EEEK!!!!

There's a mouse in the house.
Or, as my Scottish grandfather used to say, there's a moose in the hoose.
Actually, I never had a Scottish granddad.
I never knew any of my grandparents, which speaks something to my desire to be the world's best nana.
Have I mentioned that before?

Anyway, back to the moose.
It's probably not as cute as this one.
It probably has much bigger teeth and scary claws.


Jeff has been telling me for some time that he wakes up at night and hears scrabbling.
I put it down to an overactive imagination.

Until Thursday night, when we had put our tired selves to bed and were hunkering down for our long winter's nap.
All was quiet, except for the TV in the family room.
(Annie had shown up for the evening and outlasted us.)
Suddenly, we hear a "scratch, scratch, scratch" coming from the vicinity of my nightstand.
We couldn't believe our ears.
It was spooky.
Jeff leapt out of bed, (okay, lumbered) and stomped around to my side of the bed. The mouse (oh, please let it only be a mouse) was forewarned, of course, and was nowhere to be found. Although some major dust bunnies and apparently yummy-smelling candy wrappers were very revealing of some of my most shameful habits.
End of mouse story for the day, as we nervously fell sleep.

Last night, Friday, Jeff was watching one of the "Mummy" movies in the rec room.
I was ensconced on the family room couch watching "Friday Night Lights," my favourite show.
A sad statement in and of itself.
Jeff came running into the room, announcing that he'd heard our little friend again.
"Oh, good," I thought, "at least he's not in the house."
The little beggar had made a meal of my gourd from Peru, eating off some of the decorative corn. He also (why do I keep saying "he?") ate some of my instruments and left little turds in a box and on the TOP SHELF of the bookcase.
How do mice climb to the top shelf, tell me that!
He left a nice little pile of rice in the corner of the bottom shelf.
WHICH WE DID NOT CLEAN UP!

This morning the pile was gone.
Spooky.
And we can't find it either.
That was one busy little mouse last night.
Today, I spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning my bedroom (scary how dust accumulates when you're not looking) and buying mousetraps at Freddie's.

Look out, little mouse, your days are numbered.

Now, let's hope he doesn't find my chocolate stash in the spare bedroom!

Some thoughts on pain

Don't be scared, it's not totally depressing.
Just grit your teeth and read on....

This is me, on that fateful day in September 2007, halfway up Mount St. Helens.
Blissfully unaware of what would follow.


It has been 18 months since I broke my leg. Eighteen months of fairly unrelenting pain.
I have spent a lot of time, money, and energy in trying to figure out a way to get rid of the pain.
Acupuncture.
Physical therapy.
Yoga.
Kick-boxing.
More surgery to remove the hardware.
Attempting to walk through the pain in the hope that if I walk enough it will go away.
You have to understand, it isn't just my leg that hurts. It's my foot, my ankle, my other leg, and both of my hips as well, as they compensate for the bad leg.
And the pain isn't just announcing itself when I am using my leg.
It's there when I sit on the couch.
It's nagging at me when I am lying in bed, so that I toss and turn and can't get comfortable.
Pain has become my ever-present friend.
Not really interesting enough to talk about unless someone happens to ask me, "How is your leg?"
Then, when I tell them, I sense that it makes them uncomfortable to think about it.
I understand that. It's like when I used to watch my Mum silently wringing her hands because of arthritis pain. It used to make me almost angry because I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't want to think about it. Now I have my own arthritis pain and somehow it's easier.
But for me, strangely, pain has become my constant companion. It tells me I am still here, still fighting the good fight to get back to what I once was. So I don't hate it. I'm not even angry about it.

Then, suddenly, about two days ago, I noticed that my ankle hardly hurts any more.
My hip doesn't hurt when I walk.
Not even up the crazy hills this morning, thank you Brenda.
Weird.
Was it the upward-facing dog that I finally pulled off in yoga class on Tuesday evening?
Or was it just persistence and the healing power of time?
I don't know.

But I think I like it.

This I love...

One of the best things about spending a good part of my life teaching people of various talent and willingness to play the piano, is that eventually I got to teach my own grand-daughter.
Somehow, it's much easier than when I taught my four children.

McKenzie listens to me.
She has conversations about why she likes this piece and why that one is hard.
She hums along to the songs she likes.
She is polite.
She loves me.
We don't yell at each other.

I am always second-guessing myself on my parenting. I wish I had done "this" better, or not done "that" at all. Piano lessons were a kind of microcosm of our relationships with each other. And while I am sure my kids would have their own versions of why taking piano lessons from Mom was horrible, it was partly those experiences that got us to where we are today. Now we can (mostly) laugh about it.

And while they don't all play the piano today, they all found instruments to love and music is a big part of their lives.

So there must have been something good.

Wheeee!

We spent the weekend in Southern California with Charlie.
We flew JetBlue, my new favourite airline.
They serve SNACKS.
As many as you want.
The blue potato chips are particularly scrumptious.


On Saturday, Adam and Shelley (Charlie's new surrogate parents) took us on an adventure. We test-drove one of these.
It's called a SPYDER.


Here's the proof.


We each had our own bike and rode in a convoy, up in the hills above Temecula, for about 30 minutes.
It was absolutely STOOPENDOUS!

Jeff always said he would never buy a motorbike.

Then a few years ago he allowed as he might be talked into a trike.

Do we see a pattern here?

More Good News

Got this in my Inbox today from Ode.

"Stem cells have the potential to be turned into any tissue, including heart cells, making the growth of 'spare parts' a possibility.

Scientists have found a way to make an almost limitless supply of stem cells that could safely be used in patients while avoiding the ethical dilemma of destroying embryos.

In a breakthrough that could have huge implications, British and Canadian scientists have found a way of reprogramming skin cells taken from adults, effectively winding the clock back on the cells until they were in an embryonic form.

The work has been hailed as a major step forward by scientists and welcomed by pro-life organizations, who called on researchers to halt other experiments which use stem cells collected from embryos made at IVF clinics."

If you want to read the whole article go to http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2009/mar/01/stem-cells-breakthrough?utm_source=Ode+Newsletters&utm_campaign=fc436a4a7f-daily-rss&utm_medium=email

Gol-ly, maybe President Bush had it right, we don't need embryonic stem cells after all. Betcha won't hear that tomorrow from our revered leaders.

And these, folks, are the little beauties themselves.

This makes me happy (edited)

I love it when Joshua visits for the day.
He has a precocious ability to put puzzles together.
His favourite puzzle this week is Happy Feet, which says, in flowing, sparkly letters, "I'm singing with my feet."

I, of course, put it to song.

"I'm siiiinging with my feet!"
(Think, "Siiiinging in the rain")
"That's right!"

So Joshie sings, "I'm siiiiinging with my peet!"
"Dat's right!"

Nana: "I'm siiiinging with my feet!"

Josh: "No, Nana, PEET!"

Oh.

Okay.

Good stuff

One of the things that gets me through the day in these slightly trying times is reading about good things that other people are doing. One of my main sources is Ode magazine. Ode is the magazine for intelligent optimists. I like that term, "intelligent optimists." I have often described myself as a "cynical optimist," but that is a discussion for another time.
Admittedly, the Ode can be a little kooky. For instance, it contains ads for cigarettes made with organic tobacco. What? And GreenSingles dating. And my personal favourite, "6 great ways to win an argument." Only six? But it is full of inspiring stories about ordinary people who have become extraordinary by following their passion in a way that makes a positive contribution to the world. Like Willie Smits, who started out rescuing one orangutan from a rubbish heap and ended up.....well, you go read the article here http://www.odemagazine.com/doc/60/willie-smits-hanging-around-with-orangutans/


One of my immediate travel goals is to visit the reserve's lodge in Indonesia and volunteer.
You can sign up for good news every day at http://odemagazine.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=09204162e37ac2ec56645b649&id=058c274184.

Check this one out: http://www.jewishworldwatch.org/refugeerelief/solarcookerproject.html. Someone had the brilliant idea of giving solar cookers to African women in refugee camps so that they didn't have to go out collecting firewood. When they left the camp they risked rape and even murder. Such a simple solution - free power, no rape, no murder.


Do you know any good news? Leave it in the comments section. And for you lurkers who never say anything, all you have to do is sign up for a Google account and you can leave as many adoring comments as you like.
Does anybody know how to make links instead of web addresses? I can't seem to figure it out.