Tag: Studly Doright

Timberrr

Studly Doright is making progress with his recovery from surgery on his sciatic nerve. He still isn’t sleeping well due to intense nerve pain, but he manages to push through somehow. He’s tough.

Saturday he joined his golf group for lunch where they regaled him with tales from their morning round. He misses golf almost as much as he misses his sleep.

Studly returned home at one, just as a thunderstorm rolled in. He and I both took a much needed nap while the storm raged outside. When he awakened Studly surprised me by asking if I wanted to go to a movie. Well, duh. I ALWAYS want to go to see a movie.

I’d already seen Solo, but Studly hadn’t, so we spent the afternoon in that galaxy far, far away. I enjoyed it more the second time than I did the first, and Studly gave it his seal of approval. Afterwards we enjoyed dinner at a Japanese steak house to round out the evening.

Before the film started, though, our neighbor texted me a picture of a tree that had fallen in our neighborhood. When we returned home we drove passed our home to take a look.

It’s hard to tell from this angle, but the tree fell on top of a trailer loaded with sod, narrowly missing the pickup truck that had been pulling the trailer. We aren’t sure if it was felled by lightning or if our oversaturated ground gave way. Such is life in the forest. Hopefully no one was injured.

Studly went to bed early, hoping to get some sleep. Fingers crossed.

Peace, people.

Today’s Activities Thus Far

Shower

Yogurt with bananas and honey for breakfast

Brush teeth

Commiserate over Studly Doright’s lack of sleep

Law and Order mini-marathon

Load dishwasher

Organize Studly’s pharmaceuticals

Remember that I forgot to get dressed, apply immediate remedy in the form of denim capris and white T-shirt

Scowl at reflection in mirror

Apply makeup

Smile at reflection in mirror

Locate favorite flip flops and place them on feet

Compile a list of items to buy at CVS

Locate purse and phone

Remember that I didn’t write a blog post for today

Take a few minutes to write something to assuage my conscience

Frown at the results

Find a picture to distract from the lackluster post

Realize that wasn’t the one you wanted

Stick with that one

Peace, people

Publish

Waiting on the Rain; Tired of the Pain

Early Saturday morning I took Studly Doright to the local emergency room. Nothing critical, but the nerve pain resulting from his recent surgery had gotten out of control, and nothing we tried could make him comfortable. His surgeon had told us that it would take six to eight weeks for the nerve pain to ease off. I sure hope it’s closer to the six week estimate. He’s miserable, and I’ve never felt so helpless.

We were impressed with the efficiency of the Tallahassee Memorial Hospital’s ER staff. Studly was taken to a room immediately and we were headed home within an hour. They were able to get his pain under control and while it’s still a factor, he can manage it now.

As for me, I’m feeling better every day. The diverticulitis seems to be under control. I’m still eating carefully, though. I’ve completely cut caffeine out of my diet, and now that the headaches have stopped I can tell a real difference. I’m sleeping better and all of those “sinus” headaches I’ve suffered from have become very rare. Something tells me those weren’t sinus headaches after all. I’m still avoiding alcohol, as well. I sure miss my wine, but I think I feel better without it.

Gosh, we sound like a couple of old farts. If the shoe fits, I suppose we should wear it.

Finally, a tropical storm is headed our way this afternoon. Our area is expected to get high winds and quite a bit of much needed rain. I’m really not ready for hurricane season, but hurricane season is ready for me.

The Scoop on Solo

Yesterday I wrote of my intentions to see Solo: A Star Wars Story and of my trepidations. Han Solo, as played roguishly by Harrison Ford in the original trilogy and in the more recent, The Force Awakens, has been the inspiration for many of my romantic sci-fi daydreams over these past forty years.

Han Solo has been my imaginary hall pass. In other words, if Han, as played by Harrison Ford, ever shows up at my door in the Millennium Falcon Studly Doright gives his permission for me to spend some quality private time with the scoundrel. No questions asked. Mighty open minded of my Studly, wouldn’t you agree?

The film, Solo, is set in a time before the original trilogy, taking us back to before Han made his fabled Kessel run in twelve or so parsecs. Obviously Harrison Ford couldn’t play the part of scoundrel Han, having grown too old to play the younger version. I was genuinely concerned about the casting choice of Alden Ehrenreich. In the trailers he appeared too short, too boxy, too callow, too “not Harrison Ford.”

But, I am happy to report that not only is Mr. Ehrenreich a perfect Hal Solo (too young for me to lust over, but that’s okay), but Donald Glover is a fittingly rakish Lando Calrission, and Joonas Suotamo is a marvelous Chewbacca. The entire cast, including Woody Harrelson as the thief/smuggler, Becket, and Amelia Clark (also known as Game of Thrones’s Khaleesi) as young Han’s love interest, Kira, is spot on.

The pacing of the film is reminiscent of Star Wars, A New Hope. It’s fast and fun and chock full of wise cracks and charm and surprises. I was transported back to that world I fell in love with as a young adult.

Now, back to Han Solo. There’s one brief moment in which our young scoundrel is shown in profile, almost a silhouette, and he’s the spitting image of Han as portrayed by Harrison Ford. It almost took my breath away. Han lives on.

Go see the film. Let me know what you think. I’m curious to know if anyone else saw that scene as I did.

Peace, people.

Solo, Solo

I’m off this morning to see the newest Star Wars movie, Solo. Studly Doright can’t go with me due to a silly thing called work, so I’ll be seeing Solo solo.

Studly will want to see it once the new has worn off, so I’m sure I’ll see it more than once.

I’m torn, though. Harrison Ford IS Han Solo, so how can this young whippersnapper, Alden Ehrenreich, even dream of stepping into his boots? I’ve got mixed feelings about this.

I’m willing to give him a chance, though, to become the scruffy looking nerfherder I gave my heart to a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. May the Force be with him. And with all of us.

Peace, people.

Farm to Table

Yesterday I felt like getting out of the house. Having been sick since May 2, I’d only made short trips for necessities, including two visits to convenient care medical facilities. I’m still not 100%, but if I ever want to get stronger I have to venture forth.

A Tallahassee neighborhood was having its community garage sale, so I drove to the east side of town and enjoyed the beautiful Florida weather while buying only a couple of items. Most of the merchandise on sale was baby related, and I have no need for strollers or play pens. Thank goodness.

I still had money in my pocket when I left the neighborhood, so I took myself to lunch at Backwoods Crossing, a farm to table restaurant. I’d driven past the place a couple of times before, but never at a meal time.

The interior of the restaurant is pleasant.

I was there early, so I had my pick of tables. The menu had lots of appetizing choices. Unfortunately, I’m limited in what I can eat right now. I settled on a grilled chicken breast with an apple glaze. It was tasty. I’d have loved to have the side of mashed sweet potatoes, but was afraid they’d have too much fiber for my delicate system. Never thought this hot salsa guzzling girl would have to settle for the bland side of things. Hopefully, this, too shall pass. No pun intended.

After my lunch I strolled into their outdoor seating area and garden. Much of the food they serve comes straight from this beautiful garden.

Items they don’t grow or raise directly on property are purchased from local farms. It’s a sweet setup.

I look forward to returning when my digestive issues are straightened out. Fingers crossed that happens soon! As for Studly Doright, he’s recovering from back surgery like a champ. He drove over and had lunch with his golf buddies today. It’ll be another three months before he can take the game up again, but he enjoyed swapping tales with his friends. Life is slowly getting back to normal.

Peace, people.

I Feel Almost Human

I would personally like to thank the makers of Excedrin Migraine for helping me feel somewhat human today. The diverticulitis has been a real b*tch, but the accompanying headaches have compounded my intestinal distress. You, dear readers, should be counting your lucky stars that you are nowhere near Doright Manor. I have been a whiny, icky mess.

Studly Doright, fresh off of back surgery, has had to take care of me even as have I tried to care for him. We’re like a pair of topsy turvy turtles trying to right each other.

https://youtu.be/HETr3Y9s3to

Neither of us is old. Yet. But this experience has begun to make me think about the days to come when we will surely need assistance. Our kids assure us they will find us a quality assisted living home when the time is right. I just want a place that will feed me three square meals a day and bring me Excedrin when I ring a little bell. I can’t get Studly to do that.

Peace, people!

When You’re Still Sick, but You Know Everyone is Tired of Hearing About It.

There is a black cat reposing on my chest. Occasionally she head butts me, a sure sign of affection. Or maybe just an attempt at getting my attention. Either way, her ministrations are comforting.

I was supposed to get a haircut today. It’s desperately needed, but there’s no way I can drive to the town my salon is located in. There are miles between bathrooms.

Our bedsheets need washing. I’m fairly sure I have the energy to strip the sheets from the bed, but will I be able to put them back on after they’ve been washed and dried?

The television is driving me crazy, but my mind won’t let me read a book. Silence is fine for awhile, but I dwell on the wrong stuff: I hate Donald Trump, God help me, but it’s true.

I keep reminding myself that I love my husband. We haven’t gotten to sleep in the same room for awhile due to his sciatica, then his upper respiratory infection, and my “whatever fresh hell this is today.” Have I mentioned he’s supposed to have a surgical procedure later this week? Fudge.

I want my mommy. God, I want my mommy. I dreamt of her last night. She had a fancy new car and a coffee mug with an inspirational verse written in blue script. We sat in the car and talked. I cried.

I Need a Hug

The awful illnesses that have infected Studly Doright and I seem to be slowly drawing to an end. I watched a hamburger chain’s advertisement for a double thick steak burger last night without feeling the need to run to the bathroom to puke up the chicken broth I’d just sipped on for an hour. It’s a harbinger of better days to come, just as the first robin signifies Spring’s beginning. Less poetic, but the same.

Studly seems to be coughing less and he doesn’t fade in and out when walking through a room with white painted walls. He’d make a great spy if all the walls in a given location were bone white. Walk right in, seize the classified documents, walk right out.

One of the worst things about being ill at the same time with one’s partner, only with two different types of viruses or infections is that we can’t hug lest we give each other what we’ve got.

“Here, Studly, my love, have a week of puking up everything you even think about wanting to eat.”

“Sure Nana, my goddess, why don’t you enjoy hacking your head off for a change of pace.”

I really need a hug. Studly might need one, too. We’ve patted each other on our respective heads and arms, and then quickly moved to sanitize our hands lest germs be transferred in this manner.

Maybe that’s why last night (in my dreams, of course) I had an intense make out session with Gerard Butler. I woke up feeling immensely more cheerful.

Peace, people.

The Flu or Something Even More Hideous

Readers, I’m sick. Studly Doright is also sick. We both have different symptoms. His are upper respiratory in nature, mine have kept me tethered to the toilet. Fun, fun, fun.

We’ve had to take turns caring for one another over the past four days. Neither of us are good nurses under the best conditions, and certainly these conditions aren’t good.

I hope we’re both headed towards our own warped versions of normal. In the meantime, this little girl has been my constant companion.

Patches would’ve made a fine nurse.