Dirty Laundry

Many years ago, when the children were quite young, I wound up living with a friend of mine for a short period of time.  She had 3 boys and her boyfriend had a son and a daughter.  So, all totaled there was clothes from 10 people that had to be washed.  When you include towels and bedding and such this is no small task.

Friday nights, after all the kids were asleep, usually around 11 pm I would scoot down the basement stairs and my wheelchair would be brought down after me so I could get back in and begin "the night of laundry".  After I would complete my laundry, I would start on the others.  We had grocery carts that I would fold and put clean clothes into.  I would do wash till abut 7 am the next morning.

One night, somewhere in between spin and dry I looked around and penned this short poem.  I know I am missing a line in here, after all it was over 35 years ago that I wrote this...hahahahah.  You can see how traumatic the situation was.

                                                               LAUNDRY

Working and slaving through daytime's begrudgery, you say nothing is worse than housework drudgery?
Ba hum bug I say though it may sound sundry, nothing is worse than doing the laundry!!!

From cotton to synthetic the scene couldn't be cuter, to figure out which wash cycle to use you need a computer!

Torn between the whiteness of wish and the power of rumble onward into that world of grime I stumble.

My eyes bulging with worry, my head swimming with facts, I start folding the clothes and piling them in stacks.
My mohair is hairless, my blues have turned pink, my shift has shifted and my caftan is kinked.

And right in the midst of this terrible mess, I suddenly remember, it was the cat I threw in on permanent press.

Although I am doing laundry now for just me, it is still not one of my favorite tasks.

Welcome to my world!

I went shopping yesterday.  Shopping for me is a bit different than it is for many people.  I put the basket on my lap and then try to get what I can in the basket.  Sometimes I fill a basket, take it to a closed checkout lane; empty the basket and continue shopping and emptying the basket until I am through.  That works pretty well unless an over zealous stock person restocks my food, which has happened more than once.

Anyway this is a story about my shopping trip yesterday.  My first stop was to get my hair washed at the salon in the shopping center then to Pick N Save.  I got my groceries and asked the attendant to please go grab me a nice big watermelon.. which he did.  I then got back into the car and headed to the Outpost grocery store, they sell organic food there.  Got my grass fed beef and all the fresh vegetables that I need to by organically, then headed home.  I had about 5 trips from the underground parking to my apartment.  The first bag contained a 2 liter bottle of Diet Coke (still have not been able to totally break myself of the diet soda habit) put the soda on the counter next to the refrigerator.  Next trip to the van, I thought, I am going to try and carry a bit more so I don't have to make so many trips.  I put the watermelon on my lap and then a bag of groceries on top and proceeded to carry them upstairs to my apartment.  Instead of setting the bag on the floor and putting the watermelon on the counter, I tried putting some groceries away first.  While I was doing that the watermelon slipped off my lap onto the floor.

It was about 9 pm so I called the only neighbor I knew to ask her to come and pick up the watermelon for me because I could not leave it on the floor.  She was not home.  So I tried wedging my foot rest under the melon, it was too big and that did not work.  Then I tried using my transfer board to get it under the melon and perhaps wiggle it up the wall to where I could grab it...that didn't work.  I didn't want to call my son and have him drive over just to pick up a melon, so I thought.."there has to be someone still up on a Saturday night in this building", and proceeded to push up and down the hallways on three floors listening for signs of life from each apartment.  There was none to be found.  Got back to my kitchen and the errant melon at about 9:45 pm.  Thought to myself, "OK, if I can't pick up a whole melon, perhaps if I get the big knife and cut it in half I will be able to pierce it with the knife and get it off the floor that way.  So, here I am at 10 pm, hacking away at this poor melon on my floor, juice going everywhere.  I got it cut in half and then pierced the half with the knife and picked it up...up...crap..the melon was starting to slip off the knife!  I quickly grabbed the melon half with one hand and the knife flung backward right into the Coke bottle piercing it and causing a flood of soda to squirt out of the bottle onto my refrigerator, all over my pictures, microwave, and me.  I quickly set the melon half on the other counter and grabbed the bottle and put it into the sink. I was not a happy camper, f bombs were dropped.  The next half of melon was too heavy to pick up that way so I wound up cutting it in half again.  Washed the melon off and cut it up and put it in the refrigerator.

Today as I think about this I am not frustrated...in fact I find it hysterical.  It probably looked like a one man version of the Keystone Cops in my kitchen!!!   Its amazing the change in perspective when I allow myself a little time to compose myself and look at situations from a calmer perspective.

I Know You Can Quit Smoking!!

I say this with love to all my smoking friends and family.  If you are saying, "I've tried to quit but I can't" I say please try again.  I know it is not easy but if you keep on trying at some point you will win.  My kids remind me of the time I was reading a book about quitting smoking.  On the front of the cover there was a cigarette with a circle with a line through it and me with a cigarette with a big long ash hanging off it. It took many years after that for me to become successful.

About 15 years ago I was having terrible problems with a sore on my foot not healing.  I was sent to the hyperbaric department at a local hospital.  As I entered the examining room I knew I was in deep do do.  On the wall was a sign which read "Don't Expect Me To Do What You Won't Do For Yourself".  I read it not fully understanding its implication at this point.

After about 10 minutes, this wiry man who bore a great likeness to Richard Dreyfus came bouncing into the room.  In a matter of moments, while he was simultaneously questioning me about my smoking and drinking habits, he attached electrodes to my leg which would measure blood flow and drew markings with a black pen on my leg.  One of the markings was a circle around my knee.  He was all friendly-like and light, bubbly and congenial and with no warning what-so-ever, he put his hand on my shoulder; looked me straight in the eye and proceeded with the following tirade:   "Do you know what that line is for?" he said pointing at the circle he had drawn around my knee.  "No" I replied.  He said, "That is where your leg will be amputated if you don't stop smoking!  So you are aware I am rich enough, I don't need your money so if you don't do as I tell you to, you don't need to see me.  I can heal this but you will have to do your part.  You will have to quit smoking.  Now I know it is not easy.  However, I have had excellent success with the patch.  Your insurance won't cover them, but just so you know they will cover a lung resection if you don't quit smoking and you are more than welcome to suit yourself.  If you choose to work with me you have to sign a release which allows me to require you to take a urine test if I suspect you are continuing to smoke and I will have the right to drop you from my practice if I find that you are."  I felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the room.  I signed the waiver, took the information about smoking cessation and went to my car and cried.

The next day at work I told my co-worker that I had to quit smoking, without knowing what happened at the doctor's office she proceeded to tell me how beneficial the patch was because her husband who had been a heavy smoker for many years and worked construction with many other smokers, quit cold-turkey using the patch.  She had required him to do so when she found out she was pregnant.  So, that planted a little seed in my brain .... buy the patch.

I went home that evening and without knowing what had transpired at the doctor's office my youngest son came over to visit and as he sat down on the couch he put a little stack of patches on the table and said..."I'm not ready to quit smoking mom, maybe you are and you can use these."  That was just too freaky for words.  I took them and used them and I haven't had a smoke since.

If my words are not enough encouragement perhaps this video which was posted by Raw For Beauty  on Facebook will help:  

I Must Just Do It..

My son was giving me blog pointers not long ago. Tonight after dinner we were talking and he said "mom, I haven't seen any posts". "To be honest" I said, "I don't know what to write about." But I write all the time in Facebook. So I guess that will be my starting point.

Psychic Medium Molly Morning Star had a post about her Step Mom finding a wallet of her mother's 11 years after she died. Her Step Mom wrote: "Today I found an old wallet of my mother"s. She died 11 years ago last month. Folded up and tucked away, was a poem that she wrote. It seemed to be written especially for someone to find after she passed-away. It spoke about her desire to be remembered in a positive way...with memories of laughter and happy times and to not grieve too long but to be happy for what was and for what it is now. It was and is a true gift as I continue to go through so many things that were stored in my once family home."

It reminded me of when my mother died. I was given a box with all sorts of stuff in it. One day I decided to go through it and there was a book of poems by Helen Steiner Rice. When I picked the book up I found there was an index card inserted on a page so I turned to that page. It was the poem

When I Must Leave You ~Helen Steiner Rice

When I must leave you
for a little while
Please do not grieve
and shed wild tears
and hug your sorrow
to you through the years

Start out bravely
with a gallant smile
and for my sake
and in my name,
live on and do
all things the same

Feed not your loneliness
on empty days,
but fill each waking hour
in useful ways

Reach out your hand
in comfort and cheer,
and I in turn
will comfort you
and hold you near

Never, never
be afraid to die,
For I am waiting
for you in the sky 

It just seemed odd that the poet's name and the name of the poem has stuck with me all these years, and that when I "googled" the poet's name When I Must Leave You was the first to appear in the search.  

It has been at least 30 years since my mother passed.  I wonder if we somehow know and leave these things for the ones we love before we pass; or, do we do these things after in spirit form.  My mother was quite psychic when she was alive; I wonder if because of that she was able to stay in contact with us in spirit.

I know I don't talk about this kind of stuff often because people look at you in one of three ways:

1. You have fallen off the sanity train.
2. You are playing with the devil or demonic entities. OR
3. Yes...finally someone who has had somewhat the same experience.

Have you had a similar experience?