My New Joyful Theme Song

I LOVE this song! I love the message! So joyful!

Happiness is good. So are ice cream-colored pastels. And girl power!

In Search of Joy

If I'm lucky, I may live another 50 years, or 30 years, or 10. Or I might die tomorrow. I read once if you reach fifty years of age, you have a 75% chance of reaching 80. Or something like that. But then I see obituaries of lots of people who die at nearly any age...and many at my age. Regardless of when I die, I'm now old enough to take stock of my mortality as I watch each day go by faster and faster. I look back on what I've done and what I didn't do and wonder how I should live the rest of my life.

I was listening to a radio show the other day and the host asked, "If you could know the exact day and time of your death, would you?" Half of the people in the studio said, "Yes" and half said, "No". The "No's" explained it would cause them to worry too much. I'm a "Yes" girl. I want to know. As it is I worry too much about dying anyway. I worry about not only when it will happen, but how. Will I end up with a disease that destroys my body and crushes my spirit. Who will take care of me? Will I drive to the store tomorrow and collide with a logging truck? Will some psychopath break into my house next week and murder me in my bed? I worry if die alone at home, how long it will take for someone to find me? I worry if I die while camping out in the woods will anyone find me? I worry about what will happen to my house if I die. I worry about who will get my things when I'm dead. Not knowing when I will die makes the future an unknown. I worry about money, security, stability, and health. I worry about the choices I make and whether they are good ones that will sustain me for the rest of my life.  I could live another 50 years. How does one plan for that if there is a chance I could die next week?

So I started thinking about life. I think this is what we do as we age. Mortality trumps youthful immortality. How would I live differently if I knew the exact day and time of my death? For starters, I could plan the rest of my days and know how much money I might need for survival. Knowing would reduce the stress of work. I could get rid of everything I own and no longer worry about who is going to get it. Or sell my house and make it available to the new owners the day before my death day so I still have a place to live. Heck, I could spend every cent I have and not worry about who will get it! I would travel more. I'd be more adventurous with life because I already know when I'm dying. No worries.

My brother was in a coma once. He was on a motorcycle and swerved to avoid hitting a kid on a bicycle coming up the hill on his side of the road. During that three week time-out from life, God spoke to him and told him he would die from smoking. Did that make him quit smoking? Heck, no. He claims when God discloses this kind of information, He won't be changing His mind. There isn't a choice so changing his bad behaviors now would be useless. I don't know if knowing how you would die would be helpful, although I think if God told me I'd die from being eaten by a shark, I wouldn't be swimming in the future. I'd rather know the date and time I plan to die. I'm a planner.

But I have no idea when I'll die. With that in mind as I look into the unknown future, one thing I do know is I need more joy in my life. More joy, less stress. More joy, less worry. More joy, less disappointment. More joy, less anger. More joy, less hate. More joy, less work. Lately I've been considering joy with every decision I make. I ask, Will this contribute more joy to my life right now?

Joy is relative, however, to each individual's circumstances. What might bring joy to one person would create hell for someone who is chemically sensitive. I can't decide to go to a party or a restaurant without un-joyful consequences and I also can't treat myself to a day at the spa or go to an indoor concert or theatrical presentation. I can, however, have a garage sale and get rid of the junk and clutter in my life. So joyful!

My new Joy Plan involves making a grand effort at fixing my health. We'll see how far I can get. I'm trying not to give up which I tend to do. I figure if I can feel better, joy will be easier to attain. Unfortunately, this involves spending (wasting) a whole lot of money going to useless doctors and this frustration and stress could be the exact opposite of joy!

Lately my joy decisions do tend to revolve around financial choices. Spending money has always been difficult for me especially now. Chemically sensitive people often suffer from what someone coined as the PTSD of MCS. Once you've been disabled and unemployable, nearly homeless and in financial ruin, you tend not to want to spend money frivolously. Or at all. Even for basic necessities.

So my new Joy Plan is all about finding a balance between frugality and ecstasy. Who knows how much longer I will live, but it's time to starting enjoy my life more. Spending money is really fun as long as I can push aside the feeling of stress it creates. It's fun to treat myself with new things! Like new organic sheets. New clothes. New closets. New heating system. What else can I buy for some joy? Yes! Joy can be bought!

After my foot injuries, multiple doctor visits, and house remodeling, can I afford to go on vacation? Nope. Do I care? Nope. I'm going anyway!!!

New Doctor Fails Miserably...

It only took the doctor two weeks to fail miserably. I was just too excited and optimistic when I gave her that glowing review!  Foolish me. She was supposed to contact the pharmacist and ask about using coconut flour as a filler for my thyroid prescription, vegetable capsules instead of gelatin, ask about adrenal glandular prescription options, ask about specially formulated B-12 sublingual drops, and let me know what she finds out. That was what she said she would do. I thought this might take a day or two.

I waited. Patiently.

It took her a week to tell me the pharmacist can use coconut flour for a filler. That's all she accomplished in a week.

Still, I waited. Patiently. And then she disappeared completely.

What about the adrenal glandular and the B-12 prescriptions? And do I need to provide the coconut flour to the pharmacy which is what I had to do for the last pharmacy? What about the different dosage we discussed? Different administration instructions? I wrote two emails asking the doctor if she asked the other questions or found out anything else. The first I sent to her personal email address. I waited a few days and sent the second email to her office. Both were ignored.

Since I was running out of medication and planning to be out of town, I started to stress. Medications make me stress anyway, but hanging by my neck in limbo makes it worse. Finally more than two weeks later, I gave up on the doctor and contacted the pharmacist myself, asked the questions, and ended up just getting a refill on my old medication using coconut flour filler instead of rice flour and vegetable capsules instead of gelatin capsules. I didn't realize I didn't need a new prescription for these minor changes. I kept the old dosage since I couldn't wait around forever for this woman to do her job.

Two days after I submitted the refill the doctor's office emails me to tell me my prescription was sent to the pharmacist. Really? WHAT FUCKING PRESCRIPTION? She didn't answer any of my questions nor did she give me any of the information she said she would check so exactly WHAT is she prescribing? I emailed the office to ask and the receptionist emailed me back with a smiley face...? That's it. What is that supposed to mean?

I called the pharmacist and asked her to ignore the second prescription from the idiotic doctor. Since she already started filling the first prescription, she was fine with that. The pharmacist was actually more helpful than the new doctor.

I really hate it that I have to pay money to incompetent people and then end up doing all the work myself. My new doctor failed miserably. She is fucking fired.

Actually, she's not a doctor. She's a nurse practitioner. What was I thinking?

Drug Intolerance...An Epiphany!

This thyroid medication has some interesting and not so interesting side effects. First, biting bugs all of a sudden love me. I haven't had any bug bites for years and now it's every day. A few months ago I came across an article that explained it's hormones that mosquitoes et al. are attracted to which is why adults get bitten more than children. I always thought they were attracted to sugar. Bugs biting made berry picking this year a bit uncomfortable.

Second, I've been getting less adrenaline rushes and hot flashes at night. For a while I was getting them once an hour all night long, now it's down to two or three. Hooray! I'm not quite sure if it's connected to the higher levels of thyroid, but I think so and this is a good thing. My new and wonderful doctor is thinking I should take a pill in the late afternoon and see if it helps even more.

Third, I have found every few days the nausea starts creeping up and the headaches begin and it lasts all day until 5pm. As I mentioned before, I start getting tired around 5pm and I've been assuming this is when the drug wears off so this makes sense. It stands to reason my liver is not liking the drugs. Most holistic thyroid doctors recommend you do a liver cleanse before starting the medication to help it work efficiently. So every few days I drink a glass of freshly juiced beet juice. Blah.

Blah Juice

One way to get the beet juice down is to mix it with other fresh juices. I mix mine with a little apple juice, but the best recipe is to mix beet juice, carrot juice and apple juice. There was a raw food restaurant in San Francisco that included this drink on their menu and called it "Blood". Aptly named as it looks just like blood.

I'm also trying to eat more cilantro, another liver detox food, and drink lemon juice in water, a kidney cleanser.

Of course, nausea makes me want to revert back to by childhood comfort food: cereal and milk. It reminds me of getting the flu at my grandparents' house and my grandmother telling me cereal is what one should eat for breakfast after having the flu as it is easier to digest than eggs. I associate cereal and milk with love. Comfort food. Every time I eat it I think of her and those are good memories. I caved to temptation and bought gluten-free corn flakes, milk, and bananas, all three are NOT on my diet, but do I care? It seems to help with the nausea, or maybe it just tastes heavenly. Or maybe there is something else at work here....

So...I'm laying in bed thinking I'll probably have to be on these drugs for the rest of my life if I want to be able to function with any amount of energy, but do I really want to drink that much beet juice in my life? First, fresh juices are high in sugar and not on my diet, and second, beet juice is blah. Not gross, just blah. What can I do? There must be a simple, or, not so simple solution.

There is...WATER.

 

WATER??? What an epiphany! The best way to clean out your body and detox your organs is water. Everyone knows that so why have I refused to acknowledge this? I know I don't drink enough water. It's all I can do to get four cups down in a day, and believe me, I've tried. I've justified my lack of water with not everyone needs eight glasses of water a day, a comment I made eons ago when I wrote a blog post on water. Or maybe they do? If you are eating sugary, salty, junky or unhealthy foods, I'm sure you need lots of water to wash it all out. I failed to realize I might not be eating unhealthy foods, but I'm certainly ingesting weird substances in the name of health. Maybe I need to increase my water intake and see what happens? Can it be that easy? And if it is that easy, why has no doctor I've seen in the past ten years made this simple connection when I tell them I'm drug intolerant? They all ask me how much water I drink. Even that last naturopathic quack asked this, but made no comment. (She didn't really talk at all so I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.) Cereal and milk craving? Is it the milk adding to my hydration which is why it makes me feel better? Hmmm...

I love a good experiment! For the last two weeks I've been gulping down eight to ten glasses of water a day which is like drowning to me. I pour them all out in the morning so I can keep track and set goals. The first four glasses have to be gone by noon and it all needs to be done by 5pm. The first few days were not fun. The water retention was uncomfortable and I felt bloated and sluggish. The first few nights I was up and in the bathroom nearly every hour! What a pain! Literally! Driving anywhere for more than a half an hour and my bladder would feel like it was about to burst. But I persevered. Two weeks later and this improved a just a little so I have hope perhaps my body will continue to adjust. BUT the nausea and headaches went away immediately! Then by the second week, any time I did something strenuous or even got warm, sweat would drip from every pore. Profusely. Even my knees were sweating! This is a strange phenomenon as I've never perspired in my life! The nausea creeps in ever so slightly if I drink under eight glasses a day or with an empty stomach and I now start to crave water if I don't drink it. This is somewhat of a breakthrough for me.

It kind of makes me wonder if my life-long dehydration contributed to my chemical sensitivity? The premise, or so I've been told, is I don't detox fast enough or at all. If I've been constantly dehydrated, how could anything possibly be flushing out so that would make perfect sense. Why has no doctor ever made this kind of connection? That, however, is no excuse because I've always known humans are supposed to drink eight glasses of water a day. I am the person to blame. I am stubborn.

Excellent epiphany!

How many glasses of water do you drink?

Our Plastic World: Taking a Personal Inventory

Plastic is everywhere and used for nearly everything: bottles, can linings, computers, televisions, appliances, auto parts, food containers, dental fillings, rain coats, shoes, jewelry...and that's just a tiny sample. It's never-ending.  Plastic is lightweight and the materials used to make it are cheap making it very popular in our modern culture. The materials used include chemical compounds with names such as polyvinyl chloride (PVC) and/or bisphenol A (BPA). Problem is plastic of any kind is toxic.



Toxic cash register receipts??? Really?

BPA, or Bisphenol A, is a hazardous material used for making all kinds of food containers. It then leaches out of the container and into your body via air, ingestion, and skin absorption. Heat and grease compound the toxicity and magnify the exposure. Through various scientific studies, it has been linked to cancer, diabetes, asthma, heart disease, reproductive abnormalities, neurological problems, and obesity. In addition, it is a well-known endocrine disruptor and is detrimental to thyroid function. Unfortunately, most plastic baby products are made with BPA and pregnant women are advised to avoid contact with BPA. In addition to most plastic items, BPA is also found on cash register receipts! With all these studies confirming the same scary information, why is it still being used?

I've heard the recycling numbers on the bottoms of plastic containers will indicate safety usage levels. Avoid buying anything plastic with the recycle numbers #3 (polyvinyl chloride), #6 (polystyrene) or #7 (bisphenol A, or BPA). Initially this led me to believe all other numbers are safe, but I doubt it. One rule of thumb is soft plastics are supposed to be the worst with the harder, more durable types less problematic. Still, a chemical is a chemical no matter what kind of pretty words are used to describe it, or in this case, whatever the number. In the last ten years, many products have switched their packaging from glass to plastic again for convenience and cost, and I've stopped using those products. When given a choice, I try to opt for glass, metal or wood.

For years I've been trying to rid myself of plastic since testing positive for phenol sensitivities nearly ten years ago. Regardless of the testing results, I can't stand the smell of plastic nor the taste of anything stored in air-tight plastic. Early on I threw away all my old Tupperware and stopped buying Ziploc baggies.  I remember hearing about the new continent being formed out of plastics located somewhere out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and this motivated me to start using cloth shopping bags. I started collecting metal buckets for gardening and using glass jars for much of my food storage or any storage. I exchanged my lead-laced plastic window blinds and replaced them with washable, cloth curtains. I bought porcelain light fixtures for my closet lighting instead of the plastic variety. All my dishes, glasses, cups and bowls and other tableware/serving items are ceramic or glass. I threw away my blender with the plastic pitcher and opted for a glass pitcher type, but the casing is still plastic. Unfortunately, the plastic one worked better. These are the sacrifices that are made with a plastic culling.

This got me thinking...even with all the changes I've made, how much plastic do I still have in my life? So I wandered the house taking inventory:

I have three large and five small plastic storage totes although with this last garage sale, I sold a few. I can't stand how they make things stored in them stink, but they are convenient for grouping all my camping equipment in one place. I just have to offgas anything I want to use out in the fresh, open air before I use it. Had I not been rushed into this last garage sale, I might have sold them all and I regret not doing just that.

 

On occasion, I do accept a plastic bag from a store and then use them for waterproofing or anything I need to seal airtight-ish. I store my lettuce in a large glass bowl, but without a plastic cover it gets wilted in a very short amount of time. I try to avoid the plastic grocery bags as much as possible, but their convenience sometimes gets the best of me.

How did we ever not use plastic for food storage? I vaguely remember from my childhood leftovers stored in glass bowls with tin foil over it, but according to my cousin, tin foil is just as toxic. Most of the time I use a plate on top of a bowl, but sometimes cave to the convenience of a recycled Ziploc bag or plastic container. Recycling and reusing a plastic container makes me feel better about it, but I wonder if old, constantly-reused plastic gets more toxic with wear?

Keeps bugs out of things.

I also have collected recycled five and four gallon buckets and use them for outside storage and camping.

At one point I attempted to use paper bags for garbage or just tossing the garbage bits into the large PLASTIC garbage can, but I have to admit, it's messy and stinky. It involves constantly cleaning the garbage can which is a gruesome job. It's horribly inconvenient. Unfortunately, I like the convenience of a large plastic bag for garbage so I buy the kind that compost. I've thought about buying a metal garbage can, but they are so inconveniently noisy! The whole neighborhood would hear me dragging a metal can out to the street in the early morning hours. I hate noise. (Poor me! What an inconvenience!)

I have yet to give up all those recycled yogurt containers I used for freezer storage. Glass has been known to break in a freezer and that sounds inconvenient to say the least. I used to use them for paint because the necks are so much larger than glass jars which makes dipping a brush easier, but I've replaced all the paint storage yogurt containers with glass jars.

Hardly even used...

My dish soap and shampoo bottles are plastic. So is my brush, comb and toothbrush. My new thyroid medication is in a plastic bottle and the tacks on my bulletin board are plastic. My clothing hangers are plastic. Every CD case I own is plastic. My wheel barrel is plastic. There is no getting around plastic encased computer equipment. Even my new heaters, although they are metal on the outside, the insides are all plastic. (I watched their installation. Who would have known?) Trying to rid oneself of plastic in a plastic world is a huge challenge! Coupled with living in an area that rains nine months out of the year, waterproof plastic is a huge convenience. Yep, I said convenience again. I guess prioritizing convenience over health makes me the quintessential modern woman. Damn.

Well, this is an eye opening experience. I don't plan to throw away my computer or my car just because it has plastic components. In a perfect world....

One step at a time.

My current focus is the plastic water bottles I use for water. I use the one gallon jugs with the #2 recycling number. These are supposed to be safe. Or safer. Hmmm...I don't know. I hate the idea of water sitting in the plastics too long and the filtered water machine I use deposits very warm water into the plastic containers and that can't be good.

It's been a challenge finding some kind of replacement especially since I must transport water from an hour and a half away which means hauling three to five gallons of water every week in and out of my house, but after reading an article on how these plastics might directly affect thyroid function I thought I'd make more of an effort especially with food/water storage.


Online I found one gallon water jugs for sale. The price per jug was only $4.00, but they are in a case of four so a mandatory $16. Unfortunately due to the weight of glass, the shipping fees cost more than the jugs!!  I wasn't sure I'd need four. My co-op sells water jugs for $10 each and I thought maybe I could get away with buying only two as a test. Putting a gallon of water into a one gallon glass jug makes it REALLY heavy and lugging them to and from my vehicle is more difficult. With plastic I could carry two in one hand. Not so with glass. I also have to be very careful HOW I carry the jugs whether they are filled or empty as there is always a risk of breakage and condensation or water drips on the outside make them slippery. Drop a plastic water bottle and it bounces. Not so with glass! Even driving with glass jars too close together and they clank dangerously against one another. Damn. Plastic is just so convenient!

Two jugs weren't enough as I was running out of water too quickly. My co-op ran out of stock so I went to another co-op and asked if they sold one gallon glass jugs. (I should have just bought the case of four! Not thinking....) The woman looked at my jug and said, "We don't sell them, but on occasion we have empty vinegar jars in the back that look just like that one. You just have to wash them." Did she say FREE!? I had to replace the lid as it had a plastic lining that no matter what I used couldn't be washed enough to rid it of smell, but the glass is wonderful!



What is the difference between these two jugs?
The one on the left cost $10. The one on the right was FREE!

It's definitely an adjustment to learn how to carry, transport and store glass containers, but I think it's healthier. If we all stop using so much plastic, perhaps the powers that be will stop making it?

Becoming plastic-free is challenging, but I'll get there! Eventually.

Deterrents to Downsizing

Not only do I love having garage sales, but I love going to them. I love seeing what kinds of junk people have and what they think they can get for it. If it's an estate sale, I love to see the insides of houses.  However, once I have my own garage sale, I try hard not to load up on more junk for a while and enjoy the freedom of less. For a while.

Today, a week after my own garage sale, we had an estate sale in the neighborhood. These are great because normally the whole innards of the house is being sold so you can find some quality stuff, not just old, worn junk. I debated whether I should go or not. I don't want to load up on stuff I may end up having to sell in a few years or risk taking a loss when it doesn't sell for as much as I paid. After almost ten years of buying enough stuff to fill my house, I no longer have a desire to buy old furniture (to paint), more garden supplies (trying not to garden much), or waste money with bad purchases (like that dog-stink rug). I'm trying hard to focus on downsizing. It takes a lot of willpower. Besides I still have a house full of stuff and will need to get rid of it if I want to move into a tiny house or follow my dream of retiring in Europe. Shipping stuff to Europe would be very expensive. But there are items I can still justify buying at sales: good quality, hardly-used, non-smelly linens, blankets, quilts and clothes. These are usable items that will wear with time and eventually be thrown away. And they are light-weight and easy to pack. Buying brand new linens and clothing means suffering from toxic treatments and washing the item multiple times until it looks old just to make it safe. And of course, paying much more.

I like buying clothes at an estate sale if they are made from natural materials and don't stink. Very often at these big sales I can find new clothing with tags still on them or obviously never worn or washed. New, yet never worn usually means they've been sitting around in a closet offgassing so they don't stink. Today I found a tourist t-shirt! Very soft 100% cotton, never worn, no smell, with a not-too-ugly-design. I draw the line at ugly designs, cheap fabrics or bad dye jobs and I refuse to wear a tourist t-shirt if I have never been to the location. I've been to Paris, but I never bought a t-shirt. I bought this t-shirt with the Eiffel Tower for only $3 and it's my size!

Hooray for a new t-shirt!

It's the little things that make my day....

Doctor Discovery!

I think I finally found a competent health care provider!!!

She is a little older than I am so she has knowledge and experience with menopause.

She HAS Hashimoto's thyroiditis!

She is chemically sensitive and her office has a poster on the outside of the door requesting a fragrance-free environment.

She works closely with a compounding pharmacy and knows the pharmacist personally.

Her daughter has food allergies so she has experience dealing with food issues.

She's been researching EMF sensitivities.

She is an advocate of healthy living and organic food.

Instead of looking at me like I'm stupid or just ignoring me completely, she actually told me many people have genetic mutations that make them extra sensitive to additives and fillers in supplements, and pharmaceuticals.

And then she said to me, "I lived in Germany for years. You should retire in Europe. Everything is so much cleaner and healthier."  This is a woman who knows and understands me!!!

And then to top it all off her treatment ideas were right on the mark.

She did not once say anything blatantly stupid or disrespectful or anything suggesting she didn't know what she was doing once.

This is just the first appointment. I felt like I really connected with her which is so rare for me. Amazing!

I am once again hopeful!

Downsizing is Proving to Be More Difficult Than Expected

Friday night my neighbors started setting up for a yard sale so I decided to join them. Two houses selling draws more people, but unfortunately, instead of putting out their signs making it look like there was more than one sale, my neighbors decided to piggy back on my signs. Lazy people. Oh well. It still motivated me to unload junk and we had lots of buyers. About four others in our little neighborhood also joined us.

Downsizing is difficult. I had a few items I desperately needed to get rid of: the rug I bought in a garage sale a few months ago that smelled like dog stink, a shelf, the spool-bed-converted-into-a-bench, lots of books, and lots of junk I'd been storing from the last garage sale.

Dog-stink rug. I lost lots of money on this...

 

I was up very late Friday night cleaning the garage and setting up the sale items. I kept wandering around the house looking for things to sell. What is sitting around useless? What is impractical and only for display? What is extra? What can I live without? What would I regret selling? Do I really need sixteen glasses? Answering these questions was difficult. There were many instances I would take something out to the garage, bring it back in a few minutes later, take it back out, bring it back in...DAMN! Between sentimentality and practicality, I was tormented over these decisions. Someday I want to live in a tiny house or at least a smaller house so getting rid of junk is a requirement. And lightening the materialistic load makes me feel free.

In and out of garage at least five times. Sold for $1.

With some things what I eventually decided was to put them in the sale with a high price. If they sold, good riddance, and if they didn't, I was meant to keep it. This is not a good downsizing practice as there is a good chance it won't sell. Ugh! My incredibly old wooden ladder didn't sell, but I think I could use it in my next garden as a trellis so that is fine.

Same with the spool-bed-converted-into-a-bench. I brought it back to life by re-purposing it so I was a little attached. It was sitting in my spare bedroom gathering dust, but my pride made me want to keep it there. To gaze upon it. To remind myself of how hard I worked to be construction-clever. Then I sat on it and was reminded of its instability and how I really don't want a dangerous bench. Still, I tried to talk myself out of it thinking other people might not want a wiggly bench, too. Or maybe a prospective buyer would sit on it, it would collapse, they'd get injured, and sue me. Jeez. I can justify anything with nonsense. Eventually I figured the person who buys it can fix it.

Bye-bye wiggly bench. I hope your next life is wonderful.

 

Early in the day a woman gushed over it and had to have it. I explained its history and how I made it to fit together and come apart. Her husband was with her and sounded knowledgeable about carpentry definitely much more than I am so I'm pretty sure he could stabilize it. Watching him THROW the pieces into the back of his pick-up truck made me feel sick. With the first loud BANG I gasped and turned away. I wondered if the posts I glued back together were holding or if the pristine white paint was being gouged and scratched. I no longer owned it so it was time to detach from it. Detaching is difficult. I brought it back to life. It's my baby. Just let it go.

Does anyone want to buy my business wardrobe?
I still can't believe I ever wore a navy blue suit.
I can't believe I kept these clothes for so long. WHY?

 

Garage sales are an opportunity to meet people one wouldn't otherwise encounter. Good people. Newbies recently moved here from out of town. Non-Rathole-ians. We all share the same views on the community and commiserate on the horror of Rathole living surrounded by trailer trash and sociopaths. This is always validating as I often wonder if I am the only one who feels this way about the area. Nope. I met several new residences with horror stories that rivaled my own bad luck tales! One woman told me after her house closed, she came for a visit only to find the ex-owner having a yard sale. He invited all his friends to take apart the house PIECE BY PIECE and sold to them whatever they could remove. When she arrived, there were about thirty-five people dismantling the fencing, the pipes, the mailbox, the doors, sheds, and hauling everything away. Can you imagine? If she would have delayed her visit the house wouldn't have been there on her return! Only in Rathole...

I got rid of lots of junk. Gave much of it away or let the buyer set the price. Just take it away! What I didn't sell I am throwing in the garbage or giving it away. No more garage sale storage boxes! Of course, the longer the garbage pile sits there, the more I want to bring the stuff back into the house!

 

Tomorrow I am giving away my medieval woodblock stamps. They have been in three garage sales. I was offered a low price for them a few years ago and declined. I can't keep them. Using them means playing with toxic dyes or paints and I'd like to avoid purposefully poisoning myself. But I can no longer let them sit in a box in a closet. They need to be used to create art. Still, it's difficult and I feel sentimental. I posted them on Freecyle and only one person wanted them. At least one person wants them!

Downsizing is challenging, but rewarding. I just wish I was better at this!

A Former Life Haunting?

I had a very brief, but very weird encounter today. I stopped in an antique store in a distant town to look for antique molding to repair my living room where the baseboard heater was removed. It was a quick side trip just to check if they had any in the size I needed and to price check it for comparison.

As I entered the store, I quickly glanced up and noticed a teenage boy looking at me and smiling. I'm estimating his age at about 14-15 years old, blonde curly hair, very cute and sweet looking. He was with others, but I wasn't paying attention and I made the quick assumption he was conversing with someone and by chance looked my way. However, for a brief second it felt like he knew me.

I have to admit, this isn't anything new. Strangers always smile at me like they know me. In grocery stores, on the street, in cities miles away. I'm not sure why. Do I walk around looking friendly? Do I look familiar? I've had people all my life tell me I look like their best friend's cousin's sister so I'm kind of used to it. Unfortunately, now I'm so anti-social it only irritates me. I brushed off this boy's familiar smile and continued through the store.

I headed back to the inner cubicles of this antique warehouse and as I'm looking at the molding, I glance around to see if there is more inventory and again, out of the corner of my eye I notice this boy purposefully watching me from a distance. The people with him were looking at something farther away and not paying attention. As our eyes met, he gave me the biggest, warmest, most loving smile like we are old friends reunited. Does he think I'm someone else? Unfortunately, it made me feel uncomfortable and after a quick inventory of the molding I made a beeline out of the store and out of town.

Much later I thought about this boy. Was he a former student? I did the math and my last teaching job was thirteen years ago so the youngest of my students would have been five years old. Could the boy have been 18 years old? Maybe. I wasn't really paying attention to him and merely glanced at him each time. He could have been older.

This is what is so scary about being a former teacher...adults don't usually age enough to become unrecognizable, but kids sure do and that always puts me at a disadvantage. I had a former sixth grader come up to me in public only a year after I had her in class and she was a foot taller, twenty pounds lighter, and totally unrecognizable looking like a young woman. It's frightening to have someone come up and say, "Miss Yatna? Do you remember me?" Just the Miss Yatna makes me jump out of my skin as not all my teaching memories are good ones, but they are always so happy to see me. They exude such warmth and love like I was the best memory of their childhood.

With former student encounters I always respond with, "OK, who are you? More than likely I know your name and remember, but you've grown up so I don't recognize you." Or I recognize their voice first and then connect the face. Or the younger kids used to just run at me and give me a hug before I even realize what was happening and I'm thinking, "Who the hell is this?" But it's been long enough none of them are young anymore. I have yet to encounter any student formerly classified as devil spawn and there were many. There are a few names that would illicit a quick, "You were such a horrible nightmare in my class."

I feel badly my anti-social behavior prevented me from taking a moment and asking the boy who he was. We were both about five hours and a state away from any school where we may have known one another so I didn't even connect him as a former student until much later. I keep remembering his smile. It was so loving like it was all he could do to keep from throwing his arms around me.

I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I feel sad about this.

FML.