously disappeared in the night.  That meant that Dad had found them dead and disposed of them. 

Life was life, and things died—all farm children know the harsh facts.  But, one cold winter day there was a lone piglet that was different. 

Love me for my brains!

He had been rejected by the sow because clearly something was wrong with him.  He had a huge tumor on his left hind leg.  My brother Robert looked down at the piglet in the box as I uncovered it and examined his poor leg.  “It ain’t worth nuthin’.  Should let it die.”

“Nuthin’…that’s what we’ll call him.”  Over the next days and weeks, Robert and I took turns feeding Nuthin’ first from a bottle, and then from a dish.  Nuthin’ grew, and we kept him in a pen in the breezeway until spring came.  By then, Nuthin’ was almost the size of our dogTuffy, and they played together in the yard.  We called his name, and Nuthin’ came as fast as his crippled leg allowed him.   

Fast Friends

Spring was moving into May, and Nuthin’ was getting too big to let roam the yard.  Animals reaching adolescence are just like humans; they aren’t the same sweet little kids anymore.  Dad said we had to put him in the barn lot with the three milk cows.  We could still visit him, but playing with him wasn’t an option.  That was when we noticed the tumor on his leg growing.  Day by day, we could see Nuthin’ slowing down, and not eating as much.  One day Nuthin’ lay down, and no amount of convincing could make him move.

The next morning Nuthin’ had disappeared.  No one said much about that, because all farm children know the harsh facts. 

I have told the story about Nuthin' to my children and students many times.  The A-Z blogfest gave me an excuse to share it with you.  Many many thanks to Arlee Bird, Jeffrey Beesler, Alex J. Cavanaugh, Jen Daiker, Candace Ganger, Karen J. Gowen, Talli Roland, and Stephen Tremp for hosting this daunting and awesome event!
http://tossingitout.blogspot.com 

Susan Kane  22 March 2011

M is for...

I have put off writing this blog entry, for the letter M.  It is about my migraines.  Oh, I have tried several times to put some sort of perspective on it.  You have no idea how many times I sat down at the computer and wrote out various genre to tell you about my migraines.

One was a sci-fi story where M’plygk is a slumbering hideous monster that awakes slowly, and wreaks havoc on my nervous and vascular system.  Only the fact that I am the tortured one is never revealed.  This poorly written story would make the sci-fi people out there curse in Klingon.

One is an introspective and eloquent essay on man’s suffering.  It is enough to gag a vulture.

Another is a chronological telling of my endless sufferings, revealing my steadfast nobility.  Again, this would make a toad vomit flies.

There you have my efforts, so I suck it up and start this entry for the wonderful A-Z Blogfest, which has pulled more out of me than a normal childbirth, and has been rewarding beyond description.  Big Thanks! go to the team who bravely put this together.

I have intractable familiar hemiplegic migraines.  It is never a question “Do you have a migraine today?”  The question is “How bad is it, from 1 to 10?”  As ‘familial’ suggests, this is part of my inheritance.

We all have a variety of genetic ‘inheritances’, whether it is breast cancer, chronic bowel disease, flat feet, or blue eyes.  This just happens to be mine, from my father’s side.  All my brothers have this, and my sister’s son.

The word ‘intractable’ means “Well, darn it.  We have tried every thing in known neurology science, and it doesn’t seem to work…” 

Even so, life continues, and while I cannot do many things, I can write.  Even if my eyes don’t want to focus, or whatever, I can still write. 

Even if I just lie on a sofa at my daughter’s house, I can enjoy Sunshine and Bright Eyes.  I can listen to them, enjoy their child-wisdom, and laugh at their antics.  I also get to sit in the rocker and watch TV with them, while they tell me they love me.  “Sometimes, Grandma, I want to say something to you, but I don’t know what it is.  So I just tell you that I love you.”  

I tell ya, that is pretty awesome for anyone, don’t ya think?

L is for...

LISTS!  I am a list maker, with lists covering things to pack, things to buy,  places I need to go, blogs that are hosting blogfests, and just about anything else which can be made into a list.  It is not that I have to make a list in order to go from point A to point B.  No, actually I have a fairly decent memory.  With my migraines, I have had to make more lists than usual, when the brain fog creeps into my head.

Recently, the artsy nonsensical words that one must type after posting a comment following a blog entry have become fascinating.  As I decipher these collections of letters and begin typing, I noticed that my computer is frantically suggesting words, trying to guess what is or should be next.  Maybe my computer is trying to reach out to me?  Perhaps it senses that I am not a sharp as I used to be?

Thus, my list has words like these:  gicasu, farmal,, scistral, granzet, mrenit, firjilz, viltimal, miltrev, and on…

Alice in Wonderland has a lovely poem of nonsense words, “The Jabberwocky”.  I decided to take a jab at this fun idea, and compose a paragraph using some words on my list:

            "The frentmc  blew in from the east that benai, a bad irmanc for me.  With an easterly frentmc, came the neezlt from the clftem  and all the memories I thought I had left in that desolate scrotm.  Leaning back against the barn with my jiftli  closed, I sensed those memories nuklim  up like so many yucca jamsic.  The flogtl  was dry when I arrived and when I left the neezlt.  Roberto had died in my arms the  irmanc I critleg  into his Vralnrd, at death’s door myself.  There had been time only for one nutkrc, and his whispered warning, “ Triglle  this jomnry  now.” Then he had closed his jiftli."

Lists a good things, but maybe I have carried them too far. 

Many thanks to the A-Z Blogfest Crew.  Link to the following site to check out other blogs:

http://tossingitout.blogspot.com