A day of happy news

First things first: Happy Birthday to my dear friend Jim, he who first dubbed me Beerma. It's a special day because he loves to pick at numbers the way a nit-picker picks louse eggs. When he was my housemate and turning 44, he proudly announced that his age plus the year of his birth ('55), equaled the actual year we were in ('99). Clever, huh? And now his birth year and his age are the same. So enjoy 55, Jimmy. I remember it fondly ...

Next, the money woes are over. My generous HR department is paying me throughout my leave in spite of the snafus (see "Cure for low blood pressure" blog from 1/28). There are no strings attached that wouldn't apply to a regular employee, and I'm only being asked to work as much as my recovery allows. That's something I've been doing anyway, so no hardship at all. I can't describe the relief. Well, yes I can. It's like that moment you get home from a long grocery shopping trip and realize that you're about ten seconds from peeing your pants. You fumble through unlocking the door, dumping the bags in your arms and racing downstairs to the bathroom just in time ... aaaahhhh.

Here's a news item that should keep us all humble, especially on those days where every muscle aches and we feel we're just too damned old for all this. My mother, my 77-year old mother we fondly call Eeevil-lyne and Grammy, went to work today for a tax-prep company. She'll be doing part-time jobs like answering the phone, setting appointments, filing and "a little billing work on the computer." I'm confident in her ability with the first three and made her take a notebook to detail the steps for the last. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for her and truly do marvel at her ambition. Most 77-year old widows would consider a job ancient history, but for Evelyne, it's one more challenge to conquer. To celebrate, she's taking me out to Dead/Red Lobster for dinner. Thanks, Mom.

This morning I had my first shopping outing. Beth drove me around, first to visit Aaron who's still beyond darling, and then to the absolutely fabulous realm of Walmart. In my glamorous grey sweat pants and cranberry sweatshirt with a paisley scarf for decoration, I was decidedly overdressed for the occasion. I even put on some makeup so as not to appear the ghost of my own self, which only emphasized my fellow-shopper zombies. I succeeded in getting today's exercise and wearing out my poor daughter who's still in her own post-op recovery mode. To her fell the task of hauling my bags inside and running items up and down stairs to their proper home. Since I only got one daughter, I'm glad I got the good one. You can wipe away your tears now or go spit, whichever that last sentiment inspired. She's great, though, and I'm damned lucky.

That's the second time I used "damned" in this blog. Just an observation. My language has been amazingly clean here, so I'll excuse myself for the lapse.

I hear more snow is headed at us tonight and tomorrow. Once again, can I mention how nice it is to be tucked away where it's warm and dry and makes no difference what condition the streets are in??? Yep, I'm rubbing it in. Stay safe on your drives and I'll be pulling for you. After all - you're on your own out there in spite of Red Green's parting shot. (If you've never watched the Red Green Show, you should check it out. PBS on Saturday night, I believe. And don't give me that "date-night" whooey.)

Bubbly babbling Beerma