A Bad Case of the “What Ifs” ~ by Sam

I have a long-standing chronic case of the “What-Ifs.”  Every time I see a new freckle, or dimple, or pucker, lump, or bump I’m thinking, “Oh, God, What If…??”  I can’t help it, there’s a lot of Cancer in my family.  Every time I fall, I wonder if something is broken, because 9 times out of 10, something is.  With a track record like that, you start to get nervous.  Every time I start to cough, and my chest feels rattly, I think, “geez, what if this turns into bronchitis, or pneumonia?”  Because, you guys, I don’t have time for that.  Nobody’s got time for that.  Look, I have asthma, and the chances that my cough is going to turn into something like that are higher than those of a person who doesn’t have asthma, so it’s not just totally crazy for me to think that.  When my kids cough, I think, “What if…??” FOR EXACTLY THE SAME REASONS.  And, like, they’ve already missed roughly three million days of school.  And that was probably just this week. There’s probably a truant officer at my door right freaking now.  I’d answer it, but I’m on hold with Kaiser because the automated system kicked me to the wrong option when I coughed.  It’s not my fault.  I might have pneumonia.

Basically, I’m a mess.  Pretty much always, and I know it.

Recently ~ and by recently, I think I mean since like the beginning of April ~ I have been chronically congested, and my nose has been sore and chapped.  It’s super attractive.  I figured it was probably allergies.  I have allergies.  I have never found a daily allergy medication that works very well.  Usually, at some point, I end up with a sinus infection, which I was dreading, and trying to avoid.  I also have a Eustachian tube malfunction in my left ear, which is not the ear in which I use a hearing aid ~ I hate to call it “my good ear,” because my other ear is just as good, despite being somewhat deaf ~ this means it almost always feels sort of plugged, and like it needs to pop, but it doesn’t pop.  Like, ever.  And this affects my hearing in that ear.  It sounds like everything is underwater, sometimes for hours, sometimes for days.  Anyway, it had felt this way, and I was kind of used to it, but it wasn’t terrible, to be honest.  I haven’t ever had any pain associated with the Eustachian tube thing.  Maybe, sometimes, it feels a little full, like a little pressure, but never pain. Then, last Saturday, as we were driving home from Accepted Student Day at Hallie’s college  ~ OMG!  Did I just say that?!!  My middle child is headed to college in the Fall!!  How crazy is that??!!! *deep breath* I’ll have to post about that later ~ my ear popped, just a tiny bit, but it HURT.  I mean, it really hurt.  I had to grip the steering wheel, and grit my teeth. Then, it continued to hurt through the day, and into the evening.

I figured, maybe that was sort of normal with the Eustachian tube malfunction; but, when I looked it up online, I couldn’t find anything about pain being associated with it. So I did the smart thing, and decided to wait a few days, to see what happened.  You see, by this time, I had decided, probably nothing was wrong, and I was worried for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

But…

WHAT IF…?

What if I had a really bad ear infection, and I didn’t get it checked out, and I permanently lost hearing in my left ear?  What if my eardrum was ruptured?  I mean…On the one hand, I guess, if I thought through both of those scenarios, I’d have to say, “So?”  Like…”So, if either of those conditions already exists, HOW IS NOT CALLING THE DOCTOR GOING TO HELP??”  Also, I do get that, if I were to lose some (or even all) hearing in my left ear, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.  It would just be a change from what I’m used to.  It’s weird that the idea freaked me out so much.  I think, maybe it was the possibility that something (like an infection, or ruptured eardrum) might be very wrong that was most upsetting.  I think, in situations like this, I still have a tendency to go into small-child-survival-mode. Like, maybe if I don’t call, it will go away, and then it will be like it never happened.  That’s how life works.  I’m so good at being a grown up, you guys.  Right?  I’m reminded of the time, when I was 5 years old, and a needle I’d stepped on broke off in my foot.  I just didn’t tell anyone.  That resulted in surgery, so you can see how this plan has worked for me in the past.  It makes sense that I’d stick with it.

Like the needle, this just wasn’t going away.  I couldn’t hear.  It hurt.  People would talk, and I’d ask them to stop yelling.  It was bad.  And you know how when something is wrong with your ear, your balance is off, and you feel sick to your stomach, too?  Yeah.  That, too.

So, I finally bit the bullet and emailed my doctor.  Emailed, because I didn’t even feel like making a phone call.

I got a phone call back from the nurse.  She was a bit taken aback that I had not called, and said that doctor wanted me to come in as soon as possible to be evaluated.  You guys, I was on the phone with this woman asking, “Are you sure?  We can’t possibly do a phone appointment, can we?” and she had to say to me, “No.  The doctor needs to see your ear, dear.”  I know this.  I know all of these things.  I know I needed to call.  I probably needed to call Saturday, let’s be honest.

*sigh*

Well, my ridiculous story has an equally ridiculous, but happy, ending.

I have really bad allergies.  And a Eustachian tube malfunction.  They don’t like each other very much, so they don’t work together well.  There’s no infection.  My eardrum is intact.  I’m trying new daily allergy medications, in hopes one will work.

Everything still sounds like it’s underwater.  And, sometimes, it hurts.  But at least I’m not as worried about it as I was.

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Having a Day ~ by Sam

You ever one of those days? You know the ones.  When you thought you were just having a moment, but then, you looked up, and it was, like, 4 or 5 hours later, and you’re STILL having the same moment, so you really had to admit to yourself, you were having A DAY.

I don’t mean in the sense that, say, you and one of your very best friends have chosen your absolute favourite thing to do, and said to one another, with great enthusiasm (in cartoonish unison, for maximum effect): “Let’s make a day of it!”  That actually sounds like fun.  I would love to have that kind of day.

I mean, you know, having a day. 

Like, when nothing in particular is wrong, but, it’s just…look…maybe you just really don’t like eggs.  You don’t, okay?  And so, you know what?  Screw eggs, and why are they one of the, like, 19 foods you can eat without feeling terrible?  And of those 19 foods, why are there only roughly 4 proteins ~ and why did one of them have to be eggs?!  The truth is, you never liked eggs; and now you have to eat them all the time, and you’ll be damned if it’s not making you feel a little better, which is particularly frustrating.

Then, you know what else…if you’re gonna hate eggs, maybe you don’t like walking all that much, either.  You were a runner, for crying out loud, and walking is not running.  It’s really not very fun, even on a good day, and maybe your foot hurts; or maybe walking is just slow, and kind of boring, to be honest.  Maybe you just walked a little bit farther than you intended, and now you have to walk back home, and, frankly, you’re just not enjoying it.

By now, you’ve probably made it to the evening.  Perhaps, you think it might be a good idea to try to unwind with a little yoga, but there are things you have to do first: things like laundry and dishes, and other chores, which ~ let’s be honest ~ nobody likes doing when they’re already feeling grumpy.  (Well, I don’t know.  Maybe somebody does, but it’s not me.)  Then there’s PT, and then, finally, you can probably do some yoga and try to relax.

But you probably won’t enjoy it.   Because it’s the same day, and you’re still having a day.

Yeah.

It’s one of those days when, for no particular reason, you just wanna stick out your tongue at the whole world.

And you didn’t even win the lottery.  Again.

Luckily, I get to try again tomorrow.  I mean, not to win the lottery.  Just, you know, with the whole day thing.

But I think I’ll skip the eggs, just for a day or two.

 

Food & Stuff ~ by Sam

(in which I swear once, which is not a lot, since I am talking about food & stuff)

Alas, it was not meant to be.

I really thought Marian might pull through, until I awoke one day to find nothing but two bare stalks.  I think, this time, she truly is a goner.  I am so sad.  The next time I was at the nursery, I asked what I might be doing wrong for my maidenhair ferns, and was assured that I have done exactly what I should.  It seems my home just might not be the best environment for them, for whatever reason. It was suggested that I try a different, heartier variety of fern.  We selected this lovely sliver lace fern, which i promised to not to name, just in case…then promptly name Mathilda as I was pulling out of the parking lot.  Apparently, all of my plants will be named after literary characters.
Mathilda

I am going to try to refrain from buying (or killing) any more houseplants for some time.  Instead, I will work on trying to keep alive the ones I have.

In the interest of posting about something other than houseplants ~ ‘though I do love them ~ I thought I would share some of the meals I’ve been eating.  Because no one ever does that on the internet.  It’s a totally revolutionary idea.

I know.  Like, half of you ~ more than half of you ~ already walked away.  That’s okay.  The rest of us are still here, and we like each other just fine, thank you very much.

But food. Well, you know, food and I have a storied history.  I loved food when I was a kid.  I loved some foods other people might find really weird.  I ate stuff like butcher bologna and fried brains (no, really, y’all ~ I tell my kids I’m actually part zombie, as a result of this culinary adventure), and slim jims, and those hot sausages that came in wrappers like slim jims.  I still love red beet eggs,  and my mom’s ziti and shoofly pie ~ all of which I am pretty sure I am not supposed to eat, and that is a travesty, by the way.  I ate crabs and scallops and lobster and shrimp, and clam chowder.  I mean, I grew up in Maryland.  We ate seafood.  It’s kind of a thing.

Now…well…

First, I had an eating disorder.  When you have an eating disorder, you don’t hate food.  I think that’s a common misconception.  Maybe it’s more of a love/hate relationship.  I became positively obsessed with food.  I knew everything about it.  I was obsessed with what nutritional value of everything, how many calories it had, what was the fat content, sugar content, serving size… Not that any of it mattered.  I wasn’t actually eating much of it.  I did love to cook it.  For other people.  And watch them eat it.

Then, I became (and have remained) vegetarian.  That’s working out okay for me.  I mean, y’all can have your brains.  I have to say, I am pretty much over that.  I was vegan for about 8 years, and I felt pretty good at the time, but I’ll admit, it was difficult, especially when I got pregnant with my first child.  That’s about the time I decided to start eating cheese again.  I really like cheese.

Which totally doesn’t matter.  Cheese hates me.  With a passion.  It turns out, I am allergic to milk protein.  So, some years (yes, it took years ~ many, painful years), and many health problems later, I gave up all dairy products.  I miss cheese so much it hurts ~ but you know, not as much as that feeling in my throat when I ingest it, so this is really much better.  (I’m also now allergic to shellfish, which I had already given up eating, for what it’s worth, which doesn’t impact my diet, but is a weird side note considering that I ate it as a kid, I guess.)

Also, (and, well, really, I should have thrown this part in a while ago, because it originally reared its ugly head in high school), I have IBS.  That’s Irritable Bowel Syndrome, in case you didn’t know, and, as is evidenced by the name, it is just a festival of fun times, as I am sure you can imagine.  I won’t go into detail.  I mean, it involves your bowels, being irritable.  You can figure out what that means.  Or, you know, google it, if you want to, but I really can’t imagine why you would want to do that.

So, here I was going along, doing my thing, trying to be healthy ~ and I was really making a concerted effort, too, because I had some long-standing terrible habits to break.  Habits like not eating breakfast.  Forgetting meals altogether.  Eating chocolate for a quick burst of energy to get me through to the next meal, and then not taking time for the next meal.  Eating things like the crusts of kids’ pizza, the ends of their poptarts, and the few green beans that were left in the pan, and thinking, “That was probably a meal, right?”  Drinking a frappuccino instead of lunch.

I figured this was bad for me, bad for my body, and a terrible example for my kids, and I decided to do something about it.  I started doing things like eating more vegetables and fruits.  I love roasting vegetables ~ broccoli, asparagus, brussels sprouts, cabbage ~ especially with lots of fresh garlic, balsamic vinegar and olive oil.  I love artichokes.  I don’t like fruit, but berries are good for you.  I ate berries, even though I don’t like them.  I actually like pears, and some kinds of apples, and I can eat about half of a banana, sometimes, but only half.  I was trying with the fruit.  I started drinking coconut water. You hear so much about how good for you it is.  Man, I really bought that.  I used coconut milk in my coffee drinks, instead of soy, because I know too much soy is bad for you, and I already use some soy.  I was eating whole grains.  Oh, and beans.  I was trying to make sure to get enough protein, but from a variety of sources ~ nuts and nut butters, seiten, quinoa, seeds, tofu and tempeh, some commercially available meat substitutes, and beans.  I love beans.

For some reason, my digestive issues got worse.  At first, I thought, maybe it was just that I was eating meals that were too large, so I started eating smaller, more frequent meals. Then, I thought maybe it was just that was still getting used to eating well ~ maybe my body was adjusting to digesting all those fruits and vegetables and stuff.  Maybe it was too much of a transition all at once.  I even thought maybe it was a medication side effect…or maybe it was a symptom of something else.

The truth was much simpler: my IBS was completely out of control.

So, after one doctor’s visit led to another doctor’s visit, which led to some labwork, and a referral to a gastroenterologist (and more labwork ~ with more to come), I find myself on a very restrictive diet.  I am currently on a gluten-free low FODMAP diet, and it is the most restrictive diet I have ever had.  I am forced to be obsessed with food again, which is a little bit scary, to be honest, and I have to be careful not to fall back in to old patterns.  I think the key, in that regard, is to keep eating the food.  That, and the fact that the goal this time is to keep the food in my body and maybe actually gain some weight, which is really weird for me.  But it must all look frighteningly familiar to people who  have known me through all of this, and it must be worrisome for them, too, because here I am, again, very thin (due to medication) and obsessing about food.  My understanding is that at least some of this could be temporary, and then we can start trying to figure out what foods, specifically cause problems for me.  For now…

Ah, well, it is what it is.

If you are interested, you can look up the low FODMAP diet. For me, it’s basically like this: Make a list of all of your favourite foods. Write: “DON’T EAT THESE” at the top. Now, start eating eggs again.  What?  You don’t like eggs?  Fuck you.  Eat them anyway.  You don’t eat meat, and there are only like 4 other protein sources on this list that you’re allowed to eat.  Eat the freaking eggs.

If you have IBS, or another digestive disorder, you might want to talk to your doctor about whether or not this plan might be helpful to you.  I know, I just made it sound super appealing.  (sorry.)

Here, to entice you are some pictures of things I have been allowed to eat, to prove that it is not actually terrible:
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Vegetable curry w/ quinoa

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Maple walnut oatmeal with bananas & cinnamon

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Baked potato topped w/ veggie chili and avocado

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Egg salad, avocado, red pepper & olives

So, maybe I make it all sound very dire, but I am eating a lot of beautiful, delicious foods.  Most importantly, I seem to be getting it right, most of the time.  Eating out is still difficult, because it’s a bit of a craps shoot.  You know, you order the potatoes, and hope they aren’t seasoned with anything your gut’s gonna hate.

Feeding the whole family is a challenge, because my needs often require a little more creative meal-planning ~ and it does get a little bit redundant, sometimes.  I’ve hit on some recipes I can make that we all like, and, at the very least, I can often make a meal from which I can easily adapt something for myself.  If not, I usually have leftovers in the fridge, because I tend to cook for more than one meal at a time, anticipating that need.  I am still learning, but I’m getting there.

In the end, if I feel better, am able to keep the foods I eat in my system long enough to actually process the nutrients my body needs from them, and do important things like socialize with other humans, take my medication and, you know, absorb it so that it actually works, I think that’s a vast improvement.  You know, when things like that start working, the hope is that I will be able to do more of the things I want to be doing.

I would say things are looking up.

Today, for instance, I was able to get up and go with Shane to help sort Girl Scout cookie orders at the warehouse, and bring back all of the cookies Kaia intends to sell this season.  I loaded and unloaded cars, grabbed a coffee, came home and practiced banjo, cooked dinner, sat down and wrote this very long blog entry.  Now I intend to clean up a bit, and try to get my PT done before bed.  It might not sound like a lot, but I think it’s not bad for a Saturday with chronic pain and a digestive disorder.  I mean, let’s be honest: there are still a lot of days when I just want to pull the covers back over my head as soon as I wake up, but, you know, I have a Girl Scout, and those cookies aren’t gonna drive themselves home.  My banjo’s not gonna play itself.  I mean, come on ~ I’ve got stuff to do.

cookies

 

Potting & Repotting ~ by Sam

Well, it’s been all of 4 days since I repotted the last batch of plants, so, naturally, I have assumed it was a raging success and decided to repot every plant I see.

But, seriously, folks…

Sometime before Halloween, I purchased three adorable little succulents in ceramic planters. They  were far too cute to resist: two bright orange pumpkins, and a purple sugar skull.  For quite a while, the plants seemed to be thriving, so I just went merrily along, giving them little sips of water.  Recently, however, I noticed the one in the sugar skull planter looking a bit wilty. I took it out of the planter, because I thought it must not be getting any drainage at all in there (there was an actual flowerpot inside the planter).  I took it out and set in on a little dish so it could dry out a bit and drain better.  Then, it started looking downright soggy.  I thought I’d better try re-potting it and the other two that had come in similar planters, as well as a fern I had recently purchased, which came wrapped in fussy paper, but not in a very good pot.

I went to the nursery and purchased pots the next day, but, sadly, I don’t think the one little succulent from the sugar skull planter is going to survive.  I set him outside in his pot, thinking the very dry air might revive him.  It rained.

I bought another small succulent to fill the pot I had planned to use for that one, and, if he makes it, I promise to buy him a very good pot of his very own.  And make a most sincere apology for giving away his in the first place.

So.

Again.  In case it wasn’t boring enough last time I wrote about it, I repotted some plants.  I’m sorry.  I apologize to the plants.  They are not boring at all.  They are lovely, and I love them all.

Here they are, waiting to be repotted.  You can clearly see the need.
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Also, please note, these two magnificent chairs I scored for 100% free when a guy down the street was giving them away.  They are just waiting to become a future project, which might be a little more exciting than repotting plants, if the repotting of plants does not thrill you.

I had already cleaned out the sugar skull planter and left it inside, so I’m afraid you don’t get a picture of that one.  But look at that little plant on the left?  See the little metal bucket it’s in?  I have a couple of those buckets, now.  I have them because the plants that were in them died.  It is my considered opinion that they most likely dies because plants just don’t do well in things like metal buckets and ceramic planters that don’t allow for drainage.  So, if you get one of these cute things, that’s all well and good.  Enjoy it like that for a brief time, but, if you want to keep the plant, you should probably transfer it to something more appropriate.  At least, I hope that will work.  Based on the reading I have done in preparation for all of this, it should.

I settled on a simple white pot for the fern, whom I named Charlotte, at Justice’s suggestion, since we have a similar fern named Fern, and she thought we should stick with a theme.  For the three succulents, I chose clay pots.  I thought the clay pots would be better at not holding in too much moisture for plants that like a drier environment.  I also bought a plant mister, because I have heard that ferns like to have their leaves misted.  It turns out this is not a great mister.  It’s more of a douser.  I need to find a good mister I can use indoors that actually mists plants instead of just spraying torrential rains inside my home.  The roof already serves that purpose when it rains.
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I transferred the plants to their new pots, and dressed the succulents with some decorative pebbles, making sure to place some in the bottom of each pot to ensure good drainage.
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I felt to dress Charlotte with anything more would really be quite ridiculous.  She’s come fully festooned already.
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I think they all look much happier now.

I promise I will write about something other than plants soon.  I mean, maybe.  Probably.  I do really like my plants.
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Weekend Projects ~ by Sam

Monday January 15, 2018:
I have high hopes that yesterday will go down in history as the day that I saved several cacti and a fern.  Maybe if we all believe hard enough…should you all clap your hands or something? Can it be like that moment in Peter Pan when we all saved Tinkerbell by believing in faeries?  Say it with me: “I do believe in planties, I do believe in planties…”

Honestly, I feel fairly awful about the fern.  Her name is Marian, for obvious reasons.  Did I mention that she’s a maidenhair fern?  It’s obvious now, right?  Well, it was obvious to me.  Anyway, when we met, at the grocery store, Marian was rather a lush fern. I brought her home, put her on the table, and faithfully followed the instructions that accompanied her.  I kept her soil moist, and kept her away from the heating and cooling vents.  I misted her leaves, and she just didn’t care.  She dried up, anyway.  So I looked up care tips, and, as suggested, I gave her a good soaking, and waited.  She didn’t produce news leaves, as promised.  I kept trying.  So, this weekend, I decided to give her a new pot.  I even gave her fresh soil, and some lovely pebbles.  Then, I read, too late, that maidenhair ferns don’t like repotting!  I am very distressed about this.  I like Marian so much.  She has only two straggly little stems left.  I will keep caring for her and hoping for the best, but I am going to be very sad if she doesn’t make it.  Perhaps, I should rethink naming my plants, if I am going to continue to massacre them.  But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  For now, she is resting, apparently comfortably in her new pot.  I think she looks lovely in orange.  Don’t you agree?

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Marian wasn’t the only plant in the house who needed assistance.

Hallie had this really adorable little glass terrarium.  You’ve probably seen them everywhere lately.  This one was teardrop shaped, and it had what I think is a ruby  ball cactus (or is it a pink ball cactus?  is that a thing?  it certainly looks pink to me), one other small succulent, and some moss.  It was super tiny and cute, until George the cat knocked it off the table and broke it.  We know he didn’t mean to break it.  He’s just a large guy, and it was a small, delicate thing, on a small table.  It was an accident.  It broke, nonetheless, so we had to figure out what to do about that.  The ball cactus looks like it might be damaged.  I am honestly, not sure it will make it, so not sure, in fact, that I bought a new one, just in case, but we decided to try our hardest to save it.  We also had a dish garden that had been planted long ago, and, sadly, all of the plants but one had finally given up on us.  We decided to get a tiny pot for that last one, and the new cactus I’d purchased.  I was lucky enough to find these absolutely adorable tiny teacup planters at the nursery, and I happened to have one small pot already, so I bought a soil mix that is supposed to be good for cacti, put a few pebbles in the bottom of each, added the plants, and topped with pebbles and/or moss, as the case may be.  I think they turned out super cute, although I didn’t put enough soil in the largest pot, so you can’t even see the plants over the top edge ~ oops!IMG_5169

Oh!  There they are!

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While I was doing all of this, shane was busy putting together the new tv stand.  He got some help deciphering the instructions:

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But Leia wasn’t a lot of help when it came to actually assembling the thing.  He asked George to help, but all he would do was pose for closeups.

So, finally, I pitched in an helped with one little shelf.  It was awesome.  I fastened roughly 17 screws.  Are you proud of me?  I put in, like 36 of those wooden peg things, and I even covered the heads of the screws with little plastic discs because, let me tell you, we buy the only the classiest prefab furniture.

No, seriously.  I like this piece.  I think it is pretty stylish, for the price.  It cost just over $200, and shipping was free, which always makes difference when you have to order something heavy to be delivered.

—————zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz——————

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

….and then, I fell asleep while writing this.  Not for, like, days, but then, you know, the days all kind of happened.

Days in which I had a very sick kid staying home from school, and other kids not staying home, and a husband whose car needed to get to and from the shop, and groceries that needed to somehow be purchased and get home from the store ~ I mean, I know they have delivery services for that; but I drove to the store and got them, and brought them home, because that’s what I felt we could do right now.  I did have the farm box delivered from Imperfect Produce, because I think it’s a really great thing they’re doing, and, even if I can’t always afford to get a lot from them, I like to give them the business, if I can.

Oh ~ I don’t mean I like to “give them the business!”  I mean, I like to patronize them.  As in take my business to them.  I am not patronizing to them.  I prefer to purchase items of produce from them when I am able, because I find them to be a reputable company that is striving to do good in the world.

Why is the English Language so difficult to navigate?

But, I digress.
Incessantly.
I’m sorry.
But not really.
I mean.  It’s not that big a deal…is it?

So, anyway, we got the new tv stand put together ~ or rather, Shane got the new tv stand put together ~ and I think it’s just brilliant.  I love the look of it.  We do need some supplemental shelves, as you will see in a moment, but it’s got a very interesting shape, and it came together quite nicely.  The old one was very blocky and dark. You’ll have to trust me, because I completely forgot to take “Before” pictures.  Hopefully, at some point, Shane will chime in with some insights on his assembly experience.  He certainly had a few words to say about it during the process.  Hopefully, he won’t repeat all of them in print.

But seriously folks ~

Here is the new tv stand, in all her glory, as we launch her with the customary Ross family viewing of Star Wars!
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Shane was so exhausted by the time he finished putting the thing together ~ and it was so late ~ that he didn’t make it through the whole movie.  I mean, he made it.  He just fell asleep.  Justice had already gone to bed.

This wasn’t exactly the customary Ross family Star Wars viewing at all.  I think we need a do-over.

However, I did catch this one really important photo of Princess Leia (kitten) and R2-D2 (pez dispenser) with Princess Leia and R2-D2.  It’s blurry, but I thought the world should know.
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So, that’s what we were up to over the last weekend.  Sorry the pictures are a bit low light.  We really need to work out the lighting situation in that room.

In closing, in the interest of giving equal(ish) time to equal cats, I give you Lucille Louise, a.k.a., Lucy:
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Isn’t she just the Queen of Everything?

A Good Egg ~ by Sam

I keep trying to convince myself that I like eggs, because they are approved for my diet. The thing is, I don’t; and, to be honest, I am not convinced they like me. They are high in protein ~ although the reasons for this freak me out somewhat, and I am probably a wannabe vegan, having been one for about 8 years in my youth ~ and the rest of my diet is so limited that I feel I really should give it the old “college try” (but not “college,” really, because some of college would account for part of my vegan years).
 
Anyway.
 
I’m trying. To like eggs. I like egg salad, but I am very particular about it, I have to be in the mood for it, and it probably has to be my egg salad, in just the right amount, and probably on toast, maybe with a tiny bit of lettuce. Usually. The other day, I scrambled a single egg with all of the vegetables I could find that I could possibly eat, and some fresh herbs. I added salt, pepper & nutritional yeast, then put on the lid and let it sort of steam a little at the end. It took on an almost soufflé-like texture. The only reason I could tell there was egg involved was because it stuck together. That was okay.
 
Today, I cooked diced potatoes, carrots, and Beyond Meat grilled chicken strips in a skillet. Then, I cooled them and mixed in finely diced egg and all of the ingredients I would to make a curried chicken salad (except that I didn’t have any chutney, which I am not sure I could have anyway, which would be tragic, so let’s not think about that). So, it’s basically like egg, potato & (vegetarian) chicken salad all rolled into one ~ and seasoned with curry.
 
I scooped some in to half of an avocado, and put away the rest to have tomorrow. I think the potato, chicken strips, carrots, curry and dressing did a fine job of disguising the flavour of the eggs. I will eat the rest tomorrow. I am pretty sure the combination of egg and chicken strips must be fairly high in protein.
 
I am still not convinced I like eggs.
The jury is out on how they feel about me.

…and in with the New

While we were busy getting ready for the evening’s celebrations, it seemed like we might never get there.  Just one thing after another seemed to keep getting in the way, hindering our progress in one way or another.

First, the washing machine decided to start making that horrendous noise AGAIN, and then just quit about a minute before the cycle ended, but a minute early was nothing.  The clothes were done, so we put them in the dryer, and moved on to the next load.  We weren’t so lucky with that one.  The second load stopped mid-cycle. The machine was locked.  It refused to let us reset it, turn it off, unlock it, open it, change the cycle, stop it.  It was just stopped there, and we could do nothing.  I got the brilliant idea to unplug it.  That should work, right?  I mean, you would think.  At this point, I jus wanted to get the clothes, which Justice needed, out, and take them to the laundromat.  I plugged it in again. Still locked.  Everything still the same. I tried again.  This time, it wouldn’t let me turn it off, but it did at least let me reset the cycle.  Since it had stopped during the rinse and spin, I set it to rinse and spin only.  Luckily, it finished rinsing and spinning, and, miraculously, unlocked.  I have been terrified to use it since, and we desperately need to do laundry.

I planned to make two treats to take along to the usual New Year’s Eve party: Fantasy Fudge, and Amaretti.  One, I had made dozens of times, so it was a no-brainer.  The other was a brand new recipe, but one I had long wanted to try, and had been reading about for some time, so I had a good idea of how it should work.  I felt confident enough to give it a go.  I was all set…except that I didn’t have sugar.  So, I decided I would have to run out and get some sugar. Since the store is just up the block, and everyone else was home, I turned on the oven to heat, while I ran up the street to get the sugar I needed.  Then, I went to grab my purse from the bedroom where I’d left it.

That’s when I smelled it.

There was a very strong, obvious gas odor.  I first noticed it as I approached the door of our bedroom.  My first thought was to ask Hallie to check all of the burners on the stove, which, in retrospect, was silly, since I was nowhere near the kitchen.  They were all off, but we made sure, and decided to turn off the oven, too, after Justice confirmed that the room did, indeed, smell strongly of gas.

Kaia, who was resting in the room with a heating pad, had been complaining of a headache, and I started to put two and two together at this time.  I texted Shane, who was out front, checking a few things on his new (used) car.  He brought in the cat carrier.  Justice started opening windows and turning on fans;  and we let out the two cats who are allowed to go out, and everyone set to work trying to find the one who isn’t allowed out while I called the gas company.

While everyone tried to wrangle Leia, who is still a bit skittish, has no interest in going outside, and doesn’t especially like to be picked up, into the carrier, I talked to a representative of the gas company.  We realized that the closest gas appliance to the odor was the fireplace.  I made sure the pilot was shut off, removed the key; and, at some point, they managed to get Leia into the carrier.  We all went outside to wait.

Luckily, the guy arrived quickly.  It seems the key that turns on the pilot to the gas fireplace had been left in, and had been accidentally tripped slightly.  He also replaced a couple of fittings that were incorrect.

Finally back int he house, we had only lost hours and hours to washing machine and gas woes.  Shane let Leia out of the carrier, then ran to the store for me.  I think I was doing something, but I can’t remember what it was at this time.

At some point, much earlier in the morning ~ and really, it had come up days before, too ~ Justice had told us that, this year, for the first time ever, she would be spending New Year’s Eve celebrating with friends who were home from college, instead of hanging out with the family.  Of course, that’s totally fine.  She’s an adult, and can celebrate New Year’s Eve however she wants.  It is a big change, however, and one of those things about raising kids ~ they grow up, and one day they are adults, and off doing things on their own.

And Hallie was busy with school stuff, so we decided that Shane would come to the party a little later with Hallie, and I would go earlier with Kaia.  So, I made my Fantasy fudge and Amaretti (they’re little Italian almond cookies, in case you don’t know), and got myself a little bit gussied up, and Kaia and I headed out to the party.  Then, later, Shane and Hallie joined us.

As always, it was a fabulous time.  Our friends, the Foxes, always host a marvelous New Year’s Eve party.  I feel like it was a smaller crowd this year.  I know we weren’t the only family who was short a kid.  There was no shortage of desserts!  (I brought, like, four pounds of fudge, you guys.) But, as always, we all had a lovely time, and it was a nice crowd.  The “core group” was all there ~ the 5 families who were all in that MOMSClub playgroup together many, many years ago, when our kids, who are now Seniors in high school, were babies.  The youngest kids are freshmen in highschool now.

We rang in the New Year, watching the ball drop on TV, and toasting with champagne for the adults and sparkling cider for the kids, just as always; but it seemed, this year, everyone lingered a little longer.

Leftovers were packed up by one family, who will be distributing them to homeless people, so they won’t go to waste.

We all said our goodbyes, “Happy New Year’s!” and headed out into the crisp night air.

Shane and Hallie hopped into his car, and Kaia and I into mine.

As we drove off, Bob Dylan sang over the car stereo:

Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’.
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’.
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don’t criticize
What you can’t understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin’.
Please get out of the new one
If you can’t lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin’.