Is This All There Is?

New Year - New Blog

2012-01-02T00:01:00.002-05:00

According to my poll, the consensus was to keep blogging.

So I will.

But I started a new blog, since I felt like this one was about my mother mostly.

Here's the link to the new one: http://sockmonkeychronicles.blogspot.com/

Be sure to add your email address if you want to have posts magically delivered into your email box.

And I love followers - I'll be honest. So sign up to follow me. Honestly I can't tell you how to do it. Just click around until it works.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T02:20:00.000-05:00

Now I don't normally do this resolution thing, but I just read an article called "Five Lessons Learned From Living in Paris" and all five things appealed to me.

1. Live a passionate life
Scott noticed that Parisians often turned mundane aspects of everyday life into something special.

2. Cultivate an air of mystery
Scott thinks the French get a bad rap for coming across as cold and aloof when they're simply very picky about who they open up to and how much they reveal about themselves.

3. Look presentable always
She had a very quick (routine): 'Le no makeup look' and a very easy hairstyle to follow. Her 10-item wardrobe allowed her to pick something really easily. She wouldn't agonize over what clothes to wear every day like so many of us do."

4. Don't forget the simple pleasures (and do not deprive yourself)

"I had dessert at least twice a day. I had it every day after dinner, and for tea every afternoon, I would get a crepe or something in the city. And I enjoyed my food."

5. Make life a formal affair

"They used their best china and their best crystal on a regular basis. ... They used the nicest things that they had on a daily basis and it elevated every experience that we had."

10 item wardrobe! I love that. I'm sure every piece is well made, fit perfectly, flatter her, and all 10 pieces go with everything else.

In 2012 I'm going to ~~try to~~ be more French.

But the sock monkey hat stays. Just sayin'.

Aurelia

2011-12-31T22:03:00.000-05:00

Aurelia means golden. She was named after her father's mother. And while she was not a huge fan of the name, she came to terms with it later in life. I always thought it was pretty - like her.

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On this last day of 2011, for my 400th blog entry, a tribute of memories to my Mom.

Sleeping with me when I had pneumonia for the first time when I was two.
All the clothes she sewed for me (that I ruined!). Her being happy that my sister wasn't "a tomboy", so she could have one girl who liked being dressed up. (It's still that way - my sister wore a dress to the funeral. I wore trouser jeans.)
Our Barbies being the envy of the neighborhood because of the clothes she sewed for them. Her sewing away in the windowless, concrete, steel doored "hurricane room" in Guam. (My dad ripened the bananas in that room.)

Her sense of humor.

Her sense of adventure - a Florida girl who lived in Alaska - three times. And whose favorite place in the world was Hawaii.

Giving us pie tins to bang when we lived in Kodiak to scare the bears away. You kids take these with you. (we never took them)

Making snow ice cream. You kids make sure that's not yellow snow.

The cookie book that had stars and notes next each of our favorites.

Every Christmas the tree would have a color theme - the blue tree, the gold tree...etc.

Her craftyness - ceramics; these giant grapes she made out of some poisonous smelling epoxy. The grapes were then wired to a driftwood "vine". You kids get out of the garage while I'm doing this.

Beaded Christmas ornaments. Crocheted afghans and baby clothes.

These big plaques of peacocks and Hindu gods that her and Dad made - a kind of paint by number kit but with beads and sequins. You kids leave that all that stuff alone.

Her "Indian" nose (a bump she claimed was from a Native American ancestor) - that some plastic surgeon offered to "fix" for her. She was greatly offended.

Being able to tell when a cantaloupe was ripe even though she didn't eat them, yet could not pick out a good apple to save her soul. (she didn't eat those either) You kids eat those apples!

Having a knack for picking the hottest day of the year to do her canning.

Her love of hosting a good party complete with pickle forks and shrimp dip. You kids get out of that dip!

We kids miss you. Thanks for being the best mom ever.

Age nine. I love this "Dorothy" picture

With her beloved father

Twins! I'm sure she made those matching shirts. 1954

Dad with his adored 1955 Thunderbird - July 1955

Mom in St. Pete - 1955

Pins and Needles

2011-12-30T21:36:00.001-05:00

Paper thin conviction
Turning another page
Plotting how to build myself to be
Everything that i am not at all.

Sometimes i get tired of pins and needles
Facades are a fire on the skin.
And i'm growing fond of broken people
As i see that i am one of them.

I'm one of them.
I'm one of them.

Oh why must i work so hard
Just so i can feel like the noble ones?
Obligations to my heart are gone
Superficial lines explain it all.

Sometimes i get tired of pins and needles
Facades are a fire on the skin.
Oh i'm growing fond of broken people
As i see that i am one of them.

Sometimes i get tired of pins and needles
Facades are a fire on the skin.
Oh and i'm growing fond of broken people
As i see that i am one of them.

I'm one of them.
I'm one of them.
I'm one of them.
I'm one of them. Oh.

Achy Breaky Heart

2011-12-29T23:19:00.002-05:00

Well, its official. I'm sad. (three weeks yesterday)

A different type of sad than when my dad died, maybe because that was unexpected. There he was, happy to be coming home next week and less than twelve hours later - dead.

This is a more tired, less crying, kind of sad. I don't want to do anything, like go to work. The thought of January, February, March, April all spread out in front of me with no time off is depressing. The two weeks I had off was spent with her dying and then all the stuff I needed to do.
No time to just rest.
To wallow.

Duke Hospice called me Tuesday to remind me (very gently) of their bereavement program.
I think I'll look into it. I don't want to get down the road and implode.

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In other news:
I have lost 32 pounds since August. That's something I guess.
And I have a sock monkey hat.
But you knew that.

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An Almighty Thud
We Were Promised Jetpacks

I lost my crown
When it hit the ground
With an almighty thud
I went to pick it up
And reveal my weaknesses to the crowd

And I lost my home
When I lost my throne
To a successor
With far more expansive plans
Than I ever did
I abdicated
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/w/we_were_promised_jetpacks/an_almighty_thud.html ]
You're the last thing I want
I'd love to stay here
You're the last thing I want
I'd love to live here

I sat in my castle
And I waited on news
From one final battle
That we couldn't afford to lose
And I whispered suddenly
My greatest fears to anyone who would hear me

You're the last thing I want
I'd love to stay here
You're the last thing I want
I'm going to stay here

Dreams

2011-12-25T10:43:00.000-05:00

The night before my mother died I dreamed of my next door neighbor (her father has a brain tumor).

[Real life]: I told my other neighbor M. that B's dad had the tumor. I assumed [bad idea every time] that M. knew since her son was taking care of B's dog. Of course M. had no idea. I thought about confessing to B. that I had told M.
But didn't. Until the dream.
And in the dream I confessed and we both cried in my car in my driveway. Later that morning I wondered if her dad had died too.
But she has not been home much for me to ask.

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Yesterday morning I dreamed I took Lillie (my black cat) to an outdoor coffee shop. I held her in my arms, (this would NEVER happen in real life), and oddly enough, she was quiet (again - total dreamland). There were two dogs who were very interested in her, so I was trying to fend off the dogs and order coffee. When the coffee came, it was in a very tall, about three feet high, vase type contraption. The coffee was more like chocolate pudding and there was seafood in it. They assured me I would LOVE it.
WTH.

Happy...Whatever

2011-12-23T18:12:00.002-05:00

Oh dear. I had a post. Or at least post ideas. Until I clicked "New Post" - or what is now the pencil icon in Blogger. Hmmm...you will just have to muddle along with me I guess.

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Happy Pagan Holidays, Solstice, Hanukkah, Christ-mass, etc., etc., etc.

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Look what E. gave me! (sock monkey hat in case you can't see from the angle) I LOVE it. Our server at P.F. Changs (Jewish Christmas Eve) last night thought it was a bear, but it was dark in there.
He got a $10 tip for saying my dirty martini would be so dirty I'd need a cigarette afterwards. That and it is the pagan holidays.

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I am STILL freakin' sick at three and 1/2 weeks.

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Received the death certificates yesterday - zero "sanitized" copies. Not sure what I can do without those.
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Had a nice Atkinsy breakfast of bacon and eggs. BACON!

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Saw The Descendents last night (see Jewish Christmas Eve above). Excellent George Clooney gazing, but movie less funny than expected; seriously - could they not have given that woman some chapstick?!

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The Countdown

2011-12-20T18:09:00.000-05:00

I don't know about you, but for several weeks after the "spring forward" daylight savings time change, I'll say to myself, [if it's nine o'clock], "It's really only eight o'clock." Eventually, the change becomes real.

That's kind of what's happening now.
It's been one week today since Mom was buried, two weeks tomorrow since she died, three weeks tomorrow since I got sick...

I am deep in executrix mode, which sucks for a closer such as myself.
Everything hinges on something else - mostly death certificates - which I still don't have (two weeks tomorrow...).
And I discovered she did not claim her C.G. pension the tax year prior to her moving up here, so I need to file an amended return. I can't close accounts and divide up the "estate" until all this is taken care of.
But first wait for the 1099-R form, then file, then...more waiting.

Waiting. The bane and curse of the closer...

Here's a couple of things I've learned the last few days:
- When someone tells you they need a "sanitized" version of the death certificate - that means one without the cause of death.
- Make sure you get copies with the cause of death and some "sanitized" ones. Because of HIPPA laws, some places can't file them if the cause of death is on them.
- Do NOT tell the cable company the reason you are canceling the service - they want a death certificate. Really cable company?! I am paying YOU money, not the other way around, I don't need to prove anything to you. Unbelievable.
If you pitch a big enough fit, they will transfer your crabby indignant self to someone who will cancel it - no questions asked.

I'm not sad (yet), more...incomplete. As if something was missing or I'm forgetting to do something.

The Beekeeper

2011-12-18T10:43:00.000-05:00

I've told you I find beekeeping fascinating and scary at the same time. This guy takes the "natural" approach to the next level.

Here's a link to the Bedlam Farm blog about a book on beekeepers: Backyard Beekeepers of the Bay Area.

And here's a song about beekeeping.

The Beekeeper
By Dessa

Here comes the beekeeper
With her pitcher full of smoke
She'll put us all to sleep I hope
It’s dream and honesty
Sweet Prometheus come home,
They took away our fire
And all that scarcity promotes
It’s desperate men and times
What fine design, what hands, what minds
The envy and eden, the tools and our reasons
Clear in the animal Animal's eyes
We stand up right, build fires at night
Made on 6th day to rest on the 7th
For now we just try to survive

The surgeon and the farmer meet
Each greets the other with a bow
They're kindred instruments you know

The scalpel and the plow
And in the shadow of the mountain
We work when work abounds
And we wear out all our prayers
When the work runs out

What fine design, my hands my mind
The envy and eden, the tools and our reasons
Clear in the animal Animal's eyes
We stand up right, build fires at night
Made on 6th day to rest on the 7th
For now we just try to survive.

Eight More

2011-12-17T22:20:00.001-05:00

posts and I'll be at four hundred. Oscar just jumped up to help and now there's a big gray cat butt in my face.
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I am still sick; as of Wednesday it will be three weeks. I'm at the place where it seems like I will never feel well again. My glands are swollen and I'm hacking up a lung or two or five.
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My sister told me about a chocolate bar that has chipotle, salt, and Pop Rocks in it (they call it popping candy). The chocolatier is Chuao, the bar is called Firecracker. Southern Season carries it, of course. It's fun.
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I don't want to use up all my random crap on this post, have to save some for the other seven.
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Thank You

2011-12-17T19:23:00.001-05:00

Now that everyone is back home and things have settled a bit, I wanted to say THANK YOU to:

the Gals, who sat with, laughed with, prayed for, virtual hugged, packed up, fed, coffeed, well-wished, ballooned, gift certificated, and hand held me.

my family, who traveled days to get here/there and, as exciting a story it might have been to tell later, didn't have a Jerry Springer moment (the potential was there people). And who, even in their own sorrow, fed and comforted us.

the friends who kept our home fires burning, our pets fed, our children safe. Who picked up mattresses and kept an eye on the landscapers. Who hugged our necks and just plain loved on us real hard.

all those far away [on Facebook and beyond] who sat with, laughed with, prayed for, hugged, well-wished, and hand held, albeit virtually. Those were just as important and beloved as those received in person.

YOU ALL ARE THE VERY BEST ONES.

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Here's a pretty little song that has nothing to do with the post.

Sweet Home...

2011-12-16T18:05:00.000-05:00

And...
you're welcome for the ear worm. A song about Alabama by a band from Florida (not just Florida, but J'ville).

Anyway, Mom is truly home now, buried next to my father in the family cemetery.

There were no Jerry Springer moments (sorry to disappoint), I got my hug quota for the year, and the Lenox birds have been passed off to my aunt.

We went out after the viewing to eat, then to my brother's hotel for story telling. And laughing. And maybe a wee bit of drinking.

I got asked if I was my sister's mother. Hilarity ensued I assure you. And the [older] man who asked the question is still trying to take it back.

Speaking of my sister, she left today. I'm praying for tail winds, smooth connections, and great weather all the way back to Juneau.

What Now?

2011-12-10T18:24:00.001-05:00

I don't know.
Should I keep this blog and change the tagline or start a new one? Maybe I don't have anything else to say. Well, that's probably not true quite yet (or maybe ever).

Let me tell you something - I have the best friends in the world. They've been all rally-round-the-flag-boys.
CP made sure I had retail therapy, as well as a Cheesecake Factory burger and salad on Wednesday. (And it was her birthday too)
Thursday I called people - the VA and the C.G. and Social Security. Took care of my little car Blanche and had her degreased and vacuumed after she visited her BF's over at Auto Logic. A vehicular version of a mani-pedi.

I spent way too much money on this while I was waiting for them to finish her check-up:

People checked in via text and phone calls, sent gift certificates for facials and Starbucks.

Friday, CP (again) helped, (and by helped I mean she did most all of it), me pack up Mom's room one more time. I have touched that stuff five times since 2008.

We took a break for supper and had this:

Oh my gawd was that good. And I ate every last bite of it.

Today I walked with the Gals, ran errands, got a book on CD's from the library, met TROSA at CB to pick up everything from her room. The TV, coffee table, dresser (broken), bed frame, clothes, etc.
The sooner it's cleaned out the more money is returned. I have a feeling that will be helpful in paying for her transport back down to Florida.

It's weird that she's gone. Even though I hoped for it these last few months (in the nicest possible way. You know what I mean.).

Well, up early tomorrow for the drive down to Florida. I haven't even taken down the suitcase yet and Oscar knows something's going on. He will not leave me alone.

Be thinking on what I should do about this here blog, okay?

It Is Done

2011-12-07T21:00:00.001-05:00

Today, December 7, 2011 at about 10:05 AM, Mom crossed over.
She'd been trying to get over, (and I'd been encouraging her along, believe me), since Saturday.

Sunday she said "Omar" very clearly, and "Elka", a little less clearly.
I don't know anyone named Omar or Elka, except for Omar on The Wire. (And yes, he is my boyfriend.)

I said if they're here to take you, you just go ahead on Mom.

She didn't listen.

I said a lot of things on Sunday. I got mad at her. Told her she was being a stubborn Florida mule.
Then switched tactics and told her we all loved her and she was free to go. Told her she did a good job and we would be okay. Go be with Dad and Mookie and Whiskey...[inserted all the dead people and pets I could conjur up].
I went through a box of Kleenex. I cried and railed at God and told him I was going to be pissed at Him if she was in pain. (He knows me, it's okay).
I told her that she was pissing Jesus off by keeping him waiting. Someone pointed out that since she wasn't a money changer in the temple, I was probably lying on that last one.

I read Alice in Wonderland to her. We looked at pictures. I timed the breathing stoppages and the moaning intervals. I watched The Last Time I Saw Paris.

I reminisced about things. All the crappy artwork on the mantle. Keeping my Girl Scout pin and the award I won for writing in 8th grade in her jewelry box. Her goofy cookie making habits (the recipe says it makes five dozen, dammit I'm going to get at least that), having a laughing spell in the frozen food aisle at Big and Crusty Bagels in Publix. (Who would give that name to a food item?!)

She stopped talking on Monday. They increased her morphine to a bigger dose, every hour if needed.
When she slept, I could go home. That was our drill for four days.

Steffi was with me (thanks for that), this morning when it happened.

She did it on her own terms. Like she did everything else.

I love you Mom.

I Won't Lie

2011-11-29T20:09:00.001-05:00

Yesterday evening was tough. All day I've been antsy, (along with itchy and prickly), just thinking about it.

I did go over Sunday. She had just "gone down for a nap" - it truly is aging in reverse. I sat with her for a bit and watched Gandhi while she slept. Then I took the clothes that weren't hers that someone had put BACK IN HER ROOM in the dresser that STILL ISN'T FIXED and dumped them in my backseat. Because it pissed me off. And carrying those clothes around with me in the car is going to fix that.
Heh.

Did I tell you about the dresser? I don't remember. You probably don't either. So here goes - possibly again.
When I went to get her some clothes for her return from the hospital in October, three of the four drawers had the fronts off. Two were off completely and propped up nicely on the side of the dresser. One is hanging lopsided. Those drawers opened really easy, so how in the world did the fronts got ripped off?! It's not a family heirloom, it's from Target, but still, WTH.
Housekeeping was supposed to take a look at it - last month. I can get over there with some Gorilla Glue, but dang it, I DON'T WANT TO.

So, yesterday.

I went over for supper. We're at a new table in the other dining room now. I don't like it. It's the table where people get fed. It's a sad table. No one talks.
No nonsensical conversations, no humming, no Myrtle saying, "Would it kill them to give us some dessert?!"

In between trying to interest Mom in something, I fed "Emily", the lady next to her; she doesn't speak, has beautiful porcelain skin. Sometimes she takes a spoon and TAP tap tap taptaptaptaps on the table. Or claps her hands.
What if she is one of those people who wants to eat all their beans, then all their stuffing? Sorry, no choice now. She opens her mouth for every bite.

Mom had one bite of chicken, several bites of chocolate ice cream, several of fruit cocktail. She nodded off between bites.
Her language is pretty much gone.
She makes noises. Every now and then an recognizable word breaks through. A yes or no. The occasional hey.
She's shrinking, turning in on herself, a little doodlebug.

Jesus. I thought it sucked before, but this, this...dissolving, like sugar in cold tea, is slow and fucked up.

What An Assessment Summary Report Looks Like

2011-11-27T10:17:00.001-05:00

First - I haven't been to see Mom since Thanksgiving.

Here's a breakdown of the new charges, which are in addition to her monthly "rent" of $4500:

Medications - $427
- Order and coordinate medications between family, health care providers and pharmacy
- Provide attention while patient self-administers medications
- Provide physical assistance while taking medications
- Assist with medication storage

Chronic Condition Management - $598
- Resident has been diagnosed with diabetes
- Specific care and/or monitoring because of the chronic condition noted above
- Resident has insulin-dependent diabetes
- Supervise or perform blood sugar monitoring three or more times per week
- Administer insulin injections

Respiratory Equipment - $470
- Help with proper storage, supply and signage with the use of oxygen or respiratory equipment
- Staff attention or physical assistance with the use of oxygen or respiratory equipment

Dress and Groom - $342
- Help with the set-up, selection, or laying out of clothes or grooming toiletries
- Staff attention or assistance with dressing tasks
- Staff attention or assistance with grooming tasks

Bathroom Assist - $299
- Help because resident is unable to use the bathroom on their own

Total - $2136.00

In their defense, they are not charging for the nebulizer treatments, or helping her eat and they didn't charge for many things (bathroom assistance) for many months.

She is in the hole $2480 a month.

Let's Take A Walk

2011-11-25T18:53:00.001-05:00

At Booker Creek.

Park in the Home Team's parking lot, don't have to cross Franklin Street.

Headphones - check. Purse in trunk - check. Keys in hand - check.

First, start the music player...now....figure out the Cardio Trainer app...stop the apps music player because I already started the "real" one...okay...re-start the workout...now re-start the music playlist...put phone in pocket...pause the workout inadvertently...take phone out of pocket...restart the workout...lock phone...NOW put in pocket...
And we're off.

It's about noon and I'm regretting my wardrobe choice (a heavy long sleeved tee-shirt) because it's hot! All the leaves have fallen off the trees so the path, deliciously shaded in summer, is now exposed.

Passed a small gaggle of coltish teenagers with mothers? aunts? followed by a mother and her young (5-6) year old daughter. That's right, left them in the dust.

[Calories burned: twenty nine. Or so says the male vaguely British Cardio Trainer app voice]

You know what I've noticed? Runners rarely nod to walkers. Other runners - yes. Walkers mostly nod or acknowledge other walkers. Like RV campers and tent campers - two groups who think the other group is stupid. As a tent camper, I found RVer's to be rude and inconsiderate neighbors for the most part.

Know what else? If you see someone more than once, the greetings decline. About the third or fourth pass, you just politely look at the ground. Or up at the trees. Or pretend your phone/MP3 player is acting up.

Older men are all or nothing: a full good afternoon or the slight head bob.

[Calories burned: eighty six]

I thought about light poles and telephone poles and wondered why we don't put them underground. They make it hard to take pictures of trees holding their white hallelujah hands up to the Carolina blue sky.

Much cropping involved

Obviously good photo opps is not the only reason underground lines seem like a good idea. There are hurricane and ice storm reasons.

Thinking about the singer of the Video Games video and I wonder - What it would be like to go through life looking like that? I have never had that kind of beauty or power - that I was aware of anyway.
Reminded me of The April Witch by Ray Bradbury. The premise of the story, as I vaguely recall, was this: a witch possesses a girl to experience love.
What it would be like to go through life looking like that? I can't even imagine.

[Calories burned: one hundred twenty five]

I thought about this blog and what I would write about. Thought about the man with a Jack Russell and a poodle because it seemed like an odd dog combo.

Another Jack Russell was walking off leash and he came over to greet me. He was all white except for the left side of his head, which was black. They are cute dogs. Too smart (and active) for me though.

I thought about how the sidewalk was slippery with the crumbled brown carcasses of dead leaves, pine needles, and sweet gum balls.

Erv Evans, NC State University

I thought about my mother dying and all the things I'll need to do: call the VA, the Coast Guard, Social Security, TROSA, my siblings, my mother's friends (not necessarily in that order of course). I thought about death certificates and where do I get them. How many will I need? Ten? Fifteen? What about her taxes? What am I not thinking of? What don't I know that I don't know?

I thought about squirrels and birds and pondered on why the air smelled vaguely of the sea.

Then I had walked two miles.

[Calories burned: Two hundred and sixty six - the equivalent of four oranges]

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-24T19:39:00.001-05:00

Mom is the same - eating very little, sleeps a lot, rarely laughs anymore. I used to get her to laugh all the time. One of the few understandable things she said to me today was, "That's so weird."
I don't know what was weird, but that was clear as a bell.

A. told me Mom often doesn't sleep in her bed. She's agitated ("end of life agitation"), can't seem to get comfortable, wants to be around people, so they bring her out to the living room with her oxygen and settle her in a recliner for the night.

I took over some new clothes - cute little zip up jacket in pink, fuchsia tee-shirt and nice black sweatpants. While she slept off her two bites of turkey at the dining table, I took the opportunity to go through her closet. Got rid of clothes that weren't hers (there were quite a few), weeded out the too small stuff, hung up pants on pant hangers (!), and arranged shirts by color. (Shut up.)

A woman visiting her father brought her Landseer Newfoundland named Oreo. It was hilarious watching Avery and Oreo play - Oreo's head was bigger than the entire puppy! Someone said Avery had cattle dog in her and sure enough, she was nipping at Oreo's heels trying to herd him. That skill might come in handy, herding seniors to the dining room for instance.
Seriously though, what a great idea for a facility like CB to adopt their own dog. The administrator said they've received many emails and phone calls saying that very same thing. (now they need a cat!)

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Speaking of cats - here's a typical morning scenario:

The third one was just out of camera range. Can't a person pee in peace?!

I had turkey, cauliflower broccoli
au gratin, and chipotle cranberry sauce for dinner. The last item is kinda cheating, but I made it myself and there's very little sugar in it.
For dessert I had an obscene amount of whipped cream.
And I may have more later.

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I've been watching The Monkees on Netflix. Too funny.

Itchy

2011-11-24T10:04:00.001-05:00

Isn't that the name of the cat on The Simpsons? (Ah, no. That would be the mouse. Scratchy is the cat.)

I have pityriasis rosea on my neck and chest.
Don't worry, it's not contagious. It's caused by one of them there herpes viruses (maybe). Just how many of those stupid herpes things are there?! I think it's fair to say that none of them are good.

Guess what else? I'm in the lucky (heh) 2% who have a yearly re-occurrence. For the past four years it has appeared in the fall. Yes, there are scarves - except...dun dun dun...heat makes it worse.

It was first misdiagnosed as a yeast infection by a regular MD. At their suggestion, Vagisil was purchased to slather on my neck. It did nothing except cause embarrassment at check out.

When I went for my ~~annual~~ cheap Irish complexioned visit to the dermatologist, it had just cropped up again. He kinda snorted when he heard the yeast infection diagnosis then prescribed some cortisone ointment. Which thankfully, (hey, a thanks giving!), blessedly, makes the itching stop.

Well another cup of coffee, then I'm off to Whole Foods for some turkey and to visit with Mom for a bit.

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Obligatory Thanksgiving Post

2011-11-23T19:41:00.001-05:00

I'm not going to hit that thankful thing right away, rather meander over to it - consider yourself forewarned.

Today at work it was slooooow, and I did a far amount of reading on the interwebz.

Here's a sampling:
First, Can the Bulldog Be Saved? Good question. After reading the article, I needed to see what a Leavitt bulldog looked like, and ended up here: http://leavittbulldogassociation.com/

Then I looked at an American Bulldog for comparison. http://www.bulldoginformation.com/american-bulldog.html

I'm pretty sure that's the kind of dog my dad had - he LOVED that dog. It killed snakes.

My favorite, the Bull Terrier (the Target dog). http://www.terrificpets.com/dog_breeds/bull_terrier.asp

Tired of dogs now, I read about Demi Moore's past relationships in the Huffington Post, and about porn that women like in Slate.
Also at Slate, I perused several Dear Prudence articles, the pictures of the day, an article about Joan Didion's new book, learned the difference between macarons, macaroons and macaroni, and in 20 pies for 19 guests, found out what a Ecclefechan tart and a funeral pie was. Erm...is. Mmmmm, mincemeaty. (seems people either love or hate mincemeat pie. No mince middle ground. I am firmly in the lover of mince category.)

Keeping on the food trail, there's sweet potatoes and greens in the Durham paper. Here's how to make gluten free gravy as well as a couple of GF desserts: http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/11/23/health-tips-from-the-thankgiving-help-line/

BPA in canned goods possibly a cause of diabetes: http://www.wwlp.com/dpp/news/local/hampden/study%3A-bpa-in-canned-foods-harmful

Elephants dying from drought in Zimbabwe: http://allafrica.com/stories/201111180028.html

At the LA Times (Europe section): Hugh Grant becoming the spokesperson of sorts for the phone hacking scandal; most British critics are loving Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher - if not the movie.

The Shadow Wolves were also in the LA Times.

But I think the best thing I read all day was this story on prison hospice.

**************************************************************************
Mom is about the same. Her care rate went up about $1000 - but if they cut out a lot of her meds it will be about $500 instead. She often refuses to take them and it really doesn't matter if she takes her Plavix anymore.
A bill from UNC hospital came, says she owes about $1200. I'm not sure they submitted it to Tricare though.
Fiddle dee dee. Will deal with that on Monday.

***************************************************************************
Who do these guys sound like?

This video is slightly creepy, but I like the song.

When I watch the video below I wonder what it would be like to look like this girl (oh yeah, she is a girl).
I think of power - the power of youth and sex appeal.

********************************************************************************
Finally, the thanks giving part. I told you it would be a meander. One final article on the health benefits of gratitude: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/22/science/a-serving-of-gratitude-brings-healthy-dividends.html

A few days ago, I received an email from Local Harvest. The last paragraph said:
"A few months ago someone sent me a quotation from a Native American prayer which says, "Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way."
So may we express our gratitude around our Thanksgiving tables, for those blessings already manifest, and for the capacity to sustain the hope that what is needed is on its way."

Well said.

Thanks ya'll for the known and the unknown blessings.

I Thought Yesterday

2011-11-20T09:25:00.001-05:00

was going to be the BIG ONE. You know - the one where Mom dies.

CB called around 7:30 AM and said Mom had "taken a turn".
In near superhuman fashion - twenty minutes - I was dressed, make-uped, had fed the cats, scooped litter boxes and at CB.
A., (one of Mom's favorite aides, mine too), said her heart rate had gone down, she was having trouble breathing. They had called hospice and given her two morphine doses (5:30 and 7:30). She was sleeping.

I settled in, read some Frankenstein on my kick-ass phone, texted some folks (please bring coffee!) and threw away some stuff. (just getting a head start on what I'll have to do anyway - don't begrudge me small pleasures)
D. came with coffee. To kill some time, we looked through Dad's war and peace medals and other military paraphernalia, where she noticed an awesome walrus head tie tack - which now lives on my jacket.

Mom continued to sleep...well, like the dead.

Then sometime in the afternoon she woke up, was agitated. Had another dose of the big M., had her mouth wiped out with nitroglycerin swabs (encourages saliva).
We called my brother; she perked up so much after that she drank some sweet tea, ate a graham cracker, and a few tiny bites of peach yogurt. She talked, in her way.

Laughed when D. imitated Donald Duck, then called her a "shit hound".
Yes, exactly that.

She drifted back to sleep after a few hours. I met Anon CP at Whole Foods for brisket and salad.
Went home, changed clothes (it was hotter than Hades in her room), fed cats, and washed my face twice -something had irritated the crap out of it. It was bright red and felt like it was on fire. Could have been the coconut lotion I put on Mom's hands.

When I returned, Mom was sitting in the living room! talking about puppies and who knows what else.
We went back to her room and alternated between watching Up and Splendor in the Grass - quite the combo, I know. She was more talkative during Splendor. We discussed whether that was Sandy Dennis or Tuesday Weld (Sandy), how handsome Warren was, what a cad he was, how pretty Natalie was, etc. I left around 9-9:30, sat in my driveway talking to my sister. Remembered I needed darn cat food and had to go to Kroger.
***************************************************************************
Today, after the Gals Second Annual Mutiny Anniversary Lunch, I went over. Was just in time for sing-a-long - my favorite! (I'll let you decide if I'm being sarcastic or not.)

CB has adopted a puppy, their very own live-in therapy dog - which is a great idea. Her name is Avery and she is adorable (all the more so because she's not piddling on my carpet).

I didn't stay long, I had a raging headache.
Surely brought on by the roller coaster ride of "My mother's dying - oh wait. Never mind."

****************************************************************************

A Veritable Plethora of Stuff

2011-11-15T19:49:00.001-05:00

Maybe.

I am prickly. That's what the ex-BF said about his family - they were a prickly bunch (he included himself in that description, just so you know).

That's an apt description of how I feel lately.

Yesterday the cashier at Kohl's kept my 15% discount card after swiping it, saying that it was for one time use only. She gave it back when I asked for it, but only reluctantly.
I wanted to call a manager and have the poor girl flogged or something else Nathaniel Hawthorne-y. Because she was wrong.
Instead, as I signed the credit card receipt, I muttered "that's BS" under my breath. Passive-aggressive is my middle name ya'll.

Today at the pharmacy in Kroger my eye rolling and heavy sighing was JUST BARELY contained when I was chided - yes, chided - for not picking up an order, then a big deal was made about them having to ring up two avocados and take a coupon.
All the while someone was standing INSIDE MY PERSONAL BUBBLE (granted I have large sphere). It took TWO "looks" for her to step back. RESPECT THE BUBBLE!
Especially the prickly ones.

Then I come home to zero Netflix movies because the mail person at our building is a doofus and for some reason is not picking up the outgoing mail. Erg.

So yeah. Prickly.

******************************************************************************
I am addicted to La Croix sparkling water, mainly the grapefruit (pamplemousse in French) and the lime. When I saw the coconut flavor in Target, I thought - okay, sure, I'll try it.
Oh friends. As it turns out, I do not like drinking what suntan lotion smells like.

*****************************************************************************
My nephew called me last night, to check on his Nana. Awww. Sorry the report is so crappy.

I took over some size eleven (that's MY size!) slippers last night - hoping they might fit when the edema is bad. She had some TED hose on and was wearing her normal slippers. She fell asleep in the dining room so I took my leave.
But not before Miss Myrtle almost made me cry by asking me what she could do that was the right thing. She just wanted to do the right thing so she didn't have to be in there. Sigh.

The hospice social worker called today and said she was sleeping (still?) and her feet were elevated. She asked me how I was doing. Of course I said fine.
************************************************************
Speaking of shoes (well awhile back we were) - how cute are these:

Pretty f*&^ing cute right? That's what I thought too, so I ordered them. They look like just the cure for pricklyitus.

So Far (continued)

2011-11-13T16:46:00.001-05:00

I've taken a walk:

When I started walking again after taking the above picture, my right knee got all stupid and wonky. It seems mostly better now.

Yea, that's my shadow

After the walk, it was Walmart for cat litter, cat food, whipped cream, (one rule on this crazy diet - DO NOT run out of whipped cream), and in spite of not being not on the "need" list - Elf.
I HATE Christmas, but I LOVE that stupid movie.

Off to CB to visit Mom, the hospice volunteer was there. Mom's feet and legs were so swollen; they had alerted hospice. Nothing else to do.

Afterward, I returned slippers to Target that won't fit her sausage-like feet, then the Post Office to mail a package.

Now I'm going to eat salad and whipped cream - not at the same time - and watch Elf.

So Far

2011-11-13T09:40:00.001-05:00

today I have re-arranged a couple of shelves in the pantry, washed dishes, cleaned out the frig (old cauliflower - ewwww), a load of clothes, and vacuumed. (Can you ever remember how to spell vacuum? I always start with two c's then switch to two u's. It doesn't look right either way.)

***************************************************************

Last week at Twig, a great local store that carries sustainable fair traded goods, I saw these little treats:

Aren't they cute? Silicon lids that stretch to fit just about anything (they come in about five different sizes from tiny to cover-a-watermelon. These are the second size up). There's also a ziploc type bag you can cook or freeze in, but it was very small and expensive.
Don't they look like they're from the land of IKEA? They are in fact, Spanish.

************************************************************************
Fawn sent me this hilarious commercial.

***************************************************************************

Fall

2011-11-11T22:55:00.001-05:00

Dwindling

2011-11-09T20:32:00.000-05:00

That's the word the doctor used yesterday when describing Mom's health.

She is not eating much, but still up and around.

Yesterday evening I went over during supper.

"Hello darlin'", said She Who Scrapes Her Robe With Her Butter Knife While Humming, (see The Supper Club).
Myrtle came to the table late, having been to the eye doctor. Her daughter sat for a few minutes; she's pretty stressed out by it all. Still in the I Can't Believe This Is Happening stage.
Really it's more like the I Can't Believe This Is Happening.
Been there, done that sister.

Mom was in a great mood, having a laughing spell every five minutes. Talkative and fairly understandable. She ate most of her carrot raisin salad and a couple of bites of chocolate ice cream. Lips clinched shut at pork chop and baked potato (even with cheese and bacon!).

Tonight was a different story. She sat slumped in a wheelchair, mostly incoherent, ate all of three bites of pie. We lingered in the middle of the dining room for a half hour afterward.
Just sitting, holding hands.

************************************************************************
I missed the end of a promotional period for a dental credit card the end of October and they added the $600 worth of deferred interest to my bill.
OMG does not even begin to cover it. The kicked-in-the-solar-plexus-I-can't-breathe-and-I'm-going-to-throw-up feeling as the realization of the missed deadline sunk in.
I called them tonight sitting in front of CB and played the [very real] "mother was in hospital and now in hospice" card. They told me that if I paid the previous balance in full by midnight tonight - they would waive the finance charges.
I cried with gratitude.

The Cleaning Frenzy Continues

2011-11-06T11:14:00.001-05:00

Maybe it's the extra hour of sleep. It's like the new year - wait it IS the new year according to the Celtic calendar.

I even had an epiphany about my bowls that have been on the second shelf for seven and a half years. They are always hard to reach, especially when they're all clean and stacked high.

PUT. THEM. ON. THE. FIRST. SHELF.

Whaaaaaa??????

Before

After

All I can say is - Duh!
And now I see the glasses and mugs order should be reversed on the second shelf because the mugs are used more. Talk about a creature of habit - the mugs went right back where they have been for seven and a half years.

Cleaned the ceiling fan and reversed the spin cycle using this ladder, a birthday present last year from employers, even though they were not my employers at the time.

Very sturdy with wide steps and a handle

Fits in tiny space when folded

Having a small house I am NUTS about stuff that collapses (colanders, measuring cups) and fits into a small space.

*************************************************************************

Debra over at As I See It Now posed the question "What's On Your Refrigerator" a few days ago. Intriguing.
Here's what's on mine:

Front

The bowl postcard was sent to me by my friend E. who lives in New Mexico. The potter on the postcard is Betsy Williams. Her work is exquisite. E. is also an excellent potter and I have quite a few of her pieces.

The other is for a local artist I like a lot. There's a link to her website at the bottom of this blog.

Right side

That Paint Guest Room decree has been up there for about a year. Guess I'm ignoring it.

In case I forget

That is a picture of me from the Steve's BBQ days about a hundred years ago. I like it even though my left eye looks wonky. (and hello - pleated pants are not our friend!) The haircut was by a guy named Cedric who would come to your house.

See the ring on my right hand? That's so I'd know which hand was my right. Now I wear rings on both hands so I have to say in my head, I write with my right.

Takes time and is why I need driving directives early in the game.

***********************************************************************

Okay, I am fired up from caffeine and off to switch the glasses and mugs.

D'oh!

You're Purdy

2011-11-05T20:43:00.001-04:00

Well that's what Mom said the other night.
The hospice social worker had called to say that Mom had a headache while she was there and they gave her some morphine...(maybe that's why I was purdy!), and it just seemed like I should stop by.
Her verbal skills are deteriorating fast. Really fast. "Hey" is still clear as a bell though. We sat in the dining room and she folded a Kleenex over and over. That was pretty much it for about an hour.

CB called last night to say that Mom was sitting on the floor in her room. (they have to tell you everything)
No injuries, everything was fine; they bundled her back into bed.

******************************************************************

This was the sky today:

Walked, talked, and saw "Puss N' Boots" with a couple of the Gals (there is a small select group of us who like animation).

There was a chicken in the theatre...a chicken purse that is! It's Anon CP's. Dear me, that is a good fun time.

Cluck!

Settling in for the movie - hence the blurriness.

CP could be a bit broody (ahahaha) because she is getting real chickens (not purse ones) that will live in one of these adorable houses from Omlet (UK of course). They have cute beehives and houses for bunnies and hamsters too. Beekeeping kinda fascinates and scares me at the same time. Hmmm.

*****************************************************************************
I read somewhere that if you want to be productive - don't take off your shoes when you get home.
That is the first thing I do. The second thing is feed the cats. (Because there is no peace otherwise) Third thing is put on my pajamas.

Today when I got home, I did not take my shoes off. The pantry got cleaned out and organized. (Maybe there's something to that)
I discovered there were at least twenty glass jars that were holding stuff I don't want around now - dangerous carby things like pasta and croutons.

All this must go.

Except the cat.

Eleven jars! need a good home. Made in France. Every single one of them. (they don't come home unless they're from Italy or France)

******************************************************************************
I just finished watching Sons of Anarchy Season Three, which was mostly set in Belfast, Northern Ireland. There was a lot of talk about Orangemen, Provos, The Army, the UVF, and a song about the "big fellah" (Michael Collins) I wondered if most people got all that.

********************************************************************************
And finally, some music. This is my favorite version of Amazing Grace as sung by Tim Eriksen. The part at the end - sounds just like Mongolian throat singing.

One Last Post For The Day

2011-10-30T16:48:00.000-04:00

Yesterday in the wet cold we Gals tried out a new walking venue (for some of us) over in Meadowmont, a high end Chapel Hill "planned community", (which I find slightly creepy. Brings to mind the movie "Pleasantville").

Been Getting Some Flack

2011-10-30T16:01:00.000-04:00

about the music posted here lately.

What makes a song or music appealing to a person? Who knows.

For me it's often imagery. Chris Bathgate is kinda my new favorite singer/songwriter. He seems Southern to me, but he is a Midwesterner from Michigan. His songs have a dark edge to them, but they are beautiful too. NPR said they are "dusky and deliberate". I like that.

"Poor Eliza" reminds me of Cold Mountain. No, wait. Outer Dark. Like Cormac McCarthy's writing, the song has a menacing tone.

Sometimes I like a song because it makes me laugh. Wish I could find the one I'm thinking of - the singer talks about his girlfriend leaving him like a kidney stone. Ouch!

Here's some [hopefully] not depressing stuff.

A sweet song about happenstance or serendipity:

Or this perky (and potential ear worm) song (any song where my kitchen might say - hang around baby,baby, I'll be baking a cake for you - is fun in my book):

This one by Mutemath is reminiscent of Earth, Wind and Fire with its funky beat and brass:

Happy now?

The State of Things

2011-10-30T12:00:00.001-04:00

Thursday evening I met the hospice volunteer at CB, who can only come on weeknights or weekends - because she has a full time job.
If you're thinking I had some guilt when she told me this - you are correct.

But seriously, it has to be easier when it isn't your parent shaking, drooling, and saying "hey!" every five seconds. A veritable walk in the f&*#ing park.

Anyway, the girl we'll call Erin was lovely. Mom seemed to like her, called her darling.
Erin asked what Mom liked to do. I was thinking she was pretty much looking at it [Mom sitting on the couch holding my hand]. She can't read anymore, but might enjoy being read to; not sure she tracks TV. There's no conversation to speak of. Unless you count "hey!".

Bought this at Whole Foods (not just for brisket anymore!) and brought it over:

It attaches to baby's crib and plays four different sounds, (heartbeat, rain, ocean, and whale song), to help sleep. Mom used to have a bunch of those type of CD's and I thought it might be soothing.

She asked if it was dead. (Eyes closed?)

When the ocean sound was played for her she said, "Weather." (thought it was rain?)

She seemed restless, wanted to walk, then sit down, then walk. Her legs were swollen and hard as a rock. The tremor in her right hand is still there. She kept saying she was cold, but her hands were warm. I wonder if the shaking from the tremor makes her think she's cold.

During one of our little walkabouts, a tall gentleman was sitting in the dining room, (see The Supper Club), with his legs stretched out into the hallway. Mom said "I'm old!" as we came upon him. This is apparently elder code for "Hey, I'm walking here!", since he pulled his legs in.

Road sign in Newcastle, Northern Ireland

Mom said "Grandma" when we stopped by the finch cage in the entryway. I asked her if she was seeing dead people (because I'm a smart ass), she said no.

Granny did, in the last year. She wanted us to get dogs out of the room that weren't there and sometimes all sorts of dead folks - mothers, brothers - were hanging out with us.

She also thought she was married to her doctor and my mother had had twins with someone other than my [dead] father.

Oh, and she had peach cobbler with President Bush right over there.

I called the hospice nurse about Mom's legs and she sent this email:

Saw ______ today and spoke to Dr M. about the edema in her legs. There is definitely a fluid shift, but she also has an issue with hypostatic hypotension, which is when she stands up her b/p drops, then slowly resumes to normal. But because of this we hesitate to increase her Lasix as this can increase the drop in her b/p.
We can however shift the fluid back into her system by utilizing edema wraps. We will wrap her legs with kerlix (to assure they stay dry) and cover the kerlix with a layer of coban a self adhesive product similar to ace bandages except they mold to the pts legs and do not slip.
These will be changed 2 x week and as needed by hospice staff and the expense is incurred by hospice.
When the edema resolves we can try changing to TED hose but if they are not effective we will continue with the edema wrap indefinitely. The edema is related to her heart failure and may be an ongoing issue at this point.

So there you have it.

Purses, Flyleaf Books, and Other Stuff

2011-10-28T23:03:00.002-04:00

I am making my own damn brisket right now instead of forking over a s&*%load of money to Whole Foods and my house smells oh my god so good.
Packet of onion soup mix, a bottle of ginger beer, cup of ketchup - pour over brisket, bake for 2 hours at 375, uncover and bake for another hour. I'll let you know.
***************************************************************************
I don't know what got me thinking about Mom's purse this week. The back when I was a kid purse.
Wasn't Mom's purse the best?
So dark and mysterious - full of anything you could need: Kleenex, band-aids, Fruit Stripe gum, a collapsible plastic cup/medicine holder (Mom's was a sort of marbilized mint green color), and
cigarettes - besides being useful for smoking and looking cool, when combined with spit would "pull the poison" out of a bee sting. Better livin' through tobacco!

There also lurked, in the depths of the purse, a vile evil thing. A thing that masqueraded as something good. A thing known as...Aspergum.

Aspergum was close to the size and shape of Chiclets. In a clandestine guerrilla style purse search (hand in feeling around, while eyes were peeled for mother approach) - I would think I had gotten lucky. Until I bit into one of those disgusting things.
Mom used gross us out by chewing up aspirin tablets. I think my brother used to do that too. Egads.
She thought it served us right (me right) for stealing gum. Child abuse I say.

**************************************************
So Flyleaf Books. Wednesday evening I went with someone, who shall not be mentioned on account of the newly instated "no tagging" rule, to hear John Jeremiah Sullivan read from his collection of essays: Pulphead.
I don't normally do this sort of thing, but I had recently made the comment that I was not interested in anything. Which sounds either terribly boring or terribly stuck-up, and really isn't true.
Guess what? It turned out to be oddly fascinating, involving John Fahey and deciphering old, old, old blues songs.

ANYWAY, in walks this rather portly gentleman - and his jacket logo says "Think BIG".
No, I mean it.
Was he being ironic?
Still makes me chuckle.

********************************************
Music's obvious choice tonight is John Fahey, from his "Of Rivers and Religion" LP: Steamboat Gwine Round Da Bend. My dad loved him some guitar playing, he owned this album.

Today (Again)

2011-10-23T19:33:00.000-04:00

You know, sometime I just can't be bothered with thinking of some new and clever title. Sorry.

First - I have made it down into the next decade on the scale. Shut the front door! 18 pounds lost since I first dared to get on the scale again.

This is what I made for supper:

Turkey meatloaf muffins

Had a lovely day at WSM with the Gals, came home and cleaned (used my steam cleaner), washed clothes, cooked meatloaf and took out the recycling.
Now time for some Modern Family while enjoying some whipped cream for dessert.

If you enjoy personality tests (even though there's no science to them according to someone I know :), here's a good one Steffi sent me.
Can you guess what my number is?

Below is Dr.Phil's test. (Dr. Phil scored 55, he did this test on Oprah and she got a 38.)

Answers are for who you are now and not who you were in the past.
This is a real test given by Human Relations Departments at many of
the major corporations today. It helps them get better insight concerning their employees and in their prospective employees.

There are 10 simple questions, so grab a pencil and paper. Record your
letter answers to each question.

Ready?

1. When do you feel your best...
A) in the morning
B) during the afternoon and early evening
C) late at night

2. You usually walk...
A) fairly fast, with long steps
B) fairly fast, with little steps
C) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
D) less fast, head down
E) very slowly

3. When talking to people you...
A) stand with your arms folded
B) have your hands clasped
C) have one or both your hands on your hips
D) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
E) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair

4. When relaxing, you sit with..
A) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
B) your legs crossed
C) your legs stretched out or straight
D) one leg curled under you

5. When something really amuses you, you react with...
A) big appreciated laugh
B) a laugh, but not a loud one
C) a quiet chuckle
D) a sheepish smile

6. When you go to a party or social gathering you...
A) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
B) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
C) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed

7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're
interrupted...
A) welcome the break
B) feel extremely irritated
C) vary between these two extremes

8. Which of the following colors do you like most....

A) Red or orange

B) black

C) yellow or light blue
D) green
E) dark blue or purple
F) white
G) brown or gray

9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before
going to sleep you are.....

A) stretched out on your back
B) stretched out face down on your stomach
C) on your side, slightly curled
D) with your head on one arm
E) with your head under the covers

10. You often dream that you are...
A) falling
B) fighting or struggling
C) searching for something or somebody
D) flying or floating
E) you usually have dreamless sleep
F) your dreams are always pleasant

POINTS:

1. (a) 2 (b) 4 (c) 6
2. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 7 (d) 2 (e) 1
3. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 5 (d) 7 (e) 6
4. (a) 4 (b) 6 (c) 2 (d) 1
5. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 2
6. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 2
7. (a) 6 (b) 2 (c) 4
8. (a) 6 (b) 7 (c) 5 (d) 4 (e) 3 (f) 2 (g) 1
9. (a) 7 (b) 6 (c) 4 (d) 2 (e ) 1
10 (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 6 (f) 1

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with
care." You're seen as vain, self-centered, and extremely dominant. Others
may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always
trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile,
rather impulsive personality, a natural leader, who's quick to make
decisions, though not always the right ones. They see you as bold and
adventuresome, someone who will try anything once,someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the
excitement you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing,
practical, and always interesting, someone who's constantly in the center
of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their
head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding, someone
who'll always cheer them up and help them out.

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful &
practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a
person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's
extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expects the same loyalty in
return. Those who really get to know you, realize it takes a lot to shake
your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to
get over if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They
see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder.
It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or
on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully
from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this
reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive,
someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make
the decisions and who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or
anything! They see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist.
Some people think you're boring. Only those who know you well know that
you aren't.

The Supper Club

2011-10-21T21:46:00.001-04:00

Technically in the South the last meal of the day is called supper. It used to consist of leftovers from dinner - the big midday meal that gave you energy to plow the rest of the back forty. (wonder if Queenie the mule got a big dinner too?) Eating the leftovers at supper meant you started from scratch for breakfast the next day.

Anyway, last night I went over to CB for supper.
"Hey", Mom said when she saw me. Then she said it again. And again. And some more.
Apparently Iggy has been replaced.

Let's meet the rest of our table companions shall we?

To Mom's left is "Myrtle". Myrtle might have been quite the astute business woman in her day - nothing gets past her.
After she ate every single scrap of food on her plate and did the same to her dessert she said, "Let me ask you something. That sweet potato was good, but how much did I pay for it? Would it hurt them to give us some dessert? I would pay more for that. I don't mind paying for it."
She picked up a sliver of green bean that had fallen on the tablecloth, held it out on the tip of her finger to a passerby and asked, "Do you know what this is? Is this all they give us? Who's running this place?! Would it kill them to give us some dessert!?"

Continuing around the table to Myrtle's left is The Hummer. But let's give her a better name. Say, Dorothy.
Her Native American name would be She Who Scrapes Her Robe With Her Butter Knife While Humming. Dorothy is genial and loves to clean up. She takes the used coffee creamer containers and rinses them out in her water glass. She also collects the empty Sweet N' Low packets. If it looks like it needs it, she will scrape the tablecloth with the butter knife. When she speaks she has a lovely Southern accent.

To Dorothy's left is "Jean". Jean likes my mother and blows her kisses. She likes to hold my hand sometimes. She's pretty low key and doesn't say much.

Finally, there's "Barbara", the den mother of this table. She's always decked out in her finery, rings on her fingers, plastic bead necklace, a brooch penned jauntily on her holiday sweatshirt. She has coffee with dessert, with cream and two packets of "sugar" - the empties of which Dorothy promptly collects.
Dorothy was humming, Mom was saying "hey", and Myrtle was asking about the price of dessert when a man at another table shouted "Shut-up!" Barbara looked over at me and said, "Can you believe this bunch?"

Mom was cold and one hand shook, making me think it was a tremor, not cold. She had taken a bite of her sweet potato and maybe two of her chicken. I tried to get her to eat another bite of the potato, but her lips clamped shut. I could hear her saying "I don't like that."
The staff was withholding dessert until she ate more. WTF. If that's all she wants to eat, fine. Give the woman her stupid Ensure and pound cake. Grrrr.

After supper we went into the living room. The woman who is always saying help me, oh God somebody help me was in rare form last night. Mom had a coughing attack and the woman told her to shut up. Mom said "Oh you shut up."
Heh.
You tell her Mom.

All the commotion seemed to be getting on Mom's nerves (or maybe that was my nerves), so we walked over to the Activity Room. Our pal Myrtle was there, examining scraps of material.
"Do you think I can take these? Should I pay for them? These are for the bathroom (a dog and cat print). This one seems cheap (an angel print) and tacky."

Then the "help me" woman (shall we call her Rhonda?) was wheeled in.
We spotted Mom's walker in the corner, identified with a luggage tag of a Boston Terrier. (Mookie!)

"Fix it up."
I took that to mean open it up so she could use it. She went back into the living room with Jean, and I headed home to feed supper to those darn cats.

****************************************************

Here's an update on Mom's condition. She is walking much better, really didn't need the walker. There was a wheelchair and oxygen in her room.
But there's the tremor and some drooling. I called hospice to see if either of those was due to new medications or old medications stopping.
Her mental decline is worse. Trauma (hospital visits, being sick) will do that.
Sigh.

***********************************************************************

For tonight's music we have The Bulgarian Voices Angelite Dragana I Slavei. This gives me goosebumps. Like bagpipes.

Dear Old Oscar

2011-10-16T13:03:00.000-04:00

It's his birthday today. (The man not the cat).

It is also the birthday of Angela Lansbury, Tim Robbins, Bob Weir, Flea, Eugene O'Neill, Michael Collins, and Noah Webster.

Grand company to be sure.

**************************************

Did you ever wonder how Oscar Wilde (the cat not the man) got his moniker? Whether you have or not, here's the story.

I hate that thing vets do, which is to give your pet, who is not related to you in any way, your last name.
It's weird. My father had nothing to do with these cats. Stage set then.

When I adopted Oscar from the Yulee, FL shelter, his name was Grayson.
He thought the name was so stupid his ear didn't even flick in my direction when called.

I tried other languages for the color grey (technically his coloring is blue).
Gris. Ah, no. (side note: In France, to be "grey" (être gris) means to be drunk.)

Then I thought of Dorian Gray.
But I'm not a fan of the name Dorian (Greek, meaning from the sea).

But wait! Who wrote Dorian Gray?
That's right, your pal and mine - Oscar Wilde.

And guess what - he came running when called.

Oscar Wilde (the cat)

Today Was A Soft Day

2011-10-15T21:52:00.001-04:00

You know the kind.

The sky was perfect Carolina soft blue, the breeze had just a tinge of soft chill, the temperature was 74 soft degrees, the soft light was fall.

It was nice.

I walked some, sat and laughed with my friends some, drank coffee some. Grocery shopped some, came home, sat some, read some.

Here's what the cats did:

SQUIRREL!!! LOOOOK! On the steps! OMG!OMG!OMG!

Whatever.

Birthday Boy

2011-10-15T19:53:00.000-04:00

Today is The Boy's birthday.

You know what that means...
Tomorrow is Oscar Wilde's birthday (the man - not the cat.).

But back to The Boy. Who, by the way, HATES being called that.
Or used to.
Whatever. He tells people I have a stutter because I put an extra "n" on the end of his first name, so we're even as far as I'm concerned.
He also likes to remind me that his initials spell out SMAK.
What's the problem?
Don't get anything monogrammed...
and...
here's a little something for your therapy fund.

I'm happy you're here.

Update

2011-10-14T21:49:00.000-04:00

Soooooo...
Mom came home from UNC hospital Wednesday night; hospital bed was in place at CB.

She is very weak, but being in bed for five days will knock the wind out of anyone's sails I'm thinking. Then there's the pneumonia and her heart only pumping at 15% of its capacity. Last night she could barely walk two or three steps without having to rest.

(Let me interject that I want to drink a lot of wine. Right now. And eat much cake. But I'm not.)

This morning I signed her care over to hospice. We want for her never to go back to the hospital, for her to be comfortable with no invasive radical treatment efforts.

Don't break out the sack cloth and ashes though - she's not there yet. Plus this woman comes from a long line of death bed vigil bouncer backers.

They ordered oxygen, that will make her more comfortable. (I had asthma as a child and there is barely anything worse than struggling to breathe.)

Hospice pays for most of her meds, any equipment (oxygen, wheelchairs, hospital beds, etc.), and supplies (Depends), she needs. They bathe her and wash her hair. Her CNA makes body lotion for all her patients. (That just about killed me with kindness.) They will come as often as they need - the sicker she is, the more often they come. We're starting off with three days a week.

Last night I sat next to her as she ate her pie. Watched the woman across the table scrape her robe with her butter knife as she hummed constantly.

I don't think anything has hit me yet. I'm a fall-apart-later kinda gal. I think.

"Hope In The Air"

There is a man that I know,
seventeen years, he never spoke.
Guessed he had nothing to say,
he opened his mouth on Judgement Day.

I listened with all of my might,
but was scared by the look in his eyes.
Like he'd already lost the fight,
and there was no hope ever in sight.

No hope in the air,
no hope in the water,
not even for me,
your last serving daughter.

Why fear death, be scared of living,
our hearts are small and ever thinning.
There is no hope ever of winning,
oh, why fear death, be scared of living.

I have seen men provoked,
and I have seen lives revoked,
and I looked at my life and choked.
From there no more ever I spoke.

I can't give up that quick.
My life is a candle and a wick.
You can put it out but you can't break it down,
in the end we are waiting to be lit.

There's hope in the air,
there's hope in the water,
but sadly not me,
your last serving daughter.

A friend is a friend forever,
and a good one will never leave, never.
But you've have never been south of what blows off your mouth,
you will never understand, ever.

You speak minds handed down to you,
by the lies handed down by your truth,
and your angels will dance at your will,
will mask your scrambling youth.

I forgave you your short comings,
and ignored your childish behaviour.
Laid a kiss on your head,
and before I left said, "stay away from fleeting failure".

There's hope in the air,
there's hope in the water,
but sadly not me,
your last serving daughter.

Pick up your rope Lord, sling it to me,
if we are to battle I must not be weak.
And give us your strength world, and your food and your water,
oh, I am your saviour, your last serving daughter.

There's hope in the air,
there's hope in the water,
but sadly not me,
your last serving daughter.

There's hope in the air,
there's hope in the water,
But no hope for me,
your last serving daughter.

Love This Song

2011-10-11T19:19:00.000-04:00

Poor Eliza (Chris Bathgate)

I'm sinking come save me

Poor Eliza my patsy

My visions all black holed and quivering

It is what it is what it is

I curse thee for placing these dark days upon me

For setting my blood as your dowry

It is what it is what it is

My wife is older and has no intentions

Is mindfully out in the garden

Out with the hay softly darkening

And painting it all light and liquid

The shadows all serious and cursive

All washing out in the distance

Me and me and my flat-footed daydream

We hold it together so simply

All sovereign and long to be sleeping

Cause we have been saving our birthdays

From heartbreak and winter and swift chase

The song:

Live:

Prophetic

2011-10-11T07:45:00.000-04:00

Back on Oct. 4 I wrote that this was the time of year Mom takes a down turn.
Saturday night CB called around 10:30 pm leaving a message to call them. When I reached them (the phone was on the kitchen table and I was here), they said she had some trouble breathing; they called the doctor and then the EMT's, then me.

As I put makeup BACK on (proof positive of my Southerness; I will put makeup on to take out the garbage.) and contacts back in, I was reminded of Andrea's recent post To The ER.
Thankfully I had taken a lovely long nap that afternoon. And I had my wall charger in my purse.

Reader's Digest version: we were in the ER for a relatively short time - a mere five hours from dropping off car at emergency room valet (I love that), until getting back in it again to drive home. They admitted her with pneumonia and fluid in her lungs because her heart is not working at capacity.
Because we do not want to do any sort of invasive treatment hospice is getting involved.
That's all I have time for now.

St. Pete
Shannon Wright

Two young horses dragging to St Pete
Worn out tired, right here

And the night falls on this oceans' white hour
‘Cause you won’t be coming home to me
And you said it sad and so playfully
I wish God would make things clear
‘Cause there’s no fight left in me

Relentlessly the sun is igniting
While all these concrete boxes sit empty
On these defeated Floridian streets
I know you won’t be coming home to me

Two young horses dragging to St Pete
Worn out, tired
Worn out, tired
There’s no fight left in me

(the YouTube link cuts off before the end of the song, but it was the only one I could find)

Today

2011-10-08T21:31:00.000-04:00

reminded me of this e. e. cummings poem:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
wich is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

This is the Time of Year

2011-10-04T19:38:00.000-04:00

when my mother tends to experience a trauma that precipitates a drop down to the next plateau of dementedness.

In preparation for the possibility of another 14 hr ER visit, I:

Purchased another wall charger for my phone and tucked it in my purse.
Downloaded free classic books (which I have not read): Moby Dick, Frankenstein, The Wind in The Willows, and A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court.
Transferred my music to the wonder phone.

*****************************************************************
One of the down sides of people getting my blog via email, is that when they reply to me only I get to see the lovely (or funny) things they say.

Here's some of the things said (that made me cry) regarding A Fallow Period:

- Also let's talk about not beating yourself up about your mom. And we will help take care of you :)

- Above all, do not punish yourself for those thoughts. You want a release for both of you. When you least expect it, a Guardian will come along to take care of you. Above all, just know you are loved.

- It's ok Its been a long hard time for you. She would not want to stay like this. Don't beat youself up. Stay strong. We love you.

- I always think of you as brave strong and creative.

Thanks everyone. These feel like hugs - which I like if they're from people I love. :)

Personal Bubble

2011-10-04T18:58:00.000-04:00

Reading Cataline's (aka Anon CP) post (read it here), reminded me of something that happened recently.

A gentleman got out of his car to help our UPS driver with the door and locked himself out of the car. Being as I was in the parking lot trying to get my previous Windows phone to work, I got sucked into the maelstrom. Procured a wire coat hanger and then, because he was sure it wouldn't work, proceeded to call AAA for a locksmith. Just as they were confirming the address, by jingo, he unlocked the door. Whoo hoo.

Then...

He wanted to give me a hug for helping him.

I'm ~~almost~~ certain I had the Brad Pitt + baseball (statistics, whatever people) movie look on my face (as in ewwwwwww.), then I said, out loud, "I'm really not a hugger." (If you could only see the look on my face as I relive/type this).

But he was OBLIVIOUS and did it anyway. Talk about no good deed going unpunished.

A Fallow Period

2011-10-02T19:06:00.000-04:00

Fallow: not in use; inactive: My creative energies have lain fallow this year.

Yep, that's me right now.

I'm sad about my mother. Sad that there is less and less of her every time I go. Sad about me and my cowardly ways.
Can I confess that I hope for the big one for her? I really do.
Last year when I was working for The realtor Dude, one of his colleagues, a very funny woman whose father was in a similar situation to Mom's, said all she wanted for Christmas was for her father to die. He waited until New Year's.
It sounds so crass, but, boy, I totally get it.

And then I worry about who's going to take care of me.

__________________________________________________________________

So anyway, I took the Windows phone back and paid for an Android - which I LOVE.
8 mega pixel camera (I think that's more than my "real" camera), an e-book reader - which remembers where I left off - shut up. And - I have reception in my office.

Oh, And...

2011-09-25T18:19:00.001-04:00

I have a new phone.

Still not sure I like it. I've already taken one [of the same phone] back because it went through the battery overnight when it wasn't doing anything.

Cons:
- I have zero reception at work in my windowless office. Or anywhere else at work for that matter, except the parking lot. While the other two people who are on the same freaking network/plan have coverage all over the place and come into my office talking on their phones to taunt me. Joshua, my reluctant BF over at the AT&T store, said I should get reception in my office - since other people do.

- It's a smartypants phone with a big screen - yet videos are crappier than they were on my smaller not smartypants phone. What's with that?!

Pros:
It takes pretty good pictures.

Yesterday, after seeing it in the Southern Season weekly email, I bought some of this:

It is good but salty (lots of salt - 200 mg in 1 teaspoon); slathered some on my eggs this morning.
Figure it was offset by the lower sodium bacon.

I can see it pepping up soup or stews come winter. Or meatloaf.

Has It Really Been Two Weeks OR What The Hell Have I Been Doing?

2011-09-25T13:29:00.000-04:00

Whoa, what the heck HAVE I been doing?
Losing weight for one. (-10 and counting...) Yay! "meat" diet.

Who knew a box of Popsicles a night (aka supper) coulda been throwing a wrench in the old losing weight game plan?! Heh.

Meanwhile, people torture me on their Facebook pages:

My niece made this crepe filled with vanilla pumpkin creme and drizzled with caramel. FOR BREAKFAST!

It's a good thing she lives in Alaska. :)

Allison did this:

Sugar cookies with orange sugar syrup glaze

She makes sure to mention that about 1/2 of the cookies have tiny pieces of dark chocolate in them.

These two need to have a bake off. And a cookbook.

As CP says: pumpkin creme and orange sugar cookies can go to hell. (actually she said that about fruit - same diff.)

Ate at Gourmet Kingdom again last Sunday. Lotus root is my new favorite vegetable (thanks D. for the recommendation). I can't describe the taste, except maybe incredible.

What else? Lots of brain stretching at work.
Imagine being a dispatcher with: ten instructors, five or more classes a day in various parts of the world (two simultaneously in India every day), coordinating across multiple GMT zones, conference bridges, and virtual machines. Oh and the printing...40 books shipped here, 2 books shipped there, 60 books printed in India and shipped here and there...
Every day we (I) get three/four/five new rosters of 15 people each, which cannot be copied and pasted easily into the template we use to send out emails telling them what machine they're on, their access code, conference bridge, etc. First name needs to be in a separate cell from last name, then the email.
I have "the claw" by the end of the day from doing Ctrl c, Ctrl v 225 times.
AND we haven't even ramped up yet!

Here's another video from Ok Go, the folks that brought you the treadmill video a few weeks back.

Most of their videos are fun, but this is my favorite:

Also like Collections of Colonies of Bees: (just music)

Been watching Pee Wee Herman's Playhouse. What a great show. I love Jambi.

Quotes

2011-09-11T10:03:00.001-04:00

Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary. There are burning bushes all around you. Every tree is full of angels. Hidden beauty is waiting in every crumb. Macrina Wiederkehr, O.S.B.
I found that quote on a moon, worn as if it had been a shell. Googled Macrina's name and found her blog.

This quote was on Macrina's blog:
If you aren't happy with what you have, how could you be happier with more. Grandma Ros

I don't know who Grandma Ros is, but she pretty smart.

And now for something completely fun:

Tomorrow

2011-09-10T19:07:00.001-04:00

No post on 9/11 from me.

Click here if you want to read a great (in my opinion) post on the subject by Milton over at don't eat alone.

Here's another blog that a moon, worn as if it had been a shell posted on her [wonderful] blog.

It also has nothing to do with tomorrow; it is restorative in its loveliness. It's in Northern Ireland, so you know, I love it already.
I hope she writes more soon.

Photos of the Day

2011-09-10T18:49:00.000-04:00

On my walk at Booker Creek this morning, there was a blast of summer:

Last of the honeysuckle

Then some of the Gals met at in Pleasantville to get the low down on one of our own who was in the hospital last night after a possible heart attack. Enzyme tests say no. (yay!) She is home now and resting comfortably.

Three of us went out to Woodcrest Farm for the CSA, which is in a slight between season lull; there are still eggs, peppers, eggplants, melons, Roma tomatoes, and Tucker, the best, sweetest Border Collie ever. (no picture of him this time)

My first art purchase was a pastel of eggplants

Swiss Chard time again

After that CP and I went to Heavenly Garden Kingdom or Gourmet Garden or Holy Moly This is Good - a Chinese restaurant in Carrboro.
(real name is Gourmet Kingdom)

This is not your standard Americanized Chinese restaurant.
There was tripe, duck tongue, fish maw (great word!), lamb (not the first meat that comes to mind when thinking Chinese right?), Stinky tofu appetizer, and egg plan (hahaha).

We had the Salt and Pepper Prawns and Stir Fried Green Beans. We ate every last one of every last thing (no rice). The mystery stuff in the beans (which were delicious!) was pickled cabbage.
I stopped at the next table on the way out, embarrassing CP with her good Southern manners, and asked about their dishes. Tripe soup that looked amazingly good, (was informed it would be too hot for me), and the Pecan Prawns, those are on for next time.
(do you say pee-can or pa-con? I'm ambidextrous.)

This is going to be a European evening, meeting a friend at Saffron at 8 for dinner, then a movie at 9:45.

Friday Wrap-up

2011-09-09T22:43:00.002-04:00

My next door neighbor's a nice girl. We share the garbage can and split the bill.
Her father has a brain tumor.
He's my age.
I can't stop thinking about it.
She told me yesterday that his scans don't look good, but they're getting to spend lots of time together.
In a weird way something like this is a blessing - because we have a chance to be with them, kinda wrap things up a bit. Something you don't get when they die suddenly.

*********************************************************

After work I wandered around Kohl's because there were not one, but two coupons - 20% off and $30 in Kohl's cash - burning a hole in my pocket. I'm not walking outta there without using them.
I avoided the Petite section since it makes me sad.

Feck off sad.

And it did, for a while.

After Kohl's I went to see Mom.

She was sitting outside with two other women, enjoying the not sweltering almost fall weather, having a conversation. Conversation is a relative term I guess, but they were all on the same page and enjoying it. Mom pulled up her pants leg and the others did the same. Then they compared whiteness.

We left their fine company and went off to her room to try on the new clothes I procured last week. On the way I discerned something was rotten in Denmark. Oh la.

And then...I had to do the thing I said I NEVER WANTED TO DO AGAIN (hello?! Is anyone listening?) and change my mother's Pull-ups. We both felt better when that was over.

She tried on two pairs of pants and two shirts, which is like an Olympic event for her. The third pair of pants - we're saying they fit because the other two did.

Say cheese came out something like sprayed knees.

That ship has sailed = he's healed?

Okay, you are going to think I am SO mean, but she reminds me of a troll doll in this picture. (I LOVED my troll dolls - so there.) But even more way cuter. See?

She wanted to leave the room and walk about in her new finery. We sat for a few minutes in the living room without the TV (no one is ever in there), holding hands.

"Light of God, light of God," she said out of the blue.
"I'm going..." (to sneeze I think)
"The ladle thing. How'd he look?"
"I don't know. I was done one one one."

Then it was time for her shower and my release back into the real world.

I was heading like a horse towards the barn for Only Burger when I realized the cats were out of kitty crack, which necessitated a drive in the opposite direction to Phydeaux. Burger King is right next door. I am now regretting my dinner choice.

*********************************************************************
Check this out: http://www.jeanniejeannie.com/2011/08/29/the-art-of-clean-up-sorting-and-stacking-everyday-objects/

Know What I Like?

2011-09-04T20:49:00.001-04:00

Thousand Island dressing. I really, really like it. A lot. I could eat a million hard boiled eggs with Thousand Island dressing.

Here's the white trash way of making Thousand Island: Mayo, pickle relish, ketchup - in proportions you like.

Here's another way, using Stonewall Kitchen's Country Ketchup. (for the local folks, Southern Season carries it)

Cuts out the relish middle man and elevates it to just-above-white-trash magic.

Yes, there is a bit of sugar in there and on the "meat" diet, sugar is technically not admissible.

Don't care.

I'm "modifying", as CP called it (when she modified at the movies with Junior Mints).

Cleaning House

2011-09-04T19:50:00.001-04:00

Here's how the housecleaning ritual works for me:

Step One: Get the vacuum out of the closet.

Step Two: Let it sit in the living room for days, (okay, okay!), I mean, weeks, waiting for it to magically clean the house by itself. Or maybe those damn cats will stop using the hose as an attack launch site, GET THE HINT and learn to vacuum. (Or stop shedding completely.)

Sigh. None of those things ever happen.

Step Three: Go on a tear and clean everything - in the front part of the house that is - including steam cleaning the floors.

Then I'm sweaty and exhausted and NEVER want to have to clean again. That never happens either.

When I was little (around three) I had a crush on Mr. Clean. That's right, you heard me. The bald headed, earring wearing, genie-in-a-lamp-looking, cartoon man. This cartoon crush lead to my liking of bald men.

Pretty sure this should be addressed in therapy.

It's quite possible he was the reason I married my ex-husband, since his pate was clean shaven at the time of meeting.
(The power of advertising!)

(Want to win at trivia? Mr. Clean's first name is Veritably.)

Once, a bald man bought my mother and I lunch. We were both wearing hats and looked pretty stunning and it's possible he thought we were high priced ~~call girls~~...escorts. Joke was on him.

That's the only time anything like that has ever happened to me, unless you count that time in Ireland when this young man asked if I cared for a "bit of sport". He took it pretty well when I declined. He wasn't bald or I might have considered it. (just kidding people.) Also, he was very drunk and I was not. It might have turned out differently if things had been reversed.

(An aside: Proctor and Gamble, Mr. Clean's parents, has taken to assuming that I want Febreeze in my Magic Erasers, (which I am totally over the moon about - Magic Erasers, not Febreeze). P&G, I would like to go on record as Do Not Like-ing. I can't get the perfumey stink off my hands.)

While we're on the subject of my cartoon boyfriend - someone told me he was gay. They said that about Bert and Ernie too.
I find this hilarious.

First - Are you kidding?
Second - My cartoon BF is not gay!

Cat Fancy

2011-09-03T21:15:00.001-04:00

The decorator

I don't know what it is about this picture, but Finn cannot stand for it to be straight.

Some of his work

The Ninja of Sadness

2011-09-03T17:02:00.001-04:00

According to Wikipedia:
A ninja or shinobi was a covert agent or mercenary of feudal Japan specializing in unorthodox arts of war. The functions of the ninja included espionage, sabotage, infiltration, and assassination, as well as open combat in certain situations.^[1]

There I was in Kohl's with my 15% off coupon, slinking around in the Petite section, (obviously not for me). when the ninja snuck out from behind a stack of Croft and Barrow shirts and kicked the shit out of me.

I mean, one minute I was fine and the next - I was tearing up over a Cathy Daniels sweater - because it was something she would have worn before. Now it's elastic waist pants (zippers and buttons are too hard) and over your head shirts.

What's on the Nightstand for Reading

2011-08-30T17:19:00.001-04:00

This for book club:

I've started it. It's funny and weird, like us Southerners.

And this:

Someone, (sorry - forgotten who), told me about this book. I wish it had been out three years ago (and I would have had the good sense to read it).

So far it's been her journey with her mother, but crammed in there are all kinds of things I didn't know I didn't know back then.

Like "assisted living" is for a population that doesn't exist. Looking ahead to see the big picture. Stay away from the ER if at all possible.
Keep an extra pair of glasses and a phone charger in the car.

When you're in those first few weeks of realization - you feel desperate. Get her somewhere where she'll be taken care of. We fall prey to the marketing ploys of assisted living - which are directed towards us, the children, not the parents. Frankly, Mom probably should have gone from Hillcrest straight into the memory care unit.

If anyone out there is in the beginning of this journey, first, I'm so sorry and second, you might find this book helpful.
There are probably others out there with a different way of explaining things, but so far I'm appreciating that someone else's path looked a little like mine - right down to the denial and the guilt.

Rumba

2011-08-30T11:13:00.000-04:00

Anon CP, Bo, and I watch shows together separately and text back and forth: OMG - Wu! Swegen! pigs! Bullock! Trixie!, etc. We are done with Deadwood (sadly) and moving on to The Wire.

Being as how I miscalculated on the returning of my Netflix stash, (Justified, can't get enough of Timothy Olyphant), last night I was sans movie. I stopped by the library and picked up two.
The thing about [our] library - they put the code type sticker stuff all over the back so you really can't read the description, making choosing a movie a crap shoot.

One I will not even tell you about.

The other was a movie called Rumba and it was utterly charming. The minimal talking and physical comedy is very Jacques Tati-ish, in a slightly darker humoured, (but not mean spirited), way.

Here's a wee clip:

Tonight I have some catching up to do on The Wire.

Fall's A'comin'!

2011-08-29T13:16:00.006-04:00

Anon CP the sun worshiper is not happy about this. I however, am ecstatic! Something for everyone, as she says.

It would appear to go against my many generational Florida nativeness that I would prefer cooler weather, except that I was born in the fall (in NORTHERN Florida) and when I was about three months old, we, (my mother and I, my father had been there since July the previous year), moved to Sitka, Alaska. Alaska was still a territory. (Statehood happened on January 3, 1959.)

This is the house we lived in:

We arrived on one of these:

Float plane

Someone told my mother small babies do not get air sick, so she didn't take a change of clothes for me. Turns out that person was wrong.
She missed her connecting plane in Chicago, (she may have been trying to make me presentable), but a kind porter helped her get on the next flight. I cannot imagine her flying from Florida to Alaska by herself with a three month old baby. The only other time she'd been out of the state was to go to Tennessee.

My father was on the CGC (Coast Guard Cutter) Sorrel, which meant he was out to sea often. My mother was so bored, (okay, that's my take), she ironed dishtowels, bed linens, and...my diapers.

Anyway, that's why I like colder weather better. It's what I knew first.

Here's more Sitka pictures, taken by my mother.

Things My Mother Told Me - Part II

2011-08-28T19:34:00.000-04:00

My anam cara's mother said burnt toast made for a better singing voice. That one might be Norwegian. :)

She also reminded me of the clean underwear one (in case you're in an accident - as if that's the only good reason).

Anon CP had why buy cow/ free milk.

How could I have forgotten either of those!?

If dinner was late, my mom always reassured us by telling us rich people ate late.

When the sun shone while it was raining - the devil was beating his wife.
I cannot tell you how many hours I pondered over this saying. (If the devil was in hell, what was his wife doing in heaven? What was HE doing in heaven beating her? What the heck was God doing - watching TV in the other room?!)

If her nose itched - someone was coming with a hole in their britches.
If her palm itched - money was coming.

If you walked around one side of an object and she walked around the other, (and she went out of her way to make sure that didn't happen), you both had to say something that went together - like ham and eggs, bread and butter. I don't know what that one was about, one of my grandfather's probably.

Did boys get all these homilies or is this a girls only club?

How about you? What did your mother tell you?

***********************************************************

In reference to the 5.9 earthquake on Tuesday, this is going around:

My Kentucky friend said a 5.9 just stirs their coffee in California. (Being from Cantuckee, he's an honest Southern gentleman and told me he stole that.)

Post Irene

2011-08-28T11:09:00.000-04:00

The Outer Banks got smacked pretty hard and people died. The other folks in her path that aren't quite as used to hurricanes are having a tough time.

We were lucky, minimal damage here in the Piedmont. In fact, yesterday we had a birthday party sitting outside Foster's Market, just like any other Saturday. Save for gusty winds and dark clouds scuttling past at a high rate of speed, you'd not have known there was anything going on.

The down side is we had very little rain from Irene. The catch-22 with this area is no hurricane = drought; we get most of our rainfall from hurricanes.

Today the sky is a beautiful Carolina blue.

May Irene live up to her name (derived from the Greek word εἰρήνη (eiréné) meaning "peace") and not her hype the rest of the way up the coast.

Things My Mother Told Me

2011-08-27T23:53:00.000-04:00

You know what? I got very little.

Anon CP has great Things-My-Mother-Told-Me stories. Real southern lady things - like how to handle yourself on those tricky subjects of age and men.

Now that's not to say my mother didn't tell me how to act - I just didn't pay attention.

Here's what I do remember:
Never wear white before Easter or after Labor Day. Never mind why. No-one knows. It is THE RULE.

Ladies didn't swear. (anyone who's around me for about three seconds knows that went right over my head).

Never return a dish empty. Even though this doesn't always happen, I always think about it when I don't.

Always tell people to come back anytime - even when you're praying to sweet baby Jesus they never darken your door again.

If you can't say anything nice - don't say anything at all.

On my self esteem:
When some stupid boy told me my eyes bugged out, she told me I had bedroom eyes - like Elvis Presley.
Ha ha stupid boy!

My legs were a harder sell.
I have large calves. Knee socks and boots were out of the question. (Knee socks only came to half calf, boots needed an elastic gore the size of Texas). I didn't go to my eighth grade graduation because it meant wearing a dress, on stage, with my ham sized calves on full display to accept an award.
My mother valiantly tried to save the day by telling me they were "athletic looking". And believe me...she did some searching for the word "athletic".
(My brother inherited my mother's thin legs, while my sister and I got the Scottish peasant legs. Proof positive life is not fair.)

On comforting:
During thunderstorms in Miami, she would sit in the bathroom with all three of us with the lights off and write our names in the air with her lit cigarette. (In retrospect, this seems more along the lines of a bad idea/child abuse.)

On boys:
She didn't like me hanging around certain friends because they were "boy crazy". Confession: I am still unclear what that means and how them being that way impacted me. Good thing I didn't have girl children.

Wish I had known she wasn't going to be around to remind me of my faux pas later on. I'd have paid more attention.

Know What I've Done All Day?

2011-08-26T21:22:00.000-04:00

Mostly nothing, 'cause I'm on PTO time. Read just about every one of my old blog posts and took a shower.

Thinking about going to Kohl's - have coupon, will shop.

No Irene symptoms yet.

Doing what I call the "meat" diet. Basically Atkins. No bread, pasta, starch, sugar (mostly no sugar); I'm the one with the shopping cart full of cheese, bacon, full fat whipped cream - and sugar free Jell-o.
The plus side - no headaches in the AM and fitting into pants I haven't fit into in a while.
The minus side - I'm cranky (more so than usual) and tired. It's-3PM-get-out-of-my-way-I-need-a-nap tired.

***************************************************

Went to Kohl's with my 20% off coupon in hand, found some things for Mom and a couple for me.
When I came out of the store at 8:00 PM, this was the sky to the left:

Then I cheated on my hairdresser. Because standing in the dressing room at Kohl's, the thing happened.

The thing being I looked in the mirror and there, before me, was...

(cue Psycho music)...

my grandmother.

Yeah.
I had been letting my hair grow out a bit, but when it gets to a certain point, the thing happens and I HAVE to cut it - STAT. So I ran over to Great Clips. I KNOW. Cheating on JP with Great Clips.

When my cheatin' heart finished with the tawdry chore, the first bit of rain from Irene was falling; lasted about five minutes.
More to come probably.

A Couple of New Blogs

2011-08-26T11:38:00.000-04:00

If you look to the left at My Blog List, in addition to the tried and true, there are a couple of newbies.

Wonder in Aliceland - I found this just last night at Anon CP's blog, Land of Cotton, by clicking "Random Blog" on the top header. She is a twenty-something English girl who is recovering from a brain tumor. She is a lovely writer and a talented painter as well.

Thoughts From Thicket House - From Debra's blog list.

There's several new food oriented blogs:

Gourmet Kitchen - This is my dear friend Roy, who I've known for close to thirty years. Roy, in addition to being a wonderful chef, is also an amazing painter and photographer. Our sons have the same name and same birthday (month/day) - how cool is that?!

Gluten Free Girl and The Chef - Discovered by Googling for the kale chip recipe.

Biscuits and Such - This is the step-daughter of a former colleague; as well as being a passionate chef, she is also an excellent photographer.

Two that aren't linked, but I like:

A Moon Worn As If It Were A Shell - Don't remember how I got here.

Burning Down The House - Same as above.

There's a lot of great writers out there. And isn't it astonishing how people just crack open their lives for us anonymous readers? And how sometimes we become friends?

*************************************************************

Fair Verona - Dan Mangan
Turn the bars into cars
And wait for the lights to change
And take shape of people we used to know
'Til they grow less fond of knowing

And we can ride in the night
And discard all the facts on our backs
Remembering the thoughts we thought
Since we got over our parents

And if we go where we go
And don't tell anyone where we're from
We can cut and paste the stars to our hearts
And understand their language

And we won't spit with our mouths
Or draw lines in the dirt with our heels
And every single day we'll just wait
And hope to see the next one

If we go down too easy my dear
We'll still be the heart of envy of all our friends and peers

So I get home to my home
The thoughts are in my head
And my bed is full of things I left
When I left her here

And the light through the blinds
And through the windowpane in the lane
Where the fire is getting cold
For they have burned all of their belongings

And up the stairs there's a pair
Who like to be made sure
That they were everything they are
For they are sadly mistaken

Now I forget how we met
Those days have all passed
Now the cast is filing to the stage
In a rage and taking their places

If we go down too easy my dear
We'll still be the heart of envy of all our peers and friends my dear
To them we'll be has-beens
To them be throwaways
To them be lost trains
Just posers posing

We'll leave with our eyes
And wave our goodbyes
And if that's what it takes
We'll both drink the Kool-Aid again

'Til we've forgotten where our hearts have been
'Til we've forgotten where our hearts have been
'Til we forget just where our hearts have been

PTO

2011-08-25T20:48:00.004-04:00

PTO = paid time off. Taking most of my ten days from OJ (old job - no, wait, New Job, almost Old Job).

Today, several of us went to the NC Museum of Art to catch the 30 Americans exhibit before it exits (stage right) on September 4.

Here are a few of my favorites:

Kehinde Wiley

Iona Rozeal Brown

Hank Willis Thomas

Afterward we wandered over to the new building for lunch at Iris. These flowers were on the table:

Our waiter K*^e, who spent most of our time together acting like he was in a zombie movie, got a little (key word) animated when he asked us if we knew what they were called. We did not.

"Billy Balls", he informed us.

Score one for zombie K*^e! (The real name is Craspedia.)

While we are on the subject of host/wait staff, one of the aforementioned had the Amish beard-only thing going on.

I don't get it and as a Libra, the distinctly unbalanced look disturbs me.

Gah - do both or nothing! When this person came over to ask if everything was okay - we all starred in horror at his empty upper lip.

Or maybe that was just me.

I mean, a 'stache sans beard is fine, but a beard alone is a thing to be shorn.

AND - another male facial hair thing I don't get - the semi-beard, or what I call the George Michael look.

Again, no halfway with me - grow the beard (and the mustache) already or shave. It takes just as long to manicure that stubble, maybe longer. Do women like this?!

And don't EVEN get me started on the soul patch. Good lord.

ANYWAY...from there we drifted to on-line dating and the hilarity of profile surfing, as one will.

Here's one: if you [a woman] are "sassy mouthed and hard-headed - move on."

You know what - I AM sassy mouthed, hard headed, and proud of it. And you sir, probably have an Amish beard.

Kudzu

2011-08-22T20:02:00.000-04:00

This is kudzu:

Photo: James H. Miller, USDA, Forest Service

I imagine this is what it looks like inside my mother's demented brain - rapidly being overgrown.

We hung out some today, after I got a couple of estimates on getting my car fixed ($1800 & $1400).
She wanted to go outside in the courtyard; it was hot and we didn't stay long, instead we went to her room and watched some TV.
Dog the Bounty Hunter, Mom made funny comments about Beth's rather substantial cleavage and Dog's hair.
"She has a lot of them."
More in that vein.

I had to fill in most of the blanks. Lots of nonsense words and gibberish today, repeats and uncompleted thoughts.

Then we watched a little Bonanza. She got excited about seeing horses, but couldn't remember what they were called.

We (okay, I) flipped to TCM, a movie with Joan Crawford was on. Mom seemed bored, so we looked at an old photo album from Juneau.
"That's not me!" She pointed to a picture of my sister.
Cor-rect.
But then she was more concerned with the pages coming out of the album than looking at the pictures.
And she wanted to go out and roam the halls with the rest of her pack.

Know What Else I Hate?

2011-08-21T17:06:00.000-04:00

Coming back to my car today after a lovely brunch at Weaver Street Market to find this:

Best of all - surprise! no note. Man, am I pissed - for all the good it does. Arrgggghhhh.

It would be impossible to not know you did this - there's pieces of your light there, you eejit.
There's a bit of karma (ha) - you have to get something fixed too.

Here's hoping most of it will come off with a Mister Clean Magic Eraser. I'll have to break out the touch up paint; it won't fix the dings and slight dent, but I can't afford my $500 deducible right now.

This is the second time in two years this has happened to me in a parking lot. The other time was at the Q-Shack, but it was much worse. Involved a rental car and about a week at the body shop. No note then either.
I haven't been back to Q-Shack since.

*****************************************
To take my mind off the infuriatingly stupid people out there who screw up other people's cars with apparently no thought, I offer you this: an "Epic Rap Battle of History" between William Shakespeare and Dr. Seuss.
I found it hilarious.

Long Ways

2011-08-19T21:12:00.001-04:00

The video on my last post reminded me of Long Way Round and Long Way Down.
I've mentioned them before; just finished watching them again for the second time and they were just as enjoyable. I'm kinda sad when they're over.

Long Way Round is first:

Then Long Way Down:

Even if you don't know who Ewan McGregor is, (actually these made me a fan), and don't ride motorcycles, give these a try, I think you'll enjoy them.

Note: Being English and Scottish boys, they do a bit of garden variety swearing, (in fact, you won't even notice if you watched Deadwood).

If you just fell off your massively heavy BMW bike for the twentieth time in the space of five minutes in the sand of some Mongolian "road", I'm betting you'd swear too.

Know What I Hate?

2011-08-19T17:37:00.000-04:00

I mean, besides shopping carts left in a parking space when the cart return is two inches away.

And cars without the turn signal upgrade - wait...what? What's that you say?!
ALL cars come equipped with turn signals standard?! It's not extra?!
You mean people JUST DON"T USE THEM?! Well, now I'm really pissed off.

Okay, enough sarcasm - for now.

Sooooo, I get this mailer from My Cable Company regarding my blazing (cough, cough) fast interwebz.

On the outside it says, "We Appreciate Your Business".
I open it, thinking it's going to tell me they're reducing my rate or giving me a month for free or something - because they appreciate me!
Yes, I am that naive sometimes, in spite of how it ~~appears~~ sounds.

No, instead it tells me they're jacking up my rate by $11 a month, but that I'm still getting such a great deal that I will enjoy paying that extra $132 this coming year. Oh, AND because they are so wonderful - I don't have to do anything - the change will happen automatically.

YOU'RE WELCOME Treasured and Appreciated Customer
Signed,
Your Cable Company [who has you by the short hairs and knows it]

As Wu [Deadwood]would say, "c0$6s^85er".

**********************************

What else? Mom got a collection notice from the phone company for $162.10 - it's been almost two years since she's had a phone company. Now I need to do research, it seems random.
What are they going to do if it isn't paid - shut off her phone? HA!

**********************************
Things I don't hate: this song. (This is not "official" video, but I like it.)

Especially Me by Low

Cry me a river
So I can float over to you
The bearer to deliver the news
I'm over the moon
And underfoot
All these elixirs would be moot

'Cause if we knew where we belong
There'd be no doubt where we're from
But as it stands, we don't have a clue
Especially me and probably you

You've fallen in a slumber
Just wake one more time
To miss or put asunder
Would be a crime
Some songs feel like butter
Some songs sound like cake
This little number is for your sake
'Cause if we knew where we belong
There'd be no doubt where we're from
But as it stands, we don't have a clue
Especially me and probably you

'Cause if we knew where we belong
There'd be no doubt where we're from
But as it stands, we all need the truth
Especially me and probably you
Definitely you

Some Semi-Big News

2011-08-14T13:37:00.000-04:00

I'm going back to my old company.

I know, right?

We had parted amicably after eleven and a half years. People would ask if there was any possibility of going back and I would say no, it's done, next chapter please. (Readers, I am a closer - let's move along.)

So there I sat on July 28 at New Job (NJ) minding my own business, doing some spreadsheet or other, when I received a text from Old Job (OJ) asking if I would consider coming back.

Hmmmm, I thought.
I thought and I thought and I thought:

Am I a loser for only sticking it out here for seven months? (no)
Is this like going back to a boyfriend after the relationship ends? (no)
Am I going back to what's comfortable? (yes, and what's wrong with that?)
What about job security? (no guarantees anywhere)

Then I consulted with several trusted advisers (Anon CP, Pam, and Fawn for three) and I thought some more.

And decided to go back. Even though it's the same amount I make now (less than I made there before) and a different job than I did before.

Debra's postings over at As I See It Now have lately been about learning about yourself.
I have discovered a few things about myself in these past seven months.

What are those things you may ask. (then again, you may not)

There is a difference between an administrative assistant and an office manager. In this company, being an administrative assistant involves HR stuff that I am not fond of doing. Like having to ask someone for proof that their day old baby died so they can get bereavement leave. Sorry, just hate that. (granted, it doesn't happen everyday, but once is enough, ya know?)

Corporate life = Hello, welcome. Here's your box, please stay in it. If you would like to leave your box, you must first request permission from these twenty-seven people and have the form XYZ12345678-b Revision 207 filled out by your supervisor(s).
I'm exaggerating a bit, actually everyone is very nice, but there are forms and people to ask about EVERYTHING.

Oh the drama that happens with a bigger staff. I HATE IT. It upsets my Libra peace-love-and-tie-dye sensibilities. Really, can't we all just do our jobs and get along?

I felt myself give a little sigh of relief when I decided.

So there you have it.

Black Cat Appreciation Day

2011-08-07T10:14:00.000-04:00

Facebook (or someone on Facebook) is having a Black Cat Appreciation Day on August 17.
Lillie will be in virtual attendance.

Did you know that black cats (and dogs) are the last to be adopted at the animal shelter?

I have seen people actually step back from a cage containing a black cat; my own very superstitious Irish grandfather would turn around and go home if he saw one.
When volunteering at the Durham shelter, I would make sure the black cats had light colored bedding so they would stand out (often they would be on the bottom row of cages, making them extra hard to be seen, which was perhaps a coincidence.)

My little black cat LOVES to be brushed - which is good because she is a hair manufacturing machine.
She knows the word "brushing" and will run to the ottoman:

Assuming the position

Tummy brushing position

I 'll give you thirty minutes to stop

Sleek and silky

I love this song because the accordion reminds me of Amelie, which is the happiest movie I know.

Windows of the Soul

2011-08-02T18:58:00.000-04:00

Yearly eye exam today.
Thank goodness my prescription hadn't changed or those new glasses I got last month would have been for naught. (Don't you love the word naught? I do but I know naught why.)

Then I went to drop off that pesky modem of Mom's at the Time Warner location given to me by Chrystal with a silent "H".

Even with my eyes dilated I couldn't find this place. Google Maps said it would be after this street, right before this street. The only thing there was trees and a sidewalk. Oh Google, Google, why hast thou forsaken me?!

Finally after a lovely trip down Burning somethingorother Drive, I thought, "Ah-HA! I'll bet Google Maps is WRONG." (Although it pained me to think such a thing.)
Sure enough, in a tiny strip mall - waaaaaay after the street it wasn't supposed to be after, was the TW location.
You know what - they knew the map was wrong in there. And if I had been able to call them directly, they could have told me that.

But never mind that now. The modem is returned, my eyes are back to normal, Chipotle was had for dinner (right by the eye doc) and Deadwood is queued in the DVD player. All's right with the world.

Please enjoy Tiger Darrow's Mr. Gingerbread.

Hello Monkey Face

2011-07-29T21:42:00.002-04:00

GUESS WHAT I DID?
Yes, I went to visit my mother.

First though, I got off my a$$ and called the cable company today to remove the phone and lower the channels on her subscription.

After yelling at the automated lady on the phone to get me a freaking REAL person, I still had to press five more buttons, listen to Time-Warner tell me how Tom Terrific they are for ten minutes, and then TELL THE REAL PERSON EVERYTHING I ALREADY TOLD THE AUTOMATED PERSON...

We commence:

- Hi my name is Chrystal (silent 'H", she told me later), how can I help you?
Me: I need to remove the phone and change the channel subscription on this account.
- Phone number and address on the account?
Me: (oh I got this one - wrote the phone number on the bill, clever little me) blah blah blah
- Last four of her social?
Me: (CRAP! oh wait...I have that tattooed on my inner right thigh) blah
- She's saving $20 a month, she's getting a good deal
Me: (How in the world is $108 a month a GOOD DEAL?!) Really? Well that's great, but she no longer knows how to use the phone.
- I understand
Me: (no, you fu@king don't) She has dementia, she can't dial and doesn't know to answer it if it rings.
- I understand.
Me: (OMG)
- Does she have another phone for emergencies, like a cell phone?
Me: [voice raising an octave] She lives in a facility, they have all the emergency phones she'll ever need in there.
- I understand
Me: (blood pressure goes up a couple of points)
- Her name is unusual (says Chrystal with the silent "H"), is that a nickname?
Me: It's a [very common] nickname for ______________ (Mom spelled it with a zi instead of the normal sy)
- Now kids are named Apple and...(at this point I just drift off)...so without the phone it would be $69.62 (I snap back to the conversation) and just the local channels would be $21.19.
Me: Ding ding ding - we have a winner!
- You need to return the modem within three business days or they will charge you for it. Would you like the address of the nearest equipment drop off location?
Me: (no, why would I want that?!) Yes, thank you very much.
(We then have to determine that I am not in Columbia SC)
- Here's the phone number for that location.
Me: Great! Thanks Chrystal with a silent "H". (It will turn out that when the number given above is called - it routes you right back to the main 800, making it impossible for the very nice man in Morrisville to give me a landmark for a location in Chapel Hill.)

I agree to do the survey and give her all 5's (the best).

Then I MAKE MYSELF go to CB to get the modem.

We watch Say Yes to The Dress (Atlanta) and HGTV in her room while we play with dolls.

After telling this baby it looked like a monkey, (making me guffaw), she decided its name might be Baby. (Bunky was the other tiny baby that she really doesn't like)
She said we were "dumb and some".
I see a Jim Carrey movie in there somewhere.

The 27 Club

2011-07-24T18:59:00.002-04:00

Do you know what the 27 Club is?
It's musicians who have died at the age of 27. Kurt Cobian, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin...there's more, but those are the ones that roll off the top of my head.
Amy Winehouse has joined that club and it pisses me off. I am really mad at her.

Sometimes we have an interest in people we don't know and what happens to them affect us for reasons not explainable to us. Amy was one of those people for me.

As you know, I am an avid reader of The Daily Mail Online, a totally trashy UK tabloid. I'm not proud of it, but I love that site and visit it daily (it IS the Daily Mail after all). There were often articles on Amy and from my seat in the Durham on the other side of the pond, I encouraged her to get rid of that POS husband, get cleaned up and start making music again. It seemed like she was making a go of it for awhile. She had a new boyfriend, put on weight, and was looking healthy.

Now she's dead. The newest member of The 27 Club.

The Pendulum Swings

2011-07-23T12:44:00.001-04:00

As an antidote to the previous downer post - here's the other side of my brain.

I've been watching True Blood juxtaposed with Deadwood. A weird combo - vampires and whores.
Anyway, I am completely infatuated with Eric Northman, a 1000 year old Viking vampire. I don't even like blondes or really tall guys, but he is the rule's exception. He's played by Alexander Skarsgård, son of actor Stellen Skarsgård.
Here's a little montage for you. (safe for non-vampire likers)
Enjoy.

Bittersweet

2011-07-23T11:35:00.000-04:00

Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It has been twenty-two days since I've seen my mother.
Is there absolution for that?

WHY is it so hard to go over there?
Don't answer that, I know why.

The real question is:
WHY am I such a fecking baby about it?

My head is full of everything and nothing, deep thoughts that swim away as soon as I open a New Post, restless and guilty, and nestling up to the dull knife blade of melancholia.
Still I don't go.

I think back twenty years ago, when she was my age. What was she doing? Retired, back in her ancestral homeland of Florida, going to plays with Etta Mae, being the treasurer of TOPS, kids all raised, a few grandchildren, husband not totally sick yet. My grandmother was of sound, if cranky, mind and living independently.

Then I beat myself up a bit for not selling her house sooner. For not dropping the price sooner, for losing all that money. For not having the hindsight to see this was happening before it was too far gone. For not seeing the behavioral changes for what they were.

I KNOW. Stop.
This solves nothing, serves no purpose. Yet I do it anyway.
Sigh.

"...we don't tell each other all the little things that we need; we work our way around each other as we tremble and we bleed..."

Fried Corn - Start to Finish

2011-07-17T09:57:00.000-04:00

CSA Silver Queen corn

Google "fried corn" and you'll find a lot of recipes out there that add sugar, water, and whatnot. Really not necessary.

I make it the way my mother made it (the way your mother makes it is, as everyone knows, the right way), except I substitute olive oil for bacon grease. (she used vegetable oil in the later years)

The one rule - it HAS to be done in a cast iron skillet.

Shucked and clean

Thirteen ears of corn - off the cob

Here's the recipe: corn, salt, pepper and some kind of fat. I can't tell you how long to saute the corn, you just know when it's done.

I put a lot of pepper in mine because, well, I like pepper.

When you pull this out of the freezer in winter - it's like a summer miracle.
I could eat this all day and all night. It was one of the foods I asked for when I came to visit.

Great-grandmother's cast iron skillet

The finished product - ready for the freezer

Smarter Than the Average Bear

2011-07-15T19:41:00.002-04:00

Yeah, you are - all ya'll are.
I'm sure you've noticed I am NOT sticking to my Mom visitation schedule. Gah. Nothing like showing my flaws to thirty five people over the interwebz. Well, so what. I'm imperfect - now you know.

I'm going to distract you with a photo:

Is that photo blurry or is it the Gruner Veltliner?

Here's another:

The fan is going (even though it doesn't look like it) and that girl is enjoying the breeze.

It's been HOT and HUMID - for example - two days ago it was 79 degrees at 8:00 AM and we topped out in the triple digits.
Today it was in the 80's. Lovely. 65 at 7:30 AM. Nice huh?

My niece, who lives in Juneau, Alaska, has been complaining about how hot it's been up there. Their idea of hot is 70. Oh hush now.

My friend Steffi is in Portugal for a week, then off to Cannes to meet our mutual friend Barbara, then they are both heading to Italy. Steffi comes back and Barbara stays in Italy for a few months.
Jealous.
Officially.

Speaking of travel, I'm reading The Cruelest Journey by Kira Salak. She retraces the journey of Scottish explorer Mungo Park down the Niger river to Timbuktu. Except she does it solo - in a kayak. It's the kind of book my dad would have enjoyed.

Taking a hiatus from Deadwood. Because there's a short wait for Season 1 Disc 3.
Huh? Do I have so much influence that everyone is jumping on NetFlix to rent the DVD's? I think not.
So WTF NetFlix?
Burn Notice is in the queue now, then True Blood.

One day soon, I am going to write something interesting. Really.

In the meantime - I'm going to need the broomstick of the witch, okay? (Pay no attention...)

Completely Random Sunday Stuff

2011-07-10T12:03:00.000-04:00

First, this Wikihow: http://www.wikihow.com/Keep-Deer-Out-of-Your-Yard
Scroll down to the video; it's hilarious and the ~~guy~~ deer is really cute.

CSA yesterday:

No eggs, hot Italian sausage was substituted [insert your own off color joke here].
Figured out to use the Foliage setting, it softens the light; up until last week I didn't know there was such a thing as a Foliage setting on the darn camera.

No worries food photographers of the world - I'm keeping my day job.

I need to address Deadwood stat.
As much as Anon CP, Bo, N., and I like it - it is not for everyone.
It's very realistic. There's mud, blood, whores, killing and dying from various means, flesh eating pigs afterward, and sex (where there's whores, there's sex). There's A LOT of swearing and we're not talking the garden variety hell, damn and occasional F-bomb type swearing either.

SO...those of you who feel compelled to watch Deadwood because of my recommendation - consider yourself forewarned. (and please don't judge me. If there was a time machine I would pick that time period, actually the early 1800's, and be a mountain man. Just as long as I could travel back before I was eaten by a grizzly or got my leg caught in a trap.)

I can't say why I like Deadwood so much. Maybe it's the whores (or as Anon CP would say, wh*res).
Have I ever told you about my fascination with harlots, slatterns, trollops and the like?
No?
Well then...
Remember once upon a time I talked about "blood memories"? I did, but I'm too darn lazy to find the link.
Blood memories are a Native American version of deju vu - except you weren't someone else, someone in your direct lineage has been there, done that and the memory of it has been passed down in your DNA.
Makes sense to me and explains why I feel so tied to Northern Ireland (and Scotland. why bagpipes give me goosebumps every time I hear them); that's my gg grandparents came from - I have a blood memory of it.

Now the hooker part - I do not want to be one (let's make that clear), but I love books, shows, etc. about them, especially those set in England in the 18th and 19th century. I can name three books right now that I have read several times - The Dress Lodger (own it), Slammerkin, and The Crimson Petal and The White. Perhaps an ancestor (ancestress?) was one and I have a blood memory of it.
Just saying...

Anyway, what else?
Oh, can someone explain to me why I can't back up a 1 GB computer on to a 4 GB flash drive?!
Tells me there is not enough space. I'm no math whiz, but how is that not possible?

Finally, a 24 second video of Finn grazing on fresh kitty crack (a.k.a. Nature's Choice grain free Green Pea and Chicken cat fud (Gary Larson reference)).
Oh to click or not to click, huh?

Monsoon

2011-07-08T20:00:00.002-04:00

For the past few days in the afternoon the sky has opened up and drenched us with an inch or two of rain in about an hour.

Here's the view from my car around 2 PM today in the Sam's Club parking lot:

University Ave. was flooded in front of Kmart and a couple of cars were stalled in the small lake that appeared. I was able to turn around in time and go back from whence I came.

Crazy.

Behind Sam's Club

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Okay, what you are about to see is a ONCE A YEAR meal. Or needs to be (heh).

That my friends, is the Breakfast Burger from Only Burger (say it with me - Best Meat on The Street!).
There's a fried egg, fried green tomato and pimento cheese cloaking the burger.
I prefer the Carolina (chili and coleslaw).

Now I'm off to watch Deadwood again (LOVE that show. Love love love love it. No, really, I mean it. I love that m*$%&^#@*ing show)

Oh, discovered another great show by the writers of The Wire and Homicide (both also much loved by me) called Treme. Set in New Orleans three months after Katrina. Terrific music plus character actor heaven.

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Oh wait (sorry people who get this blog in an email - do you get an email every time I edit something? Gack.).

(Oh, if you DO want to get this as an email tell me. there's a lottery - only 10 people (boo hiss Blogger) can be so designated. And if you are on the list and DON'T want to get it - please let me know and I will swipe your email off that list so fast your head will spin. But you won't know why. Unless you remember this.)

So as I was saying - Oh wait...I forgot to tell you about the amazing tattoo I'm supposed to get of a raven on my right shoulder. I saw it in a dream a few mornings ago; the tattoo was so fantastic - like an Audubon illustration - and then it ruffled its feathers and croaked at me.

And it was time to get up.

I can't stop thinking about it.

Okay, you can go now.

At Last

2011-07-07T20:32:00.002-04:00

Today is my anam cara's wedding day. You know that saying "friends are the family we choose ourselves"? She is that to me. For close to twenty years we have laughed and cried and hoped and dreamed about everything - not just weddings.

So my dear dear anam cara, this song's for you - and your beloved...

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photo by Fawn

Summertime

2011-07-04T17:04:00.000-04:00

If it wasn't for the heat and the humidity, I'd like summer just fine.
A couple of weeks ago we had two days in a row of low eighties with no humidity. They were just about as perfect as perfect can be.

Here's what I do like about summer:

Tomato sandwiches with too much mayonnaise and salt
Fresh (not from the grocery store) picked corn on the cob with too much sweet butter and salt
The sound of cicadas
Fireflies
Popsicles

Picture Show

2011-07-02T22:01:00.002-04:00

Oh, the CSA stuff today...lovely.
Blackberries, tomatoes, eggs, cukes, rainbow chard, red onion.

After dropping this beauty off at home, I went to the movies by myself - the first time in quite awhile.
I love going to the movies by myself. I have friends who never have, they don't get the appeal.

I've also had people ask me, "Do you really? Or are you just saying that because no-one will go with you?", with a look on their face that is usually reserved for a "bless your heart" (meaning you poor pitiful thing you).

The answer is YES.

Going to a matinee feels like sneaking off while everyone else is grocery shopping or getting their oil changed. Risque, a little naughty. Of course there's the allure of getting in a tiny bit cheaper.

The price one pays for paying less is there are a lot of older folks at the earlier shows.
Who talk loudly - well into the previews and sometimes the show itself.
"So you think I could get both legs done for $90?" (what in the world?!).
Then there's the coughing, the noises getting up and down (oops...I sing in that choir), and the where-do-you-want-to-sit conversations:
"Where do you want to sit?"
"Doesn't matter. Wherever you want."
"Are you sure? How about here?"
"It's fine. Is it okay with you?"
"Sure. Are you sure?"
"Actually, do you mind if we sit a little [closer] [further]?'
"Well I don't mind, I just didn't want to sit in front of those people."

Just don't sit by me.

I went to see Midnight in Paris. It was charming, mostly because Paris is a character in the movie. If you never wanted to go to Paris before, you will after the movie. They show only her good side.

I might still be a bit tender from yesterday (and the day before at work - fie on work relationships, seriously.), because the two trailers - Beginners and Buck made me cry and my popcorn got all wet.

The nice thing about going to the movies by yourself - you don't have to 'splain that shit to nobody.

Another song I heard yesterday that I liked a lot...