Today I managed 30 minutes of walking the hill, stairs, and everything in-between. I did Qigong and breathing, and listened to Dr. Noah. A milestone day - and I should be proud, but I am afraid to be. My body is telling me to stop. My heels are hurting worse each day. My back twinges are warning me it is on the verge of going out. I feel that familiar cumulative exhaustion building, the brain fog descending. Why do I always feel worse when I try to exercise??? It is so discouraging. I will talk to the Mayo doctor and see what he says, I guess. On a happier note, today marks 27 years of marriage for us. Our successful marriage is more precious to me than anything. It is my miracle from God, and answer to decades of despair, I am blessed beyond measure and so very grateful for my husband. We had a really nice dinner out with my sister and her husband. That might sound like no big deal to you normal human beings. But for me it's a huge deviation from the norm. I am not only a recluse, but you never see me out at night. Maybe once ever couple of years for something like this I'll ignore the tiredness, and rue the fatness as I struggle to find something that fits me, anything suitable for evening wear. For one thing my feet will not cooperate with normal shoes. I need squishy soled things that allow the painful bits a total cushioning. Hard hurts so that means my Dawgs plastic rubbery slide thingies. They are not pretty. For another I no longer own anything but PJs, jeans, sweats, and long sundresses. Partially because I don't work or go to church, or keep "polite" company. But also because we live out in the boonies on our 7 acres of woods with our 5-6 cats and chickens, none of whom care how I look as long and love me just like I am (as I'm cozy to sit on and feed them). With Sjogren's makeup is a thing of the past, my eyes can't take it and my skin repels any form of face makeup making it look like alligator scales with those tannish hued creases of gunk. It's so hard to fight feeling ugly, fat, and honestly, I am too weary to fully engage in conversation or with others. I am lucky if I stay up until 9. Then there's the low sodium, no sugar, reduced gluten (etc.) diet... So my point is doing that last night was huge for me, and it was very nice in spite of myself 🤣. 27 Years and Counting I wanted to repost something I wrote in an old, old blog. It is very long, and very romantic. It's the story of us. I tried to find all of the appropriate places to change the number of years. I may have missed a few. To read it, click "read more". I was going to write a post for today, January 21, 2022, and wanted to find the picture of us kissing that first night we met. I found this post (probably written after 8 or so years) and also found, well, I couldn’t say it any better. So in lieu of new – REPOSTING: ♥♥♥ Our Wedding Day Immediate and first recollections: The day we got married in Minnesota, January 21, 1995, it was about 15 below zero, raw and grey. I remember I was having panic attacks at the church I was so nervous. The basement where I got ready was freezing and it had the typical church-basement feel and smell. It was all so strange and unfamiliar. My “bouquet” of calla lilies was almost as tall as me. After the ceremony, we stopped for a toast at a little bar down the road on the way to the reception (which was held at Spanky’s, a bar where there were pool tables, dartboards, foosball, and so on). Strange venue for a wedding reception, maybe – but it was relaxed and fun (and inexpensive, hey, I paid for this myself!) We had a caterer, a DJ, kegs and a bunch of uncomfortable older relatives who probably thought, “a reception in a BAR???” or “this will never last”. Ha. A Bar for a Wedding Reception? In our defense, not only was it what we could afford, (other than the church hall and we were NOT about to have a reception some place where you couldn’t drink, smoke, listen to rock, and dance!), it was what we were into at the time; we were in a couple’s dart league out of that bar. Spanky’s was the place my daughter dragged me off to that first fateful night so I would get out of the house. She was trying to pull me out of my depression caused by the devastating break up nearly a year earlier from my almost-priest, the first “nice” guy I had ever gone out with. That story is below. Spanky's is where we met, my David and I. In front of God and everybody, this is where on that first night I fell unconsciously, completely, hungrily, wantonly into an all-encompassing David-kiss before climbing into the backseat of the car to be driven home by my daughter and her then boyfriend, Doug. That kiss was needed for way too long. Earlier that evening, before many light beers and dancing with strangers, Spanky’s is where I spotted my David and turned to my daughter and said “that is the kind of guy I want. I want him.” But I thought he was taken, all the more compelling, and safe. Did I mention he was wearing a purple tux and that he had just been best man at his friend’s wedding? I conversely, had been hanging curtains when my daughter spirited me away without even allowing me a chance to change. The Dating Game After that initial night came a time of excruciating first and early dates, the ‘getting back into the game” and “getting to know you’ stage. Going bowling with the insulating group of friends in tow, or clinking glasses of wheaty visen and slamming boots of beer (down thirsty throats and on wooden planked tables) in between shouting out “HOI HOI HOI!” at the Northeast Minneapolis German restaurant called Gasthof zur Gemütlichkeit. This landmark is where we over-indulged in shots of sweet Apfelkorn and snuff snapped at high velocity up our noses off the ingenious, spring-loaded, wooden snuff board. These were loud rowdy nights of screaming laughter, polkas, and drinking games, in a convivial establishment where the guy who made me ring the bells while he sang “My Ding-a-Ling” strolled amongst the tables and dirndled waitresses offered endless drinks of fun in a shot glass or who were more than happy to hit you up yet again with their menthol or regular nose-burning snoose. BOOT RULES
Arrested Development Let me back up even further and try to explain this wild behavior at age 40… I had Adrienne, my darling daughter, when I was 16. I married young and had two more children, my wonderful sons Collin and Jesse, by the time I was 22. It didn’t leave much time for growing up normally or doing the things one would do at that age. Back then it was like I was able to make up for my lost youth, my lost love, my lost time. This was a hazy almost frantic period of nearly-nightly mini-celebrations at favorite establishments followed by harrowing drives back to St. Paul from Northeast (or Nordeast if you’re a native) Minneapolis for late night/early morning burgers and fries, then home to my house, or to his, then up for work with a blinding headache and no clean clothes. The later was sometimes remedied by jauntily wearing a man’s suit jacket over a plain, white T – jacket sleeves rolled up. Pair this with the work-skirt from yesterday (as well as from last night’s revelry), hastily aired out in the dryer and smoothed against my alcohol poisoned, quaking legs, this was the strange and slightly desperate ensemble sometimes worn to my job at the Archdiocese. How did we survive??? Improvisation and luck, apparently. Of course inspiring mornings like these are what lead to bringing a change or two of clothes over, “just in case”. They are what precipitate absconding not only with his heart, but a drawer, a section of the closet, a place in the holder for one’s toothbrush, and the space for one’s car in the drive. Soon you are cleaning and simultaneously reorganizing his house, therefore redecorating a bit – small things at first, like getting him to move the cat litter box out of the dining room (EWWW!) Larger things (like his roommate) came later… That sounds sneakier that it was. Throughout our nearly 2-year dating period I told him right out loud I wanted to marry him. You see, I had no doubt about him or us, none. For me, upon seeing his sweet face, his tall lanky form, his blonde, blue-eyed self with the neat clothing and short, military haircut, for me truly it was love at first sight. When I saw him in uniform (he’d been in the Army, then enlisted in the National Guard) I honestly thought I’d swoon I thought he was so hot. I realized I’m not mentioning the other times. I could write a book of my early memories and the activities surrounding them there are so many, bear with me while I reminisce a while: ...Going to his parent’s house that first Christmas – they gave me a watch and Mackie perfume he’d picked out. Our first drive and stay up to the cabin (whoooo son!), playing endless rounds of “dirt” or other games with various friends, my mom, Adrienne, Doug, Steve…; all of us going to the Brown Derby Blues bar, singing karaoke at his mom’s 50th, him getting his “Clam” ice fishing shelter, excitedly setting it up in the dining room and then making plans to go on my maiden ice-fishing escapade. Him teaching me how to bowl or fish, how to drink beer in tomato juice for breakfast while fishing, being introduced to bachelor food like pizza rolls for the first time; Steve, David and me listening to head-banger music as we drove down to Mankato for the routine and designated Guard weekend. We had overnighters in St. Cloud (with his long-time Westside Lanes teammates from the Masters league) for a bowling tournament, his 300 game, his 300 ring. David explaining what a birdie, eagle, or bogie is, showing me how to hold a golf club, how to drive a boat for a skier, how to drive a golf cart; how it is to be included, how to trust and how to recognize love... That was us all of those years ago. I am crying for the joy of it as I write, remembering how I felt when we got married that day. I knew I had finally WON something, in fact, I knew I had won the grand prize. Maybe that is why I was so nervous on my wedding day, afraid the fates would be jealous and snatch it all away. But they haven’t, I think they are rejoicing too. Happy anniversary David, I love you. Our Wedding Dance YOUR LOVE AMAZES ME I’ve seen the seven wonders of the world. I’ve seen the beauty of diamonds and pearls. But they mean nothing, Your love amazes me. I’ve seen a sunset that would make you cry, And colors of the rainbow, reaching cross the sky, The moon in all it’s phases, Your love amazes me Don’t you ever doubt this love of mine, You’re the only one for me. You give me hope, You give me reason, You give me something to believe in – Forever faithfully. Your love amazes me. I prayed for miracles that never came, I got down on my knees out in the pouring rain. But only you could save me, Your love amazes me. Don’t you ever doubt this love of mine, You’re the only one for me. You give me hope, You give me reason, You give me something to believe in – Forever faithfully. Your love amazes me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=62okIG1DNB8
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Author's NoteThis is my personal journal as I navigate life. What I say is from my perspective, it is my truth. I realize the implications of this kind of honesty, it is risky. Welcome
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