I am a Customer Operations Manager by day, and a Crazy Cat Lady in my off time. I live in a modest house, in a small town, close to the river. We have songbirds, eagles, rabbits, weasels, groundhogs, deer, coyotes, opossums, and cats. We live in harmony with the city-limits wildlife and they cause us no harm.
Though I have been feeding the feral cats for years, we recently ended the spring kitten explosion. Two years ago, a local rescue helped me trap, vaccinate, spay and release the 6 females in my colony. Since then, we still see four of the ‘Old Maids’ and have lost track of two of them. They come and go and we continue to feed them. They are healthy and tame enough for petting.
This morning, I had to confront the feral cat problem that I don’t see anymore. As I was dressed for work and in a hurry to lead an important meeting, I stopped out to feed the cats. There, in front of The Halfway House was a small tiger cat laying on the ground. It looked dead. On closer inspection it was a small, intact male who was emaciated and missing a leg. He was breathing. He was in very bad condition and suffering. I figured he could not survive and at 6:00 am I didn’t have many options to help him.
Fortunately, my cat rescue contact came thru and helped this guy out of his misery. She called for help and a very kind police officer picked him up and brought him to the local vet where he was humanely euthanized. I paid the bill and talked with the vet. The missing leg was healed over, so this cat had been living with an injury for a while. He was very sick with liver and kidney issues. He was starving and dehydrated. It takes a long time for an animal to get into this condition and they feel pain and suffering just as we do.
For 20 years I captured kittens and rehomed them. One year I trapped, neutered, and released (TNR) six female feral cats. For two years after that, there were no kittens. I know that TNR works. I know the cats are there whether we feed them or not. If we do feed them, they leave the songbirds alone and are less likely to carry disease.
Please spay and neuter your pet cats. Vaccinate them, and keep them indoors. If you notice feral cats around your property, call a local rescue to help get them TNR so they stop having kittens and we can decrease the feral cat population. Consider donating to local rescues so they can continue this work that benefits all of us.
As we get used to going back into the office for work, some habits must be relearned. I go to the office twice a week. The one-way commute is 45 minutes and the extra time cuts into my free thinking and productivity.
Once I am in the office, I enjoy being there. It’s all the prep that comes before the commute that steals my energy and focus. Do I have clean, office appropriate clothes? Do I have coffee? Should I pack a lunch? Did I put the dogs out? Is the door locked? Did I remember my laptop? Do I have gas in the car? Is there road construction? What time is my first meeting? And there are many more questions as the commute continues.
On Thursday, I pulled into the parking ramp and realized I had forgotten my phone at home. First meeting in less than an hour – no way I can go home and get it. Well, shoot! I have not been without my phone for years. So now what? I lead a large team, so it’s possible someone could be trying to contact me. My parents or husband may try to reach me. I am always there, for everyone, via my phone. OOF, this could be rough.
I was able to let my work team know I was missing my phone via interoffice chat. My daughter works at my same place, so I chatted her and she let my husband know about the missing phone. So there. I was ready for a day without my phone.
Guess what happened? Nothing. I worked all day, as usual. I didn’t check my phone multiple times that day. I didn’t know who posted what on the socials. Neither did I think about who posted what on the socials. It was a non-issue. Without the visual of the phone in front of me, I didn’t miss it.
I was steadfast in my Boomer roots. My thoughts were uninterrupted. They were my own. They were not compared to anyone else’s thoughts or activities. The images I viewed were live, in color, real life things and people. It was like I never had a whole world in my hands with a camera, computer and shopping assistant. It was fine. I was fine. I liked it.
And then I went home and got my phone. And that was the end of the old-timey experiment.
I live in Minnesota and it’s no secret the winters are long here. That’s why we have hotdish for dinner and go ice fishing for fun. But there is a chasm between Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day that can wear on the heartiest of Minnesotans. And today, that one is me, and I’m not feeling very hearty.
We’ve had ice, then snow, then ice, and then snow and today it was rain. Tomorrow will be colder and then Wednesday it will snow. The monotony of indoors is getting to me, so I had to get creative and think of something new to do.
I have a craft room and a sewing machine and neither have had much use lately. I wanted to do an easy project that would yield quick results, so I decided to make potholders. Seems easy, sounds fun.
Here’s what I bought: Insul Bright, insulated lining, cotton batting, green thread, shamrock print fabric, green print fabric. I already have the sewing machine, scissors, cutting wheel and fabric iron.
I had to get out the sewing machine book to figure out the settings that would go thru two liners and two fabrics, including rolled up edges. This was not easy, it was not even very fun. But I did finally use all of my project tools and materials that I have assembled during moments of high crafting aspirations and whirlwind shopping adventures.
In the end I did create two potholders. All tolled, the cost of each was a little more than $32.00.
I really hope the snow and rain and slush and ice melt away soon. I am just not sure if I have what it takes to finish my Irish potholders and move on to the Easter Bunny collection.
Ping, keeping it real with Snuggle Puppy and Bumble.
I relearned a lesson in patience and joy today. My teacher was my little dog, Ping. He is five years old. I got him as a puppy to keep my old dog, Olan company while I commuted to work and was gone ten hours daily.
I had been working from home since the covid shutdown in March 2020. So, when she died, I was still home with Ping daily. Then, in 2022, it was time to return to the office. I go in now two days weekly, or whenever it makes sense for me to be there in person.
For the first time, Ping had to face being home alone; without me and without Olan. It really stressed him out, which in turn, stressed me out. I got him a heated Snuggle puppy with a heartbeat and that helps. He is also very attached to his Abominable Snowman, (Bumble) toy. They get him through the day.
When I work from home, we take a one mile walk every day. When I go to the office, we don’t. Now that it is winter in Minnesota, the weather is not always good for walking. I am afraid of falling, and I don’t really like the wind chills below zero.
Today I bundled up and headed out with Ping for our walk. It was four below zero and there was sand and salt on the path. After a block, he just stopped and held his feet up. They hurt, and he could not go on. I picked him up and headed home, grumbling about the cold, about him being needy, about me being so nice to him, but unappreciated.
With snow and blizzard conditions looming for the next several days, I decided to try again. This time, I put on his jacket and four little boots. Then I re-bundled in my boots, hat, scarf, long coat and mittens and headed out. The whole preparation took 10 minutes before we even started, and I expected him to balk at the boots.
Once outside, my little guy burst into a full out gallop. Ignoring the clunky boots and jacket, he began hopping like a rabbit on the same cold, sandy, chemical laden path he could not handle before. The sun was shining, the wind was cold, I was bundled up like a mummy, and just running with my dog.
We can prepare for difficulties to make them easier to withstand. We can take our time, plan for the worst and then take a chance. And when the unexpected happens, we can embrace the joy and just run with it!
Monday, February 21, 2022 started like any other work day. I have been working from home during the pandemic and at 10:00 a.m., I headed outside with my dog for a walk on my break. The path looked clear, but we had wildly fluctuating temps and precipitation over a few days, and there was an icy patch I did not see. I took a step and landed on my back with my dog looking on in confusion. The pain was immediate and as I rolled to my side to get up, I felt my arm snap. It was only ten degrees outside and I knew I could not lay there, I needed to get up and go home.
I always take my cell phone with me when walking and I was able to get it out. However, my right arm was just swinging. The fingers worked, but I could not lift it to get to the key pad. I walked about a block on the trail, across a bridge, with my now-spooked dog in tow, and got home to my front door. I was unable to unlock the door with just my left arm working and had to make my way to the back entrance. I got in the house and tried again to call for help. I called my husband who did not answer. Then I called my daughter who answered and told her, “I’m hurt, call dad, tell him to come home”. I called my other daughter and asked her to call my boss and let her know what happened. My husband got the message and was home in about twenty minutes.
At the emergency room, I told the nurse, “I think I’m going to pass out”. The pain was intense and made me feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. They gave me a shot of morphine and covered me in a heated blanket which calmed me down immensely. X-rays confirmed a fractured humerus with displacement. https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/humerus-fracture-upper-arm-fracture I was sent home to await scheduling for surgery. I left the ER in the hospital gown they gave me after cutting off my shirt and removing my bra.
The two days waiting for surgery were difficult for me and my husband/caretaker. I took off my jeans and kept on the gown I was given in the ER. Even with the narcotic pain reliever, there was literally no position I could be in that reduced my pain from a nine on the [low 1- to high 10] pain scale. My loved ones moved my recliner upstairs in the bedroom so I could be close to the bathroom, my bed, and the television. The days passed with me moaning and trying to sleep. I never changed out of the gown, and only put on sweat pants to go to surgery two days later.
The Surgery
My expert team including nurses, anesthesiologist, and surgeon corrected my arm within two hours.
The pain was reduced from a 9 to a 7 after surgery. Even with the nerve block, the oxy, and the Tylenol, there was a great deal of pain and discomfort. I could only stay in one position for about an hour and a half before I would need to move again. I spent the first few days in the recliner. The nerve block wore off on day three and hit like a sledgehammer. Once that resolved, the pain lessened and it was more a challenge of getting comfortable to sleep.
The Recovery
I spent the next several days sitting still during the day and then moving around the house all night trying to get comfortable for sleeping; in bed, in the recliner, on the couch, back to bed, the recliner, the couch, etcetera. This is when I realized the need to build a better recliner. Something in between a recliner and and the space chair used by astronauts to prepare for space travel. I would often get in the correct position to relieve arm pain, but then needed to tip to one side so I could sleep without my head lolling one way or another.
The swelling went down after eight days, the bruising disappeared after two weeks. I stopped using the strong pain pills after ten days and began using Tylenol at night to get comfortable for sleeping. After week three, I was able to sleep in bed all night with many pillows and position changes.
My arm is very sore and mostly immobile. I gain more movement each day and with the new movement comes a new ache or pain. I know this will continue for many months as I continue to heal and regain function. I am able to focus on my recovery because I have extended illness pay from my awesome employer. Due to my years of tenure, I am able to take six weeks to recover at full pay. I am so grateful for this time to concentrate on my health and I look forward to getting back to work.
The Take-Aways
One slip on the ice resulted in an injury that will take months to heal.
Total cost of emergency room and surgery $37,000.00.
My insurance will pay most of the expenses.
I have short term disability from my employer that offers six weeks of full pay while I recover.
My out of pocket cost for this accident will impact my budget more than the current gas price or inflation.
Having a safety net of access to great healthcare, insurance, job security, disability pay and a family to support me means I will recover well and without financial distress.
A person earning minimum wage may not fare so well after an accident or illness.
We focus too much in America on the little things that impact a few and turn a blind eye to the big things that affect everyone.
If we cannot agree on universal healthcare for all, we should look for other ways to get care to those who need it.
Instead of focusing on whether or not to mask during a pandemic, we should work on improving healthcare infrastructure for current and future needs.
Experiencing homelessness in Minnesota is especially harsh in our cold winter climate and with all the Covid restrictions and perils.
There are as many reasons for being homeless as there are people experiencing it. I am not a politician or a lawmaker and I don’t have the means to give everyone a home who needs one. But I have compassion and empathy and I want to share some observations.
There are people experiencing homelessness all around us. Some are young, some are old. They may work or they may not. Some are sound of mind and body, some are not. Many experience mental illness and/or addictions that make it hard to get a job, hold a job, make good decisions and assimilate into the mainstream economy.
When it is ten below zero outside, the shelters are full, stores and public places are closed or have restricted hours due to Covid 19, it is not helpful to spout “tough love” narrative. We can help by opening our hearts and really feeling the plight of our fellow humans.
Right in our neighborhoods, there are people without food, without adequate clothing and shelter; with no where to go and no place to belong. Public shelters are not always available and are not very safe, because desperate people in desperate situations will behave badly. Your property might be stolen and when you only own the items you can carry, it is a big loss when they are gone. Losing your boots or gloves may mean you lose a toe or a finger.
People experiencing mental illness want to be independent and have autonomy. Often the illness can cause disruptive behavior that families and others don’t know how to handle. These people need ongoing medical care and oversight. We just don’t do enough in America to help these folks among us.
Minnesota has a large tax surplus this year and my desire is to see some of it spent on affordable or free housing to first get everyone in out of the cold. Next, work on long term treatment plans for those with mental and/or physical health problems. Finally, permanent housing, and employment support for those who can work. This would be more meaningful to me than a refund check for $175.00 as proposed by our governor. When we work together, we can solve big issues; that was the reason for collecting the taxes in the first place.
One thing boomers did not have to deal with were school shootings like the ones that are increasingly common today. I remember practicing for fire drills, and maybe a bomb scare on a sunny day, but the need to prepare for an active shooter was not part of our school curriculum.
I have been working from home due to the Covid 19 pandemic since March of 2020. I can listen to the radio, watch the news on television and check online news sources throughout the day. The news I’m getting is rife with illness, suffering, anger, violence and tragedy. Yesterday, while attending a zoom meeting, I got a notification of an active school shooting in the city where my daughter teaches. I quickly sent off a text asking if she was okay. My heart skipped some beats while I learned the details of the situation. She was okay, her students were okay. But two students were not okay. Two had been shot while standing in front of their school and we have since learned that one of them died.
The suspects in this shooting are kids. Kids with guns. Shooting kids outside of school. No apparent motive, but names were dropped in the news report of another shooter, another shooting victim, a trial judge, and a local activist. Hearing those names brings to mind the recent conflict in the Minneapolis community around the existing systemic racism, resulting in racially motivated mistreatment of people of color by the police. The responses to those events have deepened the divide between those who believe Black Lives Matter and those who are angered by the idea.
But I am not focusing on all of that. I am thinking about kids going to school and teachers doing their best to prepare for class. I am thinking about my daughter heading off to school for the past two years wearing goggles, face mask, face shield and a microphone so the kids can hear her through all the protective gear. I am thinking about the times she has cried in frustration because there aren’t enough resources to teach the kids, keep them fed and give them the tools they need to learn. I am thinking about all the teachers, para professionals, administrators and others who miss lunch and bathroom breaks, and spend all of their free time planning lessons and learning to teach online because they love their students and want to keep them safe and help them succeed.
The students are the ones we love and want to protect. And in the split second it takes to pull a trigger, we are losing them to violence and bad decisions. Often the shooters are young people. When kids have access to such powerful weapons that yield immediate and devastating results, how do we keep them safe? How do we save the innocent victims, and how do we save the ones who pull the trigger? I don’t know. But I do know if we want to get to a solution, we have to keep asking the hard questions and then really listen to what we hear so we are better prepared to take action for change.
Now that I have resolved to revive the blog, I have been looking at other ‘Boomer’ blogs. While I have enjoyed looking at several of them, the experience did not inspire me at all. Rather, I ended my research feeling undereducated, discouraged and inadequate. That’s a lot of feelings for anyone, let alone someone trying to do something new. So, I decided to break it down, one feeling at time to see if there is something to be done.
Undereducated. Clearly I do not know how to produce a professional blog. I don’t have sponsors, or readers, or any cool stuff outside of the life I’m living. I don’t have fun links or fancy videos. (Well, maybe a couple; but not enough to qualify as professional.) But, I do have a BS in Oral Communication Studies from The University of St, Catherine. That’s educated, right? And, I did take a digital media class with Dr. Stacey Patton and that was an epic learning opportunity. https://themillennialboomer.com/2020/08/04/make-room-for-growth/ I am a customer service supervisor of a large team, and believe me, that is an education every day. So I don’t have a professional blog – is that the goal?
Stress busters to help me think
Discouraged. Well, this is not the first time I have encountered discouragement. In this case, it is self imposed. None of those professional bloggers pointed me out to say I am not worthy of blogging. If they had, so what? I can do things that make me happy, right? So, I’m different. Does that mean I should stop doing my thing?
Inadequate. I am not an expert on travel. I am not an expert on beauty tips, or fancy food cooking, or mood disorders, or retirement funding or dating in the golden years, or any specific boomer subject. But is there an actual rule that all boomer bloggers must be experts on old-age things?
I can make great cocktailsYes, I do crochetFake parrot is easier than a hanging plant to water
I am not your typical Boomer blogger. I am a boomer who loves her boomerish ways and interacting with millennials every day. Think, Doogie Howser, and you will be closer to my blog culture; old fashioned tools, old fashioned ideas about what’s cool. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doogie_Howser,_M.D.
As the saying goes; everything is hard until it’s easy, and everything is new until it’s old. So maybe it’s not that I lack the skills needed, maybe it’s that I am at the beginner end of the blogger skill assessment. Every expert was a beginner at one time, right? Any maybe it’s enough to enjoy the process. Maybe there are other boomers out there who just want the comfort of reading the written word without all the bells, whistles, flashing lights, sound bites and testimonials the millennials are so fond of. Or maybe… the millennials can teach this boomer how to join ‘the socials’, 2022 style.
I’ve taken a long hiatus from the blog, because I have struggled with the many changes Covid 19 has brought to the world and to my life. Now, the loss of my dear cat, Harri, has pulled me out of my apathy to tell her story.
I have been feeding a local cat colony for many years. Each spring the mommas have kittens. We catch the kittens and find them homes before the mommas carry them off to the wild. Three years ago, a little orange kitten was caught. We fell in love with him right away. He was a rascally ginger, and we named him Harry after another rascally ginger across the pond. He fit into our family with ease, managing to capture the hearts of my husband and I, along with our other cats and dogs. He became our house cat extraordinaire and chief entertainer.
When Harry was old enough, we took him to the vet for his neutering surgery. They called me before the procedure to inform me that Harry was not a male cat, he was a female. She already loved her name, so we kept it. And that is how Harry became Harri.
For three years Harri snuggled, loved, and entertained us. From the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic quarantine and working from home, she was always in my lap or very close by. She helped me cope with the changes and stresses surrounding the pandemic including the isolation and sometimes boredom of spending my days home alone.
On Christmas Eve 2021, we were excited to have our family over to celebrate as we had missed so many holiday celebrations in 2020. In the excitement and activity of fifteen guests and dinner on the stove, somehow Harri went missing. Our cats are fed by our back door and they often hang out there at mealtime. We think an unsuspecting guest opened the door for a breath of fresh air and she slipped out.
I was not aware that Harri was missing until late in the day and looking back to the last time we had seen her, six or seven hours had gone by. It is very bad for a housecat with no outdoor skills and no acclimation to the weather to be out on a winter day in Minnesota. We looked for her and called but there was no trace of her. The next days were cold, windy, snowy, and below zero. It is hard to imagine she could survive. Nonetheless, I posted her missing information on all the local sites I could think of.
It is now thirty days later and Harri has not been found. I miss her greatly each day. And I have learned, again, that I am not in control. Some things just happen because we don’t expect or prepare for them. Cats will run out the door without considering the consequences. A hostess in the middle of a gathering does not have the cat whereabouts on the top of mind. Cats are animals, and Harri did have a full belly, long fur coat and claws intact when she slipped outside. There is a chance she found a warm place to hunker down or perhaps a kindly person took her in.
People have reacted to my search for Harri with compassion and kindness that I have not experienced in a long time. Folks who might disagree on politics and public health policy are uniting with me to search for Harri. So many are praying for her safe return to me and looking for her with me. There have been four false alarms. Either the cat was spotted and not captured, or the captured cat was a male and not Harri.
I know there is much suffering in the world and many human tragedies that put a missing cat into a different perspective. I don’t know if Harri will ever come home. I hope she does as I truly miss her companionship. If she doesn’t, I will be sad and regretful that I was not more attentive to her on that day. I will also remember how my loss inspired many covid weary and politically suspicious people to put aside their differences and personal hardships to help a heartbroken woman search for her beloved pet. This is humanity.
I often say that I love indoor and outdoor gardening. I have come to fully realize that is a bit of a stretch. I love indoor gardening. I love to buy cute pots and exotic plants. I will water and fertilize and give them light until they bloom or bear fruit. I will propagate cuttings, repot and transplant all manner of indoor plants. My enthusiasm has no bounds and you can find lovely bits of nature in every room of my home.
Indoor greenery makes me happy.
And then there is the outdoor gardening. I love planning the gardens. I love buying the plants and flowers for the gardens. I love the little decorative things. I love the birdhouses and birdbaths and birdfeeders. I love the trellises and hanging planters. I love the raised vegetable gardens and patio pots filled with herbs.
And then it rains, and everything grows and then come the WEEDS. They typically arrive just before a holiday and when company is coming. The first WEED BONANZA is just before Memorial Day. I want the spring gardens to look good, so I need to clear the brown stuff from last fall and the straw cover from winter. It takes time and effort and sometimes it is cold and rainy. I don’t love this.
Spring flowers.
The second WEED EXTRAVAGANZA typically arrives just as it gets over 90 degrees and the humidity is 80%; just before the 4th of July as the corn is knee high. The bugs are hungry and every thing in the garden scratches bare legs and arms as you try to manage the heat. You have to carefully navigate around blossoms yet to open so you don’t break off the lilies you have been waiting for all year. I don’t love this.
Summer blooms.
The final WEED COMPETITION comes as the winds of fall arrive to mark Labor Day. This will be a sad and tired kind of a battle. Harvest is over. You still have a month or more of color before the snow flies. But, you have to pull THE WEEDS. I don’t love this.
Last harvest of the season.
Did I mention mowing the lawn and trimming the bushes and picking the beans, and dead heading the petunias and watering everything? I don’t love this.
And yet, I love the flowers and the pretty colors. So, I guess I love indoor gardening and I DO outdoor gardening so I can love the gardens.
