Where is my watch?

As I grow older and experience more of life, the good and the not so good, my appreciation and admiration of my mother grow.  She graduated with her M.D. from the University of Illinois College of Medicine in 1943.  She was one of eight women in her class and, as Class Secretary, the only officer who wasn't a man.  She was Marie Anne Smith, called Ma Smith by her classmates.  She was a brilliant and driven pioneer. Ma Smith became Doctor Kelly when she married my father.  She was 38; he was 43.  She wanted children.  I don't know how much my father wanted us, but he went along with her plan.  My father's father committed suicide at a very young age, and although Papa (we had to call him Papa because he hated the sound of Daddy) was only 6 years old, he became the man of his little family.  Papa never wanted to talk about his life...it was horrific on many levels.  He took care of his mother, my Nana, until she died.  Nana was part...

Eighteen days ago I had surgery for osteoarthritis in my right hand.  The osteoarthritis was painful, but the surgery and recovery seem to be much worse.  The surgeon gave me a prescription for fifty-six pills of Oxycodone.  When we picked up the prescription, I said, "Fifty-six!!!!  This will last years!!!"  Ha,ha, WRONG!!!  My pills are just about gone; I feel compelled to add that the dosage was quite low and the instructions were to take 1 to 2 tablets every 4 to 6 hours for pain.  If you divide 56 pills by 18 days, you get 3.1 pills per day (just doing that math makes me want a pill).   The pain those first few days was rough; it would awaken me in the middle of the night.  I guess I am a wuss.  Worse, much worse, than the pain is the realization that I am pretty much helpless without my right hand...and I'm left-handed.  We don't think about all the everyday chores that require two hands.  For example, I have stopp...

I never realized how important our thumbs are until I temporarily lost the use of one of them.  Thumbs are vital!  Think about it; if we didn't have thumbs, how could we text each?  How could we hold our eating utensils?   Horrifying!  About seven years ago, I noticed that the joint at the bottom of my right thumb had grown a huge bump; it was a bone spur.  It wasn't particularly painful, just ugly and deformed.  I went to a hand surgeon.  At his office, an x-ray confirmed that I had osteoarthritis.  Weird, especially since I am left-handed, and, at that point, I was still sort of young.  I asked the doctor about treatment.  "There's surgery, but we can try a cortisone shot and see if that helps," he said.  I asked if the shot would hurt.  "It won't hurt me," he replied.  Ha ha, what a smart ass. The damned shot hurt like hell, and the thumb lump laughed at its impotence.  So, surgery; I trusted this ...

In my previous post, I discussed my plans for Dry January.  I was successful in avoiding alcohol until Friday, January 24, the first day of our Mother/Daughter Weekend.  The four of us were staying in a lovely resort that had a good selection of restaurants on site.  On Friday afternoon, we enjoyed lunch at a low key place that had an enticing selection of cocktails.  So, yes, after more than three alcohol free weeks, I had a drink.  It wasn't a really strong drink; it was one of those froufrou cocktails with more mixers than booze...but, it was good!   After lunch, we went back to our room to catch up on everything.  We hadn't been together for a few years, so there was a lot to discuss.  Eventually, it was time to explore, so off we went to another bar/restaurant.   Unlike our lunch place, this was definitely more bar than restaurant.  Fine by me!  As I've written in a previous blog, I LOVE bars.  They remind me o...

Sometimes I worry that I consume more alcohol than I should.  As I have mentioned before in my blog, there is a lot of alcoholism in my family.  So, I worry.  Worrying is one thing; doing something about one's concerns is another. I decided to try this Dry January thing.  It was much easier than I expected.  Part of that is because I am nowhere near as stressed or busy as I was before I retired.  When I was working, there were days when I would call my husband on the way home from work and warn him that I needed a martini stat when I got home.   When I told my daughter about Dry January, she said, "But Mom, MOTHER/DAUGHTER WEEKEND!!!!!   Just like that:   MOTHER/DAUGHTER WEEKEND!!!!!   Yes, we had been planning a Mother/Daughter weekend with our dear friends from Maryland and we had decided that January 24 through 27 would work for all of us.  My daughter seemed genuinely horrified that I was planning to stay sober....

I admit that I don't understand every nuance of football.  I don't know how my husband spots all those penalties before the referee announces them; I don't get why these guys are paid millions of dollars even though they don't last through the first game of the season (sorry, Nick Foles); and, aren't those skin tight pants uncomfortable? Don't even get me started on the mysteries of jock straps (I  really  don't  want to know...blech!). My parents were both football fans.  My father grew up in Pittsburgh, so he was loyal to the Steelers.  My mother supported the Eagles because we lived in the Philadelphia area.  She loved the kickoff, and got really upset if she missed it.  I remember my parents watching football on television as they drank their martinis (gin and extra dry vermouth with olives or cocktail onions) and/or Manhattans (bourbon and sweet red vermouth with maraschino cherries).  Apparently, watching football games requires ...

I am guilty of envy.  I envy people around me.  I envy their homes, their relationships, their intelligence, their youth, their good looks, their accomplishments, their...well, you get it.  It's a problem. Both of my children tell me at least some of the truth about my faults, maybe not all of my faults, but the obvious and troubling ones.  They have noticed my tendency to envy others.  While this stuff can be tough to hear, I am glad that they feel they can be honest with me.  God knows I would never say anything like that to my mother!!!  Dire consequences would ensue, people would suffer.  Nope.  I went through a phase where I really wanted a gazebo in my back yard.  Why?  Because somebody else had one.  Do I need a gazebo?  No.  My back yard is lovely and calming.  It is full of birds, bird baths, bird feeders, the occasional raccoon, stray cat, and lots of armadillos.  It brings me great joy....