Showing posts with label aging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aging. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Comfortable Shoes for Not


All my life I’ve worn comfortable shoes. I’m 5’3” tall but I have never felt the need to buy high heel and pointy toed shoes to be tall and stylish. I do own two pairs of “pumps” that I wear with certain business suits. They are not spiked heels (one is an inch and a half and the other maybe two inches at best) and again the toes are moderately pointed and tolerable for a few hours of wear. I’ve probably worn them less than two dozen times total over the last 15 years – always to a job interview or “dress-up” party for work. My daily wear shoes are blocky-toed, stocky flats or barely an inch off the ground.

I thought I’d be safe.

I was wrong.

For the past couple of months my big toes have been hurting me (my right more than my left) and mostly at night when I’m laying in bed. I finally did some research and a self exam with my glasses on (don’t laugh) and have come to the sad conclusion (and self diagnosis) that I’ve got…bunions.

WHAT…THE …F#@K?!!!!

Me?!  Bunions!?

In my research I learned that if it wasn’t caused by tight fitting pointy shoes, it was hereditary. Oy! Since I don’t recall my mother complaining about having them (and she wore heels), it has to have come from my father’s side of the family.

Joy and thanks, Dad! Please have Aunty Mary give me a shout to tell me about her feet issues (btw-they have both passed on to the afterlife).

I also have to add that I find it ironic that a week ago, DP and I went out to lunch and sat nearby a woman with crutches and a special booty wrapped around one foot. We could hear her talking loudly to her companion about bunion surgery.

My eye rolling days are over.

Me and my humble bunions are out of here…

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Blurred Rage

Yesterday I was human…without any Being in sight. An episode added to less than handful of times in my life where “I lost it.” I become inarticulate, screechy, without plan and barely a thought of what I’m doing. Some may indentify this behavior with blind rage, but that seems extreme and violent. This was more of a “blurred rage” which I identify as my sun sign Aries fire bursting through the water of my planets in Pieces. All very pretty sounding - but it wasn’t.

The conflict?

An ongoing battle with our next door neighbor’s dogs charging into our yard. They do this several times a day. You can tell when they are let out of their house you hear the barking begin in the distance, and get louder as they appear beyond our shed running like mad dogs directly into our driveway, barking at our house or under our windows if our German shepherd is not out on her line.

They’ll run up to our fence to terrorize our dogs inside it which sets off our poor guys to barking, and frightened cats scramble to their safe places. They come several times a day, every day. When we come home from work they tear out of their yard (or sometimes our other neighbor’s yard, for they terrorize them, too) and chase our vehicles…four dogs running after our wheels, running in front of us and following us into our driveway. We get out of the car, they are right there barking at us in our own driveway.

There are three mobiles on our road and we all have dogs, but this person is the only one who lets his run free at all times. Everyone else’s dogs are kept well contained behind fence, on leash or on zipline.

For most of the winter it was four dogs until his daughter took two of them with her. Since then it has mostly been two dogs, but sometimes she visits and brings the other two back with her.

Yes, we’ve spoken to our landlord (who we all lease our land from), and yes, we have conferred with our other neighbor who has also spoken to our landlord. But nothing’s been done.

Although we've not been able to capture their barking arrival, here are some video samples, so you can get a feel for what we experience daily,


So, yesterday when the daughter was visiting with her two dogs, it was after the four pack’s third excursion over here that my Aries took action.

In a natural alignment with Aries comes ego and vanity, which is how I explain why I grabbed my raincoat to cover my too tight sweatpants and shirt. I didn’t want to look fat, I guess. I also pulled on my LL Bean rubber mocks and grabbed a yard rake to defend my ankles from the bastards (and I’m glad I did).

After that, I had no idea what I was going to do or say beyond, “I’M SICK OF IT!”

And so, I charged across their lawn chasing four little dogs with a rake, walked right between their house and car with a nipper biting at my heels when the daughter came out of the house and onto their stoop.
I screamed a lot of variations of “I’m sick of your dogs coming into our yard and terrorizing us.” Mind you I have a horrible cold at the moment and my voice is quite the smoker’s grovel. That’s basically all I recall saying in response to whatever she said back to me. She, of course, called me a bitch and told me to get off her property. It sounded so funny to me at the time and even in retrospect, but I didn’t laugh. I felt like I was watching reality TV, but I didn’t feel like its star.

Eventually I woke up with a rake in my hand standing in their driveway and apologized for coming over in attack mode, but said that I felt like I was being attacked several times a day by their pack of dogs. Nothing she said to me made sense or made any difference. This wasn’t a conversation. There were accusations that our dog had done damage to their car, which was impossible because she is never, ever out of our sight.

I came home, cried for a while; looked at the calendar to see how close my period might be coming; got frustrated because the calendar never is accurate anymore; then sat down to write.

It’s been almost 24 hours and I haven’t seen any of their dogs since.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Happy Implant

Piece of cake!

I had a big mouth boo-boo all day yesterday but now it's feeling better. The first stage of the implant procedure, which Dr B called the hardest, was a lot more tolerable than a root canal. Have I mentioned I've had six root canals one of which I've given up for this implant? Actually, it gave up on me by falling out. I hate it when teeth fall out. It used to happen in only dreams…then I actually experienced a hard piece of something in my mouth I had to spit out into my hands! Lo and behold a $1,200 crown sitting uselessly in my palm. It could not be replaced other than with an implant. It took me several years to get up the nerve (and the money)!

I think most people agree dental work is not fun. If there was a hell, having dental work should be right up there on the torture forever list. Sorry Dr B. You're a nice guy and your staff is a great bundle of energy swirling me around from office, to dental chair, to X-ray and back to office and out the door. In less than an hour I was done and walking around in Walmart (don't tell my boss). I took the whole day as a sick day so I could suffer with dignity - alone!

After Walmart I came home and wrote a blog post for someone else's blog. Important heavy stuff about my "life before." It was an honor to be asked and I said yes to being a guest blogger. 

In cat news, we were told by the new vet to give Snafu the herbal tincture on a daily basis. Last night was our first regular dose and the first time he actually laid down beside me and fell asleep! This morning he is his regular chirpful self. Onward we go!

All is good today!

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Funk Breaker


There’s nothing like finding a pool of water under my sink to bring me right out of a funk!

I noticed my faucet was a little loose and I couldn’t put the nozzle/faucet back into its housing securely. When I pulled it out I saw water dripping out from the washers and sliding down the hose, back through the housing and into the cabinet below.

Luckily the washer tightened right up and stopped the leak immediately which helped me to feel very grateful my visions of plummer’s crack nightmare were not going to come true.

Unluckily, a rather deep pool of water had collected in the cabinet under the sink. Everything had a delightful coating of “dew” and it had to be completely cleared out. We store the usual cleaning products and bug repellents under there. A bungee cord secures away any four footed friends. We only lost a few cardboard items but nothing huge. It was good to clean it out and get rid of a few things.

I truly do feel grateful I caught it within days. I know it wasn’t sputtering water last weekend because I was under that sink quite a bit and nothing was awry.

On another note: Today, dear friends, I’m getting my first tooth implant! I said YES to a tooth implant.

My family was cursed with pretty bad teeth. Actually they line up straight enough, and look rather pretty, but my brothers and I were prone to lots of cavities. And in the bad teeth world, cavities progress to root canals and root canals to bridges, bridges to dentures or IMPLANTS! What ain’t silver in my mouth is fake. I think I have at least 5 root canals (and another is now just an open fleshy slot waiting for an implant). Still, we Kolosey’s have a pretty decent smile, and I’m going to have mine for long, long time!

I’m not looking forward to the pain, well not the procedure either, but that will be done and over within an hour or so. The pain can “last up to 72 hours”…then there is waiting for it to heal, which takes months. Yeah, this is how my mind is working as I anticipate the procedure. I’ve got to just live in the moment, live in the moment. Stop thinking about a big drill aiming for my jaw…live in the moment.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

MOPe

All my friends are having hot flashes, why can't I?

My mother went through MenOPause when she was 48. She said it was simple for her…one or two periods missed and then there were none. I've been anticipating my last period since I turned 40. Nine years later and I can still have a baby…woo-hoo.

Can you imagine my joy the first time I missed Aunt Flo? Yeah, that was some four years ago. It turns out it was likely due to stress, and every other time after that, too. To add to my grief, my Cousin Red is now staying longer - a full seven to eight days, where she used to only stay a simple 4 to 5 days.

And you could set the moon by my Womenly Flows, I was so regular and without the help of the pill which, of course I had no need of. These days I might as well throw my calendar up in the air.

While I expect the usual cramps, bloating and lower back ache each month, I hadn't expected them to get progressively worse through these last couple of years. But what can be nearly debilitating when the Red-Tide comes in is the hormonal change in my mood. Okay, that was a glossy way of saying I get depressed.

It's coming - or stopping - I know it, and so I'll just look on with envy when my friends start ripping off their sweaters and turning on their mini fans.


Sunday, April 3, 2011

Freesia

Freesia is my favorite flower scent. Oh, I love Gardenia, along with Roses, but both of them are rather heady when Freesia has a lighter, crisper scent without being too sweet like Honeysuckle. There was a time when my favorite scent was Lauren by Ralph Lauren, then it was Opium for a short time. I even wore Patchouli for several years, but I didn’t really love the smell of it like I did Lauren and Opium. A couple years ago I had this scent made for me with a “too cool” combination of scented oils trying to copy the smell of an oil I was given in a Reiki workshop. It’s also kind of heady.

I love to take deep breaths of Freesia if anyone is lucky enough to get a real live bouquet of fresh flowers.  The other day I thought to myself, they should bottle this so I can wear it and smell it all the time? Then I remembered that they probably do bottle it, so now I’ll look forward to this year’s county fairs and the booth selling pure essence oils and look for Freesia. I also might check out Lilac’s smell to see if it is nice or too heady next to Freesia.

Gone are the musky scents of sexuality that seem heavy and exaggerated to me now. They get caught in my throat and make me cough. I want to smell like something natural, made by the Creator. I want to smell like flowers.

This is how I know I’m getting old.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Crick

Used to be the only problems that kept me from writing when I sat down were enough time, writers block, self-confidence or attention starved kitties.

Now it's a crick in the neck.

My almost-fifty-year-old body does not want to sit anywhere longer than 10 minutes that isn't ‘indently’ familiar. With my new determination to write within the available time I have, I realized I had to be a lot more mobile. I've got notebooks with pens attached and mini-tape recorders for riding in the car. I also use my computer like the laptop it was designed to be and carry it around the house with me. What a concept!

So I plug it in above the toaster and open it on the kitchen counter to type notes while I'm doing other chores (not making toast). Oh, but this is not the angle my neck likes to be held in!

“HEY!” It says to me if I tilt it the wrong way for a few extra minutes. Of course my almost-fifty-year-old eyes have to peer through the half inch circumference of my tri-focals to find which ‘tri’ will provide ‘focal’ whilst my head scans up and down.

I plop my laptop on the kitchen table and sit to hammer out a few lines of thought for a half hour and “TWEEEEK!” my hips tell me. This is not the office chair!! Why aren't my legs in the right place??

I set up my card table in the living room, but had to go through two chairs and four variations of pillow arrangements and a hassock to make this body happy for the actual hours I spend there.

The other night DP made a kind suggestion to place my card table in a certain spot over one of our dog crates, so I could just pull up a chair and write and not have to set it up and break it down each time. I stared at her blankly; I can't start all over again in a new spot, my body screamed at me.

"I...I...I need a hassock," I finally muttered walking away, shaking my head.

She never spoke of it again.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

365 Days Until I'm 50


This body I was born into will be 50 years old in 365 days. Yes. Today (March 26, 2011) is my 49th birthday. To celebrate, I'm beginning this new blog, because I've put it off long enough.

Here is where I thought I'd write a list of things you should know about me, but then I realized that would take all the fun out of our mutual discovery. I'd be confining myself to a bunch of concepts, inviting preconceived judgments and perhaps expectations which I'm sure to disappoint.

I'd like to keep the option open to change.

During my 49th year I have decided to say yes. Yes to any number of invitations, ideas, friendships, and opportunities that in the past I would have said no to. Yes to its time to start a blog. It is time to make connections and expand my world. I’m a bit frightened but terribly excited.

Today my expectation is post every day. This is a challenge that my friend and writing coach has invited me to take. She has taken that same challenge from her writing coach and you can find her new daily blog here. I'll also put the link in my blog roll.

Today I also expect the nature of this blog will be about spirituality, aging (including that most lofty goal of menopause), women, a writing life, my past experiences and how they affect my current behavior, living with 12 pets and a whole lot more I have yet to think up. I reserve the right to rant on occasion, but I pledge to you (and me) that I will strive for understanding, acceptance, surrender and peace.

I will strive to be brief with an occasional longer essay so you can read my post, comment or not and go about your business.

I’m likely to be emotional - high and low. That’s just a warning for you.

I invite your comments, observations, and questions. I also invite you to become a regular follower. Please come back tomorrow.

Won’t this be fun?

~Lisa