Mac 'N Cheese

Well, slap my ass and call me Sally.

I (we) NEVER knew that mac'n cheese was a Thanksgiving staple in the south. How did we miss this last year? Oh yeah, I was in a chemo fog.

Well apparently here in the south macaroni and cheese is a staple equal to the turkey. From what I am seeing on local TV, it is even more important than the turkey!  I mentioned this to my niece who lives in Flordia right now.

She laughed and said, "I know! and in the black community it is imperative that it be on the table and must be made properly" (she is bi-racial)   

Whatever properly means.  I think it means like a casserole and solid vs creamy runny. But what does this white yankee know?

I said to her that they are probably just as confused about our lasagna on the table then. She laughed and said I get the best of both worlds, my inlaws are southern and I get macaroni and cheese and my family has lasagna.

I learned something new that wasn't bad news, that's a win for a change.

I had all this time off from driving Rick places so I was damn determined to get the front done.  I spent over an hour and a half weeding. Then I began the process of the 20 bags of mulch which were not enough I need at least another 10 bags.  I got the weeding done on day 1 and then begun the mulching immediately afterward. I got 1/2 of it done and had to quit.  

I forget that I am this age. I could always do all of this with no issue whatsoever. What's 3-4 hours of outdoor work? Nothing when I was 50. 

I'd do it all shower and then have a cocktail and start dinner. Boy, what a difference a decade makes.

I left the piles of weeds and debris and called it quits. My entire body was barking - loudly. My hands and ass hurt. Which I found funny.

 I came inside and said I'll have to finish up on Sunday. I went into the bathroom to shower and use the toilet. I began to sit down to pee and thought I was going to die. OMG what pain in my inner thighs and ass.

'Oh hell no,' was what went through my mind. 

After my shower I swore I felt worse. My calves are the only thing that don't hurt.  I hurt from my neck to the back of my knees. To squat to get down to the toilet was so damn painful. I laughed each time because c'mon it's funny. My hands hurt from pulling the weeds up from the roots. I couldn't find that damn tool I wanted to use, so I just used my hand. My neck hurt, my abs, but mostly my ass and the back of my thighs and inside thighs. 

I should be too embarrassed to even tell you this. But I am a hot mess.

Sunday I could not walk, bend or generally move without yelping. I went to put our breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and asked Rick to bend for me.

He was laughing at me. 

I went outside and cleaned up my piles and that meant bending again. 

Oh for the love of God! 

The idea of picking those big mulch bags up and carrying them to the other side made me wince. They are so heavy and hurt my lower back each time I'd pick one up but I did all but 6 of them and I wasn't thrilled with picking up those bags. I want skills like Samantha on Bewitched!

After clean up I came inside, made a cup of coffee and stood up to drink it. Sitting is painful, well not the sitting, the getting down to sit. Rick told me to take the day off and I didn't need much convincing. I felt guilty but then I'd have to get up off my seat and I didn't have guilt anymore.

Here it is Monday and I know I must go tackle this but I don't wanna.

Yes, I typed and said this as a whine because this old coot is whining.

The man who mows and trims our lawn said he'd do it but the multch was going to cost me $300-350 then of course labor. I thought that was bullshit. I got 20 bags for $80. I will get another 10 for $40. So that's $120 for mulch. The issues is my labor. OMG if I bend over outside I fear I am never getting up. I can't only imagine what his cost for labor would have been.

We have a ring doorbell and ring cameras on the side of our house. 

At some point Rick looked at the camera and saw me laying flat on my back on the grass and not moving with my eyes closed. He thought something had happened to me. He ran (well he shuffled) to the door and yelled out to me if I was okay. I put a thumbs up.

He began to come down the steps. So to avoid him doing this I sat up and said, I am just resting babe, it was killing my backside to be squatting and to be bent over and on my knees. He said okay I was worried, then added a smart ass comment about me on my knees. Good lord this man even as stroke boy can make everything a sexual innuendo. 

I walked by my office and thought I'd write a blog post so I can avoid dealing with what is ahead of me. I just don't wanna, but I gotta.

In 3 months I will be another year older. It's not going to get any easier.

I joined the Y and my membership begins in December. That's one week that I have to get better so I can go get sore again. Please don't make me do squats or sit ups or anything that makes me bend in the mean time.

I've avoided it long enough. I'm heading out.

Wish me luck.   If I don't come back call the medics.