TV Wars

My computer has been in the shop for two weeks. There may be some technical term I should use instead of "in the shop" when discussing computers but I am not aware of it. At any rate, I am sitting on the couch with my husband while he watches some sort of American Pawn Storage Auction Picker Wars show, as he is frequently inclined. This is usually my cue to retreat to the office and play with the computer. Since that's not an option, I'm still on the couch with my nook color, typing a post with one finger. So this won't be long. There are a lot of things I don't understand about these shows. The appeal of buying and selling junk. Driving across the country trying to make a $20 profit on a rusty doorknob. Why these shows are on the History Channel. Why this man, having barns piled to the rafters with questionable treasures, is being affirmed for his life choices while his cosmic twin on TLC is the focus of a hoarding intervention. "That guy is on the wrong show," I helpfully point out to Jack. We both miss the computer.

Something Old

About twenty years ago, I bought a treadle sewing machine for $25 because I thought it looked cool, and I liked old things. I managed to unfreeze it and fit it with a belt so it turned. But I didn't know how to find the correct presser foot or needle, so it remained a quaint plant stand for a while. After some time I discovered that the Internet was a thing, and there were all sorts of crazy sewing machine enthusiasts in the world. I started doing a little research with my treadle in mind, but soon fell into the abyss of vintage sewing machines in general. The treadle waited. In my quest for knowledge and more Singers, I stumbled across the missing foot and needles, but never put all the pieces together.

Until this January. In the process of organizing my sewing room, I reintroduced the old girl, a Singer 9W, to her missing parts and some oil. I found a threading diagram and gave it a shot. In her shock, she produced about half an inch of confused bobbin tension, then collected herself and sewed a beautiful seam with no adjustment needed. "It's about time," she said. I have no idea how long she sat idle before I bought her, but she was always ready to do what she was made for, and do it very well. That's why I love old machines.

Dad

My Dad passed away December 23, 2010 at 3:56 in the morning.

Dad had an iliac aneurysm rupture on December 7th. It was remarkable, if not miraculous, that he lived long enough for the ambulance to get to the house, beside the 25 mile trip to the hospital, and a helicopter ride to Rochester. The surgeon repaired the ruptured aneurysm, as well as an abdominal aortic aneurysm we had known about for some time. I raced home and was so relieved; his recovery was amazing. Six days later he was discharged to a nursing home to get stronger before returning home. My sister-in-law is a nurse there, and we were happy to have him closer to home with family keeping an eye on him.

After being transferred, Dad felt worse. Despite being very independent and as active as possible, he had multiple health problems for years - bad heart, bad lungs, constant pain from shingles over 2 years ago. On the morning of the 21st, he decided he was going to "cross Jordan today." I hurried back across the state again, afraid I wouldn't make it in time, but I did. In fact we were able to spend another day and a half with him. He talked, joked, prayed, slept. He told us, "Never give up on God." He was lucid most of the time, not always. He said his pain was gone, and he was breathing better than he had in years. Thursday morning the breaths just started coming farther apart. We were with him when he went home.

I have a lot of stories about things that happened in those last few days that demonstrated God's faithfulness and love, to Dad and to the rest of us. But they're too hard to go into right now, and some of them sound downright crazy. I will settle for saying a couple things I know for sure. I had a wonderful Dad. He always spent time with us, played with us, was interested in our lives, told us he loved us. Now he is home. I miss him so much, but I will see him again.

Cooking with Sandy

Did you know that if you try to steam vegetables and forget to put in the water it smells very bad?

I used to be smarter.

Bees

I guess the nice part of fall is over. I always eye the beautiful foliage with a little suspicion, because I know winter is coming, and I'm a glass-half-empty sort of girl. The gorgeous sunny days lasted for a long time this year, but today it is windy, rainy, crappy. Last night we took all the plants and furniture off the deck in preparation for the wind that was predicted. We had taken the umbrella down before a storm weeks ago and just laid it on the deck. Now I carried it into the garage, and with it a swarm of bees who had decided to winter over there, I suppose. Our fault for leaving things lying around! I will never be arrested for neatness. We took the umbrella and its cold, sluggish tenants back outside, sprayed it with harmful chemicals and shoved it under a bench so it won't blow away. We'll deal with it again in a day or two....

Here's something to look forward to in November: the day after election day! No more commercials; no more phone calls. Does anyone ever really decide who to vote for based on an annoying recorded phone call or a biased, fear-mongering TV ad? Both parties are guilty. I know political campaigns have always been negative, but I wish they would give us a little credit for having some brains. So on November 2 I will happily exercise my right and responsibility, and the winners and losers will shut up for a while.

I am feeling sorry for the poor bees.

Slowly crawling out of my mood

It's wonderful what a day or two can do. Got home to see my parents this weekend. We practiced our new golf swings a bit and it was... okay. So things are looking up. I attended my 30 year class reunion. I am that old. My husband got to meet the small town high school crowd for the first time, an excellent cultural experience. I was dreading my Monday, but things worked out fairly well and now I am looking forward to my day off. I am trying to plan in my little brain how to make time for the things I really enjoy. A little knitting, journaling, golf practice, a walk. Things that calm me, that aren't cookies. I'm hoping if I give myself little happy breaks in the day I can minimize the meltdowns.

The honeymoon's over...

Not in my marriage. It's the golf. Got my new clubs Saturday and we took in 9 holes to try them out. It was horrible. Jack assures me that it will take time to get used to them and all the new tips I got last week. I guess that makes sense. But as usual, he just refuses to see the full extent of my hopelessness. Oh well. We had our lesson Wednesday night, and that was very helpful. I learned some more new things that worked very well, and I'm sure it will again all fall apart the next time we go to the range.

Welcome to my fall! I am vitamin D deficient, like the rest of Wisconsin, and the doc put me on a prescription supplement. It seemed to give me a little more energy, and I thought it would get me through the fall and winter with less pessimism. But it seems pessimism is what I do best. I feel overwhelmed and inadequate at work. But last year when I was laid off I felt overwhelmed and inadequate because I wasn't making any money. So there is just no pleasing me. So is it seasonal affective disorder, perimenopause, deep insecurity or just whining? I suspect a big dose of all the above.