Scooter Saga

"Did you just tammy my glass?" my son-in-law, Michael, said to Heidi. "Oh, jeez. Yes, I did," she answered. I'm not in the habit of eavesdropping on conversations that don't concern me, but it was hard not to hear my name. "What did you say?" I casually asked. Knowing that I'm not easily offended, Michael went on to tell me that my name had become a verb.  I'd like to say that I needed an explanation, but alas, no one did.  I didn't, Earl didn't, and certainly my son and daughter-in-law didn't. tammy : (verb) To collect, wash, and return an item to its place while it is temporarily unattended, but still in use. My premature dishwashing is unintentional, but obviously frequent enough.  I didn't used to be this way.  As I've said in previous posts, I've never been known as a stellar housekeeper.  How did I develop the bit of OCD* I'd always thought would be useful?  How did that bit of OCD become a v

Disclaimer: The post is long with lots of pictures.  It may be duplicative of an old website.  So sue me. Most friends know that we remodeled the house in 2010 to accommodate my progressing disability from ataxia.   The primary issue was decid ing what to do.  Was it financially feasible? Would modifications devalue the house?  Would selling now be more reasonable?  Should we be downsizing at this time in life?  Earl and I talked with family and friends, then embarked on an exploration of other, smaller houses.  For a multitude of reasons, we decided it was best to stay and modify.   At 3600 square feet, the house was much larger than we needed.  But access to the front entry, garage entry and back entry was already a single, manageable step. That in itself, is hugely important to someone with impaired mobility. Not everyone can or should do a major redo.  It's a big undertaking, but it was the right move for us.  Remodeling is expensive, but so is selling a home

Earl and I hadn't been crazy about the original photo designated for the book cover.  So, he took a few that included our street, Skeeter and me and we sent them in.  If I'd known the cover picture would be so evident, I would have taken more time and care.  I'm just waiting to get a lecture from a well–meaning reader about the safe way to wear a helmet.  Whatever... "You're an author!" a friend said.  It was very flattering and I was truly excited to be in print.  My grand children would now consider me a cool grandmother (they don't realize my "coolness" pre–dated them). However, I have to be honest, self–publishing is just this side of vanity publishing.  You can publish anything if you're willing to poney up money. In self–publishing, you do all the work yourself, whereas with supported self–publishing, a company assumes the production duties.  Since I neither had the expertise nor desire to design, market, professionally e