My Mother is doing better

On Christmas Sunday, my father called. “I took your mother to the ER at 3 AM.” She had passed out in her bathroom. When Dad took her blood pressure, it was low (100/50). Mom had been experiencing severe pain between her navel and breastbone.

The doctors decided to X-ray her shoulder. The shoulder really hurt as they manipulated it to get the pictures they needed. Mom vomited. She’s very positive it was only from the pain.

Later, a CAT scan was done of her head. Her father died at age 68 of an aneurysm. Mom is 60. Aneurysm is officially ruled out at this time.

The family doctor is arguing with the gastroenterologist about sending a scope down her throat to have a look around. The “tummy doc” didn’t see a need to do the tests in the hospital. The family doctor thought otherwise, but since Mom didn’t have any signs of bleeding internally, he let it go. He signed the paperwork for her to be discharged.

Mom got home before Christmas was over. She celebrated by taking a nap. After two nights in the hospital, she needed some sleep.

The Old Red Corset

We’re getting old… or something.

Hubby and I sent children to bed. “You have to go to bed. I’m taking a bath and going to bed.” I failed to mention what I’d be doing before falling asleep. Children don’t need to know that sort of thing.

I decided to try on the old red corset. (It’s an old one from Fredericks Of Hollywood. It’s *only* twenty years old.) “Why are you unlacing it?” Hubby asked as he moved something off the bed and started to set up the laptop.

“Because,” I said, pausing for emphasis, “after three kids my hips are too large to pull it up over them still laced.” I had already teased the knot out of one end, so all I needed to do was removed the lacing cord.

“Why not put it on from the top?”

“Because it usually tries to twist and poke me when it’s going over my shoulders.” It may have been years since I’ve worn it, but I haven’t forgotten the fights I had with the stupid thing. Of course back then, there was long hair to get tangled to be the finishing touch.

I grumbled and flopped on the bed. “What’s wrong now?”

“I’m just lying flat to lace it. Dang, I need to dip the lace in nail polish. It’s fraying all over the place.” I struggled to make the lace go through the eye loops.

“You’re not cross lacing it?” My fashion critic notices everything.

“No, this is ladder lacing. They did it a lot in the Middle Ages. Supposed to be easier on the lacing…” I repeated the action: over, up, over, up, over, up… when the lacing cord wasn’t busy fraying.

Finally, the corset was on. Hubby tightened the shoulder straps. I stood correctly. We’re talking posture. “Ouch!”

“What now?” He was getting into his side of the bed.

“Under-wire. It’s twisted.” I made more ouchie noises as I pulled on the garment and forced the under-wire into some semblance of correct shape.

The built-in, non-removable garter straps tickled my legs. “Where did I put the… ok, here.” I pulled out the container of stockings. These were the good ones, not the crappy modern ones from cheap lingerie stores. I rooted through and found an opened package with two unused pairs. I triumphantly whipped out one pair. “Ooo, stretchy. Support, I think.”

“Where’d you get those?”

“From Granny. Since I’m about the same height as her, I got all the stockings. Oh, good. Reinforced toes only.” I slid the stockings on. Unfortunately, with the corset laced up, I couldn’t reach the back garters. “A little help, pretty please?” I turned my back to him and stretched my leg out sideways. I felt a bit like a flamingo. I repeated the pose with the other leg. When he finished, I looked at myself in the headboard mirror.

It was a whole lot of work to get into a corset, just to take it off again. But I think it made him happy. He grinned the whole time. Maybe next time I’ll wear it more than two hours.

I sang karaoke

My first try at karaoke was twelve years ago. The MIL couldn't understand why I couldn't sing "Unchained Melody". Later that week we watched "Ghost".

"Oh... that is a different tempo and key..."

Today I sat with the song directory, attempting to find SOMETHING I knew. I attempted a couple of things before finding one I *knew*. The karaoke system graded your performance. (What it's grading criteria were, I have no clue...) I recieved my best score for "Copacabana."

Someone, who shall for the moment remain nameless, recorded my rendition of "YMCA". Middlest was doing the singing with the microphone, so I just did the motions. I dare you to post it, child.

Before we left, Middlest and I sang "We are the Champions". Middlest needs to learn to use a bit of volume. She sang louder without the microphone in front of her.

We'll both do better next time.

As we walked out the door, our host did his Louis Armstrong imititation to "What a Wonderful World". Just wow.

I wrote my wish list

I was threatened the other day.

"If you don't write me a wish list, Santa Claus won't bring you anything and I won't go shopping for you either."

Is that a hint?


Sanitized* for public viewing, here is my list.


Panties: pick a color, any color. Hanes Her Way bikini preferred.

Socks: BLACK**, any shade of blue, no white unless included in a multipack.

Bras: Red, black, any shade of white to tan.

Bendy Straws: I know none of you have noticed I’m down to my last five straws… and two of them don’t bend at all. They don’t have to be individually wrapped.

Sweater: button up the front style. Pick almost any color (no green). Medium size preferred. Sweater that could be worn with dresser clothes would be nice.


*This means my editorial comments have been mostly removed. You don't really need to know my sizes, do you? Didn't think you did.

**Last couple of times I wore my black jeans, I had to match my socks to my shirt. The black jeans are the only black pants in use at the moment. Where the heck did my black socks go? Maybe that should be the focus of a future blog.