Ggma’s version of Hide & Seek

30 01 2015

You’d think with all of my years of experience this would be no big deal.  Things go missing almost daily so I stop and prepare myself for getting into the “hunt mode”.  Those TV commercials about finding the wife’s keys in the fridge are such old news at this point.  At this stage we are talking about Hide & Seek v4.0.  I take my time and try not get rattled and remember it is just stuff (most of which can be easily replaced).

My chronically messed up sinuses look forward to a good bath each morning from a squeeze bottle netipot.ggmhs2 I used it yesterday – took it apart, washed it properly and left it in the sink to dry.  Or so I thought.  So this morning I microwaved the distilled water, added the saline mix and went to screw on the top…and…suddenly the top was MIA.  I had seen it during the day yesterday hadn’t I?  I looked in all the places I thought it could have gotten on its own – then I switched gears.  Freezer?  All kitchen drawers?  Bathroom?  Floor?  Garbage?  Under the microwave?  It was about an hour’s worth of hide and seek before I decided to just consider it another one of those mysterious vanishing things that will some day all be revealed.

My last resort is always to ask. Ggma gave me that blank stare like I was talkin’ gibberish…”What?  The black tip to a squeeze bottle with a straw kind of thing attached to it?  What?”  #($*0)@#%#&2 is what she heard.

Then I noticed the two week old wilting arrangement of birthday flowers.  Daily she will pull out whatever looks past gone, add more water and enjoy it for yet another day.  She’d moved it off the kitchen table yesterday when I was out picking up her prescriptions and put it on another surface.  I stepped closer.  Tucked into the lovely last days of the arrangement was exactly what I expected to find…ggmhs1

wish you were here…

30 11 2008

img_3923The sky is heavy with the threat of 4″ of snow today.  I know it is coming and I can feel it – enough years in the midwest have given me an internal sensor.  My motivation to get some things done today is reading three years’ of blog entries of someone I’m insanely jealous of (Tongue in Cheek).  Once I get done with my own scribblings, I will work awhile then read awhile…all day long.  She has blogged everyday for the last three years.  I want to be her when I grow up.  

So, I’m sorry I can’t be with you today but I am in the South of France.  All day.  I might be back tomorrow, but I can’t make any promises.

Our first trip to the French Riviera was a long weekend winter road trip from Madrid to Monaco.  Saint-Paul-de-Vence, the medieval village where Marc Chagall is buried was a must see.  The sweetest little hand painted pitcher changed addresses that day and still peeks at me from inside my alacena (cupboard or hutch) now 4,000 miles away from its original home.  Today it reminds me that travel enriches and heals my soul.  

I’m starting to recognize the pattern.  I need total escape days.  If I can just wallow here for a day or two, I’ll re-calibrate and find the necessary resources to get up again.  

Sometimes it comes in the form of a six back-to-back episodes of The Wire.  Or nine hours in bed…if you know me at all, you see red flags.  I’ve operated on very little sleep most of my life and insomniac episodes for months at a time.  But in these last months, it is my favorite time of the day when I am getting ready to enter that space. Deep, dreamless, dropping off of the edge of the world.  Knowing nothing between 11 p.m. and 8 a.m.

I can’t really do anything that requires conversations with anyone outside my tightest circle before noon when I’m here in the north.  After two or three cafe con leches and quiet computer time, I might get something accomplished by early afternoon.  It is now past noon, I’ll work a bit then treat myself to some more reading.

A perfect Sunday afternoon in the South of France…

coping mechanisms

22 09 2008


It was last December when I snapped this picture of Billy using one of his favorite coping mechanisms. When things got too overwhelming for him, he’d just take out one of the multiple “snot rags” he’d have on his person at any given time – hang it over his glasses and check out.  He knew what was best for his brain at the time. Having worked with many brain injury patients over the last three years – I understand some of the things that happened…too much light, too much noise, too much activity, too much stress.  A time out for the brain.

So after a good cleaning of the livingroom today and exorcising all the flu bugs – I went to Blockbuster and got season one of 30 Rock…just like hanging a snot rag over my brain.  There’s not much in life that Tina Fey can’t fix for me.