WHY I WRITE AND BLOG

 

          When I first began blogging a very long time ago, I had many reasons for doing so. The original blog I began in 2011 I cannot find anywhere any longer. I suppose the contents were deleted into the ether when I neglected to return after being absent for many years.

          I tried a couple of other times and even took a class, but never stuck with it until after John died. That’s when I began “Paula’s Widow’s Mite.” When I began, it was for several reasons. First, I thought my experiences might be helpful to other widows. Second, I figured my blog might attract a large following. And, finally, there was the small idea in the back of my brain that it might attract a publisher.

          Well, my number of followers never rose above maybe twenty as far as I could tell, and almost no one ever responded with a comment on the blog. Since I post the blog title and link on Facebook, there were/are some folks who comment on Facebook about what I wrote. And it’s true, when I was posting erotic fiction, chapter by chapter on my blog, I did end up having an interested publisher. Unfortunately, it was my first draft and needed a lot of work, so a book with my name on it won’t be appearing in the local bookstore anytime soon…or anytime at all for that matter. That’s because I decided I didn’t want to spend the energy on a massive revision.

          For a period of time, I didn’t write or blog at all. I just didn’t have the any enthusiasm or topics which made me want to do so. Don’t ask me what happened recently that led me to take up the keyboard and begin again…I just did.

          I’ve decided my main reason for writing and blogging is for my own interest and satisfaction. The topics about which I write and post may be of little interest to most people; however, I enjoy the process and end result. I’m doing it because it’s fun for me. Of course, when I do receive comments, either on Facebook or in my actual face, those comments, since they are positive, do make me feel good. 

          Of course, this doesn't mean I don't hope people will read my blogs and enjoy them because I most sincerely do. Still, I imagine if someone told me they hated a particular blog or said I was a horrible writer, I’d continue to write and blog simply because me, myself and I like doing so…a lot.

GOOD FOR ANOTHER TEN THOUSAND MILES OR TEN YEARS

 

          This past Tuesday afternoon I had my annual mammogram and saw my doctor face-to-face for the first time in far more than a year. That’s not to say we haven’t emailed or talked on the phone about minor concerns (mine) that didn’t require an appointment. This was a wellness visit.

          With Kaiser Permanente, you have to fill out a form prior to your appointment and I did that but also prepared a document which I attached to an email…the questionnaire wouldn’t let me attach anything. I wanted to make the best use of the forty minutes allotted to me with my doctor.

          Of course, no one had looked at the email, printed out my document and given it to Megan (MD’s name). Fortunately, I had brought my own copy and gave that to her. I had prepared it so my concerns for the visit were listed first, followed by things just for her information. Megan quickly scanned what I’d sent. I should say she also knows me because she’s been my doctor for at least ten years or more.

          Unfortunately, there’s not a lot that can be done for the peripheral neuropathy which was caused by a breast cancer drug…Cytoxan. The neuropathy has now moved up into my ankles and slightly higher in the left leg. They check this by having you close your eyes while they touch the bottom and top of your foot, then your ankle and calf. It looks like a long pin, but it’s rubber. I was supposed to tell her when I could feel the touch. She was well above my ankle on the right and a bit above on the left.

          I wore flip-flops to the doctor’s office because I knew we would talk about my feet. It is not, however, a good idea for me to drive in them since I cannot feel my feet. I almost rear-ended someone on the way to the doctor because my flip-flop got stuck behind the brake pedal. I yanked it out in time but it scared the crap out of me. I almost always wear actual shoes to drive because I can feel the pressure my foot makes against the pedals.

          We also talked about whether or not I have hammer toes that require treatment (surgery?), so I have a referral to a podiatrist. Only two of my toes actually bother me. They lay in such a way the toenail touches the shoe bottom. I need to keep my toenail as short as possible so there’s no pain. I don’t know if the podiatrist can help me, but I’ll find out.

          My blood pressure was a little elevated and I had just re-ordered lisinopril on Sunday. This morning I had an email telling me I needed to check my blood pressure on a regular basis and send in the results or I won't receive another refill. I didn’t think you’re supposed to take your own blood pressure, but I don’t see why I can’t, so I will.

          Most of the appointment was spent talking about how I am doing as far as friends and family goes, the various activities in which I’m involved, my daily life, and of course, Kuma (Megan loved his photo). At the end Megan told me she’s pleased and impressed with how I’ve come to manage my life since John’s death. It made me feel good to hear that because sometimes I don’t feel as though I am managing very well at all.

I needed no tests or follow-up aside from getting my Covid booster. I wanted to have the flu vaccine as well, but they won’t be giving those until September and I’ll get it then. So, here I am, good to go for another ten-thousand miles or ten years, whichever comes first.

I GIVE UP!!!

 

          Kuma has won. I give up. Tuesday night, we were already in bed and I was almost asleep. Kuma began barking, hopped off the bed and ran to the living room to stand on the couch, stare out the window and continue barking his fool head off. I kept saying loudly, “NO BARK!!!” but it did absolutely no good.

          I got myself out of bed and went down the hall, remote in hand and tried the noise button…no response, just more barking…, the vibration button…no response, more barking. So, I hit the shock button and Kuma yelped, hopped off the couch and headed for the bedroom.

          I felt very bad, but he no more got in the bedroom than he turned right around, ran back to the living room and began barking again. I followed and hit the shock button again…he yelped and I felt bad. We played this little game a couple of more times until I closed the bedroom door to keep him there.

          Apparently, the shocks made Kuma very nervous and upset. I was upset, but not nervous. He was up on the bed, off the bed, panting, growling and acting totally crazy. I put the remote away and took off the collar, thinking Kuma would calm down if he didn’t have to worry about being shocked.

          Well, that didn’t work either. He did get up and stay on the bed, but he continued growling and making little barks. I wasn’t going to get to go to sleep; in fact, I was now wide awake…wide awake and pissed. So, I picked Kuma up, walked down the hall to the dining room and pushed him into his crate. He spent the night there and seemed just fine this morning.

          After I put him in his kennel, I looked out all the windows to see if there was something going on that was making Kuma bark. There was nothing and no one that I could see. I could see the young man next door in his kitchen with someone. The window was open so could it have been that Kuma could hear them talking and that was what he found upsetting? Don’t know, just wish he’d save his barks for daytime and not when I’m going to sleep.

          Anyway, I don’t know if Kuma enjoyed his night, but I certainly enjoyed mine. I slept like a log and didn’t wake up until after 8:30 am (Kuma gets me up at 6:30 am). It was later I realized the Covid booster shot I received Tuesday afternoon was most likely responsible for my long sleep.

          Today, Wednesday, I took Kuma to bally-ball hill. I chucked his tennis ball repeatedly and he was a good doggie. There was an older man and woman picking blackberries; and while Kuma went up to them, he didn’t try to jump on them. There was also another couple that came into the area with a dog on a leash. They walked around the perimeter of the field. Kuma was interested but didn’t bark or try to chase after them and their dog. Those were both improvements in his behavior.

          One thing I love about taking him to bally-ball hill is that Kuma lets me know when he’s done chasing after the ball. He goes past me with the ball in his mouth to the car. I open the back door to get his bowl, but when I open the front door, he tries to get inside. When I begin pouring water into his bowl, he gets back out and drinks a lot. Then, it’s back inside where he pants all the way home.

          Today, I didn’t put Kuma’s shock collar on or pick up the remote. I couldn’t stand how he yelped last night and how upset he was as a result. So, Kuma wins. No more shock collar. I’ll just have to wear earplugs when I go to bed, I guess.

PERCEPTION

 

          As I was drifting off to sleep last night, thoughts about perception began to crawl through my mind. Surprisingly, this morning I was able to recall what I’d been thinking about…perception, and how it changes over time.

          When I was under the age of eight, I lived in a small community in Idaho, which I know I’ve mentioned before. During that time, and most likely because I was so young, my perception of my surroundings was totally different than what I saw when I returned there in my early twenties.

          Our house had a detached garage. The front yard had a picket fence and there was space to park a car in front of the fence. Beyond that was the road and on the other side was a huge field which ended at the creek. These were vast distances to me back then and that’s how I always remembered that place.

          When John and I returned there on one of our car trips, I was amazed to see there was no space in front of the fence (which had disappeared) to park a car. The road ran right in front of my house and all the other houses that were still there. I could practically stand on the painted line in the middle of the road and spit into the river. My perception of a place that had remained huge in my head had shrunk by a lot. I know the canyon sides didn’t move, nor did the canyon floor shrink. Everything just seemed a lot bigger when I was smaller.

          When we first moved into this house, we had few belongings. When we talked or laughed, there was an echo. Now, there is no echo and I don’t believe it will return until all the belongings I’ve/we’ve accumulated are boxed up and taken out. The house seemed huge then, but with the addition of two sons and all the stuff brought in, the house became small. Even now, with just me and Kuma here and pretty much only using one of three bedrooms, it seems small (except when it’s time to clean).

          Visitors, and even those who haven’t visited but have been told, believe I have a beautiful garden. That’s their perception. My perception is that it needs a ton of work. I don’t see just the beauty, but the weeds, spacing, and labor the garden requires. There are times I allow myself to perceive my garden as beautiful. It’s usually at the end of the day when I’m relaxing on the deck, surrounded by greenery and blossoms, with the water feature making a lovely sound.

          There are times when I wish I was able to read minds. I’d love to be able to know what perceptions family, friends and maybe even complete strangers have of me when they meet me, get to know me, become a part of my life, or move on out of my life. The main reason for this is that I often feel that a lot of people do not see me as I see myself.

          My perception of me is that I’m loving, generous, thoughtful, considerate, helpful, and always want to, and try to, put my best self forward. Depending on the person being contemplated, I often don’t believe that is the opinion held by him or her. That’s not to say I haven’t been, and will most likely be again, a complete bitch. But, when I’ve been the bitch, I always try to make amends, apologize, do whatever I need to do to get back in that person’s good graces. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m always successful. So, perhaps it’s a good thing I am unable to read minds.

          Finally, there’s my perception of my current life. I believe I am extremely fortunate to have the life I now have. Is that the perception others have about my life?  Do they believe I’m doing just fine as a widow? Do they believe I’m completely happy with my lot? Again, I’d like to know the opinions of some people. Knowing their views probably wouldn’t change how I feel about my life and how I’m living it, but it would be interesting nonetheless to know.

          Perhaps tonight when I’m falling asleep, my mind will bring up another topic about which I can provide my own perceptions. Sweet dreams.

WHINE, WHINE, WHINE

 

          This may be a whiney blog…whiney about more than one thing too. And, I really don’t have a serious reason to be whiney, but that’s how I’m feeling today (Sunday).

          I hate feeling sticky. The weather yesterday and again today is warm and humid as in the air feels thick. The very act of breathing makes me feel sticky. Actually, doing something that requires muscle use makes me really sticky. Today was the day I water everything in my garden except the grass which is well and truly dead. Just walking from front to back and setting up the hoses/sprinklers made me feel as though I need a shower…a cold shower.

          And, okay, it could be way worse. I could live in one of the southern states that have had temperatures over 100 degrees for days, weeks, months. But it’s a dry heat they tell me, but I still think that has to feel really hot. Of course, most have air conditioning (I think), so it’s a quick walk from one air-conditioned location to another. So, yes, I agree I probably don’t have a lot to whine about here, but I HATE feeling sticky.

          It hasn’t been long since I blogged about my pot garden and the flowerbed gardens, but I’m tired of them today as well. I’m tired of having to water everything so it stays alive and continues to produce and/or bloom. I’ve also reached the point I reach at some point during the summer where I feel as though I’m done, just done. I’m at that point now where I’d be happy to begin putting the garden away for the winter and most of my dahlias haven’t even begun to bloom yet. I’m sure I’ll feel differently tomorrow or whenever movement doesn’t leave me feeling sticky.

          My final whine (I think) is about Kuma. He is one very smart doggie so why can he not learn two things I’d love for him to learn, i.e., no bark and no dig. I went back to bed this morning and left the door open so he could come and go. He went all right, right out to a place he’s dug before and dug not one area there, but three. He’s after the moles, I think. So, once again, I’ll need to scrape the dirt back into the holes. And why is there always less dirt to go back in the hole than what came out? Once I’ve replaced the dirt there, and in another location, I’m going to put metal grids over the dirt so he cannot dig there again.

          Kuma simply will not get the “no bark” command. Today, he made me so angry I upped the number on his shock collar. He yelped and I felt extremely bad. I’ve used the sound button and the vibration button as well as the shock button on a low setting, but maybe it’s going to take a bigger shock to make him stop barking. I don’t even know why or at what he’s barking because I can’t see anything out the window. So, what will make me feel worse, giving him an actual shock or putting up with his ignoring my “no bark?”  I’ll probably feel worse if I make him yelp again…I felt so cruel I wanted to kneel and love him all over to let him know how sorry I was.

          I guess I do have one more whine and it has to do with my resilience. And, okay, I know I’m much older than I once was and it’s probably the reason. Still, when I spend an entire day working away at whatever the project may be…yesterday it was taking all my plants outside and giving them a nice bath; cleaning up the areas in which they reside, washing all the plates that go beneath to catch water, and then hauling them all back inside. Yes, they look wonderful, all bright and shiny, plus I changed the way some are displayed and added a few new ones that required transplanting. I also baked a pork roast in the early morning so I can have pulled pork sandwiches.

          There was a time when I had hanging plants at every single window, plus a three-tiered display at one end of the living room. Back in that day, I would haul the plants out, transplant those that needed it, hose them off, clean and oil the shelves, wash the plates, and then haul them all back inside. Back then, I did the entire thing in one day. Today, I have about six more plants that need to be transplanted and returned inside and I’m feeling very tired. I’m not sure I’ll get to those plants today.

          I’m sure if I sat here a while longer, I could find moer things about which to whine, but I’m not going to do that. I actually feel a bit better and more energized now that I’ve whined for two pages. Thank you for reading and understanding.

GRANDKIDS...DON'T YOU JUST LOVE THEM.

          Grandkids…don’t you just love them. I found out almost twenty-two years ago just how wonderful having a grandchild could be when Haley was born. I was and still am so in love with the woman she has grown into, plus I’ve had the joy of watching her do so as the years passed.

         

Arayli came into my life about twelve years ago when her mom and my Thor became a couple. She also brought joy into my life and I’ve loved watching her grow from that toddler to the burgeoning young woman she is today. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of choices she makes as she continues to mature.

          Xander was born almost nine years ago; and it’s been like having and watching his father, Thor, all over again. In fact, I sometimes call him Thor because he so strongly resembles his dad. I was delighted to have another baby to hold and love on.

          As it was with Haley, I was in and out of Xander’s house and had him at least once a week or so as he went from baby to toddler to young boy. He brought so much joy into my life and that of his grandpa who doted on his grandson. I’m not sure Xander will remember his grandpa, but I hope he has a few memories, i.e., sharing his blueberries and raspberries with grandpa.

          Unfortunately, covid came along and I didn’t have the chance to spend time with pretty much any of the grandkids. They grew and changed so much during that time that I don’t feel as though I know them very well at all. I feel guilty some times because I did so much with Haley when she was young, but haven’t had the opportunity in the last few years to spend much time with Arayli and Xander.

          What brought this blog on is that I spent this past Wednesday with Arayli and Thursday with Xander. I’m blogging about this on Friday; and let me tell you, I’m exhausted. Eight trips to and from Snohomish is a lot of driving when I don’t drive all that far on a regular basis.

          Arayli wanted to go for sushi and we did so, to a new place at Alderwood Mall. It must be how sushi is prepared and served in Japan although I don’t really have any idea. There was a robot that went around the restaurant and delivered glasses of water. Maybe it delivers other things, but I didn’t see food or dirty dishes on the robot’s shelves.

          We ordered through an electronic menu. I figured the waiter that wandered around would bring our food. Instead, it came via a conveyer belt that stopped at our booth. We opened the plastic container and removed our dishes. The bill did not arrive electronically, however, so they have some improvements to go. Arayli said it was the best sushi she’d ever had.

          Thursday, Xander wanted to go to the zoo and I opted to take him to Cougar Mountain Zoo in Issaquah. The parking lot is tiny and I was beginning to think we’d have to see if we could park on the street when I realized there were two open spots right in front. There was no signage saying I couldn’t park there so I did.

          About the only impressive thing at this zoo is the collection of bronze statuary. There are pieces located all over the place consisting of animals the zoo does exhibit and ones it does not. A couple of the exhibits were sort of naturalistic, but most were concrete and bars and wire. Very hard to take a photo of some of the animals with bars and wire in the way. It’s also a very small zoo, but the staff seemed very friendly, knowledgeable and happy to be staff members.

          The gift shop was very small with mostly toys and stuffies for sale. The zoo also did not have a restaurant…only a machine that dispensed water and sodas. I do think this zoo is supported very well. There were many pavers with names and other instances where donors were listed. And, I’m sure all the statuary was either gifted or donated.

          When I paid admission, I also bought little cups of chopped apple. Xander fed the raindeer by throwing apple pieces into the exhibit. At the deer and alpaca exhibits, these animals took the apples right from his hand. His favorite was the alpaca because they had such soft heads and noses. Xander’s very favorite was the wolves. There were supposed to be four in the exhibit and he easily found the three white ones. It took some time and a revisit to find the dark gray one. Xander believes the dark gray one is the alpha.

          After the zoo, I drove into the Triple XXX in Issaquah for lunch. Xander’s cheeseburger was as big as mine. I figured he might eat half, but he surprised us both and only left a couple of bites. I was amazed to find out the restaurant only takes cash or checks. They do have an ATM ($3.50 to use) and luckily I had my debit card so I could obtain cash and pay the bill. I wonder what they do if the patron isn’t able to access cash via the ATM.

I remember Triple XXX from when I was young and the great rootbeer. The rootbeer is now $7.95 for a chilled beer mug full and was as delicious as I remember. I think this Triple XXX is the last one around here, and it’s a bit like a museum inside. People have written their names or other messages on dollar bills and these are taped, stapled, glued all over the place. It also contains old car engines, photos of past customers and a wide variety of other memorabilia. I even saw a funeral program for someone.

Anyway, we had fun, or at least I did. Xander and I are going to Woodland Park Zoo in a couple of weeks. I don’t yet know what Arayli would like to do at some point before school begins.

So, as I began this blog post…grandkids…just love, love, love them. 

NEIGHBORS' NIGHT OUT

 

          Tuesday was Neighbor’s Night Out (NNO). This is an event the neighborhood has done for I don’t know how many years. The first one wasn’t held on the actual event night, but at a later date. It was held so we could all say farewell to a family that had been good neighbors for many years. Their children had grown up with mine, they’d played together, shared overnights, etc., and it was the first close family to leave my neighborhood burrow so to speak.

          Various people have been responsible for organizing and holding the event. Initially it was me, then me and another woman, then a couple and finally two couples. The event was originally held at the end of the street in the driveway and yard of two neighbors. For the last few years it’s been at the end of the south cul-de-sac in front of the host family’s home. Next year, if we managed to bully my next-door neighbor into taking on the responsibility, it will be held adjacent my house in his driveway and yard.

          My contribution has always been the Neighborhood Directory. This was started decades ago by a woman who no longer lives here. It was taken up and revised by the child of another neighbor as her senior project. I took it on when NNO became a regular event. I update it each year with any information neighbors want changed and/or add information for new neighbors that have moved here during the year.

          The directory was originally (and still is) prepared in Publisher. Various neighbors have asked for an electronic copy, but none of them have Publisher, so they get a hard copy which I print and collate and provide at NNO or place in their mailbox if they were unable to attend. It contains cell phone numbers, names of children and ages, names and breed of pet as well as an emergency contact. Based on the response to my inquiring emails about revisions, I believe it is a valued document. I’m seriously thinking of moving the information to Word for 2024. That way, I could provide an electronic copy.

          At 5:00 pm, it didn’t look as though there was going to be an event, but by 6:00 pm, tables, canopies, chairs, grills, even flowers in vases on the tables thronged the street. Then, by 8:30 pm, it had all been taken down. NNO was attended by about half the neighbors that live in the cul-de-sacs. I printed out twenty-seven directories and had to place 13 into the various mailboxes.

          Brats and hot dogs went on the grill, salads, side dishes, chips, dips, fruit, plates and utensils lined the tables and the feast began. Every family brought something to share and it was all very tasty. I had the first brat I’ve had in 2023 and I want the recipe for the watermelon salad. I contributed chocolate zucchini bread which disappeared as did the lemon bars another woman made. I came home very full, but not uncomfortable.

          It was so good to see everyone in one place, to be able to have a conversation, as opposed to just waving as we drive past each other in our cars. My neighborhood has a wide variety of ages, now mostly middle-aged, but time is marching on. There is only one woman left from when I moved here. I was seriously hoping she would attend as she always has, but at ninety-nine, it was simply beyond her this year. I did get to see and hold (I felt very special) the newest member, a three-month old baby boy. There’s also another baby due to a different family in September. The families even live next door to each other so they’ll be playmates.

          Since I am now the second-oldest as well as the second-longest neighbor in residence, I’m sure the time will come I’ll end up in first place. Eventually, I, too, will be gone, but it gives me pleasure to think a young family will move in here. It also gives me pleasure to think the Neighbors’ Night Out will, hopefully, continue for many years to come. It is, I believe, a tradition well worth continuing.