While I was at the beach recently, a friend texted to ask if I would be interested in a second cat. They had adopted a rescue cat from an animal shelter and after two days, her husband had shown signs of being allergic to the cat. Since he had been around a lot longer than the cat, it didn’t seem right to put him out. So, they needed a home for the cat. They tried their children, but no luck. So, on Monday afternoon, they brought her to my house.
 
We thought Spiral (our rescue cat) needed a playmate, and while there might be sparks at the beginning, they would probably adjust. They look very similar, Spiral is just darker and Naima has more tan on her. She was originally called Lilly, but Ben decided to rename her. Naima means ‘sleeping’ in Arabic. She does a lot of that.
 
Well, I put her in Ben’s room, as he wanted to be the parent of this animal. She quickly hid under his bed, and, confident that Spiral was asleep in my closet, I closed the door. We were talking when I heard some growls and screeches coming from Ben’s room. Apparently Spiral was in there, but we couldn’t find her. Shortly, Ben arrived home and explained that Spiral has been climbing up through a hole in the cloth under the box spring mattress and sleeping inside his mattress like a hammock. He had heard her moving around and seen her paws moving the cloth. (I must fix that hole!!!) Anyway, Spiral was in the mattress and Naima was stretched out on the floor just waiting for Spiral to come out. Spiral wouldn’t come out because Naima was there. Somehow, after a few hours of standoff, Spiral managed to escape to my room.
 
Naima has been curious about her new home, so she slips around sniffing things. Ben wanted to pick her up, but I told him to just go near her and sit down. She jumped into a nearby chair and he patted his lap for her to come to him and she did. He was thrilled. She has adopted him as her personal human, and doesn’t have a lot to do with me. She has her own litterbox and food and water in his room. He now sleeps with her, but sometimes she decides it is time to play, about 3:00 in the morning. She starts biting his feet and leaping around on the bed.
 
For several days now, the two cats have avoided each other. When they do meet there are some growls and bushy tails, but so far they have not had an out and out fight. The other evening, Naima was in my lap (for a change) and Spiral came to get in my lap. She looked up and saw Naima in my lap and about had a fit! She went off in a huff.
 
So, I will be taking Naima to the vet for her wellness visit on Tuesday, or rather Ben will be taking her. He might as well learn what is involved in caring for another. Today he left the house without feeding her. That is not going to go down well. Life promises to be interesting in the coming days. Our next task will be putting Soft Paws on both cats so they can’t hurt the furniture, my mother’s hooked rugs or each other.

​For several months, I had noticed that my iPad was unhappy. It wouldn’t do email anymore and playing games was a test of endurance as it kept shutting down unexpectedly. Every now and then I got a message saying it was almost out of space and I should manage that in my settings. I deleted a bunch of things, but it didn’t really get any better.
 
Then my iPhone began behaving similarly. It said it was out of room. Things were getting desperate. I backed both machines up on my computer and headed to the T-Mobile store for advice. The solution was a rather frightening option – reset! Reset means it erases EVERYTHING and you start over! YIKES!
 
I’m not the techiest person you know, but fools rush in where angels fear to tread. I pressed the RESET option with some trepidation. It rebooted and started up, but of course my information was not there. I tried to locate the download to my computer, but I got a message that it couldn’t upload to my phone. Thankfully, there was another option to get the information from the Cloud (wherever that is), and I took it. Within a few minutes, my phone was restored and had space! Whew. I think almost everything is there.
 
Having been successful with the iPhone, I did the same with the iPad. Likewise, it is now happy and functioning much better. I breathed a sigh of relief and rejoiced that my problems were over. BUT it was not to be.
 
The next week, just as I was getting comfortable with the idea of having saved two electronic devices from destruction, I attempted to upgrade my email program. The first time I tried that, it was taking DAYS to download, and always failed somewhere along the line. I tried again, and this time, I succeeded. The only problem was, none of my data transferred over to the new version. Oops.
 
I contacted my computer support person and he had me export my email, which is HUGE, and put it on my hard drive. Then we tried to import it into the new program. Guess what message I received from my computer! The 500GB hard drive is full! This seems to be a recurring problem. This is the third computer, and maybe the fourth that I’ve simply added to. I guess it is time to clean up! Further research indicated that 250GB were full of documents. Oh dear!
 
Well, he cleaned up enough of the junk files to get my email loaded and functional, but warned me I needed to do some serious housekeeping. I’m pretty good about keeping my physical things down to what I need. Unfortunately, I’m a hoarder when it comes to computer files. I guess that habit has to change!
 
I ended up spending some money to have tech support optimize my computer. That took about 15 hours of work over several days. By the time that was done, I had more space, but the writing was on the wall (or on my computer). So, now, after nearly a month, I’m spending my evenings deleting document files. I’ve found one from 1999 and lots from 2002. If I delete 100 files a night, I reckon in two years, I’ll be finished with this task and can start on my email! HA!

First, you have to realize, I don’t “play” well. I don’t like going places alone and being seen alone when I go out to eat or really to be in public alone. It looks so pathetic! I can almost hear people saying, “You can’t find even ONE friend who wants to be with you?”  Mind you, I don’t mind BEING alone, just being seen alone.
 
Also, if you want to “play”, you have to plan. You have to find out what there is to do in places you may want to go, and then decide if you want to do any of the available options. Those decisions take time and thought, and it make a chore of planning a vacation.
 
However, I am blessed with lots of friends all over the US and around the world. So, my vacation planning is developing into “visiting friends”.  About a month ago, I decided I needed to plan a vacation, so I picked a date almost out of the air, and decided on a direction. There were at least four people in the Grand Rapids, Chicago area that I hadn’t seen in far too long. It is cooler up north than heading south, so that seemed the logical direction to aim for. I wrote to them and found there were five people I could see, three in Grand Rapids and two in Chicago. They were going to be home during the specified time, so I made flight reservations and my work was done.
 
I’m at the end of my visit now, and it has been very successful. Some days have been very intense as I hear the stories of what my friends have been through over the years. Some are dealing with caring for an elderly parent, some have struggles with siblings, many have health issues. As you probably know, it is always easier to solve other people’s problems than it is your own. So, as long as I’ve had some time alone to replenish my reserves, it has been enjoyable. I’ve seen lots of new things. I even found a $1.00 bill in Lake Michigan as I was wading in to go for a swim.
 
My friends in the Chicago area have taken me to a Lapidary Museum, the architectural cruise in Chicago and Saturday night we went to hear the Chicago Symphony in Ravinia. I’ve had a tour of Wheaton College and eaten some nice meals both at home and in restaurants. In addition to the expected visits, I’ve had at least two unexpected ones. One young lady is planning to go to work in North Africa in a few months, and we got together for a chat. I was able to answer some of her questions and help her learn some Arabic sounds. Another young woman is about to start her MA degree at Wheaton. She had studied under me in Africa, so we got to catch up on life over lunch. She will go to the concert with us later tonight.
 
It has been good not to think about my own problems and plans, but to focus on others for this 10 days. Vacation is as much a rest of the mind as of the body. I feel a closer connection to each of these people I’ve visited, and have a great appreciation for the way God has worked out each timing so perfectly. Hopefully when I get home, I will arrive with a new perspective, new energy and a good plan for scheduling other vacations.

Have you ever washed your pillows? Yes, I mean the ones you rest your head on each night. My mother informed me it was a good idea. She did that years ago, and I have since, on occasion, washed my pillows.
 
The other day, I decided that some of my pillows were in dire need of freshening up. So, I put two of them in the washing machine, gentle cycle, low spin. After some time, I went in to move them to the dryer. As I did that, I noticed water on the floor. I don’t normally see water on the floor in the laundry room.
 
Moving a large top-loading washing machine which was magically wedged in next to the dryer is not an easy task. It is also impossible to hold the washing machine up and look under it at the same time, if there is only one of you in the house. For some strange reason, water seemed to have run down the side of the machine. Why it would do that remains a mystery.  I mopped up the water, and cleaned a LOT of dirt under the bits I could get to.
 
As I had to go out, and was expecting company later in the evening, I decided to leave things as they were for the moment. However, comparison shopping for a new washing machine was engaging my mind.
 
The next day, I decided to run a test on the washing machine – just a small rinse cycle to see what would happen. Other than discovering a few feathers from the “Dry Clean Only” pillow, all seemed to be well. No water, no leaks. That was good because washing machines, even on the 4th of July sales, are pricey. This one has been in use since the mid-1990’s.
 
I’m now running a small test wash, and will see what happens. Hopefully all will end well, with no more water coming from anywhere. So far, so good.

Today, May 30 2018,  marks the end of a bottle of shampoo! Why should that be remarkable, you ask? Well, my mother was using this bottle of shampoo when I arrived back in the US in 2004. I’m not sure how long she had been using it before I got home, but it wasn’t new. I’ve used it regularly since that time, at least while I was in the US. After I moved back to Africa, I only used it when I was visiting, so that made it last even longer. It is now 2018. Finally, TODAY, I finished it. Admittedly, I had added water to the contents to get out the last bits, but the contents of the liter bottle finally came to an end.
 
Is there a moral to this story? I believe there is. In the US, bigger always seems to be seen as better. It is possible to buy almost anything in HUGE quantities, but then where do you store it until you need it? What if it passes the expiry date before you can use it? There are just some things that do NOT need to be purchased in vast quantities, and in my opinion, dandruff shampoo is one of them.

My aunt had been bedridden for six years. She was joyful in spite of her situation. But it was difficult to watch her slow decline and her failing memory. Last week, her body finally gave up and she passed on to her eternal life. This week, her daughter had arranged for the funeral service. She had asked several men to be pallbearers. One of the men has recently lost a lot of weight, and his mother told me that he was having difficulty keeping his trousers up. Apparently he hadn’t invested in either a belt or suspenders. He shall remain nameless to protect the “innocent”.
 
In talking with my cousin today, the day after the funeral, I mentioned this trouser challenge. We spent some good moments considering what would have happened had his trousers slipped their moorings.
 
Imagine if he had been carrying the coffin to the hearse using both hands when his trousers dropped to his ankles. What to do? If he let go of the coffin to grab his trousers, the whole group might drop the coffin. That wouldn’t do.
 
If the trousers slipped down around his ankles and he couldn’t pull them up, then he would have to shuffle bare legged to the hearse. It might be the beginning of a whole new funeral dance.
 
I can’t imagine what the relatives would have said or done had that really happened, but the image of that predicament gives me a smile, and I hope it will cause some joy when sadness threatens to overwhelm.

Ever since I tore both the medial and lateral menisci in my right knee, things have not been right. I limped for nearly a year before I had surgery to trim them up and hopefully reduce my pain level. Then I limped for three more months getting over the surgery. Gradually, though I did see progress. But I could feel the bones clicking and going up and down steps became increasingly difficult. My knee was badly swollen, and the doctor indicated I just had to live with that.
 
A few months ago, I fell down a flight of steps (See post Going Down.) The projected knee replacement wasn’t going to happen for 10 years; so I was told by the doctor. I knew I wouldn’t last that long. Then along came hope.
 
The procedure must have recently been approved because Facebook is full of it. My chiropractor has been having his staff trained and the new machine purchased (or whatever they do with equipment like that). On April 24, 2018, I was the first patient to be processed. I was excited, and so were they. They had a trainer there to oversee things, and that too was comforting.
 
On the first day, the 23rd, I was given a consultation. Then, on the 24th we started the procedure. They needed to inject some dye into the knee to make sure the synovial sack didn’t leak. Actually, mine was full of fluid, so they decided to drain the fluid before putting anything else in there. As they had a very long and fairly large needle sticking into my knee, they started pulling off fluid. It didn’t hurt. I couldn’t feel anything, but my body has never responded well to people putting holes in my body. I nearly fainted when I had my ears pierced.
 
At first, I felt woozy, and so they gave me some smelling salts. That helped for a few seconds, but then I asked for some candy. I had just started to suck on the peppermint when I knew my stomach was going to erupt. I told them, but they moved rather too slowly. It was a tiny room with a lot of equipment, and five staff plus me in the big chair with the new machine. I nearly christened them all! The machine got a good dose, as did my clothes, the chair the footstool and the floor. After it was all over, they got me the garbage can. It took some minutes to clean all that up (as a biohazard!). I got a new t-shirt out of the deal and they ran my trousers through a dryer. They believed I have been a good start to their training, as they now have a lot better idea what kind of equipment needs to be available, like a barf bag!
 
Once that was all over, I got ice on my knee for 10 minutes and then was fitted with some fancy knee braces, which are my to keep for the rest of my life. I need to wear them when I’m walking or doing exercise, but not when sitting or lying down. They keep the bones separated so they don’t hit together and cause pain. The actual injection of the “magic fluid” happens tomorrow, the 26th. I will have injections once a week for five weeks and physical therapy for eight weeks. The treatment should last for about six months, and then can be repeated. Apparently Medicare will pay the full cost, which will be wonderful – and a lot cheaper and less stressful than a knee replacement. Maybe I will make it for the next 10 years!!! I’m also getting BOTH knees done, so maybe I will be able to use the stairs, hike and swim again in the near future!

One moment, I was carefully taking a step down the stairs, the next moment my head made a loud THUMP on the landing.
 
Yes, I’ve had knee surgery – to repair torn menisci and my bursitis was acting up. Going down stairs has been more difficult than going up stairs. So, as I stood at the top of the tile steps, the kind with the metal strip on the edge (to keep you from slipping), I looked over at the elevator. There were about six people waiting to get into the rather small conveyance, so I decided I could make it on the stairs.
 
In accordance with my training, bad foot went down. I held on to the handrail. Then I started to put my good foot down, and also to change my handhold. Maybe I caught my heel. I really can’t remember. But all of a sudden, I realized I was launched into the air toward the middle of the empty staircase. I desperately tried to catch myself, but my feet only landed on the edges of the steps as I tumbled forward, gaining momentum. My only conscious thought was, “Oh dear, here I go again!” I knew this wasn’t going to end well.
 
And yes, I’ve done this before – with a suitcase in the London Underground. On that unfortunate occasion I somersaulted over the suitcase and landed on my back on the landing. Those were cement stairs with metal strips embedded in the cement. HARD! SHARP! I knew I wouldn’t survive if I tensed up, so I tried to make like a rag doll. I think it helped.
 
This time, I didn’t have a suitcase. I’m not sure what happened to my coat, books and handbag. They ended up on the landing with me, but unfortunately not under me. As I landed on the stairs, I felt my shoulder hitting the last three or four, then my the top left side of my head went THUD on the landing and at last I was still and on solid ground – well the landing at least.  I had descended the 10 steps significantly more quickly than if I had walked!
 
You know the cartoon drawings where the unfortunate character gets hit in the head and the circles and stars go round and round. Well, that is pretty accurate. I had to lie still for a few seconds just to get through being stunned.
 
Immediately, a man rushed up the lower flight of stairs asking if I was all right and if I had been unconscious. I indicated “No” I hadn’t been unconscious. I was still trying to assess the state of my head, which had hit pretty hard. I may end up later in life with signs of traumatic brain injury! But for now, at least, I was thankful that I have a really hard head.
 
Suddenly another man was at my side, Dr. Kim. He is a Korean doctor who is known all over Knoxville for having set up a health clinic for the working poor. He also asked if I had been unconscious, and having determined I hadn’t been, they asked if I was hurt anywhere else. I ascertained that nothing was broken – another amazing fact. They helped me sit up and then to stand up. When I finally was on my feet I could see the face of the first man, so I said, “Hello!” They both helped me down the remaining steps, carrying my various items of clothing and books.
 
For some years now, I have bemoaned my large bone structure. Sometimes I feel like the Jolly Green Giant next to my very petite friends. I have the shoulders of a football player and very large, and apparently strong bones. For the first time in a long while, I was grateful for that.
 
They asked if someone was with me. I hesitantly said, “Yes”. Ben was waiting for me in the sanctuary, because all of this happened in church. I managed to walk down the hall and into the service, though my head was still swimming a bit and my eyes didn’t seem to focus quite right. However, after the service I felt well enough to drive home.
 
I took the rest of the day very easy with lots of ice bags and Ibuprofen. The bruising started to come out, but by Monday, I still didn’t have a black eye in spite of the bump on my head. After taking Ben to school and doing the grocery shopping, I called my chiropractor and got an appointment for later in the morning.
 
Dr. Chris, my chiropractor, as well as most of the staff were amazed that not more of me was injured. X-rays were taken, but nothing was broken. After unjamming my neck, I can turn my head more normally now. I have three huge bruises and the bump on my head, but not even any broken skin! Someone was protecting me, and I certainly am glad about that! Ben is too!
 
These events happened about a week ago, so I’ve had time to reflect on lessons learned.  First, when I have problems with my knee, take the elevator. Failing that option, go down the carpeted stairs. Second, explore the fashion options of bubble wrap. Third, remember that I’m a good Presbyterian and say, “I’m glad that’s over!”
 
(In case you don’t understand that last comment, Presbyterians believe in predestination. Many assume that is a fatalistic view of life, and that all things are predestined.)

In talking with an Iraqi refugee that is now a US citizen, we got on to the topic of honesty. I was startled to hear him say, “Americans want to hear lies, even when they know it’s a lie.  Americans would rather hear something ‘nice’ than to hear the truth.” So, when he moved to the US, he saw how people talked, and realized he would have to do the same thing to get what he wanted.
 
That statement, as I’ve reflected on it, has becoming increasingly disturbing. Is that why we only want to hear news that reflects our firmly held views? Is that why our politicians can no longer talk about compromise or even discuss issues with those of a different opinion? Do whites not want to hear about racial discrimination because they don’t believe it could be true, and don’t want to be confronted with an uncomfortable truth? Is that how we can ‘dehumanize’ others so we can abuse them without feeling guilty? And we do it all in the name of being ‘nice’.
 
It is dangerous to surround ourselves with those who are just like us. In that setting, we can continue to repeat what we think is the truth, even if it is a lie. Those who want to be acceptable to us just need to learn what lies to tell us. We get affirmation; they get on the inside. But what is the result?
 
We repress the truth, what is left? Lies, deceit, hate, discord. Is it worth it? Or should we love the truth, however it may hurt our feelings or challenge our assumptions and prejudices.

After a week of below freezing temperatures, I had occasionally run water at night to keep the pipes from freezing. I put insulated covers over my outside faucets. But then it happened. On Saturday morning, I got up and when I flushed the commode, I heard, well nothing. After the departure of the water, nothing came in. I knew I was in trouble. Sure enough, I turned on the tap and only a drizzle came out.
 
I never had this problem when I lived in Africa. In Sudan, we were lucky to get water at all and in Kenya, the compound had invested in huge water tanks to protect from water cuts. In no place that I’ve lived did it ever freeze, so frozen taps were not a consideration. Now, I had to think what to do.
 
First, I contacted my neighbors to find out if they had water. Perhaps I was not the only one, and misery loves company. However, they all had water. I alone was without.
 
Next I tried to find the number of the water company, but I needed the emergency number, and that was nowhere to be found. So, I got online, and sure enough, there was a place to report an outage. I reported.
 
My neighbor suggested that I get some old towels or blankets and put around the meter and pipes to warm them up. It was about 15°F out there, and I couldn’t really see that blankets were going to help. But, I found some old sheets and after throwing on some warm clothes, headed out to put them down the hole where the meter was. Much to my amazement, within 15 minutes of my reporting the outage, the water repair people were on the job. They had the lid off and were studying the situation.
 
Their solution was interesting to say the least. They took a “sacrificial” rag, put alcohol on it and set it alight in the hole. One had a fireproof glove, so he moved the burning rag around to warm up the pipes. He sent me in to turn on the water and then report when water started flowing. It didn’t take long. I asked if this was one of those “don’t try this at home” tricks, and they assured me it was.
 
They explained the freeze up should never have happened. Apparently the connection on the water company’s side of the meter was poorly done. He said he would report it because it should be repaired properly. I don’t think he used that term, however. I asked what I should do until then, and he said, “Run water”.
 
So, I’ve washed clothes, washed dishes, washed me and left the tap running at night until the temperatures rose. Ben and I are even more grateful than ever for warmer weather in the forecast!