Breaking up is hard to do

My grandmother Mana used to sew a lot. So to help her out, my grandfather made my grandmother a button box. After she died, it was passed along to me. But the button box ended up fully submerged in our Great Flood of 2009. We dried it out but honestly it's been messed up, dusty in a way I can't seem to clean, and slightly smelly ever since. It's time for me to toss the box.

Most of the buttons were either rusted or a little bit moldy, or in the case of the leather buttons, just messed up. I sorted the buttons and kept the really cool ones that weren't ruined. 

I hate losing something like this. I always felt like it connected me to my grandparents and helped me see where I get some parts of me. 

Every breath you take

I have even more good news to report this week. I feel quite selfish to be hogging all the good news, but there you go. God knows, I've shared plenty of bad news here. This should make a refreshing change.

I saw my doctor today to get the word on all the tests he’d run and to figure out next steps. Readers, I have zero allergies. Not a one, not even ragweed. Amazing! Even more, he thinks that I don’t have asthma proper but rather that my lungs had a big ol hissy fit over all the particulate matter in my living environment. (I suggested maybe I had delicate diva-esque lungs; he laughed over that description and said quite possibly so.)

What that news means is that I haven’t damaged my lungs—hurrah! Plus I can dial back the maintenance inhaler and may be entirely off it altogether—double hurrah! I’m to continue using my peak flow meter to track things but even that may stop.

I have only ever had serious breathing issues in Germany and here in Boston. Both environments have more air pollution than Kansas City. Guess my delicate dainty lungs do not want any crap in the air, thank you very much.

Immovable object

My suitcase has been in this spot since I brought it home from the repair shop yesterday afternoon. Wally has been on it almost the entire time since then.

These pictures span 6:11 AM through 9:12 AM today. He's still there, snoozing away.

Pizza of mixed emotions*

Last week I received a job offer from a company in Overland Park, Kansas (map here). Last night I accepted the offer and I start May 14 (gulp).

I’m excited about being employed again (you should have seen me dancing around the apartment last week), and I’m tickled to be returning to the Kansas City area. The job is squarely in my field and should remain that way, unlike my last job. Plus the company is very stable, also unlike my last job.


 

 But I am sad to leave Boston.

I’ve learned a lot about myself (holes in my walls and ceilings no longer scare me), Kent and I are even closer which I wouldn’t have thought was possible, and we manage money now like no one's business (comes from mostly one income in a very high cost of living area).  More than that, though, I’ve made some really good friends here. While leaving the apartment will be easy-peasy, leaving these friends just flat sucks.


 

I kept in good contact with my KC friends while I lived here so I'm confident I can do the same thing with my Boston friends. It's just hard because so much of what we've enjoyed is the ease of hanging out that comes from an urban environment. Our friends pretty much all live within blocks of each other so getting together never involves anything more than a 15 minute walk and perhaps a stop at the liquor store for a bottle of wine. I will miss that a lot.

*Sunday night I posted on Facebook that Kent and I were having pizza of comfort for dinner. A friend asked me via private message what that meant so I told her I was considering this job offer. When I posted a link to the Kansas City song  last night, she commented pizza of mixed emotions.

But I really, really want to

Kent and I end up incorporating silly phrases in our day to day language. I guess it’s sort of like having a private language, although we’re not trying to be exclusionary. But we’ve done it with things Alison’s said (I hold you now! or Oh my goodness!). This week, we've been using a phrase from our nephew, Schuler.

I mentioned before that he’s got very precise diction—he says yes, not yeah, and uses complete sentences to ask for something he wants. What he usually wants is to play with someone’s cell phone, specifically the games. So he’ll say “May I play with the phone, please?” If the answer is no, then the corners of his mouth head south in a hurry, the tears well up and he’ll say in the most plaintive voice ever “But I really, really want to!” If the answer continues to be no, he’ll keep saying that over and over and add in more tears and crying. Because it’s not my child, I thought it was pretty cute. 

The other night I wanted pizza again—so I used Schuler’s tactic with Kent because he’s the one who makes that particular pizza. And it worked! It worked quite well. We spent the rest of the weekend using that phrase and laughing ourselves silly.

Amy, if you’re reading this, I think it’s cute. I’m sure it drives you nuts and next time I see you, I’ll try not to say it around you. 

Upward dog, downward dog

Reclined cat.

He's on a yoga block, near yoga mats.

It's a start

I trotted about a mile this morning. I had to walk about half a block x2, but otherwise I trotted. I took the first break because I was wheezing a little; I took the second break because I had the more normal for me feeling of not enough air. The really good news is that my peak flow reading was the same post-run as it was pre-run. Now that is real progress.