The Fabric Of Our Lives

Here's an old commercial you may recognize:

A few days ago, I unwapped my new ironing board and decided to iron some clothes.  Yes, you read that correctly. *I* was ironing my clothes.  This is a rarity for me.

I think that the worst aspect of summer is that it is such a cotton dependent season. Since this 'season' lasts 7 months in southern Arizona, there is a whole lot of cotton dependency going on here. And for most of these cotton clothes to look decent, they really need to be ironed. The reason I am doing mine now is to get started with packing for my summer trip north. I figure I could look good for at least one wearing, right?

I *hate* ironing. Every one of my brothers/sister had to learn the basics of ironing, but it was my sister and me who shouldered most of the burden. The price of being female, yet again. We spent many summer days in the basement with piles of clothes fresh from the freezer, ironing while watching old TV shows like Jack Lalanne, Let's Make A Deal or I Love Lucy reruns. We actually lived a lot in the basement in the summers because we had no air conditioning.  Once in awhile it actually panned out that there would be a tornado warning on TV which directed us to head to our basements. Hey-  we were already there, so why not go UPSTAIRS and run outside to LOOK for the tornado! Better yet, if you're my oldest brother, grab your camera and head outside for the best shot of the funnel cloud bearing down on our neighborhood!  It was a time of dangerous living, alright.

The ironing ordeal seemed never ending. Those damned patches on my dad's fireman uniform shirts and from his part time job at the fire equipment company were the worst. Our mom made me do a lot of them over.  No button placket or shoulder seam could be hung up with unsightly wrinkles. Even our own clothes which may have been enjoyable to wear, were cursed when having to make them look good enough to wear again on Sunday.

I remember those times as I am ironing my cotton rich fabric shirts for summer.  As I go carefully around each button with just the point of my Sunbeam steam iron, I can almost hear the theme song to Dark Shadows and the admonition of my mom's voice saying, "Don't worry about burning your fingers. Put more water in the steamer, and do that collar over again, too."
I will never like ironing.

                            "HEY DARALYNN!! DARK SHADOWS IS STARTING!!!"  :)

Footnote: As of today, I have been on my weight loss quest for 10 weeks. Not long in the grand scheme of time, but long enough to have twinges of wistfulness that there would be an end in sight.

I am happy with my progress, I just eeked out 30 pounds total loss from my beginning weight 10 weeks ago. But there are no signs yet of anyone even noticing that I have lost this weight. I am down 1 size in clothing and I do notice that some of the very shirts I'm ironing are loose on me, but I won't run out and buy more smaller clothes yet for the sake of my budget. I am holding out until next month when I go to Minnesota to take advantage of tax free clothes shopping in my usual sub par haunts like Fleet Farm(mmmm, love the smell of rubber scented jeans!).
I have such a long way to go to my goal of losing another 55 pounds. It will be a long slog yet and I'm guessing I won't get there until December.  I will not deviate from my plan though. It has served me well. I eat tons of protein, including beans and flax.  I am so used to this now that I have no gastric distress. I also eat veggies until I am stuffed, but very limited fruits, no grains or breads or starches and NO SUGAR in any form.  My diet pills have allowed me to never yet experience hunger at any time.  This is working and I am willing to keep at it for as long as it takes.

Happy 58th

Another April 13th.

As I mark another milestone without my husband, I was thinking that I probably feel more down on Gary's birthday than even the other days of importance, like the day he died, or the day he was diagnosed or his last day of work. I think its because those days are meant to be dreary and sad.  A birthday, though, is supposed to be happy and satisfying and made up of fun and surprises.  But not anymore, its just hard for me. Happy or not, I will never NOT think of Gary on his birthday.  If we can make holidays out of dead presidents' birthdays, I should get to mark the occasion of my Gary's day of birth, right?

April used to be a hopeful month.  When we lived 'up north', it was finally the beginning of spring with a whole lot of crappy cold days mixed in. It was Easter and candy and eggs and pastel colors everywhere.  Here in central Arizona, April means the hot days return, the AC's start up and the snowbirds leave. Whatever state we've lived in, April was Gary's birthday so it was a good month because of that.

Even though being born on Friday the 13th could be seen as being bad luck, the idea that I had Gary meant the best of luck for me.  Back in Sioux Falls, we always went out to eat wherever he wanted, usually a buffet like Apple Annie's or The Anchor Inn which had all you can eat froglegs.  Later, Gary liked Olive Garden(endless soup and salad), Coyote Canyon, The Royal Fork and then in California, it was Hometown Buffet. Souplantation just wouldn't cut it because they had too many healthy vegetables and not enough desserts to meet Gary's high standards. And of course, there was Dickey's for lunch or for when we'd meet up with friends who like to eat on a budget.

Always, Gary got a dessert on his birthday. He hated the obligatory "Happy Birthday" song to earn the dessert, but it was a price he was willing to pay. That's another reason he liked buffets. Dessert without the hassle or the candle.

As if to make up for being born on a Friday 13th, Gary's April birthstone is a diamond.  I think about that every time I put on the ring I had remade for me from Gary's wedding ring and my diamonds.  It is handsome and bright, just like Gary, although I would prefer it be worn as intended, on his hand, not mine. I wear it on my left hand and I'm sure people think its my wedding ring.

Happy 58th birthday, Gary. Some things have changed in the nearly 18 months since you've been gone, and some things are still the same.  I still miss you every minute of every day and I wish you were here. But I just KNOW that they have Dickey's BBQs up in heaven and you will enjoy your pulled pork sandwich with waffle fries and your Big Yellow Cup filled with all you can eat ice cream and just a little root beer. Someday, I will be sitting across from you in a booth again watching you eat.  Happy Birthday. I Love You.  Forever.

Friends

I made it over to Southern California last week to see friends.  It is very odd, when I think about it. Never before in my life have I traveled somewhere, not for relatives or the purpose of a family function, but simply to see and be with some overly nice people.  I don't know why they are so good to me, honestly.  What did I ever do to deserve their friendship?  Nothing.  I am not a generous person who oozes niceties and I can't afford to give nice gifts to those I appreciate.  I collect cans, bottles and plastic to recycle for cash! I pick up pennies on the streets fergodsakes!

Still, these people, who come from all walks of life, of all ages and means are who I get to call friends.  I have some friends I see a few times a year, some I just text, some who just 'like' some of my posts on facebook. Some are old coworkers of mine or Gary's.  The closest are the ones in California. The land of nuts and granola has some awfully kind people despite what the rest of the country thinks about the place. What a gift it was to be able to live there and meet these people!

Robbie and I stayed at a friend's house in Ontario. Robbie is comfortable with the house and the owners now and they with him.  Thank goodness he is a good houseguest(minus the spring coat shedding).  He gets his lovely walks in the morning and in the evening.  His tail is just a little higher and his feet spring when he gets to walk in old familiar surroundings.

When I go to visit over there, we always go out to eat.  My meals are often picked up by generous friends who don't keep tabs on that stuff like I do.  I add these acts of generosity onto my list of meals and favors I owe them. One in particular, a coworker of Gary's, is just outrageously nice.  I so enjoy talking to him over drinks and dinner.  This visit I also got to see Gary's former admin assistant who was special to Gary, but also to me.  I will never dig myself out of the hole of what I owe to these two people.  They may not care, but I do.  I dislike the guilt, but I love these people!

On my drive back home, I was thinking that, toward one person in particular, I have not been a good friend. I don't need to interject MY viewpoints into her situation any more than she into mine, which she has never done. I felt bad about this, but on the phone to me later, she said she didn't feel that I do. Being a good forgiver is the hallmark of a good person.

I do have other friends in far away states and even in other countries. I am so lucky to have them all!
I do not deserve them, but I would never want to lose any of them, either.

Here's an example of how sweet some people are:  After I left the restaurant, I texted this to my two dinner partners, former coworkers of Gary's: "You two are the best people Gary ever to chose work with. I am lucky he did. Thank you for not forgetting either of us".

This response came back: "You are the best thing he left us."

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I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travelers to go?