Just Plain Asking to Get What We Need

The city is doing something to the sewers that involves many holes in the street, many giant yellow machines, and many no-parking signs. Parking was a little tricky before this all started.

I went out one morning and looked around and just grabbed a handful of my hair. The project was underway, vehicles everywhere. I was sure that when I got home from work, there would be no place left to park. The foreman came over and talked with me. He reminded me that I was stressing myself, and also stressing him. I told him about my spine injury and what an adventure it can be to find a parking place or walk home from one on these root-swelled sidewalks. And someone in the crew had gone off with my red cones that keep my sidewalk clear. He sent a man to bring them back.

I finally gave up and went inside.

When I came home from work,amazingly: the yellow machines were parked somewhere out of sight. The place I usually park was not only empty, but the foreman or some dear person had put one of my red cones smack in the middle of it to save it for me! I've never seen him again, and may never get to thank him. The whole thing taught me that if you find the right person (even if you don't know he's the right person)just saying what you need can be enough.

CLEANING THE CEILING FAN BLADES

I was going to save this for a blog on coping with spondylolisthesis, but even healthy people can do this, so here goes.

The thought of the nice, fluffy dust on those fan blades falling into my sleeping nostrils or my breakfast cereal is just disgusting. I have, from when I could paint anything, a medium-long paint roller handle for what they call a weenie roller. If you wrap the fluffy part in a sock, it can fit right over the fan blade and get most of the dust. If you only have the big fluffy paint roller, you may have to take a stitch or two in something. Or get a sock from a really big guy.

First I put my raincoat over the bed, since no cleaning method is foolproof. Then I drag in my step stool and put it right next to the bed, under part of the fan. If your balance is at issue, a long handled roller might still allow you to do this. The roller fits right over the fan blade and the sock grabs the dust. The fan wants to revolve, so I have to hold on to the next blade. I may put an artistic dot of a favorite color on one blade, so I won't lose my place. 

On to the dining area. Fresh sock, repeat raincoat and all the other steps. Give self a gold star. Or something even nicer.

THE CURSE OF THE TUBES

I am shamed daily and threatened with global annihilation or at least detention by every magazine, webzine, and the occasional neighbor.  Why?  Because I don't recycle everything including leftover soymilk and purified water.  

Yes, I have tossed the occasional mooshy banana or unchewable melon half.  But please!

The real shame is in my bathroom.  A really good conditioner and sunscreen are available only in tubes.  Have you ever tried cleaning out a tube for recycling?   (We won't even go into the dabs of sunscreen on my clothes from a tube that gets surly most mornings.) 

 By some contrary coincidence, these tubes sprouted up just when the urging to recycle was upon us.

And dare I go into the matter of the really good body lotion, conditioner, or whatever that comes only in a skinny bottle with a pump?   The tubes, surely not by evil design, wear out long before the bottle is empty.  (Note the lotion bottle that's been on it's side on my nightstand.  When I have time, I can shake the last of the lotion out of the now-pumpless bottom. 

I could smear myself with honey instead of buying lotion (if it's good for a facial, why not?  Or are they designing a tube for honey?)  

This could go on for some time, unless some container designer has a horrible nightmare that his granddaughter is surrounded at sea by a million discarded tubes.  Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

 Or we could boycott.  Or write more letters . . .

CRUEL SHOES: No help on web site

It's not easy being barefoot at work.
In desperation over a wounded foot and lack of shoes to wear to work (where I can’t hide my feet) I thought I’d try a web site that is supposedly for foot doctors. I found their name on an old inside heel lift cushion.

No luck. I found a lot of grade-school looking flats with big straps for some reason, and, as I mention in the e-mails, NO TOE ROOM.

I’ll let you know if I get any help from them.

Thursday, August 25, 2011 12:10 PM


To: sales@surefitlab.com

I have ruined a big toe nail from wearing shoes too round and with toe box too flat. I need a tiny adhesive device that used to be available in drug stores to protect that toe.

I see no shoes on your site with enough toe room.

Can you help?
MLF

To:
sales@surefitlab.com

Thursday, August 25, 2011 
Also, I have to see the top and bottom views on line to see if there IS enough toe room before I buy anything.

MLF

MACY'S ASKS ABOUT CRUEL SHOES

Macy's sent me an e-mail asking for comments on my casual shoes purchases yesterday.  (Wisely, the Glendale store didn't ask for my comments on their shoe department!)

Luckily, clerk Alex in Burbank was a great help, but by the time I got back to her, I was frazzled.  She brought out a brand new pair of the sandals style I had just tried on, and I was too tired to try the new pair on.  Big mistake. 

All in all, the quality of the sandals (Clarks) doesn't compare with my old Clarks (neither does the fit--less secure) and Macy's did not have the colors like pewter and bronze that go on to fall in SoCal.  

I answered the survey, and later I will give a few well-chosen words to the manager.
(Wouldn't it be lovely to buy something that was even BETTER than your last purchase from that particular brand?)  PS  I did get a compliment on them, which makes me wish they fit well enough to wear all the time.

Happy feet to you.

CRUEL SHOES

Woman who have never met before are approaching each other in parking lots, talking urgently, and exchanging phone numbers and e-mail addresses. No, this is not espionage. They are not swapping names of Botox docs in exotic countries. It is part of a frantic search for shoes! Shoes that actually fit and shoes that might be kind to feet already damaged by shoes that didn’t fit.

One of my best friends reported a month ago that she had walked into and out of some of her formerly favorite stores thinking: Where are my shoes? Those of us with atypical feet have been wearing the wrong shoes for years and now have a set of damaged little toes and damaged big toes.

I've worn the dumb shoes, partly due to budget concerns, partly because I couldn't find any that fit, and I have the damage to prove it. I can’t have pedicures now, partly because of fear of more damage, and partly because a pedicure won't glamourize what’s left.

Face it, many working women cannot afford over $200 for the shoes designed by a podiatrist. And, remember, one shouldn’t wear the same shoes every day, so we’re talking maybe $500 for TWO pairs right off the bat.

Barefoot at my particular job is pushing it.  Well, actually, it's out of the question . . .so what do I do? What do YOU do?

GLUTEN FREE SHOPPING LIST

1. Bathroom scale (how the devil did I gain weight without toast, pasta, or maple nut scones?)

2. Pretty, comfy shoes

3. Margarita mix

4. Acne soap (how the devil did I get zits at my age without pizza, toast, or maple nut scones?

5. Bananas and almond butter; yogurt and cocoa powder

6. A blender I can clean in thirty seconds without using a laser

7. Prettier underwear

8. A bigger fridge for all those fruits and vegetables and fruits and vegetables

9. Interesting make-up to try on while I’m nibbling weird rice crackers

10. A drive-up coffee shop so I don’t see all those scones