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.  

The Great Alcan Adventure: The Slow Goodbye

Okay. So I checked and saw that I left off last time telling you all about the snowfall that hit on the day before we were set to drive out of Anchorage.

I have to pause to tell you a little side story about me and that damned Subaru.

Not only were we leaving my brother and the SIL, but we were also leaving their newborn - my then newest niece. She had been born small and had issues with her esophagus. Something about it needing more time to fully develop. My mom, sister and I hated that we were going to miss her first months of life. Then - just before we were due to leave - we had a little family scare. We thought it was a big emergency but it turned out to be a little one.

On my last Friday at work, there had been a going-away celebration for me. I really loved the people I worked with and (as you will see later) they kind of loved me too. Because of the party, I got home about an hour later than usual. This was great because I'd missed the normal traffic and I was a lot more relaxed once I got home. That's such a good thing because my nerves got a great workout about an hour later.

Since most of our belongings had already been shipped off to Arizona, we were living like campers. The kids thought it was great and we all were having a nice bonding experience. All we had were pallets to sleep on, food and beverages in coolers, and the house phone that was going to be turned off on Monday. What a blessing it was that we had left it on because it rang while we were getting the kids washed up after dinner.

I don't remember now which one of my brother's kids called but they were pretty frantic, telling me to get there. I could hear my SIL in the background just freaking the hell out. All I could make out from the call was that something was wrong with "the baby". I yelled for them to call 9-1-1 right now. (Tells you something about our family dynamic that the kids called us first instead of emergency services.)

And then this is where I relayed to my mom and sister that we had to get to my brother's house right now. I think all they probably got from me was that something was wrong with the baby.

Now, here comes a lesson in the way the human brain works.

My mom, sister, and I leave my teen niece with the twins and run for the car. I have ZERO ideas about how I was the one who ended up in the driver's seat - may be just because I had stupidly grabbed the keys???

Listen, I jumped behind the wheel, started the car and drove like a maniac all the way from the Northwest side of town where we lived to South Anchorage where my brother and his family lived. The three of us jumped out of the car and ran inside to see that... the baby was now fine. Apparently, she'd had some baby slobber slide back down her throat the wrong way. The doctors had warned her mom and dad that it could happen. They'd also told them not to panic when it did. There were ways to hold the baby that would clear the passage - WHILE SOMEONE CALLED 9-1-1. I remember that that had been the most important part of the instructions.

We were all so relieved that my niece was okay that we didn't give her mom much of a hard time about calling us instead of the ambulance. She thanked us for getting there so fast. And then it hit all of us at the same time. Everybody looked around at me in amazement.

My mother would always tell this story later and remind everyone that "my baby drove the hell out of that car."

I never did drive a stick shift as smoothly as I did that day. As a matter of fact, my sister ended up driving us back home that night. Isn't the human mind a strange thing?

Anyway, back to the main story.

The drive down the Alcan started off kind of rough. I was really worried about that snow. My sister and I had just gotten the hang of driving our new (old) stick shift car on dry ground. Okay, let me quit lying. My sister had gotten the hang of it. I was just managing not to hurt myself while driving that Subaru.

Everyone hated when it was my turn behind the wheel. It wasn't that my driving was that bad, but I had to have complete silence. When my sister was driving, conversations could be held, music could be played, the kids could sing silly little songs. I, on the other hand, could not handle distractions of any kind. One of the things I hated about that car was that I couldn't listen to the radio while I drove. I'm too easily, well distracted. If there is a conversation, I must be a part of it. If the kids sing, I find it too adorable not to join in. But music is the worst for me. I am the person that cannot help dancing a little even if I just hear a catchy product jingle. So, as soon as I took the wheel, the twins took a nap, my older niece pulled out a book, and my mom and sister shut down like they'd been unplugged.

Whatever.

Anyway, we got to Whitehorse and spent the night, thinking that we would stop every few days, long enough for mom to stretch out and get some rest in a bed. Well, we got about 60 miles (I'm just guessing) out of Whitehorse when the craziest thing happened. The entire chassis dropped from underneath the car.

Thankfully, my sister was driving when it happened and she had felt a slight shaking just in time to pull off to the side of the road before CLUNK. Yeah. I didn't even know that was a thing that could happen - to drop the whole bottom of the car. It happened.

My niece and I had to hike back towards a closed-for-the-season campground we'd seen. I don't know how far back. It might only have been maybe three miles, but in my memories right now, it seems like it could have been ten miles.

We hopped the fence of the campground, hoping that there might be payphones. It turned out that there were caretakers living on site. They only spoke German. I knew 2 German words: bitte and Guttentag. However, I was fluent in charades. They called for a tow truck and a second vehicle to carry our family. At least I was able to say "thank you" in their native tongue.

We spent a couple of days in the same Whitehorse motel we'd just checked out of while mechanics figured out that the car was (and I am serious here) repairable. They said that some bolts had vibrated loose but they had soldered them.

Of course, I had called the brothers and discussed the situation. We had options of buying a car in Canada or getting on a plane. One of the brothers was insisting that he should fly into Canada and drive us the rest of the way in a different car.

If my mother didn't believe in the power of prayer (and if we didn't trust her belief), we would have either been digging into our budget for another car or plane tickets. But we Conway chicks were tough and we didn't want the boys in the family to forget that. We decided to keep driving in the Subaru.

There is a reason you see a lot of rusted out Subarus on the roads in Alaska. Believe this or not but we had no more trouble with ours (and, as a matter of fact, we gave that car to Arizona friends who might still be driving it to this day.)

We really didn't have to worry anymore about the Subaru breaking down. We did, however, almost slide her off the edge of a cliff. I can't even remember where we were in Canada when that happened but I remember that it was pitch-black nighttime. I also know that it's a good thing my cool-headed sister was driving and not me. And that there was only the slightest bit of slick snow on that part of the road.

What had happened was, we had started up one of those steep inclines that curved. We were steering around the curve just as we were getting to where the incline was about to level out. There was no guardrail to the driver's side of the road where there was a deep drop - which I why I used the word "cliff". On the passenger side was a slight ditch. In that ditch is where we saw the headlights of an upside down car.

We were startled and my sister's first thought was that people might be hurt. She slowed down enough to glance over but then our car started to slide just a little.

If we had been in an automatic transmission, my sister would have instinctively known how to turn with the slide and get some traction. Being in this new (to us) stickshift, she panicked a little and we were just... sliding.

I have no idea how she got hold of herself long enough to think, but she did. Somehow, she got traction and the Subaru whined a little and then the wheels caught and we made it the rest of the way up the incline. All of this happened within the space of maybe four or five seconds. A very long four or five seconds.

Have you ever caught your breath and forgot to breathe again? I think that's what happened to all of us. I know it's what happened to me because I was about to faint before I remembered to take a breath. My mother was the only one who just sat there, arms crossed under her breasts, eyes closed and (I'm sure) praying. When we made it up that hill, she just said, "Oh, thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord."

We were still really worried that someone might have been seriously injured in that other car. I mean, how the hell had it flipped like that? I was trying to remember if the wheels had still been spinning.

Just maybe a mile up the road, we saw a little shack-like motel or inn that had a light on. We stopped there and my sister and I went in to see about calling for some kind of emergency service or something. Guess what? The people at the desk told us that they knew about the wreck. The driver and passenger were okay and had been driving drunk.

I was pissed. Why the hell hadn't the drunken fools turned off their headlights? Why had they been driving drunk on such a bad stretch of road? (Not that anyone should drive drunk on a good stretch of road, but...) And, by the way, who the hell did you call if you got hurt out here in the middle of nowhere?

When we reported back to my mom, I was still really mad. Then she pointed out something I had thought about. Wasn't it a blessing that we hadn't been in the wrong spot when that car was careening around on a dark mountain road?

Okay. Score one for Mom.

The rest of the trip through the Yukon and into British Columbia wasn't too bad. There was that one long stretch between Watson Lake and (I think) Ft. Nelson that will make you happy to have a gas can. A lot of smaller stations and businesses shut down for the winter season so fuel stops have to be timed really well.

And then there was the time I was driving one morning and made the entire commuting population of a town hate me.

I can't remember the exact place but I was driving out of one little community and toward another one that was maybe 10 miles ahead. And because it was really early and still dark, I wasn't driving so much as I was creeping like an octogenarian with bad eyesight. I think I was going maybe 35. In my defense I was tired and the road was all gravelly and rutted. In addition to all that, there were all these blinding headlights behind me. At least it was quiet because everyone else in the car was asleep. Until my mother woke up.

She looked back at the lights behind us and asked, "What's happening?"

Happening? I had no idea what she meant. My sister had woken up now and she looked back at the lights behind us. She commented that it looked like we were leading a funeral procession.

Apparently, I might have been slowing up the morning work commute for some folks. And this time there was no nice lady riding behind me with her flashers on...

As soon as the little gravel road turned into a two-lane street, I couldn't even get over into the slow lane before cars beat me to it and started zooming past.

You know that stereotype about Canadians being some of the nicest people ever (I see you, Keanu). Well. They weren't very nice to me that morning. As a matter of fact, I've driven my bougie ass through gang territory in Oakland that had friendlier people. Shit.

There's really not much else to tell you about that drive. We didn't run into very much snow, thank God. Unlike back in the early seventies, most of the Alcan was paved - or at least not hobbled together with gravel and mud. The Alcan is an incredibly beautiful experience. I highly recommend it as a bucket list item. Kids will see so much natural beauty that they won't mind being in a car for days and days. I, however, have done that drive more than enough times and the only way I would ever do it again is if I was madly in love and the object of my affection wanted to drive it. And I do mean he'd have to be ready to do the whole damn drive!

Fun fact: One of my Iowan neighbors actually helped build the Alcan. When he found out I had moved here from Alaska, he was pretty psyched. He actually wrote a book about the Alcan.

The best thing is, when you are driving the Alcan out of Alaska, it gives you a chance to do a slow goodbye. It's like getting that last sweet and lingering kiss from a lover. I want all my goodbyes to be as beautiful. To this day, I miss some things about Alaska. Most of the family memories I have were made in that place.

The people of Alaska are a big part of the state's beauty, More and more lately, that is fading. Back then though, people who moved there became infected with the friendliness and laid-back attitude that is being Alaskan. The company I worked for there had come up to expand on their hubs in Portland, San Francisco, and Memphis. After just months of the transplanted employees being around us Alaskans, they fit in perfectly. As a matter of fact, I didn't last long in Arizona that time around (another story for later maybe) and ended up going back to the same employer after less than a year and a half. The company was one that I was associated with for a lot more years. Some of the people who moved to Alaska to work with that company stayed after the business was sold and incorporated into what is now FedEx Trade Networks.

Just to make you understand why people love Alaska the way they do (if they do) is to show it to you. It's a gorgeous place. And it's one of those places where you don't have to be rich to enjoy the loveliness. Even with the unzoned, unmatched architecture of Anchorage, you can ignore the manmade ugliness just by looking up at the mountains. Just a ten-minute drive out of Anchorage in any direction and you are in the middle of postcard territory. Seriously. Let me share just a little bit of the view.

This is Beluga Point - just about a 5-minute drive heading out on the Seward Highway.

I'm a horrible photographer and even my bad shot can't kill the beauty in that pic. I took the next one a few years ago just holding the camera out of the car window.

My niece - who still lives in Anchorage (and is a much better photog) took these recently to post on her Instagram:

While out walking her dogs

Just on a drive somewhere in town

 And this beauty right here. I think my niece was on her way back from a fishing trip. Tell me this isn't postcard-worthy. (And don't steal the photo like I did.)

I think you get the idea. Basically, you can live in the poorest, most run-down and depressing part of town and still be just a glance up or a short drive away from magnificence.

That beauty was one of the reasons I was sad to be leaving Alaska. That and having to drive that damned car.

Peace
--Free

Old & Vaping

Don't you hate when you do something so stupid that you hope no one in the world was looking? Maybe that's just me but I did such a thing just today.

I rarely use my smaller vape devices unless I am vaping a really strong or really flavorful juice. Otherwise, the flavors are just too muted. This is one of the reasons that, now I've run out of Snickerdoodle juice, I carry that beautiful Finic mainly for its looks and the compact size.

Remember, I won this lovely

Recently, I quit resisting and tried some mint-flavored juice. It's called Twin Mint and it's basically the flavor of mint gum. It's not overwhelming or harsh like menthol cigarettes can be but it's got a nice vibrant dazzle to it.

You remember being young and drinking Peppermint Schnapps while clubbing just so your breath smelled good? Again, maybe that's just me. Had vaping been a thing back then, I would have definitely been on this Twin Mint.

The mint in this juice is just strong enough to feel cooling. I couldn't wait to try it out in the Finic. I am in love all over again with the device. The Twin Mint is such a delicious vape in the device. It's way better than the Snickerdoodle because that one could be a little too intense.

So.

At first - just to test it - I only put in enough of the juice to wet the coil. Once I fell in love, I was ready to fill the tank. Now, I have no idea why I did what I did here. I think that, sometimes, my brain only has a certain amount of smart in it and every now and then, I try working past that limit. I don't know, but what I did - instead of unscrewing the Finic cap to get to the fill holes - I just started squirting ejuice right down into the drip tip.

What an idiot I felt like. The good thing is, I immediately caught my goof and stopped before I did a lot of damage. Also, no one was around to see it happen.

I was able to laugh at myself (once I realized the device was okay and working) because I was reminded of something I saw on Reddit.

That is so hilarious. I liked it so much that I saved the Reddit post and now I'm glad I did. At least, I've never thrown out a device. Thank goodness. But there are days when I wonder why I'm still allowed to walk around unattended.

Peace
--Free


EDIT: I am so used to scheduling my posts, this one has been just sitting dormant for a while. So... not "today".

The Great Alcan Adventure of '91

Sometimes I do way too much complaining on this blog. Oh, poor me. Grieving me. Sad and single me. In reality, I've had a really good life. I always had a good family - even though there were times I've been embarrassed to claim some members. I've had a lot of great friends - who sometimes seemed more like family. Basically, I've been loved and protected. I think that's why any time life throws me a curveball (I don't even know what an actual curveball is, people) I get all up in my "oh woe is me" feelings.

Tonight (and keep in mind, please, of how I schedule posts all over the calendar!) some of my family was over and we got talking about some of the good times we've had. Not that we always recognized until much later how good those times were.

We talked about the very first time my sister and I moved our mom and the kids to Arizona. Yes, there was a time we lived in Arizona before the time I had my fantastic drunk Mother's Day adventure. That first time, we moved because we thought the weather there would be better for Mom. What a mistake. She was getting older and the long Alaska winters seemed to be wearing harder on her. Since I was the primary breadwinner, it was my say to make that move. Again, I say, what a mistake.

So we sold our house and packed up the kids and made the move. If only it had been as easy as that sounds.

By the way,  I just checked my old posts and cannot believe I never talked about that first drive down the Alcan  (Alaska-Canada)  Highway. That highway is the only way to drive out of Alaska to the Lower 48.

So, let me tell you a little of what I can remember about that drive back in October 1991 (and I had to text and ask my niece what year it was).

The route out of Alaskaland

The adventure started about a month before we left Alaska. The house sold with no problem. We had the closing and move-out dates and I had my last day of work scheduled. Okay. Things seemed great. Until my oldest brother checked out our car and declared it not safe for the drive to Arizona. That car had barely been safe for the drive to the corner but, hey. We had never had great cars. We always had a house (or trailer) though. It was tough having everything when we had kids not covered by an employer's insurance but that is another story for maybe never.

Anyway. We had to hurry and shop for a reliable, used car that would hold us - three adults and 3 kids. Our 2 older girls were teenagers but one of them had a history of terrible car sickness. On such a long drive, we all would end up wanting to put her out on the side of the road at some point so we decided to fly her to Seattle. She would stay with family until we picked her up for the rest of the drive to Arizona.  The twins were just about 6 years old and small enough to squeeze into even a small vehicle. My sister and I would swap out on the driving and sitting in the back passenger seat. Mom would ride shotgun. Oh boy.

My brother managed to find a car that fit our budget but it was old and he was still a little worried. Between him and my other 2 older brothers, it was decided that we'd let the car get us as far as it could then if need be, we'd just fly the rest of the way. Since flying would be expensive, I prayed to God that wouldn't happen. Then when I saw the car my brother had found, I just prayed to God for the money to fly from the get-go. Like I said, my brother hadn't had a lot of time to find a car we could afford but did he have to find one with a manual transmission?

Neither my sister or I had ever learned to drive a stick shift. However, my sister was brave and I still had a brain that worked perfectly. And my sister-in-law was the best person to teach us how to drive this Subaru because my not-patient-at-all oldest brother would have ended up causing too-sensitive me to have a nervous breakdown. By now, we had about 8 days before we'd be heading out on our grand adventure. Yeah.

On the Saturday before my last week at work, the SIL drove my sister and me to a deserted school parking lot. (Quick note that matters to this story: my SIL is part Inupiat Eskimo.) She patiently explained how to use the clutch and the gear shift and told us not to stress. "Just remember to ease off of the clutch. It helps if you just relax." She drove a few laps around the lot to show us how it was done and then turned the driver's seat over to my sister.

Now my sister, "Mike" was always a get-it-done kind of person. She didn't have to like a task but if something needed to be done, she just wanted to get it over with. I've never been as confident. I need coaxing. So I was glad that Mike was going first. I cowered in the back seat while the SIL coached from the front passenger seat. She told Mike to go a couple of laps around the lot, taking it as fast or slow as she felt comfortable.

Listen. Mike apparently decided to just go balls to the wall. She TOOK OFF and we shot forward so fast that my head slammed back and my braided extensions were flying around my face. We took a turn so fast that I slid across the back of the seat. Mike was changing gears and clutching so hard that the car was jerking and lurching like it was having seizures. And the whole time, my sister-in-law was holding her stomach and laughing like we were on the best thrill ride ever. She was laughing so hard she might not have been breathing. At one point - when Mike made a turn that almost had the car on two wheels - my SIL was either praying in Inupiat or speaking in tongues. Mostly though, she was laughing.

I was absolutely terrified. My sister had never driven a stick before and she was careening around the parking lot like we were being chased. My sister-in-law was NOT IN CHARGE because she couldn't stop laughing. I was close to having that nervous breakdown I thought my brother would've caused.

And then suddenly, Mike slammed on the brakes and the engine died. Nothing was wrong with the car (except maybe frightened), she was just done. She had proved she could drive a stick shift.

And that's how Mike was about tough things. We had to deal with a lot of tough things. We were 2 women in charge of a house with an elderly parent and 4 kids. My sister was the person you'd want around in an emergency because she would deliver the baby or fight off the intruders or negotiate the hostage situation without worrying about the danger. Only once the dust had settled, she might admit to having been scared out of her mind. She was super brave in the right situations. And then there is me.

By the time I got into the driver's seat, my sister-in-law was mostly chilled out and under control. Mostly. I was almost sick with nerves. The first time I tried to move the car forward, it died. And the second time. And the third time. It took forever before I got the hang of doing what my sister-in-law coached and just "eased up off the clutch".

Anyway, I finally did get the hang of it. Kind of.  I never got past stalling out the engine anytime I was on the slightest incline but I was determined not to let the car beat me so I even drove us home. The five-minute drive took about half an hour. I learned to hate traffic lights. They all saw me coming and went to red every time. Every single time. Having to stop wasn't the problem but I would stall out when it was time to move again.

My sister was comfortable enough to drive herself to the grocery store that weekend. I rode along and tried to watch how she worked the clutch. She only stalled out once. I needed to get over my anxiety because guess what? I had to get myself to work all the next week. Not to mention the 3000-mile drive that was coming up fast.

Understand that I have never liked driving anyway - except for that short period of time just after I first learned as a teenager. You know, back when I felt immortal. To this day, I don't like to drive and have always said that if I won a lottery, the only luxury I'd go after would be a full-time driver.

I was so freaked out thinking about driving the Subaru to work that I made myself ill. I didn't sleep well on Sunday night and on Monday I woke up with a nervous stomach. I thanked God in heaven that winter was at least several weeks away. I still wished I didn't have to drive that stick shift.

On Monday I put off leaving for work as long as I could. Then I couldn't wait anymore. And guess what? I made it. I humped and bumped that Subura right into my employer's parking lot. I even made it back home okay - although when I kept stalling out at one traffic light, other drivers started losing patience. The nice lady driving directly behind me is probably why I didn't get my butt kicked by someone else that day. Once I got the car going, she followed me home with her flashers on. We did about 20 mph all the way. Other cars were going around us and giving me dirty looks. I want you to remember that part. Just remember that part.

I did eventually get the hang of driving the Subaru without too much trouble. I had no choice because no matter how I worked the budget, it was the car we were stuck with.

Now, I can't remember exact dates we had planned to head out of Anchorage but I know that it was sometime in the last couple of weeks of September. If it hadn't been for our budget, I wouldn't have had to work so long into the fall season. Normally - or at least back then - the first snow wouldn't hit Anchorage until after Halloween. Like I said, I can't recall specific dates but let's just say that we had meant to hit the road on a Sunday. Well. It snowed on Saturday. And I mean it SNOWED.

Yeah.

I have to take a pause for now. If you are interested, come back over here in a day or so and you can read about what happened when we finally did set out towards the border. Good times.

Peace
-Free

PS - Apologies for the crappy errors. I think I've caught and fixed most of them

**REVIEW** Hempure CBD Vape Oil

As you all might have read about, I tried CBD vape oil recently. I am now a fan of vaping CBD oil. I might even try using the syrup or gummies or other such products. In the meantime, I have been given the chance to try this product from Hempure:

The oil I previously used was pure CBD with some VG and PG for the vape experience. The ingredients in this one are Phytocannabinoid-Rich CBD Dominant Hemp Oil with MCT and fractionated coconut oil added. Interesting. If you want to learn more about the terminology, keep reading for the upcoming links.

What I ended up doing was looking at the lab results for both product brands I tried. The fact that Hempure has the lab results online is a testament to good practices as a vendor. Of course, I had no idea what I was looking at so I had someone else glance over the page for me. They assured me that Hempure's vape oil is a good quality product.

By the way, I have to give Hempure credit for having a wealth of information on their site. You can literally take classes to educate yourself via their CBD Library. No jive. There is a 10-chapter textbook course and you can enroll in other courses.

Now back to the CBD vape oil.

I like most that Hempure has guidelines of dosages. That's a first for me. Every other site I've perused doesn't get into the details.

This vape oil comes in strengths from the Standard 100mg (the one I'm trying) up to Concentrated Therapeutic at 1000mg. There are 4 flavors: Natural, Cinnamon, Peppermint, and Citrus. Since I like to mix mine in with whatever flavor I'm already vaping, I got the Natural. When I first tried it, I mixed it with some Spearmint juice and it didn't affect the flavor at all. The other CBD vape oil I tried before has a very slight, well, hemp-like smell and flavor that comes through when used alone. I wanted to try Hempure's oil solo just to see what the taste was like so I put in fresh cotton and loaded up. No rope-y taste or smell though there was the faintest flavor of ... something - maybe the fractionated coconut or the MCT? Both of those are generally flavor-free. Whatever. The taste was bland and not unpleasant.

I learned my lesson about overdoing it with CBD and this time I stuck to taking just about 3 hits. This was enough to help me relax about an hour before bedtime. I slept well and am glad to say that I awoke without feeling hungover. That's the biggest benefit to this vape oil.

I suggest going over and checking out the various products. If you do nothing else, be sure to check out the library of information. I'm so impressed by that.

Now that I have tried vape oil, I plan to look into some of the orally ingestible product. While going through the information at Hempure, I learned of some other potential benefits to CBD and Hemp. I want to find out more about using some of the topical products.

I'm no doctor so I can only tell you how CBD works for me. In my personal case, CBD is a replacement for general pain relievers and sleeping pills. Hempure has a pretty terrific product in this vape oil and I will be for sure using their site resources.

Peace
--Free


Disclaimer: I received a complimentary bottle of the product(s) mentioned in order to render my fair and honest opinion. However, I am not an affiliate or in any other way compensated for visits to the product website.

Journals and the Randomness

I've been blogging here for so long that I sometimes forget why I started or why I keep going. My reasons change with my moods. Currently, I'm in the middle of one of my "years that ask" moods.

Being in this kind of mood prompted me to look back over some old posts (I deleted a few lots of them) and to open up some of my pen-and-paper journals. Oh man. What a walk back through the tangled madness that is my inner life.

Part of me is pleased that I blog and keep journals. Part of me is alarmed at things that I have written down. I might regret it later but I destroyed some of my entries. I'm talking shredded the pages and soaked them in bleach before vac-sealing them and putting in the very bottom of the dumpster. Shit.

Some of my worst (and most cruel) entries were about my ex. And here's the thing:  I can try blaming him all I want but that man never did anything I didn't allow. I'm ashamed at the pure hate I directed at him in my journals. Hate mingled with self-righteousness. One line would be pure hate and the next would be about my intentions to pray for him. WHAT???? I'm telling you, love is its own form of madness...

My journals document my procrastination and head-in-the-clouds attitude. I realize that I need someone or something to ground me. In the past, I was rooted in reality with a lot of responsibility. For a long time, I only ever spent energy swimming against the tide of taking care of kids and a home and an aging parent, and then a sibling. Then, suddenly, I was "in love". And just like all money ain't good money, all love ain't real love. That was one of my mother's sayings. So much truth. One of my now-destroyed journal entries questioned whether I was actually in love at that time or if I was just reacting to the last hoorah of my then soon-to-be-extinct ovulation cycles.  That belated realization made me feel torn between laughing and crying.

I spent a few hours reading back over those journals. I almost can't believe how many of them I've packed around with me all these years. I'm undecided about whether I will be destroying any more of them. It's a little scary to have a written record of my deepest thoughts around. Deep thoughts, dark thoughts, deliriously happy thoughts, and hopeful thoughts. Some thoughts that should only be shared with the person who keeps your name safe in their mouth.

An interesting thing I learned about myself is what I am okay with and not okay with baring to others. I'm a lot like the society I live in. It's sometimes easier to share what should be kept private than it is to share what matters most. I think that is true of this time we live in. People are often more comfortable discussing their sex life with strangers than they are about being raw and open with a loved one.

Note: I'm in free-flow mode and can't be sure if any of this is making sense. Just hang with me for a bit.

I think I've mentioned here before that this blog is my passive-aggressive way of expressing myself. You readers are out there but not entirely "real" to me.  What I mean by that is I don't have to look into your eyes and see your shock or disapproval or condemnation. I just get to share. If I met you on the street, you would not even be able to guess at everything going on in my heart.

Warning: Some rough segues ahead. Really rough.

I wonder if it's true that when you die your life flashes before your eyes? I just googled this and, apparently, there is some evidence reported. I don't know if I want that to be a thing. I barely survived reviewing my old journals.

When I was deleting parts of my journals, the main thing I considered was someone finding them after I'm dead. Yeah. I think about that kind of stuff a lot. Not the dying part, but the part where someone goes through all my personal effects. Not that I would be here to die again of mortification but if I could, I surely would.

And all my paper journals!

And it's not like I have a lot of nasty-girl stuff stashed in the backs of closets and dresser drawers. My fear is that someone will find one of the journal entries I wrote right after I got mad at them about something. One of my worst personal traits is that whatever I feel, I feel deeply.

This right here is not just a joke, on a wrong day, it's my life

my feelings are easily hurt

Thankfully, the balance of this trait is that I have learned to channel any negative feelings into writing/journaling until it's safe to deal with them any other way.

So keeping a journal is healthy to a point. As long as you don't keep all of the feelings on paper where they do no one else any good. Blogging is a whole other thing. Blogs go out into the world. Even if you delete posts, they can be retrieved. Yikes.

I guess I currently feel that journals and blogs are great for general sharing. However, if you love someone or are worried about them or just need to tell them something they really need to hear, you have to be braver. Do that in person - and in private. To paraphrase something my mother tried to teach me: love out loud, argue in whispers, and never, ever let the sun set on your anger. That's one of the things I pulled from my journals.

Let's all just be good to each other.

Peace
--Free

**EDIT** Dancing With Myself

(NOTE: I wrote this post piecemeal over a couple of days so please ignore any weirdness in the structure.)

I had to come back and add Rachel D'Arcy. I love her music but can never remember her name. I searched one of the songs I love and wanted to post it. Her voice. A bit like Amy Winehouse except more mature and sensual. She can really do her thing,

Remember when I mentioned posting some lists of songs I like? Well, this is a perfect time. When I was feeling like hell last week and in that deep blue funk, I tuned out of social media and plugged into my music.

There are so many songs I like, love, or am fascinated with that there's no way I can list even most of them. Since I live my life by my moods, I will list my music the same way. Here goes.

• Someday We'll All Be Free/A Song forYou (Donny Hathaway)
• Pata Pata/Mbube (Miriam Makeba)
• Black Violin (A Flat)
• Lovely Day (Bill Withers)
• Hysteria/Love Bites/Animal/Foolin (Def Leppard)
• Many Rivers to Cross (Jimmy Cliff)
• Higher Ground/I Wish/ Fingertips Pts1&2 (Stevie Wonder)
• Dancing in the Moonlight (Toploader)
• Brick House/Zoom (Commodores)
• Let's Work/Adore (Prince)
• Joe Satriani
• Didn't I (Darondo)
• Celia Cruz
• You & I/Hold Me (Emily King)
• Public Enemy
• Soul Flower remix (Pharcyde)
• Back It Up (Nellie Travis)
• The Emotions 
• James Taylor
• Graham Central Station
• I Just Love the Man (The Jones Girls)
• Underneath the Colors/ Tight/By My Side/Stairs (INXS)
• Free (Jaguar Wright ft. Freeway)
• Upside Down (Diana Ross)
• Life is Beautiful acoustic & live (Sixx A.M.)
• Slide (Slave)
• Creedence Clearwater Revival
• Natural High (Bloodstone)
• Shine (BarKays)
• Noreg (Sky Townsend)
• Turn Your Lights Down Low (Bob Marley)
• O.H.I.O. (Ohio Players)
• Wichita Lineman (Glen Campbell)
• Nobody But You (by both Dorothy Moore & Joss Stone)
• Wild Honey (Van Morrison w/Joss Stone)
• Crazy Love (Van Morrison)
• Still Life Blues (Elephant Micah)
• Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover (Sophie B. Hawkins)
• Black Girl (Lenny Kravitz)
• I Go to the Barn (Band of Horses)
• Aretha Franklin
• Ooh Child (The 5 Stairsteps)
• Do You Wanna Dance (Bette Midler)
• Simply Beautiful/L.O.V.E./Funny How Time Slips Away (Al Green)
• Does She Love That Man (Breathe)
• Everything is Everything (Lauryn Hill)
• Ordinary World/Come Undone (Duran Duran)
• Sweet Thing (Chaka Khan)
• What a Wonderful World (both by Louis Armstrong & Paolo Nutini)
• Amos Lee
• Diana Ross
• Tears Dry On Their Own/Love Is a Losing Game (Amy Winehouse)
• Crazy (Patsy Cline)
• Quiet (MILCK)
• Millie Jackson
• Knocking on Heaven's Door (both by Randy Crawford & GNR)
• John Mayer
• The Temptations
• Gladys Knight & The Pips
• In My Time/You Got What I Need/Wake Up (Teddy Pendergrass - and w/The Bluenotes)
• Holla If You Hear Me/Baby Don't Cry (2Pac)
• I'm Still Here (Mindy McCready)
• Fisherman's Blues (The Waterboys)
• Love Ballad (LTD)
• Sinnerman/Wild Is the Wind/Blackbird (Nina Simone)
• Once In A Lifetime (Talking Heads)
• Duke Ellington
• Quincy Jones
• Waterfalls/Swing My Thing Back Around/Am I the One (Beth Hart)
• I Can't Tell You Why (Eagles)
• Mmm/I Don't Want You Back (Laura Izibor)
• Stormy Monday (T-Bone Walker)
• Uncomfortable Truth/My Home (Nneka)
• Water (Jack Garratt)
• Baby Can I Hold You (Tracy Chapman)
• Elton John
• Jeff Buckley
• God Only Knows (Beach Boys)
• Alpha (Elvis)
• Keb Mo
• Hey You (Floetry)
• Arrested Development
• In the Mood (Glen Miller)
• Unseen Zones (Destiny Lab)
• No One Else On Earth (Wynona Judd)
• Love (Kendrick Lamar)
• James Brown
• Wild Horses/Shattered/Beast of Burden (Rolling Stones)
• Bonnie Raitt
• It's You that I Need (Enchantment)
• Love Me (The 1975)
• Rock the Mic (State Property)
• Everybody Needs Somebody (Solomon Burke)
• Sea of Tranquility (Kool & the Gang) & Send It On (D'Angelo)
• Brown Sugar (D'Angelo)
• The Sky Is Crying (Gary B. Coleman)
• Everybody Talks (Neon Trees)
• Stars (Simply Red)
• Hold Me/I Knew I Love You (Savage Garden)
• Yours acapella version (Shai)
• So Into You (Fabolous)
• True (Spandau Ballet)
• Smile (Ural Thomas and the Pain)
• Creep/Waterfalls (TLC)
• Madness (Muse)
• Sleepwalk (Santo and Johnny)
• Motown music (esp Marvin Gaye)
• Some jazz
• Some country
• Some folk

You know what? This list is SO incomplete. I just kept this post open for a couple days and would come over and add to the list as songs popped into my head. Every time I thought I was done, I would think of another song. I'm going to just stop now before I drive myself bonkers.

And this doesn't even represent some other genres. I have so many gospel and Christian favorites that I would never be able to start listing them. The top faves include songs by Big Daddy Weave, Third Day, the Georgia & Mississippi Mass Choirs, and James Cleveland. I will do another post soon to list some of the Christian/Gospel songs.

 I wouldn't be able to do a good job of listing classical music because I only know the songs I like by ear. I do love stuff from musicals (like that beautiful song from Les Miserables "Bring Him Home" - but only as sung by the one dude with the huge voice that shakes my insides up). Man, I cried so hard the first time I heard that song. Maybe I should actually go see a musical. That would be something. Unless I ended up in a puddle of tears by the end. I think I'm way too emotional for hearing such glorious music in public.

Real quick before I sign off, I have to share how much I love Vapewild. I've been vaping on 21 Jump Treat ever since VW added it back to the lineup. Along with my juice order, I requested some of the famous Vapewild art. Guess what? I not only got the art subject I requested, but I also LOVE it. So freaking cute. You can probably guess what I requested. It was a toss-up between an orchid and... my grown gal crush:.

Vapewild art

I was having a really crappy day when the order arrived. Then I saw the drawing and - boom - instant smile. I'm such a kid at heart. By the way, I think that the artist makes him look more John Wick-ish than sweet Keanu but I still love it. The piece sits right next to where I do all my blogging and writing,

Peace

--Free

Faith & Storms

Since I had my meltdown the other day, I am feeling better. I did a lot of praying after I finished that crazed, angry, and ranting post. My body started to feel better several hours after my infusion. I thought about deleting that post but decided to leave it up because of this one. Maybe it will help someone else to see the pair of them so they know that even severe "storms" pass over if we just give it time.

The first thought that came into my mind once I started feeling better was a self-rebuking "How dare you?" Seriously, who am I to feel sorry for myself? There are people in the world who would give everything to be at my lowest. I am a spoiled, first-world, insufferable jerk sometimes.

While at infusion, I see people who are dealing with diseases that make mine look like a bad cold. I'm not exaggerating. There was a 20-ish-looking guy in the ward who is fighting something that requires an infusion of meds so powerful that his chair is damn near sealed off from the rest of us - and there are chemo patients there. He was with a sweet-faced child-woman who looked younger than he did. She was wearing a wedding band and that just about broke my heart. Can you even imagine their struggle? Back in Anchorage, one of my doctors was treating children.  Those babies probably have never known a normal childhood but... here's me, drowning in tears for myself instead of praying for those people. Instead of being thankful.

Now that I am thinking more clearly, I don't know where I get the nerve to sit on my pity pot for even five minutes. Yes, I have to deal with a very inconvenient illness and I do wish I could turn back the clock to a time before all this, but I can't. This is called life. Life is not scripted to have something wonderful happen every 30 minutes. Life can be sad and disappointing and a struggle. And this is where my faith comes in.

For people who don't understand why I believe in a real and definite and specific God, I have to tell you that I don't understand your disbelief - or your ambivalence. And if you aren't in the mood to think about your position on the subject, just stop reading right now because I feel another rant coming on.

What does this mean?

I can understand how someone could want to not believe in God. I can understand how someone believes but has decided to rebel against God. What I cannot understand is how someone questions that there is God.

I've had people tell me that my faith is blind and ignorant and born out of fear and tradition. They are wrong. I would have to be willfully ignorant to believe that there is no God.

Some people like to say that they don't believe in what they can't experience with the 5 senses. I always want to remind them of the miracle that we are beings with those senses. Where did it come from that we exist as intricately made as we are?

And, by the way, I do experience God with my senses. If you can't understand how awesome I find the sight and sound of the natural world, then just stop and think about it for a moment. Just the fact that we have those senses - along with the ability to taste and touch and smell - that alone is pretty miraculous.

Dr. Hugh Ross - an astronomer and astrophysicist - explained in the simplest way what is so frightening to a lot of people (especially other scientists) to consider: "If there was a beginning, there is a Beginner."

Dr. Ross is obviously an intelligent man who has studied and theorized about things that I can't even pronounce. But all I need to do is open my eyes and look around to see "that the Heavens testify to the existence of a Creator". I can't even consider the beauty and complexity of life without considering God. There are resources for anyone wondering about the argument for God from different stances.

As advanced as man has become, he cannot create from nothing. He himself is a created being. All his greatness of mind comes from the DNA that he is. All that he discovers is from what already is. Man did not create himself or speak everything else into existence. God did.

When I think of where the first breath of man came from, I think of beginnings. When I think of time and dimensions - seen and unseen - I think of God. I cannot imagine the unfathomable intricacies of all that is woven together to create everything that is without considering God. How can you?

And, of course, there is suffering and grief and pain that we put up as arguments against there being a "just and good" God. What we don't think about is we're not just told: "There is God" period. We are actually given more information. An intelligent person will consider all the information. There's a guy named Lee Strobel who started out as an atheist but used his skills as an investigative journalist to consider the information. His goal was to disprove the existence of God. He came to believe. C.S. Lewis was reared as a Christian (that traditional thing), became an atheist, and came to believe - this time not blindly.

So, I don't need to have as much faith to believe in God as someone does to disbelieve. My faith is to help me understand and/or trust in God through my human condition. As I suffer depression and physical illness, I have to trust that God has not forsaken me.

Belief is easy; faith is hard but they go hand in hand.

Here is a quote (from an unlikely source for a Christian) that I thought about as I was writing this post:

“If you are depressed you are living in the past. 

If you are anxious you are living in the future. 

If you are at peace you are living in the present.” (Lao Tzu)

The Bible puts it this way:

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. (Matthew 6:34)

Faith is about living in the present because you know what the endgame is about.

Peace
--Free

Sarcoidosis and the Worth of Life

The past couple of weeks have been brutal. I am a couple weeks past due for my infusion because of a paperwork screwup somewhere and my body is in full rebellion. At this point in my life, I sometimes wonder about the value in prolonging the life of someone with a chronic illness. Seriously.

I once got to see a bill for my infusions and it scared the crap out of me. The numbers were just crazy. And I always feel bad about the weight my illness puts on the "system". What is life worth, really? And what is the balance? If you think about what you mean to the world - to society - and try to weigh it against what it costs to maintain your life...

In a week, I have two or three great days of health. The rest of the time I am depleted by one of my medicines. Every eight weeks, I get an infusion and feel amazing for about three weeks. "Amazing" as in even my weekly med doesn't bring me as far down as normal. Right now I'm feeling worn out from the one thing I managed to do today - walk over to the market for things to make tea and a snack. I had to rest for a couple of hours before I made the tea. All I've done with the rest of my day is lay down and try to fight the heavier-than-usual fatigue and make phone calls about the screwed up paperwork. So I am just questioning a lot of things.

I'm not a mother and I no longer am responsible for the nieces I helped raise. I'm no longer a wife or life partner. My contribution to society overall is fairly limited. So what is the value of life?

Today has just been really tough. I'm sitting on top of all my feelings wearing this crown of self-doubt and trying to talk to God about it all. Sometimes, though, the higher I sit on my mountain of feelings, the further I feel from Him.

What is the value of life? That's what I'm going to be thinking about when I lay back down. And I am going to have to lay back down because just sitting up long enough to post this has worn me out again.

I really hate this fucking sarcoidosis. I hate the way it makes me feel and I hate the way it makes me think - when I can think. I hate how it has come into my life and just bulldozed over everything that makes me sure of my value.

Peace
--Free

CBD Oil & Self-Medicating Shenanigans

When I tried Kratom, I didn't post about it as an actual review. That's because I didn't want to promote the use of it. Kratom has worked for me but the variables in dosage and effects are too, well, variable for me to even think about recommending its use. CBD oil, on the other hand, is, in my opinion, a much more stable type of product and I'm okay with doing a sorta-kinda review of the one I got from Hemp Bombs.

As you might know, I've been using Kratom to boost my energy and lift my brain fog. The brain fog is persistent but I do get great results as far as energy. The side effect I notice most is headaches. On the day I started trying the CBD oil, I'd already taken my morning dose of Kratom. My energy levels were up and I planned to get some stuff done around the apartment before I had to take my injection and be med-sick for a couple of days. Things did not go as planned.

The CBD oil I'm using is made for vaping. I add a little of it to whatever flavored eliquid I'm using and just vape as normal. There are some things I knew about CBD from friends who use it. It helps with stress and anxiety and chronic pain. It seems basically to work as a non-narcotic mind and body relaxant. What I didn't think about what just how relaxing the oil can be. I also didn't think about dosing.

So, I've slammed my Kratom-and-OJ-shot, made my it's-so-icky face and done my it's-so-icky shimmy. I've got floors to vacuum and mop, bed linens to swap out, blog posts to be written and scheduled. I'm Kratom-energized and ready but I'm letting myself get a little worked up and overwhelmed because my mind is also in creative mode and ideas are bouncing around out of control. This is when I remember that CBD oil is supposed to be calming. I decide to Frankenstein up my mood and balance the energy rush of the Kratom with the calming of the CBD. Perfect.

I put on my housecleaning music and added some of the CBD to the Vapewild Hannibal Nectar in my vape. (By the way, I chose the flavorless CBD oil so that it wouldn't interfere with my other vape juices.)

Now.

I don't remember exact times but let's just say that I took the Kratom at 8:30 and did about three good vape hits of CBD at about 9. At 9:10 I'm pulling out the vacuum and steam mop and am bopping around with Paolo Nutini because he and I have our new shoes on and everything is right. Everything was not only right but just about as perfect as could be. For a while.

It was about 9:15 when I started to think that I might need to sit down for a minute before I started cleaning.

I was feeling zero stress and all those formally bouncing and distracting idea I had have calmed themselves. The last thing I recall was thinking that my couch is a lot more comfortable than I describe it to friends. And if I thought about anything else, I will never know.

I 'm going to say that it was around 11:30 or a quarter till noon when I woke up from a full-on couch snooze.

People, let me tell you that I have never been so relaxed in my life. This wasn't a feeling of drunken or medicated relaxation. It was a more natural I-had-a-long-and-productive-day-then-laid-down-to-watch-some-TV-and-felt-like-drifting-off kind of relaxation. It was the type of relaxation usually only cats and newborn babies seem to master. I've seen depictions of heroin users and that nodding-off thing they do. I've never done drugs but I probably looked like I had that day.

There was no vacuuming or mopping - or even new shoes bopping - completed that day. It was all I could do to find my way to bed.

I "napped" (aka passed the hell out, open-mouthed and semi-comatose) for another half hour before I felt just too ridiculous laying in bed in the middle of the day when I wasn't sick. I made myself get up and I drank a lot of coffee and water so that I could at least get some lighter chores done. By 'lighter' I mean I managed to clean out some junk mail and sort some laundry in between non-narcotic nods. When I went to bed that night, I was out and sleep before nine. Just done and down for a 10-hour count.

The Complete truth

I'm not sure exactly how much CBD I put into the vape that first day. I know that my weekly injections are 0.8ml of medicine and I would say that I used maybe about half of that amount or even a little less of CBD oil.  And keep in mind that I mixed the oil into my regular vape juice and I only took a few hits off the vape.

Bottom line is that CBD oil can be powerful - though I understand that this depends on the quality/source. I now know that for daytime use I should put only a couple of drops of oil into whatever other ejuice I'm vaping. I won't be using the CBD as a nighttime sleep aid. For one thing, the Kratom is great for getting a good night's sleep - and I only need good rest, not long rest. I think I will save the CBD oil for when I do my injections. It will be nice to sleep clean through that nastiness.

Remember I told you I get headaches if I dose even a little too high with the Kratom? Well, even the tiny dose of CBD oil takes care of that. I guess it's true that people with chronic pain issues can benefit from the oil.

If you aren't into vaping, HempBombs (and other vendors) supply the oil in syrups, capsules, and edibles such as gummies. If you do vape and like flavored liquids, they have a decent variety. I'm no expert on CBD oil, but I think that I picked the right place for oil of good quality and pricing. Shipping was fast and I will be shopping with HempBombs again.

Peace
--Free

I did not receive product or any other compensation from the vendor mentioned in this post

Nightmares and Ramblings

Well, it's 1:34 in the morning here and I'm so awake right now that I might never sleep again. I just had the worst nightmare. I figured since I'm up, I might as well post about it. Lord knows I'm not going to be able to shut my eyes even to blink right now...

I have a thing about sleeping with the bedroom door open. It was so hot when I went to bed earlier that I left the door open to let the AC circulate better. Never again. I'd rather sleep in a hot sauna. I haven't had a bad dream in so long that this one left me shaking.

Don't you hate not being able to remember a dream? Not me. Not this time. I can remember every detail of this one. In the dream, my little nephew was visiting and we had fallen asleep watching television. I woke up (in the dream) at one point to catch the kid eating chips. I made him put them away and we went back to sleep. I woke up again to the sense of being in danger. I get up to check out that windows and doors are locked and that there isn't a crazed killer lurking anywhere. When I go into the living room, the dogs (because, in the dream, I have 2 dogs) are cowering on the couch and watching the sliding patio door. Of course, it's in my nightmare that I have cute dogs and a patio. I'd love to have a patio. I could have indoor and outdoor plants if I had a patio... Anyway, I go over to lock the patio door and notice that there are a couple of strange snarling dog-wolf-kangaroo-looking predators outside. They look like they are trying to sneak up to the door. Now I'm really creeped out. I'm trying to lock the door but can't. I open it a little, slam it, and try locking it again and can't. Leave it to me to finally have a patio only for it to have a busted lock. I decide that just having the door closed will have to be enough (maybe somewhere in the back of my brain I realize that the weird animals outside probably can't open a door) and I go check out the rest of the house. In the bathroom, I can tell that the shower has recently been running but there's no one in there. Also, my nephew is now not in the dream. This is a good thing because I feel like I'm about to run, piss myself, and lose my mind all at the same time and I couldn't add the task of protecting him on top of all that. I get the idea that turning on lights would solve all my problems so I start going around, flipping on switches. And, oh goody, in addition to having a raggedy ass patio door, apparently I have lights that no longer work. Of course. All that I can think to do now is pray but I can't make my voice work.

At this point, I wake up from the dream. And, trust me, I wake up praying.

Now, I know what triggered the nightmare. For one thing, I had gone to sleep right after listening to some horrendous details in a crime podcast. Also, I think my subconscious was freaked out by having that bedroom door open. The first thing I did was get up and shut it. Then I texted my niece - mother of my nephew - and make sure that he is okay. She was kind of pissed that I only asked about him and no one else in her home. Doesn't she understand that she was never in danger of my crazed dream?

So now I am up and drinking coffee and I can't stop thinking about this nightmare. I wish I was talented enough to draw the images I dreamed of. Or maybe not. I don't need reminders of crap that scares me.

I will not be going back to sleep anytime soon. When I finish this post, I'm going to find the most colorful, cheerful, and childlike movie I can. I wish I could watch the old Zoobilee Zoo videos we had when the kids were small. I could really use a good Ben Vereen strutting around as Mayor Ben in that crazy costume he wore.

Does anyone else remember Zoobilee Zoo? Our kids used to love it. I once took my 3-year-old twin niece and nephew to work to babysit them while I finished a three-hour assignment. Popped in the video and they never bothered me for more than snacks and potty breaks. When my sister found out that I let her babies watch that much television I thought she was going to disown me. Man, I miss Zoobilee Zoo. I just found out that the videos are on YouTube!

I just watched that video and realized that Zoobiliee Zoo might actually give me nightmares...

Well, later today I have to attend the high school graduation of another of my nephews. Maybe that's what triggered my nightmare? All the "babies" of the family are growing up. I have this nephew graduating and a niece who is getting married later this year. Maybe I'm just a little freaked out by all this growth and change going on within the extended family? Or it could just be that I went to sleep with that damned bedroom door open.

It's nice and cool now because it's started raining outside. I think I'm just going to open the window and sleep with the light on.

Peace
--Free

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.