I'm blogstipated

I don't post often enough so when I finally sit down to write, there's so much to say it gets too long and I forget some of what I wanted to say. And other problems, but I forgot them just now.

Last week Twitch was transferred back to the Greenwood store (Arby's) so we no longer have to make that long drive to Simpsonville. What a relief! I actually like the drive sometimes, but not when it's so hot, and not four times a day. So now I'm glad he didn't get an apartment there.

Diva is a hot mess, as usual. She got this internship thing at a hair salon, then never went. She's being her old crazy self again, and not being nice to me very often. I don't want to talk about it.

Let's see... Sproing. He's an ass. Hangs around the house most of the day with his friends, playing video games and talking shit. He tells me he has a lead on one job or another nearly every day, but nothing ever becomes of it. Yes, he's taking advantage of me. Again. Still.

Light's birthday is Friday. She'll be 26. She's been in my dreams recently, but as a small child. Sometimes she's under 2 years old, sometimes she's pre-teen. Sometimes my other children are in the dreams too. She was such a lovely child. I miss that.

Superman and I were in Target yesterday and saw some cute dresses for little girls. I like the idea of sweet little girls, ages approximately 3-7, but the reality can be gritty. I know from experience. Maybe I'm ready for grandparenthood. Thing is, none of my children is ready for parenthood, so let's just skip it for now.

Here's the segue to the next topic:

Sproing hangs out in the living room most of the day. Whenever I go through there I get a pang of melancholy or something in the middle of my chest. Melancholy doesn't really begin to describe it. It's sadder and more anxious than my concept of melancholy. Whatever, it isn't pretty. This ball of burning lead in my chest saps my motivation right out of me.

I've said before that I am a hoarder. I want to clear out a lot of this junk in my life, but there is a strong emotional component to this mess. I'm a mess. For months I've been staring at these shelves in my bedroom. Just those two over there, not that big bookshelf on that side of the room. No, not that one up there either. Let's for a moment ignore the one(s) behind me. Just these two little (OK, not so little) shelves on top of my two drawer filing cabinet. (Now I want to create a diversion by telling you how wonderful my filing cabinet is, but that's just an unhealthy coping strategy, so let's not go there.) So this morning, feeling like accomplishing something, I started on the first cubby. (The unit has four cubbies, two small and two large. And the top of the shelf. And all that crap in front of it.) I got everything except the really big unabridged dictionary cleaned out! I even threw some of it away! Go me! But OMG I'm now approaching a nervous anxiety attack. Walking through the living room made it worse. I'm hydrating, and I had a V-8, hoping vegetables will help my body deal. I can write coherent sentences (I think) so it could be worse. It could also be a lot better.

Papers from my college art classes were in that cubby. Some sketch books, some notes and communications from the class. I took those classes only about five years ago. It seems like a long time now. There was a note from my professor encouraging me to continue my art education because he sees a lot of promise/potential. All the gods have mercy upon me!! I want to! So much! I remember I cried when I first got that note from him, and I cried again when I read it today. I'm currently helpless, (well, probably not completely) hopelessly entangled in the trappings of my life, unable to exercise my creativity.

Actually, one of the things I want to do today is sew. I have a new dress completely cut out and ready to sew together. I've started sewing a shirt and want to get back to it. But do you know how close my sewing room/office is to the living room where the "chaps" are hanging? I can't go there. Gads, I feel so helpless and weak and stupid.

In other, lighter news, I broke a tooth over the weekend. For those of you keeping score at home, it's the bottom right, third tooth from the end. I have no wisdom teeth anymore, so don't count that. A piece of the tooth sheared off the side between the teeth. It's stuck between the teeth now, and shifts around when I chew on that side. Feels really strange. I broke it while eating cornbread. Soft, fluffy, oh so good cornbread. Or at least that's when I noticed it. I was also eating soup. Soup with nothing hard in it. I have no idea how it broke. I suspect there's a filling in that tooth and it popped off beside the filling. Thankfully it doesn't hurt. I have an appointment with my dentist tomorrow midday.

This is about all I have the emotional energy to write right now. Have a good July.

This is pretty

Contemporary Duvet Covers And Duvet Sets by Denver Furniture & Accessories DENY Designs

There is a lot to say, but I'm not going to go into all of it now.

Diva is doing well. She's working at the Voc Rehab training center and just got an internship at a hair salon.

Twitch is a manager trainee at Arby's, now working in Simpsonville, SC but still living at home. No car, no drivers license. Which means I'm still driving him an hour one way to work and back. Four hours a day in my non-air-conditioned truck. I'm getting a driver's tan - just the left arm and left side of my face. Reminds me of the old bus driving days. Twitch is supposed to be looking for housing close to work. He has a couple of contacts, but things are going slow.

Sproing is a pain in my ass. In my last post (a long time ago) I told you about him stealing Superman's debit card and going on a Wal-Mart spending spree. Since then we discovered he's been using one of Superman's credit cards to order things from Amazon. All tolled he's stolen about $900. Yes, we filed a complaint with law enforcement. He goes to trial (or whatever it is) on the 5th of August. Or perhaps he'll just go back to kiddie jail. We saw his DJJ probation officer last week. She gave him 20 hours of community service. She also said he's on her short list. If he steps out of line again she's sending him back before the family court judge who will likely put him back in kiddie jail for a while. We shall see.

Mostly, when not driving back and forth to Simpsonville, I have been binge watching back seasons of Criminal Minds on Netflix. Love Netflix!

The continuing saga

My Braves haven't been playing so well recently. I had to turn the game off in the seventh inning last night because it got too pathetic. It's the top of the first inning and their opponents (Cincinnati Reds tonight) just scored two runs. I know my boys can do better than this. But enough about baseball.

I had some COFFEE this Afternoon!! With CAFFEINE! WEEEEEEEEE!!!

Twitch has been transferred to the store in Simpsonville (Arby's). It's an hour away. He has no car, no drivers license. He's got the learners permit, and has been driving Superman's truck with me in the shotgun position. I actually enjoy the drive, or have come to feel that way about it this week. I like it better when I drive. He's not too bad at driving, but he's new and nervous, and I like being behind the wheel when I'm in the car, you know? Today we took my truck, which is a piece of shit with a manual transmission which Twitch doesn't know how to drive. I like my truck better. The thing is, it takes an hour one way to get to Simpsonville and uses a bunch of gas. I drive back home, only to go back to get him six to eight hours later. That's a LOT of gas. Which costs a lot of money. He's helping with the expense, but not as much as all of it. I'm trying to get him to save so he can secure housing in that area. I've spent four hours on the road every day this week. I have mixed feelings about this.

The poor guy (Twitch) had to work ten hours today. I got there an hour before he got off, not realizing he would work that late. It all worked out well, though, because I'm easy that way. I needed some new shoes anyway and hadn't yet found a chance to shop. There's a shoe store half a mile up the road from Twitch's shop, so I wandered up there and had my favorite kind of shoe shopping experience. This is a representation of what I bought.

(One beer down) I asked the nice sales associate lady for those old fashion ugly Crocs. She said they only had that style in mens, which is fine by me. She showed me what they had, three different colors/styles. The camo print was an easy elimination. The other shoe was brown with a leather (or leather look) patch on the top of the upper. It was $15 more than the black ones. Though they had the brown in a size 7 (my size in mens shoes) and the smallest size black was an 8. I tried them both on, and went with the 8. Crocs are supposed to be kinda loose anyway, right? And it has that strap thing on the back that helps keep the shoe on. So it's all good. I told the friendly sales lady that ugly and old fashioned was kinda my style. You know, I'm so fashion backward. So I got a pair of shoes I like for less than $35 and took less than ten minutes to complete the entire shoe shopping experience. Yeah, that's how I like to shop. I feel good! (The caffeine and beer help. 'Bout to start on my second beer, so watch out!) 

After the wonderful shoe shopping experience I stopped by Starbucks. I don't think I've been inside a Starbucks in at least two years. I got myself a short "tall" black coffee, then went back to the Arby's where I bought the last chocolate turnover. Man, those Arby's folks have the best turnovers, and the chocolate is extraordinary. Been wanting one of those for a while now. 

Oh, and in other news, the weight loss thing isn't going so well. For example, there's an IHOP beside the Arby's. Twitch has had to be at work at 8:00 every morning this week, but Arby's isn't open for breakfast. Leaving home before 7:00 hasn't given me the opportunity to eat before leaving. So twice this week I had the Bananas Foster Brioche French Toast at IHOP. Oh boy.

I mean look at that. Who could resist? Who knew warm bananas could taste so good? 

I recommend them if you aren't trying to control your BMI. So good! I got myself a bowl of cereal before leaving this morning, so was able to forego the cost and calories of that particular temptation today. Then I had a chocolate turnover this afternoon. In my defense (which isn't a good defense, by the way) I had a V-8 for lunch. *sigh*

Half way through the second beer. Feelin' good! I haven't been drinking much recently, like less than a beer a day. Maybe two or three beers a week. So two beers has a bigger impact. Oh, further along on that beer than I thought: just finished it. Weeee! And now I don't even care that the Braves are playing like shit. My tongue is going numb. Nice buzz.

Superman is on his way home from work. Yes, it's 8:40 on a Friday night. He's been working a lot of long hours recently. The plant just had a power surge and he lost the PowerPoint he'd been working on for over an hour, so he's chucking the whole thing and coming home. I suspect he'll have to spend a couple (or more) hours at work tomorrow.

What else? I suppose I could update the Sproing drama. Yesterday was hell. Did I mention in my last post that he'd been before the judge on the ... wait a minute. Let me check the last post and see if you are up to date with his latest criminal activity. (insert Jeopardy "wait" music)  Nope. That last post was written before his latest criminal activity. Last weekend he stole Superman's debit card, took it to Wal-Mart and spent approximately $150. When this breach of trust was discovered, we called the police. Because DAMN! We live in the city, Wal-Mart is in the county outside city limits. So to make life more difficult (because damn) the offense has been divided between city police and county sheriff's departments. The theft of the card is a police matter, the use of it is sheriff's domain. He's had his arraignment with the city. We're waiting on the sheriff's warrant, when we'll have to see a different judge because fuck my life. The municipal judge considered putting Sproing in jail, but released him on a personal recognizance bond of $5000, with restrictions. The judge, bless his heart, wrote his direct phone number on our copy of the paperwork.  If the boy gives me any grief I can call the judge and he'll revoke Sproing's bond, sending him to jail until his June 5th court date.

Well, yesterday Sproing was being an ass, at which he has a special gift. I asked him to fold and put away the load of towels in the dryer. Oh. My. God. You'd have thought I asked him to donate a kidney. After the judge had a serious talk with him about doing the right thing and respecting his Mama. And it got worse from there. I finally told him that I was done, and would call the judge tomorrow. (Which was today, for the record) He kinda freaked. (What the fuck. What does he expect?) Then he (Sproing) asked to talk to the sheriff's detective who questioned him about the charge, a guy who used to be the resource officer at the high school. Evidently Sproing feels comfortable with the man. So I called the sheriff's department (at 9:00 in the evening) and asked for the detective to call me. Which he did. I'm impressed. He talked to Sproing, calmed him down. After the conversation Sproing was way more copacetic. He apologized and everything. So I had pity on him and didn't call the judge today. So far today he's been calm, but I've hardly interacted with him at all. He got home from school right before I left to pick up Twitch. When I got back I went to the beer and baseball, and Sproing is doing his thing away from my presence. So far so good. Tomorrow is Saturday and we'll probably have more opportunity to interact. Oh please oh please oh please let it be peaceful!

Sproing got the warrant from the city, which is what sent us to the municipal judge. He hasn't yet gotten the warrant from the county, though. Once he does, we'll have to go to another judge to repeat the process. I don't know how that'll work out.

Oh, and of course all this shit violates his probation with Juvenile Justice. I talked to his probation officer. She said she'd wait to see what the city and county do with him before taking any action. She thinks it'll work itself out without her having to interfere. You see, since he's 17 years old now, he's treated as an adult when he fucks up like this. DJJ is a secondary concern. Damn, I hate this. Sproing can be such a nifty guy. But he can also be a pain in the ass. As you have probably realized by now.

HA!! Braves won!! Finally. Maybe this portends good fortune for this weekend. In my life, not just for the Atlanta Braves. That'd be nice.

Today I've been in a good mood. Last night I felt like wringing Sproing's neck. Today I spent pretty much all day without Sproing, and got to drive my truck, which always makes me happy. I had a lovely almost three hour nap this morning when I got back from Simpsonville, finished my sappy gay romance novel, had a good shoe shopping experience, drank CAFFEINATED COFFee and ate chocolate yummies. And now the Braves have just won their game (yay, about damn time boys) and I've now had three beers. The buzz is strong in this one. Time to end this post, take a shower (because I'm kinda ripe) and kiss all over my husband who has finally gotten home from work. If there was anything else I meant to say in this post, well, it won't happen.

Until next time

Ten days after Sproing returns, plus other places my brain goes

Yeah, sorry it took so long to update the whole Sproing returns thing. It's been a busy week and a half.

Things are not, unfortunately, very different from before he left. We've had a few good days in a row here, but the first week was hell. He's arguing about almost everything. I try to have a discussion, a conversation, and he thinks I'm attacking him and responds accordingly. Yelling ensues. He has a problem with authority.

I took him to get his driver's license this week. That helped. Before he left he had a traffic ticket that he didn't pay. While he was in jail he got (delivered here, of course) a letter from the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) saying that he had to pay the ticket ($100) before stated date or turn over his license to the DMV. Of course he didn't pay it, being as he was in jail. And I sure as hell didn't pay it. Actually, I took his license to the DMV and turned it in. So Sproing had to pay the $100 ticket, then had to pay a $100 fee to get his license reinstated (or something like that) PLUS a $25 fee for the actual physical license. I helped him a little bit with those second fees, but not much. The $25 was a surprise to both of us.

Anyway, since getting his license he's been generally satisfied with life. Superman allows him to drive the truck. Sproing has so far been pretty good about keeping gas in the truck.

OK, here's another concern I have. Where is he getting this money? I asked. He said one of his friends has been giving him money for gas, but I have doubts about his story. If I press him for more details, I suspect he will go all ape-wild mad again. Perhaps I'll suggest to Superman that he question the boy.

In other news, Twitch is doing very well at Arby's. It isn't the job he wants, but it is the job he has and he's doing it well. The good news is that he's been promoted to manager. The bad news is he's being transferred to a store an hour away. That's actually good news in the long run, but problematic for the immediate. The idiot hasn't been saving money like he should have so he doesn't have enough money to move. And he doesn't have a car. He doesn't even have a driver's license. So far he's been able to hitch rides with coworkers. Next week there are two days when he has no ride to work. This is not cool. Mama doesn't like it. Mama doesn't want to drive two hours round trip twice a day. NOT the hip gig.

I got Sproing enrolled in school finally. He starts Monday. He's been assigned to the alternative school, but he's come in at an inopportune time. Standardized testing for his grade starts Tuesday, and he has to take the tests at the zoned school, his regular high school. He doesn't have any assigned classes there. He goes in Monday at 10:00 for about 1.5 hours for some kind of pre-testing thingie, then Tuesday and Wednesday he'll be there at 9:00 for a few hours. Possibly all day, I'm not sure. Getting him to and from school is going to interfere with Twitch's transportation needs, not to mention that I have to get Diva to and from her Adult Ed program from 8:30 to 11:30. And I can't just leave Sproing at the high school since he doesn't have any classes there. If the testing last long enough on Tuesday and Wednesday he can take the bus home. I hope that works.

Fortunately Sproing and Diva will be going to the same location once he's at the alternative school. Oh, they call that program "Refocus Academy." Doncha' love it? Anyhoo, the GED classes, though not affiliated with the school district, are held at the same campus as the alternative public school programs. They'll both start school at 8:30, then Diva leaves at 11:30. Sproing stays until 2:something. Maybe 2:30, I don't rightly recall.

In the intervening weeks since my last significant post, baseball season started. YAY!! My Braves have won some and lost some. Right now we're in the bottom of the 9th in Philadelphia (hi Denise) and we're up 5-2. We've lost our last five, maybe six games, so a win here will be especially nice. And we won! Lest you feel too bad for the Phillies, they won last night. We play the Phillies again tomorrow afternoon. I don't know who wins that game yet, you know, time being what it is.

I don't know. Perhaps my brain is finished with this post. There are other things I have thought about writing recently whilst doing something else, but I get here and they flee my mind.

Here's something. I've been fascinated with New Zealand. It's going on winter there. I have Dunedin, NZ programmed into my phone's weather app so I can trace winter's progress. I'm sad that our summer is approaching, as the heat really gets to me. And why New Zealand, you ask? Because of Anyta Sunday. She writes gay romance stories, and I read a lot of gay romance stories. I read other things, too, but I read a lot of gay romance. She is from New Zealand and a lot of her stories are set there. Why Dunedin, NZ you ask? That's the location of University of Otago, the setting of one of the stories I read recently. So, New Zealand. I'd like to go. Perhaps I'd like to study at the UofO. I like going to school. I'm not fond of some of the shit going on in my life here, and I'm not in school right now. I could run away to New Zealand and study at University of Otago. It's a fun thing to think about when I'm lying in bed not going to sleep at 3am.

Also, insomnia. But I don't want to talk about that right now.

Here's a video I just watched. I like this guy's educational videos.

The Return of Sproing

Good grief. I knew it had been a while since I posted, but over a month? I had no idea.

I am currently waiting to hear from Sproing. He is being sprung from kiddie jail today. Juvenile justice dept is transporting him to the county courthouse today, and he should be arriving any time now.

I'll check in later to let you know how everything pans out.

It's only Tuesday? I thought for sure it would be Friday by now.

 

Yo-yo. That's what she is. Or that's what she's doing to me, I don't know.
Yes, the Diva is back. This doesn't surprise you, does it? I hope not. We all should have predicted this. Hell, I did.

She seems to be back to stay, at least for a while. We discussed her continued education. On the advice of the student support specialist at the high school, we're looking into the adult education GED program at the alternative school. This seems to be the best bet for the child.

I am kinda depressed. It's hard to write much. By the way, I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow (Wednesday) afternoon. Haven't seen her in a while, what with surgery and recovery and all. And boy, do I have a lot to share with her!

An old friend stopped by the house today. Wendell. I probably wrote about him a few years ago. He worked with Sproing for a while, teaching him how to be a decent human being. Don't know how well it worked, but oh well. Wendell is a fantastic fellow. He lives in Los Angeles now and works with a social service agency that targets people with at-risk behaviors for HIV/AIDS prevention education, among other things. Wendell worked with Sproing, but he and I became good friends. I miss him. It was very good to see him again.

I had a good conversation with Diva last night. She told me a little bit about living with her birth mom Janice. In a round-about way, probably unintentionally, she kinda told me that I'm a good mother. It took me a couple of hours after the conversation to realize it, but hey! I'm taking the compliment.

Jay asked about Twitch. Yes, Twitch still lives here. He works at Arby's, making sandwiches for the hungry lunch crowd almost every day. He is doing well, but really should be working (in my opinion) as a graphic designer or something related, which is what he got his degree for. However, he has plans to transfer to a store in Charlotte, NC this summer so he can look for graphic design work there. He went to college in Charlotte, so he's familiar with the city. It's big enough to have more opportunity for work in his field. That's the hope, anyway. He just turned 24 and feels like it's a drag to still be living with his parents. As much as we love and support him, we think he should be living on his own, too. All in good time.

That's about all I have the emotional energy to relay. I'll be back.

Diva update and other random shit on a Friday night

So, Diva. She was here for two nights, last Sunday and Monday (I think. Time runs together, becoming meaningless). She was supposed to have a job interview at Burger King on Tuesday, but she didn't go. It was snowing outside, but the weather wasn't too cold and no snow was sticking to the pavement. And I told her that if she was here tomorrow (which would be Wednesday in this version of time) I would take her to school to enroll. Son of a gun if she didn't have somewhere for her Daddy to take her on Tuesday night. She went to stay with some man (early 20s, Superman guesses) in Edgefield, about 45 minutes from here. I have no idea who this character is, whether he's a decent person or not. I suppose I should care, or should have checked, but as independent as Miss Diva wants to be, it seems improper for us to interfere.

In related news, her birth mother Janice told me she thinks Diva will be back in jail eventually, probably sooner than later.

Superman heard from Diva the other night. She texted him she wanted him to pick her up from Edgefield and take her to a friend's house in Saluda. You can look those places up on a map if you want. They are both about 45 minutes from Greenwood, one to the southwest, the other to the southeast. And not close to each other. Superman didn't reply and we haven't heard from her since.

Maybe we should be more diligent, but honestly, I have no energy to do so. I have not been a good mother to her. I tried, did the best I knew how, but it didn't work. My attitude now: oh well.

In Other News-
Superman took me out to dinner tonight. McAlister's. Decent food for a franchise deli. When I sat down at the table I KA-WHANGED my elbow on the ledge beside the chair. O.M.G. that hurt! I hit it hard. Not on the funny bone nerve, but on the bottom of the elbow. I've had ice on it since we got home. I'll take a pain reliever eventually. And yes, I can (almost) type while keeping my elbow on ice.

More Other News-
We bought a birthday present for Twitch tonight, only two weeks after his birthday. It came to me. I didn't know what to get him before. We got him a super big beach towel. Did you know Wal-Mart has put beach towels on display? At least they have in Greenwood, South Carolina. The young man has wanted a large beach towel for a while now.

Next News-
I have read a lot recently. Books on my Kindle. Have I mentioned that I really like my Kindle? I also watched some movies on TCM (cable movie channel). I watched two Frank Capra offerings yesterday, "Meet John Doe" and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." Frank Capra had a type. Evidently he was an optimistic soul. Indigo (Ashen Grey on facebook) says the movies, which he has never seen, would be improved with the addition of monsters or zombies. But that's Indigo.

I am still taking it easy and recovering from the surgery. It gets kinda boring. Thankfully, I like boring.

Superman turned me on to a new artist and song today. Well, he's new to me. It's Hozier, with Take Me To Church.


His explanation of the song is really good, too. Check it out.

The Bitch Is Back

We got a call from Diva early this afternoon. Superman and I were with friends near Charlotte, NC when the call came in. Diva says Janice kicked her out of the house. Janice says Diva got pissed about having to do chores and live with all those siblings, packed up her own stuff and said she's leaving. Stupid stuff, no matter how you slice it. I don't believe Diva, not sure I believe Janice either. No matter, we are responsible for her care as long as she is a minor. December 4th, 2015 she's 18 and NOT OUR PROBLEM anymore.

Diva says she needs to stay here for two days until she can move in with a friend here in Greenwood. I have no idea how those plans are progressing. My guess is that said friend doesn't know about the plan. We'll see. If she has to stay here, though, she'll go to school. We also aren't going to put up with the shit she's dealt us for so long. Things are going to change. Heaven and all the saints above and below give me strength to stand my ground.

I'm still supposed to be taking it easy, recovering from this surgery. Stress doesn't help. I took an Ativan (benzodiazepine) before we left our friends' place. I'm about to take another one now. I intend to stay as chillaxed as possible while she's here. If she is still here Monday, I'll go on the war path or something.

I don't have a good feeling about this.

Two weeks ago today...

I had surgery to remove all my female reproductive organs. See previous posts. Oh look, it's still Thursday (but less than an hour to go until Friday). I meant to write this post earlier today, but it's my first day this week online and I got distracted with emails and of course the Facebork.

Yesterday (Wednesday 18 Feb) I saw the gynecologic oncologist for my post surgery checkup. All is well, more or less. There was indeed cancer in the endometrium, as he suspected there might be. It was stage 2 (of 3), so that's a little bit more frightening than had it only been stage 1. However, there was no cancer in the muscle of the uterus or in any of the lymph nodes he removed. He couldn't get to the lymph nodes on my left side because I have some wicked scarring in there. I have no idea how the scar tissue developed. Weird. Anyway, he saw no more cancer besides what was involved in the endometrium. Good news.

However, the cancer might return. Where? I ask, because I have no more uterus or ovaries or fallopian tubes to get the cancer. Ah, but there's still the vagina, he says. Oh. That would be very bad. I have no further need of the uterus, ovaries, or fallopian tubes. The vagina, on the other hand, still plays an important role in my life. And in Superman's life. The doctor says the greatest chance of developing cancer is in the next two years, so he wants to see me every three months for the next two years to continue monitoring the situation.

I thought once I lost the cervix (it's part of the uterus, so it is gone) I'd be done with PAP smears. No such luck, because now they'll PAP the vagina. Oh well. Probably not as uncomfortable as the cervical PAP. I hope.

I'm frankly a bit scared about recurrence. For years I figured I'd probably end up with some kind of cancer. The odds being what they are. Now I have had cancer, it's been surgically removed, and there appears to be no more of it in my body. Also, no further treatment is necessary. But now that I have had cancer, I'm afraid it might return. I really don't want any more cancer, thankyouverymuch. Haven't I paid my dues, Life? Eh, Life doesn't work that way. Life works thusly: Shit Happens. Sometimes it's good shit, sometimes it's bad shit, but shit continues to happen.

Speaking of shit happening; COLD. Today's high temp didn't quite reach freezing. That's very rare for our part of South Carolina. Tonight's low forecast is 11F. I know many of my blog buddies north of here are experiencing much colder temps, but by gosh, this is pretty cold for us. Dearest Daughter Light in western Pennsylvania hasn't seen anything close to above freezing in I don't know how long. It's amazing. Below zero Fahrenheit. Wicked whipping winds blowing snow horizontally. As of yesterday she was still alive. Haven't heard from her today, and I assume no news is good news. Surely she'd let me know if she froze to death, right? She fell on the ice last week, but didn't do any more harm than a couple of scrapes and bruises. Poor Ron, retired in Delaware, messed up his knee falling on the ice.

With this cold weather we got a bit of precipitation Monday. Freezing rain, which is the curse of the south. It rarely snows, but we get our share of freezing rain. Thankfully the roadways were warm enough to not ice over in most of this area. Just a bit north, in Greenville and Spartanburg counties, they had road ice. Anyway, the power lines iced up as did trees. We lost power for about four hours Tuesday morning, from 7:20 to 11:20, and that was a lot less time than some folks did. The houses across the street evidently are on a different trunk line or something, because the neighbor lost power at midnight Monday night/Tuesday morning. The power outage wasn't such a big deal, but the cable outage was. We get our internet through the cable company. No TV, no big deal. No internet, BIG deal! The internet came back yesterday late morning, but I had a doctor's appointment in the early afternoon and after that I was reading, so didn't hit the internet until this afternoon.

The recovery time for my surgery (I changed topics again) is from two to six weeks. The doctor has increased my maximum weight lifting limit. It was 10 lbs, is now 15 lbs. Also, I can drive again. In celebration (or something) I went to the grocery today. I had Superman bring home the two gallons of milk we needed when he came home for lunch, because milk is heavy. I got a few things this afternoon. It was my first time out by myself since before the surgery. Yesterday going to the doctor was my first time out of the house since I got home from the hospital two weeks ago Friday. As I may have mentioned here before, I have a touch of agoraphobia. I feel more comfortable at home. Don't like to go out, especially to large crowded spaces. Some days Wal-Mart freaks me the hell out. Today I went to Aldi, which is much smaller, and I went between 2 and 3 o'clock when the store was sparsely populated. Even then, by the time I got to the check out line the anxiety was ratcheting up. I managed to get home OK, though, and didn't take any anxiety meds. So good for me.

Per Herr Doctor's orders, I still need to "take it easy." Not lift more than 15 lbs for the next four weeks, so no going back to the gym for weight machines. I can walk the treadmills, though, and that would be a good idea. They had told me before surgery that I couldn't resume sexual intercourse for six weeks, so I said something to the doc yesterday about only four more weeks for that. Nope, now I have to wait six weeks from yesterday to have sex. Shit. This is turning into a depressingly celibate winter. At least we can still snuggle.

A Haiku, dedicated to my friends and relatives suffering in the winter weather up north:

Wicked whipping wind
Blows snow horizontally.
Damn, it's cold out there! 

Six days post surgery

... and I feel fine!

Seriously, almost no pain. It's amazing. Oh, and I finally pooped yesterday. The doctor had me take a strong laxative the day before surgery. Took me three days just to fart. This is of particular interest to me because my father died (two years ago next month) six days after heart surgery because his bowel died, or something. Details are sketchy. All I know is that he never had any bowel activity after the surgery. Eventually all his organs failed. So farting after being under anesthesia is very important.

Moving along...

I haven't been online at all since last Friday after I got home from the hospital. I have, however, read about four or five gay romance novels. Fun and fluffy reading, folks. Today I decided to check my email and post here. Between point A and point B, Facebork happened. I'm so ready for a nap right now, but am making myself write this little bit of drivel before doing so.

And that's pretty much all I know.

Oh, here's a fun idea I got from Mel Vassey*, ** on Facebork today. Replace one word in a movie title with "goat." I'll start:
Goats on a Plane
Gone with the Goat
When Harry met Goat
continue in the comments, as you wish.

*Mel used to have a blog. He may still, but I can't find it. Can't remember the name of it either, just that it was a Spanish name having to do with wool or knitting or something. He's very smart and funny and I recommend reading his stuff if you find it. Or look for him on the Facebork.

**I found it! Cabezalana, but he hasn't updated since April of last year. He's also on Twitter, I understand, but I'm not.