The long, slow week

This week has lasted longer than any week should.  I think it has been the weather, the new medicines, and the difficult tasks.  Worry over the yard and garden have been no help.  I did get a lot of leaves dragged out of the flowerbeds and from around the tree into the grass.  I know appreciate why Larry was so meticulous about getting every leaf up as soon as he could.  Sitting leaves make a mucky mess and kill the flowers.

Meloxicam gave me the poops on the very first day.  I am optimistic that will not be the case in the long run.  I will need to keep an eye on my blood pressure.  I hate this. My tummy is upset, yet I am starving.  I have no idea how to eat.

Taxes are done, I think I got everything entered correctly.  I get a modest refund, which is always nice.  I do need to be sure there are taxes withheld on my SS and DFAS, or I will be in trouble next year.

Still have not completed the Affidavit of Survivorship.  It is a little complicated, not very, but just enough to throw me off.  I also need more death certificates.  Damn.Where did they all go?

The kittens are stinking cute, active, loving, and pretty much terrific.

Slow going this week

Went to to doc, I have spondylosis of the spine.  Means my L5 is shoved forward and there's arthritis and degeneration.  It is all horrible.  I am one prednisone for a few days, then switch to an NSAID.  This will suck as far as my blood pressure goes.  The prednisone is messing with me, tired, headachey, and moody as hell.  I haven't cried this often for a couple weeks now. 

I did get a yoga for back pain poster taped up in the kitchen.  I have a strap, a bolster, and a couple mats.  Wish me luck.

It doesn't help that I have been working on the Affidavit of Survivorship, which forces me to look at things like his death certificate.  Assembling the tax crap, and I know I need to get a new will done.  I did email a death certificate to Loreto to take him off the account.  That began my weepy spells. 

Prednisone or grief?  Either way, it sucks asswater donekyballs.

Working on the lawn a tiny bit too.  Swapped out the St. Patrick's stuff for the Easter stuff.  Made a shopping list.  Wondering why I am bothering with coupons, there's nothing good for just me.  Looked at the new issue of Food Network.  So many recipes, but what's the point?  I'm not going to go all out just for me. And no, no one is coming over for dinner.  I did put the ingredients for tzatziki on my list.  I make a lot of yogurt,I need to use it up.

Chipping away

Well, I am doing a little of this, a little of that.  I made a doctor's appointment, refilled a prescription, got a couple bills paid, and have begun the process of doing the Affidavit.  All the information I needed was online in my property tax records. 

I have a list.  I often ignore my list, but today I was able to cross off one thing entirely, and a couple things partially.  A start.

I even got out the smaller crockpot, seared the pork for stew chunks, and got some chili verde started.  Kinda, it is thrown together.  Should be yummy with rice.

I need to contact Dallas and ask if he can thatch my lawns.  Basically, that is just a vigorous raking to get up any leftover leaves, weeds, and dead grass.  I cannot do this myself, but I have some serious doubts about Dallas.  He was drinking while raking the leaves last autumn, and when they came to help a little more later, I could tell he was drunk.  His wife drives him around and his vehicles are often out of commission.  I just don't feel good about the whole thing.  He still owes me though, I gave him the snowblower.  Sigh. 

Yesterday I scooped up some leaves, trimmed the lavender, and got a lot of dead crap out of the front flower bed. I do not know if I am going out to do more today.  Maybe.  Maybe just a tiny bit. I am shooting for some each day, and there's a crapton of dead leaves out there.

The kittens are coming to sit in my lap and purr more often.  Lolo is silly, she was in the tub chasing her tail!

The only adult in the room

Me, that's me.  I am the only adult in the room because I am the only human being in the house.  If things are to be done, I get to do them.

Today I ordered and paid for the Affidavit of Survivorship forms and guide.  This is what is needed to take a person off the deed to a parcel of real estate.  You cannot just take the death certificate down the the office and say, I own this plot, he is dead, fix it.  Oh no.  There is a form.  I was intimidated at first, because the sample had stuff I didn't grasp intuitively.  But I looked at our tax records on file and found what was wanted. Hey, that was not so bad.  Now I have to fill out the form I downloaded, print it, and take it to the credit union and have it notarized.  I think I need to take the death certificate too, but that's hardly a surprise.  Next stop would be the County Recorder's Office.  And then I can go cry over beignets at Pig and A Jelly Jar that I am slowly erasing Larry.

Taxes are next.  I have everything but the will to do them.  I can, I just do not want to begin the process.  Soon, though, before April. 

That leaves a will.  I definitely need a new will. 

Fuck, why me?  Fuck cancer, fuck the uncaring universe, and fuck being a widow. 

At least I got the Safeway card in my name.  And the Smith's card.  And I know how to get groceries delivered. 

Anyone want to come thatch my lawns?

Seriously?

I once had a kick-ass immune system.  I never got sick although I had other health issues.  Now it seems as if I leave the house, I catch a damned cold.  Snotfest 2019.  Once for Cancun, and once for California.  My best guess is stress.  Gee.

So, Desi and I hopped in the car and she drive us to California.  We stayed in Los Gatos, which is in between Santa Cruz and San Jose, in the hills, nestled between redwood trees.  Nice.  Rainy and damp, but lovely.  Went on both Winchester House tours, included the behind the scenes one.  I have some theories about that poor crazed widow, and a lot of empathy.  No way is that house haunted with so many people tramping through it all day.  It needs a rest.  The ghost trap room behind the one bathroom was eerie.  They didn't call ti that. but I know what a ghost trap looks and feels like.  That Sarah had the floor completely demolished and hauled away, and the woman kept everything, suggests to me that for whatever reason, she saw or experienced something which horrified her.  They say she shut off the first 30 rooms after an earthquake but what was the timing on the floor being smashed?  It doesn't add up.  Sure, she may have fallen prey to her own demons, but it is creepy as hell.

We also went to a couple state parks and walked through the redwoods.  Fantastic.  Another day, we drove up to the Lick Observatory, the first mountaintop observatory in the US.  Again, fascinating.  It is a lovely area once you get away  from all those people in the valley.

Fading away

We have a Smith's card, good for discounts and specials and the free Friday downloads when they're offered.  Yesterday I changed the card from Larry's name to mine, and updated the phone number.  Small acts such as this make me feel like I am erasing Larry bit by bit.

I think I have found an appropriate avenue for Larry's wonderful clothes.  He has so many interesting outfits, things I have made, vintage cowboy shirts from his dancing days, thrift shop finds, coats, jackets, and generally wonderful burner costumes and unique dress garments.  There is a shop in Salt Lake called iconoCLAD which takes clothing and resells it on commission. 50%, which is quite good.  Research definitely goes into the pricing, so the vintage stuff will not go to waste.  I have given away a lot of nice things to people who will appreciate the connection to Larry, but there's too much, and I could use a little cash.  A yard sale would yield next to nothing, eBay and Etsy are too difficult with shipping, and a thrift shop is dicey because so much could end up in the recycle rag bag.  No, consignment is the way to go.  This will take months, even years, but his things can move on in a way which does not hurt my heart.

Letting go of his wedding shirt will be painful.  His good kilts will go to the Fire Tribe fundraiser.  His brown kilt definitely goes to the Temple. 

Lucky Domino pees on soft throws and blankets.  She hasn't gone on the bedding, but let go when I was wrapped in Larry's quilt and was petting her.  This is no good.  I can't wash things every day!