Observation

4 Oct

The last few weeks have found me shopping for jeans and bargains. And for some unknown reason I became the proud owner of a low-rise skinny jean. Don’t get me wrong, I love the skinny part. My bony legs aren’t handling boot cut well at all. But low-rise? Whatever possessed me? I really hope they were cheap.

I wore said jeans to do the weekend errands this morning. And let me tell you, they annoyed the hell out of my granny panties.

Lesson learned.

Long time, no see

1 Jul

Much has happened since last I visited.

I’ve lost nearly 50 pounds.

I’ve become a grandmother to baby Zoe.

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She was born on the day of the summer solstice, June 21, weighing 9 pounds and 2 ounces with a full head of dark hair that is tipped in gold. Her mother labored hard for 30 hours and was finally wheeled in for a Cesarean as Baby Zoe was found to be sunny side up.

Mamacita was so brave.

Mother and Child

Mother and Child

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She makes sweet little puppy noises.

I have fervently been seeking gainful employment and only within the last two or three weeks has my resume received attention from potential employers.

I have taken a part-time job at a movie theatre. Orientation begins tomorrow evening. The smell of popcorn will kill me. The free movies will amuse me.

A fog of depression has settled over me. Good thing I’m medicated for that, huh?

And I fell into TV binge watching, lying on the sofa with poor little Peanut snuggled up to me and Molly and Bun rotating at my feet.

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I’ve collected patterns and boxes of things to do and they sit and wait for that spark of desire to do.

And rain falls and sun shines and the work of our lives continues to favor of the rich.

And five old white men have set women’s rights back decades.

And one elderly, smart lady named Ginsberg got it right in her dissent.

And the vibrant black man who is the president is being suffocated by a congress of idiots who call themselves tea party-ers and Republicans.

So, in reality, some things haven’t changed much at all.

 

A Little Bit of Fiction, Catching Up

1 Apr

The cardinal landing was hypnotic. She watched as he pecked at the block of suet she had placed in the cage feeder. Her worries departed. Her shoulders relaxed. She knew he would be her companion for the remainder of warm weather. He would appear in the window. His presence would calm her. She would watch as he adapted to a swaying limb. She would watch as he found his mate and brought her home. Perhaps she would find hers this spring. Perhaps she would continue to enjoy her solitude, independence, friends and family. She looked down at the book in her hands. Her life was full. She wondered again why she thought of taking a mate. Ah, the Mother would know best. She would leave it to Mother Nature. It just seemed the thing to do. She sighed mightily, stretched and smiled; opened her book anew. Life was good.

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 The past weeks have gone by in a haze of laziness and ennui. I really haven’t been paying attention. Entertaining myself with a movie, House of Cards, prepping for tax filing, having the roof estimate done, having it done again, and now for a third time this week, hasn’t been motivational in the least. I haven’t written much of anything, although I did organize my notes and ‘heard’ a few bits of dialogue that I jotted down for future reference.

 I haven’t found a job. I have designed a new reusable bag. The fabric is on the way and the prototype can be made. Let’s hope I don’t put it off. They need to go into the Etsy shop. And I need to promote the shop.

 I still want to sleep; just sleep. My appetite has certainly been suppressed. Perhaps the lower caloric intake is interfering with my energy level. I have moved on the next phase, albeit a bit too soon. Even with the surgery, one or two tablespoons of food per meal are not quite realistic for me. Carbohydrates are still a problem. Still taking 15 units of basal insulin twice a day, but BG is staying mostly within normal parameters.

 I really miss cola.

 Enough about that. It seems to be working.

 Spring is springing up! The hyacinths have bloomed and the stargazer lilies have appeared above the ground. The magnolia has blooms on it and so does one of the weeping cherries. I hope the other hasn’t become water-logged. The ground is saturated. I went to the barn last Friday to work on shelving for a bedroom and nearly busted butt in the mud. Left that for another day!

 I am soooooo ready to open the pool. The spousal unit says wait. The water will probably be cold till June. That’s disappointing.

But life is good and I’m looking forward to a couple of weekends away. Hope my smaller clothes fit. Have to go to the attic and check. What fun! Shopping in the attic.

 

 

Sunday Morning

16 Mar

This has been a much better morning. Shower nearly wore me out, but soreness is vastly improved!

I’m under the impression the multitude of directions you are given to follow in the wake of surgery is not working well for me. Too many restrictions for this random woman. So this morning I chose to just figure it out. We’ll see how that works.

I’ve not been getting enough nutrition trying to follow the clock and the sip this, stop, sip that, stop, wait, eat this, wait, sip that. So I poured a full bottle of protein drink into my perfect Contigo cup which will hold the chill for hours and I’m working on it. I need two of these a day, for 60 grams of protein which should be my minimum. I’ll worry about the rest of it as I can.

Smell is a problem. Bob cooked an Italian red sauce for himself yesterday and the garlic nearly drove me to the barn. The smell and taste of vitamins is awful. And I need breath mints in a bad way. Guess all this internal change has kept the buffalos stomping through my mouth in a big way.

I’m dreaming of the creamy peanut butter and whole grain crackers I can add on Wednesday. I’m not going to try the cream soups and such on this portion of the plan again. I’ll stick to SF Jello and Pudding and Yogurt. Maybe oatmeal again. Adding cinnamon makes it tasty.

Wednesday is the goal for just a bit of regular food. Yippee. oh Yippee.

If you are considering this sort of surgery, or know someone who might benefit from it, please know that it should not be entered into lightly. I have had the support of my husband, who actually recommended it. I’ve had a friend to question. I’ve done the research.  On this, Day 4, I’m thinking I might survive, perhaps thrive. I’m hoping for increased energy, less pain, no more insulin needles, and a longer life. Desperate measure…

I think I will journal here about this for a while. Perhaps I can help another.

Journey Forward

15 Mar

The third day after gastric bypass was a bit ruff. Very sore. Nothing tastes right except water and I can’t get the joy of a huge glass taken down. It’s frustrating. And I had a moment today when I questioned the decision. Time heals. I’m impatient. Thursday, I jumped up and did my walking in the halls with a vengeance, seeking to overachieve and go home ASAP.

Must remember that patience is a virtue and that my BG levels are going down. Of course I haven’t taken in any calories to speak of yet.

Time. Time can be a real friend or a horrible foe.

Today’s Weirdness

7 Mar

In a stunning turn of events Tuesday, I am back on solid food.

My BMI is borderline in qualifying for bariatric surgery. I cannot lose too much weight before being checked into the hospital. I was losing too much on liquids.

This is really weird. I’ve struggled fifty plus years with my weight and find myself needing to maintain it, not lose it. Now that is an irony.

I hope this works. I so hope my diabetes resolves.I keep repeating myself.

Of course, my age and the length of time I’ve been diabetic are not in my favor, but that chance, that small chance is enough. I have much to live for. After all I haven’t finished Season 2 of House of Cards! And Game of Thrones is coming up in April. And there are stories to write and hats to knit and gardens to tend.

And there is that first granddaughter coming up in June. So far my daughter hasn’t committed to a name for this beautiful child. So, I just keep referring to her as ‘Zoe’.

Wednesday, I bought Zoe’s first hat. My closet is full of hats and I can’t wait to play dress-up with her.

And it was a very productive day. Resume updated. Check. Unemployment filed. Check. Resume dropped at clinic looking for receptionist. Check. Banking done. Check. Stop at Sephora inside Penney’s to pick up exhausted facial products. Check. (New Zoe outfit too!) RX filled and picked up. Check.

And so Thursday and today we continue the reorganization of Zach’s room. Really need to finish this by Sunday, with two weeks of moderate lifting and recovery coming up!

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If you need to know how compromised our society and government is, look no further than the Oversight Committee meeting this wee, chaired by Republican Congressman Darrell Issa and including ranking member, Democrat Congressman Elijah Cummings.

Issa closed the proceedings and cut Cummings microphone.  Cummings was not happy. Personally, I would have pitched a bitch fit over that one.

Issa’s action was appalling on so many levels.

And now, apparently, he has given a back-handed apology. I don’t think it’s an apology if you then claim the person you are apologizing to ‘staged’ the confrontation.

Really? How would Cummings know before-hand you were gonna shut him down?

Rude, presumptuous, disrespectful behavior. It is an epidemic. And this ‘my way, or the highway’ attitude is beyond unhelpful.

I wish someone would explain to me why anyone would be so dedicated to an ideology, so inclined to hear only one side of an issue, so reticent to research the agenda of those with the money behind the mouths, so convinced they are ‘right’, that they are willing to sacrifice the poor, the elderly, and the sick.

You hate Obamacare. So construct a solution to this health-business crisis in America. And never doubt, it is business in America, not care.

You hate the debt. Then stop waging war and making the 1% richer. Stop giving the wealthy a tax-free ride. They should pay more, they make more and they don’t seem inclined to voluntarily help those who help them.  Stop allowing corporations to dictate legislation. Stop allowing U.S. business to sell in the U.S. if they move their jobs overseas.

You want jobs? Two thoughts: clean energy and infrastructure. Stop giving your tax dollars to the oil and natural gas industry and demand they spend some of the billions of dollars of profit they see each year on clean energy. They will still make money.

You think abortion is immoral. Then don’t get one.

You want to reverse Roe v. Wade? Get over it.  You send young people to war to die. Isn’t that rather hypocritical?

And stop voting for those who are targeting your emotions. Vote with your head.

Sanctimonious moralists!

Here’s the rub. Some of those sanctimonious moralists are friends.

And so I will keep repeating my political mantra: I will defend your rights. Will you defend mine?

Perhaps one day, those friends will understand.

Day Seven

4 Mar

As most of you know, I am planning gastric bypass surgery in hopes of resolving my Type 2 Diabetes.

Today is Day 7 of the pre-op liquid diet. It is supplemented by cream soups and hot cereals.

This morning I awoke with my right arm stuck between my teeth.

I hadn’t drawn blood yet. Lucky me.

I stumbled into the kitchen and made coffee. Oh, that too sweet coffee  is liquid and Coffeemate makes an approved additive.

I whimpered over that first cup for a few minutes.

It could have been an internal, stomach(?),  whimpering.

I flipped on the TV and Morning Joe.

Morning Joe.

And what is the first thing to besiege my eyes? Could it be? Say it isn’t so. A commercial? An On The Border, unlimited enchilada commercial? Really? Now? After having tried to consume my own arm?

Oh what torture is this?

It was a train wreck. I couldn’t look away. Eyes glazed, torpor befell me and I stood.

I cannot say how I came to be in front of the tv.

Nor, can I say how it came to pass that, hands planted on the mantel, I regained my senses and found myself licking the screen.

I may have to go back to sleep. Finish the arm.

Monday, madness, and moving on

3 Mar

It’s Monday.

It’s gloomy outside and cold and light flakes of snow are falling.

There are a few birds twittering among the still leafless branches of the walnut trees.

There is a dog whining at my elbow.

The spousal unit brought me a present this morning. I don’t know why. He is so filled with hate and anger. All of it seems to be directed at my loss of employment and my son. We are preventing him from retiring.

Bi-polar disorder affects the patient and his family. It is a horrible illness to live with, made worse if the patient refuses treatment for underlying issues.

 

I am sad. I am happy. I worry. I leave it to the universe to sort out.

It IS what it IS.

I am hungry for real food after five days of liquids and hot cereal. I’ve lost 6 pounds. Not an ideal situation for the gastric bypass and my borderline status for qualifying.

 

I am hungry to finish something begun long ago.

Yet I struggle, even as a senior, to overcome ennui and a paralysis I cannot identify.

Fear of failure? Long ago dreams never honored.

Perennial optimism shrouds bone-weariness.

 

There is a roof to repair.

A bathroom requires propping up from beneath.

There is a fence line to clear.

This house truly is a money pit.

Perhaps it’s time to let it go, this place I’ve called home for over half a century.

Is that even possible?

 

I will open the notes. I will open my mind.

I will finish the outline.

I will fashion a new chapter in this life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Obits and daffodils

24 Feb

The daffs under the pecan tree are up and blooming. That first sign of spring is certainly welcome this year. I’ve been too cold and damp this winter. Ready to move on!
We’ve become obsessed with ladybugs on baby clothing. And shopping pink aha become a crazy pastime. Little Zoe Kaitlyn Ella Grace Adeline is going to have an outfit for every day.
We’ve been told it is time to switch to diaper hoarding.
And I have scheduled the gastric bypass surgery for March 12. Wednesday begins two weeks of liquid diet in preparation. Oh, I can also have fruit smoothies, oatmeal, grits, and cream of wheat. Think I’ll go for a box of donuts, a couple of pork chops and a German chocolate cake tomorrow as a prequel to deprivation.
My friend Patty said she was ready to lick the pavement.
Think I’ll try meditating over the daffodils.

Gigging a hint of fiction

13 Feb

Love and Promise

She gazed at Jace. Her feelings plain on her face. She would die for him.

Her love was so great her heart nearly burst with it.

He looked up and into her eyes. He saw her depth of affection, her commitment.

I love you, Essa. You know I do. He said.

He seemed somewhat aggrieved. She didn’t really understand.

He sighed and reached for her.

I just want you to stop pooping on the floor. He muttered.

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