another Sunday- more nonstop laughter

It all began with the March Madness.

Greathusbandbob and Nephewjohn were talking about the tournament results.  Auntofmine said "Why are all the players black?"

There was discussion on how not "all" of them were but many played a lot of street ball growing up in the hood (with the O.G. rooster which had already been discussed) Then we had to explain the difference to Auntofmine between street ball and basketball in a gym.  She had a hard time realizing that not everyone has a gym to play in.

All was revealed in the b-ball experiences.

Nephewjohn played street ball every day.

Greathusbandbob played a lot of street ball but was a bench warmer in high school.  Once he got in trouble with the coach because his cheerleader girlfriend gave him a banana and he ate it while sitting on the bench.

Auntofmine played as well and saw some action.

Barbara (who isn't any taller than 5') was on the team and warmed the bench. BUT she had a doll with long blonde hair (Aunt said "YOU HAD A BALD DOLL?" (and yet she refuses to consider a hearing screening) that she took to every game and wore a team uniform.  Come to find in her time the girls could only play on a half court-  3 people on one side for defense, 3 on the other side for defense.  Later in life while John was in her care and she was distracted by the phone she found John had turned hurling blonde hair into a page boy.

The only story I had was that I knew so little about basketball but felt obligated, being tall, and ended up being the manager and keeping book for my junior high team.

This conversation led to the one about the players getting scholarships and scholarships in general.  Greathusbandbob told the story of his business wheelings and  dealings between the computer science and math department to get a 2 year assistantship paying $1000 month. (instead of having to take three years and a $600 salary)

This led me to think about how I paid for graduate school and I realized that a good bit of it was free money.  For my masters in music ed I was recommended as a worthy student and any time the Dean had extra assistantship money I didn't have to pay for my credits.  This ws most of the time. I had forgotten about that.  Both Nephewjohn and Greathusbandbob seemed a little chuffed that I didn't have to do anything for it.  I then thought a little further ahead and remembered that for about 6 months I was getting free coursework and a salary from the Educational Leadership program.  I had completely forgotten.

Greathusbandbob said "I don't know what you think but I think getting anything for free and not having to do anything for it is stealing."  I replied "Then don't go looking for a birthday present this year."  Stopped him in his tracks.  The first time ever.

This led to a conversation about people stealing from their employers.  Nephewjohn said he had heard of a guy who worked in construction who built his house by stealing everything from his workplace.  I told Greathusbandbob to get ready for a house of drums.

Later in the conversation while looking over the calendar of events Greathusbandbob noticed that they were offering music meditation for the residents.  He asked if I thought I could lead something like that to which I replied- I'd have to steal some drums.

Finally- while it started with a conversation about surgery and sedation, Greathusbandbob talked about my response to being "under" for the fist time.  I said "I like drugs- I wish I could take them all the time"  He thought he was saying something astonishing but I said "I said that in the car on the way here."  Nephewjohn suggested that everyone needs medication to come to the Village- in fact it should be offered in candy dishes as you enter.

There was quite a lot of laughing once again- I know this snapshot doesn't do it justice.  Next time I will have to take notes.

Items known and unknown

Or how I know middle age is upon us.  I can tell you where everything came from in this photo.  From left to right- dogs bookending bunny came as gifts from cousin.  She buys presents that she would like to receive.  The bunny was a souvenir from the NYC trip with knitnightdrjustine. (Dylan's Candy Store- also where Kimmie Schmitt worked for 5 hot minutes)  The shell are from all from a trip to the Jersey shore when we were first married.  There is a pink flower near the bear's foot. That was a thank you present from Grace the great-niece at the end of a beach visit.  The bear on the right came  from a senior music appreciation student last year.

Then there are the unknowns.  I'm keeping these items together to let the secret entity who bring stuff into the house knows I'm on to it.

These are the items of unknown origin-

The dog had this bear in her mouth one day as a toy.  As can be seen, we do have stuffs laying about but I am relatively familiar with them.  I have never seen this bear before.  The lotion showed up on my vanity looking all "hell yes you bought this and meant to use it."  It's a lie  Greathusbandbob has no knowledge of this foreign object.  It remains a mystery.

On the needles- there are two teachers from the teacher dinner group who are getting married this year.  One of them is the recipient of my "bad santa" gift.  I'm certain the second bride to be is the one who organized my fabulous "get well we love you" gift.  Part of me just wanted to buy dinner for everyone on Thursday but I know that's a little over the top.  Instead I went looking for possible funny knitted wedding paraphenalia and found this.

Right now it's on a water bottle.  It's supposed to be a dishcloth that goes over dishwashing liquid.  I found some sparkly cheap worsted and also some sparkly wedding like ribbon.  I'm going to get a mini bottle of champagne to put it on.

And finally a crack me up Saturday moment.  The neighbor rooster has a speech impediment.  Instead of a full on cockadoodledoo it says cock-doooooooo. Greathusbandbob wondered if maybe it was sick.I suggested that maybe it came from the hood like when the grandson says "I'm fitting" as shorthand for "i'm fixing to" (translated to I'm getting ready to).  It's much easier listening to the rooster when you pretend he's O.G. (Old Gangsta)

Rooster demands prison reform not realizing

 he's free range most of the time and is lucky he hasn't been hit by a car yet.

What in blazes was I thinking.

Louie is the Devil.

I went to the gym tonight for the 6:30 "country heat" exercise dance class to find it had been removed from the schedule.

Instead, the 6:30 class was "body blast" with Louie.  I attended one other Louie class on the soccer field.  It was the one I left because it felt like elementary school physed when I felt like a complete loser.

I stayed for the whole 50 minutes today.  Here are some pictures of all the things I couldn't do.

Mountain climbers (there were people running while doing this. I did one for everyones 10)

Fire Hydrants- I could actually do a couple of these

Plank Jacks- jumping jacks while in a plank position.  The modification was not to do both legs at once but instead slowly one leg at a time.  I was happy to maintain a plank.

This is the dead bug.  I could do it (about half speed) Often times I was more like a caterpillar.

These are sumo squats- squat-jump up in the air-land and go to a squat.  Hilarious.  I could do a few squats at least

This is the Iron Cross.  While holding it we are asked to have swimming legs, legs out and swimming legs with legs out.  At one point I might have said "I'm drowning."

Side lunges- these were easy until he showed me that a longer step out was required.

While doing the "high knees" everyone was running- My pace was more lift.... pause.... lift etc. While everyone was doing sit ups, I was happy to get my head 4" off the floor.

This isn't all of them but you get the picture. Six different exercise about 20 seconds each done in sets- repeated three times.  There were times when I thought a) I'm going to puke. b) I'm going to cry and c) I'm going to sit this last set out.

I tried to get up to join in at one point and I could not lift my legs from the floor.  it was as if the magnetic pull of the earth had overpowered me.

I will go back. I wrote down the sequences that I remembered when I got home to practice in between.  I want to be able to do it.  I want to see myself get better at it.  And if I do, you'll hear about it.

and then

Sunday lunch date-

I think we've hit another phase with the aunt.  She remembered very little of Pat's antics or the funny parts of the week before- She insisted that everyone spoke so quickly she didn't hear it all.  Much of the table conversation involved repeating things someone had just said to help her understand.  She wasn't making all of the connections.  But then she was still hilarious at times.

Time #1- (I am assuming she wasn't serious) We were talking about her love for the ID channel instead of the Hallmark movie channel.  She said "I watch those murders with glee- I'm not sure who Glee is though."

Time #2- Greathusbandbob was discussing his brother's idea of using a known voice to operate Siri and the like.  She didn't understand and he said "Imagine if I recorded my voice..." and before he could finish she said "I don't think you would like the sound of your voice."

Post-op visit to the surgeon-

This visit was yesterday.  I had three things to share with the surgeon. One- the need for frequent urination has vanished. Two- the lower back pain that could find no relief is gone. And three- the whole concept of her and what she does is absolutely amazing.  I emphasized this point repeatedly.  I mean really, she went inside my body, took stuff out, I feel better and everything healed. How does that even work.  Then she shared this with me- A normal uterus weighs between 50-70 grams (the size of one and a half golfballs.  Mine however weighed 268 grams- the size of a hamster. Which definitely explained how my other symptoms were relieved.

After the appointment

I bought three dozen Dunkin Donuts and delivered them to aunt's auxiliary services- specifically the health aides that take her to and from appointments, the pharmacy that makes sure she gets what she needs with zero involvement from me and the tax people.  I love the tax people. I make them laugh- they make me laugh.  They are thoughtful and have to do taxes all day. It always looks so boring that I express my sorrow for their chosen professions every time I go there.  (Kmkat- it's tax season- maybe you need some donuts too?) And it makes them laugh more.  One time my favorite guy was returning papers to a counter that reminded me of a restaurant and I yelled "Order Up!"  They were the happiest to get the donuts also.

Wishing I was there

This came in the mail today from my first grade teacher friend and her kids.  I am officially ready to go back now though I don't feel terribly guilty being at home. Too sweet.

Monday

Greathusbandbob has lung surgery on Monday to remove a spot that has been growing.  We are mostly calm and positive.  The CT scan said negative for cancer but they are not foolproof tests. He has a PET scan tomorrow.  Great"stepson"Ian first offered to visit then last night via text said he wanted to be here.  While I said I wasn't opposed to him coming we might need him later.  Essentially I hemmed and hawed because we are trying to keep it low-keyish.  After reflecting on my reply I asked for a do-over and said that if he wanted to be here he should come.  I would love to have him here- he's awesome- and he will have some time on his hands because of a change in jobs.  I am secretly hoping he chooses to come. You heard it here first.

Finally

I went to Zumba Monday night and survived.  I am promising myself all zumba classes (3x week). Must go. There is a "country heat" session tonight that I'll go to because I feel like it- this will be the one I am allowed to miss but will go tonight to do something about my colicky sleeping schedule.

Along with that comes a recommitment to eating the right things and not the wrong one.  Once the chocolate bites are gone from the house it's back to no sugar and no meat.  Cheese is out for a while too. Damn I hate that.  This afternoon I cooked 1/2 cup of lentils in 2 cups of vegetable broth and garlic powder for 20 minutes and then added 1/2 cup of jasmine rice for another 20 minutes.  This will be a go to for a while- the texture is good, it makes the right amount and it only takes one pot.

When I first embarked on this eating habit I went for fancy, sometimes complicated, big grocery shop at the end of the week.  This time around I'm going to try to minimize.  Small grocery stops for just some simple things to keep me from being hungry. The surgery may have had some influence in this area as well.  My stomach seems to be better at knowing when to stop eating lately.

Crystal-clear, it's been 15 years. pt. 1

Today we drove to the town of Union for lunch at our favorite Italian restaurant (and seemingly the place we like to go when celebrating) Meloni's.

A little exploring led us to this donut shop and we are ready to make the tower tonight.  

We ended up taking a roundabout way home via the town of Morgan where we were married.  This innocuous coffee cup is from The Blue Moose Cafe which was the last stop we made as two single people on the planet and where we visited to mark the occasion today.

Character Study

Yesterday we returned to our weekly lunch date with aunt, Barbara (93) and her nephew John.  As I've mentioned before, there is usually at least one subject/topic that sort of dominates the conversation  inspiring laughter and clever talk.

Yesterday was no different- and yet it was.

Pat (a stranger to all of us but Barbara) rolled up in her electric powered scooter, saw the empty place setting and said "I'm going to sit here.  Do you mind if I sit here?"

We were startled by abruptness but always friendly and welcoming so I moved a chair (at her request/demand) and she pulled up to the table.

Greathusbandbob generally sees himself as responsible for ensuring everyone feels heard and welcomed.  He notices she is wearing green (it was St. Patrick's Day) and says- Pat, I see you're wearing green, are you Irish?  to which she replies With a name like Pat Mcsomethingorother I better be.  We chuckle-not sure if it's a joke or a rant.  Sometimes with the Irish it's hard to tell. We also learn that she has been at The Village since August, that she came unwillingly and that talking about it makes her really angry.

Greathusbandbob says I wonder who came up with leprechauns as another conversation starter. Pat immediately jumps in with a rather lengthy diatribe on how first wealthy Irishmen came to the U.S. then the second wave  (she refers to them as Irish who were considered seedier) came because of the potato famine.  They were considered only one notch above the n word and there were signs that said Irish and n* need not apply.  The Irish wanted to fit in better in the new country so they started having parties on St. Patrick's day so that they could invite everyone and show how they were good people to be around.  She concludes with So leprechauns were invented in America.

None of this was news to me- I read books.  I also have read old Irish folk tales that speak of leprechauns in Ireland.  While celebrating St. Patricks day to the degree we do may be similar to what has happened to Cinco de Mayo, I know for a fact that leprechauns are historically a part of Irish folklore and a part of their mythology.  I remain politely silent.

A little chuffed at her condescending nature, greathusbandbob asks Have you read Trinity- a fictional account of the history of the Irish by Leon Uris?  Funny part here is that I'm guessing greathusbandbob has probably read 20 books cover to cover in his life.  For him to drop the title of a book in conversation is hilarious to me- but also sets her back on her heels a little bit to realize she's not dealing with a table full of cavemen.

Greathusbandbob then talks about how his family was English until his grandfather married his grandmother (who was Irish) and ran a bar in FivePoints New York called Terry's Tavern.  To which she responds- Well you know all about the seedier side then.  Holy laugh my head off batman!

As conversation continues into other subjects she refers to and pronounces Belarus as Bellruss and Purim as Poohrim.  No one else at the table knew what she was talking about in the first one- I did, but again, I am not one to correct condescending strangers.  As for the second one, Aunt Sippy jumped on that shit- I believe secretly happy to be able to. (again, normally I don't even acknowledge slips like these but she was just such a know-it-all it was hard not to.)

We also discover that she was a medical doctor in Zanesville, OH for 21 years and she shares with us the name of the bones in the jaw and in the hand.  Not to be outdone, Aunt writes her last name (also the "villain" in Purim) in Hebrew.

Greathusbandbob- ever the conversationalist- tells the story of how, when he was a member of the Bridgeport, OH city council, the drunk mayor suggested that the stray cats in Bridgeport were causing herpes and aids.  He also shares his theory about the old and new testament of the bible- suggesting that God was a raging alcoholic in the old testament smiting and sacrificing people all over the place and how maybe he started going to AA in the new testament- with all of the love your neighbor, turn the other cheek.

My winning one-liner for the day came at that point when I said They say having kids changes you.

When she finished eating, Pat left as abruptly as she arrived saying that she had to go back to her room and pet her cats. Which made me think of course, she's not a dog person.  We imagine the letter she writes to family that reads You've got to get me out of here! They said my cat had herpes and aids AND THEN they said God was an alcoholic!  

Having encountered her before, Barbara told the story of how, during Bingo, she selected a specific Bingo card (she wanted one with a 9 on it) then had to step away from the table.  When she returned to the table Pat had taken her bingo card and her seat and told her you have 2 right in front of you, use those.  Karma dictated that Barbara won twice and she won none with Barbara's card.

It was as if we were hit with a cyclone bomb of entertainment that left as quickly as it came leaving laughter in its wake.  So entertaining was it that we decided that we should make the 6th chair at our table open for a guest diner each week.  In fact, the privilege could be one of the prizes at Bingo.

Meanwhile greathusbandbob is scouring the internet looking for leprechaun pins that say Made in America.

Made for TV movie number 2

The Hunted Lady-

This one was a doozy.


This police womanwas accused of murdering the internal affairs


officer she was working with.


These guys, 

 believed that she did it.

I thought this movie would in fact, be about how she proves her innocence and finds the congressman involved in the cover-up was conspiring with the mob.

Instead, she went to Reno to find a connection, collapsed from a prior gunshot wound to wake up and in the care of Robert Reed- a local Native American Indian doctor who was also taking care of a


young boy who had bone cancer..


She and the doctor chummy up- bad guys go after her, the boy dies, they fall in love, but in the end she flees and the last scene is her boarding a bus to search for the next connection that may or may not prove her innocence.

Now time for the favorite dialogue-

He could be the first president of the United States owned and operated by the mob.

The phone went dead and so did Bruceton.

The Navy's all over the world Kathy, even in Seattle.

You're the only one I can trust, babe.  Right on,  babe.

Nothing vital was hit.  I'll just have to be a little careful I don't pop my stitches, that's all.

Next on the itinerary is The Golden Gate Murders (although this may get interrupted by greathusbanbob joining me.) featuring David Janssen- about a priest accused of jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.

Made for TV round 1

Daughter of the Mind- Ray Milland- Ed Asner

Ray Milland sees and hears his daughter in what he believes is contact with the spirit world but (spoiler alert) instead ends up being a Russian cold war plot.

As is my tradition, I like to share the lines that catch my ears and make me laugh.

Poor man, he wants so badly for the dead not to be dead.

If Mary could come back then anyone could.  Even my mother who I never treated right.

Don't worry, Debbie always makes that sound when she's going into a trance.  She'll be o.k.

For Mary to come back it had to be with the approval and permission of God.

If you have any friends in the law department here, ask them to define treason, it's a pretty broad definition.

The next feature is The Hunted Lady 1977 with Donna Mills and Robert Reed.

In your neighborhood

This is not an accurate picture of our neighbors.  Usually both chicken and rooster can be found free-ranging- much to the dog's consternation.  She has yet to pick a fight with either.  The rooster is actually very beautiful- maybe you can see the green tint in the tail feathers and the fact that his fancy feet are feathered as well.

Another get well card in the mail.  For the record, in sharing these I am not boasting of greatness- more I am always surprised and delighted and want to share.  That being said, is there anything better than "boxed cards in old person handwriting?"  This is from our Sunday lunch friends with aunt.

Yesterday's excursion has left me in some discomfort.  Today will be a guilt free resting day.  I think I will be able to remain guilt free for all of next week as well.  There is a lot that I wouldn't be able to do if I were to return to work- including (and maybe most importantly) protecting kids from danger.

As for audio-visual stimulation- yesterday was an afternoon of Sherlock Holmes (the half hour shows from Sheldon Reynolds as well as the Basil Rathbone shows)  Today I am torn between a spotify playlist that includes a wide range of pop songs that dotted my life (each with it's own memory of time and place) or some made for TV movies on YouTube.  Sometimes the time travel associated with those playlists can suck the energy right out of you so I may save that for later.

E.T. Phone Home. We miss you.

So one of my teacher pals sent this picture along in our group text- I blurred the faces for confidentiality.  The clearer parts are the Mrs. Terry  stickers in action. I’m guessing my sub doesn’t feel as self-absorbed as I do when I pass them out.

And then this came in the mail with a gift card for dinner.

Today I realized that while I don’t miss teaching music so much (I think maybe I’ve disconnected from it as a result of my principals devaluation of it), I do miss the kids that need the hugs.  Not necessarily the ones who regularly give them but for those melt down kids who have had trauma and need to know they are loved and it will be o.k.  

I ventured out into the world. Two hours at the casino. It wore me out and there was some pain. I’m not thinking of going back early but the trip out let me know where I am healing-wise and the texts with the counselor and the above make me feel like I am a needed part of the community.

Heartbreaking Cable Realities.

So I said the pattern was complicated.  I'm thinking I got my construction cheat sheet right but completely f'd up the cable placement on the cheat sheet.

Here's what the side cables should look like-

Here's what they actually look like right now- I got a couple of them right.

At least I've managed the back ones- 

This brings back haunting memories of the Tangled Yoke Cardigan from 2007.

The above picture is from Interweave Magazine- I had beautiful almost lace weight yarn and the whole sweater knitted from the bottom up to the point of the cable rows.  It was knitted on a size 3 needles.  I repeat. A whole sweater on a size 3 needle.  Finally I frogged it in 2011 and have yet to complete the scarf I decided would be easier.

My initial inclination was to take pride in my humanity and it's ability to err. Particularly since I had just removed the sleeves and was ready to work on the body alone. But even as I type this, I know that I will be starting over. At least I can look forward to using those new stitch markers. le sigh.

Anniversary and Elephants

Next Tuesday we will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary.

Thanks to a 5yr old birthday party on Facebook I’ve decided we should have a donut tower instead of a cake.

I do love donuts.

The 14 year gift was ivory which led greathusbandbob to surprise me with this necklace.

The traditional 15 year gift is crystal. This came in the mail today.

An antique vintage crystal elephant.  It is so heavy and so beautiful.

Elephants have always been special to me because they make me feel connected to my grandma.  She collected them.  I loved them because she did.  I think we may have transitioned.  While the above remains true, I love them because I love them.  The following purchases were recently made illustrating said point. Stitch markers and my spring shoes.

These to replace my go to winter shoes (as long as it’s not raining) I am officially a Tom’s fan.

Here is one I saw in person, running free in the world.  Hey elephant, you’re awesome. Grandma would have loved you.

Because insomnia.

For the past two nights I’ve gone to bed around 10:00 pm and was still looking at the clock at 3:00 am.  Then I wake up at 11:00 the next morning.  This is not by choice or irresponsible behavior. It just is what it is.  Tonight I’m staying up a little longer because I can’t take 5 hours of tossing and turning. I couldn’t even fall asleep for a nap.  That’s how I know it’s insomnia.

No pain pills or ibuprofen today. Just a few pangs. I took a walk with the dog around the house this afternoon. I was surprisingly exhausted after just a short time.  I believe next week I will drive and build up my step count to make sure I can function when I return.

There is great progress on the sweater but it’s not ready to be photographed.  Instead here’s a shot of my cheat sheet.

And because there is little else to post, here are some pics of the never ending log cabin Afghan.  It’s Cascade 220.  It comes from other projects, yarn swaps and an occasional order.  It’s about 3.5’ x 4.5’. Each segment is 20 rows of garter stitch.  I recently stopped changing colors at every new segment. If a color runs out-I’ll start another without starting another section.  I toyed with the idea of making each segment 10 garter rows but I think this way will ensure minimum yarn wastage while maintaining proportions in the dimensions.

warning-this is boring-because there is time.

I was awake all night with discomfort.  The weighted blanket seemed to help. It feels like mislocated menstrual cramps.  It hurts to sneeze. I'm trying to stay awake for a better sleep tonight.

I've spent the morning browsing Ralvery for sweaters-

I think I've decided on this one- It's called Cables on Saturday by Christina Korber-Reith.  The yarn I have is some Louet Gems sport weight and is the exact same color as the serial killer sweater.  Not planned.  I must like the color.

My friend Cynthia sent this along this morning- she reads my mind when I can't.

In further distraction Star Trek is playing in the background and there's something to be said for watching and listening to it (as opposed to just listening).  Bones' reaction to argyle is dramatic.

Argyle is dramatic.

The dog, she follows me wherever I go- I'm usually in the warmest spot in the house.  Or maybe she likes Star Trek. For all of the knitting I do- blankets are just easier to crochet- she is not opposed.

I need to remind myself of the relaxing I am having.  Sometimes I forget.  It took 2 days for me to stop looking at the clock and wondering what I'd be doing at school.