Tour de Farce

Today began with a list representing a tour de force. When the government made "adjustments" recently to avoid going over "a fiscal cliff," unexpected changes ensued. Suddenly we were faced with an arbitrary deadline to complete filing for Stan's mother's Medicaid: February 1! We were told on Monday, January 28 that all financial matters must be finalized by Friday, February 1. [Holy crap!!]

After completing a whole lot of stuff earlier, and treading water through three day waiting periods to close accounts, we set off to seal the deal, put the lid on, wrap it up, nail it down. This day is going to require a whole lot of coffee.

10:00 a.m.: Checked with our attorney and then stopped at Wells Fargo Investments, First Niagara Bank, NBT, quick run to the Post Office, [coffee stop @ Byrne], back to First Niagara, to the Federal Bldg., and STOP [12:30 p.m.]. Next/last major check will be ready at Merrill Lynch in Syracuse after 2:00 p.m.

What to do? What to do?? Pit stop at the Indians, and MORE COFFEE! And we're off again.

12:30 p.m.: Took $22 worth of cans to the recycling center in Oneida, took Route 49 north of the lake to Weeden's Antique/Variety Mini-Mall/Store. Bought nothing, but considered all manner of treasures, and on to Syracuse.

2:05: Downtown Syracuse on South Salina, to Merrill Lynch. Picked up final check to close out last account, thanked the nicest people in the world at Merrill Lynch [pleasant, co-operative, HELPFUL]. Called attorney again to report final totals and headed back to Clinton.

3:30 p.m.: Attorney called with final instructions about cash distribution/accounts.

4:10 p.m.: To First Niagara, to NBT to use two existing accounts and open one new account. Reported success to attorney, headed back to First Niagara to close last account. On to post office again, and to Hannafords for a rotisserie chicken. DONE, THROUGH, FINISHED.

It would appear that we have, indeed, completed the paperwork necessary to secure Helen's Medicaid payments. My arm is exhausted from waving around the Power of Attorney all day.

What began as a Tour de Force degenerated to a Tour de Farce. A silver Prius with the speed of light, a splash of slush and a hearty Gimme the Money! The Lone Money Changer rides for the Last Time!

Just as a puppy can be more of a challenge than a gift,
so too can the holidays.

~ John Clayton


I'm sorry to hear that Pres. Bush 41 is having such a difficult time. He's a good man. We are suffering here with what is apparently the same viral syndrome. We've taken to calling it Presidential flu. It has been going around, and we started our first bout at Thanksgiving time. We've done the cough, the nausea, the fever, the aches and the weakness. Then we did it again - and we are on our third round. Just deciding that we are better isn't enough. Mind over matter. Just suck it up doesn't work with this one. We're currently hoping that antibiotics do work!

Due to the persistence of Prezflu, Christmas and Hanukkah were cancelled here. I began to think about wrapping presents. And making shortbread. Sending out Christmas cards. Getting the tree up. How 'bout the lights on the porch? Need to marinate the turkey.

I decided to sit down and think about it some more until it was a reasonable time to take a nap. We finally decided that we didn't want grandchildren to get sick. Stan's mother at the nursing home was already sick - and NO ONE would be allowed a Christmas visit with her. And I was pretty sure I couldn't even LIFT the turkey.

We'll try again in January.
We have lots of birthdays then, too.
Makes a lot more sense.

So - Ho, Ho, Ho, y'all.
~T, 12-27-2012

Now I lay me down …

I don't come from gun people.
No one in the family ever hunted.
We were lake folk and fished.

I went to high school with hunters.
I also went to school with chess players.
Both were equally foreign to me.

I've always been grateful to police -
And military for their willingness to protect.
But I'm really squeamish about guns.

I'm not anti-gun or second amendment.
It just never had any relevance for me.
One way or the other. I don't know what to do.
But somebody needs to do something.

[And yes - I'm still somebody -
But - I really don't know what to do.]

~T, 12-16-2012

O Holy Night …

This is a great time of year. For me, Christmas is a religious celebration. I look forward to the spirituality and anticipate the joy. It happens in my heart and in my church. Knowing that it will always be the same, brings "comfort and joy."

Independent of my personal feelings for Christmas, a couple of other things happen in that same timeframe. It's almost the same as fourth of July. The family gathers, the love flows, it's the "hap -hap - happiest time of the year."

The tree goes up with a lot of handed-down, handmade ornaments and the familiar angel on top. Some came from earlier family trees that Stan and I remember from our family homes as children. A few were wedding presents! Then we bought some early in our marriage for much smaller apartment-size trees.

In the early '70's, toddlers looked with wide eyes on the lights, the sparkles and the shine. They learned that the celebration involving the tree is a commemoration of the baby Jesus birth. As they grew, the separated the story of Jesus from the tree. Both were important in different ways.

The tree became an instrument of family history. "Remember the elves!" "Remember when we made the strawberries!!" "Wow, we still have the cookie angel." "Wait!! It's Jean's job to put the angel on top." "Why does SHE get to do it??" "Because she always has!"

The tree is central. Everyone helps to decorate when the clan gathers. Each year we reflect on who is missing. We trash talk those who just didn't come home - for whatever reason. We miss those are are gone. While trimming, we always eat the same cookies [Grama Bette's anise angels - now made by Jean, Roberta Sachs shortbread and Grama Terry's peppermint meringues] - though we added peanut butter buttons when Dan joined the family.

When he was little, I loved watching Julian's eyes widen as he viewed the assortment. Then there was Gabe's excitement starting with the lights. And then Sam who marveled at absolutely anything, taking great pride in the handmade ornaments that he and Gabe added. Don't they look awesome, Grampa!

It's about family and memories. And as I said, knowing that it matters and will always be the same, brings "comfort and joy."

More Than Fifty Shades of Gray ~

I love the enigma that is winter in Central New York: the drama, the mystery. Each day dawns and there is always the question, “What's the weather like today?” Sometimes it's - “What's happening outside?”

It's always cold. Sometimes there is snow - especially if you live along the Tug Hill Plateau. Often there is wind, making the wind chill factor of interest.

But the real question is always, “What shade of gray?”

Each day a paradox. For example, today the sky is lighter than Cinder Block. I would call it dingy laundry gray. That Tunisian Taupe - that beige/gray that you get when washing clothes in water that isn't quite clean [frequently seen in third world countries].

So, the excitement builds. What color might tomorrow bring?

~T, 12-1-2012

Just one of those days … [Repost]

In 8th grade, some of us were assigned to home rooms in the high school because there was not enoughroom for all of us at Parkway School. Some envied us – the access to older guys, being able to make friends with some of the older girls, an opportunity to learn about “important things.” I was terrified. My father was a teacher at the high school. He was strict and imposing. Lots of people were afraid of him. I wasn't afraid of him, but I wasn't eager to have him aware of everything I did all day every day either.

I tried to blend in and basically get lost in the traffic, sit in the back and keep quiet. Then Miss Hanicker happened to me. [Not just me, of course. It just seemed that way.] I was sitting in the back row in Miss Hanicker's math class. She called on me to solve the problem written on the front blackboard. Unfortunately, I couldn't see clearly enough to read the board. Miss Hanicker moved me to the front row for the rest of the class, and then sent me to see Mrs. Brady, the school nurse.

Mrs. Brady checked my eyes using the big Ǝ E eye chart. Then she called my father! He clearly did not understand the situation. He asked, “Are you doing this to get attention??” Was he kidding? [He was not!] I was trying to be invisible and I had been singled out on the very first day of 8th grade! In front of the entire class! And then they called my father!! What else could go wrong? Clearly, I did not fully grasp the situation yet either!! I had not yet realized the potential outcome! So my father conferred with Mrs. Brady and then called my mother, who called Dr. Farrell for an appointment for my eye exam.

After school, I got on the city bus and went to Dr. Farrell's office on Genesee Street. Dr. Farrell was so nice, and tried to break the news gently but there was no easy way to say it. I would have to wear GLASSES. GLASSES, for heavens sake!!! “But I can't wear GLASSES,” I said. “I already have BRACES!” That was one of the worst days of all my time at the high school. But the next day, I picked up my new glasses anyway.


We all have “worst days.” I'm grateful that I didn't have that many, and that mine were usually behind me before I had too much time to reflect on them.

Phantasy Phat …

For most people, the umbilicus [belly button] is the site of attachment to their mother in utero. After birth, it has no function but is often embellished with jewelry or tattoo.

For me, it is where the capricious Loki-like transplant trickster spirit attaches the valve and hose each night to pump me up. The goal is to "twin" the Michelin man, I think.

I DO take a lot of pills, and most of them list weight gain as a side effect. I never expected that it mean IMMEDIATE weight gain. If I take my morning meds with a cup of black coffee and then get on the scale - I have gained three pounds. That's not transitory weight, just temporary. Oh, no. No yo-yo-ing here. That's PERMANENT weight gain. Oh, yeah!

For those who understand, no explanation is needed.. For those who do not understand, no explanation is possible.