A Really Nice Tuesday

The high temperature today was:  82 degrees

Today's humidity was: 67%

Sunny--kind of.  Cloudy at times.  Humidity is hanging heavy!

Hate this weather!

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I just looked at the title.  The only thing wrong with it, is it is Wednesday and that means garbage take out day and it is going on midnight and I forgot.  So----I'll be right back.

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"Where do I begin, to tell the story of how great a" .......never mind.  If you read music you will see that those notes are not the correct ones for the song...........anyway....

The new meds--working better--not so crooked in the head in the morning.  However, for about two hours after I wake up, I have like this 4 inch wooden block squarely in the middle of my forehead--between my skull and my brain.  Ever have that feeling?  I sleep well with them, but I am very groggy and I don't wake up very early.  This getting up at 10:30, means by this time of night I am just getting started, which in turn means I got to bed around 3:00 a.m., which means I get up at 10:30--see the vicious circle here?

I just found out that there was a small tornado in Brighton last evening--when I was seeing the yellowish-green sky to the south?  When I read the account and saw where it hit--just 2.5 short miles south of me!  YIKES!!!  Over by the high school AND I just got a Face Book message from my grand girl Madeleine that they were at marching band practice on the football field, exactly one mile from where it made its touch down.  She didn't say if they ran for cover--but I think with the torrential rain we had, they had to do something.  Maybe run under the bleachers--or into the bathrooms?

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Merle has had: EKG's, Echo cardiogram, CAT scan, x-rays, blood work ad infinitum, stress test, both with the treadmill and with the Thallium and...NOTHING IS SHOWING UP!!!  They are mystified.  I think he probably should get a heart catheterization--maybe they will think to do that--I sure hope so.  (But I am not mentioning it!!!)  He's been having A-Fib episodes for the last six months!  They need to find out why and correct it--in my opinion.

Pearl is not liking sleeping alone--the first time in 5 years since she was in hospital for a few days.  I turn on my bathroom light and bedroom light which she can see from her bedroom, so when she goes to bed, she knows I am still awake and not far away if she needs me.  Hey--I'm up until 3:00 anyway.

I went to the Rich People's store today--so much fun!!  The new meds seem to be working as I picked up a cat toy--so cute and then thought, "You do not need that," and put it back.  I was also looking on line for something and found it and filled in the order information and then thought, "You do not need that" and clicked off.  One of my problems the last six months is the buying of things I do not need--want perhaps, but do not need.  It has scared me.  Picture this, awake at 2:30, on the internet and found a really neat (I can't even remember now) something and ordered it.  At 6:00 I woke up again, ran in her, turned on the computer and quickly canceled the order.  HOW NUTZ IS THAT!!!  Manic behavior, I think.

I also have not said anything outrageous or inappropriate since last Friday at the shrinks.  I still think them, but I don't speak them.  I would walk by people in the Wal-Mart and say stupid stuff.  Like, one time, a fat guy at the milk chest, he was holding two quarts of milk in his hand.  One was Fat Free, the other was 2%, so as I stroll by, I say, "Better get the Fat Free."  GOOD GRIEF.  He did laugh and didn't punch me out, but that sort of thing comes out of my mouth.  Or post links or stupid, idiotic things on Face Book and then go back in a few minutes and delete the post.  OR--my all time favorite--A lady was in the Wal-Mart toy section and when I came around the corner, I saw her stuff something in her pants pocket.  So I casually walk by and say, "Don't forget--camera everywhere.  Big Brother is watching."  Schizophrenia? 

Anyway, I am not doing that kind of crap anymore so I am grateful for the new meds.  I will get use to them so they don't bother my balance as much in--oh--about two weeks?

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Sweet Cherries or Bing Cherries--whatever.

The cherries the first of the season were from Washington state.

Then in July, I got some Michigan cherries.

Now--coming to the end of the season, these are from British Columbia, Canada.

So far--the ones from Washington state have been the best.

Did you know to put all your fresh veggies and fruit in a tub of water with 1/2 cup white vinegar to get any germs/bacteria off?  Also takes off the wax they use on cucumbers and apples, etc.  I just found out about it and do it all the time now.

Have you ever seen a brick of gold?

Why is this rotated the wrong way?

$19.99 a pound!!!!

I paid $13.00 because of my store card.

Tender Loin--Filet Mignon

Look at how thick that is.   (Quit drooling on your keyboard)!

It is the end of the month and I had grocery money left over, so..........................protein.  The first nice hunk of beef I have had in a very long time.  Should get two meals off it.  A once a year treat?  However I can justify the expense!!!

...and for dessert?  A slice of Cherry-Rhubarb pie from the

Grand Traverse Pie Company--warmed up a bit in the microwave?

PRICELESS!!!

and I STILL HAVE $15.00 left over in my grocery money envelope!!

                   which got put in the gas tank of my car because that dang yellow lighted up gas pump 

                   signal-emblem on my dash board needed to stop bugging me.

$3.79 per gallon--SAY WHAT??  Get that dang pipeline from Canada built and get some gasoline down this way!!  

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On the way home I stopped at Pearl's and gave her phone back and chatted for awhile.  She was home for two hours and then going back up to hospital.  She is very weary!!  Remember--she can barely walk from her place, across the street to the mail box and now, she has to walk from car, to hospital entrance, another 50 feet to the elevator and then to Merle's room.  I have been trying and trying to get her to take Fish Oil/Omega 3 for her arthritis.  It would help her heart and most probably her memory.  She will buy some stupid diet pill off the TV, but she keeps "forgetting" to pick up a bottle of Fish Oil at the Wal-Mart.  I want to just buy them for her, but...............that "taking charge", being "teacher of the world", is also a bad trait I am trying to over come.

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Oh--I gotta tell you.

       Two weeks ago Pearl signed up with Comcast.  She bundled her (non-existent) phone and high speed internet and TV.  I told you her computer isn't working--does not have enough memory for the high speed interest AND she had to go out and buy a land line phone, which also quit working last week.  SO--I suggested a whole lot of things, which she didn't want to do, so I shut my mouth--let her figure it out.

I brought her phone home with me Sunday, because, I had a feeling it wasn't the phone, but rather the phone line.  She was cussing it out.  "Brand new phone and the damn thing doesn't work!"  I pulled the phone cord out of my phone and plugged it into hers and got a dial tone, so I called her on it.  Apparently she didn't recognized (HER OWN PHONE NUMBER) caller I.D, so when she picked up, she said, "Who is this!"

"It's me.  I am calling you on your phone.  It works perfectly."

"Then why doesn't it work here?"

"Maybe something wrong with your phone line."

"I'm not using that damn phone or the computer ever again!!!"

"Good idea.  Now you can call Comcast and have them un-bundle you and just have cable for your TV."

"I can do that?  I don't have to have them all together to make the TV work?"

<SIGH>

"Nope.  You will save money not paying for things that you don't need."

Then, her cell phone quit and she couldn't figure out why.  She needed a new battery, but her phone is so old that the battery place can't find one that will work.  So--today she told me, her daughter is going to get her a Smart Phone and she can make calls and she can get her e-mails and play her games on it and everything!

YAY!!!  Everything will be all right now--until the phone doesn't work like she thinks it should and she will start thinking it is out to get her (purposefully), like she thought about her computer.  She honestly thinks that when she turns on her computer and it doesn't work right--it is because, "it recognizes me and so it won't work just to make me frustrated."  Honest!

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  I have my T.E.N.S. device on my left scapula and upper shoulder because, apparently someone thought that she just had to lift that heavy plastic storage box with 100 years worth of cross stitch books in it.  DUH!!

Judy--go to bed!!

Not Booooooring!

Today's high temperature was: 83 degrees

Today's humidity was: 69%

Tonight's temperature is 77 with humidity of 97%!!

Humid--way too humid--torrential rain tonight.

Too much thunder--ear plugs in!!!

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So--I am back because today was not boring.  It could have been a bit boring, which would have been good, because it turned out to be way to hectic!  Why can't life just be calm and smooth every day with just enough interest to keep us awake and not so much to cause us stress?

I have been on the new med for 3 days.  I take it at night and I do sleep well--too well--but, when I wake up in the morning I am groggy.  My head and face feels like they are sort of mis-shaped--kind of like---

Eyes sort of crossed--like I am sort of crooked?  Anyway--I am not to stable--dizzy and not good balance for a couple of hours.

I heard a car honking outside my house, so I staggered to the door, thankfully I was dressed, and there was Pearl.

"Merle is in the emergency ward.  Come with me!"

""I gotta go potty--I will be right there."

So I ran in the bathroom and she kept honking the car horn, and I grabbed my purse, car horn honking, and ran out the door.

"Will you hurry up!"  she yelled.

So I jumped into her car and off she went--cut across the corner of my neighbor's lawn and narrowly missed the next neighbor's mail box--she was driving as usual.  She got out on the road in front and immediately got into the LEFT TURN LANE--because in, oh let's say, 1.5 miles she was going to have to turn left into the hospital parking lot.  Down the road we fly--I am hanging onto the door handle---

"Hanging on for dear life, are ya?"

"No--it's just that my door isn't shut and I didn't want to fall out."

Into the driveway she whizzes--unfortunately, it is to the office buildings that house the doctors and about 500 feet from the hospital driveway.  She curses, and then meanders around the offices until she finds a back way into the hospital emergency room parking area.

We rush in--I have never seen her walk that fast in her life!!!  We get back to the room Merle is in--laying there all comfortable in bed, watching "Amish Mafia" and Pearl rushes up to him and says, "You don't do this to me, Merle!  I have told you and God--I am going first!  Don't you dare die on me!!"

Okay--not quite the way I would greet someone who may be having a heart attack, but.....

"I'm still here," he says.

I walk in behind her and he smiles--I walk over and take his hand and look at him.  "You look pretty good to me.  Your color is great."

Then I look up at the monitor--"I can tell you one thing Mister--you are not having a heart attack!!  Your oxygen saturation is 100 percent.  Your respiration is 18 and your heart rate is 62 beats per minutes."

I think that made them both feel better because they know that I am the ALL POWERFUL OZ when it comes to reading heart monitors and knowing what goes on with a heart patient.  LOL.

He was having tachycardia--arterial fibrillation--rapid heart beat.  Long story short--he has been having these episodes for about six months.  When he went for his annual check-up last month, he didn't bother to tell the doctor because he felt fine "at the time."  When he had it today, he decided to drive to hospital so they could check it out while it was happening.  There was no enzyme in his blood work to point to a heart attack HOWEVER--it did show that he might have a blood clot in his lung.  Off he went for a CAT scan of his lungs---Echo cardiogram of his heart.

He was hungry and I told him, "You can't eat while they are doing the tests."

When the doc came in, Pearl demanded they get him something to eat.  The doctor said, "You can't eat while we are doing the tests."  Pearl was pissed.

Then, I reminded them of the day last February, when he got up in the morning and got half way down the hallway and dropped to his knees because his heart was beating rapidly and he couldn't breathe.  Neither one of them remembered--SAY WHAT???  So, now I have to look it up in my written journal so I can get the date, because, the doc wants to know when this all started.

When Pearl heard him say he'd been having these episodes for quite a while, she slapped him on his arm--really hard.  "Why didn't you tell me?"  Then she looked at me, "Why wouldn't he tell me?  Damn men--all alike.  Would rather fall over dead then share that kind of news with their wife!!"

So--they went back and forth a bit--I never knew how they relate to each other, but I got a good glimpse today...still chuckling about it.

They decided to transport him to a "real" hospital.  I was so hoping he'd go to the main one in Ann Arbor, where Fred always went, but he decided to go to the branch hospital  up in Howell--where the title, "The hospital where you come to die," is commonly said all over this area.

So--by now it is 2:30 and I offered to drive his truck home.

"Can you drive a stick shift?" asks Merle.

"Of course I can.  Remember me--the farm girl?  I drove the trucks all the time!"

So out I go--the keys to the UNLOCKED truck are laying on THE FRONT SEAT.  I get in and remember, sure I know how to drive a stick shift--I think I remember how to drive a stick shift--it has been thirty years since I drove a stick shift.

Do I push in the clutch and the brake when I start it?  Had to think and go through some of the motions.  Okay--first is up and left, second is left and down, third up and right, fourth down and right.  Got it!  Now--where is reverse?      I got it home and never lurched, so---I CAN drive a stick shift!!

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The phone was ringing when I walked in the door.  My sister.  "It rained over night.  The ground is easier to dig.  Do you want to bury Fred today?"

"Sure."  (I guess.  Not really.  But--okay.)

"We have to run into town.  Meet us at the cemetery at five-thirty.  Okay?"

"Yipper Skipper.  See ya."

So--I loaded Fred into the back seat and the heavy cement angel dog statue.  Went potty.  Put more water in the cats dish.  Grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.  Wrote a note for Pearl.  Stopped at her house to leave the note and make sure her cat had food, petted him and off I went.

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Forty minutes later, I pulled into the cemetery.  Chuck and Susan were there, clipping grass from around our family stones.  Fred and I spent Christmas Day with Chuck and Susan, two years ago.  They went back to Binghamton, NY on December 30th.  Fred died New Years day and when I called to tell her, she wanted to turn around and drive back and I told her not too.  So---after Fred's marker was in place at the cemetery, two weeks ago, I asked them to pick a day that was convenient for them to bury him.  We wanted a day when the ground wouldn't be dry and hard.

Chuck measured Fred's "casket" and started digging and it was like he was digging in top soil.  It wasn't full of clay and it wasn't hard to dig.  I probably could have done it myself, but I kind of wanted them involved.

(I hope these pictures don't offend.  Remember, this is now my journal, as I can't write anymore with my arthritic right hand.  So I am putting here, thoughts and pictures that I normally would put in my private, paper, written journal.)

Yes--I know--I look terrible.  You cannot believe how heavy ashes can be!!

Chuck measuring the hole--because, after all he was an engineer.

Inside, Tootz the dog's ashes, in a nice tin box 

with paw prints on it. 

Fred's ashes, a picture of the two of them, 

inside a Ziplock bag, and a letter I wrote.

Then, Chuck wanted me to put in the first few shovels of dirt.  And then Susan wanted to also.

Chuck filled in the rest and put the sod back on top, I got to tamp it down.  

I apologized to Fred for stomping on him and then.....

My sister said these words--that she knew by heart (!!)

John 14

King James Version (KJV)

14 Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.

2 In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.
3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

Chuck had his hat off and told Fred, "Don't worry.  Michael Waltrip is still racing and the Tigers are doing great this year!"  and then Susan said, "Fred, we all miss you so much. Everyone in our family loved you and we are so happy that you can still be with us--here in our family's place of rest."  Then I said, "Thanks for the best seven years of my life, Sweetheart.  I love you."

Then we joined hands and said the Lord's Prayer.  Then I said, "I should have brought my French Horn so I could have played Taps."  (Because you know how irreverent I am!

and.......it is done and he is at rest.

Then we went back to their place, The Farm, where they are finally getting their new siding put on, had supper and I drove home--IN THE WORST RAIN STORM EVER!!!  AND IT WAS DARK AND I DO NOT DRIVE WELL IN THE DARK AND WITH THE RAIN COMING DOWN CATS AND DOGS--I sang, "Be not dismayed what 'ere betide, God will take care of you. Beneath His wings of love abide, God will take care of you.  God will take care of you, in every way, ore all the day, He will take care of you.  God will take care of you." and he did and I made it and stopped in to see Pearl and Merle DOES NOT have a blood clot in his lung, but they are keeping him a few days for a stress test and observation.  YAY!!  Personally, I think he may need a PaceMaker/Defibrillator,  or even a stent, but I did not mention that to Pearl.  She is just happier that he isn't going before her---------Okay!

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It feels so good to me to have Fred buried.  To feel that he is finally, really at peace.  

While, I do not like cremation--it just creeps me out!  I KNOW--it is just a body.  His soul has already gone to Heaven.  But, his physical body is the one I knew and adored and to have him put in a oven...........

.....sorry--can't stand it.

I remember something the mortician told me when my Mother died.  Mortician's can be weird, you know.  I think it goes along with their kind of work.  They talk "shop" sometimes when they should say nothing!!  Anyway he said, "If you opened your Mother's casket, twenty years from now, she would look just like she looks today."  That was actually very reassuring to me.  I'd go to the cemetery and stand by her grave and know that...she still looked beautiful.  Of course, on the 20th anniversary of her death, I got a bit nauseous and creeped out, but............

I just didn't like the idea of his ashes sitting out on the end table or on my bedroom dresser. It felt almost disrespectful to me.  He was not "at rest".  

 I know a lot of widows who keep their husband's ashes in a nice urn on the mantle, or have a shrine set up, but.......I have always feared, the house burning down or a tornado taking it away.  What would be left?  Nothing!  Fred would be "lost" again--truly lost.  So---to me it just feels better to know where  his remains are and that he is safe from everything.  Unless, of course, when the aliens come and do their archaeological research and dig up our graves to see how we took care of our dead and find-------------Fred and his dog buried together?  Separate containers, but yet together. They may wonder what a strange and weird people we were.

Hopefully, before that happens, the Son will come from the east and the graves will open and Fred and I will look at each other and say, "Thank God--together again.  I have missed you!!"  and Jesus will say, "Thank God indeed!"

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Sorry I have been so wordy today--maybe tomorrow I will be quieter or have nothing to say.

BOOOOOORING!!!

Today's high temperature:  83 degrees

Today's humidity was:   56%

Too hot.  Too humid.

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I didn't mean that I find flip-flops despicable, in general.  Heck, I am barefoot when I am home and slip on a pair of old, stained moccasins when I run out to get the mail or walk down to Pearl's.  What I meant is I just don't think flip-flops are appropriate to wear to funerals, weddings, church, or to your place of business, if you are a working person.  Wouldn't a nice pair of sandals be better foot attire for these functions?  Plus--they are terrible for your feet, legs and back to wear if you are out walking/jogging/running--there is absolutely NO support!  

I have yet to see anyone running in a marathon, wearing flip-flops.

http://www.webmd.com/beauty/style/flip-flops-fun-but-not-great-for-feet

or--the ever popular Orthopedic flip-flop :-)
http://www.healthyfeetstore.com/womens-healthy-flip-flops.html
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Do not worry about me if I don't post everyday. 

 Things are positively boring around here.  

I am enclosed in my comfy air conditioned wee home.  

If I mingle with any humans, I will let you know.
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What are we going to do about the mess in Syria?

We went into Iraq using the reason that Saddam Hussian had gassed many of his own people and 5,000 Kurds--the Liberals hated President Bush for that.  My friend on Face Book still condemns him for that.

If we go into Syria using the reason that Assad has gassed many of his own people, will my friend on Face Book condemn this President?  

I simply wish we could just stay out of all these conflicts. Those people are still living in the 6th century--let them have at it and perhaps then we could concentrate on bringing some economy to our country--because we wouldn't have to shell our billions to those countries.
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Anyway--if you don't see me on here very often--I will still be here.

I Am Becoming The Old Critical Woman I Never Wanted To Become!

Today's high temperature was:  82 degrees

Today's humidity was:  34%

Sunny, breezy.

Even with low humidity, 82 is still too hot for me!

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Yesterday, I went into Brighton to get my hair cut.  My hair is thick and it grows like "a bad weed", as my hairdresser says.  I almost forgot to go because, I haven't gone shopping nor to get my hair cut on a Saturday for years and years--not since I retired.  Now I know why--so much traffic.  So many people.  Every chair in the salon occupied.  Lots of noise.  So much chattering.  Yeah--I prefer to keep Saturday like an at home day around here.  

As she was cutting my hair, she asked about Karen--who usually goes to her too.  She said, "Karen is what I would call a true Christian.  She isn't judgmental about people.  She never criticizes anyone--she never gossips, she is so accepting of all people.  She goes out of her way to help others--I never would go into downtown Detroit for three days and clean up the vacant lots and houses--you could get shot!!!  And--she never preaches!  She just lives her religion by example."

Wow--what a compliment and absolutely true.  Karen is like that and maybe that is why---everyone she meets loves her instantly?  She is so much like my mother that it is sometimes spooky!!!  I thought about it and then when Karen called, I just had to tell her what Tracy had said about her.  She didn't say, "Oh wasn't that nice of Tracy?"  She didn't say, "Well I try."  She said, "anytime I am compared with Grandma Dorathy, I am humbled."      She had no ego about what was said about her, she only thought how wonderful to be compared to her Grandma.            

                  I adore this child of mine!!!

So then Pammie called me later on.  She has been calling me once a week--I am stunned and so happy.  Some daughters brag about how they call their mother every day, or a couple times a week--mine never did and I never thought anything about, but now that Pammie does--I love it.  She just wanted to see how I was doing and to tell me that "Gene" was moving into his house this weekend and cleaning all his stuff out of her house.  It will take him quite a while to get all his junk vehicles and stuff out of her yard and storage barn, but she is working with him on that.  He will come out every week and bring the lawn mower and Pammie will use it, he will take some more of his junk to his place and when he comes back to pick up the mower, he will take more of his stuff.  Pammie is very kind to him--gracious in the way she acts toward him.  There is no screaming or cursing--they are both being adults and working together.

                I also adore this child of mine!!!

When you see the actions of your adult children, you realize what kind of a job you did as a parent.  At least with these two---I did a very good job.  Pammie is very, very much like me. Sometimes too much like me!! :-)

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When I came out of the salon, I had to walk across the parking lot, as there were no spaces in front of the salon.  There were men working on something on the store next door--I didn't pay any attention.  I was feeling pain free yesterday and with my new hair cut, I suppose I may have been standing tall and doing my long legged stride across the lot.  (What they used to tell me was my run-way stride when I modeled ski pants back in the 60's. no swinging of hips, but a long easy-loping stride with my 34" legs on display.)

I hear a wolf whistle.  When I was younger, 30-40's, I used to smile and say thank you, but....not in these times.  I just pretend it wasn't intended for me.  Then I heard it again, and there was a guy, dirty, sitting on the curb, smoking his cigarette.  I just kept walking--of course I was smiling---I am always smiling, but I didn't look at him directly.  I walked around a bunch of trees and got in my car and sneaked a peek and sure enough, he turned his head and leaned over a bit to see me.

I think I was "eye-humped". (I just learned that word today, from Jean.)  I looked up the meaning and it says, "to look at someone in a lascivious manner." "to look at someone with sexual intent."  There was another cruder definition, but I won't print it here.  I used to get whistled at by nice looking men, or older gentlemen, dressed nicely.  This guy was none of those--even remotely.  I kind of laughed, but I drove out a different way so he couldn't see my license number--not as naive as I use to be.

Of course, we all know what "humping" means--don't we all?  When I read that word on Jean's blog this morning, it reminded me of my husband.  On Wednesday's when he came into the house after work, he'd yell out, "It's hump day."  (I knew what he meant).  The kids would yell "Yay, it's Wednesday,", but I would yell back, "I have a headache!"  Then he'd laugh.

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I stopped at the store--man was it crowded, come to find out they had discounts on everything--on-line coupons that I didn't know about.  I got my Finish Quantum Dish Washing pellet thingies and two long sleeved tops for winter--dressy enough to wear to church--$12.00 each.  When I got in the car, I remember my husband practically forbidding me to use a dish washer.  One of my Avon customers had one that rolled on wheels, with a cutting board on top.  You rolled it over to the sink and attached it to the faucet.  It was Avocado green and she gave it to me.  I loaded it into my station wagon, brought it home, sprayed it white and it was great.  In those days, 1974, we had powdered dish washing detergent to use.  My husband informed me that it would clog up the drain.  I thought he was nuts.  "How could it clog up the drain anymore then the dish soap I'd use in the sink?"

So. I of course used the dish washer--everyday--I loved it as I have always hated washing dishes!  Well--it was another 10 years before he left and one day that summer, the sink filled up with water from the draining of the dish washer and would not drain out.  I put Drano down the drain.  I got some lye and used that.  I got liquid drain cleaner.  It drained a bit better, but still very slow.  One day, when he came to pick up Jen, I told him about it and he said, "You're going to have to dig up the drain--from the house out to the driveway."

SAY WHAT? 

"I told you so."  (I hate superior sounding men!) 

I thought, well I'll show him.  The drain tiles are probably filled with roots from the bushes and the plants.  I commenced to dig.  OHMYGOSH--what hard work!!!  When I finally got to the field drain tiles--none were broken--none were clogged with roots, but for about 8 feet, they all were pretty much filled with a blue/white mixture of dish washer soap!!!!!   I replaced the tiles with new ones, shoved the dish washer over by the stove and used the top for a cutting board and never used the dang thing again!!!

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I have started noticing something.  It seems every one on this planet wears those things we use to call "shower shoes" or "beach shoes".  Little foot coverings made from recycled tires?  Originated in Japan where they used them for "house shoes" because they did not wear their street shows inside.  Also used in India for the very poor people to keep their feet from picking up hook-worms, and of course in China.

Now I see people wearing them everywhere!  I noticed in the salon, the only person with regular shoes on was my stylist and me.  Two of us out of forty some people?  Not just young kids, but old ladies too.  Then, in the store, I noticed the same thing--everyone walking around--making that sole-slapping flip flop sound. 

Today in church, I noticed them there also--which in my judgmental sort of mind, that people should present themselves in the Lord's house in a respectfully dressed manner, thought, "How inappropriate!" Of course, I suppose if Jesus walked in, He'd be wearing them also!!   No--He's be wearing his sandals, wouldn't he?  

Can you imagine how dirty your feet would get?  and where or where is there any support to the foot?  I fear these younger's will one day rue the day they didn't wear decent shoes.  Back problems.  The foot tends to roll over, so that mis-aligns the knees, the hips.  I said something to Pearl about it today and she said, "My grand daughter wore them for her wedding."  

SAY WHAT!!

"Was it an outside wedding?  On the beach?  Casual wedding?"

"No--it was very formal--in the church.  She thought no one could see them under her dress.  But they were pretty, with rhinestones on them and all."

Oh well--guess that was proper then.  ARGHH!

We have become such a sloppy society!!!  People in flannel pajama bottoms shopping.  Women in sweat pants shopping.  People now going to church weddings in shorts and flip-flops.

Now--I do not get dressed up to go grocery shopping or make a run to SubWay like my mother would have, but at least I wear decent clothes--a t-shirt and jeans or bermuda shorts.  AND dress slacks to church--I don't wear jeans to church.  It took me several hundred years to even feel comfortable wearing slacks to church. 

There are many women I know who don't even own a dress anymore.  We wear pant suits to funerals and weddings.  I may sound very filled with pride, but, I am happy to report that when my girls attend a funeral or a wedding, they wear a dress.  They may go bare legged, without pantyhose (which drives me crazy), but at least they have on a dress.  And my son and sons-in-law wear suits or a really nice shirt and dress pants--even the grand kids are dressed up.  I know the girls wear slacks to church, but none would ever think of wearing jeans!!  I say this only because I noticed the lady in front of me in church today, had on jeans. She is the choir director--and she had on jeans. Yes--they had rhinestone studs on the back pockets, so they were dressy, but......?

The lady that got up to give the Scripture reading, had on a dress and..............flip flops---slap,slap,slap,slap,slap--all the way from her pew to the lecturn.  The minister had on a white shirt and tie AND HIS ROBE.

Probably none of this matters!!!  Just a part of my aging mind becoming critical.  I'm sure God doesn't care what we wear to church.  BUT--even to the funeral of The Wicked Witch of the West, I wore this outfit:

I just see these things and think it is very odd.  Obviously I am a dinosaur, but I just don't get the whole flip flop thing.  My grandma use to tell me, "Wear a good supportive shoe, because when your feet go and start to ache all the time--every part of your body is going to ache."  I think she was right, HOWEVER, I haven't gotten to the point of wearing the kind of shoes she wore!  Every day!!!

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I had to stop at the Wal-Mart today to get my prescription filled.  As I walked around, while waiting, I found something for Evan's 2nd birthday.  I hope he doesn't already have a tri-cycle--knowing that family, he may have 3 or 4, but I got this one for him.  It has a siren on it and flashing lights and car noises--I think it is wonderful!!  He is quite tall for his age--at least he was the last time I saw him, so I think he will be able to reach the pedals.  If I don't get invited to his birthday, I will take it over on a day when the older kids are in school and just he and Pammie are there.  I will be breaking my daughter's law of not seeing him, but I won't go inside the forbidden house, so maybe it will be all right.  I AM SO TIRED OF THIS DECREE OF HERS!!!  I MISS MY LITTLE GRANDCHILDREN!!!

Thank Goodness For the "Delete" Button!!!

Today's high temperature was: 77 degrees

Today's humidity was:  36%

Sunny, a nice freshening breeze from the north-east

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I wish I had a delete button for some of my daily issues :-)  

I am a bit pissed off right now--sorry for the crude language, but it's the only "nice" word I can think of.  I saw a link on my Face Book page about "Gospel Prosperity" preachers like Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyers.  While I have watched and liked them both at times in my life, I do not always agree with their thinking.  So I shared the link and stated how I felt.  A friend of mine, commented that she agreed and why.  Then this other "person" on my friends list came in with a comment that the first comment meant, "You mean we can do anything we damn well please and we will get into Heaven?"  Now, the first comment and my comment didn't say that, didn't infer that.  I have no idea what the second woman was saying, but I know her and I know--it matters not what I post on Face Book--if it is the least thought provoking, the second woman will blast me, or get into arguments with my other friends that post positive comments.

She also commented that "with that kind of thinking, no wonder you right-wingers are all nuts."   What?

I don't know why I just don't block her from seeing any of my posts--I've blocked me from seeing hers on my page, because they are so negative, ugly, wanting to start a fight.  No matter what you might say back, if you disagree in the least, she will nail you to the wall with her venom.  Some of you that are on Face Book have seen some of her comments to me, so you know who I am referring too.  

I have only met and talked with her twice in my life.  Somehow these people get on our friends list.  Friends?  People we don't know--some we haven't met and yet they are friends?  

Before the last election she got on me big time when I inferred I wasn't going to vote for Mr. Obama.  I didn't say I was going to vote for Mr. Romney either, because I wasn't really planning on voting for either one.  Man alive!!  She jumped on that comment and told me, "All this time I thought you were an intelligent woman.  It breaks my heart to realize how stupid you've become.  Why would you vote for someone who is going to take away women's right?  Repeal Social Security and Medicare?  How could you be that ignorant?  I thought you were Pro-Choice!"

Well--her comment hurt deeply as I had never said any of that, nor had I inferred it.  I didn't respond right away, but later, went back and said, "I didn't say I was voting for someone who would take anything away from anyone.  You have inferred that I am not Pro-Choice!  I am pro-choice!  and my choice is...not to vote for Mr. Obama!"

I should have blocked her right then, but I didn't want to appear as petty as she is.  So--today, after seeing as how she was trying to bait my first friend into a theological/political argument--I just deleted the link, the post, and the comments!  Gone!  Off into the ether where no one can see it.  Then I private messaged my first friend to tell her what I had done because....I sure didn't want HER to have to endure what I knew was ahead of her from the second woman!  She is very good at baiting people--trying to argue--trying to get you to slip up--so she can come down on you with both feet.  I will NOT play that game with her!!!!

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So--today I went to see the PsychiATRIST.  The MD.  The PhD.  He was actually very nice.  I was precise in telling him why I was there--that I couldn't get the correct drugs from my primary care guy until I had a diagnosis from him.  Of course, I handed him my HUGE list of all the diagnoses and drugs I have taken over the last 40+ years and why they did not work.  He actually thought the list was great.  "Don't you think that is obsessive to work on a list like that?"  I asked.  "A bit," he said.  

Of course, he didn't give me a diagnosis--do they ever?  I want a nice tidy diagnosis of what is wrong with my head, so I can become obsessive and research it to death.  Oh no--not that simple.  We have to "discuss" the whys and wherefores and the years of what I had gone through.  No. No.  Here is all you need to know--just give me a diagnosis and prescribe something you think will help these weird thoughts/feelings/reactions I am going through.

After an hour, he gave me a few tests--like him giving me a list of numbers that I had to repeat back to him.  And three words, Purple, Tree, Honest--that half an hour later, he asked me to repeat.  I suppose he was checking for Alzheimer's?  In the middle of one of his numbers list--he asked a question and I answered.  Then he asked me to repeat the 7 numbers back to him and I did.  He said that my memory was outstanding and that my I.Q. was very high.  "Huh?"

He said, "by this list of yours, it seems you have been told you have every mental illness except Schizophrenia."  

I said, "Well, I sometimes wonder about that, but I'm not paranoid.  I don't think the NSA or the FBI are spying on me and, if they are, I don't care...so I guess I'm okay."

He said, "You do seem sort of hyper today."

"Yes--I know.  I have been talking fast and furious because I am trying to go over 74 years of my life history in the fifty minutes I am allotted!"

"You are confusing, that's for sure."  (Whatever that meant.)

I didn't get to really tell him of the way I am feeling NOW.  The irrational thoughts and actions.    He asked me if all this planning of my death and funeral was really about ME or was it about making things easier for my family.  "Have you ever really thought about taking care of you and not everyone else?"

Well, hell no!  I was a daughter, then a wife and then a mother, then an employee, a care giver and a grandmother.  When did I ever think about what I wanted?  It's just not my nature.  

Of course, now all those things I WAS--are gone away, so...perhaps this is the reason for my mental turmoil?  (I thought of this after I got in the car).  I sure hope he doesn't try and make me come up with what I want because---I haven't a clue!  I don't want anything!!  and please...don't make me go to the Senior Center...or a bus trip...or go out each week to eat in a restaurant all alone.  No. No.  

I do not want to socialize--especially with people I don't know.  I would prefer more family time, but other then that, I vant to be alone!

He thinks I may have a death wish.  I told him "probably", but I wouldn't do anything active to bring it on.  I am not suicidal, but...I wouldn't mind if all of this was over with."  He frowned.  

So, 90 minutes later he said, "I think Risperdol will help.  The smallest amount---at bedtime.  Stay on the Celexa."

At least I got something and I go back in a month.  He also wants me to go back into talk therapy with Lynn--the one I went to for 3 months after Fred died--she is in the same building.  We shall see.  What a bore!!  I hate going over all this crap since childhood and how did it make me feel and why did I do that, and...and...  The hurt little girl never heals, okay? She is always there in my mind and soul.  Just give me a damn pill to straighten out my chemical imbalance or something.

Oh yes--and he wants me to keep writing to get my thoughts out.

You poor readers!!!
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I GOT THE POWER!!!

Bye Bye