Citykitty the Prepper

Oh. I have heard so much lately about preparing for the worst. The worst of what, I'm still not sure. At any rate, I drank the Koolaid. Some friends are stocking up. Perhaps I can just go to their house when all else fails. My husband thinks it's silly. Maybe so. I can't just do nothing. That sounds like bad grammar, but the gist is true. So, last trip to Costco, I get 25 pounds of rice, 13 pounds of baking soda, 3 bottles of Clorox, and a huge thing of laundry detergent. Here are the reasons for those purchases: the laundry detergent is the only obvious one. Baking soda: you can do anything with that, including wash clothes, brush teeth, bathe, boat anchor (it is heavy-13 pounds!), etc. Clorox, well, it purifies water if needed. Rice? You can live on it with some beans thrown in. Hey, I watch the survival series “Alone.” They would kill for a bowl of rice. Anyway, my friends also told me that if you have something in excess, you can barter with someone for things they have that you need…IF you have something to trade. Now I do! Then there is the security issue of crazy days. I asked my neighbor, a veteran and nice person if he was armed and had enough ammo. He said, “all you have to do is get over here.” Basically saying… ”I got you.” Comforting. Perhaps he knows something I don’t. He is very smart, and works in AI for a company. He has a fence around his property along with security cameras. I think he’s got it down. I feel pretty safe. So, after watching all these videos about ‘dry canning’…yeah-didn’t know that was a thing…I have put up 25 pounds of rice in quart size freezer bags, found two empty Tupperware cake carriers and stacked them in there along with one of those oxygen reducers (that come in pill bottles). I keep those things, for just this reason. My mother kept vacuum cleaner bags, my aunt kept aluminum foil, I keep those little oxygen reducer packs. I keep them on the shelf where my medications are stored. See? I do prep! So, if my Lord tarries and doesn’t take me home before the world goes crazy, I’ll have some rice to eat and be able to brush my teeth.

Retired adventures~Anniversary trip

Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

Well. Our anniversary adventure began smoothly enough. We made it to Atlanta in about and hour and a half, got parked, took the shuttle to the airport, and proceeded to get to the ticket counter. Dummy me, with all the pre prep I had done, did not check in on line. So, thinking we were in the "deposit hour bags here" line, we lined up. I started thinking that since we hadn't checked in, we needed to go to the other line. We did. Wrong. Back to the first line. I MUST start listening to my husband better. He was right. I was wrong. Anyway, we get up to the counter and a sweet lady helped us check in. (Extra points for helping the elderly.) So, we get checked in, get to the gate, and wait. The airline changed the 'equipment' twice, so what we thought were our seats were not. Middle seat, Geno behind me. We dealt with it. 5 hour flight. 2 hours sleep last night. Lots of nodding off, but with folks in either side, one can't do much! So, relatively good flight. Get off, find baggage claim, in no hurry. Easy peasy. Called the hotel for their shuttle to come get us, and we were instructed to take the sky bridge a floor up and go over there to the courtesy seats. Geno goes up the escalator. With his suitcase. I had visions of Buddy the Elf getting on there. So- I took the elevator. Dude with a BIG baggage cart gets on and presses a button. I couldn't see which one. I got off. Wrong floor. Get back on. Got off. Wrong floor. Geno calls, "where are you?!" I don't know. Just riding the elevator. So, he instructs me to just go back to the beginning at the baggage claim and meet him. I did. Cross the sky bridge. Wind down the escalator and across the street. WHERE IS MY PURSE??? Oh dear Lord, I have lost it! I fly back to baggage - where I had it last- and the guy saw my frantic face and said we found it. They have just take it to Lost and Found. Praise Jesus! So, me and my new best friend trek to L and F. I identify it and because it was less thank 15 minutes, I did not have to fill out forms. Get the purse, find my way back to Geno where we both thank the Lord and wait for the shuttle. We both aged about 10 years. Got to the hotel and now chillin before finding some grub. I may be too old for this.

Nightmares

Sitting outside in the rocking chair with a cup of coffee listening to the birds. All seems well. Not so. Nightmares have begun. It could be extenuating circumstances from another outside source, or it could be that the actual impact of these knees is finally getting to me. I sure do talk big, but I think I'm a wimp when it gets right down to it. I have always said that the fear of the unknown was the thing that scared me the most. However I'm thinking that I know what's coming and it scares that the padoodle  out of me. Perhaps after talking to my anesthesia nurse cousin sister, I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing today.  I'll end on a sad note. B-flat.

Adventures in Knee replacements

Captain's blog, star date 2012, oh wait, that's now. Long time no log. Should be years into the future. As fast as this year has flown by, it will be yesterday before tomorrow gets here. News: bi-lateral knee replacement. Coming to a hospital near you on June 7th!!! When one is growing up, one thinks that the equipment lasts forever. Not so. I had figured it out about teeth. Mine have been parchment ever since I can remember. I knew I'd spend my adult life getting teeth fixed after that first crown broke. (I'm in the wrong profession. No, not really. I couldn't stand putting my fingers in someone else's mouth. Ew.) Back to the subject at hand. This has come about in the last four years. When hubby blew out his knee on some stairs, mine were fine. As I was taking care of him in his hip-to-toe cast back in '08, I remember having a pain in my left knee. Thinking it was sympathy pains, I dismissed it and certainly didn't want to bring it up to hubby who sat there in a cast. Nevertheless, it continued to have some pain. After about a year, I finally went to the orthopedic surgeon. Cortisone shot in the knee. Now THAT is fun! About 9 months or so later, went back as the pain was kicking in even harder. Got another shot and a lecture on weight. I know, I know. The frame was not built for this type of tonnage. [Don't you just want to slap people that tell you that you need to lose weight AS IF YOU DIDN'T KNOW?!! I have yet to come up with the perfect sarcastic reply when that happens, but I'm working on it. Feel free to make suggestions. "Why no, I like to buy XXL T-shirts. They are more roomy." "I rather enjoy tight pants, makes me feel sexy." "I just love wearing Granny Panties. Makes me feel so mature". Et al. So, after about another year, it was time to go back. By this time, we were seeing yet the 3rd doctor in the practice and his opinion was the same as the others. Let's try another cortisone shot, and let's fit you with a brace to re-align your bones so that it takes pressure off the part with no cartilage. Sure. I'd met my deductible, so let's go all Forrest Gump. Got mine in a pretty purple. Sure made the sympathy come out from by-standers. Felt better about using that handicapped parking space wearing that thing. Well, after about 6 months of wearing it, sure enough, it did help my muscles fight back and the pain subsided somewhat. I even tried wearing it at the beach, but sand under that thing made more problems than it was worth. Read a few books on that trip. Time passes and sometime last year, the right knee wanted in on the action. Here we go again. Even tried "rooster comb" injections. Yeah, don't know the proper name. I knew that didn't work when I felt the urge to chase chickens. February, 2012. Go to see a specialist in Chattanooga and he agrees that new knees are the order of business. Both of them. Not a nickel's difference in the way they look or feel now. I have to say, I was hoping to wait until 2013 to do all this, partly because I didn't want to have to go through it and then the world ends in December. On the other hand, what if I had to run to escape disaster? I couldn't do it on the old knees. So, here we go. I've gotten my head around it mostly. I hate surprises. I'm going to grill the two people I know that have had this done and find out specifics. If I know what's coming, I can prepare for it. If not, it messes with my mind. Like the time I was going in to deliver my first child, having been through Lamaze classes and thinking I knew everything that was about to happen. Here comes the nurse with an enema! A what? Why? Blew me away. Someone forgot to tell me that I was to be violated as well as all the other procedures that would come my way. Looking back, how lame that looks. Dang, I was supposed to give 2 pints of blood for THIS adventure. My sweet hubby gave instead of me. I went for the pre-op on Friday. A little scary. Still trying to be the brave, prepare patient. My BP gave my real state of mind away. 160/64. When I walk into a health care facility, the heebie jeebies start running. So, after a chest x-ray, MERSA swab, peeing in a cup, and 4 vials of blood, I was left to ponder the REAL procedures. I have about a week to conquer that. Working on it.

Addendum to the Summer Solstice

I would be amiss if I didn’t expound on my adventure today at Dalton Imaging Center. Gentlemen, if you are reading this, it’s time to close the window and step away from the computer. **** Females only from this point….you have been warned. ***

I had my yearly mammogram today. I must say, it equaled the thrill of APA writing in many ways. First of all, I have been going to this same place for probably 10 years. Every year, I fill out a new form, and never has the information changed, except the insurance card. So, I sit on the [worn but comfy] settee and fill out my same old information. Not apprehensive at all, as I have been a customer here for a while, as stated previously.

Sure enough, their promptness is reinforced as after only a few minutes, they call my name. Same little woman shuffles back to The Room. She has spoken maybe 20 words to me in 10 years. I suppose in her line of work, it helps not to get too friendly.

So I’m ushered in the little changing room, “gowns are in the top cabinet” she says much like Cloris Leachman in “Young Frankenstein”, as she has for the past decade. Well, they‘ve obviously upgraded to a new, improved ‘gown’. This thing looks like a Christmas tree skirt with snaps. There are no arm-holes, only this bat-like cape-like thing. Great, I say to myself. Now I look even more stupid because I can’t figure out how this goes. Well, I go and sit in the room with the Monster, and while I wait, I notice a little difference. This is a new machine, a new configuration. The old one had to have the big old x-ray plates pushed in. This is a streamlined model, with digital access and a monitor. Neat! Not so neat. The little woman comes in and tells me to stand in front of The Beast. She squirts something on a cloth and proceeds to wipe down the surface of the jaws of this thing. I said jokingly, “Does that warm it up?” No response from the dominatrix. I’m sure she’d rather remain aloof and uncaring handling what she does all day every day.

Then she grabs my breasticle and pulls it into the gaping jaws of her new best friend. She presses a pedal with her foot and then turns a knob and cranks it down even more! I cannot breathe! I recall her saying in past years “hold your breath” – no need now….can’t breathe, can’t talk, I can only crouch in the awkward standing/leaning position the dominatrix has placed me. THEN she says, “I’ll get you out of this in just a second.” LIAR! I’m counting to ten, trying not to pass out, thinking that if I did, I’d be just hanging there with my poor bresticle in the Jaws of the Monster. With much relief, I hear the monster scream and then its hold on me eases up. That was one. She did four. I’m surprised that I’m alive to tell the tale. Say it now..."I'm too old for this!"

It is good to be screened for problems. It is not good to leave unable to stand erect and breathe normally. Only once a year, only once a year.

See why I go fishing?

The Summer that almost wasn't

Summer, ah summer….one of my favorite times of the year. I have so many memories of summertime when I was a child, spent with days of playing with Barbie dolls with my cousins, eating grape popcicles and having fresh, ripe tomatoes from my granddaddy’s garden. There was the occasional trip to Florida to the beach, visiting a dear uncle and aunt. Not a care in the world, knowing that when the cicadas started buzzing, my mama would be there soon to pick me up from my Granny’s house. Those days seem so long ago in one sense…another lifetime, and yet, so near and dear in my mind.

So, what has summer become? Most years of late it is spent with projects, cleaning, doing the things that one never has time to do during the school year. This summer? Not hardly. I have spent this summer at Gitmo in the computer department, allowed to leave only for nourishment and bathing, or so it seems. Very thankful that the summer semester was only 7 weeks long, but painfully wounded from the mental warfare that has taken place. A few battles lost, but the war has been won. I am finished with all assignments, I have fought the good fight. I have no more fingerprints.

I have learned, though….my expertise in Bovine Excrement profusity has increased; my knowledge of APA writing has expanded (though painfully); my thoughts on the use of instructional technology have become clearer and more defined, and I have learned what dishes not to get at several local restaurants. One thing I have retained is my right to have lunch with friends. Summer has been a time to re-connect, catch up, commiserate, and enjoy the friendships, some of which have lasted a lifetime. I have also learned to celebrate the passing of another year of life on this planet. This year, I have caught up with the old speed limit of the interstate…”Arrive alive at 55!”. I have. I did. I’m proud.

I have also learned that my quest for higher education has cost me many brain cells. For example, I no longer know my basic integers. When asked recently how many checks, I said ‘one’ and held up four fingers. I have also realized that I am the comic relief at times when my intention is to be the spectator (Thank you J, N, and M for laughing WITH me and not AT me). I have wondered if the onset of Old Timers Disease (CRS) has stricken me, and know that there is no cure but laughter.

At the same time, I have walked with my grown daughter in her quest to become an adult and obtain gainful employment….jury still out on that. I have enjoyed sitting outside on the deck with coffee in hand laughing at ‘cat antics’ and listening to the birds. I have been blessed to enjoy cool mornings of watering my plants on specified watering days and enjoying the habitat of my own little back yard. I will miss these mornings when reality as I know it comes back all too soon.

But one thing is left to do to make summer…go wet a hook, aka go fishing. Yes, I’ll check the fish and game forecast to see just what day looks best. I’ll be there at my buddy’s pond, listening to the birds, crickets, and critters, standing on the bank as I cast my line in the still water. It’s called ‘fishing’, not ‘catching fish.’ And, as they say, a bad day fishing is the best day working.
I’ll make my summer complete in a day or two. I’ll turn off this machine and put on my fishin’ hat. The summer that never was has one more good day left in it.

Gone fishin. Be back….maybe.

Running

I knew it, but didn’t think I needed to remind myself. Running. It’s not just for the young, the healthy, the yuppie with nothing to do, it’s for old people in an emergency. However, I do admit and follow the policy that “I’m too old for this”….regarding running. I have always maintained that I would not run unless something foreboding was chasing me or a loved one was in danger. Add to this list: runaway tires. Yes, Mr. Michelin.
[Stop reading and go to the bathroom now, because this may cause you to laugh uncontrollably and you might have an accident. You have been warned.]
My next door neighbor is having a yard sale today. We live on a highly traveled, main artery-type street, where business is usually good. I have these three, odd tires that I’ve been trying to sell via my neighborhood recycle network and word of mouth, but no takers. I thought I’d mosey over and ask her if I could slide those in perhaps to make a sale and get rid of them myself. Neighbor wasn’t outside, but two friends were, and they said that my neighbor was just letting them do the sale in her yard, and that she wouldn’t mind at all.
I go over to where these three tires are stacked up. Pulling the first one off the top, I noticed that it had been rained on and water had collected. Yuk, “Though I. I will plop this down and let the water splash out so it won’t slosh out while rolling it over.” So, I hoisted it up and rolled it over a little to a space off the driveway to plop it down. It didn’t plop. It rolled, and rolled, and rolled….getting faster and faster to the point I was chasing it down the driveway yelling, “Stop, stop!!!” …as if a tire will hear or respond to my calls. At that point, it bounced over into the grass and a thought of hope sprang from my winded chest. Yes, I WAS CHASING the stupid thing down the driveway. I would have gladly just stood and watched, but it was about to go into that busy street I mentioned previously. Lots of crashes happen on this street, and I can see myself being sued by a driver who was hit by a runaway tire and swerved into another car, causing a chain reaction crash and disrupting the church service happening across the road.
Well, as I check out the approaching traffic, to my left I see a little silver something-or-other speeding down the street. I think I was yelling, “Stop” to him, too. To my right, a small pick-up truck had obviously seen this tirade (!) and had stopped, waiting on the runaway Michelin to cross. I could see his teeth, meaning that he was either smiling politely or laughing his head off. Fortunately, the tire missed the little silver car and went straight across the road in front of the pick-up, hitting the curb and stopping to rest. (I know I was out of breath by this time!). The kindly man motioned me across (while laughing out loud) and I rescued the tire which now lay propped up in the gutter of the street, out of harm’s way.
The lady doing the yard sale (a good ten years younger than myself) is coming over to assist in the rescue. She crosses the street, then PICKS UP the tire amidst my protest that “I can get that!” Well, obviously I proved that I couldn’t! She carries it back up the hill into my neighbor’s yard to the ‘merchandise’ section, where she plops it down and that nasty water splashes out, getting on her. See? That was the whole point of this charade! Got that nasty water out. Well whatever. I told her that I’d just scoot the other two out into the sunlight and if someone was interested, send them over to my driveway. I was not about to do a re-take on the previous scene.
The other lady who was younger but larger than myself said, “I must confess….we were sitting here laughing!” Well good for you. I probably would have laughed myself if I had witnessed such a scene. So I tread home breathless (remember….I do NOT run) and walk into my house somewhat humiliated and breathless. I sat down in front of the computer and felt my pocket….MY CELL PHONE IS GONE! Good Lord! It must have fallen out during that Olympic tire run. So here I go, back out the door, over to the neighbor’s where the lady and myself start re-tracing our steps to find My Precious. Nowhere to be seen. She starts calling my number, and after a thorough outdoor search, I decide I’d go BACK in and look one more time in the house. I retrace my steps, and what do I find next to the computer? Yes, My Precious. So I pick it up, dial the missed call, which was my new BFF, and said when she answered, “This is the crazy neighbor lady. I found my phone.” She was laughing, and couldn’t stop. Fine. Glad you had your chuckle for the day. After all, that’s my purpose in life to bring laughter to others. Think of all those lives I’ve touched today. I will now go look for myself on YouTube. I’m SURE somebody must have gotten that!