Gang aft Agley

At last, the week ends. All things considered, it hasn't been a horrible week. A week without pain is gain, indeed. However, Friday the 13th arrived with bells on.

I have this part-time job. You may have heard about it. I'm a test proctor for a company here in town. I basically watch doctors, lawyers, college bound, medical school bound, mechanics, nurses, and teachers take standardized tests on computers. You may have taken such a test somewhere. They can last from half an hour up to 8 hours. Some might take two days but I haven't experienced those. For you it may have been tough. For the proctor, it is like watching grass grow.

At 7:30 we opened the door and even before we opened the computers refused to cooperate. Two test stations and the admin station simply didn't want to work. I called the help desk. They were experiencing problems and said call back.

...........Yes, they did.

I've worked with computers for over 30 years and never such a thing happening. I rarely call help desks for anything but the times I have, I was never told to call  back due to technical problems. And I have 9 people to seat at their stations by 8 a.m. Half an hour is pushing it for registration, security checks, and seating.

But I worked my magic and we got them going. A third computer acted up later. Throughout the day, we had minor issues that kept us running. But the end of the day, my co-worker and I were exhausted and cracking jokes about testers committing suicide with their headsets. He was very funny. I just held my sides.

Sarah went out with my sister for a few hours and so cooking wasn't necessary but I made tuna salad and had that for a late dinner. At 8 p.m. I looked up from my book and meal and realized I was going to fall over if I didn't get to bed. I told Sarah I had to shower and go to bed.

"Can I stay up until 10?"

I showered and tried to figure out why I felt as if I'd keel over if you thumped me. Let me see. Arose at 6 a.m. and got Sarah up, fed, and ready for school. Left for work at 7. Opened the office at 7:15. You know the rest. Got home around 3:45 p.m. and read for a few hours. My sister brought Sarah back around 5 and stayed for about an hour and a half to visit. Dinner at 8. So, here I am at 9 p.m. I calculated. Oh, wait. I've been on  my feet for about 15 hours.

O.k., that might be it. And I didn't get a nap today. Maybe I should go to bed. Yeah. By the time I brush my teeth it will be 10 and Sarah can't argue.

Ah... a plan.

I keep hearing Robbie Burns say, "The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,  Gang aft agley,"

On a Clear Day

Can you imagine waking up and not feeling any pain at all? Can you imagine being able to have a clear thought, to not feel as if your brain was stuffed with cotton wool all the time?

I can't. I do not remember what it is like to wake up and not feel pain all over. I can't remember being able to walk without my feet hurting or my neck in excruciating pain. I can't remember what it feels like to be able to think clearly.

I don't remember what any of that feels like. I've had days of moderate pain, but no days when I was totally pain-free. For over 7 years.

Today marks one week since I received the Humira shot for my rheumatoid arthritis. The doctor told me it could take up to two months to see any effects. Over the last week, we've had day after day of rain and thunderstorms. My usual reaction to this kind of weather is days of severe pain in every joint, even my skin hurts. Low-pressure systems are a physical hell for me.

So, how has this week gone? For the first four days, after the shot, I woke up to no pain at all. It felt as if my brain had some kind of jolt and everything felt sharp and crisp. From the fifth day through today I've had some minor pain in a couple of small joints. I've had a couple of ocular migraines, at least I think that is what they were. 

Today, I have no pain other than some minor pain in my hand and we had a storm come through. The lack of brain fog alone was a shock. 

I don't know if this is all a result of the shot or if I'm in a short remission due to the steroid I had to go on a week before the shot. That's never happened before and I've taken the steroid at least 4 times in the last year and a half. Generally, the steroid only works during the first three days until I begin to taper off and then the pain returns.

Whatever it is, I'm thankful for it. So, I'll be watching things with interest to see how it goes. I'm terrified of this medicine but I have very few choices at this point. 

So On And So Forth, Whatever...

As Busy as A......

The last month has been so busy I haven't had time to do anything but work, clean house, and sleep. I don't know if I mentioned I went back to work in January. It is only a part time job but it was just enough money to fill a shortage in my budget.

Anyway, I've been adjusting to that and less time at home means, adjusting in several areas. Initially, I was just working half a day a few days a week. Two weeks ago a coworker (19 yr old who has never had a job) went into a snit and walked out so I've had to work more and longer days. I'm virtually wiped out. I told them today I simply could not work these long days after next week. The big baby will be back next week. Not my doing. If I'd been the boss, he'd be toast. I'm not. He's not.

Anyway, going back to work aggravated my already endless fatigue. I have been so exhausted for a while. In March, I finally bought something for adrenal fatigue at the health food store that seems to be working very well. I can get through the day now without passing out for four hours after only a few hours out of bed. However, the last two weeks have really caused problems with my pain and fatigue.

The net result is that I've done virtually no writing and nothing for fun. I read and watch t.v. and go to bed. I've managed to keep up with the laundry, keeping things swept and vacuumed. That's about it. With the increased pain levels I've had to start taking the steroid in the last three weeks to manage my pain.

On a more positive note, the money has made a huge impact at bill paying time. I'm so thankful for that. And I do find I like the structure better, although the 6:15 alarm is no fun. I have to be there at 7:15 and this means getting up ahead of Sarah and getting her ready for school. She's a bear most mornings. Thank goodness, Mike comes over on the days I work and gets her on the bus. But 6:15 to 5 p.m. is a long stretchThen, I have to prepare food. Lately, it is sandwiches and pizza. I have to cook tomorrow. I'm sick of junk food.

Mike got a part-time job as well about a month ago. He's been looking for a second one but has had no luck. Because of the new Indiana policy of starvation for anyone not working at least 20 hours, he won't get help with food and that's one reason I had to go to work. Since there are virtually no full-time jobs for folks with no marketable skills and disabilities such as Mike has, he's lucky to get even one job part time. Most employers have not wanted to deal with his hearing problems and the other things that accompany it. And the new "no food" policy means the small check he'll get won't cover all his food needs plus rent, medical insurance, and medicine. If he didn't have a scooter, he'd be walking to work. On icy/rainy days its bad.

Of course, if I could figure out how to make him a refugee from some terrorist country, the problem would be solved!

I'm done. There isn't really anything else to tell. I have been thinking about letting this blog go. I've been doing it since 2005 I think. Over 10 years! I don't know that anyone is really interested anyway and I'm not sure it isn't just a waste of time. I vent a lot and no one wants to hear my whining. Maybe it has served its purpose and it is time to go. I'll have to think about it. It only just occurred to me. Maybe it is time to stop.

Follow Up

Lunch With Me

A burger and a sunny day made a nice lunch.

A Crime of Stupidity

Weapon Used

So, I poked holes in my kitchen trash can. I saw this little hack online and it works really well. When I try to pull those plastic trash bags from the can I often end up fighting myself because of the vacuum seal that results between the can and bag. To prevent this, you just punch some holes in the sides of your can, a few inches from the bottom. It really works great.

I usually pour about a quarter cup of PineSol in the bottom of my can each week. It usually dries up in a day or so but it smells wonderful and when the can needs washing out, it is a much easier process. Just use your sink sprayer and put two or three cups of water in it and swish with a toilet brush, rinse, and pour the dirty water down the toilet.

Scene of the Crime

There is one inherent flaw in this process. I found it today. If you're standing at the sink, daydreaming, and use the sprayer you have to remember those holes. After work today, I took out the garbage and decided while I was filling the sink to do dishes that I'd clean the can. I happened to look down to see water spraying out of four small holes in the sides of my can. The damage wasn't serious but it did require mopping the floor a couple of times. It took a bit to sop up all the water and I had a good laugh at myself, but no harm done ... until I stepped into the den ajacent to the kitchen.

I was still wearing my work shoes, low heels, when I stepped down from a wet floor onto the dry concrete floor. My right foot was still on the step and left foot on the floor... for a second. The left foot slipped out from beneath me. I fell, the right leg bending at the knee beneath me, my body falling backward and landing on my right calf and foot. I hit  my arm just above my left elbow on the edge of the concrete step.

Fortunately, that arm and the bent leg probably kept me from hitting my neck or head on the concrete step. However, the front of my right thigh felt as if it had just undergone some sort of test to see how far it could be stretched. I remember doing something similar in aerobics or something when I was about 25. I'm not 25 now.

I struggled onto my butt from my prone position and was lucky enough to reach the house phone. I called my son, Mike because I honestly didn't think I could get up. I was wedged between the kitchen door and a desk, with one leg doubled under me and both it and my arm giving me a good dressing down.

I really believed I'd probably broken that leg but after the first wave of pain swept over me, I decided I was in better shape that I originally feared. My body began to wake up from the shock about the time Mike arrived. The arm hurt and will probably pout for a few days. The thigh still protested having to support my uh.... weight but then they usually do anyway. My upper back was annoyed I'd clinched up. Although my neck had not struck anything, it was absolutely irate at the strain I'd placed on it when my body protested falling. Everyone's a critic.

Mike was worried  and said, "Good thing you didn't break your leg." 

I looked at him. "Right, because I don't think you would take as good a care of me as I did of you."

We both laughed. He went home. I finished putting away the laundry. My leg and back were not happy, so I took a hot shower and two Tylenol. I suspect tomorrow they'll get back at me.

My Response to a Stupid Article

This morning I read an article titled, 15 Things An Adult Woman Should Never Have in Her Home. I was so annoyed by it that I felt compelled to respond but since my response is rather lengthy, I decided to post it here.

Obviously, this person has lived a privileged life. The average real woman is all about thrift and saving her money for the really important stuff... like vacations and classy clothes and knock 'em dead shoes. Those don't come cheap. Or maybe it is really important to feed the kids and since groceries cost more than ever, we don't worry about rods, drawers, and hangers. I read over the list and decided the writer needs a reality check.

Let me first say I do agree with one point. One should have a good mattress. However, most mattresses these days are junk. They have a 5 yr lifespan because manufacturers stopped making them reversible and use cheap materials so you have to buy them more often. At one time 20-year warranties were the norm but since you can't flip them that has fallen by 15 years while the cost of mattresses have tripled. They're sort of like a futon.

Plastic drawers... I have them because children have lots of stuff that are better in drawers that don't break, are easy to see into, and easy for a 5 yr old to reach.

Didn't you know that art is in the eye of the beholder? Why is it bad for me to have posters if I want them? Have you priced frames?

Hangers? Really? Is this really an important thing? Listen, dry cleaner hangers are the prize for being able to afford to have something dry cleaned. They're essentially free but not really. And let's face it, no one keeps clothes long enough for a hanger to wear them out, particularly if you have children. The smart mom even saves the department store hangers that come with kids clothes. They're FREE! Kids usually outgrow the clothes before the hanger breaks.

Spring rods are awesome for places you can't put a nail! Like apartments whose owners are annoying like that. Or a kid's room where they inevitably tear the curtains down doing what kids do. They're also wonderful to hang a temporary curtain for whatever reason, or under a doorless cabinet. No, I don't know why the cheap landlord didn't put up a door but I don't like seeing cleaning supplies.

Why is a beach towel not a towel? What if I like huge, brightly colored towels? What if I need an extra large towel. And they're usually more towel per buck. Besides, they're a great backup if I can't get the laundry done in time.

A shower curtain liner is not a shower curtain? Then why are many shower curtains PLASTIC with pictures! Do I need to add more junk to the environment by buying two plastic curtains? Seriously, I don't care what you do to dress it up, a bathroom is an ugly but necessary feature. Get over it, use the toilet, and stop snooping.

My dead husband gave me the purple bunny. If the next man has a problem with that, he needs to go.

I don't have many Exes. In fact, none. However, my mama told me to never give back the loot. So.. just because your exes gave you junk is no reason for me to give back the nice stuff. Who will know if you don't tell? I think you have too much emotional attachment to stuff. It is just stuff.

The flimsy cutlery? They call it plastic and I use it when I have guests so I don't spend all my time washing dishes instead of enjoying the company of my guests. Or for when I've worked all day and don't want to be bothered with cleaning up dishes. Or when I'm sick and can't do the dishes. Same for the paper plates. However, I do buy the really good paper plates. I don't want to clean the roast out of the carpet.

Metal bed frames? Uh... all bed frames are metal... unless you mean the decorative part, which generally come in a variety of styles and materials. Metal is quite durable and you can change the color of it when you get bored. As for sterile... well, that is where the accessories come in... they call it decorating. Still, I much prefer metal to plastic. Longer life, less waste. Personally, I have a wood frame bed and I find that a wooden frame will break a toe just as well as a metal one. The knee bruises look the same also.

The freebie cups are not for the grown-ups. They're for the kids and annoying house guests. I don't want either of them to break the good stuff.

Mismatched sheets... have you actually bought sheets? Those things cost the earth! You don't throw one away if part of the set wears out. You find ways to use it... like on the futon...

The futon? That's for annoying house guests who take exception to my decorating choices.

A Day at a Time

For anyone following along, you know that I've survived death and learned to breathe underwater. It took a long time. And some days, I flounder, choke on my tears.

When you lose someone you love, you do not get over it. It doesn't get better. You survive it and you learn to breathe underwater. I still think about him every single day. At least once a day. Sometimes several times in a few minutes.

I still can't watch certain shows, hear certain music, read certain books, or go to certain places. I'm crippled in more ways than one by his death. But I keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I don't know what else to do. It hurts. That doesn't stop either. You just learn to work through the pain and avoid the things that make you notice it.

This week my nephew signed his divorce papers and has been having trouble breathing. I was so upset for him. I wanted to help him but I can't. His heart is broke, and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do now. I know this because the loss of a person you love has the same effect on you when they die. And when you love, it just doesn't go away because you throw dirt on someone or you sign a paper. You don't just get over it.

I'm thankful that Jerry loved me until the day he died. He said he would, and he kept that promise. I have survived seven years without Jerry. I haven't lived a darker time in my life. I haven't lived a more painful time. I haven't gotten over it. I just learned to get through it. One day at a time.

Vanished Into the Dark

Tomorrow will be the 29th. Seven years ago tomorrow my whole world turned upside down. Every day I stare at this tableau there is a stab of pain and a flood of memories.

This morning I was wondering this morning how I was going to address tomorrow. Since 2009 I can't approach January 29 as if it were any other day. I remember the first few years the number 29 drove me crazy. Every time the number came up in any context I experienced anxiety.  That faded eventually but the day is still a difficult day to approach.

In fact, beginning January 29, 2009, every major holiday and special occasion has been painful. Starting in August, with Jerry's birthday, until February there are six days that have nearly wrecked me: his birthday on August 6th, Thanksgiving, Christmas, our wedding anniversary on January 11th, his death on the 29th, and Valentine's Day. For nearly half the year, since 2009, I've clinched my teeth, straightened my spine, and struggled not to think about Jerry not being here. I rarely succeeded in being stoic. Each month I'd have at least one day where I just fell apart.

This year, I totally forgot Jerry's birthday. I was stunned and upset with myself the day after when I realized it. Sarah and I were sick. I always take flowers but I forgot him. In November, I was away from home for the holiday and things were very busy and filled with people I love so I didn't brood over Thanksgivings Past. Christmas the house was bulging for three weeks. More people I love, my family and some friends, filled the house up and there was no time to really brood over anything but the lack of time alone, which they gave me at intervals. It is probably the first time since he died that I didn't feel bereft or make myself sick crying. With so much coming and going, there were few opportunities to wallow in self-pity. You know there's folks who think that way after 7 years. There were people who thought that way after the first 6 months.

But tomorrow is the 29th. Today there is a pressure in my chest and a sadness hangs over me. I'm not distraught. I'm not prostrate. I don't feel like crying. There is this heaviness in my gut and I feel as if I have lost something, and I need to get up and look for it. Maybe tomorrow I'll find it?

I should go to the cemetery. I should take flowers. I should tell him I haven't really forgotten, that every day, at some point, I see him, hear him, and feel him. Sometimes only for a moment, sometimes for hours. I should remind him that when I see his picture, sitting there on that shelf, a flood of memories rushes over me. They're funny, happy, silly, angry, and sad all at once.

And sometimes, I get angry because he's not here. He left me with an upside down world and no one to help me clean up the mess. I have to figure out everything myself. I have to take care of every problem alone. If I get afraid, there is no one to hold my hand or wrap me in strong arms. No one to tell me everything is going to be fine. No one to fix the car, the toilet leak, the floor, or take out the trash.

Tomorrow is the 29th. Perhaps, the wheels will begin to turn again and the world will right itself. No. No, it won't. Because it is the 29th and on that day, I died, too. I won't find the things I've lost. Who I am now is not who I was on January 29, 2009. Everything I was and was supposed to be was gone in a moment. I watched it vanish into the dark. Maybe that is why it still feels like I've lost something. I didn't lose Jerry. I lost me.

I love you, Jerry Maddox. I'll always love you.

Some Words Fix Everything

I don't know what we were talking about tonight at supper but something was said about someone taking care of someone. I made the comment that Jerry always took care of me but I didn't have him to do that anymore.

Sarah looked at me and said, "I'm doing that now, Mawmaw."

I said, "What?"

She said, "I'm taking care of you now."

What can you say? Some days life on the ledge is bearable.

Hump Day Happenings

Unhappy Start to a New Year

I can't believe the last week. I've had the most miserable week. Pain just slammed me with the weather front that pushed through. Joints, skin, muscles all felt as if I'd been a punching bag for Cassius Clay. Google that and you'll be surprised. I couldn't think because I had a terrible headache for 24 hrs. I am walking in a fog, probably a fibro fog.

This was made all the more frustrating because I had promised myself  I would try and focus less on whining and complaining this year. I don't make resolutions. There is a post somewhere about that. Might be in Life on the Ledge. Anyway, I told myself I'd try and be more positive or not post so many negative things. So naturally, things just went south.

Then today happened. I woke up with the idea I'd do some things around the house and maybe write. In one hour I was basically a zombie. I couldn't think. My brain felt like mush and I was so tired I thought I was going to fall out. Yes, I slept fine. The machine worked. But something is wrong.

I lay down around 1 p.m. I think and dozed. I felt a bit better. As the day wore on, I still was more or less useless. Then Sarah and I got stomach problems. She threw up. I had Montezuma's revenge. No idea what caused all that. I am still tired and about to get my shower and turn in. Maybe tomorrow will be better. We get to sleep in because schools are on a two-hour delay. So, we can sleep until 8:30. Yay!

I've been getting used to the new laptop, Blue. I miss Red but one must move on. I'm ready now to do some writing. If my brain will comply.And I'd like to finish the two books I'm reading. So much to do and I feel awful.

Nite Nite.

Happy Holidays, Star Wars Gripes, and Sweet Dreams

WARNING: STARWARS Spoilers may be present.

My holiday is going rather quickly. My son and his family are in for the week and I've enjoyed spending time with them. I do not enjoy shopping. I still have more to do tomorrow. And cooking. Thank goodness my DIL likes cooking and has volunteered to do it. Thank goodness she is a good cook.

We went to see Star Wars today. I'm not thrilled. I've seen the originals numerous times, watched the "new" 1,2, & 3 and didn't like them greatly. I've read, if not all the books, most of them up to where Jaina and Jacen Solo were about to become Jedi. I know Jacen eventually turned to the dark side and was killed and I know Chewie was killed in the destruction of a planet, saving one of the Solo children. What I saw today totally re-writes the story line and messes with the timeline of the books. So, if you're a rabid fan married to the original storylines, get ready for a disturbance in the Force.

My next gripe, the death in this movie was totally unsatisfying and a disappointment. I know it is about who agreed to do more movies, but it would have been better just to write around it. But that's just me. When you eliminate a major player it has huge impact. Also, it messes with the storylines that carry though dozens, and dozens, and dozens of books.

Third gripe, this is just a rehash of the original movie #4. Nasty dark lord and his ginormous holographic overlord are out to destroy the galaxy using a monster machine, in this case, capable of devouring suns as ammo. Small resistance force and Republic are bent on defeating them. Young, independent, freedom fighters step up to fight, using their various talents. Same story line, different people, bigger death star. I have to say, any of you could have written it. And it was much more interesting the 1st time.

So, if you're a novice who has only seen the mediocre 1,2,3 & the awesome original 4, 5, & 6, and who has never read a thing from the series of books, you'll be fine. Otherwise, be warned.

My new laptop is supposed to be in on the 23rd! They updated the delivery date and I'm thrilled. I have the desktop running, but it is not running that great. Very slow start up and I'm sure there is a reason, but I'm about ready to give up on it. I need to update a slew of drivers and there is no easy, fast way to do that.

Of course, since I've had no computer, I couldn't write AT ALL! It has been horrible. I usually take a week after NaNo but I was already back to working on my stories within days and then both computers blew up (metaphorically, except in the case of the laptop). I have one going now but am behind in bill paying and back balancing due to said computers problems. And now I have a house full of people that I want to spend time with. So, my stress level is a bit high.

CPAP is working great. I've been getting much more sleep and feel so much  I solved the problem of the leaky seals by buying something called Remzzzs. Very expensive but I'm going to look for a way to make them before I run out of the current supply. My problem now is the dry mouth that results at times. I wake up with my cheeks stuck to my gums like glue and have to be pulled apart. This results in tearing flesh from either my gum or my cheeks off in hunks. This, in turn, is highly painful and leaves a sore. So, research is needed for this. Someone said put petrolum jelly between my gum and cheeks, but I don't know if that would work or if it would be safe for long term. Ingesting it might be a problem.

That's it for today. Enough?

Downhill Slope

We're making the run to Christmas. I've been busy and away from the blog for a number of reasons. NaNo came and went pretty quickly. The holiday put me behind but as you can see, it didn't stop me.

We went to Atlanta on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and returned on Sunday after. During that trip, I had dinner with family on Thursday, took a plane ride on Friday with my cousin (who just got is pilot's licenses), and went shopping at thrift stores on Saturday. There wasn't much time to write but I got a few hundred words in.

Wednesday morning, before we headed down, I stopped to get my C-Pap machine and I've been breaking that in for two weeks now. With rather mixed results. Getting the right mask and figuring out how to stop leaks seem to be the biggest challenges. When it works, I feel great the next day. When it doesn't, I'm ready to throw the thing out the window. That leaky mask is my current bone of contention. Today I picked up some Remzzzs. These are triangular pieces of "t-shirt" fabric you put between your face and the mask to help prevent mask leak. We'll see.

Let me explain mask leak to the uninformed. Sometime after you fall asleep you are awakened by the sound of a fart. This is followed by a wheeze and a whistle and then the sound of rushing air. No, it probably isn't your spouse. I'm a widow, but there is no comfort in these sounds. They are repeated until you get up in frustration and try to reset the seal on the mask. You lie back down and attempt to go back to sleep. Only to be awakened in half an hour or five minutes with the same mix of sound. Last night I got up 4 times to try and fix the mask. I gave up. I emailed the doctor today and they gave me samples of the Remzzzs. As I said, we'll see.

The real problem is that a 30 day supply of those things is close to $40. So, I won't be buying them. They are made out of t-shirt material. I'm going to get some of that fabric and try to make my own . . . if these work. I can get a month supply out of one t-shirt!

I do have one comment. For something that so many people are using and that has been around for such a long time, you would think some technological genius would have figured out a way to seal a face mask. I'm betting NASA has an effective seal for a face mask. Of course, none of us OSD folks want to sleep in a helmet. However, after 4 interruptions in 6 hours, I'd consider it. Even divers have sealed face masks, right? I suppose they may let in a bit of water, but they don't have to swim up and fix it.

I've not done any writing this week. Mostly because the CPap isn't working and I'm exhausted. I did work on my anthology story a bit today and will likely finish it in a few days, if I can get some sleep. I have some critique reading to do, too.

The Christmas tree is not up. I hope to get that up this week. The Christmas shopping is not done. That is the least of my worries.

Now, I'm going to bed. I know it is a pretty boring post, but they often are. If you stumbled in by accident, I apologize. If you visit, more often, you might feel better about your life. Or you might think I'm an idiot to worry about so much of mine. Either's fine and it isn't mandatory to care about anything here. I feel better just writing it down.

In case I don't get back here this month, I wish you all a most wonderful Merry Christmas. Please remember that the greatest event in the history of the world is celebrated on December 25. We're not celebrating trees, or elves, or fat men in red suits, or presents, or snow, or colored lights. Those are just things and they have no power to do more than make us smile. They can't bring peace or good will to anyone.

But what it all means is the Savior of the World came. He had a plan to set the world right. He gave it to us, it was all written down in a book, and handed down through 2000 years, and carved into hearts and minds. If you think it failed, the fault lies in humanity, not in the plan.

And for those of you who have a problem with the decorations of the season, and those of us who see nothing but lights and tinsel, that's my tree from last year up there. Don't even go there with me. A light is a light. A tree is a tree. And a wild hair is a wild hair. And there is no power in any of them except the lights I plug in.

If you're so all-fired "faithful" and righteous about the pagan roots of the whole thing, you need to stop buying gifts and give back your gifts. And do not set down to that laden table of food. You're celebrating with food cooked for a pagan holiday. And you know you're gonna make a pig out of yourself with that same food, not just one day but right up to New Year (another pagan ritual). I got a little secret for you, gluttony is the biggest, most frequently mentioned sin in the Bible.

Swallow that camel.

Obligations

I've spent the last two days feeling awful. Actually, today I felt ok. Yesterday was typical. The C-Pap mask didn't work properly on Monday night and so I slept horribly on and woke with a raging headache on Tuesday. I did have a realization that these particular headaches may be the result of severe oxygen deprivation. Not sure why I didn't peg that before but there it is. I'm pretty certain I'm right. No wonder I've been a zombie for the last two years.

I'm having a lot of problems with the mask and if tonight is no better than the previous week, I'm taking it in tomorrow and telling them they gave me the wrong size.

Aside from that, I had the burning urge to write all day but I didn't. Well, I was sick Tuesday and couldn't think straight from the pain. Today... I had an eye appointment and that always last a couple of hours. My vision has hardly changed and I have minor cataracts! Well.

I would just like to know if there is anything else we're overlooking here? Really. Cause it would be nice if there wasn't anything. The eyes are not anything that needs attention at the moment. And joy, joy, he didn't dilate my eyes. My A1C has been so good I don't need that at the moment.

Anyway, I didn't write. But I'm itching to write the rest of the story. My usual policy is to not do any major writing in December to give me a mental break. Then I remembered the Anthology story. Yeah... I have to fix my edits and finish the thing. {sigh} I'm not happy. I want to finish the NaNo story. It is so near completed I just want to do it.

Obligations suck. Even ones to myself sometimes.

Out of Town

In case anyone is wondering, I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month. You know, National Novel Writing Month is November and I'm the Municipal Liaison for this region. So, I have to write a 50k word novel in 30 days and convince a lot of other people they can, too! It is fun and a lot of work.

So, that is where I am. I am posting progress reports to my writing blog, so you can check there. There should be a link up there somewhere. I also posted the in progress story for you to read along. That's probably not up there. I only shared it withe my Facebook folks. If you're not, head over to that page. The link is over there somewhere. No, to the right.

Anyway, I'll be back maybe in December. But you do know we do Christmas here? And I'll have a house full that week. And I haven't even got the tree up yet.

Wait. Thanksgiving comes first, doesn't it. Right. Ok, never mind. I might be back before Christmas but after NaNo. . . I mean Thanksgiving. Which is the same thing, actually.

Die Another Day

I never do the sensible thing. I start cleaning out disk files and I just have to click on that file and listen to it again. And I always regret it. I have decided today that the day I can listen to this and he doesn't die all over again, I'll be ok. I won't feel like there is a sword in my chest. I won't feel like I'm broken in half. I'll be able to listen to it and nothing will happen. It will just be a song from my youth.

A Clean Sweep & A Crazy Week

Don't ask me what I did in the last week. I don't think I can repeat it all, even if I could remember. From Monday onward the whole week was a mad dash. I spend hours calling about appointments to get a sleep study set up for me and another appointment for Sarah, running around on errands, foraging, and trying to get the garage cleaned out. I did a couple of hours of writing in all that, not nearly what I wanted, but better than none.

The garage was Friday's project. I expected it to take about 4 hours. It took a full 6 hours not counting the hour and a half we took for lunch. But the end result is an extremely clean garage, shelving installed, every item put away and three bags of trash out by the curb. I still have to reorganize stuff in there. I have three boxes of "thingies" that have to be assessed, put in the appropriate container (trash or storage) and a couple of items that have to be disposed of just because they've been sitting there forever and I don't really need or have room for them.

The garage project took its toll. As we neared the end of the job, my feet began to hurt terribly and I could barely walk by 6 p.m. It only got worse. By Saturday morning, my hands, feet, and knees were swollen and my back, legs, and hips hurt. Today is marginally better.

As a result of all that, I didn't get any major things done yesterday. I did finish up the blue crochet blanket, which entailed weaving in the yarn ends back into the fabric. I decided to put a border on it and I expect to finish that in a couple of days if my hands function appropriately. Then, I will try to get that mailed this week. It is a baby gift and will be big enough to use as a crib blanket. The yarn is amazingly soft. I used I Love This Yarn, from Hobby Lobby. It took 5 skeins and about two months to finish, with everything else I have going.

Now I can get back to the other afghan I'm working on. I had to lay it aside to finish the blue because of the baby due date. I also want to start a new sweater for Sarah. She needs one for days when it is too warm for a coat but not warm enough for just a shirt. She's outgrown everything I made previous. I just bought long sleeved tops this past week for her, about 9 of them. She still needs skirts. I am going to try and make her a bunch of the frilly western style she seems to favor. I need to find some old jeans her size to use for the yoke and put fabric on the bottom. She loves those.

I'm working on my short stories for the Anthology and that is not getting enough attention. While doing that, I got a glimmer of an idea for NaNo, which as you all know, begins on November 1. The kickoff is Saturday afternoon. I just hope NaNo is productive. I so want to work on some other writing projects.

The photo at the top left is of a birthday card my friend Jilly, in England, sent me. She makes them and it is simply beautiful work. It is a nice surprise to know she was thinking of me. It will be a lonely day since I don't get to celebrate anymore. My birthday isn't until the 28th, but it will be nice to look up and see the card in my work area.

Mike remembered my birthday was coming, too. He bought me a Chromecast and gave it to me early, helping me set it up. I'd been talking about buying one because the current streamer I have is just very limited. With the Chromecast, I have all the media I could want and then some. I still don't have cable and don't need it. I have to say, when Mike has the money, he puts a lot of thought into gifts for me. I always like what he gets me.

 So, there you have a summary of my crazy week. I'm going to make a pot of chilli and chill with a book I think. I'm still so tired I can hardly sit here. Sue is coming tomorrow to clean my house. I'm just too sore and tired to bother. I'm hoping to get the whole place spick and span. Maybe for my birthday, I'll have a nice clean house and the pain will have gone by then.

A Full Bucket

I stole this video from my friend, Jessica Fry on Facebook. As I watched it, I realized how thankful I am that I was so blessed all my life. I was gifted a wonderful husband who took me around the world twice, who gave me two beautiful children and encouraged me to be what I wanted to be (a stay at home mom who got to  spend amazing fun days with my sons), who let me write in solitude and didn't complain, who was proud of who I was and gave me romance, laughter, and joy, and equal amounts of aggravation, frustration, and grief.

I got to see castles glowing in the dark on the mountains along the Rhein. I got to visit the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and Sacre Coeur. I rode trains, streetcars, and buses and saw cities I never dreamed of seeing. I've walked mountains in the Bavarian Alps. I have camped on the ground with no cot, camped in a tent that flooded, woke to tell time by the stars. I've ridden thousands of miles with my head on his lap while he drove us to new places. I lived in nice houses, warm, and secure in my husband's arms.

I tried to think what more I could have done or seen, or been and suddenly I realized I couldn't think of a single thing, not one. Yes, I have a bucket list unfinished. But were I to leave this world tomorrow, I have lived a life that I never thought, in my wildest imagination that I would live. I've done things beyond my own belief.

I was amazed by that. And humbled.

A Little Look at the Stats

I don't know why I'm fascinated by stats. I just am. I check statistics for all kinds of things, for no reason. I even have a folder of bookmarks on my computer called Statistics.

Yeah, I know, crazy. I don't even like math! I mean, do you want to know the current moon phase? Or how about last months phase on the same date? There's a link. Or how about calendars through the ages? Yeah, there's a link for that, too. Maybe your thing is time and temperature for the... whole world? Yep, I got a link. Unit conversion? Want to know how many of you there are in the country? There are 98 people with my name in the US. But there are 550 people with my oldest son's name and 498 people with my youngest son's name!

But what really shocks me is the blog stats page. For example, it concerns me a bit to know that 230 people in Russia clicked into my page in the last month. Why? Were they lost? Did a search engine redirect them in error? Of course, if I thought they came willingly I'd be flattered, really. But I don't think anyone really reads this blog but maybe 10 people. Now, I'm wondering if I should be concerned that over 800 people got lost here in the last month.

I've had people tell me that those numbers don't mean anything. So... why are they there? And why do they not match up with another page of Google uses for calculating stats: Google Analytics. Because they don't match. E-v-e-r.

Of course, they say it is really all about the bounce rate. They stumble into the room and say, Oh, pardon me," and stumble out. They don't read anything. Google even measures how long they stayed on the page. Which is pretty pointless to me since if they're not reading it, it doesn't matter and I didn't think anyone was reading anyway!

No, it is the numbers that baffle me, such as those for October 15th--69 people got lost on the internet and ended up on my blog. That's serious. That's just one day of the month! Are these the same people driving around the city? I think so.

I check in on the stats now and then just to get a jolt when I see the where people are wandering in from. Czech Republic? Really? +400 of you? Thank you. And +600 from China? I thought China was blocking all things Google? Were you trying to call your mom and stumbled in from your mobile browser?

I'll never know. Lost people remain silent. They don't ask directions and they don't tell people when they're lost. But, on the chance you came here on purpose, thank you.

This is what I do on Saturday nights, folks.

I know.

Waking Up

For the first time in nearly a month... no, three months, I feel almost normal. No chest congestion, no real coughing, voice has returned, although still husky sounding. I also have no pain but still have terrible fatigue, except today. I have no idea why but I'll take it.

I've spent the morning reading posts. I should have been "doing" but I didn't. So there. I am going to get to writing after lunch and I have a ton of other stuff I want to do. Because I know the energy won't last and the pain won't stay at bay.

I got the results of my CAT scan yesterday. Most will already have read it on the book of face. I still have one small nodule on the bottom of my right lung. There are no other nodules on either lung and it is probably not anything to worry about.. unofficially. I see the doctor on November 3rd. He will tell me if that is correct.

Was I ever worried? Actually, for about five minutes in the ER when they told me they found it. Then they told me RA can cause it. RA is my curse and therefore, I knew it probably was a benign nodule. Still one must be sure. Did I worry they've find more? That they'd be serious? I realized that I can't fix it. That if it was, and if there were there wasn't a single thing I could do that would undo, change, or fix it. So, I decided to ignore it. I asked people to pray about it, had prayer for it, and left it there.

I went for labs yesterday and got those back. My white count is still very low, 3.3. The acceptable range starts at 3. When I looked at the drop in the white count over time I noted it dropped from 5 to the very low range in August. That is when I got so sick with a cold, just after Sarah started school. She got very sick as well. She missed a week of school. For a child, that's pretty severe for a cold. I suspect my immune wasn't as good as her's because I was down with that thing two weeks and had to go on a Z-pac.

I'm still struggling with fatigue also. I'm going to have to start running a closer check on my blood sugars. I am wondering if I'm experiencing spikes. I got up this morning and felt pretty good, all things considered. I wasn't overly tired once I walked around and had coffee. By now, after I ate lunch, I got slammed and had to go to the recliner. I went to sleep and slept like a rock for two hours. I had a hard time waking, too. Once I was up, I felt o.k.

Yes, I'm still waiting on the sleep study. I was supposed to call today and forgot. I have a lot of stuff to follow up on tomorrow so I'll do it then.

Writing... very little. This is the first day I didn't really feel like I was half dead. As I said above, the cold has receeded.

I have a doctor's appointment on Thursday with my RA doc, at noon. I have one with my Primary care doctor on Friday at 9:45. That should fix me up for a bit. I have to close one of my savings accounts to pull the money from it for all these copays! $25 a pop and by Nov 3 I will have had 10 visits in 4 months. Got to stop this.

Ok, I think I'm done. Now, I'm going to get ready for bed. I began this early this morning... LOL, g'nite.

Crackers & Mayo

I have this memory from my childhood of standing on the sidewalk near home and thinking I wanted a snack. I went home and pulled out the Premium Saltine Crackers. That is the only kind Mama bought unless money was tight.  I also took out a jar of mayo and made "cracker sandwiches". Oh yes, I did.

This was a true southern snack that I suspect a lot of other southern children in those days enjoyed. I know my brother and I did and several of our friends.

Fifty years later, that memory is as clear as a digital photo. I can still see the sun shining and feel the sidewalk on my bare feet. The crackle of the cracker packet is loud as I open it. The mayo spreads smoothly over each cracker and I resist eating a single one until all my cracker sandwiches are made. Then, I scoop them up and head back outside where I sit on the steps and enjoy crackers with mayo. Yummm.

My sister recently found mini-Premium Saltine Crackers and Sarah just loves them. I was amused by them and the fact that my favorite snack was the normal sized ones. She was eating some one afternoon and I asked her had she ever eaten them with mayo on them. She responded with her typical "yuk". I got the jar of mayo from the cabinet and took one of her mini crackers. Using a spoon, I took a small amount of mayo (they are very mini) and covered the cracker. I was slammed 50 years back in time. It was wonderful.

Sarah watched with interest as I ate. After a moment, she said, "May I try a little of that?"

I made her one and she took a bite. When a person really falls in love it is instant and you can see it on their faces. Those tiny crackers and mayo were a hit. Since then, she's asked for this cracker snack a few times and we usually share the treat.

For her, it is different. She gets a handful of these tiny crackers on a plate, a spoon of mayo, and dips the cracker in the mayo like a chip.

For me, it is something very special to watch her enjoy it. I can't explain it well, but it is as if we've both stepped into the past in some way. I'm eight years old, sitting on the front steps, eating my cracker sandwiches and Sarah is sitting there with me dipping her crackers into the mayo. It is a sunny day and I can feel the wood steps beneath my bare feet. We both take a bite and close our eyes. Yummm.

Catching You Up On All the Chaos

I thought it might be a good idea to catch up with things here, in case someone actually reads it. I know a few do and they ask questions. So, I'll give you a quick rundown of what has been happening. First, medical updates, since I suspect that is of primary interest to those who are concerned.

Most of you know they found a nodule on the lower part of my right lung about three weeks ago. I went to see the pulmonologist last week and he is sending me for a CAT scan of my full chest area. He wants to see if I have other nodules. I suspect if I do, he's going to want to biopsy something. It makes sense to me. He is the same doctor that will do the sleep study but although that is the easiest thing to address, he didn't. So, I suspect, despite his calm demeanor and friendly attitude, that he's more concerned about the nodule than my lack of sleep. See how that works?


Oddly, I'm not feeling any stress over the nodule, at least, no consciously. When they first found it I sort of freaked but as I sat in the ER I realized, nothing I can do will fix this. Nothing will change the outcome. It is what it is and has been all along. They find what they find, do what they do.

I really wish he'd addressed the sleep apnea first. I suspect he figures if these nodules aren't benign, sleep apnea is the least of his worries. But it would be nice to get some good sleep.

I've ordered the Lyrica from the VA and am waiting on delivery.

I've had several days where I actually had the energy to do some things around the house. On Saturday, I had a cleaning lady in. Some of you may remember way back when I hired my son's former mother-in-law, Sue, to come in and clean for me. I've been saving here and there and I hired her this weekend. She said she'd do it for free but you know, that is a big job and I don't feel right not paying her. She took care of bathrooms, floors, the fridge, and I did laundry all day. I finally got all the wash done and put up. It felt great to see the last of that mess. When Sue was done my house was virtually spotless and smelled lovely. I still need to dust, but I'm doing that as I go now.

This morning I moved some things around and am going through books in preparation to giving some away to David's wife, Felicia. She likes mysteries and I have several that need to go.

For several days the last week I've had spurts of energy that allowed me to do a couple of things I needed to do. Lately, I've just decided if I have any energy at all, I better use it while I have it. So, gradually, those things that have been sitting around waiting for me to organize them and put them away are getting done.

I worked about three hours this morning moving a small bookcase and putting the books in it. I've mentioned before I want to get rid of my extremely large bookcase. Virtually all books are out of it now, but I've got some other things on it as a result of getting rid of the leviathan computer desk. My goal is to clean three closets out. I have clothes to get rid of and once that is done, I will be installing shelves in my smallest hall closet. The items on the bookcase will then be put away and the bookcase gone. It isn't much, actually, mostly games and some files. Anyway, I've got plans on what I want to do. I just need the energy to do it.

I've also been editing the stories for the local writing groups anthology. I'm about halfway done with those. I need to do a final edit of my own story so I can send it out to be edited by a friend. I can't very well do the final edits and hope to catch everything. I'm hoping it passes muster though because I don't have a second one to fall back on.

So, there you have it. If you think about praying for my lung issue, I'll appreciate it. I haven't asked people to do that. If that sounds odd, well, I can't explain it. Rheumatoid Arthritis is an assassin, lurking all over the body and eating away at the systems that keep you alive. It chops away at them one at a time, or maybe several at a time. It isn't just your joints he attacks. He enjoys liver, heart, lungs, kidneys, all sorts of things, in no particular order. He's rather unpredictable, as all good assassins. And I have no defense against him. I can't do anything about it. And I'm rather tired of looking. He can just go to hell. I'll do what I can do, as long as I can.

Up in the Air

I'm not one to welcome winter. My joints do not appreciate the cold, but that picture is so cozy and makes me want to sit by a fire and read a good book.

This morning, I got Sarah off to school and crashed in the recliner for two hours. I simply couldn't stay up. Tomorrow I go to the doctor about the nodule on my lung and to start testing for sleep apnea. One doesn't know what to hope for in these cases. Oh, the nodule is easy. I hope it is benign. I don't know what I'll do if it isn't. I haven't thought that far ahead. The sleep apnea, if I have it, means a machine I'll have to wear at night and lug around wherever I go, not that I go anywhere much these days. I'm kind of just not feeling anything at the moment about any of it.

I've had virtually no joint pain and now swelling. Just blinding, unrelenting fatigue. I managed to get to church yesterday and when I left I was exhausted, but I couldn't go to bed when I got home because I had Sarah here. She had a friend over and so I sort of dozed in the recliner, but I didn't dare sleep. She's very good, but I don't like people who sleep when young children are in the house.

I'm evaluating options. I have some decisions to make and I hate not having someone to sit down with and go over them. Making major decisions alone is not exciting or fun or even interesting. My inclination is to just toss everything into the air and whatever lands on the table is what I'll do. It seems as efficient a way of decision making as any.

This year seems to be going as bad as any I've had since Jerry died, at least in terms of my health. Of course, every year since 2009 had been one sort of hell or another. The first three years I'd really rather not repeat in any fashion and it is with a great deal of thanks that I have trouble remembering much of '09, '10, and 11. I have no idea what I was doing those years.

My only motivation for posting this today is just because I wanted to sit down and work my brain. I spent the early part of my day in a stupor and I hate it. I could have written several thousand words had my brain been operational. I have sent off my script for Lyrica and we'll see if that med makes any difference. Tomorrow, doctor appointments to deal with the other stuff. Now, I've got short stories to edit so I'm headed to the mine. Fortunately, I like editing.

Short Shift

Well, what is going on in my world? I've covered some of it here: Writing My Life Away and Rendered Praise. If you're truly interested, you can catch up. If you're not, it will save me having to recount it on this blog.

I spent most of today sitting in my house reading. I didn't really do anything, except maybe finish putting away almost all the laundry. If you read a bit on any of my blogs, you will find laundry is a problem for me. I seem to have an inordinate amount of laundry. I don't know why. We are clean, but I only do laundry once a week, generally on Saturday. I do sheets, towels, and our clothing. In theory, roughly three loads.

However, it seems Sarah has the most laundry but she's only 9 so I don't see how that can be. Wait, that isn't true. She wears a uniform to school. She changes when she comes in. So, two outfits a day would equal 11 changes of clothes a week. O.k. that could be it. Odd, it never occurred to me until just now. Really, it didn't. Must find a solution to that.

Today I did not do laundry. I had already done most of it earlier in the week. I only had one load of everything so yesterday, I tossed it all in together. I didn't care if there were towels with the undies. They will act as scrub brushes and scour any soil right out. And I only had one load to deal with.

The only thing left to put away is two weeks of sheet sets.

I don't care. I hate sheets.

I've been working on the Ocean Sunset afghan again. I picked up some more yarn earlier this week. (See above blogs). I realized I was short of one color. I was not well enough the last week to work on it but one day this week, and I knew I was short, which acts as a damper. So, I went to JoAnn's and got the yarn and worked on it some last night. This thing is just beautiful and I'm going to be sorry to give it away. Alas, I didn't start it for myself. I realized recently I haven't made myself any crocheted items but dish cloths. Very practical girl, I am. There is something wrong with that. Nah, I just love giving the pretty things to people I love.

So, now I'm off. This post will be short tonight. I'm tired and have some reading to do so I'm ending here. Church tomorrow.

Update to Medical Woes

Courtesy Pixabay.com

I received an email from my RA doctor in reply to one I sent with concerns about the increase in pain I've been having over the weekend and the possibility of prednisone when I reduce my the methotrexate dosage this week. 

If you're behind in that news you're not on my Facebook page. I've had a problem with high liver enzymes and low white count. I have to reduce my methotrexate to try and get those numbers reversed. I'm at high risk of infection at the moment. So, when I got the most recent lab work, I got an email from her to which I sent my question, "What do I do about joint swelling and pain when I reduce the metho?" I asked if prednisone was a temporary solution. On top of everything else, over the weekend I woke up in agony with pain in every part of my body that has hung on for a couple of days. 

Here is her overall response. 

1. The overall pain I described is probably a fibromyalgia flare & prednisone would not help that. (In the first place I was referring to my reducing my metho and using that to help with the joint swelling and pain. Never mind....)

2. She suggests Lyrica for the fibro pain. (Now, I've asked about Lyrica for 10 years. They would never prescribe it for me and for a long time even the insurance wouldn't cover it. Too many side effects for too little return was the interpretation I got from it. But now, as I interpret it, we are out of options so here, try this!)

3. I'm to continue to take Doxepin every night (a really adequate medicine for certain kinds of pain) for the next week or so. (I've taken it the last several nights. I'm sleeping but not as much as I want/need to sleep.) 

Now, if it is a fibro flare, which is likely, it is the worst one I've ever had. The doxepin has very few side-effects but over time I get emotional/mood symptoms I do not like. When I've needed it, I usually take it every other night for a few weeks and stop. Taking it every night is not something I relish. Since I'm prone to depression, I don't go there voluntarily.

No way to know what I'll be dealing with once I reduce the metho. NO alternative suggested at this point. Maybe she's waiting until it happens.

To fair to my doctors, I'm not a compliant patient. I frequently refuse to take things they say are good for me. I also refuse to increase dosages at their suggestions. My theory is that if a low does works, why take a high dose. I'm glad I did that with the metho. If it is causing the problem with my white cell count, I'm glad I refused to go straight to the injections as they suggested. I insisted on a slow increase in the dose over time to see if we reached a lower dose that worked. I shudder to think what would have happened and how much sooner it would have happened. 

There you have it -- the lastest from my medical experts and my opinions.

The Price of Praise

Rendered Praise

See, I made this challenge for myself on my Rendered Praise blog. I had the idea for it in the middle of the night and figured why not. I write a bunch of stuff anyway, so make it worthwhile.

As soon as I begin, I realized it was the right thing to do. It felt right. It went so smoothly that I was able to do a post ahead. This helps if I'm having a pain filled day and I can't write. I won't miss a post. I find I like being a day ahead on something. In theory, this could be a post for that blog, but since the next ten days of Render Praise are devoted to praise, it wouldn't work. Since I constantly whine here, this works.

As with any project I've ever done for God, and that whole blog is directed to Him, there are rewards and penalties. The reward is that I like the more positive feelings it has evoked. I find I'm thinking of new ways to give praise instead of focusing on what is "wrong" and things to complain about. No, this won't save me nor make me perfect. It doesn't mean I'm more special than anyone else. I just feel better in my brain.

Of course, I mentioned penalties, too. The first penalty I've experienced is the meltdown I had today while doing the next post. I have no explanation for it. I just fell apart in the middle of writing and had to walk away. I came back once I'd regained some control and finished it, but I'm not exactly "right" at the moment. There is an edge to the afternoon that cuts each time my thoughts move in specific directions. Even writing this post is a challenge to my body and mind. I'm exhausted and feel as if I've hit bottom. I'm not sorry I made the challenge nor do I want to quit.

I've always known that praise is an empowering item. There is a book by a guy named Merlin Carouthers, who wrote Power in Praise. If you've never read him, I would encourage you to find a copy of the book and read it. He also wrote Prison to Praise, equally good. If you want a life-altering perspective of praise he provides it. I read it nearly 40 years ago and I've not forgotten his name or the name of the book. The truth is, praise is the only life saver you have. It doesn't mean you have to jump up and down or run around the block. These are impossible for me now with my hips, knees, and feet feeling broken most of the time. You don't have to scream, cry, or use a bullhorn. Praise is not just a way of talking. Praise is a way of thinking.

You may be sick and everyone who looks at you may think you're dying. You may be wracked in pain and unable to move without hurting. Praise can be uttered anytime, anywhere, under any circumstances. If someone thinks the only place you can praise is in church, in a certain manner -- they're wrong. David wrote dozens of Psalms while watching sheep, surely the loneliest job in the world.

Paul and Silas were alone in the deepest part of the jail to ensure they couldn't escape and their only companion was the jail keeper. They were not comfortable. Yet, they sang and praised God. Not because they were happy or excited. There was no church music, no praise team, no congregation to pump them up. Have you ever seen a real dungeon? Can you picture the smell of filthy bodies, rotting food, human excrement? I suspect in some part of their mind, the knew they had to do something to get their mind off their situation. We've all been there. It is why we crank up the stereo so loud the neighbors have their heads out the windows considering calling the police. Or we load up on our drug of choice. It is because want to think about something else. We're not interested in praising God in the the middle of our mess.

Jeremiah, one of my favorite prophets, was up to his armpits in mud when he came up with one of the most comforting praise passages for grief-stricken widows I've ever read, anywhere. It is marked in my Bible in red with a pink bookmark. I've read it hundreds of times in the last six and a half years. It always makes me cry uncontrollably. Why would I read it? Because someone understood what I feel in ways I never thought possible and they are able to tell me how great God is in the middle of it all. And I want to know that.

I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon. 

Thou hast heard my voice: hide not thine ear at my breathing, at my cry. 

Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon thee: thou saidst, 

Fear not. O Lord, thou hast pleaded the causes of my soul; thou hast redeemed my life.

So, even in isolation, it is possible to simply praise God for being. And despite the penalties, I'll do my 10 Days of Praise. I suspect other penalties may be waiting, but I won't borrow from tomorrow that which will be here soon enough. Instead, I'll just think about how I can give Him more praise today.

Wednesday Wonder - Just Me

Monday, Monday

Never let it be said that all Monday's are created equal. Last Monday was an awesome day. This Monday, not so much. Sarah was up until midnight with a belly ache and I had to get her into her doctor this morning, bright and early. I came home, after dropping her off at school, because bellyaches only occur at night. I know this is true because I had the same thing last week.

Anyway, on my return I had a raging headache. I had to take a pill for it and spent the rest of the day in the recliner, checking the phone now and then for emails, which I then had to answer. Sometime after two or three I think the headache was better, but my neck and upper left back feel as if I've been beaten with a bat. I used my tennis ball, but the pain in the trap was so bad, the ball hurt. Using the ball on the right side of my back told the tale. It didn't hurt and it felt good to roll the tennis ball along the muscle.

Sarah came in from school and when I asked her if she got in trouble today she danced around the question for five minutes. She thought I had seen her Class Dojo (message system between parents and teachers). Joke was on her - I had not. She finally told me why she got in trouble. She had talked during class and lost a point. I grounded her for the rest of the week and took her tablet, which she may not get back for some time. This was the second time in a week she's felt the need to chat on the job. The last time she was grounded for a day. I informed her that since she felt it was crucial to talk when she should have been working, she could do her school work this week when she'd normally be talking to her friends or playing.

So, for the next week she will be doing math worksheets, extra ones instead of games, toys, and friends. To give her credit, she didn't complain after the first 20 minutes, during which time I had to endure whining, complaining. and bemoaning the fact that she didn't know how to do math. She's in the 3rd grade. She knows.  She finally figured out that I was serious and nothing was going to change. Then she blew the subtraction. Badly. She'll have it down in a few weeks but at the moment it is her nemesis.

I wonder who actually gets punished when kids are grounded? I never believe in grounding. Never got grounded in my life. I got spanked but not a lot. The key to spankings is that you learn not to do the things that get you spanked. There were consequences. So, I followed the rules and as a result, my life was relatively simple and straightforward. Despite an alcoholic parent, I didn't starve, feel deprived, or suffer neglect. I had a large extended family and we had great times. I was clothed, housed, gifted, loved, and spanked. Amazing that well that turned out for me.  I'm eternally grateful.

I didn't have to ground the boys much. On the rare occasions they got in trouble, they got spankings. Which, incidentally didn't kill them, crush their spirit, or make them impotent. They were just as sassy afterward as before. And we had great fun during their youth. They never got arrested for criminal behavior. Never attacked old ladies on the street. Never raped, murdered, or robbed anyone. Cause Mama was waiting home with a paddle and feared neither police, judge, or CPS. And if you wanted to come home, you better keep your nose clean and keep a civil tongue in your mouth. If you can't don't let the door hit in the butt you on the way out.  The one time Mike threatened to call the police if I spanked him, he was 10 or 11, and I walked over, picked up the phone. I looked him dead in the face and said with no trace of a smile, "Would you like me to dial it for you?" He never did that again.

Sarah is a different child. She's fairly easy going. She does her things, I do mine. The trouble comes in when she is forced to remember that I'm the adult and she's the child. She's confused by that, I think. I'm Mawmaw. I'm fun. I'm silly. I'm kisses, hugs, and giggles. I'm not the stern old lady who has a paddle and isn't afraid to use it. I'm not the woman who glares at her when she gets sassy. I've rarely glared at the child more than half-dozen times in her life! That woman she doesn't get. Until she does. Then she is as good as gold. Has she fooled me? Sometimes she thinks she has, but not usually. As the sister of six, mother of two, and aunt to a few more there isn't much that fools me.

At the moment, she's got another stomachache. It is bedtime of course. And she didn't eat the supper I gave her at 6. So, of course, she's starving and that's why her belly hurts. And it probably does. I've fed her but I've given her a promise, something every child who has ever lived in this house knows I only do with the gravest of intentions, that at 6:30 a.m. she will get one wake up call. If she fails to answer that call promptly, there will be consequences. I hope she knows I mean it.

Now, it is my turn  to go to bed. I've had enough. I have a long day tomorrow.

The Gift of a Day

I was going to post yesterday, but it was such an astounding, awesome, and amazing day that I simply didn't have time. 

If you've been keeping up, you know that I've been sick for a while, especially the last week. I even had to go to the ER last Saturday night with stomach problems. They did a CAT scan of my abdomen and found a nodule on my lung. Lab work revealed low potassium. I went in for a stomach ache. 

Well, yesterday when I got up, I felt as if I'd stepped into someone else's shoes. I wasn't sick, didn't hurt, and had all this energy. I had no idea why but I ran with it.

Sarah and I were up at 6:30 and I got her on the bus by 7:45. I dressed and headed to the cemetery to walk. This would be my first walk since Spring. I managed to get 1.2 miles but that was all I could do. My left leg, hip, and ankle were bothering me by then. 

I came home and got to work. First I spent about an hour on reading my Bible and devotional. I haven't done that for a while because reading anything was like walking in a fog bank and I was just too sick to sit up.

I started folding the three weeks worth of towels and sheets that were piled on the spare bed. I piled the three weeks of street clothes on my bed to force me to deal with it before bedtime. I had no idea at this point how long the energy burst would last.

For the rest of the afternoon this is how it went: I folded the sheets and towels while watching television. While I was busy with that, I also washed and dried three loads of new laundry. I folded another load of sheets and towels from this week. Then, I worked on my new crochet project, which you see above. I wasn't sure about pattern and structure but finally decided on rows using the Lacy Wave Stitch from my favored book. I like these colors together. I thought about adding a mint green to it but decided not to. 

I think I'll call it Ocean Sunset. The colors in the photo are very close to the real colors. This is another gift. I love doing crochet for others. I rarely do any projects for myself. I was going to buy new yarn but realized I had this yarn in my stash. I will probably have to buy some more blue, but that's cheaper than the +$30 it was going to cost for new yarn. However, the yarn I saw in the store is really pretty.

Hobby Lobby has a HUGE selection of yarns and has now become my supplier of choice. It takes 6-8 skeins to do a useful throw/afghan. If you want a blanket size afghan, you will probably need twice that. Depending on the kind of yarn used, a skein can cost $3.00-$7.00, some even more. This means a crocheter can sink a lot of money into one project.  The yarn plus man hours involved mean a typical afghan could have a monetary value starting at $100. If could be higher, depending on the size and complication of the item. A set of 4 of my cozies would cost in yarn and man hours around $30, not including the hard coaster inserts. So, if someone gives you a gift of a crochet item, any item, it isn't a cheap gift. 

I digress, of course. I crocheted an hour or so, until Sarah got home at 3:45. By then the only laundry left was on my bed. Sarah and I worked on homework for an hour, she kicking and screaming all the way. Then we worked on preparing supper. She helped quite a lot with this project. Setting the table, putting ice in the glasses. Her doll, Abby (formerly Isabella) joined us with a meal of her own. Once that was done, I did dishes and Sarah, who was grounded from everything for the homework fiasco, played in her room before getting a bath. 

Around 7 I realized I'd used up all my spoons. For the uninformed, this means I was running on empty. I called Sarah in and we attacked the clothes on my bed. I had already put my things away before calling her. Now she put her clothes on hangers, folded her shorts and underwear, and helped me put them away. By 8 p.m. she was tucked in her bed and out like a light. I should ground her more often. Of course, she was so tired because the night before it was midnight before she went to sleep. So, after getting up at 6:30, by 8 p.m. she was obliterated. 

I slumped on the sofa watching television and giving myself time to wind down from an extremely busy day. I stopped for a few minutes to tell God how very thankful I was for the day. It was the first time I felt like ME in a very long time.

Today... I won't be walking or doing laundry. I'll be doing bank statements. Oh, joy. . .