Skating

So we went ice skating last night, well some of us went ice skating watching---puny floating rink at Lake Las Vegas. A far cry from the huge frozen lagoons we grew up skating on during frosty midwestern winters, but the grandkids had fun.

Trouble

"You garment!" she's been accusing all week. Hmmn, what does that mean? Finally I was perceptive enough to ask if she meant "varmit", so now half the time Brooklyn calls me garment varmit, and sometimes just "garment". Personally I think she's a little varmit herself---she sticks her tongue out at me now and I told her I'm going to take it and put it in my ear so I can tell secrets easier from now on! Watch out, little girl!!

Video of this character ended up under "Brooklyn" post on Saturday, Nov.22

Pay It Forward

Shopping on Black Friday? Never been tempted to that level of crazy.  But two of my daughters went out at 4:30 am on Black Friday while I stayed home with the guys, and kids (thanks, awesome son-in-laws!). When they returned 8 or 9 hours later, I guess the stash was incredible. But what rocked my world was how they ambushed Kai, their 10 year old nephew, and showered him with dozens of the coolest clothes ever. Undemonstrative, quiet, reserved oldest grandson put on a fashion show for us that seemed to never quit. Just like the spirit of these generous girls. I was so touched and so went into the bathroom to cry in private, when Willow came in and I feebly tried to express my appreciation. "Mom", she said, "Treesje had such fun doing this for Mattie this summer when she flew her up to Utah. We remember when Aunt Jan did this for us when we were young. And Aunt Dianne."



Whoa, I really lost it then. Before we could even get to Aunt Cindy and how she and Mom have spoiled the grandkids since forever. What DNA!!! I rejoice that the spirit of generosity lives on; I am so grateful for my beautiful and unassuming sisters who have inspired this in my children, and who are still there for me in every way as my life has become increasingly challenging. Mom, you must have done something very right! Genuine, enduring Thanksgiving in my heart.

I had my nose in the air---I thought Black Friday was all about materialism and greed. Not worthy of my attention. HA. Thanks, Treesje & Willow, for showing me, once again, life is all about what you make it. How I love you!

Leaving It All Behind

Ok, now I feel officially retired. Starting Social Security a few months ago didn't really do it, but not cooking the turkey for the first time in 40 years---that's a watershed experience! Not that I need sympathy, mind you, it was a guilty kick to lounge on the couch and cast a glance every once in awhile to the kitchen where Willow, Treesje, and Fumiko toiled the hours away chopping, dicing, stirring, basting. I knew they could do it without me, I just couldn't figure out HOW. But Willow had spent time absorbing succulent recipes from Oprah's show, and the girls just kicked it. Not only did they do it all without me, they showed me up good. Ouch! It was amazing. Absolutely best ever. And then all that cleaning up. Memories! Next year, assuming I'm not still on crutches, I'm going to stay out of the kitchen for the good of all anyway, and let the new stars shine on. Oh, I'll be the clean up committee---once a drudge, always a drudge?---but CHANGE is here!!!! Love it! Thanks lovely ladies!

A Polish Joke---Not

I was remembering the question that Willow and Shane's neighbor asked me the other day when he drove by just at the time they had put me out on the sidewalk for pickup with the trash. I had told him the reason for my plight (uh, I fell off a ladder changing a light bulb). "Well", he laughed, "just how many Polish people does it take to change a light bulb?"  Being neither Polish nor blonde, I may have done my share for having made them look good comparatively at this point.

And I'm sick of it. So I want to change my cover story. What harm can that do? I just need your input to see what you think I should go with.

One suggestion is being bitten by a shark. I kinda like that. My granddaughter Maddy has actually been trying to teach me how to surf the last 2 summers in San Diego. The truth is I have been incessantly pummeled by rocks and have barely been able to stand in the surf, to the point that this tiny little 10 year old granddaughter literally saved my life when I could no longer rally to get up out of the viciously attacking waves.  One would think sharks would be smart enough to avoid such hazardous conditions, but fools rush in where angels fear to tread, so who knows?

Another wannabe scenario, in a virgin attempt at kayaking when visiting with college roommates this summer at Lake Tahoe, after switching from the kayak, I tumbled out of the canoe into the rapids in the Truckee River, which hurled me up and down and all around like a rag doll in an industrial washing machine. Actually this also is a too true story, though the timing is off by a couple months....  repeatedly So many times the sheer force of the river had its way with me, despite all the strength I could muster just to hang on, I truly gave up hope of surviving. Yet a miracle later, I ended up with only massive bruises in obscene places. I could embellish, no?  Surely, a calcaneus fracture is totally in sync with such a brazen wilderness confrontation.

Or if I couldn't have sustained this injury just in the process of being cool, how about by being a hero? I have always wanted to drag someone from out of the mouth of a polar bear (at the zoo, I can't take the cold, and only want to be a hero, not a martyr). Or pull a family from a burning building. That would make this pain bearable, or worth it. But the only thing in that vein I have done in the real world is to stop a rape in progress in the long ago.  And how could I manipulate that--- he karate chopped my heel out of anger? Logistics. Could happen, but I think a broken rib or neck would be more likely.

Anyway, you see my dilemma. Can't keep going with the ladder fall. If you can help me with a better scenario, I would really appreciate it (will consider UFO themes)...or let me know if you would vote for one of the above. Something has to change.

Brooklyn

Just finished talking to my Mom who reminded me that last week when I was staying with my daughter, 3 year old Brooklyn came downstairs and said, "Grandma, there is no soccer games today to go to, so we will stay here and rot with you." Can you ask for more support than that?

A few weeks ago when I made my initial invasion of their house, she informed her mom, "Grandma's coming over to rot at our house."

I just want to say Brookie, thanks for keeping my mouth upturned while the other body parts disintegrate. I'm rotting on my own at home today and I sure miss you!

Thumbsucking

Waiting for the telling moment, when the Dr. would tell me the state of my condition yesterday, was a nerve wracking experience--- believe that's called life. Last week, I had been so underwhelmed when he would come in and examine my foot and just stare and stare and then leave and come back later and repeat. His comments were, "This is exactly what we fear happening in such cases", and he took his own sweet time to decide what to do. I left the office a little anxious. And then some.

So the day before this appointment I was prone to visions, like getting kicked off Dancing With the Stars for having a missing foot, or having leeches or maggots slathered on below the ankle in a last ditch effort to save it--- worst of all, never being able to drive again (7 weeks and I may have forgotten how already!)

So I was in a fine state (tears) when Willow snuck up on me and caught me at my own pity party. I hadn't even gotten into the maggot thing when she pointed her finger at me and said, "Look, Mom, I can be your Dr., or I can be your therapist, but I can't do both, so if you're going to act like this, call another of my sisters, because enough is enough."  

Hmmm. So I figured if she was man enough to keep tackling all the pus and blood and yuk, I could suck it up (not the blood or pus, of course) and only get hysterical if it turns out I really can't ever drive again. And that better not happen, especially now that gas is finally down. I mean, I never really watch Dancing With the Stars anyway. However, I obviously have needed therapy long before this incident, so Afton, Torrey, Treesje, consider yourselves forewarned!

Anyway, Dr. Tingey finally smiled at my foot, ugly and unappealing as it is, and proclaimed that this was exactly the best case scenario for the moment, because even though it is obviously still ripe with infection, it is better than last week, and so hopefully we have turned the corner. A couple of times he emphasized that "You still aren't out of the woods, it could boomerang" but he said I didn't have to see him for TWO WEEKS! Pretty much like being given the key to the city, isn't it?

I am taking this sanitizing in sunlight thing seriously-- 5 hours one day, 3 hours today, in addition to the antibiotics, Innerlight Silver Solution, Pureworks agenda. I don't think I can fail. But it does take time, as my sweet daughter-in-law Fumiko assures me. Thanks everyone for all the patience and support!

Thanks...and then some!

It is always gratifying to see your children doing something thoughtful, some random kindness, even if once in a while, it's for you. And so it was fun today to have Shane come to my sunning place in his backyard; he was hidden behind a vibrant display of color--- a stunning bouquet of magnificent proportion--- edible fruits! It was whimsical, and of course, delicious, but what I loved most about it was that it was explicitly inclusive of Willow & Family, even Wayner, for the TLC they have been rendering me. I love that Torrey and Treesje and Chris recognize the sacrifices that the Jagers have been so willing to make while I have been staying there. And I'm really grateful that they are so grateful for that service. Hopefully, I will be giving them a respite soon if the Dr. thinks I'm doing OK.

Actually,all of the kids have been helpful in so many ways, from rides, running errands, phone calls, what have you. Not to mention the extended family with tangible support on all levels, and dear friends as well. Must take a village to heal a madwoman! Simply could not be more blessed.

Such a deal!

This afternoon I was babysitting 3 year old Brooklyn.  I went outside to soak up some beautiful sun and she followed me and spent the next half hour entertaining me by jumping over a dozen basketballs on the in ground trampoline. It was a transfixing moment, and it took me back to when my kids were little and we had moved to California. My sunning moments then were spent hanging laundry outside (8-12 loads every day except Sunday) in a valiant effort to save the earth from the ozone layer.   I was committed  to single handedly preserving the earth in a more pristine state it for my kids and grandkids. This I did for 11 years, and I could see Brooklyn was now benefiting mightily from my noble sacrifices. There were silver linings at the time though--- ever smell laundry fresh off the line from the out of doors? In Germany, I always hung laundry outside even in the frozen winter.  It still smelled amazing!

Then I recalled how leaving stained clothes outside for a couple of days in the sun almost always magically did away with any stubborn stain, and everything was sanitized. Eureka!! That was it! The key to my stubborn-wound-not-healing dilemma. Let it bake in the sun! But I needed to wait for Willow to come home to unwrap my pathetic foot. 

You'd understand if you ever had gotten on her bad side. She's pretty much my keeper now. Luckily, she was very supportive when she got back. Even Wayne piped in with a blurb about the movie "The Other Side of Heaven" where rats got in and munched the missionary's foot, resulting in a disgusting infection. The natives, I guess, tied his leg up to a tree and left him out in the tropical sun for days or weeks, and it worked---  the infection right out. Totally inspired, we got up to start for the backyard and saw the sun was all gone from the backyard. So Willow suggested taking the couch from the garage (they had tried to sell on the weekend during the neighborhood garage sale) and catching the rays in the front yard.

Seemed pretty white trash to me, but what the heck? We are nothing if not white trash through and through. So I was situated on half the sectional couch next to the trash cans. One neighbor drove by and stopped to chat, but no serious offers. Before bringing me in, they told Karsen to go down the block to see if the little boy who tried to buy the couch for 8 bucks on the weekend would take it now (with me on it) for that price. Guess they're ready to deal. Evidently he wasn't. So looks like I may well be out there again when the garbage men come tomorrow... please pray for sun in the backyard! Thanks!!!

The Pillow Incident

Ok, so the other day while staying at Willow's house to recuperate, I woke up at 4:30 am (not unusual) in a fit of giggles (highly unusual). I AM on drugs! For 3 hours I emailed my sister (I have definitely snapped). 

I was glued to the computer for such an extraordinary amount of time, that I had ignored nature's call until it became a Hallelujah Chorus/Punk Rock Edition that bypassed the auditory system and went straight to the urinary track. Did I mention that first thing in the morning I drink a liter of Greens???  

I desperately tried to respond and grabbed my crutches and fell back to the couch. Too late! I was being overtaken, so I tried to think rationally about Plan B. There was a trash bag on the floor which I kept nearby for when I needed to waterproof my leg in order to shower--- hey, I could improvise a porta potty! 

Then I remembered how often my leg got soaked in the shower anyway and how expensive the flooring in my daughter's home is, so I instinctively grabbed my pillow and stuck it between my legs--- Plan C! I struggled to get up on the crutches while keeping my knees (one bent) together to keep the pillow in place! This was beyond my natural capabilities, far beyond. A few failed attempts and a power beyond myself stepped in and I was up, straddling that polyester like a horse and galloping off to the bathroom. Talk about amazing grace!

Well, at least such was my intention. My daughter had thrown all the dirty clothes down from the 2nd story balcony during the night, so when I got out of the family room, I encountered a staggering laundry obstacle course! The bottom of one of the crutches would hook onto a bra strap, and I would have to pause to figure out how to extricate it without letting my knees out of their locked position so as to lose what little sense of false security I could cling to. And I do mean cling! I would just manage to move ahead and get hung up on boxers. It's true the devil is in the details. Twice, I slipped. In full wannabe gallop mode, I inched my way forward, the giggling now interspersed with tears. It was slow going. And the pressure was on; oh, was the pressure on!

So I eventually made it to the john and was able to save the floor, not so much the pillow---praise be that it was kingsize. I felt guilty and humbled and decided to come clean. I removed my skirt and underwear and started the shower right then and there, keeping my shirt on for the moment. Then I realized I had no towel available and so began crutching over to the laundry room down the hall, hoping all the towels hadn't been in the dirty array before me minutes ago during my journey/quest/ordeal. I grabbed what was easily available--- a handful of white washcloths. Beggars can't be choosers, right? 

No one was home during this crisis and as I was limping back to the shower, it hit me that my son, who lives there, was out and might be returning who knows when. For no apparent reason, I thought what a shock it would be for him to walk in on his Mom in a too natural state. Oops, how to hurry and cover up?  Realizing I needed the trash bag after all to hopefully keep my splinted leg dry in the shower. I faced the dirty laundry ordeal all over again, mercifully without the pillow, and did manage to return to the scene of the crime, said couch. I duct taped the trash bag to my leg, then realized I had no scissors to cut it, so just left the roll of tape there at the front of my knee. Back through the laundry (doesn't this remind you of "Going on a Tiger Hunt"?) .

Made it! In the shower I became overheated and exhausted and immediately realized I hadn't eaten yet; I was beyond dizzy, so to keep from passing out, I ended up on my hands and knees on the bottom of the tub. Well almost, the roll of duct tape protruding from the front of my knee actually prevented that from fully happening, so then I tried to escape by lifting myself up and out, while keeping the one leg "safely" hanging over the side. Unfortunately, the only hold I could find was a slippery soap holder on the far side of the tub. Over and over my hand kept slipping back down. I was trapped. Giggling wildly now, no tears, I tried repeatedly to elevate. Fool's errand. It did happen eventually, though by then I was likely in another dimension. I grabbed the little pile of washcloths to dry off.

I was exhausted and sweating by the time I made it through the dirty laundry jungle yet again and collapsed on the couch. I was still unclothed, except for one washcloth on my hair and the trash bag around my leg. I composed myself and realized I still hadn't found any scissors to release myself from the trash bag and the duct tape loyally holding it to me. With no energy left to get up again, I glanced around and saw my dinner dish from the night before on the floor not far from me. What choice did I have? I grabbed what was available and forked myself (in the bag) to get free. It worked! With sudden clarity, I realized I had literally screwed myself that morning....  I got dressed.

Later, when my family returned, my daughter noticed I was a little spent and asked what had happened while she was gone. "Oh, nothing, hon," I winked. See, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What did you think?


EPILOGUE: She found the pillow, and to be sure, they have a lovely new couch....

Day 3 of cleaning

First, let me start with saying Willow is taking such great care of me, although she is a busy mother and is gone a lot.  I actually like a break from her because that is when I run around the house dancing and flipping off the walls.  When she is home she makes me sit on the couch and talk to her.  Anyhow, notice in the picture that the bottom is doing great, but the top part of the incision is still struggling.  Did someone (like you) forget to say your prayer for me last night?  If so get on it so I can get back to hiking, skiing, surfing and partying!  

Day 2 of cleaning

The bottom part of the incision is starting to close, but the top is interesting!!!!

Day 1 of cleaning

After the doctor finally took out the stitches he said I would have to keep it uncasted and clean it each day.  My fabulous, brave and don't forget beautiful daughter, Willow has been cleaning it for me.  Here are pictures from the first day.  It appears not to be closing where the incision was made?  

Pray for me!  

Willow Rhymes With Pillow

A stomach of steel, Willow, to take such good care of your Motha!

Letter to Dianne- Why Yes, I'm on Drugs, Why Do You Ask?

Dear Sis, I AM at Willow's still. Bet you're feeling sorry for her.  Actually she's gone all the time,or sleeping.   Although Sunday night they were home, so they moved an old couch into the garage after they parked the car outside, so we could just languish there and look like white trash and spy on the neighbors- is that the right spelling?)

Well maybe it is if you live in an equestrian neigh, neigh, neighborhood; of course, if it were dogs it would be an "arferhood"...or "bowwowerhood"--- then maybe if they were East Coast they'd want to borrow your lawn mower or something.  Of course it it were an HOA and just restricted to Pit Bulls,it would be illegal anyway.   And if it were cats, for pete's sake, it would be a catty neighborhood like Wisteria Lane,and be on TV and all.  (See---everytime, follow the money!!!) Right. 

Anyway,back to the spying.  I mean like it would probably be classified OVERT spying,because there you all are on the couch, on full display EXPOSED,but modestly so because of the kids and all,so it definitely appears to be the riskiest kind of spying.  We did see Jeff (the guy across the street) kind of talking to his truck, so that'll be in the report.  Just don't know who to report to yet.  Is that kind of like report it and they will come???   Or Law of Attraction? 

So for a few days I have been getting these random intense jolts that got my attention and then some.  They would only last a fraction of a second and the target was mostly my foot--- that had been operated on almost a week ago--- which made me a little suspicious (because I once long ago went to a Dentist and told him my tooth hurt whenever I walked and he made me get out of his office--- like I was supposed to go to the foot Dr. when my tooth hurt?  Honestly, give some people a degree...)

But I figured it made sense for that area to have a problem now with the CAT Scan proof of the heel being broken and all, so I felt validated and official.  I didn't feel/look like a fool so much anymore (which works as I'm no longer blonde like I was when I went to the Dentist).  I never mentioned it to anyone at any rate--- till last night; because it almost left quicker than it came, so it was easier to ignore than to get all worked up about it. I have limited energy at this point, after all. 

However the night before last, the pain started to spread up the ankle, and after a few times, it enveloped the whole leg.  Not only that, the frequency of these attacks accelerated on an exponential scale.  So I was lying on the couch last night when I was attacked by myself, and my leg came up off the pillow and nearly kicked me in the head.  I yelped because it was so intense and spontaneous and I didn't have a chance to sing a military hymn or recite the Girl Scout promise or anything.  So I got Willow's attention because she was right there and she made me call the Dr. He's even cute over the phone!   

Anyway, he'd never heard of such a symptom, but was sure it wasn't a red flag.  I see him Thursday afternoon to get the stitches out, and I will be so hurt if he kicks me out of his office and tells me to go see a Dentist.  Wow, that Karma! 

The Doc actually at that point told me I was in a lot less pain than almost anybody else who he has operated on with this same surgery, so I am doing fantastic! (That's basically the same line I got from all the male Drs. attending me during childbirth--- "relax, relax, this is a piece of cake.")   Do males even experience pain at all?  I am going to start calling him at 3 am starting tonight. 

Do you think we could possibly gang up and do that in shifts all over the country?  So it would be like "Ohh, I'm in soooo much pain at this time, it registers all the way to Chicago!" And then the next half hour, someone from Florida would call in "...all the way to Tampa!"   then the next half hour "...to San Jose!"  And wouldn't it be cool to have "Do you know the way to San Jose" playing in the background right then???  Of course, our voices wouldn't sound the same, so alternatively we could use Morse Code.  Or counteralternatively we could just keep the volume way up on the song... Girl power!! 

I AM going to try to go and vote today.  I called yesterday to see if I could somehow be accommodated on crutches and all.  I am new to this handicapped business. Election Headquarters put me on hold for half an hour (I don't know, maybe they assumed I was otherwise challenged as well and just put me on slo/mo). Anyway they came back and said to just try to go to the front of the line and then if no one poked my eyes in (in which case I would be blind and could definitely get some assistance in the special voting booth--- seriously!), voila, I would be in the front of the line.

Do you think that works for Andrea Bocelli?  Or do you suppose he would use fake crutches to get in the front of the line in the first place first?  I mean, what's the good of being blind if you have to WAIT for help in the voting booth?   Of course, maybe he's not a citizen in the first place.   So what do you suppose they would do about this in Italy?  I know, I know---that's why we have Ambassadors. Is Shirley Temple still functioning, so to speak?   I just thought, what if I start kicking myself in the head over and over when I'm in the Voting Booth?  Will they be able to tell if I'm a Democrat or Republican?   That's sooooo not right. (Independent, actually, though not so much for the time being.) Hey, what if I could sing?   Oh well, time for a pain pill.  Yipeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yipeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love, Your Sis (and there's nothing much you can do about that)