The Holiday Spirit

For those who read my last entry, you know things are less than perfect in my life.  Despite that, however, I have managed a bit of holiday spirit without the use of spirits.  The only mood elevators I’ve used are holiday music, decorating and baking – better than any drug.

Even with the best of years, it’s not always easy to maintain the joy of the season that we likely felt as kids.  Things were happier, unburdened, and new even when money was tight.  Gifts weren’t just the joy of ripping through paper, but the anticipation of what was there just for us and the look on others’ faces for the gifts we chose just for them.  We looked forward to meals because they were the best, not to mention the additional sweets along the way, and it was okay to have more than we should.  Chores for the day were always before the celebration, not so much after.  Ice was for skating on or at least sliding across if you couldn’t stay up on skates.  We delighted in snow and the greater the accumulation, the better.

Years later, there’s a sense of been there and done that.  The weight of our lives and the troubles of the world sometimes make it hard to to get into the holiday spirit.  The world is not as ideal as we might remember and hope it would be.  The innocence that we approached the holidays with about gifts, food and the weather have been replaced with the realities associated with them.  For some, it’s no presents, no food, and having to deal with the elements firsthand and not by choice because home is far away or nonexistent.

Yet, the holidays come anyway, and like the Grinch, we can’t stop them from coming just because things are bad and we’re not in the mood for them.  We can try to sabotage them all we want, even if only in our corner of things, and they’ll still come.  It’s a feeling, after all, not just things.  It is a sense of joy and hope, love and peace, if only for a few days.  So, revel in it while it's here.

As for me, the spirit of the season was a little slow in overtaking me, but it did manage to win the battle.  Even though it’s only me without presents or a tree, the lights and decorations are up.  There's eggnog (no booze) tonight, and I’ve planned a good repast for tomorrow from which there will be leftovers for days. Finally, I made a small batch of cookies – chocolate chip from scratch and they came out perfect.  Santa gets first dibs and I’ll deal with the rest.

To all, no matter who you are, no matter what your beliefs, I wish you happiness and the grandest of days now and in the year ahead.

2016 – A Less than Fabulous Year

Well, barring a huge lottery win between now and New Year’s Day, of course.

For those who follow this blog, I’m sure you’ve noticed my lack of chatter.  My last post here was in April (the other blog had one post after that).  My desire to write has slowly disappeared with, well, a number of things in my life which have taken a downturn this year.

First, the job.  Now, it was part-time, but it gave me enough hours to live day-to-day.  Summer came and, because it’s a school year-based job, it went dormant at the end of June.  I was fortunate to find another job for the summer, and when I came back, my job actually started out with more hours.  It also had a change in location.  However, the reasons for my being hired in the first place in 2015 had gone the way of the dodo.  My job duties became practically nothing even with my asking and scrounging for things to do.  I started in September at four days a week, then was dropped to three days a week in October, then to two in November, which is where I am presently.  Can’t live on two days of a pay a week unless you’re making CEO type money an hour, which I’m not.  Lest you think I let this dwindling of work days go by without looking for another job, oh trust me, I didn’t.  I’ve been looking for other work since I was hired.   I would have taken either a full-time position or another part-time job that meshed with the one I have (nothing meshes with it, by the way).  So far, lots of applications and resumes going out, very few responses to them coming back and interviews at less than a handful.  I’ve come to the realization that as an office worker, I have nothing special to add to the mix that might make my resume stand out among the stack.  I am ordinary – imagine that.

Then, we come to house and home.  Bringing in a salary that allows you to live only day-to-day isn't enough to pay all the expenses of owning a home, including property taxes.  My work status of part-time has been chronic (sometimes worse) and certainly not by choice.  As a result of being unable to scrape together the money from my paltry wages, my home of 57 years will pass to the county in February and will be auctioned off within 1-2 months unless I can come up with every cent of back taxes owed.  In addition, anything I leave behind will be considered abandoned and go to the new owner.  I knew this was coming, of course.  You can only get behind three years in property taxes before they want their money one way or the other.  I thought my neighbor was going to purchase it with an ongoing living arrangement for me.  But I suspect he’s now just waiting for the tax sale because I haven’t heard another word about that offer since early spring.  I did have a buyer who was interested in it despite its many flaws who was offering a generous six months to vacate, but he backed out earlier this month because he couldn’t swing the entire amount of the back taxes, either. I can’t get a loan because, despite having no other ongoing financial obligations, I am not gainfully employed enough to pay a monthly principle.  My state has a MAP, or Mortgage Assistance Program, that does assist with unpaid taxes as well.  Problem is, there’s no guarantee that I would have gotten help from them, and you have to have solid plans in place to prevent the problem from happening again.  That means being gainfully employed enough to pay the day-to-day and still be able to put money away to pay the taxes when they come due.  Yeah, well, if I could have done that before, I would have.

So, here I am with a house full of stuff, multiple decades in the making, to get rid of.  I could just take what I want and leave the rest.  It might come to that purely out of lack of being able to a) move things and b) store things.  Because the deal to sell fell through so late, I have nothing in place for housing and/or storage of stuff.  It’s going to be very down to the wire with sorting through, getting out and then resettling.

Then, there are my cats.  Yes, folks, those cats I’ve written about in this blog are also in jeopardy.  One has major health issues and I will likely have him put to sleep.  One has some minor lingering post-trauma health issues who I might be able to find a home for before having to consider anything more drastic.  The other two, in relative good health for cats going on 10 years in 2017, are an issue.  If I could find a living situation that would take two cats, even one cat, I’d be thrilled.  But, they’re not so easy to find.  Finding homes for them would also be ideal.  After that, it becomes a very emotional decision.  I really just wanted to make a home of safety and comfort for all of them until they passed naturally.  I don’t plan on having any more animals once these are gone.  There are those who are skeptical, but I’ve remained firm on this since the last cat came into my life in 2009 and I don’t plan on backing down on it.  After all, what happens to them when I’m gone?

Then, there are car problems.  The one that I’m presently driving is not mine.  It belongs to the neighbor who had showed interest in purchasing the house earlier this year.  He has been incredibly kind in allowing me to use it, but that’s likely going to go away once I’m no longer a neighbor.  I would buy it from him, but the title is not transferable.  Plus, the car has issues.  Some of them I’ve dealt with (brakes, tires, and coolant system times three with yet another minor leak), others (exhaust system) not yet.  Now, for a 30-year-old car, it does rather well for itself, but eventually it won’t be and I’ll need to get my own car again.  Guess what’s holding up that issue.

Notice a lack of mention of relationships and, of course, help with any of this?  Yeah, me too.  I know that moving on is actually the best thing for me, but there is no one even offering to lend a hand.  No family has offered to assist with the move either physically or financially, and only one friend gave me help when I needed it back in November (thank you, Judy).  The rest are either too ill to help, too far away, or have their own problems.  Yep, it’s pretty much just me.

Health issues on top of all that, plus sleep issues, anxiety and depression as a result of all that is wrong.  No wonder my muse took an extended vacation, with my creativity going in the crapper.  I hope it (my muse) eventually comes home, wherever home ends up to be.

Yes, I’ll likely buy a lottery ticket just before the new year starts.  There’s no sense in wasting more money than $1.  But, despite everything that is wrong in my life, I still have hope, and still believe that this deep hole of despair of a year will not extend too far into the next.

To all who read these words, whether I know you personally, e-personally, or not at all, I wish you Happy Holidays and a happy, prosperous and joyful 2017.

A Few Words on The Upcoming Presidential Election

I have been quiet for many months on this blog.  I decided to break my silence and say a few words about the presidential election that looms before us, a mere 11 days away, and a lot of people are not going to like what I have to say.

This presidential election has been one of the ugliest I’ve seen and heard in the 41 years I’ve been voting.  The lack of integrity and honesty which has been shown, the amount of vile election games played, the lies, the dirt digging and mudslinging is appalling.  The no-holds-barred, nothing-is-sacred approach to the 2016 election of our country’s next leader angers and saddens me all in one muckraking motion.

None of the candidates running this time, and I mean NONE, deserves the opportunity to represent us to the world, deserves to make decisions on our behalf that are meant to be for our benefit.  All of them are flawed, their histories less than stellar, their attitudes and beliefs nowhere near where they need to be to lead a nation as diverse, and now divisive, as the U.S.A.

Yet, here we are with the candidates who were chosen, each party holding them up as the best they had to offer.  So, now we must choose the least objectionable from among them and hope that one of those people will rise above everything that was done to put them into office and show us that we made the right decision in electing them. 

There’s a lot to do to put things right again, for this nation to heal and become a united country that once again leads by positive design.  All we can do now is vote, wait, and hope.

The Challenge of Morning

“What’s that smell?”

“5 AM.  Let’s go.”

(From the movie Lara Croft, Tomb Raider)

I’m a morning person by nature.  I’ve been waking between 4 and 5 AM without an alarm clock for almost six decades.  That’s not to say I’m completely functional at that hour.  The days of being required to be awake, alert, oriented and hardworking in the wee hours of the morning, aka o’dark hundred, are long past and not missed in the slightest.  The waking process is now quieter, gentler, and spurred on by vitamins, a once daily medication, and a lone cup of coffee.  Okay, sometimes two cups.

Yet, on this Sunday, I was inclined to revisit my abilities to smile and be personable, string words together coherently and coordinate cognition with correct action starting at 5 AM and continuing for a few hours for a good cause.  My local Kiwanis chapter, as part of its fundraising activities, helps coordinate an annual running event now known as the Kiwanis Kingston Classic.  Dedicated runners and volunteers have been coming together with their help for the last 5 of the race’s 32-year history.  I’d thought about volunteering for this event for quite a while.  Frankly, I’d rather be running in it, but that’s not happening with these orthopedically challenged feet of mine.  So, 2016 was the year I finally decided to help out, and they seemed to have the perfect volunteer slot for me – 5:00 to 9:30 AM.  I’m awake early in the morning anyway, I thought, so why not put it to good use? 

While most people can be awake, dressed and going in a matter of minutes in an emergency or crunch-time situation, myself included, the whole greeting the day process done right takes at least an hour.  Additionally, showing up at 5 AM meant being on the road by 4:30 to get the stadium where the multiple-length races would start and end.  Doing the math, that meant getting up at 3:30 AM.  Fortunately, I recognized this requirement early enough to carry it out.  But, I had forgotten what waking one hour earlier than normal and going out into the world really meant – or felt like.

Ask anyone involved in treating sleep disorders and they’ll tell you your body and mind do not take well to messing with the normal wake-up time.  Bleary-eyed, in a fog, I did one of of my best grunting zombie impersonations in the trek downstairs.  Mmph - start the morning mud and don’t put the coffee in the water hopper before you hit the button.  Breakfast, coffee, med and vitamins were consumed without fanfare.  It was then off to wash up and pour myself into the clothes of choice which, had I bothered to check the outside temperature would have included a sweatshirt and gloves, as it was 37°F when I left at exactly 4:30 with my still wet hair.  Yeah, that helped wake me up.  Although I wondered shortly after the 3:30 alarm if I might get ticketed for DUISD (Driving Under the Influence of Sleep Deprivation  – don’t laugh, drowsy driving is real and can be very dangerous), the trip over was a fully conscious and uneventful experience.  I took in and carried out the instructions for checking in pre-registered runners fairly well, and in my final hour of volunteering I got to direct the half-marathon participants onto the running track for the final few yards of the race as well as protect them from being walked into by spectators in their path.  Most importantly for me, I got to applaud them in encouragement and support of finishing what I wish I could still do.

I had a great time this morning.  My dogs (feet) were barking, my back was yipping a bit as well, and I had to take a two-hour crash-nap this afternoon, but it was all worth it.  It was helping others, which is never a bad thing, and it was proving to myself that I can still be alive and kicking at an hour when others are still looking at the inside of their eyelids.  Will I do it again next year?  Maybe, although I think it will be a two cuppa coffee kind of morning if I do.

To Return or Not to Return – Now, There's a Question

I did my FAFSA a short time ago and found that I was eligible to receive the maximum available for a Pell grant.  Not a surprise, since that was the result last year as well.  However, I had my sights set on going to SUNY New Paltz or Empire State College for a four-year degree back then and even the maximum federal and state grants didn't cover all the costs.  I would have needed to take out student loans and I didn't want to do that. 

With only casual curiosity, I looked at the tuition costs for SUNY Ulster and found that the Pell grant covered my tuition costs completely.  I've applied for NYSHESC (aka TAP) but won't know the results of that until after the state budget is passed sometime this month.  Chances are it will cover at least half the tuition costs, leaving me a surplus in Pell to pay for my books and extra fees.  This sort of blew my mind a bit and not just because I could go back to school at no cost.  It's more the realization that I could have gone back two years ago and been finished this year had I considered the possibility of another associate's degree instead of remaining focused on a baccalaureate degree from somewhere else.

As a result of this revelation, I applied to return to SUNY Ulster, but have not yet officially declared a program because I'm undecided.  Thing is, I'm not just undecided as to program.  I'm undecided as to whether I should go back at all.

I'm going to be 59 in less than a month.  I will likely finish up any program in 1½ years with full-time study.  That puts me at 60 or 61 when I graduate, leaving 4-5 years before likely retirement.  That's not even taking into consideration the possibility of earlier bowing out due to the health issues which are starting to reveal themselves.

I had put getting my second degree from SUNY Ulster, this time in business administration, on hold a long time ago because of work conflicts, then not having enough money to go back without putting myself deep in debt, then simply not having the motivation to hit the books again in a program I had no real interest in pursuing at the time. 

Given my existing educational track record from 30+ years ago as well as my continued love of learning, I'd still likely do well in something like business administration.  However, my passion would lean more toward  pursuing a potentially less marketable liberal arts program and honing my skills as a writer/journalist.  But, in terms of increased saleability and income, is either educational path worth the time and effort in a highly competitive job market that's geared more toward younger employees?  I've already run into ageism in my employment search and in my mind, it's hard to call as to whether a second associate's degree under my belt would improve my odds.  I've often said that my first associate's degree and 75¢ would get me a lousy cup of coffee, and I'm not sure that a second two-year degree would improve on that all that much.  Yet, I would encourage anyone under similar circumstances to try it anyway.  Double standard – go and figure. 

I would like the opportunity to complete a second degree just for the sake of completing it and knowing that I could.  Many people my age and older do this.  But should a so-called bucket list degree be obtained on the government's dime simply because it can be?  Do I really want my graduation speech to be, "Thanks, Uncle Sam, for letting me get the degree of my dreams even though it has no other purpose than decorating my wall, and I can die happy now?"  Quite honestly, I have an issue with that kind of thinking both from a personal as well as social point of view.  Granted, all degrees have the potential to assist in attaining greatness.  However, I think frivolous discretionary degrees should be pursued with personal discretionary funds, something I do not have.

The final element to consider is my ability to focus and retain, which has declined.  My mind is not the steel trap it used to be when I was last in college.  I've tried studying from books and the computer in the last few years for stuff that I genuinely wanted to learn (as opposed to mandatory classes that you read, regurgitate for a test and you're done) and it was nothing like it was even 10 years ago.  I'm not saying I can't learn, but I'm not sure about the time factor required to learn it and whether it can be done in the time allowed for PELL and TAP covered expenses.

Having made all the arguments, I am no closer to deciding one way or the other on returning to school in the fall.  I still have time to decide, but I think I need to hear the opinions of others on the subject before jumping back in or walking away from the shoreline of  the metaphorical Lake Academia, possibly for the last time.

A Government Quasi-Entity Reluctantly Keeps Its Word

Back in 2014, I wrote an entry about the price of first class mail jumping from 46¢ to 49¢ and suggested that it should just jump to 50¢ and get it over with.  It would have generated more income for the postal service and also made it easier on everyone to figure out the cost of buying multiple stamps.  It would have been a win-sort of win.  Didn't happen, though.  Should have happened, though.

At the time the 3¢ increase was put in place along with other price increases for mailing and shipping services, it was stated that in 2016, the rates would drop back to where they would have been in 2014 after the normal increase that would have happened anyway to keep up with inflation.  The exigent surcharge, a fancy name for the price increase beyond the normal price increase, was meant to reduce the massive deficit which had occurred as a result of the loss of revenue to competitors and the ever-increasing costs of running the postal business.

Did the temporary increase in mailing and shipping costs help?  Some, but not enough. Our beloved US Postal Service is still running more than significantly in the red and it's not going to improve as much as was hoped for in its five-year plan.  They did quite a bit to streamline their costs and there is more to be done.  But, they still need more income.  As a result, the USPS is requesting to take back its promised fall-back pricing or, as they put it, "... to seek congressional action to reinstate and make the exigent surcharge permanent." Yes, our postal service really does have to get congressional approval for just about everything it does.  Considering that they're supposed to be a business entity now separate from the Federal government, that might be part of their problem.  But, there you are.

Whether the US Postal Service gets those price increases reinstated remains to be seen.  But, it's not going to happen immediately.  So, buy those cheaper Forever stamps at 47¢ each while the gettin's good.  They might lose $2 billion a year as a result of the roll-back pricing, but you'll save $2 on a roll of 100 stamps.

The obvious sarcasm of my last sentence regarding saving a few pennies aside, the US Postal Service's financial crisis needs to be addressed more seriously and quickly by all sides than I've seen done so far or we might end up with no postal service and no one at the ready to take their place.  Give that some thought next time you attach a stamp to an envelope to send it on its way.

My Protestor's Wisdom for St. Patrick's Day

For those who can't read my handwriting – and many can't – it reads:

Irish luck will find you the rainbow.
Making it work for you will be
up to you.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

And for those who have seen my beloved Protestor through the years, yes, this is the very first time I've drawn him in color.

A Rare Cause – My Story

             Today is Rare Disease Day, and in conjunction with it, this is my story about having one of those uncommon medical conditions.

            I have PBC.  That stands for Primary Biliary Cholangitis.  I only found out in 2015 that I have it, but it could have been there, quietly doing its not so nice thing, for some time before that.  PBC is an autoimmune disease.  That means the body is building antibodies toward itself, that the immune system for reasons unknown has gone a little haywire and is attacking me and not just that which attacks me such as germs and viruses.  While there is evidence of it running in families, not everyone gets it and they don't know what triggers it in some people and not in others.

While some autoimmune diseases are general in their attack of the body, like systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE), others take a liking to a particular type of tissue.  With PBC, it’s attacking the bile ducts of the liver.  Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?  Thing is, the liver does a lot of things and uses those bile ducts for all manner of transport of both the good and the bad of the body.  When the bile ducts come under attack, they become damaged and can’t handle the flow of anything through them as well as they did before.  Eventually, the damage closes them off and whatever the liver used to send out through them either has to find another duct or things that shouldn't be staying start to damage the other liver tissues.  The damage can be so bad and scarring can become so extensive that the liver simply can’t function and it either has to be replaced or …

Well, that’s just to give you an idea of what’s involved with this disease.  This is my story with PBC, after all, and my story with it starts kind of boringly.  I was due for the less than wonderful procedure of colonoscopy.  I've had the procedure before and trust me, the prep is the worst part.  Anyway, I found a new GI doctor because my old GI doctor didn’t take my health insurance.  The new GI doctor was looking over my most recent blood test results and noticed that one test was ever so slightly out of normal range.  Most doctors would look at the value and not really think twice about it.  I am overweight and this particular test, alkaline phosphatase, can be a little elevated in the, shall we say, full-figured population.  But, the elevated results could also indicate more serious things going on and my new GI doctor, just to be on the safe side, ordered a few more tests.  We were both pretty sure that everything was going to come back normal.  We were wrong.

Of the tests that he ordered, the two which were indicators of an autoimmune disease, anti-nuclear antibody (ANA) and anti-mitochondrial antibody (AMA) came back positive.  Mind you, this doesn’t mean you have something, it only means that you have a positive blood test for it, especially when you have no symptoms to make the medical alarm bells and whistles go off and I was one of those symptom-free people. 

Now, you can wait and see if anything develops, or you can have imaging done (ultrasound, MRI, CT scan) which may or may not show anything if it’s early in the game, or you can get right to it and have a liver biopsy.  While I wasn’t keen on being blissfully sedated while they stuck a large needle into my liver after a CT scan told them where to properly poke, I’ve always been one who wants to know what’s going on and so I chose Option #3.

Cut to about a month and a half later when, following insurance approval, additional testing and finally the biopsy itself, I learned I had this thing called PBC.  About the only thing I liked about it was that it was rare.  I like to think I’m unique and having a condition that occurs in less than 1% of the world’s population really kind fit into my self-perception of being somehow special.  It’s also something of a female thing without being related to female parts, as the ratio of women to men with this condition is about 9 to 1.  Well, go, Girl Power.  However, I could enjoyed being a girl without this rarity.

The more I read initially about PBC, the more it frightened me.  My liver would slowly get chowed on by this disease and I had all the less than happy things that go with liver damage to look forward to.  Being in allied health fields for many years, I pretty much knew what that meant, too.  There is no cure for PBC and no treatment guaranteed to help with the problems.  I might even become a candidate for liver transplant somewhere down the line.  I might have a normal lifespan or I might have considerably less, depending on how quickly things progressed.  Etc., etc., etc.  Scary stuff.

As time has gone by, though, I’ve come to terms with this PBC beastie.  I am presently at Stage 1 of the disease (there are 4) and except for feeling bone-tired a little too often for my liking, I’m still pretty much symptom-free.  Fatigue is actually the most common complaint of PBC, so I’m in good company.  Specialists with a good working knowledge of my condition are few and far between; closest location for me is New York City, 100 miles away.  My GI doctor said he’d see me in a year, and I think my primary care doctor would prefer that I make treks to a hepatologist (liver disease doctor) rather than rely on him for answers and care for this problem.  My PCP is probably right, as most doctor’s knowledge of primary biliary cholangitis isn’t much more than knowing what it is.  But I’m a creature of habit and comfort and until I have more problems, I’m staying local.  I’m not presently on any medication for PBC, which works out well since I’m barely good with taking vitamins.  I eat a balanced diet and I exercise regularly, and those wellness steps are the best defense with any medical condition.

I also found great resources and great support in the land of the internet.  Through my own medical intelligence gathering efforts, as well as the resources of such wonderful organizations as PBCers.org, I keep abreast of what’s available and what could become available, including medicines to not just alleviate symptoms, but actually slow the progress of the disease. 

Perhaps at some point, they will be able to stop PBC and other autoimmune diseases in their tracks.  I would love for that to be in my lifetime, even if it happens on my last day on the planet.  Until then, life goes on and I will try to enjoy it to the fullest.  I could have 20 years or 20 days.  PBC could be culprit of my demise or I could get run over by a bus.  There’s no way of knowing for certain what lies ahead and that's perfectly normal and perfectly fine by me.

For more information about this and other rare diseases, please start your journey at http://www.rarediseaseday.org.

A Rare Cause

February 29^th is Rare Disease Day.  It’s a globally recognized day to raise awareness for literally thousands of medical conditions which aren’t common among the general population.  There are conferences, meetings, and sharing of stories to help bring to light what less than 10% of the entire world’s population has an issue with.  For those who love their numbers, that’s about 7 thousand medical disorders spread out over slightly less than 740 million people and not evenly, either.  Even distribution would mean a little over a 100,000 people with each condition and that’s just not the case.  Yes, there could be that many with such a rare medical condition, sometimes even more.  But sometimes, it’s less than 100 people in the entire world, and even occasionally less than a handful of people who have one of these uncommon health maladies.

Some of the conditions are obvious to the untrained eye, others not so much.  Some make themselves known at birth, others kick in over time.  What these folks have to live with day-to-day varies.  Sometimes, their problems are mild, tolerable, possibly even treatable.  Other times, the impact of the condition is severe, has little or no treatment available, and can alter an entire existence by its impact.  Lifespans can be relatively normal, but often they’re shortened, certainly shorter than they or their loved ones expected and wanted.

As an individual with one of the later-onset rare diseases, I encourage you to join in, learn more, and support the efforts of Rare Disease Day to help all of those affected and to encourage research and treatment in the years to come.

Click here to read my rare disease story (to be posted on 2/29/16).

Required - Poetry for a Sunday Morning

We walk

Side by side

Our hands skim

No words are spoken

They are not required

We dine

A favorite place

Our eyes meet

No words are spoken

They are not required

We kiss

Our secret spot

Lovers entwined

No words are spoken

They are not required

In our lifetime together

So much has been said

Actions speak loudly

But when words are spoken

They are always required

Lauren Swartzmiller

© 02/14/2016

The Big Chill Down

As I type this, the cold front which is allowing bone-chilling, dangerously cold air to ooze down from more northern regions of the planet has already passed through.  Under normal circumstances, the warmest part of the day in my area would be somewhere between 12 noon and 2 PM.  Today, the warmest part of the day was around 3 AM, when it was still about 22°F.  By 2 PM today, the temperature will be about 12°F, and by this time tomorrow, we will be rebounding (I hope) from temperatures that were below 0°F during the night.  Brr, baby.

In the summertime, we would actually be appreciative of what amounts to a 20-30° cool-down, a lower humidity, and a good strong breeze to usher it all in.  Not so much this time of year.  Like many, I’m not a fan of weather that’s over 80°F with a similar percentage of humidity.  But,  anybody who complains about the heat of summer by missing winter has already forgotten the temperatures that are coming tonight.

There should be no lynch mob forming for Punxsutawney Phil or any other woodland creature used to predict when the vernal equinox will be at hand, at least not yet.  He predicted an early spring and it may still happen.  A shot of cold air is bound to happen between February 2^nd and March 20^th  of any year.  It’s if it continues, if the cold air doesn’t disappear and we see more wet and white winter weather, that Ground Hog Phil, our Pennsylvania Prognosticator, should be concerned that people might checking out their cookbooks for wild game recipes.

I will finish this on a serious note – look out for those at risk in this type of weather.  From people to pets, no one should be exposed to the cold, and not just tonight, either.

And the Frenzy Ends

I awoke this morning as I fell asleep last night, a working class woman dependent on the paycheck I get on Friday.  I suspected this was going to be the case, so I wasn't disappointed, just $2 poorer.

The $1.6 billion dollar Powerball jackpot numbers were matched by three tickets sold in three states – California, Florida and Tennessee.  Hard to say whether the people who won are aware of their changed life status or not, as no one has come forward yet.  Shock, joy, sharing of joy, and maybe a little bit of planning and preparation for what's ahead before we learn who they are, perhaps.

I genuinely wish whoever they are continued happiness and hope they do wonderful things with the money for the people and world around them.

We now return to normalcy and life at the grindstone.

Let the Frenzy Re-Commence

Yes, I bought a ticket for that silly fantasy-indulging game for January 9.  One ticket.  I rarely buy lottery tickets in the first place and I don't normally play Powerball because it galls me to put out $2 to be disappointed yet again.  But, I did – and I was.  Disappointed, that is.

But then, so was everyone else who expected to win over $900 million.

When I looked this morning at the gaming site's main page, I saw 1.3.  Despite what I knew to be the case, it seemed so paltry.  Then, my coffee-deprived brain took in the word 'billion' and put the 8 zeroes after the 3 and it became

$1,300,000,000.  

Yeah, that was better.

Now, try and keep in mind that's the total amount to be received if you take it as a 30-year annuity payout.  That's $43.3 million a year, before taxes, over the next 30 years.  If you're thinking you won't last that long and you don't want your estate to have to deal with it, or think the financial entity that makes those payments won't last that long, or you're just impatient and want it all NOW, the lump sum payout, again before taxes, is $806 million.  Regardless of which option is taken, it's more than most make and live on in a lifetime.

I keep bringing up taxes.  The IRS and the state where you live will come for their piece of your lottery pie first and you have no choice but to allow them to cut and serve themselves a slice. Between them, they're going to take about a third of the pie, give or take a piece of crust or dollop of filling.  That means you would net and have to survive on approximately $530 million as a lump sum or $28.5 million a year as a 30-year annuity payment.  You might be able to whittle the tax numbers a little with some savvy financial maneuvering, but the reality is that you don't get to play with the whole amount regardless of what you do.

I haven't even discussed the odds of winning because that's not what fuels any lottery game.  What fuels it is the dream of a better life beyond expectation and no one wants to hear that their chances of winning are closer to none than slim.

So, let the Powerball ticket buying insanity begin again.  By Wednesday, the amount to win will be higher than today's $1.3 billion.  Will someone win it?  Who knows?  I was sure that with the amount of people playing and the amount of tickets they were buying, every combination of numbers would have been played by Saturday's drawing.  I was wrong, so apparently not all the combinations of numbers and red ball numbers were played.  Who would have thought.

I was also sure that I wouldn't win and I was right.  Will I buy a ticket for Wednesday's drawing?  Yes.  Just one because it still galls me to pay $2 to be disappointed.  But despite the 17 billion to 1 odds, for $2 even I still can dream big.

Good luck to all.