RAIN, RAIN, GO AWAY....

We need rain.... desperately.

We're not in anything like the drought in California - I mean, hey, we're in Arizona.

But we've had a good growing season, and then a longer than normal dry period, where everything which grew has turned into tinder.

We've got a very, very high fire rating right now.

So we need the rain.

But I don't need the rain.

My husband keeps remarking what a comforting sound rain makes.

While when I hear rain falling, I'm thinking

- my poor horse is outside standing in it.

- my poor dog, who doesn't understand why she keeps getting put on in the rain, and just waits patiently at the same door to come back in.

- a leak which shows up occasionally in my bathroom.

- how muddy it's going to be tomorrow.

Maybe I need to watch "Singing In The Rain" before I try to go to sleep to change my attitude.

ANSWERS TO MOST QUESTIONS

1. Chocolate.






2. More sleep.









3. Time.

TIRED OR DEPRESSED?

I freely admit to being one of those persons who needs 9-10 hours of sleep a night.

When I was little, I would never get upset about nap time - I loved it.

Even when I was in high school, I would happily come home from school and take a little cat-nap.

I managed all those years of working full-time by using my lunch break for sleep - hidden away in some supply closet on a blanket on the floor - that little couch in the back shipping area - even the backseat of my car in the parking garage.

When I was using the public transportation in D.C., I could dose while on the Marc heading for home (and only slept through my stop a couple of times).

But now, not working regular hours, I am actually getting that 9-10 hours at night... and a couple more hours through naps.

But I am still craving more.

I am exercising - I'm up to two miles a day - I am getting out and doing things.

But I don't hang around with people much - I still live with a chronically depressed husband.

Is this trying to escape reality - is it depression -

or is it simply old age now?

LATE NIGHT TELEVISION

I end up watching television late at night simply to try awake late enough until it's time to go to bed.

Otherwise I'll fall asleep around 7 p.m., and then be up most of the night after just a couple of hours of sleep.

My husband's dead to the world around 8:30 p.m., so I don't feel I can do any productive (i.e. NOISY) housework - I play around on the computer (and write stupid blog entries like this on) while trying to stay awake.

So it's isn't so much late night television as the magic of RECORDING shows I normally watch that are running while I'm busy with other things - then, at 10 p.m., I can watch Mythbusters, Supernatural, reruns of The Office, the opening monologue of Jay Leno's show.

Okay, it's 10:16 p.m. - the heck with this, I'm going to bed.

SCHEDULED INSOMNIA

After years and years of scorn for insomniacs, I am now dependent on a small blue pill if I expect to get any actual sleep.

But now I need to plan for a few nights of staying awake all night.
There are certain advantages, honestly, to being awake all night - such as:

- Hours and hours of stunningly awful grade-B movies, like "Godzilla Meets Vampire Baby" and "Human Zombies At The Prom."

- Finding all the your friends who are also insomniacs on Facebook and writing what will appear tomorrow as meaningless babble but at the moment appears incredible profound.

- The number of infomercial that promise instant youth, immediate slender and fit bodies, erections that may last up to four hours all for never-ending payments of $34.99 a month, payable through any type of plastic, just call our operators in Sri Lanka within the next five minutes.

- The ever increasing weight of your exhausted limbs as the exhaustion grows; it is novel.

- The gradual, almost unmeasurable but beautiful moments of increasing luminous in the east.

- Finally falling asleep just as the rest of the world is waking up, into that deep deep zone of fatigue that hits the absolute bottom of dreamless sleep.

I think I better wait until tomorrow night, however - than I can sleep when everyone else is gone.

FEELING LIKE CPAC

My husband has severe sleep apenea.

He snores - and then stops breathing - and then gasps for breath, waking himself up - and then begins snoring again.

His doctor prescribed a CPAC machine for him a few years ago, but he was uncomfortable enough with it after just a few mintues that he never used it.

My second daughter has sleep apenea.... ditto.

I just got a CPAC machine... and I love it. But I don't look anything like the lady on the right - however, the photo on the right is almost a perfect representation.

I don't have sleep apenea, but after undergoing two sleep studies (see my blog from 1/26/10), I had low-enough oxygen intake that hey, it couldn't hurt. My doctor was very much, "hey, if it helps, great, if it doesn't, you don't have to stay with it."

And it's only two nights, but I now know how much of my regular day was ruled by feelings of sheer exhaustion - all of it.

Right now, after six hours of sleep with the stupid, loud, sputtering CPAC machine right by my head, I feel WONDERFUL.

Please, may it continue.

IMPROVING DEAFNESS

One negative experience can affect our entire life.

One candidate can turn you into (or against) a particular political party.

A poorly prepared meal can taint your taste buds forever (perhaps why I hate seafood so much).

And when you purchase a product that doesn't do what it is supposed to do, you are likely to give up on the entire concept.

I have, however, discovered something.

There are earplugs nowadays that actually can BLOCK noise.

Where were these 31 years ago, eh, when I married the king of snoring?!

FELIS CATUS VS SCOLOPENDRA

I have a unique cat.

Let me rephrase that - a unique cat has me.

Pandora caught my attention this evening by doing two things:

- He stretched out completely on his back - both front and back legs thrown out - and went to SLEEP like that.

- And he tackled an 18 inch centipede - and BEAT it.

Somebody come over and rock me to sleep tonight, okay? I am terrified that this guy has an older brother who is going to show up SEEKING REVENGE.

RUNAWAYS

Some things in my life are as predictable as the sun rising in the east, Wal-Mart not having enough cashiers, and the U.S. Postal Service having a minium of six people waiting in line at any given time of day.

Also, in my universe:

1) I can never walk out of Target with less than $45 worth of merchandise, even if I came in for only one thing.

2) The moon will always set 10 minutes before I expect it to, necessitating a literal walking-by-faith-and-memory walk for about 40 yards around 11:30 p.m. to say good night to the horses.

3) My dog Murray will never refuse a piece of bologna or an opportunity to go outside with me.

And 4) each and every day, both my horses will be lined up at the fence right by their water tank at 3:30 p.m., and if they are not fed by 3:45 p.m., Najale will begin whining every three and one half minutes until they are.

Guaranteed.

So today at 3:55 p.m., when I glanced out the kitchen window and see - GASP - no horses at all. No whinnying. No hoof stomping. Nada.

My heart stopped for just a moment.

The dogs and I went outside, walked slowly and deliberately to the gate, calling the horses loudly by name.

Now, my horse, he hears his name if I whisper it inside the house next to an open window. Literally. Sometimes he responds to me just THINKING about him.

He has never, in the five and a half years I have owned him, once ignored a call from me - because there might just be food involved.

If Najale is sound asleep on the ground (which horses don't in general, so of course it's the only way mine does), he does not leap to his hooves like a regular horse., but he will peer sleepily at me and will let me sit on his side and pet him (this horse is either incredibly trusting or just plain stupid, I'm not entirely certain which).

So with no response this afternoon, when normally there would be two hungry horses responding (doesn't mean I don't feed them enough, just means Najale is an incredibly vocal PIG), I began to panic just a bit, and began to mentally list possibilities:

- They could have jumped the fence and taken off for greener pastures. Not that there really are greener pastures at this time of year in southern Arizona, but there are a number of spots along the fence that either horse could easily hop over if they really wanted to.

- Both horses could have died at the extreme far end of the pasture, burying each other so I won't notice the bodies - or maybe they both preferred cremation, who knows.

- Najale and/or Sally could have been stolen by someone looking for a pleasure horse without knowing Sally is an insane Thoroughbred who believes she is running at Belmont whenever you get on her back, and Najale who, despite his age, is a goofy baby who has never had a bit in his mouth and opens only voice commands... when he feels like it.

- And the final, and least likely one of all, is that they are BOTH standing compactly side-by-side inside their shed at the exact angle and spot where their hooves cannot be seen from outside of the fence.

And yes, they were.

Whew.

MY BLANKIE

I was slightly frustrated that none of my children ever developed an attachment to an object. It seemed customary for toddlers to want a certain blanket or doll or pacifier, but my kids were happy with just any regular toy, cover or binkie.

So perhaps that is why I have developed certain clinging idiosyncrasies. It is very important for me to have 'my' bowl, 'my' glass, and 'my' table.

Part of it may simply be because of living a sort of transient life with military assignments. We never knew exactly where we were going next, and certainly never when it was going to happen. For an Army family, we actually made very few moves, but the menace of a move hangs over you constantly.

And growing up, my family moved a lot - and suddenly. As a child, I may simply have not been aware of any planning, but it seemed that many moves were abrupt - unscheduled - hasty.

Plus the relationship between my parents was, even at the very best of time, tenuous. The possibility of one or the other not being there the next day was a reality that I learned to deal with.

But perhaps that why I became attached to certain things.

Which leads me to today's blog subject.

I have had a green, cotton blanket for… oh, for quite a while. I have purchased bought replacements - I mean, it's not as if it's been one particular blanket. But it's lightweight, it's perfect for naps (one of my primary reasons for existence), and it's MINE.

Unfortunately, the last blanket developed certain… flaws.

It's sort of like when you get a run in your nylons; one small fiber gets pulled on the wrong way, and yikes - slow but determined destruction is going to follow, no matter how much care or clear nail polish you may use.

So the last time I traveled to my daughter's, I 'left' this bungled blanket there, in the naïve conviction that it would be easy to replace.

Au contraire, mi amigo, nein!

(And how many people do you know that can combine French, Spanish and German and not even realize it)

Suddenly my trips into town were fraught with foreboding; no one seemed to have on stock my green blanket! Target, always my standard - no blanket. All our linen supply places - no blanket. I finally succumbed to sheer desperation - I went to WalMart.

Tonight, after thoroughly washing it, my new blankie and I are settling down for a cool spring evening's night.

WHEN WE ARE NAPPING

People always seem to be impressed with horses. They weigh up to half a ton, but can be guided by a child. A horse could easily overcome you and yet will respond to a human's correctly placed finger. They move with such grace and speed and still allow us to channel that energy into our recreational pursuits.

And I don't know why, but people unfamiliar with horses always seem to be awed by the fact that horses CAN sleep while standing up.

I am emphasizing that they can sleep that way, since the fastest reaction to any danger would be from a standing position.

Only if a horse feels comfortable, protected, in a stable environment (pun intended) and safe, he will lay down to sleep.

But it is not an extremely smooth, lithe movement on their part, either laying down or getting back up. Which is probably the main reason they don't like to be caught in the act.

Which leads me to today's post.

I have known my horse since he was just over a year, and have owned him since he was 18 months old. I have spoiled him silly, but also make certain he knows who is boss (i.e. ME). And he will do what I ask when I ask it.

My most important training device is, at best, a novel one - I scratch his stomach.

Najale (my horse) simply LOVES to have his stomach scratched, and will do almost ANYthing I ask if he knows I'm gonna rub his belly. I discovered this by sheer accident, and have capitalized on it every since.

So when I find Najale laying down in the pasture, I need to approach him slowly and cautiously, murmuring with a softened tone so he knows it's me. But he will remain on the ground and let me walk right up to him.

Because I might, I just might, scratch his belly.

And for this great favor, for even the remotest possibility of at least a RUB somewhere, this 900+ lb. horse, 16.2 hands high, of majestic breeding and bearing, will get on his back like a puppy for me.

I try not to giggle too loud, just to keep a sliver of his dignity intact. But normally, when I get back to the house, I HOWL for several minutes with sheer delight at the sight of this powerful, beautiful animal wiggling in the dirt just for a rub on his belly.

So please, don't let him know.

SLEEPING ON THE CORNER

There are a few disadvantages about going to Oahu. The biggest is the six-plus hour plane ride from Los Angeles.

I had already been sitting on my big old fat butt for the two hours driving to the airport in Tucson - then the one-and-a-half hour flight to LAX - and then waiting for three hour there before the flight left.

It's difficult to do laps at an airport terminal (dodging passengers and luggage) although running backwards on those moving sidewalks has a certain surreal effect I do enjoy.

And I can't browse through the inflated-price shops without either bursting into tears because I find the most perfect laptop case that have ever existed for only $145,000 - or breaking into loud, raucous laughter at $34 price tag on a Wal-Mart item worth 34 cents.

So normally when I have more than twenty minutes to wait in an airport, I find the cleanest corner I can (usually an obscure corner either right AT the gate, or the furthest away), curl up with my luggage straps wound around protectively around my wrists multiple times to discourage any possible threat (although why a thief would even bother looking at my dirty-banged-up travel carry-ons for anything with actual cash value is beyond me), and go to sleep.

One of the great advantages of being partially deaf is if you sleep on your GOOD ear, the rest of the world disappears (or is at the least seriously muted).

No, I take that back. The ONLY advantage of being partially deaf is that.

Perhaps LAX has higher standards, or they just recently passed a law that no-good-bums-homeless-people cannot sleep in public places where it might-look-bad-to-the-tourist-flying-in-to-go-to-Disneyland. I figured since I obviously had already gone through all the security check points, and clearly WAS a passenger, no one would bother me.

However after dozing for just a few minutes, I was jolted awake by a female flight attendant who deliberately unlocked a fake-line-creating-random-column-holding-strips-of-seat-belt-like-material (that's the technical name for it) and allowed the automatic-fling-back-into-the-column mechanism (ditto) to SLAM one metal object (the clips-thing) into another metal object (the metal pole), creating a non-slumber-allowing KA-BOON.

It didn't break the sound-barrier, but to someone who was almost asleep, it was extremely painful.

While she didn't exactly smile as my groggy and exhausted body flung itself automatically into an upright position as my subconscious mind reacted to the sound and my dozing-trying-to-sleep mind careened together, causing all of my fifteen brain cells to slam into each other, it was obvious she enjoyed the reaction.

Then she calmly reconnected the fake-line-creating thingies back, and walked off.

I was pissed-off enough that I stayed awake the entire flight until we landed in Honolulu.

THE EARLY BIRD GETS... LESS SLEEP

Never make a doctor's appointment to be seen at 7:45 a.m.

You might think, well, there wouldn't be any wasted time in the waiting room, because you'll be the first patient seen. You'll just skate in and skate out.

Ha.

I already had to wake up at 4 a.m. to see my son off to college (since I drove up to Tucson when he came down, his dad had to drive him up today to catch the flight back).

And since I often sleep right through the nice CD player alarm I have (probably because it isn't the best idea to have something calm and soothing like Jim Brickman to wake you up), I thought, hey, let's use my CELL PHONE alarm. It's fairly loud, as every sound on my phone is (I'm partially deaf), so I was certain it would knock me out of slumber.

However, I did not really think it through, because for the alarm on my cell phone to work, you have to leave the phone ON.

So when one of your kids sweetly texts you a "Good Night, Mom!" at 1:02 a.m., IT WAKES YOU UP.

When a voice mail, left at 3:13 p.m. by your husband while he was at home and you were in town, finally comes wandering in after hanging in the cold air over Canada for almost twelve hours, IT WAKES YOU UP.

When your cell phone is programmed to 'beep' on the hour, IT WAKES YOU UP.

So going in to the doctor's at 7:45 a.m., after having... well, let's see, one hour and two minutes, plus two hours and eleven minutes, and then forty-seven minutes...

Well, let's just say it isn't worth it. Especially when it looks like both the doctor, his nurse, and the receptionist got every less sleep than you did.

Let's go get an extra-large Diet Coke and go take a nap. okay?