Confessions of a One-Track Mind

The presentation on service dogs went pretty well this morning, despite the fact that I overslept. Snoozed right through my alarm, woke, caught sight of the clock, thought it said 10:43 (Church starts at 11) screamed, virtually levitated out of bed, looked again, saw that it was actually "only" 10:13, and calmed down, but did not slow down.

I made it from bed to church in a scant 35 minutes, by virtue of knowing what I was going to wear and having it ready beforehand. (Zebra suit with cranberry red shell and shoes, shell and coral necklace.) I did not, however, have any notes, which made it challenging.

I'm told it was a good talk; I meant to discuss service dog etiquette, but didn't. Was going to differentiate between service dogs and theraphy dogs, didn't. I've run across several stories about service dogs in the news recently and touched on all of them, so it didn't go too terribly.

I'm taking a breather from my room; there's been a Hoarding: Buried Alive marathon most of the evening, and there but for the grace of God...saw a news story yesterday about a guy in California who lost it when city officials showed up on his doorstep. He shot one of them and held them off for a while before surrendering. Yikes. At times like this, I feel like a model of mental health (other times, I'm not so sure).

Got an email from GK that made me squee gleefully: She's got a new Nook Touch for me by way of some overpriveleged kid she knows who got it as a graduation present and didn't want it. Woohoo, he may not care for it, but I'm just thrilled! She says she'll get it registered for me and load a few books onto it. I suggested she scope out my Amazon wish list, which I should probably go update.

A pretty good day, all things condidered!

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Cleaning house has been a recurring topic of conversation lately. J, who sometimes makes me think they do things differently on her planet, advocates completely emptying each room and cleaning it from top to bottom before putting back whatever is going back. I think she's insane, and you can tell her I said so. Of course, the fact that she hasn't been inside my house in about 15 years means she has NO FRACKIN' CLUE what she's talking about. Because where am I supposed to put it all? That might work for someone with a huge house and not much stuff, but I have a modest-sized house and A LOT of stuff.

BigRed, who came by last year, or was it the year before? Fairly recently, anyway. She thinks lots of boxes are the answer. Boxes labeled for various rooms, and donations, and a great many trash bags. I think that many boxes would decimate whole rainforests. I've tried boxes; they pile up, you look for things, can't find them, things get shuffled around---no.

A little help, THAT would help. I'm always astonished when I watch Hoarders and the subjects have a bunch of friends and relatives comes out of the woodwork to help liberate them from their crap. I'm nowhere near that bad, but my friends stay away in droves. I *almost* wish I was bad enough to be on one of those shows. Almost. Because I'd be notorious forever after, and I'd really rather not be. A crew of a half-dozen people and a pro for three days, fine. Camera crew, not so much...I'm paranoid enough to worry about future employers seeing it, or worse yet, that lot next door. They don't need to know the layout of my place, or what I've got in here. And never does anybody else I haven't invited in.

Start small, counsels BigRed. The master bathroom is the smallest room in the house; I've been working in there. It feels frustratingly miniscule and futile. I have so many things I want to do, so many ideas, but there's SO MUCH to do before I can begin to implement any of it. And then what? I'll have a decent place to live, that's something. I just feel like it's all a million miles away.

Don't mind me. I'm just tired and discouraged.

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I don't usually watch the original CSI, but I saw the previews and tuned in for this week's ep...about hoarding. You know me, I did a talk on it for church, I *had* to see it. (Despite the fact that I've kind of gone off the reality shows on the subject.)

Given the nature of the show, I don't think I'm spoiling anything by saying there were bodies in the house. Shades of the Collyer brothers, although it was probably prompted by the news story a couple of months ago about Billie Jean James, an elderly woman who disappeared from her home. She had dementia, and her husband thought she'd wandered off.

Without her there to stop him, her husband brought in a cleaning crew, and after several weeks, they found the woman's body among the rubbish. As someone said in comments on the article, "In the middle of the summer? In the southwest? Can you imagine how much the place had to have stunk for no one to notice a decomposing body?" Either that, or the A/C was set to "meat locker".

Me, well, I got a couple boxes of stuff out for the church rummage sale---I coulda-woulda-shoulda gotten rid of more, but it's still progress, right?

Another thing I've occupied myself with is thinning out the stacks of 'zines occupying my bathrooms. A while back, I started a notebook with plans for the house...and more recently, I picked up a package of page protecters and have been going through said 'zines and gleaning pix of things that really resonate for me.

Number one on my hit parade is 30s-40s-50s kitchenware/housewares in general. A lot of baby blues and pinks, linens printed with almost cartoonish fruits and flowers, massed collectables (like Fiestaware or milk glass). I aspire to Fiestaware colors in general, with white, ala shabby chic. Just wait---I'm going to hit WalMart for spray paint and they'll think I'm tagging, but really, it's just four folding chairs, the dining table, the coffee table, a wrought-iron side table, etc.

I also have a "thing" for cozy little dining nooks. Given how small my dining room is, it definitely qualifies, and is one of the motives behind the folding chair plan. I'm very fond of shutters, although split rattan blinds would do in a pinch. Occasionally, my taste veers toward exotic---persian carpets, painted tiles, tansu chests....

There's also an offshoot that leans toward mid-century modern, but the minimalism necessary to showcase those elegant lines doesn't really jibe with my over-all ecclectic miscellany. Bark cloth for the win, though!


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After being up til OMG AM getting a cd burned so I could do a PowerPoint presentation with my talk, I got *maybe* four hours of sleep. Practically beat my snooze alarm to death for twenty minutes or so just tryinng to summon the get up and go to get up and go.

Realized I hadn't put together a reading. Couldn't find the quote I wanted to use. Found something else and printed it. Grabbed the craft supplies I needed for CUUPs. Dashed out the door at 10 til, got there in a state.

*takes deep breaths*

I was introduced to applause by AI. Got up and talked about how clutter and hoarding are hot topics at the moment, and what defines hoarding, the symptons, the levels of severity---all the technical stuff. Talked about the Collyer brothers (Check Wikipedia if you've never heard of the Collyers---they're fascinating.) at length, and the Japanese phenomenon of "lonely death" and concluded with a list of resources. Got more applause and a lengthy comments-from-the-audience ensued.

Everyone complimented me, which was gratifying. I was told that I speak well, that I have good delivery, and that I'm good at organizing my thoughts. To which my response is, I can always run my mouth, I got my delivery from watching old-fashioned sit-coms with laugh tracks, and hahahaha, me, organized? ONLY on paper!

CUUPs followed hospitality. Today we made brooms. I'll get pix later. I'll answer wmail later. Right now, it's thundering and excellent weather for a nap, which I could really use right now.

Thanks, everyone, for your good wishes---I'm sure they helped.

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I just finished burning the CD of my hoarding presentation for church and printing out the talky parts. To celebrate, here's a photo of the neatest spot in my house. (I kid you not. It's the only place where I've got all my ducks in a row. So to speak.)

I've been looking forward to this talk and dreading it and now I've gotten to the point of fatalism. Very Nietzsche. In less than 12 hours, it'll be done, one way or another.

I just hope I can get throughit without Losing It.

Think good thoughts, y'all.

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My original plan was to work on my dining room during Hoarders, but the Universe had other plans. How else do you explain the avalance of laundry/etc. from the top of my cedar chest this evening? Gravity? *sigh*

It's your basic waterfall front art deco chest, and the pile atop it was about up to my waist. Now that it's migrated south, it's halfway to my knees. I've filled two boxes with books, and laundry is ongoing. I'm going to have a whole bunch of new things to wear that have been submerged for several seasons.

I found several purses that were MIA, but the happiest find was in an overnight bag I clearly haven't used in a while, because I've been looking for it for ages: 'Ears', my Estonian alarm clock. It's a circular clock set into a ring of plush leopard print with pointy ears. It was a delightful gift several years ago from kukkurkurat, and it went missing after one of my house-sitting gigs. Things is, there were a couple within a few weeks, and I couldn't recall where I'd last seen Ears. I asked everyone I could think of, and was dreadfully guilty, because it's so cool and I felt so careless---this is such a relief! I've added a fresh battery and it's ticking away.

Today started awfully early...I'm probably going to meander off to bed soon.

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* Points to you if you get the reference.

Yesterday evening, I called Kat to touch base, and she said her car was messed up. She didn't want to drive it to the doctor's today because her neighbor told her she might get arrested. Her appointment was for 10 AM, which is kind of early if I was going to hit the food pantry and go pick her up, so I told her I'd pick her up early, we could go to the food pantry and then on to the oncologist.

A few words about this neighbor: I detest him. And his brat of a daughter, and their crazy landlady. The adults are always mooching on Kat for transportation---neither of them has a car---and they call her about eight times a day. The child trespasses and knocks over her plants and is a hellion in general. I got over there, and I'm damned if I can see what the problem is with the car. None of the lights are broken, and the one quarter panel that's a little rumpled was like that when she got the car. He's being a dumbass again. I'll be amazed if I get through house-sitting over there without us having words.

Anyway, I thought Kat was clear on the plan---I told her about four times last night and a couple more this morning, but no. She was surprised when we got to the food pantry and elected to stay in the car while I went in. That entails signing in and getting a number---mine was #188, and they were calling #120 when I got it. I took a seat to wait, and who should wander past but BC. He was munching is way through a huge cinnamon bun, and didn't want to put it down when his number was called, so he swapped with me. He was #140, which shortened my wait time by a good 15-20 minutes.

I'm starting to get the hang of how it works: If you pick a winning block out of the bucket, you get your choice of a premium item. Last week, it was turkeys. This week, I got my choice and snagged a t-bone steak. Winning means none of the regular protein items, although they added a can of tuna with the beggar's choice. Okay, works for me. Of the regular items up for grabs, I got generic canned pork, a bag of dried great northern beans, a can of pork and beans, a can of corn, a box of crackers, a box of mac and cheese and a bunch of baked goods (mostly english muffins). On the way out, we could pick regular or diet soda if we wanted (diet Dr. Pepper, best by July 16) and choose between blueberries or "surprise bag" of canned goods. I've never been a big fan of blueberries. I said "Surprise me" and ended up with cans of sliced potatoes, diced tomates and tomato sauce, all of which I'll actually use.

We were about an hour early for her appointment, but there must have been a lull, because they had Kat in and out in less than ten minutes. That part was easy enough. She's not doing well; she doesn't eat, and if she takes her meds on an empty stomach, she heaves. She gets dizzy when she stands up. She's getting daily visits from Hospice and Meals on Wheels several weekdays. Her memory is like cotton candy; you think it's substantial, but it just melts away. For instance, she keeps referring to Hospice as "the hospital"....

This trip is a big thing; her mom is 96, and this is probably the last time they'll see each other. GK has been planning things behind the scenes. I've been directed to go over there on Friday and make sure Kat's meds are packed, and for that matter, to be sure she's got clothes in her suitcase---we want to avoid a repeat of the Sarasota trip, where she had the clothes she wore on the drive over, the suit she had for the wedding, and nothing else. No change of clothes, no nightgown, no unmentionables, nothing. BC is getting permission to escort her through the airport and onto the plane and arranging to have someone monitor her so that she doesn't disembark during the layover in New Orleans, and when she gets to Dallas, someone will stay with her until she hooks up with GK who is flying in from MA.

Fresh ep of Hoarders tonight! Time to get back to work on the dining room. Mine needs work, but it doesn't call for a dumpster and a crew of twelve. Thank the Deity of your choice!