Apropos of Nothing v.6

It's so funny to me how 72 degrees finds me taking off layers of clothing and thinking 'it's hot in here!', but 72 degrees outside is just perfect!

We've been without a furnace since that cold snap in early December, heating with space heaters and small fireplace. Can't wait to get the PUD bill... I did get an order in on a new wood/electric furnace on Dec 30 so we can write off part of it with the energy credit, but yowsie... they are not cheap.

I never have the heat set above 64, and always turn it down to 58 at night. I'm going to try turning it off completely at night. Utility bills are getting way too high! I wonder how long it will be before we see 72 degrees outside! Today is the first day I have really been craving the sun.

Any of you that use trazodone for sleep, 50 mg or less - have you ever discontinued it all at once? I have been using it for a while but am not sleeping well so I decided to quit taking it and see what's what. I'm wondering if I can just stop taking it since I use such a low dose. Hmmm.

I take 50mgs and sometimes go several days without it if I don't have to count on a solid nights' sleep. For me there are no withdrawal symptoms.

I've found that it seems to have trained my body to go to sleep when I lie down, so I'm less dependent on it these days.

Craving the sun, not sleeping well, ..... coincidence? I think not. Sounds like a possible serotonin deficit to me. If you don't have a treatment light, and easy way to test it, as long as you are not on MAO inhibitors or an SSRI, is to get yourself some 5-HTP and take it in the evening. You should know in a very few days, if not immediately, if that is the problem. I know you've posted before that you have difficulty sleeping (and my heart goes out to you, it really does. That is just so miserable.) but if Trazedone was helping you for awhile, and now it isn't, it may be a different problem than what orginally caused the lack of sleep. might be worth a try. It's cheap.

I am taking no other meds except for calcium, vit D 2000, and a multivitamin. I am going to get 5-HTP tomorrow. I have had serotonin deficiency in the past, a long time ago. Thanks Pix. Actually, I am going to go get it tonight!

I looked on the internet to read about 5-HTP and there are so many brands - Pix, do you recommend any particular one?

Also, is Lexapro an SSRI?

I've been taking Sam-E and anything else people recommend to bolster the prescription meds.

Eat dirt and other dirty substances for brain health. Oh yes and Lard, or butter, or egg yolks. The brain needs the bad fat to function right. I am serious. Steve. Oh yes and run around the outside of the house naked for 15 minutes each sunny day.

Have I mentioned the other night when I took a header into the river in my bathrobe & slippers?

I ditched the sodden bathrobe & pretty much streaked up the hill in my slippers ...

Show me the sun and I will be happy to run around outside naked.

It's much more invigorating to do it at 2 a.m. while dripping river water ...

Summerkid - are you a vampire?

Well ... I don't sleep nights, that's fer sure ...

But if there are vegetarian vampires, they WOULD live in the Northwest now, wouldn't they?

After the first winter in Bend (from San Diego) our heater quit. We were starving artists raising 7 kids and sure did not have the money to buy a new heating system so for the next 4 years we did without a heater, no fireplace, just one little space heater because our electrical system in our old manufactured home was helpless, and dogs.

Finally someone at our church got the word and they sent a guy out that worked for a heating company to take a look and see what is was going to take to get us heat. I'll never forget my husband's face when he said "Let's check the fuse" and reached around to the back of the unit........

$6.00 later...all was well (and we even had a spare)

Ginger

Steve, you are so right about the fats, but what's with first bikinis and now running naked? Do we need to talk? Where is your mind, man!

Portland, you are right about how many brands there are. I buy Source Naturals and have been happy with it. That feeling of craving the sun is almost always a big clue to low serotonin.

Summerkid, Lexipro is definitely an SSRI and you would not want to take 5 HTP with that unless you talked to your physician first. Plus, you are on SAMe, which has an excellent reputation for improving the effectiveness of anti depressant medications and, infact, helps regulate serotonin. It is a good anti depressant by itself.
Now I'm not sure about this running naked and diving into freezing water in the middle of winter routine. Did you just need the stimulation? Trying to wear yourself out so you can sleep? Possibly manic? (Maybe too much serotonin?) Get a wild hair and this was the only way to get rid of it? My hope is that this was accidental and in that case, I'm glad you are okay and do not have pneumonia.

Holy toledo, Ginger! That's quite a story!

I know where his mind is. He's 100% male!!

Ginger, that is a wonderful story.

I just heard from my brother, who has contacted my Dad's college alma mater. Dad was in the Linfield College class of '40 and played baseball there in '39 and '40. They are going to try to have him throw out the first baseball for the season opener this spring. I'm beside myself. What a wonderful tribute to my Dad. I can hardly wait. I don't think he knows yet - he will be so nervous, but thrilled to death, I'm sure. :-D

That is so cool! He will be thrilled!

OK, here is the thought process that went into the midnight dive:

I absolutely love it here. I absolutely love the roar of my little river when it's been raining. I absolutely love the humidity & precipitation & feeling of solitude. And I was sitting in my jacuzzi bathtub with the window open, leaning on the sill & listening to the river, thinking how much I'd love to be camping down in the meadow. Figuring that trying to pitch a tent in the dark would be goofy, I made some popcorn & grabbed several blankets & made my way by flashlight down a tricky hillside to watch the stars for a bit.

I set the popcorn & flashlight down, grabbed the blankets to situate ourselves & must have stepped on an eroded bit of bank because BLAM off I went.

Fortunately, the river was high & I landed in a big pool between two piles of boulders. The water felt amazing as I got pulled under & came up. I screeched a bit, though, and yelled for the dog -- "Osita, help, I'm in the water!" She goes tearing off like the self-preservationist that she is, so I'm reduced to yelling "Get back here, Lassie," and do the most damage to my tender flesh by clambering up the bank through bramble bushes.

I've dreamt every night since of slithering again into that cool, rushing water ... except that everyone else wants to sit on a couch & lecture me about how I could have hurt myself (and I did end up with a fair amount of bruises but it was way worth it).

Lovin these stories and wishing they were being told sitting around a campfire or fireplace sharing popcorn and anything else on the menu. LOL

It's now 16 outside down from 18 an hour ago. How can that be? AACCKKKK!!!

I have a huge, out of control rose, Kiftsgate, that I call the killer rose becuase it is climbing up a fir tree at now about 20 feet. When Rarejem and I were walking on Saturday to actually see our worlds in the light we found that the rose had grown tremendously and was beginning to cover the little Oriental garden I have back by the greenhouses. I had my handy pruner belt on me, of course, and decided to whack one particularly healthy new shoot. I did, but it got me back. Snagged my right thumb on the outside bone. Sunday, the thumb was so hot and sore I could not even pick up my cup of coffee with that hand. "Killer rose" indeed! What frustration with Sunday being a decent day to accomplish things outdoors! Today the thumb is still so sore I cannot pick up my coffee cup yet. Seeing we are helping solve physical problems, does anyone have any idea how to get over this in a hurry?

Soak it in vinegar is what my great grandma would advise...

I follow a simple rule - within 48 hours after such an injury, it should be on the mend. If not, get medical help. Wounds from plants, thorns, dirty stuff, etc can be nasty and get infected easily, especially puncture type wounds. Meanwhile, warm water soaks, keep it elevated, and keep it covered.

This message was edited Jan 11, 2010 10:34 AM

Portland, I'm sure DH would wait on her, but he is with her in spirit only at this point.

Sharon, I love the vision of you with your 'handy pruner belt'! Perfect!

I concur about seeing the doctor if it doesn't resolve. But I would add epsom salts to water that is hot, not to the point of discomfort, but almost. Also, I would do what medical personal advise never to do, but I do it anyway. I open the skin a bit with a sterilized needle if there is something deep inside the finger. I had the same thing happen to me on Sunday, only from a lly stalk! I twisted a particularly tough, big lily stalk and a sliver of the woody stem actually penetrated my finger. That's never happened before. By nightfall, the finger was swollen and nasty looking, and hurt. I opened up a few layers of skin with a needle (which didn't even hurt because the finger was so swollen) and soaked that baby in epsom salts. It's way better today and I think there is something working its way to the surface.

what a nasty, nasty day it is.

Summerkid, what a goof you are! Do you do these things just so you can find out how much people love you? Geez! No wonder you have a 'death awaits' sign in your bedroom. 'Slithering into that cool, rushing water'? Consider yourself good and scolded. And sounds like you had a close encounter with northwest watersoaked soil. Very, very unstable, that. Causes lots of mudslides every year.

Oh my, for a few minutes I had Sharon mixed up with her daughter Julie. I do apologize, and if I was there, I would wait on Sharon hand and foot.

Summerkid, you certainly live on the edge.

Happy Birthday Katye.

I suppose it's life on the edge by some people's standards, or perhaps an unusual desire to FEEL things. Is it hot? How cold? Can I climb that? What happens if ...

Plus, there's so much water out here! By the law of averages, you end up IN it sometimes. The day after Christmas, Jack & I were horsing around on Gleneden Beach, taking pictures of the sunset, and the tide was coming in but the ocean was calm. Well, there was a bit of a rivulet between us and a sandbar, and I got it into my head that I wanted to be out on the sandbar. So I waited for an ebb in the stream, then scurried across to the sandbar. Except that the stream then rushed back up at the same time that another wave appeared from thin air from the other direction, and right up over my toes! Then another surge, right over my hiking boots! It was like the perfect storm of one-foot waves, and there I am, up to my knees in saltwater, and Jack yelling, "What on earth do you think you're doing?!"

He wasn't mollified by my explanation (if I could have gotten onto the sandbar without a vicious attack from a bunch of tiny waves, the sheen of the sand would have blended into the ocean expanse & he could have taken a picture & it would have looked like I was walking on water).

GAAAAA! I just got the annual Christmas letter from Aunt Connie, who considers herself quite the poet.

A sampling:

"Life is a beautiful word, and means everything to me,
Some set a goal, trying to find the way to eternity.
Work & money & time, play an important part,
Combine all three, and try to find where to start."

*wince*

Well she's right. One man's poetry . . . I find that a lot - people take three or four "great" words - mystery, magic, peace, love - and then put them into a sentence that doesn't make sense. Other people then ooh and ahhhh at their insight. I don't see the poetry.

OTH, if everybody else does and if it stimulates their thinking, then it has worked!! I'm not the ultimate adjudicator for what constitutes art (except for in my own little world. :-)). It's a weird thought. Goes back to seeing grace in things that don't appear graceful on initial observation.

I love that you love life, but making it last (living through those adventures you take) is in some ways just as exciting as appearing to walk on water . . .

Sharon, I'd guess that you still have a piece of rose thorn stuck in your finger. That happens to me quite often. I'm going to guess that it will hurt until either you or the doctor digs it out. That having been said, in the midst of our "normal" infectious bacteria, there are those mutations that go crazy in your body (consider Pony's experience). One thing I WOULDN'T do at this point is wait it out any longer. Keep us posted.

And . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Kate! Hope you have the day off.

Happy day of birth to Kayte!

That 'poem' makes me a little sick to my stomach. I think I threw up a little.

There was more, Pix.

Oh, I was certain there was. I'm glad you are still standing. - shudder-

My very self-absorbed friend Kaarin used to send around a Christmas letter that was worse -- she would enumerate all the tiny milestones in her weird life, like buying her first artwork. Once she did it by listing the alphabet & her activities that coincided.

I would do dramatic readings of the letter for our other friends but I think word got back to her & she stopped for a few years. Other differences intervened & we are no longer friends.

For the most part, I don't think childless people should send around holiday letters unless they've done something out of the ordinary, like move cross-country & need to get their address to everyone.

OK, I can't resist. Connie's next stanza:

"There is no easy way, when we try on our own,
We end up wondering where to go, who might I phone?
Confusion sets in, and the goal goes astray,
Where am I going? What am I doing? Is this a play?"

I can hear my brother now; he is also thundering at me, "Sitteth not in the seat of the scornful!"

I think I sitteth in the seat of the snickereth.

:-D I think Connie's sending a message to people who don't write her. She needs some visitors and other distractions . . .

She has 8 siblings, at least 4 of whom live in town. But they squabble, and Connie is a little humorless & heavy-handed with the witnessing ...

"heavy-handed" with the witnessing. Ahh, the picture is forming for me.

Indeed! I think the picture formethed by the end of that first stanza for me. Does she also layeth on the guilt? I would feel sorry for her if I weren't getting so choked up.

Here is something to distract you from this heart-wrenching attempt at poetry. Consider this my Christmas letter bragging about my kid:

Senior Ball. A Play in One Act.
By Pixydish

Here is my adorable son, Andrew, age 17, with his equally adorable first girlfriend, Trish. They are dressed up in costumes which I made for them in 2 hours or less with materials I already had on hand. They are going to Senior Ball, a fun dance their school has every year for seniors only. It is always a costume party with a theme. This year's theme was Peter Pan, which I am sure you already could tell. Trish is dressed up as 'fairy dust'. Here is how it came to pass:

Andrew (two hours before the ball): Mom, I need a Peter Pan costume. I'm going to Goodwill to see what they have. I need a green tunic.

Me: Are you crazy? You can't be sure they will have a Peter Pan costume! You don't just go down to Goodwill expecting to find a specialty item like that. Let's see what fabric is available here at home. (scurrying around, poking into closets, etc.) How about if I use this old Army Blanket I felt compelled to buy for no good reason?

Andrew: Great!

Me: Plus, it will be warm. Stand still and hold this fabric up while I measure and cut. Don't move.

Time passes.....sounds of sewing machine, fabric being cut, ..1 hour later:

Me: Try this on! We need a belt and your little wooden sword from when you were 4. You can wear these black exercise tights underneath. Now let me measure you for a hat. I have a great feather stuck in a pot of cactus in the greenhouse. Lose my feather and you'll be sorry.

Andrew: Cool! This is great! Thanks, mom!

Enter, Trish, stage right,, dressed in ordinary clothes.

Me: Trish! Where is your costume?

Trish: I don't have one. I was thinking I could go to Goodwill and find something.

Me: Don't be insane! What kind of costume are you looking for?

Trish: I don't know.. something in gold lame. (sorry, don't have an accent on my keyboard - pronounce this 'gold lamay')

Me: Hmmm... I'm sure I have a gold lame dress up in the attic. Plus, I know exactly where it is and it will probably fit you. Let me check

Trish: Oh that's funny! I'm sure I'll find something at Goodwill I can use.

Exit, stage left. Find dress in attic in old dressup trunk belonging to daughter. Enter, stage left, holding said dress. It is torn at the hem, and ripped up the side. This is a hand made dress with hand sewn rhinestones all over the front.

Trish: You're kidding! You really have a gold dress? And it has rhinestones that sparkle??

Me: I'm not kidding. I'm a mother. It is my job to provide for even unreasonable requests less than one hour before the clock strikes the appointed time. Try this on. Don't worry about the rip and the hem. I can fix all that.

Trish: (Looking a little wary, unsure, not wanting to hurt my feelings) I don't know, I'll be surprised if it fits.

Me: Don't be ridiculous. You're going to go to the ball with my son in street clothes? I think not. Go try it on.

Trish: (Looking at Andrew questioningly) well, okay.

Trish: (coming out of the bathroom) I don't believe it! It fits perfectly!

Me: What did I tell you. Now how about we cut it off here, slit the seam up the other side, take the sleeve inserts out leaving only the netting, then we'll remove the band from the collar that makes you look like a transvestite priest.

Trish: Amazing! I'll do whatever you say!

(Taking costume to sewing machine: hurriedly cuts, sews, pins)

Me: Voila! Try this on.

Trish: (with costume on) OH my Go*! I look totally hot!

Me: A mother's work is never done. Be home before 1:00AM. Farewell!




If Summerkid posts any more stanzas to that poem, I will be forced to embellish this tale further and might even have to lie a little. I am not making this up.

Pixy, you get the prize for "Mom Extraordinaire" Your story is much more entertaining than the dreadful poetry.