Wellbutrin Detox

 (Generally I’m not a fan of the overused term “detox” - my liver & kidneys are working just fine, thanks! but I had to slap a title on this post & it seemed descriptive)

I miss my old therapist Bill more than I can say at times - he really “got me”, or perhaps was just an exceptionally perceptive, empathic individual. But the poor man is dead, there’s no going back so all I can have are imaginary conversations with him. I couldn’t afford a big investment in therapy appointments either at this point, since I’m still skating along that financial cliff. Had a heart-stopping moment last week after I had authorized Kristy to pay some bills - I had overlooked the big payment to the loan sharks that goes through on the 20th! Thankfully she had not mailed those checks, so I was able to pull a couple out and will wait until the end of this week for the clinic account  to rebound from these things. I am watching every transaction with a mental high-five for every client who pulls out their credit card and pays their bill! Thankfully I don’t have very many who try to stiff me or beg for payment plans. I want to calmly explain that the grocery store or the utility companies don’t cut me any slack, & let’s not even talk about the taxes. With all I’ve been through, it has given me a new perspective with sympathy for these militiamen and preppers.

It’s some point I do need to see somebody about my ongoing shortness of breath and irregular heartbeat; I certainly can’t afford to go back to my concierge physician! At some point I think she got impatient with running tests on me which were invariably “normal”, and wanted me to fall back on antidepressants. I still have last year’s bottle of Wellbutrin, I decided to give it another go but the GI side affects are just intolerable to me. Bloat and a sluggish intestinal tract, verging on constipation with a constant, low-grade indigestion feeling. Many lose weight on it, but of course Not Me!!!

I gave it a three week trial, but I just threw the rest of the tablets away yesterday - I count these next couple of days as getting that shit out of my system. I need to sharpen up since I am supposed to judge the NATRC event this weekend. We had a mini cold front roll in last night but it’s supposed to warm up again this weekend after a couple of days of overcast skies with a little bit of rain.

Pacing Myself

 …is my main objective these days, both for getting through my average workweek as well as trying to accomplish a few things over the weekend. (I knew I felt a little shortness of breath this morning - checked my pO2 & it’s 93) Overdue for a hyperbaric oxygen treatment; that was one “chore” I haven’t managed to fit it recently!

I rolled out Saturday morning to go meet my friends at Lake Whitney and we had ourselves a beautiful trail ride - it was a perfect spring-like day. (A couple of the ladies had camped out Friday night; I thought about hauling to meet them, but after a busy double-booked schedule on Friday I wasn’t pushing myself -you know, “pacing” and all that!) I’m so far behind on the Facebook riding challenge (Haven’t. Ridden. In. SEVEN! WEEKS!!) but I have enjoyed skimming everyone else’s posts. No wonder I’ve been feeling terrible!

Yesterday, duty called as I got my mom showered (it’s been about 3 weeks) - she was getting kind of ripe! then got her down to the dining hall for lunch. Her appetite is still excellent. My reward was then going to see my son, and we got Mila the Burmese python fed… Mila’s almost 4 yrs old, about 10 ft long & weighs 26 lbs. that doesn’t sound very heavy until she’s been hanging on your neck and shoulders for a while!

My ex had an extensive collection of snake books, and one which I remember fondly I think was simply titled “Giant Snakes”?? but it documented the author raising his own Burmese python while describing facts about the other species. I need to try to search out a used copy - we have not been the greatest about documenting Mila‘s growth and development, but she’s a pretty amazing animal. Fortunately she seems to be completely recovered from last summer’s bronchitis/upper respiratory infection - she got chilled when Zach was in the process of moving from Mesquite to the Irving house. She also scarred her nose being confined to too small of a cage; that has also healed up nicely. I will post recent pictures when I get a chance to download them, but last year the Mesquite pet store had "Santa pictures" and they were thrilled to handle Mila…

                        We had about a dozen riders show up; couldn’t have asked for a better day!

Poker Face

 (I tried to watch that TV series which was so “highly-rated” - highly hyped is more like it! - but I found the main character annoying; couldn’t even finish the premiere)

Anyway, my reference has nothing to do with popular entertainment - I refer to the Gottman marital therapists’ discussion of “bids” for your partner’s attention/affection. I’m obviously NOT a poker player - I believe in straightforward honesty and I’ve gotten MUCH better over the decades about not expecting romantic partners to read my mind or otherwise anticipate my needs. Basically I’m a simple cowgirl: if you help me around the farm, feed me occasionally and give me some affection, I will be content. I cringe away from these recent “tests” that women (actually, girls! they’ve obviously got a lot of growing up to do!) devise for their men…

But I’m obviously failing miserably with my own husband - yesterday morning I was so overwhelmed after another damned night of insomnia. I could not peel myself off the mattress below the weight of my existential dread at all the things I need to do. I have compared it to that towering tidal wave in the Interstellar movie: slow-motion, unavoidable disaster is approaching, yet I am slogging through molasses trying to escape it. Is it worthwhile to keep struggling or should I just give up?

Anyway I called Peran to come lay beside me & talk me off the cliff. It was fairly underwhelming and after a while (several failed attempts at Communication), I have had the sick, nagging feeling that I am exposing my soft underbelly to a potential enemy. This morning his alarm went off at 6:10 AM - I asked him what was up with that, but he just shrugged. As soon as I came in the door from the barn, he was heading upstairs - it doesn’t take a genius to notice the avoidance behavior. 

I just wish I could skip through all these hard parts and discern some sort of goal? I do have an offer on the Mesquite house - it’s about $20K less than what I had hoped for, but my bad for missing the peak of the real estate market - at this stage I’ll take what I can get!

The Usual Suspects

 …were concentrated in one corner of the living room yesterday morning: the “obstacle course” develops more often in warm weather, when the dogs are sprawled out in various locations across the floor.

(Tulip was on the couch, while Willow was curled up on the massage chair)

But this morning, Izzy is curled up like the little concentrated lap warmer that she is - so cozy to be here with my cup o’coffee! I am trying SO hard to be “mindful” & appreciate each precious moment - I wasn’t awake for too terribly long at 2:30 AM, fretting about today’s challenging surgery (rectal tumor in a beloved “child substitute” poodle). As always, I’ll Do My Best and hopefully things will work out well for Mr Rocky. Yesterday was another challenging Monday, but I was able to sneak away for a lunch hour visit with Karen - we hadn’t been to the Cotton Patch in ages. She is helping her daughter interview attorneys as they brace themselves for the ordeals of family court. Sounds like they are going to select the “aggressive” guy who advertises himself as such, even though Karen didn’t like the fact that he cursed & took the Lord’s name in vain! A $4500 retainer, and $450/hr for any work that exceeds those first 10 hrs.

We rehashed my nightmarish experiences (actually more of a nightmare for poor Zach, even though it was heartbreaking for this mama to live through/witness) as I tried to prep her for the sad reality that, in all likelihood, unless Baby Daddy messes up by getting busted with a DUI or some such**, he will likely be granted every damn bit of the 50/50 custody he threatens Melissa  with (of course with 50/50 custody he does not have to pay child support)

**  strangely enough, Family Court could seem to care less about other convictions - let’s say for assault and battery or other violent offenses - it’s as if they think these men instantly transform into angels when they take possession of their children

I wish I were in a position to help Melissa financially but all I can offer at this point is moral support

 

It’s My Birthday & I’ll Cry If I Want To

 (Yeah I know I’m taking liberties with the lyrics, but it’s also MY BLOG! 😜😂🤣)

Overall, of course I’d rather have Low Comedy than High Drama…

Finally got our Certificate of Occupancy (one full year after embarking on this quest - seemed so simple, remodeling a workshop? We weren’t aiming for the Taj Mahal, or even AAHA certification!), but now I’ve got to coordinate The Big Shift: getting everything cleared out of Big Bertha (the RV) while not behaving like a tyrant towards my hard-working staff. (as much as I wanted to announce: ya know what would be the best birthday gift of all? GETTING THIS MOVE DONE LAST WEEKEND!!!)

Of course I understand that everyone has younger kids than mine, spouses & in-laws & Life Outside of Work. I sacrificed my Sunday to meet workmen who are at least getting our washer & dryer installed so the girls don’t have to take home our soiled clinic towels; I also had them move some cabinetry which was awkwardly placed, & touch up the floors in the front. Then I chose of my own free will to go have a late lunch with Mijo instead of going home to ride my neglected pony - the daylight was fading by the time I got home, so I settled for a little round pen work.

On Saturday my pal Toni coordinated a nice BD luncheon for me at Pappadeaux’s, my favorite Cajun seafood restaurant. I didn’t manage to coax Mom into the shower, but gave her a sponge bath & got her out with us. She seemed to enjoy herself (especially seeing Beloved Grandson), but slightly over an hour after I got her settled in her room & returned home, she was calling me, full of confusion & declaring Abby was missing? I patiently repeated that Abby was right there in her room, and she finally recognized her…

I was supposed to ride Sunday afternoon with Sam, but he had his own drama, dealing with his mom overseas (she’s living in India with his sister; they considered bringing her to the States but decided that would not work out well). As I said, low comedy! Next weekend is our AERC Convention which is in Albuquerque - I’d love to go but No Friggin’ Way can I justify that expense. And Carla’s mom (roughly the same vintage as mine, early 90’s) is slowly declining under hospice care - sleeping 23 hrs a day as her 95-yr old dad (who’s not doing too badly, all things considered, although he’s had to have several toes amputated d.t. diabetes) grieves & frets. Carla’s folks are staying in their home, so poor Carla has to make frequent supervisory visits as her sister is little to no help. Their stories make me grateful to be an only child.

                            Birfday flowers from Mijo - but I had to remove those toxic lilies!

     Mom, myself, Carla, Robert, Gayle, Sam, Gayle’s niece behind C2, JR and Carla 2.0 

JR is on crutches & in a boot - he broke his foot tripping over a dog! Have I told you how my husband declares “Too many dogs!” when he has to navigate around all the bodies on our living room floor; my reply is to “Step high!”

Looking Out For #1

 I’ve joined several widely divergent groups on FB: DVM Single Moms, Dieting DVM’s, fasting & insulin resistance, and of course my long-standing thyroid group…

This morning, this post from an insulin-resistant group member slapped me upside the head - I have a bad habit of disregarding male input, since in general men can lose weight so much easier than women! But Lee had many good points (similar to Peran, he has lost a lot of weight, regained, and is now dieting/weight training again):

I don’t have a disease, I have an intolerance.  The “innate condition” that a type 2 diabetic has, similar to an alcoholic, is the inability to handle a particular substance in a healthy way, a way that other people can.  An alcoholic has in innate intolerance to alcohol.  A type 2 diabetic has an innate intolerance to carbohydrates.

Some people will take this truth and use it improperly.   “Because Type 2 Diabetes is permanent, I will always need meds”.  It demotivates them to make the diet, exercise and other lifestyle changes to get healthy.  Why do all that work when, no matter what, one is still a diabetic?   It is in this sense that I vehemently disagree with the analogy.  

I am carb intolerant but I am no longer a diabetic.  I am not in a diseased state – at least not the disease of Type 2 diabetes.  Like any health state, one must continue to maintain your health.  Nobody has a permanent state of health.  I worked hard to go from highly diabetic to being free of type 2 diabetes.  I am a proud FORMER diabetic.   One who is 50lbs lighter, and no longer needs a cane to walk.  Health can be regained, the disease of type 2 diabetes can be overcome.  I recommend people adopt this mindset of health and hope.

What struck me is that simple phrase: ”Nobody has a permanent state of health”. So it does no good for me to shake my fist at the sky, or yell at clouds that Val cannot carry (not-so-)merrily on as I have in the past; I’ve got to just Get On With It. Here is a link to Lee’s blog; I’ve just begun to skim it. 

https://wp.me/p2mxHF-oQ (WordPress blogs are weird; hope this link works!)

But speaking of Getting On With It, I’ve got to get dressed & go meet my guys who are getting my washer/dryer installed at clinic, maybe moving a few other things - we finally got our Certificate of Occupancy! Now the challenge of coordinating our move-in - of course my girls are busy on weekends with their kiddos; as much as I don’t want to, we may have to close down for a day during the week. Sacrificing a day’s income will still be less expensive than hiring that moving crew to come back…

                           These are Lee’s Before & After photos - very similar build to my P

No Escape

 I may or may not have mentioned, last May I downloaded the “Ten Percent Happier” app on my phone which guides you through meditation exercises. I have been fairly consistent in bedtime meditation; it does seem to help me initially drift off to sleep.

Nothing teaches mindfulness like horsemanship, however: if you’re not paying attention/being “present in the moment”,  both on the ground and in the saddle, bad things can happen! (And of course I know accidents can happen regardless, but a lot of the times these things can be traced back to lack of attentiveness - we’re trying to force the issue when the horse is clearly indicating they’d rather handle things another way)

But, as I expected it was mostly bad news for Bo yesterday. I knew I was not equipped to tackle this nasty tumor which is most likely his squamous cell carcinoma spreading to the superficial cervical lymph node:

It didn’t look any less ominous on CT (Bo’s upper neck in cross-section):

I had a nice chat with another Dr Major (no relation to our Dr M), their surgeon - I could hear the hesitancy in his voice as he talked about the challenges evident in this area; not to mention if he managed to leave nerves and blood vessels undamaged, chances of a clean excision are slim to none. He would perform a tracheostomy with the hopes it would not be permanent - in my experience I have never seen a horse with a permanent trach do well long-term. Certainly not practical for my pasture-dwelling ponies.

Then let’s not even mention this minor point: he estimated between $4-5K (which actually is a hell of a deal for such a complicated endeavor) but I cannot justify sinking thousands more dollars into poor Bo on a questionable outcome…

So I brought Bo home & we’ll love on him & feed him well (he’s lost 140 lbs) until I make the executive decision that “it’s time” - a decision I’ve made many a time throughout my career, a power I don’t wield lightly. I feel it’s one of the most valuable services I offer my clients: the ability to relieve suffering. Tuesday morning I had “2 in a row” - 2 elderly dogs who were suffering along with their owners.

While I was waiting for the awesome A & M crew to do their diagnostic work on Bo, I “played tourist” by driving around College Station, seeing how it’s grown/things have changed. Of course both off-campus places I’ve lived are long gone, replaced by new apartments or townhomes. And they were just beginning construction of the Association of Former Students (Aggies don’t call ourselves “alumni”) when I graduated:

And this used to be a humble jogging path back in my day; now it’s a carefully manicured park

Valentine’s Day

 …is certainly no “holiday” for Yours Truly; I’ve got to finish slugging down my coffee, go to work & get my AM tasks done (generally I’m doing surgeries while Dr M sees appointments, but there’s usually a few who want to see Dr J), race by the feed store to toss a couple of bags in my car to hold the herd until this weekend (with all the rain, I haven’t been able to make my “big haul” feed run in my truck), go home, hitch my trailer, & get on down to College Station with Mr Bo.

I was alarmed to see the email appointment reminder yesterday which listed us at 2 PM - I quickly called and explained that, even under the very best circumstances I won’t be able to get there until 6 or 7 PM! They were very understanding and I soon got a corrected reminder which says 6 PM - that’s very optimistic but I explained carefully where I’m coming from… I remember my vet school days, when we would be knocking around waiting for a client to show up - usually it turned into discussions of the upcoming case as well as other things, of course. I know that Bo’s prognosis ain’t good, but I owe him every chance I can give him. That’s the price we pay for getting so emotionally attached.

Speaking of emotional attachments, I suggested to Peran that we have our Valentine’s dinner last night since I won’t even be here this evening - and, surprisingly enough, he agreed! We met at our favorite Tex-Mex place and split a double order of fajitas. I watched as my husband ate most of our two baskets of chips, made himself 4 fajita tacos and then methodically ate up his healthy- sized servings of rice and beans. “Seemed like old times” - it was as if I had my old husband back! However I adopted a “don’t ask/don’t tell” policy as it’s blatantly obvious he has regained a significant amount of weight (I’d estimate 50 pounds from the way his clothes are fitting). It isn’t as if he needs me to tell him that! He’s back to his old habits of being the bread and chip-a-holic - that nice loaf of sourdough I brought home a little over a week ago? I had two slices of it; P has also been bringing home the fresh French bread from H-E-B which disappears rapidly. It’s not that I begrudge him these things - of course, I have my own vices! but I wish he would talk to me - not that I could offer much constructive advice because I haven’t solved my own issues which is blatantly obvious every time I look in the mirror. But sometimes it’s nice just to have a sounding board.

That old clock keeps ticking so I’ve got to finish my last slug o’coffee and get moving. Updates to follow!

It’s The Little Things

 In many ways my first job was nightmarish, but I learned a lot and, in retrospect, it was an experience I’m grateful for - helping me become the veterinarian I am today! I worked at the oldest continuously operating veterinary clinic in Dallas: Rutherford Veterinary Hospital which sits on the edge of Fair Park. I was introduced to the music of Robert Earl Keen which was one of the bright spots of my youthful experience - this was one of his songs, a playful, folksy ditty proclaiming: “It’s the little things you do - that piss me off!!!”

I’m convinced Peran doesn’t process information in the same way you or I do - whether we want to write this off to “neurodivergence”, which seems to be this generation’s favorite new buzzword, or not - regardless, I doubt if I’ll ever be able to teach the man to communicate effectively? Victoria’s grandfather is starting radiation treatments for his tonsillar cancer; I wanted to take them out before miserable side effects overtake him. But poor Adela (his wife) is still creaking around on her walker (hip fracture just prior to Xmas) so I wound up picking up Chinese food to take to their house. Peran was out & about running his errands, so I texted him the menu with a notation “Please place your order”. Thankfully he called me to ask questions instead of calling the restaurant directly - of course, I wanted to place one big order, isn’t it clear to anyone?!? Especially since I had told what I planned to do (deliver dinner since they weren’t up to venturing out) - can you imagine the god-awful, confused mess it would be if the six of us each called in individual orders?!? The only thing I messed up was failing to order the eggplant dish that Zach had requested, but other than that I think it turned out well. Andy ate with great vigor, and I gave him all my pro tips for getting through his radiation treatments. He’s gonna have it worse than I did since they will be irradiating his pharyngeal area. When I had my initial, fairly primitive round of scattershot radiation treatments to my neck in 1989, I was living off Wendy’s Frosties for those last couple of weeks (I had a miserable sore throat), but in the end I only missed two days of work. I would take an extended lunch hour, drive to the hospital to get zapped, and get back to work.

I’ll be taking Bo down to Texas A&M Wednesday evening so they can get started bright and early Thursday morning with tests and scans to see what can be done for my sweet boy. It rained all weekend so I didn’t get to ride and I don’t have time to get into the misery with my mom either (I did get her to shower which was quite the ordeal)

Flowers for Val-gernon

 (I know this is a repeated title of mine which may have been for an old SP blog - the novel "Flower for Algernon" really had a strong affect on me when I came across it as a teenager)

I am haunted by several of Tish’s observations:

A.) Yes, absolutely true that my ex-husband’s complicated family history was a mess - he admitted that himself! And I admit that, even though I knew he was a flawed and imperfect man, I had fallen in love with him - my “doctor complex” was activated; I thought I could help him work through those old traumas. Lord knows a big highlight of our conversations back in the day was verbally dissecting the rest of the family - of course, I had issues in my own as well which were also fair game…

B.) “I don’t even know who I am anymore” - boy, can I relate! I based my whole identity on becoming a veterinarian and eventually achieving “The Dream” of my own clinic. Now with everything being such a god-awful mess that has morphed into a nightmare. I keep on telling myself things will be better when we can move into the building, when I can get the mobile unit sold, when I get things straightened out with my mom’s investment account - but right now everything is roiling in the muck! (Ha, how about if and when my husband finds a job to take some of the financial pressure off me??!!??)

But for now I’ve just gotta take it one day at a time for sure - poor Bo has a painful, enlarged lymph node in his neck which I’m sure is related to his cancer eye (squamous cell carcinoma). I haven’t decided how much is Sunk Cost Fallacy or not, but he was first in line at the gate this morning so I’m going to take him back to Texas A&M to have him scanned and see what, if anything can be done? A bold surgeon could strip it out of there, but I don’t have the facilities or a large animal anesthetic machine to make that happen (I’ve never been shy about working on my own animals - I do not understand some of my colleagues who fall into dithering panic when it’s their own babies?!?

“The Most Expensive Free Horse of All Time”!!!  But I owe him that chance…

Easy to get distracted worrying about sweet Bo, but last night my mental gears kept on getting hung up in the calendar - several times when I awoke I thought it was late Sunday night/early Monday morning & had to keep telling myself no, you idiot,  it’s Friday! These minor lapses are distressing to me. I got my copy of the report from the Head Injury Institute and of course, she corroborates my TBI. One thing she mentions is, even though I scored “average” on many of the tests - as a veterinarian, no doubt I used to be “above average”. Ugh. 🤦‍♀️

Also contemplating the anniversary of my half sister‘s death , but that’ll be a reminiscence for another blog.

Another Brick in The Wall

 Yesterday was a rough day in more ways than one: a busy Monday workday, and then I had to attend a rosary for the 95-year old mother of one of my old school chums.

The Derdeyns were your typical “big Catholic family”, as Atypical as that was in Big D - home of the Southern Baptist megachurch! 8 kids being raised on a blue collar electrician’s salary, Mrs D as the devoted, perpetually scrimping n’ saving wife & mother. (In some ways similar to my familiar godparents’ brood of 6, but in many ways different since Mrs D & my mom were frenemies - she was a woman of strong opinions who wasn’t shy about expressing them. Quite diametrically opposed to my Type A workaholic but nonconfrontational mother!)

But Linda (their next-to-youngest daughter) & I were inseparable in middle school, and have remained friendly throughout high school & into adulthood. She married a slightly older guy (last night of course, I was marveling at how “old” everyone looked while, as we all know, I have remained dewy & youthful, ha ha!) and had only a single son, similar to myself. He’s a couple of yrs younger than my Z, and was going through “social transition” (identifying as female) in his late teens. I was relieved to see last night that apparently he has detransitioned, by all outward appearances presenting as an ordinary average young man. Of course, last night wasn’t the time or the place to discuss complicated social issues, but Linda plans on having a St Cecilia meet up soon…

And I will have to add on to my 3 AM epiphany later, as I’ve used up all my coffee time!

                                                 Linda & her mom about 5 yrs ago

***************************************************************

I was identifying Generalized Anxiety in myself during the "family reminiscences" portion of Mrs Derdeyn's services last night; how different my lil' family was from theirs. How does that Tolstoy quote go? 

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

As I contemplated my poor mother's dissatisfaction in life: she professed a desire to raise a large family, a dream deferred by her own struggles with infertility (she had several miscarriages prior to my premature birth, and had to have a hysterectomy when I was 2). It's one of those things we will never know for sure - because **I** have certainly inherited some of my mom's perfectionist workaholic tendencies (not that you'd know it these days, with my suppressed productivity) - I never had a strong desire for (human) children at all, and absolutely was "one and done". I love my son dearly, but Zach has absorbed so much of my time, my energy, and my resources... I am reminded of another favorite quote when I embroil myself too deeply in these philosophical arguments:

 Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

A Lifeline

 …is what this blog is to me: a way to sort things out in my foggy lil’ head, and perhaps feel there is some purpose & direction to this plod through life? Or perhaps an anchor is a better metaphor: a way to preserve memories, to prove that I’ve been here & accomplished a few things, even though the current course appears insurmountable, a steep rocky path winding up through the wilderness, trudging towards an uncertain destination…

Just as Saturday’s mini-reverie about our trip to CA was a pleasant distraction: after all, 5 yrs ago Zach was trying to get his derailed college career back on track, having moved out due to ongoing conflict w/Peran. I was strung perhaps “slightly” more thin, making my rounds between farm, clinic, my parents, and Z’s new apartment. That carousel never stops spinning, does it?

2 weeks from today I will hit the big 6-0; no big plans outside of survival. Met my trail riders crew for a nice brunch yesterday & I know they’ll scheme up something! I kept my sticky fingers off my phone, and Z didn’t call. Gotta “leave that boy alone”. He had called me Sat night to vent - Victoria didn’t stand up for him when her grandfather jumped Z’s ass over an off-color joke. I almost called Andy myself to explain that Z comes by his dark sense of humor honestly - he’s inherited a double dose from both me & his father! But I kept out of it; Z’s a grownup now & needs to manage his own relationships. He might have left V at her GP’s (which is only 1.5 mi up the road; if necessary, she could certainly walk it) overnight since he left the conflict, but at this point I honestly don’t know? I’m sure if there had been a major meltdown I’d have heard about it - I kept my phone close by during brunch yesterday just in case.

My friend Carla’s mom is a little farther down the path than my own mother (just enrolled in hospice care) - she had bought her this baby doll a little too late, so she gave it to me. Mom liked her!

                                                     When it rain, cowgirls go to brunch!

                    I think it’s great that her outfit is color-coordinated with Mom’s, that worked out nicely

Down the Rabbit Hole

 One advantage of Zach’s maturity (not to mention that there are no longer any legal repercussions!) is that we can talk about those uncomfortable subjects of family history in full detail…

Somehow the subject of his namesake (paternal grandfather Lee Jaffe) came up a few weeks ago, with Zach relating some nonsense his father had told him about them having some sort of “deathbed reconciliation” - now, granted, Michael & I were freshly divorced when Lee passed away in Y2K, so I don't know what sort of deathbed conversation they might have had, but I DO know while we were married they were not “bitterly estranged”… (File under strange coincidences but Michael went through a hell-raising stage when he was a teenager and for whatever reason Lee & Edwina decided to ship him off to his bio-dad in Colorado, whom he barely knew, to finish out his high school years - there’s the nugget of that estrangement story! And the probable root cause of why Michael decided to start Custody Battle the 3rd with me when Zach was 16 and likewise going through his own experimentation phase)

Anyway, since I have limited time to talk to Z these days with his busy busy life, I decided to write it all out - he has not come back with any more questions (yet):

Mom’s View of History

(You may not want to read or know any of this, but I guarantee my memory of family events is more accurate than your father’s)

Grandma Edwina was a teen bride (it was probably a shotgun wedding) to (Bio-grandpa) Larry Immel, who got shipped out to Vietnam, where he met/fell in love with Grandma Phu. He mailed a Dear Jane letter to Edwina, divorced her so he could remarry Phu & bring her & her 2 kids (Lisa & Vincent) back to the US. They later had one child of their own, Lynn (‘71, I believe)

Meanwhile, Grandma Edwina migrated to Florida (how or why I know not?), where she met Grandpa Lee who was a widower. Apparently they had a whirlwind romance, were married & Lee legally adopted your dad & Aunt Linda. They also had one child of their own (Aunt Reva) in ‘69 or ‘70. 

I’m not quite sure when Edwina & Lee’s marriage dissolved but your dad experimented with marijuana (along with other hell-raising activities) in his early teens and got himself shipped off to Larry & Phu’s household in CO for his high school years (‘72 - ‘76). When Michael graduated high school, he had no place to go and wound up in Fort Worth, living with great-grandma Jimmie for a while until he got steady employment at RadioShack and could afford his own apartment. He wound up getting hired on with Dallas County, working maintenance in Las Colinas when it was just beginning to be developed. That’s where he learned to operate & repair heavy equipment.

Michael was taking some night courses at TCCC and UT Arlington,   where he met Dave Roberts, who was an amateur herpetologist. I don’t know exactly when he started collecting snakes (for all I know it started “in the wilds” of Las Colinas as they cleared that land & built the canal system), but soon he joined the North Texas Herpetological Society, actively swapping & trading.

Dave & I became friends at UT Arlington when we took Ornithology & Natural History courses together; when he found out I liked herps, he invited me to NTHS meetings. I went & joined up “as a family” with Granddad - I thought he might go to some of their meetings with me, a fun father/daughter activity!

Michael saw me at the meetings but was scared off when he looked up “George & Val Lewis” - he thought I was married! We wrangled over Rafael, my rescued boa constrictor but I won since I had no other snakes while he had a closetfull! Somewhere during that time he mentioned me to Dave & Dave told him no, I wasn’t married - George was my dad! Our first date was for me to be his “plus-one” at Steve Hammack’s wedding in December of ‘84.

We were married by May of ‘85 - I had my reservations, really wanted to cohabitate but Amamma & Granddad weren’t having it; they would’ve withdrawn my college funding.

Michael proposed in February, and as we started planning our wedding, I know he told Lee in short order. Lee wasn’t able to fly out for our wedding (or maybe he thought it would be awkward since Edwina & Eddie Kaminsky, her 3rd husband, lived in Ft Worth at that time?) but he bought us a new Honda Accord as our wedding gift. That was a great car!

Lee was extremely generous with us over the years: the car, the horse trailer, downpayments on other trucks, our big tractor, etc etc! We visited him in FL usually once or twice a year, where Michael tried to pay him back by doing all sorts of home-maintenance chores. By that time, Edwina & Eddie had moved back to Davie so it was never much “vacationing” - they had their “To Do” list too while I was usually the errand girl. If we were lucky we’d schedule one day at the beach, and one banner year your dad & I took a few days off & trekked up to Epcot since Aunt Linda had family passes.

We would usually have at least one big family dinner hosted by Lee, since he had the biggest house by the time: we had your father & I, Aunt Linda & Donny with their growing brood, Eddie & Edwina & Aunt Reva when she could coordinate her visits…

So I don’t know what kind of alternate reality your father has constructed, but that’s the way I remember things. Michael & Lee were certainly not the closest, but it was a long way from hatred & bitter estrangement.

Atlas & Axis

 OJ is absolutely correct in her assertions that I need to “let go of the reins” and quit shouldering everyone’s problems…

I’ve been doing my best to “leave that boy alone” - Z called me with a brief question yesterday but today I haven’t heard from him. I came home from my rounds, checking on my mom followed by a quick trip to the store (honestly, all I went in there for was coffee cream and salad greens so how did I spend $40??) Minor splurges on cappuccino milk, sourdough bread, fresh tortillas - & bought an $11.99 tray of store-made sushi for my lunch which was pretty good stuff; far better than going to a restaurant & spending twice that amount!

Got home to flip on the TV and skim channels - when I saw the dramatic coastline behind the golf tournament, I knew it had to be Pebble Beach. I took Zach, Josef and Josef’s mom out there five years ago when Josef‘s big sister was going to school in Monterey. (We also went in February, probably right after this PGA golf tournament had concluded) The weather was disappointing - kind of gray, chilly and rainy just as it is on the TV screen today; there was a massive storm two days after we arrived which knocked out power in the neighborhood of our AirBnB. This left us unable to enjoy the house under frigid conditions - we went out during the daytime and bundled up at night. This soured me on the AirBnB experience because in the end, with lots of complaining I only got a $200 credit. But it was still a nice trip and I hope Zach, Josef & MJ retain fond memories of it. Here’s my tiny blog blurb (I was still in the process of transferring as much of my old Spark blogs as I could):

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Resurrection?

I don’t know why I’m watching this tripe (Alien: Resurrection) - not much else to do on this, our final night together in not-so-sunny, uncomfortably cold California...
I’ve laid out another impressive piece o’change on a bigger, more ambitious version of Zach & Joe’s Big Adventure, and all for what??? Can’t really say, this dull headache makes me wanna just crawl under the covers...
Airfare = $400
Luxury SUV rental = $800
Air BnB weekly lease = $1600
Snuggling with mah boy = PRICELESS

Also got some good photos; for some reason these always pop up prominently in my “Memories”

Here’s our AirBnB which would’ve been great with electricity! We wound up having to eat out all the time because it was an all-electric home: kitchen, heat pump, hot water heater!!! Geez!