Insomnia is the pits. It’s not just that I can’t get to sleep at 2:23 a.m. It’s the bizarre thoughts my brain throws at me in the dark of night.
Health concerns, financial woes, insurance furies, allergies (aaachooo!), the state of the country, the state of the world, the state of politics (ugh!). The news story that’s due tomorrow that isn’t making any sense to me yet. Husband Richard’s laptop having a temper tantrum. The refrigerator that’s on the fritz, the faucet’s leaking, the pond needs cleaning, the van needs tires and an alignment, the garden needs weeding, my closet needs weeding, my junk drawers need weeding. My brain needs weeding.
Note to self: If you’re going to be awake anyway, Kathe, and counting sheep or reading a book doesn’t help, at least try to think GOOD thoughts.
Deep breaths. Shoulders relaxed.
• Our meadow is green, and some recent fire-safe grass trimming doesn’t seem to have deterred our visiting wildlife at all. In fact, the deer seem to love napping in the shady, cleared-out sections under the scattered pines and oaks. The deer hang around until the turkeys show up like bratty little brothers.
• My caregiving chores have eased a bit, now that one patient has finished his latest course of antibiotics and the other patient’s surgical site is almost healed. Almost. After nearly five months. Poor guy.
• Even after our weird weather patterns so far this year, some wildflowers are blooming, finally, and our coastal hills could be straight out of Ireland. We’ll enjoy the vivid colors while we have ’em, right? Brown’s right around the corner.
• There are good people running for office this year. May we all (and I do mean ALL) get out and vote this time! May the best folks win, please. And may the winners and their peers get along and actually work together to get good stuff done. Hey, a girl can dream, even when she’s wide awake, right?
• And I must have the nicest readers in the world.
Ever since I started writing this column in 1981, y’all have periodically called me, emailed me, social media’d me, written snail mail to me, stopped me on the street and in various stores and even chatted with me while I was waiting to have an x-ray taken.
I love it! You’re very kind.
But when I wrote on March 1 about my frustrating inability to replace a beloved pair of leisure trousers (https://bit.ly/2vzd2gW) … well, your reaction to that column was simply amazing.
Since then, I’ve heard from so many North Coast residents and people who live all over this county and beyond. Amazing!
A few of you I’ve known for years. Others I’d never met before.
All of you contacted me then and since with suggestions about how to replace the stretchy black velour pants I’d worn and loved for way too long. Threadbare doesn’t begin to cover the situation, just as the pants weren’t adequately covering … oh, never mind.
Your recommendations ranged from Land’s End, Buck and Buck, Coldwater Creek, Chico’s, Soft Surroundings and Talbots to Kohl’s, Kmart and Walmart. Many of you included helpful website links.
David and Barbara Keir of Cambria actually invested the time, an envelope and $1.84 in postage to mail me a Blair catalog!
Betty Guthrie suggested specific Danskin yoga pants. Margaret Yun mentioned Vera Wang, and since she couldn’t find them online, she sent me pictures she’d taken of her pair.
A man from Cambria (who might be embarrassed if I mention his name) recommended Puma pants from Costco.
JoAnne O’Connor, a seamstress with a new overlock machine, offered to make me some pants.
But winner and still champion in this be-kind-to-your-forlorn-columnist effort is Louise Boyd of Cambria.
Louise stopped by our house, and we got to know each other a bit. She commiserated with me on my search for the ideal covering for my behind …. and then gave me a brand-new pair of Michael Kors velour pants.
She had bought several of the style she loves, on closeout, and wanted to share, thinking they might be just what I was looking for.
Believe it or not, I was speechless. And very thankful.
I send many thanks and hugs to all of you!
Now, enough of this, Kathe. Go to sleep.