Insignificant Post

 The world has been breaking my heart lately. It's too big and too awful for me to even try to put into words right now. I haven't the heart for it.

It feels like a cop out, to turn your attention away from the debacle happening, but the fact is, there is not one thing we can do about it besides make our opinions known. 

I do. Here. On social media. I contact our representatives, but they seemingly don't care. Protesting. The next big protest will be on June 14th, "No Kings!" Tim is throwing in as well, which surprises me. He's becoming very outspoken, and when the quiet people begin speaking up, you know for sure that shit's getting real.  

I care a lot about the big picture, but let's face it: I don't matter to the big picture. 

But there is always the small picture. Prepare, plan for our own future, and keep our eyes open. We're working steadily on the new house. Tim worked on windows today. We gave the 4 extra cupboards away. The living room looks quite spacious now that its empty. I did laundry today in my new red washer while we worked. I cleaned and scrubbed a second hand light fixture I bought for the kitchen. 

It's only 53° out there today. It was so cold, and another wet day, so I did not work on my raised beds much. I'm itching to get that all put in. It seems sensible to be as self sufficient, foodwise, as possible. We have our gardens, of course, and we will have three chickens for the eggs, and we have 'speed beef' which is what Levi calls venison. In these days, my hope is to have an abundance, enough that we are able to be generous with others. 

Mostly, I try to make sure that I do not waste an opportunity to be kind. It doesn't change that big picture a bit. It is still awful out there. But tonight, coming home from a party, Tim wanted to stop and get a sandwich. We pulled into McDonalds and in front of the building was someone that I'd written about before. He was bundled up against the damp and the cold, sitting on a bench, his head bobbing as he dozed. 

We were in the drive through line, and it was decided with no discussion. I said what I wanted to do and Tim handed me his wallet. I got out of the car and walked out front. The man dozed still and he twitched in his sleep, but he jerked awake immediately when I touched him. "Go inside, get warm, and grab something to eat," I said. Then I came home and tried once again to convince a traumatized cat that he can trust me. 

I can't do anything about the big picture, but let me look around to see what I can do within the narrow confines of my own insignificance. 

This song starts out with "I believe that I know this place", but moves to "I feel I should know this place" and finishes with "I don't really don't really know this place." 

That's how I feel. My world has turned into something that I no longer know. 

Knees, Washers, and Cats.

 Yesterday was the worst day for my knee since surgery. I need to add that my worst day after surgery bore no comparison to my worst day before surgery, so there is that. 

On Wednesday, PT had me working with light resistance bands, and when I was done with that, I felt it. Strangely enough when it affected me most was when I was not up and moving around. If I was walking, it felt okay, normal pain. But as soon as I sat down, I could feel the muscles tightening up behind my knee and along the lateral side of my shin. And those muscles stayed tight the whole day. It was rainy and cold, so I imagine that my wet feet played into that. I came home last night and used a heating pad to loosen things up. 

PT came today and and we discussed it. He said that this is normal, that the muscles had been moved and manipulated during the surgery, and it would take awhile for that soreness to go away completely. But we did a workout and skipped the resistance bands this time around. He was impressed to see that I can go up stairs alternating legs again. 

So. It is progress. I just need to take more ibuprofen, and keep on pushing.

Allison asked for a picture of my red washtower: Here you are, sistah. We went with the washtower because the controls for the washer AND the dryer are in the middle of the machine. For the stacking units, you had to access the dryer controls at the top of the machine. I'm short. I couldn't reach them without a stool. We knew that, spacewise, we needed to go with a stacking unit. As soon as I saw this, I knew that it would work very nicely.

Yesterday, I used it for the first time, and I must say, we both like it quite a bit. For one thing, compared to a traditional top loading washer, it uses  about 7-12  gallons of water for a wash cycle compared to 17-25 gallons for a top loader with an agitator. That's significant when you're dealing with wellwater, and we haven't quite figured out whether or not the well will be adequate for our needs. We hope so. We sure don't want to have to drill a new water well. 

We are doing the window sills and interior frames. There are only 12 windows, including the sliders in the livingroom, so it's not a lot of work, but it really does make a lot of difference standing in the middle the house and looking around. Coming together. Coming together. 

I've had a new cat hanging around the house in town. It is a long haired gray cat. He has two collars, a flea collar and a collar with a red tag on it. This cat is very wary, hissing and displaying teeth if you get too near him, but it bothered me a lot. With the collars, I knew that he had to belong somewhere. I posted pictures of him over and over on local lost pet sites. I didn't try to approach because 1) I was worried about getting myself bitten and winding up with some sort of infection that would jeopardize the knee surgery and 2), I did not want to scare him away. So we kind of peacefully coexisted for a couple months and no one claimed him. I kept him fed. 

After surgery, I raised my expectations of him a bit, and finally got close enough to see the name on his tag: Freddie. Once again, I put word out with the new information. The mystery has finally been solved. Freddie belonged to a woman down the street who, like me, took care of any feral that showed up at her door. That is how she wound up with Freddie. She had him neutered and made him an indoor cat along with the rest of her 'innies'. However, she lived in a big house and health problems made it too difficult for her. She made the decision to sell out here and move to AZ where her family is. Her new home permitted two cats and so she chose to take the cats she'd had forever. Another neighbor offered to take Freddie, and she gave him to her. 

That particular neighbor lives across the street. It was a strange situation, but she wound up getting evicted. Poor Freddie was, once again, on the street. One can only guess what happened in the interim, because Freddie is a very wary cat. He went ballistic the first time that I walked out the door with a cane. I am going to guess that left to his own devices, he went to his old home where the new residents did not appreciate him hanging around, and treated him badly. 

So. 

What do you do? 

He comes when I call him, and he does not get his dinner unless he allows me to pet him. He and Houdi tolerate each other, touching noses when they pass. I think he can be re-tamed, but I think that it will take a while for him to trust people again. I just cannot bring myself to abandon him once more.

I need to get out of town before I end up with forty-eleven cats. Honest to pete. 

Other news on the cat front: There is something called the Fix'n Wag'n. This is a portable non profit spay/neuter operation that goes from site to site. The fee is $90, and it includes the neuter, vacinations, and topical flea treatment. (Compare this to the vet clinic who gave me an estimate of $700 for the same. The vet also recommended that people stop feeding ferals, something that while it seems practical, anyone with a heart would not ignore something starving or sick on their doorstep.) Anyways, that nonprofit came to our local shelter and spayed a total of 89 animals in a day. It has already agreed to come back. This will make a huge difference for the cat population here, and I am thrilled by this development. 

Pushing the Envelope

Staples out, which is a nice thing. I have been given permission to ditch the walker. Basically, it's pretty much 'do what you can, and stop when you can't'. 

So...I'm pushing the envelope just a bit.

Yesterday, I walked a lot. My sister and I did groceries, some thrift shopping, a trip to Walmart to stock up on animal food, and a stop at a produce warehouse. Then I went to the new house and worked on the raised beds with Tim. I couldn't shovel, but I was able to rake and smooth the dirt, and I got some planting done. For the first time, I walked in the rough, walking down our driveway, and across the road, and took the cemetery path that leads to my sister's house. It was not difficult. I was careful about how I set my feet, but it was a nice walk and now that both legs are the same length, I didn't have a backache at the end of it all. 

So...today marks two weeks out, and I can already tell that this is a going to be a very good thing. 

We are working on strengthening the muscles that support my knee, and that is a whole new game. I move to outpatient PT next week.

It is cold today, in the fifties, very rainy. We did a little work at the new house after my appointment this morning. Tomorrow, I'm doing my first load of laundry in my bright red washing tower, so that is pretty exciting. 

While we are talking about pushing the envelope.

https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/a-look-at-trumps-controversial-pardons-for-political-allies-and-loyalists

This is plain and simple corruption and it horrifies me. 

Cleaning up.

 

This is a thousand dollar faucet. What makes it a thousand dollar faucet is beyond my understanding. However, we did not pay $1000 for it, and so it is in our kitchen. 

Tomorrow, I get my staples out and I'm pleased about that. They catch on the sheets at night, and that is an icky feeling to wake up to.

It is still chilly here and the chill bothers my leg, but I went to the new house today. I putzed around, and Tim and I had stern words. I haven't been there for a week and a half, and the man has a tendency to just leave shit everywhere. There is no reason he can't simply throw trash out. I cleaned, again.  I put the privacy film on the window in the bathroom. We did some little inside things. He did some weedwhacking.

We have left over building supplies. Tim wanted to hang on to it in case we need it for the rentals. The thing is, the rentals are, at this point, 100% renovated. We know for a fact we are not buying any more of them. This stuff would be sitting around for years waiting to be used. 

I put up an ad on facebook listing what we have, letting people know that it's enough for small jobs. A man was interested in the flooring. He asked questions. He mentioned that he and his wife have been wanting to replace the flooring in their kitchen, but that something always seemed to come up. I told him that we'd been there a time or two ourselves. He said that he just found out that he had prostate cancer. He is doing all the testing and stuff, but he's trying to work as much as possible, because he knows he'll need to take time off. I told him that we'd been there too. 

In the end, I took the ad down from Market Place. He's coming tomorrow night. He can have first dibs on it. He's welcome to any of it, or all of it. We can put the ad back up once he's had first dibs.

Tim is traveling tomorrow. He's going to get the wood to frame the windows in. That will be a great thing to get accomplished. 

Different Day

 One thing that I've noticed, and it is not just with the knee...I have always known it about myself. If I don't feel well, at night it is always worse. I have pondered this many times, and I always came to the same conclusion: when I am up and moving, and doing things, it keeps my brain occupied and distracted. When I am in bed, in the dark, in the quiet, with nothing keeping my brain occupied, I take more notice of what I've been ignoring all day, whether it be a pain, or a problem, or something on my heart.

So...when I went to bed Wednesday night, I knew that I was coming down with Tim's cold. It took forever to fall asleep, but when I finally did, I was back up at 3AM. My head ached. My body ached. I was cold. I moved to the couch and back to the bed. The thing was, as far as the cold went, it was not even a bad cold, but the body aches seemed to really to make me take a lot more notice of the ache in my leg.  It really was the strangest thing.

I had the PT guy coming at 9:30, but I was so tired and cold and achy that I just called and canceled with him. He said he understood completely, and that he'd see me next week. 

Much to my surprise, I got a call from the surgeon's office about an hour later. They were very stern about missing two PT appointments. 

"But I haven't!" I said. "I missed today's appointment, but I am sick. I've never missed any other appointments, ever." 

She said, "The home care has notified us that you have missed two PT appointments this week and we are required to follow up on this to see what is going on." 

I said, "I haven't missed two appointments, as I already explained. I've had two appointments this week. I was due for one more which I canceled because I am sick, and if you want to talk numbers, let's talk about the fact that by Monday, I had full extension. Let's talk about how I gained 8° of flexion in my knee between Monday and Wednesday." She sounded rather taken aback but said again that they'd been notified... I said, "They are wrong." 

After that conversation, I was irritated. I called the Home Care people. 'Mark' answered. I explained the situation, and much to my surprise, he said, "You missed today AND you missed yesterday." 

I said, "I absolutely did NOT miss yesterday."

In a bored voice he said, "let me look..." and he said, "Oh...you didn't." 

Now, let's be clear, mistakes happen. I understand that. I've made enough mistakes in my life to be fully cognizant of that fact. I also believe that when a mistake is made, it needs to be fixed. The mistake was his mistake, but instead of saying, 'I made a mistake and I need to fix that,' he began to say that he had not notified the surgeon's office, that they had called him to follow up on my progress. 

I was even more irritated by that because the surgeon's office was very clear about who called who, but even if it had happened as he said, he was the one that had provided the misinformation just has he had to me initially in the phone call. 

The tattletale immediately called the PT, who texted me wanting to know what happened. I am not a big texter, and tried to sum it up briefly. He was with another client but asked if he could call when he left that house, which he did. We discussed the situation, and I said, "The office made a mistake. If he had offered to address and fix that mistake, I wouldn't be so upset. But he immediately went into CYA mode (CYA = Cover your ass)."

He assured me that he would call the surgeon's office and assure them that I was a very motivated client, doing extremely well, and that only one appointment had been missed. That made me feel better about things. 

I received a phone call shortly after that the nurse was coming to discharge me from the home health. 

I felt pretty awful. Like I was a problem and so they were dumping me. A PITA. (PITA = Pain in the ass). It was my understanding that I'd go to Tuesday's doctor appointment, get 25 staples removed, and they'd make the decision whether I could graduate from home care, so this seemed precipitous to me. 

The nurse was young, but she was a very sensible woman. She did her part of things, noted that I was doing extremely well, that the incision looked great, and reminded me that I really should still be using the walker. I forget about it when I'm moving around the kitchen and then wind up migrating all over the house while my walker stands at the ready in the kitchen. 

When she got to the 'do you have any questions for me?' I asked my question outright. 'Was I being discharged because I was a problem.' She looked surprised and said no. I explained the situation. "Oh my gosh!" she said. "That would really have made me mad. Things like that can really mess up your insurance." 

That had not even occurred to me. 

She said very briskly, that she was going to call the surgeon's office too, just to make sure that there was no mistake, that they were not dealing with a non-compliant patient.

So that did make me feel better, despite my cold. 

I've had two awful nights, but it seems as if the cold is going away, and last night I slept soundly once again. I woke up this morning and felt rested. Today will be a different day.

Yippee skippee.

Today, I do feel as if I've over done things just the slightest. The PT guy was pretty interesting. I think that he was trying to assess how far I would push myself. I got 8 degrees more flexion than I did two days ago. My extension is as good as it gets. I did the stupid exercises.😉 I did the stupid walking. 😉 As we passed by the bottom of the stairs, he asked if I had done the stairs. I hadn't. I didn't even think that was a good idea, but... up the stairs I went, 15 steps, and back down them again. He said, "I honestly would never have believed you are just one week out."

I'd made stewed chicken gravy for supper tonight, something that can be chopped while sitting, and dropped in a pot and left to simmer gently until it is supper time. After Josh left, Tim and I ate. 

Today is my 68th birthday, and you know, it just felt like a special day. Tim was watching tRUMP blathering on about south African genocide. I was amazed at Cyril Ramaphosa's self control. ("I'm sorry I do not have a plane to give you." Cripes. I just about fell off the couch.) I was also pleased to see that ABC called it out right in the headline, that tRUMP was pushing a false narrative. CBS and NBC did not. 

I said, "You know, I want a donut. It's been since January that I've had a dessert, and I just feel like today is a day to celebrate." He said, "Do you want to come with?" I discovered that I did, which may have been pushing it just one step too far. 

But...did I tell you how long it has been since I've eaten a donut?

Depending on tomorrow, we might just go to the new house. There's plenty of little things that I can do that don't involve walking around and it has been over a week. 

Good News (unlike the national news)

 

Saturday was a good day. I felt like I had kicked this thing in the behind. I met with the home nurse who was quite impressed at how I was getting around, and that made me feel good. I spent the day with no pain killers, (big improvement) and I went to bed with a dose of extra strength tylenol PM. I fell asleep promptly, and slept until I woke up at 3 in some pretty awful pain. 

And stayed awake. Migrated from bed to the couch. Back to the bed after a few hours. I just could not get comfortable. It was not cool. 

That means, because I was tired, Sunday was a wash out. I was dealing with the final hurrah from the narcotics. (Do. Not. Ask.) It was miserable. I was back in bed by 7. I skipped the night time tylenol and just took two OTC sleep aids. My leg was twinging, little jolts of electricity, and quite by accident, I got an idea. Using a heated massage on my foot and ankle really relieved that pain. 

I slept like a rock, which made this morning a pretty good morning. 

For one thing, I was able to take my first shower. I was told by the home health person that my dressing would be removed by the person coming on Monday, but at the hospital, they said that I could remove it myself and shower. So. I went with the advice that I liked the best. Since the visiting nurse wasn't coming until after lunch, I removed the bandage as soon as I was out of bed, climbed into the shower and took the longest, hottest shower and it felt like heaven. 

I made my first cup of coffee since all this had happened, and that tasted pretty good too. 

I got some dishes washed. Tim did two loads of laundry. We planned supper. My meal preplanning was just great, I'm glad to say. 

Tim headed out on the business of his day and I settled in to ice my knee and wait for the pt person to arrive. Here's something else that I'm really, really so happy about. She was very pleased to see that I have 100% extension and 95% flexion with that knee. She said that as soon as I get the staples removed, I'll get the other 5%. My therapy will not consist of range of motion, because I've already pretty much got that back, and from what I understand, the ROM is the most painful part of the PT. I'll simply be strengthening that knee. She says the incision looks great, and was amazed at how little swelling and bruising I had. She was pleased that I'd consider my pain at a 2. Reading the notes, she said, as I have heard, over and over again: "Your response to narcotics is not uncommon." The question really does beg an answer then: why did the hospital find it so hard to believe?

Anyways, all good news. 

I iced my leg and watched two very old movies, movies that I'd never seen. Postcards from The Edge, which struck me as so sad. Despite the triumphant closing song about leaving Heartbreak Hotel, she didn't. 

The other movie I watched was "The Remains of the Day". How did I ever get to be 67 and never see it? I don't know. I could not tell  you, but I LOVED that movie. I was quite surprised when my daughter classed it as the worst movie she's ever seen. It was about perfect in my mind, and in the end, when the pigeon flew down the chimney, and the new American owner ushered it out of the window and into the sky, I almost cried to see Mr. Stevens closing that window of the old house. Closing the door to his own cage, albeit one that he had chosen for himself.

I borrowed a page from Catalyst's blog. He and Judy's Friday night tradition is pizza. They buy a regular store pizza and top it with their own toppings. This is something that I used to do when the kids were young. I don't know why I stopped. But I gimped out to the kitchen, topped a cheese pizza with pepperoni, onions, mushroom, peppers, broccoli, another layer of pepperoni, and a good covering of grated mozzarella and some italian seasoning. Easy peasy, and Tim thinks it is 'perfect'. 

Kudos to CBS' Wendy McMahon. This is what ethics looks like. 

The Importance of being Unconscious.

 I think, strangely, the toughest part of this, for me is the lack of sleep. The pain is bad, but you know, you can work your way through pain if you have the knowledge that it will end, and that things will get better. (They are getting better, by the way, and it is only 3 days past surgery.)

But the overnight at the hospital nearly did me in. 

It was so noisy, and it really was not the fault of the nurses, not really. They had two post surgical patients who were doing a lot of yelling. One of them probably was a patient with dementia. So it was noisy. And what I tried my best to do at the beginning of the night was to take care of myself as best I could. I know that they were pleased that I was up and walking, and not only walking but walking well. 

That made me glad too. 

But there was also plain carelessness. My two goals for that first night were to be up and sitting in a chair and to stay in control of the pain, and they listed when I was due for more pain medication right on the white board there with my goals. 

So, I was up and when I finished in the bathroom, I came out to the chair to tick that first goal off. I was trying to be as easy as possible for my nurse, who was very nice. Soft spoken. But when I sat in that chair, my feet did not reach the floor, and having my leg just dangling, was excrutiating for my knee. I asked for my leg to be elevated. The nurse said doubtfully, "They don't want it elevated." I said, "I can't take this. It is too painful." 

She whisked out of the room. I assumed she was going to ask for advice, but she did not return. I sat there in my chair in agony, and even worse? My call bell was on the nightside table. I couldn't get to it. My walker had been moved to the other side of the room, a safety protocol I think, to keep strong willed patients from marching all over their room unsupervised. 

My supper was delivered, and though I was told I would get a regular diet, I was delivered a cup of broth and some blueberry yogurt frozen ice thing. In hindsight, I wonder why I did not speak to the young man who brought my meal, ask him to go get a nurse. I don't know. I honestly can't tell you. I just felt sick with pain, and I hadn't eaten in 24 hours, and I. Just. Don't. Know. 

I ate, because it seemed like the thing to do, and truthfully, the broth and the frozen stuff really did fill me up. Finally, at shift change, the night nurse came in and was introduced, and the day nurse was a bit horrified to find me sitting there with my supper tray in front of me, still in my chair. I had been forgotten. That's the reward of being a stoic, I guess. 

They were dismayed that I'd only had clear liquids for supper and sent down, right away for a turkey sandwich. It came with a cup of fruit and a bag of chips, and let me tell you, although I thought the pain was more important than food, turns out that I was wrong. I ate every bit of that supper. 

I said, "I can't stand this pain anymore. I really can't. I need to go to the bathroom and to get my teeth brushed and go to bed." 

Very efficiently, they helped me get that done. 

I was given a pain killer, which I took like the obedient patient I was. 

The yelling went on. I adjusted my television to one of those 'sound of nature' programs and tried to will myself to sleep, but I was up every hour on the hour. The compression machine alarm kept going off, and they were getting upset with that. It squeezes your legs to prevent blood clots, and quite honestly, it was very soothing...in between the alarms. They finally just unhooked it all together. 

They assured me that they'd left the machine that ices the joint functioning. I honestly did feel like it wasn't working, and mentioned that, but was assured that it was. 

The IV alarm went off twice in the night to let them know the antibiotics were done. 

The patients kept yelling. 

At 3:09, I heard a triumphant shout "Hooray! I did it!" followed by a lot of cheering. That's when I began to be a bit irritated with the nurses. 

I asked to go to the bathroom, and the nurse came in. She apologized for the rowdiness in the hall. (I had not mentioned it...) She put down the bedroom and left the room. That's where the second mistake of the night happened. I thought she was in the room. The other nurses just stayed right in the room. I made my way to the bed, made it up again, and waited for her to return. She did not. Once again the call bell was across the room on the table. 

Finally, in desperation, I got myself into bed by myself. I could not hook up the ice to my knee. My door was closed because I requested it. I couldn't get my siderail up. I couldn't reach my button. I was so exhausted that I was nauseous and I was in a lot of pain because I didn't request my pain killer. I laid there in a mess trying to sort out when I had the last dose. At 5AM a person came in to do the labs, and I poured out my tale of woe to her. 

She got someone to come in who put up my bedrail, got my call bell for me, complained that she'd unhooked my leg things on purpose because of the alarm, I tried to explain that the gentle squeezing and ice felt very nice. She hooked me up once again, gave me my pain killer and swooped out of the room. She was not happy, and she showed it. 

Once again, the ice machine, squeezing machine began to beep, and when I rang my bell, she was very much annoyed. "That's why I unhooked it!" Unhooked it. Swept back out the door. 

By that point, I was feeling pretty nauseous. I know that I throw up when I am exhausted. I always have. But at this point, I was feeling as if it was partly due to the pain killers, and I didn't know what to do. I mean, I needed pain relief. 

Long story short, the next nurse to come in found in the throes of dry heaving, and I was beyond all caring about the poor nurses at that point. I cried. I said that there were things that were beyond their control, and I am sorry for that, but also, there were things that weren't beyond their control. Regularly checking on patients for one thing. 

The morning nurse figured out that my ice machine was not working because no one had put ice water into it, so there was no cold water to be pumped through. I was a mighty mess, people. 

Long story short, a primary care physician came in to tell me what they were sending me home with, drug wise. I said, "Please...is there a pain relief that is not a narcotic? I really think that is why I am throwing up." He said, "Oh, we will give you something for the vomiting." 

They did. 

It helped. 

When the nurse came to read through the prescriptions that would be waiting for pick-up, once again, I said, "I think the pain killers are making me sick. Isn't there anything else that I can have that is not a narcotic?" and she said, "This is not the same thing that you had in the hospital. I promise you that it will be different, once you are home."

I got out of there and home without getting sick in the car and I fell straight into bed and slept face down, feet hanging off the bed, for 2 1/2 hours. I came out to the couch and slept for two hours more. As night closed in, the discomfort began to increase. I took the anti nausea stuff and waited a bit before taking the pain killer. 

Spoiler: It was not different, and I got sick. 

I was also awake at 5am in bad pain, and unwilling to take anything for it. 

I struggled through the day, but in the end. I got through the day, and it was not fun, although at that point, I was pretty sure that I was not going to die. 

Last night, I went to bed and couldn't get comfortable. I had nothing for pain. I finally got up and did exactly what you are not supposed to do. I took an OTC sleep aid at 3 AM, and fell blessedly and soundly asleep. I slept until nearly 9, and got up, made myself my own high protein breakfast and...now I'm sitting here at the computer like any other morning...

In hindsight, Bob-ert, the advice I would leave you with is to be very clear about what you need and what you don't need. It would have been helpful to have an advocate sitting there to be my voice when I couldn't seem to get anyone to understand what I needed. 

And...whatever it takes, get some sleep!

The post op post

 It is not great, but it is survivable.

Ready or Not

 Spoiler: I did go work at the new house. 

*sigh*

I had a lot to do here at the house though. I told him that he is simply going to have to help me.

"Sure," he said. "I am here to help."

On my way out the door, I pointed to the brand new turkey call on the kitchen table. "Why don't you take this to the new house. You can practice calling in turkeys when you put out the corn."

And he cheerfully replied, "I figure I can practice while I am sitting around here with nothing to do."

This is what a turkey sounds like: 

I need to keep that fellow busy, I guess. Too busy to spend hours with his new call. It would drive me crazy to listen to that. It would be very sad if I get a new knee but lose my mind. 

I have to report to the hospital by 10. I got everything done that I wanted to do. House cleaned. Refrigerator cleaned out. Lasagna made. Yogurt in the yogurt maker. 

I really am ready for this to be done and over. See you on the other side. 

Late Edit: I just have to tell you this. It made me laugh so hard. Sue, over at My Quiet Life in Suffolk found a book of old Saints and weather lore, and she reported that May 14th is the Feast Day for St Boniface who was martyred in 754AD in Germany. What makes this so funny is that my new knee is coming on May 14th, and the surgeon's name is Dr. Boniface!

Some Very Good News

 I could not help but think about the 11 year old that was swept into the creek. I felt so horrible for his mother. There's no good time for something like that of course, but it seemed even more awful that such a thing would happen on the evening before Mother's Day. 

The water rescue was ongoing, and police were patrolling the bridges, but then darkness fell. And all night long, I kept thinking about that child. How awful it would be not to know where your child was. Hoping against hope that somehow, he'd managed to get himself out of the water before he was swept into the Allegheny. 

Was he a friend of my grandson's? Was he a kid from our street? A kid that walked past our house on the way home from school? Maybe I'd talked to him... My mind whirs off like that, and the whole thing was troubling. Tim and I talked about it on the way to the new house to work some more after he got back from church Sunday morning. 

There was nothing on the news about it that morning. 

There was nothing on the news about it that afternoon. 

But Tim saw the water rescue as he went on his nightly walk. He stopped and talked to a neighbor about it. A kid across the street saw them, and came over to relate the story. He was standing on the bridge and he saw kids walking on the bank. He saw one kid fall in. His arms were over his head, and he just disappeared. 

But facebook came alive with inquiries. I stay out of that mess because everyone knows what is going on whether they know what's going on or not. And god help you if you question someone whose story is just not quite plausible, but I read the comments and saw that:

1) the 11 year old child was rescued.

2) there was no incident (which was hotly disputed by the woman who called 911 after seeing it happen from the 5th St Bridge.) 

3) there was an incident but it was a woman who fell in. 

4) the search for the 11 year old child was ongoing.

You see what I mean. There were many comments, and many of those comments came from people who swore they had personal knowledge, but the information was all over the place. 

So...I kept quiet and waited for news. 

Except there was nothing reported the following morning, but FB had a post that they were looking for the child downriver at the junction of the Conewango and the Allegheny River at a place called Point Park. 

Tim and I drove to the new house wondering about that. 

We listened to the evening news. No mention. "Something isn't right here," I said. Tim repeated what the boy had told him and the neighbor once again and we mused over it. 

I contacted the editor of a local online news publication, and related the facts as we knew them first hand. What the boy had said, the fact that there was a water rescue ongoing. 

I didn't get a response from him right away. His business is facts, and I knew that he'd get to the bottom of it. He did. 

And this was the headline this morning. 

I can't even tell you how happy this made Tim and I. It was wonderful to have a reason for rejoicing. 

I planted my distressed plants today. My previously purchased distressed plants looked mighty fine, and some of the bulbs I planted are showing growth. It was a beautiful day, hot and sunny. Tim worked in the house. Tiger, the AWOL cat, showed up today for a visit while I was working, and I was so pleased to see him that he got a full can of catfood all to himself. I have a bit of a sunburn. 

I forgot to take a picture of the faucet. The brand name is Brizo though. 

I'm getting the house ready, doing a last load of laundry, cooking a couple more batches of food so that Tim doesn't starve to death, just getting things set up. 

I won't be working at the new house tomorrow. 

Another day.

 Tim did more plumbing work, and when I was not required to 'hold this right there like that', I was clearing out the living room space. It contains four extra cabinets that we did not use in the kitchen. They will be finally pulled out of the livingroom and returned to the old house until we find a place for them. 

I've contacted Habitat for Humanity. We've been stockpiling stuff for such a long time. If we saw something on sale, we picked it up. Tile, two kinds of flooring, the kitchen cupboards, lights, both indoor and outdoor, I can't even tell you what all. But now that the job is winding down, we see that we have things that will not be used, and the idea of passing them along to a place that we know will do good would be an awesome way to 'pay it forward'. 

Once the livingroom is emptied out, we can begin to move furniture in. Our plan is to do this slowly and mindfully. We know that everything will not fit, so we have the luxury of being able to pick the things we love best. Mia will be taking a good bit of it for her house, which will help us winnow through stuff too. 

It's like doing the whole Swedish death cleaning thing...our kids are lucky! 

Anyways. 

We put the bathroom light up. Hung the mirror. Tim installed the 'canister' cartridge and now the water valve works. He went out and started work on the kitchen sink. 

I continued pegging away at the mess in the livingroom, sorting all the 'stuff' into electrical, plumbing, painting, saw blades and hole saws in one place, screw drivers in another, probably a couple dozen pencils or markers, half a dozen tape measures, wrenches, pliers, screws, nails, tape, ad nauseum. I also got kind of irritated with him. "Where do you want this?" *holding it up* and the reply came over and over, "Just throw that out, it's no good." 

The question begs an answer...so...we were saving this why? Honest to god. I was throwing away empty packaging. That's something that he could have done...but he doesn't. The extra clutter makes it hard to find stuff. Really, half of my job has been "Find me a pencil" or "Find me a phillips screw driver." 

So. Anyways, he now has a huge storage rack with bins as well as a cabinet and a 7 drawer storage unit in the basement. Hopefully, he will use it to keep organized. He's got shit everywhere. 

So. That's my pet peeve. 

But back to today. It was nice to be hoeing out. We haven't really got any pictures to show, just this, which stinks because I was in a hurry and didn't notice that I had not shown the lights. 

And yes. There is a toilet seat in the back seat of my car right now, along with another batch of plumbing things that we will need to finish up the kitchen plumbing tomorrow. Exciting note: I'll have a dishwasher. I haven't had a dishwasher for 30 years and this was a non-negotiable for me. I am pretty tickled about that.

But pictures of pipes and whatnot are deadly dull, so I kept on cleaning. I suppose I could have taken a picture of the kitchen faucet. I had a friend who was an interior designer. She liked to enter competitions and she had scads of things that she used as design elements. She had a faucet that she said was $1000, something that Tim found fascinating. "What does a thousand dollar faucet even look like?" he wondered. It seemed so ridiculous to us that anyone would spend that kind of money on a faucet, and he wanted to see it, out of pure curiosity. So. She gave it to him. Can you imagine? She also gave me an armload of fabrics for upholstering furniture, something that I passed along to another friend who made some magnificent drapes for his new apartment. 

Anyways. So...I could have taken a picture of Loretta's faucet. Maybe tomorrow. 

I hung out the hummingbird feeder I received for Christmas, and the lawn ornament that I'd received for mother's day. I watered plants and played with cats and emptied that space out. 

When we were done for the day, we came home, changed clothes and headed out for supper, and then stopped at Lowe's to get the plumbing supplies and a toilet seat, which we kept forgetting to buy. They had a special on azalea bushes ($9.99!), so I bought one for the new house. I also got 3 distressed plants, a lily, dianthus, and sea thrift, to round my plant frenzy off to $20.00. I couldn't help smiling to think what that same $20 would have got me had I been able to get to one of Northsider's carboot sales! 

Tim is going turkey hunting tomorrow morning, but then we'll be back down working for the rest of the day. I will get my new flowers planted and be as much help as I can be for Tim.

Tuesday will be a stay at home day. I am very much looking forward to that. I'm tired of this craziness of being between two places. Every time that I look, I've got a clock stopped, because I have forgotten to wind them. But, anyways, I'll use Tuesday to get all the last minute stuff done, and a lasagna put together for another meal for Tim, and then I'm as ready as I can be for my new knee.

And...after all this time, I'm ready. I dreamt last night of marveling over being able to walk and walk. Of course, I also dreamt that I discovered I had lice, so...I'm not sure what to make of all that.  

Thanks for the movie recommendation Jackie. I may have time to watch it after the surgery.

The Day that Goes Wrong

We had quite a day today. We managed to continue working, but everything that could go wrong seemed to do just that. 

I built the cabinet for the bathroom. It was IKEA, Godmorgan. We got it, along with the bathroom vanity a couple years ago, when they were being clearanced out. We got the vanity, the sink, and the cabinet for $360. 

Bonnie wanted to know about the set up under the sink, so I took this picture from my old post. It's from IKEA's website. We bought it in white, of course, but it has drawers underneath.

So Tim was working on plumbing, and I was in the livingroom putting together the matching cabinet, listening to a true crime podcast. Those things are addictive. Or maybe it is just me. I don't know. But I was listening to a podcast and assembling the cabinet. I'm really impressed with this furniture. It is so perfectly engineered. Everything fits together as it should, and it comes with a 10 year guarantee, and honestly, in 10 years we will be looking at 80 and won't much care. Anyways, I've gotten myself all off track. 

So I was putting together the cabinet and feeling as if I understood why kids love Legos. 

  

When I was finished, I cleaned up the bathroom light fixture to install. Tim was working on the bathtub/shower controls and he tested the shower and bathtub to make sure nothing leaked. When he was satisfied, he went down to the basement to turn off the water. I gathered up all the drop cloths and rags that we'd been using to sponge down the tile in the bathroom, and headed out the front door to hang them to dry. I heard a commotion. Tim had turned off the wrong water control and we had water spraying all over the bathroom. He tore back down to the basement and turned off the correct switch this time, and came back up the stairs. I was sopping up lots and lots of water. Even worse some small parts on the water valve had shot out. We found everything save one small spring. I think it went down the drain, actually. 

Tim was very frustrated. The good news is that although it was a lot of water, we got it all up and no damage was done. I said, "Well...I needed to get the floor mopped anyway."

We hung the cabinet, but it took frustratingly long time because it was being hung in an awkward space to the right of the sink, on a short wall. If we had not been rookies, we would have known to hang the cabinet before installing the vanity. Live and learn. 

Tim had to buy a new 'cartridge' for the bathroom valve, whatever that means, which irritated him.

We came home and worked to get some preparation done for the move, but  we both felt like we accomplished very little of our to-do list and we were a bit tired and cranky.

After supper, we heard that a boy was walking along the bank across the river from our house. He fell into the high river and was swept away. They mounted a water search and rescue, but he has not been found and now it is dark. 

The day before Mother's Day, and somewhere in my town a mother is not celebrating. 

Our irritations seemed quite ridiculous in light of the tragedy. 

Step by Step

 

Got the vanity in today. I really do like the sink a lot. I did the building of the vanity while Tim did the plumbing stuff. 

Tomorrow, he will hook up the bathtub/shower combo. I will be building the matching cabinet that will hang to the side of the sink. We'll get that hung, put the light up over the vanity, hang a mirror. 

Go us. 

Oklahomans have voted in a curriculum change. 

It has been chilly here. Freeze warnings tonight. 

Catching up again.

 Well...today was a big day: 

Not sure what my sister will do now that I'm not going to be walking over regularly to use her bathroom. She can always come over and use mine. I surely would not begrudge her. You will note the window right next to the toilet. I was very opposed to that. I argued that. It did me no good. You can bet  your bippy that there will be privacy film on the lower part. 

We are building the vanity right now, and will hang that tomorrow. It's quite exciting to see it all coming together. All these things that we've been collecting are being dragged out from their storage places. Some of them have been stored so long that I can't even remember them. 

Senility makes life so much more exciting, don't you think? 

I started out the day sponging down the bathtub surround again to smooth out the thinset. Tim is very unhappy with the large scale tile. He thinks it is too large for the space. I'm okay with it. We're sure not ripping it out. He's already making plans for it "if it doesn't hold up". (Note to self: Don't let him take a hammer in the bathroom.)

I've been promising to show Dave my plants. I have 20 tomato plants and 12 pepper plants. They all look happy. I've got a dozen cucumbers started inside. They look happy too. 

I had my 'class' today for the knee replacement stuff. They want us to have a walker, which we can rent from the hospital. I hadn't even thought of a walker, but we stopped by Goodwill, and we got one that looks brand new. It was marked $15.99, but had a half off tag, which means it should have been $8, but somehow, it wound up costing $4.99. So. Good news there. I told my sister about it and said, "It's really something that will be nice to pass forward when I'm done with it." Turns out her youngest son, who was badly injured in Iraq by an IED is going to have a knee replacement in the near future. "Tell him he can have my walker..." 

One thing that surprised me was that they said I'd need home health care for 2 or 3 weeks. I surely did NOT like the sounds of that. I was envisioning people who come into your house and sit around all day doing your house work and keeping an eye on you. How do you take a nap if you're tired with a stranger in your house? And let's face it: I'm just not comfortable with the idea of strangers in my house, period.

My sister laughed at me. "They're not talking about home health aides. They are talking about a nurse who comes in, makes sure that you're okay, reports back to the doctor if there are any issues, etc. 20 minutes, tops, and they are back out the door." Made me feel better. That I can live with. 

As Tim and I walked into the hospital, church bells began to ring out across the town. They went on and on. I said, "They are probably celebrating the new pope." 

He'll continue on the work of Francis, which is encouraging to me, although I'm not Catholic. 

He's not reticent about his views on the current American politics. 

Pope Leo XIV, the first American pontiff, has quickly established himself as a progressive leader in the mold of Pope Francis, championing immigrant rights and social justice. He has been outspoken in his criticism of right-wing U.S. politicians, particularly Donald Trump and Vice President JD Vance. In a widely circulated post, Leo XIV declared, "JD Vance is wrong: Jesus doesn't ask us to rank our love for others," directly rebutting Vance's attempt to justify restrictive immigration policies with Christian doctrine. Leo has also condemned Trump’s anti-immigrant rhetoric and criticized his administration’s collaboration with El Salvador on deportations, highlighting the moral cost of such policies.

This progressive stance has sparked a fierce backlash from the American right. Far-right activist Laura Loomer was among the first to denounce Pope Leo XIV, labeling him a "WOKE MARXIST POPE" and accusing him of supporting "illegal aliens and open borders." Loomer specifically pointed to Leo’s support for Dreamers and his condemnation of Trump’s use of the term "bad hombres," calling it "racist". Other MAGA-aligned commentators, like Sean Davis of The Federalist and strategist Joey Mannarino, have echoed these criticisms, accusing Leo of pushing a globalist and leftist agenda that undermines national sovereignty and Catholic tradition.

Despite this right-wing outrage, Pope Leo XIV remains steadfast in his advocacy for immigrants and the marginalized, urging the Church to "build bridges" and "receive with open arms everyone-everyone-who needs our charity, our presence, our dialogue, and love." His leadership signals a continued commitment to social justice, even in the face of intense conservative opposition.

(Cue the cries of 'separation of church and state!' from the same people who want to put the ten commandments in every classroom.)

Interesting side note: He went to Villanova University, just outside of Philadelphia, not far from where I've got family. 

I read this today:

It reminded me of this: https://www.reuters.com/business/bill-gates-give-away-fortune-by-2045-200bn-worlds-poorest-2025-05-08/

I hope that everyone has a good weekend. 

Back, Bathrooms, and Hummingbirds.

Today started out kind of jumping around. First of all, I really tweaked my back moving a shelving unit Saturday. It wasn't that it was all that heavy. I think that I just twisted wrong. It initially hurt, but working in the damp and cold aggravated it something awful. With a bad right knee and knotted muscles on the left side of my spine, I was really in a pickle. I had to lift my legs with my hands to get into the car. 

I tried to avoid making things worse the next day, but predictably, that did not work at all. I pulled in a lawn chair to 'back butter' the tile for the bathroom, but even reaching those out to Tim did not help the situation. 

Tim bought a heating pad for me, and I used a lot of Ben-Gay, but by bedtime, I have a confession. I had one temazepam left from the last time that I twisted my back wrong, and lord knows how old that was, but I took it anyway. I went to bed with my heating pad. 

I am pleased to say that when I woke up this morning, I certainly wasn't 100%, but I could move, albeit slowly and carefully, taking special pains not to twist anything. 

Tim had to go to the reassessment hearing. We bought a house for $30,000 5 or 6 years ago, and they appraised it at $138,000.  We are honestly confused by this. We expected an increase, but it is a 1140 square foot, 2 bed, 1 bath house that they listed  as being a two family dwelling (how that mistake was made is not clear). They also said that it had a fireplace. It does not. It is a very old house which sits over a hand dug earthen basement. The basement is not a useable space at all. It's sole purpose being to access the drains and pipes of the house. 

She made the changes, but the thing she was most interested in was the neighbor's house. Like us, he owns multiple houses, which are poorly maintained, the porches covered with garbage and debris. The woman taking the notes at the meeting advised Tim to take those pictures to the next meeting, that they will certainly impact the property values of our houses. This neighbor has long said that he is friends with an official on the zoning committee and so he will never be cited. I guess, in the end that turned out to be good news for the neighborhood. 

So. Tim felt better. 

We had to get down to the new house right away. Tim had set a trap for the raccoon. We caught one, but that very night, another helpful raccoon wandered in to do a quality assurance check of the cat food at 3:30 AM. Tim set the trail cam up to keep an eye on the livetrap, and sure enough, there was something in the trap this morning. It was Tiger, who I hadn't seen for a while. 

When we got there, he meowed at us. We opened the door to the trap and he followed me into the garage to get breakfast.

Then we got to work. We finished the tiling. Tomorrow, we will grout it. 

Tim did grout the floor. I did manage to make myself useful sponging the excess grout with him later. 

I heard Tim talking in the living room. A humming bird had managed to get itself inside. I picked him up gently and carried him outside, and was delighted that he sat on my fingertips for quite a while looking around in an unbothered way. Finally he flew off, straight up to the very top of a huge pine tree. 

It is not a good picture because it was a quick snap with the phone. 

I sent it to my sister who lives within sight of the new house. She didn't know the hummingbirds had returned, so she was delighted too. 

This is her picture from last year. She was sitting on the porch enjoying a sunny evening, and this fellow flew down and landed on her toe. He sat and watched her for quite some time. 

I will close with a laugh. 

or this...

We bought the bead board that will go around the bottom of the bathroom walls. We will install that tomorrow, and then we'll be ready to put in the bathroom 'appliances'. Pretty excited about that. 

oh...and I bought the shower curtain today. 

Food for Thought

Shorty

 

Incredibly helpful neighborhood raccoon faithfully shows up at o'dark-thirty to feed cats. 

Today we worked on tiling the bathroom. The green is water proofing on the cement board. The gray is the color of the bathroom. We are about 1/2 way done with the job. Tim is upset that it is not perfect. We will finish the tiling tomorrow, grout it. Then on to the next project.  

I meant to take pictures of my happy pepper and tomato plants for Dave. They are not in the ground yet. We don't plant our gardens until the end of May. Tomorrow, I will try to remember to do get pictures of my plants though. 

Catching up.

 It has been a busy week. I got back from my son and daughter-in-law's house and was up the next day for a early morning pre-op appointment at the hospital where I am having my knee replacement. Such an efficient set up. You sign in, and you go from the nurse who does your history, to the anesthesiologist who asks his questions and tells you about the general anesthetic and also about the nerve block they use that makes the first few days bearable. Then down the hall for an EKG, a chest x-ray, down to the lab, and then you are done. Before I even got home, they were calling me to ask if I wanted to attend a 'what to expect' class a week prior to surgery. I took them up on that. 

Only thing was that for whatever reason, the chest x-rays needed to be done again, so I had to go back Wednesday. 

And then I had a pre-op appointment this morning, with my own doctor, which I don't quite understand since they pretty much just asked me the same questions that I'd answered at the hospital. Indeed, they are the same questions that I answer at the beginning of every doctor's appointment. They also are not at all involved with this surgery.

I did find out about the whole recorder thing. It's a speech to text thing that types up the office visit. It allows her to go back through and pick out the pertinent details instead of requiring her to type as she talks. She is a slow typist, she tells me. So. That explains that. 

One thing that came out of this meeting is that Monday, when I was at the hospital pre-op thing, my blood pressure was 98/53 or some such thing. I made a mental note of this. It certainly explains some difficulties that I'd been having. I brought that up today. My weight loss has reduced my blood pressure enough that I've halved that medication, which made me very happy. I've lost 4 more pounds since my last visit. 

So...we're working on the bathroom right now. I painted it. I think I told you that I wanted it dark. Tim wanted it lighter. Interestingly enough, we got a Benjamin Moore paint. The first thing is that it covered beautifully with just one coat, unlike the Magnolia Home Paint we got for the kitchen, which required two coats. The best part is that when it dried, it was not as light as Tim wanted it, although not as dark as I wanted it. It compromised for us. 

The shower controls are in (spoiler: Not Moen, who has been sending me coupons and discount offers like crazy. Amazing what happens when you say you'll never purchase another product from them. Another spoiler: those coupons will not be used. I may not have mentioned it, but I am a little stubborn.)

Tim waterproofed the cement board around the tub. Tomorrow, we'll be able to install the tile. 

I've gotten all my bulbs and seeds planted in the flower garden. Yesterday, I planted 4 shrubs. Two of them I am not at all sure about, but the other two look pretty healthy. I planted my peppers and tomatoes sometime back. I just transplanted them from their little trays into larger cups. They look quite healthy and happy. I took two trays of cups to the greenhouse and I'm expecting great things. My starter trays are full once again with cucumbers and jalapenos. 

I filled in a ditch. 

We've got a coon or something in the garage. He is strong enough to pull the lid off the garbage can and he helps himself to the corn. We have the trail camera set up. 

Some hero tore down the Ultra Maga sign along the highway coming into town.