A more dignified image, but not more fun

I was inspired to change my profile somewhat by a fellow blogger's changes in her blog. But I found that I look too dignified and anyone who knows me, would never call me that. Besides, I look so old! Who is that silver-haired stranger?

I plan to change my picture back whenever I get time, but gathering information together for the "TL" (tax lady) is a chore, with no one helping me to get everything together. Thank goodness I have Quicken or I'd never get my taxes done.

Mary and Kevin will be back tomorrow, thank goodness. I have really been in a funk since they left. For seven people living here, I might as well be on a desert island. When Joe is off work, I never lay eyes on either one of them. Everyone is working except Chris who has the Hannah Montana show memorized word for word in case she ever has a test to become an understudy. I'm pretty much on my own every day and most nights.

I know I shouldn't complain though, especially with Spring coming. I can hardly wait. It's my favorite time of year with days getting lighter and vacation to FL coming up. When taxes are done I'll feel a lot better. For some reason, I really dislike giving so much money to the government, but on the other hand I have enough to pay my taxes and still keep my home.

Now, where did I put that original picture?

Travailin' to Bucyrus

Did I just say "Travailin?" What a slip of the tongue, but too true. February 17, C and I arrived at the airport at 2:10 for a flight to Bucyrus which was departing at 3:35. Plenty of time, I assumed, even going through security and checking our bags would give us an hour and 20 minutes.

I remove my cape, shoes, jacket, cell phone and blue tooth and deposit them in the gray tray. I reach for my carry-on and add that to the tray. I look back to see how C is faring, only to see her standing there, apparently fascinated with the shedding of all the "stuff" I have. "Chris take off your shoes, your purse, your jacket and sweater and put them in the bin", I growled. Yes, I growled at her.

She tried slipping off her coat while wearing her purse, but finally figured that out, removed her purse from over her shoulder, and began working on getting shoes, sweater, jacket, and her wallet ready and stood there and held them as if someone was going to steal them. "Put them in the bin", I told her as she gazed around. By this time, there are three people ahead of her.

I was being wheeled through security to be patted down and finally see Chris ready to go through security. "May I look in your bag?" the security guy asked. "I guess so", Chris meekly responded. He opened the bag and pulled out a 12 oz. bottle of shampoo. "What's this?. he asked. "My shampoo", she replied. "You can't carry a bottle that size on board". "It's for my scalp, a special shampoo", said Chris tearfully. "Well, I have to test it" and he proceeded to pour some out and take it over to be be scanned.

Now it's 2:40. I am sitting waiting, no shoes on, with all my belongings in a bin and finally hear him say, "Okay, you can go now". Chris picks up her suitcase and everything promptly falls out, as Mr. Security didn't zip her bag closed and Chris didn't check. Arggh! Some kind people helped her repack her carry-on and finally we get all our belongings in one spot. I get my shoes on, grab my cape, put on my jacket, retrieve my cell phone and blue tooth and Chris has on one shoe. By the time she is ready and has tied my shoes, it is 2:55. "Hurry, Chris we have to check in", I tell her. "But I haven't eaten all day", she whined. I ignore her and keep going to the check-in desk. We have our boarding passes, but need a pre-boarding pass and must get my wheelchair checked in. I also need to use a bathroom by this time.

Of course it's the last gate we are going to. Chris gets me down to the gate to preboard, but has spied a bagel place on the way to the gate. "Chris, we don't have time", I say. It's only 3:10 and I'll run", she says. She leaves her carry-on, my cane, my carry-on and cape and takes off . . . and now people are disembarking and the Flight Attendant is telling people to start lining up . . . and no Chris!

Now the first person is pre-boarding, and I look at all our belongings and think "There is no way I can do this!" Ah, there's Chris coming. Oh, wait she stopped, despite my beckoning her to run. And what's that she's eating? A blueberry muffin? "Chris", I yell in exasparation, "Put that away until we get on the plane".

Stuffing the muffin into my carry-on, she finally manages to get our stuff, just in time for us to pre-board. It took her 10 minutes to get us buckled in at which time they were already taking off. My heart is finally returning to normal and then Chris says, "Can I have my muffin now"? I fish my bag out with my feet, get it open and, big mistake, hand her the muffin. It took her 45 minutes to pick it apart, spilling crumbs every time she picked at it. So much more happened, but the worst for me was when I turned on my Kindle to read my new downloaded book, it said it needed to be charged. I read Sky Miles the rest of the trip and tried to pretend I didn't know the woman sitting next to me. I hope Mary and Kevin have a great flight to Hawaii!

Too cold to go out, too lazy to do taxes

Ever have one of those days when useless bits of information swim to the surface of your brain and refuse to dislodge? It was too cold to go out and I was too strung out to do my taxes, so I began to clean up emails (1074 of them) and noticed how much useless flotsam I was convinced I needed. For instance, the Julian calendar date for my birthday (July 29, 1930) is 2426186.5. Why would anyone in their right mind think this was worth saving?

Or this tidbit: you know when you try to pull some aluminum foil or saran wrap out of the box and the roll pops out -- On the end of the box it says, “Press here to lock end”.
Right there on the end of the box is a tab to lock the roll in place.
How long has this little locking tab been there? Now I ask you, how often am I even going to pull some aluminum foil out of a box? And more importantly, who cares?

I have so many hints, tips and little known cures saved for my children on my computer that they will know I was declining rapidly the last 1074 emails and they were unaware of it until I posted it today. I am going to sort my emails by "last" first, close my eyes and hit "Delete all" on each page until I am down to a manageable 100 or so. Since they date back to 2004, if I deleted anything important, I imagine it won't matter any more.

My husband always said, "I've never thrown away anything I thought was important, until I threw something away and lived to regret it.

On to the email deletion process, can taxes be far behind?

Cabin Fever 101

Snow is beautiful, but enough already! I had to cancel two appointments since it all began. I had an appointment to get my jaw X-rayed two days ago, due to a pain in my jaw and ear. As luck would have it, the machine was broken, or someone didn't know how to work it, so the conversation went something like this . . . ."Hmm", said Mr. Techie, "The machine won't move for me". "Just a minute while I check something". He was gone about five minutes and returned with another techie, who scratched his head and tried desparately to move the machine, all the while muttering, "The machine seems to be stuck".

He shook his head and left me with Mr. Techie number one. Mr. Techie then said, "we'll have to try something else". So he positioned my jaw against the machine that takes chest or back X-rays, with me hanging on to my cane precariously, as he positioned my jaw pressed up against the machine and proceded to tilt my chin up and down. Although I was unbalanced, he said, "Now hold it that way and I'll be right back". He tried oh so hard to get four X-rays, two with jaw open, two with my jaw closed.

After several doses of radiation, Mr. Techie then came from the safety of the glass he was behind, pondered for a moment and then said, "Hmm" "that didn't work". "I'll be right back". He left the room, came back and said, "We'll try it this way". "Lie on your stomach and I'll use the overhead X-ray machine", he said triumphantly. "Did you notice I had a stroke and can't lie on my stomach?", I responded. "Hmm", he said nervously, "Maybe you should just come back another day when the machine is working". "Of course, you have to register again, but it would really be better for you to do that". Mr. Techie is getting smarter by the minute.

The Radiation department called yesterday to tell me the machine is working, but then added, "I don't think you should come in today, do you?" First smart thing they said.

When the music died

I haven't written anything for a long while; first, I was too busy planning a Christmas surprise for my kids and then the day after Christmas there were no words to describe what was locked in my heart.

Mary broke the spell with her great blog and I decided it was time to write again, and maybe sharing with all of you will help dispel some of the pain.

Christmas Day was wonderful for all of us as my kids learned "This Buds For You" was really true, as they each got a nice check when I had to cash in my Bud stock when Bud became InBev.

As for me, I got a new bannister and an airline ticket to anywhere when the rest of my Christmas wishes are granted. I asked to have the inside painted and furniture moved out so I could get some much needed carpet installed. Being very canny and smart, the kids all agreed I needed to be gone when they worked their magic.

Christmas night, Kathy headed to her sister-in-law's brother's house, where he greeted her with his own hat creation. Kathy was delighted and they had a fantastic time singing Karaoke songs all evening.

Back at home Kathy's daughter, Beth downloaded songs for her on the new iPod Kathy got for Christmas. Kathy sang and danced to Mama Mia" until almost midnight, went to bed and never again would wake up. They said it was a heart attack.

How I wish I could give her a hug once more. I take comfort in the knowledge that she died exactly as she wanted - in her sleep, peacefully dreaming of Christmas.

CATS I'VE KNOWN

A Cat by Any Other Name
When we moved into our first home, a wild cat obviously recognizing a new food chain, began hanging around. We couldn’t get near her but judging by her, pardon the pun, hangdog expression, she was sorely in need of food.
As any family with kids will tell you, it was never a question of “Can we feed her?“, but rather “How soon can you get to the store“? So began the saga of “Mama” cat. No matter how much we stuffed her with food, she resisted every effort to let anyone pet her, instead making sure no one was nearby to see her consume her free handouts.
As the days got cold, it soon became clear that “Mama” at one time in her past, had been “friendlier” than she was now and was going to have kittens, hence her ferocious appetite.
Between our back steps and the house, there was just enough space to drop a tennis ball and that’s where “Mama” decided to drop her four kittens. There was no doubt they would freeze if we didn’t help her, so with much spitting, scratching and clawing from the ungrateful wretch, we successfully transferred the family to our basement where we had made a bed for her.
She was terrified, as she had never been inside before, and would have bolted at once if not for her motherly instincts. Of course, the kittens all were given names and unlike their mother, were very happy to have a warm place to stay. “Mama” was greatly relieved when they were all allowed outside again.
One of the kittens was named George who was very playful and frisky. Seven months had passed and we found out just how frisky George was, as “George” had a litter of five which made nine cats! To make matters worse, poor dumb playgirl “Georgette” had no clue about “birthin’ no babies”, so “Mama” had to do all the dirty work and nurse the newborns besides. We were finally able to spread the kitten wealth, which just left “Mama” to contend with, who was still no friendlier than when she first came into our lives.
We used to have an egg man who delivered eggs every week and, out of desperation, asked him if he wanted “Mama” cat. “Sure”, he said, “the farm can always use a good mouser”. Arrangements were made and we put “Mama”, spitting, snarling and screaming, in a box to take her to the farm, an hour away.
Poor Paul, holding the box on his lap, had to contend with a clawing arm every few minutes as “Mama” tried to escape. After a harrowing trip and the awful stench of cat pervading the car, we finally arrived with frayed nerves, Paul’s arms scratched beyond belief, and a sense of relief from Ed and me.

Cooking 101

I decided to fix dinner for our family today and thanks to Kathy, Chris and my supervision, we did it! I am exhausted and realize for the first time since my stroke that I simply can't cook without help. What a blow.

With all three of us working busily, it still took three hours to assemble this meal and get it in the oven. We did double the recipe so we can have a second meal at a later time. The most remarkable thing about it though, was that too many cooks did not "spoil the broth" as the saying goes.

I suppose I will try to help more with cooking dinner, as long as long-suffering Chris will help me with it. Cooking was never my forte, but I love to try out new recipes. Hopefully, everyone will like this one, because we have another complete meal in the freezer.

Back in the "What's for dinner?" days, I made a meat loaf one evening, and while it was okay, it tasted a little funny. Ed said, "Did you do something different with the meat loaf"? Much to my chagrin, it turned out that what I thought was groumd beef was ground pork sausage. And that was just one of my more unevenful meals. On second thought, maybe I won't cook any more meals.