Our president could make our world more peaceful and loving.  I don’t think that is his intent.  Instead he’s the epitome of the school yard bully.  Poking and spewing words that insight and cause headlines.  Numbers and self congratulating  pats on the back seems to be his only agenda and self creating issues.  I feel he’s turning the Whitehouse into a stage for what he sees as his reality presidential TV show with all the networks giving him more free air-time then their advertised shows pay for.  I’m sure his new motto will be “The most televised president in history.”

I hated getting up.  Another day without you is getting very depressing.

But I miss my gel nails.  Thought it was an unnecessary expense during retirement but a treat that I now know I need.

I do to keep me busy while you’re gone.

Since you do most of the cooking I thought I’d clean out these 2 places that you totally trash as you come up with your delicious meals.  Lost alot of the spice contents in the drawer as you can’t remember to close the lids tight. Vacuumed up all the spills.   I try to put the spices in alphabetical order but instead putting the ones most often used in the front.  Tomorrow I will dp the fridge and pantry.  I’m throwing out anything opened or in there too long.

Hopefully over the weekend I will be cleaning out the front closet and giving away some coats.  Will seach for your teeth before I toss.  We have too much and our closets are so full we can’t wear all we have and can’t see most of what we own.

Insurance takes a big chunk out of this retired couples monthly income.  Health, car, home insurance not to mention life insurance.  I think it’s time to cut back and use the money to pay bills rather than augment with savings to pay so much insurance.  Tough questions need to be asked and answered.  Interest rates have made savings nothing more than a piggy bank gathering dust rather than interest.  When the income becomes fixed cutbacks are needed to keep increasing bills in proportion to one’s income.  Working on those insurance policies will help greatly with their hugh absorption of our income.  Its unbelievable that interest rates are so low.  Using our money in saving accounts for almost nothing seems criminal.

 

Sadness in his voice makes my heart break.  He’s not sure about the decision.  Yet the way it was can’t be continued.  Leaving a loved one with strangers is never a good feeling but when one seems so helpless the dilemma is twice as difficult.  When he leaves I’m wondering how long before the next fall.

When it’s our turn I pray for “The Notebook” ending.

Little sister is heading over today after attending a shower at the Country Club a few blocks away.  I texted  her and told her to eat and drink and go to the bathroom there.  I don’t have anything to eat or drink and am out of toilet paper.  HUBBY is out of town and I don’t grocery shop or cook any more.  The toilet paper has always been a problem in this house.  I’m not into paper products.  Not for energy savings but because my mom was OCD about handwashing so I rebelled and guess its an ingrained OCD thing with me to keep paper products at a minimum.  Good reason to install a bidet.

I know my mom either rolled over or is shaking her head that I published her OCD problem but I got my craziness from someone and dad can’t take all the blame.  RIP mom.  I know you just elbowed dad and said, “your daughter, potty talk again”.

Sad when my brother calls and he is telling me all his blond jokes, all his nun jokes, all his religious jokes and then we laugh about all our memories and then there no sound. The silence is a bit scarey.  He then asks, “who am I talking to?”  I tell him and we laugh it off.  He’s seen 8 more years of sunsets than I have and I’m glad that all he’s lost is his short term memories. It’s fun hearing that he is doing good and always tells me he loves me.  I just wish he’d forget all those tired jokes he tells.  He sure remembers in detail all of those with no problem.

Rain go away my patio is going to float away.

Retired groom is very good at many things.  Packing for a short trip isn’t one of them.

You wake up to a pouring rain storm the best music to your ears is the constant click on and the moaning tune of a working sump pump.  This pump has been working through every rainstorm for more then I can remember.  This makes me think it may need to be retired and a new one put in its place.  This thought gives me some pause to ponder.  Its working so well.  But the only way to know it needs to be replaced is when your basement is feet deep in water.  So replacing when it is still going strong doesn’t follow the old say of- if it’s not broke don’t fix it.

Today.  Heading back to your mom’s today, relieving your brother.  Assisted living is the goal this trip but I know it will be such a bitter sweet transition for 2 boys and their mother.  My heart aches for all of you, seeing your mom vulnerable, probably for the first time in your life.  I know how my kids look when they realize I can’t or don’t want to do the things I used to.  My thoughts and prayers are with you through this emotional time and life altering change.

 

Invented these new light bulbs?  Sent hubby for bulbs a few weeks ago and I’m sure with his mom’s and brother’s input he bought the new energy saving bulbs.  A few days ago I needed to replace the bulbs over my kitchen table.  OMG.  First of all they aren’t dimmable so I won’t be turning the light on often.  But last night we had a sit down dinner and hubby put on the over the table light.  After about 15 mins.  He said what is wrong?  I feel like our kitchen table is sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot.  Yep.  It’s the new light bulbs you bought.

He and I both decided that an analytical accountant had to have invented these bulbs.  Not an amiable designer or even a laidback homeowner.  These lights put my teeth on edge.  They don’t cast a very homey or soothing glow.  They present a harsh, commercialized atmosphere that puts a person in an uncomfortable state of mind and in a hurry to digest food and get out of the runway that the lights have turned our dinner table into.

This morning new light bulbs were on my only to do list.  They were hard to come by.  I guess we will really be cutting down on our electric bill soon, because if the old light bulbs become obsolete we will be living by candelight or in the dark by the light of a log burning fire.  The sterile operating room atmosphere is not the look Im going for and I’m sure the couple from the Fixer Upper in Waco don’t market them at their merchantile design studio.

Just another problem solved in this retired brides home.  No sending retired groom to the store when he feels the need to save energy or listen to other people’s  opinions about what will work in this home.

 

So, returning from our hometown on Thursday night,  he put his suitcase in the garage rather than bringing it in the house.  On Sunday he brought the suitcase in the house and later had our grandson carry it upstairs.  On Sunday night he put our garbage cans at the curb.  Monday morning he was up early and talked to the garbage man.  About an hour after garbage PU he was looking for his dirty clothes that he brought home in a white garbage bag.  Told him he never brought one in and therefore I didn’t include his clothes with the loads I was washing   He said yes he got it out of the trunk before his golf game and set it by his suitcase in the garage.  Well I said I never saw it.  Then he thought about it and said I’ll bet I threw it in the garbage can because you empty the kitchen garbage and use a white bag and put it on the step for me to throw out.  Ok, I’m hearing a blaming situation happening here.  What part of leaving your suitcase and a garbage bag with dirty clothes in the garage for 4 days is my fault.  We empty the kitchen garbage a least once a day.  Susan and Nick came in and out of the garage on Sunday walking passed the bag if it was even there then.

Called the garbage Co.  to no avail.  Listened to you carrying on about all your summer clothes all day Monday but decided to let it go…….. Until you told me you told the dentist and his staff about the incident with my name being taken in vain as the suspect of the folley.

This now becomes open sport for me to repeat in my defense.

PS.  He has already replaced 2 pair of shorts by shopping Macy’s online.

PSS.  More to come if he blames me for the golf ball in the engine when he returns to the dentist for two more fillings tomorrow morning.  Stay tuned.

Is looking for a lost whistle today,  look no farther.  I must have swallowed it as the whistling sound coming from me is very clear with every breathe I take.  Wow that sounds like a country song in the making if I ever heard one.  I’ll need to ask Alexa to find those lryics to make sure I don’t infringe on anyone’s works.  Let’s see, standing on the corner whistling as the cars go by with every breath I take.  Think there’s an infringement in that verse.  Or how about In my lungs next to my heart I carry a whistling high pitched tune for you.  Or maybe This haunting whistle I carry inside is giving me the sleepless blues.  How about this one, Take this whistle from my lungs, my heart is broken from its sound.  Oh, the lyrics are endless and the noise is driving me mad.  Maybe instead of creating music I should go see the Dr. and whistle a little diddy into her Mic (stethoscope ) and find out exactly what my lungs are trying to put to music, because I know I’ve heard this tune before as my inhaler is trying to get it on key.  Great the ringing in my ears is trying to create a duet.

Being able to breathe is a mind altering situation.  All your thoughts are concentrated on getting one little bit of air.  But nothing lets go to permit one little glow of air into your nose or mouth.  How long this situation can last before one passes out was starting to become evident last night.  Choking and vomiting occurred.  Arms began to feel numb and the mind became dizzy.  Searching for the inhaler became a life/death crisis.  Finding one in the purse raised hope until dispensing, there was nothing coming out.  The other inhaler being somewhere upstairs was something the lungs were not allowing one to look for and soon the legs became heavy and felt nailed to the floor.  HUBBY ran and couldn’t locate the other lifesaver.  Shaking the last hope, the empty inhaller,  and putting it to the mouth 2 small sprays sputtered and opened the airways enough the get a small trickle of air and brought a sliver of relief.  Vomiting continued along with some lose of control.  A quick call to Walgreens for another inhaler and 15 mins later life returned to normal.  The situation took a toll, bringing on a throbing headache  and exhaustion.  Everything was throbbing.  Laying in bed with the sleep apnea machine on, with easy breathing returning, the chest and shoulders felt like a car or truck impact could have occurred.

Waking this morning and reliving the episode over in the mind, one realises that God’s given life and breathe can be snuffed out in a moment, if, God’s Will Be Done.  Praise the Lord another morning rose for this one lamb in His flock.

Blame game is a consistant flaw in a person’s personality, disposition and overall dignity.  Finding a reason to blame someone else for your own bad behavior, stupidity, or bad decision is a juvenile action that no one should condone or dismiss.

For help has a certain way of diplomacy in the request.  The tone of voice has alot to do with it.  If it comes in a commanding, guilt laden voice it no longer becomes a request but a demand.  A demand, indicates a right to demand which diminishes the demanded the right to decline.  This musters the feeling that free will is no longer a thing the demanded of possesses.  This causes the demanded to refuse on both constitutional and religious rights of freewill.

While asking for help in a loving, needing way creates a loving response to do whatever one can do to help.  One needs to know the the diplomacy of asking and why one might receive a negative reply.

As one ages the difference becomes very clear and one is enlightened to the ways of requesting and the need for refusing.

In this era is a big money business.  Finding the “right place for mom” is a tedious job of visiting, comparing and becoming educated on services and costs.  All the while  dealing with a parent who is quickly failing both mentally and physically.

Living far away from your aging parent is a real balancing act.  Trying to be in two places at one time is emotional and physically draining on the responsible child and their immediate family, along with the aging parent.  Leaving an elderly, partially helpless mother in the hands of a strangers in an unfamiliar home while you are 500 miles away is gut- wrenching, to say the least.  Bringing her to the area closer to your home also provides problems.  In her home town she’ll find friends and relatives living in the same place, making the transition to an assisted home a little easier.  While bringing her closer to family will isolate her in a sttange place until the family visits.  These decisions are not only hard, they are some of the most difficult, for both parent and child.  But realizing that the parent/child reversal is not being accepted and the elder is losing weight and not thriving as she was for the 1st 4 months of recovery from a bad fall, needs to be reviewed and changed  before the deterioration continues and culminates in sickness or death.  Of course as aging continues everything will need to be reviewed and evaluated again and again.  Both for the elder mother and the aging children who are entering the same stages of decline she has be fighting for a few years with strength and grace.  “A place for mom” is an exercise in love, bewilderment, agony, guilt, hurt, and tragedy for both mother and child as they travel life’s ending road.  Hopefully God’s Grace will shine through enlightening and softening these times of our lives.

 

Tweeting Trump is scaring the living daylights out of me.  What ever is under that wig of yours stop tweeting it.

This transition goes easily for all of us.  None of us are happy with the situation as it sits now.  Just praying God sees fit to make this change be an easy fit for her.

Can two people want the same thing and go about it so differently?  And how can the person they are caring for insight such anguish is beyond me.  This type of action is downright shameful if not sinful.

Are something I find very easy to make.  I don’t need to think about what if?  I don’t make a list of pros and cons!  My decisions rest completely on what is right to do at the moment and the action follows quickly because what is right needs little thought.  If I have to sleep on it or ponder it then the decision is the wrong one and needs to be thrown out.   I don’t need second opinions, I don’t need a consensus of opinions.  I seldom ask for opinions.  If it’s wrong it feels wrong.  I stand my ground on my decisions.  If they aren’t my decisions then I give no input unless asked then I give them the answer of what I would do.  When someone can’t make the decision they shouldn’t have the decision.  I judge many by their decisions and feel they reap what the sow.  I don’t think I’m self righteous I just have a conscience that doesn’t have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other.  Most of my upset stomach aches come from not speaking because my opinions aren’t wanted.  Or the decision is not mine to make.  As a bystander I see the problem and how to solve but my hands are tied.  My teeth are a testament to my holding my opinion.  My teeth are worn flat from clenching to keep my opinions inside.  My opinions are mine to keep inside unless it’s my decision to make.

Provides us with a list of chores that will keep us busy from sun up to sun down.  Unending cleaning, polishing washing and fixing is the price of home ownership.  When part of this team is gone the chores seem overwhelming.  Today things are a little on hold as this headache has a hold on me.

Is right around the corner.  When did my world get so small?  Great-grandparents are this age and as I look around I see they are gone. Grandparents are this age and as I look around mine are gone and I have 6 boys that call me grandma.  When did the grandparent line become so short with me at the front.  I don’t remember applying for the role of matriarch of this family but it looks like age is the calling card and required resume.

I remember the feeling at high school graduation as not being a  graduate at all but a ceremony of being kicked out.

Age at certain times is the same thing as an experation date.  Our shelf life is over.

As we’ve known it, is on hold.  Elderly care is upon us and the distance makes the care difficult on both of us.  Since we too are up in age this separation is a bit scarey.

Are something I don’t understand even though I live in the midst of many.   Fear of outside of their world opinions, keep many from living an authentic life,  hiding  behind a false bravado or reserve is the front to hide their true self.

 

I know God is still on His throne and in charge.  I can’t change His will and therefore I only fight sin and occasion of sin and live life according to His path for me.  My life is in His hands and I know I am in Goodhands with Him.  This is my resolve and was instilled in me early in life.  I sin because I am not perfect I am not He.  I seek forgiveness because I sin.  HE is not done with me yet and gives me nothing I can’t handle.  I am clay in His hands and He is smoothing out my rough and callous spots.  I trust that my life is His and He is leading the way that I follow.

I’m sad.  Feeling left behind as he cares for his other love- His mom.  Being without mine for over 45 years, my world revolves around him. When he’s away, the merry-go-round stops .  The horses don’t gallop, the music doesn’t play and the gold ring is beyond my reach.  My Carousel becomes silent and lonely waiting for his voice, his touch, or just the twinkle of his eye to start our lives turning again.  I will dust, oil and repair our Carouseled life until his return and our life lightens my eyes, heart and love again.

His voice still, stills my heart.

Began to ache as the garage door lowered and his car descended our driveway.  Before he slid into his seat behind the wood accented steering wheel we kissed and hugged like we were in college leaving each other after a wonderful weekend together. But we aren’t young anymore, although our love affair has never changed its tingly and heart throbbing feel even after its beginning over 55 year ago.  Each kiss, each hug, each loving event can be named and dated with details of the weather, the place and the clothes we wore.  Our love affair is not only remembered but is constantly reminisced and devoured as though it is a living and breathing thing of which is in both of our hearts and minds and continues with each breath we take.

Echoes through the house when he’s home.  This morning it’s the Little River Band.  He’s getting ready to make his favorite eggplant dish.  Will make myself scares as the mess is overwhelming but he gets it cleaned up eventually.  Good time for me to start my new book. He’ll be in the kitchen at least 3 hours.  His cooking and his music makes him happy.  And I’m always happy when he’s happy.  Days of bliss with my retired groom.

Scares me to death.  Can’t imagine a storm that is as wide as the state of Florida and winds that will do so much damage.  Prayers that all in its path will be protected.

Voice, still, stills my heart.

Plays crazy with your mind.  If this is life I don’t think it’s a viable living. Was too busy and active to slow to this.   Are dreams over?  Am I being swallowed in sadness?  Have I missed the exit?  Is this not my road anymore?

Is hard to bring to light when you’re alone.  Seeing no end to this situation is a little worrisome.  Need to up my game and get motivated when he’s gone.  It’s hard for him too, putting everything on hold to take care of his mom.  So proud of him and his brother.

I wonder if this is climate change or just God’s design. After the hatefulness that occurred in North Carolina a couple weeks ago a natural disaster occurs and pulls the people of our great country together.

Auras are happening so consistently. Soon after headache above the eye begins. The doctor said there’s nothing to worry about but they sure do you bug me.

My clocks they all chime at slightly different times because l love their voices.  It brings back a memory of a movie I saw long ago with my mother about a town cryer who would announce the time on the hour.  Two o’clock and all is well he would cry out every hour on the hour and possibly the half hour.  Growing up mother had a grandmother’s clock sitting in the hall against my bedroom wall.  It was a smaller version of a grandfather clock thus the name grandmother.  It stood in the hall keeping time and keeping all of us on schedule.  But at night it would rock me quietly to sleep with the the tick tock of its voice and telling me all is well on the hour.  The clock was my grandmother’s and sat in my home long before I came into it.  Today it is silent as it sits in my sister’s home. It sits on display and is always visible although it no longer provides it soothing sounds.  In my home my clocks sit in most every room.  Some chime some just keep time.  Last week my husband noticed our grandfather clock was no longer keeping good time and suggested I get it fixed.  Today may be just the day to turn my quiet grandpa into another chimmer giving it a voice.  I sure hope it can be done. Will update this operation soon.

the aging process on my face would follow that of my feet.  My feet and toes have not changed in size since Jr. High school.  As I veiw them crossed on the coffee table sporting my favorite toe wrapped sandals they really don’t look their age.  The arch is still high, the ankles haven’t grown to cankals and the toenails still sparkle after a pedicure.  My face on the other hand appears to have carried not only this bodies weight but the weight and problems of the world.  The skin on my face, unlike the skin on my feet, appears to have been dragged along the concrete pavment without the protection of shoes.  And I find that ULTRA doesn’t sell the kind of spackle that could renew the surface.

And today is one of those days, I just feel like doing nothing.  I’m up, yet that is as far as this day has proceeded.  My mind is working overtime on all the things I need to accomplish or could accomplish but today just isn’t a “I got to do that” kind of day.

I envy those that have their to do lists and yet as soon as they “Do” they find more to do.  I’m beginning to think that CNN is affecting our way of life by always having breaking news, our way to compete is to have an unending – to do list.  This is and never has been my forte.  A to do list to me is a dictation of pen and pencil directing me to do things in a logical order that my right brain does not wish to follow or give independence to.  At the end of the day the to do list sits, nothing crossed off and leaving a feeling of failure which in no way stimulates one to continue. The list in my mind, which continuously changes by the minute creates a series of doings that pleases me and forms my day of productivity. To each his own way of accomplishments.  My drummer not only beats a different cadence but does more of a shag rather than a march though each day traveling to the end of my 24 hours of daily living.  Left behind will be a wavy path with unfinished tasks as seen through the eyes of others but to those that know and love me the path will create a void that only they will feel and miss.

Do aches and pains become highly annoying once you go to bed?  Is it because you are no longer distracted by the sights and sounds of the daylight hours?  Is it that you become more intuned to your body once the light fades and the deafening noises calm to where you are aware of your heart beat and the sounds of your internal plumbing?  The minute the outside noises calm the tintinittus in my ears and head begin to react to a fever pitch as though on cue it wants its audience of one’s complete attention.  For the passed 8 years I feel or rather hear a sound that makes me think I have become the single incubator for the locus population of the earth.  In my head I wonder especially at night if this is a plight given to me as some type of joke to drive me insane.  But then, as if an orchestra leader is tapping his stick to drop the musicians sound to a barely auditable pitch, daylight breaks. The sound is still there but it has moved to the back of the room or my head as if each musician is taking turns inhaling off the same smoke during a synchronized musical break.  Thus enabling me to proceed through the day to the lower pitch sound in my head until the setting suns unleashes the deafening sound yet again into every cavity of my skull.

Walking into the ultra sound room I could see the image of my breasts on the screen.  There on the right breast was a white spot circled in red.  This is what we are going to look at today.  My eyes were glued to the image.  The inside looks nothing like the outside. How did this spot get there. It looks like a white spot that you would get on your fingernail only bigger. I can’t see anything attached to this white spot on the screen that seem like nothing to me.  But that spot has been causing me 24 hours of extreme fear.  Now I’m facing my fear and having this machine and technician take a closer look.  Of course I got there shortly after their call and was almost an hour early. They took me right in.  The tech went over the spot many times and continued into my arm and underarm. After a half hour she said wait here the Dr. will look and come in and talk to you.  For 10 minutes I sat looking at the screen showing the image and the spot circled in red.  My mind couldn’t think that this could be anything that could devastate my future although my stomach began to gurgle and ache. They walked back in and said.  It’s benign, you can get dressed and come back next year for the same test.  Okay. As I got dressed I think I was in a daze and gave a little sigh and prayer of thanks.  How many women have done this same routine and got a different story that would reshape their life and breasts.  Relief and prayers of thanks is all that is in my mind.  Will be happy to get the next colonoscopy done in October with the same result is my new prayer.

Brought on by the message left on the voicemail today giving me 24 hours to worry about the future here and alone.

Call me at my office when you get this message.  Wish you could have eased my mind if the exrays were unclear instead of leaving me wonder what you might have found.  Since the adenomous cells were growing elsewhere can they be here too.  Is this what’s causing the neck and shoulder aches that’s been bugging me for a month.

Sleeping on this fear will give me little shut eye tonight especially without you here.  I hope I have the right to say a prayer of thankfulness for all these years of good health and a hope to offer this fear up for my children so their health continues as good as mine until the information given tomorrow when I return Kelly’s call.

I’m feeling so worried and fearful. Have always faced the future with no expectations but knowing the future has a finite limit, shorter then ever before, is causing thoughts of what ifs.

I can’t get you out of my thoughts. Every thing I see or feel give me glimpses or breezes of you against my skin.  My dreams are dancing with you, walking with you and holding your hand.  These moments scare me as you are only gone for a few days and yet it feels like a lifetime.  Counting the days until your home and we’re dancing in each others arms to our favorite tunes.

Even though I know where he is and why, I still wonder every minute how his day is going.  Our lives and moments are so intertwined that when we’re apart my mind can think without him zapping into my momentary thoughts.  Love him.

Today – was a life changing decision. Didn’t know what the future held but knew it was right.  Commitment and love is what makes the world go round and he still spins my world and keeps us grounded.

How we see things so differently? When plans are made its rude to back out because something you’d enjoy more comes up.  After being gone for 10 days, a night out to dinner or a trip to the movies might be in order for a couple.  Not understanding how one doesn’t understand.

Seem to be appearing more often the older I get.  I don’t feel I’m better than anyone else but I fail to see the need to look up to very many leaders or men of the cloth.  Respect and extreme faith were instilled in many as a child and many children where hurt and damaged by these runaway demigogary and faith in meer men. Disciples were instucted by Jesus to be fishers of men.  To spread the good news of the bible.  But through politics, like other forms of government, faith and religion became a means to an end. These are just my thoughts but men of the cloth are to be leaders and motivators to Christianity not judge, jury and prosecutor.  I prefer the quiet church where I feel connection with my Lord.  The ten commandments are my law and lifeline.  The  church laws have amended and twisted Gods law.  I do feel my 8 years of Catholic education was more of indoctrination rather than a well rounded education.  Everyday I came home with more fear and more things to fight against.  Children need the religious belief of God but God in faith with life beyond the here and now.  The 7 sacraments were given by God to help us live in Grace not fear. Where did making your Easter duty or not being able to have a Christian BURIAL come from?  Church law or Gods law?  Seems to me that like all political organizations basic laws are expanded to make human intervention by those incharge more relavant.

Jesus welcomes all who believe in the Father.  Who decided that only certain people are welcomed.  It should welcome all sinners as Saint exists only in the afterlife of heaven.  Good men exists but power corrupts unless love and justice exists in each heart.  God Bless the World.

Gallbladder removal is an operation that is done very differently than in 1966.  Since I was in finals, my first year in college, my parents didn’t inform me of mom’s operation until I came home for Christmas and she was still in the hospital.  Her recovery kept her in the hospital over the holiday and left me in charge of my little sister. Dad did the shopping for Christmas and I took my sis to get her haircut.  At our visit to see mom she was upset with the haircut but seeing her in an oxygen tent was much more upsetting to my 6 year old sister and myself. Today one of the first things they do is put the oxygen tubes in your nose and the method of keeping a patient oxygenated is not so dramatic or scarey.  Also the hospital and recovery time is much less.  In fact the the surgery itself is done as an out-patient procedure.  My prayer is for a happy, easy and blessed procedure for my oldest daughter.  Wonder how many gallstones.  My mother had 32 and my sister took them in a jar for show and tell to her classroom after the Holiday vacation.  I’m sure my daughter’s youngest will want to do the same.

Visiting with my little sister one on one.  Forgot how much we really are alike.  She is just sweeter.

By someone you are acquainted with is exciting and at the same time a little sad as you realize you are getting a glimpse into their life.  Enjoyed the book overall.

 

Great for lunch today, national hot dog day.  News said dogs for a dollar.  Small catch, buy a sandwich at regular price then order a dog for a dollar.  Great sales pitch.  Our drive thru was loaded with hot dog lovers.  They are making a killing on National Hot Dog Day.  I have to say.  I got two.  One at $2.99 and the 2nd for the dollar.  And they were great.  This retired couple knows a good deal when they see it.

He asked as he continued to worry about the injury to his thumb.  The car we were following stopped. The driver got out  and came back to our car.  He asked my husband if he wanted them to take me in their car as they could hear my continuous laughing all the way in their car as we were following them to the hospital.  No she’s just enjoying my pain he said.  I started laughing again and repeated his fear that they might be going to put him to sleep over this injury that he thinks is life threating.  I was just reassuring him that you weren’t taking him to the Vet.  And my . hysteria began again as the man smiled and said we would be there in about 20 more minutes. Did he think he could make it.  Yes I smearked.  He can drive with the other hand, as the blood seems to have disappeared from the deadly injury, chuckling and he began to moan.  Ok he said and got back in his car and we followed.  The road was curvy and hilly as we drove back narrow paths in the Smokey Mountains.  Moaning and muttering fears of wrecking the car on these treacherous roads with this painful injury.  My laughing increased in volume with each bump and moan along the drive.  I teased that our vacation was probably over and he would have to fly home to recooperate from this massive infliction.  Funny he said.  Have your fun.  Laugh.  You wouldn’t think it so funny if it were you.  No, this wouldn’t happen to me I know how to handle these things. As we pulled into the parking lot of the Medical Center he got out of the car holding his arm like it had been severed.  We thanked the couple for bringing us here as we would have gotten lost.  He said he was sure all would be well and said he was glad the injury wasn’t worse. Your husband doesn’t handel pain well.  I think it’s fear of how they are going to get the hook out of his thumb.

Something we love to watch together.  Can’t wait till it arrives and you are here to watch it with me.  Amazon says delivery is Monday.  I will wait for you before I play it.

Supernatural with Santana and all his musical guests was absolutely unbelievable. Maybe I will watch this one again tonight.  I remember our oldest grandson seeing it for the first time.  It produced a dance routine that he developed on the spot throughout the length of the DVD at the age of 3.  Wish we had a video of that evening.

 

Getting out of the car, blood on the driveway caught his eye.  As he looked up and down the blacktop there was blood all over, a big pool on the street with large drops leading up the driveway to the garage and continued into the house.  Seeing a bloody fingerprint on the door his heart started beating out of rhythm and he feared what was behind the door in the house.  He’d been gone only a couple hours and everyone was supposed to be on the other side of town at their daughter’s house where he was planning  on going after he’d dropped off some groceries picked up after hitting a bucket of golf balls at the course. What was going on?  Without another thought he opened the door and called out, Janie?  No answer so he yelled out her name again, JANIE?  He heard her name as he screamed, it hit his ears as he saw more blood on the floor leading to the kitchen sink and more blood in the sink on the cupboards, and a knife sitting in a pool of blood on the granite counter.  What has happened? Where is Jane? And what is all this blood?  Setting down his grocery bags he followed the trail of blood leading to the dark and empty family room.  The drapes were pulled closed and the TV was off.  He reached for the fireplace light and then he saw her.  Covered in blood with a dishtowel drenched in blood over her face.  The fear caught in his throat as he approached the recliner that she was laying in and shook her arm. She moaned.  So he shook her again. Trying to sit up and dropping the blood soaked towel he saw the gash in her head above her eye and with her movement blood started spurting again.  She opened her eyes but still looked asleep.  She was dazed. Honey he said, what happened?  She didn’t answer right a way so he nudged her again.

She said she fell.  Then she gave more detail still in a dazed haze.  She said she went out to get the mail at about 2 pm and her foot slipped on something and she stumbled into the street.  Feeling the blacktop scrape onto her forehead and her glasses break and the next thing she remembers was hearing and seeing tires rolling down the street.  She wasn’t understanding what was happening at the time but said she thought she should roll away from the noise of the car.  As she rolled she became aware of the curb and the mailbox.  She got up and reached in the box for the mail. At the same time blood started pouring all over the mail and she realized she must be hurt. Holding her head the blood started to gush, running down her arm onto her clothes even covering her shoe.  She knew she needed to get into the house and call someone before she passed out.  She closed the garage door and ran to the kitchen sink, grabbed a dishtowel and put pressure on the gash that was bleeding.  She picked a knife out of the sink, put there after she cut up a banana for a snack earlier and layed it on the counter.  She started running cold water to clean up her face and put cold pressure on the opening in her head.  She called our daughter and said she couldn’t go over there because she fell and was a little dizzy and afraid to drive.  Our daughter wanted to come over but she said she was fine and that dad went to the store and would be right back.  Not expecting her to be home he went to the golf course along with the store and didn’t return til 5 pm.  She said she was so dizzy she decided to lay down on the recliner and wait for him to return.  She fell asleep for 3 hours and this was the situation that he walked into.

The gash needed stitched from his view plus he was worried she might have a concussion because of her wobbly movements and hazy attitude.  She said no to the emergency room but okayed med-first.  He bundled her up and got her in the car and headed over to River Rd. and the medical clinic.

As they entered the clinic a nurse came over to her and asked him to fill out a report.  She took her back into an examination room and question her.  He first question of course is always, are you afraid at home.  After hearing about this accident they called her husband back.  They weren’t sure about a concussion yet and cleaned out the cut.  The Dr. came in and examined the gash and tried to determine if she had a concussion. Feeling there was no concussion he instructed the nurse to prepare the other room so he could close the gash with a minimum of 10 stitches he estimated.  She was put on a movable cart and the gash was again irrigated and cleaned. Her husband was now very concerned about scaring.  The Dr. assured him that there would be little to none when he was through and it healed.  He then showed the Dr. the scares from the surgery he had from wart removal as a child and the very noticible scars.  He assured him again that needles, stitches and Dr. methods had come along way in 50 years.

After numbing the area around the gash the nurse escorted him out to where he would be more comfortable and not critically watching every stich the Dr. inserted through his wife’s forehead and eyebrow. The Dr. assured her there eould be no pain but probably pressure as he was inserting the needle.  Yes he said 10 stitches.  2 inside and 8 outside closed everything.  He finished and walked over and washed his hands.  The nurse informed her that this might be a little longer as the Dr. was a perfectionist.  He put on another set of gloves and cleaned the area and examined the area again.  He then informed her he was taking out the stitches and starting over again.  He said he had a bit of OCD and felt he could make the stiches a bit smaller and straighter.  Great she thought.  A Dr. with OCD.  Or did her husband worry him about scaring and wanting a plastic sugeon.  Next time she would make him stay in the waiting room and not talk to any Dr. working on her.  So here goes. 10 stitches out and more slowly 10 stiches begin again.  He instucted no water on the area until stiches are removed. Only neosporan and after stitches Vit. E twice a day on tje area.  He said to just buy cheap Vitamins.  Break them open and use.  They left and follow his direction.  Upon returning home the house looked like a scene on Criminal Minds.  All ended well and there is no scar and eybrows grew back in. Just a funny story that happen in this retired couple life.

 

 

 

Do you constantly loose your wallet.  Checked all charges no action.  Your back went out again.

Knowing all this and you the wallet is somewhere unusual.

When did you use it last?  Last charge was Monday.  So you used money between Monday and today.  You got Tacos last night and said they weren’t very good how did you pay? I find backtracking is the best way to find things.  No you said last night you got a piece of pizza at Tic Toc.  Go back and ask if they found it.  Thank goodness the man looked at the video and said you paid with cash that you got from your wallet and put back in you back right pocket. Ok, you had it last night.  Went back home so the wallet is in the car or in the house.  Your mom had you take tee shirts back to the house.  Did you hang them up?

Walk into the house and just peruse the room.  It’s somewhere that you wouldn’t normally set it. Like the back of the couch if you were laying on it last night and it was bothering your back.  So just peruse each room.

Ok you found it.  WHERE?  Sitting on the Hoover sweeper on the garage.  Told you.  Somewhere you would never look.  Peruse is the word.  Not hysterical searching. Glad to know that even 400 miles away I’m still your beacon of normal.

 

Big and empty without you. Worrying about how long this is going to go on.  2 months now half of the summer.  Although you have the time it takes the ticks out of our clock.  Hoping you are taking care of yourself.  Will make our  Dr. Appointment for our annual ck-ups at the same time.

Entered the garage under your mothers car on your watch. Remember your mouse diet.  Now you’re chasing a mouse.  Better get a trap before it gets in the house.

This has to be the 3rd time I’ve seen this movie.  Make up looks so gorgeous in black and white. Not over done but just marking distinctions of eyes and lips.  Lee Remick was beautiful.  So many wishful thoughts that people can think of and become frustrated when thoughts don’t become reality.   Watching people drown themselves in sorrows with drinking is sad.  The toast of together in heaven is a grand toast of a loving couple.  They are not long, the days of Wine and Roses. Nor is love and lovers as reality and responsibilities glare in the morning light.  Moonlight shadows life, truth and paths of the soul and brain and follows the roads of the heart that will soon be blistered when the light of morning streaks in.  So are these Days of Wine and Roses.

 

Is an easy way to get my thoughts out of my way.  My way forward through the day and the day to day musings that constantly rumble through my head.  Like why some days my knee hurts so bad I don’t want to move or especially move it.  Other days there is little pain and then today it’s touch and go. Turn slightly one way and I’m on the floor looking for something to help me up.  I’m sure one of these days getting up will be out of the question.  Need to pick up new cholestoral meds and other drug store finds.  Better get a new knee brace and hope you will be able to be home long enough so I can get this problem fixed.  So hanging on for this trip.

What today holds?  Up at 8 am with nothing special planned. Looking for my fitbit chargers but to no avail.  Stormy day today so not venturing far.  Hoping to find a new couch and chair but not sure what I want yet.  Would like my floors to shine but the effort to do it is far from my will and want to do today.  Many things on my imagined to do list so I could do or I might do , we will see how the day unfolds.

Tonight, food trumps my call.   Got the info you wanted so I called back.  It was quick conversation you must have been starving.  I’m dead tired so off to bed.  70 is right around the corner and the clock is ticking.  Another class mate gone and I’m wondering what number will come up at the next roll of the dice.  If it’s me we’ve wasted a lot of time apart.

I like to be alone.  No one makes demands on me.  I don’t give my opinions so no one judges what I think.  I don’t get in trouble with words.  I can binge watch TV or read unending.  Go to bed or get up when I want and not hear anyone else’s opnions.  Does this make me a loner or a hermit?  Not a good way to be when married. But he likes CNN, golfing and cooking foods I dont eat.  He likes calling congressmen, talking to his brother, washing his car, trading stocks and talking about anything EKU.  These things keep him busy but my unending reading and writing drives him crazy.

Love Madonnas take on marriage. She said a husband stifles her creativity.  But then I think her creativity could use some stifling. I love being with my hubby especially when we can find an activity that we both enjoy.

Because I wonder why kids and people today do the things they do.

Examples:

Tattoos,  harming your skin, not knowing if this could cause skin cancer.  Putting ink under you skin.  Why?

Big Butts:

Why would anyone exercise to get a bigger butt.  This Kardashian fad is going to pass then you’ll be stuck in a timewarp with a oversized back end.

Piercings:

Especially the ones that affect your speech.

 

 

You hear.  Hubby just called to tell me that Victoria is Charlie’s ex-wife.  We are talking about the Y&R soap opera.  Hubby’s mother told him this tidbit and I told him to google it.  No that is not the Richard girl even though mom thinks she’s right.  Thank goodness for google after all these years of mother-in-lawness.  Or is it Mother-in-lawlessness?  Maybe not a word in the dictionary but it is in my life.

Maybe a new color too.  As I look at the pictures taken over the 4th with my family I’m not liking my haircut or the color.  Maybe it’s the makeup that I didn’t put on since I was on vacation.  But I feel I am really starting to look old.  Not into the Joan River stretch your face look but would like to sparkle a little.  Need to see if Sarah is still working at my old salon.

Today is soap opera catch up day. Since 4th of July my routines have been on hold, now, I’m getting back to normal.  Soaps, laundry, oil change, cleaning out closets and whatever else might come up. Retired groom is back taking care of his family responsibilities – mom.  Can’t imagine his thoughts since my parents have neen gone for over 40 years.  Lost them in their prime when they were still my rock.  His mom is losing her stamina and now he has to be her rock.

There it is, the weathered and small tombstone sitting in the back of the cemetery.  Or was it the front of the graveyard in 1899 when he was murdered.

The day was warm and sunny as the fateful weekend in a small town in Western Pennsylvania sitting on the Ohio border began. Breakfast was sizzling on the stove and 3 sleeping kids were beginning to awaken as coffee and bacon aromas were tickling  their noses.  Little did the 11 year old boy know this day would be the end of his youth and his formal education.

The day must have been a weekend, holiday or a Tuesday when the Steelmill would close to re-tool.  At age 29 life was good with a beautiful English/Irish wife, living on Russell Street, working a steady job at Sharon Steel and fathering a son and 2 daughters.  This irishman’s accomplishments were pretty significant by the end of the 1800s on the brink of a new century.

Russell street was a hill road in town that started at Stateline road and traveled downhill to the river. The street housed many Irish families that were immigrants who followed each other across the ocean from the Emerald Isle.   Being Irish/Catholic, children were abundant in the small wooden houses.  Each small plot of land that lined the street held the house, an outhouse, a well with pump, a garden, chickens, goats and cows here and there shared by all for milk, traded by the wives for other necessities that each provided.  Whether these were shanty towns of Irish or the more affluent lace curtain Irish,  they lived here together trying to make a life in this new country they now called home.

This day there was a summer carnival a few miles up the river road East of the city in the farmland that was more often referred to as the sticks.  Later in the day after all chores were done the horse and buggy would be hitched and readied with a picnic lunch,  carrying the family out to the carnival for a day of fun and games with family and friends. But the morning was for the men. Racing horses and betting was the big deal today. How many horses and how much money transferred hands no one knows but it must have been a sum large enough to make many a man dream of changing their lot in life.  For some reason my great-grandfather was selected to collect and hold the purse for the big race.  As to whether all the betters and racers knew each other is only a guess. The men were from farms and small towns surrounding the open fields.  Steelmill workers, farmers, constables and shopkeepers came from far and wide.  Some with money to bet, some with family money and still others using rent and food money that might leave their families homeless and hungry for the month.  Others came with no money in their pockets.  Someone snuck up behind James as everyone was watching the horses line up.  The man with a gun in hand demanded that James hand over the purse.  James refused. Bang. The purse stolen and my great-grandfather laid on the ground, dead.  Many heard the shot. Many saw the man running away after the purse holder fell. Everyone that saw, knew the man running away but didn’t actually see the altercation or the actual murder but knew who did it.  As the day went on and men gave eye witness reports of the shooting and theft, no one saw the gun, or actually saw the man shoot my great-grandfather.

Family members carried the dead man home and the carnival went on for the rest of the community. My great-grandfather was carried home and layed on the couch in the front room.  The parrish priest was called and last rights given. After the shock and tears subsided the women gathered to prepare the body for burial.  The funeral procession took the same road back to the farmland that he took the fateful day, that the end came for one and adulthood came to his son.  He was buried at St. Mary’s Cemetery at the edge of the grave yard that all of his family would reside in over the next two centuries. His cemetary marker sits in the center of modern tombstones that mark a time, a place and an age.

Today I wonder where the man is buried who held the gun that shaped my future.  He lived in my town and everyone knew his name but because no one witnessed the shooting, when he was brought to trial the judge told him to leave town and never return or he would be jailed on sight.  Since I was older when my mother told me this story I didn’t realize I probably attended school with this man’s decendants.  Was justice ever done here? No!

On the day  after the shooting and burial, a young 11 year old boy became the head of his family. School was a thing of tbe past as was baseball and tossing pennies. At 4 am with lunch in hand my grandfather ran about 3 or 4 miles to Sharon Steel Company on the Ohio border and picked up his father’s job that he was no longer here to do.  This young boy picked up his family yoke  and worked at Sharon Steel until the age of 67. During those 56 years he married, raised 2 children had 10 grandchilren and was the most wonderful man and grandfather to those of us who knew and lived with him.  He too is buried in St. Mary’s along with my grandmother,  my other grandparents,  parents, twin sisters and many family and friends.  It’s almost like the streets of town are all here in rows.  St. Mary’s has become home and at some time in the future I too will come home, not far from my great-grandfather who has been holding our place since 1899.

What I find so ironic is that the Irish came to the USA to escape the burtality and genocide of the Potato Famine by the English.  But on that fateful day in 1899 my Irish great-grandfather was shot by an English, in this new homeland.

Tonight I know you were thinking out loud but the thought you were verbalizing shakes me to my core. I wish I could imagine something like this taking place but my home is my refuge, my place of safety and the thought of changing that at my age I am afraid might be devistating not only to my being but also to my health and my soul.

Was the place of interest that we went to today.  The grandsons had never seen a Buffalo and since there is a herd at Fermi,  off we went.

Papa on the golf course.  Good thing his retired bride has sights to see.  My retired groom is not a good grandson cruise director.

Wonder Woman was an overall great movie.  Took 4 grandsons to the movies today during the 91 degree heat of the noon day sun. Unlimited popcorn and icees were their movie fare and all boys agreed that it was a great movie. Was a little worried that there might be an education on how Superboy came into being but the love seen was very well edited for a youngish audience. Would give this movie a two thumbs up.

Every morning to the news that includes such a true worldly but not Godly man stirs the deepest fear in my soul for the future of our country.  Very upsetting that he would stop a wonderful man and past president from receiving a global award is just one example of his ungodlyness.  Pres. CARTER has already gained his wings in my opinion while Trump is just growing a tail and horns.

Not exactly knowing why but feel like there is nowhere to be or go. He has so many other activities and friends that I’m not part of any more.  We travel on different levels and he always wants to be somewhere other than where I’m happy.  Even when we’re enclosed the escape is there. The phone, the radio, road rage, thoughts I can’t keep up with.  I’m becoming afraid as my mind and body isn’t keeping up and my will to, is fading.  I need to get to the Dr.  and find out why this lack of and aversion to caring, is occurring.  Sadness seems to be overpowering me and tears are always behind every blink of my eye.  As I write this I’m a blink away from crying out help me, someone help me.  But help me do what is another question.  I don’t think my reason for being is over, yet there is no fire in my soul to look for tomorrow.  I guess this is the time to tie the knot and hang on.  Hanging on for God to show me the light, the way, or the end.

 

Lakehouse and fireworks. Everyone is heading this way and then on to the lake, the lakehouse and family.  Only 2 will miss it this 4th of July.  Getting 20 together under one roof is a daunting fete but my sister and her hubby have it down to a science.  We are all so thankful for their hard work, love and tons of preparation to keep this family close together if only one long weekend a year.  One grandson and his father are on a boy scout hike a once in a lifetime adventure.  We will miss them so much. I think all are realizing how important this reunion as such has become.  We all go about living our lives without the day to day interplay of our childhoods and creating the closeness that will pull cousins together once their elders are gone.  It’s these times that will be remembered most by newest members when it comes time to say farewell until we meet up again.  Thank you all for coming.  Thank you Sean and Lynne for your dedication to family.

You seem to be helping my back. 10 minutes here and there. Let’s see how it is after a week of this. Maybe a little weight loss on the side. Here’s to hoping.

You are allowed some pleasure on this trip of responsibilities.  So grab a slice of Tip Top and hit a bucket of balls.  Then back for more control.  You’re a good son.

 

I don’t know.  A phone call is a phone call.  I guess the 1st is the most important.

Night without you.  I hope she appreciates the time you give her. I’m a much better person seeing your love knowing I have it too.

Is one of those days that I can’t think of anything to write about other than I miss you.

Is something we love.  Over the years, with my retired groom sleeping in so many 5 star hotels I wanted to make sure our bed was the one that he is most comfortable in. After spending 3 days for a wedding conference at the Broadmoor in Colorado and visiting their bed store I decided to outfit our bed like the one I slept in for 3 wonderful nights.   The purchase of the king bed was the first step and then a down feather bed to put on top of the plush mattress  topped with jersey sheets, a down comforter  a quilt and 6 pillows in various densities. Then to complete the luxe comfort I purchased 24 hotel pillow cases so I can change them twice a week. Above the bed hangs a powerful Hunter fan the spins all year to either circulate the air or provide us with a cooling breeze.  Even after spending a few days on vacation at Hilton’s and Marriott resorts, crawling back into our bed is the best.  Making the bed every morning is quite a fete as we age. There are 13 pillows styling the decor of our bedroom which my RG counts everytime we get ready for bed.  But no matter how comfy the bed when you are away nothing makes the bed as wonderful as when you are here.

Is a very guilty pleasure I partake in while you’re gone.  When your here my ice cream craving is something you always try to talk me out of because I know you worry about my eating habits.  You try to talk me out of all my junk food habits but for some reason ice cream is something that is more of a once in awhile craving.  But today I’m loving my Tin Roof Sundae and will probably leave no evidence of my binging for you to discover.

With Sally Fields, looks like a great movie to spend the rest of my Sunday evening watching.  Was thinking of French Silk Pie but as I was emptying the dishwasher I hit the top of my head on an open cupboard door and blood started gushing.  So now I think driving might not be a good idea until the bit of dizzyness passes.  So the French Silk is out of the question. Will settle for something from the Dairy Queen a little later.  Being without you will have to make me more careful.

And here I am with James Bond. He is good on the eyes but just filling my time while you’re away. Halle Berry is in this one and I love the farfetched idea of the theme. An ice compound, lasers, Bond’s invisible car and of course melting ice and recue of the beautiful girl, sex and romance.  What a way to spend a Sunday afternoon.   Of course now the male appeal.  Two women fighing in sports bras til one is killed.  Bond is now in dier straights but wait James gets an adrenaline surge to save the day. He finds a helicopter in the belly of the plane that is in flames.  Yep helicopter flies them to safety and Money Penny comes in for a kiss and …..oh only a Money Penny dream.  James and Halle in a shack on a island with diamonds on her belly and James counting them.  The End

 

Just aging.  While we are aging the wrinkles tend to appear in more than just our skin.   This is to be the slowing down and enjoyment stage, earned through hard and demanding working years, but an aging parent seems to be in control of this time by manipulative demands on one of this pair. Sadness is my feeling as the presure increases by guilt and time.  Since this affects four, it need to be an open communication amongst all of us as to the best way to proceed. Without joint acceptence in this process our lives will be impacted in ways that will benefit no one, least of all the one at the center of this wrinkle.  Wrinkles need to be softened and respected so as not to irritate, but the right therapy and cream needs to be agreed upon to produced the best results.

Again our relationship continues by phone.  Family obligations separate us.  I call to see where you are on your journey and then you call to let me know your closer to your destination.  You say we need to make more memories and just jump in the car and go away.   You always feel this way when you leave me and we will be all together for the 4th.  Can’t wait. Hope nothing can interupp our family weekend.