30 YEARS AGO TODAY

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play...no, no, no! That was 20 years ago today and pushing a lawnmower had nothing to do with Sgt. Pepper or his lonely hearts club band. Thirty years ago yesterday, I stood in blazing heat pushing a lawnmower trying to ready the house I had rented for the move I was about to make after giving birth. As I pushed the lawnmower in record heat, I got more pissed off with every swatch I mowed. My dear husband was in California doing who knows what while I, 9 months pregnant was pushing a lawnmower. People kept giving me odd looks as they rode by, but not one person stopped to offer any help. I guess doing that would have been the neighborly thing to do and apparently, doing the neighborly thing didn't seem what most people had on their minds. 

So I mowed and mowed until I was exhausted and the job was finally done. At least my other two children would have a yard to play in while I attended my new bundle of joy. Early the next morning I awoke to a low backache and a cramping sensation. I laid there several minutes before realizing I was in labor. How appropriate it was to be in labor on Labor Day. I called ahead to the Navy hospital to find out where exactly I needed to go since it was a federal holiday and the normal procedure no longer held true. When I told the person on the other end of the phone my contractions were 4 minutes apart and this was my 3 child, I sensed urgency in their voice as they told me to come to the hospital right away. So off I went to have my 3rd and final child. After being examined, I was told I wasn't quite ready to admit, BUT they didn't want me to go very far so I was told to go hang out in the waiting room with all the expectant fathers. Ha! 

Nothing clears a room out faster than putting a woman in labor in the same room as the fathers who opted not to participate in the birthing process. Thirty years ago today, I gave birth to my youngest son. Those 30 years have sped by faster than I care to admit. Happy birthday, Matthew! You are one of the 3 beacons in my life and I love you dearly. I have a suggestion for the next 30 years....let's slow down how fast they go by! 

Gratitude statement: I am truly grateful for the kind of people my three children grew into being. 

*Repost from September 1, 2010

HERE'S YOUR SIGN

Bill Engvall suggests that stupid people should wear a sign cautioning others of their stupidity. Well, I have a group of people I can add to that ever growing population of willfully dense people. 

 On October 7, 2022 I wrote a blog post titled  A SIGN OF OUR TIMES discussing a reading comprehnsion problem and what that problem might cause. The other day my son called me on his lunch break informing me that my prediction had finally come true. Instead of handing out fines, I suggest they shame people by placing stickers on these peoples cars indicating that they can't read and/or follow directions.

            

 HEAD IN PARKING ONLY

OOPS!

To Breathe or Not To Breathe

For those of you who may be on the fence about using a CPAP machine for sleep apnea, I, too struggled for an exceptionally long time knowing I needed to use my machine. It's not an easy task and I attempted it several times with no success because I looked at it as being intrusive instead of being helpful and necessary.

I was originally diagnosed with sleep apnea about 2002, but I never made myself use the CPAP I got. At that time, my insurance company didn't consider the humidifier part of the device as being necessary. Try using a CPAP without it. I would wake up after just a few hours and my nasal passage and throat felt like it was on fire. I discussed this with my doctor and the only suggestion she had was for me to coat the inside of my nose with KY jelly each night. I know it sounds gross, but I tried what the doctor suggested. I had the same reaction plus I had dried KY jelly flakes all over the inside of my nose which made me look like I had some dreadful disease. It was a wonderful picture and a joy to try to clean out each morning before work! Shortly thereafter I finally gave up trying to use the machine until about 2012 when my health was going downhill fast. My diabetes had gotten totally out of control. I was tired all the time throughout the day, I wasn't sleeping well at night and I was having trouble concentrating during the day. It was as if I was living in a fog all the time.

When I did sleep throughout the night, I would wake up struggling to breathe. Then in 2012, I received a new CPAP machine which I knew I needed to use. No more lame excuses! My latest sleep study revealed I stopped breathing 55.9 times per hour with apnea-related episodes. Wow! That meant I stopped breathing almost once every minute. That number kept resonating in my head repeatedly. My lowest oxygen level was 73%. Normal levels should be 95-100%.  Anything below 90% is considered being in respiratory distress. My doctor was amazed that I hadn't had a heart attack or a stroke in my sleep. He also was amazed that I could function during the day after having been deprived of oxygen all night long night after night. Is "functioning" what this is called? If he only knew how much I was struggling just to put one foot in front of the other!

When I received my new CPAP machine, I used the machine that night and every night since then...NO MORE EXCUSES! Those stats scared me enough to make me realize that I was asking for trouble and it wasn't the kind of trouble I wanted. Yes, this CPAP is equipped with a humidifier so it works without making my nasal passages feel like they're on fire.  I selected a mask that felt comfortable to me to wear.  I knew that was important. This machine isn't loud so it doesn't sound like a jack hammer next to my head. When I put the mask on that first night I actually told myself OUT LOUD that I was going to wear the mask ALL night long and that I wasn't going to take it off unless I has to get up to use the bathroom. When I woke up the next morning, my mask was still on and I felt like I had accomplished an amazing feat. It wasn't long before I noticed I started feeling better.  I had more energy and I wasn't tired all the time. From there on out whenever I would lay down whether it was to take a nap during the day or to watch television in the evening in my bedroom, I would put my CPAP on just in case I would fall asleep.

The moral of this story is if you're diagnosed with sleep apnea, take it seriously. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself get used to using your machine. And most important, be compliant and use your machine faithfully.  Sleep apnea does kill people. Don't be stupid and be one of those people who turn into a statistic.

Yes, I have a dog that does this to me. It's such a wonderful way to wake up from a sound sleep! She usually sleeps in her dog bed, but when she's gassy she likes to sleep on the floor right next to my night stand and well, if you've ever had the pleasure of smelling a dog fart, then you can only imagine what one funneled directly into your nose while you're sound asleep would be like. I jump up using some really bad language and Libby heads upstairs quickly and then turns around at the top of the stairs and looks at me like as if to say, "you need to chill out, lady! It's only a little gas!"

A CRACK IN MY WHEEL BARROW

The birds were squawking at me as soon as I let the dogs out at 6am. They wanted to be fed. That meant I needed to go get 60lbs of bird seed out of the trunk of my car. I debated whether or not to go get dressed first because it had rained in the night and trudging through the wet grass and cleaning out the feeders would probably get messy. But I opted to stay as is and get wet. Getting wet is always fun. Right?

Part way through the task, two of my dogs wanted to go back in the house because they do not like the humidity. The other dog seems resistant to the presence of humidity and will stay outside all day with me.  He's my little helper! It's a shame I can't teach him how to prune shrubbery and do other outside tasks. We have detailed conversations about the plants, the birds and other happenings in the yard. After finishing up with the birds, I decided I'm going to start working on my next rock statue. In order to do this, I need to make a trip to Lowe's to purchase a new wheel barrow. My old one has had a nervous breakdown. It's been fixed so many times, it's gotten way beyond repair and can't haul heavy rocks in it. I could carry them, but I'd rather save my back and let a wheel barrow do the work.

I went in the house to clean up a bit and to ask my son to accompany me to Lowe's.  I knew which wheel barrow I wanted so the trip would be a short one. They have them lined up right outside the front of the store so all I needed to do is go inside and pay for one and a clerk will come out and unlock the chain and I can get my wheelbarrow and we can go. When we first got there, we looked at the wheel barrow I wanted and we discussed whether or not we thought it would fit in the car. We both thought it would, so off we went to purchase it. The line wasn't too brutal...everyone was wearing masks. The sun was out and Sunday looked like it was going to be a wonderful day.

I finally get up to the register, I pay for the wheel barrow, the clerk meets us outside and we can't get it in the car. Nope! It's not going to fit anyway we try it. I asked my son to go inside to see if they have one unassembled we can bring home and put together ourselves. While he's inside I'm standing there looking at the wheel barrow and this gentleman walks over to me and asks me if I need help putting the wheel barrow in my car. I look up at him and I almost fell over. There before me is this tall, handsome older man with the bluest eyes I've ever seen. I smiled at him and told him that my son and I had already tried numerous ways to get it in the car and it wouldn't fit. He asked me how far I lived from Lowe's. I told him that I only lived about 5 minutes away. He then offered the use of his truck if we trusted him. He said we could take a photo of his tag on his truck. I couldn't believe that people still helped one another out like that. He almost renewed my faith in humanity just in that small gesture of kindness.

Okay now, that I have your attention! All that really did happen except it wasn't a tall, good-looking older gentlemen who came over to me. In my dreams!!! SIGH!!! It was a couple and they were so nice. I really was amazed at their generosity. They put my wheel barrow on the back of their truck and brought it to my house. My son tried to pay them, but they refused. To pay it forward, we figured we would find some charity and donate some money to it. I think I'd like to donate to an animal charity. Maybe I'll ask my vet when I bring my Shih Tzu for blood work this week if they know of a local rescue place or something that needs a donation. I just hate giving money to places that don't use the money for the cause.

Anyway, so as soon as we get the wheel barrow unloaded, we load it up with the rocks I'm going to use for my statue and take the load to the spot in the backyard I want to build the statue. Then we go get the other load. In the process of doing this I find a two huge colonies of fire ants. I had my yard treated about 3 weeks ago for fire ants and it's supposed to be good for one year. I make a mental note to call Florida Pest Control in the morning and get them back out here.  After all, the treatment was rather pricey and it's guaranteed for one year. The wheel barrow I chose was one of those wheel barrows with two wheels and the bed is made of some kind of hard durable plastic.  I figured for what I would be using it for in my yard it would be fine. Oh Mildred, you need to just stop thinking and when you do think, do the complete opposite.

My son started tossing the rocks (some of them are really large) into the wheel barrow before I could tell him to take it easy that it isn't made of metal. The next thing I know the base of the wheel barrow had a large crack in it. Oops! I ended up having to call Lowe's and had to set up a date to have them come pick up this wheel barrow and have them issue me a refund, then I had to buy a new wheel barrow that is made of metal and pay a hefty delivery fee that is as much as what the wheel barrow costs. So when they come to pick up the the "old" wheel barrow, they'll bring me my new wheel barrow and all this is supposed to happen on the 30th.

Hallelujah! I'm having a Wheel Barrow Party on the 30th. I'm going to get drunk and sleep in my new wheel barrow or better yet, I'm going to get stoned and sleep in my new wheel barrow.  Or maybe I'll get drunk and stoned and maybe some tall, handsome older gentleman will wheel me off somewhere...but, ONLY if he has a toolbelt and a truck and he knows how to use his tools! The S.O.B. better know how to use his tools or else he's outta here... Mildred isn't fooling around!

THE FACE OF A KILLER

My little 12 lb. doodle (dachshund/poodle mix) is a total love bug. The first thing he does whenever anyone comes to my house is brings them one of his toys so they can play with him. He loves to play fetch. Now, if the person doesn't follow his lead then he starts coaxing the person by "talking" to them by making his cute noises until the person pays attention. Hey, wake up! You're in my house and there's certain rules one must abide by in this house and playing with the doodle is one of them. It's mandatory.

His name is B.A. which doesn't mean anything. B. A. = Be Anything, but after the other night I think it needs to stand for BADASS.  My Shih Tzu, Fenway is the Queen and the alpha dog of the house. She runs the roost.  Fenway weighs about 16 lbs. Libby is a Dandie Dinmont Terrier and she weighs about 16 lbs. Although Fenway runs the roosts, she doesn't have what I would say is an aggressive personality. She's just bossy! Libby is generally pretty laid back until she's provoked or agitated and then she becomes very aggressive. 

One of the first things a person notices when they come here is the amount of toys my dogs have, but the toys aren't for my dogs. They belong to B.A.!!! You see, if B.A. didn't have those toys to chew on, we wouldn't have a house. When he was younger, he chewed everything! And when I say everything. I mean EVERYTHING! He ate my box spring to my bed. He ate the living room carpet. He ate countless comforters on my bed. He ate eyeglasses. He ate my mother's false teeth. He ate furniture like he was a beaver. The question should be what didn't he eat?  He doesn't do that stuff now, but he has his toys to chew on and he "husks" his toys.  By husking them I mean he pulls all the stuffing and the squeakers out of them. And once he husks them we can't throw them away. So we have a toy box filled with toys in various stages of being destroyed, but to B.A. they're still great. He still drags them around like they're brand new.

One of B.A.'s duties is to protect the house and the yard and he takes that job very seriously. He has no idea that he's only a 12 pound lean mean fighting machine. Each time he goes outside he patrols the backyard and the inside of the garage. It's really funny to watch him follow the same route each time.  He goes in back of each bush and sniffs everything all over. Nothing happens in the yard that he doesn't know about. He's on top of everything! Once he killed a mole and brought it inside for us to praise him. When we tried to take it away from him he took it under the bed. Yuck! He doesn't bother the birds or squirrels and that surprises me. But I think that may be because he sees me interact with them. Libby chases the squirrels, but they're too quick for her to catch. Fenway wouldn't care if an elephant was standing in the middle of the yard, but she will bark if she hears a dog down the street barking. She wants them to know where the queen lives. I suppose in their own way they do their jobs and that's what they're supposed to do.

The other evening after dinner I took all three dogs. I go out with them even though I do have a large fenced backyard. Before we knew it Libby and B.A. had cornered a raccoon, and then B. A. got it and killed it. I tried my best to intercede and tried to get B.A. to release the raccoon, but he wouldn't let go of it. He had a death grip on it and kept shaking it. By the time he did let go, it was dead. The other racoon kept trying to crawl up my pant leg because it was terrorized. I finally got it to leave before Libby noticed it and I hope it got scared enough to not come back in the yard again.

What freaked me out was how ferocious B.A. was. He's only 12 pounds...he kills rats, he kills moles. Who knows what else he kills. I know he runs off feral cats, but I think he'd have his hands full with a feral cat if he got in a fight with one. I realized once I started feeding the birds, the birdseed would attract other creatures, but I don't want a whole zoo in my yard and I definitely don't want my dogs fighting with wild animals. Sigh! I guess I need to start paying closer attention to what's happening outside in the menagerie before I let the killer hounds outside at dusk.

And I still feel horrible about the raccoon...
I'm an animal lover
Well, I don't love rats and stuff like that, but raccoons are cute.
And I know B.A. was only doing what his instinct told him to do, but it still made me feel bad...