Wednesday, June 27, 2012
So yesterday I was at the airport, ditzing around, thinking I had plenty of time to get to the gate, when I heard an announcement that it was the very last call for the Las Vegas flight...and I saw the flight number they called on my boarding pass. I still had a very long way to my gate. I took off running in a panic.
However, not even panic could give me any real ability to run. I couldn't keep running for very long, not even if it meant missing my flight. So I tried to walk fast, gasping and panting. I finally made it to the gate and gasped out, "Am I too late?"
The kind lady informed me that I must have misheard the flight number, and I still had plenty of time. I just about collapsed. I think the poor lady thought I was going to burst into tears. Instead I thanked her and staggered to a chair. My mouth was so dry I couldn't stand it and managed to get to the concession and pay $3.0o (!) for a small Diet Coke - a small treat for me, because I almost never drink even diet drinks anymore.
Then, once I stopped panting, the coughing started. I coughed so hard and so much that I was afraid I would engender lots of hate from my fellow passengers. However, that too stopped shortly after we were in the air. My lungs were clearly protesting the unaccustomed exertion. Then I had to take pain meds, which I also almost never do, because the arthritis pain from the pounding on my hip was so bad.
Well, I do try to exercise, but it is always walking because the arthritis pain precludes running...but the whole thing surely brought home how very badly out of shape I am. :-(
Thursday, June 07, 2012
OK, usually my peach trees, which I overwhelm with total neglect, do produce peaches...but usually every single peach has one or more nasty little white worms, and usually most of the peaches have bad spots, etc. And even then I have too many, and I spend more hours than I like to think about peeling, cutting out bad spots, slicing, etc. I usually make at least one batch of jam, and freeze most of the rest. Some get eaten, mostly by me, since two of my three kids don't care much for peaches, and the third doesn't eat too many.
This spring, probably because we had a good bit of rain, which is most unusual for this area, I had a bumper crop of peaches. They are smaller than usual, but sweet. I have spent days and days and days peeling, slicing, etc., when I could make the time. Now I am totally overwhelmed. I haven't yet made any jam, nor even frozen any. I have just eaten peach after peach. After peach. And almost none of them have worms. A very good crop. A bumper crop.
So far I have given away 73 (yes, I am keeping track), and peeled, sliced, and eaten over 200. And quite a few hundreds left to deal with.
They are delicious, but I have to say that one can have too much of a good thing, especially when it comes to eating them. I am almost to the point of saying that I never want to see another peach!
On the bright side, I am getting well over my five servings a day of fruits. :-)
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Today I got to spend time with some really fantastic people whom I am proud to call my friends. Somehow spending time with friends, listening to their struggles and telling them about mine, really brightens my life, even if our respective situations are quite unpleasant.
So, even though I had to drive from York, PA to Kensington, MD, to drop off my son at a friend's house, and then turn right around and drive back north to southern Jersey, I didn't mine. Seeing friends is worth any amount of trouble.
Unforrunately, my healthy eating is kind of on the back burner. It is tough to eat lots of veggies while travelling and eating most of one's meals in restaurants.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
When I was in graduate school many years ago, one of my fellow grad students used to refer to life as 'this sadness.' I never really thought of life as a 'sadness' then, nor later. I have always found life to be generally full of blessings and I try to cultivate gratitude.
But right now, life is truly seeming to me like a sadness. It should be a happy time. I am away from home in the DC area, with two of my kids, to attend my sister's wedding. But the trip has been nothing but sad. I have been told that I am not welcome in my mother's house. Not by her, but by her caretaker. She thinks that I cause my mother to be anxious, to not sleep well, to be unhappy, etc. Now, my mother has Alzheimer's disease and is elderly. But she certainly acts very happy to see me. We spent the last night we are ever going to spend in her house last night, when said caregiver was away. I asked her how she had slept and she said very well. She looked and acted as well as ever.
But the caregiver rules. I understand that. She is able to take care of my mother, and my mother, though her disease isn't terribly far advanced, has to have a caregiver. I am not able to care for her. I live very far away. So, the caregiver gets what she wants. I do understand. It just breaks my heart, because it means that this wedding will be the last time I see my mother in this life. I can't afford, financially or emotionally, to fly across the country to stay in a motel and see my mother for an hour at a time.
What is even worse is that my sister and I had major words over the whole situation, and that made her even more stressed than the wedding itself made her. I have apologized, but the damage is done. She probably thinks I have ruined her wedding - and it has definitely been spoiled for me. That doesn't really matter - my feeling about her wedding is unimportant. But it does matter if she is miserable at her wedding. The whole ugly situation is very sad.
Then today, I visited a dear friend, the mother of one of my high school friends. She and her husband were like an aunt and uncle. They were always, always so good to me - and still are. But he has dementia, far worse than my mother's. And he has physical issues also. He can barely walk with a walker and he falls easily. His wife has taken care of him by herself for years, and she has realized that she simply cannot do it anymore. While we were visiting, he did fall, and she couldn't have gotten him back up without my son's help. She is doing the right thing - but it is SO hard and SO sad. My heart breaks for her, and for him.
Meanwhile, my daughter stayed behind with her father so she can attend her baccalaureate mass. I don't blame her for making that choice, but I miss her, and she is having a tough time. So I am sad for her and for myself.
Sadness is and should be a part of life. But I have been hit with an especially big dose of it right now, and I am struggling.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
My son returned from a semester abroad (in Rome, to be exact), and he returned with gifts. The honest truth is that most of his gifts were in the form of chocolate candy. Now I have the world's worst sweet tooth. And he gave me five of my very favourite chocolate bars in the whole world - Cadbury Dairy Milk Caramello. NOTHING like the Cadbury bars in this country, which have been contracted out to Hershey. Hershey's chocolate is all right, but British Cadbury is just so much better - and of course Caramello is the best of the best.
So, the net result is that I have been eating tons and tons more candy than usual. I was just dreading seeing the scale. The one I have at home is incredibly inaccurate anyway, so it's hard to tell whether you have lost, gained, or stayed the same. But today my daughter had one of her regular Botox appointments and of course they weigh her and take her blood pressure. So I asked if it would be OK if I just weighed myself also and the tech said fine. Not only had I been eating way more sugar than usual, but I had also eaten breakfast. Normally I am so obsessive I make sure to weigh myself on an empty stomach, preferably first thing in the morning.
So I was just blown away to find that I weighed a whole pound less than the last time I got an accurate weight! I know it's not much, but when one is expecting to have gained five pounds, finding that one has actually lost one is a BIG, BIG deal. I am very happy!
Oh, and my lovely daughter had lost seven pounds. So she was even happier than I was. Plus we decided to hold off on the Botox for three more months, which made her happier still. Not so much me, since I think it helps her. Still, overall a very, very good day!
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