Tag Archives: marriage

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My toe has platted.

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In other words, my knee recovery has plateaued.

After a few weeks of what felt like rapid healing and progress… I seem to have stalled and can’t find the choke.

I’ve been assured this is normal but it’s annoying all the same.

At almost four weeks post partial knee replacement I’m mobile, independent and thankfully back behind the wheel.

Three weeks of sending my husband to the grocery store with a list, individual product descriptions and a detailed schematic of the store’s layout still resulted in the purchase of incorrect items… so I’m very glad to be able to resume my normal chores.

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I did however make the mistake of telling my physical therapist I didn’t think I was getting much out of the visits at my appointment yesterday, so she doubled down and worked me extra hard. This morning I’m swollen, in pain, back on the ice and limping… which I haven’t done in weeks.

Sometimes it’s preferable to keep your mouth shut.

Lesson learned.

My scar is still prominent, though a little less Frankenstein-ish.

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The erythema discoloration… which I learned was the dilation of blood capillaries – knee replacement is so educational!…. has mostly disappeared so that’s good.

I’ve been told to wait another week on scar tissue massage but I have a large crease and dent at the top that I’m anxious to break up so my vitamin E oil is ready and waiting.

Overall things are good.

Still having trouble going down stairs like a normal human being, but I’ll get there.

Someday.

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Husband nursing, aka – porn for women.

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Day 3 of partial knee replacement.

Horribly swollen, stiff, uncomfortable and starting to show some bruising.

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Last day with the sexy compression stocking and I’m doing the best I can to remain positive. I ice, I elevate, I hobble around with the walker I said I wouldn’t use.

Ha!

Shows what I know. That thing is my best friend right now.

Home physical therapist came for the first time today and damn. Just that little bit of exercise knocked me for a loop. Tired doesn’t begin to describe it.

The nerve block hasn’t worn off yet, which is a bit unusual but not unheard of. They say 4-48 hours and I’m past 80, but if it keeps the pain at bay I won’t complain about the constant numbness.

My husband? He’s really stepped up.

When I had my hysterectomy 11 years ago he was a lousy nurse so I had my doubts this time around, but the man has been wonderful. He brings me everything I need, feeds me, makes sure I don’t fall, keeps tracks of my meds and yes…

He’s doing housework.

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Be still my heart.

I’ve waited 42 years for this!

He vacuumed, swept, dusted, does the dishes and ran a load of laundry. He scrubbed the shower and feeds the cat. He even took everything out of the fridge and washed it clean.

This is (almost) better than sex.

My recovery won’t be pleasant…. but it’s wonderful to have a caring partner help me through the tough parts.

❤️

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Work around the house is never done.

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Remember when my husband bought an antique wagon two years ago?

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The one he had to build an extension on our shed to house?

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The shed extension I had to paint?

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The extension he built a door on last year but never finished?

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Well yours truly got tired of staring at bare wood and picked the hottest day of the summer to remedy that.

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Painting carefully around the hinges?

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Not fun.

Painting carefully around the handle?

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Less fun.

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But even less fun than that?

Wanting to finish … but discovering we had no white exterior trim paint.

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One lousy board from completion I quit and retired to the shade of the barn porch.

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Where my husband joined me, poured a beer and told me he’s thinking about selling the antique wagon.

The one he simply had to have.

The one that’s only been displayed on the lawn a handful of times because he won’t leave it out in bad weather or overnight and it’s a pain in the *ss to maneuver in and out of the shed extension.

I can’t say I’m surprised.

But I am a little annoyed.

And full to bursting with unvocalized I told you so’s .

🥴

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He really needs to stop going to the dump.

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My husband had to take a few things to the dump recently, and you know what happens when he does that.

Our “dump” is more of a recycling center… complete with a gift shop where everything is free, and there in lies the problem.

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He came home with a table and chairs.

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Do we need a table and chairs from the dump?

We do not.

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But my husband couldn’t resist bringing it home and fixing it up to sell.

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He cleaned, he polished, he tightened, he glued.

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I told him to recover the horrible (plastic? vinyl?) seats but that was a bridge too far.

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So now there’s a table and chair set clogging up the man cave/Barn Mahal.

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Sigh…

🥴

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He likes it … in theory.

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There’s a restaurant under the black awning in this corner building in downtown Augusta.

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It’s a place my husband continually thinks he likes, but really doesn’t.

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I love that their beer is tapped in an old copper still.

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And while the pomegranate margarita was killer, I admit their version of hushpuppies was not.

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We’ve been here a few times and because I enjoy barbecue, I liked my meal.

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Half a dry rubbed chicken, sweet potato fries, slaw and jalapeño cornbread.

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My husband on the other hand complained his (very tender and flavorful) ribs didn’t have enough meat, his beans weren’t New England style, his slaw was too dry and his cornbread too spicy.

He doesn’t really like barbecue, but always thinks he does… no matter how many times I tell him he won’t be pleased.

Short memory, or stubbornness? Either way it will probably be another year before he suggests going out for barbecue again.

😉

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We’re getting closer to a decision.

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I liked this bed, my husband didn’t.

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He liked this bed, but I didn’t.

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I liked this bed, the husband didn’t.

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He liked this bed, but I didn’t.

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Neither of us liked this bed, but Lord Dudley Mountcatten would have loved to scratch and shred it.

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Basically the decision we made is to just buy a mattress and keep our old bedroom furniture for now.

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And to be honest, that will probably cost more than our entire room of solid mahogany furniture we bought (many, many) years ago.

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So as much as my menopausal night sweats cried out for this icy cold pillow?

I couldn’t justify the $300 price tag.

$300.

For a pillow.

😳

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Let’s talk weddings.

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My husband and I met and got married in 6 days.

We would have done it sooner, but had to wait 3 days for the license.

True story.

Really.

Our “wedding” was at a town hall, performed by a Justice of the Peace. It took place in January, in Maine, during a N’Or Easter. We had to take a boat across the bay and schlepp up a ramp and across a pier in the frigid blowing snow. If memory serves, the temperature was 2 degrees. Instead of a gown, I wore dress slacks, a cashmere sweater and fancy boots. Instead of guests, we had 3 family witnesses. There was no reception, no photographer, no band, no caterer. My guy was on leave from the Marine Corps and after the ceremony we had to jump in the car for a thousand mile trip south to get him back to base on time.

Total cost?

$35, plus tip to the JOP.

That was 41 years ago.

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A friend of mine spent over $50,000 for her elaborate destination wedding. The dress was from Paris, the flowers were flown in from a trendy designer in New York, the bridesmaid’s gifts were from Tiffany.

They were divorced 2 years later.

Make of that what you will.

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It’s about love and commitment, not what you spend.

💕

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My fingers are crossed for him!

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My husband’s dream may be coming true.

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Bring an avid collector, one of my guy’s favorite programs is Antiques Roadshow. He watches it religiously, envious of all the people who clean out their attics and find priceless treasure.

While I watch the show and see hundreds of people standing in endless lines in the hot sun, clutching and dragging cumbersome objects, inching forward in slow motion for a mind boggling number of tedious hours, just to spend two minutes with an appraiser who tells them grandma’s objet d’art is a fake…

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My husband sees the lucky 6 out of 6,000 people who have something worthy and simply knows that could be him.

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So when I saw this article in a local paper…

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I decided to give him the chance to be lucky.

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After a bit of research I discovered you don’t pay for tickets, they’re free. The catch is… the only way to get them is to enter a sweepstakes. You sign up, submit your name (one per household) and hope they pick you.

So that’s what I did.

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And since my husband’s birthday is right around the bend, I printed that announcement out and put it in a wrapped gift box.

My fingers are crossed they pick our name… not because I want to stand in line for all those bunion busting hours, but because I love my guy and it would make him happy.

And hey, the blog fodder factor could be off the charts.

😉

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He tries. He really does…

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My husband is always on the road, always out and about. Since he’s newly retired and bored out of his mind? He runs errands. The other day he told me he was going to stop at the grocery store on the way home and asked if I wanted anything.

I requested one item… Panera’s Everything Bagels. Simple enough, but I made sure to describe them fully and wrote the name on a post it note because I’ve received a lot of items I didn’t want in the past by not being specific.

A few hours later, he came home with this.

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When he saw my face and realized that wasn’t what I’d asked for, he explained he ran into an old friend in the parking lot, talked for half an hour (shocking, I know) and forgot to take the post it into the store with him… but he remembered I said it has seeds on the top.

He tried.

❤️

The next day he had a dentist appointment and stopped at the grocery store afterwards.

He came home with this:

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Better – they were bagels, and the right brand but plain not everything.

He tried.

❤️

A few days after that I’d forgotten I even wanted bagels, but he came home from breakfast with this :

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Right brand, right seasoning, wrong shape.

Bless his heart… you should have seen his face when he realized that wasn’t quite right either. “I give up” he said.

0 for 3.

But he tries.

He really does.

❤️

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