It’s said that when General Philip Henry Sheridan marched the Union Army into Texas during the War of Northern Agression, he remarked,

“If I owned Hell and Texas I would rent out Texas and live in Hell.”

I believe the good General must have experienced our Texas hospitality in August (or June, or July, or September…heck maybe even October). Yep, it gets “purty durned hot” in the Lone Star State, and stays that way! Some of y’all are still fighting snow, and I’m withering in the heat like a two day old salad.

I’ve decided as I get older that I don’t like the heat we have here in the summer. I’m not all that fond of the cold weather, either, but I can add clothing and bundle up. The problem with summer heat, I’ve discovered, is that there is only so much clothing that a woman my age can remove without being indecent!

I don’t know that it’s ever been said that I’m “decent,” but my Momma would roll over in her grave if I stripped down like some of these young girls do. I just can’t allow myself to go out in public like that. Which isn’t to say I don’t run around the house half nekkid, so don’t surprise me by coming knocking on my front door! We might both turn as red as a baboon’s behind.

In my younger years, we didn’t have central heat and air conditioning (though when it came around, we were one of the first in the neighborhood to get it, because Daddy was an electrical contractor). We had “window units,” which only cooled one room in the house. Mamaw and Papaw had “water coolers” which only cooled the area immediately in front of them. Windows and doors (we had screen doors back then) were kept open, though often drapes were drawn to keep out the sunshine. Oscillating fans were in every room.

Those oscillating fans were a delight. When we came in from the outdoors, all dripping in sweat, we got in front of the fans and wiggled around flapping our shirts to try to dry off and cool ourselves. I guess you’d call it a “fan dance.”

Years ago, I started collecting a few oscillating fans…the old ones like I remember having back then. Imagine my surprise when I met my husband and discovered that he also had a collection of fans! I love having them going, but mine don’t have very good guards over the blades, so I’m always terrified that one of my long-tailed cats is going to become an accidental Manx cat. One of them is going to rub up against a fan and pull back a nub!

My favorite fan that we have is a hassock fan that my husband repaired. He had it out in the garage, and I confess that I wasn’t too impressed by it. Years ago, he bought it at a garage sale for a dollar. It was rusty, and the top was broken. But, he repaired the top, restored the motor, even re-worked the logo on the top.




It looks like it just stepped out of a Montgomery Ward’s catalogue in the 1950s!

The last few days while I have been working on crocheted afghans for Share A Square, I’ve had that fan whirring beside me. I’d much rather listen to its hum than the noise on the television set.

I must admit that I don’t really have to use those fans (though with rising energy costs, they will be a help). However there are folks out there who are in desperate need of them. In Austin, there is a program called Family Eldercare that tries to help by collecting fans to distribute.

In fact, if you are feeling altruistic, you probably could find an agency in your area that will accept donations of new fans (or contributions) to distributed to low-income elders, persons with disabilities and families with young children living on a fixed income. That would be a cool donation! Those fans are lifesavers. Literally. People, our Texas heat can and does kill.

I think that General Sheridan was probably taking it a little too far in his remark. I’ll take Texas over Hell any day of the week. I’m told that the beer is hot down there, there is no bacon, and you have to sit still and listen to William Shatner “sing.”

Texas is sounding better all the time.

Did y’all ever get to hear a storyteller relate a Br’er Rabbit tale? I remember a repetition of the line, “And, Br’er Rabbit, he lay low.” That meant that he was biding his time and waiting for his next mischief. I’ve been doing that for a few days.

Actually, I haven’t been “biding time” at all! I’ve been busy finishing some projects, and have had my nose to the grindstone. Poor nose.

Do you remember Share A Square? I don’t talk about it every day, but that doesn’t mean it’s not foremost in my mind. I’ve been putting the finishing touches on several afghans. We have 128 of them showing in the afghan gallery, thanks to the hard work of some marvelous volunteers. Those afghans are all packaged and stacked in my guest room waiting for delivery. That whole end of the house has sunk two inches from the weight!

It’s been almost a year since I first asked people to start sending 6 inch granny squares to put into afghans for children at Camp Sanguinity in July. The goal is 140 afghans, and I think they will all be finished in the next couple of weeks.

I’ve also been working on some bags to hold the tags. There are tags from 48 different people on each afghan. We want the kids to be able to save them (that’s 48 new friends they have). Barbara and Sherry are heading the project to put those bags together. We could use some more of them, if you have a mind to make one or two. I think it’s something the kids will treasure.

There were a couple of mundane projects to do, too. I’ve been working in my very own briar patch (blackberry vines are overtaking my yard). Those vines have cut my legs and ankles until I look like I’ve been in a swordfight with a two inch tall ninja warrior.

I had to upgrade my blogs in WordPress. I get palpitations just thinking about it. Ordinarily, I’d have Leanne do it for me (because that’s not hair on my legs, it’s feathers! I’m chicken!). But, I’m trying to hold on to a little money right now, and she had excellent instructions on her blog for doing a WordPress upgrade.

I screwed my courage to the sticking place and gave it a try. It almost went without a hitch. I discovered that in WordPress 2.5.1 there seemed to be a problem in uploading pictures. Thankfully, Leanne was able to walk me through that one, too.

It wasn’t all work and no play, though. We took time to go see the new Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull movie. Have y’all seen it? It’s a little short on plot and story line, but there is lots of action. And, hey, you can sit for a couple of hours in someone else’s air conditioning and be subjected to Harrison Ford’s killer grin.

Oh, PLEASE don’t throw me in that briar patch!

Several months ago I went down to my local blood bank to donate platelets. I was trying to bring attention for the need to be tested to donate bone marrow, so that children like Taten Court could get the marrow they need to survive cancer.

My attention was brought to something else entirely.

I got a letter from the blood bank that was marked “Confidential to Blood Donor.”

“Hmm,” I thought to myself. “That can’t be good.”

It wasn’t.

The letter informed me that my blood tested positive for Hepatitis C antibodies, though negative for the virus itself. It further explained that I could have “been exposed to the Hepatitis C virus but may have cleared the virus” OR I “may have a false positive antibody result.”

“Wait a doggone minute!” I thought. “This has to be wrong! Hepatitis C is a disease for people who are drug users or are sexually promiscuous. This has to be a false positive!”

Wrong on two counts, Shelly.

First of all, I’m in a group at high risk for Hepatitis C (for two reasons).

• I had a blood tranfusion in 1981, before blood banks began testing for AIDS and Hepatitis C.
• A few years later, I cleaned up a very messy suicide (without gloves, of course) when our neighbor across the street blew his mind out. I practically wallowed in blood and brains. The man was an alcoholic and could have been a drug user for all I know.

And, after a couple of months of waiting to get an appointment with the proper doctor, I’ve discovered that I do, indeed, have antibodies for Hepatitis C.

“How in the world could I have had something as horrible as Hepatitis C and not known it?”

It’s symptoms are like the flu, and it’s easily overlooked. Dr. C. Everett Koop said on his website dedicated to hepatitis,

“We stand at the precipice of a grave threat to our public health…It affects people from all walks of life, in every state, in every country. And, unless we do something about it soon, it will kill more people than AIDS.”

“But, I only have the antibodies, so I’m in the clear aren’t I?”

Unfortunately, no.

According to the blood bank, and my doctor, “a majority of individuals (75-85%) exposed to Hepatitis C virus goes on to develop chronic infection that may eventually lead to liver disease.” That includes cirrhosis and liver cancer.

I’ve been waiting for many weeks to finally get the outcome of all these tests. I could smell my fear, and I’m sure you had to smell it as well. The waiting and not knowing has been so stressful that it has been eating me from the inside out.

I haven’t been visiting blogs, I haven’t been answering comments or e-mails. I just stay away from the computer, because when I sit down the first thing I do is Google “Hepatitis C.” It just scares me sillier.

It may take me awhile to get back in the groove. I’m trying to digest this right now, and still have to make an appointment with a gastroenterologist.

Tonight, I’m telling myself how lucky I am.

Yes, I am.

• I could have gotten AIDS from the transfusion or the blood exposure, BUT, I DIDN’T.
• If I hadn’t given platelets, I might not have found out about the disease until there was extreme liver damage. BUT, I FOUND OUT. And, while I was at it, I discovered that my cholesterol is through the roof and my thyroid is out of whack. Now, I’m on meds, so maybe I’ll feel better soon.
• As yet, I have no liver damage.
• Though there is no cure for Hepatitis C, and it can come back at any time, RIGHT NOW THE DISEASE IS NOT ACTIVE.

“I’m lucky. I’m lucky. I’m lucky.”

Maybe, if I say it enough times, I’ll believe it.