Himself: Sunday stuff plus construction.
Herself: Sort, clean…Sunday stuff, more sorting photos, and a meeting.
Reading: DE Stevenson
Balance: Getting rid of “stuff.” It feels good.
Christian Mamabear wrote in 2004 and asked how I lived with IBS. I have no memory of answering her. None at all. But can answer her today that I do a lot about my IBS. I rarely eat things that are a trigger, and if I give in whatever it is has to come out of my diet for a long, long time. Today I at half a chocolate bar and felt marginal. Oh, the guilt of it. No more chocolate for months now.
What else. I take a Prilosec….prescription dosage twice a day. That sure does help. I also consume huge amounts of fiber at bedtime with less than huge amounts of water. Sugarless fiber. I still gain weight….but oh well.
My allergies trigger the IBS. Just going into a thrift store triggers an immediate trip to the bathroom. Dust mite poo in action. I may not make my bed every day, but I pull up the covers to keep the dust mites off my pillows. You needed to know that also, didn’t you?
Ah yes, someone asked me if I’m building an ark. There was a neighbor across the valley who had spent years building his. We actually saw it leave toward the sea last month. Perhaps I ought to build mine faster.
“Yes,” I answer someone else, I am a packrat. So is G. We both went through periods of losing everything, several times during our lives, and now we collect stuff. If we lost one slotted spoon in childhood, twenty will do now. Yes, I can say now, today, I am jettisoning dishes, pots, pans, stuff, and more kitchen stuff even as I write. Can’t you see me doing both things at once?
“Will you get a reply?” “Yes,” I can answer, I did get an email back from that restaurant. Two replies. Nope, on second and third thought, why take a coupon for a free meal if I am not ever going back. One friend and reader here commented that her franchise in Chula Vista offered the same putrid service. They don’t eat there either. Uniformly bad service can end the run of a once good restaurant.
Today? So far I’ve put into the donate pile one set of dishes, two sets of storage containers, a mountain of too salty foodstuffs, one nice 1930’s bowl, and I am approaching the kitchen utensil drawer after I finish here. Lessa is taking the dishes, and I’m awfully proud of her to for saying no to everything else.
Imagine, I too am saying no to being a stuff hog but not to notes. One can never have too many notes. Thank you all for caring.