We had snow last night that amounted to 3-4 inches. This morning John got up early, went out, ran the snow blower and cleared the driveway. He also cleaned off all three cars- his, mine, and Kelly's. Kelly finished cleaning off her windows, jumped in her car and left for work. John finished cleaning off his car, came in to grab his backpack, and he left for work. I had breakfast, put on my boots and went out to shovel off the back deck, the back stairs, the back walkway, and the walkway to the driveway. I also shoveled the piles of snow that were like Jersey barriers marking where John & Kelly's cars had been parked. There were the same mounds of snow around my car. I cleaned all that up with the shovel, then cleaned off my windows the rest of the way.
I ran downtown for 10AM for a meeting and a second breakfast (the first one was small and quick before shoveling). I got home about 11:30AM. I finished cleaning up the moguls that marked where my car had been parked earlier, did some scraping here and there, but was pleased to find that the sunshine had dried the sidewalk and deck so it was all perfectly clear without a trace of snow or ice. Yes!
I went off to work pleased as anything that I had cleaned what was left up and we'd all be able to safely get into the house when we got home from work this evening.
Right. This is New England.
Around 5PM what they term a snow squall and I call a mini blizzard hit. Of course this was the evening I had to go out of my way by several miles to drive a co-worker who doesn't drive home. I hate driving in snow. I hate driving in driving snow and wind even more.
I also can't see that well in the dark due to headlight and road glare when the roads are wet. The roads were wet and slippery! Oh, joy. But, we chatted and kept it light while I tensely gripped the wheel and kept up with traffic while outside the windows the snow stuck to the glass and blew in endless sheets across the windshield. The wagger (the rear window windshield wiper) usually squeaks if I forget to turn it off after clearing the window- nary a chirp out of it as it merrily cleaned wet snow off the glass. Conditions were nasty to put it nicely. We also took the opportunity to employ the front seat warmers. Nice little luxury I seldom use, but after shoveling this morning I had a few twinges in my back that were relieved by the warmth. Nice. It was like cruising through rush hour traffic downtown in my own private little spa.
I delivered her safely to her door, then had to tackle the turnabout in her backyard where other tenants vehicles were parked and tree branches were down. It was sort of like an urban jungle, with snow.
The drive home was treacherous with near whiteout conditions due to strong gusting winds blowing the snow across the roads. I skidded on Franklin Street when the car ahead of me abruptly applied his brakes. The driver in front of him had made a sudden decision to veer into the package store (no doubt for a warming libation) without benefit of employing directional signals. You have to love those people who think they are the only ones on the road, or perhaps that you know through some process of precognition that they're going to be turning NOW!
When I reached East Mountain Road after venturing through the windswept white landscape formerly known as Union Street and traveling the sidewinder curves up Papermill Road I suddenly realized I'd left the mini blizzard behind. There was a hint of sparkly light snow in the air and a touch of wind. I made it home without any further difficulty- huzzah! John was just finishing up clearing the new snowfall and we trudged in through the garage skipping the once again snow covered back walkway, deck stairs, and deck to the kitchen door.
Maybe tomorrow the wind will have blown all this new snow away...one can only hope.
Wednesday, January 30, 2019
Sunday, January 27, 2019
New Novel White Bishop Among the Pawns- Available Now for Kindle ereader
My new novel, White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third book in the Black King-White Queen series that began with the shortlisted (OZMA Award 2016) Black King Takes White Queen, and continued in Black Knight, White Rook, is now available as of 10PM tonight as a Kindle ebook on Amazon for $2.99 (US) The print book will be available perhaps as soon as February 1st- it depends on how fast the proof copy arrives for review. (Kelly's proof arrived in about 2 days for her new novel and she could approve it that same day.)
In this third book which basically traces white witch and druidess Ivy Greenaway's coming of age and maturing into her role as the chosen queen of powerful black arts warlock and King (after the sudden death of his father) Romney Sharpe, the still young couple (married just over five years and the parents of soon to be five year old Prince Ezra and 14-month old Princess Amaris) find themselves suddenly under attack repeatedly by a local faction of dark arts practitioners lead by the wicked Clude Rankin and Olivur Blood who disagree with the King and Queen's desire to unite all practitioners in a world fostering tolerance so that they may all live in peace. They want the return of the old ways and therefore have ruthlessly set about eliminating the royal family, their relatives, friends, and followers to gain control and more or less enslave all white arts practitioners. Romney and Ivy have learned through their ordeals that strength lies in unity. Although their hearts are being torn apart by the acts being committed against them, they understand they must not be divided, that they must hold their family, friends, and followers together or their fate will end as direly as that of the original Romney Sharpe and Ivy Greenaway centuries ago.
In this third book which basically traces white witch and druidess Ivy Greenaway's coming of age and maturing into her role as the chosen queen of powerful black arts warlock and King (after the sudden death of his father) Romney Sharpe, the still young couple (married just over five years and the parents of soon to be five year old Prince Ezra and 14-month old Princess Amaris) find themselves suddenly under attack repeatedly by a local faction of dark arts practitioners lead by the wicked Clude Rankin and Olivur Blood who disagree with the King and Queen's desire to unite all practitioners in a world fostering tolerance so that they may all live in peace. They want the return of the old ways and therefore have ruthlessly set about eliminating the royal family, their relatives, friends, and followers to gain control and more or less enslave all white arts practitioners. Romney and Ivy have learned through their ordeals that strength lies in unity. Although their hearts are being torn apart by the acts being committed against them, they understand they must not be divided, that they must hold their family, friends, and followers together or their fate will end as direly as that of the original Romney Sharpe and Ivy Greenaway centuries ago.
Friday, January 25, 2019
Writer's Wall Torn Down
Forget writer's block...I have been suffering Writer's Wall- a total blockade of inspiration. This occasionally happens, so while suffering through the sitting here staring at the blank wall in my brain, I channeled energy into art and created over 50 pen and ink drawings to amuse myself and, hopefully, delight others who view them. I've given something like a hundred (or more) of them away and sold a few.
I have also been having a rough time with tendinitis seemingly everywhere but primarily in my left thumb and left foot across the top of it. And then I was struck by a severe bout of gastritis and spent several days being little more than a ragdoll in a chair, unable to eat or drink much. Finally, both issues seem to be abating and I feel more like my usual old self.
This morning at breakfast I began writing a new ghost story for Valentine's Day. This one began with the phrase, For the Love of Pete. I don't know why that popped into my head at breakfast, but I had all but the last three lines written by the time I glanced at the clock and realized I'd be late for work if I didn't stop writing NOW. The last three lines were sort of in my head as I brushed my teeth and dashed out the door, but they had t wait until after dinner tonight to get written down.
While sick, I proofread Kelly's 2018 NaNo novel The Hawkists while she put the finishing touches on her 2017 NaNo Novel Empathic Touch and got it out into the marketplace first as a Kindle book and most recently as an Amazon print on demand book. When finished with her book, I finally tackled White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third and possibly final novel in the Black King White Queen series that began with Black King Takes White Queen, then continued in Black Knight, White Rook.
I guess I found there was plenty to do when stuck staring at the wall!
I have also been having a rough time with tendinitis seemingly everywhere but primarily in my left thumb and left foot across the top of it. And then I was struck by a severe bout of gastritis and spent several days being little more than a ragdoll in a chair, unable to eat or drink much. Finally, both issues seem to be abating and I feel more like my usual old self.
This morning at breakfast I began writing a new ghost story for Valentine's Day. This one began with the phrase, For the Love of Pete. I don't know why that popped into my head at breakfast, but I had all but the last three lines written by the time I glanced at the clock and realized I'd be late for work if I didn't stop writing NOW. The last three lines were sort of in my head as I brushed my teeth and dashed out the door, but they had t wait until after dinner tonight to get written down.
While sick, I proofread Kelly's 2018 NaNo novel The Hawkists while she put the finishing touches on her 2017 NaNo Novel Empathic Touch and got it out into the marketplace first as a Kindle book and most recently as an Amazon print on demand book. When finished with her book, I finally tackled White Bishop Among the Pawns, the third and possibly final novel in the Black King White Queen series that began with Black King Takes White Queen, then continued in Black Knight, White Rook.
I guess I found there was plenty to do when stuck staring at the wall!
Saturday, January 19, 2019
An Evening With Edgar Allan Poe
Today, January 19th, 2019 was the 210th birthday of American author Edgar Allan Poe. In honor of his birthday, Russell Atwood of Blue Umbrella Books transformed himself into Poe and held a day long event at Blue Umbrella Books in downtown Westfield that featured DJ Sean Martin playing gothic music and audio readings of Poe's work, Bob Plasse reading Poe's The Telltale Heart, glass artist Hugh Naggar creating special glass miniatures- I saw a raven perched in a tree. The birthday party concluded with a special edition of Ghost Stories Live! with cast members reading a few of Poe's poems and short stories. I read Hop-Frog, a tale of revenge. Jessica Martin read the haunting Annabel Lee. Poe (Russell) read A Dream Within A Dream and The Conquerer Worm.
It was somewhat surreal seeing Russell looking so uncannily like Poe. I thoroughly enjoyed my two visits to the Blue Umbrella book shop today. Several WhipCity Wordsmith members attended so it was nice to see my authors/writers group members supporting events at the bookshop.
It made me want to read more of Poe's work. He's best known for his compelling horror stories, and of course the iconic The Raven poem. However, there was also a humorous side to Poe, a certain satirical cheekiness. He could be acerbic, cutting, and even mean-spirited in his reviews of other authors work, or with critics of his own work...but sometimes, reading his satirical pieces, one gets the feeling Poe walked on the razor's edge and sometimes got himself nicked for his daring to do so.
He had a morbid bent of mind, a psychological darkness shadowing him that was revealed in his darker tales. They were sensational in their era. They remain curiously disturbing over a century and half later.
I enjoyed the event, feeling as if I might have been rubbing elbows with the spirit of Mr. Poe this evening.
It was somewhat surreal seeing Russell looking so uncannily like Poe. I thoroughly enjoyed my two visits to the Blue Umbrella book shop today. Several WhipCity Wordsmith members attended so it was nice to see my authors/writers group members supporting events at the bookshop.
It made me want to read more of Poe's work. He's best known for his compelling horror stories, and of course the iconic The Raven poem. However, there was also a humorous side to Poe, a certain satirical cheekiness. He could be acerbic, cutting, and even mean-spirited in his reviews of other authors work, or with critics of his own work...but sometimes, reading his satirical pieces, one gets the feeling Poe walked on the razor's edge and sometimes got himself nicked for his daring to do so.
He had a morbid bent of mind, a psychological darkness shadowing him that was revealed in his darker tales. They were sensational in their era. They remain curiously disturbing over a century and half later.
I enjoyed the event, feeling as if I might have been rubbing elbows with the spirit of Mr. Poe this evening.
Thursday, January 17, 2019
When Did Snow Become a Reason to Panic in New England?
We're going to get 3 inches of snow tomorrow, apparently. New England's gotten tons of snow throughout the centuries. We've been buried in snow. When I was growing up in the 60's it snowed, maybe more than it snows nowadays. I remember building snow forts by scooping and shoveling out the snow mounded high at the end of the driveway from the snow plows passing by and Dad shoveling snow from the driveway. We had two or three separate entrances and room for two of us at least to huddle inside the fort at a time with a stash of snowballs besides. My parents never went into a blind hoarding panic when a snowstorm was announced on TV. We didn't have worse-case scenario adrenalin junkie meteorologists feeding into a diabolically concocted doomsday tale of devastation and starvation, power outages and the need for special ops survivalist skills when I was growing up. If the power went out, we wrapped ourselves in flannel blankets and carried on by the light of an oil lamp belonging to my great-grandmother. We sat around the kitchen table and played a homemade version of Parcheesi and went to bed early when we got bored. We had tuna fish sandwiches because there was always bread and cans of tuna in the house with three kids. The power usually came back on in a couple of hours. We never starved, frozen to death, or went out of our minds because we lost contact with our circle of friends and relatives. Our phones usually still worked. We didn't have Comcast. We had Bell. We weren't glued to our cellphones with OCD fervidity. We didn't even have cellphones. We played cards and talked to one another, or Mom read to us by flashlight in the living room. We didn't go out of our minds or have anxiety attacks because we might have missed another ridiculous selfie posted by a famous-in-his-or-her-own-mind soul-sucking attention vampire. I don't think I even bothered to call any friends to see what they were doing during the power outage and storm. School only got cancelled if the snow was higher than the janitor's snow blower chute. We didn't have two hour delays. The buses came, Mom or Dad drove us in the car with snow tires on it or even chains if your family couldn't afford snow tires, or we walked to school in the snow because we had boots and were intelligent enough not to wear shorts, tank tops, and Crocs in the winter. We wore long pants, corduroys, sweaters, turtlenecks, and long johns under everything and the cold didn't bother us. We threw on a wool coat, a down filled coat, not a hoodie or flannel shirt. We were winter savvy even at a young age. End of story.
It is so absurd how people panic at the word snow these days. The town where I live has never been buried in snow and inaccessible. The plows come out, the roads get cleared, sanded and salted as needed and live continues on. So, what's with this insane rushing to the store like you're never going to eat again after we get two or three inches of snow? How many batteries do you really need? What have you actually got in your house that runs on batteries that your need to have more on hand is that dire? We have flashlights that still have last year's batteries in them, a couple clocks that run on AA cells, the smoke detectors got new 9vs in October. We don't have anything that burns in our house because we're allergic to wood smoke, so we're not going to be starting any fires. Candles aren't part of our lives either since the majority of them are scented, another source of allergy woes. The battery powered lantern still works. It's the only light we really need. We're not throwing a party during a power outage.
So, where did this insanity originate? It certainly didn't exist when I was growing up, when you had a radio and a TV set that got three channels fairly clearly and several fuzzier channels from CT and NY. No one I know ever starved to death in a little snowstorm. If you knew your elderly neighbor on a budget might not have food in the house you stomped through the snow and brought them something, then grabbed the snow shovel and cleared their driveway and walkways before going home to get your sled out and play for several hours until your wool mittens sagged on your now red cold hands, the wool covered in little ice balls that weighted the mitten down making them dangerous face lacerating weapons when swung at your pesky kid brother!
We are a generation of alarmists spoon-fed dramatic images on TV and the internet of out-of-context storms. We glut ourselves on this stuff which is not reality, it's cut and paste drama that could be several years old, the worst images gleaned from acres of footage shot. I don't even get the weather forecasters standing out in a blizzard saying "The snow's really coming down out here! The roads are slippery!" Well, DUH! Go inside, you idiot! All of us can see out of our windows, and we're a heck of a lot smarter than you, standing out there telling us stuff that is perfectly obvious to even the most clueless of people. It's not like we all haven't lived through a snowstorm before. You're not telling us anything new, but you're finding the worst of the storm and tweaking people's anxiety levels to higher notches...for what? They've already been out fighting the crowds in the grocery stores to get their loaf of bread, jug of milk, toilet paper, and batteries. The snow plows are going by their homes while you're standing out there in a blizzard yammering inanely about the obvious. Go home. Go back into the studio and stop being so stupid.
I used to like winter. I used to look forward to snowstorms- watching the flakes tumble down. Now I dread snowstorms because of the inanity involved...this bizarre drive to prepare for what usually turns out to be a mere dusting of snow. All that running around, all that anxiety and stress, fueled by the media and over enthusiastic meteorologists (who get paid for being wrong about their ominous predictions), all that fuss for something New Englanders have lived with for generations. How did we become so afraid of snow when we have massive snowplows, savvy power company technicians that restore power within the hour or shortly thereafter? We have gas grills we can cook gourmet meals on. You can put perishables in a snow bank or a cooler packed with snow to preserve freshness. We have the means and the know hot to survive for up to eight hours or until the roads are clear, less than twelve hours normally. Walmart is open 24-hours. What's the big deal about a snowstorm in this day and age?
If we get some snow tonight, well, I'll be at work tomorrow because we seldom close. It'll be a nice drive in because with a couple of inches of snow and the roads plowed, sanded and salted, and school either cancelled or delayed by two hours, and many people opting to work from home there won't be many people on the roads. But, in my mind, I'll be wishing I could stay home so I can go outside to make snow angels in the back yard and then come inside for some hot chocolate...snowstorms were so much simpler when I was young.
It is so absurd how people panic at the word snow these days. The town where I live has never been buried in snow and inaccessible. The plows come out, the roads get cleared, sanded and salted as needed and live continues on. So, what's with this insane rushing to the store like you're never going to eat again after we get two or three inches of snow? How many batteries do you really need? What have you actually got in your house that runs on batteries that your need to have more on hand is that dire? We have flashlights that still have last year's batteries in them, a couple clocks that run on AA cells, the smoke detectors got new 9vs in October. We don't have anything that burns in our house because we're allergic to wood smoke, so we're not going to be starting any fires. Candles aren't part of our lives either since the majority of them are scented, another source of allergy woes. The battery powered lantern still works. It's the only light we really need. We're not throwing a party during a power outage.
So, where did this insanity originate? It certainly didn't exist when I was growing up, when you had a radio and a TV set that got three channels fairly clearly and several fuzzier channels from CT and NY. No one I know ever starved to death in a little snowstorm. If you knew your elderly neighbor on a budget might not have food in the house you stomped through the snow and brought them something, then grabbed the snow shovel and cleared their driveway and walkways before going home to get your sled out and play for several hours until your wool mittens sagged on your now red cold hands, the wool covered in little ice balls that weighted the mitten down making them dangerous face lacerating weapons when swung at your pesky kid brother!
We are a generation of alarmists spoon-fed dramatic images on TV and the internet of out-of-context storms. We glut ourselves on this stuff which is not reality, it's cut and paste drama that could be several years old, the worst images gleaned from acres of footage shot. I don't even get the weather forecasters standing out in a blizzard saying "The snow's really coming down out here! The roads are slippery!" Well, DUH! Go inside, you idiot! All of us can see out of our windows, and we're a heck of a lot smarter than you, standing out there telling us stuff that is perfectly obvious to even the most clueless of people. It's not like we all haven't lived through a snowstorm before. You're not telling us anything new, but you're finding the worst of the storm and tweaking people's anxiety levels to higher notches...for what? They've already been out fighting the crowds in the grocery stores to get their loaf of bread, jug of milk, toilet paper, and batteries. The snow plows are going by their homes while you're standing out there in a blizzard yammering inanely about the obvious. Go home. Go back into the studio and stop being so stupid.
I used to like winter. I used to look forward to snowstorms- watching the flakes tumble down. Now I dread snowstorms because of the inanity involved...this bizarre drive to prepare for what usually turns out to be a mere dusting of snow. All that running around, all that anxiety and stress, fueled by the media and over enthusiastic meteorologists (who get paid for being wrong about their ominous predictions), all that fuss for something New Englanders have lived with for generations. How did we become so afraid of snow when we have massive snowplows, savvy power company technicians that restore power within the hour or shortly thereafter? We have gas grills we can cook gourmet meals on. You can put perishables in a snow bank or a cooler packed with snow to preserve freshness. We have the means and the know hot to survive for up to eight hours or until the roads are clear, less than twelve hours normally. Walmart is open 24-hours. What's the big deal about a snowstorm in this day and age?
If we get some snow tonight, well, I'll be at work tomorrow because we seldom close. It'll be a nice drive in because with a couple of inches of snow and the roads plowed, sanded and salted, and school either cancelled or delayed by two hours, and many people opting to work from home there won't be many people on the roads. But, in my mind, I'll be wishing I could stay home so I can go outside to make snow angels in the back yard and then come inside for some hot chocolate...snowstorms were so much simpler when I was young.
Thursday, January 10, 2019
There's Never A break from Being a Mom
This past Sunday I slipped and fell on black ice while going out for breakfast with Kelly. At 60, falls certainly begin to take a toll on aging bodies. I landed on my left knee then left hip. Having RA as well as osteoarthritis, it's not so easy for me to get up off the cold wet ground as it used to be, but I got back onto my feet. Cold and wet from hip to ankle, I limped into Dunkin Donuts because a 27-year old's need to eat takes precedence over Mom's scraped up knee, sore hips, nd uncomfortably cold and wet clothing. (she did 'suggest' we swing by the house on the way to Walmart after breakfast so I could get dry pants.
Monday night, after work and dinner, I drove Kelly to the grocery store to shop of soft, squishy foodstuffs because she was having wisdom teeth extractions on the following morning. I dropped an additional $40 after Sunday's grocery shopping. Didn't have time to sit with the heating pad-I don't stand a chance of getting a place on the loveseat between cats, stuffed animals and daughter anyway.
This past Tuesday and Wednesday I took two vacation days because she needed a driver to take her to the dentist for wisdom teeth removal under general anesthesia. The dentist's office was downright cold with random weird people one would have encountered in the general assembly room of an asylum back in the day. I don't know why they migrate to dentist's offices these days. One of life's many mysteries. I just wanted to be left alone to read my book but a woman reading a book in the waiting room of this particular dentist's office appeared t be a novelty. One man in particular, who talked and chuckled to himself incessantly while completing a form of some sort, repeatedly tried to engage me in his peculiar little world, but sorry, my sphere of leave me aloneness does not intersect at any point with his sphere of giggly, attention-seeking weirdness.
Anyway, Mom was there to drive the blood-drooling patient home. Luckily I had grabbed a big blue plastic bowl having had experience with major tooth extractions during the course of my life. I got her safely home, parked her at the kitchen table so I could monitor her, changed out the gory gauze twice...and cooked her lukewarm chicken and stars soup for lunch because she was starving, not having eaten for over 12 hours.
While she rested, I hauled laundry downstairs with my knee, hip, and now low back pain and muscle spasms in my back and right hip due to the fall on Sunday. I made her a chocolate milkshake which she ate with a narrow spoon. I washed dishes, found ways to amuse and distract her from her misery, and watched over her when she dozed off.
Tuesday night, her father and I went out in a cold, pouring rain to pick up her antibiotic medication and ibuprofen (which she refuses to take, preferring Tylenol Extra Strength). I made her chocolate chip muffins for breakfast on Wednesday. At bedtime I had to find an extra pillow case and a spare bedsheet in case she bled and/or drooled while sleeping.
I hauled a trash bag full of biohazardous waste down the basement stairs to the trash can in the garage and cleaned up after her, limping around like Quasimoto, just wanting to sit down with a heating pad and rest, but a Mom's work is never done.
Wednesday morning I left her in bed while I got up early and went to a doctor's appointment. I came home to discover it had taken her an hour to eat three chocolate chip muffins because she had to break them into tiny pieces and swallow the pieces whole since she couldn't chew due to swelling and pain.
Is it cruel of me to remark that my daughter with her baby face looked astonishingly like SpongeBob SquarePants yesterday morning? I kid you not, the poor kid's face from nose to jaw looked like a cube!
But, we still went to Hobby Lobby for some colored inks we wanted for our drawing projects. She was miserable. The plan to visit Barnes & Noble afterwards was scrapped as wandering through this one store and waiting in a line because of returns, zapped her of all energy. So, bad home we went where more TLC was administered, lunch was made and the kitchen cleaned up afterwards. I had another errand to run and could hardly get down the deck stairs my back hurt so much, but I needed to get some things done. She stayed home and rested. I was back home in time to make her her afternoon chocolate milkshake. And I cleaned that up, too.
This morning I got up, made sure she had everything she'd need, and went to work, sore back, muscle spasms, staggering limp and all. Came home, started the laundry (I hate stairs right now!), shredded some leftover chicken for her in the food processor. She'd managed to make herself some scrambled eggs and shredded ham today, and a milkshake. We shredded some stew beef, mixed it with gravy and she had a "real dinner for the first time since Monday night, managing to eat soft green beans and thin egg noodles with her pasty beef pate.
And then she said we needed to go to the store to buy more muffin mix so she'd have something to eat for breakfast tomorrow...so after working all day, starting the laundry, helping with dinner, I drove her to Walmart for the muffin mix and a small hot/cold compress for her swollen face. Then came home and made her chocolate chip muffins and blueberry muffins for my husband whose nose would be out of joint if he didn't get a breakfast treat, too. I washed the dishes, folded laundry, filed her mail in the file cabinet, and put her to bed at quarter past nine.
I now have to wash up the muffin tins, empty the dishwasher, haul the trash downstairs to the garage...and then I can fall into bed...al with nary a heating pad touching this sore back, or that sore hip.
I wish my mother was still alive, but since she's not, I just want to say, "Thank you, Mom. Just thank you for everything you ever did for me and the sacrifices you made for my sake. I truly can appreciate what I never realized you were doing when I was her age." Now I'm the Mom. I hope one day she realizes I set my pain aside to care for her because she had pain. That's what Mom's do.
There's never a break from being a Mom...once you bring that little person into the world, they own you.
But, I would never say I regret being a Mom. It has it's moments, good and bad. You just ave to suck it up and keep going because it's your responsibility, not anyone else's.
Love you, Boo...feel better soon. I'll try to do the same..
Monday night, after work and dinner, I drove Kelly to the grocery store to shop of soft, squishy foodstuffs because she was having wisdom teeth extractions on the following morning. I dropped an additional $40 after Sunday's grocery shopping. Didn't have time to sit with the heating pad-I don't stand a chance of getting a place on the loveseat between cats, stuffed animals and daughter anyway.
This past Tuesday and Wednesday I took two vacation days because she needed a driver to take her to the dentist for wisdom teeth removal under general anesthesia. The dentist's office was downright cold with random weird people one would have encountered in the general assembly room of an asylum back in the day. I don't know why they migrate to dentist's offices these days. One of life's many mysteries. I just wanted to be left alone to read my book but a woman reading a book in the waiting room of this particular dentist's office appeared t be a novelty. One man in particular, who talked and chuckled to himself incessantly while completing a form of some sort, repeatedly tried to engage me in his peculiar little world, but sorry, my sphere of leave me aloneness does not intersect at any point with his sphere of giggly, attention-seeking weirdness.
Anyway, Mom was there to drive the blood-drooling patient home. Luckily I had grabbed a big blue plastic bowl having had experience with major tooth extractions during the course of my life. I got her safely home, parked her at the kitchen table so I could monitor her, changed out the gory gauze twice...and cooked her lukewarm chicken and stars soup for lunch because she was starving, not having eaten for over 12 hours.
While she rested, I hauled laundry downstairs with my knee, hip, and now low back pain and muscle spasms in my back and right hip due to the fall on Sunday. I made her a chocolate milkshake which she ate with a narrow spoon. I washed dishes, found ways to amuse and distract her from her misery, and watched over her when she dozed off.
Tuesday night, her father and I went out in a cold, pouring rain to pick up her antibiotic medication and ibuprofen (which she refuses to take, preferring Tylenol Extra Strength). I made her chocolate chip muffins for breakfast on Wednesday. At bedtime I had to find an extra pillow case and a spare bedsheet in case she bled and/or drooled while sleeping.
I hauled a trash bag full of biohazardous waste down the basement stairs to the trash can in the garage and cleaned up after her, limping around like Quasimoto, just wanting to sit down with a heating pad and rest, but a Mom's work is never done.
Wednesday morning I left her in bed while I got up early and went to a doctor's appointment. I came home to discover it had taken her an hour to eat three chocolate chip muffins because she had to break them into tiny pieces and swallow the pieces whole since she couldn't chew due to swelling and pain.
Is it cruel of me to remark that my daughter with her baby face looked astonishingly like SpongeBob SquarePants yesterday morning? I kid you not, the poor kid's face from nose to jaw looked like a cube!
But, we still went to Hobby Lobby for some colored inks we wanted for our drawing projects. She was miserable. The plan to visit Barnes & Noble afterwards was scrapped as wandering through this one store and waiting in a line because of returns, zapped her of all energy. So, bad home we went where more TLC was administered, lunch was made and the kitchen cleaned up afterwards. I had another errand to run and could hardly get down the deck stairs my back hurt so much, but I needed to get some things done. She stayed home and rested. I was back home in time to make her her afternoon chocolate milkshake. And I cleaned that up, too.
This morning I got up, made sure she had everything she'd need, and went to work, sore back, muscle spasms, staggering limp and all. Came home, started the laundry (I hate stairs right now!), shredded some leftover chicken for her in the food processor. She'd managed to make herself some scrambled eggs and shredded ham today, and a milkshake. We shredded some stew beef, mixed it with gravy and she had a "real dinner for the first time since Monday night, managing to eat soft green beans and thin egg noodles with her pasty beef pate.
And then she said we needed to go to the store to buy more muffin mix so she'd have something to eat for breakfast tomorrow...so after working all day, starting the laundry, helping with dinner, I drove her to Walmart for the muffin mix and a small hot/cold compress for her swollen face. Then came home and made her chocolate chip muffins and blueberry muffins for my husband whose nose would be out of joint if he didn't get a breakfast treat, too. I washed the dishes, folded laundry, filed her mail in the file cabinet, and put her to bed at quarter past nine.
I now have to wash up the muffin tins, empty the dishwasher, haul the trash downstairs to the garage...and then I can fall into bed...al with nary a heating pad touching this sore back, or that sore hip.
I wish my mother was still alive, but since she's not, I just want to say, "Thank you, Mom. Just thank you for everything you ever did for me and the sacrifices you made for my sake. I truly can appreciate what I never realized you were doing when I was her age." Now I'm the Mom. I hope one day she realizes I set my pain aside to care for her because she had pain. That's what Mom's do.
There's never a break from being a Mom...once you bring that little person into the world, they own you.
But, I would never say I regret being a Mom. It has it's moments, good and bad. You just ave to suck it up and keep going because it's your responsibility, not anyone else's.
Love you, Boo...feel better soon. I'll try to do the same..
Sunday, January 6, 2019
On A Strange Note
The weather here has been blustery and rainy. Today we've had sun and clouds and some breezes. Yesterday's rain froze in places so this morning, with temperatures above freezing there was the dreaded thin layer of black ice under melted ice. When going to get into my car this morning to go to breakfast with Kelly, the new plastic -like Nike soles of my sneakers hit black ice and down I went, cracking the protective cover over my new phone and soaking my jeans. Lovely.
Changed, went to breakfast, then hit WalMart where they had two (yes, that is correct, 2, T-W-O) registers open plus the self-checkout, but we had a lot of big items so had to stand in line and wait and wait. Overheard a cashier who opened a third register tell customers they could only accept credit and checks because the store had no cash, their armored truck was going to be late delivering money to the store. I was able to pay in cash without a problem. Glad to get out of that madhouse.
Jon's been stressed at work and hasn't been in a god mood, so I was reluctant to tell him my phone was screwed up and possibly broken due to the fall this morning. Didn't want to spread that sticky icing on the crapcake of his life at the moment, but finally told him at lunch. It's just the screen protector not the face of the phone that's cracked. Yeah. He was able to remove the battery and reinsert it which restarted the phone which resolved the unlocking it and it going to a black screen, and being unable to shut down the phone. That was a relief since the phone is only about two months old.
I am at home resting a sore knee, a sore hip, pulled muscles in my lower back, a sore elbow, and a sore hand (all on the sinister side-left side)...all due to the fall this morning. Kelly and John went to her house to bring move things over and do some more work. She sent me a photo of an odd note she found on her front lawn on lined notebook paper in small, open, legible, cursive writing. It looks like the outline of a short story...and reads exactly like this:
Changed, went to breakfast, then hit WalMart where they had two (yes, that is correct, 2, T-W-O) registers open plus the self-checkout, but we had a lot of big items so had to stand in line and wait and wait. Overheard a cashier who opened a third register tell customers they could only accept credit and checks because the store had no cash, their armored truck was going to be late delivering money to the store. I was able to pay in cash without a problem. Glad to get out of that madhouse.
Jon's been stressed at work and hasn't been in a god mood, so I was reluctant to tell him my phone was screwed up and possibly broken due to the fall this morning. Didn't want to spread that sticky icing on the crapcake of his life at the moment, but finally told him at lunch. It's just the screen protector not the face of the phone that's cracked. Yeah. He was able to remove the battery and reinsert it which restarted the phone which resolved the unlocking it and it going to a black screen, and being unable to shut down the phone. That was a relief since the phone is only about two months old.
I am at home resting a sore knee, a sore hip, pulled muscles in my lower back, a sore elbow, and a sore hand (all on the sinister side-left side)...all due to the fall this morning. Kelly and John went to her house to bring move things over and do some more work. She sent me a photo of an odd note she found on her front lawn on lined notebook paper in small, open, legible, cursive writing. It looks like the outline of a short story...and reads exactly like this:
Elwood & Mayben
Outline
1. Elwood AA sees Mayben on street and falls in love
2.Elwood in interview, but mind is on girl.
-Nails interview
-Celeb
It's just strange how an author goes to her house and finds someone else's outline note on her front lawn.
It leaves me wondering- does Elwood win the girl or is she just a plot ploy that inspires him during his interview allowing him to ace it? What sort of an interview is it? What kind of a celeb does he become?
Just wondering.
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