Friday, June 29, 2012

Stormy Weather

Some storms are unwelcome, but this one was not.
It was a beauty.


A wall of clouds came at us so fast I barely got the camera in time.


It was a matter of minutes before the winds gusted to 60 miles per hour.
The temperature dropped 20 degrees which was a blessing.
We don't usually see this many 100+ degree days in June.


Then the rain came. Glorious rain. It's been weeks since we saw rain.
The grass is dead, the lilacs and hydrangeas wilted.
Everything is desperate for rain.

We only got 1/4 inch, but there is another storm on the way.
I couldn't be happier about bad weather.

And happy to have something make me want to pick up the camera. 
These are the first pictures I've taken in almost a month. 
Two record dry spells broken in one weather front.

Hope your weather is good to you too.


Apologies to Billy and Lena, but Etta's version is my favorite.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Lighten up, Francis

If you're a Bill Murray fan, you get the title. If not, you should watch Stripes for some silly fun.

I've been wondering for a while why some blogs have wider spaces for text, and peeved that mine was so narrow. The way my life works, whenever I try to fix something that ain't broke, I really break it. Like updating software for my phone or computer or rearranging digital files. I've got a knack for turning expensive electronics into bricks. I'm sure you can imagine.

I haven't fussed with the template on blogger for years, because, well, I'm me and I hate blogger. But my yearning for more space got the best of me, and who knew? They added little slidey bars to allow you to designate space for the text and the sidebar. Very exciting discovery for me today.So while I was at it, I lightened things up a bit. My metaphor for the summer. Lighten up. The mood. The load. The to do list. The guilt. The anger. The couldashouldawoulda's. All of it.

This is my summer of floating downstream, where ever the flow takes me. I'm giving in and letting go, just to see what happens. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to widen the text space for my life while I'm at it. And shrink all the stuff in the sidebar. If you knew what a type A control freak worrier I have become, you'd understand that this is a really huge deal for me. I micromanage minutia. Well I'm looking to turn over a new leaf here.

This is what I'm considering the upside to surgery and physical and mental limitations. Lighten up and let it go. From all I've read, it will be almost a month before my brain works like it used to, if I'm lucky, and a few months before I'm sleeping better, and maybe a few more until my insides are all patched up. So I'm going to keep thinking about Francis, and how he needs to just lighten the hell up. The only thing I don't plan on lightening is my hair color, though I'm thinking I could do with half the length. Long hair is more work than I'm interested in lately. And I'm feeling pretty lazy right now.

Hope you like the lighter template, hope it's easier on the eyes. Hope your loads are lighter too, and why did that just make me think of laundry? Oh well, baby steps.

Here's the theme song for this summer. Just Breathe. Thank you Anna Nalick.

Life's like an hourglass glued to the table. 
No one can find the rewind button here so just
cradle your head in your hands and breathe...


Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Where the Hell is Matt?

If you don't know who Matt is, it's time you got acquainted. He has some of the most compelling, smile and tear inducing videos on youtube. He travels, does a little dance and invites locals to join him. This new one is a little different, as he joins the world in learning some new dances.

Matt is my hero, and a true ambassador for world peace. Enjoy.




If you want to see his earlier videos, which are equally inspiring, tear and smile inducing, here's his web page.

wherethehellismatt

Click on the videos in the upper right corner to see more magic.

xo

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Sunday Soliluquy

Thanks for all the kind, supportive comments last week. They were just what the doctor ordered.

I'm healing up very well, so well in fact that it's hard to remember not to do things. I'm day two with no pain meds, and only when I reach or move wrong does my body remind me that some serious shit went down on my insides. I'm kind of turtling, which I suppose is normal, letting the world spin without me, trying not to get worked up about anything. Well maybe one thing.

I got a burr up my butt about the family not thinking to ask if I needed anything when they were making their own snacks or meals. I'm proud of their self sufficiency in the face of my recuperation, but sometimes you start to feel like the dog, waiting for someone to notice your bowl is empty. So I let them know how I felt, which was a little bitter and neglected for having to ask for the help I told them in advance I'd need. So they all came at once and asked if they could get me anything and I said yes, a caring family. Yeah, I went there. My son was confused and said I don't get it, if you need something, just ask and I'll get it for you. I said having to ask, ask ask instead of having someone offer or notice, is very difficult for me. Wasn't feeling the love. Sad they didn't get the nurture gene.  I think now they're trying a little harder, I'm learning to ask a little more and I'm getting better every day and can make my own damn sandwich, if that's what I want. I won't be really cooking or cleaning or doing laundry or dishes for another month, so you can bet I'll be asking or telling, if that's what it takes, for those things to get done.

My husband and daughter are in Florida now for the Junior volleyball Nationals, so it's me and my son for a week. So far, so good, he's remembering to ask and I'm learning to tell. I've ventured out of the house twice, chauffeured, for provisions, some scenery and some quick fresh food. I've watched lots of tv, including the entire series of Grimm, which I enjoyed and now I'm looking for the next series to inhale. Books are still not holding my interest, which is a shame, with all this time and 282 unread books laying about. Probably 182 of them will never get read, or aren't worth reading, but they're on my  to-be-read list mocking me anyway. Maybe next week I'll be able to concentrate or care enough to read something with some meat on the bones. Or at least purge the list :)

I'm sadly and acutely aware that it is Father's Day, that my family is in separate states, and my father is four years gone. I was going to write a post about him but I got so lost in the pictures I couldn't get it done. What can I say? I miss him. He was a great guy. He taught me so much. He loved with his whole heart and he made everyone laugh, especially me. I don't have a lot of pictures of him and me, because I'm usually behind the camera. But I found a few.





He sure knew how to live, and how to rock the stripes and plaids.
Happy Father's Day.
xxoo




Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Good, the Bad and the Boring


I've been a bad blogger, but I have a good excuse. I had all my reproductive organs removed and my bladder repaired by an excellent doctor and a Da Vinci robot. Much less painful than standard abdominal surgery I'm told, though I've no frame of reference. I do know I prefer not to have holes in my abdomen and stitches in my innards in general, and am grateful it's not worse, because it feels pretty icky so far. I had a pretty bad stomach reaction to the antibiotics,  which sucked, plus a couple of ditzy aftercare nurses who were late with the pain meds after they got me up walking, which sucked some more. I had a little breakdown and cried for a few hours, but that was my only low point. I learned to stay on top of pain versus getting under it that day, and now that I'm home and in charge of me, the way I like it, I'm managing much better. As long as I stay away from the mirror and the scale, I'm in pretty good spirits. Gaining 10 pounds in 2 days isn't pretty.

I learned I don't like vicodin, and I'm not sure what all the hoopla is about. I had way better recreational barbituates in the 70's and I'd never pick this one for my daily fix, if I were an addict. I've already weaned myself to half the dosage with a little help from advil and xanax and it's working pretty good for me so far.

What's not really working for me is sitting on my ass having people bring me things. No driving, cooking or cleaning for 2 weeks. No bending, gardening or anything, really, that might strain those stitches until things patch themselves up. So my big adventure today was a shower. Yesterday I came downstairs. Both was too much to ask just yet.

My husband has been a sweetie, making sure I'm fine and want for nothing. My teenagers respond very promptly to my texts when I need something. Who knew technology would come in this handy for convalescence? I remember what a self centered lazy thing I was as a teen, so I don't mind that they're not hovering over me, or remembering to check in or walk or water the dog. I just tell them what to do and they do it. Not ideal, but perfectly functional.

I have books piled up, tv shows queued up, magazines in stacks, but nothing has managed to hold my interest yet except my beloved internet and the occasional crossword puzzle. So thanks, bloggy friends for helping keep me amused while I sit on my edema enlarged butt and try not to think of all the things I'd rather be doing. I'm determined to be a good little patient and heal on schedule, no complications and certainly no corrective surgery if I don't follow my instructions. Lovely Dr. Song told me enough horror stories to curl my toes, so I'm being a very good girl.

So good news, my surgery went fine. The week leading up to the surgery was great. My mom's visit for graduation went well. (I was a little worried, since she hasn't visited us in 8 years, and I haven't visited her in 3. Long story. But it was all good.) I walked five miles with my husband watching our son compete in a golf tournament on a lovely course on a beautiful day last weekend, and watched our daughter play her first round of sand volleyball, which was a blast. To cap it all off,  I took my husband to one of those lovely old concert halls to see Todd Rundgren perform with the Rockford Symphony Orchestra and it was wonderful. Todd sang his heart out, and since he was not travelling with a chorus, on his fan favorites, like Can We Still Be Friends, he whipped out his baton and conducted us as we sang it for him. I could have cried I was so happy. I love Todd beyond explanation.


So, bad news, the robin nest is sad and empty. Four eggs became 3, one little hatchling disappeared, then nothing at all in the nest. Abandoned and lonely. It's hard not to be heartbroken at such things. My guess is ravens or jays ate them because that nest was chipmunk proof. Nature is cruel in her ways.

The first of the baby opossums, the sweet and quiet cuddly one did not survive. No news yet on the remaining 10, but they were pretty darn active and voracious eaters while I had them, so I'm hopeful. I wonder though, with the rescue inundated with babies, if they are more susceptible to disease and have higher mortality?

Worst news of all, my beloved cousin Lee, struggling to navigate life with early onset Alzheimer's, lost her husband to cancer at the too young age of 63 last week. He had 5 days from diagnosis to death. Maybe he knew and hid it from her, maybe he was hoping to last longer, we don't know. But in those 5 days he got everything in order, there was nothing to do but decide what room in the house he wanted to die in. Being Frank, he changed his mind a time or two. He was an original, a funny, honorable man, who could tell stories and jokes for days and never run out. He knew the Chesapeake and Assateague bays inside and out and was one of those pillars of the community: former navy, volunteer fireman, mason, shriner, fisherman, sportsman, and he was Lee's best friend and her rock. They had a lot of good years together and a tight knit community of 300 who loved them both, and its a comfort to know they'll be looking out for her now that he can't. She said it's such a strange thing, to recall the names of everyone she's ever known, and to remember in vivid details events from the past, and yet not remember how to make toast, or work the phone, or make the bed. I'm aching inside to get better and fly back east to sit with her and watch the sun set over the bay. Some of my best memories from childhood happened in that tiny town, with her and my cousins. I wish I didn't live half a continent away, it breaks my heart a little just to think about the distance and how long since I've been back to visit. This is the view from her back yard.

So that wraps up the good news, the bad news and I guess the boring news. I've become the old woman who talks about her health woes, how did that happen. At least I didn't show you the glossy robot pictures the doctor gave me. Gak - too much information! Which reminds me, other good news, my liver looks great, which is a miracle considering what I put it through in the first half of my life.

Hope all's glossy and fine in your neck of the woods, and that your good news outweighs your bad.

xo