Attack of the Satellite

Day 2 of satellite television.

I am holed up in the office, refusing to come out until Hubster STEPS AWAY FROM THE REMOTE. We're in a crisis situation here, and we may have to call in the Intervention Team shortly.

I fear for minds of the male inhabitants of my home.

The Boy is blockaded in the master bedroom with another television and satellite receiver. I know this because I saw him go in there yesterday. HE NEVER CAME OUT.

Me? I'm sitting here at the desk with another television and receiver, only mine isn't even turned on.

The male gene pool is flawed, my friends. Terribly flawed.

But at least they're leaving my computer alone.

That'll Teach Me

I like to talk. I like to listen. I like to talk and listen to friends. Especially when they have interesting accents and live in foreign lands that I'd like to visit someday.

And it almost got me into trouble.

Sigh.

I'm not used to calling internationally, but got a wild hair to do just that around 2:15 a.m. one morning. I just knew Linds would be up and about, being the early riser I was sure she was.

So I called her.

It was 8:15 a.m. her time, and the sleepyhead was still in bed! IMAGINE!! It took her a while to shake the cobwebs out from between her ears, and even though she'd had no coffee she gradually woke up enough to hold up her end of the conversation. We chatted and solved the problems of the world until around 3 a.m. my time - 9 a.m. hers. 45 minutes in total.

And I didn't think another thing about it, other than I'd had a perfectly lovely conversation with a perfectly lovely person and I really needed to get some shut-eye.

And then the other shoe dropped.

Today Hubster called me at work.

"Uh, did you call Linds the other day?" he asked.

Why yes, I had.

"Well, the long-distance provider called today. Seems as though there was an unusually large charge on our bill and they wanted to make sure it was a valid call."

Unusually large?

Gulp.

How much could it be? We'd only spoken for 45 minutes... INTERNATIONALLY....

Uh oh.

"Turns out it was around $75.00. WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING?"

Good question. Maybe that it wouldn't be that much?

"Thankfully, they have an international plan that they'll let us put on that will take it down to $3.15 instead. I just wanted to let you know you are somewhat of an airhead sometimes."

Duly noted, dear. Duly noted.

Oh, Oh, Oh, Ice-Cold Milk And An Oreo Cookie...

I want a cookie.

I deserve a cookie. Or four. It isn't enough that I had a hot fudge sundae made with peppermint ice cream tonight after two helpings of soup for dinner.

I WANT a COOKIE.

I think it's the hibernation thing coming out in me. Cold = EAT. Of course, Hot = EAT, and Warm = EAT, and Tepid = EAT, so basically Anytime = EAT.

No wonder I'm the size of the Goodyear Blimp.

Of course, I was extremely good today, nutritionally speaking. That is, if you don't count the hot fudge sundae. Whole grain cereal for breakfast, hot and sour soup for lunch, and a hearty vegetable beef soup for dinner, heavy on the vegetables and light on the beef. Homemade, at that.

But it's now around midnight, and the Oreo Monster is lurking. There's ice-cold milk in the fridge, and I'm thinking I deserve an award for staying up so late to get laundry done for tomorrow.

Watch out, Oreos. You are not long for this world...

Kickin' Butt and Takin' Names

Oh, the fun, it never ends.

Today was no exception.

This morning, after over 24 hours without caffeine or chocolate, I was subjected to a chemical stress test. Seems as though the last one without chemicals wasn't detailed enough, so they wanted to get a better picture of things.

So to speak.

And it added to my stress and general anxiety not one whit that they ordered the results as "RUSH" - not one whit. Because I was already a nervous wreck when I went in for the test to begin with. You see, they left me waiting in the waiting room for over an hour before they called me back to do this little thing. And I can't tell you how much that helped my overall well-being and outlook on what little life I thought I had left as I walked down the longest yard to the test that meant my certain doom.

Not that I'm the least bit pessimistic or anything.

Actually, the test itself wasn't nearly as bad as I'd imagined it to be. I would do it again over a regular stress test in a heartbeat.

So to speak.

Afterwards I picked up knee x-rays to take to the orthopedic guy. Since the report from the imaging place was degenerative osteoarthritis, I was expecting him to prescribe some anti-inflammatory medication. At worst I expected him to suggest some kind of shots.

The verdict? Surgery.

Seems as though he believes I have a torn meniscus, and that requires arthroscopic surgery to repair. I have an MRI scheduled for Tuesday to confirm, and a followup appointment the next Tuesday.

(muttermuttermuttermuttermutter)

He's given me a 10-year guarantee on the surgery, which is a plus. It would be better to not have it in the first place, but I'll take the guarantee.

Because, as we all know, it's hard to kick butt without a good knee.

There Is No Joy In Mudville

It was not the stellar day I had hoped it would be.

Apparently, someone in Santa Monica, CA has decided to steal my debit card.

It started off with a phone call from Incredible Edibles, letting me know that the huge fruit basket I'd ordered for Antwonnaya Johnson in Sacramento could not be delivered because my debit card didn't go through. Would I like to give them another card number?

Uh, no. I think not.

I got all the information I could from them, then went to check out my online statement. Sure enough, my balance was zero. Two days ago there was a little less than $2000 in there.

I called Visa immediately and had the card shut down. The perpetrators had already tried four times to withdraw cash from different ATMs and failed. As it was, they spent several hundred dollars on clothing, gift baskets, computer software and other items to clean me out.

The one saving grace to this whole thing is that Visa said they will cover every last cent.

Can I get a HALLELUJAH! from the congregation???!!!

That seemed to set the tone for the day. The washer, dryer and television which were supposed to be delivered between 10:30 and 12:30 didn't show up until 1:30. I was snippy with the delivery guy, and had to apologize and explain why. Then it seemed as if everyone immediately wanted to know how everything worked and all the ins and outs of everything all at the same time, even before I had a chance to read any of the manuals. The Boy HAD to wash clothes IMMEDIATELY. Hubster couldn't understand why we couldn't get the television to get all the channels it was supposed to. The Boy wanted to know how to add detergent. Hubster didn't like the way the picture looked, and could we adjust it?

I was about to scream.

And then it was almost time for the fridge to come, and we hadn't cleaned out the old one yet. We barely finished as the delivery guys walked in the door. I was, of course, mortified when they pulled out the old fridge and I saw all the crud growing on the floor. I started cleaning immediately, but couldn't finish before they had the new one ready to install. They were kind enough to leave it out so I could clean and then push it in before they left.

But before I could get it loaded up, the questions started again.

"How long does it take for a load to wash? How about to dry?"

"Is there anything we can do to get rid of the shadow on his face? Did you find out about the UHF channels yet?"

And then my head exploded. The end.

Not really.

I actually got through the day without murdering anyone, maiming anyone, or driving off a cliff. I think that qualifies as a good day.

I can't wait to go back to work tomorrow.

Sheets, Towels, and Dead Animal

Today was Day Two of the house clean out at Mom's.

We started out by having coffee, a worthy pursuit in and of itself, then decided to tackle my old room. Of course, it hasn't been my room for 34 years, but it's my room nonetheless. And before that it was our room, because Sis and I shared it for some ten or so years.

Packed into the small, 10' X 10' room was a double bed, dresser with mirror, chest of drawers, and nightstand. Opening the drawers was a feat worthy of a magician. Maneuvering around the furniture, a contortionist.

One drawer held socks. Easy. That went to the giveaway sack. Then there were more Christmas packagings, ribbon, scarves, and various items of clothing. A fake-fur collar from some coat we nicknamed Dead Animal. Simple enough.

But then we came to the sets of sheets.

Twin, Full and Queen sizes, anywhere from new to forty years old. Some of the older ones were still in the brand-new packaging. All in all there were probably twenty to thirty sets of sheets. And that doesn't count the towels. We won't even go into those.

You could certainly tell Mom was a Depression baby.

And though it seemed a shame to do so, we sacked up all the clothing she had in this second closet. Mom had great taste in clothes, and looked great when she dressed up for church or meetings. This was her dress-up closet. All of the clothing and shoes she had will be given away to charity.

We did well with this second room. I only broke down a couple of times. Once when we came upon a sweatshirt she wore for many years that pretty much shouted out "MOM!" to me. I kept it. Another time was when we were going through a drawer in the living room and found the Christmas list she'd written out of what she was buying for the family last year.

I think we've decided to sell her Hummel and Lowell Davis figurines on eBay, and possibly the coin glass collection as well. Neither of us want them. I honestly don't know if we'll have enough left over for an auction by the time we get done, but certainly for a sale. The thing is, I don't know if I want to run a sale or not. Seeing all those people pawing over Mom's stuff? Not high on my list of desirable pursuits. We may have to call someone else in to do that.

Monday the new refrigerator, microwave, washer, dryer and television will be delivered.

And I'll still wish we were hulking along with the old, decrepit stuff and that Mom was still here.

What Else Would You Expect?

Today while I was at lunch I received a telephone call.

"Hello, this is Gina (not her real name) from Belson Funeral Home (not their real name, either). We were just callin' to find out how thangs are goin'?"

How "thangs" are "goin'"?? Hmmm....let me think on that one for a minute.

"Well, Gina...she's still dead."

Silence on the other end of the line, then, "Ah don't believe Ah've ever heard that one before."

Obviously she's never dealt with someone like me before. I think she thought I was rather callous as I laughed out loud. What else am I supposed to do? Cry out my sorrows to a total stranger who is over 250 miles away at the moment? I wonder what she would have done if I'd broken down in a weeping mass of hysteria, bemoaning the fact that Mom was gone and I just couldn't stand to live another DAY or take another BREATH without her here.

Poor thing.

I don't mean to belittle the grief thing. It's real, and it hurts. A lot. But honestly, what do these people, the same ones who made the mistake of giving Mom the Groucho eyebrows when all we asked for was a little bit of eyeliner, think they're doing? It's not as if they're trained counselors or anything. Gina is a receptionist and bookkeeper. And for goodness sake, if they were, why on earth are they waiting a month and a half after the fact to see how we are?

But hey, they're sending us a book, embossed with Mom's name, free of charge.

Whoopee.

In other news, I'm leaving now to go pick up Mom's wedding rings that have been resized to fit my fat fingers.

So Gina? Thangs are fine. Jes' fine.

Thanks, Mom.

2009 has become the Year of Ending Debt.

Or thereabouts.

Thanks to Mom, we will be able to pay off all of our outstanding bills save one. We'll be able to purchase the oh-so-sorely-needed furniture for the living room, whose current sofa and chairs would be refused by Goodwill in a heartbeat. We will replace old and decrepit appliances. And we'll put much into savings and retirement. We've already given God back His part of what we've received so far, and look forward to being able to give more in the future as well as save more.

And I'd give every penny and more to have her back, whole and healthy again.

Today I stopped by the jewelry store where I had dropped off her wedding and engagement rings to be sized. I wanted to pay off the sizing fees so I could start wearing them. As soon as they brought out the envelope with the rings and I saw the band of that engagement ring that had been worn so long it had broken, tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

It was one of those hit-you-in-the-gut kind of moments you don't see coming.

But it's getting better.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her. Not one. But the crying spells are much less frequent now. The hurt is there, but bearable.

Sis and I cleaned out her room last Saturday, decided who would take what, what we would sell, and laughed about the enormous amounts of air freshener and jeans she had accumulated over the years. What on earth does one person do with thirty-three pairs of jeans??? Sis will be making quilts with them. We're still up in the air about the fourteen boxes of two refills each for the Bath and Bodyworks Wallflowers air fresheners.

That was just Mom.

We can't wait to see what other surprises await us as we go through the rest of the house, room by room.

For now, I'm thanking God for being so blessed to have her in the first place.

And Mom?

Thank you.

When Life Hands You Lemons...

It isn't often that I receive awards for the mediocre content found within the walls of this blog, so I tend to tell you when it does happen so that you can share in my joy.

All two times. :)

This time I have received The Lemonade Award from my friend Singing Owl at The Owl's Song. The purpose of this award is to give it to someone who is showing gratitude or a good attitude ("if life hands you lemons, make lemonade") within their life or blog.

Singing Owl's nomination read "(Chris) is not bubbling over with happiness right now. She is sad, but that is because she has had a miserable year. She needs some time to get back on her feet and then Chris will be making lemonade from the lemons again, sharing insight and wisdom and funny stuff and making me laugh with how she can tell a story of a disaster and make it humorous."

Thanks, SO. I hope to be back in the humor saddle again on a permanent basis soon. The wisdom is doubtful, though. I think you have to have that to begin with before you can lose it...

The rules are these:

1) put the logo on your blog
2) nominate blogs that show great attitude and/or gratitude.
3) have your friends pass it along to more bloggers!

And so with that, I hereby nominate Linds of Rocking Chair Reflections. She's been through the mill this past year and longer, but refuses to give up HOPE, her word for the year. Please pray for her as she travels to Bath on Monday to visit a specialist regarding the CRPS and grade 4 osteoarthritis she suffers in her knee. It hasn't been pretty for her, but rather than dwell on it she's been a help to others - me most of all.

Well done, Linds!

I Am Alive And Well And Living In An Undisclosed Location To Protect My Superhero Status

Welcome back, Interpeeps!

It's been a long dry spell here, but much has taken place. Allow me to elaborate, because if I don't I'll be writing about facial moisturizer, a topic which I assure you will have you on the very edge of your seat for a total of 3.5 seconds before you doze off into a fitful slumber.

You're welcome.

As you may recall, when last you visited here I mentioned something about eleven days of vacation. Actual VACATION. Blissful, not having to actually do ANYTHING, vacation. That's coming to an end after tomorrow, and I'll be headed back to work. So this is kind of a report of WHAT I DID ON MY WINTER VACATION, by ME.

Monday I slept in. Then long about noon or so I decided to take a shower. (Believe me, it gets better...) Later that afternoon I met Cindabel for immense amounts of Mexican food and beverages, followed by furniture shopping. It was quite comical to see us giggling as we tried to find suitable living room furniture for my household while under the influence of adult beverages with the help of geeky salespeople.

We know how to paint the town red, we do.

Tuesday was my birthday. Sis took me out to Starbucks to celebrate that morning, then we did estate-settling stuff until after noon. When I came home, I had a wonderful call from Linds, and Hubster and the kids gave me a present.

A GPS!!!!

I will no longer be lost! At least, I hope not. We took it out for a test drive, and I mistook what the lady was saying. She said "Turn right in point five miles..." and I thought she said "Turn right in five miles..." Hubster said I'm probably the only person on earth who will still get lost even with a GPS. The sad part is that I don't doubt it for a minute.

The best part of the birthday, bar none, was the cake Sis baked for me (German chocolate, like Mom used to), and my last birthday card from Mom. She had cards written out and signed for the family up through my birthday this year before she had the first stroke in June. What a gift that was!!!

Wednesday was another busy day with a cardiologist appointment. Hopefully no chemical stress test on the horizon, just a CT scan instead if the insurance will approve it. Thursday was busy as well. More shopping, followed by another night out with the girls. Kitti, HeyJules and I met for pizza and gab, and a good time was had by all.

Friday Hubster and I went to lunch and then back to the place with the geeky salesperson that Cindabel and I scoped out on Monday. He tried out the "sit" of the furniture, and we bought it. I stuck around to pick out the fabric while he went to his mother's house, then went shopping for a red electric can opener.

There is no such animal on the face of the earth. At least in any store within forty miles of here.

As I said, this post is packed with excitement.

Today Sis and I will meet at Mom's at 9 a.m. to begin the dismantling of her house. We'll take it slowly, but we intend to have the house up for sale this Spring. It's not going to be easy, this task, but I think we can get through it together. We have each other to lean on. That's a good thing.

The things I didn't accomplish on this vacation?

1. Cleaning
2. Wallpapering
3. Laundry
4. Dusting
5. Mopping
6. Cooking

The things that will still be there to do? All of the above. The guilt I feel for not doing them? NONE.

Well, maybe a little for the wallpaper...