Sunday, December 21, 2014

Mr. Asthma is a creep

Breathless and coughing all day today. No walk for the Buddha. It took all my energy just to go out with him to play my anointed role of She Who Stoops with Plastic Bag.

Mr. Asthma wants to kill me. Not sure what I ever did to him to cause such enmity. This morning about 3 a.m. I thought he was going to get his wish. But  I rallied the troops (nebulizer) and I'm still here. God, do I hurt all over though, and it would be nice to draw a deep breath again.

While nebulizing, I'm watching DVDs from the library about the royal family. Some of them are the usual "Queen Victoria trampled on her young." But the ones of most interest to me are about the tapestries at Windsor and a wonderful documentary showing Prince Charles exploring his family's art talents. Queen Victoria's sketchbooks look wonderful, including so many drawings of her children done when they were young. Interesting to think that such sketches and drawings would be all you had to remember a stage of your child's life back then. No photos. If someone didn't draw or paint your child at two years old, there was no record of what he looked like then except in your mind. Lots of people, including Victoria, would sketch or paint Prince Albert/Edward VII as a two year old. But that's not something your average child would experience, unless someone in its family was an artist. It seems like, based on these documentaries, that photos of Victoria's family started when the older children were young adults. They all look grim. I wonder if the historians would talk so much about their unhappy lives if the photography of that era didn't require such long exposures so that every subject looks grim and stern. It gives a false impression of people from that era. They must have smiled sometimes.

I am very short on money due to healthcare bills, so it will be a spare Christmas. Just me and the dog, of course. I had hoped to order myself some silent films on DVD and there's a company that has Eve of St Mark's, an early Vincent Price movie, on DVD, but the money's just not there. I think I'm going to treat myself to the makings for grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup and have them on the day. 

Gosh, it hurts to move. It feels like I've been pounded on with mallets. 

Saturday, December 20, 2014


My dog think it's perfectly normal for me to come over to him on the couch with a treat when he's done absolutely nothing to be rewarded for. I mean, he's just been flopped on the couch, minding his own business, not even looking at me, and I walk over with a treat. Because he's beautiful. Because his pricked ears are so beautiful. Because he's such a beautiful light brown with even lighter brown highlights you don't see unless the sunlight is right. AKC, with its usual strangeness re color names, would describe him as red with dark mask. But he's not red. He's a beautiful golden brown. And so I walk over and give him a treat because he's beautiful and it pleases me to look at him.

He takes this all for granted, of course. It's interesting that this is part of the world that I have created for him. A world in which treats just happen when you're flopped on the couch doing nothing.

There are times when we're playing the find it game or working on something and then treats are earned. 

But then there's the tip of the knife covered in cream cheese delivered to him for no reason and held just right so he can lick both sides. 

I feed him about a 1.5 cups/1.75 cups per day of Taste of the Wild, Canidae, or similar good dry dog food. Split into two meals. That's all. Most people feed their 55 lb. dogs more than that. I've been told by many dog owners and one vet that I don't feed him enough. But it's plenty. He's lean and in good shape. He's 8 1/2 now.

And it means that I can hand deliver to him treats for just being beautiful and don't have to count the calories.
The last time I was at the vet, Buddha was the only dog in the waiting room who wasn't fat. There was even a fat cat. People look at me and I think they assume my dog would be fat, too. Nope.

Whenever I get crackers with soup or a fortune cookie, I put them in the back of the car where Buddha travels so that the next time he's in the car there's a treat for him. I'm sure he takes it for granted. Don't you think it's a nice world for him? Treats just walk over to him? Fortune cookies just grow in the car?

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Today's malapropism

In a conference call, one of the attendees said she was having trouble getting all the way through a very long document from the government because it had so much duplicity. 

She meant duplication. 

My second favorite malapropism this year was a spreadsheet for a project which listed tasks for the team members. Under my name was "Illicit information."

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

I mailed some Christmas cards

I included a Christmas letter in which I made an effort to sound pleasant. I've never done a Christmas letter before. I don't know why I did one now. 

Monday, December 8, 2014


I had another bout of the ice cold feet, ice cold hands, shivering, headache, can't get warm. So it was an interrupted, rough night. I made it to work today, but I feel like I've spent 24 hours on the Tilt-a-Whirl. I still find it hard to believe that my thyroid tests all came back normal. I have every symptom listed. But, who knows. I have an electric blanket, but I really don't like it. Even on setting 1 or 2, it seems to dry out the air in the room or something. I feel uncomfortable underneath it. The dog, however, loves it. There's a study that indicated a connection between use of electric blankets and arthritis. It didn't go as far as to claim causation, but the results "warranted further study."

I've given up coffee again. No more stopping at SuperAmerica for 24 oz. big cups for 79 cents. I think it wakes me up, but makes me more anxious overall.

I am trying to count my blessings:  dog is healthy, house is in a safe neighborhood, I have a paycheck....

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Got really sick again, but today is better

Only missed half a day of work, officially, although I was good for nothing on Friday. I have now added Fleet Farm's Gas Mart to my list of Gas Station Restrooms I have Puked In.