no really, don't get up

this is how chopin and i spend the majority of our days. or the last two days at least. while i do not require that my spine become bendy and pretzel-like, i do love sleeping just as much as she does. today, i felt guilty that we were so lethargic and decided to go on an invigorating walk around the block. chopin pooped in someone's yard while i cringed and looked around to make sure no one saw, as i did not bring a baggie. by the last uphill climb to return to the house chopin and i were not happy. i looked at her and she looked at me. she mentally said "carry me?" and i vocally said "we can do this!" while mentally saying "we are lazy and are being punished by the fitness spirits who we have neglected." i trudged up the hill while chopin let the leash stretch out the the maximum 14 feet before slowly following me. if i stopped so she could catch up, she sat down - keeping just enough tension in the leash. that is when i understood: i am now the sled dog pulling my cargo up the mountain. great.

this is the face of dad on drugs

contrary to popular belief, i am madly in love with drugged up george. it is wildly better than the alternative and, though things may be more difficult, he is a lot sillier and happier (most of the time). today things got hilarious when i woke dad up during his afternoon nap. he had physical therapy in 30 minutes, which i felt was ample time to eat lunch and go to the bathroom. dad, however, felt this was not the case and couldn't stop muttering about he hates to be rushed. he swore he couldn't even fully chew his lunch he was so rushed and kept counting down (incorrectly mind you) the minutes until the lady would be here. when he had 2o minutes left, he shouted 12 MINUTES, panicking she was almost here. i couldn't stop laughing at his ridiculousness precisely because it is so typical of my dad before all this, just more pronounced because of the drugs. plus, he was sitting up the whole time he was yelling because his pain was no longer as intense, which is of course a miracle. see those 3 patches on the strong arm of the law? super duper magic. and in the words of tenacious d: tribute.

protocol must be obeyed

i have a lot of systems for living life. i don't pay attention to things enough to remember them later. 'did i already brush my teeth?' and 'did i take my medicine?' are my two main concerns. maybe other people have these problems, i'm not sure. maybe i just have enough time (and the luxury) to be incredibly forgetful and lazy - really brushing my teeth and taking my medicine are the two things i MUST do every day, everything else i am fine going without. however, due to my inability to remember, i've tried to compensate. i've got systems. when i wake up in the morning, if i take my medicine i turn on the fish light. additionally, if i brush my teeth the toothbrush goes from the right side of the sink to the left. without these clues in my day, things get dicey in the morning. usually i brush my teeth twice and don't take my medicine if i am unsure; it seems like the best backup policy. these systems have been explained to mom, who now understands the ramifications of well meaning interference with said objects. from now on you can expect my morning routine to be flawless. lies. but definitely better than life without aforementioned systems in place!

all the small things

i'll be the first to admit that i am not the best at loving people. i try to be good, but love is hard work. especially, i would imagine, being in love and sharing your life with someone day in and day out. so in hopes of figuring a little bit out i watch my parents. and i think i've figured out what love is. love is, after taking care of someone for 15 years, continuing to take care of them like it is the first day all over again, with enough patience and grace that they know it will never run out. this was especially illustrated to me the other day. i take care of dad all day long. i am rarely sweet about it. when he wakes me up at night and needs water, i go into the sink in his room and get it from the faucet. when he needs his blankets pulled up, i give him the evil eye and tell him he can do it himself. when he wants the phone during the day, i audibly sigh, grab the phone, and throw it onto his bed. i am zero great. my mom is another story. she wakes up after a few hours of sleep, makes dad breakfast and gets him into the shower and dressed. she goes to work all day. she comes home and takes over while i go out. once he goes to bed she tries to catch up on cleaning the house and work. then she sleeps a few hours and it starts again. but when my dad asks for water, she puts ice cubes in it every time. and to me, that's love. amen.

ice ice baby

dear winter,
where have you been? i miss you a lot. covering the bushes with ice hardly counts, especially since it occurs at night when it can only minimally be appreciated. please come visit. let's go sledding. let's make igloos in the front yard that get so warm inside (magic). we would have a lot of fun, i promise. forget about the heating bill, i will calm barb down AND put an extra layer on george. enough shenanigans, it's time to get serious.

love and kisses,
nancy

my backyard is a forest

..................today
............i saw three
.......deer through
..........my window
...................and
..................this is my attempt to make a poem
..................that looks like a deer to convey how
..................pretty the three deer were in the back
...................yard of the neighbor they stayed all
...........................day......................... and
...........................sat ...........................in
..........................the ......................... sun
.........................and ........................ were
...........................ha- .........................ppy

covert ops

george and i not only spend the day together, but we also communicate regularly throughout the night. while a mere wall separates us, we have found that him screaming my name to wake me up is highly inefficient. not only is it incredibly stressful to wake up to, there is also the problem of me waking up. unlike my ever attentive mother, i was not born with bionic ears nor am i interested in what the rest of the world is doing while i remain asleep. without the harsh digital beep favored by every alarm now known to man, i remain blissfully unaware of george's needs. thankfully, dad now uses his portable phone to page the portable phone next to my bed. before this genius move however, the bells employed walkie talkies. for some reason walkie talkies never really entered the scope of my childhood so i had never played with one before. dad and i went crazy on those things since we felt it lent the air of international espionage to our day to day activities. the crackle as you push the button, the ability to talk in different rooms while pushing a button which also keeps the other person quiet, the special vocabulary utilized on a top secret mission - incredible! we developed code names and detailed every movement of my mom. "breaker one, this is agent n. barb is unloading the heating pad from the microwave"..."breaker two, your mother has now entered my room and is handing me the heating pad. she's a beautiful woman your mother"..."roger that, demetri. mom is back in the kitchen pouring a cup of milk"...."breaker two, tell your mother i love her. i also need some medicine". unfortunately, the walkie talkies ate through batteries at supersonic speeds and the era of demetri ivanoff and agent n faded away. it is both a blessing and a curse. over and out.

better than crack cocaine

i am madly in love with the guinea pig. george may <3 roxie, don't get me wrong. yesterday he fell and was in terrible pain but when mom put that guinea pig on him, he felt 100 times better. he even said, "oooh, the guinea pig does make me feel less pain!" however, i maintain that my love of roxie is deeper, truer, and way more ridiculous. every time i walk past that cage, i talk to the guinea pig. i pick it up and live for the purr that so rarely happens which means it's really, REALLY happy. even though it pooped on me 3 times today and peed on me once, when i came home tonight i still held her and kissed her. george never kisses her. he doesn't remember the specific cooing noises. she pees on him; only once he forgets does he welcome her back. i am the one who remains entirely conscious of her history and continues, in spite of these occurrences, to remain dedicate to the pig named roxie. never in my life did i expect such a love to occur. but now that it has, i can't get enough of it. there is something so fantastic about a rodent-like creature nestling against your neck, making loud squeaking noises, that transforms a normal day into something roxie-riffic. LONG LIVE THE PIG!

born to be wild

today chopin was truly majestic. and as one who daily encounters her nasty face, terrible breath, and soul-killing barking, it takes a lot for me to say that. but, even in this picture, she glows. she exudes confidence. when it snows, the land is hers! since there is really nothing i love more than a snow storm at night, we went on an an expedition last night. i think we walked for at least 1.5 hours and chopin pranced like a puppy the whole time. hip dysplasia be damned, she's a sled dog gosh darn it! today, she eluded capture for the majority of the morning - refusing to come in for breakfast and keeping things on lock down in the yard. i finally laid on the deck, faking death spasms and she trotted over. at that time, i snapped this photo: her eyes on the horizon, ready to transport my body across the alaskan tundra if only i was strapped to a dog sled. chopin has got my back. mush! mush!

yay snow

afternoon & night.

oh george

despite peeing on him every single time, dad continues to place the guinea pig between his knees then cover her with two blankets. warning dad makes no difference; he believes she loves it and does not really believe she has peed on him. and IF she has, it was clearly because she couldn't hold it anymore - not because she was scared. today was day 3 but my first day with this particular situation. it went a little something like this: after roxie pees, i proceed to go into dad's room and retrieve a new pair of underwear, pants, a wet washcloth, and dry towel so he can take care of the situation. we develop a plan in which he will be fully covered but i will help him. after he has removed his soiled clothing, he covers himself with a towel and hollers for me to come help. he has put the wet washcloth on the new clothes, soaking them. i go back into his bedroom while he yells at me that he will be just fine in wet clothes, thank you very much. i come out with the new clothes and put them around his ankles then leave. at this point chopin has joined the parade and has sat on the bottom of dad's pants, not allowing him to pull them up fully and causing him to lose his balance and fall back on the bed. his sudden movement frightens the dog who starts barking frantically. dad is saying ouch ouch ouch ouch over and over again. i continue to hide in the other room, far away from the family jewels which are presumably still exposed. oh george.

reiki 4ever

i came home today and an energy healer was here. i promised in my head that i would never talk about friends/other people in the blog but i'm breaking the rule. moving on. the energy healer is also a good friend and our family has known him and his family forever. he is a reiki master and knows about all sorts of other eastern energy healing techniques as well. my family is totally into all of this stuff and when he works on any of us we are so so thankful and appreciative. plus he is our friend so you'd think that would make it even better. but we're kind of in awe of him and don't really know how we should behave around him. he's clearly human, but i also think he just operates on this whole other level of consciousness and such. so, in the bell heads, he's kind of half human, half medicine man, half amazing. he's like 1.5 people, get it? after the energy healer had been at our house for 3 hours working miracles, we were in even more awe and had also started to feel guilty we were hogging him. mom, who is unfailingly considerate and polite, said, "thank you so much etc. but we really couldn't possibly take up anymore of your time" since in our heads we imagine his life to be filled with important other worldly matters and not the nonsense of mere mortals. which is why it was the best ever when he responded: no worries, i'm avoiding a super bowl party i promised my wife i'd go to.

perfect.

magic magic magic

today i was helping insulate windows. and really, how is fiberglass made of glass? it boggles the mind. which leads to the question, how is cotton candy made of sugar? there are just so many things that defy the limits of my small brain. things that you would never even think of yourself or that you are really impressed by. i never could have imagined trees on my own. definitely, never in a million years. i used to say "thank you Jesus" but then george started loving it and saying it completely in earnest and i felt a little bad meaning it but still trying to make it funny. so i've switched to calling the same sorts of things magic. i feel it's more socially acceptable. and i've been meaning to make a list of things that are magic. so let's do it.
1. windshield wipers
2. plants that come up EACH YEAR
3. when i needed a lighter and there were 5 in one pocket of a coat
4. the retractable leash
5. basically everything in the ocean
6. chlorophyll
7. glue sticks
8. every single bit of the human body
i could go on forever but i don't want to trivialize the magic-ness of the magic. i guess glue sticks could get taken off the list. and maybe the retractable leash. everything else is a must.