How Do You Feel

With my hands. That's what my dad would say when I asked him. I said it myself this morning. The verdict on my shoulder is that I have most likely torn the rotator cuff and will need surgery. I will need an MRI first to confirm the diagnosis.

So, while I wait for my insurance that is supposed to start next month, I have a new regimen for pain control. I took the Flexeril last night to relax all those muscles that are tight and painful. I slept pretty good, but my shoulder was aching when I woke. Stands to reason, since the drug is no longer in my system. But, He Who Cares, was amazed that I did not feel all better. I took a pill, I did not have surgery. Nothing has been fixed. So, no, I don't feel better.

Coffee has tempered my attitude. I confess that I am not really pleasant in the morning until I have that first cup. Then I carefully counted my pills to make certain I will have enough until the insurance arrives. I count things. I calculate. I worry. I wonder if I should withhold the blessed relief contained in that bottle ..... anticipating that the proof of insurance may not arrive before I run out. Then I wonder if I will damage my liver or kidneys with the Tylenol and the Ibuprofen I am swallowing.

I took the Tramadol, throwing caution to the winds. I am tired of the pain and want to feel normal again. I did not realize just how miserable I was until I took that first dose.

I now sit here sipping my coffee with an ice pack on my shoulder and wait for the pain to ease. I wonder what people did before they could diagnose and repair this particular injury. Like I wonder about how they washed clothes in the winter when all they had was a creek and a rock. He Who Cares says I wonder about too many things ........ is this just a nice way to tell me I talk too much?

Watching TV

Eight degrees here. Just heard the weather forecaster say it would be 15 by noon and maybe 18 by lunch time ....... I am confused. I thought noon was lunch time.

Watching too much TV. Nothing else to do. No, that is wrong. Plenty to do, if only all my joints were moving. I see an ad for a new show. Hollywood Hillbillies, I think. The matriarch of the family is negotiating the purchase of a vehicle and says she will throw in an IUD to sweeten the deal. Her daughter corrects her, saying, "No Mama, you mean IOU." The exchange caught my attention and made me wonder where she would obtain this IUD and what she thought the car salesman would do with it. Southern accent, wonder which state will become synonymous with her particular brand of ignorance.

Just scoped out HGTV and DIY to see what I have in store today. Kitchen Cousins or Property Virgins. I may just end up watching LMN today. So many choices, too much time to fill ........

Woe Is Me

I give up. I made an appointment for my shoulder. Trying to avoid going to the "doctor" that I dislike so much, I have been waiting patiently for my O'Bama insurance card to arrive. But, I find myself unable to escape the constant pain. Sitting, standing, or lying down I can't seem to get into a position that is without pain. Miserable describes me perfectly.

I fiddle around and manage to accomplish a few things, but nothing significant. I want to be doing something, anything. I have treated myself to a Rehab Addict marathon today. I just love her! She doesn't smash perfectly good stuff to renovate. And .... she saves everything and finds new uses for the stuff. The bad part about watching this she is that it motivates me to do stuff. And I can't.

Time for more Ibuprofen. Woe is me, woe is me. I am not a good patient.

Snow, Sunshine and Paint

I don't know why I even watch the news. It is depressing. Mainly we want to see the weather forecast. But, it is rarely accurate. Supposed to be  40 degree day with balmy winds. Okay, they got the wind right, but the swirling snow I see out the window tells me it is not 40 degrees out there. The snow is sticking, which also indicates it is not warming up.

Whatever. Can't do anything about it. With February fast approaching, I decided to do a major cleaning in the store. I pulled all the accumulation of things that have been stuffed into the storage closet. You know all that stuff you push behind doors when you are cleaning and hiding clutter. There was an unbelievable pile of stuff when I finished.

He Who is a pack rat refuses to part with electronics. Don't know why. If the phone battery dies, he will come home with a brand new system. Never the same brand. I found Samsung, GE and AT&T. Phone chargers, handsets and tons of power supply cords. I put all this stuff on the table for him to peruse. Like last call at the bar, I told him he did not have to get rid of it ....... but it can't stay here.

A lot of stuff remains on the table and there is a pile to go to Goodwill and the dumpster is getting full. The storage closet is organized and labeled. My friend, the taxidermist, has many talents. She was bored and came to see me and worked for two days! I will confess that she had more energy than I did. She was like a tornado of ideas and I was the naysayer. My shoulder was on fire, but we pulled the fabric from the walls of the reception desk and replaced it with burlap. My fabric had license plates on it. Sherry, the stuffer of dead animals, proclaimed the fabric to be too busy. I liked it, but a kid had plucked at it, trying to get a license plate off (while his father encouraged him) and it was time for a change. 

She is going to trim the area out for me. She wants to paint all the walls and get rid of all my chotchkies, my stuff collected over the years. The horseshoes we found on the grounds as we cleaned up different areas, my cigar boxes that belonged to my Grandpop, the leaking Emu egg ( a treasure of He Who), and my collection of wooden spools. She thinks I have too much stuff displayed and the eye has nowhere to land.

She could be right about about all that, but I am old and set in my ways and not easily persuaded. Painting the entire store with my bum shoulder does not sound like a good idea to me. It does need to be painted and you know it is when you start cleaning and you spruce up one thing ...... makes the rest look bad and the project snow balls out of control. Can't let that happen with my achy shoulder.

I am going to paint some of my fixtures and get them ready for summer ........ but, I would rather be sewing.

Remission

My dad is 83. The older I get, the younger his age seems to be. Like all children, no matter how old, we take for granted that our parents will always be there.

Although I lost my mother 13 years ago, having my dad means I am still a child. Last March he was diagnosed with cancer. He was optimistic as he met with doctors specializing his care in Atlanta. Daddy's glass has always been half full, preferring to see the good, as opposed to the bad. He met all the challenges of the cancer head-on. The chemo weakened him and the radiation make him lose his appetite.

I called as regularly as possible and he told me not to worry, he was "fine". Always assuring me that I did not need to make a trip to see him. He knows how hectic it is here. In August I called him and my heart broke when I heard his voice. All optimism gone, resignation and despair had taken over. His macular degeneration was progressing and reading had become almost impossible. He loves to read. He said to me, "I can't even read the newspaper, what's the use of anything?"

I called my children and cried in my own despair. My son, the image of my dad, made flight arrangements and I was able to spend almost two days with him before I rushed back in time for Labor Day. I would like to believe that just being able to see me made him better, my ego being what it is, but he was almost back to his old self when I left.

He was all set to have the shrunken tumor that was wrapped around his esophagus removed and obediently went for his routine PET scan only to find that the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes. Surgery was cancelled and a new regimen of chemo was started. This time, he is not as sick as before. He is tired and has to rest a lot, but he feels pretty good. I can always tell how he feels by the tone of Mama's voice when she answers the phone.

I am just not ready to lose my dad. Many prayers have held him up. More than he will ever know. He called last night with the results of his last PET scan. Remission. He is in remission and I am so thankful.

Jealousy

Monday, again. Monday mornings, sometimes it just turns out that way ......

Everybody knows about my left shoulder incident that simply refuses to heal, despite the fact that I have promised never to drag anything with that arm again while driving the golf cart. Promise! The pain will subside and I will forget not to reach backward ........ and will find myself clutching my arm to my chest and moving with great care.

I have been favoring my left side since (seems like forever) July. Last night I was laughing at an aerial view of a church with a broken water main. From the sky, the building is shaped like a symbol of manhood ....  and the water is spraying form one end, while at the other end there is a grouping of what looks like umbrellas ........ big round ones.
I got up to show it to He Who was doing taxes and needed a laugh. I bent slightly down and my back grabbed me on the right side, pulling me back to an upright position.

It is my lower back. I am now wondering if my right side was jealous of all the attention to my left side and sought revenge. Or maybe God was teaching me a lesson for having a dirty mind? Sorry, it was funny!!

So, Monday finds me unable to get into a comfortable position. Seems like everything hurts. I have Cujo snuggled close to my right hip, radiating heat to my back. I tried using him as a heating pad to my left shoulder. Even though he is only about 8 lbs., he was still too heavy. The good thing about Cujo is that you don't have to plug him in or re-heat him. He is a constant source of heat. Not too hot, not to cold ...... just right.

I need to make a grocery run and pick up prescriptions, but I doubt Cujo would be allowed in the stores, even though he is my service dog today. I could just saunter in the store with him draped over my left shoulder like a fox collar on a coat. I could be featured on "The People of Walmart".

Nimble Fingers

My "new' machine became my old machine today. I put her back together carefully and unplugged all her wires. I felt sad as I lifted her and carried outside the safety of the sewing lair and set her on the table in the store. Goodbye, my faithful Kenmore, you served me well.

The new Brother arrived yesterday and I spent the afternoon reading all about the features. By evening my mind was boggled. Most of the instructions ended with "using unauthorized parts can cause damage to your machine" and pictures of the correct way to do something as opposed to the illustration of the wrong way. Under the wrong way illustration were the familiar warnings "doing this can cause damage to your machine". I went to bed with a headache and a sense of foreboding about my newest machine.

This morning, after coffee and putting away the instruction manual, I headed in to set up the Brother. I got all her wires connected and there she sat in the place of glory. So many stickers adorned her casing I was distracted. A "STOP, we can help ......." advising the new owner not to try to return the machine to the store. This warning was on the box, just inside the box and on every little bag containing parts. I peeled that sticker from the machine and tossed it. In doing this I sealed a solemn oath to never, ever try to return this machine to Amazon.

I consider myself to be of above average intelligence, especially when it comes to interacting with a sewing machine. I knew every nook and cranny of my Kenmore and was not intimidated when it came to taking her apart and reassembling her. No, this has nothing to do with the fact that the machine died. I think it has more to do with all the miles I put on the motor.

So, here I sat in front of my new Brother with all the stickers adorning her body. Illustrations demonstrating the threading, the bobbin winding, the insertion of the bobbin and changing the needle are all on the stickers. But, wait, there is also an LCD screen on which to access the individual steps involved in all these actions. I was able to fill the bobbin and thread the machine with no problem. Then I discovered the new feature I had been looking forward to checking out.

My Brother has a built in needle threader!! This so exciting. I can't seem to perform this with my bifocals on .... or off. My current method involved the tweezers from my serger and a tiny magnifying glass that I found on some toenail clippers at the Dollar Tree.

I finished three garments today, broke two needles and replaced them. I discovered some features I am not all that fond of. There is a "safety" feature that locks the machine when something goes wrong. The first needle to break was the one the machine came with. It hit the seam and bent. It wasn't even a thick seam, like those on jeans. It was just velour.

The LCD display announced the broken needle and the machine locked the needle holder in the "down" position and even bounced a couple of times, hammering it in that position. I could not help imagining my finger trapped there. I changed the needle, using the "authorized" needles that accompanied the machine. The second one to break hit a straight pin.

My Kenmore always stopped with the needle in the "up" position, always ready to pull your seam away and clip the threads. This one ends with the needle in the "down" position. There is a button to push to bring it up. I will have to get used to that. I also need to locate my small needle nose pliers that were "borrowed" by He Who borrows and never returns. Just in case my fingers get in the way of that needle.

It might be awhile before I can sit and sew mindlessly while listening to an audio book. My fingers are not familiar with all the buttons and switches yet. I am still missing my old Kenmore. 

Negative Is Minus

With the weather in the news this past week, something has come to my attention. A very long time ago, when I was young, and the temperature dipped below zero, the "weather man" referred to the temperature as "minus" degrees. As I grew older and raised children to adults, it was still "minus". When did it change to "negative"?

Times are always changing ....... that much remains the same. How is that for profound? The "weather man" became the meteorologist and is no longer a man. Precipitation became "perciptation" when we moved to Minnesota and annoyed me when they left a syllable out. My pet peeve was some one asking me if I would "borrow me some money". (No, but, I will LEND you some money).
And all soft drinks are "pop". That didn't bother me so much as asking me if I wanted to "come with". With what?

I have far too much time on my hands. My newest sewing machine did not arrive yesterday. I was notified that delivery would be delayed due to inclement weather ..... must be that icy "preciptation".

Cabin Fever and Floods

It is 66 degrees in here and I have worked hard all morning with the wood stove to get it there. The firewood I have ventured out to get is heavy and wet and not well seasoned at all.

I have had no cold water in the bathroom for two days. I am flushing with hot water. Well, I was.

About an hour ago I went into the kitchen, headed to the back door to see if the wood in the back might be better than the wood in the front. I was shuffling along in my furry slippers and socks that just made my outfit of velour pants atop my long johns, finished off with an over-size sweat on top of my nightgown.

I stop when I see the water. A lake in my kitchen, heading into my sitting area. At first I thought the dogs had over-turned their water bowl, but, it was upright and could not have held all this water. I grabbed the phone and called He Who plumbs. He Who was towing and headed far east. He suggested I turn the water off (I was already wading there).

I took off my slippers and socks and went in my bare feet to stop the flow of water feeding the lake in my kitchen. Then I dried my frozen feet and put my socks and boots on to launch the necessary investigation. The sturdy winds had kept the sidewalk free of snow, and I was able to navigate my way to the public laundry. It was flooded, as was the men's room. The pipe that burst is in this area. That's as much information as I needed.

Went back inside to warm myself in the 63 degree room and started mopping. This is not the best activity for my gimpy shoulder. I gave up after emptying one bucket and have been coaxing the fire along since. I might be warm by bedtime. 

I will not be standing in water to cook tonight. He Who plumbs and tows can also pick up Chinese!

I am tired of Lifetime movies and even HGTV! I don't want to put a puzzle together and I don't want to play Spider Solitaire. I am tired of these four walls. My sewing machine delivery has been delayed due to the weather.

My pets are a little stir crazy, too. Martha, the boy cat, normally spends his nights outside hunting and no doubt commiserating with the old possum that lives in the barn eating fish food pellets. He likes to spend his days on the memory foam pet bed in front of the wood stove sleeping. Night before last I decided he should not be put out with the last potty break of the night. I re-introduced him to the location of his litter box, filled his dish with cat chow and some yummy treats and made sure he had water. If he is inside when we all go to bed, he will wait until I am sleeping soundly or having a lovely dream and enter the bedroom. He has tried pouncing on me to wake me, but has learned that this is not a good idea. I will send him flying to the floor when I wake and automatically knock the attacker off my person. His newest form of waking me is to lift the shade and get under it to look outside. This makes the plastic things on the end of the cords hit the wall. I am a very light sleeper. If that doesn't wake me, Wall-E's bark does.

Wall-E is the first alert and is very brave as he cowers as close to me as he can get. He just sounds the alarm and leaves it up to the other dogs to do the dirty work. He has learned not to alert us when he hears the cat, though. At 1:00 am, Martha awakened me. I got up, scooped him up and went to the back door to show him just how cold it was outside. He went out, dug a hole in the snow, relieved himself and came right back in.

Thinking that it was ironic that the only animal I could convince to brave that bitter cold wind was the only one with his very own bathroom inside, I trudged back to bed. At 1:55, Martha was back under the shade with  his head looking outside. He even made a mournful mewl. I tried to settle him into the store, but he followed me and cried the entire way. I got back under the warm covers and he persisted with his antics and soon found himself flying out the back door!

All day yesterday, I would call for him to come in. I really felt guilty that I had tossed my pet out just because he refused to let me sleep. He finally came back inside just before dark ...... punishing me, I suppose. But, last night he stayed in, sleeping at my feet all night long. Not once did utter his pitiful mewl or play with the window shade. I slept all night long!

So, you would think I would be in a perkier mood today. Maybe sleep deprivation is a good thing when you can do absolutely nothing!

As The Snow Blows ......

The storm arrived in the wee hours of the morning. It is coming down fast and hard and the wind is ferocious. The wind is always a huge factor here. We have a covered area over our back door where we put the firewood. But, depending on which way the wind is blowing, it doesn't always stay dry.

Since I could not sew yesterday, I layered on the sweats and jackets and ventured out. It was not that cold and the wind was calm and before long I was sweating as I hauled wood to the front porch. I reasoned that at least one pile of firewood would remain dry. I filled my golf cart twice and put about 8 days worth of warmth on the front porch, close to the front door into the store. That's me, always prepared. 

Both wood piles are covered in about 3" of snow. The wind is blowing huge drifts, making me regret not bringing the snow shovel in. Not to worry. The snow is light and fluffy and the dust pan has proved to be sufficient for the area in front of the door. It will need to be scooped out again in a couple of hours.

I am prepared, though ........ dustpan in hand.

WalMart's Loss ........

Now that my sewing lair is only a machine grave yard, I am at loose ends. My days seem to drag on and on. Oh wait, it just happened. But, I have to confess that I have never wanted to sew as much as I want to sew right now!

He Who tows confessed to having a stash of money he was saving for our retirement RV and offered to buy a new machine for me. He is indeed a loving husband. He says that I should up-grade and get a machine with more functions than my recently departed one. I accepted his money ....... but declined his offer to go buy it.

You will recall that I have NEVER picked out the car I drive and he bought a refrigerator for my 50th birthday. My washing machine died shortly after the refrigerator came to live in my kitchen. Let the record show that the new refrigerator was NOT the stainless I had requested, but more of a brushed nickel. You would think that he would have listened to me when I told him I would prefer picking out my own appliances after the I shared my disappointment about the fridge.

You guessed it, he bought the washer with no input from me and "surprised" me with it. He had it all hooked up and clothes in it when I first laid eyes on it. He was sincerely surprised when I got mad. Or maybe he was surprised that I expressed my displeasure in front of his mother, who happened to be visiting. The cars, I really don't care about. Maybe I should choose a tractor for him, or a dump truck, or mower. Given the track record of his choices, maybe that's not such a bad idea. Who buys a dump truck with no brakes? The "deal" couldn't have been that good.

Back to my lack of a sewing machine. I spent a good amount of time researching different ones on-line and settled on a Brother SE 400. I read all the reviews and for the price it looks like a good machine for my needs. This particular model will also embroider. The prices ranged from $799 at fabric.com to $323.49 at WalMart. Free site to store shipping if I am willing to wait until the 14th.

Ten days! It took some effort, but I finally located a store that was supposed to have them in stock. He Who tows was on a run that would take him very close to that store. I called the store in question and gave them the pertinent information and asked them to check stock. I was transferred to a phone that rang endlessly. I am assuming the phone located conveniently at the cutting table in that department. Stock can be easily checked on a hand held in-store computer, you can even locate the item from another store this way. It is a pain to stop what you are doing and it is always better to actually check the shelf on bigger items before telling a good customer such as myself to come and get it. I know all this because I used to work at a WalMart. I worked in the pharmacy, but every employee is required to function in every capacity, no matter the department they are assigned. It comes as no surprise that this policy is rarely enforced. When you think about it, it is not even a reasonable expectation.

I could envision the scenario as I heard the phone ring and ring. Customers were going about the business of shopping, mildly annoyed at the ringing phone, wondering why it was being ignored. Employees heard it and were thinking to themselves that somebody in that department should pick it up and above all, wondering why the stupid customer had not hung up (because I am persistent, that's why!).

I heard the delay that told me they had transferred the call to another department. After only 10 rings a friendly WalMart associate in electronics came to my rescue. No, that is not really what happened. He sounded like he had tried to wait me out and decided that I was not going to hang up. I gave him all the information I had shared with "customer assistance". He tried to get out of it. Told me he was not in the fabric department, but in electronics. I told him the machine was powered by electricity and assured him that I would hold patiently while he meandered across the aisle to fulfill my request.

I know better, really, I do, Sometimes I just can't seem to stop myself. I know that he laid the phone down and continued whatever task he was doing when I interrupted him, then picked up the phone again and told me they were out of stock on that item. Computer said they had two in stock. What are the chances that two other people had their sewing machines die yesterday?

I continued searching and found that Amazon had the exact same machine for $294 and free shipping and I will have the machine on Wednesday. I was willing to pay more to have it today ....... Walmart lost  business today. He Who tows would have added at least 10 more items to the cart.

Twenty-two Years of Service

Ice and snow on the ground and the bitter cold have me locked inside like I am under house arrest. So, tired of cleaning out closets and cupboards, I escape to my sewing lair. I suppose I could have mopped again and vacuumed up the ever present dog hair.

But, I was in a creative mood, having already made a deal with myself to finish at least 3 projects under construction before trying a new one. I turned on the space heater and my SAD light. Filled my insulated cup with Dr. Pepper 10 and was all set to enjoy an afternoon with my best friend, my sewing machine.

This particular machine is the one I refer to as "new". Because I still have the "old" machine it replaced after many long years of use. I even took it to a repair facility and was told it could not be resuscitated. So, why I still have it in my possession is truly a mystery. I still have my mother's sewing machine, the one I learned to sew on when I was 14. It doesn't work either and weighs more than I do (okay, maybe I exaggerate, but it is heavy). My over-lock machine is among the dead machines that adorn my space also. I am sentimental, I suppose. I did have another machine that I liked to keep threaded with white. I would do all my hems and straight line sewing on it. But that was back in the day when I had an enormous sewing room and kept 3 machines busy. I gave that one to my sweet granddaughter when she wanted to learn to sew.

My "new" machine has all sorts of specialty stitches and will also over-lock fabric edges and I know every nook and cranny of her. Just the other day I took her apart and blew out all the dust with canned air, then lovingly applied oil until she was humming with happiness. She has been my faithful companion for over 20 years. I sat down with her and dressed her with black thread, popped in a black bobbin and started a seam. She coughed and balked ..... I took the fabric away and re-threaded and tried again. She locked up and wouldn't move! I took her apart and squirted machine oil on her moving parts and begged her to come back to me. Her light went out. I checked all the connections. She is gone. My "new" machine. Gone forever. I am devastated.

No sewing projects were done today. I am in mourning. My 22 year old machine died today.

Nail Biting

If you read any of my blogs, you know that I have four dogs and I love them. They all have very different personalities and give me much pleasure.

Not long ago we paid a visit to our vet and made her mortgage payment. She saw three of the four canines. Oscar had some dental surgery and Toni Louise needed a vaccination. My vet does complimentary toenail clipping, so I always know that the paws will be nicely groomed when they come home. Toni was not in need of her services, but Oscar was clipped while he slept blissfully under the aid of anesthesia. Wall-E went just to have his clipped. She only charges for his sedative. Worth every penny. He turns into a monster when you bother his feet.

Cujo went along for the ride. He stayed close to my feet and just observed. Now, just the other day I was inspecting his sweet little toes and commented that his nails never seemed to grow. And now I know why. My little guy bites his nails! He was wiggling as he sat next to me in my chair yesterday and when I looked to see what he was doing, he was chewing his nails. Like a person, when he would get a good break, he would grab the offending piece with his teeth and pull it off.

I showed him the clippers today and cleaned up some of his work. He lay on his back in the crook of my arm, like a baby. He watched and didn't object when I clipped a few nails. He became bored with it before I got to his back feet. Oddly enough, Wall-E was right next to us inspecting my work, while Toni Louise thought the discarded nails were a dog treat delicacy.

Oscar did not care to join in. He napped on his memory foam bed in front of the wood stove. It was right after breakfast, time for a nap. He naps a lot, being a senior dog citizen at age 14. His days are pretty simple. I would say the life of a dog is simple, but not my dogs. My dogs are special.

Downsizing Resolutions

Happy New Year. My mother was always quoting old wives tales and superstitions. We always had black-eyed peas and ham hocks on New Years Day. Some sort of greens, too. Turnips, collards or mustard. Cornbread, too. All this was supposed to bring good luck and wealth in the new year.

It never worked. Our luck and finances were still predictable. After all these years you would think it would be okay to abandon tradition, but I didn't. I cooked it all in happy anticipation of all the wealth to come. Maybe it has already started ..... we were able to sign up for insurance on Christmas day.

Another of Mother's sayings ........ whatever you do on New Years Day, you will be doing all year. She would never do a load of laundry, or tackle a big cleaning project on the first day of the year. Funny thing, though, she still had laundry to do all year long. I never really believed that particular adage, though.

Still, these things stick around in a corner of your mind like dust balls. As you sweep through memories, those dust balls bounce around and come to the forefront of your mind. So, with that particular thought in my mind I decided to tackle my closet. My shoulder still hurts, but, I sure don't want to sit around all of 2014 nursing an ache, do I?

Of course not! I did it, too. I pulled all the stuff out and weeded through all the things that will never get any use. My closet is pristine! I vacuumed and folded and hung and tidied the day away. I did laundry and I cooked. I mopped and washed dishes, too. Tomorrow I will be stripping the bed and taking down the curtains. I will be washing all the rugs and linens and curtains. Really, I will. I have set the precedent and now I must follow through!!

The only bad thing about pulling all those clothes out is that I have spent far too many hours trolling Pinterest. Those oxford cloth button down collar shirts that He Who wears day glo safety colors used to wear, ...... those would make really cute little dresses for little girls. The sweaters could be re-purposed into mittens and tea pot cozies and oh, so many things. 

It will be hard to part with all that good crafting material, you know. Mother rarely made any resolutions, but I have decided that my resolution this year will be to down-size. No, not me, but my belongings. Not that downsizing me is necessarily a bad idea ........