Sunday Stroke Survival: First Canning Session in the New Place

 I had my first order delivered from Walmart Marketplace this week. It's a perk that being back in the big city that I'm finding rather enjoyable. Except several out of stock items were missing and a substitution was made leading to the canning session. My granddaughter is really into Japanese cooking and wanted to learn how to make Pork Tonkatsu so I ordered a whole boneless pork loin. I'd teach her how to break down the loin to make the chops since she thought it would be a good skill set to learn. Well between the time I placed the order and their shopper went to get it, they ran out. GRRR! No Pork Tonkatsu lesson for her. this month 

The other GRRR! moment was had was when they substituted 10lbs of regular green cabbage for Napa Cabbage. I had my heart set on fermenting some kimchee. They are NOT the same thing! What was I to do with 10lbs of green cabbage?! I could have sent it back and got a refund but that would mean waiting until my daughter to get home from work and going to the store. I guess I could have just canned the cabbage plain into jars (yuck! water logged cabbage), but I ran across a YouTube channel that showed how to can coleslaw in a vinegar base pickling it. It is the heyday of summer right now. Quick coleslaw would be excellent. I always say life is about adapting, don't I?

Well, you know my love of YouTube since my stroke. I had never thought to do that before, but there was the recipe from a 1966 Ball Recipe Canning book.  A quick check with other current safe canning websites and with a tweak or two brought the recipe up to today's preserving safe canning standards and you know me I had to adjust the flavor profile a bit to suit us.

The fact that my son-in-law finally got my window air conditioner unit installed this week, God love him, was an added perk for me. It was a warm (90s), humid week in Savannah without it. I'd forgotten how uncomfortable summers could be here after six years away. Plus, being in the city with all the roadways absorbing and releasing the heat of the day. It wasn't cooler at night. Canning in my mother-in-law apartment would have been unbearable without it.

I set about shredding the cabbage. Thank God for my mandolin! Still, quite a bit of chopping was done with my old cleaver. I had four huge heads of cabbages. My cleaver has seen quite a few dozen years service and can still be sharpened to a razor's edge. It makes short work of vegetables and meat alike. I could have just used this to shred all the cabbage but I tend to vary my thicknesses with each slice. Consistency is the key when canning so my mandolin was used. Luckily, they (Walmart) had my order of onions, carrots, vinegars, and spices too. So I set to work. It took me the better part of two and a half days to cut all that cabbage. I ended up with 44 cups of shredded cabbage! I put a couple of large Vidalia onions and a pound of carrots through the mandolin as well. 

I divided all the vegetables between five mounded 7 qt. hospital basins courtesy of my stays at Emory and the NEGRMC, I has prepared the pickling solution while I salted the vegetables. I ended up making five times the recipe for the liquid to have enough. I packed it all into the jars and water bath canned it. I ended up with four dozen pint jars of coleslaw! I think that's a year's worth of fish fries and BBQs, don't you? Now all that is left is to make the pulled pork soft tacos for dinner and clean up. Good thing too 'cause I'm pooped!

An update on Lilbit and her transition to the new place. It took the better part of two weeks for her to acclimate herself to the new home. Now, she's walking around with confidence and her tail is high, She's slowly getting used to seeing through the pet gate across the door leading to the main house. It's a bit disconcerting to her knowing the dog can see through the gate and whines at her. She'll walk over to the gate and touch noses with him to check that he's okay before she continues on her way. 

She thinks it's a grand game when he comes in searching for her, but she's on the back of the recliner watching him go round and round. He never looks up. The only time he barks at her is in frustration like if she's under the bed and he can't get to her. He's too big to fit under there. She gets so lonesome at times. She'd found the spot with the best acoustics, in the small bathroom hallway, to yowl to get my attention no matter where I am in the house. Sometimes she'll just walk up to meowing. She's back into Mommy mode, where Momma has to be in line of site to her every couple of minutes or she'll have to come find me, this now includes the big house. She enjoys exploring it when the dog is in his cage in the mornings. She's three steps behind me unless she smells something interesting. When she loses me, she'll call out. I'll answer her back until she finds me again.

The landscaper friend of my son-in-law came over and cleared out the beds and area where the garden will go. It looks great. Now I see and plan where things are going to grow better. I'll be able to now widen the garden to 40' instead of 30' and still have a 4' border around it.  That will give me three more 50' rows to plant  now corn can be added into the growing plan for next spring. There's a 4' wide growing bed. that's now empty except for a kumquat tree/bush. I can't decide whether to whether to espalier fruit trees along the fence or plant blackberries, raspberries, or blueberries there. I've got until the fall to decide because that neighbor will be replacing the wood fence this summer. What I'll be able to get done will depend on when the kids find another house to buy. I figure with the housing market opening up again, it'll at least take about six months or so. Until then, it's produce what I can and preserve what I harvest. Now to arrange for delivery of that tree service "waste" to set up the garden. I'll still do the market garden setup for optimizing the space I have. Even without selling the produce it still makes sense and cents.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Settling Into My New Place

 My mother-in-law apartment is huge! Sleeping in my old bed wasn't bad as I thought it would be. It took some adjusting though. I mention to daughter #3 on the phone, the night before I moved in, that it was difficult to get out of so she raised the whole bed on blocks and added another box spring to the mix. Well standing beside the bed the top of the mattress came to my waist! She meant well. Her husband, as tired as he was, lifted the bed and while she knocked the blocks off the  legs. That made the bed better. It only took a little hop to get on the bed. He ended up removing the extra box spring too undoing all of daughter #3's "helpfulness." The new box spring and mattress was higher than my own. So it's a bit higher than my old set. Still lower than ideal but I can live with it.

All my things are about me and fit the space perfectly. I do have to get some shelving units for the canning stuff. I still haven't decided which spare room I'll make into the larder. but for now it's all stacked neatly into one corner of my dining room. Actually, I could convert that whole corner into a larder. There's several empty boo shelves in here that could easily work to that end. I could fashion curtains to block the light.

I've even found a gardening spot for vegetables and space for the herbs that I brought with me! The whole back of the property is   overgrown badly. The herbs that I brought with me will be planted in the flower beds along the front walk. There's a 30'x50' (that's 10- 50' rows) on my side of the side yard that will be perfect for vegetables, I'll implement the Ruth Stout method and just cover the area with cardboard and thick layers of hay all that gras wi;; become a compost to feed the vegetables. It might be late in the season for planting, but hey this is Savannah, you can garden ten months out of a year here. It won't get cold here until December or January. But, I've had it trying to second guess Mother Nature. I can remember dressing my ids in tank tops and shorts on Christmas Eve. I still may get some home grown goodness yet. There's a double gate by the trash can so unloading it all will be a breeze.

I'll have to talk to daughter #3's husband first because he'll have to do all the heavy lifting of the compost bags and hay bales. I can spread it all out myself. I do not have a garden cart here, I'm going to miss it.  I'll need more cardboard boxes too. So many little things are needed, but that's my one handed life. The beautiful parts of using the side yard is it out my door and hang a right, and then there it is. It's a short walk to the outside shed too. What's in there is a mystery but I do know the grandmother was an avid gardener.

She'd be so angry about the way the landscaping has not been kept up, but at 92, it might not matter to her now. I'll have to price a landscaper to see about all the over grown hedges and stuff. There's no way daughter #3's husband or my daughter can do it all with their work schedules. They aren't really green thumb type folks. I sure can't. There's a ton of knee high pine trees and brambles out there.

I spoke to the son-in-law, and his plan was to demolish the back swimming pool and deck area during the summer months. He also sees the need of producing our own food. He has been a city dweller all his life so he'll need some guidance. There is plenty of roof line for water harvesting for the garden beds. Currently it's all running into the sewer. What a waste! Even if we have to move from this property, the "improvements can move with them onto the new property.

He mentioned leaving the Oleander in place as a privacy screen, I said cut it down. Oleander, while beautiful, is poisonous to humans and critters. We could plant blueberry bushes along the back fence instead. We'd have the privacy restored and enjoy the berries for years to come. And come to find out, his grandmother planted an herb garden. It's very badly neglected. But, I was able to salvage a few od the herbs.

I found a tree company that will deliver wood chips by the dump truck load for free! So starting a compost pile and garden beds will be cheaper. Now if I can the county composting site, I'll be in hog heaven and my gardens building will be complete minus some minerals. Now, if I can just get my fifteen year old granddaughter excited about the prospects of gardening...I don't believe that will happen though. Although, she admitted a desire to learn alternative uses of herbs and preserving the harvest. So that's a start. 

I've cooked two meals this week. The leftover meats from the shoulder pork roast will become shredded. BBQ sandwiches later in the month. The leftover beef pot roast will become roast beef hash to serve over rive. I'm still having to adjust serving size because now I'm cooking for 4 instead of 2. I founds our old dump cart that I had loaded with jars had made the trip to Savannah with me. It will eventually have to be returned to Mel. But in the meantime, it will help me set up this garden.

I found out from my podiatrist. two days before I left the mountains that I have three more stress fractures in my AFO clad foot. So I'm back to swapping out AFOs and shoes again. The swelling in the foot becomes too bad for me to wear my shoe very long or stand more than a dew hours at a time without elevating it and getting off it. SIGH! There's nothing wrong with the AFO. It's my bones that are the problem. They just aren't back to normal yet. All the chemo and radiation has done a number on my bone density. Even with a 1200 mg calcium plus D3 taken daily and the Vitamin D3 (50,000 unit capsules) taken weekly, it will take months to recover normal density back. In the meantime, small bones like in my feet will break. Right now, my bone density loos like the bottom right in my smaller bones and right upper in my major bones which is why I'm getting the stress fractures, but I gotta walk. God is still working on my patience issues. SIGH!

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Picking Figs and Cherries

This week I've had a song stuck in my head as I harvested the cherries and figs. Can anyone guess that song?

It's just one of those jingles from my childhood television watching. But as I picked the cherries and figs, it went round and round my head. Each time I picked one and dropped it in my five gallon bucket it made a plopping sound, and after a while, the juices made a slight fizzing sound.  

Mel thought I was crazy when I chopped the main trunks of these trees at four foot tall as they grew, but there was a rhyme to my reasoning.  I knew that when we would eventually espalier the trees or let them be, they'd be easy to harvest. The heavy fruit covered branches would almost sweep the ground. With careful pruning each winter, the new growth, where the fruit would grow, could be simple to harvest. "Ah! What a relief it is!"

Granted these trees were only planted three years ago so the harvests are small. I really didn't expect anything more than a couple jars of jam and some fresh eating until year five. Just like with the peaches, these trees flowered up beautifully in the spring. The bees were happy. They are still buzzing around the late bloomers. And just like the peaches, the fruits are about half the size they should be. It's been a crazy weather year for us with the winter chill and frosts not leaving us until mid June. Now, I've picked a five gallon bucket of each fruit this week! We are blessed!

By planning, I adjusted the height of these fruit trees around my limitations. Knowing my vertigo issues helped me do this planning. In caring (pruning/fertilizing) for these trees everything is no higher than my height. The same goes for harvesting. We will probably spend most of this winter espalier these trees. AKA, digging post holes and running wire to twist and tie the branches to before spring. I'd planned for posts every six feet and four strands of wire like we did four our raspberries, blackberries, and grapes. 

Yes, the end yield of harvestable fruit is reduced, but in actuality one tree would yield enough for us for several years in one regular tree left to it own devices. But I'll be able to harvest each fruit as it becomes ripe with no loss of unreachable fruits. By planting two of each kind of fruit provides better than average pollination (even with self fertile trees) and a better harvest. When insects or diseases strike at a tree, it will be much easier to handle too. If netting is needed to prevent birds from taking more than their fair share of fruit, It's much easier to throw netting over a 5' tree than a 20' tree even without disabilities. 

An expected bountiful harvest two years ahead of schedule was a welcome blessing with the cherries and fig trees producing this year. It may not be a fabulous harvest that it will be in a few years, but for us we are thankful. I'll end up with two more 5-gallon buckets full at least before I call an end to the harvest for putting the fruits by, but there will be several more weeks of fresh eating before the season is done.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Prepping the Harvest for Long Term Storage

I've posted about our homestead garden, gardening, and adaptive gardening quite a bit. I've even talked about preserving the harvest by canning, freezing, and dehydrating.  Today, I want to discuss how I prepare the harvest to do all of that living post stroke.

Picking the harvest is the easy part. Last week I harvested four pounds of oregano from my plants. That's a whole lot of oregano destined to be dehydrated. I lay each stem of the rinsed herb on a window screen. Add another window screen on top. I have raised them away from animals by placing the screens on top of four inverted trash cans. I'll let them dry out in the yard for a day or two. I mean I had four pounds. It was way too much for my two electric dehydrators. When one screen was full I grabbed another one and continued until all the oregano was accounted for. I criss- crossed the placement of the screens so there was good ventilation for the herbs. Now, I placed the herb stem and all on the screen. It took eight screens in all for four full screens of oregano.

Once dry, the real fun began. I had to remove the stems. I tend to leave my leaves whole and chop or grind them as needed. I sat at the breakfast room table with the table covered in parchment paper. I placed the thick end of the oregano stem between my teeth and pulled the leaves against their grain to remove them. After doing a few stems, I'd stop and gather the leaves and put them in several containers in succession. It took me the better part of the day to do this. Before I give the oregano a final "haircut" before the first freeze, I'll be doing this several times. This year I expect a six-eight pound harvest of oregano. Not to mention basil, sage, peppermint, spearmint, chamomile, tarragon, dill, thyme, rosemary, and thyme. For smaller batches, I can dehydrate them in my dehydrators.

Now, I've started harvesting my English peas. There is nothing better on hot afternoons than sitting on the porch swing shelling peas and beans, and watching the gardens grow. But, shelling peas one-handed took some thought on how to do it.

Luckily, Mother Nature put a zipper in them. I picked loose a string at the vine end of the pea pod. I picked it loose enough to be able to pinch it between my index finger and thumb to pull it. Holding it against the bowl with my little finger I pulled the string down as far as my reach would allow and reposition my little finger and continue until the "string" came loose off the end of the pea pod. Using my thumb, I ran down the inside of the pod dislodging the peas. I got quicker as time went on and the three pounds of peas I picked were done. They'll probably be another three pound harvest tomorrow again and again until the peas are done in about three weeks.

But that's not all that's being harvested. I've got to cut the kale, spinach, and lettuces before they bolt with

the heat. Carrots and potatoes will have to be dug up. I've got a discarded kiddie pool for washing the greens the first time outdoors before carrying them to the processing table. They'll get washed twice more at least to remove all the dirt from them.

For the carrots and potatoes, remember that glass washer I found at Goodwill way back when for $2? It works wonderfully for scrubbing long, rounded vegetables one-handed. It works great for my cucumbers, zucchini, yellow squash, peppers, and Japanese eggplants too. Thinking outside the box makes work smarter not harder. A mandolin and my Vidala Onion slap chopper always gets a huge workout at harvest time. They save so much time processing vegetables for the freezer or canner.

In the next couple weeks as the peas die out, they'll be green beans. I'm hoping for 120 lbs of them. I just pulled the last two jars of green beans out of the long term storage building canned two years ago. So I'm looking forward to these. The idea of going to the grocery store and buying green beans makes me cringe. By succession planting these over the course of the spring and summer, I should have plenty. I don't mind processing these at all. Snap the stem ends and snap them into pieces. I use my first three fingers to snap them. Of course, I could bring them inside to cut them too. But I miss my free ranging chicken TV viewing. They are much more fun to watch than regular television and n curse words needed.

There you go. That's my one-handed preparing vegetables for canning and freezing. Yes, it would be easier and faster with two hands, but I adapt to what I got. And, I get 'er done.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Dealing with Change

I've spent several blogs talking about adjusting to change recently. This is yet another one. I'm not sure why. Maybe, because I'm facing new changes (or soon will be) in my life again. This one by choice for my quality of life.

Has your world changed forever with one event? Living post stroke is like that (enter whatever life changing event that you are facing here).

Everyone resists change. Nobody likes change of their status quo. These are facts of life and yet we have to change. It's part of the cycle of life. We don't grow without change. We don't achieve anything without it. It's an upheaval of the norm and the norm equals comfort.

Some changes are good like getting an education, graduating, getting married, having children, getting your dream job, and other momentous occasions. Doors are opening to a new, exciting life. Other changes like divorce, deaths, losing your livelihood, or serious illness aren't so exciting of a prospect. Doors are closing and you have no choice but to adapt and change. The old ways are gone and you have to travel in a new unfamiliar path. These are the changes no one likes.

Let's face it. These types of changes are scary. The path is dark, gloomy, and there is no discernible light at the end of the tunnel. Having a stroke, dealing with the death of a loved one, or losing one's livelihood is like that. I know because I've experienced all of these in the past decade. Having a plan in place helps, but within these plans there are a microcosm of changes that happen, or things don't go as planned. Uncertainty, rattles you to the core. It's a very uncomfortable situation to be in.

"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new."
  ~ Socrates

So when I was facing a life of living post stroke, it took a short while to accept that this is what it is. I divided my time evenly between regain use through recovery and trying to do with disabilities or limitations. I strongly dislike would of/should of/ could of scenarios. I like a set of actions and variables if this/then that or that because rarely does anything go as planned, but after a stroke all bets are off. I've rebuilt my life on my new reality several times in my life. It's never fun. It's been a "Well I can't do that anymore. What do I want to be when I grow up this time?" It's my sort of fall back and punt position when life changes for me.

A short story to illustrate my point. I often feel like the poor rat in this story, but I don't die. I'm left with having to make changes to my reality.

Last evening, there was a small rat was caught by the nonpoisonous snake living under our washer the washer and dryer. He probably crawled in there a lot smaller and grew up. Now he's basically trapped under there unless we move everything and let him out. He's had a steady diet of wayward rats for over a year now. He's quite content living this way. He stays warm and fairly well fed between the rats in the disused furnace and the water heater closet.

But this night was different. The rat got away. He ran from the snake squeaking loud which alerted Herbie, the dog, our small rodent catcher. The rat raced from under the dryer straight into Herbie's jaws. A quick couple of chomps and the rat was dead.

Are you too deep in your situation that you go from bad to worse like this poor rat? For a few days after my stroke I was. It was just shell shock. I clawed my way out of it and started planning my life from here on out. I realized there would be major changes that had to be made. In a way, a certain loss of identity needed to be compensated for. But the areas that I cared strongly for was still in tact. I was still the loving wife of a dying spouse. I was still a mother to my grown children even though for a short time (6 months) I was dependent on them while I got my bearing in my new life. I was still the loving Grandma! That didn't change even though my hugs were one sided. They were just as full of love. Even though my aphasia wouldn't let me say the words, I could still listen to them. None of that changed with my stroke and I was fine. Everything else required work to regain it or change in directions.

An example. Spinning fiber into yarn and using the yarn to make various things has been a winter pastime for me for decades. I wanted it back. I spent many a frustrating hour attempting to do it one-handed. Eventually, two years later, I regained the ability. Some old way things are worth the effort. It's not easy as doing it two-handed and a lot slower and deliberate. It's not the mindless, relaxing activity as the old ways. Now, I have to have the right mind set, plan my actions, and focus to spin. But then, I realize I'm just going through the stages as I did when I first learned to spin. I'm hoping one day that spinning one-handed will be relaxing and mindless activity again. Until then, I'm content. A lot can be said for contentment when dealing with change.

In cooking, another love to do activity, I can pretty much do what I did before with the help of gadgets. It still irks me a bit to have to depend on them, but I'm getting the job done. After six years of fumbling attempts, I can do the basics now without conscious thought. I still can't frost a cake or do the intricate detail work as I once did, but when dealing with life altering changes beggars can't be choosers. I still prepare two meals a day here every day. I even can and preserve our food for a year.

This is my new T-shirt. Like it?

Life is never stagnant. It is constantly evolving whether we like it or not. It's time to put on our big girl panties and deal with it.

What was the old way becomes the new way until it becomes old again.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Adapting Using YouTube

As I've said, I've become a YouTube junkie since my strokes. Most videos are short and to the point. Some offer in depth details on how to accomplish certain things. There are also a pile of videos on anything you can imagine. For many, this is a untapped resource.

Now I don't think everyone that makes a video is an expert on what they are showing. Far from it. A lot of YouTube creators are novices just like me. Me, I'm Abby Normal so I enjoy quirky creativity. Otherwise known as thinking outside the box. If there was only one way to do things, let's face it as a stroke survivor, we'd be up the creek without a paddle.

I like options. I guess that's my saving Grace. I don't like things to be the same. I honestly like change as long as its for the better. I know life is about adapting to change. Otherwise, I feel like a smelly, stagnating pond yearning for a refreshing input of clean water.A chance to rejuvenate into something more. That's not to mean I welcomed my strokes. I would be certifiably nuts to want that. But still, being paralyzed, recovering, the spasticity battles, and everything else has been a challenge to overcome. I've never faced a challenge without giving the old college try of beating it. This was has been daunting. But I still haven't given up.

I watch assorted YouTube channels and think, "How can I do that?" If I reach a decision that it's impossible right now, I watch several others and see how that creator did it. If I watch enough ideas, I eventually figure out a way to do it or not. Somethings even with adaptation isn't possible without help.

sweet potatoes

Last week, I harvested sweet potatoes and left them to dry. It being Sunday, homesteaders never have a day off, it was either process them or start to losing them. I wasn't going to allow that. They weren't huge, but enough that two would make a nice side dish. We are still amending our soil for better harvests. Next year, will be better.

I wanted to leave the nicer ones whole and store them in a box for fresh baking. I do love baked sweet potatoes. I could make a whole meal with them. Meanwhile there was a slew of them which were misshapen and sliced by my shovel that had to be canned. I've never frozen sweet potatoes before so I didn't even consider it.

left whole for storage, >than 1/2 the harvest

Now as a person with one usable hand, I have extreme difficulty peeling vegetables. Most times I leave the skin on and just scrub them. But sweet potatoes have to be skinned before canning. I asked Mel to peel them and she was disinclined.  I placed them in my big 23-qt water bath canner and boiled them for 5 minutes to soften the skins. I was hoping to loosen the skins enough too peel them with my fingers. It worked. I sat by my jars and peeled, sliced, and filled my jars. After about an hour, I had filled five pints jars this way. Mel took pity on me and peeled the rest with a paring knife. Soon, my pressure canner was full of 18 pint jars of sweet potatoes. It took Mel an hour to peel all the rest. It was so much faster with her helping. Not that I couldn't have done it myself, I was getting it done. I did adapt, but allowed for expediency.

Today, it's on to the corn. I saw a YouTube video on how to make a cut corn off the cob easily with a drill and thought, I can do that.

Of course my buckets were larger than my corn device so it took so adaption for me to do it one handed. Although I could have built it.  I left it to Mel to build. Up until now, I froze the corn whole in its shuck, but now I have corn kernels and creamed corn canned too!

With YouTube I've relearned how to garden, knit, spin wool, cook, and assorted other skills I thought were lost to me forever since my strokes.

So if you've ever sat in wonder of how I do all that I do living post stroke, now you have the answer.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Relearning Something New

As time goes on living post stroke, as survivors, we are constantly relearning something to stretch the envelop of our boundaries. Life is not lived in a stagnant vacuum. Unless you want it to be.

Initially, you relearn the basic stuff (walking, talking, bathroom) because it's well basic stuff that allows you to be an adult again and have some moderate control in your life. Having control is powerful. But relearning, is tough and that's an understatement. It will make you angry, frustrated, and feel like quitting. But the alternative is worse for your sense self worth and self image.

I guess that's my real blessings in my post stroke recovery process, my stubbornness and pushing the envelop have always been my blessing/curse. I believe in living an EXTRAordinary life in spite of what life dishes out. I pray for the same for you. I am also well versed in thinking outside the box as any good writer is. All my life experiences, although very challenging, has stood me well.

This week's challenges had to do with the new angora rabbitry building. While I could just leave it with plain, paper backed insulation, I wanted walls. Not only wall, but waterproof wall that I could spray cleaned when the bucks decided to mark their territory. Even with apple cider vinegar in their water, rabbit urine stinks...think aged, but diluted cat urine.

Mel and I went to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore last weekend and happened upon plastic, florescent light covers.The ReStore is always our first stop in searching for anything. The proceeds go to a good cause and what I really love is that it's cheaper. Both Mel and I saw these two CASES of light covers (50 2x4 panels) and you could see the light bulb blinking over our heads...waterproof walls!

We also got a kitchen sink and counter tops for the butchering station and a work surface inside the rabbitry. We also got a few odds and ends for the homestead. I walked away with everything for under $75. Keep in mind that these light panel covers sell in the regular large box stores for $175 for 20, I got 50 of them for $45. I think we did pretty well in the "get it cheaper" department. Heck, one of boxes was still in a sealed. The other one was opened so you could see what was inside.

The light panels are fine they way they are. But it wouldn't be me if I left them plain. I noticed while on side was textured the other side and was smooth. Yes, very easy clean up with the smooth surface out. But, I couldn't leave well enough alone, could I? Being this EXTRAordinary person and all. Remember, I once laid an intricate a mosaic patterned floor in my storeroom in my other house. We needed color in our rabbitry especially since we would be spending greater than a few hours grooming our angora rabbits in there. People often discount the value of color in the work space. Be assured, I never do.

So how do I break up the frosted, whitish clear light panels to add color? I knew this would be a challenge being left with only my left damaged hand to work with. What could I do that didn't involve fine motor skills. In the old days, I would have painted murals on the walls and ceilings tiles. I just don't have that kind of dexterity in my left hand. It still had to be waterproof too. I could just glue the panels up and then roller paint the whole thing, but then choosing one or two paint colors that we both liked was problematic.  Besides, it's boring!

Then I remembered stencils. You didn't have to be exact with that. I could just pounce color on. If I used acrylic paints, it would be waterproof. But what design? There's as many stencil designs as one could imagine. I fell into creative mode and it really felt great!

As usual, I brain stormed the issue. Our homestead is cockeyed. That's why we call it the Cockeyed Homestead. Both of us are constantly thinking outside the box.
We are...
1.  Quirky to the point of whimsical.
2. It is a rabbitry not our living area.
Simple is better if I'm doing it, and neither of us is into elaborate, extremely elegant.
Colorful, but not distractingly so.
It needs to show up well on videos.

What do you think?

Well, I Googled images for inspiration. I ran across an appliqued quilt pattern that fit the bill. It will be perfect for the rabbitry. It's an easy design and I can make the bunnies different colors while the hearts stay red and the inside of the ears can be a lighter shade of the bunny. The inside of the ear is the tear drop shape you see in the picture. I printed out the picture making it standard paper size and transferred it onto cardboard. Yes, I know they make plain stencil sheets, but I have an abundance of cardboard since the move up here and it's free. Hello! Nothing is cheaper than free. I had Mel cut them out because I still don't do well with curvy cuts with scissors or in this case an Xacto knife.

From a coloring book

To fill in some of the blank spaces I use 4" carrots. It's just another pop of color. I positioned the rabbits (3 to a panel) sort of straight. I'm cockeyed in more ways than one. I turned the carrots this way and that in the blank spaces. Not so many that the panel appeared too busy. She asked why I was stenciling the panels behind the cages too because nobody will see it. "Doh! So the rabbits have something to look at. LOL!"

I'm just having fun relearning how to paint again. Although I never used stencils much (I preferred free handing it) before my strokes, I'm enjoying the creative aspects of this now. Just like using a loom to knit. Living post stroke is all about adapting to the changes of circumstances and doing. By choosing acrylic paints, soap and water removes all my mistakes before the paints dry. All I needed was a basic primary (8 colors) set of paints. Although I did buy a larger white and black paint to blend with. I outlined the designs with black Sharpie to make them pop. Oh all right, I had Mel do it because she has a steadier hand. But to see the finished product, you'll just have to watch the video which should be posted next week over on the Cockeyed Homestead YouTube channel.


Remember...

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival~The Mouth Piece or Lip Service

Ever since I was an infant, I loved the sensitivity and tactile pleasures of things in my mouth. Fingers, toes, pencils and a few other things. This is one of the problems with my weight being so out of sorts.But since my stroke this love relationship has taken a turn, into a living need to get things done. My love affair has diminished over the last two years to become a semi pleasurable experience of living a life with one functioning arm and hand. My mouth has been my other hand.

This one is full of clothes

The UGLY SIDE...
It's the only way I've found to tie full trash bags tight. UGH! I use the cinch, drawstring bags. Holding it against my leg to tie it never ties it tight enough and getting them unfolded after they come out of the box is challenging at best because of the heat crimping that holds it together. Luckily due to recycling and composting it's only three bags a week.

The BAD SIDE...
Using my teeth to twist off stubborn caps like on toothpaste. Somehow, anything mechanically screwed on, that is supposed to be twisted off gets harder and harder to twist off. While I could position the tube at my waist, hold it tight with my belly, and twist it off that way, sometimes the tube just twists instead of the cap. Only five more tube in my pantry like this because the rest have flip tops.


The NOT SO BAD SIDE...
Any zip locking bag type. Closing it I can place it on the counter and use my affected elbow to hold it in place, but opening it in the first place...into the mouth it goes.

My husband's heater needed to be plugged in. Of course, the closest outlet was behind my side board. I bent over at the waist and tried to plug it in. Drat my short arms. Maybe kneeling I could reach. Nope. Okay, so I'm now lying on my back to see and reach the outlet. With my teeth, I held the plug so my hand could move my Cherry wood silver chest. Success! But then I was trying to get up from that position between the side board and the dining table. Remember the AFO foot doesn't bend and has to be flat on the floor to hold me up. I shimmied on my back to a clear space, got up, and turned on his heater and was greeted by nothing...now his heater was on the fritz. Back to Tractor Supply to buy another one. Down on the floor, plugged it in, and finally when I turned it on I was greeted by heat. The room was a toasty 77 degrees instead of 65. After I did all of that, it dawned on me, I should have plugged in an extension cord instead, but there was no way I was going to lay down and get up again to do it right then...maybe next week.

My lips and teeth have held onto things while I've opened doors, or had my hand full. It sure beats carrying one thing at a time to and fro. With the Botox for my spasticity finally kicking in again, I can hold things under my arm again. What a blessing an armpit can be.

On a lighter note of lip service, Monday through Thursday found me crying more than laughing because of frustration. Thursday about mid morning, my #1 daughter popped in. She lives an hour away. "You've got me until 2:30. What do you need?"

This time I had tears of joy running down my face. I hugged her tight and asked her how did she know that I needed her? She said she got this undeniable urge to come home. God answers prayers. God bless her. She changed Terry's bed again because of another mishap. Put clean sheets on my bed. Took the clothes to the laundry for me. Vacuumed the carpets. Dusted the ceiling fans, walls, and ceiling. Cat changed burned out light bulbs. (All the things I can't do because it requires me to look up  ) She took out all of the trash and put it on the road. She even had time to spend and cared for her stepfather while I got a nap in. I felt like a queen for a day. She even went out for lunch! I'm smiling again and back to my old self. That's what four hours of down time will do for you.

Nothing is impossible with determination and faith.

Sunday Stroke Survival~ If All Else Fails -Punt

I've heard from so many about my ability or ingenuity in dealing with my stroke and life. Personally, I take no credit for it.

I glean information from all sorts of sites on the web to form my new ideas or ways to do things. I know what I want to do and know that I'm not the only one facing these issues. Somebody somewhere has to be talking about it. That is the truth. I spend hours in research and following tangled strings to form and rough working something to substitute for what I can't do.

That's not to say I'm not creative, because I am. I was looking out side the box when my #2 daughter was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis way back in the early eighties. Not to many people knew that kids got it and so young. My daughter was 2 years old. She was facing a lifetime, until she would be 16 and not be considered a juvenile anymore, of physical therapy exercises that hurt twice a day, blood work every four weeks to check medicine levels and kidney function, multiple scans and x-rays, special diets, immunoboosters, and splints and braces. That was on top of regular kid stuff like Chicken Pox and school.

If something is fun then most people don't mind if it's something they have to do. Have you ever met a child that liked taking medicine four times a day, even if it's the orange flavored Children's aspirin. At two, she took a whole bottle of 30 tablets each and every day.There's only so much a kid or an adult will tolerate under normal conditions before they will revolt. I wrote nursery rhymes that went along with her physical therapy exercises in an attempt to make them more fun for her. It was more fun but still painful and boring in a ten year time frame.

I'm a firm believer in..."When all else fails PUNT!" Life isn't fair. Life is not some trouble-free zone. Stuff happens.

For me as a child, I never once asked to be put in harm's way. Neither did my parents. But stuff happens.

As an younger adult, I didn't ask for half of the things I went through. All right, I'll admit to setting myself up for some of it. Everyone makes poor decisions at some point in their life that sets themselves up for a tumble or three.

My father always says a cold is trying to catch him because nobody in their right mind would want to catch a cold. The same goes for most bad things that happen to "good" people.

Didn't you see me as a working minister, author, and full-time caregiver jumping up and down two years ago when a stroke was looking at who to strike next. "Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! Pick me! I can't wait to have a stroke of my very own!"

Yeah, right! You must be crazy!

But the fact is that I did have a stroke. I remember thinking the next morning, if I did have a stroke, I did something right because it wasn't that bad. But then it got worse. I progressed from weakness to paralysis. Yep, I was the idiot who was jumping up and down saying, "Pick me!" and it did.

Punting Away a Stroke
As the weeks and months progressed, my stubbornness kicked in. But there's only so many times you can make applesauce, lemonade, and punt...but I'm still punting. I'm up to my eyeballs in applesauce and have constantly puckered lips from all the lemonade. Still I continue to fight.

After all, A failure is only a failure if you let it be. If I try, fail, and give up then I'm a failure.

Can you really accept failure in your life? Are you this sad sack, who simply let's their failures pile up around them and say, "Woe is me."

How long can you keep that up before you try to figure out another way? I know some people in the real world who can stay in that position for years. Nothing is their fault. Not even a smidgen.  Everything bad happens to them and only them. I'll bet you can think of a few too. Can you stand to be around them for very long? Me neither. That just ain't me.

• Find a teeny tiny positive in your situation. Grab a hold to it and squeeze it for all you are worth. For me, it was being surrounded by caring people who could laugh and being able to laugh at myself.
• Find a bigger positive and repeat. Before long you've squeezed that into nothingness, so you begin to actively search for positive things to cling to because it feels so good. For me, if I wasn't dead then there was the hope of recovery or adaptation. Even though at times this was more of a curse than a blessing. Perception isn't always reality.
• Find a couple of positive things and keep searching. Before long you will be finding more than you can hold. For me, I was grabbing like a starving man at an all you can eat, free buffet.
• Nothing is ever ALL bad or ALL good. There's always the flip side. You just have to look for it. No, I'm not going to say the silver lining because there is no silver lining surviving a stroke other than surviving. It just is what it is.

So that's how I did it and doing it. If you really want to do something...do it. God gave you a brain too. Although not as intelligent, or as beautiful as mine. (batting my eyelashes at you) Oh, smile! You know you want to.

Nothing is impossible with determination.

Monday Mailbox ~ Slowing Down

It's mailbox time to answer your questions. I do know that this is two mailboxes in one day but

Jo,
Woman, you just had a stroke isn't it time you slowed down? As much as I enjoy your books, I can wait. KS

This is my reply...

KS, I've received more emails about writing so soon after my stroke. Yes, the stroke was devastating to me, but the damage was minimal compared to others who have had strokes. Yes, I lost motor function in my arm and leg on my right side. Yes, I lost quite a bit of my overall cognitive skills. I'm relearning how to speak and find words through the cobwebs of damaged gray matter. Rebuilding neural pathways. By doing what I feel I need to do and accomplish with my life is my overall goal. I keep describing my stroke as a bump in the road of life and it is.

Life is about changing and adapting. Without these things life become boring like a hamster on one of those wheels--forever running and going nowhere.

I have in-laws, who while they have hit bumps, have never hit an obstacle like my terminally ill husband I face almost daily. They ran across one extraordinary one dealing with one of their children, which in their eyes was a unclimbable brick wall. We told them that nothing is forever. Just take it one step at a time. If you've laid a firm foundation, they will return to it. Have faith and let it go.

They did. Over time, their child returned to the fold.

For me, to sit and focus on one thing leads to frustration. My life has frustrations or would-be frustrations without me having to add more. I can only do so much therapy before the muscles stop moving in protest. That's a lesson I learned early in my recovery. So I turn my focus to other things like rebuilding my mind or relearning how to do what I once did. Those things are stuff I enjoyed doing before my stroke that I sort of am capable of doing now...like writing.

Granted, it was hard work before and even more of a challenge now. I've never stepped away from a challenge in my life unless it would cause me or someone else harm. Writing is something I enjoyed doing and wanted to do again. Yes, I have slowed down some like writing one book instead of four or five a year. My blogging has picked up, but that's only practice for writing books. Practice makes perfect or something pretty darn close.

My mother used to tell me nothing is impossible. The only thing standing in your way is you. Tell me "No, you can't" and watch me make a liar out of you. My doctors once told me I'd never walk again. I said watch me and did. Now, they tell me that a full recovery from this extensive damage may take years if ever. Once again I say watch me!

Yes, my readers can wait for me to publish more books, but I have to write them first and write I will. It's not that I can't do other things, but this therapeutic too.

Keep writing and loving the Lord.