Saturday morning coffee pot post

This really will be random.

Last night, for the first time since surgery, I could turn over in bed without my insides feeling like they are rolling around! Sometimes the absence of a thing feels like a real thing. So I’m pretty happy this morning. Haven’t even taken a Tylenol yet, although I will.

I think I’ll go to the Greensboro Farmer’s Curb Market and buy broccoli and some combo of locally raised beef and pork and chicken. They have wonderful lean brats and
sausages there too. I always see a lot of great people there. Back when I was agoraphobic it was one of the first places where I felt comfortable as I was healing.

My field peas are about done but my butterbeans are having a big end of season run. I picked twice this week and shelled, blanched, and froze them. My tomatoes are about done too and I’m going to dehydrate my last batch this weekend.

The California fires are nightmares and my heart hurts so much for the terror and trauma and loss of the people there. Fire is a particular dread of mine and I’ve lost some loved ones to it.

I went to two Art-is-You retreats in Petaluma and one of my classes with Roxanne Stout went to beautiful Cornerstone Gardens in Sonoma to sketch and take photos. I hope they survive this. What beautiful country it is there. It’s little wonder so many people have moved there to retire. It seems from the news reports that many of the elderly residents could not escape in time. So horrible.

I’ve been fantasizing about moving west again despite all this. I keep thinking about a co-housing community near Forest Grove, Oregon. We met one of the residents at a bluegrass jam in a tiny brewery there, and he asked us out to a cookout there the day we were leaving. Even offered to pick us up. Unfortunately it was 100 degrees that day and Susanne had to get on down the road to Eugene to meet her boyfriend and turn in the rental car, so we couldn’t go. I looked it up online yesterday. I would really love to live in that area. I think Sandy would like it too.

I picked the glue out of my belly button and I’m so glad about that. It was driving me crazy. The little things, you know. Also, I never thought I’d be typing that sentence.

Also on my mind: if given the opportunity to sell my part of my cousin’s lake house, will I do it? Anyone who has read this blog for long or knows me well knows of my intense attachment to it. I don’t consider it partly mine because my cousin’s wife has lifetime rights but she can’t tear down the house or sell the property, so apparently it IS partly mine. I don’t pay a cent in taxes or expenses for it but she encourages me to go down there and stay as much as I want. I hear that she is considering making us an offer, which I’m sure means that the house will come down. The lot is what is valuable.

I could use the money for retirement, or buy a nice camper and go where I please.

Ay yi yi. Probably won’t happen but it set my brain in motion. And I’m still smarting over selling my mother’s house.

Okay, better get to the farmer’s market. Time has run away from me. I’ve signed up to do this, which I pretty much do all the time anyway.

Recovery a week later

A week after my surgery, I was humbled about listening to my body and to my doctor’s office. The art work I did wore me out. It did not help my healing to put the pages on the floor and rearrange them on Monday. I had to rest all day Tuesday. Then I went back to work on Wednesday because I had decided beforehand that that was the date I was going back to work, even though the doctor’s office suggested two weeks out and then when I challenged that they said that one week would probably be fine since I have an office job. So I went back six days later, walked all over the place because it felt good to be up and around, and ended up back in bed at 2:30 that afternoon with an ice pack and stayed in bed through Thursday.

After a solid day and a half of rest and a good meal last night I am back at work sitting in front of the computer, but I took the elevator and I am going home if I begin to feel bad or exhausted. I’ve ditched the opioids because they weren’t doing me much good anyway. Acetaminophen and ibuprofen and icepacks are helping me just as much.

Needless to say I am tired of being in bed, I am bored, and I am frustrated, but I’m willing to admit that I was stubborn and wrong and not as tough as I wanted to think I was. I’m actually happy to be at work today. The weekend is ahead and even though there are many fun things to do in Greensboro, I’m going to try to listen to my body.

The deadline for the book arts show has been moved to a later date so I don’t feel the urgency that I did this past week. I’ll work on this again on Sunday afternoon and post photos. I took photos of the book stretched out in its final order on the floor so I won’t have to bend over and futz around with that now. It will all be sitting work.

Flow


I finished the insides of the panels for the Flow book today. Tomorrow I will finish the back sides, which will be much simpler. I messed around with laying them on the floor and switching them around to make them “flow” better. I can already see what I will change in the process for the next book, but I’m going to finish this one and send it off.

When it hangs it needs to be ten feet long so I’ll have to do math tomorrow!

Sunday morning coffee FILTER post

Random stream of consciousness writing is what I categorize as “coffee pot posts” since they usually happen on weekend mornings when I have time to drink a small pot of coffee. At first it was an exercise to simply write until the coffee ran out. Today it is a pot AND filter post.

I started saving my used paper coffee filters made by If You Care back when I realized they were not breaking down in the compost pile and are made of high quality paper. I buy these from Deep Roots Co-op in Greensboro because I am committed to buying recycled products when possible. It is most ecologically sustainable to use the reusable washable filter that comes with the coffee maker, and that is mostly what I do, but that’s not what this post is about.

Anyway, I am working on an accordion style book that is supposed to hang on display in the Triangle Book Arts group show in 2018. The book’s theme is “FLOW” which is turning out to be rich creative ground for me, almost too much. As I started thinking about the back side of the pages and the connectors, these coffee filters came to mind. I knew that they took markers well so I decided to do ink washes on them.

I found out that some of them have wonderful resists to the ink. Next time I pull any out of the compost I will set them aside to see if it was the compost effect.

Now the problem is too many ideas. This might be a good problem to have if it helps me make a unified body of work, but as someone with panic disorder it can stop me cold. I will try to focus on getting this one book finished over the next three days and jotting down the other ideas for later.

Recovery

Above: Borage that reseeded from spring.

I’m on the front porch, attempting to blog from my Kindle, which is not always a good platform. A lot of times I will write the post, schedule it for later, check it on my big screen at work, then release it. Since I’m home for a few days more, I’ll be less picky.

My gallbladder was removed on Thursday morning, a procedure which I was never fully convinced that was necessary, but after seeing the ultrasound I went with the surgeon’s advice. Fortunately I only had a couple of attacks this summer and they weren’t as bad as my husband’s attacks seemed to be, but bad enough. It was full of “sludge” and wasn’t going to get better so now it’s been fired and marched out of the building.

I had been told there would be two incisions, but right before the surgery the wording had been changed from laparoscopic to minimally invasive and I have three inch-long incisions in my abdomen area and one small one at my navel. I signed off on it because he had also told me beforehand that he would change if necessary. I plan to ask him why it was necessary.

The level of pain afterwards surprised me. Hydrocodone has not been very effective for me in the past and I was on oxycodone after my last surgery. I didn’t consider talking to the surgeon about that before the surgery. Fortunately the nurse gave me an oxycodone in the recovery room and that helped for a couple of hours. I had surgery and was sent home before noon! That was different from Sandy’s surgery in 2006, when he was in a hospital room until about 9:30 that night.

By the time I realized that the hydrocodone was not going to control my pain, it was after office hours and I decided I could stick it out overnight. Sandy stayed home for another day and picked up a new prescription around noon. Now I have been able to sleep and although I am not painfree it is much more tolerable.

My dreams have been fun and I have played with Lucille Ball and Jerry Seinfeld and Elaine Benis. This is quite different from my ordinary dreams which usually involve moving a lot of stuff from one place to another.

Now I just finished a little pot of coffee and Sandy is making pancakes. Today should be a much better day. Will post again later, since I hope to do some work on my books for the Triangle Book Arts group show, and maybe some tapestry weaving.