Life Moves Fast!

I can't believe it's been nearly a year since I posted last. The depression thing is pretty much taken care of thanks to modern medicine. I've decided it is pain based, not surgery based. The continuing pain in my feet has been a true downer. I keep looking to the bright side - at least I can walk. Of course this is in temporary cast-like boots. Oh well, all will turn out ok.

Speaking of ok - my daughter was married April 27th to a very nice and patient young man from Venezuela. He is great. From the look on Jenny's face as she walked down the aisle, she knew what she was getting into and it was for life - confident, happy, wonderful.

Just as great, maybe even better, they are moving to Boise - YIPPEE! I've missed Jenny so much. I do have my niece, her boyfriend, and their wonderful daughter to fill the family void. Of course, I also talk to Jenny almost every day. It's funny as you grow older and look at your little girl who is now all grown up, you just want to hold her like when she was little, on your lap, and cover her with kisses. Jenny has also got a new job. She is successful, happy, and going down a very right path. I do take some credit for this. But her strong personality has seen her through many a difficult time. I hope it's smooth sailing for her now with more happiness than she has ever experienced. She deserves it. Her new husband, Eric, will help her reach this. Congratulations Jenny and Eric!

Sometimes...

As I am currently suffering from post-surgery depression, I'm having a little difficulty getting through the day without crying. In fact, as I write this posting tears are streaming down my face. It's a strange feeling particularly as I consider myself to be a strong person in control of my emotions. Well, that's all gone to hell. I've found that the crying jags have triggers. Talking or thinking about anything regarding past or upcoming surgeries are the strongest. Although talking to anyone in the medical profession (doctor, nurse, or pharmacist) can also trigger the tears. If someone asks me how I'm doing, a lump starts to form in my throat. If my "I'm OK" suffices and no further probbing persists, the lump goes down. If not, Niagara Falls. It's embarassing and totally out of character. I've said to some family members who have watched the manifestation with a look of shock on their face, "I don't know why I'm crying." So how can I get past all this? I guess I'll look for the silver lining - the nice things in my life and, of course, share my experience with people I don't know by posting it on my blogger. Mostly, I think of the people who care about me, my family and friends. This gets me through a lot. It also turns on the water fountain again but my keyboard is already soggy. I think it's easy to wallow in the bad things that happen to us and pass over the good. The bad seem to leave such a strong impression on our brains. The good stuff seems to be more fleeting but in actuality, it comes in greater numbers - laughing with family or friends is always a good moment although it isn't as memorable as the death of a loved one. I also consider a day without anything bad happening to be a good day, even though nothing much happens. "A day without bad is a day of sunshine." Well, maybe. I look at the lives of people less fortunate than myself and realize things could be worse, just as someone probably looks at mine and says "Wow, I'm glad that's not me." My brain also tells my emotions that this is temporary and will pass. Sometimes my emotions listen, sometimes not. As I'm writing this blog, the song lyric "Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breath and to love you" keeps running through my head. I know, this is really directed to a significant other, but I figure if you have anyone in your life that loves you, it works. Knowing this will see me through, as it has in the past. How sad for those who have no one and how lost they must feel.

I-80 East

Here is the long-awaited rendition of Jenny and my trip across the country - well not the whole country but a good portion of it. We traveled from Idaho Falls to New York City to take Jenny's new-used car to where she lives. On the way, to keep things interesting and body parts moving, we stopped at any oddity we could find. We also visited with friends along the way.

The main road used was I-80. Through research on the Roadside America website, I discovered several oddities in the states we would be passing through. Jenny and I then went about mapping the oddities we were interested in along our route, most of them anyway. We were running out of time so we got the mapping done through Illinois. We took the rest of the listings with us and figured them out along the way. I also purchased the "Roadside America" book so we could look up places, if needed.

We didn't leave until late in the afternoon on August 23rd, 2005. Jenny kept telling everyone to come join us for dinner in Jackson, WY, as that was probably all the farther we would get. That was her way of saying I was slowing us down – funny Jenny. We made it all the way to Rawlins, WY, on the first day. Our first oddity, which I call the "Stoplight at Nowhere," occurred on the drive. In a little town called Bondurant, (or so we assumed from our map – there was no sign) on State Highway 189, there was a stoplight. This wasn't an ordinary stoplight. This was a big yellow stoplight on a pole to the left of the road. It was the kind with red, yellow, and green lights. It reminded me of the kind that came with the older Fisher Price set with the cars and garage sold around 1985. There was no cross street and, from our vantage point, no real reason to stop. One or two other cars had stopped in front of us, which blocked our view. Just seeing another car was somewhat of a surprise because we hadn't seen any for some time, coming towards us or in front of us. We figured they had probably been there awhile. To the left was a small restaurant and possibly some lodging, to the right a big open grassy area. We stayed there for about 20 minutes. We thought about getting out and taking a picture of the light or just seeing what was going on but it was raining so we didn't. We talked about how it may have been for nothing at all, just the "town's way" of getting people to stop at their restaurant. Eventually, a man in a little pickup truck came towards us (I assume – again, couldn't see much), and whipped around (this I did see and is how I knew it was a small pickup truck), now facing the same direction as us and the car ahead of us. Then, the light turned green. We followed the little truck through this area of the highway that was now a dirt road – construction. He took us to one side of the dirt, then the other. There was no one really working that we could see. I couldn't see any difference on either side of the road either. I think we were either being used to tramp down the dirt or the guy was just having fun playing follow the leader with us. I kept thinking that he had been sitting somewhere hidden seeing just how long we would wait in front of that light. Of course, on the other hand, he may have to do this all night – driving people back and forth over this little piece of highway. What a horrible job that would be. The rest of our trip is on my new Flickr page, which I'm proud to have finally got up and running (I think). Click on the link I have to the left or go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/jksurrusco/ and click on the I-80 East picture, then click on the same picture again on the right. This will start the show and allow you to read my sometimes cleaver comments at the bottom of each picture. To move forward through the pictures, click on the "next" word below the next picture in the group. Hopefully, Jenny will add some of her pictures and the whole trip will be there. As always, we had a great time!

Attack of the Rose Bush

I had sent the message below to a couple of friends and later decided it was blog worthy so I am posting it now. Also, relieves my self-imposed blog guilt (Definition - To create or respond or to delay creating or responding to blog data in such a manner as to cause one's self to feel uncomfortable).

I thought I'd share my adventure in gardening. I've always said that each summer, upon my exit from my house donned in garden gloves and with saw or prunners in hand, my neighbors would run to get their lawn chairs and popcorn in preparation for the inevitable show to follow. Well, I didn't disappoint.

I have a large rose bush in front of my house that must have had a wonderful display of 30-40 roses. The heat had since taken its toll and most of them had died. I decided it was time to prune the rose bush and clean off the dead roses. Things went well at first. Working from the front of the bush, the dead roses would fall into the bucket I was holding - perfect. As I was pruning the ones in the back, some of the roses would fall to the ground. "Well, no big deal," I thought. "I'll just pick those up later." It looked like an easy reach.

I finished with all the roses, with only a few minor scratches from the thorns. I was pretty proud of myself - no mishaps so far. I then reached down to collect the roses I had dropped. Well, I guess my hair had gotten caught on the thorns as I bent down. I really didn't notice. I then moved forward to reach the dropped dead roses in the back. I was oblivious to any problem beginning to form. I stepped back still hunched over and felt a tug on my hair. I then stood up as far as my now horribly tangled hair would allow and realized I was in deep doo-doo. I tried to remember what I had done to get so entangled but it didn't help, the more I tried, the more tangled I became. I was now "one with rose bush," my ass facing the street, my hair decorating the rose bush like tinsel on the Christmas tree.

I finally realized I had to relax, not that I had a lot of choice as the more I tried to get free, the more it hurt my head. I slowly began to pull sections of my hair through the thorns, some of which decorated the hair that came free, others which stood firm and claimed my hair as a prize. It seemed about an hour before I was able to stand up but was probably closer to 15 minutes. I'm okay, just a few more scratches to my arms, a little less hair, and a sore back from bending so long. Luckily, there were either no neighbors out or they had the decency to go back in their homes before I was able to turn around. It's probably my imagination, but as I stood up I thought I smelled a faint aroma of popcorn in the air.

It's A Pity Party!

Everytime I turn around, I seem to pick up some wicked bug that is affecting my throat - my weakest part. This has been going on for a month and a half. Today, I awoke to find I have laryngitis. I told myself "Self, that's it! It's time to throw a Pity Party."

A perfect Pity Party requires the proper attire. For instance, those attending the party must be wearing pajamas (for you wouldn't get dressed if you've got the right kind of pity going on). Your face should be unwashed - so no makeup or makeup from the night before; hair unkempt; teeth - well, if you are actually getting together, as opposed to cyberspace, teeth must be brushed. You know what, even in cyperspace you need to brush your teeth, I mean, let's not get gross. Each Pity Party participant must also bring his or her own tissues.

Food at a Pity Party is important, too. You can go the "P" route and do all foods beginning with a "P" like pop, pretzels, popcorn, popcicles; peach pie; etc. Or, as I prefer, you can hit the comfort foods like ice cream; chocolate; potato chips; cookies; cake; and candy. I prefer the latter as they are my comfort foods. A low fat pretzel just isn't going to cut it and rice cakes are banned. Also, alcohol isn't allowed at a Pity Party. The purpose of a Pity Party is to dumpt the Pity. If alcohol is added the pity will never end.

Now for the music. My daughter's favorite Pity Party tune is "One is the Loneliest Number." I like "All by Myself." There are many others and, if one should want to join a Pity Party or have one of their own, it is necessary to have or bring the proper music. Here are some suggestions:

"It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To"
"Alone Again, Naturally"
"Lonely"

So, if you want to join my Pity Party, you must bring your own tissues, a comfort food, a tune, and brush your teeth.

There - I feel better already!

Is it the Event?

Is it the event we like or what it takes to get there? We, as in the Halpin family, are preparing for my brother's birthday. He will be 52 which isn't one of the big ones but his daughter wanted to have a barbeque party for him. He's been a bit depressed since all of his children have moved out of his house and he's not doing so hot health wise. For those who know him, you know why. The family has been gathering the necessary equipment, preparing food, and double checking to make sure all is well. Also, we will be having it at my brother's house in his backyard so while part of the family did food preparation, part of the family cleaned chairs and tables, and part of the family (and friends) did hauling and set up the day before the big event. People visited each others houses, laughed and talked about how hot it was, how tired they were, and how much they worked (except for Grandma where it more like a complaint). There is someone missing from this formula that would have made it oh so much better, but she called and was part of the prep work.

The day is here, today, March 29th and it is very possible that, while yesterday was total sunshine, today thunderstorms are looming on the horizon as predicted by them (the unknown weatherman that we blame for this sort of thing). I was a little depressed at the possibility that all the plans would be ruined and then I thought of how much fun I had yesterday working along side my sister, two nieces, my nephew and friend, my brother-in-law, and my mom. Today is the eating part where we reap the reward for our work. Even if it may be a bit soggy or have to be moved inside, the fun is in the making and the enjoyment of each other's company. Jenny, wish you were here.

I'm Here

I've created my own blogger not because I have important things to say, but to reach someone else's blogger more easily. I may post my own incoherent ramblings but doubt they will be read by anyone. Therefore, this will become just another form of talking to myself, something I have done all my life. If someone should read these scribblings, do not judge. Sometimes the mind wanders and the fingers follow. Welcome to my Blog. - Janet