fufaraw: (Default)
OH is leaving Monday for another stint in NC; his brother is having his cancer surgery, and their mom can't be left alone. BiL's partner is coming to stay near near the hospital and advocate for him during his hospital stay, and OH will be there once he's discharged to recover at home. We're expecting six to eight weeks before BiL is on his feet and well enough to manage for himself, and supervise Mom, if they've not found a good long term residential memory care place for her by then.

So there's that. He's been going ramming speed getting the bookcases together and in place so I'll have the books, DVDs, CDs, etc. to shelve and organize while he's gone. Then there's the walk-in closet reorg I've been putting off and half-assing for literally, years. I'll be busy.

So we bolted yesterday after he got the second coat of paint on the last shelf unit, heading for leafy shade and pleasant scenery, quiet music, and each other's company. Strapped into the passenger seat, I over-reached for something and my left shoulder spasmed and cramped. I eased it as much as I could, but as cramps do, it hovered right on the point of clamping down again. OH drove one-handed for a minute or two, while he jammed his fist into my shoulder blade, and when the knot went loose, he rubbed it out.

Once we were home again, he saw me working the shoulder and prepared to push his fist into the knot again. "No," I told him. "It's just sore from cramping up tight." So he massaged it (he paid for a semester of college as a masseur at the Y), rotated the arm and massaged it more until the joint was loose and happy. 

So far this week I've had a gastric upset (due to inflammation and medication), aching thumb joints and resulting near-useless hands, loose hip joints curtailing walks of any length, and now a malfunctioning shoulder. I feel so useful, not to mention attractive. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," I told him. "That you got such a dud."

He hooked his arms around my shoulders. "You are intelligent, you're good with people, you have a good heart and a fierce sense of honor, you have a killer sense of humor, you have enormous patience, and you have a fabulous smile."

"I try," I said. "Yes, you do," he agreed. Then he grinned, the little shit. "And you have a *won*derful personality." Which is his way of avoiding telling me I'm pretty, because he's a little shit. Which was a good thing, actually, because up to that point it was starting to feel like, "You is pretty, you is kind, you is important," and nobody wants to bawl in the middle of the kitchen.
 


fufaraw: (Default)

Five things in my handbag
1. notebook
2. keys
3. moss agate pendulum/worry stone
4. clip on shades/glasses
5. tiny zip bag with nippers, clippers, tweezers, sewing kit, magnet & more

Five things in my bedroom
1. tarot collection
2. pen and ink collections.
3. giftwrapping, fabric and paper craft, and office supplies
4. years' worth of filled journals
5. out of season house flags, wind socks, and door decorations

Five things I've always wanted to do (and haven't yet done)
1. spend time around stables, maybe learn to ride
2. rescue and train a dog
3. visit Provence and Tuscany
4. visit England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales
5. visit Canada--from Vancouver to PEI and Halifax

Five things I've always wanted to be
1. a reliable ear and shoulder for friends and family
2. financially comfortable
3. comfortable with myself
4. healthy and athletic
5. a little more outgoing

Five things that make me happy
1. a scenic drive on a sunny--or even an overcast day, with OH
2. deep and ranging conversation with friends
3. soaking in a silent moment of beauty
4. writing something I recognize is well done
5. solitary time without guilt

Five things I'm currently into
1. new bookshelves and discovering book friends I've not seen for a while
2. stepping up exercize from couch potato level
3. Shadowhunters, esp. Malec
4. improving my diet, by deliberate degrees
5. re-evaluating and making changes (life, home, etc,)

Five things on my to do list
1. finish (as if) sorting and shelving books
2. finish sorting and shelving DVDs/CDs
3. drag *everything* out of the walk-in, sort, cull, reorg, donate, or list on ebay
4. sort tarot--find boxes and rebox culls
5. list culled tarot on ebay

afternoon

Aug. 13th, 2017 06:32 pm
fufaraw: single candle flame (one candle)
It's so much cooler now than it was last week. I feel like I'm actually living again, rather than laboring to exist from moment to moment. The air, while not perfect, is much clearer after the rain.

OH finished the bookshelves under the breakfast bar (pictures soon!), and we're both a bit dismayed to realize we have far more 15" tall coffee table books on various subjects than we even thought. Some of them will have to be shelved on their sides. Plus to that, the spines can be read easily. This coming week will be me pulling shorter books and fitting taller ones on the adjustable living room shelves, as the hall (bar) shelves are built for standard hardcovers. I'd kill for a library where I could shelve by subject, then author, then pub. date. But as things are, I shelve by size. And within that constraint, I try to organize by subject, and then by author, where I can. But mainly, it's all by size.

Since it's the anniversary of our son's death, we decided to drive out toward Deception Pass, where his ashes are scattered. The parking lot on Pass Island was jammed, so there was no hope of stopping, or having a private moment today, so we kept driving. Someone has planted trees and a garden around the massive chunk of driftwood that resembles a dragon and is locally known affectionately as Nessie. Thoughtful, but in a season or two she won't be visible from the road, standing guard on the cliff above the strait.

We drove out to Ebey Point--couldn't see the mountains on the far side of the water, but we found a gap in the sea oats that line the road by the beach and parked where we could watch and hear the breakers, as well as the grass blades and seed heads of the oats rustling in the constant offshore breeze. We'd planned to cut the stereo when we stopped, but Native American flute and drums were playing and it somehow seemed appropriate. We'd brought a fresh rye boule and a small tub of sweet butter, fresh zucchini, a bit of leftover smoked salmon, some very sharp cheddar (and string cheese, because picnic!), a handful of white grapes and another of home grown yellow cherry tomatoes. No conversation necessary at all, beyond, "More butter?" or, "Grape?" It was lovely.

I count as one of my great achievements getting OH to accept that hunks *torn* off a loaf of fresh bread are always better than a careful slice--more nooks and crannies for the butter! More texture, more flavor! Plus, that atavistic satisfaction of primitive humanoid ripping off a fistful of food and eating it out of hand.

I hope everyone had an agreeable Sunday.
fufaraw: (Default)
Name the tv show you have become addicted to. Supernatural, of course. Was there any doubt?


Also, I think it's a combination of the forward movement while we're taking a drive (as opposed to approaching a destination) plus the Old Folks' music (atmospheric, no lyrics) we tend to listen to. But I had a near-religious experience this afternoon suddenly hearing Yo Yo Ma and Bobby McFerrin dueting on Concerto in D Minor for 2 Mandolins, RV. 532: Andante. Album, Hush, ordered. MINE!
fufaraw: (Linus pumpkin)
I live with several physical ailments--none lifethreatening, just distracting and exhausting. Tiresome to talk about, to explain to a doctor, doctors, specialists. So far I'm managing to avoid taking organ-damaging drugs, maintaining with avoidance diet and OTC pain meds.

And then there are the chronic mental-emotional glitches. I'm fiercely introverted, I have ADHD (inattentive. What were you saying?), and am mildly autistic. Traits I've learned to leverage as hyperfocus = productivity, and compartmentalizing.

I got some bad family news this week, and my inevitable self-castigating thought is, "if I'd been there, I could have done something before this happened." But I wasn't, because I had other debts to pay, so chips are falling, no matter what I do.

I see Jared work with programs that help people, and encourage and support people--Always Keep Fighting! And often, my response is, but why? I will admit that life has its moments, its clear vision, its lung-expanding deep breaths, its joyous sounds. Sometimes those things combine to create a pocket of real happiness, contentment, joy.  Those times are precious, and I treasure them. But the problem is white-knuckling it from one of those moments to the next, and I can't help weighing the payoff against the payment, evaluating the bargain.

We ran away from home today, OH and I, on a gorgeous sunny fall day. We were driving through farm country--vast blue skies and rafts of fluffy white clouds over fields gilding in the sun. Conversation was sparse today. We spar and argue and play devil's advocate with each other, egg each other on, but we're good quiet together, too, and today was quiet. I suddenly was aware <a href=https://video.search.yahoo.com/search/video?fr=tightropetb&p=david+darling> this piece of music was playing. My favorite instruments in the world are oboe and cello--piano and guitar are distant third and fourth. As I closed my eyes and slipped into the music, suddenly I felt myself floating, soaring, above the fields, eye level with the treetops and horizon mountains, warm breeze cradling me, stroking my skin. I turned to OH, "I could fly quite a while on this music." He smiled, and I turned back to my window, aware now of the tears slicking my cheeks.

I guess you could call it a moment of grace. I've ordered the CD. May it make the spaces between a little easier.
fufaraw: (J2)
We have snow depth markers along most of the roadways here, just posts with blue reflectors on top. As we stopped for a turn today, I noticed one of them, standing bare and alone with a sea of daisies around its foot. Seasons do turn.
fufaraw: (J2)
Took a drive in the country this afternoon. There was a runner along the shoulder, and I automatically checked if it was a child or senior citizen--nope. Nice, easy lope, surefooted, long legs, broad shoulders, black sweats, maroon hoodie, black ball cap on backwards. Dark hair, pretty flush on cheeks. And I realized I wasn't wearing my sunglasses when I got a nice half-grin and a hand raised in salute. I got caught looking too long--sorry not sorry. Oh you delicious Clark Kentish young morsel, you. You made my whole afternoon!
fufaraw: (J2)
In one of our countryside rambles in the car yesterday, OH and I came upon the Big Rock Cafe (no bigger rock than usual in sight, however. Maybe they had to remove it to build the place), with gas pumps alongside. Lettered along the eave of the building was the legend, "Eat here and get gas." *rimshot*
fufaraw: (highway to hell)
After watching tonight's ep, I've been bopping around the house singing under my breath, "Two good ol' boys, behind the wheel, trackin' down bad guys in Lucille. ...Two good ol' boys, behind the wheel, trackin' down bad guys in Lucille."  My mind, she is a random and scary place.
fufaraw: (J2)
To the lab before breakfast for fasting blood draw, after pounding water last night and this morning. Waiting room unusually full, and after awkward silence, someone mentioned "dog", and we all fell into discussion of dogs. At no point did I feel it appropriate to shrug, "But I'm a cat person," because I love dawgs, too. One of the wait-ers breeds and raises Shelties, and she had a pic on her phone of her brood--SO CUTE!!

The bruise is nearly faded from the last draw--the tech is careful and as quick as she can be, I just have tiny, squiggly, wriggly veins. She had to fan the needle under the skin last time, unsuccessfully searching for the vein, thus the spectacular bruise. But I usually bruise if you blow hard on me, so I'm not the ideal confidence-builder for a phlebotomist. She asked which location paid off last time, and we started on the back of the left hand. OW. She managed to get enough for one of five tests. Then to the left inner elbow, where the bruise lingers, and she got enough for one more test. Finally, the right inner elbow yielded enough for the remaining three tests.

OH put a cup of coffee in my had before I was out of the chair, and we set off on a drive down a sun-dappled leafy cliffside drive. A half peanut butter sandwich each, with a banana as backup, and we were good. We meandered to Deception Point, and across the bridge, a nod to the rock where we scattered our son's ashes, and on to Whidbey and Ebey Point. We parked and watched a handful of guys flail the water with fishpoles and lines, saw a fish jump, listened to the surf roll in, basked in the sun, and watched the dazzle on the water. Heaven. Then back through Coupville (a nod to Sally's shop), and along Madrona Way. We wandered, "lost," up a private road to try and get a better look at a house with an interesting roof we can only glimpse from the road, but it's shrouded in blackberry vines and hidden, so we did *not* drive up the driveway and pretend to have the wrong address.

We were going to stop for lunch in Oak Harbor, but the restaurant is no more, so we came home and had a late lunch, did eyedrops and "morning" meds (oops), and a few small chores, and now I'm catching up on the internetz. We're all fine here, how are you?
fufaraw: (J2)
In addition to all the lovely fic I've been marking "to read later" so as to keep focused on getting my BB done by post date, I reeeeeally hope Mad Max: Fury Road is still on the big screen anywhere near me when I'm done. I need to see it wall to wall, at least one more time. Really. big. carrot.
fufaraw: (J2)
Man, this is the *third* post--LJ's swallowed the other two.

I just wanted to apologize for being so thin on the ground hereabouts of late. I've kind of had my head down. I pulled the trigger on my BB draft and got a confirmation email back. Man, Wendy must be seeing double by now, with all the last-minute influx. Anyhoo, all that's left to do now is, um, write it into a thing that's actually readable. By people. Alons-y!

To celebrate, OH and I went out for a long drive yesterday, stopped for ice cream but the lines were oh hell no long, and you know, neither of us actually needs ice cream anyway.

I did get to rescue a kitten--small child running, kitten grasped in both hands around shoulders and chest, wee head bobbing at every step, hindparts swinging to and fro. I asked politely if I could hold the kitten, and tucked it up close into my (comparatively) massive and (very) protective chest, cradled its backside and hooked my chin above its head, making of my body a mama-cave for the kitty. I believe I was on the point of achieving purrs, when the parent of the child appeared, and I surrendered the kitty with apparent good grace. The dialog in my head, however, was running: Other Human, how much cash you got on you? okay, your $37.48 and my $12.75--"I will give you $50, cash, right now, for this kitten." We can pick up litter, litterbox, and food on the credit card, and find a vet who accepts installment payment.

But the dialog stayed inner, and the kitten went away. To compensate for the sadness, OH drove me by the koi pond supply place to pay annual homage to the Empress tree in bloom. I will not attempt to add a picture, since that has crashed le El Jay twice. I will tell you that it is a candelabra tree, with wide-spaced branches and hyooge honkin' leaves, that has blossoms that look like upside down wisteria blooms. We used to see them volunteer in NC, mostly grown up through the middle of roofless abandoned buildings. But here they're ornamentals, planted on purpose to show off their shape and leaves and flowers. Pretty trees.

So, I am back. I've tried to keep track, even if I haven't been chatty. Tell me if there's stuff I missed. I missed *being* chatty. Hi!

And, along with not being able to embed a photo, or read comments on other people's posts, apparently I can't choose a tag from my personal tags. What up with that, ElJay?

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