Anitiyah!

I am borrowing that name from a book I am reading. I want to write a story about my daughter and want to preserve her privacy. This is my youngest daughter born in the early 60's, a time of great awakening, efforts at peace, and a degree of safety I don't think we will see anymore. Aniy was two weeks old when we were going to move to a new job, and a new home. Her birth had seemed to have been fraught with suspense as I thought I was in labor, but it was so light it might just be an upset stomach. We decided to drive to the town where the hospital was and wait at a friends home. We would leave our two other kids there while I was in the hospital. The friends finally shooed me out of there as they were sure I was going to give birth in their living room. So I got to the hospital and went through the usual preps and indeed I was in active labor. Aniy was born a couple of hours after I got to the hospital, and they put me in a room afterward with the only other person in the maternity section of this little old hospital run by Catholic nuns. The ward was on the third floor and to get there you climbed three flights of wide stairs. I think there was an elevator, but the nuns always walked up and down the stairs. Maybe they had to do that as a penance. You could hear the stairs creaking when anyone was on them. In my memory it seemed a dark place, but it was night when I gave birth.

I was really tired and dozed, but my roommate shook me wake to tell me she could hear dripping. I was hemorrhaging. We managed to get ahold of the nun in charge, I think I had a bell to ring, but my roommate did actually go out in the hall to look for someone, and the nun came up to check me. She elevated the end of the bed, changed all the covers and packed me, and massaged my belly, telling me to do the same. It was an agony trip, and I was so tired. I kept trying to keep kneading my belly, but would fall asleep. I think I must have finally stopped bleeding, and did sleep as I was soon out of the hospital. I am pretty sure they only kept you a day or two back in the early 60's. At home I attended to getting ready to move. What a mess. Three kids, one a newborn, and I was so weak I could barely do anything. I also was breast feeding this little bitty girl. We also had a big black cat named Linus.

We had a VW bug and we would drive that car to the new home with three kids, the cat, and what luggage we really needed to make the trip. A moving company had all our other household things headed to the new home. I really do not remember much other than trying to keep the kids quiet, and tending to the new baby, and hoping the cat would settle down. The meds we got to quiet the cat did the opposite. The cat was yowling and hyper and moving around, and we were all going a bit nuts. The cat was a big cat, and we finally stopped at a Vets office in some little farm town in Wyoming and asked them to keep the cat until we could arrange to get it to where we were going to live. This was the start of many cat fiascos in my life that I still cannot forget. We never got the cat back, and if we are to believe the Vet, our cat went to a good life as a barn cat. I really hope so!

We did make it to the new home in a small mining town at 10,000 feet, and moved into a motel room. I immediately ended up in bed as I began to hemorrhage again. So I had a little travel bed with Aniy in it next to my bed, and the other two kids were just going to have to entertain themselves while their Father was out arranging for us to have an apartment, and to await for our goods to arrive. It was pretty miserable. I went through this town a couple of weeks ago, and the motel is still there, and it pretty much looks the same. It is right on the main road through town, and rather stark.

When we finally moved into our apartment, it was on the second floor, had two bedrooms, a kitchen where you also ate, and a small living room. It was a beginning. The house we had moved from at a mine site in Montana was basically three shacks tacked together. It also had two bedrooms and was one among six houses up a dirt road at a phosphate mine. I guess I should write about this place in the hinterlands of Montana. So that will become an aside from the story of Aniy. To be continued!

Dollhouses!

I got a tour of a friend's dollhouse. She has been furnishing it with the Past, and it is lovely. All the little details are there, well, not all, but so many, you get the idea. Some things are so tiny, and so fragile, but so right. When I was a little girl, I wanted a dollhouse, and I think my first one was made out of two orange crates nailed together, and my Mother made the fabric things, and where they got the furniture, I don't know, but they had made a peaked roof so I had an attic, and I made up such fun scenarios with that house. Then I got a manufactured house that was not as big, and really so precious that I was afraid to mess it up much, but I played with that as well.

I had paper dolls that I kept in a shoe box, and played with them a lot, and my dolls. I also dressed my cat, Mittens, up in doll clothes when she tolerated. My Mom would here a thumping and find Mittens coming down the stairs, dragging her back feet in the nightgown I had put on her, left in a doll bed to sleep, and gone out to play. Mom would take off the nightgown, Mittens would shake, sit down and wash, and then look for some treats. She was the most amazing cat putting up with that kind of play. Doing all these feminine stuff, you would never guess I was the neighborhood tomboy. I rode my bike vigorously, even standing on the seat, steering the handle bars with my feet, hide in leaf piles in the triangle, playing hide and seek, bulling neighborhood boys, walking the bridge railing over the gully near our house that was supposed to be full of bums, so 'don't go down there'! I also loved playing in the front garden with three cars I had, one being a yellow convertible. I would make houses in the dirt, with underground garages, and there would be roads all through the garden. My Mom would be weeding at one end, and I would be making roads at the other end. There were great big horse chestnut trees in the front yard, and the garage was separate from the house and you could climb on the roof from the next door yard. A friend and I would do just that when my brothers were in their secret clubhouse in the attic of the garage, and pound and stomp on the roof. We could always get away through the neighbors yard, but the boys would come storming out of the garage to 'get us'!

I walked to school, about four blocks, and I had to walk by a Dr.'s house. For some reason he would always call out to me, 'hey, wet the bed'! I tried to avoid that house, but if I was in a hurry, I couldn't. My Mom took me to him once because I was always getting sties. He pulled out all my eyelashes. Boy, did that hurt, and I still got sties, and I do not have eyelashes to brag about to this day! He was the Dr. of last resort! Our family friend was our Dr. He was the one who treated me when I came down with Scarlet Fever. I was in bed for three weeks with that, and he came to the house to check on me. That was when I read the entire Book Of Knowledge. He also took out my tonsils, and my appendix, delivered my first baby, and adjusted an ovarian cyst. I now have no idea what has become of him as when my Father had an acrimonious break-up of his last marriage, he took the side of wife. It was a peculiar situation and I do not know why we didn't make People Magazine. Poor Dad, it was the end of things for him. I think he had had it by then. He did not last long after that. He got badly burned while I was staying with him. He caught his bathrobe on fire, and things never being simple, my brother had made that bathrobe for him, and noticed it was gone. We had to tell him, thus causing guilt feelings. I burned my hands taking the burning robe off of him, and putting out the fire, and Dad just never recovered. He kept asking one of us for a gun, and none of us complied. He then just stopped eating. That did the trick. But I think we all had found some common ground with him during that six months, finding peace with each other, and understanding. We should all be so lucky!

Well, this digressed from doll houses! But it is all wound up with a life. From birth to death, there are memories. Take heart!

Mouth Tricks

I have begun the mouth restoration, new crowns to replace aged fillings that are cracking and leaking so I fill the thrill of cold air when I breath through my mouth. The beginning of this process was taking molds of my teeth for the replacement crown manufacturing. And then whitening to get my old yellow teeth back to their natural color so to match the crowns. The process is called Zoom, and it uses light and bleaching agents to whiten the teeth. It is a long complicated process where they stuff gauze in and around your mouth and teeth. The tech then puts some material along your gums and saps it to harden it to protect that area. She applies sun block to lips to spare them the intense light, and wraps gauze up over the lips. It looks pretty macabre. Skeletal, as a matter of fact. Then you go through what they call passes, four of them 15 minutes each, and they remove the material they have put on your teeth to accelerate the whitening process. By the end of the second pass I could feel my upper lip and told the tech, and she reapplied the sun block. I should have mentioned that I was beginning to feel the bottom lip, but didn't until the 3rd pass, and on we went to the 4th pass. It was just a fluke, I got burned, more on the bottom lip, and I am now feeling the slow healing acutely. It will take a week, probably for it to get back to normal. But my teeth look white. I think the last time they looked this good was 40 years ago. So was it worth it? Probably! Going along with my Whisker blog, and writing about aging, I do want to make it another 10 or 12 years and see what happens around me, so looking good is probably the call!

Whiskers!

We are back in the mountains, waiting for snow to fall, which it did, but soon melted. And I am taking meandering walks with the dog, getting lost in thought, astounded by the views, feeling the wind after hearing it sweeping down out of the upper climes, and thinking of things that have nothing to do with really anything. Thus, I thought of my little grandmother, who I now realize was really little, but when I was young, 8 or 9, she was my size. I used to stay with my grandfather and grandmother when my parents did things I don't really remember, or maybe I just stayed there because I was the youngest and my Mom wanted space. I don't know. But there were things that I would do whenever I was visiting. When we would get up we would have breakfast in our pajamas. then when we would get dressed my grandma would have me stand over her on the bed and lace up her corset. Didn't everyone do that for their grandmother? And she would often have me pull her whiskers with tweezers sitting in the sun by a window. So where is the grandchild that will pull my whiskers, or even tell me that I have this big whompen whisker sticking out on my chin! No one! They won't tell you either cause you are not that important to them.

I discovered this summer when I visited my Internist for the usual updates of prescriptions, that I have graduated. Now that I am over 70, I have graduated to where doing tests, and updating health things really aren't that important anymore. When I mentioned a Pap Smear, she said, 'oh, you can wait on that for a year, I suppose.' OK, what about mammogram and bone density, which just a few years ago were hurriedly reminded to me to get! 'Probably you ought to get the mammogram, but have you broken anything lately?' 'Well, no!' 'Then you can skip the density thing.' I am not going to matter anymore! Oh, great, and I had such high hopes for lasting another ten years or so!

I have really suddenly decided, well actually this happened several years ago, to really try and keep this old body in good shape. I keep track of the veggies I eat, and how many fruit things, and I only try to have two hard candies in the evening after I eat my dairy things. And fibre, yes fibre, you need it, and apples give you a good supply. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, oh yah! I have a high incidence of heart disease in my family background, so I realized some time ago that I don't want to go there. I take a pill for blood pressure and a hiccup in the heart rhythm that I noticed several years ago. I am taking red yeast rice for my lipids, especially my triglycerides, which run high, probably genetic, and watch the weight gain and loss. I try doing some weight lifting, small amounts for my shoulders and my back muscles, and a stationary bike in the winter and a road bike in the summer for my thrills! So far things seem to be working, but who knows. I can walk up hill here on my mountain at 9500 feet without getting out of breath, or panting anymore. But I am pudgy! Pudgy is good, my Obgyn says, 'you need a little fat to replace those hormones you are missing.' Whoopee!

I have a friend who has had bariatric surgery, and she is so inspirational to me, I seem to be able to keep doing the things that have gotten me this far in the mathematical equation of aging. I also have too much yarn and need to knit it up, and lots of books still to be read, and a dog and a cat that need me around, and that is my excuse for wishing I had someone to pull my whiskers. I want to look good! Oh, and that is why I have finally given in about my teeth. I am going to get some cool fangs to replace some quaking aging old filling teeth that look kinda yellow and old. I remember when my Dad was in the hospital in his last months after being burned badly from a bathrobe that caught on fire, a tooth fell out. He felt so bad about that gap in his smile, and wanted the tooth put back in fast, and he was laying in bed with bandages on these awful burns on his back and arm. We do want to look good!

Aging is not for the faint of heart, it has been said. But there is the alternative, others have said. And why not stick around to see what is going to happen this time. Will the earth get too warm and not be able to recover, or will it launch into another ice age, and what about all those guns going off all over the world taking out this person and that person, and for what reason. We seem to have forgotten something along the way. What was this experiment all about. Why were people evolved to live on a planet that appears to be one of a kind and is turning into a trash dump and fought over for religious purposes to further this need, and that need, and for what? Whoa there, lets stop and figure out what that need is, and why. Look around you at all the wasted stuff, souls, and hearts. Take some breaths and think. Where am I bound, and is it worth it, or should I just look for someone to pull my whiskers!

Colorado

It was snowing for over 24 hours, and cold. We got here after driving for three days in cold, but clear weather. There does not seem to be much traffic, but we did the middle of the week instead of the weekend. It was fairly painless, although our good old Motel 6 seemed to be getting kinda seedy, and had the usual hunters. We got to see the yard without snow, but all the grass was gold, and our trees look like they grew again this summer. I need to stay and see the flowers bloom , come back mid summer and just look at flowers.

We are getting used to the climate and the altitude. We feel a little rummy, and out of breath and tired. Seen most of our neighbors. Now to avoid getting sick. Flu is about us. I hope the cold high place we live will protect us. I have a feeling of isolation here, and I like the hush of the area, only an occasional heifer calling its calf, and now they are gathering down at their collection pen wondering why they have not been taken lower to a better clime. The fox has been seen, and we may have heard an elk. There are porcupines about as our neighbors dog got some quills. Our dog stays close to us, only playing with her buddies when they are near her home. The cat has settled into being incarcerated in the house, disappearing for her nap we don't know where, and coming out blinking, and asking for food.

It is a pretty simple life, just coping with lots of snow and cold, and soon skiing down a hill!Flat landers enjoy what you are given, and send the rain our way!

AAADD

Someone sent me a forward titled AAADD: Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. Well, it can happen, or is it short term memory loss, STML. Or do we just get to the point that trying to organize becomes just too much trouble. Follow the thread, look between the raindrops, allow yourself to be, and for heaven sakes don't take everything too seriously.

We are trying to get organized, and we went to our Insurance Agent to set up automatic payments on our car and house insurance. We had changed to this Agency after our old agent whom we had been with for years died, and his wife took over, and then she decided to give up the agency, and since it was on the island that we used to live on, we changed to the one nearest our home. We had not met the Agent, and so going to set up payments allowed us to meet the nice man. He was by himself, and the women who take care of all such things were not there, he told us, but that he could take care of the change. When we left, we drove up the street about seven blocks to the first stop sign, and then several more to the second stop sign, maybe all of 5 minutes had transpired. As my husband started to go into the intersection and turn left, I yelled stop! I saw a car coming at a good clip, and thought we might collide. Husband does not usually go out in this set of circumstances, he waits, but this time I yelled. As we finally made the turn, he said, 'good heavens, I thought you saw something I didn't, like something crawling out onto the street or something. Like a baby or small person.' And I replied, 'no, no, no, just couldn't believe you were going to try and beat that fast car.'

Well, after that, we started to build a scenario of having to call the Agent we had just met, five minutes after leaving him and telling him that he should come take care of our claim as we had been hit and were lying bleeding on the street and the other car had travelled across a lawn and up onto a porch, and we thought a claim was in the works, but maybe he could get there before the ambulance came to pick us up off the street. Just hurry things along, you know. Sort of a British comedy scenario with the accents and all.

So this is not AAADD, but sort of OIKT or Old Idiots Killing Time. It is best to have a sense of humor about things. And acronyms are so fun, and sometimes they even form a real word. Like OINK-T: Old Idiots Not Killing- Time. I imagine I will now get worked up over creating acronyms.

The rain today was massive and we could hear it on our roof which is composition and not metal, but sounded like it was. I expected to see the old stream that used to run down the property line when we first moved to this place to reappear. It was damp, but no flood. Nice living on a bit of a hill and a huge bay almost in your front yard. There is room for all that water! So we took a nap! It was dark enough to do that, and it felt very good.

So aging can feel quite serious to those of us who have arrived at an age we consider at the top of the hill, looking down. We do have issues, and if we have all our brain cells working, we still need to pay attention. You have to make an effort to realize what is going on around you, and who is around you, and what you are doing to that which is around you. It takes more effort than you would think, this paying attention. So you become a team. And then that doesn't always work if one of you falls asleep on a lengthy drive. Oh, bother, just make sure you pay attention.

I am amazed at how long a lot of people live what with all the things going on around your own place, and your city,and your world. They paid attention. I read the obituaries, and they are really interesting. There are some amazing people who have passed on. And their nice families have shared how they lived their lives with all of us out here reading the Obits. There are sad ones, died suddenly, fought a valiant battle with cancer, or some other disease. Some didn't wake up, and some were in accidents, and the little ones you really don't know what takes them. I had to make up an Obit for my Mother, with help from the family, and discovered no one knew her real first name. I guess she didn't like it. I did an Obit for my oldest daughter who died suddenly in a truck rollover. But so much led up to that ending, and I wanted to convey that maybe she was now at peace, which can probably make some people angry as it really is a cop out. But she knew she did not have long to live as her liver was failing her. She just wanted to go to Maui, lay on the sand in the sun one last time, and she did not make it. We talked the week before she died, and she seemed at peace with her self, and a little weary of my platitudes, but we did get to tell each other we loved each other, and that gives me peace. I do love her and miss her, and think of her often in different places that bring up memories, and I can remember that she was the one who I practiced on as she was my first born. The other two got to benefit from that practice, but my daughter left us with something to remember. She was unique.