I Am Not Happy

Nope. I am not.

Right at this moment I should be at Famke's birthday party. Today she turns TWO.

My plan was to take a bunch of pictures if Famke opening up her presents. And, I wanted to eat Buster Bar dessert. THGGM made it for the party. He's a good Pake.

Instead, I am home all squinty-eyed, migraine-y and confused.

If I'm in the light my head hurts, but if I'm in the dark the neon-northern-lights of migraine show brighter and make me want to throw-up.

Whine. Whine. Whine.

I've been almost asleep for 24 hours now.

Friday my dad moved to a nursing home. Not the one my mom is at. No. I'm sure because that would have made sense, and nothing in my little painfilled life is making sense right now.

So, instead of going to the nursing home in Hudsonville, he had to stop over at one in Wayland. Far far away from here. Not that Hudsonville is actually CLOSE. But, I DO know how to get there.

Yesterday THGGM and I went on a rainy day adventure to find my dad. This is because I had planned my day on Friday around his being moved to Hudsonville. I could have made it there. But, at what seemed to me to be the last minute, there was this change.

THGGM and I found him sitting in a wheelchair in his room staring at the wall. So, I had to explain to him exactly why he wasn't where he thought he was going to be. I had to do this loudly, because there isn't anyway to get him his replacement hearing aids without his going in for an appointment.

He looked pretty good, if not a bit depressed. So, we wheeled him out of the dark room and took him around to see the sites. It's a very nice place. We found a cheerful room to sit in while we watched it rain. And rain some more. Even thunder. Just for effect, I'm sure.

They brought his lunch to him in this nice room, and he certainly did have an appetite. I thought it all smelled a bit salty, but his ticket assured me he was getting the 'no salt added' diet. He should be on an absolutely no salt at all diet, but, what are we going to do?

We stayed for awhile. He really perked up. Didn't seem to mind when we left, as he was ready to get back in bed for a nap.

THGGM was REALLY impressed with this home. I think I know where WE will be living in the future.

The drive home was rainy too. And muggy.

We weren't home long at all before I got a call from the nursing home.

Dad was having difficulty breathing. They didn't feel equipped to handle that, and had an ambulance in route to take him back to the hospital.

Apparently he does very well on the IV diuretic, but the oral kind of the same drug does not work as well.

After a night of being on the IV diuretic, he is again improving. THGGM said he sounded great this morning.

My head hurts.

So thankful that he is improving, but hoping for significant improvements that will keep him with us for many more years to come.

Now I shall go try to decide if I want to take the medication that will knock me out, or keep me awake.

Friday I thought it would be a cool trick if I could be in two places at once. By today, I need to be in three places at once. Famke's party, the hospital and my bed.

Oh, and in all this fuzzy confusedness, I DID get a dress for Youngest Son's wedding!

(see? i have NOT totally lost my ability to look at the bright side.)

Indulge Me Here

If you are one of those people, like me, who wonder what happened to the Christmas ornament hook, well you have come to the right place.

Wonder along with me.

THIS is what happened to it! It went from something almost artistic in quality (i have an even more ornate one, but it is attached to a neatly wrapped ornament in a box in my basement presently) to this flimsy little wisp of a thing that can hardly hold itself onto a tree, let alone hold a tree ornament.

LOOK at that! Many many lessons in these hooks, I tell you.

Cost-Cutting

So far, I haven't heard a money-saving tip yet that will help me.

Who are those people reporting on news shows and writing for magazines?

They need to get a clue.

Some of the things they suggest that I do to save money I have been doing all of my life.

So far, I have saved, well.., let me go get my purse...

...let's see...

Nope. Nothing there.

Nothing.

Lately I've heard that I could 'save' money by:

Cheaper Haircuts - My haircuts are free, THGGM has tried to teach me to cut his hair, but considering how close I need to get to something to actually SEE it, I fear one of us could lose an eye. I bet that is costly. He has been cutting my hair for 30 years.

Do Your Own Nails - I have never had my nails done. This would not surprise anyone, as my nails are unsightly. Clean, yet unsightly.

Knock-off Designer Clothing - The last article of clothing I bought that cost over $4.oo was the dress I wore to my niece's wedding in May. Anything else I buy has to fit into my $5.00 a week thrift store budget. Oh, and I wasn't going to buy the dress, as I was going to wear my 'stand by' going away outfit, also a thrift store find. That is, until THGGM informed me that it looked like pajamas, men's pajamas, from decades ago. Okay. I caved. Bought the dress at a thrift store (on sale) and had it dry-cleaned for $12.00.

Cut Down on Driving - Cut DOWN on driving? I no longer have a car. This saved much money on gas, insurance, upkeep and what-not. And, since I never go anywhere, well, that saves money too.

Cheaper Cell-phone Packages - I had a cell-phone, once. For about a month. I did not like it. Cell-phones cost A LOT of money. We have a land line. With it comes the luxury of caller-ID, voice mail and internet. Someday soon, even these may have to go. My phone works in the backyard, which is about as far away from home as I go on a daily basis.

Cheaper Travel - Okay. I confess. I haven't flown since I was in high school. Trains? Not since elementary school. For our 30th anniversary trip we chose the hotel based on the fact that with our accommodations we were given a $25 gas card. We vacationed two hours and fifteen minutes from our house. For entertainment while on vacation, we talked. And looked at a lot of scenery. That was free.


Grow Your Own Food - Maybe next year. If I can get that half-dead tree removed, transplant the pachysandra and fill in the sink hole(s). But I would always wonder.., exactly where do the chemicals end up that have contaminated our well? Is that why the tree died? Will the roots of my zucchini plants reach into that?


Be a Savvy Shopper - THGGM spent nearly 25 years of his life (wow...almost HALF his life!) working in the grocery business. He is a VERY savvy shopper. I am no good at it. I'm all hopeful and optimistic when I shop, forgetting that I am not so hopeful and optimistic after I arrive back home and need to make something of it. We eat a lot of peanut butter on whole wheat bread. Thankfully, we like it. I have found that it does cost more to eat like I actually have diabetes than when I pretend that I don't.


Cheaper Entertainment - Goodness. I do not think we could entertain ourselves any cheaper. We have TV and Dish. I would happily get rid of both, if it weren't for the fact that I have all of the "Signing Time" episodes on my DVR. Don't want to lose those. Someone suggested that we buy them. Oh, it's a worthy cause and all, but it would cost hundreds of dollars. I cannot remember the last time I saw a movie in a theater. Was it Zoolander? I think I could go on record as claiming to be THE most easily and cheaply entertained person yet.


Make Your Gifts! - Ooooo. Now THERE'S a thought. Why didn't I think of that? Oh, wait. I've been doing that for, oh, about 40 years. Nobody wants me to draw their name at Christmas time. "Weird Mom Gifts" they're called. I'm never sure which is weird, me or the gifts. Okay. I do know, it's both.


Cut Back on Unnecessary Spending - Um. Okay. But what is described as unnecessary spending are things we have never done. How do we cut back on things we don't do? Just for the record, I have purchased EVERY issue of Somerset Studio Magazine since it began almost 11 years ago. I purchase them using Michael's Craft coupons. I've never had a subscription because I always thought - what if the next issue isn't any good? They are ALWAYS good. But, this month I passed on it. If I had a chart, I would put a Good-Dooby sticker on it.


Sell What You Have that You Aren't Using! - We had three garage sales during the summer. But, I'm not sure that this is always wise. I would amend it to say, sell what you have that you aren't using and do not have space to store. I would say that. Because I like to be surrounded by my things. Yes. I do realize that is a severe character flaw to many, but have you priced therapy lately?

Use Clothes Lines - We have gone for years at a time without a working dryer in the house. I cannot understand why more people do not line dry their clothing, at least their sheets and towels. The smell is amazing. Of course, the smell is only amazing on sunny days. Basement dried clothes end up smelling like whatever your basement smells like.

How do you cut costs?

Please write about it, and leave me a link.

My favorite blogs currently are written by those who live creatively while cutting costs. Sometimes they do not come right out and SAY that, but the way they live shows that they do.

(more to come.., as this is where my thoughts have been lately.)

No Joybells Ringing in My Heart Today

I took my dad to the doctor this morning.

There he was declared to be good for another 100,000 miles.

Always good news.

It seemed as if we drove 100,000 thousand miles just to get there.

How so many detours could be going on at the same time is beyond me.

I saw parts of the city I had only heard about on the news. Not the 'good' news, either. Good grief. I'm also not a fan of driving, and driving into the sun? Even less of a fan of that.

But. my Tuesday rant is about Mr. Roger's Neighborhood no longer being on PBS. How DARE they! I did have about a dozen episodes saved, but cleared them off when we were recording the Olympics. Now I only have four. One of Mr. Roger's being fondled by Coco the gorilla - very interesting but a bit weird. The one with May Sarton and Chris de Vinck (which also shows a cat giving birth), an episode at the zoo where they wash a baby elephant and one more.

If that isn't sad enough, PBS can no longer run Signing Time. But I do have all of those saved.

I tried not to whine, cry and carry on when HGTV removed Carol Duvall. Really, I did. In fact, I don't think I've ever mentioned it.

But, Mr. Roger's and Signing Time!? I am weeping openly and unashamedly over this. These were the only two things Jonge, Alayna and I enjoyed watching together. And, we learned SOOO much!

So. There you have it. One knows one's life is good when the worse thing that happens is the loss of the only television shows you dearly enjoyed watching.

(I have a migraine.)

If Decorating Cents is taken off of HGTV I shall have fits. It is now the only thing I watch.

Well. Now that THAT is off my chest, I am on my way to bed. To finish "Mrs. Dalloway". Now there's a looooooong day.

Stir Together One Tired Famke, One Binky-less Jonge, and One Old Beppe

Oh, boy. What a Monday.

The birthday girl was exhausted. Being the center of attention does wear one out.

The birthday girl's brother forgot his binky. His mouth was 'popping' (no one knows just what that means) and he was in possession of the birthday girls new dolly, whose name is Ella.

He tried valiantly to get his sister to believe that it was best to have the two 'old' dolls, Jack and Sally, but she wanted her new baby. This is understandable. It is HER baby, and she knows it. He knows it, too.

Replay this scene ALL DAY LONG. That was my day.

Jonge had a very hard time napping without his beloved and ever-present-at-sleep-time-only binky (pacifier).

Since he couldn't sleep (in his words, "My eyes won't shut".) we had lunch a bit earlier than usual. We had apples, peanut butter sandwiches and milk.

I did not realize this until AFTER he finally DID nap, but the milk was bad.

For the rest of the day, the poor boy had a tummy ache. A NASTY BAD tummy ache.

The milk had another week to go, but it went. Back to the store. This is the second gallon of milk that has gone bad this month. It isn't even hot, and our refrigerator is more likely to freeze liquids.

Thankfully, Famke just started drinking milk, but her's was whole milk and brought from home, so she was spared the tummy trouble.

She would not sleep in her crib. Would NOT. Refused. Oh, yes you will, said I. But, she didn't.

There was weeping, there was wailing, there was gnashing of teeth.

She slept in a heap on my chest.

It was not a good day. But, I cannot say that I do not love holding a sleeping Famke.

After naps it never got any better. Poor Jonge had SUCH a tummy ache and Famke seemed to miss being 'queen for a day'.

When Jonge kissed me good-bye, his head smashed into my mouth and I ended up with two fat lips.

And now that they are gone, I miss them terribly (the kids. that is. i still have my lips.).

Jonge and Famke

I really like these two. They make me tired, but it's a fun sort of tired. And, look what I learned to do! I've had this picture labeling option for nearly two years now, and just this week figured out what it's for. Actually, I'm more surprised that I can still learn new things than I am that it took me two years to it figure out. I've been married to THGGM for 30 years now, and I still do not have him figured out.

Case in point.

THGGM has recently taken up reading. Oh, he has been ABLE to read for years and years, he just hasn't had the time nor the inclination until now. So, he has read a book that I have not read, and is pushing me to 'read it now'. Excuse me? What about the 30+ years worth of books I've asked him to read?

Tonight I shall set aside my complete book of "The Borrowers" and pick up the book he recommended (demanded?) that I read.

Because I'm nice like that.

(there is a box elder bug walking across my computer screen presently. those stir up a great many memories from my childhood. if only i weren't so tired at the moment, i would tell you all about it.)

Because It Doesn't Always Go Badly

Before I run downstairs to fetch the sheets from the dryer so I can make the bed which I shall eventually fall into I have to note this (just try to diagram that!).

Today I thought I would have the morning free.

But, I got a call from the nursing home saying that they had a difficulty with getting payment from the insurance company for my mom's prescriptions. The very nice lady asked if I had proof of some information that would be necessary to get this all straightened out.

Of course, being the whiny type of person that I am all I could think of was 'there goes my morning'.

Navigating the health care system for the elderly is not an occupation I would have chosen. No. I would have chosen raising puppies.

My sister had recently given me the final papers for my mom's new status, so I quickly e-mailed her to find out if anyone had mentioned to her how to handle the prescription insurance.

Here I will remind myself that once, when I had a mangled knee swollen to three times it's normal size and needed to have another person to help me into a standing position, I had to e-mail my sister at her job an hour north of here to have her call my house to wake up my sleeping daughter so she could get me up to go to the bathroom. That said, my sister is rather used to getting weird requests from me by e-mail.

But, she said that all of the papers had been turned in and that everything should have been taken care of.

The reason I am writing this is that when I called the first number I could think of - my mom's Part D coverage, I talked to the most helpful person! Though I am quick to criticize, I want to be just as quick to say that this person was hard for me to understand. My accent and hers were not even remotely similar, but she was able to connect me to the information that I needed. I was put on hold for a few minutes, but, considering how some simple information has taken us weeks to get, what was a few minutes? I will not even whine about how loud the 'on hold' music was. No. No whining from me, because, she was HELPFUL. And I? I was GRATEFUL!

Of course, I still wasn't sure that the paper I had and the fax number I was given were going to end up being the right combination to open the magic fairy box where the mystery money is kept, at least I was buoyed by the thought that I had talked to a HELPFUL person who seemed to know what they were talking about. Or, better yet, what I was talking about. Because really, I didn't feel like I had any idea about that which I was talking.

Armed with the proper paper and the fax number I left for lunch at Old Country Buffet with my other sister and my dad. Goodness, is that place ever busy after 1:00 on a Friday afternoon!

Upon entering the nursing home I promptly located the woman who had interrupted my morning of supposed bliss and, now this is the good part, she said "Oh! This should do it! That was quick! Thank you SO much!"

To me, it felt like the time I got an A+ on the writing assignment that my teacher read to the class.

So there. I wrote it down. Next time when something goes wrong and I am tempted to say "Things like this are ALWAYS happening to me!" I will have this reminder that, no, they aren't ALWAYS happening to me.

Now. I have to go get my sheets...

Was that Tuesday that Just Sped Past?

I really did not like this Tuesday. I suppose that's okay from time to time - to not like a particular day.

I tried to "spring up" my dining room.

Much stuff was brought in over the weekend that needed a place to go.

But, it was also a phone call day for me. I hate those.

One was a terrible call from the billing person at the nursing home. It is taking FOREVER to get my mom approved for medicaid. Not for lack of trying on this end, either. For weeks we've been told by the 'powers that be' in this fair state that it would be taken care of 'this week'. Hopefully, the nursing home will know how to speed things up, as we are all a frazzled bunch of nerves over here. I've held up pretty well, up until today. But that call. That one pushed, shoved and kicked me over the edge - pointed, and laughed.

And then, Youngest Son stopped over. As a rule, I do not lose it like that. But, he got to witness it all. I was SO glad he stopped by, as he turned on the TV just as breaking news of a gas explosion in East Town came on. He lives in East Town, only a couple of blocks away. Had he not been right in front of me, I would have had more reason to cry.

Once I was all pulled together, I headed back into the dining room to arrange things in a pleasing and spring-like manner.

Ha.

That didn't last long.

A mouse appeared. This is the first one I have SEEN here. I watched it run right past my amazing device that is supposed to emit a sound that mice cannot stand.

Instead, I was the one emitting a shrill, high pitched sound.

I hate mice. I've never been a fan of gas. And the deplorable way the government treats the elderly is causing me deep grief.

(and now, i will get back to my 'reduce stress-reduce blood sugar' plan. hahahahahahahaha!)

My House

I really truly like my knew house. Really. Truly. We have been here for six months now and it feels wonderfully like home to me. Except for one weird aspect of it, it is the perfect house for THGGM and me.

The weird thing is the way one has to go to get into the basement. The basement is all usable space. meaning we use all of it, a lot.

Besides having an 'entry' area it has a large utility/laundry room. This room has a 3/4 bath. It also has a piano. A very nice piano. One with better sound then the one on the main floor. This area is to the right of the entry. To the left is a fantastic space for storage - containing what one would call a root cellar, it has all those built in wooden shelves. There is also a work room and a room that could easily be turned into a bedroom, with the addition of an egress window.

Straight through the entry are three separate living areas. I don't even know how to describe this except to say that we once lived in a house that didn't have as much livable footage as our basement living areas have.

But, to get to the basement one must go through the breezeway. This didn't seem like too much of a problem until it got cold. The breezeway consists of two outside walls that are ALL louvered windows/doors. This equals cold, even though THGGM stuck up that lovely plastic stuff all over it. It would be massively expensive to curtain. The primary entrance to our home is through the breezeway.

Can you see where I am going? Well. You certainly can if you are coming up to my main door! Me, the phobia queen, has a perfectly rational fear of being caught in my lovely bleach-stained bathrobe while hoisting a large load of laundry to the basement. And, if one forgets to bring ones clothes up during the day, one is illuminated as one runs down the stairs to retrieve said items. There is a clothes chute. I think I once was able to get a washcloth crammed down it. Then, when I went downstairs, I noticed that the chute dropped the washcloth directly in front of the hot water heater. That can't be good.

I just hate that. Not enough to hate the house, but enough to hate the fact that there is NO other way to get down there.

And, the basement area is where we have our DVD player. I know. It's 2008 and we only have one. One seems like an extravagance to me. So, if THGGM and I are watching a movie in the basement in front of a roaring fire we lay there knowing that we have to run through the freezing cold breezeway to get back into the house. I tell you., I have to watch the news just to know that there are people who suffer more than I.

I've been longing for one of those spiral staircases shown in the back of decorating magazines. I want to make a hole in the floor next to my side of the bed. As best as I can figure I would come out somewhere in my work room.

Oh, and I am still coughing. I'm sure that has something to do with the breezeway too.

Did I mention that I really, truly like this house? Yes. I do. I certainly do.

(insert a loud scream here)

Excuse me while I whine a bit. I have a cough that rattles my teeth. Mostly it's a good thing that I love to stay home so much, because my chances of leaving here until this cough subsides is slim to none.

Yesterday, while I was enjoying being home bound and alone, I got a phone call from the nursing home.

My mom was not doing well. I'm not used to hearing bad information in such a steady stream, especially when it was SO unexpected. Many family members had seen her on Sunday, and she was doing very well.

It seemed odd to me that in just days things had gotten bad so quickly.

Then, the nurse happened to mention that they had changed her medications. Added two. Changed the timing on one. Two of them were medications we didn't even know she was being given.

I must tell you something about my parents. They have NEVER been able to handle medications.

The stories about my father are legendary. He once had a cold. Just a simple cold. My mom left him to care for his two preschool daughters and two preschool nieces while the mom's went out. When my mom and aunt arrived home, my dad was found on the floor in their bedroom looking under the bed. My mom questioned him, and he responded that he was looking for the girls. They were, thank God, safely in bed. After he had put them to bed he had taken a Contact cold tablet and lost all touch with reality.

My mom could not even take an aspirin without needing to go to bed.

So, back to Tuesday. The nurse said that they were having trouble waking my mom up in the morning.

Go figure. They changed one of her night meds to morning. This one helped her stay asleep. They switched it because they put her on an additional drug which needed to be given at bedtime. This one kept her awake. So they GAVE HER AMBIEN.

Are you familiar with Ambien?

NOBODY should take this drug.

I have spent the better portion of this evening googling drug interactions. The new one she is being given should not be give with the one she was already on. Yet she is being given both. The new one also causes extreme sleepiness, even more so if given with a different med she is still on. One of the many side affects of Ambien? Anxiety and agitation.

So, when they call me to tell me that it is very difficult to wake her up and when they do she is extremely agitated...

Well, you can expect that this will also cause extreme agitation in me!

I want to go there and give them 'what for'. But, in general they are very good people. And, I have never given 'what for' to anybody, ever.

Since I am coughing like one dying of consumption, I dare not go and spread my disease to other more vulnerable folk. Although I can think of a few of the less vulnerable who might benefit from a cough that might just rattle their brains enough to jar some sense into them.

Now, excuse me while I go scream.

(That reminds me, I've often wondered why characters who are chronically ill in novels are always described as thin, lovely, gentle women who bare their illnesses with much patience mixed with stealy resolve.)

Pssst. Am I the Only One Who Cannot Figure Out This Stuff?

Yes. I'm still sick. Just thought I'd let you know. I bark like a performing seal. All that is missing is the brightly color ball to balance on my nose. I DO have a brightly colored nose, if that counts.

When my dad brought my mom over today he handed me an envelope. I still have several envelopes I've been handed to go through. Behind I am in envelope attending.

This one was marked URGENT or some other such word that made my stomach lurch.

Have I mentioned lately that second only to moving, I HATE figuring out insurances and prescription stuff for my parents? Have I? I certainly believe that I have.

The URGENT envelope told me that my parents prescription coverage is going to go up in every way possible. They are presently in the 'gap' where they are both required to pay full price for their medications. Even that gap will be widening next year. Yet, they will be paying more for less.

It used to be so easy. They had very good insurance from my dad's former employer. The prescription coverage was great. It always covered everything. They paid a handsome premium, but it was worth it.

Then that insurer in a fit of what can only be described as utter madness DROPPED the prescription coverage.

My life since those insurance people dropped the prescription coverage has dropped drastically in quality. I spend much time searching out better and more affordable programs for my parents.

Did anyone ever stop to consider that the people whose lives they are messing around with are old? On fixed incomes? Unable to figure out the strange and tangled mess that insuring the elderly has become?

Under their first health insurance, the one that still had prescription coverage, I could solve all of their paper work problems with one simple email. Everything was on-line and simple for ME to understand. My parents understand nothing about computers. My dad is thrilled when I play a foreign language for him, or show him my blog in Spanish (i have to show it to him in spanish, so he can't read it. pictures are not translated. funny, isn't it?) or when I play an old Amos and Andy show for him. But, to have him order drugs on line - he would not be able to do it. My mother can no longer find her way out of my bathroom, so, I truly doubt anyone would expect her to figure this mess out.

So, who gets to?

Oh, Dear "Powers That Be", it falls to my parent's uneducated child (me) to figure this out. She who would rather be doing a thousand other equally distasteful things or even tasteful things, but finds herself AGAIN, needing to maneuver the horrible mess that health insurance in America has come to.

"Powers That Be" please note that in the past three years I have spent more time on this than I have on anything else in my life.

I want a permanent solution (not the kind that will curl my hair, although, this one does do that...yes...it does) that will give my parents, parents who have always been wise and discerning in EVERYTHING they do to be cared for in a way that brings honor and respect to them.

They have fantastic doctors. But, the help that they need is being blocked at every turn by this mess that you, "Powers That Be", have created.

I cannot figure out why the richest nation in the world cannot solve this. It is an appalling situation.

I would devote all the rest of the years of my life to searching out what is best for my parents, but then YOU HAVE TO STOP CHANGING THE RULES. Will this be the FORTH November in a row that I have had to find another way to get them the things that they NEED?

I am sick and tired and depressed.

Something has GOT to change. This is INSANE.

I cannot do it anymore, because I do know the definition of insanity. Doing the same thing in the same way every time and expecting a different result.

Soon, there will need to be a law placed in effect similar to the law in my state that allows a mother to drop off her newborn baby at a police or fire station with no questions asked. This law will need to cover the other end of the age spectrum.

And, I will end with this wonderful word from Calvin's dad of Calvin and Hobbes fame:

Slippinrippindangfangrottenzargbargadingdong!

Oh, Really? And You Teach?

Today was NOT a good day with my mom. Some of my theories about what might help her were tried and found wanting.

I allowed that to put me into a rotten mood, wanting to only watch TV. Even the calming voice of Mr. Rogers failed to sooth.

While Daughter nursed Famke, THGGM took Jonge outside for a walk.

I watched the news.

There was an interesting story telling how in the past high schools typically taught Spanish or French as a foreign language but today the language of choice tends to be Mandarin Chinese.

The teacher, from an area public schools, had this to say:

"There ain't no country in modern history..."

Excuse me?

And we wonder what is wrong with our schools.

I am shocked and appalled, I tell you.

Shocked and appalled.

She Suffered From Severe Weirdness, Which In the End, Took Her

Oh, I hate to admit it, but I am very very busy today. I dislike being too busy.



Yet. I took the time to read the obituaries.



In the past, I have done this in a very obsessive compulsive manner. Now, I read them on line at Mlive.com.



But unless one's obituary appears in the paper on Sunday or Wednesday I won't know about it. Please, if you plan to die on a different day, could you let me know?



So today, my busy Friday, while I wait for machines to come to their conclusions, I am perusing the Sunday and Wednesday obituaries. Not necessarily this past Sunday or Wednesday's either.



This is a note to my family.



PLEASE do not list whatever pets I have at the time of my demise as survivors. I find that weird. One has to PAY for every word. When I would put a section of paper under any pet I've ever had, they did not pause to READ it anyway. They used it for other things.



Also, if sometime before I die I were, let's say to finally do something wonderful, PLEASE do not list it. I'm not planning to do anything wonderful, but IF I were to, I would not want the world to know about it. Let's let it be our little secret.



Please list my grandchildren by name, and my great grandchildren also. I'll start a little fund to pay for it. But, if THGGM dips into that fund before I die (would it be too much to hope we will be beyond pop can returns by then?) it could be included as 'in lieu of flowers'. Although, I do like flowers, rather much.



Now, were your father to go before me, and I do not show up to the funeral it is not because I have a migraine or am to agoraphobic to attend. It is because I ran out of gas. Could someone come get me before the final hymn is sung? I'd want to see him one last time, laying down while not snoring.



Before the lid is shut upon me, could someone grab a scissors and cut that perfectly good lining out of my casket? I won't be needing it, and it is GOOD material (unless, of course, you skimped on the casket, which is fine and in which case you can ignore this.) There are many useful things one could do with that fabric. Putting it in the ground would just ruin it. I have some tea set aside with which to dye it.



And now, my last request in THIS post (i do so plan to update this.) is, if I die of something really gross, let's just keep that between us too. Don't put it in the obituary. No one needs to know.

I Need to Vent

Last week when I visited my parents to organize their meds for the week, they had 'company'.

My dad approached me and whispered that my mom wasn't doing so well. My mom approached me and said that she wanted these people to leave.

I checked her meds and noticed that she hadn't taken her 'last night' pills. Poor mom. No wonder she wasn't doing well. Even I've considered drugs after leaving their house when they have 'company'.

So, I got her a glass of water, handed her the pills and told her she would be tired in 30 minutes. She looked at me and inquired in her quick witted way if I had anything stronger and faster.

She's getting feisty, that mother of mine.

I have some problems 'doing' my parents meds, as they like to talk and I need to think. But, my parents are quiet talkers and avoid ALL controversy in it's many and sundry forms.

Their 'company' does not. They actually shout, and controversy is all they've got.

While trying to calm my mother, alert my father and concentrate on putting dozens upon dozens of tiny white pills into tiny receptacles I was unwillingly held captive to their conversation.

No. It wasn't a conversation at all.

To have a conversation, my parents would have been required to respond or add valuable insights. But, they could not. They tried, but they could not.

The 'company' are three adults from one family. How they haven't driven themselves and each other completely insane is beyond my comprehension. Because, they have a good start on me. And, I want to blame them completely for my mother's dementia. Sometimes I even get angry at my dad, who puts up with it even though my mom cannot handle it at all anymore.

IF it had been an actual conversation, I would try to repeat it. But, since it wasn't, I will do my best. And then, in a very short time, I will delete this post. Today though, I need to vent.

All they do is sing stupid songs that don't mean anything and just keep repeating the same thing over and over. (ummm. those are psalms, last time i checked, His love endures forever repeats often in the psalms) Nobody likes it. (the people that i know who go there like it) And they all come in late. Everybody comes late. (quite possibly this is because they are in conversation with other people about real things) And one guy just can't do it. He needs three other people to stand next to him. THEY DON'T EVEN USE THE HYMNBOOKS ANYMORE. (the 11th commandment?) There aren't even any pews. (because a numb behind is a sign of spiritual maturity?) Just plain old chairs that stack up. That pastor doesn't even preach about heaven and hell. Never hear about heaven or hell. (really. after 75 plus years in church, you still haven't heard enough about heaven or hell?)

Now. Repeat this over and over, becoming louder and louder as you go. Pepper it with 'damns' and 'hells' that aren't necessary ever in any conversation.

My dad did add an invitation to our church, where someone who the 'company' knows was mentioned. This caused snorts and retorts but nothing at all resembling a conversation.

That changed things up a bit. Out of nowhere I started to hear about someone who:

Is no good anymore. (according to who?) No good anymore at all. Bought a motorcycle. (as i recall, you bought a motorcycle once) All he does is ride that motorcycle. Must be a mid-life crisis. (if it's who i think it is, mid-life happened awhile back) What does he do with all his money? (how is his money any of your business?) All that money. (money. why does it always come around to how much money people have?) All he does is ride that motorcycle. (get a clue) He's up to no good. (because motorcycles are inherently evil?) And all that money. (suddenly, i want a motorcycle.)

Okay. Now do the same thing. Repeat. Get progressively louder. Swear more.

Have you ever noticed how the Biblical admonition to 'Love your neighbor' is such a heart warming thought when the 'neighbors' are unknown people that appear in ones imagination? But, the real 'neighbors' that one already knows are so stinking hard to endure. Forever.

Remain Sane

I am trying, I really am trying, to remain sane.

Because I felt last night like I might NOT remain sane, I increased my daily medication by half.

I should not have done that.

THGGM came home from church talking about how great the sermon was. I couldn't remember anything. That isn't like me. It was about some guys, brothers, I think. There was a great visual, but all I could think was what a cool head board it would make.

That extra half of meds has put me into a foggy daze of blah. Blah, blah, blah.

Anyway. I'm not sorry that I took it, because my mom was not doing so well this morning in church. Her not doing so well = Me not doing so well.

This makes me feel like a failure. I tried to persuade THGGM to rescue her and return her to my father but he suddenly noticed a light he had failed to turn on, and left. Left me to watch my mom floundering in a sea of unfamiliarity with her normal everyday life. I do not know what to do any more. (notice that i want thggm to solve this for me.)

Sometimes I can tell myself it is somewhat funny. Like when she keeps asking Daughter when she would like to have a baby shower. This sometimes happens eight times in thirty minutes. This is Daughter's second baby, and she doesn't want a shower. It's not the done thing. She just wants to get unpacked and have this baby. So, sometimes she changes the answer. (i've concidered making her a maternity shirt that says in bold print I Do Not Want a Shower, but then, other people would think she is stinky, and she is not. so i won't.)

Last night I was caught in a bold face lie with my mother. I don't lie. But, she has this particular problem of becoming attached to a certain article of clothing and she wears it until it develops a life and culture all it's own. So, I became a 'creative storyteller' and certainly bore no false witness against my neighbor.

I HAD to snatch the pink sweater away from her.

So, when I was at their house last night figuring out their meds and pretending that I have a clue about what is going on with their insurance (i don't), I told her that I would gladly take her sweater home and wash it for her. She said basically, no thank you. I countered with a tale of how I would wash it since she spilled coffee on it at my house on Thursday.

That was a lie. We didn't have coffee on Thursday.

But, it seemed safe enough as it sure looked like coffee all over her pink sweater, and her 'rememberer' has been more haywire lately.

She looked at me like I was a lying fool and proclaimed - 'I don't think we had coffee on Thursday.'

True.

But, I did manage to get the sweater.

I want to find a big blanket, crawl under it and come out sometime in, let's say, October. I like October.

Things in my world seem very unfamiliar too. I hate when things feel unfamiliar.

But, I cannot stop. Things most continue to be sorted, tossed and put into boxes.

Tonight I padded through the fog up into my messy little art room. I filled boxes with rubber stamps. I filled boxes with paper. I filled boxes with 'found elements' that any sane person would know was actually trash and would have pitched. I have two large boxes full of books and papers for decoupage projects.

Next I began sorting out the tools for turning all of that into something. Tools like heat guns, hot glue guns, soldering irons, paper cutters, paints, brushes, inks, pens, markers, punches, a plethora of glues, beads, ribbons,..oh,..this is NEVER going to end!!!!

So, I'm taking deep breaths, knowing that things work out, things always work out, even though I CANNOT POSSIBLY SEE HOW THINGS CAN WORK OUT, they do. (don't they? please say yes.)

There now. I've said it.

I do know that things ULTIMATELY work out for the ULTIMATE good.

I also know that the universe does not exist to grant me temporal happiness. (once or twice wouldn't disturb the fine balance of things though, would it?)

But, I also know that my mom will continue to decline. My dad will grow older. People I love very much will die. Other people have it much worse than me, of that I am sure. But I am not other people, I am me.

Anyway...

Today I told Daughter (who is much more relaxed now that HER move is over) that one of my biggest concerns about moving is that nobody will like us anymore after they move all of our stuff. She assured me that that isn't why nobody likes us.

I am tired. Perplexed. Flummoxed. And, just a teensy bit ornery.

(is it noticeable?)

She Whirls, She Twirls, She Spins, She Collapses

This post is brought to you by severe PMS, early warning signs of a migraine and general angst.

I have spent the morning searching my house for the vacuum. Where would you go, if you were a vacuum? I still haven't found it. I haven't ruled out 'vacuum thieves'. I like to keep my vacuum handy. Were any sort of disaster to strike, I think I could live quite some time off the cheerios harbored in my vacuum cleaner bag.

Daughter came for coffee before work. We were discussing the differences in the busy-ness of our day today. I had just told her my plans, when the phone rang.

It was my dad. Wanting to know if I was planning to pick them up, or if he needed to come get me.

What? Why? HOW???

They had doctor's appointments today.

How did I not know this?

Considering it was time to go right then, I had no other option but to tell him I could not go.

I absolutely HATE to disappoint people. I disappoint A LOT of people, so one would think I'd be getting used to it by now. But, I'm not.

It's not that my dad can't drive. It's that he can't hear or remember what the doctor tells him. Especially when he is also filtering the wrong information my mom occasionally tells.

I should be there. How this date did not get on my calendar is beyond my comprehension.

Until I remember that this appointment would have been made just a few days before Christmas, and, oh, possibly I was a little busy then.

So, it isn't so much that I worry that my dad cannot get himself and mom to their appointments. It isn't that I worry that their doctor's wonderful nurses, Marilyn and Betty, won't let me know if there is anything about which I will need to know...

It's that they go to the doctor in East Grand Rapids, and just in case you don't keep on top of things like this...

President Bush is in East Grand Rapids today.

In January I sent Youngest Son to this office to pick up a prescription for my mom. This was the day President Ford's body arrived for the funeral.

Youngest Son saw parts of the city he never knew existed.

Oh, I hope my dad and mom make it there and back okay today.

And, oh, how I HATE to disappoint.

Does anyone else remember the PBS special with Leo Buscalia where he tells of how he wishes there were an enclosed park that mothers could go to and scream at the top of their lungs?

Did he not know that the need for that never goes away?

(pssst. does anyone know if there actually IS a park like that? must. find. park.)

Just Because One Cannot See It, Doesn't Mean It Isn't There

I wonder about many things.

One of the things I wonder about is what the effects of technology are on the environment.

Not in an "Al Gore" way, but in a honey bee way.

I used to be addicted to wanting to attend seminars. I say 'wanting to' because I could not afford to attend many.

But at one I managed to scrape up the money to go to, I heard the speaker say pretty much what I said above. His wondering was more along the lines of 'how does technology effect our minds'.

That stuck with me, because I am one of those people whose mind is easily effected by, well, lets call it 'stuff'.

So, yesterday on Martha Stewart some guy was talking about the mysterious deaths of honey bees. I cannot tell you much about it, because I was in another room holding a sleeping Baby Boy.

But, it was obvious that no one knows why so many honey bees are not showing up in hives they are expected to be in.

I blame technology.

Bees buzz. Bees find their way by buzzing.

It would seem that our entire atmosphere is buzzing with technology.

It confuses me. How could it not have the same effect on a creature as simple as the honey bee?

So that's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.

Well, that or my other theory that diabetes is striking them dead.

Blog, Blog Blog, Blog Blog

I spent some time last night perusing the blogsphere. I went to sites that I do not normally frequent. I just clicked on some links in sidebars and kept going.

Several bloggers mentioned not finding many blogs that are inspirational, and how so many bloggers truly don't 'saying anything'. One mentioned finding a few 'one hit wonders' but with nothing else 'of substance' to keep them coming back.

At my blog, I come right out and warn you ahead of time that I am boring. I am. It's just a fact. Rarely, if ever am I actually BORED as I can always find something interesting to read, make or play around with.

Today, I discovered that I can put two Diet Coke fridge boxes on my feet and walk around in them like they are some freakishly large boots. No. Baby Boy was not here. I did this for myself. You might want to try this at home.

Now I am going to say something here that will most likely be unpopular. Blogs that try too hard to be inspirational bore me nearly to tears.

Why? Because life is enormously full of dull, mundane things. I fear for those always looking for the 'inspirational' as it becomes like a drug. Suddenly one needs more and more 'inspiration' to satisfy that need that absolutely everything one does has some deeper hidden meaning to it.

This doesn't mean that I don't seek out inspiration, because I do. And, I know many blogs which I frequent who have writers who do this very well. Take Debra, for instance. http://www.debrasotherthoughts.blogspot.com/ She is inspirational, but will also tell you when her life is less than sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. And, she will tell you that she has mice in her backyard that come when she calls them.

Too much of a good thing clogs up the works for me. I collect devotional books. But, sometimes I have to take a break from them. The same with quotes. I collect quotation books also. Although I have found that if I read too many fabulous quotations at a time, they quickly lose their value to me.

When you think about it, most of us ARE dreadfully boring people stuck in an existence that at times is dull as tombs. Sometimes, the boring stuff is all there is. I rather LIKE hearing about that. It makes the inspirational mean more when it comes.

Now I will leave you and go back to my mundane chores. I may find inspiration in doing them, but I may not. Either way, I still have to do them, so might as well hum a happy tune as I go.

If you are looking for great blogs written by people who frequently post about happenings in their lives, I encourage you to click on the links to the funny, entertaining and delightful commenters on my blog. You will find much to ponder.

Maybe I just prefer to ponder than to be inspired.

What's New with Me.

I have been SO unbelievably tired this week, I can barely stand it. It's seems as if last week's migraine drained me completely.

And, my blood sugar skyrocketed. Then, it plunged. I hate when that happens.

But, today I only took ONE nap with Baby Boy, so things are improving.

Let's see...what else...

My cat has nasty gas. I fed him Baby Boy's lunch leftovers. Leftover chicken from last night mixed with baby food green beans. Won't be giving green beans to a cat again. Nope. Not gonna do it.

Someday I am going to learn how to use the Dish to record Bob the Builder for Baby Boy. I think I finally have it mostly figured it out. We tend to be napping when Bob comes on.

Today Baby Boy snuck away from me. When I caught up with him, he had a kiwi-green votive candle in his mouth and a light bulb and an antique baby bottle in each hand. I don't know how he got the buffet doors to open, as I can barely do it. He greeted my arrival with a very muffled squeal. I wanted to grab my camera, but then I remembered that I don't want to be one of those people who take pictures of children doing what they should not be doing. And, he had a light bulb in his hand! My grandmotherly sensibilities took over quickly.

If I walk away from him, he calls to me. I LOVE IT! "Beppe! Beppe! Beppe!"

I've fallen behind in being an artsy craftsy lady. My head is exploding with ideas, but my domestic life will suffer if I do not pack up all of the Christmas stuff that I put into my bedroom until 'later'. Later has passed. Every night when I crawl into bed, I knock over a wooden tree. Why am I like this, I ask?

Tonight I watched American Idol. Last night I only listened. Tonight I was drawn in - you know - like how you have to look at a bad accident when you pass it, even though you KNOW that you do not want to see it. Yet, you look. Watching American Idol has reminded me that...

...YOU CANNOT BE WHATEVER YOU WANT TO BE!

I once took a friend to task over this. She claimed she was a good pianist due to much practice. I argued that she also had talent. She said, no, it was all practice. I argued that I was sure I practiced WAY more than she ever dreamed of practicing and I could not play half as well. Why? Because I do not have talent! Practice does not give you talent. It will enhance it greatly if it is there, but it will not produce it. Some of those wanna-be contestants tonight should have been stopped by their parents before they left home. A simple, 'Honey, I love you, but why don't you become an auto mechanic who hums while he works?'

Don't tell THGGM, but I just cannot find a book to read. I have about a dozen by my side of the bed, but I can't get into them. I've spent the past two nights looking at my small collection of Dover clip art books. The last image in the book I was looking at last night was of a ship wreck, or a flood. Drawings of the dead bodies of children were floating next to pieces of wood and furniture. It certainly was NOT the picture I needed to see before falling to sleep. WHY? Who at Dover chose to put this picture along with vintage ads? What was THAT an ad for?

Anyway...did I mention that we have a rather young family of mice visiting us this week? Why, yes. We do. One by one we are sending them back from whence they came. It had been MONTHS. MONTHS. Apparently a new 'mouse bus' must be stopping here again. I truly can't figure out what the draw is. Even I can't find any food here. And, we have a BIG cat! WHY??? These mice are very very black and look rather shrewish. I'm not going to attempt to tame them, anyway.

THGGM proposed tonight that the reason I am so tired might possibly be caused by my staying up so late. So late? I have not been staying up late. If he would only look over when he hears the tree fall, he would notice that the lump to his left is me.

I'm restless over my 'fast' from all things thrift and ebay. I'm sure I will be a much stronger and better person over it, but until that happens, all I feel is whiny.

Goodnight from whiny tired old me.

('snuck' isn't a word?)

A Few Thoughts on Thrifty Gifting

I know I am an oddity, but I did not enter a mall at all to shop this season. THGGM, who enjoys shopping in crowded malls, did all that shopping while I stayed home baking cookies.

But, on the Friday before Christmas THGGM and I did hit our two usual thrift venues.

While shopping there I noted that a family with young children could have clothed and toyed their family for extremely low dollar amounts. Really. I do not know why those two stores where almost empty.

I get upset that toy drives give children expensive electronic gifts. I would like to suggest that the toy drive people get a clue. Just ask people to donate the gifts to a thrift store and let people buy them at a reasonable price.

That reminds me. I saw a news report about a group who bought the most sought after toy of the year for children who had lost a parent this year. Oh. Nice. Make all the living parents of the world have to sleep with one eye opened.

My shopping was done, but I did manage to pick up a few things.

I found a set of eight snowmen mugs designed by Susan Winget (one of my favorite "Lang" calendar artists). I also found two board books in 'like new' condition for my pile of books for Baby Boy - for a mere 29 cents. One of them I had actually planned to have THGGM pick up when he was at the mall shopping for the very hard to buy for Daughter. It is a 'touch and feel' book - which are his all time favorite - that he did not have. These sell for $6.95. I also found a Fisher-Price "All About Tools" book which retails for $12.99. I bought another one, in slightly less than perfect condition, Sandra Boynton's "Barnyard Dance". I love her books. Baby Boy likes anything with rhythm.

I'm not a fan of the commercialisation of Christmas. But I LOVE giving gifts. It can be done very inexpensively, if one is capable of thinking out side the mall.

Well. That's my thrifty gifting rant for the day.

Baby Boy shared his cold with me. I am sure via the snotty pacifer he insists on shoving into my mouth when I least expect it. Which means, no doubt, I will be ranting all day. Nothing like the inability to breathe freely to cause one to rant.