Learning to Get Along

The last few weeks have brought us some great memories and fun; but let’s face it, it’s really hard to feel upbeat when our country is in the shape that it is.  Not only are we all frustrated with prices at the gas pump and the grocery store; we are all unable to fully relax and enjoy the company of friends and loved ones because of the glaring political divide.  It’s no secret that the media is so in tune with what our preferences are that all we are able to access is more of the same brainwashing material.  Finding material to help you see the other side is practically impossible.  We are all being fed the information that “they” want us to see and hear that supports our own feelings; often separating us from our friends, family and neighbors.    

I am very proud of my 22 years of service to my community as a township official.  This experience gave me a lot of opportunity to strongly debate my thoughts on an issue and actively listen to the other side. Still, able to leave the meeting as friends; as if we shared all the same opinions.  Unfortunately, it seems that so many are unable to do that in the current political climate. I would like to think that it will get better after the election but I’m afraid it won’t all be settled with an election.

Speaking of coming together and serving a common goal; Scott and I had the pleasure of providing the host location for our grandson’s first birthday party.  While many of us would prefer to never have to see our ex’s again, reality is that with children and grandchildren, that isn’t always possible.  Working through this team-effort party, I found myself texting back and forth with Scott’s ex and going to her house to pick up things for the party.  It had to be pretty awkward for her too; being at the house that she and Scott built together and seeing all the changes. It’s weird; but it gets better with time. When you see the success that you can achieve when you act as a team it makes it all worthwhile.  It helps that we are all happier with the way it is versus the way it was; so we are all winners. 

Our greatest challenges were not people challenges.  We managed; despite the lawn mower belt coming off right when we needed to mow where the tent was to go, pouring rain when we had scheduled set-up time, and the typical problems you run into when setting up a tent or awning.  No one passed out blowing up the hundred and some balloons either.  Our little man’s first rodeo was a total success.  A very successful collaboration between his parents and the three sets of grandparents.  A party fit for a king.  He won’t remember it but we have plenty of pictures to prove it happened.  The family potluck immediately following was also a hit and by 9:30 p.m. we called it a day; leaving the rest of the clean-up until tomorrow.  Finally, a good day!   Praise the Lord!  Right?  Nope; I realize that my bank has been texting me; my debit card has been hacked.   

After the dust settled on our party day; our remaining six days home were packed with problem solving.  I got a new debit card and thankfully the bank took care of the fraudulent charges.  We got Scott’s truck into the body shop to repair damage done while we were shopping in Home Depot last month.  Fortunately, someone witnessed the employee causing the damage so it was covered.  I closed out three bank accounts we don’t need any more.  We figured out how to get his scripts filled in the U. P. since they can’t be shipped to Canada.  I guess there is a limit on the number of vacations you can go on and still get your prescriptions filled early if you are going to be out of the state or country.  Isn’t that the idea?  To retire and be on vacation all the time?        

I promised myself when I wrote the last post that the next one would be positive and upbeat.  So, I better get this thing turned around fast!  I know my life is something most would envy but we wouldn’t be humans if we didn’t get stuck in the mud at times.   

After squatting with family members at the cabin during their vacation weeks, it was finally time for our two weeks up there.  Scott’s daughter and husband joined us with their senior dog for a very chill week.  She is expecting a little girl in October and I was happy to act as photographer for them for some baby-bump pictures on the beach.  Fishing continued to suck and Scott and I both caught cold AGAIN but it was fun and relaxing. The following week had some friends join us for a great, relaxing time.  Although not everyone was able to make it up this year, we made lots of great memories.  Cooking on the outdoor stove, chilling on the pontoon and story-telling at the bonfire.  Two weeks of ideal weather in the mid to upper 70’s, with a great breeze = perfect.  Heaven on earth!  Even better; I FINALLY caught a fish.  Actually, two very nice fish.  These two whoppers putting me in the top spot for 2024.  Scott caught his first walleye in what he says is 54 years; yet go figure, after returning to camp with the fish supposedly on the stringer, they found that it had released itself.  At least he had a witness and a photo to back up his claim.  Has the worm turned?  I’ll provide an updated fishing report in my next post.

We had a great Labor Day Weekend with multiple activities with friends and family.  This week is also packed with fun things as we take advantage of the extended period of very warm weather.  After a number of failed attempts at stocking my new little backyard fish pond, I think I have done it.  I say think because after creating a really cool environment including multiple hiding places for them, I’m lucky to sneak up on them and catch a swish of a tail of one or two before they hide.  Hopefully over time they will respond to my attempts to feed them.  Particularly now that I have over $200 into the pond and supplies; plus over $40 worth of fish food.  Probably not one of my better ideas.  I should probably just order some rubber goldfish from Amazon and call it finished. 

I woke this morning before daylight; not ideal, but excited because I’m meeting with some girlfriends at a pool.  I guess if September is determined to be a continuation of a hot and dry summer, we might as well make the most of it.  The cleaning lady is coming today so getting up early is a great time to do all the cleaning it takes to prepare our house for the cleaning lady.  Some of you know what I mean and others just wish they knew.  When I worked full-time and owned the store, cleaning my house was something I could never get to.  Now that I have nothing to do, it’s something that I have worked hard for 45 years for and plan to continue.  There’s nothing better than your house smelling clean and fresh and knowing that you didn’t have to do it yourself.  Some people splurge on mani/pedis and I have my house cleaned.  My goal is to always stay in shape to the extent that I will be able to paint my own toenails.  Feeling that my feet are my most notable point of interest on my body; I like to keep them looking good.  If I can keep them looking at my feet; they might not notice my thickening middle!

I might mention that today is also Friday the 13th.  While I don’t like to let this type of thing bother me, the jury is out on today.  While getting ready for his walk, Scott excitedly told me to look out the back window.  There was a skunk, dragging a dead rabbit across the lawn.  Better yet, it dragged it over to the porch and under the hot tub deck.  Who knew that skunks ate rabbits?  If that’s the case, they probably eat rubber fish too.  As much as social media and technology are my nemesis; at least we know where to turn to find out how to eradicate a skunk under the deck.  I smell a story brewing; stay tuned!

Working Weekends

I’ve been AWOL again.  As a follow-up; it took a month but my mouth is finally healed and I can eat anything again.  Sadly, even a month of liquid diet followed by soft food didn’t lead to any weight loss.  Retirement and writing aren’t exactly working like I had planned.  My creative writing streaks seem to be few and far between.  Usually, my time on Lake Superior sets the creative juices flowing but this time we were too busy for that.    

As I have written, the property in Canada is a treasured investment made by Scott’s grandfather nearly 100 years ago.  While the heirs, ourselves included, have all concentrated our lives around caring for our families and maintaining our own personal properties, the cabins have been aging; patiently awaiting the day we would have time to show them some love.  Some years, such as the COVID years when Americans were not allowed to enter Canada, the critters have been the only ones to vacation there; leaving their mark like a bunch of unruly children.  As Scott and I entered full retirement, we were looking forward to spending an extended amount of time there getting the place cleaned up and tackling some of the long-needed projects.    After all, when you only had a week there for vacation, who wanted to spend it working or cleaning?

As excited as we were to get this party started, it wasn’t without sadness.  It was only last fall, that Scott and I had the opportunity to spend time with his cousin Jeff A and his wife.  The property allows you to live more like neighbors; enjoying morning coffee or meals as you wish but still having your own private space.  Successful career people; they too had just retired.  Jeff actually having the same blood disorder that had led to Scott’s stem cell transplant; essential thrombosis.  Luckily his was still successfully controlled by medication.  We had a great time with them and had plans for doing much more of it in the coming years.  Unfortunately, life took a turn in April and Jeff was killed in a skid loader accident at his home.  Leaving a huge hole in not only the heart of his high school sweetheart bride but his friends and family as well.  Taking out the chief operating officer of the family cabin.  Rest assured; Scott and I are committed to seeing his work continued.  Not a day went by that we didn’t silently look for his guidance or ask ourselves, what would Jeff have done? Gone but not forgotten for sure.      

A glimpse at the old kitchen

Going into this year, priority one was the kitchen in the original cabin.  After obtaining a practically new kitchen for the other cabin a couple years ago for free, expectations were high.  That new kitchen clearly outshined the old cabin’s kitchen, leading people to decide that a facelift was due for the old cabin kitchen.  Change is never easy and gaining “authorization” to tear out the old kitchen didn’t come without its challenges.  Looking like something that Aunt Jemima, herself would have cooked in, the kitchen held many memories of baking bread on the old wood stove, baking pies and frying up bacon and Batchawana fries in one of the ten cast iron frying pans proudly displayed on the cabin walls.  But it was time. 

Scott, frequently surprising me with what I consider his off the wall ideas, phoned the local home improvement store with a question.  When you tear out old kitchens, what do you do with the old ones?  The gentleman responded that they typically just end up in the dumpster.  So, Scott, asked – what would it take to get one of them for our family cabin?  “Paul” indicated that actually they were tearing out a fairly nice kitchen in a couple weeks and if we wanted to, we could come look at it.  If we liked it, we could have it.  For free.  Again?  Well; I was sure that was too good to be true.  I had a wait and see attitude. 

Sure enough, on the exact date, Scott’s phone rang and next thing I knew we were hooking up the enclosed trailer; on our way to look at this kitchen.  Peering into the fully loaded box truck, it seemed that this kitchen was slightly worn but certainly still had a few good years left on it.  We unloaded the entire truck complete with sink and countertops.  Lesson learned; it never hurts to ask!

May 19th, we headed North, loaded for bear, you might say.  I would say that Scott had everything but the kitchen sink in our truck and trailer but we literally did have the kitchen sink with us.  Armed with tools and supplies we were both excited to tackle this much-awaited kitchen project, among many others.  Arrangements were made with our amazing neighbors to keep the lawn mown and the birds fed, heading out for our first extended period North.  Friends and family members were scheduled to join us over the allotted time span. 

When we weren’t working, we were “entertaining”.  Fishing with our guests, playing cards and eating.  The fishing wasn’t that great but since we basically only do catch and release, I’m not sure it matters.  It’s all about taking in the scenery and spending time with people we either know and love or in some cases don’t know as well as maybe we should and getting to know them better.  We relaxed and laughed over cocktails; bonfires on the river bank after a hard day’s work.  Good thing food service is my passion. Scott was good for a few breakfasts and cousin Jeff O provided a mean chili but for the most part I was in charge of meals.   Oh, and brother Dan’s pea meal bacon breakfast was yummy too. 

For three weeks, we were in heaven.  The views were perfect and the weather was perfect; other than the pesky mosquitos and black flies, it couldn’t have been much better.  Not only were we loving our location, we had purpose.  As two people working through early retirement, we found great pleasure in having something to do.  Sure, retirement sounds great and is envied by most, in reality, it can leave you feeling a little unproductive most times.  Lacking purpose.  We worked like dogs and it was invigorating.  I don’t think I took Melatonin once while we were there.  No better sleep aid than just working and being tired at the end of the day. 

It took a couple days for us to figure out that if I was working alongside the guys on projects, that we couldn’t just stop working and expect a hot delicious meal to be waiting for us when we arrived “home” at the other cabin.  Eventually I figured out how to do both.  In hindsight, I found great joy in providing sustenance for our guests, but I would have appreciated a little more help with the dishes.  For the most part, once Bonnie left, I was pretty much on my own.  We might need to add a dishwasher to the wish list.  It’s hard to complain about washing dishes while gazing out at Lake Superior but one might argue that being out there would be even better.       

Chinking; doesn’t it look like fun?

While it might be true that you can’t teach an old dog a new trick, you can learn new things after sixty if you are open to it.  After Cousin Bill appeared a little bored with his job of chinking the cabin walls, I decided that learning a new skill might be more pleasurable than spending the rest of the day pulling nails out of the hardwood floor.  Like Tom Sawyer and fence painting; he graciously agreed to let me apprentice him.  For the unknowing, mortar chinking is the “art” of applying a layer of mortar between the rounded logs with the purpose of keeping the elements and critters out.  It takes effort to not make a mess on the logs and get it looking nice.  Crazy as it seems, I found it rather enjoyable and I think I have a future in the trade as it seems as a never-ending process in the life of a log cabin.  After mixing 240# of concrete mix and applying, we have only just begun.      

Returning home, I think we were both a little saddened to have our productivity come to an end.  Somehow sewing and practicing Spanish isn’t quite as rewarding as physical work.  It’s good for the heart and soul and a lot healthier than sitting on the couch writing.  Luckily, I have time for both.  I just have to commit to making it happen.

A view of the final product; not bad for a bunch of novices

Torus Mandibularis

April 26th Observation #7 –  Pain Sucks at any age.

Yesterday was my surgery to remove mandibular tori (un-necessary bones) in my mouth that had grown to be a big nuisance.   It seems that 7-10% of the population have them; but in most cases, they can exist without any issues.  Mine were to the point of making eating difficult; large enough in the bottom of my mouth that food would get stuck underneath them; giving me a choking sensation.  In researching, I learned that they would cut around the back of my lower teeth and peal back the skin to expose the bones, saw them out and replace the skin and stitch it back down.  Same for the growth on the outer side of my right molars.  Follow that with pain, swelling and a liquid diet for the recovery period. Needless to say, nothing any one really wants to think about having done but in my case, highly recommended.  Full recovery could take up to 4 weeks depending on the individual.   Lovely.    

The source of the problem

After years of procrastination, I finally found a specialist and scheduled my surgery. This was back in early 2022; before Scott got sick.  As the date got closer, it turned out that Scott’s stem cell transplant got scheduled for the same week so there was no way I could do it.  Rescheduling each time meant a 6-8 month wait and I have been postponing it like this since then.  Each time letting it make me more nervous than the time before. 

Thursday, April 25th was the day.  As our luck would have it, Scott came back from the funeral Saturday with a bug.  If it’s there, he will catch it.  I immediately began to quarantine; I could not reschedule this surgery yet again.  Doing that would certainly cause me to say it just wasn’t supposed to happen.  I would cancel for good and deal with the occasional issues.  Between Zicam and keeping my distance, I managed to ward off his cold.  Mother-in-law Bonnie offered up her shuttle service so I had a ride. 

I can’t explain or remember when it happened but some where along the way I had managed to squash my fears and take the mindset of calm.  Maybe it came from starting chair yoga this year.  Rather than losing sleep and making myself sick with worry I just blocked it out.  I was just going in for a routine cleaning or something; nothing to worry about.  No big deal.  This was particularly difficult as we sat in the waiting room for an hour.  Not only is Bonnie a good driver; she is punctual. 

The team came in on schedule.  The nurse was new and seemed uncomfortable doing the IV so the doctor did it.  It was actually rather painful so I joked that he wasn’t exactly off to a good start; with a 7 out of 10 on the IV.  My biggest fear was waking up as they were sawing away.  I told him I was willing to forget the bad IV as long as he didn’t mess up the rest of it.  I wanted all the sleepy drugs they could give.  Luckily that part was a 10 of 10.  I remember looking around a couple times but never felt a thing. 

The surgery concluded around the 2-hour mark as they estimated and after picking up some prescription mouthwash my driver had me home.  At this point, the pain was manageable with Tylenol and Advil and I wasn’t starving yet.  I’ll take that one day at a time too.  Que sera, sera.

The point of my story is that I think with age, can come calmness or peace.  Throughout life, we spend a lot of time worrying about things we can’t change or fix immediately.  As we age, I think we realize that these things are going to happen whether we worry about them or not.  If my younger self only had the wisdom to let it go and take things one day at a time, maybe I wouldn’t have a head of completely gray hair!

Post-script on Day 7. 

Post-op day one found me doing alright.  Killing it actually.  Writing stories.  I can do this.  This girl’s a rock star! Then enter post-op day number 2.  Now, who has a bad cold?  Yup, coughing until you think you will pass out. A stuffy nose.  Sinus drainage scorching down my already badly beaten tongue.  Just what I needed.  Not only do I feel like someone has been swinging me around by my tongue, I have to cough; rattling my teeth to my toes.  Wheezing like I swallowed a choir of small children. Alternating Tylenol and Ibuprofen every two hours and providing little to no relief.  I might have even tried some other drugs with little success.  Day 3 and 4 are pretty much the same.  My glands are so swollen under my chin that my neck feels as big as my thigh; if you can picture that!  So, heat on the under-chin and ice on the face.  Stitches are tied around my bottom teeth; l might just launch a new fashion trend; it looks so bad ass.   Enflamed glands and a swollen tongue provide enough pain that I can’t even tell that my teeth hurt too. 

I break down and call in on Monday only to find out that they still really don’t want to give me anything for the pain.  Reminiscent of when Scott had so much pain and they wouldn’t give him anything.  My cold is obviously hindering the healing process and they don’t think that pain killers will fix that.  Hang in there; it’ll get better they say.  I’ve learned to spoon soft foods onto my tongue and let it slide down.  Between mashed potatoes and protein shakes, I’m not starving yet.  But that reminds me.  I don’t think I’ve had any movement since the surgery.  Eating little or nothing, I forgot all about it.  Now suddenly it’s day six and it’s a problem that needs attention.  So, I take a couple Dulcolax and wait.  Six or eight hours and nothing; better take just one more.   

I’ll save you all the details but I’m sure you are anticipating this correctly.  After the cork is popped, it doesn’t stop there.  Sign me up for a colonoscopy; I’m ready for that now too.  In a weak attempt to cheer me up the other day, my friend reminded me that “at least you aren’t having to miss work”.   True; I can sit around for a week doing nothing but grimace in pain without even feeling guilty.  Which that itself is a major life change for me.  I’ve never been able to sit still, and here I am; sitting still on Day 7.  To add insult to injury, even after the unintended bowel cleanse; I have only lost five pounds.  While this experience is far from being funny; this is certainly fodder for my mantra of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.  You can’t make this up.  And it would make great material for my favorite comedian Leanne Morgan too.  Maybe I’ll friend her on Facebook.  Right after I google home remedies for a sore tongue.  Yikes!  On second thought, that’s probably a bad idea.  I might better just go back to sucking ice cubes and watching Love Is Blind.  Living the dream.

The oriole feeder awaits a returning guest and I anxiously await a return to normalcy.