big steps toward normalcy!

I waited until after the mail came to make a decision.

My first thought had been to call Tony and ask him to drag my trash bins to the street for me, once he was home from work.

But the more I pondered the situation, the more I wanted to try on my own before I took that step to rely on someone else.

You know?

This was yet another little part of life that needed to be done, and I needed to be able to take care of it myself.

In the past, I would have turned each bin around, there at the top of my driveway, so their handles were facing the street.

Then I would have grabbed one handle in each hand, tipped them onto their wheels, and rolled them down the driveway and into the street before slamming them against the curb - BAMMMM!

Not this time.

I turned the trash bin around first, then tipped it onto its wheels and rolled it to my car.

Then I did the same with the recycling bin.

Next, I continued rolling the recycling bin to the edge of the driveway.

The trash bin was then rolled down beside it... and then rolled into the street, before being turned to lodge beside the curb.

The recycling bin followed suit, with both now in their customary positions for the city.

I wasn't winded, but I took a moment to pause and make sure I still had my breath.

Surprisingly, I felt pretty good!

Back up into the yard I went, walking at a leisurely pace, not rushing.

I paused again at the base of the front steps, before carefully going up and into the house.

I'd done it!

That meant I needed to take a photo to prove it to myself - so I did!

Time to share that feat with those I know and love!

So I did!

me: "Progress! I just took the trash cans to the curb. Had to do it in stages, but I did it."

me: "I did it slowly and did not lose my breath. Definite progress!"

my first niece: "Yay! I just got back from taking Moose on his first walk since I got sick. [She had COVID ior what seemed like most of January, then Influenza B for half of this month.]"

my first niece: "Look at us! Aren't we a pair."

me: "We are! Woohoo!"

And on I went, spreading the good word to my brothers, to all mi amigas, to the ex and the bfe and Dawn, and to my stepmom, to the folks in California!

I was like the Grinch, triumphantly blowing my horn as I rode into town to share the joy!

Ah, so good to have my exclamation points back!!!

So good to know I am on the road to normalcy, at last.

I went grocery shopping on Friday, by myself.

I've been cooking and washing dishes and taking showers.

And now, I've taken the trash to the curb.

Yes, heading toward normalcy, and that's a blessing.

i thank You, God.

carolyn's big brother

Carolyn had called on Thursday night, sad and upset.

She found out that the church her big brother had attended for decades was having a memorial service for him on Saturday and neither she nor his brother Ron were going to be there.

He could not leave his ill wife and she had not been able to find anyone who could take her to north Georgia.

I knew I was not the one to do so.

I cannot allow myself to drive at night, as my reflexes are still very slow from the anesthesia - yes, after all this time.

What to do to help?

The answer came from my viewing earlier of The Rolling Stones performing "You Can't Always Get What You Want" on LIVEnow, with the lyrics reminding me "that if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need".

Was Big Canoe Chapel large enough to have a presence on youTube?

First, I located its webpage for the regular services, sending the link to Carolyn.

Then, there it was... the featured video, along with a separate link, was the live stream of the service for her brother, Harry Yarbrough, scheduled for 11 AM on Saturday!

I sent those links to her, too, and she shared them with Ron and his wife, so they could tune in, and all watch together, virtually, as though they were in greatly separated pews.

Carolyn took it one step further: she chose to go out to their parents' graves at Bonaventure Cemetery and 'watch' with them.

I watched here, along with 21 others 'attending' from afar instead of in person.

(I would have invited Carolyn to watch with me, but she is still getting over having COVID and Influenza B two weeks ago.)

The service was a little over an hour in length, not including the fifteen minutes of hymn medleys on the piano at the intro.

The grandson Tyler spoke, followed by the granddaughter Amber, who had sweet stories about Papa.

Next up was the son, Boyd, who related some of the same stories as his daughter.

Then, the pastor had talked of all the good that Harry and his wife JoBeth had done for the church and the county, in obedience of the two greatest commandments: to love God, and to love thy neighbor.

Boyd then sang "Thank You", a tune that celebrated all who give of their time to others.

Harry had served in the US Air Force and a duet of those men were there, with this one saluting the folded flag while the other played "Taps".

Then both took the flag and unfolded it, briefly displaying it in its full glory before methodically refolding it.

The entire process was performed in total silence.

Total, complete, silence.

No throat clearing, no whispers, no sound at all for the ten minutes of the procedure.

Finally, the flag was presented to Harry's son and the memorial service was done.

The pianist returned to her station, playing familiar old hymns as the family departed, then continuing on as the pews emptied.

I'm glad I was there.

I know how it is to lose a brother to death.

We have not yet held the celebration of his life, nor closed out his estate in the eyes of the law.

Now, though, I need to check on Carolyn.

sittin' in my driveway, pretty as can be!

Smitty took me to St. Joseph's Hospital today, but only as far as the ER parking lot... where my sweet little Saturn had been patiently waiting.

She started right up, eager to be on her way back home at last!

Hey, not so fast, my girl!

I have a 1 PM appointment at Savannah VA with the nutritionist before we can do that!

So, she waited almost an hour in that parking lot.
When I came into view, she very nearly started herself so we could be off!

Hey, not so fast, my girl!

We need to buy pantiliners at CVS - I couldn't ask Tony to get those for me at the grocery store!

But that was a very short wait, then we were well and truly on our way.

Ah... so good to be home again!

dare i eat a peach?

"Is that fruit on the list of things you can't eat now?"

Not that I'm aware. Besides, it isn't the actual food I'm talking about, or even anything to do with dining. It's more of a T.S. Eliot thing.

"So... it's an activity? That you're trying to decide whether to do or not?"

Exactly. The Savannah Music Festival will run from March 24 through April 9. The slots for volunteers will be opening this weekend.

"I understand. You have lost the last two years of international music to the rampant tides of the COVID pandemic and you were hoping to immerse yourself into its depths again."

Exactly. I need to feel like a busy, vibrant, woman instead of like an old person. Having atrial fibrillation, and not yet knowing what lies in store with that new diagnosis, has certainly made me feel much more like the latter and not my preferred self.

"Why not sign up for working the events anyway?"

Because my appointment with the cardiologist isn't until March 10. I'm sure he will assess how the medications are working for me and decide then what more is needed.

"Again...why not sign up for working the events anyway?"

Because I may not be able to work any of it, that's why. 

"Yes, but you may be able to. Why not sign up for working the events anyway?"

Hmmm... you may be onto something.

"Exactly. Why not sign up for working the events anyway? Others have done so in previous years and had to back out. In fact, that's how you've picked up some pretty choice assignments, including some you had not even considered before."

That's very true. Like that concert that featured the music of Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs. The Earls of Leicester - that's what that band called itself. Hey, maybe it was the universe that had me tune in to "The Beverly Hillbillies" today! You know, they wrote the theme song and were on the show to sing it to Jed.

"Right place, right time. There are no coincidences. You were there, on that channel, at that time, for a show you rarely watch, for a reason. Why not sign up for working the events anyway?"

Okay, I will.

"Most excellent. That will give you something to look forward to."

Thanks. I really need that.

"I know, dear. Just three more months, and change, until this bday64-1 will be done. The bulk of it is over."

i thank You, God.

mine was green

I was barely able to look at it.

When the 8 PM episode of "Monk" came on, I first commiserated with Randy Disher.

He was under anesthesia for two hours, for what should have been a 30-minute tooth extraction.
Really made me wonder how long it might take him to recover from being put under, right?

But he had bounced right back, young man that he is.

The problem was that he had witnessed his dentist killing someone, but no one would believe him, all choosing to think it some hallucination from the drug.

Then, with only about fifteen minutes left in the show, Adrian is kidnapped by the dentist and his nurse and we come to this scene...

and it stopped me short.

The first think that popped into my head was: "Mine was green."

What "mine" was I talking about?

That device to keep his mouth open.

The one used on me was a bright green, with a circlet in the center, like some kind of target or bullseye to guide the camera.

That's right, I said "camera".

The Transesophageal Echocardiography, aka TEE, involved the use of two sets of electrical pads to monitor my vitals, one for the cardio team and one for the anesthesiologists.

I also had large electrical pads, roughly 6" x 4", attached to me; one was over the sternum, the other on my left should blade.

That was all part of the Direct Current Cardioversion, aka DCC, should that procedure be deemed safe.

The TEE would involve positioning a camera behind my heart to make sure no nasty little blood clots were hidden from view; if the coast was clear, then an electrical shock would be administered to stop my heart, in hopes it would start back up in its normal rhythm.

Now, then, just how would a camera be able to be placed in such a position?

Well, it would need to be carefully threaded to not land in the trachea, as that would take it to the lungs, a pathway parallel to the esophagus from the mouth; my guess would involve passage through the epiglottis, but I don't know.

What I do know is this: after my throat was sprayed twice with a numbing agent (that tasted like the worst fake-cherry flavor in the world), the bright-green bite-block was placed into my mouth to keep it open.

I had kidded with the team that this would be my "new Facebook profile pic" and they liked that I had my sense of humor intact.

Of course, I'd said that to allay my own concerns.

I'm glad nurse Erin maintained a hold on my right hand.

Now, if only I can conquer the coughing fits that strike when I am about to fall asleep.

I think it's a residual dread of whatever took place after the anesthesia kicked in.

As soon as it was administered, I had said "whoa..." as the room started spinning, and then I remember naught else...

or I think I remember nothing more...

until my body rebels against "falling" asleep.

When I spoke to Paul last night, he thought it possible that I was remembering something about the test procedure.

So, last night, I tried something different.

I always sleep on my side, not on my back.

The TEE-DCC had been done with me on my back.

So, in bed, lying on my side, I waited for the tell-tale signs of the coughs building up...

then, I told myself, "You are safe, you are on your side. You are safe, you are on your side. You are safe, you are on your side."...

and the cough sensation fell away from me and I slept...

I slept!

For the first time in days, I slept without enduring over an hour of coughing.

Even when I rose at one point for the bathroom, I easily returned to sleep!

i thank You, God.

Mornings are rough enough without coffee...

I need that precious sleep.

jdog and time to share my T

Yesterday, when I woke to the alarm for my mandated time of breakfast, that truck was parked in front of my house.

Three hours later it was still there.

John, the owner of the house next to mine, had called in the junk haulers to cart away my neighbor's belongings: furniture, clothing, the children's toys, all of it.

My neighbors were at work and had no clue that he was there and doing such a heinous act.

I had not known they were unaware until they suddenly showed up, then there was a shouting match about John having all their stuff spread on the front yard.

Thank God the girls were at school.

What a shock for them, to come home and find they had no home anymore.

Such a sad situation.

They've been excellent neighbors.

Anyway, that's not what I meant to focus on.

The name on the truck is the focus.

I took a photo of it, then sent it to the physicist, texting "Just thought you should know they've taken your name in vain. LOL"

As you may recall, he is known to me as J-Dawg.

(smile)
Well, this afternoon, he responded with "God dammit!!! Again?!?!??"

I chose that time to write, "You should also know I've spent the week recovering from two days in St. Joseph's last week. I have atrial fibrillation."

And so began our conversation, via text, about my health issues, including my feeling totally drunk for all of that time from the anesthesia, my feeling this morning like I'd been punched in the chest from the electric shock, my feeling old from having this heart problem.

By the time, we were done, with him ending with the admonishment "Don't be done yet! We got a lot more to do!", one thing was clear.

It was time to let those I love know what was going on.

So far, the news had gone to my brothers and their families, my niece Christina, Dawn (as I had to cancel a luncheon) and two of mi amigas, Carolyn and Barbara.

That was it.

So, I'm going to take care of that right now, via email.

There's no way I could talk for long enough to let all know.

Talking can wait another day.

why i can't go to the movies

Carolyn just called me to see if I wanted to join her at the cinema.

This is, apparently, the last evening that "Death On The Nile" will be on the Big D screen...

and we all know how much I love the Big D.

(wink wink, nudge nudge!)

I had to tell her I still feel too drunk to do that.

Even though I have not had a drop of alcohol since NYE, and even so, that was a tiny bottle of rose wine.

But, drunk is how I feel.

Absolutely, totally, wasted, stoned, high as a kite... but not in a good way.

I keep a low level nausea going from the dizziness and disorientation in my brain.

The last time I felt this way was after my second colonoscopy.

That was my first time with the "twilight anesthesia" that seems to be all the rage.

Honestly, I was s-t-o-o-p-i-d for over a week.

That's why, in 2016 when I had my third colonoscopy, I opted to forego the anesthesia.

That's also why, on that same trip in Charleston when I had the carpal tunnel surgery on my left hand, I opted for only the local anesthesia.

I had a much faster recovery from those two events.

Somehow, though, I had missed that I would be put into twilight time.

That's unfortunate.

I'm older now, so moving out from anesthesia is slower anyway, which does not bode well.

I may be well into next week before I can feel safe to drive my car home from the hospital's ER parking lot.

Damn.

Anyway, as I was saying, Carolyn called to see if I wanted to meet her for the movie.

"I can't," I replied, "I am still too drunk from the anesthesia last week."

And I was surprised that my brain had used the word "drunk"...

but that was exactly the right choice.

After all, I remember the opening night parties at the NCO Club that followed every play that A.C.T.O.R. put on for the troops in Okinawa.

Champagne would flow freely, with each of us getting our own bottle and me usually ending up with an extra from someone who didn't like the bubbly.

The thing is, here's the thing: I was in my early twenties.

I could still get up at 0600 for the day shift and be just fine.

Now, I'm still queasy and dizzy six days later.

Guess I'll keep moving slowly until it passes.

Getting older is definitely not for wienies.

my heart doc is a heart throb

Had I mentioned that the man is in television commercials?

Well, he is, and I've seen both of them.

He's speaking as a cardiologist that has made the conscious decision to operate at St. Joseph's Hospital.

Mi amiga Barbara is the one who pointed out to me a few days ago that he was in 'mercials.

She had recognized Dr. Daniel Cobb by name.

I recognized his dark eyes and dark hair first, as that was all I saw above his surgical mask.

He may have come to my room and spoken to be beforehand, but I can't say that for sure.

I know seeing and hearing him in the TV ads is actually reassuring.

I know St. Joseph's has an excellent reputation for its cardiology staff, and I even have experience with them in that regard: my ex had stents inserted twice, three years apart, back when Ken Hardigan was practicing there.

Come to think of it, those two surgeries were done in February, too.

What an odd way to mark the month of Valentines.

pink, but not valentine candy

The wind of change is blowing, but I doubt seriously that the Scorpions would have envisioned it quite like this.

That's right, I'm calling them out on this latest round of changes in my life.

I wonder how they would have liked having to exchange one royal blue capsule for two little pink ones?

That's what I've had to do.

I know, that doesn't sound like it would be such a big deal, but stay with me.

The one royal blue capsule - Ramipril - was taken once a day, along with breakfast, for my mild case of hypertension.

Did it matter when I ate that first meal?

Not in the least!

So, whether I dined on breakfast or called the meal brunch, whether it was at 9 AM or noon or 2 PM, none of that was of importance... only that I remembered to take that one pill.

Easy peasy!

Not so with these two new medications.

The Metoprolol - that would be the round one with the decidedly pink hue, on the right - demands to be taken twice a day and must be consumed with food.

Moreover, the two doses should be taken at breakfast and at dinner, which calls for a nine-hour interval between them.

Seriously.

I'm not kidding.

Of course the times they suggested were not pertinent to my life... like, at all.

So, I made the best choices for my schedule, meaning I must take the round, pink, pill at 10:30 AM and then at 7:30 PM.

Seriously.

What about the other candy-hued morsel?

Well, that one is an anticoagulant called Eliquis.

That one little oval costs $10.91... and I have to take two per day.

Seriously.

The 30-day prescription cost $654.95, but I caught a break; the manufacturer has a coupon that allows a one-time "free" for new patients.

(My thanks to the Publix pharmacist for catching that and printing the coupon for me.)

I can only hope that the VA has access to the generic version for me.

And what's this about needing to take it twice daily?

No worries!

I'll just take it at the same time as the other new drug!

No.

They cannot be taken simultaneously.

Seriously.

Moreover, the orangish ovals must be taken twelve hours apart.

Seriously.

Plus, the first oval should be an hour after the first round pink one.

Seriously.

So, I am now letting a clock rule my life.

I really hate that.

I do hope that may change when I see the doctor next month.

After all, I'm retired...

which means not tied to a clock...

and being tied to one again is wearing me out.

Time for a nap.

think i'm turning mormon-ese, i really think so

My nephew Damon, Tony's son, had posted this bit of musical humor on fb a few days back.

"When a cougar gets so old she needs a hearing aid, she becomes a Def Leppard."

Looking at it now, at least I can say my hearing seems to have improved, so I guess I need not fear becoming a Def Leppard just yet.

Not that I was ever a cougar, mind.

I'm more of a purple panther, n'est-ce pas?

And now, I seem to be leaning toward being Mormon.

How so?

Due to my atrial fibrillation, I cannot have caffeine, theobromine, alcoholic beverages, or spicy foods.

I know, I know, if they were serious they should have just put me out of my misery.

No caffeine means no coffee, no iced tea when out to dine, no Pepsi, no Coke, no dark sodas except root beer.

At least I can still indulge in a Diet Barq's when I go to the cinema in the future.

No theobromine means no more chocolate, either dark or milk.

As that chemical is also found in some teas, I guess I will have to research that.

But no more dark chocolate???

Of course, I had recently bought more coffee and more Dove's Dark Chocolate Promises.

I guess I will have to find those items a new home, as they cannot stay here.

Then there's the no alcohol rule.

That one won't be a problem, as I have alcohol about twice a year.

That would be on my birthday and on New Year's Eve.

I still have the birthday bottle in the refrigerator, so that may well be vinegar now.

What else was there that has to be pushed out of my life...?

Oh, yes: spicy food.

Quite frankly, the doctor is going to need to be more specific.

Does that refer to Mexican food? Thai cuisine? Indian curries?

Not fair, absolutely not fair.

Not only do I have a health issue that makes me feel old, but I can't have some of my favorite foods to bring some measure of comfort?

When I was a girl, the Millers moved into the neighborhood.

Brenda was about my age, maybe a couple of years older.

She was the only Mormon I'd ever known.

I had thought it odd that she and her family didn't drink sweet tea or eat chocolate, but that was against the rules of her religion; she accepted that, and I didn't try to push those foodstuffs onto her.

Here's the thing, though: she grew up knowing those items were not to be ingested.

It wasn't a loss to her, because she had never had them.

That's not the case for me.

I've been enjoying those items for more than half my life, or longer!

And now I've been asked to leave them be.

Sigh.

One day at a time...

Now, it's time for Super Bowl LVI and the ice skating in Beijing.

Those will be a good distraction.

anatomy of a shower

 1: Be sure to have something at hand for drying off.

 2: Start the hot water tap and the cold water tap, then turn on shower.

 3: Take off any clothes you are wearing and place them on floor or elsewhere.

 4: Pull back the shower curtain, then, carefully step into the tub.

 5: Move into the shower spray, then adjust temperature as needed.

 6: Turn around in the spray, making sure all of the body gets moistened.

 7: Apply soap and lather up, being sure to clean all parts of the body.

 8: Rinse thoroughly, turning around in the spray to make sure all soap is removed.

 9: Turn off the shower, then turn off the hot and cold water taps.

10: Pull back the shower curtain and grab the towel.

11: Dry off your face an arms, then dry the chest and abdomen before drying the back.

12: Next, dry off the legs and feet and buttocks, then step out of the tub.

13: Put on panties/underwear, then get dressed.

*****

Please note that the steps have been abbreviated and that substeps could be added.

Each and every one of those steps requires the performance of some action.

That means each and every one of those steps requires a good deal of breath.

Ordinarily, the little routine is performed with nary a thought of those separate steps.

One simply decides to take a shower and does so.

Well, I am here to say that all it takes is a breathing issue to turn a shower into an utterly exhausting physical procedure.

By the time I was done with the water part yesterday, I was ready to sit and catch my breath - but I could not, as I still needed to get dry.

I have a new understanding of the problems my stepdad faced in the performance of simple tasks, after he had to deal with COPD.

I remember that Mama had bought him a terrycloth robe for his showers.

All he had to do was step into it, and step over to a chair, then catch his breath while the thirsty fabric removed the water from his body.

Well, my bathrobe is a thick, lavender, cotton, bought from Parisian so many years ago.

I think it will do very well as a breath-saver for me on shower days.

Thanks, Mama and Frank, for the suggestion.

good to be nestled at home again

Only my two brothers and their spouses have known I was back in town from Florida.

It's only by the grace of God that I am.

When I drove to Savannah yesterday, I was barely able to walk ten feet without having to stop and catch my breath.

I had no problem driving, as that was a sitting-down procedure.

But, after parking in St. Joseph's ER lot, trying to get from the car into the building required two rest stops.

The diagnosis is: atrial fibrillation.

I had thought the cold weather had given me pneumonia and was completely to blame for my trouble breathing.

Now, I am seated on my own couch, in my own house, surrounded by the colors of my life.

i thank You, God.

Smitty and Mary came to pick me up, retrieve my laptop and travel bag from my car, take me to the pharmacy for the new prescriptions, and escort me into into my home.

i thank You. God.

I've made a soothing cup of apricot tea, as calming to smell as it is to sip, and have saltine crackers to help calm my upset stomach.

"Penn & Teller: Fool Us" is on television, to return a bit of magic to my life.

i thank You, God.

It's been a very long two days, but I am home.

Every little thing is going to be alright.

i thank You, God.

vltat: hit me, baby, one moas time!

"A work with this identical composition has listed at auction signed 'B. Hernandez''. This work - like other artwork representing iconic Florida subjects such as citrus fruit and alligators - was probably created to be sold to tourists. Like European artwork sold to those on the Grand Tour to verify their travels, so these works allowed the owner to claim adventurer status."
 

Well, whaddaya know 'bout that?

This anonymous piece, determined to have been created in the early 20th century and procured by Cici and Hyatt Brown in 1960, has found a space on a museum wall solely by dint of it being of Florida in scope.

Anonymous... and, yet, hanging in a fancy frame.

Reminds me of the Florentine bridge I bought for a song, now on my dining room wall.

(smile!)

Funny, I had not thought that purchase made me an adventurer; my being in Italy granted me that title, surely!

Especially as I was with folks I did not know!

(smile!)

 

Perhaps the fact that I was traveling solo once more stamped me as an adventurer, in which case, I've had that title for decades.

The above photo was from my visit Monday, between DRI's silver and gold prevarications and the bingo shenanigans.

Finishing the two rooms missed on the January trip felt like the right thing, and it was!

I had missed this sketch and oil painting by Harry Louis Freund.

Titled "Marker 71", it made a nice companion piece for my comparison and contrast studies.

(smile!)

Today, my attention was focused on the main building of MOAS and the Planetarium.

Most of the exhibits had changed.

For instance, the running dog was gone, replaced by "Ladies First: The Art Of Carlos Luna", which carried on the other's bright colors.

A Singer sewing machine was in two of the pieces, with this one talking of "hard years of my Mother" and the other featuring his Grandma deliberately ignoring the machine, as she preferred doing her stitching by hand.

Maybe I should break out the two sewing machines I have - one mine since before Panama, the other an inherited one from Mama - and see if I even remember how to thread them.

(smile!)

There were new pieces in the lobby and hall, too, marking the Annual Florida Artists' Group exhibit, this year having the theme "Florida Palette" and being as diverse as that environment.

One of my favorites was this one, no doubt because I liked its title: "Waiting For My Ship To Come In".

The three-dimensional nature of the work certainly added to my delight in it, drawing my fingers near, but not quite touching.

Very nice, Jane Jennings!

I do have to wonder if she has had pieces in this annual exhibit before, or if this was the first?

(smile!)

Still, I think it was "A Crack In The Moon: The Art Of Alette Simmons Jimenez" that spoke most to me on this visit. 

For instance, take this powder puff mobile that speaks of celestial objects in light, airy tones, suspended on gossamer from the heights.

There were even a couple of rocket ships wandering in the spaces between, inviting the viewer to explore along with them as they searched for life.

My fingers had to be repeatedly placed into my pockets to stop their quests to touch the fluff-looking spheres, to flick the dangling chains, to twirl the little ships.

Yes, I very much liked this exhibit!

(smile!)

And guess what?

It had a scientific basis for the name!

Mounted on the wall outside the room was this this gorgeous, egg-shaped, design, a-flutter with dragonflies and shimmer!

The plaque introduced the exhibit with the following.

"A Crack In The Moon's concept found an unexpected resonance in the following summary of a report from NASA: Cracks in the moon were recently discovered by scientists via an expansive survey or more than 12,000 lunar images. It has been revealed that the surface of the Moon is constantly cracking and shifting under stress. Just as the Moon's gravitational pull causes seas  and lakes to rise and fall on Earth, the Earth exerts the same forces on the Moon to the extent that Earth's pull opens fault lines on the Moon."
Pretty nifty, right?

I'll have to look that up some time on the NASA site.

Meanwhile, how about those Planetarium shows today!

At 3 PM, I again saw the children's film, "The Little Star That Could".

Very nice!

Than, at 4 PM, there was a problem with one of the machines, so that meant the live show for "Hubble Universe" would not be possible...

so, that allowed us to see "For Earth To The Universe" instead!

Hooray!

Something new for me!

And now, I'm back at the condo and getting organized for tomorrow.

I'll see about emptying the fridge to minimize what I have to carry.

My shortness of breath has not improved, but I'm hoping the mild temperature by late morning will let me get out of here on time.

My goal is to drive straight through to the Savannah VA Center, in the hopes that they can help me get my lungs right.

Please, God, help me get home safely.

macbeth... and random acts of insanity

Who would have guessed that this episode of VLTAT would have two topics that go so very well together that they could be synonyms?

Certainly not I!

I certainly had not planned for the two to mesh so well...

I mean, not consciously, I mean...

so it must be the universe stepping in and setting it up, to see if I'd notice.

What a marvelous inside joke between me and the powers that be!

(smile!) 

First was the Shakespeare classic, one which always transports me back in time to Mrs. Thorne's senior English class.

This time, the story was told on the silver screen at Cinematique, in the form of the 2021 film, "The Tragedy Of Macbeth".

Denzel Washington played the title role, and did so very well, but the actor who most impressed me was Brendan Gleeson as good King Duncan, treated most foully.

I very much enjoyed Stephen Root's performance, too, as the Porter, adding a splash of mirth to the madness all around.

Afterward, I had only about an hour's break until my favorite Floridian improv troupe stormed the stage.

Not enough time to return to the condo, so why not a little walk?

I only got as far as the tobacco shop.

Rain was spraying gently, not enough for a soaking, but more than was needed to dampen and chill, especially on this cool night.

So, I stood in that alcove, humming to myself, watching others bustle hither and you.

Then... a young man walked by, singing!

And just what was that tune springing forth?

"Waiting for a star to fall, 

carry you into my arms, 

that's where you belong, 

in my arms, baby, yeah!"

Wow!!!

I tried to sing along, but couldn't seem to catch the right key.

Still, what a wonderful treat!

Not quite like having a poem created for me, 

but, still, such a treat!

RAI let me know my suggestions were appreciated, from the very first game of "99 ___ walk into a bar" to the dark and creepy "Press Conference" a little later.

There's Jenna, Andrew Ramos, Matt, and Danno (with an unseen Sam on the sidelines as emcee).

They took my word - "keys" - and came up with puns galore, such as "99 keys walk into a bar and it was off the chain", and "99 keys walk into a bar and they had rings" and "99 keys walk into a bar and they turned and locked up" - hahahaha!

Then, a couple of skits later, we came to the "Press Conference", with Jenna, Andrew, and Danno as reporters tossing out hint-laden questions to help Matt, the 'celebrity', determine just who he was and what it was he had done that made him famous.

'Shrek' said I, and someone else added 'Ghost', so he was 'Ghost Shrek and he had killed Baby Yoda'.

Like I said, pretty dark and creepy! LOL!

Another skit, then one of my favorites: "Three-Headed Opera Singer"!

(Odd Lot always did this as "Three-Headed Story Teller", but I like the addition of the music!)

This had all its input from Gary, a guy whose wife had volunteered him for "Fill In The Word" earlier.

So, just what did Gary do?

He had Jenna-Andrew-Matt (I like to think of them as JAM!) sing a love song to Barbara, about one of her favorite activities: skiing!

It really was a high point of the show!

Well, it was for me.

I like the more positive stuff, not the dark and creepy negative vibe.

For instance, the very last skit, a long-form story called "Grandpa's Attic", featured a pyramid of German skulls, a magical globe that seemed to do everything except restore people's ability to walk, and a yo-yo made of linen.

I know, that last item sounds pretty innocuous, but it was the reason Grandma couldn't walk.

I don't know how the grandson was able to keep his cool after these horror tales.

Then again... just because I don't care for that genre doesn't mean others feel the same.

From where I was in the back corner, the rest of the audience liked it.

Just know this: I left with a smile!

I had gone out front to congratulate the troupe on their show and one of them, Matt, made a point of coming out of the mix to chat one on one with me.

You know why?

He wanted to thank me for being a regular!

And how did he know I was?

He recognized my hair.

Isn't that the coolest thing?!

(smile!)

Now, I'll have to remember that #RAI is on TwitchTV and see if I can catch them there.

(smile!)

vltat: bingo at the beach!

Welcome, one and all, to the Audrey and Grant show!

I do so enjoy them as the Bunker Bingo hosts!

As I was going to be away from home, I had questioned myself about even keeping my reservation for the games, but, in the end, and given the dreary weather both home and here in Ormond, I'm glad I had this to entertain me on this Monday night!

The KC Crew was playing music for me to jam along with, too - thanks, Grant!

My guess is he has older siblings that turned him onto the rock and roll of the '70's ad '80's, because he certainly isn't old enough for all that.

I am, though!

And he was even taking requests!

(smile!)

Audrey was taking requests, too, but not for music.

She was keeping one eye on the chat bar, so when we made comments, she could reply, just as is this was being played right there in Kansas City.

For instance, during the third game, I chatted that my card was "freeeeezing..."

Next thing I know, Audrey is saying, ""Hang in there, Faustina, let's see if we can get you some numbers!"

And, she did!

"And I just got one!" I wrote in the chat. 

"Thanks, Audrey!"

"Good for you, Faustina," was her vocal reply!

She really is a sweetie!

(smile!)

As for my cards, please don't think that I came anywhere near getting a B-I-N-G-O on this occasion.

I contented myself with the thrill of the chase for that elusive ideal sequence...

and with the different patterns formed by the black squares of called numbers.

Take this card, for example.

By the time someone else had B-I-N-G-O, I had placed only four numbers, plus the 'free space' in the middle.

No worries, though!

I rather liked the daisy bobbing back at me from that field of butterscotch gold!

(smile!) 

Now, the fun is d-o-n-e and it's time for food!

Audrey and I are hungry!!!

(smile!)

argentum et aurum

What a dismal, dreary scene, right?

This photo might as well have been taken in black & white, for all the lack of color in it.

Hardly looks like Daytona Beach, does it?

But, it is.

This was taken from the top floor of the Daytona Beach Regency, where a Diamond Resorts salesman was lying to me, just as his buddy Bill England had years ago.

Yeah, there's that name again: the lying sack of crud that told me I had to buy another 3,000 points if I wanted to maintain my Silver Elite status.

I had left that meeting in tears, but with the 3,000 points and deeper in debt.

Lying sack of crud.

So, when Lloyd Demsey had asked me how I felt about being an owner with Diamond, I told him about that lying sack of crud who had sold me points I didn't need and had not cared that I was crying.

To his credit, Lloyd looked shocked.

He told me he knew the man and had thought he was a good guy.

Yeah... that's not been my experience with him.

Lloyd then asked me what it would take to make me feel better about being a DRI owner.

I told him I wanted them to take back those 3,000 points and pay me back the money that had been wrongfully taken from me.

I might as well have asked him for a slice of the moon on a platter.

Although he told me he would try to make that happen, he knew he was lying.

Moreover, he knew that I knew he was lying.

But, fine, I played the game.

When he said he thought he could get the money back for me if I would submit a letter requesting that be done, I wrote it.

He even dictated the words that he said would be most likely to recoup my funds.
He didn't even raise a fuss when I took this photo.

In fact, that's his hand at the top of the page.

(He even shared a video clip of him playing piano, so feel free to jog on over to youTube to watch him.)

So, did he get that money back for me?

Oh, please.

Diamond Resorts doesn't do give-backs!

Okay, what did he do?

Well, he talked to me about growing up in Miami and claimed to be familiar with the Crescent Resort on South Beach, which I had so enjoyed.

He talked about his grandfather, who resembled Lorne Greene of "Bonanza" and was absolutely in awe that I had been to the Ponderosa Ranch; that was back in 2000, and we'd had a steak dinner on a tin plate and drunk from tin cups.

(That place closed in 2004.)

He talked about the Hilton Vacations to be available starting in April of this year and applied for their American Express card to help make the transition easier for me; again, he was shocked that I already had such a card and have had it more than a decade.

(But he put through the application anyway, to boost my available credit.)

But more than any of those topics, he spoke to me of Yukon Cornelius' song.

Now, I'm not saying he referred to the miner by name...

but he certainly kept singing about "Silver And Gold".

Over and over and over.

That's because he was trying to convince me to BUY MORE POINTS.

Seriously.

I had come into the meeting to have 3,000 points removed from my annual allotment, and his response was to SELL ME 15,000 MORE POINTS.

I even pointed out his math error, but that didn't matter.

What math error?

Gold Elite status kicks in at 30,000 points; I have 18,000 points.

To change my Silver to Gold, I would need 12,000 points.

No, he told me, I would have to buy 15,000 points to be Gold.

But that would give me a surplus of 3,000 points...

same as I've had for years now...

3,000 points that never get used, that get rolled over each year...

3,000 points that he was going to have removed, with the money back to me.

I guess he and that lying sack of crud probably are friends.

That's too bad.

I had hoped Lloyd Demsey was one of the good guys.

I wonder what Lorne Greene would make of that.

sweet dreams and good morning!

When you're smiling,

when you're smiling, 

the whole world smiles with you.

 

When you're laughing,

when you're laughing,

the sun comes shining through.

I just loved this buoyant short program!

He was obviously enjoying himself, and I've loved this song since I was a girl!

His was one of the first skates in the Men's Freestyle competition, and, for a brief time, he was in first place!

The 17-year-old from Japan ended up with a Silver medal when all was sad and done.

Good for Yuma Kagiyama!

And what a pleasant note to end my tiring day of travel in this cold weather!

 

Then, this morning, when I'd pulled up VH1 in the hopes of a music video, I got extra!

Yep, that's Tom Jones, acting as guardian angel for Carlton on "The Fresh Prince Of Bel-Air"!

Carlton was feeling a bit like a loser and was thinking the family would have been better off had he never been born.

So, enter the angel to show him how lucky they are, a la "It's A Wonderful Life"!

Yes, indeed, this may not have been the music video I had expected: it was better, by far!

Right place, right time!

Now, to have a bit of breakfast!

vltat: why 2 keys

"Why two keys?" 

Yes, that's the question Robin asked me, as I had just old her I was here alone.

"Okay, so who is Robin and where are you?"

She's the concierge and, as I'm Silver Elite, she was the one who checked me in.

"That means you're at a Diamond property again? Already?"

I am, as I needed a break from the cold. Days with highs in the low 50's drain me, as it's so difficult to get the house up to 60 on such days. I reasoned that even if it's cold outside where I go, at least it'll be toasty inside! So I had looked online Wednesday for an escape... and found one!

"Very nice for you! And just where is this haven?"

It's a two-bedroom suite at The Cove on Ormond Beach.

"I see. So, for sure, the weather there is not much different from that at home. And with the pandemic still runnin' 'round, you couldn't chance inviting an amiga."

That is correct. It's too chilly to eat on the balcony, but I could still enjoy the beach view, amiga o no.

"So, that does beg the question: why would you need two keys?"

As I told her, I keep one in the car. That way, when I leave the condo without that card key, I will still have my car keys... so I will be able to get back in without going to security.

"What a nifty idea!"

Thanks! You should have seen the look on Robin's face - priceless! She said that was very smart and she was going to start recommending that practice to other guests!

"I bet she did, too. What a good idea!"

Hey, all it took was me locking myself out once, years ago, and having to wait for the building security to come along on their rounds and let me back in. Well, after I proved that I was the one who was supposed to be there. After that, I always have a key for my pocket and a key for my car.

"And have you ever had to use the key in your car to gain re-entry to the condo?"

 Only about three or four times. Worked like a charm!

"Any big plans while you're there in Florida?"

Certainly not for today! I did go to Publix and get milk for my coffee tomorrow. A big salad (as Elaine would order) and part of a roasted chicken made for a magnificent meal while I enjoyed "The Princess And The Frog" on the Disney channel. And now... figure skating!

"Oh, very nice! And isn't that the Russian couple? Wasn't that the last of the couples skating, with the lifts and tandem axels and such?"

That's right! They were magnificent!

"This isn't the couples skate, though, is it?"

Good call! No, it's the ice dancing! That looks like such fun! It's patterened after ballroom dancing, too, so the important point is to always stay in time with the music and each other, not so much making certain maneuvers.

"This pair isn't part of the Team USA, right?"

Correct again! They are part of Team China and they were phenomenal to watch. He's easily a foot taller than her, but they moved so very gracefully together that the height difference didn't even figure in to the appearance.

"Wow."

I totally agree. Now, I'm going back to it. Later, chica!

"Enjoy!"

to see or not to see, that is the question

As bad as this pandemic has been, and as many lives as COVID has taken, the situation could have been much more dire.

That was the point driven home in "Blindness".

How did I come upon this film from 2008?

Rather by accident, truthfully.

I'd gone to "Moonfall" at the cinema and found it to be a throwback to the disaster flicks of the 1970's; I don't know if that was the film's goal, but that's how I perceived it.

It left me wanting something more... but staying at the AMC for the next batch of movies would have left me hanging for almost an hour.

So, I'd come home, to peruse the listings on HBO, in hopes of something free.

This one has Mark Ruffalo, so I held up and ran the projector, so to speak.

Good choice.

Based on the book that garnered the 1998 Nobel Prize for Literature for its Portuguese author, Jose Saramago, it's a look at life in a pandemic.

Here's how it differs from the one we've been in for two years: the virus doesn't kill the people infected with it... it makes them blind.

Specifically, they become snowblind, only seeing bright whiteness with their open eyes.

There's no way to avoid it, as it is not spread by touch or cough or sneeze; just being in the presence of someone infected pretty well guarantees blindness within a day's time.

How scary is that?

At least the SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus doesn't affect our sight, leaving us free to binge-watch on television, or surf the ether web's currents, or take a drive to get out of the house.

Yes, just think about that: to not even be able to drive because the eyes are useless.

Very scary thought.

 

The movie, like the book, began innocently enough, with anonymous people living their busy lives in some large, unnamed city, in some unnamed country.

Suddenly, there's a traffic jam, caused by a car that has stopped without warning.

When three onlookers and a police officer approach the driver, he tells them he has gone blind and cannot see to drive.

One onlooker offers to help, to drive the now-blind driver to his home, and the man gratefully allows him to do so.

The onlooker gets the blind man into his apartment, then becomes a thief, taking off with the blind man's keys still in his possession, as well as the blind man's car.

When the blind man's wife comes home, she decides to take him to an eye doctor.
That's when they discover the theft of their car, so they get a taxi.
When they arrive at the optometrist's office, they interact with the receptionist, as well as the patients in the waiting room: a woman with her little boy; a call girl in dark sunglasses; and an aging man with an eye patch.
The doctor sees the blind man right away, but cannot find a problem with his eyes; he tells the blind man more intense study will need to occur at the hospital.
So the doctor sends the couple away.
When the doctor goes home that night, he discusses the mysterious case with his wife as she prepares dinner.
Meanwhile, the thief has sold the vehicle and gone to a bar and had a few drinks, interacting with the barkeep and patrons.
So, the driver (Patient, Ground Zero) has directly interacted with eleven people; all are blind the next day, just like him.

When the doctor wakes up and is blind, he and his wife - who has some innate immunity and is the only person to not go blind - go to the hospital, where the doctor is whisked away to a quarantine facility, with his wife going with him by claiming she was also blind...
even though she is not.
In fact, she never, ever becomes blind.
That allows her to help organize the shelter when others start arriving... including the thief, the receptionist, and all the doctor's patients who had been in the waiting room when the blind man came in.
Even the blind man's wife, the bartender, and many others arrive, with all forced by armed guards to stay in the confines of the building and its fenced yard.
At first, folks are willing to do as the she and the doctor say and stay calm.
That changes when one miscreant manages to convince others on his ward to take advantage of the lack of food to set up a barter system, first for jewelry, then for sex with the women of the other wards.

(As I was looking at the shambles that the shelter had become, one thing came to mind: the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans.
It had been meant to serve as a temporary home for those displaced by Hurricane Katrina, but a few bad selfish bullies took over, brutalizing the non-gang people trapped there.
Wow.)

So, back to the movie... while the bad men were running amok at the quarantine building, civilization outside the structure had gone straight to hell.
Anyone in a town was trapped there; anyone in the country was trapped as well, as all were blind and could not drive to anywhere else.

All were as desperate for food and for clean water as those in quarantine.
No electricity, no lights at night - neither were of use anyway, as everyone was blind.
That's what those in the quarantine building found after a fire drove them outside...
where they discovered the guards had deserted their posts at some point.

The band of people who had spent so much time with the doctor and his wife were led to the doctor's house, to try to decide what next to do.... but first, showers, clean clothes, a meal lifted from a store's cellar, and a good night's sleep.
The next morning, the doctor's wife is making coffee and breakfast...
and the blind man's sight suddenly returns.
Glory, glory!
The others trust that their vision will also return!
They will all be able to return to their lives!
Only the older man with the eye patch and the woman who had been a call girl show some sadness about the news.
They had been treated to life as part of a group that cared for each other and had looked toward becoming a couple...
now, would they?
Could they?
Wow.

I don't know that I particularly liked the "happy" ending.

Even though the virus itself had not directly caused deaths, many had died, nonetheless.

People dying in fatal car wrecks, people dying in fatal falls, people dying from wounds that could not be properly treated because medical staff were also blind.

Then there are those who were killed by looters and rapists and people driven mad by the loss of their sight; those slain by armed guards, desperate to keep themselves sighted and apart from those tainted by the virus.

I'm sure there were also some who died by their own hand rather than spend the rest of their uncertain lives with only a screen of milky white as their field of vision..

No mention was made of any of these losses of life.

At least with this pandemic of 2019 - yes, that's when it began in the world at large, though our little corner would be safe for several months in 2020 - the loss of life has been carefully tabulated on a daily basis, as this very real virus can, and does, directly kill many of those who become infected by it.

I've got some "Quantum Leap" to distract me now.

And, like last night's episode, these two from Season 2 are appropriate.

The first, "The Americanization of Machiko", follows a young Japanese woman who has married into a small-town family by wedding their sailor son.

(The first person to go blind from the virus was Japanese.)

The episode that follows?

It's about a blind pianist.

Right place, right time.

Wow.