Happy, Merry MMP

metal mouse, check your local Publix or Kroger (that’s where I buy Frosty Paws for Nelson). Keep in mind, if you do take some to your brother’s dogs at Christmas, you’ll have to take a cooler or buy it once you’re there.

sari, check out Lowe’s for your washer. I bought a good basic Whirlpool model (made in Nashville to boot), along with a dryer in 2016 and got out for ~$800 delivered for the pair. Beats the hell out of a laundromat.

Moooooom, FCD may want to check out the available classes at the pool too. A few years back, when I was doing aqua aerobics on a regular basis, I checked out the community pool / college facility close to my folks’ when I went up for Thanksgiving. The class was instructed by an old dude, set to old rock and filled with geezers (I was the only woman in the class that night). It was fun!

{{{hippy}}} That was a lovely tribute to your brother.

unknown, I’m not even going to tell you about the eye treatments that I went through a few years ago.

Irked, they fed us (Jim - N - Nick’s), came home, took Nelson to the dog park (he got to play with Cinnamon, Chimichanga, Lola and Ollie), came home, et, napped and am now surfing and watching TV. Off for the weekend!

Stay safe and healthy y’all!

No kidding! She’s so photogenic and stuff! I bet she had a blast!

Tomorrow I will finally deliver 8 afghans to a local organization that helps families in need. I’ll be glad to get them out of the house and gladder to know they’ll warm folks who could use a little warmth.

But now I think I need sleep.

Heaved a double. Things were slightly less FUBAR today.

I get mine at the local grocery store.

Quarters, but some use proprietary Laundry cards.

So say we all.

Trust me, you did the right thing(Got 20 years of experience on that)

{{{{hippie}}}}. I’m sorry about your loss. Donald sounded like a good guy.

Just reading that, I’m done with the week.
{{{wordy and wordy family}}}}

Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I don’t remember any pain, I probably didn’t notice through the fear. Small people have small amounts of understanding about needles coming at eyes. It must have ripped your Dad’s heart out to have to hold you down while you screamed in mortal terror.

I’ve worn glasses since 7th grade because I ruined my eyes reading under the covers. Yes, that is what the ophthalmologist told my mother. He cited studies showing that Japanese men before WWII had terrible eyes because they studied so much and that men raised during the war didn’t ruin their eyes studying. I can kinda believe it because when I was stationed in Okinawa all of the men Mom’s age were about my size and the ones my age were usually taller than me.

You are a good person. I’m sure your afghans will be treasured for years.

Can I join in on the eye stiches fun? I must have been about 7, playing with the plastic golf clubs at my grandparent’s house. The dog snatched the head off of one club, so I go chasing after him, he went one way 'round the coffee table, I went the other. He came out and tripped me, head into the corner of the coffee table, blood gushing down my face. The only thing I could think of was; they just got new carpet installed, so I come out to the kitchen holding my shirt out to catch the blood.

7 stiches in the eyebrow of a 7 year old is a lot. Still have the scar. And I saved the carpet. I’ve got a similar scar in the other eyebrow, but I don’t remember the story. May have been when I rode my trike off a 10 foot retaining wall.

shoe Wise choice on refusing management.

unknown That eye doc was a quack.

{{{{{{ @LH75 }}}}}}

You certainly don’t want to hear about dentists’ opinions 50+ years ago.

I am so laughing about that because I got into a mid-air bike crash with another bike less than a week after my folks got new carpet. I managed to scrap both shoulders and knees as well as the front and back of both hands, there was lots of blood involved. I went next door to my best buddy’s house because they still had tile and I was allowed to walk to their bathroom for gravel picking and such.

So, I have learned that I make crap dill pickles because I don’t know what I’m doing. All of those icky IP proto-pickles have been pitched and I think I’m going to just buy dill pickles from now on. I have better things to waste my time on.

unknown Heh, I only got orthodontist screwups from 40 years ago. Where oh where are my eye teeth?

And all dill pickles are crap. (ducks) Gimme a bread and butter every time, maybe some sweet relish. Or a nice quick pickle. Dills are too much.

@BippityBoppityBoo

My adopted brother Donald played keyboards for the Grease Band. Your cousin Bob Ford replaced Donald when his MD got bad enough that he could no longer play. My other brother Danny, mentioned in my post and who played lead guitar, was replaced by Donald’s son Tommy when Danny died.

I hope this means you and I are thereby related, Cousin Hippie.

It does.

:grinning::grinning::grinning::grinning:

My mom is being treated for lung cancer. I did not know this until a casual remark a couple of hours ago. She tends not to tell me this kind of thing so I don’t worry, plus I misinterpreted what she told me about an earlier test result. She’s been treated for breast cancer in the past.

When I asked how she was doing with it, she was kind of cagey, saying it was as good as it can get, and the cancer wasn’t getting any bigger. I’m left unsure as to whether this has any deeper, sinister meaning or not. She seems to be taking this chemo better than the previous (she still has her hair and she doesn’t seem as sick generally as before), but I’m low key nervous now. She talks a lot about future plans (like in the next year or so), so she seems to be in good spirits, but I can’t help but wonder…

I’m on medicare because the government says so and I’m not as old as some of yall (tho i could be some of ya’s oldest kid_ and dec 3rd (the last day to switch plans although there is a 2nd chance in march) is a holiday for me cause they start in Septemeber …

I’m so sorry. It’s no fun wandering and wondering in the dark. I also had a mom who downplayed or didn’t tell us about health issues.

Could you have a sit-down with your mom and tell her not knowing the whole story means you have to worry all the time?

{{{Big hugs}}}

Good Mornin’ Y’all! Up and caffeinatin’. YAWN I pulled an all nighter! Yep, I did not wake up cause I had to go pee. Well, until a little after five a.m. at which point I decided I was done sleepin’. ‘Tis 45 Amurrkin out and clear with a predicted high of 79 and N.O.S. for the day. I shall betake myself over to the church house in a while to deal with some church janitor JW stuff and to prep some stuff for a funeral tomorrow mornin’. A co-Parishoner’s mother (she was not a member) died after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. She was ninety-five and he and his spouse were takin’ care of her. Sad, but she had a long run. Wow, that was rambly! Sup shall be majik intartoobz pizza and sallit just cause we can.

Leap sorry about your mother. She does not want you to worry, but worry you will anyway. Glad to know she seems to be toleratin’ the chemo pretty well.

Now I need more caffeine and to feed rumbly tummy. Then, alas, woe, and bother, I suppose I must needs purtify and don appropriate bein’ amongst the public attire. How I suffer!

Happy Firday Y’all!

I don’t know if it’s because I was forgotten since I was the only offspring not living near them, but I often didn’t get news about my dad’s health issues till long after the fact - stuff like hospitalizations for heart problems. I’d get the news almost as “Oh, by the way…” I just don’t understand parental secrecy in cases like this. Then again, family dynamics are so different across the spectrum of relationships.

My eye story isn’t near as gross as some of the others. But it requires a bit of background.

When I was a kid, batons were popular among many girls. They were dimpled metal tubes with rubber end caps - one large, one small. Naturally, an alternate use was as a “cane” so it didn’t take long before the ends of the tube pierced the end caps, thereby negating the safety factor.

Also, in our neighborhood, putting on a “show” was a big deal - at least among my friends. On this particular day, we were going to have a show in Vera’s yard, and we were in her basement practicing, because we couldn’t have potential customers seeing our acts ahead of time. Vera was doing a routine with my baton, and I was going to do a ballet number. (Self-taught, no less. I never had lessons, but I did get a couple of tu-tus from another neighbor who was in a recital.)

As we rehearsed, disaster struck. I executed a grand jeté just as Vera tossed the baton in the air as part of her routine. The protruding metal tube met my eyebrow in midair, and much blood and panic followed. Vera’s mom cleaned me up, relaxing after realizing it was my brow and not my eye that had been hit. And the show went on with a bandaged ballerina. The shadow of the scar is hidden behind my glasses frame.

FCD is going to the Dr’s office today to figure out WTH is going on. He had an MRI on Weds night, then yesterday, the hospital called and said they had an order to do a special MRI so the Dr could have a custom-made knee replacement for him. The last Dr didn’t do that, which makes us wonder what the deal is with this practice. One Dr says they keep knees in stock, this one has them custom made? So he’s going to try to sort it out. Why do I feel like our insurance company is getting reamed by these docs??

Apart from afghan delivery, I have nothing going today. I washed a couple of windows yesterday, and since it’s going to be somewhat mild later, I may do some more today. Come spring, I’ll do all the screens - they’re looking dirty but it’s too cold to mess with them right now, mild temps aside. I guess that’s my big day.

Happy Firday!!

Mor… uhhh… afternoon all.

{{Those who want one}}

My first traceable memory was nearly losing an eye- my big bro (age about 5 at the time) was digging in the garden with the claw of a hammer (see: age 5, also limited parental supervision). Toddler me walked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing at the same time as the hammer came up- it hit between my eye and nose, missing my eye by a couple of millimeters. They didn’t acually do traditional stitches, I got little bits of extra-strong sticky stuff holding the cut shut. I think stitches would have been very difficult in that spot. I can still see the scar.

My parents actually let my brother believe he’d taken my eye out until I got back from hospital- mean? Maybe, but it was the 3rd time he’d sent me to hospital, and I wasn’t even 3 yet… Never deliberately, I will add, just in a spirit of scientific inquiry. Like… you know that trick when you pull out a tablecloth and all the table settings stay put? It doesn’t work with a rug and a little sister.

Anyway; one deadline passed yesterday, stuff handed in OK for that, now I’m just finishing off an essay for next week.

Talking of small craft shops- I went into one of the nearby towns yesterday with the intent of visiting the nice -but-pricy yarn shop there, only to find it closed. No idea why, the hours on the door indicated it should be open, there’s nothing on the website or facebook group. I was forced to visit the not-so-nice one instead.

Christmas shopping is proceeding; I prefer to avoid the big online suppliers where possible, but I am going to have to get some stuff online I think.

Moooooom, even though my experience with laundromats is over five years old, they were beginning to take plastic like other vending machines. It was right down handy.

{{{leaper and MamaLeaper}}}

Up, caffeinating, breakfasted, a load of sheets and towels ready for the dryer and a load of jeans on deck. I’ll begin the house cleaning after this post and then go get the oil changed before purchasing groceries.

Stay safe and healthy y’all!

Leaper & Nellie - I hear you all. A couple of years ago, as I was literally moving to Tennessee (I mean literally, as in I was in the car, driving through the mountains, following the moving van.), my father called me to chit-chat. He mentioned that they were going to the ballet that afternoon, and nonchalantly mentioned that afterwards they were going to pop by the emergency room, because my mother had fallen down the stairs last night and broke a couple of ribs. I told him that they were both insane, and Mrs Magill immediately tattled on them to my sister via text. Thank goodness there is at least one responsible adult in Raleigh.