Further proof for my knee-replacement-considering friends that my husband is truly bouncing back. He made giant bubbles with our granddaughter last Thursday—so ten weeks post op. It was a long damn ten weeks.
You can see that left knee is still a bit swollen and red, but hey…if he can do stuff like this, it’s WAAAY better.
The 6-month post-op right knee looks almost totally normal now except the scar, which isn’t too bad. The knee does “click” a bit when he walks, which is freaky but normal, according to the doctors.
He’s still not completely off the pain meds, but they’ve been put away in a drawer and I think he’ll be able to stop taking them soon. They substituted Tramadol for Oxy and he takes one only at night now. One of the tips he gives others for TKR recovery is to just take the opioids. It’s so damn painful post-op that you will not be able to do your physical therapy without them. And PT is KEY to ending up with a good working knee. And my further tip is to make friends with cannabis. That’s gonna help you need less of the hard stuff.
If you don’t live in a Recreational Weed State, then get your medical license. It’s pretty simple to do in most states. If you live in Idaho, Kansas, Nebraska or Wisconsin, then bummer for you. WTF with those states!
And yes, my granddaughter is completely adorable. She’s even cuter from the front but since my blog is public, I don’t post pics of her face.
GIANT bubbles are cool and honestly, so is my husband. Hate to admit it, but it’s true. (I always wanted to be the cool one.) There were many times when I wished I’d married more of a goody-two-shoes/nerd, but hey….we stuck it out and now we get to be grandparents together. 😊
He chooses to be called NONNO, like my late father-in-law. (That’s Italian for grandfather.) But I did not want to be called Nonna (that’s for old ladies in support hose), so I’m just a good old American GRANDMA 👵
Despite continued pain and swelling, my husband is attempting to get on with his life after two total knee replacements, the second of which took place on March 16.
Gardening is something he always liked and is good at. I’m very pro-gardening for him. I think it’s healthy and without the excessive strain and physical danger of his other hobby: powerlifting. (It’s like, you have two artificial knees dude…would you just not.) But as most people in longterm marriages know, you cannot control the other person. They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do and you gotta decide if the good outweighs the bad. (You’re free to go, if you’re not into it.)
Therefore, I’m happy to report he planted a bunch of dahlia bulbs, trimmed some shrubs, planted my spur-of-the-moment purchase of a lovely lupine in bloom, bought some clones from the dispensary, and potted up two of them as gifts for our kids. This represents a small but significant return to gardening. Yay!
My new lupine, expertly planted by my husband who got his BS in Botany.
We bought 3 types of clones at our local dispensary’s big plant sale: The Hive (Honey Banana X Papaya), Terpgasm (Sin n Juice X Udder Madness), Tail Dragger (Alligator Wine X Pearl Cadillac)
Don’t you just love the names of weed strains 🤣
Q: Why are weed plants called clones?
A: Weed plants are called “clones” because they are literally exact genetic replicas of a parent plant (called a “mother plant”). Instead of using seeds, growers cut a branch off a thriving plant and encourage it to grow its own roots.
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UPDATE: photos of my husband kneeling for my friends considering arthroplasty
Right knee was replaced November 24, 2025Left knee was replaced March 16, 2026He says it feels weird to kneel but doesn’t hurt.
End of Week One of knee replacement #2 (my husband’s not mine) and I’m pleased to report I have achieved “angel of mercy” status. Oh the power of being in charge of the pain meds!
I did slip into “Annie Wilkes mode” once, when I told my husband I had unexpectedly closed the Activity Ring on my AppleWatch “waiting on his ass.” That was mean, admittedly, but at least I was putting my service in a positive light. Turns out that running up and down the stairs to get things, lugging bags of ice, filling and lugging the “polar cube,” and doing all the daily chores myself (loading/unloading dishwasher, cooking, trash and recycling, etc) burns up a decent amount of calories. I can’t be sedentary for too long.
He’s been trying his best to be a good patient, which I appreciate, but knee replacement is really pretty gruesome. The extreme pain, the swelling, the bruising, the leg full of staples…fortunately not too much bleeding from the incision (and the in-home physical therapist deals with bandage changes—phew)
I think things will start feeling better when the staples come out next week.
In the meantime, we are bingeing The Traitors with Alan Cumming on Peacock, which our daughter got us into. It’s pretty entertaining, for a reality competition show. Who doesn’t love a Scottish castle? And Alan’s outfits are over-the-top in the best way.
A lovely bouquet from our very thoughtful daughter and her husband
It’s lasted all week—and now the tulips are opening.
I might try to paint this one very beautiful rose.
Oh and with this knee, we’ve added cannabis to the pain regime. He’s finding that a strategically timed gummy can enhance and lengthen the effect of the prescribed pharmaceuticals.
Aaah, I finally turned my husband into a stoner like me. It only took 33 years.
At certain points during his recovery from his first total knee replacement, my husband described me to others as an “Angel of Mercy.” Believe me, he is not one to toss out religious metaphors (nor am I particularly angelic), but he was in so much pain, that I apparently glowed with an angelic light and golden halo as I fetched his ice and doled out his Oxy.
Now that he feels better, but total knee replacement #2 is less than one week away, I’m wondering if I’ll achieve “Angel of Mercy” status again. Our joke is that there’s an equal chance I’ll be more of an Annie Wilkes from Stephen King’s Misery (famously played by Kathy Bates in the 1990 film) this time around. We even joke that if he totally annoys me, I’ll use the mallet we have around to break up bags of ice and the foam roller from PT to “hobble” him like poor James Caan in the film.
If you know, you know.
Given the Annie Wilkes possibility, he’s been extra helpful these past few days. Cooking, fixing stuff, and baking many loaves of his incredible homemade bread. It’s soooo good.
Perfect loaf
Fresh from the oven
The bread offering is appreciated and has been duly noted. I do love homemade bread.
Two good things have happened in my family recently. My daughter’s partner is now my official son-in-law. They tied the knot on their own at the Town Hall. I’m a little bit disappointed that I wasn’t there, but hey, at least I got a picture. My son-in-law is a good and kind person and a wonderful Girl Dad to my granddaughter. He’s also tall and good looking (never hurts).
Let’s face it, weddings are fun, but some young people and their parents spend (waste?) ridiculous amounts of money on them. Personally, I was a lifelong believer in the Princess Bride fantasy and had a traditional wedding (paid for by my parents). I think I’ve cracked open our wedding album about three times in 33 years. And I’ve never watched my wedding video. So the fact that my daughter totally skipped out on feeding “the wedding-industrial conplex” (as my friend calls the wedding biz) is OK by me.
The other good thing is that my son landed a new, better job within his company. And the really good news is that he doesn’t have to move out of state to take it! I really like his company and they seem to really like him. He started there as an intern after his junior year of college. They know him quite well and they truly seem to care about their employees. Perhaps it’s because they’re based in Sweden, where people’s happiness actually matters to employers.
I’m proud of my kids! There. I said it. I find it super annoying when people brag about their adult children on Facebook, but hey—it’s my blog and I’ll brag if I want to 😉
My son’s company sends all employees to Sweden for orientation during their first year. Now I want to go to Sweden!
My husband and I are major consumers of “prestige TV.” We get all the channels and watch all the shows. (Severance, Succession, Hacks, The Last of Us, The Bear, Handmaids Tale, etc.) We watch together and we talk about the shows. TV is our thing.
Sometimes a show is too violent for me, so I relinquish it to my husband to watch while I’m at choir or doing something else. (For example, I bailed on The Sopranos fairly early on and I never watched Breaking Bad.) I always have a few shows I’m watching on my own, because I stay up later than him. Currently, I’m watching Marie Antoinette on PBS Passport on my own. Downton Abbey is another example of a show that my husband didn’t watch with me, though he fully embraced The Gilded Age, so it’s not that he won’t watch period pieces. (We’re big fans of Wolf Hall.)
We plan our TV watching out in advance. Sometimes, a very important show—like last night’s White Lotus season 3 finale—needs to be watched live (rather than on demand) in order to avoid spoilers, which will undoubtedly be everywhere today!
We fully intended to watch the White Lotus season finale live last night, but then my husband got tired and wanted to save it. Obviously I wouldn’t watch it without him, so now I will spend the entire day trying not to read anything about it, which basically will require staying offline altogether.
So, as the stock market crashes (I’m assuming another Black Monday is underway) and people are distracting themselves by discussing whatever happened on White Lotus last night, I will try to finish reading my library book today.
Ironically, the book is Intermezzo by Sally Rooney (author of Normal People) and I could totally see it getting made into a Hulu series (like Normal People did) that I would end up watching on my own because my husband doesn’t like shows that are too “relationshipy.”
Comments closed due to abject fear of White Lotus spoilers.
My first thought when I saw this post was “no shit.” Do some women actually think they have to vote how their husbands do? (And don’t even get me started on churches. Pastors should not be telling their flocks how to vote. And if they do, they should get their nonprofit tax-exempt status revoked.)
My second thought was “how sad.” So many women are stuck in power-imbalanced marriages and feel they can’t get out.
I’ve been married 31 years and my husband (thankfully) never even entertained the idea of voting for Trump, but we’ve had plenty of other fights. Two things he’s never done is physically threaten me (even though he’s much bigger and stronger than me) or try to control what I do (even though he earned much more money than I did when we were both working).
If you’re being controlled by your husband or boyfriend—either physically or mentally—you should be making your escape plan. I firmly believe that.
And did you see that interview that Kamala did with Fox News? Infuriating! Fuck Bret Baier. Fuck him right in the ass.
My husband and I are very different. In fact, we’re almost complete opposites. He likes a lot of things that I will never ever be into like weightlifting in gyms, football and other contact sports like rugby, and hardcore (punk) music. I like a lot of things that he will never ever be into like singing in choirs, going to musicals, and swimming.
For many years, we just kind of did our own thing. I went to the beach with friends, while he stayed home and went to the gym…
But if you’re going to stay married to one person for your entire adult life, you must come up with at least a few shared activities, especially after your kids fly the coop, or you will have absolutely nothing interesting to talk about!
One of the things we both like to do is go to art museums. We have memberships at a few local museums and we go to their major exhibitions. Yesterday was the Georgia O’Keefe and Henry Moore exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts.
It was an interesting idea. They took two artists who worked in different mediums (a painter and a sculptor) in the same time period (early 20th century) and put them side by side. The idea was to see how they were grappling with similar themes in their work, especially nature and tension/balance between shapes, and appreciate how they influenced each other.
The galleries were quite crowded (a great sign for art museums!), but that made it a bit difficult to fully consider the interplay between the two artists. Still, I think I got the idea.
This gallery, with a large Moore sculpture in the foreground and O’Keefe paintings on the walls, shows what the curators were going for with this exhibit.
My husband liked the Moore sculptures best. Me? I just love those famous Georgia O’Keefe flower paintings. As many times as I’ve seen them reproduced as prints and posters, the originals are so nuanced and gorgeous. What can I say? I like flowers and pretty colors. (They sort of reminded me of the Northern Lights.)
And then, for something completely different, we took a stroll through a Salvador Dalí exhibit. The famous Spanish surrealist was truly an extraordinary painter. Interestingly, he was a contemporary of Moore and O’Keefe. All three lived through World War II—an event so monumental no artist was unaffected by it.
The Three Ages (Old Age, Adolescence and Infancy) by Dalí, 1940. If you look closely, each section of the painting is a double image (i.e. the left side is a standing, stooped figure and also an old man’s face). “This painting revisits Dalí’s most famous composition, The Persistence of Memory, which by the early 1950s had become emblematic not only of Dalí, but also of the Surrealism movement. Here Dali once again places melting watches in a barren landscape, but now the context is the post-war atomic age. An elaborate grid of bricks recedes toward the distant horizon, the boxy shapes becoming missile-like forms. Typical of the artist, the picture’s meaning is ambiguous, though very much of the nuclear era.”
A year ago this week, we were in Grand Canyon National Park.
Selfies are hard. This is one of our better ones.
We stayed right in Grand Canyon Village. This was taken just outside our hotel—Thunderbird Lodge.
Shoshone Point—a wild and gorgeous spot in Grand Canyon National Park
Shoshone Point
We even took a helicopter tour—scary at first, but spectacular and worth the price.
This trip was motivated by the death of my close friend Carla who loved the Grand Canyon and whose ashes are spread there. (Carla is the person who set me up with my husband more than 33 years ago.) I would consider it my first “bucket list” trip of retirement, even though I didn’t retire until six months later.
I’m lucky to have a kind and hardworking husband who is willing to travel with me (within reason). He doesn’t love it like I do, but he usually ends up liking the trip a lot more than he thought he would.
Thirty-one years of marriage—that’s a whole lot of time together!
The Grand Canyon lives up to the hype. Go, if you can.
I’ve had my moments, but as of today, I do not regret getting married nearly 31 years ago.
We’ve all heard the statistics that almost half of marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation. It’s a big risk to walk down the aisle and pledge your unending love and support to another person. Given that divorce is so expensive and emotionally taxing, it’s kind of amazing that so many people still give marriage a shot.
At my age, I know happy single people, happy married people, and one or two unhappy single people (they wish they were not alone and are still looking). I no longer know many unhappy married people, because they mostly already got their divorces and are happy again.
At this point, the widows and widowers seem to have it the hardest. When you’ve been with another person for decades and you lose them, the grief and loneliness is profound. It’s the other big risk of marriage—the one you don’t really worry about at the start.
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