Thursday Thirteen

1. I no longer post much on Facebook. I have opinions and information on things, but usually I just let it roll on by. Yesterday, someone posted about the county courthouse, which is empty and will soon be torn down. The current structure is one that was rebuilt in 1975 to replace an historic structure (built in 1848) that burned in 1970. This was my response to the complaints that (1) blamed the county administrator and (2) said this was an historic building. I posted it but then deleted it. I know a lot about this project because I was writing about it from the beginning, plus I have covered other courthouse renovations in other areas when I was a news reporter. There is no talking sense to some people.

Redoing/changing/rebuilding a courthouse is a long process that begins not with the Board of Supervisors but with the judiciary. The state has mandates that the courts must meet as far as ADA, safety, security, etc., and at some point (no I don't know when, best guess is 2010), the judges went to the county and said, we need to meet these mandates. There was a lot of study, a lot of meetings, etc., over a period of years if not a decade, before this began to become a reality. And no offense to anyone who helped construct this replica of the historic structure that burned, but the construction was not the best because the money, which was mostly raised by the community in an effort spearheaded at least in part by my husband's grandmother, wasn't there to build the best. In the end, there was black mold, there were lots of leaks not only in the roof but in the brick itself and into the walls. I saw this for myself. It had become so tainted with mold that I personally could no longer go into the building because of my asthma. I hate to see this structure removed just as much as anyone else but there comes a time when older things must go. This structure, as it exists, is an historic replica. It is not historic in and of itself. The things it houses are historic, but the people who must work in it are as important as the documents it holds, and if you wouldn't work in a building full of mold, then county employees should be given that same grace. This is something that needs to be done. In the end, it will be a benefit to the county, to the community, and to Fincastle. Yes, it will change the look of Fincastle, but so did Dollar General, and I bet a lot of you don't hesitate to stop in there.

2. I have more reactions to medication than anyone I know. I was using Nasacort for my ear infection at my doctor's orders and ended up with a yeast infection in a lower orifice.  The yeast infection cleared up almost instantly when I stopped using the nasal spray. These synthetic steroids do not sit well with me.

3. The ground is white with ice and snow. It is more ice than snow, but it snowed first and then crusted over with ice. The temperatures here are well below freezing and not expected to rise anytime in next week. My driveway is icy and I cannot get the car out. I do not ride in my husband's truck because it smells like hay. It's a work truck so it's supposed to smell like hay.

4. I actually like the smell of freshly cut grass, but my body does not. Talk about an allergy-inducing time! When my husband mows the yard in the summer, I go for a drive.

5. I used to mow the yard, back in the 1990s, but I stayed sick and my doctor finally told me I should stop. Then my husband bought a bigger yard tractor, and it was so big that I had to sit on the lip of the seat in order to reach the pedals, and the tractor wouldn't run unless there was weight on the back of the seat, so that ended that. I actually liked mowing the yard. There's a satisfaction in mowing kind of like cleaning up a big mess - you can see the result of what you just did.

6. Fires rage in California again. My husband's cousin has evacuated; she's in the Eaton (?) fire area. She's safe now, but we don't know if she still has a place to live. I have friends online who live in California, too, who are near or close to evacuating. All are without power. One of them called electricity "magical," and when you don't have it and you get it back, it certainly feels that way.

7. Just think of all the things we couldn't do if the electric grid went down. The world as we know it would stop. Eventually, you couldn't even drive because it takes electricity to make petrol and car parts. We'd be back to steam powered, or possibly solar or nuclear power. We take so much for granted, don't we?

8. I read the Kondo book about decluttering. I can't say I took much away from it - that kind of minimalist lifestyle sounds nice but that much cleaning up would take energy I don't have. I did find it interesting that she thanks her things. As in, thank you computer for working so I can write this blog. Thank you, shoes, for taking care of my feet today. I went around for a few days thanking my stuff, and while I can't say that anything I thanked performed any better, I did find it a sort of peaceful gratitude exercise. 

9. I am trying to stay away from politics on my blog these days. I probably won't succeed (see #1 above), but I am not going to change anyone's mind about anything, and people will just have to F around and find out what's about to happen. Maybe I'm wrong and authoritarianism and oligarchy will be the greatest thing ever, but I kind of doubt it.

10. My most recent book reading was The Women, by Kristin Hannah. It was about women who were nurses in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. It was quite engrossing.

11. My friend's mother fell earlier this week, and she is in the hospital with a brain bleed. She is 94 years old. I am quite concerned.

12. I would rather write about good things. What's good? Well, we still have our electricity - I know about 100K in Virginia lost power during the ice storm, but we were lucky. The roads are clear if you can get out on them.

13. Growing old is not fun. What a cruel trick to play on humanity. 

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Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 888th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

Sick Again

I wrote on December 29 that we were both sick.

I got better. My husband stayed sick.

Now he is getting better, a little, and I am sick. Again.

I had a teleconference with my doctor, and she put me on a different antibiotic because of another ear infection. I must have a left ear that doesn't drain properly.

At any rate, we are making out as well as we can with both of us feeling poorly. Fortunately, we haven't both been at our worst at the same time.

Unfortunately, my driveway is a sheet of ice and the pickup truck is the only vehicle that can get in and out at the moment, which means that if he takes a turn for the worse, there isn't much I can do as far as fetching medicine or groceries.

He did a grocery parking lot pickup yesterday to ensure we had some food here. Since we are expecting more snow, this may have been a crucial stop. And he was out again today picking up my antibiotic.

This is a nasty something, whatever it is. We have tested negative for Covid, so I guess it's just a bad virus, along with my ear infection.

We Had Ice, Ice Baby

 

Hope v. Expectation

"Hope is the thing with feathers," says Emily Dickinson in one of her more famous poems.

It is also something I often feel I am at a deficit in.

Last night I asked my husband what the difference was between "expectation" and "hope." He said they were the same.

I said they were not.

These are the types of discussions I like to have, debates about ideas and philosophies and such. But he is not one to debate.

"When you go to the store, and I think, "Maybe he'll bring me a box of Tic Tacs," what is that?" I asked him.

"A hope, because it seldom happens," he said.

"If I tell you something in the house is broken, am I hoping you will fix it, or do I expect you to fix it?" I replied.

"You're doing both," he said.

And then I have to nag to get it fixed, I replied. And thus ended our conversation.

So, what is the difference between an expectation and a hope?

The kind of intersect, don't they? You can have both, for sure. They relate to our perception of the future and our desires for it.

An expectation is a belief that something will happen based on evidence, reasoning, or prior experience. For example, I expect my husband to fix a leaking sink because he has done so in the past. I do not expect him to pick up his dirty clothes because he doesn't do that often. So, expectations are often tied to specific outcomes, and its foundation is in predictability. I always expected to receive good grades in school, for example. I didn't hope for them. I prepared for tests and did the work necessary for the grade. I expected to be rewarded for my effort with a grade commensurate with the effort I put into it. Expectations are an anticipation that a certain result will materialize.

Hope, on the other hand, is more abstract. It is the optimistic yearning for a positive outcome. I hope my husband will bring me Tic Tacs, but whether he thinks to do that is out of my control (I never call and say, "Bring me Tic Tacs," because the point is I want him to think of me and show me that he does. The Tic Tacs are not the desired goal, really. The display of affection is.) Hope is not confined to logic, effort, or evidence. It is a forward-looking emotional state that allows people to endure hardships, persist in the face of adversity, and dream of possibilities that may seem distant or improbable. For example, we hope someone who is very ill will get better, or we hope we will live long enough to see a human walk on Mars.

The element of control seems to be crucial to the difference between expectation and hope. Expectations are often grounded in the belief that we can influence or predict outcomes. They are rooted in what we perceive as the logical progression of events, and unmet expectations can lead to disappointment or frustration. For instance, if I expect a promotion at work based on my performance and it does not happen, the emotional fallout may be intense, as the expectation was built on tangible evidence. I once angrily quit a job because of a situation like this, a job that in hindsight I should have stayed at.

Hope, however, thrives in uncertainty. It is most potent in situations where control is limited and outcomes are unpredictable. Right now, with ice on the fences and trees, I am hoping the power does not go out. Experience tells me that is a possibility but the odds in realty favor it staying on. I remember my mother held out great hope for her recovery from pancreatic cancer even though the odds were very much against that. Hope can provide comfort and motivation, not because the desired outcome is guaranteed, but because the possibility exists. Hope transcends the boundaries of logic and control, acting as a source of emotional strength.

The emotional consequences of expectation and hope also differ. When expectations are met - when my husband fixes the leaking sink - they can bring satisfaction, but their fulfillment often feels transactional—a simple alignment of reality with pre-established assumptions. However, when expectations are not met, they can lead to bitterness, dissatisfaction, or even a sense of failure, as unmet expectations challenge our perceived control over life. For example, his not fixing the sink would lead to a lot of nagging on my part, creating an uncomfortable scenario for both of us until he fixed the blasted sink.

Hope, though, is more forgiving. If I hope (not expect) that he will fix the sink but doesn't, I eventually either fix it myself (I have many skills) or call a plumber. It doesn't become a personal failure because he didn't do as I asked. Hope nurtures resilience, as it allows individuals to remain optimistic and forward-looking despite setbacks (it would be why I call the plumber). While unfulfilled expectations can close doors, hope keeps possibilities alive.

So what do you think, dear reader? Are expectations and hope two different things? Branches from the same tree? Can you have expectation without hope? Are they two sides of the same coin? Both can influence how we perceive and approach the future. While expectation is grounded in logic, control, and predictability, hope is rooted in optimism, possibility, and resilience. I often say I need to live my life without expectations, because ultimately, expecting people to do what they say they will or behave in a way that their actions indicate, leads to let down. Do you find that to be true? Or am I simply expecting too much out of other people?

Well, I have sat here and discussed this with myself long enough. I think that expectations and hope are different things. I also think I have too many expectations and not enough hope. I wonder if there is some way to turn that around.

Saturday 9: Something New

Saturday 9: Something New (2017)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

Welcome to the first Saturday 9 of 2025.

1) We're beginning the year with a song about new beginnings. What is something new you'd like to try in 2025?

A. I'd like to find a new massage therapist. Mine retired.

2) The lyrics recall what was said "in the mist of the midnight hour." Where were you when the new year dawned?

A. I was in bed when the clock rolled over. 

3) The Axwell of Axwell and Ingrosso is Axel Hedfors. He began as a drummer and moved on to experimenting musically on the computer, eventually mastering music sequencer software. Do you consider yourself more a technophile like Axwell, who loves technology and digital devices, or more a technophobe, anxious about learning new programs?

A. I enjoy learning new devices and such, but also dislike having to relearn a program I should already know (like a new incarnation of MS Word), so perhaps a cross between the two.

4) His musical partner is Sebastian Ingrosso. Sebastian became interested in dance music when he accompanied his father, a choreographer, to the studio. When you were young, did you ever go to work with either of your parents?

A. I remember my father taking me and my brother with him on some sales call. School was out for some reason and apparently there was no one to keep us; we were quite young. Mostly I remember it was a long ride in mountainous country and my father was not happy we were along for the ride.

5) Axwell & Ingrosso gave their premiere performance at the 2014 Governors Ball Music Festival in New York City and their last concert at the 2017 Ultra Music Fest in Miami. Looking back on 2024, did you attend any outdoor music or theater performances?

A. I did not attend any performances.

6) In 2017, when "Something New" was released, we lost the TV star who could "turn the world on with her smile." Without looking it up, do you know who that is?

A. That would have been Mary Tyler Moore, right?

7) Also in 2017, Today Show anchor Hoda Kotb announced she had adopted her first child. Do you know anyone who is adding to their family in 2025?

A. I do not know of anyone who adding to their family in the upcoming year.

8) Have you made any New Year's resolutions for 2025?

A. I do not make New Year's resolutions, but I have set some small goals, which you can read here.

9) What was the first thing to make you laugh in 2025?

A. I'm not sure that's happened yet.

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I encourage you to visit the posts of other participants in Saturday 9 and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however. 

Thursday Thirteen

I don't make resolutions for the new year. They are easily forgotten and broken. Instead, I will set some little goals.

1. Continue walking at least 20 minutes most days.

2. Eat better.

3. Call my father once a week.

4. Write a little every day, even if it's just a short paragraph (or a blog post).

5. See the chiropractor and try to get my back/shoulders/arm working properly so I can get back to playing my guitar.

6. Read more books. I listened to a lot of books last year, but I need to read more. I'm having some trouble with my eyes, hence the 60+ audiobooks in 2024, but still. I like to read.

7. Spend less time on video games.

8. Curb my tongue and hold my temper around my husband.

9. Get the taxes for 2024 done ASAP and keep up better with the 2025 bookkeeping. I did better in 2024 - I am not that far behind - but if I would do it even more frequently it would help.

10. Remove clutter.

11. Sell a few guitars to free up closet space.

12. Write letters to my aunt and my cousin.

13. Donate to charities.

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Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 888th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

Happy New Year!

Well, here it is, the big day! A brand-new start for everyone.

Whatcha gonna do with your time this year?

Work?

Read?

Play?

Daydream?

Exercise?

Eat?

Walk?

Swim?

Talk?

All of the above and then some?

Whatever the year brings for you, dear reader, I hope you enjoy it, and that your life is blessed.

The Zone

Last night I could stand it no longer, and I pulled my electric Fender guitar from its case, plugged it into my amp, and played.

I haven't touched it in about a year. I've been having trouble with my shoulder and my left arm, and playing is painful. I occasionally pick up a tiny little tinny sounding Yamaha that I bought because it weighs next to nothing, but it is not the same as playing on a fine instrument.

My lack of practice was obvious. I flinched at the boo boos in chords, the missed noting, the overreach on frets.

And then finally, I forgot to be conscious of how bad I sounded, and I just played. I don't know if it sounded good - I doubt it did - but for a few minutes there, I found that sweet, delicate space that said, "I am making my music, I am me, I am doing what I want, and to hell with everything else."

Today my left arm and shoulder was so sore I could barely carry in the groceries, but it was worth it.

So worth that I am going to do it again here in a few minutes, pain and tendonitis and whatever else is wrong be damned.

Those few minutes of finding that sound is indescribable to someone who hasn't experienced it. It's like a runner hitting the zone during a track meet. Or the basketball player on a hot streak. Or the writer who has found what she needs to get the words flowing.

It's the zone, baby. It's the zone. It's like a drug, that zone.

Listen to the music. Write the words. Find the song.

Oh man, I need to find my song.

That Stinks!

Now we both are sick.

I was on an antibiotic before Christmas, having developed a raging ear infection that required an intervention. By the big day, I was feeling better, but I also knew it wasn't gone. It still wasn't gone Friday when I finished up the antibiotic. I wrote my doctor, and she said to try a nasal steroid, which I have. I only have sharp pains in my ear every now and then and a bit of fatigue and fog brain.

My husband woke in the night Saturday night with congestion. Covid test - negative. A head cold, we think, possibly from the great niece or nephew who climbed all over him like he was a set of monkey bars when we saw them over the holidays, or from running all over Lowes and Home Depot trying to find something to fix an issue we are having in the bathroom.

We have a smelly drain in the shower.

He cannot smell it. It has been smelling for some time, and I kept waiting on him to say something. He never did, and when it reached the point where I thought I might throw up in the shower, I asked him what he was waiting for to fix that problem - and he told me he didn't smell a thing. I don't know how he could not, but whatever.

Anyway, he pulled off the shower drain cover, and there was lots of muck about it, and he cleaned that off, and then we doused the drain line with vinegar and baking soda, then a little bleach.

That did not take care of the problem.

So, we went off to one of the hardware stores on the day after Christmas. I wore a mask. He did not. We found a new drain cover and he picked up a scrub brush and some other things he thought would help, including Drano.

Then he sat to work scrubbing and cleaning the drain. He went back to the hardware store again for some bio enzyme sticks to put in there, too. He told me he stopped and talked to several people he knew, and he didn't mask up, either. He could have picked up some virus anywhere.

The smell is much improved but not gone. Yesterday, he dumped more vinegar and baking soda down the drain, and then he ran a water line through the clean-out line to the septic tank, which indicated nothing was stopped up there. He also poured water down the drain of the bathroom with a tub we do not use (we use it for storage) in case that was adding to the issue.

And there's still a smell that he cannot smell. It is better, but it is still there (fortunately not as sickening, but an indication of a problem). Now he is sick and I honestly don't know what else to try. We're on a septic tank and you can only pour so much bleach down the drain before you mess up the bacteria in the septic tank.

We are now putting baking soda in the drain before and after every shower. The hotter the shower, the more it stinks, so I am taking lukewarm showers. That is definitely a wake-up call in the morning.

We will return to trying to address this issue again when he feels more like dealing with it. In the meantime, I will be learning to hold my breath while under water.

Saturday 9: Goodbye

Saturday 9: Goodbye (1969)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

This song was chosen because it's time to say goodbye to 2024. Thanks for participating in Saturday 9 this year.

1) In this song, Mary Hopkin asks her lover not to let her sleep too late. Did you wake up this morning on your own, did someone wake you, or were you jangled awake by an alarm clock?

A. I was awakened by my husband's alarm clock. I got up, he did not.

2) The lyrics reference "a lonely song." Can you name a song about loneliness?

A. "She's Leaving Home," from the Sergeant Pepper Lonely Hearts Club album by the Beatles.

3) "Goodbye" was written for Mary by Paul McCartney. He was the one who signed her to her first record contract and produced this and all her Apple Records, including her first big hit, "Those Were the Days." Looking back on 2024, who is someone who gave you a helping hand when you needed it?

A. Oh, my friend Teresa definitely helped me out many times.

4) This video shows Mary performing on The Ed Sullivan Show while wearing a miniskirt. Minis were very popular in 1969. Did you embrace a fashion trend in 2024?

A. I never embrace fashion trends. I wouldn't know a fashion trend if it came up to me and recited the entire 12 hours of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy to me.

5) Also in 1969, the Colts lost to the New York Jets in Super Bowl III. The game is famous because of all the hype leading up to it, including Joe Namath "guaranteeing" the underdog Jets would win. Do you have a special sports memory of 2024?

A. I enjoyed watching Caitlyn Clark play first college basketball and then in the WNBA. She was a joy to watch.

6) What's the farthest from home you traveled in 2024?

A. I doubt I went 100 miles from home. I don't recall any special trips to anywhere. We haven't been on a vacation in years.

7) What was the biggest purchase that you made in 2024?

A. We didn't make a purchase, but had a very expensive tractor repair.

8) What was your favorite book of 2024?

A. Nonfiction: Democracy Awakening, by Heather Cox Richardson. Fiction: Thornhedge, by T. Kingfisher.

9) What are you looking forward to most in 2025?

A. To be honest, not much. Other than a possibility I may actually obtain fiber internet and rid myself of DSL, there aren't many things on the horizon.

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I encourage you to visit the posts of other participants in Saturday 9 and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however. 

The Button Box

My extra present at Christmas was something old.

It was my mother's button box. Well, actually it's a fruitcake tin from the 1960s, full of buttons.

I had mentioned it on a blog post about my mother back in June, when Thursday landed on her birthday. I wrote about some of my memories of my mother for Thursday 13, and mentioned the button box, wondering what had happened to it. My mother passed away in 2000 from pancreatic cancer. Most of her things remained with my father.

My stepmother saw my blog post (I didn't know she read my blog), and she knew where the button box was. She pulled it out of the basement and cleaned it up and gave it to me for Christmas.

She was quite emotional when she gave it to me. I probably did not offer up the expected reaction - I am not one to cry, especially in front of other people, but I was certainly shocked and surprised to see it.

I imagine many women of my mother's generation had a button box. Waste not, want not and all of that. My brother and I used to make a kind of toy out of the buttons and a string, a zinger type thing that I am not describing well. It was always fun to comb through the box and see what was there.

Long ago, I probably remembered what some of the buttons came off of and thought about those garments as I sorted through the buttons. Now, I have no idea, but there are certainly a lot of buttons in there, as well as needles and a die from a game, among other things.

It was incredibly kind of my stepmother to clean up the box and give this to me as a keepsake. I really appreciate her thoughtfulness.

Thursday Thirteen - Boxing Day Edition

And so this was Christmas:

Lots of food.

Even something healthy.

All set up for guests.

Yum! She brought cookies!

My mother-in-law.

My stepmother.

My father.

The old folks gathering. I'm taking the picture.

Dad opening a present.

My tree

The fireplace with its stocking.

My brother and husband with the food.

My brother with Santa Mouse.
There's a story there, which I will
tell another day.

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Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 887th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

Merry Christmas!

May the day bring joy.

Christmas Eve

The older I get, the more nostalgic I seem to be for those Christmas Eves long ago. The ones where my parents threw a big party, and loads of people came, and my brother and I opened our presents to one another - an effort by my parents to calm us down.

So many people, and Santa Claus coming? What kid wouldn't be wound up tighter than a corkscrew in a wine bottle?

We were supposed to go to bed, but we generally stayed up as long as we could, peering around the corner, watching the grownups talk, dance, and play music. How were we to sleep with all of that noise, anyway?

On one particularly memorable Christmas Eve, (and I may have told this story before) I remember hearing shrieks from women. I peeked around the corner and the ladies were pointing toward the refrigerator.

A drunken mouse was roaming around the floor. I am not sure where the men were - playing music or standing around outside, maybe - but the mouse was there. He'd obviously been imbibing on something.

My mother very calmly and quickly slipped off her shoe. Thwack! She slammed it down on the mouse, amidst the cries of the other women. Then she got the broom and dustpan and swept it up off of the linoleum and took it outside.

She came back in like nothing had happened. I was not surprised, having seen my mother do amazing things, but the other women were either aghast or admiring.

I thought it was hilarious.

Once we finally went to sleep, and the guests left, my parents would do the Santa thing, placing our gifts under the tree. At some point in the wee hours of the morning, my brother would shake me awake.

"Santa's come! Santa's come!" he would whisper excitedly.

I would climb out of bed and follow him to the living room, where we could see our bounty spread out beneath the tree. Then we'd go back to bed until our parents called us in.

When we arrived in the room and did not look surprised, my father would look at my mother. "They got up again," he would say.

This happened nearly every year, even when we were teenagers, though by then most of our presents were wrapped, not left out. After all, we knew who Santa was.

The excitement held for a long time.

I sure miss those days.

Getting Ready

I was getting ready for company earlier today, and I was struck by a memory of my mother doing the same thing.

My mother, though, had a routine that would make mine look like child's play. She was the ultimate personal hairstylist and makeup artist for herself.

She teased her hair up until she was too ill to do that anymore. And she wore makeup almost constantly; I seldom remember seeing her without it.

My mother always looked beautiful when she went out, even if only to the grocery store. She would be totally decked out, well dressed, and dignified.

I'm not sure she owned a pair of blue jeans.

I, on the other hand, had a routine that included hair and makeup, but I have always had easy to manage haircuts - blow, maybe a bit of a curling iron, brush, and done. My makeup routine was foundation, eye shadow, mascara, a little blush, a powder to top it off - done. I could usually be dressed in 30 minutes and my wardrobe of choice was pants and a top. Occasionally, I wore a skirt.

Dresses and I did not get along. I have always had trouble with shoes, because I have trouble with my feet. I once was told at a law office that I would never get promoted because I did not wear heels.

I opted for dress flats back then.

These days, I do my hair, still, but it remains in an easy-to-handle cut. My makeup is now nonexistent because I can't find any makeup to which I am not allergic. I can be ready in 15 minutes, 10 if I push it, not counting a shower.

My mother would be appalled to see me going out to the grocery stores in blue jeans, a t-shirt, and no makeup. I wear nothing but sneakers. I own a pair of black sneakers for dress shoes, if you can believe that.

If I stop and think about it, I'm a little appalled myself, but I haven't found a way around it. I am always neat and clean, if not decked out. It's hard to find decent clothes in my size, and since I am home more often than not, I don't know that it matters too much.

Mom sure could do herself up, though. She always looked her best.

My mom & dad, mid 1990s, maybe?

Saturday 9: Happy Holidays

SATURDAY 9: HAPPY HOLIDAYS

From the archives

1. If you could ask Santa for anything at all, right now, what would it be?

A. I would ask him for better health and peace of mind. I'm not looking forward to the angst I fear will be coming in the new year.

2. Are you currently on the Naughty or Nice list? How did you get there?

A. I hope I am on the Nice list. I have not done anything mean to anyone, aside from occasionally yelling at my husband, but he deserved it. But I could be on the Naughty list because I did mess up one time this year and lost it with someone I should not have.

3. Are you traveling this Christmas? If so, are you going by car, plane or train?

A. I am not traveling.

4. Did you ship any gifts to friends and family this year? If yes, which one traveled the farthest?

A. If having something shipped from Amazon UK to my friend who lives in the UK counts, then that one. At least, it was the furthest from me.

5. Did you buy yourself a gift this year?

A. No, but I know what I am getting so I may as well have.

6. Which do you prefer: candy canes or gingerbread?

A. Gingerbread.

7. Close your eyes and tell us the first carol that comes to mind.

A. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

8. What's your favorite winter beverage?

A. Hot water. I used to like cider and hot chocolate, but I don't drink anything but water now.

9. Share a memory from last Christmas.

A. We had an exposure to Covid, but no one but the person with Covid became ill. 

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I encourage you to visit the posts of other participants in Saturday 9 and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however. 

Oh Vertigo!

On Saturday, I woke up with vertigo. It eased up after I sat up. I have had worse.

I had been having pain in my left ear and assumed an ear infection. Since it was the weekend, I couldn't call my doctor, so I tried some home remedies. It seemed to be better Monday and then Tuesday it wasn't. The vertigo was back when I woke up. Fortunately, it eased.

Wednesday, I called for an appointment with my wonderful primary care physician. I was told if I could be there in 30 minutes, the doctor could see me. I had just showered and was in the process of dressing when I made the call, so I threw on the rest of my clothes and drove as quickly as I dared to get to the office. I made it with a little time to spare.

The doctor confirmed an ear infection in my left ear. Otis media, I think they call it.

She prescribed an antibiotic and sent me off with a Merry Christmas hug.

The antibiotic is not one I have taken often and not a favorite. It makes me grouchy. It is also not kind to my stomach.

Since I am sick, I did not feel like I should do the cooking/baking I had planned to do even though I don't think I am contagious and have no fever. Instead, I coached my husband through it, and he made a couple batches of fudge for me.

He did alright, too.

I think he even enjoyed it.

We are mostly ready for Christmas. I have one more thing to wrap and then I am done. I wish I had come up with better gifts for my husband, but it is hard to buy for people when they simply go get what they want.

I have tomorrow, Sunday, and Monday to ready myself for Christmas Eve, which is usually when my family visits. I think everything will be just fine, including my ear.

 

Thursday Thirteen

Things I say that I suspect other folks, especially those who live in cities, do not, because I have a rather different sort of lifestyle:

1. There's a cow in the front yard.

2. Nice kill on your deer, dear. Now let's be sure we take meat to neighbor so-and-so (and ramble off a long list because I don't particularly like deer meat). (Yes, we fed a lot of the neighbors.)

3. I saw a coyote try to take down a deer!

4. That's a fairy circle (a round circle of mushrooms).

5. There's a bear looking in the back door.

6. The backyard is full of turkeys.

7. I saw a fox with her kit running down in the holler.

8. The creek is running dry because of the drought.

9. The racoons got into the trash again. (People in the city may have this problem sometimes. Maybe. I'm not sure.)

10. It's raining, so the Internet and the landline phone isn't working properly.

11. I am going to play my guitar until my fingers hurt, because my callouses have vanished and I need to build them back up.

12. My deadline is tomorrow morning, so I will be up past midnight writing this article.

13. I can see the Milky Way tonight because the sky is clear.

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Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while, and this is my 886th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday. Or so sayth the Blogger counter, anyway.

More Than a Feeling

Yesterday, I was visiting with the woman who has cut my hair for a very long time. Regular readers may remember she retired pre-pandemic, and I wandered around aimlessly in the wilderness of hair stylists for years trying to find someone to cut my hair. I settled on someone for about a year, but she simply had no idea what I wanted my hair to look like, even with pictures.

In desperation, I contacted my old hair stylist and asked, "What am I supposed to tell people who cut my hair as to the style I want? No one understands what I am trying to tell them."

She told me I needed a certain cut that apparently no one teaches anymore. She offered to cut my hair for me, and I agreed. She's retired but she's kept up her license.

That was just over a year ago, and yesterday, which was I think the 12th cut, she said I finally look like myself, after going for years looking like somebody else.

I wonder who I was?

I felt like me, but I knew I didn't look like I used to. It is difficult going out when you are not happy with the way you look. Add to that my unfortunate allergy to apparently every bit of makeup on the planet now, which means I mostly go out sans facial fixing, and the fact that I am overweight, and you have the perfect picture of a woman who feels more at home, alone, than someone who races all over town doing this and that.

So, I have mostly stayed home since the pandemic. I go out to the grocery store, occasionally I hit Walmart, and I see my doctors, but that's about it. We went to Belk (a southern department store) at Valley View Mall last week and it was like going into a strange world. I hadn't been to the mall in years. Literally.

I am feeling more like going out now. Even sans makeup. I've lost another 10 pounds, which is not much when you are already overweight, but my clothes fit a little better and are looser and not as restricting. I have been walking on the treadmill and trying to eat better so I have more energy. Not a lot more energy, but some.

The weather keeps me inside - I am not a winter fan. But I am feeling like maybe come spring, if I can keep the weight down, and my hair cut well, I will start venturing out more. Maybe once a week I will drive to the mall and walk it instead of the treadmill, just to see what is out there.

And to feel more like I belong in this world, because regardless of what others say and think, I do.