Thursday, November 29, 2018

T13


salt water

Salton Sea

sea salt

salt sea

salt of the earth

basalt rock

rock salt

table salt

salty dog

salt and pepper

saltpeter

somersault

salt mine



T13

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

even in the midst of awful, there is usually beauty




This is what met me this morning when I looked out the window
not exactly what I had planned for


and this is 8 inches of pretty fluffy WET snow


on top of 4 inches from yesterday

however it does have a certain archtectural purity about it


to the point where I'm not even sure what it is any longer 
but ain't it interesting...


and just for the heck of it, this is what my spiffy new counter 
looks like as a work station 
what's really cool is under that counter is a wonderful woodbox 
area that is working better than I thought it might...

However, I have put a protest in to the weather gods that it's not even December yet and we have already had a foot of  snow.  Oh, I can hardly wait for January.   



Saturday, November 24, 2018

Highs and Lows



I was diagnosed with hypoglycemia when I was seven: I  had my first attack during Mass, after fasting for 12 hours (and no kid should be expected to fast that long for anything short of major surgery) the way "real adults" did for Communion.  Hot and cold sweats,  in the middle of an unheated  church here's this little kid taking off her coat and putting it back on, and the next thing I know Im being frog marched, grey-faced,  out the church with Sister Mary Arthur and my mother saying, "what happened?"

After that I got to eat a small breakfast on Sunday (oy, the private pleasures of a dispensation from the Bishop) before Mass...

It's part of diabetes, but not necessarily a symptom.  I found out it can live on its own, quite nicely.  Of course, my mother came from a good solid French Canadian family, so packing the kids with food like a portable lunch box was second nature to her.

The real problem arises when you are with someone who doesn't get what you're saying, as in, "I think I need to eat now" and they say "okay, let's make reservations.".   No. I mean NOW, and give me that cookie.  It also makes you testy.

 I was thinking about this today, when I was casting about for something to eat for lunch and my husband said, "I should think you'd KNOW when you're hungry..."  and I realized that I don't ever want to get to the rumbly stomach phase of hungry.  I can't. By then, I'm probably going to be out cold.    We have to gauge how we feel, how 'empty',  how cranky, how slightly fuzzy headed.

My biggest fear at this age is going into one of these in the supermarket and waking up as the EMTs  hook me up to an IV and a heart monitor, when all I really need is a handful of M&Ms...😰

Friday, November 23, 2018

Thought for Black Friday


There has been so much hype, so many in-yo'-face ads on TV, on the net, in flyers, mention of record breaking crowds,  door buster specials,--and hard on the heels of that folks with a private and scary axe to grind taking it out on stores in general,  what if they threw a Black Friday







and everyone stayed home..."we'll go tomorrow once the crowds clear out..."

Thursday, November 22, 2018

And the winner is...

Sometimes you go with your gut--I had little to no interest in heading north to a dinner today, especially since last year my husband ended up in the hospital  up there (one of the less appealing hospitals I have seen, frankly)...turned out it wasn't serious, but it was scary. 

Anyhow. I got up this morning and the fires were down, that's normal;  stoked them up a bit and went out on the porch to get some wood and thought, my GOODNESS it's breezy out here, and the thermometer read -10.  Looked at it three times and it still said -10.    Annnnd we have a good 8-10 inches of snow all over everything. 

The good news is, we don't have to leave.  Just stay home, stoke the fires, and putter slowly. 

Life is good, sometimes.

Sunday, November 18, 2018

Turkey day reprieve for mr. and mrs. Curmudgeon

oh happy happy joy joy
my husband decided that this year for Thanksgiving we are staying home
It's a long ride (1 1/2 hours each way) and with 6 little kids, two yippy dogs,  and probably 15 adults, it becomes bedlam very quickly. 
I love them all, but not this year, not when it's this cold.

It's his relatives, so I left it up to him,  and now I can put away my butter roll recipe. he he he.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

In other words...thursday 13


straw warts

pacer recap

strap parts

star rats

sprat tarps

knits stink

stops  spots

reward drawer

drab bard

pupils slipup

dairy diary

smart trams

remit timer



newthursday13



Sunday, November 11, 2018

November 12 1994


Twenty-four  years ago tomorrow I was planning on being in a murder mystery play called "Death By Chocolate" put on by a local theater group.  I had a cold and a vicious cough, but I wanted to do this badly. 

That night it was cold, snowy, and I was determined (hacccckkk hackkkk gasssppppgassspp) to go.  Got into town and could not find the building; never having been there I wasn't even sure what it looked like.  I felt dreadful. 

Turned around, finally, and came home.  By 9 that night I was having to stand up and bend over to cough, and I was so sick I didn't even want a cigarette.  A new walk-in clinic had just opened up and I told my husband I think we need to get me there.   These were the days  before emergency room walk ins. 

The nurse took one look at me, said, take a deep breath.  "urk".   "I'll be right back," she said, and came back with three prescriptions and a 'starter kit" for the night.  "you have fluid around the lungs. Walking pneumonia, basically.  Go home, give up smoking, and you'll be fine."

For three weeks I slept at the kitchen table with a blanket wrapped around me and a pillow on the table, and I considered my options.  My biggest fear as a smoker had finally come home.  So I quit.  Did it in manageable bites.  Played games with it.  I had smoked for 32 years, so I made my first goal 32 hours.  Second goal, 32 days.  Next one, 32 weeks.  By then I was sailing, and I knew I'd made it. 

The key, for me, was not talking about it to anyone. Not even my husband.  When you do that, you build up all the juices that go into drinking, or smoking, or whatever you're trying to give up. The brain says, oh, man, let's have just one...He didn't mention it until the next spring, and then he sort of snuck up on it.  By then, it was okay.

24 years later, and Im still okay.  But every now and then when my guard is down,  I get that urge...

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

oh, please


Yesterday I ("dear friend") received a two page "letter' from our Republican Senator wannabe's wife.  Nicely worded, nicely typed, nice use of script font.    She stressed his family devotion, how his face lit up when he smiled, and how she got all wiggly inside (my words not hers) when he first looked at  her and smiled. 
How wonderful a daddy he was. 

This was a girl-to-girl letter, and I know it was meant to impress me as a female that he was just the man for the job.  Navy Vet,  lawyer.  Police Chief. 

Not a WORD about his affiliation, or his voting record, or his political leanings.  After all, the cynic in me purrs,  what woman would be interested in all THAT? 

And today I go out to vote elsewise.  Im sure he's a lovely man, good to dogs and kids and old ladies, but not this time, Im afraid. 

Saturday, November 3, 2018

'Tis time

Tonight we swap the clocks out,  and I can assure you  no one is more pleased about this than my big old oofy cat, charlie, who gets up when I do and insists that dark is not a problem, and I insist that I have no wish to see him (or hear him) being consumed by a coyote, fisher cat, or whatever is out there that eats cats.

The house rule is, if I can't see the trees, he doesn't go out.

Enough, already


this occurred to me months ago when the first school shootings happened, and I keep thinking of it, every time another mall, or drive in, or church is attacked:  less publicity means less copycat crimes.

Years ago if a child committed suicide, one of the things the local papers did, was play it down.  sometimes not even mention cause of death for several days.  It was a policy among news people that suicides and out of control killers  would go unrecorded for a certain length of time, to keep other people from thinking,  "hey, I could do that too". 

I just get this image of  gun soaked Angry Men watching the videos, and the news, and the flashing lights and sirens and thinking, "oh wow. That is so cool...I'm gonna get me some ammo..."

It isn't news, it's pandering.  It's drawing readers, but since anyone, anywhere, can read this stuff online, you now get the news from all over the country, where before it was mostly local and brief. 

Too much information, and too many vulnerable people reading about it.