Desperate Call For Backup

As I mentioned in my last blog, I may have to resort to a photo now and then to keep you darlings amused when I cannot summon up words to titillate you.  (it's kinda like  being in a virtual coma and having to communicate by blinking my eyelashes).  One blink for yes and two for no.  As a person who is in love with words, you can imagine how unsatisfying this is for me, but, better than nothing, I have come to  believe.

Here is a photo of my beloved ex-caregiver, Consolee, modeling her first crochet project, the Prodigious Scarf.  Damn, I wish I had taken photos of her subsequent marvelous creations, a series of gorgeous afghans that made me proud of my student and amazed at my dubious teaching  abilities.

 In the background can  be seen my wonderful Power Chair which enabled me to descend and ascend the ramp to the outdoors during my convalescence.  Happily, now that I am on walker, nay, Cane, I no longer use it and I think it is time to return it to its parking place in the garage to be reserved for street racing with my neighbor, Marge, on her power scooter.  I have no idea how my 2 lb. weights got on the seat.....I blame Consolee since I doubt if the cats know how to use them.

Here is another one of Consolee
with my two babies, Winnie, left and 

Gussie, right.  In the background can be viewed 2 spare oxygen tanks which, happily, are no longer needed,  and in the left middle ground,  a portion of my fabulous front door, designed and partially built by yours truly.  If enough requests are received I will try to dig up the real photos I took of it upon its creation.  (Oh my, you can see how low I have sunk .)

Well, as you can see, I am resorting to photos to hide my lack of creative blogging skill today. (I know I should not consider it that way, but blame it on free floating Jewish Guilt of which I still have a smidgeon......one cannot claim to be properly Jewish without at least a smidgeon of guilt.)

Another even more endearing shot of same photogenic personalities.  Gussie looks like a dissolute alcoholic with a dreadful hangover.....I swear I only give her some of the milk from my breakfast cereal........neither I nor my cats consume alcoholic beverages, honest, though I frequently use same in my sadly far from gourmet cooking endeavors.....not to worry, the alcohol cooks off they assure me.  Another great shot of parts of my door, my parquet floor and the grand retro armchair which has been rescued from obscurity as a cat couch and restored to splendor as a thing of beauty and caregiver resting place in Crochet Corner.  I am still trying to figure out why, when I sit in this chair, the cats, rather than rushing to cuddle with me, ignore me with impunity.  Could it really be that my lap is simply not adequate for proper cat nestling?  Sob.....who knew till now that I had such a handicap?  I used to blame it all on fat thighs, but now it appears that is is more likely too-short lap bones.  Well, I'll  be damned if I will have them lengthened for the likes of those guys.....I already know how much that would hurt.......

Well.......Th....th....that's all for today folks.....do come again for more goodies and perhaps even a humorous word or two.

Diary of a Failed Blogger

No use uttering a string of "mea culpas" or whatever it is that the sinners and the fallen utter prior to seeking the solace of the confessional.  For one thing, what is a nice (though very unreligious) Jewish girl doing lurking about looking for a door to a confessional booth?  I fear there ain't no such for the likes of me, unless one could consider the blogosphere as one huge confessional booth.   Hmmmm, in my feeble attempt at humor I may not be so far off the mark at that,  but I do not intend to go there now.  I have tied my leg to the dining table and sworn that I would publish a blog today, even if it be merely one loud, screeching, "AAARRRRRGGGGHH".

There.  Having  managed that I guess I could untie myself, but perhaps I had better leave the rope tied till I actually hit "Post"......I have discovered during this strange convalescence that I am absolutely  not to be trusted when it  comes to things I "oughta" do as opposed to things I "wanna" do.  No, No, it's not that I don't want to blog..........perish forbid the thought.........I desperately want to blog.....it is simply that when I sit in front of the blog screen's pristine, unsullied whiteness and tap, scrabble or  bang on the door in my brain that shuts me off from my true blogging nature,  the door does not open.  In fact, I can hear 6 or 7 more deadbolt locks snap into place (you would think it was a New York apartment) as I feebly wrench and pluck at the unyielding doorknob. 

I do NOT know why a part of me has developed this strange resistance to blogging, but I can tell you that it is a swift pain in the ass, as my beloved Mamma used to say (only occasionally referring to me).  Prior to the Great Klutzy Fall there was hardly a moment or a subject which I could not sit down and blithely blog about.  I have no idea what has happened, but that ability is no longer always accessible.  As far as I recall, the old song goes, " The Hip Bones connecka to the Thigh Bone...." not to the Head Bone, for crissake....but in my case I am beginning to suspect that I have been assembled (or perhaps reassembled) incorrectly.  At any rate, wherever that surgeon put my ready ability- to- blog, he did not leave me a map damn him, so here I am, searching frantically among the mended joints and other parts trying to find it with only occasional success.  Believe me, it hurts me more than it does you.........or maybe it is a toss up, but I just want you dear, faithful followers to know that I have not deserted you.........I am here each day scratching on that damned door trying to break in to access my blogging equipment and I will not give up.  In fact, I have already considered hiring one of those TV Police battering rams or simply having the pins pulled from the hinges (like we had to do with my bathroom door in order to get the walker through the opening.)  

However, since we are dealing with a sort of virtual reality here, I do not quite know what part of the yellow pages to consult to obtain an expert in this undertaking.  Just be assured that I have not abandoned you and, being incredibly stubborn, I intend to beat this handicap.  Please do keep checking in and I will try to keep you entertained even tho it be intermittently for a while.

If all else fails I guess I can always just publish a photo or two......if I can find where I have stored them........they do not seem to be under Photos, Pictures or any such.....I know I filed them in a Safe Place and that I fear is the problem....I hope when I find them my boom box, extra camera and the original copy of my Will will be with them.

Love you madly.

Invasion of the Alien Commenters

I am still reeling  from a weird happening on this blogsite yesterday and I don't know quite what to make of it.
Like most hungry  bloggers, after publishing my offering I checked back later to lap up and/or roll around on the ground in any comments you darlings left me, I found (to my utter horror) 8 piles of poop from some Asian travel agency.

The words were nearly meaningless and were not necessarily evil but they caused  a shiver of horror to go up my spine.  I felt somehow defiled and vulnerable.  I suspect the same generic garbage was probably posted on a multitude of blogs so I do not feel like I was personally singled out, but suddenly the Blogosphere (sp?) did not seem its usual sweet, friendly place and I am somewhat shaken and a mite furious ..........nay, make that hugely furious.  Gone is my peaceful if foolish complacency.  How dare those commercially motivated illiterates burst my bubble?  Grrrr and arrrrgggghhhh!

My fingers are still twitching in a frenzy to fasten about their probably grimy necks and beat their skulls against the asphalt while gleefully squeezing the life out of them, (oooops....got a bit carried away there) but I decided that all I could do would be to edit out the offensive comments, delete the whole blog and republish............sigh.

Have any of you more seasoned Bloggers had similar experiences?  I am suddenly understanding why some of you choose to approve the comments before allowing them to be published.......perhaps I should consider doing the same.  (if I can just figure out how to do it).  I dunno.......I guess innocence lost can never be regained.......sob.

Anyway.....if any of you detect strange anomalies about the dates or times in the republished blog you need wrinkle your brows no further.  It's only Lo doing her best to fight Blog Graffiti.....or should I call it Soft Porn?

Lesson for today.....nothing (not even the Blogosphere) is sacred.   (What...it took you 83 years to learn THAT?)

Update of Some Sort

There's no use my whining about my delinquencies and grovelling for mercy and forgiveness....again......I think I have worn out that gambit.  I might as well just charge right in and tell you what it has been like for the past week since I had to bid a tearful farewell to my caregiver, the amazing Consolee. The sad fact was that she required a 12 or at least an 8 hour shift in order to live and I, growing more impoverished by the minute, had to cut her down to 4 hours or file for bankruptcy.  After a lifetime of penny pinching and frugality of the most wicked sort I have been watching my dollars flow in a torrent into the coffers of the Home care agency.


The brutal fact is that Medicare does not cover my being waited on hand and foot..sob........for the first 60 days of my invalidism the cost of care is all mine, after which, hopefully, my long term care insurance will kick in and pick up a goodly part of the tab.  (the claim has been filed and the paperwork is being faxed...as soon as the paper shuffling is complete I should be getting some relief from that disgustingly expensive Insurance I have been paying for for what seems like half of my life......huzzah! )

Still, there was much moaning and shrieking and rending of garments as I  watched my Angel trot down the walkway to a job offering her a 12 hour shift and I was sure I would never find an acceptable substitute.  However, I dutifully called the agency and, in a moment of desperation, told them that I would consider either man or woman .....in fact, I hinted that perhaps a man might be even better because he could more easily pick me up if  I (perish forbid) fell down....roughly translated that meant that he could more easily shlepp 20 lb bags of birdseed  and kitty kibble from car trunk to garage etc. )  Needless to say, that task is not on the list of accepted items for maintaining patient health..........(though it IS crucial to maintaining MINE.)

Well, oh hell, you have all been so kind and patient  so I will not drag this tale out interminably.  I fear you will consider me fickle and flighty if I tell you that I have been fortunate enough to get a remarkable replacement.......I know....I can't believe it myself, but would I lie about such a monumental thing?  Let's just say that I am undoubtedly the luckiest idiot on the face of the planet because the owner of the Agency  appeared the next day with a miracle named Mickey who has turned out to be perfect in so many ways that I still can't believe it.  Sadly, he does not want to learn to crochet but he is a demon at hauling those bags of birdseed and kibble and, are you ready for this...he is more than willing to feed the birds, fill the hummingbird feeders replenish the porch buffet and SCOOP THE KITTY BOXES even.  (Oy.....I can't believe I could be so blessed).  Even better, he wants only a 4 hour shift so I do not have to fret about my depriving him of more income.   Beside his various skills and abilities, he and I share so many likes, dislikes and opinions that we can sometimes talk for hours..... or NOT...... making for a very pleasant and comfortable environment.  So, although I miss Consolee as one misses a friend who is suddenly less available, I will get to see her on her days off and, in the meantime, I am being cared for excellently by my new friend, Mickey.  Seems like there should be a blare of trumpets here or something.  Perhaps a few fireworks going off or some cannons booming.....well, you know what I mean.

Meanwhile, I am still working toward 100% recovery......not quite there yet but I am using a cane part of the time now.  I am finding myself getting impatient  because the progress is much slower but I know that I cannot expect huge improvement every day......I will learn to be patient.........somehow.  I am, of course, hugely grateful for my recovery so far and for all the wonderful things that have come out of this adventure.


As my pal,  St. Anne of Devon might say, "life is bloody amazing."  And as my old pal, Dorothy, would probably have said, "damned right and shit, piss fuck besides."

Baby Hummingbird video (not my own work)

The following is NOT my material.....it was sent to me in an email, but it is so wonderful and amazing that I had to share it with you.  I am still gasping and uttering those wful "aww" noises.  Hope you enjoy it.

This is actually a pretty amazing story about a baby hummingbird that was found on a sidewalk.  He couldn't fly, so I took him under my wing.  At night, he would come home to our house for safety.  During the day, he was in the backyard of the house near where I found him.  About 4 days after I found him, I was holding him in my cupped hands when his mama came by to feed him.  She had seen me around, I guess, because she just flew over, perched on my hand and then fed him.  This happened a number of times, so I called a friend who is good with a video camera, and he came over to film some of the amazing goings on that I told him about. I hope this is enough info to give you some context for the video we posted to YouTube.  Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7xBLvMIBZU

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Change Is Good......Or So They Say

Hello, precious pals....sorry , dear ones........no photos today.......you must be satisfied with my endless drivel..........I come to you slightly out of breath after executing one of my many odd maneuvers using one of  my new skills......... that of propelling the wheelchair from dining table to kitchen trash basket while clutching a banana peel in one of the crucial hands.  (no mean feat, I will have you know, since the chair tends to go very cattywampus in  circles when you do not exert equal pressure on both wheels)  (fortunately I have learned to compensate by using the appropriate foot-scrabbling-on-the-floor maneuver to correct the steering at crucial intervals)  By this you are not to assume that I am still a prisoner of my various pieces of equipment.....nay, I have even added one new tool....that of Pete's favorite Cane!  I have been gallumphing around the place at a breakneck (sorry...poor choice of words) speed using only the cane which frees up one hand nicely for chores such as carrying banana peels.  I chose, in the above case, to use the wheel chair simply because I was already sitting in it to read my email and was too lazy to lift my fanny from the comfy seat.  Sometimes it takes me 5 minutes to decide which piece of equipment is ideal for the chore.........a dreadful waste of time,  and even so I often choose wrong causing me to find myself propelling the wheelchair with only my feet because both hands are clutching a lapful of the stuff  I am attempting to transport from dining room to kitchen.  Consolee, my precious caregiver, used to break up laughing at me, contending that I looked like an toddler in one of those walkabout toy seats.....I didn't care one whit how I looked....I just wanted to get the various dishes and glasses from table to sink.  As for why I didn't ask her to perform the task........simply because I forgot.....I am still learning the finer points of  How-To-Be-Waited-On-Hand-and-Foot...........it ain't all that easy to learn even when you have been waiting for the opportunity your whole life.  Which (finally) brings me to the subject I had intended to blog about......

These last 2 months have been among the most interesting and challenging (and exhausting) of my life.........I have been required to change into so many different people over that time that my head is spinning and my fingers are figuratively bloody from trying to clutch and hang on to whatever was normal and comfortable for me the day before yesterday.   You can picture me clinging to the door jambs and screeching at the top of my lungs as I was dragged from Independent Recluse to Namby Pamby Near Total Invalid.  Only my inabilty to lift a finger forced me learn to accept that role and play it gracefully....and then to begin (to my horror) to enjoy it and get really good at it.  Next,  before I even had time to add a few niceties to my role as Complete and Total Schlubb, I found that the physical therapy had reinvigorated a muscle here and there and it was necessary for me to abandon the Fainting Camille bit and embrace a new creature who could at least make it to the potty on my own with the aid of the Walker and much muttering and groaning.  (Actually a welcome triumph not at all resented by me, but requiring a real change of self from helpless ninny to semi-skilled invalid)

And even more earth shaking was the need to change from being a total hermit who could only tolerate human company for a few hours a day (or a week is more like it) to a gregarious social being who welcomed her caregivers eagerly and reluctantly bid them goodbye at the end of the shift.........not merely because of the need for care as for company.  Who WAS this person and what ever happened to Lois the Recluse?  Seriously, this required a monumental shift of main internal mechanisms and there were mornings I would wake up and not know who in the hell I was........especially since the hour of awakening was suddenly 7 AM rather than 1 or 2 PM and I would find myself welcoming being awake during the morning sunlight hours.  (so THAT'S what morning looks like.....)

All in all it has been totally overwhelming and I am still in the throes of metamorphosis.........I have heard lots of.......shall we call them senior citizens  (and many not so Senior).........defend their stubborn refusal to switch to a better path with the tired excuse, "I'm too old to change!"  I've got news for you, Honey Lamb......that is a crock of shit.  (I even changed from being only 82 to 83 during all of the above).

Failure to Blog - Crime or Misdemeanor?

No, no, I have not fallen down and broken something else......I am physically OK and doing well. ( Thank you my dears  (especially "Far Side of Fifty" ) for worrying about me......sorry I appear to have deserted you.)  I  am in the midst of coping with a different type of trauma.........that of giving up my angel, Consolee.  So far I have managed to achieve a sort of compromise but the struggle has occupied me totally and I have been unable to turn on my blogging self.

I think I have achieved a resolution of my problem....I will know in a few more days.  Meanwhile, you dear buddies will have to continue to be deprived, but I promise you, no need to worry about me during the drought.

I will be back very shortly.....not necessarily better than ever,  but hopefully not too much worse.

Hang in there folks.  I still love you all.