Wheelie!

I received the notice that my wheelchair is ready to be picked up!  We went right away, and got it.  Brand new and a good fit to go through any enlarged doorway.  It even fits in the trunk of the Lexus.  So many times the places that we go to have 2 chairs, and they are gone.  I usually go back to the car and wait for C.  Now I have the chair, clean, intact, and can be gone however long I need.  Test drive soon!  Update:  this wheelchair is the wrong one, apparently, and they came to the house yesterday and switched the original for this heavier one. It is still in the trunk of the car.

I got my room straightened up my room as well as I can, and found 2 pairs of silk slacks, and 1 silk shirt.  I have to shorten the 2 slacks, why are they so long?  I would need to be 6 or more inches taller.  I took a pair of slacks to the cleaners several years ago with instructions to shorten, and the business was shut down when I went to get them.  My luck!  Anyway I will do these myself, once I get my sewing machine out.  All of them are unworn, and if I was 6 and a half feet tall, I'd be good to go.  One of the slacks is broad enough to wear to therapy where I need them to uncover my knee, once I need to do exercises.  

  I think I found the reason my Parker ball point would not write is because the filler, while unused, has thickened and is not feeding into the tip.  The same problem with the fountain pen, the ink is too thickened and the ink, even with a new cartridge, won't flow.  I bought one refill for the fountain pen and it works great now.  I will see if the pen will need a new cartridge every time I try to write.

I know this post is deadly dull, I mean who cares about stitching or pens?  But I will offer this next bit, maybe a better success.  

When I was a child, I never questioned why my sister needed a tutor and never went to regular school.  I didn't mind because I got some early schooling too.  I now think the tutor stayed because of me, I was way ahead in the workbooks she gave me, even though my sister was 4 years older than me  When I took over my parents' check book all the bills got paid and there was no "helping out" my sister.  I did her checkbook too, and she cleared much more money than my parents.  I went over and over that she needed to write down the checks that she wrote, and when I tried to balance her checkbook it was hopeless.  For one thing she wrote (she tried to write) with a used eyebrow pencil, (no matter how many pens I left for her, and I believe that she couldn't read or write).  She seemed to believe, really believe  that if she still had checks, she still had money.  Until the overdue accounts started arriving, that is where my parents came in.  They carried $37,000 in credit card debt, and I could have screamed when I realized they nearly lost their house because of my sister.  What was brought out is that she had nothing to show for all the money/checks.  Unless it was gambling, drugs, liquor, "debt" that was the kind she would have made, and so on.  Nothing to explain purchases every month.  

I should mention that she died in 2003, and my folks a couple of years earlier than that, so I am not revealing any family secrets here.

I am so so sorry that my parents couldn't live a good retirement, travel, new furniture and so on, and instead had to think all the time of what they could juggle to pay.  

Not doing well with jovial posts here...

When I was 6 or so, I was in the rest room and trying to comb my hair.  It had quite a snarl in it and I muttered, I'm going to have to cut this thing out.  And back came a classmate with scissors and snip snip, big chunk of hair was gone. I cried loudly and the teacher came in and said, Oh no!  who did this!?!  I meekly said, not me!  A big girl... My mother saw it first thing, and she cussed under her breath.  I had long wavy blonde hair, and now she had to take me to the salon (!!) to try to make something presentable out of what was left.  No more long blonde hair for me!  

A him-or-me-decision

 THIS story is from my friend; I guess this is the ultimatum so many couples face: but probably not just the same when a 10 year old is caught up in the drama. correction...this story was originally in the Reddit forum, Am I the As***?, as near as I can tell. "Somehow only my name showed on the adoption paperwork; OK by me.   I had to work late one night, and when I got home, Adoptee was working on the dishwasher, he looked up at me and had plainly been crying.  When I got a chance that night, I asked him what is the problem and he told me.  My GF had told him if he didn't change his ways, be cheerful and help out he could go back to the home, and other BS to him, but I gave him a hug, told him thanks for letting me know.  I went out to my GF and told her that "he" would be staying, but she was not.  I told her to pack a bag and tell me where I should ship the rest.  Does it matter how late it was, or that her folks were crosstown?  No, not to me.  I gave her cab money.  She looked like she had been pole axed.  Over rated in her value, I guess, but I regarded the boy as my brother."  

Adoptees probably feel they have to walk a thin line when conflicts arise, that they are only there at the whim of the adoption adults.  Sad, really.

Anyway I need to follow this with some amusing story.  

When our son was 3 or 4, Dad always drove the kids to the sitter's.  He was often heard using profanity as he drove, and I had been after him to tone it down when the kids were in the car.  One morning a car cut him off, and Dad drew in a breath, then let it out without any comment.  And then from the back seat, we heard this small little voice say, "Stupid bastard"  We cracked up but couldn't let on that we knew what he said.

And that's  it for now.  Enjoy!

 This will be a short post because I am very tired. Or something with similar attributes.  

I have been looking at Med school faculty at WVU and UFL, finding a lot of familiar faces in FL that I knew back in 2004 at WVU.  Some were fine guys, male and female, and some not-so-nice faculty that I suffered being a research tech for them.  I wish there were a way to rate future phD faculty anonymously, it would save a lot of pain when the sh** hits the fan.  I worked for a woman who obviously needed heavy medication to control her manic episodes, which I would guess manic/depressant but who wouldn't take them because they made her inspiration nonexistent, or so she thought.  I don't know if she ever figured out how much time we plebes spent avoiding her when she was in full-flaming ass-chewing mode even though we needed to show her lab results that were not what she expected.  It was really uncomfortable when one of these cycles made her break down in tears, do we just excuse ourselves until the cycles move on?  There was another faculty that set up a collaboration with medical researchers all over the country, big names.  Sh** woman was not invited to join and I was told she burst into tears.  But how to be a functional source of inspiration for young candidates that needed steering when disagreements became sobs?  No way.  I was only reminding myself that however I got here it could have been worse.

I got a new walker (not the kind of horse with long strides) today and I feel much more secure using it than the old one.  Only this morning I averted a near-miss fall to the floor when my right knee buckled on the forward motion.  I am really counting on this new walker, being far less shaky than the old one, to save me from all the near-misses that make my heart pound while I try to walk smoothly.  When I saw the orthopedic doctor last week, he said no to more surgery, and no to drugs (from him) and so while I was on a roll, he agreed to writing a 'script for a walker and a wheelchair.  The wheelchair is because I want to be able to go to stores that only have 2 and they are always gone when I get there.  With my own chair I can go anywhere.  If I am careful.  The home health people said that Medicare would pay for one but not for both  so I opted to buy my walker myself, and let Uncle Sam buy the chair.  I shall see.

When I was a kid I remember my sister being taken to church in an ambulance for Easter service one year.  Our family could never have afforded that, the church paid.  She was grateful, but I bet she would rather they had taken her to a shopping store, talk about  spending.  I remember getting one new outfit for school that I wore on the first day of school.  I also remember a note sent home with me, telling my mom that my skirts were too short (after I had a growth spurt)and Mom fuming at having to buy nearly all new skirts (we never wore slacks in those days).  My aunt sewed me a couple of outfits that were really nice, and those, and the ones I needed for college were it for that year.  The college, BJU, was even more Strict, if you were new they had you kneel and would see if the skirt touched the ground, or maybe the back of the skirt and this was at the time for mini-skirts.  When I finished sophomore  year and married I threw all the skirts, and the dresses that looked like Ms. Dowdy, and I never missed even one.  I have a lot of memories of those days, almost all were bad.  That was Bob Jones University, I played a part until I could get out.  I have never sent them a damn dime since those days, and I am happy to put their fund raising mail in the trash, unopened.  I hope they are having problems with fund-raising; I never knew (until I transferred at Memphis State) that they were unaccredited, and I had to repeat almost all the science and math classes.  Bummer.

It is a beautiful day, cool, a little breeze, sunshine.  I know winter isn't through with us just yet, but this is a little foretaste for spring.  I am inside, of course, while C goes to the dentist, but even from here the lovely sunshine is, well, lovely.  Too bad it won't last. I had a nice nap after breakfast, and I enjoyed every minute of it.  

I have been thinking of BJU the last couple of days and wondering what became of all of us.  Lucky I never got pregnant given that I looped away from the admin office whenever N could get away from USC.  His getting away rested on term papers and working at the gas station and not prison like mine did.  Maybe there were more rebels than I thought.

Well, onwards and upwards, I need to do vital things like getting dressed.  take care... don't know what is wrong with text size

Give me some leeway

 This will be my last attempt at this post, I have been starting it over and over and fighting each step of the way.  I can't seem to correct one error without creating 3 more.  I just took a nap, maybe that will help.

Friday morning I fell in my bedroom, and I have been in what looks like a fist fight, which I clearly lost.  I have two black eyes, a running scrape  from eyebrow to hair line and a lot of bruises.  I fell on my very well padded floor, and I was walking, not running, and I don't see how I should be so beat up now.  Now I am walking very very slowly, and trying to look only downward and not gazing around.  I am wishing for one of those padding suits like you see in the circus.  I am lucky to not have broken any bones with all the tumbling I do.  I called my doctor and she has given me pain meds to take the edge off all the bruises and scrapes.

I saw my new psychiatric doctor via Zoom and it went very well, I think we covered the the same ground as Dr. W.  She laughed at my humorous remarks, a good sign.  My next appt. is in April.  I guess she received the information from Dr. W.  Maybe it will take until April to go through it all.

I woke up  6 am last night when I saw an orange cat in the reflection of the phone.  I know I saw it, but C could not not find it, and I have no ability to drag my walker around calling "kitty kitty".  C  saw the neighbor's dog out running while he was getting the mail, and he said 'is that your dog'  ? and the neighbor said yes, and said the house they had before had a big meadow to chase things.  And then she went in the house and shut the door. The last two dogs that ran loose had their collars left hanging on their front door handles.  Another one was picked up by the dog catcher cost $200 to parole.This is what fences are for.  Maybe he will run away. I hope he doesn't catch the one of the cats --ours are indoor.  

People who think their pets are so cute and will tolerate any lawn toys as dog toys are mistaken.

All the neighborhood with loose animals are nice neighbors, but keep them in their homes or on a leash.

Time for another pain med.  and then for bed.  good evening.

Fall is here

 Well, actually, fall has come and gone, but hey, a little license here for now.

I will have to try to think up something pleasant to post, because today has been hell on wheels so far.

I took a fall last afternoon and now I look like 10 rounds with Muhammad Balboa .  I fell in my bedroom, on the super thick rug, and looks like I have fallen on brick, last night.  I got a bloody nose, 2 black eyes, a nasty scrape on my forehead , and bumps and bruises all over.  Hopefully that will be all the damages from the rest of me.  I want to take a shower, but I will wait until tomorrow, just in case.  The bathroom is the very worst place there is to fall; all sharp edges and unforgiving 

I called my Dr and she gave me a prescription for  pain meds.  Damn I am stiff today.  I canceled today's therapy.  I should be OK by next day.  

wishing you well.

heading for a sweet ; 

I Think there is some intros that cannot be re-done.

Skip this and go to the post above... 

thanks

Jingle bells all the way

I wish it were Christmas now, When the Christmas tree and the all the gifts were right, and the first time seeing all of them, that's what I loved.  I hung a long strap of horse bells on the hall door knob and put the door half open.  Now the kids tell me that they squeezed past the bells, to see the gifts.  They didn't open them or try to do much more then give them a shake because of the bells on the door.  N says he heard them hold the strap and squeeze past.  Giggling, all the way. 

Now of course they don't even want to get presents (they say), so I said each one is to buy just two for the other ones, and thus each have  2 gifts to open.  

We have had a gift of snow, and it is brutally cold, 7 degrees too cold to play in.  And we ran out of propane which pisses me off, I called last week and they said we were ok for now, we were due for a fill in March.  So we have all the electric heaters on in the house, and we are cold.  It is good that we have no horses or dogs to take care of anymore; we have had cold snaps before but this is ridiculous.  And of course we have no furnace as it is propane, as is the stove and thus we cannot cook so  we will go to Outback for dinner.  Hopefully they have propane or whatever and people to keep the grill going.  I am hungry as it is now (5 am.)  Today is R's birthday and C baked her cake in the toaster oven and it is...different.  Hopefully the taste is OK.

I think I will go back to sleep and stop worrying.  Bye for now.

When my friend's daughter decided to bake a cake while mom was at work, she called her mom all in swivet because the cake was all liquid.  Walking her through her recipe from the box cake, she said she used 3 cups of milk because she liked it moist, and the recipe said  2/3 cups of milk so she used 3 cups.  Makes sense, right?  Her mom said throw it out, there is no way to fix it, and she would bring home another and they would do it together.  I don't know how many "bakers" made the same mistake, thus selling 2 boxes of mix and not just one.  When I was a kid I made two layer cakes, every one did back then, and the top layer had a tendency to siillllde when transported.  I just tipped the platter to the other side and slid it back, a little icing to tidy the sides and good as gold.  The only time you see a layer cake now is on the outside of the box.  Easier, I  guess.

 I fell yesterday, walking  three steps between this chair and the bed.  Three steps!! nearly took the craft table with me, and so today I feel like I've been rode hard and put up wet.  I don't know why I fell, but for now I will walk with itsy bitsy steps.  I think I have now fallen in every possible place in this room.  Maybe I should strap pillows all around me, especially around my knees...  I don't think I will ever get to use a cane at this rate.  When I asked the therapist how long does he think I need to go with the walker, he said until I stop falling.  I am going to get a new walker, this one is wobbly in the side-to-side motion.  Maybe that will help.

Bye!

Nearly Tax Time

Now can we please move along to important things (COVID, highways and potholes, protecting Roe v Wade, education for all children, affordable college repayment and credit card debt) and on and on?  I don't want to hear the T word or see  a smug man-with-orange-toupee ever again?  Please?

The winter storm has not arrived here, but the photos of Cincinnati and cold weather everywhere in the East makes me anxious.  Will we have enough propane? So glad there are no horses to keep blankets on, water thawed, dogs inside (phew!), all the water lines open to warm air, and so on.  We were all so complacent last year when it was warm all winter, I never pulled my winter coat out, and now the snow, freezing rain, sleet, and cold cold weather is showing us how winter really is.  R is the only one who needs to drive to work and she comes home around 8:30pm over roads that are usually plowed/cindered/salted.  I guess schools are canceled too.  She may be at home for MLK Jr birthday.

I was all set to do taxes yesterday, put TurboTax in the drive, and whoops!  It is not compatible with Win 7.  So this morning is the download and installation of the Win 7 -->10 upgrade.  The other Win 10 is on the computer upstairs, which I cannot reach, other than crawling up and down.  Luckily there is a downloadable patch free from Windows, so fingers crossed.  So far it is 37% done.  In my room here it is warm thanks to the electric fireplace which is terrific.  But the computer room heater was used upstairs until C got an oil filled one, and was never brought back down.  So it will take an hour or two to heat the room.

I got my hair cut a couple of weeks ago, and it looked fine after the hairdresser styled it.  Once I box dyed it it looked awful.  Not the color, which was fine, but the haircut.  One side is OK, and the other side is Albert Einstein hairstyle.  I have tried to use electric curlers, blow drying, hair gels and multiple treatments.  I hate it.  I have cut the fringes myself, or used bobby pins.  I just don't look in the mirror now.  

I got a phone call last week from Dr. A saying that I missed my appointment.  When I said, OH no when was it? she said, Now.  So we did a virtual therapy with Zoom and it worked out amazingly well.  I think it is good I need not get ready, get in the car, go to the building and look for a wheelchair, although I would have liked some makeup and a little hair taming.  Anyway, she seems good, I had the same psych doctor for around 20 years, so I was leery of a new one, but I am cautiously pleased.  It's a good sign that she laughed at my jokes.

Well I will check out the progress on Win 10 and get my taxes and R taxes in shape, although I don't actually send them until nearly April 15, we haven't been audited since 2010 and they sent us $$, so talk goes that if they have to pay, you never get audited again.  Even so, we had/have audit defense just in case.

Bye!

 

Charity

I guess it stands to reason that charitable organizations ramp up their "please donate" letters at Christmas time.  I have routinely given small donations at that time, maybe 6 or 7 different charities.  But times are tough now, and rather than sending each 5 dollars, I give $30 a month to two groups that I have supported for years.  They are St. Labre Indian Catholic School in Montana and St. Joseph's Indian School in S.D.  If I can, I add a donation to St. Jude in Memphis.  I have been in St. Jude and talked with some of the investigators in the research part so I feel a connection there. The Indian schools provide an extremely necessary haven for the very poorest children in a depressed area that is mostly overlooked now.  I just wish I could do more.  I still remember that stupid Rush guy on the radio saying that before being allowed to stay in a shelter they should show tax or wage proofs that they are really indigent.  Like they are such a great place that non-poor people are really trying to get there in order to get free lodging.  And in the highly unlikely event that they might have some sort of paperwork, does he think they carry that around in their grocery carts? I was in a laundromat while his program was on, and I'm sure the other ladies thought I was nuts as I argued in rebuttal to the broadcast, but there was no way to get them to switch the station.  Anyway, about Christmas giving, the sure sign that things are tough now is that the pleas for donations continue after the holidays, running the risk of exhausting their donors.  No more political donations from me, they are a never-ending cycle of need for this candidate, or this program, or this party.  I thought the election would put an end to the begging, but apparently not.  I am just tired, I won't read stories about Trump or his witless followers anymore.  

Maybe there should be a program for sending all our wealthy representatives to a shelter for a day or two.  That would give them a new slant on public moneys. It was Senator Everett Dirksen (60s) who is credited with saying "A billion here, a billion there, pretty soon you're talking real money."

I had a flabbergasted phone conversation last week.  I called CVS pharmacy to find out if my doctor had called in a script for a new drug for me.  I couldn't use the automated refill because it was a new script and thus I had no Rx number.  What I needed was a pharmacist, but I would listen to the recorded message about hours, address, Covid vaccines, flu shots, etc., etc.  And when the Voice finally sent me to a person, the man that answered said "would you hold" all in one breath, so I couldn't say "NO" and then I would briefly hear the god awful music, and then be disconnected.  Three times.  When the man finally answered, I said, "oh Jesus"  and he replied well that's not very nice.  I told him briefly about being disconnected three times, and he said he put me on hold and when he returned I had hung up.  I said no, you disconnected me, and he said, well you weren't very nice.  I want to change drug stores.  This one is too far away in any case.  And at 70 years old I'm well past the time when my vocabulary needs attention, profanity notwithstanding.

High?

  It's hard to use this keyboard with a bandaid on my index finger, all because of a toxic hangnail.  That's just a hangnail that's painful when bumped.  Still I will struggle on for now.

I think this is the wrong font/size again, but I am too lazy to figure out how they should be.  I use a MacBook Air, but I need to use both hands, where the Kindles let me use their keyboard with one hand which is some improvement.  Some.  I have 4 functional Kindles, two are mine and two were my husbands'.  He was always hard on gadgets, and the Kindle DX now has a 'next page' sticking key, and a very weak battery.  When I look online at the manuals, they all say the same: don't try to replace the battery.  Apparently the batteries are glued in with big gloops of heavy adhesive along with nearly everything in the case, and battery change is not a do-it-yourself project.  The keyboard can be replaced, the entire QWERTY keypad, but nothing is said about the function keys.  There is a group that takes broken Kindles, fixes them and then gives them to schools, and I plan to do that with the DX, it is the very large black and grey one, and is useful for kids that need a larger screen to read.  That will leave me with 2 second generations, one paper white and one Fire (color).  I wish I could transfer all of the books to one kindle, instead of searching through four to find the book I want.  Ah well, soon enough I will be down to 2 and then they will get donated too.  The paper white is the only one I can easily see.

Last week I had a routine appt. at the hospital, and as I started to stand up beside the car I landed another nosebleed.  I tried to hide it while pinching, I was afraid the clinic people would send me off to the ER, which I did NOT want to do.  So I was a little late for my appointment, but the nosebleed stopped.  This is only the second one I have ever had, and it surprises me how very bright the blood is.  And how hard it is to stop.

The snow from last Wednesday is pretty much gone, between the warm temps. and some rain.  We are slated to get tons of snow on Sunday the 7th but the meteorological data is usually right for the What but not the HowMuch calls.  We live on a ridge and the weather routinely parts and slides over to either side without a lot of snow or rain for us.  I can hope.  

Before they died my parents lived further from town but in a valley and they got lots of snow.  They had a garage and a paved driveway, but the driveway was steep and the snow was slippery there.  When my Dad was in the hospital for several days with a burst appendix, my Aunt from mid-state came to stay with Mom.  Just before the turn to their road there was a Quick Mart, and I would stop there and put the snow chains on the Subaru to tackle the road and the driveway.  They went every day to see 

Dad, and I took them home when visiting hours ended.  I got to where I could whip those chains on and tightened in just minutes.  After I dropped them off I stopped at the Quick Mart and took the chains off and  went home. The only tricky part of the whole process was to get the car in the garage so they didn't have to stagger through snow to go in the front door.  I would have to give the car a gun to get to the top, and then immediately stop before I hit the back wall.  I got pretty good at that too.  When I sold their house it was in the spring, and one buyer said to the other something to the effect that the driveway was steep but since it was paved they wouldn't have any trouble in the winter; to which I said *nothing*.  Caveat emptor.  

Well I've blathered on for a fair amount of reminiscing so I will stop for today.  Bye!

Moving along, Sorta

 I am stuck paddling this blog post along, with no clear idea what I will use for topics.  Bear with me, please.

How about starting in the past?  

I had a mundane childhood, appendectomy when I was 10 or so; broken wrist in 5th grade, from a fall on the basketball court; several day-long horse rides, back when no one even thought of liability.  And lots of babysitting, back when the going rate was 50 cents an hour.  Sigh.  Maybe I'll tell about that.

There was a neighbor who, like my dad, was a ham radio operator, and they were just a few houses from ours.  Mom knew them and deemed them "safe" for me to be over there for hours at a time. The "Smiths" liked to go to a local bar on the weekend and they walked there so there was no need to have a designated driver (though that idea wouldn't surface for a long time) but they never seemed boozy to me.  They had -- hoo boy --6 children, ranging from 10 or so down to toddler aged.  They also paid me double the going rate, because of the number of the kids, but they were all in bed when I got there.  The baby just needed to be changed, she would stop fussing and fall back to sleep before I got her in a dry diaper.  The first time that happened I called Mom, who came over and showed me how to do it, then swooped back home.  

But there was one night when things were different.  Mrs. Smith showed me the babies' leg which had a huge lengthy cut stitched up, and said she would cry to be held, not just changed.  They also said to make sure the dog stayed outside, and then they left.  The oldest girl came out and showed me how to cradle her and rock her.  And she told me how she came to have that gash on her leg.

There was a next door family that had a dog which sounded off like a T. Rex whenever anyone passed.  We never saw him because the hedge inside the fence blocked him from view, but boy did he ever sound huge. One day the Smith kids were all playing in their yard, and somehow the fence gate was unfastened and that dog snarled and snapped as he came at the kids.  They all ran for their back door, all but the baby.  That mean SOB grabbed the baby by her leg and turned to go back to his yard, and the oldest girl grabbed up the plastic toy baseball bat and hit him a bunch of times until he dropped the baby and came toward her.  She, bless her heart, grabbed up the baby and ran to the back door with her.  Mrs. Smith was there and immediately took her to the ER.  The gash needed 16 stitches to close.  Mrs. Smith called the sheriff and they took the dog away until they were sure he wasn't rabid and then put him down.  All the kids in the entire neighborhood were glad he was gone, because the bus stop was right on the sidewalk in front of his yard, and he sounded so ferocious.    

So when I sat for them after that the baby cried pretty much all the time unless she was being held and rocked.  She was terrified of dogs, even their own little rag mop dog, and they gave him away soon.  I don't know if she ever got over that awful day.  There are dogs everywhere, on TV, in books and magazines, walking quietly on a leash, it would be hard to protect her from all of that.

One of my friends sat for a different family, and one night she said there was a face looking through the window from outside.  She called the police and they stirred up a commotion looking all around.  I myself doubted there was anyone there, the police said there were no shoe marks under the window, and she was a real Nervous Nellie.  (They never called her for sitting again either.)  She always gave her babysitting money to the church, and I'm sure they never missed those dollars.  She borrowed money from me, and never paid me back, come to think of it.  Do you suppose there would be a big amount owed, compounded every year?  Probably not... 👀

 

Inaugural's program

 I have been watching the replay of yesterday's swearing in, etc. and I am not bored at all.  One, I never realized Lady Gaga had such a swell set of pipes until I heard her sing the National Anthem.  Two, I thought poor Tom Hanks was freezing up there, no coat and no mittens.  Three, I always cry at "Amazing Grace" and I have never seen Garth Brooks without a hat.  Four, I thought Joe Biden did a great job in his speech.  I am not a fan of political rhetoric, but I have never heard anyone give a better speech, even though he had to conquer an impediment of stuttering to do it all these years.  I hope this is a beginning of the end of hate and the start of the peaceful land where everyone has a good job and a living salary.  I can hope, right?

I am passing time trying to get a handle on improving my photography, using books since I am stuck here (one room) and can't move around, or outside for a wide assortment of subjects or to do the exercises recommended in "25 Projects to improve your photography".  It is a pretty old book (it recommends different film speeds to achieve various effects) but with a little trial and error similar results can be done with a digital camera, and can be observed immediately after each exposure.  Beats the heck out of waiting for photos to be developed and printed at the grocery kiosk.  All the examples are in black and white, of course.  I know digital cameras have a setting for B/W but I am not sure if the result is done on the camera before shooting, or after on the image.  Guess I will have to check it out both ways.  Lord knows I couldn't find the answer in the owner's manual.

I have found and charged up 3 of the 6 Kindles, numbers one, two, and six.  I could explain how I came to own so many (six total.  I think.) but it will only make me sound like a hoarder (but not my house, which is routinely purged into T D K (that's Trash, Donate or Keep).  And I learned this long before Marie or Martha.  And when I finish, I don't feel joy at my tidying, only sweaty and achey.  I would like to be done, every 6 months or so, but the dust alone would give me a sneeze attack if I waited that long.  Right now it all needs to be plowed under, but I can't do it with my walker, and C has enough to do as it is.  As long as I can't write phone numbers on the dust next to the telephone, I'm good to go for now.

My mom did a clean house like no one I have ever met.  And she worked a 40 hour week as a cashier, so there wasn't a lot of time for the house and the yard (don't get me started on the lawn work.  Bear in mind that in FL the grass, weeds, shrubs and so on grow all year round.)  Anyway, guess who did all the chores? Right.  Just a couple of examples here.  Once I saw Mom outside after - just barely after - a hurricane, sweeping the driveway and the sidewalk where all the sticks and shrubs went; it was still raining.  And the wind scattered them back again.  One time Dad was teasing her that he knew a dirty place that she didn't know.  Finally he relented and told her it was the top of the kitchen door jamb; he was tall enough to see there and she wasn't.  Out came the ladder...  After a trip to the grocery store, she washed the tops of all the canned food.  After using the canned food, she washed (not rinsed) the inside of the empty can and then threw it away.  She wouldn't have a cardboard box in the house "because of the bugs" so packages were opened in the carport, and only the contents came inside.  I could go on and on, but it makes me itchy.  When she was near the end, at 80 years old, I went to her house to clean it up, and she didn't care.  That's how I knew she was nearly at the end; she didn't care.  

don't know much

I hope this font behaves so I can move ahead without any glitch to slow me up.  I have been trying to clear the decks here, I have virtually no empty surface to lay anything down, and when I get a niche to sort the stacks, I fill it and then end up in the same place as before my clearing.  And still things end up missing, and I HATE searching for something.  Unfortunately the missing things are usually records or receipts that cannot be duplicated.  And eventually the missing item turns up.  Eventually.

I want a printer to keep right here and not have to use the one upstairs in the blue bedroom.  It works fine, but mostly I have to duplicate a print job because I'm not certain the first time yielded a good copy.  Maybe I will ask for a printer for my birthday which is 4 or 5 weeks away.  

Of course that means I will have to clear off a space to put the printer...

When I was 17 I left home (Miami) to go to college (SC) and to be closer to N. When I see photos taken around those years I look like a babe in arms, no wonder my parents (mother) didn't want to let me choose what to do.  Still, for all their concerns we were married for 45 years, until N died in 2016.  These days that is really unbelievable, when one in two marriages end in divorce.  We were an endangered species in those days; not that everything was roses, but we didn't expect it to be; I think with modern marriages the couples think their marriage will be a half hour romance with a laugh track, like on TV.  Not to cut each other any slack, just rush to the divorce judge.  Pity.  

I got my new shower chair and took it for a test run.  It is perfect (well, as perfect as a shower chair can be ) and it felt great to get cleaned up and shampooed.  

When I was 24, N and I bought two horses and boarded them at a big facility in South San Frisco.  Right away we had problems with "Jake" and because I was a better rider than N, and it was a three day weekend, we decided to work with Jake and see if he could be more even-mannered.  Later we found he had been a stallion until the owner had him gelded, just months before we bought him.  Not a good idea.  I had barely gotten started riding when for unknown reasons, Jake began to buck.  I held on for a little bit (seconds) and then fell off.  I recognized that he was past me (so he wouldn't kick me), and then hit the ground on my back and shoulders.  I just lay there in the dirt while everyone came rushing, and I said, take the saddle off and put him in his stall, he's for sale.  Someone bought him in a few days and I never saw him again; his new owner got tossed  several times too.  N wanted me to get off the ground and I eventually did, tho I couldn't stand up straight.  I got in the car and we went home; by the time we got there I couldn't feel my legs.  N called for an ambulance (although he thought I wasn't all that hurt).  The x-rays showed two vertebrae broken, one very badly.  That was the beginning a long convalescence with total bed rest in the hospital, and then 8 weeks in a body cast, and in a back brace for 3 months.  I don't remember much of the time in the hospital, or in the first times in the cast.  I would be laying in bed looking at the doorway then someone would POP! show up beside my bed.  I never saw anyone leave either, just POOF and they would be gone.  I had some heavy-duty pain meds at first, and lots of doctors, so I never figured who was who.  One day N got me in the station wagon on a gurney and we went to the stable.  MY horse came up and gave me licks (I have never had a horse since then that did that.)  and I fed him carrots; he dribbled carrot juice in my hair.  One of the kids at the stable took care of him, he was a palomino and had to be brushed down to keep that shine.  After all was said and done, I climbed back on him months and months later, and very gingerly rode at a walk for a few minutes.  All the people at the stable were amazed.  I owned that horse for years, transported him to WV when we moved, and finally he passed at 22 y.o.  I miss him still.

I don't know what brought all of that up, I've never written it all out before, and this is a pretty short version, if you can believe it.  If you have read this far, thank you.

London Bridge is falling down

 Or more to the point, I am falling down.

I fell getting in the shower today, and C had to call the Fire Department to get me on my feet.  I was on my knees with my arms clutching the edges of the tub, but I am too heavy and my legs are too wobbly, but we tried at least 3 times.  The fire department took 4 minutes and then walked me back to my bed.  I am ordering a new shower chair, and meanwhile I am taking  sponge baths.  Better than nothing.  I have been in and out of the shower for months now, not even a hiccup, but today my knees (both?) buckled as I was lifting my leg.  I "nearly" caught my self  but tipped over into the bench.  BoooHiss

And I really need a shower.

The EMS techies lingered so I guess they weren't super busy.  No therapy this week for me.  

Update

I have aches and pains in muscles I didn't know I have.  Odd that I don't have bruises it feels like I should carry some for weeks.  I want to give a trial to the airbrush but I just don't have the energy.  And here I have the Nikon right beside me, I could use it without running anywhere, but not the energy even to shoot.  Maybe tomorrow.

I wanted to take a photo of me + camera, but only if I have 3 hands...

  

  

"I shoot people and sometimes chop off their heads"

I will go back to regular font.

It doesn't seem possible

If I have to repeat this post one more time I will give up and post whatever is there, mistakes and all.

I think I mentioned that I got a new-to-me camera, a Nikon D200.  I have been trying every setting on the camera to get it to autofocus with every thing the manual suggested, but still no success.  The lens(s)are -AF and should be fine.  So after 2 or 3 hours I was no further along and gave up last night.  This morning I decided to switch out the battery, although it registered about 50% power remaining.  So I recharged the spare (just in case) and I turned the camera upside down to get to the battery in the camera.  And guess what?  The lens fell off the camera and rolled across the floor.  I fished it out, wiped off the bayonet mounts and put it back on, lining up the two tiny white dots.  Ok, now...  And I remembered reading that you had to turn the lens counter crosswise, until it clicked.  It was a little stiff, but I had turned it clockwise when I first put it on; and sure enough, I heard the click as it engaged each other.  And! It autofocuses like a champ.  I didn't tempt fate, so I did not try the other lens, I'll wait until there's future need for that lens.  And I am sure there is dust inside the lens, but that too can wait until I find the little grey squeeze thingy that puffs a little air to blow away the lint/dust.  Carefully.

Now I have to find my list of images recommended, from the Digital Photography Complete Course, if they are inside photos for photogs with a walker.  Wrong phrasing  but you get the drift. 

Several years ago I left my D40 camera on the dining room table all the time, with a glass bowl over it to shield it from cats and dust.  It was there for me or N to use for birds at the feeder, deer browsing, etc.  N told me one day that the camera just kept saying "too dark" and he gave up.  I asked about the lens cover and he said "Damn!"  He had taken most of the same photo classes that I did, and of course every time the instructor said, take the lens cover off.  It is like with computer users that are calling a help line.  They hear, "turn the computer off, wait a few minutes, turn it back on."  To hear the caller have a long pause and then say "turn it off and on, how do I do that?" Anyway... ended up with a lot of nice shots of humming birds.

Time for a nap...

I am playing with fonts today and this is way too small.  anyway, this one is good I think.

I am trying to get Christmas cards ready to send today, but it turns out I need more stamps.  I'm not surprised by that; every card has something wrong with it.  Either I messed up "Family", or put the phone number where the zip should go, or forgot to sign one altogether.  I looked for 20 minutes for my Christmas address stickers, and found them with (where else?)  the cards.  I should have used my erasable pen, but it looks so faint, and rubs off too.  Good thing this only occurs once a year.

I went to the clinic today for a check up with the surgeon that worked on my ankle back in July? when I broke it in a fall.  Two surgeries on my ankle, but 6 on my knee.  The appointment was for 8:30 am, which involved getting up at 6 am, when I usually don't get out of bed before 9 am.  We had snow on Wednesday, but although there was only 3 inches or so, it was on top of a layer of ice covered by sleet.  And we didn't know how the traffic would be, if the roads were still icy.  As it turned out, we only arrived 15 minutes before my appt.  The appt.  was originally on Wednesday morning, but I rescheduled it for today because the roads were truly treacherous on Wednesday, although the trees and shrubs are beautiful with snow/ice on every twig.  I wanted to take a photo, but the windows in the car are too smeary.  C and I had a bet on how long the doctor would spend with me.  C said 2 minutes, and I said 5 minutes, but C was right, 2 min 11 seconds.  All that hurry flurry for 2 minutes.  How many patients could he see?  Well, he has surgery on Fridays, so he is only there until 9 am, so I guess I'll cut him some slack.

My two foot tall Christmas tree looks very festive on the mantle in my room.  It needs a star or something on top, but the ornaments used on the big tree upstairs are pretty scrambled.  I want a poinsettia to go on the other end of the mantle, but it will have to wait for the next grocery run.  I'll take a photo once it is all set up.  

I am slowly typing up the blog posts.  I bought a book about formatting and submitting your manuscript.  I have only paged through it, but I can already see where I have gone wrong.  The book says to first write a "query" letter, send it to one or several agents (?) then once accepted write the manuscript.  My manuscript is already in rough form, and I have only  seen the word "blog" where it pertains to increasing readers of the book, once it is printed and finished.  I guess I could look at it as having no competition, or maybe just flogging a dead horse to try to get it accepted.  I can't think of any way to disguise that it is from a blog, starting with a title page... I think the individual posts are nicely written, but I am probably only fooling myself.  Anyway, I will try it submitting the whole thing first.  It will be either be on a thumb drive or on a CD.  I guess no one reads typed submissions these days.  

Dinner time, I am off for today.

Poor typing

If I had known how much I would need typing skills I would have practiced more.  Now high school gives classes under the name of keyboarding, which is a good bit different from typing.  Also more useful, when a keyboard has extra keys like "delete".  No more white-out in gummy little vials, and extra keys like all the function keys and arrow keys that let you move quickly across blocks of text.  I still have to look at the keyboard while I use it, leading to uncaught errors that are blocks of text in the past.  

There are quite a number of things in high school I would do differently now.  For one thing, I'd ditch the Bible I carried.  I never read it, why did I carry it around?  I'm sure it warned guys off;  hard to compete with Jesus.  I would smile more, aiming for a sunny disposition.  High school wasn't really that scary, just crowded with 2000 students.  There were 900 in my graduating class, mostly ordinary kids. The 50th reunion for our class brought 40 or 50 alumni, not much of a showing.  There were kids I knew from elementary school, but they went to a different junior high, where I lost touch, and now they seemed so much more sophisticated than me.  The ones that were jokers in elem. school were still big clowns now.  The chorus classes were the best, giving concerts several times a year.  I still remember singing second soprano for the Hallelujah Chorus.  Now I can't carry a tune in a bucket, what happened with that?  One other class I liked was Drama.  Another student and I were doing a joking part in Hamlet, where two servants did a light slapstick routine.  The only problem with that is when the guy was supposed to slap me,  he slapped me for real, I had a red handprint on my cheek for several hours.  I yelled, "Hey!  What was that for!?"  which Shakespeare never included.  In the psychology class, we spent several weeks learning to "read" body language.  That has proven to be useful. And we did an abbreviated IQ test one semester, and fortunately the instructor never revealed that I had the highest score, that would have sealed my doom. 

The math teacher, ex Marine, taught an advanced class which I truly enjoyed, it was like doing crosswords every day.  Never found matrix math to be a bit of good, or Calculus in high school either.  Crosswords.

The Main Number One that I would change is that Norm wouldn't die in my arms of a stroke at 72.  Just days away from our 46th wedding anniversary, I don't think either of us thought that he would go before me.  He had a mini-stroke earlier, don't know when, but the doctor in the hospital said that it isn't the first stroke you need to worry about, it's the second.  And he shared with me that his father survived his second stroke, and it would have been a mercy if he had not.  If only.  I lay awake at night thinking of all the what ifs.  

 

 Ye Olde Christmas Tree

For this year the tree is up!  Last year we bought the one on clearance after the holiday, and this one is primo.  The tree is all put together, just lift the base out of the box and put the top section on it.  Lights already on, and a few bows and baubles and we're done.  Merry Christmas!

I am planning to submit a manuscript of blog posts to an editor for tweaking and submission to a publishing house.  It will be a lot of typing, but if I do one post a day it will  fly by.  When I read back over the early posts I am thinking, "Hey, I'm a pretty good writer! "  I have seen a lot of books that have typos, bad story lines, and unbelievable characters.  I guess they were unedited, just cobbled together and pay a fee to get it in print.  No thanks...  I am not that vain to lay out that kind of money just so I could say, 'author'  But the criterion for submitting a manuscript is fairly picky.  Double spaced, left justified on a one inch border, all around punctuation different than what we were taught (one space after a period instead of 2), and so forth.  Luckily there are models to help with all that.  I will have to remove all the cartoons because I don't have copywrite for them.  It never mattered while I was not widely read, but to publish them, no.

The lady who wanted my cemetery plots in VA contacted me last week to continue the sale.  After not hearing from her back in Oct. I put it all back in the safe deposit at my bank, and getting them out when the lobby at the bank is closed was no simple thing to do, these days.  Also, I need $$ before I send out the bill of sale to her ( and the check cleared).  So complicated, bill of sale, Quitclaim deed and so forth.  If the money doesn't arrive, I will once again put all the paperwork away.  Like I have nothing else to do but play games.

 I want to get this settled before Christmas; it isn't simple in these days to get in and out of the safe deposit vault.  I have been kicking around the convenient idea of locking up the safe.  But heck, I'm not doing anything here at home.  And I am hoping the deal goes through.  My parents bought the plots in 1951, and there is nothing of consequence in the safe, other than a watch and a bunch of papers.  Don't you think the 80 pound safe is OK to keep the contents from burning up in a fire?  

These are the kind of thoughts I get when I am awake at 3 am.  

Anyway, the joke for today is:

Bye!

Feeling a little bloggy

 I am having a problem with a credit card(s) and Bank one says the problem is with bank two, and bank two says the problem is with bank one.  All I know is that if I find a bogus transaction on either account I will close both of them. Pain in the ass..  

I have finished with Xmas shopping, they only need to be wrapped.  I got two gifts for C and R each, so there is something to unwrap on Christmas morning.  Bearing in mind I can only shop in virtual stores.  Even WalMart has an online store, which would have been great if we still did Stockings.  They are hard to fill, other than using candy.  Hmmm... candy...

I ordered a fruit cake from Swiss Colony, to be delivered before Dec. 25th.  I used to make fruit cake, regularity around thanksgiving, and then dribble Rum over it every week or so.  Yummy, but with me being unable to get to the kitchen, and standing all the time to make it, it is a  no-go.  I hope the one I ordered is good, there are 5 pounds to eat so it better be yummy.

I have a book "Digital Photography complete course"  that has one exercise a week, with 20 weeks to give the reader a better understanding of the difference between OK and Wow.  I am unable to do most of the exercises because I can't get outside or use a tripod for now.  But soon.  The book is full color which helps a lot, and the diagrams of camera information is so I can stop going,"What is this button for?"  The D200 I got recently is somewhat similar for the D40, but there are some features that the simpler camera doesn't have.  I am having a good time playing with it - I can't take any actual photos because the ordered memory card hasn't come yet.  I found a box of photos while searching for something else, and they look sort of half-wow, but they are from film, so scanning them in and printing more leaves a lot to be desired.  And the photos of the kids are the most important and can't be duplicated any other way.  There are hardly any photos of me, because I am the one taking the photo.  The D200 has a simple way to get the shutter remotely fired with a cable, so I am looking forward to trying it out.  I never could get the infrared one to work more than twice.  

Carvana was supposed to send me a cash card for $50 once the whole transaction is final.  They sent the number and the code to use it, but when I tried it in WalMart, Amazon, eBay, and more, and all of them said invalid number.  I thought, oh well.  Then I got a check for $50 from Carvana, so I guess I wasn't the only customer to have this problem.  Now to get it to the bank.

joke

 While walking down the street one day a Congressman was tragically hit by a car and died.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance. "Welcome to heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."

"No problem, just let me in," says the Congressman.

"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from the higher ups. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

"Really? I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven," says the Congressman.

"I'm sorry, but we have our rules."

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people. They played a friendly game of golf and then dined on lobster, caviar and the finest champagne. Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who is having a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are all having such a good time that before the Congressman realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises.

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him, "Now it's time to visit heaven...

So, 24 hours passed with the Congressman joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

"Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity."

The Congressman reflects for a minute, then he answers: "Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell."

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell...

Now the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls to the ground. The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

"I don't understand," stammers the Congressman. "Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?"

The devil smiles at him and says,  

"Yesterday we were campaigning,

Today, you voted.."

(I am not the original writer of this...)

Surprise They Fit!

I recently ordered three pairs of wide leg jeans, and today the first pair arrived.  I am delighted to find that not only do they fit waist to knees, but they also fit loose enough to be able to draw them up above my knee (without making them be a tourniquet ) so I can get them where massage and the wire stimulus have room to fit comfortably.  It has been a nuisance to find a loose enough pair of pants based on how they fit Back Before The Crash.  Luckily bell bottoms are making a comeback and better yet, wide leg jeans work, since there is a fair amount of swelling above the knee.  I know I look ridiculous in them, but I don't care.

I also had C help me find the purse I want to switch, no small task given there are literally 100s of purses in my closet.  For a "walk-in" closet It is more like a "sidle-in" one, and my walker doesn't sidle at this point.  Maybe soon I will be cleared to try a few steps without.  In the rehab unit I walked a very small amount with someone pushing my wheel chair behind me, so I could stop if I got too wobbly.  Just thinking about walking makes me feel insecure now.

OK, here is a photo of me holding my hobo style purse.  You may realize that I hold it with 2 hands; too heavy to hold it aloft with one.  I will try to find a joke to go with this.  Exciting, the anticipation, isn't it?  Yeah, I know this post is cruising for a record making boredom price .  

Bye!