Scheduling - November 11, 2026

The Husband got sprung from rehab yesterday.  He came home with a walker and is getting around quite well with it.  

He started having a toothache while he was in the hospital and it has been paining him off and on ever since.  I managed to get him a dental appointment yesterday afternoon.  The dentist said it is a giant cavity, and the tooth needs to be pulled, but she didn't want to do it.  Who could blame her, considering all the medicines The Husband is taking?  She gave him a prescription for antibiotics, and we now have to get an appointment with an oral surgeon.  This is going to be hard.   

Outpatient physical therapy starts Monday.

 

Meanwhile, we have appointments with neurologists and cardiologists.  The calendar on my phone is getting a serious workout these days.

MEANWHILE . . . . 

Y'all, my family is plumb crazy.  It takes an act of congress to get us together for breakfast once every couple of months, and now we're (they're) trying to figure out Thanksgiving.  The plan changes every day.  I finally said, "Count us out for Thanksgiving; we'll have dinner with The Husband's family," which plans their Thanksgiving, let's you know the details in October, and never changes the plan once it's made.  Cousin Gus smokes the turkeys, Cousin Anne makes the dressing, and everybody else just brings what suits them.  

We need this kind of stability right now!

Sunday - November 8, 2026

We had a lazy Sunday at the rehab facility.  I guess the therapists were mostly off for the weekend, for The Husband didn't get any PT/OT/ST today.  We knew that going into the weekend, so today I took a Battleship game to give him some practice using his fine motor skills with his affected hand.  Cruel wench that I am, I didn't let him win.  ;)

I took his ukulele to the rehab facility soon after he was admitted.  He tried it once when I was not there, but his strumming hand simply would not cooperate to his satisfaction.  Late this week, he tried it again and had a little bit of success strumming the chord changes.  It seemed to lift his spirits.  

We hope he will be released from the rehab facility on Tuesday and will do outpatient rehab at a place not far from home.  

The Husband has a lot of friends and business associates, some of whom have sent cards, snacks, and floral arrangements.  He received two large dish gardens, one of which must weigh at least 50 pounds.  It is in a large ceramic container that is nearly as big around as a beach ball.  (Good grief!  I don't know what the florist was thinking in sending such a heavy, cumbersome thing to a rehab patient!)  Since we will have so much stuff to carry when he is released on Tuesday, The Husband suggested that I start bringing the plants home.  I could not carry the bigger dish garden - his room is about the farthest one from the front door! - so I put the dish garden in a wheelchair, rolled it out to the car, and managed to heave it into the trunk of my car.  But I can't get it in the house by myself.  It is supposed to get down to freezing here tonight.  If the plants freeze in my car, they just freeze.  

Scared - November 5, 2026

Almost two weeks ago, while I was puttering around in the kitchen as The Husband was getting ready to go to work, he said something to me, and I turned to look at him and noticed that the right side of his mouth was drooping.  When I asked him if something was wrong with his mouth, he confessed that something was wrong.  His right hand wasn't working as normal; he'd cut himself twice while shaving.  I suggested a trip to the emergency room.  He refused.  

I was planning to have breakfast with my siblings that morning at my brother's house.  I said, "Well, you're not going to work.  If you won't let me take you to the hospital, you'll go with me."  He agreed to that idea.  I drove us to my brother's house, had breakfast, and when we got in the car to come home, I drove him to the hospital since he was a prisoner in my car.

The hospital ran some tests, all of which came out normal, but he was admitted to the hospital for observation.  I couple of days later, the tests were run again, and they confirmed he'd had a light stroke.

He is now in a rehab facility, getting physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy.

He is doing well and has regained some of his functions.  His right hand is very weak, but it is beginning to recover movement.  He is walking fairly well but can tell that his leg is a bit weak.  We expect him to be at the rehab facility at least until the middle of next week, and he will probably need additional therapy after that.

This has rocked our world.  We are both exhausted.  

I believe I've found the source of our moth infestation.

Last year, The Husband gifted me with a bird feeder.  Soon, I was buying birdseed in 20-pound bags and storing it in a clear plastic tub on the back porch.  One day, when the sun was shining through the tub, I noticed that it was crawling with moths, even though we kept the lid on the tub all the time.  No biggie; the tub stayed outside, and the birds probably didn't mind moths in their food.

Except for having seen those moths in that sealed tub, I might never have figured out where the moths in the house were coming from.

Yesterday, I opened the doors of the cabinet where the microwave sits.  Several moths flew out.  Inside the cabinet, there was a ziploc bag with a handful of bird seed in it.  The bag had tiny holes in it.  

Can moths chew or drill holes in a plastic bag?

Evidently, they can/did.

I tossed the bag in the outdoor trash can and spent the evening chasing moths in the house.

Here's something kind of odd:

For several years, I've kept moth traps in all of the closets.  When I noticed moths flying around the house a couple of weeks ago, I bought six new traps to replace the ones in the closets.  The old traps hardly had any moths in them and were still very sticky, so when I replaced the old traps in the closets with new ones, I hung one of the old ones in the living room.  I also hung one of the new ones in the living room.  

The old trap in the living room has attracted a dozen or more moths since I moved it from the closet.  The new one is completely empty.  What's the deal?  

  

De-bugging - October 31, 2026

For the past couple of weeks, I have been chasing moths in my house - little white moths.  They are some fast, agile little suckers.  Clapping a flying one between your hands is nearly impossible.  I finally resorted to misting them with water or alcohol to slow them down enough to kill them.

Yesterday afternoon, I grabbed a bag of potato chips from a basket on the microwave, laid it on the porch worktable, and later discovered an ivory-colored worm with a dark head crawling on the bag.  By the time I made this discovery, I was on the back porch and considered that the worm might have gotten on the bag after I brought it to the porch.  Later in the evening, after I'd chased and killed three moths in the living room, I did some googling on how to get rid of moths in the house (yes, I'd already hung moth traps in every room in the house).  The article mentioned moth cocoons and eggs.  I had a look at cocoon images, one of which showed an ivory-colored worm with a dark head emerging from the cocoon.  

Oh, geez....  That worm on the potato chip bag had apparently come from INSIDE the house.

This morning, I decided to empty the baskets on the microwave.  They contained stuff like brown sugar, rice, cocoa, chocolate chips, potato chips - ALL OF WHICH WAS SEALED IN PLASTIC ZIP BAGS.  When I began lifting things out of the bags, a small swarm of moths took flight.  

I hurried to the porch with the baskets and threw away everything they contained.  My holiday baking supplies just took a huge hit.

And it's not just moths....

Last week, I noticed some tiny white specs on the kitchen floor, directly under the cabinet by the sink.  I'd noticed them before and had washed them up (they wouldn't sweep up) and had run the broom under the bottom edge of the cabinet, but they'd come back.  It occurred to me that the white specs might be spider shit.  I went ferocious with the broom, scrubbing it under the counter to kill any spider that might be lurking there, washed up the specs, and the next day they were back.

I got out a hand-held mirror and a flashlight and looked under the cabinet.  There was a 2" wide recess under the lip of the cabinet.  It was full of spider egg sacs.  

I nearly lost my mind. 

I got out the vacuum cleaner, but the hose would not fit into the crevice.  I got out the Swiffer, but it wouldn't do the job, either.  I got out a brush, and it took out some of the egg sacs.  A spider was among them.  I offed it and went back to work with the brush, but I could not remove all of the egg sacs.  

The Husband has been in the hospital and in rehab for the past week, and I have been staying with him and have been unable to get down to business with this spider eradication program.  I hate to spray pesticides, and I don't even know what will dissolve a spider egg sac or how I'm going to get it into that crevice, but when this rehab stay is over and I have the time and the presence of mind to do something about this, there'll be a thorough spider-killing around here.

Tacky Women - October 20, 2026

Yesterday, I did very few of the things I'd intended to do.  Didn't go vote.  Didn't drop off the check.  Didn't do anything in the craft room except make some scrap clay jewelry components, and they were nothing to write home about.  I did make the to-go breakfast pinwheels and a bodaciously good pot of soup and some fried jalapeno cornbread.  

I was already a little irked (with myself) when The Husband came home and showed me a video that someone had sent to him, a public video, made by someone we know.  It was . . . well, tacky.  Embarrassingly tacky.  Embarrassing for the person who made it more than for her victim.

A playwright once wrote, “Heav’n has no rage like love to hatred turn’d, nor hell a fury like a woman scorn’d.”

I just shook my head and said to The Husband, "Don't play that again."

Sometimes, you just gotta chalk things up to a lack of good sense and move on. 

Today, I intend to scratch at least two things off my to-do list.  

Wish me luck.

New Week - October 19, 2026

It's chilly on the back porch this morning.  I'm dressed for the day but wearing my thick winter housecoat over my clothes until the chill goes away.  This morning - "sometime between 8 and 12" - the A/C company is supposed to check and service our A/C units.  I'll snatch this housecoat off when the serviceman arrives.

I hope the serviceman comes pretty soon because I have some errands to run today.  Early voting started last week, and I mean to go cast my vote today.  While I'm out, I'll drop off a check to a local charity, the money coming from the balance left over in the class reunion checking account.  After that, a trip to the grocery store.  When I get home, I'll start a pot of soup for supper tonight using the left overs from last week's roast.  I also need to make some breakfast-to-go snacks for The Grandson.  He started a new job last week and has to be at work at 5 a.m., and there's probably nothing open at that hour for him to get any breakfast.

And I need to tackle the craft room.  Get back in the groove.

Maybe tomorrow.  ;)