A Grimoire

Okay, so I listen to too much radio.

This is my playlist from the Sirius XM app on my computer. My favorites are on the top row. I listen to CNN in the afternoon because too much Fox gets repetitive.

The past year I’ve been hanging on 70’s music. It reminds me of my childhood, because I could remember the records and 8-tracks my mom used to buy. She let me pick the music to listen to while cleaning. I felt like an adult when I plugged in the 8-track of ABBA’s Greatest Hits and turned it way up.

Lithium and 1st Wave are my go to’s. After college and during college respectively. Lots of memories with Nirvana and R.E.M.

60’s Gold is a little far back for me, but mom used to listen to a lot of Motown and Elvis. Good thing my father didn’t notice, or didn’t care. (He listened to country and Ray Stevens.) 60’s music is coming back, or at least sampling it.

I discovered Happy Oldies and it’s one of my favorite stations. If you have the Sirius XM app, give it a try. You’ll say to yourself, “Oh, I haven’t heard this song in ages!” and crank it up.

I also discovered Turbo because they played Rage Against the Machine (I wasn’t much of a fan in college, but I liked them when I was older). Then I discovered Soundgarden and Godsmack and I was addicted to this station while I wrote the Grimaulkin and War Mage series. They’re a little angsty for that reason.

The others on the second row are only on the app, and I go to them if the top row sucks at that moment in time. The app will show you the song they’re playing, and even if I get in the middle of a song when I change stations, that’s okay.

So now you know my secret sauce when I write.

So. I have had more needles stuck in me for the past few weeks than I’d like.

My right middle finger kept sticking closed. (Into my palm. Not open or I’d have a lot of explaining to do.) Tried cortizol shots. No dice. Surgery was the other option. So okay, why not? I had to get clearance from my cardiologist because of heart issues, cleared by my endocrinologist, nephrologist, and PCP. This is what happens when you have co-morbidities–everyone has to put their two cents in.

Had the surgery two weeks ago. My hand was wrapped up in a soft cast, and I had it taken off on the 27th. Surgery is successful, although it messed up my head line with an additional scar.

My left middle finger is now doing the same thing. I can’t do anything about it, unfortunately, because that is the side my dialysis graft is on. According to the nephrologist, “It’ll never heal.” And, not to mention, blow up my graft if you put a tourniquet anywhere on my arm. I’ll live with it.

Meanwhile, I’ve been Ubering places. Even though I don’t have to worry anymore about maintenance and upkeep of my own vehicle, we get to ride in all kinds of nice cars and SUV’s (Tesla FTW, but could barely fit the transport wheelchair in its trunk), It’s expensive. There’s a couple of shelters I’d like to go to for cats–or a small-to-medium dog–but it’ll take me at least $25 on a one way trip to get to the local animal shelter. And I’d have to use the “pet option” which charges an extra $5-$10.

Hopefully, that will be the end of medical issues for me.

Okay, I’ll admit–this was a great book. A four star because I didn’t like the end. and the main character was way too smart.

This is the first book this year that I read without looking to see how much longer I had to read. I read John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War and it’s one of my favorites. He’s a prolific writer. I might pick up a few others of his.

The main character’s uncle leaves him with the family business. We learn about what it is and who is in charge (the cats, as they should be). The dolphins have read Marx and don’t want to be controlled. I was not going to be surprised if he had kamikaze dolphins. I’m sure Scalzi thought of it and said, “Nobody would believe that.” If he only knew.

This is in my read and liked pile.

Krimson passed over the Rainbow Bridge at 3 this morning. Right in front of me. He took his last gasp and just froze. It’s something I can’t unsee in my mind. I have regrets with this one; did I do enough for him? I also realized I have no emergency money. I really need to stop spending down to nothing. And stop taking out payday loans that takes up a third of my disability pay.

We had to Uber ($60 one way) because I have no car. Luckily–I mean, seriously lucky–my publisher sent me an advance to cover that and Krimson’s cremation. Again, no emergency money. I don’t know what we would have done if he hadn’t come through. Bury him in a shallow grave in the back yard? (That’s illegal.)

But that’s enough of the “what if”s that send me into a depressive spiral. I need to find a comedy to get me out of this. I’m reading Starter Villain by John Scalzi and it fits the bill. Review of that coming in a week or so.

We have no cats. It’s been years since I haven’t had a pet. My son wants a dog. I wouldn’t mind, but we don’t have the room for a big dog, and I don’t like small ones. Dogs are higher maintenance than cats. He doesn’t realize it.

My son considered Krimson his brother. He was so brave wrapping him in a blanket and putting him in the carrier. (This means a seizure is due so I have to be careful the next couple of days.)

So for today, I mourn. I already miss your cat butt in my face when I go to sleep.

DNF

I didn’t realize this was YA until I started reading it. I’ve read YA–and wrote it. They’re fast reads, so I decided to stick with it for a while.

Imagine contemporary technology used with an Egyptian backdrop? I had a hard time with that.

The writing is pretty good, crisp and tight. But it’s a female protag, a Romantasy element, present tense, and first person who seems to accept everything as it happens. These are red lines for me. When a mystery is added to the story, I didn’t care. Too much stuff going on, and I know she’s not going to solve everything in 80 or so pages. This was a good teaser novel for the first book in the series.

But I don’t have time for that.

I fell four times this week. Two were out of bed, and two when I lost my balance trying to feed the cat. One I went to the hospital for and they x-rayed my entire right side. No broken or fractured bones. The out-of-bed was because my mattress is too big for my bed. I have found that I can climb into my “big comfy chair” and once I’m there, I can haul myself into the chair and get up that way. My son is there to help by giving me a little push or using the gait belt I bought to lift me up.

All of a sudden, my legs now feel like lead, especially the right side. I can’t tell where my foot or leg is in space. I have to watch where I put my foot and leg because I run over my foot with the walker. Going up and down stairs scares me. Luckily I had someone put in a railing. And my son lifts me up when I go up the stairs. I lead off with my left, haul myself up with the railing, dragging the right leg up. Every time I take the stairs (which I have to because the bathroom , bed, and computer are there) I’m so scared of falling down them. So far, I almost fell down once when I missed a step.

I have a Life-Alert. I also have a button that rings in his room so he can come down and help me. What would be good is to have a house with no stairs! I was going to sell my house, but if I did that, I’d lose Medicaid for about three years when I spend the money I make from the house. I would flip it to a mobile home, but I can’t afford the HOA fees (the rent on the land). I could afford it at the 55+ communities, but then if something happens to me, my son would get kicked out.

So, yes, my house scares me.

This is a sad day.

I found out that an old friend of mine from the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism–Medieval Re-enactment group) died yesterday. The person who told me had just lost her husband a couple of months ago, and now it was her sister. Another friend just lost her 92 year old father a week ago.

Why these deaths hit me right now–Jon and Nora were both on dialysis. Nora couldn’t walk anymore and lived in Florida. Judy’s dad scares me because my father is getting up there. He’ll be 81 this year.

I’m not worried about their afterlife. It might be selfish of me, but I will miss them because I no longer can get to talk to them. That is what makes me sad. The Death card in tarot means a major change, a rebirth, That is what I believe. You go to the afterlife you expect. And then you come back. Maybe not here on Earth, maybe somewhere else in the galaxy or another time.

Pluto is also a planet of death. I keep trying to figure out if my husband’s chart shows his death day. You usually can’t predict death in an astrology chart. For example, my chart these last few years has Pluto in the first house, which, in some books, show hard times and come this short of saying death is predicted. At 102 years it may return to its position at my birth. I’ll be gone, physically or mentally, by then.

I think on my own mortality more often than not, at least since I’ve been on dialysis. Now that I’m no longer a candidate for a transplant, I’m stuck with going to dialysis three times a week for four hours at a time. Seven if you want to include the travel time when they bring me an hour early and I leave two or more hours after I come off the machine.

Their deaths mean to me that they live in my memories and dreams. I think of Jon whenever I want to be the curmudgeon, Nora when I see my SCA garb, and Dad–well I hope that he doesn’t go anywhere except back up here because if something happens to him in Florida, I don’t know what I’ll do. And my death? I can’t. I just can’t. I have too much work to do, people depend on me.

I said to myself that I’m not going to talk politics in this blog. I have Opinions ™ like everyone else. But I have no where else to put them.

I voted for Trump three times. I’m not a MAGA Republican, though I’m a registered Republican in a very, very blue sanctuary city. Don’t get me started about sanctuaries. Though I voted for him this last time, I now have buyer’s remorse. This guy is clueless.

I am an America First Republican. As soon as he went after Venezuela, I thought “foreign war, foreign war”. I agreed to pull out of NATO. I agreed even to kick out the UN. I agreed that Europe needs to put its two cents in. But as soon as he hit Iran, he lost all foreign credibility for me.

Domestically, even though I don’t have a car, gas prices effect me with higher grocery and Uber prices. Although I’m a Republican, I’m not Conservative. I’m not fiscally responsible and don’t mind the debt. I’m not Christian. I’m pro-choice. Although I’ve found myself at the end of sexual harassment (such as it is now), I’m not into the whole Me Too movement.

I think Progressives are just crazy. I don’t want biological men playing in women’s sports. And don’t get me started on trans in general–okay, so I’m Republican when it comes to that. I’m not sure of Socialism; since I’m relying on the government for my health care, I’d be a hypocrite if I said I was against it.

Speaking of hypocrite, back to Trump. There’s nothing we can do except attack at the ballot box. Even then, the people who are running are crazy left or Puritan right. No ICE? More ICE? WTF? Nothing in between, and that’s what ticks me off. All politicians are liars and cheats, out for themselves, especially Trump.

Who is clueless.

I’ve been pretty spiritual lately. First off, I’m a pagan, but not Wiccan. I follow the tenets of the Old Gods, of different pantheons as needed. For example, the above picture is my altar which is above my computer.

Apollo is on the left. He’s my go-to for healing and prose. Persephone for renewal, perseverance, and love or hope in the depths of despair in the middle. Thoth is for the discipline of writing (we haven’t had much communication lately). Between Apollo and Persephone is a tiny statue of Fortuna. It’s tiny because I can’t find a big statue of her that resonates with me. The brass censer is in the middle, and that’s where I do my offerings in the mornings or as needed.

Back to being spiritual. I want to give thanks fo the Goddess for giving me comfort and healing. Although my back constantly hurts, with Tylenol, it’s tolerable. Some days it’s more tolerable than others. Some days I have to lie down for a couple of hours to ease the stress on it. I thank the Goddess (and Apollo) for helping me realize when I need to stop and rest. “Self care” is one of those buzzwords that I never understood. I do now.

I thank the Goddess for giving me the blessings of my son. Yeah, some days, he’s a PITA. But a lot of days, he’s the best kid I could ever ask for. He helps me when I’m down, figuratively and literally. Yes, he had to pick me up off the floor a few times. He always makes me laugh, and he always tries to make me feel good. He worries about me, which keeps me going.

I thank the Goddess for the roof over my head. We were going to move, but it seems we’re stuck here because otherwise, I’d lose Medicaid. I would get a lot of money from this house which would go to a mobile home, but I wouldn’t be able to afford the HOA, or rent on the land. As it is, I can barely afford property taxes and house insurance here. So I have to deal with a 10-room colonial with stairs, and live on the second floor. It’ll cost an insane amount of money to fix this house: I need to fix the porch, the driveway, the floor in the bathroom, the second floor bathroom…dear Gods, this place needs work.

I’ve cracked open a some books that I read when I’m spiritual. Scott Cunningham’s Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner. The Koran. The Bible. DBT for Bipolar Disorder. A Jungian Reader. I try to meditate–try being the operative word. I’m too anxious to meditate effectively, so I end up falling asleep. I read more about Tarot because I’m always learning with those cards. (You all know how crazy I am about cards…)

To the world, I’m Unitarian Universalist. Whatever you believe, all the more power to you. Just don’t make us (my son and I) believe it too. Yes, my son is a Norse Pagan, and I’m so proud of that.