Fungible? That’s a new one for me. Is it real? Is it something that has potential to grow fungus?
A tumour grew on my head for my whole life. It looked like a bald spot: I was told was a birthmark. Of course when I was a teenager I lived in fear that the wind would blow and someone would see it! The horror! Someone behind me going, “Hey! You have a bald spot!” was beyond humiliation. The older I got; the less I cared.
Sometimes it would change and get itchy but every doctor would say, “We’ll keep an eye on that.” It even went black once….. “We’ll keep an eye on that.” he said again.
When I moved to this area I got a new doctor who wanted to get a better look at it. He wanted to burn it off.
He did it in his office with local anesthetic. It turned out to be more than he anticipated and found a tumour had been growing with my hair in and through it so only the top was ever visible. It was much bigger than he thought and he removed a big lump. I had a huge burn hole on my head. When the freezing came out it was excruciating and I only had Tylenol.
He called me in for a second burning.
He said, “You wouldn’t believe what I took off your head, I sent it to the University.”
(and damn it, I wish he’d shown it to me!)
He read out the medical terms for what it was but what burned into my memory was ‘fungal’. It was partially fungal.
Now there is no birth mark, no bald spot. That thing grew on my head my whole life and it was fungible.
Okay, I just looked up the meaning of fungible; it as a way different meaning! Since I already wrote this, I think I like my definition better.
fungible; (of goods contracted for without an individual specimen being specified) able to replace or be replaced by another identical item; mutually interchangeable.
I had to whip past all the SoCS posts because I never read them before I write so they won’t influence my stream of consciousness.
There were a lot and you must have written them in the middle of the night. I caught ‘wind’ and ‘fart’ so I knew it was going to be a good one.
Then I went onto the website Linda gave us for inspiration. The first word blew me away; borborygmi. I used to use that word all the time! When my stomach growled I would say, “Borborygmi” in a growly voice to match. I had forgotten it. I wonder if I’m getting stupider in my old age.
Come to think of it, my stomach doesn’t growl much anymore. I eat a lot more than I used to.
People don’t talk about their body functions very much, it’s generally considered rude. I do, so I know from the look on people’s faces that they don’t like it. It’s sort of a mild look of disgust.
And this is the main function I don’t tell people although it’s the elephant in the room of my mind: I go a lot in the morning, like 3 or 4 times over the course of two or three hours. When I went to work I had to set my alarm two hours early to have decent morning.
Going somewhere else is out of the question unless it’s a pressing problem. That is why I preferred starting my job at 10:00 rather than 8:00.
Retirement has been bliss for my bowels. Wake up whenever, have two coffees at my computer until whenever and go when I get the urge. I love it.
But now my fitness training course is going to start Monday at 9:00 a.m. I must be there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and hopefully without a load in my pants.
So far the exercise classes for seniors have been at 8:30 in the morning. Forget it! They are training me and I will teaching a class for my Opening Doors group but I have been very vocal about not doing 8:30 classes.
The answer I keep getting is that lots of people come out for it. Well, good for them. Does that mean if you are not a morning person you are out of luck? I am fighting for those of us who enjoy our slow peaceful mornings. We have the whole day ahead of us! Go out, drive in my car to people talking and goofy music playing? Torture.
But what I CAN’T say is; I’m still pooping!
(Now I’m looking forward to reading what you guys wrote!)
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “bodily function.” Decide on one or write about a whole bunch of bodily functions. Bonus inspiration: here’s a website. Enjoy!
I better write a post today to keep in contact with my blog world. Last Saturday I went to a reunion of old friends and it was great! These are a group of friends who grew up together, went to high school together and were graduating out into the working world when I met them becoming a girlfriend.
We were together for four years and moved out to Vancouver after two years together. My boyfriend was went to Simon Fraser University and I worked for the Vancouver Public Library.
Many of our friends followed us out to B.C. and live there still.
I left my boyfriend, moved back east and married an American. For a while I was in contact with a close girlfriend but our lives went separate ways and I lost contact with everyone for over 20 years.
I lived a very austere lifestyle with my husband for many years. After a terrible break-up I ended up starting my life all over. I could now do things I was never ‘allowed’ to do. Like Facebook: my ex would absolutely HATE Facebook.
One day I got a message from my old boyfriend asking to friend me on Facebook. Yes! Then I saw he was in contact with some old friends who knew old friends…. what a fun week that was connecting with everyone again!
They had been having a reunion up in Muskoka every year; friends who got married bought my boyfriend’s family cottage where we used to party. A few old friends had moved up there, too. I went to three of these reunions before the hosts decided that was enough: they had gotten too big locally and couldn’t stop the momentum of people. That was five years ago.
This year a bunch of us turned 65 so we had a reunion in Toronto. People flew out from B.C. and drove down from Muskoka. I drove to Brampton, stayed at a friend’s along with another friend Friday night and drove back Sunday.
It was so much fun and I’m still recuperating. Not sure why….. didn’t get very intoxicated….. the trip just wiped me out. Maybe all the built up tension, the explosion of energy and the zapping of my introverted being caused me to fizzle out for a few days.
I’ve always felt fortunate I met this tight group of friends in my youth and I’m so happy to still be in contact with them!
Tough Titties. That’s what I like to say. Not to any real people, just the people I argue with in my head. What does it mean? Would that be the worst thing: your titties going tough? The proverbial teat you are suckling from has dried up? Maybe its just the sound of it; not too mean, a little funny. If you don’t like it; tough titties.
Tea. I can remember having tea and a cigarette with my parents after dinner. HA! Seems funny, now. Smoking with my mom, especially!
Now I don’t like tea, strictly coffee. I do make ginger tea often. Grated ginger boiled in water for 5 minutes. It’s delicious, great for colds and stomach problems. and you can use it as stock in your cooking.
The temperature has finally come down and its glorious! Windows open, breezes blowing through…. I even have on a long-sleeved Tee.
Thai Basil. So good. That’s what I’m doing this morning. Yesterday I cut back a big pot of it full flower, washed, dried, picked the leaves and put them in the salad dryer in the fridge. That’s a neat trick I discovered for salad and berries you don’t want to deal with for a day or two. Put them in a salad dryer with a plate on top, in the fridge.
And then I cut back my flowering Italian Basil and put it in a vase overnight. It will keep for a few days like this but I’m going to blend up a batch of pesto with all the basil. I will use it on the no-mayo potato salad I’m making tomorrow.
Next Saturday I won’t be here for SoCS, I’ll be in Toronto meeting up with old friends for a reunion. I’m very exited, even anxious, its been so long since I’ve gone anywhere. There are friends flying in from BC I haven’t seen for years. decades even. I’m really looking forward to it. Tremendously!
Thank you for reading this boring post. If you don’t like it; tough titties.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “T, tea, tee.” Theme your post around “tea” or “tee,” or find a word that starts with “T” and talk about that. Bonus points if you manage to incorporate all three. Enjoy!
Tiiiime is on my side, yes it is. I got all the time in the world.
Being retired is freaking awesome! I wake up, don’t know what time it is and don’t even look! Morning coffee at my computer may take 2 or 3 hours depending on if I’m posting here. Then I do some housework.
I thought I would do a lot more housework when I retired but I was wrong. Oh my lord, you would have to do it all day long everyday to make your place perfect. Some people just set the bar way too high. It’s just another reason be a hermit; no one will see it. I keep my active triangle clean: kitchen/ livingroom/ bathroom but those hidden piles intimidate me. I slink away, shaking my fist; one of these days I’ll get you!
There are projects I planned on doing once retired that I haven’t started yet. Mostly painting. I thought I was going to do it in the spring but I didn’t. I can fart away a whole day with ease and enjoyment. Those are such major projects I put off starting them.
Soon, though, I will have more time taken up with exercise. That’s right, exercise. In August I’m being trained to do exercise classes for seniors. They are advertising they need more volunteers and asked what other communities I would drive to. That’s fine with me but its the time I worry about. I don’t want to fill up my week with another job and spend my days off doing housework. It is volunteer after all.
On the other hand, what a perfect way to get out with people getting exercise and being healthy. I’m already starting a play list for Dance Fit and my new project is planning obstacle courses. Silverback Ninja Warriors. This is also for my Opening Doors group, too.
Today it is finally raining! Soft, steady all-day rain that we need so much. I’m happy to have the time to work on a little sewing project; bean bags.
Looks so easy, what can go wrong? Liners make it easier to sew so I found the perfect size and amount of beans and made seven. Then I put together the outer bag, inside out, and found the liner bags are too big, too stuffed. That’s when I said, Ok that’s enough for today; pick it up tomorrow.
That’s my favourite thing about having this time; saying ‘that’s enough for today: I’ll pick it up tomorrow.
Today I’m either going to cut open the bags, take out 1/4 cup of beans and sew them back or cut new fabric. Decisions, decisions….. I’ll have to play with them for a while.
(Note to all people out there with real stress in their lives….. I’m sorry.)
Just took my last mouthful of cold coffee, time to put out some frozen berries for my smoothie and do some yoga. Yep, I’m doing it. I always told myself this is how I was going to live when I retire so now that I have the time, I sort of have to. Can’t come up with any excuses.
Organ. What the heck kind of prompt is that? No, don’t change it to organize… it’s about organs.
Tee Hee. Organ…. all of a sudden I’m 13. (nudge nudge wink wink)
I love my organs. They are all functioning well and I appreciate them for that.
My favourite organ joke is in “The Meaning of Life” when a recruiter is going door to door looking for organ donors. A door opens with a Rastafarian-bedecked man with smoke pouring out of the house.
“Would you like to donate your organs?”
“Sure, but I’m using them right now.”
The next organ that comes to mind is when I was ‘turning’ vegetarian. My mother had instilled the need of eating liver once a week to stay alive. One day I opened up the slab of liver I had bought and it grossed me out so much I never ate it again.
But the grossest thing is paté de foie gras. To get this they force feed ducks or geese until they are sick and weak with fatty livers. It’s that fatty liver they claim is so delicious. What the hell is wrong with people?
The prompt today ‘open’ gives me an opportunity to talk about Opening Doors which is a mental health program I belong to and volunteer in. In case you don’t know me, I’ll give you a little background:
When I arrived here 10 years ago I was escaping an abusive husband and had to leave everything. After 28 years of being mentally beaten down I was a shell of a person. Certainly not ready to go out for job interviews or even hold a job.
Luckily I had my sister to help me out, some financial help and then help from my government who added on to my meager income once I got a permanent part-time job at 61. Working with people also gave me someone to talk and joke around with. Slowly over the years I got back on my feet.
This winter I was happy to be retired but ended up being alone for days and days on end. I still haven’t made close friends in the 10 years I’ve lived here. Part of it is my introverted and hermetic ways; I like being alone but too much of it is not a good thing.
Social isolation is very depressing. Exercise class didn’t help when you are in a group of women with much different lives: lives with children and grandchildren, holidays and husbands and renovations. So many times I’m in a group and no one talks to me. They don’t notice because they all know someone and all have similar lives. You end up feeling more depressed and lonely.
In February I saw a notice on Facebook from our Community Health Centre where my doctor is. They were starting a new program called Opening Doors which is a mental health program aimed at those who have anxiety, depression or any other mental health problems and experience social isolation. The marginalized and misplaced. The ones that feel they don’t belong anywhere.
The program includes exercise (I have to admit here; one of the main reasons I wanted to join is that exercise class is 1:30 pm to 2:30 and not 8:30 in the morning or at night, like the other exercise classes), exercise games so there’s more interaction and fun, Art and Conversation, cooking classes, guest speakers… things to do.
Last week they took a whole bus load of us to a local tourist town to walk around, have lunch then bussed us all off us to a show at the theatre. All paid for. Our small town group joined up with the larger group from The City so we all got to meet new people. For some people it was so exiting to do something like this; I felt humbled about taking for granted all the great things I’ve done and seen in my life.
This program is fantastic! We don’t need counselling, we don’t need medication, we just need to be with people, other weirdos and misfits like us. Friends with similar lives. Friends who encourage each other to ‘get out there’! It’s Opening Doors we’ve felt closed out of.
When we were at lunch, taking three long tables, I could see the waitresses looking at us a trying to figure out what we were, what is this group about? A waiter did ask and our leader said, “We’re just a group of friends out having a good time!”
The health center is enrolling me in a program to teach fitness to seniors for new programs they are starting in the fall. I intend to start a dance fit class because nothing is better for exercise and feeling better than dancing. I told my group leader what I was planning and she said, “We’re counting on it”
Opening Doors certainly has opened doors for me.
Here are my creations from Art and Conversation so far;
Yes, they are chuckle worthy but we all had good time doing them!
Back when I first got satellite TV I didn’t know there were dirty movies after midnight on one channel. I always look for late movies to tape so I have stuff on hand for to watch when there’s ‘nothing to watch’ on the hundreds of channels.
I saw a movie called “Sasha Grey’s Anatomy” and thought it was a spoof on Grey’s Anatomy. OK, all of you who already are hip to porn are laughing because Sasha Grey is porn mega-star like Stormy Daniels. I was so naïve!
If you ever want to do something funny with your spouse or close partner; tape a porn movie and watch it on very fast forward. I tell you: I had tears I laughed so hard.
Pot is the word that comes to mind first and is pushing out any other three-letter words so I guess the cat’s out of the bag. Oh… two more 3 letter words!
Pretty soon its going to be legal here in Canada. I’ve been waiting 50 years for this. I remember joking about how they should have a Cannabis Control Board selling different varieties of pot like our Liquor Control Board and we’d laugh……
Or how about the pot vending machine? I saw that on TV. Back in the day we would have thought we were dreaming. That would be a skit on SCTV.
I haven’t been smoking pot all these 50 years though. I quit twice for long periods of time just because it’s a bad habit and I am a very habitual person. But I missed it. Never missed meat or alcohol all these years but I missed pot terribly when I didn’t have it. Twelve years; missed it the whole time.
Now I live on my own and answer to no one and soon pot will be legal so I can say this:
I’m going to stay in today and watch TV. It’s already hot and hopefully its going to rain. (I’m sorry to wish rain on a Saturday but we need it.) I need total introversion today; not going anywhere, not doing any yard work, not talking. So, yeah, I have to admit it: I will be imbibing in pot.
In the morning the sun rises through the woods behind my house, mostly Silver Birch and Maples. On the wall just over my shoulder is a framed silhouette of leaves blowing in the breeze.
Birch and Poplar make the most soothing sound with their leaves. It’s heavenly this morning because it’s cool enough to have the windows open. The dappled sunlight coming through the trees along with the soft rustle is so peaceful.
I’m in my office/ sewing room. Also on this eastern wall is my bathroom and kitchen with windows wide open, rustling leaves, dappled light and the occasional warbler.
Here is my kitchen right now;
(That long piece of lace is for a gap between the door and the screen. Yeah, I could probably find a long plastic piece at the hardware store but I’d rather make something with scraps. It fits the décor.)