Life on the Kennebec
Saturday, March 20th, 2004 10:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rolanniI see that Mozart has left me a memo: I'm to explain that the Kennebec River is named after his birth cattery, down in Pittsburgh, PA. The Kennebec Coon Cattery is owned and operated by the most excellent Kathy and Jack Robinson and their daughter, Linda. They are, as you can see, *very* influential people, to have gotten a river named after their enterprise. Pictures of Mozart (and his buddy, Scrabble) can be viewed with the appropriate awe and respect at http://www.korval.com/bloorue/newkits.html
***
So, yesterday, after doing the gym thing, I needed to pick up a couple items at the CVS. It was a warmish day -- right around 30 degrees F according to the display on the bank at the top of Main Street -- and I was wearing my waterproof, fleece-lined vest over a long-sleeved denim shirt. The vest in question has a deep zippered pocket in the front, and I'd clipped an Embiid I Dare button to the zipper pull some time back and forgotten about it.
For those who have not seen the Embiid button, it features a portrait of Pat Rin yos'Phelium, holding a gun (you can go *here* if you like -- http://www.korval.com/coming04.htm -- scroll down to the Embiid pubs and take a look at the cover).
I finish my shopping and go to stand in line, and the -- dare I say? -- older lady behind me, who has on her winter coat with a big photo-button of the grandkids on her lapel says to me, "Oh! Is that your husband?"
I blink at her, since Steve is at home, and she points to the button on the zipper. I look down into Pat Rin's grim, pretty face, and then back to the beaming, pleased lady.
"Sort of," I say, and then, thankfully, it's my turn at the register, and I don't have to explain anything else.
***
Today, it's blue and warm outside -- 36 degrees F already! Almost all of the snow is gone, more's the pity, and I'd really like to get in the car and motor over to Belfast for lunch. Duty calls, however. Steve is doing his thing with _Crystal Soldier_, and me -- no, the story *didn't* get finished last night, dadrabbit, though I did a good, solid 1,080 words. Maybe today. It would be *good* if I could finish it up today, then I could take a day off tomorrow and, oh, I dunno, read a book or something. Someone *else's* book, to kinda clear my palate before I go back through the story and tweak it.
***
Boring health stuff
The last year was kinda rocky, health-wise; we had the scare with Steve's eye as well as the on-going blood tests and reformatting of diets and whatnot in order to achieve Good Numbers on his cholesterol. Seems like all that is now under control -- though we could probably still both stand to lose another five pounds -- for which we all say hurray.
On my side, being a Lady of Certain Age, I was taken off of drugs that had made life very good for the last eight or ten years. Losing the drugs was...interesting. I found I couldn't focus, that I was extremely irritable, even frantic, that I had lost my sense of smell, and was actually, literally, falling asleep in my chair while I was trying to write. Written production dropped to almost nothing; in fact, written production became an endurance contest -- I'd write a sentence, nod off, wake up, write another sentence, maybe two. It was horrible, not to mince words, and finally became scary enough that I called the doctor and wailed.
This strategy gained me Blood Tests and the resulting information that I have hypothyroidism. Little white pills were prescribed and another Blood Test mandated in six weeks. The six-week mark was passed yesterday, and supposedly the paperwork for the lab is in the mail. Hopefully next week, I'll be able to get the tests and we'll see if the medicine needs to be tweaked. I am *much* improved. I no longer fall asleep in my chair, I'm calm, my memory is -- better, though not up to what I consider par -- I can *smell things* (on the down-side, I have dreams, which have for all of my life been unusual, but I'll deal with it). What a difference a little white pill makes...
***
I'm outta here.
Sharon
***
So, yesterday, after doing the gym thing, I needed to pick up a couple items at the CVS. It was a warmish day -- right around 30 degrees F according to the display on the bank at the top of Main Street -- and I was wearing my waterproof, fleece-lined vest over a long-sleeved denim shirt. The vest in question has a deep zippered pocket in the front, and I'd clipped an Embiid I Dare button to the zipper pull some time back and forgotten about it.
For those who have not seen the Embiid button, it features a portrait of Pat Rin yos'Phelium, holding a gun (you can go *here* if you like -- http://www.korval.com/coming04.htm -- scroll down to the Embiid pubs and take a look at the cover).
I finish my shopping and go to stand in line, and the -- dare I say? -- older lady behind me, who has on her winter coat with a big photo-button of the grandkids on her lapel says to me, "Oh! Is that your husband?"
I blink at her, since Steve is at home, and she points to the button on the zipper. I look down into Pat Rin's grim, pretty face, and then back to the beaming, pleased lady.
"Sort of," I say, and then, thankfully, it's my turn at the register, and I don't have to explain anything else.
***
Today, it's blue and warm outside -- 36 degrees F already! Almost all of the snow is gone, more's the pity, and I'd really like to get in the car and motor over to Belfast for lunch. Duty calls, however. Steve is doing his thing with _Crystal Soldier_, and me -- no, the story *didn't* get finished last night, dadrabbit, though I did a good, solid 1,080 words. Maybe today. It would be *good* if I could finish it up today, then I could take a day off tomorrow and, oh, I dunno, read a book or something. Someone *else's* book, to kinda clear my palate before I go back through the story and tweak it.
***
Boring health stuff
The last year was kinda rocky, health-wise; we had the scare with Steve's eye as well as the on-going blood tests and reformatting of diets and whatnot in order to achieve Good Numbers on his cholesterol. Seems like all that is now under control -- though we could probably still both stand to lose another five pounds -- for which we all say hurray.
On my side, being a Lady of Certain Age, I was taken off of drugs that had made life very good for the last eight or ten years. Losing the drugs was...interesting. I found I couldn't focus, that I was extremely irritable, even frantic, that I had lost my sense of smell, and was actually, literally, falling asleep in my chair while I was trying to write. Written production dropped to almost nothing; in fact, written production became an endurance contest -- I'd write a sentence, nod off, wake up, write another sentence, maybe two. It was horrible, not to mince words, and finally became scary enough that I called the doctor and wailed.
This strategy gained me Blood Tests and the resulting information that I have hypothyroidism. Little white pills were prescribed and another Blood Test mandated in six weeks. The six-week mark was passed yesterday, and supposedly the paperwork for the lab is in the mail. Hopefully next week, I'll be able to get the tests and we'll see if the medicine needs to be tweaked. I am *much* improved. I no longer fall asleep in my chair, I'm calm, my memory is -- better, though not up to what I consider par -- I can *smell things* (on the down-side, I have dreams, which have for all of my life been unusual, but I'll deal with it). What a difference a little white pill makes...
***
I'm outta here.
Sharon
