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I have my old sewing machine which is broken, and my former mother-in-law's, which is also broken. So Steve surprised me with a new one two days ago, because I want to make some curtains.
I just sat down to set it up. Now I'm remembering my high school aptitude testing which told us that while I was on the bright side, I should stay away from machines forever. I was in the 20% range, as in I had no clue as to 80% of what I was asked about machines. My chart had a slightly wiggly line ranging between 95 and 100, except for the deep gash at mechanical skills. It was like a red arrow pointing down that said, "she's really stupid at this stuff."
There were a few phrases in the machine's instruction booklet that left me sweaty and broken. "Feed dog" was first. Then tension, shuttle cover, clamp screw, shuttle vase, spool pin, presser foot and electric shock! I'm so scared now that I want to just board up my windows... screw the curtains!
After being near tears for an hour, and now able to think in only monosyllabic words, I got the dang thing threaded. But will it sew, or jam and break? I'm almost afraid to try it. The only thing I felt confident with was when I found the plug and plugged it in. Nothing blew up anyway.
Inside the base, which only took me 25 minutes to pry open, having to first realize it had bright blue tape (which for some reason was invisible to me) sealing it shut, I found a small bag of sewing accessories. There are 11 pieces. I identified three bobbins - hey I know what a bobbin is!! - two packs of needles (which I never plan to use since it would mean having to install them - no way) and all the rest was alien stuff which I have no intention of even looking up to identify. I want to sew straight lines only.
So now I'm sitting across from it, looking at it as though it was about to attack me. I can only see the back, which isn't quite as scary. The knobs are on the front, the ones that I have no clue as to what they're for. But I am not about to let this hunk of plastic and metal get the best of me. And I absolutely cannot let Steve know how terrified I am, of a machine.
I AM going to do this, and I'll let you know when it happens. Just don't wear our your current wardrobe waiting for me.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Sweet Dreams
I've been asleep for twenty years! No wait, I mean it. If I've slept about 8 hours per day over my lifetime, then I've been asleep for 20 years, because I'm 60. 1/3 of my life. No wonder my mattresses have worn out.
Of course, there's this too. I've actually been awake for only forty years, so from now on when people want to know how old I am, I'll simply say I've been walking around this earth for 40 years, and leave it at that. They can think what they will. (Wait, they might look at me and think, "Egads, she's aged poorly.")
Why do we sleep anyway? And why do we wake up? Hey Moms, have you ever slept through a violent thunderstorm, but awakened at the sound of your baby softly crying? Clearly it's not the level of noise, but the need for us somehow. And where do we go when we're asleep? How on earth did I climb that mountain without boots on, and how did I fall off that cliff without dying? Dreams are amazing. Some dreams are so vivid, and wonderful ... even scary. So I guess my brain's still busy processing signals even when I'm "out." Clearly, it's not under my own control, or choice.
And how is it that some birds can migrate or fly for days on end without stopping to sleep, and some animals can hibernate or sleep for weeks without starving to death, but we humans tend to/have to keep a repeating 24 hours schedule? Except for babies and college students, of course. They're all insane.
I wish I knew where I went during my dreams. Or maybe it's best I not know. Might be too scary. For now I like my awake dreams the best. You know, the ones where I don't have cancer, I work all day without wearing out, I'm nice to everyone, that sort of thing. Dreams can make us wake up each day and desire to keep going. I do, I do desire to keep going, even when I must sleep 11 hours each night, I still have cancer, I act like a jerk, and my left thumb is so sore it would feel better to cut it off.
So, today I plan to not sleep anymore (till next time) and do this amazing thing: I'm going to plan and lay out exactly where to put my brand new GREENHOUSE that Steve bought for me yesterday. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd already died and gone to heaven.
Of course, there's this too. I've actually been awake for only forty years, so from now on when people want to know how old I am, I'll simply say I've been walking around this earth for 40 years, and leave it at that. They can think what they will. (Wait, they might look at me and think, "Egads, she's aged poorly.")
Why do we sleep anyway? And why do we wake up? Hey Moms, have you ever slept through a violent thunderstorm, but awakened at the sound of your baby softly crying? Clearly it's not the level of noise, but the need for us somehow. And where do we go when we're asleep? How on earth did I climb that mountain without boots on, and how did I fall off that cliff without dying? Dreams are amazing. Some dreams are so vivid, and wonderful ... even scary. So I guess my brain's still busy processing signals even when I'm "out." Clearly, it's not under my own control, or choice.
And how is it that some birds can migrate or fly for days on end without stopping to sleep, and some animals can hibernate or sleep for weeks without starving to death, but we humans tend to/have to keep a repeating 24 hours schedule? Except for babies and college students, of course. They're all insane.
I wish I knew where I went during my dreams. Or maybe it's best I not know. Might be too scary. For now I like my awake dreams the best. You know, the ones where I don't have cancer, I work all day without wearing out, I'm nice to everyone, that sort of thing. Dreams can make us wake up each day and desire to keep going. I do, I do desire to keep going, even when I must sleep 11 hours each night, I still have cancer, I act like a jerk, and my left thumb is so sore it would feel better to cut it off.
So, today I plan to not sleep anymore (till next time) and do this amazing thing: I'm going to plan and lay out exactly where to put my brand new GREENHOUSE that Steve bought for me yesterday. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd already died and gone to heaven.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Failure Leads to New Things
My back yard is so lush I feel like we live in Eden. After a dry summer, we've now had rain. The deck plants are voluminous. My scraggly little geranium, which is years old (it winters inside) is huge, and dripping with bright pink blooms. The three ferns are massive green mounds that show new shoots almost daily. The arboricola is nearly doubled in size. I could go on, and that's just the deck!
I might have to trim back some large branches on trees overhanging too close to the deck, or else we'll never get out the back door again. It's less sunny there now, but how nice that is on hot summer days.
A walk through the yard reveals hundreds of dead branches, blown down in storms. "Self-pruning trees." Love it! Unfortunately, some ground covers have not fared well, since the previous winter storms left packed snow and ice that destroyed most of them. And yes, I'm only now getting to the clean up. Oh well, I'll plant again. Still, a few peep up and might survive.
I thought of Dad yesterday, and how he "made" me work in his garden. Thank God for that! I learned. What I've grown in my life is a pittance of what he probably did in one year as a nurseryman and landscaper. Of course, he had that rich dark brown Ohio soil, and I have... red clay nicely mixed with sand. (Don't clay and sand make concrete?)
Some days I'll get my big ol' shovel, pick a spot, set the blade in the ground, and jump on it with all my might to sink it deep into the earth. It goes in about 1/2" and I fall on the ground. Of course, the roots from a zillion trees nearby don't help. Either I'm a fairy, or this soil is not happy to give in to me. I do it every year, always hoping to do better.
Last year's veggie garden (full of garden center bagged soil and my mulched dead leaves) gave us tons of cherry and heirloom tomatoes, green beans, strawberries, cucumbers and more. It's in my only sunny spot: 4' x 8'. This year's total take has been 3 tomatoes (not plants, just 3 tomatoes!) and one tiny 'lope. Seriously. Other than a heat wave, me lying in bed on drugs half the time, and who knows what else...oh wait, that's enough to cause failure.
So this year I'm doing my first ever fall garden. Already researched what to plant, have a call in to the garden center - I'm ready to go. Carrots, onions, cabbage, cauliflowers and more - here I come!
I might have to trim back some large branches on trees overhanging too close to the deck, or else we'll never get out the back door again. It's less sunny there now, but how nice that is on hot summer days.
A walk through the yard reveals hundreds of dead branches, blown down in storms. "Self-pruning trees." Love it! Unfortunately, some ground covers have not fared well, since the previous winter storms left packed snow and ice that destroyed most of them. And yes, I'm only now getting to the clean up. Oh well, I'll plant again. Still, a few peep up and might survive.
I thought of Dad yesterday, and how he "made" me work in his garden. Thank God for that! I learned. What I've grown in my life is a pittance of what he probably did in one year as a nurseryman and landscaper. Of course, he had that rich dark brown Ohio soil, and I have... red clay nicely mixed with sand. (Don't clay and sand make concrete?)
Some days I'll get my big ol' shovel, pick a spot, set the blade in the ground, and jump on it with all my might to sink it deep into the earth. It goes in about 1/2" and I fall on the ground. Of course, the roots from a zillion trees nearby don't help. Either I'm a fairy, or this soil is not happy to give in to me. I do it every year, always hoping to do better.
Last year's veggie garden (full of garden center bagged soil and my mulched dead leaves) gave us tons of cherry and heirloom tomatoes, green beans, strawberries, cucumbers and more. It's in my only sunny spot: 4' x 8'. This year's total take has been 3 tomatoes (not plants, just 3 tomatoes!) and one tiny 'lope. Seriously. Other than a heat wave, me lying in bed on drugs half the time, and who knows what else...oh wait, that's enough to cause failure.
So this year I'm doing my first ever fall garden. Already researched what to plant, have a call in to the garden center - I'm ready to go. Carrots, onions, cabbage, cauliflowers and more - here I come!
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Park 51
Man, those Muslims... What are they trying to do? Oh right, they're planning to build a mosque near the former World Trade Center. Except it's more a community center than a mosque. The top 2 floors will be for worship; the rest will be open to all comers. A basketball court and culinary school will be there. Cooking and throwing hoops, how radical and non-Christian is that!? Geez. The building's been abandoned for nearly ten years; how nice to have the space put to some use again.
It's to be called Park 51. Sounds so "New Yorky" and not at all "Muslimy." And it's location is actually 4 blocks away by foot (2 as the crow flies) and out of sight of the former WTC. So what's the big deal? Oh yeah, some people like to hate Muslims, I forgot. They're not usually white, and they're not "us." Give me a break. Racism against non-whites is still racism, and still ugly.
I forgot that Muslims are the ones involved in this current war my nephew is now stuck in. You know, the one where we went to support the citizens - the Muslim citizens - against Hussein and his terrorists. So... our loved ones are fighting to help, and dying for our enemies? Am I an idiot, or are some Muslims actually our friends there?
Do you know religious Muslims believe Jesus was born of Mary via a virgin birth? Yes, really. And their Bible includes the gospel books, and they believe He ascended into heaven, but dispute that he died on the cross. In fact, Muslims and Christians have a few things we believe in common, but a lot we don't agree on. I don't know that much about the Muslim faith, but it takes little actual reading to know they needn't be our enemies.
Just as a huge number of people like to call themselves Christian because they went to a church once, or their parents did, but have absolutely nothing in common with true Believers, many people call themselves Muslim, but hold no bond with the tenets of that faith either.
Do you think the Christians who died on 9/11 at the Trade Center would be glad to see their former co-workers who were Muslim be discriminated against because of their own faith? Because of revenge? That's no honor.
I'm so sick and tired of people claiming the name of Christ to gather support for their angry, hateful and stupid reasons for action. They make Christians look bad. Unfortunately, some of these boobs are Christians, and that breaks my heart. I guess all people can be idiots and jerks. I hope you're smart enough to know the difference, and to know that using the name of Christ is NO assurance that someone actually is one. Most people I know personally who are true Believers rarely use Christ's name in their own defense. They just live as if He's in them. And hate isn't part of who they are.
It's to be called Park 51. Sounds so "New Yorky" and not at all "Muslimy." And it's location is actually 4 blocks away by foot (2 as the crow flies) and out of sight of the former WTC. So what's the big deal? Oh yeah, some people like to hate Muslims, I forgot. They're not usually white, and they're not "us." Give me a break. Racism against non-whites is still racism, and still ugly.
I forgot that Muslims are the ones involved in this current war my nephew is now stuck in. You know, the one where we went to support the citizens - the Muslim citizens - against Hussein and his terrorists. So... our loved ones are fighting to help, and dying for our enemies? Am I an idiot, or are some Muslims actually our friends there?
Do you know religious Muslims believe Jesus was born of Mary via a virgin birth? Yes, really. And their Bible includes the gospel books, and they believe He ascended into heaven, but dispute that he died on the cross. In fact, Muslims and Christians have a few things we believe in common, but a lot we don't agree on. I don't know that much about the Muslim faith, but it takes little actual reading to know they needn't be our enemies.
Just as a huge number of people like to call themselves Christian because they went to a church once, or their parents did, but have absolutely nothing in common with true Believers, many people call themselves Muslim, but hold no bond with the tenets of that faith either.
Do you think the Christians who died on 9/11 at the Trade Center would be glad to see their former co-workers who were Muslim be discriminated against because of their own faith? Because of revenge? That's no honor.
I'm so sick and tired of people claiming the name of Christ to gather support for their angry, hateful and stupid reasons for action. They make Christians look bad. Unfortunately, some of these boobs are Christians, and that breaks my heart. I guess all people can be idiots and jerks. I hope you're smart enough to know the difference, and to know that using the name of Christ is NO assurance that someone actually is one. Most people I know personally who are true Believers rarely use Christ's name in their own defense. They just live as if He's in them. And hate isn't part of who they are.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Today, Just Live
With whom do you converse more than anyone else in your life? On a regular basis. For most married people, it would be one's spouse. Then maybe the kids. Same here.
Wait, I'll bet some people talk to coworkers more than anyone, since 8 hours a day is more than evenings at home. Whatever. I work at home (writing, cooking, not cleaning, corresponding, etc.) but I do talk with Steve via phone nearly every day. For a long time.
But I find myself talking with someone else on and off all day lately. God. Okay, so that sounds geeky if you're not a Believer, but oh well. I'm a geek and it's what I do, so please refrain from laughing. Sometimes I think I should be more respectful, less casual, and stop "dropping in on Him" so often. Then I think He wants to be in my life, so what's wrong with an ongoing conversation all day long? Yes, there are days when I sit down, read my Bible and truly worship Him, but frankly, most of the time it's simply talking, asking, admitting, questioning, even begging.
I suppose it's all related to this cancer journey which is so up and down and bizarre. I never know if I'm getting well, or dying or just odd. I decided today that I'd rather not know how I'm doing; it's too exhausting to deal with how to react, how to look forward, how to handle my emotions and those of my family. Gak! I'm pooped and I just woke up.
I remember when I first got sick, and learned to "live in today." Sadly, I've lost that ability. I want it back. Yes, do my chores and handle responsibilities, but don't dwell on tomorrow or wait for today to end. Just live in it. Today is all I've got that's certain.
I hate, hate, hate that I got cancer. I'm also thankful for it, since I've been forced to learn things I'd never have learned without it. It's a puzzle. Odd as it seems, the scale is tipping toward... glad I got it. It's scary to think where I'd be if it had not stopped me in my tracks ten years ago. There is absolutely nothing in my life today that came as a result of cancer that I'd be willing to let go if given the chance to trade it for 'no cancer.'
It is what it is. Do you have some horrid thing in your life that has miraculously made your life better? Think hard, remember. Even the excruciating pain of childbirth leads to having someone who fills your life with love. So the pain is worth it, no?
I find it harder as days go by to waste time, to wish "it" would hurry up, whatever "it" is. I'm trying to recapture being able to live in today. Tomorrow comes without my having to do anything. Like I said, today is all I've got that's certain, and I'm not about to waste it.
Thanks for listening. I feel better already.
Wait, I'll bet some people talk to coworkers more than anyone, since 8 hours a day is more than evenings at home. Whatever. I work at home (writing, cooking, not cleaning, corresponding, etc.) but I do talk with Steve via phone nearly every day. For a long time.
But I find myself talking with someone else on and off all day lately. God. Okay, so that sounds geeky if you're not a Believer, but oh well. I'm a geek and it's what I do, so please refrain from laughing. Sometimes I think I should be more respectful, less casual, and stop "dropping in on Him" so often. Then I think He wants to be in my life, so what's wrong with an ongoing conversation all day long? Yes, there are days when I sit down, read my Bible and truly worship Him, but frankly, most of the time it's simply talking, asking, admitting, questioning, even begging.
I suppose it's all related to this cancer journey which is so up and down and bizarre. I never know if I'm getting well, or dying or just odd. I decided today that I'd rather not know how I'm doing; it's too exhausting to deal with how to react, how to look forward, how to handle my emotions and those of my family. Gak! I'm pooped and I just woke up.
I remember when I first got sick, and learned to "live in today." Sadly, I've lost that ability. I want it back. Yes, do my chores and handle responsibilities, but don't dwell on tomorrow or wait for today to end. Just live in it. Today is all I've got that's certain.
I hate, hate, hate that I got cancer. I'm also thankful for it, since I've been forced to learn things I'd never have learned without it. It's a puzzle. Odd as it seems, the scale is tipping toward... glad I got it. It's scary to think where I'd be if it had not stopped me in my tracks ten years ago. There is absolutely nothing in my life today that came as a result of cancer that I'd be willing to let go if given the chance to trade it for 'no cancer.'
It is what it is. Do you have some horrid thing in your life that has miraculously made your life better? Think hard, remember. Even the excruciating pain of childbirth leads to having someone who fills your life with love. So the pain is worth it, no?
I find it harder as days go by to waste time, to wish "it" would hurry up, whatever "it" is. I'm trying to recapture being able to live in today. Tomorrow comes without my having to do anything. Like I said, today is all I've got that's certain, and I'm not about to waste it.
Thanks for listening. I feel better already.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Are We Having Fun Yet?
Here are the facts:
Decided to attend a niece's wedding in Kansas City. Sam joined us because he longed to see his favorite cousin, but Sam won't fly. We looked at our 2 old cars, sighed, then rented a car and left. We drove 9 hours to KY to get Morgan. She was suffering from what her doc thought was MRSA, a dangerous, wicked rash on her leg, but healing.
Her grass was 10" high. She'd been with us for 4 weeks in June/July, and her lazy housemate hadn't mowed even once. Then Morgan's mower broke. Steve fixed it and mowed while I tried to rake up the "hay" and dispose of it. Steve's back had "gone out" leaving him in serious pain. Oh, and it was over 100°.
Next day we headed to Kansas, another 10 hr. drive. The front passenger seat was so low I couldn't see the hood, let alone the road. Steve's head was 6" above mine; I looked straight into his neck. I felt like a two year old unless I was driving, then Steve was the little kid. Nice view of the sky though.
We arrived at the motel where we weren't placed with extended family on floor 3, but on floor 2 at the opposite end. No problem. Until we realized we had no chair and no phone. After we'd unpacked, they told us they were moving us, so we repacked and moved to floor 1. We got a phone that we never used. It was now 107°.
Saw some family at the pool (we didn't take suits) but we did get a short visit with mostly in-laws of my sister-in-law. Not our family, but fun people whom we truly enjoy. Morgan and Sam went with cousins to a movie. I went to sleep and Steve merely laid down in pain.
Morgan woke me @ 5:00am and asked me to look at her neck. She'd broken out in another painful, itchy rash. Took her to an emergency clinic that opened 90 minutes after our arrival. Turns out she's allergic to the meds given for her previous rash. The poor woman was in agony. She laid down in our room and we all slept, missing every family gathering that afternoon.
Went to the wedding, which was 90 minutes - outside. The bride was lovely though. Don't brides sweat? Morgan was in too much pain to attend. Yes, really. She rode 10 hrs. for... what?
Went to the reception, (Morgan too, warily) which began @ 8:00 (9:00pm our time, already 30 min. after my usual bedtime with my current drugs) and again spent time with in-laws of our sister-in-law. Fortunately I really like these folks! Morgan and Sam were seated at other tables. Sam only got @ 10 min. with his favorite cousin, who was elsewhere. He was pretty bummed. The hors d'oeuvres were fabulous, but Sam is food-cautious, so only ate one pineapple slice. It was his only meal of the day, partly explaining why he's so thin.
Returned to KY, where Morgan and Steve hunted for a car to replace hers, one previously owned by her grandmother, with only 40,000 mi. on it in 10 yrs. Fabulous and paid for. The previous week it was totaled by a 17 yr. old who rear ended her. About $6000.00 later she had a car, an older one with high mileage. Thank God for Dads with dollars. Then we came home.
The good things: ...um...
Wait, there were good things. My niece is happily off on a new adventure. Morgan is healing. She has a new/old car. We got to spend hours and hours with our own kids, which seldom happens. We had a great meal our last night together and saw a hilarious movie. We arrived home in one piece. It's under 100° here in MD. Barely.
Oh, and to top it off, someone sideswiped our rental car in a parking lot, but the rental company charged us not one dime for it when we returned it. Go figure. God, I'm glad to be home. Hope the house doesn't burn down.
Decided to attend a niece's wedding in Kansas City. Sam joined us because he longed to see his favorite cousin, but Sam won't fly. We looked at our 2 old cars, sighed, then rented a car and left. We drove 9 hours to KY to get Morgan. She was suffering from what her doc thought was MRSA, a dangerous, wicked rash on her leg, but healing.
Her grass was 10" high. She'd been with us for 4 weeks in June/July, and her lazy housemate hadn't mowed even once. Then Morgan's mower broke. Steve fixed it and mowed while I tried to rake up the "hay" and dispose of it. Steve's back had "gone out" leaving him in serious pain. Oh, and it was over 100°.
Next day we headed to Kansas, another 10 hr. drive. The front passenger seat was so low I couldn't see the hood, let alone the road. Steve's head was 6" above mine; I looked straight into his neck. I felt like a two year old unless I was driving, then Steve was the little kid. Nice view of the sky though.
We arrived at the motel where we weren't placed with extended family on floor 3, but on floor 2 at the opposite end. No problem. Until we realized we had no chair and no phone. After we'd unpacked, they told us they were moving us, so we repacked and moved to floor 1. We got a phone that we never used. It was now 107°.
Saw some family at the pool (we didn't take suits) but we did get a short visit with mostly in-laws of my sister-in-law. Not our family, but fun people whom we truly enjoy. Morgan and Sam went with cousins to a movie. I went to sleep and Steve merely laid down in pain.
Morgan woke me @ 5:00am and asked me to look at her neck. She'd broken out in another painful, itchy rash. Took her to an emergency clinic that opened 90 minutes after our arrival. Turns out she's allergic to the meds given for her previous rash. The poor woman was in agony. She laid down in our room and we all slept, missing every family gathering that afternoon.
Went to the wedding, which was 90 minutes - outside. The bride was lovely though. Don't brides sweat? Morgan was in too much pain to attend. Yes, really. She rode 10 hrs. for... what?
Went to the reception, (Morgan too, warily) which began @ 8:00 (9:00pm our time, already 30 min. after my usual bedtime with my current drugs) and again spent time with in-laws of our sister-in-law. Fortunately I really like these folks! Morgan and Sam were seated at other tables. Sam only got @ 10 min. with his favorite cousin, who was elsewhere. He was pretty bummed. The hors d'oeuvres were fabulous, but Sam is food-cautious, so only ate one pineapple slice. It was his only meal of the day, partly explaining why he's so thin.
Returned to KY, where Morgan and Steve hunted for a car to replace hers, one previously owned by her grandmother, with only 40,000 mi. on it in 10 yrs. Fabulous and paid for. The previous week it was totaled by a 17 yr. old who rear ended her. About $6000.00 later she had a car, an older one with high mileage. Thank God for Dads with dollars. Then we came home.
The good things: ...um...
Wait, there were good things. My niece is happily off on a new adventure. Morgan is healing. She has a new/old car. We got to spend hours and hours with our own kids, which seldom happens. We had a great meal our last night together and saw a hilarious movie. We arrived home in one piece. It's under 100° here in MD. Barely.
Oh, and to top it off, someone sideswiped our rental car in a parking lot, but the rental company charged us not one dime for it when we returned it. Go figure. God, I'm glad to be home. Hope the house doesn't burn down.
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