2024/09/11
2024/05/18
22 & 58
It’s that time of year again! I’m commemorating the years I’ve been blogging while also celebrating my years on this planet.
These are not insignificant numbers. 22: how many people do you know who are still involved with something they started on a whim over twenty years ago? 58: there are people who predicted I’d never see this age. My, but I bet they’re surprised! Well, not all of them are still living. Hey, I had absolutely NOTHING TO DO WITH THEIR DEPARTURES!!! Life (and death) happens. No spells or curses were utter, purchased, or distributed. Not by me.
It feels a little funny to continue blogging despite no longer having a large readership. Hell, I’d be stretching to call what I have a small readership. Micro. I have a micro readership. And that’s all thanks to Pam. Love you, girlfriend! The thing is, I stopped writing for anyone else years ago. I write for me. If I bother to write, that is. This is just one of the places I call home. (Ah, yes. The pretense of having multiple homes. It’s my fantasy, I can have as many homes as I like. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
So, here I am. Pretty much writing to myself and one or two others. I’m surprisingly okay with it. It’s a far cry from where I was twenty years ago, but things change. Funny how age can either drive you nuts or make you contented. Sometimes all in the same hour. That’s just life.
The truth is, I really like my life right now. I like where I am. I like where I live. I like who I live with (GmaB is truly an amazing lady who exudes goodness and love). I like who I am here. I like all the things I do. I’m taking care of someone. I’m in a home that was built with lots of love. If it weren’t for the major heat in the summer, it would be perfect. Actually, it is perfect. I don’t have to go outside in the heat except to take out the trash. There’s good air conditioning. See? I can’t even complain about the weather. Who am I anymore?
Having found this new wonderful state of mind, I feel like an idiot for not finding it sooner. It was always there for the taking. I just couldn’t see it. Now, I do.
And with that, I’ll bid you adieu for now and go have a birthday donut. Raspberry filled.
Here’s to whatever adventures come next!
2024/03/30
And the Rest of the Story
To revisit the tale of my head injury, well, why not?
On that fateful early February morn, I was feeding the bison an apple. It wasn’t the bison I normally feed as he was in a different corral. No, this was a younger male who was taking his role as a novice — and temporary — alpha male quite seriously. Not in an aggressive manner, just in a “I’m going to eat everything you offer before anyone else and you’ll have to throw the food on the ground for them while I’ll eat from your hand” kinda way. Had the actual alpha bull been around, this is what he’d have done.
There I was, feeding Dos (my nickname for this young bull) an apple. He knocked it from my hand, so I bent down to retrieve it. He ate from my hand again and promptly knocked it out once more. I retrieved it. Again. Then a third time. As I bent down to get it (on my side of the fence, mind you), apparently, he felt challenged and struck out at me. My mistake was bending forward in front of him at the part of the fence that was merely steel cable instead of the steel bars.
His head smashed into me (OMG! Holy fuck, it hurt!) and I was slammed onto my back. His horn had ripped into my scalp, which I realized almost immediately because I felt the warm gush of blood pouring down my head. I used my least muddy hand to try to stanch the flow. I also had to find my glasses. Surprisingly, I hadn’t lost consciousness nor had my glasses been broken. I saw the apple next to me, flipped it into the corral, and told Dos he was fine. He snorted in agreement.
I was able to stand without wobbling or falling over (maybe I wobbled a bit, hard to recall every little detail). Yay! I was able to bend down and retrieve my glasses without falling. Yay! Walking back to the house, all I could think was I needed to find someone to stay with GmaB that night. I called her son and told him this. After explaining what happened and saying I was going to call 911, he told me to hold off calling them and he’d be right over. I asked him to bring a clean towel.
Blood was pouring through my fingers, down my face, down the back of my head, everywhere. I went to the dining room window and knocked on it to get the attention of the caregiver who was on duty. Her absolute surprise was evident the very second she saw me. I asked her to grab my towel from the bathroom. Once my head was wrapped, I attempted to wash my free hand. She helped. GmaB’s son arrived, agreed I needed the hospital, and helped me into his vehicle.
At this point, I had no idea if my skull was split open or what, but the pain was beginning to really hit. Funny how shock delays the worst of it. I made stupid jokes to try to keep from crying because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop if I started.
We weren’t at the hospital hospital. The hospital runs like an urgent care center that’s also kind of like a hospital emergency room. I can’t explain it better than that. Anyhow, once there, I had quite a few people checking on me. I think they were shocked I was walking and talking and joking around. Believe me when I say I was doing my best to keep the tears in check. Panic was just below the surface. Only just. At some point, my wound was slightly cleaned, a pressure dressing applied, and I was sent for a CT scan. Once it was determined I didn’t have any skull fractures, the next step was determining if I required a trauma surgeon to take care of the cleaning, suturing, and whatever else was needed. The answer: yes. This meant I had to have at least one IV and an ambulance. One nurse came in with a young woman who was obviously a student and I told her her she was going to do just fine, there was no way she was going to cause me more pain than I was already experiencing, and even if she wasn’t able to get the IV started, any practice is good practice. The relief on her face was priceless! She initially got the IV, but the vein (my very bestestest vein!) collapsed, rendering that access point useless. The RN tried and couldn’t get it. Another RN came to try. He had some luck, but then that vein collapsed. One of the paramedics finally got it and we were off.
At the *actual* hospital, I waited and waited and waited, then asked for assistance to the bathroom because I was ready to burst. Once back from the loo, everyone was ready for me. Things went quickly from that point on. I was taken to surgery, got one of the nurses to take a couple photos of my head before, during, and after surgery, and I woke up with an adult-sized bang-a-roo* of a headache. The meds from surgery wore off far too quickly and I…
Something Something Something…blah blah blah. I had more of the story written here, but in a fog of exhaustion, I erased it. I don’t recall what I was writing, either.
Needless to say, I survived the entire ordeal. My scar is large, my hair is short, and I’m impatiently awaiting hair to return to its former glory.
* I miss you, Robert Urich.
All this to say, “I didn’t die. Yay.”
2023/12/25
Merry Christmas!
Every year, this is how I celebrate Christmas.
Merry Christmas, friends! May you always remember the best moments of life and love today.
2023/12/24
White Wine in the Sun
One of my favorite songs for this time of year.
2023/10/22
Epenthesis & Anaptyxis
Epenthesis and Anaptyxis walked into a bar and confused the hell out of everyone.
This week’s new words are wonderful. Simply wonderful. Or should I say they’re “wonderaful”?
Epenthesis (eh-penth-e-sis) is the adding of a vowel or sound to a word in order to facilitate pronunciation. Like “es-top” or “stop-e(h)”. Or “bu-lue”.
More spectacularly, the addition of the vowel in epenthesis has a specific name: (you guessed it!) anaptyxis (an-app-tu-sis). Think of Yogi Bear telling BooBoo he’s going to get that “pic-a-nic” basket. That’s epenthesis and anaptyxis in action.
What’s even more fun is when Epenthesis and Anaptyxis are out drinking and they run into and are mesmerized by Paragoge. Paragoge also goes by the name Proparalepsis. (Can you tell I love this stuff?)
Paragoge/Proparalepsis “refers to the annexing of an expletive syllable”. In some cases, you can think of it as a nickname for words and, (ed: er…um…) names. Like “Johnny, for John;” “deary, for dear;” “withouten, for without.” (ed: Or my personal favorite “broughten, for brought.”)
When someone asks me “what kind of weirdo are you?” I’m the kind of weirdo who loves this shit. And that’s the honest to God truth. I’m also just a huge ol’ word nerd.
Stay tuned for more words I’ve encountered which have charmed and enchanted me. I have a list. Yeah, an actual list.
Feel free to share words of your own in the comments section.
2023/10/16
A First Time for Everything: The Night I Lost My Virginity (to Craig Ferguson)
I did it! Finally!
I lost my virginity.
Silly thing for a mom of two to write, but hear me out.
Craig Ferguson took my virginity. True. Fucking. Story.
October 7, 2023, is a day that will live in infamy for it was the day I finally got to go see Craig Ferguson on tour with his stand-up act. Not only that, but I met him, got a hug, he touched one of my tattoos (neener neener, wouldn’t you like to know which one!), and…and…and…it was all perfection. Mostly.
Yes, I’d been to tapings of his show many times over his ten year run as host of The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Yes, I’d been mere feet away from him. Yes, I laughed myself silly. But I hadn’t seen his stand-up show before.
I’d envied those I knew who had been many, Many, MANY times. They had met him. They got their picture taken with him. They…touched…him. I was happy for those people. But I stewed in my own bitter juices of jealousy in private. I feared I’d never get my moment with THE GREATEST, FUNNIEST, AND MOST HANDSOME SCOTTISH LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOST AND COMEDIAN IN THE WORLD. But I did. It happened. And now my life is (mostly) complete. I say “(mostly) complete” because there was just one teeny weeny little problem with our conversation (okay, two teeny weeny little problems) (maybe three teeny weeny little problems, but definitely not more than three). Main problem the first: I’d forgotten to ask if he remembered a sketch from the show where a particular name was used. Why would it matter almost 20 years later? Because I was author of that name! Well, the author of half the name. And I wanted him to sign one of his books for me using that name. Big problem the second: I forgot to bring the book. Don’t look at me in that tone of voice! I know what I did and I know how stupid that was. Look, it’d already been a very long, hot day full of emotion* before I even left to make the journey out to the middle of nowhere to see him. I couldn’t possibly be expected to remember VERY IMPORTANT items I almost desperately wanted signed by THE GREATEST, FUNNIEST, AND MOST HANDSOME SCOTTISH LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOST AND COMEDIAN IN THE WORLD! It’s like you don’t know me at all, people! Have you fallen so out of love with me your blog reading that you’ve forgotten all my (very) charming (and occasionally frustrating) quirks?
Le sigh.
I’m disappointed enough in myself, I don’t need your help in that department.
Problem the third: I also forgot to ask about his kids. Oh, the stories he told about his kids! So funny! So absolutely charming! So clever! The only kids I knew who were as funny and charming and clever as his kids were mine. Truly. I wanted to know if they continued to be funny, charming, and clever…like mine. Because: parents. IYKYK, right? Right.
All said and done, it was a beautiful day punctuated with the most magical evening of laughter and absolute joy. If I ever figure out how to post photos here again, I’ll post the pic of me beside THE GREATEST, FUNNIEST, AND MOST HANDSOME SCOTTISH LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOST AND COMEDIAN IN THE WORLD. And you will once more envy my glamorous life. (Glamorous in that I had one night away from GmaB and the farm, but it still counts!)
And that’s the story of how Craig Ferguson took my virginity.
* My best friend got married and I photographed her wedding. She was completely stunning! She looked so happy! And the latter part is and was the most important part of the equation. I really want her to be happy.
2023/08/25
Dragonfly
Dragonflies have always fascinated me. They’re so dainty and delicate in appearance, but they’re tough and rid the world of pests. Dragonflies symbolize good luck, prosperity, and new beginnings. Funny that. When I got my first tattoo, I chose dragonflies and got the tattoo as I was starting divorce proceedings. I must’ve sussed the meaning before I actually learned this bit of trivia.
Today, GmaB and I watched dragonflies flit about and then, miraculously, watched as one began to lay eggs. Sadly, those eggs will come to nought as the chosen site isn’t next to water. I may have to find a way to put water just below the eggs and then relocate the nymphs once they emerge. (I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just winging it…hehee…winging it. Wing-ing. Wing. Dragonfly. And…)
I needed beauty in my life today. I’ve been feeling rather emotional the last couple days and our dragonflies brought me beauty by the bushel. Now, I must go so I can weep silently in the kitchen.
2023/08/19
The More You Know…
I know enough to know I don’t know much. Because of this, I like to learn something new as frequently aspossible– if not every day.
Today I learned a large portion of Anheuser-Busch beers are partially made with rice. I mean, what?!? So, I did a little research (because I’m like that) and found the reason for this is the fermentable sugar at lower temperatures in rice (most likely short-grain white rice). It’s less expensive than barley, too. Using rice also produces a smoother flavor with less bitterness.
And, according to the three different articles I read (I limited the number of clicks because I refused to go down the rabbit hole today), sake is beer. I always thought it was wine. How have I lived 57 years and only just found out this information? Well, of course this meant I had to look into it. Wikipedia claims sake is…not really either. That’s backed up by sake-specific sites. It’s an “alcoholic beverage” with a brewing process different from beer AND wine.
It was around this time my head exploded. Sorry, brain. One too many facts, I guess.
Now that I’ve muddled my brain, I hope you find yours also sufficiently muddled. And speaking of muddling… No, no, no! I’m not going there. I’m going to have a look at what GmaB might want for dinner.
2023/05/18
21 & 57
I’m 57 today. Fifty-fucking-seven. I know time goes to Cleveland*, so, then, can you explain how I ended up HERE?
I’ve also been blogging 21 years**. Twenty-fucking-one years. In this time I’ve had a career I loved, endured an attack on my career and my family by bloggers I had once thought of as friends, went to work at a new job, lost my career due to an on-the-job injury, lived in at least 16 different homes***, lost dear friends, gained a significant amount of weight, almost lost my sister TWICE, almost died myself when I developed sepsis, lost both parents, was diagnosed with diabetes, had a complete emotional breakdown, lost a not-so-insignificant amount of weight, developed a cataract that’s essentially blinded me in one eye, and I’m still fucking here.
During this time, I’ve also been privileged to watch my children become lovely adults. I’ve formed some truly beautiful friendships with people who are more like family. I’ve had amazing experiences. I’ve met legends. I’ve achieved some of my loftiest goals. I’ve lived, I’ve laughed, and, yes, I’ve even eaten, prayed, and loved.
Are there things I wished were different? Hell, yes! At the same time, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on what came next. You, know, the whole rainbow after the rain thing.
I believe we experience the worst of times to understand and appreciate the best of times. The roller coaster is only fun because of the ups and downs. Otherwise, it’s just a trolley ride across a flat town.
For those of you who are still around and commenting (Pam) or just blurking, thank you. I’m truly grateful. For those who have turned away, I wish you well (or, in one instance, have wished you hell [or at the very least, karmic comeuppance]). Mostly, I wish for the good stuff. Mostly. And that’s what I spend my time praying for. I can’t help myself; I’m a kind of a marshmallow deep down.
Here’s to another trip around the sun!
* ME: Where does the time go? LD: Cleveland.
** As of May 16.
*** It may be more, but I’m too exhausted by the thought of all that moving to list each place on paper and properly get the actual total.
2023/04/16
Christos Anesti!
Christos Anesti ek nekron, thanato thanaton patisas, kai tis en tis mnimasi zoin harisamenos.
Translated:
Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and to those in the tombs, granting life.
Kali Pascha, from my family to yours.
2022/07/04
Independence Day 2022
We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.
~ William Faulkner
May your 4th of July be safe and happy! And may you recall what this day is truly about.
Freedom is a hard-won reward. We can’t take it for granted or we may lose it. So, please, take a moment today and consider how special this great nation of ours is — we have fought for our right to disagree and speak our minds, as well as the right to take a day off and celebrate all manner of our liberties.
P.S. in a weird bit of…??? (I don’t even know what word I’d use here?) coincidence (perhaps?), I was setting up this post and wanted a photo to go along with it. I dig into my archives only to find I’d written this particular post before, word for word. Go figure. Oh well, at least my song was an original choi… (Record scratch. Loooooong, uncomfortable silence. [C’mon, really?]) Same exact song. Same. exact. video.
*facepalm*
Oh well. It’s a classic.
Independence Day has been a federal holiday in the United States since 1941, but the tradition of Independence Day celebrations goes back to the 18th century and the American Revolution. On July 2nd, 1776, the Continental Congress voted in favor of independence, and two days later delegates from the 13 colonies adopted the Declaration of Independence, a historic document drafted by Thomas Jefferson. From 1776 to the present day, July 4th has been celebrated as the birth of American independence.
Stay safe, my peeps!
[Ed. Note: please forgive any and all typos or incoherent passages. I haven’t slept for over 24 hours and I’m not feeling well at all.]
2022/06/15
Busy Busy Busy!
I’m so exhausted from doctor appointments and packing that I’ve completely forgotten to post music and other updates.
My study is officially over here in Lubbock, but the docs have found me another study close to where I’m moving! (Note: call sis with update tomorrow before it gets late!!!)
There are a few lingering issues that are concerning enough for the docs to want me to continue on with various therapies. Since their study only deals with a specific period of time following the initial Covid infection and the early stages of long Covid, it was imperative they find something to continue monitoring and testing me for the next (minimum of) 90 days.
I wasn’t sure if I was really going to make the move to Phoenix, but the timing of the the study availability, location, and a freakily timed call from my friend means that everything is happening. Very. Quickly.
I leave Friday.
I’m almost done with all the packing. I better be! I have to ship boxes tomorrow afternoon. I’m checking one suitcase and taking one carry-on, plus my purse. It’s not exactly inexpensive, but needs must. It would cost more to pay for extra baggage than to just ship the stuff, so that’s what I’m doing.
I’m both excited and a bit terrified. I’m excited to see my dear JK again, to meet her man, and to finally meet her girls! There are also a bunch of animals, including a huge tortoise, an emu (squee! I love emus), a snake, and two hedgehogs. There are many more, but those are my top four.
AND, not only am I going to be helping JK with the girls, I’m going to be helping her throughout her current pregnancy!
I was so sad I’d missed out on her pregnancies with the girls. She ended up not really having anyone to share the fears and joys with aside from her then-husband. She didn’t have a girlfriend to talk about things with her. Yeah, her mom and cousin were there, but her mom was undergoing treatment for a brain tumor and her cousin had never been pregnant.
But now…now we get to do this together. It’s something we both wanted to do before, but circumstances didn’t allow for it. Now we get to.
I don’t anticipate staying with her and her family permanently. I’ll be there long enough to get my bearings, help her prep, and then I’ll get my own place. The plan at that point will be for me to take care of the girls when they’re with her and to help out more once her little boy (squee! Again!) arrives. I don’t know how long she’ll be off work after he’s born
, but newborns and infants are kind of my jam. Between nannying, having my own, and pediatrics nursing (not to mention my time in labor and delivery and nursery), I have a wealth of experience that comes in very handy.
Anyhow, that’s what’s happening here and why I’ve been neglecting updates.
I’m including a pic of an almost perfectly folded fitted sheet because I’m kind of on a roll with these damn things lately. Sadly, this isn’t perfect, but it’s close enough for me to call it a win. I’m so tired, my hands are floppy and numb. Close. Enough.
Please excuse the quality
, my lack of editing, and my shoes making what just may be their last ever appearance in a photo of any sort. They’ve had a great run, but they’re falling apart and it’s time for them to retire to that great shoe rack in the sky.
With that, I’m out for now. I’ll update when I’m able.
TTFN & LYL!
2022/05/28
Depression
Dr. Julie is a psychologist who posts on the YouTubes. Her insights are simply fantastic.
My favorite description of depression is one she recently posted and is spot on.
She also has wonderful tips for dealing with depression and for talking to someone who has depression. I highly recommend digging through her videos and giving her a follow.
Not only does Dr. Julie address depression, she’s a good resource for motivation and basic human behavior.
2022/05/18
Fifty-Six
I am in utter disbelief that I’m now 56 years old.
There are days when it seems nigh impossible for that to be accurate. It was only yesterday when I was sliding down into the canyon (now just more houses, natch) to go make a fort with Michelle, Kecia, and/or Laurie.
We had the perfect place for our fort: on the bank of a hill, behind a huge bush/tree. Scrub bushes grew big in the canyon. This one had branches that gracefully arched overhead. Any that didn’t were summarily removed. Big boxes were broken down, used to slide down the hill a few hundred times before becoming the base of the fort. If we could manage to sneak a blanket out of the house, it would most definitely find itself an integral part of our refuge. Pads of paper, pencils, pens, crayons, and various cast off toys enjoyed a cushy life at the hideaway, too.
We never needed to phone one another to set a meeting time. Each of us ran through our Saturday chores (or homework if was a school day), made ourselves some sandwiches, and then hightailed it to the fort. If you got there first, you were responsible for making sure there were no spiders or rattlesnakes around. Stomping and waving cardboard about, nothing could sleep through the racket, and most definitely nothing stuck around! We once chased a javelina family from our sanctuary, but that’s about as exotic as our visitors got. Garter snakes, lizards, and tarantulas were common and became favored captives for short periods of time. None of us wanted to remove them from their homes or families for too long. Mostly, we just enjoyed their company before we released them back into the wild. We played Marlin Perkins and his trusty assistant, Jim. Or we took turns being Joan Embery visiting with Merv Griffin or Mike Douglas and presenting our latest finds to the host. (One guess who got to be Joan Embery most often.)
While we loved the canyon and the freedom we experienced there away from the prying eyes (and the beckoning calls to come home) of our parents, our days there were numbered. The same is true of childhood. However, the loss of our fort was due to discovering a real live adult human being we didn’t know taking up residence in our spot.
For once, Michelle and I met up at the corner across from my house before we made our way down the hill and over the uneven terrain to the fort. We talked loudly and stomped our feet in our normal “dangerous-animal-be-gone” manner. Unfortunately, it didn’t scare away the man we found. In fact, I think it’s safe to say it merely served as an alert for him to strip down and begin masturbating, because that’s exactly what we found upon arrival. We both yelled at him and began kicking dirt in his face, throwing wood and rocks and whatever else we could find. When he failed to stop touching himself, we left in disgust. We never returned to that spot again. Instead, we explored further afield and always with a buddy. It was just safer that way.
About a year later, the big machinery arrived and curtailed our adventures further. We just got a little more creative with the how and what of our play. On weekends, when the site was abandoned, we scrambled up and down the diggers and dozers and other vehicles. We yelled and ran through the giant concrete pipes that would someday serve the expanding neighborhood. We also caused minor mischief by hiding loose materials whenever we could. We didn’t go too crazy with it because we knew that anything major would only bring in security guards. We knew this because Michelle’s brother and his friends had caused that very thing to happen at another site.
In the end, the timing couldn’t have been more apt. We were nearing the age of more “serious” pursuits as we went from preteens into full-blown adolescence. And while we would occasionally make our way down to the canyon, it was less about play and more about sneaking cigarettes and maybe increasing the quality (and quantity) of our creative obscenities. No prying ears or eyes to limit our newfound endeavors.
I’m not entirely sure how this turned into a major nostalgia-fest, but I suppose it beats the other direction I could have gone. I was going to mention all the heartbreak of the past year and all the ways life has changed in that time. I’m actually very glad for the “remember whenning” about my childhood as it feels more relatable and somehow more comforting — and definitely healthier — to reflect in that manner.
So, here’s a great big “I’m so glad I’m still here at 56” shout declaration from my tiny corner of the internet. I hope I can do this again next year.
TTFN!