Dream a Little Dream... Tell Me What It Means

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To be honest, I feel mentally and emotionally better today than I have in a few weeks. Not sure why. I had a dream last night that could be the reason my spirits are up. I dreamed I had a handbag full of money. I have no idea where it came from and I knew I wouldn't have a job.

Yes, I know its funny. I'm laughing, too. But I can see it even now, a stack of bills, sitting neatly and orderly in my handbag. There was $1000. At least, I think it was $1000. That's the figure I had in my head.

No, I do not run around with $1000 in my handbag. If you ask anyone who knows me they will tell you I never have cash. Ever. I keep fifty cents in the car for the shopping carts at Aldi's and Ruler's. That's my cash. I might have a hand full of pennies for the children's penny march on Sundays but actual money, bills, dead presidents? Never. So, seeing a stack of money in my handbag is highly amusing, especially that amount. That's hysterical. But there it was, a neat stack of bills totaling $1000.

I have no idea where the money came from, where I was, nor why I had it. I feel like someone gave me the money but I didn't see someone give it to me. As in all dreams, it just was there.

At some point in my dream I was in my car with a blond woman sitting next to me. I didn't know her. I've never seen her before. She had this really bright smile and happy look on her face and you could feel the happiness from her.

I don't know where she came from or why she was in the car with me but she got out of the passenger seat and started to walk away on the driver's side. I called to her I think, because she turned back to the car and leaned over to look into the open driver's window. She just had such happy face, beaming at me.

I was distressed and I think I was sobbing. I said, "It is just so horrible. I can't take it anymore. I told God if he wasn't gone by July 1st that I just couldn't stay. I can't stand it anymore. I hate that I have to leave and he gets to keep his job."

She grinned at me, tilted her head to one side and laughed. "Just you wait," she said. "Just you wait." She winked at me and walked away.

That was the end of my dream. At least, it is all I remember. Such a weird dream.

Anyone do dreams?

#dreams
#portents

Cutting, Pinching, Planning

This was the view from my lounge chair on the patio late this afternoon around 4 or 5 p.m. I'd been there for most of the day. I have Sarah for the weekend because her mom is sick and we didn't get up in time for church. She was disappointed and so was I but I was lucky to get up at all. Once breakfast was over and we read a bit of the Bible, we headed out back and there we stayed, she all over the  place, talking non-stop while I lay in a chair and tried not to move more than necessary.

My back is killing me and I've had leg cramps off and on all day. I cut the yard yesterday, well the back yard. Mike did the front and the weed trimming. We also dug out the flower bed. I will be putting in the flowers this week. I'm itching to get to that. However, setting up the bed nearly did me in.

We had to do more than dig out the bed. That was actually fairly easy. The ground was soft from all the rain. Mike dug out the area and put the dirt in my John Deere wheel barrow and Sarah and I shifted the dirt around, removing grass and breaking it up. My sister, Phyllis showed up to help. She shouldn't have but I was glad she did. We had to pull the lattice off the front and clean out small trees that were growing under the porch, take the staples out and clean the lattice. We lay a ground cover under there to prevent a return of the growth. We rehung the cleaned and bleached lattice on nails so it will be much easier to remove should we need to do so. Then, we put the dirt back in the bed and added edging stones. It looks nice. The price... lots of pain and exhaustion by the time we were done. We broke the wheelbarrow but I think I can repair it. It is plastic and the bolts broke through the holes. I think if I buy large washers and some longer screws we can repair it and get a couple more years out of it. I got it free last year. Now I know why.

The end result of Saturday was that I was nearly dead by the time I got to bed. I'm still having some pain and swelling in my hands from the RA but all the rest is simply the result of using muscles too long dormant. My lower back has been a problem for years because my core is simply not strong enough. Last week it was Latissimus Dorsi that were complaining and this week it is my lumbar region. My legs aren't happy either.

I've got to start wearing tanning lotion. I don't tan well as I tend to freckle. Always did but at least I don't get sunburned much anymore, well, only mildly. But I'm getting a lot more sun these days and it helps my mood. My levels were over the limit and my doctor stopped all my Vitamin D supplements. That's the first time in nearly 7 years that I've been off D.

I've had a great couple of weekends in some ways. It is rewarding to see things come together here at the house. I love working outside and doing things. I just don't often feel well and I have to have help with things I want to do myself. And there is nothing like asking people who don't really want to help you to help. It's frustrating and I usually just let things go because of that. But for a few weeks now I've really got some things pulled together and it feels nice. All but the part where I feel like I've been run over by a bus. That's not so good.

Tomorrow I got back to work and I wish I could have more time at home. However, this weekend I've finally realized that I don't have many choices about the course my life takes. I never did have many choices to start with but now there are virtually none. I can stay at this job and have the money I need to continue to live securely as long as the job last. Or I can leave, tighten my belt, and maybe enjoy what life I have left to me.

When someone as close as a spouse dies you are faced with how very tenuous life really is and how very fast it can end. You try and make the most of it by going forward but every step cost you. For a long time I didn't much care one way or the other except other people relied on me for help. I couldn't lie down and die. So I went to work in an environment that has become increasingly toxic. If you look at the blogs there was a point about three years ago when it seemed I was making my way out of that dark pit into which Death had tossed me. At some point, something happened and suddenly I'm was in worse shape than I was when Jerry died. I can truthfully say I have never, ever been as sick in my life as I have been in the last two years. And it isn't over. I don't know if it will ever be better again.

I kept counting the dollar cost of leaving this job and taking my retirement. It will be a cut of  more than 50%. Think about that for a second. I won't mention my salary here but think about your own income. This month you have your normal income. Next month, you get 50% of it and from now own that is what you live on. Could you do it?

I'm sick of the graft, the favoritism, and the outright fraud. If you had any idea how much of it is going on both inside your government and by those receiving government assistance, you'd be horrified. It really is worse than you think. The money pours out of the federal coffers at a rate I can't begin to explain and into the hands of the most undeserving people I've ever met. They have created some of the most elaborate methods to lie and cheat that you'd not believe me if I told you.

Then you have those in charge who actually tell people how to cheat the system. Don't think it isn't happening. It is. All over this country. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being told I'm harsh when I make a decision to terminate assistance from a lying, cheating, fraud and told, "I'd do the same thing" by those in charge. I'm tired of being ridiculed because I refuse to accept that attitude or excuse the guilty. I'm tired of being made to feel like I've committed a crime when I when I refuse to accept as fact something the PTB say is true when I know for a fact it isn't. I'm sick of managers who "bend the rules" to suit their own agendas. I've worked in this environment for 15+ years and it wasn't like this when I started. The last 10 years I have seen it escalate to the point that I'm horrified that so many people are thieves and liars. I'm disgusted by management that is no better than the lying thieves getting the assistance.

Can I live off half the income I've been living on for the last 5 years? I think, if I don't try, I'll die anyway, a lot sooner. So, I've spent the last several days considering my options and the most attractive option is that I might live longer and happier if I quit, even if I have to pinch pennies and cut coupons. I might be able to get another job but looking around here, it is doubtful. I can't plan on it. I can't plan on anything.

The Price of Fame

For the first time since I started this blog in 2005 I've had to turn on word verification. I'm getting slammed with spam from dummies from overseas with commercial sites. They're pretending to be reading the blog and commenting on my wonderful content and excellent layout. All have badly worded comments that are obviously from a translation and probably being sent by bots.

First, I'm not stupid. I don't have anything approaching wonderful content. It is a personal journal that gets comments mostly from people I've been acquainted with in some way for years. While I do like the visual aspect of my blog, again, it isn't typical nor earth shaking. So, obviously, the dopes sending the lunch meat can't even program their bots to fool anyone. What a waste of time.

Just like the canned counterpart, spam stinks, tastes nasty, and is more or less meat parts trying to pass for steak. So, I've turned on the word verification feature and you'll have to type in a bunch of numbers or letters and submit if you comment, making it more difficult and frustrating for some to leave a comment.

Ah, the price of fame. Suddenly, I'm worth spamming. Who knew.

Through the Wringer and Out Back

Today is not a good day. I'll just tell you up front. Sometime during the night I went through a wringer washer and every joint is screaming in pain today. Many of you won't remember wringer washers but believe it or not it revolutionized laundry for the common housewife and rumor has it that it broke a few arms in the process. Let me just tell you, it is painful.

As I type this I hear heavy thunder which tells me another round is coming. I've called my RA doctor several times but no one answers the phone. You have to leave a message. I did but since she isn't even in but a few days a week, I have no idea when someone will get back to me. So, this isn't going to improve soon.

Before my journey through said wringer, the weekend was productive as far as getting the yard in shape. I still don't have my flowers out and at this point, I'm not sure when I will... if I will. The weather has turned rather, well, not exactly nasty but repeatedly wet at inconvenient times. However, we have a couple of raised beds with stuff planted. My sister and I are doing this together and we eat different things; it became apparent when we shopped for stuff to plant. I don't do yellow squash but like zucchini. I don't do okra but she does. I don't do eggplant but she does. We ran into difficulty finding things we really wanted that we both liked.

Also, it seems that everyone in Indiana eats huge quantities of tomatoes because they had hundreds of plants of a half dozen varieties. Since tomatoes give me acid reflux I don't do those either, although I do like them. We did buy one of the low acid variety and maybe I can have a few BLT's or just a plain old tomato sandwich. Love those. 

We got a couple of blackberry vines but probably won't see berries in quantity until next spring. I don't care. Sarah is going to pick blackberries. Never heard of cultivating the things until I came here and there are no dirt roads where you can just stroll along and eat them right off the vine until you bust. 

 We bought some seeds but it is rather late to start those but what the hay, we did anyway. Maybe we'll have three different varieties of beans. I was flabbergasted at what they didn't sell here. Not turnip, collard, or mustard seeds. 

And wonder of wonders, I bought a fig tree! Yes I did. This is another thing I have missed. You can't find a fig tree here to save you. I grew up eating fresh figs. Mama made jelly and preserves. I just want them fresh. I know that these things may never get big enough before I die to get more than a few figs but I'm good with that. 

I went to bed 11 a.m. and dozed for about two hours. I simply couldn't take it anymore and had to get my hands under the covers and warm. I wasn't really cold but I just didn't know what else to do. It helped marginally. When I got up, I wasn't feeling a whole lot better. I've not been able to do anything today but sit and read and stare at the rain falling.

The rain continues to fall in spurts but very heavy ones and the air is nice and cool. I am slightly better at 6:30 p.m. than I was at noon, when I began this post. I'm headed to the kitchen for some chili and then to the bathroom for a hot shower. 

My doctor's office never did call me back. I don't suppose it matters. Hands still hurt and burn. Nothing they can do for me. It would be nice to ask though. 

Rememberance

It was a beautiful day outside today. I got up this morning, pain in my neck, and headed out to the hospital lab to get blood work done for my primary care doctor. I decided that since my rheumatologist has standing orders for me to have blood test every 4 weeks I thought it was a good idea to kill two birds with one stone and combined the draw for both doctors. Only one stick.

After I left the vampires behind, I headed back home, changed my shoes and went to the cemetery to walk. I was surprised. I've been walking at there for almost a year now, off and on. It is just a beautiful place but I rarely see anyone about, even the cleaning crews. It is part of the reason I like walking there.

Today was different. The place seemed to be crawling with people and cars. They were coming and going and I had to get off the road a couple of times to allow two cars to pass. Most were old people, some on walkers, and some were probably middle age, and there were a couple of young mothers with children. Everyone had flowers and I noticed that flowers were more prevalent all over the cemetery. I found myself feeling a bit put out by all the coming and going but comforted by the fact someone remembered.

America is not a culture of death. Quite the contrary, we exhibit life with all the stops pulled out, never thinking about tomorrow, never looking back. We're a country focused on, as one beer company used to put it, "all the gusto you can get." We live for and in the moment, at break-neck speed. It is why drugs are so popular. When this feverish existence seems to slow down, because life actually runs at a much slower pace than we force it to, we are faced with normalcy and the drugs speed things up again. When you're moving so fast, reality is a blur you can ignore.

So, cemeteries are places we go when we die, to be forgotten. It is where life stops. If you don't believe me, ask anyone if they visit the cemeteries for any reason and how often. You may even get a few pulled faces and comments about morbidity and creepiness. But if you ask the same folks if they want to be forgotten, they will tell you they don't. In fact, I think most of us don't believe we will be forgotten. 

As I walked today, around each curve someone was getting out of a car, bending over a grave, placing flowers, or leaving a grave site. It was moving in an odd way. Of course, you know me, always find the flaw in the pattern, I realized that my home is not here. I have no extended family here but a granddaughter, son and a sister, none of whom I believe will remain here when I am gone, if they outlive me. My granddaughter, especially will likely go off to college, meet a Prince Charming and move somewhere else. I'm not likely to see that. And I will lie here in this cemetery, forgotten. No one will lay flowers or stare at my name carved in the stone and remember me.

This has bothered me a lot since Jerry died. As I said, no one wants to be forgotten. One of my greatest sorrows has always been that my Mama lies in a cemetery so far away I can't visit her grave and place flowers on it. I know that they're not "there" but this desire to leave mementos on graves is as old as humanity. It is inherent in us. Archaeologist repeatedly find sites of ancient burials with the remains of flowers and other mementos that were left by the living. Maybe some people do not have this inclination but it is so prevalent around the world that I wonder what is wrong with those who don't. What has happened to change us? 

It used to be even more common for people to visit cemeteries than it is today. Latin American countries have Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) where whole families have veritable picnics in cemeteries to pay homage to their dead and celebrate their life. Asia and Africa have many special ceremonies to honor their dead.  While these may seem extreme or weird to us, I don't find the intent odd at all. 

I rounded the last curve in my walk and the VA section came into view. I saw all those flags waving in the breeze. I saw the flowers I  placed on Jerry's grave and flowers other's had placed on their loved one's grave. I walked over to Jerry's and adjusted it. I read the name carved in the stone. I looked at the rows of graves of those who served this country, some sacrificing their life for it. More than a hundred small flags fluttered in the breeze and there were more on other Veteran graves in other parts of the cemetery. Monday there will be a memorial service here and the names of all the veterans who died in the last 12 months will be read aloud. There will be a 21 gun salute fired and a benediction given. For this weekend, at least, they are remembered. 

For those of you who are still with us who served and those who still serve, you are a special breed and you have my eternal thanks for your service to this nation.