Wednesday, April 26, 2017

The Art of Asking.

So, yeah. I find myself depressed lately. The real cause is, I am sure, my allergies and the enormous amount of pollen the surrounds me. I get that. But still, I feel as though I am in a fog, I forget names, I cannot count, I feel stupid, I feel old and all those things are contributing to my depression. I also have little drive to make things, and I like to make things. 

I’m no longer on any antidepressants, and for that, I am grateful. But damn I wish I could take something, drink something, do something to make me feel if not better, then different. But because it is allergies and the inflammation that they cause, I can only treat the allergies and stay inside and stay clean. (Yeah, stay clean with 3 dogs, 2 cats, and 3 chickens to tend and live with.) I take 2 generic Zyrtec, nasal spray, and a Benadryl every day. Every day no matter the season or how I feel. I also get an allergy shot every week or two. 

So, there’s that. That is how I feel regularly, on a daily basis. And today it’s raining and I like that because it is cooler and the plants need the water, and it’s gray, and so I can stay inside with no explanations. 

It’s been a long time since I have written here but I post in my mind. Which do my 2 readers no good. There are things I would like to write about but cannot because this is too public. I turned 60 a couple of months ago. Fuck me, how can I be so old? My surrogate mother, who is 85, is moving away in a month and I miss her already. I haven’t had sex with my husband in 4 years, but we still make a great couple. 

One good thing is that I have hired a woman to come clean for me. Marie vacuums, dusts, mops, and works magic in the kitchen and every few weeks she cleans the fur that seems to grow in the bathroom. I like having a clean house but I am a terrible housekeeper. So, Marie makes me happy.

I am the head of a non-profit arts organization, and that gives me an outlet for my abilities since I unable to work at a ‘real’ job. I get to write and plan and do my bit for my community. There’s no money for me, but I have a leftist disregard for profit and being a volunteer takes the pressure off.

Ah hell, I cannot seem to write everything I want to convey! (Yet, who cares but me?)  In the end, it’s just the struggle between the meaningless of living versus the actual having to do something in this life. 

I have pictures.
Succulents and high heels. 

Orange geranium that overwintered amazingly well.

Princess on the new afghan I made. She never sat in that chair before this.

Larson. Say no more.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Look up.

Yeah. So. I feel better. I had a heart operation 5 weeks ago, (ablation, outpatient,) which corrected my atrial flutter. I now have energy! My brain is less foggy! I am nowhere near as dizzy! My blood is, I guess, getting circulated to all parts of my body again, so I would call the operation was a success. Yay.

So yesterday, I moved some furniture and lifted and toted a bunch of things and after 2 hours, my body said Hey! Cut it out! Sit down! What was wrong? I came home and napped and tried to think why my body ached so bad then it hit me - I had been using my long dormant muscles! I have not been able to lift and shove and twist (and shout) for quite awhile! Now I know that I need to pace myself and maybe even start lifting weights again.

Then there’s the whole Cheeto thing. Jesus Christ. Right after the election, I was sick. Literally sick. But now I am able to visit Facebook, read some news, and the Pussy Hat thing made me happy. I mean, really, that march made me feel hope! I even cried a little.

And talk about crying! Sweetie and I saw the latest Star Wars and I wept at the final scene! I shit you not. I was not expecting that, especially right after, you know. No spoilers. I remember seeing the first Star Wars movie in ’77. First husband, (the Shit hook,) and I saw it the first day, second showing at Loew’s Tara in Atlanta. And we were tripping our balls off. It was great. I remember that there were souvenirs being hawked while we stood in line - cups, buttons, etc., and of course, we didn’t buy anything. Good times, though.

So. Planning to go to Iceland, late summer or fall. We finally sold our big house in Laconia and have a little cash to spend on a real vacation. 

So, I made these. Meh.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Fun investment.

I feel like I am a total loser failure. I know I’m not - not really, but that is how I FEEL. (Also? It’s a cool, grey day with a light drizzle. Oh joy.)

I got so lost in Greater Saint Louis yesterday, trying to find my heart specialist. 5 times lost. It began with going to the wrong location, and went downhill from there. Finally, at the desk of the heart and vascular building, the nice woman looked up my doctor and said, “Oh, he’s not here. You need to go…” and that’s when I started crying. (It was my fault not having asked two weeks ago for precise directions. I am usually so prepared with maps and written directions.)

So the nice woman got a wheelchair and wheeled me through secret passages and along quiet corridors and down on the elevator and finally delivered me to the right place. I was only 1 minute late for my appointment. I hate getting so upset because it seems to take days to recover and today I am still recovering.

Then there was the bank statement kerfluffle. It was figured out and it was my fault, too. Shit. But, no harm, no foul.

Is this what getting older means? Making stupid mistakes all the time? That’s a legitimate fear to have.

Good things are these: the bank thing was solved by phone, meaning I didn’t have to leave the house and also, I ordered Chinese take out for lunch so I didn’t have to cook.

Other good thing: I have sold a bunch of my little knit socks earrings, and 4 more will be picked up tomorrow. I still need to knit 2 of those pair, but that will be a nice chore. I have been knitting and watching Amazon video, in particular Forensic Files. Love that show! 22 minutes per episode and all loose ends get wrapped up. Very satisfying.

Okay, here’s a bad thing, good thing. Something got into the chicken coop after my girls! When? I don’t know! I lifted up the lid to check for eggs in the nest box, and this is what I saw!

Where are they? What happened here?

And then I noticed this!

I feared the worst, because I didn't see any of the hens, so I made my Come and Get It call - Cheeep Cheep Cheeep and Porkchop came running. She's fine, if a little worse for wear. She had a wound on her wing, not too bad. I put anti-robotic on it.) The other two girls were outside the fence, but they were alive still.

This is Dorothy. Looks like she got a hunk of feathers torn out. (She wouldn't let me pick her up to check.) I'm thinking cat. I'm also thinking Porkchop fought whateveritwas off, because she can be quite aggressive.

So, tonight they will be totally cooped up. If they were younger pullets, I am not sure they would have survived this attack.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

I'm a Doctor, Jim, not a sheep herder!

So this makes me happy. Love me some Vince.

And this scene makes me happy, too, in a subversive way. As always, clicking embiggens.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Releives joint discomfort

I fucking hate people sometimes. often. Especially stupid people. One of our Arts Council's board member's husband is gravely ill. I asked the other members to maybe make some food for them, and I would deliver it. One would think I asked them an algebra question. What should I make? they ask. Food, godamit. It is not hard. Soup. Fucking chex mix. Sandwiches. I have been angry about this all morning and I thought that if I put it on virtual paper, I might feel better. I mean, I try to do something nice and now it has turned into an organizational nightmare. Fuckers.

So. I am seeing another cardiologist, after my last one, Dr. Tran and his team at the Missouri Heart Center dropped me through a crack in their system. LSS, I had a procedure in JULY, for fuck's sake, and was sent home with a paper saying they would contact and make an appointment for me. I quote: Dr. Tran's office will contact you to set up an appointment with Dr. Botteron. Nobody fucking contacted me and I kept waiting, feeling sicker as summer dragged on. So when I finally did call them, I figured something would happen. When I called again, a week later, I was told that my previous call had been duly posted in my record. And not a damn thing had been done. So, I lost my mind. And burst into tears. You know, tears do work, but the situation should never have happened where tears were needed. So, fuck them. And the horse they came in on.

I asked my primary care provider to set me up with a new cardiologist in her network. I have seen the new guy. He spent time with me and seemed to really listen and I have an appointment with the even-more-specialist next week. What I like about this group is that they use email, as though they actually exist in the 21st century. They are in contact with me. Novel!

The solstice approaches. Another month of darkness by 5 pm. A new year, an imaginary new slate, a fresh calendar. I am doing my best to keep my mood up, although it's hard. I've gained weight. Not a lot, but 5 pounds makes a difference in how some of my clothes fit. I do try to eat right and I do try to walk 8-12 blocks with the dogs daily, but still.

It could be worse. I know. I could be in war torn Syria. So, I'm trying hard to cheer up, to keep upbeat, to try and not melt away into despair. Even though the president-elect makes me sick in the pit of my stomach.

I've been knitting, so there's that. Socks for Sweetie, maybe 3 pair this month. Last night I began the Baa Baa Bobble hat and am up to the sheep, and it's interesting and fun enough. Makes me eager to finish each round. I listen to No Such Thing as a Fish. That makes me happy. They are on Youtube also, with No Such Thing as the News. And we watched the first season of True Detective last week and we were both sucked in deep. And I've been trying to read Version Control, which is about time travel, but don't call it that! It makes me dream about time travel!

But one last thing. Both Sweetie and his younger brother have bad feelings about December 2017. Sweetie's take happens on the 17th, brother's on the 27th. Bad like in the world coming to an end. Well, that has scared me. I hope it is closer to home, some tragedy in the family, and not some huge meteor or something. Still, Sweetie wants us to be in Iceland by the 14th of December.

So, that's a plan.

Thursday, September 29, 2016

You may feel a sting.

Looking at Pinterest just makes me depressed. Oh, look at that! I could do that! Yes, let's try that! Oh yeah, I have a rigid heddle loom! Yes, I could sell my handspun yarn on Etsy! How clever is that!

And in the end, I am overwhelmed and I log out. Maybe I'll just sit here and finish this monster sock for sweetie. I call it that because I am using leftover bits of yarn from socks I have knit. I at least am making them mostly identical twins so they aren't entirely hideous. Not that Sweetie minds.

I have gone back to making a "regular" heel flap because the Strong heel and the Afterthought heel don't fit as well.

So, instead of doing anything else, I sit and knit on these. Procrastination is what it is. Well, that and a  certain lack of focus. My brain seems to be in a fog lately and it makes it hard to think beyond the now.

I have reopened my Etsy shop. I made a light box and took good photos of my felt pieces and I have almost 50 views and 10 favorites, which is better than my last foray. I have other items just waiting to be photographed and listed and it just seems beyond me. It just seems to be so much work and I am tired and I feel like crying half of the time for no particular reason. I am not keen to go back on medication, though.

One that note, I finally have an appointment with a heart specialist. Since the 2 tries at cardioversion in July did not work, this is the next step, I reckon. Since my heart is arrhythmic much of the time, and my blood is not circulating properly, I am tired. I had such hopes that the cardioversion would work for me, because it does for 80% of patients, according to my cardiologist. I was depressed afterward, of course.

So. The next procedure will be more invasive: a needle inserted into my thigh and threaded up to my heart where parts of the heart muscle will be cauterized. The thinking is that this will interrupt the electrical circuit that is causing the arrhythmia. It will be an overnight stay in St. Louis. If that does not work, the next step may be open heart surgery and I don't like the thought of that. Maybe it means that how I am currently is how I will have to be, and there are worse things. I mean, my knees and hips are fine. I know too many people who have had those bits replaced. I don't have arthritis, so my hands and fingers work fine. My other internal parts seem to be working well.

Always Look at the Bright Side of Life
Corky is feeling better, at least.

Monday, August 22, 2016

Unabridged and complete.

Yesterday, the weather was beautiful with a high in the 70s, low humidity, and pretty blue skies. And I felt good for the first time in weeks! Very pleasurable. Today seems to be the same, but a little warmer.

After frogging the never-ending garter stitch shawl, I began making these. Some will become earrings, others will be tree ornaments. The eggs are for scale and to prove that the chickens are laying.

And this is 1 of 5 reasons we have furniture, apparently.