A Christmas Eve Tradition

I had never touched a golf club until we moved to Florida a little over 3 years ago.  Once fully settled in with the palm trees, Lincoln Continentals, and two-for-one drink specials, I decided that I would become a golfer.  It wasn't hard.  Hit the white ball, say a string of poetic profanity, rinse and repeat for 4 hours.  Then follow that by rewarding myself with cold beer.  My kind of sport!  Couple that with the fact that I have some limitations due to a couple of fused ankle joints, and this sport allows you to drive around to get to the next  point, well, it's a win-win!

Today marks my first golf outing post sub-talar ankle fusion, and I am so excited!  I could barely get through my last round of golf, 5 days pre-op almost 9 months go.  The love of my life have golfed every Christmas and New Year's Eve for the last three years, and I didn't want to break that tradition.  I feel strong enough to get through the round, and believe that my ankle will hold up nicely.

We'll be golfing at the world renowned World Woods Golf Club that's just a few short miles down the road from us.  They have beautiful grounds and friendly staff.  There are three courses to choose from, and even as a beginner there is something there for me.  

The weather is beautiful here in Florida today, and that will make my Christmas Eve round of golf that much better!!!


Edit:  The round wasn't great, but it wasn't horrible.  I survived without any major pain while hitting the ball.  I did have some pain/discomfort while walking around and general fatigue, but what do you expect when you have had a 9 month lay-off due to major ankle surgery?  I'm happy with the day.  And it was  beautiful!  The sun broke through the fog and turned my skin pink.  

The 5th Hole - one of my favorites.  Massive downhill with waste area to the right.

Golf Course Squirrel - a.k.a. fox squirrel or monkey squirrel.  These guys are so much fun to watch and they are totally fearless of the golf balls flying down the fairway.  

The Shed at MacRae's

This little gem on the Homosassa River is one of my favorite places to waste time.  An open air bar with friendly folks, cheap cold beer, great music, MacRae's is a destination.  On any given day you can find bikers, bankers, fishermen, and women dripping with diamonds.  The gentle mingle with the tough, and above the music all you hear is laughter. 
I spent Saturday afternoon and evening at MacRae's with the love of my life and our two best friends.  We had a few laughs, watched a cool Christmas boat parade, and enjoyed the beautiful Florida weather.
Perfect, bliss, memorable.

The Answer Machine

Oh, how far we’ve come.  Just the other day I was fondly recalling a family card game.  It was cutthroat, loud, and I recall some cheating going on by one particular person.  Conversations were ebbing and flowing, matching the game’s ups and downs.  Then, as certain as Christmas, a question would eventually come up that no one knew the correct answer to.  Well, at least two people were certain that they knew the correct answer as the challenges of the others in our family game night clutch besieged their notions. 

Then, without fail, the mad dash to the living room would divert our attentions from gaming to truth seeking.  Jostling and page shuffling would ensue as we groped the encyclopedia and ferreted out the answer.

Errrr, encyclo – what!?  Yeah, it seems that you either need to hit the correct ripple in time or step into the way-back machine to remember this...early 1990’s. Yep, a grand ol’ time when computers and their invasive technology weren’t in every home, much less at the finger tip. 

Yep, manual research was the way to find answers.  How those burning questions seared our hearts and plagued our souls during family game night. The correct answer must be found.  The repercussions for not finding the correct answers would result in casualties.  Correct answer—NOW!  The truth must be found for it seemed blackened eyes or, the much worse, bruised ego depended upon it.  Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but I do recall a particular Parcheesi game that got way out of hand one time, but I digress…

Then came the time, etched in my mind forever, the first time a friend “paid up” to find the answer to one of those burning question.  The place: Flying Saucer bar in Little Rock with the Internet on her new fangled cell phone.  Believe that?  Wow, Internet on a phone. The burning question: How old is Olivia Newton-John? Oh, the gravity answering that question.  Wagers in pints and drinking penalties were exchanged, and then silence fell as we all watched the phone “thinking” in the middle of the table. 

Another world, no, but certainly another time. Today answers are at our fingertips, literally.  I can answer burning questions, averting bodily and financial harm, on just about any subject my brain can conjure in a matter of seconds now. Easy, painless.

Recently, I discovered InfoBarrel while searching for truth concerning one of those burning questions. InfoBarrel? Why InfoBarrel?  Well, the question was an exact match, just what I was looking for.  The plain Google search is great, don’t get me wrong, but InfoBarrel was informative.  InfoBarrel employs “crowdsourcing” for information.

Crowdsourcing uses everyday people to find the answers to questions people are searching for.  People like you and me seek the information and write about it in our own way.  I find the articles on InfoBarrel to be both more informative and relevant in many ways.  There are some real gems there and sometimes the plain, efficient style of typical information sharing is thrown to the wind and an artist speaks.

The other reason I like InfoBarrel so much, is that I have a special place in my heart for aspiring and struggling artists.  I feel that someone who is working diligently at creating their art, and sure, trying to make a penny or two while doing it, really deserves the clicks and the link love. 

Now, I wonder what happened to those encyclopedias…as I recall, one game night we found a stash of Jackson’s in there….

Friendships in the Workplace

I have been working a full time job for over half of my life now, and the impact that these jobs have had on my life has varied over the years.  I've been the new person, the veteran, the middle of the pack, and the leader.  I've also made friendships along the way that have been maintained through many years in between each of these jobs.  Certainly, technology has helped those friendships with the creation of Facebook.


While I haven't had a lot of jobs in my working tenure, I've kept the ones I've had for long periods of time.  From a management perspective this is a very good track record.  When you work in the same place for an extended period of time you  tend to gravitate toward those people who are most like you, and those that you can relate to the most.  


I've been at my current employer for over 3 years.  For the first year I didn't make many "work friends".  My office was in a remote location, and it wasn't really possible.  Once I was brought into the  inner-circle of my current office, I forged two close friendships.  Both of these women are strong-willed, successful, outspoken and funny - kind of like me.


I've decided that as of this point moving forward that I will never make close friendships at work ever again.  Why that's just silly you are thinking.  Yeah, it probably is, but I like to think of myself as having a stony soul, but below the stone is a heart and feelings.  My feelings are of sadness this week.  


Those two friends are leaving.  One left on Thursday, one in three weeks.  Each friend has exciting and new opportunities that I am very happy about, but I can't help but feel sorry for myself, just a little bit.


My "girl gang" as we fondly call ourselves has become a party of 1 -- me.  These two women are rays of sunshine in a sometimes cloudy environment, they are the cool breeze in hell, and they keep me sane enjoying coming back each day.  


They both will be missed very much.

Ozello Arts and Crafts Festival

The "Festival" season here in  Florida kicks off around October.  Almost every weekend you can find an arts and crafts festival of some sort with a theme - from cooters to manatees to strawberries - you name it, we can probably find it.   This weekend we went to the Ozello Arts and Crafts Festival in Ozello, Florida.  

You start out on US Hwy 19, head down W Ozello Trail, along winding roads, across saw grass flats until you find the festival...they aren't very hard to miss.

While we were at the festival, we saw lots of interesting sights, such as:

You end up seeing the same vendors, the same booths, and the same crowd at many of these festivals, but each one is endearing in it's own way.  We did our obligatory lap, bought nothing, and instead of turning left to head home, we turned right.  This is where the road took us:

It was an enjoyable day, and we look forward to checking out more festivals as the season progresses.

No Thanksgiving Glut For Me

When it comes to holidays, the love of my life and I have spent our share of them being the perfect host and hostess.  We have had all family members and a few strays at our home more times than we can count.  No guest ever had to lift a finger other than bringing their fork to mouth.  Those times are memorable, but they do end up taking their toll in the stress department. 


When we downsized and moved to Florida we decided that we would do things different and make life easier for ourselves.  We've cooked one big holiday for the family each year and left the rest to chance.  Let someone else take the reigns, find a restaurant to eat at - didn't matter.  Last year's restaurant was over priced and crappy at best.  We had to find another alternative.

This year our Uncle Jack moved into an apartment at a retirement community.  This has been his first time being on his own, and what better way to celebrate the holiday and Uncle Jack's new found independence than for the family to descend upon his residence for the Thanksgiving Feast.  


After paying our 8 bucks per head, our party of 6 was ushered to our table.  We picked and climbed our way through the obstacle course of durable medical equipment while dodging power scooter mounted seniors, but finally found our table right next to the salad bar and within sight of the dessert cart.  Oh pumpkin pie how you tease me so!  There was only one tense moment when one of Uncle Jack's normal table mates seemed like she wanted to throw down because she was forced to sit elsewhere.  Come to find out later, she's a pretty big pro at being displaced, as she was a Hurricane Katrina survivor who was relocated to Citrus County.  


Dinner was simple and tasty, and while I think most of us at the table could have used another portion or three of turkey and stuffing, we didn't push back from the table wobbly and gorged, intoxicated with gluttony.  It was actually quite refreshing to feel normal knowing there wouldn't be a fight for the couch and control of the television remote.


I found this article on holiday weight management and thought it summed up some of my current ideas on how to deal with holiday glut.  Not that I would really follow any of these things, but in the spirit of the holidays I may give one or two a shot.  I mean, I already did tip number 3 in the article, but if I am perfectly honest with myself, I only did it because I am heading out to the bar to watch football today and eat greasy bar food and drink my weight in the hollow calories known as BEER!  Thanksgiving Friday is a Football Day!  Go Hogs, Beat LSU!

Time Flies

Time sure flies when you're not lying on the couch feeling sorry for yourself!  

It's been what, three, four months since my last non-follow through with pictures post.  Let me tell you, baby rabbits grow really freaking fast.  I mean, if we could insert the DNA of those critters into human babies...there might be a chance of people like me actually having a kid, especially since I won't need to deal with that 18 year commitment and all.

So much has happened in the last few months, that I don't even know where to begin.  Bullet points are best for situations like these, because I really don't think I have the time or energy to actually write it all down and do I want to take the chance that it won't even be read in its entirety.  

• I have pretty much been told by my surgeon to go forth into the world and do what I am able to do.  This doesn't leave me with a lot of options, but I do wear matching shoes to work, I am able to go shopping if I choose, I can do stuff in our yard, and I can walk my precious little snowflake of a dog.  I still have bad days, but my good days out number them.  I've also come to the realization that I'll never be able to do a lot of the things that most normal people can't, but hey, I've never really been normal (more on that in a bit).
• I took a whirlwind trip back to Arkansas and came to the realization that you can take the girl out of the city.  I swore for the last three years that living in the "country" was going to kill me.  I didn't like the bugs, the snakes, and most of all, I hated the sheer quiet of it all.  Well, this little trip back to The Rock, well, let's just say it was too loud for me.  I couldn't wait to get back to my quaint little house and my quiet little life in Florida.  Don't get me wrong, I miss my Mom back in AR and I miss my friends as well, but they really need to get their head's on straight and move to the land of the palm tree.
• I got married.  This probably should be the biggest bullet point you can find, but honestly, it wasn't anything big at all.  It wasn't really anything.  We found out that you can get married in Florida by a notary, and being the unconventional never do anything normal couple that we are, well this just seemed fitting.  But, we didn't just go to the Pack N Post, we found someone we trust, found a quiet corner of a beach, and said our three lines of vows and exchanged rings ceremoniously.  It was short, sweet, simple, and just how we really wanted it to be.  It pissed a few people off  (okay, it really only pissed one person off), but after knowing each other for almost 22 years and living together for almost 17, I think doing it any other way would have been a joke for us.  I will never regret the way we got married.  A wedding is a day, a marriage is all the rest of the stuff.

So, that's the highlights.  I'm hoping to get back into blogging again on a regular basis.  I have more time to do the things I want to do now, so writing is at near the top of my list.

I've actually missed my little blog...a safe place to be.

Wabbit

While I was bringing in the pooch from watering his favorite tree I noticed a rabbit very close to the house.  She usually hangs out in the yard or in the driveway.  When she finally noticed me noticing her, she took off.  I called to the love of my life to come see how close the rabbit was, and that's when I noticed the hole!  And the stuff in the hole was moving!  WE HAVE BABIES!!!  We got close enough to see that they don't have any fur and their eyes aren't open yet, so they are pretty new.  I didn't want to totally freak them out tonight and it was getting dark, so photographic evidence will have to wait until tomorrow.

We've dealt with baby bunnies in our yard several years ago.  The way the Mama rabbit takes care of them is hiding them pretty much in plain sight.  They have no odor, and the Mama only nurses them 2-3 times a day.  She stays far enough away, but close enough to draw any attention away from the nest on her.  The bunnies are old enough and have the instincts to leave the nest at around 3 weeks of age.  

I can't wait to share pictures!!!

Once Upon A Time...

...in the middle of the 'hood, I had a garden.  The love of my life filled it with flowers and fish for us to enjoy.  It was peaceful and beautiful.  

Happy Dance

I am doing a happy dance!  Had a great visit with my surgeon yesterday, and he freed me from my Velcro prison - as I see fit to do so.  I came right home, stripped off the blasted boot and tried to take my first steps in over three months.  Yeah, that didn't work out so well.  I psyched myself totally out and ended up doing a half shuffle thing for two feet.  But, I guess I set myself up for a mini-fail.  I was in a sock on a not very padded Oriental rug that sits on a ceramic tile floor.  A couple of hours later I put on both of my trusty old Asics and walked around the house.  It was the weirdest sensation that is difficult to describe, and my foot felt as light as a feather.  Today I woke up, put on my shoes and haven't been in the boot all day.  I have also spent the majority of the day sitting around doing some work for the family business and haven't had to walk a ton.  I definitely see myself continuing to use the blasted boot for a few more weeks when I have to do a lot of walking and while working for the majority of the day.    


We did take a trip to the post office and to Publix for some ice cream.  I parked in my gimpy spot, walked in the door by the ice cream aisle, walked down the aisle, picked out my Starbucks ice cream, checked out and walked back to the car.  That was by far one of the hardest parts so far.  I have lost so much muscle mass over the years with all of my ankle issues, and now even more with this latest surgery.  I have very little control over when any type of nerve pain strikes, and there are all sorts of little nagging pains in ligaments, tendons, and very, very weak muscles.  I am also very aware that my walking will be a lot different than before.  I had the large up and down joint in my ankle fused 6 years ago, but still had that next joint down that was able to give me movement and give and take in my walking.  Now I have nothing there.  I'm totally fused down to my heel, and I fear this is going to make learning to walk normally a little more difficult for me this time.  I plan to push myself though - I have to or I fear going down the rabbit hole of the ultimate pity party.


I finished my USF course this week!  Yay for me!  All I have left is my case study and my final exam.  I should have the case study completed by the end of the weekend and then get that final done next week.  Once this class is over, I can dedicate more time to making something out of this blog, because it's quite boring with me just rambling on all the time.  


I haven't ventured out with my camera this week as I had planned.  We had some massive rain the first part of the week and it was just too hectic.  Maybe tomorrow morning while the light is good I can get something in.  Speaking of tomorrow,  I am really looking forward to lunch tomorrow!  My bestie and her husband are coming up and we are planning lunch with her parents on the water!  Should be some fun laughs and a great way to spend a hot, Florida summer afternoon!

Another Week!!!

I am happy to report that I actually followed through and accomplished a couple of my goals from last week.  I totally ditched the crutch AND the cane.  The cane was just not working for me, and I ended up carrying it like little old ladies do and not using it for what it was intended.  I'm able to really get around well this week.  Had some pretty bad nerve regeneration pain this week which I haven't had in awhile, but that just means I'm healing.  I will see my surgeon this Thursday, so hopefully I will be booted from my boot.  This thing is literally a drag.  


I found my desk - for about an hour on Wednesday, but unfortunately lost it again.  It's better than it has been in the last 2 months since returning to work, but still not my normal OCD standards.  I guess I'm destined to be one of those messy work desk people. 


I did not finish my USF course, but I have actually been really sick - still.  So sick that I dragged my ass to the doctor on Thursday morning.  My little allergy attack turned into a nice little sinus  infection.  I'm now taking Amoxicillin and praying my intestines don't turn inside out.


I am figuring out my new phone.  


Spent a few hours checking out some local yard sales yesterday.  Came away with a cool vintage necklace and some clamp lid mason jars that I've been wanting for my buttons and a gift idea for the sister of the love of my life who turns 50 in November.  Today was a lazy day.  We were supposed to hit the Tampa ComiCon, but due to my illness and gimpyness, we settled for Gone With the Wind.  The love of my life has never watched it, so while we still have streaming Netflix, he indulged me and checked it out.  I never get tired of it, but am certain he'll never watch it again.


So for the upcoming week I want to get that USF course completed, get de-booted, start photographing my thrift and yard sale hauls, and get a little better at this blog thing.

Bad Blogger

I've been a bad blogger this week, because I haven't updated with all the exciting milestones and the exciting life I have been leading.  Where the hell is that sarcasm font when you need it.


I've graduated to using one crutch exclusively.  I am really, really wanting to ditch the crutch and use that fancy old person cane I have sitting by the door, but I am using that crutch as a crutch.  It makes me feel safe.


I drove for the first time in almost three months this week!  I am no longer requiring the use of my Sherpa on a daily basis.  Now I get to schlep my own shit into the office every day.  I only hope that the afternoon rain showers stop at 4:30 for at least 3 minutes, because that's how long it takes me to get to my freaking car.   Oh, and I saw the inside of the grocery store for the first time in 3 months - thank goodness they didn't change the layout on me.  


I had another successful company management meeting. I threw an awesome day of education and exciting benchmarks for our over 60 strong management team.  Great fun and laughs were had by all!


I had the BEST weekend with the love of my life.  It doesn't matter what we do or where we go, I just love spending my free time with him.  We had a great day yesterday zig-zagging across the county checking out some yard sales.  We met some very interesting characters, a few of which will certainly make it into my book one day.  Oh and found some really cool vintage stuff!


My goal for the week is to ditch the crutch, use the cane, clean off my disaster zone of a desk, finish my USF course, and keep trying to figure out how to use my new Android phone (I swear if I don't figure it out, I'm going to hang it all up and just get the Jitterbug and some Depends...).

Just Not A Good Day

I don't know what sucks more:


Still being dependent on crutches to walk.


Having a two day allergy attack that lowers my already low immune system and getting a        major cold that has put me down.


Getting stung by a freaking scorpion at 1:30 AM  


OR!!!  


All three!  Yeah, that pretty much sums it for me the last couple of days.  I don't know if I want to laugh or cry or rip the sinus cavities out of my head.

Small Steps

I took small steps today.  


I made the bed without my crutches. 


I walked Murphy out to pee on his favorite tree with just one crutch.  That was kinda scary, and won't be trying that again.


I worked in the kitchen and was able to move around without any crutches.  Same thing with the laundry!


It did not kill me, it did not make me cry, and it didn't really hurt all that much either.  


It was scary as hell, but I did it, and I am proud of me!

Put One Foot In Front of the Other

I was given the clearance to start the walking process on Monday - holy hell is it ever a process.  I guess after not putting any pressure onto an appendage for over 10 weeks that it would take a little while to get used to the walking thing again.  
I do okay with the crutches and a little weight - not enough to really hurt, but enough to know that I'm putting some pressure down on something that is completely different than it was a couple of months ago.  I keep reminding myself that it's not going to happen overnight and continue being patient.
I am so anxious to ditch the crutches, because there are so many things I want to do.  I want to dig out my sewing machine, I want to photograph my flowers and the beautiful tortoises that hang out in the front yard every day, and I want to walk my wee little furry friend Murphy.  It's been so long since we walked together - longer than I can remember.  
I want to stop looking like a dummy at the thrift shops with hangers hanging on my crutches.  I want to get back to making my bed every day and helping the love of my life with house chores and dinner.  I want to drive again and I want to stop my daily fight with the restroom door at work. 

Slow and steady, push myself, but know my limitations, right? 


I think I'll sing some Chubby Checker this week when I practice!

Safe Keeping

I was talking with The Head Rat from The Rat's Pack last night and this morning about safely storing some old baseball cards he has up for sale.  
He put the card in in a sandwich bag.  He then put the card in the sandwich bag into an envelope.  I suggested putting the card in the sandwich bag in the envelope into a box just to be on the safe side.  He suggested wrapping the card in the sandwich bag in the envelope in the box in bubble wrap.
And it just got more ridiculous from there.  By the end of it we were both laughing hysterically and the baseball card was safe inside a military tank which was wrapped of course, in bubble wrap.


If you have a minute, check out The Head Rat's booth over on eCrater.  He has some cool stuff that he's getting rid of from his childhood along with some sports memorabilia.  If you are looking for something specific, drop him a line over there or let me know here.  We always run into some crazy stuff down here in The Sunshine State.

Via: The Rat's Pack

What’s In A Name? An Introduction.

I’ve never really introduced myself here, and thought that it was high time I did so.  My name is Tuesday.  Yes, you read that correctly, it’s my real name; it’s what is printed on my birth certificate, and what I have gone by for the last 40 years. 

I’m going to start by answering the first question that probably popped in your head.  No, I was not born on a Tuesday.  I was born in Northern New York, during a massive snow storm, on a Sunday Valentine’s Day afternoon.  I was a week early, and if you listen to my mother, she was convinced I was a boy.  Guess she was pretty surprised when she didn’t see any bits hanging. 

Why Tuesday?  Why not?  My mother’s given name is Kathryn, and she was called Kathy.  She said while growing up, there were always a lot of Kathy’s.  She wanted my name to be unique, something to stand out from the crowd.  Well, Tuesday certainly stands out.  Since I was a boy, the name was already decided on by both of them, William Joseph (thank goodness I was a girl), they didn’t do such a good job of hacking out the girl name.  There was NO WAY my mother was having a girl.  SURPRISE!!!!!

Dad wanted the cutesy names that my mother didn’t like of the very early 1970’s; Melissa or Melanie is what she told me in an email this morning, but I remember her telling me at one time it was Jessica or Jennifer.  Mom wanted Elizabeth or Rachael, of which my dad felt both were too old fashioned.  I guess when push came to more pushing, my mother decided that since she was doing all the work (um, pushing) that she would pick the name.  She chose Tuesday Ann, and told the nuns at the hospital to write it down, and to not allow anyone ("ahem, specifically the father Sister”) change it.

To sum that part of my introduction up, yes I love my name, no, I have never though of changing it (except maybe a brief time when I was 7 years old and wanted to be a Jessica like every other girl in my class or maybe Olivia, because then I could make out with Johnny T in my favorite movie Grease - give me a break I was 7).  It is unique, it does grab a person’s attention, and there’s not very many other’s running around with the same name.  I could bore you to tears with stories about other "unique" names people I've met over the years, but I won't. 

I am a newly minted 40 year-old, and have just recently been able to sputter those words.  They still hurt sometimes though.  I took a different route in life than many do and joined the Navy when I got out of high school.  It enlightened me, I learned from my experience, and I’m glad that I had the opportunity.  I started college when I got out of the Navy and it took me 11 years to finish.  I paid for college myself, took one or two classes at a time, and had a few bumps along the way.  When I finally decided on what I wanted to focus on, I made practically straight A’s.  I graduated with Honors from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock in 2004 with a degree in communication studies (that means I know how to communicate with people…).

Currently I am living in Florida with the love of my life, who I met over 20 years ago on a blind date, and our wee little Cairn Terrier, Murphy MacDonald, Lord of the Isle.  I work in administration at a not-for-profit organization.  One of my favorite things to do, and the inspiration for the blog title, is spending time on the beach.  I love the water, the salty sea air, the sound of the waves, the sand, and especially seashells.  A couple of years ago I started golfing, which is a lot of frustration and fun rolled into one.  If given a choice between shopping and fishing, I’ll beat you to the boat.  I could spend every day for the rest of my life fishing, catch nothing, and be a very happy girl.  I love to read.  I will be honest, I don’t read to better myself (unless I have to), I read because I want that escape from reality, whatever it may be.  I like to sew, though I’m working on perfecting (okay, getting moderately good at) that skill.  I’ve learned to crochet recently, and have all the stuff to knit, but haven’t taken that plunge yet.  I don’t like to shop.  I love thrift stores and yard sales though and can spend hours looking for something special for a small price.  

I would like my blog to be about me, but I also hope to bring my love of books, my love of the sea, my love of golf along with some other surprises to anyone out there who stumbles on it.  I would love nothing more than to see this take off into something amazingly wonderful, but I will be happy the way it is. 

Bitter

I'm bitter, and I feel bad about it.  


I am tired of well-meaning friends calling and asking me what I am up to.  You really want to know?  Well, today, I got out of bed, went to the couch, opened my laptop, and have been watching the Casey Anthony trial streaming on the Internet, pretty much non-stop.  I have not moved from the couch.  I can't tidy up the house, I can't run down to the beach, I can't help the love of my life while he's out sweating do death working in the yard.  You may recall that I am recovering from major ankle surgery.  It's been 2 months since I have walked, and frankly, I am becoming bitter.  I am tired of the rest of the world being able to go on with their lives and not have to worry about swelling and pain and crutches and handicapped parking places and stupid people who disregard someone who is hobbling around on crutches.  I am bitter because I am tired of being like this.


I feel bad because I am snapping at those closest to me when I know they mean well.  I feel bad because I know they aren't rubbing in their good times to me, they are my friends, and they are sharing life with me, as I've shared life with them.  I don't have anything to share with them though, and when I do share, I feel like I am seeking pity about my situation.  


Currently, my life is a lot of waiting.  I'm waiting for bone to fuse, bone to heal, calcification to take place.  I have to sit quietly, stay safe, and do nothing to jeopardize the work that has been done.  Waiting has become bitterness.  Of course this will pass, I will be back to my old self soon, but for now, I want to be bitter and angry.  

Might As Well Face It I’m Addicted to Blogs

There, now you have an ear worm too!

Over the last few weeks, just when I thought that I was finally getting around to reading the end of the Internet, I started reading blogs, lots of blogs.  I’ve had one or two saved over the years that I follow pretty religiously, but this recent craze of mine is, well, blog-a-lishous!  I’ve found stuff that interests me, stuff that doesn’t, people who are living out their dreams, and those who are having a tough time with life.  I’ve learned new ideas, new techniques, and new trends.

The best thing I have found from reading blog after blog after blog is inspiration.  It’s funny that in this world full of billions of people that you can find something to read, by a real person, about something that you are interested in all the while gaining a new and different type of perspective other than the same old boring one you’ve been dragging around for years.

What’s that definition of insanity; doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results?  Is that totally true?  For the most part, yes it is, but in the world of blogging there can be 50 (or even 5000) of the same type of blog, but each one will have a different outcome or result.  Why is that?  I believe that it’s one trait that we are all born with, but some people never realize it while others take it and amazing things happen.  It’s called creativity.  I’m sure there’s some study out there about creativity and the traits that one has to hold to gain maximum potential.  I mean, there really is only one Sistine Chapel, right?

I really want to work on my creative traits that I know are lurking just below the surface.  I want to be able to push back from my desk and look at my blog and see something that probably a gaggle of other people have out there, but is uniquely mine and it stands out for me.  I want to be proud of what has grown out of a whim and hopefully into something great, something that I can cultivate like a garden and watch thrive and grow. 

I want the finished product to be kind of like a piece of sea glass.  You throw broken bottle pieces into the sea, and on a beach somewhere thousands and thousands of miles away the most beautiful piece of tumbled glass that is as unique as I am is found by another creative soul who will use that piece of glass for inspiration.

I’d Like To Tell You About A Man Named Joe

A few weeks ago the love of my life became nostalgic for his late teens and pulled out the old comic book collection.  We’ve been together for just over 21 years now, and I’ve seen this collection less than 5 times.  It was fun to watch and listen to him talk about the books, as if they were old college friends.  I asked him why he stopped collecting them, and he gave the standard reply one would expect, “beer money”.  Makes sense.  My best friend and partner-in-crime used to have holes in the soles of her shoes for that same reason.

The mother of the love of my life was an antique dealer for many, many years.  The love of my life grew up being a part of this collection and selling business and knew the importance of keeping things in good shape that may later have a resale value.  This said mother is still waiting for her resale value with two storage units chocked full of antique store inventory that more than likely will never see the light of day again, but that’s another story.

So the research began.  By Sunday, he was checking out Craigslist and putting out feelers. Phone calls were received from meth’d out folks in desperate need to tell us their life story of baby daddy’s and foreclosed homes who wanted to sell their imprisoned family member’s comic book collection probably for the going rate of a hit of meth.  This little adventure was going to be fun!!!

Two Saturday’s ago the love of my life bribed me with lunch on the beach at Sloppy Joe’s to load up my crutches and a pillow in the car if I would spend the day zigzagging across the St. Petersburg peninsula to look at comic books with him.  Beach?  Food?  Sign me up!!  My only stipulation was that if the person was a hoarder like the ones on TV, I wouldn’t be going inside.  The first stop was to purchase another piece of his childhood that was stolen from him – Dungeon’s and Dragon’s manual.  Success, and he had a smile on his face!  Second stop was not as successful in that it was a young guy who was clearly being pestered by his wife to get rid of the useless comic books a buddy talked him into taking because she needed more room in their 900 square foot bungalow for her shoes.  The dude was clearly of his rocker wanting a C note for two or three boxes full of crapola.  We left without committing, and the guy called later to beg the love of my life for an offer, any offer.  He was offered $20.00, and kindly refused, saying he would be throwing them away.  Too bad, could have taken his wife out for a cocktail.

Our last stop of the day was in the North Tampa area.  We were going to meet Joe, who said he would be home after 3:00 pm.  After riding around trying to find his pad, waiting for him to show up, getting stymied at Target because all of the fatty scooters were taken, we finally met Joe.  Joe lived in the typical Florida mobile home park; tidy little areas, with about 6 streets in it, lots of pinks and greens, and really old people.  We pulled up to Joe’s mobile home, and he greeted us at the front door.  His first words were an apology, because apparently the animal hoarder next door’s cats got into his air conditioner unit, thereby leaving the air conditioning not working.  We were going through an unusual heat wave in Florida with heat indices over a hundred and the humidity hung in the air like a wet blanket.  And that normal breeze off the sea?  What breeze?  We were getting ripped off!

Joe sees that I’m all gimpy about the same time I see the steep assed stairs leading up to the front door.  I kind of peeked around him to see if he might possibly be a hoarder (he told us he had been at the flea market all day and his vehicle was jam packed full of boxes so the possibility was there), saw that it was safe and made the trek up the giant steps.  I entered into the flaming hot mobile home and the sweat instantly started.  Joe offered me a seat at the table while he took the love of my life back to see the comics.  I figured it would be safer if we were not separated, just in case something happened, ya know?  We went to the bowels of the home, to an interior room that was sealed with an eye hook and nail.

The stifling room was filled with more boxes – this must be Joe’s flea market inventory.  He showed us where the comics where, and I tried to figure out where to sit.  Two seconds later, Joe appeared with a chair for me.  Wow!  There are still some decent people in this world.  We go through the 700 plus comic as quickly as we can, sweat pouring out of all cracks and crevices on our bodies; our shirts becoming discolored from the seepage.  Then the boys get to talking.  The love of my life has this uncanny ability to draw all sorts of details from people.  I like to say he has mad skillz – yes, that’s with a Z.  He likes that.

Joe tells us about his days growing up in the Bronx just a few blocks from the Apollo Theater to his time working as an extra for The Punisher.  He said he stood just a few feet from Johnny T (my favorite Scientologist) and was surprised at how tall he is.  Joe said he does other work as an extra, and has been offered more speaking parts, but he doesn’t want to put dentures in, so he turns those down.  Did I not mention Joe only had a couple of teeth?  Yeah, he was pretty gummy with the smiles, but he had an air of confidence about him that showed he could give a rat’s ass if anyone liked it or not.

We finished the transaction without any problems.  Joe carried the comics to the door, the love of my life loaded my little Honda Civic to the hilt with them and I sat in the kitchen.  I have to admit to one moment of holy shit, I’m going to end up this guys sex slave or dart board or loaded into a pet carrier for the next few months until my foot heals enough so I can bust out of the place, but at least with no air conditioning I can lose some weight when the love of my life was outside and I was inside with Joe.  It was a fleeting thought, and quickly passed as both men made sure I was safe getting down the Mt. Everest high steps. 

We chatted a bit more outside where the 90 plus degree temperature felt like a cool breeze in hell, and I took a good look at Joe.  The toupee was a horrible match for his hair and it didn’t go well with his skin tone, but he was probably a decent looking guy when he was younger.  He had a great personality and was fun to hang out with for a bit.  It’s interesting the people you meet in your life and how you come across them.  Joe from Craigslist was memorable and kind and someone I won’t soon forget.  I also won’t ever forget that my hair was not dry from the sweat locker of home he had even with the air conditioning blasting full on for the hour drive back home!

The things we do for our hobbies!

Big shout out to The Rat's Pack of This N That Pack Rat (of www.bonanza.com and www.ecrater.com) for use of the photo!

And My Little Dog, Too

Anyone who knows anything about dog breeds know that the Terrier group can be one of the most stubborn, hard-headed, head-strong, strong-willed group of dogs on the planet.  Did I mention stubborn?
We have a Cairn Terrier.  When we tell people what breed he is they will usually give us a puzzled look.  Then we'll ask them if they remember Toto from The Wizard of Oz.  The light bulb clicks on, but dims somewhat.  Because we are mind readers, we'll say something along the lines of "yeah, betcha thought Toto was a mutt, eh?"  The light bulbs is brighter now.  
Toto was a pure bred Cairn Terrier named Terry.  Terry's first owners were not so fond of her (yes, a girl) terrier-ness, so they booted her to the curb.  You can read about Terry here on the wiki page:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terry_(dog).  Her biography is also a good read and you can pick it up here from Amazon:  http://tinyurl.com/5twlmxk

Murphy MacDonald, Lord of the Isle came into our home and our hearts in July 2008.  Our beloved Chocolate Lab, Delta Dawn, had died on May 5, and we were very lonely without a four-legged little creature in our lives.  Delta was the most obedient, well-trained dog I have ever known.  She was the love of my life's hunting buddy and my constant companion when she finally retired from duck retrieving.  
Murphy was quite possibly the cutest puppy I have ever come across in my life, and he had the sharpest teeth that rivaled the many sea creatures we've caught fishing over the years.  He was a terror on four legs, but when he would lay his head on our chest or leg and look up at us with "those" eyes, we melted and forgot about the teeth marks on our legs, the hutch, and the Pella window sills.  His cuteness has only increased over the three years of his life.
Murphy is also very smart and knows a ton of commands:  sit, stay, down, sit pretty, give me some paw, high five, speak, roll over, and the best is when we ask  him if he'd rather be a Gator or dead; he'll tip onto his side and stop breathing, playing dead.  He can stand and jump, and will give us a "bump" with his nose, and he'll walk at heel on the leash.  He does not understand the command "come" though.  Oh, he'll do it when there is food involved, but if I want him to move from one spot in the house to where I am at, he'll stand there with the most defiant face and not budge an inch.  Stubborn!
Our lab was never allowed on the furniture.  Murphy, because of the infinite cuteness factor, is pretty much allowed to do whatever pleases him.  He'll sit in the dining room chairs, on the ottoman, on the recliner, on my pillow on the bed, on the back of the chairs.  The only place we have kept him off, for now, is our new couch.  
Murphy is spoiled, and we are okay with that.  We know he's a yappy little dog, and we know he should be forced to mind us better, and we know that people don't like him jumping in their laps, but, honestly, we don't care.  We look into those bright eyes and melt every time.  

19 More Days

I had my 7 week post-op, sub-talar ankle fusion appointment today.  I have had a couple of good days of playing my favorite game of "What If", and had all kinds of scenarios going through my head.  What if I had a failed fusion?  What if the incision didn't heal correctly?  What if I had little blisters all over my heels and sides of my foot?  What if my foot fell off when they took the cast off?  Yeah, I know, that last one was kinda dumb, but when you aren't sleeping well, the imagination can be a scary thing.
The doctor seemed extremely pleased with my progress so far, and liked what he saw on my x-rays.  At this point I was beginning to relax and scold myself for playing too much "What If".  The he says he's going to put me in a boot (YAY, big ugly boot), but he wasn't quite ready to let me walk on it just yet.  WTF?  Talk about being deflated, though the full impact of that didn't truly hit me until a few hours later.  
I'll head back down to see him again on July 11th for more x-rays, and then take it from there.


My thoughts on this are kind of scattered right now.  What if (yes, I know...) my fusion is going to fail?  He never mentioned anything of the sort, but I do know from my vast experience with my ankle that putting some pressure on it will help solidify the fusion.  Then the love of my life (who is truly the most rational person I know and doesn't feed into my hysteria) mentioned that he just thinks the guy is being ultra conservative in his care.  That actually makes the most sense (see, I told you he was rational).  My surgeon is a pretty straight laced guy, and has been pretty laid back and conservative in all his treatment since I've started seeing him, so this is more than likely the main reason.  
So, I have 19 more days of the crutches, the knee walker, being taxied to and from work, laying around and not being able to help myself do much.  


The good in all of this though, is that I do have the boot, which gives me some feeling of freedom.  I am finally able to let my foot air out which is a very wonderful feeling.  Once the dead skin and bohemian look is gone (tomorrow - I don't think I can stand myself for much longer with this hair, I mean, I can practically braid it and bead it like they do in the Caribbean) I will post some more pictures.  They gave me a disk with all my x-rays on it too, which is so cool, and I can show ya'll where I got screwed!!!!


19 days isn't that long is it?