|
Laura's Links
|
|
Friday Night's Massacre
7/30/07
I itch. Badly. I have the most giant bug-bite on my back that I've ever seen.
The story is odd. In fact, when I think about it, I wonder if I've lost my marbles.
I'll probably tell my therapist about it at our regular appointment this Wednesday, and he'll
assure me that I'm completely sane. Like his opinion's to be trusted?
It started late last Friday afternoon. The boys were home, still fresh from their
surgeries. They were only 24 hours post op, so there was no way they were going for a walk.. Sunny
might run into a small dog and feel that he had to fight his leash-and-collar to try and eat it, bursting
his stitches. They were restless and in some slight pain. They kept asking to go
in and out and in and out our front door onto the patio. In desperation, despite the
heat, I opened the front door and screen, giving them free access as they pleased.
Afternoon turned into evening turned into night. Busy working on my jewelry, I
didn't notice, and the door was still open against the dark. My fan was running in
the corner of the living room; a continuous wind that assured air circulation through the condo.
It must have been around 8:30 pm when I walked into my living room, well past sunset. There, it was a creepy scene right
out of a horror movie. At least a dozen
Japanese Water Beetles (think 2" long cockroach) were entering my condo through the front door.
At least another 10 to 15 making their way across my living room towards the fan. And another dozen
of them were gathered directly in front of it, facing it and the breeze.
I'm not one for girly panic. Quietly making my way into the kitchen, I grabbed my
can of Raid Earth Options Roach Killer. Thus armed, I made my way to the fan and sprayed.
It was cockroach pandamonium, but most of the spray disbursed into the wind. Note to self:
Turn off the fan before spraying an aerasol can.
Stopping only to turn it off, I ran in pursuit. Water Beetles were covered
in spray, dropping in death throes. I went to the front door and sprayed all of those just
entering, stomping on a couple too. Then shutting the door, I walked around, killing
all the others that were to be found. And then it happened. With a sputter hardly worth
sputtering, the can of bug spray ran out!
The vast majority of the bugs had been sprayed; it was just a matter of time before
they died. They were all disappearing down cracks and crevices. I figured I was ok.
Later that night I went to bed. And woke up in the morning with an odd sensation on my back.
Under the stealth of night and darkness, some kind of bug had bitten me. You probably
don't realize what an oddity this was. I don't get bitten by bugs. Ever. Not even mosquitos. My theory
is that I take a lot of drugs that alter my body chemistry and they are either not
attracted to me in the first place, or if they are, I don't taste good. So the fact
that I was bit on this night, of all nights, has left me with a cold pit in my stomach.
Could it be that the Japanese Water Beetles bit me? If yes, was it coincidence, or
do they have enough intelligence to be angry that I killed so many of them all at once?
And exact retribution?
I don't know. I haven't been bit since Friday night, but it's really hard
now, to turn off the lights and go to sleep.
So Long, Old Friend
7/29/07
I've been despairing that I would never be rid of my old refrigerator. It worked; I
just couldn't see throwing it out! But I posted again on Freecycle, and with no response.
I even built a web link just in honor of the refrigerator.
Giving it a name and imploring that it needed a new home. No response.
I made a post to my spinning guild's yahoo list. Nobody wanted it, but Kathy H. suggested
that I post it on Craig's List. Having never used it before, I was a bit suspicious, but
what the hell? I made a post. Within 5 minutes, I had five offers to take it.
"Steve" just picked it up. He has a business having something to do with Bee Pollen;
he will use it for that business. He was a very nice man and he arrived very promptly.
Thank you Steve!
I locked the dogs behind the puppy barrier for his visit. They were not in favor of it
but although Cosmos was quite vocal about his disapproval, Sunny felt it worth only one
bark. And a half-hearted bark at that. He's clearly hurting a little today, but that's
his own fault for refusing to take the pain pill I tried to give him this morning.
So now, it's on to the next step. Contracting a handyman to increase the size of
the hole and getting the new refrigerator settled into it's space.
It's weird. I know it's only a machine and I certainly didn't want the small refrigerator
here any more. But at the same time, I feel a little sad about it's leaving. That was
the refrigerator of my first apartment. With it left the last material item of substance
from my youth. I certainly have no problem wtih being 50 and wouldn't go back, even if
I could retain the knowledge that I have now. But I feel like an era has officially passed.
* * * * *
Eric and I went to an Indian Pow Wow today. Held at the Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum,
men and women of native heritage came in costume to sell their wares and demonstrate
dance.
Native Americans who are obese should not dress as naked as the Indian in the Village People.
No, I did not take a photograph to share. But the picture is indelibly burned into my mind.
Village People - Y.M.C.A.
The First Bark, and Other Topics of Interest...
7/28/07
Today was my Spinning Guild Meeting. The Greater Los
Angeles Spinning Guild (GLASG) meets the fourth Saturday of each month in Saint Andrews Lutheran Church
in West Los Angeles, a gorgeous facility with a lovely staff. In fact, Joshua, their
new pastor, came to visit and greet us today and ended up spinning too!
I love our members... they are creative and passionate,
and it's all about what we do and create, not about appearances. I loved them when I weighed 358 pounds
because they didn't care. I love them just as much now, or maybe even more because
when other circles of friends had a hard time with my changing body and attitude, the
stellar people at GLASG did not miss a beat. Those that liked me then still like me.
(Well, for the most part anyway.) Those who didn't still don't. Because their like
and dislike was not on a superficial level.
I got to use the "Fart Machine 2" while I was there. I used it on a woman who used
to be my "friend," but I don't suppose she thinks much of me anymore. (Her opinion
hardened well before the Fart Machine.) She did not respond
in a positive manner.
I used it on Dave Larson, but he was busy demonstrating how to
use his new gigantic drum carder, electrified, so he didn't even notice.
I do
have hope though, as Ruth Schooley was taping him when I pushed the button
so she could post the demo on YouTube. Yes, she knew what I was up to and she
assured me that her camera had sound!
I also used it
on Randall Hayden. Randall is truly a rennisance
man; I don't think there's any subject that he doesn't know about. And his knowledge isn't
bluff and bluster, either. He really does know. Randall sells
wonderful Navajo Looms and teaches weaving.
Anyway, he was sitting right next to me,
and the result of the sound was entirely satisfying.
He knew, of course, what it was and who was pushing the button. I set it off just after
our "formal" meeting started. He smiled at me, giggled a little, and kept on spinning.
I adore Randall.
* * * * *
The refrigerator saga continues, although not at the same intensity as when I had
only 1 1/2 refrigerators. The new one works beautifully since repair, and I've moved all of my food
over. My condo has lost that refrigerator that's not working smell.
I've even almost completely scrubbed out the old one; it will be ready for a new
home shortly. But what of a new home?????
When I listed it as available on Freecycle, I only
received one response, and then I had to delay the gift because the new 'fridge didn't
work. On Thursday evening, when it was clear that the new one was now fine, I contacted
K- and offered it to him again. He said he would get back to me on Friday, but didn't.
So I suppose he doesn't want it and I will proceed accordingly. But how to proceed?
I am thinking about posting signs in my condo complex, but it's unlikely that anyone
will respond in a positive manner. After all, grown ups live here. And whether they
own or rent their unit, they are likely somewhat affluent. This place, even as a starter
complex, isn't cheap.
I could also go up and down my street, sneak into different apartment complexs, and post signs
there. After all, there are quite a few buildings here that have singles and
junior one bedrooms. That is exactly what this size refrigerator is meant for. But I want
this taken care of quickly.
I may call the Jewish Charity out here that sets up living accomodations for new
Russian Immigrants. I know that Goodwill will not take it, but maybe they will.
Or I can just have it put in the alley behind my complex with a sign that says "I
work, take me."
I don't know... I'm not going to miss the refrigerator, but it's served me well, still
works, and is now clean. I hate to just trash it. Not when I know for sure that somebody
out there could use it.
* * * * *
The dogs are recovering from their surgeries.
Cosmos had a traumatic evening when he realized that our refrigerator - the old one -
didn't have any food in it. I was scrubbing it out when he noticed; his reaction
was to stick his head completely inside, then turn to me with a look of disbelief on
his face. When I finally closed the door, he ran in little aggitated circles
in front. Where did our food go? This was just unacceptable!
I tried to get him to look inside of the new box. He wouldn't go near it. Sunny,
on the other hand, was willing to view it. But only from a distance of about two feet.
He finally took the couple of steps forward necessary to give it a sniff. And then
quickly backed off again. This was not the way that Sunny was used to, either.
Then it happened. Some kids walked by, and he was so focused on the refrigerator
that he forgot himself. Sunny barked. Several times! I think it may not have hurt
him as much as before, because he almost danced with glee after the final issue. Of course, he
did not try to jump up and look from where the noise came. But from his point of view,
the circumstances of life have vastly improved.
Update
7/27/07
Yesterday, I took both of my dogs to the vet for surgery.
I'm happy to report that they are both home and doing well. Sunny is oddly silent;
his surgery was on his tummy and I suspect it may hurt to bark. They're both still
on pain medication so they are doing nothing but sleeping. "What's the difference
between that and normal?" you ask. Not a whole lot.
After dropping of the dogs, I returned back to my condo.
It was odd to be there by myself, but it wasn't long after I arrived that my
refrigerator repair man "Andy" turned up. He repaired my new 'fridge post haste and I'm happy to
report that it's working beautifully. Surprisingly, it turned out to be a very
expensive machine. Worth close to $2000. Again, I wonder at the old owners who
had put it on the curbside for trash pick-up. I guess money doesn't mean
much to some people...
After my boys came home and I settled them in, I worked on my jewelry until it was
time to go to exercise class.
I completed the piece that I started yesterday just a little while ago, then took a
shower in anticipation of Eric coming for dinner around 5. But imagine my horror
when I realized that I did not have one clean bra on hand. So I quickly hand washed
a couple of them, hung one in the bathtub to drip dry, and then used my trusty
speed-dry method to make the other almost immediately wearable.
The fan. It works every time.
Progress...
7/25/07
I just re-read my posts for the last week and realize that I have not updated you on
the refrigerator fiasco. When I last posted on this saga, I had two refrigerators. I'm
sad to say that I still do. Or, ahem, should I say one and a half.
After the delivery men left, I was very excited. I called the tile people to have
my counter fixed. And I plugged in the new refrigerator. It hummed almost immediately,
a sound that was my song. Or so I thought. The motor has run continuously
since that day, but it hasn't cooled down much. Uh oh. So now what?
I talked to Eric about it. The "owners" had insisted it ran. They were actually
planning to leave it for him. It's fairly new, and it's an Amana. A good name in
the appliance business. So we both figured that it would be well worth my while
to at least get an estimate to repair it. I checked the Amana web site and found
a company locally who I contacted on Monday. They promised to call me back "between
3:30 and 5 pm" to set up an appointment. $59 estimate fee which they would
apply to the repair. Did they call? No.
I checked the internet; there are quite a few suggestions on how to
fix a
refrigerator by yourself; most of them look fairly easy, but I'm not strong enough
to remove the screws from the part that I think needs to be cleaned out, so that
was a no-go.
Well, since I have another refrigerator, I wasn't in a rush. But by this morning,
my condo was starting to take on the slightly pungent scent of turned off refrigerator.
So I called "my" repair company back. The woman - the same one that I talked to before - actually
got very annoyed with me. "I was going to call you soon." she said. But refused to
set up an appointment even then. "I need to know what other appointments I have tomorrow
and I'll call you between 3:30 and 5 pm."
Well, I've heard that tune before, so after I hung up with her, I called another company
who will be here tomorrow morning between 10 am and noon. They made an appointment
on the spot. And the cost? $59 estimate fee which they will apply to the repair.
In the meantime, I have not heard back from the tile guy. That's ok by me; if the
refrigerator cannot be repaired for a reasonable amount of money, I will cut my losses
and keep the old one. How I will get a refrigerator that big to the trash is beyond me,
but I'm hoping it won't come to that. But until I know, I'd rather not have the expense
of reworking a tile kitchen counter. I've learned my lesson from the refrigerator repair
people, though. I will call somebody else when I know; somebody who is interested in actually
doing the tile work and will call back.
I also heard from my ex air conditioning company - Air King, aka
On Time Heating & Air yesterday. I had a long and happy relationship with them until last fall.
Between me and my parents, we had availed ourselves of their services for some 30 years.
They had replaced my parents unit; they replaced mine 18 months ago. I had had a service
contract with them for years and years. But they blew it.
It wasn't because they just lost my dog-walking keys, which actually was pretty
traumatic because I had a key on that chain that operates the back gate into the alley
and it's the only key for that lock I had. It wasn't even that the service guy
gave me a long song-and-dance about a $4000 upgrade that I "definetely needed"
to do to my conditioner with no explaination, and then when I asked him to send
literature, he never followed through. But he not only lost my keys and failed
to follow through about the literature, but he also lied to me
about it. Then, when I called their supervisor over and over and over again, but got no return
call, I canceled the contract which I had just renewed for about $200.
Anyway, "Sharon" from Air King/On Time called yesterday (she left a message on
my phone machine last week too), letting me know that it was time
for me to have my air unit serviced and could they renew my contract and send somebody
out? "Don't you have records?" I asked. "I cancelled my contract with you last fall..."
and I explained the situation to her. She asked me if there was anything they could do
to get my business back; I replied "I don't know but try me," and she said that she would have her Customer Service
Manager call me back in 15 minutes. Of course, I never heard from anyone.
So I am here, a little bit frustrated although I am still hopeful that things will
work out. I actually have the name of another air conditioning company that received
glowing reports from my neighbors "The Sky" and his wife, Josie. Since Air King was
so kind as to let me know that it's time I had my unit serviced and then not call me back - again,
I'll give the other people a call.
Tomorrow, I'll know what's up with my "new" refrigerator. And will be able to move
forward from there. It's also the big day for my dogs. They, too, will be getting
"repaired"."
And between the activity of having both of my dogs operated on, getting my refrigerator repaired,
delivering a consigned piece of jewelry to the woman who ordered - and hopefully will like - it,
and attending exercise class at Slimmons,
I will start another necklace. Because I'm about two necklaces short of making my first
contact with a designated retailer. (I won't name names but they're located in the heart
of the Beverly Hills Triangle. And yes, I know exactly what each piece-to-be-made will look like.) As much as I feel like the proverbial hamster on a
wheel, i.e. the more I run, the more nowhere I get, the truth is that I'm making
progress. I'm sure of it.
* * * * *
Ian had quite a bit to say about his San Diego weekend tonight. It was his first trip away from home. We talked for almost 45 minutes; no small feat for a 7-year-old boy. Conversation does not come easily for him.
I was curious about what he thought of "Motel 6." He had taken the Internet video tour before going and was really excited about it having 19" TV. He didn't quite understand what 19" meant. "Maybe it's a Plasma!" he had suggested to me during that dialogue.
I didn't have to wait more than 15 seconds into tonight's conversation to find out.
"Aunt Laura, do you know what they have at Motel 6?" he asked.
"What?" I answered, fully expecting to hear about the television.
"A view of the 5 freeway. How cool is that?!?!?!"
Ian is not hard to please.
Dog Day Afternoon
7/24/07
It's a safe bet that 100% of the dogs surveyed really enjoy car rides. Never mind
that the end destination, this afternoon, was the vet.
Sunny beams at the idea of going out.
Cosmos can't even stand still!
Both dogs are getting old, but it was a surprise to see Sunny have a little trouble
jumping into the back seat of our car. But don't worry; nothing was going to keep him out.
Cosmos required physical help, but he has always struggled more, given his broken hip that never quite healed.
He does enjoy a car ride, though, and settles down into his place.
Surprisingly, initially, Sunny settled quietly in the back. That didn't last long, though.
Cosmos really enjoys that hole in our dashboard that blows cold air on him.
Sunny, back to his old self, takes up his position in the car. That would be
with his front feet on the console between the front seats. It is mandatory, according
to Sunny, to obscure about 90% of the drivers vision during the trip.
Cosmos takes in the view. The building in the far background was where my
father's medical practice was.
Cosmos is very nervous about the examination.
So is Sunny, and for good reason. Both dogs require some small surgery; both
dogs will be getting this Thursday.
I was quite upset by the result of the visit. No, not about the surgeries - which
are very small, but about the fact that they could not pull urine from either of my
uncooperative dogs. They sent me home with specimen cups, and actually expect me
to collect it. Yeah, right. Do they not know which dogs they are dealing with?
Motivate Me
7/23/07
Richard Simmons hosts a weekly chat every Monday
in his internet Clubhouse, www.richardsimmons.com. I always attend; even when the subject is not pertinent to
my needs. When I am bored, I may sit at the computer for a while, get up
and do other things, and then come back. But I know that this chat helps keep
me focused on the big picture, no matter what the subject. Tonight, however,
was not one of those evenings where I got distracted.
The subject? "What's On Your Mind." And we talked about, amongst other things, motivation.
So I am the queen of motivation, right? So you would think from my weight loss story.
But truth be told, I cannot think of a single moment during my journey where I felt motivated.
At least in the classical sense. I never had that rah-rah-I'm-gonna-do-it feeling. In fact,
I have always been aware of the futility at even attempting to lose weight. I rarely made an effort,
and when I did, it was knowing full-well in advance that I was going to fail. Setting myself up to fail. By
eating too few calories within a group of unrealistically restricted foods. By, when I ate contraband,
figuring that one breach of ettiquete made the entire process a failure, a built-in
excuse to abandon the effort..
So what made this time so different? How do I define motivation? I picked the
stream of thought up with Eric over Ramen dinner.
We agreed that it certainly isn't a charged up feeling. That can't be sustained for long. Certainly
not long enough to lose the 200+ pounds that I've shed. That feeling could be better defined as enthusiasm.
I'm still mulling it over, but
I think that motivation might be more of a quiet desperation that forces a life change; I knew that I couldn't live much
longer going down the path that I was traveling on. Figuratively. Literally. And in between too.
When I found Richard in 2003, it was quite by mistake. I certainly didn't intend
to associate myself with him. In fact, I kept it quite the secret for over a year. At
the time, I thought I was just embarassed amongst my peers to be associated with the sparkly tanks
and the persona. But now I realize that it wasn't that at all. It was more like I
knew, once again, that the attempt to exercise and even worse, lose weight, was going
to be a failure. I didn't want them to know because I didn't want them to know when I
wasn't capable.
Now, I'm very proud to know him. And to know that he knows me. Because there
is a depth to the man that does not come across on television. And he, along with
my therapist, saved my life.
Later this evening, after Eric went home, I thought some more about the whole topic.
And re-entered the chat room where I found a number of Richard's webbies; none of who
have reached goal yet. The conversation was rather heavy because I spurred it in that
direction. Re-hashed some of what I had been considering. And the difference in me between
now and 200 pounds ago. It comes down to the following:
1. I used to be unwilling to acknowledge my faults and issues because I was
convinced that mine were worse than anyone elses around me. Now I don't magnify my percieved faults; understanding that
I am neither better or worse than the next person. I'm just different.
2. Because I was so afraid of being found out for my faults, I would isolate
myself. I had no friends, not because they were not there, but because I would not
acknowledge them.
3. I equated accepting help and support with being unacceptably weak. I could not
understand that nobody does anything in a vaccum. That everyone helps and is helped by everyone else and that's
how we all get by.
4. I was angry because I was the different one. I didn't understand that being
different, rather than a flaw, was something that I should embrace.
A couple of months ago, I attended Richard's "Lighten Up" radio show on Sirius. The
second hour was about people who dealt with medical issues. I lost it. Fell apart because
the women who called in seemed so happy to have medical issues; happy not to be helping
themselves; happy to almost brag about all the medications they take. This was only
a few weeks since I had been taken out of Slimmons by paramedic and had not been released
to exercise. (Technically, I'm still not released, but it's a don't-ask-don't-tell scenario.)
"Why was I crying?" Richard asked. "Because these people were squandering the opportunity
they had in being physically able to affect change in their lives while I was truly a
victim - at the time - of my body." It was so hard to listen to.
After the show, a couple of the other gals there who are struggling with their weight,
came to talk to me. Not as concerned about how I was doing - although that's what they
professed and I truly believe that they believed it - as how I must see them. And
I realized, during that conversation, that I was the lucky one amongst us, even given
my struggles. Because I hadn't even given them a thought while I was talking to Richard... had not looked down upon
them or used them as a comparison. And I realized, I think for the final time, how
far I had come. That the comments that others might make, even when they seem directed right
at me, really aren't. Everything everyone says or does ultimately is really about themselves,
isn't it?
The way we relate to others is through sunglasses. Some people wear rose colored glasses.
And they are very popular. Others were dark gray ones. And are sad and depressed and can't
fully take advantage of opportunities that come their way. I am somewhere in between the two.
And working on it. Hard.
The Bling Report
7/22/07
Today was focused mostly on "building the business." I went to a bead show in
the Santa Monica Civic Center. There, I made some contacts and maybe even a friend. I
also found the following:
An interesting Asian Dealer who carried some very nice beads.
An extremely nice lady who not only had a plate of Hershey's Kisses at her booth, but
had lost 150 pounds, and sold me some pretty irridescent buttons which I will incorporate
into my jewelry.
Most important of all, I made contact with a Jewelry Display Vendor who sold me
a couple of cases in which to carry and display my jewelry when visiting retailers.
Eric, Gabby, & Miles were on this trip with me. After we shopped, we all went to
Buca de Beppo restaurant. Not low calorie fare, but they have a table
physically located in the middle of the kitchen that we requested and got to sit at. It was really fun!
We also made a stop at Home Depot on the way home in search of an automatic door closer that
will work on a sliding glass door. We did not find it, but it seems like it should exist.
If anyone knows where one can be obtained, I'd appreciate it if you'd Contact Me with
that information.
When I got home, I partially undid (made a big mistake which had to be fixed), and
then completed a bracelet. "Irridescent Silver."
I now have almost everything I need to go out and sell my product. The only thing
I am missing is a backbone. Has anyone got one to spare?
Chillin' Out
7/21/07
Well, sort of...
The best laid plans can go awry. And this refrigerator scheme of mine was not as
well thought out as most. But let me tell you right here and now that I really believe
that everything's going to be ok. EGBOK, as they used to say many years ago on Ken & Bob
at KABC Talk Radio. I really have a feeling that it will be fine in the end.
We left this saga yesterday as I was agonizing about whether the new refrigerator would
fit in it's slot or not. I was also worried about the moving company I'd contracted;
"Low Cost Movers" from the Tarzana Pennysaver. They were wonderful. They called me
during the middle of exercise class; I whipped out my "Bra Phone" to talk to them. (Yes,
when I don't have pockets, I put my cell phone in my bra. It's big enough for me, a cell phone,
and a picnic for a family of four.) They were running right on time and would see me at
1:15 this afternoon.
Exactly at 1:15, they called. They were in front of my complex, the refrigerator already
removed from their truck. I let them in; they found my unit without a hassle. But then
when they tried to get the 'fridge through my patio gate, the first inkling of what was
about to happen occured. It wouldn't fit through! They quickly solved that dilema, though,
by simply popping off the handles.
I had locked my boys behind the puppy barrier. Let's just say that they were not happy.
It's really offensive to dogs to have strange men walking into their
home with a large white box while locked up, unable to defend their territory and/or generally be a
nuisance. They survived, but they were not happy.
We moved my small refrigerator to it's temporary home in the living room.
They took
the new one off of it's trolley and tried to slide it into place. Oy! No go.
We were only about 1/2 inch shy and they thought if I allowed them to take the moulding
off of the floor, it would probably make it, so I allowed them to. Oy! No go.
We discussed them taking the tile overhang off of my kitchen counter, but I didn't like
the way they were talking about going about it; basically rough-sawing it and leaving it
like that. "Nobody will see." they advised me. Oy! No go. I own this place and am
not going to destroy it like that.
Did I mention that they accidentally knocked off a couple of tiles from the counter during this process? Oy!
So I paid them - they did an exemplary job moving me - and I am left seething in
refrigerators!
I called a tile company... "No job to small" was their motto. They also advertised
that they were inexpensive. Yes, they will be happy to help, but not today. Obviously.
But they promised to call me on Monday Evening and let me know when they could come around.
"This happens more often than you would believe," they confided in me. Yeah, probably true.
So now I have an excess of refrigeration in my unit. I figure that I will be properly
installed sometime next week, so I went ahead and started cleaning out the unit.
It's
not really all that bad, but there's something about cleaning up somebody else's grime
that's disgusting. Just that I don't know who they were and why they were so stupid as
to give up a beautiful refrigerator. There's egg gunk stuck onto the door... that's proving
a little harder to deal with than the rest.
And that's why I am posting so early
in the day. I needed a break!
So at least my standard moan about not having enough refrigerator space is quelled
for the moment. I have an excess!
Odds 'n' Ends
7/20/07
It was a rather quiet day. Aside from a couple of hysterical (bad hysterical, not good)
phone calls that I received. And a few other calls that were enjoyable.
I finished up a necklace that matches the bracelet that will be part of my presentation
in a week or two when I get in to seeing some retailers. I would have liked to make
introduction this week, but it was not to be. I also got a good start on a bracelet
that was ordered yesterday.
Medical emergencies of those who are
close to me (yes, more than one person) were predominant in my life. Amazingly, they
were other people's issues rather than mine. Although I can feel my health slipping
bit by bit, the progression is very slow and could reverse itself when I finally get
started on the Humira that my doctor (and his office) worked so hard to get my
insurance to cover. I've had it on hand for six days now, but I'm well known for
bad reactions to medications and I was needed to help "x" and "y." I'm thinking
that I'll start it on Monday. It looks like it may be another one of my rare low-key days, and if anything happens,
my doctor(s) will be in their office(s).
In the meantime, I've had another successful venture (I hope) in collecting somebody
else's trash as my treasure. I have a small 14 Cubic Foot refrigerator in my condo;
I've owned it for some 25 plus years from a time when I lived in a very small apartment.
Since taking up healthy eating, it's been challenging to fit all the fruits and vegetables
I consume inside of it, but I just couldn't justify buying a new one while it still
worked.
So I've moaned and complained to everyone around me about it. And lately,
I've been scrimping and saving a little bit of money with each disability check
with a big future purchase in mind. But then, here comes Eric - as usual - as a Knight
in Shining Armour.
Eric - and family - have just moved out of their apartment into a house. It's a lovely
place to live; I saw the inside for the first time yesterday. And in that house
was left a giant Amana side-by-side refrigerator. A late model refrigerator. One that
works. Eric moved in with his own refrigerator and had no use for it. And he's been listening
to me bitch about mine for months. So after talking to the owners, he suggested that i
take it. The idea of which, of course, I shot down. I couldn't imagine that they
wouldn't want to take it or sell it or whatnot. It wasn't what I envisioned... I
always wanted a grown-up 'fridge, but a normal up and down one. And I turned him down
flat.
Yesterday, I saw the refrigerator for the first time. It was inside of his garage,
and it was beautiful. But I still didn't dare even consider it. It was clearly a
good one. If I took it, it would be theft. But I didn't say that to Eric. Just told
him that it wasn't what I wanted.
But when we got back home from our day-trip, there was the refrigerator, just sitting
there, all lonely and sad on the curb waiting for large-trash pick up!!!!! I couldn't believe it. Why on earth
would somebody be so wasteful as to throw something that beautiful out? Don't they
know the value of it???? And if they didn't want to be bothered selling it, they
could donate it somewhere. There are a lot of needy people in the world!
Well, I haven't gone trash pickin' in quite a number of years, but the old homing
instinct came right back to me. Eric suggested we take another look. I agreed.
It was dirty on the inside and needs a very small repair to the ice maker (missing
the catch-tray), but other than that, it's in perfect condition. And so it came that
we wheeled it back into his garage and I've arranged to have it moved to my place tomorrow!
Now I can't say that I am not nervous about it. I am, and for good reason. First,
and foremost, there's the size. According to Amana's web site, it's 35 5/8" wide. I knew
it was going to be close, so I pulled my refrigerator out from it's home and measured
the space. 35 3/4". Oy. Close!
And then, of course, there was cleaning out underneath the current refrigerator;
a task that hasn't happened since 1995 when I moved home after rebuilding from the '94
Northridge earthquake. It was disgusting down there!
Although I have to admit that
there were nowhere nearly the amount of household items fallen behind and underneath
than I thought there would be. So I've mopped and cleaned around where the new fridge
is set to go, arranged for a mover, and am ready. Sort of.
Except there's still the issue of what to do with the old refrigerator, assuming
that the new one fits. I've posted it on Freecycle and have already received one
response to my ad. All I need is one. Since "Kurt" was the quickest, assuming that
it's really up for grabs and that he can claim it in a reasonable amount of time, it
will be his. But what amount of time is "reasonable?" My plan is to just move the
old fridge to the other side of the wall bordering the kitchen until I clean out
the new one and install the food in it, but then I want it out of here! I don't
need the clutter, and I certainly don't want to pay for the electricity for two.
And what about cleaning it out? How clean am I obligated to make it before giving
it away? Questions, and no answers.
And if the new refrigerator does not fit, do I contact the people who wanted the
small refrigerator and tell them that it's no longer available but if they want the
big one... ? Or do I keep it and sell it? The quandry. I sure hope it just fits
in it's designated slot.
So I sit here musing about tomorrow, realizing that my stress is once again, the
"good" kind of stress, but don't know how I'm going to sleep. I guess it's medicated
slumber for me again. I can live with that. And at least I've posted two days
in a row now so you all know that I am fine.
Black and White and Read All Over
7/19/07
Oh my. The weirdest thing happened to me tonight. I went to Slimmons for exercise
class - as normal - and "L" was there from out of town. She came right over to me...
"I read your blog daily and you haven't posted in a week." she said. "I was worried
whether you're ok or not."
It took me a minute to digest this piece of news. "L" reads my blog daily? WHOA!
I know that my family and a few close friends check in because they e-mail me about
what I've written. Adele sent me a pretty amusing missive about beans in response
to my sudden realization that bean sprouts are beans! She was happy
to let me know that I've been unwittingly enjoying all sorts of other bean products over the years.
Bean sprouts, I believe, are actually
mung beans. If you've ever eaten those glass noodles in Chinese or
Thai restaurants, you've eaten beans. Ha! Ha!
Cellophane noodles (also known as bean threads, bean thread noodles, glass noodles), are a type of transparent Asian noodle made from mung bean starch, water, and sometimes also other ingredients such as potato starch and canna starch.
They are generally sold in dried form, boiled to reconstitute, then used in soups, stir fried dishes, or spring rolls. They are called "cellophane noodles" because of their resemblance to cellophane, a transparent material. When dried, the noodles are generally clear or a translucent light gray or brownish-gray color.
Cellophane noodles are generally round, and are available in various thicknesses. Wide, flat cellophane noodle sheets (which are approximately 1 cm wide, like fettuccine noodles), although less common, are also available. They have a springier, chewier texture than the thinner noodles.
Cellophane noodles should not be confused with rice vermicelli, which are made from rice and are white in color rather than clear.
But this is just proof that Adele is reading. We couldn't be closer; she complains - rightfully so - that I'm
always so busy that the only way that she can catch up with me is by reading my blog. She's family.
And I just kind of figured that she felt obligated to check in.
But others are reading what I write too?
Now, I'm not going to pretend that I am stupid. I check my web site statistics from time
to time and rejoice when the numbers increase and worry when they go down. I.e. the numbers
of people checking in. But checking the statistics is really different from actually hearing
from somebody who is reading. Someone who I like and respect and enjoy seeing, but who
is not obligated to review my musings. And she was worried (she knows my medical background which
isn't much of a secret) when I didn't write!
So now the weight of responsibility is upon me. I've felt the urge to write for many
years; long before I ever wrote and was published and certainly my own blog wasn't even a gleam in my eyes. I used to write some of the most
sought-after memos in the work place, not only because they were informative but also
because I made people laugh at the same time. So it leaves me to ask how often should
I be writing. I love it, but what happens when my life gets as busy as it has been
for the past week?
I suppose I need to put something brief down in words every day or two. Because I don't want you to worry.
Road Trip
Adele, Steve, & Ian are going to San Diego this weekend. I hope that they have
a good time. I hope that they enjoy Motel 6. I hear they have 19" TV there. Maybe it's
a Plasma.
See A Conversation with Ian
Jewelry Party
And finally, pictures from the Jewelry Party that Wendy so kindly threw for me
last weekend.
The Table. I made the jewelry and I also made the table cloth and the display cubes. My thank you to Adele for her help!
My favorite earrings.
European Glass w. Czech Glass Seed Beads, Gold Plated Sworvski Crystals, and Gold Filled Fittings.
The table, before the drinks were put out. Way before the squirrel decided that he liked cookies and everything had to be moved indoors!
I certainly felt like this after indulging in cookies and later that evening, Chinese food.
I don't write... I don't call...
7/17/07
I know. It's been a while. I'm sorry.
I've been really busy for the past week. I made a lot of jewelry for the Jewelry
Party that Wendy so kindly put on for me. I also made displays and even a table cloth
for it.It was Richard's birthday last week and there
was a big party for him. I finally made a fool-proof analytical spreadsheet to figure out
how much I should be charging for my jewelry and can pretty much even tell how much a
piece will be, now, before I even make it. And of course there was the actual Jewelry
Party (more on that another day). I dealt with emergent family issues (we won't
talk about it here). And there were the green beans...
I'm generally pretty open when it comes to trying out new foods, and also foods that
in days gone by (i.e. before weight loss), I didn't like. After all, Richard was right...
my tastes really have changed. I would define my obese years as eating only a very few
foods within "the box." My food groups were candy, grease, fats, breads, & pastas. Very few
vegetables and fruits. I was not open to food exploration, even though I would tell you,
and believe it as I said it, that I loved everything. But I didn't love it enough to
cook it at home, or order it in a restaurant. Can we all say french fries, cake, and
the more-than-occasional Egg McMuffin?
So fast-forward to present. I love all foods now. I keep a well stocked refrigerator
and try something new every week. I attend exercise classes at Slimmons. I think I must
get more exercise than I record at home too, or else my weight would be increasing. And
I attend Lucy's Weight Maintenance Class at HMR.
The class is very nutrition and health oriented. I used to think I knew about food before
I lost weight. I was wrong. Then after losing in excess of 200 pounds, I again thought
I knew about it. Wrong again. I've learned more about food and health and the interaction
between the two in the last nine months that I couldn't even begin to tell you! And Lucy
has encouraged me to try all sorts of new things. Most of which I liked.
Of course, then she asked me to try green beans. And I railed and resisted, but bought
some from my Farmers Market. And, knowing that they would stay in my refrigerator until
they became a science experiment if I didn't set a day and time to try them out, I planned
to eat them last Wednesday for dinner.
First, let me say that the experience did not kill me. Obviously. I'm here typing,
aren't I?
That being said, I gave them a fair try. I pulled them out of my refrigerator around
4:30 pm and put them on my cutting board. I chopped off the stringy ends and had to admit
that they looked kind of pretty laying there.
I was very nervous about eating them. After all, I had a lifelong hatred of legumes,
a tradition of hatred, so to speak. And, since I am without a doubt, a stress
eater, I grabbed one off of the cutting board and ate it raw. Without thinking before hand.
"Hmmmmmm," I thought. "This doesn't taste bad. Kind of fresh. Like bean sprouts."
Then I thought about it for a split second. "Bean Sprouts couldn't really be part of the bean family, could they?!?!"
I put that thought aside... I just couldn't consider that possibility... my entire world would be shattered.
And so I put the beans into Ricahrd's steamer.
I also put in broccoli and potatoes, for when I didn't like the beans. And I set the timer
and steamed the poison.
The beans didn't look that bad, but still looked like beans. So I closed my eyes and,
as promised, pierced one with a fork right out of the steamer, lifted that fork to my lips,
opened up my clenched teeth, and allowed a bite of that green bean to pass between and touch
my tongue. And I chewed it and swallowed. And it didn't kill me. And it didn't taste all that
bad either!
Now, keep in mind that I did not say that it tasted great. But it wasn't bad. And so
I thought that maybe it needed a little sauce or dressing to take away that bean after-taste. Fortunately,
I had something on hand that fit the bill. Paula's Honey Mustard Seed dressing. I put a little
on top of those beans and they actually tasted pretty ok.
Now I don't claim to be completely swayed in my opinion about beans. I will not
try a pinto bean or black bean or anything along that line. But I do plan to buy some
more green beans from my farmers market and try them again. Because I have a feeling
that, with the right recipe, they might actually taste good.
They were interesting. Not really beans at all. Because everyone knows I hate beans.
Spilling the Beans
7/9/07
There is something looming in my home; in my future. It is something terrible. Beyond
all thought and consideration. Horrifying; beyond my wildest dreams. It is not of
my imagination; in fact, it is a "they" and they are in my refrigerator
as I type.
They are contained within a ziplock bag, but their presence permiates everything;
overwhelming my senses.
What is this horrible thing that has made entering my kitchen an abomination, you ask?
Beans.
I hate legumes. I hate them with a passsion so deep seated that, when I am willing
to sample almost any other kind of food since my weight-loss, I have never even considered giving them
a try. Don't bother telling me that Peanuts are legumes. I won't believe you. Nor do
I consider Edamame, a Japanese delight, a bean. Black bean sauce? Just a name; nothing
to do with legumes. Don't bother me with the facts. I like my world ordered the way it has been since I could remember.
So you are probably wondering how I ended up with the stupidest vegetable ever in existance
residing in my refrigerator. I will tell you.
It actually started about six or eight weeks ago. Lucy at HMR was lecturing my Weight
Maintenance / Nutrition class about the benefits of Omega 3. "Cold Water Fish" are great
sources for it, she confided to us. She enjoyed eating Sardines on crackers. And so I listened,
and so I learned.
I had never eaten sardines. I didn't like them, for sure, but I had never tried them. So
over the course of three weeks (the Omega 3 unit lasted for - I think - four), I decided
to give them a try. I was disappointed that the can did not come with a key, but the way
Lucy described them, they seemed really convenient and worth consideration. I did not like
the Mustard version, nor the Tomato Sauce ones. But the normal every-day Sardines packed in
water, not oil, turned out to be right up my alley. Kind of oily, kind of bland. Like
Jewish Food. Deeply ingrained in my heritage. Familiar. And so I made the mistake of telling
her - and my class - that I had tried them and I liked them.
I don't think Lucy liked me when I first joined the group. I wasn't sure about her either...
she's WAY smart and kind of scarey. But over time, I grew to not only to really really like her, but to respect her too.
I think I've startled her with my candor about my issues more than once.
"Why do I keep food
journals?" she asked one day. "Because I am a liar and they keep me honest" was my response.
I don't think she was expecting that answer but she liked it. She also liked that I didn't
just buy the Diet-Coke-cooking-meat-and-that's-why-we-shouldn't-drink-it explaination and
even though I don't either drink diet coke and don't eat beef, I stopped at the market on
the way home from class, bought both, and tested out the theory. It was true and I reported
as such to her.
I've come to depend on Lucy and those classes over time and have discovered that although I thought
I knew about food after losing 210 pounds, I really didn't know anything. And the
classes have become a mainstay of my maintenance program. But I digress.
We started a unit on fiber a few weeks ago. We have discussed great fiber sources
and have been given class assignments to try different high-fiber foods. This week,
the assignment was beans. BEANS! I wasn't going to go along with it, but Lucy trapped
me after class and pressured me into buying them at the Farmers Market. She is a much
stronger personality than I, and I succumbed. Once the promise was made, I couldn't break
it, and so I bought beans from my favorite Asian-produce stand yesterday.
So now they are in my home. And I am required, once a week, to check in with Lucy. Altough
she asks that we do so on Fridays by phone, I usually do it by e-mail (it's easier to talk about
any issues I have that way and also more convenient) and this week, I sent it on Sunday
after the dirty deed was done.
Ok Lucy,
As promised, I bought beans ("gween beans," per my Asian-booth proprietor) this morning. I don't know exactly when I am going to try them yet, but they are in a zip lock baggie polluting my refrigerator as I type this. I'm going to need to cook and eat them just to get them out of my home.
I will try to keep an open mind and provide an update when I get the nerve to do something with them. Remember, it took three weeks for the Sardine trial. Probably won't take as long with these... if I wait three weeks, they will look like some of the other science experiments I've conducted in my 'fridge. I know, without a doubt, that I will like moldy green beans even less than I will enjoy the fresh ones.
Laura
In the meantime, I also e-mailed Richard in a panic.
Hi Richard:
I promised Lucy, my Nutrition Class Teacher, that I would try beans this week. I know, without a doubt, that I do not like beans, but a promise is a promise, and so I now have stupid green beans from my Farmers Market in my refrigerator.
Can you help me with what to do with the damned things? Do I steam them? Or saute them? And then do I eat them plain or drown them in some kind of sauce?
Seriously, my hatred of all legumes runs so deep and far back in my memory that I don't have a clue how to cook them. HELP!
Love,
Laura
I heard back from Richard first. He was direct and to the point. "Steam them, darling!" was his response. Oy!
I have to ruin his good steamer with this kind of poison? But I also heard the same advice from
other friends and family who's attitude towards beans are not as hard-set as mine. And so that will
be the cooking mode of choice. But I am not quite ready to make and sample them yet.
I later heard back from Lucy. "I'm so proud of you for going for it Laura, it's all trial and error.
Lucy"
Lucy, this is no trial. It's, I think, one of the biggest errors I have ever made. I promised I would try them, and so
I will, and with as open a mind as I possibly can keep, but I know what green beans
remind me of. Big green worms with rigor mortis. Is making me eat beans punishment for
not using the HMR shake meal replacements? Or could this just be cosmic justice for all
the grief I have given Richard over the years? And what if the worst happens... I end
up liking them? I will need to be in therapy for another 20 years! And I'll probably
have to stop blaming my mother for all of my problems too.
All I can say, though, is beans are where I draw the line.
Never ever, I warn you now, suggest that I come within 20 feet of a banana.
I don't know when the banana unit is coming, but I'm sure it is.
Just the smell of a banana is enough to send me into a head-spin, but also my
opinion of them is also so hardened by the "N" incident last winter that
my absolute hatred of them is sealed forever. Never EVER will a banana even
enter my home again (not even for company), let alone my body. Yes, that is a warning. I will try a bean
for you, but I will not try the other "b."
What Ifs...
7/8/07
This whole jewelry thing is coming on faster and more furious than I had ever
imagined it could. I was speaking to Richard (Simmons) about it last week and confessed
to him how scarey this whole thing is. "Are you afraid of failing?" he asked.
"No," I replied, "I'm afraid of success."
I've had a lot of very good starts in my career(s). But my health has always gotten
in the way. When I wasn't suddenly dropping off of the scene, extremely ill and sometimes
near death, my moods were erratic, fueled by rampant disease and steroids. That I've
never actually been "fired" from a job is a testament to the quality of work I used to
do because I was certainly not easy to live with when I was on the work scene, and
was not reliable due to issues of health.
Which leads me to my current situation. I've been on disability for four and a half
years now. I despair that I will never be able to hold down a regular job. My health is
erratic at best. At one moment, I feel absolutely great. At the next, I'm passing out
unconscious with little warning, stuck in the bathroom with an attack, feeling weak and irritable and
erratically emotional. But I absolutely hate my current situation! I don't want to
live off of the system (or varied relatives as financial crisises come up due to
health emergencies). I want to be self supporting.
And so I discovered that I can make jewelry from beads. Not just ordinary jewelry, either. From all accounts and
responses, extrordinary pieces. And it keeps on spewing out of me, more rapidly than
I would have imagined. Ideas come to me, not in pieces, but whole. Now I know what Sandy
used to try to explain to me as she worked on her major pieces of art. I am no artist
of her calibur; I am a craftsman. But on a PBS special a month-or-so ago, one of the
craftspeople on the show described the difference between art and craft as the functionality
of the finished piece. And that person was right.
And any rate, back to my current situation. Today I started cutting up pieces of
foam core and assembling them into a display that will be used at the Jewelry Party
that Wendy is hosting for me next weekend.
No, I've never made a display before and did not rely on any instructions. The process
just came to me as a whole this morning.
Then, Eric - who is so incrediby supportive of everything I do that I don't know how
I deserve our relationship - accompanied me on a number of errands that had to be very
boring for him, including to International Silks and Woolens
where I
bought satin as a table cover for the party.
I had no idea what I was doing as I chose fabrics, but came up with a color scheme
that will not only work as a table cloth, but also for covering those foam core
cubes in a striking pattern. I will photograph them and post the pic as soon as
I get them done. I know that this idea is going to work. I don't know how I know,
but I do.
And then there is the matter of earrings. Adele has been bugging me for a week,
trying to convince me that I needed to add them to my line. She was not the first to
make this suggestion, but her arguments were the most compelling. So all the while I
was arguing with her, the idea of how to make them was percolating in the back
of my mind. The how came to me last night and I now have come up with a
process by which I can make them.
And they don't look like the other beaded earrings on the market.
Which again brings me back to my present quandry. I'm sick of living the way I do;
hand-to-mouth and intellectually/emotinally unfufilled. But I don't know that I am
reliable enough to follow this venture through to the fullest. Eric promises me - as
does Richard - that if I make it, the buyers will come. But the question is do
I have the sustained energy to make it in enough quantity to interest anyone? I can
feel another Crohns Disease flare coming on. I can feel that undercurrent of weakness
(as well as other symptoms that are graphic enough that I will spare my readers
and not post them here) that signals impending doom. The last time I felt this was last summer when I - again -
had a flare of such magnitude that I thought I was going to die. Dare I take this project on right now?
In the face of that?
I'm also playing with fire. If this idea works and I generate any kind of real
income, I will certainly lose my disabled status. When I don't believe, from both
past experience and current portends of doom, that I will stay "healthy" for much
longer, can I really risk my health insurance? That's what I'm really afraid of losing
if I am no longer on disability. I would be dead - literally - already had it not been
for fantastic medical coverage. And my fight is nowhere near over.
But like I said to Richard, it's like this thing has taken on a life of it's own.
I am helpless in it's path to stop it. And so, as ideas keep coming to me as a whole,
as I described to Adele as "spewing out of me like vomit. Like a Crohns attack without
the nausea and diarreah and blood," I continue on. Risking it all. The "American Nightmare" at it's finest.
Pride in my Work
7/6/07
There's a special feeling that goes along with working really hard on something and
seeing the fruits of your labor. That's how I feel today.
Seven weeks ago, I didn't know the first thing about writing code to build
a web site. 13 weeks ago, I did not know how to make jewelry. 10 weeks ago,
I was being taken by Paramedic to the hospital. And yet, I perservered. And
I'm proud.
Today, I put Sandy's photographic advice to work and spent a couple of
hot and sweaty hours in the sun, taking pictures of my jewelry. I started at
around 10:30 am. By the time I finished with the day's effort, it was about
1 pm, and the temperature had soared to over 100 degrees.
The sweat was pouring off of me. When I entered my condo, I gulped down a couple of glasses
of ice water, made and ate a sandwich (Turkey on Rosemary Bread with Tomato,
Onion, & Sprouts), then immediately went to work downloading the pictures onto my computer.
Then came the hardest part of all. Deciding which pictures were worth publishing
to my jewelry web site, and which should be discarded.
I am not a photographer. I am not even photographically inclined. I think I
need to take a class in the subject. But today, I finally obtained the objective;
pictures that actually showed my work in focus, and in the proper color scheme!
And I'm very happy.
No, they're not staged with props, as, in a perfect world, they would be. I
need to hire a professional photographer to get that done. But I have neither
the time nor the money for it right now. My short-term goal is
to produce a web site that I can show to retailers and know that they will get
a flavor for what I can produce. I achieved that today.
And now, even knowing that I have a lot more work to do tomorrow on this
project; knowing how many more links I need to build to show off more of
my work, I'm starting to get excited. Because I love the process of learning
new things. I love to produce tangable output from my mind and my hands. I love the
feeling of maybe having found something that I may be able to pursue as a career
on the terms of my body's limitations. I may have finally found purpose.
An Embarrasment of Riches
7/5/07
I am not ashamed that my favorite price for anything is discounted or free. That is why
I love Concerts in the Park, Movies at the park-mall-wherever, etc., and
I rarely shop other than the sale racks at malls. And I love Freecycle.org!
I was first introduced to Freecycle by my sister about 18 months ago.
A grassroots organization, it's mission is to put people who have something they want
to get rid of together with people who would like to receive said item. To quote
their web site,
"The Freecycle Network™ is made up of many individual groups across the globe. It's a grassroots and entirely nonprofit movement of people who are giving (& getting) stuff for free in their own towns. Each local group is moderated by a local volunteer (them's good people). Membership is free.
It was started in May 2003 to promote waste reduction in Tucson's downtown and help save desert landscape from being taken over by landfills. The Network provides individuals and non-profits an electronic forum to "recycle" unwanted items. One person's trash can truly be another's treasure
"When you want to find a new home for something -- whether it's a chair, a fax machine, piano, or an old door -- you simply send an e-mail offering it to members of the local Freecycle group.
"Or, maybe you're looking to acquire something yourself. Simply respond to a member's offer, and you just might get it. After that, it's up to the giver to decide who receives the gift and to set up a pickup time for passing on the treasure.
"Our main rule: Everything posted must be free, legal, and appropriate for all ages."
Well, as I said, I belonged to this group for quite a while and have given a number of
items away. I've responded to many offers too, but other than clothing, I had never won
anything. But that all changed on Tuesday...
First I saw a posting for three folding tables. I responded immediately, explaining how
I was starting a jewelry business and could use them to display my wares. It wasn't long
before I heard back from "Ellen," letting me know that the tables were mine! By 9:30 am
the following morning, I was at her door picking them up. All three of 'em.
In the meantime, I received an e-mail about a "Ten-speed Purple Bike." It seemed that a bike
offer to which I had responded about eight weeks ago was happily coming back to greet me.
At the time, my offer was refused with the explaination that it had already been promised,
but if the person to whom it was promised didn't show up (sadly, that happens quite a bit),
it was mine. I didn't think much about it as a bike is something of real value. But I
guess Tuesday was my lucky day. "Did I still want it?" the e-mail asked. OH YEAH! So by
the afternoon, I also had a bicycle installed on my patio!
Well, I knew that I was going to post about this wonderful experience and pitch
Freecycle to boot. But as I was photographing my new bike, I noticed something about
the potted lemon tree behind it. There are THREE LEMONS on it! That is an amazing feat
as not only do potted lemons not usually actually produce fruit, but it's triple last year's
output!
A small bit of history on the lemon tree... it was an 'only tree' parked in front
of OSH when we met. They had failed to water it and it consisted of two dried out leaves
barely attached to a parched twig-of-a-stem. I only bought it because I felt sorry for
it. I guess it's trying to pay me back now, for saving it's life.
So, at the moment, I feel like I won the lotto. Everything seems to be coming
in my direction, and the best things in life are free.
Happy Birthday, USA!
7/4/07
Happy Holiday! Happy Holiday! Happy Holiday! Happy Holiday! Happy Holiday! Happy Holiday!
|
| Archives
|
