The Lows

I have every intention of balancing this post against a later one entitled "The Highs." But it's not going to happen tonight.

My Christmas usually happens in two stages. The first stage is the actual Christmas Eve/Christmas Day according to the calendar. The second stage is when my sister and her family deign to grace us with their presence. It's probably worth noting that my sister has not invited us down to her place in the last eight years. They have a nice house in Novi, and we would be more than willing to take everyone out for dinner, bring our own (diet) pop and some veggie munchies, etc so we're not a big imposition on them. We have always spent Christmas Day with Bill's side of the family ever since we were together, since sis MUST always spend Christmas with her enormous family-in-law and their myriad holiday celebrations. We used to go to Indiana, but after my mother-in-law passed, the remaining family in that state doesn't seem to want to acknowledge the holiday. So Bill and I started hosting Christmas Dinner ourselves, inviting his stepdad, stepdad's girlfriend (my mother-OUT-law!), Bill's nephew and his wife, and anyone who co mes up from Indiana. We have been looking forward to serving our first Christmas dinner here since before we moved into our current home.

The nephew and his wife had a baby last April, and since they both work full time they really wanted to celebrate their daughter's first Christmas all by themselves, we graciously accepted their apologies. At that time, I started looking around for a place that might serve a Christmas buffet, but the only place I could find was the Doherty. I called the stepdad and invited him and his girlfriend to join us, our treat, because I really didn't feel up to cooking a big dinner for just four of us. At first he said he couldn't plan that far ahead. Then the day before Christmas Eve I called them again. This time he claimed he was "too busy" working on his tow truck. Now I happen to know he's been working on this truck for weeks and weeks. If he hasn't fixed it by now, what difference does it make if he takes a few hours off to have dinner with us??? So Wild Bill and I, childless orphans that we are, shared a lonely table for two at the Doherty.

Stage two this year happened to be the day after Christmas. Usually it's closer to New Year's Day, so this was a pleasant change. We have a bunch of exciting new changes here at our place we were dying to show them, and hoped they'd stay longer than their usual 3 hour max. Several years ago they told us that by the time they come North to see us after Christmas, they are ham/turkey/yammed right out, so our tradition is to eat something totally different, like lasagna, macaroni and cheese (the REAL kind done in an oven, not out of a box!!!). This year we decided to just run over to Pudgy's Diner for burgers. And crazy thing, even with the new driveway and garage, and driving around on the UTV and Bill getting out his outlaw lawn mower, Pudgy's was the highlight of their trip. Oh, and they arrived at 12:25 pm and left at 3:15pm, ten minutes shy of three hours.

Bill wanted to throw a New Year's Eve Day party this year. He invited his best friends, his nephew, some people he WANTED to be friends with, and some people he "had" to invite because they'd have been pissed if they knew we asked so-and-so and not them. We had a grand total of six people come, counting the two kids. Plus one puppy. They were the nephew (so we were able to give them belated Christmas gifts) and a guy Bill will be racing against a lot next year. No one arrived until almost dark, and everyone was gone by 8:00 pm. I did a head count of everyone who swore they were coming and came up with 20. Knowing that things always come up at the last moment, I reduced my count by 25% and ordered a snack tray for 13-19, grabbed some cookies off the shelf, a couple kinds of pop and some chips. Bill cut a bunch of firewood for a bonfire, plowed the trail through the woods and salted the driveway where people would be parking. And no one came. In fact, one of my closest friends, whom I knew probably couldn't come, sent me a private message on Facebook saying she couldn't come because she didn't have any gas money. But then further down my timeline, I saw she was at a bar in Saginaw. So........

2011 in my rearview mirror

This has been the biggest year of my life. The biggest change is the concept that I can have what I want,  in a timely manner, the way I want it. This is a first for me in my lifetime! I'd like to think that is hasn't changed me much, but who am I kidding?  I bought a house with acreage we didn't need,  just because I wanted "property." I bought a Ranger Crew Cab UTV just to have something to ride around in, even though there is seldom anyone here to go riding with. I bought I car I didn't even like, but only because my old reliable '95 Ford Taurus suddenly started falling apart at an alarming rate. I had a wheelchair ramp built outside my front door, even though I am not in a wheelchair. I bought a rolling walker and had the back steps and the deck steps both re-built so I can go out to the dog yard or into the back yard or over to the picnic shelter whenever I want to, even when there's no one around to help.

I am purposefully saying "I" instead of "we". The money for all these purchases and projects came from my inheritance, and I did all the planning, research, interviewing, hiring, firing, and bank account juggling. Bill just shows up at the end of the day and takes credit and ownership of it all. Yes, Bill's name is on the car, the Ranger, etc, etc. But I digress.

The driveway project finally got underway in October and took weeks instead of the few days I anticipated. Also I was not anticipating a full garage. But, I now have a full garage, and it will soon have automatic garage door openers and the chest freezer in it. My car, Bill's truck if he wishes, a snow shovel, some Saf-T Salt, and that's it. Nothing else of Bill's is allowed. I should have had Pete put up some shelves along the walls, just above head-height, then I could store a few things from the house out there, such as the Christmas tree, some of the ornaments, my diecast collection and anything else not likely to be damaged by damp air or mice.

I still find myself running around turning off lights and the TV when Bill leaves things on when he leaves the house. I still shop the sales at the supermarket and the dollar stores. I fret over the insane prices the Doherty Hotel charges for their holiday dinners now, when earlier this year they were so reasonable.

I have gotten fatter. I had to buy a size larger everything, and I'm not pleased. I am buying healthier food and eating so much better, with more fresh produce, more fiber, less junk food, and yet I've gained about 13 pounds this year. My house is so much bigger, I have a huge yard which I enjoy as often as I can, I'm on my feet and away from my desk more now than I've been in a decade. But I keep getting fatter. I also went the entire year without having an illness that kept me off my feet for more than a day at a time; had no diarrhea, no vomiting, no horrendous colds that made swallowing difficult. Maybe I need to have a bout of something, Bark Out Loud!

My brain is fine, and I have the scan results to prove it. So is my hearing and my heart. I confounded a neurologist when my nerve tests indicated that my legs are too "dead" for me to be able to walk, and yet I still do. I get to keep my transplanted kidney for another year. I am planning a charity lawn mower race to benefit the National Kidney Foundation and I volunteer some of my social networking time and work with a group that assists pet rescues. I quit going to church. Sorry, Lord, but I still feel that panic when anyone approaches me in a church setting. Whatever they want to ask me, the answer is "no." I don't want to serve on your committee, thank you. This is the biggest reason I fled Prince of Peace. Staying home Christmas Eve will feel odd.


That about covers it. Now I want to start looking forward to the next year and what changes I can bring about, now that I feel that I finally have a little control over my life.

Saturday Blues

11 am, and I was just struck by the knowledge that I've not been truly loved since my dog Tippy was put to sleep (behind my back) four years ago. And she may have been the only one, ever. So now I'm sitting here crying my eyes out because I feel so alone.

I knew long before I was grown that my mom didn't really feel that legendary "mother's love" toward me. I can't tell if it was just me she couldn't love or if she wasn't capable of that feeling, but she only went through the motions. Sometimes she didn't even pantomime if there was no audience.

I think Bill used to love me early in our relationship, but I think I wore him out with all my needs,inabilities and mood swings. He is so focused on his misery at work, there's no room for anything else in his heart. My sister is too bullied by her husband to be able to spend any time with me (or any other female he isn't related to), and of course my nephew mimics his father in acting like he's too cool for rural Harrison. So no other really "close" family, and although I think I'm well-liked by most people who know me, no really "close" friends, either.

So as the kids would say, fml.

Presents!!!

Today I received 3 early Christmas presents! I should say "we" received them, Bill and I, but who are we kidding?  They were given to make ME happy, mwahahahahahaaaa!

Vonnie made us this thing, I'm not sure what it's called but it's our last name stitched out in a white lace, matted in SAGE GREEN (they made a point of making sure I noticed the mat color!) and framed. A little more elegant than the Campbell's Soup magnets I have all over the fridge.  Mary made us a dried floral wreath, which we immediately hung in the living room over the couch, hiding that ridiculous hard-wired smoke detector.

The third thing was a latch-hooked I-dunno-what from Heather. It says Christmas 2011 and Cooper on it. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with it, so it's sitting on the floor under the tree and I suppose OUR Cooper will sleep on it. Their son's name is Cooper, too, so they are intrigued with my dog. I sent Cooper-the-child a camouflage-pattern union suit with a fake "trap door" in back, a plush toy Lightning McQueen, a plush toy  Mater, and a tee shirt that says "Don't look at me, that smell is coming from my Dad." Everyone loves the tee, can't imagine why. Hee!

Feel Good Story

I was mentioned today in a tweet by Michael Stevens, the morning weatherman on TV 9&10. Thanks to my re-tweeting his tweet about the two basset hounds who needed a new home TOGETHER, two lucky doggies went to their forever home this morning! It makes such a difference when I feel like I'm making a difference.

The Last Month

Now that the year is almost over, I feel like I should say something profound about 2011, but I'm fresh out of unique perspective. However, life if going well:  my new garage is about halfway built, my electric and cable lines are all underground, the tarp and the straw are cleared from my garage approach and I'm able safely and easily go from my front door to my car, the old garage and the yard.

The tree is up, the rest of the house is similarly decorated, and I'm ready to throw open the doors and invite the world inside! But everyone is too busy with other holiday obligations, so none of our friends or family has a moment to spend with us. Too bad, because we're FINALLY able to provide an attractive, relaxed, comfortable environment for our friends and family, to kick back or party on!


I think our problem is two-fold. One, the people we spent the last 20 years worth of holidays with are almost all dead. Also, all our friends come from large families and spend the holidays bouncing from one household to another, so no one invites us to come spend time with them (except for a couple of extremely uncomfortable households characterized by deplorable lack of hygiene and loud, shrill, inescapable noises).

So, poor us. We are planning a New Years Eve bash instead. Backyard bonfire, indoor food, and probably will heat the garage or pole barn as well. Starts during the day, bring your 4x4 or maybe even your snowmobiles IF we get any snow before then.

Testing

Changed background, I hope!

As If!

No, thank you, I don't think I need life advice from unemployed twenty-somethings who live at home with Mommy and Daddy and spend their days texting, tweeting and updating Facebook from the smart phones their grandparents gave them for Christmas last year. Nor am I about to copy and paste their status to my own page, and I don't care if that "means" I don't believe in Jesus, I'm not a true American or that I don't love my deceased mother, the daughter I never had, or the brother who hasn't spoken to me in thirty years because he had the misfortune of marrying a self-centered bitch. *pause to take a breath*

Why doesn't anyone recognize that whether it's a chain letter, e-mail spam or some other internet "pass this on the everyone you know," it's all garbage?

Spinorting

My girlfriend Jeanie came over yesterday and we did the girly thing. First we colored my hair--trying to keep it the same color as it is naturally but covering up the gray. We missed on the color, so it's a little lighter and redder than it was before, but it looks natural enough with my uber-light complexion. Then she baked a pan and a half of lasagne, which I LOVE, and she and I and Bill ate it.

Then we went spinorting. My family has always used this term for wandering around in stores with no clear objective in mind. We chose a store called Merchandise Outlet. It's a small chain and mostly sells cheap junk. Both Jeanie and I had our minds in the gutter, and I'm a little surprised we didn't get kicked out of the store. I guess I "won" when I held up a Christmas stocking that was at least a yard long and maybe half as wide. I held it with the top just below my waist and called to Jeanie, and she shrieked with laughter!

To add to the sport, the after-affects of Thanksgiving Dinner hit my tummy just as we began shopping. I crop-dusted the whole store, finally giving up after over an hour and asking a clerk if I could use a restroom. Then when my tummy was settled down, Jeanie's started up. She spent the evening lying on the bed in my office, cuddling Cooper, and farting with her ass aimed at the crack between the edge of the bed and the wall. Oh well, as long as Cooper didn't mind!

Getting back to Merchandise Outlet, it's a good place to spinort. They had a lot of Christmas-themed things, tarps, basic tools, hats, gloves, sunglasses, some food items, some pet items, some kitchen utensils, gift wrap and some party supplies, even some clothing items. On the plus side, the aisles were spaced wide enough that I could get down each of them with my rolling walker. The staff is helpful and friendly, and if I have occasion to go spinorting more often, I will return again.

Well I tried

When I first started blogging, I was practicing for a time when I might "go public" and having something worth sharing. But I'm rather enjoying having a place to just vent random thoughts, not all of them negative. So any plans of this project ever being productive have been scrapped. Sorry Mollie Katie!

Vigorous Exercise

I hate when smug people tell me how much better my life would be if only I'd get off my duff and gets some vigorous exercise! There's only so much arm-flapping a person can do, and it doesn't improve my life one iota! Get me an indoor pool and you can revel in your own hot air to your heart's content and there'll be no complaint from me!

Support Group

I find these days that I am a one-person support group. It appears that strangers find me on the internet and tell me the stories of their chronic illnesses. I just don't know what to do sometimes. I have my own demons to battle and it doesn't help ME to listen to them complain, but as a person of multiple chronic conditions, it's hard for me to turn my back on people who just need someone to talk to.

I have a young male friend in northern Michigan who has lupus and fibromyalgia.  He has always been a rough-and-tumble kind of farm boy, loves to go fast and go 4-wheeling and hunt, fish, all the outdoor stuff. Now everything hurts. Heat hurts, cold hurts, pressure hurts, lifting his son hurts, riding over bumps on the road hurts...you get the picture. His family doesn't believe there's anything wrong with him, and treat him like dirt. He had to give up working at his job and all of his outdoor hobbies.He lives is a small town and his doctor doesn't believe him either, so he's having a hard time getting disability. There's no money so he and his wife and son are living with his parents. His dad was just fired a few days ago. My friend is only 23. Now how am I supposed to tell him to shut up and go away?

I also have my friend Jeanie who was recently diagnosed with diabetes, probably type 2. She has crappy insurance through her husband's job, and it doesn't cover diabetes education. She knows I've been a diabetic for over 40 years so she asks me a lot of questions I don't feel qualified to answer. Her husband and family are totally unsupportive, probably because she doesn't LOOK sick. She's also bi-polar and recently lost the companionship of her old dog and desperately wants a new one. I know everything she's going through except the part about having bratty kids. She's always been very supportive of me, so naturally I want to return the favor.

But some days I have problems of my own I need to work on before I can be "there" for my friends. We need a bigger group, so we can tag-team!

Approach, please! Part deux.

Yesterday I told the hubby again about the approach problem. And to my amazement, he told the contractor that This Will Not Do! So amazingly, the Humphreys crew was back at it at 8:00 am with their little dozer!  I can't believe that my shy, non-confrontational hubby went to bat for me like that! Normally he leaves that kind of "dirty work" to me!

But wait, there's more! Yesterday he placed flat paving stones under the doggy escape-gate and at the foot of the back steps so Jerry, our evil Kraut-dog can't dig holes anymore. AND, when he came home from hunting and found me on the phone cheering up a friend who was feeling down, he started cooking dinner himself without my asking!

Now I'm not so egocentric that I think every day should be all about me. But a day like this every now and then, or a little tiny bit of this attitude showing through every day--maybe not even the actions, sometimes the attitude is enough!--and it would make all the difference in the WORLD to me!

One small step for man, one giant leap for gimps!

What a Cool Uncle!

So this guy I know who is really close to my age is taking his young, slightly "off" nephew out deer hunting this morning. Uncle always makes a big production out of making sure the whole world know what a Great Guy he is. Mention is made on Facebook.

Later I see that Uncle got a 7-point buck. Not the nephew, the uncle. Nephew's mom is pissed, and I would be too. But I am not surprised by this at all.

This same guy used to race lawnmowers with Wild Bill, as did two of his kids. Daddy always had the Good machines, the best parts, etc, and the kids always ran the Crap machines. What a shiddoobee.

Approach, please!

The floor of the garage has been poured, but not the approach. I doubt now that I'll get my approach before winter, so that means I'll still have the struggle between the end of my wheelchair ramp to the garage door. But at least I won't have to scrape and defrost my car every time I need to get out, and for that I am grateful. But still, $30k on this project and I'm still struggling?

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

Our property is so flat, our driveway was the low spot of the entire parcel. This led to the creation on "Lake Campbell" every time we had a good rain. Winter and clearing the snow from the drive was horrendous for Bill, snowblowing water and chunks of ice. We agreed early on to have the driveway filled in and graveled, and asked Hanner to do it for us. We talked to him in March about it. Later he told us it might be July before he could get to it. July came and went, no Hanner. Finally in October he started moving his equipment out here: excavator, bulldozer and dump truck; he parked his trailer over at Henry Excavating, the next property over.

Somehow the simple driveway plan turned into a garage, having the electric and cable buried underground and removing a utility pole, the clearing of a LOT of trees, and rerouting the gas line. I was surprised that first the driveway had to have the black dirt scraped off before it could be filled with the sand and gravel. Actually I was surprised there was that much black dirt! Hanner dumped a lot of it in the front yard, to be seeded with grass seed later. I think we'll end up with a lovely front yard! The lilac tree that was at the end of my wheelchair ramp was pulled up and replanted in the middle of the front yard. A nearly-dead pine tree was pulled up from the back yard and dumped back in the woods. Gravel was dug up from out back and spread on our driveway.

And all the measuring! The garage floor has to be higher than the driveway or it won't drain properly. The driveway has to be higher than the rest of the yard or it will collect puddles again. For three weeks it seemed like a constant "beep! beep! beep!" was coming from the yard!

And of course everything that COULD go wrong with the utilities did. First the AT&T lines underground were dug up, but that was no biggie--we will never go back to using that company for a landline again. Then the power company wanted to charge us an extra $400 some-odd dollars to pull out the utility pole and dispose of it.  We keep telling them no, we'll take care of it--what's one more log added to the pile of trees out back? But they keep wanting to do it. Then they cut through my gas line while they were trenching for the new buried line, so the gas company had to come out. The power company didn't even tell me--I didn't find out until the gas company guy rang the doorbell to come in and re-light all my pilot lights!

While he was here, the gas company guy noticed that the approach apron to my garage will go a few feet over the gas line, so he got the idea into his head that the gas line had to be moved all around the outside of the garage and a new meter put up. I said why don't we just re-route it between the house and garage and leave the meter where it is, and of course he had all these dumb-ass excuses why that just wouldn't do. Fortunately Hanner came back and set the guy straight. I have to say, I'm glad Bill and I are using Hanner more or less as a project co-ordinator! He knows who to hire for what job, and who to call if things aren't going the way they should, and everyone knows him and acknowledges he knows what he's talking about. I think I must come off as being retarded because EVERYONE wants to put one over on me, I swear!

The driveway is done and it's great. Now we are waiting for Humphries to come pour the cement floor for the garage. I hope this project is wrapped up before winter! It would be so great to have friends and family over for holiday gatherings without the mud, and a new beautiful front yard to welcome them with!

Living The Life

Today I have an excavator, a bulldozer, and a dump truck in my yard. There is a loud roar coming from somewhere in my woods. Bill is riding around on his grass cutter, pulling a lawn sweeper for the leaves in the yard. The day was unexpectedly sunny and a perfect temperature for fleece hoodies.

Hanner is not only going to dump gravel down on my driveway, he's also going to clear some trees, move the driveway and level the ground between the master-bath corner of the house and the pole barn in preparation for MY new garage! That's right, I'll have a place I can park my car close to the house and it won't be full of Bill's mowers! It will have an automatic door opener and will be close to the foot of my front wheelchair ramp.

Hanner's whole family was here this afternoon and saw what all we've done since the housewarming party in March. I have a crockpot of venison, onions and mushrooms happily warming away in my kitchen, the aromas filling the house and drifting out the doors as men and beasts go in and out. I'm sitting with my feet up, a glass of Leelanau cellars Autumn Sunset at my elbow and listening to Mississippi Delta blues, and I think to myself:  My life is good!

A Happy Anniversary

This year I told Bill I wanted him to blow me away for our anniversary. Usually he asks me what I want to do, and I tell him what I'd like and he makes faces and excuses and it doesn't happen. So most years I get a card, maybe he'll bring me some Sweetest Day Special flowers, and we go out somewhere more expensive than we usually choose.

This year he had to go to work at 2 am, so I didn't expect to find a card waiting for me when I got up. This was a good thing, because there wasn't one. I had a morning appointment with my kidney specialist in Mt Pleasant, came home to eat lunch and leave an anniversary card for Bill on the kitchen table before I dashed out to the bank and to grocery shop. I knew he'd be home before I returned; in fact I hoped he'd have some nap time before he had to help me unload the groceries.

When I returned home and pulled into the driveway, I saw a flash of bright orange color near the house and thought: that looks like pumpkin orange! As I passed between the trees and came out in the clearing I saw there wasn't a pumpkin, it was FOUR pumpkins! Two were on the front railing, one on the ground in front of the wheelchair ramp, and one on the ground in front of the lilac bush at the front corner of the house. I believe I squealed like a three-year-old when I saw them! Bill told me they were my anniversary present, and actually I would have been satisfied because they were BIG,and so much more exciting than flowers would have been!

Then Bill told me to think about where I wanted to go to dinner. I was tired and assumed he was tired, so I suggested we just go have Friday night fish and seafood at the S & R Diner. He countered with Coyle's in Houghton Lake, and since we'd never been there, I agreed.

I'll digress here to comment on how much easier it is to dine buffet style with a rolling walker than it is with a cane. For one thing, the hostess will be more careful where she seats you when you have a walker; with just a cane you may find yourself having to navigate steps from one area of the restaurant to another, no one thinks twice about running you down from behind if you are slower than them, and forget being able to go to the salad bar. You have one hand on your cane, one hand holding your plate, and how the hell are you supposed to scoop food onto your plate? The big shiny blue rolling walker is impossible to ignore, and I find myself seated with plenty of room and close to the salad bar or the entrance, depending on the style of restaurant. I should have gotten one years ago!

Back to our anniversary dinner: at some point during our salad course, our waitress came to the table and presented me with two small wrapped packages and said they were from a very good-looking gentleman. I was flabbergasted! What could this be? I opened the first package and found a box, and inside the box was a small leather box. Inside was a pair of cultured pearl earrings! They are beautiful, and they are actually big enough to see! Then Bill tapped the other box and said "this goes with it." So I opened the second box, and it held a pearl ring! Now Bill once gave me a pearl ring for Sweetest Day way back before we were married. I remember him telling me then that it was NOT an engagement ring, it was a "just a ring."  I still have that ring and sometimes wear it, but to tell the truth it looked much better on the tiny, dainty little bit of a thing I was back then. It's lost on the big beautiful woman I am today. But this ring...THIS is what I call a RING! It looks "substantial" without looking ostentatious. I love, love, love that Bill not only picked out such perfect jewelry for me, but went through the trouble of enlisting the aid of the wait staff in presenting it to me!

When we finished our meal, Coyle's presented us with a dessert for two, on the house, in honor of our anniversary. It was two layers of fudge chocolate cake with a layer of vanilla ice cream in between, covered with hot fudge and decorated with whipped cream flowers and a lit candle. It's the most decadent thing I've tasted in a long, long time! Between the two of us, maybe we at a third of it. Too rich for our blood! But it was a lovely finish to our celebratory meal, and now I'm going to take my exhausted self to bed.

Wine and Color Tour

Yesterday's trip was a big deal for me. Because of all my infirmities, it's difficult for me to be away from home for more than a few hours at a time on my own. Being on my own and participating in an activity is a rarity, so going on this bus tour without Bill was both scary and exciting!

First I must say that I was not totally "alone." Vonnie, my cleaning lady -turned-good-friend was also on the tour, and helped me carry my purchases, parked and retrieved my car for me at our meeting place and was generally my chatting partner. The driver was probably accustomed to riders with walkers because let's face it, isn't it usually us "old" people who usually go on these tours?  He stowed and fetched my walker for me at every stop.


Yesterday was a perfect day for a color tour in northern Michigan. The drive from Harrison to Cadillac offers wide vistas of gently rolling terrain with many forested areas, several views of small lakes, and not many eyesores along the way. We stopped to pick up the daughter of the tour organizer in Cadillac on the corner of M-55 and M-115 on the south end of Lake Mitchell. I was sad to see that the little strip of businesses on that corner was totally vacant. The woman from Cadillac said everyone now goes to the opposite end of town for everything, and the area can't even support a little party store and a pizza place. Incredible.

I was sitting in the second row of seats on the bus and thus had a great view out the huge front windshield of the bus. I've never been on the stretches of road between Cadillac and Traverse City that I can remember, so of course I loved seeing new sights along the way. I have a "thing" about ghost towns and other abandoned groups of buildings, and saw a few new ones along the way.

One of my biggest fears was not being able to get on and off the bus without humiliating myself. It has been many years since I last was on a bus, and at that time I had no trouble climbing steps. I was able to get on and off the bus slowly but under my own steam. The bottom step was rather high, but there were sturdy handrails and grips every step of the way and I was able to pull myself up. The steps to the seating area spiraled to the left, making the rise between steps shallower and easier to manage. The aisle sloped upward from front to back, but since I was in the second row I didn't have to worry much about it.

We arrived at our first winery, Leelanau Cellars, around 11:00. Too early for lunch, so of course we all hit the tasting room and commenced tasting! We were a group of 50 and not the only people there, so it took be a while before I could squeeze up to the bar. I buy quite a few Leelanau Cellars wines because their more popular varieties are readily available in most grocery stores, and I tasted a few favorites and a few new ones. One thing I enjoyed was their Witches Brew, which they served warm. I'd had a few bottles of the brew last year and several times considered heating it, but thought heating wine would be too weird. So this year I'll know it's not only okay to do, it's the best way to enjoy the spiciness!

We were to eat lunch at Knot Just A Bar, attached to the wine tasting room. It opened at 11:30, but no one had informed the staff that 50 of us would descend on them that day. I'm sorry to say a few of the ladies on our tour were very bitchy about the wait, but I'm happy that I wasn't one of them. They seated us all outdoors on their covered decks and had us all waited on, fed, and out the door in time to be back on the road at 1:00. The weather was perfect: warm, very light breeze, and a touch of an autumn leaves fragrance in the air. 

(Some day I'd like to go to Leland and Fish Town, but that would also be a trip without Bill)

Our next stop was a winery I was unfamiliar with:  45 North. I was tickled to hear this family-owned winery is owned and operated by the Grossnickle family, and I wonder if they are related to Karen, my former physical therapist's family. The family corgis wandered in and out of the tasting room while we sipped. Located in Lake LeAnn (the town, not the lake itself), this little place had some of the best wines I tasted all day. I purchase a pricy bottle of cherry dessert wine and also a bottle of Gewurtztraminer, which I bought "untried." But it was part of a blend in one of their table whites, and I was excited by the idea of having a bottle of it again.

When it comes to buying wine, I have a lot to consider besides whether or not I love the taste. I'm more likely to try it if I have someone I plan to share it with, and if I have no one to share it with, can I drink enough of it to polish off a whole bottle by myself? I'm hoping that in the months to come, Vonnie and I will find opportunities to get together in a relaxing atmosphere and share a bottle of wine.

I was really looking forward to our final stop at Black Star Farms. It's an amazing complex of sub-businesses, and the tasting room is right on the main farm, across from the big barn and attached to the creamery where they were making the cheese they sell under the Leelanau Cheese Company label. There is also a large, elegant bed and breakfast and a wine bar as well. I would love to come back some day to see the Bed and Breakfast!

Since we were on the actual farm, we could see firsthand that harvest was underway. The bus had to squeeze past several large trucks full of grapes, and smaller little trucks were unloading the trucks a few pallets at a time and bringing them into the big red barn. It would have been cool to see the grape squeezing action,but I don't know if they have any viewing facilities. I know it's all done by machine so maybe there's nothing to see anyway. There is a huge man-made hill next to the barn, and inside the hill is a "cave" where the barrels of wine age.  The photo above is the entrance to the cave. The entrance looks to be large enough for a small truck or UTV to drive inside.

I bought a bottle of raspberry dessert wine that was so true to taste, it was like popping the berries into you mouth,  only without the annoying little seeds. I also bought a bottle of their 2010 Late Harvest Riesling, and I'm afraid to ever open it. It's so smooth and pleasing, I fear I will drink the whole bottle in one sitting!

Vonnie used my camera to take a photo of DrunkenScamp

By this time my right foot was really starting to pain me, so I was happy to get on the bus and head for home. And when we reached Harrison, I was plenty sober enough to drive the 3 miles back to my house. One other funny thing that happened that day:  I received a printed invitation to join the Red Hat Ladies, of whom there were many on that tour. I'm half-tempted. I wonder if Vonnie got an invite? I notice the Grand Poo-baa lady waited until Vonnie was off the bus before she stuffed the note in a pocket of my purse...

Color trip/wine tour coming up!

Next Tuesday I'm getting on a tour bus and riding to the northwest corner of the state for a fall color tour and to wine tastings at three local wineries there. One is going to be Black Star Farms, and I hear that place is fabulous!


I'm a little nervous because this will be my first outing on my own, without a family member traveling with me, since my transplant. If I fall ill, I have no one who will automatically step up and take control of the situation. I'm thinking I'll let my blood sugars run a touch on the high side all day.

Also there is the bus itself. It's not designed for handicapped riders. There are steps to climb to get into the bus, and my walker will be stowed in the luggage compartment (I hope there aren't any extra passengers stowed down there as well!). The woman organizing the tour said she'd be sure to tell the bus driver that I'll need to sit in one of the front seats so I needn't worry about tripping down the aisle!

I am so excited about this trip! It's not only a huge step toward more independance and persuing my own intersts and little pleasures in life, I'm taking my camera! I'll take photos of my fellow travelers, the tasting rooms, and hopefully of the colors! The only downside is, the forecast is for mostly cloudy weather that day. But I think my photo editing software can enhance the colors enough to make them look better than the colors I'll be seeing "live!" Heh.

I'll blog later about the reality of the trip.

What Happened?

Remember 9-11,  when the shock started wearing off? Remember how we all cared about the families of the victims of the towers and the Pentagon (yeah, about that, don't forget the Pentagon was hit too, and lives were lost!), and the brave and valiant firefighters? Remember how we were proud to be Americans and stood together? We stood proud and brave and pulled together and took care of each other and by golly we were not going to let the terrorists win?  Who would have thought that ten years later, the enemy would be within? Now everyone is worried that someone else is going to siphon off our money, our homes, our belongings; either by banking fees, collecting welfare, or working for lower wages. It's not the terrorists I fear anymore.

House Hunters on HGTV

Sometimes I watch HGTV if there's nothing on TV I want to watch. (this gives me an idea for another blog post at another time) There are several series with the "house hunters" theme, and they bug the living crap out of me. The differences between the process the hunters go through and my own personal path just make the show too unreal to believe. It's like watching Dallas or Dynasty back in the 80's. It seems real enough, but are there really that many people who are like that in real life?

First off, the "budgets" they agonize over. By the time the 30-ish professional couple fusses over their "budget" of half a million, they've already lost my sympathy. I think I could find a way to be reasonably happy with ANY house market priced at $500K, and I don't have a vivid imagination.

These couples always obsess about having enough room for entertaining. Really? Most of the professional people I know put in long hours at work and are too tired and too short on time to plan large, elaborate parties on a regular basis.  Make sure the dining room is large enough to host thanksgiving dinners, and let the rest go. Besides, once you have that baby that is somewhere in the nebulous future but you're still hoping to buy a house with a nursery for, there will be no more parties. That is, until Baby is old enough to want birthday parties with allllll of his/her fellow students plus a pony (but no clowns).

The kitchens ALWAYS need updating. It doesn't matter how fabulously beautiful and well-designed it is, every house hunter on this show wants all new appliances and the latest countertop material du jour. The lighting has to be canned, unless it already is, in which case it needs to become dropped lighting. Whether or not the current lighting or the proposed lighting changes provide enough illumination to work properly is beside the point.

I will concede the bathrooms. A shared bathroom with one's spouse NEEDS two sinks, and if the toilet and shower can be shut off from the sink/vanity area, so much the better. I've had both and you better betcha there are days you HAVE to dash in to brush your teeth at the exact moment your spouse lets rip the byproducts on the beans, cabbage and onions consumed the previous evening! So yes, be picky about the bathrooms!


Some shows feature people moving to exotic locations and obsessing about the views from each abode. Here is my advice:  if you moved to Costa Rica to live on the beach, then choose the house that is ON THE BEACH and quit worrying about getting stainless steel kitchen appliances and a bigger walk-in closet in the master suite!  You can find a big closet somewhere in Kansas, surely!

Here is how my house-hunting experiences have gone, in comparison.Our first time around, our budget was about $40,000. My husband was working a low-paying factory job and I was on disability for being on dialysis. All we wanted was a starter home because we were certain that once I had my transplant I would be going back to work and pulling down as much money as before. After all, this is what everyone in the medical community told us over and over again: the transplant would make me good as new, I'd have so much more energy  They lied, but here again it's a subject for another blog entry. Anyway, we thought it was financially prudent to make payments toward ownership, gaining equity, instead of renting until we could afford the house of our dreams.

We looked at a cute little cottage on a large corner lot at White Birch Estates, a gated community out in the woods. White Birch did not have natural gas or cable. The cottage did not have a furnace, a water heater, or even plumbing for hot water. The lot was steeply sloped, had no garage and no room to build a garage except at the bottom of the slope. The house was at the top of the slope. It was near the top of our price range which meant putting in the furnace and hot water would be something Bill would have to do himself, and I had my doubts as to his abilities there. Plus having a garage would be years away. We passed.

We looked at a home west of Farwell just off M-115 in a cul-de-sac. It was all on one level, I don't remember there being a basement, large front lawn, small back yard, attached garage. There was no door from the house to the garage, so you had to go out in the rain and snow to get to the garage. The rooms were numerous and small. It gave me claustrophobia just looking at it empty.I said out loud that the rooms and doorways were too tight to fit my wheelchair, once that day came (and it did, not long ofter). We passed on that one too.

We settled on a 1300 sq ft house on a slab on old US-10. It had an open floorplan, old stained carpeting, crooked wallboard panels, an attached one-car garage, and mis-matched cabinets throughout the kitchen. We lived there fifteen years and managed to entertain on holidays, survive my transplant and two severed Achilles tendons, the loss of two cats and two dogs, the adoption of two more dogs, and the usual ups and downs a couple has when one is crippled and there's never any money.  We still own it but it's up for sale, in much better condition now than it was when we moved in.



That was our make-do home.Since we moved in there, we lost Bill's mom, my dad, my aunt, and my mom. My aunt was a single lady and she and I had a close and loving relationship, much more so than I had with my mother. When my aunt decided to move into a retirement home closer to me, the little devil had half a million in assets, plus monthly pension from General Dynamics and her Social Security. Although she lost a chunk of it in 2008, she was still sitting pretty when she passed away. She left most of her money to my mom, her sister, but also left generous sums to my sister and I.

Bill and I decided to take our little inheritance, buy the abandoned property next to ours and build a polebarn on it, and re-do the kitchen an bathrooms to make them more handicap-friendly and attractive. But a neighbor of ours threw a monkey-wrench in our plans and decided to out-bid us (by a ridiculous sum!) on that corner lot, so we decided to move.

We looked at a few small places with bigger yards that were priced at about $80K or less, hoping for a quick sale on the house. But before we contacted any realtors, my mother suddenly died,leaving us half of Aunt Marie's estate plus the modest amount she was living on since Dad passed away. (I don't mean to belittle the deaths of these women, but my grief isn't relevant to this particular posting.) So we stopped looking for a month or so, until we could get a handle on what our budget for a house COULD be, what it should be, and what we should do with the rest of the money.


We decided that due to the volatile stock market, investment was going to be tricky, especially as close as we are to Bill's retirement. We decided instead to find a home we really really liked, pay cash for it, and fix it up in preparation for retirement now, while Bill was still working. And here's where the big snag came in: we couldn't come to any type of agreement on what would be "perfect" for us!

Bill wanted to move somewhere he could tear around on his racing mowers with no one close enough to complain about them. This often meant dirt roads, no cable and no cell-phone service. I wanted something on a paved road that I could drive in the winter and the spring thaw, I wanted high-speed internet and natural gas lines. Bill wanted a pole barn for his racing shop and I wanted an attached garage so I needn't worry about slipping and falling on my way to my car in the winter, nor about scraping the ice and snow off it. Basically I wanted one of the beautiful homes near Shamrock Lake on the north side of Clare, and Bill wanted a farmhouse out in Amishville, but without any Amish neighbors.

The first house we thought would fit all our needs was between Rosebush and Mt Pleasant, right on Mission (Old 27). It sat way back from the road, and was a cute pearly-gray color with rose colored trim. Attached 2-car garage, several outbuildings, and backed up to the freeway. There appeared to be some kind of trucking company on one side, so the only residential neighbor that might object to Bill's noise was to the south and quite a ways away. There was a huge back deck that reminded me of an aircraft carrier, and there was a screened gazebo at the end. But upon closer inspection we discovered that the garage had at one time been a separate building, and the add-on was entirely at main-floor level.  The door opened to a short set of amateurishly made steps, which invaded most of the parking area on the near side. The steps to the basement were long, straight and narrow. Except for the kitchen, which was amazing, the rooms were all tiny as were the doorways. Very little closet space existed upstairs. The outside was perfect; the inside not so much.

Then we looked at a manufactured home high on a hill on the west side of Mission. It had an enormous pole barn but no garage. There were cute small flower gardens here and there on the hillside, and it was well within our price range. When we arrived to look at it more closely with a realtor, we discovered that the steps to the side door were unmanageable for me. There was a patio door on another wall but no deck. The only other door led to a basement that had NO INTERIOR ACCESS to the main floor. Inside we noticed that not only were there no appliances, the furnace was gone too, right down to the vents and grates, leaving huge gaping holes in the floor. Some animal had been kept in one of the "bedrooms," and there had been huge turds left on the rug. Bill reported that the basement could only be locked from the outside, not from the inside. That gave me the creeps so bad, I couldn't wait to get out of there!

Bill found a house about a quarter mile north of a paved road just a mile or two south of Herrick Park. It was a one story on top of a walk-out basement. It had about 8 acres of farmland, a big propane tank, no internet available except dial-up, poor cell phone reception, and a huge 4-6 car garage. Bill loved it, but it was unlivable for me. Again,much of the living space was downstairs, and the stairs were such that I couldn't get down to that level without going outside.

Finally while on the internet one day I found a place that had a manufactured home on 27+ acres, mostly wooded. The pictures showed the house looked like a log cabin, it boasted both a pole barn and a garage, there was a picnic shelter and a windmill in the back yard, it had cable tv and internet available, had natural gas heat, and low property taxes. Trouble was, the location was a secret! I scoured the internet, cross-referencing and back-tracking and finally found it just north of Harrison. My husband gasped. "Not Harrison! Harrison sucks!" Nonetheless, the day after Christmas we took the short drive up to check it out. And it was almost everything we ever wanted.


The house was in very good shape, and move-in ready. We closed in less than a month, hired people to change the carpeting to flooring and bought two new appliances (NOT stainless steel!) and some new furniture. We moved in the end of February and threw our first party three weeks later. And all for less than $150K.  Great view, I love my eat-in kitchen, my big living room, my deck and front porch, my big windows, the big yard for large dogs to run and play in, the picnic shelter for our summer cookouts (guess what?  We DO entertain!), and our trails through the woods winding past the two deer blinds. Now THIS is a story most people could relate to, don't you think?

The end (I'll bet you thought I'd never get there!)

Owie

I haven't gone anywhere in the past few days because I broke one of my front teeth Tuesday night and can't get it fixed until almost the end of October. The joys of small-town living: when you need any kind of specialist, you have to wait a long time for an opening.

I did go out to Walmart Thursday afternoon with Wild Bill for dog stuff, hunting stuff and groceries. By the time we got back, my right foot and ankle were too sore for me to walk on it. There is no swelling or bruising so I have no idea what happened to cause that. Today, Saturday, it hurts just as much. I guess I won't make it to church THIS Sunday, either, and I'm sure they've given up on the idea of me ever joining.

I bought one of those battery-operated tooth brushes at Walmart and I must say it's a huge improvement over the electric toothbrushes we used to use when I was a kid! However a few hours later the ache in my outer gum on the right side turned into a sharp pain, like the bone in my jaw was spontaneously fracturing. Once I had my hands washed I reached in and found a big, painful lump. I showed it to Wild Bill when he got off work and he said it's the same color as the rest of my gum, so I'm not going to worry about oral cancer today. I'll just assume it's an abscess on the tooth I should have had a root canal on five years ago but never did (it was the same time my dad suddenly went downhill with his health and I had my hands full with him, my mentally incompetent mother and my drunken aunt). Serves me right. And to add insult to injury, I've already maxed out my dental insurance for this year.

Remember the title of that one blog entry a few weeks ago: fml? Yeah, that.

A Medial Practice Should Know Better

I see a lot of specialists in a year's time. I've seen many variations and configurations of waiting rooms and treatment rooms. It shocks me that so many offices, whose primary business is to treat sick people, are so poorly designed when it comes to handling mobility aids.

Yesterday I went to see my eye specialist in West Branch. Office is in a one-story building, and the inner door to the office swings inward. There is a reception desk immediately to the right, and a coat area to the left, on the same wall as the door. The back wall is entirely a frames display. It circles around in both directions and takes up about 1/3 of each wall. There are small work stations for the tech to adjust your frames, and the rest of the room is seating. Five chairs on the left wall, three in the middle of the room facing them, three back-to-back with the other three and two on the opposite wall, next to the hallway leading back to the treatment rooms. There is no room to park a wheelchair that is not blocking at least one walkway. My rolling walker was almost as bad, but I was able to nab an end chair and position the walker so that it was almost in my lap.

I was the youngest patient there. There were two elderly people there with their attendants pushing them in wheelchairs. One person was on oxygen and was wheeling around a tank of oxygen on a little cart. Every time someone's name was called, at least three people had to move.

The other doctors I see have similar waiting areas. My endocrinologist (many older, diabetic patients with foot and leg problems), my dentist (even the HALLWAY is hard to squeeze down!), my kidney doctor (six seats, and if everyone is able-bodied, all six pairs of knees are dangerously close to touching in the center of the room. Don't even get me started on the waiting areas at Kresge Eye Institute in Detroit.

The Remedy

Last Friday I went to lunch with my cousin Mike from North Carolina. I haven't seen him in about a dozen years. I was afraid he wouldn't recognize me because I'm twice the weight now as I was when he last saw me. But I needn't have worried because so is he.

Mike was traveling with his friend Dj from Brazil. Dj didn't talk much but he sure could pack away the food! One of those scrawny types that can eat like he has a hollow leg and never gain a pound. Wild Bill came along too, and we met at the Remedy.

The Remedy is a home-cooking type place right on Old US-27 in Harrison. It has a ramp leading from the left side of the parking lot to the front door, but the landing at the top is rather small. Tricky for me and my rolling walker; I wouldn't want to attempt it alone in a wheelchair. Coming up the ramp, one must face left to enter the outer door, then once inside turn left again to enter the dining area. Easy for most people but difficult to maneuver pushing a wheelchair. So probably not the best place to bring Gramps for lunch.

The burgers were big and sloppy but juicy and tasty. I had one that featured bacon and cheddar cheese, Mike had an olive burger, Dj had a chili burger and I forget what Bill ordered but he asked for "everything except tomato" on it. I was disappointed to find that their onion rings are no longer the big thick "real" rings but instead were skinny, overcooked chopped onions formed in a ring shape. Live and learn, I guess.

I have never used the restrooms since The Remedy is so close to home so I'm remiss. We sat in the second dining room so I could park my walker in a corner out of everyone's way, so that was comfortable and easy, at least. Bottom line:  for the same type of food, go a block south and take Gramps to the S & R Diner.

Small Town Post Offices

Since I moved to Harrison, I've been to our new local post office twice. Each time I was SURE I'd be run over and killed. The layout of the driveway, available on-street parking, the drive-up letter box and the front door of the building are such that anyone walking into the building from a parked car is taking their life into their own hands. Cars ZIP down the one-way street and through the parking area with reckless disregard for pedestrians and vehicles trying to back out of parking places. Once inside, the clerks are stiffly polite but largely unhelpful if you have questions about your mailing options. Overall grade:  FAIL!

I also try to avoid the post office in Clare as well. No matter how long the line is or how complicated the process for the customer at the front of the line, I never see them open the second window. The building is okay, I guess: there is a handicap ramp next to the steps to the front door, but there is a heavy door that must be negotiated at the top that could be awkward for a person alone in a wheelchair or on a motorized scooter.  There are two handicap parking spaces in the large parking lot, but a patron must cross the lane to the drive up mailboxes, so still something of a hazard.  Overall grade: C+

I used to have to use the Gladwin office fairly regularly when my mom and aunt were still alive. This was a great little post office to use! Small and busy, but the patrons were happy to help you with doors and the window clerks couldn't do enough for you. The building was on street level and there was lots of on-street parking, with handicap spaces right outside the front door. There was also a parking lot in the back and a drive-up letter box, but I don't recall ever using them. Unfortunately, I think I read of some embezzlement that took place in that office, and hope it wasn't by anyone who ever waited on me! Always so polite and friendly! Overall grade:  A-

The best little post office in the area is the Farwell post office. One handicap parking space closest to the door, but the other parking spots are also easy to use. There is a short flight of stairs from the street to to front sidewalk but there are only a few parking spaces at the bottom of the steps, and they needn't be used at all. Drive-up lane is also the entrance to the parking lot, but because of the hill and the angled parking, cars don't go ripping through to the letter box. Service at the windows is excellent! The clerks take time with each patron, especially the elderly and infirm like me. I've even had one clerk keep her window open several minutes past closing time because she saw me come in. This in contrast the the Clare post office, who shut their window promptly at 4:30, even if you are still standing in line! Overall grade:  A+

So there is my review. We all need to use the post office at some time or another, so plan ahead to stop in at an out-of-town office if you are going to be out and about.  Do it on the next sunny day, because the colors are turning in Clare and Gladwin Counties!

Dow Gardens

Sunday I participated in a Kidney Walk at Dow Gardens. I used to participate in Gift of Life walks right after my transplant, until they became to hoity-toity and high-priced, but nothing since then. But this walk was much easier to manage.

For one thing, the walk is all paved. For another,there's only about a mile of trails. I was there an hour before the walk started, registered, ate the free lunch, got a massage, helped make a poster and had a group photo taken and then did the walk on a borrowed mobility scooter and only wore the battery halfway down. The only problem I ran into was the conservatory area: if you approach it from the wrong direction, you have to walk down a short flight of stairs. Also there are  no automatic doors on the conservatory so if you are in a wheelchair or on a scooter, you better have a companion to hold the door for you!

Bottom line:  a beautiful place to bring your special-needs child, Gramma and Grampa, your disabled wife or fiancee...or anyone you love!

Wheel-Inn vs. Applebee's

This past Saturday, Wild Bill and I went to Potterville for a lawn mower racing invitational hosted by the Rough Riders. We stopped for lunch on the way down at the Wheel Inn in St John's. It's a home cooking/diner style place, breakfast anytime, plentiful food at good low prices. We've stopped there dozens of times but I don't remember ever having to use the ladies room.

I rate the potty an 8 out of 10. The overall room is small, but the handicap stall is huge. More than enough room to negotiate a wheelchair or walker, and handrails on (gasp) BOTH sides!

The restaurant itself is a little more difficult. Much of the seating is in booths, and the tables are close enough together to make it difficult to squeeze through with adaptive equipment. It can be done, but probably not without inconveniencing other patrons. Awkward!



After the racing, we went out to dinner with our friends Chris and Rich and their son Brandon. It was Chris's birthday and she choose Applebees. We went to one in  the Lansing area, and it rates a 0 out of 10 for gimps. Number one, I left my rolling walker in the car and just used my cane and Bill's arm because there were STEPS leading from the parking area to the entrance. There may have been a ramp somewhere, but not close enough to find without an all-out search party.

Once inside, the restaurant is very dark and crowded. I needed to use the ladies and had difficulty walking with my cane to the door without getting run over by a waitress or one of the other patrons. The crowd at Applebees tends to be a younger crowd, and I have noticed many times over that as a group, people under 30 are less likely to look around them before leaping to their feet or suddenly changing direction, leading to many more collisions than you'll see in an older crowd.

The restroom facilities probably met the legal ADA guidelines, but not by much. Which means that a person with any physical disabilities will have a difficult time using them. A rolling walker or wheelchair would be enough to prevent you from using the potty at this place. Too bad, because the food is actually pretty good.

Now for the main event:  the race track and pit area at Potterville! The ground is flat and easy to maneuver with my rolling walker. I used it all afternoon and my arms were neither tired nor sore at the end of the day. The drawback is the use of porta-johns throughout the park and track area. We saw no sign of any indoor flushies anywhere. But if you're only going to watch the races, not be there all day, it should not be a deal breaker. Go and enjoy some good racing!

Too Fat For Winter

I'm having a hell of a time finding a winter coat this year. My last coat suddenly shrank two sizes at the end of last winter and the zipper broke while I was in it.

My new coat or jacket has to be long enough to cover my butt and most of the shirt tails I wear. I wear everything tunic-length because I am long-waisted and my bare belly hangs out otherwise. Most winter jackets are a short style that I can't wear. I want my jacket to be somewhat water-resistant because I often find myself in wet snow or rain mixed with snow. I also intend to play outdoors in our woods, either on the Ranger or maybe on a snowmobile, so I don't want a wool, tweed, or other woven material.

I ordered a jacket from Land's End, and it arrived today. I bought a size 3X, the largest size they carry. I normally wear a 2X to leave room for the girls, but wanted to have a lot of room for bundling up underneath. The color was nice, the length was a little TOO long but not a deal breaker. The fit was, however. This size 3X fit exactly the same as my old 1X, wth? So back it goes. I ordered a coat for half the price on O.com tonight and we'll see how that goes.

What is frustrating to me is that the company I bout my 1X jacket from no longer carries many cold-weather jackets, and the two companies I buy most of my clothes from carry coats that are long on style and not meant to be worn by anyone who will spend any time outdoors. I tried places like Colombia and LL Bean, but it appears there aren't enough fat people who live in cold climates that go out in the winter. I've even Googled "winter jackets + womens plus size" instead of specific stores. I don't know what I'm going to do, because I sure can't seem to lose weight without getting sick to do it.

Goofy friends

This is my goofy friend Jeanie Martin. I don't know how I would get around at most races without her! She helps me over rough terrain, keeps an eye on my sunburns, carries my plate and keeps me laughing!

Country Christian Church

Sunday Bill took me racing at Country Christian Church just outside of Lapeer. I don't know how a non-denominational church gets to be so large! They were having a family and friends day with a huge spread of food, services outdoors under a tent, games for little kids, giant blow-up bouncy toys, and of course the race track.

The ground in the pit area was nice and flat,and there were porta-johns strategically placed around the grounds. I had no trouble with my walker except while walking from the pits to the church hall to get some lunch. I had my camera with me and took pictures.

I took a LOT of pictures: something like 118 of them. And yesterday morning I posted photos on other people's facebook pages, with very positive results. I'm still not vain enough to try going "pro" with my photography, but it was satisfying.

fml, etc

I get so sick of browsing facebook and seeing all my younger "friends" say stuff like "fml" and "I'm bored." As someone whose disability leaves me very little time for fun, I can't imagine how anyone who can get up and go anywhere whenever they want, have time to watch a movie or read a good book, and aren't in constant pain can possibly be BORED all the damn time!  And as far as "fml" goes, if the only thing going wrong in your life is not enough attention from the opposite sex and/or no one to party with, I have NO SYMPATHY FOR YOU WHATSOEVER! What whiny little shits you all are! Get a job, learn some responsibility, pay some of your own bills instead of letting Mommy and Daddy foot the bill, and if you can't get a job, take some initiative and improve yourself!

Daymares

I woke up early this morning with low blood glucose, and once I had it stabilized, I went back to bed. I had the most horrible dream! I dreamed that someone had stolen my dog! Not Cooper or Jerry, but Ace. Bill and I had to have Ace put down just about a year ago, and I guess my subconscious was dredging that up.

In my dream, I found the guy who had stolen my dog, and I was chasing him running as fast as I could. I guess in my dream I could still run. I caught up with him and was trying to beat the shit out of him to get him to tell me where Ace was, but he kept getting away. I was so panicked and my anger was out of control; I'm surprised I wasn't screaming with rage out loud. I'm not sure how I finally woke up; up until a minute ago I was thinking Jerry jumped on me for a kiss but now I realize Bill had taken the dogs outdoors with him to let me sleep.

The rest of the day was restful and stress-free. I love this late summer/early autumn weather! The slanting sunlight, the aromas of the woods and a touch of wood smoke in the air, and cool temperatures inviting the use of the oven and the creation of huge pots of soups and stews! It wasn't until I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner that I remembered that the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up as well. Mom died "suddenly" on the last day of summer. I say "suddenly" because I guess everyone else saw it coming except my sister and I. Mom and I didn't get along that well for most of our lives together. She was one of those people who had to find fault with everything, and I always felt that whenever she saw me do anything well it enraged her.  The last few months that she was alive, she stopped being that way. For the first time in my memory, she stopped fretting about every penny everything was costing her personally. She allowed me to take her to the furniture store to get a lift chair for her apartment, and we talked about getting her a mobility scooter. And then she was gone.

Cabos in Houghton Lake

Bill and I went shopping in Houghton Lake tonight- - a lawnmower store, Tractor Supply Co, Dunham's and Wal-Mart. Before we went into Wal-mart, we had dinner at Cabos next door. I had a chicken fajita quesadilla and it was amazing! I can't believe I ate the whole thing, but I did! Delicious cheese sauce and plenty of fresh,colorful veggies, oink oink!

Now to comment on accessability:  The restaurant is in a strip mall so it is all level with the sidewalk. There is no flat spot near the entrance, however, making it a little awkward for a wheelchair or rolling walker.  Standard glass door,but the tables are widely spaced. Restroom accessibility is as good as I've ever seen or used, but the dirty diaper smell is a little off-putting. Also when I was there, they had no toilet paper in the handicap stall, yikes! I hope this is not a common theme with them.

I forgot today was Monday, so I suppose we were lucky to find anyone open tonight. There were only two other occupied tables when we were seated, we spent about 15 minutes being the only customers, and three ladies came in just as we were leaving. Like most tourist towns in Michigan, Houghton Lake is a ghost town a week after Labor Day. Maybe it will wake up a little once the colors start to turn, but I doubt it.

Thanks, Terrorists!

This past weekend, F-16 fighter planes escorted a plane to Detroit International Airport because members of a family spent "an inordinate" amount of time in the plane's bathroom. Great, just another reason why I can never fly commercial.

As if the whole strip-searching idea isn't off-putting enough, there's also been the shoe thing. It seems terrorists like to pack C4 in their shoe soles or some such thing.  My feet are grossly deformed to the point that I can't wear shoes on them. The back part, in the heel area, is fairly normal. But about the arch area they seem to take about a 45° turn outward, so it looks like my feet are on sideways. My medical insurance allows me ONE pair of custom-made shoes, complete with extra-depth for thick layers of orthotic inserts, per year. I am certain that if I take a commercial flight, the over-zealous inspectors will rip my shoes apart and demolish the inserts looking for suspicious substances.

And now I must also fear "spending too much time in the restroom." Will people be holding stopwatches on each other? How long is a reasonable amount of time, and at what point does your nervous stomach turn you into a suspected terrorist?

Errands

I need to make a run to the store for more Coke Zero for Wild Bill. Some time today. But I may also need to pick up a few things if we have friends over for a cookout tonight. I don't want to have to make 2 trips because it's so hard getting my sorry self into and out of my car, and to get my car unloaded. Wish they'd call!

Here is what an errand entails for me:  if I'm going to the grocery store, I'll need a cart. That means leaving the walker behind. So I have to transfer my wallet, keys, glucose monitor, and cell phone from the pocket of my walker to my purse. The purse is hidden away in my bedroom, somewhere out of Jerry's reach. Then I have to find a cane to walk with. After that, I'm trying to limp-waddle out the front door without the dogs coming. After some coaxing, Jerry will usually sit and stay until I get out the door--IF Wild Bill doesn't decide to assert his presence and distract Jerry by giving him different orders. (sigh) I know he's only trying to help, but if he's not going to do his duty as a dog owner and train his puppy on a daily basis, he needs to STFU!

Once at the store, the Coke is heavy and awkward for me to handle, so of course someone else will need to squeeze by my cart and me at the same exact moment I'm trying to load my cart. Loud exasperated sighs usually ensue. Those who don't sigh offer to help. The jury is still out on which is more annoying.

I have learned to love the self checkout lanes.Since I can rarely get a cashier to help me bag and load my cart, and there is no such thing as a "bagger" anymore since the advent of bag carousels, at least I can set my own pace using these lanes. Sometimes all I need is just a tiny bit of control over my life!

Once home again, Bill is usually around to help unload my car. But putting things where they belong is distinctly MY job. Then I must remember to put everything from my purse back into the pocket of my walker and hide my empty purse from Jerry again. All this with my two next-to-baby toes rubbing raw inside my shoes because the toe boxes are too small and I can't get new shoes for 2-3 more months yet. Custom fitting my ass!

So I hope you can see why I hate to leave home more than once a day. If I were younger, I'd sign off by saying FML.

Wind In My Hair

My main "helper," Vonnie, loaned me her late father's mobility scooter to take to the USLMRA's Championship Finals over Labor Day weekend, and I still have it here. Last night after we returned from the cancer benefit race in Mayville, I had a sudden whim to jump on it and run with the dogs. I've been wanting to do that ever since I discovered how much Cooper loves to run! I'd try to chase him, but he'd circle around behind and chase me instead, but it's all good! Maybe I'll make an offer to Vonnie to see if she'd sell it to me.

My New Hometown

Several months ago Bill and I moved to Harrison, MI. Bill, having grown up in nearby Farwell, finds this enormously embarrassing, and refers to our location as "Northern Clare County." But I like it here, and find the people open and friendly. I've been in small towns where everyone eyed outsiders with suspicion, and no one will have anything to do with you unless they know your entire background and all your relatives. Harrison doesn't strike me as being this way, and Gladwin never did either.

Yesterday I took a deep breath and called the salon around the corner from where I live and made my first appointment with them. It's crazy for me to drive all the way back to Clare for a haircut, especially since I wear a short style and need it cut frequently. The shop I went to is owned by relatives of someone we share a property line with, so I used that as an opening for a friendly conversation. The shop itself is polebarn-ish in construction with gravel parking right outside the door. It's easy to get in and out of in summer months, but might be a different story in the winter.  Unfortunately, the haircut is really awful, and I feel that it makes me look man-ish. Think "lesbian--with a Snookie-poof."

Another nearby business I've visited since I moved here is a complete disaster. I live right next door to a discount grocery store, which sounds GREAT, right? The entrance is at ground level so I walked right in with my cane, only to be faced with a half-flight of the worst stairs I've ever tried to use since my disability. The steps were too shallow to put my full foot down, and only one rickety handrail. Another customer saw my plight and helped me up the steps. The store clerk pretended not to notice. I don't know if she was one of the owners or hired help. Either way, I never went back.

A third business here in Harrison I want to mention is Steve's Country Market. They generally have good prices on gallon milk, which is handy because they are the closest store. But I love them for their meat and deli counter! It's HUGE, and the prices are the lowest in the area. Very good quality as well! And the best part about the store is the people working there. They seem happy to be working there, as though they love their jobs and each other's company.

Harrison is the intersection of Old US-27 and M-61. It appears there once was a "downtown" district several blocks long on a street at an angle to both highways. But the focal point, Surrey House, sits empty and forlorn, no longer the lovely restaurant you took your grandmother for dinner. There is still the downtown branch of Chemical Bank across the street, a solid "old" bank by current Michigan standards. McLean's Pharmacy is on the same side of the street,locally owned and housing a tasteful gift shop. Also a laundromat that I hope I never have to use, and I think a hair salon. I'm sure there are other businesses still open on that street, but since I never drive down it, I forget what is there.

However there are many little businesses strung along Old US-27, some in strip malls and some free-standing. The difficulty is determining which are still open and which have closed, because they nearly all have that "I'm not putting any effort into the exterior because I don't know how long I'll be here" look to them. I know that Harrison once had the distinction of being the welfare capitol of outstate (non-Detroit) Michigan, and I don't think it's improved much since then. But I admire the people who remain hopeful and optimistic and keep trying and trying again with their little shops.

Adaptive Equipment Ripoffs

I was legally blind for about eight years. I developed diabetic retinopathy around the same time my kidneys were failing. My eyesight would come and go, and when it went it was quick, often leaving me stranded. After several years of suffering this condition, my renal social worker was able to hook me up with the proper state agency to provide me with support and advice. They, in turn, sent me to the Michigan School for the Blind in Kalamazoo.

At blind school, I was introduced to a number of devices designed to help blind users in their everyday activities. Many of them had audio prompts; the use used bright lights and magnifiers. I came home with a talking wristwatch, a talking calculator, a lighted magnifier that clamped onto a table, a portable hand-held lighted magnifier, a tiny pocket-sized lighted magnifier and a talking glucose monitor.  The State of Michigan covered some of these items, Medicare and my health insurance covered some others, and the rest came out of my own pocket. And this is when I discovered that items designed particularly for the blind are outrageously expensive! Especially when compared to the cheap quality of the design and materials used.

You can imagine my anger and disgust when my vision eventually partially returned and I discovered that many of the items I paid through the nose for buying them from a vision-assistance center or from catalogs from places like Maxi-Aid and Lighthouse could be found through everyday gadget catalogs at much cheaper prices!

I was reminded of this again today when I read an e-mail from FootSmart.com. I use this company often for the comfort of my poor deformed footsies, so I browsed the day's sales while eating my breakfast. I was looking specifically for ideas to make my upcoming trip to USLMRA Nationals, my one-mile Kidney Walk and my fall color/wine tasting trip to Traverse Bay more comfortable. I found several solutions that should do the trick, but they were so small and simple, I was aggravated that they charged anywhere from $6.99 to $19.99 for TWO! For what they were, I should have gotten 100 or a gross for that amount! Then to add insult to injury, those annoying, tiny words at the bottom of the description:  Not for use by diabetics or those with poor circulation. GAH!

Finally I started reading the customer comments on the products, particularly the unsatisfied customers. And wouldn't you know, one had the perfect solution for me. I am so stupid, why didn't I think of this?  One solution for both problems I was trying to avoid! 3M Coban. I'd gotten some for free from 3M for being a fan of Greg Biffle, who's NASCAR team they sponsor. It's that stretchy, breathable fabric that sticks so itself and nothing else. I can cut a skinny little strip to pad the toe that keeps rubbing and blistering the inside of my shoe, and I can cut another skinny little strip to keep two toes on the other foot from rubbing together and ulcerating. Bingo!

I still read gadget catalogs from Lillian Vernon, Harriett Carter, etc every chance I get. You never know when I'll find another new solution for cripply goodness that I can bundle with an order for a microwave egg boiler or cheap resin garden gnomes!

Doggy Doc Disaster

Today I'm commenting on the veterinary clinic Wild Bill insists on using.  They have several handicap parking spaces just outside the front door of the waiting area, but the actual exam rooms are down a flight of stairs. No ramp, no elevator, just stairs. I guess the owner of the clinic doesn't feel that elderly and/or handicapped people are entitled to talk to the vet directly when they bring their pet in for an exam, or to hold their beloved friends in their final moments before they leave for the Rainbow Bridge. But mostly I feel for the older, large dogs who are prone to hip problems.

I had hoped that when we moved up to Harrison, we'd transfer our pet care to the vet just two miles down the road from us. Close by, well thought of by the locals, a vet I'd used in the past and been satisfied with. However Wild Bill had taken his first dog there once, about 18 years ago, and didn't like him. *facepalm*

Gimping 101

As I become braver about leaving my house and traveling in Michigan with my walker, I notice things that outrage me, confuse me or make me giggle uncontrollably. I don't have a lot of differently-abled friends to share these thoughts with, so I thought I'd start an innocuous blog and hope the occasional stranger might wander in, browse, and possibly even appreciate my musings.

When I first started having difficulty getting around, I had a cast on my left leg up to my knee and used crutches. I discovered early-on that the only places away from home that I could count on being able to use a restroom were hospital facilities and McDonald's. Believe it or not, thirteen years ago you could almost always count on a McDonald's restroom being CLEAN, which was rarely true at Burger King, Wendy's, or other fast-food place we might stop for lunch along the way. I once found myself trapped between the inner door and outer door while leaving the restroom at a Burger King and had to wait there until another female felt the urge! If I couldn't manage the doors on crutches, how does a person in a wheelchair manage?


I have three Big Deal excursions planned for the upcoming months. The first is the US Lawn Mower Racing Association National Championships, a Kidney walk, and a color tour/wine tasting bus trip. These will all be "firsts" for me since I've become chained to a walker. I hope there will be more!