Friday, September 10, 2004
He chuckled.
"She runs a bit dry."
Yes, it's all true. I "designed" the introduction for the searcher who, within the last week ending 9/8/04, searched this section of my Mom & Me web effort for the phrase "the whore next door". Knowing the sheer volume of words I've spent on these publishings and certain eccentricities of expression I practice it wouldn't have surprised me if, sometime, somewhere, in this section alone I might have used the phrase, "the whore next door", even though I, personally, have never lived next door to a whore as far as I know. Nor, do I believe, has my mother. So out of curiosity I searched, too. Nope. Sort of like that "gays at Annapolis" search.
Then I got to thinking. I have a peculiar erotic history on the web. For more than a few years I had a site called Shenar's Adventures. If you visit now you'll see my dated apologia for taking it off the web, a copy of which I used on several sites on which I'd published a variety of material. Lately I've been thinking of reviving it with new stories, but, I don't know, it caused some trouble in my life so I'm not sure. Anyway, it was reviewed in Jane's Guide and received notice as "original" and something else, some other kind of appreciated label. I notice it still appears in some erotic indexes but the files are down. My mother was aware of my erotic website and considered herself daringly lucky to have a daughter who writes erotica. She's mentioned it to people. She thinks I still have the site up. I was lucky she absorbed that bit of information about me before the major shift in her short termentalmemory plates.
Figuratively speaking, I was my own "whore next door" except that my porn was free and all words. I laughed when I realized that.
This, though, doesn't explain the first link up there. That is to an important addendum to the Water Whichery essay; yet another perspective from which to consider hydration in the elderly. [Inserted 9/18/08: While updating links after migrating this section to the new domain, I discovered I had linked "She runs a bit dry" to "Water Whichery", which makes no sense. I have a vague memory of this phrase somewhere else in the journals, but I'm not sure where it is. I will continue to look and, hopefully, someday, correct the link. In the meantime, I'll leave it as it is.]
It's turned out to be a low-key day with some walkering on the driveway. She tends to walker more slowly on the driveway, thus she corrects herself more often. I'm still placing calls to answering machines and waiting for calls back on some business matters. The last two business days following a big holiday weekend are not good for doing business. On other matters I'm dragging. I think yesterday and today were/are, my "it's sinking in" days: We will become a one-home household by the end of the month. My mother has had a bit more energy than me, although I'm, surprisingly, getting some things done.
Monday we return to Mesa. I'll pack out what we'll be transporting. I'll call my marvelous local moving company from there and set up disconnect dates on utilities. I'm thinking I should be able to procure a storage shed tomorrow. Those places are open on Saturdays. I'd like to be able to transfer the boxes of stuff I've already removed from our Mesa home into storage this weekend. I shudder thinking about the contents of the dilapidated shed attached to our Mesa home. I expect that I'll be able to can handle them. They'll probably need to be repacked on the spot and, as well, hmmm, maybe I have some face masks in order to filter out the dust and dirt; I think I do. Anyway, without a mask Mom will not be allowed anywhere near the shed and she'll be on oxygen if she ventures near it.
I'll probably pick up some boxes at our grocery tomorrow for packing, and maybe buy newspapers for the next couple of days; or, it may be cheaper to buy those large sheets of foolscap from the storage shed renters. I don't know.
I need to go through paperwork this weekend. Mom may get yet one more day without doing exercises although I don't know, I'm up for it. She just wasn't this morning and I gave her some slack.
I am going to enter stats. Immediately after I finish this, or, maybe not so immediately.
Mom's becoming disgusted with my insistence on cleaning her every time she has a bowel movment. for the moment, though, I can't help it. I repeat this and I talk crassly and tell bad jokes while I do it so she laughs, too. I continue to tell her, "Believe me, Mrs. Hudson, I wish I didn't have to do this!" She gets that.
Later. Maybe. I don't know.
Yes, it's all true. I "designed" the introduction for the searcher who, within the last week ending 9/8/04, searched this section of my Mom & Me web effort for the phrase "the whore next door". Knowing the sheer volume of words I've spent on these publishings and certain eccentricities of expression I practice it wouldn't have surprised me if, sometime, somewhere, in this section alone I might have used the phrase, "the whore next door", even though I, personally, have never lived next door to a whore as far as I know. Nor, do I believe, has my mother. So out of curiosity I searched, too. Nope. Sort of like that "gays at Annapolis" search.
Then I got to thinking. I have a peculiar erotic history on the web. For more than a few years I had a site called Shenar's Adventures. If you visit now you'll see my dated apologia for taking it off the web, a copy of which I used on several sites on which I'd published a variety of material. Lately I've been thinking of reviving it with new stories, but, I don't know, it caused some trouble in my life so I'm not sure. Anyway, it was reviewed in Jane's Guide and received notice as "original" and something else, some other kind of appreciated label. I notice it still appears in some erotic indexes but the files are down. My mother was aware of my erotic website and considered herself daringly lucky to have a daughter who writes erotica. She's mentioned it to people. She thinks I still have the site up. I was lucky she absorbed that bit of information about me before the major shift in her short termentalmemory plates.
Figuratively speaking, I was my own "whore next door" except that my porn was free and all words. I laughed when I realized that.
This, though, doesn't explain the first link up there. That is to an important addendum to the Water Whichery essay; yet another perspective from which to consider hydration in the elderly. [Inserted 9/18/08: While updating links after migrating this section to the new domain, I discovered I had linked "She runs a bit dry" to "Water Whichery", which makes no sense. I have a vague memory of this phrase somewhere else in the journals, but I'm not sure where it is. I will continue to look and, hopefully, someday, correct the link. In the meantime, I'll leave it as it is.]
It's turned out to be a low-key day with some walkering on the driveway. She tends to walker more slowly on the driveway, thus she corrects herself more often. I'm still placing calls to answering machines and waiting for calls back on some business matters. The last two business days following a big holiday weekend are not good for doing business. On other matters I'm dragging. I think yesterday and today were/are, my "it's sinking in" days: We will become a one-home household by the end of the month. My mother has had a bit more energy than me, although I'm, surprisingly, getting some things done.
Monday we return to Mesa. I'll pack out what we'll be transporting. I'll call my marvelous local moving company from there and set up disconnect dates on utilities. I'm thinking I should be able to procure a storage shed tomorrow. Those places are open on Saturdays. I'd like to be able to transfer the boxes of stuff I've already removed from our Mesa home into storage this weekend. I shudder thinking about the contents of the dilapidated shed attached to our Mesa home. I expect that I'll be able to can handle them. They'll probably need to be repacked on the spot and, as well, hmmm, maybe I have some face masks in order to filter out the dust and dirt; I think I do. Anyway, without a mask Mom will not be allowed anywhere near the shed and she'll be on oxygen if she ventures near it.
I'll probably pick up some boxes at our grocery tomorrow for packing, and maybe buy newspapers for the next couple of days; or, it may be cheaper to buy those large sheets of foolscap from the storage shed renters. I don't know.
I need to go through paperwork this weekend. Mom may get yet one more day without doing exercises although I don't know, I'm up for it. She just wasn't this morning and I gave her some slack.
I am going to enter stats. Immediately after I finish this, or, maybe not so immediately.
Mom's becoming disgusted with my insistence on cleaning her every time she has a bowel movment. for the moment, though, I can't help it. I repeat this and I talk crassly and tell bad jokes while I do it so she laughs, too. I continue to tell her, "Believe me, Mrs. Hudson, I wish I didn't have to do this!" She gets that.
Later. Maybe. I don't know.
Comments:
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originally posted by brainhell: Fri Sep 10, 08:54:00 PM 2004
The link to Shenar's Adventures is broken.
I came across your blog by using the new "Next Blog" randomization link in Blogger. After so many blogs by teenagers talking about their lunch or their history test, I was interested to note that your blog keeps track of medical problems, kind of like mine does.
You're taking care of your mom. Thanks. You're a weirdo too. Thanks. Keep your chin up. I used to be an attendant to the disabled, so I know what you mean about the bathroom duty.
brainhell
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The link to Shenar's Adventures is broken.
I came across your blog by using the new "Next Blog" randomization link in Blogger. After so many blogs by teenagers talking about their lunch or their history test, I was interested to note that your blog keeps track of medical problems, kind of like mine does.
You're taking care of your mom. Thanks. You're a weirdo too. Thanks. Keep your chin up. I used to be an attendant to the disabled, so I know what you mean about the bathroom duty.
brainhell
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