That Little Shit

I had a brother named John, who sadly, passed away quite a few years ago. Anyway, he used a term rather frequently; which is often enough that it has remained in my lexicon all these many years. John would call various creatures and even humans “that little shit” with varying degrees of disdain, amusement, and even affection.  This included everyone and anyone, anyone younger than he, family pets, it could be a long list.

my 6 pound tiny dog

The point of this is that I think of John every time I call my tiny dog “little shit” – usually with a combination of affection, amusement and frustration.  

I always think, too, of those who would find this repugnant, and laugh at them, because they are not aware that I even had a brother John.  And I think that John would laugh at them too. Lighten up!, and have a little sense of amusement.

It has to do with how we were raised, or rather who had a hand in raising us.  Even though we were from totally different generations, and what parts of that person became ingrained in our unique personalities.

Anyway, I think of my brother John, frequently with a certain fondness, for he was always kind to me.  I wish I could have a conversation with him.  There was never time.  Thankfully I did have some wonderfully honest conversations with his wife, another person who was always kind to me.

a song about a dog

She is a little shit! She's mischevious, and trouble. She's little, and she knows she's adorable, and she will look you right in the eye and let you know that she knows exactly how adorable she is.  That little shit!💗

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Say their name. Speak their story.

 

Edward

Valera

Betty

Marge

Elsie

Lillian

Mamie

Emma

Fritz

Sandy

Traci

Cliff

Carmen

Emily

Doris

Lisa

Sybil

Bobby

David

Verna

Valerie

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…some I held close,

…. some I conversed with…

…some I knew well,…

…..some I wish…..

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Carnivore for health

From a social media post of mine:

I know you all are probably tired of all posts I share about Carnivore and health.  This is more of the same....

This is my story:

I was diagnosed with Celiac disease in 2011. I struggled with that for a long time for several reasons...but ultimately, even being 99% gluten free, I was not getting better.  Yes, after all this time. Partly because doctors either do not listen, or do not care because they don't benefit from people being healthy.

Fast forward to 2023.  I finally managed to get in with a functional medicine clinic. It still took a few months, partly because they started treating me for conditions other than digestive issues.  Finally in 2024 I had an appointment with their Health Coach, and she recognized some of my symptoms.  They had me tested for SIBO (small intestine bacterial overgrowth) and the result was positive for methane SIBO.  SIBO is a nasty illness, tough to fight, possibly incurable.

After months of fighting SIBO by the recommendations of both the functional medicine clinic and a regular gastroenterologist clinic; I finally came across something different from their recommendations.

It's like you have to be 100% realistic, skeptical of Western medicine, and ready to try something radical in its simplistic return to the ways of our ancestors.  If you are not sick the doctors and hospitals don't make money - they are businesses, and they need to keep you sick so they can profit from it.

All artificial sweeteners are bad, they cause cravings, and medical issues.  But we are lied to that they are "safe" because if we're not sick doctors and hospitals don't make money.  I cannot stress this enough.

Carnivore.  That means no vegetables, no sugars or sugar substitutes, no grains, no fruit .. limiting certain dairy items.  And most of all locally sourced meat, eggs, and fats from a real butcher shop.  (Avoiding the grocery store can be an important step to achieving healthier eating.) note that I cut out all sugar substitutes and nearly all sugar about 6 months ago.

I am sharing this now because of what I have experienced in the last 36 hours.

Scheduled for a colonoscopy, I followed the gastro clinic instructions for the prep: 2 -10 ounce bottles of magnesium citrate, and a minimum of 28 ounces of Gatorade.  Both magnesium citrate and Gatorade contain sucralose.  Sucralose is a sugar substitute and, despite any information you may find: Sucralose is NOT safe.

All artificial sweeteners are bad, they cause cravings, and medical issues.  But we are lied to that they are "safe" because if we're not sick doctors and hospitals don't make money.  Medicine is big business and they don't care who gets hurt.

I was massively ill the night before the procedure, after consuming about 36 ounces of the 48 ounces required....  I was still ill from that this morning.  This evening, 8+ hours after the procedure, I feel like hell.  I had a meal after the procedure of a meaty skillet and bacon at a diner. I slept all afternoon and I am going to be going full on carnivore from here on.  After this experience with the sucralose I am ready.

Research carnivore.  It's a healthier way.

Here are links to a couple of Facebook people who are knowledgeable about Carnivore:

The Carnivore Gal

Carnivore Dad

note: As I prepare to share this blog post it has been 6 days since I drank the sucralose containing liquids, and I am still experiencing vertigo at times, sometimes severe enough that I nearly vomit. I have experienced this before, several years ago I had the same reaction to aspartame.  More than likely it will take a few weeks for this to pass.  I have learned my lesson – NO artificial sweetener is safe.

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added 6/7/25:

I didn't worry about the budget because I stopped buying the stuff that wasn't Carnivore....also I eased into Carnivore.  Rather than trying to make a drastic sudden change, I started by quitting almost all sweeteners except real sugar and then I worked on cutting down on the amount of sugar in a day, then I started eating beef, eggs, or bacon as my main meal of the day, I started fasting more hours a day.  My pain and inflammation have gone down drastically, and after many weeks of tinkering with my diet I have lost a few pounds.  Everyone is different...I am okay with slow weight loss - as long as the excess weight comes off.

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you can't have everything

I have reached a place where I feel like I am experiencing a reawakening of sorts. I feel more alert, alive, and aware.

Now that could be caused by some of the vitamins or supplements I take, as I change them up from time to time.  And I may have added something my body was lacking.

It's new energy.  It follows changes at work that lay a bit more responsibility on my shoulders.  Being super busy, and challenged at the job can be energizing too.

I don't have a memory of feeling more accepted by coworkers.  I mean a general cross section of fellow employees.  From the manufacturing guys to the president of the company; I feel accepted by these folks.  Despite the fact that I honestly do miss my former supervisor here, I am realizing that I may actually be happy here.

.... work's great ... home? not. so. much.  Oh well, you can't have everything.

I have more energy, and less aches and pains.  This is mostly due to diet and supplements.

I am doing modified carnivore again, which means that I eat mostly beef, which I am actually starting to crave.  I have been consuming far less sugar and almost no carbs these past few months.  I have not lost weight, but I feel better.  There is less inflammation, less pain; except that right knee... but I have not had a medical treatment for it in over 7 months. 

Anyway. that's the state of things in my life as we await a new administration in the United States of  America on January 18, 2025.

HERE IS A FUNNY:

THIS MADE ME LAUGH! -
IT'S EXACTLY HOW I WANT MY JOB TO BE

For years I have told anyone who asked 

that I want a job where there's ALWAYS something to do.  

I love to be busy at my job.

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The Turtle story

 It was a Friday morning when I came upon the turtle. 

I had left the house early, planning on arriving at work an hour early to make up for time taken off earlier in the week.

The drive was not terribly different from any other day, for the first mile or so. What I call a mile or so includes a major intersection followed by a winding road and a left turn to follow Bell School Road. 

The roads deserted I made the left turn and saw, on down the way, something dark in the roadway.  I wondered what is was as I noticed that it moved slightly.  Approaching slowly it finally became clear that the thing in the road was a fair-sized turtle.  Damn.  It’s crossing where the creek runs under the road through a culvert.  Why couldn’t it traverse the culvert!

I can’t simply drive around the thing,.. shortly the road will be swarming with morning commuters who think that they can drive as fast as they please.  I travel this way myself; twice every week day.  I do not want to see the turtle flattened and in view every day …

Since the roads are deserted here I stop the car, jump out, and approach the creature.

“Move!” I command it, knowing that won’t help at all, as the turtle stopped moving as soon as I stopped the car.

This turtle is not tiny – at least a foot across the shell – this would probably damage a car with low clearance. 

I reach down and start to grab and it jerks it’s head violently and snaps!  A snapping turtle, eh? Okay then, I will need to be quick.

I grab the thing on both sides, as far back from the head as possible, and rush to the other side of the road – the direction the turtle was heading when I arrived.  I toss it lightly into the deep grassy vegetation on the roadside and hurry back to my car.  A school bus has just turned onto this road and is approaching.

Quickly I get into the car, turn off the hazards, and then I realize that my hands stink from touching a damp creature,..holding onto it tightly, GROSS!!  I try some hand sanitizer as I drive slowly on toward the red light intersection.  No, that’s not good enough; I grab 2 tissues from the box on the passenger seat and use them to grip the steering wheel.  It’s a couple of miles to the nearest place where I can wash my hands.  Arriving at the new QuikTrip I rush inside and thankfully the ladies restroom is right by the side entrance – I wash my hands for several minutes, more than once.

Arriving at work several minutes later, I immediately go to the restroom and wash my hands again.  Oh what a stink that was!

And that is the story of the turtle.  June 7, 2024

Gloves ! haha! if only there had been time for that -- or time to think about taking a picture.

Alas, there are no shoulders on that road, no place to get out of the roadway.  

Sorry - no picture of the actual turtle I moved.  As for size, as best as I can remember my thumbs were not close to each other when I gripped the creature, there were at least 3 or 4 inches between my thumbs, and it was not terribly heavy.  I think that it was kind of shocked that I picked it up, it didn't do more than snap again as I was preparing to drop it.

It looked this this, but the one I moved was smaller than this.

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Smoking

 The girl, Margie, was only 14 years old.  She had started smoking at age 12, because her cousin Sheila, 3 weeks younger than her, smoked. 

“What brand do you smoke?” Sheila asked with a smirk, and a wink at her friend Shelly.

“Kools.” Margie replied too quickly.  She just said the first thing that popped into her mind.

The other two girls made a face at each other.

“Well, we can smoke Kools while you are visiting.” Sheila replied.

…….

So, now, at 14, and smoking Marlboro cigarettes, Margie had never actually inhaled while smoking.  This is about the day she decided to inhale.

Margie left the house early and walked behind the school located next door.  At the back of the building, out of sight of the street, she pulled the pack of Marlboros out of her jeans, drew one out of the pack, and lit it off a match.

Margie sat down on the low mound of earth and inhaled deeply.  Almost immediately it made her head spin.  The vertigo was extreme and frightened her badly.  She thought of Susan Hayward, the actress who had died from a brain tumor. Then Margie tried to stand up, but the vertigo got the better of her and she sat back down, afraid that she was going to vomit.  She looked at the cigarette in disgust, and broke the lit end off, stuffing the remainder of the cigarette back into the pack. 

She thought, “Oh my God, I’m dying!” and “what will I tell mother?”

She remained sitting on the low mound of earth for several minutes, and finally the vertigo passed.  After several minutes it dawned on her that inhaling the cigarette smoke had caused the vertigo. No one had ever told her that inhaling would have that effect. 

Feeling better with the vertigo passed, she got up and started heading for home.  

That was more than enough adventure for one day.

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www.quitassist.com/5-keys-for-quitting.

and I won't tell your name

Warmth.

Loving tender caresses each upon the other.

We were one once.

Holding hands was everything, my beautiful love.

In another life, long in the past.

I miss you.

In past lives.

I have loved you for a thousand years.

The dynamic is altered in different lives lived.

sometimes lovers, sometimes family

different each time.

Why were we separated.

I will search for you across all eternity.

Love never dies.

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I just want you to know who I am

"I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand"

I won't tell your name

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"I have died every day waiting for you"

a thousand years

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sometimes sweet 

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About the Deep Thaw-ts blog

I have had this blog Deep Thaw-ts for over 10 years now... very nearly 11 years.

There is a variety of articles here: some long and rambling memories of my past life, and some short, lyrical (or not) poems, or heartfelt reminiscences.  

For the long, rambling posts: I thank you for your patience.

For the short, poetical posts: I thank you for being a fan.

When I think about this blog, and the varying posts I think that what is written is coming from where my personality (personalities?) are on a given day.

Believe me, when real inspiration hits: I run with that, and do my damnedest to not turn it into a long and rambling tirade/dissertation.

What comes is what comes, and I am well aware that less is more, as they say.

If something I have written has somehow helped you: God Bless.

If I have offended you: too bad, get over it. This is who I am.

If I have not offended you: please be patient as I will get to you eventually. 😉😎

{if you mistakenly came to this place thinking that Deep Thaw-ts 

is something other than "deep thoughts - defrosting my brain cells" 

- shame on you, and you deserved to be disappointed}

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Winter weather

 It's the big storm.

It stole in during the wee hours, when we were asleep.

Quietly the snow dusted everything. Then the big, wet snowflakes fell, still silent for awhile.

The wind kicked up, just a little, but still the snow was quiet.

Cold, I stole up the stairs and lay under the comforter on the bed. Calming warmth.

Later I woke to the not unpleasant sound of snowblowers working to recover the world. The gentle bleat of the plow backing into driveways becomes rhythmic to the melody of the blowers, and the gentle percussion of shovels touching pavement.

Winter is upon us.

Next: the deep freeze.

The Final Saturday of 2023

 It is a typical Saturday morning for me; awake too early, in the cold morning bedroom.  I spend too much time on the hair, braiding it, deciding I did a good job, and taking the usual blurry photos to remember it by.  More time is wasted as I edit the photos that no one else is likely to see. 

By the time I get down the stairs there is little time before I must leave. I have some of the overnight oats that is prepared and ready to drink, put on my shoes and jacket, and head out.  I heft the computer bag into the back seat of the car, and lower myself into the driver seat.  The drive is uneventful as usual, with the exception of a “Dudley Do-right” who cannot go a whit over the speed limit for a section of my drive.  I usually average around 4 mph over the speed limit on days like today – when I am feeling that I left the house a couple minutes late.

Despite anything I arrive in the library parking lot a full 5 minutes before they open.

Sitting in the car I leave the engine running for heat and to listen to the rest of the song- out of respect for a long-gone group who only had 2 records climb the charts – according to the dj.

The Tremeloes sing Silence Is Golden as I wait in the car for the song to finish.  Two minutes before the library opening, I get out of the car, haul the computer bag out, and head toward the doors.

 

A voice says, “Good morning.”

I turn to look along the lockers to the bench and see a man sitting there. 

He is eating spaghetti out of a foil package.  The strands of spaghetti pasta have the reddish tinge of marinara sauce as they dangle off his fork on the way to his mouth. He is hunched over, leaning toward his meal.

“Why is it so cold?” he asks me.

I reply, “because it’s Illinois.”

He chuckles and keeps eating his meal.

It was the warm, friendly repartee one has with a stranger on the street in passing.

It was the kind of interaction I live for.

It is the kind of interaction I do not get enough of, and I consider talking to the man some more, while I think about who eats spaghetti out of foil, outdoors in the cold weather.  Probably a homeless person.  Nothing against him for whatever his reason is for what he is doing.  I decide that we both had enjoyed our tiny conversation and let it go.  That part: the letting it go, that is what makes these interactions so special.

The Tremeloes: Silence is Golden

from October 2023

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The F-350 Tailgate

 Texas. March 2010.

After spending an awful winter in Iowa, freezing our butts off, we got the call that we were going to work in Texas.  The technicians there quit abruptly, leaving the hearing van at the Amarillo airport.

I was informed by the manager of the fleet department that we would need to remove the tailgate from a Ford F-350 dually pickup truck.  I laughed.  “me and Lora? …2 girls?” I laughed again.  He told me that we would have to find someone to help us.  There were no further instructions.  We had absolutely no idea how one goes about removing a tailgate from a pickup truck.

The problem with the tailgate was that the trailer hookup was a fifth wheel in the bed of the pickup, and there was not good clearance between the tailgate and the doghouse of the trailer.  In order for us to be able to leave the trailer at job sites and drive the pickup for personal use the tailgate would need to be removed or be at risk of damaging the tailgate or the hearing van.

 

We flew to Dallas, there to change planes and fly to Amarillo.  At Dallas, they wanted us to give up our seats on the booked flight for the “bonus” $400 credit to fly another day, and they would get us to Amarillo the next day.  I refused because our checked bags were going to Amarillo without us, and I wasn’t going to spend the night without my luggage. This was the middle of a long travel day for us, and I just didn’t want to deal with this.

Flying into Amarillo we looked out of the airplane windows, hoping that we would see the hearing van parked at the airport.  No luck, we didn’t fly over the parking area.  We collected our checked bags and set out for the parking lot, wondering just how far we would have to drag all of our stuff.  We were discussing this when I saw an airport police officer.  I asked him if he happened to know where we could find a large pickup truck with a trailer attached to it – and he knew where it was!  Way out at the far end of the parking lot, and which way we needed to go to get there. One problem solved.

 

later that March, somewhere in North Texas

We got in the hearing van, inspected the situation, and secured our luggage in there, then headed to the hotel.  Parking at the hotel was not optimal… we pulled in and thought we would wait for morning to try to negotiate the narrow driveway around the back of the building.  Checked in to our rooms, but the need to move the vehicle into position for ease of leaving in the morning nagged at me, along with the problem of how to remove the tailgate from the pickup truck. 

I went out and walked around the hotel to see what that driveway around the building looked like.  It was going to be a slow go.  Rather than struggle in the early morning hours I decided to get the vehicle around the building and positioned for a quick getaway.  The driveway was not actually wide enough, and the trailer/van wound up over the curb in the dirt, but I made it around the building.

As I checked my parking job, and made sure everything was secure another Ford dually pickup truck arrived in the parking lot.  I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask… so I approached the man and explained that we needed to know exactly how to remove a tailgate… and the gentleman kindly demonstrated on his own vehicle by showing me what we would need to do to release the tailgate. (It never hurts to ask.)

The next morning, we arrived at the job site with time to spare, and little Lora (all of 5’3” and probably 100 pounds soaking wet) and I unhooked the trailer from the truck with the tailgate open, as she held it so that it would not slam down or hit the trailer.  Lora stood by while I lifted the tailgate slightly to release the side cables.  Then we lifted the tailgate as if to close it and released the cable – just like the man at the hotel had demonstrated for me.  Voila! The tailgate was released from the back of the truck.  The two of us lugged that heavy tailgate up into the trailer, and stuck it in the doghouse/closet, and that was the beginning of our grand Texas adventures.

 

with photoshopped horns at our hotel in April


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What I like about Texas

 

Winter 2010 … (part 2) more Iowa stories

interesting places...

I learned that my co-worker Lora collected buttons – old buttons – actually more specifically the cards that buttons used to be attached to for sale.  Those cards have intricate and amazing art on them! Lora asked if we could visit antique stores and antique malls to look for button cards.  Okay by me, because every such store is a visit to the past – a past I still remember.  It was memory lane time for me, because my parents were older, and their friends were older, and I can find, in every antique shop, some visage of the past from someone or others house I remember visiting as a child.  Such memories are a comfort to me, as they were some of the happiest and most peaceful hours of my childhood. Sitting on some Asian-patterned carpet, quietly listening to the adults talk about things long past.

So into the antique shops we went. Any time we had extra time to spare. I remember chatting with antique shop owners about various items they had for sale… and did they list any of it on eBay? I recommended a few of them that way – try listing on eBay to move items that are desired by folks far away from Iowa, who will pay a decent amount for certain collectibles.

Thus somewhere in Iowa I found a spoon rest that matched one my mother owned, but this one was not broken…

 

This was only part of our adventures in Iowa.

One snowy Saturday morning in February Lora and I made the trek from the Sioux City area to Vermillion, South Dakota, to the National Music Museum.  Quite an interesting place for any music lover... everything from antique violins to electric guitars, and accordians, pianos.. anything and everything music.

The National Music Museum, Vermillion, SD

Another Saturday, in Columbus, Nebraska we visited a local library for a concert by digeridoo and zither. We happened upon the advertisement while perusing the local newspaper during breakfast. Lora asked if we could go, and why not!  It was educational and the sounds were amazing.  A winter afternoon well spent.

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Additional to the button card collecting:

Later Lora and I were in an antique "mall" somewhere in Texas... Lora was perusing a bin of vinyl record albums from the 1950s and 1960s when I walked over and noticed a sign on the wall above the bin.  I drew Lora's attention to the sign: "Estate sale button collection available.  1,000s of buttons." and below the text a phone number. 

We immediately adjourned to the pickup truck, where Lora made the call-- and we were off to a private home where we spent some 3 hours looking at thousands of old buttons.... and Miss Lora spent a little money on some really cool button cards and buttons.

sorry, no photos... 

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up next: getting to Texas....

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Winter 2010: Iowa COLD (part 1)

 Winter 2009-2010

Late December 2009:  Word comes down that one of the hearing technicians has a health issue and will be seeking treatment in 2010.  His wife will continue to work so that they don’t lose their health insurance. She and I will work together. 

This is my job. I am a member of the fleet department of a national hearing testing company. (OSHA mandated hearing testing in industry.) It is part of my job to work with technicians and/or cover for technicians who are on an excused absence.  This is not my first rodeo.

Lora and I converse by telephone.  We are to go to the nearest hearing van in early January. We will retrieve the hearing van from a local truck repair yard and make our way toward Iowa for the duration. We do not know how long we will work together.  We will meet at Lora’s daughter’s house in a western suburb of Chicago, spend the night there, and make our way to the hearing van in the wee hours of a cold January day.

generic photo

Lora’s daughter graciously invites me to share their evening meal.  She opens a cabinet door and invites me to add whatever spices I like to her delicious (without the spices) stew, while pointing at her mother and announcing, “meet Mrs. Bland.”  Lora doesn’t like spicy foods, but will refrain from adding any spices at all, including salt and pepper. At the time I did not like spicy, but realistically did add onion, garlic, salt, pepper, as needed to whatever I was eating. As we would be dining together frequently for the foreseeable future this lesson was necessary.  Noted: “Lora does not like spices.”  Working together is about getting along, so I just kept that mental note, and hoped for the best.

On to Iowa, not without the occasional hiccup. Cold weather, normal January, not above 27F the entire month, except for one day in Cedar Rapids. It was a Saturday, and it was 34F, and everyone was walking around without coats! Because that is what winter is like north of the 40^th Parallel… oh, did I mention that our heater in the van wasn’t working?  It was a small propane furnace, and we could not get it to light.  We were relying on small space heaters for any heat or comfort at all.  It was COLD and it was horrible!  One place near Cedar Rapids we parked inside a warehouse, and it got the van and heater warm enough to light – heat at last! I broke a rule and drove to the next testing site with the heater in the van turned on.  Heat for a day! And then we froze again. Then, someplace in northwestern Iowa, at a grain processing plant a safety director took pity on us and arranged for extra electrical cords to be run out to the hearing van so we could run the electric space heaters and keep it at a toasty 60F in the van for 3 days.

This all comes with travels back and forth across Iowa.  I do not remember from where we came, but heading for Des Moines in a raging snowstorm.  Doing about 35mph on Interstate 80, because no one could go faster without losing control of their vehicle.  I found that ANY change in speed caused the trailer to slide sideways,… so 35mph we went, westbound, for over an hour. At our exit there was a jackknifed semi on the overpass, but no matter, as we were going the other direction from there.  The next customer would not let us plug the tractor in over night, it was snowing heavily, and we got the last hotel room available in Ankeny, Iowa.  I mean THE LAST single hotel room, and found ourselves forced to share a room for the first, and only time in our travels together.  Yes, a normal hotel room with 2 beds in it. Okay, we made the best of it, at least it was just us two gals.  We watched the weather channel to keep up on what was going on, and fell asleep with the television on.  Awakening around 2:30am, I suggested that we go out for a drive and see what the situation really was.  And it was this: I-35 northbound was ice covered, and looked like a mirror.  The nearest rest area was full up with semis, prohibiting any more vehicles from entering there.  We made our way to the next exit and turned around. Back to the hotel, where I called my supervisor and told him that there was no way I was going to even attempt to get to the next job, even if we could start the tractor, which was an unknown at that moment. Okay, he got off the call, and called the scheduling director to discuss… they called our next job location and the safety director there said: “tell them not to come.”  So we quickly got the call instructing us to stay put for a while, then proceed to our next scheduled job in Nebraska the following afternoon.  We napped for a while. Then back to the hearing van, at the customer from the previous day– snowed in, and dead engine due to the cold.

generic photo, not even the U.S.

Penske sent a guy out and he got it started. On to Nebraska, which is another story.

Finally, near the end of February we got the call we were waiting for: “you’re going to Texas”.

Hallelujah! We’re leaving winter behind!

 

Tune in next week for more adventures with Suzanne and Lora, and Lora and Suzanne.  Jirl Power!  wink wink!

this was just the "bare bones" of the Iowa 2010 adventure.... there were details.... 

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refer also to my previous blog post "baby. it's COLD outside (memories of previous cold winters)" from January 5, 2018, where mention is made of Iowa in January.

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