Dear Readers, I have spent some time on my own blog tonight trying to find some photos from a post.
I can't find it.
It wasn't the type-writer picture I was looking for either. I stuck the old thing on this post because it was one of the first pictures I uploaded.
The reason why "pro-bloggers" are called 'Pros" in the first place- is because they stopped and figured out how to blog. Read up on how to make the pictures look better. Took some classes or seminars in photography and this sort of thing.
So they can easily find a picture if they wanted to show it to someone. They have all their posts indexed, highlighted, easy to find if inclined to, linked up to other sites, hash grammed, and photo shopped-
not mine.
Why not? I am asking myself as I noticed the exact date that I had some concussions as I flipped through the list of posts like an old rolodex. I can see when I was "taken out of the game" for a time with an infection. Or when one cleared up.
I know the time period when J. and I either walked or road bikes all over the place and how it about killed me and he has no recollection of how hard we worked to do some things.
In fact he even said the other day: "This is the first time that I have been really passionate about something."
ME: "Are you kidding me?" (this is a place where I wish I could link you to all the past posts on us working to earn money for flag football, pads and cleats, basketball shoes, camps, and clinics, gas money, baseball bats.
But then I recall that I also forgot how horrible child birth can be for some people and that they forget how horrible it can be and I forgave his shortened memory.
So as I flipped through all these pictures and reminded myself that at one time a person in my church who is someone I would have loved to have been friends with but she lives too far away. (five blocks away in a different section of the neighborhood.) And I got sick enough that I couldn't walk that five blocks anymore.
It literally became "too far away." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I took her advice and it has been a good thing.
Yes, this blog has been a haphazrd attempt to put my writing out there because I felt like I wanted to document as much as possible because
I didn't know what would happen.
With my body. With a disease.
Now I know what happened.
I pretty much went through time; looked at how much my son has grown physically.
I saw how this was my outlet, my way of reaching out to the world when I couldn't get out there any longer. I saw the ebb and flow of my energy all partly due to prednisone.
I won
When I see my hands, my feet from some dumb shot I had taken of them after working in the garden tears came freely. It was so hard to "do" those gardens. But, thanks to prednisone, I did them. I had that energy. And then it bottomed out.
Finding the picture of me and J. next to Bob's red bi-plane was................ a million things. So many thoughts ran through my mind that night. Of what was ahead. It was going to get dark. And it did, Readers. And it is, Readers.
I remember the losses along the way. The losses before I started this thing- this Blog. When I first heard about blogs I scoffed. 'Oh, brother. Another social media dealio..' Then look- I became a blogger.
I don't know why. Maybe it was all the scratch paper I'd write some tid-bit on. Or feelings. Or because I have several journals going at the same time. I am one of millions of people who pass through life. I wonder how many sit down to read about others' lives?
Whether anyone comes across mine or not I am glad I documented all of this how I did. It is my story.
In fact a lot of what I do as someone who is home bound makes me stop and wonder if it matters.
Readers, my evening consisted of writing reviews for Amazon, in the hopes of helping someone pick out the best Cavi- Wipes, whether or not to size up or down when buying Haflinger slippers- all the while as my folks watch Downtown Abbey. (Padre would never have gotten into it were it not for having surgery on his shoulder.
I provided the call to Pizza Hut for J. and his friend for a late night hang out. Then made sure to show them how to clean up afterward. Padre Protocol is supper up to the table. But on this occassion he was calmed by me putting down a blanket and Madre putting a plastic table cloth on top of that.
Protect the carpet. Padre said something about there being some buildings having rules about where ya eat... blah, blah.
I took my meds to help my stomach, esophagus, and such from being burned to death from this disease. I drank enough water to make sure I stayed hydrated which happens a lot even when you wouldn't suspect it.
The other day I was able to manage to help a bit when a friend came to help clean. I showed J. what I meant when I said I wanted him to "Deep Dust." (i.e. don't just take the feather duster over the objects, but move the objects and
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Tapering 1 mg is hard.
I hate it.
I was in a bad mood right around 11.
Barely pulled myself up to take my reduced amount of prednisone this morning. It's noon. J. slept til 10 and asked If I wanted to take him up to snowboard. (let out a very long sigh.)
When I finally got moving I made it to the loo-- knock. knock.
ME: "Yeee-ehhhsss!"
J: "Good news! I called up to Kelly Canyon and it's not icy like the other night but is just the 'crud'."
Me: "The CRUD?" this term seemed to fall in the negative of ideal ski/boarding weather.
J: "Yeh, it's kinda like what is on skier's lane, you know, the smooshed up snow. Packed a bit then sugary.
ME: "Oohhhhh, yeh,
J: "So can you take me?"
ME: 'Oh, crud. We'll see."
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J. made it up to try out snow boarding. On a real mountain. He said he fell.
And then he said: "I am falling for it!" Again.
ME: "I heard ya say the first time, that ya fell. Ouch.!"
J:" No, I am falling for it as in LIKING it."
ME: "Oh, dear."
He apparently doesn't recall loving it a
Long Time Ago.......
My heart fell into my wool, well arched slippers. What about all your good equipment.
"I am going to do both! I have it all planned! Board at Kelly's and Ski Targhee!"
Kids are so funny at this age.
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