Tag Archives: husband Steven

Some Sort of Sunday

It’s not so much that I mind tomorrow being Monday.  It is more that I let another weekend go by without accomplishing much.  Then again, what did I hope to accomplish?  One might argue that I did not plan to fail, I failed to plan.  I hate it when people talk in sound bites.

That’s one way to make a Monday even worse.

One might also argue that weekends are for relaxing and recharging one’s batteries.  Do I feel recharged?  I don’t know, but at least I do not feel overly depleted.  I forgot where I was going with this.

A star-studded cast.

A good part of today was spent watching movies.  I enjoyed the Kenneth Branagh Murder on the Orient Express.  I found it to be a very sad movie, though, so I went back to my beloved Columbo (I don’t need to show the picture of Peter Falk again, do I?).

It’s trippy.

I popped in The Terror, because I find these old, cheesy horror movies relaxing.

I did not go there today.

Oh dear.  I looked through my Media Library for a graphic from Dementia 13, the next movie I watched.  Finding none, I downloaded one.  Somehow in the process, I added the above shot of my husband, Steve, and our friend Tracy at the Waterfront Grille in Herkimer, NY.  I just can’t bring myself to delete it so beg your pardon for the digression.

I did bring myself to delete the downloaded picture from Dementia 13, because it turned out too small.  I don’t know how to change the size.

I see I have gotten over 250 words with this nonsense.  I am going to call that respectable and go back to not accomplishing much.  I hope you are having a lovely Sunday.

 

Vermont Memories

I attempt a Throwback Thursday Post, because I do not wish to be making my Thursday blog post on Friday morning.  I thought that sentence might give me a little spurt of happiness by reminding me that tomorrow is Friday, but alas, not so much.  No matter.  On with the blog post.

Wrong season, so sue me.

This is a picture of the area of Vermont where some of my late husband Steve’s family lives.  I love the covered bridge.  Anyways, this was in my Media Library in April 2017, so I say it is a Throwback photo.

Nice doggies!

This is a really old snapshot, taken at Steve’s sister Ruby’s house, with one of those disposable cameras we used to use all the time.  It is Ruby’s dog Sapphire and our own Tabby.  I put it on a napkin and took a picture of it with the Tablet so Steven could share it on Facebook.  That may have been back in 2011, but I am not at all sure.  We never did learn how to use a scanner, although I think we have one my sister Diane gave us.

Gobble, gobble!

And here are some wild turkeys in Ruby’s backyard.  We had some wonderful afternoons and evenings sitting on Ruby’s deck, enjoying nature.  She had many small animal visitors.   She also had the occasional bear, but not when we were there.

Oh dear, I just remembered, I think there was once when we saw a bear although did not get a picture.  It was dark and we were looking out the kitchen window, as I recall.  If I recall correctly.  This is where it would be so nice to be able to turn to Steve and say, “We saw a bear at Ruby’s, didn’t we?” I am still getting used to widowhood.

There he is, with a friend.

On that note, I end with a picture of Steve.  He is at the So Sweet Candy Shoppe in Utica, NY, with our friend Margaret, the proprietress.  I guess that doesn’t really fit with my headline.  Does that mean I can also bill this as a Non-Sequitur Thursday Post?

 

We Like Wednesday

I was going to call this Also Not A Post, but I thought of the other just now when I turned off the burner on the stove and liked the alliteration.

The reason I thought of it just then was that I have formed the habit when turning off the stove of saying out loud, “Turning off the burner on Wednesday.”  Or whatever day it is, of course.  This is because I tend to forget those things I do automatically.  I kept calling my husband, Steve from work to ask him to check for me. This could be a problem if I went in early for overtime and he went back to bed.  Thus, the habit of reminding myself.

Now, sadly, there is nobody to check for me if I do forget, so it is good I maintain the habit.  Anyways, today I said my phrase and felt that usual spurt of relief that it is Wednesday and not Tuesday.  Um, I will admit that Tuesday is when I should have been making this post (according to my rules for me), but let us not worry about that now.

So, I guess Not Really A Post describes this post better than the title I chose.  Oh well, 200 words including a little tidbit about one of my weird things.  I’ll bill it as a Tired Tuesday Post and drive on.  Once again, thank you for tuning in.

 

Post Easter Post

When I made Saturday’s blog post on Sunday morning and said Happy Easter, it kind of left me without anywhere to go on Sunday evening.  I had a delightful holiday with some of my family.  As a friend put it, I have a wealth of family, and for that I am truly grateful.

That being the case, I feel I should not go on to make a Wrist to Forehead Sunday Post.  I mean, one does not go from having a lovely Easter Sunday to swooning, posed dramatically with the back of one wrist against one’s forehead, dreading Monday.  Does one?

Not exactly a swoon, but notice the placement of the wrist.

Here I am being dramatic in Dirty Work at the Crossroads, presented by Ilion Little Theatre,  directed by my late husband, Steve.  I always wanted him to direct again, but he never did.  This is a problem I am having.  At odd times, it hits me anew:  I will never see him again.

I’m sure anybody who has suffered a loss has these moments too.  I try not to feel that I am the only one to ever shed a tear.  Sometimes I think I am a bigger baby than most, but one does the best one can.

So I am grateful for my nice day with my nice family.  If I start to feel sad when I am home alone, well that is just the way it is.  I forgot where I was going with this.  Ah yes, just trying to make my Sunday blog post on Sunday.  We’ll call it a Wrist to Forehead Sunday Post and drive on.

 

I Hate Late

I read a quote from a writer, I forget who or even the whole quote, but it started, “One must be pitiless in the matter of mood…”

He is right, of course.  But it doesn’t really help me right now.  I am sitting here with my Tablet (the laptop-come-dining-room-tabletop is dying a slow painful death, as it gets slower and more painful to do anything on it), feeling it would be a good idea to make Saturday’s blog post even at this late hour.  Yet I also feel paralyzed by indecision and resistance.

I’m also a little hungry, although I did have some scrambled eggs earlier.

Lately I feel overwhelmed by all I need and want to do, with the vicious circle result that I do not do any of it.  Well, sometimes I do some of it.  For example, yesterday I worked on paying bills.  This is one chore my late husband Steve always did, and I was SO grateful that he did.  So naturally,  I am not only not very good at it, it is doubly painful, because it emphasizes once again that Steve is not here.

I guess this is another thing to be pitiless about.  I keep telling myself I have to learn to be alone.  So yesterday I sat down with the checkbook and a stack of bills and told myself, “Just pay one bill.”  This was me applying my method of Just Do One Thing.  I started by putting the bills in order of due date.  I hate to be late (blog posts notwithstanding).

Somewhere in the midst paying one bill online, one by phone, and writing a couple of checks, I felt a surge of… not quite happiness, but of not depression.  “I’m doing this,”  I thought.  Of course I have a lot more to do, but maybe I will be able to do it.

Hmmm… I guess the quote I referenced earlier did help me, because, look, I have blogged over 300 words.  I say “blogged” instead of “written” in deference to the Truman Capote line, “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”  Do you suppose if he were still around, he would sniff at my blog, “That’s not writing, that’s pecking in one letter at a time with the stylus”?

 

There Are No Words

I was reading a few other blogs hoping to get some inspiration for today’s post, and there it was: Wordless Wednesday.  If only I had a good, evocative picture to share.  Damn!

He was so handsome!

After looking through a LOT of pictures on my Tablet, I came across several of my dearly missed husband, Steven.  This one caught my eye, because I am wearing that same shirt tonight. I spilled a little sauce on it when I was eating supper.  I’d better remember to rub in a little soap when I take it off later.

Anyways, the picture was taken at Fratello’s Pizzeria in Frankfort,  NY, when we used to go almost every Wednesday for music and food.  That adds a little symmetry to the post, I think.

Full disclosure:  I did not want to make a cheerful, chatty post today.  I was rather inclined to give a grief update.  It occurred to me today that my sadness is just a chronic condition I have to get used to, like a bad back or knees (both of which I have, but they are not constant, so I count my blessings).  This is actually a helpful thought: Just something I have to get used to.  I can get used to something.

So I am over 200 words on this Wordless Wednesday.  I can never get these things right.

 

Not Much Brain, But a Nice Memory

I want to make my Sunday blog post on Sunday.  Unfortunately my brain is blank.  This is not an unusual situation for me.

“Did somebody ask for a brain?”

This is The Brain from the Planet Arous. Full disclosure:  I do not remember much about the movie; I just like to use the picture when I am feeling particularly brain dead.

Look at her giving him the side-eye!

And here is The Brain That Wouldn’t Die.  Mine obviously would.

There’s a guy with a brain!

I am still watching episode after episode of Columbo on DVD. Some episodes I pay more attention to than others.  Right now one is playing that I do not mind missing parts of.  Oh, wait, the plot just thickened!

Years ago, when my mother and I used to watch Murder, She Wrote on Sunday nights, at every commercial break, Mom would turn to me and say, “The plot thickens!”  I may have shared that memory before, but it is a good one.  My husband Steve always liked to hear it.  Sometimes I would remark that the plot thickened when he and I watched Dateline.  I do like a thick plot!

So I can’t remember much about The Brain from the Planet Arous, but I remember nice evenings with my Mom.  I’m OK with that.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

One Reason Why I’m Tired

I will tell you about my Tuesday.  The Mohawk Valley was hit with the nor’easter which I suppose is plaguing the entire state.  I can only suppose, because I have yet restored any real television to my television set (long story, not very interesting) (although I do not rule out making a blog post out of it at some point).  I arose in the morning with trepidation, prepared to dig out my driveway prior to departing for work.

Imagine my delight when I found that shoveling was not yet necessay.  I merely had to clean off my car.  I could see snow heavily falling, though, so allowed extra time, which I definitely needed.

Oh, the roads sucked.  I reflected as I drove down Rt 5 at 30 miles an hour, that a year previously, I had turned around in such conditions and gone home.  Full disclosure:  if my husband Steve were still alive, I probably would have yesterday.  In fact, Steve would have urged me in strong terms not to go in at all.  (“You’re NOT going to work today,” was the way he put it the time I turned around) (yes, I disobeyed a direct order, but let us not discuss the dynamics of my marriage).

Driving up Ilion Gorge was an adventure.  It was a decision whether it was better with or without high beams, because of all the snow.  The light reflects each and every flake, you know. I decided I liked it better with.

I further reflected (see what I did there?) that my drive was a metaphor for my current life.  I was going slowly.  I could not see very far ahead.  I was just trusting to be able to reach my destination (one day when I didn’t even try to get to work, I later learned a fallen tree had blocked the road anyways).  It was not much fun.

Actually it was a little fun.  As often happens, I had to laugh at myself.

Further trials and tribulations were in store for me as the day went on, but I see I am over 300 words.  I do not care to tax my readers’ patience at this time (but do not rule it out at some future date).

 

Some Kind of Saturday

It was not a particularly Scattered Saturday, because I was just not up to doing much.  I did manage to go for a run, slowly on slushy roads.  I wrote a few postcards.  I ran a few errands. I did a very little house cleaning.  I am watching a few movies.

The highlight of my day was running into one of Steve’s former co-workers.  She gave me a hug and said how sorry she was about Steve’s passing.  She told me how much she liked working with him and agreed with me that he was a really great guy.

When she asked how I was doing, in a rare moment of honesty, I said, “I’m falling apart!”  But then I pulled myself together and said that I appreciated the time we had together, over 30 years.  Of course I treasure the memories.

Being me, I had to add, “If anybody asks my advice about marriage, I’m going to say, ‘Marry a sonofabitch!  Then you won’t feel as bummed when they die!’ ”

She agreed with me and gestured towards her husband, who was, I believe, not listening to the conversation. Teehee!

To any friends and family who may be worried about me (although I am sure they all have much greater concerns):  I am not falling apart all the time.  These things go in spurts.  Anyways, in the best of times I rarely have my act together.  And so I carry on.  Happy Saturday,  everyone!

 

Another Stroll Down Movie Memory Lame

Hello and welcome to another late Lame Post Friday post.  I even got up up later this Saturday morning than I usually do, having stayed up later on Friday night.  I am sitting in silence, other than the sound of my furnace and the irregular tip tip tip of my stylus pecking in one letter at a time.  I hope to purchase a new laptop at some point.  Then I can ten finger type in more places and postures.

Yesterday was a Blogger’s Sad Day.  It would have been my husband Steven’s 68th birthday.  Birthdays were a big deal for him.  He always made mine special, and I tried to do the same for him.  I felt relieved that I did not have to work (took the whole day because I had an appointment).  I thought I should do something to mark the occasion.

Lots of screaming in this movie, but nothing like the scream queens of the ’70’s.

Since watching movies together was one of our favorite things, I popped in one of our all time favorites, House on Haunted Hill, the original William Castle version, starring Vincent Price (I have no use for the remake).  The first time we saw this, I was in the army.  We had taken the long drive to my first duty station, gotten signed into billeting, and had time to relax. It was a Friday, and I didn’t have to sign into my unit till Monday.  We saw House on Haunted Hill was going to be on AMC, back when AMC was good and showed all movies.  We loved it!

I think her braids are too tight.

Next I went to The Bad Seed, another long time favorite.  This goes all the way back to Norwood, NY, where we lived in the ’90’s and spent a considerable amount of time renting videos.  I miss those rental places!  I know, some people prefer streaming and the fact that they can sit on their butt in sweats and watch whatever.  I loved going to the place and walking around, finding things I didn’t know I wanted to find.

So this my stroll down Memory Lame.  See how I looped back to Lame Post Friday?  Sometimes I think I’m clever, but I daresay I flatter myself.