Monday, November 1, 2010

We're Back!

Well, when I said I thought I could sleep for three months after that hellacious move, I wasn't kidding, now was I?   Sorry for the interruption of "A Change of Plan", but it really was a summer of alternating  between  seeking respite from the heat, pushing boxes around, looking for my alarm clock, and falling onto any horizontal surface I could unearth.  All summer, I never walked by a bed without this weird siren song luring me in.  We are talking 3-4 hours, sometimes.  And not at night!  But A Change of Plan is back and now that Jim is better,we may deviate more from just reports on his status, although that is the most important topic from where I am sitting.  Okay, from where I am lying.


Jim's cancer has gone into a substantial remission, and his numbers look very good indeed.  On October 21 we decided a trip to DC was in order, a kind of sink-or-swim situation for us both.  He was amazingly like his old self, soldiering through the air terminals, staying up (hey, I did Too)  and going out for visits with friends and family,  For several days, this lasted, until he tripped on a chair in the breakfast room and down he went, with the chair back catching him across the chest.  As he fell to the floor, his knee smashed into the chair, compounding his pain.  At first he was able to function almost normally but by Sunday night he was in a lot of pain.  He was fairly confident nothing was broken...the pain wasn't localized to one spot...but we decided driving home where he could stay in one position for comfort,  make sense. 


So up Route 95 we tooled in the rented car,  Rip VanWinkle and his missus, a pair of functioning narcoleptics in paradise. Along the New Jersey Turnpike, with its quirky little nod to history, passing the Molly Pitcher rest area, Walt Whitman,  Clara Barton... culminating with the big Kahuna, Vince Lombardi.  (They sell Nathan's french fries  there, but this time I passed on them.)  Remind me to leave instructions to my descendants that no matter the public clamor for it,  I do NOT want a highway rest room and/or  candy machine named after me.  Just sayin'.


A week post-fall Jim is just now getting downstairs for meals, and is still in great discomfort, but overall he will be fine.  The trip (in the travel sense, not the falling sense) was worthwhile, and both of us are glad we did it.


Can't close without mentioning that the Koi have been absorbed (as it were) into the family.  I actually LIKE feeding them and watching them.   I love having pets who never had unfortunate accidents I am required to clean up.   Turns out they go into a sort of hibernation and don't eat all winter, and last week, this began.   I threw them food, and instead of their regular happy-dance, they totally ignored it.  How perfect that  Jim and I  have pets that sleep 6 months at a time.     

Friday, August 13, 2010

Friday, July 16, 2010

A Dispassionate Point of View


Conventioneers at a recent Koi meeting in Kerala, India.
In evaluating the serious responsibility of  taking on not one new pet but MANY, in the form of two dozen or so fish,  it was helpful to look for the bright side of things.  Never “needing” the companionship of an animal (though I grew up with cocker  spaniels, and we did  have a late lamented female cat who gave us two  litters in her day--before I put an end to THAT)  I decided to evaluate the  advantages of koi  (singular AND plural??) over dogs.
Koi don't shed hair  on your  clothes

They never bring in fleas.
 
Koi  never look guilty after munching your favorite slippers

Unlike their canine counterparts, they never drag their butts  along the carpet (euu)

Koi avoid mating with your dinner guest's leg
They also never chase cats and only rarely bite the mail  man
 Also, they don’t have dog food breath

Koi are too cool to  drool or slobber

Furthermore, they don’t expect to be  walked during an ice storm

It is practically impossible for them  to run away or chase cars
The town doesn’t require that you license fish, hence they don’t need a koi-catcher
The law doesn’t require you to follow them around with a plastic bag and  trowel

No koi has ever knocked over your favorite lamp with  their tail

They  make it a practice not to bark all day if you're not  home, nor scratch your door.

Koi don't wake you to let them out at  6am nor try to climb in bed with you.

If koi do howl at the moon,  you can’t hear them

Koi don't need tomato juice baths after an encounter with a skunk

They never jump up on small children

You don't need to bathe a koi (that’d be silly)

Koi don't sneak up on the  velvet couch when you are out.

People don’t dress koi up in  jaunty scarves or festive little seasonal sweaters.

Koi don't  eat the pumpkin pie you left cooling on the counter, only to hurl it back up on the floor.

Koi are way too zen to lick  themselves in public

and finally, even Michael Vick wouldn't dream of betting on  a koi fight.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Ommmmmmmm....

Okay, so the house with the Koi ponds is about to become ours.  We'll close on it on June 30, and will be moving in the weekend of the Fourth. Always a prime time of year to move in humid New England. Since the seller is an old friend of mine, they have indicated maybe we can start putting a few things there before the closing.  They have been great to work with, and are a resource for all the perks that come with the house. Since it is his business, the lawns are self-sprinkling.  Since it is a Cape, there was a shortage of storage space, but they have added on, and capitalized on every bit of available space, so we will have plenty of places for all my "stuff."  Then there is the big workshop area for Adrien to settle into, and a garage with a loft for storing seldom-used things.

These days, most of my hours are occupied either packing, and tossing on a grand scale, or planning for the new house and the move.  Details are endless, but of course that does not mean the normal schedule is any different.  Jim still needs prescription refills, (I swear he is EATING the pills)  and Drew has high hopes for a summer that does not include crumpled newspaper or punky wine cartons.

I confess, at certain moments, I am very excited about moving to this new place.  It will surely be different.  On Great Plain Avenue we are 2 blocks from town, and in the thick of things.  At the new house, the street is barely two car-widths wide and there is NO traffic.  Jim still has not been in the new house... although the kids took a multitude of photos, so he has the general idea.  Really, he just wants to have peace and quiet, which should be easy to accomplish.  There is a huge screened porch and we have gotten a futon so he can be out enjoying some fresh, mosquito-free, not too sunny air.  The kitchen is a little small, but I have to remember I am not cooking for a cast of hundreds any more.  And best of all, we can accommodate one-floor living for Jim if that becomes necessary, but have the luxury of a second floor bedroom too.  

I also celebrated my hmmpfrh birthday this week, spending time with my kids (shopping and drinking/ eating and opening presents... my favorite things!! How did you KNOW!??)  Matt found us a great little Bistro in his neighborhood, and we had a blast.  Hope Jim will be well enough to join us next year. (when I will turn hmmpfrh+1)  

So that's really the month at a glance.  Jim still has pretty substantial pain from time to time, which can be controlled with meds.   He still isn't getting out except to go to the doctor.  His big challenge over the next 10 days is to weed through his office, which is crammed with books and papers like you dream of.  The grandkids are helping him by scaling the book shelves and bringing down ones for him to assess. And occasionally duck.  Well, they gotta have some fun....

This is our own personal Buddha, who has been a
 reminder to be calm and peaceful, living in the moment.
One of the grandkids found the heart shaped rock and
placed it there. .  For us he is not about religion but more of a
mind-set. The statue will find a niche of honor in our garden.
I'd promise to write more in a week of so but you're too smart to buy THAT fable. So sometime in early July, look for my treatise on why koi are better than dogs.





 

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Home sweet Pond

No, really, they eat out of your hand!
Being an inveterate shopper, I expected the ultimate shopping experience would be to  choose new home.  Alas, over the past couple of weeks, we are riding a version of the same roller coaster that we have white-knuckled through Jim's medical escapades.  Our criteria were simple... one-level living, a nice kitchen, maybe a garage, room for Drew and Laura,  and most of all, in NEEDHAM.   Once I started looking at ads, it became apparent that one could get twice the house for the same money, say, two towns away, or even in Bellingham where my sister lives.  Nice communities, all. Right?

But my progeny had other thoughts.  Caring for Drew relies on my being able to drop him at Lynn's doorstep at a moments notice.  His dad lives in Needham, so if Drew attended school in another town, getting him back and forth might limit their visits to weekends.  Furthermore, the health scares Jim and I have recently given them left them all a predilection to have us close at hand.  So, back to the drawing board.

The first house got away on a technicality.  After we agreed on price, the seller wanted to stay well into July.   Since we need to be out in late June, that wasn't likely to work.  So we looked at some more houses.  Boy.. there was nothing to put a smile on MY face, until we discovered a place on the edge of Needham, near the Newton line.  It is an adorable Cape with finished basement, fabulous, huge porch and a yard to dream about.  Being a great believer in good omens, it felt like kismet that the owner is a long-time friend, a neighbor is a pal of Lynn's, the seller's realtor turned out to be related to another friend.... how can we lose?  (Don't answer that.)   My friend (and realtor) Maryruth has been so amazingly good at what she does I have total faith in her.  

While the house does have a few stairs to enter the building, it can be adapted for single-floor living by converting either the office or dining room into a bedroom for us.  We will start upstairs, though.  Jim's participation in selecting a house has been somewhat limited, beyond his urging me to put in an offer on this STAT!  Thus far, though, he hasn't been in this one. For the majority of the time,  he sleeps.

Did I mention the house boasts not one but two koi ponds?  How 'bout that!  Lover of live creatures that I am, I was a bit nonplussed when someone wrote on a Web site that these 9-12" fish sometimes are trainable to eat out of your hand. (or not)   Someone commented that they eat four times a day.  That's more than ME!!   I pressed on to discover suggestions on what to do if your koi get sick.  Never considered fish get sick... but if it has anything to do with applying thermometers, even in the best of worlds,  I may never sleep again.   I'm sure this whirring in my ears will go away as soon as I name each of the koi.   Lets see, Dasher, Dancer,  Grumpy, Bashful, Chiko, Groucho, and Harpo... any more nominations?

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

A Wistful Parting...

What is it about news, once you get older? Seems to me that when I was younger, news was usually good or bad, but with time, shades of gray take on a whole new meaning.  (!)

How is that for a segue into the 2010 contender in the "quintessential mixed bag" category? We have sold our house.   Yes,  a contractor has bought the house and will retain the main part of it.  As you may know, we recently confirmed we are on two lots, so he will move the house, positioning it  so the land will accommodate another house also.  This guy is known for doing high quality work in preserving some semblance of old while accommodating  buyers needs for all the modern conveniences, and for that I am grateful.  But of course, there is the tug of leaving the house I have alternately loved and damned for all these years.  Snow thunders off the slate roof, roaring down two stories to hit the ground with an earth-shaking thud. The heating bills are astronomical.  If only we could have figured out a way to occupy the upper third of the rooms where all the heat went.  Lynn remembers our old house on Valley Road, but Laura came here at 6 months old and Matt was born here.

I always thought of it as a Christmas house, and we lovingly decorated it each year.  A Nutcracker  tree stood in the living room,  a small part of the veritable forest of trees that have been lugged in and lugged out over the 134 years the house has been standing.  Fondly remembered pets are buried out back in the garden, along with some mice for a hereafter snack, and the odd GI Joe action figure.

The kids and grandchildren have their own memories tied up in this place and emotions are running high.  All of them have called this house home, and we are enjoying a festival of flashbacks, like when  5-year-old Drew waxes poetic of things he remembers from "when I was a kid."

So for the moment, we free-float.  We need to be out in mid-June.  The purging of the attic and other nooks and crannies continues.  I vow I will be more discerning with what I keep, come the next house.  We would like to remain in Needham.  One particular house has caught my eye.  But it somehow seems ...um...disloyal, like meeting a great looking woman at your wife's wake.  For now, and for a long time in the future, my heart will linger here, where everyone was always coming and going, where there was room to house all four of our parents, all five grandchildren, at one point or another, and take in the occasional random wanderer.  Where everyone in town knew your business by sitting at the stop light.

This house has served us well.  I hope we have done likewise.

P.S.  Jim is doing okay.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Breaking News: Easter runs right into St. Paddy's Day

Of all the parts of the hospital I have comitted to memory, there is one I overlooked until now.  The ceiling.  But  that is over now.   I was just released from BIDMC Boston.  Came by ambulance around 10pm Tuesday evening after having a morning appointment with Jim earlier in the day, and a trip back to the city for an early evening with Matt. Symptoms started rather abruptly with tingly numbness one  gets when your leg falls asleep.  No big deal. Fingertips on right hand, then lips, spreading to tongue, face, and hand but all on one side.  But several hours later, I noticed my knee was buckling causing me to stagger drunkenly about.  Problem was, no wine was involved.  So off to Glover and an overnight on a pillow-less stretcher in at the ER from Hell.    Conclusion, it was a small stroke of an unusual kind.  (Would I have any other kind?)   All will be well,  but it is a sobering and enlightening experience.

Some random thoughts along the way.  Jim coped well and indeed seems to be rejuvenated, at least for now. The kids were at their very best, banding together to assure I was being attended to.  Since I have a catering job on Saturday, Lynn is heading up the volunteers, and getting it done.  Laura has taken the last three days off to be here for me, especially running errands.  Matt came home and took charge of getting the kitchen rearranged and back in order.

The care at BIDMC couldn't have been better.  A battery of tests kept my dance card pretty full, and each person  who arrived (promptly, even) from transport was friendly and efficient.  The array of faces one passes in a hospital provides as much diversity as a visit to Sesame Street.  People from different parts of the world come together to seek and give care.   At times I really wished I had a camera to capture this uniquely positive atmosphere.  The barriers that keep us from connecting with one another are instantly removed once you are a patient.  It is hard not to seek to befriend someone who has temporary control over your life... a genuinely humbling experience.  Even the bed was rigged to set off an alarm if I had the temerity to take myself to the loo without a guardian. My favorite memory was of a mature gent who visited with six students. All crowded around my bed, while he gleefully jabbed me with a tack all over my body, like Julia Child with a duck, all the while saying, "can you feel the little prick, can you feel the little prick?"  And me trying to compose my face.  "Ya, buddy..."  Still not sure he wasn't aware of and delighted with the double-entendre.  He had a mid-European accent, while my favorite nurse, Sree. was from southern India.  Discussed Iranian cooking with the Echo-cardio tech whose  mom who was from Iran, and a transport assistant asked me if Wendy, his baby daughter's name, struck me as American because he and his wife felt if the child was born here, she should have an American name.

Prognosis?  My symptoms are still with me.  Half of my tongue is numb even to hot and cold.  My fingers and face still are numb and tingly.  My handwriting is different.  But overall, this seems to be an isolated situation.  It wasn't the kind of stroke that is induced by a blood clot. This was a small corpuscle in my thalamus that developed a hole, as I understand it.  So the likelihood of recurrence is slim.

I have to pay more attention to my diabetes, which had fallen to the bottom of the priority list for a while now.  Consequently, until it is under control,  I have been ordered to take insulin, until it is well controlled, and then we can go back to the pills, hopefully, because testing and taking insulin is a pain in the neck.

File under Chocolate Easter Bunnies I can no longer eat.