A misplaced friendship, a desire to be a good person to a child, and an idea for an ABC, or an Alpha, Bravo, Charlie series. Letters, real physical letters, and the offer of an opportunity that I had to learn to write, rejected as too much trouble.
Well, that's fine, really. I do understand about unwelcome gifts. And demons with the most important lessons. Had to deal with one of mine today, tiring, but I comforted myself with the certain knowledge that I am her demon as well, and a dark, deep, and demanding one at that.
D and I talked about the past year, which pretty much looked like we expected, although it tasted altogether different, and the pleasures far outweighed the pain, always for me, and eventually for D as well. And we cherished the day M & R visited with their lovely children. Which reminded me of the abecedary I'd started.
I want to start it again, write more and to a purpose. Maybe start a sister blog with just those posts, so that the children of friends can visit. Spread the international phonetic alphabet far and, well, at least a little way aways.
Dancing and alphabetizing. Yeah, that's a good start.
When I shelved books for a (meagre) living, I referred to aide derived mis-shelving as Creative Alphabetization. The order is so ingrained in me, I learned it all backwards as a child - for fun, and used this skill for several bouts working for libraries. If I could make enough, I could have happily shelved books all my life. I may well return to it to supplement retirement - if I ever can retire.
Maybe I should do this backwards.
Oh, yes, I really could.
hehehe.
Good to finally have a cunning plan.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Turnings
Every day, every moment, the universe changes. Usually slowly, subtly. Time and again suddenly, violently. So in our lives sometimes we notice, other times not, those gradations from one reality to another, or jerking shifts that awaken us with a start.
My childhood is full of the latter, mostly in a sad, frightening and disappointing way. They stay with me, but my reality shook constantly, then, hard to differentiate startling revelations from normal growth spurts. The death of Santa and the empty stockings, or my father's threats, or being told "Who asked you" by older children at the corner when I was five and I offered my opinion.
When I was perhaps 20, sat by a dark, snowy lake, late, solitary, and befriended the blackness, and my fear. At 26, alone, surrounded by strangers in barracks, and learned that Everything I Know is Wrong. The slow turning of a huge freighter in mid ocean, from a life with chaos to one of peace. A disbelieved I Love You wrapped in a first kiss. A disownment embraced, then enforced, along with the renunciation of one name and rooting of another. A glimpse at the unwelcome but not unpleasant face of death. Informed I had a lovely smile, and suddenly knew how useful that could be. A letting go, and a coming home. Facing a chattering demon, knowing I was a silent demon in return.
Ah, I say. I swallow it down, puzzle it out, sort it through.
Aha.
My childhood is full of the latter, mostly in a sad, frightening and disappointing way. They stay with me, but my reality shook constantly, then, hard to differentiate startling revelations from normal growth spurts. The death of Santa and the empty stockings, or my father's threats, or being told "Who asked you" by older children at the corner when I was five and I offered my opinion.
When I was perhaps 20, sat by a dark, snowy lake, late, solitary, and befriended the blackness, and my fear. At 26, alone, surrounded by strangers in barracks, and learned that Everything I Know is Wrong. The slow turning of a huge freighter in mid ocean, from a life with chaos to one of peace. A disbelieved I Love You wrapped in a first kiss. A disownment embraced, then enforced, along with the renunciation of one name and rooting of another. A glimpse at the unwelcome but not unpleasant face of death. Informed I had a lovely smile, and suddenly knew how useful that could be. A letting go, and a coming home. Facing a chattering demon, knowing I was a silent demon in return.
Ah, I say. I swallow it down, puzzle it out, sort it through.
Aha.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Whatnots
The moon behind the clouds.
The snow illuminating the garden.
An angled angel atop the tree, with lei.
A cat finding an excellent place to take a bath.
The snow illuminating the garden.
An angled angel atop the tree, with lei.
A cat finding an excellent place to take a bath.
Cha-cha
Whatever my plan for this space, I will dance every non-working day of the coming year. And write what I danced to - oh conscience of mine. Started a bit today, since there is no point in waiting. Can't remember what songs played, though. Funny, that. Words and music do not rest in the same place in my brain. May have to plan a playlist ahead of time. Lovely that I can turn on music in one room, while D works on his compositions in the other. Rather like one can have a light on while the other sleeps. Never a feature of apartments, and my appreciation bubbles over.
Shoveled around the drive, threw down de-icer. Got the full compost tub out, which also involved shoveling. Hit down icicles. Cold, but bracing rather than penetrating.
We lit out to Sugarhouse early-ish, cat treats and a comic book, and a fruitless browse around a catalogue store where I occasionally find treasured bargains, then stopped for lunch at Crown Burger. The latter a local fast-food chain, cheap good burgers and fries, and source of the odd craving - usually on Sunday when they are always closed.
Warmed the house and read, cat much demanding of laps, enjoying sunlight streaming in goldenly.
Planned to post photos, but the camera battery needed charging.
D laid on the sofa for a nap, not too long followed the cat.
"Oh, ho! What's this then? I'll just hop up here. Take a nice leisurely bath."
He's still there, although D has moved on, playing his guitar in the music room.
Shoveled around the drive, threw down de-icer. Got the full compost tub out, which also involved shoveling. Hit down icicles. Cold, but bracing rather than penetrating.
We lit out to Sugarhouse early-ish, cat treats and a comic book, and a fruitless browse around a catalogue store where I occasionally find treasured bargains, then stopped for lunch at Crown Burger. The latter a local fast-food chain, cheap good burgers and fries, and source of the odd craving - usually on Sunday when they are always closed.
Warmed the house and read, cat much demanding of laps, enjoying sunlight streaming in goldenly.
Planned to post photos, but the camera battery needed charging.
D laid on the sofa for a nap, not too long followed the cat.
"Oh, ho! What's this then? I'll just hop up here. Take a nice leisurely bath."
He's still there, although D has moved on, playing his guitar in the music room.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Sticky
The week between, as at the top of a roller coaster rise, when we become weightless. The direction changes, an acceleration that feels like hesitation and motionlessness.
My usual day off, I'd been wrangled into accepting the shift, then called off it again when only two rooms were scheduled. Slept, no dreams of moving, although up with the cat at 0300. Slow moving, rose around 8, cat fast asleep on the stool by the heater. Eventually shifted enough to get out and shovel.
Back, hips, knee, thumb, complaining at me for the strange work, and lack of usual standing and walking around movement. Never did check what next week would look like, if we were open Monday or not. I think we are, but I'm not sure. Don't mind, either way.
Grey day, cold, persistent snow, not accumulating much. Feel like I want something, but without a clear idea what. Nothing, a place to go I suppose. Lethargy drifting in.
Perhaps I need to redefine, set myself a writing project, construct a template. Give the formlessness an armature. Give my vague thoughts something to stick on.
My usual day off, I'd been wrangled into accepting the shift, then called off it again when only two rooms were scheduled. Slept, no dreams of moving, although up with the cat at 0300. Slow moving, rose around 8, cat fast asleep on the stool by the heater. Eventually shifted enough to get out and shovel.
Back, hips, knee, thumb, complaining at me for the strange work, and lack of usual standing and walking around movement. Never did check what next week would look like, if we were open Monday or not. I think we are, but I'm not sure. Don't mind, either way.
Grey day, cold, persistent snow, not accumulating much. Feel like I want something, but without a clear idea what. Nothing, a place to go I suppose. Lethargy drifting in.
Perhaps I need to redefine, set myself a writing project, construct a template. Give the formlessness an armature. Give my vague thoughts something to stick on.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Load
Dishwasher running, first of two loads. Everyone full and off to other houses. Stuffed, actually. On the rare occasions I cook, no one leaves hungry unless they really want to. I don't push, but I feed. Green beans (fresh) done to soft perfection, D's excellent chili, and broiled chicken (in case anyone was not in the mood for chili - everyone was though) baked potatoes and cheese, salsa, sour cream and corn chips, salad. Nibbles on the coffee table, dried fruits, carrots, olives, marinated artichoke hearts (FIL's weakness) celery, dips, crackers. All the best we can manage, to make sure the sun rises.
Oh, the ball of incandescent plasma will allow the planet to orbit as usual, but unless we mark the turning of the year, the sun will not come up. So we light our lights and candles, warm the abode and present our treat food, and hope for whatever we hope for.
Not that I consider Hope as an ideal, sometimes it's all we get.
I get one more day off, to rest and heal. The two days of work are an unknown as yet. Two days, though, feh, nothing.
Sun shining in, low and bright. Glad we let last evening go, not expecting anyone to drive through driving snow on dicy roads. This morning proved lovely, and much safer.
Food is all stored, no need to cook for the best part of this week.
Sun dropping low, time to close down and settle. Winter just starting. Husband one's resources.
Oh, the ball of incandescent plasma will allow the planet to orbit as usual, but unless we mark the turning of the year, the sun will not come up. So we light our lights and candles, warm the abode and present our treat food, and hope for whatever we hope for.
Not that I consider Hope as an ideal, sometimes it's all we get.
I get one more day off, to rest and heal. The two days of work are an unknown as yet. Two days, though, feh, nothing.
Sun shining in, low and bright. Glad we let last evening go, not expecting anyone to drive through driving snow on dicy roads. This morning proved lovely, and much safer.
Food is all stored, no need to cook for the best part of this week.
Sun dropping low, time to close down and settle. Winter just starting. Husband one's resources.
Stockings
Nothing as wonderful as a good night's sleep. Knowing there will be something in one's Christmas stocking. Yes, we looked around the house*, found something given and loved, and put them in each other's stocking. All the surprize, none of the shopping. We really don't need or want presents as such, but we give each other needed gifts all the time. This is a way of saying, "I know what you like." And another chance to say, thanks, as well.
This mug qualified as my favorite this year. D got his favorite incense, guitar picks, a marble and birthday candles. All mean a moment, a memory - not a recent shopping trip. I still love the steel bowl set he gave me our first Christmas home - because it meant he listened and believed me. I didn't want anything pretty or romantic, I needed a good mixing bowl, and only wanted a practical gift. Nothing else. His willingness to give me something so dull and utilitarian, when he'd be much happier giving a silly toy or sparkly earrings, spoke so clearly of a patient and accepting love.
I sat to invite Moby to my lap. Near the space heater. We all got exactly what we want.
In our House.
Another honest-to-bast hotflash, walked outside in my pj's, left bare footprints in the snow. D was going to salt the walk, but I claimed it. Put on shoes and jeans and a t-shirt, and swept snow. Admittedly my hands started to hurt, but I was not cold. Very weird phenomenon. Uncomfortable, not horrible, mostly just damned odd.
Santa Baby caught in my head, used this moment from Community as an antidote. D and I both laughing breathlessly.
*Still have to remind myself House, not Apartment.
This mug qualified as my favorite this year. D got his favorite incense, guitar picks, a marble and birthday candles. All mean a moment, a memory - not a recent shopping trip. I still love the steel bowl set he gave me our first Christmas home - because it meant he listened and believed me. I didn't want anything pretty or romantic, I needed a good mixing bowl, and only wanted a practical gift. Nothing else. His willingness to give me something so dull and utilitarian, when he'd be much happier giving a silly toy or sparkly earrings, spoke so clearly of a patient and accepting love.
I sat to invite Moby to my lap. Near the space heater. We all got exactly what we want.
In our House.
Another honest-to-bast hotflash, walked outside in my pj's, left bare footprints in the snow. D was going to salt the walk, but I claimed it. Put on shoes and jeans and a t-shirt, and swept snow. Admittedly my hands started to hurt, but I was not cold. Very weird phenomenon. Uncomfortable, not horrible, mostly just damned odd.
Santa Baby caught in my head, used this moment from Community as an antidote. D and I both laughing breathlessly.
*Still have to remind myself House, not Apartment.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Awaiting
Snow delay. Having Christmas brunch instead. Not quite blizzard conditions, but windy and very thick since just after noon, not ideal driving for the family. We called, offered to postpone, they discussed, agreed, and we adjusted.
Got a little disappointed as the previously scheduled time arrived, poor me, oh deary. Still, I'd hoped to share the lights in the evening, rather lovely in here. Got myself in a bit of a Mood, as I sometimes do. D eventually suggested a walk. Nothing like walking around the block in stinging, persistent snow to help me realize we'd made the right choice. Nothing like feeling worse to make us feel better.
Tomorrow will be brighter, tomorrow is fine.
Finally saw Brave. Had me in tears, and laughing, and all the feelings of good animation from when I was little. I really don't get why some folks have told me it was a bit thin. Correction, had both of us sobbing. Gorgeous and funny and powerful, a truly mythic tale.
And D showed me the Vanishing of Pato, La Scomparsa di Pato which he'd watched some evening when I was way too tired to read subtitles. I could tell I liked it, so made him promise we would watch it together another time. Which we have done.
We will have enough to eat. This is the important bit.
Got a little disappointed as the previously scheduled time arrived, poor me, oh deary. Still, I'd hoped to share the lights in the evening, rather lovely in here. Got myself in a bit of a Mood, as I sometimes do. D eventually suggested a walk. Nothing like walking around the block in stinging, persistent snow to help me realize we'd made the right choice. Nothing like feeling worse to make us feel better.
Tomorrow will be brighter, tomorrow is fine.
Finally saw Brave. Had me in tears, and laughing, and all the feelings of good animation from when I was little. I really don't get why some folks have told me it was a bit thin. Correction, had both of us sobbing. Gorgeous and funny and powerful, a truly mythic tale.
And D showed me the Vanishing of Pato, La Scomparsa di Pato which he'd watched some evening when I was way too tired to read subtitles. I could tell I liked it, so made him promise we would watch it together another time. Which we have done.
We will have enough to eat. This is the important bit.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Receipt
1940's Bread Pudding with rum sauce.
An inexact recipe, with inadequate directions or pan recommendations, but no matter, it has always turned out well even if I adjust and forget stuff.
Soak 4 Oz raisins for 1-2 hours in rum.
Preheat oven to 325
Mix together
1 Pound day old Bread ( 1/2 inch cubes) Drier works better. A mix of white and wheat is nice, but all wheat doesn't work well.
1 Tablespoon Cinnamon
1 Tablespoon Nutmeg
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
2 Tablespoons Baking powder
4 OZ Raisins - the ones Soaked in rum 1-2 hours. I tend to use more than is called for, and this seems to work just fine.
4 OZ Peaches, drained Same here, I use whatever is in a can.
Mix together- then add to above
5 Eggs
1 Pound Sugar
1/4 Pound melted Butter
Mix together -then add to above
1 Quart Milk
2 Tablespoons Vanilla
2 Tablespoons Rum Extract
Pour into baking pan, about 10X14 I think, adjust according to what you have.
Bake about 30 minutes or until it doesn't jiggle and turns brown on the top.
Rum Sauce Better (in half)
(1) 2 Tablespoons Sweet Butter
(1/8) 1/4 Cups Flour
(2) 4 Cups Milk
(1/4) 1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla
(2) 4 Teaspoons rum extract
(1) 2 Teaspoons Rum (the left over from the soaked raisins works well
(1/4) 1/2 Cup Powdered Sugar
(1/8) 1/4 Cup Eagle Brand Milk.
Mix and heat slowly stirring constantly over low heat...until it is hot I guess, I lost this part of the recipe. Treat as you would any heated milk, taking care not to curdle the milk.
D rolled the blanket up and pushed the stool closer to the heater, to make Moby happy. Seems to have worked.
Oranges
Dreaming of the cat and gathering grass clippings, while moving to a new place. Anxiety at the anniversary. Why this move into the House was so searing is still a bit of a mystery to both of us. Busy at work, but not as busy as this year is. Smaller into bigger, no flights of stairs, a week to shift it all, enough help. A winter move - but the weather held mild. We shake our heads, only knowing it hurt a lot more that time, no adequate diagnosis. Something broken in us from the previous move, is all we can guess.
No hot flashes last night, so I slept until 7. Resting today, then cooking. Chili is best on the second day. D wonders why he associates Mexican food for Christmas, since he certainly never had it on holidays in childhood. Also, 7-Up with cranberry juice - which he did. For me, it's nuts - a big bowl of mixed nuts to crack and eat, with a Coke - having neither this year. Both of us have fond memories of the jellied, canned cranberry sauce - with the lines.
Christmas day for us means one thing. Having food on hand. From that first one together, stuck in Ft. Collins, the Army not letting us know that a meal was being served at the chow hall until after it was over. The couple score of us left with family care packages full of sweets, and a drunken Irish priest of a chaplain pushing alcohol. Neither of us drank, D because he doesn't, me because I won't on an empty stomach, the sweets palled quickly. Late in the day, oranges appeared - our Christmas miracle. We scarpered off with them to devour in peace.
We swore we'd always at least have food on Christmas. MHR. Minimum Holiday Requirements. So far, so good. Yesterday, doing shopping for the Eve Dinner, we made damn sure we would have sufficient on the next day - when we'd have a very hard time finding an open restaurant or grocery store.
And I'm not driving. Preferably not until I have to drive to work on Thursday.
We don't exactly go wild with the lights, but they are pretty.
Moby hanging out with his warm friend. D put down the blanket. Once we left the room, Moby noticed it and had a wonderful idea. Sit on the blanket next to his friend - the space heater.
No hot flashes last night, so I slept until 7. Resting today, then cooking. Chili is best on the second day. D wonders why he associates Mexican food for Christmas, since he certainly never had it on holidays in childhood. Also, 7-Up with cranberry juice - which he did. For me, it's nuts - a big bowl of mixed nuts to crack and eat, with a Coke - having neither this year. Both of us have fond memories of the jellied, canned cranberry sauce - with the lines.
Christmas day for us means one thing. Having food on hand. From that first one together, stuck in Ft. Collins, the Army not letting us know that a meal was being served at the chow hall until after it was over. The couple score of us left with family care packages full of sweets, and a drunken Irish priest of a chaplain pushing alcohol. Neither of us drank, D because he doesn't, me because I won't on an empty stomach, the sweets palled quickly. Late in the day, oranges appeared - our Christmas miracle. We scarpered off with them to devour in peace.
We swore we'd always at least have food on Christmas. MHR. Minimum Holiday Requirements. So far, so good. Yesterday, doing shopping for the Eve Dinner, we made damn sure we would have sufficient on the next day - when we'd have a very hard time finding an open restaurant or grocery store.
And I'm not driving. Preferably not until I have to drive to work on Thursday.
We don't exactly go wild with the lights, but they are pretty.
Moby hanging out with his warm friend. D put down the blanket. Once we left the room, Moby noticed it and had a wonderful idea. Sit on the blanket next to his friend - the space heater.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Spout
Coming down. Slowly, and not easily. A steep descent. Up through the night, flashing hotly, a huge wave and nothing to do but ride it out. Remaining sleep a bit disturbed, but enough. Still up early, and walked over to get last remaining ingredients for Bread Pudding, mostly because I am carried away by the momentum of the past month. Washed far ashore, gasping and yearning - if no idea exactly what for.
Cooking for D's family is not a problem. They are kind, and grateful diners. I have never felt a word of criticism from them on my food nor my housekeeping. Quite the opposite. Still, I want to do my best, put on a nice spread. Positive reinforcement really works.
Out, then out again, then again. Restlessness of the exhausted. Too worn out to really settle, discomforts prod me to one more task, I clean inefficiently, dither over trifles, stop myself from starting what needs to be last minute tasks. Amazingly, some work gets done.
Moby likes grass, and drinking out of the spout.
Cooking for D's family is not a problem. They are kind, and grateful diners. I have never felt a word of criticism from them on my food nor my housekeeping. Quite the opposite. Still, I want to do my best, put on a nice spread. Positive reinforcement really works.
Out, then out again, then again. Restlessness of the exhausted. Too worn out to really settle, discomforts prod me to one more task, I clean inefficiently, dither over trifles, stop myself from starting what needs to be last minute tasks. Amazingly, some work gets done.
Moby likes grass, and drinking out of the spout.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Seven
Seven cases. Anesthesia hurt us with ten and fifteen minute wake-ups - after dressings were on. Normal is around three minutes out of the room. With one case that ran long, this put us two hours behind. Painful. Very tired, late, sore. Hand room with nine cases finished first.
And I have experienced real hot flashes. My thermostat was reset a few degrees up about five years ago - which helped in the cold OR. Today, I wondered if I'd developed a weird fever. I furnaced and flushed, returning to normal a few minutes later. Very odd feeling, rather uncomfortable, helped by a washcloth with rubbing alcohol around the back of my neck. Used to do that for a scrub tech, years ago, for the same reason. Worked rather well.
Potluck for the holidays, I brought rice, and the store pesto I can't eat for the garlic. The latter got well eaten, the rice less so - but I think largely because it got swamped. Oh, the sugar. Mucho azucar. The smell of it nearly killed any appetite I had. So glad I didn't bring any desserts. The Bread Pudding I'm planning is not very sweet, rich & filling, but not over sweet. Good not to be hungry at the end of such a long, hard day. After tomorrow, five days away.
This is such a blessing.
Moby is on my legs, crashed out, blissed out. Purring with a chirping overtone for a long time, until he slipped into a deep and heavy sleep.
And I have experienced real hot flashes. My thermostat was reset a few degrees up about five years ago - which helped in the cold OR. Today, I wondered if I'd developed a weird fever. I furnaced and flushed, returning to normal a few minutes later. Very odd feeling, rather uncomfortable, helped by a washcloth with rubbing alcohol around the back of my neck. Used to do that for a scrub tech, years ago, for the same reason. Worked rather well.
Potluck for the holidays, I brought rice, and the store pesto I can't eat for the garlic. The latter got well eaten, the rice less so - but I think largely because it got swamped. Oh, the sugar. Mucho azucar. The smell of it nearly killed any appetite I had. So glad I didn't bring any desserts. The Bread Pudding I'm planning is not very sweet, rich & filling, but not over sweet. Good not to be hungry at the end of such a long, hard day. After tomorrow, five days away.
This is such a blessing.
Moby is on my legs, crashed out, blissed out. Purring with a chirping overtone for a long time, until he slipped into a deep and heavy sleep.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Elegance
Dry run, for Christmas Eve dinner here.
Making sure the table will easily seat six. It will, comfortably. I'm struck by the elegance - at least in my old-renter's eyes. Bad dream of having to move from a large apartment to a former, smaller one, people have already moved some of our stuff, and I'm telling D that I really, really don't want to move, is there any way we can just stay? Involved, very real dream, woke upset and only slowly remembering we are not apartment renters these days, but have a house we love. Drifted not quite asleep until D left, then got a couple of hours of deep morning sleep.
This lovely room reassured. Put up lights inside the window. Planning dinner, D decided he would make his chili, I will do Bread Pudding with Rum Sauce. Baked potatoes, green beans, and whatever fresh fruits and vegetables look good.
The calendar a gift to each other. The cranes a housewarming for our dear cousins who just signed on a smaller house. We'll send them once we know they have moved in. Until then, they hang around here.
Wit beer. And my writing space. Will have to vacate for the cooking portion of this holiday. Sun streaming in, air cold and crisp. Preferable to the dank, dark misery of 35F and rain/snowing. I'll take a biting 20˚F with brilliant light any day. A good, cold snow is fine as well. It's the middling muddle that unhinges me.
"Move along, my chair."
Keeping the music room cozy, with a space heater and closed doorways. Moby knows where to stay warm.
Making sure the table will easily seat six. It will, comfortably. I'm struck by the elegance - at least in my old-renter's eyes. Bad dream of having to move from a large apartment to a former, smaller one, people have already moved some of our stuff, and I'm telling D that I really, really don't want to move, is there any way we can just stay? Involved, very real dream, woke upset and only slowly remembering we are not apartment renters these days, but have a house we love. Drifted not quite asleep until D left, then got a couple of hours of deep morning sleep.
This lovely room reassured. Put up lights inside the window. Planning dinner, D decided he would make his chili, I will do Bread Pudding with Rum Sauce. Baked potatoes, green beans, and whatever fresh fruits and vegetables look good.
The calendar a gift to each other. The cranes a housewarming for our dear cousins who just signed on a smaller house. We'll send them once we know they have moved in. Until then, they hang around here.
Wit beer. And my writing space. Will have to vacate for the cooking portion of this holiday. Sun streaming in, air cold and crisp. Preferable to the dank, dark misery of 35F and rain/snowing. I'll take a biting 20˚F with brilliant light any day. A good, cold snow is fine as well. It's the middling muddle that unhinges me.
"Move along, my chair."
Keeping the music room cozy, with a space heater and closed doorways. Moby knows where to stay warm.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Soup
It's been a long time since I meme'd.
1. add the award icon to your blog
No, thanks. Anyway, no one sent me one.
2. link to your nominator to say thank you.
Thanks, Soup.
3. post 11 facts about yourself.
I am 50. I have lived in 15 places. I have had one cat. I have one degree - a BS in nursing. I've attended two universities. I've worked in 4 hospitals. I served 8 years, 6 active, in the 144th Evac Hospital Utah National Guard. I spent 4 months in Saudi Arabia during Gulf War I. I own one house (at the patience of the bank.) Have owned five cars. I have zero children. I have lost count of how many jobs I've worked.
4. answer the questions the tagger has set for you.
If I must.
5. create 11 questions for your nominees to answer.
6. choose up-and-coming bloggers with less than 200 followers, go to their blog, and tell them about the award.
RR and Rou, if you are interested… . Feel free to answer some of Soup's questions if you prefer.
1. add the award icon to your blog
No, thanks. Anyway, no one sent me one.
2. link to your nominator to say thank you.
Thanks, Soup.
3. post 11 facts about yourself.
I am 50. I have lived in 15 places. I have had one cat. I have one degree - a BS in nursing. I've attended two universities. I've worked in 4 hospitals. I served 8 years, 6 active, in the 144th Evac Hospital Utah National Guard. I spent 4 months in Saudi Arabia during Gulf War I. I own one house (at the patience of the bank.) Have owned five cars. I have zero children. I have lost count of how many jobs I've worked.
4. answer the questions the tagger has set for you.
If I must.
1. If a lemonade stand fell from a tree in your neighbour's front yard, would you change your mind about what would be the next movie you would watch?
My neighbour doesn't have a tree in the front yard.
2. When the rain falls outside and it is warm out, do you stay indoors at all costs or does your behaviour not change with respect to being outdoors?
We go for a walk in the rain, per our vows.
3. How old were you when you first learned to ride a bicycle; if you don't remember, make up your answer, if you don't know how to ride a bike, lie, I won't know the difference.
Summer between 1st & 2nd grade, however old that is. Tired of being taunted for riding a tricycle by a neighbor boy.
4. How comfortable are you with lying?
To protect my privacy from someone being nosy that I don't like, perfectly. Although, even then, I prefer to ignore or be simply evasive. Generally, I think lies are an erosion of character.
5. If your favourite TV show was cancelled without warning, would you do something about it?
No. Everything ends, such is life. And I have such odd tastes I expect any show that I like will likely be cancelled. I.e. The Tick, The Good Guys, Frank's Place.
6. If you had the choice to become super motivated to exercise more, or super motivated to eat less and properly, which of the two motivations would you prefer to have? Why?
Not a matter of motivation, but that I tend to injure myself when I exercise more. I'm not an over eater either. So, I suppose if the motivation came in the form of it not hurting or causing damage, I'd love to enjoy being more active.
7. Do you have a favourite colour?
Purple, dark and intense. But not for cars - that are best in red or blue. Houses are best in red or creamy white, sometimes green, or natural materials.
8. If you had unlimited funds to buy, own and operate a car, what car would you buy?
Oh, the same one I have, maybe get a racing stripe painted on it. If I get another one, perhaps a scooter.
9. If there was one enormous infrastructural project that you would like to see happen in your city, or anywhere in the world, what would it be?
A complete replacement of roads with trains - perhaps largely solar powered. Eliminate cars as a main mode of transport.
10. If you answered question number 7 with anything other than yes or no, did you read the first of the five words that I used to describe me?
Damn literalist. Just because I choose to ignore your instructions does not mean I didn't understand them.
11. Why do you think this meme is made of up groups of 11 components?
Mental Floss used to do a lot of 5 and 10 lists, until 11-11-11, when they did a series of 11 lists. I suspect this started a bit of a craze. Since 12-12-12, I think we will see more lists in dozens.
5. create 11 questions for your nominees to answer.
1. Do you have a favorite blanket, or other bit of fabric? Please describe.
2. Do you take good care of your feet? In what way, or not as the case may be?
3. What is your comfort food? Just something easy when you are tired or not feeling well?
4. What is your favorite aggregate website? Or, news, or webcomic?
5. Do you have any small skill, like braiding or pen flipping or whistling?
6. What is the most beautiful sort of dog or cat to you? Please describe.
7. Are your hands generally cold or warm?
8. If you see someone at work (or in public) napping, do you want to cover them with a blanket, or tie their shoe laces together?
9. Name a tv show, movie or book that you love, that most people you know have never heard of. Have you recommended it to anyone who then wasn't interested?
10. You can have the original of any piece of art, what would you want on your wall?
11. You are getting a good massage from a therapist you trust, what is the best bit?
6. choose up-and-coming bloggers with less than 200 followers, go to their blog, and tell them about the award.
RR and Rou, if you are interested… . Feel free to answer some of Soup's questions if you prefer.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Damp
Snowing steadily, hovering at about freezing, a damp-cold still. Keeping the thermostat well up today. Cat had to go out, not for long, I bothered not with the leash, not needed. He let it snow on him, avoided the ground snow, sat on a clear rock in the hedge and watched the droppings from the leaves. Crawled out through, had to put paws in the cold stuff, once out tried to shake his paws while running - slipping crazily.
Neighbor renting her house to a friend, after a month or so of moving out herself. We've tried to keep an eye out, pick up trash. Moby helped by wanting to explore her front yard, imply a presence there. Mail carrier kept leaving the mailbox flap open - with the large, bright yellow VACANT notice visible, we keep putting it back down. She left a thank you note on our door yesterday, with a TJ's gift certificate. We will use some of it as a welcome gift - probably in the form of cookies - for the new renter.
Both of us a bit ill, sore and tired. Tis the season. Unrestful nights, difficult days, viral sniffles. The overwhelming, as the pain woke me through the night, not D's snores and congested breathing.
Dark days, as there always have been, as there always will be. Shattering our illusions of safety. As the acts of kindness and courage shatter our bleak pessimism. It is all of a piece, and we light the tree in the depths of winter.
Neighbor renting her house to a friend, after a month or so of moving out herself. We've tried to keep an eye out, pick up trash. Moby helped by wanting to explore her front yard, imply a presence there. Mail carrier kept leaving the mailbox flap open - with the large, bright yellow VACANT notice visible, we keep putting it back down. She left a thank you note on our door yesterday, with a TJ's gift certificate. We will use some of it as a welcome gift - probably in the form of cookies - for the new renter.
Both of us a bit ill, sore and tired. Tis the season. Unrestful nights, difficult days, viral sniffles. The overwhelming, as the pain woke me through the night, not D's snores and congested breathing.
Dark days, as there always have been, as there always will be. Shattering our illusions of safety. As the acts of kindness and courage shatter our bleak pessimism. It is all of a piece, and we light the tree in the depths of winter.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Ornaments
In retrospect, I think a mild migrane smacked me. Able to manage it this morning, although I remained fragile headed all day. Gloomy, murky day, gusty disturbing winds, Moby went out for a half minute and decided that his fur had been ruffled plenty.
So, I decorated the tree. A slow and meditative process. After we ran some idle errands mostly to get out of the house a while. Found some lovely ornaments at a thrift shop, a good way to replace the inevitable losses of the years. A star and a house - which seemed completely appropriate. I believe in an encrusted yule tree, everything on it. Including the lei from the Trader Joe's opening dropped around D's neck.
Add a few lights that I got last year, or the year before. I forget - haven't seen the stuff for two years. Never unpacked it last year because of the impending move.
Moby waited by, watching me. He's never been destructive, may bat a low hanging ornament around on principle each year, but otherwise leaves the tree alone.
This does leave me in better emotional balance. Beauty and remembrance. Not nostalgia, no wish for the past, landmarks, points of reference.
So, I decorated the tree. A slow and meditative process. After we ran some idle errands mostly to get out of the house a while. Found some lovely ornaments at a thrift shop, a good way to replace the inevitable losses of the years. A star and a house - which seemed completely appropriate. I believe in an encrusted yule tree, everything on it. Including the lei from the Trader Joe's opening dropped around D's neck.
Add a few lights that I got last year, or the year before. I forget - haven't seen the stuff for two years. Never unpacked it last year because of the impending move.
Moby waited by, watching me. He's never been destructive, may bat a low hanging ornament around on principle each year, but otherwise leaves the tree alone.
This does leave me in better emotional balance. Beauty and remembrance. Not nostalgia, no wish for the past, landmarks, points of reference.
Therapy
Hard night, multiple dreams of long, involved errands, all pointless and unaccomplishable. But Moby got to run up and down a long, long, long hallways in one dream. At one point I was carrying a horn through a building, up and down stairs because a large stage in the center prevented staying on the same floor, construction and performers littered the halls. Couldn't find several old acquaintances, only a crazy woman trying to get used garden hoses delivered. Coats were delivered from the dry cleaner, as they took other items back. I rearranged my childhood bedroom properly, my mother got angry, but I rebuked her - as it was no longer her house and I'd bought it myself. The old school friend of D who once made of nuisance of herself here spotted me at TJ's, and wanted to come see the house.
Head and neck aching through the night. Moby came and purred, kneading near my shoulder, settled down beside my hip, and I laid a hand on him. He nestled and rolled to his back. Woke sore and foggy, working on everything. Warm gusty winds ruffling the roof.
Small mystery solved, about why Eli, Ely is connected to Yale University, at least as far as crossword compilers are concerned. Elihu Yale, quite a character.
Considering my mother's complaints about "grudges." Why did she never consider the person might have a legitimate reason for simply not liking the other? That not forgiving someone who isn't sorry, and never asked forgiveness, may not be quite the same as "holding a grudge?"
Going to spend some time with self acupuncture this morning, after a hot bath, along with the massager.
Head and neck aching through the night. Moby came and purred, kneading near my shoulder, settled down beside my hip, and I laid a hand on him. He nestled and rolled to his back. Woke sore and foggy, working on everything. Warm gusty winds ruffling the roof.
Small mystery solved, about why Eli, Ely is connected to Yale University, at least as far as crossword compilers are concerned. Elihu Yale, quite a character.
Considering my mother's complaints about "grudges." Why did she never consider the person might have a legitimate reason for simply not liking the other? That not forgiving someone who isn't sorry, and never asked forgiveness, may not be quite the same as "holding a grudge?"
Going to spend some time with self acupuncture this morning, after a hot bath, along with the massager.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Chairs
Moby has always liked D's chairs.
This time, it might be serious.
He taps D with his paw.
When D does get up, cat gets on the chair.
He sleeps there at night.
This time, it might be serious.
He taps D with his paw.
When D does get up, cat gets on the chair.
He sleeps there at night.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Pouches
I wear a pouch at work. Occasionally I get teased about it. So I tell how I threw away my first wedding ring. Put it in the scrub top pocket, scrubbed in on a case - got woozy and ill and went home. When I realized the ring was gone. Never to be found by me. So, I started wearing the butt-pack. No, I'm not going to call it the word Brits see as off color.
Then, the curiosity about what I keep it in starts. The answer used to be my wallet, in large ORs, where lockers were occasionally broken into. A few pens, scissors, and a few tampons. I never hesitated to just open it up and let the nosy take a look. Nothing like seeming overly open to protect one's real privacy.
This weekend, I put both everyday purse and work pouch through the laundry, in a knit bag (to keep the zippers scratching the washing machine drum.) This should be done once in a while. Purses harbor a lot of dirt and germs, especially when they are dropped on floors. I don't let that happen to mine, being very aware of sterile/clean/dirty areas. But dirt happens. They both look a lot better.
Dried them on the shopping cart in front of the vent.
I did not put everything back in.
Despite a great deal of care refilling both, I forgot my badge. It sat on the table, patiently awaiting my return. Couldn't get through some doors, couldn't clock in or out. Had to email the payroll person to give her my times.
This is rather unlike me, these days. Although once a common sort of problem. I have methods, double-checks, back-ups, to keep me taking care of these little, important, things, now. Litanies that must be recited to leave the door, my magic spells.
Familiar looking woman with the patient. She thinks she knows me from a hospital I've never worked at. I'm nearly certain I know exactly who she is, but I ask her name to be sure. I'm right, she was an officer in my guard unit, and a particularly difficult one - who made some stupid comment about the length of my hair every month at drill just to be chatty. I don't think she was entirely convinced that was how we knew each other, honestly. Weird interlude. Add to that, D had an army dream last night - another rarity these days that once was a regular feature of his sleep.
What we keep in, what we leave behind.
Then, the curiosity about what I keep it in starts. The answer used to be my wallet, in large ORs, where lockers were occasionally broken into. A few pens, scissors, and a few tampons. I never hesitated to just open it up and let the nosy take a look. Nothing like seeming overly open to protect one's real privacy.
This weekend, I put both everyday purse and work pouch through the laundry, in a knit bag (to keep the zippers scratching the washing machine drum.) This should be done once in a while. Purses harbor a lot of dirt and germs, especially when they are dropped on floors. I don't let that happen to mine, being very aware of sterile/clean/dirty areas. But dirt happens. They both look a lot better.
Dried them on the shopping cart in front of the vent.
I did not put everything back in.
Despite a great deal of care refilling both, I forgot my badge. It sat on the table, patiently awaiting my return. Couldn't get through some doors, couldn't clock in or out. Had to email the payroll person to give her my times.
This is rather unlike me, these days. Although once a common sort of problem. I have methods, double-checks, back-ups, to keep me taking care of these little, important, things, now. Litanies that must be recited to leave the door, my magic spells.
Familiar looking woman with the patient. She thinks she knows me from a hospital I've never worked at. I'm nearly certain I know exactly who she is, but I ask her name to be sure. I'm right, she was an officer in my guard unit, and a particularly difficult one - who made some stupid comment about the length of my hair every month at drill just to be chatty. I don't think she was entirely convinced that was how we knew each other, honestly. Weird interlude. Add to that, D had an army dream last night - another rarity these days that once was a regular feature of his sleep.
What we keep in, what we leave behind.
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Diner
The rains this week, mild December, lulled us. Last night, a cold snap and an icing of snow, but something in the grid broke in the wee hours, and we lost power for a dozen hours, along with thousands of others.
Cat seriously unhappy that we'd failed to provide the assumed sufficient Warm. Took over my chair and robe.
We both craved diner food, but had not found that sort of place in town. But yesterday, on a somewhat useless errand, D noticed a place he'd seen before, I'd heard of, but neither had considered eating at. We had no way to check if it was open on Sunday morning. I figured, at least the car has heat and a radio, let's drive.
Turned out, they opened at 0800, and served up exactly the kind of traveling, roadside, diner food we wanted. Homey, cheap, unpretentious, very standard, exactly what we wanted. When I asked for hot water in a mug, that is exactly what I got. (I don't like coffee, and tea is hopeless in US restaurants unless they are Chinese.) Friendly folks, pleasantly cheesy Christmas decorations. A woman put a plate with scones and honey butter on our table.
"Um, we didn't order this... "
"Can you accept a treat?" she asks. Well, yes we can. And thanks very much. Scones here are more fry-bread, these were pleasantly stretchy and yeasty, and the honey butter was mostly butter. A friendly banter filled the room, without intruding.
The food wasn't amazing, but it filled our expectations exactly, with three kinds of hot sauce on the table. We have every intention of going back, when we want comfort food on a Sunday morning. Warmed me right up.
Once home, I left my parka on until the power returned, when the room temperature read 54˚F. Took over an hour to warm the house back up.
Once warm, I cleaned. Then I set up the tree. Wasn't going to, not until the 15th, but I wanted cheering up, and this worked. Will wait to decorate.
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Colors
Cracked often has articles that I want everyone on the planet to read, however inappropriate. John Cheese in particular.
But this one is particularly potent, even for a non-comics, non-geek girl, as I am. Oh, I am eccentric, with odd interests and intellectual aspirations, and I find everything interesting. But I am an old style, dyed-in-the-wool feminist, and find this amazing. I've never been all that interested in comics, nor gaming, but I honor those who are.
I really thought, when I was in my 30's, that the kind of sexists like my father and his ilk, were on the outswing. That the sons of women born in my generation, would learn a different attitude at their mother's knee. Sad to say, I was as wrong as thinking that color bigotry would have dissolved as well.
So much of the dislike of our president by the conservative party and adherents is bigotry. I won't call it racism, we are all the same variety of the same species. But the dislike of the dark is ingrained in this culture, as is the hatred of the Other and the Poor - even by the poor themselves. The South still exists - as a mindset - as an entitlement. The poorest and the richest hate the stable middle classes, the richest of which see themselves as Rich. This seems to run deep, as black animals are last to be adopted. Which makes no sense at all. Since tameness and black&whiteness is correlated.
The world changes, and the smart accept and adjust. I never liked White Culture. Not slavery, nor monoculture, nor bland white food. Gimme some chipotle salsa and mandarin chicken, and I'll learn a bit more Español, with pleasure. Hell, add in some Korean humour and Sudanese cooking, and I'm all over it. Let the salad begin!
If we ever get to the point of adopting a dog, he will be black. Hopefully, will have Moby for a long time yet. But we have considered the possibility of a dog, if placid and cat-kind. It's only been a year, not even. But, yes, I would like a dog, were he kind to a Cat god. It's a thought, nothing more at this point. That I fell instantly in love with a lovely Heinz called Shorty(several weeks ago, he's been adopted by now, surely) has nothing to do with it.
But this one is particularly potent, even for a non-comics, non-geek girl, as I am. Oh, I am eccentric, with odd interests and intellectual aspirations, and I find everything interesting. But I am an old style, dyed-in-the-wool feminist, and find this amazing. I've never been all that interested in comics, nor gaming, but I honor those who are.
I really thought, when I was in my 30's, that the kind of sexists like my father and his ilk, were on the outswing. That the sons of women born in my generation, would learn a different attitude at their mother's knee. Sad to say, I was as wrong as thinking that color bigotry would have dissolved as well.
So much of the dislike of our president by the conservative party and adherents is bigotry. I won't call it racism, we are all the same variety of the same species. But the dislike of the dark is ingrained in this culture, as is the hatred of the Other and the Poor - even by the poor themselves. The South still exists - as a mindset - as an entitlement. The poorest and the richest hate the stable middle classes, the richest of which see themselves as Rich. This seems to run deep, as black animals are last to be adopted. Which makes no sense at all. Since tameness and black&whiteness is correlated.
The world changes, and the smart accept and adjust. I never liked White Culture. Not slavery, nor monoculture, nor bland white food. Gimme some chipotle salsa and mandarin chicken, and I'll learn a bit more Español, with pleasure. Hell, add in some Korean humour and Sudanese cooking, and I'm all over it. Let the salad begin!
If we ever get to the point of adopting a dog, he will be black. Hopefully, will have Moby for a long time yet. But we have considered the possibility of a dog, if placid and cat-kind. It's only been a year, not even. But, yes, I would like a dog, were he kind to a Cat god. It's a thought, nothing more at this point. That I fell instantly in love with a lovely Heinz called Shorty(several weeks ago, he's been adopted by now, surely) has nothing to do with it.
Friday, December 07, 2012
Noise
Long days, but I'm enjoying my work more lately. Got to choose my room and partner for today, a young man with the gift of silence. It looked like it would be the shortest room, which has been a guarantee lately that it would run longest. Not today, though. Got home quite on time, maybe a bit early.
Dressing in the morning with the other one who has no silence at all, huffing and humming as she dressed, knowing I would not respond to anything past "good morning." When another nurse came in, I could hear the relief as she could begin chattering away. My quiet is a burden to her, since she needs to talk about herself constantly, explain and excuse and dramatize. My chattering demon personified. I like to think I am her silent demon.
After our first case at full speed, no brakes, Dave* and I set up the next case, to wait for an hour to start again. We sat in the staff breakroom, I with the sudoku and crossword, him with the rest of the paper and his own thoughts. One of the aides came in, I offered some of my snack, which she had to comment on at length, then tell me I had to get the chocolate almonds at Costco, then that her hands were hurting from her exercise program - which she needed to be in ideal shape for her wedding next year in order to look good in the dress. This tiny, pretty young thing, not a thought in her head unshared, Dave raises an eyebrow at me when she rushes out, we laugh, and return to companionable quiet.
My D has always had that ability to simply sit by, no words needed, none wasted. One of his most endearing qualities. Watching Il giovane Montalbano, date in the episode 1 January, 1991. He tells me he remembers the date, I was very hungover and ill, as I'd gotten very drunk New Year's Eve in Ft. Collins as we waited to be sent. In my defense, I would not have another drink for five years after that, and suffered the end of a terrible year until my escape from the ex as much as from alcohol the night before. A catharsis a long time coming. That I then found the first waves of comfort, harbingers of trust, a beginning to real love, well I had to empty out first.
Waiting a little longer to put up the tree and lights, no need to rush. We leave it up until Epiphany usually. Feeling a strong sense of occasion building up this year, after last year's strains. So it goes, the difficult and painful times when we stretch and grow, followed by the peaceful easy times, when we rest and wait. Life turns this way, then that way, so we can experience it all, glory in it all.
Important to hear through the noise.
*You know, Dave.
Dressing in the morning with the other one who has no silence at all, huffing and humming as she dressed, knowing I would not respond to anything past "good morning." When another nurse came in, I could hear the relief as she could begin chattering away. My quiet is a burden to her, since she needs to talk about herself constantly, explain and excuse and dramatize. My chattering demon personified. I like to think I am her silent demon.
After our first case at full speed, no brakes, Dave* and I set up the next case, to wait for an hour to start again. We sat in the staff breakroom, I with the sudoku and crossword, him with the rest of the paper and his own thoughts. One of the aides came in, I offered some of my snack, which she had to comment on at length, then tell me I had to get the chocolate almonds at Costco, then that her hands were hurting from her exercise program - which she needed to be in ideal shape for her wedding next year in order to look good in the dress. This tiny, pretty young thing, not a thought in her head unshared, Dave raises an eyebrow at me when she rushes out, we laugh, and return to companionable quiet.
My D has always had that ability to simply sit by, no words needed, none wasted. One of his most endearing qualities. Watching Il giovane Montalbano, date in the episode 1 January, 1991. He tells me he remembers the date, I was very hungover and ill, as I'd gotten very drunk New Year's Eve in Ft. Collins as we waited to be sent. In my defense, I would not have another drink for five years after that, and suffered the end of a terrible year until my escape from the ex as much as from alcohol the night before. A catharsis a long time coming. That I then found the first waves of comfort, harbingers of trust, a beginning to real love, well I had to empty out first.
Waiting a little longer to put up the tree and lights, no need to rush. We leave it up until Epiphany usually. Feeling a strong sense of occasion building up this year, after last year's strains. So it goes, the difficult and painful times when we stretch and grow, followed by the peaceful easy times, when we rest and wait. Life turns this way, then that way, so we can experience it all, glory in it all.
Important to hear through the noise.
*You know, Dave.
Wednesday, December 05, 2012
Details
I found almond biscotti. In Boston, this would have been un-noteworthy. Here, the good stuff, has been rare and expensive (Whole Foods always makes me feel like I've been soaked.) Today, easy, reasonable, excellent, accessible. We'd probably prefer to walk to the North End and get olives and cannoli as well, but this will satisfy. We will always walk to this one.
We went back, for a different store, next door, with the car, for a chair†. Could not park. The place is still rushed, full, as a kind of desperation takes over. It's not that it is so wonderful, although it's quite good, but that it fills a void. So many in this city visit TJ's in other states, just for this one thing, or that one item. I expect we are getting traffic from a hundred miles around, for Avocado's Number* guacamole, for chocolate cherries, something unique that is deeply missed, and not replaced from the Usual Big Stores.
Some of the folks at work who wonder at one simple grocery store's evoking such passion remain baffled. Took me a while, after so many shoved us to shop there in Boston, to finally go. At first, I was not terribly impressed, although it was not the snooty, expensive, new-agey-health-foody place (i.e. Whole Foods) I'd expected. Once I learned what I liked there, nothing else quite filled that niche. They don't get it, and that's ok. More for the rest of us.
In Boston, we got used to the idea that one-stop-shopping was not on offer. We shopped every day, a bag or two - carried home - is quite enough. Different places had different items on offer, different strengths, different T routes. Browsing for food, or household goods was not a matter of going to one supermarket, but which grocery store, which Economy Hardware, how to get there, not have to carry too much back, or if we needed the shopping cart. The Brookline Shaw's for the cinnamon bread. The Fenway Star Market for produce, and Mexican imports. Pace's for meat, cheese, bread, olives, Italian desserts. Reusable bags were a necessity, not just the "green" option, but more reliable and comfortable. Which liquor store had which beer. Uptown Cafe for Chicken masala with ziti and meatball sandwiches - which I would pick up on Friday on the way home from work.
A lot of folks here would scoff. Why not just go to one place and get everything? Because a place that big will have everything, but no real variety. It will have the average, the popular, the good-enough-it'll-do.
People are shopping at Trader Joe's not just from this moderate sized city, either. But everyone in a 100 mile radius who's ever been to one elsewhere. They'll be down from Tremonton, up from Provo, over from Evanston and Tooele. In The City to shop, and stop at that place they have out in Las Vegas, or when they visited family in Portland or San Diego. Because the dominant church sends it's young all over, and some of them have converted to Joe-ism, and they know how to proselytize.
I'm just glad our lives are just a skosh easier. It's not a big change, really, but it's the little changes that really matter. A little chocolate, a wee biscotti.
It's a different world than it was ten years ago. Now, no one needs to live in an isolated, hick town. The world is our oyster cracker.
Oh, I got clam chowdah as well, but I forgot the Orster crackahs.
* A pun I find irresistible.
†D's back is not happy, and a bad chair/desk configuration is a huge part of the problem.
We went back, for a different store, next door, with the car, for a chair†. Could not park. The place is still rushed, full, as a kind of desperation takes over. It's not that it is so wonderful, although it's quite good, but that it fills a void. So many in this city visit TJ's in other states, just for this one thing, or that one item. I expect we are getting traffic from a hundred miles around, for Avocado's Number* guacamole, for chocolate cherries, something unique that is deeply missed, and not replaced from the Usual Big Stores.
Some of the folks at work who wonder at one simple grocery store's evoking such passion remain baffled. Took me a while, after so many shoved us to shop there in Boston, to finally go. At first, I was not terribly impressed, although it was not the snooty, expensive, new-agey-health-foody place (i.e. Whole Foods) I'd expected. Once I learned what I liked there, nothing else quite filled that niche. They don't get it, and that's ok. More for the rest of us.
In Boston, we got used to the idea that one-stop-shopping was not on offer. We shopped every day, a bag or two - carried home - is quite enough. Different places had different items on offer, different strengths, different T routes. Browsing for food, or household goods was not a matter of going to one supermarket, but which grocery store, which Economy Hardware, how to get there, not have to carry too much back, or if we needed the shopping cart. The Brookline Shaw's for the cinnamon bread. The Fenway Star Market for produce, and Mexican imports. Pace's for meat, cheese, bread, olives, Italian desserts. Reusable bags were a necessity, not just the "green" option, but more reliable and comfortable. Which liquor store had which beer. Uptown Cafe for Chicken masala with ziti and meatball sandwiches - which I would pick up on Friday on the way home from work.
A lot of folks here would scoff. Why not just go to one place and get everything? Because a place that big will have everything, but no real variety. It will have the average, the popular, the good-enough-it'll-do.
People are shopping at Trader Joe's not just from this moderate sized city, either. But everyone in a 100 mile radius who's ever been to one elsewhere. They'll be down from Tremonton, up from Provo, over from Evanston and Tooele. In The City to shop, and stop at that place they have out in Las Vegas, or when they visited family in Portland or San Diego. Because the dominant church sends it's young all over, and some of them have converted to Joe-ism, and they know how to proselytize.
I'm just glad our lives are just a skosh easier. It's not a big change, really, but it's the little changes that really matter. A little chocolate, a wee biscotti.
It's a different world than it was ten years ago. Now, no one needs to live in an isolated, hick town. The world is our oyster cracker.
Oh, I got clam chowdah as well, but I forgot the Orster crackahs.
* A pun I find irresistible.
†D's back is not happy, and a bad chair/desk configuration is a huge part of the problem.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Havingness
D calls it "havingness." That sense of being able to have something nice - comfortable with it, accepting it.
Love, or ease, or whatever brings one pleasure. A pet, a nice pair of slippers, a good suit, it varies.
Our friend Dave* once had a huge havingness deficit. Oh, there was money, but a certain lack of comfort, love, pleasure. K brought a lot into his life, although he still tended to err on the side of Gustavos†. Nonetheless, the net worth of his life increased when he had someone to protect and defend, who protected him as well.
The framed print is the epitome of my havingness. Gracious acceptance of beauty for beauty's sake, in my lovely wee home.
Today looked good on paper, the printed schedule, but I never trust that. Indeed, two rooms finished up before we got past our delayed fuster cluck - which turned out to be not so bad, then an add-on with a Big-Wig who was a chaotic-character. Thankfully, I had P who at least matched his energy, as we removed a huge splinter from his hand before he went out of the country in the morning.
Looking forward to soup.
No stones.
*Any Dave, you know the drill.
†Gustavo used to own Dave's house. The bizarre modifications, from indoor wiring for outdoor lamps, to a concealed closet with Camel cigarette merchandise hidden inside, and plumbing from an alien mind, became a byword among our friends.
Love, or ease, or whatever brings one pleasure. A pet, a nice pair of slippers, a good suit, it varies.
Our friend Dave* once had a huge havingness deficit. Oh, there was money, but a certain lack of comfort, love, pleasure. K brought a lot into his life, although he still tended to err on the side of Gustavos†. Nonetheless, the net worth of his life increased when he had someone to protect and defend, who protected him as well.
The framed print is the epitome of my havingness. Gracious acceptance of beauty for beauty's sake, in my lovely wee home.
Today looked good on paper, the printed schedule, but I never trust that. Indeed, two rooms finished up before we got past our delayed fuster cluck - which turned out to be not so bad, then an add-on with a Big-Wig who was a chaotic-character. Thankfully, I had P who at least matched his energy, as we removed a huge splinter from his hand before he went out of the country in the morning.
Looking forward to soup.
No stones.
*Any Dave, you know the drill.
†Gustavo used to own Dave's house. The bizarre modifications, from indoor wiring for outdoor lamps, to a concealed closet with Camel cigarette merchandise hidden inside, and plumbing from an alien mind, became a byword among our friends.
Monday, December 03, 2012
Affection
A framed poster. A better poster, not so much as a fancy print, not as cheap as - well, a free poster advertising an art exhibition say. Not the sort of poster to put thumbtacks into the corner, or tape up. It seems a simple thing, to actually get a frame, get a pro to do it properly, hang it well. But I've never done that before, only made do, called it good. Not like we didn't do this as inexpensively as possible, although more than we'd hoped - or entirely planned.
Every time it catches my eye, the rightness of it, I grin. Not just because it's beautiful - that was the point, the expectation. Even more, that we, probably for the first time in our lives, took the time, spend what was necessary, to really make it look right. That painting that drew us both when we met the original, we knew would find it's way to us in some form. For us, for this beautiful space we are so fortunate to have found, and get to keep, we wanted to honor that.
This is new, profoundly moving to me. Unexpected, that simple detail so rare in my life. Not just cobbling it together, and not for utilitarian ulterior motives. The blinds are done well, but those insulate. There will be other projects that I will do as well as possible.
That simple framed print somehow means a kind of commitment to doing it all as well as we can. A wedding present to this family, that now includes a house.
Beginning of another full week, starting with a late day. Reading in bed, snuggled down, well fed.
Moby snores on my feet. He's always preferred a lumpy place to snooze. Took a while for him to trust feet, but we were always careful and slow - showing him we could pet him with our feet ever so gently. Longer still for him to get used to the idea of a human head too near his body - that really freaked him out. We knew he really trusted us when I could nestle my head into his furry belly, and he would simply relax and roll further onto his back. Just as we gradually got him accustomed to being picked up - a moment, a wriggle, a delicate return to the floor. Until now, he loves a good hug, hooking his claws in and resting a chin on a shoulder. He made us earn his trust, which makes it all the more wonderful.
We are affectionate people, under the right circumstances.
Every time it catches my eye, the rightness of it, I grin. Not just because it's beautiful - that was the point, the expectation. Even more, that we, probably for the first time in our lives, took the time, spend what was necessary, to really make it look right. That painting that drew us both when we met the original, we knew would find it's way to us in some form. For us, for this beautiful space we are so fortunate to have found, and get to keep, we wanted to honor that.
This is new, profoundly moving to me. Unexpected, that simple detail so rare in my life. Not just cobbling it together, and not for utilitarian ulterior motives. The blinds are done well, but those insulate. There will be other projects that I will do as well as possible.
That simple framed print somehow means a kind of commitment to doing it all as well as we can. A wedding present to this family, that now includes a house.
Beginning of another full week, starting with a late day. Reading in bed, snuggled down, well fed.
Moby snores on my feet. He's always preferred a lumpy place to snooze. Took a while for him to trust feet, but we were always careful and slow - showing him we could pet him with our feet ever so gently. Longer still for him to get used to the idea of a human head too near his body - that really freaked him out. We knew he really trusted us when I could nestle my head into his furry belly, and he would simply relax and roll further onto his back. Just as we gradually got him accustomed to being picked up - a moment, a wriggle, a delicate return to the floor. Until now, he loves a good hug, hooking his claws in and resting a chin on a shoulder. He made us earn his trust, which makes it all the more wonderful.
We are affectionate people, under the right circumstances.
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Pal
Apricots and chocolate, a raspberry tart in the freezer, Fruity Joe's O's in my bowl*. D shares the last with me.
The framed poster is hanging, better than we imagined. It really pulls the room together.†
D's parents stopped by briefly on the way to shop at the new store. I tempted them with bits of my chocolate - which tells you in what regard I hold them that I am willing to share that chocolate with them. Well, since I can get more, now.
And I share the Krazy Kat book with Moby, and his collection of white whiskers.
He continues to hop into my lap with amazing regularity. Making up for all those years when he didn't want to at all.
"Be a pal! Or is it lap? Whichever, sit down, I'm hopping up."
*I miswrote bowel, first, which is accurate, but utterly fails to convey good taste.
†The Dude: [repeated line by The Dude and others] That rug really tied the room together.
The framed poster is hanging, better than we imagined. It really pulls the room together.†
D's parents stopped by briefly on the way to shop at the new store. I tempted them with bits of my chocolate - which tells you in what regard I hold them that I am willing to share that chocolate with them. Well, since I can get more, now.
And I share the Krazy Kat book with Moby, and his collection of white whiskers.
He continues to hop into my lap with amazing regularity. Making up for all those years when he didn't want to at all.
"Be a pal! Or is it lap? Whichever, sit down, I'm hopping up."
*I miswrote bowel, first, which is accurate, but utterly fails to convey good taste.
†The Dude: [repeated line by The Dude and others] That rug really tied the room together.
Saturday, December 01, 2012
Aches
Scant sleep, aches and pains, aches and pains. Taking Saturday to ease back into myself slowly. Comforts around me. Peace and a hot bath, good tea, watching the dogs and their people wander past my window. Life oscillates, for the sake of perspective. Not always hard - when we are learning, not always easy - when we rest.
December this year resembles the northwest, damp and mild, as we have our weather direct from them today. Suits. I miss talking with D because I worked so hard, but I'm too tired to talk or actually do anything much, but I want to talk and do something useful because I couldn't do it all week because... oh, poopie. At least I have chocolate.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Joe
D got a lei when he shopped at the new Trader Joe's three blocks away. It was jammed then. He got this image at 0805, amid the crush.
After my nearly dozen hours, he said he'd be glad to walk back over, if I was up to it. I can't say that I was, but I'm glad we did. Not often I really enjoy being in a crowd, but a cheerful one, once in a while, buoys me up. Long ago, I would visit Eastern Market on Christmas Eve morning, crisp and early, among the throngs buying cheeses and tea, cakes and Lebanese pastries, a treasured time.
It's not really about groceries, so much as about really good food, reliable stuff that just tastes right, and memories of Boston. Of all the adventures we've been on, that three years is unregrettable. D changed so much, perhaps I did as well. And walking to Trader Joe's, getting chocolate and fish-sticks and flowers, is all part of who we were becoming, who we are now. I can't explain more clearly why it's different, but it really is.
I don't think anyone working there today had any idea what it would be like, I assumed they would be mobbed all day long, and run out of items. Not just U students, but a lot of people living here are from elsewhere, and word spreads. And not just that it's new, because the Brookline TJ's on Sunday* afternoon was only slightly less busy. I asked the cashier, if she'd had any idea it would be like this, she looked a bit stunned, and said "none, no." All the staff looked exhausted, but still hustled along. I could utterly empathize.
Very hard week, not bad in any way, just hard. Ill on my day off, nyquil'd myself and went to bed very, very early two nights running. Got off at 1830 today, which I knew loomed ahead - now behind.
So, why did I want to walk to a grocery store at 7:30 after this week? Probably because it was raining. And we promised to always walk in the rain together.
*Large Jewish community there, close Temple Beth Zion, so they would walk, and fill the store. A cultural immersion experience.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Trains
Bhuwan Silhare Mumbai Local Trains 2010
This took my breath away.
I want to have a train around the living room. It would work.
Uneven
Something was needed, and I make this work. Uneven eating, up too early, my knee twinges for no apparent reason - but is calmer since braced properly. That weather that really isn't that cold, but seems to seep deeper, stain the mood, linger mournfully.
Good to have a few people over, only one of whom ate an actual meal - leaving us with too much food. D's younger brother warms any room, and Moby sits by him - taking the best chair in the process. His wife fits nicely, and we warm to each other. She's allergic to cats, which is part of why Moby got a bath last week. She didn't seem to have a reaction to him, and he didn't approach her - as we expected. They didn't stay long, but we were glad to spend time with them away from the rest of the kin.
Yesterday I grumped a bit, feeling idle and vaguely disappointed. We laundered and dried, folded and stowed, but that intermittent task jerked at my attention. So, I walked - further than I planned, and met three cats. One of those divided-face, brown & tan cats watched me as I ambled past. A small black cat kept close company in the little new-agey gift shop where I found this for the tree.
Long ago, our friend Ida, gave us her three Indonesian cat sculptures because we were sufficiently whimsical, and she planned to become a nun. That didn't work out for her, as, ultimately nothing did. (Although I hope there is a kind of heaven for her, or a gentle reincarnation, or at least a peaceful oblivion, since she had the deck stacked against her from the start, despite a brilliant mind and a great soul.)
The painted wooden cats now live with K & Dave, since we couldn't take them all when we moved to Boston, and the last one that roamed with us wound up there as well a few years ago. They are loved, which is all that counts in the end.
Another large black cat stared at me through shrubs on my way home.
Today quieted down, my knee insists on rest (and a brace - which I got it) so I accept.
For some reason, thinking last night about Aunt Mary, my father's older brother's wife. A large, loud woman with a wonderful smile. I didn't know her well enough to be comfortable, they lived a bit far for regular visits. One time, though I stayed with them a couple of days. She kept me up to watch Beach Blanket Bingo - which my mother would have strongly disapproved of. And she took me shopping with her - when she bought a large glass vase that was exactly what you would imagine circa 1970 in a home with gold painted mirrored wall and a black velvet painting of a toreador.
And I got to browse the toy aisle. With my mother, this meant a clear understanding that I could carefully enjoy all the toys, but that they stayed at the store. Exceptions being right before Christmas & birthday, when I was allowed to express a preference. Not being a greedy child, this was strongly internalized. And I could freely ogle all the toys.
So, when Aunt Mary asked me if I wanted the Barrel of Monkeys I was inspecting, I was stumped, I demurred, I outright refused, I urged her only toward the tiny version.
Then, she bought me the biggest one there.
Lots of bright pink plastic monkeys to chain together. I really didn't know how to be gracious, so alien this event in my small life. Very afraid my mother would think I'd begged for them, and I'd be in trouble.
Gifts can be burdens and lessons, both wrapped together.
Time off comes similarly mixed.
Good to have a few people over, only one of whom ate an actual meal - leaving us with too much food. D's younger brother warms any room, and Moby sits by him - taking the best chair in the process. His wife fits nicely, and we warm to each other. She's allergic to cats, which is part of why Moby got a bath last week. She didn't seem to have a reaction to him, and he didn't approach her - as we expected. They didn't stay long, but we were glad to spend time with them away from the rest of the kin.
Yesterday I grumped a bit, feeling idle and vaguely disappointed. We laundered and dried, folded and stowed, but that intermittent task jerked at my attention. So, I walked - further than I planned, and met three cats. One of those divided-face, brown & tan cats watched me as I ambled past. A small black cat kept close company in the little new-agey gift shop where I found this for the tree.
Long ago, our friend Ida, gave us her three Indonesian cat sculptures because we were sufficiently whimsical, and she planned to become a nun. That didn't work out for her, as, ultimately nothing did. (Although I hope there is a kind of heaven for her, or a gentle reincarnation, or at least a peaceful oblivion, since she had the deck stacked against her from the start, despite a brilliant mind and a great soul.)
The painted wooden cats now live with K & Dave, since we couldn't take them all when we moved to Boston, and the last one that roamed with us wound up there as well a few years ago. They are loved, which is all that counts in the end.
Another large black cat stared at me through shrubs on my way home.
Today quieted down, my knee insists on rest (and a brace - which I got it) so I accept.
For some reason, thinking last night about Aunt Mary, my father's older brother's wife. A large, loud woman with a wonderful smile. I didn't know her well enough to be comfortable, they lived a bit far for regular visits. One time, though I stayed with them a couple of days. She kept me up to watch Beach Blanket Bingo - which my mother would have strongly disapproved of. And she took me shopping with her - when she bought a large glass vase that was exactly what you would imagine circa 1970 in a home with gold painted mirrored wall and a black velvet painting of a toreador.
And I got to browse the toy aisle. With my mother, this meant a clear understanding that I could carefully enjoy all the toys, but that they stayed at the store. Exceptions being right before Christmas & birthday, when I was allowed to express a preference. Not being a greedy child, this was strongly internalized. And I could freely ogle all the toys.
So, when Aunt Mary asked me if I wanted the Barrel of Monkeys I was inspecting, I was stumped, I demurred, I outright refused, I urged her only toward the tiny version.
Then, she bought me the biggest one there.
Lots of bright pink plastic monkeys to chain together. I really didn't know how to be gracious, so alien this event in my small life. Very afraid my mother would think I'd begged for them, and I'd be in trouble.
Gifts can be burdens and lessons, both wrapped together.
Time off comes similarly mixed.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Chives
Up early, no surprize these days. Tea, cereal, then began the tidying. Have not managed the deeper cleaning I'd hoped to accomplish the last two days, but tis enough, t'will serve. For me to really clean, I have to have the mood on me, or it feels like another day at work.
Settling the roiling old stories, patting their hideous little heads, shushing them back down into their cold muck. Knowing that bullies are hurting and vulnerable really doesn't make their passing on of the pain and abuse any easier. Comprehensible, yes. But that they try to get rid of their own discomfort by giving it away does not lessen their suffering. It just spreads, like fire, like a tar baby, like a tar baby on fire.
Hoping today will bring a measure of comfort. I will coax it in, gently with smiles and clucks, however small. All kindness welcome, there will be baked potatoes with butter and sour cream. Too bad the chives grew so meagerly, but I know they tried.
Perhaps I'll take a hot bath, start fresh, warm and clean.
Settling the roiling old stories, patting their hideous little heads, shushing them back down into their cold muck. Knowing that bullies are hurting and vulnerable really doesn't make their passing on of the pain and abuse any easier. Comprehensible, yes. But that they try to get rid of their own discomfort by giving it away does not lessen their suffering. It just spreads, like fire, like a tar baby, like a tar baby on fire.
Hoping today will bring a measure of comfort. I will coax it in, gently with smiles and clucks, however small. All kindness welcome, there will be baked potatoes with butter and sour cream. Too bad the chives grew so meagerly, but I know they tried.
Perhaps I'll take a hot bath, start fresh, warm and clean.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Divan
Evening light trickling through the mild air. Feeling contemplative and a bit defensive. D less bothered by his older brother than I am, mostly I suspect because he hit a few of the old aches from my father. Not to lessen his difficulties with the guy, but when it's a father it's ground in deeper, if only because I was more dependent on a father. And anyone who treats D badly, is, in my view, Not A Very Nice Person At All. Which brings out the protective bulldog in me.
Rather uncomfortable, his "teasing" off base, self justified, niggling, self pitying, dumping half the blame elsewhere. His current wife commented that he still teased his brothers, and when he said "What kind of a big brother would I be if I didn't?" I whispered to D, "a good one." D smiled at me. Current wife seems a good egg, if not terribly interesting.
Strangely, everyone in the family has a cat or two, save only one who's spouse is allergic.
We ran away when we could, and will cook and welcome people tomorrow, if anyone shows up. We are not, for certain, expecting anyone. So, it will be food that is easily prepared and heated up. This is the sort of hosting we do pretty well, casual to the point of somnolent.
I can think of no higher praise than that someone feels comfortable enough to nap on our sofa.
Resonances
Waiting for a particular time is not our strong suit. We tend to wind up places early, get ready too soon, pace and finally just go. The cranberry sauce is done, bringing along a bit of smoked gouda and marinated artichoke hearts. Small treats.
Still another hour before time to drive out there. All but one of the five brothers will be present - I expect to hear a lot about (American) football. I'd prefer (soccer) football, especially to watch. At least there is a more balanced male:female ratio these days. SILs aplenty. One I have not met, and may never see again. That brother has a series and lives out of state. D tolerates him civilly, as I will. We've both been practicing "How 'bout them Lions?" The informality helps, time heals - or at least layers over.
Tomorrow is the day we are really most thankful for. This space, love human and feline, our own rhythms and silences and sounds.
This house resonates with us, and so talks to us of home.
Wave to the nice men at the end.
Still another hour before time to drive out there. All but one of the five brothers will be present - I expect to hear a lot about (American) football. I'd prefer (soccer) football, especially to watch. At least there is a more balanced male:female ratio these days. SILs aplenty. One I have not met, and may never see again. That brother has a series and lives out of state. D tolerates him civilly, as I will. We've both been practicing "How 'bout them Lions?" The informality helps, time heals - or at least layers over.
Tomorrow is the day we are really most thankful for. This space, love human and feline, our own rhythms and silences and sounds.
This house resonates with us, and so talks to us of home.
Wave to the nice men at the end.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Perennials
Painting, plumbing and ... poinsettias? Well, if the tax refund is sufficient, we will get work done on the old pipes. Galvanized and narrowing, they'll need replacing at some point. And I plan to paint a bit, especially the OD green bedroom, and a few of the ultra dark walls. I suspect poinsettias would grow pretty well, although they are hardly a favorite for me. Painting, plumbing and... pergolas? Pigs? Persimmons? Patience. Yeah, that one. Window panes. I'm slowly polishing window panes, scratched by ... well possibly tiny dogs, Pekingese? from what I understand of previous residents. Consistent with, as the pathologists say.
Cosmos, as recommended by Farmgal, certainly. Not even going to try strawberries next summer, until the soil is feeling better. That the compost has done well, the only aspect of my horticultural experiment that has, cheers me sufficiently for the year. A year ago, we were still only hoping. We have not had a whole year as custodians and caretakers, yet.
Put up cedar garland over the archway to the living room today. I may well get a bit silly about the Yule Tide this year. It's already started. D has been warned, and assures me he will never mock nor object. He's not big on holidays of any sort. I am just feeling a huge wave of gratitude and solstice celebration building up, such as I have not felt for a very, very long time. The darkness is welcome in, to get along with the warmth and candles.
Cosmos, as recommended by Farmgal, certainly. Not even going to try strawberries next summer, until the soil is feeling better. That the compost has done well, the only aspect of my horticultural experiment that has, cheers me sufficiently for the year. A year ago, we were still only hoping. We have not had a whole year as custodians and caretakers, yet.
Put up cedar garland over the archway to the living room today. I may well get a bit silly about the Yule Tide this year. It's already started. D has been warned, and assures me he will never mock nor object. He's not big on holidays of any sort. I am just feeling a huge wave of gratitude and solstice celebration building up, such as I have not felt for a very, very long time. The darkness is welcome in, to get along with the warmth and candles.
Softly
He really is very soft, quite beautiful. He seems much more comfortable.
A few nights before the BATH, he slept between our elbows, sat on my chest kneading my abdomen, then laid across my groin and thigh, then stomped a figure 8 over the bed - with us in it, until I got up, fed him (not interested) then got out a ribbon and got him chasing. He'd been persistently on us, very invasive, most of the week. And on me, which he generally doesn't do because I normally just sleep through it and he knows it just don't work.
Since the BATH, he has slept on his tree, on the sofa, comes in to nestle on our feet in the early hours only. I know he generally comes to me when something is wrong, as when he had a torn paw pad and gently bit my big toe as I put my sock on. As if to say "Look, I need some help here, pay attention!" So, we think, when he starts walking on us at night a lot, he's probably itchy and needs a BATH. Moisturizing shampoo, you understand, plus I put a few drops of olive oil in the water as well.
Cat was using my robe this morning, so I just got dressed.
A few nights before the BATH, he slept between our elbows, sat on my chest kneading my abdomen, then laid across my groin and thigh, then stomped a figure 8 over the bed - with us in it, until I got up, fed him (not interested) then got out a ribbon and got him chasing. He'd been persistently on us, very invasive, most of the week. And on me, which he generally doesn't do because I normally just sleep through it and he knows it just don't work.
Since the BATH, he has slept on his tree, on the sofa, comes in to nestle on our feet in the early hours only. I know he generally comes to me when something is wrong, as when he had a torn paw pad and gently bit my big toe as I put my sock on. As if to say "Look, I need some help here, pay attention!" So, we think, when he starts walking on us at night a lot, he's probably itchy and needs a BATH. Moisturizing shampoo, you understand, plus I put a few drops of olive oil in the water as well.
Cat was using my robe this morning, so I just got dressed.
Pester
Morning to myself in my home, up very early, D off to work, cat curled on my robe, on the bed. Much I want to clean, polish, shine today. But not quite yet, no need to rush.
Savoring yesterday, working with the special snowflake and all her baseless self esteem. Nothing ever her fault, or if it is - well it's not serious and "humans make mistakes." Loud, considers herself endlessly entertaining, a flatterer, distractor, flirt of the bad sort.* The most difficult of my demons to dispel, but yesterday, I managed to let it all roll away. I have imagined anger as a monster that feeds on more anger, and learned not to feed it. This is a somewhat different monster, but it also feeds on my irritation, and attention. I'm not sure how to describe how I succeeded in serving the needs in the room while not being stomped on by her neediness, and staying gentle and calm myself. Perhaps all the work finally just clicked into place, the final element was keeping my own thoughts neutral, even happy.
Yesterday was the anniversary of our activation, the main anniversary we always remember after 22 years. Knowing I had the next five days off, loving this holiday most of all, and reveling in our Year of the House. Demon asks me how I can be so calm when I will be on holiday the next day - "I'd be a wreck!" I was genuinely surprized, I told her that was exactly why I was cheerful, put up with anything for a day.
On Monday, she'd given full voice to everyone in earshot how the charge nurse called her lazy (or implied as much) on Friday, and what do nurses know about working 14 hours like she was working that day (normally, she only works eight, while the rest of us work tens) and this nurse was a bitch, and back around and around. She voluntarily is working in sterile supply after her scrub shift, not as if this is required.
Um. At least four of the nurses there also scrub - our job encompasses her job, and have covered 12-16 hour shifts. Granted, we don't do it as often now, and it's been a long time since I've done a 12 hour scrub shift - and it hurts. But we are all at least 20 years older than her, and have put in our time. Yeah, we get a good deal at this place, with actual breaks - which they don't get regularly, but we also do not get when we scrub.
When she is assigned to cover scrub lunches, she starts late, takes breaks for herself inbetween, and often doesn't get to the 4th room (if there is one) until 1300. The rest of us start early, and hurry from room to room to make sure we get everyone out as early as possible. Yesterday, not quite 1300, knowing there would be a problem with lunches anyway, she runs off in tears. Granted, partly this is because the surgeon has been correcting her all day long for all the things she's neglected or forgotten, and I'm no comfort to her. We are switching to a hand surgeon for the next two cases.
So, the charge nurse comes in to tell me Special Snowflake is upset, and I scrub in as CN circs, not five minutes later her lunch relief arrives. I let him circulate (yeah, he is one of the RNs who scrub) and finished covering her lunch, which was fine, I like scrubbing hand cases - mostly because I can still do those well†. And yes, I got lunch - got G to relieve me early & kept it short because I knew we were short. We run lean, and one sick call, one unexpected problem can mean an NFL day. No Fucking Lunch. We whine a bit, but we get over it. Most of us know this job is a piece of piss compared to what we've had to do in trauma hospital ORs.
Remembered one day when I had a full 12 hour day and a call shift to follow. Got lunch at 1100, ran through a lot of cases, find out we are having an impromptu Transplant Festival. I know I'm going to be doing the liver, that's what I'm there for, and start asking for a little time to get food in my face. Had to buttonhole the charge, since I'd gone nearly eight hours without a break, and if I had to go another four, I'd be a puddle. And after everyone went home at seven, there would be no one later who could get me out for food. She very reluctantly relieved me, I found what I could at the crappy cafeteria, back in the room 20 minutes later, ran the transplant until my relief arrived late - about midnight. No, I wouldn't know about 14 hour shifts - but 17 - yeah got that down. Busy, demanding hours, not a cake day.
Moment of insight this week, about how my mother so often cautioned me not to pester people, don't be a pest. Especially my round of elderly neighbors that I visited, who didn't want to let me go, held on to my hand when the time - as given by my mother, was enough. Her words, her judgement, have been pestering me, and I start to tell this motherdemon, Stop pestering me, don't be such a pest. Slowly, she shrinks, and the quiet is precious.
*There is a good kind of flirting, funny, subtle, benign. Can be done with anyone, of any age, any gender‡. When it's loud, unreciprocated or unappreciated, aggressive, that's the bad kind.
†My eyesight is not what it was, and I'm out of practice. I can safely scrub just about anything, but it isn't pretty, fast, nor efficient. As a general rule, I can competently do hands and feet, these days. Which is a bit sad, because I used to be a damn good scrub, but such is life.
‡Last week P had terrible cold sores, she told everyone not to kiss her. I came down with cold sores on my lip this week, and admonished her "I told you not to kiss me!" This got laughs.
PS-
More will sometimes be demanded of you than is reasonable. Bear it meekly, and exhaust your time and strength in performing your duties, rather than vindicating your rights.
~ Horace Mann
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Progressive
Over this past year, in no particular order. Or in clockwise spiral order, we have done.
Dug four deep holes in the clay under the lawn, with planting, adding large rocks, clover plantings, and cayenne harvested. Huge hedge hacked back and cleaned up, so that trash bins can go beside the house. Ivy abated and killed by the house, north sidewalk cleared. Back porched opened, with mat. Debris largely cleared and swept. Garden dug, planted, harvested, extreme back dug and prepped for next year. Trees on north and west side trimmed, mulched with resulting chips applied to garden and front yard, as well as autumnal leaves. Garage given curtains, swept. Hose and garden tools obtained, compost heap formed, and producing soil. Pavers from neighbor provisionally placed. Windows cleaned, kitchen windows calked. Porch swept, front bushes trimmed, new chairs, bamboo screen up, new mailbox, front door weather stripped. Pillars spray painted. Many paving blocks salvaged and moved.
Cellular blinds, front, back and sides. More window cleaning, opened painted shut windows. Screens on several. Painted back room. Diplomas and postcards up, ikea carp down, two ceiling fans replaced with reasonable lights, mudroom light replaced. Cleaned fireplace, got chimney stabilized and flue installed, and I blocked it all up, with further cleaning of various metal implements. Fixed electrical outlet that was put in backwards. Fixed spewing shower head. Calked shower. Polished bathroom mirror.
Curtains up, north side dining room. New fridge, new back door. Basement stairwell block of insulation foam, sealed with tape. Curtains on doorways with heaters, for warm areas. Plumbing in basement, with shut off valves, hook-ups, new washer/dryer, drain, (done by plumber - except for building frame wall.) Foam tiles on floor.
This is not to mention lamps, furniture, sorting stuff, getting ladders, cleaning, trips to home despot, new phone number, re-assessing the house for (lower) taxes, mouse abatement, recycle bin, chimes up, ikea crap out on pick-up day - picked up before the city came by.
Plans for next year? El Jaleo poster framed over mantle by yuletide. More plumbing improvement after tax refund - as available. Paint bedroom, strip paint from door or two. Another go at the garden. That's enough, after the this year.
A year ago, we first saw this place. We've made considerable progress. Takes our breath away. Happy anniversary, House the Home. We really do love you, old gal.
D also changed the float on the toilet, and changed the latch on the back room.
Dug four deep holes in the clay under the lawn, with planting, adding large rocks, clover plantings, and cayenne harvested. Huge hedge hacked back and cleaned up, so that trash bins can go beside the house. Ivy abated and killed by the house, north sidewalk cleared. Back porched opened, with mat. Debris largely cleared and swept. Garden dug, planted, harvested, extreme back dug and prepped for next year. Trees on north and west side trimmed, mulched with resulting chips applied to garden and front yard, as well as autumnal leaves. Garage given curtains, swept. Hose and garden tools obtained, compost heap formed, and producing soil. Pavers from neighbor provisionally placed. Windows cleaned, kitchen windows calked. Porch swept, front bushes trimmed, new chairs, bamboo screen up, new mailbox, front door weather stripped. Pillars spray painted. Many paving blocks salvaged and moved.
Cellular blinds, front, back and sides. More window cleaning, opened painted shut windows. Screens on several. Painted back room. Diplomas and postcards up, ikea carp down, two ceiling fans replaced with reasonable lights, mudroom light replaced. Cleaned fireplace, got chimney stabilized and flue installed, and I blocked it all up, with further cleaning of various metal implements. Fixed electrical outlet that was put in backwards. Fixed spewing shower head. Calked shower. Polished bathroom mirror.
Curtains up, north side dining room. New fridge, new back door. Basement stairwell block of insulation foam, sealed with tape. Curtains on doorways with heaters, for warm areas. Plumbing in basement, with shut off valves, hook-ups, new washer/dryer, drain, (done by plumber - except for building frame wall.) Foam tiles on floor.
This is not to mention lamps, furniture, sorting stuff, getting ladders, cleaning, trips to home despot, new phone number, re-assessing the house for (lower) taxes, mouse abatement, recycle bin, chimes up, ikea crap out on pick-up day - picked up before the city came by.
Plans for next year? El Jaleo poster framed over mantle by yuletide. More plumbing improvement after tax refund - as available. Paint bedroom, strip paint from door or two. Another go at the garden. That's enough, after the this year.
A year ago, we first saw this place. We've made considerable progress. Takes our breath away. Happy anniversary, House the Home. We really do love you, old gal.
D also changed the float on the toilet, and changed the latch on the back room.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Bath
Isn't he lovely?
We decided to bathe the cat. Partly because people with allergies to cats will be over next week. But mostly because Moby has been flaky and itchy lately.
He took it all pretty well, if not quite happily, then walked around, paw shaking, not sure where to put himself due to wet paws, mewing whenever I picked him up to try and dry him a bit more. Repeatedly put him near the heater on the towel, and he'd patter off, shaking his paws, tail sopping, to be ELSEWHERE.
Eventually, he found the perch with the towel next to the heater by himself, as if to say "Why didn't you tell me there was a warm place to dry off?"
He's still a bit damp.
Mohs
When the schedule for the day is large and complicated, as it was yesterday, especially on a Friday, I play to win. Winning, in this context, for me, means being last done. I make it funny, but I actually mean it. Not terribly seriously, but I treat it all day as a game.
"We're contenders, we could still make it!"
That small, joking attitude all day, transformed all. My hips ached madly all morning, my thumb has an open fissure near the corner of the nail and I'm fighting off a cold sore. And by 1700, with over an hour to go yet, while I was certainly tired, I still had energy, still laughing. Which was good, because I then had to deal with the second half of the double* surgeon case, and the surgeon who most gets up my nose.
It was an interesting day, in some ways. The other two rooms had the slow, indecisive (part of why so slow) doc. They should have been done first, but between his double surgeon case, dithering, and a fairly simple, straightforward case in another room - that he added a procedure to without notice, they ultimately won. I actually felt a little disappointed. I genuinely felt bad for the staff in that room.
I also brought my crossword book in. Well, hip scopes involve long stretches when I have to be available - but have very little to do. And I decided to see how many I could do. Five. When I tried to start a sixth, the clues seemed to be in another language, so I decided that five was a goodly number.
On the drive home, detoured around event traffic near the stadium. Home, D made me eggs, rubbed my feet, generally took care of me. Bed insisted on my being down. D went to brush Moby's teeth.
I hear his footsteps. I hear Moby's pawpads. "Ok, go on up... just. 'no, no, no!' Ok, cat... " More catsteps, human following. "Now, oh... c'mon, you know you don't mind this... ." And finally, after a bit more soft thumping of cat chasing, "there you go, and the other side, thank you."
Moby really doesn't mind, but when he's not drowsy, it means a fun game of follow the cat. Sometimes, he plays to win. Or he simply objects to being held - as soon as he realizes it's just the toothbrush, it's "Oh, just that, well fine, now put me back down, I'm busy, people."
Woke to soft guitar strumming, my favorite.
*Two or more procedures done with a second surgeon. There are complicated sterility issues, since cross contamination with two entirely different surgical sites can cause infection - even though it's the same patient in the same room. And having a second surgeon in the room does not make the complexity double, it squares it.
In my case, we had to also change the patient position, move out, and in, several large pieces of equipment. Thankfully both my scrub and I have done this sort of thing before, and were in full agreement on how to proceed. Didn't have much help for the changeover - which was harder - but probably safer. And the second surgeon teasingly told the first surgeon to prep and drape, first surgeon did exactly that. It was funny, but I completely appreciated it, and made sure second surgeon (also the Director of this facility) knew it.
"We're contenders, we could still make it!"
That small, joking attitude all day, transformed all. My hips ached madly all morning, my thumb has an open fissure near the corner of the nail and I'm fighting off a cold sore. And by 1700, with over an hour to go yet, while I was certainly tired, I still had energy, still laughing. Which was good, because I then had to deal with the second half of the double* surgeon case, and the surgeon who most gets up my nose.
It was an interesting day, in some ways. The other two rooms had the slow, indecisive (part of why so slow) doc. They should have been done first, but between his double surgeon case, dithering, and a fairly simple, straightforward case in another room - that he added a procedure to without notice, they ultimately won. I actually felt a little disappointed. I genuinely felt bad for the staff in that room.
I also brought my crossword book in. Well, hip scopes involve long stretches when I have to be available - but have very little to do. And I decided to see how many I could do. Five. When I tried to start a sixth, the clues seemed to be in another language, so I decided that five was a goodly number.
On the drive home, detoured around event traffic near the stadium. Home, D made me eggs, rubbed my feet, generally took care of me. Bed insisted on my being down. D went to brush Moby's teeth.
I hear his footsteps. I hear Moby's pawpads. "Ok, go on up... just. 'no, no, no!' Ok, cat... " More catsteps, human following. "Now, oh... c'mon, you know you don't mind this... ." And finally, after a bit more soft thumping of cat chasing, "there you go, and the other side, thank you."
Moby really doesn't mind, but when he's not drowsy, it means a fun game of follow the cat. Sometimes, he plays to win. Or he simply objects to being held - as soon as he realizes it's just the toothbrush, it's "Oh, just that, well fine, now put me back down, I'm busy, people."
Woke to soft guitar strumming, my favorite.
*Two or more procedures done with a second surgeon. There are complicated sterility issues, since cross contamination with two entirely different surgical sites can cause infection - even though it's the same patient in the same room. And having a second surgeon in the room does not make the complexity double, it squares it.
In my case, we had to also change the patient position, move out, and in, several large pieces of equipment. Thankfully both my scrub and I have done this sort of thing before, and were in full agreement on how to proceed. Didn't have much help for the changeover - which was harder - but probably safer. And the second surgeon teasingly told the first surgeon to prep and drape, first surgeon did exactly that. It was funny, but I completely appreciated it, and made sure second surgeon (also the Director of this facility) knew it.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Checkout
Know what I love? When I go into the big grocery store, and I get beer, through the self-checkout, and the cashier on duty glances at me and my long grey hair, and clears me through.
I never, ever, object to showing my ID, cooperating with the poor schlub working a poorly paid job, no matter the circumstances. But I relish being called ma'am, and getting waved through, as obviously not new, t'ain't my first rodeo, haven't seen twenty in decades don't miss it, no girl, not to be messed with.
Love it.
For so many years, dying my hair, because I was not ready for it. No more.
I never, ever, object to showing my ID, cooperating with the poor schlub working a poorly paid job, no matter the circumstances. But I relish being called ma'am, and getting waved through, as obviously not new, t'ain't my first rodeo, haven't seen twenty in decades don't miss it, no girl, not to be messed with.
Love it.
For so many years, dying my hair, because I was not ready for it. No more.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Irregular
We now return you to your (ir)regular climate.
Most of the snow, has, as expected, been melting away since Sunday afternoon. Leaving leaves, mud, and grass with clover greening up. Tough little buggers. Milder temperatures, 44˚F (7C) now, not quite freezing overnight.
This time last year, we started looking for a house, attending open houses as much as a form of weekend hobby, not expecting to find a livable house for a year. Even if we found something, we were told short-sales could take six months to work through. Plus, we had a lease that had a long time to run. Little did we know.
It really has worked out well. The old apartment has two huge apartment buildings going up on the same block, no doubt making for a lot of noise and dust. They worked with us over the lease, we paid one month not living there, which was reasonable. Still, we are so glad not to be there, and not to have been there since January.
I really had no idea how profoundly living in a house, this house, would mean to me. An entirely practical decision, thought through, less rent - more space, and a garden. But the effects are emotional and spiritual equilibrium.
Funny old thing, life.
Most of the snow, has, as expected, been melting away since Sunday afternoon. Leaving leaves, mud, and grass with clover greening up. Tough little buggers. Milder temperatures, 44˚F (7C) now, not quite freezing overnight.
This time last year, we started looking for a house, attending open houses as much as a form of weekend hobby, not expecting to find a livable house for a year. Even if we found something, we were told short-sales could take six months to work through. Plus, we had a lease that had a long time to run. Little did we know.
It really has worked out well. The old apartment has two huge apartment buildings going up on the same block, no doubt making for a lot of noise and dust. They worked with us over the lease, we paid one month not living there, which was reasonable. Still, we are so glad not to be there, and not to have been there since January.
I really had no idea how profoundly living in a house, this house, would mean to me. An entirely practical decision, thought through, less rent - more space, and a garden. But the effects are emotional and spiritual equilibrium.
As for the house, I do not have my heart set on it, and I'm not in love. But it's all I have to focus on. I have, with reluctance, vetoed D's preference for a condo, in favor of my need for a garden. I dream of growing cayenne and ginger, roma tomatoes and rhubarb, peas and green beans, long grass for Moby, rosemary and parsley, red peppers and sun flowers. A mulch pile. And space to hang clothes to dry. And D smiles and says he knows.
Funny old thing, life.
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