He once reigned supreme but his sticky residue is now de-throned
For the foreign help desk at the electronics’ website
Is now a chat box with hours-long delays, okay, you win!
Just go ahead and try to get a new phone, I dare you twice, he warns
Your angst with paper stickers on produce that stick in your teeth
Can’t light a candle to the one you never see or can’t understand
Should the bot wizard become akin to a blood-thirsty human
About to challenge your mental stability as your life agonizingly slips away.
Go ahead again. Try to get your throw-a-way, $1,000-phone-on-a-20-year-payment-plan to work better, NOT!
I prescribe a lobotomy to cope since rationality isn’t a trait of a programmer abroad.
Think I am exaggerating? No, your turn is coming. It’s only a matter of time as they say.
One day we will all succumb to the Son of the Sticker Man, the Help Desk with forked tongue
Just bring your alcohol, chocolate, potato chips (family-sized bag please) and expect PAIN
And don’t even try to click over to a new window while waiting my dear friend. The torture will intensify with a prompt for password you don’t even know as you get blasted out of rationality again and again.
I suppose it all makes a flip phone sound really good about now, eh? JJ
No, he didn’t die. He just goes away for large swaths of time as soon as the forsythias start their yellow bloom season up north here until the crimson leaves begin to fall into the local waterways. Then he “comes back to life” again when I need him to keep me warm when the snow flies, that’s all. Such is the life of a kayaking widow!
For those of you who have taken a break from reading your cereal box and picked up your beloved’s issue of Canoe News* instead, this one’s for you! You may or may not be a paddler and that is o.k. If you are not a RACER, however, and HE IS then you are invited to join me in this paper support group! We are not alone! (He does eventually come home to sleep and eat, right?) I mean, I understand girlfriend.
So we must stick together, you and me, and figure out alternatives to dreamy picnics in the park with our men. It probably won’t happen. Our guys are either out fulfilling the requirements of their United States Canoe Association (USCA) membership or too tired and sore from the workout the day before to take a walk on the local Prairie Path on a Sunday afternoon. “Would you massage my back?” is more likely heard than, “the moonlight sure is lovely reflected in your hair tonight.” But I digress. Just focus on the other scenic benefits of being married to an athlete if ya know what I mean? J
And try these tips to get past the USCA Nationals in August at least!
Go shopping. Spend wisely and no more than the amount he has invested in paddling gear.
Try a recreational race if you can paddle some; offer to take pictures of the event or help out if you prefer not. Kids can come too if desired. He will love you for taking an interest in his sport.
Leave a note of encouragement in plain view for your man to find as he makes his way out the door on race day before the rooster crows. Add food. Lots of food.
Plan regular events of your own either alone or with like-minded “widows.” There a lot of us out there, left behind from various endeavors requiring testosterone. Pick ones that require lots of estrogen to enjoy.
Eat chocolate and don’t share with anyone.
Look busy when he comes home yet be sure to greet him from upwind.
Surely there are a virtual bevvy of strategies for us land-lovers as I am only getting started here. Actually I was a fan of boating under power when I met my River Bear. What happened? Who knows but her name might be “Stella(r)” or something like that! I would love to hear from you ladies (and possibly widowers?) with your best tips on making the most of the paddling season.
Until then, gardening anyone? JJ
*Published in the Summer 2017 issue of Canoe News
This wifey-poo gets it right at an Indiana race on the St. Joe River in 2012!
I wasn’t exactly thinking of baking a blueberry dessert when the little rascals from my Big Box Store shopping extravaganza were scrambling all over our driveway the other day! Oh dear. My beloved will probably be reading this. I washed them off Steve, truly I did!
Such is the caper of the rogue blueberries: I opened the passenger side door of my truck to a splash of little purple berries spilling out onto the concrete beneath my feet. I ended up stepping on one or two as I stepped back to figure out what had happened. Squish! They had rolled underneath the truck, in front of the door, all around my feet, down the driveway, and even past the sidewalk 20 feet away. Geez oh man! Good thing for cracks in the sidewalk or the courtyard would be a “hazy shade of Winter” too! Maybe they wanted the freedom from their cramped clam shell cave into the cloud-covered, 30+ degree air? I dunno. I was getting cold so I set myself to rescue all that I could quickly without crushing them . . . two by three. Blueberries on the loose are not easy catch you know!
Two days later I had figured out that the day AFTER Valentines Day would be a perfect occasion for putting my little treasures to good use. I didn’t even use a recipe and yet I was able to concoct a gluten-free wonder made with a stick of butter, chopped pecans, and slightly sweetened coconut cream topping that would seem to get along well together. Yes! It was yummy!
So let this be a lesson for bakers everywhere. If you want a great homemade treat for a special holiday and exceedingly wonderful someone, rough up the ingredients on the pavement first. The beating will soften them and you just enough to get your creative juices flowing. The delectable dessert prize surely will soothe your taste buds long enough to make you forget about your sore knees and the blue stains under your fingernails!
Are you going to love it or list it? Are you ready to see your fixer upper? I just don’t think this kitchen is big enough for me! This will all have to be torn out and redone!
And so goes the thoughts in my head the day after being discharged from the hospital. Since cable TV was my only steady friend and we don’t have cable TV at home, we got really well acquainted in the past 3 days. I am convinced now that the wood floors in our home are stunning and that we can stay put for awhile longer. Wood floors are on-trend these days dontcha know?
I also learned that O.B. elastic panties secure blankets over hospital bedrails really well! When you are on “Fall Precautions” and have a history of seizures, they pad the bedrails with them. The only problem is that I am sure that wrapping blankets over metal bed rails hardly meets JCAHO requirements for prevention of injury! They outta have provided bed pads. Oh well. Welcome to the modern hospital complete with a 20+ year old hammock sling for a mattress. Otherwise, the food filled my belly and care was alright.
I was in the hospital after an urgent trip to the Rapid Care Clinic associated with my doctor’s office sent me there on Sunday. The Internal Medicine Doc said I could get an evaluation from an Infectious Disease Specialist there (which I was later promised in the ER as well). That never happened. What did happen was getting pumped with a plethora of drugs that created nausea for the first day and one-half, exhaustion from side effects and lack of sleep, weight gain from 4,000 cc of fluid and food-snacks-with-every-drug-to-protect-my-tummy, and a lesson in humility.
Regarding the latter, I learned that Nurse Practitioners and Physician’s Assistants run the modern hospital in America these days. Or at least they do for what happens bedside. I saw both types of professionals; they got to talk to the Infectious Disease Doc but I did not. Turns out that my acute case of shingles had been seen before so they treated me “by the book.” Never mind my history of daily seizures and concern for the brain-swelling complications that can come with the worst cases of shingles: a disaster potential which could change my life even further, forever. Thank you Lord that I had called the Ophthalmologist on-call the night before and gotten the treatment needed to protect my eyes from the herpes zoster virus. It is through the blurry vision of an eye ointment that I chat with you today! The hospitalists never mentioned protecting my eyes from the spread of this nasty, searingly painful viral infection . . .
So I did my time, got my drugs, stabilized a good part of the intractable pain, and got sent home with: red lesions and swelling on the right side of my face, a 4th day of constipation, lots of prescriptions for drugs and OTC meds, and a renewed sense of what it means to NOT be in charge of your own life, your own healthcare. I did get to ask questions and for that I am grateful. I did receive my Lyme infusions of antibiotics before I left to continue that part of my treatment and for that I am grateful. I tolerated a peripheral line for 3 days without skin irritation and for that I was amazingly grateful. I did catch up on HGTV enough to last me a good long while and for that I am grateful. And I was reasonably able to tolerate a modified, hybrid version of my diet from the hospital menu and for that I am grateful. I was alone for those 3 days and 2 nights yet my Heavenly Husband was always present and for that I am grateful.
There are two other tidbits to note: I met a lady while walking the halls who was in the hospital for pneumonia. She’s a smoker and familiar with Jesus Christ whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. I shared with her a short testimony of how the Lord appeared to be orchestrating the meds I was given during that hospital stay to possibly treat the serious seizures I have been suffering for 5 years. Please join me in praying that the person of Jesus Christ would become real for her as well: as her personal Savior this Christmas.
My second point was hidden in the first noted above. Did ya catch it? Yes, I have not had a seizure since coming home from the hospital and had WAAAY FEWER since taking Neurontin in the hospital. Neurontin is not typically given for Non-epileptic seizure episodes but hey, it is commonly indicated for shingles. Win-win? I am hopeful. What if these 5 years of suffering daily episodes are about to end? It is too soon to tell how this will proceed going forward yet I am grateful for my little Christmas week reprieve for sure!
Merry Christmas to you, Gentle Reader. Be sure to check out the Christmas Letter from Steve and me posted today as well. Even in the dark times there is hope since the Light of the World has come as the person of Jesus Christ. Oh I do hope that you will share with me in knowing this joy today!
I wasn’t exactly thinking of baking a blueberry dessert when the little rascals from my Big Box Store shopping extravaganza were scrambling all over our driveway the other day! Oh dear. My beloved will probably be reading this. I washed them off Steve, truly I did!
Jesus is for the Wounded 
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