Tag Archives: diy

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Frail

I wrote this poem about my father at least a year before he died. He was on oxygen, on steroids, terrible emphysema from 55 years of unfiltered Camel cigarettes. He would not accept much help and became more and more of a hermit. He did continue with the Rainshadow Chorale and because of it he quit smoking three years before he died.

Frail

We are going sailing
My partner says to me
“Invite him if you want.”

Then I am busy for a while

I think of calling, then forget

He was not at chorus on Monday

At last I say,
“I haven’t called. We’ll just sail.
Just us today.”

I haven’t called
because he was not at chorus on Monday

He is frail
55 years of camels
two packs a day
as if each cigarette
destroyed one alveolus
in his lungs
one tiny air/blood interface
built to exchange oxygen
and carbon dioxide
the loss is cumulative


He is frail
he is proud that the choral director
says, “I need you.”
He can’t sustain
but his entrances and time
are the best
among the basses.
They need him.

Chorus
is our winter link
two introverts
we hug at the start of chorus
sing for two hours
and talk for a few minutes at the end

Occasionally we go for a beer
I invite him for dinner
but he comes less and less
he often does not feel well at night

He looks smaller at chorus
this season
this is normal in emphysema
the body sheds weight
too much tissue to oxygenate
too hard for the lungs
and the heart, working overtime
to make up the difference
he is blessed with low blood pressure
genetic, from his father,
tough English stock,
otherwise I think he’d be dead

I didn’t call
before we went sailing
because I am afraid

I’ve driven out before
when he has not answered the phone
for a day or two
wondering if I would find him dead

I didn’t call
before we went sailing
because he was not at chorus on Monday
because if he didn’t answer today
I would not go

______________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: frail.

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Unclean

Housework is a slightly sensitive word for me today.

Sol Duc and I moved two days ago, from the Hilton Home2 Go (NOT recommended if you are long term and want to cook) to a furnished house.

Wonderful, right? Except the stove was all splattered with grease inside, the microwave grease and a dirty paper towel and the refrigerator was all fingerprints. Ick.

I called the rental person and he showed up with cleaning gear and did a cursory clean. I did the fridge. Then I started thinking. The only cleaning equipment I brought was new sponges, so I started washing out drawers and they are ALL dusty. This place was NOT cleaned. And the photograph is the grill in back: filthy AND there is no cleaning equipment. The two tables are built for someone taller than me, so I looked at a plastic table in the garage to use for a desk. There is a card table of cork in the garage. And behind the card table is mouse poop and a dead mouse. I return the card table and get out of there.

Now I am grossed out and annoyed. I contact my temp company and the rental person. “Has poison been used in the garage?” I ask, for Sol Duc’s sake. “And what about the yard?”

“No, no, no spraying. There has never been any evidence of pests there.”

“Well, there is evidence now.”

Right after our conversation, the Round Up truck arrives to spray weeds. Um, no. So I contact my temp company. The rental guy sets up a service to come clean. “Garage too, and I want everything pulled out from the walls.” Ok, there are cardboard boxes and stuff that belongs to the owners in the garage. Mouse heaven, honestly. And my impression is that this rental person is NOT going to tell the owners about the mice. I don’t trust him a bit now, so I only want them to clean when I am present, which means Wednesday at 6 pm. And there is no way they’ll finish the garage that night unless they are cursory. I want the floors and bathrooms cleaned. I have already done shelves and drawers. The stove racks aren’t clean.

I am NOT cleaning that grill. I am also NOT buying grill cleaning equipment. It is hella annoying.

I’ve always left places AT LEAST as clean as I found them. I think this rental person is not truthful. He said it’s the owner who has the weed spraying service, but then he should have said, “I don’t think so.” So there could well be rodent poison in the garage, he has no idea and won’t check.

Ick. Some people are really icky.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: housework.

Yeah, I am thinking of the scene in the second half of the song. Yep.

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Fear and Finials

The word finial takes me straight to Portland, Oregon and Family Medicine Residency. My grandmother loaned us the down payment for a house and we were in Southeast, on Belmont Street. The neighborhood was coming up rapidly. My son was six months old when we moved there.

Across the street were two houses owned by two couples. All four worked for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in the summers. One woman quit and started a landscaping business. She had six foot tomato plants in her back yard by the end of the summer. She had a gorgeous flower garden in front. She also put up a decorative fence with elegant plexiglass finials.

One day all the finials were smashed. We were all sure that it was Mike. Mike lived in a duplex next to us and was terrifying. Initially it was his mother living there with a potbelly pig that would use a ramp to go down in the yard. The son moved in with his wife and child. His mother and the pig left and then the wife and child did too. Before the wife and child left, Mike knocked on my door and asked about exchanging baby sitters. I explained that we had an arrangement with someone and could not do that. After he left, I told my husband, “Don’t let that man into our house ever.”

As a neighborhood, we discussed what to do if Mike came at one of us. We figured he was on crack, he was terrifying, and we should go for head or knees, because we did not think pain would slow him down. This sounds over the top, right? Nope. My little family was in Eastern Oregon for a ten week rotation. “You missed the fun,” said our neighbors. “Mike threatened to shoot himself, they called out the SWAT team. He shot himself but he missed and only creased his head. He’s in the state hospital for six months.” Except he was back in three months. I’ve also written about him chasing his upstairs neighbor into traffic stark naked, trying to hit him with a five iron. Rush hour traffic stopped dead to watch the show.

We thought the 5 iron probably took out the finials. The owner of the house next door sold it and Mike left. We were all terribly relieved. And that is what the word finial brings up.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: finial.

The photograph is not from Portland, Oregon in the 1990s. It is from London in March 2022.

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DIY FUD: more

I am Elwha, cat.

Day three of offerings. My Mother did not even take a picture of day two. I do not understand why she scorns my offerings. This is a precious mouse that I extracted from the Tower.

This was a difficult operation. I stood on the sheep that warms and carefully tried to remove the tangled mouse. Mother interfered a little, but at last I could jump down with it. And I have offered it in exchange for more food! This precious toy!

Many thanks to all who made suggestions the other day. I still do not understand how a sub would help, but I will watch for one. Perhaps if I continue to make offerings and observe, I will be able to communicate with Mother. She seems loving, even though she is also obtuse. I am still hungry and lose weight. I fear starvation. My sister laughs when I approach her, but she is smaller and does not have the same needs. Mother feeds us in separate rooms. It is frustrating.

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Don’t try this at home

https://news.ohsu.edu/2022/03/17/little-evidence-on-how-psilocybin-therapy-interacts-with-existing-psychiatric-treatments-review-finds?linkId=156952130

People are busily hopping on the psilocybin bandwagon. DON’T. Why not, you say, it’s NATURAL. Well, the death angel mushroom is also natural but it will kill you. So are red tides, poisonous snakes and sharks.

You wouldn’t take your buddy’s appendix out in your kitchen, would you? Don’t mess with your buddy’s brain either. Especially if there is already a behavioral health diagnosis and/or an addiction already on board. Either or both might get WORSE rather than better. Wait for the research.

And remember: one in four people meets diagnostic criteria for a behavioral health diagnosis at least once in their life. When there is also an addiction, we call it dual diagnosis.

And for pity’s sake, be careful with pot products, ok? It’s a total myth that they are not addictive. Yeah, people have told me for my entire career, over 30 years, “I am not addicted to (pot, heroin, alcohol, gambling, cocaine, meth, crack, whatever)”. ALL ALCOHOLICS say this the first time they are admitted for crashing a car or alcohol poisoning or vomiting blood or liver failure. “Not me. I am stopping today. I am NOT addicted. I do not need to talk to the substance abuse person.” We roll our eyes and send in the substance abuse person anyhow, because HEY, THE PERSON IS TOO ADDICTED AND IN DENIAL.

If you are going to use pot products, use them one or two times a week. Max three. Because a study of teens that paid them (with parental permission, consent, etc) to stop for a month found that almost none of the teens who used pot daily could stop. They relapsed. And they complained of anxiety and insomnia. And I have worked with adults trying to quit: again, anxiety and insomnia. The teens in the study who only used 2-3 days a week COULD stop for the month. The study monitored urine drug screens quite strictly.

And if you say, well, I can’t sleep without it. Um, yeah, that is addiction. I would wean. Reduce amounts and then start with one night a week without it. Good luck. Get help if you need it.

And don’t jump on the psilocybin bandwagon!!! Holy moly, humans are amazing, the ways they think up to hurt themselves and each other. If you want to be in a clinical trial, go find one. Don’t fool with Mother Nature, she can be a killer.

Happy solstice and blessings.

Here is the scientific paper for the science geeks like me:

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00213-022-06083-y

The picture is just a picture. No worries.

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diy

The other thing that I think of with Sam is tools and do it yourself. He told me once that when he went to college, he wanted to learn everything. He had tons of both practical and esoteric knowledge. I took these pictures at Lake Matinenda… so for those of you who don’t know, what is this? Can you guess?

That summer I helped wire an outlet attached to this and helped float the raft in the correct position, which fine tuned my motor boat driving skills. I had to hold the boat in position in wind and waves, while Sam yelled over his shoulder at me and connected lines and wires and an anchor.

705matinenda&walnut 070