Archive for the ‘Allergies’ Category

Smoke, smoke, smoke that cigarette
Puff, puff, puff until you smoke yourself to death.
Tell St. Peter at the Golden Gate
That you hate to make him wait,
But you just gotta have another cigarette.

Merle Travis for Tex Williams 1947

Boy, you take a couple weeks off from house work in a construction zone and things sure go to hell in a big way. You would not believe the dust and grime all over everything. I’ve been cleaing but as soon as I get it cleaned up it’s dirty again it seems! YUCK!

I’m still in my OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) phase of moving furniture around albeit in a much slower mode than would have taken place at an earlier point in my life. Getting old and decrepit is sure discouraging. Today I decided that the bookcase had to come live in the bedroom with the desk and we’d (me and the mice in my pockets plus Patches, the cat, and the books and one of my spider plants) all be much happier.

I got it moved but I still haven’t got the bedroom floor vacuumed and the popcorn I spilled two days ago is going to become a permanent part of the decor if I don’t get at it ASAP. I still don’t know what to do with the milk carton of computer books. :^? This room just isn’t big enough to accommodate it. I need a bigger bookcase. They are on sale at Shopko but I don’t have the funds. Bummer. Plus where in heck is the printer going to go?

Sitting here at the computer, I am procrastinating getting at the rest of the housework and/or sitting down at my sewing machine and finishing that dress I started a month ago. I washed 3/4 of the dishes this morning before I had my coffee but the pans are still sitting there and I’m just not motivated. I finally got that invisible zipper in right last weekend and now I have to figure out what in heck they are doing with the pockets. This is a strange pattern. More complicated than it looks and I’m not used to reading pattern speak anymore.

A couple of days ago I was prompted to do something physical by the intellectual stimulation of the first chapter of Weston’s book. I needed to digest what I had read so I scrubbed the kitchen floor. My gawd, the filth on that tiny few square feet–I’d guess it’s maybe 5’X6 or 7′. The grit and grime thrown up by the construction on the street is just incredible. My keyboard is literally gritty and I’ve cleaned it several times.

To think I’m breathing this crap. Ugh… My throat is more irritated than usual this time of year what with ragweed in bloom and the molds that are inevitable when we have lots of rain and humidity. Plus there are some kind of trees that I’m allergic to that are pollinating and the grasses. I forget which ones. I had those allergy tests so long ago. Post nasal drip and the gunky crap that I wake up every morning and hack up is gross.

But it’s not as bad as it was when I was smoking. I was allergic to tobacco, too. But that didn’t stop me from smoking, addict that I was. I need to be honest here. I occasionally have a cigarette with friends. I buy them for 50 cents apiece. I like smoking. It’s a pleasurable way to relax for me. But I notice with the Chantix that I don’t get the nicotine kick from it. Which is good. I wish I could find a non-nicotine smoke that I enjoyed besides whacky tobaccy. Maybe I should try cloves.

Thank gawd for Chantix. I don’t think I could have managed to quit as easily as I have without it. I don’t go roaming the halls looking for someone to buy a cigarette from with a gotta have it need. I should just say NO MORE. I worry what I will do when I have to go off of the medication although I have been weaning myself off already and don’t have any cravings to smoke most of the time.

Sometimes I do. When I get frustrated over some piddling little thing like not being able to get that zipper in but then I’ll go and do something else and the urge passes without any great crisis and I’m fine. I can live without cigarettes. The true test will be a big emotional crisis. That’s where I’ve always fallen back on the cigarettes. I need to have a plan in place for that eventuality. Ben and Jerry’s and a hypnosis tape might help. A phone call to my best friend. Writing. Those are all good substitutes.

I’m proud of myself for having come this far. I’ve gone two or three weeks at a time without those social cigarettes so I know I don’t need them. They’re like chocolate to someone on a diet. I cheat. I flirt with addicition knowing that I’m only a pack away from being a full-fledged smoker again. It’s silly really.



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Well, that little episode with Patches itchies was quite a revelation.  She got checked out, got her shots for the year, got her teeth cleaned and was sternly admonished to exercise more and eat less (she blinked twice and lay down as if to say “as if”) and pronounced healthy but pudgie.   They don’t use the F word there.

The Vet laughed at me when I told him about the leash but said going up and down stairs a couple of times a day would be good for her.  So I will have to get another collar.  I should walk over to Walgreens for one of those rugged fabric ones  or find another excuse to go out to Shopko.  Maybe I could make one.  Where the hell is she going to go if she gets loose?  We’ll be in the stairwell.  The leash is primarily for managements benefit.

The Vet agreed that it was probably allergies to one of the things that was new and most likely the collar but to let things be for awhile  and then  we could re-introduce one thing at a time to see if she reacted.  I’m thinking why bother with all that?  Not one damn thing was essential.

But OK out of curiosity I’ll see if she breaks out from the Newmans Own.  Just so I can write to Robert Redford and tell him my cat is allergic to it if she is.  Besides, she liked it but ate less of it than she did the Iams.   Now  I wonder why that is?  I have no idea what the caloric count  is on either brand.  I wonder if she would pick the Newmans out of the Iams?  Oooo Kitty torture.

I still think it’s the plastic.  I took away her plastic food bowl too and she is no longer scratching her chin like she used to.  I wonder if that means I have to forbid her from playing with the plastic bags while I’m unpacking groceries.

She does get rather playful then.  She chases them across the floor.  I fill them with air for her like balloons and she kills them for me.  When they are dead I pick them up and put them in a paper bag to save as pooper scoopers for the grand-doggies.  I need to transfer some to my suitcase for the next trip to Edgerton.

Anyway, I’m going to start giving Fatty Patty Newman’s own cat food tomorrow morning.  Stay tuned.


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