Rainbows of various sorts in a week of huge expense (and no small amount of fear). Sales (and shares) desperately needed now.

Photo copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved.

It's been a strange and difficult day.

We had to deal with some bureaucracy today: First off, we were slated to go into the bank and deal with the paperwork related to the scam artists who hacked our old debit card near the end of the year. Ourt bank clawed it back, and these thieving frauds actually had the unmitigated gall to contest it. Purchases that never existed, from a company that doesn't exist, and they're so damn greedy they're trying to fight it. NOPE. 

The second thing was the post office. Well, more than one of them. A delivery got rerouted to the Seco P.O. despite — oh, never mind; they effed it up. Again. So we had to go up and get it, and more about that experience later. But then we had to go to our P.O. and deal with a bigger problem, a stolen shipment. That's a lovely mess, too.

But back to the other P.O. When we got out of the truck, we smelled gas. I went in while Wings checked it; there was leakage under the hood. I watched while he started it up, and gas came pouring out of the carburetor all over everything. It's not that old (the carb). Philip's coming over tomorrow to look at it, and I have no idea what that's going to set us back. After Shade yesterday? And more medical stuff for me in the pipeline? I thought we'd be okay this year, but every step forward gets shoved back another two, or ten, or twenty. To say I'm disheartened right now is an understatement. Then again, I had virtually no sleep last night, so I'm at a low ebb anyway.

Part of that was physical pain. It's constant. It always has been, but now I have new, big, far scarier constant pains. I also spent some time talking to a good friend with a medical background, who is frankly appalled that I have no answers yet. The terminology she used had two effects: First, it let me know that I'm not crazy and that it's not a deficiency in my coping skills. Second, it scared the living hell out of me. She's going with me to my next appointment as an advocate to push for imaging in a way that I can't. It's hard to hear that someone's as afraid for you as you've been afraid for yourself, when you've been handling it by telling yourself it's probably no big deal and you'll be fine over time. I am, quite frankly, terrified now in a way I haven't been for a while. 

Even so, there were some bright spots. The snow, for one, even though it's basically gone now. And while I was at our P.O. dealing with the postmaster over the stolen shipment, that little item up there padded into my life. We were going over forms, and I heard a voice behind me, someone wanting to break into the conversation, and I thought it 3was someone who wanted to ask the postmaster a quick question. I turned around, and there was a middle-aged woman who I've never seen before, holding a little crocheted rainbow Christmas stocking out. (She has some developmental challenges.) She said, "Here, this is for you"; I thought she was handing it to the postmaster. No. She was handing it to me. She said, "I made this for you. I made it at Christmas just for you." And she held it out to me.

And I about burst into tears. The postmaster introduced me to the woman by name, I accepted it, I thanked her profusely and she went on her way, and I blinked back tears and went back to my claim forms.

When we got home, there was another bit of rainbow: a sun dog up in the sky, with the hawk circling overhead near it. I went in and came right back out with my camera, but both had vanished. Just a momentary gift of the spirits.

In a little while, I have to bundle back and go out and put cedar and tobacco on Cree's grave. It's been a year already. And that will about exhaust my emotional reserves for the night (they're already at a vanishingly low ebb anyway), so the rest is cut-and-paste. 

All of this means that we still need sales, which means we need shares. Badly. Again, if you're thinking about donating, DON'T. Give it to Bobby to help get Don Feliberto back into a real home. Here's the latest update. We know what it's like not to have one; we have one now, and donations need to go there to get this elder safe again. I posted a second piece at my other site a couple of nights ago about Bobby's efforts in Puerto Rico, including his adoption of Don Feliberto to get this abandoned elder into safe space again. That will tell you what he's up against, and my e-mail's in my Blogger profile here (or you can DM at Twitter/FB); hit me up for his addresses if you want to contribute, either cash (most needed) or household and other items, some of which you can purchase outright via the Amazon Wishlist Bobby's set up here. He's added a bunch of new items, all badly needed, and I can testify to the fact that need for the power cords, the tools, and the solar lights and equipment is probably exigent at this point. That said, when you're in a situation like Don Feliberto is, it's amazing how wonderful clean clothes and good coffee can make you feel, too.

What we need are SALES. Please. Spread the word. I know it's now too late to ship in time for Valentine's Day, but people have birthdays, anniversaries, I-love-you days; there'll be other holidays and seasons coming up before you know it. Please spread all of our links around on FB and Twitter and other social media, via e-mail and word-of-mouth, to your family and friends and colleagues and whoever. The O2 issue is now solved, but there are all the ongoing regular expenses, the astronomical medical expenses, and of course, someday we'd like to be able to get the house finished. I have no hope of that happening anytime soon; I don't know how we're going to get through the rest of this winter, given current circumstances. So here are the links: 

• Tonight's post elsewhere (I think I know who it's for, and no, it's neither of us);
• A way to buy me coffee (which actually goes to She-Wolf's & my medical bills);
• Wings's direct PayPal link;
• Wings's site, for sales;
• Wayfair gift cards, to replenish all the furnishings that the RV has destroyed in one way or another.
• Partial registry #1, from Bed, Bath and Beyond. There are new kitchen-y things on it now, stuff that I didn't realize we'd need to replace (either because the RV ruined it or because we gave it away when we had to downsize).
• Partial registry #2, from Wayfair. There are some things left on both registries that I thought by now I might be able just to buy outright, but medical bills (mine and She-Wolf's both) have to come first.

I had planned to some new stuff to launch at my new site today (or, rather, long before today), but between lack of money and technical issues, that's still on hold. This business of ignoring my symptoms and my pain  and discomfort does seem to be helping my brain and body both find some sort of accommodation with this oh-my-god-you're-going-to-die thing that keeps happening, which is to say, every time it crops up, I smack it ruthlessly back down and force myself to sit and breathe through it. I dunno how long this will keep working, but I'm going to bulldoze my way through it as much as possible, DX or no. In light of new info, though, I can't keep that up. We need, also, to get free of some of this crushing stress, and I don't see that happening as long as I have to spend every day scrabbling (mostly unsuccessfully) for whatever sales we can make. Closure's imminent, and I see no way to get through it now. In spite of it all, though, thanks, everybody, from both of us, for everything. 



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.