Started with barfing, ended with giggling

Last Saturday, Mom and I spent the morning cleaning my breezeway (after ripping out the carpet on Monday!) and it was hot, hot, hot.  She left around 4, and I took a shower and a nap, packed a bag for two nights and headed to Mom & Dad's for an exciting evening of making 4 large batches of buffalo chicken dip.

Sunday morning I had a headache and Dad was grumpy, but we were on the road by 9:30 and headed for Columbus.  The elder of my nephews graduated from high school on May 20, and his party was set for Memorial Day.  In addition to the buffalo chicken dip, we also had 7 1-gallon bags of sweet snack mix and 5.5 1-gallon bags of savory snack mix, plus the big cooler which was temporarily full of bags of tortilla chips & corn chips.

We pulled into the driveway at 11:30ish.  Mom popped right out of the car, and I saw my brother approach the front passenger side where Dad was sitting.  As Dad rolled down the window, he said, "What is Captain Crossword doing here?" and I thought he was talking about Jeeves until I looked up and saw that my baby brother was in fact in Columbus instead of Dallas!  Turns out that Mom had arranged to fly CC, Bookworm Mathgeek and the girls in and kept it a surprise from everyone.U

After that we had a quick lunch of New York-style pizza, then commenced with the party prep.  It was nice to chat with CC and Bookworm and catch up.

Unfortunately, I woke up at 7 with the beginning of a migraine, including the barfing.  Mom went out and got me some Excedrin Migraine, I took 2, had a hot shower and went back to sleep.  When I woke up at 11, the nausea was gone and my headache was manageable, so I took 2 more pills and got dressed.

The party went very well, with tons of friends, neighbors and family, including my mom's brother from Florida and her sister from Cincinnati.  The food was great, there was lots of laughter and silliness and everyone had a good time. 

The best part of the day for me was late at night, when the cleanup was done, the outdoor light was off but the pool was still illuminated, and Jeeves and I had a long heart-to-heart talk.  Of  course, because we are siblings, he had to psych me out, pretending he was going to shove me in the pool. :-D

So the day that started with barfing, ended with giggling as I lay in bed thinking about my brother.

Thanksgiving Weekend To-Do List

Updated Saturday, 11/26/16

1.   Be thankful.  Doing that all day, for my family, my friends, my dog, my job, that there are books and food and music in my life.

2.   Take out compost.  Once, plus washed out the sink-side container and have started a box for floor sweepings and plant trimmings.  

3.   Take out recyclables.  I made two trips out on Thursday and one on Friday, and then took the container out.  After the pickup I realized I still had a bagful of stuff from work, so I went out and got the bin and re-filled it halfway.

4.   Load dishwasher, run dishwasher, unload, load.  I'll probably run it once more tomorrow night.

5.   Scan and e-mail stuff to Mom.  Done, despite an elderly and cranky printer

6.   Make my bed. Every single day, yay me!

7.   Make the dog's bed.  Also every single day, so another yay!

8.   Fold and put away clean clothes. Done, but will have to do it again tomorrow night after laundry morning at Mom's.

9.   Hang up and put away other clean clothes. Same as #8

10. Clear off flat surfaces. Didn't get done. :-(

11. Clean said flat surfaces.  Didn't get done. :-(

12. Hook up Magic Jack and call Scary Bear. Didn't get done. :-( But if I clean off the desk, maybe he can do it while he's waiting for the washing machine... }:)

13. Buy washing machine.  Got a great buy on an Electrolux from HH Gregg, and they surprised me by saying it will be delivered on Tuesday, which is too soon.  When I called to reschedule, the CSR told me my order had been cancelled and if I attempted to place it again it would be cancelled again and I should go to the store.  Ugh.

14. Get all plants in from the garage.  All 28 of them.  Ouch.

15. Get all plants arranged in house.  I've got one spider plant I don't have room for and am loath to toss onto the compost because it's healthy, damnit!

16. Go water-walking.  Gave this up in lieu of getting plants in and the breezeway semi-tidied because I am hoping Dad will be here to let the washing machine people in.

Six thousand steps before lunch and panhandled by a toddler

It's been a bit since I posted here, and I still need to finish my travelogue!  All I can say is that I haven't felt like writing.  Somehow, the day on Thursday made me want to write it up.  A couple of weeks ago I bought I cheap pedometer from Walgreens.  I've been averaging 4-5000 steps per day and hoping to get better as time goes on.  On Thursday I had 6000 by lunch and another 3000 by bedtime!

A little background: in 2014, the judge set up twice-monthly hearings where interested* parties have a chance to object to estate inventories and accounts.  I'm in charge of pulling the files, giving them to the magistrate covering the hearing, explaining the rules to people who want to object, checking folks in and sometimes explaining to people who show up that they don't need to be there when nobody has objected.

Some hearing days we have no cases, some days we have lots of cases, and on days like Thursday, we have only a few cases with a boatload of people.  They all need to be herded into groups and then into the hearing room one case at a time, and sometimes kept apart if there are strong emotions at play.  The magistrate took people into the hearing room on the basis of "First case with all their people here goes first" and once she had the first case being heard, I had a minute to call the attorney for one side of the third case, because she hadn't shown up yet.

The parties for our three cases were interesting.  One had a trio of African-American great-aunts, ladies who looked like they had seen some shit and weren't taking any, another had a really arrogant asshole attorney and the third had a guy who looked, sounded, and shook hands like he'd been living in a cave his whole life.  Damp, pallid, skinny and doughy.  ::shudder::

So in the middle of running back and forth herding cats and occasionally stopping at my desk to try to work on guardians' accounts, I was stopped by the gumball machine by an adorable little boy who asked me if I had a quarter.  Softie that I am, I gave him two.

Things were calmer once the magistrate cleared all the cases.  I call her "The Fastest Pen in the Midwest" for good reason--in one of the cases, she had her decision to me before my colleague had even docketed the attorney's notice of appearance. :-)

I did manage to get all the accounts and inventories published or approved that afternoon and cleared my desk of a boatload of work.  I also got a notification that a library book I'd been waiting on had come in, so I stopped on my way home to pick it up.  My phone rang when I was two blocks from home, but I knew it just meant Mom had beat me to the house, so I didn't answer.

Mom and Dad have been emptying the attic, so Mom brought over a bunch of unused carpet scraps for me to put out for the fabric recycling company to pick up Friday morning.  I fed the dog and let her out and put her away again while Mom was stuffing bags and carrying them to the curb.  I helped with the last bag and then we were off to Home Goods.  Mom had a bunch of rewards, so she gave me half, and I got the softest new blanket and a shedload of hand soaps (for home and for work) and three yummy-smelling Halloween candles.

After that we had dinner at Aladdin's and then went to Gabriel Brothers, where I found a gorgeous fall jacket for only $12.99 and Mom looked at all the bras and didn't buy any because they were all push-ups.  I got home about 9, lit the juniper and clementine candle and was glad that Mom & I had gone out, even after a very busy day.

*"Interested" is used here as a legal term--someone has to have a stake or share in the estate, not an interest in the sense of curiosity.

Get off mah lawn!

The good news is that I now have a cane to wave at any young whippersnappers, plus I have really adorable knee dimples. The bad news is that I have a fucking cane on the day I am reading at the wedding of my oldest friend in the world because I wasn't paying attention last night and missed a step into the garage. One. Damn. Step. I got up, got the dog food out of the car, came in the house and went about my normal routine, including evening meds and bed at 11. I woke up at 3 with horrible pain, and because my knee wouldn't support my weight, it took me an hour to get dressed and put the dog downstairs and drive myself to the hospital. After x-rays, ibuprofen, an ice pack and some shade from a young male doc about my weight, they set me free at 6 to go pick up more meds and a cane. I have to give a huge thanks to the pharmacist on duty at my local Walgreen's. He let me wait in my car in the drive-through, went out to the retail side and got me a quad cane, filled my prescriptions and ran it all through my insurance while being incredibly nice. Then we worked together to get the cane through the drive-through window so I didn't have to go inside.

So I got home, fed LMPP, took some ibuprofen and fell asleep for a few hours. I am going to this wedding and I am stopping to pick up a frame for the magical wedding certificate Violante de Rojas made for the brides.

Of course, I am also going to look like a damn fool, because I am one.

Downs and ups

Wednesday was Call Day, which is the one day of the month when I play bailiff, and although I've gotten much better at it in the last year, it's still a little stressful.  Then I had a co-worker have a hissy fit at me (I think as a stand-in for the rest of the world) and give me work that she didn't feel she could do impartially.  So I fell off the non-smoking wagon. :-(

Thursday was an appointment with my regular doc to see if she'd be willing to take over prescribing my Lexapro.  My neurologist was responsible for it, but it costs $500 to see him, and even if I only pay $60 of it, add in driving time, cost of gas, cost of parking and it adds up quickly.  In addition, the county is self-insured and I'd like not to be the straw that broke the county's back.  Dr. J was willing to prescribe Lexapro for me, but when I asked about an increase, she said I'm at the maximum safe dosage.  So she put me on 5 milligrams of Wellbutrin, and asked me to come back in 6 weeks.

I went in to work, did the Orders from Call Day, which the judge has to sign, and came home and slept.  I'm not proud of that bout of self-pity, but it happened and now it's over and I'm moving on.  Moving on was helped immeasurably by a phone call from my friend Doc, who has been my friend since second grade--she's getting married, and she graciously acceded to my demand to be the clerk who signs her marriage license.

Three of us had drinks after work Friday night and had fun.  I'm still looking forward to Universal with Captain Crossword and the Princesses, and meeting Jen and John from Cakewrecks, and yes, my friend Donna backed up the wagon so I can climb back on.  So life is far from awful, and I have many, many, lots of things to which I look forward.

This is your brain on migraine

So I missed work yesterday because of the first migraine in 5 or 6 months.  I spent the day sleeping, got up and assessed, had a hot bath and some more meds and then moar sleeping.

I woke up with a bit of a headache but also with my typical post-migraine thing where I'm jittery and so sensitive that it feels like my nerves start four inches outside of my skin.  I managed to get dressed and drive to work, and get through 3 hours (including auditing one fiduciary account and one guardian account) before the headache started to grow and my sense of smell tripled.  The latter is my biggest pre-migraine warning, and I heeded it and gtfo of work.

When I got home, I let the dog out, explained to her that it wasn't 4:20 so no, not dinnnertime, took off my coat and went to turn up the heat.  Oh, shit, the thermostat screen is blank and none of the buttons make it be not-blank.

Schlep down to the basement and check the breaker, which is in its proper position.  Flip it off and then back on again on General Principles (salutes).  Come back upstairs and call 1-800-DADHELP.

Unfortunately, Dad is still sick with flu or norovirus, whichever one he got last week.  He listens to me try to word and tells me to call Hudson Heating.  I do, and speak with a nice young woman who tells me they can have someone at my house between 1 and 4.  There goes my nap, but okay, maybe I can color while I wait.  Two minutes after we hang up, a different young woman calls and asks if I checked the batteries in the thermostat.

Headdesk.  No, I did not.  Guess what it turned out to be?  I called everyone back, with lavish praise for the young woman at HH who saved me the cost and embarrassment of a service call.

I forgive both Dad and myself for missing something so obvious because WE R SEECK and I have heat and a marginally clearer head after meds and a three hour rest.

Some days I wish I were a dog

Little Miss Piggie Pie is sleeping on the floor by my chair, blissfully ignorant of the nasty things called "consequences" which have plagued me all day.  It's not that they don't apply to her, just that she doesn't think that far ahead.

Ignore your laundry for two weeks, get a Horta on the basement floor (image courtesy of Mallie)
Smoke for 35 years, have lung issues.
Quit smoking, gain 11 pounds.
Sleep on an 18 year old mattress, have a sore back.

Nothing horrible, nothing earth-shaking, just irritating, especially because it's my own fricking fault.

This post brought to you by the letter W, for whining...

because all I can think of this a clip from Murphy Brown in which Candice Bergen, with the help of her castmates, sings the following song to a cigarette:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etObzeLEjDM&list=PL3067A5A3AAE31596&index=9

I have had one cigarette in the last week, and a very expensive boatload of nicotine gum and lozenges.  It has made me worry about how self-destructive I am, because even when I can feel that my lungs need me to quit, I still want to smoke.  I've gained seven pounds, and I know it's just a matter of keeping on, but damn, it's hard.  My boss and my mom are being super-supportive on a daily basis, and I know that my friends are there for me.  One pssstinking* day at a time.

*neologism courtesy of Smoke and Mirrors by Tanya Huff, a true 5-star book and one of my comfort reads.

NYC Day 5, Monday, October 12

Sunday night I was in bed and asleep by 10, only to wake up at 3 because I was coughing so hard.  Trying to avoid waking Mom (ha!) I got up and made a bed on the sofa where I could sleep upright.  Well, I managed the upright, but not the sleeping.  Mom slept a bit, but mostly didn't because I was noisy and she was worried about me.  When it got light, she got dressed and went to two different drugstores looking for an expectorant.  All of my effort was going to getting oxygen into my body.  At this point I was pretty sure that the chest cold had deepened into bronchitis, and all I wanted to do was get home.

What I experienced was a combination of asthma attack and panic attack.  I was gasping for air and not getting it and my brain was doing panicked little rodent dashes in every direction.  Not something I want to experience again.

After some discussion between all four of us, we decided to leave for the airport in time to put the early flyers (both Bookworm and Anabel) on their planes, since Mom and I would have to move very slowly.  However, that plan went out the window when I lost all my breath walking the ten or so steps from our room door to the elevator.  I told Mom I was going downstairs and have the clerk call 911, which I did.

After a short wait time, during which my sisters-in-law agreed to go to the airport so they didn't miss their planes, an ambulance and two nice EMTs arrived.  They asked some questions, listened to my lungs and my heart and told me they needed to take me to ER.  So we left my carry-on and both of our suitcases at the hotel and got in the ambulance.  The EMTs gave me a breathing treatment in the ambulance, and somehow it was vanilla-scented.

Everyone at Mount Sinai Roosevelt was very nice.  I saw a nurse, the attending physician, the X-ray tech and two residents and they all worked very hard to help me get home.  I had an additional two breathing treatments and an order to see my primary physician (who I don't have) and got the news that although the ER docs did not want to make an official diagnosis, all three are pretty sure I have COPD.  A warning--that link has a very unpretty picture right at the top of the page.  The hospital discharged me in time to take a cab back to the hotel for our bags and out to the airport.  Fortunately, the line for security was very light and the gate was close-ish to security.

Getting out of the airplane at Cleveland turned out to be more of a task.  Climbing up the ramp exhausted me to the point where all I could do was collapse into a chair.  Fortunately, Cleveland Hopkins has some exceptional special employees who help customers who need assistance, and one of them got me into a wheelchair and all the way down to baggage and then to the park and fly shuttle.  I know Mom tipped her, but I really wish I could remember her name.

Anyway, yes, the elephant in the blog--am I going to quit smoking?  I already have, thanks to Monday, the only question is whether or not I can make it stick.

Miscellany

I've posted so many entries to Bubbles & Baubles that it feels weird to start this one without a disclaimer at the top!  It was a good week at work.  I met a couple of nice women from my city who were serving as jurors on an ugly case, my boss came to talk to me about some suggestions I'd made to our notices, citations and call day (and she left with my good pen!) and I didn't even think about killing or maiming anyone. :-)

I did think some nasty thoughts about someone else who works in the courthouse.  I don't know who she is, but she drives a black Cherokee with some distinctive window art.  A couple of weeks ago she pulled that "zoom up the far right line at top speed and then jump into the far left lane just before you need to turn" move.  Okay, I really, really dislike that move, but I didn't want her to die in a car fire until I got caught in a lane I didn't realize was closed ahead and she wouldn't let me in the other lane.  Selfish cow.  DIACF.

Next week is going to be a really good week for books--a new Cherie Priest book (squee!), a new Seanan McGuire book (squee!) and a new Terry Pratchett book (squee!) which is sadly the last Discworld novel ever (sniffle) will all be mine by the end of the week.

This morning was interesting--I had to go to the grocery store and get frozen food, then come home and stuff it in the freezer so I could go work out.  I put my bathing suit on under a dress and shopped and unloaded successfully and did the unthinkable in terms of the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

I forgot my towel.

Now, if you've been to Casa de Jammies, you know that the Natatorium is only about 2 miles from my house, but when I got there and realized I'd forgotten my towel, I didn't go back for it.  The reason was in part because I didn't want to waste gas, but also in part because we had a storm forecast, and I didn't want to miss my window before it started and the pool got closed because of lightning.  It turns out I didn't need to worry about that, but I worked out anyway and then drip-dried in the car on the way home.

We hates the quad stretcheses, Precious, yes we do.  Nassssty, nasssty horrid little stretcheses.

Yesterday, one of the local radio stations played a live version of Fleetwood Mac's "Rhiannon" complete with horrible feedback squeal, and this morning, the album version was the last song I heard played as I finished my workout.  So here's a little Stevie & co. so you can share my earworm:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_aYibUx1B8

Things I have learned in the past week

1.  It really sucks when you have a black eye and an allergy attack which makes your eyes itch.

2.   I stink at typing with a cold pack held to one eye.

3.   There is a line between "summer casual" and "escaped from the ER before they got the restraints on you" and some people are not afraid to cross it and then come to court.

4.  Our local hospital chain thinks prohibiting any personal expression in hair color or tattoos is unprofessional, yet dressing medical staff in all black is professional and so is making fun of Walmart shoppers.

5.  My new-ish co-worker loves makeup as much or more than I do, but she's not a big fan of horror novels.

6.  Hoicking boxes filled with books around the living room two days after a major fall is Not A Good Idea.

7.  I am not a complete loser when it comes to nail art.

Two more days

(hopefully) until the kitchen floor is finished.  One more day (hopefully) until the appliances are back in place and I don't have to have yet another bowl of granola for dinner.  I like granola, I'm just tired after a week of it for dinner.

After my trip to Cleveland last week, I missed two more days of work thanks to a nasty case of bronchitis, something I haven't had for a decade.  I haven't missed it at all!  Then, just to put the grey icing on the cupcake of doom that was last week, in addition to the floor being sanded, I developed a sinus infection.  I am now recovering from both illnesses, but it's been a week I don't want to live through again any time soon.

Also, I decided that I am going to bring the map home from Cleveland and just plain have it framed at Joann or Michael's or Pat Catan's.  I don't need to spend $2,000 for museum-quality framing for something I just want to hang in my living room and enjoy.

Oh, and Little Miss Piggie Pie continues to have the staff at Valley Animal Hospital snowed--they tell me every day how sweet she is.  However, in her favor, she was a snuggly little girl last weekend when I needed a nap partner, and she didn't even huff much when my coughing shook her off the bed.

I am mercifully NOT currently perched on Rex's Erection with a water gun in my hand

Mercifully because after three days of "Do this.  No, we don't like this.  Do that.  Ha!  Fooled you--do that, but someplace else" from the miserable troglodytes at Express Scripts, I finally have my Lexapro refill.

Ever since Tuesday, when my nurse practitioner called in a new script to my local grocery store pharmacy, Express Shits has turned down the script twice, not told me until I called them, and then given me directions that turned out also not to work.  Everyone I had face-to-face interactions with was so very nice that I couldn't vent my rage, which just made it harder to cope.

Finally, after a second pharmacy was called and was willing to call the first pharmacy to transfer the prescription (since it had been e-mailed in, not faxed or written on paper) and I'd spent most of my breaks and lunches on hold, I got my Lexapro.  Of course, I had to wait for nearly 45 minutes at the second pharmacy because Express Shits kept asking for more info that they didn't have, but I got it.  I no longer feel like a donkey on the edge, and I am no longer tempted to climb a tower with a Super-Soaker in my hand.

Oh, and stop that, you dirty-minded people, I'm talking about a local landmark. :P

Ahh, a nice big thunderstorm!

Nothing like one of those for scouring all the allergens out of my life!

Today's menu: cranky with a side of I hate DST

One of my least favorite days of the year is the first work day after the ridiculousness that is "Spring Forward".  Seriously, Daylight Savings Time is stupid and harmful and I can complain about it for paragraphs, but I shall spare you.

Add in the fact that tomorrow is Call Day and I have a co-worker who didn't help me put together the list sniping at me over an omission and an attorney whining about how it doesn't fit in his schedule, then add in a brutal sinus headache on a pretty, sunshiny day, and you have a recipe for a grim day.

Right now I am thinking that I'm not going to mend the hem on my blue pants, just tape up the ripped stitches and fix them later.  Maybe next weekend.

Grrrr.

Random factoids

Yes, another list, because I lack the brainpower for narrative structure.

1.  I have my first chest cold in quite a number of years, and it's as horrible as I remember.  I left work early on Thursday, called off on Friday, and had a holiday today, so a long rough weekend.

2.  Little Miss Piggie Pie had her annual pincushion appointment this morning, and had to be muzzled for snapping at Dr. Bob despite a handful of Bil-Jac treats.  The good news is she's finally gained some weight, and he thinks she's perfect at 54 pounds.  She got more treats when we stopped at Pet Supplies Plus to get dog food--I hope she doesn't think that kind of treatment is going to last! ;-)

3.  On the way home today, I passed by the repair shop owned by the guy who bought my Saturn.  Norm is a 17 year-old Saturn SW1, with no luxury options and 118,000 miles, and the guy who paid me $600 is asking $3195.  Good luck, Mr. Lotsaballs!

4.  My taxes are done and I am getting a teensy refund, which will go straight to the Cleveland Clinic to pay my portion of the bill for my MRI.

5.  There is a blizzard going on outside right now, and even with a racking cough and lizard-rough dry skin from taking a zillion hot showers, it's nice to look at it.  I do like snow, and I'm trying to store up some cold for when I'm miserable in August.

That didn't work out the way I had it planned...

As a duly appointed deputy clerk, I had today off along with the rest of the county employees.  I had promised Mom a trip to Nordstrom Rack and lunch at The Cheesecake Factory, so when the chance came to have lunch with an author friend in town from Baltimore, I had to pass.

I slept in until 7, which is the longest Little Miss Piggie Pie will let me sleep, then had my coffee, read a bit, noodled around on the computer, then got dressed and drove out to Hudson.  Dad was working on an antique clock which he had inherited from his grandfather, and Mom was getting ready.  Even though today is a no-mail day, Mom asked me to zip through the Post Office drive-through so she could mail some letters.  We did so, and just before we got on the expressway, my intestines attacked me, and I wound up driving us both back to her house so I could wash my pants (beige, of course!).

No sooner was I in one of Mom's robes and feeling happy to have lost enough weight to fit in one and my pants in the washer than my stomach and guts started cramping.  Mom gave me a Vanity Fair to read, I got myself a glass of ice water, Dad went back to bed and Mom went upstairs to work.  By the time my pants were dry, I was not up to going shopping, let alone going shopping and out for lunch.  Mom and I rescheduled for Sunday, and I came home and slept for the rest of the day.

...and then the princess turned back into a troll

Tuesday night was really lovely.  I got out, met new people, got my hair done and a goodie bag, ate lovely food and talked nail polish and techie toys, and just felt like a princess all evening.

Sadly, I woke up Wednesday morning at 3 a.m. with a migraine, too far advanced for me to keep anything down, including meds or coffee.   I relied on a hot shower followed by an ice pack until it was time to get dressed and go to work.  I had, I thought, brought home a bunch of documents that needed to be filed, so I headed for downtown Akron.  At the very end of my drive, a turnoff I needed to take was closed, so I wound up in an unfamiliar area and missed the detour.  Once I was done with a long trip the wrong way and back, I parked the car and went to put my wallet and car keys in the envelope folder where the documents were.  Ohshit.  I had picked up the wrong folder, and everything I needed to file was at Mom's house, 30 minutes away.

Head still hurting, I tried to do the rest of my errands.  I went to the bank, forgot to go to Office Max, went to drop off my vacuum at the repair shop only to find out that they didn't open until 10, and got lost trying to find the paper recycling dropoff.  So I went to the office, only to find myself in the middle of a shrill squabble between a nursing home and a ward's family.  By the time I left, driving home in the sunshine was miserable.

But at least after the Monday from Hell and before the Wednesday from Hell, I had a few hours of fun, and now I have a whole weekend under my bridge to nest and read and play before I have to go back out in the scary world, and I am thankful for that.

Of course, I am as always, thankful for my family, my friends, my dogs and my health, and I wish all of my US friends and family a very happy Thanksgiving.

Quick update

1. I turned down a job in Columbus because I'm not ready to move, but it was nice to have the offer.

2. I ripped off half a toenail a week ago and it still hurts.

3. In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, Mouse got distressingly and messily sick in my bedroom, leading to a 4 a.m. wakeup and much laundry, followed by an excruciating morning as Mom and I worked on an estate where the final balance had to be divided between 14 people in 3 generations.  Ack, fractions!

4. We got it done and out, yay!

5. Apparently, some people think it's okay to send 38 or 57 page faxes.  No, no it's not.

6. I am still alive. :)

EEEEEEEEEEK! IT'S IN THE HOUSE!

On Thursday I carted two boxes of clothing from our Ward who died from the nursing home to the woman who had cared for him and was going to redistribute the clothing.

On Friday I woke up with teeny-tiny fluid-filled blisters all over both hands and my left arm. I checked WebMD, and in a truly disgusting slideshow about common insect bites, found that scabies bites matched the blisters on my hands. I called my doctor's office, and they squished me into the schedule, and then I had about five hours to worry, fret, and try not to scratch.

After seeing the very nice Dr. H., I was reminded why hypochondriacs should not be allowed to search the internet. Without any hint, she asked if I was a gardener and said I had poison ivy rather than scabies. She wanted to give me some steroids to help my skin heal a little more easily, but since they do such a number on my stomach, we settled on calamine and benadrool.

I spent the rest of the day in a benadrool fog, trying to remember if I'd seen ANY three-leaved plants anywhere in the garden. Yes, I've been weeding the lavender bed like mad, but all I really remembered were nettles and lamium. The lamium can't hurt, and I left the nettles in place until I could get back out with my gloves and long sleeves on.

On Saturday, I was reelling in the hose when I saw several three-leaved plants growing up underneath the hose cart. I'll have to get back out there once I have some more Roundup on hand. I know the traditional method of disposal is to burn the plant, but that's a little too close to the house for me to be lighting fires.

Today, I was hauling all the houseplants off the breezeway and outside, and just barely noticed a three-leaved plant sticking up out of the pot I almost had my face in. Like any good last girl, I screamed and backed away, then sat down and thought. Roundup in my geraniums is NOT an option, fire in my geraniums ditto, but I think if I put on gloves and long sleeves I should be able to dig the whole thing out with a trowel.

But that's a chore for tomorrow. For tonight, I have to shudder and try not to scratch all the imaginary and non-imaginary itches.