Quiet, very quiet.

This magnificent 1864 hand colored map of the ...

Today the sun came out, after days and days of dreariness and one full day of rain. I can’t complain: people in other parts of the country are really experiencing wild weather in comparison to my mild discomfort here in New England.

I’m right at the border between northern and southern New England ~ right in that little bump that sticks up into New Hampshire, along its south–eastern border. Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont are considered northern New England. Most of Massachusetts, all of Connecticut and Rhode Island are considered southern New England. But there is some question of us, here in the little bump along the north-eastern border of Massachusetts.

It seems there is no pleasing me. I abhor the heat and humidity of Summer – and while I don’t really complain too much about rainy days in Spring and Fall, they really are do-nothing days for me. I tend to sleep most of a rainy morning away. When I do get up, breakfast becomes lunch, and morning meds are about five hours later than they might have been had I been rising to get ready for work. I  spend an hour or so checking various emails, blogs, posts, and if I’m lucky, reading reviews of my book-in-progress at FanStory.com.  And then I update one of my blogs, or read someone’s book so that I will be able to review it by the end of the week.  Winter is my preferred season. I think I was meant to live in Canada, along the eastern shore.

Rick and I have begun a new blog for our Wooden Toy and Gift business. Between the two of us, we are able to stumble through most of the jargon to begin a new online adventure like a blog, but we make many mistakes and have to go back over and over again to fix them because we forget to say “save.” It is all ‘new’ learning for me (which means, truly, it is not learned and I have to find my way again each time, unless I remember to write down passwords, and then remember where I wrote them. I’m just now learning to use Sticky Notes on my computer screen to keep track of things. But often I forget that I kept them there, and so start over again. We are inviting Facebook friends and family to sign on to our blog as Following us.  It’s part of our ‘mind-mapping’ group initiative. So far, we have one friend showing up in the statistics. Slow going. If you ‘d like to see our work, or join us there, please visit http://wtandgnews.blogspot.com.

It was nice enough to walk today, but we didn’t go outside. The temperature was just above 75, and that is my top limit for comfort. Tomorrow is going to be cooler, and still clear, and so we will take some time to walk at least around our block. My toenails are still black (just my big toes, apparently caused by the 5 mile walk a few weeks ago) but they don’t hurt. I guess I need to replace my walking shoes with a pair that has a wider box toe. In time, the nails will grow out, or fall off. But that’s not why I didn’t want to walk. My ribs have been hurting again, and they hurt less when I sit still with my feet up, so I’m sitting still, with my feet up.

Rick’s mother used to say that growing old wasn’t for sissies. Of course, she was talking about reaching one’s seventies, not sixties. But reaching my sixties with lesions in my brain and on my spine that confuse messages from my brain to the rest of my body, and within my brain itself, qualifies me as growing old a bit earlier than expected. Some days I feel like I’m in my sixties (which I am.) Other days I feel older. Today was one of those days.

My mother, who was struggling with Alzheimer’s gradual encroachment on her brain, used to call herself “Dumb Dora” when she would confuse something, or forget something, or lose or misplace something. It was her way of trying to make light of those moments. We understood, and we would smile with her, and help her. I am now fully empathizing with how that must have felt. I hear myself calling me forgetful, or overwhelmed, or lost in space. At school teachers (and all teachers have these moments as they work with more than a hundred unique individuals every day) would tend to identify with Dory (from the movie Nemo); Dory had no short term memory. I have no short term memory. Doctors who write about patients with multiple sclerosis and brain lesions say that we have not lost our intelligence ~ we simply have difficulty accessing it. Small comfort. It reminds of the book, Flowers for Algernon, which became the movie, Charly.

Tomorrow is to be another sunny day. I plan to get up early enough not to miss the morning. I have a book to continue writing, and a quilt to continue making. And I have Rick to keep me company, and remind me when its time to eat, or time to take pills. He is such a patient husband (no pun intended); he rarely reminds me when it is time to do the laundry, or make the bed, or (heaven forbid) do the dishes (okay, load the dishwasher.) He and I both tolerate clutter evenly, and when it gets to us, we attack it together.

That’s all I have to say tonight. Not much of a conversation, but an update none the less. Be well, all.

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5 Comments

  1. denise

    Passwords got to be a problem for me so I bought myself a notebook and called it the computer notebook. I would put all my user names and passwords in it. I too love the winter the best. denise

  2. I love snowstorms (that I don’t have to shovel) and LOVED snow-days (especially at the end of school terms when grades were due!) I’ll have to ask Rick how many days ’til Christmas 🙂

  3. Flowers for Algernon is one of my favorite books. Reading it was also an inspiration for me to write while I think I can still reason. I write wondering if I read what I wrote in 20 years will it make sense to me? Sometimes, I think of my weekly writings like time capsules put away for somebody’s amusement in the future. Maybe it will even be me?

    On the aging front, I am convince every MS year should count for 1.5 years of aging, kind of like the 7 dog years per human year rule. So many of my symptoms are shared by people older than I am. I just get them earlier. Despite my claims, my wife insists I only get the symptoms of age, not the wisdom…what a crappy trade.

  4. There’s a post on Facebook that says short people are just finished growing earlier because they’re already great in God’s eyes, or something like that. Oh gee, I had a point in mind when I tried to recall that post, but it flew out as quickly as it entered. Something to do with dog’s living a full life in fewer years … they’re finished sooner, that’s all. Oh – that was it – we are aging faster, and having age-related symptoms younger, because we can process the ups and downs of life more efficiently, having had plenty of practice and having already maxed out in the wisdom department. How’s that for an age-related answer? My motto: I’m not perfect, but I’m enough (Carl Rogers.)

  5. When it comes to mottos about dealing with MS, I fall back on my grandma’s saying from the time she turned 70 till she died at 92, “I’m in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in.”

    If I’ve maxed out on the wisdom part, I feel even more sorry for my family 🙂 I’m not done growing yet, and I don’t just mean my gut. LoL

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