Or maybe just a lot of rambling that will bore you to death. Who knows? It’s an adventure! We’ll all find out together, and by the end we’ll either be all, “Wow! What a post!” or “Wow! How does one blather so much about nothing of any import?”
Either way, I figure it will make me look talented.
Wuv for the Wovel
If you are my Facebook friend, then you may already know what a Snow Wovel is. If not? You are missing out! Unless I already talked about it on my blog? I don’t remember.
See, our current abode has a driveway that is . . . long. It’s only one car wide (until you get up to the garage, where it fans out into a three-car-wide concrete apron) (yes, I imagine cars all nestled on the concrete like potatoes being carried to the kitchen in Ma Ingalls’ apron) (or something like that). But the narrow driveway is looooong.
Since we are in Canada South and all, I told McH we really needed to get a snow blower. He said snow blowers are for sissies. (Or something like that). I pointed out that, according to his lower back which no longer has all of it’s disks, he should be a sissy. Right. He didn’t share that opinion, and insisted that he would shovel the driveway by hand.
So my parents were going to give him money to put towards a snow blower for Christmas; but then I found it! I found the Snow Wovel! Since it is much cheaper than a snow blower, I suggested to my parents that they just get him one of those do-hickies for Christmas. They did. And?
I WUV the Wovel. McH likes it, too. I shoveled almost the entire driveway yesterday, and would have finished had it not been for the pesky fact that my family likes to eat dinner and I needed to get it started. I’m telling you, the Wovel is great!
Not only does it make it so easy to shovel snow that even a(n) (out-of-shape, 40-year-old) girl can do it, but . . . oooo, this is the good part . . . all of my tree-hugging, left-leaning liberal friends who are wondering, “Dear God in Heaven, is global warming getting that out of control or am I going through menopause??” will love it because it is greener than Al Gore’s bank account.
Oh, and by the way? It’s menopause. Hello??? Ice in Atlanta this week???
But all that aside, if you live in an area that requires driveway shoveling in the winter, you should get yourself one of these contraptions. Compared to a regular shovel, the Wovel saves your back. Compared to a snow blower, the Wovel saves you loads of money on gasoline, or saves the planet. However you want to spin it. Personally, I like the fact that if hyperinflation ever hits, or cap and trade passes, or whatever, I won’t have to weight the pros and cons of going broke tanking up a snow blower versus risking a stroke or heart attack due to regular hand shoveling.
I think we need to get a second Snow Wovel. Seriously. I mean, we can do the job in a reasonable amount of time with one, but with two? It wouldn’t take any time at all.
Hormones and Headaches and Doctors and Such
You may or may not recall that several months ago I went to a wellness/anti-aging Dr. here in Canada South, got all kinds of blood and saliva testing done, and started taking bio-identical hormones for my migraines.
Overall, the hormones have been very helpful. Not a perfect solution, but helpful. My noise sensitivity is gone, I only get one headache a month these days, and it resembles a really bad tension headache more than an actual migraine. Much better than things had been for several months preceding my foray into the wellness dr. world.
But! (I think I blogged about this?) I was getting fed up with the Dr.’s office. When they lost my records and lied to my face about it all, and then I called them on it and they tried to cover it up with more crap, I was pretty much done. So, as I think I’ve previously said, I set up an appointment with a wellness/anti-aging Dr. back home.
You guys! I literally cried in his office. I mean, I didn’t bawl and carry on or anything, but the man had no Kleenex handy so he gave me a paper towel to wipe my nose. Because? When I told him about the migraines and the food sensitivities, he said, “You know, there is testing we can do to try to figure out all of your food issues. Would you like to do that?”
Dude! I have been reading about this kind of testing off and on for years, and had Dr.s tell me it’s a bunch of crap since my reactions aren’t of the rashy, anaphylactic, immediate (IgE) type. THOSE kinds of allergies are simple to test for, but my kind of reactions, the delayed (IgG) type? Different story. The thing is, the testing is just a simple blood draw. It’s really not complicated. It’s just the validity of the test results that many Dr.s question. I understand some of their issues with the testing, but still . . . when you’ve been dealing with food sensitivities that cause crippling migraines for nearly half your life, it’s nice to find a Dr. who wants to get to the bottom of it. It even brings a tear to your eye.
My Dr. here in Canada South? When I told her about the food issues? She just gave me hormones and didn’t think twice about the food, or the health of my gut (ooo, aren’t you glad I’m talking about my intestines now?) or trying to heal that mess. But this new doc? That is his top priority. Oh, he’s keeping me on hormones (though changing my dosing to cyclical rather than static) (which I figured is what I should have been doing anyway, but the other doc, I think, was just more interested in selling me the hormones and making extra fun money), but he is also putting me on some detox supplements and, when we get the IgG test results back from the lab, an elimination diet. *SNORT* The past decade and a half of my life have been one huge elimination diet, but whatever. He seems to think that we can possibly get it all figured out to the point that we could actually heal me. I don’t know if I have that much faith in it, but it would be nice, so I’m willing to give it a try.
Either way, the new doc spent three and a half hours talking with me last Friday. In the past several months I haven’t spent more than a half hour total with the doctor here. So I’d say it was worth the 4.5 hour drive down to his office.
In addition to doing the internal detox stuff he’s putting me on, I’m changing my skin care (this is not something he told me to do, just something I am doing). I have known I should do this for a long time because the skin care products I use, as much as I like them, are full of parabens and other chemical crap. I’ve probably taken 20 years off of my life trying to take 10 years off of my face. So I’m switching to more natural (which, of course, equates to more expensive) products. I’m hoping to detox my body of all the crap and toxins that I can. Can’t wait to get it all started.
My First Catholic Funeral
While I was down home for my Dr. appointment, I wound up staying for a few extra days since my aunt died.
Can I just take a moment here to say what total troopers my kids were through all of this? Between the 4.5 hour drive home, then, a couple days later, the 3.5 hour drive to my parents’ hometown for the funeral, then the 4.5-hour-turned-into-6.5-hour drive back to Canada South, with a dive of a hotel, a funeral, and a stressed-out, back-spasmming, grumpy mom thrown in – they were fantastic!
While we were in town for the funeral we went to a certain deli for lunch. Oh my word, people! You would love this deli. The sandwiches are HUGE. If I could eat the bread mine came on, it would have made at least two meals, and I got a small gyro. I got two sandwiches for five kids to share, and it fed all of them lunch and some of them dinner. This deli is pure awesomeness. I’d tell you the name, except I know they are specific to that location so: A. I’d be divulging more information than I am comfortable with on my blog; B. You couldn’t find one in your town, anyway; and C. The last time I googled the name of the deli to find out if they were a chain, or were expanding, or whatever, all of my search results came up in Arabic or something, so I’m probably already on a government watch list for sponsoring terror.
My aunt was Catholic, though I don’t think I ever actually heard her say a kind word about the Catholic church, so her funeral was the full Mass thing. I’ve only ever been to one other full Mass thing, a wedding, so I feared for my children’s ability to keep the circus-that-is-us reigned in for that long. Luckily, other than my deceased aunt, there were only about half a dozen other Catholics in attendance, so the Communion part went lickity-split (seriously, started and finished while I had Midge out for a potty break). The whole turning to the people closest to you and shaking their hand and/or giving them a message of peace is always a little awkward for me, and I thought my kids were going to have uncontrollable fits of giggling when I shook their hands, but I didn’t know what else to do. Other than that, what is there to say? It was a funeral. Never the happiest of occasions.
At least there was no applause, nor was there cheering, unlike a recent televised memorial service. I’ll admit, I only saw about the last five or ten minutes of that one, but what was up with all the applause and cheering? For the love, people! Can you imagine being the mother of that nine-year-old girl, or the fiancé of the 30-year-old aid, or anyone else related to anyone who was killed, and having all of those people clapping and cheering all around you at the memorial service? Okay, I don’t know which of the relatives were actually there, but hopefully you get the point. I was appalled.
Speaking of Things Involving Politicians
For days now (literally, since the day after the shooting) I’ve had a post for the political blog running through my head. The working title is, Are Liberals Too Stupid for Metaphor? But I’ve been too busy to write it. By the time I finally get around to it, it will probably be pointless, so I’ll just sum it up here: If you’ve ever said, “Aim high!” or “Shoot for the moon,” or “It was a shot in the dark,” then you are obviously a perpetuator of violent rhetoric and vitriol. You are also invited to join my club. Annual dues are reasonable and you’ll get a membership card which entitles you to a photocopied page of my Holman and Harmon Handbook to Literature (it will be the page with the definition of metaphor).
Anyway, if I write that post now, it will just look like I’m copying the likes of Michelle and Ann Coulter. Hmm . . . all of us coming up with this metaphor thing . . . is it a conspiracy or just common sense?
I am desperate for something good to read. Don’t get me wrong, I have stacks of books that I have yet to read, but I don’t feel like getting bogged down in something I might not like. I started Uncle Tom’s Cabin (right, how did I make it through college with an English major and never read this book?); but I got to the part where the mother finds out the master has signed the papers to sell her child, so she is running away with him and . . . I stopped. A~ recently read this book and said she thinks it is the best book she has ever read (which is really saying something) even though it is sad.
What can I say? It’s January. The days are short, the nights are long, and even my 5,000 IUs of vitamin D haven’t gotten my levels up to where they should be. I can’t do sad right now.
I’m thinking of re-reading the whole Harry Potter series, but am open to suggestions. I haven’t read an entire novel in months. How sad is that. Oh, and THANK YOU Kathleen for the book you sent me. But is it sad? I can handle tragic, just not running-for-her-life-with-her-little-child sad.
*GASP* Just hit with a bit of personal insight. Moving on . . .
Actually, I’m Out
Yep, I think that’s it. Unless you care to hear about my back spasms that wouldn’t go away until I could get home and sleep in my own bed, or the cold McH and I are both coming down with, or my (possibly irrational) fear that bedbugs infested our luggage in the hotel, (You know how some people steal hotel towels? I could have easily stolen a shower knob since it kept leaping off the wall and all), or our upcoming vacation to Florida.
Oh, yes! We are finally going to take a Florida vacation! In February! I’m thinking it should be covered by insurance since it will undoubtedly help my low, low vitamin D levels. But our insurance is pretty crappy anyway.
What are the chances butterbeer will be approved for my upcoming detox plan?
Tewt the Newt thinks not.