I fell through the ice

The weather has been up and down lately, cold, warm, snow, rain, etc., you really never know what to wear when you leave the house. However this past Tuesday, the weather was warm enough that I decided to wear my running shoes to the dog park. Now when I say warm enough, I mean around 1° Celsius, 34° Fahrenheit for my American followers, Canadians will leave the hat and mittens at home, put on the running shoes instead of winter boots, and leave our coat zipper down. The ground was still frozen, so I wasn’t worried about muddy shoes or paws.

The dogs were running here and there, well Cocoa was mostly walking beside me, until he would see another dog that he decided was a threat to Bear. Cocoa is Bear’s bodyguard, which is quite funny, being that Cocoa is half the size of him, and certainly cannot run anywhere near as fast as Bear can. Cocoa also doesn’t really understand Bear play fighting with other dogs, he thinks Bear is being hurt, so he is right there to defend him.

We rarely take more than two walks around the entire dog park because of Cocoa’s arthritis, and of course mine. Lately we haven’t been doing the usual circle because this leash free dog park is prone to flooding, so there is a lot of water on the ground after the snow melts. Then of course the ground freezes again, leaving ice everywhere. On this particular day, I saw the dogs running across the ice so I figured it would hold me too. Ha! (Afterthought: the combined weight of Bear and Cocoa is less than what I weigh).

I put my one foot on the ice, it holds, I put my other foot on the ice, and then I start to hear the cracks. (Now before I scare the heck out of my readers, this is a very, very small creek that I am crossing, most could run and hop over it, but I can’t; it is also only a foot or so deep). My right foot falls through the ice, seconds later left goes under. My right is wet up to the middle of my shin, whereas the left is only wet up to my ankle. I easily pull my right up out of the ice, but my left is more difficult. The ice is broken like shards of glass, and they are poking into my ankle. Thankfully my thick sock and jeans are protecting my ankle from being cut. I finally get my foot out of the water, but both my feet are now frozen solid. The walk is over, and I’m off home to warm up.

Note to self: next time remember the dogs are lighter than I.

My life with chronic pain, dogs, and Master Baking

Life has been a roller coaster of pain lately, with Bursitis now in my hip, sitting, which was already quite difficult for any length of time, is now almost impossible for more than a few minutes without having to take more medication. It has left me quite depressed, not really wanting to do anything.

Making life more painful, has been my insistence on taking the dogs for a walk in the dog park (though I have lost quite a bit of weight which is a bonus). It was not too bad walking on the snow, but then it melted, and refroze. Left were deep ruts in the ice, making it extremely hard, and actually dangerous to walk on, yet I did, then paid for it with having to lay on the couch covered in ice pads and heating pads.

A couple of weeks ago, we had the pleasure of both middle child and the young man home for six days. Each were on spring break at the same time. It was wonderful to have them home but then reality set it…laundry, the tank of gas that lasts a month for hubby and I now vanished. It seems I have become used to the empty nest, the quietness, and my own slow but steady routine. With the kids home, I was reminded how there was no food in the refrigerator when actually there was, but nothing to their liking. How I now had to buy skim milk for the young man, almond milk for middle child, numerous juices, since one container seemed to disappear in a day.

Then they left and what happened? I missed them. It was about a week after they left that the young man Skyped with his mom and dad. He doesn’t Skype very often since his internet connection is not very stable. The conversation was awesome, but I was very tired, and with exhaustion comes fibro brain, meaning I mess up words, can’t find the words I need to complete a sentence, or I mispronounce. As I was explaining to the young man, how I made English muffins, he didn’t really seem to care because as he told me, he doesn’t like English muffins, and will therefore never make them. The next thing that happens is I ask why he doesn’t want to be “Master Baking”, and both he and my husband break out in laughter. I’m lost, until they explain that it sounded as if I had said I wanted him to become, like his mom “Master” at “Masturbation”. Personally I didn’t see it, but they laughed and laughed. Conclusion, mom should not have conversations when she is tired.

It’s been over two years since my husband starting renovating the bathroom. Well, actually it was my idea, and the eldest daughter said she would do most of the work but then she started working. The bathroom was left a mess, and it was now up to my husband to finish what we had started.  I wanted subway tiles to cover all the walls, so after much disagreement, and me holding out for my design, hubby finally relented and the tiling began. It took well over a thousand tiles to cover all the walls, before he finished. The grouting was done, fixtures were put back in place. We still have to decide how the shelves will be done. More tiling, wallpaper, or paint? This decision may take another few months. Thankfully we have the upstairs bathroom for showers. We can still use the sink and toilet in the bathroom, but there is no towel rack, so towels are just thrown here and there after washing one’s hands.

This has been my life lately.

She likes to switch it up

If you follow my blog you know that our eldest daughter moved out of the house this past November (insert mom tears). The first few months were fine, she would phone me each day, and we’d chat about what we were going to do, how her job search was going, and anything else that came to mind. Well, doesn’t she go out and get herself a full-time job about a month ago!

Gone are the daily phone calls to mom (insert tears again). Instead I may get a phone call a couple of times during the week. Why? Because she now phones her dad! I asked her why she was no longer phoning me each day to chat, her answer “I like to switch it up”. You thought with the title of this post I was going to write about sex didn’t you? I guess I could say I like to be on top occasionally (inserts laughter).

Now hubby puts everyone he talks to on speaker phone, making it easy for me to listen in. The problem is I then want to ask questions? I realize I am eavesdropping on the phone call, but he has it on speaker, so I think this is fair game for me.

Well there he is listening to her tell a story, and I am yelling questions from the other room, but I’m generally being ignored, and apparently interrupting their conversation (I have very good lungs, so even though the phone is in another room, my daughter can clearly hear what I am saying, this comes from years of yelling at my kids to do their chores).

Next thing I notice, he has taken her off speaker phone and he has gone downstairs. I can no longer hear what she is saying, I only hear his voice which doesn’t give me much. Thus I am doomed to wait for my phone call.