Life has been undocumentable. I have not been able to talk about some of what is going on and have been too busy to document the rest.
Here is my thought for the holidays thanks to the sabbath prayer book
Days pass and the years vanish and we walk sightless among miracles.
Lord, fill our eyes with seeing and our minds with knowing. Let there
be moments when your Presence, like lightning, illumines the darkness in
which we walk. Help us to see, wherever we gaze, that the bush burns,
unconsumed. And we, clay touched by God, will reach out for holiness and
exclaim in wonder, “How filled with awe is this place and we did not
know it.”
If I can sum up the last year in any way at all, this is it
Monday, December 3, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
What is mine
This morning after the usual waking rituals of tea, breakfast and morning talk, I went to the next ritual of get dressed. I noticed myself carefully picking up my bed clothes, folding them and putting them in the dresser that is my space. Then I thought about why.
In my house and life with Mr Footless I next to never did this. In that place and time I did not pick up and put away, sort, gather, or throw away. the house reflected this in a disordered mess that was both infuriating and very comforting. It was mine and therefore I could put it away or not. So I didn't.
In the places that I have been living over the last months, I have tried to be very very respectful of the shelter that I have been offered. So why?
I seem to have a very deeply ingrained sense of mine and thine. The training of don't touch what isn't yours has been written inside my head with a flaming sword.
Well, I have lived in places all my life that were not mine. The only place that has been mine as in I bought it I take care of it it is mine has been shared with Mr Footless and his sense of space made having space to myself that I could order or not as I chose difficult or impossible as his disorders and pain have gotten greater and more uncontrollable over the last years.
Suddenly I sit here with tears in my eyes and a sense of dislocation and loss. I have no place I call mine to lay my head, to keep my things.
Every day I must be so careful not to trespass on the space and ownership of the very kind people that have generously given me a place to stay.
Every day I have it in my lap that I am here because I can't go back to live in a place with such insanity in residence.
What has me in tears is the strong awareness that All of my life I have felt that I had to toe that line. Inspite of all the kindness I have had showered on me I feel a burden and unwelcome, intrusive and unable to avoid intruding.
It's a broken place and I can't see how to mend it.
In my house and life with Mr Footless I next to never did this. In that place and time I did not pick up and put away, sort, gather, or throw away. the house reflected this in a disordered mess that was both infuriating and very comforting. It was mine and therefore I could put it away or not. So I didn't.
In the places that I have been living over the last months, I have tried to be very very respectful of the shelter that I have been offered. So why?
I seem to have a very deeply ingrained sense of mine and thine. The training of don't touch what isn't yours has been written inside my head with a flaming sword.
Well, I have lived in places all my life that were not mine. The only place that has been mine as in I bought it I take care of it it is mine has been shared with Mr Footless and his sense of space made having space to myself that I could order or not as I chose difficult or impossible as his disorders and pain have gotten greater and more uncontrollable over the last years.
Suddenly I sit here with tears in my eyes and a sense of dislocation and loss. I have no place I call mine to lay my head, to keep my things.
Every day I must be so careful not to trespass on the space and ownership of the very kind people that have generously given me a place to stay.
Every day I have it in my lap that I am here because I can't go back to live in a place with such insanity in residence.
What has me in tears is the strong awareness that All of my life I have felt that I had to toe that line. Inspite of all the kindness I have had showered on me I feel a burden and unwelcome, intrusive and unable to avoid intruding.
It's a broken place and I can't see how to mend it.
Monday, October 8, 2012
A resting place on the road
dear Aunt Ruth,
this is a day to take a breath and then get on with whatever life has in store for me next.
I have moved on from my one friend's house. I spent an uncomfortable few days living in my office, Something that Dad thought might be a good idea. Trust me, sleeping in a Doctor's office has a lot in the down side. Like scaring the cleaning crew who likewise scared the heck out of me by popping into my room and turning on the overhead light at 2 AM. Massage tables are not good places to get a great night's sleep. They are high, hard and creak loudly when you turn over.
This week I am staying with another good friend while her spouse is out of town. This has been planned for a long time, so it was on the schedule no matter what had happened. I am very grateful for the shelter, She has been a good friend for a long time.
I still feel very sad. I realize that I am deeply homesick for Mr Footless as he was in the past. He has not been the person that I miss for a long time, and when we are in contact I keep looking at him and wondering "who are you, and what did you do with my husband?"
I also miss a house that I wanted and never had.
Mr Footless is not doing well. I think that managing on his own is more difficult than he would admit.
Among the things he has offered me as (I think) some sort of bait to come home is the great privilege of cleaning out the refrigerator. Just so long as I leave his Mountain Dew alone. Oh and he wants to pass judgement on what gets thrown out.
I pass.
I have no real idea what my next housing solution will be. My good friend is enjoying my presence here. She has mentioned negotiating rent and having me stay for a more extended length of time. Time will tell.
Say hello to Uncle Bill and Uncle Jim and tell them I miss them.
Dances
this is a day to take a breath and then get on with whatever life has in store for me next.
I have moved on from my one friend's house. I spent an uncomfortable few days living in my office, Something that Dad thought might be a good idea. Trust me, sleeping in a Doctor's office has a lot in the down side. Like scaring the cleaning crew who likewise scared the heck out of me by popping into my room and turning on the overhead light at 2 AM. Massage tables are not good places to get a great night's sleep. They are high, hard and creak loudly when you turn over.
This week I am staying with another good friend while her spouse is out of town. This has been planned for a long time, so it was on the schedule no matter what had happened. I am very grateful for the shelter, She has been a good friend for a long time.
I still feel very sad. I realize that I am deeply homesick for Mr Footless as he was in the past. He has not been the person that I miss for a long time, and when we are in contact I keep looking at him and wondering "who are you, and what did you do with my husband?"
I also miss a house that I wanted and never had.
Mr Footless is not doing well. I think that managing on his own is more difficult than he would admit.
Among the things he has offered me as (I think) some sort of bait to come home is the great privilege of cleaning out the refrigerator. Just so long as I leave his Mountain Dew alone. Oh and he wants to pass judgement on what gets thrown out.
I pass.
I have no real idea what my next housing solution will be. My good friend is enjoying my presence here. She has mentioned negotiating rent and having me stay for a more extended length of time. Time will tell.
Say hello to Uncle Bill and Uncle Jim and tell them I miss them.
Dances
Sunday, September 30, 2012
moving along
I am finally back in a place with access to my own computer, so I can post more regularly.
I have moved to my office as my sleeping place. My friend needed her house to her self and I had been there for a very long time (six weeks)
I am after all paying an exorbitant amount for the privilege of an office in a Doctors office. I need to find a cheaper space, meantime it is paid for. It has a shower. It is private. it has heating and cooling, a refrigerator and a microwave. I will be over at another house next week.Right now it has what I need to make it work.
seven months to housing.
I have moved to my office as my sleeping place. My friend needed her house to her self and I had been there for a very long time (six weeks)
I am after all paying an exorbitant amount for the privilege of an office in a Doctors office. I need to find a cheaper space, meantime it is paid for. It has a shower. It is private. it has heating and cooling, a refrigerator and a microwave. I will be over at another house next week.Right now it has what I need to make it work.
seven months to housing.
Friday, September 14, 2012
slightly dizzy but still standing
Dear Aunt Ruth,
It's been a while since I was able to post here. I have been staying with a friend for the past few weeks. The past week has been one where I was house sitting her place. She has a lovely elderly kitty who has accepted me as the dispenser of good things and I am looking at what happens next.
I went back to the house to get another load of things I need to be comfortable. At that time Mr Footless was still in a state of rage and focusing on his muddled idea that somehow I had drained his bank account and was intent on doing him down. I brought a friend along to help. The help asked being her standing around while I grabbed what I needed because she is the most verbally abusive person I have among my friends and Mr Footless is a bit intimidated by her. I picked up my bike, more clothes, my sock yarn and the computer. Somehow the fact of having the yarn has been a great stabilizer for my sense of well being. I have had a lot more calm ever since.
Mr Footless is still in residence at the house. He has finally stopped raging and has begun asking what would make it OK for me to move back in. I am too aware that after the rage comes the sweet talk to yo yo me back in. He has offered to have me come back with some promises of how I could have exactly what I had before. I am not interested in that, that's what I walked out on. I have lost everything I could lose in this situation so I can ask for whatever I want and I know how that works.
At present I have filled out forms for housing. The wait lists run from three months to seven years so I need a temporary nest while waiting for a permanent nest. It is possible that there might be a temporary place but it is nebulous at present.
I am praying and doing my best to stay open for all things possible. I had one piece of inspiration that had nothing to do with anything that I have been struggling with. The last time I had one like this was during the horrible custody battle and it was the direction to learn to spin. Well a lot that was wonderful came of that one, including a network of friends and a whole lot of socks.
I will be following up on this one, it has to do with music, this week following.
I will check in more often, I found a place to post from that is comfortable to use.
give my love to Uncle Jim and Uncle Bill, and ask them to watch out for me.
Love,
Dances
It's been a while since I was able to post here. I have been staying with a friend for the past few weeks. The past week has been one where I was house sitting her place. She has a lovely elderly kitty who has accepted me as the dispenser of good things and I am looking at what happens next.
I went back to the house to get another load of things I need to be comfortable. At that time Mr Footless was still in a state of rage and focusing on his muddled idea that somehow I had drained his bank account and was intent on doing him down. I brought a friend along to help. The help asked being her standing around while I grabbed what I needed because she is the most verbally abusive person I have among my friends and Mr Footless is a bit intimidated by her. I picked up my bike, more clothes, my sock yarn and the computer. Somehow the fact of having the yarn has been a great stabilizer for my sense of well being. I have had a lot more calm ever since.
Mr Footless is still in residence at the house. He has finally stopped raging and has begun asking what would make it OK for me to move back in. I am too aware that after the rage comes the sweet talk to yo yo me back in. He has offered to have me come back with some promises of how I could have exactly what I had before. I am not interested in that, that's what I walked out on. I have lost everything I could lose in this situation so I can ask for whatever I want and I know how that works.
At present I have filled out forms for housing. The wait lists run from three months to seven years so I need a temporary nest while waiting for a permanent nest. It is possible that there might be a temporary place but it is nebulous at present.
I am praying and doing my best to stay open for all things possible. I had one piece of inspiration that had nothing to do with anything that I have been struggling with. The last time I had one like this was during the horrible custody battle and it was the direction to learn to spin. Well a lot that was wonderful came of that one, including a network of friends and a whole lot of socks.
I will be following up on this one, it has to do with music, this week following.
I will check in more often, I found a place to post from that is comfortable to use.
give my love to Uncle Jim and Uncle Bill, and ask them to watch out for me.
Love,
Dances
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
We are encountering turbulence please fasten your seatbelts
Dear Aunt Ruth,
I have not written in the past week because things really went sideways last wednesday and I haven't been able to write here.
Mr Footless insisted that he must come home and did. As you can guess over the last few posts I am experiencing severe caregiver burn out. I found myself in panic and tears even at the thought of resuming my responsibilities, much less at the real life happening. Things have been spiraling into chaos in the house as Mr. Footless has been going down hill. I truly am unable to do this and my panic button was confirming it. He telephoned me to inform me that He was coming home and I had absolutely no say about any of it.
From a slight distance I thanked him for the news and stated that I would be sure to be gone when he got there. Without the painful details I am staying with a friend while we wait to see how long it takes for Mr. Footless to be hospitalized.
Yesterday I was on the receiving end of communication that he was in dire straights and that the ambulance had been summoned. This was in the middle of a massive traffic jam caused by the visit of the president who was coming to give a speech on campus.
I do not know what happened after that.
I am waiting on news. I would quite like to know if it would be safe to go and get some things that I didn't pack like my socks and my bike I also know that I don't want any contact with Mr Footless, I am just too vulnerable.
I will write to you as I am able
love
Dances
I have not written in the past week because things really went sideways last wednesday and I haven't been able to write here.
Mr Footless insisted that he must come home and did. As you can guess over the last few posts I am experiencing severe caregiver burn out. I found myself in panic and tears even at the thought of resuming my responsibilities, much less at the real life happening. Things have been spiraling into chaos in the house as Mr. Footless has been going down hill. I truly am unable to do this and my panic button was confirming it. He telephoned me to inform me that He was coming home and I had absolutely no say about any of it.
From a slight distance I thanked him for the news and stated that I would be sure to be gone when he got there. Without the painful details I am staying with a friend while we wait to see how long it takes for Mr. Footless to be hospitalized.
Yesterday I was on the receiving end of communication that he was in dire straights and that the ambulance had been summoned. This was in the middle of a massive traffic jam caused by the visit of the president who was coming to give a speech on campus.
I do not know what happened after that.
I am waiting on news. I would quite like to know if it would be safe to go and get some things that I didn't pack like my socks and my bike I also know that I don't want any contact with Mr Footless, I am just too vulnerable.
I will write to you as I am able
love
Dances
Sunday, August 19, 2012
I have the weeps
Dear Aunt Ruth,
it's been a while since I wrote to you. I miss you terribly right now. In the years since you left us I find that I gather up things you would love to hear about and yet I can no longer send them to you and hear back from you about your life. I miss that.
The big reason that I have been missing you so much is Mr Footless. I would have so loved to talk over what was going on and gotten your sage opinion and counsel. Over the past six months to a year his health and mental functioning has declined to the point where he is back in the paranoia, hoarding and abusive past with his unstable diabetes and amputations to add into the mix. Last Saturday I had to call the ambulance because he was deathly ill with what turned out to be encephalitis, they never did figure out what kind.
On Sunday I began looking at my house and the yard. It ran over me in a huge wave that I didn't want him back home and I couldn't bring him back with the house as it was. Admitting that I don't want the love of my life back with me, that I am unable to give him the care he needs. Well I feel such a damn failure.
I have done the ethical and appropriate things, he is in the best long term care facility in town, He still is incredibly angry and I am doing the best I can with it all. I feel so upset and overwhelmed by the sudden change in circumstances.
I'm worried about my finances as well. I have twenty days to get everything straightened out and I don't see how I can manage at the present.
The hoarded mess in the house is just sitting there because I could do nothing with it until I had the care set up and I knew he was going to be admitted for both rehab and long term in the place of my choice. I'm sitting in the mess bawling and then I get up and throw something away.
I will have to get more done soon. This afternoon I cleaned off two more counters, something that his control issues had made impossible. I'm tired and I had set up my life to be away from the house as much as possible. I feel insane but I'm not and I know that in a little bit I can stop running, take a breath, throw a lot more things out. I'm going to be alright I just wish that it could be the month after next and I can see how it will be settled. I'm just hitting the peaks and things are slotting into place I have to keep going. My entire life has spun around and here I am, wishing I could sit and have a cup of tea with you. give my love to Uncle Bill and Uncle Jim, I'm sure that they would understand
Love Cath
it's been a while since I wrote to you. I miss you terribly right now. In the years since you left us I find that I gather up things you would love to hear about and yet I can no longer send them to you and hear back from you about your life. I miss that.
The big reason that I have been missing you so much is Mr Footless. I would have so loved to talk over what was going on and gotten your sage opinion and counsel. Over the past six months to a year his health and mental functioning has declined to the point where he is back in the paranoia, hoarding and abusive past with his unstable diabetes and amputations to add into the mix. Last Saturday I had to call the ambulance because he was deathly ill with what turned out to be encephalitis, they never did figure out what kind.
On Sunday I began looking at my house and the yard. It ran over me in a huge wave that I didn't want him back home and I couldn't bring him back with the house as it was. Admitting that I don't want the love of my life back with me, that I am unable to give him the care he needs. Well I feel such a damn failure.
I have done the ethical and appropriate things, he is in the best long term care facility in town, He still is incredibly angry and I am doing the best I can with it all. I feel so upset and overwhelmed by the sudden change in circumstances.
I'm worried about my finances as well. I have twenty days to get everything straightened out and I don't see how I can manage at the present.
The hoarded mess in the house is just sitting there because I could do nothing with it until I had the care set up and I knew he was going to be admitted for both rehab and long term in the place of my choice. I'm sitting in the mess bawling and then I get up and throw something away.
I will have to get more done soon. This afternoon I cleaned off two more counters, something that his control issues had made impossible. I'm tired and I had set up my life to be away from the house as much as possible. I feel insane but I'm not and I know that in a little bit I can stop running, take a breath, throw a lot more things out. I'm going to be alright I just wish that it could be the month after next and I can see how it will be settled. I'm just hitting the peaks and things are slotting into place I have to keep going. My entire life has spun around and here I am, wishing I could sit and have a cup of tea with you. give my love to Uncle Bill and Uncle Jim, I'm sure that they would understand
Love Cath
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Mr Footless is very sick
Mr Footless has been having a very hard day. In about another few minutes after I load and start the washer I am going to go in and torture him again. Torture being the absolutely cruel and unusual act of getting a blood sugar so that I can either make him drink something slightly sweet or add a bit of insulin to the system.( It was insulin time) So far he has been in the dumps (40) at 1 am through three thirty and vomiting regularly from 6 on. The bed has been stripped and everything needs washing. My concerns are dehydration and further insulin shock. Also He is bigger than me and if I need help who do I call? Mean time what time is it? it's washer time!
This is to add that Mr Footless was one hell of a lot sicker than I thought.
Shortly after I wrote the above I called the ambulance. He didn't even know that he was being taken off to the hospital and is still somewhat out of it a day later. Right now he has a working diagnosis of Encephalitis and is getting IV meds for bacteria,virus and fungus. I am all in, and going to bed.
This is to add that Mr Footless was one hell of a lot sicker than I thought.
Shortly after I wrote the above I called the ambulance. He didn't even know that he was being taken off to the hospital and is still somewhat out of it a day later. Right now he has a working diagnosis of Encephalitis and is getting IV meds for bacteria,virus and fungus. I am all in, and going to bed.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Getting to here from there
It has been a long week. A really long week.
At the end of it I am not sure where I am but it looks a bit like this. It looks like Lucile my loyal truck needs to find another home as soon as I can find other transportation.
Lucille has been the most loyal and reliable transportation you could imagine. She starts in below zero weather and in hundred and above. She goes without protest or problem and has been comfortable and easy to drive.
Right at the present moment she is in as good shape as she has ever been. Last Sunday she didn't start. I knew that she was working on a low battery and I even had one ready to put in. (I didn't know it but it was dead as a door nail but that wasn't known then) I assumed that the battery had bit the dust not to worry, I can put a battery in, have done many times before, I'm competent aren't I? So it started.
Mr. Footless thought that Maybe I was out of gas. Would you think that in all his fantastic pile of good stuff there was a gas can? There was. Did it have a spout? none of them did. I got a new gas can and added gas. no start. That's Sunday.
Monday. Battery is dead from cranking engine. Charge battery? Nope, tried that twice.
Tuesday. OK put new battery in, try again. Can't get bracket that holds old battery down undone. New Battery is dead too.
Meanwhile my schedule runs: Get up at 4 AM leave by 5 AM get five miles across town for prayers and orientation finish by 9:15 get to office two miles away by 10 Am see clients until somewhere around five or seven at night come home and check in with Mr Footless. Do something to get truck up and running, go to bed, rinse and repeat.
How am I making it across town and back in a timely manner? My dear sweet bicycle. Every day. Fifteen miles altogether. My legs hate me. So does my behind.
Wednesday. call mechanic. who does he recommend to tow poor Lucille in to his expert ministrations?
Got name. get home very late Mr Footless doesn't want truck towed; it costs too much money and he can fix her, right? if you would just cooperate we can do this.
Thursday. call tow truck and set time for about noon because I have put a big gap in my client schedule to deal with this. See first client, pedal home. Tell Mr Footless that the tow truck is coming. Listen to protests.
go meet tow truck and see Lucille off. Pedal back to work and the rest of my clients.
Mechanic calls. this is the diagnosis: Dead battery. Dead Fuel Pump. can replace battery from Walmart but fuel pump will cost big bucks.
Friday Bite Bullet tell mechanic to go ahead, Make me broke. pick up truck after work. runs better than it ever has. gas gauge is fixed. new mirror is on. Starts sweet as you please. The mechanic( bless his heart) took the dead battery to Walmart and got the new one so I didn't have to.
I am now going to the farmer's market to get fresh peaches. I'm going to make a top crust peach pie and take it in to the mechanic on Monday.
I'm incredibly tired. my behind hates me. I lost five pounds.
why do I need to get other transport? after all the problem is fixed and I have her back don't I?
well, really what it comes down to is that I don't need a pick up, I need a car that gets better mileage and that Mr footless will not be tempted to fill with crap. It needs to be one that Mr footless can get into or out of and that has many of Lucille's virtues. Starts like a champ, runs. air conditioning works, stops when told. relatively nimble and turns nicely. has seat belts. I can see out the wind screen. things like that. as soon as I can see what I want, Lucille is for sale. I will miss her terribly.
At the end of it I am not sure where I am but it looks a bit like this. It looks like Lucile my loyal truck needs to find another home as soon as I can find other transportation.
Lucille has been the most loyal and reliable transportation you could imagine. She starts in below zero weather and in hundred and above. She goes without protest or problem and has been comfortable and easy to drive.
Right at the present moment she is in as good shape as she has ever been. Last Sunday she didn't start. I knew that she was working on a low battery and I even had one ready to put in. (I didn't know it but it was dead as a door nail but that wasn't known then) I assumed that the battery had bit the dust not to worry, I can put a battery in, have done many times before, I'm competent aren't I? So it started.
Mr. Footless thought that Maybe I was out of gas. Would you think that in all his fantastic pile of good stuff there was a gas can? There was. Did it have a spout? none of them did. I got a new gas can and added gas. no start. That's Sunday.
Monday. Battery is dead from cranking engine. Charge battery? Nope, tried that twice.
Tuesday. OK put new battery in, try again. Can't get bracket that holds old battery down undone. New Battery is dead too.
Meanwhile my schedule runs: Get up at 4 AM leave by 5 AM get five miles across town for prayers and orientation finish by 9:15 get to office two miles away by 10 Am see clients until somewhere around five or seven at night come home and check in with Mr Footless. Do something to get truck up and running, go to bed, rinse and repeat.
How am I making it across town and back in a timely manner? My dear sweet bicycle. Every day. Fifteen miles altogether. My legs hate me. So does my behind.
Wednesday. call mechanic. who does he recommend to tow poor Lucille in to his expert ministrations?
Got name. get home very late Mr Footless doesn't want truck towed; it costs too much money and he can fix her, right? if you would just cooperate we can do this.
Thursday. call tow truck and set time for about noon because I have put a big gap in my client schedule to deal with this. See first client, pedal home. Tell Mr Footless that the tow truck is coming. Listen to protests.
go meet tow truck and see Lucille off. Pedal back to work and the rest of my clients.
Mechanic calls. this is the diagnosis: Dead battery. Dead Fuel Pump. can replace battery from Walmart but fuel pump will cost big bucks.
Friday Bite Bullet tell mechanic to go ahead, Make me broke. pick up truck after work. runs better than it ever has. gas gauge is fixed. new mirror is on. Starts sweet as you please. The mechanic( bless his heart) took the dead battery to Walmart and got the new one so I didn't have to.
I am now going to the farmer's market to get fresh peaches. I'm going to make a top crust peach pie and take it in to the mechanic on Monday.
I'm incredibly tired. my behind hates me. I lost five pounds.
why do I need to get other transport? after all the problem is fixed and I have her back don't I?
well, really what it comes down to is that I don't need a pick up, I need a car that gets better mileage and that Mr footless will not be tempted to fill with crap. It needs to be one that Mr footless can get into or out of and that has many of Lucille's virtues. Starts like a champ, runs. air conditioning works, stops when told. relatively nimble and turns nicely. has seat belts. I can see out the wind screen. things like that. as soon as I can see what I want, Lucille is for sale. I will miss her terribly.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Falling in love
I have fallen in love in a very grown up way. I am in love with an electric floor scrubber. If that isn't grown up I don't know what is.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Naming the thing
Mr Footless and I were having a talk the other day and I looked at him and asked him how much time he thought he might still have on this earth. He kind of Hems and Haws and then says "two or three years, why do you ask?" I looked him in the eye and told him that I have been getting a really strong feeling that he doesn't have all that long. I told him that I got the feeling that he had a matter of less than a year.
We dropped the subject. Later He walked in to the kitchen and asked me," what if I have more time than you think?" I said "Then we have things in order and we know what is going on."
Mr. Footless grunted and walked off.
Just in case you are not aware, Mr Footless is getting frail. His memory is getting more and more fugitive. He has had a few troubling episodes with confusion. If any of you who read this have history that you need to talk to him about, or things that you need to say, You need to do it sooner rather than later.
Meanwhile Mr Footless is working hard on getting things in order, and moving things around. As I said, If we have more time than My anxious sense tells me, things will be in order and that will make living that much easier.
We dropped the subject. Later He walked in to the kitchen and asked me," what if I have more time than you think?" I said "Then we have things in order and we know what is going on."
Mr. Footless grunted and walked off.
Just in case you are not aware, Mr Footless is getting frail. His memory is getting more and more fugitive. He has had a few troubling episodes with confusion. If any of you who read this have history that you need to talk to him about, or things that you need to say, You need to do it sooner rather than later.
Meanwhile Mr Footless is working hard on getting things in order, and moving things around. As I said, If we have more time than My anxious sense tells me, things will be in order and that will make living that much easier.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Getting it all back together
I am about to do household aerials. In other words I have to get my fan back together.
Bless Mrs. Poke the Crazy. she came in Monday and removed the lattice and the blades plus the pulley thingy. Bless Mr. Friday's Child. He fixed the pulley which was the problem. Now it is up to me to get it all back together before I get someone to help me by holding part of the lattice up there while I screw the screws in.
Mr Footless listed all the things that he was sure he needed to do today and then he went in and lay down and went to sleep. Ain't life interesting?
Bless Mrs. Poke the Crazy. she came in Monday and removed the lattice and the blades plus the pulley thingy. Bless Mr. Friday's Child. He fixed the pulley which was the problem. Now it is up to me to get it all back together before I get someone to help me by holding part of the lattice up there while I screw the screws in.
Mr Footless listed all the things that he was sure he needed to do today and then he went in and lay down and went to sleep. Ain't life interesting?
Saturday, July 7, 2012
A four spoon day
A friend came up to see me today, we were sitting in my newly renovated room and glorying in how well it turned out. We were talking about being sidelined by chronic illness and She mentioned the spoon theory and how in trying to work a forty hour week she had borrowed so many spoons ahead that she had been sidelined for several weeks. I nodded my understanding and thought over my day and week.
Well, today looks to be a four spoon day because I have been borrowing ahead as well.
I will need to get the fan out of its place and get the bearing replaced and as soon as possible, but it isn't happening today. I am out of spoons.
In typing this I suddenly realized I have had chronic fatigue or fibromyalgia since my twenties. I have had brain dysfunction since I was eleven. In all the problems that I have faced and the situations that I have overcome there has always been the incredible drag of the chronic pain and illness. Everything I have done has been done with limited energy and strength, slowly. I realize how much I feel less than acceptable because I can do less than what you would think was normal.
I will never be able to work forty hours and have time and energy for my loved ones. Every day I have to choose what I do knowing that each choice made means another thing that won't get done somewhere else. What I do with each day is a matter of choices made with the energy I have.
The renovation of this room took a month and a half. I love it, it's beautiful. The next room will take about the same time. In between are clients, friends and family, and inevitably there will be days when, like this one, I am out of spoons.
Well, today looks to be a four spoon day because I have been borrowing ahead as well.
I will need to get the fan out of its place and get the bearing replaced and as soon as possible, but it isn't happening today. I am out of spoons.
In typing this I suddenly realized I have had chronic fatigue or fibromyalgia since my twenties. I have had brain dysfunction since I was eleven. In all the problems that I have faced and the situations that I have overcome there has always been the incredible drag of the chronic pain and illness. Everything I have done has been done with limited energy and strength, slowly. I realize how much I feel less than acceptable because I can do less than what you would think was normal.
I will never be able to work forty hours and have time and energy for my loved ones. Every day I have to choose what I do knowing that each choice made means another thing that won't get done somewhere else. What I do with each day is a matter of choices made with the energy I have.
The renovation of this room took a month and a half. I love it, it's beautiful. The next room will take about the same time. In between are clients, friends and family, and inevitably there will be days when, like this one, I am out of spoons.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
And this works how?
Last night our big fan blew a bearing. This is a major calamity because I am really heat sensitive and the fan sucks the heat out of the house every night in the summer. This makes living here possible because I can't sleep at night when I am hot.. I hauled a ladder up into the hall and investigated. I could understand that something was wrong but I couldn't tell what or why. it wasn't obvious from below the fan blades
Then I hauled a bigger ladder up the stairs and opened the crawl hole and clambered up into the dark hot pit of the upper attic with a flashlight that would turn off at whatever the most inconvenient time could be, and investigated further. It turns out as best I understand it, that there is a bearing race that needs replacing above the fan blades, not the one in the motor thank goodness.
I climbed back out and reported this to Mr Footless who then announced that he would climb up there in the morning(!) and take it apart to get it fixed.
I said "No."
Mr Footless said a number of things about how I was being obstructive and some other things about how I was being mean and I told him that It didn't matter what he thought, I wasn't going to cooperate with him getting up in the attic.
Moving on to today.
I got a call from Mrs. Poke the Crazy, A friend who I do like a lot, but who finds poking crazy people irresistible. (Then she can't quite understand why her efforts to make their lives better isn't better received. After all she does know how this is all supposed to go.)
Mrs PTC had an exhaust fan which she offered me as a good substitute for my long working dearly loved attic fan. I said yes, thanks, and she brought it over. I gave her a glass of iced tea and we had a nice chat about the latest set of crazy she is busy poking, and she admired my new room and we went on our ways.
So later in the day as I am working on the huge mess in room #2 and taking things into room #1 and arranging them and getting ready to move the computer (not a job for the foolish or the faint of heart I might add) Mr Footless comes up the stairs with the big ladder and sets it up in the hallway of room #1 and then orders me to help him get up in the attic.
I said "No." Then I carefully explained that Getting him up in the attic was a sure way to get both of us hurt and I wasn't going to have anything to do with it.
Mr. Footless has informed me that he will be getting up in the attic with or without my help tomorrow morning.
I told him to be sure to wear his lifeline so that when he came to grief he could call for help. He was grossly offended.
Tomorrow he may
Then I hauled a bigger ladder up the stairs and opened the crawl hole and clambered up into the dark hot pit of the upper attic with a flashlight that would turn off at whatever the most inconvenient time could be, and investigated further. It turns out as best I understand it, that there is a bearing race that needs replacing above the fan blades, not the one in the motor thank goodness.
I climbed back out and reported this to Mr Footless who then announced that he would climb up there in the morning(!) and take it apart to get it fixed.
I said "No."
Mr Footless said a number of things about how I was being obstructive and some other things about how I was being mean and I told him that It didn't matter what he thought, I wasn't going to cooperate with him getting up in the attic.
Moving on to today.
I got a call from Mrs. Poke the Crazy, A friend who I do like a lot, but who finds poking crazy people irresistible. (Then she can't quite understand why her efforts to make their lives better isn't better received. After all she does know how this is all supposed to go.)
Mrs PTC had an exhaust fan which she offered me as a good substitute for my long working dearly loved attic fan. I said yes, thanks, and she brought it over. I gave her a glass of iced tea and we had a nice chat about the latest set of crazy she is busy poking, and she admired my new room and we went on our ways.
So later in the day as I am working on the huge mess in room #2 and taking things into room #1 and arranging them and getting ready to move the computer (not a job for the foolish or the faint of heart I might add) Mr Footless comes up the stairs with the big ladder and sets it up in the hallway of room #1 and then orders me to help him get up in the attic.
I said "No." Then I carefully explained that Getting him up in the attic was a sure way to get both of us hurt and I wasn't going to have anything to do with it.
Mr. Footless has informed me that he will be getting up in the attic with or without my help tomorrow morning.
I told him to be sure to wear his lifeline so that when he came to grief he could call for help. He was grossly offended.
Tomorrow he may
- climb up into the attic and most likely have a problem
- wait for me to get home and then do it
- forget about it and do something else entirely
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Unloading
Bedroom #1 is most nearly finished with the base molding cut and ready to be nailed in place. Bedroom #2 has a lot of stuff in it including a treadle sewing machine, three book cases and many heaps and piles of unconsidered schmutter. I now must consider and unload the schmutter.
Last week I sorted the knitting books. 3/4 of my knitting library went over to my office and was offered to a friend whose house burnt in the fires west of Fort Collins. Her entire knitting stash was consumed, yarn, needles, books, finished things, memories and all.
It's kind of the same and kind of opposite of a death. In death the person goes and everything they had remains and must be dealt with. In losing a house the people remain and all the things vanish, poof.
You can say that the people are the important thing, and it is true things can be replaced. All the same I think that we tend to dismiss the extent of their loss. Every thing familiar is gone. All the patterns and habits that anchor us to our lives are in the things we touch and use daily. And it is gone.
I can't begin to fathom what that must be like. What I can do is offer some of what I have. Needles, books and yarn. The beginnings of a new start and a fresh understanding of fiber craft and its anchors.
I am unloading from my abundance and offering it up to those who may need it much more than I. It is a relief. I am glad to lighten that load.
Last week I sorted the knitting books. 3/4 of my knitting library went over to my office and was offered to a friend whose house burnt in the fires west of Fort Collins. Her entire knitting stash was consumed, yarn, needles, books, finished things, memories and all.
It's kind of the same and kind of opposite of a death. In death the person goes and everything they had remains and must be dealt with. In losing a house the people remain and all the things vanish, poof.
You can say that the people are the important thing, and it is true things can be replaced. All the same I think that we tend to dismiss the extent of their loss. Every thing familiar is gone. All the patterns and habits that anchor us to our lives are in the things we touch and use daily. And it is gone.
I can't begin to fathom what that must be like. What I can do is offer some of what I have. Needles, books and yarn. The beginnings of a new start and a fresh understanding of fiber craft and its anchors.
I am unloading from my abundance and offering it up to those who may need it much more than I. It is a relief. I am glad to lighten that load.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
For sale
Cheap, one husband with moderate bad habits and a case of unstable Diabetes. Missing a few parts, nothing essential. ten cents or best offer. junk stash goes with, no exceptions
Thursday, June 21, 2012
just one more
I have been assembling the laminate floor, something that would take a contractor about four hours to do and will take me the rest of the week because if you have only bits and pieces of time to devote to it it goes slowly.
Assembling laminate is actually fun. You put the pieces together and get the row lined up. then you tilt it on edge and slide it into the gap. After carefully and gently tapping it as together as you can it will suddenly line up and slip into place and drop. It takes three large whops with a rubber hammer to settle it in and you can't tell where the seams are. Then you go off to get some more and to measure and cut the short one. and then one more and ...
I am fortunate to have a wee power saw that is battery run and small enough for me to handle. I can cut the pieces to fit with it and I'm doing pretty well. It usually runs out of juice the same time that I do. So we recharge on approximately the same schedule. Saw's recharging and I take a rest that I didn't know I needed.
I am up to the closet on the next set of cuts and that will be tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight.
Assembling laminate is actually fun. You put the pieces together and get the row lined up. then you tilt it on edge and slide it into the gap. After carefully and gently tapping it as together as you can it will suddenly line up and slip into place and drop. It takes three large whops with a rubber hammer to settle it in and you can't tell where the seams are. Then you go off to get some more and to measure and cut the short one. and then one more and ...
I am fortunate to have a wee power saw that is battery run and small enough for me to handle. I can cut the pieces to fit with it and I'm doing pretty well. It usually runs out of juice the same time that I do. So we recharge on approximately the same schedule. Saw's recharging and I take a rest that I didn't know I needed.
I am up to the closet on the next set of cuts and that will be tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
list revision
Pick up bits on floor(done)
vacuum floor (done)
haul out the floor machine(done)
run floor machine with red scrubber(done)
vacuum again(done)
roll out first layer of foam underlayment (done)
begin the laying process:
Charge battery for small saw(done)
turn truck to use tailgate(done)
trim tongue off first row of laminate boards(done)
mess one up by trimming the wrong edge(done)
mark and cut the furnace hole (done)
start the second row (done)
mark the rest of the furnace hole (done)
stop and rest and eat (done)sort of, I'm still resting
cut the furnace hole
keep on laying this stuff down
vacuum floor (done)
haul out the floor machine(done)
run floor machine with red scrubber(done)
vacuum again(done)
roll out first layer of foam underlayment (done)
begin the laying process:
Charge battery for small saw(done)
turn truck to use tailgate(done)
trim tongue off first row of laminate boards(done)
mess one up by trimming the wrong edge(done)
mark and cut the furnace hole (done)
start the second row (done)
mark the rest of the furnace hole (done)
stop and rest and eat (done)sort of, I'm still resting
cut the furnace hole
keep on laying this stuff down
Saturday, June 16, 2012
painting in the zip lock age
The paint in the room is drying, a sort of leftover mint green on the south and vanilla ice cream on the east, north, and west.
My understanding of the art/slog of painting a room has added a few things to my cleanup technique and therefore my willingness to do the actual job itself. My biggest piece of reluctance to do it has been the problem of needing to do things in bits and the nastiness of uncleaned up paint when you only have half an hour to devote to it. Meet my new painting friend, the gigungus zip lock bag. Ziplock now makes three gallon bags, almost big enough to put a body in prior to hiding it in the freezer for resurrection later. They are actually big enough to put an entire roller pan of paint in. You put the brush all wet with paint into the gallon one and the roller pan plus roller in the three gallon one and seal it all up. Then when you have another half hour to spend, out it comes for the time you need and then back it goes. The final cleanup is the only cleanup and you take the gallon zips and seal the rollers in them and throw the works away. My next thought is using a bag in the roller pan itself.... I think I am on to something.
the to do list:
clean up floor
put ladders away
vacuum floor
put down padding
find u tube on laying laminate flooring
study u tube
get batteries charged in small saw
set up sawing station
lay floor
My understanding of the art/slog of painting a room has added a few things to my cleanup technique and therefore my willingness to do the actual job itself. My biggest piece of reluctance to do it has been the problem of needing to do things in bits and the nastiness of uncleaned up paint when you only have half an hour to devote to it. Meet my new painting friend, the gigungus zip lock bag. Ziplock now makes three gallon bags, almost big enough to put a body in prior to hiding it in the freezer for resurrection later. They are actually big enough to put an entire roller pan of paint in. You put the brush all wet with paint into the gallon one and the roller pan plus roller in the three gallon one and seal it all up. Then when you have another half hour to spend, out it comes for the time you need and then back it goes. The final cleanup is the only cleanup and you take the gallon zips and seal the rollers in them and throw the works away. My next thought is using a bag in the roller pan itself.... I think I am on to something.
the to do list:
clean up floor
put ladders away
vacuum floor
put down padding
find u tube on laying laminate flooring
study u tube
get batteries charged in small saw
set up sawing station
lay floor
Thursday, June 14, 2012
The holiday that we all need
I have been in the middle of my compost time, grumpy and stressed due to the monster fire to the north and west of us. I am thinking of declaring a holiday.
Today I say is Panties in a Bunch day. have an emotional touchy point? Things not going well? annoyed due to stupid stuff? let loose the tantrum of a life time! scream, stomp and be unreasonable.
I'm in.
Today I say is Panties in a Bunch day. have an emotional touchy point? Things not going well? annoyed due to stupid stuff? let loose the tantrum of a life time! scream, stomp and be unreasonable.
I'm in.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Standing at the wall of indecision
I spent a lot of time this past week standing in Home despot in front of the Wall of Indecision otherwise known as the paint section. There are a thousand colors and a thousand shades of color and forty eleven billion hues of white.
You see people standing there in tears trying to match a white to a white and going into total meltdown.
Home Despot has a computerized helper that lets you choose a color and then will offer other colors that harmonize with it. Then you can try the effect in rooms with various kinds of lighting to see what it might look like. This makes things a little easier. or maybe not.
The reason for my meditations there is that I am beginning to renovate the smallest bedroom and make it into a guest/separate bedroom for others.
The boys chose a light blue when we painted. I am repainting with mostly a cream color and an accent wall in the green that I used in my present bedroom. This is what I came to after many thoughtful hours. The daisy chain of what comes before what looks like this.
remove stuff (Done)
Remove Carpet (done)
remove padding (done)
remove tack stripping (done)
remove base molding (done)
Paint cat pee with Kilz ( done)
Paint door frames with Kilz (done)
Paint new molding (done)
cut in walls and ceiling. with the cream paint (done)
spackle the walls and fill in the holes (done)
paint door frames with cream paint ( done)
remove wall lamp and plate covers (done)
paint three walls cream(done)
cut in the south wall with green(done)
paint the south wall green(done)
paint the switch plates to match.(done)
vacuum the floor
lay out the under padding
lay the laminate floor
trim the padding
cut the base molding to size
nail it in
retouch the paint
sit and admire
it's going to take some slogging.
You see people standing there in tears trying to match a white to a white and going into total meltdown.
Home Despot has a computerized helper that lets you choose a color and then will offer other colors that harmonize with it. Then you can try the effect in rooms with various kinds of lighting to see what it might look like. This makes things a little easier. or maybe not.
The reason for my meditations there is that I am beginning to renovate the smallest bedroom and make it into a guest/separate bedroom for others.
The boys chose a light blue when we painted. I am repainting with mostly a cream color and an accent wall in the green that I used in my present bedroom. This is what I came to after many thoughtful hours. The daisy chain of what comes before what looks like this.
remove stuff (Done)
Remove Carpet (done)
remove padding (done)
remove tack stripping (done)
remove base molding (done)
Paint cat pee with Kilz ( done)
Paint door frames with Kilz (done)
Paint new molding (done)
cut in walls and ceiling. with the cream paint (done)
spackle the walls and fill in the holes (done)
paint door frames with cream paint ( done)
remove wall lamp and plate covers (done)
paint three walls cream(done)
cut in the south wall with green(done)
paint the south wall green(done)
paint the switch plates to match.(done)
vacuum the floor
lay out the under padding
lay the laminate floor
trim the padding
cut the base molding to size
nail it in
retouch the paint
sit and admire
it's going to take some slogging.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Maybe not so bad
Three weeks or so ago Mr Footless went through a three day marathon glucose monitoring session that involved among other things two trips into Greeley.
Then we had a meeting with MS diabetic specialist. For the first time we felt like someone actually understood the weirdness that has been Mr. Footless's daily struggle with control. Ms Specialist has named Mr. Footless the hardest to control diabetic she has ever encountered. Suddenly they are politely asking Mr. Footless what he thinks.
Does he need more or less at this particular time of day? As we go along the incredible highs and the crashing lows are beginning to smooth out. We are sneaking up on the thing and it has been eight weeks since we called 911 for blood sugar. Mr Footless is less likely to be upset with his sugars and we are getting the afternoon highs down.
Now that we are getting that stable there are other things that need attention, because be he never so stable blood sugar wise, Mr. Footless is still going to be 73.
He is still the Mr. Footless we know so well with all the don't touch my stuff and it's all worth mucho money attitude. He took a bunch of his good stuff up to the auction and got the itemized list of what sold for what....Oh dear look at that. Cassette tapes sell for five cents each no matter the artist on the cover. Who would have thought?
Well, Me for one.
I think that I might be able to point out to him that it costs more between gas and my missing work to truck the stuff up than he gets in money for the stuff.
Meanwhile he's having memory problems periodically and life is moving on for both of us. Another day, another problem.
Then we had a meeting with MS diabetic specialist. For the first time we felt like someone actually understood the weirdness that has been Mr. Footless's daily struggle with control. Ms Specialist has named Mr. Footless the hardest to control diabetic she has ever encountered. Suddenly they are politely asking Mr. Footless what he thinks.
Does he need more or less at this particular time of day? As we go along the incredible highs and the crashing lows are beginning to smooth out. We are sneaking up on the thing and it has been eight weeks since we called 911 for blood sugar. Mr Footless is less likely to be upset with his sugars and we are getting the afternoon highs down.
Now that we are getting that stable there are other things that need attention, because be he never so stable blood sugar wise, Mr. Footless is still going to be 73.
He is still the Mr. Footless we know so well with all the don't touch my stuff and it's all worth mucho money attitude. He took a bunch of his good stuff up to the auction and got the itemized list of what sold for what....Oh dear look at that. Cassette tapes sell for five cents each no matter the artist on the cover. Who would have thought?
Well, Me for one.
I think that I might be able to point out to him that it costs more between gas and my missing work to truck the stuff up than he gets in money for the stuff.
Meanwhile he's having memory problems periodically and life is moving on for both of us. Another day, another problem.
Monday, May 14, 2012
the view from the boat
You don’t know us. You see us in your offices when we come in together for an update or a check up. What you see may be the facts but it isn’t us.
This is us. We have been in the boat for a long time and we have kept it afloat for many years longer than anyone could imagine. We have worked out some ways to keep it afloat that look pretty weird to you.
The other passenger has some beliefs that may be pretty dysfunctional, at the same time he knows the boat better than anyone else and I trust him to say what will work and what won’t. He has been right more than he has been wrong. He is still here in his boat. He has been riding it for years and been told since he was three that it couldn’t last much longer. So seventy years later the boat has more leaks and the way he has been dealing works less and less well. It is still his boat and he has managed to keep it afloat. You have only seen a very small part of the voyage
You have seen more boats than we have, you even have some operating instructions that might help us. You might even be able to shout some of the instructions to us and we might be able to make use of them.
You, none of you, are in here with us. The problem as I see it is that no one can tell from outside the boat what conditions are in the boat, and it isn’t a standard boat and never has been. What works for the standard boat will swamp and sink this one. I have seen it time and again.
When you inform us that the conditions in the boat can’t be there and that they must be other than we report or have experienced, we think that you have ignored the only source of information about conditions inside the boat that you have. How much trust do you think that we will give to your instructions when we know from experience that what you ask or tell or order us to do will swamp the boat? When the storm is up you are not there.
We in the boat are well aware that the water is rising, more than you in fact because we are sitting in it. I have the ability to leave it in theory, and like any relationship it’s more complex than that. I got in this boat for a lot of reasons including a lot of love for the other passenger and I agreed to stay until the boat sank and he went with it.
I have had many opportunities to leave. I have considered a lot of them. None of them fit with my sense of honor and my sense of commitment.
You all may have your ideas about what should be done to keep this boat afloat. You can tell me things like I am being too controlling and to back off and let him steer. However, at three AM in the midst of yet another storm, with yet another wave swamping us both, with my partner incapacitated, You are not there and will not be there and have no interest in ever being there.
I am there and in the night watches I am the one who makes the decisions. That includes whether to stave in the bottom of the boat and swim away. You can’t imagine how often I have considered that option. If I did who would know after all?
At present I am working hard to construct a viable life vest to keep me afloat when the boat sinks. It will sink. We both know this. I understood that from the time I got in the boat. I have chosen to stay with it until the natural end, whatever that is, because I have to look at myself in the morning and I want to like what I see.
I wouldn’t like me if I bailed at this point.
I wouldn’t like me if I bailed at this point.
It would be really helpful to have some of you watching from shore. I would like to know that there was another boat nearby. It would be useful to know if here is some help that I can trust, to be there as I strike out for shore. Will I have shelter? What will conditions on shore be for me? Will there be someone there to help when I pull up on the sand?
My core beliefs tell me that there will be nothing there for me.
I know that if I am acting from that place that's exactly what I will get. So Here the two of us are.
I don't need judgement about my trip in the boat, it has been a lot better than not mostly. I just need to know that when my boat sinks with my partner there is a shore to head for and someone with a towel waiting when I hit the sand.
My core beliefs tell me that there will be nothing there for me.
I know that if I am acting from that place that's exactly what I will get. So Here the two of us are.
I don't need judgement about my trip in the boat, it has been a lot better than not mostly. I just need to know that when my boat sinks with my partner there is a shore to head for and someone with a towel waiting when I hit the sand.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Things That I had forgotten
Weekends are busy for me now. Weekdays are taken up with clients, and making it from one end to the other without dropping too many balls. So if I am going to socialize, do personal errands, attend to my own things like arranging my yarn supply and get some easy to manage meals planned and partly cooked it happens on the weekends.
This is a part of normal that I haven't participated in for a long time because of the workpainsleep cycle that is moving into the background instead of taking up the front screen most of the time.
I had forgotten
How did I forget this? I didn't have that much energy or the attention available over the weekend to do it. If you had seen me sitting reading or staring into space or knitting you would have thought that I was just lazing. What I was doing was sitting in such a haze of exhaustion that I could not think of what I should do to keep things together and make life easier for myself. Ok. food is in the fridge, dinner and others is available for the week.
I have been away in a far country. I am back here a bit, and I hope that more of me can show up.
The lovely socks mentioned a few posts back were fussy about what they wanted to be. After two aborted tries they and I agreed on a relatively simple pattern and we have made it past both the heels. It can be hard when the yarn has a mind of it's own about what it wants to be. It's really hard when they let you get a long ways before they let you know it isn't going work.
This is a part of normal that I haven't participated in for a long time because of the workpainsleep cycle that is moving into the background instead of taking up the front screen most of the time.
I had forgotten
- that you can do more than one thing in a day
- that some of the looming tasks actually take up very little time preparation wise and can be operating in the background while other things happen.
- that having the stuff set up ahead really can be done as background to the main chore of the day.
How did I forget this? I didn't have that much energy or the attention available over the weekend to do it. If you had seen me sitting reading or staring into space or knitting you would have thought that I was just lazing. What I was doing was sitting in such a haze of exhaustion that I could not think of what I should do to keep things together and make life easier for myself. Ok. food is in the fridge, dinner and others is available for the week.
I have been away in a far country. I am back here a bit, and I hope that more of me can show up.
The lovely socks mentioned a few posts back were fussy about what they wanted to be. After two aborted tries they and I agreed on a relatively simple pattern and we have made it past both the heels. It can be hard when the yarn has a mind of it's own about what it wants to be. It's really hard when they let you get a long ways before they let you know it isn't going work.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Aha moment
Life had a look up point on Friday when the trash folks dropped off the new recycle bin. That sucker is bigger than our trash by about double. On the top is a list of what does and does not go in. So yesterday I spent a fair amount of time putting all the recycle items that have been hanging about, waiting for the magical day wherein the twinkle fairies will drop their blessings on it, and it can be transported magically to the great God Garbageous in the sky. The bin holds 65 gallons and is about half full at this point.
Naturally Mr. Footless is remarkably pissed off because he no longer has the control and excuse to keep his heaps and fuss with them. Among others I emptied a bin that has been sitting on the living room floor for four months because he had an anxiety attack about it being something he had not seen. My response was "Too Bad."
Mr Footless is considerably less than pleased with me.
Then of course yesterday I caught him red handed in a twisted little piece of ugly called" pick a fight and blame the receiver." Isn't it funny what people do to keep themselves safe.?
Naturally Mr. Footless is remarkably pissed off because he no longer has the control and excuse to keep his heaps and fuss with them. Among others I emptied a bin that has been sitting on the living room floor for four months because he had an anxiety attack about it being something he had not seen. My response was "Too Bad."
Mr Footless is considerably less than pleased with me.
Then of course yesterday I caught him red handed in a twisted little piece of ugly called" pick a fight and blame the receiver." Isn't it funny what people do to keep themselves safe.?
Friday, March 23, 2012
Up date
Two sock (one pair) almost to the pupae stage reduced to larvae once more. I have one up to the heel. I like the pattern better. It knits up faster.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
umph
What with feeling better I am delightedly rummaging through my bin of sock yarns to decide who gets what in the way of sockage. I talked with a friend who reminded me that the enormous bin of yarn is not a liability nor is it a waste. It is socks in their larval stage. That settles my conscience about waste, although it doesn't stop me from adding more to the bin.
I can live with that. I just sometimes think that it would be nice if my wish for order didn't run directly into my rebellious side. How do I know that I will want to knit those yarns for that person when I get to the point of it? I don't.
All the time I spent bagging peoples names with certain sock larvae may well be in vain, because who knows if I will agree to what I thought was good way back when? At some point All of it will evolve through my needles into warm stuff for feet, the possibility that it is an unlikely color and strange pattern is going to be the luck of the draw. I knit out of love and not obligation.
I pulled a really wild one out and knitted it up. It looked rather nice as a skein and better as a ball and then WHEW as the sock itself it was pretty loud. It was purple and pink and aqua plus green and orange and sparkles. One of the Guys at the knitting table looked it over and said "Looks like Liberace's bedroom slippers." well then, that's alright, if a little(!) gaudy.
Now I am working on a pair in various shades of flame red absolutely glorious and past the heels. I don't like the pattern, and like it less as I go. Do I morph it into something else, rip it or continue? The debate rages mostly in my head. I think that it will do better with another pattern. Phoo.
I can live with that. I just sometimes think that it would be nice if my wish for order didn't run directly into my rebellious side. How do I know that I will want to knit those yarns for that person when I get to the point of it? I don't.
All the time I spent bagging peoples names with certain sock larvae may well be in vain, because who knows if I will agree to what I thought was good way back when? At some point All of it will evolve through my needles into warm stuff for feet, the possibility that it is an unlikely color and strange pattern is going to be the luck of the draw. I knit out of love and not obligation.
I pulled a really wild one out and knitted it up. It looked rather nice as a skein and better as a ball and then WHEW as the sock itself it was pretty loud. It was purple and pink and aqua plus green and orange and sparkles. One of the Guys at the knitting table looked it over and said "Looks like Liberace's bedroom slippers." well then, that's alright, if a little(!) gaudy.
Now I am working on a pair in various shades of flame red absolutely glorious and past the heels. I don't like the pattern, and like it less as I go. Do I morph it into something else, rip it or continue? The debate rages mostly in my head. I think that it will do better with another pattern. Phoo.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
bZZZZAP!
Yesterday started out badly. I was up by 2:45 and that is AM mind you due to Mr Footless's blood sugar being 911 low (37). I had the following conversation with an EMT
"Ma'am, would you come up here and convince your husband to eat some glucose?"
"No."
Someone grabbed him at that point and I hear the whispered ( hissed) "The reason that we are here is because she can't manage it herself and she would if she could."
I hate new cert EMTs with a fine and burning passion.
So Mr Footless trundled off to the emergency room, and I went off to work.
Then after work I had a hair cut and did the Friday errands. I got home by four thirty and went upstairs to check in....... and called 911 again Blood sugar (23).
At that point I called a friend and asked myself to dinner. There is no way of describing my state of mind except to say that it was Not Good.
Today I was doing the normal Saturday chores and heading over to return some sock needles that I can't use when the phone rang with a desperate call from someone I will call Friday's Child.
She asked me to come over and help with problem unspecified. I sailed over and spent what had to be the most uncomfortable hour and a half imaginable with five hostile people all trying to make themselves understood and to get their own way at the same time. I am sure that I was supposed to be there, and I am sure that I did what I was supposed to do, all the same I am clueless as to what that was or what in the name of the creator it was about.
I missed the great television transfer scheduled for the afternoon and Mr. Footless was miffed because I disappeared with the truck when he wanted the helpful guys to carry out and load a bunch of schmutter. Sorry. I called and he didn't answer his phone.
I feel like I put my finger into the light socket of the universe and my newly shorn hair is standing on end.
Now I am really wondering about tomorrow's Meeting.
"Ma'am, would you come up here and convince your husband to eat some glucose?"
"No."
Someone grabbed him at that point and I hear the whispered ( hissed) "The reason that we are here is because she can't manage it herself and she would if she could."
I hate new cert EMTs with a fine and burning passion.
So Mr Footless trundled off to the emergency room, and I went off to work.
Then after work I had a hair cut and did the Friday errands. I got home by four thirty and went upstairs to check in....... and called 911 again Blood sugar (23).
At that point I called a friend and asked myself to dinner. There is no way of describing my state of mind except to say that it was Not Good.
Today I was doing the normal Saturday chores and heading over to return some sock needles that I can't use when the phone rang with a desperate call from someone I will call Friday's Child.
She asked me to come over and help with problem unspecified. I sailed over and spent what had to be the most uncomfortable hour and a half imaginable with five hostile people all trying to make themselves understood and to get their own way at the same time. I am sure that I was supposed to be there, and I am sure that I did what I was supposed to do, all the same I am clueless as to what that was or what in the name of the creator it was about.
I missed the great television transfer scheduled for the afternoon and Mr. Footless was miffed because I disappeared with the truck when he wanted the helpful guys to carry out and load a bunch of schmutter. Sorry. I called and he didn't answer his phone.
I feel like I put my finger into the light socket of the universe and my newly shorn hair is standing on end.
Now I am really wondering about tomorrow's Meeting.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I'm not fussy but......
I wish to hell that I could just get the charts. I don't need the instructions for the toe, heel and thirty differing ways to set up the gusset. I just want/need the stitch pattern for the gorgeous lace in that there sock pattern and I want it in the chart form thank you very much.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Spring......
It's warm out. The yard is a winter mess and the trees need water.
Where am I on this first day of "I'm going to take it easy week"? I'm inside thinking about a nap because Mr. Footless had a Chinese fire drill at 6 AM.
Overheard remarks from the fire guys:
"His glucose is __ She's only off by about two points"
"Yeah, She totally nails it 98% of the time. I've never seen her off by more than ten points and she is usually within three."
"How does she do it?"
"I dunno. Hey Cathy! How do you tell the glucose so close?"
"It's all in how he twitches."
"Can you do it with someone else?"
"Don't know, He's the only one that I work with."
It's twenty years and knowing the signals and what to pay attention to.
Where am I on this first day of "I'm going to take it easy week"? I'm inside thinking about a nap because Mr. Footless had a Chinese fire drill at 6 AM.
Overheard remarks from the fire guys:
"His glucose is __ She's only off by about two points"
"Yeah, She totally nails it 98% of the time. I've never seen her off by more than ten points and she is usually within three."
"How does she do it?"
"I dunno. Hey Cathy! How do you tell the glucose so close?"
"It's all in how he twitches."
"Can you do it with someone else?"
"Don't know, He's the only one that I work with."
It's twenty years and knowing the signals and what to pay attention to.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
I want a vacation
Yesterday was a long day. It began with a client session that did not go well, included a long time with Mr Footless at the local art museum, and continued with a visit with the Erstwhile Child. It was all needed and I am mostly glad I went and did. All the same I have very few client appointments this next week and I think that I am going to try and be nice to myself and take a rest.
I do see that my energy is a lot better. I managed to be up and functioning early today and it is Spring forward day at that. I saw a whole bunch of robins sitting around so spring is in session.
It's afternoon and I think that with all the things calling to be done I am going to set the timer for half an hour of kitchen cleanup and go take a nap. or lie down or something.
I do see that my energy is a lot better. I managed to be up and functioning early today and it is Spring forward day at that. I saw a whole bunch of robins sitting around so spring is in session.
It's afternoon and I think that with all the things calling to be done I am going to set the timer for half an hour of kitchen cleanup and go take a nap. or lie down or something.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
But It Works
We spent the morning with the diabetic expert. Not my favorite thing to do. She is displeased that I reprogrammed the pump and was horrified that I set part of the settings to 0. She was upset and looking at the numbers, and trying to tell me how wrong they were. I kept pointing out, "But it works!" Since the reprogramming there have been no emergency calls and Mr. Footless hasn't had the problem with highs that last all day. She is not happy and set out to tweak the numbers. The upshot of the meeting of the minds was that she put some changes in. It turns out that they were actually pretty few and modified what I had done. Humph.
Monday, March 5, 2012
talking to the air
I just spent a lovely day with mom and dad. I really needed it and they tell me that they keep a close eye on what I am writing here. that's good because sometimes It feels a lot like I am talking to nobody about nothing much. I am considering making this blog a more family sort of place. In that I would let people who aren't me and are related post here as well. that way there is a place to send those really cool ancient slide transferred to digital pictures plus it gives a better way to tell the news that we would like to hear. I love you guys, I am beyond flattered that you keep up with my weekend natters. all the same it still feels like I am talking to the air with no feedback.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
continuing the experiment
Mr. Footless and I see a counselor pretty regularly in part because we need a referee when things are difficult, and at present things are difficult for a lot of reasons.
Today I got to talk about food and the refrigerator, and Mr. Footless's difficulty letting go of food that is (ahem) past its expiration date, and why it can't be thrown in the "garden".
Mr Footless wanted tocomplain talk about my not letting him drive and how that means that he can't get rid of things because I won't take them to his chosen disposal points. (Chosen disposal points seem to be at least a town away and have times of operation that are inconvenient or impossible for me to use.)
The upshot is that Mr Footless agreed to let me clean out the refrigerator and our counselor agreed with me, that Mr. Footless is not able to drive even if he did by some miracle get a driver's license. The liability is just too great.
Mr. Footless isn't happy with me, and furthermore he has been referred to someone that works with elder hoarding problems.
If I were younger I would be dancing a happy dance. As it is, Mr Footless is making his unhappiness known with silent treatment and unkind remarks. I am unimpressed and will ignore the behavior unless I must.
The third week of antibiotics with the third raise in dosage is in effect. I am feeling steadily better and my basic energy is rising. At present my hands hurt but I did a lot of lifting with them and a lot of knitting as well.
I am heading for bed, I am tired and it has been a long day.
Today I got to talk about food and the refrigerator, and Mr. Footless's difficulty letting go of food that is (ahem) past its expiration date, and why it can't be thrown in the "garden".
Mr Footless wanted to
The upshot is that Mr Footless agreed to let me clean out the refrigerator and our counselor agreed with me, that Mr. Footless is not able to drive even if he did by some miracle get a driver's license. The liability is just too great.
Mr. Footless isn't happy with me, and furthermore he has been referred to someone that works with elder hoarding problems.
If I were younger I would be dancing a happy dance. As it is, Mr Footless is making his unhappiness known with silent treatment and unkind remarks. I am unimpressed and will ignore the behavior unless I must.
The third week of antibiotics with the third raise in dosage is in effect. I am feeling steadily better and my basic energy is rising. At present my hands hurt but I did a lot of lifting with them and a lot of knitting as well.
I am heading for bed, I am tired and it has been a long day.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
alarums and excursions
Yesterday was a day that started pre- 4am I hate days that have two 4 o clocks in them. This was caused by the (big surprise) clown car circus emergency precipitated at 4 AM. We have been struggling over the last interval due to the wild zig-zags with blood glucose up and downs that Mr Footless takes during the day with the pump. During the morning hours he needs a lot more insulin to get moving.
Then we have known that he needed more then and less at night for a while. The specialists have been calibrating in on the proper doses kind of like stalking a lion at the water hole. They keep counseling patience and I have felt very frustrated and unheard as I am trying to explain that if they don't get his levels figured out really soon I will have a dead husband.
Or he will give up on the pump and go back to the injections. Either of those or I will kill and bury him in the compost heap and pretend that he is doing fine for the social security payments.
This last episode included the added responsibility of it being a day that I had to be out of the house at 5:30 to be to my companion job by ten til 6. So while loading Mr Footless for his visit to the E-Room we had to speculate on how he could get home again. This was the last straw for me and I sat down with the pump settings and re set them for higher doses in the morning and way lower doses starting in the afternoon and at night.
Mr Footless is happier with the pump than I have seen him. He is getting food when he needs it and not having to stuff himself in the late evening to make it through the night.
In my own front Friday was the up the antibiotics day. I am wondering what the new detox effect will be. So far I have had the vicious headache from the neither parts of hell, (3 days) and then a cold (7 days). The joint and muscle pain and the dragging fatigue aches are way way down.
Part of what I notice is that my mood is some brighter and I am more able to cope with and notice things like picking up junk on the floor. I have noticed it as something hat I didn't like, but I don't think I understood just how little I wanted to make the movements it would take to bend over and pick the stuff up.
Of course being me what do I really notice?
Socks are pouring off my needles.
My hands don't hurt. I ripped through a pair of socks in less than a week, pair number two is galloping off the needles.
I have the energy to have a conversation after I get home from work.
I feel like cooking dinner.
The thought of driving doesn't make me want to cry.
I can think.
That's how I know I am a lot better.
Then we have known that he needed more then and less at night for a while. The specialists have been calibrating in on the proper doses kind of like stalking a lion at the water hole. They keep counseling patience and I have felt very frustrated and unheard as I am trying to explain that if they don't get his levels figured out really soon I will have a dead husband.
Or he will give up on the pump and go back to the injections. Either of those or I will kill and bury him in the compost heap and pretend that he is doing fine for the social security payments.
This last episode included the added responsibility of it being a day that I had to be out of the house at 5:30 to be to my companion job by ten til 6. So while loading Mr Footless for his visit to the E-Room we had to speculate on how he could get home again. This was the last straw for me and I sat down with the pump settings and re set them for higher doses in the morning and way lower doses starting in the afternoon and at night.
Mr Footless is happier with the pump than I have seen him. He is getting food when he needs it and not having to stuff himself in the late evening to make it through the night.
In my own front Friday was the up the antibiotics day. I am wondering what the new detox effect will be. So far I have had the vicious headache from the neither parts of hell, (3 days) and then a cold (7 days). The joint and muscle pain and the dragging fatigue aches are way way down.
Part of what I notice is that my mood is some brighter and I am more able to cope with and notice things like picking up junk on the floor. I have noticed it as something hat I didn't like, but I don't think I understood just how little I wanted to make the movements it would take to bend over and pick the stuff up.
Of course being me what do I really notice?
Socks are pouring off my needles.
My hands don't hurt. I ripped through a pair of socks in less than a week, pair number two is galloping off the needles.
I have the energy to have a conversation after I get home from work.
I feel like cooking dinner.
The thought of driving doesn't make me want to cry.
I can think.
That's how I know I am a lot better.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
report from the front lines
Sometimes strange things are the meat of my existence. The last few weeks have been pretty wild with changes at work and at home and as I have been going along my work load has been going up.
The problem with that has been my chronic pain.
Years ago I began having pain in my joints and inflammation in muscle and joint plus sleeplessness. Fibromyalgia in short. Over time I have more or less made my peace with what I understood was a chronic pain in the ass of a chronic disorder and gotten on with having a life. I don't much complain about hurting and just go about what I was doing.
The problem was that my condition dictated that I work less than forty hours in a week or my condition would force me to do nothing else but sleep the rest of the time. I basically have a cycle of workpainsleepworkpainsleepworkpainsleepwork.
This makes for difficulty when the chips are down and my practice revs up because while it works for about a week it doesn't work for a life.
I had a conversation with My friend who is a doctor and is my landlord at the clinic otherwise known as Mr. Awesome Doc for privacy pruposes.
Mr Awesome Doc showed me some information an using an antibiotic for reducing the pain and inflammation in rhumatological complaints I read up and considered the possibilities and after another week of nothing but workpainsleepwork I decided to go for it.
we are starting out slow. After three days I can report that the inflammation and swelling in my fingers is down and I have a whole lot less pain in my back, shoulders and neck. I am going on from here wondering what will happen next.
it looks promising.
The problem with that has been my chronic pain.
Years ago I began having pain in my joints and inflammation in muscle and joint plus sleeplessness. Fibromyalgia in short. Over time I have more or less made my peace with what I understood was a chronic pain in the ass of a chronic disorder and gotten on with having a life. I don't much complain about hurting and just go about what I was doing.
The problem was that my condition dictated that I work less than forty hours in a week or my condition would force me to do nothing else but sleep the rest of the time. I basically have a cycle of workpainsleepworkpainsleepworkpainsleepwork.
This makes for difficulty when the chips are down and my practice revs up because while it works for about a week it doesn't work for a life.
I had a conversation with My friend who is a doctor and is my landlord at the clinic otherwise known as Mr. Awesome Doc for privacy pruposes.
Mr Awesome Doc showed me some information an using an antibiotic for reducing the pain and inflammation in rhumatological complaints I read up and considered the possibilities and after another week of nothing but workpainsleepwork I decided to go for it.
we are starting out slow. After three days I can report that the inflammation and swelling in my fingers is down and I have a whole lot less pain in my back, shoulders and neck. I am going on from here wondering what will happen next.
it looks promising.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Determination embodied
It Snowed. Mr Footless studied the snow for about ten minutes before he came to a conclusion about how to deal with it.
Independence comes in a lot of flavors. This is one of them.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
An allegory
Imagine that you are sitting on the side of a relatively big hill or a small mountain. And on the mountain there are various roads, paths and ways to be going up and down them. Now on this morning at some point you saw several people rolling a very large stone slowly up towards the peak. There were a lot of people in this project, and the group kept having people join and others drop away for reasons that you might not be aware of. The stone was heavy, lopsided and hard to steer. The people sometimes didn't all agree on the road and sometimes they had to go through some uncharted territory in finding a way to get this stone to the top. So late in the afternoon the residual group of people rolling the stone are almost there at the top. There seems to be a lot of consultation about just what to do next, and a long tense silence.
The next thing you hear is a lot of shouting and a lot of aaaaaaaaaaugh plus crashing and running and thumping. Out of the brush just above you comes this rock rolling, bounding, crashing, bumping and boltering along with the group of people that were there at the last, tearing ass along with it, trying to keep up. It roars by with its attending people who disappear in a cloud of dust running like hell as it heads off into the distance.
Well ladies and gentlemen, That was my rock that just went past and I am running like hell to keep up.
The next thing you hear is a lot of shouting and a lot of aaaaaaaaaaugh plus crashing and running and thumping. Out of the brush just above you comes this rock rolling, bounding, crashing, bumping and boltering along with the group of people that were there at the last, tearing ass along with it, trying to keep up. It roars by with its attending people who disappear in a cloud of dust running like hell as it heads off into the distance.
Well ladies and gentlemen, That was my rock that just went past and I am running like hell to keep up.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
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