The four-footed one decided today was good for nothing more than resting.  She wasn’t really interested in going for any of her usual walks, playing with her toys or seeking out a new adventure.  It may be because she has found a favorite blanket.

Yesterday I was given a nice, micro fleece blanket as a gift.  I brought my gift home and tossed it on a chair, planning to move it later on.  The four-footed one had other plans.  First she sniffed the new item.  After a few sniffs she planned on testing it.  For softness and comfort.  And somehow that testing plan resulted in a whole day of quality control work on her part.

Yes it’s true dear friends, my four-footed friend, in the name of ensuring I’d have maximum comfort sacrificed a whole day to rigorously testing out my new blanket.  The one I haven’t been able to touch since putting it on the chair.  Which I guess is the sacrifice I made.  Which in light of all she has given up today (walks, playing with her toys, adventures, running around the house and barking at anyone who dares to come near the house) seems like nothing.  Except it’s my blanket and I haven’t even got to use it yet!


Hamlet, Coffee And My Life

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark according to Marcellus in Hamlet’s First Act, Scene 4. And while I cannot speak about the state of Denmark specifically, it would appear that something is wrong in the state of my house. Oh not the house itself. It appears to be holding up just fine. However, there is something very strange afoot within the structure. And I cannot put my finger on exactly how the rot is happening. You see dear friends, I try to never run out of coffee in the house. Being out of coffee is a bit like a disaster on the most global of scales for me. (Let’s face it, I don’t even like myself when I don’t have coffee.)

The past few days I have “restocked” the kitchen with coffee from the pantry only to find that by the next morning the entire restock needs to be, well, replenished. Again. The four-footed one does not drink coffee, although not for lack of trying on her part. That leaves only two humans in the house, Beloved and I. I have one cup of coffee in the morning before I head out. When I’m out of the house I will have more coffee, but that’s out and not using the supplies in the house. If Beloved is out he does the same thing. If I am home I will have another one or two cups in the morning followed by one or two cups in the afternoon. I typically have a cup of coffee after my evening meal as well. Beloved swears he doesn’t consume as much coffee throughout the day as I do. So, over the past few days he is the only one home all day and yet, and yet, the coffee supply has been depleted more than if I had been home all day.

For the record Beloved also states that he does not touch the coffee supply, as in he does not put things back in the pantry if he feels we have too much in the kitchen. (If he were doing so, it should be noted that he is not placing it back in the original location.) So something seriously rotten is afoot within my abode. And I do not like it. Not one little bit.. I am, in fact, close to throwing a fit! I am tempted, yes tempted indeed, to set up little cameras and see what is happening with my coffee supplies. Beloved, of course, has decided the action I wish to take is crazy. He also thinks I am forgetting what day I actually replenished the coffee. In other words he thinks I am imagining this whole thing. Except there is that minor detail. Just a small one really. About the missing coffee that is not being found anywhere else in the house.

So if anyone can spare some time to find what is rotten and afoot within my house I would greatly appreciate it. After this is solved I will send the person(s) back to dealing with the state of Denmark for Marcellus. And yes, in case you are wondering, this coffee thing is a major offense, and the ultimate punishment should be inflicted upon the offender.


We humans are creatures of habits.  We like consistency or at least routine.  Even those of us who claim we don’t, we do.  Want the proof, simply take away a standard routine in your day and see what happens.

Allow me to share, every Monday I receive a motivating and/or uplifting practice to try.  Yep believe it or I do try to add positivity and motivation into my life; having an unrelenting chronic illness can leave you feeling negative and unmotivated.  Anyway every Monday I get one of these emails in my inbox. I look forward to these emails even if all I do sometimes is just read the email.

Yesterday I received an email stating that author of these wonderful things is taking a break for four months.  Of course she is entitled to a break, but suddenly I’m unhappy.  Not because she is taking a break and not because I am applying everything in each email.  Nope that is not what makes me unhappy, instead it is this sense of being set adrift with no directions to follow.

My routine, those moments I spend reading the email and contemplating applying the information, is suddenly been messed with.  It’s not a big deal and I’m already over it, but let’s face it, when someone takes our usual parking spot, it darkens our day a little.  You have a favorite spot for your yoga mat and someone else takes it, well even if you won’t admit it to anyone else, it sucks.  Why because your routine, those moments of consistency and dependable results are somehow soothing.

Of Routines And Dogs

The four-footed one has changed up her routine.  Not because of anything  we have done, this is all her.  Unfortunately the routine she is altering up is her pre-bedtime routine.  We use to have calm time before we went to bed.

Now we have insane wild time and then impossible tasks such as settling down for sleep.  Instead the bedroom has become a play place and bed seems to be where we go crazy rather than find a comfortable place to flop down and sleep.

Speaking of sleep, who needs a rooster with the four-footed one around.  She has decided getting up an hour before sunrise is ideal.  And as for falling asleep, let’s not do that before midnight.  Of course she naps during the day and for whatever while she is a light sleeper at night, during the day a bomb could go off and it wouldn’t wake her up.

She will, no doubt, change this routine again.  Hopefully soon.  And hopefully back to sleeping during the night because there is only so much you can ignore when it comes to being smacked with a paw before you have to get out of bed and deal with it.  And once you get out of bed for some reason she thinks this means chase throughout the house.

How on earth do parents deal with messed up baby sleeping patterns for months on end? And the four-footed one is only one small dog.


A Walk In The Park

Five or six mornings a week I go for a long walk around sunrise.  The four-footed one was less than thrilled when I started this routine, but she seems to enjoy the different smells that are present this time of day.  I secretly think she enjoys the fact that the birds are a bit more sluggish and therefore easier to chase at this early hour!

I enjoy the stillness of human activity while we walk.  A lot of mornings the only sounds and beings we encounter comes in the form of birds, squirrels and such.  People on bikes or driving cars form the last part of the scene, the portion where we are almost home.  This sudden onslaught of people reminds me just how noisy humans are.

Most mornings I look forward to reaching certain points on our walk so I can take pictures of what nature generously shares with me.  However some mornings I don’t look forward to these pauses the same way.

Some mornings I see each of these stopping points as a goal to reach.  On these mornings I don’t measure the walk as whole, instead break it up into se stopping points and remind myself that if I really cannot do it, I only have from the stopping point to home rather than the full walk.  I try to not have too many of these mornings because they mean pain, stiffness, exhaustion and all the other fun things that come with a case of flaring lupus.

On a few of these lupus mornings, I cannot even enjoy what nature provides, I can only focus on one foot in front of  the other.    Thankfully those morning are few and far between.  Unfortunately the mornings where I can ignore my health and focus solely on nature are never as many as I wish for. But each morning is a new opportunity.

A Tea For That

A thin, completely breakable China cup of tea was pressed into my hands.  A plate of scones was expertly moved across the table towards the chair I had just moments earlier collapsed after making it home.  Tea is Beloved’s answer to everything.  You get bad news?  There’s a tea for that.  A need to celebrate?  He’s got you covered with just the right brew.  The man has a tea for every emotion you could be facing.

Scones, while not mandatory, are added comfort offered when required.  And yes, when he’s around there are always scones just made, in the midst of being made or stored for freshness.  I suspect he uses the scones to gauge how bad the news is…he worse the news is the least likely I am to eat a scone.  At the same time I know he will make scones to toss in the freezer when he needs the therapy.  Yep Beloved bakes for therapy now and then.

It’s funny how no matter how often you receive bad news, or deal with the darker sides of humanity, you still never get used to it.  And so the tea keeps coming while the specialists still try to sort out the latest results.  Sometimes, after these appointments, Beloved shows up with the tea in a thermos and the scones in a container.  Because sometimes, according to Beloved, the specialists need the comfort as much as the patients.

But on this day he had not come with me nor did he show up after the appointment.  I came home to scones and a whistling kettle.  Because on this day we already knew that the news would not be cheerful.  It was just a matter of degrees really, kind of like how you take your tea–degrees of temperature and sweetness.  

Typically I’m used to the roller coaster that is lupus.  But now and then after an amazing climb the sudden rush down is not what I was expecting.   This is when Beloved and his tea comes into play.  Not that I’m much of a tea drinker, but because there is comfort in his rituals of comfort.  There is routine in his methods, and sometimes that’s enough to stay on the roller coaster known as lupus.  Shame he can’t find a tea to deal with lupus for once and for all.

Avoiding The Unavoidable

I’ve been putting off tomorrow’s appointment for as long as I can.  Now I have nothing against this doctor, honestly he is a sweet and helpful man, but I just have been avoiding seeing him.  Because we both know where this appointment is going.

I would have continued to postpone this appointment, but while trying to get a prescription refilled I was told I had to actually see the doctor this time.  Gulp!  Oh sure he will be his usual pleasant, polite self as he tells me we are out of options.  No more putting this off.  And I will sit there in that small black chair and grasp at some other straw.  Anything other than a hospitalization.  Again.

Last time we danced around this very topic I was literally saved by the bell.  The fire alarm to be exact.  Going off down the hall so we got evacuated and by the time I got back, I had figured out my strategy was to take another six months just to really test how the current medication was or wasn’t working.  I think because he was somewhat distracted by things, he agreed to my request.

Short of getting another fire alarm this time, I somehow doubt I can ask for another six months of poor results and further health complications.  And it isn’t that I want to get worse, I just.  Look it’s a hospital.  Not my own home.  It’s not my bed, not my things and not my routine.  It means needing help…more than I care to have.  It means being vulnerable..more than I care to be.  And none of these things comes with the promise of getting better.  If I’m lucky they come with the promise of being stable.  Which frankly would be nice, I suppose, but it’s been so long since I’ve been stable I am kind of comfortable in my instability.

Of course Beloved has decided that my instability with how lupus affects my organs may migrate to making me irrational.  Why else, he wonders, do I put off what can help slow down if not prevent damage now.

Of course it isn’t him going into the hospital.  The freezing cold rooms.  The noise and smells.  The routine not like mine, the insistence that I rest when I have much still to do.  The food isn’t the same, the dogs won’t be there.  Oh I can draw a huge list, but before I get too far down the road, I will spend some time seeking straws to grasp for tomorrow’s appointment.