Snazzy

Hummingbird Trumpets blooming madly.



She’s feeling snazzy today.




Found a neighbor with lots of restoration and handyman experience. He did this in 3 days, scraped, primed and painted. Responded, showed up, did the job well, asked a fair price. We have a handyman!

Gable

Another slow work day. Frustrating, but so it goes. Prepping for painting the gable has begun. Serious work, a serious ladder, and Moby checking out the changes. He seems better today, seemed to see the hoses and the ladder. He even started a gentle sparring match with Eleanor. For the past year, he just walks away whenever she’s tried playing.



Dylan unwell from the antibiotics, but otherwise improving as well.

Very hot and smoky.

Frustration

A day of frustrations. Dylan went for his walk, but returned knowing he’d done too much. His face not much swollen, he’s iced well. I got called off work, but I needed to see Dr. W about my old thumb, since my last brace broke after 6 years hard work. She ordered it for me, but hand therapy was as busy as surgery was quiet. I had to leave, pick up poultry for catsoup, feed Dylan, and return. Thumb insisted.

It’s been catching this week as well as aching and twinging. Took too long, And just as the brace was being fitted, a young man beside me passed out. Which was frustrating in no small part because I saw it coming and his therapist didn’t take it seriously enough early enough. But I don’t want to interfere when I’m the patient, not the practitioner. When I saw him slump, I urged my therapist to leave me in favor of him. The brace, still malleable, felt perfect. But when she got back to me, her tech took it over. And screwed it up. So another got started, and I could tell the tech was screwing it up again. By then I was getting tired and hungry and could not find the words to describe what was wrong.

I gave up, came home, fretted over the bad geometry. Fed Dylan some just made chicken salad, since he’s not up to chewing yet, but he’s enjoying my concoctions. And remembered the kettle. Why wait? I know what I need.

Several steps later, I’ve got brace in good, effective angles. Fix it my damnself. I have a damndegree. My damnthumb. I’m bright.




If they hadn’t eventually taken the young man to the floor and gotten his head down, I was prepared to take over, but slowly, they did. Important to get head down feet up, or people can have seizures and brain damage, if left too long.

I know about young folks passing out. I know the early signs. Been there, done that, seen the concussions.

Dylan needs to recover from the abscess under his recalcitrant cap. At least he has his memory back.

The air is terrible today.

Blurry

Dylan had dental surgery today. He had oral sedation, instead of nitrous, which is seriously screwing with his memory. Not unlike a stroke patient. It was assumed I’d stay with him during the procedure, which was fine, I rubbed his feet. Probably for the best, since he would otherwise have little idea of what happened. Since it was worse than anticipated, I’d have been outside worrying about how long it was going. Done that enough times already, every surgery has been worse than expected.

They helped me get him to the car. A little hairy getting him into the house, but all is well, if a bit muzzy.

He’s dozed to The IT Crowd all afternoon. Slowly coming around. The cats nearby.


UPDATE:He’s doing much better this morning, short term memory returned. Minimal pain, done bleedin’, still on soft foods this week or more.

Pedestrians

Pedestrian

There are friends that are just binary. Meet them once, they are friends, and that’s it. Mary Anne is that for me. We’ve spent maybe 20 hours together total, over 4 times, but it’s like we’ve been friends our whole lives, and each meeting, we just pick up the conversation from the last time.

We talked and sat on the porch, while Dylan and Matt (also friends, from work, and a single class in HS)talked gear.

It’s Pioneer Day, there was a parade we ignored. And horses on sidewalks, fair enough,the horses were technically pedestrians.

Bloom

I had a flower making kit as a kid. Stems and various plastic petals that could be rearranged. I tended to go all baroque, putting all the colors on. But I also asked if there were any green flowers. Didn’t get a satisfactory answer. Some white flowers with a greenish tint was not my question.

Of course, there are all kinds of flowers, but not the kinds humans register as decorative. Flowers are for each plant’s pollinators Unless that means humans, which sometimes it does, the distinction is meaningless. There are UV flowers, flowers scented for a particular bugge, wind flowers, every variation to fill every possibility. It’s all about sex.

A red leaf lettuce bolted, and I let it be. A few times, I’ve noticed the flowers, tiny, and never open long. Finally, caught the wee blooms.



I can appreciate these flowers, knowing they are not meant for me. I’m comfortable in my irrelevance to them.



Watched Hanna Gadsby’s Nanette last night. Searing, funny, haunting, a painful, skillful performance.

Verb

Moby knows. He must know. We love him. He accepts comfort from us, when there are loud noises or he’s lost. We get him warm and safe and fed. Surely, he knows he is most loved.

Because we both believe that love is a verb, and only a verb. Love that is not felt by the recipient is not love given. Love is a shared action between beings. Love is active and kind and needs to be sure it’s working.

Love reaches out and checks and gives some more.

Love.


Not a feeling, but an action.



We make sure Moby knows where food is. We put down rugs for him to piss on, because sometimes finding the litter box is just too hard. And we set up steps so he can sit on the sideboard and get to his kettle of water, and get down without excessive distress. And we tap his dish so he can find his food. And we put his meds in the food, so he isn’t distressed by having pills shoved down his throat. And we keep Eleanor entertained when she wants to play, because it bothers him, but she needs to play, too.

Love for all in this house.

I wash the rugs. Dylan sifts the litter. We get the right food in the right cat. Because love takes effort and attention, and isn’t really work at all, when there is love. Because this is our porpoise in life.

Purpose.

Or Porpoise.

Take your pick.

Perdido

Took care of a patient one day younger than me, he has AIDS. I shook his hand and took extra care of him. I was going through nursing school as the AIDS crisis was going on, my University playing a key role in the research. As many of my fellow medical folks failed the patients in their care. Judgemental family keeping patients from partners. Our clinical instructors taught us universal precautions, but kept us up on the latest, that HIV was not passed on through casual contact.

Today, I think those horrible stories are why we have marriage equality and the LGBT civil rights we do. We looked at those in charge and said, “Nope.”

Sometimes the boil must be fulminating to be lanced. When society looks at the extrapolation and heaves a heavy “NOPE” at the injustice. Such are the forces behind revolutions. The universe changes.

We were taught that sometimes the best moment to reach a patient on a self destructive slide was when they are weeping in the ER. No guarantees, but if they will ever listen, that’s a good opportunity. I still don’t know if the young woman on her 2nd abortion in 6 months changed when I suggested that she might want to look at the choices she was making, while solidly supporting her decision to end the pregnancy.

Maybe our culture has these moments, too. When we look at where we are going, and it’s clearly the road to perdition, and we step back... and say...

Nope.



This is the 5th patient in the past month with my birthday, the second within a day of my actual birth day. I’m a little creeped out by this.

Structure

So, I picked up a Keva Structures set at an estate sale. Having way too much fun with it. This is one of the less risky stacks, but it’s pleasing. I loved blocks the best, as a kid. All I got were my brothers’ hand me downs, sparse and broken, I still loved them. Legos were too expensive. No wonder I build cairns of the stones found here.

I sort of planned these as a gift to our friends with kids. Eh. They’ll get it in the will, and can play with them here.

200 well cut planks, balanced nicely with a good texture. And a delightful sound when they fall. I’ve been pushing the balance. Experimenting.

Bee

Peeping sunflowers
hungry bee*. Spitting rain
Quiet afternoon.

I stayed in bed reading, Eleanor sitting on me, until 0730. Dylan came in, I said “I’m staying in bed all day.”

He said, “Ok. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

I laughed. Scooted Eleanor off, got up. I can’t stay in bed if I don’t have a high fever or bad migraine. I love that he was willing to indulge me.


*Apparently not a bee.

Stars

It rained a bit last evening, I got up and stood on the porch to watch. There were stars visible to the southeast, rain in the northwest. I’ve seen rain in sun many times. I don’t think I’ve ever seen stars in rain before.

I’m sure it happens as often, it must. I’ve never thought of it before.

It never rains much when it only glances past. These are not all day rains. Or all night. Welcome, though.

Muntins

We come together...and miracles.



We can’t save everyone, but we save those we can.

Migraineish season, another wobbly Monday, which ran very short. Susan needed to call people off today, offered it to me so I don’t have to have a sick day counting against. I’m fine, hesitant to venture out, disinclined to eat, still getting chores done. More painting of muntins. Toilet flapper gave up, so we got a new one of different design, got it on and working yesterday.Emptied the water salvaged from the AC, cleaned, dishes away. Dealing with elm seed bugs, not dangerous, but they get everywhere.



Other bergamot blooming. Cats in their favorite spots.

Vet came yesterday, Moby maintaining. Labs happening. Vet says he’s completely blind now, but in good body condition. Seems so thin to me. He still gets up on the sideboard to drink from the kettle spout. Still eating well, likes going outside, peeing regularly, if in random places, turds coming out. Proof of life, all that. Stretches across Dylan’s lap for hours.

Windows

I realized I could do this window without using a ladder, from the inside. Making good progress. I’ll scrape the windows once I’m done.

Side

Profile.

Damsel

Damsel fly, Western honey bee.


100F, 36 dewpoint.

Jerryrig

The ipad doesn’t work smoothly with blooger, links and photos require workarounds. That’s fine, eventually everything I do will need to change. My back and now shoulder require adaptations, fudges. The garden is a process, exercises in figuring out what will work, seeing life as it is, not as I want it to be.

Science, at heart. Only magic and religion try to make the universe conform to little human ideals. Life is wild and far too complicated for philosophy. It’s all making it up as we go along.

I sit out by the bergamot, bee balm, to watch the bees. I chose it, planted it, but then it grows and attracts bees who have their own lives and reasons.

There is no plan, it’s all exploration and wonder, misery and failure, redemption and salvage.

Found Do It For Yourself with Mary Bellows, a strange little Canadian DIY show from 1982-3, that I loved. Made Dylan watch an episode, and he could totally see my attraction. I think she is the seed of my eventual love of gardening and fixing things. She’s delightfully inept, and yet capable. I want to send her a fan letter, telling her what she meant, means, to me. The confidence to make a botch and still call it good enough.

Perfection is both impossible and undesirable.

So much fun watching bumblebees on the bee balm.

Bergamot

Got Eleanor’s claws trimmed, which was not a happy. But then she could knead on me, put her paws on my face and get a good long headrub, which is a very happy. So. happy. cat.



Bergamot going nuts.



Another panorama.


HP & I were sad yesterday, because the holiday is on Wednesday, our regular day off. But then, because there are only 4 cases today, we were both offered a call off. We said YES, then didn’t mind when two cases got shifted into our room and we went from being the first room done to being the last out. She’s so easy going anyway, a pleasure to work with.

Rosa is coming this morning to paint more. So, I’m glad to be here.

Didgeridoo

Twenty six years ago, Dylan moved in with me. We took the commuter train up to the Ogden farmer’s market to celebrate. There, because it’s easier to go an hour there than walk further through worse areas to attend the local one. Read and chatted the whole way.

At the market, a woman with a guitar doing a very good version of Riptide, dude rocking out on a didgeridoo*, lots of dogs, the aroma of bbq.

We decided it was Chekhov’s bbq, once smelled, by act III it must be eaten. And, wow. Yum. Brought some home.

We also like trains.

Dealt with the wheat harvest today, straw strewn. Not threshed exactly, but all the heads in a bucket for the next day.

Moby leaving us nearly half the couch.





*video to come