Off with the Old, On with the New

I hope all of you have read the Dolberry Gaffe List. It's very good, and funny. If I were to write a gaffe list it would take days and days and would finally end up as being one of the bigger gaffes of my life. Dolberry 's list went back to his years at Trinity. Only 25 gaffes in all of those years? Wow! He deserves an award!

When I was about 10 years old, I tried to go from the top floor of our house to the ground with out using the stairway. My intent was to climb out the attic window and cross the back porch roof there-by gaining access to the plum tree, get into the plum tree and climb down to the ground. Great plan! My younger brother assured me I could do it. Problem came about when I missed the limb of the tree that I had planned to access. Ground came up to meet me! I landed on my belly and lost my breath. We 're talking major pain but I survived. It's been one gaffe after another ever since.

These last days of 2009 have been filled with reviews of the year that is ending. Some sad or tragic reminders and some happy or poignant memories. My year has been the same way. I have some really high points and some very low points.

I was lucky enough to qualify to have my house weatherized, so I no longer have two and three hundred dollar utility bills. I went to Florida twice during the year, both times in January. We had the Fitzgerald Family Fun Festival at Andrea and Travis's in June. There are now sixty members of our immediate family and almost all of them were in attendance. I
went to Emerald Isle, N.C. in July and had a wonderful time with lots of good food and laughter and the ocean air. Great time! We had other family gatherings to celebrate birthdays,a graduation, (actually a retirement party) and other fun events, picnics with the Lally's, the Kentucky Derby where I had the winner! Ball games, where Nathan umpired, all so much fun.

In between all of the fun things I found out that I had an aggressive squamous cell cancer growth on my head that despite frequent visits to the dermatologist had gone undetected. I had surgery in August to have the tumor removed and then started radiation on the 16Th of August. I had to have 20 treatments. I had had radiation a few years ago, 30 treatments that time, so I was not too concerned about these sessions until I found out what was involved. It was not an easy thing.

I find it hard to write about the fact that in between the surgery and the treatments I found out that Fergus was terminally ill. I am still not ready to go into that yet. Suffice it to say that my life changed drastically.

The radiation finally came to an end and I was so relieved and thankful that it was over that adjusting to the bald spot on my head seems not nearly as traumatic as I thought it would be.
I have, on and off, been doing some volunteer work at Meredith-Dunn. That's a good thing, I get out of the house and get my mind on something other than my woes. When I came home from working on the 11Th of November, I found that my house had been robbed. All the things you have ever heard about an incident of this kind are true. I feel so violated and insulted and injured! My safe place, my haven has been profaned. Many items were stolen, most of them were sentimentally irreplaceable.

While I am still dealing with the repercussions of that violation, an intruder forced his way into my home. He must have been mentally ill or drugged or something because he referred to me as 'Mama' and even put his arm around me and kissed me on the top of my head! I used my "don't mess with me" voice and convinced him to leave my home but it left me feeling very vulnerable. I now have chain locks, and a peep hole and I am wondering about a moat, with maybe a crocodile or alligator in it.

My last adventure was rather humorous, I was subpoenaed to go to court and testify against the perpetrator of the robbery and before leaving the Hall of Justice, I used the rest room and when I was ready to leave I found that the door to the stall that I was in, was blocked by something and I could not get out! Being trapped in a filthy public rest room stall is not a good thing. Linda heard my shouts and came in and liberated me.

The good the bad and the ugly. But when all is said and done it was a wonderful year for me because I survived! Eighty-five and still alive! HAPPY NEW YEAR! Ciao.

Year's End

2009 will soon be a part of history. It had its high points and its low points but that can be said of each and every year. Life just keeps moving on and will do so with or without us. I feel very fortunate to have lived to be as old as I am. Life 85 years ago was so far removed from what life is like today. I wonder what my grand parents and parents would have thought of some of the advances and innovations of today. I read an article just the other day about the people that were sentenced to prison for 20years and are now eligible for parole. Some of them were interviewed and asked how it felt to be free again. They expressed awe and confusion at what they found in the world now. One said he had been looking forward to being released and had even written drafts of his resume and practiced what he would say to convince employers to hire him. He thought about career paths he could explore. Then he was released into the world of today and found himself totally bewildered and confused and illiterate. He had no technology experience and found that life had gone on without him. That happened in just 20 years! Think of all of the changes that I have witnessed in my 85 years. There were very few automobiles (that's what they were called) and very few telephones. The telephones were all on party lines and you shared one line with one, two or three neighbors. You answered the phone according to how many rings your line had. One, two, three or four rings accordingly. There were some two party lines but they were more expensive. At first, as I recall, you picked up the receiver and an operator was there to ask: "Number, please?" You gave the number you were calling and she connected you to the person you wanted to reach. In about 1941 I had started dating Doc and I went to London, O. for Christmas celebrations. My grandparents lived back to back and we spent time at one or the other house all day long. Doc tried to call me from Springfield, O. to wish me a Merry Christmas and was overwhelmed by the fact that the operator said when he asked for the number, "I'll try her Grandma Charters first but if she is not there she'll be at her Grandmother Morrissey's. So be patient ." He was totally astonished!

Progress came about and the operators were done away with, (not killed off' just laid off) and replaced by automation, no more personal touches. No more party lines, no more operators, dial phones came to be. No more phones that had receivers separate from the stand up phone with the dial on the base. Princess phones came into being. Good Golly Miss Molly, if your number was filled with 9's or 0's it took forever to dial it. Touch tone phones came along and made life easier. But you were still tethered to the phone line.

I went to Washington, D.C. in 1998 and as we drove around town we all marveled at the people walking along the streets talking on phones! Imagine that ! We heard stories about the rays or whatever going into their brains from these phones and visualized a nation of Sony heads or nuts walking around. ( We were not too far off the mark there, I fear).

It was just a matter of time until we all had our own phones that we could walk around with. I had to buy a special purse to carry mine in because it was so big. I got one so that I could call Doc from school or where ever and he could answer on the portable phone. He thought it was ridiculous and refused to carry it or have anything to do with it! You would have thought it was Witch Craft!

Now everyone has a cell phone and land lines (house hold phones) are becoming obsolete. No more phone booth es. It used to be if you were in the grocery and heard people talking you skirted around them with caution thinking they might be unhinged. Now, when people shout, " Hello!" Don't answer back because you will get some sour looks from your fellow shoppers. Its not so intimidating when you can see the phone they are holding up to their ears but when they have both hands free to choose items off the shelves and are still talking (loudly) about Aunt Opal's confrontation with the po-lice or how wasted they were the night before you do begin to worry. Pay attention to their ears! Those are not hearing aids! Where does it go from here? Do try to look uninterested and ponder your selections seriously because if you stare they might take your picture on their phone camera and later accuse you of eaves dropping.... And our ancestors thought the frontiers were dangerous! Woe betide us. Ciao

Christmas 2009

I am celebrating my 85th Christmas. I was born in November so I was only a month old on my first Christmas. I really don't recall the Christmases between then and my 6th Christmas. We had moved from Springfield, O to Cincinnati, O because of the economy. We were just on the edge of the Great Depression. Dad got a job that paid more than his railroad job so we moved. On that Christmas Santa brought my sister, Mart, and I a wicker doll buggy and a cradle. We were to share that. We each got a baby doll too. The baby doll had a cloth covered body and a china head, arms and legs. When she was turned over she cried "ma ma" and when she was placed on her back she closed her eyes. Those were very new features for a doll baby to have.

I loved the doll buggy! In a few years, three or four, we moved back to Springfield and I used to use the buggy to take my dog, Trixie, a walk. She was very cooperative and would lie in the buggy and even tolerate a cover on her. The people we met along the way always remarked about what a cute 'baby' I had.The doll baby, Betsy, stayed in our room in the cradle. She occasionally got to go for a walk.

Christmas was a magical time. We would always spend it in London, O. with my Grandparents. As I mentioned, times were not good; the Depression years were very hard on most of America. We never, ever received elaborate gifts. Agnes and Catherine, my mother's sisters were both single women and lived with Grandma and Grampa Morrissey. They usually got us new pajamas and sometimes a scarf or mittens. Santa brought sox and maybe a new dress or sweater and as an extra treat if Mother could afford it we would get an orange and a candy cane or some hard tack in our stocking. Still, it was so great to be with all of our relatives and enjoy the good food and good conversations. ( We were listeners. Children were seen and not heard!)

As the years went by, the traditions did not change, we looked forward to that special day and it continued to be magical. The presents were still not elaborate. On top of the Depression we also suffered through the worst drought that the country had ever seen and since most of my relatives were farm people we second or third hand felt the affects of the drought.

The focus was on the religious celebration and the story of Christmas. Helping other children and helping people that were lonely and/or ill. Warm clothes and food and a warm place to stay were uppermost in the scheme of things.

The contrast between then and now is so vast that it would take many pages to try to evaluate it and to conjecture about the cause of the change. I am not one to want to go back to 'the good old times' because I know that we had plenty of hardships and unhappiness then but we are definitely lacking some of the innocence and the civility that we had in the times past.

I have so many thoughts and ideas running around in my brain , so many things I would like to write about or comment on but I'm afraid I would get bogged down with comparisons that are not relative to my own existance.

I do still feel the magic of Christmas and still see the joy and innocence in the eyes of my grandchildren and great grandchildren. I am heartened by their joy and feel the love of their parents and hope that they can keep that alive in their hearts throughout their lives. I hope they do not become jaded and disillusioned by the harsh world we live in. Ciao

Day Late

This picture goes with the blog that I wrote yesterday about my failed cookie baking session. I tried to put the picture on yesterday but I could not seem to remember how I had accomplished that feat the last time. Gregg came today and he showed me how to do it. It's actually easy to do, it's just hard to figure out how to do it.

Today I'm going to try to make cashew chicken. I'll see how difficult that is. I'm hoping it will be edible.Ciao

STM

One would think that 67 years of marriage, six children, fourteen grandchildren, twenty-five great-gtandchildren would equip one with the skills to bake cookies! One would think that but it may not be the case. Perhaps there is such a thing as too much experience. a few weeks ago I had some Spice Cookies extrodinair that Rachel had baked. ( a relatively new cookie maker). I ask for the recipe and went to the store to buy the ingredients and commenced to begin baking. I made the mistake of following the recipe exactly. Something that I have strayed away from throughout the years. I use the recipe as a guide to the ingredients and the ratios involved in baking or cooking anything.



As anyone that cooks often, knows, you have to make judgements about how much or how little of certain items need to be added to suit your taste or the taste of the group you are cooking for. I make judgements on how the food looks. If you are baking a cake you learn to look into the oven and see if the cake looks done. Same with most things you cook. Pasta is done when it reaches a certain color, it may be finished before the amount of time that the directions on the box suggested or it may take longer. You have to use your own experiences.



With the cookies that I made, as I said, I stuck to the recipe, I first of all, sifted the dry ingredients three times, as directed. I used actual measuring spoons to measure out the spices, something that I don't always do, you'd be surprized at how accurately you can measure a tsp. of salt in the cupped palm of your hand. Beating the egg before it is mixed in with the other ingredients, there are times when that does not matter. Other times when it does matter. Learn the difference by experience.



I actually pre-heated the oven, I am frequently lax when it comes to that step. If I forget to pre-heat I make allowances for that when I set the timer. Your nose often tells you when it is time to check on the items you're cooking. Approximate the time as a rule. You can set the timer for the required amount of time that the recipe calls for but it is not always 100% accurate. How does it look, how does it 's aroma strike you? Does it look done? Does it smell done? you be the judge.



On my spice cookies, as I said, I followed the recipe to a tee! But alas, poor cookies! They looked like 'cow patties'. Not anything at all like Rachel's. I did eat a few of them and they did taste Ok but they did not satisfy my cookie yearning. The memories of my Grandmother's Ginger Snaps did not dance in my head, as they had with Rachel's. They were an embarrassment. I had to dispose of the rest of the dough after doctoring it up a bit, trying to come up with the right combination for success. No,it was a failed mission. When my wounded pride recovers, I will try again. The next time I'll do it my way! Ciao

Chain Letters or whatever.

I would like to send out a memo to all of my e-mail correspondents and beg for a moratorium on threatening chain letters. I'm sure you know the ones I am talking about. It states up front that you are a valued friend and they want to share with you this lovely prayer, poem, boo hoo story or whatever. It frequently warns you to be sure you read it to the end. Whatever you do, DO NOT DELETE! A pox on your house if you do that!

On some of them there is a 'boo hoo' story about some unfortunate person that was on the brink of disaster when the letter arrived on their computer telling them to say the following prayer and then send it on to 10, 15, or 20 other people within 5 minutes of reading and then sit back and see what happens in four hours, or 24 hours or within the next half hour or so. The 'boo hoo' person recovered, miraculously and now drives a BMW and lives in a mansion.

There is a subtle threat that if you do not abide by the rules and meet the deadline...woe betide you! I have requested that a few of my friends(?) not send any more of these to me because I have an aversion to threats. Some people accommodated me and ceased while others doubled up on them.

I can be gullible at times and I did send them on to other unfortunate people that used to be my friends but I am now rethinking my future participation in these activities.

In recent months, while waiting for the good things promised to me if I participated, my dearly loved Fergus died, soon after that the dermatologist discovered a rapidly growing, aggressive squamous cell cancer on my head, I had to have surgery and then have twenty radiation treatments and then my house was broken into and much of my jewelry stolen. I was subpoenaed for a court appearance to testify against the perp, and upon leaving the Hall of Justice I stopped for a rest room break and by some trick of fate I could not get the stall door open to get out of the restroom and had to stay there yelling my head off to get Linda's attention to spring me. The filthy, obscene writings on the wall of the stall were less than profound. Profane, yes, profound ? No.

One might think I'd had enough, but no, Yesterday a man forced his way into my living room and put his arm around me and kissed me on the top of my head, just missing my bald spot left by the radiation, and called me "Mama" I had never seen this man before in my life and told him to get out of my house! He wanted to sit on the sofa and tell me about the antique store he was going to open down by Walmart. I raised such a fuss and finally clutched my chest to try to quell my heart jumping out and convinced him to leave! Whew! He was still referring to me as Mama.
I called 911 and they were very prompt, four policemen, two cruisers arrived in just a few minutes. I had looked very closely at the intruder and knew the color and type of shoes he was wearing, his jeans, jacket color and ball hat color and his size along with the make and type of truck he was driving. Be on the lookout for a white Ford pick up truck, not a crew cab, and a guy about 6'2 that's going to open up an antique store down by Walmart! Yeah, right!

Back in the days of the Great Depression we had lots of indigents and homeless people, we called them tramps or hobos. They went from door to door looking for hand outs. Mother always found some thing to give them to eat, like a home made jelly sandwich or something. We were not out on the street but close! The tramps or hobos would mark an X on the fence or gate post to let the other less fortunates know that this house may give them a bite. I'm going out to look to see if there is an X on my house. They don't seem interested in food but jewelry and things of that nature seem to be a priority.

If the things that have happened to me lately are the rewards, no, wait a minute, they didn't say they would be good things they just said, "You'll be surprised!" OK, mission accomplished, I've been very surprised and now am ready to hit the return to sender button for chain letters from now on. Be aware and stay alive! Ciao

Giving thanks

In church on Thanksgiving Day, Father Don pointed out that Thanksgiving is not a holy day. It actually has nothing to do with any religion. I believe he said the first Thanksgiving took place during George Washington's time but Abraham Lincoln was the president that declared that a day be set aside each year to give thanks.

Actually, in 1621 in Plymouth, Mass. the celebration of thanks was held by the Pilgrims who had sailed to our shores and survived. They were well acquainted with annual thanksgiving day celebrations. It is an ancient and universal custom. The Greeks had honored Demeter, goddess of agriculture; the Romans had paid tribute to Ceres, the goddess of corn; the Hebrews had offered thanks for abundant harvests with the Feast of Tabernacles. The Western World accepted these customs.

The Pilgrims had survived a very hard year, illnesses, severe weather, and other hardships had plagued them but they had a bountiful harvest and an abundance of food. Hence, thanksgiving celebration.

On October 1777 for the first time, all thirteen colonies joined in a common thanksgiving celebration. They were celebrating the victory over the British at Saratoga. It was a one time thing.

Finally the first national Thanksgiving proclamation was issued by President George Washington in 1789. However, not unlike some citizens today, there was a group of Americans that felt there was no need for a national celebration because a handful of early settlers had chosen to honor their survival. They looked on the day as honoring the settlers not as a day to give thanks. President Thomas Jefferson went so far as to actively condemn a national recognition of Thanksgiving during his two terms.

In 1827, a magazine editor Sarah Josepha Hale, started a one woman crusade for a Thanksgiving celebration. She not only published editorials in her magazine but wrote letters to governors, ministers, newspaper editors and each incumbent President requesting that the last Thursday in November be designated as a tribute of joy and gratitude for the blessings of the year.

Finally in 1863, the Civil War had bitterly divided the nation and Mrs. Hale revved up her editorials with unflinchinglly patriotic fervor, and in September of that year just after the Battle of Gettysburg when the North had an important victory, Mrs. Hale prompted President Abraham Lincoln to issue a proclamation. He did so on October 3, 1863. He proclaimed the last Thursday in November as Thanksgiving Day.

In 1939 President Franklin D. Roosevelt shifted Thanksgiving back one week, to the third Thursday in November to increase the number of shopping days between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Hence, Black Friday!Ciao

Give Us This Day...

I had a suggestion from one of my family m;embers that I list the foods that I consumed on T-Day. I believe Dolberry was giong to try to eat 20 items on T-Day so I'll see how close I come to that.

• Early in the day: cream of wheat,
• one dried pineapple chunk
• one Tum
• another Tum
• two Tums
• two more Tums
• Later on: three potato chip fragments
• one Triskit w/salmon spread
• one more Triskit w/ salmon spread
• one Flat Bread fragment w/salmon spread (salmon spread, very good!)
• ten or twenty almonds (does that count as one or twenty?)
• 1 T of corn pudding
• 1 T of potatoes w/gravy
• 1 T of sweet potato casserole
• 1 T broc. casserole
• 3 T escalloped oysters
• 1 chunk of dark meat turkey
• 1 clover leaf roll (no one told me about Scott's rolls)
• 1 T dressing, otherwise known as stuffing
• 3 more T. of escalloped oysters
• 2 beverages of choice (Reisling)( served in grown-up glass )
• 1 small slice of rhubarb pie
• 1 small slice of sweet potato pie

• All followed by severe pains in the abdomen.
• Hasty departure to my home
• You don't want to know the rest and besides it negates all of the above.!
• Ciao

Competition

In an effort to have an official entry on record for the Great Shamrock Debacle, I am entering my first entry but it is not my best shot. I do hope you take note of the fact that it is purple and while it does not stand up as straight as the one other entry, it is doing its best. Ciao

Testing 1..2..3

I am trying to learn how to blog with pictures. Problem is I don't know where to go from here. I am definitely tech challenged.

Pain, Pain Go Away--

Don't let the title mislead you, I am not in pain at the moment. At least I don't think I am. Pain is all relative. A few years ago when I had one of my more drastic surgeries, a boy that was in my class at school, who lived not too far from me, came to visit. He was and assume still is a very sincere, serious boy. He told me that he knew just how I felt because he had had surgery once and he remembered how painful it was. When I enquired about the nature of his surgery, he said he had had his tonsils removed. A few weeks later he came to visit again and that time he told me that he had told his mom what he had said to me about his tonsilectomy and she said he needed to come back and tell me that he didn't really know how much more drastic my experience was and he was truely sorry.

You know, I don't think it was at all a goof-up on his part that he compared his experience to mine. When you think about it, his tonsillectomy was probably the most painful experience he had ever had and maybe unknowingly he was comparing his pain to mine, not the procedure. I thought about that a lot and realized that his commiseration was so accurate. He did know how I was feeling. He had experienced the greatest pain he had ever had and knew how it feels to be in that much pain. One could only hope that he will never suffer more pain than he did for that minor procedure. Dealing with head aches, skinned knees or knuckles, paper cuts, muscle aches, stomach aches will, by comparison, be not all that bad.Which brings me to the point I'm trying to make.

Measuring pain is a difficult task. Now they have these little charts in doctors' offices and hospital ER's and they hold the chart up for you to see and ask " How would you describe your pain? " The chart has a gradated thermometer type drawing of a scale from 1 to 10." What level of pain do you have?" I am always tempted to ask, " as compared to what? "If you have had many, many levels of pain at other times or have never had anything worse than a flu shot injection, how can you gauge your pain? A 3 or a 6 or an 8 or maybe a 10?

There are categories of pain: A piercing pain, a stabbing pain, a heavy pain, a dull ache, a pain that radiates, a pain that builds in intensity and then subsides and then builds again. They're all pains but how could you put a number on anyone of them?

Their are so many factors to consider when asking people what level of pain they are suffering. How about the people that are a pain in the neck? Even there it would require some kind of comparison, right?

I think I've given myself a headache, trying to figure this out, I don't know whether it's a 3 or a 7 but I'm going to go lie down!Ciao

Perspective

As you may or may not know my house was robbed last Wednesday. I've known many, many people that have had their homes invaded by thieves and they aptly describe their emotions just as I would. It is awful to feel so violated. The first reaction is one of astonishment that this has happened to me! My home is my safe place, my haven, my personal space, who would have the nerve to cross my threshold and help themselves to my possessions. Possessions that I value and am comforted by, not because of their monetary value but because of the memories that I have been saving up. I can look at certain possessions and recall happier times, or tender moments, or places I have visited. Possessions that help me reach back to the past and relive some of the experiences that I have had. Sort of a connection collection, so to speak.

Shakespeare said, "He who steals my purse, steals trash" he also said, "One man's trash is another man's treasure." Last year when a tornado hit a small rural area of Kentucky, they showed a woman on the nightly news that was standing in front of what had just hours earlier been her trailer home. She was crying and said." they say it is just junk, but it is MY junk! "

Each of us value different things. Among the things stolen from me was an article that Doc brought home to me when he got out of the Army after WWII. He told the story about how his battalion had liberated a small village in Italy that was near one of the German Concentration camps that they had captured. The village people took the Americans into their homes in thanksgiving for their liberation. An old Italian woman gave Doc a hand tooled cameo necklace to bring home to me. She had no money but wanted him to take something for giving them back their freedom.

The necklace had no clasp so I could never wear it but the cameos were exquisite and it was valuable to us because of what it represented. There were a few other items, a necklace that I got while visiting the Vatican, it had the Pieta on one side of the pendant and it was one of the items that Pope John Paul II had blessed, There was a gold coin on a gold chain that my grandchildren had given me one Christmas and also the gold locket and chain that Doc had given me on our 1st wedding anniversary 67 years ago. There were lots of other pieces of jewelry but those four were the irreplaceable items that I feel the most.

My home was just one of many that were broken into this past week. A woman that I knew back years ago but hadn't seen for many years, called me today and she had heard that I had been robbed and she wanted to share her experience also. She was enraged and resorted to calling the perp some very crude names and gave some ideas of what she would do to him if she ever got her hands on him. She vowed to press charges and see to it that they ,"put his sorry #&^@ in jail." She asked what action I had taken and proceeded to tell me that she calls the detectives at least twice a day and they don't always call her back. She said she wants her things back and she is not going to let up on the police until they get her things for her! She said if they don't have them back by next week she is calling Chief White and telling him that it is his job to see that our homes are safe and he needs to see to it that the police are doing what we are paying them to do!!! Vituperative language was sprinkled all through this tirade. She then listed some of the items that were missing but the one that she is going bonkers over is Billy Ray Cyrus' git tar 'pick that he gave her once when she saw him in concert. He had little Hannah Montana with him at the concert and he took her on stage to sing with him. She was only three and by d... she wants that 'gitar 'pick back. Her little granddaughter was just asking the other day if she could have the 'git tar' pick some day, and now it's gone! Some body's going to pay for this big time!! Whew!

I will see what happens next, I'm hoping the guy is apprehended before he gets rid of all the swag, so that I may get some things back. They are not worth thousands of dollars but to me they are worth a fortune.

The woman on the phone had one final question for me before she hung up; "Did they get in your panty drawer?" Ciao.

Bad News, good News

When a couple of our boys were little, we purchased an inflatable clown that was about 4 ft tall when when inflated. It was named Bozo, or Brillo or something like that. It had a rounded bottom so that when it was punched hard enough it fell down but promptly stood right back up again, only to be punched again! That's me! I fit that description exactly.

I lost some very,very sentimental keep-sakes in the dastardly deed perpetrated in my home yesterday but I have no other choice but to get back up again and wait for the next punch. I'll make every effort to dodge the next one. Life comes at ya' fast. Ciao

Alert!

It has come to my attention that my opponent is not above cheating! A person very close to the dolberry has knowledge of activities on his part that could make this an unfair competition. This is very devastating news to me because I do not relish playing the role of the lamb being led to the slaughter! I must be vigilant at all times and ramp up my blogging so as to foil the blogging perp that I have become involved with. I am up to the task.

I have been in tough spots before and have come out unscathed or relatively unscathed so I will be devoting much of my time trying to win against all odds. I must make every effort to outwit the wittiest! Ciao

Dog Gone!

Members of the animal kingdom have long been know to be man's best friends. Think about it. Before the industrial revolution man depended on beasts to help plow the fields, to uproot trees, pull the milk wagons, transport supplies, carry heavy loads, even carry people from place to place, the warriors rode their steeds into battle, the Pony Express carried the mail, what would the world have been without the beast's of burdon? Beasts still carry a heavy load in today's world even though we have become mechanized. Cows, my favorites, provide our milk, cheese, butter and other bi-products, cattle provide meat, chickens give us eggs, and cacciatore, turkeys and other fowls do their share. We depend on animals for thousands of things, footballs, gloves, feather pillows, down coats and the list goes on.

Having said all that, I want to make note of the role that dogs play in society. Is it any wonder that domesticated animals became so prominent in society? They are good companions that are naturally loyal, non-judgemental, faithful ,loving and protective. When we traveled through England, Scotland and Ireland and visited many cathedrals it was a surprise to me to see how many of the crypts that were in the cathedrals had life size stone figures of the dogs placed at the foot of their masters burial place.

When we visited Pompii we saw the dogs of Pompii, they live on the premises and follow the tourists and guides around all day every day. If a guide was distracted and had to stop for one reason or another the dog would move on to the next site and sit and wait for the guide to catch up. They belong to no one, people feed them scraps and they live their life time there and when their time comes they just lie down and die.

Today we have working dogs too. The K-nine corp has trained dogs to track down criminals, and help make arrests. It the airport in Rome ,Italy the polizia patrol the concourse with Uzzi in hand and a polizia dog at their side. We saw one dog take a man down moments after we arrived there. Scary.

We have Bloodhounds to track lost people or criminals or whatever. There are cadaver dogs, trained to find dead bodies, bomb dogs to sniff out explosives, and drug dogs to find drugs. On the Today show today they had a segment about a new dog job!

I've discussed before how prevalent allergies are . The peanut allergy has become the plague of
our time. We assume that all babies are born with the possibillity of a peanut allergy. Therefore babies are not allowed to have peanut butter or peanut products until the age of three. In the school lunch room we have separate tables for the Peanut butter crowd and the non-peanutbutter crowd. We have had to restrict 'bake sales' at school to store bought bakery supplies that have the listed ingredients on the labels so that no peanut or by product can be lurking in the cookie or cupcake that is being sold. Well maybe that can change!

According to the person on the Today Show they now have started training dogs to detect peanuts and peanut by products. They are Peanut sniffing dogs. They said one child already has one and it is allowed to go to school with him. If it sniffs a whiff of peanuts it will immediately sit down and refuse to move until the contraband is removed and he has been given a treat!

Should the kids that do not have the allergy have to stop bringing the traditional PB&J sandwich to lunch? Wouldn't that trigger the dogs olfactory sense and he would have to be given a treat? What if more than one kid has the allergy and he wants to bring his sniffing dog to school? Who takes the dog out to potty? Is that an added duty for the teacher? Will they have to add a critter sitter to the staff to take care of the sniffing dogs?

We had an art teacher one year that had a working dog that she brought to school with her every day. She had some medical problem that the dog could sniff outand warn her before she had a seizure. The kids loved the dog and he was quite friendly and seemed harmless BUT a few of the students were allergic to dogs and the parents were quite concerned about sending their child into this unsafe envirment. Problem: Art teacher goes or child withdraws from art class? Trials and tribulations abound. Fortunately we had no bomb threats that year so no bomb sniffers had to come. Ciao

Ha! The Owl Responds!

Okay, Dolberry, you're going down! I write ...therefore I blog! I had already sewn the seeds for my intended blog for today but I must digress when challenged by one so competitive as you. You may as well go ahead and concede the shamrock competition and get that out of the way and then get ready to eat humble pie. I hear it is not too tasty, I've never experienced it myself.


I will see how well I can perform under pressure, but meanwhile I will be concentrating on how to act when I end up being the winner. I like a gracious winner. I think being a good loser is over rated I think it is more difficult to be a good winner!

I will put forth the effort to study up on good winners. I'll try to perfect a few phrases that will be appropriate:" Nice try!" " You were pretty tough to beat!" " You are really coming along!" "Writers block is terrible, isn't it?" (I'm sure I can come up with others.)

OK, the gauntlet is down. Dolberry ,start your computer! Ciao

CAT NIP

Kudos to Dolberry for his Shamrock entry! I do now have a camera available but I have not yet mastered the skill of posting pictures on the blog site, or I would show my crop of shamrocks. I have both purple and green and they are spectacular, excuse me, I meant to say they WERE spectacular. They are spending the winter in the family room and they lose some of there zest for life down there. They are like bears, they hibernate and turn very,very ugly. But, not to worry when the gentle winds of spring blow back to my deck the shamrocks will once again burst forth in all their glory and be ready for serious competition.

It has been brought to my attention that there are reports of cats or maybe just one cat having Swine Flu in Iowa! I have been there(not in Iowa but Ohio) and done that! My encounter with the diseased cat took place in London, Ohio about 70 years ago. Believe me it was a life altering experience. Cat flu can be very painful and cause a lot of consternation in a small town and in a family.

One snowy Christmas day I was walking from one grandmother's house to another grandmother's house when I was attacked by my own grandmother's cat. The attack was unprovoked but my formerly loving grandmother swore up and down (as the saying goes) that the cat saw me and knew it was pay back time. My GM was under the impression that I had teased the cat the previous summer. Not entirely accurate.

When I went in the house to report the attack, my big brother went out to chastise the cat and it nipped him too! It ran under the shed and when my grandpa went out to confront the cat, it ran out of the shed and, yes, you guessed it; it nipped him also! Did Grandma blame them for their encounters? No!

The attacker whose name was Bib, died the next day. Woe is us! Grandpa reported it to the board of health in London and they promptly dug the cat up. (Grandpa had buried it in the garden.) and sent its head to Columbus for a 'cattopsy' and it was discovered that it was indeed gravely ill. They did not term it Cat Flu but referred to it as Rabies. Sort of a cross between Mad Cow disease and Swine Flu disease.

My brother, Grandpa and I all had to have a very painful series of injections to keep us from contracting the disease. The injections were unbelievably distressful, and we had to take 21 of them. One each day for three weeks. If we did not get the shots we could become dreadfully ill with hydrophobia.

I did not go mad as I could have but I did prepare for the worst. I promptly, at the height of my discomfort, make a list of all the people I was going to bite if I became afflicted with hydrophobia. My sister was high on the list, as a matter of fact, she was first on the list because she would shriek and pretend to run every time I got near her. She insisted that she would not sit next to me at the table during dinner, just in case I became rabid during the meal.!

The list took me awhile to compose because I felt it was my opportunity to repay any unjust treatment that I had suffered through in my life. It was a very satisfying task. There were a few nuns on the list too. Later in life I did see the error of my ways and try to make amends to them. Teaching junior high school gives one perspective on many things.

Fortunately, I did survive the treatment but I do not take it lightly when there is a report that cats may be afflicted with flu. Beware! Ciao.

Oink,Oink

The news in this morning's paper was certainly disconcerting. They are now reporting a pig somewhere in Indiana that has Swine Flu. They are keeping the location under wraps for now so as not to stir up all the other pigs. No, maybe that's not the reason, maybe they are just protecting the pig's privacy.I don't really intend to make light of this but it befuddles me that in the same article they say, "Not to worry, people can't get swine flu from eating pork". As further reassurance they have a recipe on the next page for Pork Tenderloin with Red Grapes and Thyme.

I remember a few years ago when we were dealing with Mad Cow's Disease. I had to close my eyes when the news programs reported that news accompanied by film clips of cows falling down. I could not watch the indignity of cows falling down like common drunks. Certainly we won't have to watch pigs sneezing and coughing into their arm pits; leg pits? Whatever.

Many other nations, including Canada, Australia, Argentina, Ireland, Norway and the United Kingdom have had herd infections that were diagnosed as swine flu after conducting tests on the animals. The ban on pork imports to China was just ended after six months. The Chinese were expected to re-open their import markets which would be good news for the pork producers.We'll have to see if that happens.

If the media decides to give the sick pigs lots of news coverage and get everyone stirred up by casting aspersions on pork consumption and have the pigs line up to get vaccinated by the vaccine that is not yet available, then what?

Maybe it will be a good thing! It can take every one's attention away from worrying about the seasonal greetings and seasonal icons being displayed. Once again, because of a lack of education we must suffer through, what used to be, a joyous season, by rantings from the tin foil hat crowd. First of all they, the nebulous "they", refer to the Christmas tree as a religious symbol! In Frankfort, KY when the tree on the Capital lawn was referred to as a" Holiday "Tree their was an outcry from some"Christians!" Do they not know that" holiday "is a portmanteau for "holy day"!

The winter solstice is the time in the Northern Hemisphere when the sun is farthest south of the equator; it is in December on the 21st or 22nd. In ancient Britain, Ireland, and France there was a Celtic religious order of priests, soothsayers, judges, poets, etc that were worshipers of the sun and oak trees and Forrest's. Their major worshiping day was on or around the winter solstice. This was before Christianity came into being. They were ,and are known as, Druids. It is such an interesting story to read about but I have not the time to record it at this time. Anyway, that,by a series of events that took place in the 8th or 9th century is how the custom was started of decorating a tree at winter solstice. It is not a "Christian " symbol. Through the centuries it became a custom to decorate a tree at winter solstice which happens to coincide with the Christian celebration of Christ's birth. One of the beliefs is that the evergreen tree is a symbol of eternal life, among other things. It's not a time for fighting and arguing over what it symbolizes. The season is supposed to be a time of goodwill to all men. ALL. Knock off the silly arguing and sit back and enjoy the beauty of a tree lighted with bright and colorful lights and shiny ornaments and do your celebrating of your private beliefs with your family, friends or self.!

I am having pork and sauerkraut for dinner and hope the pig did not have any illnesses before he met his violent end. Makes me want to become a vegetarian! Pigs are one of the more intelligent animals in the kingdom. More intelligent than some of the people that slaughter them.

Bon appetit! Ciao

Week-end amusement!

I just had a banner weekend. I sometimes sit here at home for the weekend and think about the times I so looked forward to the weekend. Now I can pretty much act like its the weekend every day. I don't have to get up each morning and go off to school, and I regret that, and I don't have any one else to tend to or accommodate, and I regret that, too. Poor me! But this past weekend was a winner!

Friday, as I mentioned before , I went with Karen and Paul to Kris and Tim's house along with Scott and Kathy, Abby and Gus, for pizza. They live just across the street from Bellarmine College. After our pizza we all walked over to the campus to enjoy the Halloween activities. They had lighted pumpkins/jack-o-lanterns lining all of the walkways, and roads throughout the whole campus. It was spectacular. I'm not sure who carved the pumpkins, it could have been some of the students, I don't know but they were so creative and original. Some were elaborately carved with spiders, cats, monsters, clowns and many other designs and some had primitively carved faces. Square eyes, square nose and square mouth. They looked like something I might have carved or perhaps Maureen or Rowan but never the less, beautiful. It was overwhelming to see. There must have been at least a thousand of them! We toured around the campus to see the displays and noted the statue of the Knight on His Horse Sculpture, sculpted by Bob Lockhart and finally found ourselves in a huge line that had donuts at the end of it. It had started to rain, just a soft drizzly rain and we re-thought standing in line for the donut at the end of the jack-o-lantern trail and headed back to Kris and Tim's house before the drizzle turned into a down pour.

The organization that had sponsored the event had members sprinkled throughout the crowd handing out treats to the little goblins. When we got back to Kris and Tim's all of us except Paul and Tim scoped out the treats in the pillow cases, and plastic pumpkins and tested a few of them , just to make sure they were safe. Uhhh, while Paul and Tim drove up to the Krispy Kreme for donuts! There were a dozen Halloween decorated donuts and a dozen still warm glazed. I personally felt compelled to test both kinds. Great fun for all of us watching the children in their garbs having such a good time.

On Sunday Linda and Larry and I went to see "Chicago" at the Center for the Arts . All of us had seen the movie some time ago. I loved the movie and so I was glad to see the live performance. It was very good. The dancers were so alive and in perfect sync and enthusiastic throughout the whole performance. The orchestra was on the stage seated on risers that were outlined with tubular, various colored lighting. Very unique. The dancers did their dancing just below the orchestra on the front part of the stage.

It was interesting comparing the two different presentations. In the movie version everything was spelled out for you, so to speak. We knew the reason for the 'murder' that put Roxie in jail and the crimes of the others and the blatant activity of the jail house matron that plied her trade of extortion on each of the prisoners. The shenanigans of the girls trying to convince their shyster lawyers that they were innocent was plain to see through. The music was most definitely jazzy, and the lyrics left no doubts; " He had it comin..." and others like ," They call me Mr Cellophane..." It was marvelous.

Whereas, in the live version it took on all the markings of a good burlesque show. The costumes were rather scanty, sheer black tights and black panties and bras and the dancing and singing told the story or alluded to the facts of the storyline. Most of the cast did an outstanding job, I was not too impressed with the shyster lawyer, I guess I saw Richard Gere "tap dance' around the facts in the movie and still having that in mind I could not give it up for this pretender. Other than that ,I applauded the entire performance.

I think I was meant to be a dancer and singer, I just know I was. My spirits lift and my heart sings and my fingers snap and my feet tap when I hear that jazzy music. I put on little shows, when I was young, and I sang and danced and was the star of the show. Actually, I was the only one in the show but believe me I was dazzling! If you had only seen me then! Wow! I tried not to hide my lights under a bushel or whatever but the only live audience I ever had was my grandmother, aunt and my aunt's boyfriends. They would pay me a dime if I would recite pieces for them and were fully oblivious to the fact that I was a born dancer and singer! I regret that my talent was wasted all these years. I suppose it's too late now! Ciao!










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Favorite Holloween

Once again my computer decided to go ahead and publish whether I was ready or not. Anyway, back in the day, my sister-in-law gave me a favorite formal coat that she did not intend to use anymore. It was beautiful. It was a long black velvet hooded coat that was trimmed in white ermine fur. Gorgeous. I could never have afforded such a regal garment. Doc and I did attend many dances so I could get more use from it than she could. It was probably purchased in about 19 40 or so. Of course, after we married and had children we did not go out as often as we once did and it was only used at New Years. I adored that garment and kept it hanging in my closet just in case we were invited to a formal affair! Not likely but ...

Fashions changed and coats of that type were not used as much or at all in the 1960's and 70's It was way too formal for the Hippie era and the Grunge era and the more casual living style of the 70's and 80's. So my beautiful coat just hung out in my closet. I would get it out now and then just to see if I could still fit into it. It was form fitting and I made an effort to keep my "form".

Believe it or not, drunk driving did not get as much attention in those days.When the stats started piling up about the big problems that alcohol and driving were causing there were many awareness programs launched to emphasise the problem and call attention to it. Also, about that time I realized that all six of my children were grown up and I had no one to help plan a costume for, for Trick or Treat night. I decided I would dress myself up and go Trick or Treating here in my own neighbor hood.

I had an old skeleton mask left over from my past days with my own kids so I utilized that and made a costume of my own. I put on the loved velvet coat and pulled the hood up all the way to cover all but my skeleton face mask. I put on my white cotton gloves, which we all wore in those days,and donned black sox and shoes and looked through my cupboards to find a stemmed cocktail glass, one that might have held a martini at one time or another.I had the PERFECT outfit and one that made a statement that I wished to promote. Voila!

I went to my neighbors' doors and stood silently with the cocktail glass extended to get my message across. It was so much fun and took many of them a few minutes to figure just who was crazy enough to come trick or treating in that 'get up'. I looked very much like "death".

I did this for a year or so and finally one year Karen asked me to come out to her house and go to her next door neighbor's house. I did and Toots seemed to enjoy it a lot and after we visited for awhile, she suggested I go across the street to another neighbor's where a party was in full swing. The neighbor just happened to be the Jefferson County Coroner.

Karen and I went over and she went to the right of his front doorstep into the bushes and hid so that he could not see her. I rang the door bell and he answered the door. I held my cocktail glass out to him and just stood there mute as he kept laughing and saying ,"Who are you?" He finally yelled to his party friends and said, "You've got to see this! Come in here." They gathered around and laughed and starting guessing my identity. He went into the kitchen and brought in a bottle of "Wild Turkey" and poured some into my glass and said ,"Now, you have to let us see who you are." Lots of laughter going on.

Just as I started to remove my mask, Karen came out of the bushes and said, "Lloyd, I want you to meet my mother.!" He had never laid eyes on me before nor had I ever seen him. He was so shocked and so were his friends, none of whom I had met either. He couldn't believe he had given a shot of Wild Turkey to a total stranger dressed up as death. It was so much fun! I still remember the look on his face when I took that mask off. Fun, fun, fun.

I used the costume a few years after that one, for Halloween, but never again did it have the shock value that it did that year. The lovely coat deteriorated more and more each year until it became so fragile it could not be worn again. Some of my friends and family members still remember the fun I had with that costume. Happy Halloween. Ciao

Favorite Holloween

Hair

Yesterday was a great day for me because Andrea 'did' my hair! One of the underlying causes of my distress about my experience with the radiation was the fact that my hair was in such a dreadful state. We were unable to put any chemicals on my head until now. I am conscious at all times of my hair. In my whole lifetime it has been part of what defines me.

As a child I was often the topic of conversation because of my hair. Both my parents and grandparents and aunts , uncles, cousins et al had brown hair. My siblings had dark hair also. The question was posed by many,"Where did she get her red hair?" I grew to expect it and to ignore it, because there was no answer that would satisfy anyone. Actually, in recent times there have been articles published about the fact that natural red hair has become more and more rare because people of different nationalities marry. Both my parents were of Irish descent and the Irish people tend to be fair haired, and have fair skin and freckles.The bane of my existence.

The boys that I grew up with and went to school with, delighted in making fun of me and taunting me. "Red head, gingerbread, stumbled over a cabbage head!" Try that in a school yard
sing song voice and you'll get an idea of their ideas of humor. They would follow behind me and chant that and other obnoxious songs and statements. "Red on the head, freckles on the nose..." I learned to slug it out with the gang early on.

I was always pointed out by my description, "The one with red hair and freckles" that wasn't too bad but one of my cousins described me as, The ugly one with red hair and freckles. I was not unhappy to hear that he did not amount to much when he grew up!

Why are blonds and red heads singled out so often? Who hasn't heard a 'dumb blond' joke and who hasn't at one time or another heard about the Red Head's temper. Just about three years ago, I was approached in the grocery store by an old man who said, "Are you feisty? I'll bet you are with that red hair.!" (Now artfully colored by Andrea).

When I first started to get some silver threads among the gold, the hair dresser I had at that time suggested that I let her color my hair. I did. When I got home from my trip to the hairdresser's. Doc greeted me by saying, "Now, that's the way you're supposed to look!" He liked it and encouraged me to continue coloring it. He still liked my red hair even if it was enhanced.

As I grew older and had children and surgeries and potent medications, my curls disappeared and so did a lot of my hair. When women grow older they lose some of the hair on their heads and grow some on their chins. Men lose it from their heads and grow it in their ears !

As my hair has become more sparse I try my best to cover the almost bare spots, I am very conscious of them and am turned off by them, so knowing that I was going to lose even more hair due to the radiation I have been kinda' depressed. The hair that formerly grew in the area of the cancerous tumor has gone for good and will not return because of the rays. I have to learn to live with a 'Donald Trump' hair-do. My hair is so fine that when I go outside the slightest puff of wind destroys my 'do'.

It sounds like I am very fain about my hair but just the opposite is true. I try to do the best I can with what I have to work with. I'd love to have a full head of hair. I see the shampoo ads on TV and watch the flowing, swishing, glorious hair of the models and wonder what it would be like to have that much hair. I guess I could be like Dolly Parton and have a variety of wigs or like Caed O'Connal and shave my head or get a burr. (Now there's a scary thought !) but ...

In this morning's paper one of the columnists wrote about the plight of many people that have unmanageable hair and spend many years of their life trying to find some solution to their problem and I do realize that I'd rather have my wimpy hair than what they have to work with so I'll quit complaining. Hair today and gone tomorrow. Hats are the answer! My hat's off to Andrea, she is a wizard when it comes to my hair. Ciao

The View from Betty's Head

Every day I spend the early part of the day perusing the daily paper. I am well aware that it is not a top quality paper and that many subscribers have stopped taking the paper because of its diminished content of substance. I never the less read it because it's part of my routine. I have written before about the fact that my father read select articles aloud to all of us each day and we had discussions about the articles. It was an integral part of my education.

We went from having one of the nation's leading news papers, when the Binghams owned the paper, to having one of the nation's worst papers when Gannett took over. It is just a bit above USA Today with the Mc News. I am not defending my insistence on still reading the paper, I am rather trying to explain my dereliction in not abandoning this inferior paper.

The day is not complete until I have read the Op Ed page. It gets my ire or dander or whatever, up and running. I read the letters and wonder sometimes where these people live or what they do in life. Are they hampered at all by their lack of comprehension? Do they function as responsible human beings? Do they live in caves? Where did they go to school? Notice that I did not say where did they get their education because the one's I am referring to never got an education.

Now the above comments came from my view because these letter writers do not agree with my take on things. I have noticed that many of them have found the surest way to get published by writing:" Dear Sir I know you will not print this letter because you are so...ya da ya da ya da." Sure fire way to get in print. They view things from some other realm.

About forty years ago, Doc was working in Quality Control at Standard Gravuer and I was teaching dyslexic children to read and Linda was a dental assistant. Brian remarked one day that everywhere we went Doc talked about the quality of the color in the magazines and other printed matter, I diagnosed everybody as being hyperkenetic or dyslexic and Linda diagnosed dental problems that people left untreated. Good observation from an eight year old.

I realize we all make our judgements by our own standards and our own experiences. I read constantly and base a lot of my opinions on what I have read but I mix some of the ideas with the ones' already in my head and try to come up with intelligent assessments. I must say that some of the letters that cause my blood to boil are the ones that are given by non-thinkers.

If I'd cancel the paper how would I stir my brains up and get going for the day? Ciao

You Name It

Once again the computer wins! I typed the title that I was going to use for this entry and when I looked up it said, " you published successfully." Huh? Who did that?Then while I was striving to understand this action it did it again! Rats!

Anyway, this is the most beautiful time of the year! Except when the dogwoods and tulips are in bloom or when there is a fresh newly fallen white snow on the ground, roofs , trees and everything else or when summer skies turn black, grey and ominous and dump tons of water on us amid flashing lightning and thunderous thunder. It is awesome to say the least.

I went out today and each street I turned on to was a blaze of colors. Bright red, muted red, orange, yellow and green. The burning bushes are glorious, so also the maple trees and the dogwoods. I love to walk when the leaves are swirling around my ankles and crunching under foot. I went to Paul's Fruit Market and it was filled with huge and tiny pumpkins, purple and bright yellow pansys, jugs of cider, lots of apples and squash, jars of candy corn and popcorn balls, it was all so festive and fall-ish. It will soon be replaced with Christmas trees, garlands of greenery and nuts and fruits of Christmas, fruit cakes, jam cakes, cranberries and candy canes. The orange and black of today will be nudged aside by the red and green of tomorrow. Time flies.

My radiated spot on my head is still very tender and sore. It continued to get more and more painful after the cessation of the radiation but it is now showing signs of improvement. I have my Donald Trump hair do worked out for now and will await some hair growth in the near future. It will not grow back where the main treatment was aimed but the surrounding area may return. I'll be looking forward to it. Maybe by Christmas I'll have a batch of new hair. Would'nt that be loverly? Ciao

October Colors

October Colors

Hiatus

Soon after I wrote my blog on Friday the 8th my computer decided to quit getting on the Internet. Gregg worked on it for a long time but it did not respond well. It would pretend to be fixed and then refuse to publish and then it would not go to the Internet. I have written all of the happenings since the 8th in my Journal. I will copy my account of the past six or seven days from my Journal because I wrote those notes with feelings that were current at the time of writing. So here goes.

I wrote last, about my Friday treatment which was my eighteenth. It was fairly routine but still hard for me because I have not yet gotten completely over the dread of being locked down to the table in that odious mask.

The relief of knowing that I had Saturday and Sunday free and then just two treatments to face on Monday and Tuesday buoyed my spirits somewhat. The pain has increased as the days go by. Sometimes there is an absolute piercing pain that lasts a few seconds and then settles down to a dull ache. My hair has caused me much distress. It is so filled with the gel type substance that is spread on the area each day and nothing can be done about it. I cannot get that area wet nor can I disturb the blue markings that outline the area of my head to be radiated. I have become very attached to my hats and 4x4 gauze pads.

When I went in for the treatment on Monday, I went with a feeling of peace because I knew the end was in sight. At the end of the treatment, I was unbuckled from the table and after they removed the mask I gave a sigh of relief and remarked, "Tomorrow is my last treatment!"

"Oh no, no," Jennifer said, "you have three more treatments to go. This was just your seventeenth."

I protested stubbornly and kept insisting that it was my nineteenth. She finished cleaning me up and placing the gauze on the wound and then took me out to her station and showed me my records. She showed me the prescription written by Dr. Wharton that called for 20 treatments and then showed me my chart that they had kept on my progress. The last entry for me said "17th treatment" and with today's entry it would be the 18th, indicating that I had two more to go. I was devastated! Especially since I KNEW that it was the 19th treatment!

I had convinced myself that I could tolerate one more encounter with the mask and now they were saying I had two more to go. I was so depressed and down and dispirited that I could hardly stand it. I went home and tried to sleep as much as I could so I could quit obsessing about it. At this point in the ordeal I had reached the point of total fatigue. I was so exhausted and tired of trying to keep a good attitude and all I wanted to do was cry.

On Tuesday Brian took me and unfortunately I had my melt down on the trip up there. I ranted and raved about the mess and disorder in the house, I whined about the pain and discomfort and the unfairness of the fact that I had to go again the next day when I thought I was finished, I had lots of pity for me and I really let it all out. He finally asked if I would like to trade with him. I know he is still struggling to get his house back in order from the fire he had last spring and he is facing surgery for a double hernia and he was coughing with a heavy cold. I agreed that I didn't want to trade. I know you should look about when you are feeling down and out!

When I went into the chamber to prepare for the treatmenton Tuesday Jennifer said she thought the doctor should look at the site before we began because she thought I might have an infected area. She left to get my doctor and returned shortly saying that he was with a patient in the hospital and could not see me till later. She left again to see if she could get one of his associates to look at me. She was gone a long time, that time and she finally came back in with a doctor. He looked closely at my head and said no, it looked OK to him. He then leaned down to me and put his hand on my knee and very gently, quietly said, "...and you are right, this IS your last treatment!" I promptly said that it was no surprise to me, that I was right! He laughed and Jennifer handed me my graduation from therapy certificate and a bag of Hershey Hugs and Kisses. He hugged me, too and then left us to the business at hand. Afterwards, I met with my doctor and I have to go back to see him in two weeks. HE knew it was my 20th treatment.

I had rewarded myself with a new pair of shoes, my first new shoes in way more than a year, and even though I thought I was going to have to have an extra few treatments I had worn my shoes for my own private celebration! They are so cute!

I will write more tomorrow because I must give the after affects of the whole ordeal. I am already getting some of my energy back and I expect to continue to improve. Ciao,ciao

Hello hello! testing

I have written three or four blogs in the past few days and they all float off into cyber space, so I am testing this to see if it will publish. Grrrrrr.

Thursday Again

We are still having patient appreciation week. Today there were baskets of peanut butter crackers, individually wrapped home made cookies, and miniature boxes of raisins. There was quite a mob of people in the waiting room . Some people I had never seen before. We had a very long wait.

They finally called me in to see the doctor. My doctor is on vacation this week so I had to see his associate. They take my blood pressure, temperature, and weigh me before I chat with him.
Seems all is well. He said it looks fine, (yuck)
After the visit with the doctor I was called back for my treatment. It was almost one hour late. They have been 5 or 10 minutes late before but never this late. Karen was a little on edge because she had an appointment at 12 noon and we were getting closer and closer to that time. While I was getting my treatment she called and told them she would be late. Very stressful.

The tech was very apologetic about being so late but she explained that they had a patient that was having a really hard time with the procedure since it was his/her first time. They had to work with the person until they could work it out. I guess I wasn't so bad after all ,on my first visit. It is a traumatic event and it is wonderful that they take as much time as it takes to help the patient deal with it. They are so kind and patient and well suited for the job.

My session went off with out a hitch and I am happy to have one more over with. I have tomorrow and then Monday and Tuesday to go yet. Ciao

Hump Day

When I started this adventure, it was very warm and humid. We had to take a sweater or jacket to wear inside the facility but could shed them on the way out. Now, since time has moved on, it is now quite chilly when we leave the house and a jacket is advisable. We've moved from late summer into fall.

The radiology lab people have decided to honor us with an appreciation week. On Monday I think I mentioned that they had bags of popcorn around the waiting room, Yesterday, they had 'trick or treat' pumpkins sitting around with packets of candy corn, small Heath Bars and Kit Kats in them. Today they had cocktail wieners in barby-cue sauce, a fruit selection, melon chunks, strawberries and pineapple chunks and a yummy cinnamon pastry. Very nice!

I went down for my treatment and along with Jennifer they had another tech (male) who had on red scrubs. I don't recall ever seeing red scrubs, other than the time a few years ago when I had had morphine to ease my pain and I thought the night male nurse had on a red sequined scrub suit. Clearly that was an hallucination. Anyway, this guy was not attuned to my idiosyncrasies and came at me with the mask using a jovial voice and forcing the mask on me and saying," Here we go!' I , once again, felt that I was going to freak out. Jennifer quickly grabbed the mask off and said, in a soothing voice, "Just relax and let me know when you are ready.When I said, "I'm OK now." She put the mask on and we proceeded with the treatment. It did seem much longer but I'm sure it was not. I was so relieved when they unlocked the mask. I took a few deep breaths and then sat up. She made me sit there for awhile while she cleaned up the sight and placed the 4x4 gauze on me and I was OK. I thought I was getting used to the mask but apparently not. Four more days!!! Ciao

Home Stretch

Today was not quite as good as yesterday but it was tolerable. Jennifer took the mask off shortly after putting it on because she said she has learned to read my body language. She put it back on and it was much more comfortable so we went with it.

I'm sure you have all seen that commercial that Sally Field does for Osteoporosis medication? She proclaims in a "Boy, did I ever get gypped" tone of voice...'I have this one body." As if the rest of us had a few spare bodies. We adjusted early on to the fact that we had just one body. We learn to depend on this one body to last us until death doth us part and for many years for most of us it does not let us down. We have complete faith in our bodies as a way of communicating.

We focus on teaching children to read at a very early age but along with teaching them to read the written word we should also be teaching then to "read" body language. It could make them have a much more peaceful life. It comes naturally to many people but some people just don't get it! I'm glad Jennifer can 'read' body language. Otherwise, I would have had a difficult time not freaking out.

Usually when the treatment begins, I lie down on the table and other than worrying about the torture mask and tensing up over that , I feel fine but when the treatment is over and I sit up I am shaky and light headed. Some days are worse than others, the fatigue takes effect almost immediately. Today, I was very tired and had to take some deep breaths to get up the energy to get off the table and prepare to leave. They always let me sit there for a minute while they clean up the site a little and put the 4 x 4 patch of gauze on my head and then I get off the table and put my hat and glasses on. The walk back up to the waiting room seems much longer than it seemed coming down. I had energy yesterday but not so today. I made it into the car and home and then have spent most of the day sitting and watching TV or reading. Ho Hum! Ciao

Good Day!

Today was one of the better days I've had since Sept. 8. It could well be because I slept for eight hours last night. That rarely happens. My two days of recovery from last week's treatments must have done the trick.

I went to the hospital at 10:25 and they were ready for me at 10:30. I didn't even sit down. They had bags of popcorn a stack of napkins and the usual coffee pots brewing for the people that are waiting in the waiting room for their family members. Isn't 10:00 AM a little early for popcorn?

Anyway, the mask went on easily today (whew) and they had the site prepared and had me locked down and said we were ready to go. They left the room but came back quickly and said they needed to make one more adjustment. O.K. They did that and left again and the routine started and before long it was over and they were back unbuckling me. Very smooth for me this time.

Maybe the next six will go as smoothly as that one did! Ya' think?

I came home and found that I had enough energy to clean up a lot of my plants on the deck and bring them into their winter home. It is getting cooler and cooler and they are predicting weather as low as the 30's by next week so I thought I'd get the plants in while I felt up to it.
I really enjoyed the day.

We'll see how the rest of the week goes. Caio

Early Morning Grumps

I did not have a very good day today. I woke up very early and I knew already that I was tired. My stomach hurt and my headache was much worse and I didn't want to get out of bed. It was only 5 AM but I made myself get up and get in the shower and put on fresh clothes and then I ran a few loads of clothes in the washer and went back to bed. I stayed in bed watching the Today Show until about 8:30 and then I got up again and had some breakfast. Still extremely tired, still with a stomach ache and still with a head ache.

Brian took me to the Radiation Center and as usual it was freezing cold in there. It took them a little longer than usual to prepare me for the treatment but it all worked out OK. They kept reminding me that I had two days rest coming up and that really did make me feel not as "put upon." I was very shaky when I got off the table and had to be helped up the ramp. Jennifer felt that she should have gotten the wheel chair for me but I assured her I was fine...well maybe not fine but with a little help from Brian I got to the car and then came home. I got back on the bed and stayed there for two or three hours.

Jane came to visit and bring me some easy food to fix for my dinner. We ate some cheese and crackers and raspberry tea for lunch and visited for quite awhile. I felt better as time went on, not quite so fatigued..I enjoyed her visit. We ventured out for awhile to go to Krogers and pick up my prescription.

I am on my way to bed again now, and hope that I can regain some of my energy . Next treatment report will be on Monday. I hope I can also regain a better attitude by then. Ciao

# 11

When I was growing up there were two medical terms that were totally unheard of by the general population. One of them was "allergy". No one had, or spoke of allergies. We did know of 'hey fever' and as far as foods went people just said, "Cucumbers don't agree with him. Milk doesn't agree with him." If you were afflicted with a food item that did 'not agree' with you, you just didn't eat that food. It wasn't until late in my growing up years that my grandmother expressed her opinion that allergies were a 'new ' thing. She said now everyone has allergies! It was pretty much the same way with cancer. I was in high school before I ever even heard the word 'cancer'. A friend's sister was diagnosed with cancer and we were all made aware that she would not live long. It was pretty much a death sentence. In those early days, the 1940's and 1950's , it was true. If you got cancer you were told to get your affairs in order because the end was near. The most talked about cancer was breast cancer. Saying the word' breast' was almost as verboten as saying the word' cancer'. Saying the words together was obscene. Actually ten or fifteen years ago when the 'breast cancer' was diagnosed the next thought you had was Death.

Think how far we have come! Women refused to accept the fact that that's the way it was and they got busy and insisted on more studies and more efforts be made to find cures and successful treatments for this malady. Breast cancers have decreased somewhat but it is no longer a death sentence when you get it. I have many friends that have had it and have lived through it.

Now, I have thoughts on cancer that may go against the present day conception of cancer. I pretty much object to the word survivor in regard to cancer. People use that term always to talk about people that have had cancer and have had it treated and have lived. Do we say the same thing for a person that has been treated for pneumonia,heart attacks , gall bladder surgery, bleeding ulcers and hundreds of other maladies? Why just call cancer survivors, survivors?
People are identified as people that have had cancer. Cancer does not define me! I refuse to call it "my cancer". It's just cancer and I happened to have had it.

I have survived many, many things, The Great Depression, WW Two, giving birth, Hysterectomy, shopping at Kroger's on Senior Day, teaching eighth graders and the list goes on. Yes, I did survive three internal cancers and a few external ones but still none of these things define me. I am who I am, and who I am may have been affected by these defining moments in my life but I don't think any one thing in my life made me what I am. I'm sort of a Mosaic.

I didn't mean to get carried away there. I have one more radiation over with. I now have just nine left. I still get breathless when they lock those locks down and I still feel monumental relief when they lift that mask off my face but I think I can do it nine more times!

Today one of the other techs did it because Jennifer was off today. She wanted to do it just exactly right so she delayed starting the machine until another person checked to see for sure that she had the settings right. Those extra minutes seemed like an hour. I really was relieved to hear the locks loosened. The other tech told me that it matters if the setting is just 3mm. off

My headache is worse at times but is actually feeling good right now. The bald area looks mighty big when I take the gauze off. I'll have to make adjustments.Oh,well. Ciao

Half way Mark

I have finally hit the half way mark. I look back and realize how long ago it seems since I started and think that I have that many more in front of me. I'm somewhat overwhelmed. In the mundane days of life, we usually cruise along not knowing what is coming and don't spend our days and nights wondering if we are up to the task of surviving what ever is facing us. I know that I frequently ask for God's help in facing life's trials and tribulations, particularly the unknown ones and I still would ask that every day but now I have to add to that prayer to help me be able to live up to the stress of facing that procedure for ten more days. In the light of day it seems like a short time but in the deep, darkest part of night it seems to be monumental. At least I can celebrate today! I did it one more time and it was not so bad at all.

As I believe I've mentioned before in my blogs that I have not been able to wash my hair. Well today lo and behold I have clean hair! What a delight, it's the little things in life sometimes that can give such joy. Andrea came over and we rigged up a way that I could sit on my little step stool and prop my head on the bath tub stool and arrange an old shower curtain and a few towels to catch the drips and we made a make shift protective cover over the radiated area and commenced to begin! It took about four sudsings to get the hair clean and grease free but we did it. Andrea used the hair dryer and dried and brushed it and I felt like a new person. Talk about an attitude adjustment! We took some pictures and I am now sitting here typing without a hat on. How's that for a morale booster?

It actually makes me feel guilty that I spend so much time whining about my plight when I can look around and see so many people that are suffering the terrible woes of this world and don't even have time to whine and complain. I once heard a man say that if we all took our troubles and hung them out on a line, they would all still take theirs and I would still take mine.

I must admit that I am having more pain each day but when I saw the doctor today he said everything looks great and is going well. He will not be there next week, he said, but assured me that his associates would be seeing me. Ciao.

Rad. Nine

Today it is cold outside as well as inside. It was only 47 degrees when I awakened today. It is only expected to be in the 60's today. Same thing predicted for tomorrow but then it is supposed to warm up again.

Confusion reigned today. I got a call from the hospital at 8:15 and they said that the machine was mal-functioning and they would have to move my appointment to 12:15. This presented a problem because Gregg was taking me today and then going to meet Brian at his house so he could do some electrical work for him. They were to meet at 12 noon because that was Brian's lunch time and he could be away from his jobs at that time. Gregg called Karen and asked her to take me today if she could and then he could trade with her for another day. It involved a lot of calls back and forth and during the final call to let me know what the decision was, another call beeped in on call-waiting and it was the hospital calling back to say they got the machine working again and I could come at the regular time! I pays to be flexible in these times!

Anyway, I arrived there on time and had to wait about 15 minutes before being called down to the treatment room. Things went very well today.It took awhile to get me set up and aligned but they finally got it set to their liking. They talked to each other about wanting to have Dr. Stoll come in to look at it one day this week. ( they did have to loosen one lock for me)

The session was not quite as long as it was yesterday but I was able to remain relatively calm and didn't experience any pain from the torturous mask. It was very cold in the room. They have a hard rubber or plastic ring that I hold while the treatment is going on. It's hard to explain but holding that ring with both hands is somehow or other soothing. I've found that the couple of times that I did not have the ring and just clasped my own hands over my mid-drift were more stressful than when I do have the ring to hang on to. Maybe when I am holding my own hands I am aware of tensing up and am passing my anxiety from one hand to the other and therefore on to the rest of my body. Whereas, when I have the ring to hold, my tenseness is blocked somehow by the ring. Sounds crazy, even to me! Maybe the rays are getting to me! Next thing you know I'll be seeing spider webs on the table! (They did say that I did a fantastic job, today.)


Tomorrow, I will be half way through! As my friend, Fanny, used to say, "You never get used to hanging." I would like to prove her wrong but so far I haven't gotten used to this. We'll see. Ciao

Same Place Same Time

The two weekend days go by in a hurry. Fortunately, I can put the mask out of my mind for a few days and I have time to tell myself that I can certainly do this! It'll be over before I know it. I still have not reached the half way mark but I'm getting closer!

Today it is a little cooler outside and a whiff of fall in the air. We got there just on time today and I discovered that I had changed purses over the weekend and forgot to transfer my I.D. arm bracelet to the purse I was carrying. I ask the person at the sign-in desk if that meant I could not have a treatment today because I didn't have my official I.D. with me, but she was sure I had left it home on purpose to try to weazle out of the treatment and insisted on making me a new one! Some people are so acommodating!

They were a little late calling me in to the treatment room. It is a downhill trek to get there. There are stainless steel rails along the wall to assist you and the floor is a beautiful inlaid designed wooden ramp. I can kind of coast down there.

I always have to remove my hat and the protective piece of gauze from my head before getting on the treatment table. I, for some reason or other always forget to remove my glasses. The assistant teck kids me about not taking off my "eye balls". Today I made a concerted effort to remember it on my own without having to be reminded. They laughed and congratulated me on remembering.

They gently placed the mask on but it hurt again and we had to adjust my position on the table. Just a fraction of an inch can make such a difference. They both worked to move my body, or head to get it right before they could proceed. The clamps had to be locked and then unlocked and locked again to accomplish the task. Finally, we achieved the position and they loosened one clamp and said we were all ready to go.

I began my mental gymnastic measuring as they left the room and the treatment started. It was the longest one I've had so far. I went beyond my measurement system but it finally ended. It left me very,very fatigued. I could hardly lift my leg to climb into Karen's car. When I got home, I made it upstairs to lie on the bed. I didn't even remove my hat. I woke up at 3:00 PM. I had to make myself get up and tend to some things that had to be done around here.

Jennifer told me this morning that my skin is starting to break down. It is very red and very sensitive. It will probably get worse as I go along. I have been unable to wash my hair from the beginning of the treatments and as one can well imagine, it is in unbelievable condition. For one thing the gel that they coat the area with is rather grease like and has spread through some of the hair around the site. Since I wear a hat when I leave the house it has not been so noticeable for others to see, but in the house, I keep the gauze over the site and the stringy hair is very visible! Of course there is no hair around the site, it is completely bald. The area that was actually zapped by the rays will remain bald the rest of my life. Andrea is going to have to be creative in cutting my hair and styling it to cover the bald spot.

She and I talked yesterday about what could be worked out for now to get it washed. She is going to call the guy that cuts Gregg's and Brian's hair and used to cut Doc's and see if we can come up there on Wed. and use his shampoo bowl so that she can wash mine. I need to have my head back to get it washed . I got instructions today from the tech and she said as long as we keep the treatment area dry , we should be OK. The area is outlined by a blue marker so it will be easy to know where Not to get wet. We'll just come home after the shampoo and dry and cut it here at home. I am so looking forward to that! The greasy strings are really getting to me. The barbor shop is in the Breckenridge Inn which is just five minutes away so that's why we are going there instead of Andrea's which is about an hour, round trip away from here. I cannot blame this adventure on vanity... my head itches big time in the back and top and pains in the front! What would you do? Shaving my whole head is not an option!!!! ( It may all fall out anyway but if it does, I'll deal with it.)

OK that's enough for this episode. I just keep reminding myself that these are the golden years! Ciao.

This moring at 2:20 AM I was awakened by the phone ringing. I normally get very frightened when the phone rings in the middle of the night but I've been getting calls every now and then from GE employees saying they are not going to be at work. I am always tempted to say that there is a new practice now and they can have the next three days off. So far I've restrained myself. When it rang this morning I answered and it was a female asking what I was doing! I was very civil to her and suggested that she look up the number and be aware of the numbers she was punching. I hung up but she obviously didn't take my advise because she called back in a few minutes. Once I am awake it is almost impossible for me to go back to sleep. So I had quite a few hours to lie there and think up things to worry about. I finally turned on the TV at 4 AM and watched a show whose name I cann't remember.

I decided that I would not need any locks loosened today. It is my eighth treatment and it is time I make a greater effort to accept the fact that it is probably as bad as it gets. So lie there and breathe easily and it will be OK.

Gregg was going to take me but he and Paul stayed here and stripped wall paper off the kitchen walls and Karen took me. There is usually a pretty full waiting room but for some reason there was only one fellow there when we got there. I didn't have to wait long at all. I didn't even have time to look for a magazine. Jennifer, the regular tech, came up to get me and when I got down to the room we were all ready to get started.

The mask slipped on easily and I took deep breaths to relax myself and the treatment began. No problem. My skin is beginning to get pretty red and does hurt now more than it has been. I guess I knew it was coming so I am not complaining. The radiation itself does not hurt at all, its like having a flash light beam aimed at your head but it is beginning to burn the skin. I have twelve more treatments to go.

If my skin holds up and I don't have to take any time off, I will finish up about October 13. Seems a long time to go but I'm hoping it goes quickly.

Big day today! TGIF I don't go back until Monday! Ciao