Here I go again...

Admit it, you just added to the title of this post and sang, "...on my own!"  (If you didn't, refer to: Whitesnake, '87.  You might need an 80's music education.)  

It's been nearly one hundred years since I've written anything.  And I do mean anything.  I'm not really sure what happened.

I wish I could say that nothing new has happened, but as my last post was written in June of 2021, and it's now the end of August 2024, I'd be lying to you.  The problem is, so much has happened I wouldn't really even know where to start.  I'm sitting here typing and trying to think of some highlights, so give me few seconds.

1...

2...

3...

Ok - that's enough seconds.

Girl child has had a few pieces of her artwork displayed at the Knoxville Museum of Art.  One of them even won best in the area for 11th grade in fine art!  To say she's amazing would be an understatement.  She still can't keep her room clean to save her life, but - though it pains me to admit it - she is my child.  She's just like I was at her age.  <sigh>

Boy child is now working as a welder.  He's connected with a boilermaker's union and is keeping steady work that he's good at and - I believe - he truly enjoys.  He just bought himself a truck a few weeks ago.  Let's just say that, due to his diligence, commitment, and hard work, he was able to walk away without a payment.

If you've followed any of my previous posts, we now have three, yes three, cats.  My ADD Brain says, "OH!  Now is a great time to tell your dear readers all about your cats and introduce Archie!"  My Rational Brain (and she doesn't show up very often these days) says, "Nope.  You started writing again.  Continue writing, dammit.  You can introduce the cats in another post."  So, as much as I want to tell you all about the fur kids, I'll take the advice of my rational brain.

Hubby is still a massage therapist.  I don't know what else to say there.  Wow - how sad is that?

I'm still working full time.  My health is...weird?  My MS diagnosis back in 2021 threw me off track.  I can't say I'm getting back on track, but I've assimilated and acclimated to the new situation.  I'm tired all the time so have little energy to do much after I've gotten off of work, I still have muscle weakness in my right leg and vague numbness in my right arm and occasionally on my cheekbone, but I'll take that any day over the complete numbness of yesteryear.  But - health issues aside - I'm OK.  I think.

Actually, it occurs to me that I don't think I ever really told you what happened that led to my MS diagnosis.  I even checked my last post to make sure, but nope - no story.

April 2021: 

I woke up at "stupid o'clock" one morning to discover my right leg didn't want to support my weight.  I had gotten up to use the bathroom and it was probably 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning, so my first and immediate, sleep muddled thought was, "Oh, my leg's asleep.  That's OK, I can make it to the bathroom and it'll be fine."  When I woke up the next morning, my leg was still dead.  For all intents and purposes, anyway.  But, what did I do?  I took a shower, got dressed, and drove my dumb ass to work!

I was so focused on my leg, and paying attention to how to walk so I didn't kill myself, it took a while to realize that not only was my leg completely and totally numb (literally zero feeling), so was the entire right side of my body.  It was like someone took a sharpie and drew a line down the middle of my body and said, "Right side?  No more sensations for you!"

My boss at the time was a registered nurse.  He wasn't practicing, but he kept up his license so he was, legitimately, a healthcare professional.  He came into my office at some point that morning, gave me a quizzical look, and said, "OK - what's wrong with you?  You seem...off."  So I told him what was going on with me. (Tangent: one thing you need to know here is that the place where I work has a medical clinic on site.)  He said, "Medical! Right now!"

I told him I was fine, that it was probably just a pinched nerve or something and that it would eventually go away.  He said (and I'm paraphrasing), "You go on your own, or I will haul you there myself."  (This was said out of concern, not malice.)

So, I took myself to medical.  After many tests, they decided to send me to the hospital for a CT scan.  The CT scan indicated Multiple Sclerosis (MS), but my doctor wanted to confirm it and sent me for an MRI.  The MRI confirmed it and my doc then referred me to an excellent neurologist who took me on immediately.  In fact, the neuro's office called me to say that the doc I was to see was on vacation, but she wanted to see me immediately and could I come tomorrow?  She was going to come in, on her day off, to see me personally.  When I saw her, she confirmed - definitely - the MS diagnosis.  We looked at the MRI images and she pointed out the large, bright white, "lesion" on my brain that was clearly causing my issues.  She also pointed out several dark spots that she said indicate I've had for a while and it just went undiagnosed.  Thinking back, I can come up with at least one instance that - if I had investigated further - might have gotten me a diagnosis much sooner.

When I say my right side was numb, I mean that literally.  During all the testing, I got stuck with so many needles it wasn't even funny - and I didn't feel a single one.  They would say, "Which arm do you want me to use?"  Really?  Just stick it anywhere on the right side of my body.  It doesn't matter.  I won't feel it.  They could literally have stuck the needle in my temple and it wouldn't have mattered.

I dealt with the numbness, the initial heavy doses of steroids, the weakness and all the things that happened as my body started to return to what would eventually pass for normal.  There were times when my right knee felt like it was the size of a watermelon.  It wasn't.  Times when the upper part of my leg felt like someone had dipped it into a vat of acid.  It was not, in fact, bubbling with blisters or on fire.  I was not cold, nor was I roasting to death.  All of these things were directly related to my nerves and broken brain.

As I said earlier, I still deal with weakness and numbness, but the biggest issue I deal with these days is my balance.  Which wasn't great in the first place.  Now I walk down a perfectly straight corridor, with perfectly a perfectly flat surface, and weave around like a drunkard.  Stairs are fun.  Thank goodness someone invented railings.  And I find myself wishing there were handicapped rails in every single restroom on the planet.

So that's basically it.  For now.  

Maybe I'll talk about my cats next time.  That's a far more fun topic.

TTFN

JMS

Update

October 18, 2018 to June 24, 2020.  That's how long it's been since I last posted to this blog.  Not sure why except maybe there just seems to be too much to say.  Or, not enough.

Quick update - Kiddo is now 16 and driving.  Little Bit is now 13 and thinks she knows all.  We're all in strange times due to this Covid-19 virus and the quarantines.  Hubby hasn't been able to work at all, which is a huge stressor, but I'm grateful to be able to work at home.  I'm working from home most days but am allowed to go into the office one day a week and more if absolutely necessary.  I've been tested for Covid-19 twice, both times with a negative result.  I actually do have a story about that, but maybe for another time.

Booker the Wonder Kitty and Wendy Lou the Tiny Furry Dictator are both still around, of course.  They're a source of constant amusement, weirdness, and joy.  Fuzz Therapy is highly recommended.

I'm still a puppeteer.  If you haven't checked out the videos, find us on Facebook at Hands in Service at Kern or on YouTube at H.I.S. Puppeteers.  Make sure to like and share the videos, and subscribe to the channel!  We're hoping for 100 subscribers!  I guess that's kind of funny when you consider there are YouTube channels out there with thousands...MILLIONS...of subscribers, but we're not in it for the money.  Just the fun.

Anyway - that's it.  That's nearly 2 years worth of updates.  I haven't drawn anything in forever.  I haven't really written anything in forever.  Who knows if I ever will again, but for now I'm not feeling the call to do either - this post not withstanding.  So stay safe.  Stay strong.  Stay healthy.

TTFN
JMS

Busy, much?

So, I guess I officially suck at blogging.

But you know what? I don't really care. I still love it, and will blog when I can, but I guess I don't feel like I NEED to have an update every day, every week, or even every month. I can't force it, right?

***

I've been busy, too. Kinda keeping a few things under my hat for now, but I've been drawing again. Well, doodling, really. But the doodling morphed from small doodles (like the one at the left) to bigger ones, to stuff people might actually call "ART" on some occasions. This, in turn, has also morphed into some actual pen/ink/colored-pencil drawing. Again, I'm going to keep some of it to myself for now, but in the meantime, what I can tell you is that my ETSY store is open again! (There's a link on the right under the heading of "My Hobbies" - in case you're interested.)

The doodling (especially) and drawing has been fun and, more than I ever could have anticipated or imagined, has been amazingly soothing for me. So, though my thumb feels like someone has poured cement into the joints and the writing callus on my middle finger is slightly sore and definitely more pronounced, I'm creating something tangible again. Not just writing creepy micro-fiction, though I haven't let that go, either. Hey - you love what you love, right?

***

In other news:

• The month of March brought my kids each another year. Boy-child is now 14 and Girl-child is now 11. Please, pray for me. Mostly they're great kids, but every now and then I wonder, "It's wrong to kill my kids, isn't it?" Parenting is most DEFINITELY NOT for the faint of heart.
• I had dental issues. Well, one tooth in particular decided it didn't want or need to be in my mouth any more and tried to commit suicide. It was especially horrifying for me because I'm legitimately terrified of the dentist. I was quite proud of myself for handling the dental visit and subsequent oral surgery to remove the tooth without winding up in a padded room. I still have the dental implant process and eventual crown to look forward to (ha ha) but at least, at this point, I know I can handle it. I don't have to like something to be able to deal with it, do I?
• The Puppet Ministry I'm part of at our church is beginning to branch out. It is something else I truly love and, though the work isn't easy, it's fun. We now have a YouTube channel at H.I.S. Puppeteers, so check it out! Make sure to subscribe and ring the bell so you'll know when we upload a new video. Also, we've started taking the show on the road (Have puppets; will travel!) and so far, we have two shows in April on the same weekend, one in May, and an entire week booked at a Christian camp in Indiana in June! 

So, the humans at Chez Shell are fine, the felines are fat and happy and spoiled, and (as applicable) school and work are all going well. We are all truly looking forward to warmer weather so we can spend some time outside. The kids want to build a Bird Garden in the backyard, so we're collecting bird feeders and houses right now, and, once things smooth out weather-wise, I'll dig in with them and help because it sounds like such a neat idea and will be fun to do something like that with them.

I guess that's it!

TTFN
JMS

Kids vs. Cats

As I was walking through my house the other day, going about my chores, I made almost unconscious, idle conversation with the cats - neither of whom were near at the time - telling them what I was doing as I did it.  Of course, it occurred to me, as I stuffed another load in the washing machine, how silly it was. The cats don't care what I'm doing; not really. Yeah, they're nosey little buggers, but truthfully, unless it involves food, they would much rather sit in a sunny window and doze.

Further, I thought, when having such conversations with one's cats, how similar they sometimes are to conversations one may have with babies and toddlers. I remember keeping up a running commentary about everything I was doing when my babies were little, which might account for why they talk so much now; not that I mind.

Once I'd made the connection, it stood out every time I said something aloud to the four-legged fur-creatures. I found myself saying things to them that I would and, I'm sure, did say to my kids.

Why are you sticky?

Don't eat that!

Don't climb on that! 

Get down!

No, that's my food. You eat your own food.

Why are you wet?

Where have you been?

What have you been getting into?

Why is it so quiet?

Ugh, what is that smell?

Which one of you made this mess?

Ok, who puked?

Someone needs a bath!

The list, I'm sure, could go on. But every time I said something to the cats, I further realized...maybe I didn't really want to know the answer.

TTFN
JMS

Wild Things

If you have anyone else living in your home (doesn't matter who) have you ever felt like you're constantly stepping on, stepping over, stepping around or picking up stuff that doesn't belong wherever it is? (Usually on the floor.)

I had a rough night last night. I watched the time on the clock slowly creep toward midnight and was still mentally wired. I had a zillion things zinging around inside my skull so it was impossible to settle. As my brain played pinball, (TILT!) I fussed at things, picked stuff up, looked through a file for something I was trying to find, did laundry, fixed the dishwasher, took the trash out (twice), made sure everything I could recycle was in the recycle bin, scooped the litter box, and generally buzzed around (another analogy) like a fly caught in a Mason jar.

Eventually, I gravitated toward the bedroom realizing that the clock had gone well past midnight and was closing solidly in on 2:30AM. Physically, I was exhausted. Mentally, I was wired. Those two things don't make for restful sleep. Further, both fur kids decided it was time to seek revenge for earlier in the day when I played Alpha Female and captured them to clip nails and apply their monthly flea meds. There was much roaring of terrible roars, gnashing of terrible teeth, rolling of terrible eyes, and showing of terrible claws. (Usually directed at my feet under the covers.) Thanks, Maurice Sendak.

Needless to say, I'm not myself today. I'm tired, my head feels fuzzy, and I can't concentrate very well. Thank goodness for being busy or I'd be taking a nap under my desk. I'm expecting a busy night tonight, as well. Maybe I'll be able to get in bed before 10PM?

Wish me luck!

TTFN
JMS

Tidbits

Yesterday, Co-worker came to my office to talk to Boss. Boss told Co-Worker to wait a minute, he was finishing something up. Co-Worker paced in front of my desk...waiting, expectantly.

Me: Did Boss make you wait?

Co-Worker: Yes, he had to give birth to a thought.

****

Girl-child grounded the cat. Why? Because Wendy (cat, a.k.a. "The Tiny Furry Dictator") has a habit of using her paw to snag a piece of fabric - crocheted blanket, a sweater, a towel - use said paw to bring fabric to her mouth, and then will spend minutes on end simply licking the fabric. It's akin to thumb-sucking in children, I think. Anyway - Wendy had been licking a crocheted blanket for almost 10 minutes and Girl-child had had it. She said, "That's it! Wendy! Enough! You're grounded!" then went over, picked the little fuzzball up, and relocated her to another part of the house.

It didn't work. As a friend said, "Grounding a cat is like trying to give a cat a Time Out" - which, of course, wouldn't work, either.

Still, it was amusing.

****

At work, trying desperately to attach a required form to a foreign trip request for a co-worker. Form. Will. Not. Attach. Three separate people tried and failed, including me. Finally, I hollered at Boss. "Boss! Would you come out here for a minute please?"

I explain the situation. Boss says, "Make the document into a PDF and try again."

Which, of course, worked like a charm. Now I feel like an idiot.

And...another clear reason why Boss is the Boss.

****

Last night, Girl-child had gotten ready for bed. I'd just finished showering so I had a towel on my head. It was late. Girl-child really should have already been in bed, but instead, she was in my room fussing over the fur babies. I took the towel off my head and intended to give her a light smack on the backside with it, but - not considering that Wet Towel = Heavy Towel = Doesn't Work Like a Dry Towel managed to actually snap the towel at Girl-child's backside. **POP!**

It hurt. She cried. I felt so awful because I truly didn't mean it to snap her like that. But then we both looked at each other and began to laugh like loons. She said, "Mom, I know you didn't mean to do that and I forgive you. I love you SO much!" I think I kinda love her, too. Goober.

****

TTFN
JMS

PS: A little levity today was necessary. I'm an emotional wreck so I'm trying to make myself (and maybe you, too?) feel better. Did it help?

Booker T. & The Tiny Furry Dictator

Boo, in all his glory

You guys remember Booker T. Jet Black Alley Cat, right?  Well, Boo (his affectionate nickname) has become a wonderful member of our family.  He's fat and happy and such a love bug!

Still not going into details about all the "Everything" that's been going on lately (not there yet, emotionally) you already know we've got Gammy's cat, Wendy, and are trying diligently to integrate her into our household.

First nose-to-nose

There have been some mild bouts of Kitty Fisticuffs between the two, but there really haven't been any major issues.  Like I said before, Booker seems pretty chill about having Wendy around.  He's interested.  He likes to know where she is and sometimes wanders the hallway crying until she comes to investigate why he's being vocally obnoxious.  Fisticuffs ensue.  Wendy, on the other hand, has now been dubbed The Tiny Furry Dictator.  Boy Child calls her "The Instigator" - which is also correct.  She starts "it" every time.  Boo isn't sure whether he's coming or going, but when she's hiding, he looks for her.

Last night at 10:30 the two of them spent quite a while chasing each other up and down our back hallway.  Thumpa-thumpa-thumpa!  She's 8 lbs.  He's 20 lbs.  They're like a herd of elephants!  Any parent of multiple cats (#joysofcatparenthood) understands what this sounds like.  And most of the time, any parent of multiple cats can tune out the running back and forth and general sounds of play.  Even mild Kitty Fisticuffs.  But when the fisticuffs become a full on screamer of a fight, it wakes everyone up in a hurry!  Yeah - that happened.  Poor Boy Child got genuinely freaked out, never having heard a legitimate scream from a cat before.  It is, admittedly, a bit terrifying, even if you know what it is!  Girl Child slept through it.  (And before you ask, yes, I checked them over.  No one got hurt.)

The Tiny Furry Dictator with her favorite minion, Girl Child

So, while I'm absolutely thrilled to be a multiple cat household (I've dreamt of this day for a long time!) I'm not enjoying being a referee to two furry toddlers who cannot share a toy.

He eats her food. She smacks him and sends him running down the hall.  He hides.  She finds him.  He chases her back down the hall the other way.  She runs and hides under my bed, where he can't reach her because he's really too big.  He sits in the hallway and cries and makes concerned sounds until she comes out from under the bed.  Then they both sit and stare at each other for a while until one of them decides they just have to move.  Then the chasing starts again.

She uses his litterbox and I am sure she does it because she knows he's too big to fit into hers.  It's a small win for female kitty kind everywhere, right?

Spoiled Fur Child

She has a pink pillow on Girl Child's bed that we call the Royal Throne because it is from this vantage point which she watches the goings on.  Near litterbox and food.  Defending her territory.

Boo is spoiled so I think he's probably feels like we've added an interloper into his domain (which we have) and probably feels mildly threatened.  Except, being of such a non-violent nature, he's not sure what to do when The Tiny Furry Dictator lays down the law.  Usually he can't figure out what he's done and comes to me to cry and snuggle.  Goober.

Anyway, it's been (and will continue to be) an adventure.  I know that it can take a LONG time for cats to truly accept each other, but I'd forgotten about the struggles in the meantime.  I have no doubt they'll get there, but for now, please wish me (and my family) hours of uninterrupted sleep.

TTFN
JMS

Catching up with Tangent

Wait!  What?  I haven't posted anything since MAY?  You're kidding, right?

Um...apparently not.

There's just been SO MUCH happening and I haven't felt like writing.  I still don't feel like writing.  And, quite frankly, you won't really want to hear anything I have to say anyway.

Booker T. Jet Black Alley Cat (affectionately "Boo" for short) is awesome and has become a real member of the family.  His Glorious Fuzziness is such a wonderful addition and so much fun.  He is friends to adults and kids alike.  But he is my special buddy.

Recently, we added (maybe temporarily, maybe permanently) Gammy's cat, Wendy.  Without going into detail about the whys and wherefores, we are still in the Kitty Integration Phase.  There are twice-daily supervised visits between them and we're still dealing with the hissy-pissy, grumble and groan phase of things.  Once all the vocal whining stops - and they stop taking half-hearted swipes at each other - we'll let her out of quarantine.  She's a little instigator.  Boo is kind of chill about the whole thing and, truth be told, probably kinda likes her.  He's at least interested.  Unless he's pretending to be disinterested.  It's been a journey.

There's so much other stuff, but I have decided to keep this light.  Once I have the emotional capacity to delve deeper, I'll share.  But not right now.

Stay tuned?

TTFN
JMS

PS: Sorry for the hiatus.  I've missed you guys!

So...this happened.

I've already posted this on Facebook, so I'm sure that most of you already know about our new furry family member.  Introducing Booker T. Alley Cat.  Jet Black Alley Cat, that is. 

Fun Facts:

1) We adopted him on Friday the 13th.  What better time (in my opinion) to adopt a black cat?

2) He's 15.5 pounds.  The shelter folks said he was probably about 17 pounds, but then I weighed him.  Well, I weighed myself and then hefted the cat and did the math.  He's 15.5 pounds.

3) He's solid black.  Ok, so he's got a few white hairs on his belly (like 7 of them) and has a few white strays salted (ha ha) throughout his pepper.  But he's definitely a black cat.

4) He loves head bumps.  I love his head bumps.  This is how he says, "I love you!"

5) Did I mention he's huge?  We got a window seat thingy for him really, it's probably too small for him.  If he stretches while he's on it, he extends significantly on both sides.

6) He's great with the kiddos and the kiddos are great with him.  I'll see a kid walk by the bedroom door and a second later I'll see the cat following the kid, close on his or her heels.

7) He no longer has to live in a too-small cage eating next to his litter box and getting no love at all.

8) Part of his name (Jet Black Alley Cat) is for our nephew Zach's band of the same name.  They're awesome!  (Go to YouTube and search Jet Black Alley Cat - then listen carefully and share extensively!)

We're all very excited!

That is all.

You may now return to your regularly-scheduled...uh...whatever-it-is-you-were-doing-before-you-found-this-post.

TTFN
JMS