Right now it is 72º F. That should be ideal. And yet I was overheated. I suppose it was from doing chores. So I filled the bathtub with cool water. I checked the temperature - 67º F. Ahhh... Goodness that was refreshing. After my bath my blood pressure was 112/72, which is better than it sometimes is. Did the cold bath reduce blood pressure? Maybe. It seemed to make some of the aches calm down too. Now I'm all clean and shiny to go to sleep.
I may be the only person this happens to. I noticed about three years ago that Mrs. Billingsley had started going off the rails when she ate carbs. So I asked her to go on the ketogenic diet with me, and she improved about 80%. She still had senior moments, but nothing disturbing.
I decided to buy a few candy bars to celebrate Easter. I wish I had just done something like buy a bottle of wine. Anyway, it wasn't much candy and I thought once in a while would be alright. Wrong.
I'm getting weirded out. She's been senior momenting all day. She says she's going to Mrs. Nestlewood's bookstore in Los Angelos and help her stock shelves. ?? "You've never been to Los Angelos!" I said. She said she went there with her father. She mentioned that Mrs. Nestlewood is Russian, she thought. "I'll search for her on the internet," I said. There are several Nestlewoods on Google. There is a Nestlewood Toys that is a Ukrainian family company. OK. Maybe Mrs. Billingsley went to visit Mrs. Nestlewood's bookstore one day in Los Angelos.
I had started giving her exogenous ketones a few days ago to help fuel her brain better. What was I thinking when I gave her candy?
Nestlewood Birds
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light, —
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”
Then he said, “Good night!” and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.
Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street,
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.
Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade, —
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.
Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel’s tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, “All is well!”
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay, —
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats.
Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle-girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry-tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry’s height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns!
A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet:
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.
It was twelve by the village clock,
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer’s dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.
It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, blank and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.
It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket-ball.
You know the rest. In the books you have read,
How the British Regulars fired and fled, —
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.
So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm, —
A cry of defiance and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo forevermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.
From The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsw
There's only so much I can take from oak trees. They've been going crazy. I've had "the sickness." The pollen has caused terrible rashes. Then for some reason my blood pressure began to go up to very high levels. Why? Pollen allergy. This has gone on for about a week. Also, breathing problems, sinus problems, eyes watering. I had all sorts of plans for today. I just wasn't well enough to accomplish them. I needed to take out the trash and pick up the mail. How hard is that? I needed to do laundry, and wash dishes. I managed to finally take out the trash and check the mail. All junk mail. I wouldn't have bothered to pick up the mail feeling like this, but Roxie would explode when she comes by tomorrow and sees that the no good Helene refused to pick up her mail. She'll come down and start beating on the door. Then call the sheriff and get deputies over here to kick in the door. It's Roxie going postal. I've actually become afraid of Roxie. Yesterday David told me he had a little calf missing. I went outside to look for it but couldn't find it. I did find pollen. Suddenly I fell over, being wobbly from breathing all the pollen. I completely collapsed and arrived on the ground with a thud. However, no injuries, except scraped elbows and a sprained wrist and shoulder. I've heard of my friends falling like that and breaking an arm. So it was nice to know I'm hardy enough for a fall. This was another reason I didn't want to check the mail. I might fall again. I might wind up in the ditch. Then what?
Back off oak trees.
What is wrong with me?? I'm covered in rashes. I've had to take steroids. I use creams but still have rashes. They hurt. My whole body has swollen up.
I think it's because of oak pollen. Oak pollen is tricky. Besides just causing a reaction to the pollen, it often causes one to react to all sorts of other things, like foods. I went to KFC and bought chicken. This caused a severe reaction, which usually doesn't happen. Today I ate a potato. I was actually afraid of that potato. But I was hungry. Now I'm hitting the ceiling. I'm going to have to go on a fast I'm afraid. Then maybe tiptoe back with cucumbers or something. I know what I'll do. I'll go on a sardine fast. Maybe that will fix it. It also helps to take a bath, wash my hair and change into fresh clothes with no pollen on them. Then stay indoors with the windows closed.
The oak and pine and cedar are supposed to be finished pollenating in May. Mom once offered to remove all the trees on the property so I wouldn't have to deal with the pollen, but that wouldn't work. It would blow in from the next county if it had to. I truly truly don't like spring. I suppose the last week of May and the month of June is OK. The start of March on to the middle of May I don't like. It's just one horror after another.
Long ago, when I don't fully remember, I had a bad idea. I would pay for trash collection in advance. Why? So there wouldn't be the panic in the middle of the month about paying the bill before they quit collecting the trash. What could go wrong?
Trash collection day came and went yesterday, but no one came for the trash. I began to weep and looked at my checkbook to see if they were ever paid. That's where things got tricky.
Last year sometime I had paid them $200. That wasn't a gift. It had been paid around Christmas, so maybe it was mistaken as a gift. However, in the little box for the date, or whatever you might like to write, were the numbers "6/11." ????? Had I meant 11/6? Underneath the name of the recipient was the note to self, "paid up till June 2025."
So it was all very mysterious. I called the company and explained to the answering machine that I had paid in advance with a check for $200.. The rest of the details were sketchy. But yesterday evening the trash had not been collected. And no one called back. Oh me.
I fell asleep and tossed and turned. I had nightmares about putting the trash bags in the car trunk and driving to the landfill - forever. I woke in a cold sweat.
What in thunderation was I going to do? Pay twice?
I went back out to the trash bin this morning. The trash had been collected!!!!!
Disney remade the 1937 classic Snow White into a movie recently. Attempts were made to fix the narrative of the original, which I think was seen to be politically incorrect in this day and age. The original Snow White animation was the creation that catapulted Disney to Hollywood greatness, and has been an unparalleled classic success.
The remake of Snow White has been made with curious changes in the story. First and foremost, Snow White's role is played by Rachel Zegler, a brown Latina. When I first saw this, I puzzled over it, and asked the question on Youtube, "Why is Snow White not white?" This question brought an irate response by someone saying that the real question I should be asking is why Jesus has been so often portrayed as being a European looking person. Just asking the question appeared to be a racist comment. OK. White bad brown good. However, this presented the problem that the name of the character is Snow White, who was called that in the original movie, and in the fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm, because of having "skin as white as snow." The name was explained away in the new movie as Snow White being involved in a blizzard, or maybe being a snowflake.
There was a cry from a community whose name was part of the original fairy tale, "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves." "Don't call us dwarves!" was the point of contention. What to do? The controversy was solved by creating computer generated images of quasi dwarf looking people to fill that role. However, then the little people were given no roles in the movie, which would have been perfect for them. Issue 2 was therefore also botched.
There were other trouble spots, one being the notion that the heroine was originally rescued by a handsome prince. What!? That didn't play well for the feminist agenda. The handsome prince was morphed into an escaped criminal with a band of prison fellow escapees that he was the leader of. The escaped criminal was a white man, which worked for everyone. The band of seven criminals was from a variety of ethnic groups. I suppose making any further observations about them would be racist. So, tiptoeing around any further description, the hero is in the process of robbing a grocery store. I think the object was to rob from the rich grocery store and give to the poor, less fortunate people in the realm of the fairy tale.
And so, the original Snow White was pretty much gutted. The star of the remake, Rachel Zegler, was in a press release in which she described fixing the 1937 version, disparaging the 1937 Snow White classic, which had put Disney on the Hollywood map. The Disney studio was disturbed about this, since the 1937 Snow White classic is their crowning jewel. She described the axing of the handsome prince motif, and numerous other improvements. The song, "Some Day My Prince Will Come," was removed. She alienated many by stating that neither Donald Trump or any of his supporters were welcome to see her movie. "I don't need your money," she told half the country.
Surprisingly, the new Snow White was a box office flop around the world with revenues falling catastrophically short of the astronomical sums spent making the film. Rachel Zegler was blacklisted from Disney and the movie was removed from theaters.
And they all lived happily ever after.
I didn't go anywhere for a few days. Not that many. Four or five. Today I planned to go to the beauty shop, and I tried to crank up the car. Nothing!!
I have the solution for these moments. I opened the hood and connected the battery to the battery charger. Soon all was well again. But not soon enough. I missed my appointment at the beauty shop.
Today was beauty shop day. It's amazing the way the beauty shop causes ladies to chatter. I suppose it's the way so many ladies...
