IS THIS TUNA ??

I haven't written in a long while . . .   sorry about that.  Busy busy busy?.  Or is it Lazy lazy lazy ?  You pick.  I am either super busy doing nothing important and when I have nothing important to do I just want to sit and binge watch "This is Us".    Never watched it before and can't stop watching it now.  

ANYWAY . . .    I have been cleaning this morning.  Because of the whole foot nonsense I have not been able to clean the house in weeks.  I would sneak in a quick vacuuming when The Man wasn't around to tell me to "GET OFF YOUR FOOT" but other than that the dust bunnies were gathering and preparing to attack.  And so this morning when The Man went out to his pulmonary rehab session I gathered my mop, broom, vacuum, dust cloth and then sat down to rest.  I haven't actually cleaned anything yet but my good intentions are there. (It's a wonder I knew where any of my cleaning supplies were.) 

As I sat down in the living room to check my email before getting to work The Man arrived home. My first question for him each day is, " What have you eaten today?"   The standard answer is ALWAYS, "A donut or two and a nutrition drink".  (Thank goodness for the VA and their suggestion and supply of Ensure. Without it The Man would get NO protein in his diet at all. I DO try but it is an uphill battle.) As usual today's answer was exactly what I expected. I then asked if he wanted some lunch. The answer of course was "yes" because he expected me to get up and make lunch.  Because I was sitting in my recliner in the living room and he was standing in the kitchen can you guess what my thoughts were on ME making lunch?   I suggested The Man open the fridge and have one of the several things that were sitting in there just waiting for someone to eat them.  There is a piece of steak leftover from dinner 2 nights ago.  A container of tuna salad left over from lunch on Monday. There is bologna and chili and several other "leftovers" just waiting for someone to heat them up and eat them.  It took a little encouraging for The Man to agree to open the fridge and as he stood there blankly staring like a deer in headlights I just watched to see how this would play out.  It was his next question that prompted me to write todays blog.

As The Man stood in front of the fridge holding a small container of something he turned to me and asked, "Is this tuna?"   

Please tell me if there is ANYONE on God's Green Earth who can NOT identify tuna fish by its smell. !! All he had to do was open the container and give it a look and a sniff and he would immediately know he had hit the mother load in finding tuna.  

He is still alive and I did not even blink when he asked if he had indeed found the tuna. 

 But I knew I had to put it all in writing so that when some day, way in the future, when I am sitting in my old age home wondering if I had dreamed all this I could go back to my blogs and reassure myself that these memories are real.   I'm sure it will strike me as just as funny then as it does now.    

HOW MANY DAYS IN YOUR WEEK ?

 I have always thought there were 7 days in a week.  From kindergarten I was under the impression that a week consists of 7 days where ever you may live.  There are seven days in a week in China. Seven days in a week in South Africa and seven days in a week even in space.   Apparently I have been misinformed.  

According to The Man there are 3 days in a week.  Yes,  I said THREE.   I don't know where he learned this but I tend to think it is a part of being a man.  Husband used to have the same problem.  Sometimes when I would ask the man in my life to do something like changing the wiper blades on my car, , (like I would ever ask him to do that),  he would say, "Sure, I'll get to it this week".  Three of MY weeks later I would still be waiting for  the job to get done. Apparently a week in a mans world can be any number of days from three to three hundred or more.   It is a puzzle to me. 

The occasions for short weeks are when I am sick or recovering from something.  

This past Monday I had a small skin cancer cut out of my foot. It turned out to be a big nothing. The Moh's surgery only took one cut to remove all the cancerous cells. Because of the location on the side of my foot I had to go to a plastic surgeon to have the incision closed.  It took a few stitches covered with a large compression bandage and the instructions to keep my foot elevated and STAY OFF MY FEET FOR A WEEK !!  No problem ! Except that foolish me figured on SEVEN FULL DAYS of rest and relaxation sitting in a chair with my foot resting on a pillow while The Man took care of me.  I didn't expect breakfast in bed, although that would have been lovely, but I did hope for at least a few nights of not having to stand in the kitchen cooking dinner.

Apparently I am delusional !   I should know better.  I have been to this rodeo before.

The evening of the surgery I did get to sit with my foot up thanks to my oldest child and his wife.  They bought us dinner and had it delivered. (They live in Georgia) Unfortunately The Man and I had had a big burger on our way home from the doctor so we weren't hungry for dinner.  The second day I was making my own breakfast when our good friends Jeanne and Frank called to say they were in Florida and would like to come over and bring dinner.  Because we had plenty of food from Kyle and Bridget's delivery we had dinner all ready here.  The 4 of us enjoyed a wonderful chicken dinner that I heated up. Jeanne brought other food and dessert so we were all full.   I will give The Man credit because he did the entire clean-up.  Way to go Mr Man. !!!!!!     Last night I heated up some left over Chili that The Man had made over the previous weekend and once again he did the clean up.  (I must say here that just putting dishes in the dish washer is exhausting for the poor guy.   I REALLY appreciate all he does. It's not easy for him.)

And now we come to today and our THREE day week.  "Keep my foot up for ONE WEEK". Doctors orders.   "KEEP OFF MY FEET FOR ONE WEEK". Doctors orders.   I understand that but apparently the issue lies in how many days make up YOUR week ?!

This morning The Man decided we needed to work on the menu for Super Bowl Sunday.  It will just be the two of us and Jeanne and Frank.  The Man decided we should not do a meal, rather just finger food like wings and chips.  We were sitting together making up a shopping list when The Man looked at me and asked me if I was going to the store today.   STORE ?????   SHOPPING CARTS ??????  PARKING LOTS ??????  WALKING ???????

I was very good.  I very calmly reminded him that I was not supposed to be WALKING !!!!!!!!!  To which I got an, "Oh right. We can go tomorrow".  Today is DAY THREE post surgery.  Tomorrow is DAY FOUR post surgery.   

That doesn't sound like a week to me !

EIGHTY IS THE NEW ONE HUNDRED

 I am not aging well.  It is becoming increasingly evident that I will not live to be 100.  Nor do I want to if I have to put up with all the parts of my body deciding they ALL want attention.  NOW !!   Good Grief Charlie Brown, when did I get old ???   But it could be worse.

The other night my cousins husband came over for dinner.  His wife, my cousin passed away last May from congestive heart failure.  They were here in Florida for 2 weeks and she looked terrible.  She was horribly swollen and EVERYONE told her to go the the ER.  But being from my mother's side of the family she did not go.  In fact not only did she not go to the doctor down here she flew home to NY and waited a week before she went to her doctor up there.  She was dead 2 weeks later. (That will NEVER be me because I am at some doctor every other week. In fact my GP is offering me a job because I am there so often.)

Back to "cousin" Ken. (Names have been changed)  My cousin was only 75 when she died.  Her husband just turned 80 and he is NOT a happy camper.   The poor guy told us the story of how his wife died and his adventures as a widower. His first major shocker, (which I can't imagine he didn't know all along), was that his now dead wife was a HORDER.  I knew that just from going to thrift shops with her when ever she was in Florida.  Thrift shops were her idea of Heaven.  We never came home empty handed.  

And so last week when her husband arrived at their condo down here he had to go shopping for a POT to boil water in.   There are at least 5 full sets of dishes in the kitchen cabinets but not a single pot to cook in.  (They NEVER at home when in FL so why she needed all those dishes I will never know.).  At their home in NY Ken said he couldn't believe all the crap that was in the house. (Being a man he never noticed?)  He has spent the past 6 months throwing out 95 percent of the stuff in the house and he says it is still cluttered.  

Once the house "cleaning" was done Ken had time to think.  And he decided he is not happy.  Naturally he misses his wife.  With her gone there is no one to tell him what to do.  What and when to eat. Where to drive and how to get places. There is no one there cooking for him, doing laundry, shopping. The poor guy is LOST and alone.  So what does any single male do in this situation?   He joined a dating site.  (I almost squirted soda out my nose when he told us that.  My Man did an excellent job keeping a straight face. )

Now please do not think that I am looking down on dating sites.  There is someone out there for everyone and these places do their best to help you find that special someone.  BUT . . .  I think there may be an expiration date.  Ken shared with us that he was very honest when he filled out his form.  He is in fairly good health, (although when he walked up our path he was very stooped over.)  He loves to play golf, he is single AND he is 80.    Apparently it is the part about being 80 that is a turn off for anyone under the age of 90.  

I told him he was a hot commodity down here and all he has to do is sit by the pool and the women will flock to him like ants on an Oreo cookie.  He told me he wasn't interested in "those" women.  (Because they are all as old as he is?).  He would rather check out the "babes" on the computer with the high hopes of finding someone to share his life.  I REALLY didn't want to burst his bubble but SERIOUSLY GIRLS, Who in their right mind is going to take on an 80 year old man who has been catered to for the past 50 years ??????????   And he doesn't have millions of dollars !   

The Man and I are still talking about our dinner with Ken . . . I feel for the guy but HOLY COW !!!

A REMINDER

 Every so often we need a reminder of how special we are.   Not bragging or boasting or patting myself on the back for anything but I think we all tend to forget that we ARE special.  Each in our own crazy way. 

I forget that fact often!   Every day starts with our thinking of all the things we have to get done in the next 24 hours.  We get up and jump into the "daily grind". (Well, not so much jump these days but you know what I am saying.).  The day starts, our brains start, our bodies hopefully start, even if they aren't working on all the burners . . . we do start.  And we are off to the rat race of another day.  

Every day brings new adventures and challenges.  Some good, some bad but ALWAYS a challenge.  Taking care of the family, clean the house, shopping, grabbing a mouthful of food as we work our way through the day.  (Usually more than just one mouthful).   Hopefully we take a few moments for ourselves but that is always the last thing we consider.  It's always about the family, friends and home.  

(Of course when you get to be a certain age much of your time is spent "taking care of yourself" but not in the way we would like.  For me taking care of myself would involve a deserted island in the Caribbean complete with a good book and lots of snacks and drinks. That never happens.  The reality of "taking care of ourselves" involves lots and lots of doctor visits.  There is always something going wrong with this old body. Like a 1945 Ford my parts always need repairing and replacing.)

All of this "living" wears us down physically and mentally.   And when I get worn down I forget I am not alone in all of this.  My response to life is to withdraw and climb inside my head. THAT is NOT a good place to be. As the sign by my computer says, "Don't walk a mile in my shoes. Take five seconds inside my head and it will freak you out!"    

It was a wonderful holiday this year but I was exhausted !  January 2 found me ready to die.  My body was hurting and I was feeling lousy.  Even though I slept for almost 12 hours I just couldn't gain any energy.  My stomach was a mess, (thank you Christmas cookies and a truck load of chocolate) My body ached in places I didn't know I had, (Thank you cold and damp weather), and I had a cough and trouble breathing. I was convinced I was ready to croak!   In my head I was running through the list of cancers, viruses, ulcers and any number of other ailments that I KNEW I had contracted.   A visit to my doctor told me otherwise but I still wasn't convinced I was going to make it through the week.  Because I lost my appetite I knew for sure I was heading for being 6 feet under in a matter of days.  

And then I went to play mini golf with a wonderful friend. Theresa is patient with this old lady and she humors me often.  She had stopped by one afternoon and as she was leaving she suggested we go play miniature golf the next day.  And we did !!!!!  We had a great time, laughing the entire time. Just the medicine I needed.  Not a single ache or pain the entire time.  I only started feeling crappy as I approached my home.  That tells you a lot. 

BUT this morning I felt good when I woke up.  (The prednisone the Dr. prescribed is working) I started cleaning out the guest bedroom and I came across a box of greeting cards that people had sent me for birthdays and other occasions.  I decided to go through the box to see just what I had saved.  

It was a reminder !!!!!!!   As I sat here reading these cards from wonderful people in my life it reminded me I am not alone in this journey. But more importantly I am LOVED.  Notes that Mr. Man had written in birthday cards to me reminded me how blessed I am to have this man in my life.   Notes from family reminded me how precious my children and grand children always are. And my friends !!!  WOW !!  

All this is a reminder !  A reminder that I really needed right about now.  Why did I decided to take time to sit and go through these cards today?   Why did I even keep these cards all these years ???  

Why do I forget how Blessed I am ?????? 

CANNOLI FOR COMMUNION

 I always love how my parish decorates the church and alter at Christmas time.  My Florida parish is fairly large, the church is fairly new and it is ALWAYS decorated beautifully. My Michigan church is under major renovation which will hopefully be completed by the end of this month,  During the major construction on the 100+ year old building all the masses are being held in the church basement. It is a small parish so the decorations this year were minimal but lovely.  (I can watch mass in MI on my computer so I was able to attend their Christmas service.). 

When I had returned to Florida this year the pastor of my Florida Church, St. Patrick, commented on the fact that it would be quite a challenge this year to get the church decorated for Christmas. Because Christmas was on a Monday the church would/could not be decorated until after the 11:15 mass on Sunday.  At that time they would have exactly THREE hours to get everything set for the 4:00 Christmas vigil mass.  That is quite a challenge for a church of our size. But sure enough . . . they did it!

                                                  . . .  EXCEPT , , ,

When I walked into church on Christmas morning I felt like I was attending an Italian festival. Flash backs of San Gennaro Italian festival in Little Italy, NYC flashed through my head. From the top of the ceiling at the back of the alter all the way down to the floor the wall was draped in red, white and green fabric.  I expected Christopher Columbus to be on the alter saying mass and instead of the host at communion we would be served Chianti and Cannolis. 

 There were lovely Christmas trees with twinkling white lights, the life size manger scene at the foot of the alter and beautiful green garlands sparkling with lights hanging on the side walls of the alter.  But front and center, larger that life was the Italian flag !!!!   

I came to realize later that the "white" bunting was actually "gold" but the color was so light that it appeared to be white.  I couldn't focus on anything else.  

True to form mass was lovely, our pastor gave a wonderful homily, the choir was accompanied by trumpets and drums but it still felt like I was in Italy.

MY ROBO VAC IS MALE

 If you have ever tried to learn a foreign language you have encountered the bizar phenomenon of objects being male or female.   WHY ?????   

When I went to high school I had to spend 2 years learning a language.  For whatever reason I decided it would be brilliant to take LATIN . . . after all it is the basis for most languages. I would learn so much that would help me with all my other subjects, especially ENGLISH which I was baffled by.  Pronouns, adjectives, semi-colons. Bah Humbug on all of it.  And so I entered my freshman year taking Latin.  It did NOT go well.  I spent 2 years sinking deeper and deeper into failure.  WHO'S BRILLIANT IDEA WAS THIS ?????? And so when I failed the Latin Regents with a 64 (65 was passing) I found myself having to make another attempt at a foreign language in order to graduate with an Academic diploma.  French was my next foray into the land of languages.  (I managed to pass that with a 72.  The God's and teachers just wanted to get rid of me so they were merciful.)

The one thing that I found with most foreign languages is that they assign a "sex" to all objects.  In French every object was either Le, male or LA, female. The door was female . . . LA porte, the refrigerator was male, making it LE.   The shoe was female LA and the hammer is male LE.  (At least that one makes sense).

WHY ?  I do not understand why objects need to have a sex.   UNTIL the other day when I sent my robo vac off and running through my home.  I have named my vacuum Schlurpy. I only turn it on when The Man is not home. Schlurpy loves to suck up The Man's oxygen tubing that is all over the house.  It also like to suck up phone charger cords and it loves to chase The Man around the house. Thus it only gets turned on when he is not home. 

I never thought of Schlurpy as having a gender.  It is just a neutral entity named Schlurpy. But now I know it's true identity   IT IS MALE for sure !!!!   This fact came to light when Schlurpy disappeared on me. As is my usual routine the moment The Man leaves the house for his pulmonary rehab sessions I put up the bar stools in the kitchen, pick up on the counter, pick up throw rugs and turn on my little helper.  I love this thing.  It runs around for over an hour and puts itself back to bed in its charger just in time for The Man to come home.  

All was well with the world, I had my Christmas music on while I was cleaning up the house and Schlurpy was doing it's thing. I can usually hear it moving around, it is not silent but it's not noisy either.  As I moved from room to room I realized I couldn't hear the vacuum running.  If it gets hung up somewhere, which it does do occasionally, it will send up a loud beeping alarm.  That way I can find it and rescue it from its dilemma. It has a tendency to get hung up on door sills and corners of rugs. but this time I heard nothing. No beeping, no alarms, NOTHING !  I turned off the music, noting. I went into each room, noting.  I checked the charging port but it wasn't there either.  What the Heck ???????  Schlurpy went missing !!!!! And so the search began. I checked under the beds, in closets, outside . . . It has been known to escape over the door step if the doors are open. It does a lovely job of vacuuming the lanai. Even the dirt.

But schlurpy was no where to be found.  I had looked in all 4 rooms and the 2 bathrooms.  No schlurpy. As I wandered through the house for the third time I realized the door on the guest bathroom was now closed.  I had quickly looked in there earlier in my search but the door was open. Sure enough, I opened the door and there was schlurpy sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor just idling waiting for me to find it.  The silly thing had gone into the bathroom, went behind the door and as it pushed itself along the door it managed to lock itself in. 

It was at that moment I KNEW . . .  Schlurpy was MALE.  

SUCH A BUSY GUY

 The Man is EXHAUSTED !!!!  He had such a busy day yesterday that he is just exhausted.  

The Man made an appointment at the VA for yesterday at 1:00.   I have asked him over and over to be sure to check the calendar before he makes any appointments.   It's not like he can't find the calendar.  It is hanging on the kitchen wall right next to the fridge.  And should he not be able to find that onE there is a large 2 year desk calendar sitting on my desk. I have learned to use all my kindergarten tricks to help The Man be sure to keep track of appointments for himself.  I write ALL appointments on both calendars. Then I highlight them with either pink for me or blue for him.  Green if it something we will do together. (There aren't many green ones!) I have done this color coded system for at least 4 years now and I think it works great.  We can be sitting at the counter in the kitchen and just look across the room to see the calendar so we can always see who is going where on the next day.  I also ask that when The Man makes an appointment he write it on the calendar. It's a loosing battle.

About a week ago I came home to find that The Man had made an appointment all by his little self. He was very proud of himself and I hated to burst his bubble by telling him I already had an appointment for that day but because it was an hour and a half earlier than his meeting he was convinced it would be fine. The appointment was with a new doctor at the VA but he had no idea what it was for. The VA had called him and it was an appointment that I really should go to with him. He kept telling me I would have PLENTY of time to go to my appointment and then come home, pick him up for his appointment.  Having been to the imaging center at the local hospital every year since I have lived here I know how much they always are running behind,  I tried to explain this to The Man but he was having none of it.   So off I went and home he sat waiting for me to return.  After sitting for 45 minutes at the hospital I texted The Man and told him he would have to go to the VA alone because I had not even gotten into the imaging room, no less have the bone scan.  Off he went alone for his 1:00 meeting and I continued to sit another 15 minutes before being seen.

Here's where it gets insane.   I got out of my appointment at 1:00.  Since I was out and about and The Man was preoccupied I decided to go to the post office and mail The Man's Christmas packages to his 4 grand daughters.  Of course there was a line.  Thirty five minutes later I left the post office and decided to visit Cousin Lu Lu who had just gotten out of the hospital on Sunday.  She was happy to see me but was disappointed that she didn't have her makeup on for my visit.  I got her powder and lipstick so she could get her "face on".  Then she needed her jewelry that had been taken off when she went into the hospital.I found her bracelet, a couple of her rings but the earrings were a challenge.  I finally found ones that she thought would look good with her cotton nightgown.  Once she was gussied up I took her picture so she could see just how "good" she looked.  Then I showed her a picture of her younger sister who just had a stroke and looks like HELL.   Lu Lu was shocked !!!  Her comment .. .  "Well, SHE was always the pretty one.  Now I am the pretty one !!"   (That's pure Lu Lu).   After we got past the makeup and jewelry I offered to pull out her Christmas decorations and decorate her room.  She loved that !! I left there at 3:15 and headed home. 

EXCEPT I needed to. pick up Christmas cards for The Mans grand daughters so I stopped at the dollar store.  Then at the gas station to fill up and because it was now going on 4:00 and I had NOTHING planned for dinner, I stopped at the grocery store and bought some salmon cakes.

I walked into my house at 4:15 feeling beat up and dragged through the mud.   As usual The Man was sitting on the couch watching TV as I came in and sat in my recliner to ask about his appointment. I put my feet up and asked him how he made out.  

He was EXHAUSTED !   He had to walk down a long corridor and back when he got to the VA. The appointment was a complete waste of time and he was EXHAUSTED.   

I commiserated with him for a few minutes before I got back up to make dinner.  

He doesn't have a clue what exhausted IS !!!!!!!!