Snowy October (sigh)

So yeah, I know I live in Colorado and I know it snows in October in Colorado. Still, I wasn't really prepared for this, mentally.

I'm not sure how much we got -- and it's still coming down -- but I'm going to guess 4-5 inches? [The official total for Boulder was actually 6.8 inches.] Not the foot they said we might get. The snowplow has come by a few times, and our kind neighbor did a great job of snowblowing the walks. So now I just have to get out there and do the driveways. I told the kids we'd shovel after lunch.

Yesterday I spent quite a bit of the day in bed, reading. I finished the book from our shelves that I was working on, and also a spooky book. It was very enjoyable. Teen B and I tried to go to Starbucks (because I knew I wasn't going to want to do that today), but the parking lot was a zoo, so we went to the Starbucks inside King Soopers instead. I did a load of laundry and heated up leftovers for dinner. Oh, and cleaned the litter boxes, fed the cats, ran the dishwasher, etc. But that's about it. 

Everyone needs a day like that sometimes. Of course, I want to spend today in bed too, but I will try not to.

Up until it snowed, things were looking very pretty around here this week. I took a walk every day (until yesterday, when it was snowing and cold) and really reveled in the beauty. This picture shows our orange and yellow oak tree next to a tree with red leaves and some trees that are still green.

It was a mixed week, stress-wise, some good and some bad. I thought I'd review the things I was stressed about last week, see what kind of progress I made on them. 

1. Of the three burned out lights in the house, I managed to fix one! Rocket Boy coached me through how to remove the tube over the kitchen counter, I finally succeeded, went to McGuckin's to get a new one, and successfully installed it.
2. I'm still just listening to the noise my car makes. Probably should take it in.
3. Found out a little more about the twins' schoolmate who died. Seems like a terribly sad situation.
4. Nothing has been announced about conferences being rescheduled. I'll wait another week and then maybe start contacting teachers individually.
5. Our old property manager informed me that the HVAC guy who gave us an estimate on fixing our rental house furnace has had a recurrence of cancer and has stopped working. Now I have to find someone else. I bought our tenants a new washing machine and it was delivered on Thursday.
6. No word on a new job for Rocket Boy. He was turned down for one that interested him a lot. I haven't bought any new clothes. I'd really like to get my braces off before I have to job-hunt, but we'll see.
   
7. My washed keyboard worked for a while and then the "h" and "g" keys died. So I picked up another keyboard at Goodwill for $5. It's cranky -- I have to hit a lot of the keys hard to get them to respond, but it's better than trying to think of words to write that don't have "h" or "g."
   

I had a mild panic attack on Thursday, the day the washer came. I had an orthodontist appointment scheduled for 10 am, and the washer was supposed to come anywhere from 8:30 to 12:30. When I left the house at 9:45 there was still one delivery scheduled before ours. It all would have been fine except that my orthodontist was running late. They are never late! I got there at 9:55 and they didn't take me until about 10:35, very, very unusual. I had broken a bracket -- by biting down on my toothbrush, of all things -- and I forgot to bring it with me to the appointment, because I was worried about the washer. So that sent me into a tizzy. 

As it turned out, the orthodontist decided not to replace the bracket. It was on the last tooth on the top left side and he said I didn't need that one anymore. One bracket off! Maybe I should try to break off the brackets on all the other end teeth, too.

That meant that the appointment was very quick (once it finally started), and I was out the door by 10:45 or so. The delivery guy called while I was driving home, so I answered my phone while driving, something I never never never do, but there was no good place to pull over and I didn't want to miss the call. They arrived about 2 minutes after I got home.

The actual delivery and installation process was seamless. They hauled out the old washer (I'd paid for them to take it away), hauled in the new, set it up and got it going. It seemed fine. Kind of loud -- I should have gotten an LG, not a GE -- but our tenant is very deaf, so it actually might not bother her. I worried that I should tip the delivery guys, but I was chatting with the tenant the whole time, so I couldn't go home and get some cash, and when they were done they just said bye and were gone -- I guess because they had more deliveries and needed to stay on schedule. Oh well, I hope they are well paid.

When it was all over, THEN I had the panic attack (or nervous breakdown, whatever it was). I went back to bed and didn't get anything else done that day. I told the kids I couldn't cook dinner and I took them to MacDonald's instead, had a little breakdown on that trip too. And my day in bed on Saturday may have been related to this as well.

I kept telling myself, "I'm not stressed, I just don't wanna," but no, uh uh, I was stressed. It was a pure stress reaction. I did what I had to do, got through my ortho appointment, got through the washer delivery, but THEN I fell apart.

I don't even know what I was stressed about! It would have been OK if I'd missed the call from the delivery guy. The tenant was there to sign for the washer. It maybe was a bit too much "I don't wanna" as well. I so badly didn't want to buy a new washing machine on my own that even though I managed to do it, it upset me. I just don't know.

I was OK by the next day. I even took Teen B to the Haunted House at their high school, something I swore I'd never do again after I was completely terrified by it 5 years ago (the one and only previous time I went). I had a feeling that part of the reason I'd been scared in 2018 was that I'd never been in the building before. The school was constructed in 1933 by the WPA, so it's 90 years old. It's been added onto since then, but they hold the haunted house in the old part, and it is pleasantly spooky. 

Now that the twins go to school there, I've been in the building many times -- for concerts, plays, Picture Day, Back to School night, and conferences. It's comfortable, familiar. And so it was. We stood in line for an hour (see photo) and it was in the 30s with the wind blowing, and by the time we got in the building my joints weren't working very well. I wasn't sure I'd be able to go up and down the stairs! But I did, and the haunted house didn't seem very scary at all. I'd definitely go again next year. Looking forward to it already!

***

So now we have a couple more days of October (though it won't look like this), and then November will begin. Halloween will be a little different this year, because neither boy plans to go trick-or-treating. Last year Teen A said he was too old, but Teen B went out with Rocket Boy. This year they both think they're too old (is 15 really too old?), so we'll stay home waiting for trick-or-treaters. I have 4 bags of Tootsie Pops stashed away which I am not letting anyone get into. I hope that will be enough candy. I think the kids will be disappointed not to have a huge haul of candy after the 31st, but I guess they'll deal. 

At the library I picked up a DVD of the first season of a TV show called "Ghosts" for us to watch on Halloween. I had never heard of this show because I don't watch TV, but it seems like it will be amusing. I also got a Halloween puzzle at McGuckin's to be an alternate activity. What do you want to bet the twins will spend Halloween night playing stupid computer games in the desk room while I try to be festive in the living room? I'd say there is a good chance. But I can make the puzzle on my own if need be. Maybe next year Rocket Boy will be home and we can make a puzzle together.

Beautiful October

Another interesting week -- again, more for me than for you. I spent the week practicing my two new mantras: "You're not stressed, you just don't wanna" and "You don't hate yourself." They were surprisingly effective. I got some things done, and in other cases I realized and acknowledged that I wasn't doing things NOT because I was stressed, but because I didn't want to do them.

It's funny how that's such a difficult concept for me. I think it's embarrassing to admit that you just don't want to do something. It sounds like a little kid: "I don't wanna!" Thus we turn to the mature, adult excuse: "I'm so stressed!"

I did wonder, though, how I could know when I actually am so stressed that it's preventing me from doing something. Because stress does exist, and it does make life difficult. Then I remembered about my old friend, Irritable Bowel Syndrome. When I'm truly stressed, my intestines (or something near them?) hurt, a lot. I mean, sometimes that happens without stress, but mostly not. It's a pretty good indicator that I'm not coping. So I'll try to watch for that. 

Of course, the way things have been going recently, I might be heading for that "real stress" situation. Nothing terrible yet, just a series of stressors. For instance:

1. Three lights in the house are currently broken/burned out (the kids' bedroom light switch is broken, the lights under the microwave are burned out, and the reading light over the kitchen counter burned out this week). I've tried to fix the two in the kitchen and failed: I cannot get the microwave bulbs into their sockets and I cannot get the burned out tube out of its socket.
2. My car has started making an odd noise when I turn it on -- sort of a whistle, sort of a sound like a flute. No warning lights come on and it goes away after the car warms up. I don't know what it is. I just took it in a month or so ago and the car place politely encouraged me not to bring it back for at least 6 months, so I'm just living with this for now, but it's puzzling.
   
3. Another student at the kids' high school died this week, presumably a suicide. It sounded like a difficult homelife situation, very sad, really made me want to hug my kids-who-will-not-be-hugged. 
4. Because of the death, the principal canceled in-person conferences, which I was planning to attend on Thursday in order to confer with the various teachers of the classes my kids are struggling in AND get to know their new special ed case manager. The conferences may or may not be rescheduled -- last spring they were canceled after the "swatting" incident and not rescheduled.
5. I still haven't called the plumber to do the work on the rental house (not stress, just I don't wanna), but I did do one thing: I emailed our old property manager to ask for advice on that. It's been four days and no response, so I probably won't hear from him. In the meantime, the washing machine at the rental died, so I have to buy a new one. In doing research yesterday I learned that all top loading machines made today are CRAP, but we probably don't have the space for a front loader. So I will order a crappy top loader and prepare myself for problems.
6. Rocket Boy has had several job interviews recently. I'm not counting on anything, but I am trying to prepare myself for losing our health insurance. Things are not going well at his current job -- he feels like he's being encouraged to resign. Whatever happens, I suspect it won't be wonderful. I try not to worry needlessly, but I think it's good to be prepared. Hard to do both -- prepare and not worry. I spent some time looking at clothes on the Dillards website -- in case I have to get a job, I probably need some new clothes. Mine are pretty dreadful.
   
7. Baby Kitty threw up all over my keyboard this morning. I washed it and put it out on the clothesline to dry -- yes, I'm serious. So I'm typing this post on my laptop keyboard which I hate -- my fingers keep hitting the wrong keys, deleting things accidentally, etc.
   

So, yeah. A lot of things adding up. That's what causes stress reactions. But I'm OK for now. Still chugging along. 

I'm trying to focus on the positive -- or at least remember that there is a positive. The beautiful fall color, the fact that the kids and I are getting along pretty well, the Republicans' inability to elect a Speaker. I know, pretty soon they'll elect one and it'll be someone terrible and the country will fall apart. And then there's Israel/Hamas. And Ukraine. OK, but focus on the positive. The pretty trees.

I see my dietician again this coming week. It's been interesting so far, trying to change my eating habits. Not terribly successful, but interesting. So far I've managed to gain 2.2 lbs and eat a lot of chocolate when I'm supposed to be eating hummus. But you know, baby steps.

It was a bad cooking week (last week, that is). I planned four meals, with the idea that we'd eat leftovers on Thursday (when I would be at the conferences, that ended up getting canceled). But there were so many leftovers from the first three meals that I never cooked the last one (we'll have it sometime later this week). We ate leftovers on Thursday, Friday, and I also had them for lunch on all the days. And the fridge is still full! I need to just toss the rest in the compost. Or freeze some, maybe? I'm not very good at freezing leftovers. I don't know.

This week I thought I might make soup. The kids won't want to eat it, but I can have it for lunch every day. 

 A good thing I did this week was start working on my novel again. I thought about why I wasn't working on it -- was this an "I don't wanna" situation? But working on the novel is fun. I decided it was an "I hate myself" thing, as in "I can't face what a failure I am." I reminded myself that I don't hate myself and that being a failure is really not interesting. We're all failures, at least most of us are. I don't know very many people who have achieved all the things they planned to or were meant to. After this pep talk, I got to work and spent an enjoyable hour writing.

I drove with both kids yesterday and it was as stressful as it always is, but we didn't get in any accidents and we made it home safely. 

Teen A and I drove around for a while, arguing about what he should or should not be doing, then went to Home Depot to get thoroughly confused about washing machines, and finally went to Jamba Juice and got smoothies for him and his brother. Then Teen B and I drove to Munson Farms and chose four lovely pumpkins to decorate our house with.

So, we've got one more full week of October. The trees are spectacular right now, so I should go on as many walks as I can. I think it's supposed to get a little colder and we might get a little rain. Oh yes, Saturday night there's a chance of rain or snow and it's going to get down to 25. Glad I've got the furnace working.

Self care or doing what I don't want to do

This was an interesting week for me. Interesting from a mental/emotional standpoint, that is, not in terms of anything that happened. Most of the week was pretty routine, other than the twins being off school on Monday for Indigenous Peoples Day (and our yearly trip to CU for the ABCD study yesterday). It got colder and I turned on the heat, which, obligingly, came on. We haven't had our furnace checked out in years and years, so I feel very lucky that it keeps on working. I do put in a new filter every year, of course. This year, when I put the new filter in, I noticed that the instructions on the box showed that it should be put in facing north (and Rocket Boy had drawn an arrow pointing north on the furnace), but last year's filter had been put in (by me) facing south. That means that the furnace had to work harder last year. I'm very curious to see if we use less gas this year.

The coldest night was Friday, which was also the night that CU played Stanford. They were up 0-29 at halftime and ended up losing, after midnight, in double overtime, 46-43. What a terrible game that must have been. I turned off my phone and put it on the charger around 11:45 pm, because I didn't want to stay up late watching them lose, but after I turned off my light I kept listening for fireworks/firecrackers (which would have meant CU won). There was nothing. 

I don't really care about football, but it's easy to get sucked into the madness when you live in a football town. I was sad all day yesterday, thinking about the players and how miserable they must be feeling.

***

The interesting part of the week (interesting to me, that is -- probably no one else is going to find this interesting) began on Tuesday, when I saw the dietician my doctor recommended. Her office is on east Arapahoe, in a cluster of buildings I'd never noticed before, just off Foothills Expressway. I had to sit in the waiting area for a few minutes and I spent that time observing the general feeling of the place. It was very white, but with lots of plants and pictures and cozy furniture to sit on. There were multiple signs asking people not to eat in the waiting area: "If you need to eat, please go outside." I think the dieticians in the practice deal mainly with people with eating disorders, and I noticed that one of the offices was for a psychotherapist rather than a dietician.

After a while I heard a door open in the back and a few moments later, a young woman came into the waiting area -- she was my dietician. She welcomed me and we went back to her office.

I had filled out a very long, complicated form online before the appointment, trying to be as honest as possible about what I eat, my weight and dieting history, family medical and psychological history, etc., etc. Nevertheless, I had that sinking feeling that I was about to be not believed. I always feel that way when I have to talk to someone about my weight and eating habits. I think people must look at me and think, look at that fat lady. She must spend all her time stuffing her face. I start conversations in my head: "My serious weight gain began in 1990, when I started taking an antidepressant called Nardil... I've lost weight several times since then, including almost 50 pounds after I had my twins, but it always comes back on, plus more." But nobody wants to hear that.

The conversation didn't go like that, though. In fact, I don't think weight was ever mentioned. I told her I was there to work on blood sugar control -- I'd mentioned in the online form that my doc also hoped I would lose weight, but I didn't bring it up in the appointment and neither did she. On the website it said her approach is "non-diet and HAES aligned," and HAES (I googled it) means "health at every size." So, OK. 

We decided to focus on lunch, which is the meal I have the most trouble with. I probably should be eating a different type of breakfast, too, but lunch is really problematic. It's not actually a meal to me, but rather a series of snacks that begin around 12:30 (after I finish drinking my morning pot of tea) and continue, off and on, all afternoon. The snacks are things like a piece of bread and butter, or a muffin, or some Wheat Thins, maybe a piece of fruit, or a little bowl of M&Ms. Just enough food to keep my ever-present mild nausea (probably from the Metformin) at bay. If I'm going to do an errand, I'll have some cheese with my Wheat Thins, so that my blood sugar doesn't get too low while I'm out and about. 

The dietician gave me a sheet with a list of low glycemic snacks that I could choose to have instead of a muffin (hummus with cucumber slices, tuna with crackers, cottage cheese with melon, etc.). I agreed that I would try some of them. But I confessed to her that I have trouble following any sort of "rules" about what I eat. She said, "That's very common with people who have a long dieting history. Just try to think of it as self care."

Hmm. Self care.

I thought about that, crossly, for the next couple of days. 

Mainly, I couldn't understand why I would possibly want to do anything called "self care." I mean, what even is that? Self care to me is self-indulgent, it's spending money we don't have on clothes and procedures that aren't going to make me look good anyway, eating kale and quinoa so that my health will be enhanced in various unnecessary ways. Self care, my ass. If eating low glycemic snacks is self care, I'm not going to do it.

Then I thought about my sister. My little sister is very good at self care. She gets pedicures and the occasional facial, buys nice clothes, exercises regularly, and eats well. But she's a nurse. She works very hard. And she takes good care of herself so that she is able to take good care of other people. Not performing self care would be, for her, selfish, because it would mean that she couldn't help others.

OK, so what about me? I don't have a job. I think of myself as mostly useless, kind of a parasite. A rich-ish white person who mostly just reads a lot and takes up space (a lot of space). 

That's not totally true, of course. I am raising two teenagers, mostly single-handedly. I keep our household functioning. I try to keep our rental house functioning. So I do have a purpose, I just don't think my purpose is important enough to justify a lot of "self care." I go back and forth about this a lot, actually, especially since I received that Type 2 diabetes diagnosis. I felt guilty about that -- felt that I brought it on myself by not doing the right kind of "self care" -- and then felt angry that I would then have to start doing all this additional "self care" that I didn't want to do, like exercising more, and eating kale and quinoa. 

When I was pregnant, I received a great deal of attention from medical professionals and I liked it. I felt important and as though I were worthy of all that attention because I was bringing two new people into the world. When diagnosed with gestational diabetes, I buckled down and tried to follow all the new rules: testing my blood sugar and only eating eggs for breakfast. It was all for a good cause: trying to have healthy babies. Also, very important, it was temporary! Soon after the babies arrived, my blood sugar went back down.

With the Type 2 diabetes diagnosis, I also receive a great deal of medical attention, and I don't like it one bit. "You need to do X because you have diabetes," "You need to take X drug because you have diabetes," "You need to see X doctor because you have diabetes." I try to play along, but mostly the whole thing makes me angry. Also, it seems dumb. Who cares if my blood sugar is high? Well, if it leads to blindness or having a foot amputated, something like that, my family would be in trouble. It would be much harder for me to do the grocery shopping/cleaning/cooking/laundry/etc. if I were blind or missing limbs. Or if my kidneys conked out and I had to spend all my time on dialysis.

I wonder how I would feel if I were diagnosed with cancer. Would I be so cavalier about everything or would I buckle down and try to take care of myself?

It's as though I truly believe that I don't matter. I don't want to do "self care" because I don't think I deserve it. Or, if I'm going to do any "self care," it will be things like reading and eating candy, which are not actually considered "self care," they are "indulgences," at least the candy is. Maybe I distrust anything called "self care" if it's not something I want to do.

OK, but wait. Am I using the term "self care" correctly? I looked it up online. It turns out that, in fact, I already do, voluntarily, a lot of things that might be called "self care." It's not just facials and pedicures and eating things I don't want to eat. I tried making a quick list, with some suggestions from the internet.

1. I don't smoke.
2. I don't drink.
3. I don't use cannabis in any form, or any illegal drug.
4. I avoid coffee, soda, and artificial sweeteners (because they're all IBS triggers).
5. I eat very little meat.
6. I almost never eat fast food. 
7. I cook 3-5 times a week, usually with fresh whole foods, including veggies. (I don't really WANT to do this, but I want the kids to eat well, so I guess this is voluntary. Sort of.)
   
8. I try to get enough sleep. I fail on this a lot, but I keep trying.
9. I have braces! At age 63!
10. I clean the kitchen every night and the house every week.
    
11. I pay off my credit card every month.
12. I write this blog every week.
    

And I'm sure there are other things that should be on this list. So, in fact, I do self care already, lots of it. I don't do everything my doctor wants me to do, I don't do everything diabetics are supposed to do, but I'll bet lots of diabetics don't do all these things.

OK, moving on...

A few days later, Friday to be exact, I was thinking about doing some work related to our rental house. As I've mentioned before, I needed to call a plumber to arrange to have some pretty major work done on the house (which we now have enough money to do), but I couldn't find the estimate the plumber had given us in February. Partly I couldn't find it because I hadn't looked very hard for it. I kept telling myself I was too stressed out to look for it. On Friday I decided I'd had enough of that and I was just going to FIND the stupid estimate.

But I can't, I'm too stressed, I told myself.

And then I had a brainstorm. I'm not stressed, I said to myself. I just don't want to do it. I'm pretending to be stressed because that gives me an excuse to not do it.

Oh, boy, did that thought ever resonate. I mean, maybe it's not exactly an epiphany, because I already knew I didn't want to do it. I hate everything to do with the rental house. I hate dealing with the tenants (perfectly nice people, except that they're our tenants). I hate dealing with any and all workers -- plumbers, handymen, fence people, gardeners -- all of them. 

But I'm always telling myself that I feel stressed out, anxious, about the house. I freeze up, can't do anything because of my anxiety. Come on, I said to myself on Friday, this is not what anxiety feels like. This is pure "I don't wanna." 

I absorbed that idea and then got to work looking for the estimate. I turned the house upside down looking for it. I looked in every room that has papers (i.e., every room except the bathroom and the twins' room). Didn't find it. I decided the fairies were hiding it. Finally, Saturday morning, I found a version of it -- not exactly what I was looking for, but enough to go on. And then today I remembered where the rest of the paperwork was -- in an email from our old property manager. I found the email, and it had the name of the plumber and his cell phone. So I know what my next steps are.

OK, so what does this have to do with self care?

I'm not sure it has anything to do with it, but in the moment it seemed as though it did. Let's see. If I'm so convinced that I'm worthless, undeserving of any "self care," then how is it that I let myself avoid doing stuff related to the rental house? If I were really such a pathetic little worm, if I really disliked myself so much, wouldn't I ignore my feelings?

I thought, I need to take more ownership of my thoughts and feelings. If I don't want to eat certain foods or do other things for my health, it's not because I think I'm a worthless parasite, unworthy of being cared for. It's because I don't want to eat/do those things. And when someone says to me, "Think of this as self care," well, I have to think about it.

I don't think I have a hard life. I don't have to work, my kids are growing up, Rocket Boy makes enough money for me to pay all our bills. But I still feel overwhelmed by what I do have to do, and it's hard to add all this extra, unwanted "self care" into my life. So I need to think about it more. In the case of these proposed dietary changes, I'm hoping they will allow me to stay off horrible medications like Rybelsus. Which would be a plus for me, a big plus. Is it enough of a plus to convince me to change my eating habits? I don't know yet, but it's worthy of consideration.

I think the key for me is to stay away from thoughts about being worthless, as well as this whole idea of things making me so stressed and panicked that I can't function. I can function. The question is, do I want to?

So anyway, not that interesting to anyone who may read this, but for me it has been an interesting week.

October's bright blue weather

We had some very gloomy days this past week, but today is glorious. My camera can't capture the vivid blue color of the sky perfectly, but this shot is OK. "October's Bright Blue Weather" -- it's the title and refrain of a not very good poem by Helen Hunt Jackson, written probably in the 1860s or 1870s (she died in 1885).

The trees are just starting to turn, so I don't have any gorgeous tree pictures yet. Maybe next Sunday. Our honey locust is still mostly green, the birch tree (what's left of it) is green. I feel as though this could be a good year for color (lots of rain during the summer and cool nights now), but I don't know. Last year was spectacular.

Helen Hunt Jackson's poem is about how fall is the time for lovers, not spring or summer. I certainly agree. I fell in love with my high school boyfriend in October 1977, and 23 years later I fell in love with Rocket Boy at the same time of year. When our birch tree turns yellow, I always think of how brilliantly yellow it was the year we started dating. 

It's less fun to have him in St. Louis during October. He had a good interview with a Colorado company this week, and has high hopes of it leading somewhere. I refuse to have any sort of hopes about new jobs. They never pan out! But I am so tired of him being gone. We need to get him back home this year. I'm pinning my hopes on the "reasonable accommodation" thing that he's trying again. 

Not much happened this past week. No appointments, no activities. It got colder and colder (and then warmed up again, starting yesterday). My flowers are still blooming, not sure why. Even the tomato hasn't frozen. Well. We haven't actually had a freeze yet, that's why. It got down into the high 30s one night, though. I think we may have our first freeze this coming week.

On the coldest night I moved my little fuchsia onto the porch, but maybe I should put it back in the garden now. I don't know. The guy at the garden center said it would live through the winter if I'm careful with it. I've never done that before. You're supposed to put it in a cool dark place and water it every 3-4 weeks. I suppose I could put it in the garage, but it gets REALLY cold in the garage. Like, if it's 10 degrees outside, it might be 15 degrees in the garage. OK, maybe 20. But really cold. The basement is a little warmer, being underground, but there is no way I'm going to go down in the spidery basement every 3-4 weeks with a watering can.

It seems likely that the fuchsia will NOT actually survive the winter. But I'll give it a try.

I was fairly depressed this week, maybe partly because of the weather or the lack of things to do, but I think mainly because I'm just in a depressed period. It'll pass. 

I tried to be gentle with myself. I made my to-do lists each day, but I tried to make them easy. I did laundry, cooked, did dishes, cleaned the litter boxes. I did yardwork on two days only. I've gotten anxious about yardwork, in part because of the large black dog that came in the yard one day this summer. Every time I go in the backyard I expect a large black dog to appear, and I make sure I always have either the saw or the large clippers close at hand, to use as a weapon. However, I did manage to do some work, including clearing the path that leads to the garden shed. That shed really needs to be cleaned out, but maybe Rocket Boy and I should do it together.

I had planned to call my old friend who has Alzheimer's, but I couldn't do it, so I'll try this coming week instead. I read in an article about "how to talk to people with Alzheimer's" that you should be very positive when you talk to them, because they pick up on bad moods and go into a tailspin themselves. So it probably wasn't the right week to call her anyway.

What I did do was call the dietician that I'm supposed to see and made an appointment. I'm seeing her on Tuesday. Another thing I did was go to McGuckin's and get replacement lightbulbs for underneath the microwave. I did not, however, manage to install them. It's hard, and you have to wear a covering on your fingers so you don't get oils on the bulbs. I couldn't find my box of surgical gloves, so I might have to buy new ones this week. Oh, and the toilet started gurgling (when we took multiple showers or did laundry), so I called the plumber to do our yearly tree root removal. That went pretty well. I was glad to do it before things got really ugly.

What difficult things do I have planned for this week? Three phone calls: (1) I need to call the plumber who gave us the estimate on the rental house and try to schedule him to come out to do the work. I'm dreading that, but I should get it done. I have of course LOST the estimate and the name of the plumber, but I think it's findable. It may even be in a file. (2) I need to call our insurance person about increasing coverage on our house in case of fire. That shouldn't be too hard. I tried once but didn't leave a message. This time I could leave a message. (3) I should call my friend with Alzheimer's.

In terms of difficult tasks, (1) I think I should try again to put those lightbulbs in under the microwave (after first getting some gloves). (2) I also need to replace our furnace filter, which requires a trip to Home Depot (Teen A helped me go down to the basement to get the size info earlier today -- it's 16 x 25 x 4). Oh, and (3) I also want to get up on a ladder and cut some big limbs off the volunteer Siberian Elm in the front of the house WHICH SHOULD NOT BE THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE. Also, (4) I should do some pruning at the rental house, though I desperately, desperately don't want to.

I wish Rocket Boy would come home and do all these things for me. And no, I do not get any satisfaction out of doing them myself. Well, OK, the yardwork at our house, maybe. It is satisfying to walk around the backyard and see all the work I did this summer. But the other stuff, no. Another problem that I don't think I've mentioned yet is that the light switch in the kids' room has broken. I told Rocket Boy about it and he said "The kids should be able to fix that." The kids? I don't even know how to fix it and the kids are supposed to do it? Then he said, "Is that the mercury outlet?" and I said oh no, we're not touching this. I don't know what a mercury outlet is, but it sounds bad.

What would I do if there were no Rocket Boy to come home and fix things? I would (a) hire people (to fix the outlet) and (b) get rid of & replace things (like the vacuum cleaner with the broken plug). 

***

Yesterday, before going on my walk, I selected some books to drop off at little free libraries along the way. I brought three or four adult books and two children's books -- Halloween books, from our picture book collection. One was Froggy's Halloween, which I've never really liked. I dropped that one off in the little free library near our house. The other was Hide and Ghost Seek, which is basically just page after page of illustrations with ghosts hidden in them. You're supposed to find all the ghosts. I felt sure that we had all found the ghosts enough times and it was time to let someone else do it. I dropped that book off at the little free library in the park. 

At bedtime, we needed to start a new book (having finished Betsy in Spite of Herself the night before), and it was my turn to choose. The problem was, I wanted to read a library book and it hadn't arrived yet. I had tried to get it at the main library that day, the library SAID it had it, but I couldn't find it. So I went home and requested it. Within a few hours, the website said it was "in transit" to our branch library, so I guess they found it. But it didn't arrive that day, so I said I'd read a Halloween picture book that night. I got all the Halloween picture books out and lay them on the desk in the twins' room, thinking about how no one wants to read them anymore. I selected one to read aloud (Happy Haunting, Amelia Bedelia). And Teen A said, "Where's that book with all the ghosts that you find?" 

Pause.

I said, I gave it away. I put it in a little free library. 

Today.

Long story short, this morning, on our way to Starbucks, Teen B and I stopped off at the park. I brought along a different Halloween children's book, to propitiate the little free library gods, and what do you know? The ghost book was still there! It wasn't where I'd left it -- someone had obviously pulled it out and looked at it -- but they hadn't taken it. I took it, after first depositing the other book I'd brought. So now Hide and Ghost Seek is back home where it belongs.

Welcome, October

October at last! What a relief to be done with September. And what a relief to not be taking that terrible drug, Rybelsus, anymore. I took my last pill last Monday and that was a horrible, miserable day. By the end of it I had decided -- this pill isn't worth it. So I didn't take it on Tuesday. By the end of that day I was starting to feel better, and although it took a few more days to feel completely normal, I would say I do now. The pill stays in your system for about 5 weeks, so it's still there, I guess, a little bit. But I can't tell. 

I haven't told my doctor about all this yet. I am anticipating that I will have trouble explaining all the problems, but I will try. Before I do, I want to make an appointment to see a dietician, which was her other recommendation (so that I won't seem like a total slacker). I've found the dietician, but before I can make an appointment, I have to call the office to discuss insurance. Since I hate making phone calls, I've been putting this off. I hope to do it this week. I checked the dietician's schedule online and she has plenty of openings. I should be able to see her this month, once we get the insurance straightened out.

Be brave. Make the phone call. Let the spirit of October give you strength to do it.

OK, maybe that's a little weird. Just make the call. You can do it.

***

Supposedly this is THE weekend to see the fall color in the high country, but of course we didn't go. We need Rocket Boy for that. Down here in the flatlands the trees are just starting to turn and there will be pretty color all month. Last year there was an almost unbearably gorgeous tree a few blocks west of us that I want to be sure and see this year. Maybe in about two weeks. I'll try not to forget.

I did a funny thing this week. I've been less excited about yard work recently, even though it's cooler and therefore easier to be outside. I go out a few times a week, but I kind of have to force myself to do it. At compost pickup this week I only had 3 leaf bags plus the (half full) compost bin. 

But on one of my walks recently I noticed someone who had cut their iris leaves very short. Is that something I'm supposed to do? I wondered. So I googled it, and sure enough, when your iris leaves flop over (which ours did recently), it's time to trim them. I've never done this before, but we had ZERO iris blooms this year, so I thought maybe the irises would like to be trimmed. So I did it (and threw all the cut leaves in the compost bin). (They'd probably like to be divided too, but I think you're supposed to do that earlier in the year.)

One of the benefits (in addition to making me look like someone who knows what to do with her irises) is that the hen and chicks are easier to see. I like the hen and chicks. I never do anything for them, but each year they pop back up.

***

Friday was Sillers' 6th birthday, so I got her a cake at Safeway. Here she is, sampling the frosting. It was not a very good cake and there is still a lot left. Chocolate would have been better, but you can't give cats chocolate cake. (Yes, I gave both Sillers and Baby Kitty a little bit of cake.) After I shooed her away from the cake, I lit the candles and we sang happy birthday, but she just sat on the bench and wouldn't look at us (until I gave her some cake). 

It's strange to think that we've had these cats for almost three years. We got them right after Thanksgiving in 2020, two months after Chester died. They were 3 and 1. Now Sillers is 6 and Baby Kitty will be 4 in November.

We only had Chester for two years before he died. I still miss him. Every time I refer to one of our current cats as "Fluff," I think of Chester, who I usually called "Mr. Fluffy." I feel guilty using one of his names to refer to another cat. Of course, Rocket Boy routinely calls Baby Kitty, Chester -- because they are/were both white-ish cats.

***

The other special occasion this week was Teen B's concert yesterday afternoon. This was the one they call the "Showcase," because all the musical groups at the high school perform. They start in the auditorium with some of the bands and orchestras, then everyone moves to the courtyard (see photo) for the jazz combos and the choirs, and then we go back inside to finish off with the rest of the bands and orchestras. 

It was a beautiful day for it, the music was wonderful, and it seemed to me that there were more kids overall than last year. Maybe the damage to the music program from the pandemic is receding -- although it seems to me that it shouldn't be, yet. My kids were in 6th grade when the schools shut down, and they'd been playing their instruments for a year and a half. When instrumental music started up again, a year and a half later, many kids did not continue (one of mine did, one didn't). The current 9th graders would have been halfway through 5th grade when things shut down -- by 7th grade I would think very few of them would still be thinking about playing that instrument they were just beginning to learn when things shut down. But next year's 9th grade class might be the worst, because that'll be kids who missed 5th grade altogether -- when would they start playing an instrument? You don't usually start in middle school. I don't know how that worked. Well, we'll see next year.

***

It's the first day of the month, so I feel as though I should be making plans. It's also the first day of the last quarter of the year, ditto. And fall started only about a week ago.

OK, plans.

1. Yardwork is winding down, but I should try to keep up with it until the leaves are done falling (or the snow starts in earnest). It should be much easier to rake leaves now that I've cleared the pathways. And what about my plan to hire a tree-trimmer, hmm? Maybe make a few phone calls?
   
2. I want to go back to my novel. I had planned to work on editing it all summer... well, that didn't happen. I've started creeping toward it again, looking at supplemental material, thinking about it. It's set in October and it would be nice to finish it in October. Then I could move on to the next one in the series, lol. I think that if reorganizing it from scratch seems too difficult, I should just let it go. It doesn't have to be perfect. I'll think about that.
   
3. I haven't had any luck re-starting my project to re-organize our files. Well, that's not true -- I worked on them for 15 minutes one day. It was very stressful. What I need to do is spend some time setting up a list of small tasks to work on, so that the whole thing doesn't look so awful and scary. 
4. Cooking, cleaning, all that. Just keep working along. No big deal.
   
5. Halloween: at some point I should get out the decorations (if I can reach them, in the garage -- not sure about that). I could bring out the candy dish and fill it with candy, but then the boys and I will EAT the candy... hmm. I've decided to intersperse my serious reading this month with spooky books, and I already have the first two added to the pile.
6. I want to keep going for my daily (or near-daily) walks. Maybe I can try some different streets, so as to see different pretty trees.
    

OK, good enough. I'm actually afraid to plan anything more ambitious than this. My depression hasn't completely lifted -- it was replaced by the miserable fog of the drug last week, but this week my usual depression came back, like an old friend you don't really like but put up with because, well, you just do.

I was hoping Rocket Boy could come home for a while, but Congress passed a continuing resolution. It's for the best. Still, it's nice having him here in the fall. We could go see fall color...

Oh well. 

I read an article this week about how this is supposed to be a Super El Nino year. That could mean a lot of snow, although since Colorado is right in the middle of north and south, I guess it could go either way. One scientist was saying, oh yeah, check your snow shovels and your ice melt supply, and the other scientist was saying, well, could be this, could be that.

If I had a vote, I would vote no on the heavy snow. It's not the snow that bothers me so much, it's the cloudy days. But I'll manage, whatever we get.

***

Now it's past 10 pm and I should finish this up. It was a busy day, not much fun. We went to Starbucks, I did laundry and put away the clean dishes. I did Language Arts homework with Teen B, Language Arts homework with Teen A, World History homework with Teen B, and science homework with Teen A. Then I drove with Teen B and drove with Teen A. Then I took a walk. Then I put away the laundry. I don't make dinner on Sunday nights, so I had to argue with Teen B about that. He never likes what I make for dinner, but he likes to have the opportunity to not like it.

Rocket Boy called. He had ANOTHER fever this weekend, after just having one a week ago. He's not sure this one was cellulitis, but he said his leg is red and painful and he thinks he was hallucinating last night so... He said, shakily, "I'm glad we made that will."

I said take care of yourself, go to the doctor... I hate having him so far away and all this nonsense going on. But what can I do?

Now Teen A and I have taken our showers and Teen B is taking his. I have fed the cats. All that's left is putting kids to bed and doing a few dishes. The day's almost over. I'm tired.

Hope it's a good week. And a good month.