Food Thoughts

 I've been restless the last couple of days.  We've been hit with the heat wave that's going across the country, and with all the rain we had last week the humidity is insane (like 100% in the mornings).  Yesterday the temperature was "only" 92, but the heat index was 105.  That much humidity just makes it hard to breathe.

I normally wander outside a lot - even just to sit and read on the back deck.  But that's not exactly pleasant at the moment.

With outside impetus, I'll still go out.  I worked at the Museum Monday and I'll be going in tomorrow.  But by the time I get home I'm knackered and pretty much worthless for the rest of the day.

But I wanted to write about food today, and the foods that I miss.  The way I eat now isn't quite how I used to eat a few years ago.  For example - lunch today was homemade hummus with a plate of roasted sweet potato wedges, roasted cauliflower, carrots and pepper strips.  Dinner was a bowl of quinoa with the rest of the roasted cauliflower, some leftover salmon, red onions and carrots that I had pickled, and a dollop of spiced yogurt.  And that sort of eating is pretty typical for me.

But some things I miss.

White sandwich bread.  A proper peanut butter and jelly sandwich should be made with squishy white sandwich bread.  But I don't know anywhere you can buy just 2 slices of the stuff.  And I could freeze a loaf, but frozen and thawed just isn't the same, and besides that's an urge that only hits every few months so it might take me a couple of years to get through a loaf.  Sometime last year I visited Gill, and along with some luscious home baked goodies she put two slices of white bread in a baggie for me and I was able to have my PBJ and glass of milk and it was awesome.

Hot Doggities.   This is a childhood favorite.  You cut a slit in a hotdog and stuff it with cheese, then roll it in a crescent roll and bake it.  Bob liked mustard as a dip; I favored a combo of ketchup and barbecue sauce.  Have a side of Zappo's Voodoo potato chips.   The problem with this is once you open the crescent rolls, you have to bake them. A Hot Doggity does not freeze well. I've made Hot Doggities once since I lost Bob. After eating two a day four days in a row, I was sort of over them.  Sometimes I think I could make two (freeze the rest of the hot dogs) and then try to figure out something to do with the rest of the crescent dough but then it seems too complicated and I just forget about it.

Chicken wings.  Drippy messy chicken wings.  Chewing the meat off the bones, going through lots of napkins.  They're something that you let someone else make.  Thing is - they're sort of a social food.  It wouldn't be the same, sitting by myself gnawing away.  I've gotten used to going out to eat on my own (I do my grocery shopping after I get off work from the Museum, and have found that it's best to eat lunch before going to the store and overloading the cart).  But normally when I eat, I read, and chicken wings aren't very conducive to holding the phone.  I could get them to go - but that doesn't solve the problem of eating *before* I go grocery shopping.

Side Story:  One place I go is a little Thai place that's in the same strip center as Aldi's.  Last time I went, the owner came out to say hi (he was also being a server that day) and he said "I've seen you here before - you're a regular now."  That was both cool and a little strange, as most of the time I view myself as something of an invisible ghost and it's surprising when I find that someone sees me, enough to recognize me.

Hamburger.  Nice big two-handed hamburger.  Ditto what I said above about social food and messy eating.  I think I had a hamburger sometime in 2021, when I went to a cookout at Rob and Amanda's.  But it's not out of reach as much as the hot doggity, because if I go to the bakery at Publix I might be able to buy one hamburger bun.  Could happen. (My mind drifts to maybe I could even find a cooking youtube video of people standing around a barbecue grill, and feel like I was at a gathering, but my little side voice says that might be a bit pathetic)

When was the last time I had a Coke?  (Or any soft drink).  Not in 2023 yet.  

I think that's it for my food nostalgia.  PBJ on white bread (with milk in a mug - a childhood preference because it didn't spill as easily as a glass).  
Hot doggities.  Chicken wings.  Hamburger.   And someone to share it with, so I could use two hands to eat.   All simple, all oddly out of reach

Random: Dream, Headphones, Puppet

 Had another dream that left me upset yesterday.  Bob and I were still working on campus, but my mother was apparently living in a campus facility as well.  I got off work and was driving home, and suddenly wondered why did I do that?  Just get in the car and go home alone?  Why didn't I go visit my mother - and then Bob could have walked over after work and we could have gone home together.

That one didn't take much interpretation. For the past few days, while I nursed the toothache, Bob or my mother would have said "oh, poor baby" and brought me ice cream or soup and taken care of things for me.  Instead, I came home alone.  Sigh.

I got headphones yesterday.  I listen to music a lot - while I'm doing dishes or folding laundry or working in the cottage.  It keeps me company.  Also, I have tinnitus, which is annoying as hell and listening to music helps drown it out a bit (I do miss silence so much - I would love to sit outside on a quiet evening with no distractions, but all I would be able to hear would be that damned screeching sound . . so, music.)

So sometimes I use the TV soundbar, often the portal in the kitchen, the old-fashioned CD players in the cottage.  Other times I just use my phone, with or without a bluetooth speaker.

But sometimes I *really* listen to music.  I pay attention to the harmonies, the arrangements, the subtleties.  And I hear other people saying things like "man - it's so cool when it sounds like it's going behind your head" or "what is that deep thrum in the background" and this is stuff that I'm just not hearing.  Hence, the headphones.  I'm not the type to wear them a lot (I've seen people in the grocery store wearing their headphones, fer cryin' out loud) because I like hearing the ambient sounds around me, but for really listening, they're great.

"Blink" - one of the best Dr. Who episodes ever - was first aired 16 years ago.  What does that have to do with my headphones?  I'm thinking about the scene where the geek guy is talking about how "he and the guys" are finding what's called Easter Eggs - hidden messages - in DVDs.   The girl gives a condescending smile and says "when you say 'the guys' you're talking about the internet, aren't you?"

And when I say people discussing the nuances of music - I'm talking about the internet.  Reading comments made on music videos.  Or listening to what are called "reactions" - people recording themselves listening and reacting to music.  Most of them are pretty banal "Oh, Wow That Sounds Really Good" but there are a few done by vocal coaches or musicians who really analyze it, and I learn a lot from them.  But yeah - if I want to listen to music with someone, I turn to the internet.

I often remember Bob, listening to a particular riff in "If You Could Read My Mind" and playing along on his fingers.  Sometimes asking me to shush if a song that he especially liked came on the radio while we were driving.

I do try.  There have only been a few times in the last three years where I've been in a position to try to share some music with someone, to share my pleasure in an arrangement, an interpretation, or a harmony.  And what happens is that about a minute into the song, whoever I'm trying to get to listen says "yeah, it's nice" and goes back to chatting - or back to looking at their phone.

So - the internet.  It's one sided, but you take what you can get.  
Hey - 2024 self, when you read this (because I do go back sometimes to read my posts) - slap on those headphones and revisit this one.  A cover of "The Sound of Silence."  It's a little hit-or-miss - he sort of wanders off the track at times, but I frickin' love when he gets to the part of 

People writing songs

that voices never share

And there are some lush harmonies leading up to that, but when it gets to "voices never share" they all drop off and it's just the solo wistful voice, alone.  Gets me in the feels, every time.

On to the puppet.  Not a lot of progress.  I still needed to make several sheets of felt for the body, which is fairly easy:  Layer wool on a sheet of bubble wrap, get it wet, roll it up around a pool noodle, and roll it vigorously to mat the fibers together.  It was the "vigorous" part that just wasn't going to happen for those days that my tooth was throbbing.

I was feeling better by yesterday, but I was having one of those days where I couldn't goad myself into doing anything.  Maybe because of that dream, or the fact that I didn't sleep well because my jaw still hurt and it was a bit stuffy last night.  I just didn't feel like doing stuff that should be done (i.e. chores).  I did at least go out in the late afternoon and made one sheet of felt and got the tail made.

Today I felt better - and ended up doing catch-up work.  Cleaned animal cages and did two loads of laundry (clothes and sheets) and cooked a big pot of quinoa to eat during the week, handwashed my linen blouse (not risking that handkerchief linen in the machine), got the trash together and taken to the dump, made bread, made a large batch of caramelized onions (I was given a 10-pound bag of onions), cleaned the two bathrooms.  I did, once again, go work on the puppet in the late afternoon and have the felt sewn onto the body.  Hopefully tomorrow I'll get my backside in gear and churn out some work on it - the Comic Con is in two weeks and there's a lot of work still to be done.

It will happen.  Adrianne was asking if I thought I would be done, and I told her it's my usual modus operandi so sort of putz along at something until I'm almost late and then doing a mad dash.  But I was literally born that way.  I've always liked the story of my nativity.  I was three weeks overdue.  Mom, on a dark and stormy night, announced to Dad that I would be appearing that night, and insisted on going to the hospital.  They checked her - no signs of labor at all, but I was quite overdue so they checked her in with the plans of inducing labor the next day.  In the middle of the night she had her first labor pain and checked the time.  I was out 17 minutes later.  And I've been that way ever since.  

A Tale of Two Teeth, A Phone, and the Puppet

 I have lousy teeth.  There have been so many times in the past when I would talk to my mother about yet another trip to the dentist, and she would say "I'm so sorry, honey - I swear that I drank milk while you were in the womb."  Didn't make a difference to my thin enamel.

So the majority of my teeth now have crowns.  Alas - after a few decades, they sometimes need to be replaced.  Almost a year ago this happened.  My dentist - who is very conservative and won't do anything unless absolutely necessary - was wavering.  He didn't know if after taking off the old crown and reshaping what was left of the tooth if there was enough to hold onto a crown, or if a root canal and post was necessary.   We had two options.  One - go ahead and put on the crown, and if a root canal was needed later get it done (which would have to go through the crown).  Two - do a preemptive strike and get the root canal, then the crown.  We chose neither - he put on a temporary crown, and rather than the usual putting the new one on in a couple of weeks, he decided to leave the temporary one on for a few months to see if it would hold.  6 months later - it's doing fine.  I'm ready for the new one, because a temporary doesn't fit quite as well, needs careful cleaning, and can be a bit sensitive.

We set a date in April.  He gets called out of town, and we reset for June. About a week before - the damned tooth starts hurting, badly.  Oh, crap - I'm thinking it needs a root canal.  I go in for my appointment.  He looks at it, looks at the X-rays, and thinks it could be just a slight shift and now I'm biting too hard on it and it's getting inflamed.  So he files it down, and we set an appointment for 3 weeks hence after the irritation has time to heal.

Less than a week before the appointment - a completely different tooth starts to hurt.  Badly.  Throbbing.  Ice packs to the side of the jaw.  I go to the appointment - he checks it out, and, sure enough - this one is going to need the root canal.  Thing is - he can't go ahead and crown the other tooth, because my bite will be affected by the infected tooth.

So I had the root canal yesterday, and that needs to heal for a week or so, and *then* maybe I can get the damned permanent crown in.

Sigh.  Then there's the phone.  I wrote about needed (well, wanting) a new one).  Ordered it, it came in, and needs to be charged.  There is only one cord in the box, with the mini-usb plug on both ends.  I looked through the stash of wall plugs and find one with the mini outlet.  Let it charge overnight - and nothing happened.  No charge.

Online chat with the company.  That's not a charging cord - it's for transferring information from the old phone to the new one.  Guess what?  Phones no longer come with a charging cord - it needs to be bought separately .  Would have been nice if they had mentioned that when I ordered it (I was told that's it's standard now for phones not to include the charging cord).  My old phone had a different plug so I couldn't use that.  I didn't have anything in my miscellaneous cord stash that would fit.  Fortunately my laptop charge cord did, and I got the phone charged.

Then came the Transfer of Information from the old phone to the new one, for which I couldn't use the included cord because the plug didn't fit my old phone.  I had to do a wireless transfer, which kept bombing out and had to be restarted and took several hours.  When it was done, I could surf the web and play music and do almost everything on the new phone - except talk and text.  That could only be done on the old phone.  So it took a few more hours and three online chats, two of whom didn't know what to do (one of whom said to turn it off, turn it back on, and he would call me back in 30 minutes, after which he apparently went home) and the third one suggested "turn the old phone off" which worked.

This is why I resist getting new stuff.

Meanwhile, the puppet.  I was going to work on him Friday.  I still had the pattern for the dragon puppet, which was the right size and proportion and just needed some modification, so I printed that out.  I had forgotten that the pattern was badly drawn, missing things like labels and match marks, and not designed to fit properly on standard paper.  So it printed out with bits and unmarked pieces and took far far longer to piece together than it should have (as compared to the exquisite engineering of the bird skull pattern).

Saturday I was invited to an SCA "arts and crafts day" and I really wanted to hang out with the nerds.  I at least took the fleece that I was going to use for the mane and got those locks separated out.  By then the tooth was really hurting.

Sunday was the Battle of the Phone.

Monday I worked at the museum; by the time I got home I was in a lot of pain.  I need to make quite a bit of handmade felt for the body (which will take for-bloody-ever but I like the look) but that is done by making a sandwich of wool and bubble wrap, rolled around a pool noodle, and vigorously rolled.  With that throbbing pain I wasn't going to do anything vigorous.

Tuesday I went to the dentist and ran some errands.  I was able to make one sheet of felt in the afternoon but I sort of regretted it.  Wednesday (yesterday) I had the root canal - with the subsequent recoverypain.  Today I worked at the museum again, and went grocery shopping.  I was hurting a lot this morning, but fortunately that is improving and I got one more piece of felt done this afternoon (I think I need at least 9 pieces, at about 45 minutes per piece)

Long story short (which these days seems to be called Tl;dr - for too long, didn't read) not a lot of work has been done on the griffin.

I'll see what tomorrow brings.

  

I'm Sorry - I Didn't Know You Were Tired

 

I'm building the griffin puppet to take to the Infinity Con (I'll be honest - I like the attention I get when I walk around with a puppet, and people talk to me, which is nice, rather than just wandering around like some invisible ghost).  But realize that thinking about the Con also gives me a sense of guilt, which I need to write out (writing gets things out of my head somehow)

The last one I went to with Bob was in June of 2019.  He didn't particularly want to go - this is more my sort of thing.  So he said he was tired.  I didn't really want to go alone, and he didn't particularly want me to go alone.  I wanted him to want to go; he wanted me to want to stay home.  Because sometimes that's how it works with couples.

We went.  That was the first year I took a puppet, my junk post-apoc Lurlene, who freaked the hell out of people.  I had a blast.

Bob just sort of dragged around.  A friend even noticed and commented that he looked tired.  And I shrugged it off, actually a bit annoyed.  Thinking that he could at least act like he was enjoying it.

He was diagnosed a month later.

I'm so sorry, sweetheart.  I didn't know.

The problem is that was sort of Bob's modus operandi.  He took after his mother, who was practically agoraphobic.  I had to pry him to get him to go out.  So we didn't go do stuff very often, because if I'm honest, trying to goad myself is hard enough without trying to drag someone else.  So in a variation of "I had a headache" his excuse would be "I'm really tired."  Sometimes it would be - heavy sigh - "I guess we can if you really want to."  If it wasn't really important to me, I would cave and stay home (if I offered to go alone, he would come with me).  Or I would say I did really want to, in which case he would drag along.

I couldn't help but notice that he was never too tired to go to something like his scale model conventions (usually a day trip to somewhere 3-4 hours away; get up early, drive there, spend the day, get home around 9 - sometimes he went with friends, other times I would go with him) and still be excited when he got home.  Or when he was going to his high school reunions.  The "too tired" was when it was something I wanted to do that didn't interest him.

When you're in a relationship, especially for a long time, you just get used to things (which is why it wasn't until he was gone that I really noticed that he was a hoarder).  So I was used to "I'm really tired, but we can if you really want to" and then him just sort of dragging around (although sometimes when we got to wherever, he realized that is was pretty cool and would enjoy himself, especially if there were dinosaurs, or, at Ren Faires, scantily clad women).

How was I supposed to know that this time was different?  That his bone marrow had stopped producing blood cells, he was anemic, that he had leukemia, and that he really was tired?  He didn't act it at other times (that was when we were still swimming together when I got off work in the afternoons - he would get to the pool well before me so he could get a good long swim in, and we'd go eat afterwards and he'd act happy and energized).

But he really didn't want to be there, so he was tired and dragging and I was ignoring it and enjoying myself, and finally gave an annoyed "Fine!  Can I at least watch the costume competition?  You can sit down for that, and we'll skip the rest of the stuff."

Sigh.  I honestly didn't know.  And I just want to say that I'm sorry.

More Changes; Dream Interpretation

 The pissiness of the last post continued for a few days, with side trips into frustration and depression.

I miss Bob, of course.  Usually I can handle it.  But a couple of days ago I was having my afternoon coffee in the treetops, reading, then found myself crying and trying to bargain with the universe.  What would I have to trade to have an hour with him?  My home, my savings, arm, leg, right kidney, left eye?  Name it, it's yours - just let me share a cup of coffee with him.

A dream helped me work it out.  It was an odd dream, fairly short. All I remember was putting a shopping bag of something in the back of the car.  Pretty sure it was books.  The trailer (the one Bob used to take his jeep to parades, and otherwise we stored the kayaks on them) was hooked to the back of the car.  A woman got in the car and drove off.  I was running after her, screaming, telling her to stop, to come back.  Somehow Bob was there.  I turned on him, yelling "why didn't you stop her?  You heard me yelling - you could have stopped her."  Each time he started to justify it, I would cut him off with more screaming "I don't care!!  Bring it back!!"

Woke up crying and shaking.   It took me until the afternoon to realize the obvious: the woman driving off in the car was me.  I've been taking loads of Bob's books to Rik (who is also interested in military history) as well as to friends of the library.  And Rik is soon getting that trailer.  I mean - it's just sitting out there, with the tires going bad and the deck rotting, but it's got good bones and Rik needs one and will be happy to fix it up.  And it's not like I'm going to be taking the jeep to a parade.  It needs to go.  But it hurts.

And another era has ended.  In the last post I also wrote about needing to have my big release cage torn down.  Bob and I built that, what? 20 years ago.  Two big cages, back to back, the front one with a scratch yard.  Our crippled white peacock, Lord Byron, spent most of his life in there.  He was joined by the first peacock we ever hatched, Bruiser (named for the way she kicked her way out of the shell) when she got old and a bit senile and was forgetting to get into a tree to roost at night.  The back cage has seen dozens of opossums, plus baby armadillos and a couple of litters of foxes, and anything else that needed a private area for awhile.

But Hurricane Michael really tore it up.  Trying to repair it was on the things-to-do-list.  But we got the yard cleaned up, and other damage repaired, and then Bob was diagnosed . . .   So it's been sitting there, quietly rotting.  I have been over the back cage as thoroughly as I could, inspecting every inch - but the two times I've put opossums out there, they've escaped the first night (fortunately they were about ready to be released).  I've still kept it, because for some reason the peacocks liked to hang out in the front covered area.  But I don't have any peacocks anymore.   Monday I call Kenny the demo guy - and he and his crew came today and tore it down.  It will all be dragged off by the weekend.  While I admit that it was quite an eyesore - it will still seem empty without it.  And it's not like I'm fostering anymore - I seem to have lost that mojo.  I've done a few opossums but that's about it.

So, yeah.  Depressed.  But that's not the same as depression.  This is just sadness - and I've got stuff to be sad about, so it's OK.  I even spent some time working on the griffin puppet.  I finally was able to get a vision in my head so it's coming along now.  I'll get started on the body this week.

Feeling Pissy

 I've just been in a sort of foul mood today.  I have plenty of stuff that needs doing - so I sat and flipped aimlessly through the laptop most of the day, following various rabbit holes.

Maybe it's the weather.  It's been unusually nice so far, but the afternoon rains have started and it just felt damp and oppressive today.  And because of the rains, the ants and the palmetto bugs have moved indoors and that war has started.

I'm tired of insects in general.  I'm tired of picking ticks off of myself (although they're finally getting fewer -2 or 3 a day instead of 8 or 10).  I enjoy my afternoon coffee break on the back deck, up in the treetops, watching the hummingbirds.  I would enjoy it even more if I could just drink my coffee instead of having to put it down every couple of minutes to slap a yellow biting fly.

I was going to do the trash run today.  But the rains came early and I just didn't feel like it and what the heck I can do it tomorrow, right?  Around 8 p.m. I finally goaded myself and filled the car up.  It takes me two weeks to fill up two normal kitchen trash bags (one regular trash, one mostly cat food cans).  But I also took a load from the barn and a box of stuff to donate.  I have taken so much out of this house in the last three years, and brought almost nothing in, but there is still endless stuff to go through.

There's just endless stuff to do.  Nothing impossible; heck, nothing difficult.  It's just that it seems never ending.  Currently on the list (yes, I make lists.  Helps keep my sanity, but sometimes I get tired just looking at the list)

Take the brush cutter to the shop to get it cleaned and checked out, make sure I'm getting the correct kind of fuel.  

The yard is growing faster than I can cut it back - hence needing the brush cutter.  Also might help if I actually got out there and worked - when I do, it's amazing how much I can do in an hour.

I owe emails to Jeff and cousin Marty.  I also need to write Jess (animal rehabber) because I was given a young squirrel that we just thought was stunned but a week later he's still having serious coordination problems.  I do not want a pet squirrel.  Maybe she'll have a suggestion.

Contact Kenny (the guy who took down my old tool shed).  The big release cage and pen were seriously damaged in the hurricane.  I've left them up because the peacocks liked to hang out in there.  They're gone, and it's an eyesore.  Hopefully Kenny will be willing to take it down.

Rik wants to buy the old car trailer (we used it to take the jeep to parades).  Fine - except that I can't find the title, so I need to see if I can order a new one.

Replace the circuit breaker.  Rik and his friend took out the dead one from the outlet I use a lot, and replaced it with one from an outlet I rarely use.  Last time I went to the feed store he gave me a new circuit breaker.  Today I spend some time trying to figure out how to turn off the power to the cottage because I couldn't find a master switch.  He and he friend might be willing to work with live wires, but I'm sure as hell not. (Finally figured out that the cottage is on the house wiring, so I just have to turn off *everything*).  Also the screw on the new breaker is so tight that I can't loosen it to put the wire in.  I'll fight that again tomorrow.

My back has been bothering me.  I had noticed that I was starting to trip a lot (and falling is not a good thing, although I rarely actually fall, just stumble).  I noticed that I was always hitting and tripping with my left foot.  I analyzed my walk - I was stepping out with my right foot, and just swinging the left (so it would hit any roots or uneveness).  I consciously altered my walk so that I was stepping properly with the left food.  The tripping has ended but it's messed up my hip.  Must find a chiropractor. (and why are they all on the other side of town?)

My phone is having problems.  It's fine, but a lot of services (I play music on it) are using bigger files and faster streaming, and my phone can't keep up anymore. I got it used, probably 6-7 years ago.  In tech years, that's ancient.  So I have to go phone shopping.  Ugh.

I got a cucumber for salads.  It will go funky before I eat it all, so it needs to go in pickling solution. (Actually, I did that about 11:30 tonight - took all of 10 minutes after three days of thinking that I should do it)

I need to make caramelized onions.  The museum gets produce donated from Costco, but sometimes things are included that animals don't eat, like onions.    People take a few, the rest get thrown away.  That bothers me, so I brought a 10 pound bag home.  Hopefully tomorrow I'll goad myself into slicing and cooking them down.  I love caramelized onions, and I love having a batch in the freezer to toss in whatever.  Just have to do it.

I have to pay a bill the old fashioned way - writing a check, putting it in an envelope with a stamp. Another 10 minute job that's been sitting for a week.

A light bulb in the overhead light in the guest room burned out.  Must replace.

The deck and the front of the house need to be pressure washed.  Getting a bit green.

I haven't had my eyes checked in years, and am having problems reading street signs when I drive.  Should make an appointment.

And all the usual - litterboxes, laundry, clean the back deck (chickens poop a lot).

Nothing earth-shaking, nothing that difficult.  But I just look at the list, say screw it, and go play sudoku or something.

The Infinity Con is a month from today, so I need to get cracking on the griffin puppet (I did work a little on it today).

Dinner at Noon; Another Memory

 I started off well this morning.  I woke up earlier than usual.  Did the usual feed-everybody-else-and-then-myself.  It was cool this morning (the weather has been unusually not hot) so I ate on the back deck while writing up ideas on the puppet project.

Then I got going - the usual clean litterboxes, tidy up kitchen.  Ran the vacuum around, cleaned the squirrel cage and the back deck (where the chickens live now) and changed out the water in the fish tank.  Washed the couch cover.  Took care of a few other things.

Then I was ready to grab a sandwich and head to the cottage to work on the puppet.

I didn't want to.  A storm was rolling in.  My energy had slumped.   What I *really* wanted to do was have a nice quiet dinner, with wine, and go to bed.  So I did.  At noon.  I made some pasta with leftover salmon, a handful of scallops from the freezer, sauteed zucchini in a rich cream sauce and poured the wine.  I ate slowly, enjoyed it, and then went to bed.

I woke up in a couple of hours, felt great, and then I was ready to go work on the puppet.

I can let my mind wander a bit while I wait for paint and glue to dry.  I've mentioned my friend Los before; his wife Ellen died about six months after Bob - 39 years old, pulmonary embolism.  Los's grief therapy is writing of their everyday lives together.  Each evening after work he does a stream-of-consciousness ramble on Facebook of something they did or somewhere they went or friends they gathered with, or what they ate.  Almost three years, and he hasn't missed a day yet. 

I don't do that, but sometimes memories come back to me.  Today I was remembering how sometimes we could just look at each other and communicate, no words needed.  There was that day at the vet - sitting, waiting to go in.  A woman came in with a small sick dog.  Suzie (the receptionist) told her that she was sorry, but the last time she came in her check had bounced, so the vets couldn't see her until she had paid it off with a credit card or cash.  The woman said she didn't have a credit or debit card, and would have to take the bus to her bank to get the money.  Could she leave the dog while she was doing that, so he didn't need to be dragged around sick?

It was a respiratory problem, so no (too much danger to other animals).  It was just sad.  She obviously didn't have much money or a car, and she just wanted to take care of her dog.  Suzie went to talk to the vet, and they agreed to see the dog, and had her go wait with it outside (standard protocol for animals with respiratory problems).

That was when we were called back.  We stood up, looked at each other, nodded, and I went with the vet and Bob lagged a moment to talk with Suzie.  He joined us; a few minutes later Suzie came in, handed him his card back, and gave him a quick hug.

With just a look and a nod, we had agreed to pay both her previous bill and that day's charge.  The woman never knew who did it.  And the only thing he said as we drove home was "I hope her little dog is all right."

I miss that sweet and caring man.

Memory of Oaxaca

 This popped up on a FaceBook memory.  I decided that I wanted to put it here as well.

I was out working in the yard early this morning (before the heat and the biting flies). It's something I enjoy - gets my body to wake up and lets my mind wander a bit. And for some reason I was thinking of a trip to Oaxaca, Mexico, 18 years ago. We stayed at a very small hotel. Breakfast was served to all of the guests, family style, at a long table, which gave us all a chance to meet, talk about why we wanted to be there, sights to see, and make that sort of real, if only temporary, connection. (Although I do remember shaking my head in wonder as Bob translated the menu, which was in English and Spanish, into German for a fellow guest. It wouldn't have amazed me so much if he actually spoke German or Spanish - but Bob could rise to any occasion)

Among the guests were an Asian-Canadian mother and daughter, both artists. At one point the mother mentioned that she was dealing with breast cancer. Later that day, Bob and I were at a museum, and of course had to check out the gift shop. Bob talked with the owner for awhile, and made a small purchase.

The next morning at breakfast we were talking to the artists. Bob started talking a little bit about "milagros." (I'm not going into a long explanation here - after all, it's not my culture - but basically they are small charms of gratitude and blessing and the design can represent the blessing desired). After a few minutes, he rather shyly (for a guy who looked like a 6'5" grizzly bear he was very cute when he was shy), pulled the little box out of his pocket and slid it across the table to the mother. "I have a Hispanic friend who has survived breast cancer. If it's not too forward of me, I'd like to offer this to you."

She held the tiny charm, a blessing from a stranger. Tears and hugs were shared.

He was such an amazing and gentle man. I will always miss him.

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More Random Stuff

 Nine days have slipped by since the last post.  I was writing then about just really missing Bob.  That comes in waves.  I will always miss him - that's a given - but there are times that it's almost crippling and all I can do is cocoon for awhile until I can function again.

I'm slowly crawling back.  Adrianne saw a really good buy on a table loom in Thomasville (the next town over, in Georgia).  She doesn't know anything about looms, so we went together to check it out - and she got it.  There's also a really nice yarn shop in Thomasville so we cruised through that as well.

I almost got myself a new yard tool.  I'm pretty good at taking out the underbrush with a swing sickle - but there's a *lot* of underbrush.  There's a brush cutter in the barn - sort of a scary thing, like an overgrown weed whacker, but with a circular saw blade instead of a string.  It hasn't been used in years, so before I do I'll need to take it to the shop to get the motor checked out and buy the right type of fuel.

And I thought the heck with it.  I'm very fond of my battery weed whacker and my battery mower, so I thought I would get myself a battery brush cutter.  No one in town carries them, so as a red-blooded American, I ordered one off of Amazon.
What a cheap (not inexpensive, but cheap) piece of unsafe crap!  Except for the whirling metal blade, it looked and felt like a plastic child's toy.  It had almost no torque at all, so as soon as I tried to cut anything it slowed way down.  But when I wasn't cutting, the blade went dangerously fast, considering the thin plastic shielding around it.  After experimenting for a few minutes I decided that this was a good way of cutting my feet off at the ankles - so I had to dismantle and repack the thing and return it.  Such a disappointment.  Guess I'll get the gas one worked on.

I finally started work on a puppet.  I've been wanting to make one for several months, but couldn't come up with a vision.  The dragon puppet is such a classic - but I didn't want another dragon.  I'm going to try to make a griffin.  I don't have the whole thing planned yet, but I started on the head and I can think of where to go from there as I work on it.  Rather than start from scratch, I thought I'd check with my favorite cosplay designer (Kamui) to see if she had a bird skull pattern.  Yes, she does - and it's in a packet of patterns that I bought a couple of years ago (it's where I got the skull for my dragon) It's good to have a stash.  Bird head is started.

(While I'm posting pictures, here's a less than stellar one of my new poet's shirt.  I really should get a mirror other than having to use the one in the bathroom.  The color is hard to define - it's gray with a pink cast.  Wearing handkerchief linen feels positively luxurious.  And I'm pleased with the bit of fancy work that I did on the sleeves)

Last, but not least, I went to yet another circus - that's three in as two months.  The first was the wholesome family-friendly one.  That's the one where I almost didn't go because I didn't want to go alone - got my friend Joe to agree to meet me there, but then he fell asleep and didn't make it.   Although at first I felt a little out-of-place because a) I think I was the only person there alone, and b) looking around, I think I was the oldest person there - it was mostly families with young kids.   But I soon realized that I was the only person who noticed these things.

So when it came time for the FSU circus, I had not qualms about going alone.  I enjoyed the show, and Faith was happy that I had come and got to see her perform.

So when I saw that the Cirque Paranormal was coming to town, I didn't hesitate to grab a ticket.  It's the opposite of the first, family friendly circus.  In fact, anyone under 18 isn't allowed in without a parent or guardian, and under 13 isn't allowed in at all.  It a cross between a circus and a haunted house, and R rated.  And a blast.

Would I have liked to have someone to go with?  Sure.  But that doesn't seem to be what's happening in my life at the moment, and I'm not letting the circuses pass me by.