The Great Purge and Other News

Greetings from the bottom of the Stress Pool!

Before I begin, there is some business from Google that says I must warn you there might be cookies running this blog. Disclaimer: I did not make them, nor did I eat them. You've been warned.

School has been out for two weeks now, and my To-Do list for June has been seriously ignored, mostly by me. We did clean up the back porch and set out the chairs; I did buy and plant day lilies on the back hillside, much to the delight of the resident rabbit! (the weed garden has nicely taken over the rest of the area). But, that's not all that's growing...

DH and I are going to be first-time grandparents this December! Big Brother and DiDi are expecting their first child. There will be a gender-reveal party sometime later this summer. We did gender reveal - we just told people if we knew. Things are so different now! Congrats to the happy couple, and yes, we are excited, and glad to report it has not made me feel older. Warning: I'm going to be one cool Nana! In other news, our family is also growing. Morticia and the Doctor have made it official! We are looking at a little wedding in the future, so our little family also continues to grow by leaps and bounds.

Now, for the Great Purge, from which I am taking a small break. There is a small area in the basement which has been known to my family for years as "The Workroom". There are shelves, an old kitchen table (by old, I mean retro, like from the 50s!), and an odd assortment of junk. This is where I did all my drawing and painting while taking classes to obtain an Art Certification. Many a midnight candle was burned during that time.
The problem comes in that the spiders also like that room. Why wouldn't they? It's small, not much light (enough for when my eyes were younger. Not so much now.) So, DH said, "Why don't you just make the whole family room your studio?"
Wow. This is really what I've wanted for years!
So, I have begun The Purge, which is quite bitter-sweet. Ten years ago, when Eggbert left us for the Hereafter, part of me died along with him. Yes, many things happened in that time - graduations from high school, college; job changes; retirement (DH - not me for quite a while!). And, in those ten years, I've nicely squirreled all of those memories in that room, eventually spilling out into the unused family room. So, the goal by the end of June is to clear it all out and begin making art again.
 A couple boxes, some garbage bags, and we're good to go. Easy, right?
Not so much.
Every paper, letter, program, sympathy card (yes, I have only just begun to get rid of them), brings up a forgotten memory, or the face of a person not thought of in what seems an entire lifetime ago. It has been hard (not to mention dusty!). But, since the day is dark and rainy, and it's left-overs for dinner, today is the day. I just needed to take small break, a bit of time to collect my thoughts, sort of a stocking-up on the ammunition needed to finish the job. I think I'm ready to go again.
I also wanted to have the first draft of a current story done by the end of this week, but there is still time - after all, it's only  June 27th!

So, as I say goodbye for now, stop on by, dip your foot in the pool, and share your favorite memory!

Senior Day at the Pool

My BFF took me out for a birthday dinner, and mentioned she hadn't seen a post from the Stress Pool for awhile. Hard to believe how quickly time passes. Not so, though, in Senior Prison. (That's what DH calls it). There, the time drags on and on and on....

Mima has been in a skilled nursing facility for two years now. She can no longer walk, but her mind is still quite sharp - what I always felt would be the worst way to spend one's golden years. My mother-in-law had her health, but suffered from Parkinson's Disease and Alzheimer's. If I had my druthers, if I would become infirm, I think I'd like to lose my mind. DH would say I'm already there. Ah, but I digress. While it isn't far from our house, I set Sunday afternoon aside to spend some quality time with her.

This does not come without some modicum of stress. Some people refer to this as being in the middle - elderly parents on one hand and children still living at home on the other. I call it skirting the edge, mostly because of the dance that goes along with this position. 

Getting ready for the visit requires a checklist. Clean laundry; snacks; sausage biscuits (because we don't like the breakfast food they serve, except for pancake day and one other meal), and other assorted items she might call me about during the week.

There are visits that go quite well - we sit and laugh, which is the best medicine ever. I gather up the books she gets from the library through the Blind Association to mail back; water the plants (no, I forgot to bring plant food again); put away the freshly washed laundry; take the few nightshirts she's worn through the week to wash. 

Then, there are the visits that don't go quite so well, depending on how her week has gone. If she's had the Agency Aides, hell might as well open the gates and swallow us whole. Those are the days where she quite adroitly points out every flaw of my pitiful existence - to the point where I wonder how I managed to get out of bed and dress myself. 

But, I'm getting smarter.

A few weeks ago I brought some new night shirts with cute little sheep and other witticisms. Best thing ever. Today I forgot the puffed corn snack, but brought her some Chinese food - General Tso chicken and rice, to be exact. She even dusted off the pedestal before my climb. If I come bearing presents, life is good. It's very good.

Since I forgot the popcorn, she asked if I would go to the cafe to see if they had any. Ahead of me was an older woman in a wheelchair, headed for the doors. There was no way I would get there before her, and then - the alarm. Some of the inmates wear a bracelet that sets off the alarms if they get too close to the doors. When the alarm goes off, the doors lock. There was no getting out for anyone. The nurse came along, saying, "Sorry - she's been in a weird mood today." She took hold of the handles and pulled her back along the hallway. The older woman glared at me, and unable to actually verbalize what she wanted to say, her vocalization said it all. In a few seconds the doors unlocked, and I was able to continue on the search for popcorn. The trip was unsuccessful.

On my way back to Mima's room, I had to pass the woman in the wheelchair, who had been planted next to the nurse's station, now armed with a roll of small trash can liners. She fixed her gaze on me as I passed, and swatted at me with the roll of plastic in her hand. "I didn't do anything!" I said with a laugh, sidestepping to avoid being hit. An hour later, when I was leaving, she stopped eating long enough vocalize her displeasure at me. I'm certain if she could still speak, she would have unleashed a torrent of swear words. I couldn't help wondering if I hadn't worn the lime green t-shirt...

Guess I'll never know. Just goes to show, if one elder isn't yelling at me, there's sure to be another who will. Dancing on the edge, baby.

You're always welcome at the pool, especially if you want to join me in the dance!

Carving Out Calm

It's almost time to turn the page on the old year. Looking back on 2017, DH and I reflected that it was a very expensive year, but a good one. We welcomed in a new daughter as Big Brother and Didi tied the knot.(And, kind of another, as I've sort of adopted her sister, too!) We had a LOT of work done on the house - from new electric lights, switches, and outlets, to new ceilings in the laundry room and the Nook, ending with a massive painting job inside and outside.

We also welcomed in a new fut baby. Mandy was gone a year in October, and we were offered a darling white and gray cat who had been abandoned in South Park by the former owner. His name was Beast (there was also a Beauty, but nobody knows what happened to her - or him). We first went with Gandalf from the Hobbit series.  (First he was Gandalf the Gray, and then Gandalf the White). A week later he was Oliver, and then he was something else...the four of us just couldn't agree. Then, one day, Moink called him Simon, and he glanced up as if acknowledging that was indeed his name. If you're at all familiar with "The Naming of Cats" by T.S. Eliot, every cat has a name known only to himself. I think we just happened upon it, so Simon it is. He's been a very fun addition to our family.

Good things have also happened. Didi landed her dream job in the fashion merchandising industry. Big Brother was offered a promotion that will take effect after the first of the year. Morticia was offered a position as a funeral director at the mortuary where she's been interning. Ms Business has been accepted into the dental hygiene program at the University of Pittsburgh for the fall of 2018. We see subtle improvements in Moink's health every month, although he still suffers from the headaches. All-in-all, it wasn't a bad year.

So, in thinking on the coming year, everyone asks, "What is your New Years Resolution?", to which I usually reply "None." I know me. It won't last past getting out of the gate. No wreath of roses  as I'll at the end of this race, as I'll quit trying by the end of February. Look at how often I blog despite my best intentions. Deplorable! However, I heard an anchor on a television show say she was going to take time to "Carve out Calm", causing me to pause amidst internal negativity.

Wow. In this crazy, stress-filled world, doesn't that sound wonderful?

Then, thoughts of resolutions past hit me like a cold wind. How is that possible? What could I do to carve out calm? It's like planning to lose weight. Without knowing the steps, reaching the goal is impossible. I know from past resolutions. Just saying it does diddly-squat.

Here's the plan: every day (probably in the evening), I will take a half hour for me, whether it's a bubble bath or reading a book. Maybe a walk in the park. That will be my calm. During the day, which is usually a never ending source of stress, (Hello, did you read the directions? Were you listening? What do you mean I'm over-drawn? Didn't you buy the chicken? What time was that appointment? - you catch my drift!) I plan on resurrecting the age-old practice of counting to ten before I react. I may have to search for an abacus in order to keep track of the counting! And then, there's Tai Chi, something DH and I have been doing once a week. Not only do we get to spend time together, but it really is helpful in rinsing away the stress.

How about you? Thinking about those resolutions for 2018? You still have a week to decide.

From all of the swimmers at the Stress Pool, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and may you enjoy a prosperous, healthy 2018.

Overcrowding at the Pool

Sometimes there are just too many bodies in the pool. Not in the physical sense. I mean in the surreal sense. If I ever felt completely and utterly alone, this blog would be called “Welcome to the Oasis”. Let me explain.

Ms. Business and I worked on the Nook yesterday. Trash day is Monday, and because the weeks are about to get eaten up with All Things Work Related, I decided that it was time to rip out the 46 year old rug that’s graced the floor. Maybe covered is a better choice – there was no grace left in this animal once called a carpet. There had to be at least five pounds of dirt underneath when we flipped the sections to roll, which was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen gross. During a Saturday art class I took when I was sixteen, we went on a field trip to the labs at the University of Pittsburgh to see a body our instructor was drawing. Yup. You read that correctly. A dead body. She unzipped the body bag, picked up a piece of skin at the base of the abdomen, and said, “This is the chest cavity.” Four of us leaned in for a better look. Everyone else blanched. Ah, but I digress. The point is, I’ve seen gross, and the worst was on the floor of the Nook. Needless to say, there were several hours of cleanup involving a broom, a swifter wet mop, and a regular mop. I’m happy to say the room is now ready for the painter. I was physically exhausted, and quite glad I hadn’t gone to the gym that morning, because the room would probably not be ready!

Around 10:30 last night, after reading a little more of an essay by J.R.R. Tolkien (research), my eyelids drooping, I crawled into bed and happily snuggled deep into the mattress, wrapping up in the fleecy blanket. At 4:00 a.m. my little eyes popped open amidst the noise. The house was quiet – except for Moink, who was just going to bed. (He has his nights and days mixed up, poor kid!) No, it was the voice in my head, that darned little creative beast that keeps me wondering about the world and seeing it in an entirely new light.

I have a friend who has a name for hers – it’s Jane. Great name for the voice. I don’t know what to name mine, and of course, she often brings a friend or two. No, I’m not schizophrenic. I’m creative. We hear voices. Sometimes we listen to them; sometimes we write what they say. Well, my little muse was practically hopping up and down. “Wake up! Wake up! We should look for a big one.”

“A big one what?” She's so annoying in the middle of the night.
“Window. You know, with lots of panes so we can etch them.”

“We’ve never etched on glass.”

“Isn’t that what YouTube is for?”

I sighed and rolled over. “Go back to sleep.”

She poked me. “Let’s go look. You have to go to the bathroom, anyway.”

She was right. I did have to use the bathroom. I slid out of bed, put on my flip flops and bathrobe, and hit the bathroom. She turned on the light. Damn her! I’d never be able to go back to bed now. “Happy?” I muttered.

“Yup."

One of the other un-named voices chimed in, the one that's the most practical and logical, and definitely not my true voice. "Hey, you need to rethink the menu for this week. Let’s do the chicken and Spanakopita tonight. You’ll have to get the stuff out of the freezer.”

We did that. It’s now 5:00 a.m., and we’re sitting at the dining room table going through yesterday’s mail and rethinking the menu. There is now a small shopping list that will need to be attended to later. I put down the pen. “We should go back to bed now.”

“Let's go look at YouTube for how to etch glass. Hey, think Jane is up?”

I glanced out the front window across the street. Her house was completely dark, as it should be at five o’clock on a Sunday morning. “No. We’ll talk to her about it later this week.” Jane is an expert in all things glass in the art world. No doubt she would be thrilled to talk to me about this, but not right now. We turned on YouTube and set about watching several l-o-o-o-o-ng videos on this process. I’m no expert yet by any means, but I feel that this is something my muse and I can tackle.

It was now 7:00 a.m., and I was feeling ready to make friends with my mattress again. Another video on some unrelated craft started, and that little voice cried out excitedly. I closed the laptop and muttered “Not now,” and sent her back to bed.

But, just as we were in the process of snuggling back into the warmth of the bed, all the while trying not to awaken DH, she whispered, “We should start sketching what we want to put on those panes.” I pushed her out of the bed and closed my eyes. Not yet, not until I’ve had some coffee, and a few more hours of sleep.

So, when you ask how my summer was, I’m going to answer that it was wonderful and relaxing. I got to spend precious time with my family. I got some things done around the pool that have needed to be attended to for years. And my creative juices have started flowing again. My little muse is awake and ready to play. Am I sorry to be going back to long days in the classroom? No, because I enjoy the creativity of children, and being part of that process. 

But I will miss getting up to gentle sunlight filtering in where the blind doesn’t quite cover the window. (Like many, I get up in the dark during the school year). I will miss sitting on the back patio in the middle of the day or on a cool morning, drinking coffee and listening to the song birds that live in our backyard. And going to the bathroom when I want, not solely relying on the minute and a half provided between classes. Yet, summer will call again next year, and we will once again enjoy the blue skies and sunny days, even the stormy days, with the leisure accredited to her name.

Until then, the Stress Pool will still be up and running, and a little more true to its name. If you have some time to spare, come on down to the pool, and bring your voices. The more the merrier!

Resting spots at the Pool

Greetings to all my fellow swimmers! The Stress Pool has been that all summer - but still good! DH and I were quite busy going through all of Mima's belongings - we emptied her apartment in March since becoming a permanent resident of Senior Prison. There are still a lot of things remaining, but for the most part, much of the garage has been found!

A lot of time was spent in preparing the Nook. It's a room between the laundry room and garage, and has served many purposes in the thirty years we've been here. First, it was a den, changed to a room the older boys shared, then a room for Mima, and then a room for Eggbert, who was often joined by Mandy the Cat. Then Morticia took the room, and it was a dumping ground for anything she didn't currently need on her travels. Now, it will be the Nook, a reading - writing- dreaming room where one can gather thoughts and relax. DH will be happy when it's done, because the large pile of books waiting to be read will move from the living room, which will actually free up some space in there! That has been the biggest project. It and the laundry room needed work on the ceilings - the boys found out that they can jump surprisingly high on a bed, and left dents in the ceiling tiles! And, this whole thing started because the light in the powder room needed to be replaced, and I figured if we were working in there... Now we're waiting for the painter, who looks a lot like Johnny Depp. I've chosen a creamy white and an almost colonial blue, with white trim for the Nook. Looking forward to spending some quiet time there this winter.

Sometimes creative juices simply don't flow because of life. Mima had a few health issues this summer (UTIs are dangerous to elder people); Moink is still having concussion issues; I had hand surgery (which is why Johhny Depp's twin is coming to paint - DH doesn't want me to over-do it with the hand). Someone had to take care of the back hillside before Tarzan and Cheetah decided to swing in for a visit, so Ms. Business and I worked on that. She is great at pulling weeds and laying out the week prevention paper! My eyes closed and gentle snoring ensued pretty much the second my head hit the pillow at night. There is still a lot of flora out there that needs to be taken care of, but at least we've made a dent!

2017 isn't slowing down, but looking forward to a great resting spot in the Nook. Thanks for visiting, and come back soon.

Ahhh, Summer at last!

Well, it's been a while since I last checked in, but it's not easy being pool manager. There's the concession stand to keep stocked, filters that need to be changed, floaties that need to be filled with air, and believe me, there's only so much breath to be had! Now that summer is upon us, we can sing "On the first day of summer vacation, my true love gave to me - a sore throat and a nasty cough!" Yup, gotta love the man, who is in much worse shape than I - he is enjoying the beauty of a bilateral eye infection on top of the cough and sore throat! (There are some things that just shouldn't be shared with one's spouse!)
In the time since I've written, Morticia has graduated from Mortuary School, and is currently ensconced in an internship at a VERY BUSY - and I do mean BUSY - mortuary. She's in her glory. She has also moved in with the Professor, and they have a kitten named Finn, who comes to visit with them, usually on the weekend. It's fine, because we lost our beloved feline of 13 years in October. Mandy developed mouth cancer, and she went peacefully at the veterinarian's office. Amazing how little furry creatures can hold your heart in their paws.
Big Brother is hitting the books hard to obtain his MBA. For fun, he goes to work, takes care of a house, continues planning a wedding with Didi, and is raising a rambunctious beagle - Charlie, my other furry "grand animal"! He doesn't come to visit, but it's nice to see him when I go to see them.
Ms. Business is working toward application to Dental School to be a hygienist, which while in embalming class, Morticia told her fellow embalmers this is what her sister wanted to do, and there was nothing grosser than putting your fingers in someone's mouth. Yes, this brought on a barrage of laughter!
Then, there is Moink, who is still feeling the effects of the concussion. His life isn't what he's like it to be, and we've tried so many things...hopefully, he'll be back to himself soon.
Mima is now in Senior Prison (dubbed so by DH), and of course, she hates it. Can't blame her. One night as Ms. Business and I were leaving after a visit, I pointed out the line-up of the poor lambs in their wheel chairs next to the nurse's station, and said I just cringe at the thought of ending up in that situation. "I would never want to be a burden to any of you, but I'm appealing to you to not let me end up like this."
"Don't worry mom," she said, patting my arm. "Big Brother and Didi will take care of you."
And, we're back to stocking the concession stand for the busy summer ahead, as soon as I stop coughing long enough to make it to the store!
Thanks for popping in at the Stress Pool, where the water is warm and life is beautiful all the time! So, here's to Summer, and may all our plans for long-awaited free time come true!

Dark Gray Clouds over the Pool

We wouldn't enjoy the sunny days nearly as much if there weren't a few cloudy ones in between.
This year, I believe I've had my full share of clouds.

How do you put into words the feelings you possess for a loved one who has been there through many of your darkest trials? Who greets you when you come home, who is content to sit with you, no matter which room you choose to rest, or work? Who, when you're upset, gently lays a furry paw on your arm as if to say, "That's okay - I'm here."

Sorry - I'm talking about the cat. Mandy has been with us for thirteen and a half years. She turned fourteen in May. She came into our lives one balmy, January day. I had arrived at the school where I taught for half a day, and there at the door was a little gray Tabby kitten. It watched me walk inside, where I was instantly greeted with, "Is that cat still out there?"

Temperatures were predicted to drop through the day to sub-zero that night. One of my colleagues implored me to take the cat home, with the excuse that I had children! I also had a husband, which I reminded her of, saying that if I brought home the poor little thing, I would be out on the porch! True to the prediction, the temps did drop - and stayed that way for a good three months! She seemed very content to be in the warm house. She got her name because the custodian at the school called her "Miss Kitty" all day. When we sat around her on the kitchen floor that evening, I suggested Amanda (for Amanda Blakely, the original Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke). Big Brother wanted to call her Felix, but I nixed that one. They decided on Mandy (which was fine by me - Barry Manilow being one of my favorites!). So, Mandy she is.

Well, thirteen years later.... Mandy has been my constant companion; greeting me at the door when she hears the car pull into the driveway, begging for tuna every Friday in Lent. She adored Eggbert, and simply loves Ms. Business and Moink. Face it, she loves us all. When Morticia pops in, or Big Brother, she can't help but make her presence known. They must pay homage to the kitty by rubbing her on the head and a little scratch behind the ears. Contented, she retreats.

She started acting a little strange a few weeks ago. Her go-to place is under my desk, and she stays there for hours. Or, she'll come upstairs, meowing in a very grumpy fashion, and then disappears back to the basement, under the desk, of course. Ms. Business pointed out a swollen spot on her mouth, and when I called the vet (where she'd been given a clean bill of health just a few weeks before), they said maybe her tooth was abscessed. Who knew that kitties could get abscessed teeth?

However, I wasn't convinced. You know when someone you love isn't at their best. She was barely eating and drinking. The appointment was made for her to see the kitty dentist. Today, DH left work, picked up Ms. Business and poor kitty, and together they took her to the vet for surgery. Believe me, I've been sick over this for the last two weeks, wondering if she would even make it to the appointment. They would operate at noon - I should get a call by two o'clock, which I did. The prognosis was not good.

This afternoon, I picked her up and spoke with the specialist. The tooth was not abscessed - in fact, he said, she had great teeth for a fourteen year old cat! He confirmed my worst fear - there was a mass growing inside her jaw. They sent it out for biopsy, but basically we talked about spoiling her, and making her feel like a queen for the time she has left. Sort of like kitty hospice, I suppose. So, I bought the really nice, expensive pate' that she likes, and of course, tuna. The saddest and hardest part is knowing that even though he cut out a huge part of it, the mass will continue to grow. We don't want her to live in pain, and she's miserable (otherwise she wouldn't keep hiding under the desk!).
Moink has taken it well. He's bereft, as we all are. After all, he was four when I brought her home. He doesn't remember what it was like not having her. And, he was always her boy. When he became upset, she did, too, seeking him out, sitting next to him and watching him, as if she could take away everything that was making him sad.

We want to do that for her, too, so we'll pet her and love her and try to give her what she needs, the only way we can thank a furry friend who has given nothing but her best to the people she loves.
Man, I hate cloudy days.