Blue-Footed Musings

• Livia’s ordinary cold was enough to kick my ass. Good thing it wasn’t Covid.
• Yesterday was a screen-free day, so I read my book instead of watching TV. On the bright side, I finished the book and I really enjoyed it. On the less bright side, I stayed up way too late, and now I am paying the price.
• My MIL ended up in the hospital last week. It was a relatively minor thing, and she’s back home again. But, she has mentioned to me a couple of times recently that she wants the kids to come over for a baking lesson because she “won’t be around forever.” I wish she wouldn’t talk like that. I would like her to be around forever. I know she can’t be, though, and I’m hoping that next week we’ll all be feeling fine (no coughs and sneezes) so that we can go over for a visit.

It wasn’t the best weekend. I pulled my back on Saturday and spent most of the weekend in bed from that plus the cold that I caught from Livia. I had to cancel my Saturday plans because of the cold. Being sick and semi-incapacitated, not to mention having the kids at home on Monday due to the holiday, also put the kibosh on any major celebration of my and my husband’s wedding anniversary. We might do something to celebrate later this week, though.

Livia’s Covid test results came back negative. We have now had three colds and three Covid tests since returning to a semi-normal life. Two colds we think came from the school and one from the dentist’s office. It’s frustrating and inconvenient dealing with the tests and temporary isolation and all that. And it’s upsetting, because it means that Covid mitigation measures are a failure. They are not stopping the spread of germs. If it weren’t for the vaccine, we’d all have had Covid by now.

Sorry for all the complaining. I’m just venting a little. Overall things are good.

Last weekend felt very long, but not in a good way, because we were waiting on the results from some medical tests. One was a Covid test for my husband, who had caught a cold. The other was a series of lab tests for Marshall, who had an alarming rash on his leg. All the tests came back on Monday with good results. No deadly diseases. Whew! I am grateful.

“Life it seems to fade way, drifting further every day…” Those are the first two lines of Metallica’s Fade to Black. I heard it on the car radio the other day, and it made me think of my old friend Phil. He’s been on my mind a lot lately, because I found out recently that he died from cancer earlier this month.

I’m struggling to process the news. I hadn’t seen him in a long time, but we were good friends as teenagers. Phil had a rare charisma. He’s the only person I’ve ever known who was Trouble but worth it. My mother even liked him. He was also the only person who ever called me Kare-Bear, and the only one who could use that nickname for me without it sounding ridiculous. He taught me how to play the drums. Our birthdays were close together, so I know that he just had one, too. His last.

Facebook might be shit most of the time, but this is one case where I’m glad that it exists. It’s only because of Facebook that I know anything about Phil’s life after I left town. He was a special effects make-up artist, which was an excellent career choice for him, and he was successful at it. And though I’m sad to know that he’s gone, I thank Facebook for that knowledge, too. I just wish I’d known that he was dying. I can’t say whether or not I would have reached out, but I would have liked to have known that I was running out of time for it. But I guess that is the lesson we’re supposed to take from death–we’re always running out of time.

RIP, Phil. Gone too soon. Never forgotten.

I’ve had a reusable Target bag with a seam rip in it for years and years, and OMG that thing was such a nuisance. I couldn’t in good conscience throw it away, but I also didn’t want to use it, because the hole was big enough for things to fall out of. It looked just like my other reusable Target bags, so it occasionally migrated into the trunk and got used (perilously!). The rest of the time, it sat in the closet or in a random pile, taking up space to no purpose.

Today I saw it sitting in a pile and decided I’d put up with it long enough. I got out my sewing kit and finally sewed that rip up. Had I used anything other than invisible thread, I don’t think I’d be able to stand what a messy job I did of it. But it’s done, and the stitches seem to be holding. So hooray! That’s one less thing on my unwritten but ever-present and weighty mental list of Things I Ought to Do Someday.

• My birthday was this week. It arrived while I was sleeping, and it left while I was sleeping. Is that a metaphor?
• It was my 49th birthday. I am on the cusp of 50. As I’ve repeatedly told my husband, I would like for us to spend the coming year trying to “clean our plate” before our 50th birthdays. That is to say, it’s time to get rid of all our old, unused stuff, and to finish off any long-postponed tasks, and to dump any unrealistic dreams that we’ve been holding onto out of habit. We have no control over time except how well we use it. We need to focus on using our time well.
• I sometimes refer to myself as an “old lady.” I don’t actually think that I’m an old lady, but TBH I sometimes think that I look like one and/or act like one. I should probably be more careful about that. I am younger now than I will ever be again, and settling prematurely (ha-ha) into the mindset and/or lifestyle of the elderly will only erode whatever youth I have left. So I’m not going to call myself old anymore, not even in jest.

• Marshall’s Covid test came back negative, and he can return to school tomorrow. Yay!
• My husband got our well pump replaced today, and for soooooo much less than the price he was quoted the other day (good job, Honey!). Unfortunately the well had to be chlorinated as part of the pump replacement process, and the system must be thoroughly flushed before we can start drinking the water again. So, for now we have to use bottled water. But, on the bright side, we’re ordering out for dinner.

I could forget that it’s 9/11 and make it through the entire day without being sad, if the country would allow me to (it won’t). But, at least the front page of the newspaper is devoted to that old psychic wound and not a new one. That is to say, no news is good news. Or as Gary Gnu used to say, “No gnews is good gnews.”