Blood Pressure List

Boy, I think I have a theme going on here. First there is "Buried Alive" and now the "Blood Pressure List." Can you see waves of stress here? I went to the doctor and she raised her eyebrows over my blood pressure and gave me a slip of paper to track it for a month. The first time I checked it was on New Year's Eve in Tucker's Pharmacy with one of those machines; a chair attached to a BP cuff and a digital read out of my pulse and blood pressure. I pushed the green button and the pressure built up. 143/85. Not good enough. I cleared the numbers and pushed the green button again - 139/80. Could be better. By the fourth time I was 129/81 so I decided to take that reading.

I began a list of things that cause me to feel overwhelmed, stressed out, short of breath, panicky. I'm up to 65 "things" that are bugging me and am beginning the process of elimination. Some of the items are tips of iceburgs such as "Mom's house". That entry actually means "sell Mom's house" something I've been trying to do in vain for nearly three years. I've gone through four realtors with no luck. The only thing that constantly changes, besides the realtor, is the price. I've gone from $280,000 to $140,000. Since I no longer have a realtor the idea now is to rent it and compete with three other houses in the culdesac for rent. Not an easy one to cross off the list.

Some of the posts were easy to scratch a line through; make an appointment with the allergist, my fourth quarter report for 2008, and Christmas thank you letters. Others, like the house, aren't quite so simple; set up a living trust, organize River Wranglers files, remove the heater in the hallway (I think the house was built around it!). I've already drawn thick, red lines through 20 entries and you know what? I think my blood pressure really is going down!

Buried Alive!!

I'm afraid the paper is getting the very best of me. What to keep...what to toss??? The piles of paper tower over me and I am constantly moving them from one location to another. "I need to get organized!" I cry out. But day-by-day I learn to adjust and accept the papers as part of my home decorating scheme.

If the paper towers weren't enough, we needed to add a little remodeling project into the mix. Beginning the day after Thanksgiving, we brought cabinets into our home to replace the dilapidated, poor excuse for a cabinet, that we struggled with every day. The new cabinets had a superior attitude about them as they watched the old cabinets being yanked from the wall, their contents spilling like guts into boxes and piles on the living room floor. Then the fun began.

The drainpipe, winding its way under our home to the septic tank developed a leak. Bill repaired it. Somehow air got trapped in the pipe and as I washed clothes the water in the toilet acted like Old Faithful, shooting up a geyser of water above the lid! We really don't know who fixed that problem, but after several days of securing the toilet lid down, the problem went away.

Then we had problems with the cupboards. The vent pipe, in the corner of the kitchen, prevented us from placing the upper corner cabinet flush against the wall. We had to flare out the cupboard using thin pieces of shim. This meant that every cupboard required that treatment. When Bill opened the box for the pantry, wrong pantry! Back to Reno to exchange it for the right one.

To list all of the challenges would make me feel exhausted but they involved electricity, going to the hardware store, replacing plumbing, drilling holes in cabinets, going back to the hardware store, chiseling the floor, going to the hardware store and returning materials and purchase more "stuff" and so on. For some reason the towers of paper look more appealing.

Since November, I've been buried alive in my own home, wondering if I'll ever be missed.

A New Bedfellow

Bill is out of town for the week, working in Winnemucca. I am home alone, or so I thought until last night when I realized someone else was in bed with me! It was exactly 2:10 am when I felt someone brush against my right arm. I screamed loudly, jumped out of bed, flipped on the light switch, reached for my glasses and turned to face the bed.

The covers were up so I gingerly pulled them back, expecting to see a flurry of movement as the intruder sought refuge. Well, he didn't move at all but sat staring at me with little beady eyes and a bald head. He was big, at least two inches long, and how he ever managed to find me will forever be a mystery.

The Jerusalem Cricket stared up at me, wondering what all the fuss was about. After all, Bill was gone and there was plenty of room in the bed for the two of us. I, however, had a different take on the situation and decided that he had to go. I retrieved a plastic container with lid from the kitchen and scooped up the invader so I could get a better look in the morning. Then I unfolded the bedding and examined everything carefully before climbing back into bed.

Living in the desert has its challenges and far too many encounters with insects and spiders determined to survive. Scorpions are frequent party crashers, trying every way they can to find refuge inside our home, away from the elements. There are also various spiders looking for dark corners. The Jerusalem cricket, I've seen outdoors but this was the first time one has ventured in. Yikes!

Birthdays on Top of Mt. Rose

Our family celebrates cluster birthdays. In September we always get together and have a party for Molly's August 31 birthday, my September 1 birthday and Chaja's Septmeber 3 birthday. We also celebrate Joe and Breena's anniversay date, also on September 3.

This year was a double digit year for Chaja. She is now 10 years old. I made her a dress, as I have done since she started school but this year the dress was fancy! She expected a "school dress" and was delighted to see the organza, taffeta and velvet...a party dress for sure.

The dress proved to be a greater challenge than I anticipated. I adjusted the pattern to fit and ended up with armholes large enough for me to comfortably ease into. Yikes!! I ended up opening the seams on the dress and lining, removing the sleeves, taking the bodice part way off of the skirt and taking everything in 5/8" on each side. Too much work for a project that I wanted to complete in a hurry. But I got it finished and by the looks of it, Chaja was happy as any ten year old girl could be.

Molly celebrated her 26th birthday and traveled from Tennessee with her fiance Luke. It was great to have both of them with us.

I transitioned into a new decade. Now I am 60 years old...deserving of every grey hair on my head. Breena made me a party hat and all of my family celebrated with me, at the campsite or from their home in Seattle. It was a birthday to remember.

Mama Mia.... Here I Go Again

At my request, Bill went with me to see Mama Mia. The theater darkened and a young woman rowed across the water to mail her wedding invitations to three men, one of whom (and she didn't know which) was her father. Then the singing began. I leaned over and whispered in Bill's ear, "Did I tell you this was a musical?"

I loved it! Had a hard time staying in my seat because ABBA's music was too much fun. Went again with Debbie and Darci to the little theater in Yerington. Got in as a senior (now that I am 60!) and it only cost $4.00. If I had trouble staying seated the first time, the second was worse. After leaving the theater I wanted to do the Dancing Queen down the main street of Yerington. Unfortunately no one followed me.

Then I got the Best of ABBA CD for my birthday from Randi. The music fills my car wherever I go. I am saturating myself with ABBA.

Tomorrow will be theater performance number three. I am going with Kathi. She isn't sure she has heard ABBA as she was "into country" and she doesn't really like musicals. So this will be the true test. Will Linda be able to stay in her seat? Will Kathi be able to stay in hers? Linda will want to dance, Kathi may want to leave. Tomorrow will tell.

Patch, Patch, Patch...

You know the expression about bad things coming in groups of three? Well I certainly had a time during the week that I was conducting camp. It began on Saturday evening at my friend Dawn's home. We were flossing our teeth. (the older we get the less inhibited we are about taking care of business) and I managed to flick my gold crown across the room! That was the beginning.

I babysat my little grandson, Dagan, after camp ended and we were walking down to Jessie's home. Actually, I was walking and carrying little Dagan in my arms. Along the road I tripped and as I slowly crumbled to the ground, I tried to shield Dagan so he wouldn't get hurt. My knee took it all and I am now sporting a scab that any ten year old would wear with pride.

The last item involved Bill and my glasses. I returned from Jessie's and soaked my knee in the bath tub. Bill was watching Dagan and came in to talk with me and sat on my glasses - popping out lenses and crushing the frame as if the glasses were made of foil. By the picture you can see they were repaired and now work just great!

I'm all patched back together now, ready to celebrate my 60th birthday this weekend. By the looks of it, the patchwork is only beginning and will be a project that I get to work on the rest of my life. Talk about a UFO, I think this is better considered an art piece in progress.

Tumbleweeds and Camp Opanana

The idea was good. I'm sure it was. After my granddaughter, Chaja, was deprived of 4-H Camp in Washoe County (already full) and Lyon County (they don't accept kids outside the county) I decided, who needs them anyway? I can do my own camp so...like the little red hen, I did.

Now I am not complaining because I had a great time, but I think I took on too much as the camp director, activity director, chaperone, cook... My comrade in crime, Randi, helped a lot but her days were shorter than mine since Helen only came for daytime activities. I was up each morning before 6:00 and crawling into my sleeping bag under the olive tree by the chicken coop by 11:00 pm.

I think the kids had fun...it's hard to tell. I ran it like a camp and they didn't have the measure of freedom they are accustomed to when they come out to the high Nevada desert. They did learn about the area with trips to Ft. Churchill and the Oxbow Nature Study.

The best thing for us, though,was getting rid of weeds. Before Camp, when Helen came to visit, she navigated through tumbleweeds growing waist high (her waist high) in our yard. Now Helen in only 4 but I could see what an issue it was for her, avoiding all the stickers and prickly branches. Then and there I decided to begin a weed eradication program, half hour of weed pulling every morning as the sun was rising to heat up the day. The piles have grown, multiplied and taken a life of their own. But to Helen I owe thanks for showing me that under all those weeds we have a delightful yard.

Camp is over but I am still fighting the battle against the tumbleweeds. I am determined and their life is withering as the days shorten. I think I may be victorious.