My dear Joon...

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shireling
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Jan 09, 2018 10:14 am

I just saw that my DNA results are in...

Okay. I'm going to open them now. And it says

46% - Belgium, France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Liechtenstein - whoa!
39% - Poland, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Austria, Russia, Hungary, Slovenia, Romania, Serbia, Ukraine,
Belarus, Moldova, Lithuania, Latvia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia - yep, there's gotta be gypsies in there!
6% - Italy, Greece
4% - England, Scotland, Wales *fist pump*
3% - Ashkenazi Jewry - WOW!
___
98% it's never 100. Even paternity tests aren't.

But I am just gob-smacked! It's not what I expected. I figured on Eastern Europe as the major provider, but not Western. And a smidgen of Ashkenazi besides! It's only 3% but to find any at all, that is really special! :) I am just blown away. :8


:D
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat Jan 13, 2018 2:08 pm

The pipes didn't break. I'm so glad I was wrong about that. Everything just melted and the washer is back online, thank God.

We've had our January thaw. It was in the 50s on Thursday, and our kitchen and household stuffs are nicely stocked. I'm searching for another meal I can make quickly, and today we're having kielbasi and German potato salad. We go out to eat twice a week - Tuesdays are Chop Suey, Fridays Steak 'n Shake - so with the three veggie pastas, and the mushroom & clam chowder, I needed just one more.

To call them veggie is an injustice to the pastas. They're zucchini or spinach, combined with lentils - I'm not standing at the sink, turning out ribbons to cook. They're high in protein and very filling. I'm pairing each one with a vegetable side; Italian green beans w/ rottini marinara, cauliflower w/ rottini Alfredo , and broccoli w/ mac 'n cheese penne. The trouble is my freezer is so small. I just don't room for another dinner, well, I would if the Honey would give up his blueberry waffles. But that's just not happening, and besides, it's not fair. The man eats oatmeal six days a week and this is his one true enjoyment. He has them with fruit yogurt instead of butter and syrup, and I think that's what helps to keep his blood sugar so well.

Food for us is like adoption; it takes two yeses. If he doesn't like it, I'll look for something else. The great thing about the potato salad and sausage though, is that I can keep one in the pantry and the other in the meat bin. I was hoping to find a ravioli that I could store in the fridge that was filled with squash, but those are also frozen. I worry about cutting myself so I'm not getting raw produce anymore; the last time I made perogis, I sliced into a finger and that was the end of that. So, I'm keeping my unwounded fingers crossed that he's okay with this.

Last week, I saw an Independent Lenses documentary by Jennifer Brea. She has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and she made this in order to keep track of her own illness and that of others around the world. As of her film, there are 1 million cases in the US, 17 million worldwide. In Denmark, people are being stolen from their families and placed in psychiatric hospitals, by the government (!) simply because the doctors don't believe this isn't psychosomatic. It's an autoimmune disease, like diabetes, so instead of neurologists - whom I've been seeing - it should be an endocrinologist. But because of the diabetes, they won't see me, and the neurologists - all four of them - have been saying this is all in my head - sounds familiar. It was weird to watch these folks go hammer and tongs through their day, only to collapse moments later. It might not seem like the same, but there is so much that is similar.

Years ago, I was just like that. Going on and on, and then not being able to stay awake. I fell asleep in classes, and at work - all of which I'd forgotten, it'd been so long ago. I'd feel exhausted, I'd have trouble speaking - which is what Colette complained to me about, saying that my speech was "unhelpful". I can't remember the exact word she used but it is in that ballpark. I'm wondering if the tremor and balance issues are residuals from that. I only saw a tremor once in the film; a very young woman was helped to sit on the side of her bed. Her dad stayed by her side, and as he laid her back down, she shook. I mean, really shook, hard. It was the only tremor I saw in the whole 90 minutes. And as for noise, I also have trouble with that - though in my case, it increases my tremors; drumming, which is so popular now, makes me want to scream. It's virtually impossible to avoid it, and in the eyes of some, it's been taken as racist to excuse myself whenever the instruments are brought out. It's painful, but how do I explain it when most of the world won't believe it.

So, I figure, this could very well be what I've got. And since I'm not getting the care that I need from the specialists who should be seeing me and won't, I'm self-diagnosing and I'm going with this.

Right now, I'm managing. I'm taking care of me and our home, my honey and our kitty, and of Girlfriend, without whom nothing would be physically possible. I have a cane and a rollator, and people who will help in a pinch. By the time I'm ready for Medicare, I'll be able to get my propers. But, until then...

The roads are very bad. Lots of accidents, power outages, so we're staying inside, hopeful that things improve for Michael's visit tomorrow. The TV's on behind me and that's all I hear - terrible slide-offs, trucks overturning, and head-ons :( . We had spring temperatures yesterday, and now we're back at zero. We missed his last one due to the cold, but if it's bad, we're all better off if we don't see him.

Take care, my joons. Be safe.



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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Mon Jan 15, 2018 10:48 am

My Aunt Frances died this past Thursday.

She was my mom's oldest sister, who was in her 90's with Alzheimer's, and the one that I got Bev and myself in trouble with. It was back, more than a year ago, when Bev told me that she'd been to my cousin's and saw my aunt being left alone in a locked house while she went to work. My sister wanted them to do something, and gave them a limited amount of time to act. Well, when I heard about it, I couldn't just sit there. I felt an obligation, and called Adult Protective Services of the county where I grew up. The next thing I know, there's a SWAT Team, and the street's closed off, and my male cousin, the attorney? The one who should know better? He wants my phone number and my head on a platter, order unimportant.

But, Bev got to see Francie in the nursing home, and sent me pictures. She was asleep at the time, and Bev said she was clean, her hair was soft and she was all cozy and warm. This is one of the two

Image

Sorry, I don't know how to rotate it. It was the 26th Anniversary of our mom's death, October 23rd, when this photo was taken. There won't be a funeral. Just a cremation with her kids and their families in attendance. They're still annoyed *shrug*. It just seemed to me, at the time, that they got used to her in decline, and didn't realize what it would look like to somebody from the outside. They weren't prosecuted for it; I called the station and politely asked :wtf: with the SWAT, etc., wanting to know if they'd be in trouble. I was told no, and that was enough for me. But Cousin H will be pissed for a very long time - his dignity, you know. Btw, I'm adding, she was widowed back in the early 70's; my uncle died shoveling snow, and when she saw him on the ground, outside the living room window, she ran out in her slippers - first to him and then to a neighbor's house for help - losing one in the snow. It was found the following spring.

For many years, she was inconsolable. He had been the first of my parents' generation to die. She bought a puppy for companionship; it looked like a terrier, and was supposed to grow to that size. But, in six months, it was a big as a German Shepard and pooping all over her kitchen (so much for judging by the paws.) My dad helped her to buy a car; Cousin H was a real sweetheart about that too, as if my father didn't care about his wife's sister :roll: . Come to think of it, both of my parents battled him and his wife over the decades. My brother said, referring to our uncle, "He's been waiting patiently." I wish them both the best in the Worlds of God. I could just see them, playing pinochle with my folks and Frank & Annie - where they'll get the cards and pennies, I don't know.

Anyway, saw Michael yesterday. We went out to the farmer's market and they were closed. All of them, all down the road, from what it looked like. I didn't realize they would shut down like that. So, it was to Wendy's for lunch and back home he went. But we were all so happy that the roads were passable. We hadn't seen him since Christmas.

And so much for my no shopping year.

What's at Etsy? I wondered. Maybe just take a peek? I thought. What could it hurt? I said. Well, 25 bucks later, I've bought three Scottish brooches, set with real agates, and with one of them signed by an artist named Weiner. I've wanted one ever since I saw that portrait of Richard III, with such a one pinned to his hat. And they're a good size, too. Frailty, thy name is Sara. I can't wait till they get here :yay: .


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Another storm is breezing in today. Just what we need - NOT. Be safe and keep warm, joon-ams.



sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Jan 16, 2018 10:26 pm

We finally went out today.

The storm that came through late Sunday night, left a beautiful blanket of snow over everything - beautiful as long as you're not out in it.
But the property manager has gotten his act together, and our sidewalks and lot are well-plowed. My upstairs neighbor got stuck trying to back out on Sunday, so Renee and I tried to push from the hood. What finally got her moving was driving up onto the sidewalk, and reversing from there. That's what got us out of our space this morning; I got it on the second try.

So far I've done pretty well with the water drinking, etc. I've been keeping a bag of roasted almonds in my Tardis cookie jar, eating six of them at a time for snacks. I've been at this for a couple of weeks, with one main meal (with the Honey) and five snacks to fill out the rest of the day. The snacks, besides the almonds, are three slices of gouda on Ritz, or a Glucerna shake. But if I do those last two, it's only once a day for each. And I haven't needed a nap :/ . Not for the past three days. Very odd. But last night, I was so hungry that I made myself two sandwiches - one was a sort of grilled cheese (two pieces of toast with three slices between, and nuked for 20 seconds), and the other was about 1/4 cup of crunchy peanut butter between untoasted bread :paperbag: . O Lord, were they good! And I didn't feel like I'd spoiled my plan at all. That would be exactly how I'd feel in the past, but this morning, it's another day and it's like that never happened. I'm well into the day, and I'm on track.

Yesterday afternoon into the night, a car horn was blowing on and off in the parking lot. It was aggravating, and I did finally break down and call the police. After the first hour of this, I thought maybe it might be somebody in distress - stuck in the car, can't get out, maybe wounded by an arrow. In my younger days, I would go down and investigate on my own. But now, I pity anybody whose only rescue is me. You haven't seen me so you can't imagine :lol:, but the worse case scenario is that I'd need saving too. Anyway, our finest came to check it out, but that made no end to the beeping. Somebody was yelling at whomever to stop, but that did nothing to remedy the situation either. With any luck, that won't happen again today.

Well, I'm off to check the mail, and bring back a glass of water to my desk. Have a blessed rest to your day.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat Jan 20, 2018 5:47 am

You know, there are times when you try to do something good and you completely mess it up?

:paperbag:

We went out to lunch today. Every Friday, we've been going to Steak 'n Shake, and I saw this couple park around the side of the building.
There are four handicapped spaces, and all of them were taken when we got there. I could see that the man had Parkinson's, he had that mask-like appearance to his face, and she wasn't walking too well either. Neither had the help of a cane or a walker. So as I was pulling in just a few cars down from them, I thought that I'd pay back the kindness we were shown a few weeks ago.

Now I didn't want Duane to know; this was money that I budget for myself for haircuts and such. So when we went inside, I hung back, hoping to see the server that took care of us that day, but she wasn't there. I called Victoria over, gave her a twenty and told her that I really needed to keep an eye on my husband. Would she please put this toward their tab? Sure.

So, we eat. They eat. They are right across the aisle from us. And when I find out how much their bill is, I add the rest to the twenty - only I had to give it to another server. I told him that V. had the rest, and he assured me that he'd take care of it. Well, he'd gotten the $20 from V., gave it to the couple, and they left without paying.

*sigh*

Oh my God! Best laid plans. Well, I saw what happened. V. tried to catch them before they drove away, but couldn't. I felt awful, and said, "How do I make this right?" They just said, "It's okay - we've taken care of it."

I've done this before, but it was while going through the drive-thru. I'd take care of the person behind me - I've done that a bunch of times. But this is the first time I tried doing this. It's the last time too :lol: .

Oh well.


sara
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat Jan 20, 2018 10:05 pm

Well, I waited all day for my brooches to come. They were scheduled to arrive sometime before 8 PM, but now...

I'd forgotten how much I love/hate waiting for things to come. We live on the second floor, and there's a door that joins the two halves of the building. I lost my Beatle CDs because they were just outside my door. My upstairs neighbor picked them up and put them beside the door, standing up and leaning against the wall. So, I look and there's nothing there. My USPS account says they were delivered, but they're not there. And Rosemary says, Oh yeah. I stood them up next to your door. Well, I look, and they're supposed to be right. in. front. of. the. door. That's how you find them, immediately. You almost step on them, and they're on the carpet, right in front of you. She felt so bad, but didn't offer to replace them :lol: - I didn't ask her to either. But I did call Barnes & Noble, and said

I did express my concerns to the clerk who waited on me. I worried that they might get stolen.
And what were you told?
That I could only get home delivery. I was reluctant to get them if I couldn't just pick them up from the store (we drive past it four days a week, for cryin' out loud.) But I really wanted them...


They got the same story from their employee, re-ordered them for me, and I picked them up at the counter. They didn't charge me again, but I won't buy any more music from them, unless that policy changes. Anyway, I'm on pins and needles, refreshing the USPS home page, and looking to see if I need to run to the door. I've also deleted the bookmarks for ebay and Etsy - should have done that earlier. I can still look, but it's more work to type them in - not a lot, but some. I've got the brooches in there though, so that my seller gets her review.

Duane is making a family tree for me. I only know through my grandparents, and then, I don't know my grandmas' maiden names at all. I just sat down at his computer and typed in all that I had. It's sweet of him to do this; I'm still blown away by the DNA results.

I just finished listening to Radiolab. It was about surrogacy and how women in Nepal and India were being hired to gestate babies for couples in Israel. It's treated like a business, and the ladies get paid, though the outlay is some 12,000 dollars US from the couples.
The birth mothers only get about 5000 of that; for some of them, domestics, who make less than one US dollar a month, that's a fortune. But, it's not what at least one of the couples thought they should be paid - and having given birth to one very large baby boy myself - I concur. It was assumed that the pay would be much more, say at least 10 thousand. And in Muslim countries, the ladies' lives could be at risk from the self-righteous monsters who stalk their neighborhoods. I know I'm being harsh, but I have no patience with people who use their religion to control the lives of others.

Like at the Bazaar Ladies Luncheon this year. I found out that some of the money we made went to a Catholic organization that fools women into thinking that they're going into the clinic, when they're actually arriving at a place that will try to talk them out of it. Now, some hospitals won't perform abortions at all, not even therapeutic ones, and clinics are the only place to go if you need to end the pregnancy in order to save your fertility and/or life. I would never do it myself. My own philosophy is "Pro-life for me; pro-choice for everybody else." How so many people have so much time to spend involving themselves in the affairs of total strangers, I'll never know. Unless it's the ones with thirteen shackled and starving kids, good Christ. A nosy neighbor or two would certainly not have gone amiss there.

I, for one, can't imagine life without Mikey. I could never do it, even if I'd known about his disability ahead of time. It was my choice, and I'll be damned if anybody was going to tell me one way or the other. Like my in-laws. They told me not to have children because of Duane's brothers' condition. So we considered adoption - my sister even offered to surrogate for us. But we finally said no, because she wanted a daughter after three sons, and I was worried that the baby might be a girl. It would be too hard, and later on, we discovered that the Baha'i Faith doesn't support that at all. There's no real reason given that I can recall, but it's not that hard to figure out. It would be such a mess in the end.

Where was I? Oh, the surrogacy. Well, I guess I sort of covered it, didn't I? Yeah, I think I did. Anyway, it's after 5 PM and I'm ready for supper.


sara
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