The Attic

Hello, there! It's been a while!

Indeed.  More than a year, and for that I apologize.  It hasn't been the easiest year of my life, for many reasons, so thank you if you stuck around.  If not, I hope I can get you back.

The short version of my blog absence is that I spent the last year or so trying to learn to live on my own.  Lots of stories, but I'll save most for another time.  Good things happened along the way, some not so good, but mostly good.  There were a few health "bumps in the road", but all is well now.  Well, yeah, I need to lose a few pounds, but I'm working on it.

I am just getting my blogging feet wet, and trying to remember how this all works, but I promise I will try to be semi-regular with posting.  Right now, I'm getting ready to go off this weekend to a 3-day session at the Vagstuga Swedish Weaving School in Shelburne Falls, MA.  Yes, I succumbed to the siren call of weaving!  This will be a Band Weaving class....the idea was that I would take it in the spring to make bands for all those curtains and towels I was going to weave over the winter, after taking the Basics class last fall.  Yeah.  That didn't happen.  

Back soon!

I'm Okay

Thanks for all your kind words and expressions of sympathy.  I'm really doing alright, although I still have my moments!  But, during those last three weeks, when Terry was in the hospital, I daily crawled up onto the bed with him and, when we got through crying, he would tell me over and over that we would be alright, and that I would be alright.  I guess I have to be, no?!  I know he is.

I have had to stand on my own two feet, of course, in many areas that were once his domain.  Like paying bills, oy.  (FOUR checkbooks?  Are you serious, man?  I can barely manage ONE!)  Two cars and a truck?  And a lawn tractor, a log splitter and a small trailer?  Well, I suppose I can learn to drive the tractor....I'm not too bad at the cars and the truck!  I gave the log splitter to one of the sons.  I did feel particularly alone on the subject of the guns, I must admit.  The man had the opinion that it was much easier to clean them himself than to teach me to do it.  That's fair....I didn't think he could fill the dishwasher properly.  But, joking aside, there were so many things the man did around here that I will never be able to do myself that I really do worry about the house going to hell in a handbasket.

One thing that I'm very glad Terry introduced me to was shooting, and not for the reason you might expect.  Oh, yeah, being able to defend myself now that I'm alone, yada, yada, but the big surprise was the FAMILY I found at my local shooting club since Terry died.  I resumed shooting with the bullseye target team as soon as I got over the shakies, and those guys have been amazingly supportive.  The club in general has been incredible....from the president who now gives me a big hug every time he sees me, to the guys who have volunteered to field strip the Ruger Mark III for me (more importantly, put the danged thing back TOGETHER, something that strikes fear into many experienced shooters).  They've all been something I never expected from a bunch of guys.

I've gotten more involved in the club, too, in the past two months.  When a signup sheet went up in the Ready Room for an NRA Basic Instructor class in late January, I asked a few club officers if they thought I could do it (yes) and decided to sign up.  Hey, it was something to do on two Saturdays in February, and weekends are the worst around here.  I walked in to a class that consisted of fifteen guys, a male instructor (you're dead meat when you are the only woman in a class...they learn your name immediately!) and me.  Holy crap.  Getting up in front of that class was not easy, but I survived the first 8-hour session and went home to study, take the open book exams (there were two) and get ready for the second class.  The next Saturday, we were all buddies, I was one of the gang, and cannot tell you what a boost that all was to my confidence!  I even fired someone else's handgun (a Glock 17, 9mm) during the range portion (nailed the bullseye every time, whoohoo) and had a line of guys waiting to try my little Browning 1911-22 and the ten-shot .22 revolver that I brought from our safe.  How did I do on the exams?  100% (okay, there was a little "cooperation" during breaks) on both.  (The bag of chocolate chip cookies did not hurt.)  I left that class with a bunch of emails from my new friends...good feeling.

So what?  I took a class.  Well, it opens some doors for the future.  Once I get my actual certification from the NRA, I am then technically qualified to teach a beginner class.  I don't have any plans to do that on my own, but I do want to give back to the club and plan to offer to assist with the monthly pistol permit classes.  They are always looking for help, as many of the current teachers are older and have been at it for years.  New blood, as it were.  Also, as a certified instructor, I can then take more advanced classes, many available to order for home study.  The first one will be the Range Safety Officer course, a requirement at our club for becoming a Range Officer*.  In addition to successful completion of the NRA course, the club requires many hours of "apprenticeship" with a full Range Officer when the club is open....I got four+ hours under my belt this past Sunday.  Once I have the hours, I get a key, free membership, and access to the range beyond the regular hours.  And, again, get to give back to the club that has been so kind to me.

In contrast to the love and support I've found with a bunch of gun guys, there are some in the family (the "outlaws", as they are now known) who have not contacted me since the funeral.  Yeah.....

 

*A Range Officer is the "boss" when the range is open.  He (or she....I think I'll be the first female, when I get there) oversees safety on the firing line, the most important duty, gives safety checks to new people, and does have the authority to remove an unsafe shooter from the line.  But, much is administrative, like taking applications for pistol permit classes, turning on and off all the lights, exhaust fans, tallying up the money taken in for classes, targets, dues, etc.  Finally, there is a certain amount of janitorial work, although there is a cleaning service once a week.  Cleaning up that range after four hours of shooting is a big job!  

Brave (not so much) New Life

I just realized how many have been concerned about me and my husband....I've been away from blogging for a very long time!

The bad news is that the radiation treatments were not successful.  We returned home from that glorious time in NYC on Labor Day and were almost immediately back in the hospital for pneumonia!  That got me some help with treating the radiation burns (!) but otherwise sucked.  Soon after that?  A snowstorm in October and a ten-day power failure.  I swear, we were waiting for the locusts about then.

Life calmed down for a few days, then the poor guy developed crushing headaches and a sudden drooping of the side of his face.  (I mean, seriously?  Anything else you got for us, Lord?)  It went downhill from there, unfortunately, ending with a three-week stay in the hospital.  Terry (who never wanted me to use his name on the blog) passed away with the three kids and me at his bedside on December 15, at exactly 10:15 pm.

I've been trying to cope with the whole thing.....I was not as prepared as I thought I'd be, but you can't watch someone go through what that man went through (with very little complaining about some pretty nasty things) and not feel some relief.  He couldn't have gone on and I couldn't have handled much more.  We had moments of hope, but in the end it was discovered that the cancer had spread to his spine and probably his brain.  My big regret is that I couldn't bring him home to die.

I'm really okay.  I'd crawl up on the bed next to him every day and we'd cry, so I haven't felt the need too often to cry.  He told me repeatedly that I'd "be okay" or that we would "be okay", so I have to be okay!  I'm finding my way through the probate and estate stuff, and figuring out the financial stuff.  (Seriously, though, FOUR checkbooks?  I don't think so!)  I've got a good financial advisor to help me through that stuff, smart sons to help with other stuff, and lots of friends.  The guys at the range have been AMAZING.  Some in-laws and relatives?  Not so you'd notice.  

Oh, by the way.....just to keep busy I took an NRA Instructor course the last two weekends and will soon be (when the NRA gets around to processing the paperwork) a Certified Basic Pistol Instructor! I'm also working towards becoming a Range Officer at our local club.  Life goes on.

Hot Date

This is apparently the Old Man's idea of a hot night out on the town. Yes, we spent another lovely evening in the damn ER with another episode of aspiration pneumonia, and while he went to the hospital kicking and screaming, they let him go home because we got there early this time. We hope.

There is not enough Sauvignon Blanc in the world....

The Things You See in NYC

Some of the "best" (read: weirdest, funniest, most disturbing) things we saw in our time in New York were, unfortunately, things I couldn't photograph. Not without risking assault in any event. And we saw some sights, mostly involving clothing, that left us laughing and/or shaking our heads. Seriously? A filmy, strapless"maxi dress" for business attire? I'll keep my mouth shut on some of the full- body tattoos....

But occasionally we found some sights that could be photographed, even from a moving bus!  I love the idea of a mobile cupcake truck!  We never found this guy when we were on foot, though.  (We did walk by a cupcake store (there are such things) that sold teeny tiny beautifully decorated cupcakes.  $2 each, and barely two bites, but that's New York for you.  We stopped once on our way from the bus stop to the medical center....not worth $2.

I caught this shot one day when T was still pretty mobile and the Farmers' Market was set up in Union Square Park.  What gorgeous radishes....right in the middle of the city!

One of my favorite sights, though, was over on the corner of Fifth and W59th as we were waiting for the bus downtown.  Our son and his family were also in NYC that weekend and walked us over from the apartment.  There he was in all his scarlet glory:  ELMO!  Our grandson Gus was a little shy at first, but next thing we knew he was "high fiving" and finally up in Elmo's arms!

Don't see stuff like this in downtown Ridgefield.

L'etranger

Who ARE you and what have you done with my husband?!

Food

The Old Man always had a pretty hefty appetite, to put it mildly, but had a great deal of difficulty swallowing for some time after the tracheotomy surgery. They gave him a Passy-Muir "speaking" valve, which he didn't like and refused to use for many weeks. Once he was persuaded to use it, however, the appetite increased and he was able to eat quite normally until well into the radiation treatments.

We discovered this little place on Lex, between E 61st and E 62, while searching for a button shop I had read about. Pane e Vino, open to the world in front yet air conditioned inside, it became one of our favorite spots.

The treatments caused swelling and irritation, not to mention changes in the tastebuds, so by mid-August, the tube feedings took over. Today, for the first time in almost two months, the Old Man was able to get down some Cream of Wheat! Whoohoo!

Why They Need to Close Some Post Offices

Hubby mailed this last week, as he has been doing every week, to the church office. He never puts the street number on the envelope because, well, the office is right across the street from the church and the church is one block from Town Hall. This week it got returned for "insufficient address". They were "unable to forward".

Oh, did I mention the actual street address, which I looked up so I could resend it (and spend another 44c) is 55 Catoonah Street. Again, directly across from the church, but even more important, one half block from 29 Catoonah Street which is........wait for it, wait for it.............

Right. The street address of the POST OFFICE!!

They could have walked the thing over to St. Mary's in less time and for less money than it cost to return it to us. Way to go, USPS.

What I Did on my Summer Vacation

Okay, we have established that the stay in New York City, elegant digs notwithstanding, was hardly a vacation. I'll go into more detail on that stuff later. However, knowing that I'd probably have lots of time on my hands (much sleeping on T's part, little food preparation, etc) I brought my trusty old Featherweight sewing machine. And made a quilt top. It was one of those designs that use pre-cut 2.5" strips...fun and fast!

I'm still auditioning fabrics for borders and trying to decide who gets it.

Home Sweet Home

Instead of starting at the beginning (summer of 2010, really), I'm going to tell this tale backwards, starting with our New York Summer.  When we learned that they would treat T at Beth Israel in NYC, we were faced with some logistical dilemmas.  While we could have stayed at a wonderful hotel called Hope Lodge (run by the American Cancer Society, free to cancer patients), there were some issues.  Eight weeks in a hotel suite that allowed no food or beverages in the room....there was a shared kitchen on each floor....sounded like something that neither one of us could have tolerated longer than a week, no matter how gorgeous (decorated by Nate Birkus) or fun.  (The real issue, according to my husband was that I couldn't have my wine spritzer at the hotel.  Well, duh.) When a dear friend offered his luxurious Manhattan apartment, hubby was at first reluctant to take advantage, but two arguments won him over:  it made our friend feel "joy" (his words) that he could help, and it enabled someone not so fortunate to have that suite at Hope Lodge.  The photo above shows the building soaring up in the middle.  The one with the balconies.  Ours was the one next to the top, on the 33rd floor.  Yeah.

This is the view we had from the "conversation pit" (interiors in another post) or from the balcony.  That is the view up Central Park, and yes, that is the Metropolitan Museum of Art up there in the right corner of the Park.  Sadly, we never got there.  Priorities.  We never tired of the view, even the day they got over 6" of rain in Central Park.  I must say, we whimped out and went home for the hurricane, but otherwise, we had this blessing every day of our six-week stay in this magical place.

Here is another view, off to the west.  I loved the roof gardens on that white building down the block from us.  Other neighbors?  How about the Park Lane and Plaza across the street?  It was a half-block walk to Fifth Avenue, but I'm sorry to say I never got to spend any time there except as a passenger on the M2 Limited bus down to Union Square.  Damn.  In fact, my only shopping expedition, soon after we moved in (when I still felt comfortable leaving T alone) was over E 58th to Williams-Sonoma for some kitchen odds and ends.  But, that's not what we were there for!

We cannot ever thank our friend enough for this gift.