PT

I started physical therapy this week for a rotator cuff injury.  I guess one would call it an injury.  It's not painful as much as it is constantly sore. I don't know how I injured it.  Maybe just sleeping on that side, or due to enthusiastic weeding in the garden?  It's not serious, and doesn't seem to be a tear.  I'm fairly confident it will get better with therapy and I won't need surgery.  I live in hope.  

As one ages, it always seems to be something.  That's a phrase all the old ladies in my life have used.  Now I'm old and I have earned the right to say it.  Cliches have power.  

Looking back over my life I must admit it has always been something.  Looking forward I assume there will be something else and more, both good and bad.  

I do like going to physical therapy, it reminds me of going to the gym, and having a personal trainer.  Maybe if I actually still went to a gym I wouldn't have this injury?  No way to tell unless I went to a gym after I heal.  Not going to happen.  I just don't want to.  

It does feel good to be exercising my upper arms, though.  

8 years this week

The whole process was surreal. She was in a nursing home and had a stroke. We didn't want her to be alone, so I offered to sleep in a hospital bed next to hers until she died.  

That week in the room with her was strange. She was non-responsive. I feel like I slept in the valley of the shadow of death. And you know what? I feared no evil.  There was no evil, only death and dying. Death is not evil, it is just relentlessly sad.    

My Mom was a devout, old-time Catholic. She once told me that the Prayer of St. Michael the Archangel was her favorite prayer and she wanted it read after she died. Within minutes of her last breath, I googled that Leonine prayer (written about 1886), stood up and told my siblings I was going to read it because she asked. 

I was not the least bit familiar with this prayer. When I started reading it aloud I was a bit spooked, but I soldiered on. My siblings looked at me like they thought I'd lost my mind. Perhaps I had. 

"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen."

It seemed like a magical invocation. I was calling out the big guns, the ultimate bad ass, an angelic warrior named Michael! In doing so, I made a plea for her safety on that journey only the dead will take.  Honestly, I don't think I COULD have read it out loud if I had been in my right mind.  

Turns out Archangels have job descriptions.  According to Wikipedia: 

"Michael is the angel of death, carrying the souls of all the deceased to heaven. In this role Michael descends at the hour of death, and gives each soul the chance to redeem itself before passing; thus consternating the devil and his minions."

I didn't know this until today when I looked him up. My Mom would have known and believed. At the end, she deserved better than me, an agnostic drama queen.

Visitor #3 of 3

Our second visitor arrived on Monday and left on Thursday.  Friday was our daughter M's 51st birthday dinner, and Saturday night Tom2, our third visitor of the week, arrived.  What a kind and gentle person he is.  

Having all these visitors has been fun in so many ways, and still is.  However, I'm on my last leg.  Today we took Tom2 to the Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive to see alligators, birds, and waterfowl from the convenience of our car window.  It's always a big hit with visitors, and my Tom and I love the drive.  Afterwards we drove into Mt. Dora to go to our favorite Cuban restaurant, The Copocabana, where I had my usual picadillo with a large mojito.  What a beautiful day!

I had to take a nap as soon as I got in the house.  Did I tell you I was exhausted?  

Here are some pictures from the drive.  Never fear, I was using a zoom lens and I was inside the car.   

Alligator Head

Heron

Anhinga

Galinule

Ibis

A big old gator

Cooking while rattled

Having visitors has been a bit jarring for me.  The past few years have been spent quietly, with people we know.  People who are predictable, and comforting in their familiarity.  I had forgotten how it feels to be around people who are less predictable.  It takes a lot of emotional and physical energy.  And lots and lots of talking.  I can talk that talk.  I can talk until the cows come home, and enjoy every minute of it.  But at a price.  I was in bed about 9 pm last night.  I may have to take a nap this afternoon.  I almost never nap.  

I tend to get rattled when socially challenged.  I say this as I just realized I accidentally turned off the stove half way in to baking a frittata.  Unbeknownst to me it then sat in a warm oven for 20 minutes.  I turned the oven back on, but I know that is a futile effort.  When our guest wakes up I will try to interest her in peanut butter on toast, or steamed oatmeal with blueberries and walnuts.  

Sheesh.  I was really counting on that frittata to start the day off right. 

Visitors Feb 2023

 The COVID years kept visitors away.  Now they are back.  We will have three separate visitors this week.  

Yesterday (Sunday) we met an old friend of mine for lunch.  She and her boyfriend are staying at a DisneyWorld time share she's had for many years.  I have known her, through thick and thin, since we were both young working women. We were even union activists together in those heady days.  We worked in many of the same departments at the University, although not always at the same time.  We share history and love, although we don't always agree on politics.  Politics were avoided at all costs.

The second visitor arrives today (Monday), and will stay with us through Thursday morning.  She is a friend from my husband's commune days in the late 1960s.  We last saw her in 1975.  She is very free spirited, bolstered by a San Francisco lifestyle.  She is also a vegetarian who avoids dairy.  I am none of those things.  I am looking forward to getting to know her better, and excited to eat more plant based meals while she's here.  I have to remember to give her and Tom some space so they can talk about old times, without me.  There will be plenty of politics, as she is in Florida to attend a New College reunion in Sarasota.  If you have any awareness of Florida politics, you will know that DeSatan DeSantis is trying  to destroy New College because it is extremely progressive.  

Last, on Saturday night another of Tom's friends arrives.  He is also named Tom, so we'll call him Tom2.  Tom2 is a lovely man, a musician.  I imagine he and my Tom will play music and go look for alligators while he's here.  He'll be here for 2 nights, and he eats meat.  I've already made some bread, and a red sauce with Italian sausage for pasta.  Both are in the freezer.  Will there be politics?  I don't know.  

This is going to be fun, but I'm already tired.  

Spring is coming, maybe it's even here

We rode our bikes to a park on Lake Apopka the other day. It was a beautiful day, sunny, light wind, low humidity and only in the low 70s.  The azaleas have been blooming for a while.  I noticed on our ride that the tabebuia trees are packed with yellow blossoms. Spring has come to central Florida, and I hadn't noticed until today.  What's been wrong with me?  

Our few deciduous trees (we have a sycamore and crape myrtle, but there are others out and about) have not returned to life, but will soon.  Of course the palms trees, live oaks, and scrub pines remain green all year round.  Now when I see pictures from up north with snow cover and the overwhelming starkness of tree branches, I am in awe.  The weather is like that for so long in New York State.  It's little wonder that so many become avid amateur gardeners during their astoundingly short growing season.  I salute them.

Here are some pictures from this month in Central Florida.

A bloom on the white bird of paradise

palm tree with spanish moss, Lake Apopka in background

Red Maple seedlings? 

An alligator

leaves and Spanish moss

Painting the living room

We've been preoccupied the past week, painting the living room, dining room, and entrance way. We are not done yet, because we are not hurrying. I've spent the majority of my life hurrying to get things done both at work and at home. I'm beyond that now.  

What I have learned in retirement is this: Productivity is overrated. I need massive amounts of time to think, daydream, indulge myself with personal interests.  

on a walkway, looking down into the water below

Dressing up

There are many online sales for women's clothing at this time of the year. I've been perusing the sales and seeing all sorts of work clothes I'd like to buy. The problem, of course, is that I'm retired and haven't worked outside the home in 9 years.  

I also almost never go anywhere I'd be required to wear nice clothes, especially a dress, and dresses are what I yearn for. I have dresses in my closet that are totally out of style, and a "little" tight. I'm going to get rid of them. What the heck am I hanging on to them for? If I don't get rid of them soon, the only people who will want them will be costumer's for high school plays.

This summer I'll be going to a family wedding that will require me to wear at least one dress, maybe two. I'm excited about buying the perfect dress for my old lady body. 

I want a dress that looks good on me. You know what I mean. You can try on 5 dresses, and all fit so awful you want to cry. Then that 6th dress is a revelation. It's perfect, and you feel like a million dollars wearing it.  Online ordering is easy, but it doesn't give you the chance to try on 6 dresses, one after another. OMG, I think I'm going have to go clothes shopping at an actual store! 

I remember going to a wedding years ago where my sister-in-law's gray haired mother wore a red dress. She look great in it. I took her picture and told her I'd never seen her look more beautiful, and I sincerely meant it. The dress was simple, flattering, and RED. Old ladies should wear red clothes, don't you think? It's a kick-ass, powerful color. 

Here's that picture of her, wasn't she gorgeous? I want a dress just like that.  

Happy New Year!

Ah yes, 2023. I'm looking forward to it. I hope you are, too.

Here are some photos I took on Lake Apopka Wildlife Drive the other day.

Those darn cookies

Christmas Eve is always my favorite time part of the holiday, and this one was especially festive and fun. We went to our daughter's house for a lovely dinner and good cheer. Hilarity ensued. The grandkids wore matching pajamas. Everyone was happy. I've experienced Christmas Eve 71 times, and on a scale from 1 to 10, I'd give this a 10.

On Christmas Day they came here for a mid-afternoon meal and presents. That was also a good time, despite the fact that most of us were up by 5 a.m. and needed a nap. My only issue is that no one ate even one of my cookies. Not one. So that's it. I'm done making a ridiculous variety of Christmas cookies. Done, I tell you! 

To be fair, my daughter makes cookies, too. I imagine they were sick of sweets by mid-afternoon on Christmas Day. All the more reason to pass the torch to the next generation in future years. There comes a time, and all that.  

Now they are all staring at me, waiting to be eaten.
I feel kind of sorry for them.