Monday, May 26, 2014

Prick Is Not Always A Dirty Word

Yes, it's me and I am still here.    Apparently.    Amazing but true.

And nev er let it be said tat Lo is too old and too stubborn and too resistant to change to ever try someting new.  Well, old, yes.......and stubborn, most definitely and resistant to change......I'm afraid that is often the case, but not always.  For instance, if you wonder what I have been up to lately I can btell you that there has been a variety of going through stacks and stacks of papers, notes mail and various documents and (bravely) throwing away saved up stuff with wild abandon, thereby ending up with one much smaller stack of seemingly importgant stuff.  This will be seized up at a later date and the process will be repeated.

And I ave been singing and,  what is worse, recording my singing, and worse yet, sending said warbling to my beloved friend,  Ida, who claims to adore my shaky contralto and begs for more, so how could i possibly deny such  request.  I also inflict the same on the finches who, for some reason, seem, to like it least they come out of their nest boxes and sit on their perches with closed eyes, apparently mesmerized by my dulcet tones.  For a person who loves to sing but does not really have much of a voice there is nothing nicer than having an appreciative audience who does not demand quality, just applauds you for making the effort.  In factm, Ida's pleas for more goaded me into  pulling 10 or 11 of my musical muddlings from my WMA files and actually laying down 11 tracks on a
CD which I whimsically entitled "Lo Sings (?) which I will present her with as an early Xmas present. 

And that brings us to the PRICK referenced in my ambiguous, but I hope intriguing title.  Still suffering mightily frrom the red hot poker stabs inflicted on my left buttock by the errant sciatic nerve I decided to take my cousin's advice and try Accupuncture!  What the hell, why not?  I was not afraid of accupuncture, having tried it many years ago for some other plague that attacked my back.  At that time it did not help me appreciably and it was expensive so I did not continue with the treatmentments but desperation drives even a pinch-penny like me to extreme measures so I got a referral and made an appointment and off I hied myself  to be pierced into wellness.

The treatment began with a deep tissue massage during which the  masseuse attempted to enter my left buttock with her powerful fingers and seize the errant sciatic culprit and extraact it, literally pluck it out and throw it in th waste basket.  I do not think she succeeded but I could not be sure because, after she finished my poor left cheek was so so sore that I could not feel the sciatic pain.  Progress?  Perhaps.

Then entered the Doctor and, since I was lying on my right side with face to wall I could not see her nor the tools of her trade, but I felt a few teensy pricks here and there  on my left nether regions and down the left leg.......too inconsequential to even be called pricks, but perhaps mini-pricks.  Then the lights went out and I was instructed to be still and not move for 15 or 20 minutes and, of course I obediently did just that wondering if my Chi (the force the needles were supposed to energize and redirect) was doing its thing as obediently.  It is not easy to lie perfectly still for 20 minutes.....that I learned perfectly.  Then the light went on, the needles were removed, unprick, unprick, unprick, and I wase sent out into the world considerably poorer but hopefully with less sciatic pain.

I have now had 3 treatments and sometimes I think they helped, other times not so sure.  I have decided they did not help enough to continue at this time, preferring to save my money to buy more blank CD's so I can sing my pains away and fill my friend, Ida, with joy and delight.

Oh, yes, one more thing I did which I had never done before.  I made a fabulous Turkish/Armenian dish entitled Imam Bayildi......a concoction of onion, garlic, tomatoes, eggplant, sweet red bell pepper, a handful of raisins  and assorted spices cooked into a delectable stew.  I was inspired to do this after tasting some sold in our neighborhood Middle Eastern Market and and googling a recipe.  I must say that it was a great success. I loved it, Florence loved it, my neighbor, Marge, loved it and I suspect that my Wednesday caregiver, Ann will love it. 

I had better add eggplant and bell peppers to the shopping list so I can make more.  (NO, I do not know where these italics came from all of a sudden, and furthermore, I do not care.)
 There is an interesting story about the name of the dish which I will try to remember to tell you in my next post.  A little suspense never hurt a blog, did it?

Love, Lo