My sister-in-law from Panama City Beach, Florida called me the other day and said she was going to come up here and get Austin and I to spend a week with her while I'm off work. The idea sounded appealing! I could use a week's vacation with nothing to do but lounge around her pool and read. Austin, of course, is all for the idea. I, however, didn't want her to make the 12 hour drive. She makes this trip very regularly and doesn't think a thing of it. To me it sounds like a lot of time and gasoline! I have neighbors who are pilots and other airport support personnel. Last night we were talking with one of our neighbors and he offered to give me two buddy passes to go. SWEET!  So, he's looking into flights today and hopefully, we'll be on our way in the next couple of days. Austin is thrilled to death! I flew with him to Florida when he was two weeks old to meet his big brother (away at college). He, of course, doesn't remember this.

He's busy planning our week. Funny, how his plans and mine are so different!! We will spend a day or two at the beach and the rest of the time we'll be living in bathing suits in Aunt Pilar's pool. We're hoping that my daughter, Emily, who lives in Jacksonville will be able to come visit us. She's very busy with work and a new puppy, but hopefully it will work out. We miss her.

A NOTE REGARDING THE LAST ENTRY:

When I re-read it, I realized that the picture of the dining room was mis-leading. That is the dining room in this house, not the old house (the country one). This picture contains the table and pie safe that my mother-in-law gave me. The dining room is the only room in this house that contains a country flavor. I love those pieces and could never part with them.

 

Austin was in my nephew and Godson's wedding the first week of July. This kid has been a ring bearer so many times he qualifies as a professional. Here are some picture of him from the wedding that I just can't help showing off:

I have been sitting and thinking a lot lately. I've been looking through old magazines (you wouldn't believe my archive of decorating magazines!), and catalogs. I have realized that my home doesn't feel like "me". I struggle with every new purchasing decision when it involves something for the house. Then, when I do purchase something, it just doesn't feel right somehow.

 

When I first married, I thought I was all about modern furniture and decorating. So, naturally we bought modern furniture and decorated our first home with lots of bamboo and glass. I wasn't comfortable with it at all. It was just not cozy. It wasn't homey, and I'm all about homey. I think I went with the modern stuff because my mother had always loved Early American. I was sick of Early American and wanted something totally different. It didn't take me long, however, to find out that "modern" wasn't me. At the time (late 70's) "country decorating" was all the rage. I immediately jumped in with both feet. My mother-in-law gave me a beautiful old pie safe and an old, round wooden kitchen table and chairs.I love old things, I think I have an old soul.  I stripped the bamboo wallpaper and put up navy blue and white pinstripes with a cute little duck border (I can see the eye rolling). I found anything old and claimed it. I painted and distressed, I sewed and made country craft things. Before long, my home had a very cozy, comfortable feel. I liked it. It was me.

 

I don't really know why I got away from it, but when we moved into this house in 1994 I decided to make a change. I went with a more traditional look. I've lived with it now for 12 years and I've never felt like I "got it right". There seem to be rules for this type of decorating and I don't understand them. Country was easy for me. It was natural. It was fun and I miss it.

 

I want to go back to country. Maybe not quite as country as it was at one time, but country. You know what they say; "You can take a girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl". I miss the neat clutter of country. Maybe because I'm such a clutterbug at heart. I've always been attracted tocountry prints and country fabrics. I think I'm tired of resisting them.

 

So, guess what? I'm on a new mission. I will be happily converting my "not quite there" traditional home back to the comfortable and cozy country place that I think I was destined to have all along.

 

Winning the lottery would be nice.

Pardon me while I whine!

I've spent three days in the oversized chair in my family room whining like a baby. My knee feels like someone took an axe to it. I was told to take the bandage off yesterday, so I did. I was surprised to see how much my knees don't match.

I've never thought that knees were very pretty, but in comparison, my left one is downright beautiful!  Not only is my knee grossly distorted, my whole leg is swollen! My meniscus had shredded, but on top of being shredded, it had flipped over as well. I also was the proud owner of an uneven patella (kneecap), which required shaving on the underside so that it will slide over the bones easier. This, I'm told, is due to age. Lovely! I spent most of yesterday being mad at myself for allowing someone to mutilate my knee. Sure, it hurt before, but I was certainly better off than I am now. My plan was to show Patrick up in the recovery game. He did great, I wanted to do even  better. My ego has been squashed. He wins.

This hurts, and it hurts constantly. I have plenty of narcotics to help with the pain, but I hate taking them. I don't like the feeling of being drugged and fuzzy. However, when I'm not "drugged and fuzzy", I'm a whining bitch. Which is why, I suppose, my family keeps asking me if I've taken any pain pills lately. I have my first physical therapy session this afternoon. I will be taking said narcotics before I go there. The therapy will take place at the hospital where I work. I will have to see these people after this is all over. I cannot be a whimp or a crab. Maybe I could wear a mask.

I've decided that I'm a rotten patient. I had gathered lots of books and magazines to read while I sat on my butt healing. I have Sudoku puzzle books, Scrapbooking magazines and lots of things to entertain myself. I actually imagined that I would enjoy just being lazy and reading and watching television. I'm going stark raving mad. I've wallowed that chair to death trying to find a comfortable position (there are none), there is nothing even remotely interesting on television and I can't focus on reading due to "narcotic brain". I can't sleep for more than 2 hours at a time. In short, I'm not a fun person lately.

If anyone has any suggestions for improving my disposition, my family would be eternally grateful.

 

Counting backward from 100...again

Today was my birthday. I don't like birthdays anymore. I have decided that this is the last one that I'm going to count. The numbers are getting ridiculous. There should be a law against time going by so fast. I can't possibly be as old as I've gotten to be. It hurts, I don't like it, I don't like it one little bit. And then there is this thing about feeling like my body is just falling apart...piece by piece.

I just must not be holding my mouth right or something. Sometimes I think that someone has a voodoo doll in my image and they entertain themselves by sticking needles in it every other year. I have had my share of surgeries in the past, some minor and some major, the ones that I can remember total 7 and that's NOT counting oral surgeries. That might not seem like many to some people, but to me, it's a lot. Especially when you consider that I admit a lot of elderly people to the hospital and one of the questions that I ask on the admission history is how many surgeries have you had in the past. I am always amazed by how many people in their 70's and 80's answer, "none". Of those that have had surgeries, the answer is usually 2 to 3. I swore that I'd never lie down on an OR table and count backward from 100 again. I've been reminded, once again, that one should never say never!

Friday afternoon I'm having arthroscopic surgery on my right knee. I have a torn meniscus and it's driving me crazy. I have had bad knees all of my adult life. I'm NOT an athlete. The only thing I can figure is that all of the hands and knees floor scrubbing I've done in my life has done the damage. For the past month my knee has been swollen and very painful. By the time I get home from work in the evenings, the right knee is 2 inches bigger around than the left one. I've limped and "ouched" for about a month and it's getting worse not better. I cannot bend my knee at all without pain and it gives out on me at very inconvenient times (not that there are convenient times, I suppose!). I went to the orthopod on Tuesday and he said the meniscus is torn. The pain is from the meniscal flap being caught between the bones of my tibia and femur. The only way to correct that is to cut the torn pieces away. Oh joy! He also suspects that my patella is rough and needs to be shaved.

The good news is that knee surgery has come a long way in recent years and they can now do this with just two small incisions instead of opening up the whole knee. I guess I should just be grateful for that. And I am, trust me.

The interesting thing is, Patrick just had this very same surgery on June 2. The discouraging thing is, his knee still hurts. I have had many people tell me the same thing. It's not very encouraging. But, I can't keep going with the knee like it is. So, I'm going to cross my fingers and hope this works.

(Crown courtesy of Austin!) You've gotta love a big brother that will wear a foam crown lovingly made for him by his little brother AND have his picture taken wearing it to make that little brother happy.