Work Smarter Not Harder

Inspirational song: Digging in the Dirt (Peter Gabriel)

This blog started nine years ago with a strong emphasis on gardening, and my journey towards self-discovery through it. I found strengths and weaknesses there. I expressed my creativity and frequently got in over my head. I stopped and started more times than I could count. But not once did I dislike it. I love gardening, even when it wears me out and makes me hurt. I miss it when I can't do it.

This spring is the first time in years that I have been cancer free. What an amazing difference it makes for how well I can work the yard. After the long day of potting herbs on Thursday, I still went out today and started weeding the Unless Garden that I had neglected for years while I was sick. I can't believe I'm planning this, but I fully intend to put in another few hours at it tomorrow. I'm actually enjoying it again. Pulling up grass and thistles, and I like it!

I told myself if I properly cleared a square foot of weeds from the corner bed today, it would be good and admirable. I kept going as long as I could sit with my legs tucked to the left as I always do. Then I lay down on one side and reached a little further over the periwinkle to keep digging out the invasive lemon and/or bee balm. (Don't worry, I just pushed it back to its designated area.) I managed to keep going twisted the other way. And then, I realized how much more I could do with one of the iron chairs from the porch. For the first time in ages, I got all the way up to the upper ring of stones, without agonizing back pain. Overall, I made a dent in just over a quarter of the bed, a far cry more than the square foot I promised myself. This corner bed has been a source of shame since 2018, when I stopped being able to take care of it. I have every intention of tidying it completely, and replacing some of my more regrettable plant choices with more sustainable picks. With a little effort, this can go from shame to pride.

 

Gusty

Inspirational song: Heavy Cloud No Rain (Sting)

Sometimes my timing is terrible. I've been trying for ages to get myself down to Old Navy for new jeans, because traditionally, they seem to fit my figure better than other brands. I was in search of wide leg or flares, and I was just sure that store was my best chance. I'm sick to death of pants that are tight in the knees and ankles, and I have just enough vanity to think that cut does not flatter a curvy grandma like me. I had to travel 15-20 miles (did not measure) to the closest store, only to find that wide leg pants were so last season. Or the one before. The best I could find in women's clothes was a couple pair in clearance in smallish sizes I haven't achieved since about 2010. That is not to say I came home empty-handed. Turns out men's styles are still cut with loose legs, and I found a pair in the same clearance section that, with a few alterations at the waist and length, might achieve the result I want. Even better, they were 11 bucks.

The girls went on this excursion with me. We loaded up the car thinking it was going to be a warm, sunny day. Grandpa had gone to fly, and we were set to enjoy breakfast and shopping. It was still lovely when we left my favorite gluten-free bakery, but the Mr had already called off his flight time due to high winds. By the time we got to the farm roads on the way to shop, the wind picked up for us too. Halfway to Flatirons Crossing, we saw low clouds completely covering Boulder. It looked like a heck of a storm. If it released a single raindrop on our town, I will be surprised. It seemed to be just colder air and wind, with maybe enough humidity to tease us and no more. By the time we parked the car, it was a race to get inside the mall before the wind tore us apart. It was only slightly better on the way home. And still no rain.

My second day in a row doing extended shopping with that baby. She was every bit as charming today as yesterday. But there is something seriously wrong with her. No matter how much we tried, we couldn't convince her to taste a single sip of Orange Julius (technically piña colada Julius for me). Not even the description of it being ice cream juice, or whatever it was her mommy tried to tell her got her to get close. This is the whole reason we drive to this particular Old Navy! Because it's right across from the once-a-year drink place. Someday she will understand.

Herbal Joy

Inspirational song: Long Train Running (Doobie Brothers)

Every spring for close to twenty years, we have created what we consider to be our red, white, and blue display in the flower bed. It's usually made of petunias, with the darkest purple ones standing in for union blue. Once or twice I've mixed it up a little. This year, I've represented a different country, and while it was on my mind, it went out first. I was shopping with Valerie, ready to go nuts at the plant nurseries, when my eye was caught by bright yellow African daisies and deep blue lobelias. (I'd been trying to remember the word "lobelia" for a week.) I can get around to an Americana display in the yard. For now my porch resounds with a deep, hearty "Slava Ukraini!"

We went to two different garden centers, Val and I. We started at the big local nursery, and we walked around for an hour. For the most part, she was well-behaved, not going far when she needed to roam. She didn't complain about anything. After we picked out several herbs and a few fresh Terra cotta pots, I rewarded her by letting her pick out a wind chime to go on my porch where she can tap it on her way in, just like she does at home. She was also super good for me at Lowe's, being very patient while I grabbed a few other herbs, and hunted down those celery plants I'd seen two days ago (already moved and mostly picked through). I selected two eggplant seedlings, as she is on her way to being a vegetarian like her daddy. These are handy to have around for family meals. And while I struggled to maneuver the cart around the pot section (not the Colorado kind), she helped me notice a stacking pot perfect for all the herbs we bought.

Once Little Miss Energy went home, I set my phone to play a two hour show I had recorded, and immediately planted the herbs and flowers. (Veggies can wait.) My back got sore, my face felt massively burned, and my energy was completely drained, but I persevered, and got it all done, including sweeping up spilled dirt and watering everything in. I even potted two houseplants I'd bought a couple months back that had been slowly drying out because I was reluctant to water them where they sat.

I've left a little space for more herbs in the stackable, but for the most part, I consider that done. I'll get some Thai basil (neighbor A's suggestion), and see whether Mr S-P wants any specific ones. It's so weird to have it completed this early. Nothing got left on the porch in plastic to dry out or tip over in wind. I can't wait to have my porch smell like basil and rosemary all the time.

Out of Doors

Inspirational song: Friend Like Me (Aladdin)

I made a new friend today. I'm helping one of my coworkers, as he has a client closer to my geographic range, and he brought me in for an assist. I'm thrilled to help, and after meeting the person in question, I'm even happier about it. We seemed to hit it off well enough, and I can't wait to get to work. They're running on a somewhat short timeline, so this may turn out to be a hectic spring-to-summer. 

I did spend a little too much time outside for the last two days, between my weed pulling and client meeting. I had the usual reaction to UV rays, and napped away the late afternoon. I very nearly talked myself out of game night when I woke, but I caved in and went next door to play. The game and the time with the Cutest Kid in Colorado did serve to refresh me a bit, so I'm glad I did it.

On the way there, I noticed the lilacs are finally starting to open. Last year, I made a lilac syrup that I used for cocktails. It was good enough, I plan on repeating it. Just a few more days, and I can get started.

Thistles Must Go

Inspirational song: In a Big Country (Big Country)

By some strange miracle, I survived a trip to the danger zone with my bank account intact. I went by Lowe's on my way home from Rotary, in search of gloves that might prove impenetrable to thistle spikes. I found a pair that seemed to have a decently thick coating on the palms. While there, I bought a weed-puller (the long kind with a forked tip, to dig out taproots), and a fresh, un-faded American flag so I have something nice to wave when Honor Flights start back up next month. I also walked past about 70% of the bedding plants, making eye contact with a lot of them, and promising to come back later (think Mr Microphone ad from 40 years ago). All of the vegetable and herb pots were put out, and I was stunned by how many different things they had. Is it just because I'm always so late buying stuff that I didn't know they had all these things? Like for real, I had no idea they sold peat pots of celery! I'd never seen it before, once the shelves had been picked through. And broccolini? Really? I was itching to load up a cart. If I had been standing closer to one, I might have done. With great effort, I made myself stick to the mission, to empty the pots and revitalize the soil first.

When I got home, I did get started on my first tasks. I grabbed most of the pots from the front, minus the one half-full of marigold dead-heads and the one way too heavy for me to lift. I dumped about half of them straight into the compost tower, and lined the rest of them up to finish once we've turned that over a time or two. I also tested out the weed-pulling items, going for the obvious thistles only. Got maybe 20-25 of them. Sure, I had to sit down a couple times during the entire process, but I'm proud of how much I got done. After three years of not having any spare energy to work outside, even doing this felt like a victory. I think spring is much more fun without cancer.

Now the big question is what to do about my front porch herb garden. I kind of want new containers. Do I buy.....or build?

Smarty Pants

Inspirational song: Meet on the Ledge (Fairport Convention)

For all I tried to downplay it, I did have a little stress over how long Val refused to repeat words around anyone but her parents. There was no doubt she was understanding everything said to her. She followed directions and made it obvious her vocabulary was growing at a steady pace, albeit silently. So now that she has gotten over the shyness or stubbornness or whatever restrained her, these last couple weeks of hearing her voice all the time have been absolutely delightful. She talks about everything now one word at a time, telling us what she wants, repeating things she learns. Her jokes are more than just cute facial expressions for the first time. 

She is also learning more abstract thinking all of a sudden. She is mastering playing with dolls/toys with faces as if they are live friends. She "feeds" stuffed animals from her sippy cups. Today she had a frog bath toy who got to sample scrambled eggs and grits stolen from grandma's breakfast plate. And she is mastering letters quickly. This makes me so happy. She finds a letter B and tells me "bumblebee!" She holds a D and says "dad!" She makes a lot of letter sounds when she plays with her alphabet puzzle, and she has been correct every time I've heard her. 

Her taste in music evolves quickly too. As a very young baby, she loved the theme song to one of the Star Trek series. Then she discovered a local folksy band. Then like every kid in the world, she had to hear the Encanto soundtrack over and over. Most recently, she had to play videos on YouTube of Cats on Broadway. Without warning, yesterday she was just over it. Apparently today she wants violin music. So today I introduced her to Fairport Convention. She seemed to dig it, but she kept getting distracted by grandpa singing along. I'll try that again later in the week. I'll try some Steep Canyon Rangers and maybe Flogging Molly too. I wonder what musical genre will follow this one?

Another Time Perhaps

Inspirational song: Dog and Butterfly (Heart)

Anyone who has read this public journal more than a handful of times knows how hard I find it to wait for anything. I might pretend I'm patient, so I look good, but it's all a tissue of lies. I hate waiting. Still, I have not yet disturbed the places in my small park where pollinators are only now beginning to wake. I'd like to go see just how many bedding plants my new car will carry home, but again, it is not yet time.

I had half-planned at least to start preparing to garden today. I want to take all the pots full of spent soil that I've been using for the last few years, dump them into a big pile, and amend that soil with fresh homemade compost. Problem is, I need assistance with a lot of that. I had mentioned it to the guy who does most of the shovel work around here, but he poked holes in my schedule by reminding me he had time-sensitive work of his own, primarily grading end of semester papers. What I should have done is gone ahead and carried the barren pots to one central location near the compost heap, in anticipation of his teaching duties eventually ending so he is ready to work outside. What I did instead was watch a bunch of videos about other people's landscape projects, and I made myself both jealous and ambitious. I did get a few good ideas, but mostly I watched women with younger, stronger bodies than mine demonstrate enviable levels of energy and creativity. Still, I am inspired, and I hope I can put into action at least a few of the plans I made today.

I didn't get out to take photos today, so instead I show you the look as Alfred realizes I made myself a bedtime snack of toast and butter, and did not leave a single bite for him, even though he stared at me the whole time I ate. He's not angry. He is just very disappointed in me.

Float Day

Inspirational song: Dancing Queen (Abba)

This weekend has been marked on my calendar for a while now. Today was the CU marching band alumni group's fundraiser picnic. A few years ago, they started holding them in the spring, with the featured attraction being a root beer float bar where you could take home a Silver Buffs/I (heart) GBMB pint glass. (GBMB= Golden Buffalo Marching Band) Originally the activity they wanted to fund was replacement of band uniform hats. So many were cracked or crushed and the alumni group decided to chip in for new ones so our descendants, as it were, didn't look raggedy. This time around, the Silver Buffs are working on establishing a band scholarship. Naturally I was going to pony up for that. Also new this year, they created fancy new mugs specifically for the root beer floats. They still had some of the pint glasses for sale, which was a good thing. A certain toddler broke mine last month.

My daughter showed up mid-morning to drop off Val for babysitting. She had enough time for me to make an asparagus and cheese quiche for breakfast (and told Val it was egg pie--so Val kept saying "piiiieee!") We went out to reinstall the car seat and load a stroller into the trunk. Val watched us through the screen door, and was So Mad (!!) when we came in saying no, we weren't leaving until later. She thought we should go for a car ride right then, no questions asked. Instead, she had to wait until after play time, and after nap.

Finally it was time for the picnic. We loaded up and went to Boulder. I had Mr S-P drive so I didn't have anxiety driving around campus, with all its changes and rules and one way streets. There are gigantic new buildings, one over where a parking structure had been, and one multiple new storeys on Imig Music, where the band picnic was. Nothing stays the same. We walked around to the back of the music building, where it adjoins Farrand Field, where the marching band has practiced since long before I ever got to CU in the 80s. There were only a couple people I recognized, having missed on the last several year's worth of alumni events for various health reasons. I'm sure I'd seen bunches of these people before; I just couldn't recognize most of them, as most were closer to my kids in age. We checked in, got our wrist bands and root beer float tickets, and went in for food. Try as we might, we couldn't get Val to eat anything but a few bare chips from the nacho bar, and an apple. This kid wouldn't even touch a root beer float!

She did, however, enjoy the heck out of herself running on Farrand Field, playing with the lawn games, and meeting a young girl who was maybe 4 years old. It was a challenge to get her to leave when time came. We had to put her back in the stroller and wheel her out. To lessen the disappointment, I snagged a gluten-free vanilla oreo for her (and one for me), and she seemed content to work on that until she zoned out in the car. 

Pop

Inspirational song: Bang a Gong (Get It On) (T-Rex)

We thought we were supposed to babysit today. I had kept my entire schedule open with that in mind. Midway through the morning, we found out we weren't on the schedule. I didn't know quite what to do with the rest of my day. So I did almost nothing. Beyond a little tidying here and there, I am really not sure how an entire day disappears like this one did. I didn't necessarily need a big rest day. I felt fine. I must have spent all of my time staring out my window, watching a few white cherry blossoms open as the sun warmed the tree. It was like the old days, when we had that popcorn popper with the big clear plastic dome, watching for the first kernels to explode in the sizzling oil.

There really isn't much more to write. I think I'll watch a little more YouTube to put myself to sleep. I've already gone through my carpet cleaner, car detailer, recipe debunker, and the professor of rock. What's left? Historical cooking, I suppose. Take it away, Max Miller.

Mine

Inspirational song: I Wanna Rock (Twisted Sister)

Last week, I got an email offering a free continuing education class on mineral rights in real estate. First, it was on a super interesting topic. Second, it was four CE credits during a time I'm determined to be more up on my required classes. Third, it was local. And fourth, it was free! How could I pass this up?

The class was today at a local hotel conference room. Turnout was good. Easily 40 other realtors also wanted this class, and nearly all seemed as eager as I was to learn the material. The instructor was an underwriter that the hosting title agency bragged about. He knew his stuff very well. They said the same guy will be teaching his class on water rights in the fall, and I plan on attending. I will show up early to get a good seat. Knowing how big a deal water is in Colorado, they had better hire out a bigger conference room.

After today, now I'm raring to go do a little research to see what I can discover about mineral rights owned by various members of my family. I don't plan on exercising any of those rights or anything, but I have a legitimate excuse to go poking around in title records to get better about understanding this stuff when I am related to the people who actually own the rights. This is just fun stuff.

Spelling Bee

Inspirational song: Flight of the Bumblebee (Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov)

Boulder County has not had it easy for the last several months. Or perhaps years. Fire season didn't use to be this extensive, did it? Yesterday there were so many little brush fires around, the local reporter I follow on Twitter was having a hard time keeping them all straight. This afternoon, the Mr and I were on a real estate recon mission, and as we headed to the rural area northeast of Boulder, we were surprised by a wall of smoke. There was yet another grass fire, and right as I wondered aloud whether I would be permitted to drive all the way to where I wanted to turn, both of our phones went off in reverse-911 kind of alert, saying they were evacuating the area we were pointed towards. They got a handle on this fire fairly quickly, but man, these are coming one after another. I'd welcome a few of those famed April showers.

I had a very busy day, impeded somewhat by a still sore skeleton. I've been scaled back to only quarterly visits to the PT, as my lymphoedema has been behaving very well since the last surgery. I got to hang out with the cutest kid in Colorado twice today, interrupted by the drive near the grass fire and drinks with the Rotary club. During my first Valerie time, we watched boatloads of Cats (the musical) videos. For her second act, she was a superstar, playing all over grandma and grandpa's house while the boring grownups played their own games. She showed off how smart she is getting, and how quickly she is overcoming her vocabulary regression. She went several months hardly speaking in front of anyone but her parents. Lately, she is showing off just how many words she knows and is willing to repeat. The longest word we have heard came tonight. We were practicing naming letters, and she mistook a capital B for an S. I said, "B like bumblebee," and went on to pointing at other things. I thought at first she was saying "Valerie" because that's what I pointed at next. Then I realized she was sounding out bumblebee until she got it right. We were all appropriately impressed. She said it a good twenty times, including on camera for her mommy who was at work. What a kid.

Flex

Inspirational song: Dizzy (Tommy Roe)

Last night, I described my body as a rat colony in a trench coat. I said eventually it would turn on itself. Just as predicted, my freshly-kneaded muscles snapped back in my lumbar region, while I was sitting in the uncomfortable chairs at Rotary. I went from feeling just fine to seized up and unable to swing or roll my hips to move smoothly. It didn't necessarily hurt much. I just couldn't boogie to save my life. 

I went home and decided it wasn't worth messing around trying half-assed remedies. I went for the big guns I keep in the vault for days like this. I had one of the stronger flexeril (10mg vs 5mg they gave me for cancer surgery) and made sure I fed the animals on time so that I could snooze. It all worked like a charm. I'm still loose and flexible, and I expect I will be asleep when my head hits the pillow.

In fact, I'm ready for bed now. Looking forward to it and everything. I just have to convince my snuggly boy cat that we need to move to a different spot. He will take it as an insult.

FRE

Inspirational song: Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin' (Journey)

Everything feels so much better tonight. Even the still stiff and sore parts are more just squeezed and manipulated than anything. I went three full months without a massage, which probably doesn't sound like long to those of you who grew up in normal bodies. Let me tell ya', my chronically ill body doesn't cotton to going long periods between forcible relaxation events. It's less like a body and more like a rat colony in a trench coat. Eventually it's going to turn on itself and there will be biting. But now, as I struggle to stay awake, with all my muscles squeezed into submission, I am so glad I finally got in to see one of my massage therapists.

I wasn't sure how I would react to lying face down on the table. I hadn't even practiced once at home. Surprisingly, first time prone since the surgery went very well. No pain, no need to shift around and ask for extra padding. The therapist was raving about how good things looked on my arms, and on the parts of the scars she could see on my rib cage. (I didn't flash the front at her. Not only is that against the rules, but I also didn't feel like disrespecting her that way.) She said she could really see improvement, where there was less edema and even less inflammation around my wedding rings. She said she noticed before how puffy my ring finger looked when we were talking about me heading into surgery, and now it looks great. 

Once she got going, she did amazing work. She has a real instinct for finding the parts that need attention, and knowing exactly how deep to go with it. She was very dainty around the post surgery parts, being very careful not to set my recovery backwards. I left there feeling better than I have in ages. I made multiple appointments before I left, and I'm all booked up through August. I'm not missing out on regular body work again if I can help it.

I've had a lot of days in my recent life where I couldn't do jack because I did things the day before and was completely out of energy. I was sort of there today, but in a very different frame of mind. Yes, I was sleepy, but more because I was relaxed for the first time in weeks, not just because I worked so hard yesterday. I want so much to go back for another massage right away. I have to remind myself that all those tissues need to drain and heal and whatever else they do after a good squeeze. 

ATP Low

Inspirational song: Love Will Keep Us Together (Captain and Tenille)

Gonna be interesting to see whether I have enough adenosine triphosphate (ATP) to complete a whole blog post. I literally used up all of my go molecules cleaning house, cooking, and following that cute little rascal grandbaby. I had suggested earlier that once the kids went home, we should watch season 2 of Bridgerton (he for the first time and me restart after watching half). By the time he was ready, I was melted into a chair, completely pinned by all 6-7 pounds of one Harvey Monkey, the tiniest of man cats. I can't even pick him up, I'm so out of energy. Stumbling into the room with the TV, and focusing my eyes for a whole hour is right out of the question.

It was worth getting this tired, I can't lie. After so many months of having no drive to get my literal house in order, for the last week I've been making incredible progress cleaning and organizing. I can probably point to a half dozen contributing factors, all of which were necessary to get me to this level of functionality. Today I steam cleaned the living room rug, which has to be done a lot more often than you would think, between a grandkid, coffee-drinking husband, and beer-drinking friends. (At least Saoirse doesn't still do puppy things on this rug.) I also did laundry, changed the sheets on the bed, washed dishes, wiped down the bathroom, cleaned the kitchen counters, and mopped two rooms of tile. How on earth did I manage all of this in one day, all before the kids came over? Because then I chopped a boatload of vegetables for stir-fry and chased Valerie around. I am going to pay for this tomorrow.

Well, I actually will pay tomorrow, in tip money to my massage therapist. It will be the first time I'm able to get in since January, and wow do I need it. I was supposed to see my regular guy two weeks ago, but he canceled on me. I don't know why. New girl is very trustworthy, and she knows her way around a large, chronically ill body. I'll be in good hands, so to speak.

Okay, I made it to the end. Now I can post this and maybe "rest my eyes" a minute in my chair, with Harvey still keeping my legs from floating off into space. Good tired is still tired.

Vaguepost

Inspirational song: Secret Agent Man (The Ventures)

Well, it is exceptionally frustrating to have had a really cool experience that I'm not allowed to talk about at length. I asked at the beginning of a group outing whether I was able to take photos and eventually post them online. I was asked not to do so, or really say much at all, and I respected that. But man, is it hard not giving specifics of where I spent most of the day.

Besides being on a secret mission, I spent quality time with friends, several of whom are new buddies. I was the designated driver, so I got to show off my fancy new car. Three adults fit comfortably in the back seat, and all the passengers remarked how smooth the ride was. I tell you, Hyundai should hire me as a brand ambassador. I'm working hard on repping them as it is.

After our mystery outing was completed, we stopped off at one of my favorite casual restaurants for refreshments. We ended up chatting more than an hour over soup and salad. It was a whole lot of fun. 

Someday I'll get to go back to this undisclosed location, hopefully with some or all of these same people. I'll take photos and collect grand stories that I can share. Unfortunately, today is not that day. But, hey, I got a picture of a somewhat hostile goose!

Cross Purposes

Inspirational song: Should I Stay or Should I Go? (The Clash)

Whoops. I got to the end of the day and looked to see what I'd taken photos of. The only things that were new were very mundane. A photo of table leaves, meant to ask which of my daughters they belonged to. A picture of pool and spa chemicals, asking whether I needed to pick some up. And that was it. So I looked around at what was relevant for what happened today, and as I geared up to take a photo of what I'd bought, I realized what mixed signals it would be sending.

My main focus of the day was to take the girls up to Loveland, so my daughter could purchase a 2-kid stroller. She found the exact one she wanted used on Facebook marketplace, for less than half of a new one. She was all over that. She likes getting these things second-hand, not just because they save money, but also so she doesn't feel like she is feeding into rampant consumerism. She's only going to need this thing for a few years, and I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't pass it on to some other mom of more than one kid down the road. This is all well and good, and I admire her desire to consume less plastic and throw less in landfills, on the whole.

The problem came when we made our third stop (second was a bank). We wandered around Walmart, just to spend time together and give Val some out-of-carseat time. I ended up grabbing a handful of brand new baby toys, because I'm grandma and primary babysitter. I got an alphabet puzzle, magnetic letters for the fridge (finally found them), one of those balls they keep in a pen in the middle of the aisle, and a xylophone. So on a trip to be conscious of consumerism, here I am buying a whole bunch of new plastic. I think I failed this assignment.

Run of the Mill

Inspirational song: Speak to Me (Pink Floyd)

For real this time, I have no idea what to write. There's nothing wrong. I'm not struggling with excessive pain or unreasonable fatigue. I'm just kind of mellow and pleasantly tired, and I am thinking fondly of bed. I don't have the drive to tear through my thoughts for the day for something to ascribe meaning to. The bulk of my day was spent babysitting, and it was nice. Val was in a good mood, and chatty as heck. Not everything she said was actual English, but there were several recognizable words that came out. She and her grandpa went to the park for a while, and had a good time despite strong winds. I had almost gotten her down for a nap when her parents showed up to take her home. Nice day, but not earth-shattering. That said, I think I'll take myself to bed and get rested up for shenanigans tomorrow.

Lore

Inspirational song: Puppy Love (Donny Osmond)

Saoirse says it is bedtime. Or snuggle time. Really, those are the same thing. Either way, she doesn't want me to continue to sit in my recliner, working on the blog. No matter how much I squirm, she keeps putting her mouth on my feet, to keep me from focusing. She was locked in the garage with Murray while everyone was here, including Valerie, for game night, so there wasn't even more chaos. She got lonely out there, and now won't leave me alone. Ditto for the cats. As soon as the last two guys left, Athena walked out of the bedroom and started talking to me. Alfred is camped in my lap now (making evading Saoirse's affection even that much harder.) The pets aren't afraid of the gang, but they don't get nearly the one-on-one attention they require, so they get huffy and stay distant for those couple hours.

I wasn't sure whether the game was here or next door, so I spent much of the day tidying up as if it were here. I made way more progress than I expected. Maybe that was because I didn't have to spend any time or energy on the stuff I worked on so hard Monday. Maybe it was because I've already made a dent with the roughly 100 things I've already donated. Maybe I was just ruthless. It was just nice having that much clean countertop exposed and easily re-cleared once everyone left. Several days of babysitting start tomorrow. What are the odds this will last?

We restarted our game that went on hiatus last fall when the Mr started a semester where he taught four classes at once. The entire night was devoted to recapping where we have been, re-reading history and lore of this world, and making a single decision what to do next. In game time, we literally never left the room where we are staying. We just returned from dinner and started talking about what to do the next day. I don't think we actually made that choice yet. My daughter couldn't be here tonight, since she works Wednesday evenings, so we joked that Valerie would play her character. This is the one that is alternately a little boy or a ginger cat, who gets a little too eager to do magic and creates area-of-effect spells that end up knocking the wind out of one of us (or worse). We said all Val needed to do was roll a 20-sided die and squeal. She's good at that. So when Val's mommy texted in, she said Val has now declared Oliver (the character) to be a Jellicle cat. Of course. We should have known.

 

Kaleidoscope Eyes

Inspirational song: Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds (The Beatles)

All those hours of scrubbing walls, floors, and fixtures yesterday took their toll today. I was pretty wiped out. I still had to go to PT to monitor my arm for any increase in lymphoedema, and was on double-duty at Rotary (setup and walking around selling weekly drawing tickets). I was silly enough to tell myself I'd tackle another space today. As if. I sat on my butt and played computer games and listened to TV for the bulk of the day. 

Later in the evening, I brought the baby over here so her daddy could get a little housecleaning done himself. Now my living room looks like I basically just sacrificed my space for his. All the toys are out, scattered everywhere. I'll deal with it tomorrow. It's basically bedtime now.

I am well trained, and know to send photos to my daughter regularly when the baby is here. While Val was standing near my chair, I set the phone on the arm of the recliner, turned on the camera, and waited. It took no time at all for her to look down. I sent the funny upside-down picture I got to my daughter. Within the hour, it was returned to me as a meme from my son-in-law. I got permission to share here, but I have decided to bury it under the tree blossom picture I took this afternoon. That way it isn't the thumbnail, so only people who read this far get the treat. 

Fabulous

Inspirational song: Shine On, You Crazy Diamond (Pink Floyd)

Every so often I devote column inches here to rave about some new thing I have discovered, that pretty much everyone else on the planet already knows about. It's usually recipes, sometimes art or music, and once in a while, it's a product. Today, it's that last one. 

For several years now, I've heard friends and acquaintances tell me that the cleaner Fabuloso was the way to go. Some said it was what their abuela used when they were growing up. Some learned through a job. I mostly smiled and nodded, and continued buying Lysol or Mr Clean because they were my preferred scents. (Never Pine Sol. Ugh. There's childhood trauma there, from a day care center I hated. Won't touch that crap.) Now, in my season of YouTube binges, I have heard a professional say Fabuloso was better for tile because it is pH neutral. (Same dude said what I had been using--vinegar--was etching my grout, making it worse.) Then the last nail in the coffin was a day or two ago, the Mr was watching an old Ralphie May comedy stand up where he raves about the stuff, saying it will clean an-ee-thing! Okay fine, I made the leap. We were at Costco, and I got an enormous jug of it, for like 8 bucks. Time to experiment.

I mopped the kitchen floor, where the Mr had come running in with muddy sandals on when he got a bloody nose that morning. I learned that it does need to be rinsed with water to avoid filming over slightly, but it cleaned really well. The only variety they had at Costco was the purple one, lavender scented, and wow is it a strong smell. Not unpleasant, but overpowering even when diluted. 

Today I devoted all of my time and energy to deep cleaning the bathroom. It was long overdue, especially since I'd barely done more than do a quick disinfecting for most of this year so far. I went top to bottom, all the way around, and I mean I was actually on a step stool, getting accumulated dust off the walls, all the way to kneeling on my bath mat, using a magic eraser to get the edges of the floor tile, and everything in between. My nose is somewhat numb to the lavender now, but when the Mr came back from his evening meeting, he sure noticed it. 

Overall impression: those people were right. This is an amazing cleaner. Not sure how long the smell will linger. I wore disposable gloves for most of the work, but even when I didn't, it didn't irritate my hands. They're a little dry, but that's all. I'm pleased with my purchase. Five stars, would recommend.

Still Got It

Inspirational song: North Country Girl (Pete Townshend)

For more than two years, I've been watching my hair come back in, wondering whether I would get and then keep the post-chemo curls. At first, it just seemed a bit wild, not necessarily curly. It was also mousey gray, which I thought I could handle, but turns out I couldn't. I didn't know how to take care of curly hair, so who knows what that first year might have looked like had I been a bit more purposeful in my styling. (Honestly, lack of styling. I just brushed it and let it go. All wrong.) It wasn't until I turned to YouTube for guidance that I figured out there was a method and set of products needed here. For a while it was amazing, with my hair doing everything the girls in the videos said it could. 

Then it started getting really long, and harder to work with. I had a permanent bird's nest on the back of my head, unable to get a brush through it. The ends were super dry and crunchy. But I was afraid if I cut the tightest coils off the bottom, the rest would just give up and be only vaguely frizzy straight. I needed a cut, but I spent months emotionally unready to say goodbye to those tight curls that were so desperately wanted in early winter of 2019.

I finally gave in and let my talented daughter loose on my hair today. She promised she wouldn't cut more than two inches, but when she showed me a lock she had cut, it was easily three inches. Too late to back out at that point, so I waited to see what would happen. She finished the back, and gave me some layers around my face for a softened look. I turned my head upside down, and scrunched my slightly-damp hair. Darned if it didn't seem to hold a strong wave/loose curl. I went home and put a styling foam in it and finished drying with the diffuser. My worst hair fears may not be realized, at least not yet. No frizzy straight hair. I still have my cancer curls. And what's better, I have a bouncy shape that makes me feel like myself, as it should be. Doesn't hurt that I dyed my roots before the cut. I even did makeup, so I could get a cute selfie to send my mom.

Catching Up

Inspirational song: If YoubLove Somebody Set Them Free (Sting)

Confession is good for the soul, they say, so in that spirit, here goes. I was way, way behind on my "donate an item every day" project. Like had not actually put things in the box since the week before I had surgery. I'd been telling myself to get caught up, but inertia was a stronger force, and I just stayed in my chair.

Today I grabbed a giant cardboard box that had been taking up space in the craft room, and set it out to fill. I transferred all of the February items that were still in the bin into it, and then went around the house grabbing things. I needed 31 items to complete March, and I didn't let myself ponder anything too hard. There were some things I had been mulling over donating, and today, out they went. It was almost too easy, filling up a 2'x2'x2' box. I had to have help getting it into the car, and there was a nice young man at the ARC ready to carry it away for me. I made mention that there were a few glass items in there, and he said they would do their best not to break them in transfer. I said, you know what, they're out of my hands now. I'm not going to worry about it.

I've got my eye on a few things I'm ready to drop off for the next round, and since the month is already 1/3 over, I need to start gathering. I wonder whether there is anything on the outside that can go. Spring cleanup time has started in the yard. Maybe some yard decorations have served their purpose here and can move on. I'll have to check.

At Night

Inspirational song: One Headlight (The Wallflowers)

A week and a half into this thing, and I'm just now getting around to taking the new car out at night. In fact, I just insisted we go out to our favorite casual Mexican restaurant, when neither of us were super hungry, for the sole purpose of seeing how the car feels at night. From the moment the car turned on, we were taken aback at how bright the headlights are. I said it is a good thing the lights themselves are down so low, else people would want to murder me as I'm approaching on the road. I could easily see the notch in the beam pattern that someone on YouTube mentioned. I'm not sure whether that was for a specific purpose, or just a happy accident of how the bulbs are arranged in the cluster. 

When I pulled into the driveway at the end of the night, I noticed the beams making rectangles on the garage door, with those notches looking like pupils in a cartoon drawing of glasses. A friend of mine is married to a member of the punk rock band the Descendents, and they have a highly stylized drawing of a face wearing rectangular glasses as their logo. Just yesterday I saw her drinking from a water bottle with that drawing on it. So seeing that pattern on my garage door made me stop and say hey, that's, uh, Milo? Is that face considered Milo? Something like that. I had to Google both the band/logo and the term for seeing faces in random objects (pareidolia).

Yesterday was a frustrating day with the car, watching the battery drain like there was a hole in it, as I drove to Fort Collins. Today was much better. Two trips around town, and I still have more than 3/4 full battery. I enjoyed taking it around at night, and I'm looking forward to switching out the ambient lighting color with my mood (currently a warm purple). I offered to let Mr S-P drive to dinner and he declined. He was too tired. That's okay. I'm still having fun with it.

No Means No

Inspirational song: Mind Your Own Business (Hank Williams)

What inspires people to do door to door sales in this day and age? I couldn't imagine me doing it at any point in history, but I get that it was an okay way of doing business many, many years ago. But now? How can it be anything besides a scam? I probably avoided some new and awful thing today, but only just. I had tipped over and involuntarily napped on my couch, and had only just begun to wake when I looked up and saw a young woman walk up on my porch and knock on the door. She was holding a box maybe one foot cubed. I know I have a no soliciting sign, so I thought fine, I'll open the door, and see if this is a neighbor who got something of ours by mistake. Nope. She starts a spiel about this air freshener device in the box, how it's a free gift to me, and what do we usually use to make the house smell good? All she wants is for me to let her in, plug in the device and add water to it, and give her an opinion on how it works. There is no part of this that sounds above-board. A stranger wants to come into my house and plug in an electronic device? How about never. Thank goodness Saoirse was right there with me, playing her part. I had a grasp on her collar, and she was tugging like she wanted to run out. It kind of helped me shoo this young scammer away, looking all flustered with my big, uncontrollable dog.

There have been more times than would seem normal that I have found myself in much this situation. I wake up and there is someone trying to gain entrance to my space and sell me stuff. I've even fallen for it before in my younger days, usually because when I wake after a hard afternoon nap, I'm groggy and not making good decisions. How do these people find me at just that moment? I remember clearly it happening in the dorms in college, and some guy with an English accent got me to buy magazines this way. (First question, who let him into the dorm??) I thought putting up a no soliciting sign would protect me, and every once in a while I see someone start to walk up, see it on my storm door, and turn around. But the worst ones just don't respect it. They tell me I need new windows or a roof inspection. They try to sell me meat from a truck that is "extra," so they have to let it go right away. The worst is security systems. Got one of those last week. I never feel less safe that when a guy comes by trying to sell me a security system, not because of the thinly veiled racist hints he makes about my neighbors up the street. I feel like the salesman himself is the suspicious dude.

I guess we need to make a couple of changes. We need a bigger, more emphatic no soliciting sign. And I guess I need curtains, since I spend so much time sitting in the room facing the front door. It's harder to pretend I'm not home when they can see me sitting here. Might want to consider not shushing the big dog when she barks, too. Oddly, today she let that woman get all the way to the porch without a single woof.

Inject

Inspirational song: Head Games (Foreigner)

By the time the neurologist swapped out syringes the first time, the botox started to work to relax the nerves in my head. It is a beautiful thing, how quickly it provides relief. This time around, one of the needle sticks above my left ear hit something, a nerve or contracted muscle, and made a super weird spasm happen. I couldn't decide in the moment whether it was an improvement or not, and I'm still not sure. Overall, the difference is like night and day. I talked to the doc about how bad it gets in those last two weeks before I'm allowed to have a new dose (insurance and/or dosing requirements say a minimum of 12 weeks between visits), and he told me to come in for an occipital block to get through the rough times. If I had known that was a thing, I would have gone in two weeks ago. I'm looking forward to trying the new method this time around. He says it works really well for other folks.

I brought the baby home with me after my botox. We stopped at Walmart on the way here, to buy the big girl car seat while they had the cool purple one in stock, although it is gonna stay in the box until I am given permission to use it. She weighs enough to use it as intended, but her parents want her to stay rear-facing a little longer for safety. We also bought a new alphabet toy while we were at the store. I looked and looked for low-tech magnetic letters to go on the fridge. Never found them. Instead, I picked up a baby tablet that speaks letters and numbers at her. Good enough for today, but I'm going to try other stores for magnetic letters.

I ran out of steam by the end of the day. The baby was a whole lot, and I still had some lingering pain and fatigue from the migraines that will fade over days. We went over for board games with the regular group, and Val and I wore out right around the same time. So glad this group is casual about who attends and for how long.