Di is hosting Fibbing Friday this week with questions provided by Jim Adams. The rules are simple, answer the questions with fibs. Hmmm, I am a truly and uniquely lousy fibber but since you can’t actually see my face, let’s take a bash.
1. Why did all the dinosaurs die? Heat stroke. 2. Why are there so many stories about the great flood? Because if flooded the Grand Canyon. 3. What happened at Hadrian’s wall? Joshua fought the battle and wall came tumbling down. 4. How long was the hundred years war? It only lasts one day but occurs once every hundred years. 5. Why was it all quiet on the western front? All cell phones simultaneously lost connection with their music apps. 6. What was the Boxer Rebellion all about? Whether a “wild haymaker” was a legitimate pugilistic move or just some froo-froo bar drink. 7. What caused the Titanic to sink? Bizarre encounter with a mosasaurus. 8. Why do they want us to remember the Main? Well why would you want to remember the Lesser? Duh 9. What happened to Amelia Earhart? She got married and became Amelia Heirhead.
Til next time ~Never fib to your Nana, trust me she already knows ~JP
How are you on this cool autumn morning? Are you gazing at your perfectly pegged fresh laundered linens wafting in the gentle breeze while putting the final touches on that handmade card for next month’s birthdays? Will you be settling down to a breakfast table, prettily laid for one and savor a slice of homemade quiche with a dollop of Summer tomato chutney, followed by a perfectly frothed cappuccino? Yeah, me neither.
For while I have known those perfect days, and I will know them again, today is not that day. Today is a drinking bagged black tea brewed in a giant Halloween mug while scarfing down a bowl of raisin bran day. And that’s OK. Today is a low-spoons day, when I do the bare minimum to see us through the week ahead. To make sure we have clean clothes to wear, enough food to feed us and a kitchen floor clean enough to keep my sweet Mommy from rolling over in her grave, or smacking me upside the head in the dream world. Today is not the day I will be making performance art out of brewing coffee or turning my mantle into something worthy of artistic enshrinement.
While I want to live that perfectly decorated, elegantly cottage, shabby chic life twenty-four seven, it’s not something I’m striving for today. All of the frilly, yummy nonsense of cottage living can wait for another day and I can let everything be enough. Today, I’ll take care of myself. I shall relax and let the warm sun shine through my streaky windows while I enjoy a cup of instant coffee and a pumpkin biscuit, just because. Because my body and soul need a little nurturing today and the laundry will still be there tomorrow.
Dust if you Must – by Rose Milligan
Dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better To paint a picture, or write a letter, Bake a cake, or plant a seed; Ponder the difference between want and need?
Dust if you must, but there’s not much time, With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb; Music to hear, and books to read; Friends to cherish, and life to lead.
Dust if you must, but the world’s out there With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair; A flutter of snow, a shower of rain, This day will not come around again.
Dust if you must, but bear in mind, Old age will come and it’s not kind. And when you go (and go you must) You, yourself, will make more dust.
Our Sunday Stills prompt this week is “under construction” and I must admit, I’m not one to take pictures of construction much. It is seldom appropriate to photograph road construction between rants and building construction is generally driven right by without stopping to investigate, so I found myself somewhat stymied, until I realized that, heck, my WHOLE LIFE is under construction, or maybe re-construction, but you get the point.
On August 27, 2021 a catastrophic hail storm hit Rapid City, SD. For 20 minutes fist sized hail stones pummeled our lives. The financial loss was significant but paled in comparison to loss of our entire way of life. It became clear that we could no longer live full-time RVing and that massive rebuilding was required. So, we repaired what we could, sold what we could, wrote off the rest and started to reconstruct our lives.
We turned the page and began a new adventure. A few years ago “adventure” meant traveling overseas to work with factories while the sporting goods lines we developed were under construction.
These days it’s all about those mundane adventures. Sitting on the deck and watching the goslings grow oh so fast.
or scoring pirate booty at our local farmer’s market, fresh, beautiful bargains.
Or reminiscing about our travels while exploring the Asian Grocery store in our new home town. Ahhh pineapple cake, how I have missed you my old friend.
Checking out the art at our local library. Here an exhibit of Fanell Scudder an 83-year-old local resident.
Of course, there are also family bonds under construction. Here one exhausted wanderer with son and two of the grandsons. For fifteen years they’ve seen me no more than twice a year and yet we take to each other like the geese to water. I do adore my boys.
The breeze this morning bears a certain something. A phantom caress as I lift my face into it and breathe in the faintest lick of coolness. A sigh comes unbidden at the first hint of Autumn. As nature prepares to run her flame-colored tongue over all this green and fresh, I pause in anticipation; sensing the tingle of excitement the precedes the nuclear explosion of color that is Fall.
I seem to lose a bit of myself in summer, routines go to pot, fatigue runs amok, outing plans are lackadaisical at best and all sense of purpose seems lost in an endless litany of “what’s for dinner?”
The “ber” months may well be the most scrumptious of all, but to get there, I must slog my way through the sticky final vestiges of Summer. Those final dog days that can leave even the most resilient Spoonie exhausted and frumpy. Hair has wilted refusing to do anything other than frizz, shorts and light tee shirts have long since lost their appeal, cosmetics are comprised of nothing more than sunscreen and even a bentonite clay mask cannot restore any semblance of vigor to my lackluster complexion.
And so it is time to rest, to dream, to plan. To re-establish the structure that supports our lives. Time to plan fall outings, and winter holidays; to dig through my recipes for soups and savory muffins. Time to dream of pumpkin spice and contemplate the world over a steaming latte. Time to breathe in and pause in anticipation … Winter is Coming.
I’ve been thinking about Summer quite a lot. Deep summer is a tough time for most Spoonies. Pain and fatigue run roughshod over my days, crushing the heart and soul. Summer is equal parts bitter and sweet, there are farmers markets on cooler mornings, swimming pool for exercise, and I must say I’ve never been so grateful for central air ;-). I can’t change the weather or the heat but I can change the way I react to it. I can choose to let the fatigue wash over me, let myself slow down and breathe in the essence of Summer. I can write and craft and lift my spirits rather than letting maudlin anxiety over things I cannot change control my day. Today I will listen and appreciate the
Sounds of Summer
The discordant buzz of cicadas as they begin their mating songs
the vibration of wind singing across the rim of my sun hat
the whine of a distant trimmer a quantum of electromagnetic flux on the breeze
The sounds of summer stir heavily through the sultry air
No industrious activity as the world lies in lethargic somnambulance
For this week’s Flashback, I went back to my old, pre-wordpress days. This is a collage I made in the old Polyvore app for a 30 day challenge called “What I Wore Today.”
It was a wonderful reminder of where I was in my life at that time, I was between two total knee replacements and resting a lot. My wish for your weekend: may you pause and feel a single moment of utter amazement at the beauty of life.
So I have spent the past six days in Prednisone purgatory. Yesterday, a really icky weather pattern moved into our area which has, naturally, led me straight into the first level of “weather flare he**.” Yeah, I’m not afraid to say, I’m not up to much right now. I’ll be fine in a day or two or as soon as the weather system settles in. Funny thing, I’m fine with either wet or dry, hot or cold, what sets my little lungs off is the change. The good news is that while I’m struggling to breathe, my peak flows remain solidly in the yellow zone. For non-asthmatic readers, peak flow meters measure how quickly you can exhale, like blowing out a candle. It’s a fair indicator of how constricted your bronchial tubes may be and I use it daily to monitor my asthma. Thunderstorm-Associated Asthma (TAA) is a real thing. I don’t think anybody knows exactly why it happens, but we know it does happen and it can turn dangerous very quickly. I am totally stocked up with every asthma drug known to womankind and I just ride it out. *grumble grumble stupid COVID*
I have caught myself recently focusing on lack. Lack of health, lack of confidence in the economy, lack of a vacation, you get the idea. That must stop RIGHT NOW! I have so many blessings I can’t even begin to count them but sometimes I have to remind myself of that. I use a specific prayer/meditation every month to shift my focus to where I know I should be and (more often than not) out of where I shouldn’t. For your perusal, my July Prayer/Affirmation:
“Great Spirit, I welcome You on this beautiful day. I reach out to You with a grateful heart and give thanks for all the blessings of my life. This day, help me let go of judgments about what is lacking or wrong. Help me replace these negative thoughts with mindful gratitude that I may remember my vast riches of blessings. Just for today, let me shine with the light Your presence brings.”
adapted from Pocketful of Miracles by Joan Borysenko, PhD
It’s drizzly this morning. I placed an on-line grocery order last night and we picked it up this morning. Ah, it’s good to have fresh produce again. We do most of our shopping at Whole Foods Grocery and I must say I am impressed with their grocery pickup process. The food was good, gently handled and ready when we arrived to pick it up which is particularly awesome considering that it included some frozen items which made it home, still frozen. Yeah baby! We got this!
This afternoon, the drizzle turned to full out rain. Beautiful, straight down, no wind, just beautiful drops gently falling on the parched earth. It’s what we used to call a “farmers rain.” Gentle, thorough soaking and just what our poor grass, shrubs and flowers need. I have felt better today, maybe it was getting out a bit, maybe it’s the rain, maybe I’m getting over the virus, don’t know but I’m grateful regardless.
I got a little writing done and this evening I played more video game. Got a little obsessed (OK maybe more than a little) but had a good time. My new bedtime ritual includes elderberry syrup, a magnesium cocktail, tumeric ginger tea, and a chant of “heal, heal, heal.”
Til next time ~Stay Safe, Stay Sane, Stay Sanitized ~JP
Well, it’s morning and I pretty much feel like cr*p. I’m not quite as massively achy as yesterday but my cough is worse and painful. The nausea, fatigue and loss of appetite are starting to wear me down. Not being able to smell anything is a lot harder to cope with than I would have thought. I guess I never realized how much I depend on my sense of smell. I decided to use my aromatherapy diffuser to help lift my mood and plllltttt ;-p I can’t smell it. I went ahead and used it since I believe that essential oils have healing properties even though I can’t really appreciate them right now. I honestly can’t say how well (of if) it worked but I did feel a bit better just for doing something.
In an attempt to combat boredom and keep my mind off of being sick, I loaded up an old video game I used to enjoy. It’s been many years since I’ve played this particular version much and I must say, it worked! I spent a couple of hours glued to the computer, taking potshots at monsters and stomping/busting everything in sight. Ahhhh yes, leave none alive! Buahahaha. I was able to get in a short nap this afternoon and feel better for it, perhaps the worst is over.
On Tuesday July 5, 2022, I tested positive for COVID. Herein is my attempt at documenting the process for a 65 year old spoonie with multiple chronic autoimmune diseases.
Day three progresses with much the same symptoms, intermittent fever/chills, severe lethargy and body aches. The big change is the mucus. I mean seriously, just how much snot can one nose produce? Or for that matter, one set of lungs. I mean really? I am currently known in our home as SWBHA (She Who Blows and Hacks Alot). Cough has degenerated into a croupy bark and one particular coughing fit nearly brought me to my knees.
I did manage to call me PCP to get one of my prescriptions sorted out and do a little mending but that’s about it. I am so tired, I barely have enough energy to breathe and forget about blinking. On the positive side, Superhubs seems to be improving every day, I’m just a few days behind him.
Late afternoon, I turned on my computer to play a little bit of video game and the blasted thing tried to take off again. It does this weird thing where the fan starts whirring really really fast and loud and it’s just scary as heck. Seriously, it’s a “this message will self destruct in 30 seconds” kind of noise. Superhubs has sorted it out before but this time mentioned that perhaps the whole system just needed to be sent back and refunded and we’ll get me something else. THAT was all it took to set me off. I’m utterly exhausted and the thought of setting up a new computer AGAIN was more than I could handle, situation rapidly devolved into tears because “I should be over this by now.” Yeah, right. Note to self, do NOT listen to the voices in your head, they are liars.
While preparing to take a relaxing, medicinal bath, I realized I have lost my sense of smell. ARRRRGGGHHH!