Raking...

My little fluffernutter is just fine.  He ate and drank well yesterday, as if spewing up everything in his stomach the night before had not happened.  Gosh, I really wish that I knew what to do about his infrequent episodes of emptying his stomach.  He's not regurgitating.  He doesn't have intractable vomiting.  He doesn't even have sustained vomiting.  Just ... I-ocassionally-don't-like-something-in-my-stomach-vomiting.

It doesn't help that his puppy momma is a worry wort.

Today, he pooped on the sidewalk, after many aborted attempts to do otherwise, because he could not find a place in the yard that was free of deposits, which he very understandably desires in a location for them.  The problem is that the leaves were not tended to this fall.  Honestly, I hoped that with my family here someone might have asked me if there was anything I needed about the house and I would have very promptly said, "Rake the leaves in the back yard."  That never happened.  The problem with the leaves is that I cannot see well enough to distinguish the deposits among them.

So, I got out the rake.
And fainted.
Eight times.
And filled three yard waste bags of leaves.

Amos was rather happy to be able to walk on that part of the yard again.

There is no way for me to safely squat and rise, bend over and rise, sit on the ground and rise.  Gravity is too much for my failing autonomic nervous system.  When we came inside, Amos went and fetched Beaver Baby and then crawled into my lap with it.  He was all about consolation and comfort.

Raking the leaves got me thinking about my desire to have visitors come and ask me if there are things they could do for me.  It is what I want but it also seems inordinately selfish.  It doesn't happen that way.  My main progress is asking visitors to change their sheets they day they are leaving because that is very helpful for me.   But asking for help with things always ends up with others things taking place.  My goodness, I think every single person in this house I've asked to hold Amos' paws so that I can trim the hair around his pads.  And I've asked several to vacuums the servant stairs.  That, however, is now being taken care of by the maids my mother hired to clean my house once a month.  Thankfully.

Anyway, I have this deep desire to have help with the things that are difficult for me but I do not consider as being too much to ask.  And yet I think that is proof positive that I am a horrible selfish human being who just wants to manipulate others into doing the things I'm too lazy to do.

Words I've heard.
Words I cannot un-hear.
Word I seem to let define me.

I asked a while ago, "What is identity?"  Oh, how I wish I knew that question is answered.

Mostly, I am conflicted.  Because if folk do visit, I want to provide a pleasant and relaxing time for them, filled with tasty foods and their favorite treats. Given that I cannot go out and do entertaining things with folk, I want the time they spend in the house with me to make them feel pampered and relaxed.  Somehow, raking my leaves or scrubbing my tub or vacuuming a staircase doesn't really fit in with that goal.

I really did want someone to rake my leaves in the back yard. I do not actually like fainting.  I tried to get Firewood Man to do it, but he never had the time.  I hoped and hinted whilst my family was here, but that didn't work out.  I asked at a church down the block for me if there were any youth who were interested in odd jobs.  There were not.  That was all the courage I could muster.

So I raked.
And fainted.
And took care of the poop problem.