Today is a gorgeous spring day, sunny, warm, flowers blooming. It's hard to NOT be in a good mood on such a day. Even with all the shopping I had to do and errands I had to run.
And after yesterday's shopping debacle (looking for jeans and shorts and...um...certain unmentionables) and not finding anything I liked that fit me, and going into a grumpy fit of depression--well, today was indeed a glorious day as I found some of everything! Jeans ordered online, shorts and the other item purchased in-store. So I'm a happy camper.
I brought Koko home a new toy and he was playing with it within minutes of putting it in his cage. That's very gratifying--have had pets in the past that look at the toys you bring them, then look at you as if to say, "Are you nuts? You expect me to play with THAT?" So I'm happy Koko is easily amused.
This will be a working weekend, but it IS a weekend so there will be relaxation also. And NEXT weekend, Mother's Day weekend, I'll go with my daughters to the annual Sheep & Wool Festival, and come home with much new yarn to fawn over. Whoopee! Can't wait. It's my favorite yearly Mother's Day activity.
For all you mothers out there...how do YOU like to celebrate your special day?
Friday, April 30, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Monday Gripes 4/26/10
Today the gripes involve pain. After all, what's more gripe-worthy than being in pain?
I had surgery on a torn rotator cuff back in 2006. Once the doctor got in there with his scope, it didn't look as bad as he thought it would, so he just cleaned up loose and frayed ends and left it at that. You see, apparently if a rotator cuff is only partially torn, the only way to fix it is to cut it completely loose and then sew it back. You can't just sew the torn part, and since there was less tearing than he thought, he hated to cut through still-good tissue.
So. It's been good for some time now, but in the past two months, it's started to bother me again. And I'm afraid surgery on it, again, will be the only thing that will help.
In the meantime, I'm trying to do what I can to ease it, maybe even figure out a way to live with it. But that's difficult, because the pain is there every moment of every day, to one degree or another.
The worst times are when I'm working on the computer (naturally!) and when I'm trying to sleep.
On the computer, I've discovered that sitting in my office chair and stretching my arms out for the keyboard is what does it. Now, my main computer is a laptop, so I can move it around. Thus, I tried sitting on the couch with the computer in my lap. That is SO much better for my shoulder...
...but it's worse for my back. (sigh) I can't sit on the couch all day unless I want to be a cripple when I get up.
So I've tried an alternate solution, sitting in the recliner with the computer in my lap. That works better for my shoulder and the back is okay...but there's no electrical outlet within reach, so I can only work here for as long as the battery holds out.
As for sleeping...there is NO comfortable position. So I flop around every minute or two, until I finally pass out from sheer exhaustion. Once it go to sleep, it either eases up or just isn't enough to wake me, as I do manage to sleep all night. Go figure.
I tried taking Aleve for two or three weeks, but that only upset my stomach and didn't fix the shoulder. The heating pad is nice while it's on, but doesn't have any lasting effect. So, what's next? If it doesn't clear up, I fear a visit to my friendly neighborhood orthopedic doctor may be in store...
Hope you're having a healthier week than me!
I had surgery on a torn rotator cuff back in 2006. Once the doctor got in there with his scope, it didn't look as bad as he thought it would, so he just cleaned up loose and frayed ends and left it at that. You see, apparently if a rotator cuff is only partially torn, the only way to fix it is to cut it completely loose and then sew it back. You can't just sew the torn part, and since there was less tearing than he thought, he hated to cut through still-good tissue.
So. It's been good for some time now, but in the past two months, it's started to bother me again. And I'm afraid surgery on it, again, will be the only thing that will help.
In the meantime, I'm trying to do what I can to ease it, maybe even figure out a way to live with it. But that's difficult, because the pain is there every moment of every day, to one degree or another.
The worst times are when I'm working on the computer (naturally!) and when I'm trying to sleep.
On the computer, I've discovered that sitting in my office chair and stretching my arms out for the keyboard is what does it. Now, my main computer is a laptop, so I can move it around. Thus, I tried sitting on the couch with the computer in my lap. That is SO much better for my shoulder...
...but it's worse for my back. (sigh) I can't sit on the couch all day unless I want to be a cripple when I get up.
So I've tried an alternate solution, sitting in the recliner with the computer in my lap. That works better for my shoulder and the back is okay...but there's no electrical outlet within reach, so I can only work here for as long as the battery holds out.
As for sleeping...there is NO comfortable position. So I flop around every minute or two, until I finally pass out from sheer exhaustion. Once it go to sleep, it either eases up or just isn't enough to wake me, as I do manage to sleep all night. Go figure.
I tried taking Aleve for two or three weeks, but that only upset my stomach and didn't fix the shoulder. The heating pad is nice while it's on, but doesn't have any lasting effect. So, what's next? If it doesn't clear up, I fear a visit to my friendly neighborhood orthopedic doctor may be in store...
Hope you're having a healthier week than me!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Friday Happies 4/23/10
There! That should make anyone happy. :-)
Koko is getting more comfortable in his new home. He moves around easily in his cage now, and has even figured out how to swing on his swing. He plays with his toy now and then, either ringing the bell from underneath or by shaking the colored pieces of wood the bell is attached to.
But his favorite activity seems to be watching the birds outside. We've placed one of the four hooks in the house in front of a glass door, where he can watch the wild birds at the birdfeeders outside. He seems to enjoy it, and chirps and squawks, trying to enter into the conversation.
As for talking to ME...well, he hasn't learned to do that yet. But he does seem to listen intently when I talk to him. I hope soon he'll begin repeating things back...not that he'll know what they mean, but at least he'll know we're communicating.
Hope you have lots of healthy, happy communication with your loved ones on this beautiful spring day!
Friday, April 16, 2010
Friday Happies 4/16/10
Despite the fact that it SNOWED last night (huge, aggrieved sigh) and despite the fact that it's cold and gray and nasty outside, I do have a happy. And here he is:
Koko! He's still getting used to his new home, still a bit flighty (ha, ha) but I think he'll settle in. I'm just happy to have some company again in this lonely house.
Koko! He's still getting used to his new home, still a bit flighty (ha, ha) but I think he'll settle in. I'm just happy to have some company again in this lonely house.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Monday Gripes 4/12/10
I guess my first gripe for today is that I seem to have fewer gripes than I thought I would! But I guess I shouldn't complain about that. Should I?
My second gripe is with someone...the town officials, state head honchos, whoever is in charge of deciding what to do to fix the landslide up the street from us, so the road can be reopened. 'Cause, nothing is happening!
We're lucky that our driveway is on a side street that's still accessible. Unlike our neighbors up the street, who have to drive to the cones, get out of the car, move the cones, drive through, get out of the car, put the cones back, drive away; then reverse when coming home.
The biggest inconvenience for us is that the mailman won't deliver. According to the post office, he is not allowed to exit his vehicle in order to move cones. He can only get out for approved purposes...like bringing a box to your door or something that needs to be signed for. I guess moving cones to go up a closed road doesn't count as approved!
So for the duration, we have to run to the post office daily to get our mail. This wouldn't be bad if this is what we preferred...some people like having a post office box. But we don't have a box, so we can only pick up our mail at the counter, during the limited hours they're open.
Still, it's not much of a gripe, I guess.
My biggest concern today is a worry, not a gripe. Koko the parakeet has been home for 24 hours now and is just sitting in one spot in his cage, not eating or drinking or chirping. I know the move from bird-filled pet store to bird-free new home and new cage is stressful. I just hope he recovers soon! Because I'm not sure how long a tiny little bird can go without nourishment. Do send soothing thoughts Koko's way.
And if any of you out there have parakeets, do you have any tips or tricks for getting him over the adjustment period quickly? All thoughts gratefully accepted!
My second gripe is with someone...the town officials, state head honchos, whoever is in charge of deciding what to do to fix the landslide up the street from us, so the road can be reopened. 'Cause, nothing is happening!
We're lucky that our driveway is on a side street that's still accessible. Unlike our neighbors up the street, who have to drive to the cones, get out of the car, move the cones, drive through, get out of the car, put the cones back, drive away; then reverse when coming home.
The biggest inconvenience for us is that the mailman won't deliver. According to the post office, he is not allowed to exit his vehicle in order to move cones. He can only get out for approved purposes...like bringing a box to your door or something that needs to be signed for. I guess moving cones to go up a closed road doesn't count as approved!
So for the duration, we have to run to the post office daily to get our mail. This wouldn't be bad if this is what we preferred...some people like having a post office box. But we don't have a box, so we can only pick up our mail at the counter, during the limited hours they're open.
Still, it's not much of a gripe, I guess.
My biggest concern today is a worry, not a gripe. Koko the parakeet has been home for 24 hours now and is just sitting in one spot in his cage, not eating or drinking or chirping. I know the move from bird-filled pet store to bird-free new home and new cage is stressful. I just hope he recovers soon! Because I'm not sure how long a tiny little bird can go without nourishment. Do send soothing thoughts Koko's way.
And if any of you out there have parakeets, do you have any tips or tricks for getting him over the adjustment period quickly? All thoughts gratefully accepted!
Friday, April 09, 2010
Friday Happies 4/9/10
I didn't write my usual Monday Gripes this week because Monday was such a beautiful day...warm, sunny, flowers blooming...that I just couldn't think of anything to gripe about! And that's a good thing, something to mention on my Friday Happies page.
Today, alas, is rainy, misty and gray. But that's what makes all those flowers bloom, I keep telling myself. I just hope it doesn't cause another landslide on our road...which has been closed for a week or two since the last one. Sheesh.
Yesterday was Grand Central Station at the bird feeders. I've kept the feeders filled all winter, but rarely saw any birds there. Well, spring has changed all that, apparently.
During the brief two-hour period where I was in sight of the feeders, I saw: pigeons, grackles, starlings, a blue jay, woodpeckers, a goldfinch, juncos, a purple finch, mourning doves, and brown-headed cowbirds. It was a real food fest! They went through the entire block of suet that was out there, and half the seed in the seed feeder.
Also, I've noticed the house wrens have returned to the birdhouse on the side porch and are busy screeching while building this year's nest.
And as if that weren't enough bird news, Koko may get to come home this weekend! When I visited him on Tuesday, they said he had begun to refuse the liquid baby food, so as soon as his weight stabilized on the regular bird food, he could come home. I'm certainly excited about that!
So all this happy bird chirping and watching can't help but make me happy, even on a gray spring day. What spring events cheer you the most?
Today, alas, is rainy, misty and gray. But that's what makes all those flowers bloom, I keep telling myself. I just hope it doesn't cause another landslide on our road...which has been closed for a week or two since the last one. Sheesh.
Yesterday was Grand Central Station at the bird feeders. I've kept the feeders filled all winter, but rarely saw any birds there. Well, spring has changed all that, apparently.
During the brief two-hour period where I was in sight of the feeders, I saw: pigeons, grackles, starlings, a blue jay, woodpeckers, a goldfinch, juncos, a purple finch, mourning doves, and brown-headed cowbirds. It was a real food fest! They went through the entire block of suet that was out there, and half the seed in the seed feeder.
Also, I've noticed the house wrens have returned to the birdhouse on the side porch and are busy screeching while building this year's nest.
And as if that weren't enough bird news, Koko may get to come home this weekend! When I visited him on Tuesday, they said he had begun to refuse the liquid baby food, so as soon as his weight stabilized on the regular bird food, he could come home. I'm certainly excited about that!
So all this happy bird chirping and watching can't help but make me happy, even on a gray spring day. What spring events cheer you the most?
Friday, April 02, 2010
Friday Happies 4/2/10
This is Koko. Is he not gorgeous? He's going to come home with me in a week or two, when he's fully weaned. In the meantime, I'm visiting him as often as I can, to get him used to me. It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and I'm off to another Koko visit. What more could anyone ask?
Hope your weekend is happy, too!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Monday Gripes 3/29/10
Rainy, misty, damp days make me grumpy. And it's been raining all day, with a repeat of the same tomorrow.
People who go postal on me over nothing make me grumpy, especially when they're sweet as pie one second and nasty the next. And they do seem to come in bunches lately.
Not enough money, quite, to ever achieve all of our goals makes me grumpy. How hard and how long do we have to work to have "enough" instead of "not quite enough"?
Rudeness makes me grumpy. Fanatics of any stripe make me grumpy. Bullies make me grumpy. Too many commercials in my favorite TV shows make me grumpy. Dropping a stitch in my knitting makes me grumpy. Burning my toast...well...I guess you could say, "that really burns my toast." Another way to say, it makes me grumpy.
And--you knew it was coming--grumpy people make me grumpy.
So that means I make myself grumpy! Sheesh.
I think it's time to go to bed and just let tomorrow be a new day...
People who go postal on me over nothing make me grumpy, especially when they're sweet as pie one second and nasty the next. And they do seem to come in bunches lately.
Not enough money, quite, to ever achieve all of our goals makes me grumpy. How hard and how long do we have to work to have "enough" instead of "not quite enough"?
Rudeness makes me grumpy. Fanatics of any stripe make me grumpy. Bullies make me grumpy. Too many commercials in my favorite TV shows make me grumpy. Dropping a stitch in my knitting makes me grumpy. Burning my toast...well...I guess you could say, "that really burns my toast." Another way to say, it makes me grumpy.
And--you knew it was coming--grumpy people make me grumpy.
So that means I make myself grumpy! Sheesh.
I think it's time to go to bed and just let tomorrow be a new day...
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday Happies 3/26/10
Big news of the day: I have chosen and reserved my parakeet. He won't be old enough to come home with me for a couple of weeks yet, but I can go see him as often as I want. He has a bluish-green colored chest, blue and black tail feathers, yellow face...I need to take a picture the next time I'm in. I told them his name was "Koko," so they can call him by name and help get him used to it.
He won't be ready to come home for a couple of weeks yet. He's still growing into his feathers! But I was able to hold him, and it went well. He was comfortable checking out my hands and my jacket, while I held him cupped safely against me. Didn't seem to be afraid, which is a good sign.
So that definitely made my Friday happy! And I wanted to share it with you.
He won't be ready to come home for a couple of weeks yet. He's still growing into his feathers! But I was able to hold him, and it went well. He was comfortable checking out my hands and my jacket, while I held him cupped safely against me. Didn't seem to be afraid, which is a good sign.
So that definitely made my Friday happy! And I wanted to share it with you.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Monday Gripes 3/22/10
My intended Friday Happies turned into my Monday Gripes. After much research both on the net and in person, Friday was the day I was going to go to the local bird store to get a parakeet--and then, of course, post about my "happy" on my blog.
I had researched which breed was best for me in my situation; looked into the feeding, housing, and entertainment requirements of the bird. I had visited the bird shop personally as well and interacted with/handled several birds of different breeds.
Finally, my mind made up, I went to the store...and found the bird I had settled on had been sold the day before.
Oy.
That put a crimp in my style. They had another parakeet there, but I didn't care for the colors. And more importantly, it was less friendly. I felt the one I had handled previously was a little more fearless and willing to explore. Having had a parakeet once in my life, many years ago, who was definitely NOT friendly, I wanted to be sure that this time, I got it right. So imagine my disappointment, when I was all psyched up for bird ownership to begin.
But. There are new baby birds there, about four weeks old right now and they should be "ready to adopt" in another three weeks or so. I will go in and visit them in a couple of weeks ("when they look more bird-like," the shop owner said), interact with them, choose one...and most importantly...put down a deposit. That way I know my bird will be waiting for me as soon as he's old enough to come home.
Of course, that requires me to have patience. Something I'm not blessed with in abundance! Hence the griping.
In the meantime, I'm amusing myself with coming up with potential names for the bird. I read that parakeets, when they do learn to talk, can pronounce hard consonants best. So, for example, a name like "Giselle" might not be good if I want little birdie to ever pronounce his name!
If you have any suggestions for names, I'd love to hear them. The parakeet will be some combination of blue and white in color, and hopefully will be a male. (I hear they are more likely to learn to talk than females. No accounting for nature.)
So let me hear those bird names! Looking forward to it.
I had researched which breed was best for me in my situation; looked into the feeding, housing, and entertainment requirements of the bird. I had visited the bird shop personally as well and interacted with/handled several birds of different breeds.
Finally, my mind made up, I went to the store...and found the bird I had settled on had been sold the day before.
Oy.
That put a crimp in my style. They had another parakeet there, but I didn't care for the colors. And more importantly, it was less friendly. I felt the one I had handled previously was a little more fearless and willing to explore. Having had a parakeet once in my life, many years ago, who was definitely NOT friendly, I wanted to be sure that this time, I got it right. So imagine my disappointment, when I was all psyched up for bird ownership to begin.
But. There are new baby birds there, about four weeks old right now and they should be "ready to adopt" in another three weeks or so. I will go in and visit them in a couple of weeks ("when they look more bird-like," the shop owner said), interact with them, choose one...and most importantly...put down a deposit. That way I know my bird will be waiting for me as soon as he's old enough to come home.
Of course, that requires me to have patience. Something I'm not blessed with in abundance! Hence the griping.
In the meantime, I'm amusing myself with coming up with potential names for the bird. I read that parakeets, when they do learn to talk, can pronounce hard consonants best. So, for example, a name like "Giselle" might not be good if I want little birdie to ever pronounce his name!
If you have any suggestions for names, I'd love to hear them. The parakeet will be some combination of blue and white in color, and hopefully will be a male. (I hear they are more likely to learn to talk than females. No accounting for nature.)
So let me hear those bird names! Looking forward to it.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Monday Gripes 3/15/10
Apparently, there's more to this griping thing than just unburdening myself about things that bug me. Sometimes the gripes have power...and in a negative fashion.
Take today, for example. All day long, and indeed all yesterday and the day before, too, it's been raining here. Roads are washed out, basements filling, and still it keeps raining and raining and raining.
This isn't just a warm spring rain. It's a true nor-easter and rivers and ponds everywhere are overflowing their banks.
And the temperature is low...37 degrees here right now...and the winds are wicked. So not only is it wet, it's also cold and miserable.
"Oh, well," I've tried to comfort myself. "At least it's not snow."
You can imagine the rest.
Yup...now it's snowing. (sigh)
Maybe I should complain about how heavy a million dollars is, or gripe about the rudeness of Robert Redford knocking on my door and wanting to meet me. Heck, you never know!
Take today, for example. All day long, and indeed all yesterday and the day before, too, it's been raining here. Roads are washed out, basements filling, and still it keeps raining and raining and raining.
This isn't just a warm spring rain. It's a true nor-easter and rivers and ponds everywhere are overflowing their banks.
And the temperature is low...37 degrees here right now...and the winds are wicked. So not only is it wet, it's also cold and miserable.
"Oh, well," I've tried to comfort myself. "At least it's not snow."
You can imagine the rest.
Yup...now it's snowing. (sigh)
Maybe I should complain about how heavy a million dollars is, or gripe about the rudeness of Robert Redford knocking on my door and wanting to meet me. Heck, you never know!
Friday, March 12, 2010
Mini Friday Happies 3/12/10
I'm happy...I just noticed two purple crocuses pushing their pretty little heads up out of the ground! Yahoo...spring can't be far behind.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Monday Gripes 3/8/10
Ah, it's Monday again. So that must mean it's time to gripe about something! I'm sure I can come up with an issue, griping is never difficult...
Oh yeah, I remember. This gripe is easy. My DH and I were out for a ride on Sunday. We like to travel the back roads, and take our time to enjoy the sights. If someone closes up behind us, we usually pull over and let them pass. Hey, we're polite, and we know what it's like to be stuck behind someone going slower than we want to go.
So, on Sunday, this car was tailgating us. As soon as we could find a good spot to do so, we pulled over to let him by. He passed us, and we resumed our drive.
And then, the guy in front of us slowed down. And slowed. And slowed. Eventually, we're inadvertently tailgating HIM because he's slowed down so much. Clearly, it's a deliberate action on his part as he's going way slower than the road requires.
Now, I confess at this point my DH might have made a rude gesture. :-) But really, it was deserved.
At any rate, this continues for many miles--him slowing down, us fuming behind him. At last we approached a spot where we could pass, and we pulled out to do so...only to have Mister Roadhog pull into the left lane, clearly with the intent to block us from passing, and nearly causing a collision.
As you can imagine, the testosterone was flowing at this point. It was almost palpable. I tried to calm DH down, reminding him that I was too young to die, the guy was an a**hole, and we should just let him go be an a**hole by himself.
Eventually, we came to a stop sign. The guy sat there and sat and sat, combing his hair, looking at us in the mirror, waving. What a twenty-four carat jerk!
He pulled out at last. My DH pulled out right behind him...and made a U-turn to go back the way we had come. So at last, the horrifying event was over, and DH felt that he "won" by refusing to continue to participate. Which is good, as I was sure I was going to die...
So tell me, what the heck is up with this? Why would someone decide to go to war with us, for no better reason than we were nice enough to pull over and let him by?
Sheesh. Sometimes I have no hope for the continued existence of the human race.
Oh yeah, I remember. This gripe is easy. My DH and I were out for a ride on Sunday. We like to travel the back roads, and take our time to enjoy the sights. If someone closes up behind us, we usually pull over and let them pass. Hey, we're polite, and we know what it's like to be stuck behind someone going slower than we want to go.
So, on Sunday, this car was tailgating us. As soon as we could find a good spot to do so, we pulled over to let him by. He passed us, and we resumed our drive.
And then, the guy in front of us slowed down. And slowed. And slowed. Eventually, we're inadvertently tailgating HIM because he's slowed down so much. Clearly, it's a deliberate action on his part as he's going way slower than the road requires.
Now, I confess at this point my DH might have made a rude gesture. :-) But really, it was deserved.
At any rate, this continues for many miles--him slowing down, us fuming behind him. At last we approached a spot where we could pass, and we pulled out to do so...only to have Mister Roadhog pull into the left lane, clearly with the intent to block us from passing, and nearly causing a collision.
As you can imagine, the testosterone was flowing at this point. It was almost palpable. I tried to calm DH down, reminding him that I was too young to die, the guy was an a**hole, and we should just let him go be an a**hole by himself.
Eventually, we came to a stop sign. The guy sat there and sat and sat, combing his hair, looking at us in the mirror, waving. What a twenty-four carat jerk!
He pulled out at last. My DH pulled out right behind him...and made a U-turn to go back the way we had come. So at last, the horrifying event was over, and DH felt that he "won" by refusing to continue to participate. Which is good, as I was sure I was going to die...
So tell me, what the heck is up with this? Why would someone decide to go to war with us, for no better reason than we were nice enough to pull over and let him by?
Sheesh. Sometimes I have no hope for the continued existence of the human race.
Friday, March 05, 2010
Friday Happies 3/5/10
I'm still getting over the loss of Burt. So I'm not entirely happy for my Friday Happies. But I do know Burt would WANT me to be happy, and I'm trying.
One thing that delighted me today was seeing the sun come out, and the temperature rise into the upper 40s. It really felt like spring was just around the corner, and I'm SO ready for spring! I think spring will help me move on, give me something cheerful and warm to focus on.
And I hate to say it, but...TGIF. This weekend will be part distraction--we're celebrating my granddaughter's birthday--and part relaxation and de-stressing. I really need a break. And there's nothing like little arms flinging around me and little voices shouting "Nana!" to cheer me up.
There's also nothing like settling down with a cup of tea, some knitting, and a favorite old movie. When I'm depressed, I like to watch musicals or romantic comedies. They both pull me right out of a funk.
My favorite musicals are "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers," "The King and I," and "West Side Story." Of course, the last two have teary endings...but that can be cathartic, crying over someone else's troubles instead of your own.
And for romantic comedies, give me "French Kiss," or anything with Julia Roberts in it!
What are your favorite ways to indulge yourself and get out of a blue mood? I'm always open to new suggestions!
One thing that delighted me today was seeing the sun come out, and the temperature rise into the upper 40s. It really felt like spring was just around the corner, and I'm SO ready for spring! I think spring will help me move on, give me something cheerful and warm to focus on.
And I hate to say it, but...TGIF. This weekend will be part distraction--we're celebrating my granddaughter's birthday--and part relaxation and de-stressing. I really need a break. And there's nothing like little arms flinging around me and little voices shouting "Nana!" to cheer me up.
There's also nothing like settling down with a cup of tea, some knitting, and a favorite old movie. When I'm depressed, I like to watch musicals or romantic comedies. They both pull me right out of a funk.
My favorite musicals are "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers," "The King and I," and "West Side Story." Of course, the last two have teary endings...but that can be cathartic, crying over someone else's troubles instead of your own.
And for romantic comedies, give me "French Kiss," or anything with Julia Roberts in it!
What are your favorite ways to indulge yourself and get out of a blue mood? I'm always open to new suggestions!
Monday, March 01, 2010
Monday Gripes 3/1/10
My gripes today are more like sorrows, and that's why I didn't post on Friday. We had to have our cat, Burt, put to sleep on Friday, and for the life of me, I couldn't come up with something to be happy about.
Burt was about 12 years old. He was a stray, so we're not sure of his exact age. He started living under our deck the summer of 2000. When we were out on the deck, he'd climb the stairs and jump into our laps and purr, purr, purr. He was such a friendly and sweet little soul. But we already had a dog, so we figured he'd just be a neighbor but not a family member.
Then, the fall began to turn cold. Poor little Burt (yes, we'd already named him, so our fate was already sealed, even though we didn't know it) was shivering and getting skinny. Being the sneaky person I am, I spent time introducing Burt to our dog, Max, out on the deck to see if they were compatible. Max was totally confused about why we'd want to have anything to do with a cat, but he was fine with it if it was what we wanted.
So in November, when the first snowflakes fell, we took Burt in. He was so happy and grateful to be inside. He was the perfect cat...loved to sit on laps and be patted, and also loved to eat! I think that was because he spent time (who knows how much?) living outside on just what he could catch. It took him a long time to realize that now, he would always have plenty of food, a warm house, a lap and many hands to pat him.
Over the past year or so, Burt has begun to have "spells" where he would vomit and not eat. We took him to the vet several times, and they couldn't find anything in particular wrong with him. But since he always got over the spells, we didn't worry too much.
As it turns out, we should have worried, because Burt was developing stomach cancer. In cats it's known as a silent killer, because by the time unmistakable symptoms show up, it's usually too late.
Burt stopped eating last Tuesday night, and wouldn't drink, either. We tried everything, every treat we could find, but nothing worked. He got weaker and weaker, didn't seem to be in much pain, thank goodness, but just fading away. So on Friday, we took him in to be put to sleep. We all went and held him and told him what a wonderful kitty he was, and how much we would miss him. It was quick and went smoothly, but there's a Burt-sized empty spot in my heart now. And my heart was already damaged by the loss of Max in September.
(sigh)
The house sure seems empty, sterile and devoid of life and purpose now...
We miss you, Burt.
Burt was about 12 years old. He was a stray, so we're not sure of his exact age. He started living under our deck the summer of 2000. When we were out on the deck, he'd climb the stairs and jump into our laps and purr, purr, purr. He was such a friendly and sweet little soul. But we already had a dog, so we figured he'd just be a neighbor but not a family member.
Then, the fall began to turn cold. Poor little Burt (yes, we'd already named him, so our fate was already sealed, even though we didn't know it) was shivering and getting skinny. Being the sneaky person I am, I spent time introducing Burt to our dog, Max, out on the deck to see if they were compatible. Max was totally confused about why we'd want to have anything to do with a cat, but he was fine with it if it was what we wanted.
So in November, when the first snowflakes fell, we took Burt in. He was so happy and grateful to be inside. He was the perfect cat...loved to sit on laps and be patted, and also loved to eat! I think that was because he spent time (who knows how much?) living outside on just what he could catch. It took him a long time to realize that now, he would always have plenty of food, a warm house, a lap and many hands to pat him.
Over the past year or so, Burt has begun to have "spells" where he would vomit and not eat. We took him to the vet several times, and they couldn't find anything in particular wrong with him. But since he always got over the spells, we didn't worry too much.
As it turns out, we should have worried, because Burt was developing stomach cancer. In cats it's known as a silent killer, because by the time unmistakable symptoms show up, it's usually too late.
Burt stopped eating last Tuesday night, and wouldn't drink, either. We tried everything, every treat we could find, but nothing worked. He got weaker and weaker, didn't seem to be in much pain, thank goodness, but just fading away. So on Friday, we took him in to be put to sleep. We all went and held him and told him what a wonderful kitty he was, and how much we would miss him. It was quick and went smoothly, but there's a Burt-sized empty spot in my heart now. And my heart was already damaged by the loss of Max in September.
(sigh)
The house sure seems empty, sterile and devoid of life and purpose now...
We miss you, Burt.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Monday Gripes 2/22/2010
I have to say, one of my biggest all-time gripes is people who are rude. Whether it's a speed demon cutting me off in traffic, a store clerk ignoring my request for help, or a teenager's roll of the eyes, it's all rude and impolite, and absolutely unnecessary.
I've never understood how it is that people can treat others so cavalierly, being dismissive or downright insulting, with no consideration for the other person's feelings. Do they get some kind of adrenaline boost out of it? Are they asocial personalities, with no feeling for others at all? Or are they just so narcissistic that they only care about themselves?
The world would be a much better place if people treated each other politely. Can you imagine a war starting if people said, "Oh, you're a Protestant? How interesting! Tell me about your beliefs," or "You need more land? We have a plot over here that's just sitting idle. Do move in!"
That may be a little simplistic, but honestly, if people always treated each other with respect, so many little disagreements would never have the chance to escalate into anything serious.
I've spent my life trying my best to be polite to everyone, regardless of how they treated me. "Take the high road," I told myself. "At least then you have nothing to feel guilty about, no matter how things turn out." And that's true, as far as it went.
Yet, when I'm treated rudely or unfairly, it causes stress and emotional fallout. And I find more and more often I'm asking myself, why should I suffer on the account of someone who clearly has no respect for me?
So I'm venturing one toe into the water of "well-deserved rudeness." I would never treat anyone disrespectfully just because I feel like it. But in the case where someone treats ME poorly first, for no good reason...then, I'm starting to think, all bets are off.
It's difficult to be rude, purposely, after a lifetime of polite. But in some cases, it seems warranted and more, it seems to be the only thing certain people understand.
But that's how wars start. Isn't it? Oy.
I've never understood how it is that people can treat others so cavalierly, being dismissive or downright insulting, with no consideration for the other person's feelings. Do they get some kind of adrenaline boost out of it? Are they asocial personalities, with no feeling for others at all? Or are they just so narcissistic that they only care about themselves?
The world would be a much better place if people treated each other politely. Can you imagine a war starting if people said, "Oh, you're a Protestant? How interesting! Tell me about your beliefs," or "You need more land? We have a plot over here that's just sitting idle. Do move in!"
That may be a little simplistic, but honestly, if people always treated each other with respect, so many little disagreements would never have the chance to escalate into anything serious.
I've spent my life trying my best to be polite to everyone, regardless of how they treated me. "Take the high road," I told myself. "At least then you have nothing to feel guilty about, no matter how things turn out." And that's true, as far as it went.
Yet, when I'm treated rudely or unfairly, it causes stress and emotional fallout. And I find more and more often I'm asking myself, why should I suffer on the account of someone who clearly has no respect for me?
So I'm venturing one toe into the water of "well-deserved rudeness." I would never treat anyone disrespectfully just because I feel like it. But in the case where someone treats ME poorly first, for no good reason...then, I'm starting to think, all bets are off.
It's difficult to be rude, purposely, after a lifetime of polite. But in some cases, it seems warranted and more, it seems to be the only thing certain people understand.
But that's how wars start. Isn't it? Oy.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Friday Happies 2/19/10
I've missed a week with the Gripes and the Happies, due to being out of town with my DH on a Valentine's trip to the White Mountains. Definitely all happy, nothing to gripe about there!
So I'm trying to get back on track.
Happy, happy, happy. Let's see. I'm happy it's Friday! But I guess there's a lot of that going around. What else?
It's a little warmer today, and the snow is melting. After the most recent ten-inch storm, I've decided that it should be against the law for me to have to sing "Let It Snow!" ONE MORE TIME this winter. I love snow; it's pretty and Christmassy and the snowflakes are a marvel of nature's engineering. But enough is enough, already. By the time it hits mid-February, I'm ready for temps in the fifties and crocuses popping up. So today's high of 41 and drip, drip, drip from the roof makes me think spring might actually come. Soon, I hope!
Lately, I'm driving myself crazy trying to figure out what bird I've seen several times on the tree out my front window. I've seen more than one of them, but I suspect they're moving through and not native to this area as I've never seen them before this year.
I love watching birds, and I keep a couple of bird books handy for quick and easy identification when I see a new one. But this time I'm stumped. It LOOKS like an eastern bluebird, perhaps; but the book's description of its eating habits and natural habitat don't sound right. It's a little blue bird about the size of a sparrow, with a red breast and white tummy. Any guesses from bird experts out there?
Birds are such delicate creatures. I don't know how they survive brutal winters without turning into little birdie popsicles. I try to keep food out for them, but I know their lives must be harsh.
I remember once hearing a bang coming from the direction of our sliding glass deck door. I looked out and there was a small finch lying on the deck. I was so afraid he'd killed himself by flying into the glass door.
I picked him up and held him, and I could feel his heart beating. Good sign; he wasn't dead. I pulled out one wing to examine it, then the other, then turned him over to check his feet. They all seemed to be in good shape, as far as I could tell. No blood, no obvious wounds.
So I just held him in my hands, keeping him warm. (It was a chilly autumn day.) I hoped against hope that he'd just stunned himself and would recover, given time.
And sure enough, in a few minutes, he seemed to be coming out of his daze. He realized where he was--in the hands of a giant--and started to flap his wings. I opened my hands and he flew/skittered across the deck floor. After a minute, he hopped up onto the railing and flew away.
That was one of the most special moments of my life--holding one of God's tiniest living creatures in my hands, and playing some small part in helping it recover from a trauma. I've always remembered that with a smile.
So, whatever those blue birds are, it doesn't matter...they bring me joy. And that's what counts, right?
So I'm trying to get back on track.
Happy, happy, happy. Let's see. I'm happy it's Friday! But I guess there's a lot of that going around. What else?
It's a little warmer today, and the snow is melting. After the most recent ten-inch storm, I've decided that it should be against the law for me to have to sing "Let It Snow!" ONE MORE TIME this winter. I love snow; it's pretty and Christmassy and the snowflakes are a marvel of nature's engineering. But enough is enough, already. By the time it hits mid-February, I'm ready for temps in the fifties and crocuses popping up. So today's high of 41 and drip, drip, drip from the roof makes me think spring might actually come. Soon, I hope!
Lately, I'm driving myself crazy trying to figure out what bird I've seen several times on the tree out my front window. I've seen more than one of them, but I suspect they're moving through and not native to this area as I've never seen them before this year.
I love watching birds, and I keep a couple of bird books handy for quick and easy identification when I see a new one. But this time I'm stumped. It LOOKS like an eastern bluebird, perhaps; but the book's description of its eating habits and natural habitat don't sound right. It's a little blue bird about the size of a sparrow, with a red breast and white tummy. Any guesses from bird experts out there?
Birds are such delicate creatures. I don't know how they survive brutal winters without turning into little birdie popsicles. I try to keep food out for them, but I know their lives must be harsh.
I remember once hearing a bang coming from the direction of our sliding glass deck door. I looked out and there was a small finch lying on the deck. I was so afraid he'd killed himself by flying into the glass door.
I picked him up and held him, and I could feel his heart beating. Good sign; he wasn't dead. I pulled out one wing to examine it, then the other, then turned him over to check his feet. They all seemed to be in good shape, as far as I could tell. No blood, no obvious wounds.
So I just held him in my hands, keeping him warm. (It was a chilly autumn day.) I hoped against hope that he'd just stunned himself and would recover, given time.
And sure enough, in a few minutes, he seemed to be coming out of his daze. He realized where he was--in the hands of a giant--and started to flap his wings. I opened my hands and he flew/skittered across the deck floor. After a minute, he hopped up onto the railing and flew away.
That was one of the most special moments of my life--holding one of God's tiniest living creatures in my hands, and playing some small part in helping it recover from a trauma. I've always remembered that with a smile.
So, whatever those blue birds are, it doesn't matter...they bring me joy. And that's what counts, right?
Monday, February 08, 2010
Monday Gripes 2/8/10
I know I'm not the only one with THIS gripe. Many of my favorite shows are on ABC. Come December, they disappeared. "Well," I told myself, "it's just because of the holidays and all the holiday movies and specials. They'll be back come January."
January came...and went. Most of those shows haven't returned. Heck, "Lost" didn't even start the season until February. Oy! And other shows are returning at the end of March...or later.
What's up with that?
It's not like there's a writer's strike this year. So what's their lame excuse? Are other networks doing this as well, or only ABC?
All I can hope is that this means they'll continue showing new episodes well into summer. Hmmpfff.
Another thing that bothers me is that no one writes letters anymore. I'm as guilty of that as the next person, I confess. Since the invention of the personal computer, people have been getting farther and farther away from the pen and paper. I'm not even sure anyone could read my handwriting anymore. (sigh)
Now, I know it's easier to pop open an e-mail program and type a note, or open up that IM box and "chat" away. But those things are ephemeral and once you close the box, it's gone. (Or once your computer crashes.)
I remember writing love notes to my then-boyfriend (now husband) and using scented stationery. I remember shopping for stationery, and there were lots of choices: floral and opulent, cream-colored and official-looking, or dotted with terminal kitten cuteness. I always had two or three boxes on hand and chose based on who I was writing to.
And when I received a letter...oh, that was special. I'd get a cup of tea, sit down in a comfy chair, and open the letter. What news would it contain? Questions for me to answer in my next letter? Jokes? Sad tales?
After reading it, I could save it in my desk drawer, to read and reread whenever the fancy struck me. Something permanent and real, to hold onto, something that symbolized a relationship between two people.
I guess I've talked myself into it...I'll have to go write someone a letter!
January came...and went. Most of those shows haven't returned. Heck, "Lost" didn't even start the season until February. Oy! And other shows are returning at the end of March...or later.
What's up with that?
It's not like there's a writer's strike this year. So what's their lame excuse? Are other networks doing this as well, or only ABC?
All I can hope is that this means they'll continue showing new episodes well into summer. Hmmpfff.
Another thing that bothers me is that no one writes letters anymore. I'm as guilty of that as the next person, I confess. Since the invention of the personal computer, people have been getting farther and farther away from the pen and paper. I'm not even sure anyone could read my handwriting anymore. (sigh)
Now, I know it's easier to pop open an e-mail program and type a note, or open up that IM box and "chat" away. But those things are ephemeral and once you close the box, it's gone. (Or once your computer crashes.)
I remember writing love notes to my then-boyfriend (now husband) and using scented stationery. I remember shopping for stationery, and there were lots of choices: floral and opulent, cream-colored and official-looking, or dotted with terminal kitten cuteness. I always had two or three boxes on hand and chose based on who I was writing to.
And when I received a letter...oh, that was special. I'd get a cup of tea, sit down in a comfy chair, and open the letter. What news would it contain? Questions for me to answer in my next letter? Jokes? Sad tales?
After reading it, I could save it in my desk drawer, to read and reread whenever the fancy struck me. Something permanent and real, to hold onto, something that symbolized a relationship between two people.
I guess I've talked myself into it...I'll have to go write someone a letter!
Friday, February 05, 2010
Friday Happies 2/5/10
My happiest event of the day today was meeting my husband for lunch. Friday is always my "grocery stock-up" day, and it's anything but fun. Plus, it delays when I can get my "real" work done by carving out the highest-energy portion of the day. And Dan, of course, is in the middle of yet another long workday. So we meet for lunch, and it gives us something to look forward to and a chance to debrief a little.
Today we went to Taco Bell. It's one of my favorites, because I'm a vegetarian. It's tough to eat at any fast-food restaurant if you're a vegetarian, in this burger-is-king culture. But at Taco Bell, I can order *anything* on the menu and just ask for beans instead of meat. Simple! And don't think they don't know it...I saw a sign up today reminding people that during Lent, they can get any item made without meat.
My second happy of the week was Groundhog Day. Now, I know that good old Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, so that means six more weeks of winter. And I have to say, are you really surprised? At least in our neck of the woods, spring never comes this early.
But for many years, I've been a fan of the movie "Groundhog Day," with Bill Murray. I especially enjoy the scenes at Gobbler's Knob, when the groundhog is pulled out of his burrow and, with much pomp and circumstance, foretells six more weeks of winter.
So imagine my surprise when this year, I went to the Reuter's website to see what Phil had predicted, and found a video of the event. I viewed the video, and it's almost a carbon copy of the movie. I was so excited! I've watched it three or four times and now, I really have to watch the movie again.
Have you had any surprises or unexpected little tidbits of info about your favorite movies? Do share!
Today we went to Taco Bell. It's one of my favorites, because I'm a vegetarian. It's tough to eat at any fast-food restaurant if you're a vegetarian, in this burger-is-king culture. But at Taco Bell, I can order *anything* on the menu and just ask for beans instead of meat. Simple! And don't think they don't know it...I saw a sign up today reminding people that during Lent, they can get any item made without meat.
My second happy of the week was Groundhog Day. Now, I know that good old Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, so that means six more weeks of winter. And I have to say, are you really surprised? At least in our neck of the woods, spring never comes this early.
But for many years, I've been a fan of the movie "Groundhog Day," with Bill Murray. I especially enjoy the scenes at Gobbler's Knob, when the groundhog is pulled out of his burrow and, with much pomp and circumstance, foretells six more weeks of winter.
So imagine my surprise when this year, I went to the Reuter's website to see what Phil had predicted, and found a video of the event. I viewed the video, and it's almost a carbon copy of the movie. I was so excited! I've watched it three or four times and now, I really have to watch the movie again.
Have you had any surprises or unexpected little tidbits of info about your favorite movies? Do share!
Monday, February 01, 2010
Monday Gripes, 2/1/10
I was reminded today of a catastrophic misspelling (the offender shall remain nameless) that really sets my teeth on edge. It's an adverb that's defined as "without much doubt, seems reasonably true."
The word is "probably," and as you may guess, it comes from the word "probable."
What really drives me batty is when people spell it "prolly." Oy! My only guess about this flagrant misspelling is that those people are spelling it phonetically--and "prolly" is the way they pronounce it.
(Suitable interval while Liz faints from the pain of it all, falls to the floor with a thud, slowly reawakens, shakes her head and staggers to her feet)
Oh. My. God. Please people, please, the word is PROBABLY. Pronounce and spell it right, and you'll add years to my life. I swear.
Okay, I feel better now that I've gotten that off my chest!
My second gripe for today is my own failing memory. I suppose everyone forgets things now and then; it's only human. And as we get older, we tend to forget more than we used to. (For instance, we forget what it feels like to be able to do a hundred sit-ups in a row. Seriously.)
What really irritates me is when I forget things that have a timely nature to them, i.e., a doctor's appointment, a phone call that needs to be made, when the post office closes. It's not so much that I forget them that bugs me, but that I remember them when it's too late to do anything about it but smack my forehead and swear.
What, exactly, is up with that?
I mean, if I'm going to forget I have a doctor's appointment until it's too late to go, why remember it then? I'd be much happier, if I have to forget, then to never remember at all. Because you see, remembering too late creates guilt and stress, something that's bound to only make me forget even more things.
So that's my request of my own peculiar gray matter: either do your job with one hundred percent efficiency (okay, I'll take ninety), or just forget about it. Tell me, is that too much to ask?
The word is "probably," and as you may guess, it comes from the word "probable."
What really drives me batty is when people spell it "prolly." Oy! My only guess about this flagrant misspelling is that those people are spelling it phonetically--and "prolly" is the way they pronounce it.
(Suitable interval while Liz faints from the pain of it all, falls to the floor with a thud, slowly reawakens, shakes her head and staggers to her feet)
Oh. My. God. Please people, please, the word is PROBABLY. Pronounce and spell it right, and you'll add years to my life. I swear.
Okay, I feel better now that I've gotten that off my chest!
My second gripe for today is my own failing memory. I suppose everyone forgets things now and then; it's only human. And as we get older, we tend to forget more than we used to. (For instance, we forget what it feels like to be able to do a hundred sit-ups in a row. Seriously.)
What really irritates me is when I forget things that have a timely nature to them, i.e., a doctor's appointment, a phone call that needs to be made, when the post office closes. It's not so much that I forget them that bugs me, but that I remember them when it's too late to do anything about it but smack my forehead and swear.
What, exactly, is up with that?
I mean, if I'm going to forget I have a doctor's appointment until it's too late to go, why remember it then? I'd be much happier, if I have to forget, then to never remember at all. Because you see, remembering too late creates guilt and stress, something that's bound to only make me forget even more things.
So that's my request of my own peculiar gray matter: either do your job with one hundred percent efficiency (okay, I'll take ninety), or just forget about it. Tell me, is that too much to ask?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)