More About My Back

I have decided to double-post today because my queue is getting long again. While some of those putative entries will likely be trashed, I will still have too many gathering cyber dust.

When I posted of the 1994 Olympics and my back attack, some readers had questions. I think these excerpts from a 2010 post answers at least some of those questions. I've added the headings to make it a bit easier to follow.

The Onset

My troubles had begun one Sunday after I had gone to the gym. I hadn't done anything terribly strenuous that day but had spent quite a bit of time on the Stairmaster. On the way home, my back felt uncomfortable, but I thought little of it as I had experienced spasms and twinges from time to time for several years. It was the same on Monday morning, but off I went to my teaching job with my fellow car poolers, and I became more and more uncomfortable as we drove past the flat fields of rural Lambton County.

Soon after I started walking around the school, my back became even worse, and I realized that I wasn't going to make it. Fortunately, the first period of the day was my spare, so I had time to prepare some materials and drag myself around the school to photocopy some handouts for the supply teacher. I called Sue to come and get me after informing the vice principal that I had to go home. "I'll see you in three days," I said, because my history with muscle spasms had informed me that I should become ambulatory in that time frame

On the Floor

Except it wasn't muscle spasms this time around but a bulging L4-L5 disc. For weeks, I was unable to sit or stand for more than a few minutes without terrible leg pain, for that's where the pain was always worst. I could barely get through a shower before I was forced to throw myself on the floor in search of relief. Thankfully, I could be fairly comfortable when I was prone, preferably on my stomach.

I say that I was on the floor for six weeks, but I think it was eight weeks before I actually got back to work. In the subsequent years, I have experienced constant numbness in my left leg and foot, but I have never had a total repeat of that back incident. However, I remain constantly aware of how fragile my back is, and I have to be very careful how I sit and move. Fortunately, despite some limitations, such as giving up tennis, I have been surprised to be able to carry on a normal life, for I thought that I would have experienced another major incident or two by now. In the back of my mind, I still rather expect worse to come to worst someday, but I also remain hopeful.

More of Sue in White

Awhile ago, I posted a photo of Sue on the town hall staircase, dressed in white to fulfill one of her photo prompts. I said that I would get around to posting more photos, so as a man who tries to keep his word, here we are.

When I saw the window light at the top of the staircase, I thought we should try some more photos using that light. They are more traditional portrait photos (although by phone), but I like the above photos better. I often prefer the compositional aspect of seeing the subject in situ. But here are the others regardless.

    

Sue did not use any of the photos that I have posted either here or in the initial post for her group. She chose one on the stairs but with her sunglasses on. You can see it here on her Flickr newish stream if you like.

In the previous post, someone wondered about her hat. Actually, it is a Linda Lundstrom headband, which Sue purchased more than two decades ago. I don't have further details, but this link takes us to the general site, and I have copied and posted their blurb, below. Sue has a Lundstrom coat; it is considered to be somewhat upscale winter wear.

Linda’s experience spans over 34 years in the Apparel Industry designing and building the Linda Lundström brand and a state-of- the-art Canadian Lean manufacturing facility. Recognized by the fashion industry, business, manufacturing, educational institutes and the community. She is the recipient of numerous awards, including three honorary Ph. D.s. She was named to the Order of Ontario in 1995, and the Queen Elizabeth II Diamond Jubilee Medal in 2013. She is recognized as a champion of First Nations awareness and ethical manufacturing practices — proud to use the label ‘Made in Canada’.

No Reminders Required

I am not amongst those who are mesmerized by the Olympics, but I will turn them on occasionally out of a sense of duty. On Saturday morning, among other events, ski jumping was being featured. Aside from finding it boring in the present, I was reminded just how mind-numbing it was back in February 1994.

There I was, lying very uncomfortably on the floor in the middle of the night. I tuned the tv to The Games and was treated to ski jumping — hour after interminable hour, or so it felt like and still feels like in retrospect.

I had been mostly on the floor for weeks after a back attack of bulging discs. I could barely sit at the table long enough to eat a quick meal before the pain in my leg would become overwhelming, forcing me back to the floor. We had a waterbed at the time, which wouldn’t have been helpful for a misaligned back, so I also slept (sort of slept and sort of not slept) on a mattress on the floor beside the bed when I wasn’t lying downstairs in the family room  

That particular morning, I had been about to leave for physio (I could drive that far in a few minutes) when I had a severe spasm that instantly put me onto the floor almost unable to move. I pretty well stayed there throughout that day and then throughout that long, lonely, miserable night. It was before the internet, and all that I had to occupy my hours was the tv, and all that the tv had on, or close enough anyway, were the Olympics. Unfortunately, the thing that was playing was ski jumping. 

It was a rather dismal night. I don’t think I got any sleep in my uncomfortable predicament even though hour after hour of ski jumping should be enough to send anyone into a state of stupor.

I was more or less out of commission for two months, and my body has never been the same as it used to be since then. 

So, on this past Saturday morning, as I sat in my chair, doing this or that on my tablet, probably reading blog posts, I was not at all amused to be aware of ski jumping being featured. After a time, I extricated myself from the chair, wobbled over to the computer, and turned it off because the ski jumping was only bringing me back to that miserable night within a miserable two months.

It happened thirty-two years ago, but I really don't require any reminders.

Brutal Weather

What a Friday night — apparently! I emphasize "apparently" because I was unaware of the weather conditions at the time due my poor hearing. Sue, she of highly acute hearing, reported that the howling wind and rattling windows affected her repose greatly. I was unaware, even though I was experiencing a rather light and restless sleep.

There was not a huge amount of snow accumulation, but there was a lot of drifting. I went out momentarily to try to capture the drift by our front door, for it almost always drifts somewhat in there. I thought that the shovel would show how deep the drift was, but the snow was so compacted that I could not even force the shovel into the snow. There were probably at least 18 inches of hard snow below the shovel.

Then, I tried to take a video, so I could let blog people hear the how ferocious wind was howling, but apparently, I misfired and only captured the inside of my pocket when I beat a hasty retreat from the merciless cold and wind. The reported temperature was -21C/-6F with a windchill of -30C/-22F although I think the wind chill was even worse than what was reported. It was brutal.

Although I failed miserably outside, I did get a couple of pics from my den.

The drifting behind the satellite across the street is profound,
but other sections were swept clear.

An interesting shape on our garage roof.

It’s even colder (-25C/-13F) on this Sunday morning. No walkie again today, I guess. Meanwhile, I see that is abnormally warm on the west coast. 

Caturday 88: Out of Africa and Around the Globe

I have stumbled upon a very interesting YouTube channel: Sleepy Time History. Their presentations are usually several hours long and designed to help put you to sleep and not keep you on the edge of your seat. However, they are often so interesting that I would like to stay awake, so, I will sometimes switch to them during the day.

After having heard more than one anthropological podcast on the rise of our homo species, which I found both very informative and interesting, I came across two podcasts about cats. I am not sure that I kept awake all of the way through either one, but I found them interesting, and since it is Caturday, I will post a bit of what I think I remember, but don't bet your academic thesis on any of this without further corroboration. ;-)

Although there are various species of small cats in the world, every single cat of our somewhat domesticated variety is, like humans, African in origin — every single one, all over the world, and, apparently, the DNA from modern cats varies very little from that of the African wildcat.

The descent of cats from Africa is a complex and fascinating story. Genetic evidence suggests that domestic cats (Felis catus) are descended from the African wildcat (Felis lybica ). (Google AI)

African wildcat, Felis lybica 

Cats became honoured and domesticated in Egypt, probably at least 10000 years ago. This came about as part of the Agricultural Revolution, for as humans began to store grain, rodents were attracted and their numbers boomed. In turn, the plentiful rodent numbers attracted the African cats (Felis lybica). By feasting on the rodents, the cats became a great boon to human civilization by helping to preserve the harvest while also reducing rodent-generated disease.

Over time, the cats became venerated by the Egyptians, and I believe that one fact that I heard in my sleepy state was that a temple was discovered that had the remains of 30 000 cats — all embalmed, if you please.

Although cats were greatly favoured and protected in Egypt, some found their way onto boats, quite possibly smuggled in some cases, and they began to populate themselves throughout the Mediterranean region. For the same reason as before - rodent control - Felis lybica became important in Rome, both on land and on their hundreds of boats. They made as far as Britain by the first century CE and also to East Asia via caravan trade routes. 

The cats managed well wherever they went, living on the edges of humanity. Then, something unfortunate happened in 1233 when Pope Gregory decreed that associated cats—particularly black cats— might be used of Satan and demonically linked along with their humans. 

This became a very unfortunate time for, perhaps millions, of cats who were killed, and it has been said that some were tortured. If more cats had been around, perhaps the Black Death would have at least been mitigated somewhat, for with fewer rats, there would have been fewer fleas to transmit the dreaded disease.

Fortunately, the Reformation and Renaissance were beneficial for cats, and they then spread to the rest on the world on ships, just as they had earlier spread throughout the Roman Empire.

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I love the Sleep Time History YT channel and think it is possible that you might too.

Relaxing history explorations designed to help you unwind and fall asleep. Discover ancient civilizations, forgotten empires, and incredible human stories - told in a calm, soothing voice. Learn while you rest. Our stories are crafted with respect for history. We use AI tools to assist with research, script drafting, narration, and imagery, while we polish the final narrative. Our videos blend research with creative storytelling designed for entertainment and relaxation. They are not intended as formal academic or scientific sources. All images are AI-generated artistic impressions and may not represent actual historical people or events.

Two links to Sleepy Time Cat History

How Cats Chose Us: The Secret History of Feline Domestication | History for Sleep 

The ENTIRE History Of Cats | 10,000 BC To Today | HISTORY FOR SLEEP

White and Ice

I had my first physio session for my wrist yesterday after irritating a ligament when shovelling snow. It seems like such a minor reason to invoke physio, but it's darn irritating. Afterward, I picked up Sue to take her to townhall for her photo prompt, which involved a selfie, stairs and the colour, white, assuming of course that white is a colour.

She adopted some poses, and I became her tripod, taking photos under her direction. I'll post one now for the sake of the narrative, but I reserve the right to make another post in the fullness of time. It was the first one we took, but, of course, we took others because you never know.

It was lunch time, so we picked up coffee and turkey bacon club sandwiches at Tims and took them to our usual winter spot. I know that you will be both surprised and disappointed to learn that we did not take our usual car and coffee selfie.

As we finished our repast, we looked up to see white spots on the far bank of the river. By golly! They were the trumpeter swans, which are also white, and this is Sue's white photo week.

We trudged through the snow from the car to the river. Well, I trudged, but I think Sue flew. You can see her in the red circle.

We both got there and took pictures, but the blasted critters were hanging out on the far bank. When we got back to the car, didn't they swim to the near riverbank? Sue went back, but that trekking had been enough for my sorry foot, so I remained put.

The trumpeters visit every winter, but we never know whereabouts on the river they will appear. We like to catch them if we can. In the background of the next photo, are goldeneye ducks. We seldom see anything but mallards.

While we're here, I would like to show you where the ice stops on the river. From where Sue was standing in the red circle photo (above), if I look upstream, slightly to the left, I see where the ice cover ends abruptly because the channel is narrowing and that increases the velocity of the flow.

From the same spot, I looked downstream and saw free-flowing water with no ice to speak of.

17

I don't know quite how it happened, but my grandson, Jonathan aka JJ, has completed his 17th sun-circuit. It came very quickly, just like his birth 17 years ago. I was called to their house in the middle of the night to be there for Danica while Sue, Sha and Dad drove to the Almonte hospital. They were back in no time flat.

For now, I have decided to do postcard-style greeting cards rather than the traditional folding cards that I have been creating for so many years. You may recall me posting this photo last fall when he planted some tulip bulbs for us while doing acrobatics on the spade. I just added the text for the birthday greeting.

He requested Mary Brown chicken for birthday supper and cookies, rather than cake, for dessert. Sha ordered, and we picked up the food on our way over.

Then, the usual things occurred, depending on one's interpretation of usual, I suppose. 😎