Monthly Archives: January 2015

“Roughing It”

Sometime between Thursday afternoon and Saturday morning, we sprung a leak in the basement.  At first, it appeared to be coming from the washing machine, but by yesterday morning, it was clear it was coming from the hot water heater.  A plumber came over and confirmed that the hot water heater tank is cracked and it needs to be replaced.  Unfortunately, we do not know when that will be.

In the meantime, we had to shut the hot water off yesterday and drain what is left in the tank to avoid further flooding.  So I am boiling water on the stove and wishing I had a real fireplace with a big, black kettle over it, to save on gas (and to fulfill a childhood dream of living like Laura Ingalls Wilder).  I piled the dirty dishes on the counter, filled one sink with hot (2 parts boiling water from the stove and 1 part cold tap water) soapy water for washing and rinsed in the other sink, using the dishwasher as a drying rack.  That’s what I did when I was single and living alone: used the dishwasher as a drying rack.  This morning I had to teach B how to take a sponge bath.

B: Yes!  I love baths!
Me: This isn’t a real bath; it’s a sponge bath.  I’m going to give you a bowl of hot water, a washcloth and a bar of soap. Stand on your towel in the bathroom, lather up your washcloth and wash your feet, pits and manly bits.  Then rinse off with more hot water, dry and get dressed.
B: Wait.  Backup.  Wash my what?!
Me: Your feet, pits and manly bits.  You know, your feet, your arm pits and the area covered by your underwear.
B: “Manly bits“?  Where do you come up with this stuff, Ma?   And when I take a real bath, the bubbles in the water do all the washing for me.
Me: Once again, this is not a real bath; it’s a sponge bath.
B (mumbling as he walked up to his bathroom): It shouldn’t have “bath” in it’s name than.

Poor kid.  He’s got it so rough, doesn’t he?  LOL  I’ll address the fact that he is letting the bubbles do all the washing for him the next time he takes a real bath.  ;o)

Does Roe v. Wade stand another look?

Legalized abortion in America has been a heated topic for decades.  After attending Catholic schools for 12 years, I never wanted to discuss the subject again!  We’d debated it enough in school and I felt no debate nor argument would change someone’s stance on the issue.  When I was young and naive, I saw the world as black or white/right or wrong, and I was Pro-Life.  I always wanted to be a mom and was saving myself for my husband, so I was against abortion, even pregnancies that resulted from rape and incest as.  “It’s not the child’s fault,” I would insist.  “They should put their innocent babies up for adoption!”  Then I lost my virginity at 18 when I was raped.  I couldn’t properly take care of myself for 2 years and cannot imagine having to be responsible for another life inside me at that time.  I am thankful I didn’t get pregnant, and learned my first, very hard lesson in judging another without having walked a mile in their shoes.

For the past 20+ years, I have been Pro-Choice.  I wish with all my heart that we lived in a world where abortions were not wanted nor needed.  But they are so I want them legal and regulated.  If women chose to have one, I want them to be able to hold their heads up high and be law-abiding citizens, not looking over their shoulder, forced to slink around and go to someone who could possibly harm them.  I also wish that an equal amount of all the time, energy and money put into protesting outside abortion clinics and lobbying to overturn Roe v. Wade be used to help the non-aborted babies and their mothers after they are born.   Mentoring the parents, bringing them food, helping them with housing, adopting or fostering the children who were abandoned by or taken away from ill-equipped parents.

Earlier this week, I watched a Law & Order rerun from season 20, called “Dignity”.  Executive Assistant District Attorney Cutter was prosecuting a man for the murder of an abortion doctor.  He was doing his job and saying the right things in court, but he had the following conversation with his boss back at the office.

EADA Cutter: In its day, Roe v. Wade conformed to what we knew then about human life and Science. Contraception was limited, most birth defects were untreatable. Thirty-five years later, birth defects can be corrected, disabled children are protected by a Bill of Rights, contraception of every kind is available–
DA Jack McCoy: Yet people who don’t want to still get pregnant.
EADA Cutter: So their rights should reign supreme? My God! Cats and dogs have more rights than the unborn! Roe v. Wade wasn’t written in stone. It could stand another look.
Wow. Cutter brought up valid points, in my opinion, about the advancements in medicine and the availability of contraception.  Points I’d never thought about.  You know what else he said?  He compared the murder suspect to John Brown and abortion to slavery to prove his point that our laws are not set in stone and “…could stand another look…” as times change.  That really made me think.
I don’t know what the answer is.  I don’t know the statistics, but I would think more abortions are performed because the pregnancy is unwanted than for birth defects or pregnancies resulting from rape or incest.  I don’t believe that employers should refuse to provide their female employees with contraception under their medical insurance because of the employer’s personal religious beliefs.  I don’t believe the men (and I say “men” because most of the politicians in this country are men) running our state and federal governments have a right to tell women what to do with their bodies.  However, I also believe that a baby is a separate body, a human, temporarily residing within another human.  Doesn’t that tiny human deserve rights?  And who should makes the decisions for those babies – parents or the state?  I see the pros and cons to both sides but can only come up with more questions, not answers.
However, I do believe that EADA Cutter is right: some laws are not set in stone and could stand another look.  Does that mean arguing the abortion issue before state or federal supreme courts?  Does that mean putting the issue on voting ballots?  I just don’t know what the answer is, or even if there is one, because the world and the people in it are not just “black or white”/good or bad.

Thigh Gap

I’m not ashamed to say, I don’t have thigh gap.  I don’t think that there is anything wrong with thigh gap and, if you are healthy and you have thigh gap, good on ‘ya!  Don’t know what thigh gap is?  According to Wikipedia, “A thigh gap in women is a space between the inner thighs when standing upright with knees touching.”  It would be nice, though, to have thighs with a lower circumference.  The tops of my inner thighs are never separated and my poor lady business is suffocating from lack of oxygen!  So, a couple of years ago, I decided to let her come up for air whenever I was in the shower.  It’s the least I can do, since she’s provided me with so much over the years.  When I am facing the shower head, I prop my left foot up on the ledge of the tub and when I am facing away from the shower head, I prop up my right.

You remember when we were kids and community pools had a deep end of 10-15 feet, and you’d swim all the way to the bottom to touch the grate?  It was such an accomplishment, worthy of serious bragging rights during the Summer, especially to the kids who couldn’t do it yet.  Swimming back up to the surface after you did it for the first time seemed to last forever and you wondered if you’d make it.  With one last pull down of your arms and big kick of your legs, you broke through the surface.  Your mouth flew open and your aching lungs started panting, desperately dragging in air, sounding like an asthmatic.  Yeah, that’s the sound my lady business made the first time I propped my foot up in the shower.  I felt so bad for her!

My favorite pair of jeans are almost done, thanks to my lack of thigh gap.  The tops of my inner things have just about rubbed through the material.  I’ve thought about patching them, but I don’t think it will work.  If I put the patches on the inside, the outside will still deteriorate into shreds and strings, quite obvious to other people.  It’s totally cool if that happens on the knee of your jeans or you cut them across your quads.  However I fear it would get an “Ew!” from people at the top of my inner things.  If I were to put patches on the outside of my jeans, it would plug the holes and give me a couple of more years of wear out of them!  But, again, the patches would be visible to the public and it would just elicit the same “Ew!” reaction.


This is a shot of the crotch of my favorite jeans to show you how the material is wearing away at my inner things. (And no, I am not in the jeans.) As I was typing this caption, B came up behind me and asked, “Is that a picture of a horrible rainstorm over a rushing sea?”

Well, at least we’re lucky.  Instead of just a sudden blowout and unexpected loss of my favorite pair of jeans, we have a terminal diagnosis: time to accomplish a bucket list and say everything we need to say to each other before they walk off to that rag pile in the sky.  And by “sky”, I mean the cardboard box in the bottom of my linen closet.

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