BANG!!! BANG!!! BANG!!!

 Happy New Years Day!!!

I've decided to celebrate New Years Eve in one of my favorite small towns:

 To all of the friendly people I met in Charlottetown, PEI so many years ago!

It's 11 minutes to midnight. The excitement is palpable.

I can't wait!

Cheers!

And Auld Lang Syne and all that crap!

Happy New Years from Prince Edward Island!

Found the perfect ancestor.

                                            Sadly, she isn’t ours.

Silence Badd married Jonas Belcher.

Silence Badd Belcher. Was she predetermined to be a murderer? Did Jonas stop belching?

To Gina Forkel:

Gone too soon!

EUREKA!!!!

 Two short weeks later, I finally have an appointment for my biopsy. Thursday, October 7^th (or something like that) I go to Loma Linda University Hospital – Murietta and then all the fun begins.

Been there, done that. Wasn’t an amazing thrill the first time around, and I don’t think it will be any more uplifting this time.

A week later, I have an appointment with my oncologist to go over the results.

I would love to say I am on pins and needles, but I’m not. I’ve seen the blood results. While it will be good to hear, one way or the other, I am not getting all Pollyanna here. As a wise man told me many times, “It is what it is.”

I’ll keep you updated!

Don't call us, we'll call you

 I'm pretty sure that is the motto of the Southern California Medical Establishment.

I've heard that three times in the last eight days. (Okay, not verbatim, but I knew that is what they meant). I've heard the phone ring over and over and over as I waited for someone to answer. I left a message that was never returned.

Being sick is not for the ill. It is too much work.

So, I wait. Anyone want to play Tiddlywinks?

Speaking off the cuff

In case anyone stumbles on this without the knowledge, all appearances are that my cancer has returned. My oncologist gave a grim outlook, but there is still a biopsy required. But the are only going to check one of the four masses in my lungs discovered by a PET scan.

As a six-year survivor of stage 4 lung cancer, this is no great shock. As Wayno used to say, “I am a dinosaur!”

I think it is fair to say that I have brought this on myself. I’ve looked desperately for other culprits, but they can’t be found. So, I guess I have to shoulder the responsibility. Another post I may argue other weights, but not today.

Today was fraught with medical experiences. I got a phone call fairly early. I’m not sure who it was or where she was calling from. The gardeners were going crazy outside. So much noise. I had to close the door. I should have said “Let’s start over”, after I closed the door. But I didn’t.

Seems I had to have bloodwork done ASAP. And I had to get the PET scan on DVD.

So, I spent the morning at Quest Diagnostics, having gallons of blood drawn. Then I drove down to Temecula Valley Imaging and spent over an hour waiting for the CD. Loma Linda University Hospital – Murrieta was quick and easy.

I was exhausted when I got home.

Tomorrow will be another adventure, I am sure.

Well, ain't this a fine, "How do you do?"

 100°

Fall my ass!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!

 

Miss you like crazy. Although, it's possible you would be saying, "I told you so."

Radar Alert

 HIGH FLYING DUCKS!!!

Be worried. Be very, very worried!!

I saw it out of the corner of my eye

 I said to Karla. “Ain’t that Billie Jean out there eating the parsley plant?”

‘Why, ya. Sure think it is.”

I went outside and calculated the casualties.

I’m afraid we are now parsleyless. This is not the first plant she has ruthlessly attacked.

On the bright side, Billie Jean’s breath is fresh!

Friday the 13th

Okay, why does a Friday have a bad rep?

How about Monday the 13^th? Ain’t that a crap day?

Just another day

Karla and I celebrated her birthday today. Yesterday, she was out and about with Sarah and Ellie, Savannah and Andrew.

So today, Karla’s first celebration this morning was to go to her church to count offering. She got home just in time to whisk me off to my oncologist in Hemet. Not to worry, all indications are that I am still alive.

Then the real fun began. We rushed off to Soboba Casino to have fun! $25.00 each and thirty minutes later we left. Actually, I spent $30.00.  Got to count the cocktail!

Then to lunch at what has become our favorite restaurant: Texas Roadhouse. It’s not so much that Texas Roadhouse is really great, it’s just that most of the rest are really bad. Texas Roadhouse does have pretty outstanding margaritas. And I’m pretty sure they serve food.

And now, Karla is resting and I get to change the litter box.

Wow, just a thrill a minute!

Yee Haw San Marino!

Nyles Mazem Anine has won a bronze medal in wrestling.

Let’s put this in prospective. San Marino has 5 athletes at the Olympics. They have three medals: 60% of their athletes have made it to the podium.

The largest contingency at the Olympics is the United States team at 657. America also has won the most medals at 90. But if they had the same per centage of medalist as San Marino, the US would have 394 medals.

Chew on that for a moment or two!

San Marino does it again!

 This time it is a silver medal in mixed team trap shooting.

Congratulations to Alessandra Perilli and Gian Marco Berti!

Fun Olympic fact

 San Marino’s Alessandra Perilli won a bronze medal in trap shooting. This was the first time San Marino (Population 33,860) had won a medal at the Olympics.

San Marino is now the smallest country to win an Olympic medal.

GO SAN MARINO!!!

Oh, and Happy 133rd Birthday

 Grandma Gertrude 

(I wish you were here to celebrate! 

(And I wish I could find a picture!)

News Alert!!! News Alert!

 

Doomsday Comet!

On this date in 1862, the Swift-Tuttle Comet was discovered by Louis Swift. Horace Tuttle saw it three days later.

It has a 1 in 10,000 chance of colliding with Earth in 2026.

I don’t know about you, but I am canceling my summer 2027 vacation!

Stay tuned for further updates!

It’s National Macaroni and Cheese Day!

 Let there be dancing in the streets! Party like it is 1999!!!

(No vestal virgins required… good thing. They have gotten to be prohibitively expensive!)

Eat well, my friends.

Relationship update

Not that kind of relationship you fool. It’s more that Billie Jean is starting to kind of act like maybe there are times when she is not figuring out how to kill me and still get fed.

BJ often guards the bathroom door while I am in there. Lord only knows what horrible ogre might attack me without her being a sentinel. I feel so safe.

This morning I heard Billie Jean in the bathroom, using her litter box. Trust me, she can smell up the room and the hallway like, well. You know. I chose to not go too close for a time. I finally came out of my room and there was a big cat, taking her best St. Bernard pose and asking, “You won’t protect me because?”

I stood there in surprise while she berated me and said horrible things about my ancestry. It was an unpleasant conversation.

I walked past her to go to the kitchen. She swatted at me as I passed.

There were no claws out.

Is that love, or what?

Sorry for the brief hiatus

 

But it was spring planting time at the new homestead.

I hear you. It was truly summer. But early summer and I’ve never been a big fan of reality. And I live in a home with an atrium, so I am better than you!

It started with transplanting two azaleas and a lavender plant. Lavender died due to a botched transplant, but she has been replaced by Lavande. Lavande is French Lavender and she looks very happy. The two azaleas were transplanted to a new box I purchased just for them. They were unhappy in the atrium due to lack of sunlight, but now the are content and being azaleaish!

Then I planted:

                5 hostas (4 are up)

                2 astilbes (1 is up)

                3 Begonias (2 are up)

                6 Caladium (0 are up)

                3 Irises (0 are up)

                6 Gladioli (0 are up)

                1 Black Eyed Susan (0 are up)

 

Every day I am excited to see what more has sprouted!

 Oh, and if Karla says I am crazy, she means it in the nicest way possible!

 I was going to add pictures, but my phone and my computer had an argument, so have to wait until cooler heads prevail.

A neighbor sent me a text

Okay. That isn’t a big shocker. Mary sends out texts frequently with newsy items. What I liked about this text was that she referred to the entry way to the condo as an atrium.

Totally awesome!

I’ve never lived in a home with an atrium. It sounds so snotty. I have to find have to find me some really high-class friends now that I have an atrium.

I am so cool!

108°

Yesterday, Portland, Oregon broke its all-time high temperature. Hottest. Day. Ever.

The former record was 107°, recorded a couple of times, so one degree is not a shocker. The Northwest traditionally gets miserably hot for a handful of days during the summer. But usually that is later in the summer, say July or August. I feel for the poor people sweltering away.

But here is the kicker. Today’s forecast high for Portland is 115°. Monday’s is 115°. Makes the predicted highs for the Upper Hood River Valley seem cool. Only 105° today and 106° on Monday.

Needless to say, this weather is unprecedented. In the 31 years I lived in the valley, I only know of one time it his 100° in the Upper Valley. But my records are purely haphazard, so they must be taken with a grain of salt. This would be hot weather for Phoenix.

To all my friends in the northwest, I am sweating for you.

In the Quiet Morning

 I sit on the back porch. The sun is up and shining brightly, but it has yet to start serving its obnoxious heat. And in truth, it isn’t quiet. With the legions of crows and ducks and song birds, there is a peaceful cacophony meeting my ears.

Southern California.

I left here 34 years ago vowing never to come back. I had a strong dislike for this place, particularly for the Inland Empire. So, isn’t it ironic I find myself back here and actually like it? Hmm, what has changed?

When I lived here before, it was in central Riverside, walking distance to downtown. While that sounds good, I seldom did. There was no reason to go downtown Riverside. Nothing there.

All of Los Angeles’ smog was funneled through Riverside and San Bernardino. Air quality was horrible! I was commuting 40 minutes each way to a graveyard shift job for scant pay. I had little spare money.

I was in a bad relationship. It was not the best of times.

Now, I am about 25 miles south if Riverside in the heart of Sun City, California (not to be confused with the inferior Sun City, Arizona). Technically speaking, I am within walking distance of downtown Sun City. There really isn’t a downtown Sun City (a dated, half empty strip mall takes its place) and I can’t walk that far now, but technically speaking…

 There are mountains or hills or whatever you want to call the big clumps of dirt and rocks to our west that block the worst of the pollution. I am ‘retired’ so there is no frustrating commute to a low paying job. I can easily live within my means.

My relationship with Karla is good. Okay, I snap occasionally. She may speak unkindly of me at times, but all in all it is good. And I have spaces (small) to garden, and lots of space for potted plants. Content.

It ain’t Hood River, but I am making do!

Meet Bettie Jean

 

I first met Bettie Jean at the local Lowe's. She was a bit scraggly and ugly but a good price. She is a Scarlet Knight Rose. I noticed I was bleeding at the check-out counter. I feared she was closely related to Billie Jean, but bought her anyway. Foolish mistake!

Later, as I was thinking about what to name it, my thoughts rambled to Petticoat Junction, one of the 1960's sitcoms best forgotten, but it had Billie Jo, Bobbie Jo and Betty Jo. My mind digested the information.

Then I got home. I re-read that it was a Scarlet Knight Rose. Well, the State University of New Jersey (Rutgers) are the Scarlet Knights (oblique tie in to Richard). And there was this emotional good-bye to the Nachtwacht on Rembrandtplein the last time Richard and I were in Amsterdam. I had my picture taken hugging Rutger tight!

So, I was tossing and turning and torn between Bettie Jean and Rutger. Today the rose ripped me to shreds again. Rutger never hurt me.

Bettie Jean it is.

She is sitting in her new home pot, but I am afraid to transplant her!

Happy summer!

I always forget it if the summer solstice is the one with the vestal virgins and volcanoes, or the one where you sit on your back porch and smoke a bowl.

I chose the latter. Volcanoes are a long drive from Menifee!

North Bend, Oregon

Three dead, suspect armed and dangerous.

My old home town. Sleepy, soggy North Bend. This isn’t the burg of my memories. Forty some odd years ago there is a good chance I would have known people directly impacted.

I ache for the victim’s families.

When will this madness end!

Happy Juneteenth

Transcript of the Emancipation Proclamation

January 1, 1863

A Transcription

By the President of the United States of America:

A Proclamation.

Whereas, on the twenty-second day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two, a proclamation was issued by the President of the United States, containing, among other things, the following, to wit:

"That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free; and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom.

"That the Executive will, on the first day of January aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the States and parts of States, if any, in which the people thereof, respectively, shall then be in rebellion against the United States; and the fact that any State, or the people thereof, shall on that day be, in good faith, represented in the Congress of the United States by members chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualified voters of such State shall have participated, shall, in the absence of strong countervailing testimony, be deemed conclusive evidence that such State, and the people thereof, are not then in rebellion against the United States."

Now, therefore I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, by virtue of the power in me vested as Commander-in-Chief, of the Army and Navy of the United States in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and government of the United States, and as a fit and necessary war measure for suppressing said rebellion, do, on this first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and in accordance with my purpose so to do publicly proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days, from the day first above mentioned, order and designate as the States and parts of States wherein the people thereof respectively, are this day in rebellion against the United States, the following, to wit:

Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, (except the Parishes of St. Bernard, Plaquemines, Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James Ascension, Assumption, Terrebonne, Lafourche, St. Mary, St. Martin, and Orleans, including the City of New Orleans) Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia, (except the forty-eight counties designated as West Virginia, and also the counties of Berkley, Accomac, Northampton, Elizabeth City, York, Princess Ann, and Norfolk, including the cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth[)], and which excepted parts, are for the present, left precisely as if this proclamation were not issued.

And by virtue of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States, and parts of States, are, and henceforward shall be free; and that the Executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.

And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend to them that, in all cases when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages.

And I further declare and make known, that such persons of suitable condition, will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service.

And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God.

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty three, and of the Independence of the United States of America the eighty-seventh.

By the President: ABRAHAM LINCOLN

WILLIAM H. SEWARD, Secretary of State. 

I'm gonna get Billie Jean a job!

 

She'll make a fortune as a phlebotomist.

Mystery: Part Two

 Max used to speak of the DDDs.

I didn’t believe his prattle. He was a cat after all. All cats think all dogs are the devil incarnate. But then, he did get along with Ralph and Trixie quite well. And he was the second cousin once removed of the devil; he knew things that were dark secrets, unknown to the rest of creation.

Anyway, Max spoke of these evil beasts. Fiends that lived in the bushes and terrorized neighborhoods. The DDDs.

They would do all the normal neighborhood dog crap: knock over the garbage cans, sully the sidewalks, trample through the gardens and rip up plants. But they were more sinister. If you had a favorite wild animal, they would leave the corps at your door. They had the ability to scorch the earth. They are even capable of giving you memory loss. And they hate friendly cats. (Don’t worry Billie Jean and Duchess are safe. I worry for César and Augustus more.) The DDDs are evil, evil creatures.

So, I gave Satan a call. After an friendly  interrogation by his assistant, I was suddenly speaking with him. I told him how much I missed Max and hoped he would give him a snuggle for me. (Max was in solitary confinement at the time for his foul language.) I told the devil the situation.  He turned to his computer. A few taps and he turned back to me.

“I am so sorry, I do have DDDs in your neighborhood. I must have an old address of yours. I will call them off immediately.”

We chatted for a while and said good-bye. I updated my personal information with him and all was good!

The neighborhood has been saved!

Photos of the carnage

 

The scene of the crime with the mourning Allen family. The matriarch and eldest child are gone. As is the aloe custom, the deceased is covered in red with its roots showing. The eldest son is unmentioned, as some believe he may be the killer.

The Alvarez's are in mourning also. Mrs. Allen and Mrs. Alvarez were sisters. The loss is almost overwhelming for this clan.

The Inlaws and the Outlaws also mourn. There are relations by marriage and that kind of thing with the Allens, but it still kicks them in the gut.

And Ambrose and his family. He moved away to the front porch long ago. His mother is gone.

He was unable to go back for the service.

Mystery: Part 1

 It was a dark and stormy night…

Who am I kidding? This is Southern California. There is no such thing as a “stormy night”.

Okay, it was a sunny morning before it got too hot. I went out back to kibbutz with the plants. All were well until I got to the Allen family (aloe vera plants in one pot; tight knit family). Mrs. Allen had been ripped out by her roots. Her death came as a devastating shock to the entire aloe community. The Alvarez’s, the Inlaws and the Outlaws and Ambrose all mourned with and tried to comfort the distraught Allen family. (The aloe community is quite large.) Not only did they have to cope with Mrs. Allen’s death, but the eldest son was missing. Something foul here. Trauma in the aloe world.

 The entire flora community feigned remorse for the Allen's loss, but some of them refer to the aloes as low-brow trailer trash. I mean, they are easy and they do procreate like rabbits on steroids, but I feel that there is some specie-specific prejudice involved.

So, to cut through the soap opera, something had broken off a good chunk of the aloe! Too big of a chunk to be anything that I have ever seen on the back porch.

Perhaps a crow on a midnight carousal accidentally broke it off? That is possible. Yes, I am sure that is it.

Then later as I was sitting on the deck playing on my computer when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of an animal. All I saw was the rear end of a black creature. My first thought was that Duchess had gotten out. That isn’t true. My first thought was Max had gotten out. Second was Billie Jean. Third guess was Duchess. It wasn’t Duchess. Shortly later I saw the neighborhood rabbit dart from the area where I saw the black beast.

I know! I know! The rabbit is the black, vicious monster I saw. He has a black, furry body-suit that he hides in the woods and he strips it off and innocently hops around the neighborhood. Yeah, that’s it.

Then two evenings later, I step on the back patio and to the left there is a dead bird on the tiles near the entry to Karla’s porch. There are three small birds that visit me often. Their visits are always fun. I’m not positive, as their visits were always brief and social distancing and masks and all that, but I think I recognized the feathered being. I haven’t seen the trio since

Who would do such a thing? This was definitely a homicide. Sweet little birdie was injured mortally in some savage attack. I didn’t have a clue.

Then Karla told me she’d seen a glimpse of the black brute.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. My body tensed. Many of you are aware that my late cat, Max was the second cousin once removed of the devil. I know of things that most people don’t.

Devil’s Disturbed Dogs… the DDDs for short.

You’ll understand my terror in a moment.

It is officially summer in Southern California

Excess Heat Watch turns into Excessive Heat Warning. I’m not sure the technical difference but I am sure some mad scientists somewhere knows the formula, but they are sworn to secrecy.

It’s 8:30PM and 93°. Warning: I’m not gonna whine! I think I got this figured out. Take care of the outdoor plants early, then sit back and relax in your air-conditioned condo. At some point go back out and turn on the fans and the misters. Makes it almost pleasurable and it waters many plants. The entry just needs watering in the morning. It doesn’t get as much direct sun.

But it is hot enough that it bothers my breathing. I have to be very careful outdoors. I am one of those people they are warning. Bummer being of unsound health.

Excessive Heat Watch!

 

Yep, that is the official weather forecast.

It is officially whining season. It is 10AM and 80°. Need I say more?

I would watch the excessive heat from the comfort of my air-conditioned condo, but I do have to care for the plants outdoors. They ain’t gonna wander to the local watering hole by themselves.

I am done with my morning devoirs. As soon as the back porch is in the shade, I have some plants that need to be repotted, then a light watering in the evening.

The plants have me tied around their little leaves.

I may never be able to leave home for more than an hour or two at a time again!

RED LETTER DATE!!!

 

After 11 months and 1 day we are at 10,000 miles. And note the 133.6 mpg!

    Good car, good car!

I've spoken about the garden, but have ignored the inside plants

 Three live in my bedroom.

Marilyn

Lipstick Plant: I’ve looked up “Lipstick Plant” on the internet, and none of them look anything like Marilyn. But Wayno told me she was a lipstick plant, and I choose to believe Wayno. There is so much garbage on the internet these days! When I was a kid, you could believe everything you read online, but now you have to sort through the crap! Marilyn moved with him from New York City to Yakima to Hood River. She is the sole survivor of Wayno’s house plants. So, you understand when she took Ill last fall, I was sad, it tugged at my strings to see her suffer. I actually thought she had passed. As I was cutting her back for disposal, I noted two tiny specs of green. It’s a miracle! Marilyn survived. She’s not the robust plant she once was, but she is growing. Marilyn is a survivor!

Marilyn Manson

Lipstick Plant: Well, if Marilyn is a lipstick plant then so is Marilyn Manson. He is nothing if not his mother’s son. Marilyn Manson and Pho have struck up a close friendship. One is seldom seen without the other. Their gender bending ways give them an esprit that is hard to describe. Marilyn Manson and Pho take turns taking care of Marilyn.  A very tight cadre.

Pho

/

Species Unknown:When I bought it is was called a Faux Palm. It traveled with me from Oregon. When we first moved to California, Pho (Pronounced like ‘faux’) bleached some of its fronds blond to blend in with the hip lifestyle of the Inland Empire. Then it decided it was non-binary and asexual. I’m not sure why my house plants have such confusing personal lives. Yes, Pho got some shit over her announcement in the flora community. There was some open hostility in the outdoor community. It decided to move inside the condo and it has thrived. Pho’s growth in the year+ in SoCal has been amazing. All its blond fronds are gone and it truly seems happy sitting in the window, watching little old people toddle by. They have a strong support group, rooming with Marilyn and Marilyn Manson.

Another day

I sit, reflecting back on an oddly undisturbing day. I drove our still unnamed car to the dealership for its “ten-month checkup”! WHOA DOGGIE!!! That is one of those events you anticipate for what seems like an eternity.

The morning finally comes. You have to decide if you are going to go through with the appointment or throw yourself off your balcony. You live on the ground floor. The ground is well mulched. Yes, you could hurt yourself, but after Karla bandaged you up, you would still find yourself driving to the dealership in far-away Moreno Valley.

So, I took unmamed car in for its check-up. There really were no other options. When I made the appointment, they told me it would be two hours so I was prepared with a book and a bottle of water. When I arrived, they were swamped. But a young man greeted me shortly. I could tell by the sparkle of his eyes that he was grinning. He told me he loved my mask and thanked me for giving him a smile and he said Lauren would be out soon. I have to admit that simple greeting made all seem cool. (Thanks again, Trudy.) A couple of minutes later a woman came out, introduced herself and said that Lauren was busy, but that she could get me checked in. Check in went quickly and efficiently. When I asked about the two-hour estimate, this person was apologizing left and right, but it would be three hours. She gave me options; they had drivers who would take me anywhere, or they had a tv lounge I could sit it.

She was good at her job. I was oddly calm and went into the tv lounge. There was a novella playing. Soap operas in Spanish aren’t my thing. But across the drive, dappled in sunlight was a cement bench. It wasn’t a warm morning so the sun sounded wonderful. The bench was surprising comfortable considering it was concrete. The curves worked for me. I spent an hour and half reading a great book that Karla loaned me, enjoying the sun.

But my amazing paradise sunk into shade and I went inside for warmth. I found that if I sat in the back of the lounge, the novella didn’t distract me and all was good. About an hour later, I decided it was warm enough outside and went back to my little paradise. At 1PM exactly may car was pulled up right in front of where I sat.

I went inside. Lauren greeted me and said she was just finishing up my paperwork. The woman who checked me in came to Lauren’s station and made small talk, and the dude who first greeted me joined us. We talked. About the book I was reading. And how do you find time to read? We focused on things that are unifiers, intentionally or not.

A totally bad day was actually okay.

Are these drugs good, or what?

Okay, this is important

It has to be said, and I need to say it.

I suffer from depression. I am an intelligent, moderately educated person. I have always believed that mental illness was just that; an illness, a disease to be treated. And yet, when it came time for me to say “I am depressed” aloud, I was embarrassed. At first, I couldn’t do it. I would be humiliated to admit I had one of “those” illnesses. Kind of like saying you have AIDS in the 80s.

I have to fight the stigma. It is a difficult fight. As much as I know by intellection that a disease is a disease, there is an unnatural disgrace that runs deep, even in me, with regards to mental illness. I fully understand and yet I understand nothing. I remember Dr. Foster in Hood River asking me if I was depressed. I laughed it off and said “I have a right to be depressed”. She prescribed me a medicine that she said would give me more energy. I read the fine print. It was an antidepressant. I took it and pretended it was just for ‘energy’.

Maybe I deserve to be depressed, maybe I don’t

But as I said, I suffer. I have been prescribed a new drug that is lifting the defeatism of the last part of my life. I actually enjoy doing things again. Things are far from perfect, but they are getting better. Just admitting to depression, saying it out loud to a medical professional and saying it to myself is starting to revitalize my life.

If anyone who reads this is, or knows anyone who is depressed, please there are professional trained to help.

Suffering is unacceptable!

Karla and I did a staycation

 Ariah had a water polo game in Orange County. Annie and I made a vacation of it. 

It was fun!

Today's garden.

 Woke up this morning to a project.

In the living room was an open box that soon would become a raised metal planter. I put it together quite easily. Piece of cake.

Then a trip to the nursery, and voilà! A new garden.

It's not done, but I am done for the night!

It has a vague resemblance to a garden

 Meet Harry

Muhlenbergia Grass: Harry is a native grass in the eastern and central areas of the United States. He tolerates drought and is not fussy (per the Missouri Botanical Garden). If they are wrong, there could be issues. In fall he shoots out beautiful pink blooms (thanks to MBG for that info.) Harry is about to start his second week with me. 

He has the unfortunate trait of attracting a large domesticated house cat who chews on his greenery, then spit it all back up. You will discover this when you step in the mess with a bare foot. Bad large domesticated house cat! Bad large domesticated house cat! Please note; I am using the term “domesticated” sarcastically.

"To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow"

 I was surprised to learn that the title quote is attributed to Audrey Hepburn. I never would have guessed, but I've come to understand that she loved time in her garden.

It makes me think of marigolds.

Wayno always had marigolds. I don't remember the exact story, but one year at his birthday in NYC, 6 out of 10 guests at his soirée brought him a marigold. (Use your imagination). Every birthday after that he received a peck of marigolds.

At Wayn's wake, everyone was given a packet of marigold seeds that he had saved, with "To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow." printed on the outside. It should be noted that to the best of my knowledge, not one seed propagated.

Tucked in a little nook in my garden.

Salut, Wayno!

June 1st, 2021

 Time wanders. So do I. Umm... where  was I going?, And any clue what I planned to do when I got to wherever  it was I was going? Come on people, I need all the help I can get!

I am on an antidepressant. It has a name, but I don't remember it. Qu'elle surprize! However  I admit to feeling more of my old self, instead of the miserable invalid I had morphed into. Now this wonder drug does have a couple of side effects. #1, it will put you to sleep. Be in bed before you take it, as there is a reasonable chance you won't make it to bed if you dawdle. #2, it increases your appetite, thence making you less of a skeletal creature. 

I am addicted.

What a week it has been!

 Where do I start?

With me waking up on the floor in the wee hours of the morning on Monday with no idea how I got there?  Four times. (Just a guess here, but I bet gravity had a part in it.)

 Or do I start with the woman I encountered three times during the "check-in" process, who was forced to be alone, even though she spoke no English, only Punjabi?

Or do I start with the chronic shortages the hospital had, from beds to vials to wipes to god only know what?

Or do I start with the three and a half hours I spent in bed "M", in the halls of the ER?

No, I start by giving credit where credit is due. There are amazing people who are going above and beyond the call in the medical field. There is the man from housekeeping (my term) who sang as he cleaned. And he sang beautifully. There are the three RNs who's "station" was at the foot of my bed in the hall. I heard things that made my hair curl. Like the were working six 12 hour shift a week. There was my nurse Tuesday morning, who when I asked for a cup of coffee, said "We don't serve that here". She walked in two minutes later, handed me a cup of coffee and said, "We nurses have a stash!"

I am so glad for the way I was treated.

I know you all want an update on NCAA Women's Basketball

 I know there are a couple hundred teams in NCAA Division I Women's Basketball. But only two matter! 

The Jacks are ranked #23 in the nation. They are a tournament team for sure. I wanna hear you all jumping up and down and screaming 

"GO!!! JACKS!!!"

I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!

And of course the Ducks!!!! Good team. Young. I miss Ruthy and Sabrina and Satou. But it is okay. The Ducks are ranked #12 in the nation.They are a tournament team for sure. I wanna hear you all jumping up and down and screaming

 

"GO!!! DUCKS!!!"

I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!

Like a virgin!

 Going thru a carwash for the very first time!

Gives me goosebumps just thinking about it!

The Sound of Mary Tyler Moore and Cicely, too

It’s been hard. Losing Cloris Leachman, Christopher Plummer and Cicely Tyson so close together.

More sunsets!

 

Colors were better on pic #2 than it shows. But I am falling in love with those distant palms!

I've been shot!

 

I guess I am one of the sickest people in beautiful downtown Sun City!!!

How much more humiliation must I endure!!!

Sunset

 

Mac’s shopping adventure!

Those of you who know me well, know that I am nothing if not a consummate shopper. My shopping abilities are second to none. I am the one who goes out for one item, say a jar of mustard. Three hours later I return with a container of cottage cheese, a rubber mallet (to keep my other one company) and a new plant. Oh, and a bottle of vodka.

Today was different. I did a Lake Elsinore (aka Lake Oswego) run. For those not in on the lingo, there is a dispensary in Lake Elsinore, California (Lake Oswego is in Oregon) and I am announcing that I am headed out to buy some pot when I say “I am going to Lake Elsinore/Oswego”. I am happy to be the mule for anyone who would has the dinars! (Remind me to tell you about my experience with Dinars.)

Today was slightly different. I also went to Costco in Lake Elsinore. I Had an appointment to have my eyes examined. It went like silk! 40 minutes later I walked out with a year’s worth of new contacts. I walked back in to do some additional shopping (reference the vodka mentioned above).

It went of without a hitch! I was so damn proud of myself. $65.00 worth of booze and I strolled out of the warehouse together. But there is the $1.50 hot dog meal. I couldn’t resist, although I have to admit I felt a bit odd pushing a shopping cart full of ‘adult’ beverages thru the line to get a hot dog, but somethings are just worth the embarrassment.

I toddled back to the car and deftly stuck to booze in places where the bottles wouldn’t rattle. (Remind me to tell you about the time one of the bottles broke. I Still have scars on my tongue!) I went and sat in said car and ever-so-carefully put the mustard on the dog. Perfectly executed! I was getting a little cocky by this point. I usually would have mustard on me by now.

It was a beautiful day in Lake Elsinore; I decided to open the windows. The amazingly well-mustarded hot dog sat on my lap. Now because the car one of those hoity-toity vehicles, I couldn’t just roll down the damn window. I had to pretend to start the car. That necessitated me lifting a foot and placing it on the break pedal and leaning forward to push the appropriate button. I am proud to state that the procedure was a total success. That is unless you count the streak of yellow across my shirt.

Okay, I only had one stop left and that was the dispensary. Come on! No budtender worth their keep would notice. Or if they did, they would think it was like, totally cool.

So, I eat the dog and take a sip of ice-cold Pepsi. The glass slips.

I jump out of the car (can’t help but chuckle at the thought of me “jumping out of a car”). The seat is actually pretty okay, and there are napkins in the car, so all is good from that angle. But you know, I look at my pants and think to myself, “This looks like an inside job.”

Oh, and did I mention “ice-cold”?

I told the budtender, "I had a little fight with my lunch. My lunch won. Don’t rub my face in it"! He didn’t.

Oh, and Gert! Thanks, they all know me by my duck mask! So, I can’t hide!

It has been an amazing day!

 First, I completed the New York Times crossword puzzle. 5th day in a row!

Yowsers!!!

The one the New York Times game "Spelling Bee", I reached the genius lovel..

Amazing!!!

And then I got a new president and vice-president.

Relief!!!

Life is difficult

 

When you are an adorable kitten!

Among the things I found yesterday…

Was something profoundly personal. Richard and I went to Ireland in 2007 (I think). We had promised to go to Europe every other year. But Richard was ailing and afraid that waiting for 2008 would be a bad choice, so we decide to sneak it a mini-trip to Europe. One week in Ireland.

It’s not a thing that can easily be described.

We made more trips to Europe, but this one was different, more desperate. More real.

And until I read this, I had forgotten the possibility of joy in adversity.

This writing, appropriately enough was the founding for this blog. I forgot the send it to my sisters.

So “Sleeping With Saints” owes its existence to Ireland.

Ireland.

Our week is over. The plane was boarded in Dublin. It touched down in Shannon and Newark, throwing its passengers to the wind. Twenty-four hours later two weary travelers disembarked a jet in Portland, Oregon. Real life begins once more. Ah, but the memories, the highlights. So many highlights.

Richard would tell you of the Book if Kells at Trinity College, the intensely moving tour of Kilmainham Gaol, the fascinating visit to St. Augeons Church. He would describe the streets of old town Galway and the amazing train ride back to Dublin; talking politics with an Irish barrister and the wife of an official of the United Nations.

Richard would be sure to point out that while we had precious little sunshine, we also had remarkably little rain. He would talk of great foods; from traditional Irish meals to an upscale going away dinner. He would tell you of an amazing performance of “The Big House” at the Abbey Theatre, the National Theatre of Ireland.

Mac, on the other hand would ramble on endlessly in incomplete sentences, replete with dangling participles. He would have one subject: Guinness. The tall, dark and handsome glasses off nectar that gave him sustenance; that made his life worth living. Guinness takes on something of a mythical aura in Dublin, much like the Champagnes in Paris and the coffee houses in Amsterdam. More than a stout. Guinness is a lifestyle, a verb, a raison d’ȇtre.

I hear you. “Mac, while Guinness may be an unfortunate lifestyle selection and a poor raison d’ȇtre, it is most certainly not a verb. You seem to be losing your rudder in life!”

Well, I beg to differ. I Guinnessed until the cows came home. To Guinness. I Guinness. You Guinness. He, she or it Guinnesses. (Actually, it seldom Guinnesses, but it could if it wanted to.) We Guinness. You Guinness. They Guinness. Conjugated. Proof of Guinness’ verbiness.

To prove the flexibility of the verb “To Guinness”, we shall take a short test. (The answers are at the bottom.) Questions #1 through #3 are true or false.

#1. Mac was so Guinnessed that he forgot how to operate a zipper. Nature called. Mac narrowly averted an embarrassing situation with a pair of scissors.

#2. Mac was down at the Rose and Thistle Guinnessing with abandon. Suddenly he was sucked off his bar stool, into a gravitational warp and thrown to the hardwood floor.

#3. After a long and hard day of Guinessing, Mac was headed back to his hotel on Lower Abbey Street, when a design flaw in the sidewalk caused him to stumble and fall, scraping the top epidermal layer off his face.

Questions #4 through #6 are multiple choice.

#4. Mac seldom Guinnesses before noon because:

a.       It is morally reprehensible to imbibe in alcoholic beverages before 5PM.

b.       Mac is too busy cleaning house to contemplate beverages that early in the day.

c.       Frankly, vodka us easier to get into the flask and gives more immediate relief to the drudgeries of the morning.

#5. If Ralph and Trixie were to take up Guinnessing, it would be prudent to:

a.       Buy stock in Guinness.

b.       Maintain a 5’ No-Saint zone around your aura.

c.       Purchase rain slickers.

d.       All of the above.

#6. When Guinnessing in mixed company, it is imperative to:

a.       Offer middle aged, black lesbians the first glass of Guinness.

b.       Establish a logical and morally defensible plan to ensure that all members of the party receive ample Guinness.

c.       Pull the fire alarm at the earliest possible moment. After everyone has fled the premises, lock the door. If the door does not have a lock, barricade the entrance with heavy furniture.

I shall always remember the amazing Irish people; their love of their island, their optimistic outlook on life. From Seamus the bartender and Rosemary the guide at Kilmainham Gaol to Mrs. MacNicholl the official’s wife and Michael the barrister, they all showed an amazing pride in Ireland!

 

Slainte!

 

Answers

                #1. False. Mac always wore Levis 501s (with buttons). No zippers were involved.

                #2. False. Mac Guinnessed at Digger O’Dells where the floors were slate.

                #3. False. It was shoddy craftsmanship, not design flaws that made the sidewalks so uneven.

                #4. C. Must I go into more details?

                #5. D. Come on folks, this isn’t rocket science.

                #6. C. Political correctness has its limits in day-to-day life.

It's the Twelfth Night of Christmas

I would have hired twelve drummers, but its a small condo, and logistically with the lords a leaping and maids a milking it became a nightmare!

I made some amazing finds today. I found a newspaper article about Granddad's family when his father was in jail.

Read for yourself!

But there is more. The next post will be a long one!