Tag: going blind

Out of the Silence

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New book reviews and learning to reflect. While I have “read” nearly four or five books in the past few months, the book that I am doing right now is “Unlearning Silence.” (author Elaine Lin Hering)

Today as I listened about silencing personhood spirits, I thought of the verse from Jesus about murdering and killing with words. So many times we “joy kill” or “steal dreams” and how has this happened in my own life, or have I done this to others.

I have a few silencing stories to share that probably would make the other person cringe if they really knew what had happened or how I felt in the situation. One recently was while discussing allergy experience and taking the right anecdotes. I tried to tell about my learning as was silenced as if my knowledge was inferior and incomprehensible. I felt “idiotic”or “dumbed down” by the way I was responded to. It was a real turn off. Yep, I decided not to share my “knowledge” anymore. Even though I knew that I was right and my ER visit was more recent than the other person I was talking to.

Another time in my life I asked a friend for a ride to one of my daughter’s daytime recital hours, only to be refused with “Oh, I don’t think I can do that.” I was so hurt by the rejection, I really never asked this person for anything ever again. And while she still attempts friendliness, my heart has been guarded ever since that rejection and careful not to set myself up for pain. What kind of true friendship is that?

Another time of being “shushed” that really stepped on my toes was when a conversation between two women had a moment where I felt I could relate. I tried to say something about my father in a related sitiuation only to be literally “shushed” by one of the women. It was so painful. And knowing this relationship was in the season of “coffee hours” spend together, while I was in so much pain and loneliness missing the exact “time” and relational season. There were so many moments in that season where I was silenced by the individual, I had a lot of letting go and soul searching to do while I waited for the person to come back to even being “interested” in my caring, sharing and prayers.

Today’s exercise is all about breaking the silence, coming out of the isolation, and finding connections. One time about a year or so ago, someone actually told me “thank you” for sharing in my blogs about being blind and going blind. So here’s my frustration from just this week. My apologies for this being so real and sharp. If just one person hears this, it was worth saying.

Someone is probably not going to like this story of silencing at all, and that’s okay, because it’s my story to tell. When my husband and I were dating we used to go out to eat with a group of friends to a local Mexican restaurant and have a late night meal. While for the most part these memories are very fun and memorable, there is one night when things took a very hard turn. One of the participants in the group gave him a birthday present this first August that was the perfect silencing gift. Perhaps getting a can of WD40 spray oil is normal. Later on I asked what was meant by it. He did in all honesty not seem to mind that this “mean” person essentially told everyone there she could not stand that at times I would “squeak.” I was not aware of my laughter snort or squeak and it took me awhile to get the whole meaning behind this silencing. Funny how it really did set up the relationship over the next many years to be one in which I was inevitably “shut down” and being myself was never welcome around this person. It really saddens me to see that this practice has come full circle and the very person who gave him the oil can has been silenced by a health crisis.

Sunday we went to church and were a little late in arriving for the fellowship hour. The ladies table was full and the next table over was relatively empty when I entered. My husband did not get me coffee or find me a seat. I walked very slowly toward the coffee bar and there was a toddler standing in the center of the walking aisle. Thank goodness I saw the toddler. His sibling was sitting in the chair back turned and saw my interaction with the little guy. “That’s our baby!” She stated. I responded with, “well, he doesn’t look much like a baby ‘cause he’s standing up already!” Yeah, she said and went back to her snack. The little guy was not going to move, so I patted him on the head and walked past. No failing eyesight at that moment. Win. Next, I picked up my coffee and greeted my relative. She is hard of hearing now, so it was just a shoulder squeeze and a smile. Then it was time to decide about sitting. I chose a seven year old boy eating his snack alone. My chat with him was engaging and fun. Time to head to class the moment to connect was over.

My eyesight traps me in a little hallway sometimes. Like there is invisible walls on either side of me and seeing an open doorway to another individual most often times is missed. Sometimes I wonder just how many times someone has tried to engage me with a smile, a word not heard (I am also completely deaf in my left ear) and someone thinks that I am just rude. Really, I simply did not see.

I went to the doctor on Friday for my earaches. My allergies have arrived at the point where it feels like someone stuck a marble behind each ear. Pretty painful. The nurse leading me to the room said “we’ll turn right into this room“ while she gestured with her hand to go left. I actually caught the gesture and and then she said “I mean the other right-LEFT.” I laughed, and said it’s okay, I actually saw that gesture with your hand this time.

My eyesight got ahold of me yesterday and I tried to shut the door over my little granddaughter’s toes. I had not seen her there in the doorway when I came in. Rough moment. Her cry demanded my response and my apology, “I’m, sorry, Oma did not see you here in the door. It’s probably not the best place to be when someone is coming in and out. Will you forgive me for hurting your toe?” It was met with an “okay” and a sniffle. Bother for teaching these little one’s the hard way about my eyesight. I hate that I have to hurt them for them to understand.

The end of the book is not here yet. I guess I am a little slow if I only read for a half hour at a time. The book came from the State Library and while I intended to send it right back with the reader, and get set up on BARD on my phone, nothing has happened yet, so I’m still listening. Sometimes it is kind of like the radio, where it’s nice to have someone else pick the music. Maybe we will listen to something we’ve never heard before and actually enjoy it. Books are like that. I don’t always know what to pick. Like when we try to pick a movie on the watch app only to still be surfing the titles thirty minutes later. Recommendations are great!

While I am still attempting to listen and be correct in my speech this journal entry is now too long. So on I go into the next. Silence is deafening today as the wind is blowing a bit too much. The classic radio is going, the Bible is droning in the background, and I’m thinking about who I can call and suffer through a phone call with!

Momentary Afflictions

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2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “Therefore we do not loose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Thirty five years ago I woke up from anesthesia following an appendectomy and hear this little song in my mind as my conscienceless returned to me: “The birds upon the tree tops sing their songs, they lift their little voices all life long, so why can’t I? Why can’t you, Praise Him Too!” It has taken me nearly that long to understand that purpose statement in my life.

When my ears are nearly blowing up from the sinus pressure of a very long allergy season, how do I find my voice to Praise God? When the wind is blowing and the low whine is driving me insane just as the wind nearly did some thirty years earlier during a blizzard, how do I Praise God now? How can I praise God when I am having a bad day physically, because my eyes don’t tell me where I am anymore? There are days I find it hard to find a song of praise.

These present afflictions can go on and on some days zapping our energy, our hope, our focus, our love, our kindness and even our faith. We live in a world of full of erosion and destruction. Every day becomes a battle to grow an inner belief that does not fade.

So taking a look at the moments in my life today. What is true? My first focus of any day is what is the weather. I want to know how to dress. I am so glad that I have a home that keeps me out of the elements all night long and that I have a device to tell me how the weather is for the day. The truth is the air surrounding me is more my focus than the One who gives me the ability to breath that air. Lord, thank You for giving me so much!

What is noble? Looking for the grandeur amongst the clay pots of life is more to be commended that studying the dirt that fills the pot. For me it’s all about the beauty of the plant in the pot. Today, the holiday cactus put a new blooms on. Last year I have five months of continuous blooms on the plant. It amazes me to see the beauty of the trumpeting bloom declaring God’s infinite imagination!

What is just? While many of us wish life could always be fair, much of the time it simply is not. Like what justice is there in my husband’s having a muscular dystrophy that is so obscure and debilitating? What justice is there in giving me a body that could walk miles but lungs that won’t allow it? Physcially speaking living in a fallen world means justice is not to had within our life here. God’s justice is not often known here on earth. It’s eternal justice that we seek, and even that is only done by the everlasting kindness of a merciful God through Jesus.

What is pure? There are days, I am reminded that little Kona has a little white spot on his chest. I think of that spot as his purity mark. Dog’s love with pure abandon. They have no preconceived plans for the day. They have no concept of anything other than what we offer them. God put His mark of love in Kona’s little heart and it shines right through to make a spot on his chest reminding me that God loves us with pure abandon also. Jesus left his home in heaven and came to show us what pure love looks like. It is so bright it sends all the darkness away!

What things are lovely? Praise God for so many lovely thoughts to turn me our of my troubling mindset. The wind can really do a number on me mentally. But only God can take this momentary affliction and help me find things to Praise Him about. It is lovely to have a classic radio station to drown out the wind. It is lovely to have husband that loves me enough to call and see how I’m handling the day. It is lovely to have a puppy lean on my legs and tell me I am not alone.

What good report have I to share with you? I finished the pink / gray scarf with the nordic Freyja heart pattern. I did it thinking about breast cancer awareness. I have two aunts and now a cousin who has survived the dreaded cancer. That is a good report!

Kona testing the rug that is finally finished. He is starting to do the comfy test on every item I crochet.

What virtuous and praise worthy thing can I meditate on today? So thankful for my daughter’s and the virtues that God has instilled in them. From one being a mother that constantly plants good seeds into her children, to the other being a boss that lifts up her employees to do their best, God has granted me two beautiful women to watch on a daily basis be praiseworthy and virtuous .

Phillipians 4 verse eight says, “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of a good report if there be any virtue or if there be anything praise worthy, think (meditate) on these things.” (ESV). I use to get stuck on the whatever attitude that people had for a time, something like the overuse of the word “like.” Thinking on the good report rather than all the negative bad news in the world is a focus challenge. While my ears feel like they are about to blow up and I am deciding on whether I need more medicine or the doctor, I must decide to think upon the good report. For example, today the tub of onions that I received from my dad’s onion patch got tipped over at some point last spring. We just left it that way, and sure enough the onions prefer growing on the ground than in the tub. I was able to harvest a few for my chicken noodle soup today.

Greenhouse update or good report: The aloe vera plant went crazy this past year loving the atmosphere in the dome. I now have seven plants to give away where there was just two before. I’ll keep two and get rid of the extra.

My crochet story good report: I finished the pink scarf and started another. Even though I lost a whole bag of yarn this last few months. I misplaced while preparing for the grandkids overnight stay when little newborn brother came along. I still have not found the lost bag of yarn. My husband was nice and let me buy more!

Ordinarily

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Remember that silly little song “The Cat Came Back?” Well, it wasn’t even five days after saying goodbye to Crush that the black cat that I brought home from Colome two summers ago came back to this place. Had he really been displaced by Crush and stayed on the outskirts of the property until now? We think it might be Zucchini as sister Pepper died on the road. Enough of the cat saga, it’s time to fill in other details.

Another ordinarily is that I would put a picture of Zucchini her to show you how he sits on top of the kids swingset, but my blog says my data upload option os shut off because my media storage is full. I’m a blind person and have no idea how to fix this problem. So there is the mental picture you figure it out.

Ordinarily, I think of some little story of the kids to tell. One day each week with the grandkids fills the love tank and gives me all kinds of little happenings to tell the greats. There’s only one great left to tell- my mother. And since she is at an assisted living facility it is awful hard to get ahold of her. So then, I would save the stories for the greats at the church coffee hour. But now even those have dwindled in number, as we say goodbye to another one today.

A new month brings with it the hopes for the future. And some more goodbyes also. My hubby’s birth month ends with his mother’s birthday. Not having her will be bittersweet as we take hold of new memories and hold a new little one in our arms. August is full of possibilities. But today we remember one of his mom’s dear friends who just passed away.

When we say that the “landscape” is changing we think about the recent storms and the loss of tree tops and structures no longer here. But in our lives the look of persons no longer sitting in their places at church is also part of the landscape change. We have lost so many giants in the faith at our church this past year. And the deaths of so many parents in the 80 something years makes the stream seem bare. Oh Lord, that my roots stay deep into the living water during this vast changing season of our lives.

Ordinary days have taken on an emptiness that is hard to explain. Si many days I want to make that call to my dad or my mom-in-law and it’s just not possible. I added some siblings ti ny favorite call list but there are times no one fits the “tell”list fit what I am thinking about.

The song “ I must tell Jesus” goes thru my mind frequently.

And then like some nightmare, I come across a secular song that has all the wrong thought processes. “Immortality” by the BeeGee’s and a guest singer, talks about following the path that lies ahead as we walk without the loved one who has gone from our lives. They try to say that “We don’t say goodbye”… but we all know better. While the memories live on, and the things that the person said and did still echo in our heads, our hearts hurt and the goodbye is still there to sting and bite like an unknown bee in the flowers that we grasp unto each time that we call them to mind.

Echoes in the mountains only last for a short while. Echos of loved ones gone before the fullness of time are the hardest to handle. Echoes of genetic trace within the family carry on into the future beyond our comprehension.

Ordinarily, I would sit in my chair and crochet while the stories of others carry me through the stitches. Perhaps today it is time to take up another pass time. Telling the stories of the people that made me has always been one of my “dreams.” While there are books, movies, experiences, and occupations, it is the people that surround us that make us who we are.

The song begins “So this is who I am / And this is all I know / I must choose to live / For all that I can give…”. There are two kinds of people in this world, givers and takers. And it always fascinates me that the takers are so confused about true giving. Being a giver is taught. And oh the job of the mother to teach patience in the taking, and to teach love in the giving.

Another ordinarily is my Reading apps. I first used the Google reader. Then they removed the “free” option. We tried Envision, and now they dropped that reader and changed it to “Ally.” I think the next one I use will be be ChatGPT or something like that. So at the moment my reader is all garblety gook and very frustrating. The software changed so frequently, it does not even know who she is when she looks in the mirror. Ordinarily I’d say something kind, but right now I’m a little frustrated iwth software updates.

And one final note about roadwork, changes that lead to dead ends…. My daughter’s new house is causing me quite the meantal battles. The flooring is all the same. And the walls are all the same colors. So finding my way through the house often leads me right into a brick wall. Well, okay maybe it’s just the fact that the hall ends with the wall on angle and the door protrudes out from that. It is a light at the end of the tunnel nightmare, because the end of the hall is dark. I have found the door, the wall, the china cabinet, the wrong door, the chair, the corner of the doorway and many other objects except what I was looking for. Ordinarily using my cane would be a better way of finding my hoped for path, but I am stubborn about using my cane in the house where it could make children trip. So I stuggle on.

Five Little Kittens

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Five little guys entered my life last weekend. We received a box full of toes one evening from a friend. Our population of mouse hunters on the farm has dwindled to one. When I found a dead critter in my watering can, I was a bit upset. So it was time to begin again with some new feline busy bodies.

Five little furry kittens all licking mittens were cuddling in a box, One jumped up to catch a string, and the others followed to see this thing, and there were no more kittens in the box!

Naming the little guys might be easier said than done. First of all I can’t use any magicians nor cats from famous books, because my husband can’t even say “Bagheera“ correctly and that is the black panther from “Jungle Book” in case you did not know either. Famous people with the name Black doesn’t work as I don’t like people names for pets. Calling my cat “Clint” just seems weird (Clint Black). The most famous Black scientist that I could think of was George Washington Carver, Percy Julian and that doesn’t match either. On we go, we’ll just be generic and call the black cat, Blackly!

Next most obvious is Stripes. Yep, The pinstriped tiger grey kitty does not look like a tiger to me. Just Stripes! That would do, let’s just be obvious..Then there is Spots. The only one that when looking down on them in the food dish, has spots. Yep, let’s be exact. However, the next two are a little less conspicuous. Boots has legs that look like lace-ups or buckles on them. Socks is black on the back, but all white paws and legs like a sport sock that goes up to the knee.

Boots, Socks, Stripes, Spots, and Blackly

Finding the escape artist is now part of my daily routine until we get the kittens to the vet and are ready to let them be outside. Magic tricks are not my favorite television watching past time. I never see the “trick” and miss the whole point of the act. So considering myself a magic act is kind of funny. But a cat can never resist a string. So that’s the devise that I use to trick them into coming back into the room. I know that they are ready for some more roaming space.

The other morning I had to have reminder that the dog was sleeping next door in the old house to escape the thunderstorm. My hubby felt sorry from him and gave him a rug to sleep on. We really need a garage or back porch inclosed for the old boy. Charlie is nine or ten now and getting more and more scaredy-cat than ever. I think he would benefit from some pheromone treatment for sure.

And of other boxes. We were not able to help my daughter and her family move into their new house as much as we thought we would. Yes we did hlep with the kids and some packing up before hand. But my hubby ended up with a herniated disc from trying to lift the cast iron old wood cook stove. It was in the Old, old house two doors east of us. They ended up using a rope and a tractor and a skid-loader to get it out of the way. Who knew that the thing was so heavy?

Little kids are just about as curious as kittens. They just can’t resist getting into what is not theirs. Or being destructive with toys that they do not understand (age inappropriateness). We found so many little mix-ups with the toy containers. I am still trying to et things put away again. Some things will get hidden for the next visit. Just not dealing with toys out of age range and the busy mess. Uff dah.

One afternoon was spent cleaning the weeds out of the hydrant flower bed. The bug bites were so numerous, I spend the next 24 hours in sick mode. They really do make me feel like I have the flu. The body aches and the fatigue are more than I can handle. But then I just thought about my poor husband’s herniated disc, and let that sympathetic nausea tell me that I was okay. Today is better but now the humidity and the lawn mowing “fresh cut grass” smell is bothering my asthma. So truly if it’s not one thing it’s another.

I lost two beautiful plants in the greenhouse over the last week. Two of them were ivy types. And they had been looking so beautiful. What a bummer. Sometimes I think I should give up on plants. I do the easy ones for the most part and even then, they end up dead just out of the blue.

Allergy Awareness: Eminent impending doom

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Experiencing anaphylactic shock from an allergy is awful. The feeling of near, impending disaster. The danger signals firing alarm bells in my head as the world seems to go dark in waves. Then the fainting, heavy feeling that going down is the next thing about to happen. And suddenly, I make a phone call that is not 911 but to my husband. “I feel awful.” And I need a calm life coach to get me to the next step.

Only a person who lives with an epinephrine pen knows what I am going through. Experiencing the awful feeling that something is so wrong inside oneself is hard. The fog in thinking is like draining my thoughts away. I am not even sure what is next or what is around me. Knowing where my EPI pen is or my inhaler, or my Benadryl. I did find then all but just wasn’t sure about doing my own shot of adrenalin booster.

My hand after the steroid and two types of antihistamine were sent into the blood stream.. I had to wait four hours to be assured the medicine was enough for my glands in the throat to reduce swelling. Also a safety protocol of heart monitoring after epinephrine. .

I was able to yell in my brain, “YOU JUST HAVE TO DO THIS!” And I did make myself sit up to swing the pen into my right thigh. It worked enough to start the coughing and keep my throat open until the ER. It was a close call. Riding in the car, I kept feeling the fainting nearby and thought just how terrible it would be to leave my family right now.

I went through all of my motions prior to and the only thing is perhaps the brand name Fig Newtons were tainted with barley. Or the dog’s treat that I gave him had barley and I did not get my fingers washed good enough. The next day I found the three bags of dog treats that I set aside have barley, or peanut butter in them. I will have to give those away to somebody’s dog that I don’t visit.

The ER doctor put me on a pretty high dose of steroid for a couple of days until the ingested item is out of my gut completely. I can’t believe how my glands are still pretty swollen today. There is some vertigo from my ears being pressed on by the glands there. So much stress on the body and so much stress from other sources.

The following Monday happened to be my annual physical day and yes, my family physician did give me a slap on the wrist! Next time the allergy response happens, I may not have as much time. It took one hour and fifteen minutes from the moment of ingestion until the IV steroid. Next time (if there is and when there is) my reaction must be swift, first the shot, them the Benadryl and then 911. Someone else will have notify my emergency person.

Taking on the burdens of other people can lead to stress overload. There’s a weight which so easily entangles us in the affairs of other people. Casting our cares at the feet of the Savior soon becomes the only way that we can cope with the heavy loads. I am turned back to the week with my father and how we talked about fishing or hunting, or Jesus. I would ask what kind of story, And as his body became more tired, he would simply say ‘You choose” with the biggest grin and squeeze my hand. I knew that he knew I would choose a “Jesus” story. So today the Jesus words I pick for my life and those who grow weary with the burdens of decision making that we all have comes from the Gospel according to Matthew.

Matthew 11:28 “Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. “.

Of course, I am delayed on posting this journal entry. That is often the case as life happens faster than we can recall it at times. My dad passed away just the day after my ER visit. My brother also spending time in the urgent care to get a piece of metal out of a fingernail. Everyone else seemed to escape challenges until after the funeral. Then my other brother had kitchen plumbing disaster. My baby sister put up with a crying infant for the whole 17 hour car ride home. Life is not all frosting and birthday cakes.

The last few days have been solemn, sacred, special memories as we said “goodbye” to another earthly mortal. Grasping the life lessons that an individual has to teach us is so key. Having a positive, humorous attitude in the face of life’s sufferings, my dad used each opportunity that he had to help people find laughter in the midst of the situation. Even when it “hurts” to laugh, it is still the best medicine.

Note this close call: eating luncheon at the memorial service is a bit scary for me. I have to trust there is no hidden ingredient in the items set before me. Then while holding my granddaughter eating her potato chip, suddenly my daughter across the table says “stop, stop, mom!” The little dolls potato chipped fingers decided to eat the macaroni salad and my fork was holding a noodle that she had just swiped across before picking up her pepperoni pice. Close call, as I am also so allergic to potato it would have messed up everyone’s day if I got hauled off to the ER. Someone rescued the little body off my lap and took the plate away with her. I received another plate of salads and we made it through the day unscathed.

Lamentations

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Living with limits comes with its laments and difficulties. Turning from our laments to praise is an accomplishment that is only achieved with the help of the God who gives in the midst of deep struggle.

Thinking about book of laments; lamentation when my brother called things for my dad too a new rugged path. I had not gotten as far as the praise chapters. And for the moment I felt stuck in the bad news. How do we dig out of an emotional hole?

That very evening we went out to spend some time with my dad while he could still visit and respond to our words of love. While it was a very difficult week, we know there is more to come. Yet the blessings and healing graces could not have been more evident. If only others knew just how deep the wounds were truly cleansed as we chose to love on our dad in these last days.

We set up the brick base to put the wishing well in a more permanent location.

Today sitting my dad, we had the patience talk. He began crying as he said it is so hard to be patient. I told him, “There is only one giver of patience. God gives us everything that ever we have. Our lives, our children, our hope, our wisdom, our patience. We have to trust God for everything. We wait on Him.” “Yes.” He replied. It was hard to see him cry as he realized he was not getting any better. Going home was no longer his thought process. The only “going” we would do the next few days would be in our imagination.

Then just the next day, my dad faced reality and spoke factually to my dear spouse. My husband received the harsh reality from my dad’s own mouth that things are not getting better. “I’m in tough shape. I guess I’ll have to go to the nursing home.” His son-in-law responded with yes, most likely (even though in his blind state, he was already there).

Another week has since passed. It was so hard to leave my dad and know that the wake windows will slowly be closing in on any opportunities to conversation. Any thang that was left unsaid is still going to have to sit out in NeverLand.

Having lots of conversations with siblings and we who will be left behind as day after day goes by. Letting go and letting parents age is not any easier than letting children grow up. Except that this parent season in life seems so final. The cyle of life is difficult in some seasons.

And so I began composing the story or poem “I’m walking you home” as we spend time with my father in these last days.

Lamentations 3:22=23 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassion does not fail. They are new every morning; Great is You faithfulness”

Morning Glory

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Crochet is so addictive. I found a new pattern last month and asked my hubby to buy it for me. We put it in my E-book on my phone so that I can easily access it. The pattern done by Crazy Cat Lady is a mosaic crochet variable with several different options. The first one I tried of course turned out much bigger than I expected.

Snow finally arrived with a howling wind winter storm and the days that I did the most work on the project, the radio, the tv and an audio book kept me sane. I still have trouble with whistling wind storms and anything over 20 mph can just about drive me insane.

The project is finished and does look okay. There are things that I would have changed had I known how big it would be. Nevertheless it is pretty.

Books keep me going. I don’t know how anyone can function without books. So many people spend their time watching tv, or playing video games I wonder at the lack of productivity. Yes, I can see evenings spend in relaxation, I do that some also. But most of the time my fingers simply can’t sit still. I am such a fidget artist.

Morning glory is a weed around these parts. No one in their right mind would plant the ground cover here. It simply takes over everything in the garden. But our worst problem is bind weed. It has no flower, and wraps itself around upright growth like a boa constricted. It’s power to choke out the pretty plants is so frustrating. Why I think of morning glory with this pattern is beyond me. Perhaps it will all make sense someday.

“Oh that will be glory for me” is a hymn line chorus that has also been taking over my awake moments in the night hours. There is a verse about having a “night song” that I often think of when I am struggling to stay asleep. Though I think I finally found the right supplement to help me.

Magnesium comes in several types. Citrate and glycerinate are the two ai am now familiar with. Calcium with magnesium citrate is best for bone health. I have been taking this for several years to aid my post menopause body and avoid osteoporosis which runs in the family. Also, it helps keeps my mood on an even tide! Recently I was introduced to magnesium glycerinate to help as a sleep aid. What a world of difference it is to have full night sleep in my life again.

Next up on the crochet list is more yarn. I have used up my stash and taken out two unhappy old projects in the midst. I need to find some crochet three smaller than standard 4 ply that will not split and make me frustrated while doing mosaic patterns. I do enjoy most baby yarn so perhaps that is the preferred option over sport weight. though I think I will try a smaller hook size on the next project first.

Learning how to do the year or a signature in the project is my next challenge. And doing the year came first. I could have moved it up a row or two to be more symmetrical in the pattern but next time will be better right? My hubby always teases that one might need a “get better soon” card when attempting some projects. Not a card because there is illness involved, but a hope that one will do a better job next time!

I managed to get the year into this project. It turned out okay.

Quick updates are not easily completed with so many interruptions. And how can I be the source of so many of my own lack of focus. Since the snow storm, the the snowmen collection has been packed up. I actually got so dizzy trying to pack up them. So I asked my hubby to finish. My eyesight simply would not let me move from the surface of the display to wrapping them up. This was just not enjoyable at all.

Back to the books that have kept me sane. I had a couple of silly romances. But now I am going through the book by Dr. Jeffrey Rediger called “Cured.” This book will probably lead me to other books. Or not. I got the book finished and found it somewhat lacking. It basically convinced me that everyone has is individual and special and can only follow their own conscience and listen to their own body. Everyone has their own journey. Each dash is special.

Meanwhile I am back to my pattern study and doing a couple of back pack bags. I also finished this project. And then found another pattern to do. The month of March ended with a commission project for a high school senior. That should be fun once I ever get startedQ

One of Those Days

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SUNDAY: Well, today is one of “those” days. I slept less than three hours last night. So now I am overtired and cranky. Decision making is very minimal. Lack of sleep really affects my eyesight. So this morning when we were preparing to leave the house for church, I found the bedroom door closed with my nose. Really?

Really?

We are trying to leave the little dog home more often with freedom of space and choice. And while he has grown up finally, it has only been about one month since the last full bladder accident. So rather than letting him have the whole house, shut the doors right?

And then, I decided that I needed a scarf to stay warm. My outfit was not complete. So I headed back to the bed room for the matching item. When I found the door with my nose, my initial responsive word was “dang-it-Really!”

MONDAY: Reality going blind sucks. Just over a week ago my grand-doggie found my eyebrow with the top of his head. He is one of those bouncy dogs that does not greet on a sit. His excitement puts a spring in his bottom and jack-in-the-box will spring at the most inopportune times for a blind lady. Going down to greet my little 15 pound Shih Tzu found the forty pound head with mine.

Really!

There are some adaptive learning curves that simply don’t work in practice. Being a very active and boisterous little girl, I have grown into a statuesque old lady. I really don’t enjoy the bodies requirement to be still just to save my other parts. My eyes simply do not work right anymore.

How do I manage to keep up with the change of pace? I know that lack of physical activity is what is driving my inability to sleep at night. Who wants to teach a bland lady how to work out and get tired enough to sleep?

Maybe I should put on a helmet and take up boxing.? That seems like a dumb idea when there are so many things jump out of nowehere to clobber me already.

Maybe I should take up running on a treadmill mill just to keep moving but who is gonna read all the options on the screen? Where is the speaking options on that equipment?

Maybe I could do palettes or something? but it requires being able to see and know what the directions are for each move and no one ever explains things well enough. Besides my mirrow image response is zilch because I do not see the actions to copy.

Okay. Really…

TUESDAY: Yesterday we both had bad visits at the dentist. Very rough hygienists that should probably have flunked his schooling. Anyways, decisin made to find a new dental clinic. And good news I slept for the first night with no sleep aid meds at all.

Today is a rough day. Another week will go by with no glasses on this nose because it hurts too much. My sinuses are already angry over the knock on the door. Scripture says, “Ask and it will be answered, Knock and it will be opened, Seek and you will find.” Well, I just think I’ve learned one should use the appropriate tools when asking, knocking or seeking. And sometimes we simply aren’t asking the right questions.

WEDNESDAY: Another night slept with no sleep aids. Unfortunately, my poor sister is taking up my lot in life. She is going through much stress in life in preparation to early retirement. Yep, going blind sucks. The rest of the family is doing well, I think. Haven’t talked to very many of them lately. It’s still a good day to take the back seat for a full rest as tomorrow is grandkid sitting day.

One of the Freyja patterns by Tinna T. Iceland mosaic crochet artist. I have learned alot about the craft from her.Thanks. Tinna!

THURSDAY: No mishaps. Just a quick story about hte kiddos. I sat with the littlest one while the others were at home school co-op day. It seems this social experience is a highlight for three of the momentary mommas. My sister, sister-in-law and my daughter all living this lifestyle of parenting 24-7. We do enjoy hearing about the learning curves in their lives. In other bits and pieces, I took the older two grandees with my short Kona walk in the afternoon. The oldest had to bring her binoculars to “look at nature.” The second child was wearing boots, shorts, a winter jacket and gloves. Hilarious picture!

Epilogue: Friday is here. I made it through the week with no more mishaps. Yet…. Doing more book study lists. Also finished the scarf above that I don’t like. I made a mistake on the first rom of the pattern beginning with the upside down heart. Oh, well. It was intended as a practice run. Today is supposed to be a greenhouse working day. I have not had coffee for three days, and this morning all it seems to do is make me sneeze. I did this to try sleeping well. It may have worked but I am still not sure. I have been doing some breathing exercises as I try to fall asleep and that has helped. Kona really needs his groom session. And what other random facts could I tell you? Still working on “The Complete Sherlock Holmes” stores. I thought of it after I learned Great-great-Grandma Chris and her name was Anna “AndersDitter” Holmes. Those Scandinavians surnames are odd. Our family history lessons are fun as we hunt for obituaries and places of residence. The “Bygones” of the past still have stories to tell!

Second Friday: Creature Comforts

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The second Friday of the year finds my eyesight rather clouded. I know that I went to bed in a distressed state last night. I know that I did not sleep very well. I know that I spend all my energies up yesterday with the grandkids. I know that it’s been rather cold outside and two days in a row I felt so cold for hours that my bones hurt. It does not help knowing. It feels like there is sinus slime over my vision and the veil of film that cannot be seen restricts my vision.

Today is the second Friday of the year. I am finally trying to get back to my regular journaling. With the new year resolving to remember by writing is always part of my thoughts. How can I do better this year?

This second Friday of the year is like a new second chance. Yet doing better at say dishes, or laundry, or house cleaning, or even meal prep is still not high priority. Disdain for the daily dull drum is part of my makeup. A quote from I book that I recently read a second time comes to mind. Isabal Kuhn missionary to China had a very wise grandmother. She wrote in one of Isabel’s autograph books, “A noble life is not a blaze of sudden glory won, but just in the adding up of days in which good works are done.”

This quote struck me as singularly fitting to the beginning of this year 2025 in which one or two evil seeded characters left us with a January 1st that many will not soon forget. Some in fact found in hard to continue on with celebrations of beginnings anew. The daily dull drum seems rather appealing to me rather than such tragic excitement.

I started and finished a baby blanket that needs to get in the mail. The little darling has already gained a half pound to her birth weight. I lamented the family not getting to even meet her until she is nearly crawling. Perhaps, I could get out of my comfort zone and go visiting. that sounds ludacrous.

When you get the wrong package, and the neighbor gets your package: Do you call the delivery company, or the neighbor? I texted the neighbor. And we had it all settled in less than two hours. I probably would have been on the phone that long with the delivery company. Sometimes thins are best settled on our own terms.

The days home alone can be quite uneventful, and then again… The new year has had it’s share of visiting strangers. Today the rural water serviceman came to take a look at our intake water pit. Yes there is a slow drippy leak. No it does not show up on the meter. Yes the T-offs have some corrosion after twenty three years. yes the sediment filter was a little clogged. No it was not really affecting the water pressure. Any other questions? Oh the plant system building is concrete and not really a geodesic structure. Okay now that I am thoroughly froze once again, can Charlie please have another cookie..

Kona in his rug bed. Crochet circle with sweater sleeve edging, stuffed with fiber fill for a perfect puppy pillow!

Today was just another day in which I once agin realized I love Charlie more than I ever really liked Honey. Poor girl. We just were not really suited for each other. All that training…. Such a long time investment. Charlie has had virtually no blind guide training, yet his loyalty to me won by cookies alone, gets him to my aid in record time. And he just seems to understand, when I say slow down, watch for the step, where is the repairman, or whatever. Loyalty is preferred to friendliness. Charlie can be a little rude as a guard dog, but he does his job well.

The latest C2C installment with the backwards bobble stitch border. Takes longer to do the border than the blanket. Pretty wintery baby colors!

Creature comforts are what make a home hospitable. So I took one of the rugs from my mother’s dispersals and made one of those dog beds. We also bought a couple more for the vehicles and going places. A dog needs a place to call his own. And after teaching “place” for all this time it works well. Finally took two hours to teach him “please” the other day. Maybe that will work for the outside need. Maybe.

Green things make me feel at home. the Holiday cactus on it’s pedestal perch has not stopped blooming since my hubby’s dad passed away. I have never seen a cactus bloom for such a long time frame. We have been blessed with blooms for two and half months now. The nectar picture is a pleasant surprise. The citronella took root and I have two happy plants. One to share, and one for myself. The Kalanchoe has little blooms buds. But no sign of what color the flowers will be yet. The seedlings are up in the greenhouse and it’s time to start another tray os something. Miniature zinnias first I suppose. Maybe marigolds! Oh, and I should probably send some seed to the little darling the blanket is for, because that is her name!

Holiday cactus on pedestal-air flow means more blooms. Citronella in greenhouse rooted in! And Kalanchoe on the right will have blooms some day! What color will they be?

The verse for the week is Isaiah 46:9-10 “Remember the former things of old: for I Am God, and there is no other: I Am God and there is none like me. Declaring the end from he beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand and I will accomplish all My purpose.’” And more than ever, I need to reminded who God is, who the Sovereign of the Universe is, and Who is working right in my own little circle of influences to make each and everyone of those that i know and pray for His purpose.