Author: Dackel Princess

Have you ever taken stock of what you have in your cupboards, closets, or attic? Recently I started looking and I realized I had so much stuff that I do not use at all. It’s perfectly good. There are sets of dishes, silverware, glasses, casserole dishes, etc. Years of accumulation, plus the death of Hubby’s folks and absorbing their stuff too, made my collection way too big!
Hubby said, “Have a yard sale. Sell it on Ebay.”
That sounds good, but it means schlepping it all out, pricing it, setting up on the lawn, perhaps on a nice cold rainy day, (I know that this would happen, because, well, it’s me we’re talking about!).
I had a better idea.
My daughter just bought her own place. Her best friend is married and in her own home. They are young and starting out in life. Yep, you guessed it. I called them up, and asked them to come up for a “Treasure Hunt“!
They arrived at lunch, and once I fed them (a small bribe so they would take more of the stuff!), we went down and started sifting through boxes.
Before they knew what hit them, I’d gotten the entire back of the Subaru filled with boxes! I was just giddy with delight! They helped me decide to send several other boxes off to the Recycling Center (I just hope that jerky guy isn’t there to yell at me), and what to actually throw out. All in all, it was a very constructive day.
I made Hubby a pot of Lamb Paprikash and then jumped into my pajamas to relax. I think I hear the sound of a tea kettle calling my name! Hmmmmmm.

I was doing my wifely duties today. This means I was doing a job that was formerly Hubby’s, but due to his infirmities, I am now doing. I was doing the dump run. Here in New Hampshire we have a “recycling center”. We employ DPW guys to manage the facility and help sort things out when there is a question. Mostly this is a pain free job, and I do it, not because I love to do it, but because it must be done.
Today I went over to the recycling center with a Jeep load of trash, plastic bottles, cardboard and newspapers. I was doing my part.
I managed to get all the cardboard over to the cardboard pile, when in a very loud voice one of the workers says, “Lady, you can’t do this!”
I went back and looked at the cardboard. “Do what?” I asked, innocently.
“These wine boxes.” (what can I say, Hubby is a cheap date!) “You have to pull the insides out of each box before you put them here!”
I could see all the other recycler’s looking at me. I felt small and stupid and like a giant spotlight was on me.
“Oh, what do I do with the insert?” I asked feebly “Should I put those in the burnables?” (I was trying so hard to look like I fit in by using recycling lingo.
“Just put them in the trash.” he grumbled.
I quickly finished my sorting, and then I jumped in the Jeep and got out of there quickly. How was I to know? Did he really have to be so gruff, loud and angry with me? I felt near to tears. I drove home and took it out on the only person I could. Hubby. After all it was his stupid wine boxes that caused all the trouble. I don’t even drink!
A little while later, I got groused at again, and I felt like crying. I know people have bad days, but I guess I am just feeling overly sensitive right now.
It is snowing hard and looking more and more like shoveling will be needed later this afternoon.
What else can happen today?

Yesterday I discovered that the hospital Hubby will have surgery at has a program where you can stay at an area motel at a drastically discounted rate. We called and made reservations there for me, and the pups. They are dog friendly. This means I won’t be driving 2 1/2 hours each day to be with Hubby after surgery. I am so relieved. I want to be with him after this operation. I remember what it was like for him the last time, and I know I did a lot to help with his care.
We are due for 5-7 inches of snow today. I am not happy. They say it will be light fluffy snow, and easy to shovel. Easy for who? Oh well, what do I expect, anyway? It’s February, it’s New England and into every life, a little snow must fall!
I was looking at the calendar. Yes, I often do this. I was looking into the future to when Greta will have her next heat, and then forward to when she would actually deliver puppies. I was surprised to see that the puppies would come right around the time that would have been Shubi’s birthday! I think this is a good omen.
I went shopping for salad fixings and there in the butcher’s meat case was a leg of lamb, on sale! I love lamb, and have had a hankering for it, but the prices were so high I simply wouldn’t spend the money on it. Yesterday, however, the price was right! So tonight we will have roasted lamb with asparagus! Yum!
I suppose I should get the shovels ready and put my boots by the door (heavy sigh).

Today I was evaluated by a Corneal Surgeon, Dr. M. for problems in my left eye from an improperly fitted lens implant. I knew, way back when I had the cataract removed in 2001 that the implant was wrong. I tried to get them all to listen to me, and they didn’t. The result was a botched attempt with a laser to solve this problem, and then, of course, the detached retina. The doctor indicated today, that had they gone right back in and replaced the lens in 2001 then the entire series of misadventures with this eye would have been avoided. Of course the question now is, what to do? Trust me, it does not make you feel particularly confident when the doctor examining you spends much of the appointment basically scratching his head. This seems to be beyond what he can fathom.
He wants me to use these drops to constrict the pupil, in hopes that this will alleviate the symptoms I have. I did try these in the past, and they gave me a terrible headache and brow ache. So, I am not terribly thrilled about trying this again. Meanwhile he wants to conference with Dr. C. (My Retinal Surgeon) and find out all he can about my eye. After all, no one knows my left eye, inside and out, like Dr. C.
What we do know now is that replacing the lens would be difficult, perhaps even dangerous. How much of a risk, he couldn’t say. Or wouldn’t say. Not until he speaks with Dr. C.

On our way home, (which is a 55 mile drive) it was snowing like crazy! The roads were not in the best shape either. Hubby was driving, and so I could relax. As we neared a little town, we observed a driver, who had gone off the road, pulling back on the road again. I mentioned to Hubby that the guy wasn’t sitting correctly in his car. He was sort of slumped over to one side. Anyway, his driving was really bad. We followed him all the way across the state. As we neared our hometown, the guy dropped a front tire off the main part of the road and then went right off, smashing into a mailbox and roadside newspaper box! We were just so grateful that he didn’t spin out and into us! We saw that aside from the murdered mailbox, he was fine, so we kept on going.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and we arrived home safe and sound.

I looked at the calendar when we got back home and realized that in one week, Hubby goes for his pre-op visit with his Orthopedic Surgeon, Dr. F., and then a week later, he has the operation!
Time does not sit still, does it?

Do you ever wonder if you were truly related to your parents? I ask myself this question all the time. In fact my sister and I would like to ask for a DNA test. We are that sure that they aren’t our real parents!
First of all, they are nothing like us. Mel and I are fairly happy people, who love their kids and families and actually enjoy doing things for other people. We also are never too busy to listen to another person or help them through a rough patch.
So, I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when they called to offer (their form) of sympathy for my loss of Shubi. The call went something like this between my mother and me.

Mom: It’s too bad about Shubi.
Me: Yes. I feel pretty bad
Mom: I’ve been feeling pretty sick lately. Today I had a bad blood sugar attack because I forgot to eat lunch. And you know me I never forget to eat lunch.
Me: You shouldn’t do that.
Mom: Well, I was so sleepy. I don’t know why, I slept until 9 and then I fell back asleep until your father woke me up. And he is sick too. Stomach problems. (She told me more but I will not gross you out. It was bad enough that I had to listen!)
Me: Oh that’s too bad.
Mom: I was worried we wouldn’t be able to go to the dinner at church, but it looks like we will make it. I think it will be a lot of fun.
Me: That’s good.
Mom: What’s all that noise?
Me: Greta needs to go out.
Mom: I had a nice dog one time. Baby was a good dog.
Me: Yes, she was, but Shubi was very special to me.
Mom: My dog was special.
Me: Yes, well, Greta needs to go out so I’ve got to go.

Why do I expect that she will ever be able to offer any sort of loving support when I am grieving? Why do I even hope that maybe she can see a world that does not revolve around her? It always has to be about her. Her needs, her sicknesses, her life. Is it that she is truly incapable of seeing her own child’s pain?
Yep. I want that DNA test!

What a strange day. I woke up this morning with the mother of all hot flashes. I’m telling you, it soaked me from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet! Then I got chills. Really strange stuff here. Three hours later, my pup Greta goes into heat. Talk about a weird coincidence!
I had planned to breed Greta at this heat, but with Shubi’s illness and Hubby’s operation I decided to put it off until next fall. In many ways it’s a good thing. I can take a little more time and find just the right mate for her.
Feeling the need for some warm comfort food, I started a pot of split pea soup last night. The peas cooked all night long in the crock pot, and then this morning I was able to blend them and add the carrots and potatoes. When I feel down or blue, warm creamy soups make me feel better. The recipe is below.