Recovering

Today I literally have all day to get this post done, and that's a good thing, because it will probably take that long.  My surgery was two days ago, and even though I'm wearing the brace I can still use my fingers.  Slowly.  It's not as painful as I expected it to be, and hopefully when I get my stitches out next week, I will start to see improvements.  Right now, I just have to be careful.  It's small things, like remembering to set my coffee cup on the left side of the desk so I don't accidentally pick it up with my right hand.  Doctor's orders are one thing, but natural reflexes are hard to hold down.  So right now, I'm just supposed to be taking it easy.  The surgery was on the tendons attached to my thumb, but I'm not to use my right hand at all except for scratching my nose or petting the cats.  I read online that total recovery can take up to six months.  My doctor told me 2-3 months, so I'm putting my faith in him and not the web.  The surgery was the quickest one I've ever had- I got to the surgical center at ten minutes before noon, got called back before I even sat down, and we were leaving for home shortly after 1pm.  I came out of the anesthesia before they even got me back to my room.  And so far, no pain, just a twinge now and then if I bend my hand the wrong way.

So I have all day to blog (both write and read!) because J has to work late tonight.  It happens once in awhile.  Not an hour late, but late late. It's hard watching him walk out the door before sunrise, knowing he won't be home until close to midnight.  When he kissed me goodbye he said, see you tomorrow, because he knows I will probably be in slumberland by the time he gets back home.  But the 400+ employees that he is over, are scattered over several shifts and a dozen departments.  Occasionally he has to stay during the night shift so he can see those guys, and more than that, be seen.  He usually will take dinner with them, and their dinner break is at 10pm.  Next week he will have another late evening, because he has to go meet with another group of his employees who work out of a satellite location.  The week after that, he will be in Philadelphia for three days for corporate meetings.  I'll be missing him a lot in September it seems. But since I'm not doing much around the house right now anyhow, I guess it's as good a time as any for him to take care of work.

We had a nice trip to New Orleans.  I actually hurt my back several days before we left- one of those old age things.  I leaned over to pick up something off the closet floor and wham!  I pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve, because here it is 2 1/2 weeks later and I'm still shuffling around with a backache.  So we didn't walk about NOLA as much as I had hoped.  Enough to see plenty of sights, but not nearly enough.  There's a lot in that city to take in.  I've been going there all my life, and haven't seen half of it.  But yet it's small enough that when you're there, you don't feel swallowed up.  If you've never been it truly is worth at least one visit.  It really is the Big Easy.  Outdoor cafes and shops, museums, a trolley that for $1.25 will take you from one end of the city to the other, a leisurely ride down the great Mississippi on a paddleboat.  Culture and art and music everywhere.  And oh my god the food!  The city can be whatever you want it to be, and no one there looks at you when you walk down the sidewalk as though you don't belong there.  In New Orleans, they want you there with them!  As far as I'm concerned, if you'd never heard of Hurricane Katrina- you would never know it had happened.  The city is as clean and colorful and alive as it ever was.  J had never been pre-Katrina, so he was surprised on our first visit together a few years ago.  I never tire of visiting there.  Even the most dilapidated building oozes charm.

This past weekend, I was a frenzy of activity, getting the house cleaned up from top to bottom, and prepping a few meals in advance.  I had several custom orders to make from my Etsy shop- including one lady who ordered seven pieces of pottery- and still two more to fill as well.  Unfortunately the things I already have listed are still not selling, but as I said before, I know I'm not going to get rich ten bucks at a time, nor do I plan to even try.  I asked the doctor about getting back to my pottery, and he said it would actually be an excellent therapy to help build my hand strength back up.  Hopefully he will give me the go ahead next week at my follow up appointment.  Anyhow, I just wanted to make sure that I had taken care of everything that I could, so that this week I could set any worries aside and just rest.  J is wonderful about helping with the housework- the man was single for over a decade when I met him so he knows how to clean up after himself.  He swears he has forgotten how to do laundry, but I'm sure I could give him a crash course if need be.

Even amid all the housework for me and extensive yardwork for J, we managed to have our typical fun as well.  Saturday morning we had to go run an errand in the next county over (J has a particular place where he buys all his fertilizer and such), so we stopped in at their farmers market.  It was small but bountiful!  I stopped to look at each and every booth and I thought to myself, wow I could almost do all of our grocery shopping right here, and wouldn't it be so much healthier.  The market was full of the things I expected to see like veggies and fruits and herbs.  And I was delighted to see items like bacon, beef, fish, eggs, milk, butter, cheese.  I found breads, pastas, cakes, cookies, salsa, jams, honey, nuts, pet treats, teas, soaps, flowers, wine, beer, even a locally made coffee. Someone was even selling pottery, and there was a colorful little food truck making crepes for breakfast.  We have a ton of farmers markets in the area, I just don't normally go to them, I am always taken in by that buy one get one free ad from the big chain grocery store instead.  And the farmers market in our town is actually pretty small and we've been disappointed the few times we've gone.  But the next town over is a bit more affluent, yet is not too far to drive to get the freshest and healthiest, wholesome ingredients.  And the farmers market there is right next to the organic grocery store, which we sadly do not have in our little town.  I know the frozen diet dinners are low in calories, but am I really doing my body any favors by digesting all those unpronounceable chemicals?  I asked J, what do you think? Can we meet all our needs at the farmers market?  He said he would leave that decision up to me, but wondered what we will do for our condiments like mayo and ketchup.  Okay, so maybe I would still need to run into the store to grab up a few things.  Pardon me as I stole these photos from their wonderful website.

We took in our favorite auction on Saturday night, where I picked up a few new vintage kitchenware items and a spectacular oil painting of a lighthouse in a beautiful frame that I got for $10 because no one else wanted it.  I got two Longaberger baskets, which I've collected since the early 1980's, for $5 each because no one bid against me on those either.  Even the smallest of these baskets, sell for $45 new and the ones I bought were dated 1987.  The latest item that I've been collecting are old washboards with glass inserts, and I was able to snap up another one for $10.  I've seen these selling on Etsy for $40.  J added to his coin collection, and also bought a box of vintage beer steins, he said with intentions of reselling them online.  We are still mulling over how to start up selling all our vintage finds.  Etsy and eBay are bombarded with folks doing the same, and unless we repurpose the items into something fresh and never before seen, I'm not sure online is the route we want to go.  There are plenty of antique stores and shows around here, but again, everyone else is doing the same thing.  I have a friend who I lunched with last week, and she does this as a side business.  She has a booth set up at an antique mall, but she says she pretty much breaks even every month.  To me, that wouldn't be worth the time and energy.  I wouldn't mind doing a show or festival now and again, at least that's something interactive and a great day spent outdoors.  We'll see, J and I are tossing the idea around for 2014.

But for this week, and for the next day or two, I'm just bumming around the homestead.   We've got a baseball game on Saturday night- looks like our team will make the playoffs this year and J is banking on being able to go to the World Series- but for now I've promised to go with him this weekend as the season is winding down.  I was able to make some pottery this morning- just new beads because I don't have to use my wrist or thumb- all I do there is gently roll the clay around in the palm of my hand. But I'm going to keep at it, and eventually I know they will start selling.  I already have the clay, the glaze, the kiln, and the time.  It doesn't cost anything but the nominal listing fee on Etsy.  I do confess that since we returned from our trip, I've been tearing through paperbacks pretty quickly.  I think I've read four since last week, and will probably finish another one today.  I will read just about anything, but I have a strong preference for non-fiction.  History, biographies, true crime.  Truth really is stranger- and vastly more interesting- than fiction.  I "inherited" several boxes of paperbacks from J's grandmother before she passed away, but she read light romances.  She made me promise her I would read them, that I just wouldn't haul them off for trade at the used bookstore.  So they are sitting amid my collection in the basement, and eventually- when I have nothing else to read- I will get around to Granny's Danielle Steel and Debbie Macomber books.  Who can callously go back on a promise made to a dying grandmother!

I've been spending the last few days in my favorite spot, the chair in the corner of our bedroom.  It huddles next to a window overlooking our backyard.  After J brought me home from my surgery, I asked him to please fill all the feeders and put out fresh water for the animals.  Sunflowers and seeds for the birds, corn and peanuts for the squirrels.  I littered the yard with old bread.  Sitting in my chair I can see most of the feeders.  I can see the two scraggly "trees", really just overgrown bushes that J mows around.  It gives the birds someplace quick to dart off to, after they steal a seed or two from the feeder.  Soon it will be cool enough that I can actually open the windows and feel the breezes and become engulfed in the nonstop birdsong.  But even so, with the windows closed, I can hear the unmistakable chatter of the chickadees and the caw caw of the crows.  Yesterday I sat and watched as the big black birds chased away our neighborhood red-tailed hawk.  We have dozens of species of birds in our area, some seasonal, some taking up residence in one of the many birdhouses we have all over our property.  Nothing is as sweet as watching a baby bluebird poke its head out, waiting for mom or dad to return with a snack.  But we also see plenty of deer, raccoons, possums, armadillos, bats, foxes, coyotes, owls, turkeys, rabbits, chipmunks, wood rats and mice.  Not to mention the non-fuzzy fellows in my flower gardens like snakes, giant frogs, skinks, gorgeous bees, turtles, dragonflies, and more types of spiders and butterflies than I can keep count of.  You name it, they are in our little backyard habitat.  We welcome them all.  And it's always an "oh my gosh come and look!" moment for us.

But there's also something magical about that old chair in the corner.  Whenever I sit down in it, whether to read or just watch the suburban nature show for awhile, the cats seem to always find me.  They can be sound asleep upstairs, but let my butt touch that chair cushion and here they come.  All of them.  I've had as many as three at one time in the chair with me.  One behind my head, one in my lap or on the armrest, and one on the ottoman draped over my feet.  There is always a fourth one left to sit on the floor and look up at me, trying to figure out where he can squeeze in too.  I'm not sure I would want to stay home if it weren't for the company of our feline family.  And frankly, I don't trust people who don't have pets.  I don't mean my awful neighbors who keep their two pitbulls on short chains behind their house, I want to kill those people (I'm afraid to complain to the authorities because I worry they would put the dogs down simply because they are pits, but they are friendly pups).  I mean, people who just don't have any kind of affinity for animals- or reptiles- at all.  It's something I don't understand.  I don't think mankind was meant to live separate from the rest of nature.  I'm all for the urban uptown condo bike to the coffee house lifestyle, but there should be at least one fat fluffy cat or yappy terrier in that highrise home.  Even J, when I met him, a big gruff single guy in his 30's managing a warehouse of other men- came home to his sweet kitty every day.  She was all he had, the one who cuddled with him on the couch to watch TV, the one who greeted him at the door after a long rough day.  I can't imagine not having pets, even if it is just a tank full of bright and happy fish.

Is there anything more wonderful in life, than a wagging tail or a soft meow?  I think not.

MISS GEE