I'm Finally Doing This...

~Folks, I am going to be losing some weight because I am having these 'toofies' of mine taken care of!~

For a long while now, I have been having dental problems. In general, I started having bone problems a while before my Sarcoidosis diagnosis. I cracked a rib sneezing once and didn't think much about it. I was told that it does happen. Once I was diagnosed. my doctors scheduled regular bone density scans - I think it was every other year at first, but I will be having one soon after a three-year lag.

I always told people that my bone and teeth issues were from one of the medicines I take. I was completely wrong. The bone problems are from the sarcoidosis. Aside from every other horrible thing about this disease, it causes bone loss. 

My dental issues started over a year after the diagnosis. I cracked a front tooth and had to have a crown put in. The dentist mentioned the bone loss in my jaw and said I would have to think about doing something about it at some point. At the time, all my other teeth seemed okay. Fast forward to about 4 years ago and, yeah, the problem got worse.

At first, my canines were just a little loose. Then some of the teeth on the side got weak. I was at a family barbecue and when I took a bit of meat, I felt one of my bottom side teeth shift and when I released the meat the tooth lifted up a bit. Good Lord! 

I slowly started losing teeth until I couldn't even smile at people without wanting to cringe. When I finally saw a dentist, the skies opened and I heard harps. My insurance would cover everything - removals and replacements. I was thrilled for 2 days. Then I got the call that this particular dentist wouldn't be able to treat me because of my sarcoidosis. He worked in a community clinic and was concerned about liability.

That was 2 years ago. I felt like I was being punished or something. Some other people were going to the clinic and having their dental work done. A neighbor of mine had her extractions and dentures done within a few weeks.

I wasn't being punished, I was being blessed. Had I been treated by that first dentist, I might be doing what my neighbor is doing: not wearing her dentures and complaining about the work that was done in her mouth. 

As I have learned to do in my older age, I prayed about the situation. I found another dentist but they were a few hours away and I didn't feel good about the practice. Then, one day, my little brother noticed a dental office right down the street from where I live. The practice is well-spoken of around town and the staff was lovely. The dentist is a young dude (I joke that "he's ten!") and happens to be a Christian.

On Wednesday, I'm having all of my upper teeth removed.  We are doing things in stages so I have time to heal after each appointment.

I am anxious, excited, nervous, and happy. Thanks to my family, I don't have to worry about anything my insurance doesn't cover. When I tell people I'm blessed, they think I'm just saying it, the way people say "Have a nice day". When I say I'm blessed, I'm giving my testimony. 

I will end this now and try to come back to update you on the process.

Peace

--Free

Another Day, Another Ache

 Today, I ordered some arnica gel for my aches and pains. While I was at it, I thought of ordering this t-shirt but, nah. I resent that it's a young chick modeling it!

Young body & young skin. So I cropped off her head!

The good thing is, I wasn't upset in the least about having to order the arnica gel. I just hope it works as well (or at all!) as the reviewers claim. 

What prompted me to even think about getting the arnica is funny. I walked around the apartment for a couple of weeks seriously thinking I had a flu bug. Turns out, my body aches (apparently) because that is what aged bodies are best at... 

My little brother and his wife were over the other day for dinner. I made the mistake of sitting on the floor afterward as we talked and had coffee. My brother had to help me when I was ready to stand up again. (He's not laughing though because he's right behind me on the age train!)

So, yah, I'm gonna give the arnica a try. The Tylenol isn't working. The Ibuprofen works really well but I'm not supposed to take that - so, of course, it's the one that works.

Shout out to Tracie for the truth!

I can remember being young and spry. I really just could not understand why my mother walked and moved the way she did. For a long time, I thought it was because she had bunions (which I wasn't sure was a real thing back then!). Nope. Turns out, she was just aging. Her feet didn't hurt, her entire body ached. And now I am where she was. It always startles me to remember that this is my 7th decade in this temporary existence. I just said that out loud and... Wow!

The thing about aging is how it sneaks up on you in stages. One day, you notice the lines on your face, and then you notice you can't lose 10 pounds just by cutting out bread for the weekend. Finally, the aches and pains start haunting you. Two years ago, I could still sit down on the floor, cross-legged for hours. I had only a little bit of trouble getting up. Fast forward to the other day when the family and I had a 5-minute giggling spell over my brother trying to help me up while my SIL moved furniture out of the way.

My 11-year-old great-nephew and I were having one of our regular after-school phone conversations recently when he asked how old am. I told him and he thought about it for a minute, then he asked me not to die soon. My late sister and I raised his mom, so I am sort of a Grammy to him. When she died, he was just old enough to be sad but just young enough not to fully understand exactly why.

I tried to assure him that I had no plans to die soon, "the good Lord willing". I don't know if that made my sweetie pie feel any better but I'm now prepping for our future conversations on the subject.

Meanwhile, I am happy in my "old age" and still laugh at times like a silly kid and I really do feel like a teenager sometimes. I am still awed by the beauty I see in nature. There are nights when I stare up at the stars like a child seeing them for the first time. 

When I wake up tomorrow, stiff and creaky, I am going to be thankful for another day. I have been blessed to live long enough to know what true beauty is, and what does and doesn't matter in life. I have a family who loves me and friends who do too. Whenever I do die, my nephew will know that mine has been a good life.

Peace

--Free

Let's Normalize Common Sense

 People. We need to start a grassroots campaign for making common sense common. As the tech-smart folks say, let's make that trend!

I've come up with a basic platform. Feel free to add to it, but here goes:

• Let's start acting our ages. Tweens, enjoy being too young to be adults. Stop worrying about developing your online persona and start worrying about developing a solid personality.  Enjoy not having to worry about sex and drama and trends. Enjoy being able to giggle, be silly and be kids.
• Spend more actual face time with each other. Families and friends: pick up the phone and call each other. I like to get my news personalized and direct to me - not with every person on your social media "friend" or "family" list. Sometimes, I just like to hear your voice, tell you a secret, and share a laugh. Sometimes I want to really actually connect just one on one.
• Let's start writing letters again. On paper. I miss being able to retrieve letters from that one friend or "special someone". I miss having that stash of old love letters or birthday cards. I miss the very personal touch and knowing that someone took the time to sit down and write me a letter I could keep and hold after they are gone.
• Let's bring back 2-parent families. I'm not saying that single parenting is bad, I'm saying that, when possible and healthy, 2 parents are generally better. Even if those parents are separated or never were in a relationship, both mom and dad can be involved. And, let's include the grand and the aunties and uncles. Let's include trustworthy friends. Raising children is a big job for 2 people, let alone for one person. (I come from a "broken" home but I had both parents involved in my life and I had extended family to teach and help raise me.)
• Let's bring back family and/or friend dinners. Doesn't anyone else miss that one day when a special group gets together at one home or in a backyard or park? That day when it's just "us" having a meal and watching the kids run around together. Maybe you will have a night when it's just family and another when it's just friends? Maybe you can have a couple's night or a single friends' night?
• Let's bring back respect. Respect for those older and wiser than yourself. Respect for each other as human beings. 
• Speaking of respect, let's bring back self-respect. Respect yourselves enough to not objectify your own bodies. Respect yourself enough that others will also respect you. Respect yourself enough to be respectful toward others. 
• And even more on respect: let's get back to respecting public places. Respect enough not to curse and talk loud and foolishly. Respect enough not to litter and destroy places that others would like to enjoy. Respect enough to be civil in public even to those you don't agree with or like. 
• Let's bring back graciousness. Be polite and courteous. Be helpful when you can. Look out for the other person who might need looking out for. Let's forget the "girl code" and "bro code" and have the same care and concern for each other no matter your gender.
• Let's stop stereotyping and generalizing each other. Not all men or women or kids or blacks or white, etc are ~fill-in-the-blank~. Even when something is generally true, it's not universally true. People are all individual people. Not all people of a certain gender, generation, or race are the same as the worst person of that gender, generation, or race that you ever met.
• Let's bring back useful education - and not just for children. Let's bring back teaching how to do basic math and understand basic science and geography. Let's make it normal to pursue education outside the classrooms - for all ages. In this day and age, most of us have a wealth of resources to learn or re-learn basic classroom and/or life skills. Just because most of us have access to devices that multitask as maps, calculators, and phonebooks, let's not lose the ability to function without them. 
• Let's bring back holding politicians and other public figures accountable for good character.  Let's bring back scorn for blatant lying and moral failures. Let's stop labeling rudeness as being "brave" and "blunt". Let's stop making it admirable to be horrible. 
• Let's bring back civility in politics and public debate. Let's not normalize (any further) being nasty to each other in public forums.
• Let's bring back respect for the actual truth. Let's normalize having "alternative truth/facts" and everyone having an individual truth. There is such a thing as true and false. Everything else - your truth, my truth, etc. - is an opinion, theory, or individual belief.

Am I just being naive? Maybe. My parents used the saying about not being able to unring a bell. I get that. However, can we please muffle the echo before it destroys everything that is halfway decent about society?

Minus the racism and religious bias, I know why each generation longs for "the old days". Every generation has horrible social scars and embarrassing events. However, in spite of all the "progress" it seems that with each passing year, we are getting worse in more areas than we improve. 

(By the way, I am going to start with myself for everything on this list. For example, if I ever lost access to my phone, I wouldn't be able to provide a phone number for a kidnapper to call in a ransom demand. Not that I would have a ransom fund because I can almost no longer do simple math in my head when dealing with my budget. I was never good at math but I once was proud of my grammar and spelling prowess. Today, I rely on Grammarly and my phone's auto-correct. That's just sad.)

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I know that some parts of this post might be offensive to some. I hope that's not the case. I'm not trying to hurt or offend anyone. I am just doing some wishful thinking.

Just Something Beautiful

 Saw this on Reddit. So beautiful. I could look at this all day. 

I have a niece and nephew who are twins. I've heard them say things like, "it's a twin thing". Now I totally get it.

Peace

--Free

Milestones, Markers, and Guideposts

 A credit card company sent me an "anniversary" letter today. I applied for their card to save on my flight when I was moving here 4 years ago. Four years? Already?

Thinking of the stupid credit card anniversary had my mind sliding right into corners I try to avoid at times. I start to think of my life's milestones as mile markers. Let's mark the year this person died or that person. Let's mark the year since this or that. And when I am in a certain kind of mood, these markers that dot my life don't make me feel better.

I moved here a couple of years after my sister died. Another "anniversary" reminder. 

There is a piece of notepaper taped to the inside cover of my Bible. When I put it there about 2014, I started adding dates I was having trouble remembering because of the sarc that was creeping into my body. I had the marriage, birth, and death dates of my parents and grandparents. Birthdays of some of the nieces and nephews. Not too long of a list, really because I was adding things as I could recall them correctly.

2015 was the year when my list began growing. I had to add my sister's death, then a "play" sister, then aunts, uncles, ex-husbands... 

I hate to even look at that list now. I play a pointless and silly game with myself called "If I Don’t Look at It, the List Won’t Grow". I feel so faithless when I play that game.

Today, I caught myself about to play the game again and I stopped by asking God for comfort. When I made the brief prayer, I realized that not all is said and bleak. There are those wonderful points in life called Guideposts.

We saw this SOOO many times!

Guideposts - or what my dad used to call Travel Signs or something like that during the days we drove so much. We drove a lot. Whenever Daddy was given a new assignment, we drove from one Air Base station to another. We drove to visit family in Texas, Louisiana, South Carolina. I remember (very vaguely and with a dreamlike haze) driving through Wisconsin, Utah, and maybe even Florida? 

In those days of our family travels, there were no Google Maps or GPS. Mama was the navigator for Daddy, reading maps and watching for exits and turn-offs and signs that might be hidden behind branches or something. We ate bologna sandwiches from meat kept in a cooler and sometimes were given little sweets that Mama pulled out of her purse and handed around. It was during these years when I fell in love with Honey Buns. The Honey Buns back then were not the pitiful and puny little additive-laced things I sometimes pick up these days from around the store's checkout aisle. The packaged, ready-to-eat Honey Buns of my youth were never as good as what my mom and aunties could bake but they were so danged good. Thick and rich and gooey. The closest thing I can come to the taste now is packaged butter cake treat that Walmart sells.

So we would ride and eat bologna sandwiches and honey buns and get road-schooling. Daddy gave history, geography, and math lessons using scenery, locations, and travel mileage. He would often point out a marker or guidepost and tell us something about a place off to the east, west, south, or north of our location.

Even with my poor short--term and not-much-better long-term memory, I can recall some of the guideposts of that time. And I realize that my life - all our lives, really - are marked like any other journey.

What life sometimes feel like: 
beautiful and scary

I can't go in reverse to any of the markers in my life. I sometimes wish I could. For now, I just think back on them. 

That email from the credit card company bummed me out until I started writing this post. I came here to whine and then all the sad stuff in my head got knocked out by all the good stuff I can recall. There are going to be more markers in my life - good and bad. But isn't that beautiful? Isn't it just life? Even though it makes me sad sometimes, I'm glad for my life. One day, there will be Heaven and I won't even mourn the mortal markings and ditches and tears,

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I'm not the only one missing food from the '70s. I found a recipe here for a honey bun. I am going to have to call my almost 90-year-old auntie to see if she has a For Dummies recipe I can use! I couldn't even find one in my reliable cookbooks - 2 of them fairly ancient!

The top one is a heritage cookbook; the middle one (blue-ish) was given to me by a neighbor born and raised here in Iowa, and the bottom one is my favorite because it has so many dishes from before my mother's time.

The Beauty of Aging (or: In Case You Haven’t Been Warned Yet)

 If you have paid attention at all to the older people in your life, you might already know some of what I'm about to tell you. I thought I had paid attention and yet, here I am, getting surprised almost every day by some new aspect of growing older. 

I want to point out that aging is a wonderful thing. Whenever you feel bad about having to add another candle to the yearly cake, just think of the alternative. Aging is wondrous and amazing. You won't always feel that way about it, but there you go. By the way, for reference, I myself am not yet 60 but no longer 50. Here goes (and this list is in no particular order):

Some of this might make you laugh so maybe go pee first...

Bunions. When I saw the misshapen side-knuckle on one of my big toes, I thought I had broken a bone that was healing back wrong. 

Toenails. They get weird before you notice the bunions. One day, you no longer have cute little toenails that are normal. Somehow, when you weren't paying attention, your nails grew darker and thicker. Before you know it, you can never go polish-free without attracting stares from young people who cringe when you are wearing sandals. And good luck clipping these monsters without wearing safety goggles and warning anyone in the area to be ready to duck for cover at any moment.

Dry Feet. Of all the horrifying things that happened to my body as I got older, I think skin dryness has been the most annoying. But dry feet are on a whole other level. The only way I can explain it to you without showing photos (and that will never happen) is to tell you about the things I now have to use on my feet often: glycerin mixed with lotion mixed with oil mixed with anything that I think will soften, moisturize and camouflage the sandpaper that makes up my soles. Young people, I actually own tools that my SILs and I call foot-graters. Yes. Cheese-grater-type things made just for grating the dead, dry skin of the feet. Stop and think about that for a moment while you're mad about being too young to be old enough to do whatever thing you think we adults do that so fun. 

Your health runs your schedule. Seriously. I once had my brother and SIL turn around halfway through a 4-hour road trip because I left my pillbox at home. Talk about "not leaving home without it". I set my clock to take certain medicines so it's not done on an empty stomach. I don't do things that require me to leave the house most Thursdays, Fridays, and, possibly Saturday mornings. Or I rearrange my medicine schedule so that I can leave the house on those days.

More things make you gassy. And bloated and constipated or... very much not constipated. I have become a connoisseur of fiber supplements. I'm sure Amazon and Google are tracking me and shaking their heads in confusion about my buying fluctuations of laxatives and, um, non-laxatives...

Dark spots on the face. I don't know if these are the infamous "age spots" that cosmetic brands are always trying to warn us about or not. I just know that one day, I spent a few minutes inspecting a weird infected pimple on the side of my face before I realized that I had never seen a pimple that was so dark and resistant to all the home remedies for pimples. This thing was like a spot that wanted to be a cute beauty mole but decided to be ugly instead. I now have several of these tiny little things on my face. 

Your hair gets weird. It's true. My hair seems to go through a change with each passing decade. It's been coarser and less coarse; frizzy-dull and smooth-shiny; auburn-tinted, cinnamon-tinted, and grey-streaked. It's gone from thick and healthy but untameable to thick and lovely (that lasted about 6 years) to thick and needs so much work that I no longer just have a regular hair wash day but a day for deep conditioning, one for moisturizing only, and one for rotating products so my hair doesn't get bored and have a real hissy fit.

Your hair migrates. True again. And this one is lovely. The first migrating hair incident happened for me at work. I was sitting near the SIL I worked with at the time and she noticed me swatting at something on my face every now and then. She was curious. Was I being bothered by a pesky fly or mosquito or something? I told her that I couldn't get rid of a piece of lint or something on my chin. She came over to take a look and help me out. She then went into a fit of laughter. The "piece of lint or something" was a hair. A chin hair. A quite long and grey, hair the texture of a hair not found on the head but somewhere further down the body. I had chin hair. Okay, just one chin hair. Of course, I yanked that one right out but it had strong and deep roots. That thing comes back in the same exact spot ever so often and I have to take a pain pill, apply a numbing agent, and have someone to coach my breathing while I yank it out. If only the hair on my head was so strong.

Your favorite perfume will no longer be your favorite. It's a dry skin and changing body chemistry thing, folks. 

And growing older isn't all about giving up on a lot of vanities. There's the stuff that happens that will make you wonder if the 7-year cell renewal of the human body doesn't include just becoming a totally different person altogether.

Sleeping patterns change. Over the past decade of my life, I have gone through cycles of needing less sleep at night to needing more sleep during the day. For long stretches, I will have insomnia, then I suddenly turn into Rip Van Winkle. I think it was around the age of 40 that I learned to love naps. For a while, I couldn't sit through a television commercial without going into a drug-like nod. (I remember laughing at my mother who once admitted going to sleep in church and waking herself up with a snore.) Depending on what mood my wonderfully and fearfully made body is in, I need to spray myself down with magnesium oil to get a good nights sleep or I have to run through 3 refills of the water reservoir on the Keurig to make it through to noon without going into a narcoleptic coma.

Calories become very important. When I was younger - birth to mid-30s - I could eat Paris and not gain even half a pound. At around 40, the bread and cookies and Moose's Tooth pizza and all the other yummy food I loved began to show. Not much. I just grew a little bit of a backside and actually needed a bra that came in sizes more defined than Tween-to-Teen. It was kind of awesome. Until I suddenly had to actually start paying attention to the clothes I wore because not just any old thing I snatched off a rack looked great. I had to worry about button "gaps" and whether or not pants gave me a "muffin" or not. (We won't even talk about when I got sick and gained - never lost - a lot of prednisone weight.) I'm now to the point where choosing between having a piece of bread with lunch or dinner is a serious decision. 

On the other hand, my best friend struggled with keeping her weight down for years. As she ages, I often have to ask if she's eaten anything more than her usual fruit or half-sandwich. She "forgets" to eat. Food is just not as important to her as in yesteryear. Half of our conversational repertoire 5 years ago was sharing what yummy recipes we were going to be experimenting with. These days, she celebrates my weight losses and I cheer her gains. Life is strange.

Your tastebuds grow up. As a kid, I hated the usual things that kids tend to hate: liver and onions; broccoli with no cheese or dip; or anything halfway healthy or green that wasn't barbequed, fried, or served on a pizza.  I think I was close to 35 when I started to like juices made from beets and carrots and kale. And I'm not talking the sugar-swamped concoctions from trendy brands but the hippie-pure stuff from the organic aisles in health food stores. I even got into wheatgrass shots for a while when I was seeing a guy who was too much into ugly shoes and scratchy-fiber clothing for our relationship to flourish.

 About 15 years ago, I actually requested that my sister fix me some liver and onions "the way Mama used to make". And, boy, I never tasted anything so good as that. Since then, I have come to love collard greens and all kinds of beans (pinto, navy, lentil) and stews. I can literally have a meal of nothing but a bowl of steamed mixed vegetables with a little bit of salt and pepper. I once got on such a long collard green kick that the people at the store would see me headed to the product section and start picking out the best bunches for me. I have even very recently started seasoning my food with cayenne and red pepper flakes. Look at me!  (I still only like chitlins half-a-closed-eye bite at a time but chitlins aren't healthy so...)

One of the best things about growing older is that you take time to get to know people better, including yourself.

You become more sensitive to noise. I've become that cranky woman who gets extremely annoyed by loud chatter, loud music, loud TVs or radios, and anything louder than the thoughts I'm trying to hear in my head while your car stereo is shaking windows and scaring small children. 

You don't need a lot of friends. And you learn what it means to truly be a friend. My mother had a mantra that every child in our extended family heard: Not everyone is your "friend". She would teach us that we might think we knew a lot of people when we really only knew of them. More than acquaintances and less than friends. 

I have known lots of people throughout my life. "Friends" I made at work or via other people. People who passed in and out of my life. Most of them were like lightning bugs, lighting up and delighting me but only briefly. I have had 4 got-your-back, thick-and-thin friends in my entire life - not including my siblings who are always Team Me. Two of my friends are no longer alive here on earth. The other two friends? I could call them from the moon saying I want to come home and they would try to find a way.

You care more about some things and less about others. 

You realize you are both smarter than you thought and less intelligent than you always believed. "Book learning" has never come easily for me. I always had to study harder and concentrate deeper to even try keeping up with my brothers and sister. But some things can be learned if you study and concentrate. Some things come by living and making mistakes and watching. Wisdom is a real thing. Turn on the television or just sit back and listen to people. You will find that there are a lot of really stupid people labeled as "intelligent" and a lot of wise people who watch.

You grow to understand that everything is a choice. Even not making a choice is a choice. Christians out there will understand what I mean by this without any further ado. For everyone, doing or not doing, deciding or not deciding - be hot or cold but be not lukewarm.

You will become very well-acquainted with yourself. Not the 'you' that shows up at work or for lunch with friends. Not the 'you' at family get-togethers. You will spend more time with the ypu-person who has made your life choices and mistakes and wrong turns. For me, it took getting older to be both harder and easier on myself about my past. I had to look at the past as "what's done is done" but not let that be an excuse for any current actions.

You will find beauty & joy in different places and situations. As a cute (no modesty here!) and perky 20-something, I thought I knew what "beautiful" was. I thought I knew what would make me happy for life. I actually thought I knew these things! Imagine this: you don't like baked chicken. You really hate it - and especially if it's on the bone - not even the best-seasoned and most delicious chicken. Then you are stranded on an island with no food. All you have is a source of fresh water to keep you alive. You survive for weeks on this island (we're just imagining here so don't go factoid on me). Then, one day you are rescued by someone on a boat and all they have is fresh water to drink and baked chicken. Chicken on the bone. You won't reach land for another few weeks. How delicious do you think that baked chicken is going to taste? Probably like the best thing that any person ever ate before or will again.

As I get older, I know I haven't been starved of life or happiness. But I have gone through things that are just a natural part of living. These days, I find such beauty and joy in things I never had to pay much attention to. It might sound trite or corny to you but so many things in life represent that island survivor's meal. I can taste all the seasonings and nuances of flavor. I am appreciative and deeply satisfied in many ways. And because of life and how it can happen, I have fewer material riches than I ever have.

You will appreciate kindness in people maybe more than ever before.

You will find people attractive for different reasons than perhaps you did before.

You will realize how "rich" you are in ways that have nothing to do with money. I personally sometimes walk around my 650 square foot apartment and am amazed at how blessed I am. I feel like the richest person who ever lived. Don't let me mess around and have a day when I'm not sick or forgetful or physically off-balanced or depressed. Boy! That is a day that rivals anything any billionaire or celebrity can know.

These last bits won't be appreciated by just anyone. Those of you who don't believe in God might want to skip this.

Death becomes less frightening. I've not been afraid to die since I came to know the Lord. However... I often half-jokingly quip that it's not dying but the getting dead part that I'm afraid of. As I get older and older, I become less afraid of the "getting dead" part. 

I pray more for people who don't believe, even though some would hate me for that. The older I get, the older my former pop-culture favorites get. Michael Jackson, Prince, and Lady Di. I find myself mourning and wondering about the fate of people I didn't "follow" as a fan. Just in the recent past, there have been the reported deaths of members of former boy bands, video vixens, songwriters, actors and actresses, and sports "stars".

Of course, I pray that everyone will come to know the Lord before they die but we hear get so much news coverage of some deaths. And I wonder if they had a change of heart or if they cried out for forgiveness. I only wonder because I know that I could have been someone dying without salvation. 

You are bolder about sharing your "wisdom". I am not as shy about sharing what I have learned. If I think it's going to help someone else cope better with their depression and anxiety or whatever physical illness they have, I will try to speak up. I am not as shy about speaking to people about considering their eternal soul. 

I am getting older. Any of us could be taking our last breath right at this moment, but getting older makes death more "in-reach" in my thoughts. Day by day, I have less time to speak up about things so I'm taking my shot.

There is a reason my blog name is "Free".

Peace

--Free

Needed A Break (or one thing or another)

One Thing

I've been taking a break from social media and even this blog. This is the first time in a while that I haven't had any posts off to the side that I could schedule to have something posted in my absence.

I was prompted to dump social media when I went through a bad life event. Only a very few people knew what happened because there are only a very few people who stay in touch outside of social media. It was only after a few weeks that any more people knew what I had been going through and I realized that a lot of friends and family expect news - no matter how painful and personal - to be shared via Facebook. I refuse

this is SO perfectly my mood

to use Facebook (or Instagram, et al) for some things. I have decided that if someone has my phone number or home address, they just won't be hearing about some happenings in my life on Facebook.. So, basically, I now use Facebook and Instagram for the sharing of general information. My life is not for broadcast. At least the Real Housewives get paid for letting the world into their lives.

Anyway. That rant is over.

The Next Thing

Being away from Facebook and Instagram has been pretty awesome. I hadn't realized how much those platforms are like bad carbs: kind of yummy in the moment but with awful payback. I'm still not on the 'Book or the 'Gram but I missed my blog so here I am.

My body seems to be in rebellion. In just about a month's time, I've had 2 colds. The best thing about all that is that I'm down more pounds than when I am actively dieting. How sad is it that this is a life highlight?

On the serious side, I have lost my appetite for most foods. I am going to have to ask my docs about that on the next appointment. For the past I'd say 3 weeks, all I have been able to eat is rice and vegetables. Brown rice and white rice. I just have no taste for anything else. I did lose one of my back teeth - probably from the bone-depleting meds I am on - but losing a tooth has never stopped me enjoying my food! Right now, I could teach a course in ways to eat rice. I've had rice with mixed vegetables, rice with collard greens, rice with bits of ham, rice with soy sauce, rice with egg, rice with creamed soups, rice with vanilla soy milk and nutmeg, and rice with just a little butter and salt and pepper.

I don't think that the mainly-rice diet is hurting me any because I am no more fatigued than usual. I actually think that I feel somewhat better. If I could kick the fatigue and keep my brain halfway straight for ten minutes at a time, I would be a pretty happy gal.

And, yes, I realize that I am kind of rambling here. This is, after all, a catch-up post. So what else has been happening?

I have jumped onto the probiotics bandwagon. I decided to give them a try when I started losing my appetite. I did a little bit of research and tried one brand that worked great but was out of my budget. I am now trying another brand that is both pro- and pre-biotic. They do seem to make my stomach feel better. I am a lot more, ~cough~ regular than normal. So, there's that bit of oversharing of news...

Another Thing

Let's get back to ranting for a moment. Maybe someone out there will be able to relate to this one better and maybe even help me out with some advice. Let me lay this out for you:

I was using my laptop to check my email one day about a month ago. This was right after one of those irritating Microsoft updates that happened when I rebooted the computer. So, I am checking my mail and I  four accounts so I have 4 tabs open, plus I had another tab up to moderate blog comments. After being online for about ten minutes, my computer started making this noise - like the fan (?) was over-revving. It got to the point where the whole computer was vibrating.

Of course, I shut it down immediately. I was afraid that it was overheating or something.

I felt like weeping. One thing I do NOT need right now is computer problems. I just lowered my cellphone bill and cut back on a couple of other bills. There is no way that I can afford to replace my computer. Honestly, I can't even afford to have my computer repaired at this point.

I used some compressed air to clear out any dust and that wasn't the problem. I am very fussy about keeping my computer clean and maintained so I didn't expect dust to be the problem anyway. I decided to just let the computer rest for the time being.

To keep from using the computer until I could figure out what was going on, I use my phone and search for "Why is my ASUS vibrating and making noise" (or it was something like that) and the first useful responses were to do with the latest Microsoft update causing problems.

This is why I am starting to HATE Microsoft. I promise that when I do get another computer, I am going to have someone help me install another operating system.

I won't go into too much detail, but I have tried uninstalling updates, reinstalling them and not reinstalling them. I did a system restore and everything else I could think of. I am just simply pissed and done with Microsoft. I can't wait to get a new operating system.

That's all still up in the air. I will let you know when (if) I get it sorted.

The Last Thing

I was recently in a battle with my mailman. Because I don't have enough crappy stuff going on in my life. 

The problem I was having is that I do most of my shopping online - from groceries to basic household items - and not every retailer uses UPS (or even the less desirable FedEx). Any time I was expecting something via USPS, there was an issue. Last winter, our mailman was pretending that he couldn't "access" the building. Funny how he could access the building to put mail in the wall boxes but had problems delivering parcels that didn't fit in those boxes... Thankfully, the local Post Office is literally across the street from our building, we could pick up our items on the same day. Once we all started to complain every time we walked over to get our parcels, the problem seemed to be resolved. That was last year.

This year - starting a few months back - we all noticed that the same thing was happening. Because I tend to track my parcels and get updates via text message, I came up with a plan. One day when I had a package due, I went up front and parked myself in the lounge so I could accost the mailman. I watched him sort all the mail into the boxes and start to leave. I stopped him and showed him my text and asked if he didn't have that package with him. 

Oh... The look on his face when he had to hand me the package, knowing that when I checked my box there would be one of those non-delivery slips. Yeah. There have been no further problems. Unless that dude goes postal on us.

So anyway, that is what's been happening. Now that I have all that out of my system, I will get back to doing some product reviews and other informative blogging. By the way, I recently was chosen to be one of the Walmart Spark reviewers. I have already put in for the first item so I will definitely do that review here. Also, I did get another vape pen courtesy a Visa gift card someone sent me for Christmas. I will probably do a review on that device. In the meantime, I am glad to be at least somewhat back and online. If my computer doesn't die soon...

Peace

--Free

I fell in love with this when the kids would play the game. Just so soothing. 

Cranky Is As Cranky Does (UPDATE)

I first published this post on 7/5. Today 7/9, the first package of items arrived.

 Amazon told me to just keep the package. So now I have plenty of tissue. Pah-lenty.

You know, I should know better than to interact with people when I am deprived of calories. I'm not the most social person when I'm in a great mood, but I dang sure don't need to be set loose on the world when I'm cranky. Here's what happened today:

I had put in my regular order for some household items the other day. And which service did I use? Amazon. Prime. Fast shipping, baby.

For those who may not know, you can sign up for text alerts regarding your deliveries. And of course, I signed up way back when. Keeps me from missing parcels. If I'm not home, I can have a neighbor hold them for me. Usually, I am at home. So when the text pops up that my items have been delivered, I can go to the door and grab them.Easy peazy and a lazy shopper's boon.

Today, I got the text alert that my order of items was delivered but, when I check, there's nothing outside my door. Huh. I go back and check online to see what's up. Maybe the text was wrong. Nope. My order was showing as delivered and accepted. Accepted by somebody named Mike M___.

I have no idea who this Mike dude is. I'm bad with names so I can't tell right off if he's a neighbor in the building or somewhere else on the block. The building manager hands out a list every now and then, updating with the names of the tenants. I, of course, always lose that list. And by "lose" I mean I throw it out. I can't deal with clutter and I have enough from my writing projects.

So, who in the heck is this Mike? I have no idea but I do know who to ask. If he lives anywhere within a 3-block radius of this building, there's one neighbor who will know something about him. She keeps up with that kind of thing. I go ask and, sure enough, she knows for sure that there is a Mike in the building but she doesn't remember his last name. She doesn't remember exactly which second-floor apartment is his either but she does know there's a little statue of a duck outside the door. Listen, if I ever turn up missing, somebody contact this woman. She will have some kind of intel for sure.

Let me mention that at this point, I'm irritated. Normally, things like this don't faze me. I'm generally a very easy going gal. But not today. Today I am in a post-birthday funk. The voices in my head keep reminding me that I'm older and that the older I get, the harder it is to stay in shape. Those voices had the nerve to tell me that I should lose some weight. I mean... The. Freaking. Nerve. Right?

Yes, I have let the prednisone take over my willpower. And, yes, I need to be a little more disciplined. Also, since apparently prednisone is going to always be some part of my life, I need to stop using it as an excuse and just deal with the extra fat on my ass. But I really don't appreciate my personal Jiminy harping at me until I started covering all the mirrors in my home.

Yes, I covered the one full-length mirror that hangs on the back of my bedroom door. It was getting to be a pain to remember not to look whenever I passed in front of it.

Anyway. I've been severely restricting my caloric intake. This is just to jumpstart things. In a couple of weeks, I will test the waters of a couple hundred more calories but, for now, I am in a low-carb mode and not my usual sunshiney self. Listen, when I measured out the sweetened creamer for my coffee this morning, I actually licked the residue from the spoon. Yeah, that's where I am in my life...Anyway, this leads me back to the part of the story where I practically stomped into the elevator, then down the second-floor hall - hopefully burning some calories. I was on a mission to find a duck statuette. I was going to confront this Mike dude. because I wanted to know where he got off with stealing my delivery. Matter of fact, I was planning to inform him that his theft had caused me some serious emotional suffering. Also, who the heck would steal someone's order of toilet paper and bottled water? Tell me that.

When I spotted the duck, I didn't immediately knock on Mike's door. I kind of put my ear to it for a moment. I wanted to know if Mr. Mike was possibly talking to someone about his theft. Maybe he was even sharing my toilet paper and water, handing out rolls and bottles to his... partners in crime???

I knocked at the door and... nothing. I waited for at least a count of 100, then knocked harder. Finally, I hear someone telling me to "hang on, just a minute". And that's when I realized I might have been just a little bit out of control. I wished I had realized that about 5 minutes earlier because, boy, did I feel like an ass when that door opened.

Mike is an old guy - maybe in his early 80's? - and he's on a walker. Yeah. And he's got the kindest eyes and this really sweet smile. Right then, I could hear my mom turning over in her grave. Shame on me. Just shame.

Of course, Mike didn't have my package. And that made me feel bad enough but when he offered to help me look for it, I died a little inside... I felt like such a thug.

I thanked Mr. Mike and apologized for bothering him. And then I slunk all the way back to my apartment.

I was home for maybe three minutes before I got a real bright idea (you know, the one I should have had first) and called up Amazon. Because someone had accepted my delivery, right?

Guess what? Turns out that there had been some kind of snafu with the delivery service (I won't name names but I will share initials, U.P.S.) For some reason, my delivery never made it to my building. It got to town and then was sent back to the last station where - get this - it was accepted by some worker named Mike M___.

The Amazon rep couldn't even figure out the why of the situation and was as baffled as I was that the packaged had been marked "Delivered" instead of "Returned". Whatever. She was awesome. In addition to refunding the money back to my original payment source, she gave me a complimentary gift card to put towards my next purchase.

Sunshiney, sensible and well-fed me would have used that credit toward that re-purchase of goods. Cranky me ordered a freaking dutch oven...In my defense, I've been wanting one forever. I'm going to need something in which to cook all that carb-free and low-fat protein I'll be eating for a long while to come.

Listen, I know that I handled everything in my life wrong today. That's why I'm going to up my calorie limit a bit asap. Happy me is already misunderstood but cranky me... I'll get kicked right off the planet. Regardless, I don't want to be a meanie. All I was trying to do was shut up those voices in my head

First thing tomorrow, I'm starting my day with some protein. I might have to torture myself long enough to bake some bread or cookies to take up to Mr. Mike, but I know I need more food before I face anyone.

Peace
--Free

A little D'Angelo always calms me down.

I've Leveled Up

I once saw a cute meme that said we should start thinking of our ages as game levels. The higher up we level, the more badass we seem. I dig it.

Yesterday, I celebrated surviving another year of existence and I'm not ashamed to say that this birthday made me a little sad. I had made a wish a while back and was holding my breath, waiting for it to miraculously come true. It didn't. That's what I get for being a dreamer of impossible dreams and such a hopeless romantic. Other than that, I had a fabulous day, thank you very much. I ate too many cupcakes, laughed a lot, and spent time with people I love.

But another year is gone. Wow.

Mission accomplished

Actually, aging is not a big thing for me. I can age or I can not age. I choose life.

I think that it's not aging that bothers people. I think the problem is the importance we put on aging. And that we are trained to set our life clocks and dreams to specific ages.

Aging is not just physiological. It's always been my opinion that there are different ages we reach in our own time, regardless of our biological calendars. There's the Learning Age -  which lasts a lifetime unless you are determined for it not to. The Experience Age lasts several years until you've done most of what you ever will for the first time - first job, first really good friendship, first love (and maybe) first heartache, first mourning a loved one, first regret, and so on. There are people still in their 20's going through things I never will. Life's funny like that. I feel for kids who have had to experience the most painful stuff before they get to the good stuff.

I'm fortunate that I learned a lot of life lessons when I could best handle them. I'm especially lucky that I still enjoy learning and discovering. That will always be my favorite life "level".


The Romantic Age is the tough one for some of us. It can come early in life or late. It just might come around again and again. For some people, their romantic age is planned out and works out with the first person they love. For some, it comes as a surprise. At my age, that's what will have to happen and it would be so welcome and amazing.

I've had 2 chances at romance. Let's call them Ghosts of Romances Past. I mourn both of them because I didn't make them what they could have been. I'm okay with that - finally - because I think I have entered my Comfort Age. In this age of my life (and especially since my wish didn't come true) I'm not expecting much, I just enjoy what I have - or the memories of what I've had. Some people don't even have memories of good things.

Yes. This.

So where does my sadness come from? It comes from an echo of my past, not my "now" and it's not a deep or heavy sadness. It's a reminder that I could have been in this Comfort Age all along. This age is one of acceptance. I'm content - for the most part - and thankful. Nothing has to be forced anymore. I live my best, love my best, and hope for the best. That's all. It's like my spin on the Serenity Prayer.

By the way, despite my current calm, don't think I didn't have a rough moment or two. I spent most of last night bawling like a jilted bride. Then I realized that I probably need to start watching out for wrinkles! (Just kidding. You all know I had to throw a joke in somewhere.) But listen. I did cry for a while, just for a short while. What I came to realize is that I'm blessed to still be here in this life of mine. As raggedy and worn out as it is, it's mine and I cherish it.

And if my "wish" is still out there somewhere, I hope it finds me one day.

Peace
--Free


P.S.: The other day, I was looking over some old photographs of family and friends - and a lot of people I have no idea about...  I've had a lot of happiness in my life. Sometimes, I'm so busy missing what I don't have that I forget that. And because this is what I feel like inside, I'm choosing this song for the post:

"I wanna be free to know

The things I do are right

I wanna be free"

Can't See For Looking

Okay, folks, I'm going to "go religious" on you but, hang with me because there's something in here that even atheists might like.

How do you picture Jesus? I'm sure people of all faiths (or none) would be interested in knowing what he actually looked like. I have started reading other versions of the Bible in my personal studies. This weekend, I read passages from some of the Messianic Bible versions.

Years ago, my mother regularly watched a show called Zola Levitt Presents. Every now and then, I would sit and watch with her. That was the first time I ever thought seriously about the fact that Jesus was Jewish. As silly as it sounds, up until then (and I had to be at least 22 or 23) in my mind's eye, Jesus looked like this:

That's not Jesus.
That's Robert Powell

The actor Robert Powell isn't a savior but he played one in Jesus of Nazareth. Such a beautifully done movie with an amazing cast. Before that movie came along, I had imagined Jesus looking like the classic painting that was hung somewhere in the homes of most black families. You might remember the ensemble of paintings your grandma gave pride of wall space to - Jesus, MLK, and JFK.

 However, my mind's eye (and the movie and paintings and so many church fans) got it wrong.  Jesus was a Jewish man so he most likely did not have those brilliantly blue eyes and I'm pretty sure he didn't have the whole rock star look. Looking back on that movie now all I can think is that the late Michael Hutchence would've wished to be that fine. I'm not being flip. Just look at that photo again.

According to the Bible “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him, nothing in His appearance that we should desire Him.” (Isaiah 53:2 NIV) It's been opined that based on his racial makeup and manual labor occupation as a carpenter, he was probably of a darker complexion and had some sun damage to his skin. Along with the Bible identifying him as being not very handsome (whatever that means), he may have looked more like this:

Source: Popular Mechanics

That's more plausible, right?  The article at Poplar Mechanics makes a lot of good points. Our minds are so polluted with stereotypes about people that we want to think good people must be physically attractive. Just think of that so-called black doll/white doll syndrome - as true or untrue as that might be. Or the fact that attractiveness can play a huge role in our lives.

Listen, I am not pointing fingers at anyone else's ignorance here but my own. Not only did I have the wrong idea about Jesus's appearance, but I just about had heart failure when I heard the Lord's Prayer spoken in the languages Jesus used.

Uh, why doesn't he sound British!?!?!? I'm just kidding. Some filmmakers aren't kidding.

Now, it had at some point in my much younger life occurred to me that we Westerners had the wrong impressions of Jesus. And some people were just completely stupid on the subject. I can remember some kind of anti-semitic rally or demonstration taking place near wherever my family was living back in the mid-'70s. My mother and her friends stood in support of the Jewish people. What was so silly is that there were only about 6 Jewish people in that community. Maybe the racist idiots just wanted something to rally about. Who knows? But I remember my mother shaking her head in disgust at the people carrying crosses while they chanted about "dirty Jews". Much like the Klan and other so-called 'Christians' who hate just to hate or judge in hate, these people forgot, I guess, that their Savior was Jewish. (And, by the way, the saying is not "Judge not" with a period at the end. It is "Judge not lest you be judged."  People always forget that last part. So, you can judge others if you're free of sin. Anybody? Go ahead. I'll wait. I'll just be over here taking this plank out of my eye.)

My whole point is, I have never fully appreciated everything about the Lord I serve. Like most people (I'm assuming), I tend to think only in flavors I know of. Now that  I have it in the forefront of my mind that Jesus talked, walked, ate, prayed, and lived Jewish, I get it. I can see a little deeper into my study of what he said and did while on Earth.

Just like I did in seeing Jesus in my shallow and one-dimensional way, I do the same thing in other areas of my life. I have got to work on that. I need to start viewing people as they are and not how I want or imagine them to be. Same goes for life and situations in general.

One of the sayings I remember from my childhood in Texas was "Can't see for looking." It was your response when you saw something shocking and someone asked if you "saw that". I apply it to my life in other ways. Sometimes, when I make an immediate judgment about a person or situation based only on shallow information, I later realize I missed the bigger picture. Can't see for looking and sometimes, can't hear for listening.

I'm not the only one with this weakness. This is the reason that a lot of us have shallow and ever-changing standards of beauty. It's why we assume intelligence based on slick looks or words. It's why we so often don't see the full worth of people and life. We're too busy looking at the cover to read the book. Because that takes time, doesn't it?

At any rate, I'm really enjoying my Bible studies now more than ever. By the way, for those of you who may not own a Bible - or a lot of Bible study resources - you might want to check out eSword or My Sword  Both have a variety of Bible versions, concordances, commentaries, and other help. Both are free (with expanded options for purchase). I've been using eSword and I'm amazed at the number of tools available in both the app and pc versions.  Usually, when studying my Bible, I have to sit by my computer with 20 browser tabs open to all the different resources. A single app or program is more productive. Actually, the modules for the two 'sword' products are somewhat interchangeable and updates are being made all the time. Check out both no matter which operating system you use. I'm currently using eSword on both my Windows pc and Android phone. Here are the links:

• eSword for phone and computer
• MySword app and for computer

By the way, there are huge selections of language options in both programs. There's a slight learning curve but, hey, I managed to figure it all out so...

That's it for now. I hope that at least some of this information is useful to you guys out there. Even if you're not "religious", information is always good to have.

Peace

--Free

Sharing a few of the songs I've been listening to this evening

Amazing, amazing, amazing grace

I have loved this song for years

Oh, blessed Prince of peace

"Stop fighting a fight that's already been won."

Me and Somebody's Wine

(One of my play nieces told me that it would be cool if I put up a video for each post. Sounded cool. Go support an artist.)

Sing it, Melody. Making me want a cigarette and some bourbon...

So. We all should know by now that I'm not a champion drinker. I am actually the cheapest date on the planet. After a few mixed drinks, I am a fun gal. But if I go just one drink over... That's with mixed drinks - or shots of something I can handle the taste of, like Crown Apple. By the way, that stuff is like Kool-Aid for fools. It's tricky-good. Tasty but dangerous. I've discovered I have a 3 shot minimum on Crown.

Wine, though, turns me into a different kind of fun. Wine generally just makes me feel very mellow. After a moderate glass of sweet wine, I am great company. Not too chatty or hyper, but sober enough to be good company. That's if the wine is not too strong. One decent glass of anything stronger than church wine is better than any sleeping pill my docs know about. As a matter of fact, for a long time, I kept a bottle of wine around just to use as a nightly tonic. Then I worried that maybe I was getting a little too habitual about that.

Once some years back when I was staying with my best friend, her sister treated us to a holiday outing to spend an evening at a ranch turned winery. It was during the Christmas season. The plan was to take a tour of the winery, have some casual eats, then participate in a wine tasting before finishing the evening off with a hayride on horse-drawn wagons. I was excited about the hayride and super-excited to do my first wine tasting.

So.

What had happened was... (and please don't laugh too hard at me) is that I made a rookie mistake. I was swallowing more of the wine than I was spitting out. And, yes, I knew to spit because that was part of the little lesson we were given beforehand. The problem is, I liked some of the wine too much to spit it out. Listen, we tasted a lot of wine. Yes, we did.

I never did make it to the hayride but I made really good friends with some guy at our table who was as drunk as I was and who kept squinting at me while we talked. I think he was trying to figure out which one of me he was talking to. Every now and then, he'd throw back his head and make this crazy cackle-laugh sound. And I wasn't saying anything especially funny. My girlfriend was as drunk as I was but she tends to stay classy and get quiet when she drinks. She only spoke long enough to whisper to me that I was talking with a guy who was probably a retired serial killer. Her poor sister could only shake her head and tell us to try to eat more food while she went on the hayride.

The best thing about having gotten drunk that night was it made the ride home fun. We'd driven probably two and a half hours to get to the ranch in the first place and we'd gotten lost twice on the way there. We didn't realize until someone mentioned it to my friend's sister that we would be driving right through one of those sundown towns on our way back home. There we were, sometime after one in the morning, driving super carefully. My friend's sister was stone-cold sober but worried about her two drunk passengers. She kept giving us instructions on what to do if we got pulled over. Let her do the talking; maybe just pretend to be asleep; and, please try holding our breath because we were damn near making her drunk from the fumes coming off of us. Thankfully, we didn't get stopped but my best friend almost popped her bladder trying to hold her pee the whole way home. That was the one time wine didn't put me to sleep.

Still, I'm not as bad a wine drunk as I am a Mother's Day drunk. Like I said, the most I do with wine is just fall asleep or - only occasionally - think I can sing and want to prove it. There were times during my sister's and my clubbing days when everyone made me stick to wine only. Because they knew what I was like on mixed drinks. A predator wouldn't have to slip me anything stronger than an extra shot of liquor. During those wine nights, I fell asleep at inappropriate times. Once, I fell asleep in a booth at a club. My friends just made a pillow and blanket with their coats for me and partied on. Back in my twenties, I fell asleep in places like Denny's and IHop. It took me a long time to learn my fun-but-not-narcoleptic limit of wine. By then,  was pretty much over it. For the most part.

I'm not proud of my drinking past and I never drank as much as it might sound like. I guess because I never even flirted with drugs, I made up for it with my drinking, such as it was. The only experience I have with drugs is the time I got a contact high and laughed uncontrollably for half an hour straight and the time I ate some weed brownies. Made with Alaskan grown weed. No thank you. Have you ever been to Alaska? This is what an Alaskan grown cabbage looks like.

Yeah, so Anchorage was like stoner heaven. For years, we had friends visit us just because the city was ahead of the game with personal use legalities. And some of the best weed ever. Or so I've been told.

I do think that drinking can be as dangerous as drugs. I'm lucky that I was young and stupid and living in Alaska when it was still a relatively safe place. Very, very lucky. I only went out with family or people I knew really well. It was my sister who left me sleeping in the backseat of the car once. I had apparently passed out into a drunk snooze on the way home and she and my sister-in-law couldn't wake me. They had the nerve to say later that I had been snotty about them trying to wake me. So, they left me in the car, in front of my brother's house, in the middle of winter. I wasn't cold because they had covered me up but I was still a little freaked out when I woke up a few hours later. I got out of the car because I thought I was sober. I wasn't. I got back in the car and went back to sleep. Good times.

Those days are so far behind me now. Thank everything in the heavens.

I was talking to my best friend just recently and she asked if I had plans to do anything special for my upcoming birthday. Other than thanking God that I've made it this far? I told her that I plan to maybe get a mani-pedi and probably just spend a few hours with the family. That's enough excitement for me. I had been kicking around the idea of going out for a drink with my sister-in-law but decided to keep any celebrations on the thankful and adult side. Once alcohol gets involved, who knows, I might have to move to a new town or change my identity.

Peace
--Free

NOTE: I'm going to have to schedule this post for another day along with some other backup posts so... ignore the mention of dates.  

My Happy Place

It's been almost 2 years since I moved here. I know that because my rent goes up every year on the anniversary of my move-in date and I got the notice the other day. Whatever.

When I first moved here, I was still kind of missing Alaska. But only kind of. Some random thief had stolen my favorite boots and a shawl out of my car just before I left so... What I still miss most about Alaska are the mountains. No matter what crappy thing was going on in the world or in your life, you could always walk outside and look at those majestically beautiful mountains. What a way to remind you of power and beauty and forever-ness. I also missed the abundance of clean tap water and the absence of wild reptiles.

Moving here, I was looking for small-town peace and quiet. I was a little worried about the potential negatives of a small town - the gossip, clannish behavior, and lack of diversity, not to mention the lack of a Costco and Walmart. After just a few weeks here, I relaxed. The people are, for the most part, unbelievably civil. There's a sense of community here but without the clannish-ness. Most of all, there is a lot of peace and quiet. You can hear yourself think. Hell, in the winter, things get so cold and slow, you can hear your cells replicating. And the winters are the worst thing about this place - not long and dark like Alaska's but brutal and unpredictable.

Probably the biggest adjustment I had to make in my daily life was not being about to get to Walmart on a whim. The closest one is about 8 miles away. That doesn't seem like much but no matter where I was in Anchorage, I was never more than 2 or 3 miles from a Walmart. I do realize that's not a totally good thing and I'd like to be able to afford to refuse to shop at Walmart but... life.

It's not just having to practically commute to Walmart. The nearest Costco is in Minnesota. I don't mind that much because I can order from them online just like I can with Walmart, Khol's, Target, Old Navy, etcetera. I actually prefer shopping online because I don't like leaving the boundaries of my little hometown. Outside the boundaries, there's more crime and sketchy people.

I do realize that one of the reasons it's so peaceful here is that there are no big box stores around. To be honest, I was so damn happy to find out that we have a Dollar General that I forgot about Walmart for a while.

What's nice about not having big-box-corporate-megalopoly type businesses here is that we still have a lot of family- and locally-owned establishments. The main grocery chain is one owned by a Midwest family. The town coffee shop is locally-owned. Most of the downtown restaurants and boutique establishments are local. The butcher's shop that has ruined me for eating any other ground beef is awesome. By the way, I love the idea of being able to say I have a butcher.

I have complained about the winters here but they are a much-needed wind-down after the festive summers. Things haven't revved up here yet this year, but I can feel the town itself getting ready and doing warm-ups. From about June through October, the population probably triples. People come from all over the rest of the nation to move into the houses surrounding the lake. The roads start filling up with expensive cars and motorcycles. The locals start coming out of hibernation to mingle with (and maybe keep eyes on) the visitors.

My first summer here in this particular apartment started out beautifully. I live right off of our historic Main Street and I was excited by the car shows and street festivities. I'd sometimes take my folding chair out to sit on the sidewalk and observe. There was live music, carnivals, and street vendors. I loved the atmosphere and liked to open my windows and let all the fun noise and music wash through my home. I was in love with all the merriment. For about a month. Then that shit started tapdancing on my last good nerve.

My neighbors had warned me. They had just been waiting for my summer glow to wear thin.

However, this is a tourist type town and all of the local businesses really depend on the flood of funds generated during the summer. That summer income is why the small businesses can operate through the leaner winter months. That summer nuisance money is why we have nice, clean streets and a cute as can be downtown to enjoy year round.

When one of my brothers and his wife came to visit last summer, they fell in love with this place. They live in Arizona though and would never make it through one of the winters here. Plus, they only like the small-town flavor for short periods. They actually like the larger cities in Arizona and California (where the SIL is from) for the hustle, bustle, and attitude. I personally hate almost everything about both those places except for some of the weather and most of the food. Not to generalize but I found the people in larger cities to be slightly rude and disconnected. And, yes, I know that both attitudes are reflexive and possibly necessary when living in big cities. I get it. I can go three miles further in town from that Walmart I told you about and find the same attitudes. So I'm not picking on any particular place.


The other day, my sister-in-law and I walked down to the lake. We didn't stay long, we just wanted to see if the water was clear and if there were any pontoons out yet. The water was clear but there were no pontoons out. The SIL did spot some fish leaping. We watched people walking by with their kids and pets. Locals. In a couple of weeks, the lake houses will start filling up with tourists and other summer people and the park will be full. Sometime in June, the bandstand will be booked and I'll be able to open my windows and hear live music. Oh, and June is also when out downtown starts celebrating Thursdays on Main. There will be more live music and car shows and street vendors. Right around the middle of August, I'll be praying for winter.

No matter the season though, I love so much about this town. It feels like home to me.

Peace
--Free.