Tag Archives: gratitude

thankful thursday on sunday

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Because I whined on (thankful) Thursday…

Zor’s new job.

Money for groceries.

My dentist and her crew, who have treated me with utmost care and respect, and that…

My extreme dental adventures are almost over. Only one more visit! And then I will become a normal dental patient. Well, maybe not. I don’t think I’ve ever been normal. Maybe “ordinary” is a better term.

Long phone calls with my mother.

My blue tie-dye shirt. My docs probably think this is the only shirt I own, because I wear it when I am stressed. It is like a wearable blankie.

Air conditioning. And fans. Because I never did like hot, and one of the recently increased medications causes increased sensitivity to hot.

Our mechanic, whose affordable brake job just saved Me, Berta, and a disney-colored deer.

Bonnie at Mr Handy, who told Mr Moth how to fix our dishwasher with a hair dryer.

(first world) disaster averted

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The cable company raised Mom’s rates, so she called to negotiate.  In order to get the rate back down to what it was before, she had to accept a bundle deal which included a cable upgrade and the addition of internet service.

The only computer they have is my old one, which I called Mother, which I purchased in 2001.  It runs Windows XP, and has a 40G hard drive, and something like 256M of RAM, or maybe 512, I forget.  I quit using it because by the time it had a firewall and anti-virus, needed to go online, it no longer had enough oomph to run anything else much.  My brother, who lives with my parents, adopted it because he didn’t have a computer at all, never mind internet.  It was perfectly ok for running the older games he liked–think Dungeon Keeper.

When he took Mother, I got my first new laptop, which I think I called Ripley.  I used it for two years, then the hard disc died so we replaced it with a larger one.  By then I was in Graphic Design classes, and Ripley couldn’t run the advanced Photoshop features I needed, such as 3D, so sadly I replaced her with my current laptop, Big Mama.  I love Big Mama, who has an actual number pad and a backlit keyboard, and cool chicklet keys, but I still have an affection for Ripley.  At first I downgraded her to a “beater” and carried her around in my bookbag.  Then Zor moved out and when she moved back in, she had no laptop, so I let her use Ripley.

Last winter, Zor finally saved up enough to buy a better laptop of her own, and Ripley came home.  But meanwhile I’d been having trouble running After Effects on Big Mama, so Mr Moth gave me one of his old laptops to try it out on.  Unfortunately my health/cognitive issues derailed me, and I never did use that laptop, and suddenly I have three.  I waffled a lot about which to keep, and what to do with the other, since I know more than one person who could use a computer but can’t afford one.  However, I wasn’t sure my brother would even want a more advanced computer, since he said he likes playing those old games.  But if I gave it to anyone else, I would feel the need to do a complete restore to reduce the chance of any old banking info being potentially recoverable from the hard drive, in the event Ripley changed hands again after leaving home.  That would mean a lot more work.

At one point, I even posted on Facebook, a theoretical question about how to decide what to do with an extra twenty dollars.  Unsurprisingly, the answers were not helpful.

Eventually, through the apneic fog, came a possible solution.  I would ask my brother if he wanted Ripley.  If he did, I would give her to him.  If he didn’t, I would give her to a friend.  However, I didn’t ask right away.  I knew I would still have to do some cleanup, if not a full wipe, and I haven’t felt up to even that much in months upon months.

But then the cable/internet issue came up, and I have been feeling a little perkier, so I cleaned up Ripley.  I thought I had time; he hadn’t had internet before, so wouldn’t be in a rush, but then I got a phone call.  When the cable company unplugged their old TV to hook it to the new cable box, it stopped working.  It had, evidently, been on its last legs for a long while, so this was not the cable company’s fault, but rather just bad timing.  They had another ancient TV, but it was a tiny portable, and Pa couldn’t see it.  My brother wanted to know if I could take Ma to Wal-Mart to purchase a television.

However, two Christmases ago when Mr Moth and I bought ourselves a new flat screen TV for the living room, we put our old 25-inch black box TV in the basement.  I had intended to use it in the spare room someday, but I don’t actually need a TV down there, so we–well, he–loaded it up.  By great fortune I even remembered where I had stashed the zapper.  We added the laptop, some books I’d been meaning to take up there, and the boombox CD player I bought but rarely used.  Sadly I forgot to put in the CDs, or the headphones, but that will give me an excuse to make another trip soon.

The TV we gave them is the same size screen as their old console, but only half the size overall, and fits perfectly on top of the old one for now.  The picture is still beautiful, and Pa can see to watch his weather channel and his outdoorsman show, and Ma and my brother can watch Jeopardy.  He can also now google things for her.  Not that I mind googling things for my mother!  But it’ll be more convenient for her to have a googler close to hand.

At first I felt kind of anxious, like offering my family my hand-me-downs might be insulting somehow, but they are not like that.  They think these things are wonderful.  They work, and they’re free.  Which makes me realize we probably didn’t *need* to replace these things, but I’m kind of glad we did, because in the end everybody’s happy, and how often does that happen?

two little things, both good

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Yesterday T-Moth and I took the folks to the flea market.  Due to my heat & sun intolerance (medication related, and which I am going to ask the doc about because it is really bringing me down) I found a tree and camped under it, which was actually very nice.  There came a point where I saw the three of them walking at a distance, and T-Moth glanced my way so I waved.  He was standing slightly behind and to the side of my father, who as I have mentioned, is now legally blind due to cataracts.  T-Moth waved back.  And so did Pa.

Little things, right?

That’s the first good thing.  The second is, I had an idea.  A writing idea.  Not a story idea, nor a craft idea, but a method idea.  It will probably involve a new project–not that I need another project!  It definitely involves a small purchase.  But I’m half excited about this idea, because it sounds like more fun than work.

Little things.

a rough night

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So I have this weenie yet butt-kicking cold, and then my back starts to hurt. It’s one of those sleep-injury pains that you wake up with occasionally once you reach a certain age. Every morning for the last three mornings my back (or maybe it’s my hip) has been a little owier than the day before. Then last night it woke me up at 3 a.m. I got up to pee–middle age sleep deprivation multi-tasking at its finest–and almost fell. Pain shot through my right hip and down my leg, which almost buckled. I was finally able to straighten and hobbled toward the bathroom. Stepping over dogs was suddenly a huge obstacle. When I sat to do do my business the pain flared brighter. When I got up, another bolt. When I returned to bed, lying down brought some relief–for perhaps 40 seconds. Then the pain started to build again. Stabby and shooty.

I gave up sleeping and read a while. After some time I started to doze. Mr Moth’s alarm went off–it sounds like a rooster crowing. Instead of turning it off, he had some kind of convulsion, like a fish dying on the beach. It felt like I might genuinely be in danger of getting bounced out of bed. Finally, finally he turned off the damn alarm…and went back to sleep.

And started to snore.

Never let it be said I have no self control. He’s still alive, right?

I read some more. Finally Mr Moth got up and went to work. I tried to use the extra bed space to find a comfortable position, and each shift brought relief but only temporary. I got up and sat on the toilet for about an hour. The seat pressed on the backs of my thighs and kind of made things worse but also eased the pain. Don’t ask how that’s possible, because I don’t know. The relief was welcome, but not sufficient. Around six a.m. I got up and took four advil. They didn’t help the pain, but maybe they helped knock me out after about another hour.

At eight-thirty some little dog started clawing my arm and whining. Making myself look bad, I harped at her to “Knock it off, dog!” But she didn’t, because she has a teeny weeny bladder, and what can she do?

Transitions are the worst moments, the rising and settling. Then the pain escalates into agony, and it doesn’t feel like an exaggeration to use that word. But, dogs. I want her to tell me when she needs out, don’t I? I hauled my agonized carcass off the mattress, stood gripping the edge of the long dresser, waiting for the spasms to ease. When they did, I hobbled to the door. Then came trial by baby gate. When I went to the kitchen for advil earlier, I’d stepped over it. I almost didn’t make it back over, either. Now I bent and grabbled the pressure bar that releases the gate.

There was a noise, like tearing. And a sensation, also like tearing, and also like rippling, across that place that might be the lower back or might qualify as upper hips. And then, pain. Blinding. It’s not just hyperbole. I yelled, and swore, and cried. And somehow, stood up. Since I still had hold of the baby gate, it pulled loose. Two dogs charged around me while I stood there with stupid tears leaking down my face. I saw them dimly through a haze of eyewater and excruciation, capering toward the back door.

I couldn’t put the gate down, because that would have required me to bend over again. Hell, it would have required me to move. I honestly don’t know how I put it down. But I must have, because I see it in it’s daytime storage slot. I followed the cavorting mutts and let them out.

Fabulous, I thought, leaning on the back of a kitchen chair. Now it hurts to stand. At least yesterday I could do that. And today Zor needs transported to her final final exam, and there’s grocery shopping to do among the throngs of people too busy and important to bother being considerate or polite, or heaven forfend, patient.

I made coffee. Instant, with microwaved water, vanilla creamer, and pumpkin pie spice, which I ‘ve been using in everything since long before it became the in thing.

I check to see if dogs have chow, and thank heaven one of their dishes is still full, because feeding dogs without bending over can be done, but I’m sure I’m not up to the challenge. I let them in. I take my empty-stomach pills and start for the office. At least I can walk upright now, I think, with only minor twinges. I remember Zor telling me, “Little victories, ma,” when I was in the hospital and had successfully brushed my hair.

I come in the office, push into the Cessna-like whir of five hamster wheels going all at once, creep to the table where I set drinks (none allowed on the desk with my laptop, nuh uh, Im a klutz and have a cat) and, bracing myself, bend to set the cup down.

It doesn’t hurt.

Praise the cosmos.

I sit, and that doesn’t hurt either. Well, a little. But more on the sitting than the transitioning, and only at manageable levels. I play some Sims Social, and I’m still feeling a little spasmy at the tailbone, but not too bad. I stand up, and that barely hurts either–mostly just achy and throbby, which I’ll take over stabby and shooty any day.

So, anyone want to guess what I’m thankful for today?

it’s not thursday, but I’m still thankful

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Emphasis today on things:

1.) My printer.

2.) My three-hole punch. Thesefirst two have received a vigorous workout today.

3.) Big Blue Berta.

4.) MP3 player, which makes my less favorite tasks more tolerable.

5.) Sam-e.

Non-things: T-Moth, Zor, parents, friends, and critters.

thankful thursday

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I am pooped. I was up half the night playing with the mp3 player Mr Moth bought cheap from a fellow at work. I finally have an mp3 player that can handle audio books.

I’m fairly certain Lita had babies last night. I can’t see them, because she built her nest high, but yesterday she was enormous and today she’s her skinny li’l self. Furthermore, I hear squeaking. Wee tiny squeaking.

I’m changing Zanny’s name to Zandy, which is what I wanted to name her/him in the first place, but Zor insisted that was a boy’s name. Since for Lita to have babies, Zanny has to be a boy…yeah. Zandy. I separated them over a week ago after Lita bit Zanny Zandy and made her him bleed. Haha, I guess I know why now.

A plus on another topic, it’s cool enough to wear long pants today. Which is good, considering that’s what’s clean!

Oh, and it’s my mommy’s birthday. She’s 71. She’s still teaching me things, and there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful for her.