Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Oh how I love my dog, let me count the ways.

I've  been in a blue funk for awhile. It's not depression. I certainly am glad I don't have a problem with anxiety.

My problem is what do I do next and stop procrastinating. I made the mistake of saying I was going to have a yard sale to help my sister get rid of items she will not need at her house. That stops me from unloading at a thrift store. Somehow I have created more work for myself.

Tag sales are iffy affairs. I have rarely made money. When I moved from another house about 15 years ago, I remember selling a cherry bedroom set for $50. I don't know who was happier me or the people who bought it. Mind you, I have always been an animal lover. So everything I own gets signed in a very special unique way.  The bedroom suit had a few special touches compliments of a cat named Puff.

Anyway, I'm back in the race again. It's a losing race. I guess that is why they call it the human race.

My sister worked for the civil service before her stroke in October.  Her disability application is in limbo. I was supposed to hear from someone about the next stage two months ago. I've made the appropriate phone calls. I know about, You oughta raise hell. Except, bad behavior gives someone overworked a reason to do yours last.

She meets with a social security doctor in June. Before each hospital would admit her, they all asked the same question. Would I take her home with me when her treatment was over? I thought the question was curious. Now I understand the gravity. No one wanted to assume responsibility. She has had no income for about a year. Bad health caused her to miss a lot of work before the stroke.

Meanwhile, my sister is making big progress. She is confined to a wheelchair due to balance and spatial issues. I have been making her do items that it kills me to not help her. But I know she will not reacquire skills if I help. It's hard to accept she is never going to be her old self or capable in ways she was before. I would grieve more but exasperation with dealing with everything takes over.

Like all you who write and create, this sort of environment makes your brain work overtime thinking of ideas for all your WIPs and future works.  But I have created a writing system that may help me. Although I am a night owl. I have been waking up at 5 am. Instead of turning over and sleeping that one last hour, I quietly go to my desk and write. It is just an hour and half. But it is progress.

All those signatures made by my dogs and cats do not bother me. These are my dog assistants Louise and Bo Duke.

Friday, May 12, 2017

Oh Those Handicapped Parking Spaces

After this blog post, I will retire this theme.

I have handicapped placards and tags for handicapped family members. I park in the back of the lot when it is me and when getting my sister out in her wheelchair. With the wheelchair it doesn't matter if you are near or far. You just need space for the wheelchair to come close to the seat with the door wide open. Plus no one accidentally scratches your car when they don't park next to it.

I think many who deal with handicapped people get a stronger view of not using a handicapped space if you don't need it. My pet peeve is the person who backs into a handicapped space without the appropriate tag or placard. You can't help but wonder if they really need the space or are cheating the system.

In the end, it takes a pretty self centered person to park there when they don't need to. And that is a handicap too. Just not one that needs the parking space.

There is a stink in the paper where a young woman got a cruel note accusing her of not needing the space and she has a heart condition. I see both sides. I have seen people hop out of a car with a spring in their step after parking in a handicapped space. You have to wonder. But not all handicaps are visible.

But I have made observations about how people treat the handicapped.

The first one is that black people do a better job training their children. African Americans are quicker to assist my elderly mother. If you look at a black male, they will come and ask if you need help. They step aside at doorways and don't rush past your mother to get in quicker.

I have noticed people pretend to read posts or examine the coke machines as my mother slowly enters. This is where I know it is training. I have always done this. My parents did it. My mom never said, "Pretend to look at the wall of the building or stare in the parking lot until the slower person crosses the threshold". Much like no one was taught to make a quick shove to get by. And yes, I have seen the shove and steadied my mother. If I had had time and position, I would have stuck my foot out to trip them and have a little instant Karma.

I'm not one to believe in Karma. A young man in Hawaii did not want to ride my mother's handicapped scooter off a lift. I had my hands full getting her up a staircase. Mom was afraid of the lift. His dad told him to not play with handicap equipment, you may need to use it one day as a result. I agree with his dad that handicap equipment is not a toy. But being lazy using a handicapped space you don't need does affect your physical fitness. So, you might need it because you lose the ability to move.

I've had an elderly woman honking her horn at me to hurry up. I was parked in a handicapped space and was assisting my sister from the wheelchair into the car. I was not getting the wheelchair and my rump back in the car fast enough. She was tired of waiting. I had two other people who were handicapped that needed to return. But I backed up and parked in the back of the lot. When I walked into the store to check on the other two in my car, the same lady was standing talking to another older woman.

Like that phrase, "Nothing is as queer as folks."

Old but no handicap tag!

Sunday, May 7, 2017

To the start of a new blog year.

I had no business, no business at all doing the A to Z challenge. It is just I did not want to be left out. I wanted to go to the party. The party was a grand affair.

Putting your post in the comments worked well for me in that I stopped posting on the A to Z site when I got overloaded. Taxes stepped in this year. I spent the 17th and 18th getting taxes done. With that load off, I kicked off being responsible for awhile.

My dad cautioned me that life got more involved as you get older and he was right. And that is why I did A to Z. If I could squeeze it in, I was going to do it. I found some great blogs. People outdo themselves with their themes.

My blog's title speaks a lot of how I feel about the world. There is a limit of what you can do. We all have our ebbs and flows with blogging. I do understand when people stop. I stand in that doorway periodically. I'm at a crossroads where I need to make a plan with my blog so that it is more manageable.

This year's takeaway for me is that I need to make a firm decision of what I want to accomplish with my writing. I don't worry about all the blogs I visit. It's my break in a busy day. The big change for me is that I use a timer and what is not read within an hour is not going to be read.

Fender Bender in front of the local Huddle House