The curse of the working class

Back to work. One day is tolerable. Four more to go. Thankfully, no evening activities this week. That will help. I came home from work and watered the gardens and fixed dinner and ironed two shirts and it was 7 p.m. What happened to the day? No wonder I don[t get anything done during the work week. And gee, if you thought the conuncdrums during recuperations were mundane, imagine the inspirations that will hit me now. I turned in three prayer shawls - one baby and two adult. Sounds like an accomplishment but they were all started at prostatectomy time. Nineteen months is a bit long, when I have completed one prayer shawl in a matter of weeks in the past. Knitting is a better winter activity than one for summer. Painting is good in summer because of daylight, but necessitates air conditioning and longer duration of odor in a closed up house. A friend recently told me blogging is passee. NPR opined this morning on the way back to the grind that blogging is a good way to keep people informed and has become a regular tool of the intelligentsia. OK, I'll claim that one. I have decided as I am skating toward my sixth decade that being part of the elite is a good thing. Call me liberal elite. I claim it! I extol it! I celebrate it! I sing the body electric! What? Walt Whitman? Blogging is more fun than work. I just wonder if it is at least a bit amusing to those who avail themselves. Y'all don't say much! But I'll continue to prognosticate and prevaricate and proffer conundrums until I feel no point to it. Meanwhile, keep on reading! Check back occasionally. You just never know what is going to pop up here. Although, it would appear there is a definitely predicatbale pattern. How many shirts do I iron in one day??? Something is wrong. How many dress shirts do I wear in one day? Now here is a conundrum! No, I do NOT iron every day, but I DO wear a shirt every day! Good thing too - too old for that bare-chested young stuff! I better quit before I really get in trouble!!

Downsizing

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single gentleman in posession of his own household must be in want of a maid. No wonder. Old age and work conspire against maintaining a household. I've been home a month and have rid my household of much, yet I swear I could be home another month and remain quite occupied with home improvement and home maintenance. No wonder there is so much to do because so much doesn't get done because of the demands of daily work and daily life. I am ready to make another run to Goodwill, whch will now have to be done one day after work. I already have two contractor bags for the regular trash collection. And there seems to be no end in sight. I wonder if there will ever be a day when ALL the shirts are ironed. Forty hours for the state seems daunting. September 15th seems so far away. Will it bring final release and return to normal? Meanwhile, I must keep the exeunt status of things in my household. This will help keep life somewhat manageable. Except now, there won't be as much time to think about it. However, exeunt is good.

On Curtains & Congress

Some time after I first moved into my house, I found an old orange curtain left by the previous owners in the cabinets in the laundry area. I later learned that the previous owners were heavy smokers and used orange everywhere to hide nicotine stains, and they were not very good housekeepeers. Well, here I am getting rid of things that I have not used, and here in my house lives this old orange curatin. BUT, it will not go to the refuse pile because it is my favorite drop cloth. I cover furniture with disposible plastic but cover the floor with this old orange curtain. It is light enough to easily spread, cover and move, and dense enough to catch splattered paint. So, the old orange curtain stays until I can no longer paint.
Larry King did a show about prostate cancer. I watched to see what he would do. I generally don't like Larry King because I find him too sensational and too mired in Hollywood, as if the rest of the world should care. Anyway, I find it strange to listen to people talk about prostate cancer and have it reported that so many people don't know anything about it. The bsst part of the show was that they named lots of famous men who beat prostate cancer. For me, among siblings, two of three brothers have beat it, so I think we men who are survivors should be telling everyone we know so that everyone will know it IS survivable. However, I do not approve of Scotland sending the terrorist who was serving a life sentence home to Libya. How dumb can you be? Compassionate release? I wonder if the minister in Scotland can say that 270 times. It MUST be about oil, because the humanitarian excuse doesn't appear to cut it. And are we pleased that Tom Ridge is spilling the beans that peresons in the previous administration acted for political gain???? And under which administration has that NOT been true??? Might Congress be able to get something done if just a few of them could get past acting for political gain??? The longer we allow Congress to be ineffective and not perform their constitutional duties, the stronger the argument for term limits for all of them! Back to work on Monday. Come weep with me past hope! Return to work just in time for more furloughs! Yeah, I'll be glad to pay the union for this! Life is just grande.

Raspberry Reward

One of my exercises that I have been doing since my surgery is raspberries - a trip back to childhood. It has become such a commonplace part of my existence that I found myself doing them walking on my way to the grocery store and even walking down the paint aisle at my local Home Depot. It is probably not a good thing for a silver haired man alone to be walking about in public doing raspberries. This could incite countless cutiosities. BUT, today I had another session with the speech therapist and it suddenly became clear to me that my carefully measured vocal recuperation is paying off. From now until September 15, when I see the doctor again, I can do what is called half time speech. That means if I talk for 10 minutes, then I have to rest for 10 minutes. No counting one or two or three minutes out of ten as I have been doing for three weeks now. This next phase is much more natural. AND best of all, my speech sounds more like the same person everyone has known, lo these many years. I have also learned that I can speak mcuh more easily and be heard and understood than I used to. I think teaching and singing opera made me believe I had to use superhuman vocal production that is actually quite unnecessary, especially for a person such as I, who is well-trained in vocal technique. Singing is still weeks away, but the speech part has turned the corner. Celebramos!!!

And he saw all that he had stored...

...and he said unto himself, "Get rid of that stuff!!!" (substitute appropriate expletive) I have a cheap two-drawer file cabinet that I've had since I was in college. The bottom drawer became inoperable and caused problems such as kicking it and even almost tripping over it because it could not be made to close correctly. Now what does a thirty-year-old cheap file cabinet owe me? Nothing. And it gives me expanded floor space in my study. This is a good thing. Tomorrow, the first thing on the agenda is a trip to Goodwill. Tuesday is recycle day and there will be plenty of paper. Thursday is regular trash. It is all backing up. By the time everything has moved on, it will be time to go back to work. Alas! Here I go again... moving things. Ah, but it will be so nice to have less to worry about or even forget about. I found a screen in the basement that belonged to the old basement door that I replaced years ago. I had the door taken away with bulk trash when I had the door replaced. I forgot the screen and stowed the screen away until I needed to look for sometrhing else, and there was this old useless screen in the way. Goodwill, recycle, regular trash, bulk trash, and Carl saw that it was all good... to go!!!

One week - one project

There has been much exchange about my excuse for work. I am to return on August 24th, but the conditions are not clear. This is because the doctor says one things and then the speech therapist says something else and the nurse who wrote the latest excuse wrote something completely different. I called the doctor and talked to the nurse. That was aggravating, as it was if we did not speak the same language. I am to get another note for work, but who knows what it will say and whether or not it will match what I have understood. I am beginning to wonder if I understand what people say to me. The post-surgery experience does not match the pre-surgery explanation that I heard from the doctor. I guess it is a wonder we humans are able to communicate effectively at all. Witness the health care fury on which I already commented.
But one week left at home by most information I have undersstood means I must tackle a home improvement project. I've been sitting in the living room alot lately and noticed it is looking tired. This, of course, calls for paint. Oh, just what I need, excite the old color choice phobia. The reason the living room looks tired is because it is painted in pale greys, one on the walls and an even lighter color on the ceiling, that have reached the point that they simply appear nondescript next to my fabulously bright pink kitchen with my colorful tiled floors. No need for color phobia for the living room as my floors lead the way. The kitchen tiles have slate grey, rust and gold colorations and the hardwood floor in the living room is a darkish red oak color. I have been wanting to do the living room ceiling a darker color, but have been fearsome. Ah, but this is easy. A warm medium grey for the walls, meaning it contains red/brown and a cool medium grey, meaning it contains blue/black for the ceiling. Warm colors on the wall make the room feel warm and cool color on the ceiling means the ceiling won't feel cavelike, even with a darker color than what already exists. Don't forget the stair wall that is slate grey with shades of dark grey. And I found the perfect grey color when I did the windows in my bedroom: Silver Screen, bright cool medium gray. I can repeat a color that I already like, and since it is cool, it will go on the ceiling. That leaves finding a warmer companion color that will complement the pink kitchen and the floors. This is so much easier than anything I've done to date. A walk to Home Depot and the choice is obvious moving from the cool grays to the warmer greys and I land on Ancient Stone which looks prefect with the Musical Mist kitchen color. No need for color choice anxiety. If only getting a doctor's note that says what it needs to say would be so convenient! Maybe I won't go back to work on the 24th! No such luck! Actually, I am enjoying this R & R - not nearly as much pain as the last two surgeries. I only have to wait and see if I will be able to sing again.

Civil Discourse

I cannot believe the discourse of my fellow Americans over this health care mess! People screaming about nothing - what is this country coming to? There is more misinformation than I can ever remember about anything. There isn't even a real bill to consider yet. IT has to be the opposition just wants to make things crazy so that it looks like the controlling party can't get anything done. I am just appalled at the inane things that are said by so many average people, that I have decided there is no shame in being liberal and elite. At least we can speak coherently. Of course, I've always had my bias for intelligence and rationality. I don't think I've ever seen so much irrationality related to one thing. Maybe I need to get out more. But I am truly concerned that average Americans are so stupid. It does not bode well for my own dotage, when my faculties are not as acute as they used to be. And the decline has already begun! It is all just too amazing for words!

Too darn hot

It's the hottest day of the year, so what do I decide to do? Well, prune the roses, of course. I did some weeding last Thursday so I could be ready for speech therapy on Friday. The speech therapist rescued me from the tyranny of living my life in ten minute increments. She explained that the ratio of talking to silence is more important than the timing. I am gradually increasing the amount of time I spend talking and doing speech exercises, wile assuring that my silent periods are sufficiently lengthy in relation to the amount of talking I do. And it is best to avoid talking, but concentrate more on exercises. This is easy, since I am solitary. The roses however were beginning to look unkempt, so they needed pruning. Besides, when things cool down, that will encourage more blooming. Roses like heat, but they bloom better when it is not quite so hot. I have a brand new fig that I just planted this spring in a pot on the balcony and it has figs on it. I can't wait to find out what fresh figs off the tree taste like! My blackberries are gone and I have a few peaches straggling. I also have a few Asian pears and two - count'em - two regular pears - that will be ready later. I hooked up the soaker hose for the shade garden to soak it well in the heat. I think it is psychologoically beneficial to run the water while pruning roses. And isn't a cool shower aftert pruning just the thing?! Maybe I'll settle down with a video and some knitting to veg while I wait for the heat to dissipate as evening falls.

Eleven who went to heaven

The past two days have been lazy days - lacking initiative and subsequent progress to report. However, living in ten minute increments is aggravating. I have speech therapy tomorrow and I need to ask for a more manageable routine. Speech excercise every ten minutes is just not practical - and certainly not related to the way I have to live my life in reality. And might I not have guessed that I finally have an issue with Blue Cross Blue Shield. I pay top dollar so that I don't have to do pre-authorizations and all that mess. Guess what. Pre-authorizations are required for speech therapy. The speech therapist did the pre-authorization and then when they billed the insurance, Blue Cross denied it becausse they said it was not pre-authorized. I spent 50 minutes on the phone with Blue Cross - 46 minutes on hold - only to have them tell me that the information they had was not the same information I had. (I had a copy of the BC/BS approved pre-authorization) So they said I would have to request that the speech therapist would have to contact them, which I did. I can see where this is going to drag on for god-knows how long, and I will have collection agencies after me and all kinds of mess as a souvenir of my vocal cord surgery. All because Blue Cross screwed up. That just infuriates me. I told BLue Cross that I was furious because I pay top dollar precisely to avoid this kind of mess, I have the best policy available in the state, and here they have messed up and I have to sit on the phone, holding for 46 minutes just to find out what is wrong, due to their mistake, and it will haunt me for untold time in the future. Needless to say, my anger will not get me to join the eleven. BTW - it's a counting song, if you haven't figured that out!

Nine bright shiners

OK - on to a different theme other than Genesis. However, who knows the source and the reference? Today is the ninth day. Did anyone notice I skipped eight? At some point I will have to figure yet another numbering scheme, or just abandon anything related to numbers. Today was follow-up. My life for the next month is to be lived in 10-minute increments, consistently increasing the amount of time I can talk. I have to wear a stop watch and time myself so I do not exceed the amount of time I am allowed to speak. Today I begin at one minute out of ten. Over the week-end I can increase it to two minutes, then three etc. until I get to five. Once I get to five minutes of allowed talking, then I can go back to work, which will be on August 24th. I must do speech exercises if I am home alone and not talking at the times I am allowed to talk. Next appointment with the doc is September 15th. Bad news - I may NOT sing before that date. On September 15th, provided I've done my recovery well, the doctor will release me to sing, and that should come back rather quickly. However, I was sternly warned that if I do NOT do a good job on this recovery, I will be hoarse for the rest of my life! Don't you think I am going to be strict and conservative!?!?! MOI? Old age is just more wonderful than anyone will ever let on!!!

And on the seventh day God finished...

... the work that he had done. Now that I've used up Genesis, what do I do for the eighth day? Circumcision?...continuing the Hebrew Biblical vein... Nah, that's old news. Although Paul claims we are neither circumcised nor uncircumcised. Nice talk for the Sabbath, huh? But I know one thing: My mission, should I decide to accept it, which indeed I must, is to get as much stuff out of my house as possible. I have learned that my problem is not with housework, but with keeping everything in the house as it ought to be and I really simply have too much stuff in this really small house. With room renovations every six months lately, I've just moved things from here to there and not kept up with getting rid of things. I have held on to things because I simply don't wear out anything, and it's just plain silly. Why should I keep Granny's towels just because they belonged to her and they don't match anything in the eclectic decor of my house? Now that's going some - no match for anything of the decor of my house when my design philosophy is that nothing should match anywhere in my house. OK - only minimal matching - pairs of curtains on the windows, sheets on the bed - though I have 4 pillows and 2 pillow cases are contrasting to those that match the sheets - and sometimes no pillow cases exactly match the sheets. The trash collectors are going to love me this week. Not only am I emptying at a dizzying rate, but the city changed the collection days and routines. True to form, they did not send a notice. So I have piles that will not make them happy. But now I can't wait until Tuesday when I find out how much longer my silence will last - also, how many more trips to Philadelphia I have to make, and when I might return to work. The drive isn't so terrible, it's paying to park that kills me. I hate to pay to park, and Philadelphia is so expensive. But finding free parking during the day is like finding a needle in a haystack. I'd have to spend a day scouting the area to understand the nuances of parking, and it is quite enough just to visit the doctor. Begrudgingly, I pay. And the tolls... your state government at work! If I don't rack up enough this year for a break on income tax, the system is indeed crooked! Come on Tuesday! And there was evening and there was morning the seventh day.

Let us make humankind...

... God said on the sixth day. Carl said, "You better start thinking about things you really need to get done while you have time at home." I've become a person ruled by nights and weekends because that's when I get the best rates on utilities. I save laundry, dishes and telephone calls where I want to just talk for evenings and week-ends. I am amazed at having given up my land line and now relying solely on my cell phone how quickly the anytime minutes get eaten up, but I come nowhere close to using the nights and weekends. I also pile up the laundry with the intention of throwing in a load here and there in the evening, but doing most of it on the weekends. And I only run the dishwasher on the weekend. Today I ironed shirts and ironed shirts and ironed shirts and ironed shirts. And besides that, I ironed shirts. The good thing is that the ironing board is in the basement, so even in the heat of the day it is cool and the steam doesn't bother me. My thought about what I really should get done before I run out of time led to ironing shirts. I have too many dress shirts. I had not ironed any long sleeved shirts from the winter. I won't put a dress shirt on my body unless it has been ironed. I can't make myself take shirts to the laundry when I can iron them myself. Cheap. Don't want to pay someone to do something I can do myself. But I really need to pare down the collection! Perhaps I need to put together a bag for goodwill - towels and shirts, maybe a set of sheets or two. Need to make a decision as I'll be returning to work too soon! Tomorrow is Sunday. Will I rest on the Sabbath? Isn't that what I've been doing more than anything else? I have a list of accomplishments that must be met on Monday. Everything must be done early because I have to rest so I can be in Philadelphia at 8 a.m. on Tuesday for my follow-up. Monday will be a bad day to be out and about because all the seniors will be out because it will be the first business day after social security. That always makes everything everywhere slow down. Of course, I have to get some cash for the Phillie trip, in case of emergency. The bank is not a good place to be on the first banking day after social security. If the post office is having trouble because everyone is paying bills online, why can't the seniors all do their banking online and stay away from the banks after they get their social security money? It will only get worse as we boomers get to social security age. Maybe not, because we'll be more accustomed to online banking. Bad thing about ironing - I want to sing - I usually play sing-along music to keep my mind off the drudgery. Wanting to sing is worse than wanting to talk. I never realized how much I sing or hum while I wander through ordinary daily life. So not talking isn't as bad as I imagined - as long as I am practicing my hermitage. Not singing is a disaster! I just wonder how much longer I will be told on Tuesday the silence will last. Wow, talk about rollover minutes this month! Somehow, I think the electric bill will be a record, though I have been very careful NOT to turn on any appliances during peak hours. I haven't touched the air conditioning programmable thermostat, but allowed it to do its regular cycle, getting warmer through the heat of the day. Being home during these summer days has shown me how energy conscious I am. I do a credible job. However, ironing shirts is never pretty. I used an entire bottle of spray starch and more today! Thanks to Aunt Mary Lou for making sure I am so persnickety about that chore! There are still more shirts to iron. I have to think about and prioritize what will get done for the rest of the time I am home. I have to think about how to spend the Lord's day when I cannot go to church. Missing church is so rare in my life. I'll listen to some sacred music and pretend I am hearing it live! And I can keep knitting and praying any time. And there was evening and there was morning the sixth day.