The last stitch

So I decided to do some knitting recently. As a knitter all my life, I have a considerable stash of yarn and knitting needles. 

Vying for my attention are a large assortment of crochet hooks, needles, cottons of a myriad of colours, embroidery cottons and buttons. 

Dragging my knitting bag out of storage, it was like a greeting of old friends. I have been knitting since the age of 6 when my grandmother taught me both to knit and crochet.

We have 15 grandchildren and 2 great-granddaughters and I made my customary jacket, booties and bonnet set in blackberry stitch for all of them- except the little great-granddaughter. Goodness knows, I tried to make her a mint green shawl that her mother had requested, but halfway through, it got too heavy and I had to abandon it.

I refused to be beaten and decided to do it in squares, but alas, my deformed arthritic fingers could not manage to crochet. We moved out of the RV and with plenty of time at home, I decided to give knitting a go again.

As I cast on for a little jacket, I suddenly was overcome with tearing pain and searing muscles, and my fibromyalgia screamed, "Enough! How dare you think you can enjoy yourself by being creative!?"  Tearfully, I put the wool and needles down, went to the kitchen and took some paracetamol.

I rummaged through my knitting bag, the memories overwheming me. Leftover wools from all the previous baby clothes I had ever made, a remnant of the shawl I commenced but couldn't finish and buttons- every colour and all the same little pearlised look. 

A haunting memory of the endless baby jackets over the last 54 years of expecting children then grandchildren assaulted my brain, leaving me with a certain sadness for happier years and then years gone by so quickly.

Fibromyalgia and chronic pain have taken away so much from me, and it was hard to put that bag away again. But I will keep it to remind me of happier times when my muscles didn't hurt just keeping my arms up to knit or my neck didn't feel like it was breaking as my arms moved in quick rhythm to the casting on. 

I know this probably isn't blogging material, but I think we Sacrificial Home Keepers need encouragement. So, enjoy what you can still do, because with fibromyalgia and other chronic illness, we never know when it will be the last button we sew, letter we will handwrite,  or like me, what will finally be the last stitch.

With tea, morphing I am

So just as I thought my domestic problems were over, I was informed that my home help will not be coming until the current Covid 19 restrictions are lifted. 

I am now without any help in the home and it has deflated my spirits. It's understandable with Victoria being in Stage 4 lockdown that it would happen. I get that. But it's just one more thing to add to the drama of Covid 19.

In order to keep our home in some semblance of order, I am going to use Sylvia's Lists and FlyLady

My fibromyalgia flare has gone a bit and I have a few spoons, but I still need help with cleaning the bathroom and doing my floors. It is not to be.

With staying at home restrictions, I am seeing the need for help materialise on a daily basis, and there's nothing I can do about it. Certainly getting Covid 19  because my house needs a clean is just not worth the risk.

So I sit ruminating and quietly sipping my tea and morphing into a Baby Yoda. Or something. Yes, with tea, morphing I am...

And Baby makes three!

 

For the first time in ages, I have a few spoons and I have been having a few days of respite from my fibromyalgia flare.

It is forecast to rain over the next few days, and the weather is cold, so I probably will find this respite all too brief. But, we live in hope.

I have been taking stock of our pantry and fridge because many abattoir workers have been taken ill with the virus and only one abattoir in Victoria remains empty. Which means that there will soon be a shortage of meat and in particular, mince.

Also here the Covid cases are mounting fast and we have been given stay at home orders. So I will be doing my grocery shopping online. I want to make sure I rotate the food we have and don't over buy on things. So that is my plan for today.

I have some bread dough proofing and I will bake that for tonight. I will be serving crumbed fish, mash and salad with it for dinner.

My washing and dishes are up to date and that makes me happy. In fact, I am very happy up here despite the quarantine.

I love our home here in the country and I feel very happy and grateful to God for giving us this home. If one has to be under lockdown, I can't think of a nicer place to do it.

Xena is happy here as well. It's been cold lately but we have turned the heater off as the sun comes in the back sliding door and warms the lounge room nicely.

Obviously not enough for Xena who spotted Chris's new Oodie on the couch, and so decided to make a little nest in it for herself. 

I have a pink one, Chris has a navy one. Best money I ever spent. We love them and it looks like with Xena, that Baby makes three! 

Kiss the cook!

So my fibromyalgia flare is abating, and I have a few spoons today. So I am planning to do some cooking this afternoon.

I am planning to bake some bread, some sugarless cookies for Chris and a vegetable intensive stew for dinner tonight.

With chronic illness, I have seen firsthand how cooking from scratch and making nutritious meals extends our lives. 

My mother was a good cook. When her brother who lived with her, had a stroke, he lived far longer than what the doctor guessed and it was due a lot to her plain but wholesome meals.

My step-father had emphysema and diabetes, and Mum always had good meals on the table for him. The day before he died, he told me that he didn't think he would live to 75. I replied that it's because of Mum's good home cooking! He agreed and said he didn't doubt that it was! 

So with our various chronic health issues, I always try to do the same and I also make sure we eat at least a couple of pieces of fruit. 

Besides, with lockdown on and nothing much to do, it's a good thing to have something nice in the oven and to look forward to your meals.

We only get one life and what we eat does influence our longevity! So I will always make a solid wholesome meal no matter how I feel. 

So far I don't have many complaints about my meals and I don't have to remind Chris to kiss the cook! 

Rona has found us!

We live in a little town in country Victoria Australia. We are in the perfect spot to shelter from Covid 19 or Rona as we call it.

We have under 500 people in total, a pub, a small police station, a small post office and a country shop. And a couple of quaint old churches.

Our town is so tiny that we don't have the postman call on us: we have PO boxes. So very little chance of Rona coming up here.

So you can imagine our shock and horror when we have found out that Rona is rearing her ugly head in our little shire! It's the one downfall of this pretty little town.

She is so pretty that people come here for a Sunday drive, and yes- even those who have tested positive for Rona! And they bring it from the large towns to us.

So bad is the new infection rate in Melbourne that it has been put under stage 4 lockdown. We are following with stage 3 on Wednesday, and mandatory wearing of masks starting midnight tonight for us regional Victorians. 

We are more than over this but it is what it is. Chris and I are going to stay home, except for chemist and doctor if face to face contact is necessary. Although we have no children, we will be living along these lines. 

It's sad that it's come to this for Victoria, but it's necessary. We are the lucky ones living up here, but even so, Rona has found us! 

Another day at the beach!

So today I have been feeling so much pain with my fibromyalgia that I could cry. I am not a sookie-la-la type of person, but a body can only take so much.

I haven't achieved much indoors, in fact I have just done meals, checked our finances, fed Xena and done one load of washing.

My muscles feel like they are tearing-literally pulling and twanging when I stretch my arms certain ways. I am taking paracetamol every 4 hours, using the slow release ones for night time. My doctor doesn't want me on anything else...

I did wash and hang out my Oodie  and the weather was beautiful. This morning was so cold at only 2 degrees C. The water in the birdbath was frozen solid.  I am pleased to say that the Oodie is great these mornings- so great that I bought one for Chris as well.

We are in the throes of selling our fifth wheeler and tow vehicle. It needs to be cleaned inside as I have never been back inside it since coming here at Christmas. 

We are getting a lady to clean it for us, and we are going to get the GMC Sierra detailed. As the pain in my knee is now bearable, I refuse to go up and down those stairs one more time. I don't want to risk upsetting the meniscus tear again.

The sun is shining through the back sliding door. I am going to "the beach" again when I finish talking to you. This is the view I have and coupled with hearing the running stream you can see just beyond the fence, it is exactly like laying on the warm sand listening to the birds and waves...

The last one didn't make it home!

So this morning I am in my study checking my emails when I hear Chris talking in the nearby kitchen.

"So which of you is gonna be brave this morning?" he asks his upheld fingers as he searches for a digit that hasn't recently been jabbed for glucose testing..

They are all sore and he is running out of fingers... "Come on, Chaps! I want a volunteer!.... right then, You- step forward!"

I am giggling to myself because all my fingers are sore as well... but I stopped giggling when I heard him call out  "12.9!" -that's a high number for a fasting test.

Going to the kitchen to write it down in our diabetes diary, I asked Chris to retest it... sometimes the monitor needs recalibrating. 

I recalibrated it as Chris again studied his fingers. "I want another volunteer!.." I felt bad when the   result was still 12.9! All for nothing too with no need for the last volunteer  who didn't make it home. 

It's enough to drive me to drink!

So Friday I was talking to my new doctor about my back problems and asthma problems, my blood results and consequent treatment. My cholesterol and sugars were good as was my thyroid thanks to Thyroxin tablets. 

My uric acid levels were good, which they should be with me on medications to stop making kidney stones. And the conversation went like this: "Your uric acid level- have you always had high uric acid in your blood? No? well it probably is due to alcohol intake!" "Excuse me? I don't drink alcohol at all!" "Oh really? well- good: good! So it's just in your blood... OK!"

He was running through the blood tests which showed my liver GGT was unusually high. "Why do you think that is, Doctor?" I asked. "Probably too much fat or excessive alcohol intake!" "Ahem- I don't drink alcohol at all!" "Oh, yes. Of course!" 

I do not drink alcohol, but his reaction to my liver problem and high uric acid level annoyed me somewhat. I mean, if it was a problem, I would tell him so instead of worrying myself as to what it is caused by.

My blood pressure was slightly up which isn't surprising when I am meeting a new doctor. Especially one who suspects that his new patient is a drinker of the new wine! or casks thereof! 

So next we had a discussion on which diet program to follow as the fat lady with the drinker's pot belly needs to lose weight.

And right in the middle of a discussion of Keto and diabetes, I stopped mid sentence and lost my train of thought. Embarrassed beyond belief, I told him I was having a bad fibromyalgia day and it was just brain fog!

He just looked at me over his glasses and I could tell what he was thinking... it's too much imbibing of alcohol that does that!... 

Leaving the clinic with a handful of diet pamphlets and scripts, I asked Chris to drive me straight home. 

I headed for the kettle to make myself my favourite beverage- tea. But I swear I was so upset by the insinuations that I cried out to Chris's surprise, "It's enough to drive me to drink!" and it almost is! 

Nothing like a nana nap!

                                                     Nana nap

One who is not a grandparent but is prone to taking naps during the afternoon for 1-2 hours.  Urban dictionary...

"I had a nana nap this afternoon and now I am ready to party again!!"

I know I am not alone when I say there's nothing like a nana nap to help one get through a day of pain or trouble. 

There are some days when I cannot function without a nana nap, and then there are the rarer days when I don't need one. But for me with a fibromyalgia flare, a nana nap is not a luxury, it is a necessity.

A nap in the middle of the day has been proven to make one more productive, and in some countries such as Spain they close the shops and businesses in the middle of the day and have what is called a siesta. The Spanish equivalent of a nana nap.

I do find when having a nana nap, that if I oversleep I can wake up feeling sore all over and brain fogged, so I try to limit it to no more than an hour. More than that and I feel like I am starting the whole morning stiffness and pain cycle all over again.

I used to take a nana nap during my lunch break when I was working in an office. I just went to my car and laid down in the back seat for a while. Siri would wake me on my phone in time to collect my thoughts and freshen up before going back to work. If it was too hot, I tried to nap in the ladies room where they had armchairs and couches.

It isn't necessary to actually go to bed to take a nana nap; I find my couch aka "the Beach" works for me, or any comfy chair will do. Provided that I don't oversleep, a nana nap often kicks me on to cook tea these days.

Today I have just made our bed and cooked dinner. Chris and I just got ourselves something quick to eat for lunch. I just took advantage of our beautiful view from the couch and watched the clouds and the birds. I dozed a bit and felt well enough to cook tonight and to actually wash the evening dishes.

Often I run out of spoons for cleaning my kitchen, but my dozing paid off and so I reiterate that there truly is nothing like a nana nap!

In my dreams!

Ever since I was a young girl, I have dreamed of being an energetic housewife, baking and cooking from scratch. I would keep an immaculate house as well and my washing would be as white as snow.

Of course, I would iron everything that was on the line and my pantry shelves would be well organised with the spices kept in alphabetical order. And it was so for the first two years of my first  marriage.

But then much sickness came into my life, heralded by displaced discs and Scheurmann's Disease, and the dream evaporated as quickly as my energy and eroded discs.

This dream kept springing back in fits of discontent with myself and no small amount of false guilt. With the onset of heart disease, diabetes and fibromyalgia, the dream became a nightmare that taunted me. 

Perfectionism pointed its' knobbly finger at me, taunting me and demanding I try harder. It insisted that I find my worth in my homemaking abilities as a woman, and I was miserable as well as in pain.

It took until I was into my 20th year with fibromyalgia to realise that my worth as a woman was not on how well I kept my house. 

I decided to focus on the fact that God loves me just as I am and that helped remove the false guilt.

So now, in my 67th year, and my maladies worsening, I have had to put the dream to rest. I am never going to be the woman of my dreams. I have someone come to clean for me once every two weeks and I have learned to be grateful.

Only in accepting your illness can you find peace. Our womanhood is not only about keeping an immaculate house. And as I look at my clean house today, I am glad that we have the Aged care package that allows home care help. 

As I talk to you now, I smile at the irony: my energy comes through the woman who cleans, and my home is still clean. I have a maid in my later years- and that's something I thought would only come to be in my dreams! 

Today's lists of to do's are:

Make our bed

Do a load of washing

Fold yesterday's clothes

Make a sweet curry stew with rice for dinner