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 that she needed to again 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.  




Friday, January 29, 2016

Not quite back yet.

I am buried under the following:
1. snow
2. medical tests
3. chauffeuring.
4. walking until my hips hurt finding a place for my dog ,the diva, to poop already!!

I'll be back to regular programming when I can.
In the mean time here is a ditty to assist in your girl scout cookie selection.  

I do agree with the first one, my favorite cookie, and a dry red wine. I'm not gonna argue.  So go find yours!
You're welcome!

Monday, January 25, 2016

It's official. I'm moving south.



Day 1 Friday - plow went through over that mound of snow you see. Last time we've seen a damn plow. They stayed 10 ft from my curb. Idiots. So only 1 car at a time can go through.This is from my front door.

 This is my car below. 

 2nd day - my handy work - side of home. I did the snowblowing for the block every 3 hrs.
 It doesn't look too bad here - sure doesn't look as deep as it is.
 my driveway
 my alley where my garage and driveway are - this was day 1 of snow
This is so you can see how far from the curb they plowed. Poor guy who's car is parked out front. He may never get out.

 I opened the back door from the garage because from my kitchen the door would not open. I climbed through the snow and it was up to my chest. It flipped me out and I have to admit I was scared. My neighbor was shoveling his side and asked if I was stuck. I was indeed stuck up to my chest. So he ran over and took over for me. He's 6'5 and he had an easier time. He's been terrific. He's only 40, helping a couple of old farts next door. 

 This is just another pass I made around the side of my block. 
Now if just a snow plow would show up. When you have over 30 inches of snow and no snow plows you are house bound. The snow today is ice hard so shoveling is difficult. The snow blower wouldn't even go through this icy snow.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

Brrr......

If you watch TV you know that the DC area is in for 2 ft of snow.
If you read me often you know that the threat of snow makes these people panic.
It's cold today so schools are closed.  Yesterday it was cold and there was a 2 hr delay.
Snow will begin Friday night or late afternoon. As of now, there is no snow. It's sunny and cold. No snow, nothing except panic in the streets.

They had a press conference this morning to announce this snow "emergency"
I know everyone in Canada, the northeast, the midwest are laughing their asses off.
This will cause schools to be closed for at least a week. Rochester, do you hear this nonsense? 

Unfortunately for me, I have to take Rick to get an MRI at 3:30 Friday. That is when this should all start. We know that I can drive in snow and wind and rain and the sun. So we are not the issue. The panic in the streets here is the issue. They don't know how to plow or salt. You'd think this was a surprise.
They have winter every year, learn.

The orthopedic doctor believes Rick has a torn rotator cuff. He had a cortisone shot in his knee on Monday. He still can't bend it without a lot of pain. HIs heart issue is being addressed early Friday morning. This is my main concern. Can he even have the surgery for his arm/shoulder?

So do you think I'm having a fun week?  Better than Rick that is for sure.
He can't work. He can't sleep. He can't drive.  He sleeps in a recliner.
He turned 60 and fell apart. 

Back in the old blog posts when I wrote about my rotator cuff surgery I told you how difficult it was to get dressed or shower. I begged him to help me put on a bra to go to physical therapy. I couldn't have those girls flopping about.  No, I needed my bra on.  He tried, oh how he struggled. I kept saying, it's hook and eye, you know how to do this.
He said, "I know how to take them off, not put them on."  Oh, the struggle. 

I hated that he had to dress me because to him it was fun fondling time.  (don't get me started on the shower) There were a lot of giggles and struggles. When he tried to blow dry my hair he got the brush stuck and we had to cut some of my hair to get it out. When I asked for him to put some makeup on me so I could look and feel better when I went to PT, he made me look like a clown and poked me in the eye a couple of times. I had to have it removed. I wore a sling 6 inches from my body for 24/7 for 4 weeks. I couldn't use my right arm at all.  

I reminded him of all of this so that he will understand what is coming for him. I told him last night that Karma is a bitch. He nervously laughed. For both of us, it's our right arm. We are both right handed. That begins the problem. 

Last night he hobbled into the powder room and as he was closing the door I yelled what he would yell to me weeks before my surgery, "PRACTICE WITH YOUR LEFT HAND"
I heard him laugh hysterically.  It wasn't that funny. He came out and said, "Oh this is gonna be bad, I am so not left handed."  

I think the stress of everything that has befallen him has caught up to him. Last night he was laughing about a lot of this ordeal. It could also be the Percocets that he's been on for a few days now.  

I feel badly for him.  He is so macho and this has really brought him down. He thinks that he is the one to do all the heavy lifting so to speak. He doesn't like being helpless and this is as difficult for him as the pain. He is worried about the work, the blizzard and me doing everything. He watched me struggle with something yesterday and he was telling me not to do it. I told him I was fine.  I accomplished it.  I surprised myself too.  I have been working longer hours, doing it all and honestly we've always been a 50-50 family. But it's my turn and we'll get through this. Doesn't mean I don't have my meltdown moments. I surely have.
But there is always another glass of wine.....
I feel like the pilot in the movie Airplane, "This is a bad time to stop the drugs. wine!"

And if all this wasn't enough, my thyroid meds hit a wall. I was feeling off. I was feeling that thickness I get in my throat and I thought, well maybe I'm just over exhausted. The following morning I awoke to being so swollen it looked like someone put a bike tire pump on my toe and pumped away. My face was now round, not oval, my hands were so swollen I couldn't make a fist nor could you see  my knuckles and this goes through my whole body so nothing fit.  YIPEE.

My doctor changed my meds.  We'll see. It normally takes 2weeks sometimes more for them to do their job.

When it rains it pours they say. I am looking forward to a drought very soon.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Oh So True.




My favorite from my Grandmother who would lay out all this food without asking me and I'd say, "Gram, I'm not hungry."  Her response?  "Oh honey, then just eat a sandwich."

Winter has Arrived.

It is very cold here. "They" are talking 2 ft of snow by this weekend.
Good thing I got a snow blower huh?

Of course all this means that the wussies around here have schools on a 2 hr delay?
Why? Will it warmer in 2 hrs? I think not.  A woman said it gives the bus drivers time to warm up their buses for the kiddies. Oh please. Teachers and admins just like having a 2 hr delay, because it truly does nothing for the weather or warmth. I think they believe they are fooling us. Not working.

One woman on TV was saying it was difficult for her kid to stand at the bus stop in this cold.
There he was, the horses ass, in shorts. Gee maybe if you made him put on his big boy pants he'd be just fine. A coat over that sweatshirt might be a good idea too. It's called winter, we get it each and every damn year.
Honestly, people are just damn stupid and crazy!

In other news....
Rick had a cortizone shot in his knee yesterday. Yep, the medical nightmare we call Rick is still happening. He can't even bend his leg to get in the car. But as I always say he makes things worse for everyone around him. Even the dr. noticed this yesterday and made a joke about this at his expense. I high fived the doctor. Honestly, I would rather have his pain for him than deal with him in pain. He would kill himself if he were a woman. One cramp and he'd be down for the count.

I will leave you with one of my all time favorite bands. I was shocked to hear Glenn Fry had passed away. He was so young.

Friday, January 15, 2016

Dogs Welcome

I saw this on my friend Bruce's FB page at a hotel he was checking into.
(yes, the man I wrote about yesterday)

I think it's pretty spot on don't you?  I know Izzy sure liked it. 


Thursday, January 14, 2016

Adele

My all time favorite boss was named Bruce. He was a delight to work for in every way.
He was transferred from Hong Kong to Manhattan via the UK. 
Bruce is from Ireland and living back in the Belfast area today. 

But back when I was working in NYC I was sitting in his office and we were discussing an issue with a client. Bruce said in a casual way a woman I worked with had died. 
Or so I thought that was what he said. 
I heard " Fong died"  
I screeched, "She died? When did she die? I just spoke with her yesterday? Oh My God"
He said, "Who died?"  
This began an exchange like Abbott and Costello, "Who's on First" routine.
I learned very quickly from this point on that I had a difficulty with his beautiful accent. 
Oh, how we laughed about this later, even after we told Fong this story. Thankfully no one was dead but today, years later neither of us remember what he was telling me about her to begin with.

I used to tell Bruce that I needed subtitles under him while he spoke. 
After several years of working in the U.S. and living in NJ for 2 yrs, he was easier to understand or he was losing the accent. Not sure which it was.
When he wanted to show you his American accent he would say, "How you doin'?"  Like someone from the show The Soprano's. That would make us all laugh and tell him that he's been living in NJ too long because that is not an American accent. 
video.

This all came back to me the other night when I saw this show below.  I seriously couldn't understand most of what Adele was saying. Thankfully I put on my closed captions on my TV so I could understand their conversation. 
I do wonder though why don't people have an accent when they sing?