Of Hearing and Comprehension by Konnie Enos

Recently my husband has been annoying me with a habit of his.

As a rule, the man cannot hear me when I try to talk to him. Even when we are in the same room I often have to yell to get his attention. Either that or go right up to him and tap him on the shoulder. We already know he’s deaf.

No. His annoying habit is repeatedly asking me what I said.

Repeating myself is one thing. Being asked to repeat myself when I hadn’t said anything is another altogether.

I’ll be sitting here quietly minding my own business. Then out of nowhere he’ll get up from his desk and ask me what I needed, or why I called to him, or just what I said.

I seriously hadn’t uttered a peep.

I suppose I find this so annoying simply because he generally can’t hear me the rest of the time. Either he doesn’t answer or his response makes it obvious he didn’t actually hear what I said.

His favorite stunt is I’ll call the name of one of our children and he’ll respond claiming I called his name. Which actually irritates me because when I do call his name I have to yell it at the top of my lungs at least three times for him to hear me, yet I can call my kids in a normal voice, and he not only hears me but hears his name.

Then there is situations like at the dinner table last night. The kids and I were talking, and he commented that he was completely lost. He couldn’t follow the conversation going on around him at the dinner table.

Of course, we weren’t yelling.

My daughter especially is very sensitive to noise and gets headaches if we raise our voices.

Seriously.

I can be in my room at the back of the house and talk in a perfectly normal voice, no yelling, and she’ll hear every word from the front of the house. Then she has to either yell her answer or come to my room because I can’t pick out what she is saying otherwise.

Sometimes I don’t hear her when we were in the same room but only when there is background noise, like a fan going nearby.

I know my hearing is perfectly normal. It’s been tested.

So, the volume we use in this house to communicate is always fluctuating between yelling and whispering. But it also means it’s extra irritating when my husband hears me talking when I absolutely wasn’t talking.

Though actually talking to him can be just as frustrating because his not comprehending what is being said is far more common then him not hear us in the first place.

A recent example is a couple of weeks ago we were at church, and they announced a Christmas party for last Saturday night. Now, two Saturdays a month we go serve in the temple.

At the time he said something about us not being able to go because it was on Saturday. I pointed out to him that we had nothing scheduled.

He did not hear me. Not then or when I repeated it apparently.

I learned he hadn’t heard me last Saturday.

He’d ask me earlier in the day if I was going that day and I told him no because I had a cold. I thought he was talking about the party. He was assuming we were going to the temple.

I found this out when our son asked him when he was leaving.

It was too early in the day to go to the party, so I asked where he was going.

Apparently he was completely prepared to go to the temple. Even the kids thought he was going so I had to explain our schedule yet again.

We go the second and fourth Saturday of the month. So basically, every other week. However, sometimes there is a fifth Saturday. Rather than go every other week all the time and throw people off that way, we go the second and fourth Saturday of every month, and every other fifth Saturday. The other group does first and third, plus the fifth Saturdays we don’t. It evens out to we’re going about the same number of times each year.

Because the last Saturday of November was the fifth Saturday that we didn’t cover he was thinking we did cover last Saturday even though it was the first Saturday.

As for our kids, they just never paid attention to our schedule. They saw his stuff hanging by the door ready for him to go to the temple and thought it was perfectly normal.

So, I’ve been irritated.

On another tack. Happy birthday to my older son, just a bit early. It’s on Sunday.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Gift Lists and New Products by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

I don’t normally do product endorsements, then again, this isn’t an endorsement.

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve seen an ad for an app named “Go Wish.” The concept of this app is to aid people in finding just the right gift for another person. Perfect timing for a product launch with Christmas just around the corner, right?

The ad I saw made it look like the greatest invention ever.

The problems start with that the app doesn’t have any means to put in things like interests and hobbies. All you can enter is gender and age.

Can you see the issue?

I entered female, sixty-three, and was presently shown a nice long list of suggested gift ideas such as beauty products (all of which had some sort of floral scent), jewelry, and of all things a tan pencil skirt!

A pencil skirt? For a sixty-three-year-old woman? Not just this particular sixty-three-year-old woman but any woman of that age and maturity. Well, maybe, if she were rail thin and way into fashion, but I sincerely doubt a woman of my age would choose such a tight fit over something a lot more comfortable.

I honestly wouldn’t wear a pencil skirt when I was twenty-three and of a healthy weight, simply because pencils skirts are not built for anyone over a size of about eight. A young woman of size fourteen/sixteen would have unflattering bulges all over the place, no matter how flat her stomach, trying to wear a pencil skirt.

And I personally could never see myself trying to walk in something that tight.

And then there is the beauty products the site suggested. When I buy lotion, I look for diabetic care and unscented. I completely avoid bath bombs and lotions with any kind of sent. I barely tolerate scents in my body wash. And I would never buy any of those highly scented products simply because I can’t use them around my niece (even if I haven’t been around her in years).

The site also suggested makeup kits, makeup brush sets, and perfume.

The only perfumes I’ve ever liked the scent of was one meant for children (when I was a child) and one called, “Orchid” which I had received as a gift as a young adult. The only problem is I don’t think the stuff from my childhood is made anymore, because I haven’t seen in stores since then, and the other stuff is Hawaiian and expensive. Let alone that I do have niece who is highly allergic to the smell of most perfumes and lotions.

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t be to “Orchid” because that is vanilla, since the Orchid is where the vanilla seed comes from, but still, the perfume is ultra expensive. And why bother? It’s not like I want to attract a man.

All and all, the app showed me a master list of what not to get me for a present and, as I already said, afforded me no means to put in interests or hobbies, ergo, the list was useless.

I mean that list wouldn’t even have worked for Konnie because while it did have some jewelry on it, all of it was glittery and gaudy. Chunky gold stuff that might be all the rage but hardly correct for someone like Konnie. I’m fairly sure Konnie would say, “No thank you,” to that kind of attention catching attire as much as I would.

I just cannot fathom how anyone could think they can categorize the entire human race by only age and gender and still produce the perfect gift idea for every individual! I mean Konnie and I are identical twins, but what would be perfect gift for her, might just bomb with me.

Actually, that has happened.

Way back in college, my roommate, knowing my birthday was coming up wanted me to go window shopping with her. I didn’t know it at the time, but she wanted to see what I liked to get an idea of what to buy me as a gift.

At one point during that spree, I came upon a display of cameo jewelry, which I stopped to inspect, thinking I needed to return on my next payday to buy one for Konnie for our birthday. My roommate gifted me one of those things.

Yeah, that didn’t go over so well. I have never cared for those things. Konnie, at least back then, adored them.

And that’s because no two people are exactly alike, even if they are the same age and gender, even if they are twins. To even assume all you need to find the perfect gift is age and gender, is ridiculous to umpteenth power!

Anyway, happy writing, everyone!

Of Celebrations, Decorations, and Holidays by Konnie Enos

A week or so ago my daughter was helping me set up my nativity and Christmas Village. Because of space constraints both are generally set up in the same area. Most recently this has been the top of a dresser in our living room with a desk back-to-back with it. (One end against the wall so that it somewhat divides the room in two.)

The first issue is the desk isn’t as tall as the dresser. So, we put the two crates back there to give more height on that side.

Then we began pulling out the pieces for my village and nativity. In the process we found a few pieces that could use a bit of glue. Only one of them was from my nativity.

(Don’t worry. We knew about the issues, and I’d gotten my glue out before we started unpacking anything.)

Anyway, after I’d glued the one piece from the nativity my daughter commented on being surprised it wasn’t more since, “This this is older than I am.”

I countered with, “Clearly, since I’ve had it longer than I’ve been married.”

It is a story my children know well.

In November of 1989 my stepmother and I had been invited to one of those home parties companies that sold knickknacks and other home decorations. In their catalogue they had several items that were parts of a nativity. The creche, the holy family, the animals and shepherd, and the wisemen. All told they came to about $100. In other words, not a small bit of money.

I was working but only working part-time. I’d also already decided how much of my income I could spare for Christmas presents. With that and what I needed for regular expenses, there simply wasn’t that much to spare for the whole set unless I revised my gift budget.

I mentioned to my stepmother how much I liked that set and wanted all the pieces but wasn’t sure I should spend that much money on it. And was trying to decide if I should just get one or two pieces and hope I could afford the rest the next year. And if I did that, which pieces should I get now.

She asked me just one question. “Can you afford it all?”

I told her something about getting some pieces because it didn’t fit into my planned budget.

She asked me the same question again.

This time I told her it would cut into my gift budget.

She asked me the same question again.

I finally said, “Well, technically, but I’d have to spend less on Christmas presents.”

She finally told me. “You might not have the money to buy something this nice next year. If you really want it, then buy it all now.”

I took her advice and bought the whole set.

Less than a year later I started dating my husband and we were married literally the day after Thanksgiving. Since I was living with a roommate and he was in base housing, we had to spend a good amount of our income that month on securing an apartment for the two of us.

We had very little to spare for Christmas presents let alone an expensive decoration.

And yes, because it is ceramic, it has been battered about a bit over the years. The ox has a good chunk of one of his horns missing. One of the wisemen, and Joseph have lost their heads a few times each. And the most recent mishap was the camel losing part of one leg. And though the creche is wood, it’s also had to be re-glued together at least once.

Of course, after getting married we spent the next 10 having kids and another 3 or so years being completely broke.

I have bought several nativities since. One each for my three daughters. (Two of those really nice set that I got inexpensively from the thrift store.) (My son’s also got a small set of their own but I didn’t buy those.) And one really nice set that required multiple years to purchase all the pieces because of the cost. I know I spent more than $500 altogether.

No. I do not have that set either. But Bonnie could show you a picture of it in her living room. (I thought she should have a big, nice set since she collects nativities.)

So, If you followed my story of the nativity, you’ll figure out that this week I celebrated my 35^th wedding anniversary. (And don’t tell me how long that is because I have an aunt and uncle who have been happily married since 1959.)

And I could have just told the story of how I finally got another little brother way back in 1975, on the day after Thanksgiving. So, happy 50^th little brother.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

November Writing by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Here’s a bit of advice: when you have a blog to post, don’t start reading a new book!

I’d like to apologize for not posting two weeks ago. I wrenched my back, and I couldn’t sit up. Have you ever tried to type lying down? Not happening. Unless you want to hunt and peck, which certainly isn’t the way I was taught to type way back in my school days.

And not being able to sit up was nothing compared to not being able to stay awake, which was how I was after the doctor prescribed a muscle relaxer.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it or not, but extra-strength Tylenol can put me to sleep, at least for a little while; give me something stronger, and I’m down for the count! I spent most of last week sleeping... well, like a cat.

If you don’t know, cats can sleep up to eighteen hours a day.

So, sleeping that much last week meant I had a lot of company while doing it. Right now, I think poor Patches is wondering why I’m not sleeping as much anymore.

I’m not sleeping as much because I got too much last week!

Anyway, the good news is my back is back to normal.

The bad news is that it’s already the nineteenth of November, and I’ve managed like ten hours of writing. My goal for the month was to write for a total of 125 hours, or 5 hours 6 days a week. (I rest on the Sabbath.)

Yeah, I am not going to make it.

I can get some more work done, but I won’t make my goal.

Which would be better than the year when I ended up with a concussion on the 8^th of November, and that year I’d made the goal of 50K words for the month.

By the way, the website for National Novel Writer’s month may be defunct, but there are local groups who are continuing the challenge.

For me, the local group is backed by my local library, and they allow you to make a word count or time goal for the month. Hence, my goal of 125 hours this month. They also allow you to work on a new or current WIP.

But considering I was unable to type for several days because of back pain, and then mostly unconscious for another week, I haven’t managed much. Oh, well.

I did manage some tweaks to one of my stories, but about the time I got to the section that needed major work and a ton of “tweaks,” my back gave out.

And, like I said when our cousin Steve asked what I did to my back, “I haven’t the foggiest.”

It just started hurting, and it got worse and worse until I gave up and called the doctor.

I mean, really, if Tylenol and my trusty heating pad weren’t cutting it, I needed stronger help!

Too bad stronger help means practically comatose for me.

Konnie is lucky she doesn’t have my sensitivity to certain medications. She can take stuff I can’t.

She can take Tylenol and not fall asleep.

And I should have taken Tylenol last night. Except I wasn’t in enough pain for Tylenol, I just couldn’t sleep. And believe me, with how well Tylenol puts me to sleep, I don’t dare try something stronger!

And Tylenol will only put me out for a couple of hours. For more shuteye, I’d have to combine Tylenol, melatonin, and a mug of Sleepy Time Tea to get that effect. And again, not enough pain to warrant Tylenol.

A brain that doesn’t want to quit or a story you can’t wait to know the ending of isn’t painful, just time-consuming.

Such is the life of someone on the spectrum.

I guess the good thing I can say is that while I was awake this past week, I did some reading. Slow going with how much I was sleeping, but well, with me, it’s slow going anyhow. So, who cares?

I couldn’t write. I couldn’t even think enough to write. Writing definitely takes more brain power than reading. Unless, of course, you’re reading a textbook or Shakespeare. Both of which I have done.

I mean, I did graduate from high school, and I took some college courses. I even took a course on Shakespeare!

Then again, I was rather good at translating the Old English into modern language.

I remember one time my fellow students were trying to figure out what was being said, and I translated it before the professor could.

I just thought they weren’t using all their brain cells; it’s still English!

Okay, yeah, maybe I’m weird!

And yes, I like Shakespeare.

Anyway, happy writing, everyone!