Saturday, February 27, 2016

It's Always Somethin'

If you are as old as me you remember Roseanne Roseannadanna from SNL who said the phrase, "It's always somethin' "

It is our life of late.
Rick's foot has been swelling and causing him extreme pain. At 4am today it was so large he could not get it in a shoe to get himself to the ER. He had what looked like water blisters as well.
We were both convinced this was the new medication he needed for 30 days after his Nap and Zap.

But at 4am he was trying not to scream in pain. We got dressed to go to the ER., Then Izzy decided this was a good time to poop. I took her and he went to the ER alone which for some reason made me feel terrible, like a bad wife.

His diagnosis? Shingles. Apparently the stress that his body has been through left that window wide open. Even if he had gotten the vaccine as his wife nagged him about they felt it would have done nothing. He was told when he was zapped, it shuts down everything and it was the window that allowed this to fly in.  Oh yippee.

So no Florida for me as we were planning. Tickets will be canceled and we'll lose the money. But better than losing Rick.  Instead of feet in the sand on my birthday I'll be getting a shingles vaccine on Friday. Sounds like a rip roaring good time huh?

Boy my life is fun, you're jealous aren't you? I knew it.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Punishment

My parents believed in hitting their children. 
It was a different era, that's for sure.
I was hit with my father's belt up until the time the buckle left a welt on my leg and he never would touch me again. He told me this when I was around 18-19. 
I remember the event but I never knew why we were never hit again. 
Now slapped....another story.

I had a sassy mouth. Can't imagine that can you?
We always had to eat everything on our plate and if we hated it we still had to eat a tablespoon of it. I sat staring at my food and my father said to me, "eat that or you're going to bed with nothing. There are starving kids in India."  I said,"cmon name one." 
I got slapped and sent to my room with no more dinner. 
I wasn't upset. I hated beets and still do.  (and I still find that funny)

Once when I was 6 I said a bad word in Italian that I heard my mom say. Yep, slapped and soap in my mouth. But I didn't understand why that was wrong when she said that...all the time. 

Another time when I was probably 13 or so  I remember when my father came home late from work already angry about God knows what.  He walked into our house yelling, " Why hasn't the lawn been mowed?"  My mom of course at this time had died so I had no one to cover for me anymore.  I walked into the kitchen and said I just didn't get around to it today Dad, maybe we need to get some goats.  I laughed and he slapped me. Guess he thought that was disrespectful. Guess who had the lawn mowed the next day? Yep, me and my pride.

As my father grew up there was no more slapping or hitting. My 4 younger sisters missed out on all of that. Lucky them. Looking back my father was very young and since his family dynamic was so messed up he had no father figure to really learn from. My mom's father I had never met because he died before I was born, but from what my mom and dad told me, he was a mean SOB and I never knew if he struck his children but my mom was adamant about not doing that.(Slapping apparently to her was not hitting.)

But just because I was no longer slapped or given the belt doesn't mean I was not disciplined.  Oh boy, I was grounded so much I thought I'd never see the light of day outside my house.

When I was 14 I got caught smoking pot with my cousin. I had to spend the whole summer in my house. I was not allowed to talk on the phone and the tv in my room was removed. He also took away my bike.  My bike was my freedom before I could drive. I think that was the worst.  No beach, no friends, no life.
I could read, help my step mom clean, do laundry etc, help with the children. oh yippee.

That was to be all my activities for June,July, and August. 
I remember a couple of things during that period. 
One was the dreaded phone call.
Since I wasn't even allowed to answer the phone, my father answered it.
I heard him say, "Peggy can't talk on the phone until she goes back to school. You can talk to her in September."  And he hung up. 
OMG. I began to cry. I was so damn embarrassed that he would say this to a friend.  I asked who it was. He said he didn't know and walked away. I wailed, "I am going to be an old maid" Where that came from I have no idea but I remember running down the hall after saying that and throwing myself on my bed crying. Oh so dramatic like only a hormonal teen can be.  It was the longest damn summer of my life.

One time while grounded I was to clean his cars and do all these other extra chores from my own regular chores. I was normally grounded for sassing them. Now that they didn't hit, something was taken out of my life to make it pure hell for me.  Why did I keep doing it?  because if I wasn't snarky my head would explode. The day of car washing and edging the grass around the driveway I went to my back yard when I was finished. I was in my bathing suit which I wore to wash the cars.  I sat on a chaise and put baby oil all over me to get some sun. (remember when no one used sunscreen?)
My neighbor Mark stood at the end of his property line in his backyard and screamed to me. We both just screamed back and forth because he knew I was grounded. My mom opened the window after seeing this and said, "Mark can come over before your dad gets home"  So Mark hearing this walks over.
We were just hanging out and talking when my mom opened the window and said, "Your father is coming"  You would never have seen a human move so fast as Mark did. He was lightening. He was afraid of my father. Which I find pretty funny, but not at that time. I was certain my father was going to drive all boys away forever. 

Once when sitting out around our little pool in the backyard in my bikini with some neighbor kids and my sisters my father came home. He saw me outside and came out with a t-shirt and in front of everyone he told me to put it on. It felt like the world stopped. It was silent and I was mortified. But, I did as told and he went inside. I was 14 or 15.  Now as an adult, I know why he asked that. I had big boobs. He wanted 110lb me with DD's to be covered. Seriously Dad? Won't the boys see them in my shirt?  God my father made me so self-conscious as a young woman.  He was a person one would watch to know what NOT to do while raising a daughter.  But he had 5 of them and I was the first. He got better...not by much but my sisters had it pretty easy in comparison.  

As an adult at age 40, he told me he felt badly for me because I didn't have children. You're not a real woman Peg if you aren't married and having children. This career of yours will eventually just make you a lonely bitter woman.
That was the last time he ever talked to me like that. I had just turned 40. I told him that I was an adult and he can't come to my home and disrespect me like that. How would he have felt if his mother told him how to live his life?
I continued with the fact that he is so stubborn and has deliberately done the opposite at times when told what to do.  I told him if he ever spoke to me like that again, he could stay away. He never did. He hugged me then. Did not say he was sorry because I knew he wasn't. But I never forgot that crazy ass thinking of his.  I am not sure a slap could have hurt any more.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

File Under....Can't make this shit up!

Yesterday Gary had an appointment at a woman's home at 12:30 pm.
This particular woman was a realtor. As I have said ad nauseum here on my blog that realtors have been a pain in the arse.  Now we have some that are terrific, however, that is 3 out of hundreds.

My first encounter with this lovely lass was a month ago.
I asked all the questions like the simple one of, has this tub been reglazed before?
Oh no, she says. We went over everything even though I knew she wasn't listening....she's too important you know.
Then I booked her appointment and she had a hissy fit. 3 weeks? I have to wait 3 weeks? (people it takes me longer to get in to see my hairdresser, chill out)

I got a cancelation sooner so I called her. She didn't call me back.  I called her again. She never called me back so it went to the next person.
She called back after 2 weeks and bitched that I didn't hold it for her.
I let her go off on me and then told her we'd see her on Tuesday, Feb 23rd at 12:30p

I called her on Friday the 19th, I called her on Monday the 22nd. She was not returning my calls. She was to give us a combo box number. She finally called at 9:30 pm on Monday night to tell me that she would be there because she lives next door.  This home is her rental. (slum lord)

We arrive at 12:20p and she is not there. Gary realizing he is early sits in the driveway and waits, and waits.  He again goes next door - no answer. He goes back to the home we are to work in and there is someone that looks homeless and a heroin addict and it scares him.  He sees the man break into the house through a window.  Gary left. He called her. She said, "Oh just wait for me I'll be there in 45 minutes or so." She went on to tell Gary that the man who got in is good at finding ways in as though she knows him and tells Gary to go upstairs and get started.

He walked into the bathroom and found a hot mess. The tub had been refinished a couple of times before. The wall around the tub looked as though it had been moved back when they put in the new tile and they damaged the full ledge of the tub and took out huge chunks of the tub.  Gary called her. He said this tub has been reglazed before there will be an additional cost of $xyz. She begins to yell, "so what if it has I shouldn't have to pay more." He explains that it is an additional 2.5 hrs of labor of stripping that is the reason for the charge. Also, the chunks out of the tub need to be rebuilt and that would be an additional $150. That makes her blow her lid.

Now I wanted to set up an estimate for us to go out and look at this a month ago, she kept telling me her spiel, "I'm too busy, just give me a ballpark." I even asked for her to send photos. "too damn busy" She insisted it was just old, never refinished before. Yep.

She begins to scream through the phone that she has a guy who will do this for $300 so why don't you start negotiating with me Gary. Gary tells her this is the price.  She tells him to do this under the table and he can get the full $300. Gary tells her even if he did that it would be impossible for it to be only $300 for all the work and chemicals I have to use ma'am.  She then lets out a primal scream into the phone and hangs up.

At this point, Gary is completely befuddled. He decides to call me and as he does that his phone rings and it's her. She is ranting about how she has a guy who will do this for $300 or less all over again. Gary said, "did you call him?"  She responded, "Hundreds of times,  he won't answer the phone."  Gary said he tried not to laugh and just told her if she was not happy with this price he was going to have to go to his next job.

Then as if nothing had transpired previously she says calmly "Okay, could you please give (the heroin addict) a ride to this address?"  Gary said, "No ma'am I can't I am working and I will be going on to my next appointment"
She then began yelling again that we were unprofessional and that he should be able to do her a favor and drive this guy (to another city no less) to where he needed to go because she was very busy. Then my favorite, "I'm a realtor and I have important things to do, not like you."

Now Gary is mild mannered and would never ever speak back to someone so to get her off the phone he just said, "Okay."  Hung up, got in his truck and drove to the next appointment and called me with this whole saga. He was worried that we were going to be upset if he walked away from the job and that he said yes and just left.  Hell no!
If she is psycho now, it will only get worse.  Know when to fold them!! But knowing Gary like I do, I knew he was upset.  It really rattled him. He is a big guy but a big ole softy.  He kept saying, "I think she was certifiable Peg" That made me laugh.

He told me the house was a mess and she was going on and on about diplomats moving in there.  He said, there is no way a diplomat and family is going to live in this awful little dirty home.

I know there must be some great realtors out there. But for some reason, I have never met many of those.

When we moved to Seattle we had one that I will never forget.
We were in front of the house waiting for her. Rick spoke to her on the phone because he was living there before I got there. I was coming in for the weekend to look at homes. We were sitting in the car in front of the house. A car pulled up behind us. Rick is looking in his rear view mirror and says, "Oh my this must be her, put your visor down and look in the  mirror"

She had big hair like the 80's only it was 1993. You know like something out of a big hair rock band. She got out of her car apparently blind to the fact that we were in front of her and proceeded to put the zipper down on her top so her boobs were really showing and then she squeezed her arms together and made herself some cleveage.  It was funny. Then she lifted her zipper jacket and rolled up her skirt to make it shorter and then walked in the house. So short if she had pubic hair we would have seen it. Now this was not a hot chick. Think of that gross tan woman in the movie, "What about Mary" That was her.

Rick and I were laughing our asses off. I said, "did you tell her your wife was coming?"  He laughed and said he thought so.  When we got inside the look on her face when she saw me was hysterical.  But the skirt did not get longer and her zipper didn't go up. I even said, "You bra is showing" and pointed to her top while Rick was in the other room. She looked down and finally zipped it up a little bit.  Seriously she was funny. No, we did not buy that house and we found another realtor.

I was walking Izzy one day this past summer and a house a few blocks away was for sale. I saw the realtor locking up the house and go to his car.  He is well known around here. We said hello.  Big name kind of guy around these parts. Izzy did her business and we were walking back home and went by him again. There he was peeing from the passenger seat of his car onto the tree lawn.  I saw him and he just looked at me like it was no big deal.
Honest to God you can't make this up!   Who does that?  How disgusting!
If you are in your car a great deal and you are a man, get a bottle for heaven's sake. To just whip it out and pee in public is crazy shit.  I did not need to see that old geezers weiner!

See why I think what I do about realtors?

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Heart is Beating Correctly

Yesterday was a long day.
We had to be at the hospital at 7 am.
Neither of us has ever been to this hospital before, and not sure where it was.

We loaded Izzy into the car at 5:50a to drop off at daycare.
We had no idea how long or short this whole thing would be and I surely didn't want to leave the dog here all day.
We dropped her off at 6 am and headed to the hospital.

Remember we have a rental vehicle. Oh my goodness. Rick is messing with the GPS as I am trying to figure out the lights and then 1/2 way there we have to pull off because Rick has to use a restroom. Honestly that man.

We get back on the highway and find our way to the hospital.
We get inside and a very nice woman asks Rick for all his paperwork and gives him a sucker because he finished it online the night before as asked.  Apparently she had no extra work to do and that made her happy. That made me laugh. But he couldn't have the sucker since he wasn't allowed to eat or drink since midnight. I told him if he was a good boy he'd get it after this was over.

We were then escorted to the back, which was the surgical center.
Rick and I were led to a room. A slew of nurses came in and asked Rick to take his shirt off. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging down and she was now standing in between his legs like she was going to help him take off his shirt. She said it again, "Rick take your shirt off" He said, "you first"  She laughed so hard and looked at me and I said, "hey, you can slap him if you want I'm okay with it"  The other nurse yelled outside the curtain, "we have a live one in here girls."  Then they all walked in to see him. Of course, he loved every minute of it. The woman who had to shave areas of his chest said, "no funny business mister I have a sharp instrument."  I don't even recall what he said to her but it caused her to just begin giggling. She said to me, "he's a sweetheart" Ah, she doesn't live with him. But he kept them all laughing and then they were on him the whole day like flies on shit. Need some orange juice Mr. Rick? Would you like a warm blanket Mr. Rick?  I think all his jokes got him a slew of attention he wouldn't have otherwise gotten. I sat in a corner and was mostly ignored. I didn't mind one bit.

I couldn't take my eyes off the machine showing his heart beat. Oh my was it erratic. Which is why we were there I know. But to see it skip beats and then see it become fast and erratic and then go back to skipping a few beats, it was scary to watch.

While all the nurses were buzzing around him, taping him, jabbing him with needles and attaching wires and the like a few others walked in. A man named Stuart. He was the man who was going to be monitoring the EKG machine as the doctor did his thing. When he introduced himself to Rick we all began discussing the procedure and Rick used his phrase, nap and zap.  Stuart said he was stealing that phrase because that was indeed the exact thing that was happening. He went over all that was happening with him so we would understand.

Then the anesthesiologist walked in and introduced himself. I have no recollection of his name. Ladies, well and men too, he was GORGEOUS.
I saw his lips move but heard nothing but angels. He was a hunk-a-hunk-a-burning love.
When he left my husband said laughing, "You know I'm right here don't you?"
"Who are you again?  Oh, cmon Rick you have to see how gorgeous he was and his arms. Oh, my, his arms...and butt."
Rick just laughed and said, "nice, your husband is hooked up to machinery and you're in the corner drooling over his doctor."  Yep.

At this time, his doctor came in. Asked how he was doing. Rick made a smart ass answer and asked the doctor, "how are you feeling? Get a good nights sleep?"
Doctor B said, "Oh hell, I'm just flipping a switch Rick"
That made us all laugh. They were all so nice and making me calmer. I know it wasn't about me. But it did help me.

I was escorted out of Ricks room into the waiting room.
There were 2 women with me in this room. The one was bitching a fit that she didn't want this channel on the tv. I didn't either. Trumpapoolza.  Hell no!
She said can't they change the channel?  Then her phone rang. I went up front and asked if we could watch anything other than Trump the asshole. The woman told us there was a remote with the magazine rack on the wall.
I went back and changed the channel and the 2 women applauded me.  It was funny and took my mind off what was going on in the other side of the room.

The doctor came out pretty quickly. He sat down and said, "Your husband's heart was stubborn."  I said that doesn't surprise me since he is too.
He stated they can't do this more than 3 times (zap him) It finally went into the correct rythem after the 3rd time. He said that sometimes they have this issue when they have a big guy. Sometimes when that happens it will revert. Because we don't want that to happen he will have to take a medication that he would call in for us later in the day.  He said I could go back and see him but he was not able to leave for at least another hour.

Rick was groggy but by the time we left he was feeling pretty good.
When I got him home and settled in I went to my office.
I heard him say out loud to no one in particular, "I feel so good!! I don't feel my heart beating through my chest"
Goof ball. But I knew he felt better. And he looked better by last night. Pink like you are supposed to look. Not gray.

Today he feels like he was beat up, his muscles feel like he was exercising.
Don't know why that is but he is so much better already. He is tired today but as he said, "it's not like the tired before this when my heart was beating so fast that I was exhausted"

I hope that this stays so we don't have to go through this ever again.
He is unable to drive this week.
The doctor said that Rick should be able to resume work slowly and be just fine. He also gave us the clear to go to Florida. But we can't if we don't get paid from that company I told you about. (they claim it will be here friday  - heard that before)

We bought the tickets months ago for my big birthday that I can't even type the number. Long weekend kind of thing. We'll see. I am so happy Rick is feeling better and all is well.  Going to Florida would be nice, but it really doesn't matter as long as he's well. But feeling well with my feet in the sand and a cocktail in my hand would be great too.

Whew.

Friday, February 19, 2016

It's Friday Wine Day.

Yes, it's Friday. Let's celebrate with some wine or whine. I heard that yesterday was National Drink Wine Day and I missed it. As you can imagine for me to miss that, it's been a bad week.

Wednesday evening (day of accident) my head hurt so badly I wanted to cry.
I have never ever had a headache like this. I was nauseous as hell and I was sore everywhere.  I just figured the accident, the stress, no biggie. I knew I'd be sore. Then I kept waking up all night with this headache that was just barking at me and my neck was so sore. I got up and took some advil and went back to bed.

Yesterday morning it wouldn't leave. When Rick got home I had my head on the desk.  He encouraged me to go to Urgent Care. I said no, I'll be fine, its nothing.
About an hour later I realized that is what he does to me when I ask him to seek help or treatment and it drives me bat shit crazy.

Guess what I did?  I grabbed my purse and drove over to urgent care. I was the only one there and I must admit that is rare.  I got right in and after my exam and testing with my eyes and all kinds of goofy things I was told I had "whiplash" which the doctor informed me they no longer call it that.

They gave me a shot in my hip and told me to lie on the exam table and they'd be back in. They closed the door, turned off the lights and bam, I was out.  It felt like I slept for hours when they walked back in. They repeated some tests and walked me through the Rx they were giving me and telling me not to work for a couple of days. Yea, right. I'm self-employed, no work, no food. Peggy likes to eat.

The shot took my headache down 50% but it was still there.
I got 2 Rx, one for inflammation and one to relax my muscles. She told me to take it at bedtime. It was valium. Having only had valium once in my 20's before my first back surgery I knew it made me laugh like crazy. Not the reaction one is supposed to get from this stuff.

Before bed I said to Rick, I am taking this to help me sleep so if Izzy needs to go out or needs anything it's all on you tonight okay?  He says, "No problem. I got it covered Margaret"

I take my valium and it hit me just like they said it would. I was asleep in no time. Until I hear the dog gagging like she may vomit.
Rick sleeps through the whole thing.  I get her outside and while it was just bile I am concerned that something is wrong with Miss Izzy. She has had tummy issues for a week or so now and that is not normal. So after she is ill, we walked a few blocks. Because really, doesn't everyone do this at 2 am?  She appears happy, her tail wagging and she seems normal. We came back in and she went to her covered corner of the sofa.  After this bone-chilling cold walk, I feel very much awake. I sit on the sofa and think, Gee glad Rick was willing to do this tonight.

As Izzy is settling in, I get a glass of water and think I may just watch How to Get Away with Murder that I recorded since I went to bed at 10p. I turned it on but that was all I saw. I too fell right to sleep on the sofa.

At 3:45 (am) I hear her shake, which makes her collar jingle. She does her I have to go to the bathroom stare. Oh for the love of God dog, you're killing me. We go outside and she quickly pees AGAIN and we come back inside. At least, this was quick. Now, we've awakened sleeping beauty and he comes down the stairs asking what is going on?
I wanted to hit him or be snarky but only told him what was going on.
He told me to go back to bed. I climb the stairs and crawl into my warm bed.
I can't sleep. I laid there until 4:30a. Then I got up and went back downstairs to find Rick watching TV.  I turned on the coffee pot and said, we may as well have some coffee and get on with our day.

All the while this headache is bearing down and I really can't believe that a headache this bad isn't a tumor. Gee, how awful would that be?
I wouldn't wish this kind of a headache on anyone.

My rental car is a Toyota 4runner. It's a truck basically. I need a ladder to get in this thing. It only had 33 miles on it when given to me so it even has a new car smell. But getting in this thing is not easy for 5'1" me. I have to open the door, put my leg up as high as my chest and then grab the wheel and pull myself in.
If I were wearing anything other than pants this would be a sight. Hell, it's funny now. When I shared this with Rick he laughed, not having been in the car yet. So yesterday when I was leaving he came out to see the car as I got in. He had a mighty good laugh. I have this rental until my car is done. They expect that to be done on the 4th of March. So I will be climbing up into this car for awhile.

Oh, and did I share this tidbit?  The afternoon of the accident, as I was sitting at the service station that I was told to go to by the insurance of the person who hit me, guess who walks in? Yep, the man that hit me. He sees me and says, "Oh I'm so sorry."  Honestly, this young man has apologized so many times it crazy. I told him that it's called an accident because he didn't mean to do it. I am fine and my dog is fine and he is fine so our cars can be fixed - all good. He said he wasn't sure his car wasn't totaled. He asked if I was sore because he was very sore. I told him I was indeed. He said, "you told my insurance company right?"  I told him I did. If one must be hit, this young man was a very nice person to hit me. I'd show you pictures of his and my car but I'm sure he wouldn't want his license plate on the web. I don't know how to block that out or I'd show you photos of our cars.

My weekend plan is nothing. Oh, sure, clean toilets and the like because we all know how much fun that is. But nothing more than cleaning and trying to rid myself of a headache. The cure may involve a glass or two of dry red wine.
Monday morning we must be at the hospital at 7 am for Rick.

I hope and pray that all the bad shit is over with now. Life will only be on the upswing from this day forward. Hey - a girl can dream.
Hope you all have a wonderfully calm and happy weekend.

I'll be back before you know it.
Oh and btw, I think I can do a password thing but you may all have to email me to get it. I will continue to work on it. I so want to go back to how I was here in my little space. But don't worry, I'll let you all know when it will be needed before I do it.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Walking

I was taking Izzy to daycare at 7:20a this morning. 
As I sat in a line of cars waiting to get through a stop sign I was rear ended.

I pulled over and the young man who hit me jumped out and apologized profusely.
My car is drivable per se, but without a back tail light they are telling me it's not.
It's a real mess. I drive a Toyota highlander and the back gate is messed up, the bumper is shot and the driver side back panel is one big crunched up piece of metal.  His RAV4 is worse.

Boy things are sure on the upswing aren't they? 
I am sore as the morning has progressed but I'm sure I'll be fine. 
Took some ibuprofen for my headache and soreness. I believe it too shall pass.

Monday is Rick's nap and zap.  I am thankful that will be over soon. He needs to have his energy back. While the whole idea of this is off putting for me I know its what he needs to not be fatigued. So let's get it done!

And lastly, I want to share with you that I am thinking of walking away from the blog unless I can figure out a way to do it so only those I want here in my blog world see it.
My husband told someone about my blog and I have not been myself here. I would have thought you all could tell but if not that is the reason for me walking away. I need to be myself here as I am in life.

Anyone have any ideas? Someone told me you can do it with a password but how does that work?  Any ideas would be helpful. Or I close up shop soon I guess.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Knitting

Way back in the old days I used to knit. I know that's funny to everyone for some reason.
It began in home ec class. To you young 'ens that is a class that was taught in the 1970's for men and women called home economics. We learned how to cook, bake, read a lease, manage money, make jams and jellies and knit and sew. Basic living skills to live on one's own in the '70s mentality.
The class on cooking for one was depressing as hell but I learned a lot. Hell, I never was afraid of parking garages until we watched a video of looking in the back seat before you get in your car. I also learned how to read a lease and was horrified that there was a security deposit & 1st-month rent to sign a lease. I remember telling my parents that was crazy, I'll never move out.

The boys in my class were generally better at the cooking & baking than we girls. Gary was the king of meringues.  His were always perfection. A big ole football player who could whip up a mean meringue. He also took shop where he made some mean things when working on building anything with wood.  He was a renaissance man and he didn't even know it. Today he is a contractor and I'm not surprised.

I remember knitting a pair of mittens in red and black my school colors. I only did basic knitting, I was not good enough for the sweater type clothing.  I knit into my mid 20's. I found it so relaxing.
Because of the stress I have been feeling I decided to try to knit again.
But the problem was I didn't remember a thing about it.
I enrolled in a beginner class, however, with all the medical appointments and Rick's inability to drive I had to cancel my classes.

I was contacted by the instructor that a new class was beginning in February in the evenings and would I like to attend.  Last Tuesday was my first night. I walked the dog, made sure Rick had all he needed nearby and I went to my first class. I was concerned that it would be a bunch of old fuddy-duddies that weren't going to be a fun group. How wrong I was.

The ages range from 40 to 78. It is a motley crew of funny smart women.
My sister asked if this was a bunch of old gray haired ladies?  I told her only 1 had gray hair, we color our hair now. She laughed. These women were nice and I wasn't the worst one in the bunch and that was nice for my self-esteem. They are all so very educated with awesome careers that are so very interesting. (My favorite part of living in this area.)

Last night was my 2nd class. We were told of a homework assignment and to bring it all in to class this week to go over. We would be discussing the mistakes and what was done correctly and how to fix mistakes we made. As we were all sitting around the table b.s.'ing before class I realized I was the only one who did the assignment. Instead of being happy with myself, I began to doubt myself. Did she tell us to do this or am I imagining things?

Class started and Elaine (instructor) asked for our homework. Whew.  We were supposed to do this.
I got mine out. No one else moved. Elaine said, "Is Peg the only one who did this?" Nina winked at me and said, "she's the brown nose" That made us all laugh. Now I am getting ribbed like nobodies business.  We are all laughing when Elaine leaves the room. A few minutes pass and she walks in with a 10% off card for purchases I may need at the Yarn store. She handed it to me along with a cappuccino from the bakery next door. I asked why are you giving me this? She said, "you wanted coffee last week so badly and I thought I'd give you some coffee for following the assignment and here is a gift card for some supplies"  I didn't want to not drink it because that would be offensive. I am dieting and not doing dairy so I drank it. Oooh, it was good. Things you aren't supposed to have area always so damn good aren't they?

The brown nose comments only grew after getting the card and coffee from the instructor.
I heard brown nose most of the night.
Something would happen and they would begin to giggle and then whisper brown nose. Sometimes they would pretend they were coughing while saying, brown nose.  It was funny.  They didn't let up all night. One of the pieces was very long and slender. It was to just practice casting on and binding off. The 78yr old proclaimed it looked like a penis sock.  Another replied, "for a pencil dick" So then Nina chimes in with, "it's for her husband" That got them all in hysterics. The fact that they all find themselves so amusing is funny as well. Elaine just shakes her head.

This crazy group of women are risque, smart, fun, and just what the doctor ordered for me.
I love that in the evening after doing all I need to do I have my knitting to occupy my hands.
I don't handle stress well and I find that I want a glass of wine or something bad to eat.
I don't want to do that either, so this way I am knitting and I can't do anything else while I do it.
It relaxes me big time.  It's very zen for me. It is just what the doctor ordered.

I don't imagine I will have anything to show that looks like a piece of clothing or hat anytime soon, though.
Does anyone need a penis sock?

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Big Man Still Down

Tomorrow is the day we find out when and where Rick gets his heart "restarted" 
Or as he is now referring to it as his, "Nap and Zap"

If this does work I hope that it gives him his energy back. Boy, he has no energy.
I am having a very difficult time with all of this. Watching him is killing me.

His knee was given a cortisone shot prior to the MRI. It just made his knee mad. 
It swelled up so much he couldn't put on his jeans. His knee was a site to see, red, 6 times its size and hot. The doctor was convinced it was a torn meniscus. 
After the MRI we learned it was not a torn meniscus. It was the tendon behind his knee that is non existent. If the 2nd cortisone didn't give him relief, which the dr. seemed to think it would for a few years, he would have to have a partial knee replacement. 
It's been 4 days. It looks better, he can put his leg in his jeans and he can walk for the first time in a very long time. But it's not 100%. I fear the surgery will be sooner than this doctor thinks.

Add to this stress the fact that a company owes us over $43K and aren't paying and we are stressed beyond belief. I hate waiting for my money. I hate that I have bills to pay and employees and I want my money it's been over 60 days. It's getting scary. We are a little business. 

So stress is my life right now. I am feeling overwhelmed most days.
I am not sleeping well and my poor dog won't leave Rick's side.
Due to his pain he has slept many a night in his recliner. Izzy sleeps at his feet at the recliner.
If he is in bed, she is on top of him in bed. She doesn't sleep in our bed normally.
If he gets up to go to the bathroom, she follows him. It's funny, but sad.
But something got to her last night.
I awoke to vomit on my nice wool rug in the dining room and by the back door on the carpet as the majority of her gift to me.
God love her, I can see that she tried to get outside but since she doesn't have thumbs she couldn't turn the door knob to get outside, she was close and just vomited right at the door.

I think the stress of her big man being down is getting to her too. 

Thursday, February 4, 2016

4:03 AM

The dog comes over to my side of the bed panting, touching my hand softly with her nose.
Oh, how I don't want to get up. I open one eye and see that the clock on my nightstand says 4:03.
She is now pacing and panting so I know the poor thing has to go.

I grab something that resembles clothing and head downstairs as fast as my little feet can get me there. I grab my coat and inside the pocket is a doggy poop bag. We head out the door.
She is going at a mean clip. I am really not even fully awake. But Miss Izzy is in a hurry and that is a real concern. We had gone out at 10:45pm before bed so the first thing that went through my mind was that she needed to go again because it was diarrhea.  So I am hurrying as best I can.

As Izzy is prone to do, we must go to the place she likes to poop in the early morning hours - 7 1/2 blocks away.  Oh, brother.

She begins to circle and I see a man or a woman on their stoop. I make it a point that she see me pick up her poo (yes, my diagnosis was correct) . I assume the person is staring at us for fear I am one of those people who don't pick up after their dog.  But no, she is certifiable and wants a confrontation at the wee hours of the morning.

I snap my fingers and Izzy is at my side and we are headed down the sidewalk with our hot steaming bag of poo when she yells at me. Then I realize it's a woman.
She yells, "Hey is your dog on a leash? "
I tell her no, I just ran out of the house so quickly and didn't grab it, we're not far from home, though.

Then she runs down her townhouse steps and proceeds to walk on the sidewalk on her side of the street across from me yelling at me the entire time.  Yelling so loudly, it was quite startling at that hour. She was yelling things rapid fire like she really didn't want me to answer.  All the while, she is running down the sidewalk across from Izzy and me and I must admit I was a bit frightened of her. She appeared to be certifiable. I wanted to get home quickly. Izzy and I speed up.

"Do you know it's illegal to have your dog off leash?"
"Do you know that I was bitten by a Great Dane?"
"What kind of dog is that?"
"Hey, can you hear me? I was bitten by a Great Dane!"

I stop.  "Yes, I hear you as I am sure most of the block can ma'am. Yes, I know it's illegal, it's 4 am and I ran out of the house without it. It's also illegal for me to not be dressed in public. Turn me in. The dog is a pit bull mix (yes I know it was a lie so she doesn't call the HOA)
She continues to follow me all the while telling me about being bitten by a damn Great Dane over and over again.

I stopped.  Izzy instantly sits at my feet. This shocks the woman so she stopped.
I yelled back, "The only thing you have to worry about biting you is me! Back off woman, it's 4 am - go home"

She did. I was actually shocked that worked.

Not proud that I did that but for the love of God what is with people? What was she even doing on her steps at that hour?  And in a bathrobe to boot.
I'm glad she turned and ran because I really didn't want to have to bite her.

Just Stress


I got nothin'

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Speech

My sister called the other day. That was monumental because she doesn't call anyone in the family.In fact if  you call her she doesn't return your calls, or texts, or smoke signals.

Since being a very small child, she has played the victim and pushes everyone away. She's always been angry, her reality has always been different from all of us around her. She's generally mean with a huge chip on her shoulder. But she is my sister and while I don't like her most of the time I do love her. She's behaved this way since she was at least 6 years old. 
Odd, I know. Nothing can be discussed or she gets angry and it gets ugly. We all have tried. After my mom died it only got worse. It just is what it is now. We all tread lightly and cautiously.

She called to ask about Rick, which was so out of character that I was seriously Gob Smacked.
I thanked her and acted like this was normal and we had a nice conversation.
Then she went on to tell me that she was telling her new boyfriend (she's a widow) about me having to practice my R's for speech class and how it drove the family crazy and would make me cry. (The sound was like ERR ERR ERR)

It was very nice to have her call and it was even nicer that we could laugh like that. 
It is so rare with her I'm sorry to say. I thanked her for making my day and calling. 

I was over at Mike's blog and he was talking about words pronounced incorrectly as well as saying them with a speech impediment and I had to laugh that this seemed to be this week's topic with everyone  apparently.

I couldn't say my R's. I remember coming home from school with a note stating that I had to go to speech classes 3 times a week at school. I was removed from my reading class and went to speech class in another room since first grade. 
I loved the characters that took the class with me. We were all together until the 7th grade in this class. A class of misfits. 

There was a dirty little boy named Chuck that was so funny. He always looked dirty, and the thing I remember most is that he was so happy. He was always smiling. Dressed like Beaver Cleaver with dirt on his rolled up jeans and he would pull things out of his jeans pockets and once it was a small frog. WHAT? He waited until class to show everyone. The teacher, Mr. Simon was not happy about this one bit. Ah, back in the oh so innocent days.

I remember telling my mom about dirty Chuck and she said that she was sure he wasn't dirty. 
I kept insisting that he needed a bath. I find that quite funny today that I was so worried about his hygiene and clothing at age 7. Not much has changed it seems.

Heather was another girl in my speech class and she couldn't say her S's and the TH sound. 
She also had a pet monkey and that was all I cared about. I know I've written about that monkey here before. I was obsessed with her monkey. I remember telling my mom this and her only comment was, "How filthy and smelly that must be at their house?"  I couldn't comprehend that being a lover of monkeys, gorilla's and the like, this was beyond thrilling to me.  I even invited myself to her house once. She said sure but my mom didn't take me. I just wanted to play with the monkey darn it.

There was another little girl who was so shy and quiet. She barely spoke except to repeat our lessons out loud and to practice the sound of the letter or letters you struggled with. She usually just looked at the floor when she spoke and I do recall Mr. Simon telling her to hold her head up a great deal of the time.  She and I were both stuttered as well as having a problem with R's and S's. (She was an S person, not an R) She stuttered a great deal and looking back I am sure that was why she appeared so shy.  I, on the other hand, did not stutter consistently. I was more the type that the faster I spoke, the more it occurred. And sometimes it happened for no apparent reason. Oh and it still does with a few drinks. But most often if I had a few too many, the R's slip as well, and by God Rick will point it out. He finds it funny and cute. A grown woman saying Wabbit is not cute or funny.

Because I had to say my R sounds for 30 minutes a night and my parents had to sign a paper stating I did indeed hurt their eardrums with my Rrrrrr'ing there were times when I got off with only 15 minutes. My sister reminded me of the time that my mom was washing the dishes and my sister was at the kitchen table coloring. I was drying the dishes. My mom said, "Peg why don't you finish up your R's while you are practicing your scales on the piano?"  Now as an adult, I realize she just couldn't take it anymore so go in the damn living room and make that noise in there.

I went into the living room where my father was reading his paper and I began to practice my lessons and my scales while Rrr, err, rrr'ing.  After what seemed like a few minutes, my father came over the piano saying nothing and slowily put the cover down over the keys and told me to go practice my R's in my room. I was being shooed away again because no one wanted to listen to this.

I went to my room crying and my little sister came in and said, "If you want me to I will listen to you Rrr'ing Peggy."  And God love her she sat on the bed and I timed myself for 15 minutes and did my annoying sounds and she sat and listened.  

Apparently while telling her new boyfriend this he laughed hysterically. She said that he asked, "what were you thinking just listening to her roar like that?" Pam answered that she doesn't remember it being annoying she was just listening and coloring and it made me stop crying. 

I think honestly that was one of the few times she was nice to me.
I'm glad she reminded me and we got to have a good laugh this week. 
I've had a stressful couple of months and it was so needed.
Nice to find the comfort from someone you'd never expect to receive it from.