Today in My History

2001:  Speaking Ill of the Dead
2002: Where Have I Gone Wrong?
2003:  Firsts
2004:  Wally and the Bird
2006:  Looking Back
2007I'm Unworthy
2008:  Taking Mike Huckabee's Picture
2009:  My Favorite Era
2010:  And in the News...
2011:  Civility, Pros and Cons
Time for More Tsatskes
2013: Tweeting the Golden Globes
Bits and Pieces

Bitter Hack
: 1/9
Kiss Stop

Books Read in 2015
 Updated: 1/4
"Can't We Talk about Something more Pleasant?"

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100 Happy Days

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Letter from Banesa

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The Philosophy of Juice & Crackers

The story of Delicate Pooh

mail to Walt


14 January 2015

I had just readjusted my position on the couch and was settling in to go back to sleep when I heard the phone ring.  My eyes popped open and I was instantly awake.  Those middle of the night calls are never good.  Nobody ever calls to tell you that you've won a million dollars or that your kid just got into Harvard.

It only rang once and I lay there trying to decide if it had really rung, or if I had imagined it.  Had Walt quickly picked it up so it wouldn't wake me?

Then I heard voices and thought I might have heard Walt's feet hit the floor in the bedroom above me.

Oh shit, I thought.  I was one of those mid-night calls.  Who died now?

But he didn't seem to becoming downstairs.  I finally got up.  It was 2:15 a.m. and the TV was on, so the voice I heard had come from Frasier, not from Walt. 

Still not convinced, I checked the caller ID and saw that the last incoming phone call had been the previous afternoon.  So it was all in my imagination anyway, but by now I was wide awake and couldn't get back to sleep.

I took out my iPad and checked to see if there were any comments on my journal entry--then remembered I hadn't written one yet.  So that's why I'm sitting here at 3:30 instead of going back to sleep.

We did have a death of sorts yesterday.  Well I did.  My beloved bread maker seems to have died.  Or it's sounding the death rattle.  It has stopped mixing the ingredients without help from me, which makes it as good as useles.  It has given me decades of wonderful service and I feel the death keenly, but I've been window shopping on Amazon to see what is available now.  Mine was a heavy duty, expensive Zojirushi and I loved it.  But I don't make bread as often as I used to so a cheaper model will do fine.  And yes, I could go back to making bread by hand, but I probably won't, so a new machine is in the offing.

I'm also in an adjustment period. I have re-started my diabetes medicines again, after a long time not taking them.  In fact, one of the reasons I started seeing therapist Debbie was to figure out why I was so resistant to taking them.

There is a breaking in period, I remember now, for these meds.  Whenever I start them it seems to me that it takes a couple of weeks before the nausea goes away.  This has been one of the reasons I have stopped taking them in the past. I've talked with the doctor and I know that this is a temporary thing. It's just a question of getting through it.

It's not bad nausea, but it's nausea nonetheless.  And I don't notice it until I stand up and start moving around (that old Underdog adage I mentioned the other day, Things are fine when I sit down, but when I stand up things go round and round).

Nausea can be a good thing.  When you have nausea, the last thing you want is food.  I made 2 pieces of toast for breakfast yesterday and gave one to the dogs.  I don't think I had lunch, but did have a couple of oranges in the middle of the day. And I really liked the turkey soup I made for dinner, but I could only finish half a bowl.

As I write this, the last thing in the world I feel like is something to eat and the first thing I feel like is going back to sleep.  So I think I'm going to do that.

But I'm very happy that my mid-night call was only my imagination.


Forever the beggar

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