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I've only been talking about it since the day I found that the jammy bottoms my son's sister left in her closet here fit me now! I came up with more excuses than usual to not have a picture taken in them. I really really don't like most(ok, all) of the pictures I've had taken over the past 11 or so years. Then, I decided to just get it over with and handed the camera to Golan last night and told him to shoot me. He did, and I actually am quite pleased with the way I look in them! Right. Now, you tell me how I look 60 lbs lighter.
See how much room there is in the legs? And never mind the chins. I also don't really want to talk about how much it hurt to force myself to stand up straight. Back when I was young, beautiful and able to walk, I had very good posture, but, now that my spine is distegrating, I'm kind of bent over when I stand up. I figured this out from the pictures I posted yesterday.The original plan for these jammy pictures was to have Pegasus in them too, but he wasn't having any of it and plopped himself down on the floor to my right. He's getting almost as good as I am at hiding from cameras. Smart doggy
Nothing much of any note happened yesterday, and here we are at Tuesday, waiting to see who/if anyone shows up for the weekly cleaning hour The kitchen is in pretty good shape for a change, so, I think we'll do the 'pantry' instead of dishes and stove top before we do the floor. Or, maybe, change the bed. I have about half an hour to cogitate on the international implications of the options!
I am doing this under protest. I really do not like having my picture taken, and I dislike posting it on the interweb even more. Yeah, I know I've posted more than a few here, but, in my defense, they were only to illlustrate events. I have now been convinced that losing 60 pounds IS an event that needs a picture posted. So, here's one, in illustration of the first time in close to 11 years that I bought a 'sweat suit' at a proper sized people store. Thanks to this picture I have discovered that I can not stand up straight any more. Oh, well, here I am 60 lbs. lighter.
The neckline of the top is a little crooked, but, then, so am I! Just try and imagine hauling around 60 lbs more. Scary, isn't it? There will be another picture coming along one of these days. It will illustrate the jammy bottoms I raided from my son's sister's closet, and the jammy bottoms are getting a little bigger! I am the world's champion spiller and there were coffee and soup spots on the thighs of the jammy bottoms, and I wasn't about to have a picture taken with those stains. I finally got them clean and am fast running out of excuses to not have the picture taken!
Nothing of earth shattering consequence has happened since my last post except that my son called, and they have another baby on the way. Ok, so, that isn't world shattering news, but it is pretty exciting to this gimpy old granny. I'm not sure when the new member of the family is due. I kind of forgot to ask because we got into the whole 'I do not want to know the baby's gender' thing My son's generation is used to everything NOW and just can't wait for much of anything. The sad thing is that because they can find out the gender in the early months, they will never know the delicious feeling of anticipation that parents of my generation had.I might be brain damaged and a little forgetful these days, but I do remember how much fun it was to wonder if it would be a boy or a girl and talking about names for either option. Back in those olden days, it was possible to find out the gender by amniocentesis(sp) but that was usually only done to check for suspected defects after an ultra sound or if there was a family history. Ultra sound was pretty primitive in those days and it was really hard to figure out what the baby would be. These days even a half blind person can see for themselves what it will be.That is good medically, but, it takes away all that wonderful anticipation. Yup, the NOW generation sure is missing out on one of the most wonderous experiences we of the 'medical dark ages' got to enjoy until the very end. Unless of course, you were married to my ex husband, and he was in the labor room with you. In that case the anticipation could last a little longer. When my son's sister was born, the baby catcher announced that she was a girl. Her father disagreed with that medical opinion and argued that, "No, It's a boy!" They went back and forth on that a few times until the poor, sore, wondering mother said that she'd go with the baby catcher on that as he has more experience in gener recognition! Poor Daddy finally figured out that, yes, it's a girl! Ah, the good old days. Of course I still like anticipating things. Just about anything. It's one of life's greatest pleasures for me.I wake up every morning thankful that I will be able to find out what the new day holds for me. Ok, sometimes I could be happier without some of the things, but, that's just the way it goes sometimes. Even then, I'm thankful for even those days.I just love being alive and able to function at all. Anticipation is, to me,one of the best parts of being alive. That, and curiosity.
I have a very close friend from early childhood whose bithday and old home phone number are indelible in my mind. I sent her an e card on her birthday and never got notification that she opened it. That got me to thinking that maybe I had the wrong e daay for her, and came up with the bright idea of contacting her through Facebook. It worked, and then, I found out that she had gone to Maine to help her mother who had broken her arm. So, yeah, of course I called. She had taken herself off to an interweb coffee house, so, wasn't home (duh). I did have a most wonderful chat with her mother. Boy did that ever take me back in time. It was a bittersweet reminder of my own mother, and after we hung up I got a little nostalgically weepy, but it was a very nice weepiness. Part of it was that she brought my mother and childhood back so clearly, and that I was talking to someone who had actually known me pretty much from the day I was born and my whole life history was pretty much known to her. It was wonderful, and I do know that my friend knows just how fortunate she is to still have her mother.I still ache all over missing my parents.But, I do still have my brother, and that's wonderful. I adore and admire that kid so much. And am ever so thankful that I still have him.
I've had, what? 58 birthdays so far and I remember very few of them. What I do remember from the last 9 or so is how happy I was to be here for them. Today easily qualifies as one of the worst ever. I was awake unti well after 0300, and was woken by the phone at 0830. Yes, this time I did answer the blue tooth, not a cigarette lighter. The minute I heard my friend Etty's voice, I knew what she was going to tell me. Her husband Yaacov passed away last Thursday and she couldn't reach me to tell me before the funeral. Etty and Yaacov were the only people that I stayed in touch with from Nazareth Elite after I moved here. There are few better friends than they. Yaacov had hands that could fix anything and a sense of humor that would have put most standupists to shame. He was one smart guy. The world is a sadder place without him in it. They are sitting Shiva at his mother's house near Tiberius, which means I can easily visit as there are no stairs to negotiate. I'm thinking of maybe going tomorrow.
The car needed to have it's annual inspection today. As I can't exactly get into the office myself, Golan went with me, and did that part. Then, I brought him back here and went back to go through the test. After the headlights were checked and I was informed that the car doesn't need glasses, I had to move up to a pit so they could check stuff from there. As soon as I stopped over the pit, I was overwhelmed and the tears started. It's just so sad that a guy who is only 60 years old gets a brain tumor and then dies. He had so much to live for. Both their sons are now married and have kids and are doing well in general. He was so proud of them and should have had more time to enjoy them. After a few weepy moments, I got control again and finished the test. The only thing wrong was the wiper blades but for NIS 30 they were changed on the spot and the car is good to go. Of course I had to take it back to that office I can't get into. The tester guy grabbed someone who was going in and asked him to sort it for me. He did, and even put the new sticker on for me. So, the car is good to go. It will get it's annual wash for passing the test tomorrow as it's kind of raining today. Now that that's all over with, I can get on with being sad. It certainly goes with the weather.
I don't much like my birthday any more. I used to like it a lot more when my father was still alive and sent that annual birthday/ Hannukah check. Not for the money, but because he remembered. I miss him all the time, but it's even worse at this time of the year.One thing that do like about my birthday is (are you ready for this?) that I am one year older than I was on my last one. With all the things that have gone wrong with me, I never quite expected to make it this far, but am quite pleased that I did. I bought myself a present this year and am trying to pretend to myself that it's from my father.
Isn't she cute? Golan is going to help hang her up someplace later. Gimp House doesn't exactly have a lot of spare floor space for her to take up, so, we'll just have to hang her.
Another thing I'm giving myself for birthday is to send an unused cell phone to a friend in The States. She really can't afford one right now, and I don't use this one, so why not?
All in all it's shaping up to be a fine birthday and I hope I have lots more! (wicked grin of evility)
It really is fun being me, or should I say funny? I never know what I'm going to do next! So far I've used my right ear as an ash tray, slammed my face in the fridge door, almost wiped dog poop off the floor with my face, driven Harley up the side of Gimp House and been dumped unceremoniously onto the ramp. But the latest doesn't fall short of the others except that it really posed no danger to me at all, which makes it all the funnier.
Every night when I climb into bed, I put my blue tooth 'ear' on the table next to 'my' side of the bed. The cell phones go on the other side of my bed and just lie there getting charged. The other morning the main cell phone rang and I reached for the blue tooth 'ear' to answer it. The phone was still ringing but I didn't hear anyone on the other end of the ear. I finally gave in and opened my eyes to find out what was wrong with the 'ear' and discovered that I was trying to answer a cigarette lighter that is similar in shape to the 'ear'. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, I decided that the best course of action was to just go back to sleep.
Now, who can honestly say that they know someone who has done even one of those things I've managed to do in the last six months or so?
Yes, it really is fun to be me. I never know what I'm going to do next. It's fun finding out, though.
