Back From The Brink

           Every year or two I do the same thing, knowing full well it isn't going to end well for me.

(pun intended)

I work hard and I play hard.

I always have.

We finally moved into our forever home  here in Orlando about nine months ago.

I simply love it.

It screams 'Me'

I hit the ground(s) running and haven't stopped. I do all the yard work and wouldn't have it any other way. I appreciate the offer of help but am so meticulous when it comes to yard work, I get on their nerves.

Even more....

If you can believe that!!

I always dress to work in the yard just like I am dressed in the first picture of me above, in the lime green top and blue shorts.

Trust me, I also had on flip flops.

I don't mind working in the heat, but I gotta be as comfy and cool as possible...I still suffer from hot flashes.

I don't wear gloves, I just rip the weeds out or toss away the clippings by hand to be raked up later.

I've tried wearing work boots, hats and gardening gloves.

It's a miserably hot outfit to me.

I already wear one of those when I'm on the clock at work.

I want to be comfy at home.

Call me crazy, you won't be the first... or last.

It has been raining like crazy and my yards are blooming and booming like they're on herbal growth hormone.

I usually work four days a week, sometimes five.

On my three days off, I spend two of them doing the front back and both side yards.

On the days I work

I go to work around ten AM, get home around four.

I putz around in the house, feed and water the dogs and head straight out to our wonderful screened in  porch, or as they call it here, lanai.

(still not used to that word)

It has a pergola off the porch, and is an awesome place to chill as well.

How can you not  have a cocktail or two after a hard days' work?

I sit out there and write friends and family or blog on my iPad until eleven or so. Then I go to bed, get up...shower, rinse and repeat.

It's the yard days that got me.

I started feeling puny last Thursday after getting home from work and by Saturday after work felt pretty much like do-do.

By Sunday morning I knew I wasn't getting out of bed any time soon. Thank goodness I was off until Wednesday.

I'd be fine and dandy by then!

Then like an idiot, while scrolling through my phone while resting in bed, I see a Monday lunch shift up for grabs on our employee site.

My daughter told me to  not pick the shift up and stay in bed.

But an opening shift?!  I'd go in at ten thirty, be cut by one and back home in bed before two.

I took it!

By the time Monday morning rolled around, I felt like the dude in a black shroud with a sickle was close by, just waiting for me to try and get out of bed.

I got up and went in anyway...Mondays were always slow.

When am I going to learn?

I got to work, the bartender wasn't there yet, and our manager was setting the bar up. The first table walked in right before we opened. I had five tables going before the next server got there at 11:15. Then a ten top walked in. Then a six top. Then another six top. Then lucky for us, just a five top.

Oops, then another five top followed by two tables of four.

It was insanity and the insanity didn't stop until well after three o'clock. I was sweating like Trump at the Apollo Theatre in Harlem.

My sinuses were killing me, I had a fever, It sounded like a blender was going off in my chest when I inhaled and exhaled and my both ears were stopped up. My equilibrium was off and so was my timing.

I was a wreck but plowed ahead.

I apologized a lot and tried to stand as far away from the tables as possible so they couldn't see when the (luckily) clear snot began to trickle out of my nostrils.

I knew I wasn't contagious but really didn't think I should even bring up the fact that I didn't feel well.

I felt like collapsing.

But I didn't.

When my manager finally told me I was cut, I told them if they needed me I'd be on the floor in the dish pit.

(trust me, it's not a place to lay down)

Guess what time I clocked out from my little  Monday opening shift?

5:35 PM.

You usually sell around $300 on a Monday opening shift. 

I sold almost $1100.00 and by the Grace of God made almost $250.00 in tips.

I fell into bed around six on Monday night and didn't get out of it until Wednesday morning.

Massey brought me home day time and night time medicine when she got home from work and I gobbled it up. I've been taking it every four hours since then.

Tim let me vegetate and slept in the spare bedroom Monday and Tuesday.

Ziggy went with him...

that's how bad I looked, felt and sounded.

We had a bad storm blow across the lake on Tuesday morning, knocking out the cable, Internet and Wifi before noon.  I just stayed in bed, slept and stared at the wall while I was awake, then flipped and stared at the other wall after I woke up again.

The cable, Wifi and Internet stayed off until Wednesday evening.

It was kinda nice being so quiet inside the house that I could hear the crickets and frogs outside the house.

I went into work today feeling a little shaky but 99.9% better.

I'm not sure why I refuse to take better care of myself, but think I'm finally catching on at the tender age of almost sixty.

I got on the scale this morning after getting out of the shower and found that I'm back down to a ninety eight pound weakling.

I'll be back to  triple digits in no time!

You learn from mistakes. You'd better, especially at my age.

I took a licking but that clock's still ticking.

I wanna enjoy the home stretch as long as I can.

Everyone was so nice to me while I was feeling poorly. My family was, my neighbors were and all checked in to see if I needed anything. My managers and coworkers were super supportive as I bumbled my way through that horrifically long (controlled chaos of a) lunch shift.

Even when I'm sick, I'm blessed!

Till next time...COTTON

Our Very Merry

It was our first Christmas in the new house.

Finding Your Right Path

It's been an exhausting couple of months, but in a good way.

 We finally found the home, here in Orlando...

And are all moved in.

All the furniture we left behind in Georgia is moved in, along with the entire contents of a huge rented storage unit we've had packed to the gills for over two years, and even the contents of our tiny (not so) temp rental house.

It was no small feat.

With help from friends we basically moved everything in the matter of two days. The  (two car) carport was filled with our things and boxes and  so was the two car garage beyond that.

The detached garage in the side yard is full of left over furniture, book shelves, and future projects to eventually make their way into the actual house.

Behind this garage/workshop is a utility shed big enough for my Johnny Dear, all my yard tools, and two of Johnny's buddies if any happened to drop by for a visit!

Every yard, front, back, both sides and anywhere you look, even from a window  is a tiny slice of paradise.

Massey has a nice screened in  side porch off her bedroom...

with this view.

This is the corner view of our lot, from our side yard.

Really?!

 A tree hut (ladders nailed to the trunk) with a perfect view of sunset over the lake, across the street.

Every yard boasts a different garden or place to explore.

Stone pathways line the way from front to back.

Can hardly wait for it to get warm enough to make this screened in porch, complete with Tiki bar, mini fridge and two ceiling fans, Muh She Shed!

Even the view from the street is almost stunning.

From the front yard, is a most inviting view, and exactly what I've always wanted.

The vines in the massive Live Oaks look like ones Tarzan could swing from.

Cold snap?

No worries, we have an awesome fire pit!

We could never shut our blinds, and still be unseen in our house, from neighbors, or the street!

 Only because of the fact that it's almost 2019,  I unfortunately feel compelled to close them every night after dark to deter any Crazies (which mean people crazier than me) who may happen upon us, especially with Tim working out of town sporadically. 

We always have one pup out and one pup in, for constant  all round protection.

Ham has the most seniority so he mostly gets the inside gig...

and has found his fourteen year old Forte'.

No worries... Ziggy is happy as a pig in slop, in his new (literal) digs.

And for me?

I'm the happiest pig in slop round these parts.

If I never have to pack a cardboard box again, it will be too soon.

This is us now.

It was an almost ten year journey I wasn't real crazy (small pun) about making, but ended up being a most valuable lesson for all of us.

Life is what it is.

Roll with what you got, and hope it gets you what you need.

There will hopefully be more peaks than valleys from here on out, but you simply never know.

This house was an enormous leap of faith for us, and as Tim pointed out more than once, if God didn't want us to have it, He wouldn't have brought us this far.

You can be in a place in your life one day, minute, or second, that feels like you are at Disney World at the front of the line for your favorite ride, then just as suddenly that same world shifts...or tilts, everything changes, and you're at the very end of the line.

My advice?

Be a good person, no matter what.

Not because something could happen, but becuse it's the right thing to do

 After almost sixty years on this earth, have found that more times than not, good things happen to good people...

And good people who are dealt bad hands, will always have an army of loyal friends at their back to help and cover the losses best they can.

My goal in life?

Wishing each and every one of you a wonderful Holiday Season.

Til next time...

COTTON

Oh Ziggy

Oh Ziggy...

My Lil' black and white, Houdini.

You were always the problem child but had personality and a smile that could make anyone's day. You chewed up four remote controls your first month with us, followed by knocking down our twelve foot Christmas Tree on Christmas Eve and chewing up the lights.

You could jump a five foot fence like it was a baby gate and often did.

We thought maybe a peep hole would keep you satisfied, it did the other two dogs.



Then there's the time we found you in this picture posted on Facebook after searching the woods for over four hours,

 after you jumped the back fence. The nurses at the elementary school half a mile away had you with them in the school office. You were always seemingly trying to escape a concentration camp...when in fact you lived a phat life in an over half an acre fenced in perfectly great yard with plenty of food, water and even a house where you were encouraged  rather than merely allowed, up on all beds and couches.

Once we had you neutered, your wanderlust faded. Guess those really were 'bouncy balls' you had.

You haven't tried once to jump the fence in our tiny yard in Orlando which is not even four feet high.

 You've been to the beach and were real intrigued by God's huge water bowl.

Sure didn't do much for your thirst though.






All our dogs have been and are, good dogs. They all have different stories and are as varied as my own three human children.

We still miss Ole Charlie, Sir Charles, Chally Boy, Chally Too Fat, Scar Face and about ten other nick names. In hindsight, fourteen years is an excellent run and his life should be remembered as a celebration of that.

Ham's number's up next, he'll be fourteen this year, but when it happens will also be thought of as a celebration of a good, long life.

-

The reason we invested all this money in Ziggy's surgery is that he only recently turned six, still feels and  acts like a puppy and should  be around for quite a few years. to come.


It hasn't been his favorite thing to ever happen to him.

This was over a week after surgery. Two more scars on the other side.

He adapted well (considering) and after a shaky couple of days, rebounded. Everything is healed but about one inch part in the middle of that hugest scar. The one spot he could reach turned into a lick fest every time we weren't watching him. The hard plastic cone was like coming at him dressed in a "Dog Catcher" uniform holding that pole with the wire noose on one end. The city of Orlando where we live didn't have one size large blow up 'no bite' collar so went with the cheapest next, which was a size medium for twenty bucks.

Ziggy is about as medium sized as I am.

Anyway, it worked great for a few days until he finally figured out exactly where he had to get that collar clasp around his neck to be , so he could still lick that one inch  wound with that white Cool Whip (freakin' antibiotic creme) he just couldn't get enough of, he'd even lick it off the dog bed. Problem is, it made him sick.


Idiot.


I was supposed to take him back for a wound recheck the other day but  has healed so well (thanks to the small cone) knew the Vet would just say, "Great job, Ms. Cotton! Just keep on doing what you're doing and we'll see Ziggy back here once he finishes all his medicine. That'll be thirty five dollars; you can pay at the front desk."

I called and say I had to reschedule for the following week.

I also bumped up my game since I was already taking shortcuts again. I knew he had healed pretty well (because we busted our asses taking care of him after that surgery) and with vigilance would recover just fine. The right size collar and the wound would be gone in less than five days without him licking the medicine off.

 I went in search of a bigger inflatable collar, meant for a dog his size. I went to five stores; none had large and only one had extra large.

I bought it.

Forty bucks.

Dammit.

Of course, he weighs over eighty five pounds so maybe I should have gone for extra large from the jump.

It's just that extra large one had that extra large price tag, but I got it. If you're gonna get 'em well on your own, that last step of the way...do it right.


Ziggy about lost his mind with the right size collar on. He couldn't even see the part of the scar he wanted to lick. He could feel that creme on there after we applied it. He could sniff it. He knew it was back there. He knew he really wanted it. At least he could see it with the little collar. He stood in the middle of the room for twenty minutes not moving...obviously pondering this new twist (and complication) to his recovery, his way.

He scrubs the doorways, couches and beds. He's like a freight train with his big new bumper. Its thrown him off balance, us one upping him.

He wanders around like a dude who was stripped of his Mo Jo, or at least his "Dog" card. He gets creeped out about settling down, kept me up all last night, pacing the floor and wouldn't lay down. Not licking that wound was driving him nuts...and it showed.

But at least we haven't had to apply that creme more than twice a day and stays visably on there the entire time. The wound is down to under half an inch wide and healing up 'pinkishly.'

I put the vet appointment off until this Monday morning so Tim can finally go with me again. I get nervous when that office is full of dogs all yapping at each other. My dogs aren't yappers but sure perks them up when the heard all that ruckus. Zggy pulled me down the last time when we were in the exam room (luckily alone) and two dogs out in the lobby seemed to be having a growling pissin' contest.

I could let Tim take him and stay at home  but know the vet is going to be very impressed with Ziggy's often hard to come by progress and how well he's done; he should at least commend us for our efforts before sending us to the lobby window for another office visit payment.

That's right. I want MY credit.

I'll say Tim helped some too.


Pretty sure tomorrow will be the last visit unless we need those couple of staples to stay in for a bit.

It took Ziggy about two days to finally get the drift that he's stuck with the right size inflatable collar now so may as well get used to it...and kiss that 'lickfest' good bye.

And he has.

And he has healed.

And just like that, Ziggy looked even better the next  morning. Tim suggested calling and moving the appointment (yet again) for his recheck until the following week. I agreed. They've (the vet) most probs caught on to us by now but pretty sure they know we are taking Ziggy's getting well seriously while at the same time trying to save a buck.


It happened for us at a good time. It happened when we were caught up financially  (also something to celebrate) and at a time when someone would always be at home to take care of the patient. I better be in Ziggy's will.


Tim and I are also super excited that late next month we'll all (even Zach) be on vacationfor a week together in the Keys. None of us Clampetts have been there. My brother is going and taking his boat. My sister, her husband and hopefully their boys, spouses and significant other can make it as well.

I get chills every time I think about this trip.

Talk about a "Sit right back and you'll hear a tale" moment?!!

I'm taking a coconut in case we need to make a radio or something.





I'm finally getting used to not feeling like a failure anymore. It's a different feeling.
It's  a reassuring feeling.
It's a good feeling.


I am so down the line on why all this goodness happened to us, but sure am glad they haven't kicked me out of the dance yet.

I think I still look pretty good...

Don't you?



I'm finally feeling back to my old self again after being sick for what felt like forever. Bonus points am also up to triple digits on the scales, even without my Danskos, for the first time in over five years.

I got this now, thanks to my past.


Til next time...COTTON