Among Other Things

           Jaime was looking for something in the shed.  She pulled out all the Christmas decorations and then some.  Are you kidding me?  It seems like Richard and I just cleaned the shed.  I remember throwing away a bunch of garbage and now we’re doing it again.

          I have always been a nostalgic person and have hung onto things.  Items I’ve had since I was twelve!  I thought one day I could pass on my “treasures” Make family history more exciting for whoever.  There is so much I have saved through the years.  Jaime’s stuff, my stuff.

          She doesn’t want it.  I guess I don’t blame her.  I don’t want it either.  Not anymore.  If we were to move again I would be leaving 90% of this behind.  So why not just get rid of it now.  Who else would want a box full of journals – at least 12 volumes of Jaime’s life prior to birth until just after our move to Oregon.  I think she was twelve when I stopped writing for her and let her figure it out on her own.

          She’s not nostalgic.  Our oldest saves things like I do – saves in boxes but never looks at his stuff.  Always misplaced.  Always taking up space.  My second son is also nostalgic.  He saves stuff unnessesarily.  And then there’s our youngest boy who has always been able to throw stuff away.  Doesn’t save anything.  Not at all sentimental.  There were a few times I envied that.  Not to have an attachment.

          Piles and piles and boxes and now a lot of empty bins and still more to go through.  Richard wants to make a trip to the dumpster.  I would like to put everything in a rented dumpster and have them haul it all away.  And I mean all of it.  There are items that could go to a second hand store.  Too many items.  Most in good condition.  Some just fair.  And some – well I certainly don’t want it.  I can’t see that someone else was.

          The hardest thing has been throwing away the photographs – which I have saved digitally.  Some on CD.  Most on flash drives.  But those may become obsolete as well.  And then what?  I’m at the point where it just doesn’t seem to matter anymore.  No pictures, no journals, no scrapbooking, no memorabilia.  Enough of the clutter.

          Jaime wants to have a yard sale with a lock box and slot.  Pay whatever you’re willing or just haul it off.  We don’t need it.  We don’t want it.  We don’t have room – not that we ever did.  Why are we saving it?

          I remember one sister in our ward who had one son and boxes full of family history.  She wanted him to carry on the family legacy after she passed.  He doesn’t have the compassion.  He didn’t want her boxes of “treasures” and Jaime doesn’t want mine.  Or hers.  It’s just stuff.  We’ll be fine without it.  My youngest boy would have no problem discarding it all.

Happy Anniversary

          On Tuesday Richard cut his finger. We took him to the Veterans’ clinic where he received treatment.

          He had been in a hurry and the saw had grazed his bone.  He did not have to have stitches.

          I had offered to take food to a member of our ward though I had forgotten.  I should have set an alarm to remind me.

          I received a message from another when Richard and I were finishing up our celebratory meal.

          My phone does not tell me what time the text was sent but rather what time it was opened by me.  How lame is that?

          I had opened upon receiving but evidently it had been sent at least 20 minutes before I received it. 

          Long enough for the other (who was dropping off the food to me and I would take it the rest of the way – for she didn’t know where he lived and is having financial issues.  The one receiving the meal lives off grid and signal is lost before one is even halfway to his house from the exit) to deliver the meal herself.  So she was out of pocket when I called her back.

          Richard was told to take it easy.  He wasn’t sure whether he had the strength to vendor or not.  He had changed his mind twice within the hour.

          The truck wouldn’t start.  A sign to stay home and take it easy.  I would not allow Richard in the shed to work on projects or in the kitchen to bake. 

          He was told to keep his finger elevated.  I told him to stay on the couch and not work.

          Such a man child.  We went to the movies just before 5:00.  Celebrated our wedding anniversary watching “Coyote vs. Acme”.  I liked it.  Much much better than Roger Rabbit.

          Today Richard worked in the shed.  NOT taking it easy despite my advice.  He got sick and worn out.

          Too many reminders of love and pain.

20 Too Short 50 Too Long

             My favorite way of teaching is not so much to teach but to conduct.  Ask questions and see where the class members take it.  I learn so much more if we feed off of each other.  So I was excited to learn yesterday that we are expected to teach that way.  In just 20 minutes?  We were told to keep our answers brief.  My examples are NOT always brief.

            We are supposed to study at home.  We were always supposed to study at home.  But not everybody has or does.  It’s crucial.  So I’ve started.  In addition to reading and trying to understand, I study better watching “Come Follow Me” videos – and there are quite a lot of them on my plate and I don’t always get to all of them.

            This week I started with “Teaching With Power” by Ben Wilcox.  He gave three suggestions on what one might teach if prompted to do so.  His first lesson idea is called “Trust, Don’t Lean”.  He starts out with an analogy of a guide for repelling.  My thoughts started flooding in – so much that I could easily fill the 20 minutes by myself. 

            First thought I had was the one and only time I had gone repelling with my two brothers.  I think Steven was only nine at the time.  Frank was the name of the guide who was at one end of the rope as we made our way to the bottom.  As he prepared each participant with gear and instructions would ask, “Do you trust me?” 

            Steven would yell, “I trust Frank” .

            With each participant Steven would raise his voice in hopes that Frank would hear him.  When it finally came Steven’s turn to be dropped over the side (and I do mean drop) Frank asked, “Do you trust me?”

            Instead of his enthusiastic yell, Steven quietly said “Well, sort of.”

            How many times do we seek the advice of the Lord but are hesitant to follow his council?  Where is our faith?

            I thought about two talks given in conference of April this year. One is this week’s assigned reading for Relief Society is “Jesus Christ Is the Way” by Elder Brian J. Holmes of the Seventy.  The other one is “Choose Jesus Christ as Your Guide” by Edward B. Rowe.  Both such powerful talks.

            I thought about the TV program called “Wagon Train” where experienced guides lead pioneers from Missouri to California.  

During their three or four month travel sometimes there are those who don’t understand why they would lead the wagons one way as opposed to another or don’t have the patience to wait when the wagons come to a halt and they are asked to set up camp until the weather changes or the danger passes or what have you. Some choose to leave the wagon train while others allow their prejudices to take over and con others into following them rather than the experienced guides. 

            There are so many movies made about those making bad decisions based on their own understandings rather than putting their faith in the guide.  I thought of two – One called "The Mountain Between Us" which I describe here 

I don’t remember the title of the other but I think it was based off of one of Jack London’s books, A guide in Alaska take a spoiled couple to unfamiliar territory or attempts to.  They never make it to their destination as the weather becomes unbearable and the guide turns the team around.  They offer more money but there are certain things that can’t be bought – such as wisdom. 

So many examples!  I don’t know how short I can keep my comments so I don’t know how much I may contribute to either lesson.  It will be interesting.

Thunder, Rain, Bonnie

 

I remember having feared thunderstorms when I was a child.  I quite like them now – although the lightening still creates concern as of the many fires we’ve had in this state and I guess across the nation.

This morning the thunder was quite loud and the lightening looked close.  Perhaps too close. 

I am no longer afraid of the sound produced by the thunder.  Even though it disturbed my sleep I did enjoy the sounds.  I was in awe that Bonnie didn’t seem bothered by the storm.  But something else was ailing her.  She had an upset stomach.  But she inhales her food.  Something disagreed with her.

She’s an insecure dog.  Doesn’t like to be alone.  Didn’t react to the thunder.  She doesn’t like the rain.  Neither does Richard.  Missed two vendor set ups because of the rain.  We did go to the park yesterday.  It was slow but we did make some profit.  We have now added these Halloween decorations.

Motorcycle Ministry

           A few weeks ago we were finishing up our day as vendors in Myrtle Creek.  A consumer had talked to Richard about setting up as vendors in a church parking lot in Canyonville.  We were told it was open on Fridays. 

          We had gone on a Friday and saw one vendor set up and one waiting for direction.  We were finally told to set up in the dirted area if we planned on leaving before six but could set up in the parking lot if we planned to stay until six.  We chose the part day option.

          Richard traded the first vendor an amplifier for a large bag of figs and grapes.  I believe we got the better deal.  I think that vendor stayed only a few hours before he left.  Meanwhile another vendor set up camp next to us.  We were so far back it’s a wonder we made any sales.  We were told that we could vendor on Wednesday when they had better sales.  Uh, no.

          There is a food truck that gives out free produces.  They were in the parking lot and we were near the fence hoping to sell product.  We had a few lookers but no buyers.  After the food truck ran out of produce, they left and Richard and I could see no purpose in remaining in the lot – the ONLY vendors there. 

          As we were packing up we met Tony.  He presented us with 22 dollars and told us to allow others to take product at his expense.  I did not notice his motorcycle that day.  But he talked to us again yesterday.  He rides his motorcycle from Coos Bay.  I don’t know how often.  I did give away a tea light stand (which I’ve dubbed as a Jack-O-Lantern. 

We still have more items to give at Tony’s expense.  But we will be doing it at Myrtle Creek or Seven Feathers.  I don’t expect we will be returning to the Church.  It was worth a shot and we did meet some fine people.  But it doesn’t work for us as vendors.

Sold product as Myrtle Creek today and will still fulfill the passalongs at Tony’s expense. So nice to meet such a kind hearted man.

Missing Fruit

           The first counselor of the bishopric has been conducting the meetings for this month. It was fast and testimony meeting on August first.  He invited youth to come share their testimonies with warning if they did not do it that week that they would be called upon to share the following week.

          I have been in some wards where when speakers were not present the bishop has called speakers out of the audience.  Some are gifted enough to pull it off.  I would like to be one that can.

          Two years ago I would study the “come follow me” lessons as though I would need to teach.  And last year our bishop used the outline for sacrament meeting talks.  Thus I would study the lesson with a certain topic in mind that I could prepare a talk.  This year?  Sometimes I can find something to share from the Old Testament.  But not every week.

          When the youth were sharing testimonies about their time at camp, I tried to reflect on past activities that I had done as either a youth or youth leader.  Of course the leader ones stood out better as they happened more recently.  I had served the two years prior to my engagement and then marriage to Richard.

          One of the experiences that stood out was a reenactment of Lehi’s dream.  We were asked to hang onto a rope which represented the Iron Rod.  If called upon I would have given a talk relating to that experience as found here. 

I Won’t Be DWTS

           I had signed up for a dance class in my junior year of high school.  It was not on my schedule of classes.  I still wanted to take the class and tried to transfer in.  Nada.  And then I got my report card.  They had me failing this class that I wanted to take but wasn’t taking.  Apparently my name was on the role.  I was so mad!

          The office had a different schedule than the one I had.  I had tried to transfer into the class and the instructor didn’t even recognize my name as her absentee student?  I was angry.  I let every faculty member know how I felt.  It was wrong!  Their failed system was not my fault. 

          Grade retracted.  I did not fail the class I hadn’t taken.  I still wanted the class . . . or so I believed.

          Almost 50 years later I am watching the talents of the pros on Dancing With the Stars and the need for two other dancers to join their team.  I am amazed at what their bodies can do as they learn and create routines and get thrown around and learn new steps and perform in such a short time.  Wow. 

          Start while you’re young.  Even before high school – which I did.  Mom had enrolled me in various dance classes but it is not something I pursued.  It was probably better for me in the long run to not have been part of the class.  I was on the skinny side and may have been one of the dancers that was thrown.  But it’s in the past.  It’s a forgotten desire.

          When I look at the dancers performing on Dancing With the Stars I am in awe.  What talent.  What creativity.  What excruciating hard work!  Probably why it is only on twice a year.  The dancers might need the four to six month rest.  How does that even work?  Do they get a break?  They are putting their bodies in jeopardy every bit as football players who land on each other or hockey players who may sometimes slide and fall or any other athlete of so many different sports.  Dancers are athletes in a sense as it is physically demanding and teamwork is very important.

          I think it’s a great opportunity for those who have that desire and ambition.  I don’t know that I would have had the desire.  I’m not competitive for one thing.  I do have a heart murmur which I’m guessing I’ve had since childhood and thus I do get easily wiped out just walking.  And to be able to dance in heels.  Forget that!

          I appreciate dancers.  I appreciate performers.  I enjoy the music and talents of those who play instruments and sing.  My talent doesn’t lie in singing either.  But I do like to sing and I do like to dance almost as much as I enjoy watching dances and listening to music.

Never Too Early for Halloween

 Jaime's favorite holiday.  New sale introduced yesterday.

Queen Anne's Lace

 Since Sugar and Cocoa have left, Queen Anne's Lace seems to have taken over the yard.  Overall I don't miss the goats.   It would be nice to have a weed free yard.  Dream on!

Between Worlds

           I have been rewatching the series “This is Us” which jumps back and forth from childhood to adulthood and intertwines stories of not only the five Pearsons (Jack, Rebecca, Randall, Kate and Kevin) but others whose paths cross with the five main characters – some becoming main characters more than Jack).  The constant flashbacks usually drive me nuts but I have been looking at this series in a different frame of mind.

          I have only one and a half episodes left.  Rebecca now has dementia and the three children are proposing ideas of how to deal with her care.  They don’t have the gospel.  They don’t pray about their decisions.  They have never done role play the way that we had in my family.  We made decisions based on mom’s desires but also prayed about decisions we made.  For many we knew the answers before the question was asked.

          The biggest one came when the doctors had approached us with the decision of cutting off her leg or putting her on dialysis or perhaps it was time to consider hospice care.  Hospice care.  We all agreed before the doctor walked away.  The recent in-law to join the family was taken aback.  How could we possibly make such a life-changing decision without even thinking about it.  Truth is we had thought about it.  Long before Mom got dementia she had told us that she didn’t ever want to go on dialysis.  It was her wish. 

          Having a missing leg would have been devastating as she was not in the frame of mind to understand why it was missing.  It would have to be explained to her several times a day.  She would have been miserable.  Hospice provided a pleasantness which we all witnessed as she would fade in and out with the other side.  We knew she was happy.  But that is how we were raised.  We were raised not only believing in God but confiding in Him and allowing Him to be a part of our decisions. 

          We have our free agency.  He helps us to be free.  He allows us to feel peace. I wish everybody else had the same closeness that we have in my family.  We are not perfect but our upbringing has certainly made a tremendous different that I don’t see very often.  I wish we were part of the majority.  I wish everyone had that.

Downsizing

           Richard felt excited to make some toy rabbits to add to our planters plus items.  It is almost mid July and I wonder how many will purchase planters to start gardens that theoretically should have been started months ago.  But I am by no means a gardener.  What do I know?

          We do a farmers market on Wednesday and one on Saturday.  We usually get more business on Wednesday.  Take yesterday for example.  Richard had wanted to make a whole slew of bunnies. We have never introduced them and I told him that we should just stick with the four we had.  We didn’t know that right after we set up there would be two busloads of children, each with five dollars to spend.  We sold three bunnies and three painted stools within the matter of minutes. 

          There was one girl who wanted a robot planter (which I learned later on, works well as a doll chair) but they are 20 dollars.  When we returned home I suggested to Richard that he just make smaller robots out of the scraps of wood.  Why not.  I don’t know if we’ll continue after this month.  They may be more time consuming.  But I think it will be a hit with the children.

Zyrtec over the counter is NOT the same as prescription

 . . . at least it seems that way.  My doctor had called in a prescription in March – I was told to take as needed.  Now I’ve taken Zyrtec before.  Over the counter.  The small white pill is oval shaped.  They have not made me drowsy.  But this small pez shaped ones that the pharmacy doled out . . . omigosh!

          The first couple of times I had taken the small pez shaped cetirizine I felt like I was in a coma for two days.  That is when I decided maybe it would be best if I cut them in half.  It still knocked me out.  I took only as needed.  I’ve cut six of them into thirds – which still wipes me out.  I still have twelve full ones left.  Perhaps I’ll need to cut them in forths.

          I do sleep better.  Much better.  The garbage truck collected the trash.  I don’t know what time.  I was zonked.  Won’t be taking one again for a while.  And it will only be a third of one.  Good night!

Thank You, Paul

           I was on my way to the casino to use the restroom.  Paul was walking his dog.  I could tell it was partly pit and was looking at every human the way Bonnie does.  I stopped to pet the dog and made small talk with Paul and continued on my way.

          I heard a bark and wondered if his dog had encountered another – as we often see many dogs out with their owners.  When I returned to the parking lot I walked toward our canvassed booth and saw Paul walking with his wife.  No dog.  Evidently the dog was being punished for going off like an alarm.

          There was a cool breeze – almost too cool.  I had my sweatshirt on most of the day and had purposely moved my chair into the sun.  I didn’t seem to notice the wind on the outside of the tent but it was evident under the canopy.  As I was about to return to my shaded spot a huge gust knocked over at least one of our pots.

          Paul, who wore an arm cast and sling, bent over to pick up the pieces and I bent down to help him.  After all, I felt an obligation to clean up after the wind had knocked our product.  But Paul insisted that he clean it up and I should sit down.  But I had two hands with which to pick up and to hold.  But then perhaps he felt the need to prove that he was not disabled.

          He hadn’t purchased anything but apparently he had given a tip to replace our loss.  That was dang sweet of him!  Kudos, Paul.  Not just for the tip but for your kindness.  Perhaps it should have been us who had given the bill to you.  Thank you.

Keeping Up With Superman

Jai had purchased six pairs of socks to give to Roland for father's day.

  

Tomorrow we will be going to see the movie Supergirl. 

the Worth of Souls

 

          Jaime sent me a photo of her beloved dog.  Unlike Hi-Five, Bonnie is real.  But the photo reminded me of the many “treasures” that become earless, eyeless or in Hi-Five’s case, furless as they are cherished by children.

 

          I have used a quote from the Velveteen Rabbit.  I had shared this thought quite recently with the other members of the Relief Society presidency.

 Skin Horse to Velveteen Rabbit:

    “Generally by the time you’re real, most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all because once you are real you can’t be ugly except to people who don’t understand”

    And then I read another quote that I found in a notebook I had grabbed:

    “We see outward appearances.  God sees what we can’t –

He sees underneath”

Hi-Five has looked shabbier than this (here).  His fur was never soft.  I don’t know what it is about him that had Jaime (who I had earlier referred to as Jenna) so attached.  She had definitely loved away much of his inside fluff as well as outside.  When she was two or three, Richard had taken her to Build-a-Bear and had her beloved dog restuffed.  We can’t see it from the outside but have faith that there is a heart inside.  Okay.  It’s made of plastic, but it’s there.  We can’t see it.  

We can’t always see what’s underneath.  We don’t always get the worth. 

          Bonnie is real.  She is overweight.  She has slowed down big time within the last six years (well almost six full years since we acquired her).  When she came to us we believed she was only one or two – but it turned out to be more like four or five. 

          We had noticed an infection in her eye on Friday.  Jaime had taken the above picture on Saturday.  We have said countless prayers and put her name on the prayer rolls. On Sunday her eye was looking better.  Pupil was more visible though still higher than should be. We took her to the vets today.  The eye infection was not a result of having been loved too much – it didn’t drop off.  But that is what it reminded me of.

          We don’t always understand her pain.  Overall we can tell she is mostly happy.  Still loves people giving her attention.  Some people don't see what we see.  There are some that just don't understand. We love our dog.  Both dogs.  Hi-Five is not active like Bonnie has been but will be around longer.

Taking a Turn

 On Wednesday we sold over 200 dollars worth of product.  So much better than the Mega Summer weekend.  It wasn’t as hot on Wednesday as the weekend had been.  Today we needed coats.  I’m not kidding.  COATS.

We didn’t do as well today as we had on Wednesday, but we did sell a planter box.  So that was nice.

I’d forgotten about the city-wide yard sale and extra tent set ups, the rodeo and the rodeo parade.  I had mentioned the rodeo parade in this post and have a rough map of the parade route at the end.  Today’s parade was horses and fire trucks and I think that was it.  Not a great view from where I sat, but I wasn’t there to watch the parade.

Busy day as a city.  Busy day with automotive traffic.  But not so much foot traffic.  Weird.

The Goats are Gone

           Jaime and I corralled the goats into Mary’s yard before Mother”s day.  They were confined to their own yard for a week before Richard opened the gate to allow them back into our yard.  Funny thing is when Jaime and I had sent them on their way, they appeared as toddlers still.  But they had turned into teenagers within that week.

          They have picked our yard clean – well with what we allowed.  Sugar’s horns were longer and she could not get her head in and out of holes that she could reach.  Cocoa had a sack.  I expect that Sugar will be pregnant before the end of summer. 

Richard and I were pulling weeds and trimming trees and throwing them over the fence so the goats would have something.  This morning we started to tackle the fencing in order reach the trees which may produce pears after six more years.

It was nice having the goats mow our lawn.  But they seemed to be a lot more work than weed wacking had been.  Richard doesn’t seem to have a problem climbing the hill.  I’m getting better with some of it, but am afraid of losing footing.

No more goats.  They have been moved to another location.  It won’t be long before the house next door goes up for sale.  Houses for sale on both sides of us plus at least one more.  It’s a good neighborhood.  May it continue with good neighbors.

A Room for Each Hobby

  

          Richard has a BA in graphic arts.  He uses his office to design cards (here) and programs. 

          He fixes watches and has a desk in the back room along with an assortment of watches, watch parts, batteries and new toys to improve his hobby (here).

          At first he was just fixing them and donating them to the homeless shelter.  But when the homeless shelter seemed to have their fill of watches and more than people, a deal was made with an artisan in Ashland in which Richard would leave his watches and the owner would price them and split the proceeds.  Richard allowed for Jaime to collect for extra spending when she was in college.

          And now for the latest hobby.  Richard had wanted to purchase some planters for our yard – only he didn’t want to spend what it cost and wondered if he could make them cheaper.  He can.  And after he built six for our yard wondered if we couldn’t sell them.  He turned my shed into a workshop.  Oh boy.  Too small for what he is doing.  It’s going to get hot.

Never Again

           The reason why Richard started making planters was because we needed planters for our yard but didn’t particularly wish to pay over 150. for each one. He thought he could make one for less.  After filling six planter boxes for ourselves, Richard wondered if we’d be able to sell them.  And so we started a business.  Or are attempting to.

          We would take our planters and other items (Richard keeps on adding small things) to farmers markets perhaps we could sell them.  We have made enough to cover our expenses but are now in a loll with spending cash only and not paying bills as we had hoped.

          His first experience was in Riddle – I think when I was sick.  He took Jaime for the afternoon – I think from 12:00 to 4:00 on Fridays.  It was not the most productive – but the least amount for set up fee.  Myrtle Creek has farmers market on Saturday from 10:00 to 2:00 and Canyonville is Wednesday from 9:30 to 1:30. 

          Thus far we’ve made sales in Canyonville and Myrtle Creek.  His first two projects were special orders custom made.  We then sold three planters in Canyonville when the weather was nice.  Not such a great turn out when it is cool or overcast.  There have been a few Saturdays that we have worn coats and we had sweaters on Wednesday.  The temperature had raised over 40 degrees for the weekend.

          Last Wednesday the girl in the booth next to ours asked if we would be doing the Summer Mega Mart coming up for Friday and Saturday (12^th and 13^th). We had never even heard of it, but Richard called the provided number and signed us up for two eight day shifts. What a waste.  Recruiters had been great and brought in vendors from Eugene. Outside spots were quite reasonable at 25 dollars for both days.  But inside vendors had to pay over 100 for their spots. 

Marketing sucked big time!  I have never seen so many vendors so bored out of their minds.  I felt horrible for all of those who had less profit than what they had spent – which looked to be the majority.  So many of the sales made were from other vendors.  I felt bad from those who had made the drive from Eugene as I heard they would have fared better if they had just stayed in Eugene.

Richard has a book called “Your Marketing Sucks” by Mark Stevens.  It was written long before this Summer Mega Mart was put on, so I guess he wasn’t talking about Seven Feathers.  But I couldn’t help thinking of that title the entire time we sat in the parking lot throughout the atrociously hot day.  I think there had been at least 24 tents set up in the parking lot on Friday.  When we returned Saturday morning there were only seventeen left.  Throughout the day that number dwindled as vendors packed up and moved out. 

We decided to pack up at 5:00.  We had only made one sale on Friday.  Nothing on Saturday.  Few people stopped to browse – but mostly guests of the hotel that might have room for small trinkets, but nothing big.  The summer mega mart was a flop in my opinion.  And this heat has made me so tired and grouchy.  But at least we did have a breeze.  Sometimes too powerful of a breeze.  Friday’s breeze was cool.  Saturday’s was less powerful and warm.

I don’t ever want to do that again.  I guess if it’s better advertised.  My guess is they have lost business with most of the vendors that were there. It's not like they have an incentive to come back.  I would suspect most people lost money. 

While Driving

 

          Whenever I go to the Medford Temple (located in Central Point Oregon about an hour and ten minutes away) I have so many thoughts enter my head on the drive there.  Yesterday I had at least four blogging ideas.  All vanished on the return home.  What’s up with that?

          I think one was a reference to policy change – which I am certain I have already mentioned but thought I’d look it up and add to it.  No.  Not now anyway.

          A couple were in reference to my mission.  The area where I currently live reminds me so much of my first area when I served my mission.  Though not as cold.  Never as cold.  Perhaps on the coast.  But the wind still does not go through you as it did in Giles county.

          I remember being in the bishops office and gazing at a board full of names.  There was a column of active members, a column for inactive members, and a column of the unknown.

          “How could they be unknown?” I thought. But I get it now.  Rural addresses aren’t always discovered.  Some are downright eerie.  Do people really live at some of the provided addresses? Or sometimes there isn’t even a physical address – just a PO Box or city.  Invalid phone number. 

          Perhaps I will go into more detail later on.  Don’t hold your breath though.

Lisinopril side effects

           An eight month cough is outrageous.  I had believed it was allergy related and looked at external possibilities – it never dawned on me that it might be something internal.

          I had a friend tell me that she had been coughing for six months straight until her doctor took her off Metformin.  That didn’t make sense to me.  I’ve been taking Metformin for over two years now.  Why would it all the sudden cause me to cough.  Perhaps she provided the wrong drug.  Lisinopril is the cause.  It not only made me cough but had made Richard cough as well.  I forgot that he had dealt with his own episode – though I do remember him coughing – I still hadn’t made the connection.  He had been on Lisinopril before I started taking Metformin.  Now neither one of us are taking Lisinopril.

          I don’t know how high the statistics are for those who need to be taken off Lisinopril due to a cough.  Apparently there are some pharmacists who give a warning.  I don’t remember if mine did or not.  If so, it obviously didn’t connect.  But if it is really that common of an occurrence, why is the drug still on the market?  There have been some medications removed due to some individuals experiencing side effects.  Why not Lisinopril?

          I realize that not every drug works the same way for every individual.  There are side effects.  There are trade-offs.  I’m not trading a preventative for a cough.  There has to be another option.  As of now I won’t be taking anything until my cough completely disappears.

          Meanwhile I still have mostly a full bottle of the nasty Buckley’s syrup.  It did work.  But I’m not going to use it to chase a side effect when Lisinopril is the problem.  I wish I would have made a connection earlier or never taken it in the first place.  Live and learn.

          Hopefully if there are others who are taking the drug and experiencing the side effects that you will not have to go through this yourself and that this blog post will help you figure out that Lisinopril is NOT the direction you would like to go.

Remembering the Meeting

          I don’t know how long my brothers had power of attorney for my mom’s welfare when she had dementia. I don’t know if it was when she was still living at home or after we put her into assisted living.  I don’t know if I can find the exact date in my file or not.  I do remember all four of her children had gone downtown for a visitation with an attorney.

          There was concern about finances and how long we would be able to keep her in assisted living and if we could rely on state contribution in the future should the money run out – and just how long would we have before the state could/would assist.  It was a first visit for me and my sister.  I don’t know if my brothers had met with the attorney before in person or if things were done over the phone.  I don’t recall – though I’m certain my youngest brother remembers the details vividly.  He just seems to have an Hyperthymesia memory.

          I remember the session was scheduled for three hours.  Apparently they do that with family members leaving them time to squabble – which was never part of our circumstances.  We agreed upon things according to our faith, our values, and respect for not only our parents but each other as well.  We did not need the full three hours.  In fact, just after the attorney sat down and gave some council and asked if we had any questions before proceeding, I spoke up.  I said it was probably out of the ordinary but could we please start off with a word of prayer.

          That in itself made a huge difference.  The attorney was taken aback to our behavior and agreement.  Being the state executor had been hard on the one brother and asked if he could turn that over to the youngest who already had power of attorney but the attorney advised that the power of attorney and executor not be the same person.  But we were okay with it.  All four of us could sign whatever had to be signed.  The attorney said that in all his years of practice that he had only gotten through one other family as quickly as with ours.

          We put mom in a facility that we could afford.  I think they were understaffed and not so much individualized as other care facilities we had looked into.  But the staff did their best and we certainly don’t cast any blame.  Quite the contrary.  We are grateful to how things were handled.

          My youngest brother researched mom’s condition.  He said there were seven stages.  He said that he believed that mom was in stage five – which was actually a fun stage – which we chose to view it as. We thought mom would live in assisted living for many years – which was a big concern when we had met with the attorney.  But she was in assisted living for only nine months before she passed.  We did not have to see her go through stages 6 or 7 which we all considered a huge blessing.

          It’s quite an odd memory that I would think about.  I just had always wondered if there was a connection between Metformin and Dementia.  There were five individuals who lived on the same street – one had Alzheimers and the other four had another form of dementia. The four that had dementia all had diabetes – though I can’t  if all four took Metforim.  I know for certain that at least one did.  The one with Alzheimers lived the longest.  I don’t know if she was diabetic or not.

          It’s just something I often think about though I would like to let it go. But sometimes it haunts me.