The Good, The Bad, & The Shiny

2017.  There are still several holidays left to you, but I can’t wait to sing you off life’s stage.

Well, if I’m being honest, I can’t wait to pelt you with rotten tomatoes & send the stage hook out to “encourage” you off.  Should the stagehand accidentally throttle you in the process, I wouldn’t complain.

December 31^st, for me, held so much promise –

“I’m going to work out at least once a week.”

“I’m going to eat more fruits & vegetables.”

“I’m going to write & blog at least once a month.”

2017.  You reminded me of a famous quotation, which I’m probably paraphrasing: When you start making “plans,” fate starts laughing.

The best in life – friendship, community, accomplishment, sense of purpose, hope, love, commitment, trust – is often intangible.  So, unfortunately, is the worst – fear, anxiety, anger, sadness, loss, grief.

Even though I might not be able to put these feelings into words, I’m going to try so I can share the path on which 2017 put me.  It’s rare that I’m speechless, so it’s important for me to try & express why & when it happens.

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The Good

2017.  I managed to reconnect with family & friends over the course of your bumpy road.

Some relationships came back so naturally, it made me wonder why we’d stopped speaking for such a long time.

Others aren’t as smooth, but I recognize my behavior’s part in that chill.

I hope to be a better friend next year.  Not just to those I’ve adopted into my life, but to those with whom I share a (slightly muddied) gene pool.

2017.  I’ve found depths of strength & drive I didn’t know I still had in me. If you told me last year how much I’d be running, carrying, driving, & all with an upbeat attitude, I’d treat you like you’d grown a second head.

Smile nervously & slowly back away until I felt safe enough to roadrunner it outta the room.

Meep meep.

I hope to continue moving forward in this way next year.

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The Bad

2017.  You tested my resolve, my strength, & my attention to detail.

People with faith say, “G-d never gives us more than we can handle.”

I say, “G-d thinks too highly of my coping skills.”

2017.  On February 6^th, surgeons replaced my Dad’s calcified aortic valve to keep his heart ticking.  He’s now part cow.

The fact that my Dad lived through open-heart surgery deserves to be on the “Good” list.  Unfortunately, the agony he went through & the fact that no one helped me care for him as he recovered made it a real ordeal.

That, & my father has such little patience, is fiercely independent, & hates having other people drive him places.  He makes a fantastic patient, let me tell you.

Still, we made it through.

I hope that there’s no reason for me to be Dad’s caretaker next year.  I know he feels the same way.

2017.  April 8^th, my Grandmother joined her husband & daughter in heaven, if you believe in heaven.

She lived a good life, spanning from 1922 to earlier this year.  Imagining all the events she’d seen & experienced during her 94 years (her 95^th birthday would have been in August) on Earth sends my curiosity reeling.

It also disappoints me to know I missed out on hearing many amazing stories.  My Grandparents were very involved in my early life, but, after my Mom, their daughter, died, we grew apart.  Only in the past few years did I start spending time with her again.

It wasn’t enough.

I hope to reconnect with family members next year.  I abandoned them in my grief, & I only hope they can forgive me so I don’t have such regrets again later.

2017.  October 8^th, exactly six months after Grammy’s death, vets diagnosed my cat, Loki, with nasal lymphoma. His oncologist gave him around 2 years, with extensive treatment.

The fact that Loki – whom I often say is cooler than Batman, & way cooler than Ben Affleck’s Batman – was in excellent health, youngish, & we had pet insurance, also helped in our decision to treat his cancer.

Only after his radiation treatment did we find out that the cancer was more aggressive than his oncologist thought.  His prognosis shrank from 18-24 months to 9 months.

Ironically, 9 months is exactly how long he’ll need chemotherapy treatments.

Weekly.

45 miles away.

One way.

With an 11-pound, whining, miserable cat, who may or may not have bitten the staff at the vet hospital when they diagnosed his cancer – earning him the nickname, “Devil Cat.”

After his first radiation treatment.  He was not pleased with anything that day, especially not his “Handmaid’s Tale” cone.

He also earned the nickname, “Wimp,” after he had a bad reaction to the chemo.

We spent a lovely Thanksgiving in a (slightly closer) vet hospital.  It took 2 days to get his white blood cell count out of the toilet & clear up the upper respiratory infection that caused his nose to run like a Usain Bolt chasing a cheetah.

Healthy Paws pet insurance really deserves to be under the “Good” heading.  They’ve been stepping up, paying 90% of Loki’s medical expenses (minus exam fees, preventative care, problems arising from lack of preventative care, or elective procedures, of course), with no lifetime limits.

It’s better than my own health insurance in a lot of ways, including premium costs ($31.90 a month, for anyone interested in getting pet insurance).

I hope next year we find quiet peace & comfort next year.  Of course, I hope my Loki-mon, monkey, shadow-cat is still with me this time next year, but I’m keeping my hopes here realistic.

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The Shiny

2017.  For the first time in years, I picked up my pliers & made some jewelry for my friends.

Back in the day, once upon a time, in another life, I had disposable income.  I spent it on bits & bobs of jewelry-making supplies: earring hooks, connectors, charms, jump rings, semi-precious stone components.  My closet over-floweth with jewelry making supplies.

Perhaps they remind me of a time when I had spare dollars & cents with which to buy these pieces off eBay, Amazon, or etsy, & that’s why I don’t want to use them.

Perhaps I don’t have the inspiration I need to make stuff on a regular basis.

Whatever the reason, I hadn’t done any work in a long time.

My friends acted as my muse &, unwittingly, introduced me to a new style of chainmaille (my favorite type of jewelry art) – scalemaille.

It seems perfect for my guy friend who’s into Renaissance Fairs &, like me, has ADHD.

Fiddling with this bracelet is fun.

I almost didn’t want to give it to him.  My Dad also tried to take it, before he said I should sell it.  But I told him, that’s not why I do this stuff.

For my gal pal, I combined my love of chainmaille with my interest in target shooting.  I’ve collected many spent casings from the firing range floor & I’ve been dying to work them into some jewelry.

I call it: “Byzantine with a Bullet.” It would be wittier if the weave’s name wasn’t “Byzantine.”

I hope to have more bursts of inspiration next year, & to put them to good use.

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There you go!  For all of you wondering where I’ve been the past year, why I haven’t posted, or what my offline life consisted, there’s as brief a recount as I can make.

I hope for many more years sharing my inane ramblings with you all, & that the best of 2017 is the worst of 2018.  For all of us.

Happy holidays to all & to all a good night!