BANGNABBIT!

Of all the holidays, the Fourth of July is my least favorite. First of all, do you call it the Fourth of July with capital letters or is it really the 4th of July? I could google it but I think I'll wait to finish this blog and then decide for myself what works the best for me.

The Fourth means NOISE and lots of it. Around here, most of the revelers cross the state line and go into Vancouver to purchase their arsenals and bring them home in the backs of their pick-ups next to the cases of beer. Then they spend the afternoon building platforms to hold the giant firecrackers or m-80s or whatever they're called. After the barbecue is over, the little kids are allowed to twirl around their sparklers and other "safe" fireworks before the Big Bangs begin.

This is when the BIG NOISE starts. My husband and I like to go to bed around nine o'clock for some reading time but find this nearly impossible for all the whizzing, whirling and huge bangs going off.  We've usually just come home from the party our  friends throw and are no longer interested in even thinking about the watermelon or strawberry shortcake that is served before the "show" starts. We just want our bed and our books.
My husband over worries about stray firecrackers landing somewhere on our property and starting a fire. (I actually think this is a ridiculous worry but I don't say anything about it.)

And then most of the neighbors stay up late enjoying the beer they bought earlier and loudly calling out patriotic greetings to one another.  It isn't until somewhere between ten and eleven that things start to quiet down when we can begin thinking about turning out the lights and settling in for the night.

I'm the one who worries about the pets who have been cowering under the dining room table or sent to an unfamiliar friend's house to ride out the fun together.  Their dog chooses to cower under the friends' bed so the dogs don't even take a chance on comforting each other.

The Fourth of July is a fun day even for us but it can be dangerous.  There are always a few who blow off fingers or otherwise stupidly hurt themselves. The only other time this happens is on Thanksgiving  when some poor cook burns her hand, arm or fingers taking the enormous turkey out of the oven.

So Happy Fourth of July! And I do mean that sincerely.  Just BE CAREFUL! Oh. And by the way, I prefer to call it the Fourth of July and not the 4th. 

Summer Fun

Hmm. . . .rat-a-tat with my fingers. I'm thinking about summer. It's a season much loved and eagerly awaited in Oregon. The rain lets up for a while and we can actually go outside without wearing our hoodies and we can wear flip flops all the time. So let's consider summer.

Actually, summer is not my favorite season. It gets way too hot in August whether you believe in climate change  or not. I hate the heat. Pretty interesting when you consider that I live in an air-conditioned home. The problem with that is that my husband thrives in the heat and prefers to have all the windows and screened doors open so the heat can permeate the house. I don't like the way the air feels when the thermometer goes above 72.  To me, that means it's time to shut all the doors and windows and hunker down in the cool of  the family room and let the ceiling fans do their thing along with the air conditioning.  Now that's comfortable. This air-conditioning v. hot air debate has produced an uneasy and a somewhat ugly truce at our house.

And how about summer clothes? I don't think that any woman over 60 should wear shorts. Just sit in the grocery store parking lot for a few extra minutes and watch those cellulited, varicose veined legs go by.  Not a pretty sight, folks. Same goes for tube tops. You have to be about 14 to look even half way good in those crazy things.  And swimming suits? Never again unless you're in the physical therapy pool.  If you're somewhere near water wear some lightweight capris and a comfortable t-shirt with some sparklies of some kind on it.  

The much acclaimed summer food even gets tiresome after you've eaten too many fruit salads containing too many chunks of watermelon. You're perfectly aware that the hostess is serving this to get rid of all the extra watermelon her frig will hold.  Here's where I plead guilty. I do the same thing.

So get out your bug spray, your tanning lotion, your favorite shorts and tube top and enjoy the weather. If you get a mosquito bite, put an x on it with your finger nail and then spit on it. The itch will feel better for a few minutes. And as for  me, I'll be holed up in my cool house reading a good book.

The No Name Entry

I'm not sure how to put these thoughts all together in one neat package with an obvious theme that runs throughout the narrative but I'll write it out and you see what you think about how all the ideas relate to one another.  How's that for passing the writing buck?

First: This is the month for Mother's Day. I remember the very first time I bought a Mother's Day gift. Every Saturday my Dad gave my brother and me a quarter to spend any way we liked and because we loved the dime store called Sid's located next door to the super market where my parents did their weekly grocery shopping, Sid's is where we headed. We looked at lots of fabulous things that we just knew our mother would like and ended up getting the beautiful paper plates and cups that had pink flowers on them. We hid them under her bed. She didn't tell us that she could see them every time she went into her bedroom.  But she didn't let that spoil our nearly unbearable excitement when it came to presenting the gift. And, of course, she loved it.

Second:  I have what I'll call a keepsake book on my desk. It's one of those small albums full of so many blank pages that they could never be filled with diary or journal thoughts. So I keep stuff I like in it.  Examples:  a letter written from my grandmother to my parents dated Dec 30, 1966, several poems cut out of The New Yorker that are still just as good as the first time I read them, a photo of my mentor teacher Ernst Lau, lots of pictures of my grandgirls, the magic glasses I wore when I looked at the eclipse of the sun in 2017, and an account of our trip to New Orleans.  There's lots of other stuff too, but let's not get too boring. (But do men keep these sort of books? I don't think so.)

Third:  I remember parts of a lecture I gave to my Humanities class that had something to do with how certain things revolutionized cultures and societies.  I don't know why this has come to mind so much recently. Think about how certain tales of yore landed in our culture.  Beowulf  was most certainly a tale told around the campfires of old. Those tales preserved our culture and are still studied today as examples of historic literature that revolutionized how we write stories.  And the invention of glass made it easier for early warriors to see the approach of an enemy. Plus Shakespeare!  WOW!  What he did for our language is astounding!

So how do all those thoughts relate?  I'm not sure but I think it has something to do with memories.  Oh, come on, Terry. . .duh.

                           
                     Why Is It April Already?

Here are some random questions that have popped into my mind for one reason or another and I thought I'd share them
hoping I might get some answers:

Who "styles"  Donald Trump's hair?  (I often ask myself this question.)

Why is Finnegan's Rainbow so hard to read? 

What happens to those cute, live, baby chicks after Easter?

Was Elvis really a good singer?

Why do teenagers stay up so late?

Why is movie popcorn so expensive?

Why don't people chat on elevators?

Why does gum lose its flavor so quickly?

Why don't more people recycle?

Why are there so many old "People"magazines in doctors'offices?



Do you have your own set of ongoing questions?

OOPS!

Sorry. I'm a day late on my blog.  March just sneaked up on me so I'll set that straight right now.  (And, yes, "sneaked" is the correct usage here.)

Books. They are an integral part of my life.  I get a tiny bit desperate if I don't have at least a small stack of them just waiting for me to crack open.  Sometimes I smell the pages especially when the book is new. I always read the inside cover information to help me decide if this or that book is a good choice for my reading needs. I never read the ending before I get to it.  That's cheating.  My reading is a sacred part of my life so I keep it pure.

Where to find books. The library is a good source, of course. We have a good library here in Oregon City and I visit occasionally just to see what new books are featured. If my stack of books is too low, I might check out a book or two just to maintain the stack. But they have due dates and sometimes I like to really linger over an especially good book.

The only place I visit at the Mall is Barnes and Noble. I can buy a book or three and start reading one while I enjoy a cup of coffee at their indoor coffee shop. Then I go home.  There is nothing in the rest of the Mall that interests me. I've done all the shopping I need to do in my life other than what I buy on the internet.

The absolute best place to buy a book is at an independent book store. A good one will have a wide selection including one for children. The clerks are friendly and helpful. Soothing music plays in the background. The store smells like new books. It looks happy with its round and square display tables that you can walk around at any pace that suits your looking quota.

You can buy your books online which I do occasionally and you can trade books with your friends which is another favorite source of my reading finds. You can listen to books on tape. 

I know I haven't mentioned all the ways and places to find books. And I can't help but tell you that sometimes I simply leave books in public places like restaurants or rest rooms hoping someone will just pick them up and enjoy them.

But my main message here is simply to encourage you and others to escape to other worlds and times just by opening a good smelling book that you acquired in the way you prefer to find your reading adventures. Happy reading!

(I hope the recent changes for bloggers has not interrupted my need to get some of my ideas out into the world.) 

Snow Day

As a retired teacher I still go berserk when the possibility of a snow day occurs. My behavior can only be described as manic. And the mania starts the night before when I remain fixed on the TV channel that most consistently predicts snow. It's difficult not to switch back and forth between channels so I just do it. Sometimes two channels predict snowfall at the same time so my excitement leads me to wondering if we should go to the store and get some much needed items such as donuts or deli roast beef.  I check to see if we have some good cheese and maybe there's a can of tomato soup hidden behind the cereal boxes in the pantry. After all, what's a snow day without tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich?

Off to bed.  I get up once or twice to use the bathroom but really I'm trying to see if any flakes are visible. If they are, a little inward dance of hopeful joy begins as I head back to bed.

And what I find to be the most interesting part: I get up way earlier than I have ever done in either my teaching or retired days and once again glue myself to the TV.  I am watching the trailer at the bottom of the screen as it lists the school closures for the day. Oh, please, please, please, and double please.  At least we can have a late start.  Those days make the work day fun and thrilling because the schedule is off kilter and so  many people are absent. I rush to create a lesson that will be enjoyable, teachable, and easy for the absentees to make up,.

OH MY GOOD AND GLORIOUS FORTUNE! The heavily hoped for announcement trailers on the TV! No school!  And I look outside as daylight arrives and stare gratefully at all the white I can see from my living room window. The streets are covered too, so little traffic is heard except for spinning tires trying to get out of driveways. 

Of course, I hate to actually go out into the snow. It's too cold and then too wet and then too exhausting and by noon at the latest I start watching for the snow to melt so I can get back to my regular comfortable schedule. Retired teachers wait just as hopefully as working ones.  We have things to do and we want them completed before the snow day totally upsets our weekly goals and plans. I begin to watch the thermometer in my back yard hoping things will warm up fast enough so I can get to school. Yes, teachers are still weird about snow days even when they are retired. 

Close Out Sales!! Hurry! Sales End at Midnight Tonight!

(Browsing through Craig's List and the newspaper early this morning we found the following provocative ads:)

For sale:  50 sealed boxes of fresh air!  Perfect for when climate change overcomes your personal space!  Half price at $20.00 per
box!

Free to the first 199 entrants! Parents, these are going fast so sign up NOW for your child's 24 hour device free experience. Includes a vegan lunch and a guided tour through the city park.  Adult supervision provided. Plenty of time set aside for free time and creative play at the playground. We will sleep under the stars in cozy sleeping bags stuffed with unprocessed fleece. Again, hurry on this one!

Mary Jane's Main Street Mart is offering 50ml of hemp CBD shots free with the purchase of any bong in the store.

Tickets go on sale this Friday for City Park's Concert featuring Mick Jagger and Yo-Yo Ma performing on the same stage. Ticket prices range from $150-$346.99 with all proceeds being donated to the Save All Sounds of Classical Music Foundation.

. . .and the most curious and interesting ad of all found in the local Arts and Entertainment section--

A truckload of slightly used President dolls will go on sale after the Government Shutdown is over.  These life-like dolls come complete dressed in a blue suit with an extra long coat which helps to hide small hands and a big posterior. No need to style the hairdo since it is permanently sprayed to the head. Press a button on the doll's forehead and hear fake news using the words "terrific," "witch hunt," and "wall" over and over again.

After that last ad, we retreated to the kitchen for one more cup of coffee made with water of nearly the same color. Sigh. We wonder "what next" for 2019.

RED, WHITE, AND GREEN

I am still working on what to choose as a topic for the holiday season.  I can come up with a few ideas and Pat tried to help me out, but all the ideas seemed to be so over-used and trite that I rejected them all. So I've decided to write about a few things I DON'T like about the holidays.

Here's one:  Hallmark movies on TV.  These are predictable and all alike. A young woman lives in a small town or comes to stay in one that is picture perfect and covered with the just the right amount of snow. She has a problem to solve that includes an introduction or reunion with  an unbelievably handsome young man and they solve the problem together.  At the end of the movie they discover they are in love and you see them kiss each other for the first time ever as the bland holiday music plays in the background.

Another thing I don't like about the season are the bell ringers that stand outside Fred Meyer.  I don't want to make eye contact with them because I don't want to drop change into the little black pot and I feel guilty about it. When I leave the store, I suffer from the same guilty feeling.  As the month of December goes by, I finally force myself to make a contribution a couple of times and then I feel a little better. 

Holiday music on the radio drives me crazy.  I quickly get sick of hearing songs such as "I saw Mama Kissing Santa Claus" many times over as I click on my car radio.  What is even more irritating is that I get that song stuck in my head and then hum it all day long until "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" or some other jolly tune takes its place.

The joys of making Christmas cookies are untrue. The only good way to pull this off is to make the cookies when you're all by yourself in the kitchen and nobody's home. I've put in my time having fun with the grandkids making and decorating bells, trees, Santas, and snowmen.  This activity takes up at least twice the time you plan for and ends up with absolutely the largest and most difficult kitchen mess that involves scraping frosting off the oddest places in the house such as on the toilet handle.

And then as the season ends and I spend the hours needed to take  down all the Christmas decorations, I think about all the things I've enjoyed and feel nostalgic that I have to wait another whole year before we get to do it all again. Go figure.

   

I love to read.  I remember when I badly wanted to learn to read so when I was in kindergarten, my teacher Miss Daisy (isn't that the perfect name for a kindergarten teacher?) kept a few of us after school and introduced us to Dick, Jane, Spot, and Fluffy.  Oh. Can't forget Mother and Father. Soon enough I began figuring out how to read words on my own.  My parents didn't seem too impressed but they didn't need to be because I was so proud of myself and so happy to be in this new world of words and books.

The adventures in reading began. In third grade, we got to go to the library and check out books that we could actually take home. Mary Poppins became a favorite grown-up and my cousin Patty read Winnie the Pooh to my brother and me. All those characters became real.

Junior high and high school years didn't lend themselves to much leisure reading but I still made time for recreational reading.  I saw Romeo and Juliet in Ashland when I was 15 and was hooked on Shakespeare. I carefully hid the plays under my desk and read them while my Modern Problems teacher talked in the front of the room about something important.  Her subject  couldn't have been near as intriguing as the spells cast by the witches in Macbeth or as sad as what happened to Lennie in Of Mice and Men. 

College left no time for leisure reading but what we read in literature classes captivated me. Everything from Beowulf to my favorite poet e.e. cummings became reality to me.  

After college, I started teaching literature myself so I got to spend many more hours exploring those other worlds in books. I think I read Hamlet at least a dozen times.  Interestingly, I declared in my early 20's that I wouldn't read  Hamlet until I was 30. I smugly figured I could get by without that famous Dane in my life until I was the age of Hamlet himself. I made it and still received A's in my English lit classes.  

I read everything now but I have to say that I'm glad I don't have to read student essays anymore. The Great Alone was much better and held my attention for hours.  

I highly recommend that you read that last book mentioned. What a story about life off the grid in Alaska with strong characters who battle their way through some ugly life events. I still read the newspaper on the few days we still receive it. And not one back of cereal box has gone unread in this household! 

What I Can't Write About

At first, I thought it might be a good idea to write about something related to grammar use such as it's and its.  In the olden days when people actually wrote letters, essays, and sometimes even poems, we had to know the difference in the use of these two words.  You'd get red  marks on your papers if you used them improperly.  That would be almost certain to bring up some painful memories of some English teacher you didn't like so I decided to leave a grammar lesson alone.

Maybe I could write about Michael Jackson.  Wow! He was so darn cute when he was young but then he went through all sorts of physical changes that are hard to describe except for the one my sister calls "the time when Michael Jackson really wanted to be Diana Ross."  But you can't deny the fact that he danced as if he had magic feet. Remember the fun you had when you tried to moonwalk? That was always great for some laughs at family gatherings.  But rule out Michael Jackson for a topic. You'd be hard put to omit a comment or two about his strange lifestyle. 

Hey!  I've got it!  FOOTBALL!  After all, the season is upon us.  Just try driving I-5 south or north around college game schedules.  You'll see for yourself how popular this sport is as you count the cars flying orange or green flags. And you'll have to remember which cousin likes which professional team so loud arguments are avoided.  I've had football games playing in the background of my weekends all my life but I still don't know what it means when the referee (or is it the umpire?) grasps one wrist with the other using what looks like an up and down motion. And I can NEVER resist mentioning how barbaric and dangerous the game is and how much it reminds me of slaves being forced to fight well-equipped soldiers in ancient Rome.  Boy, do I get the ugly looks from that.  So football won't do for a topic.

Lastly, I can't write about the Supreme Court or any nominees who might surface from the oily cesspool of current politics.

Okay. Maybe just a couple of remarks.  One: Republicans aren't what they used to be when they were a real political party.  Two:  Can two people be lying and telling the truth at the same time?  And, three:  Why do we feel so powerless about what's going on in Washington, D.C?

Maybe I should just stick with the it's versus its rule after all.    

  

KItchen Time-NOT!

I've spent 50 years preparing food first by helping my mother with her family cooking and following up with cooking for my own family. I just have to share a few examples and some random thoughts about what food means to me.


First of all, I'll just come out and say it:  I'm tired of the kitchen. Every evening I put  together a simple protein meal accompanied by a fruit and a vegetable. It's fairly easy and if Pat wants anything else, he prepares it himself. 

Furthermore, I am no longer interested in fixing holiday meals.I broke the news early in the year that we are going out for Thanksgiving, joining close friends (thanks, Penny!) for a Christmas morning brunch, and planning other holiday events around easy potlucks. Such a plan will avoid the sticky discussion about who will join whom for the special meal and I won't have to ever again try to make the Norman Rockwell scene of the family being served the just perfect turkey. Too, my house will stay uncluttered with crumb free counters and the ugly dead carcass in the refrigerator. No  more turkey soup for days on end.

In my early years of working with food, I pored over recipes in women's magazines and began collecting cookbooks until I couldn't fit them into regular kitchen space.  My first cookbook was The Hate To Cook Book  by Peg Bracken. It is now held together with rubber bands and paper clips and I can't give it up. I kept a few others such as Peg's other books and one or two others with titles like Five Ingredient Recipes and 100 Crockpot Recipes. I also have a 3-ring binder loaded with recipes I've received or stolen from other people. That's it. The whole collection fits on one slim shelf in my pantry.

And here's my cooking confession:  I fed my kids baby food from jars found at the grocery store, bologna sandwiches and Doritos for lunch, and dinners with iceberg lettuce salad or even the horrifying "fruit" salad made from Jello! All I really needed in my pantry was instant rice, a can or two of cream of whatever soup, some frozen vegetables and an occasional banana or apple. I served all this with fried cube steak, fried chicken, or spaghetti made from sauce that included fried ground sirloin (read hamburger). Guess what. . .we're all alive and successfully passing by organic foods with each visit to the grocery store.

So here's a little test for you. And if you can get 100%, I'll share a box of See's Candy with you.  

Identify and/or describe the following: 
1. kohlrabi
2. pomegranate molasses
3. castelvetrano olives
4. piment d'espelette
5. cotija cheese

I found these items in a local paper and a woman's magazine so don't think I've gone all snobbish and read one of those gourmet magazines. I still prefer one pan meals that can be on the table in 20 minutes.

P.S. Just sayin'- my family all sat together for the evening meal and were often joined by the kids' friends who marveled over this ancient eating custom wondering where we kept our TV trays. 

Another Health Journey

The journey has lasted over a year. It began with heedless changing of anti-depressants and, I hope, started to end yesterday.

All of my readers (I think I have as many as eight) know that I was diagnosed late in the Spring of 2017 with major depressive disorder after seeing a slew of doctors. I finally ended up with a reputable, solid, and most likable psychiatrist who was the one who offered the diagnosis. Then we were off to figuring out which meds would provide the most relief.

We carefully tried some combinations of a pinch of this and a a dab of that and ended up with two different anti-depressants and one mood stabilizer. So along with my heart medications, I have a handful of pills that I choke down morning and night. I began to feel some better but am still working with some depression and a boatload of anxiety.

 My world has diminished to a very small comfort zone just as I started to contemplate a thrilling trip to somewhere fun, beautiful, and exciting. Ireland? Italy? Maybe one of those scenic river cruises where you can float by fancy castles on the nearby hills and take a cooking class along the way as well? Truth is, my travel radius has narrowed down to about five miles, ten on a good day.

Then the trembling and shaking and overall weakness along with stiffness and a new and unsightly walking posture made getting around even my own house began. And so did despair. Mornings became nearly unbearable and I didn't really relax until late afternoon or evening.

Last week my psychiatrist threw her hands up in the air and declared there would be absolutely no more med changes until I saw a neurologist. She found me one who specializes in movement disorders. Have you guessed yet?
                                  Parkinson's disease!

I saw the neurologist yesterday. We were with her for well over an hour and she did several tests and eventually she shared her diagnosis of  Parkinson's disease. It is not curable but it is treatable. I have lots to learn about this oddball disease. You can ask Google about it yourself, if you're interested in details. I've already ordered books. There's even one called Parkinson's Disease for Dummies!

And, yes, I am shocked.  But I feel more relief than anything else. 
I started the new medication yesterday and the doctor expects that I will feel better within two weeks. My household feels as if a triumphant celebration is occurring even though we are certainly aware of the seriousness of this disease. I will not die from this; I'll die WITH it. Strange words and a strange way to end this blog but I feel happier and more encouraged than I have in months and months.

Here's To Happy Health!

The time has come for me to share with you that I have finally gotten relief from the hell I suffered from Major Depressive Disorder. I capitalize those letters to add emphasis to the serious pain caused by this not all together understood ailment.

You might recall that I started experiencing symptoms of depression and anxiety after going through some distressing family problems last winter. The symptoms only became worse after trial and error with medications that only made the downward  spiral more dramatic. By summer time I was barely able to leave the recliner let alone the house.

Then I finally found the right doctor who put me through careful paces to come up with the right combination of meds. It was a slow process but things started to swing in the right direction about a month ago. I feel strongly that I'm on the right track. The symptoms have subsided to a very low point and I can almost say they're gone. I say "almost" because I know now that I am "hard-wired" to experience anxiety and depression and will stay on meds for the rest of  my life. There are still a few things that are hard for me to  do. For example, handwriting doesn't come easy for me anymore. It's easier to type.  For things that need to be handwritten, I have to get help, but that's no big deal. 

Altogether, I declare myself happily on the path to being my cheery self again thanks to my own diligence and that of my good doctor.

Remember: Be ultra careful with your medications no matter what you take. Know everything you can about them. Also, always be proactive about your health asking every question you can think of when you make any visit to the doctor. You are ultimately the one who bears the most responsibility for your health.

Good-bye, Kristi!

Kristi Lechner passed away early yesterday morning. She was near to being a perfect human being, as far as I can say. Her hair was always in place, her stylish clothes were from the best stores. She was in every which way appropriate for whatever the occasion called for in dress and demeanor.

Above the level of appearance, Kristi had a kind heart. She was on the shy side which many people didn't understand. She had a good word to say about each person in her realm. She was generous and understanding.

Kristi's handwriting was excellent. Whenever she sent me a memo or a card, I always studied her brand of cursive and thought about what a good student Kristi must have been from the time she entered the classroom until she left it at retirement. 

This was a woman who truly understood how school politics worked. Think back to her "good word for everyone" policy.  It worked so well for her as she spent all those years as an effective leader at OCHS.  It was not possible to discern her prejudices, if there were any.

She had an instinct for understanding her students to their very cores. I don't think she forgot a single one of them in 30 years of teaching. I never heard her say, "Oh, I just can't  remember her name." She knew every time. She also graciously passed on hints about the best and worst things about students we'd receive from her classes so we could best serve them.  

She loved to go out to lunch on in-service days. Her classroom was always tidy and tastefully decorated. She kept meticulous to do lists.  She was on time for everything. She took everyone at his or her word. She participated in student activities with dedication and energy.

Whenever we were out and about, she always left first because she wanted to get home to Lance so he wouldn't miss her. They were devoted to each other.

All of us will miss her forever. 

Depression, Doctors, and Drugs

(I need you to know right off that I have omitted doctors' names and exact dosages of drugs mentioned in case any of my readers are even remotely connected to depressive disorder. It is so tempting to self-diagnose or to diagnose for a loved one. The internet is ultra-loaded with information about the treatment of depression and it is hard to resist self-medicating. In addition, I want to remind you to be careful about willing acceptance of what doctors have to say. Sometimes they are wrong. Question them politely but thoroughly before you follow their directions for medication. I believe that I was given reasonable advice but that the advice was not appropriate for my personal situation .Be careful with your health. It is truly the best thing you have.)

Notes from my log:

6/16/17-Bad night with wakefulness and bad anxiety. Woke with feelings of doom and gloom. EXTREMELY shaky.No appetite. Unhappy.Took a xanax around 4:00. Anxiety calmed down a bit within 20-30 min. But noticeable brain zaps, sluggish  movement. 

7/7/17-Up at 7 feeling shaky and full of dark mood. Jittery at breakfast. Decent appetite. Felt better after a long nap. Less shaky. Not horrible in p.m. Arm relaxed a little. No xanax today.

8/1/17-Shaky, moody wake up. Started my daily stint in recliner in the middle of  the a.m. Pat brought me a small lunch and I slept most of the afternoon. Small dinner and a restless evening on the couch watching TV with Pat. Cannot get comfortable.

8/21/17-Eclipse day. I cannot forget this day because this is the day I noticed I was feeling better. The improvement was only slight but doom and mood were both a bit better. My appetite is back!

9/11/17-I definitely feel better. Meds have been adjusted one more time and another one added. Doc said I'd feel better within a week and I did! Doom and gloom are GONE. Totally gone. I do get extra focused on things but not to a point of anxiety. And I can dial down my racing thoughts with some effort. Love feeling happy.

10/1/17-Am declaring myself nearly well. All that's left is shakiness and slow motion movement. Those symptoms do present some problems. I can't write very well and typing is slow with many corrections needed, for example. But I am dealing with the problems.


I am currently under the care of an excellent psychiatrist and a neurologist who is working on my shakiness. This is still a bit of a mystery but we'll figure it out. We're also still working very conservatively on my meds and making good progress.

My message to you is that I caution you once again to question every medication you take whether prescribed or over the counter. Be proactive about your health. Nobody cares about it as much as you do.

Granny Then, Granny Now

When it was then I was a Granny who supplied the bubble box which became the frothy lake Mary used to let the Fisher Price Wee People swim around in while she enjoyed her bath. I was a Granny who taught both grandgirls how to make Play Doh bird nests with eggs and birds in them. I pushed kids skyward in their swings for what seemed like hours. Alicia and I played store on her little patio table and we used bark chips for money. Mary and I "played dogs" with stuffed ones or pretend ones most of our times together because dogs were her favorite things. I stroked Alicia's arms and back at nap time and watched her drift off to sleep.  One time when I was on the bed beside her, she curled her little self against my chest and went to sleep with a little happy sigh as a fresh spring breeze wafted  over both of us from one of the season's first open windows. We played Barbies endlessly. Remember Boobs Clea and her sister Boobs?  They left us by means of a garage sale along with the  books we read (good-by, Bing!  So long, Spot! We won't forget you, Otto!). Some other lucky girls are arranging furniture in the doll houses that moved away. Puzzles, games, Lite Brite sets and all manner of art supplies and projects are gone, gone, gone. 
But the fun things at Granny's are still at Granny's. What happened at Granny's stays at Granny's. She's not ready to give them up.

Now that it's now, Granny gets hugs and writes checks. And these are truly satisfactory things to do. But teaching Romeo and Juliet to Mary was amazing. It was a goal of mine to be the first person to present Shakespeare to her and I barely made it. I was just a few weeks ahead of her English teacher. And witnessing Alicia's passion for dance has stunned me with the chance to watch a person pursue a physical activity with the same energy that I pursue reading. 

The pleasures of Grannying are different now but just as fulfilling.

Getting Clean

DISCLAIMER:  This entry is about my personal experience with prescription drugs, i.e., anti-depressants. You need to know that there is no medical or scientific expertise involved at all. I did use the Internet as an informal research tool, but I caution you not to diagnose a physical or mental problem on-line.  Contact your doctor with even the smallest question and, just so you know, I kept in fairly consistent contact with my primary care physician. My caveat-BE CAREFUL with any medication you take whether it's OTC or prescribed. They can be dangerous if not used with precision.

I began taking anti-depressants during my dad's final illness and eventual death in 1988. I started with xanax (an anti-anxiety drug) and finished with a variety of anti-depressants on June 4 of this year.The decision to get clean of them started last winter when I sensed that my then current anti-depressant wasn't working for me. This was due no doubt to an extreme family crisis and a family member needing serious abdominal surgery on an emergency basis. Between March and June I went on and off  five different anti-depressants looking for the magic one that would help  me keep my nose above water as I made my way through this dark family time. I was in regular contact with my doctor. But. Make that BUT. I'm not so sure that either of us was really paying close enough attention to what was happening during this process.

Here's what happened plain and simple:  1.) acute side effects followed by 2.) ugly and tortuous withdrawal symptoms. Curiously, these two conditions can present themselves in similar fashion so it becomes difficult to know when (and if) one is beginning and/or ending. Confusing, huh? You have no idea. Trembling, shaking, brain zaps, weak muscles, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, inability to focus, racing thoughts, obsessive compulsive behavior, and anxiety supreme.

So why did I put myself through this pain? Duh. I needed mental and emotional relief from family strife that was overwhelming me. I'm a fairly tough person and have been through some life challenges in the past but for some reason (turning 70, maybe?) I have not been able to ride out this period of stress and challenge. When I finally realized what was happening, I figured out also that it was much too late to retrieve myself from "discontinuation syndrome."

As of today, July 4, I am beginning to allow myself some hope that I will eventually recover from this horrid experience. I don't know when or even how long it will take, but I will keep on keeping on. I have an appointment with a neurologist/psychiatrist in ten days. In the meanwhile, maybe one day really soon, I'll begin to feel a twinge of improvement. Right now things are still difficult.

And guess what? NEVER, EVER, EVER take even the most seemingly innocent prescription drug without a serious discussion with your doctor. And talk to your friendly pharmacist about any OTC drug you might feel you need. You have my permission to use my experience to make your case. And be careful with the Internet. Just because you read it on-line doesn't make it true.

I'll update my progress next month. Wish me luck.

Things I Thought I'd Never, Ever Do

 1.  Get up at night to go to the bathroom.
 2.  Stop driving at night.
 3.  Play cards every day.
 4.  Call family members by the wrong names.
 5.  Talk to every baby I see.
 6.  Read Lee Child books.
 7.  Take a nap every day.
 8.  Hum along with songs from the 50's and sometimes even the 40's.
 9.  Not like walking on uneven surfaces.
10. Drive around looking for the closest parking spot to the door.

Life is different at 70.

Trump For Breakfast

Yesterday as I was eating my breakfast and reading about Trump's First 100 Days, the cereal box caught my eye. Somehow I strangely started to compare it to the Trumpster himself. Yes, it's weird, but follow me for a minute here. It was a box of Honey Bunches of Oats With Almonds which happens to be our favorite cereal. The box is a graphic success of blue and white lettering featuring a bold blue circle with a spoonful of cereal depicted under it. It is bright and attractive enough in a carton sort of way. A list of ingredients can be found on one side of the box. It is about 15 lines of small print. The first half notes the grains, flours, and sugars used. The last half lists vitamins and minerals included and the middle line reads "BHT added to package material to preserve freshness."
In other words, the product is highly processed. The whole package including the box with its list of ingredients and contents reminds me of Donald Trump who embodies his own highly processed brand of something that claims to be good for consumers.  Hmmm. . . .

Later in the day, another kitchen consumable reminded me of Trump. This time it was a cellophane wrapped package of stir fry vegetables containing yellow, green, and red pepper slices, zucchini rounds, mushroom slices, broccoli florets, onion slices, and celery pieces. Period. You can easily identify the ingredients without reading a list of them. No additives, sugars, flavorings, or preservatives are used.  There were, however, two stickers on the cellophane. One said "stir fry" and offered an idea for preparation. The other said "5$." The package and its contents were straightforward, informative, and honest.  To me, it represented the leader this good country really needs.

Food and Trump? It was a weird stretch of my thought process but I venture that it represents how much of my brain time is currently spent reflecting the absurdity of this crazy man and trying to make sense of him.

Maybe he isn't worth the effort.

MEMO

                                                          MEMO

TO:  Everyone In The Whole Wide World

FROM:  Americans in the USA

RE:  Global Status

We are still here. We still care.
Our status as a world leader is definitely undergoing a change, but we are still here. We care about the environment.  E.g., our Alaskan neighbors living near the North Pole might be relocating their villages soon because the melting ice is threatening to end their lifestyle and culture.
We don't all agree about the cause, but we are capable of working together to solve the threat to our land and people. We are supportive of our children's lives and futures. We wonder about a need to spend more on defense than on education. We care about our senior citizens and know that many of them need adequate medical attention. In fact, we are very aware that each of us, old or young or middling, deserves good physical and mental care.
We are still here.
Most of all, we know that "fake news" and "alternative facts" are not the truth. We can tell the difference between social media life and the real life of global friendship and the possibility of world peace through making connections with each other all over the world. Watch us stand up for ourselves and for all people everywhere.  
We are still here.
We still care.