Doing small stuffs

This morning was odd for me, I was so hungry all day.  Small breakfast, snack, early lunch, second lunch, late snack.  I am still hungry.  Washed my hair.  Watched the Outlander premier.

Finally got small chores done.  Did a mini thatch on a small patch of front yard.  Emptied the rain bucket, poured water down my leg, soaking my patched working jeans.  All my clean sweatpants and leggings are downstairs. I have other leggings, but they just are not as comfy as my velvet ones.  Jammy pants in the laundry too.  I tried on my other jeans, I have sized up out of the 20s.  Two pair are nearly new, but have elastic waists.  I hate them and rarely wear them, so into the thrift shop box they go.  I looked at the Woman Within sale, but their jeans suck, and the few I liked were not cheap in any case.  So, I looked on ebay.  Voila!  My size, the right brand and color, and cheap.  Well, cheap for jeans.  Old Lane Bryant house brand, now defunct.  I got two pair, because I got rid of two pair.  Yay.  But do I need three? Do I need a couple a size down?

I took apart the kitchen fixture and put in a new bulb.  I am a little unsteady on the stepstool, so I didn’t put the cover back on yet.  It is heavy glass.  Opened the over the sink fixture and put in a new bulb.  I thought it was a double, no, it was just a weird single.  The CF in it was beginning to dim.  I found three nice LED bulbs and put them in the ceiling fan.  Cleaned the blades.  They have been dirty for almost two years.  Cleaned the cat box, brought up coffee.  Got the bacon towel I no longer want in the thrift box.  Did the dishes, washed the cutting boards.  Ordered insulin for Harry.

These are all small things, but they are things done.  I still must do the trash, tomorrow is trash day and the kitchen bin is full.  I don’t mind the trash at all.  I just feel so lethargic.  And hungry, why am I so hungry?

Upward and onward, yet standing still

The vision is creeping forward, but still, the world is smudges and watercolors.

I finished the Lokis, including the indulgent and fancy Rainbow Bridge Loki. I even touched up Lady Loki. I have a classic comic book evil Loki to attend to, but not just yet.

I got the chickens upstairs, and have been doing basic chores. Laundry, mostly. Did the finances, which is always a little confusing. There’s more money in the account than I have balanced. Better than less, yes?

I got the Stars and Moon sign up near the backdoor. I tried to do the moon and star hanging but it didn’t look good. I will try later.

Slowly getting the foods out of the house which aggravate my benzoate/benzoic acid sensitivity. I’d been putting cinnamon in my coffee grounds, eating soft cheeses, and cranberry and blueberry sauces/dried fruits. It all adds up to flu symptoms. Damn, that’s some of my favorite foods. I also gave away foods and seasonings which I simply will not use. I won’t quit eating things like cinnamon toast, but I will back off of it. The provolone in the fig and pig may be what gave me the runny nose.

Another light in the kitchen burned out. Not sure if I have an appropriate bulb, or if I can reach the fixture. I noticed because I was cooking a pack of pork stew meat. Usually, it would go in the slow cooker with beans and green chilis, but I went with stir fry. Used the plum sauce. Finished off the minced garlic. It all was depressing, because the pork, the unused beans, the garlic, the plum sauce, all was bought on shopping trips with Larry. So I was in a darker than usual kitchen, cooking sad food for one. I understand those folks on r/widowers who up and move away from a home filled with memories.

Raking the mucky moldy leaves was the plan, but it snowed and then rained.

Watched a lot of crap TV today. Crap is about right for my mood today. This week. Maybe even this month.

Been a minute, right?

My vision is improving,I can see around the house. Screen time is still limited, as it gives me headaches too quickly. I can see the keyboard now using an older pair of prescription reading glasses. Still, it feels as though I am looking at the world through dirt and smudges.

Went out shopping with Desi. I cannot see at a distance well at all, and I get fatigued rapidly. I think it is from not moving around very much, and simply from straining to see. I am exhausted.

I am still working on my custom Lokis. Even though miniature painting is meticulous and hard on my eyes, I enjoy it.

I’ve been enjoying broiled “pig n fig” sandwiches. Probably not good for me at all.

Cats are being fur jerks. As usual.

Nothing is clear.

Imbolg, indeed. There’s four or more inches of snow outside, and an overcast but bright sky. All that lovely white is reflecting into the house, filling the rooms with light. I feel as if I am being punched in the eye. Ah well.

Normally, I try to stay on top of my banking, all done online. None of m banking apps are on my phone, only my laptop. Here’s the thing, I can put my phone up to my face, into the zone where I can see the screen. Using the laptop, like I am now, requires glasses. But between the blurry vision and the new lens in my eyes, I cannot see the screen or keyboard easily. My prescription glasses no longer work in mid-range. I got the credit cards paid, but doing the line by line balancing of the checking is not happening. Fortunately, I am never close to the edge in checking, so it will be fine. Everything is fine. Fine.

The good news is I can walk around the house and kind see in lower light. The dirt and dust is piling up, no doubt, but I can;t see it. Lifting and moving things is difficult. I need to shovel the snow, but no. Yesterday was mild, but I couldn’t do the leaves. Even moving the laundry around hurts my face. Weird. Art is right out, and my project Lokis will be rolling in soon. They can wait.

Oh, this entry? On the laptop, using touch typing and spellcheck. I learned how to touch type when I was substituting the typing class for 8th graders in Yokosuka in the 90s. Useful skill which I shrank from when I was in high school.

little here and there, now and then

Ugh. This time the eye surgery was more painful. Light is really getting to me. Hiding in the bedroom because the rest of the house is too bright. Still, my vision is improving incrementally.

Ordered some canned beverages on Amazon. Delivered right up against the front door, so I had to go out and around. Gee, thanks. Bumped then down to the basement by setting them on the stair and going backwards, moving them one or two steps at a time. Stabbed one of the cans while taking off the plastic wrap. So much fun. Cleaned the cat box while I was down there. Stinky. Messy. Bending over is also painful. I want to clean the wax jars, to take the peanuts out, bring up the metal chickens and take down the silk flowers, but no. Perhaps later.

I told myself no more Lokis after Lady Loki. Promptly bought three project Lokis. Also, a remarkable leather wallet on Etsy by a talented artists in Ukraine. Sigh.

A little less on the juju

The wheelchair came back. That helps ease my jitters. I know it would have been longer had I not pushed. Ah well.

Jett died. She was supposed to have a little longer, but was gone in days. Far, far too young. I cannot take this much more. No more dying, please.

Went to see Dolittle. Cute little movie, requires suspension of belief start to finish. Fluffy fluff fluff. I did not stop and eat Chinese food. I wanted it though. Bought hot sauce. The Blueberry Hell is good, but too hot and overpowers the berry sweetness.

Eyes are not enjoying the drops. Surgery tomorrow and I do not feel at all relaxed or optimistic. Cross your fingers for me.

Bad juju

I want to post passive-aggressive drama stuff on Facebook, but that helps no one. So here I am, on my barren blog, venting at the universe, shouting into the void.

Some months ago, I lent a burner my kneelie scooter. Larry had put a little basket on it, and a cute bell, and it had a lock. I am short, so it did hurt my knee a bit, but I could use it. Mostly it lived in the garage. I lent it to a burner, the goddess type with the dreads, a new hippie name, and a belief the universe will provide. I also provided a 12v fan and a couple other things. A bike I could have sold. Goddess left town without returning the scooter, and now blames her sister. Her sister had blocked her, apparently. Yeah, goddess, I hope the universe bites you in the ass for you lack of responsibility. But not your cat, cats don’t deserve to pay for their human’s blunders. But you suck.

Not having learned my lesson, I lent my wheelchair to a goddess I truly like and respect. Responsible and kind are words I associate with her. She needed a mobility device to borrow for a weekend for her offspring who had hurt their leg. I did not think it would be a problem. Well, silly me. She has promised to return it and has stood me up for two weekends now. Not one word either weekend that she could not make it. I am harboring evil thoughts and I do not like that. Just bring the damned thing back. Find a way.

Someone who borrowed something else is making an effort to return it this week and I know he will follow through.

Basically, my faith in people is diminished yet again. At this point I will not lend one thing out, nor one penny. I trust one person implicitly, maybe two, but all others pay cash. I may give gifts, but no loans, no borrowing. And if you call yourself a goddess, I am an atheist and don’t believe your bullshit.

Winter's Heart, winter's tears

Looking into the backyard, most of the snow is melted, there is a thick mat of dead brown leaves on the grass. Fog has shrouded the trees. Looks like it should be spooky, but all I see is the neglect and the creeping disorder. That Larry loved his yard so much, that he never let it go untended, and it always looked tidy, if natural. Poor old yard. I look at the patio, at the staggered board fence which we had talked about replaced. The paint is peeling, the boards on the ends covered in green moss. The original owner built that patio. Masters, I think his name was. I used to walk by this house on my way to school, I never looked at it, never glimpsed the lives of the people whose home would become my own. We fade, we are forgotten, except for the fingerprints of that which we have made.

I want to go out, I want to rake. I am paralyzed, and it is cold out there. Old~ish movies on TV keep me company, but I am jaded, and stories with heaven and death and second chances are like grit in my shell. I suppose I could hope for a pearl, but it feels like an ulcer on my soul.

Desi brought me a birthday cake last Monday. Delicious heaps of sugar such as only a commercial supermarket bakery can provide. Red Velvet, not my favorite, but close. n Wednesday, Genius and Rarity came and took me to a late lunch. We tried the new WB’s Eatery, a cross between a bar and a little bistro. Art on the walls. Ha, I can paint that well or better. Honestly, I can. I had a nice strong drink, some ham and fig bruschetta, steak chimicurro skewers, and schrimp scampi. A nice interlude.

They took some of Larry’s candles home with them, and Friday, after commissary run, Desi took more candles, plus molds and wax and wick. I found the sil-pat cupcake molds, and will use them to make bath bombs. I got into the box of jars to make candles, found a cute mug and an interesting bail top canister On Sunday, another friend will come and help me sort all the candle making stuff. Of course, I will cry.

Larry made wonderful candles. He made a wonderful garden, with sturdy raised beds. The candles will burn, and his gift used, leaving only memories. The flowerbeds will slowly rot, especially if I cannot and do not tend the garden. Someone will buy this house. They will raze the garden, perhaps. They will look at my wonky painted cabinet in the bathroom. They will paint and scrape and remodel, and they will not know me, they will not know Larry. The love we had, the love of this home, it all fades and falls away.

This is inevitable, this is natural, and sometimes, it makes me very, very sad. Larry should never be forgotten.

I cannot.

A wonderful burner friend has been battling leukemia for about a year now. They did the tests which determine the next course of action. Turns out it is home hospice. Well, fuck. I tell them I love them, but I have no words. I am sick. I just cannot. She is so young and vibrant. Dammit.

I will write about my lovely belated birthday lunch later. No way to squeeze in any other topic in my much too full brain this moment.

Happy the 63rd

I did not speak to one person today. Not on the phone or in person or on any device. Alexa and the cats were it. Could be my fault, I am a crappy caller.

So, the eye was a scratch and is healing. My close vision is creeping back, so that’s nice. I had a salad at the hospital cafe, only $3. Whoot. Lots of greens and beets and yummy stuff. I still cannot see worth a damn, or perhaps half a damn.

Today is my 63rd birthday. Many, many lovely wishes on Facebook, which is heart warming. I did get three cards, one form TK, a Navy mom who makes her own beautiful cards with stamps and embellishments, and the other two from my pagan Navy moms. Otherwise, it was simply a quiet day at home. I made waffles for breakfast, and had eggrolls and sweet potato fries for lunch. Painted a little, worked on the Silver Torso, made the ice club for Loki. Tidied this and that, got the thrift shop stuff in a box. Washed dishes. Watched some more Lost in Space. Listened to music. Cried a lot, because I really, really miss Larry and each year takes me further and further away. That’s just how it is, and no great concern, just a day like this slams home just how much he meant. I hate this life now, but it’s the only one I have. Ah well. Onward.

I tried to have soup for supper. A neighbor had brought me a jar of dried soup fixings, just add water and boil it up. Wow, it was salty. Salty AF, no kidding. I had to throw it out. Now I’m craving a coke, which means it tossed my sugar off balance. Ugh.

Tomorrow I might bake a cake, a sweet potato pecan snack cake.

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