The Monica Chronicles

After a full day of errand running, I finally sat down in my chair yesterday afternoon about 4:30 to watch the latest episode of “Ghost Hunters” (my guilty pleasure) I’d recorded the night before.  At a crucial point in the program, when one of the investigators said, “What was that?” , I heard what sounded like an explosion that had not come from the TV.  I got up as quickly as the motorized footrest on my recliner would release me to take a look around the house for the source of the bang.

My first thought was garage door spring.  I’ve heard from many friends that when the spring goes in your garage door, it makes a loud, explosive bang.  But, when I peeked into the garage, I didn’t see any springs or signs of any action out there.  From there I made a cautionary sweep of the perimeter, checking the sounds of the air handlers as well as the lp tank outside. I found nothing.  Convinced there was nothing to be concerned about, I sat back down and continued watching my program.

When it was over I decided I would run an errand before dinner.   I grabbed my keys and purse and on my way out hit the garage door opener button.  The engine hummed but the door only went up about six inches before the motor stopped.  I hit it again and the door went down.  Again and it went up about six inches. Again and it went down – never to rise again.  Crap!

Being the independent woman that I am, I Googled opening how to open the door  manually so I could get my car out and go about my business.  But no matter how hard I tried to release the mechanism, the door was just too heavy for me to lift. There was nothing else to do but surrender to the fact that I couldn’t handle this job alone so I sat back down and waited.

When Dave came home, I told him what had happened and the two of us went out to tackle the door.  It took both of us to get it lifted, and not too easily.  Then, to insure it wouldn’t crash down on me as I backed the car out, Dave gave it one more little push, which resulted in the top panel of the door sliding off the back end of the track and swinging freely over the roof of my car, missing it by a couple of inches.  With adrenaline pumping my heart at a brisk pace, I backed car out of the garage.

It wasn’t very difficult to get the door back on the track and with the slightest touch, it rolled rapidly to the down position, landing with a great crash and popping the top panel from a couple of its hinges upon impact.  We were able to pop most of them back but we had undeniably come to the end of our abilities with the door and it was time to call in the professionals.

My friend Carol recommended Overhead Door Company of Charlottesville.  They  had made repairs to their garage door and was very happy with their service.  I checked their webpage and found out they opened at 7:00. So, the this morning, having given them a couple of minutes to get their coffee and settle in, I gave them a call.  After I explaining my problem, I was relieved to hear that someone would be able to make a service call sometime after lunch.

Usually I am out on Fridays, knitting with my friends at Peace Lutheran and I wasn’t happy about missing the fellowship and lunch out with them.  But, I will be working tomorrow at a craft bazaar and could use the day to do some things around the house while I waited for the repairmen.

While puttering around the house, I usually streaming my latest binge-watch show from my iPad but today I decided not to.  I recently read somewhere that silence can actually be therapeutic.  I could use some free therapy, so I decided to purposefully attend to quiet activities.

Yesterday, I received some yarn in the mail that I’d ordered for my next project; six hanks of soft, beautiful superfine merino wool in yummy fall colors. But, before I could do anything with it, it needed to be rolled into balls.

Rolling yarn is an excellent quiet activity.  It is monotonous, time-consuming, and quiet except for the whirr of the swift as it spins and best of all, requires no brain power.

Not long after I started, my quiet was interrupted by my phone ringing.  It was from the repairman, asking if they could come earlier.  Sure, I said.  I hung up and continued rolling my yarn.

About twenty minutes the truck pulled into my driveway and work began on my garage door.  I went back to my yarn and continued my quietness and focus while pounding and drilling began in the garage.  I fought my inclination to observe all things mechanical and worked until each of the hanks of wool were in tidy round balls and ready to be worked.

My silent time was finally interrupted by Dave’s coming through the front door for lunch and soon after we heard the familiar and comforting sound of our garage door opener pulling our door up.

I have to say, I enjoyed the silence very much and I am still enjoying it as I write.  Of course “silence” to me can only mean lack of television, conversation or music; things I have control over because I can still hear the tires of the trucks in the distance as they make their way up and down US 29 and there is of course the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard.  And even though I was interrupted by the occasional phone call or banging in the garage, the relative quiet has been so nice.  So nice that I think I will try to do more of this silence therapy.  It was like a little vacation from thinking.  And I could surely use that!

Since my post yesterday where I shared the woes of my poison ivy affliction, I have been flooded with emails, messages and phone calls from friends offering some very good advice concerning the treatment of this nasty rash.  The funny thing is, that when I first broke out in itchy spots, I went to Google and then a reference book that Tricare gave me for guidance.

Nothing I found on the internet or in my home care guide even came close to giving me comfort, both physically and emotionally as the advice I’ve received from all of you who have pitched in your two cents!  You have collectively eased and no doubt shortened my misery. I thank you all and thank God for putting you all in my life.  I am truly blessed.

Have you ever heard the saying, “No good deed goes unpunished?”  Well, I feel like a living example.

Two weeks ago while working on a Habitat for Humanity project I helped out by pruning back some overgrown vines off a fence where we installing a new gate.  I must have come in contact with poison ivy or some kind of urisol oil producing plant.  I didn’t notice it at first and so didn’t think twice about using a new herbal salt scrub I recently purchased to clean the dirt off.  In the process I opened the pores and let the stuff in.  What a hot mess!

It started as a few itchy spots and I wasn’t sure what it was.  But within a few days the rash spread into some pretty impressive red, leathery patches on the left side of my neck and down the inside of my left arm.  My rash was so impressive I have not doubt that if I were living in Biblical times I’d have been exiled to some far off leper colony.

And, if the ugliness of the rash weren’t enough, the itching has been relentless.  It has taken unbelievable self-control to not just give in and dig into the stuff!  I’ve tried a combination of products based on the common knowledge of my friends and have come to the conclusion that the best course of treatment is to keep washing myself, my clothes and bedding with detergent to remove any residual urisol while applying hydrocortisone to my spots and taking regular doses of diphenhydramine.

While I realize this is a temporary condition, I hate the most consumes so much of my attention.  There are many things I’d rather by thinking about and doing.  Instead, I am trying to determine what surfaces I many have touched that need cleaning, all the while keeping myself distracted so that I don’t focus too much on the itchy ugliness of the stuff.

When I was a kid in Catholic school, the Sisters used to suggest we “offer” these things up to the Lord.  I have never been clear what that means or why I would want to try to hand this off to anyone else.  It hardly seems fair to pass off itchiness  to someone who is supposed to love you unconditionally.

How many times have parents threatened to pull a car over to the side of the road to deal with unruly children?  I myself have heard it many times and have even said it to my own children (although I personally found the knee pinch a much more effective method of regaining order) but I never actually pulled a car over.

A couple of days I found myself doing virtually the same thing with my last blog post.

My intention was to rationally explain my choice of Presidential Candidate and why.  I was also interested in initiating a discussion of why other people supported their candidate but asked that the conversation be kept positive.  I didn’t bash the other candidate and asked that anyone participating did the same.  Sadly, while the conversation began in a good way; initially the folks who didn’t agree were respectful.  But soon the comments began spiraling directly down into the “dark side.”  There was a lot of sound and furry, but little substantive discussion of issues. That is why, after a couple of days of monitoring the discussion, I “pulled the car over” and pulled the post.

The whole thing left me at a loss.  It seems to me that if you’re actually going to place your vote for an individual, you should at least have a reason why you support them and being against their opponent is not a reason in my opinion.  We’re not talking about voting someone off “The Voice” or “Dancing With the Stars.”  This is not a popularity contest and you don’t even have to like the person you’re voting for, but you should at least consider who is best qualified for the job.  If you believe your candidate is  qualified, you should be able to articulate what those qualifications are regardless of whom their opponent is.

That is exactly what I attempted to do.  Maybe I wasn’t as clear as I had intended, but be assured, I’m not supporting Hilary Clinton because she’s a woman.  The fact she is a woman is as I began my last post, is a historical milestone.  I am supporting her because she has shown commitment to public service  for her entire adult life.  She is a leader.  She is smart.  She is tough.  She has experience in both domestic and foreign policy and knows how the government works.  I respect her for what she has accomplished and trust her to take our country in the right direction.

Do I think she’s perfect?  Absolutely not, but I do believe she has earned the respect that should be afforded anyone in her position and that neither she, nor her opponent should be judged by anything but the facts – hard facts, not conjecture, “feelings,” accusations or suppositions and certainly not by an avalanche of memes on the internet.  Just because someone has cleverly assembled words on a photo doesn’t make something the truth, nor does repeating it over and over again.

And don’t make me pull this car over again!