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Another day

      The Curmudgeon had a slightly better day.  He was able to walk with the walker.  I didn’t have to help him up from the floor.  It’s a good thing too. 

      My back is a shambles again.  I didn’t go grocery shopping as planned, instead I spent as much time seated as possible. 

      I hope to stop and grab a few major items we need while I’m out with G today.  Maybe we’ll even squeeze in a farmers market stop before we go home.  G is driving, we are going to place she likes, and I have no idea where it is.  LOL!  Nothing like a mystery trip.

      Now it’s time for me to go fire up my Kindle.  You all have a good one.51uJzmtxoYL__SL500_AA300_

Welcome to our world

     The Curmudgeon’s bad days are coming closer together, rougher, and faster.  Yesterday was bad enough to make me want to pack up my van, grab the dogs, and run.  Other solutions passed through my brain too.  Not one of them was anything I’d act on, but I can’t lie and say they weren’t thought of at least once.

     If anyone tells you there is help available out there, only believe it if you have barrels of money.  For those of us living a tad above the poverty level, it’s another whole world. 

     While trying to help him, I threw my back out again.  Managed to scream at him like a harridan and hate myself for it. 

     He needs me kind, calm, and loving but I can’t seem to get to that place any more.  I’m over tired, over stressed, and I don’t know what all.  I don’t like myself very much at the moment.

     No one was home in the neighborhood and he didn’t want me to call 911 for help.  I managed to find my neighbor’s youngest son and he tried to give us a hand. 

     This is secondary progressive MS folks.  It doesn’t get any better, it only gets worse.

      You all have a good one.  I’m going to have a glass of wine or a dirty vodka martini.

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Newsflash!

     After me giving The Curmudgeon both barrels on the need to get his muscles working and in better shape, I heard him using the weight machine.

     He was whining the other night about how sore his legs were after a short trip through Home Depot.  Yesterday he did some more whining and I went off on him.

     Even though it killed me to do it, I read him the riot act because all he does is sit in his chair.  If he doesn’t work his muscles they will stop working for him.  He may have MS and his nerves may not be normal but by allowing his muscles to atrophy he is helping this disease beat him.

     I think he finally got it!  Let’s hope he keeps this up and gets his muscles back in working order.

     You all have a good one.

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A crazy dream

     My yard is so out of control I am ready to call in the professionals.  If we’d have a couple of days of cooler, dry weather, The Curmudgeon and I might be able to run the mower and trimmer.

     We’ve had rain, rain, and more rain with just enough sunshine to make it humid and hot.  Of course that means the grass and weeds are growing like mad.

     My gardens are in dire need of weeding.  I never did get them mulched, so I am paying for that error now.  I think after the leaves fall and once the yard is cleaned up, I will start stock piling mulch for spring.

     What I really need is several strong and eager volunteers to clean everything up, fill in the pond, and level the yard. 

     Yeah, I can hear you laughing.  I am as well.  As if that will ever happen.  *Giggle*  Not in my lifetime I’m sure.

     My big gargoyle is buried under weeds as are my bronze herons.

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MS so sucks

     The Curmudgeon went with our friend to get a part for our leaking flush valve flapper.  His friend replaced it for us today.  Yay, no more running toilet to cost us $$.  We should see the water bill go down a tad.  Thank you R for doing the repair.

     Unfortunately, The Curmudgeon went with our friend to get the replacement part.  Why unfortunately you ask?  Because after being out in the heat, he was shot for the rest of the day and night.

     It drives The Curmudgeon crazy that he can’t even do the simple jobs around here anymore.  According to the dogs, he even needs help to make his own toast.

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Close encounters of the Bull Terrier kind

     This is for Linda.

     Over the years, my body has taken great punishment from our bull terriers.  Cement block noggins to nose or face are common.  Heads rammed into shins and other tender places too.

     One time Malcolm stepped directly in front of me at the top of the back porch steps while I was carrying a tray of hot dogs outside to put on the grill.  I didn’t see it coming, he never crossed in front of me like that before.  Need I say the hot dogs never made it to the grill?  I fell over my knee-high road block, flew far enough forward to land half on the lawn and half on the concrete sidewalk without knocking myself unconscious.

     My hip slammed into the concrete so hard that I had a hip to knee sized blackened bruise the likes I’d never seen before and hope I never see again.

     The Curmudgeon was on the second floor roof and didn’t hear my cries for help.  Malcolm did, but he was too busy snarfing down hot dogs to care.  Thank goodness my next door neighbor heard me and came to my rescue and helped me to my feet while I took inventory to see what body parts sustained damages.  As luck would have it, I didn’t break anything.

Silly boy MalcolmThe culprit.

Shhhhhhh….

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Poor Patty, all worn out from a busy day of barking at the UPS man, snoozing in her crate, and snoozing in Daddy’s chair.

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Meanwhile, by seven p.m. Gavin is waiting for someone to tuck him in.

The harvest from the potted garden so far…

     So far we’ve enjoyed several fresh tomatoes, even gave G a couple.  We’ve had two nice eggplants.  One we had a week or two ago and one we enjoyed for our dinner last night.  We might get two or three more from the plants if the weather holds up.

     We did not get more than  two lousy looking peppers, the early and long  heat destroyed the plants.  I replanted the one pot with romaine lettuce and that is looking rather nice so far.

     I planted two pots, that are small enough to bring inside, with rosemary.  First sign of frost in they come!  We’ve enjoyed the pots of fresh rosemary, chives, and basil all summer.

Eggplant Español: Berenjena

Fair pictures!

Had our funnel cake, sausage sandwiches, and lemonade.  Got some giggles in, exhausted ourselves, and had some fun which G and I needed.

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It’s fair week here.

     Starting today the Great Allentown Fair opens and will continue for an entire week.  As a teenager, I loved to go to the fair with my boyfriend, now known as The Curmudgeon.  He can no longer go since it takes walking.

     The last several years I haven’t gone.  However, this year G and I are going to go.  We’re both hungry for some funnel cake and other goodies that you can only get at the fair.

      I’ll bring The Curmudgeon a doggie bag.

     You all have a good one!

It’s all about balance

     Or so I’ve been told.  For The Curmudgeon it’s keeping it, or losing it.  At present he uses the rollator more than his cane and still manages to lose his balance.

     Oh wait, we’re not talking that sort of balance are we?  According to Dictionary.com:

bal·ance

[baluhns]  noun, verb, bal·anced, bal·anc·ing.

noun

1. a state of equilibrium or equipoise; equal distribution of weight, amount, etc.
2. something used to produce equilibrium; counterpoise.
3. mental steadiness or emotional stability; habit of calm behavior, judgment, etc.
4. a state of bodily equilibrium: He lost his balance and fell down the stairs.
5. an instrument for determining weight, typically by the equilibrium of a bar with a fulcrum at the center, from each end of which is suspended a scale or pan, one holding an object of known weight, and the other holding the object to be weighed.

verb (used with object)

18. to bring to or hold in equilibrium; poise: to balance a book on one’s head.
19. to arrange, adjust, or proportion the parts of symmetrically.
20. to be equal or proportionate to: I’m always happy when cash on hand balances expected expenses. One side of an equation must balance the other.

21. Accounting.

a. to add up the two sides of (an account) and determine the difference.
b. to make the necessary entries in (an account) so that the sums of the two sides will be equal.
c. to settle by paying what remains due on an account; equalize or adjust.
22. to weigh in a balance.

verb (used without object)

26. to have an equality or equivalence in weight, parts, etc.; be in equilibrium: The account doesn’t balance. Do these scales balance?
27. Accounting. to reckon or adjust accounts.
28. to waver or hesitate: He would balance and temporize endlessly before reaching a decision.
29. Dance. to move forward and backward or in opposite directions.

30. in the balance, with the outcome in doubt or suspense: While the jury deliberated, his fate rested in the balance.
31. on balance, considering all aspects: On balance, the new product is doing well.
Origin:
1250–1300; Middle English balaunce  < Anglo-French; Old French balance  < Vulgar Latin *balancia,  variant of *bilancia,  equivalent to Late Latin bilanc-  (stem of bilanx  with double scales; Latin bi- bi-1  + lanx  metal dish, pan of a pair of scales) + -ia -ia

bal·ance·a·ble, adjective

3. poise, composure. 6. See remainder. 13. See symmetry.

     Wow, balance has many meanings.

     I am working on finding my balance.  I can’t tell you how many yoga and meditation DVDs and CDs I have.  And then there are all the Kindle meditation and yoga books waiting for me to read them.  Yoohoo balance where are you?

     I hope you too will find your balance.  You all have a good one!

Gated at last.

     The gate for the stairs arrived yesterday.  Once I got it installed, I stood back, looked at it, and shook my head wondering why the hell I hadn’t bought one a long time ago.  It just needs a little more tightening to get the gap out.

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     It is easy for The Curmudgeon to open and impossible for Gavin or Patty to get through when closed.  They are allowed upstairs by invitation only.  They don’t mind, they have the couch, The Curmudgeon’s chair, and their crates to snooze on/in.  The perfect burglar alarms, they have free run of the entire downstairs.

     Gavin likes his crate covered.  LOL!  It’s the funniest thing to see when he piles out of the crate from under his blanket drape.  Patty prefers The Curmudgeon’s chair for most of the night but eventually she heads to her crate.

     Next project for me to tackle?  Who knows.

     You all have a good one!