A Day In The Life of a Stubbly Troll

Posts tagged ‘cats’

The Troll Has Definitely Done It *This* Time

Well, folks, when the Troll does things, she believes in doing them the right way, wholeheartedly, both feet in and screaming Geronimo!   And this past week was one of those weeks, believe me you.

Labor Day began like every other day around here.  I woke up, poured myself out of the bed, performed my morning ministrations, got my soda, and saddled up the dogs.  Have I told you about the dogs yet?  I’ll get around to them.  Out into the great out yard we went, Little Dog ran around frantically, then peed and pooped, Mommy hunted daddy cat, and I tried to wake up.  URGH.

I picked up the ‘puter to do stuff.  As the amazing stuff was pouring into my ‘puter, the canines needed to go out again.  I’m not sure what I was doing, exactly, but I stood up, and KA-POW–the pain that shot through my head was incredible.  Funny, though, that there weren’t any stars.  I expected stars……..  I stepped outside, holding my head, leaned on the wall, hoping I wasn’t going to pass out.  That having passed, I then felt my forehead.  I had a deep indentation, the size and shape of the latch I hit.  I knew right then it wasn’t going to be a good day.

Making the rest of the day short, I soon found myself getting ill, and DS took me to ER without even taking a shower!  Six or seven hours later, and 5 (anxiety induced?) partial seizures later, it was announced.  You have a concussion.  And a bonus!  Otitis media, (middle ear infection)……  Several horse pills later, and my condom emesis bag, (vomit bag, shaped like nothing more than a giant blue condom, with a hard plastic rim at the top!), and I was on my way home.

I slept ceaselessly for two days, the headache pounding every time I stood up.  Then Sleeping Beautytroll woke up, but with more than my normal confusion and goofiness.

By the time I picked up the computer, I was back to normal, so I can’t blame the concussion, as much as I want to.  : (      (Gasp)  The week got worse, you’re thinking?  Oh, yes, indeedy do, it did.  Much worse.   You see, as my daughter explained it to me, I am an old, sick woman, and these  kinds of things keep happening to old, sick women.  Well, I beg to differ with her.  I am NOT old…….

My husband was a self taught computer genius.  At home, he always talked about the computer in GREAT detail.  I picked up a lot about the ‘puter back then–I had no choice.  So, I was fairly ‘puter savvy.  But he’s been dead 11 years.  And things have changed a lot.  The kids only talk about the ‘puter *after* I have messed up.  I am not a “lets read up on this and see how it’s done” kind of person.  If I can’t do it without instructions, well,………

It started out innocently enough.  “You need to update Chrome”, the ‘puter said.  OK, I knew there was a new version of Chrome, and so I went to work up-dating Chrome.  Then, “Let’s update Adobe Flash Player”, it said.  I should have known in the beginning that trying to update Chrome was a bad idea.  The version I was using was already updated.  But, the short cut I clicked on was one I never used, and was MY Chrome, had my name on it, not the version DD had installed, I thought, and, with my flawed logic shimmering like the gold at the end of a rainbow, I began to practically destroy the computer!

DS looked at it after my cry of help.  He shook  his head and rolled his eyes.  He does that a lot.   He did a few things–I learned something–I did a few things, too, after that.  None of them helped.  The next day we ran the Malware program.  THREE trojans and one backdoor later, plus I don’t know how many other nasties, and I was hoping the floor would open up and swallow me.  I have *never* done anything this bad to the ‘puter before.  A BACKDOOR for Pete’s sake!  All deleted, one more malware and virus program run, just to be on the safe side, and all clear.  DS did his magic to the ‘puter, and all seems well, except these annoying commercials that keep popping up *everywhere*.  Minor, but annoying.

So, guess what the Troll has to do this week?  Change ALL my passwords.  Even all the ones I wasn’t going to use again.  It will take me FORever to change my passwords.  Maybe even into next week.  I fatigue easily, my passwords are complex, and even composing them taxes my brain.  And I probably have to come up with about 50.

OK, now about the dogs.  My friend in KY, in the town I’m from, had to rescue a Pekingese.  She is about 3 years old, fawn colored, black nose and around her eyes and ears.  She is a good dog, except she is having to learn how not to chase my kittens.  She is house-broken, ?paper trained?, loves to go out-side, but we have to take her outside on a leash because we live right next to a highway.  She has an under bite, but once I got used to that, she is a beautiful dog.  My friend was deciding if she wanted her puppy.  She was going to tell the owners the next day.  They were abusive to the dogs to our faces, I was visiting then, and I saw it, right along with her.  Her daughter was friends with the people who had the dogs, and they had stopped by to give them some things on the way to the wedding we were attending.  As abuse goes, what we saw wasn’t horrible, horrible, but picking Cuddles up by her collar and throwing her across the floor was pretty bad, I’d say.

We arrived at our intended destination, and her daughter received multiple texts.  If you don’t take Cuddles, too, she will be shot.  So, of course, my friend HAD to take Cuddles, and the puppy.  We got the dogs to her house, and they had fleas so bad, they almost killed one of her kittens.  She has kittens about the same age as mine.  As a matter of fact, Little Dog is about the same age as all the kittens, as well.

I have the dogs right now, because my friend is quite ill, and can’t care for them at all.

We are looking for a home for Cuddles.  Anyone in the Southeastern area of Kentucky, surrounding Clay County, somewhere close enough where she could even meet you half way, if you could not come get Cuddles.  She needs a SAFE, loving home.  Some place where she can run outside without the fear of getting into the road, not having to be tied outside and left, like her previous owners did, and she can come in and be loved on, and she can be free of the fleas.  She loves sitting with DD, and she loves to be petted, and just sitting next to her  human and chilling.  She is a GOOD dog and does not deserve being mistreated.  But, then again, no animal deserves mistreatment.  God meant for us to be their keepers, not their torturers.   As for my friend and I, we have the love, but not the homes.

So, now, off I go to change passwords.     : (

Big Dog, Little Dog

We’ve been busy.  The kind of busy I don’t like.  But, I can’t complain, (because no one would believe me anyway, LOL).  I have God, my loving family, just enough money to live on, roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and as much of our health as we have.  We are well and truly blessed.  However, just because I am blessed, I *don’t* have to like everything that happens.  Just so you know.

I had my brain MRI, the results I will find out Monday.  This weekend,  DD and I went away to go to my niece’s wedding, her cousin.  Sorry to be nit picky, but the way people divorce and remarry these days,  one can never be too specific about a relationship’s status.  This weekend was a disaster.  I think it was doomed to fail.  And it didn’t help that DD has stopped smoking and is still hugely cranky and mean.

We started out late.  I was fairly ready before she even woke up.  She didn’t wake up until noon.  Getting in the car was an event, and she was *not* happy.  She was Duck & Cover unhappy.  After we got on the road, we had to stop and get a bite for me to eat, so I could take my medicine.  I was going to make myself a vegetarian, Boca patty (I dress them like a hamburger, and they are delicious!)  BTW, Morning Star is owned by Monsanto–don’t buy Morning Star.  Didn’t have time, though.

She had been going to stop by her GF house, they were having a yard sale, and she had some things to give them.  That was the only way she could be sure they would be home.  The yard sale was only until 2p, and we missed the yard sale, but they were home.  They had a puppy that I fell in love with, and I said I *might* take her.  Much to my dismay, they sent my daughter a text , shortly after we left, and told her that if I didn’t take mommy, the husband was going to kill her!  So, not only am I for sure taking the puppy, but now I have to take Mommy, too.    Just bloody wonderful.

We made it to the motel too close to comfort to wedding time, only to find out that our reservation was 20 minutes away.  There was not a room with double beds in the motel.  We were going to try to make it to the other motel and back, but I went back inside and, in tears, asked the manager wasn’t there anything she could do?  She had a non-smoking king with a pull-out.  Excellent.  The process of registering, however, was excruciating.  My brother had paid with points.  I had to call the main number to change over the points.  They couldn’t do that, but there were enough points to pay for the second room.  Then I had to call the first motel and ask them to refund the points to my brother’s account.   The manager wouldn’t let me fill out any paperwork until *all* of that was done.  And 7:30 was fastly approaching.

We got in, and DD went to the wedding.  I stayed back and nursed my ill tummy.  SHE came back at 9:30.

Back to the dogs.  We picked them up.  Turns out that Cuddles *loves* to look out the window.  She *doesn’t* like to look out the window when the car is going 70 mph.  Note to self!  LOL  We finally got her to stay in the back seat and run between the two back windows, instead of trying to run between the two *front* windows.  You can see the problem there.  The puppy sat in my lap for awhile, then climbed in the back, sat miserably for awhile, and barfed.  Poor carsick baby.

The dogs are home, and DS named the puppy Little Dog, since we have a Big Dog.  Big Dog is a large predominantly black dog with white on him.  He’s cool.  He was the neighborhood stray, until DD moved home.   He’s a good dog, as long as he leaves the cats alone, and he’s smart, albeit a little stubborn.  He believes in guarding his people, that’s for sure.  The evening we had to call the police to get the pistol out of the branch (a small stream of water) in front of our house–maybe I’ll explain that someday–he had to be physically removed to the porch when the policeman was asking me my information.  He did *not* like that policeman.  LOL  He’s learning tricks, and that’s where the stubborn comes in.  He knows the tricks I want him to do, he just decides he doesn’t want to do them, no matter that I have his favorite treat.  And he’s got bones buried all over the neighborhood.  If you give him a bone, he ignores it.  Later the bone will be gone, and he will be running frantically around–looking, of course, for a place to bury his bone.  When DD and I were beginning to work on the garden, we dug up one of his bones and gave it to him.  If I remember correctly, he took it and re-buried it!  LOL

Little Dog, she is a pip.  If one could bottle her energy for an hour, one could probably supply a whole day’s electricity for an entire village!  She is very sweet, but she jumps on us, and licks us.  It is especially annoying when we are trying to love on Cuddles, give Cuddles a treat, put Cuddles on her leash, pet on Little Dog, pick something up out of the floor, bend over, and, well, I think you get the picture.  She is part Pekingese and part Chihuahua.  She is colored like her mother, but she has her daddy’s nose.  I don’t know if her fur will change, it is sooo soft now, and her mother’s is coarse, but not terribly so.  When we go on walks, Momma has to walk on a leash.  Little Dog doesn’t.  She runs and runs.  She rolls in the grass,  hides in the tall grass, runs up the small hill to the neighbor’s yard, where she knows she is not supposed to go.  She chases honey bees and butterflies–good thing she hasn’t caught a honey bee yet!  This morning she was after a small bush with thorns on it!  We have an almost dead, gravel driveway.  She loves to fight with the little patches of weeds that grow up through the gravel.  She *loves* Uncle Big Dog.  She runs up to him, rolls over and lets him sniff her, then jumps up on him, over and over, follows him around, runs after him, jumps in his face, and generally is a nuisance.  He ignores her.  He has much patience.  Me, on the other hand, has to wrestle her to the ground, and rub her belly, which she LOVES.  And she will take spells where she runs manically through the house.  Kind of like she has been in the cat’s hidden stash of cat nip.  So do the cats.  Cuddles only runs through the house to chase the cats.

Cuddles is Little Dog’s momma.  She is a good dog, but right now she is sad, because she is not at home.  She is fawn colored with a black nose.  She has an under bite.  She thinks DD is her mother right now, and she gets hyper spastic when she leaves the room.  I don’t know why, my daughter is a witch right now, pure and simple.  If she were any more judgmental, I swear, she’d be Judge Judy!  No, let me fix that, she’s past Judge Judy, and makes her look like a pussy cat.  I’d like to find those genes…….   So, when Cuddles goes out on her walks, she hunts.  What for, I have no idea.  She sniffs the air, then puts her nose the ground and leads me around.  The path is pretty much the same, unless I make her go somewhere else.  And she will gaze longingly across the road, where the deer live.  I’m not sure if she wants to hunt deer, or just wants to go across the road.  The latter, probably.  We can’t let her off her leash, because we are too close to the road.  I hope we can find a good home for her soon.

DD and DS are getting ready to go out.  I will have to listen to Cuddles cry again for a good 15 minutes after DD leaves.  DD came in, Cuddles tried to welcome her and she told her to get the hell away from her, or something to that effect.  She is NOT in a good mood.  Poor Cuddles.

So, that’s the Cliff notes on Big Dog and Little Dog, and any dogs in between.  I’m pretty sure they will pop up in conversation again sometime.

I Guess I Woke Up Anxious

Warning, I woke up anxious that morning and decided to write.  I got off topic, which is not unusual for me.  I write like I talk–I ramble.  So forewarned is forearmed.   There is some decent information in here, and a lot of rambling.  I decided to post it anyway, because it fits the criteria of my blog.  Roamings and ramblings about my life.  I am practicing, but at this moment, I CANNOT be succinct.  And it’s gotten worse the older I’ve gotten.  So, beware…….

I woke up this morning embarrassed.  That’s enough about that.  After my potty break, I went into the kitchen and got my tiny bottle of Diet Pepsi (what on *earth* made Pepsi decide to change those nice sized bottles I was drinking out of in the morning, into those pint-sized bottles?  I don’t drink more soda now, I drink less!), and went back to bed.  I turned the electric blanket on–on 1–just enough to warm up my legs, pulled the cover over my head, closed my eyes, and tried in vain to go back to sleep.  My mind wouldn’t  -shut-up-.  I tried to empty my mind by listening to my sound app on my Kindle.  I tried my deep breathing *while* listening to my sound app on my Kindle.  Nope, as you see, I am up, writing.  This is definitely not normal for me in the morning.  Usually, if I can’t go back to sleep, I pick up the story I’m reading, or one of my games I’m reading, oops, playing, and do that until I decide to drag my carcass out of bed.  My Kindle and I get a lot of alone time together, LOL.  But not this morning.  I didn’t have the willpower for that.  My willpower was gone and my mind wouldn’t shut up!  *What* was I going to do?????  I was drowning in self-pity and anxiety!!!!!  Well, in my house, kittens are always a good prescription for self-pity *and* anxiety, and as I was deciding how I was going to divvy up my blog page, anyway, I figgered this would help, too.  I can’t take my medicine til I eat, and I haven’t done that yet.

I took a journal course through ed2go.com .  They have 6 week adult ed classes including such topics as Spanish, Creative Writing, Photography, different computer classes, learn how to draw (which was a stupid class, if I do say so myself, and I do) and so much more.  I haven’t looked at the class list for a long time, so I’m not sure what all they offer now.  Depending what college you go through, the classes cost more or less.  I took my classes through Somerset Community College in Kentucky, and at the time, they were only $89.  They are probably a little more expensive by now.  They also have some more advanced computer classes that range in the $500-$600, that I think are designed for the really serious computer person with money, or companies who have person(s) they want to learn that particular skill and they are willing to spend the bucks for them to learn it.  Me?  I’d have to save to take one of the cheaper ones, now.  I want to take the poetry, or another one of the creative writing ones–I forget which.

Momma cat is sleeping on their *treadmill*.  I might explain that someday.  She is so cute when she sleeps.  A lot of the time, when she sleeps, she will bow her head, like she is praying, and cover her eyes.  Or she will do that and cross her little arms over her eyes, like she did just now.  I can only think she does it to keep the light out of her eyes.  One day I said, “Look Tinker Bell is praying.  Isn’t that sweet?”  DD in her best hateful tone of voice replied, “Mom, animals don’t pray.  They don’t have souls.  It says so in the Bible.”  She claims to be an atheist.  She is angry at God.  I may explain that some day, too.  Well, I have not read that in the Bible, but I have yet to read the whole Bible.  So, what do I know?  I do know, that as caretakers of the animals, we are tasked with CARING for the animals, not abusing them, as seems to be the norm these days.  I am a vegetarian because of animal abuse, and believe me, you will hear more on the subject as my blog blogs along!

It is gloomy out today.  It looks like rain.  Don’t get me wrong.  I am not ungrateful for the rain, I am just sick of it–literally.  All this rain and gloomy weather increases my pain and sets off my seasonal affective disorder, also known as SAD.  It’s probably part of what set off my anxiety this morning as well.  I know, I know, I couldn’t *see* that it was gloomy outside when I woke up, and all the curtains were closed when I made my morning pilgrimage, and my eyes were so puffy that who could have seen outside if they had bothered to look anyway?  (How’s *that* for a run-on sentence?)  But for those of us with pain disorders, the weather affects us whether we can see it or not, and *that* affects our mood.  And now that I think about it, I wonder if the weather has any effect on my anxiety, other than my pain?  I know it affects my depression.

Oh, what is SAD?  I’m sorry, I get to talking, and completely forget myself.  I’m not sure what percentage of people SAD affects.  But, in a nutshell, in the winter time, or in a protracted time of decreased sunshine, like our loooong rainy summer, certain people tend to get depressed.  I just did a quick scan on Wikipedia.  The theory is that SAD began way, way back in our prehistoric days when men and women were fighting sabre tooth tigers and men were dragging women around by their hair.  Well?  Isn’t that how it is in all the old movies?   So, food was scarce in the winter time and it is thought that people were forced into sort of a semi-hibernation.

Our form of it is SAD, which Wiki said ranges from app 1.4%, I believe, in Florida, to almost 10% nearing the Arctic Circle (or is Antarctic?  I *was* taught geography, and quite well, I just have dust in my brain this morning, and it’s landing on my synapses!).  Anyway, the one north of us.  Two theories are lack or melatonin, and lack of serotonin.  There was one more, but, quite frankly, I didn’t understand it.   Light treatment has been the standard treatment for it–sitting in front of a special light box–but going outside during any hint of sunshine is probably the best treatment.  MY problem is that the cold really hurts me.  I avoid the cold like the plague……

Some of the symptoms are listlessness, *anxiety* (who knew?), sleeping too much, over eating, depression.  I’m taking this information from Wikipedia.  Neither Wikipedia nor I are trained mental health professionals and any information I have written here that you think might pertain to you, you need to check out with your doctor.  SAD can mimic other mental/emotional disorders, and it is important, and I cannot stress this enough, if you have symptoms of an mental/emotional illness that are severe enough to disrupt your life, cause loved ones, friends or even casual acquaintances to worry about you, or cause you concern, please, and I cannot stress this enough, go to your doctor, tell your doctor what is troubling you, get a thorough check-up, because it could be something physical, then let the doctor tell you what to do.  If you are indigent (penniless, like my children), there are free/sliding scale clinics, that you should be able to find, that will be able to help you.

OK, done with that preaching.

Ooohh, I see a bit of sun shining.

DS has his first appointment at Comp Care today.  He really needs to go.  I hope he goes and keeps up with it.  He has what is referred to as Generalized Anxiety Disorder.  Sounds so benign, doesn’t it.  His doesn’t make him a kermit–you know, one of those people who never leave their homes, and grow long white beards, and live in caves, and have a bear as a pet, and……..  He has a lot of problems.

I tried to start writing yesterday, 25 July, but I sat down at the ‘puter, and my eyes began drooping, and my head was suddenly empty–which, honestly, is not a new state for me, LOL  So this is 26 July.  It’s a work in progress, for sure.

Let’s see,  I had to stop writing Wednesday because I had to go to my neurologist.  Why?  Short story–during at least two CT scans at the local hospitals, they found something in my brain, said it needed to be followed, and if it continued to cause problems, I needed an MRI.  The problem was, no one bothered to tell *me* any of this.  I found out about it quite by accident.  No one was going to tell me about me about it.  So, my neurologist ordered an MRI.  Fun, fun, I have  claustrophobia……

Also, (stop here if you are squeamish about body parts.  This is not obscene, but some ppl are extra sensitive.  Not sure why…..), as I was saying, also, I have a yeast rash underneath my attributables.   I have always had large attributables.  Size C, at least.  When I was in high school, and riding the bus home, the boys were always sticking their grubby hands down my shirts to feel my attributables.  I carried a hat pin to protect myself, but *I* got in trouble, and had to ditch the hat pin.  The bus driver was an alcoholic, anyway, “one of the boys”. it’s a wonder we actually made it where we were going…….  My neurologist gave me an anti-fungal powder, so I am using that, and it really  hurts when I apply it.  I hope it begins to work soon.

We are not under Duck & Cover anymore.  Praise the Lord.  DD has not smoked in one week, and has been off the patch for 4 days.  She is about as pleasant as she gets.  She can be pretty pleasant, but she can be pretty snippy at times, as well.  So, good on her!  Huzzah!  Party hearty for the princess of will power.  Yippee!!!  Ticker tape and glitter.  Heartfelt happiness for my baby, and gratefulness that her lungs will begin healing.  God bless her.

I went out in the garden yesterday, to pick tomatoes.  I got about halfway up the long row when bees began swarming me!  I am normally not afraid of honey bees.  I pick squash when they are swarming in the squash, pollinating the flowers, and they never even touch me.  But, I had some body spray that I had sprayed on me at the beauty shop, when my daughter had gotten her hair cut Wednesday, before we went to my doctor.  Apparently, enough of the odor left on me so that the bees thought *I* was a flower, so they swarmed me.  It was not so bad when they stayed at the back of my head, but when they began crawling on my face, I began to panic!  I knew they wouldn’t sting me if I moved slowly, but panicked anyway.   I made it into the house by barely breathing, side-stepping slowly, trying my very best to not run and scream.  I took a shower with non-scented soap, changed into completely new clothes, and fell apart.  DD reaction was, “Oh mom, honey bees won’t sting you unless they feel like they or their babies are in danger.”     “I KNOW THAT, BUT THEY WERE SWARMING ON MY FACE!”    “There were only three of them.”  “I DON’T KNOW HOW MANY THERE WERE, BUT THEY WERE SWARMING ON MY FACE!”  She seemed non-plussed, and not at all sympathetic to my panic attack.  She is never sympathetic to my problems.  I’d might as well be living with an automaton.  But I went back in the garden, one bee checked out the back of my head, no worries mon, and that was the end of that.  I threw myself into my work, and finally calmed down.   My heart is pounding just thinking about it!

Yesterday We Went To Canning Class

Yesterday was Monday, 22 July, 2013.  DD and I had signed up with the Extension Office for a four day canning/freezing class.  I don’t know about her, but I’ve been looking forward to it.  Yesterday, we canned our own pint of beans, and put beans in our own quart freezer bag to put in our freezer.  I’ve canned literally thousands of cans of beans, and frozen I don’t know how many bags of beans, but freezing had escaped my memory–don’t know why, it’s so simple–so freezing was a refresher.  And I’m pretty sure Mother didn’t do it the way we did it yesterday, anyway.

We strung the beans.  ‘Bout half a bushel.  We weren’t ‘sposed to break the beans.  WHAT?  Canning beans without breaking them?  Is she crazy?  Everybody in our neck of the woods, at least, knows that beans are ‘sposed to be broken before they’re canned.  THAT’S the way they’re cooked.  Don’t want to have to take them out of the Ball jar and break them.  But she insisted that if we broke them, we’d be there til Kingdom Come.  (Nothing to do with this subject AT all, but did you’all know there is a Kingdom Come State Park in Kentucky?)  Now I know better.  There were about three of us there that were old hands at breaking beans, one with passable experience, a 14 yo, and our pastor’s wife.  With that team, a half bushel of beans could be broken in a skinny minute.  But, all things being equal, which they weren’t, we didn’t break the beans until later.  So, I found my self with the unusual job of stuffing my pint jar with unbroken beans, several of which I had to break the tops off of to make them fit in the jar.  It did make the jar look “purty”.

Our teacher explained all the ins and outs of using a pressure canner.  In went our beans, and when they came out, one of our jars was broken.  Oops, happens sometimes.  Monday we will pick up our jars, and we took our bags home.  Turns out, unlike what we did when Mother and I canned beans, you do not have to put salt in them.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  All those beans my friend and I canned last year, had salt in them, and DD can’t eat them just like they are, as she is on a low sodium diet for her blood pressure.  And she is so young, too.  Barely in her thirties.  : (

While we were there, the soil man, as I call him (I do not know his real title) came in, and one of the other girls and I picked his brain.  She has no grass in her yard apparently, and was they were also talking about container gardening and, oh, shoot, what is it called?  It is where one takes railroad ties, or landscape timbers, or whatnot and builds a box or boxes of whatever size your property will support, fill it with good soil and compost, and garden in it.  I’ve read it is much more efficient than trying to garden in a regular garden space like I’m doing.  But on a limited income, like I am, where am I supposed to get the garden soil?  Well, anyway, the term will come to me eventually, probably at midnight!  LOLOL

I talked to him about how to get a soil sample taken of my garden, composting, organic gardening and how to make a good, easy compost bin.  He gave me literature, explained the procedure for soil sampling (only $6!), told me about a gentleman close to my house who has an organic farm and gave everyone a booklet about gardening.  He is a very nice man.

I found that my pain level ratcheted up about 5 points toward the end of our day, to the point I was having trouble walking.  My muscles around my hips, especially my left hip would suddenly  scream out and I would almost double over in pain.  Praise God, we were almost done.  I managed to get in the car, get home, and promptly fall asleep in the recliner.  DD fell asleep on the sofa.

Before we got in to settle, we went out to look at tomatoes.  We got new colanders in class.  We took one of those to put our tomatoes in.  Once they begin ripening, they pretty much go wild, and gathering them is a full-time job.  The ones that are ripe right now are small ones, but we must have between 20 and 30.  And, oh, they are soooo good.  And what few beans we have left (the deer is eating them) are beginning to come in, and one of the pepper plants has baby peppers.  So, even if we get nothing else from our garden, (it has been a hard, hard year for us), we will at least have that.

We have 4 cats, two yellow parent cats, and two yellow baby kittens.  The kittens were born on May 31.  Mr. Wiggles looks like his father, Stinker, and Luna looks like her mother, Little Girl.  The kittens are hysterical.  Right now, I have a kitten clinging onto the chair, peering at me.  They are into EVERYthing.  Luna races around the house like she has a jet in her rear end, and the two of them kitten fight constantly.  We have our own WWC Smackdown in our house and it is hilarious to watch.  Awhile ago, Luna was in a soda box (all the soda cans were out), and Mr. Wiggles was at the closed end trying to get her.  They are nothing if not goofy!  Never a dull moment around here.

DD is quitting smoking.   She is normally a wicked witch in the morning anyway.  However, do any of you remember Duck and Cover training when you were young?  I know most of you might not even know what Duck and Cover is.  That’s OK, history is not taught in school these days, nor is reading, writing, arithmetic, or any other useful subject such as art, music, physical education ( football and basketball don’t count), oh, and let’s not forget science and geography.  It’s not your fault, so don’t feel badly.  But let me say one thing about history–those who don’t study history are destined to repeat it.   Anyway, back to DD and her smoking.  Her first day was Saturday.  Today is her 4th day.  The mornings are Duck and Cover, until nicotine patch kicks in, then things calm down some.  But she’s still struggling quite a bit with the withdrawal of the 800 other things that are put in cigarettes to keep people addicted and make them die.  She’s doing well, all things considered.

Turns out DD isn’t wearing a patch today–that’s why D&C has been an all day thing since she got up.  She is trying to go w/o the patch.  I admire her will power, but would like to keep my head.  I must admit, she does seem to have calmed down some, but I am hedging my bets, so to speak……

I have grief counseling today.  The counselor is coming to the house.  My father died the beginning of March.  He was in a great nursing home, and the last thing I expected was that he die of nursing home negligence, but there you go.  I hate those commercials on TV, where the lawyers beg people to sue nursing homes for negligence.  (Apparently the patch hasn’t kicked in yet!)  They give the impression that every single person in every single nursing home is being abused.  It ain’t so.  Daddy was in an excellent home.  There were minor little things that weren’t abuse, just my preferences of things that they did or didn’t do.  But, I put him there because I couldn’t take care of him anymore.  Some things, like putting sweats on him during the day that had pajama written on them in big letters, instead of his uniforms that he wore everyday, I said don’t do anymore, and they didn’t.  They shouldn’t have done that anyway, but that WASN’T abuse.  Just annoying.  THEY could get him to take a bath twice a week.  WE couldn’t get him to take a bath for a month or more.  Pajamas in the daytime is a small thing for a clean father.  See what I mean?

My first nursing job was probably one of the best Long Term Care Facilities in the world.  They are not supposed to be called nursing homes.  We even had excellent staffing.  But “loved ones” would come in, (and I use that term loosely) once every six months or so and start ragging on us about the bed not being made up properly, or a spot of dirt on mom’s face, or dad not being in bed already, or whatever.  Excuse me, but if you can take care of them better, then YOU take them home, and do it YOURSELF.  You don’t come to visit, so obviously you don’t give a rat’s rear end about them (no offense to the rat, mind you), and when you do, all you do is piss and moan.  If we’re doing such a horrible job, DO IT YOURSELF!

I applied for a nursing job at one nursing home, and I read the state inspection sheet as I was waiting.  I won’t mention the horrible stuff I read.  I waited for the interview, because I was thinking I could make a difference.  When I went in for the interview, I saw one pitiful looking resident slumped in a wheel chair, all by herself.  I was interviewed by two nurses, and I was not impressed by them, either.  I got the job, alright.  But I got up, walked out the door, and never looked back.  One person was not going to be able to make a difference.  It would have been like trying to empty the ocean one eye dropper at a time.  It just wasn’t going to happen.  THAT was a LTC Facility a lawyer needed to tear into.

Well, I think that is all my musings, or rantings, or whatever you want to call it, for today.  I have a friend to talk to on FB before my counselor gets here.