Today I looked around me as I stood in the living room, after coming in from the kitchen, and was almost overwhelmed with the cutter. I have seven little projects on the go, all of which take up a little space. Mist Cottage is small, bigger than a tiny house, and not big enough to qualify for a building permit in modern times. Balancing projects is tricky, and requires attention, which I have not been keeping up with.
I started with straining the dandelion bloom tea. Then moved on to starting the bread baking for the day. Then moved on to filling the Berkey with water. Then moved on to making my breakfast, the usual, 1/3 cup organic rolled oats, 3/4 cup lactose free milk, 1 apple partially peeled, cored, and chopped. Then I moved on to replacing the battery on the wall clock in the kitchen and resetting its time.
More projects await my attention. On the weekend Attila gathered about eleven quarts of whole dandelions from the garden. After soaking and washing them on Sunday, I separated the roots from the plant and chopped them into three inch pieces. All of them went into the dehydrator. Dehydration generates a lot of humidity, so it takes up a lot time and space, running the machine for a few hours, then airing out the house for a few hours, then dehydrating again, and so on. When the dandelions are completely dehydrated they will be powdered, probably in the food processor, and hopefully put in capsules. This will be my attempt to lower my blood pressure naturally, we shall see how this goes.
The windows are open this morning, at the back of the house. The front windows let in a lot of noise when they are open. The new rental complex uses our street as its only access. There is a constant stream of strollers enjoying the fresh air every day, which is lovely to see, but very enjoyable when stand directly in front of the open windows and chat with raised voice, elderly you see.
I’ve talked about the dogs across the street, Yippy and Yappy. Their owners never took them for walks, and left them alone during the day, with the living room window open in milder seasons. Yippy and Yappy, perched on the back of couch at the open window, barked at every animated object, people walking, birds perching, branches swaying the in breeze. Lonely, unsupervised, frustrated little beings letting the world know they were still alive. They never barked when a human was home. But now, the couple had a baby last fall, and I’ve not heard a peep from Yippy and Yappy. I don’t even know if they live there any more. Amazing the difference it makes.
There is a bright side to my pain and nausea, as it happens. One of the many tests I’ve been going through detected an aneurysm. It is a serious condition that might never be a problem, or might kill me instantly at any time. It is not eligible for surgery right now, as the surgery is more likely than the aneurysm to kill me at this point in time. The fatality rate for women with this condition is much, much higher than it is for men, no research has explained why this is. It might be hereditary, because I don’t fit the typical profile for women with this condition (smokers), so I’ve let my blood relatives know about it so they can be checked. It is not the source of my pain and nausea, confirmed by a Surgeon, and other health care people I’ve interacted with about my tests. So there it is, I now have two sudden death conditions to contend with, anaphylaxis and an aneurysm. Once I get used to the new restrictions, and get settled in to the monitoring protocols, I will simply get used to it, and carry on enjoying life.
The quest to diagnose and treat my pain and nausea continues.
Today the sun is shining the the temperature, at 10:00 a.m. is 15C, and it will get much warmer as the day progresses. I now off to make my dandelion jelly, as I can smell the tea boiling away on the range. Then I think I will spend a little time sitting on the porch and watching the birds!
Updated on Tue, May 10, 9:55 AM
Wind 14 S km/h
Humidity 27 %
Visibility 32 km
Sunrise 5:47 AM
Wind gust 21 km/h
Pressure 102.9 kPa
Ceiling 9100 m
Sunset 8:21 PM
“He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.”
1844 – 1900