New Year’s Day 2014

Last night I celebrated the end of a year.
I was clever and giddy last night,
consuming food far too rich and drinking too much wine.
It was, indeed a great gathering…
last night, a few dear friends engaged in feasting, dance and song.
I tumbled into bed scarcely past 1:30…
 Good morning you party girl! I could not rise upright before nine
 needing to nap again before noon… rumbly tummy…
 Now,”tis only nine pm- I surrender to the clock and shut out the light.

Old lang syne

I love new years…blank pages in a journal, the first pages of a brand spanking unscribbled on calendar. The hope that fills the air as old friends and new aquaintainces hug and kiss goodnite to celebrate the end of the passing year.
I spent last evening in the company of fond friends and some friends of these friends…and of course, my Romeo. The dinner party planned for nearly a month and repeatedly reminded to me-lest I weazel my way out with some lame excuse. Our hosts were serving prime rib, and the other three couples side dishes. Simple enough…Romeo went to the grocer to get what I needed; I rested. I’d only had to work part of the day and ended up working even longer than I had planned.I was home from work by two thirty and so exhausted I needed a nap.The party was great-good friends, great food and memorable conversations. I hurt so much by eleven that we missed the fireworks.

For the past two years I have been enduring chronic back pain. Over the past two months it seems to be progressing rapidly. With each new sypmptom I cringe. I have been avoiding the trajectory that has nonetheless marched on, bringing me and my ailing back with it. It is sometimes impossible to walk more than a few dozen feet or sit for more than twenty minutes or stand in place for more than ten. I am grateful for good insurance and working in a great job. There are days or more likely nights when I truly understand what so many of the patients I encounter go through. Many suffer from chronic pain, some physical others emotional or mental. I understand their need to feel some relief from constant suffering…I cringe when I hear our staff refer to them as “drug-seeking”. I take the same medication they are accused of abusing. I understand why they do so. I inch closer to that understanding each week. I hate it. I hate taking pills to try to have a restful night. I hate the constipation and the morning groginess.I have exhausted my options now and the next choice is naming the doctor who will attempt to make this nightmare end. I will try to give an accurate accounting of how that all looks after I meet with him/her.

Now the last day of the first day of the new year is ebbing. My Narco 10/325 is working. I can feel my head fogging up. Romeo is watching a football game with the dogs napping close by. The only indication there was Christmas this year is our miniature four foot tree with no ornaments save the large sparkly butterfly on top and the trees built in fibre optic lights. It sits darkly in the living room. By all honest accounts,I am not firing on all of my available cylinders.

I am optomistically attempting to make this blog weekly, or whenever I get inspired to say something. Don’t hold my feet to the fire if I miss a day. I am too tired to try and find the spell check tonight.

Happy New year one and all. Tomorrow is a work day so off to dreamland I go…

My Mother told me

Mother told me when I moved into this house

twenty plus years ago

that I was born into the wrong century.

She shook her head as I had Romeo and the boys

did up the entire back yard for a garden

She might have been right!

I spent my weekend off from work

first at the Farmer’s Market and after that

in the kitchen.

We sliced several pounds of okra

sprinkled it with cayenne pepper and garlic

and put it in the new dehydrator to dry.

Five trays of okra yielded 1/2 quart ziploc bag of dehydrated okra

For breakfast this morning I made scones for my beloved

who cooks for me five days a week…

fresh peach and blueberry scones, brushed with real cream

After that I wanted to make homemade baked beans

After that,  homemade spaghetti sauce

I did not find the pickling salt until about ten minutes ago

or I’d probably be in the kitchen making pickles right now!

I miss my Mom…she is probably shaking her beautiful halo

right now looking down on me

knowing Romeo would be the one

who had to clean the kitchen

between each culinary project.

Mom is still right!