Ouch!

 I'm going to let you in on a secret. I have a good side and a bad side. No, it's not really what you think. You see, since around 2008, medically, I have had a good side and a bad side. About that time, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Subsequently, I had all of the known (at that time) treatments to combat the disease. Thankfully, I have survived, but I live with the effects of those treatments.

I favor my bad side. For quite a while, I lifted nothing heavy with my right arm. To this day, although it is my dominant arm, it's a bit weaker than my left arm. I never have shots or blood pressure taken on that arm, either. I'm a bit lop-sided. As the years go on, the differences in my sides, seem to increase.

Fast forward to the past year. A majority of Americans have had the Covid 19 Vaccines. And, most recently the booster shot. Because I have no lymph nodes on my bad side, my good side has taken all three of these treatments, and it's not happy about it. It's been nearly a week now, since the last shot, and my left arm is still hot to the touch. I've developed a rash near the injection site. It still hurts, when I move it. Similar things happened, the last two times. For the present, I have two weak sides!

Now, I am not complaining......Okay, I am!

Truly, I am extremely thankful, that I haven't had Covid 19, and I am positive that the vaccines are the reason for that. However, please note that I (and my good side) will certainly be thrilled when a good anti-viral pill gets developed. Hurry up science and help me get both of my sides working together again!

Dear Lord. I am thankful for modern medicine, and the opportunity to live a long and full life. I realize that I need to work on my patience and thankful spirit. Life is good and I am grateful.

History, according to Nancy

 I was introduced to a new word, this Thanksgiving Holiday.....Historiography. According to my son's apt explanation and the Net's definition, Historiography is learning and researching history through stories and particularly photographs.

That got me thinking and doing a little research myself. Photos can tell quite a bit about a person. Over the years, my hair has gone from dishwater blond (it started getting darker when I was about three or four) to very dark brown, then grey and now almost white. That's some historiography, for you.

And, how about clothing. Sometimes, I look at an old picture of me and realize that a piece of clothing I was wearing in 1990, is still in my closet and I wore it again, last week. That jacket came from the last century, it is over 30 years old and I am still wearing it. It's had a good life. It's old. I need to let it go! It needs to be pitched! Historiography, per Nancy.

My home is filled with photographs of my family, immediate and extended. They provide a rich history and a visible record of changes in the lives of people I love and care about. History in Kodachrome. 

Lord, we are blessed to be Your family. Teach us to treasure the old things, but remind us to focus our energy on the here and now. We praise Your Holy Name.

It's An Open Book

It's inevitable, I guess, that as we age, certain tasks become more difficult. However, it surprises me that, suddenly, my ability to open every day items has diminished enormously!

Saturday, it was the bag, within the box of cereal. The box opened easily, but the inside bag, containing the cereal, would not be pulled apart. It was the toughest plastic, imaginable. I finally had to cut it open with scissors.

Monday, it was the top in the plastic milk jug. Seems like it used to be so easy. Just lift the little ring and pull. What good is dry cereal without milk? 

Tuesday, it was the covering on a little bitty cup of fruit cocktail. That top must have been superglued to the bottom. I finally got it off, after spilling half of the juice!

The box of rice said, "push here to open". I pushed and poked. No luck? Got out a knife and cut the thing open.

I'm hesitant to mention "child proof" lids. I try to avoid them, no matter what the cost! Bags, boxes, screw-off, pry-off, wine corks. All of them are a struggle! 

Let's consider filing a age discrimination law suit. We need repackaging, just for old folks. If this is old age, where do I hire an Assistant...........someone to just drop in every day and open my stuff? 

Dear Lord. I know I am complaining about the little stuff. Give me patience and perseverance. Keep me focused on my blessings. 

Peaked

 Several weeks ago, I embarked on what was to be a simple craft project. In my quest to find the perfect Christmas Tree Topper (I've been looking for a couple of years, with no success.), I decided to make one. Cheaper, I thought, and a unique, work of art! 

Size 10 string yarn, the old fashioned doily type, is very inexpensive. I already own crochet hooks of every size and type. Easy peesy! So, I downloaded a FREE pattern, from the internet. Voila! I was in business.  In a couple of days the base of the topper was completed. At this point, my fingers were starting to cramp up and I began to think I may need to schedule a trip to the Ophthalmologist. But, I persevered, with my goal hazily in sight.

A week later, after a trip to the craft store for 2 sheets of foam board, poster board, foam cone, rust-proof pins, duct tape and white glue, I'm realizing that this little project may come in under fifty bucks, if I'm lucky. The average store-bought Tree Topper is about $19.95! But by now, three large star-shaped doilies and the base are ready for assembly.

Another trip to the store to buy Epson Salts. I couldn't find plain old Epson Salts, however I did locate a package, scented with Eucalyptus and Spearmint. Then, following instructions, I proceeded to boil water and salts to make a stiffener. I soaked the doilies, pinned them on the forms, which I had constructed from the foam and duct tape, and waited for them to dry. In the meantime, I spent a great deal of time trying to clean up the salt dust that was on every flat surface in the house! At least, I reasoned, the house smells really nice!

Two days later, I am looking at three, dried to perfection (and hard enough to rival Odd Job's Derby),  triangular shaped doilies and a 16'' high, conical doily, and realize, that I have dried them inaccurately. The points are in the wrong places and they will not fit on the base. Egad. 

Now, I am waiting for them to dry, again, and then I will attempt to finish construction of the project.  When the topper is completed, I will feel like that famous duo, Eiffel and Bartholdi. The sky is the limit. A monument for the ages.

Dear Lord. We are truly blessed. We know that sometimes reason is not our strong suit, but because You are always there to guide and nourish us, we are safe and protected. We are thankful.