Monthly Archives: March 2016
These days it is difficult to get anything done. Not only am I exhausted all the time, but I have extremely limited use of my left hand.
Yes, surgery looms in my future. Not sure how they will do it. When they will do it. Or even if they will do it.
Even though I am right-handed, I am finding out how much I use my left hand.
I imagine when I have surgery, I’ll find out even more.
Expect to get the answering machine.
I refuse to answer the phone when I am cooking dinner or when I am eating dinner.
Heck if I don’t recognize your number or ID on the TV screen when you call, expect to leave a message on my machine and IF I am not eating dinner, fixing dinner, or cleaning up after dinner I might even pick up before you finish your message.
With the political calls and all the sales crap (even though we are on a do not call list they still call) I seldom answer the phone these days.
I am also one of those people who doesn’t own a cell phone. I do NOT want to be connected 24/7.
If it is important, leave a message on my answering machine, and I’ll get back to you.
I just spent a half an hour putting together a month’s worth of pills for The Curmudgeon. He takes a lot of pills.
Yes, the pill system I bought actually holds all his pills for a month. It is working very well for him.
I hate having to fill it, but I love having to only do it once a month.
If you need one, or have a family member who could use this system, you can find it on Amazon. We also have the pill reminder alarm clock that you can buy with it.
MedCenter 31 Day Pill Organizer
I swear I live in a permanent fog these days. I drag along, forget what I’m doing, fall asleep at my desk, and can’t remember things from one minute to the next.
Gallons of coffee have no affect.
I think it is catching too because Lucy will doze off almost immediately when I sit down with her on the couch.
Maybe once the weather gets warm enough to be outside…oh yeah… but then there’s the idiot neighbor who is a real pain in the ass with his loud music and rotten attitude who makes my yard, what used to be my sanctuary, just another place for annoyance.
I want real peace and some actual restful rest.
Every single time I lie down for a bit of a nap, The Curmudgeon gets talkative, or one of the dogs gets whiny.
I’ve been fighting with Lucy over her eating things in the yard. Last night I picked the weed she seems to be going after all the time, brought the sample inside, and got on the computer.
I found a match, it is purple dead nettle and it is actually good for you.
It turns out that those purple, fuzzy looking weeds with square stems is Lamium purpureum, a plant in the mint family known as purple dead nettle. Many people harvest and eat it.
Eat it? The little pink flowers taste sweet. The rest of the plant is high in a number of nutrients including those cancer-busting compounds, antioxidants.
Looks like our little dog is no fool.
It is definitely spring here.
My flyer from Countryside Farm and Greenhouse arrived. Time to mark it up and make my lists, flower and veggies. Also time to gather together all of the friends who want to go and make an afternoon of it.
I’m sure we could find a nice place to luncheon.
Our magnolia tree is in full bloom as are our daffodils.
Miss Lucy is proof of that. She waltzed into the vet’s office like she owned the joint. Unlike Gavin who you have to drag in the door.
In minutes, she had the office staff giving her treats and scratches. Unlike Gavin who would’ve been hiding under the seats in the waiting room.
Because of an emergency, we did have a long wait in our room, but she stretched out on her side and dozed off. Unlike Gavin who would’ve totally stressed out to the point of us having to leave to come back at a later date.
On the floor with the vet techs, Lucy barely noticed the needle stick and the blood removal. Gavin would have to be muzzled and he’d be in panic mode.
An examination by the vet had her climbing on Dr. Ashley, snuggling in, wagging her tail, and giving kisses. Gavin would be looking for a place to hide and trying get as far away from Dr. Ashley as possible.
Two shots given unnoticed and she was still all wags and kisses. Where Gavin would act like a baby and be ready to go home NOW.
Lucy got a bath yesterday morning so she’ll smell nice and look pretty when she goes to the vet this afternoon .
I climbed into the shower with a very indignant dog. Miffed she was, because we’d fooled her into going upstairs, thinking a bed bounce lay in her future.
Instead she got a bath.
She stood facing a corner, head down, shoulders hunched as if she were getting a beating. Her eyes closed tight. Tailed tucked as tight as could be.
However once the washing and rinsing stopped, and the toweling began, she became a whirling dervish, a loony toon, a complete nut ball.
I sent her downstairs to The Curmudgeon while I cleaned the shower and picked up wet towels. I could hear her bouncing off the back of couch several times as she hucklebutted all over downstairs.
Bath days around this house are a real riot and the reason I can only do one dog a day.
I am so sick of seeing articles on how important it is to ‘get away’ when you are a caregiver.
Really? Get away?
I’m lucky if I can make a grocery store run and get out to lunch once in a while and my husband doesn’t have dementia or some of the other things that are worse. He has secondary progressive MS.
“Take a break” they say.
How exactly would I do that? There’s no one around willing to take my dogs out and sit with The Curmudgeon on a daily basis so I could take a few days away. IF I could afford a few days away. We don’t have money growing on trees around here.
It’s one SS disability income for both of us.
“Hire someone to come in” they say.
Again I say who? And with what? Money trees are a rare thing. People to do what I do around here are non-existent.
“Have a relative stay with them” they say.
He doesn’t have any. Mine relatives are all far, far away and none are willing.
In reality, getting away, not burning out, and “being mindful” are far from possible for average people.
Ah yes “being mindful” I barely have a minute to sit without having to immediately pop up again, so screw your being mindful crap.
I find that I’ve changed a lot over the past few years.
Not for the good either.
I don’t know that person who looks back at me from the mirror each day.
There’s a bitterness in her heart.
There’s a deep sorrow in her eyes.
Her mouth is tight-lipped and seldom smiles.
Her heart is heavy and never light as in the past.
She looks tired, used up.
No, I don’t know her.
The Vet put Gavin on Dasuquin and the still bouncy 14-year-old has become even more bouncy. I do believe he is feeling better.
He seriously worries me when he goes bounding into the kitchen. It’s far too easy for him to slip on the tile and hurt himself.
Nothing is going to stop him though even though it is midnight. He bounds from rug to rug in the living room and eggs Lucy on like crazy. He gets her bouncing her crate like a maniac and then he decides he’s ready to go into his to sleep. “My work here is done.”
When I do let them play together earlier in the daytime it’s even crazier.
Never a dull moment around here.
Little does Lucy know it but she’s in for a spa day this coming week.
She has a vet appointment on the 24th so we think a bath is in order. No sense in taking a stinky girl in for her check up when she can go in smelling pretty.
She doesn’t like baths. So shh, everyone. No one tell her.