Can can

May 23, 2013

At the library since I could not access internet service at home yet. We are four blocks from the local Carnegie Library, doable on crutches though the wrought iron stairs to the entry are questionable. Oh boy! An adventure!

It is exciting to be out of the house. After one full day of living with myself and my dreadful thoughts, I am ever-so-grateful to be around other people and their issues and energy. Having a bright sunny day also raises my spirit. Tyrus wasn’t so happy we were leaving him home alone but it couldn’t be helped. As far as I know they do not have a Reading Rover Program here and he is not allowed inside.

Have to make my way to the Post Office as well for Taelor. We found the closest one, parked and paid the minimum amount on the meter only to discover that branch has been closed since February 13, of this year. Notices are not clear from the street so it is frustrating. I will have search google to find the nearest one, hopefully within crutching distance or we will have to pay extra to get the mail out expeditiously tomorrow on our way to the surgeon’s clinic when I get my stitches out. Her Visa and documents to go to Thailand (the bank clerk wrote “Tiland” so obviously hasn’t left her neighborhood much) have to get to the Group Leader sooner than later.

Feel like I should begin the job search again yet it will be at least another month before I can bear weight and then consider driving options. I have an SUV, stick shift and that is more cumbersome with a weak foot. The woman next to me is working on her Resume and has a list of staffing agencies to submit the document to. She looks pretty discouraged and I completely understand that expression since it has been plastered on my face more often than not over the last few months. There is a wonderful Co-Op not far from the house and perhaps they have an office position opening soon. The staff is overly friendly and helpful, most of what we are searching for is available yet we tend to wander the isles for a time before locating them. Makes for painful shopping excursions.

Forced to use my knock-off Swiss army knife the other night to open a few cans in the kitchen. Was gifted an opener yesterday, I am delighted. The said knife bent and red side panel broke off so it is not an exceptionally good tool, abandoned on the window ledge for the time being. One-by-one we are getting the things we need. My family and friends have been so generous for my birthday that I look forward to yard sales and eventually obtaining the things that make life a bit easier-like prying open a can.

Popping corn

May 22, 2013

Dreary day and I am feeling imprisoned and unhappy flying solo with the dog again today. No goats running around upstairs, no neighbors walking by to chat (though I did spot a what I believe was a woman and her dachshund wearing matching awful brilliant yellow raincoats,) no stream of visitors, and no laptop to watch films. Stuck with my own insatiable thoughts of discontent and soul searching. What to do with that.

Made my way down the two levels of stairs to the basement to rescue the clothes from the dryer, after another hour on the timer they had to be hung over doors, chairs, shower curtain rods, and couch back to dry creating a steamy and moldy smelling house. Smoke spewing from the microwave took over the damp smell in a jiffy, burnt popcorn (I swear I just turned my back for a second and it was in flames) so I had to choose another item from the menu for a late lunch. It is a blessing in disguise not to have smoke detectors (what??) in the duplex since I would have a hard time banging on them to turn off the alarm hopping on one good leg. Mentioned it to Milktoast the other day when he was here yet he didn’t seem too alarmed that his rental house is most likely in Code violation and he could go to prison for a time over it. Not really but I could talk with him again. It’s one thing to have burnt popcorn to air out, yet another to have the entire house up in smoke, under the circumstances.

Aim to get over to the houses on either side of us to introduce myself and bring a plate of brownies though I will have to ask them to fetch the platter off our sun porch themselves or haul the delectable sweets sideways in a container with my postal carrier bag. I know there is an elderly couple on one side and at least one woman on the other. Only other people I see out and about from my Mrs. Kravitz’ window is a woman and her daughter who tend to hover around the front of their house and stare at me in longing..the girl doesn’t seem afraid of Tyrus but not courageous enough to cross to our side of the street. Another man working on his yard and meticulously sweeping the sidewalk in front of his house doesn’t even glance up from his labors.

Zipping through my stack of books and finding alternative styles to choose from. Authors from the 1800’s to metaphysical, romance, science fiction (my least favorite) and biographies. An interesting mix since I hauled many of them from Washington state, gifted by my Sorted Affairs clients who were downsizing their eclectic libraries. Many of the families had books stored in basements, attics, garages and extra bedrooms that were not conducive to unstable paper and mold-attracting environments. A few are falling apart at the seams due to poor gluing and age related disintegration. And, they are clearly gifts for me which I can pass along. Will build or buy a box to shelve pre-owned books and magazines to place out on the side of the street, a lending library is something I have wanted to create for some time.  I haven’t seen one in my immediate vicinity so if you would like to drop by and take a look, feel free!

Birthday blessings

May 21, 2013

Happy birthday to me!

My daughter had someone special over for most of the day yesterday. I am thrilled to discover Taelor’s flirty side, found her showing off a selection of infant-to-teen pictures  endearing, telling him hilarious stories of her antics and trouble-making as a child. He seems like a nice guy and certainly admirable for taking three buses and an hour and a half in transportation time to visit her, not to mention the fact that he was willing to be here, the mother, parked on the sofa the entire time with my leg above my heart.

Who owns liquor stores, gas stations with convenience stores attached to a floundering bait shop? Hadn’t imagined the type but it certainly didn’t fall into Dan’s category-Mormon wannabe lookalike, clean butch cut hair, baby face, thin and wispy like I could give him one good belt and he would drop like a dead robin hitting the window pane. Shy and a bit indifferent about the details of the discussion we are having, I felt challenged to maintain his wandering attention though I suspect it had to do with the copious phone calls from the Manager of the gas station who was jabbering about some credit card slips and receipts left unattended. Dan has four children, two strip malls and a number of rental houses to maintain. It’s a wonder he isn’t burying himself in the dark recess of the back room at the liquor store sampling the product before it gets stocked on the shelves on the sales floor. Some of the tenants are causing him grief and he appears to be stretched to the limit in dealing with the excess garbage bags in the front of their unit, various shady characters coming and going, complaints about guest’s cars parking in the middle of the driveway so the others cannot park in their designated spots and a disgusting pile of an assortment of smelly and decomposing cigarette butts scattered on the lawn. Although I don’t have a cousin Guido to offer up I can certainly mutter sympathetically and nod in agreement to Dan’s incessant moaning. He seems to be more elevated after our talk yet I am not sure I got what I needed from the interaction. Certainly gives me more appreciation for the medium-sized business owner and all they have to juggle to “barely make it.” I will remember that the next time I race through the gas station to use the restroom which is the only reason I enter the establishment since I do not eat nor drink any of their products. Awhile back, Taelor unknowingly bought and consumed an egg salad sandwich at one such place of business and got a severe case of food poisoning. I thought that was in the manual-no eating questionable food at gas stations or from street vendors, she must have skipped that chapter.

I haven’t gotten out much in the last few days. No internet service and limited DVD access (my computer has never accepted nor will play a film-drat!) so I am juggling several books at once, writing many letters and post cards again and paying close attention to the color of the toes on my left foot. The blood flows down the leg but can only circulate it back up to the heart when there is pressure put on the bottom of your feet. Consequently when my leg is vertical, the blood flow stops at the toes. Therefore they become a deep purple. I learned that from McMarvelous while in Brasil.

Off to a late breakfast with a great friend and hope to scuttle by and get a knee wheel. Later on this afternoon I aim to get out of the house again to the Co-Op and buy some fixin’s for burritos and Izzy’s ice cream for dessert. Taelor also promised me a Dunn Brothers brownie to accompany it.  

Lee's Legacy

May 20, 2013

As I sit precariously on the edge of the impractical tub, shaking, dripping, exhausted from a simple bath, I take a moment to create a wave of empathy for those who are temporarily or permanently disabled. Reaching down to clean up the lake of spilled water from my glass bottle who’s top was not properly seated forces me to glance around while I am close to the floor, to grab whatever else is within reach. An extra swipe or two around the toilet bowl, dab at the floor around the baseboards and underneath the radiator must be good enough as pain shoots up from my instep. Each step curiously advantageous and fastidiously focused. Didn’t consider, for example that the majority of my pants, even the capris will not fit over the end of the stiff bandage and it took having to crutch to my room, park on the bed with a pile of slacks and shorts that were tossed from across the room (most of them made it!) to try on, one-by-one while lying on my back, kicking my legs up like a graceful swan. Everything takes five times as long as you can imagine.

Taking a bath, cooking, cleaning, writing and daily living is all about preparation, organization, strategy and physical strength not to mention having all the right supplies! The thought instantaneous with my self-satisfaction of being Girl Scout prepared quickly turned to dismay when, from my awkward sideways angle, I discover I cannot possibly reach the faucet to turn off the running water! No handicap rails and certainly no rounded corners to prevent me from cracking my head open to fetch the soap. Leg wrapped in the take home personals bag from the Specialty Clinic after surgery, I scootch back and forth, sloshing water everywhere washing and wiping and cleaning as I go. Amazing just how dirty one foot can get in the course of a day or two! Jack Nicolson from “The Shining” insane laughter takes place of both frustration and orneriness. Maybe I could get a job

Loneliness and victimhood creep in when faced with mundane tasks like washing oneself. Tyrus is helpful, opening cracked doors and lapping the spilled water from the spotty clean floor. Granola, bits of dried bananas and yogurt accompany my cup of coffee left by my barista daughter when she crept out of the house at 5:30am. There are definite advantages to having a coffee connoisseur in the household!

The Lees moved out in the dead of night, leaving behind rotting food in the frig, clothes hung unsuspectingly on their hangers in the closets, dishes, flatware and rice cooker spattered oil on the walls and assorted furniture, books and personals. The energy bill left unpaid for quite a few months to the tune of $645.98. Given I was quoted an average utility bill of $149 per month…you can do the math! Understandably landlords, electric and water companies, telephone and gas are all absorbing many delinquent statements. Despite Energy Assistance Programs and providing personal information, large deposits and background checks, things can certainly go awry. I could make up a story that an out- of-the-country family member was ill or dying, the clan was running from the law, green card authorities pursuing them, mafia members after them for non-payment or they just got sick of the goats from upstairs tromping around, coming and going at will. 

Three goats

May 19, 2013

The doorbell rang incessantly in the late, finally dry afternoon. Took me quite some time to check at the front door although Tyrus was barking at the back. Thru the large front rooms and into the kitchen to the back door on my two sticks to discover three little urchin girls all with their caustic glowing jelly sandals on the wrong feet, pressing and pressing impatiently. The tallest, presumably the eldest, wearing a muted Easter colored strapless dress with the back a bit undone has a terrible speech impediment. I mumble my final attempt at a reply and hope my face doesn’t express my deepest sympathy for her. John John (though don’t quote me on the spelling,) the second tallest reedy girl had her hair pulled up tight, bunched into big yellow balls looped around the frizz. Globe eyes stared at me, and I suspect, asked if the dog could play. The first two were very startled by Tyrus’ size and skirted him while pudgy, bleach-stained denim dress with a large cow on the front pig-like expression youngest grabs ahold of Tyrus’ fur to gently pet and pet him while his soft winter coat floated down to cling desperately to her clothes. Maya’s fat outstretched chocolate arms barely contained their joy. She babbled incomprehensible words with withered front teeth that astounded me. Several times during the hour or so they were in and out of my place her mouth was knocked, as though a magnet for disaster or to drawn attention and deep cause for concern to them. Her mother screeched from upstairs to stop being a baby and “STOP THAT CRYING NOW!” I wanted to snatch her to my breast and comfort the wee one. Her calf eyes filled with gigantic tears and grimy hands plastered to her mouth in palpable agony. How can one not notice her rotting baby teeth and oversensitive tender mouth not to mention the simple fact that they appear to have been attacked by miniature beavers on gnawed wood?

The girls followed one another through my space in a dance line. They asked “What is this?” in the bathroom, bedrooms and kitchen, far from my propped leg on the loveseat cushions. “Bring it to me so you can show me what you are asking about.” My Woman Super Hero lunchbox, a First Nation Tribal beaded purse, Taelor’s hermit crab tank, pictures of Taelor when she was little like them, candle holders and small bottles of perfume. “I never had a lunchbox, this purse is pretty can I open it and have it, how does the tank open, where is your girl, can you hear us upstairs, I go to school at mumble, mumble, my teacher has a calendar like this one, who is that, my dad says I can have a dog but I like the little ones, we are moving to New Orleans and on and on.”

The thin gaunt one climbed inside the yawning emptiness of the bookshelf before it is cleaned and put back together…all of them followed her full of fat juicy grins and a bit of shoving. They laughed in delight as I admired their cleverness.

“Sister has to go to the bathroom” After insisting she could use ours they all raced and bunched in together. “Did you wash your hands?” “No,” out she comes, hands foaming with soap. “Go back and rinse and rub like this until it is all gone.” Out she comes with hands to her nose, smelling the luscious soap. Then Number Two decides it is her turn.

After filing out one-by-one and telling me they will see me tomorrow they peak into my room from the back porch and ask me what I am doing, the middle girl begins to ring the bell over and over until I become exasperated and ask the two sisters and cousin to please stop so I can rest my broken leg. Silence ensues.

On the move

May 18, 2013

Happy Birthday Karen!

Nothing whatsoever humorous about having to sweat pushing a handful of boxes, assorted bags and juggling a number of small items while gripping the handle of a crutch. Gave up and pragmatically scooted along the carpet in my apple juice stained sweat pants, sliding along the remaining baggage of my life down the carpeted hallway, angled down the stairs, moved into the back of the car to be absorbed into the vast and glaringly vacant of important furnishings like a bedside lamp duplex. Had I considered the inefficiency of eating Patrick’s yummy spinach salads directly from a paper napkin spread across the soon to be painted to cover the mars end table I would have saved myself embarrassment. As Taelor and my good friends can attest, that is typically after the fact!

Have an arms length list of items I need and a few in the “I want” category already. Nah, cross off the toilet paper since I can resort to stealing it from restaurants and coffee shops. You are now forewarned to watch your hall closet when I come over for dinner! The clue will be if collect my luggage-sized purse and ask to use the restroom. And just so you know, I am no longer on medication that requires stool softeners so we are good! I won’t be using half a roll of tee pee or taking undue amounts of time in the bathroom unless of course you have a good stock of scented soaps and lotions to sample!

Yes, this is my quirky mood and I never know what is going to show up on the screen as I type! Could be lack of meds and/or reintroduction of vitamins. Supplements are forbidden seven days prior to surgery.

Tyrus is fetching my skid-free socks to keep me warm in the chilled house, bringing me hot drinks and reminding me to prop my healing foot above my heart (no worries, Nettie!) He is sharing Fritos corn chips with me, catching them high, low and sideways, he is so clever, watching my eyes to see which way I aim to throw it. I wish all of you could have a dog like Tyrus!

I had an excellent delicious half salad for lunch and the other half is awaiting dinner. I have such wondrous honorable, generous and gracious friends who humor and feed me occasionally. As the neighbors tromp around like great trolls upstairs, I am concentrating on lining the shelves in the kitchen, planning where the plates and cups should be housed versus food and treats! The rigors of being a newbie in a home. Decisions, decisions!

So stirring to explore the new neighborhood, finding the Food Co-Op, hair salon, gas station, dog-walking park, farmer’s market and just gotta have some ice cream immediately store. We live in the middle of a maze of side streets off the main drag, around the corner and across the way from pretty much everything! It is convenient as long as you know where North is and how to find your way out of a paper bag, which sometimes eludes me. I come from a long line of don’t tell me to “Turn South” or “That it is on the Northeast corner of the street.” Give me a good ole fashioned right or left and I can find my way to the corner.

The curtain in the bathroom stops abruptly at the top of my chest so if anyone is interested in looking in at an old lady who’s taking a sponge bath with a plastic bag wrapped around her calf is in luck. The rest of the walls also require window treatments, all in good time.

As long as I can have my hot water for the French Press in the morning, I will be ready for the day. Taelor and I are off to find the Co-Op and fill the cupboards with fresh food and staples. Daunting to start over yet again with salt to peanut butter to olive oil and bread though it is a good feeling to be calling it my own for a change.

Crabs!

May 17, 2013

In case anyone is interested or hasn’t noticed, I am crabby! Try this on for size...keep your left foot above your heart 23 out of 24 hours a day. Said foot must be iced (not the incision sides) 20 minutes out of each hour while you are awake. Drink plenty of fluids and then be prepared to run to the bathroom frequently. Lift the seat, turn, sit and after doing your business spin around again, stand on one foot to balance while pulling up your drawers or scoot around to prop against the sink to wash your hands. By the way, you are also uncomfortably constipated due to all of the medications you are ingesting so munching prunes constantly and swallowing stool softener are in order as well. The fan should be turned on every time you go to the restroom…just in case you get lucky! Isn’t this fun? Timer is set for every four hours throughout the night to take the three medications which you also have to take with food, if you can find those snacks in the dark. And plenty of water, which makes you “go.” You will be leaping over three sleeping dogs to get to the bathroom so that is always a joyous obstacle course. The laptop cord occasionally scoots out of socket and you lose all of your work since the battery isn’t charging properly and it is an inexplicably ghastly long time to reboot. The cell phone doesn’t ring since it is not laying on the correct edge of the comforter to get reception. Texting doesn’t come easily due to large fingertips so bear with me. This is my life! I am definitely crabby…for another six to ten weeks time. Yahoo!