Cooler by the Coast

More Machine Makeovers

2012-01-06T09:21:00.002-05:00

The Before:

1904 Singer 66: Before soaking the bobbin mechanism in Evapo-rust. The machine worked, but was noisy and looked pretty grungy.

The After:

After a good soak and some polishing with metal cleaner the parts are restored back to their shiny condition and the sewing is much quieter.

Another example of what this cleaner can do: the knob on the left was soaked overnight and polished; the one on the right was just polished. I was shocked to see the difference! You can bet I'm soaking all 4 overnight tonight. The cabinet is going to be real purty once the drawers are urethaned and put back on.

The Before:

1951 Singer 15-91
A great gear-driven machine that will sew through practically anything, it leaves a little bit to be desired in the looks department. The decals on the front of the bed have been worn away from so much use.

The stitch-length indicator's numbers have been rubbed off and the plate is scratched and dull.

The After:

Stitches per inch are once again visible after many unsuccessful tries at repainting the plate. Who knew spray paint wouldn't stick to galvanized steel? And who knew the plate was galvanized steel in the first place? Well, now I do.

Repainted bed of the machine with brand-spankin' new decals. Thankfully, spray paint sticks to cast iron. It's not perfect but it is much better and I'm pleased with the results!

Old Cats, New Tricks

2012-01-06T08:20:00.001-05:00

Ever since I picked up a book on toilet-training cats years ago I've been intrigued by the idea. The author claimed that it was possible to toilet train a cat by incrementally moving the litter box close to the toilet, raising it up, placing it on, then in, the toilet and once the kitty is used to this spot for doing his/her business, finally removing it. He made it sound quite reasonable and the thought of not having to scoop "treasures" out of the litter pan is appealing. The girls are smart enough and willing to learn new things so I figured we have nothing to lose (except the use of the downstairs bathroom while the training is going on!)

Over the course of 2 weeks we moved the box next to the toilet, raised it up on books gradually so that it was at the same height, and then placed it on top. So far, so good. Granted, we do have 2 other litter boxes in the basement which we'll keep there for Gomer and so the girls don't decide to leave 'surprises' around the house if the training doesn't go well, but there is plenty of evidence that the box on the toilet is being used regularly.

Today I replaced the litter pan with a small tray that fit perfectly down into the toilet bowl; this is a big step as it is much smaller than the girls are used to. Hopefully they'll be in the habit and will continue to use it. If not, I'll need to go back to the bigger box set on the toilet for a few more days and try again with the tray next week. With any luck, in another week or two they'll be making deposits into the toilet without any litter there. Best of all, we'll have the use of our downstairs bathroom again.

Admitting the Problem

2011-12-23T07:40:00.000-05:00

Hi. My name is Kim and I'm an addict.

They say the first step to recovery is to acknowledge the problem. Well, consider it acknowledged.

In my defense, one of my best friends is a total enabler. She's not exactly my supplier, but did call me up and let me know where to find it. Even offering to put down a deposit for me and drive me to pick it up. I have no willpower and was unable to resist. See? It's not completely my fault. Really.

The funny thing is, I don't feel bad about it. Isn't there supposed to be some kind of guilt, or remorse? Concern for what my family is going through? I have none. Just that endorphin rush which, I suppose, is part of the addiction.

My substance of choice is cast iron, and in this case, a wooden cabinet and treadle.

Yes, I did it. Another machine. I swear, this one is my last. (I know, that's what I said after the featherweight, but this time I REALLY mean it)

How could I resist? A 1904 Singer 66 treadle machine with Egyptian Lotus design on it- stunning! Mary found it tucked in a corner of a musty smelling antique shop, a bit dusty and in need of a good cleaning. Still working, according to the shop owner, it had belonged to a 92 year old woman who had just died. Clearly, it has seen a lot of use, and at some point was converted to electric with a motor and light.

After heaving it into the back of the car and getting it home the stripping began. I wish I had taken a 'before' photo but I was in such a hurry to clean her up I didn't think of it. The ironwork base and treadle were quite rusty but cleaned up fairly well with a liberal spray of WD-40. The cabinet was in decent condition but definitely needed stripping. Have I mentioned how much I love my hand-held sander? It was fairly quick work and I was able to get the top and large drawer sanded down to bare wood and stained all in one afternoon. I need to do the 4 side storage drawers but they shouldn't take too long.

I removed the machine from the cabinet and will clean and oil, and wax it. The decals are in fairly good condition for their age. After a few days of oiling the exterior I'll use some nice caranuba wax on it to give it a shine and protect the finish.

The shop owner gave me the name of a man in Salem who used to work for singer who is a good source for antique machine parts. The machine will need a new belt for both the motor and treadle as well as a rubber ring for the bobbin-winding mechanism but otherwise seems to be in good working order. I can't wait to finish the cabinet and take her for a test sew!

Mouse in the House

2011-12-22T07:38:00.001-05:00

Sometimes life has a way of delivering exactly what you need, even if you are a cat.

One morning this week when I came down to make coffee, I noticed all 3 of the kitties in the kitchen. Unusual, but I didn't think too much of it, making a beeline for the coffee maker. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gomer lurch awkwardly across the room. Oh no, I thought, is he having a seizure or something? Lo and behold, he was after a mouse, which he then paraded proudly around the room, carrying in his mouth. Oh lordy!

He carried it into the living room and put it down, presumably to further enjoy the chase. The mouse ran directly under the couch. It must have been quite a sight, the 3 felines and myself all peering under the couch from different angles.

Mr Mouse made a dash for it and within seconds Gomer had him in his mouth, doing the victory lap, only to set him down again. More chasing ensued. You'd never have guessed Gomer was 16, the years fell away as he did what cats love to do best. Gracie and Millie seemed willing to take a back seat and let Gomer have his moment in the sun. They enjoyed the chase but deferred to him.

Finally I was able to corral the little creature in a plastic cup. He was definitely befuddled and terrified but I didn't see any wounds on him. I brought him outside where he took a second to get his bearings and then ran off under a pile of leaves. I hope he survived and wasn't any worse for the wear. And that he learned his lesson to stay out of our house!

For the rest of the day Gomer seemed to be on a kitty high, reliving his eventful morning. Maybe it's the medication, or the mouse encounter, or both; whatever it is his appetite is better and he's definitely more active. Who knew a little thing like a mouse could be such good medicine for an old codger?

Merry Christmas to Me

2011-12-12T07:24:00.000-05:00

Ever since I became aware of their existence I've always admired and had a secret longing for the Singer Featherweight. Years ago when I was taking a quilting class a fellow student had one and the teacher ooooh'd and aaaah'd over it. The class immediately gathered around and was given a rundown as to why these machines are so coveted amongst quilters and machine enthusiasts.

They are small, weighing in at only 11 lbs and fit easily into a carrying case. Having been made before the age of "everything is plastic" they're all metal (except for the drive belt) and require very little maintenance. Because the machine is so simple, they are easy to repair; there were quite a few produced from the 30's to the 60's so parts are readily available. In addition to being sturdy little workhorses, they are very pretty, with their shiny black enamel surfaces and gold lettering and scrollwork. Their value is determined not by their ability to sew, but by the condition of the enamel and gold paint.

I happened to be browsing ebay when a Featherweight in what looked to be very good condition appeared, which was reasonably priced. Because these machines are highly desirable and collectible, they can be quite expensive. I closed my eyes and put in a bid once I realized that the location was a mere hour and a half from our house. I decided to leave it to the fates and not bid or check again until the next morning.

Lo and behold, I won the auction! Buyers remorse immediately set in and I was sure it would be in much worse condition than I expected or that there was some major mechanical problem with the machine. Expectations lowered, I arranged to pick it up over the weekend.

I was relieved and delighted to find that it was indeed in very good condition and after a bit of fiddling with the bobbin and upper thread tensions it sews perfectly, like the day it was made. The motor truly purrs. The machine needed a bit of cleaning and there was some old tape residue on the platform, but once that was removed and a coat of wax applied, it looks beautiful. There are a few scratches in the paint, as you'd expect from a 60+ year old machine that has been used, but the scrollwork and lettering are in great shape. The provided manual gives detailed instructions on oiling the moving parts and where to grease the gears. I love that it's possible to provide my own maintenance for the machine. If well taken care of, it should be running smoothly for another 60 years.

In order to take it for a test run, I finished sewing the Christmas gift for my mother-in-law on it. Amazing! Does this mean I'm not going to use my gorgeous, computerized, state-of-the-art modern machine? Heck no! I love my Janome which still runs perfectly after 7 years. There are certain advantages to modern technology and I love working with it. Though it is portable, it's very heavy and not something I'd want to lug around, if not for the weight then out of fear that I'd upset some of the computerized parts with too much jostling.

I have no problem rationalizing this frivolous purchase. I didn't need another, since I have a terrific sewing machine that has never given me a day of trouble (along with 2 other antique Singers.....hmmmm, do I have a problem?) I will eventually downsize and sell the other Singer machines, but for now I'm just so excited to have a little piece of coveted quilting history.

Unexpected Gift

2011-12-05T07:52:00.001-05:00

I've been lucky enough to live with some of the best cats one could ever imagine. After adopting the first, Miss Kitty, who was only with us for 5 years due to a mysterious cardiac condition, we were blessed with Charlotte and Benji. Then along came Gomer- an "unplanned adoption" whom Wilson and I shamelessly guilted Joe into agreeing to. I can't speak for Joe but I know I've never regretted the manipulation, even for a moment.

Initially he was so sick from an upper respiratory infection (something not uncommon in shelter cats) in addition to his "man surgery" we were quite concerned. Several trips to the vet for exams and fluids along with the antibiotics finally paid off; after 10 days of sequestration Gomer was finally ready to come out and meet the rest of the family. Once he was up and about there was quite a bit of sniffing underneath the door by Benji and Charlotte so they had exchanged scented messages, but no face-to-face meetings because we didn't want to infect Charlotte and Benji with whatever illness Gomer had.

Introductions went very well and Gomer assimilated into the family without any trouble. True to his ginger color, he was affable and affectionate. He and Benji hit it off and enjoyed playing outside and snuggling together inside. After hearing many disaster stories of attempts to add a new cat to households over the years I'm amazed that he was accepted so well, but am grateful there wasn't even a hiss or a swat.

This all happened back in 1995, when Wilson was in kindergarten. Over the years Gomer accompanied us on walks to school (along with Benji and sometimes Charlotte- all 3 of our cats were very dog-like) and enjoyed playing in the yard but always came in at night to sleep with Wilson. He's had his mishaps over the years, including a nasty row with Whitey Bulger one summer (though Benji's left ear took the brunt of those battles) as well as a mysterious bite at the base of his tail, which we always suspected Benji of, but could never prove. Despite fiercely defending his territory he never was anything but sweet and loving to us.

Now he remains the last one of our Original Three, not surprising since he was the younger than Benji and Charlotte by a few years. He's 16 by the vet's estimation, no small feat for an in-and-outdoor cat. These days, he spends most of his time indoors curled up in his favorite bed. His once voracious appetite has dwindled to picking at his food and several trips to the vet over the past 6 months have showed continued weight loss. Sadly, the vet thinks he has lymphoma, which is causing the weight loss, since most other diagnoses have been ruled out. We won't definitively confirm the suspicion since we wouldn't opt for treatment at his age, which would consist of chemotherapy. The plan is to keep him as happy and comfortable as possible for his remaining time.

At his age, I suppose every day is a gift, but as his family we nevertheless delude ourselves into thinking he'll be with us always. Now that we know for sure he won't be, and that his days are numbered, instead of dwelling on the fact that he is dying, I'm finding myself being more aware of his presence and enjoying the time we have with him. Each opportunity to curl up on the couch with him, scratch his chin or give him a gentle brushing is savored. He's adjusted to (though doesn't enjoy) the twice a day Prednisolone pills because he knows a tasty meal will follow. The drug has seemed to stimulate his appetite and he's eating better. I confess to letting him have his fill of chicken every time I cook it.

I do feel very sad at the thought of losing our long-time family member, but surprisingly it has also given me the gift of appreciating the time at hand even more. I'm thankful we've had Gomer in our family to enrich our lives in more ways than it's possible to count, and for his important reminder in his last days to remain present in the moment and not to dwell on what is in the future. Thank you, Biggin.

What a Lucky Person I Am

2011-10-20T18:48:00.003-04:00

As I was leaving the hospital after the last of 3 medical appointments I've had this week I felt a huge wave of gratitude wash over me. It wasn't the weather- cold and pouring rain; nor the traffic which was stop and go all the way home. It might have been the chicken dinner that was waiting for us which cooked in the crock pot while I was out, but I'm fairly certain it was the fact that I have such awesome doctors.

Cardiology was first on Monday. They were a tad concerned because my blood pressure was on the low side, something that was the norm until the past 18 months. I was instructed to lower my blood pressure medication if I had dizziness or if my BP is consistently below 100 systolic. Otherwise, they are very pleased with how I am doing and encouraged me to keep up with the exercise and yoga.

Next I went to the CF clinic. Amazingly, my PFTs weren't down as much as I thought they might be, which was great news. My physician thought that there might be some residual systemic inflammatory response after my root canal/extraction adventure and that made a lot of sense. In addition, it's allergy season for me on top of the fact that I have let myself get run down over the past several weeks. Ten days of Levoquin and a month of inhaled antibiotic with more rest and exercise. I left with my instructions feeling a huge sense of relief that I wouldn't need intravenous antibiotics. Whew!

The third, and final, appointment was with my PH doctor. He'd like to try me on a once a day anti-PH medication instead of the 3xday pills that I'm currently on. Popping an extra couple pills three times a day isn't a big deal in the scheme of things, but the fact of the matter is that it's a challenge for me to remember that mid-day dose. Taking the pills with meals doesn't help me much because I often eat 4-5 times a day and don't stick to a 3-meal a day schedule. I did buy a medication alarm which helps tremendously, as long as I'm within earshot.

So, one dose per day with the same (or possibly better) effects will be a huge plus. The down side is that there can be more side effects, but thankfully they are short-lived for the most part. I've had some muscle/joint aches on the increased dose but as predicted they did resolve within 2 weeks. There isn't any official data on how this medication works compared to my current one, but both the doctor and nurse thought that people tended to notice more benefit and did better on it. Sign me up! It will take several weeks to get insurance approval and receive the medication from my mail order pharmacy, but at least things are underway and I should have it by mid-November.

The doctor mentioned that there are several more CF patients who have been referred to him in the past 6 months, confirming his suspicion that this type of PH is indeed linked somehow to CF. This is an area that will need to be explored and studied and is certainly an area of CF medicine which will be expanding in the future as the population ages.

My feeling of extreme gratitude on the drive home was because my doctors (all 3 of them!) and I were able to figure out what was going on and - the best part- are able to treat it. Yes, I still need oxygen for strenuous activity, but for routine things and just strolling around I'm able to get by without it. If not for this dream team of doctors and their (and my) persistence I might have continued to decline and nobody would have thought it extraordinary- after all CF and shortness of breath in a 46 year old- not a huge shocker. I know there have been patients who came before me who never had an explanation for a sudden decline. I am incredibly thankful to have been given my life back and to have an answer to my sudden change in health. I am very lucky indeed.

Cold Cream Recipe

2011-10-20T18:23:00.002-04:00

Yet another home made recipe I want to hang on to and I know if I put it here I'll easily be able to put my hands on it when I want it. Not that I'll need to make it again for quite some time, mind you, but it's always good to keep it in a safe place.

Rose Water Cold Cream

0.5 oz stearic acid
0.5 oz palm oil
4 oz. sweet almond oil
rose hydrosol (rosewater)

Melt hard the oils and combine with almond oil and rose hydrosol. Stick blend until combined, allow to cool and pour into jar. Great for removing makeup!

Cleaning House

2011-10-10T07:17:00.000-04:00

Fall seems a great time to make changes in life. I think the Jewish calendar is definitely on to something with this being their New Year. There's something intuitive about nature and the gardens closing up shop, setting in for the winter months of hibernation. Spring brings freshness and renewal, but fall is a time for clearing out and paring down.

Mother nature assisted us this past week, whether we wanted it or not, by surprising us with a 5.5" rain storm - all in a matter of 3 hours. The sump pump we have in our basement was incapable of keeping up and we accumulated 9" of water in our basement and garage, a first in the 20 years we have been in this house. Sure, there's been an inch of water after a huge snow melt or week of rain, but it was really bizarre to see things actually floating around when I descended the basement stairs.

I should have known something was wrong even before I went down there; Gracie was head-butting my leg while I was washing up in the upstairs bathroom, something she never does. Both she and Millie were quite perturbed at all the water, so much that one of their litter boxes was afloat.

We were very fortunate that the sump was able to remove most of the water within a few hours; the rest was able to be mopped up with towels wrung into a bucket and emptied outside. Fans and the dehumidifier took care of the dampness over the next few days. Amazingly we didn't lose any major appliances- the washer/drier/furnace all worked after the water receded. The things we lost were just things we were storing - mostly because we could - some old doors, screens, carpeting and the like, all of which was tossed on trash day.

Will we miss any of it? I doubt it. None of it was being used and we probably would have gotten rid of it years ago had we not had the storage space in the basement. There may come a time in the future when we'll say: "oh, too bad we don't have such-and-such, it would have come in handy right now" but it really isn't a practical way to live life, hanging on to things "just in case". Maybe this was Mother Nature's way of reminding us that it's better to let things go and not hang on to stuff for which we have no need at the present moment.

The basement does look a lot better without all the junk laying around and it's nice to be a bit less cluttered. In the next couple weeks I'm hoping to do more work down there, getting rid of things we don't use (unless they are things Wilson will need when he sets up house) and donating them. That way, if and when we have another reminder from Mother Nature we'll already be prepared.

To Market, to Market

2011-10-09T07:58:00.002-04:00

The day couldn't have been any more beautiful; when we arrived at 7:30 the air was chilly but it soon warmed up with the sun on our backs and by noon we were perspiring. The weathermen had predicted 80 but it was difficult to believe when the previous day had been only 60.

This was the first farmer's market we had ever attended and it was a lot of fun. The traffic seemed a bit lighter than usual but it may have been because we were tucked over in a corner next to the tennis courts. We were, however, placed between a highly successful bakery (the aromas were intoxicating!) and a jam/preserve-maker. We bought a sticky bun and a loaf of olive bread from the bakery, both of which were amazing.

Sales were sporadic but good-enough, and it was fun to see some friends stop by. All in all, a good (but tiring) four hours. I'm looking forward to the next one in 2 weeks! Off to make some more soap......

Last Piece to the Puzzle

2011-10-08T05:10:00.002-04:00

During the painting process we ended up shifting some of the furniture around, which left a space next to the fireplace. I knew exactly, in my mind, what size/style of chair I wanted to put there, but it was a matter of waiting for the right situation to come along.

Then, a post on Craigslist: free chair, the next town over. I quickly replied and somehow managed to shove it into the trunk of my little hatchback. Eventually, it will get new upholstery, but for now, it's exactly what I was looking for!

Finally we have enough seating in our living room to have company. C'mon over!

Chair Part Two

2011-09-22T07:24:00.001-04:00

The next step after removing all the old upholstery and batting was to replace the underpinning fabric. I decided to encase all the padding in unbleached muslin in order to hold everything in place. The cushions were then stapled back on the chair, and on the seat base, they had to be hand sewn with a fish-hook like needle.

Then for the fun part: cutting out the new fabric! I chose this linen because it tied the color of the walls and rug together well.

The back has been covered here and the base is being sewn together and applied.

Everything finished but the cushion. Turns out I saved the most difficult piece for last. After several attempts at a zipper it's finally finished- thank goodness the zipper is in the back, where nobody can see it!

I wonder what my grandmother would think of her chair now?

Chair Affair

2011-09-21T17:13:00.003-04:00

Anyone familiar with the children's story If You Give a Mouse a Cookie will understand why, now that the living room has been painted, it is necessary to change the curtains, artwork and also the upholstery on my grandmother's chair. Once one thing changes it's like a domino effect; everything else looks drab and dull in comparison and on it goes. The curtains were easy and I'm sure we have enough pictures around the house that we can shuffle them around and find some that complement our new decor.

My grandmother's chair was the biggest hurdle. Not wanting to pay several hundred dollars (or wait a month) to have a professional re-upholster it, I decided to give it a try. From what I'd read it's a pain in the neck but with a little elbow grease, some sewing skills and ingenuity along with a screwdriver, staple gun and new fabric shouldn't be something I can't can't handle.

First, the undressing of the chair frame:

Cushion removed to show the base of the chair.
Gracie getting one last scratch on the old fabric.

Evidence of a few other scratches, but nobody was willing to claim responsibility. We won't be having any more of that on the new chair, girls!

*insert striptease music here*

I wanted to take a lot of photos during the removal process so I'd remember in what order to put things back together. I had to be careful taking off the old upholstery so I didn't rip it because I was going to use pieces as templates from which to cut the new fabric.

The demolition only took one afternoon. There were about 10,000 tacks holding all the batting and fabric in place, but finally they were all out. Now the fun begins!

What Would You Do?

2011-09-12T07:44:00.000-04:00

A friend of my parents was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A perfectly healthy guy, only in his early 50s. Then suddenly this diagnosis, with a grim prognosis. There is a new treatment which can be life-extending. Who wouldn't want to buy more time in light of being given a death sentence?

Although it's not something I dwell on, the events of the past 18 months as well as having lost several close friends has made me think. What would I do? Would I grasp at that straw, no matter how fragile, to have more time? Or simply enjoy what time was there, to the fullest extent? My theoretical mind tells me I'd prefer not quantity, but quality. Extension of life comes with its drawbacks: procedures, treatments and many unpleasant complications. Is that life? Does the act of simply drawing breath, regardless of negative side effects, make it all worthwhile? At this point it's easy to say "no, I wouldn't want to live longer if I was suffering" but as my friend Paul would say "there are no atheists in a foxhole". I don't think it's possible to truly know what you would do until you are in that situation.

So rather than dwell on the "what ifs" why not think about how I would like to spend my life if given, say, 6 months to live. Exotic travel? Doing all the things I've saved for 'someday', throwing caution to the wind? Buying a boat, sailing off into the sunset? Drawing up a bucket list and crossing things off?

After quite a bit of soul-searching I came to the conclusion that I am already living the life I would lead if I knew my time was very limited. I'd enjoy being at my home. Spend time with Joe, eating good food, cooking, taking walks, enjoying a movie. Spending an afternoon with Wilson. Quality time with friends, one-on-one, with the ability to talk, listen and laugh. Tending the garden, taking care of the house, hanging out the laundry. Being able to take a moment to notice the sunlight on the dewy grass or to watch a goldfinch delicately eating seeds from the echinacea.

This is life. These are the little moments that make it up and the things that make me happy and fulfilled. Of course, they are different for everybody and each person must figure out what makes them happy. I'll always want to learn and try new things but if I was to be hit by that proverbial bus tomorrow I don't believe I'd have any regrets for things I haven't done. And that, I believe, is a life very well lived indeed.

Labor of Love

2011-09-11T07:23:00.006-04:00

In my empty-nest-burst-of-painting-enthusiasm this year I've painted only 2 closet interiors in the 14 days since Wilson moved back to school. 'Til now. We have tackled the largest, most daunting project to date: the living room. Wallpaper with at least 2 coats of paint on it. Not quite the Everest of painting projects, but certainly our biggest one yet.

Surprisingly, the wallpaper, even though painted at least twice, came off pretty easily. What was left behind was a turquoise-colored wall with lots of holes, some badly patched, some not at all. First on the list was to patch the holes and spackle the uneven spots. Then, paint the ceiling, do a bit of hole-filling on the oak trim, sand and urethane. Next comes sanding the walls, priming them and finally, painting. About a weeks worth of work with both of us laboring on it.

One end of the room is taken up entirely by oak bookshelves and the fireplace; no painting needed there, only a bit of light sanding and urethane.

I painted the radiators a few weeks ago while I was doing the trim in the closets. The wall has a few paint samples in addition to a lot of pockmarks from all the spackling.

Today Joe will be sanding the walls one last time. Tomorrow: priming and then the final 2 coats of paint. Once this is completed, a quick coat of fresh paint in the kitchen and the entire house will be finished. What on earth will I do then?

Gracie and Millie will be very happy to have things put back together.

Feline Assistant

2011-09-05T07:53:00.002-04:00

Anyone who has ever lived with a cat knows that they have minds of their own and don't take orders well. Gracie, who will jump off the couch from a deep sleep when a human dares to sit next to her, loves to keep me company while I'm trying to sew. No sooner do I get the quilt spread out and the machine ready than she is in position, preparing to flop down on it when the moment is right. Her expression says it all: "don't even think about moving me".

Of course, I reinforce this behavior by NOT moving her.

How can I when she is so darned cute? I hope the recipients of this baby quilt don't mind a little fur on it. Gracie likes to add a little something to a gift; she's thoughtful like that.

By Any Other Name

2011-09-02T17:37:00.003-04:00

The weather has finally turned cooler for a stretch with crystal clear nights and warm sunny days. If I was in charge of heaven I'd arrange for this climate- cool enough so that the nights are chilly but the days only need a light tshirt and shorts.

Even the garden seems relieved to be rid of the hot, humid weather; the rose has produced a single, red, perfect blossom as if thanking mother nature for the reprieve. Even Irene couldn't discourage this bloom, which is all the sweeter for it being the only one.

Survival of the Fittest

2011-07-25T09:25:00.002-04:00

Even though there was a 4 day heat wave this past week the garden looks remarkably unaffected. The flower beds only get watered with whatever mother nature provides but the containers and vegetables are watered just about daily with saved water from the rain barrels. The containers on the porch are doing especially well.

Petunias and sweet potato vine:

Goldenrod, hosta flower and red day lilies on the south side of the house.
Pale yellow day lily. It's taken this plant several years to finally bloom and it's been worth the wait.
Peach-colored fancy day lily.
Deep red day lily planted by the previous owner of our house. Love the unusual red color.

Purple coneflowers. The bees and goldfinches love these.
Queen Anne's lace. My grandmother used to pick this and once showed me how, if the stem is placed in water colored with food coloring, the flower would turn that color.
Orange and yellow day lily from my friend Cynthia.
Back garden along the fence: Black-eyed Susans, gayfeather, phlox and bee balm.

The garden has evolved quite a bit over the past 20 years. If a plant doesn't do well under the conditions provided I don't force it. New additions are watered for the first year and then left to survive pretty much on their own. This way, I know whatever is there is tough enough to weather a hot, dry year without any pampering, which cuts down on the amount of water we use. This is the 2nd year I haven't needed to turn on the hoses!

Acid Trip

2011-07-21T08:47:00.003-04:00

In my quest to find all-natural cleaners for every purpose in the house I have come across a new and effective weapon. Citric acid! I've been using vinegar and baking soda to clean the bathrooms for about a year and for the most part, find either or both of these clean very well, with one exception: the glass shower door. Everything else sparkles but there is a dull white film on the door, no matter how much I scrub.

I accidentally came across some information online while searching for something else that said citric acid is an excellent cleaner for hard water stains. I was intrigued! Apparently one can purchase it in the grocery store in Australia, but I didn't have any luck locating any here so bit the bullet and ordered some online.

The information I had found recommended using a 10% solution for cleaning hard water stains, but I've since read that 6% will do the trick. Why use any more than is necessary? I put it to the test last night after mixing up a spray bottle with distilled water and the citric acid granules. Because it is an acid I did wear gloves for the measuring and mixing. Once diluted, I sprayed the shower door and gave it a good scrub. Voila! Finally a sparkly clean shower door.

Citric acid is used in foods and beverages as a preservative and/or flavoring to add tartness. It's environmentally benign so I feel good about using it when I need to without the worry that I'm putting something potentially toxic down the drain or into the bathroom air when I spray it.

Here's my recipe so I won't lose it:

Citric acid cleaner

60g citric acid granules

1L distilled water

Comfrey Salve and Cuticle Cream

2011-07-12T17:24:00.004-04:00

I'm going to record these two recipes in order to have them written down. I'm forever losing the scraps of paper that I jot things down on and I hope this will get around that little problem.

Comfrey is supposed to be excellent for minor skin abrasions and muscle aches. Since I seem to always have at least one scratch or cut at any given time I thought it might be a good ointment to try to make. I infused some olive oil with 0.3 oz of dried comfrey leaves for 3 days. After straining the comfrey out I mixed 60g of the oil with 6g of beeswax and heated it until the beeswax melted. It's a pretty pale green color now that it's hardened and the perfect consistency for applying. It absorbs quickly, though is a little bit oily feeling. *Note: I've been told by a trusted friend that applying comfrey-infused oil to cuts can result in infection by trapping bacteria underneath. Good to know!

I came across this cuticle cream recipe online and wanted to make some up. I've tried Burt's Bees cuticle cream and love it, so I hope this will be close. My hands are always a mess, thanks to gardening (without gloves) and soapmaking (again, without gloves!). Hopefully they'll look a bit better with this cream.

15g beeswax

4g stearic acid

30g shea butter

20g olive oil

25g jojoba oil

15g avocado oil

1-2g fragrance (1g rosemary 1g peppermint EOs)

1g suttocide preservative.

Everything was heated in the microwave and stirred until melted. I'll update with how these new additions to the medicine cabinet work. *Edited to increase the amount of beeswax- the cream was a bit less firm than I like so I added an additional 10g of beeswax to the original 5g.

Special Gift

2011-07-10T07:40:00.000-04:00

Since I removed the wallpaper and painted our bathroom walls several years ago the spot to the right of the sink has remained unadorned. I've tried various pictures and pieces of art but have never found a piece that looked as though it belonged there. Preferring not to force it, I decided to wait until the right thing presented itself. I knew that I'd know it when I saw it.

Then one day, a box arrived from Pittsburgh, which contained a pastel done by a dear friend who had recently died. Her best friend kindly framed it up and sent it along as a remembrance of her. Immediately upon unwrapping the gift I knew exactly where I would put it: the empty spot on the bathroom wall. I did try it in other places, just to be sure, but knew that would be where it would hang.

Whether or not you believe in fate, I honestly believe that there was some kind of cosmic plan that had me reserve this particular spot for Sandy's picture. True, it would have been very easy to switch it out had another piece been hanging there, but it is all the more special and noticeable because the wall had been bare before her art arrived.

Anticipation

2011-07-09T09:17:00.006-04:00

A patient person I'm not.

Well, actually it's strange; sometimes I can be very patient - for example with certain situations or people I'm able to keep my feelings in check and wait for a situation to play out. I quilt and knit, both endeavors which require some degree of patience. I can sit and wait for an hour in a doctor's waiting room with barely a grumble. Yet, when it comes to growing vegetables I'm sorely tempted to peek beneath the soil to see how things are getting along.

Oh, I know that's the worst thing you can do when something is growing. This isn't a rational impatience! Plants need to be left on their own, undisturbed, to do their own thing and produce their fruit. Intellectually, I know this is true. But somehow I have the most difficult time resisting the urge to dig around - just a little bit - to see if there truly are any bulbs or tubers forming.

Clearly, this is something I need to work on, so the next logical step is for me to formulate a coping mechanism. (After all, that's how I am able to sit in a doctor's waiting room for nearly an hour - I have a plan for how to deal with that situation and bring a book or some knitting!)

I decided today, as I was itching to tug on a set of onion leaves, that I'd dig up one of the potato plants to satisfy my curiosity. Hopefully that will tide me over until the underground crops are ready to be harvested. The potato had flowered (which is when the tubers have started to form) so I knew there had to be something under all that soil. I tugged and the plants came out with little difficulty.

Not having much experience with potatoes I didn't know whether this was a good or bad sign. Maybe there are no potatoes growing, which is why the plant came up with so little protest? Or perhaps they are ready for harvesting and that is why the plant was easy to remove? Only one way to find out: don the gloves and start digging.

Way, way down below the soil level my fingers touched something smooth and round: a potato! From one square foot I removed a total of 6 small Yukon Gold potatoes. So exciting! We're going to eat them this evening with our pulled pork sandwiches.

Now that my curiosity has been satisfied I can leave the rest of the underground vegetables alone to grow and hopefully produce more crops. I need to trust that mother nature will do her thing, but I still can't seem to get over the fact that it seems like magic when I pull something out of our garden to put on the dinner table.

How to be European

2011-07-04T08:57:00.004-04:00

Sitting outdoors under a sun-umbrella, sipping a small glass of chianti and eating a delicious impromptu meal of pasta, cheese and arugula on Saturday afternoon we decided that we felt entirely European. Maybe it was the wine talking, but it felt decadent to be enjoying something so much that we didn't even plan. It was then and there that we decided it would be a good thing to try to do something European each and every day.

Perhaps we should define "European"- at the time we were indulging in a simple pleasure- lunch outdoors with friends- so for our purposes we decided that it would be a special moment incorporated into our day.

Each person's definition may differ slightly. My goal is to make more effort to be spontaneous. (Does it count if you are planning to be spontaneous? hmmmmm...... sounds like an oxymoron to me) Slow down. Enjoy things more by being present, even for tasks I don't particularly enjoy. Bring fresh flowers in each day. Grow and prepare my own foods as much as possible. Purchase less. Streamline. Hostess more. Stop trying to fix other people's problems.

Whoa! I'm getting away from myself here, that's quite a list. All worthy goals and things I would like to work towards, but for now I'll start by incorporating a special moment into each day, even if it's just taking a minute to cut a few flowers and bring them in. Gotta start somewhere, right?

Today's Your Birthday

2011-07-01T09:06:00.004-04:00

I suppose the older you get it naturally follows that the calendar fills up with anniversary dates: someone's birthday, an anniversary of their death or how long it has been since you've lived in a particular place. Although the yearly markers can be painful or bittersweet, it is evidence of a life well lived, or so I hope.

It seems that each month now has several sad anniversaries in it. Today would have been Sandy's 30th birthday - something most people take for granted. It seems so unfair to have such a talented and special person not even make it that far. It definitely gives credence to the saying "only the good die young".

I don't know whether there is any awareness after death; I'd like to think so and know that Sandy would be honored by her memorial service tomorrow. Her closest friends, some food, drink and a tribute to who she really was - no religious mumbo-jumbo, no church service. Friends, shared memories and camaraderie. The important things.

Happy Birthday to you, Sandy, wherever you are. Thanks for being such an inspiration and good friend. You are greatly missed.

2011-06-10T08:22:00.003-04:00

Wouldn't it be really cool to be a bee and see that pink speckled landing strip leading up to the pollen you will collect?

I love the folklore that Foxgloves got their name because the flowers are the right size to slip onto foxes' paws, allowing them to creep silently up to their prey.

Peonies made heavier by the rain.

Garlic! Potatoes. Green lettuce. Broccoli. Something keeps eating my carrot seedlings. >:(

False indigo. This has to be one of my favorite colors of all time.

An exquisite pink and yellow peony.

Peony Time

2011-06-05T11:22:00.002-04:00

The peonies are extremely happy this year and are putting on a spectacular show.

Garden - Week of May 16

2011-05-22T07:55:00.002-04:00

The garden changes dramatically from week to week, it seems impossibly lush after all the rain we've had. If this is an indication of how the summer will go, the eggplants and peppers are not going to be very happy campers, but everything else will flourish.

Solomon Seal - you'd never believe how sweet these tiny flowers smell. The entire side of the house has this sweet, delicate fragrance. It took me a while to figure out where it was coming from.

Bleeding Heart and epimedium leaves.

Camassia bulbs.

Pink Lilacs.

Side kitchen steps.

Food for Thought

2011-05-19T16:54:00.004-04:00

I heard this saying the other evening and wanted to write it down somewhere that I wouldn't lose it. This seemed like the best place.

"When you are born, you cry and everyone rejoices; when you die everyone cries and you rejoice."

It seemed appropriate that today my acupuncturist told me she is 9 weeks pregnant. And thus, continues the cycle of life. I'm thrilled beyond words for her - and me- now I get to make a baby quilt!!!

Good Grief, Charlie Brown

2011-05-14T07:58:00.003-04:00

Psychologically speaking, grief is a purely selfish emotion; it's all about "me", one's ego and what the loss means to that part of our psyche. I remember learning that in one of my college psychology classes, the professor spending quite a bit of time on the subject. To my 20-year-old mind, it made perfect sense - in a theoretical way. I knew nothing of loss at the time, even being fortunate enough to still have all 4 of my grandparents.

Of course it's all about us! It is a very uncommon person, if there is indeed anyone at all, who isn't thinking of themselves- consciously or subconsciously- when they grieve. It may be masked as "oh but he/she was so young", "she suffered so", "what about his family", but in each and every one of those cases it's our psyche projecting what this person's death means to him or her. We put ourselves in the deceased's shoes, or the family's shoes. None of this is conscious. Something that this person provided to us - to our ego- is lost. Naturally we are sad, an important part of our life is gone. But the root cause of sadness is the loss of what this person did for us, for our ego.

It sounds pretty awful when put in those terms and this is just one explanation of grief from a psychological standpoint. Other philosophies have their rationales- Eastern ways of thinking might explain it by blaming our "attachment" to the person, when in reality everything and everyone is impermanent and attachments only bring pain and suffering.

It's not that difficult to understand these ideas in intellectual terms but the raw, gut-aching feeling of grief is very real. Oftentimes our bodies have physical reactions to profound grief; nausea, lack of appetite, insomnia, depression, irritability, restlessness. The mind and body are inextricably connected. Animals have been noted to grieve the death of a mate by exhibiting the same symptoms that humans do.

Grief serves a cultural purpose as well as a psychological one and is our way of healing. There are many rituals to give the hands and mind something to "do", to keep one in motion. Services to be planned and and attended; small and large tasks occupy the most difficult first few days and weeks. Does one ever get accustomed to the loss? Surely it changes over time, but there is always that hole in the heart, in the ego, and the person.

Grief is not rational. Understanding the root causes does not make it go away. Being able to say goodbye to the person does not magically give one a "get out of grief free" card. It's a gauntlet that must always be walked and there is no feeling better - not the correct word, perhaps 'at peace' with the loss is more appropriate- until the process is experienced. It's never completed but is an initial stone in the pond that creates ripples throughout the rest of a person's life. Sometimes large, sometimes small, but always there.

I know you lived your life well, Sandy, and were at peace with your death. You had and gave the gift of knowing it approached and were able to say goodbye, to receive others' goodbyes. I truly believe your soul had completed its purpose and you were ready. That doesn't mean I'm not going to miss you, my ego be damned, and there will always be a place in my heart for you and the others who have gone before and those who will go after. Deep peace to you, my friend. That's the best I can wish for.

Mother's Day

2011-05-08T16:52:00.001-04:00

This is the new garden statue Joe gave me for Mother's Day - he's already at home in a shady corner where I can admire him each time I walk by.

Georgia Peach

2011-04-29T07:30:00.008-04:00

This is the steeple of the Presbyterian church near Chippewa square in downtown Savannah. The feather that blows in the wind several times during the movie Forrest Gump is said to have blown from here and the park bench featured during several scenes when Forrest converses with various people waiting for buses was placed in this square.

The city has a total of 22 lovely square parks situated throughout the city. There were 24, but 2 were removed to allow for "progress" - city buildings. The squares are each named and are a memorial to various city and Confederate heroes.

The oldest cemetery in the city has some 700 gravestones and crypts with gorgeous old stonework and dates back to the late 1700s.

In its day, Savannah was home to 3 iron foundries and everywhere in the city there is evidence of the talented craftsmen. Statues, gates, railings and decorative iron patterns around windows are examples of their artistry.

The magnolias were in bloom while we were there, the azaleas having just finished up their display. In New England, the magnolias blossom prior to the leaves unfurling; but in the south, where the trees are not deciduous, the waxy foliage is the perfect backdrop to the large, white flowers.

The exotic scent of jasmine was quite literally everywhere - what might otherwise be mistaken for a nondescript vine, it was in full bloom with its sweet aroma hanging in the humid air. We never tired of the perfume. Everyone seemed to have jasmine growing on walls, around doors, up trellises and in pots.

"Dreams of Savannah mornings hung with Spanish moss" - Lloyd Cole

We were encouraged not to touch the Spanish Moss as it is home to many little critters that bite and cause skin irritation. It's a bit spooky, especially at night, this ethereal, airy clump that hangs from the branches of the live oaks. No damage is done to the trees as it's an epiphyte and lives off the moisture in the air, which is quite plentiful, I might add.

Just one example of the beautiful architecture of the city.

Despite the 88 degree heat and high humidity, there was always a soft breeze that gave us some relief, as well as the many shady trees. If it is in fact true that southerners move slowly, they have good reason; it's bloody hot. Fortunately for me the city is completely flat and easy to walk around despite the high temps and humid air.

Short Stories and Letting Go

2011-04-28T07:26:00.003-04:00

Try as I might, I've never been a fan or short stories, preferring the depth and breadth of a novel instead. I appreciate the challenge of a short story, the need to draw in the reader in a short amount of time, develop characters and create a snapshot with words, but I'm always left hanging with the abruptness of the ending and wanting more.

It occurred to me that life is comprised of both novels and short stories. While we were traveling in the south, we had the opportunity to meet a number of people who were staying at the same inn and enjoyed sharing a conversation or two during our stays, over meals or drinks at night. We met an interesting couple from Sydney, Australia, who now live in London. A group of six from Texas who get together once a year in a different city somewhere in the US. A young man in a bar sitting next to us who went to the same small college that Joe did in NY. One couple was even from the town next to ours in MA, much to all of our astonishment!

Although it felt strange to say goodbye after becoming friendly and sharing a meal or drink together, we all eventually went our separate ways. Perhaps it's odd, but I'm left wondering: do they enjoy the rest of their trip? Did they like the restaurant we recommended? There is a chance we'll cross paths with the couple from Marblehead at some point in the future, but the likelihood that we'll ever see anyone else we met is slim. We enjoyed each others' company while we had it, but said goodbye and best of luck when we parted, knowing we would probably never see one another again.

The lesson of letting go and allowing fate to send us in different directions applies to nearly everything: stories, life, friendships, youth, health. If we're able to handle these things with grace then we are truly at peace with the nature of things.

Time Keeps on Slipping

2011-04-15T08:23:00.003-04:00

It's funny how the mind plays tricks on us and from one year to the next our memories of things can get distorted; we often remember things how we wanted them to be, instead of how they truly were.

I could have sworn that the birds had

already moved into the birdhouse by this time last year, but looking back through April of 2010's blog posts, I can see that it was not the case. I'm relieved; I was disappointed to think that the nesting spot might go unoccupied this year; it was such a pleasure to see the activity and know that the house was put to good use.The same is true for my vegetable seedlings. I was thinking that I had started them earlier last year and that there was much more growth by now. Again, not so! On a post from April 7 2010 I could see that the seeds had germinated but only had one set of leaves. Currently, there are several sets on most of the little plants that are growing in the flats on the porch.

Hello, Dahlia!

Now if I could just keep the cats out of the pots in which I've started the dahlia tubers. Millie seems to think they are wonderful litter boxes!

"Chitting" potatoes to allow for earlier growth.

After this long winter I must be in more of a rush than usual to have spring arrive with all the delights it brings with it; I need to be more patient and not worry that we are behind. Things will evolve as they always do! Many of the shrubs in the yard have a greenish halo around them, the leaves are preparing to burst on to the scene at the first stretch of warm weather. The lilacs have loads of buds on them and the peonies are stretching their necks out of the soil. Even the clematis are starting to grow.

And now I've documented the goings on in the garden so that next year, when I worry that we are far behind or ahead of where we've been in previous years, I can reassure myself that indeed we are right on schedule: exactly

where we should be.

Beautiful Addition

2011-04-11T07:06:00.002-04:00

This lovely birdbath is the latest addition to the garden; the leaf is meant to collect rainwater, there is a perching branch above and below and a bronze bird looks down from above. I absolutely love it and put it right beneath the back deck where there are foxglove and clematis behind it with white and red rose bushes adjacent. Hopefully in another week or two the plants will have matured a bit so the ground doesn't look so naked. This is exactly the sort of thing I would have picked out for myself for the garden, it fits in perfectly, but as it so happens it was a surprise gift from some very special and dear friends.

I'm looking forward to all the feathered visitors who will surely enjoy this as much as I do! I am very lucky indeed to have so many wonderful people in my life.

Say Hello to My Little Friend

2011-04-10T08:48:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was finally warm enough to get outside and do the last of the spring raking and cleanup. Often in spring it's warmer away from the coast but a sea breeze will keep us on the 40s, while areas further inland enjoy 60 degrees. Not only does the wind make us much more chilly, it makes trying to corral the leaves and stuff them into bags nearly impossible.

Seven compostable bags of leaves later, the gardens are cleared and new spring growth is revealed. My spring 'daily rounds' are now possible- preferably with a hot cup of tea- to check on which plants are coming up and which ones have decided to call it quits.

While Joe was out at the DIY store picking up more leaf bags I heard a rustling in the leaves behind the rhododendron. When I approached I saw some movement and discovered that we have a wonderful addition to the yard- a small garden snake! An auspicious sign, snakes are great in the garden for eating insects, as well as being a sign of a healthy eco-system. I couldn't be happier to see this little guy!

Getting a photo of him/her proved to be difficult, as snakes do tend to be fairly shy. Other years I've seen them from time to time, slithering into a crevice in the cement by the back basement door under the porch or sadly hanging from Charlotte's jaw. This one seemed to just want to bask in the early spring sunshine. He'd pick a nice spot, then as soon as I'd approach with the camera, he'd go behind a log or under the leaves. After a while if I kept very still he'd re-emerge and find another suitable spot.

My patience eventually paid off and I got a couple good pictures of him. I do hope to be seeing more of our visitor, even if it's just the end of his tail as he makes his way to a new hiding place. Now, what to name him?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall.......

2011-04-03T07:58:00.001-04:00

Rather than discard the wicker-framed mirror we had in the old upstairs bathroom when we remodeled, I decided there would be nothing lost if I tried to mosaic it.

The wicker was removed, leaving a nice flat frame. I had quite a few pink and burgundy dishes sitting in the basement, just waiting to be broken, and the bathroom workmen had very thoughtfully left behind some leftover white grout.

The mirror came out pretty good and looks perfect in the downstairs bathroom, with it's pink/burgundy tile. Sometimes you just have to go with it! The total cost of this mirror is probably about $5 (for the china plates). Everything else was reused or re-purposed.

Kicking Back

2011-04-01T07:52:00.000-04:00

These four socks represent the fruits of my winter's knitting labors. I've tried several different sock patterns and by far this one is my favorite! There's quite a bit of stretch in this lace pattern, making the fit good even if the sock is a bit too small or large.

I love being able to have something small and portable I can work on while waiting in doctor's offices or in front of the television in the evening; that way I don't feel like I'm "wasting" time. The next pair will be cantaloupe colored in the same pattern. Twenty-eleven is definitely the year of the sock.

More Garden Tour

2011-03-31T07:34:00.005-04:00

When we had the outside of the house re shingled in 2009 we had a small (8x8) deck put on. It's only big enough for 2 people to sit on, plus some plants, which was the primary purpose, rather than a big "party deck" for entertaining. On a warm summer's evening or weekend morning we enjoy sitting at the little table and enjoying a cup of coffee or meal al fresco.

I've been keeping a watchful eye on the birdhouse every time I'm doing work outside; no viewings to date that I've seen. I seem to remember last year several varieties of birds popping in and out a few times each, checking the house out. I'm hoping it won't go unoccupied this year. Maybe everything is just that much later due to all the snow and cold weather we've had? There is snow in the forecast tomorrow, too. I guess I wouldn't feel much like constructing a nest, either.

I love having little figures and statues around the garden - but no garden gnomes here! This is Easter Island Man with a bunch of daffodils coming up behind him. I'll have to take photos of the other statuary: a turtle, 2 cats, a bunny and a couple of owls.

The gardens are ready to go! Now if only the weather would cooperate and warm up a bit. I received the seed potatoes yesterday and set them out on the 3-season porch to chit. I'm hoping for a nice crop this year; Yukon golds and some red variety which I can't remember the name of right now. Yum! The seedlings were transplanted into larger pots yesterday and all seem to have survived.

This is my favorite spot to sit in the early morning and have my coffee. Joe and Wilson gave me this garden bench for Mother's Day many years ago; I love the weathered look. Next to the bench is a "Miss Kim" miniature lilac bush which I picked up at Home Depot last year on the cheap. There's also a wine box planter and stone owl keeping watch.

To the left of the bench is the back basement steps which leads to my little potting area. I've kept several potted plants there this winter for protection, and all seem to have survived. I'll have to feature that space in another post. Joe built me a brick counter where I can play with the dirt and pots in a sheltered area under the 3-season porch.

I have so many more photos of little yard highlights, but blogger only lets me post 5 at a time. There will be future garden posts as things begin to grow and green up.

Walk With Me

2011-03-27T17:15:00.008-04:00

I've read that cats are very in attached to where they live, so much so that if you move and don't keep your cat inside for a few weeks for him to become accustomed to their new "territory" they will try to make their way back to their old home. It's thought to have something to do with the magnetic fields of the earth, but to me it sounds like cats just have a very sophisticated internal GPS that drives them to return to where they consider "home".

Although I enjoy traveling to different places, I am very cat-like in that my absolute favorite place on earth is the little 5000 square foot piece of the earth that is ours. I love our home and yard better than any place else on earth. Yes, waterfront mansions are impressive with their views and floor plans that are as big as our entire property, but if push came to shove I'd pick our little house and gardens any day.

Technically it is spring, but you'd never know it by walking around the yard, which is what I did this morning with my camera. If you drive or walk down our street and stop in front of our house this is what you'll see:

Because the garage is underneath

the house, one of our cars is always in the driveway. I always

thought it was strange to have a garage where there should be basement, but have found that it's nice in the winter; our garage and basement aren't heated, but unless the temperature goes well below zero outside, it stays above freezing in the garage. So much nicer to get into a 40 degree car than a 12 degree one!

To the right of the driveway and big oak tree

with the climbing hydrangea on it, there is a pathway that leads up to the side kitchen door. If you walk around the stairs, you'll follow a wood-chipped path that will take you to the back yard.

Along the side foundation there are various perennials, a rhodie, birdbath and a few herbs.

A few crocus that have escaped the hungry squirrels. They even had the audacity to leave a few chewed purple leaves and saffron tassels in the birdbath. Have they no shame?!

Further down the path is a lilac that just last year produced its first fragrant blooms. The white fence was trash-picked (I prefer the term "up-cycled") and installed to hide the compost bins. Although they do good work, they aren't very pretty.

The lowly bins and other various gardening paraphernalia.

The tour will continue with the rest of the back yard tomorrow. Please stay tuned.

Long Time Coming

2011-03-25T08:08:00.006-04:00

When I look at the date of my last post, I'm shocked to see it is from the beginning of February. Nearly 2 months! It isn't that there haven't been things, both good and bad, that have been going on. There has been plenty of material about which to write, but for some unknown reason, I haven't been able to put anything down. I'll use the Reader's Digest format to update life events to the present.

Bathroom Renovation: Done!

New vanity and linen tower. Oh, the storage!

Toilet nook.

Millie enjoying the radiator heat. Shower to the left, toilet behind the door.

The bathroom is completed, exactly 5 weeks after starting the project. I'm thrilled with the results; we have so much more useable storage, a more spacious floor plan, larger shower and far prettier room with more light. Morning and evening rituals are now a pleasure to be enjoyed rather than necessities to be rushed through as quickly as possible. Hopefully this will be the last home renovation we need to do for quite some time.

Health

After limping through most of the fall and winter not feeling 100%, I was finally unwell enough to realize I needed a hospitalization. Well, actually, it took my docs to point that out to me, as usual. Even after being admitted, I told Joe: "I really don't think I need to be here".

Surprise! I did. It was actually a good thing. Lots of diagnostics, specialists and time to rest sorted a few things out. The IV antibiotics did their job and my lungs are now in better shape than they were prior to going in. The new medication, Revatio, the pulmonary hypertension specialist started me on back in January seems to have kicked in; I'm less short of breath with activity. A cardiologist ordered an echo and 24 hour heart monitor (both results still pending) but was able to explain the seemingly unexplainable test I had last August. Short version: it seems that I have some new abnormality with my vasculature in which the vessels don't dilate as they should when I exercise, causing my blood pressure to skyrocket. This, in turn, puts pressure on my heart, which is pumping against abnormally high resistance and causes the left ventricular dysfunction (cardiomyopathy). In addition, the vessels between the heart and lungs have a much higher than normal pressure when I exercise, also known as exercise induced pulmonary hypertension - EIPH for short. Now it all makes sense and I feel that there is a good team of docs in place who are able to treat these interrelated issues. Unfortunately, no one specialist covers all 3 things so there is a pulmonologist to treat the lung disease, one to treat the pulmonary hypertension and then a cardiologist to treat the systemic hypertension and cardiomyopathy. Bring them on, the more the merrier, I say.

The good news is that 2 weeks after discharge, I'm able to exercise closer to my previous baseline than I had been in the past 6 months. There has been an enormous amount of deconditioning which will take months to recover, but at least I have the energy and ability to do it now. Weights 4 days a week, yoga once a week and treadmill/walk at least 5 times a week- without fail. Time to get in touch with my inner drill sargent!

Garden

While I was in MGH all the snow melted, something I wouldn't have believed could happen in a 2 week period. Miracles never cease to amaze me. We were treated to several 50-70 degree days in which I was able to clean up about 1/2 the yard's leaves that had been buried all winter. The temps have turned colder this week and we've had flurries several days so no yard work this week; fortunately these things will keep.

I had planted a tray of seeds prior to being admitted and Joe dutifully watered them while I was away; I have broccoli, peppers, eggplant, tomatoes and lettuce to look forward to planting out in a few weeks! He also treated me to a tumbling composter as a welcome home gift- which is now loaded up with the leaves and kitchen scraps from the past 2 weeks. More black gold for the garden, there's never too much of a good thing.

The crocus are very late in blooming this year due to the late departure of all the snow. We actually have snowdrops out now- at least a month later than usual- but no less welcome. I'll take any sign of spring no matter how delayed at this point. Next week is supposed to be a tad warmer (40s) so I'll be sure to get out and photograph what is going on in the gardens. It's good to be back.

Oh Snow!

2011-02-03T07:02:00.003-05:00

I realize I'm no different than the rest of the population in the Northeast, save those who have escaped to warmer climates, but the weekly snowstorms have become a tad tiresome. It is, however, a good opportunity to be Zen about it and accept whatever comes our way with equanimity. Still working on that one!

Processing

2011-02-01T07:24:00.003-05:00

As my grandmother used to say when we were looking for something and finally found it: "it's always in the last place you look!" It didn't dawn on me until I was an adult that her statement was in jest: I just thought it was funny that it was true- you always found something in the last place you looked- what a coincidence!

Such was the situation with figuring out the somewhat confusing results of the Level 3 Baird test I had last August. After seeing several different specialists to interpret the results, all of whom said they really couldn't make heads nor tails of it, I finally found someone who told me that it made perfect sense to them. And yes, there is a diagnosis!

After my initial response of relief and and happiness that *finally* there is an answer; a name for this, and treatments, the reality started to sink in and I felt my spirits settling into a funk. Another serious, chronic illness to contend with. It's true that even with CF there are new symptoms from time to time and things I haven't yet dealt with, but for the most part, it's something I'm very familiar with. I have a lot of learning to do in order to bring myself up to speed with this latest issue.

I have a mild case of pulmonary hypertension, also known as exercise induced PH. The reason that none of the other specialists were able to figure this out is because it's rare and a very small specialty. Most physicians, even pulmonary and cardiac specialists, aren't familiar with it. Only a PH specialist would be able to interpret the results and make the diagnosis. So there is is, at least we finally know what it is and it can be treated.

I asked if this is secondary to the CF lung disease or a separate entity altogether and the answer was: "It's difficult to know". Obviously, the lungs and heart as well as the major vessels that oxygenate the blood are all very closely connected and what affects one part of the system will affect the others. However, this doesn't appear to be as a result of CF, but more something that is occurring in conjunction with it. Will it get worse? There isn't an answer for that either. Some literature indicates that exercise induced PH is an early or mild form of PH, but Dr C said his opinion was, after having treated patients with this for 20 years, that it is a milder form and may never get any worse. No guarantees, of course.

The treatments are oxygen and some oral, inhaled and IV drugs. At the moment I'm only requiring O2 with exercise so am doing all I can on that front already. There is a drug, sildenafil, which helps some patients to feel better and lessen the symptoms of fatigue and shortness of breath - more commonly known as Viagra- which they are going to try me on. As the NP said, I don't really want to know how it was discovered that Viagra helps patients with PH, but there is clearly potential for a very funny story there. Drug companies being the considerate entities that they are, the brand name has been changed to Revatia when used for PH. Thank goodness I don't have to walk into CVS to hear them announce: "Your Viagra 'script is ready!". At least there is that.

The PH clinic nurse has pointed me to the PHA, which has a very helpful website with lots of teaching materials and information for the newly diagnosed. With the snowstorm which is coming for this week it looks like I'll have plenty of time indoors to get myself up to speed. I'm fortunate that chronic illness isn't something foreign to me, but as with anything new, it's going to take some adjustment and a bit of time for me to come to terms with this latest bit of information.

Under Construction

2011-01-28T07:31:00.005-05:00

And now for some photos of the progress. It has been 9 days since the bathroom was demolished and although it doesn't look like much has been done, there have been plumbers, electricians and carpenters here all day every weekday.

This wall, where the shower used to be on the right and the pedestal sink on the left will be the home of the new 4' vanity and linen tower.

Cats do NOT like construction. Or any disruption in their home or routine, for that matter.

Millie checks out the new shower base.

This wall seems solid and plumb. Excellent for scratching!

Shower valve.

Caution: no shower here yet.

This is where the new dual-flush toilet will go. For those who are not familiar- a smaller amount of water is used for liquid waste and..... well, you get the idea. There is going to be a storage cabinet above the toilet in the eave space and the shower is to the right.

This last photo was 2 storms ago. You get the idea.

Groundhog Day

2011-01-27T07:07:00.004-05:00

Today we receive another 10 inches of snow, this winter I could probably copy and paste my last post each week and it would be true. I was never able to watch the entire Bill Murray movie Groundhog Daybecause I found it entirely too annoying to watch them repeating the same day over and over. I realize I was missing the "bigger message" of the movie, but there it is. And now, in a way I don't need to watch it; although the plot differs, we're living it out this winter.

Each week has provided its own significant snowfall. I've actually lost track if we are on our 3rd or 4th blizzard. Does it really matter? We've run out of places to put the snow and this year I do think that plow drivers are intrinsically evil people. I'm convinced they wait around the corner to see when we finish shoveling or snow-blowing before coming down the street again and dumping a fresh mountain at the end of the driveway. On the news they said one town actually has police escorts for the plow drivers to protect them from irate homeowners. Imagine!

On a brighter note, the upstairs bathroom is progressing well. I have to hand it to the workmen; they show up and work despite the weather.

This is the bathroom before the demolition started:

Love the knotty pine!

Joe's closet on the left and the catch-all closet on the right. Ripping this area out will give us much more space in the bathroom.

View from in the closet. Toilet at the left, small pedestal sink and the is shower on the right.

Our little shower - 32x34". The new one is going to feel so spacious!!! No more bruised elbows.

This is the view into the bathroom from the hallway. The old shower is behind the wall on the right. It has always been impossible to have more than one person in the room at one time due to the layout. Now it will be that much bigger and easier to share the space. I'm a bit sad to see the wallpaper go, it's a Waverly print that I got on sale because it had been discontinued (just before my 30th birthday.... yep, it's been up for 16 years!) I love the colors and pattern as much as I did the day we put it up, but I know saying goodbye to it will be totally worth it.

Snow Job

2011-01-14T08:19:00.003-05:00

After the Wednesday blizzard it seemed almost miraculous that Thursday dawned sunny and blindingly bright after the previous day's darkness and storm. I couldn't resist taking a walk with my camera before the roads got too busy.

I love the way the house looks covered in snow, so cozy and charming.

The sun shining through a snow-covered tree.

The big oak in front of our house was creaking and groaning with the coating of ice and snow. I will neither confirm nor deny the fact that I got nailed - not once but twice!- with falling snow while snapping photos. Some opportunities are just too good to pass up.

Day Off

2011-01-02T09:52:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I did something rare, self-indulgent and bad for me: I skipped both morning and evening treatments. (I did take a 1-1/2 mile walk, which was basically the only "good-for-me" thing I did all day.) What a treat! I probably should have used the time constructively, to accomplish some great task, but instead the it was used to completely sack out on the couch watching a Mad Men marathon. Say that 10 times fast!

Joe made me promise that it would be the only time I'd skip a treatment all week, which I readily agreed to. From time to time I'll take the evening session off if we have plans or have had an especially busy day, but skipping both morning and evening is as rare as a blue moon, for good reason. Omitting a neb or vest session here or there isn't going to kill me, the same way not brushing your teeth one evening isn't going to cause all your teeth to fall out, but getting into the habit of not brushing isn't a good path to go down. Same with nebs and vesting: one missed treatment does not a habit make, but it is a slippery slope. Aaah, the freedom! For that reason I try to avoid skipping more than 2 per week. Two out of 14 isn't horrible, and that is a worst-case-scenario; ideally I have a 100% compliance rate. Although I probably won't miss 2 in a day for another year, I can look back on the sweet laziness of yesterday until that next time I have a day off.

Pair Four

2011-01-01T08:34:00.000-05:00

This pair is my favorite so far. The yarn is soft, not too stretchy and is a delicious mint color. The lace pattern was a challenge, but once I got the hang of it wasn't difficult. The fit on this pair is the best, also. My only complaint is that the leg part could have been a bit longer; I did have extra yarn but wasn't sure I would have enough to complete the foot if I knit them further up the ankle.

My next pair is going to be in a pink multi-color using the same pattern (lacy days clouds in Knit Socks!) and I will do an extra inch on the leg. The past 2 Christmases were Years of the Slipper; quite possibly the Christmas of 2011 will be the Year of the Sock.

Felted slippers ready to be wrapped as Christmas gifts.

Not Just One Fork

2010-12-31T08:19:00.003-05:00

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Life grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go" - Green Day

On this last day of 2010 it's fun to reflect upon the past year and there is always the temptation to put a label on it as if we were able to qualify it as good or bad. There are good events and bad events; scary, satisfying and joyful events, all of which make up each moment, day, month and year in our lives. How can anyone term a moment, month or year "bad" or "good"? Each moment simply is.

We are offered many amazing opportunities on a day to day basis and I am incredibly lucky to be able to take advantage of so much life has to offer. Everyone has limitations; some are mental, others physical, monetary or time-based. The trick is to learn how to work around the things that limit us and capitalize on the areas we are able to explore. I may not be capable of being as active as I would like to be, but I'm dedicating this next phase in my life to using my mind (what there is of it!) in different ways.

What to do? Learn another language? Study an interesting subject? At times I'm so overwhelmed with the possibilities I feel a bit paralyzed; there is an endless display of forks laid out before me and I'd like to go down each one. Maybe the biggest challenge for me is to choose which avenues to pursue and which to bypass, and not my physical limitations, after all.

Stretching

2010-12-30T08:23:00.002-05:00

The first time my grandmother R held Wilson when he was but a week or so old she commented on the way he stretched as he slept, arched back and squirming: "that's how they grow", she said. I've always remembered that moment and her wisdom. I'm not sure if that really is how babies grow, by stretching, but it's a piece of old-time wisdom that makes much sense. How else to explain the miracle that is life, growth and change?

Even when we are finished physically growing, we can still stretch ourselves in order to grow. Having new experiences, trying new things, going out of our comfort zone and learning. Sometimes it is uncomfortable, for me anyway. How much easier it is to stick to the old, familiar, tried and true path. Yet there is something inside that prompts me to want to learn new things, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me. There is frustration at not mastering something immediately; it would be much easier to do something the way I've always done it. Yet the challenge beckons.

I've found it best for me to acknowledge the discomfort and frustration and push through it. Eventually, with practice, whatever it is I'm trying to master becomes easier and more familiar. The key is not to avoid new things because of the sensations they bring up. If I was to make a New Year's resolution, that would be it.

May 2011 be a year of stretching beyond old levels of comfort and full of new and exciting experiences.

Socks Appeal

2010-11-28T08:00:00.002-05:00

The second pair of socks, which I'll hopefully finish up this weekend. I love the self-patterning yarn, it keeps things interesting because the pattern unfolds as I knit, I never really know what a given section is going to look like.

Yarn: Schoeller Stahl self-patterning sock yarn. Pattern: Classy slip-up on size 0 needles.

Giving Thanks

2010-11-27T08:13:00.005-05:00

The Before....

Table set, flowers arranged, food prepared, waiting on the turkey to finish up and family to arrive.

And The After:

Great food contributed by everyone and nuclear family: Mom, Dad, Wilson, Joe, Scott, Carrie and Day. Thankfulness all in one room!

Reprieve

2010-11-25T08:42:00.002-05:00

Everyone deserves a special treat on Thanksgiving, even Baby, the late-season squirrel pup who has cleverly figured out how to hop on to my "squirrel-proof" bird feeder. Normally I'd chase him off and re-apply the butter I put on top to deter him, but today he will be allowed to stuff himself like the rest of us.

Enjoy, Baby, for tomorrow you will be relegated to scrounging on the ground, like the rest of your kind!

The Importance of Being Earnest

2010-11-23T08:34:00.003-05:00

As someone who is old enough to remember days before the internet and online communication, it's interesting to think about how dramatically things have changed. We now have access to each other 24/7; we can see what friends are doing at any given moment on FB or Twitter; research a topic at any hour of the day or night and get up-to-the-minute information on our bank accounts and stocks. We are able to look up friends we've lost touch with, find others who share similar interests and meet people from across the globe. The world is at our fingertips.

Written communication is now the norm. No longer do we need to sit down, put a pen to paper and drop it in the USPS mailbox. We don't even need to pick up the phone and speak directly to a person: for a short communication a text will suffice and letters have been replaced by emails.

With this ease of communication comes a host of problems. When things are put into writing much of the context is lost: there is no face-to-face interaction which gives a large part of meaning to the words that are said. Something that might obviously be a joke when told in person could come across as a nasty remark without the hand and facial gestures that would have accompanied a verbal exchange. Misinterpretation is easy when reading others' comments.

Another tendency is to put everything out there: every emotion, feeling, interaction. What used to be saved for a personal journal with an individual's most innermost and private thoughts is now published on the web for all to see. Is this healthy? Who's knows? I do think that because we're typing into a computer and not having a conversation and looking into another's eyes we tend to overshare and say things that might otherwise be saved for a private personal conversation.

I've also noticed that we don't hesitate to put into writing things we would never say to someone in a face-to-face conversation. It's much easier to be blunt and honest to the point of rudeness when you're not looking at the person you are "talking" to. Perhaps it's just because I am of the generation that is accustomed to communication prior to the internet that my skin is a bit thinner than those who grew up with this technology. It could be that in another 20 years everyone will be telling each other "like it is" and nobody will think much of it, and I just need to evolve with the times.

Personally, I'm going to try to make it a point to not say anything over the internet that I wouldn't say to someone in a face-to-face conversation. Call me old fashioned but I'd rather not have every detail of my life flapping in the wind for all to see, nor would I like to be someone who is blunt and inconsiderate of people's feelings by telling them things about themselves that they probably won't acknowledge anyway. Walking away is still a good option, even if it's a virtual walk-away by clicking the "close" button.

New Skill Set

2010-11-11T07:14:00.004-05:00

I'm proud of my mom; she's someone who has, for the larger part of her life, not had any medical issues. I think she has done amazingly well in mastering the skill of how to navigate the medical system under challenging circumstances.

My parents are part of the generation which saw their own parents live out their lives only visiting a doctor if there was a dire issue: Broken bones, surgeries or a catastrophic illness. Most things either resolved on their own or the person died, simple as that. No routine screenings for colon cancer, no yearly pap smears or mammograms. It's no wonder the medical system can be difficult to navigate- many illnesses, tests and reasons to visit the doctor have come into being only in the past 40-50 years. My parents' generation has had no modeling for this aspect of their lives and are now having to set precedence for the rest of us.

Just knowing when to call the doctor is a challenge. What symptoms are concerning? What is normal, what's not? How does one find the best care for their particular situation? What makes a good doctor and how does a patient find one? None of this is taught to us and, unfortunately, it isn't something that comes naturally to most people.

Medicine is 75% science and 25% art, in my opinion. It's more than just looking at lab values, numbers, test results. It takes some creativity to weave all the information together with the information gleaned from the patient: how they are feeling, how their illness affects them, treatments that are going to fit in with their life. It's not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. Two people may have the exact same diagnosis, but with very different presentations and treatment plans.

Over the past few years my mom has faced an increasing number of medical issues, which she has handled with grace and good humor. She's a medical challenge requiring numerous experts and specialists, all of whom really need to work together since one change in medication can cause disastrous results. The learning curve has been steep- it's not easy to go from a healthy, active person to someone who needs to see a number of doctors, sometimes on a weekly basis.

I'm so happy she has a good care team in place, with most of her doctors at one facility, which both my parents are truly impressed with. Cooperation seems to be the key there, and an effort is made to accommodate the patient. For example, if tests are ordered they are scheduled at the time of other appointments, saving the patient a trip back in.

It's never easy navigating a change in circumstances, especially in terms of health, but I feel confident that my mom is in very good hands and can add that she is a top-notch patient. Definitely one of the more challenging aspects of life to master!

Acupuncture Part Deux

2010-11-09T07:08:00.003-05:00

The acupuncturist I see is located in the town next to mine, on a dead-end, narrow street in a home from the 1860s. Parking is non-existent so cars must be left on the street prior to turning onto the short road. As I walked down the street I saw 2 men standing outside the acupuncturist's home; one was holding a dog on a leash. I smiled as I approached and said hello.

The older of the 2 men asked why I was smiling and if I was there to be massaged or poked. Poked. He asked why. Did it help? Why was I going? In the past I might have felt put on the spot or even tongue-tied, but I honestly didn't mind his questions. I told him being poked was something I was open to and I wanted a complement to traditional medicine. Yes, I thought it did help. This was my second appointment and I probably wouldn't have come back if I didn't think I was going to benefit. He made some joke about needles being placed in my face to make me smile and I said "who knows?" as I knocked and entered into the office.

Office sounds like too formal of a word, though. The entryway is more like a comfortable foyer with nice scents, soft music and 2 low chairs. Shoes are taken off. Tammy led me into a second treatment room, this one different but just as lovely as the one I was in last time. We discussed how I have been feeling since my first session. I gave her a list of my medications, something I had forgotten last time. We reviewed them together; she asked quite a few questions and explained my medical problems from an Eastern perspective.

The table was just as inviting and comfortable as the one in the other room. Needles were first placed on the back side of my body and left for 20 minutes. About half way through the time I felt an urge to lower my shoulders, a very natural feeling. I was in a deeply relaxed state and hovered just above sleep while remaining aware of my breath and the music.

Flip over and then the front with another 20 minute rest. This time I felt a clear sensation of my sinuses opening up. Very cool! I hadn't been having any pain or pressure but they felt much more open, as if there was a lot more air moving through them. There was some post-nasal drip following this sensation.

At the end of the session I was again left with a sense of peace and well-being. I'm not sure whether it's simply the amount of time gone by that has helped my acceptance of the new medical issues or if the acupuncture is somehow contributing. I'm just happy I feel more at peace with things. Tammy mentioned she feels that I'm following my true path and that the universe wants me to be around for a good while. Now that is a diagnosis I like!

My next appointment will be in 3 weeks because of the Thanksgiving holiday and already I'm looking forward to it.

Unchartered Territory

2010-10-31T09:04:00.005-04:00

You're never too old to feel left out apparently- it's not just for awkward middle school moments! As a rule I don't usually feel like an outsider when amongst my friends, but lately I'm more aware of the rift. I'm not one to bring up medical issues unless asked, assuming that unless there is some invitation to share that people would rather not hear about it. That is just my style and I'm not about to change things at this stage in the game. Anyone who knows me well understands this, I figure.

I truly understand that it isn't always about me. Just because I have serious medical issues that nearly always trump whatever others have going on, doesn't mean that my problems are worse, per se. I'm empathetic (I hope!) and try never to say "oh yeah, you think that's bad? listen to this!" In all honesty, I'd much rather listen to friends' problems which I consider much more interesting my own. That being said, I am somewhat sensitive to the fact that there is frequently no inquiry into my health, what is going on for me even a "how are you feeling today?"

I've reached a point in my life where I'm not able to easily participate in many of the activities that others in my social circle find fun. It's more difficult to get around with the O2. I can't be as active and my energy is lower. I need to avoid smoke. I'm ready to go to sleep when, by most people's standards, the evening is just getting interesting.

So what's the answer? I don't want friends to have to alter plans in order to include me. Why should their social lives and fun be penalized because I can't keep up? So do I politely smile and say "no thanks" when invited, or would I rather that they didn't mention activities I can't be involved in at all? Not sure. It's easy for me to see that isolation and pulling away is the path of least resistance, being around others who can understand first hand what this feels like is much easier and more comfortable. I know many people who wrestle with this issue and have yet to come across a good answer to the question.

As with most things, a work in progress. Here ends my mental dump and sort.

Porcupine

2010-10-28T07:31:00.003-04:00

From time to time I've considered acupuncture in the past, even making an appointment with a practitioner in Salem who came highly recommended. After having a brief chat with her on the phone I realized I didn't feel completely comfortable with her and I called back to cancel, never going through with it.

I was given the name of another practitioner by a trusted health care provider and this person sounded much more up my alley. I felt comfortable when we spoke on the phone and took a last minute cancellation opening (must be my week for that!) yesterday.

This acupuncturist has a MS in Oriental Medicine and has years of experience. A fluffy dog and petite kitty greeted me as I walked in the door. Oh yes, this feels right, nothing like animals to make me feel comfortable. She asked me question after question, wanting to understand my complex medical history as well as my home life, personality, beliefs and body. She explained how the acupuncture session would go and we got started.

The space was truly lovely and the first word that comes to mind is serene. Painted a soft spring green, the room was perfectly square with an open cupola in the ceiling with a window on each of the 4 sides. There were full length windows on 2 sides of the room with opaque shades which allowed privacy with lots of soft, natural light. A wind chime produced soft music from outside in the background of my favorite chanting CD, Eternal Om. The wall which provided backdrop for an Asian cabinet covered with Buddhist artifacts also had a large painting of a field of flowers in soft whites and blues. I could have stared at it for hours.

The table was similar to a massage table but had a warming pad on it and was like the most comfortable of beds: soft and cozy while still being supportive. I had needles placed in my legs, arms and back and some acupressure done on my shoulders, which made my legs extremely jumpy. This, she explained, was old wind leaving my body. Anybody who knows my sense of humor will envision how difficult it was for me not to make a play on words with that, but I restrained myself.

Half way through the session I was turned over and the process was repeated on the front of my body, face (!) and ears. The needles didn't hurt, but there was a slight sensation of tingling as they were inserted. She left the room for the last 15 minutes, allowing me to relax. From time to time I would become aware of a sensation of warmth or tingling in one or another of the needles, but for the most part I was completely unaware that they were there. After they were removed I was left with a feeling of peacefulness and deep relaxation.

Today, though I'm anxious to feel something - anything- different, I don't notice anything. We agreed to connect by phone to see how I felt and set up a treatment plan if I decide to continue. I didn't expect to wake up feeling cured of all my ills today, wanting to try this as a complement to my current treatment regime and medications. I'm interested in continuing to see if there is any benefit, even if it's just psychological. I figure at this point in my life, I can use all the help I can get! I'll continue to document future sessions as objectively as possible in order to mark my progress.

Cardio Workout

2010-10-26T17:23:00.002-04:00

Today was my appointment with the cardiologist for a second opinion. What a long, strange trip this has been- starting last April when I failed a 6 minute walk test and was started on oxygen. The first cardiologist, Dr. P, interpreted the results of the level 3 Baird test completely differently than my pulmonologist. In fact, I preferred his interpretation: you're fine, just out of shape, that's why you are so short of breath. Try taking a baby aspirin each day and come back to see me in a couple years.

Whoa! Very different than what I was told by my CF doc: you have exercise-induced pulmonary artery hypertension as well as left ventricular failure. Easy to see why Dr P's diagnosis was preferable, no?

After hours of online research and asking questions of basically every medical professional I came across, I had the name of another cardiologist: Dr S. who runs the heart failure and transplant clinic at MGH. He conducted a study involving the level 3 Baird and cystic fibrosis patients several years ago which was published in the medical journal Chest. The down side is that he is extremely busy and difficult to get an appointment with. Needless to say, his secretary and I are now on a first name basis; I called at least once a week to try to get into a cancelled appointment slot. My persistence paid off and I snatched up today's opening.

Basically, he said he didn't have a clear picture of what is going on with me. I've stumped the best of the best! He was concerned about my blood pressure, especially when I exercise, when it topped out at 210/112, much higher than a normal person's. The pressure in my pulmonary capillaries is much higher than normal as well, 50, when it should be around 12. As if this wasn't enough, my left ventricle doesn't pump or relax properly and this in turn affects the right ventricle. Cardiomyopathy or heart failure. Oh, and a small PFO.

However, despite all the cardiac abnormalities, he doesn't think my shortness of breath is heart related; if it was, I wouldn't feel better using the oxygen. Not only do I feel better, but my O2 saturation is much higher when I use the oxygen. He's going to need to confer with my pulmonologist in order to discuss this and come up with a plan.

As frustrating as it is not to have a definite cause for what is going on at least I feel that I have the very best minds working together to figure it out. I suppose in the end it doesn't really matter whether the root cause is cardiac or pulmonary; my personal theory is that it is a combination of the two. In the meantime, I'll continue to use the oxygen for activity; I'll keep up with exercise, and (this is going to the the tough part!) cut down on my salt intake. I'll wait to hear back about anti-hypertensives and just keep on keepin' on.

Sock it to Me

2010-10-24T17:52:00.003-04:00

Technically, 2010 has been the year of the slipper. Although I started in 12/09, I went a bit slipper-happy and made some 10 pairs of felted slippers, thus completely wearing out the fun in that particular pattern.

My goal for 2011 was going to be to learn to knit socks. I've always fancied handmade socks and since I mostly wear clogs, exposing my own, I thought it might be a fun thing to learn. Joe bought me a book on sock knitting and I ordered a bit of yarn. I was ready to go.

Then came the surprise middle-of-the-night admission. Whoa! Nothing was packed, no bag of things to keep me busy and sane. Once again, Joe to the rescue: he brought in my new book and the yarn and I went to town. Since I was only in for a week, I didn't finish the first pair I started, but I did one sock and 2/3 of the second. I finished them up during Sunday afternoon football and now Joe's piggies will be super-cozy. Amazing! They actually look like real socks!

Pattern: simple ribs with 1 skein Northampton jade size 2 needles.

Like a Hole in the Head

2010-10-23T16:05:00.003-04:00

While walking by a garage sale today on the way to the post office we saw an old portable Singer sewing machine in excellent condition. The lady running the sale was friendly and I remarked how nice her machine was; she proceeded to tell me a bit about it and said she was asking $20, even offering to let me plug it in and try it out. Ah, that's ok, I have one already, I was just admiring. As we walked away, Joe whispered, "would you like it?"

It took me about 2 seconds. I thought it might be nice to have a case that is in perfect condition. Even after refinishing mine, there is still a large break in the domed case that I wasn't able to repair. I could refinish this one and swap out the machines. We walked back and paid for the machine, which we would pick up on our way home from the post office. It weighs 35 lbs.

Once home I tried out the machine and was instantly enamored: the bobbin is quite different than any other machine I've owned, a tiny shuttle. Unfortunately, it wouldn't sew, something in the mechanism was sticking and wouldn't allow the needle to complete its up and down cycle. A partial dis-assembly, some 3-in-1 oil, and a bit of tinkering with the upper and lower tensions and it sews like a dream. It's not as pretty as the 1924 model, a bit more utilitarian- without the gold scroll-work and fancy embossed plates- but a good, old machine nonetheless. A quick check on the serial number tells me it was made in 1951 in Elizabethport, NJ.

I took the machine out of the case and started in on refinishing the case; after the linseed oil/turps/stain dries I'll do the 3 coats of urethane. I needed this like a I need a hole in the head, but I have to say I really love the new machine. How could I not after Joe lugged it the 3 blocks home?

Fixed up

2010-09-28T07:05:00.003-04:00

This was definitely one of the most rewarding refinishes I've done to date. Although on the back of the domed case there is a broken area the rest of it came out beautifully. I'm not sure what type of wood the base is- the top is just a veneer but it did develop a nice rich color when treated with a bit of linseed oil.

The machine needed a couple parts to be functional and fortunately I was able to find a 1927 model 99 on Ebay. Once they were installed I took the machine for a test drive and was completely amazed that it sewed perfectly: no tension issues, just perfect, evenly spaced stitches. I was anticipating the need to bring it to a repair shop to work out any issues but evidently that isn't going to be necessary.

Talk about being built to last!

Fixer-upper

2010-09-17T05:19:00.003-04:00

Although I have a beautiful, state of the art, sewing machine that Joe gave me for my 40th birthday, I've been coveting an old Singer for some time. I've been keeping my eyes open at garage sales and flea markets for a Featherweight: a small, portable Singer that is a functional and durable antique, as well as a collector's item.

Along came a Freecycle posting offering up an old Singer. I responded, never expecting to be the first one, as most people receive updates to their cell phones and put their dibs in on good items quickly. Nevertheless, I was the first one and promptly drove to Lynn to pick up this old machine. The case is a bit banged up it will need rewiring. Otherwise, it is missing the knee lever that makes it go and the bobbin plate. No matter, I'm was still thrilled! This is my equivalent of an old car that needs to be fixed up. A labor of love.

After a bit of research online, I discovered it is from 1924, a model 99, one of which only 15,000 were made. Not a Featherweight, but the next best thing. It is portable and still functional but will need a knee lever and eventually new wires. I picked up a spare machine for parts on ebay and voila! She runs beautifully, even after 90 years.

I'm not intending to cast aside my beautiful Janome, which I love to sew with. It does everything I need it to do, and more. Technology has advanced to the point that I could never do any repairs on it, other than to remove the lint that accumulates around the bobbin. It's computerized and this Singer is more of a toy that I can play with. I can take it apart, see how it works, put it back together and it is no worse for the wear. No computer parts here!

Freeze Frame

2010-09-06T20:01:00.000-04:00

Joe's weekend project, which turned out to be a much bigger deal than I anticipated, was to build me a cold frame for the garden. Hopefully I'll be able to put my seeds out much earlier next spring since they'll be protected. The top opens and can be propped up to allow for ventilation on warm days.

The best part of this project is that it is made from 100% scrap wood and repurposed objects. The windows were from our living room. The hinges from 2 doors we had removed and the rest was scrap lumber Joe had been saving. No longer am I allowed to be critical of his saving every little thing! Apparently, I just need to give him more projects in order to put his hoarded items to good use. Thanks, Honey!

Miscellany

2010-09-05T16:08:00.002-04:00

Dahlia from the garden. They seem much happier now that the heat wave is over. I know just how they feel.

Faux stone trough that I planted this morning with some sedum and hen-and-chicks. Faux is such an awesome word; who else but the French could think up such a classy way to say "fake"?

Little Miss Muffet

2010-09-05T15:54:00.002-04:00

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet

eating her curds and whey,

when along came a spider

who sat down beside her

and frightened Miss Muffet away!

Role reversal! As I was snapping a few photos of this big spider I accidentally nudged her web and she was the one frightened away. She hid, ironically enough, under the "welcome friends" sign we have on the back deck.

I wish the camera was able to capture her intricate web, it was huge and perfect. Sadly, the winds of tropical storm Earl demolished it and it appears Ms. Spider has moved on. She was in a great spot, bugs are always flying into that window.

PFO No Go

2010-09-03T06:46:00.003-04:00

After enduring one of the most torturous tests ever invented by a sadistic doctor, I got a call with Dr P's opinion yesterday. The cardiac nurse said that the results aren't finalized, but since the he is going to be away for 10 days she didn't want to leave me hanging. Based on the preliminary results, he feels it would not have any benefit to repair my PFO. Disappointing, definitely, but I'll wait for the final results before totally bumming out. In the meantime, I'll call the pulmonary folks and get some more details.

So, it seems like R2D2 and my portable tanks are here to stay. I wonder if I can mosaic the O2 concentrator?

Backlogged

2010-09-02T09:36:00.006-04:00

I have had so many topics floating around in my head for the past couple weeks, but not the desire to sit down and actually write about any of them.

This photo is from our trip to Rangeley, some black and blueberry muffins we had one morning. Being fairly late in the season there were but a few blueberries, but oh! the blackberries. Combined they made a wonderful muffin. Nothing beat

s sitting at the counter, looking out the window with a steaming mug of coffee and a hot-from-the-oven muffin.

It just doesn't get much better than that!

BCE

2010-08-24T17:22:00.003-04:00

BCE or Before Cat Era there was Dog Era. We had 2 during my growing-up years, both of which were poodles. My parents never liked cats; they walked on the cars in the driveway and left paw prints in addition to hiding under the shrubs next to the bird feeders. My only exposure to the neighbor's cat ended with a scratch when I decided to help kitty into my wading pool. How was I to know cats didn't like water?

Shortly after setting out on my own, with an apartment and nobody but myself to consider, I came across a small kitten after work one evening in the middle of Chinatown. It scurried across the street and under a pile of boxes at the side of the road, waiting for trash day. Concerned it might be injured, I stopped to check that it was alright. Although I knew nothing about kittens, this one appeared to be rather young; no momma cat in sight. Ah, well, certainly it didn't belong to anybody, else it wouldn't be out at 1 am unsupervised. I'll just bring it home and drop it at the shelter in the morning so it can find a good home. The 7-11 was still open and I picked up a litter pan and some food to make sure kitty was taken care of until I could get to the shelter. I set her up in the bathroom with food, water and her own toilet and went to bed.

The next morning I could hear her mewing behind the bathroom door. She had curled up in the sink and gone to sleep but now she was ready to get out and explore her surroundings. So cute! How could I bring her to the shelter? I made the somewhat impulsive but never regretted decision to adopt this little stray. Her name was officially Tyler, after the street she was found on, but for her entire life, she was really just called Miss Kitty.

A quick trip to the vet revealed that Kitty was a She, about 6 weeks old and in seemingly good health. She had her shots and all the other routine things a cat needs. True, she wasn't the easiest pet to have: slightly feral (though I didn't know enough about cats at the time to realize that) and she never liked to be touched. I probably didn't socialize her enough when she was a kitten, working a crazy schedule and not knowing that cats, like all creatures, need a good bit of attention. Out the window with the myth that cats don't need interaction. True, they can survive without it, but they do much better with plenty of it. Lesson learned.

She moved 3 times with us, first when Joe and I got married, then to a second apartment and finally to our house. Sadly, she didn't live more than a couple years once we had our home, collapsing suddenly at 6 years old of a presumed heart ailment. She was a bit wild and very difficult for any vet to vaccinate, let alone examine, so she never had a proper physical. She had a short, but hopefully happy life with us. Surely, it must have been better than being a feral cat in Chinatown?

Once I got to know a cat on an intimate level I realized how complex and interesting they are. How affectionate, intelligent and personable. Yes, each one has a very unique personality. Shocking! More wary than dogs, it's hard for a casual observer to discern a cat's uniqueness.

After Miss Kitty's untimely demise Wilson and I made a trip to the shelter and adopted 2 adult cats, Benji and Charlotte. A year and a half later, a third joined the ranks when we brought Gomer home. Joe's only stipulation to the adoption was that the name given him at the shelter remain intact. The shelter was right-on, Gomer turned out to be a lovable, goofy, affectionate cat.

Benji was a gray long haired boy who was an alpha cat if there is such a thing. He had no tolerance for any other felines trespassing in his territory. He had a particularly scrappy summer when a white Tom moved in down the street. Numerous trips to the vet were required to repair his constantly injured ear; he didn't seem to come out on top of these fights and would pursue White Tom down the street if he caught a glimpse of him. Thankfully, Tom disappeared as suddenly as he arrived, but his memory remained in Benji's thereafter deformed ear.

Charlotte was a true lady. She loved being carried around the yard as I checked on the gardens. She'd sit contentedly in my arms and survey with me. She slept with me at night and had the loudest purr of any cat we've had to date. Both she and Benji were lap cats and would settle down with us in the evenings to watch television. Sadly, both are gone now, but they lived into ripe old age, for cats anyway. Benji was around 15 and Charlotte 18-ish. They are now resting in their favorite spots in the yard. Benji under the burning bush and Charlotte under the bench she used to love to sit on.

The girls, as we call them, came into the house as 8 week old kittens. Much wiser and with more time available, I was able to spend plenty of hours playing with Millie and Gracie during their formative youths. The effort paid off in that they are delightful, sweet, very social and love to be petted or played with.

Millie, it turns out, is the more adventurous of the two. She has been known to sneak outside if the opportunity presents. She's a terrific fly catcher, able to grab one in just a paw and eat it up with one swift motion. She will visit at night but won't sleep with us, preferring to come for some scratching and a snooze, then returning to play downstairs with Gracie.

Neither will sit on our laps on the couch in the evening, no amount of cajoling will entice them.

Gracie will, however, sit on my lap while I do my morning and evening treatments. She has a certain way she likes to be petted (right hand only on her head, left hand cradling her two back feet as she lies on her side or back). Any deviation from this preferred method results in getting kicked with 2 hind legs. I may not be brilliant, but I do catch on after a bit. Sometimes I wonder who is training whom?

Dirty, Pretty Things

2010-08-10T07:14:00.004-04:00

The last time it rained enough that the garden didn't require hand watering was probably back in June, so the daily routine has been: cup of coffee, water and weed the garden, then pick whatever is ready to be harvested. Saturday it was our first eggplant. Last week there were the first cherry tomatoes and cucumbers. Today there are carrots!

The routine takes anywhere between 15-40 minutes, depending upon how much maintenance is needed. Admittedly, I enjoy lingering; seeing what has grown since the previous day and admiring the fruits (well, veggies) of my labor. Even on the most uncomfortable, humid days it's still a pleasure.

I Need A Spoon-full of Sugar

2010-07-28T07:51:00.004-04:00

Although I hate to dwell on medical issues they are an inescapable part of my life, so I will include an update here. Just the facts, please, ma'am.

Let's see, where was I? Oh yes, the echocardiogram results of a PFO back in June. After consulting with a cardiac surgeon last week (the head of the department, I might add) it was determined that I could skip the lengthy and involved approval process for PFO closure because of my CF and hypoxia (low oxygen levels). Skip to the head of the class. The only drawback being that I would need one or possibly two additional medical procedures prior to being able to have the PFO repaired.

Medical test number one: TEE or trans-esophageal echocardiogram. Basically the same test I had back in June, but a bit more detailed than the previous echocardiogram. For this one they need to do the ultrasound from within your esophagus, which gives a much better picture of the heart structures. Sedation is used as most people tend to not enjoy having an ultrasound scope inserted down their throat, and because of my history of CF I'd need to have general anesthesia in case of the need for a quick intubation. They'd give me light anesthesia so I'd still be breathing on my own, but were ready to step in should there be any difficulties. Ready, set, probe!

The test was actually quite simple, I had a nice sleep and woke up feeling not too much worse for the wear, only a slight sore throat and fuzzy feeling in my head. I actually found it easier to recover from than the sedation they usually use for such procedures. The results came in yesterday and indeed, it is a PFO with a trace amount of blood shunting from one atrium to the other. Next stop: cardiac cath/pulmonary lab to verify how much of a shunt there is on exercise to see if that is the cause for my hypoxia. If it is, then the PFO will be closed. If not, they won't fix it and we'll need to do a bit more medical detective work.

Apparently the Level III Baird test is so popular there is a 3 month wait time to have it done. A date should be confirmed today and I'll be put on the waiting list in case there are any cancellations. Part of me wants to have it over with and the other part would like to put this off as long as possible.

Cardiac catheterization is a procedure where a small incision is made either in the groin or above another large vein and a catheter introduced up and into the right side of the heart. During the level III baird test, not only is there a cardiac catheterization, but also arterial monitoring of the blood to detect oxygen levels, usually done in the radial (wrist) artery. Neither of these aspects of the test sound like much fun to me, but the icing on the cake is that the patient is required to exercise while all this is going on. I would like to wish the physician and other staff the best of luck in advance for this one.

After the results are in from that I'll have a much better idea of the plan. If there is significant shunting from the right to left atrium causing less blood to pass through the lungs then they will go for the repair. There's a part of me that is wondering if all this is worth it. Using the oxygen isn't that bad... sure, it's inconvenient but I'm much more used to the odd looks people give me. Is it really worth going through all these unpleasant tests without a guarantee that this is the cause of my low oxygen saturation? I suppose it is, but I can't pretend I won't be disappointed if the level III baird doesn't yield some helpful information. Being poked, prodded and probed has to have some benefit, doesn't it?

Shell of my Former Self

2010-07-16T07:26:00.006-04:00

While watering the eggplants earlier this week I discovered a very strange looking insect on the underside of one of the leaves. Ok, I admit it: I squealed like a schoolgirl and jumped back. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I had to check it out. I needed to know if this thing was going to be competing with me for the vegetables.

I have no idea what kind of bug it is, but it appears to be a shell. The owner must have shed it (molted?) and has hopefully moved on. Far, far away.

I wasn't able to find the opening in the shell where he/she emerged from, which is a bit puzzling, but it is hollow and there hasn't been any movement in 3 days. Not that I'm checking or anything.

Those pincers look pretty mean.

Edited to add: Thank you, google! It's actually a cicada, or as we used to call them growing up: a "heat bug". Harmless to humans and also gardens, though they can damage trees when boring holes in which to lay their eggs. Apparently, they are eaten in some countries, the female cicada being the more meaty and tasty. Yum, yum.

Broken Dishes

2010-07-10T09:21:00.011-04:00

One of the things I've tried to teach myself this year has been the making of mosaics. I've always liked them and while browsing at Barnes and Noble back in April I found a book on mosaics. Why not give it a shot? I liked that there isn't a big investment required as with some crafts, I didn't want to have to buy a lot of equipment or supplies. After borrowing a neighbor's tile nippers and gathering a few old plates that were used as plant saucers I was ready.

After gaining confidence on small projects I decided to try an old pipe cabinet that had been in our basement for years. Joe picked it up at a yard sale before we got married, so if I ruined it, no huge loss.

I started small, a birdbath here, a clay pot there. It was fun! With

each project I learned what worked and what not to do. Trial and error has always been my best teacher.

I was so happy with how it came out, I painted the cabinet and it brought it up into the house. No more being relegated to the basement! I had an idea I wanted to try for the living room coffee table, something we picked up on Freecycle. Again, no great loss if I ruin it. I sketched out the design I had envisioned and set up a table in the garage. Several trips to the thrift shop to look for old china plates and I had what I needed: several coordinating plates for the central pattern and plain white ones for the filler. Here's the half-way point.

The table took a bit over a week to finish, but I'm very happy with the results. It brightens up the living room, which has mostly darker colors in it. The grout has been sealed, so it should be fairly indestructible. Boys, you can now put your feet up without my shooting you dirty looks! Enjoy.

Heatwave

2010-07-09T07:53:00.004-04:00

I can't even recall the last rain we had, surely back in June, and all 4 of my rain barrels are bone dry. The garden beds are parched, only the things that were planted or moved in the past year have been watered. The vegetables are faithfully watered every day, but everything else is on its own. Crispy is how I would describe the lawn, but experience has taught me that no matter how dead it appears in July and August, as soon as the weather cools and we get some rain it will green up again. Our climate just isn't meant for the lush, green lawns our ancestors in the UK had.

The cucumber plant is hitting its stride, flowers and tiny hairy cukes appear every day. I love the tendrils that grasp the nylon lattice.

The learning curve has been steep for me with the veggies: I've learned that zucchini plants have both male and female flowers, the females being the ones that produce a zucchini. Both types are only open for a matter of hours, and if there is no male flower to pollinate the female, then the zucchini will shrivel up and fall off. Who knew?

There are a few bunches of both sungold orange and red cherry tomatoes in addition to some big beef, whose photo is on the left. The cherries are so sweet I can eat them right off the plant, warmed from the sun. They are also especially good with a nice sharp cheddar cheese on crackers or in a salad. I'm glad the plants are enjoying the heat and relentless sun, someone should!

Charlotte used to love to make the "rounds" with me, checking out what was growing in the yard, safely tucked in my arms. She'd settle right in and purr the entire time, observing her domain from on high. Gomer, on the other hand, prefers to nap in the coolness of the early morning shade on our new deck. Joe's chair is getting a healthy dose of cat hair. Why should the outdoor furniture be exempt?

Independence and Happiness

2010-07-04T08:23:00.005-04:00

As we celebrate our nation's history with fireworks and thoughts of independence I've been thinking a lot about personal independence. Not in the pry-the-gun-from-my-cold-dead-hands, freedom-of-speech-no-matter-the-cost type, but freedom of dependence. It might be freedom from dependence from a drug, alcohol, cigarettes, a bad habit or a person who does you harm. Or, in my case, I'm referring to the ability to be able to take care of myself and produce the things I and my family need. The freedom from dependence on others. Self-sufficiency.

Of course, there is no such thing as being completely independent. I'm no electrician, plumber or carpenter. I can't fix my own car nor can I build a computer. I suppose if I was able to live a simpler life and didn't rely on such amenities as indoor plumbing, electricity and a cell phone I might just be able to do most things myself. I'm not willing to go that far, but it does give me a great deal of joy to be able to do what I can. It's one of the simplest pleasures life has to offer and there is personal satisfaction in knowing that something is homemade.

One of the blogs I routinely read posted about this the other day. Until the 1950s we, as a society, were much more self-sufficient. Of course, things have changed since then: women no longer are at home, in charge of the house and feeding the family. It has become the norm for both adults in a household to be wage-earners. This has left home management unmanned and so for convenience/time/necessity we have turned to purchasing many of the items that 60 years ago were self-produced. It's rare to find someone who cooks from scratch, sews, grows their vegetables, does their own yard and housework. In the past few generation we've lost some of the skills needed to be able to do these things; how long until we're unable because nobody knows how? Interesting to think about. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but we've become dependent upon companies and business to produce and take care of the things that 3 generations ago we did ourselves.

My circumstances are far from usual- early retirement/disability at 32. I've had to figure out what I'm capable of doing and what makes my life happy and fulfilling. Who knew it would be the simplest things of all? Cooking and baking for my family. Taking care of the house and yard. Growing a little bit of what we eat. Making my own less environmentally harmful cleaners. Being able to knit and sew, make jams and give homemade gifts. I have found this is my own personal formula for happiness, and no doubt there as many other formulas as there are people on the planet. We're all different and I'm sure there are many who could no sooner imagine being happy doing what I do than flying to the moon. Perhaps another person's formula would be the ability to be independent from exactly those things that give me the most happiness. That's what makes our country great and what personal freedom and independence are all about.

Happy Independence Day.

Garden Update July 1

2010-07-01T06:55:00.001-04:00

This is the first time I've tried growing dahlias. These are smaller than the 'dinner plate' variety, about 6" in diameter and they are lovely! I'll definitely be planting these again next year.

The tomatoes are growing several inches a day now with plenty of buds. Mmmm, there's nothing like a garden-fresh tomato!

I ate the first few green beans yesterday, there weren't enough for a meal, so I figured I'd just sample to make sure they were ok. And they were.

The peppers and eggplant are enjoying the heat we've had this past week and the sugar snap peas, cukes and zucchini are all beginning to take off. We might even have a strawberry or two if the birds don't beat us to it!

ECHO.....ECHo....ECho.....Echo.......echo

2010-06-30T07:15:00.004-04:00

Good news sometimes comes in strange packages, as in the lesser of two evils. "Hey Dad, I crashed the car. But- good news! I'm not hurt!", or, " Mom, I got a D in math -- but at least I didn't fail!".

My good news is that I may not need the oxygen permanently. The low oxygen saturations that I've been experiencing are most likely caused by a cardiac defect that can be repaired. Definitely the lesser of two evils: irreversible lung damage vs. small hole between 2 of the heart chambers. Did I mention that it can be repaired?

Patent foramen ovale, or PFO for short, is the medical term. Everyone has one before they are born, since babies in utero aren't breathing and receive oxygenated blood from the mother. The body, efficient mechanism that it is, shunts the blood from one side of the heart to the other, bypassing the lungs. Why use something that isn't working? After birth the foramen ovale closes up and the infant's lungs start doing the work. Rarely one won't close up and will need to be repaired, or in my case it has re-opened due to higher pressure in the lungs from the chronic disease.

I had an echocardiogram (echo for short, an ultrasound of the heart) on Monday and got the call from the nurse yesterday afternoon: I have a PFO. I was ecstatic! I doubt she expected my reaction. A heart defect requiring surgery? Sounds bad, right? Maybe, but it can be repaired and I may not need to deal with the oxygen issue just yet. Someday, but at least not right now.

When I exercise or lie flat my blood is shunting from one atria to the other through the PFO and neither getting rid of CO2 nor picking up new O2 in my lungs. Hence, the low O2 sat levels and shortness of breath. Once the PFO is repaired all should return back to normal. It almost feels like a miracle to me, since I was preparing for a new phase in my life, needing oxygen for activity and sleep. Not the end of the world but something that would be limiting and add complications to daily activities, to be sure.

I'm waiting to hear back from the nurse who will be setting up an appointment for me with a cardiac surgeon. I'm anxious to have this over with and get on with my life, hopefully less short of breath and with a bit more energy. I can't even express my gratitude to my doctor who decided to check this out, when it could have easily been written off as CF progression. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted. Good news, indeed.

Deep Peace

2010-06-29T07:48:00.002-04:00

This is what I see when I'm at my kitchen sink. We bought this lovely hanging Buddha in Portland and were going to hang it on the fence, but this spot seemed to be calling out for it.

Deep Peace

Deep peace of the running wave to you

Deep peace of the flowing air to you

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you

Deep peace of the shining stars to you

Deep peace of the gentle night to you

Moon and stars pour their healing light on you,

Deep peace to you.

Bye, Bye Birdie

2010-06-28T07:25:00.004-04:00

If anyone had ever told me I'd watch every episode of each season of the Sopranos I'd have told them they were nuts. First of all, I don't care for watching violence. Secondly, we don't subscribe to HBO and lastly, I'm usually dozing on the couch or fast asleep by 9pm. However, there is a wonderful invention called Netflix, from which one can rent just about any dvd, any series or television show from the premium channels. Sure, you've got to wait a year or two, but I am usually a bit behind the times with most fads anyway, so it's perfect!

We decided to start renting Sopranos just to see if we liked it. I've always been intrigued by the mafia ever since reading The Godfather series as a young adult. Yes, the show is violent, but hey, it's the mafia after all. The plot line and characters proved to be so engaging I was able to overlook (or cover my eyes) for most of it.

The show starts out with Tony, the head of the "family", in therapy. He's been having panic attacks from the stress of his job. One thing that had recently given him pleasure, a family of ducks who settled into his swimming pool, had just flown off. Naturally, the psychiatrist thought the loss of the ducks somehow equated to his castration fears, but that's beside the point.

The reason I bring this up is because the day after I took the picture of the momma wren feeding her hungry babies, they fledged. They had been very noisy and active, with their little heads poking out of the bird box hole in between visits from Mrs. Wren. In hindsight, it's clear they were preparing themselves for their first flights.

In some ways I felt a little bit sad that they were gone. I had grown accustomed to sitting outside for my breakfast and watching the parents make their many trips back and forth with a tasty bug or moth in their beaks. The cheeping of the babies and the chattering and singing of the parents was one of the first things I heard lying in bed in the morning. They became part of the environment and I enjoyed their presence.

I'm sure a psychiatrist or psychologist could read all kinds of things into my feelings from penis envy to being sad all over again at Wilson's growing up. Who knows, maybe they'd be right. I prefer to think it's just what it is: I liked watching them and seeing the process but it was time for the babies to go forth and do what birds do. I'm sure another year we'll have a different bird family in the birdhouse and I'll enjoy them just as much. In the meantime I'll enjoy the rest of the garden and get to weed the patch under the bird box that I had been avoiding. :-)

Garden Notes

2010-06-16T07:59:00.006-04:00

Yesterday morning I got up early and enjoyed my first cup of coffee outdoors. The sun was just coming up and everything looked so fresh and green. Ms. Wren was busy making many trips back and forth feeding those demanding babies of hers. I was able to get some photos, one of which came out clear enough to post.

The garden is growing well, especially now that there is some deer fencing surrounding it, which makes it impossible for Gomer to get in and use it as a litter box. I'm all for organic fertilizer, but draw the line at horse and cow manure. No cats allowed!

Twitter Update

2010-06-08T06:37:00.002-04:00

For the past few days there has been a lot of activity into and out of the bird box, and last night, while dining on the back deck, both Joe and I heard the faintest little peeps coming from that direction every time one of the adult wrens entered the house. The babies have hatched!

What I wouldn't give for a glimpse into the box, I wonder how many there are. I do hope they all survive. Gomer isn't a threat but there have been a couple strangers passing through the yard lately: long-haired orange and fluffy-tail. Maybe Gomer's presence will keep them far enough away when the babies take their first few flights.

That's my tweet for today.

Table, Part 2

2010-05-30T17:31:00.003-04:00

Finally I'm able to cross this project off my "to do" list. The table is finished. I'm happy to have it completed and think that this just might be the end of my refinishing phase, at least for now.

I'm very happy with the results and love the table in the living room next to my grandmother's chair. The top is lovely wood, the legs and shelf aren't quite as pretty, but still cleaned up alright. Not bad for $3.

Photo Shoot

2010-05-26T06:55:00.005-04:00

I love the colors of the peony and false indigo beside each other.

A planter made from an old wine box Joe brought home from work.

Peony close-up.

Early day lily.

Perspective

2010-05-25T08:47:00.004-04:00

My rear window was shot out with a pellet gun sometime overnight, something I discovered while filling the bird feeders and baths this morning around 6:30. The responding officer was very nice, took my information and left to check the rest of the neighborhood to see if the perpetrators went on a spree or I was the only lucky one. For his sake I hope it was a single incident, as he said if it was one of many he'd be stuck at work filling out forms until noon, tacked on to his already 12 hour shift.

Since my morning routine was so rudely interrupted I figured I'd mix things up and throw my usual order of things out the window. Usually, it's nebs/vest, breakfast and then exercise. Not today, I'm going rogue! Since I'm going to be outside sweeping up the glass anyway, I might as well do all my outdoor chores at the same time.

We're expecting temperatures in the high 80s, much warmer and more humid than we're used to at this time of year so I wanted to do the watering early, before it got too hot. I grabbed my camera to take a few photos of the garden at this early stage. Only the sugar snap peas and cucumbers have yet to sprout; carrots, onions, bush beans and beets are all poking their way out of the soil. I'm hoping the peppers and eggplant will enjoy the hot weather we're expecting this week, at least someone should benefit from it.

I was fortunate enough to be able to capture Ms. Wren as she prepared to enter the bird box. Here she's perched on the fence post above, which seems to be her routine before actually going inside. Wrens are apparently not timid at all and don't seem to mind our presence in the yard. If we get to close they chatter at us, but we've been trying to respect their space and keep a fair distance. Entering the house is usually preceded by a few minutes of singing.

Here she is just prior to popping into the box. For some reason I get a huge kick out of watching them enter and exit through the little doorway. I could have watched for hours when they were building the nest: making many trips in and out for several days on end.

Smashed windows are inconvenient, no doubt about it, but it's hard to stay upset when there are good things all around. It's all about perspective and one way to keep it in check is to stay connected with nature and all the beauty around us. Thanks, Ms. Wren.

If at First

2010-05-21T17:14:00.003-04:00

... you don't succeed-- try, try again. I remember my grandmother teaching me that saying when I was a little girl, some of the best advice I've been given. Trying again is hard, especially when the first experience doesn't go so well. Giving up can seem mighty appealing and is often the easier way out, but if a second (or third or fourth....) attempt is made often times it is more than worth it.

After a conversation with the pulmonary rehab physical therapist, who encouraged me to try a different oxygen delivery system, I waited a couple weeks and then took the plunge. I hated to call the nurse practitioner to tell her I was creating more work for her by switching companies, but she was more than understanding and suggested a company that quite a few of her patients use. She called in the referral and called me back to let me know they have smaller portable oxygen tanks (3.5lbs as opposed to 7lbs) and a delivery system that will allow me to fill the tanks myself. Say what???

I was thrilled at the smaller tanks and would have been completely delighted at that alone. Three and a half pounds less may not seem like a lot, but when it is something you have to lug around with you, every ounce makes a difference. Size does matter, and in this case, smaller is a definite plus.

To be able to fill the tanks myself is an unexpected bonus - I can be completely independent! The only planning I'll have to do is to make sure that before an excursion or outing that one of the 2 portable tanks will be fully charged. No phone calls to make, no deliveries to wait for. I'll only have to deal with the home care company if there is a problem with the concentrator or compressor, and once a year they swap out the machines for newer models.

On top of these two large plusses, the delivery man couldn't have been any nicer. Not only did he not get lost, he cheerfully brought both machines upstairs, set them up, gave me a demo and was incredibly nice. Not one complaint about his day. Imagine!

As a rule, I prefer to use a "mom and pop" type establishment rather than a large company, but in this case my plan clearly backfired. From the small, family owned business I got outdated equipment, rude delivery and poor service. From the large company I had a totally opposite experience. I guess this once I can go against my principles- I'd have to be an oxy-moron to have stayed with the other company!

Nesting Behavior

2010-05-19T08:18:00.004-04:00

The first time I heard that term was while I was expecting W and thought I perfectly summed up the urge I had to get the house in order. The anticipation, restlessness, need to have everything ready. What a cool phenomenon! A behavior that humans and animals all share at some point; something that connects us all as sentient beings living together on this planet.

For the past week or so I've been watching true nesting behavior in action - a pair of house wrens (thanks, Audubon guide to North American birds) is setting up their house in our bird box. Prior to their moving in I saw a few birds checking it out, chickadees popped in and out a few times and decided it was an unsuitable space. No matter, the wrens thought it was perfect and proceeded to make many trips with twigs, bits of grass and other plant matter.

I had no idea how long it took to build a nest, always assuming it took a day or so. Judging by the number of visits with nesting materials in their beaks I'm now thinking it must take closer to a week to complete. I'd love to be privy to the process going on in the box but wouldn't dare disturb them. Watching from the porch or picnic table will have to do. The wrens chatter at us when we're out there but don't seem to be too disturbed by our presence, thankfully.

Across the yard from the birds, the gardens are marked and ready for planting. The potatoes are already in and growing nicely; over the past weekend I planted onion, carrot, beet and bush bean seeds directly in their places. The strings mark out square feet to designate where each crop will be planted. Eventually I'm hoping to have Joe make me some wooden grids, but for now the strings work perfectly. Last weekend we were able to put up the trellises on the northern ends of the beds, which the vining crops will on.

If all goes according to plan, we'll have a crop of baby birds as well as some nice veggies later on in the season.

Quite a Sendoff

2010-05-08T09:09:00.003-04:00

A week ago today we said goodbye to Paul in grand style and it's taken me this long to be able to put anything in writing. There were so many emotions associated with the day: joy, nostalgia, respect, appreciation and of course, sadness that it has been difficult to process.

Our dear friend was definitely in charge of the weather because it dawned sunny, clear and much warmer than the usual first-weekend-in- May average. Paul was always cold so it was perfectly fitting. Interment at the beautiful Mount Holyhood cemetery in Brookline was simple and brief. The urn sat atop the gravesite along with the lovely glass rose that symbolized his online friendships with other cystic fibrosis patients. It was difficult walking away.

The memorial mass was given by a Jesuit priest, Father Jim, who couldn't have been a more perfect match. Paul would have loved him and I can just imagine the lengthy and in-depth philosophical conversations what would have occurred between the two of them. Although the two of them never met in life, Father Jim perfectly summed up Paul, no doubt due to the loving descriptions given by Paul's parents and aunt. His mom picked the readings for the mass and although I am probably the furthest thing to a religious scholar, they made perfect sense to me and tied the ceremony together perfectly. It was a beautiful service and a wonderful, loving tribute to a great son, brother, nephew, friend, scholar and teacher.

His family had planned a delicious luncheon reception following the service where everyone could mingle, share stories and process the mass. The food was delicious and a perfect way to cap off the morning's ceremonies.

It was amazing to have a group of 15 cystic patients together in one place celebrating the life of a cherished friend. The photo was taken on the steps of a former dormitory that was adjacent to the reception and chapel. Friends came from far and wide to pay tribute to Paul: several from the west coast, the south, and the northeast. I can't think of another occasion which has gathered such a number of cystics in one place.

The culmination of the day was the Because of a Woman CD release party that night. Held at an Irish bar in Brighton, the setting couldn't have been any more perfect. Dorian Taj made the trip from Chicago to perform and Paul's brothers David and Kevin did an amazing job of bringing to life the songs from the CD. My favorite, of course, was Terminal.

I think Paul would have been quite pleased at his sendoff, though I can hear him blustering about all the cystics spending time together. Somehow, though, I think he would have understood that we needed to do this for us and if anything, that would have made it almost ok in his mind. 'Bye, friend, I'll always miss you but will see you on the other side.

Perseverance

2010-04-24T15:18:00.004-04:00

Sometimes when you are waiting for a certain outcome it pays to turn a blind eye to whatever you are looking for. Distraction is a good ally and time will always provide perspective, even if it doesn't give you the results you want.

After 4 weeks of exercising routinely I do notice my stamina and strength have improved somewhat. I've been able to increase my leg weights by a pound and my arm weights by 2, so that's something. Day to day the changes are too subtle to be able to take note of, but over a month there is a discernible difference. I'm still needing supplemental oxygen, but at least I haven't leveled at the depressing plateau I'd been at. I may need a little extra help, but I can still crawl back up the hill.

Spring 2010

2010-04-17T07:30:00.004-04:00

I love spring.

Blue sky birches through the verbena.

Scilla by the back basement steps.

Tree form verbena buds.

Cheerful daffs along the side walkway

The After

2010-04-16T17:11:00.003-04:00

No seamstress would ever be envious of my tailoring skills, but I did manage to take in the dress and even put in a zipper (my very first!) I'm not sure I'll ever have the cojones to wear this out and about, but if nothing else, it's a cool summer dress to wear around the house. Did I mention it was only $2?

The Before

2010-04-09T08:35:00.004-04:00

I got this linen summer dress at a thrift shop for $2. I knew it would be way too big for me, though no tag inside to name the brand or maker. I loved the fabric and colors as well as the simple lines. It falls a little above the knee and looked like a perfect hot-weather, casual dress.

I know absolutely nothing about making/altering clothes, usually running off to the seamstress to have something taken in, but this time I decided to mess around with it and see if I can get this dress to actually fit. Oh well, for $2, even if I royally screw it up, no great loss.

So far I've taken it apart. Hopefully, it won't be like my attempts at mechanical projects: with leftover pieces when I'm done! To be continued.

Oxy Moron

2010-04-08T07:12:00.004-04:00

Also known as the driver who brought my O2 compressor yesterday. Clearly, he missed the Sensitivity Training class when it was offered.

Tuesday evening I had an exercise tolerance test to document the need for oxygen during exercise. Instead of the super-duper test I've done in the past on the treadmill with increasing grade and speed, they had me do a 6 minute walk test which consists of walking back and forth in a hallway as quickly as possible for 6 minutes. I felt a little bit like a duck in a shooting gallery going from one end of the hall to another, but it must be a frequent occurrence in the PT hallway at MGH because nobody even did a double take. I hauled ass, sweated like a dog and my O2 sats dropped to an unhealthy 83%. Matt, the pulmonary PT, was not pleased. Neither was I.

After he explained the risks of having a low sat for extended periods of time he said I was definitely going to need oxygen for activity and he wanted me to keep my sats over 90%. Ok, not a problem. He was very sweet and said he was sorry. Nah, it's fine, I replied. I was prepared for this. Staying healthy is the most important thing and if this is what I need to do it, then I'm ok with it. He gave me the encouraging speech that this may well be temporary, just as my lungs recover from the latest infection and round of IVs. Could be in a couple months I can stop using it, but on the other hand, I shouldn't be disappointed if I need to continue with it. Oh yes, I'm very zen about it, I don't have any expectations and will just wait and see. Even I was impressed at how well I was handling it.

That is, until the guy delivering the equipment showed up the next day. I have the good sense (after the fact, anyway) to realize that I probably would have had the same reaction regardless of his behavior and attitude, I know I was reacting to the situation more than his demeanor. It's so much easier to be angry with a person than a situation over which I have no control.

First off, the driver got lost and was quite annoyed at the maze that is our neighborhood. I can absolutely understand that, it is aggravating. But he kept talking about it, again and again. He then proceeded to huff and puff this big compressor and several smaller oxygen tanks up our 4 front steps, which looked like it took quite a bit of effort on his part. After his reaction to getting lost I figured I wouldn't tell him they needed to go up to the bedroom on the 2nd floor!

He started to explain about the cleaning and maintenance and I jotted down a few notes. "You don't need to do that, I have everything in the packet". I was probably being overly sensitive but his tone was definitely a bit sharp. "What about a more portable tank for when I walk/work outside?" His reply was: "I'm going to get to that, you have to let me tell you about this first". Whoa. My eyes teared up. "Do you have allergies or something?". Yeah, that's definitely it, allergies.

When he realized I was upset his tone softened and he started calling me "sweetie". Gag! That just made me cry more. "Is this difficult for you?" Hm... what do YOU think? I couldn't even speak at that point for fear of totally losing my composure. What an idiot: I'm 45 years old and you're bringing an oxygen compressor and portable tanks into my house. Now why in the world would I be upset???

Clearly uncomfortable, he went through the rest of his spiel (without interruption from me, I might add) and then asked if I had any questions. Nope, I'm good. Now get the hell out of my house. His parting line was: "when you get refill tanks, you better give directions to the driver, 'cuz they're probably going to get lost".

I should try to have some compassion for this guy but at the moment I had trouble accessing it. We do have something in common, though: there isn't a cure for stupidity, either.

Seedlings

2010-04-07T08:17:00.003-04:00

All the seeds have sprouted except for the peppers (though I think today may be their day) and the tagetes marigolds whose seeds were a few years old. Lesson #1: don't be cheap, buy new seeds each year.

So far I have planted: luffa sponge gourds, super sweet 100 hybrid red cherry tomatoes, sun gold orange cherry tomatoes, big boy tomatoes, red peppers, summer sun yellow peppers, black beauty eggplants, basil and petite mix marigolds. The remaining seeds can go directly in the ground in another month: the zucchini, beans and lettuces. The potatoes will be planted at that time, also. I need to figure out what plants are going to go where in the raised beds but I've got time for that.

Sunday Dinner

2010-04-06T07:22:00.001-04:00

When I was growing up my dad's parents would often come over for a big afternoon Sunday dinner. It was a nice tradition of family, food and my grandfather usually nodding off in the chair while everyone else sat around and chatted.

Although we don't really celebrate Easter now, it feels a bit odd not to get together so my parents and brother made the trek yesterday afternoon and joined us for a meal. It reminded me of when we were growing up and enjoyed a big Sunday afternoon dinner with 3 generations of family. Here's to tradition.

Potential

2010-04-05T07:01:00.004-04:00

My stiff muscles today can attest to the amount of work done outdoors over the weekend. We had unusually warm temps for this time of year, perfect for getting a jump-start on the garden chores. Joe made these wonderful raised beds for me on Saturday; Sunday morning before my parents and brother came he filled them with all 16 bags of soil and manure. Ready for planting!

Before the beds could be put in, we removed several decades-old forsythia bushes, an 8' tree of unknown species and the compost piles needed to be moved. The recycled white fence was placed perpendicular to the existing stockade to hide the bins. The composters were emptied out, turned, then moved about 3' to the right. The uncomposted material were put back in with some leaves and soil. The finished compost went right into the garden beds and around the peonies. That stuff is the best.

A neighbor had rented a lawn aerator and was kind enough to bring it down and let us borrow it. Earlier in the week I had put down corn gluten to prevent crabgrass and other annual weeds in addition to giving the grass a boost. It has been about 10 years since I started using only organic amendments to the soil and in the past couple years it has started to pay off with a noticeable reduction in crabgrass. Organic isn't an overnight fix, but with patience and consistency it works well.

I've planted up a couple seed flats for the plants that require an early indoor start and the potatoes are ready to be put in the soil as soon as it is warm enough. I don't expect miracles this year, but figure I'll do a lot of learning as I go along. I'm excited about this new adventure and will be keeping track of the progress with photos and notes so I can refer back in future years.

Put a Little Birdhouse in Your Soul

2010-04-04T07:36:00.001-04:00

Or on your new back fence!

My dad is a very creative guy and for Christmas gave both me and my brother these garden-art birdhouses that he made from garden tools. The birdhouse was firmly attached and even the holes in the pitchfork were pre-drilled (screws included!) so it was ready to put up as soon as the weather got nice enough. My dad thinks of everything.

Knowing that we were going to be erecting a fence this spring I held off on installing it until it was up. I primed and painted the house white, leaving the roof and half moon on the door to weather (hopefully!) gray. I'd love it if a bird moved in but even if it remains unoccupied, it is an cool addition that gives some interest to the otherwise boring fence. There happened to be a purple clematis vine planted just underneath, so I'm hoping it will grow up the handle of the pitchfork. I was amazed it survived the chain-link removal and stockade installation. They are tougher than I imagined.

I is Pretty as a Pansy

2010-04-03T07:25:00.000-04:00

While waiting for the weather to improve I left 2 flats of pansies and one of the pots they will be planted in out on the 3 season porch. Gracie loves bags, but Miss Millie is a pot girl. I crossed my fingers that she wouldn't hop out as I ran for the camera and as luck would have it, she didn't.

She's mid-yawn in this photo, just prior to doing several summersaults and cozying up for a warm nap in the sun. Even the pansies can't compete with that cuteness!

Stripping

2010-04-02T08:23:00.004-04:00

I am finally finished stripping the little yard sale table I got last summer. It was covered in at least 2 different coats of paint in addition to the wood finish underneath. I love my power sander!

The next step will be using progressively finer sandpaper to give it a smooth finish before I oil it. I don't think it's going to need any stain since it's a pretty wood and I don't want it to be too dark. I have just the spot for it in the living room and even got a pre-WW2 lamp for $1 at a yard sale that will look perfect on it. The lamp does need to be re-wired, but luckily Joe is handy in that department.

I'm hoping to have some time this weekend to work on the table now that the worst part is over. Better look for my mask!

Turkey for Easter?

2010-03-30T07:31:00.006-04:00

I'm all for breaking tradition: typically, we have a ham for dinner on Easter Sunday, but this year Millie and Gracie are hoping for turkey on the table.

We took this photo over the weekend while doing yard work. Joe spotted the 3 female turkeys in a neighbor's yard. They ambled their way down the street as though they owned the place and spent a bit of time in our and our next door neighbor's yards.

For such large birds they make a very small sound, more like a peeping noise than the "gobble gobble" we think of when we see a Thanksgiving turkey. Maybe because they are ladies?

The clash of nature and suburbia never ceases to entertain me. I guess I'm easily amused.

If You Don't Have Something Nice to Say..

2010-03-28T08:13:00.003-04:00

...It's better not to say anything at all. At least that's what my parents always told me, and I guess I was unconsciously putting that into practice here. It's not that I've been unhappy or feeling negative, or even that I didn't have any nice things to say. I wasn't feeling well physically and that seemed to overshadow any of the other good things going on in my life and I wasn't able to put anything to writing without feeling whiny. So I kept my mouth shut!

After the 2 weeks of IV antibiotics in December, which left me feeling pretty well, I was able to enjoy about a month of good health. I got back to my usual exercise routine, but within days of hitting my exercise goal of 40 minutes on the treadmill with 30 minutes of 2.5% incline I caught a cold. A lingering, annoying cold which never really left me. I thought maybe some sun and warm temps in AZ would help it move along, but that was not to be. I felt even worse out west. Ok, so maybe it was some allergy to a desert flower? Yeah, sure, that had to be it. I'll feel better when I get home. Not so. I was short of breath on the treadmill, had trouble even dragging my suitcase on wheels and couldn't get much of anything done. Two weeks and some bleeding from my lungs later I figured I better check in to Hotel MGH again. My quickest turnaround ever, a mere 3 months, something many other cystics struggle with routinely, but a new thing for me. Round 2 of me vs. stenotrophomonas and proteus.

Fortunately, the antibiotics and rest did their trick. After a week I was feeling markedly better: no more bleeding, less coughing and the shortness of breath was receding. A little oxygen on the treadmill and I was feeling like superwoman. Yeah, baby! So begins the rehab process.

I'm trying to learn from past experience that it's best not to rush back into everything at once. The mind is willing but the body unable. Joe has been very sweet and patient so it's just my own internal pressure that I need to struggle with. I have to wear oxygen on the treadmill, which is hopefully temporary. I have a new toy, an oximiter, which I place on my finger to test the level of oxygen that my blood is carrying at any given time. Over 95% is normal, and below 90-91 is too low. When some one's lungs are not functioning adequately the blood doesn't get fully oxygenated and isn't able to transport enough to supply the cells with the nutrients they need. This causes the feeling of shortness of breath. So the supplemental oxygen helps to keep the blood saturated enough to feed the muscles and other tissues. My doc and I are hoping that as my lungs continue to heal and the inflammation goes down I won't require the little extra boost, but only time will tell. There's nothing I can do other than wait and let my body do the work. I'll work on the things I can control, like resting, good nutrition and exercise, and let go of what I can't. Now I just need to keep in mind the things I can and can't control. To be continued.

Light

2010-03-02T07:32:00.002-05:00

The past 10 days or so have been cloudy, rainy, snowy and just plain depressing. It seems as though we are getting one big storm after another, which makes for some cool ocean waves, but other than that, isn't good for much. We have water in our basement and the yard is half-frozen mud. Yuck. Arizona seems years ago.

On a brighter note, I hear more singing birds in the morning. Each year at this time there is a subtle shift in the sounds outside. I've heard Canadian geese calling to each other while flying in their V-formation, returning to the area. Cardinals are chirping in the yard and even the birds at the feeder seem a little more hopeful, less hunkered down in their feathers. The sun is up earlier and goes to bed later by a few minutes each day. Once the ground dries out I can start making my rounds in the yard to check for crocuses peeking up. All of this makes me happy, with the anticipation of spring.