Day 148 of 365

In 1984:

• Ronald Reagan was president.
• The Space Shuttle Discovery had its maiden voyage.
• A gallon of gas was $1.21.
• The movies Terminator and Sixteen Candles came out.
• The PG-13 rating was introduced.
• The Cosby Show started.

On this day in 1984 I was just barely 19 years old. Both of us were in college but working during the summer. I had long fingernails and he had a curly perm. I had an ugly lime green 1970 Ford Maverick with four brand new tires. We had not much else.

No credit cards, no microwave, hardly any furniture, a small black and white TV, and only one telephone.

But we had a wedding on this day. A dress, a rented white tux, and a church. Flowers from my in-laws garden. And a potluck at their house for our reception.

27 years ago today, I married the man I met in the Boise State University Library during finals week. The man who kept coughing as I was studying for my first semester of college finals. The man who, every few minutes, had some "jock" coming over to talk to him. The man who was distracting me from my studies for what seemed like forever, yet came over before he left and said to a then 17 year old girl (me), "Excuse me miss, sorry for coughing."

Every year on our anniversary we do something special. A vacation somewhere, dinner out, gifts, or special dinner in.

But not today. My husband is at his latest conference this week and won't be home. He called me on his lunch break, but the celebration will wait. After 27 years, celebrations for anniversaries aren't what they used to be anyway.

How did I spend my day? In the sewing room and in the gardens, of course. (As if I haven't mentioned it enough lately, I'm getting tired of putting up with my back. I still - even after all I've done - can't work but a few minutes before it gives out. Grrr!)

On a more pleasant note, I did manage to capture a picture of the rose named Evelyn.

Day 147 of 365

I possess a multi-generational button collection.

I didn't start collecting buttons on purpose. I got some of my grandmother's buttons after she passed away, some of my mom's when she got rid of all her sewing and craft things, and I had some of my own.

When my daughter was little I used to make many of her clothes. Wild looking outfits with matching tops and bottoms. Stars, stripes, polka dots, all in bright colors. I purchased many a button thinking I'd use it for an outfit. But as I quickly learned, elastic in pants for a three year old was a better alternative.

I also have other buttons I've saved. When we buy an article of clothing and an extra button comes with it, I add it to my collection. (I even save the tiny bag the button comes in.) Old, ratty shirts that can no longer be used? I cut the buttons off and keep them. Pajamas that have seen better days? Keep those buttons.

I've used up some of the buttons I had purchased. I made my daughter a sweatshirt covered in a few dozen big, bright, bold buttons. I've even made a little wall quilt called, "Button, Button" that is covered in...buttons.

All those extra buttons have come in extremely handy. More than a few times we've lost buttons off of clothing and I just so happen to have one close enough to pass for the original. And those buttons have come in extremely, extremely, handy for the Turtle Pillows. 46 buttons are needed, in matching pairs. For each pillow, I'm trying to find just the right color button. For the most part I've been using black, but am starting to branch out into different colors.

Except all those buttons - Grandma's, Mom's, my purchased ones, and my don't throw it away, let's keep it ones are all mixed together in a big container. Which makes it hard to find a matching pair. For years every time I've needed a button, I dig through the box. Again, and again, and again, until I find a matching set.

It wastes a lot of time. And with school looming on the horizon my time is becoming sacred. To hasten the turtle production, I finally took the time out to organize the buttons. Now I can find the colors I want without pouring through thousands of buttons. And I've even matched up quite a few. I knew those little button bags would come in handy some day!

Anyone need white buttons? I think I have more than enough for a lifetime.

Decorating Ladybug and Beehive Sugar Cookies - Day 146 of 365, Tutorial Tuesday

I got to go out to lunch again today.

When I was working, I taught (and later had an office) right next to a gal from work. Every time the school year ended, we talked about meeting up in the summer to do something. And for the 10+ years we worked right next door to each other, we never did.

But this summer has been different.

We've met for lunch on Day 114 when I talked her ear off. We went to the movies (or the show, as she calls it) on Day 127.

Day 127 was when I had the torturous conversation with myself about making her some decorated sugar cookies. I never did make them, knowing that I would eat my fair share. It wound up not making a difference, as I went and picked up some ice cream/candy concoction that same day and wound up eating it without even realizing it.

So now today on Day 146 I met her for lunch (she was buying as a birthday present). This time I brought her some sugar cookies. I bravely faced my fears of sugar and plowed forward.

Today's picture is the cookies I delivered.

But wait - there's a bonus!

I made a video tutorial on how to decorate them. Take a look...

Day 145 of 365

As I sat in the waiting room of the Pain Clinic this morning, I was thinking I didn't belong there. This was my second visit and again I noticed there are two types of people who go there.

The first kind are folks who look like, well... look like they're on drugs. Eyes heavy, slurred speech, unsteady while walking, unkempt. While waiting for my appointment at 9:30, I listened as a gal was explaining to the receptionist how she needed her morphine and how she couldn't wait until her 2:15 appointment to get it. Explained she was taking other pain killers but they weren't working like morphine did. How she needed to get in sooner so she could get her morphine sooner. I got the impression by listening and watching the receptionist during the conversation that this happens quite often.

The other folks there are too happy, talking non-stop to other patients and staff. At most doctors offices, people for the most part keep to themselves. But both times I've been at this particular place, strangers are striking up conversations (and they're not quiet about it) left and right. Who comes to a pain clinic, all chipper and hyper? People on drugs.

This isn't a pain clinic in some strip mall - it's in a reputable hospital in Boise. There I sat, no pain pills in my system, wondering if I'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.  Which group of people would I fall into after this appointment?

As it turned out, neither group. The MRI results the doctor was waiting on never arrived. He did find some notes about the MRI from my previous doctor, but now this pain clinic doctor has decided he wants a new MRI.

So now I'll wait on insurance approval, try and fit an MRI in between my work schedule, and go back to the clinic in a few weeks. More waiting without relief.

To add insult to injury, I received two bills from my last visit to the pain clinic. My doctor's copay had already been paid, but the additional bill was from the clinic itself. I was charged a $75 "facility usage fee" for use of the clinic. Insurance paid most, but it looks like every visit I'll have to be paying my copay to the doctor and a fee to the clinic. Never heard of such a thing.

I'm this close (imagine my thumb and forefinger almost touching) to calling it all off. But having updated MRI results would be helpful. I just don't know how helpful it is to keep dragging this out.

On a more pleasant note, this afternoon I wasn't dragging things out but digging things up.

Some new red potatoes from our garden.

Day 144 of 365

As I was sewing up some more Turtle Pillows (like the one I did on Day 132) for Paul Newman's Hole in the Wall Camp, I was thinking it would sure be nice if someone around here could help me out with them.

It's not that I'm lazy. And I love sewing, so it's not that. It's that they take so darned long to make one. And I'm making 23 of them.

With all the baby quilts, I can use my rotary cutter to cut the blocks, sew block after block assembly line style, keep a straight stitch running, and not have to change thread colors.

But with these turtles...
*the shapes have to be cut by hand.
*all the seams are curved.
*some steps require basting.
*pinning is required with every step.
*pressing is required with each step.
*three different fabrics are being used for each one.
*each different fabric requires different colored thread for the top-stitching.
*buttons have to be sewn on for the eyes.
*black "toes" have to be sewn in.

Not hard, not beyond what I can do, but time consuming when multiplied by 23. I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

It would be nice to have someone around to help out. My husband helped me do some pressing, but quickly bored of it. (And made it clear he wasn't interested in any pinning or sewing or cutting.) And my daughter? Well, sewing isn't her thing. I helped her make a rag quilt years ago (which gave me hope for the future), but she hasn't been interested in making another one. She made a fall-themed quilted square for her apartment wall with the intention of making one for each season, but it never happened. Her fall-themed one is now still on her wall in July.

So it got me thinking - since I don't know anyone around me that sews or quilts, I do know someone who I can force to help me. I think.

This person has plenty of time on her hands. She owns a sewing machine. She's done a couple fleece blankets over the past year. She used to sew baby clothes for me. And she's moving back to Idaho this week.

That would be my mom. She doesn't know it yet (she does now since she's reading it right here), but she's going to have to come over to my house and help me with some of my charity projects.

It'll be good for her. And it'll be good for me to have someone helping out.

I'm hoping I'll get the turtles done before she shows up, though. Five more done today, 17 more to go.

Day 143 of 365

It occurred to me as I was swimming in the pool the other day that life as I know it is about to change.

In the next two weeks:
*I have to go back to the pain clinic and decide if pain meds are the answer.
*My mom is leaving California and moving back here. And moving into the apartment with my daughter.
*I go back to the gastroenterologist and find out if surgery is forthcoming. (I don't think so.)
*I go back to work.

Amidst all that,
*My husband is going away to a conference for a week.
*He has a birthday.
*We celebrate our 27th wedding anniversary.

When I was swimming in that pool, I realized it probably was the last time I would get some freedom. The last time I could truly relax.

Summer is over, school is beginning.

And I'm still not sure how I feel about that. As much as I've been living day to day, I'm afraid I'm starting to think too much about the future.

Not intentionally. It's happening in my dreams again, just like on Day 54. Bad dreams about not getting enough done at work, not thinking things through and making mistakes at work. Dreams about forgetting all this personal growth work I've done in the last few months.

In my most recent dream I was telling someone that as soon as I think about school/work, I get a knot in my stomach.

It may have been a dream, but the more I think about it, the more I realize it's true.

I feel it happening already. After several rounds of work-related phone calls and e-mails this past week, I feel the knot in the stomach starting.

Spending today in the gardens and in the sewing room helped untie the knot, especially when we came across this.

Our first green bell pepper of the season.

Day 142 of 365

I don't like to drive. Highly dislike it.

I don't remember it always being that way. Don't remember feeling that way when I got my license, but I think it happened soon after we were married.

Since my husband doesn't drive - and never has - I take him everywhere. Every doctor's appointment, every meeting, every athletic event. Any time he leaves the house, I'm the one driving him.

It doesn't help that we live in a small town without stores around.

Grocery store, Target, Walgreens, Home Depot, McDonald's, movie theater? Almost 20 miles. Doctor's office? Up to 40 miles, depending on the doctor.

When I was a stay at home wife, first pregnant and terribly sick, I had to drive him several miles to work. I clearly remember heaving in the driveway as he waited for me to get in the car and get driving so he wouldn't be late for work.

When I had internal bleeding with my first ectopic pregnancy and had to get to the hospital ASAP, I drove myself.

There have been times I've had to drive him 45 miles to a conference, turn around and drive the 45 miles back, then another 10 miles so I can get to work before 7:30 AM.

I've driven every family vacation. 10 hours to the Oregon Coast, only to have to lie down and close my eyes from having such a headache. When we've traveled, my husband and daughter have gone to dinner without me more times than I can count.

27 years of being the sole driver and chauffeur for two different people (three if you count my daughter) wears on a person.

But on the trip we took this week, my daughter helped out with the driving. I was shocked at the difference it makes when someone else is driving. Usually driving long hours with no one to relieve me is so exhausting, but being a passenger for a bit of the time was sure a nice respite.

And I found out what it is like to be a sightseer.

Exercise update: 96 consecutive days. No bike mileage report - it plummeted because several days were spent swimming instead.