So far, so good

Yes, I've had two good days in a row.  I intended to do an entry yesterday, but I got busy and just let it go.  Day before yesterday I had planned to get back to walking and riding on the recumbent bike, but I went in another direction:  We went to Blue Springs and visited Cliff's sister.  This was a big deal for me, because about the only places I had gone in two weeks were the doctor's office and the emergency room.  My body had gotten used to laying around all the time.  Cliff's sister cuts his hair these days, and we always stay long enough for a little visit with her.  She lives in Blue Springs; in my lifetime that city has grown from a small town into a large suburb of Kansas City, and there's an Aldi's there.  So I went in to stock up on canned goods and get a few bargains.  On the trip to Blue Springs, at Rena's house, and on the way back home, I ran my mouth nonstop!  I'm surprised I didn't wear Cliff's hearing aids out.  It just felt good to be feeling normal and going somewhere besides a doctor's office.

Yesterday, too, was fine.  Our United Health Care Medicare plan sends a nurse out each year to check our general health; I almost felt it was a waste of time this year, since I've seen plenty of doctors lately, but if we don't let them come, the insurance company hounds us to death insisting we need it.  This year our nurse was a very pleasant man who was born in Kenya.  He said the reason the insurance company has this program is that so many older people don't go to a doctor unless they have something really serious that forces them to see a doctor, and they want people to be proactive about their health.

I mentioned here before that I was thinking about going to a cardiologist, but after a couple of days of feeling well, I had almost decided against it; however, when I mentioned my irregular heartbeat, the visiting nurse was rather concerned.

 When they checked my vitals before the endoscopy, one nurse called it a "tach".  When I looked that up on Google, I found that's short for tachycardia;  Anyway, my regular doctor has always said my irregular heartbeat was something to watch, but shouldn't be of concern yet.  The nurse yesterday asked if I had been to a cardiologist and I told him my regular doctor didn't think that was necessary, but that I was thinking about going to one anyhow; he said he thought that would be a good idea.  That was just the nudge I needed to make an appointment with Cliff's cardiologist as soon as the nurse left.     

I did manage to go for a walk yesterday.  Mostly I just caught up on some household chores.  I took about two hours sorting out all the Little People things I bought for Cora and me when I was babysitting... house, barn, fences, tractors, animals... all of it.  Once sorted out, I put them on Facebook Marketplace for $50 (there are hundreds of dollars invested in that stuff); after putting it on there, I noticed there are lots of people selling Little People toys for a pittance, so I probably won't get rid of it, even at that low price.  I may end up donating it to Goodwill.  I need to be getting rid of some things; our trailer house has too much "stuff" in it.  I still have dolls and other toys around for the great-grandchildren when they visit, although on Brynn's last visit, she played with a coffee can and some kitchen utensils, instead of toys.

Cliff and the grandson have been fencing most days when Arick gets home from work; they have been stopping in time for Arick to go hunting for morel mushrooms, and he has found a lot of them.  He shared them with us; I imagine they did very well on last night's venture, because we had gotten some rain the night before.  We have some left, so I've been dicing them and adding them to scrambled eggs.  They are delicious fried, and I did have some once last week when my reflux wasn't hurting me; but fried foods are bad for reflux, and I must stay away from grease most of the time.  There's very little butter in scrambled eggs when I use a non-stick skillet, and I think that's a better choice than deep-frying.

I believe that catches me up.  In June I'll be seeing both the gastro doctor and the cardiologist, and by that time I will be have been eating correctly for eight to ten weeks.  Oh, and when I get on the scales right out of bed, I weigh 145.  Both specialists will approve, I'm sure. 

And that's the way it is.

*I've had to engage "captcha" on my blog, which I hate doing; until recently, I only received spam comments on older posts, and it was easy to delete them.  But this new one made three comments on my last post.  I think I deleted a non-spam comment accidentally, doing that.  I often have problems with Captcha on others' blogs, but I have to do it.

I'm feeling "normal"!

I haven't been out of bed long, so I may be speaking too soon; but I cherish this moment and am counting my blessings.  As I read more on reliable web sites about this condition, Barrett's Esophagus, I'm finding hope.  The preacher's wife at one of the churches I attend told me her father has dealt with this condition for years; he follows the proper diet strictly, and never eats after 6 PM.  If he doesn't eat by then, he doesn't eat that evening.  He has actually had surgery of some kind that helped.  

I've learned online that most fruit and vegetables are good, with the exception of tomatoes and citrus fruit.  Overeating causes trouble; too much meat can cause problems.  Milk and other dairy products can be problematic... that one will be difficult for me (no ice cream?), but if it keeps me pain-free, I'm game.  I stopped drinking coffee two years ago and switched to tea, but it's suggested that tea isn't good for me, either.  I wish I could find an herb tea I liked.

Today I'm not light-headed, my blood pressure is getting near normal, and my stomach doesn't hurt.  I read that most people are first diagnosed with Barrett's Esophagus in their fifties.  I'm thankful I wasn't bothered with it until my seventies.  Yesterday I planted two tomato plants; one is a yellow tomato, which I'm told doesn't have as much acid.  

By the way, I decided last night not to take the pill the nurse/practitioner gave me for depression two weeks ago.  My only depression is when I am feeling ill, and I don't need another pill in the mix.  Hmm... is that why I feel good today? 

I wish it would rain, but if it doesn't, the dog and I will walk back to the woods.  I'll get back on the recumbent bicycle for a few minutes.  

I'm back to reading instead of napping and watching television; I happened to watch "The Lincoln Lawyer" on Prime, and realized I hadn't read a Michael Connelly book in years; I immediately checked one out on the iPad and am thoroughly enjoying it.

I thank God I have nothing to whine about at this point in the day, and many blessings to count.

If you are one of my readers who follows this blog by email, be aware that Blogger is doing away with that feature in July.

I'm getting by

Things are looking better.  The high blood pressure is responding to the new med little by little.  My esopagus is settling down somewhat, and has been looked at and photographed, as well as my stomach.  I have Barrett's esophagus.  It's more common in men, but I'm one of the lucky women to have it.

I'm still pretty light-headed at times, and I really have no idea what's causing that.  I just want to be back to normal, or some semblance of normal.  I want to feel like getting on the exercise bike and going for short walks again.  

Our temperatures are in the 80's, with high winds.  We are having one of those weeks where we're going someplace almost every day!  Yesterday was my endoscopy at 1:30; imagine how hungry I was by then!  Cliff has a dentist appointment today around noon, and Thursday we have our annual visit from the nurse the medicare folks send around.  

I think I probably need to be more careful of what I eat; I enjoy good old-fashioned food, lots of butter, and a little sugar added to everything.  I like things flavored in bacon grease and fried in lard; I can't keep doing that.  I'm not supposed to eat acidic things, so no more oranges.  I love all fruit, though.  I'm hoping I can always eat grapes.  I enjoy vegetables.  If watching what I eat helps keep me pain-free, I can do it.  

And that's my report for now.  

    

Hello

I'm still here.  I'll be having my procedure done Monday and we'll see what secret weapons the gastro doctor has for my stomach.  After that, I'm thinking of making an appointment with Cliff's cardiologist on my own, unless my blood pressure settles down.  I've had a harmless heart murmur for years, and an irregular heartbeat for a couple of years; they haven't worried about it so far, they just keep track of it.  Now that my blood pressure went so high for days, I'm thinking if my doctor doesn't send me to a cardiologist, I'll send myself.  I hate to do that, because I'm afraid I'll have to start taking blood thinners; but if that's what needs to be done, so be it.

However, I just took my blood pressure and it was actually normal.  So maybe the amlodipine will do the job; it's what my mother took for years.  I haven't had any of the other symptoms associated with heart problems such as shortness of breath or chest pain.  One day at a time.

We have had some crazy weather this week, as many across the country have.  Three inches of snow that was mostly gone by noon, two nights of freezing.  Yesterday was cool but sunny, and I went out with Gabe and walked around a bit.  He misses our walks, and I do too, but since I have been getting light-headed every once in awhile, I didn't want to get too far from the house; I took my phone with me, just in case.  The sunshine was therapeutic.  Alas, there's no sunshine today, but the weekend looks as if it will be nice. 

That's about all I have, unless you want reviews of things I've watched on Netflix.  I'm joking, but I have watched a lot of television, something I don't usually do in the daytime.  I didn't really feel like reading, which I much prefer to do when I'm feeling fine.

That's how things are going at my house.  

   

A brief update

Today may be a better day.  

I'm taking a different blood pressure med, added to the one I was already taking.  Last night my BP numbers were better than they had been for a week, although still somewhat high; I think it takes awhile to get the blood pressure going in the right direction.  

I was still so miserable with acid reflex when I visited the doctor Monday; I asked if I could take Sucralfate again, because eighteen months ago it was the only thing that seemed to help.  It has to be taken at least an hour before a meal and at bedtime, four times daily, but it worked before, and this morning after taking it for two days, I find it's giving me relief again (knock wood).  Honestly, it seems to have less long-term side effects than omeprazole, which does nothing for me these days.  Samantha was hesitant to prescribe it, but she gave me enough for a month and said to ask the specialist if it's OK for me at this time.

I rescheduled the procedure I missed last Friday, so I will be having that done Tuesday of next week.

I've "slept" in a recliner for the last four nights, but last night I slept in bed.  I woke up at 2 AM, which is too early.  But I got more rest that I've had for a long time, and I think I'm going to crawl back in bed again.  

I believe that about sums it up.  Getting old is not for sissies.  I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but I was waiting until I felt better to update.  Thanks to all of you who expressed concern while I was away from blogging.  I simply did not feel like getting on the computer, and there really wasn't much to tell anyhow.

Peace.

The day after

I slept in the recliner again last night, and woke up pain-free!  I thought I was back to normal, but washing dishes this morning wore me out, so I'll take it easy for awhile.  

It's strange about the low potassium, because I was at our regular doctor Tuesday and potassium was normal.  At the hospital they told me it wasn't terribly low.  I believe the doctor said "a little low".  he nurse mixed some up in a foul-tasting sports drink in a cup and gave it to me.  I did feel more energetic afterward; when I first got to the hospital, I was afraid to walk to the bathroom by myself.

One part of the problem is that my blood pressure prescription is a water pill; I take one in the morning, one at night.  My mother started feeling bad on the same med, went to the doctor, and he told her she was low in potassium because of her blood pressure prescription, the same one I take.  He prescribed  potassium for her to take each day; it was a liquid, and she complained about how awful it tasted.  I recall her saying she had been so weak and tired, she could hardly walk.  My father asked the doctor if he was low on potassium, since he took the same B/P pill as mother.  The doctor told him, "If the time comes that you need it, you will know something's wrong."

I should add that the first B/P med I was prescribed years ago was an ACE inhibitor and gave me a dry hacking cough that wouldn't let me sleep at night.  That happens in 1/3 of the people who take it.

I normally have lots of fruit and vegetables in my diet, but with the pain of acid reflux, I was afraid to eat fruit, and I wasn't really feeling well enough to fix a decent meal; poor Cliff was very understanding, but he he can't even cook an egg properly, and I have tried to teach him.  I think the height of his cooking abilities would be baking a potato in the microwave; when I first told him how... poke it all over with a fork and put it in the microwave... and explained how long to cook it, he had a baked potato for three nights straight.  I should explain that he's on his own in the evening.  I try to make a decent meal at noon and he makes a sandwich or heats up something leftover for supper.

I'm still sitting here thinking how wonderful it is to have no stomach pain.  I don't know if it will last, but it's a treat, for sure.  

I hope for now this issue is over.  Whether it is or isn't, I promise that unless something really terrible happens, the next blog entry I do will not be me whining about my problems.

Have a great day!  I intend to. 

Life sometimes gives you curves

I wanted to sleep in bed last night instead of in the recliner.  My stomach felt a little better, so I tried it.  At 1 AM I woke up feeling like I was on fire and went to the recliner, thinking at least we'd know more about what's happening.  I dozed a little, but I was so miserable.  I tried to read my book, but couldn't concentrate.  I've been weak for days, and could hardly put one foot in front of the other.  By the way, the procedure I was due for is an upper GI.  Nurses call it an EDG, but here's the real name for it:  esophagogastroduodenoscopy.  

I was supposed to be there for my appointment at 7:30, so I woke Cliff up at 5:45 and went to shower, still feeling really weak, my esophagus burning, but not quite as bad as when I first got out of bed.  Something came over me in the shower and I didn't think I'd be able to finish.  I felt so strange; I hardly had the energy to wash my hair.  I was afraid to step out of the tub, but leaned on the wall and made it; I put down the lid of the toilet, sat down on it, and called to Cliff.  By the time he got there I was nauseous, but there was nothing to vomit because I hadn't eaten for 12 hours and hadn't had any water since before midnight, per directions of the doctor doing the GI.  I also had not taken my morning blood pressure pill; I didn't think that was a big deal; I'd just take it when we came home. 

Cliff called the ambulance, and they were here in ten minutes.  Our ambulance is all volunteer; two young men were in charge on this visit.  The one who rode in back with me monitored my vitals and kept me talking a little.  I told him I was laying in my recliner wanting to die half the night, then looked up and said, "I didn't mean it, God," sort of as a joke.  That nudged something in him and he said, "Would you like me to pray for you?"

Hey, I'll take all the prayers I can get.  And that was obviously a young man very close to God, because he laid a hand on my shoulder and prayed as sweet a prayer as I ever heard.   

Cliff followed behind the ambulance, and away we went to  Centerpoint, which is where I was supposed to have my upper GI... but I'll have to reschedule that now.  

My blood pressure was 210 over 90.  I was low on potassium and dehydrated.  I drank six cups of water yesterday, but since I can't eat much, I guess that wasn't enough.  They gave me some potassium and hydrated me through IV; my blood pressure got down to 158, and I came home.  

I would say THE END, but I still have to get my upper GI.  And why is it something like this always happens right before the weekend, so you have to wait two days before you can make an appointment?

Just one more bump on the road of life.

Not much to say today

My mother used to say, "When it rains, it pours."  

I don't have to worry about dementia for awhile, as I told you in yesterday's entry; but wouldn't you know, I woke up with terrible acid reflux at 1 AM.  I have been having a little trouble with that lately, again.  Two years ago, I had an endoscopy done because I had terrific stomach pain; the doctor really didn't seem to find a particular cause, but somehow the pain subsided.  I didn't really care for the doctor who did the procedure.  I never met him before the endoscopy, and he didn't seem all that friendly afterward.  

I got over the tummy problem.  I think I was supposed to go back in a year and have the test done again, but I felt fine (sounds like a man's excuse, doesn't it?).  However, when I mentioned to nurse Samantha that I was having occasional problems with heartburn again, she told me I need to go see my specialist.

This time the problem isn't in my stomach.  I know this pain ALL too well; it's pure, unadulterated acid reflux.  I had a bleeding ulcer in my esophagus about forty years ago, and this is that same pain.  So far I don't seem to have any bleeding (I assume you all know how one finds that out), but I got the same doctor's number this morning and called for an appointment.  He was one of several doctors at that practice; I was told he had moved on (yay).  The lady looked for another doctor with the nearest available appointment slot and found one who can do my procedure Friday... day after tomorrow.  Great!  Get this over with, I say.

When I woke up last night, I came to the living room recliner as miserable as I could be; had the pain been from some other cause, I'd have awakened Cliff and gone to an emergency room.  It didn't go away, but it eased enough that I went back to sleep in the recliner until 5 AM.  I had a dental appointment at noon today, but called and cancelled it.  I just don't feel like keeping it.    

So far this week we've gone to the doctor, cancelled the dentist, and made an appointment to have a procedure done tomorrow.  Oh yes, and we paid $325 to have our septic tank emptied yesterday.  I guess that stimulus money is good for something, but the dentist may have to wait until next month.  I need my own secretary to keep track of our appointments around here.

What a pitiful, woe-is-me entry this is.  A better day is coming.

Once again, I'm keeping it real

I don't remember as well as I once did.  I had not worried about it, since most folks my age said they felt the same way.  I'd talk about going into a room and forgetting what I went after, or forgetting the name of someone I know well, they said they'd been there too.  But something about this last winter has changed me, and when I seemed to be getting even more forgetful, I decided I had better get tested for dementia.  Cliff had wanted me to do that since two years ago when we went to Memphis:  "You're going bye-bye," he kept telling me.

I always have winter depression, but this year when spring hit, it got worse.  I began crying at things that shouldn't bother me.  While I'd love to travel a bit (within our means), I didn't want to go on little bitty 100-mile road trips.  I got those out of my system when we had the motorcycle.  (I would like to travel someplace I've never been, though, somewhere far away.)

Suddenly, everything seemed to make me cry.  I have never been a cryer.  I don't cry at close relatives' funerals.  That always bothered me, because I imagine people assumed I didn't love the deceased person, but I refuse to fake-cry to make others feel better about me.  Nowadays I cry at the drop of a hat, and I'll even drop the hat!

I cried at  this:

I cry at the old hymns like this one below.

Whispering Hope

Jim Reeves

Soft as the voice of an angel
Breathing a lesson unheard
Hope with a gentle persuasion
Whispers her comforting word

Wait 'til the darkness is over
Wait 'til the tempest is done
Hope for the sunshine tomorrow
After the darkness is gone

Whispering hope (whispering hope, whispering hope)
Oh, how welcome Thy voice (welcome Thy voice, oh, how welcome Thy voice)
Making my heart (making my heart, making my heart)
In its sorrow rejoice (in its sorrow rejoice)

If in the dusk of the twilight
Dim be the region afar
Will not the deepening darkness
Brighten the glimmering star

Then when the night is upon us (ooh)
Why should the heart sink away?
When the dark midnight is over
Watch for the breaking of day.

Yesterday I made an appointment with Samantha, the nurse-practitioner at the clinic.  The lady at the appointment desk asked what I needed to see her for, and I told her I'd been having a few stomach problems again, although that wasn't the real reason; I just didn't want to have to tell her I wanted to be sent somewhere to find out whether I have dementia.  The clinic had an opening at 9:30 this morning.  I thought, "Good!  Let's get this over with."  I made a list of all the reasons I wanted to be tested and took it with me.    

When I told the nurse who took my vitals what I really wanted, she went out of the exam room and came back with quite a few questions on her computer to ask me.  I felt like I was failing the test, as she asked me one question after another.  "Can you spell 'world'?" she said.  Of course I could, but then she asked me to spell it backward.  It took me 5 attempts to remember the "r".  I truly thought I had flunked the test.  As a side note, when I got to the car, I asked Cliff to spell world backward; he too forgot the "r".

But when Samantha came in, she said, "I don't think you have dementia.  I think you have depression."  

Well, I already knew that, but isn't that part of dementia?  

She assured me I was not ready to be tested.  She said people start wondering if they have it, and then worry about it.

I recently read Michael J. Fox's latest, and probably last, book, about his challenges with Parkinson's disease:  He was diagnosed at age 29, thirty years ago.  If you think you have it bad, please read his book.  At this point, he can no longer act; but back when he was playing a villain on "The Good Wife" showing obvious symptoms of his awful disease and managed to make me laugh, he became my hero (here I am welling up with tears again).  He is my inspiration whenever I get down and out. 

Rejoice with me, dear followers.  I'm not headed for the funny farm yet.  But would somebody please pass the tissues?

Passwords

Ever since we bought our first Gateway computer in 1998, I have fought with passwords; they have been the bane of my existence.  How on earth, I thought, is someone supposed to keep track of all those passwords on all those websites?  I'd keep a notebook beside the computer and write them all down.  Then I'd lose the notebook, or a page from a notebook, and have to make a new password to write down.  Although I knew you are supposed to use a different password for every site, but I ignored that advice and used something I might remember on several websites; that way I could remember it without having to look it up.

If only I had used Google twenty-five years ago and searched something like, "I keep losing my passwords".  About six months ago, I learned that all my passwords were stored within the browser of my computer.  I imagine most of you have known this for years, but not this dummy!  I don't even know how I found this out, but somehow I stumbled onto it and wondered why I didn't at least ask someone knowledgeable.

Well, there is a simple answer:  I was embarrassed by my ignorance.  My "someone knowledgeable" would be my daughter, Rachel.  In the beginning I was asking her questions all the time, and she'd show me what to do.  But she has a busy life and a job that includes working on a computer all day, and I felt bad using up her spare time so often.  I decided to live in ignorance and hope my computer didn't explode.  She had never complained, at least to me.  I just felt bad about bothering her when she worked so hard.

Fast-forward twenty-three years.  However it happened, I found out if I clicked on the word "Chrome" at the top of my Chrome browser, then clicked on "preferences", I only had to type in my computer password and it showed me all my passwords, even on sites I hadn't used in years.  What a life-changer!  I still had an occasional problem, though.  

I use two different browsers:  Chrome used to be my browser of choice, but after I went to the dark side (Apple) I decided to use Safari, the browser that comes with a Mac.  However, there seemed to be some things that just worked better on Chrome, so I installed it too, and now I switch back and forth a lot.  Here's another thing I recently figured out:  If you change a password on Safari, that does not change the same password on Google Chrome.  You have to go find your password on Safari and copy-and-paste it to Chrome preferences.  I figured that out all by myself, and felt like I had discovered gold.

You see, when I learned that my browser saves the passwords for me, I began using the "safe" passwords that are a mile long with letters, numbers, one capital letter, etc., so I'm less likely to have my computer hacked.  I don't have to type them out and save them on paper.  

If you are wondering why I use two browsers, it's mainly because of blogs... the ones I read and also my own blog.  Google owns the Chrome Browser; Blogger is also a Google product.  Chrome has many features on blogs that don't even show up on Safari.  If I'm reading other people's blogs, half the time I can't comment unless I'm on Chrome; I can't tell you how often I type in a two-paragraph comment when I'm using Safari, try to post it, and it won't post.  On Chrome, that has never happened.  Live and learn.

On the bright side, I'll be seventy-seven years old in July, and I'm still learning new things.

How I spent Easter

There was no big Easter dinner at our house.  I made chili Saturday and we had enough left over for Sunday; not a traditional Easter dinner, for sure, but at least I didn't feel overstuffed and tired when all was said and done.  No children were here to hunt eggs; grandchildren and their families had other plans, and our daughter and her husband did their own thing like we did.

But I had a great Easter!  The Baptist Church I attend always goes to the Corps of Engineers park, next to the Missouri River, for a sunrise service.  So I left Cliff in bed and the preacher's wife picked me up.  I'm about halfway between their house and the park, so it was on their way.  The morning was cool, but not bad, especially after the sun got high enough to warm us up.  

 

The park is right beside a railroad track, the same one that runs along the back of our property.  We had one train go rumbling past during the service, which stopped us for awhile; it was a long train!  Another passed by as we finished up.  

I was dropped off at home, where I spent an hour or so with Cliff before he took me to town to the Methodist church; when those services were over, I walked three blocks to the Baptist Church.  Cliff and Gabe picked me up there  at 11:30 and we went back home.   I am a loner, but I do like being around some real people every once in awhile; and both small churches are attended by some very nice folks.

Yesterday we went to pick up our grandson and his girl friend at the airport.  They had gone to Georgia for Easter weekend to visit his dad (our son).  

I finally got over myself for fretting over money I don't even feel I should be receiving (and yet covet earnestly).  I am more fragile of spirit these days than I used to be, and I let myself get downhearted at the silliest things.  The shut-down we've had, the never knowing what's really going to happen with this terrible virus, have contributed to some of my current negativity.  I'm sure I'm not the only one.  Oh, and the political climate of the past year didn't help.  

I think perhaps we've come to a "new normal".  If so, I had better learn to adapt.  I'll survive a while longer, as long as my two churches don't close their doors again.

"We're all just walking each other home."  That's a quote by Ram Dass, and I love the picture those words paint.  I think of the blogs I read:  The joys, the pains, the routines, the lives shared.  Truly, we are walking home together as we share pieces of our lives with one another.   

Summer weather, a bit too soon

We haven't had much rain this spring.  We were borderline dry last spring, summer and fall, but the rains that came seemed to come at just the right time for crops, and plants lived and prospered.   Now we're supposed to have temperatures in the 80's.  I always hate to see the weather get hot so soon because that sometimes turns things into a dust bowl, when it isn't raining.  Oh well, you can't do anything about the weather.  

I allowed my day to be ruined this morning.  I woke up expecting to see both our stimulus checks in the bank, since the government site informed me they'd be in the bank today.  Cliff's was there, mine wasn't.  I had already been wondering if something was off, because ever since we got word last Wednesday, the checking account showed $1,400 pending.  My Social Security funds, and also the previous stimulus checks, went into a savings account, but nothing was pending on that account.

I called the bank this morning, waited on hold for 20 minutes, then took them up on their offer of a call-back.  I give them my name and number, they were supposed to get back to me.  Sure enough, I got my call after 15 minutes or so.  I explained what happened to a lady; she said she needed to check some things and said "Please hold for two or three minutes."

Half an hour later, I got sick of listening to that awful "music" they play as one waits and just hung up.  I called again later, asked for a callback, and washed my dishes while I waited.  Got the call, told my sad story to yet another lady.

I let myself get progressively worked up emotionally while all this went on.  I didn't scream at anybody, but I could have cried a few times.  And it was all my fault.  Not that I did anything to make things happen, but I allowed myself to get upset.

The second lady found the problem.  Somehow my savings account number had been treated as a checking account number, which made it invalid.  The problem is solved, and my stimulus money will be ready to spend on Wednesday, but I'm still a mess.  Please understand, we are not used to being handed free money we didn't work for, so it's a big deal in our lives.  For what it's worth, I think somebody's crazy to send money to everyone like they've been doing; we will pay for it as we watch our dollar shrinking.

I must have turned into my mother, or maybe it's just an old person's mental state in general:  every mole hill seems to turn into a mountain in my feeble hands.  I am scared to take my blood pressure right now.  That's what greed will do to a person.

I do feel better, though, now that I've told the whole world my troubles.  Thanks for listening reading, and have a good day, my faithful readers.    

You may not see me for awhile

I've been sort of messing around with genealogy lately.  You really can't do much with it unless you pay a bunch of money so you can use one of the websites, so I wasn't getting far and, actually, pretty much gave it up.  Cliff's brother was here yesterday and said one of his granddaughters was trying to get some family tree exploration done as quickly as possible; she was given a two-week trial on Ancestry, and she doesn't intend to pay for a year when she's done with the trial.  I wanted to tell Phil some of my (few) discoveries on Ancestry, so I came in the house and looked for the person I was telling him about.  It must have been my lucky day, because I, too, received the two-weeks-free offer.

It's a whole different world!  My family tree is growing all by itself!  Okay, I do have to add them myself, but WOW.  

The timing is excellent, because Cliff sold a couple of old Oliver tractors he was going to use as a project last fall.  After buying his John Deere cab tractor, he lost all enthusiasm for projects.  He's sold both tractors, I think... I may come back later and tell you something different on that score.  Anyhow, after he sold the first tractor, he gave me half the money; actually, he begged me to take it.  He's offered some of his tractor money to me before, but I've always steadfastly held my ground and refused.  He seemed so serious about it this time, I accepted without too much fuss, just this once.  

Here's the thing:  I don't need anything, and I really can't think of much I want for any price.  So I decided to have some fun:  "Now that I have some money, I'm going to get another Schnauzer so Gabe will have a buddy."  "I know what I'll do... I'll buy some baby chickens!"  He only puts up with a dog in the house for my benefit; he doesn't care if he ever has a dog, and he would rather not have one in the house even if he did.  And he gets tired of having to set up a chicken house and all that entails. 

But today?  I'll see how this free trial goes, and perhaps pay them for six months at a reduced rate.  I asked Cliff if that was OK, and he said he didn't  care how I spent the money.  Trust me, he cared when I threatened to get another dog, or more chickens.

Wouldn't it be fun if I could trace my family clear back to my favorite king, Alfred the Great?  For it to be legitimate, though, people at a university need to find his bones and perhaps get DNA; click HERE to read about that.  

What I've found out is that a family tree almost builds itself when you can access the whole website, although I think it would be awfully easy to mess up, if one simply adds every suggestion they give you.

So if I disappear for awhile, it's because I'm hunting down a very prolific, apparently pretty lusty group of people.  And there are STORIES!  Also BIRTH CERTIFICATES!

That's what I'm up to.  Keep in mind, though, that my enthusiastic labors can evaporate and disappear at any moment.  Just put something shiny in front of me and I'm apt to head in another direction.

Obviously, one of the idiots who drove me off Facebook is now spamming my blog on each new entry.  I will be deleting his comment each day, but you may see the comment before I get rid of it.  Just so you know.  Doggone it, I can't unfriend him from my blog.