September 12: Happy Birthday Bob!!!

In all of the excitement of illness, babies, baby showers that turned into baby welcome parties, hurricanes, earaches, and rampant bouts of hypochondria, I'm afraid my Sweetie's birthday was missed. Since we believe in long birth celebrations --- a full month at least, we will make it up.

Bob and I have a mixed marriage. I was the rebellious child of extremely tolerant, liberal, card-carrying members of the ACLU and the Democratic Party. The only way I could think to piss them off was to date Republicans. It kind of threw them when I actually married one. However, it turns out that my parents are tolerant even of Republican son-in-laws. In fact, my parents loved to argue with him. Dad still does, which is interesting since Dad has freed his inner communist.

After 23 years of marriage, we don't talk politics much, since I like home to be a peaceful place, loud boy noises aside. Bob loves to argue, and wants to argue with me, not just my parents. Once a year (or really once every four years, since we only argue during presidential election years) I give him politics for his birthday. I sit and argue and debate and site sources until the cows come home. We don't change our opinions at all, but it's entertaining. Sort of. And Bob likes it.

So sometime this weekend, I'm going to take him to the Charleston Crab House and argue politics in public with him. Maybe I'll convince him to vote for Obama. Or not.

Anyway, Happy Birthday Bob!

September 10: Welcoming the Baby to Be Named Later

I don't know if I've mentioned that my son and daughter-in-law were expecting a baby. If I did, I probably mentioned that they knew it was a girl. They had three ultrasounds because of some small problems during the pregnancy. Each time, they asked the doctor, is it a boy or a girl? He said a girl. Since Gabe was supposed to be a girl too, but was outed on his second ultrasound, Katy said, "Are you sure?" The doctor was sure. They painted the nursery, got pink stuff, picked a beautiful name: Aliya Jade.

So imagine their surprise when Aliya Jade was born on September 10 and turned out to be a boy. Really.

Boys are great, I have three myself. And a grandson. And now another, which is wonderful. Poor Robert & Katy didn't know what to call him, though. Katy kept saying "They aren't going to let me take my baby unless I name him." I suggested Ali, but that was ignored. Finally, they decided on Brendon Alexander. A fine, strong name.

Welcome to the world, Brendon Alexander! Don't worry about the pink pajamas. It's preppy.

September 8: I told you I was sick

I have mentioned that I am a hypochondriac, right? And knowing this, I try to avoid doctors. I'm pretty sure they spot my hypochondria (and excellent health insurance) immediately and start ordering tests while calculating the down payment on a new vacation home.

Now, I should be going to the doctor regularly. I have a very good doctor who isn't trying to send her kids to college on my hypochondria. She is getting enough from my hypothyroidism & high blood pressure. Since I do have seriously low thyroid levels and seriously high blood pressure, you would think that being a good hypochondriac, I'd go to the doctor and take my pills.

No.

So when my prescription finally ran out during tax season, I didn't make a new appointment. After tax season, I still didn't make the appointment. I was feeling sort of guilty and stupid, which were appropriate feelings.

I woke up Monday morning at 1:30 am with a pain in my ear. It got worse, and I went to the Doctor's Care on Monday, thinking I wouldn't get in to my regular doctor's office anyway. I spent three hours in the waiting room. I had thought I was prepared, since I had a Henry James novel to finish. I finished it. I asked if they'd forgotten me. I read several old magazines. When I got into the examining room, my blood pressure was 180/117, which is high, even if you consider the three hour wait. My ear problem was 40 years of impacted ear wax and a sinus infection.

I made an appointment with my regular doctor who was able to see me on Wednesday. She said, in a very nice voice, "Why don't you take your medicine, do you want to die?" I said not really. I am taking my medicine, eating better, and will exercise after I see my doctor again and make sure I'm not going to stroke out on the road. I have appointments with my regular doctor for a physical and with an Ear, Nose, & Throat doctor to remove 40 years of impacted ear wax. God knows how many houses I am buying.

I am feeling better, but not great. I am pathetically proud of myself for taking my medicine everyday for a week. I am doing what I have to do to see my grandchildren's weddings. Or even my children's weddings.

And I told you I was sick. So there. Please hand me a cold compress.

What a beautiful day

The past couple of weeks have been so ... something... I haven't even read blogs much less written my own. So today, on a beautiful day when the sky hangs low like a damp gray blanket, promising rain and not just those stupid pop-up thunderstorms, I will try to catch up.

Tropical Storms, Hurricanes, and White Bread

I live in Columbia, which is at least 150 miles from the coast and rarely gets serious damage from hurricanes. Usually we get rain, which we always need, because we've been in a drought for a hundred years. It's hard to tell through the kudzu, but it's true.

However, I live in Columbia, where we have very long historical memories. Selective historical memories, but long none the less. I recently spoke to someone who believes the burning of Columbia continues to adversely affect his personal economy. I think ... never mind what I think.

And so, to combine the two: 19 years ago, Hurricane Hugo leveled Charleston, then barely slowed as it headed inland, causing severe damage all the way to Charlotte NC. If we haven't forgotten a battle that happened 100 years before we were born, we sure aren't going to forget Hugo.

And so, when a hurricane whispers and blinks and looks like it might come near, we all put away our lawn furniture and head to Lowes & the Bi-Lo.

SCE&G e-mailed emergency preparedness kit lists. (It was really a nice thing, especially considering they have no competition and don't need to advertise. I guess they want to remind us of how dependent we are on electricity.)

One of the items on the list is a non-electric can opener. This is a good suggestion. My parents didn't have one during an ice storm years ago. I had seven, so I shared. The list also points out that cordless phones won't work without electricity, so you might want to pick up one of those old plug in jobs at K-mart. Get some batteries and a battery powered radio while you are there.

Then off we go to Lowes for batteries, propane grills, flashlights, batteries, and plywood.

We move on to Bi-Lo, where we can buy batteries, white bread and milk. Why do people buy milk when they think the power will go out? And why is it always white bread? I went to the store before a threatened snow storm once and there was no white bread. Plenty of wheat, rye, pumpernickel, but no white bread. I don't buy white bread, so it was ok, but I still wonder...

OK, so at the Bi-Lo, I buy bottled water, batteries, canned tuna, vienna sausages (which will sit on the shelf uneaten for many years), and batteries. Ice for the cooler and we're off. Oh yeah, get some beer and diet Coke. And limes.

The thing to remember is that if there is a storm that affects Columbia, the problems (other than a few tornadoes) will come after the storm while SCE&G tries to restore power. The water will be fine, the Hardee's will be open, the roads will be clear.

Of course, Hannah is not coming this way. We will get rain tonight and tomorrow morning. It might be windy. But it won't be a big deal.

But just in case, I'm getting my white bread and batteries. See ya.