Thursday, June 16, 2011

Happy Birthday to Me

The day we all celebrate, the day of my birth has arrived.  I expected the following events to occur.
  1. My spouse would shower me with unexpected and extravagent gifts for which I would weep and declare him to be husband of the century.
  2. My children would shower me with unexpected and extravagent gifts for which I would weep and declare them to be the best children in the world.
What did occur was somewhat different.
  1. I mowed the lawn.
  2. I shaved the dogs.
  3. The power in the office which runs the computer is sketchy and the breaker flips and when I reset it, it hisses at me.  Sweet.
  4. I made my own cake...again
Alas as the "Stones" said, "You don't always get what you want."  Damn them.

While I am far far far from my 21st birthday I do remember it well.  I was living in Chico at the time.  During those years, a long time ago never mind how long ago, Chico State had the highest beer consumption rate per capita of any school in Californina.  A dubious honor perhaps, but nevertheless worth mentioning.  At any rate my boyfriend and his best friend and I planned a raucous good time in Old Sacramento to celebrate the 21st birthday.  So we hopped in to a car and drove the two hours south.  We had planned to stop at every bar along the way, but that was shortened to the bar on the way due to poor navigational skills.  Sooner or later we arrived in Sacramento and had a refreshing dip in the boy friends parents pool, then we gussied up and took off for our evening of debauchery.  First stop...The Elegant Barn for din din.  Whilst we were waiting at the bar a rat about the size of a llama went darting across the back of the bar.  Nobody but we three took any notice of it.  Sketch.  So then we treated ourselves to a mammoth meal of  meat and all the stuff and dessert which was probably mud pie.  That should give some of you an idea of the vintage we are talking about here.  Then it was off to Fannie Anne's in Old Sacramento.  In those days it was considered de rigueur to go to Fannie Anne's on your 21st birthday.  Here is why.  We walked in and I presented my real drivers license, for the first time ever, the little man checked it out, did math and then all these lights and sirens and bells and all holy hell cut loose and a frothing flagon of Harvey Wallbanger was thrust in to my hands and the downward spiral began with more and more free drinks all night long.  Except for one thing.  Remember the heavy meal etc. we'd had earlier?  Yeah, couldn't get drunk, barely even had a buzz going on.  Somewhat anti-climatic wouldn't you say?  Over the years I have more than made up for that, but I still remember sobriety on my 21st whoopdedoo.  Cheers.

I know you will be relieved to know that next week Squidgy goes back to the scene of the crime, or rather the little accident for a respite of 5-6 days.  You will also be happy to hear that "Killer" will also be there.  The mangy dogs, on the other hand, will not be there.  I am expecting to have an accident free visit in Petaluma.  And I expect good wishes and thoughts from all ya'll.  My friends are taking themselves off to Oregon for a fabulous time with the horses they are taking along.  My little horse show mom will also be going to Oregon for the show.  I will have no friends in the vicinity.  sniff.  I will have to catch up on "Women Behind Bars" on the tee vee and perhaps watch a movie or two.  Riveting.

The middle daughter, who says I never mention her in the blog, and I went up the hill to watch the only grand daughter do her ballet the other day.  Sadly the father parent took little ballerina and her brother to soccer camp first, then stopped at 7-11 for a giant pink frosted doughnut with the sprinkles before dance class.  There was an immediate and unsatisfactory response to exhaustion and sugar which befell the prima ballerina.  And it manifested itself in severe attention deficit, and inability to hear and act in a synchronized fashion.  Bless her little heart.  You know how you always feel sorry for the kid who's just not with it in class?  Yeah that was our little ballerina and yes, I have it on video and yes, I will save it forever.

Back to the daughter who says I never mention her.  That would be Lindsey and she is the middle child.  Really.  When she and her older sister were little tykes we read Tikki Tikki Tembo all the time.  Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo was the name of the eldest child in the story and the name meant "The most wonderful thing in the world".  He had a little brother who was named Chang, which meant "Little or Nothing".  Lindsey was our Chang.  Except she wasn't.  She has always been vibrant, vivacious, extravagent and outrageous.  Hardly a Chang at all.  I remember her teachers comments were always "Talks too much."  "Needs to pay attention and stop talking."  "Lindsey talks in class when she should be doing her lessons."  1-12 same thing.  Then she reached the teens and be-tweens and she and her little covy of besties would be in constant trouble.  Just high jinx, but it went on all the time.  She was all "Momma, why do I always get caught?"  and I was all "Lindsey, you are scarcely a shrinking violet, you will always get caught because you are vivacious, extravagent and outrageous."  My little angel.

Our little Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo, The most wonderful thing in the world is having a baby.  And it is a boy.  His name will be Sam.  I like that and he will be a cowboy.  The blessed event is expected in early October so I have informed the spouse that we should drive to Loving, New Mexico for the birth.  I think I have him convinced that that would be a great adventure because while we're out there we can go to Roswell, NM and investigate the aliens.  The things I have to do to get that man out of the house.  Merciful Heavens as my granny used to say.  I haven't had a positive answer from him yet.

I have also requested a trip to England in September for our, wait for it, 14th anniversary.  This would be memorable in any case, but epic when you consider I was married to the starter spouse for 18 years.  But anyway, I want to go to Burghley for the horse trials held 1-5 of September and as it happens our anniversary is the 3rd and don't you think that would be a wonderful trip?  And don't  you think it makes up for me having to make my own birthday cake today?  If you would like to add your encouragement to him I will supply you with his phone numbers and email addresses on request.  I think that ought to do it, don't you?

Some time ago I told you I would relate my first experience with an injury that required real medical attention.  And I was moaning that we had Kaiser and all that.  My recent experience with Kaiser was positive beyond my wildest expectations.  If you have to go to the hospital and be a guest, Kaiser wins hands down for care, information, attention, medical prowess and receives an A+ in everything but meals.  But lets go back my injury last year when I fell off the motorcycle.  I'd gone down to Temecula with my bestie Kristi for a horse show.  On cross country day I followed Kristi around the course on a little motorcycle and in my exuberence to be at the finish line for her I may have been traveling a wee bit too fast so that when the front tires got caught in a rut in the road and I put my leg out it and it spun around and tore all kinds of goodies in my knee.  I had a pretty good idea what I'd done when I tried to stand up and immediately fell down.  I also had an owie on my elbow.  boo hoo.  So I got my friend Dan to take me to urgent care, if ever there was a misnomer, that was it I tell ya.  Anyway that made me wait the requisite hours, x-rayed my knee said it wasn't broken, ignored my elbow and sent me on my way.  In the meantime my knee was swollen to 10 time the normal size.  I finally got home the next day, and the following day I went to my primary care doc @ Kaiser and she was out, but I saw someone else who said it was probably just a strain, but gave me antiseptic for my elbow and sent me on my way.  Then  went to New Mexico for my daughters wedding and while I was there I fell down a few times, had some accupuncture, which was great and leaned on my son in law on my trip down the aisle as mother of the bride.  Came home again and called my doc again and she was in and saw me and said that it was probably just a strain, but to wear this leg brace for a couple weeks, and if you're going to be a cry baby then go over to Sacramento for physical therapy.  OK then.  I made an appointment for PT and they did the ice thing to my leg and thought perhaps, just for grins, I should make an appointment with an orthopedic physicians assistant.  So I did.  The PA said he figured I just strained my knee, but for giggles did an MRI and a Cat Scan and said he'd call me the following week.  I was feeling just a little haggard, firstly cause the damn thing hurt and I kept falling down, but also because it seemed no one wanted to believe me.  I had torn the ACL and the meniscus on the other leg several years previously so I had some experience with the symptoms.  Anyway, the PA called the next day and he was all in a dither and said, "my, my, my, you really did a number on your knee.  You've shredded your ACL, your meniscus and you've fractured the top of your tibia."  I said, "it's not a strain then?"  Never miss an opportunity to be a bitch dear reader.  So then I got to make another orthopedic appointment, but with a surgeon this time.  OooooohAwww.  So this hayseed comes in to the exam room after making me wait 20 minutes, looks at me, and says "So we won't be doing surgery on you, you're too old."  To which I replied, "We most certainly are doing surgery, I can't go the rest of my life falling down!"  To which he snipped back, "Well you're a little rude, aren't you?"  Then it went downhill.  I stormed/hobbled off complained in writing and verbally to everyone who mattered and badgered my Primary Care Doc to refer another surgeon and on it went.  Eventually I met Dr. Reed, who said surgery was an option and then we discussed nail polish colors for the event and all was righteous.  He has turned out to be a really great guy and we have snarky conversations about the first doctor of doom and talk about horses and all that.  He's taking a screw out of my knee in a couple weeks and I have complete confidence all will be grand and I've requested the same Russian anesthesiologist because he too was amusing.  You do have to work the system, but I'm a Kaiser believer.
Cheers ya'll,

Monday, June 6, 2011

Life in the Fast Lane

What's new?   13th letter of the Greek alphabet.  Hysterical old fraternity joke of starter husbands band-o-brothers.  Getting a very shaky start here.

So the daughter of Steve has appeared from her first year of college for a summer respite with her pappy and yours truly.  She is going to move to North Carolina to go to a chi chi private liberal arts college in Asheville in the fall.  In the mean time she will be hunkering down in the dirt and what not, toiling at an organic vegetable farm for some dinero.  The Spanish reference here is intentional.  But what it means in real life is we get healthy stuff to eat for the next eight weeks.  Except for beets, they are the liver and brains of the vegetable world.  I don't care what you say.  That's my final word on the subject.

Along with her sweet self, the daughter brought many bags, boxes, suitcases and sacks of stuff.  She has a room the size of a cardboard box and I've already taken control of half the closet.  First come first served and all that.  Anyway she's spent several hours pouring through the detritus deciding what she can't possibly live without for eight weeks and what can be shipped off to North Carolina to the welcoming arms of her Mammy.  Naturally this gives me ample opportunity to offer my valuable insight.  I am quite happy to point out that you shouldn't even think about saving anything you haven't touched for a year.  Plus noting that some of those things she covets were used to begin with, and besides the obvious..."what were you thinking" there's also the "I can't believe that was ever cute."  I am well on my way to making myself an indispensable asset to her life and style.

The spouse and I went to the middle daughters house for dinner the other night.  This is the first time I've seen the son-in-law since my little accident.  He was in last place for favorite until he fed me.  He's hovering somewhere between a high two, close to one right now.  Besides he tells a mean joke.  And he likes my cooking, which is what I helped out with, personally overseeing a yummy seat of the pants sauce for the ham and putting my own special touch on the potatoes avec cheese and onions and other secret stuff.  Sadly the spouse dragged me off before we tucked in to the box of See's that was sitting on the counter.  I'm just not over that yet, nor do I intend to be.

Fully exhausted from that outing I slept all the next morning arising at 1:00p in time for Steve to say adieu and take himself off to the land of the doomed he calls work.  You see there was a biker party at the fairgrounds that night and Stevie had to be the chaperon, so to speak.  Not just any bikers, I believe the term "Black Hell's Angels" was used as an adjective.  Swell.  So I guess everything went on just fine till the ho's in the bat-room got to getting and started a little riot.  Girl fights are the stuff that dread, fear and loathing come from.  It also involves the po-leece.  You'll be relieved to discover that my beloved was safe in his office till the Calvary arrived and he could venture forth and add his two cents worth to the mayhem.  Because, the bat-room riot then became a whole sale free for all what with the gentlemen bikers taking advantage of the distractions and hopping over the various bars and grabbing the demon alcohol.  What a life my beloved has.  Mercifully I was unaware of any of these shenanigans being safely at home with the Norco and the dogs and the tee vee.  Bliss.

I wish I hadn't thought about the See's, cause now that's all I can think about.  I've discovered, belatedly, that you are not a prisoner of what Grandma See's thinks should be in a box of candy.  No, no, you can select individually all those tasty tidbits that only you like for your box of candy.  I recommend 2# boxes to save your self wear and tear getting over to the store and like that more than once a day.  My selections always include Bordeaux, the ones with the brown sugar goodness in the middle, and I admit it, the raspberry cremes, the English Toffee, the Molasses Chips, and I could go on, but I'm drooling.  Pretty visual isn't it?  And yes, I had to give up my gym membership temporarily, due to breakage, but I shall start up again, maybe next week and I have plenty to work off.  sigh.

Believe it or not, several days have gone by, I severely edited what I'd blathered on about.  What you read above is edited.  Frightening.

I had a most entertaining weak end.  It started by meeting the horse show mom/snow bound mom/she of the narcotic cocktails in Sonoma in the pouring rain to go house hunting.  We found a cute place and to my mind that should be the end of that.  Alas, I suspect we will venturing forth on more adventures in home buying, but it's all good, cause it's like spending someone else's money, which is v. good right now. 

Since we are in  California where everything is over priced, we asked about the vacant lot next to the house and property we were looking at.  Now this place is reasonably priced for what ever reason, so we thought why not jump in immediately and increase the holding?  So on a busy road, 8 acres with nada on it and a perk test for only a three bed room house?  1. something million.  Wonder why it's been on the market for a century or so? 

Anyway from house hunting to Mani-Pedi's.  Of course to my mind it's always better to have your feeties in a steamy foot bath with a steamy cocktail in your hand, but Starbucks had to do, and it did quite nicely.  From the salon to the Casa Blanca where Muffie lives.  I was quite happy to let her trundle off to clean stalls and muck about whilst I busied myself in the kitchen creating cocktails.  Having imbibed the creations we then, happily buzzed, ventured off once again to whine taste.  Quite a day right? 

We also got to meet up with the children of the horse show mom later on and sit around and make fun of what Dim Sum really looks like.  I am quite happy to go to the third and sixth grade level when it comes to making assessments about stuff.  Dim Sum can get quite entertaining.  By then it was waaaaaaaaay too late to go back to Vacaville, so we all snuggled up in the big bed at Casa Blanca and settled in with the Face Book and what not.  Just like a slumber party.  You are NEVER to old for that.  promise.

Ever living on the edge, tonight I shall attend the graduation of grandson Garrett who is matriculating from sixth grade.  Do I have to buy him a car?  These things can get so confusing.  Anyway I love Garrett.  He is a very happy little man and he cracks me up.  He took a big dive off his dirt bike the other day so we were able to compare scars and what not.  He plays baseball and the trumpet.  Truly an inspiration, except that unfortunate infatuation with guns, so I try to always try to stay on his good side.

My daughter, who is expecting in October, has discovered she is having a boy baby.  This is good because I was deciding to be somewhat miffed that she had changed the middle name of a girl baby so it no longer payed homage to her mammy.  Remember, no one will ever love you as much as your real mother Alison.  Just remember.  Anyway we have a new baby to look forward to in a few short months.  I shall venture in to New Mexico cowboy country for the blessed event.  And to subject the new parents to a clear picture of what child rearing is really about.  And like that.  I can't wait.

So happy reader, I'll sign off for now.  You're welcome.