I awoke this morning to March Snow. What is different about March Snow? Well, because in all of my years of living in Washington (the state) I've never seen March Snow before. Even Mr. Doo looked out onto the snow with vile contempt. Did someone send a pitiful, grant-me-a-wish letter to the Freeze Miser asking for this winter weather? Did my letter to the Heat Miser get intercepted by Homeland Security because of its suspicious nature? (I knew I shouldn't have made it obvious that the enveloped contained large amount of unmarked bills.) There are 19 more days until the vernal equinox. *Sigh*
It's time once again for one of those "here's what's been going on in my life" type posts since there has been life going on while this blog languishes without updates.
Internship
I'll begin by announcing that I have scheduled my first client for this coming Monday! I have no idea if the appointment will happen as there is a chance they will cancel or no show, but at least I am moving one step closer. If I stop and think too much about sitting in the therapist chair for my first time I'll start to feel like what I imagine it must feel like for those rare few who have experienced spontaneous human combustion. (And what are the famous last words who have died from this mysterious phenomenon? "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?")What is interesting is how the universe works in coincidental ways. Previously I shared that I realized a theme of frustration in my life and determined that it would be a key issue I'd be working on this year. My first case also has a strong theme of frustration being experienced. If I had a goatee I would be stroking it and humming "Hmmmmm" over this curiosity.
We Have Two Inkies!
If someone were to drive by our house they would see we have two Saturn Ion 2s in deep blue parked in the driveway. We obviously must like the car so much we had the first one cloned! Actually, there is a freaky little story to explain this double-mint gum commerical pair of cars.During module one, Pooky took the car to the Saturn dealer for our semi-annual oil change. Our very reliable C-Berry was in need of fresh blood. As the car was being parked by the lot attendant he hit some parked cars with our car. Saturn took full responsibility and an arrangement was made for our car to be repaired.
This past Tuesday I took the car to the dealer and was given a rental car. Long story short, the rental car I got just so happens to be the same as Inky, only Inky is a manual and the rental is an automatic. Also, the rental has a very peculiar odor like sweat and bubblegum.
Damn Baseball
Pooky is a Mets fan. If you follow baseball at all (which now I am against my will) then you know that the Mets are in the World Series running. What this means is we are spending our evenings watching what has got to be the slowest sport in all of creation, human history, and no doubt various dimensions and planes of existance. Golf moves quicker than this game and is more action packed. Even boring bowling games that used to be broadcast on the old ABC's Wide World of Sports had more knuckle-whitening tension and intrigue.I have observed why this game moves so slowly. Everyone is busy scratching themselves, rubbing their faces, doing sign language and smoke signals to each other. Factor in that most hitters don't even hit the ball 30% of the time, and that the pitcher spits and scratches before each throw, it all adds up to a very inefficient process and sport.
But! I have a saving grace! I've been able to make one sweater and have made great gains on my sweater jacket! And now with my nifty new wireless laptop, I can blog!
Electronic Gadgets
We went shopping at Best Buy last weekend so I could purchase a video camera, laptop, and if we were good little children, we'd treat ourselves to our holiday present a little early: a VHS/DVD-R combo.I decided to get a laptop so that while I am away at module I can stay in touch and possibly blog when lecture gets boring. No, I won't be blogging during lecture; I tease. But, it will allow me to type my notes instead of write them, and when class isn't in session I can blog, check e-mail, and all of that neat stuff. The hotel now has wireless Internet for free which makes me so happy!
The video camera is for me to be able to tape my sessions with clients. I will also be using it for personal use. I already am starting a story board in my mind of making a movie called Wicked Pussies. No, not about evil vaginas! It would star the beasties doing their evil antics. Yes, more cat videos to be found on YouTube!
Lastly, the VHS/DVD-R combo was acquired because I have numerous VHS tapes that I would like switch over to DVD. I have episodes of Avonlea I taped years ago, and also have extensive episodes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 that I don't want to loose. And on the rare occasion we want to tape a TV show, having it taped in DVD quality is nice.
All we need is one of those TVs that is larger than our living room! I'm not that interested in getting a flat-screen TV. The one we have is good enough and works.
Anything Else?
I think I've covered the highlights of the past couple of weeks. If anything real juicy and exciting happens I'll be sure to post!
During the winter we set a new record for days of consecutive rainfall. Yesterday we reached 101°F. It got this hot because I said that it wouldn't. Pooky had heard a week ago that it was supposed to reach the century mark and I reminded him that this is western Washington and that while it has gotten that hot, I can only recall it happening about 5 times in all of my years as a resident of the state.
We don't have a lot of humidity to go with this heat, though today does feel a twinge moist. I actually miss the refreshing thunderstorms that would be associated with this heat if we were east of the mountains and anywhere else in the contiguous states. We don't get thunderstorms as a rule. However, with the weather doing its own funky thing these days, anything is possible.
I don't mind the heat and delight in being able to feel my toes. The cats have taken up residence laying in the front of the fan. Mr. B is the worst of the fan hogs. He gets a nice breeze blowing on his butt!
On Saturday Pooky and I had plans to go to the familial house of Tree Crest and stay the night as I had a wedding in Hoodsport and being that it's in the area, we thought we'd make a little get away out of it.
It was rainy and drizzling, but during the wedding ceremony itself the clouds parted for us to stand outside and conduct the handfasting. I told the bride the weather cooperates with me if I ask it to. I can't think of a time when it hasn't.
Tree Crest needed to be brought out of its winter status and that meant getting the water turned back on. The house's water supply is a fresh spring on the property. We knew that the water pump had a reputation of being tempermental, yet Pooky has had so much experience with all things pertaining to the functioning and operation of a house that I had confidence that he'd manage whatever this water pump of evil presented. Turns out that a small valve needs to be replaced and he didn't have the tool to do that. We got the replacement part for $1.69! But the actual replacing of this part may be a day-long adventure.
So, we got the tank pressurized to give us enough water into the house to fill some buckets and drinking jugs and then turned the pump off since it would run continuously due to the leaky valve. We expected to not have full amenities at the house since it isn't lived in. It is interesting to "rough it" for short periods of time. Makes you wonder how people lived without indoor plumbing, electricity, and such. We did have electricity and thankfully a local pizza restaurant that makes a good deep dish pie.
From the house we had a peek-a-boo view of Hood Canal. I found out that it really isn't a canal, it's a fjord.
When we drove around the fjord to Hoodsport (which is 9 miles away as the crow flies but by road is 25 miles) we got to see all of the elaborate fjord-side homes that are certainly not cheap. Supposedly Bill Gates and his family own homes along the water way. There were a few houses that were built very narrow and two stories up. Narrow being the width of a single hung window with just enough around the window to hold it in place. These were wedged in on the beach front and looked weird. I suppose it technically gives you a beach front home.
The bride that I joined owns a cat that is a cousin of Smee's! The kitty looks just like Smee, only Smee is smaller, younger, and slightly more darker in fur tone, but basically the same cat with a similar disposition. Smee is jumpy and prone to skittishness. So was this kitty! Seeing Smee's twin made me long for Smee. I missed my baby!
Pooky enjoyed being in the Tree Crest house as the inspected everything to survey the carpentry-worthiness and construction of the house. He reported to me his discoveries and findings. I was amused when I asked him if he thought the house is earthquake sound since it is built entirely on short concrete piers. He said it should be, and it only has about a foot to fall if it came off of those piers. As he put it, "If it broke it would break into large pieces." I suppose that is comforting. The house stands on a terraced hillside and if the land beneath gave way then the house may take a ride down to the road below.
We also tried to find our first Geocache. We found the location but weren't able to find the cache box. Next time we'll prepare ourselves for more exploration and see if we can't make our first discovery!
The anal retentive in me is fastidious about making sure burned out lightbulbs are immediately replaced (with the exception of the ones in the bathroom). About two weeks ago the lightbulb in the dryer died. I decided not to get anal about it. I really didn't understand what purpose the light inside of the dryer served. I can rationalize the need for a light inside of the oven. I want to see my food burn to a crisp. I know the idea of the light in the oven is to keep me from opening the door and losing heat, only the window that is designed gives such a crappy view inside that opening the oven is necessary.
The light inside of the fridge is important because it's nice to see what's inside late at night and I don't want to turn the main kitchen lights on because if I do you'll go blind from the sudden intensity of brilliant light after being in the dark.
When I buy a phone I make sure it has a back-lit phone pad. I reason that it is important to be able to see the numbers in the dark. There may be need to dial 911.
I'm not sure why the microwave has a light. If it were to go away I probably wouldn't notice it. The same with the dryer. It's not like I sneak down into the basement at late hours to grab clothes out of it. Going into the basement is not something I could navigate in the dark so I always turn the lights on.
So it occurred to me maybe I should take the light bulb out and see how much the replacement would cost. Specialty bulbs for appliances aren't cheap and I was curious to find out how much "enlightenment" in my dryer would cost. I reach in to snap off the cover only to find that there is a screw holding the cover in place. I peer inside. It's dark in there! I'm going to need a light to see the screw! In a flashful insight of pure genius, I figured out the meaning and purpose of the dryer lightbulb! It exists to allow you to see that screw so you can unscrew it to change the lightbulb! Alas! Mine is burned out! A conundrum was born!
Yes, I could take a flashlight down there and use it. Or I could just forget about the light. It's too much like work to fiddle with the darn thing anyway.
I'm always amazed each year when the flowers awake, renewed, and bloom in all of their splendorous color! If there is one thing that I will miss being in human form is that each year there will be flowers that bloom. I don't exactly believe in the Biblical miracles, but I do believe in the miracle of putting a bulb or seed into the ground and then watching it take root, grow, and blossom.
There is such awesome symbolism associated with sticking a plant in fertile soil and it growing to its fullest potential. People are like that, too. I don't agree with the motivation message of bloom where you're planted. Some environments are devoid of the nutrients you need. Some of us have specialized, have specific needs in order to thrive and reach our potential. I know that the sentiment of bloom where you're planted is meant to provide encouragement to someone who finds themself in a situation they would rather not be in, that by rising to meet the challenge they will grow. Growth is certain as long as you are drawing breath. When we no longer embrace change we cease to grow. We die, or we may as well be dead.
I get philosophical around flowers and plants. They live on a different time scale than us uppity mobile non-chlorophyl creatures. I want to know life from the perspective of the trees. Their silence is incredibly powerful, because I intuit that inside of their solitude they know great secrets and mysteries of life. What wisdom would they care to impart to us? It may very well be all they have to say to us is, Quit cutting us down!
When we walked among the Redwoods in California, I felt like the giants were watching us. Sizing me up, determining if I was worthy. They were the keepers of a forgotten knowledge, and preserved mysteries that they would only share with one chosen sage every century. Their sense of time is one that I cannot comprehend: to exist for 1500 years is hard to wrap my mind around, and to think they spend it all in one location, too!
I envy the flowers and trees, for their toes are always touching the soil, connected intimately with Mother Earth.
Gaia's Womb
Bury me deep in the flesh of your soil,
and protect me with your bones made of rock,
nourish me with your waters of life that
run through your rivery veins,
and gently rock me to sleep with your
seismic tremors,
and lull me into dreams of mirth
with your never-ending heart beat,
the pulse of the Earth.
~ Lori M. Carlson ©1997
In the scheme of things from the human perspective Spotty was just a goldfish. S/he was with us for almost three years. Spotty and his eight other comrades were the sacrificial lambs for establishing our tank. We lost none of them so we figured that they were just as good as the koi we had dreams of getting.
Spotty was the only one to have black spots. They were all koi look-a-likes. Spotty was the second smallest of the bunch. S/he lived a good life, and s/he shall be missed.
In parting, I found these words in which to send Spotty off to return to the Earth:
Still stunned, the fish floated about for an instant. Then he breathed deeply, letting the clean cool water run through his gills. Now the felt weightless again and with an ever-so-slight motion of the tail he could move to and fro, up and down, as before.The sunrays reached down with the weeds and gently shifted patches of luminous color. This world was surely the most beautiful of all worlds. He smiled at this friend the frog, who sat watching him from a lily leaf. "You were right," he said. "Fish is fish." ~ Fish is Fish, Leo Lionni
Help Me Win a Space Alien!
When Lady Linoleum put out the challenge to win a crocheted space alien, I just knew I had to win one of them! So help me do it by casting your vote for my clever little space ship entry! Yes, this is a shameless plea! I think you have until Sunday to cast your vote if you haven't done so already. I'd be so very happy with Shrone glee if I won a space alien. I have two names already picked out: Grubnuck and Zorgon. I can't decide which will be used.
Science geeks may recognize the design of the craft as being modeled directly from a T4 virus bacteriophage. Pooky assisted with the wood construction of the head and skin while I crafted the rest from pipe cleaners, cardboard tubing from a paper towel roll and a very handy glue gun. I didn't get the best pictures of the ship considering every time I bring it out there are three curious cats wanting to sniff it and then chew on it.
Carnivorous Plant
Speaking of Lady Linoleum, I recently received one of her stellar creations: a Venus fly trap complete with signature eyeball! The plant hasn't yet instructed to "Feed me!" and I am waiting for it to spring to life and clamp down hard on my hand.
My over-active imagination is pretty sure that this plant has psychic powers and can read my mind. I'd expect nothing less of Lady Linoleum's magical creations. Now, if it could give Tarot readings for proft I'd be on to something!
Promotion
Pooky confirmed that the promotion he expected to get was made official. He went for the piss test and everything else. He is leaving the flooring department and is now a Department Head of the Pro Desk. A slight pay raise and weekends off since the Pro Desk is a Monday thru Friday affair. He may be required to be readily available at all times since he is now the bottom level of management.And the good news is that his pay raise is already spent! Thankfully, the mortgage company raised our interest rate (NOT!) I think he said he'll be able to schedule his own work hours. Perhaps we'll have a designated time for dinner each evening? How cool is that?!?!?
New Shrones
While I have your attention, link on over to the Hall of Shrones to check out the 4 new Shrones! We're up to 40 groovy gals who have been named!
We spent much of last week cleaning the house so as to make it look less fur-coated by the C-beasts. The futon in The Spirit Room was made up and the cats promptly claimed it as their new bed. Luckily, Jenn and Glen have cats, adore them, and didn't mind the bits of fur. It made them feel more at home.
Saturday was their arrival, though I didn't know what time. Therefore, they arrived just before I was going to take a
shower. I was still in my PJs and morning look, and thankfully I had gotten the vaccuuming done!
Pooky had to work until 3pm, which wasn't too bad. By the time he got home we were all starving.We all ate ourselves silly at the restaurant.The food is soooooo goooood I went with the chicken molé this time.
After dinning we gave them a quick tour of the historical homes of the town, went by my mom's house and showed them the flood plains of the Chehalis, Newaukum, and Skookumchuck rivers. It was terribly exciting. It was too overcast to view the volcanoes of Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens, and Mt. Adams.
I showed them some pictures of the C-beasts as kittens along with pics of Mr. Doo and B at their best. I wasn't surprised to see Mr. Doo and Theodore Montague warming up instantly to Jenn and Glen, for these two have no shame. Smee made an early appearance, but was suspect. Stash dashed around, and of course Mr. B stayed in the darkness, only flitting by briefly to show he wasn't going to be social.
The plan for Sunday was I'd make buttermilk waffles topped with fresh strawberries and crème fraîche. (Crème fraîche is easy to make. Pour about 2 cups of heavy whipping cream into a Mason jar, add two tablespoons of cultured buttermilk and let it sit on a counter that is room temperature for 24 hours.)
The menu for dinner would be a prime rib roast, twice baked potatoes, salad, and white chocolate cheesecake with raspberry topping. The roast came out ok, but the meat wasn't as tender as the one we had for Christmas. Everything else was very yummy.
While waiting to do the cooking Glen, Pooky, and I, played a game of Talisman. I chose the [Evil] Warrior of Chaos to play. Since I had to cook bacon and stuff my ability to play well was hampered. Pooky and Glen did a whiz-bang job of playing. Jenn opted to watch TV. The cats continued to slink around wondering when the foreigners would leave.
Now it just so happened to be that Jenn took to Mr. Doo, and I think this had a lot to do with Mr. Doo using his awesome mind powers on her. She would swoon over him, fed him snacks, and doted on him.
Mr. Doo wasn't very pleased with Glen, however. Glen plays rough and Mr. Doo would bitch in his best Katharine Hepburn voice that he didn't like or appreciate the blatant insolence! It think it was all a show because Mr. Doo secretly enjoys being roughed and scrubbed.
We got the scoop on the family back in Pennsylvania. We told of our news, that sort of thing. It was nice to see them again. It was 3 years ago since we last saw Glen. He had been shipped out to Bremerton, called into active duty for the Navy. This time his visit was his two/three week training period. He opted to do it out here because they both like the scenery, and it gave them the chance to visit with us.
Hopefully we can make a trip back soon. For years now I've been dying for a real NYC style pizza, decent Chinese food, and good greasy diner food.
As of February 25th the earth's population reached 6.5 billion people.
It is predicted that on October 18, 2012, we'll reach 7 billion people.
Let's take a look at what this means:
- You'll wait longer in most lines. More people means longer waiting.
- Increased gridlock traffic. If you think it's bad now, it's only going to get worse.
- If your skies are still blue where you live, count yourself lucky. Where I live which is about 90 miles away from two major cities (Seattle and Portland) there is a nasty brown haze on the horizon. That's air pollution. More people means more cars and more brown hazy skies.
- More houses and less natural land to enjoy. What natural land remains will be turned into places for folks to amuse themselves and isn't the point of going to a natural place to escape from other people? You and dozens of other like-minded folks will be sharing that precious turf of beach or grass at the park.
- More urban sprawl and more mega stores. Because today's paradigm in society isn't about quality of life. It's about you being a good consumer and consuming the natural resources (which are dwindling rapidly, but don't talk about that—let's pretend that we can be sustainable and use renewable resources. As if!)
I'm sure there are more inconveniences we'll be experiencing as more and more of us come into existance. It's the waiting in endlessly long lines that pushes me over the edge. Gridlock traffic does it, too.
I fully admit: I wasn't born with a strong gene for reproducing. Biologically speaking there has to be a drive to replicate, but I think the instinct has gotten out of hand.
I betcha for each child born it probably translates to an increase of 20 minutes waiting in line or gridlock traffic per person, per day. It's just a number I pulled out of my ass, but it would be interesting to see what the number crunchers could tell us.
It all began with MamaKelly's post about the Housewives Tarot. I knew I had to have a copy after seeing the deck's Death card.
Saturday I had a wedding in Seattle so we were near Archie McPhee and I had to stop there to by my SP7 pal some goodies. I purchased for Theodore Montague a Squeak Salmon. (I will eventually take his picture doing his sea otter routine with the salmon on his tummy.) I also bought some things for my sister: the Marie Antoinette action figure (she thought this was better than the Avenging Unicorn), a couple of corn dog air fresheners (with yummy mustard scent), and a sushi air freshener.
I got myself two packages of their newest candy cigarettes: Death Row and Black Lung, and I am now showing my support for bacon.
Then on Sunday Pooky went to the monthly store meeting and found out that his bonus check was a lovely amount, and he suggested we go to Fuddrucker's and do a little shopping we had been talking about. It was then that I knew I needed to by the Housewives Tarot that day from Powell's Books.
We discovered a new branch of the Powell's empire! In a neighborhood in Portland on Hawthorne Street is the Home & Garden store filled with cookbooks and gardening books! I only looked at a fraction of the available cookbooks, and Pooky scanned the gardening. He found us a book on vegetable gardening in the Northwet.
And a bonus....they had a small crafts section! Pooky made the ultimate score in finding this:
It was marked as $13.95, but at the register it came up as $19.95. Well, since the sticker had the lower price, he got it at that! All of the other books were correctly marked! Talk about the deal of the day!
I found for my sister a book of tablecloths and placemats all in size 20 or 30 thread. She has been bemoaning to me the fact that there are no patterns done in these sizes of thread, especially large projects. The book was only $5! What is scary is to make a 53 x 72 tablecloth some of them require 300+ motifs! Talk about taking awhile to make!
I've come to the opinion that shopping lists are misnamed. They are really spending lists. I am much more fiscally aware since Pooky has put us on a strict budget so we can pay off credit cards and have a savings account that has real value come next Christmas season.
I tend to think that our grocery bill is too high. But I don't know what the normal is for two adults. Pooky does eat more food compared to me, so I don't know even if the amount he eats is normal. Here's the basic facts:
$100 a month goes to Costco
$50 a month to feed and litterbox the cats
$100 or more in dining out
$60-75 a week at the grocery store (~$300 a month)
I seem to recall that our spending dollar went father when we lived in Pennsylvania because food prices were much lower than they are here in the land of the high cost of living.
Do these numbers seem about right compared to your budgets, or is there something way out of line? I've tried to cut back on our dining out, but unless we want to eat cheap fast food, going to a real sit-down restaurant runs about $25-30 per visit. I buy cheap meat and try to get it on sale.
Since when did eating cost so much? Yikes!
Not Your Typical Olives
Pooky cleaned out the fridge this morning and what I had thought was a little cup of butter was actually a creme brulee leftover from Christmas! Eeewww!But that doesn't take the prize for most disturbing find. He said he pulled out a can and it was all black inside—looked like a can of olives—until he read the label and saw it was sliced pears! Now that had to date back to when I was sick last summer! Double eewww!
My Blood is Just Like Brine!
I came to the realization that my salt consumption is high enough to begin the pickling process. I estimate that in twenty to thirty years I will be totally preserved—perhaps as little as ten if I increase my salt intake.It has occurred to me I can skip the pickling process and go straight to jerky if I eat enough salt and lay out in the sun.
Our V-Day is on the 16th
Five years ago on the 16th, Pooky and I met in person for the first time! Our date lasted the entire weekend. It started off with dinner and then...well...you know.Tomorrow the plan is to celebrate the day by taking a trip out to Aberdeen to get some hot dogs! Yes, this is significant because getting a good hot dog around here is near impossible. This region isn't a hot dog eating bunch like in the northeast.
I'm hoping that I'll get to enjoy Snake-in-a-Bow later that day!
Monday I awoke around 4:30 am with an unpleasant green feeling. Something I ate disagreed and I sent it back via the regurgitation express. Yesterday I spent feeling groggy as I took phenergan to end the green and keep my food down. I slept most of the day and was revitalized by eating pizza.
Mr. Doo received a snail mail card from PetSmart™ wishing him a happy birthday, and inside was a coupon for a free cat toy (retail value up to $4)!
I think the reason for my brief spat of sickliness was due to the fact that I was active over the weekend. I went to a wine tasting with my sister and BIL, then on Sunday we drove up to Tree Crest to retrieve some camping gear my sister needed.
Tree Crest is a second summer home my grandparents Carlson bought in the 1950s when buying a second summer home was the thing to do. When my grandfather passed away my father inherited the property and I have the feeling it will remain in the family. I took pictures of the house and natural spring and will eventually post them. My grandfather passed away in the house and my sister feels that his spirit still resides there.
The last time I was at Tree Crest my younger brother was a baby. This would make it about 21 or 22 years ago! The place hasn't changed much; the exterior color was redone, but the inside is pretty much like how my grandfather left it.
Wine tasting is very bourgeois and I felt like I had stepped into a living episode of Fraiser. I never did drink all of the sample I was given. I took baby sips—just enough to get a taste the wine, as I wasn't looking to get loopy. One wine was exceptional—it was a late harvest something-or-other, and then there was a really nasty one that was a rhubarb wine and it smelled like wet sock and had no flavor.
Sunday we had tacos for dinner, and Pooky was bothered by the seasoning (he is if I don't buy a particular kind) and I suppose that I was also laid to waste by it since it unsettled my stomach. I won't be using the rest that I bought of it.
I'll start with the good news, then the not so good news.
Good News: New Dishwasher Ordered!
Ever since moving into The Pearl House, we wanted to rid ourselves of the antiquated dishwasher. It has to be at least 20 years old, if not more seasoned. It struggles to clean the dishes, and it literally growls and roars when it runs (not because of mechnical failure but because it has no insulation) and it doesn't fit anything over-sized.Enter Pooky's Christmas discount coupon from Home Depot! The corporation doesn't give employee discounts, but once a year they will give out a discount coupon, so we thought let's take advantage of it! Pooky picked out the model, which was fine by me. He did the research on Consumer Reports and Epinions.com and found that GE had one of the best models with all of the features we were looking for: internal food disposal, room for over-sized pots and pans, heavy insulation for quiet operation, built-in water heater, and much more!
It will arrive a week from today. I am doing my dance of joy just thinking about how swiller keen it will be to have a decent dishwasher!
Not So Good News: Goldfish Woes
One of our goldfish is sick and/or dying. We noticed that about two days ago it was swimming oddly, and last night I found it on the bottom of the tank still breathing, but not doing too well. I thought this morning I'd find it floating, but the darn thing is still struggling!There isn't much we can do for it other than comforting vibes, because it doesn't show signs of ick or other fish diseases Pooky is aware of. The reality of it is: the fish is 3 years old! This is like being 120 in human terms, or something like that.
I told Pooky he is NOT going to flush the fish, because it deserves a small but meaningful little burial and a kind word or two about how we enjoyed our time together, and stuff like that.
What is amazing about our goldfish is we initially bought 9 of them as starter fish for our new tank. We didn't expect all of them to live through the tank's start-up cycle, but the fish all made it through the nitrogen/ammonia battle, and all lived to tale the tale. One even hopped out of the tank one day and was rescued before Mr. Doo discovered it.
The fish have lived through a lot, and we even got them a larger tank when they out grew the initial one. We have some pretty large goldfish! All well fed and happy-hummy. Except one. I don't think it is going to make it. *sigh*
I realized that if I had a better mopping system, say one of those Swiffer Wet-Jets, that I may actually be able to clean my floors more often. With my easily fatigued body I was sold on the convenience of this product. Squirt and toss. I forgot the push and pull part. So today as I tried out my new Swiffer, I soon realized that while it is far better than my moldy old sponge mop (I see the day in which people will no longer know what a real mop is since Swifferdom will reign supreme) I anticipate the day that these darn things become self-propelled like vacuum cleaners. Yes, I am pathetically lazy, but the sqaure-footage of my Swifferable floor space is in the thousands! (I kid you not!)
One thing I have found is that the Swiffer will find all of that very fine, didn't get swept up by the broom dirt and lint, so I guess I will still need to vacuum the floors to avoid having to sweep up that little bit of stuff. Or just not worry about it and Swiffer it up against the walls where I hope no one will look.
While I do like the benefits of the Swiffer, I notice that my tile floors looked streaky and dull with it. I'd better check out any Swiffering secrets that may help me achieve immaculately clean floors!
This will be one of those "this is how my life is going, and I'm sharing it because well, you're my readers and I feel the need to share something with you" kind of post.
Over the weekend I enjoyed watching the Rankin & Bass marathon of holiday specials on the ABCFamily Channel. You know these folks—the creators of The Heat & Freeze Misers, Winter the Warlock (call me Winter, please), and assorted others. It got me to thinking that nowadays the talent just doesn't seem to be there for new lovable characters to warm our hearts and become part of our popular culture. OK, perhaps it is, but it isn't getting out where it needs to be!
I found it amazing to think that the Charlie Brown Christmas is 40 years old! Soon it will be that for a half century this sweet, adorable little cartoon has entertained us, making most of us fall in love with pathetic little Christmas trees!
Then I took in The Muppet Christmas Carol on CBC on Sunday evening. It freaks me out to watch Canadian television. Did you know that KFC delivers in British Columbia? And there is a store called Canadian Tire that seems to sell everything but tires!
After draining my energy earlier in the week with a two day painting frenzy, I took two days to renew my energy, and have learned not to paint for endless hours without taking a break or eating. I've also learned that to over-eat late at night means my bag will spring a leak. All of this is not good, and so my education continues...
We actually had a dusting of snow earlier in the week! Yes, a rarity, but not uncommon. I took picture of the kittens walking in their first snow. Smee thought it was a new form of litter as he took to pawing at it. Stash did the same, and yet Theodore Montague wanted nothing to do with it!
Today I played chaffeur to my mom. She left her keys at the shop and needed to run errands. I was going to run them, too, so it worked out well for us both. I got lunch and a full tank of gas and she got to accomplish her tasks. In re-reading that last sentence it may sound like the lunch I ate gave me gas, but I'm sure you know what I mean!
I'm off to do "whatever" before I must pick up Pooky from work. The joys of being a one-car family is that these arrangements must be made. Hopefully all will come through and I'll be able to get an internship, collect my student loan money, and the rest will fall into place from there.
My dearest friend in high school has been having a rough week and today I find myself thinking of her, admiring how she is handling so much all in a short space of time. She is someone that I admired back when I was 14 and still admire today, which means I've been in awe of her for 19 years! It doesn't seem that long...we actually knew each other since kindergarten, but didn't become good friends until the arrival of adolescence which caused us both to find new friendships when we outgrew the ones of our childhood.
I didn't know just how much I cared about her or missed her until I had a dream about her dying. It was sometime in the 1990s when I kept dream journals that I felt the need to reconnect with her, and I am so thankful for Classmates.com that did reconnect us after so many years.
Funny how a dream can have such deep feelings that will incite you to act differently. She was alone and wasting away in a hospital bed, all of her friends had left her, and I was the only one not afraid to be there for her, because I knew that it wasn't a scary place to be and that she needed a hug.
In that dream I hugged her, and there was that lovely feeling of warmth and love between us, the kind that poets write about between souls. It would be my wish today that if I could somehow transmit that hug to her that I had in my dream I would. She needs it.
I recently found out that my mother's greedy streak is alive and well. Owning her own LYS has gone to her head. She was boasting to me about one of her practices. Let's say that she has a ball of yarn she marks as $2.99. If it doesn't sell as fast as she thinks it should, she'll then put a sign on it saying: Now on Sale! Was $4.99 now $3.99!
When she told me this I said that is illegal to do that. She told me that it wasn't. She does have regular customers and eventually they will catch on to what she is doing. That's not being honest or fair to her customers, period. Yet she defended her actions. Just because she thinks she can do it, why it must be legal for her to do it! She wouldn't hear any word to the contrary!
In that respect I'm not like her. I'm not greedy. I'd like to be able to pay my bills, enjoy a steak ever-so-often, and from time to time be able to spread some good will and happiness into other people's lives by giving them gifts.
Long ago my mother used to enjoy baking, and from that I acquired my fondness for the culinary arts. She taught me to crochet, and how to knit more than once. She does possess a taste for the finer things in life, as well do I. However, she hoardes clothes. I just have what I need.
From her genes I have traced that is where I acquired my ulcerative colitis tendency. The Schmitt blood has it.
She made me take notice of Nature when I was a child and this left an impression upon me that still exists to this day. It was amazing how she'd pause on a warm spring evening and say sharply, suddenly: Hey, do you notice that?
Notice what? I'd ask.
Do you smell it? Take in a deep breath and smell. It smells like spring.
Because of her, I can smell spring in the air at the end of winter; I can smell snow in the air, too, and even notice how morning air smells different than afternoon air versus evening air. Each moment of the day has a unique smell. Different regions of the country smell unique as well. The northwest has a sweet, sap smell in the woods. In Pennsylvania the smell was like earth and leaves.
She didn't think any religion or belief should be forced upon her children, so the kindest and bestest thing she ever did was let us find our own spiritual pathway. She didn't forget to teach us "right and wrong" and what is proper behavior.
As I didn't have anyone religion crammed down my throat I was able to find my own way to The Divine. My faith is hard-earned and strong and continues to grow as I I learn to trust more in The Powers That Be. My moral foundation has grown, too, and she provided me with a firm basis in which to nurture. If only she might now follow some of her own advice and wisdom...
Her interest in medicine and psychology/self-help has been a guiding force in my life, though now she doesn't appreciate too much the learning I've had over the past year as I am using that on her and she doesn't like being challenged in her behavior or ideas. (It's not like I'm cramming anything down her throat, but that my way of interacting has changed and no one likes changes at first.)
Something tells me that my worship and fondness for cats comes from her. She tells a sad story about a cat that she adored and how it ran off when they were moving. When they stopped along the roadside to take a breather, the cat escaped from her arms, bounded off into the wilderness, and her father wouldn't take the time to retrieve the cat. He was an abusive, crazy-ass religious nut who left a variety of marks on his children. After losing her cat she seemed to have lost her care for animals until she got her Beagle.
I received from my mother my inability to function properly in the morning. It is absolutely painful at times for me to get up at an ungodly hour, but I do it. Just don't be around me until I've "thawed out".
As I've gotten older, I've tended toward more daudling and moving slower and taking forever to get ready to run a day of errands. It would frustrate me to no end how long she'd take to get motivated to go to town, but now I find I'm not that anxious, either. As I age, I do realize that my worst fear is coming true: I'm becoming just like my mother!
I've been thinking a lot about my dad and how I remembered him as a child compared with the 67 yo man I have recently begun to re-know. He seems far more reserved and conservative than the man I knew in my youth. I only lived with him for my first 11 years of life. That is hardly enough time to really get to know someone, considering out of those 11 years, I probably only really solidly recall about half of them. (I am one of those weird children who have very early memories. I can trace back my first memory to being in Pampers diapers—about 2½, and being toilet trained at age 3.)
This much I've surmised about my dad now is that he's been a quiet thinker all of his life, even though he's not a talker. I think he was socialized in that time period when men weren't suppose to talk or express their emotions. His father was 100% Swedish, not noted for being expressive peopple.
I realize now that my contemplative, thoughtful, reflective nature must come from my father because no traces of this type of personality/behavior have evidenced themself in my mother to any extent. My father strikes me as being very rational, methodical, deeply emotional (though he doesn't always show it), possibly sentimental, has a sense of humor, and enjoys good food.
Naturally, the above list of traits I've noticed within him are those I've noticed within myself, or believe to be true about who I am. The man that I knew in my childhood that no longer seems to be around is the man who would lounge around the house in his robe and me and my brother would whisper to each other that we could see his goods, for he wasn't too concerned with modesty.
He would have almost daily yelling tantrums that now I think he wouldn't have, for he seems to have found an inner calm and peace. He may have been frugal and not prone to extravagant spending, but he had his own type of generosity.
It's apparent to me that talking to my father in a deep, heart-to-heart style is not his way of communicating just yet, and frankly, it isn't mine. What I sense that we are doing is a little imaginative, abstract sharing of who we are through movies.
I'm very much a visual thinker, a person who can listen to a piece of classic music and see this "movie" play out in my head, for the emotional qualities of the music easily process in my mind as pictures, scenes acted out with a story to be told. I wager to bet, my dad has some of this mental ability, too.
So instead of having long talks (my dad is hard of hearing, too and won't get a hearing aid) we've been sharing favorite movies. I think that there is a lot being said between us about who we are. Our favorites and preferences are a snapshot of who we are. We may change certain preferences over time, but I'm sure long-term we stick to basic things that appeal to us, that work for us.
My secret passion for wanting to be a spy apparently has a genetic component because my dad loves spy movies—not just James Bond. My love for Monty Python also came from his gene pool as he has a penchant for British comedies. So maybe all of these years my grandmother was really onto something when she'd look at me and say in a not-so-friendly voice: Your just like a Carlson! Indeed, I am, and at last I can say I'm proud to be one!
Well folks, this is the last hours that I'll still be able to be buried in a Jewish cemetery. I have no idea what that means other than that supposedly someone with a tattoo can't be buried in one. Yes, I am going under the needle. I'll let you image where I'll have it and what it will look like until I have it done and post a picture of it. Suffice it to say, it will include "Pip & Sprout."
Then I have a follow-up with my surgeon. The last time I'll see him for a very long, long, long time (I hope, knock faux wood). I'm going to miss him because despite the rough patch we had about the disagreement of when he should operate to fix my kink, he's been a wonderful surgeon and I'd recommend him to anyone who wants someone who hasn't lost his humanity.
Turns out in the end he was right more often than not, though I was a bit concerned that he would sometimes dismiss my inner feelings of something being wrong. In the end everything turned out well, and the experience taught me to be patient and perhaps not to rush into things as boldly and fiercely as I did.
However, I was playing the role of the eternal optimist thinking that the first surgery would be like the second one. For example, the second surgery went off well. I was home in 8 days. By week 4 classes at LIOS started up and I felt like I could have attended them (if I had still been a student). This was the same scenario back in May. I would have had 4 weeks to heal and go to class.
If that damn kink hadn't been an issue, I would still be in school, being a full-fledged second year student. I would have been able to obtain an internship and all would be right as rain.
However, things didn't go that way. I suppose karma needed to bite me in the ass, or just whatever it was the PTB had in store, I went the route of insane pain, vomitting and miserable existance. But out of the trials and travails I got my family back. I want to type that again: I got my family back!
My faith is renewed about reconciling with those people in my life with whom I am currently estranged. That list isn't long, and it consists of two in-laws. My role in that reconciliation will be interesting to know as I seemed to have initially played the role as a catalyst for the two people to use me as a reason to disconnect from another person—that person being Pooky.
He says he isn't interested in reconciling, but often life has other ideas in store for us. A few years ago I was not interested in reconnecting with my father, feeling too hurt by everything that happened in my life. I had little interest in connecting with my older brother, and I blew off my older sister as "being too stubborn to ever talk to me again." Turns out I needed an attitude adjustment to realize that deep down inside my hurt was a defense against all that had been a wound in my heart. Letting go of that defense and seeing my part in how the separation occurred, things began to change on my part and it was like a nifty Rube Goldberg/domino effect. A clever chain reaction that once started, took on a life of its own.
They say that our intentions ripple across the fabric of reality (space-time) and put into effect our causes. The more intense and sincere and often we put out our intentions, the more likely they are to "fall into place". Some people might call intentions prayers as often prayers are intentions to help others or ask for something or to give something.
It is our unconscious intentions that we should strive to be made aware of, as these are the ones that sneak and do things that we don't like the outcome of. If we play back what took place and assess our feelings in a given situation, we see that what we were thinking/feeling can directly influence and impact a given situation without us being aware of it.
So with that wisdom dispense like a can of tuna to a bunch of swarming cats, I take leave to get ready to be tattooed. I dread to think how much it will cost to have it removed if later I change my mind about it. For now it is wanted and I think that it shall be part of me for the rest of my days.
As Anne Shirley would say, today has been a Jonah day. It's the kind of day that you expect to find your favorite pet dead, or receive notice that you owe thousands of dollars, or that if you step out of the house the big, bad world will have to be beaten off with a large stick because it just wants to crap on you repeatedly.
First off, I get the phone call from the lady at LIOS who knows what is going down. She informed me I cannot switch to Winter Track because I didn't attend the make-up classes in August when I was in the hospital. I'm too far behind according to the track leads who told her that I couldn't switch. I can't even resume with my Fall classmates if wanted to because I missed approximately 2½days of lecture about "Group Development" that is vital to my continuation in the program.
Just when were they going to inform me that I couldn't even resume with Fall Track? I had gotten an e-mail asking me what I my intentions were about school, and silly me I assumed everything was A-OK about me continuing on schedule with the program! Apparently, it doesn't matter that I passed the orals exam and proved I comprehended and understood the course material of the past year. The fact that I missed those all important "credit hours" of sitting in a chair hearing lecture (and then probably doing something experiential with classmates about the lecture) that I'm vastly behind in being able to continue with my classmates, let alone switch to Winter Track, let alone enter into an internship!
I was told by my track lead that once I had passed my orals I could begin an internship. Good thing I didn't go out and secure one because apparently I'm too stupid to have one! This sucks big time because I had contacted my local agency and was about to follow through with my letter.
Trust me, I fired off an e-mail to both track leads asking them if there is no possible way I could get caught up and resume with Winter Track, because I did pass the oral exam after all! I'm sure they will dodge my e-mail until I give them a phone call. This pisses me off because if they say there isn't any way for me to join Winter Track, I don't do anything school-wise until May/June when I have to make-up the missed module and mini-module, and I don't even get financial aid to pay for the hotel and food because I won't be registered for any credits! I won't be an official second-year student until Fall 2006, which means waiting an entire calendar year before I technically resume my studies.
I AM FUCKING PISSED OFF! I'm so ready to leave LIOS and just get your run-of-the-mill masters in psychology and screw their systems counseling! You'd think they wouldn't f*ck with their students since enrollment is down and they could certainly use my $20K a year! But they are bold bastards as far as I'm concerned!
Second evil act of the day. I contact the bride from a wedding Pooky performed as she still owed us $75.00 and didn't answer an e-mail I sent. She acted very cool toward me and claimed that Pooky screwed up the ceremony (she said it was the wrong ceremony which was a lie, then she said he switched names and said husband when he should have said wife) and that she was so unhappy with the way the ceremony was performed when she watched it on video that she was very upset. I asked her why she didn't bring up her complaints and concerns to my husband after the ceremony, when he waited 45 minutes for them to have additional photography taken. She got smart-mouth with me and said when in the five minutes was she supposed to bring up her concerns? Before the wedding? And she was upset that he performed the ceremony instead of me, but I e-mail her before the ceremony informing her that he would be taking my place, and he even called the day of to remind them of this fact.
I've informed her that no paperwork will be filed until she pays us the balance owed, and she acted like she didn't care! I directly asked if she would pay us and she wouldn't answer me. I'm calling the county auditor tomorrow to see how long we can hold the paperwork, or if we can get away with not signing the paperwork (technically making them not married) so that they would have to have to get married by someone else.
It's people like her that make me question why the hell I even do the wedding officiant thing, and especially charge so little for it. I'm more than ready to raise my rates, but my heart says that isn't the answer.
It's been a bad, dreary, miserable day with almost no love in it. I'm Eeyore stuffed with sawdust and only have thorns to eat. Pity me! Please, bring out the wailing violins! I just want the day to be over so that tomorrow may come, fresh with no mistakes in it.
P.S. Stop by the actual blog webpage to cast your all important vote regarding my upcoming tattoo. The comments were an even cast for Pip and Sprout/Frog and Pig. Help break the tie!
Misty watercolor memories....
The other day I asked Pooky what happened during my stay at Centralia Hospital. I don't recall much of it. Just a few bits and pieces of events, but most of it gone. I had even thought I had gone into the hospital following my doctor's appointment on the 18th, but it was the next day. I really don't have any consistent memories until a day or two before the operation on the 29th. Even afterward, some of my memories are spotty.
Pooky said it all wasn't worth being able to remember. There was a lot of pain. A lot of poo, some barfing, and basically a very dark time. He was the one who would drain my gut for me. I assume he did other ostomy maintenance for me.
I wonder if my mind shut down the short-term memory chip because of the pain, or if it was due to the Demerol which seems to have an erasing effect? It could be a combination of both at work.
On Saturday I was brave and accompanied Pooky to a wedding that took place out on the beach. It was raining with thunder and lightining. The bride insisted on getting married outside despite the rain and possibility of being struck by lightining.
We discovered where to go in this state if we want a good old fashioned electrical storm. By the time we hit Aberdeen it was cracking with thunder and real bolts of lightining! We stopped at Aberdeen's World Famous Dog House, and this time I tried their orignal dog while Pooky ate another of their fabulous ½-pound burgers. Next time we go out that way I'm getting a burger again because they are so unique and original. The hot dog was good, but could beat my all-time favorite of Hot Dog Johnny's in Butzville, New Jersey.
We had supper at Galway Bay Restaurant in Ocean Shores, a semi-authentic Irish eatery that serves up great food. I call it semi-authentic because their pasties are cooked in puff pastry, which in Ireland it would be a heavy dough. Plus, they also serve pizza and sandwiches that strike me as American food. They do have a more authentic breakfast menu. It doesn't compare to Granny McCarthy's Te Room in the old town section of Bethlehem, PA. Pooky never got to eat there with me, but I did enjoy a spot of tea a couple of times, plus ate their real Irish food. They had this amazing beef shepard's pie recipe that I was able to get a copy of. I should make it again, or better yet, just fly out to Pennsylvania and eat myself silly! It's been far too long since we've been there and I am starting to have NEEDS for the food back there!
I need to create my own Shrone tartan since one doesn't exist! Why, it would include purple and other gaudy colors in the plaid, of course! Purple is a shrone color.
We had a quick wedding today done via bartering. The guy is a tatoo artist and I'll be getting a claddagh tattoo on my back, just above the tailbone in that little dimple area. I'm trying to decide if I should have "Pip and Sprout" or "Frog and Pip" above the claddagh. Below it will read "Leap Day 2004". Inquiring minds want to know: which do you prefer? (1) Pip and Sprout or (2) Frog and Pig?
Just so you'll know, our nicknames for each other are Pip and Sprout, and at our wedding we were pronounced as "frog and pig" stealing the line from The Muppets Take Manhattan in which Kermit and Miss Piggy are told: Because you share a love so big / I now pronounce you frog and pig!
For my birthday we'll go to the Puyallup Fair and I found out that our local medical equipment store will do a daily rental of a wheelchair for $15. Not bad considering the Fair will rent you one on a first-come, first-served basis. This will allow us to go to the Fair later in the day instead of trying to get there when the gates open. I hope by next week I'll be up to eating more so we can sample more Fair offerings.
I had some words of wisdom to share, mostly from watching once again The Green Mile and Shadowlands, but Pooky wants to watch a movie now, so I shall post my ponderings about why I like these two movies and what prompted me to watch them tomorrow after I get back from my surgeon's visit. It's been two weeks since the surgery and I'm getting around ok, though I still feel like I have lethargic blood.
Tally ho my dear ones, and make pleasant dreams!
Finally my prescription for gabapentin came in. When we went to pick it up on Friday the clerk said they had to get approval from my insurance, and I was nonplussed by this information because the prescription had been filled before without any issues.
It turns out that I really needed the gabapentin because my body went all wonky without it. Plus, I ran out of the duragesic patches so that was also a shock to my body. Compounded with my period I've been creeping around.
Today I slept for most of the day, induced by the various medications to keep my gut in check. My brain is stuffed with mental lint. It will take a few days for my system to get used to the gabapentin.
What concerns me is that I wonder about dependency on these various medications. The goal is to be medication-free, but it would seem that my body doesn't want to behave. Argh!
I've got positive things to say about the dinner with my dad, but will save it for tomorrow when my brain isn't so linty.
I get an e-mail from my father last night asking me if, as a belated wedding gift, I'd have a use for a Kitchen-Aid mixer, and if so, what color would I prefer?
Being that I've wanted one for more than a year now, I said I didn't have one and gave him a list of four potential color choices, depending on what would be available.
After I sent the message it occurred to me that my mother had said (before she turned momentarily evil just 4 days before our wedding) that she had wanted to get me the mixer as a wedding gift.
(Part of me does have some trust issues with my father actually coming through with the gift. He has made promises before and not delivered, so 30% of me is stuck in the past thinking he won't come through. Yet, there is a certain amount of honeymooning going on right now as far as reestablishing our relationship. He's going to do nice things to make up for lost time, and to also gain approval. I'm guilty of it with making the cheescake.)
Negative Heat Index
Pooky didn't even threaten to install the window A/C because I said if he comes home late enough it should be cool enough.
Despite Deneen's wish for me to sweat it up, I am no where near breaking a sweat. I'm disappointed. I so very much want to strip naked and die from heat and humidity! Tonight's dinner was hot, homemade vegetable soup.
I should tell the story of my first summer in Pennsylvania. It was one of those record-breaking summers for heat, and I had never felt humidity before. I believed that the world was coming to an end and I did nothing but bemoan and lament that people could live in such climatic conditions and not perish. By the following summer I was conditioned to the elements and was begging for more heat and moisture as I believe my DNA had been transformed into something like a tropical orchid's.
But never, never, never have I been able to tolerate the cold of winter. Even here where the winter isn't much of a winter, Pooky and I have thermostat wars and $400/mo gas bills and I take long, hot baths so I can feel my toes. Granted the gas bill would be much less if we replaced the original windows and tore up the walls to put in real insulation, plus replaced the doors. Yes, we could put plastic wrap over the windows and shrink wrap them but we have 50 windows in our beloved 90 year old home.