Thursday, June 28, 2012

Still Not at the End

"Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right then it's not the end."

That is one of my favorite lines in the  movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. After doing a Google search to find out the correct wording, I learned that the phrase has been around for quite a while. Who said it initially? Someone named "Unknown" comes up a lot. Who ever you are, thank you!

A lot of not-so-cool stuff has happened this past week. And, that phrase has been my mantra. It is keeping me insanely sane. So is having immediate access to the Internet.  

There is the work.
As some of you know I make my living as a writer. The project I'm currently working on requires me to write on many different topics, of which I'm no expert. Too many topics to research, understand, and write about that I've taken to whimpering just before giving in to sleep that I'll never ever see the glimmer of light on the other side of this tunnel. 

"Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right then it's not the end."

There was the LOUD! party next door last Friday.
How loud? We shut all our windows on the side of the house facing the partying neighbors and their Yip,yip,yip, yip cheering, yapping, and  music were still heard, as if the the windows were all open. Grrr. The neighbors like to entertain in their backyard. A lot. Unfortunately, their backyard borders the side of our front yard. So all chatter and music  float annoyingly over the fence and into our yard and house.

Fortunately, they don't have too many parties. Fortunately, last Friday  was a cool evening so we didn't need to have our windows open. Fortunately, the neighbors are of a mature age and so their parties shut down early. They must have celebrated something very wonderful or had a very tough work day because they partied like there was no tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good party. It's just that the jollier they got, the louder they talked, and the higher the volume of the music went up. It was the kind of LOUD! that made me go search online for the local noise ordinance. And, by golly, I found it. After reading it, I will have no problem telling the neighbors to turn down their music should it ever get that LOUD! again. Hopefully, not.

"Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right then it's not the end."

There were the unauthorized charges on my credit card.
Someone had been using my credit card number since the beginning of June in another part of the state, hundreds of miles away. On the plus side, the credit card company didn't approve the majority of those charges as they were being made.  All in all, I talked with three fraud agents, of which two were very helpful, personable, and professional. That was a huge plus to me since I am quite a nervous Su-sieee! Mac until I am reassured which then allows my clarity and calmness to kick in.

When I closed the account on Monday, I thought that's that. But then yesterday, I woke up wondering what else could be done to get that person who took my credit card. So, I researched online about what to do when someone steals your credit card.

One: File a crime report with the local police department. Check. I was surprised to find a police officer knocking at my door within 15 minutes of calling the department.

Two: Notify the 3 major credit card bureaus. Check. I was able to do that online. I put a request at one bureau to place a fraud alert on my account. It, in turn, will notify the other two credit card bureaus. But, if I don't receive an email from those two bureaus within a week or so, I should notify each one.

"Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right then it's not the end."

There was the Mama falling down in the backyard.

The 90-year old woman tripped as she pushed a huge garbage can alongside the house. Maybe now she'll listen to the Husband and me about leaving the garbage cans for us to handle. Right.

She has a very ugly bruise on her knee where she landed on the concrete. It doesn't seem like she twisted, sprained, or broke any thing, though it's hard to say with the Mama. She has a very high threshold for pain. What is an arbitrary 7 on the pain scale for me is more like a 2 or 3 for her. At least she didn't say "No" when I said that we'll go see the doctor if her knee still hurts on Tuesday. Of course I'll take her sooner, if necessary, but the "threat" of going to the doctor next week may keep her off her feet for at least a day or so. Right.

Normally, the Mama doesn't tell me about her injuries or strange pains until a day or two later. This time, thankfully, she told me within the hour of her fall so that I was able to begin applying voo-doo magic on that very ugly bruise sooner rather than later. Sure, she grumbled, but she allowed me to tell her to keep her knee elevated, gently rub witch hazel on the bruise, place an ice pack on the knee, and give her an ibuprofen capsule after dinner. That may be why she was able to hobble to her bedroom a few hours later.

As I was doing all this first aid stuff, she asked me, "How do you know?" My own experience. The Husband's knowledge. Yep, I brought him into it. The more, the merrier. Even Molly the Cat came over to check out what was going on. And, of course there is looking up bruise + elderly on the Internet. Hopefully, today, the ugly bruise on the Mama's knee is just that.

"Everything will be all right in the end. If it's not all right then it's not the end."

Thursday, June 21, 2012


I'm old. Old. Old. Old. Old. Old.

Well, we're both hold. The Husband and me. Oh, he won't like me saying that. But, it is true. We are old.


Yesterday, we pedaled our cruiser bicycles against that defiant wind for several miles to buy three pounds of freshly-picked locally grown, sun-kissed cherries.

Very yummy cherries indeed.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about getting older. As wise folks say, "What's the use of complaining?" I'm just stating the fact today to myself, and you happen to be in on it.

Still, no matter how old I am, the Mama is older.

As many of you know, nothing is going to stop her from doing what she wants to do.  Example: The back yard that is her jungle of a vegetable garden. The better description is the mad scientist's horticultural sandbox. Any day, I expect her to tell me that she tore out all the bean plants and sown new seeds. Why? Because she can't stand that the plants are producing two and three inch beans, which the Husband and I are happily consuming one meal at a time.

Here's a look at her garden today.

Here's how it looked one month ago. Believe me when I say she does the garden by herself. She only lets me water the chayote vines (which aren't seen here) and that's after I whined I had to learn some day. Maybe next year, I'll get promoted to watering the bittermelon rows.

Here's a closer look of the Mama's garden today:

And, there she was at it one month ago!

I hope that I will be able to reach much older.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

I Sew Can!

I still can't sew straight lines, but what does it matter. The bigger point is to attempt and to accomplish. And you betcha big time, I so did!

I finished Molly's bridle this morning. Once Molly is used to having it on her, I'll post a photo of her sporting it. Whoo-hoo!

I also sewed a  reversible patchwork apron for a birthday gift, which the Husband is kindly holding up for me in the photos below.  Took me all of six hours, using my minimal sewing skills and following very basic instructions as well as my whim and fancy.   It's the second apron I made. The first patchwork one. I like to do patchwork. That takes center stage rather than the flaws. But, what's life without flaws, eh.

 I didn't realize the chicken panel was off until I was all done.
It adds to the perfection of its imperfection.

See, on the other side, you can't even tell the hem is crooked.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Two Sides to the Story

There are always two sides to a story, right? Here's one tale for you from the Mama's Garden.

One Side:


The Other Side:

I like both sides to the evolving summer garden story.