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2003-01-02 - 9:32 a.m.
The best and the worst
May the best of last year be the worst of this year. ----One wants to be very careful saying that, a mixup could be disastrous! - - 'TWAS THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS 'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste At the holiday parties had gone to my waist. When I got on the scales there arose such a number! When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber). I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The punch and the candy, the bread and the cheese And the way I'd not said, "No thank you, please." As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt And prepared once again to do battle with dirt--- I said to myself, as I only can "You can't spend a winter disguised as a man!" So--away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip Every last bit of food that I like must be banished "Till all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a cookie--not even a lick. I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick. I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie, I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry. I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore--- But isn't that what January is for? Unable to giggle, no longer a riot. Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet! - - - Now don't go getting any ideas about dieting. I just thought the above was cute. I have just gone through my normal morning routine, which is evening for me. Deviled eggs, very thin pastrami, home-made tortilla chips and Italian sausage/cream cheese filled mushroom caps washed down with sparkling cranberry juice (that means carbonated!!) was a very tasty breakfast-supper. Just left overs from New Year's Eve, but since there were only 6 here and I can only cook for 10 or more, the leftovers may be hanging around for days. I must do the hard thing and eat them as much as possible. 800 is being brave also, I may not cook again for several more days, even though he faithfully does the bacon and egg thing each morning. I am past the stage of dieting for looks. The only thing that motivates me now in that area is my new bad knee. If it is still as painful next week, I suppose I shall be going back on the starvation diet. Enough painkillers tend to dull the appetite alot. I found out yesterday that the knee is still there just waiting for an excuse to deal out punishing blows. I took down the Christmas decorations and, in the process, cleaned out several pockets of clutter that have been languishing behind furniture for months. Worked from 9 to 4 and then decided I should have put on my work shoes instead of light slippers. I think my days of running around barefoot or slippered are over. I hate the thought of rising each day and putting on socks and comfortable shoes, but I think that is the story of my future. There are a lot of sad little stories lurking around waiting to be told, I'm afraid. The only one I really fear to hear is the one about failing eyesight. I haven't heard any rustling of pages in that direction, so maybe that will be a tale never told. I think I can bear much of what old age holds if I can still read. I had a real revelation after church last night. It was a good service with a man from south of us relating the signs of a perverse person or people from Micah 2:1. I used to think I was faily good at the social stuff, but not in this particular situation. As I thought of it as I waited in the car for 2d, I think I may have discovered some of the roots of the feeling of alienation we have. We are manless. That turns us into social pariahs in some circles. 2d is 28 and has no boy friend, I am 62 and have no husband involved even peripherally. It makes no difference that 800 is involved as chaplain in nursing homes. He is not with us. Over the last years, that has not been an issue with those in our family. We all continue to recognize 800 as the spiritual leader of our family. In spite of his departure from a full time pulpit position, he probably reads the Bible, prays, and ministers to folks more than the average pastor. I would never say that participating in church activities is a thing to neglect, but I can see why he does. His disabilities, personality, and former status all make for a recipe of non-acceptance from most of his Christian brothers and I can accept their attitudes in this area also. What I can't understand is how that translates over to 2d and me, but it does. Just give us the leper's bell and call us 'Unclean'. At my age, I am fairly immune from feeling hurt about the situation. I have had my days in the sun, the times of often unwanted pre-eminence and being sought after. 2d is the one that doesn't understand and sometimes in unguarded moments, I can see the hurt she hides so sucessfully. You will have to be her Isaiah 54 Father, just as You are my Isaiah 54 Husband. And that is enough.
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I may have found a way to end the cyberspace fling of my entries. I think if I 'copy' them before trying to send them, I may be able to save them from disappearing if I lose my connection. I shall try that for a while. I hate to lose a post, because then I am in no mood to either reconstruct the lost one or write another. I tried writing one in Notepad but that was very unsatisfactory. I did find a Word window complete with ruler, but I have forgotten what the exact name was or how I got to it. I think I went through Accessories. I had better try to retrace my steps. Once is not enough to make a trail on my aging synaptic connections.
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