The Caregiver’s Tales: A Blog

The air is unsettled this morning. Pacific moisture, the remnants of Hurricane Polo, is paying a visit. There’s also a slow-moving cold front dropping temperatures and playing footsie with the tropical moisture. We’re in for a fun few days of wet cool weather. That’s fine by me. I have nowhere to go, and I want to dig, so the rain will make it easier. I could have soaked the ground with a hose, but I thought I’d wait for the rain. Lazy?

It took some effort, but I broke away from doomscrolling and picked up a book yesterday. I’d already made a start but stopped for some reason. Now I’m back and in the story. But my concentration has weakened, and the phone always beckons. I may have to start deleting apps, although that feels a tad extreme. After all, I’m an adult with a brain, so I should be able to self-direct.

This is closer to the old days. An early morning start, when the day is dark and nothing revealed. There’s a cool breeze and I can make out the garden spider hanging in its web. The little wren is safe in its nook in the porch post. Mama cat is fed, and the new tomcat ran off when a sound spooked it. Patience will win the day, of course, but that’s a story only time will tell.

I used to get up every morning, make my coffee, then sit down and write. These days, I make my coffee, then sit down and do puzzles. I like the NYT Mini and Midi crossword puzzle, Wordle, and Spelling Bee. Sometimes, I’ll even go sit and play my guitar. Then will come a point, as I’m doing now, where I sit down to write. And it will feel late, which it is. In the old days, I’d be done by now.

When I moved from the Gulf Coast to the Hill Country of Texas, I was greatly relieved to be rid of the threat of hurricanes and tropical storms. Now I find myself yearning for them because it’s one of the ways we get the big rains that fill creeks, rivers, lakes, and aquifers. I say this because it looks as though one might be heading our way coming out of Mexico of all places. Hurricane Polo.

Yesterday afternoon, as I was walking through the front room, I said, “I feel like a cup of coffee.” Then quick as a wink, I said, “But I look like a normal human being.” Then I laughed. Because some people might dispute the idea that I look like a normal human being, but mostly I laughed because I liked my own joke. And in your own house, it’s okay to laugh at your own jokes and the idea that you’re a cup of coffee. Although, truth be told, I laugh at them anywhere.

There was a roadrunner in my driveway as I arrived home yesterday. I took it as a good sign for no other reason than I like roadrunners, and I consider having one visit my home to be a good thing. It’s right up there with the foxes who come at night. And the tiny wren who sleeps in a nook on a cedar pole on my back porch. They’re little things and I’m accommodating them.

As anyone who reads this blog knows, I talk about what I’m doing and how I feel. On two occasions that sharing has proven beneficial. The first instance happened when I shared initial steps toward a possible surgery to repair my abdominal aortic aneurysm. A friend recommended a surgeon. That surgeon found I didn’t need the surgery at that time. So, I ended up with a more accomplished surgeon at a later date.