FIRE!!

 OK, I know one shouldn't yell "FIRE" in a crowded theater, but no harm on an uncrowded blog....

I don't know what I did to piss off the Fire Demons or the Gods of Electrical Appliances, but I have had a couple of interesting days...

Yesterday, while cleaning in the bedroom, I was attacking some dog/cat hair in the corner near the electrical outlet where two lamps are plugged in. The hair was wound around one of the cords and in the process of removing it BANG! And a blast of fire! and I'm knocked to the ground. Thankfully not electrocuted, but my hand burnt and blistering. I quickly unplugged the lamp and went to tend to my hand, which began bleeding as the blisters broke open...  Not a good day.

Lamp Cord

Then this morning while I was listening to a radio program about the "Curse of Lizzie Borden" (interesting!) and waiting for my coffee to brew, I saw a sudden flash of light in the kitchen and smelled smoke.

So I ran into the kitchen to see the coffee maker was on fire! I mean, flames were licking the back of the coffee maker and bursting in the air toward the ceiling. I quickly unplugged the thing and threw a towel over it which smothered the fire but the room was full of smoke.

 The back of the coffee maker was completely melted...

Spent a few hours airing out the house. Still smells. 

Tried to fix the cord and ended up blowing a fuse... I give up!

Just another day at The Pink House.

PS: Good news, my father should be coming home from the hospital today. Thanks everyone for your kind words and prayers!

Melted Coffee Maker

A Bit of a Set Back

I was doing really well, writing every day, swimming every day, Kona and I walking 1.5 miles each morning and feeling pretty good then...

My father was hospitalized last Monday with pneumonia. Since, under the hospital's "expert care", he's suffered two TIA's (mini-strokes) and a fall from his hospital bed. He's still there... 

I was walking Kona the other day, admiring the Halloween decorations (which I do love) and saw one house with a sign that read "DEAD and Breakfast" and "Vacancy".  I tell you, that stopped me in my tracks. All I could think of was how Bob died in his sleep, my sister died in her sleep and --- What's wrong with people? That is so NOT funny.

I asked my grief counselor if I was overly sensitive, but she said that a lot of her clients have similar reactions to some of the halloween decorations and the people who put up those making fun of death probably have never lost someone close to them... they just don't get it.

Anyway, worried about my father. Hoping he will be home soon, so that hospital can't damage him further... Missing Bob, terribly, as he loved Halloween and my birthday is the day after...  Hard to write lately, so been cleaning the house. (It needs it!) 

Prayers, please, for my dad, Les. Thanks. 

Back in the Saddle

I will admit that September was a rough month for me. First my sister's death anniversary, a grim reminder of how short life can be. Then our wedding anniversary, and on that day, it rained and rained and I wasn't able to get out to do the thing I wanted, which was walking around the lake with Kona... I was in a dark place.

The Harvest Moon was in late September. I heard about it on the morning weather and that night, I wanted to go out and see it. Unfortunately, it was raining, hard. No view of the moon from the front porch, so I went to the back porch. Nothing to see, but rain. I thought if I stepped out into the yard perhaps I could see the moon, but it might be obscured by clouds and I would certainly get drenched.

I sat down. Thinking about the rain, how much Bob loved a rainy night. Thinking about my sister, what legacy did she leave behind? Two children, yes, but her whole life seemed to be broken down into things: her house, her belongings and the greed I saw of some who came like vultures circling her "remains" and it all seemed so sad... I still wanted to see the moon, but the rain was unceasing. And I thought, well, I'll get wet. Then thought, call me crazy, but I have a high privacy fence and I glanced toward the neighbors and saw no lights on, so I went inside, striped off my clothes, wrapped myself in a bath towel, stepped out onto the porch then dropped the towel and stepped out into the rain. The pouring rain falling on me.

Feeling like something I can't describe and havn't felt in so long. Freedom? Love? Happiness? Joy, even.

I reach my hands into the air and turned my face to the sky and didn't see the moon, but stood there buck naked, drenched in the pouring rain feeling suddenly free and rebirthed and Bob felt so close to me at that moment, in the rain.

After that night, since that night, I have been writing almost every day for several hours. I haven't had a drop of alcohol (not that I have problem, but it was a way to numb the pain) I swim every day (up to 50 laps now) and walk the dog every morning an entire mile. I also cut my smoking back to about 9 cigs a day. Not quite ready to quit completely yet. I'm sleeping better. Feeling better. And wake in the morning, not dreading the day, but looking forward to it. I want very much to leave a legacy and not end up like my sister. The only way I can do that is through my writing. So this is what I'm concentrating on... This is what Bob wanted. This is my writing life.

Wish me luck to stay the course....