November Ramble

Regardless of all the tee lights and candles, scented, or not, I feel the darkness. Guess it's that time of the year again. We have had no snow yet. It's only naked bare trees surrounded by the murky darkness of November.

Every once in a while the sun comes out. On those days, I go outside feeling happy and smiling. And immediately have tears running down my cheeks, because the sun is so low, the glare of the beams hits you directly in the eyes. The reflections off of poodles and wet asphalt aren't helping. It's painful. I'm sure the sun is sending me a message about how hard it it is to come out way up here in the cold north. I almost shout back at her: "Alright I get it. Fine! You go back into hiding you vicious moody bitch!" But I don't, because even though my eyes are hurting, I feel her warmth, barely, on my face, and it is still healing.

***

Marianne is no longer a puppy *sad panda face* Now, when grumpy old dogs yell(read bark) at her, she'll reply likewise. She no longer throws herself down crying for mercy at tiny adult dogs we meet. She meets their gaze with a gaze of her own; C'mon, you mofos, bring it on, cause I'm not backing off anymore!

She doesn't get over the top excited by leaves blowing in the wind, anymore, either.  It makes me a bit wistful, but at the same time, she's not aggressive towards other dogs, which is good. Nor does she think the neighbour's garden ornaments are dangerous aliens out to get her. She's slowed down, calmed down, heck, she's lazier than I am. " Are we going for a walk, today? No? Goodie! I'll just nap on the sofa a bit more. Lets snore in tandem"


***

I did a proper effort regarding quitting smoking this fall. I got Champix from my doctor and started on them in August. It worked. I had cut down to a minimum and got started on the second stage of pills and freaked out. I was aware of the dreaming weird dreams thing, but this was a whole other game. The dreams turned into nightmares that left me exhausted in the morning. Childhood traumas kept popping up like spiders in a cellar. After a few days of total panic attacks with the sweating, shaking, hyper ventilating, I called the doctor and asked for help. The doctor was kind, sent off a request for therapy - which was denied, btw.

I sat down to think, because I don't normally get panic attacks. I'm usually able to notice them sneaking up and avoid them by change of mind set, etc. This was unfamiliar and scary.

It finally dawned on me - the damn champix pills. I quit and after a few days, the nightmares and the panic attacks disappeared.

So, I'm back to smoking, but I'm not losing my mind. I still have issues that sorely needs to be dealt with. I'll have to find a way to get help with that. Someway. Somehow. Sometime.

I'll just have to quit smoking the hard way, I guess. Ugh! Will have to get my big girl panties on and do it

***

Simen shot his first deer last weekend.  A nice young buck. Clean shot. I'm happy, he and his dadman are ecstatic. Christmas dinner is now fully provided. Which is a good thing, as we'll be the entire  clan Jakobsen this year. Runar and I are cooks, as usual. Dinner is at the inlaws. It'll be fun.

I taught the neigbour farmer up at Vintland how to knit. We're making a patchwork blanket together. Fun. I'm also chrocheting shawls. I've got to use some of the yarn I inherited.

I've broaden my horizon regarding erotic romances. I've read a few kindle books by someone from my AFP Facebook group and they were a lot of fun. Very sci fi, which I liked a lot.
I stumbled onto some BDSM type of audiobooks by going with some of Amazon's recommendations that had Runar die a million deaths. He'd moan, hide his face and claim" Eli, you're killing me!" when he walked in while it was playing on the stereo. Then he'd stop, look at me with an evil, devilish gleam in his eyes, asking "You're into this!?!" That had me freaked out. We agreed on there being something for everyone, out there. Now I'm using ear pieces. No more speakers. Sheesh!

***

My mom fell down and broke her hip this week. She had surgery yesterday. My dad and I are visiting her this afternoon. He wants to ride with me, cause he loves my new car. It's easy for him to get in and out of, and his wheel chair fits easily in the back. He's got issues with his dentures. He's got a denture set for his upper front teeth that keeps falling out while he eats. We've been visiting the dentist at least once a week for a month now, trying to get them fixed. It's tiring for him and painful for my arms/shoulders. He's shrunk a lot this last year, but he's still a big heavy guy and the chair is heavy. We also have to be very careful and mindful with his body, as his meds have thinned his skin to the point where the lightest of touches causes his skin to fall off in big layers. It's scary. He hates being old and fragile. He wants to die, but hangs in there for us girls. I love him. I know it's getting near the time to let him go. I can't talk about that, though. too painful.

Leave of absence

Today is Runar's last day at his old job. Because his boss-lady is a super great person, he's been given full pay out the month. He did have some vacation left, so it's not as if she's just handing him money for no reason, mind you.

I know I ought to remember the exact day he'll be starting at his new job, but I don't. It's been changed a few times and I get confused, but I think it'll be around the 25th.

We'll be heading up to Vintland tonight - if nothing else comes up - and we'll probably stay there for the next two weeks working in the woods, trying to get as many trees across the marsh while it is still frozen and safe to drive tractors across.

I'll be without internet and even though I do have the possibility to go online with my cellphone, it's way outdated and I can only read and reply emails, or facebook messages. If there is something I need to take care of, leave me an email and I'll take care of it when I visit my parents' house and can borrow their laptop.

We'll also be doing our best to quit our worst habit

So, unless we kill each other dead, see you guys in a week or two

Realizations, Geek-a-Week Card and ...ramble

I watched an episode of Dr Phil today. I knooow, when you sink to the level of watching daytime TV, things are bad. I've been through a bout of bad arthritis. My back has been aching nonstop for about a week, where the right shoulder just locks up every now and then. My mood has been murderous, to say the least, which is why I haven't blogged. Self-censoring is mandatory when I'm going through a period of aching. I become bitchy and angry, my patience is non-existent and even a good ole southern Norwegian "Åååhhrr!" (equivalent of '"Oh!) is said with so much feeling, I am THIS close to getting acid burns on my lips. I kid you not.

Anywho, I watched this show today about some women's addiction to food. Dr Phil told one of them that she used her hubby as an excuse not to mind what she ate and that eating when nobody saw, indicated she lacked integrity on a personal level.

I've realized that I am lacking in the personal integrity department. I am not up to par when it comes to my addictions. I am still struggling like hell with quitting smoking and so far I have only managed to cut down.

I've said it before, I think, addiction to food and addiction to nicotine must be somewhat similar. I guess any addiction is just as ugly and just as difficult to quit.

Runar has bought one of these monstrosities from one of his co-workers, along with two types of fruit tobacco that supposedly are nicotine free. One apple and one grape. They taste and smell nice enough, but the thought of us sitting in the living room puffing on one of these, just doesn't feel right to me.

There are the strong prejudice thoughts that only dopefiends use this, of course, but it's also a case of finding it just so friggin' tacky. I mean, it's a functional proper pipe and it works quite well, but...I don't know, it's just not very ladylike to be sitting puffing on one, now, is it?

Runar says that if we mix ordinary tobacco with the apple/grape mix, it can serve as a weaning off nicotine treatment. It can be our "carrot". If we don't smoke all day, we can share a waterpipe after nine, when we're sure we won't get any visitors. It might work and I will give it a try.

I believe I have to quit smoking alone, meaning I think I have to take the lead and show Runar it can be done. I know that his competitive nature won't be able to handle me quitting, while he is having to admit defeat.

There has been a change of plans with his old job. His notice-period(?) has been cut in half, because they found a replacement quickly and the other boss-lady has agreed to stay on and do the training. This enables Runar to start in the new job in a week, instead of May 1st. Even though his goal was to have quit smoking before starting in the new job, he is waaay too excited and stressed out about it to be able to cut cold turkey.

Why can't you buy willpower and self discipline on bottles?!?

...

I've been reading some new blogs lately. Among others I've read and lauged out loud by the stories this lady writes So Then... Stories and after subscribing and commenting, I received an email asking if she could put my name on her site, since I was her first Norwegian subscriber. She then asked me for my address so she could send me a T-Shirt and a button. I got the T-Shirt the other day and in the letter I was requested to take a photo. So here it is  Georg and I - in my So Then... Stories T-shirt up at Vintland in the snow. I wear wool long sleeved jumper underneath as it was minus 10 C. Georg is on it, because, c'mon, it's Georg. Simen is the photographer and as you see, he is more concerned about getting Georg's face in the photo, than mine. Totally understandable :P

Yesterday I found another letter in the mailbox. From SuperMary (Jenny's fairy Godmother) and TheBloggess telling me I had won a signed Geek-a-Week card.  The letter was also full of fairy dust glitter. Since I opened it sitting by the kitchen table, that means we'll be eating fairy glitter for quite some while, as I was unaware and typically ripped the envelope open and spread that glitter über des allez (This is Cara-German for everywhere). I'm gonna believe it gives me superpowers and will help me quit smoking!

I also realize that I have to pay attention to what I comment on and where I comment. I'm a bit too old to be die-hard fan of celebrities, no? Note to self: GROW UP CARA!

After reading Court's blog, I also realize I need to work on getting a better filing system for important papers. Plastic bags in wardrobes and in cardboard boxes in the attic, isn't very smart and neither is it fireproof. Gulp... It's on my list

PS! Last note confession

I've become addicted to audiobooks. For me, ordering them off http://www.audible.com/ is about half the price than ordering paperbacks from Amazon and it is less than 1/3 of what I have to pay for books in bookstores, over here. To put it in perspective; an audiobook costs me half a packet of cigarettes...yeah...mindblowing, huh?!? I still  have to limit myself to one book a month. I'm afraid I'll go completely nuts, if not. When it comes to books, I'm hopelessly helpless.

PPS!

Ooooh, as you may know, I'm a fan of Amanda F Palmer. On her blog she wrote about her mentor and friend who had cancer http://www.amandapalmer.net/blog/20121106/ and I in a bout of impulsiveness (it's me, after all), wrote Amanda's peeps and asked if I could knit him a pair of socs and if he wanted a pair, what size, colour, etc. What do you know, they got back to me and Anthony got back to me.  I ordered his book Lunatic Heroes waaay back and it finally arrived in my mailbox two days ago! Whee! If you have the money to spare and feel like helping out a truly nice guy, go buy it!  I'll be writing a review of it when I've read it, because I promised to do so.

PPPS!
I'mma stop being a stalker-like-fan. Promise!

Not resolutions, exactly

...but there are things I need to work on. I need to start taking better care of myself. No, I don't mean dieting to lose weight, have implants, or cosmetic surgery and all that nonsense. I mean eating better to make sure I am still around at 60, or 70, or even 80. I owe it to myself, my husband and my children. And you have to be realistic about these things, right?

1) Quit smoking
I am at a bit of a loss as what to do with myself to enable me to actually quit and not just cut down, quit for a week and start up again. I seem to be stuck in an endless stupid circle of quitting and giving up. I realize I am as pathetic as it gets. It's become an annual farce; Cara's quitting smoking. Again. Followed by lots of snickering and eye-rolling. 

Last year I bought E-cigarettes. Chinese. They were crap. I now know that there are much better ones out there, to a much better price too, but being realistic about it, they won't do me much good. I have to get over myself and up and quit. Period.

2) Eat better
Seeing how I suck at quitting smoking, how the heck am I going to lose weight if I get big?. Best to start watching out before that happens. And it will happen, at least to a certain extent. Hulloo! I'm mortal. I'm female. I've had 2 kids and I'm over 40. Duh! Also, genes. 'nuff said.

The reason I don't want to get big, isn't so much vanity, although it is that too. It's a fear of what the added weight will do to my arthritis. If the arthritis, the fibro and the psoriasis gets a lot worse, I'll end up the crippled wreck I've been told I'd be today if I hadn't kept fit. I can't fix my health, that train has left. All I can do, is slow the progress and I have to start now. I can no longer say I'll worry about that when I get old. I sort of am old, already...ugh!

3) Get outdoors more
I'm already going on walks at least 5 times a week and going for hikes in the woods once a week, or so (I go hiking more often during the summer months, but I don't go hiking at all when snow and ice rule my neck of the woods).

I need to aim for walks 7 days a week. I need to aim for going hiking in the woods at least 2 times a week. I'm contemplating photography as a new hobby. I suck at taking pictures, but I enjoy it and if I get into it, it'll help motivate me to get out into the woods more.

...

I've started on the going for daily walks, which doesn't really count as starting on any resolutions, because, you know, I go for walks, it's what I do.  But taking into account the state of the roads up here, yesterday, it was a huge feat and should count as a regular work-out thing. Actually I didn't go for a walk. Georg and I slip-slided along on our short route. I have several routes, the short one takes about 45 minutes and the looong one takes about 1.5 hours. This last week, the weathergods have been having their winter solstice heavy duty partying. Temps have been crazy. They've tipped from 5 degrees above zero, to 5 degrees below. In between it's been raining, snowing and sleeting. Results: wet, icy roads and frozen icy snow on everything else that aren't roads.

Georg being Georg and New Year's Eve having just happened, he needs a lot of encouragement just getting him out of the driveway. It's hilarious, such a big dog being so nervous and scared of everything. Well, we got going - I mean sliding and things were okay. I had forgotten to put on the crampons, but figured I'd be fine. We got to the part where I normally let Georg off the leash as it's a part of our route that goes down a forest hill.  There are no houses and the only people I meet are other dog owners. It's a pretty steep road. I let him go and after two steps I lost control, started sliding downhill and fell sprawling all over the road. I might have been hollering.  When I finally stopped sliding, and looked up, Georg was still standing rigid in the place where I took off the leash on top of the hill. His whole body language said; Danger! I'm not going down there. Actually, I'm not moving.

He didn't. In the end I had to crawl on my hands and knees, in the icy snow in the ditch back up to him, leash him and pull him until he started sliding too, at which point, he couldn't do anything but follow, so he decided that, alright, I'll move, but I won't like it! He kept giving me these looks that if they could have killed, I'd have been dead many times over.

We got down the hill and we got back home - no broken limbs - but hells bells, slip-sliding instead of walking is hard work. It took us more than an hour to get home. Georg was drooling  so bad he left trails of drool behind and  wheezing. Boy, he was wheezing like a cigar-smoking, whiskey-drinking blues artist in his late 80s by the time we got home. I wasn't much better off, just that I wasn't drooling...

No more walking without crampons. I need new ones. I have these types>>>
Just that all the studs have gone on one pair and only a few remains on the other. Still, one partially studded crampon is waaay better than none. Lesson learned.

Drugs

A friend invited me to one of those home parties last week. I hate all of those, but since I hadn't seen her in almost a year, I thought this was a good opportunity to get to see her and get an update on what was going on in her life. She's had health issues, some of them similar to mine and she's got a son the same age as Simen.

We used to hang out a lot a few years ago when both our sons and we practiced karate. She lived on a mountain farm and Simen loved to stay there during weekends. When I had to quit karate and Simen chose soccer practice above karate practice, we sort of lost contact, because of them living an hour away and the boys belonging to different school areas.

The home party was just as annoyingly boring as they always are, but it was nice getting to meet her and her grown up daughters, that I hadn't seen for a while. They were all doing well. The party was ending and I was getting ready to leave, when she subtlety asked me to stay behind for a bit. It was already late, but I figured there was something she needed to talk to me about, so I waited. What she told me was so shocking and depressing, I am still out of sorts.

Her son got into drugs and dropped out of school. He's been dealing and stealing with some of the worst scum in town. Naturally he owes a lot of money. Naturally they've threatened to kill him and naturally they've called her and threatened to kill him and her other children and grand children - these people are scum without honor as most drug addicts and dealers are - naturally she's given all the money she has and then some.

She knows giving into their threats aren't a good solution and that it won't help her son, but I'm not sure I'd be able to do differently if someone called while torturing my child and yelling that they're about to kill him and all you hear are screams of terror and agony... She's tried the child service, she's tried the doctors, she's tried the police.

Nobody can help her, because he is 17. Even though he is an underaged kid he is old enough that the child service can't  force him to seek treatment unless he does it willingly. He's a fracking drug addict. His addled mind is not capable of seeking help. This, apparently, makes no difference. What is wrong with this country?!?

Doctors can't do anything for the same reasons. It doesn't matter that he is underage. It doesn't matter that they have deemed him dangerously psychotic and in dire need of mental treatment in a closed institution. It doesn't matter that he in his most desperate moments have begged her to have him institutionalized to save him from himself and that she's been guarding him for 3 days straight to avoid him getting more drugs before doctor appointments to do just that. As long as the kid changes his mind and tells the doctors that he doesn't want to be put up for treatment, there is nothing she can do about it. What the fuck is wrong with this country?!?

The police can't do anything until he commits a serious crime and is put away to prison. There are treatment options in prisons. WTF?!?

Her health is worsening at a rapid speed. She's lost 35 kg since last I saw her. She's wasn't a big lady when she was relatively healthy, she's only skin and bone now.

She and her oldest daughter had worked nonstop for two weeks to get her son to agree to another doctor's appointment. They've been monitoring him, making sure he's eaten, making sure he's stayed alive. Chased away drug dealers. They were told that there was a possibility for them to get him forcibly admitted to a psychiatric institution. It was her last hope. They got him to the appointment. They thought, this was it. Finally it'll be over. Alas, he was sent home, the doctor told them that they would only be able to keep him for 48 hours as he wasn't suicidal enough.

I asked Simen about him. He told me that he was completely crazy and drugged out of his mind most days. He hadn't told me, because he knew it would upset me and he knew his mom already knew about it. He had talked to him on the bus the other day and all he had talked about were devils and saving the lambs of Jesus.

I talked to her on the phone after that last doctor's appointment. I transferred her some money for gas and food. I'll visit her today with bags full of groceries. I have no idea how to help her. I can't give her any more money. I can't save her boy. She's so desperate she's guilt tripping everyone around her, demanding they help her save her boy. I'm not sure I'd be any different if I were in her shoes...

I remember him as a bright kid. A somewhat hyper kid with ants in his pants, but incredibly smart and bright. He has ADHD, it may have been an extra trigger for him seeking out drugs, but not necessarily. He started hanging out with some boys who'd been in and out of foster homes. It may have been a trigger, but not necessarily. Sometimes there are clear answers to why kids start taking drugs, but not always.

Drugs are ugly and viscous. They ruin not only the lives of the drug addicts, but everyone around as well. I HATE DRUGS!