The July Report: Strap In And Let's Do This

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 July has been all over the place so far. This post will probably reflect that. Hang on tight because I have no real idea what this may turn into. Let's go.

1. Cervical Facet Arthropathy/Syndrome and Cervical Epidural Steroid Injection:  This all has nothing to do with lady parts; rather, it's all about a pain in the neck. It seems that my most recent falls have exacerbated the arthritis in my neck and exposed a nerve. I've been in pain and physically limited for months and months, and it finally got bad enough that I was referred to a pain specialist. Long story short, we tried medicine, and on Monday a cortisone shot into my neck/spine. If that doesn't hold, next is a nerve ablation. After that, it's surgery to insert pins/rods. I'm Trying Very Hard to avoid that last thing, which is huge and scary and, to me, the very last resort. So far, I'm really pleased with the injection. Fingers crossed that it gives me relief for a long time.

2. Herb Garden Stuff:  I've already made a batch of pesto from my basil and parsley and dried some oregano. My oregano is from a plant I put in more than 10 years ago. I've had to seed dill twice now because of this horrendous heat. I have a volunteer tomato plant somehow in there (I haven't planted tomatoes there for decades), and my jalapenos from last year seeded themselves smack dab in the middle of my rosemary. Today I pulled 14 jalapeno plants and put them in huge pots along the drive. I'll be making pesto again this week, provoking much joy from Jared and Sam.

3. Social Commentary Or Just Laziness? You Decide:  Sometimes on my walk I am confronted with sights that cause me to ruminate for a block or two. As a former English/Literature/Creative Writing teacher and student, I cannot help but see Deeper Meanings in most things. Plus, it's a nice break from reacting with Just Plain Annoyance. Consider these two related things that caught my eye today:

Is this a commentary on the way Organized Sports have a chokehold on our kids, forcing them into a world of pressure and competition far too early? Is it trying to tell us that kids should be spending more time outdoors in free play, discovering the wonders of Nature? Is it saying that too much money is spent on professional sports--salaries, arenas, merchandise, and the like--perhaps to the detriment of our natural environment? That we've lost our way as to what's Truly Important? I like to give my neighbours lofty, artsy, and highfalutin intentions rather than admit they're just indifferent about their yards. It allows me to maintain my Zen whilst I walk.

4. Weekends At The Lake:  Theo was ill over Independence Day with new teeth and a virus, so he couldn't join us, but Sam and Emily (aka Samily) and Zydrunas came for the day. We boated and lunched and hung out. Later that night, Rick and I watched three different fireworks displays from our front yard. We had a makeup weekend last weekend with everyone (minus Emily, who had to work, unfortunately), and it was wonderful. Theo is obsessed with Sam, who he calls Guncle. He drove the boat, talked a lot, danced, and got in the water. He had the time of his life, and we all marveled at how much having him around is like having Zydrunas around. Eerily similar, especially on the boat.

5. Books, Etc.:  I've read two books by Jay Winik about the Civil War. I know I've mentioned them in other Comment sections, so I won't talk about them here except to say that they are excellent and captivating. The writing is engaging and excellent. I grew up vacationing in Gettysburg, and I have a bit of an obsession with this period of history as well as President and Mary Lincoln, reading deeply in these areas. Sadly, I just lost my favourite aunt who lived in Gettysburg and who was a very gracious hostess to our family and to me separately. She was also an English teacher, as was her husband. I will miss her much.

I'm now reading--as a palate cleanser--Parallel Lines by Edward St. Aubyn. It is witty, British, acerbic, and smart. Say what you will about Evil Amazon (and there is plenty to), but they let me read the first chapter of books, and this one had me smiling in admiration, recognition (of how one thought leads to another and another), and amusement. I'm only about 45 pages in, and I absolutely love it. I can't wait to read more by this man. If I were sweeter, I'd type out some passages, but honestly, it's time to prep dinner, and I want to get this published. Go read the first few pages. It's so so good.

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I think this catches us up. I'd like to say that I'll be better at posting more often, but I think we all know how that will turn out. Thank you to those who do post regularly. I wish I knew your secret. Certainly I have time! Perhaps I'll just say I'll Try.

Take A Load Off Your Brain: Visit My Grocery Store And Get A Music Lesson

 

Sometimes, you just need a Diversion--a Respite from all the strenuous gasping and concern and metaphorical hand-wringing brought to us by the agents of chaos that we, The Sane Ones, did NOT elect. I'm hoping this brief post provides a bit of that.

~*~My Grocery Store, Soon To Have Its Own Special On HBO:

These are actual photos taken by Me of actual signs in my funny grocery store's Closeouts Section. I hope it never, ever changes.

If you cannot see it, the sign says SEQUENCE DRESSES $2.99

You can see what a HOT DEAL these Fabric Lanters are. Or are they Fabric Lantens? 

Do you have five bucks lying around? You can score a set of Blue tooth Earbubs made by Sentry. Or maybe they're a Blue tooth Earbubs Sentry (although I'm not sure what that would be). Either way, a Hot Deal! And NEW!

Listen, I'm still wearing the cute denim sneakers I got there three years ago for $3.99. Their signs may be awful, but the Closeouts department has great stuff, usually Target merch.

~*~Mom Goes To Music School

 Last week, Maya wrote about talking music with her teen. Well, my two sons are way past being teens, but I had my own conversation over text with them about music last week, too. Rick and I were in the car, and Lose Yourself by Eminem came up on my playlist. (I love this song.) I got curious about its genre, so I texted Jared and Sam:

                                                   

*Fetter is Jared's nickname for Sam, after the hip hop artist Fetty Wap. Not sure how it came about.

Let me tell you, I listen to a LOT of hip hop on the boat when the boys come to the lake. A. LOT. Theo dances to all of it. And just a heads up, if you haven't already, don't watch the video to the song Knife Talk. It's...really disturbing in a crazy, avant garde sort of way. 

~*~

"These are the times that try men's souls," Thomas Paine wrote in 1776. "Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph." Resistance is not futile. What we say and what we do matters. Every act of Kindness is a defiance. Paine also reminds us that, "'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death." 

Resist.

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Night Rides

 When I was a little girl and the summertime nights were very hot, I sometimes slept downstairs in the living room. My bedroom, shared with both of my sisters, was a converted attic with sloping walls. It got very warm in the summer months and could get downright frosty in wintertime. A big box fan could help circulate the air, but on some hot, humid nights, nothing helped. On those nights, my mother would lay some quilts and a sheet on the living room floor, and I'd bed down there, usually with the front door open a bit and all the windows open, hoping for a breeze.

Every now and then, it would be so warm that my father would take his pillow out onto the front steps. He'd lie down with his feet on the second step, knees bent. I often took my pillow out, too, and lay next to him, loving the whole idea of being out at night, resting there, looking up into our maple tree, the leaves patterned against the dark sky with here and there a star winking, or the moon floating in a haze.

Even better were the times when my father would get out the bicycle for a nighttime ride. It didn't matter that I was in my pajamas. I'd run down to the curb, and he'd help me hop up sidesaddle onto the crossbar; off we'd go, making a cool breeze as he rode. We glided into the night air down the streets of his old neighbourhood, and he'd point out the houses of where he lived as a child, where aunts and uncles lived, where friends lived and what they did or what they cooked or said. He talked about what their yards used to look like, how they used to go fishing or the nicknames they had. Sometimes he'd lapse into a silence for awhile, just thinking. Then he'd point out a tree or shrub or flower to me and tell me what it was or how to take care of it. All the while the wind was cool and I felt not the least bit tired.

When we'd get home, I would almost fall getting off the bike because my leg would have fallen asleep from sitting on that crossbar for so long. I never stumbled in front of him, and I never told him, either. I never wanted those bike rides to end.