It’s no chore for me to blog every day and here’s a definition of “chore.”
My husband, Michael (who does almost all the chores around here) and I sometimes discuss what chores we dread. He dreads the chore of taking out the garbage and I dread the chores of being on call at work, doing our taxes, and testing my blood every other week because I take the anticoagulant Coumadin. We both dread the chore of taking either of our cats to the vet.
Last night, I asked this question on Twitter:
I phrased the question that way because a few people have let me know that they find my Twitter questions a chore. I look forward to reading all the answers to that question, which will be no chore at all.
My niece Julie McGrath has said this about chores: “Try changing I HAVE to do this to I GET to do this!” Using Julie’s advice, I’ll say this: I get to check my blood INR today!
I also get to share all these quotes about chores with you, plus other random images.
Today I get to celebrate National Love Your Pet Day, which is no chore at all.
If it’s no chore, please leave a comment below.
Now I get to express my thanks to all who get to do chores and who read my blog, including YOU!
Today, September 1, is National No Rhyme (Nor Reason) Day in the USA.
I started looking at and sharing National Days some time in July, and this is the first day where there seems to be no rhyme nor reason for any of the designations. Why do we need a day for any of these? There seems to be no rhyme nor reason.
Also, every other list of National Days I’ve seen has included some kind of food or drink. Therefore, when I ask on Twitter how people are going to celebrate the precious day, there seems to be a rhyme or reason for that question. For example …
Actually, the more I think about it, No Rhyme Nor Reason Day seems like the perfect day for me to head back into the hospital, since the nose balloon that we hoped would fix my cat-claw-Coumadin nose bleed doesn’t seem to be working. When things don’t work, it can seem like there is no rhyme nor reason to anything. Also, National Burnt Ends Day seems appropriate, since they’ll probably cauterize the end of my nose, where our new kitty Joan scratched me three nights ago.
Maybe there seems to be no rhyme nor reason for me to be writing this blog at 3:45 AM. However, I’m distracting myself because the Ear Nose Throat on-call doctor I spoke to on the phone at 2 AM suggested that I wait some hours before coming in to be seen. The Emergency Room at my hospital is all filled up, she said, and it would be better to wait until 5 AM to show up there and even better if I could wait for my scheduled 10 AM appointment in the ENT clinic.
Maybe the doctor thought there was no rhyme nor reason to my disappointment and discouragement about the balloon not solving the problem as we had hoped. I tend to catastrophize and assume the worst for no rhyme nor reason, and when I expressed my worst fear — that the doctors would not be able to fix this problem for me — she seemed to think there was no rhyme nor reason to my despair.
For no rhyme nor reason, just writing those words is helping me feel better, here and now.
For no rhyme nor reason, I can’t load more images from my phone for this blog post, so I’m going to switch to my laptop to finish creating it.
Is there no rhyme nor reason for these images in today’s post?
Sayings like “We grow through what we go through” help provide some rhyme and reason, don’t you think?
As we enter into the unknown of another day and another blog post, I will tell you that the theme of the 2018 Edinburgh Festival Fringe is “Into the Unknown.”
I especially like that cover photo for “Into the Unknown” because many of my known photographs include my feet, like this one:
That reminds me that I went into the unknown yesterday with my son Aaron and his friends to try a highly recommended macaroni and cheese sandwich in Edinburgh, wearing my macaroni and cheese socks. Photos of that sandwich and other Edinburgh meals will remain unknown to my readers because my son extracted a known promise from me that I do NOT take pictures of food when I’m with him and his friends.
Before this visit, my son Aaron’s Edinburgh friends were unknown to me. They are unknown no longer.
That drawing of Aaron’s friend Jago was done by his known and long-time friend Cameron, who is known to my readers.
The known Cameron is on the right and the previously unknown Jago and Michael are on the left. When we went into that unknown grocery store to get spinach, which I’m known to need because of my known heart condition and medication, it was unknown to us that no photos were allowed there. The security guard told us that unknown rule so we would know not to take more photos there.
I hope it’s known to you that I’m known for taking photos everywhere I go as I venture into the unknown.
Those last few previously unknown photos show us going into the unknown of the amazing Neal Portenza’s latest and (I hope!) NOT final Edinburgh show, despite his poster.
I plan to be going into the unknown of more Fringe shows today.
Do you know what helps you find the courage to go into the unknown? For me, it’s known that blogging helps a lot.
Now let’s go into the unknown of today’s blog post ending.
Yesterday, in a therapy group, I randomly picked this “angel card”:
We all have power. Soon, I will be taking on more power as the President of a professional group therapy organization. I hope to use that power well.
A few days ago, I noticed that the cafeteria in the hospital where I work had stopped including vitamin-K-rich spinach in their salad bar. Because I take the powerful medication Coumadin. I need the power to control the amount of Vitamin K in my diet, and I usually do so by taking the same amount of spinach every day from the salad bar. I owned my personal power and asked to speak to the person who had the power to decide what items to include in that salad bar. She told me that the hospital had decided to feature local produce and had replaced the spinach with locally grown kale. I told her about my taking Coumadin, which is a very common drug, and explained that kale had too much vitamin K and that I can’t eat kale. As I was explaining all this to her, these were my powerful thoughts, “Why am I doing this? I don’t have any power here. They’ve already made this decision. I’ll have to figure out how to regulate my vitamin K a different way.”
The next day, I saw this at the hospital salad bar:
Sometimes we have power even when we think we don’t. The powerful moral for me: keep speaking up, because maybe somebody is listening.
Do you see power in my other photos from yesterday?
People have the power to decide whether they want their pictures taken. My son Aaron was okay with that last night (and Michael wasn’t).
The ocean has the power to heal, I believe.
Today, Aaron and I will be experiencing the power of “West Side Story” at Boston’s Symphony Hall. I never get tired of the power of that score by Bernstein and Sondheim and I’m glad that YouTube has the power to provide the musical clips I need for this blog (here and here).
I look forward to the power of your comments, below.
I always end these daily posts with the power of gratitude to all who help me create them and — of course! — to YOU.
I need to summon my strength for a very early morning flight to Houston, so I choose to summon this pack of tissues.
I need to summon my strength because I am
in pain from tearing my rotator cuff,
meeting new people,
traveling to an unfamiliar city,
presenting about my therapy groups,
on the medication Coumadin and needing to maintain a therapeutic INR with a consistent diet, and
homesick in advance.
I summon my strength by
sharing my thoughts and feelings, and
taking pictures of my surroundings.
That message on the Paramount Theater in Boston summons my strength to remember that we are home no matter where we are in this world and that I’ll be attending a two-day therapy group in Houston titled “Longing for Home: Past Attachments and Reparative Re-Attachments.”
I also summon my strength by going to great musicals with people I love.
those same three women met for the first time at the same exact place two years ago?
this blogger, who likes to refer to her old posts, would include a link to that prior meeting here?
my son, after attending several Fringe Festivals in Edinburgh with his mother, would apply to the University of Edinburgh and get admitted to a 5-year program in Mathematics where they probably discuss probability and odds?
Yesterday’s move entailed many moving experiences, which included:
The piano I’ve played since childhood dangling from a crane as it moved down to the street,
Our cat Harley moving with desperate panic away from the movers into the basement, where he refused to move,
Our cat Oscar cooly moving among the movers as if he owned everybody and everything,
One of the movers showing us a picture of his cat,
My being so moved by my piano landing in our new place that I cried,
Realizing that none of the refrigerators at the new place were working and my moving to call a repair place,
Moving back to the old home to fetch the cats,
Harley moving a solid door to escape into the crawl space under the roof TWICE,
Aaron and Michael moving around the crawl space to find Harley, who did not want to be found or to be moved,
My inability to locate my heart medicine after we moved,
A pharmacist movingly giving me a free dosage of Warfarin/Coumadin for the night,
Harley moving under the couch at the new place and then not moving anywhere else,
Oscar moving around the new place like he owned everything and everybody, and
Loving the water moving outside our new home.
Now I have to move myself out the door for an unfamiliar commute to work, but not before I move some moving pictures here:
Here’s a moving song about going home by Sam Cooke:
Feel free to leave a moving comment about any moving experiences.
Moving thanks to the wonderful movers from Prime Q moving company, the CVS pharmacist who was moved to give me my dosage of Warfarin, and to you — of course — for moving yourself to my blog, here and now.