The Scoundrel

It was a bitterly cold morning in January when I found him. I had been at a patients home and since she wasn’t doing well I needed something warm and furry to hug, so the animal shelter being on my way back to town I stopped in. Breezed on back to the kennel, intent on finding a dog to pet for a few minutes when a tiny ball of fur alone in one of the cages caught my eye.

Just out of curiosity I opened the door of the cage and a tiny ball of brown fur launched himself at my arms. Heart melting, wondering what this tiny bit of life was doing there, I stayed for a long period of time working out some of the logistics. To take him now or come back later? That was solved when one of the workers told me he could catch a disease if left there for long. i gave them my check for $50 dollars, collected the American Kennel Club papers on him and walked out the door. Now what do i do with him while seeing y other patients since I had a full schedule that day, but after a quick change in one schedule we went to see Mackie. She had sitters around the clock so I knew they were all dog lovers. And Mackie had to have her Pekinese put to sleep recently, so we, or rather, the current sitter grabbed the puppy from my arms and told me I would bring him there every day when I worked. Max was named after Mackie as soon as I thought about how fate had entered there as well and my new baby would be safe.

The amazing part though was when we put that 3 month old ball of fur on the bed with Mac and he just curled up contentedly beside her. No playing, just comfort from him taking root!

By the end of my work day I had almost talked myself into believing I might have to give him up, since he had been with them all day and might have forgotten about me. I shouldn’t have worried though. As soon as I walked back in the little scroundrel once again launched himself into my arms.

Our first night together was pretty intense. Who knew a tiny 2 pound puppy could out snore a lumberjack! I was almost asleep when the snoring began and astonished to find the culprit was so tiny.

Time passed and Max grew a little bit. Bathtime was always a challenge. I wanted a clean smelling puppy in the bed with me and he wanted to just spend his time dry and above baths, But during the night the rain began, and the Little Scroundral wanted to go outside. I thought he had to do business, only to find out he just wanted to play in every puddle he could find. Put him in a tub of warm water and he was sure I was trying to drown him but those puddles were just what he wanted for the night. I had to take him in and dry him off a few times when he declined doing his business and just headed for the nearest puddle.

Since it was only a few more hours before I had to leave for work I decided to ignore his next attempt to go outside. He got me back for that one! I had to take all the bedding off and wash it before any stain set in, using up the only sleep time left. After work that day I got a cage to put him in at night. If he messed up his own cage he had to live in it but he already seemed to know that. After a few nights I was only opening the door of the cage that was kept on the bed and he would go in without my putting him there, or cuddle up beside me for awhile before going in. I guess all that space was just too much for a handful of fur.

He grew, but not by much, and became the most loving little part of me I had ever known before. Cuddling a German Shepherd is nice, but that tiny mite was special.

Max has been gone for several years now, but I still miss him all the time. He knew when I needed to play and also when I just needed to be quiet and he acted accordingly.

So, I’ve found a few photos of my little guy. Some are duplicates but I don’t know how to get them off. Barely know how to put them on here.

Tital Number ?

That’s how I sometimes respond to the “Add Title” beginning. Really, do they think I don’t know to give things a title? Okay, so maybe I forget occasionally, but I usually find out before I publish.

There are admittedly times when I am writing a poem and the words are flying off the end of my pen while I’m struggling to think of a title. And I might have a few that still don’t have titles yet, but since I’m the only one who sees them, who cares? Eventually I’ll redo it and add a title, or rip it up and put in File 13 where it doesn’t need a title, but again, who cares? I seldom show anyone most of the poetry now.

So, yesterday I visited my doctor again. First time in a year because I was not happy with him. This time though, I turned the tables. I not only took a nurse with me but had a long list of problems to show him. Since most of them deal with MS issues and he deals with Geriatrics, he skipped a few, and added a fist full of new meds to my short list, elimanating only 2 of the previous ones. Not sure how that will work out, but at least if I fall here there will be someone coming along eventually to help me back up. Sigh! I can remember being able to cross my feet and lower myself down without needing help. Now it would take a Platoon of Marines to get me back up — or two of the nurses and/or aides here. Not to say the Marines wouldn’t be nice to have around once in a while, but I would hate to have to call out them out just to help me up. If one or two of them wanted to stay and visit for a while —— okay self, cut out the dreaming!

So hard to believe Sunday is already Easter! I can remember back when that meant a new hat, usually with a wide brim, new patent leather shoes — Mary Jane style, and never forget the matching purse and the white gloves. You just didn’t show up in church without those. This Sunday I’ll wear my recycled pink outfit, all made a couple of years ago and finally able to stuff myself into again. Having lost a couple of inches I won’t even have to lie down to get the pants zipped, and fortunately the jacket was a bit large anyway, so it will hide any bulges that can still appear.

Why do we pay so much attention to what people are wearing to church on Easter? And why has that pink outfit hung in my closet all winter when I could have been wearing it all along? At least there’s no more rules about wearing white shoes after September or before May. Or was it after August? No month with an “r” in it now that I think about it. Hopefully that is one outdated rule. I’ve been wearing winter white boots year round lately because they feel good.

I have been thinking about all the abuse my feet got when I was young. Strappy high heels were the fashion and I do mean HIGH! Like 5 inch heels. Now I’m paying the piper for all those times. And so thankful my daughter never tried to follow in my high heels. Always sensible shoes for her! I should have been so smart.

I think I’ve mentioned a time or ten that I collect “sayin’s” as I call them, quotations that strike my fancy. I’m gonna add a few of my favorites tonight, just because I’ve run out of words and ideas. And what a sad situation that is!

“I’m an odd combination of “really sweet” and “DONT MESS WITH ME!” Author unknown

Some Snoopy humor here: “I’m multitasking. I can listen, ignore, and forget at the same time.” Woodstock, found on Pinterest

“Be yourself! No one can say you are doing it wrong”! Author unknown and Very true!

“I can’t believe how old people my age are”.

“Does running late count as exercise?:

“All my passwords are amnesia protected!”

“Brains are awesome. I wish everybody had one!” (especially one running for office or jailbird)

And finally a Life Tip: “When nothing goes right, GO TO BED!” Sounds like a good idea. I think it’s a Charlie Brown quote, but don’t quote me on that.

AAAARRRRGGGHHHH!

Once again I began a post, had to leave, hit the “save draft” and now am back and the draft is gone. Such a wonderful post it would have been, all about the fun of having MS along with some even more fun symptoms. But now I forget if I remember it or not.

To begin with, AGAIN, March is MS Awareness month, a detail I’ve, well, face it, I knew in the back of my mind about it but when it came time to sit down and write about it I got side tracked every time. That seems to happen more often lately. Not that I’m forgetful, of course (and if you believe that there’s a blue bridge across the Ohio River I’ll sell you), it’s just that there is too much going on in the world to remember a little thing like the fact that my MS is acting up at the moment.

Sure, as if I could forget that! I was doing some research, or if I call it like it is, snooping for something new on the ‘net this morning, and on Web MD I found some new to me symptoms of this fun disease. Oh, in case you are wondering, I’m not really having much fun with it but trying to put it in a new light that makes it easier to accept sometimes.

Anyhoo, I’ve been one complete itch lately. No rash, nothing to indicate a reason for the itching, just nerve wracking itching all over. Thought it was an allergic reaction to something, so switched laundry detergent with no better results, switched body wash, equally no change, clawed a few furrows in my skin with a lot of results but no answers except practice in creative bandaging.

This morning, on Web MD, I finally found my answer. Itching without a rash or any other kind of reason is a sign of MS activity. I think I forgot to see if there’s an antidote though. Phooooyyy! Oh well, at least now I know why I’m clawing the skin off. Now all I need is a body bandage, which, of course, I would also claw off as soon as it was in place.

I’ve known MS has multiple symptoms for years, probably because I’ve had it for years. The headaches can be debilitating but I’m used to those. Overheating can really do a number on the MS prisoners symptoms, which can lead up to death if overheated for too long. Fortunately I’m cold natured so as long as I stay inside I bundle up in long sleeves and at times even my coat and hood to warm up. I discovered several other icky symptoms that I won’t relate here, even though they really run me ragged at times. When they aren’t sending me down to kiss the floor, that is. While I wouldn’t mind a short trip, that’s not the kind I prefer. At least my bones seem to be stronger now, thanks to the Vitamin D and the Folic Acid.

I’m beginning to wonder if my laptop has MS as well, since it sometimes seems to have a mind of its own. To say it’s acting up at the moment is putting it mildly. But then again, this is the third time I’ve opened it up in the past 2 hours. First time was to look for a photo, 2nd was to eat lunch (which was delicious) and now this time when it opened immediately and right to the correct page. We are getting used to each other after only 3 years of continued use.

This has been a pretty good week. On Tuesday I got a call from my sister who lives in Colorado asking me if I wanted a visitor. Of course I did, and wondered when she would be travelling to KY. She was coming in my door as I turned the phone off! I love surprises like that. She had spent a week with my older brother, helping to take care of him when he would let her. She brought me a couple of photos of him, looking better than anyone has a right to look with his little dog on his shoulder. HUH? He once made fun of his wife’s Maltese, although truth be told, he could often be seen cuddling that little mop! I’m not sure what breed Lacy is, but she is smaller than the Maltese, Sophie. Fits in the palm of his hand, but he does have large hands. He’s looking good in the photo. If I didn’t know he is dying of cancer I sure would never think it when I look at that photo. Meg was on her way back to Colorado but being tired she decided to stop by and see me first. We spent a very pleasant afternoon, going down the hall to visit our aunt as well.

Friday evening, late, my daughter popped in, bringing me some of my favorite Monterrey Spaghetti, a double batch this time. Her hubby was running in a marathon in Owensboro on Saturday and they were spending a couple of nights in town. He stayed at the hotel gearing up for the 13.3 mile race that began at 7:30 Saturday morning. Just looking at that number makes me tired but he runs them a lot. He finished at 10:25 and while the original plan was for them both to come for a longer visit he had to beg off to recover from the run. According to him, this race was better than than the ones he runs at home because we are mainly flat land while Frankfort is hills and valleys. I love the guy a lot but sometimes wonder about loose screws when he runs these races! All of my screws would fall out if I tried, but then I don’t have that many left to worry about. They are on their way back home now, where he will continue recovering from the run. I found a cartoon somewhere that describes my outlook on running: “If you ever see me running past your house, please come out and kill the huge animal that is chasing me”.

So, my daughter walked in just as I was putting the final stitch in her birthday quilt. Her birthday was March 7, but since she was coming in I didn’t get in a rush finishing the quilt. I’m going to attempt to post a photo of it — my 3rd time attempting that today, because I couldn’t remember what I used to take it. Found finally on the Kindle. So, here goes, I hope!

It worked! Of course not immediately, but after several failed attempts to bend it to my will. The Tulip Quilt is twin sized rather than the lap quilt I had intended it to be. Now I want to make another just like it for myself. Time will tell.

The Eve of Destruction

Another one that is just as relevant today as when it came out during the Vietnam war. This is Barry McGuire who popularized the song written by P. F. Sloan and recorded in 1965.

I wanted to add the lyrics to this song but it is protected by copywrite and I do not use any material that isn’t my own and is not in the public domain. If you want to see the lyrics, go to a search engine and ask for them. You will find several places, some less strict than others, but again, I don’t knowingly intrude on copywrites unless I have permission from the person holding it.

Sunday Musings

I seem to muse a lot lately. I’ve caught myself talking out loud to myself lately too. I do have an answer for that — sometimes I need advice from an expert, but then I remember the definition for expert. EX, former, SPURT, a drop of water under pressure or a drip, so an expert in this case is a former drip under pressure.

At this age there is a lot of pressure too. Behind the eyes a pressure headache, in the left shoulder severe pain, nothing in my feet but that’s probably because it’s been a few years since I could feel them, pressure on my one remaining half of a brain cell adding up to more headaches. In fact, name all of the different headaches known and right now I think I have all of them.

Okay so back to my musings. Not sure why this memory came up, but probably due to the time change. My kids were at the beginning and end of the bus route for school so mornings they had to be waiting at 5 a.m. It was the country and there were a lot of miles to cover. That was bad enough when we were on standard time but daylight time? They rode to school and waited for it to open in the dark, then rode home in the dark as well.

My older son created a mother’s worst nightmare one afternoon. I met the school bus so I could get a little bit of exercise and watched the kids get off. The neighbors daughter, Gina, Mike and — and– now why wasn’t that kid getting off the bus. The driver got out and told me he wasn’t there when she was loading the kids, she had waited but finally someone told her he had gone home with a boy in his class, so she went on. Okay, we ran home that day and I got the car keys and broke all speed limits getting to the school and from there to the home of the boy Don had decided to spend the afternoon with. His mom came out and told me she had sent him back to the school to wait for the bus. He wasn’t at school when we got back there, no one was there except one of the staff who remembered him getting on another bus with his cousin, totally different route! So we broke another speed record getting over to that farm, arriving in time to see him getting off the bus with a huge smile on his face. I hate to say it but the smile didn’t stay long. First I hugged him and then kinda asked in a less than loving voice what he thought he was doing! By the time we got back home though I was over the panic and just wanted to put it all behind me.

In those days I baked a lot of cookies. I got a recipe book from the library and decided I would try every cookie recipe in that book. And every day I would make at least two kinds of cookie, a tried and true one and a new one, this way discovering a lot of delicious cookies I ordinarilly wouldn’t bake. And every day each kid took a huge bag of cookies to school for sharing with the rest of the class, as well as a bag for the teacher. What else could I do? Some recipes made 6 dozen cookies and I had to clear them out so I could try a new recipe.

For some reason I started thinking about dumplings this afternoon. Not sure why, but there it was in my head. My grandmother taught me how to make her dumplings when I was barely able to reach the stove top and I became the official dumpling maker in the family. With 4 brothers all clamoring to be the official taste tester it sometimes was difficult to have enough to put on the table since they all said they had to taste each batch. Yep, I said batch. I know most people cut them and dump them all into a pot of boiling broth and stir them until they are considered done. The result looks and tastes more like boiled dough to me. Our way was to put only a few in the broth at a time, leave alone for a couple of minutes and then carefully turn to cook the other side, resulting in a puff of what looked more like a biscuit inside, a bit thinner than a biscuit and tasting like the broth, whether chicken, turkey, beef or vegetable. And now I really, really want some dumplings! Our family kind though, thank you.

I seem to spend a lot of time remembering those days on the farm. I loved it then and sure miss them now. But things have changed out there too. The boys tell me the roof fell in on the old house we lived in and it’s not there any more. I think those were some of the best and worst years of my life, raising children, raising a garden, canning and freezing everything I could pick out of that garden. Sweet corn was frozen, at least what remained after the cows got out in it every year, usually during the night before I planned to pick it. They were watching for it to get just the best kind of ripe, and sometimes just wouldn’t budge when I would try to chase them out of my corn patch. Fortunately we always planted enough to feed an army so there was always enough to go around. It was just the principle of the thing.

Now I’m feeling nostalgic as well as hungry for dumplings. A lot of stuff was still in that old house. Old LP records, books I didn’t have space to take with me when I left the farm. A closet full of canned fruit and vegetables, all on shelves Edd built for me, but turned around the wrong way for ease of use. Since the suit I made for him one year had the buttons on the wrong side I guess I can’t complain about the shelves. I wonder if they are still there in the rubble. The house has been empty since shortly after I left there in 1995 because his second wife refused to live in a broken down house that couldn’t be heated in the winter or cooled in the summer. But I loved it there. And an interesting aside about that house. Wendell Ford grew up in it, before Edd and his brother bought that as their first farm. Ford was once a Senator from Kentucky, probably the last good one we had.

One Tin Soldier

Hopefully this will work. This is a song from 1969 that I fell in love with back then and never stopped loving. I think it is worth listening to and watching, with a message that holds truer today then even back then. A story about peace and greed. I hope it actually works and you can listen and really hear the story behind the words and music.

Totally Frustrated

How is it possible that something that worked like a charm yesterday doesn’t work at all today? After trying for months to get my Brother printer to work I finally invested in an HP printer. It came in, I set it up and enjoyed printing off a lot of information, but then the building WiFi went down cutting that off.

So, this afternoon I had a signal again, opened the laptop and the printer, made sure both were on the same network and tried to continue the printing. Now the printer is in error state according to the laptop but working properly according to the printer. AAAaarrrrggghhhh! How on planet Earth is this continuing to happen? At least I can still send this one back, but what do I try next? I WANT TO PRINT OUT MY INFORMATION. Consider that last line my shouting at the world of electronics even though I know it is a futile attempt.

There have been a few other frustrations lately. Well, not as serious as losing the WiFi last night and again temporarily this afternoon. How on earth did I get so hung up on the Internet? Probably has a lot to do with all of my books being on my Kindle and unavailable wihout the Internet. Especially when in the middle of an Agatha Christie story. And Miss Marple at that!

Fortunately I do have other interests, like quilting. So when I was almost finished with the latest quilt, I pulled a bottle of OJ out of the fridge and shook it up because of settlement, began opening it when it began to fizz out all over the place, including the new quilt. Huge Sigh! Now how does orange juice that is still supposedly new manage to ferment in the refrigerator? Use by date was still a month away, bottle previously unopened, but fizzy OJ anyway. I give up on that one. Frankly I didn’t know orange juice WOULD ferment.

Looking inward now to find something good about today. It was the candy sale day and for $3 I got 30 mini Hershey Bars, Heath bars and 3 Musketeers bars. And I was able to pay for them by unloading a bag of change that had been weighing me down. The ladies who were selling the candy helped me a lot by sorting out all of the small change leaving only the quarters for the most part behind. That was good. And my bag doesn’t weigh a ton now.

Next week I will begin Physical and Occupationel Therapy once again. That usually does a lot of good as far as my efforts to stay erect while attempting to walk are concerned. The OT will be for that pesky left shoulder that I had the replacement surgery on. It hurts more now than it did before the surgery 11 years ago this month. Big sigh! I’ve heard it helps for some people but not for others. I guess I’m one of the others but at least I can still use my left hand. Just have a few problems washing my hair and getting into a coat or flannel shirt. If I forget and start in with my right arm I have to take it off and start over putting the left arm in first. And to think I started dressing myself as a very young child with few problems.

Speaking of dressing myself, when I was working for Hospice I got dressed in dim light one morning, no problem that I could think of except the pants felt wrong. Went on to work, Monday morning staff meeting, back to my desk and tried to put something in the pants pocket. Couldn’t find the pocket! Stood there for a few, looking down at the pants and finally noticed the sewn in pleat in the front was also missing. Yep, I had them on backward. That answered the question of why they felt so strange when I moved or sat down. My very helpful grandson told me later to look for the label the next time because that always goes in the back. Thanks E! You should have told me that earlier.

I think I’ll attempt a few photos. Hopefully no frustrations this time. I kinda remember how to do that.

But before I try, I found a quote on Pinterest that really hits home. “It’s not the forgetting that bothers me. It’s the remembering that I’ve forgotten to remember what I’m trying to remember that makes me crazy!”

And one more frustration before I look for some photos. I just tried to find some photos after checking my “comments” page but WP kept me bouncing back to a paid subscription page. Sorry WP. Been there done that a couple of times and was pirated both times. Not interested in trying it again, especially since you refused to help me get my pirated blogs sites back.

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Photos are another frustration, but the one with the sailboat is the latest quilt, almost finished, the one the OJ erupted on. The violets were taken here on the grounds — last spring. Lousy weather prevents looking outside lately. The doll dress is one of the Barbie dresses, and the last photo, which I’ve probably published already is the tomato vine I grew in the window while at the Roosevelt House. I had a fairly good harvest by the time it finished, grape tomatoes that were soooo good.

I THINK I’M HUNGRY

No, not so much for food. I’m hungry for some good news. So tired of all the political rhetoric in the news, in my email from people running for office from other states wanting me to send them some money. Why on earth would I want to send money to help elect a Republican from some other state? Or even a Democrat for that matter.

I’ve always heard that money is the root of all evil, and so far a few people are proving that. Take the former idiot President, for example. I read a few days ago that he has all the earmarks of the anti-christ. I had to agree with that, although there have been others in the past that made me wonder. None as bad as the present one though.

I’m hungry for the touch of a human hand, held out in friendship on days when the sun refuses to shine and my mood reflects that. I grew up in a large family but always seemed to be the one who was alone. Probably because of the asthema and sinus infections I had as a child, and in the case of the sinuses still have. It’s not fun having to stay inside while all the other kids are out playing and learning to interface with each other. I never had that experience and as a result was alway shy around other people, never knowing what to say and with a voice so soft that nobody heard me when I did think of something.

Don’t think my life has been terrible though. I found a life in books and music that I otherwise might never have known. The books almost got me in trouble one night though. I was taking a page from my mother’s book and reading with a flashlight under the covers. The book was “LIttle Women” and I was at the part where Beth was dying, and being me, crying right along with the March family. Mother thought I was having another sinus or asthma attack and came in with some medication while I was hiding the flashlight and the book under the pillow. Since the one thing she used that always made us feel better was a hot toddy I drank it and then settled down to finish the book after she left the room.

I probably would never have thought to do that if my mom hadn’t told us about having to read “Tale Of Two Cities” in high school. She was a boarder and the school library only had two copies of the book. As luck would have it, she didn’t get the book until the afternoon before the report was due, so she read it by flashlight after lights out. She always talked about how much she hated that book so I was aprehensive when I was a boarder at the same school and it was on the required reading list. Since I got the book early on and loved it so much I read it in an afternoon, I couldn’t understand why she had not liked it, but after she told about the flashlight I could understand better. Dickens is not an author to be read under wraps, so to speak. And of course now having remembered that, it’s time to dig out a copy of that one and read it again. I have to admit I wore out several copies of “LIttle Women” over the years, but it’s now on my Kindle and safe from dropping —I shouldn’t have said that. Fortunately the Kindle is in a good case and dropping isn’t as dangerous as it would be without that case, but it’s also old and beginning to act up by going black on me at times. I have discovered that by resetting it to factory default it will come back for now, but have had to reset it several times lately.

Whew! That took some time to write. I used to be able to type faster and more accurately, but that was when I thought I wanted to be a secretary. It didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t what I really wanted. After watching the nurses taking care of my dad when he was dying I decided I wanted to work for Hospice some day. Happy to say that mission was accomplished a few years later and was the most fulfilling job I ever had. I might have said most fulfilling time of my life, but that still belongs to the days when my babies were little and still needed me.

Oh gee, I’m hungry for an arm filled with a baby now. Maybe it’s because today is my baby’s birthday and I kinda wish he was still the cute and cuddly little guy from 14 birthdays ago. He’s still cute but not so cuddly these days, but he really does act 14 around me most of the time. It’s hard to believe that grown up responsible man is still the baby I remember when I remember the past.

I’ve mentioned before that I love quotations and have a few notebooks full of them. Tonight I found a few that seem to relate to my mood, so I’ll share a couple of them. You can stop reading if you are bored. I mean really, how would I ever know?

“No one needs to paint himself into a corner: no one needs to be completely hemmed in by circumstances; no one needs to be the victim of his biography.” — George Kelly

“The essence of creativity is figuring out how to use what you already know in order to go beyond what you already think.” — Jerome Bruner

Several have hit home for me in the past, but those two just stuck out in front of my face tonight.

And now I’m hungry for a snack and there is a container of yogurt screaming my name, so I think I’ll just close this off now. After the yogurt I might just try something creative before my one hour of sleep drops me into a stupor.

KODAK Digital Still Camera