A Symphony of Noise

               Noises assault the ear from every direction. Grinders, spitting sparks into the air create a whine. It is a high pitched sound which can grate on your nerves.

               Machines rumble. Some merely filling in background noise while others scream as gears mesh in high speed engagement. Blowers add to the cacophony of sounds, a whine of rotors pulling dust and powders away from the workers.

               A vertical lathe provides a syncopated beat as vanes are intermittently cut to size. The beat changes as the tool cuts into the part.

               Air hoses whistle as chips are blown from newly drilled holes, the chips bouncing off the drum tight safety shields. The alarm on the crane clangs as the hoist moves down the aisle. The sound of the bell decreasing as it moves away.

               A chorus of voices can be heard, filling in as noises dim. Laughter, yelling, discussions of dimensions create a song of work and workers.

               The machine shop is an orchestra of noises. None planned, none scripted, yet they can all fit together to make a symphony out of the clamor. It is a concert of industry preformed by the machinists and their instruments.

               On a good day it can sound wonderful. On a Monday, it can sound like hell!

Diabetic Times are Changing!

 

The late seventies were a different time for me. I was on the company softball team and a member of their bowling team. A motorcycle was my primary means of transportation. My career as a machinist was in its infancy. The price of gas was going up but then again, it rarely goes down. Remember when President Carter was attacked by a rabbit during a fishing trip in Plains Georgia? Ahhh, the 70’s, life was great.

               I had visited my doctor because of increased thirst and frequent trips to the men’s room. On a sunny afternoon in April I was told that I was now a diabetic and I needed to go to the hospital as soon as possible. I thought that my life was over.

               Yes, things were different then as compared to now. I spent a week in the hospital while the doctors tried to normalize my blood sugars. The instruction manuals they used to teach me about the disease were paper; there were no You-Tube videos or phone apps to help me out.

               Somewhere in my attic is a pile of notebooks listing what I had to eat and what my sugar levels were and how much insulin I had injected. Page after page of scribbled notes. Like all diseases, diabetes is something you have to work on. By participating with the doctor, planning your meals and exercising you can make it manageable.

               To find out where my sugar levels were I simply ran a test strip through a stream of my urine. Then I would compare the color it had changed to with a chart on the bottle. It wasn’t a very exacting science back then. But it did get me in the habit of washing my hands frequently.

               Testing progressed into putting a drop of blood onto a test strip. To get a drop of blood to test you have to poke your finger with a lancet. Using a meter gives a much more accurate number than comparing colors. In the modern world there are CGMs, Continuous Glucose Monitors which attach to you and give almost up to the minute readings. They can be paired with a pump to help determine your present needs for insulin along with slowing down the dosages to help avoid lows.

               When I first started giving myself injections I would mix different types of insulin together. There would be some slow acting insulin acting as a background dose during the day and some fast acting insulin to cover what I had just eaten. Care had to be taken to avoid mixing the different types; your health depended on it. Ask any diabetic something that they all carry and chances are the answer will be glucose tablets. If you get too much insulin you risk possibly passing out or worse. These tablets help prevent these lows.

               Presently about 20 or 30% of Type 1 diabetics use a pump. The others that need to inject insulin use needles. Thankfully the diameter and sharpness of the needles has improved. I can’t say it is painless but most of the time I really didn’t mind it. Not that I had a choice.

               In the year 2003 I finally got my first pump. It was 18 years ago this week! To say that it has made my life easier would be an understatement.

               The human body needs something to convert our food into fuel for our muscles to use. Insulin is that magic elixir. Without insulin the sugar in our blood would remain there and eventually cause problems. Thirst and frequent urination could be the least of these. Type 1 diabetics produce no insulin at all and need to inject it to keep their bodies working properly. Type 2 diabetics produce less insulin than they need, often they can compensate for this shortage by closely watching their diets and exercising.

               Getting back to the pump, this can supply a diabetic with a set maintenance dose of insulin during the day along with additional doses to cover meals. Along with the help of your doctor pretty good sugar levels can be attained.

Two days ago I received a new pump. It is a Tandem T:Slim X2. It is coupled with a Dexcom G6 Sensor. (CGM) The sensor checks my blood every 5 minutes and sends the numbers to the pump which uses that info to better control my blood sugar levels. It puts it on a graph (the line crossing the screen in the picture above) which shows me the patterns my levels are taking helping me understand where I stand at the present moment. It has the feel of technology at its best. I’ll find out soon!

               I am looking forward to seeing how it will work. There will definitely be a bit of a learning curve but that seems to be coming along fine. It is very user friendly. I am looking forward to seeing how my sugar averages will drop! Since I got the pump, I figure I have missed about 14 or 15 finger pricks already…things are looking up and my sugar levels are going down!

Her Home Was Her Castle

 

Not far from the border of Vermont, just a few miles into the southwestern corner of New Hampshire lies the remains of what some people call a castle. While it isn’t quite as large as a castle would be, to the woman who lived in it, that is just what it was, her castle.

Born in 1878, Antoinette Bramare grew up in Paris France. Trained as a seamstress, she was also a dancer. She met an American and after they were married moved to New York City where they opened a millinery store. They designed and sold costumes for Broadway.

Her husband died in 1924 and the New York lifestyle no longer appealed to Madame Sherri as she was now known. Visiting a friend’s house in West Chesterfield New Hampshire, she fell in love with the area and decided to move there. She eventually bought 600 acres and designed her house.

When complete in 1929 the house had a curved stone staircase leading up to her personal accommodations on the second floor.

On the main floor she had a large bar which was accessed by walking through two trees which grew up through the roof. In the basement was a small bistro, complete with six tables covered with red tablecloths. She lived in a small farmhouse across the road; the castle was where she held her parties.

I am a bit leery of mentioning any of her supposed eccentricities. I have read numerous accounts on-line but as to how true they may be, I can’t say. I’ll just put these under “supposed things she has done.”

Some say she enjoyed shocking the shop keepers in the near-by town of Brattleboro. She would keep her money tucked in her bosom or in a garter she wore, flashing the merchants when she paid them. She was also “supposedly” fond of driving in her 1927 Packard wearing a fur coat…and nothing else. She was often accompanied by a monkey on a leash.

I also read that she ran a house of prostitution and a speakeasy but as to the reality of these tales, they came from the internet. I can remember my father telling me; just because it is printed in the newspaper doesn’t make it true! A wise man once said “Consider the source!”

When friends visited from NYC she would host parties for them. She would overlook the festivities sitting in an elaborate cobra backed chair. (Another rumor has it that the chair was stolen from the house and used as a throne at the prom of a local school)

Sadly her finances couldn’t support her party lifestyle and her fortune dropped into the poverty levels. She left the area for a few months and when she returned the house had been vandalized, china had been used for target practice and other items were stolen. She never returned to “The Castle” again.

The castle caught fire in 1962 leaving only the stone foundation and the large curved stairway reaching up…to nothing. She had moved into a rest home and after not being able to pay those bills, was moved to the county poor farm where she died in 1965.

            The property was eventually turned over to The Society for the Preservation of New Hampshire Forests. Trails have been made through her woods where the remains of her party house, her castle, still stand.

A sign beside a small parking lot and a scenic lake tells a bit of her life. A short walk brings you  into the woods and to the ruins that Madame Sherri called home.

Coincidence or What?

 

                Every so often, the world throws you one of those weird events, pure happenstance but still enough to make you wonder about them.  Chances are they were nothing more than a bit of serendipity but then again, perhaps it could be our minds slipping out from beneath the blanket that covers them.

                More than once, in fact many times, I have been reading books with similar plot lines or subject matter. For example just a week or two ago I had picked up a couple books. One was from a sales cart and the other from a local library. The first dealt with a young man in the 1800’s who went into the Wild West searching for bones of dinosaurs. (Dragon Teeth by Michael Crichton) The second one was the modern day tale of a young FBI agent who requests help from an archeologist to solve a crime. ( The Scorpions Tail by Preston and Child) Needless to say, I got confused a couple times, especially since I was reading them both at the same time! I am constantly getting books with intermingling subject matter.

                This has happened to me countless times.

                How about getting the premonition that a policeman will be sitting alongside the road soon and just as you round the bend, there he is. Maybe it is just a common thought and I just don’t notice it since usually there isn’t any policemen sitting near-by. Whenever I see one, the thought digs itself deeper in my mind…

                Today I had called my friend Frank and had left a message on his phone. Then I started cutting the lawn. My hearing isn’t what it used to be and the mower is noisy but I thought I heard the phone ring. I shut off the mower and pulled out my phone. It was dead, no calls had come. I flipped it closed, (yeah, I know…flip phone. HA) and as I did that, the phone rang. It was Frank returning my call.

                Coincidence or premonition? I’d like to opt towards the premonition, mainly because it sounds cooler! Ann Marie and I have done this a couple times in the past. Two minds thinking the same way!

                Speaking of Ann Marie, looking forward to visiting with her nephews for the first time in ages, she was heading to Beaver Falls today. I was going in to work. I had stopped at City Books and visited for awhile and then was heading to Emsworth to watch trains and read my book before I did the final drive to work. Nearing the McKees Rocks Bridge I wondered how AMB would have gone to Beaver Falls, take the road I was on or the turnpike. The turnpike would probably be quicker I guessed.

                I zipped through the traffic light at the bridge and saw a blue Honda ahead of me. I thought, “That can’t be her, I just thought about her!” Getting closer I could finally see the license plate and damned if it wasn’t her.

                I pulled alongside and tooted the horn. We pulled into a parking lot, got out and laughed about seeing each other. What a coincidence, (?) she was running a little late, I was going towards work and we ran into each other. To make it more interesting, I had just thought of her a mile or two before I saw her.

                It brightened up both of our days. The question is, was it just mere happenstance or was it something deeper?

                Being human and having the desire to discover and further enlighten our lives, I’d like to think it is something more than just pure chance. I want it to be cerebral; I want it to be our minds connecting on a higher plane.

I have always thought that we are all born with certain abilities which as we grow up are lost because of the way we are taught.  During our childhoods we are taught that these “things” aren’t normal, they just don’t happen. The fables which accompany any ethnicity, “They are only stories. They didn’t really happen. You didn’t actually see that, you only imagined it. It is only a chance encounter…” We are told that our dreams mean nothing.

We need to think outside of what we are taught. Maybe we do have abilities that we aren’t aware of. You know, we only use a small portion of our brains capabilities.

Dream on, enjoy the things life gives us and believe in the impossible!

Now, don’t these things always happen in threes…

The Walloomsac Inn in Bennington Vermont

 

Bennington is Vermont’s front door. Coming into the state from New York is entering a picture perfect world. All the postcards you’ve seen are right there in front of you. Old stylish houses trimmed with elaborate moldings, white picket fences, mountains sitting in the background with deep blue skies complete with a puffy cloud or two drifting though.

Well, it might not be quite as spectacular as that but when you enter this state you enter a different way of living. I have only visited it as a tourist but I have to say it is one of my favorite places. How can you complain about a state that outlawed billboards?

Traveling rt.7 across the state, there are two large cities on either end.  Bennington sits in the east, next to New York and Brattleboro in the west, next to New Hampshire. History abounds in both cities. There are stores filled with souvenirs and restaurants to satiate your appetite. Both have bookstores, and that is always important for a city to have! The Bennington Bookstore is the oldest in the state.

There is one place in Bennington where I have stopped numerous times. Coming into town on the side of the road is a large hotel. Three or four stories tall, covered in old grey wood, cracked and bent. Balconies with thick ivy curling around the banisters and shutters with their slats falling from the frames cover the sides. Tattered curtains hang in the windows. Could it be haunted? Just imagine what it looks like in late October!

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 (Pictures will enlarge when clicked)

I can’t help but pull over and take a couple pictures every time I pass through town. A little bit of internet search brought up some facts about the place, including its name.

Pre- 1974

It is the Walloomsac Inn and was originally built back in 1771! Named after the near-by river, it is the oldest hotel in Vermont. The original section of the building is still standing. The hotel is located across the street from a beautiful white church where Robert Frost is buried.

The front entrance – date unknown

 In the days before the railroads came to Bennington, this was a stagecoach stop and the owner had rooms to rent to the travelers. It took 4 days to travel between New York City and Bennington. The fare was $9. The inn has been called various names including The Dewey’s Tavern , The Hicks Tavern and The Walloomsac House. It was a very busy spot in town. After the railroads came business dropped a bit but it continued on until 1996 when it closed down completely.  The hotel was sold in 1891 to the Berry family who still live in it.

There is a ballroom on the second floor and many parties and social gatherings have been held there. Some of the inns more famous guests were Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, both before they became presidents. President Rutherford B. Hayes and President Benjamin Harrison both stayed there also! Slightly different types of guests were the British soldiers who are rumored to have been kept as prisoners of war in one of the sheds behind the inn during the Revolutionary War.

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The back section, the most photographed, was built in the late 1890’s. Even though the building appears to be falling down, there is a brick structure underneath the wooden surface. It is in better condition than it looks, apparently.  To put it back into good shape would cost a fortune so chances are it will continue to sit alongside the road, catching the attention of passing drivers.

Front entrance of the original building – 4.25.21

The urge to explore hits me every time I pass it by. Imagine dancers in stylish clothes swaying across the floor to the sounds of a band in the ballroom, now dusty and unused… rooms sitting empty for decades filled with the spirits of travelers who visited in the past. I’d love to explore it, one of these days…one of these days!