Thoughts and prayers

Received a sweet condolence card today from a neighbor who wrote a wonderfully (if unintentionally) insightful note.

To wit: "I am so sorry for your loss; you are thoughts and prayers."

Thinking about it, I am thoughts and prayers--that sums up my modus operandi these days quite nicely.

Did quite a bit of thinking and praying this weekend, as I did end up going to Ptown after all. Either I was feeling better or was I not sick enough to let almost $400 go down the drain--can't rightly tell you. (Feel almost completely humanoid today, in case you were wondering.) The drive there was smooth and easy, while the drive back was a slow, numbing bore--until I got off the Cape itself.

While I do enjoy the ocean and a terrifically GLBT-friendly environment as much as the next queer, I found all the rest and serenity I accumulated over the weekend sorely tested by the tedium of covering the 4.8 miles before the Borne Bridge in about an hour-and-a-half.

It irritates me that the memory of the terrible traffic is almost more pronounced than that of the dear friends, old and new, I met over the weekend.

So no, I won't be heading back to Ptown any time soon, but I do hope I get to see the old friends again--they're in NYC these days, a much easier place to get to and from--and soon.

Last night, I went to an enormous fund-raiser for a tremendous non-profit that drew every liberal for miles, or so it seemed. The organization is led by one of Chloe's moms, so I was there to support her and her family; they've been oh so very good to us, after all. It was all very interesting and motivational, until after the speeches were done and I noticed that one of the many people milling about included one of Linda's oncologists. That threw me for a loop, as seeing her sparked a sort of hyperspeed slide show in my head, followed by a sinking feeling in my stomach. (Am grateful I didn't have any appetizers, I'll tell you that!). That was followed by another one of my sudden, but short (thank God) public cries. Thankfully, the people who were seated next to me knew my story, and they were very sweet.

Ah, the sweetness makes it so much easier. Well, easier isn't really the word. Less difficult?

Today I went back to the marble halls, and had a pretty good day, considering I found myself talking about Linda's last days with someone I've worked with a time or two. It felt very good to talk about it, and better still to have another person validate my feelings on how Linda left this life. It was terrible, true, but it was beautiful. It was an honor and a privilege to have supported and been witness to her journey, and I hope my brain will allow me to keep the memories and feelings alive for as long as I live.

Well, that's enough for a Monday, I dare say. Love from me and the--three guesses--snoring sweetness, aka Shwea

Pride goeth before the fall....

Just the other day, I was thinking about how remarkably healthy I've been, considering all of the cold sufferers in my midst in the marble halls at Big Company. We've had a regular "1812 Overture" of sneezes and coughs in my department this week, thanks in part to it being busy season and in part to people not having the sense God gave geese. (We can work from home now, people. It's company policy, for pity's sake.)

The second I thought that, I also thought, "Crap, now you've done it. You're going to get sick." Then I tried to think positively, starting a mantra along the lines of, "I am healthy and free of all sickness."

So much for that.

Yesterday afternoon, I was in the marble halls and found myself having what felt like a major allergy attack. Alas, it was the sudden onset of a head cold, and I stayed home today, spending many hours decimating my household Kleenex population.

One of the many implications of this cold is that I may be out of a chunk of change, as I had reserved a room in a nice B&B in Provincetown this weekend. If you're familiar with the cancellation policies of B&Bs in Provincetown, you know that they require much more lead time (21 days, in my case) for cancellations than a cold allows.

Sigh.

I asked the proprietors of the B&B to see if they could find a new tenant for the weekend. Here's hoping! (If you are suddenly compelled to go to Ptown, allow me to recommend the room called "Three Sisters" at the White Porch Inn. It's a beaut!)

Of course, I could feel all better by tomorrow. It could happen. Maybe?

This appears to be a week for such things. On Tuesday, I had a plumber over to fix the outside faucet that wouldn't shut off, and he found that the main shutoff valve for the entire house didn't work. In a word: Yikes! So, the City and the plumber are coming back tomorrow to fix that.

Ain't we got fun?

Also on Tuesday, my monitor went black. It had been flickering here and there, but it went really, truly black. So, I called the local techies I like (Tech Cavalry), and one of their guys came by. The monitor was beyond fixing, alas, and I had to buy a new one.

You can't say I'm not doing my part for the local economy.

Well, I think it's now getting close to time to go back to bed, in the hopes I can coax this cold right outta my carcass in time for the weekend.

Doubtful, but a gal can dream, can't she? Hope you're all well (but don't gloat about it!) and happy. Love, Ann and the Bombshell (who asked me to add that she is very happy her person stayed home today instead of going to work).

Another multi-day post of preposterous proportion

My, I have been busy. (Warning: Am going to try to remember what's been going on from memory, so odds are good something will be lost/mangled in the shuffle.)

Wednesday night I went to a farewell dinner for a colleague who was "reorganized" out of a job. Was very touched to see how many people came from the office to bid her adieu.


Have been "reorganized" in the past, so have much compash for my former cohort. She's doing her own revival of the Unsinkable Molly Brown, bless her heart, and I am sure that attitude will serve her well in the months to come. (If she's even footloose and fancy free that long.)


Thursday night was the caregiver support group, which I am still attending. Began to wonder early in the meeting this Thursday whether I should still be part of it, but by meeting's end I was able to offer some helpful info to a couple of the newbies in the group, so maybe I am being of service. It helps me to listen to everyone, to bear witness and to think, "Linda had that happen, too," or "I ran into the same thing with Dr. X," so I guess I'll keep going until they need my spot for someone else.


Friday during the day I had lunch with then sat with a friend at Baystate while her sweetie had a mastectomy. It was good to have a chance to babble (neatly keeping her preoccupied--slick, eh?) and to be able to do unto others as others have so kindly done unto me and my gal. Happily, the news from the surgeon was good, and I took notes for my friend as she made her post-op pronouncements (for if my experience is any indication, one cannot retain a thing said by someone who has operated on one's sweetie, particularly when she is still wearing her scrubs).

That night I did very little (if memory serves), and enjoyed sleeping in Saturday morning a lot. Shwea let me, too, which was mighty nice of her. After breakfast and Her Highness's walk were out of the way, I went after the no-longer-glorious morning glories in the front yard. Thanks to the bitter cold, their magnificent blooms and leaves had all wilted--over the shrubs in front of the house, over the "tepee" Linda bought expressly for their growing pleasure, and over the fence on the side of the yard (where the heart formed). It took some clipping and pulling, but I unearthed all of the dearly departed glories, put the fence back in an upright position, and now things look much nicer.

As I did this job, I found myself wondering if I was doing it "right" (i.e., how Linda would do it 8-). Linda has not been forthcoming, which I take as a good sign. If I was mucking things up terribly, she'd let me know somehow, of this I am certain.

Saturday afternoon I went to a coffee for Mayor Higgins, who is running for another two-year term (she's served 10 years altogether). Her opponent is running a rather thin campaign, but it's been fairly successful, for the mayor has been in office long enough to have P.O.'d a number of very vocal (and occasionally rude) people. She neatly debunked or thoroughly addressed all of the official criticisms of her work to date. Some of the unofficial arguments against the mayor are rather hilarious--one being that it's time to get rid of the queers in the mayor's office. Problem with that is her opponent is a gay man, which is something he's been very, very quiet about. Some of his supporters appear to be of the "Keep Your Government Hands Off My Medicare!" persuasion, so he's just being sensible, I suppose.

Saturday night I went with some friends to dinner and a GLBT international film festival at the high school (ah, if only my high school had such events...sigh). It was fun, if overlong (I was up well past 10:30--yikes!). Sunday I did manage somehow to get to church (late, of course), and enjoyed the service and my church family enormously. We added some new members today, which is always cheering, and very, very sweet.

This afternoon I took a ride out to the cottage to retrieve water cooler-size bottle of water I left out there for some strange reason. Good thing, for it was 30 degrees inside the cottage and it had begun to snow. Yes, snow. I swept all the leaves and slush off the deck, but otherwise just picked up the water and got out of there before the weather got even sillier. It's only about an hour away, but boy, the weather is different--and not in a good way this time of year. I also made a trip to the local outlet mall, as I can't help myself. Picked up some more work clothes, since I need to appear in the marble halls more often these days.

Now I must pack it up and move it out--it's getting late (for me), and tomorrow is Monday, alas. Before I close, I should note that tonight my friends Val and Joan made a very interesting proposition regarding vacationing together in early 2010, and it might fall under the heading of "What are you waiting for?!" Some details need to be worked out, but I will let you know if I take them up on their kind, kind offer. We shall see, sweeties! Love, Ann and the Snoring Wonderdog

It's that--bam!--time of the year

How did it get to be Tuesday? Time and I are not on speaking terms, apparently. It appears I may be taking on a volunteer gig at church that entails being able to read the calendar and various scheduling duties. This may be a stretch for me, as I couldn't figure out which month was the next to have five Sundays.

Maybe it's a math thing, which I never understood. But perhaps I drag that ol' shortcoming out when it doesn't really apply. (A 50-year-old who can't read the calendar is likely challenged by more than math.)

Does grief reduce one's I.Q.? If so, I could be in serious trouble, folks, for as many of you know, I also have, to my discredit, a less-than-brilliant drinking career, which didn't do much for my memory banks.

Is it time to start labeling my furniture and appliances?

Okay, perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself here, but I do worry.

Let's talk about happier things, shall we? Yesterday was one of those freakishly "on" days I have about once every six years or so. (Or so it feels lately.) I was able to get to work early for a women's leadership event (i.e., we had a speaker and free breakfast--sign me up!), then proceeded to take care of several pieces of business in short order. Last night, to top it all off, I went to the local staging of the second phase of The Laramie Project (don't recall it's "official" name, sorry). It was wonderful, it was long, it was sad, it was important. And I knew some of the performers, which always makes things more fun and interesting.

Today, though, I had a productivity-related hangover of some sort. I could barely crawl out of bed and take care of the Bombshell in time to take my car in for its 1,000 mile checkup (well, 1,400 miles, thanks to this weekend's trip) at 8 a.m.

After that, I found it very hard to get anything really, completely done. Started, on its way, but done? Nope. Even tried doing a load of laundry, to try to get something accomplished, but then I killed the washer (or it committed suicide; it's really hard to say). It just died, while I was on the phone with my manager (of course), and it is only a little over three months old. Let's hear it for Consumer Reports!

A little while after that happened, a bird flew right into one of the panes of the large bay window in the living room. Ah, it's that time of year again, when all the birds congregate on our dogwood trees to eat the red berries that proliferate now. I don't know if some of the birds have too many berries to fly safely, or they get too excited by the bounty, or what's impairing my feathered friends, but every dogwood berry season (if there is such a thing), a bird or two flies into our living room window. No one has been seriously hurt, I'm happy to report, but it is quite jarring to hear the sound of bird meeting glass. Bam!

Well, one of today's good pieces of news is tomorrow I get to stay home to work again. The repair people at Sears (thankfully, my washer is under warranty) committed to be here sometime between 8 and 5--isn't that helpful? Almost COMCASTIC, say I.

Speaking of the cable company who belongs in the Red Tape Hall of Shame, today I finished changing all of the remaining bills that had Linda's name on them to mine, and not ONE of these providers required me to come in to an office, a la COMCAST. They didn't even ask for a copy of Linda's death certificate. They just DID it.

I braced myself for trouble when I called Verizon, for I had to cancel Linda's cell phone (completely forgot about that). Knowing how loathe cell phone companies are to lose customers, I thought I might have a struggle on my hands, but there was none. They asked if anyone might want her account and number, but that was about it. Sweet.

So, COMCAST is still leading the Puddin'head Parade as far as yours truly is concerned. They did make me appreciate my other service providers, I will give them that--as a result of their preposterous policies, I was moved to thank each rep I spoke to today who made the name change with ease for making my life that much easier.

One last thing before I'll stop and spare you for today. Late this afternoon, I had to stop in at our attorney's office to sign something and drop off a check. On the way there, I saw a cute couple of young gals walking down Market Street holding hands, and it gave me a pang. Even though Linda and I were never quite cute, nor were we young very long, we did hold hands. Sigh.

This has been a heck of a day, in other words, and after writing this all out, I'm just tuckered. Shwea, of course, is well on her way to Dreamland, and I will be there soon. Good night, friends. Love from me and the Bombshell

Road trip tested!

Took my new wheels for their maiden "voyage" today, down to Cold Spring, NY to visit Father John and his missus. Until old age and infirmity made travel impossible, Fr. John was the leader of the spiritual retreats Linda and I used to go to in Connecticut (we met at one, too, as many of you know). The Padre is still a nut, which is something I like in my spiritual guides (naturally).

Also got to spend some time with a merry band of New Yorkers who also descended upon his home today, all people I have been on retreat with at one time or another. Such vibrant, loving, witty people--and very sweet about my gal (she would have loved today's excursion, and I thought of her often--esp. when someone said something slightly scandalous). Did me a world of good to see them all, and I am looking forward to getting back in the retreat swing of things as soon as I can.

Well, we had a small banquet of church food, for lack of a better way to put it--casseroles, potato salad, baked beans, the gamut. After that, we needed a walk, so we went to a local tourist destination called Boscobel, which featured a mansion, gardens and a breathtaking view of the Hudson River, including West Point. It was so gorgeous, I just sat and soaked it all in while my friends wandered through the gardens (I've seen a lot of gardens; stunning views of the Hudson? Not so much). It was the sort of spot that cries out for either painting or photography, and the latter was happening a lot--two large wedding parties had their photos taken while we were there.

What a sweet day! I not only had a grand time with my peeps in Cold Spring and taking in the sights, my new car was a joy to drive on this long-ish trip, esp. once I figured out how to turn up the volume of the nice lady who gives directions (she was so quiet, I could only hear her with the music off--that's just no way to drive!). The trip was almost three hours each way, and it went very, very smoothly. Might have to schedule a drive down to D.C. next--we shall see....

In case you're wondering, Shwea was taken care of quite beautifully by her primary during-the-week sitter while I was off joy riding. She acted as though I had been gone days, not hours, when I first arrived, but is now back in default snore mode. Methinks I should get to my own default mode soon, as I have church tomorrow and a bit of work to tend to, now that my roadtrip is behind me--but what a hoot it was!

Ain't gonna study war no more, indeed

What a day this has been! The name-change issue is still up in the air with our friends at the [name unmentioned for fear they'll post again--that was a little spooky] cable company, but I managed to have a good day of work anyway.

Just got back from joining Karen and Sky at a--get this--Holly Near concert in town. Am so glad I said "Yes" to this notion. At 60, Holly's voice is even better than I remember it (though don't ask me when I last heard her), and she is a wonderfully accessible performer. To top it all off, she has a good sense of humor, so we were all charmed, I'm sure. (Of course we were; the room was 99.4% dykesaurus.)

And I only cried once, which was far better than I thought I'd do (I cried at a "Retire Well" seminar at work this week when the word "spouse" was trotted out one time too many for my comfort, for pity's sake). With this recent history, I worried that a Holly Near concert would be a veritable minefield of Kleenex opportunity. The killer was when she asked how many women in the audience were married, and I found myself on the horns of a dilemma. Linda and I were married, true, but we're not technically married any more, if I recall the "till death us do part" business correctly. That said, I still feel married, which is why I'll be wearing my civil union/wedding ring for a good while.

Seeing my discombobulation at this query, Karen and Sky were kind enough to pat me and hand me a tissue. Such sweet peas, those two!

Now I'm back home, listening to Shwea snore (how unusual, eh?), and it sounds just wonderful. Might be joining her soon, and should, as I may be heading off on a wee adventure tomorrow. Have a little catch in my throat, though, so I'm going to wait and see how I feel in the morning. Am hoping it's just due to allergies, my mini-weep and/or my singing along with Holly (it can't be helped).

We shall see...

Comcastic? You be the judge!

The following exchange transpired via chat, which I turned to when my call to COMCAST was cut off after being on hold a minute or two:

Ann(Fri Oct 9 10:28:35 EDT 2009)>My spouse, Linda Small, is the name on our account number X. She passed away on 9/4/09, and I want to change the name on the account to mine. Thanks for your help, A
analyst Michel has entered room
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:08 EDT 2009)>Hello Ann_, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Michel. Please give me one moment to review your information.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:09 EDT 2009)>hw.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:29:10 EDT 2009)>How are you today?
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:29:24 EDT 2009)>Okay, thanks.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:04 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I see here that you want to change the name on the account X.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:06 EDT 2009)>I can definitely understand your issue. But do not worry, I would do my best to help you with that.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:30:08 EDT 2009)>I am now pulling up your account. This may take a couple of minutes.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:30:22 EDT 2009)>Okay
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:32:56 EDT 2009)>Okay, Linda. I am now documenting your request here in your account.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:32:57 EDT 2009)>Can you please give me a couple of minutes while I process this for you.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:33:07 EDT 2009)>Ann*
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:33:35 EDT 2009)>Sure--and yes, my name is Ann. 8-)
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:33:48 EDT 2009)>Yes, I am very sorry about that, Ann.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:34:07 EDT 2009)>It happens a lot, not to worry.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:35:54 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I am done posting your request here in your account. However, to finalize this process you would need to go to our Local Office, so that we could further verify security and validate your request. This is to ensure that no unauthorized changes will be made in the account. Just bring any valid ID or any documents that will support your request. As for your order/request/concern, everything is on the right track and you can consider it resolved.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:36:59 EDT 2009)>I need to go to an office? This is the first time a vendor has required this step!
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:39:42 EDT 2009)>Yes, Ann. Because we could not verify information here online. The security of your account is our primary concern that is why you would need to go there to finalize the change of name. But no need to wory everything is on the right track and you can consider it resolved.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:40:32 EDT 2009)>So, Linda's name will be on the bill until I go to an office. Would I need to go to an office to cancel the account, too?
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:41:33 EDT 2009)>For cancellation no need to go to the local office, Ann. You can just call our Cancellation Department at 1-800-266-2278
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:43:35 EDT 2009)>Well, it might be easier to cancel the account than change the name on it--that's not a good business model, to put it mildly. I suggest your management consider letting people in my position send in a copy of the death certificate and spare us trips to offices for things that can be handled much more easily. I am seeing CPAs, financial planners and attorneys in the wake of my partner's death--now I need to go see Comcast? It's silly!
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:45:55 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. I will provide you with a work around for you request.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:46:08 EDT 2009)>I am still finding another way to fix this for you./
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:46:10 EDT 2009)>Can you please give me a couple of minutes while I process this for you.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:46:30 EDT 2009)>Sure--I have a phone meeting at 11, however.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:03 EDT 2009)>Okay, Ann. This is the contact details for our Local office nearest in your area.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:05 EDT 2009)>Center Name: Northampton Address: 71 Bradford StNorthampton MA 01060 Phone Number: 800-266-2278 Hours: Mon-Wed 9:00am-5:00pm,Thur 10:00am-5:00pm,Fri 9:00am-5:00pm 24hr drop box available
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:49:35 EDT 2009)>You can try to contact them to see if you can fax the documents at the local office.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:51:03 EDT 2009)>But this is not an assurance that the local office could process your request, Ann. Since local office policy varies per market.
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:53:03 EDT 2009)>Okay, need to go. One last thing: It took me two minutes on the phone to change the name on my Bay State Gas account. Really, really unnecessary, and I hope you pass this along. I understand you are limited by your management, however, and wish you well. Ann
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:53:25 EDT 2009)>I sincerely apologize about this, Ann. I will note your feedback here in your account.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:54:10 EDT 2009)>Have I solved your issue today, Ann by posting your request here in your account and by providing your with another possible way to finalize your request?
Ann_(Fri Oct 9 10:55:24 EDT 2009)>Not really, but I realize it's the system, not you. Please pass this along so that the next widow who is just trying to avoid the heartache of seeing her spouse's name on a bill doesn't have to jump through hoops to make it stop.
Michel(Fri Oct 9 10:55:45 EDT 2009)>Yes, Ann. I will certainly do that for you.

Cranky combo-platter #4,567

Since the Full Moon (aka the first-month anniversary of Linda's passing), I have noticed myself a little less than charitably inclined towards life's little irritations and irritants. Okay, I've been cranky. So cranky, I am beginning to wonder if a pair or two of Linda's contrary underwear were part of my inheritance.

I even dropped an F-bomb earlier today--no, make that two. Of course, it is a rare day when a gal manages to get twisted up in her dog's leash and spills half a cup of hot coffee on her pants while picking up dog doo. Definitely merited a twofer in the "bomb" category, I'd say.

Perhaps it's the pressure from work (note to self: next time you have to take leave for any reason, try not to come back from said leave during the height of busy season and/or after a layoff, okay?). Perhaps it was my need to discuss money matters more than once this week (though I met with a financial person today who seems very promising, I'm happy to note). Perhaps it's just grief, or sorrow, or just big, fat sadness taking on a cranky guise.

This is probably not a multiple choice matter. Yet another combo-platter, I'm guessing. Sigh.

Yes, I am functioning, but not at 100%. Am getting "must dos" done, but not much else. That is going to have to do for now, and if anybody doesn't like it, he or she is just going to have to [fill-in-your-favorite-physical-insult-here].

Thank God for friends, for sweetness, for Shwea. For God, too, for that matter (he/she/it finds me very amusing, from what I can see).

Oh well, that's something, eh?