Yesterday my self-imposed stress level went down and it was a fairly calm, easygoing day. Friend V. only dropped in the very early evening, which enabled me to use "we're eating dinner" as an excuse not to invite her in. (Friend B was here. I had to kick him out, too, when my constant yawning made conversation difficult.)

It sounds shitty, but when someone drops by every single day and sometimes stays for hours, including meals? It becomes wearing.

An AA member blew a fuse yesterday, calling the movement a bunch of crock (he used many, many more colourful words than that) and us a bunch of shit-eating morons. Then he picked up his jacket and stomped out.

Looks like someone was having a case of the Mondays... on a Tuesday.

Abby!

Behold the latest addition to our family - my dad's new puppy, Abby.

I don't think I need to state the obvious.

Two left thumbs (and feet)

For the past week I have become increasingly stressed - mostly by myself. I am in some kind of phase wherein I have developed the clumsies. I bump into things, drop things, fumble with inanimate objects and, most of all, forget words or actions, often in mid-sentence or mid-stride. I keep trying to do 5 things at once and get muddled ala "What was I doing?"

All of this is peeving me, making me berate myself and curse constantly. For now, I'm putting it down to fatigue and stress, but I had a thought that made me pause last night.

When I tripped over my computer cable and bashed my head (black eye fading nicely, still a wee bit darker on the upper eyelid than the other eye), I landed on the side of my face - upper cheekbone and far right forehead. The bruise on the forehead is gone, but I realized yesterday that there's still a bump there and that it's sore to the touch. I've also had mini-headaches since the fall and they are precisely behind that bump.

I'm wondering if I didn't smush a piece of brain and am forever doomed to be a crotchety, scatterbrained cat lady.

Saturday odds & ends

Beautiful day
I was awakened by what appears to be a new internal alarm clock, set to 5:15 a.m., but forced myself back to sleep for another 45 minutes. Much to do today. Barring unforeseen circumstances -- which would involve, I guarantee you, a last-minute change of plans involving girlfriends -- my son and his friend will come play "moving men" for the afternoon. The sun is warm, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. Looks like we're in for a nice one.

Shot of tulips at shopping centre

Another tale of woe
Ran into "Friend" V. yesterday while moving a few boxes upstairs and she's had another crisis (tune in often! new sob story daily! details at 11!) involving a fight with someone and the obligation to break the brand-new lease. So we're back to the "no place to live" soundtrack. She's staying at a women's shelter temporarily (has been on and off all winter) where bed and board costs her $100/month. She gets a social assistance/disability cheque of more than $800/month -- just sayin'. She has a place to go, even though she fishes obliquely each day for the possibility that I might lend her a couch. She doesn't like the shelter because there are rules.

I can't let her stay here even once overnight, she'd wear me out. She plans to come over this morning, though, and then she'll tell me her latest story (over and over) but that's when I will be placidly occupied peeling 50,000 (that's CAN 49,500, Kate) potatoes, leaving me free to nod and cluck my tongue now and then in apparent sympathy.

I shouldn't say that. Someone who always prefers not to be mentioned keeps telling me "compassion, compassion." I try.

Itchy
A big difference between city and country living is black flies. In the 28 months I've lived beyond suburbia, the flies seemed relatively harmless, albeit annoying as they flit in your face. I had never been bitten by one until yesterday. Did you know white vinegar is great for itchy bug bites?

Sloppy girl
It bothers me that the girl upstairs moved out early and had three full weeks to clean the apartment she vacated, but did not. As such, I have to wipe down all of the cupboards, doors, window and door frames, and clean all the windows -- stuff I will being doing here once I've moved out completely. Bah.

Will update items of possible interest as the day progresses.

Shoulda placed bets...
My son and his buddy were here for just two hours. I TOLD YOU a girlfriend issue would pop up! I won't say the boys weren't helpful, but we would have accomplished much more if Alex's friend hadn't been in such a hurry to race back into the city to see his girlfriend.

Friend B. showed up tired and cranky and I was feeling the same, so when I said something sarcastic, he walked away and never came back. On the other hand, he's shown a jealous streak before, and there were 3 other people here today, so... whatever!

The move begins...

My son is coming tomorrow; it has been more than 4 months since I last saw him. He and his buddy are driving up to help with moving prelims - mostly boxes. I still can't do too many stairs at this point.

I told him I'd feed them lunch, since they're only staying for the day; said I'd make a potato salad and stuff. He said, "You'd better make a big batch, because he eats twice as much as me." Holy shite, that means a lot of food.

Think of me tomorrow morning and know that I will be peeling many, many potatoes.

I also plan to serve them a Hungarian dip that is quite delish.

1 package cream cheese
1 container whipped cream cheese
1 onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup butter or margarine
Paprika to taste

For me, "to taste" means lots of paprika. And I won't be eating any of the stuff, because that's too much dairy fat for me!

Got unwanted flak from my AA bulldog yesterday for not attending a meeting. I slept instead, a much-needed nap and my first since the hospital. I told him firmly that this was not up for debate, and he just as firmly disagreed. So I did something I'm good at: went silent. I will be talking to a long-time member today IRL to inquire about this bulldoggy-preachy-stressful behaviour.

Another stressor: Friend V., who used to live here with Friend M, both of whom I mentioned in a recent post. M. is moving out at last today, and that means we'll be seeing a lot less (I think) of V. She has taken to coming over here every single morning to repeat her soundtracks and I know full well she's really only in this part of town because she wants to see M. I am what we call in French a "bouche-trou" -- a stopgap. Her daily presence has become a drag on my energy, so I have taken to putting stickies on my door: "Napping" "Back later" etc.

She also spins stories. Last week she came limping over to the swing in the yard, saying she'd twisted her knee. Later, she was walking just fine. Same thing yesterday - said she'd twisted her ankle, but later walked past Friend B. and me as we were sitting on a terrace getting some sun, and there was no limp. Let me just say now: I HATE FAKE SYMPATHY BIDS. Do not expect me to cluck and coo over you when you're lying.

So we'd grabbed the last 45 minutes of sun on the terrace, then went inside the restaurant for dinner. I had a smoked salmon starter that featured a lovely little ornamental splash of olive oil and a sweet, syrupy dark-brown liquid on the corner of the plate. It was so delicious that when Chef Daniel made the rounds of the table (fishing for compliments? or truly interested in his patrons?) I asked him what it was.

1 litre balsamic vinegar
4 cups (!) sugar

Reduce to thick, syrupy consistency.
Drizzle over good olive oil. Dip bread. Yum.

Torn asked for a mini-story I said I'd post, so here it is.

Friend B's been picking wild garlic for us both almost every day this week. I have a batch I need to conserve in olive oil and vinegar this morning, as a matter of fact. B. eats the bulbs raw. (So do I, but far fewer than him.)

B.'s co-workers all seem to be incompetent boobs. He says the mid-level boss in charge of hiring would take a monkey off the street to work for him. His people are as dim and poorly trained as he is. When B had that imaginary throat blockage last week and couldn't eat, his co-workers one day were waving their (junk) food in his face, taunting him. Little did they know their 2-watt boss was standing in the doorway and gave them holy hell for being such nasty shits.

So B. started eating wild garlic and one day in the lunchroom, started letting loose with farts. Big, windy, noisy, malodorous garlic farts. The boys gagged, shouted in protest, and fled the room.

Sweet revenge.

Rant: On small irritations

It will take a lot of work, overcoming the irritation that often arises from the rudeness, obliviousness, and unconscious poor social habits of others.

I had several moments of irritation yesterday: The first, when a friend dropped in as she does most mornings lately. I plied her with my special coffee (which she pronounced “sinful”) and cigarettes, because she’s broke. But she is one of those people with their own soundtrack, the kind that is set to ‘replay’ a single topic, word for word, to the detriment of almost all other conversation.

So you sigh inwardly and simply nod or go ‘uh-huh’ in agreement when she brings it up for the nth time. I know several people like this, and I suppose neutral agreement is one way to tolerate/handle it.

Then her X-boyfriend M, a neighbour who is about to move out, came over. V. repeated her soundtrack for him, too. So let’s say I heard the tune about a dozen times or more before they both left.

I gave M. a coffee, because like V., he’s constantly broke and goes without certain luxuries. He gets a disability cheque, as does V., but neither seem to be able to handle their monthly stipend beyond the first week of each month. It is my pleasure to introduce them to fine coffee, hoping to forever ruin them against the bitter, ordinary taste of Timmy’s or (*shudder*) instant java.

M. kept asking me questions, then cutting me off in the middle of my replies. After a few times, I muttered, “He’s not even listening,” which V. heard and repeated, and M. ignored us completely. I swallowed my irritation. (A wise man once said, “Sometimes silence is the best answer.” I am practicing that these days.)

Then M. decided he wanted to shave his head and asked if I had clippers. My son’s are still here so I loaned them to him. A few moments later, he asked if he could shave his head in my kitchen. “I’ll clean up after,” he said. I considered this for a nanosecond, then said mildly, “Uh, no.” (No real irritation there, just bemusement, considering his apartment is two doors away.)

The next one made me downright angry. Emphysema Man is the town’s biggest big mouth, a gossip who truly has little else better to do. If you want word of anything to spread, tell EM. (It would be amusing to tell him I’ve won the lottery and see what happens.) Thanks to him, everyone in this apartment complex knows I’m going to AA. I don’t mind that; spreading positive news is fine. But yesterday he passed along a completely fabricated tidbit.

A friend had dropped in and we'd driven up to the mall so I could show her the bettas I plan to buy, and after grabbing a quick bite, she drove me back home.

EM, who I had not actually spoken to at all that afternoon or evening, although we waved at each other from a distance, told all and sundry that I had “gone with a friend to shop for translation books.”

Innocuous? Sure. False? Yes.

My point is: if he can invent this bit of idle gossip for the sheer sake of having something to say, what else is he saying about me based on uninformed speculation?!

When I have simmered down sufficiently and am able to tell him calmly to stop this sort of thing, I will.

Later in the day, I had a telephone convo with an old friend, who does tend to listen fairly well to others but has the bad habit of constantly interrupting. She stays on topic (for the most part) and keeps track of where you were in your own part of the dialogue, but the constant interruptions tire me.

Enough beefing for now. It is 4:00 a.m. and I had what I consider an extended nap rather than a full night’s sleep and will be going back to bed when most folks are getting up for the day. First I will finish off some work due for mid-morning. It's sure to surprise my client if she happens to notice the time stamp.

Up before the sun, even

Gah! I knew going to bed at 8 PM would come back to bite me... awake at 4:48 and raring for one of my mochaccinos -- best coffee in the Lower Laurentians, babies!

I figure by noon I'll be yawning and dying for a nap, but I plan to go to today's midday meeting anyway, then crash later. I have wanted to nap every single afternoon since I got out of hospital (precisely one week ago) but haven't managed it - partly, I think, because I want to make the most of every day. That's sobriety for ya... been in this situation before, anxious not to miss a moment of real living.

I do not plan to talk a lot about my meetings, but how can I resist talking about some of the people there, although, as per usual, anonymously?

A few minutes into yesterday's meeting, there were some late arrivals. Now, everyone hates coming late into any sort of meeting, because all heads swivel that way and the person feels kind of... scrutinized, right? So I glanced over as a young girl came in then looked away. About 10 minutes later I glanced her way again at the table and realized that I knew her. She was looking at me at the same time, and a teeny current of telepathy flew between us. It was a "I know you/Yeah, I know you!" moment, and I winked at her, and she gave me a tiny, shy smile.

My first thought: Holy shit, girl, you're too young to be here! Followed by... "Never too young to realize you might have a problem, good for you, wish I'd done the same at your age, I might have staved off an awful lot of heartbreak."

My Ontario bulldog calls daily and shares his experiences freely, some of which are so common to hardcore alkies that it's freakin' uncanny, and some that are beyond my scope of experience and even scarier.

Friend B. brought me some wild garlic yesterday. It's growing in a field behind his workplace. You can eat it raw and while it's definitely garlicky, it's not super strong-tasting. You can put the leaves in a salad, too. I just ate them as is. Good for blood circulation and prevention of clots, garlic! I'm not allowed to go pick any with him, since getting to the field would require passing through his employer's property - maybe we can finagle something with his supervisor... we'd have to act quickly because wild garlic season ends in something like a week. In Quebec, you're allowed to pick a maximum of 75 bulbs. As with some plants (wild orchids, and so on) wild garlic is protected against overpicking, but I imagine there are plenty of unscrupulous people out there. My neighbours, who pick duffel bags full, go to Ontario for theirs, where the law is different.

So now you know: if you get hopelessly lost in a forest in the first two weeks of May, you can subsist on fiddleheads and garlic.

That's it for now, I might post something later but as usual, who knows.

(8:42 a.m.) Could quite easily go back to bed now, in spite of two coffees. Phone calls to make, stuff to do... Makes me wish I had some uppers...

Was pawing through the bathroom closet and shocked to see how much STUFF I have. Seven deodorants (?!), multiple face creams, exfoliants, and masks, multiple bottles of different brands of body and hand and foot lotions, scrubs, wrinkle cremes, shower gels - INSANITY, I tell you!

Sandal weather is almost upon us. In fact, many women in Cow Town are already wearing sandals. I cannot. My feet are a post-winter mess, despite almost daily pumice treatments. It appears I will be forced (oh woe is me) to break down and get my first-ever professional pedicure. Soon.

I've lost the memory card for my camera. This is a catastrophe, because I have limited internal memory AND I CAN'T FIND THE CABLE TO DOWNLOAD PICS TO THE COMPUTER. I haven't used the cable in forever and who knows where it's packed away.

I bet anything the card will turn up the instant after I buy a new one.

I also am puzzled as to why Picasa2 appears to delete entire sets of photos I have uploaded to the program. All of my deer shots have gone poof. This might be a case for backup.

*Yawn*

Bloody arachnids

Woke up with three spider bites on the left hip this morning. I saw the little bastard on the wall in my bedroom last week and tried to whack it, but it was in a hard-to-reach spot, fell unharmed and disappeared. I shuffled the stacks of books that live in that corner (most of said books have since been donated to the hospital) but didn't find the critter. Now, it appears it made its way into my bed, which means stripping the linens off and finding it before it bites again.

I hate spiders. You just wait till I have my Siamese Fighting Fish. As I did last summer (perversely enough, to feed a resident spidette living in a cubby of an outer window) I will smack insects just enough to stun them, then drop them into the fish tank. Enjoyment will ensue for me and the fish.

More later, if anything interesting happens today.

And so the new phase begins...

Today: the first AA meeting since... um... 2004? 2005? A relative lined up a telephone support person for me in Ontario, and let me just say he's a bulldog.

I was reluctant to attend a meeting here in Cow Town, because I thought, "People I know will see me there." Chances are, that's true, but it's also true that I will most probably see people I know. And since we're in the same boat, there will be no shame. Anyway, it's a daily noontime discussion group almost directly across the street from me - about a block down. One of the mottos is 90 days/90 meetings, so that's my target.

Just because I have no desire to drink now -- none, it's like "ick-feh-poison-pain-death!" -- doesn't mean I won't have cravings some time in the future. There is no fooling oneself on that count. It will happen.

So, yay me. But mostly, yay, Ontario Bulldog.

It's Mother's Day. Happy day to all the moms out there who come to this blog. I hope your kids give you an extra hug or show some other form of appreciation.

I may or may not update the AA stuff later.

Yesterday I did none of the things I told myself I would do. Instead, I went into the woods and picked fiddleheads. I was lucky; I had been told that they'd be ready only next week, but many ferns have begun to sprout and the larger ones' heads had already unfurled. I managed to find a good bunch, though, and will probably go back for more today. I ate half of yesterday's batch with dinner last night and they were delicious. The freshest greens you can find -- and free! You wouldn't believe the prices for them in stores.

I would have given some to Friend B. By dinnertime, I'd spent most of the day in his company (not to mention most of this past week) and needed my alone time. So as I say, I would have given him half the batch, but he does not know how to boil vegetables. Let us all pause now to consider that and, perhaps, shake our heads. (I steam mine; that's, like, extra complicated.)

I also ran some little errands. One was finding plain brown wrapping paper, the kind suitable for sending packages in the mail. After many phone calls over the past few weeks (and in between, plenty of procrastination), I finally found a store that sells the stuff. They had a single roll left so I grabbed it. Now I can wrap Kate's Christmas present and send it!!!!!! (That definitely required the use of several exclamation marks, something to which I am not generally prone.)

Today it is gloriously sunny again and other than my meeting, I think I won't make any real plans. I had to get a little stern with my upstairs neighbour yesterday as we and another (lady) neighbour sat and gossiped on the swing in the yard. He said, as he has done every single day since Wednesday, that I have to get to my packing - to which I've replied each time, "When I'm strong enough." To which he's always agreed: "When you're ready; you've got time."

So when he said it again yesterday, I got a little pissed and said, "We've been over this every single day this week," and the lady neighbour (who's a close friend of his), said, "Stop it! You're stressing her out!" And I answered, "Yes, he is." So he seemed chastened.

That said: I WILL BE DOING SOME BOXES TODAY.

Later, kids.

(Later: Did the meeting, didn't do boxes. Got caught up watching back-to-back movies on Superchannel - Night Watch, then Rise: Blood Hunter. Sheesh. My love of gore and the supernatural is unabated.)

Saturday odds & ends

Back in February a friend sent me a link to a site which describes the health benefits of a honey and cinnamon combination. If it is all true, then it is fascinating. Here’s a link to the site . A couple of excerpts:

Immune system
The daily use of honey and cinnamon powder strengthens the immune system and protects the body from bacteria and viral attacks. Scientists have found that honey has large amounts of vitamins and iron. Constant use of honey strengthens the white blood corpuscles to fight bacteria and viral diseases.

Cholesterol
Two tablespoons of honey and three teaspoons of cinnamon powder mixed in 16 ounces of tea water, if given to a cholesterol patient, reduces the level of cholesterol in the blood by 10% with in 2 hours. For arthritic patients if taken 3 times a day chronic cholesterol can be cured.

Also described: Effective preventive and curative food for heart disease, influenza, arthritis, cancer, upset stomach (ulcers), and a means of weight loss (mixture in 1 cup hot water ½ hour before breakfast and same before bedtime).

Siamese Fighting Fish
After my move upstairs at the end of the month, I plan to buy a Siamese Fighting Fish (betta splendens). I was waiting for a friend at the mall yesterday, and happened to be playing with caged kittens in front of the pet shop (in one of those 'just-shoot-me-now-cuteness' moments) when I spotted a couple of dozen small jars, each containing a betta – well-known to some people, but not very familiar to me, having precious little knowledge about fish. BEAUTIFUL BETTAS! The males, of course, are more brilliantly coloured than the females, as is so often the case in nature (harrumph!)

Although I would dearly love to “rescue” all of those bettas from their tiny temporary homes, you cannot put males together in the same aquarium; they are very aggressive with each other. Therefore, I might buy two of the duller-coloured females, but more likely I will buy one gorgeous male. (After all, I’m not quite prepared to put male and female together and deal with the consequences, which include separating the male two days after the fry are born to prevent him from eating them!)

Betta information – interesting stuff!

http://freshaquarium.about.com/cs/anabantids2/p/betta.htm

YouTube video: Two males, separated, ready to have a go at each other.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HUnr4XcTCww&NR=1

Photo courtesy of twofishguys.com

It’s all in his head?
Friend B. saw a doc yesterday for his iodine scan results. As I left the examination room to wait outside, I heard the doc say, “Mr. B, there is nothing…” and then the door shut. A few minutes later B. came out with a bemused look on his face, and I knew exactly what he would say. There is no lump or blockage in his throat. The doc said it was psychological and very likely brought on by work-related stress (no surprise there) and lack of sleep due to that stress. We then went back inside for a lung X-ray, which were immediately interpreted and given the all-clear.

Friend B. and I went straight to the grocery store and he bought a package of pepper steaks, a food he had been moaning about ad nauseum for two weeks. Back at my place, I cooked him one, medium rare, along with a couple of fingerling potatoes. All the way through his meal, I chanted (probably annoyingly) “There’s nothing in your throat. There’s nothing in your throat. Swallow. Swallow. Swallow.” And then I would click my heels three times. I went into another room to fold my laundry so as to avoid seeing him exaggerate the effort it took to eat (yes, I am tough on him because he's such a drama queen) and everything went down just fine. Now he’s back on the road to proper diet, good energy, and weight gain. He has some issues to deal with at work when he goes back on Monday. (I also dragged him to the barber shop yesterday for a badly needed haircut.)

I seem to have become a combination of little sister and nagging wife (without the marital fringe benefits for him... ha!)

This weekend
My plans for the next two days: REST REST REST and reading and gory Superchannel movies, and blog comments to the neglected (oh, I know they look forward to my visits because I’m so important in their lives). Also planned: some minor packing of boxes. I don’t even have to wrap things in newspaper because each box simply goes up the stairs and gets immediately unpacked. I will not be tackling the stairs this weekend, however. Just packing boxes of extraneous dishes and ornaments, my skijillion candles, etc.

Now if only the sun would come out, life would be complete.

What you are doing this weekend?