Heat
We stayed at the Peaks of Otter Lodge on the Blue Ridge Parkway recently, a place we’ve visited many times before. We expected the mountain air to be cooler, but the temperature was drastically lower, from somewhere in the sixties the day before, to freezing when we checked in. Brrr. I rarely touch a thermostat. I simply put on a jacket or socks when I get chilly. George, however, is a thermostat guy who constantly monitors and adjusts, whether at home or elsewhere, so I keep hands off. Which is what I did during our visit. I should add that the Peaks of Otter Lodge is an old hotel with baseboard heat and window air conditioner units. I noticed George went to bed wearing two shirts and long athletic pants, which was unusual. Then he asked me to find an extra...
The Wordless Nose
Who knew that words originate from the left nostril? I’ve scarcely written in the two months since I had a chunk of my nostril removed. I posted a brief essay about not taking my nose for granted, but other than that, everything I’ve tried to write has seemed dead and lifeless–like the piece of me that’s gone. I have excuses. (1) I couldn’t wear glasses for a number of weeks and couldn’t see to write. (2) I slept a lot during my recovery. (3) My brain isn’t getting enough oxygen since I can no longer breathe through my left nostril. So how do I get my words back? I was pinning my hopes on nose reconstruction, but that dream got shot to pieces when I saw the plastic surgeon. Transplanting cartilage and then covering it would require complex surgery involving...
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