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.

ICE IN JUNE!!!

At 10:00 tonight I was upstairs in my bedroom ironing and watching television. We have been under a severe thunderstorm watch for most of the evening, so I wasn't surprised when it began to rain very hard. As I listened, I realized that not only was it raining, I could hear hail hitting the roof and windows. I could tell from the sound of it that it wasn't the small stuff. My first thought was of my flowers! I could just imagine that they were being pelted and would be bruised and beaten down. Luckily, the hail didn't last for very long, probably less than 3 minutes. About 1/2 hour later, Tucker wanted to go outside. I walked out on the deck with him. I didn't turn the light on before I went out so I was shocked to find that I was walking on ice. It felt just like someone had poured a huge bag of ice on the deck. When I heard the hail earlier it sounded huge. I now realize that it was because there was so much of it. The ice balls were really very small, in fact they very much resembled the crushed ice you get in a drink from Frischs'.

 I went back in to turn on the light and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. People, it looked like winter!! There was ice everywhere! I had to grab my camera and take pictures.

I'm in the process of stripping the old stain off of the deck (this is the hardest task I've ever undertaken in my entire life!), if anyone has any suggestion for doing that please let me know. I've spent approximately 18 hours so far and it's not going well! Anyway, that's why the deck looks so horrible, so don't pay any attention to that!! You're only allowed to look at the ice!!

Look at how it's piled up in the chair. I didn't do that!

I took a flashlight out into the yard to look at my flowers. They aren't hurt too badly. I hope the light of day doesn't reveal a lot of damage.

SUCKING AIR

This guy right here.......

He'll kill ya! I would tell you more, but I just simply don't have the energy left.

I don't have a dog, my dog has me!

I had wanted a Golden Retriever for a very long time. I've always thought they were such pretty dogs and I'd always heard how good natured they were. Two years ago, my kids got me one for my birthday. I named him Tucker, it just seemed to fit the little ball of fur that resembled a little bear cub. Here he is the very first day he came to live with us.

If this isn't "cute" in action, I don't know what is!! I wasn't with them when they picked him out. I knew they had gone to get him (he was supposed to be a her, and her name was going to be Abby), but since it was a birthday gift, I let Patrick and Sarah pick him out and Austin and I stayed home waiting anxiously. Here are some pictures that they took of him with his mother before they brought him home.

And here is one of Patrick playing with Tucker and his brother. Tucker is the one on the left.

I fell in love instantly. How could you NOT? This is the most loving animal I've ever been around. He was house broken in a matter of days. He minded us very well almost from day one. He began to learn some obedience commands within a week and was doing little tricks like "roll over" within about 3 weeks. This dog lives to please us. He will not be ignored. He wants to be petted and loved on all the time. He would be a lap dog if we'd let him, but we don't allow him on the furniture. But if we're on the floor, watch out! In your lap isn't close enough, he just can't get close enough to you. If you have the audacity to ignore him, he'll remedy the situation. I can't count how many times I've had a coffee cup in my hand and on the way to my mouth when he's tucked his head under my elbow to tell me he wants my arm around him. Can you picture what this does? Yep, coffee everywhere! Then he looks at you with those big old brown eyes as if to say, "I'm sorry, I just wanted a hug". He can sense things. He seems to know when we're tired, or sad. When I come home from work at night to a housefull of sleeping people, there's Tucker waiting at the door for me. I'll come in and sit down and he puts his head in my lap and gives me the sweetest look. Often times he will sigh, very deeply, while he's looking up at me in this position. If he could talk he would say, "I've missed you!". He loves so unconditionally.

Here are some more recent pictures of him:

Here he is with Patrick and Austin (and Sarah's arm).

You might be wondering what prompted this entry. Well, I'll tell ya. I was just sitting here playing Poppit on the computer and as usual, Tucker was lying on top of my feet. It's a very comfortable and reassuring thing to have a soft, warm dog lying on your feet! Then, he sat up and put his head in my lap and gave me that adoring look. At that moment, I wanted everyone to know  that warm, fuzzy feeling. You know, you just can't out-love a dog.

Sure, he sheds. I probably sweep up a dog and a half every day around here. We go out into the world with blonde dog hair on us every day. My kitchen floor is constantly sporting  water droplets from when he takes a drink of water. We have to guard our napkins while we eat dinner because he steals them off of our laps and eats them (for some strange reason, he loves to eat paper). And, we have to go on "poop patrol" in the back yard every day. But I wouldn't trade this big lug of loving dog for a clean floor, safe napkin, or poop-free yard. He owns me, and he's got the papers to prove it.