Here's a quick update on Lola. She's recovered quite a lot from her spell of a week ago; although, she continues to be quite weak both in mind and body. Her balance was affected perhaps, but I can't tell what's a balance problem from what's just being 91, frail, and weak.
She's quite content to simply lay in her chair in the mornings without asking for breakfast or to sit up to watch TV. I have to remind her of these things and do them for her.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Romney and Mormonism
The other day Jill and I were talking about the upcoming presidential election and the candidates. Jill asked me if Romney's being Mormon affects my opinion of him. I replied, "Yes, it does." So she asked how. After I told her how, I was stunned to learn that she didn't know the basic roots of the Mormon church. Since my own cousin, at age 60, didn't know the basics, I thought I'd write a short post on it.
This is my understanding. A Google search or a quick trip to Wikipedia will give you much more detail. I went to the library 30 years ago and checked out books to learn about it. Here my links are to Wikipedia.
The Mormon church was started in western New York in the 1820s by a treasure-digger named Joseph Smith. In 1823, Joseph Smith claimed to have been directed by the angel Moroni to golden plates buried near his home. These golden plates contained words of God written by prophets, mostly one named Mormon, about indigenous Americans. Smith said he translated these golden plates (using seer-stone spectacles) and then gave them back to the angel. Smith had 11 relatives and friends sign a paper saying they'd seen these plates. During power struggles, Smith later broke with or excommunicated most of the witnesses. Smith published his translation as the Book of Mormon
Mormons believe the Bible is the word of God written by prophets. They also believe the Book of Mormon is the word of God written by prophets (or a prophet), and is a companion book to the Bible.
Joseph Smith and his cadre claimed the way to heaven for women was through their husbands, thus setting the precedence for multiple wives for Mormon men. Mormons believe that present-day men can receive the word of God and change church doctrine.
This is my understanding. A Google search or a quick trip to Wikipedia will give you much more detail. I went to the library 30 years ago and checked out books to learn about it. Here my links are to Wikipedia.
The Mormon church was started in western New York in the 1820s by a treasure-digger named Joseph Smith. In 1823, Joseph Smith claimed to have been directed by the angel Moroni to golden plates buried near his home. These golden plates contained words of God written by prophets, mostly one named Mormon, about indigenous Americans. Smith said he translated these golden plates (using seer-stone spectacles) and then gave them back to the angel. Smith had 11 relatives and friends sign a paper saying they'd seen these plates. During power struggles, Smith later broke with or excommunicated most of the witnesses. Smith published his translation as the Book of Mormon
Mormons believe the Bible is the word of God written by prophets. They also believe the Book of Mormon is the word of God written by prophets (or a prophet), and is a companion book to the Bible.
Joseph Smith and his cadre claimed the way to heaven for women was through their husbands, thus setting the precedence for multiple wives for Mormon men. Mormons believe that present-day men can receive the word of God and change church doctrine.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Lola Channels Joe
Whoo Boy! Today was a wild ride. Lola has been channeling Joe for the last 24 hours. It's not been pretty. Actually, if it wasn't sad, it would have been downright hilarious.
The short of it is that mother barely slept a wink last night. She was up early and falling. She wouldn't stay in her chair. She talked wild all day long. She hallucinated. She also had 4 BMs in the Depends. She wore me out.
Without going into a exquisite detail of the day, here's the gist. Lola wouldn't go to sleep last night. She kept talking, and talking. The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was 5 a.m. She woke me up at 8:30 a.m. wide awake and chipper. And promptly toppled right over, walker and all.
The short of it is that mother barely slept a wink last night. She was up early and falling. She wouldn't stay in her chair. She talked wild all day long. She hallucinated. She also had 4 BMs in the Depends. She wore me out.
Without going into a exquisite detail of the day, here's the gist. Lola wouldn't go to sleep last night. She kept talking, and talking. The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was 5 a.m. She woke me up at 8:30 a.m. wide awake and chipper. And promptly toppled right over, walker and all.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Lola Update 10-19-12
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| Lola October 19, 2012 |
Lola Update 10/18/12
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| Lola - October 7, 2012 |
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| Lola - October 12, 2012 |
She has been very diminished this whole week. She has no paralysis, but is extremely weak. She could barely make it to the bathroom and the chair on Tuesday. At the time I couldn't tell whether it was the usual fugue or anything more. However, she slept most of Monday, which isn't unusual, but when I finally got her up and to the chair on Tuesday, she went right back to sleep.
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| Lola - October 18, 2012 |
I started to realize how bad off she was and stood back and watched while she tried to eat. She was missing the soup bowl with the spoon and not even realizing it. She turned the plate with her meat and bread on it over on her lap and was totally unaware of it. I got that cleaned up and thought she might be able to handle pudding. I gave it to her, went to clean the kitchen up, and came back. She'd had her fingers in the pudding, smeared it all over her and wasn't aware of it.
She began to recover somewhat on Wednesday, and could feed herself again. However, getting her up and to the bathroom was a no-go. Oy. She slept an awful lot, and has had trouble staying sitting up in her chair. I've had to keep her reclined because I fear she's going to slip right out of it. Julia came by to see how she was doing, and this was the first time that mother couldn't name Julia. She recognized her, but couldn't come up with Julia's name.
Lola didn't want to wake up today, but I finally goaded her into it, and she spent from about 3 to 10 watching TV. I got her bathed, cleaned, and in fresh jammies, and got a good meal down her. She wanted to go to sleep about 10:00 p.m. which is quite unlike her. She had the strength to use the walker to stand while I changed her clothes and bathed her, thank heavens. However, making her way to her bed is beyond her.
I'm divided about whether or not to get her to her bed, but leaning more to simply keeping her in the chair. In her bed I could manage bathing and changing diapers with sheets and rolling techniques. However, I think she's reached the stage that once she hits that bed, she will never get up from up.
The chair is leather, and it's one for the elderly that rises to assist in standing up and also reclines with feet raised. The leather is easy to clean, and the standing assist is fantastic for as long as it's an option. In her chair, she can be raised to sitting - which allows her to engage and watch TV and pushes her to continue. Also, I can get to her from all sides in the chair.
If she goes to a bed, I think it would have to be a hospital bed. So I'd have to rent a bed. But she'd be out of daily life. I'd have to take a TV in there, but being in bed encourages disengaging from life I feel.
The main members of the family and I have discussed what to do, and we are all agreed that with her expressed wishes, we are to let things happen as they will. There is no need to take her to a hospital to have an MRI which would confirm or not a cerebral event. There is nothing to be done if there was - she's 91, frail, and failing. It's not like rehabilitation is a viable option, so it really doesn't matter whether or not we know what has happened.
If she was mentally competent - thinking and happily engaged with daily events - it would be a different story. However, she hasn't been able to remember since last November that her husband is dead. I haven't been able to talk her into even stepping foot on the front porch, much less sitting outside, in over two years. She has not been aware of her bodily functions, and hasn't even expressed a desire to be changed from urine-soaked adult incontinence underwear in over 6 months.
There's not much else to say.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Murder, Paper Mills and Commercials
All in all I really love west Kentucky. There are things I don't like now - the changing climate and the hotter temperatures, being used to easier access to more cosmopolitan areas that isn't here, etc., but all in all, I love it here. I love the topography - the gentle hills, the fields, etc.
However, there is one thing that absolutely turns my stomach. It's the paper mill 15 miles north of here. When there is cloud cover, the smell from that place is sickening. When I began this post, it was raining cats and dogs outside, and I would have loved to open a window because this room was warm. When I do, it smells like a sulfur pit or an outhouse. Choose one. It doesn't matter. It stinks.
Pesky commercials. It's probably because I get most of my news online that the commercials I see are hilarious, or sad, and the repetition really brings it to light. When you watch news shows online, there's normally 30 seconds of commercial every 5-10 minutes. The problem is that it's frequently the same commercial for a whole show. Thus my cynical take on Big Oil's commercials.
The last two days have presented at least a real advertisement for services - concierge banking from Chase. Hoo boy. Count me in. However, I don't think Chase is going to be terribly impressed with the size of either our checking or savings account and assigning us a "concierge" to manage it.
Not too hard to figure out what social/economic class that ad is targeting.
More disturbing is the fact that a few nights ago, there was an attempted murder and a suicide 3 houses down from ours, and I was totally oblivious to it. That's really, really disturbing to me. It happened around midnight, and of course, I was up. In fact, I was sitting not more than 2 feet from a window. I didn't hear a thing. Albeit, I almost always have earplugs in and am either listening to a book or some kind of entertainment.
The estranged husband of a woman who was seeking a divorce broke down both her front and back doors, chased her outside, shot her 3 times - breaking both of her legs - sat down on her body and shot himself. I didn't hear a thing - none of the arguing, the screaming, and none of the four shots.
Of the countless times I've wandered outside after midnight because of cat fights, owls screeching, coyotes baying or even, once, seemingly a goose in trouble, I missed a woman screaming for her life and her husband shooting her and himself.
I couldn't have done anything other than join the other neighbors who dialed 911, because things happened so fast and I'm a chicken when it comes to estranged husbands waving pistols while attacking their wives.
It still disturbs me terribly. I heard no arguing, no screaming, no gunshots, no police arriving, no ambulance arriving and saw no flashing lights or unusual traffic. Nothing. Nada. I don't think I've ever lived in a house which is as insulating from neighbors or community as this house is. You think that's what you want until something like this happens, and then wonder what you could have done to help. You can't help but wonder what would happen if it were a stranger breaking in on you.
Thankfully, Monica is alive, and will be arriving back from Nashville and surgery on her legs in a few days.
However, there is one thing that absolutely turns my stomach. It's the paper mill 15 miles north of here. When there is cloud cover, the smell from that place is sickening. When I began this post, it was raining cats and dogs outside, and I would have loved to open a window because this room was warm. When I do, it smells like a sulfur pit or an outhouse. Choose one. It doesn't matter. It stinks.
Pesky commercials. It's probably because I get most of my news online that the commercials I see are hilarious, or sad, and the repetition really brings it to light. When you watch news shows online, there's normally 30 seconds of commercial every 5-10 minutes. The problem is that it's frequently the same commercial for a whole show. Thus my cynical take on Big Oil's commercials.
The last two days have presented at least a real advertisement for services - concierge banking from Chase. Hoo boy. Count me in. However, I don't think Chase is going to be terribly impressed with the size of either our checking or savings account and assigning us a "concierge" to manage it.
Not too hard to figure out what social/economic class that ad is targeting.
More disturbing is the fact that a few nights ago, there was an attempted murder and a suicide 3 houses down from ours, and I was totally oblivious to it. That's really, really disturbing to me. It happened around midnight, and of course, I was up. In fact, I was sitting not more than 2 feet from a window. I didn't hear a thing. Albeit, I almost always have earplugs in and am either listening to a book or some kind of entertainment.
The estranged husband of a woman who was seeking a divorce broke down both her front and back doors, chased her outside, shot her 3 times - breaking both of her legs - sat down on her body and shot himself. I didn't hear a thing - none of the arguing, the screaming, and none of the four shots.
Of the countless times I've wandered outside after midnight because of cat fights, owls screeching, coyotes baying or even, once, seemingly a goose in trouble, I missed a woman screaming for her life and her husband shooting her and himself.
I couldn't have done anything other than join the other neighbors who dialed 911, because things happened so fast and I'm a chicken when it comes to estranged husbands waving pistols while attacking their wives.
It still disturbs me terribly. I heard no arguing, no screaming, no gunshots, no police arriving, no ambulance arriving and saw no flashing lights or unusual traffic. Nothing. Nada. I don't think I've ever lived in a house which is as insulating from neighbors or community as this house is. You think that's what you want until something like this happens, and then wonder what you could have done to help. You can't help but wonder what would happen if it were a stranger breaking in on you.
Thankfully, Monica is alive, and will be arriving back from Nashville and surgery on her legs in a few days.
Friday, October 12, 2012
More State versus Less Federal Government
I've got a bone to pick. What a silly way to say you've got a problem with something.
I've got a problem with the people advocating less Federal Government and more State Government. It makes me want to scream,
"Don't you want to live in one country?????"
Seriously, do the people clammering for more State Government and less Federal Government, want to live in a series of Luxemborgs and small nation states?
Do you seriously want to base the decision on where you live on the options provided to you by states rather than by the nation in which you live? Think about it. Think in depth about it. Think of the things that impact you.
Since I live in extreme western Kentucky, an area surrounded by many states, the issue of State Government is especially pertinent to the people of the region.
People that want to stay within, say a 100-mile radius of their family have the option of living in Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri or Illinois. Even if the radius is much smaller, 50 miles, Tennessee and Illinois are options.
On the surface, you probably think, eh, wherever I get a job is where I'll live. Likely it'll boil down to that, but should it? With more State Government and less Federal Government, there are a lot of things to consider. "What," you may ask, "would cause me to target a specific state rather than another?"
How about schools? Roads? Utilities? Taxes? Judicial systems? Concealed Carry laws?
I've got a problem with the people advocating less Federal Government and more State Government. It makes me want to scream,
"Don't you want to live in one country?????"
Seriously, do the people clammering for more State Government and less Federal Government, want to live in a series of Luxemborgs and small nation states?
Do you seriously want to base the decision on where you live on the options provided to you by states rather than by the nation in which you live? Think about it. Think in depth about it. Think of the things that impact you.
People that want to stay within, say a 100-mile radius of their family have the option of living in Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri or Illinois. Even if the radius is much smaller, 50 miles, Tennessee and Illinois are options.
On the surface, you probably think, eh, wherever I get a job is where I'll live. Likely it'll boil down to that, but should it? With more State Government and less Federal Government, there are a lot of things to consider. "What," you may ask, "would cause me to target a specific state rather than another?"
How about schools? Roads? Utilities? Taxes? Judicial systems? Concealed Carry laws?
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Dream Park and Imager Novels, and Big Oil
I just finished relistening to all of the Dream Park novels by Larry Niven and Steven Barnes. It's funny that I really liked the last one, The Moon Maze Game, and Max found it one he could barely get through. As a matter of fact, I think the last one is the one I liked best. Max mentioned he was disappointed that it picked up with the son of the main characters from the 1st three books, and didn't include those characters much. I found it refreshing.
The iPod has just been loaded up with Imager series by L.E. Modesitt, Jr., and I'm going to work my way through them. He sermonizes a bit much in them for my taste, but I love the way he develops his characters and story lines. Modesitt has worked his way up to being almost my favorite author. It's such a pity he won't get his Chaos books on audible. I'd snap them up in a heartbeat. I could sit a loom, a spinning wheel, or do chores for hours while listening to them.
Recently I commented on an oil commercial that was dominating air time for marketing during news show I watch online. Here are the other two I couldn't remember at the time of the comment. ConocoPhillips is pushing their ad for "diversity" in energy solutions and supposedly caring about economics and the environment. Exxon Mobil is pushing an ad lamenting the U.S.'s bad showing of placing 18th in global math and science competitions, and pushing backing better education in those fields.
Why are these oil companies doing this? If you don't believe it's propaganda to make you think nicely about the richest companies on the face of the whole wide world, I own a bridge in Brooklyn I will sell you.
They're not selling an ad to make you buy their product - go shop at my gas station and buy my gas; they're selling an image of them as good companies.
Why do YOU think oil companies spend millions of dollars on air time to make themselves look good?
I'm going to pop this up on the blog quickly. Max is coming in today, likely around 7ish, and I'm looking forward to this second weekend in a row with my friend and husband in the house with me.
Edited day of post to add:
Phooey! Just called Max to have him stop for burgers before he gets here, and he nearly laughed himself sick trying to tell me today is Thursday, not Friday.
The iPod has just been loaded up with Imager series by L.E. Modesitt, Jr., and I'm going to work my way through them. He sermonizes a bit much in them for my taste, but I love the way he develops his characters and story lines. Modesitt has worked his way up to being almost my favorite author. It's such a pity he won't get his Chaos books on audible. I'd snap them up in a heartbeat. I could sit a loom, a spinning wheel, or do chores for hours while listening to them.
Recently I commented on an oil commercial that was dominating air time for marketing during news show I watch online. Here are the other two I couldn't remember at the time of the comment. ConocoPhillips is pushing their ad for "diversity" in energy solutions and supposedly caring about economics and the environment. Exxon Mobil is pushing an ad lamenting the U.S.'s bad showing of placing 18th in global math and science competitions, and pushing backing better education in those fields.
Why are these oil companies doing this? If you don't believe it's propaganda to make you think nicely about the richest companies on the face of the whole wide world, I own a bridge in Brooklyn I will sell you.
They're not selling an ad to make you buy their product - go shop at my gas station and buy my gas; they're selling an image of them as good companies.
Why do YOU think oil companies spend millions of dollars on air time to make themselves look good?
I'm going to pop this up on the blog quickly. Max is coming in today, likely around 7ish, and I'm looking forward to this second weekend in a row with my friend and husband in the house with me.
Edited day of post to add:
Phooey! Just called Max to have him stop for burgers before he gets here, and he nearly laughed himself sick trying to tell me today is Thursday, not Friday.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Cut Rounds, errr, Biscuits, Lola and Max
Another episode of Edwardian Farm has gotten me tickled over the differences in Brit-speak and American-speak. In episode 9, Ruth has gone to quite a lot of trouble learning how to put together a proper Devon cream tea. She's learned how to traditionally make clotted cream (easy), and it has me drooling.
She's also learned how to make the area's Cut Rounds, upon which the clotted cream was served with jam or marmalade. Well, Cut Rounds from Devon are simply American biscuits, buttermilk biscuits to be more precise. Since I've not tasted a cut round, I can't be sure, but from watching them being mixed the only difference I saw was how the rounds are cut. In England what they call biscuits, we call cookies.
We seem to be having our usual autumn which has become the new normal - from hot summer to cool weather in one week. Used to be we had very hot Augusts, with Septembers becoming cooler, and one could enjoy September and the first part of October. I even remember going Trick or Treating rarely having to wear a coat. In the last 20 years, it's become more normal to go from having to have the A/C on to needing to have the heater on in one week.
Max was in this weekend. We didn't get a lot done. The kitchen got cleaned up, and some groceries were bought. He brought barbecue left from his company's "Employee Appreciation Lunch," and I appreciated it greatly. In the evenings we watched "Tales from the Green Valley."
The yard needs mowing, but the lawn mower is refusing to move. It runs; it just won't go anywhere. Sigh. There's always something, it seems, that needs fixing.
On Friday we had a sump pump attached to the heater and pipes run to pump the condensate over to a proper drain. Joe, bless him, decided to simply knock a hole in the basement floor and let it drip out there. The problem with that is that every time the ground was saturated with water, so was the basement. Now we've just got to plug that hole up, and we might have a dry basement.
Physically, Lola has been doing better lately. She's gotten off her jag of wanting to sleep all day. That makes her steadier on her feet and less shaky getting around. Mentally, she's a mess. I've had to take her trash can away again because she started dumping half-full glasses of juice and water in it. Also, there was a whole stack of prized photographs in it, which I managed to save from a dousing. Now I just have to pick up all the food and candy wrappers she throws on the floor.
She's begun to want to eat her food with her fingers a lot. She has to poke her forefinger in everything on her plate. Then sometimes she picks up her fork and sometimes she doesn't. She's also developed a strange demeanor when I'm in the room with her. She stares in my direction at stomach level and won't speak. She won't look up to see who's in the room with her, and she won't look directly at the person. Other than that, she's carrying on getting up and watching TV all day.
She's also learned how to make the area's Cut Rounds, upon which the clotted cream was served with jam or marmalade. Well, Cut Rounds from Devon are simply American biscuits, buttermilk biscuits to be more precise. Since I've not tasted a cut round, I can't be sure, but from watching them being mixed the only difference I saw was how the rounds are cut. In England what they call biscuits, we call cookies.
We seem to be having our usual autumn which has become the new normal - from hot summer to cool weather in one week. Used to be we had very hot Augusts, with Septembers becoming cooler, and one could enjoy September and the first part of October. I even remember going Trick or Treating rarely having to wear a coat. In the last 20 years, it's become more normal to go from having to have the A/C on to needing to have the heater on in one week.
Max was in this weekend. We didn't get a lot done. The kitchen got cleaned up, and some groceries were bought. He brought barbecue left from his company's "Employee Appreciation Lunch," and I appreciated it greatly. In the evenings we watched "Tales from the Green Valley."
The yard needs mowing, but the lawn mower is refusing to move. It runs; it just won't go anywhere. Sigh. There's always something, it seems, that needs fixing.
On Friday we had a sump pump attached to the heater and pipes run to pump the condensate over to a proper drain. Joe, bless him, decided to simply knock a hole in the basement floor and let it drip out there. The problem with that is that every time the ground was saturated with water, so was the basement. Now we've just got to plug that hole up, and we might have a dry basement.
She's begun to want to eat her food with her fingers a lot. She has to poke her forefinger in everything on her plate. Then sometimes she picks up her fork and sometimes she doesn't. She's also developed a strange demeanor when I'm in the room with her. She stares in my direction at stomach level and won't speak. She won't look up to see who's in the room with her, and she won't look directly at the person. Other than that, she's carrying on getting up and watching TV all day.
Tales From the Green Valley
Huzzah! "Tales from the Green Valley" is back up and available from Dailymotion.com.
This is a documentary about living a year on a small farm in Wales set in 1620. It has historians, Ruth Goodman and Stuart Peachey, along with archaeologists Peter Ginn, Alex Langlands and Chloe Spencer. They dress in period clothing and use the available housing and tools of the period.
Max was here this weekend, the first weekend in October, and he spent Friday night and Saturday night watching all of them.
I've included an embed of Episode 1 here to bookmark it for myself. If you click on Dailymotion in the lower left-hand corner of the video, you'll be taken to the website where you can pick up on the following episodes.
E1 Tales from the Green Valley by zodiacza
This is a documentary about living a year on a small farm in Wales set in 1620. It has historians, Ruth Goodman and Stuart Peachey, along with archaeologists Peter Ginn, Alex Langlands and Chloe Spencer. They dress in period clothing and use the available housing and tools of the period.
Max was here this weekend, the first weekend in October, and he spent Friday night and Saturday night watching all of them.
I've included an embed of Episode 1 here to bookmark it for myself. If you click on Dailymotion in the lower left-hand corner of the video, you'll be taken to the website where you can pick up on the following episodes.
E1 Tales from the Green Valley by zodiacza
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Spices, Green Pans, and Afghanistan's Plains
So it's on to a new documentary series for me while waiting for the next episode in RG, AL, & PG's newest series, Wartime Farm. The series I'm rewatching is "Edwardian Farm" set in 1901. Click here to watch. What prompted me to write this is my astonishment upon noticing that, as Ruth Goodman set up the new Edwardian kitchen and stocked her shelf, she put a tin of Colman's Mustard up, and it's the exact same tin as what I buy today in 2012. Amazing.
Around Arlington and Bardwell, McCormicks was the stock spice for ages, mostly still is. It comes in itty bitty tins and costs far too much. When I can, I tend to buy spices in tiendas (Mexican stores) where they are reasonably priced and British or Hungarian brands, same thing. A lot of my fiber friends buy online from Penzeys, which they swear by, but I've not tried. I figure my palate isn't delicate enough to discern the difference.
Likely I use more powdered mustard than most around here. I make my own mayonnaise, and only use powdered mustard for that. I don't know anyone else who makes their own mayo, which I find weird considering how easy it is. At least I know what I'm eating and am not eating strange chemicals in it. I get enough of those in things I can't control. I also like to use powdered mustard in my deviled eggs.
Okay, let me say that if you don't have any of the new green pans, you need to get at least one. The other day in a local Dollar General Store I fell prey to a "gotcha" display and bought at quite a decent price a 10" skillet with the new green finish. Since I'm yammering about it, I ought to provide more information on them, but I simply don't want to go out fishing for it. Suffice to say, it's a non-stick finish more durable than the original teflon we fell in love with. It's not supposed to peel off like teflon eventually does, and not supposed to pose the health problems that disintegrating teflon does.
All I can say at this point is that this is the easiest skillet to clean I have ever owned in my life. It's a nice heavy one - by that I mean it's stocky enough to heat evenly without being as heavy as cast iron. So far, it doesn't seem to matter what I cook in it, all I have to do is spray it with water, run the light-weight scrubbing brush around it, and tip it over into the drainer to dry.
And just because I'm rereading David Weber's "March to the Sea" which quotes part of this poem, and I'd heard it ages ago, before we first went in to war in Afghanistan, here's a stanza of a poem, "The Young British Soldier" written by Rudyard Kipling in 1895. I remember wondering what the hell America had gotten itself into when it didn't go in, smash the Taliban to smithereens, find Osama Bin Laden at the outset, and get the hell out.
Afghanistan has been conquered by no country. The British Empire fled, the Soviets fled, and I wish we would flee before 2014. How stupidly egotistical our military was and is. And yes, I'm an Air Force veteran who disagrees with the big boys in Washington.
The Young British Soldier, Rudyard Kipling, 1895
....When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An'go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier....
Around Arlington and Bardwell, McCormicks was the stock spice for ages, mostly still is. It comes in itty bitty tins and costs far too much. When I can, I tend to buy spices in tiendas (Mexican stores) where they are reasonably priced and British or Hungarian brands, same thing. A lot of my fiber friends buy online from Penzeys, which they swear by, but I've not tried. I figure my palate isn't delicate enough to discern the difference.
Likely I use more powdered mustard than most around here. I make my own mayonnaise, and only use powdered mustard for that. I don't know anyone else who makes their own mayo, which I find weird considering how easy it is. At least I know what I'm eating and am not eating strange chemicals in it. I get enough of those in things I can't control. I also like to use powdered mustard in my deviled eggs.
Okay, let me say that if you don't have any of the new green pans, you need to get at least one. The other day in a local Dollar General Store I fell prey to a "gotcha" display and bought at quite a decent price a 10" skillet with the new green finish. Since I'm yammering about it, I ought to provide more information on them, but I simply don't want to go out fishing for it. Suffice to say, it's a non-stick finish more durable than the original teflon we fell in love with. It's not supposed to peel off like teflon eventually does, and not supposed to pose the health problems that disintegrating teflon does.
All I can say at this point is that this is the easiest skillet to clean I have ever owned in my life. It's a nice heavy one - by that I mean it's stocky enough to heat evenly without being as heavy as cast iron. So far, it doesn't seem to matter what I cook in it, all I have to do is spray it with water, run the light-weight scrubbing brush around it, and tip it over into the drainer to dry.
And just because I'm rereading David Weber's "March to the Sea" which quotes part of this poem, and I'd heard it ages ago, before we first went in to war in Afghanistan, here's a stanza of a poem, "The Young British Soldier" written by Rudyard Kipling in 1895. I remember wondering what the hell America had gotten itself into when it didn't go in, smash the Taliban to smithereens, find Osama Bin Laden at the outset, and get the hell out.
Afghanistan has been conquered by no country. The British Empire fled, the Soviets fled, and I wish we would flee before 2014. How stupidly egotistical our military was and is. And yes, I'm an Air Force veteran who disagrees with the big boys in Washington.
The Young British Soldier, Rudyard Kipling, 1895
....When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An'go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier....
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Extreme Tact and Cool
Extreme tact. What is extreme tact? This is tact that goes so far beyond being tactful that it begs the question, "Why the hell didn't you just say...so and so?" This morning, after staying up until 4:00 a.m., my mother decided to get up at 9:30 a.m. Me, sleeping on the sofa, sort of woke up and realized she was up and went back to sleep. At 11:30 a.m. I finally began to wake up, and moved around a bit. My mother, keying on this, sang out to the living room, "Gayle? Have you had breakfast yet?"
So, to save myself from thinking this is tact going beyond the point of stupidity, I have to remind myself it is coming from a woman with no mind power. She's sat for 2 hours not more than 4 feet from me sound asleep on the sofa, and she asks, "Have you had breakfast yet?"
I know I have the tact of a door knob. My husband has worked with me for 20 years to improve this fault. He still needs to remind me of it. But, seriously, what the hell is wrong with simply saying, "Gayle, honey, I'm really hungry. Would you mind getting us some breakfast?"
So, to save myself from thinking this is tact going beyond the point of stupidity, I have to remind myself it is coming from a woman with no mind power. She's sat for 2 hours not more than 4 feet from me sound asleep on the sofa, and she asks, "Have you had breakfast yet?"
I know I have the tact of a door knob. My husband has worked with me for 20 years to improve this fault. He still needs to remind me of it. But, seriously, what the hell is wrong with simply saying, "Gayle, honey, I'm really hungry. Would you mind getting us some breakfast?"
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Lola Update 09/27/12
A few words of update on Lola. She seems to be declining a bit more lately. It's getting harder and harder to get her up out of the bed. She has a little hacking cough at times. However, her appetite is as good as ever.
Getting Lola out of the bed is troublesome. She's slipping more and more into simply sleeping. I know that if I weren't here, she'd simply lay in bed until she died. I face a dilemma whenever I go to get her up - it startles her so much to be awakened, and I hate to make her feel that way, yet if I don't force her to get up, she'll get progressively weaker and not be awake long enough to eat enough to nourish her body.
Getting Lola out of the bed is troublesome. She's slipping more and more into simply sleeping. I know that if I weren't here, she'd simply lay in bed until she died. I face a dilemma whenever I go to get her up - it startles her so much to be awakened, and I hate to make her feel that way, yet if I don't force her to get up, she'll get progressively weaker and not be awake long enough to eat enough to nourish her body.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Paying Bills and Stores Changing
I've become a hermit, seriously. If I don't absolutely have to go out, I don't. In regard to paying bills, here, again, is the sweet spot of living in a small community. The cable bill is the same each month, and they do automatic billing, so that's set on automatic withdrawal. The electric, water and gas are different. The amounts change each month, and none of those do automatic billing. Well, maybe the electric does by now - it's been nearly 3 years.
Frankly, I am the world's worst on mailing in checks. I'm quite full of good intentions, which fall by the wayside. I am so spoiled by living in cities where every single bill can be set up on automatic, that for the life of me, I cannot handle actually writing a check, sticking it in an envelope, smacking a stamp on it, and mailing it. How friggin sad is that?
However, there is the nicest man that knocks on our door from the electric company who says, "Hi, dear. If ya don't pay, your lights go out." I quickly get the checkbook and pay, gladly. I keep thinking I must pay this darned bill in a timely fashon. But, but, but, I like the man that knocks on the door. Besides Uncle Charles, Aunt Agnes, and occasionally Julia, Jill and Jeanne, and Sheila, with a car payment, I don't have visitors. The electric man chats a few minutes while I write the check. He tells me about the new house he and his wife have moved into, and it lights up my whole day.
The City Clerk, Anita, calls me, and in not these words, says, Gayle, get your butt down here and pay the water bill or we'll cut it off. Occasionally, she misses a call, and when I realize I can't run water for coffee, I get cleaned up and walk into her office with a hang-dog look and pay the bill. Then we laugh, chat if the office is empty, and that makes my day.
On stores changing, Hocker's is changing as the times change. From the time I can remember, Hocker's had one big grocery store room and a room off of that that housed appliances and furniture for sale. At some point in time while I was away, they acquired the store next to them and brought in more appliances. Yet as the times changed so has their market, and they are doing a good job of adapting.
After the hardware store in Bardwell closed down last year, Hocker's started carrying more household repair items in the room next to the grocery and moved most of the appliances into the third room. I hope that works for them, and I'm glad because a lot of houses around have seriously old electrical systems, and finding fuses for this old house is frustrating.
But the upstairs of the second room always held furniture. There is a large wooden staircase, at least 8 feet wide, in the center of the room that leads to the second floor. There's a loft that runs around the front of the room, and they always had sofas, chairs, beds, kitchen tables, whatever you needed for a house on that second floor. My grandmother's chest of drawers from I don't know when had a Hocker's stamp on the back of it; it was likely bought in the 1920's. Jill and I tormented our mothers running up there the minute we hit the store.
Today I decided I was over the chairs in Lola's house, and that it was time to buy a comfortable recliner. While Joe was here, it wouldn't have worked as he would have thrown a fit. Since Mother can't even remember that Joe is dead, I figure she'll deal with a new chair in the house. Now, I knew that Hocker's was cutting back on it's furniture but still hoped they'd have a chair I'd like. I mean, really, I'm going to have either pay a $50 delivery fee to get a recliner from Paducah or beg help in getting a ten-ton chair out of the pickup truck and into the house.
So I walk into Hocker's, and to my dismay there wasn't stick one of furniture on the second floor. I nearly cried. On the one hand, I don't want to be one of those old women who simply can't adapt to changing times, but on the other hand, there are some things you just don't want to let go of.
Frankly, I am the world's worst on mailing in checks. I'm quite full of good intentions, which fall by the wayside. I am so spoiled by living in cities where every single bill can be set up on automatic, that for the life of me, I cannot handle actually writing a check, sticking it in an envelope, smacking a stamp on it, and mailing it. How friggin sad is that?
However, there is the nicest man that knocks on our door from the electric company who says, "Hi, dear. If ya don't pay, your lights go out." I quickly get the checkbook and pay, gladly. I keep thinking I must pay this darned bill in a timely fashon. But, but, but, I like the man that knocks on the door. Besides Uncle Charles, Aunt Agnes, and occasionally Julia, Jill and Jeanne, and Sheila, with a car payment, I don't have visitors. The electric man chats a few minutes while I write the check. He tells me about the new house he and his wife have moved into, and it lights up my whole day.
The City Clerk, Anita, calls me, and in not these words, says, Gayle, get your butt down here and pay the water bill or we'll cut it off. Occasionally, she misses a call, and when I realize I can't run water for coffee, I get cleaned up and walk into her office with a hang-dog look and pay the bill. Then we laugh, chat if the office is empty, and that makes my day.
On stores changing, Hocker's is changing as the times change. From the time I can remember, Hocker's had one big grocery store room and a room off of that that housed appliances and furniture for sale. At some point in time while I was away, they acquired the store next to them and brought in more appliances. Yet as the times changed so has their market, and they are doing a good job of adapting.
After the hardware store in Bardwell closed down last year, Hocker's started carrying more household repair items in the room next to the grocery and moved most of the appliances into the third room. I hope that works for them, and I'm glad because a lot of houses around have seriously old electrical systems, and finding fuses for this old house is frustrating.
But the upstairs of the second room always held furniture. There is a large wooden staircase, at least 8 feet wide, in the center of the room that leads to the second floor. There's a loft that runs around the front of the room, and they always had sofas, chairs, beds, kitchen tables, whatever you needed for a house on that second floor. My grandmother's chest of drawers from I don't know when had a Hocker's stamp on the back of it; it was likely bought in the 1920's. Jill and I tormented our mothers running up there the minute we hit the store.
Today I decided I was over the chairs in Lola's house, and that it was time to buy a comfortable recliner. While Joe was here, it wouldn't have worked as he would have thrown a fit. Since Mother can't even remember that Joe is dead, I figure she'll deal with a new chair in the house. Now, I knew that Hocker's was cutting back on it's furniture but still hoped they'd have a chair I'd like. I mean, really, I'm going to have either pay a $50 delivery fee to get a recliner from Paducah or beg help in getting a ten-ton chair out of the pickup truck and into the house.
So I walk into Hocker's, and to my dismay there wasn't stick one of furniture on the second floor. I nearly cried. On the one hand, I don't want to be one of those old women who simply can't adapt to changing times, but on the other hand, there are some things you just don't want to let go of.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Just Thoughts on Lola and Me
Just wanted to make a post to record some odd thoughts and different things.
Last night, I just let Lola sleep in her chair. She stayed up so late that I thought she'd never give it up. When I finally cried "uncle," - it was after 5 a.m. - I was fed up with her and didn't want to mess with changing diapers and clothes. So I just covered her with a throw and plopped her chair into full recline, said good night, and left her to it.
Of course, she was up and moving before noon, but I wasn't ready to face the day. I've allowed her to totally screw up my day and night cycle. In the afternoon, when I finally agreed to sit up and acknowledge I would have to live, she had been up and moving.
Lindsey Stirling New Video
Lindsey Stirling has just uploaded another eye- and ear-candy video. Just love that gal!
Meatless Sausage From Food Storage By Imstillworkin
Here is a video put together by Imstillworkin over at youtube.com. This seems to be a fabulous recipe for emergencies - electricity is out for a long time, stores are closed, and you're out of breakfast meat. Of course, it's also pretty good for any vegetarians in your life or if you're trying to cut back on meat and fat in your diet.
The link she followed on the internet for the recipe is here.
The link she followed on the internet for the recipe is here.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Zito Media
You know, I’ve not been one to post a bunch of complaints
about consumer services, but I've had it with Zito Media. Zito has
provided the absolute worst service for internet connection that we’ve
experienced since 1995. That’s 17 years. What a reputation for a company – the worst
service in 17 years.
Max and I have had cable internet connection via Comcast
since 1995. We had it in Oak Ridge; we transferred it to Harriman when we
bought a house there. We transferred it to Memphis when we moved to Memphis.
Occasionally while we were living in Harriman we had a bit of trouble with
connection, but we also knew that Harriman had infrastructure issues. We love our Comcast account.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Lola Update 9/13/2012
Lola is puttering along just fine. I think I see a bit more of diminishing mind. Lately, she's been unsure how to put her bottom dentures in. After I hand them to her, she frequently asks if she's holding them the right way to put them in. Mostly she is. However, she's more frequently putting her fingers in the denture glue and not realizing how to hold them to avoid messing up the glue or her fingers.
Her ability to communicate with me has been a problem, and I thought it was bad before. It's getting even worse lately. When I wake up in the morning, and she has come into the living room and sat down in her chair, she never ever greets me anymore. She used to do that when I sat up from the sofa and indicated "let's get this day started."
Her ability to communicate with me has been a problem, and I thought it was bad before. It's getting even worse lately. When I wake up in the morning, and she has come into the living room and sat down in her chair, she never ever greets me anymore. She used to do that when I sat up from the sofa and indicated "let's get this day started."
The Fish Butcher and Eric Ripert
Yes!!!! I found a clip of Justo Thomas. It's in one of Eric Ripert's "Avec Eric", which makes sense since Justo Thomas is the fish butcher at Eric Ripert's restaurant La Bernadin.
Go to about 14 minutes 4 seconds if you just want to see Justo.
http://www.hulu.com/watch/187638
That episode also has a recipe for what looks like a lovely scallop dish. I love good big, fresh scallops. They're hard to find around here.
On January 12, 2016, I edited this post, because I originally said to go to 4 minutes, when actually the clips of Justo are at about 14 minutes. Sorry and apologies to anyone I unintentionally misled.
Go to about 14 minutes 4 seconds if you just want to see Justo.
http://www.hulu.com/watch/187638
That episode also has a recipe for what looks like a lovely scallop dish. I love good big, fresh scallops. They're hard to find around here.
On January 12, 2016, I edited this post, because I originally said to go to 4 minutes, when actually the clips of Justo are at about 14 minutes. Sorry and apologies to anyone I unintentionally misled.
Boys, 4-Wheelers and Insurance Commercials
The boys across the street have a four wheeler. I sit here in the den and watch them riding that 4-wheeler. It's a gas. It's absolutely amazing how entertained those boys are by riding that 4-wheeler in circles/squares around that yard. In the last 2 years they've worn a path on the left/east side of the lawn.
As an adult, you know how quickly kids tire of things. Yet, for the past 2.5 years, those kids have ridden that 4-wheeler around and around that yard. They're still not tired of it. Amazing.
Unum is showing a commercial on hulu that's driving me nuts. It's portraying people acting as if health benefits aren't important, as if they were young and thought they'd never need benefits. I think the people at Unum that approved this ad must be rich. I don't know any middle class person that acts like they don't need health insurance.
As an adult, you know how quickly kids tire of things. Yet, for the past 2.5 years, those kids have ridden that 4-wheeler around and around that yard. They're still not tired of it. Amazing.
Unum is showing a commercial on hulu that's driving me nuts. It's portraying people acting as if health benefits aren't important, as if they were young and thought they'd never need benefits. I think the people at Unum that approved this ad must be rich. I don't know any middle class person that acts like they don't need health insurance.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
The King and I
This is just a quick post to keep a memory. Tonight we had another storm go through, and of course, it knocked the cable and internet out for a while. Last week I struggled to find a movie for Mom to watch. This time I found a DVD of "Anna and the King" which I put in for mother to watch. She has sat there enthralled.
It brought to mind a poignant memory for me. Many years ago either Mom or Jeanne, I bet Jeanne, procured tickets for a stage production of Yul Brenner in "The King and I" in Nashville. Jeanne, Jill, Mom and I went to see it. We sat in a balcony so high up I was scared to move. But I will never ever forget going to see that production. Mom has forgotten it.
I forget so much of my life. That's one reason for this blog. Yet seeing that play with Jeanne, Jill, and Mom has stayed in my memory.
It brought to mind a poignant memory for me. Many years ago either Mom or Jeanne, I bet Jeanne, procured tickets for a stage production of Yul Brenner in "The King and I" in Nashville. Jeanne, Jill, Mom and I went to see it. We sat in a balcony so high up I was scared to move. But I will never ever forget going to see that production. Mom has forgotten it.
I forget so much of my life. That's one reason for this blog. Yet seeing that play with Jeanne, Jill, and Mom has stayed in my memory.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Cooking Tuna with Jose Andres
This post is to include a link to a show featuring Washington, D.C., chef Jose Andres in a show he did called "Made In Spain" cooking dishes with tuna. Here is the link:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/60535
For those not used to a Spanish accent, Andres has a fairly strong one. Just remember that the letters -cia, z, and s in the middle of words usually sound like "th" to us, and the letter v sounds like a "b." For example, the area Galecia (Ga-lee-see-ah to us) sounds like: Ga-lee-thi-ah. The area Valencia (to us Va-len-see-ah) sounds like: Bah-len-thi-ah.
The first dish he makes is a tapa called Ensaladilla Rusa, which is actually a potato salad with tuna, and he tops it with trout roe. The potato salad is different from what we're used to in the U.S., or at least in my area, in that it also has cooked carrots and green peas. I can hear Max groaning now. Andres made an olive oil mayonnaise, which I have to admit has me groaning. He also used balsamic vinegar as the acid. I've tried using only olive oil for mayo, and it went straight in the garbage pail. Goes to show my appalling lack of taste, I guess.
The next segment of the show is shot at sea as the fishermen fish for tuna, the bluefin. Then he goes into a restaurant famed for its treatment of tuna and shows various dishes and treatments of tuna.
Following that Andres goes back to his home in D.C. to do a dish. I had to just shake my head because the man started the segment with a block of tuna that would likely cost $100 at the very least. Yep, I'm gonna run down to my local Kroger and pick up a block of tuna a foot long, 4-5" wide, and 2" tall. Mebbe after I win the lottery.
Other than the appalling waste of food used in filming cooking shows, though, I've enjoyed the series. In keeping with my effort to refine my taste enough to like fish, I wanted to keep track of the recipes and methods shown.
As an aside, I have looked and looked but been unable to find a clip of Justo Thomas going about his day as the fish butcher of Le Bernadin, Eric Ripert's restaurant. I've found a few showing Mr. Thomas filleting a fish, but that's not what I want. I remember watching a full segment of him. I think it was filmed by Anthony Bourdain, and must have come from one of the "No Reservations" shows.
Justo Thomas is an amazing fish butcher who daily prepares at least 700 pounds of fish for Le Bernadin. Ripert states that when Thomas is on vacation it takes 3 people working 12-hour days to replace Thomas. Wouldn't most of us love that kind of job security!
http://www.hulu.com/watch/60535
For those not used to a Spanish accent, Andres has a fairly strong one. Just remember that the letters -cia, z, and s in the middle of words usually sound like "th" to us, and the letter v sounds like a "b." For example, the area Galecia (Ga-lee-see-ah to us) sounds like: Ga-lee-thi-ah. The area Valencia (to us Va-len-see-ah) sounds like: Bah-len-thi-ah.
The first dish he makes is a tapa called Ensaladilla Rusa, which is actually a potato salad with tuna, and he tops it with trout roe. The potato salad is different from what we're used to in the U.S., or at least in my area, in that it also has cooked carrots and green peas. I can hear Max groaning now. Andres made an olive oil mayonnaise, which I have to admit has me groaning. He also used balsamic vinegar as the acid. I've tried using only olive oil for mayo, and it went straight in the garbage pail. Goes to show my appalling lack of taste, I guess.
The next segment of the show is shot at sea as the fishermen fish for tuna, the bluefin. Then he goes into a restaurant famed for its treatment of tuna and shows various dishes and treatments of tuna.
Following that Andres goes back to his home in D.C. to do a dish. I had to just shake my head because the man started the segment with a block of tuna that would likely cost $100 at the very least. Yep, I'm gonna run down to my local Kroger and pick up a block of tuna a foot long, 4-5" wide, and 2" tall. Mebbe after I win the lottery.
Other than the appalling waste of food used in filming cooking shows, though, I've enjoyed the series. In keeping with my effort to refine my taste enough to like fish, I wanted to keep track of the recipes and methods shown.
As an aside, I have looked and looked but been unable to find a clip of Justo Thomas going about his day as the fish butcher of Le Bernadin, Eric Ripert's restaurant. I've found a few showing Mr. Thomas filleting a fish, but that's not what I want. I remember watching a full segment of him. I think it was filmed by Anthony Bourdain, and must have come from one of the "No Reservations" shows.
Justo Thomas is an amazing fish butcher who daily prepares at least 700 pounds of fish for Le Bernadin. Ripert states that when Thomas is on vacation it takes 3 people working 12-hour days to replace Thomas. Wouldn't most of us love that kind of job security!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Steampunk and Junk TV
Watching a foodie show the other day, I was tickled to hear a man in Australia talking about the label he drew up for a small winery he started. The winery name was Moon. The man said he'd lived in the northern hemisphere for so long, he simply drew a moon for the label, and they got a bunch printed. Yet one evening he was walking outside when he looked up at the moon in the southern hemisphere and thought, "oh, shit, I drew it the wrong way."
Max stopped by Sunday on his way back from Dragon Con. He was bushed from the long drive from Atlanta in the early morning to far western Kentucky in one go. He sat on his keister all evening, and we watched back to back episodes of Storage Wars, i.e., junk TV.
I've put in a pic of him in his Dragon Con get up. He was dressed up steampunk style. I think his punk was a little sparse, but he had fun, and that's what counts.
The temps around here have finally actually gone below 90F for rare amounts of time. That's usually after 9 p.m., but we may be seeing the time when it becomes bearable to go outside. I mean, it's a bit after noon here right now, and it's only gotten to 88F.
I was hoping Max would be able to till the garden in the first few weeks of September, but it'll be the middle of the month I suppose. He's going to be on call next weekend, so it'll be the 15th before he can attempt it. Watch, it'll rain that weekend.
I've put in a pic of him in his Dragon Con get up. He was dressed up steampunk style. I think his punk was a little sparse, but he had fun, and that's what counts.
The temps around here have finally actually gone below 90F for rare amounts of time. That's usually after 9 p.m., but we may be seeing the time when it becomes bearable to go outside. I mean, it's a bit after noon here right now, and it's only gotten to 88F.
I was hoping Max would be able to till the garden in the first few weeks of September, but it'll be the middle of the month I suppose. He's going to be on call next weekend, so it'll be the 15th before he can attempt it. Watch, it'll rain that weekend.
Lola Update 09/04/12
On Sunday I jotted a few notes about things to consider addressing or documenting here. Let's see if I can pull the thread of them together.
As I've said many times, I think the major thing that bothers me the most about my parents' slide into the end of their lives has been their slide into mindlessness. I keep hoping that once this is over that I will gradually forget the hopelessness, anger and stress the caretaker suffers. There are many acquaintances who assure me this is so.
I really do hope so. Because right now I am more or less, depending upon recent events, extremely angry that all humans don't just pop off this mortal coil in one fell swoop but that some lose the vital integrity of their makeup and become either uncontrollable, aggressive animals or mindless hunks of flesh.
With my parents, I've had the sad endurance of both. My dad became extremely aggressive and uncontrollable. My mother has become a body with a bare hint left of the essence of her as a person.
On Saturday, I think it was Saturday, we had a major storm front blow through as a result of Hurricane Issac. Fortunately, most of the harshest parts of the storm passed either to the north or the south of our little town. Unfortunately, if any harsh weather passes to the north of us, our cable provider coughs and dies immediately. Sometime I think all it has to do is look like it's going to rain, and the internet side of our cable service goes tits up.
As I've said many times, I think the major thing that bothers me the most about my parents' slide into the end of their lives has been their slide into mindlessness. I keep hoping that once this is over that I will gradually forget the hopelessness, anger and stress the caretaker suffers. There are many acquaintances who assure me this is so.
I really do hope so. Because right now I am more or less, depending upon recent events, extremely angry that all humans don't just pop off this mortal coil in one fell swoop but that some lose the vital integrity of their makeup and become either uncontrollable, aggressive animals or mindless hunks of flesh.
With my parents, I've had the sad endurance of both. My dad became extremely aggressive and uncontrollable. My mother has become a body with a bare hint left of the essence of her as a person.
On Saturday, I think it was Saturday, we had a major storm front blow through as a result of Hurricane Issac. Fortunately, most of the harshest parts of the storm passed either to the north or the south of our little town. Unfortunately, if any harsh weather passes to the north of us, our cable provider coughs and dies immediately. Sometime I think all it has to do is look like it's going to rain, and the internet side of our cable service goes tits up.
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