|
Viewing 10 - 13 out of 13 Blogs.
| Page:
|
2 |
Well dear souls; I have decided it is finally time to acknowledge my royal status.
I have kept this secret, lo these many years, deeming life would be much simpler if I could manage to live it incognito.
There comes a time however, when even the best kept secrets finally must be exposed to the light of day. I do realize that those of you who know best me must be somewhat surprised to discover that I am actually a princess. I do also fully understand that you have always considered me to be a somewhat hoydenish, country gal who is none too fond of dressing up or wearing shoes; a gal who is happiest dealing with recalcitrant critters, yanking weeds, and generally adhering to the pioneer manner of preserving the fruits of the earth, vine and tree.
You have known me also as a gal who is happiest spending her days ambling the highways and byways searching out secret places; a gal who will gladly wade through waist high swamp muck searching out elusive flora and fauna. (often ending up with a case of Poison Ivy). It is thus with a certain reluctance that I disclose my status, but I have realized lately that the truth can no longer be hidden. It's the bed you see. It doesn't love me anymore. Now, I wouldn't want you to blame the bed entirely. While it is true, that the mattress is well past it's best due date, the fault lies entirely with me and my royal blood, not the bed. It is a well known fact to some of you that I am a lifelong insomniac.
From my salad days, sleep and I were ever strangers.
It has now come to the point where we are not even on speaking terms. My nights are spent tossing and turning.
I have more ups and downs than a toilet seat. It's the peas you see. Oh, I don't mean real ones...
But my bed feels like there are peas under the mattress.
I feel every dimple, and crumple, each wrinkle and crinkle.
The nap on the sheets causes excruciating agony.
Now, some people might blame this on the osteoarthritis and fibromyalgia, but in fact the entire problem lies with my royal blood. Phew!
It sure is a relief now that you all know.
Confession really is good for the soul. So...
Now that the issue is out in the open.. I have decided to treat myself to a bed worthy of a princess.
I've bitten the bullet; grabbed the rose by the thorns; and...
I've ordered a new mattress. Now granted, I will still be sleeping on a circa 1810-1820 maple four poster bed with canopy, which has been converted from a rope bed, but now..
On top of the 1" plywood platform, which rests atop the side rails there will be a new 14" foam mattress, replacing the current 7" mattress.
Granted, the bed, which is already much higher than normal will be an additional 7" higher..
But I hope that sleep and I will once more become firm friends. Now..
Does anyone have an antique bed stool for sale? 
Tags: Sleeplessness Fibromyalgia Osteoarthritis
Well hello again from Hillsdale. I suppose over the several years in which we have been friends, you have all become familiar with the Hillsdale menagerie.
Now, most times the critters and I either agree, or agree to disagree.
At the moment though I am feeling entirely disagreeable. Now it could be because of the lack of sleep and the fact that I have just plumb hit the wall (it has been a busy 10 months).. or it could also be that as I age I'm just plain and simply turning into a right nasty old lady, but..
Whatever the reason I'm feeling downright ornery. The cause, is of course, another critter. Now sleep and I aren't on the best of terms, even under the best of circumstances.
I'm definitely a princess!
Every single wrinkle, dimple, bump or lump (real or imagined) turns into a gigantic pea. I've gone way past the edge of dreamland!
Gone are those wondrous nights with a pastel departure into dreamland and a softer pastel awakening..
At the moment it is strictly hammer in and hammer out.
I am tired! Worn out! Totally frazzled! Done to a turn! The latest irritant is an amorous lothario who insists on serenading me all night.
Now I am an acknowledged music lover, but the voice on this midnight lover, is at the moment, given my febrile state, akin to someone dragging their fingernails down a chalkboard.
It is shrill!
It is incessant!
And like Romeo of old...
He is directly beneath my bedroom window. I will reluctantly admit, that in my salad days, I was extremely enamored with both he and his song.
I found him winsome and attractive, and his song was cheering, and made me smile at the moon through the pulled back curtains.. I'm not sure exactly when our relationship soured...
It is a fairly recent occurrence....
But it has now come to the point where the sound of his voice sets my teeth on edge. And now my friends, I have a confession to make.
I am an accessory before and after the fact.
Yes.
I did it!
I entered into a conspiracy to commit murder.
I am here and now offering a confession to the world that my midnight lover has been 'offed'.
He is gone!
Deceased!
Stomped out! I stand before you ready to accept the consequences for my actions.
However...
Before you judge me too harshly...
There is such a thing as just retribution.
And..
I now have another lover in the porch, one under my back window, and another, once again under my bedroom window...
All of them singing their little hearts out. Will you all excuse me for a little while?
It would appear I have some rather urgent business to attend to.
Tags: Sleeplessness Fatigue Murder
Well, everyone is well aware by now of our ongoing and never ending battle with the Hellsdale wildlife population.
Granted, this year is somewhat improved over last year.
So far we have relocated only eleven raccoons as compared to twenty three last year.
One squirrel has gone for a ride as compared to three of the red coated little heathens last year.
Chippie was in the porch for a visit only once so far this year, after thinking he had the run of the house last year.
All in all a vast improvement. The once thing which continues to give me great pleasure is the sight of our livestock grazing out on the pasture.
Resembling nothing so much as a miniature herd of Black Angus, the black squirrels placidly work their way from one end of the property to the other, delicately picking up and discarding edibles.
Stately, never fighting..calmly going about the business of choosing both their food, and their store for winter.
I spend part of each day enjoying their progress across the lawn.
It also affords me amusement to find things growing where they shouldn't, and not growing where they were planted.
I don't have to do any transplanting..
It is all done with absolutely no strain or toil by my busy little workers.
They dig things up and plant them, and then lose them, and then rediscover them and plant them somewhere else.
This explains the large numbers of ash, oak and maple growing in my flower beds, and the large number of crocuses etcetera growing all over my lawn.
Since I can't garden anymore, I suppose I should appreciate all the unpaid labour. It was with a good deal of amusement that I noticed a change in the squirrel behavior last week.
One of our century old Sugar Maples gave up the ghost last fall, and this year stands as a barren skeleton against the sky where formerly it stood robed in verdant green.
The only reason it is still standing is that the dibs are not exactly in tune at the moment, and it will require a professional to limb it down due to the proximity to the Hydro lines.
One day last week I observed what I could only describe as excitement in the behavior of the herd.
There they were madly running around the base of the old Maple, reaching down, holding something to their noses and then busily nibbling away.
I thought at first they were looking for maple seeds.
Silly squirrels, there are none! The tree is dead.
However, turns out this little herd is a bunch of seasoned gastronomes. I don't know how many of you are fond of mushrooms, but there has been a great crop of them spreading along the extensive root system of the old, now dead Maple,
and it was mushrooms, not seeds the squirrels were gathering.
They would run to a mushroom, sniff it, pull off part of it, sniff it again and then stand there and nibble away in apparent ecstasy. For all the years I have been picking wild produce, including mushrooms, I have never seen such a sight.
I was totally unaware that squirrels eat mushrooms, let alone that they gather them, dry them, and store them for winter. As it turns out, now that I do know, it really isn't of much benefit to one who loves wild mushrooms.
Squirrels are able to pick, eat, and digest with no ill effects, mushrooms which would drop a human in his tracks.
They have a special adaptive lining in their stomach which neutralizes the toxins.
Ah well..
And here I was hoping I could just follow the squirrels to find my forest delicacies. However, although they won't help me stock my winter larder, I can still enjoy watching them stock theirs.
Tags: Wildlife
Up and at 'em folks...
And a hearty good morning to all..and sundry. (You know who you are.)... First:..
Thank you to all who have left comments..It is so very much appreciated.
Second:
As most of you are aware, I have taken a sabbatical to write a book.
The book is still a work in progress, but I have finally managed to approach the year 1800. Not bad at all I figure, given that I started in Beringia at the end of the last ice age. 10,000 years (give or take), is not a bad year's work.
At the moment, the book and everything else is on hold.
Last November, my youngest sister, (actually my baby as our mother developed metatastic breast cancer before she was aged 2), was diagnosed with stage 3 adenocarcinoma. As you can imagine, the past 4 months have been an emotional seesaw alternating between extreme hope and dark despair. She's a fighter, my kid, and we six sibs are in this all together. One for all and all for one. The way it has been our entire life.
Then my stepmother, (my Mom's first cousin), fell in January, broke her hip, and died after a 10 day hospitilization. Since she had never accepted that 6 children were part of the package she agreed to when she married my father, we have spent the past 3 months negotiating a separation, with the estate executor, of Mom and Dad's effects from hers.
Not, as you can no doubt imagine, an especially serene experience.
Today ends it with the return of Mom's and Dad's wee bits and bobs. Nothing of much monetary value, just things which were passed down through parents, grandparents and great grandparents. Postcards, letters, bibles, hymnals, as well as gifts to them from we children.
It is done.
The wonderful thing is that all my sibs, including my youngest sister will be arriving next week for a full 5 days, from points right across Canada, and staying here. We will all be together again once more under one roof.
We are taking this one small window of opportunity between the RAD/Chemo and Maggie's upcoming lung resection in May to all be united once more, and share lots of laughter, and I predict, not a few tears.
Such is the circle of life.
I haven't forgotten you, my friends, and I will return as soon as it is possible to do so.
At the moment everything is on hold as I spend hours on the phone and firing off/answering emails to my sister. I'm her life consultant at the moment, as I have spent the past 50 years specializing in acute and palliative health care. I miss you one and all...
And..
I will be back. Heather.
Tags: Family Death Renewal
| Page:
|
2 |
|
