Monday, January 31, 2011
Is there anything more beautiful than glistening snow in the sunrise? Yes...... Grass. I have reached my limit for snow, as much as I love it. I think that the physical stuff I have been going through is making it difficult for me to get out there and "love it". That's a shame, because it has always been one of my most favorite things. It's not to say my love affair with snow and winter is over, but only to say that yes, a break would be nice. I feel particularly bad for the friends and family on Long Island and points south. The reality is, we signed on for winter. For us, we knew we would be living this. For the southerly friends, not so much. An occasional snow storm is fun. Snow days are great. But the lingering mounds of dirty and icy snow taking up parking spaces and making life difficult is not what a typical long islander is looking for. We used to head down for a visit to get away from it all. Now, it is a trip into the fray. The thing that I DO appreciate about our snow is that it stays pristine for way longer than Long Island. That part I love. We (I use that term loosely) have been plowing every day for a week, and it keeps coming. Yesterday for the first time it occurred to me that using my snow shoes to get to the mailbox might not be a bad idea. That's a new thought. Allison drove yesterday, because practicing driving in the snow is something she needs to do. It was a bit of a change, but altogether not bad. I'm proud of her. I do know that getting out (however distasteful that may be) is the antidoes to depression. I was wallowing in it last week, and found even speaking to be a difficult task. Getting out and getting some Vitamin D, however small a dose, does help the soul. Sometimes though seeing the forest for the trees is beyond our control. And so, wallowing in it for a few days is the only solution. Boy am I glad that part is over! I do feel the days getting brighter for longer, and planning my garden (wherever it is out there) is helping me cope with this never-ending winter. That, and the thought of getting down to L.I. to see some family and friends. I think that has given me a new lease on things. That, and alot of meds. Lyme disease can really rob you of your feeling of ability. I'm working on that. I had a Dr's appointment on Tuesday, and this is the travel conditions I pushed myself out to. For those who like browsing, here is a picture of the camp next to ours, up at Caroga lake. for sale-$54,000. Word has it they purchased it for $19,000 just a few years ago. Quite a price escalation, eh? I imagine this cabin, which is one block from the Association Beach (dues $70 per year) could be had for MUCH less. Just saying! It's a beautiful place to be when the sun is shining, which I'm hoping is sometime soon! Happy Chinese New Year!
at 8:37 AM
Thursday, January 20, 2011
It's twilight now, my favorite of the day. The trees look like black lace against the violet sky. We are snuggled in Allison and I, and the day was perfectly relaxing. Allison resting with a stomach bug, me resting with all of it, and Daphne resting while absorbing her new insulin program. Daphne, it was discovered on Monday, is diabetic. In addition to losing six pounds, she has also been sleeping alot, peeing alot and drinking alot. You would have thought with these symptoms that I would be the one who diagnosed it. But it was a blood test. I feel kind of bad. Actually, let me correct that and say I feel quite bad about it. For Daphne to lose six pounds requires alot-she was only twenty pounds to begin with. You would think I would have noticed sooner. But, I didn't. I wondered what was wrong with her, but I didn't come right out and say "diabetes, that's it". She deserves better from me, her diabetic Mother. My first concern when I heard they were calling in her prescriptions (what pharmacy do you use?) was whether or not the pharmacist would think I had thrown in the towel with my regular physicians and decided to seek treatment from the local veterinarian. What would you suspect if a regular customer who had been treated for everything over the past few months (sheesh, what does this broad have? she's taking all kinds of medications and now this? a new insulin and syringes? what happened to the pump?) I would be thinking these questions if I were the pharmacist, and yet they just efficiently filled Daphne's prescriptions and then I also picked up a few of mine that were waiting. So all in one bag goes the dogs prescriptions and my prescriptions. I am having some trouble with this. It seems sort of off to my sensibilities that the dog and I are getting our medications from the same source. I am trying to be more loving about this, Daphne is of course my baby, but something feels not quite right. Should I now be making my hair appointments at Shampoodles? Although, feeling dog tired has been a complaint of mine for some time. And I know when I go out and don't really put my best foot forward, the sentiment that "she's a dog" would not be terribly far off. I have my moments for sure. We got home and nto the fridge went Daphne's insulin, right next to MY insulin and again the thought occurred to me that possible cross-medication could occur, especially when I'm not feeling myself and have to set-up my pump meds. Sometimes when my blood sugar gets low I get a little "off-center" as we like to say around here. For example, last Sunday when we picked Allison up in Newburgh and brought her home, we made a side trip to Albany and the chrismas tree shop. While there, I started to feel a little low and took some glucose tabs. By the time we got to Petco to pick up some dog supplies, I was hovering around 50. That is a dangerous number for me because I begin to make decisions that have no basis in reality. I purchased a life preserver for Bailey that I am quite sure will never be worn. First of all, the dog knows how to swim. Secondly, this is not the face of a dog who will be wearing the life-jacket. Ever. The rationale for purchasing a life jacket in the middle of January escapes me at the moment, but I'm sure at the time it felt right. I am always so grateful to my family for going along with things and not pointing out my diabetic delusions to the cashier. But we managed to get home with all our purchases. My point is that when my blood sugar is low, I get confused. And now that we have syringes and insulin in the refrigerator right alongside mine, I am trying to be extra diligent in my blood sugar testing. Getting low blood sugars could be disastrous. In the meantime, I will make sure that Daphne will get her injections on time, and hopefully, all will go smoothly. What are those odds?
at 5:21 PM
Monday, January 10, 2011
We were hit with quite a bit of snow, as you well know. Ours came a little later than downstate, and thankfully, is only remotely impacted by the plows. We live in a winter wonderland, and it stays that way for a long time. The temperature tonight is going down to about zero, and we are loving every minute of it. Me and the dogs do not have to go out, but briefly, and that is the way winter should be experienced. We dress up for the weather, not for the fashion, do our business (well the dogs do, I just accompany them for ha ha's) and go back into the toasty warm house. The reason the house is toasty is not because we're running up our gas forced hot air heat, but because we're running up our pellet stove. This has a nice and toasty gas run fire flame in the center of the living room. This fire flame is incredibly warm, and also centered directely below our large screen TV. Which is placed directly in front of mine and Jerry's chairs. Also strategically placed in from of the sofa, which is Allison's place of business. We're quite comfortable. The high point of our day is when Jerry comes home and places himself in HIS chair. Unfortunately, he doesn't get home until late evening, and so he misses most of the beauty of this winter wonderland that we live in, except to drive to his job, and return at night. The mornings he is home, long enough to plow the driveway so he can get out. For us, it's like living in a snow globe, and I am blessed every day. In the meantime, Bailey keeps it warm. We're due for another big one on Wednesday. I hope you find YOUR fire and enjoy it all. Even if it's just for a moment.
at 6:33 PM
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
It has come to my attention that Anne Francis passed away on the 3rd of January. She probably doesn't know this, since I never wrote to her, but Anne Francis was my childhood idol. She ranked way above Barbie and Skipper, first of all because she was real, but mostly because she wasn't a Bimbo. Up till Anne Francis, all the women in TV were quite stupid. If Honey West were on Gilligan's Island, they would have found a way off the island. Instead Ginger and Marianne stood around looking beautiful but whining about their situation, and so they are still there, or at least until the sequel twenty years later, when they were found, no thanks to their brains. Honey West was the first Charlie's Angel, only she did it on her own. The first TV Female Detective who was something to look at, and a force to contend with. She was a hot number who wasn't an idiot. THIS was something I wanted to emulate! We spent hours upon hours in my cousin's basement playing Honey West and switching rolls repeatedly so everyone got a chance to be Honey West. The rest of us waited patiently for our turn to be the heroine who gets to wipe out everyone else in the basement, hiding behind laundry baskets and under beds, we held shootouts and choreographed wrestling matches that were played out over and over again, until it was played out right. There were dramatized deaths and staircase falls while holding our chest and gagging with blood, ending with Honey getting to stand over her conquest with the gun in her hand. In charge. Honey West. All it took was a swirl of an eyebrow pencil, and honey had that little birthmark on her face. It needed no cape, no elaborate costumes like the boys needed. No green make up or massive muscles on their arms or hands for recognition. a little swirl of an eyebrow pencil gently placed on your lower cheek, and immediately you were Honey West. As one of the older cousins and in charge enough to direct this busy activity, looking back I now realize I was only eight years old. I felt old enough to actually BE Honey West, or at least a reasonable facsimile, I can't believe I had that kind of self-confidence back then. Keep in mind that these games went on for hours. The cocktail hour going on upstairs allowed us kids to really get into some serious play-acting, without supervision. It was outstanding! Kids nowadays don't really know how to play,not through any fault of their own, but because we are so diligent about our supervision of them. Perhaps because we know what can happen unsupervised? I hate to analyse these things because I fear that I will unearth some terrible truth that will label me a bad parent. And so, I just fondly remember those years of unsupervised play, and thankfully look back with such happiness at what was probably my first real role - Honey West. I believed I was her, and I may just dab a little eyebrow pencil in her honor. There is no one home to really judge me. And when Jerry gets here, I can swiftly open the door, holding my hands together as if they are a gun, point it at him and say "Hold it! I'm Honey West" He probably won't know what the hell I'm talking about. Which is probably a good thing. The fact that he is carrying a gun when he gets home may make this more realistic than I am into. And Allison gets home before Jerry, so I don't want her to think I'm a lunatic anymore than she already does. The kids are all aware of my acting aspirations - just ask any one of them what I can't do, and they 'll tell you while rolling their eyes. the Christmas monologue will go down in history. But my first real role was Honey West. Believe me, I was in the moment back then. Rest In Peace Anne Francis, and thanks for the memories. you really should link to our blog page: www.bluelinefarm.blogspot.com It's worth the hassle just to see her picture. :)
at 12:08 PM
Monday, January 3, 2011
In an effort to follow my resolution, which I am smart enough to say "I hope to" instead of "going to", today I went for a brisk walk in the pasture, which "I hope to to every day". I made this resolution because it will be a good goal for me, and it won't kill the dogs either. It is a small enough goal in that Jake can do it without hurting himself, and Daphne SHOULD do it because she is so fat her belly hangs over her feet when she sits down. My weight is stable, which is good, but I think I need to get out there more every day, and if I have a problem, walking in the pasture keeps me within eyesight of the house, and in case I have trouble, they will find me eventually. See how optimistic I am? Anyway, the walk went something like this. . . "Come on kids, good boys, what a good girl, that's it, you're doing great, stay together now, Don't go over there Daphne, stay here sweetie, Daphne come with me honey, Daphne stay out of there, come here baby, that's a good girl, come on, come on Daphne, Daphne honey, Come here honey bunch, get out of there. Daphne, Get Over Here Daphne, Come Here Daphne, GET OVER HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT! GIT! GIT! YOU BETTER RUN! DAPHNE!!!!!!" I end up RUNNING in the pasture, which was not my intention. A nice brisk walk was what I was going for! She gets her cookie anyway, but I make her wait until the other two have had theirs, and she works herself into a fat little snit, thinking she won't get a cookie. And the tragedy is, she doesn't even LIKE these cookies, but she likes to guard them from the other dogs. She sits next to the cookie in the living room and torments Bailey, not eating it, just staring at it, then at him. Just watching it and barking if anyone comes near her cookie. He eventually gets it because she will get bored and walk away. He then sneaks over and grabs her cookie. Jake doesn't play this game. He takes his cookie and goes directly into his room (which is our room too but that is a small detail) and lays down. He is smart. That is what I WOULD LIKE TO DO! Walking in the pasture makes me tired, and as soon as I get Bailey off my seat, I will lay down. I must be out of my mind! Happy New Year.
at 5:10 PM