Monday, March 19, 2007

The Hunt

What is there to say except that it continues? Of course, there is more than one hunt just now. For one, I am hunting for a reason that a system update needs 2 hrs to complete itself - and especially one that is really not as simple as they say - yes, there is manual involvement. (Thank goodness I am watching over it vs. believing CIO else I'd have come back in a few hours and still only been halfway done.)


And then there is the house hunt. What a market this is - no sooner do we find one than a contract is placed on it. Or we find one that is nearly perfect only to see some very important defect after the walk through. We continue looking but it does grow old. We begin to wonder how hard it would be to just build the damned thing.


Ah...the hard drive encryption portion of the update - I predict utter tragedy. Let's all take a moment to consider a laptop that becomes a (though handily unhackable) brick. Think good thoughts!


Now, then, where was I? Yes - house. Which then leads to gardening. Why? Because I am a woman and I like fleurs. Yes, yes I do. And the latest pretties I have found delight me to no end. Here - have a look. Veronica, they call it. Georgia Blue Veronica. I call it the prettiest blue I've ever seen. I cannot wait to put it somewhere that might survive the summer. You can see from its tender tendrils that it shall utterly fail if I don't get just the right microclimate. With it I planted some Lily of the Valley tubers but I doubt they'll manage. Perhaps but it was just a fling. A flight of imagination that was likely doomed from the start. Nevertheless, in my mind's eye they were a lovely pair. LOL
The photo also serves to illustrate precisely why we must move and soon. For long and long I've appreciated my empty view at the rear of the house. But now, in the grand tradition of "Texas hi-density housing" I shall now have the opportunity to view someone's - well, let's just hope nudity isn't involved. Of course, my own fleshy prancing on the 2nd floor is also no more. Not that I pranced, per se, but - well, damn it! - no one likes to get dressed immediately after a shower, do they? I mean, weather permitting and all that...sigh...well, at any rate, I feel very much assaulted by the nearness of thee so I shall hie me to a place where there is a bit more than 20 feet betwixt us.
Oh! What's this? The update done, the drive encrypted and...and...it wants to let me log in? No! Hmm. Well, let's just finish this first, shall we?
At any rate, the house hunt continues and all of our must-haves become may-we-please's and the Never! has become For The Right Money. It's unbearably sad!
As to the other hunt - it has been for reason among the unreasoning. I hesitate to send you hither - particular if you have, for some reason, managed to get here even whilst being rabidly Liberal. Or even only slaveringly so. Still, see the linky for Billy Beck? Go there and look for the reference to his latest battle. If you read the comments - if you can manage to stomach it - you shall see why this republic is doomed. Mind you, I figure a goodly 75% of them are under 35 years of age. Still, it frightens me to see people who simply resist or refuse logic and reason! I may not agree with a viewpoint but if you can eloquently, logically and rationally explain why it's correct I may just change my mind.
Such is not what you will see there. It's rather strange, really, to see the mental contortions going on to avoid absolutely the concept of "personal and private property" and to link it to its very basest points. Sigh...well, it's a good fight and Billy wades into it well. I think he sullies himself in the process but sometimes the bleach needs to be tossed into the fetid swamp. I dunno. Madness reigns.
I saw elsewhere the tale of someone who went under the knife all unexpectedly to have her own womanly innards ripped out. It's a horror. One tries to think of the antiseptic nature of it - nice, clean gloved hands gently taking out the bad and gently coaxing the good back into place. But the truth is likely far worse. I imagine in my mind intestines poking out - er - incontinently. I can see them poking it in one place and having it just shove a bit out elsewhere until every hand is brought to bear while the surgeon quickly sews it all back up.
Personally, I can no longer lay on my right side for very long - a wee pain in the left side begins to remind me of the long slice in the belly that just wouldn't heal for the longest. I assume there are guts askew there that dislike the gravity's demand on them. I refuse to believe that more...goings on are going on in there. I've little left for them to take out, after all. But the poochy belly makes me wonder, sometimes. What if...well, what if hell. In April we'll know soon enough if anything else has wended its way to...what was it the notes called it? Multicystic degeneration. Morcellated it says there. What a word! It means, I take it, to be taken in pieces - morsels, you might say. Though it ruins forever the delicious associations one has with the word. God but they carved at things. MY things. I try to remember the very fast processes that took place over 24 hours. Indeed, that lovely sonogram of the innards - can you imagine a job where you performed acts otherwise illegal in many states each day? Amusing, really. But I remember the faces of the ladies told me more than they thought. It was bad. I knew it then...
Well, it's over, now and there isn't that much wrong with me, I suppose. Being tired, yes. Scarred, yes but it's sort of...cool. The "I had my guts cut open and I'm still here!" sort of cool. The lack of children...that hurts now and then. It's a different pain. A sort of guilt in some ways. But it passes, too. But dear me how I look at all those sweet baby things in the store and wonder. What might it have been like? I would have given him a son if I could. That saddens me...but the rest is just administrivia for the body. It copes. It heals. It does the best it can with what it has. And sometimes it turns on you again. I just hope I have scared the damned thing into obeisance. "I'll cut you right open again, mofo, if you wanna play!" Yeah. Take that you non-cancerous bastages. Just even THINK about stirring things up again - I'll take out the OTHER ovary! I ain't skeered!
Now...I have to start preparing myself for what is to come - namely, the return to the home gym. I have been so ill for a month that what little I started fell away and the habit process has to start anew. I blame all of you with children, all of them near each other and passing this disgustingly strong germs about. That alone is solid reason for home schooling. Dear me, how do you stand it?! I have at least had the courtesy to remain home with my germs, thankee. And after clearing nearly a gallon of mucus I dearly hope to avoid all future crud through the direct and frequent application of...well, whatever agent is strong enough to battle it. Wipes, gels, sprays and unguents - I do not care. But I hope to never feel this horrid again.
Alrighty. So that's just about it from here. Same ol, folks. Same ol.

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