Edit: alive - was told by the surgeon that I have great fat tendons making for an easy harvest. Thanks ecstatic dance, contact improved, biking, and general active ox-like lifestyle. Rehabbing in southwest Chicago burbs...
I completely tore my anterior crucial ligament (ACL) a stabilizing structure that controls rotation and forward and backward motion of the knee. I will be getting reconstructive surgery on 5:15 am January 10th 2014 by Doctor Leonard, with Doctor Redondo assisting, and Doctor Borden on anesthesia. But let's rewind a bit an explain how we got to this point.
The setting: I have been swooped up by captain a and first mate w to escape from the urban jungle of Oakland and head up north to be immersed in the redwoods at The Farm in Mendocino. My interest is twofold : to immerse myself in the experience that is Mendocino and breathe it's clean, pure air in addition to meeting with j, the maintainer of the property to hear of his hopes/plans to host a natural building festival termed Cobstock on the property. We arrive in mendo by the light of the moon but not before stopping to hug a big stand of redwoods by the side of the road, breathing big lungfuls of crisp air, and gazing at the now visible starry splash of the Milky Way. We arrive on the Farm and make camp under the redwood trees, w sleeping curled among the roots like a mouse.
We wake to the sound of the birds chirping in the trees and sunlight streaming in slotted beams through the dense canopy. As we head to the barn we are informed that a young male goat has escaped through a hole in the holding fence. This is mountain lion territory...
I head out with j and a bucket of feed which he frequently shakes while doing a pitch perfect bleat. We charge through the wild pacific coastline noting a beautiful and diverse range of wild mushrooms and stopping every few steps to bleat and shake the grain bucket. At one point we hear a faint bleat to our right hand side and charge through the brush in that direction. We see bobcat scat and bear scat evidencing that it is fond of getting into the farms apple orchard. We no longer hear bleating and after some time continuing the ritual I learn that there are hundreds of miles of wilderness that the farm backs up against, causing our likelihood of locating the goat to be slim. The survival of the buck seems slim as it is would be an easy and exotic snack for a mountain lion.
We head back to the property and captain a commandeers the vessel to experience the quaint and quirky town of Mendocino. We cruise through town at a leisurely pace, and it reminds me of a costal mountain town of low houses and unique details at every turn. Whether it is the water towers turned houses, to the mom and pop shops selling ceramic birds, the food cooperatives, or the local music venues. Our vessel is piloted to the coastline which is right next to town, and I climb down the rocky sandy crags to reach the waters edge. I feel the smoothness of the ocean polished rocks and gaze at the colorful collections of seaweed, effervescent mussel shells, driftwood, and ocean detritus and dip my hands into the foamy water. I have been to this place in my dreams.
Eventually we split up and I set out to visit the local art gallery. On my way there I run into two folks sitting at a folding table covered in a local comic book called 'Mendosphere' and I give the artist and his companion a healing hug. I continue on my way to the art gallery which contains many photographs of the area, an extensive collection of cast brass birds, and an exquisite table carved of wood ravaged by ship worms causing it to look like Swiss cheese.
The next day I am told that there is work needing to be done gleaning apples from the orchard and a and w decide to head into town to shower. I am outfitted with an apple picker (a basket with claw opening on one side mounted on a long extendable rod) and the orchard and lone trees scattered around the property that needed tending. I ask if I should leave any apples on the tree (as an offering of thanks to the bounty of the earth and as a gift to the animals) and I was told, 'no take them all off, or else they will just rot on the tree.
[long story short (gotta get some sleep before surgery) I use a ladder to get up to the top of the old growth redwood stump that the apple tree is growing out of, and just as i swing my legs over the trunk and get my weight up a wasps' nest swarms up out of the stump and begins stinging my left hand. I scramble down the ladder, get caught in the blackberry brambles which encircled the stump, and wrench my knee in my haste to get down. the pain was so immense i had to dissociate somewhat from my body to be able to concentrate on getting the wasps off of me and getting away from their nest (i am fortunate that i have developed the capability to do this in certain situations)]