Category Archives: Wrist to Forehead Sunday

Another Doggy Sick Day, Please?

Full disclosure:  I don’t really need another doggy sick day.  My dog is on the mend.  She is not her happy, jumpy self yet, but she drank water, ate food and took her medicine.  Phew!  Thank you Mohawk Valley Veterinary Services.  But, alas, I do not seem to be able to write a really good blog post today.

 

It happened again.  There I was, in the midst of writing a blog post and I started not to like it.  I was even editing it, rearranging sentences, adding, subtracting.   I always feel like a real writer when I do that.

 

Oh dear, I can hear the critics now, “You can’t write and edit at the same time!  Write first!  Get it down!  THEN you can look at it and edit!”  This is one of those pieces of writing advice given so often that everybody just accepts as true for every writer.  Is it true for me?  Could be, because I just brought that post to a grinding halt.

 

The fact is. it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday for me, as it often is.   I am in a funk, and I have been in a funk.  However, I do not despair.  After all, I have my new plan of Finish That Novel May (yes, yes, it wasn’t my idea originally, but it is my plan now).  I still have four more days to gear up for that.  Four days is certainly enough time to find a way out of my funk.

 

In the meantime, I tell my critics that I will edit when and where I feel like it.  I will pet my dog and take her for a walk as soon as she feels like it.   I will write what I can when I can.  And hope that I still have readers.  Happy Sunday, everybody.

 

 

Well, Of Course It’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday

Surely nobody thought I was going to have a really good post on the last day of Fabulous Wine Tasting Weekend (and I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).  I am back home, feeling relaxed and happy yet thoroughly unable to write.  I know from experience that is deceiving. I can write something.  It just might not be any good.

 

Some female members of my family met at my sister’s house in Liverpool,NY, and from there we drove to the Finger Lakes, where we stopped at various wineries.  It was a great deal of fun.  The weather was perfect, the scenery divine and the company top notch.  I took lots of notes.  I may write a few posts about my favorite wineries (preview of coming attractions).

 

Steven and Tabby met us in Liverpool Saturday evening.  This morning, after a lovely walk around my sister’s neighborhood (she went too, so I did not get lost) (see yesterday’s post), we drove back to Herkimer.  Tabby is sacked out.  One of my favorite TV shows, Snapped, is on all day.  Soon I shall begin making a pizza which will feature green, red, yellow and orange peppers.  Yum (may write a blog post about that) (more preview of coming attractions).

 

Amidst all this activity, relaxation and enjoyment, I just can’t write a real post.  Hence, despite my feelings  of contentment, my wrist is on my forehead.  I hope you are all having a lovely Sunday yourselves.

 

At Least the Tea Will Taste Good

Looking back, I see that last Sunday I did a Running Commentary and two Sundays ago I had a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Today (Sunday, but I think you knew that) I had meant to have a Running Commentary but feel more inclined for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Perhaps a combination of the two.

Sorry to be tiresome about my health tribulations, but I have been plagued with headaches this week. It has been kind of an interesting plague, though. I seem to get a bad headache every other day. So at least there is some relief. I know, not for you from listening to my complaints. Well I don’t get much relief from my inner critic. We all have problems.

I was determined to run in spite of my headache. For one reason, the weather was supposed to be warmer. I spent part of yesterday staring out the window at the bare roads and sidewalks and WANTING to run or walk on them. But I was afraid the cold wind would bring on sinus pain. I ran in place on the mini-tramp. I watched more of that silent horror movie I had watched earlier in the week (perhaps you read my blog post about it).

When we first got up our thermostat said 18 degrees. Not the temperature I like to run in. I waited till after eleven. It was almost to 30. Only a few degrees below freezing. I could do this!

And I did. Unfortunately, I am not up to writing about it. I’m just not. I’ve taken a decongestant and will try the effect of another cup of hot tea. And try for a better blog post tomorrow.

Not Like a Snake Eating its Tail

Earlier today I was in the midst of a Mohawk Valley adventure and I was narrating in my head and I narrated the phrase, “I continued to narrate in my head…” And that amused me so much I stopped narrating in my head and contemplated how writing a blog has changed my inner monologue. I thought when I wrote my blog post I would mention how I narrated in my head that I was narrating in my head.

Just a quick question: is this like a snake eating its own tail? In other words, is it a sign I’m reaching the end of my usefulness as a blogger? SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

I believe in fact it ain’t so, but doesn’t it make a good lead for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post?

Steven and I had rather a delightful afternoon and evening yesterday. So delightful that I have had a bad headache all day today. At least, I’m guessing it is because I drank too much wine. I’m kind of hoping it is, because that means it will go away eventually. But it is a little embarrassing to admit to all and sundry that I overindulged (listen to me, all and sundry, like I have that many readers! Get over yourself, Cindy!).

So, yes, this is Yet Another Post About How I Can’t Write A Blog Post Today. I’ll keep it short. After all, perhaps my readers are having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday too and who wants to read a long blog post? Not me. Hope to see you Monday, when I hope NOT to type, “I had meant to write a real blog post today, BUT…”

I Pause in Doing Chores to Write…

Sometimes when you feel depressed, if you do a chore, and it makes you feel better. Sometimes it does not, but at least you got a chore taken care of. So you really have nothing to lose by doing the damn chore. No, making my blog post is not the chore I am thinking of. My blog is not a chore to me, I LIKE writing my blog, even when I can’t think up much to say.

The fact is, I am feeling down and have been for a while. I have mentioned that I suffer from depression. I don’t like to talk about it much, because I don’t want people to think I am looking for attention or trying to get out of doing things or — horror of horrors — just whining. Oh, well, I guess sometimes I am whining, don’t judge. But then I feel it might be good to mention it, in case somebody else might be feeling the same way. After all, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved; a joy shared is a joy doubled.

I think a lot of us are feeling the winter blues. In addition to the well-documented Seasonal Affective Disorder, some of us have been trapped in the house when we want to get out and about. I mean, there is no point in taking your life in your hands on icy roads if you don’t have to. Or maybe you’ve spent so much time and energy shoveling and snowblowing you’re too tired to do anything (but if you have a working snowblower, color me envious!).

For me, the lack of exercise is getting to me big time. I’ve taken my lovely dog Tabby for a couple of walks the last few days, watching carefully that her paws do not become snow-encrusted (must get her a pair of those doggy booties all the well-dressed canines are wearing). I shoveled this morning, which I believe does count as exercise. I know, there are any number of exercises I can do in the house, no matter what the weather. Sometimes I actually do them. Sometimes I just incorporate more movement than strictly necessary into my chores. That can be fun. Full disclosure: sometimes I neither exercise nor do chores. Don’t judge.

If you are wondering what the point of this post is, I guess there isn’t one. However it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. And expressing myself in my blog has made me feel better. Now I wonder if I shouldn’t do a few real chores…

I Held My Shoulders Still While I Typed

People who complain about their aches and pains all the time are tiresome. Then again, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. I just got back from a nice walk with my beloved husband and dog so had thought to offer a Pedestrian Post. We’ll see how it goes.

We got some blessed relief from the frigid temperatures today with highs reaching 30. I know that is still below freezing, but it didn’t feel freezing. As these temperatures had been predicted earlier in the week, I had been looking forward to a walk the past three days (since Wednesday, the last day a walk was miraculously possible). That was before the pain, the pain.

I am susceptible to muscle spasms, also known as a crick in the neck (no, really, that is what a physician’s assistant told me once). For the past couple of days I have had an alarming stiffness in my neck and shoulders. It hurts to move! It hurts to lie still! The only thing that doesn’t seem to hurt is complaining about it.

Nevertheless, dogs like to go for walks. I was determined that at some point Tabby would get one. The other thing I was determined on was that Steven would not have to shovel the driveway alone. It snowed like the proverbial sonofabitch yesterday. We got out prior to 7 a.m. and had at it. I particularly enjoyed looking down the road at the bare trees against the white-grey sky. I felt somewhat badass as well. Middle age ain’t for sissies, and neither is living through a central New York winter.

Steven worked from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. When he returned home he heated us up some coffee for us, and I whined and cried about my painful shoulders. He said it was warm enough to be getting a little messy outside. Perhaps a walk was not the best idea. I couldn’t wimp out, though. It is supposed to get frigid again starting tomorrow. We must carpe diem, as the coffee cup says (I actually don’t have a coffee cup that says that).

Steven nicely agreed to accompany us. Tabby was beyond excited as he changed clothes and we got ready. We only took a two block jaunt, but it was very enjoyable. The most interesting aspect of it was the irregular patterns of cleared sidewalks. Fortunately, we stayed on quiet streets so could go out into the road in relative safety.

When we returned home my only chore before the relaxing part of the day was to make my blog post. So this is it. I didn’t spend too much time complaining, did I?

Wrist to Turkey Neck

As usual, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. It’s not that I want to add to the litany of griping about the cold, but… damn!

I am cooking the turkey I purchased yesterday, in order to run the oven and thus render my house warmer. It is working nicely and smells pretty good too. It was a bit of a process getting it into the oven, as often happens with me.

To begin with, of course I did not plan ahead and thaw the damn thing in the fridge for two or three days. I had it in cold water in my sink all yesterday afternoon and evening. I set the timer and was pretty vigilant about changing the water every half hour, so I felt safe in doing this. By ten o’clock, I thought the bird was on its way to thawdom, so put it in the fridge overnight.

This morning I discovered that it was no such thing. The center was still frozen. I still was not too worried, because yesterday, when I was consulting the marginally helpful Internet for thawing tips, I had discovered that it is not a bad thing to cook a turkey from frozen. Then I thought I had remembered that you aren’t really supposed to rinse the bird, as I have always done and indeed as the plastic wrap said to do. Back to the Internet.

OK, don’t thaw, but take the giblets and neck out. I know a friend of mine once left the giblets inside the bird, still in the little bag, because she didn’t stuff the bird and didn’t know about the giblets (it was her first turkey), so I was not too worried. But I thought the neck might better come out. It was frozen in there. Damn.

I’ll just add than when I search the Internet I usually go to a site called GoodSearch, www.goodsearch.com, because it seems they donate money to charity (should I have mentioned that when I first mentioned searching the Internet? Should I not already know that, seeing as I have been writing for many years? Oh, it IS Wrist to Forehead Sunday).

The sites I was directed to said it was OK to leave the giblets in, as long as they were not in a plastic bag. Well how was I supposed to know if they were in a plastic bag if they were still inside the turkey? Back to the bird. At last I found the giblets in the neck cavity (the irony is not lost on me that the giblets were in the neck end while the neck is stuck up the butt). Not a plastic bag, but I took them out and put them in the pan as I usually do.

I didn’t mind the neck still being in the bird, because I knew it wasn’t in a bag, but there was a plastic doodah I thought I should remove and that was stuck good. Consulting my Goodsearch sources, I was delighted to find a place where the question was not only asked, they referred to it as a “plastic thingy.” Unfortunately, the answers were contradictory.

At last I resorted to rinsing the damn turkey. After all, every other turkey I have ever cooked I have rinsed and I’m not dead of turkey poisoning yet. But how annoying, as rinsing the bird has always been my least favorite part of cooking a turkey (there is that bad moment when it feels like a body, which in fact it is, but I prefer to gloss over my own carnivorousness). And the neck still would not come out.

Finally I said to hell with it and put the turkey in the oven, which by now was plenty pre-heated (although some sources say that if you are cooking something for more than an hour you do not have to pre-heat the oven. I must say the last thing I felt like at that point was to write a blog post about the ordeal. However, that was three hours ago, and now that I have actually written the blog post, I feel much better about everything.

The Last Pre-Show Post

Under the best of circumstances I often have a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Today I do not have the best of circumstances. I have pretty damn good circumstances, I will admit. But they are not ideal for writing a wonderful blog post. For this I have my dithery self to blame (the computer seems to think “dithery” is not a word, but I believe it describes me accurately).

At 2 p.m. begins the closing performance of Busybody, the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. It’s always bittersweet when a play ends. How could it not be? For better or worse, this script and these people have been a huge part of your life for, in this case, over two months. For “Busybody” it has been for better. Delightful cast, humorous script, wonderful audiences, great director and awesome light/sound guy.

And I will admit, it is not just my appreciation of the others involved. It is my own petty ego gratification, because I have a big part and, dammit, I am doing a good job. OK, not a perfect job. Last night there was a (to me) painful pause in which I suddenly remembered that the next line was mine.

“Ow, I know!” I burst out, in my Cockney accent (that’s why it’s “Ow” instead of “Oh”), pretending that my character had just now had a clever thought. The moment passed. Nobody seemed to care.

Lame Post Friday is the day for half-baked philosophy, or I would ask myself why it is I feel quite sheepish in saying, “I’m doing a good job.” Can I not appreciate my own success? I think I have been pretty clear that it is part of a group effort and not my own wonderfulness carrying along everyone else willy-nilly. These are questions for another day.

For now I will continue to dither and panic (well, maybe not panic, but certainly get butterflies) about getting to the theatre, remembering props and costumes, not to mention lines. Oh yes, and once again I’ve forgotten to eat. That I can fix. Have a nice Sunday, everyone. I’m off to break a couple of legs.

The Post I Should Have Made Friday

I am in full wrist-to-forehead mode. I have a headache, I keep forgetting what time I have to be at the theatre, I have to clean my upstairs and organize laundry, and I can’t think of what to write for a blog post.

I do have one shout-out to a local business. Friday, regular readers will recall, was opening night of Busybody, the play I am in with Ilion Little Theatre. I had rehearsal the night before but had gotten up at 3:30 that morning to work overtime. I got home from work before four, planning to nap till 5:30 or so. I found a note from my husband: “Honey- If at all possible, please don’t take a nap or your shower before 4:30. You will find out why. Love, Steve”

At first I was not best pleased. I had my schedule planned! Why was he messing with a nervous leading lady on opening night? Then I realized: it’s got to be something good. What sweet thing had my husband planned? And how could I modify my schedule to accommodate?

I ate some food. This was actually better. Obviously I had to have fuel in my body for the show, but it is a mistake to eat too much too close to curtain. This would work. And it didn’t take long. What else could I do? I turned on the computer, checked my Facebook notifications and email, then logged onto WordPress. And realized I was much too flustered to come up with a post.

Around twenty after four the phone rang. The caller ID said “Flowers by Suzanne.” So that was it! The nice lady on the phone asked said she had some flowers to deliver but wanted to make sure I was there, because it was much too cold to leave flowers outside.

Soon I was opening the door to the nice lady and a lovely basket of flowers. My schnoodle Tabby ran out to greet her, too. She may have gotten a little too friendly while I was admiring the flowers, but I got her back into the house eventually. The flowers smelled wonderful. I was delighted.

I still had time for nap, shower, and more butterflies before opening night, which I have already told you went well. And making this blog post has alleviated just a few of my butterflies for today. Once again, Busybody is at Ilion Little Theatre, 13 Remington Ave., Ilion, NY, today and Feb. 8 at 2 p.m., Feb. 6 and 7 at 8 p.m.

Flowers by Suzanne is located at 433 Mohawk St., Herkimer, NY, phone number 315-866-0206. Their website is www.flowersbysuzanne.net.

Breakfast Before Bear

I don’t know, do you like that title? I was in the mood for some alliteration but now I am questioning myself. I believe I mentioned that I have a bear of a week in front of me. That is an imperfect metaphor but one I have always liked. In general I feel my week starts on Monday and ends on Sunday, a view that I know is shared by many (I’ve even had calendars that reflected it). However, I have a marathon rehearsal today for the play I am in, which opens on Friday. So I feel my week is beginning today.

To start the week right, Steven and I went to breakfast at the Herkimer Elks Club. I know I have mentioned that the Lady Elks put on a breakfast on Sundays in January to fund their projects for the upcoming year. It’s the bomb. We watch for it every year and attend if at all possible. This year it has been possible three times. Score!

We got there the earliest we’ve been yet, shortly after 8:30 a.m. There was no problem finding a parking space or a place to sit. We both enjoyed eggs over medium, wheat toast, homefries with onions, coffee and juice. Additionally Steven had pancakes and bacon while I had baked beans and sausage. The cook even put a smiley face on Steven’s top pancake. As we left the breakfast several members of the Elks thanked us for coming. We thanked them for the delicious breakfast, saying we look forward to it every year.

“See you next January,” I said.

I confess I feel too preoccupied to write a better blog post today. I must study my lines and organize my costume. And nurse the butterflies I am beginning to get in my stomach. Everyone assures me I am doing a good job in this play, but how do I know they are not just being nice? Or hoping for a self-fulfilling prophecy? I bet a lot of you thought I was going to skip Wrist to Forehead Sunday. No such luck!