I can't use a TV

I tried to turn on a baseball playoff game earlier in the week. I could not get the TV to work. I confess I would have better luck flying a jet than using a TV. I have no TV skills at all, since I really haven't watched one except under protest in 15 years or so.

When I had cable hooked up here, I had trouble with both cable guys who came out. I was digusted with both and their behavior. I still have hand marks on my ceiling from the first guy. I still have insulation on my clothes thanks to him.

My response was to not pay the bill and to send a letter first. I didn't do it. I sat on the idea and put it off until "tomorrow" every day. Finally, today I put on my big girl pants and called the cable company. Once I politely explained that I hadn't called sooner because I was still angry with the company, the lady was very nice to me and listened to my story. I was able to be calm and polite with her. She sympathized. She said a supervisor will call me with some sort of offer. I suspect it does not include sending someone out to wash the handprints off my ceilings. (I can't reach them, nor am I allowed to do that sort of thing with a torn shoulder.)

I also had to ask her to teach me how to use the television. If she had any doubts that I truly not only didn't pay, I didn't use it, she got over the idea. I felt like a three year old, although I suspect almost all 3-year-olds can work a TV better than I can.

I decided to start gently. I put on a channel of just alternative music. I wonder if there is a way to get rid of the picture on the screen? I like listening to "Paralyzed" by Rock Kills Kid. Sounds a lot like U2. I just don't want to see the slide show.

Maybe I just need a new TV? It seems a shame to replace one that has rarely been used.

 

 

 

Spellbound

I think I have figured out my house problem. I realize our state is in a depression and our housing market is slow, but still, my house is a nice one and in an excellent school district. I have the location. The setting is ideal.

However, my ex did not want to get divorced. He really didn't want to leave the house, either. I had to get a court order after we were divorced (about a year after I had filed - that was one long year) to get him out of it.

I think he must have put a spell on the house. It makes perfect sense to me.

Who knows a good spell breaker?

 

 

 

Another Pearl of Wisdom

Do not pour two cups of old dry yeast into a garbage disposal and try to wash it down with cold water.

 

 

Out of Choices

For a few months I have been in physical therapy three times a week for the shoulder that started hurting a LOT when I was painting my old house. You might recall that X-rays and the MRI revealed that I have a torn rotator cuff, bone spurs, and bursitis. They didn't test the other shoulder because I was still using it. I had a cortisone shot in June.

I admit that I continued to paint while I was in pain. I took pain pills until I got nauseated so I could do some of the ceilings. The painting is still unfinished, since eventually I did have enough sense to stop. I will have to go finish up one of these days unless I get lucky and my house sells.

In the meantime, I have continued to get the weekly massages by the Vampire, also. I moved myself other than things I was totally unable to lift, and those were moved by professional movers. I did the rest. So sure me. I believe I have actually had the tear since I taught judo.

Today I was re-evaluated by the GQ crew (the doctor and his PA). The pain isn't gone, and I told the PA that I would be calling him some very bad names tonight after we did the range of motions. He just smiled. It didn't hurt him at all. The doctor re-did the same things, and I will be calling him Dr Bad Names all night. I have lost a lot of strength. I have slightly improved movement, but it still hurts.

December 19 I am tentatively scheduled for rotator cuff repair and to get the bone spurs removed. The spurs are just causing me more damage that cannot heal. I have mixed feelings. I go through days when I think I can live with this forever, and I have days when I want to get a fork and fix it myself.

For about 2 weeks, I will be able to do almost nothing. I live alone with two dogs that have to be collared and leashed and taken outside every time they pee. Cooking is not an issue - I don't eat much and can deal with that part. Cleaning won't be a big problem, since two weeks without cleaning house won't kill anything. I should be able to read  books and use the computer, if I can get it on my lap. I can wear sweat clothes for a while, that isn't any big deal either. Pain is something I can handle. Even the six months healing time with more physical therapy is OK. I worry about being able to take care of my dogs - and washing my hair.

So, my choices are to let the bone spurs continue to cause damage to my shoulder, continue to let my arm get weaker, and have the tear never improve - or I can have the surgery and just deal with it. The doctor gave me a speech about the size of the cuts. I told him I didn't care about that, but he should feel free to cut out the scar from my skin cancer on my shoulder and replace it with a new one.

I hope the Child doesn't tell me I have to postpone. I think she works extra hours around Christmas. In January, I believe she will also be in classes. Luckily, I have some great new neighbors who love my dogs and will probably be glad to give me a hand.

Or maybe a shoulder.

 

 

 

Thanks, AOL

AOL must be feeling inadequate after causing me to lose my entry three times. I got my credit card statement today and it shows a bill from AOL. I am on the free plan.

I went to keyword Billing and looked up my status. It says it didn't bill me. So, they not only steal entries, they lie? I tried to contact by email, and was told I would have to upgrade and pay $9.95 monthly to be able to tell them they charged me for a free service.

Anyone else have this happen?

All I can do is contact my credit card company and dispute the charge. I am sure I will then hear from AOL, hopefully at no charge to me.

I needed another chore to do.

 

Is 4 the charm?

I don't know if 4 would be the charm or not. I have written, with pictures, about the rest of the trip to Toronto 3 times. AOL has lost the entry 3 times. The third time was in the process of being saved when my phone rang. I answered, just before the modem-phone issue cut off my computer, before it finished saving.

If I re-write now, I will leave out half of it because I am annoyed. I will have to do it later. Don't get excited about the pictures - there are only three. The guy doing the pocket hockey moved before we could get a video of him.

 

I do not forget things

As usual, I went 40 hours without sleep before finally zonking myself out in Toronto. I really, really need to stop that behavior. I am still tired.

I have mentioned that I almost never get sick. I had bronchitis in 1997 or 1998. I was taught self-hypnosis and told that mostly we choose to get sick. I was taught to then believe that I don't get sick, and somehow, it works.

So, I have decided to try to use the same concept on my memory. Wish me luck - who knows? I might remember what I did on my trip. I wasn't "allowed" to take my computer (per child) because we were only going overnight. I decided there was merit to not having it since we would be "homeless" the second day once we checked out anyway. I do remember that we had a great time.

Talk about pre-conceived ideas. Child had never been on a train before, but certainly has watched a lot of movies. She was expecting a sleeper train, perhaps a private car, for a 4-hour train ride to Toronto. We didn't even leave from Michigan. We drove into Canada for the train.

Oh, what a lovely drive. We left about 4 am, and it poured rain and was foggy the entire time. In fact, it remained rainy the entire first day in Toronto and well into the evening. I hate driving into Detroit, but felt better to have a navigator. My mavigator fell asleep exactly at 8 Mile Road, which is the border to Detroit.

I woke her up, and she admitted she had no idea how to get downtown either.

Once we got to Toronto, she woke up and we left the train station. Due to the rain, we took a cab to the hotel. That was probably a first for me. Child loved the hotel, loved the room. We unpacked (didn't take long) and hit the streets. Child had ignored my suggestion of wearing a rainproof jacket with a hood, so we went to the mall first. We walked about 5 miles through the mall, and left for a walk. In the rain. We ended up at one of my favorite little dives, Jeremiah Bullfrog. I figured Child would either love it or hate it. She loved it. We had a few beers, talked, tried to wait out the rain.

We went back out (in the rain) and went to my personal ground zero. I finally had my absinthe drinks again. The bartender taught the Child, who is a bartender, to make the drinks for me at home. Child was interested in the taste and smell of the drink, saying she never had anything like it. I was happy. She had a lot of beer, so she was happy. We were also really, really tired. Child got hungry.

I swear she has to eat every day. We walked down towards Lake Ontario, by the CN Tower, and stopped in the Irish Pub I had been in before. She ordered her dinner, I got some soup, and we talked again. I told her that I had gone in the Irish pub 2 1/2 years ago, feeling a sense of familiarity. It turned out that my ex-husband and I had gone in the same pub before the Child was a reality. Not long before - I had taken the train to Toronto once with my ex when I was pregnant with the Child. Child was lost in thought about how I had been to the same place with her and her father, a quarter of a century apart.

Child was again trying to quit smoking, using me as her, um, person who will tolerate her like that? She used the patch. She didn't get too bad. She seemed motivated.

After dinner we decided exhaustion was winning and we went to the hotel. I got out a book, child went to sleep. Immediately. Geez, she already slept 4 hours on the train. I was still up. I took half a sleeping pill. I read for a while. I took the other half, and read some more. I finally tried to lie down. No dice. I got up and took a third half (I know, I know). Finally, after being up 40 hours, I was able to sort of sleep. It was 2 am. I was awake by 6 am, but dozed off and on for a couple of hours. I shook the Child awake about 9 am and we went to breakfast.

I had grabbed a donut on the way home from the Irish place because Child sometimes sleeps like 15 hours and I needed something to eat in the morning. Child didn't, so we went for a walk to find her a place to eat. She finally found a coffee house/Vietnamese restaurant (maybe something else?) and since I don't like the smell of coffee, we ate outside on the patio. Child sulked. I smiled. She got her food, and I tossed little pieces of her toast to the little birdies.

Child does not like birds. One landed on the back of the chair next to her. I am glad herheart is good and strong. (The bird is alive still, don't worry.) A pigeon joined the group. Child looked at the pigeon, put some egg on her fork, and waved it at the pigeon, yelling, "Go away! I am eating your child!"

Did you know that birds will eat cooked eggs? That is a gross thought, isn't it?

Part 2 coming later on....

Coyote Beautiful

This will be a thought salad kind of entry. I am in full PreTravel Freak Mode. Child and I are going to Toronto for a very short trip. Still, packing is packing. I take pretty much the same stuff for a short trip as I do for two weeks and I am doing the usual dance.

Two of my neighbors offered to take my dogs. Three others would have, but weren't able to. What a difference for me! I used to almost beg people to watch my dogs, and this time I have to call one and say sorry, maybe next time. Incredible! I love this place :)

The dogs and I took a walk maybe a week ago and went around the pond. Halfway around there is a path that leads deeper into the woods. I have seen deer in the woods before, and watched them run off. Remember I saw the deer running through my backyard once and my brain registered "horses" first?

This time, my brain said, "Deer! I got it right!" - but when I looked, I saw something else. There were two of them, running away from us, with long tails, running like dogs with fluffy tails - coyotes. I had heard there were some near here, but it's the first time I have seen them. They are beautiful!

This is the first time I will be leaving my dogs with anyone besides the child since Molly was diagnosed with Addison's. Molly crashed after my last trip to Toronto - I had no idea she was sick before the crash. I am of course nervous, but I know my neighbor will provide most excellent care of my furbabies.

Child has never been to Toronto. I told her to be prepared to walk a lot. She will whine, but that is too bad. It won't be any colder there than it is here, but it will be raining. It was raining last year when I went, too. Hey, it rains sometimes. We can deal with it.

I guess I need to pack. I had promised myself that I would go to bed at 9 pm with everything done and actually sleep once before a trip. I lied. My intentions were good, but the ADD won again.

Wish me luck. Not only am I traveling with a Nondenominational American Princess, but she is trying to quit smoking again. Luckily for me, the beer in Canada is stronger than it is in the US. I can alsoget absinthe. I already packed my wine key. Priorities. Plus, child is a bartender. Once she learns how they make the absinthe in the bar I went to last year, she can make it for me at home. Of course, I can't bring any home with me. It's illegal to carry it over the border :(

Hm, I thought I had a whole bunch of little things to toss into my thought salad, but if I did, they fell out of the bowl.

I do have to drive through the tunnel into Windsor, Ontario, to get to the train station. I do not like this drive at all. We will leave in the middle of the night, dark, rain, for a trip through Detroit. Wish me luck - this is the worst part of a trip for me.

On Sunday I finally got everything together at the right time and put up my programmable thermostat. I love it. I am very proud that I was able to do that. My shoulder isn't as happy as I am, but it will have to get over it.

I am off to pack. Yuo know, about half a bubble off.

 

 

 

One Year

One year ago Molly, the best beagle in the world, was diagnosed with Addison's disease. You are all probably sick of hearing about her illness and my whining about it. I worked hard to understand the nuances of getting her properly dosed and tested and all of that.

A few days ago, I was outside with the dogs. Some neighbors went by with a little fluffball, and they had to ask me which dog was the "sick" one because they forgot. It certainly isn't evident. Molly is the dominant dog and sucks up to every human she can get to. Someone might feed her. She will get right up to them and whisper that I never feed her and she begs for just some lint from the lining of their pockets. Still, her collar wears a tag that says she needs medication. In 3 days without it, she would probably die.

I am retired, as we all know, and on a tight budget, more or less. Molly's medication is quite expensive. I figure it's vaguely $200 a month, counting tests and all. I also figured I was going to have to make a budget adjustment. First thing to go was the manicures. I figured I could live without that. I can do my own acrylics if I want them, anyway.

Next to go was me.

I decided that I needed nothing new. I have everything I need. So, I made a plan. Nothing new for at least a year. I knew I would be moving anyway, and wanted to cut down on the "stuff." I also knew I had 3 closets of clothes, full drawers, and everything else a girl needs.

I confess to one purchase. When I was in Vancouver, I did buy two sweatshirts. I wanted one red pullover hoodie, but got also hooked on a pink zip hoodie. I figured I could deal with two. I had wanted a red pullover hoodie since my first trip to Toronto 2 1/2 years ago. Other than those two things, I didn't even get myself a pair of socks. No new jeans. Nothing at all, for an entire year.

My friends were astounded. I lost all interest in shopping. This was not a 'bargain' - I didn't make a deal with myself that if I gave up any new worldly things that Molly would be OK. I just had to re-budget and the only other thing I could have cut out would be travel. Let's be reasonable. I only paid for air fare on most trips anyway.

Now that a year is up, I am free to do what I want. You know what? I don't want anything. I still have all a girl needs. I also have Molly. And Baby.

I find that I want to continue to cut down on my possessions, but not on my beagles. Molly can have all the medication she needs. Me? I am happy.

 

 

 

Jump wisely, little grasshopper

Today was one of those days where everything was either odd, funny, or slightly off. Sort of like going to an outlet mall kind of day.

Child came over and we went out to lunch. Just how hard can that be? We didn't even argue over where to go. We went to a Max & Erma's, which is a mile from me. I think they are a local chain. I ordered a "hula salad," and child had one of everything else on the menu. I know for sure she had a chicken salad croissant, french onion soup, and french fries. Yeah, and she weighs 112 lbs. Go figure.

I pick at my food. I am the slowest eater you will ever sit down with. It drives some people nuts, but most of my friends are used to it. I have been edgy with salads ever since my ex-husband and I were being wined and dined by some pharmacuetical company at an upscale restaurant and a live spider walked brazenly out of my salad and headed west down the table.

So, as usual, I picked and poked and didn't even think about it. It's second nature to me. I have, in the past, found dead bugs, pieces of plastic, odd assortments of other people's meals, metal chunks, and all kinds of extras in salads.

Suddenly, a piece of lettuce flew out of my salad and towards my soda glass. I thought it was odd, but started looking for it. Do I need to mention that child is afraid of insects? I moved my glass, and there was a grasshopper, not a piece of lettuce, at least an inch and a half long, just waiting for the next course to be served.

I wasn't sure what to do. I almost just flicked it off the table, and decided that was a bad move in a restaurant. We weren't sitting close to a door, so I decided not to grab it and take it outside. I just sat quietly for a second or two, then mentioned it to child.

She was about to lose it when I grabbed the little bowl that held the remnants of my salad dressing and turned it upside down over the grasshopper. I continued to pick at my salad, trying to decide if maybe I should still finish it. I was really hungry. Much to child's credit, she remained rather calm.

The waitress came by eventually, and asked if everythingwas OK. We said yes, but that there was a grasshopper under the salad dressing container. The waitress acted up more than child did. She disappeared very fast.

The manager came over, and asked us what happened. She also seemed more upset than we were, which made me laugh even more. I was still contemplating the salad when they whisked it away, much to my chagrin. They offered me anything for free, and assured us we had no bill to pay at all.

I asked for a cookie. We left a $15 tip. I assured the waitress that one grasshopper would not keep us from returning.

I love to be entertained. I hope the next grasshopper does the hula for me.

 

 

Do Toads Count?

Subtitle: I think I missed an important opportunity!

On Monday morning I woke up as groggy as usual. I stumbled out of bed, threw on my highly attractive flannel sleep pants, dragged a sweatshirt over my head, stuck my feet into some socks that maybe matched, jammed my toes into my rubber shoes so I didn't get my feet soaked, and partially opened one eye.

The dogs danced their pee pee dance while I attempted, futilely, to get their collars and leashes attached to the correct ends. I stumbled off the front porch, tripped across the driveway, and let Molly drag me dazedly through the wet grass along the east side of my condo. We passed the daylight window to the basement and I peeked down, since several neighbors have told me they found small, dessicated wild animals mixed in with the stones.

WIthout giving it a second thought (since it was too early for a first thought), I then lifted up the heavy wrought iron grilling for the window well while still holding onto 6' leather leads for two dogs. The dogs looked at me askance and askew while I sleepily climbed down the three metal rungs to the bottom of the well, where carefully I picked up a very much alive mid-sized brown toad. I put him (aren't they all male?) gently into an unused poopy bag, then carried him up the rungs and set him on the dry grass under the bay window. I carefully put the grill back in place, cleaned up the obligatory two piles of dog dirt, closed my eyes again,  went back in the house, and fed the dogs like a well behaved automaton.

Once my eyes were half open again, I went online and emailed a friend and told her the story.

She told me I should have kissed the toad first, that maybe I had found my prince.

Since I set him free, he will come back if he is really mine, right?