I'm so chatty today. Third post. My, my.
Just all tucked into bed. It's been so nice today, all warm-ish. The girls rode their bikes in the backyard, circling the chickens, without jackets on. In the fifties, which to me means a sweater or something, but they were happy to be bare-armed.
About to get up and make drop biscuits to go with the stew that's been simmering. I told Gary my get-up-and-go got up and went, and wish it wasn't so. Think the annoyance of the phone call this morning took all my adrenaline and my energy level just went down the toilet. S'okay. Wish I had the urge to tidy up the place, but figure that's best left alone.
Some days I seem to drift from one task to another, and this seems to be one of those days. But all is well. When I feel this way, I tend to just need to gain some Perspective. Look at what's in front of me, be thankful for it and not look too far ahead. When the weekend hits, Life piles up a bit. There's usually a trip to see my mom, which is stressful---buying flowers for the altar, which isn't stressful, but is ONE more thing to do repeatedly, and most times groceries---which is necessary, but not fun to do on a Saturday.
But fourth son is treating me to lunch tomorrow, so will go that far in my head and no further. Natch.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Paperwork
Just muttering to myself. Had a call from DHS this morning about the papers they required to get my mom's Medicaid all set up. They needed all of the personal papers before February 3rd. The first set was mislaid in their office (that were faxed over on December 23rd), and the new worker wasn't sure where they'd ended up.
When she called, she asked why the follow-up info. we faxed last week hadn't included those original papers. I told her their secretary had the papers. And I quote.
She goes skittering off to find them, says she'll get back to me.
Two hours later.
Tick, tick, tick.
I called her, asking if she'd found the papers. The original case worker (who also goes by the name Slacker) had them in his desk.
Incompetence is so maddening. Really, the left foot doesn't know what the right foot is doing.
The clicker is when I called her, she wasn't sure what I was talking about. Two hours later. I realized folks are over-worked, but really? And if anyone else says it's because my last name is Smith, I'll smack you. The name Smith doesn't mean Invisible, does it, really?
The thing is, if you say you'll call me back, I actually believe you.
On the up-side, she said Mom's paperwork had been approved. Just like that. Thankful for that...that's for sure. Couldn't afford her care otherwise. Just a head's up. Dealing with government offices can be a big pain, but glad this has a happy ending.
When she called, she asked why the follow-up info. we faxed last week hadn't included those original papers. I told her their secretary had the papers. And I quote.
She goes skittering off to find them, says she'll get back to me.
Two hours later.
Tick, tick, tick.
I called her, asking if she'd found the papers. The original case worker (who also goes by the name Slacker) had them in his desk.
Incompetence is so maddening. Really, the left foot doesn't know what the right foot is doing.
The clicker is when I called her, she wasn't sure what I was talking about. Two hours later. I realized folks are over-worked, but really? And if anyone else says it's because my last name is Smith, I'll smack you. The name Smith doesn't mean Invisible, does it, really?
The thing is, if you say you'll call me back, I actually believe you.
On the up-side, she said Mom's paperwork had been approved. Just like that. Thankful for that...that's for sure. Couldn't afford her care otherwise. Just a head's up. Dealing with government offices can be a big pain, but glad this has a happy ending.
'The Sinners' Garden' by William Sirls
That said, his story is interesting to the point of being hard to put down. Several parts of it are strange and hard to believe, but they work just the same.
The book is partly about Judi, an abused wife and mother of Andy, who as a small boy suffered a disfiguring accident, yet he grows up not knowing what really happened since the truth is kept hidden. The story is also about Judi's brother, Rip, and his involvement in the incident with her son. Heather, the small-town police officer, former girlfriend of Rip, is also caught up in the thick of the mystery. Everything revolves around how they struggled and lived after that life-changing situation. After telling about the tragedy in the Prologue, the story flashes forward eleven years later with the child, Andy, having grown up into a very bitter and angry young man. Oddly enough, the anger is all directed at his mother, and the readers don't know why he comes across this way. I did find it frustrating to read the story told at times from the young man's point of view, which slipped in at different spots, and wasn't consistent throughout the book. He'd comment in an ugly way on his mom's outfit or her expression, and that comment was told to the reader in the author's voice. That was confusing.
But even so, I enjoyed the book. Sirls uses a science fiction/fantasy style with Christian overtones. He has characters seeing things or hearing things that seem out of place in an ordinary day, but as I said, they do work. It's a good story and one I'd recommend even with my picky fussing. I just think Sirls needs to polish up on his style.
(i received this book free to review from booksneeze/thomas nelson)
'Emma of Aurora' by Jane Kirkpatrick
The vast majority of characters introduced in the books are taken from real life incidents, and her re-telling of the events of their lives is done thoroughly and with style. Kirkpatrick writes beautiful dialogue and her characters are believable. And even though I'm not keen on saga-style writing, she does it well. Her research and the bibliography at the end of the book are impressive.
The books tell of the life in the 1800's of Emma Wagner, who at a young age marries a rising star in, what appears to be, a cult. She marries for love at the beginning of the series, suffers a loss and in the second book (which I found a bit disturbing) has to recover from that loss and, as a result, makes some very bad decisions.
For anyone who enjoys fiction/non-fiction set in the days of America's early days of the frontier, this is the series to read. And for those who like to see books well-written, you'd be pleased as well.
(i received this book free to review from waterbrook/multnomah)
Reading tastes
First let me get this out of the way. I was enjoying the Astrid & Veronika book. Very much. Then a situation (well two situations...one sort of small) happened and they put a bad taste in my mouth. One was involving one of the main characters and her father (several years after her mother had died), and that one was written with little detail, but still....certain sorts of inappropriate behavior are best left alone. That just ruined my feelings for the book, and for that, can't really recommend it. The thing is, if I could just flip through the offending pages and keep reading, I'd probably enjoy it. I'll think about it, but today, not so much.
Back in school, I remember in English class learning what a story's climax and denouement meant. High point and resolution. Those terms made sense to me then and I'd do my best to figure out which was which. Fast forward to now and I don't look for books or, for that matter, movies with a strong climax. I like stuff that's mild. I'll hear folks talk about a book just dragging on, with no excitement. Perfect. Life is adventuresome enough for me and my reading is best low-key and ordinary. Just the day-to-day. Or if there is a high-point in a story, I prefer it not to be connected to murder, child abduction, attacks on women, cruelty to animals...you get my point. When I was pregnant with our youngest son, I read mysteries until I was blue in the face. Read series after series. It was my pregnant lady's drug. Mystery fluff was my favorite, and nothing that required me to have to think too hard. I read all of Mary Higgins Clark's books except the one referring to a child abduction. No thank you.
So if an author slips in situations that are intentionally shocking to the reader, then I'll put it down. Call me boring, but that's the way I like it.
Back in school, I remember in English class learning what a story's climax and denouement meant. High point and resolution. Those terms made sense to me then and I'd do my best to figure out which was which. Fast forward to now and I don't look for books or, for that matter, movies with a strong climax. I like stuff that's mild. I'll hear folks talk about a book just dragging on, with no excitement. Perfect. Life is adventuresome enough for me and my reading is best low-key and ordinary. Just the day-to-day. Or if there is a high-point in a story, I prefer it not to be connected to murder, child abduction, attacks on women, cruelty to animals...you get my point. When I was pregnant with our youngest son, I read mysteries until I was blue in the face. Read series after series. It was my pregnant lady's drug. Mystery fluff was my favorite, and nothing that required me to have to think too hard. I read all of Mary Higgins Clark's books except the one referring to a child abduction. No thank you.
So if an author slips in situations that are intentionally shocking to the reader, then I'll put it down. Call me boring, but that's the way I like it.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
On a chilly Thursday afternoon
Having the heat on for days on end makes things dustier than usual, it seems. At least that's my excuse. The kitchen gets grimy without us having a vent fan over the stove, plus worn out things look more worn out when they're dirty. And I'm not the winning-est house cleaner, having better things to do with my time (like read), but I do like it when things are clean. Wish they stayed that way magically.
This isn't a rant, but an observation. Glad it seems the only thing I've changed (except really limit my sugar intake.....hmmm), has given me more energy.
Well, guess that's it for me. Have got an informal set time to sit down with the kids to go over Spanish in a few minutes. Take care and stay warm, if possible.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Wednesday night
Tetchy sort of day. I know partly it's because of the cold. I wake up in the morning and dread, absolutely dread having to climb out of the bed. By the time I've dragged my sorry old soul out of the covers, the worst is over. I turn on the tea kettle and off I go. I still get excited about fixing my tea in the morning. Every morning. Same thing everyday, but it settles me. Go figure.
But my motivation with the schooling is still poor. We've, uh, sort of kept up. I stayed away from formal schooling (well, my brand of formal) for the past couple of weeks, then figured I'd best get my act together again this week. A mistake. I've not been quite ready. Easily overwhelmed by life in general, I reckon.
Oldest daughter is good about making me see myself. I was talking about buying apple juice at the store today---one bottle for me, the other one for the kids. She asked what was up with me having my own bottle and I told her I'd had some pains for a couple of nights this week----tucked up under my right ribs. My reading points to a possible gall bladder issue. Not sure, but it's not an odd idea. Anyway, will do a bit of a purging with the juice and some organic apple cider vinegar. A mild help.
She got a bit serious with me telling me I needed a weekend of no chores---no visiting my mom, no deadlines, no extras. She's got a good point. And as we got to thinking about it, my two nights of stomach-area pain were at the same time I visited my sick uncle at the hospital. Stressful. I'm living with a consistent level of stress and it's become the norm. That can't be healthy.
On the plus side, I've lost twenty pounds since my mom had her stroke on November 7th. 'Course her situation, the flu and then a stomach virus were a help, but even recently, off it goes. Good thing I'm not a skinny person, or it'd be a bad thing. As it is, I can finally wear a diamond ring my dad gave me YEARS ago. My fingers had been too fat until recently. Cold weather is a help there too---rings just fall off, don't they?
Must go now. Time to rest.
But my motivation with the schooling is still poor. We've, uh, sort of kept up. I stayed away from formal schooling (well, my brand of formal) for the past couple of weeks, then figured I'd best get my act together again this week. A mistake. I've not been quite ready. Easily overwhelmed by life in general, I reckon.
Oldest daughter is good about making me see myself. I was talking about buying apple juice at the store today---one bottle for me, the other one for the kids. She asked what was up with me having my own bottle and I told her I'd had some pains for a couple of nights this week----tucked up under my right ribs. My reading points to a possible gall bladder issue. Not sure, but it's not an odd idea. Anyway, will do a bit of a purging with the juice and some organic apple cider vinegar. A mild help.
She got a bit serious with me telling me I needed a weekend of no chores---no visiting my mom, no deadlines, no extras. She's got a good point. And as we got to thinking about it, my two nights of stomach-area pain were at the same time I visited my sick uncle at the hospital. Stressful. I'm living with a consistent level of stress and it's become the norm. That can't be healthy.
On the plus side, I've lost twenty pounds since my mom had her stroke on November 7th. 'Course her situation, the flu and then a stomach virus were a help, but even recently, off it goes. Good thing I'm not a skinny person, or it'd be a bad thing. As it is, I can finally wear a diamond ring my dad gave me YEARS ago. My fingers had been too fat until recently. Cold weather is a help there too---rings just fall off, don't they?
Must go now. Time to rest.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Fussing
Is it colder today? Don't think so, but my body seems to believe it is. In the twenties right now, and in the teens at night, or the elevenes. Something like that. Who cares anymore, anyway? I can't remember any winter being so cold here for such a long time. A week's blast, sure, but not day after day, after day. Wearing on my sensibilities.
I was at the back faucet this afternoon. Tried to turn it on and refill the chicken water. Fail. We'd not covered it. I know. Silly us. Even with the cold blast a few weeks ago, the faucet didn't freeze, but it did today. I took out an extension cord with the hairdryer and thawed it in about 5 minutes. When Gary got home, he covered it nicely, so maybe we're good now. We do keep the faucets dripping (more like running) at night. Our old tub faucets are messed up now, least the cold water one is, so it steadily runs anyhow. Need me a plumber when we have some extra pocket change. Gary's afraid to touch the pipes anymore, being that it takes so many trips to the hardware store to fix things. And seriously, when we do cover the outside faucets, how do we know they don't freeze even a little bit in a sneaky fashion? We don't.
He did go to the hardware store today though, and bought a big plastic owl. A brown hawk was circling this morning while the girls were out back. The hens looked up at it, sideways---as chickens do. They sort of huddled together, but were still vulnerable. The girls put them in their coop, and then got the big dogs out. Hawk flew away. Our priest lost a chicken last weekend to a hawk attack. I just don't think we'd deal well with that. They're such loves. Not the hawks.
And we have a critter in the bedroom wall. I'm thinking mouse. I'm hoping mouse. 'Nuf said on that topic.
I hear it'll warm up to the fifties this weekend. I'll hold onto that thought. Whiner, I know.
I was at the back faucet this afternoon. Tried to turn it on and refill the chicken water. Fail. We'd not covered it. I know. Silly us. Even with the cold blast a few weeks ago, the faucet didn't freeze, but it did today. I took out an extension cord with the hairdryer and thawed it in about 5 minutes. When Gary got home, he covered it nicely, so maybe we're good now. We do keep the faucets dripping (more like running) at night. Our old tub faucets are messed up now, least the cold water one is, so it steadily runs anyhow. Need me a plumber when we have some extra pocket change. Gary's afraid to touch the pipes anymore, being that it takes so many trips to the hardware store to fix things. And seriously, when we do cover the outside faucets, how do we know they don't freeze even a little bit in a sneaky fashion? We don't.
He did go to the hardware store today though, and bought a big plastic owl. A brown hawk was circling this morning while the girls were out back. The hens looked up at it, sideways---as chickens do. They sort of huddled together, but were still vulnerable. The girls put them in their coop, and then got the big dogs out. Hawk flew away. Our priest lost a chicken last weekend to a hawk attack. I just don't think we'd deal well with that. They're such loves. Not the hawks.
And we have a critter in the bedroom wall. I'm thinking mouse. I'm hoping mouse. 'Nuf said on that topic.
I hear it'll warm up to the fifties this weekend. I'll hold onto that thought. Whiner, I know.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Boot camp boy
I think I've got it figured out---way out of my scope of experience, so had to learn that there are different Battalions, etc. Anyway, this photo, I think, pretty clearly shows our son, Joseph. He's the white boy smack in the middle of the photo.
Can't beat that with a stick. I'd cut his hair short before he left, but this is, of course, shorter. And the unattractive glasses they have to wear aren't very conducive to fashion, so to find him in a photo requires us to scratch our heads. We've found one more that appears to be him.
Such a comfort to actually see his group and what they're doing. Just touching at the same time to see how young they are and how exhausted they all seem. Bless them all.
Saturday, January 25, 2014
Saturday evening
Feeling so full just now. I got a bee in my bonnet (surely God's nudging) to get online with the base to get the phone number where third son is stationed in North Carolina. Everyone's told me that the recruits won't be able to receive mail the first couple of weeks. Our son, though, last Friday asked me to find out the address and write. I didn't know what to do. But obviously nobody else was going to do it for me. A couple of nights ago, I was about to go to sleep and got the distinct feeling that he needed prayer. Right then. Got to business on that at that very moment, and today just called the base. Made my heart beat fast. I really do think they keep them isolated for a bit, so I'm praying my timing is good.
Now I've lived on adrenaline all day. Glorious. I'm so excited that my call went through, someone really looked up his name and gave me distinct instructions on what to write on the envelope. Moms. We just want to know where our chickens are.
And thankfully I had stationary and stamps. I got a note off as did the least one. I even stuck in a chicken feather. They make such great bookmarks. :)
Now I'm listening to The Newsboys and Nickle Creek, getting my happy on.
And it's odd. In the midst of this joyous personal experience I'm having, my aunt and uncle are going through the hardest situation you can have, bar a couple of things I can think of. She's back home from the hospital, still with a weak heart, and my uncle is getting a feeding tube inserted next Tuesday, and will be moving to a nursing home after the feeding tube is secured, sometime later next week.
I'll go see him on Monday afternoon, after taking fourth son to work. Seriously, might be the last time I see him. His time to go be with the Lord is soon. We all can just tell. And if you sit still and think about that simple reality, life is so crystal. Even since my mom's stroke, I can feel my attitudes about certain things alter. So much is trivial, and facing the possibility of disability or death changes a person's outlook. Least it has mine, and frankly, it's good. As Tonia at Study in Brown says today....living is so dear. Yes. Yes it is.
Now I've lived on adrenaline all day. Glorious. I'm so excited that my call went through, someone really looked up his name and gave me distinct instructions on what to write on the envelope. Moms. We just want to know where our chickens are.
And thankfully I had stationary and stamps. I got a note off as did the least one. I even stuck in a chicken feather. They make such great bookmarks. :)
Now I'm listening to The Newsboys and Nickle Creek, getting my happy on.
And it's odd. In the midst of this joyous personal experience I'm having, my aunt and uncle are going through the hardest situation you can have, bar a couple of things I can think of. She's back home from the hospital, still with a weak heart, and my uncle is getting a feeding tube inserted next Tuesday, and will be moving to a nursing home after the feeding tube is secured, sometime later next week.
I'll go see him on Monday afternoon, after taking fourth son to work. Seriously, might be the last time I see him. His time to go be with the Lord is soon. We all can just tell. And if you sit still and think about that simple reality, life is so crystal. Even since my mom's stroke, I can feel my attitudes about certain things alter. So much is trivial, and facing the possibility of disability or death changes a person's outlook. Least it has mine, and frankly, it's good. As Tonia at Study in Brown says today....living is so dear. Yes. Yes it is.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Mindlfulness
Taking a moment.
It's cold-cold again. The hens get all huddled up outside and tuck their beaks into their feathers, swan-style. That's what the least one calls it. Right now they're in their coop fussing to be let out. The big dogs have been running around out there, oblivious to the cold (in the 20's, I think). Youngest son just let the dogs back inside, but the chickens are fussing. It's warmer in the chicken coop, but they don't like to be shut in there in the daytime. They get downright cranky.
On to other things...
I ran across a quote in the Robert Benson Living Prayer book by the Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh that rang a bell with me last night. The monk was asked what monks do, and he answered, "We walk and we sit and we eat." The other person asked, "Is that all?" The reply was, "Yes. But when we walk, we know we are walking, and when we sit, we know we are sitting, and when we eat, we know we are eating."
That made me stop and think. We've been sold a bill of goods about how we should multi-task all the time. Not sure if this is a modern-day thing, or what. I think it is. I've mentioned this before, but there's a Christian writer who wrote several books about multi-tasking, and getting as much done in a small stretch of time as possible. When I was a young mother, I bought into that method, but in the meantime, went slowly crazy. The problem with doing many things at once (at least for me) is that they don't get done well. The only reward is having quickly run a race. The benefit seemed small in relation to the nutty way my head and body would feel afterward.
Now I try to 'be in the moment' (don't like that phrase, but it seems to work), and do what I do right then and there. Not look too far ahead, but experience life in that small stretch of time. And it's HARD. Constant interruptions, and rare quiet make it a challenge to just pay attention to what's in front of me. But I'm happier when I do. Just. Do. Now. Only that.
It's cold-cold again. The hens get all huddled up outside and tuck their beaks into their feathers, swan-style. That's what the least one calls it. Right now they're in their coop fussing to be let out. The big dogs have been running around out there, oblivious to the cold (in the 20's, I think). Youngest son just let the dogs back inside, but the chickens are fussing. It's warmer in the chicken coop, but they don't like to be shut in there in the daytime. They get downright cranky.
On to other things...
I ran across a quote in the Robert Benson Living Prayer book by the Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh that rang a bell with me last night. The monk was asked what monks do, and he answered, "We walk and we sit and we eat." The other person asked, "Is that all?" The reply was, "Yes. But when we walk, we know we are walking, and when we sit, we know we are sitting, and when we eat, we know we are eating."
That made me stop and think. We've been sold a bill of goods about how we should multi-task all the time. Not sure if this is a modern-day thing, or what. I think it is. I've mentioned this before, but there's a Christian writer who wrote several books about multi-tasking, and getting as much done in a small stretch of time as possible. When I was a young mother, I bought into that method, but in the meantime, went slowly crazy. The problem with doing many things at once (at least for me) is that they don't get done well. The only reward is having quickly run a race. The benefit seemed small in relation to the nutty way my head and body would feel afterward.
Now I try to 'be in the moment' (don't like that phrase, but it seems to work), and do what I do right then and there. Not look too far ahead, but experience life in that small stretch of time. And it's HARD. Constant interruptions, and rare quiet make it a challenge to just pay attention to what's in front of me. But I'm happier when I do. Just. Do. Now. Only that.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
In the afternoon
Lying in bed, a pile of new library books by my side and an hour to kill before going to pick up fourth son. Oldest daughter dropped me off at my mom's house this morning before going to her job, so I could pay mom's bills and get her car to drive for the day.
Did the bill-paying, took Mom her clean clothes, had a very sweet visit with her, and then stopped at the store for dinner and came back home. Rested just a minute, then took the three youngest to the library. Nice to be back here now, all settled and cozy. I enjoy having the luxury of Mom's car from time to time, but being home is the absolute ultimate in wonderful-ness.
I can hear the chickens outside my bedroom window. They're pecking at something---most likely the scraps off of a plate one of the girls left out there. I can hear the plate wobble on the concrete, as their big old feet step into the bits left behind. It's cold outside, but thankfully it's sunny. We've avoided the snow the folks up North have had to contend with. I can bear the cold temperatures if there's sun to enjoy. But for only so many days. If much of the deep cold hangs around I get agitated. Even at the library, after youngest son went upstairs to the adult fiction section, the girls and I headed to the children's section of books. They had already grabbed a couple of books in the 7-day room and made a bee-line to the plate glass windows facing the sun. Sat down and drank in the heat. Just like cats. I followed suit and was able to slow down in my head.
Now the day unfolds nicely ahead of me. After we pick up fourth son, we'll come home and make chicken pie. Hopefully one of the girls will take my hint and bake a cake. That would round out the day nicely. And having a new (to me) Robert Benson book to read makes everything darn near perfect. Quiet and good.
Did the bill-paying, took Mom her clean clothes, had a very sweet visit with her, and then stopped at the store for dinner and came back home. Rested just a minute, then took the three youngest to the library. Nice to be back here now, all settled and cozy. I enjoy having the luxury of Mom's car from time to time, but being home is the absolute ultimate in wonderful-ness.
I can hear the chickens outside my bedroom window. They're pecking at something---most likely the scraps off of a plate one of the girls left out there. I can hear the plate wobble on the concrete, as their big old feet step into the bits left behind. It's cold outside, but thankfully it's sunny. We've avoided the snow the folks up North have had to contend with. I can bear the cold temperatures if there's sun to enjoy. But for only so many days. If much of the deep cold hangs around I get agitated. Even at the library, after youngest son went upstairs to the adult fiction section, the girls and I headed to the children's section of books. They had already grabbed a couple of books in the 7-day room and made a bee-line to the plate glass windows facing the sun. Sat down and drank in the heat. Just like cats. I followed suit and was able to slow down in my head.
Now the day unfolds nicely ahead of me. After we pick up fourth son, we'll come home and make chicken pie. Hopefully one of the girls will take my hint and bake a cake. That would round out the day nicely. And having a new (to me) Robert Benson book to read makes everything darn near perfect. Quiet and good.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Pain au Chocolat
Many folds later, one cup of softened butter later, multiple rollings of the rolling pin and voila....they turned out very nicely. Yeah, buying puff pastry would've been easier, but this was much more satisfying. Thankful the recipe only makes a dozen. One cup of butter divided up 12 ways is still a lot of buttery goodness.
And actually, trying a new pastry/cake/bread recipe from time to time is a goal for 2014. Would like to make it a regular thing---like every week, but that might make it more of a demand sort of
thing rather than a pleasure.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Saturday afternoon
Had a text from my cousin yesterday---turns out her mom (my mom's sister) has a blood clot in her lung. Nuts. And my cousin had her dad admitted to the same hospital, planning to get him observed to see how fit they are (they definitely are) for some skilled nursing care. The ultimate plan is to find a nursing home type of situation for him, at least short-term so my aunt can be attended to. Not sure how this will fly. He was successfully admitted with issues of dehydration and a low potassium level. It's not pretty. Trying to juggle and do the best thing. Thankfully my other cousin, her brother, is here in town this weekend to help her out. But unfortunately there must be a male gene in our family that give the men an out so that the women have to take over. Some wuss gene, I'm thinking. Man up, I say.
I understand the need to distance yourself from the problem, but usually the problem is still there once you tug your head out of the sand. This male cousin is definitely related to my older brothers. Useless.
Shoot. I'm getting more than my fair share of senior health issues. Getting first hand knowledge of how the system works with Medicare and Medicaid. Good to know, but would rather be doing most anything else.
And boot camp boy was able to make another quick phone call yesterday afternoon---he had five minutes to talk, but cut it short because he said he was about to cry. The upside of the call was that he sounded out-of-breath, saying they'd started basic training for sure yesterday, so maybe keeping active will help his mood. He's in good physical shape, being used to biking or long-boarding everywhere. That's a plus. Very lean. His endurance is good, but he's a homebody, so that's the hard part. Not sure if he'll be able to call again during the thick of the training (next two weeks), but I'm surprised I got to visit with him so much this week anyway.
Oldest daughter's begun to watch me, seeing that I don't get overwhelmed. I'm able to turn off my aunt's and uncle's medical problems in my head. Will probably have to tell my mom soon, being that she talks to her sister everyday and will wonder why she's not answering her phone. Not sure that protecting her from the knowledge is a good idea, but she might be glad my aunt is in the hospital and not slaving at home over my uncle, whose increasing dementia makes everyday a dark adventure.
And so it goes. Planning on having a nice, simmery dinner tomorrow, so that the house smells good and we all feel comforted. You do the same. :)
I understand the need to distance yourself from the problem, but usually the problem is still there once you tug your head out of the sand. This male cousin is definitely related to my older brothers. Useless.
Shoot. I'm getting more than my fair share of senior health issues. Getting first hand knowledge of how the system works with Medicare and Medicaid. Good to know, but would rather be doing most anything else.
And boot camp boy was able to make another quick phone call yesterday afternoon---he had five minutes to talk, but cut it short because he said he was about to cry. The upside of the call was that he sounded out-of-breath, saying they'd started basic training for sure yesterday, so maybe keeping active will help his mood. He's in good physical shape, being used to biking or long-boarding everywhere. That's a plus. Very lean. His endurance is good, but he's a homebody, so that's the hard part. Not sure if he'll be able to call again during the thick of the training (next two weeks), but I'm surprised I got to visit with him so much this week anyway.
Oldest daughter's begun to watch me, seeing that I don't get overwhelmed. I'm able to turn off my aunt's and uncle's medical problems in my head. Will probably have to tell my mom soon, being that she talks to her sister everyday and will wonder why she's not answering her phone. Not sure that protecting her from the knowledge is a good idea, but she might be glad my aunt is in the hospital and not slaving at home over my uncle, whose increasing dementia makes everyday a dark adventure.
And so it goes. Planning on having a nice, simmery dinner tomorrow, so that the house smells good and we all feel comforted. You do the same. :)
Friday, January 17, 2014
Morning panorama...
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| ~Daisy the Pug, Violet is in my lap |
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| ~View straight ahead from my chair |
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| ~Trigger the Conure still covered up |
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Busy day
Best news of the day---third son called from Boot Camp this morning. Surprised he still had his cellphone, and even said he wasn't sure he was allowed to call, but he HAD to. It was brief. He's desperately homesick, sleep deprived (still getting settled with shots, etc.) even with the official start of Basic Training not starting 'til Monday. Guess they're getting them prepared. He was near tears before he hung up, but still, it was a joy to hear his voice. This is where 'praying without ceasing' really speaks to my heart. I came out and asked him if he was still glad to be doing this, and he said he was, just exhausted.
And spent the better part of the day with my aunt (my mom's sister) at the hospital. My cousin had put a note on another relative's Facebook status about my aunt/her mom being in the hospital suffering from shortness of breath. It was purely by accident (?) that oldest daughter noticed it. Tell me, why do folks (even relatives) not tell you stuff directly but leave it to chance? That's the oddest way to communicate, but the norm these days.
Anyway, my aunt, who's 92, takes care of my uncle, who's 88 and has dementia and plain grumpiness. When he had to stop working awhile back---older than you'd think, it was like he lost the joy. He became very dependent and it's like the reality of growing older just broke his heart. Now he's needful of everything to be done for him, including having diaper changes. And at 92, this is more than my aunt can bear, but she's bearing it. Now she has, what appears to be, congestive heart failure, with shallow breath, bad swelling in her legs, and difficulty breathing if she's flat on her back. Seems her lungs fill a bit. She's on a significant amount of medication, which is keeping her alive, but she's not got any joy either. Life is just plain hard.
Watching my mom struggle with the simplest task and hearing her voice altered by the stroke, compounded by her sister having a tough time is challenging. Interestingly enough, all the women on my mom's side of the family are long-lived. Best to be prepared. :)
For tomorrow, just want to be home. Just that.
And spent the better part of the day with my aunt (my mom's sister) at the hospital. My cousin had put a note on another relative's Facebook status about my aunt/her mom being in the hospital suffering from shortness of breath. It was purely by accident (?) that oldest daughter noticed it. Tell me, why do folks (even relatives) not tell you stuff directly but leave it to chance? That's the oddest way to communicate, but the norm these days.
Anyway, my aunt, who's 92, takes care of my uncle, who's 88 and has dementia and plain grumpiness. When he had to stop working awhile back---older than you'd think, it was like he lost the joy. He became very dependent and it's like the reality of growing older just broke his heart. Now he's needful of everything to be done for him, including having diaper changes. And at 92, this is more than my aunt can bear, but she's bearing it. Now she has, what appears to be, congestive heart failure, with shallow breath, bad swelling in her legs, and difficulty breathing if she's flat on her back. Seems her lungs fill a bit. She's on a significant amount of medication, which is keeping her alive, but she's not got any joy either. Life is just plain hard.
Watching my mom struggle with the simplest task and hearing her voice altered by the stroke, compounded by her sister having a tough time is challenging. Interestingly enough, all the women on my mom's side of the family are long-lived. Best to be prepared. :)
For tomorrow, just want to be home. Just that.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
My life in decades...
Twenties: Graduated from college with an Interior Design degree, met my husband a month after graduation---married within 9 months time, worked for a commercial Interior Design firm, quit job before children came, had two babies, moved four times, once out-of-town and back.
Thirties: Bought our house (where we still live), had five more babies (3 born at home), began to have migraines, began writing seriously and sending things to publishers (no takers, but overall, a good experience), was involved in a very active online counted cross-stitch group, also member of a budding (now very popular and successful) Classical homeschooling list.
Forties: Had a miscarriage as a result of a car accident involving a drunk driver while we were out of town---that event changed my mental state forever, had one more baby (at home), felt the pinch of so many small children along with homeschooling, overwhelmed at 'oftentimes' low income, realized that I suffer from mild depression, began moderately popular email list directed at young mothers-at-home, eventually left both stitching and homeschooling groups, also closed my own email list after about 6+ years of posting.
Fifties: Closed companion website to email list, became confirmed in Anglican Church, began herbal studies, got a tattoo, and am feeling more comfortable in my own skin. Learning to say no to what isn't really mine to say yes to, making decisions based more on what I believe/think than others.
Now, this year, things seem to be falling into place, or maybe I'm finally growing up. In looking over the above writing, my fifties seem to be the best of the lot. Funny that. About the finances, I'm realizing at the ripe old age of 54 that the Lord has His way whether I involve myself or not. He really is in charge. I can kick and scream and fuss all I want, but He is Sovereign. Along with that it seems my mom's stroke has helped me put life into more perspective. Living with scarce funds is hard. A stroke is REALLY hard. What for years had my knickers in a twist isn't so difficult to stomach anymore. Well, I say that today. Who knows what I'll think tomorrow or next week.
Anyway, I guess my fifties are about possibly getting my ducks in a row. The days of extreme vanity are, pretty much, over. I'm not so concerned with what folks think. More realistic about how I look and who I really am. I'm just regular. Okay, I'm unique in my husband's and the Lord's eyes, but fame won't be my calling card, and being satisfied with my home and family is enough. In that way I'm regular.
And now I'm more into self-care. To focus on slowing down, respecting the reality of growing older, and relishing the days. It really is passing so quickly, and maybe the harsh truth of my mom's recovery has been a wake-up call. We really do run around all the time, thinking we have to accomplish so much, driving our kids to the extreme, and setting a bad example. Time to quit, take note of what does and doesn't need doing and really live. Easier said than done, yes?
Monday, January 13, 2014
Here and there
Well, third son made it to his destination in South Carolina today, and called me from the airport. He's met his drill sergeant---"Call me Drill Sergeant." I'd already talked to him a few times today, in between flights. Unfortunately he's suffering so much from fatigue of the past few days that life doesn't hold much interest just now. He's having that Uh-oh moment we sometimes have when life has bitten off more than we can bear. I was telling the younger ones earlier that there are certain decisions we make that are the sort you can't turn your back on. I consider marriage one of them, and the oath given at a military swearing in is the other one. And while both are legally binding, the second one can land you in jail if you change your mind.
Here's an odd thing---so many folks have said that this military experience, esp. the Basic Training will be good for this particular son, who's had a very challenging year. Everyone who's said it'll be the making of him have absolutely no experience in any branch of the military. What do we know? I just find that mildly amusing. Easy to get cocky and all know-it-all-y when you've never been yelled at by a strange man in a uniform. I more trust the ones who've said if you can get through the first 2 weeks, you'll survive. Much more honest.
On a more lively note, my mom called me this morning after her physical therapy session saying that she walked alone, totally unassisted today. She was so proud. Her therapist stood ahead of her, and kept moving backwards. This is excellent news, and a huge encouragement to her. One more step in the right direction. Anyway, as we were talking, she said her own father was stationed at the same place (during WWI) where third son will go. I call that pretty amazing. If I was a believer in karma, I'd say that was karma. As it is, I say it's a darn wonderful coincidence from the Lord.
Prayers appreciated for my overwhelmed boy---Joseph.
Here's an odd thing---so many folks have said that this military experience, esp. the Basic Training will be good for this particular son, who's had a very challenging year. Everyone who's said it'll be the making of him have absolutely no experience in any branch of the military. What do we know? I just find that mildly amusing. Easy to get cocky and all know-it-all-y when you've never been yelled at by a strange man in a uniform. I more trust the ones who've said if you can get through the first 2 weeks, you'll survive. Much more honest.
On a more lively note, my mom called me this morning after her physical therapy session saying that she walked alone, totally unassisted today. She was so proud. Her therapist stood ahead of her, and kept moving backwards. This is excellent news, and a huge encouragement to her. One more step in the right direction. Anyway, as we were talking, she said her own father was stationed at the same place (during WWI) where third son will go. I call that pretty amazing. If I was a believer in karma, I'd say that was karma. As it is, I say it's a darn wonderful coincidence from the Lord.
Prayers appreciated for my overwhelmed boy---Joseph.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Sunday afternoon
I'm in bed taking a rest. Curtain open to the sunshine. The chickens are clucking and making noise outside our room. Every so often they peck at the house's siding, hopping up and trying to get fuzz or whatever they see stuck to the wood. Can't be much there in the midst of winter. Peck, peck, peck. But they're happy with it sunny outside. I took them a spent bowl of chopped up lettuce earlier and enjoyed having the sun warm my hair while they munched.
My heart has been going hippity-hop for the past 24 hours, I think except for when I've slept. The beats go irregular when I'm stressed. A bit of a sodden mess. Anxiety. Sending our son off tomorrow is proving a bit more challenging than I first expected. I think I'm tough, then prove that I'm not. He's at drill here in town now, and was yesterday as well. Today they do sprints, push-ups and the stuff that beginning soldiers do. Tomorrow he'll be able to experience a plane ride for the first time. Now, that's exciting. Gary is reminding me that this isn't torture for our son, but a new adventure---one he took on himself. He did have the option to not join the Guard. Have to keep that in mind. I keep thinking he's being made to do all this, maybe in my mind having the thought of 'why in the world' would anyone walk into this situation willingly? But it'll be okay. I just have to get my head around it. The Guard sure beats the other branches of the military, hands down, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, he will be back home before summer. But when he told me the other day how much he'll miss being home---what mother could resist that?
Mothering. Sometimes it's more than I can bear. If I'd think of it along the lines of him going off to college, maybe I wouldn't be such a mess. First child off like this, though, makes a difference. But the two older boys moving across town to an apartment doesn't hold a candle to this. It is a big deal.
My heart has been going hippity-hop for the past 24 hours, I think except for when I've slept. The beats go irregular when I'm stressed. A bit of a sodden mess. Anxiety. Sending our son off tomorrow is proving a bit more challenging than I first expected. I think I'm tough, then prove that I'm not. He's at drill here in town now, and was yesterday as well. Today they do sprints, push-ups and the stuff that beginning soldiers do. Tomorrow he'll be able to experience a plane ride for the first time. Now, that's exciting. Gary is reminding me that this isn't torture for our son, but a new adventure---one he took on himself. He did have the option to not join the Guard. Have to keep that in mind. I keep thinking he's being made to do all this, maybe in my mind having the thought of 'why in the world' would anyone walk into this situation willingly? But it'll be okay. I just have to get my head around it. The Guard sure beats the other branches of the military, hands down, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, he will be back home before summer. But when he told me the other day how much he'll miss being home---what mother could resist that?
Mothering. Sometimes it's more than I can bear. If I'd think of it along the lines of him going off to college, maybe I wouldn't be such a mess. First child off like this, though, makes a difference. But the two older boys moving across town to an apartment doesn't hold a candle to this. It is a big deal.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Winding down the week
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| ~the least one inside holding Milk, best chicken EVER |
Our son who's going to Basic Training spent lots of time when he was younger reading encyclopedias. And he's got a scary memory for geography. Ask him where a certain country is---doesn't matter how obscure, and he can visualize it in his head and is always right. A geographical savant, I guess.
Feel better for having an easier schedule in mind. My brain is so drained of---well, whatever it is brains are drained of. My mom will likely be back to her home in mid-March, or sooner, I guess if she hits a real plateau in her improvement. About the same week, third son will be done with Basic and will have graduation. I figure if I can get a handle on LIFE before then, I'll have an advantage. Will have to get back to you on that one.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
A chilly, rainy Thursday
Must've thrown off a fever this morning. Just running a tad slow. Have spent the day in my jammies, and convinced Gary to stay home as well. Just so deeply tired, all of us, and it's been a refreshment to be idle. Lesley at Wisteria & Sunshine recommended 'Jane Austen Regrets' as a movie to watch, and it's free on YouTube, so am to the fifth installment, and am purposefully holding the remaining 3 parts until this evening, as a treat.
Love having things to look forward to. More than the actual thing. Have always been that way.
Anyway, fourth son wants, maybe more than any of us (if it's possible) to have a very special dinner tomorrow night for third son before he leaves for his training. He goes to some sort of weekend indoctrination at the base here Saturday and Sunday, but we think he'll be sleeping at home. Tomorrow night is the last chance to do up something special for him. Sweet that the kids are so enthusiastic.
So, after dinner, fourth son and I will go buy dinner fixings. Going slowly.
Thinking the next few days need to be slow anyhow.
Take care.
Love having things to look forward to. More than the actual thing. Have always been that way.
Anyway, fourth son wants, maybe more than any of us (if it's possible) to have a very special dinner tomorrow night for third son before he leaves for his training. He goes to some sort of weekend indoctrination at the base here Saturday and Sunday, but we think he'll be sleeping at home. Tomorrow night is the last chance to do up something special for him. Sweet that the kids are so enthusiastic.
So, after dinner, fourth son and I will go buy dinner fixings. Going slowly.
Thinking the next few days need to be slow anyhow.
Take care.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Mid-week
I think we need a spring tonic around these parts. Apparently the flu depleted us to the point of being open to any and all infections. And we're tired. So very tired. I think we didn't get well from the flu, then we had Christmas, now the drama of third son leaving this Monday, and my mom being a constant dripping faucet of worry. It's too much, and I'm not ashamed to say so.
Today I've made a concerted effort to rest. I've had things to do, but have applied myself to slowing down. I did take third son out to lunch, to celebrate his new adventure, and had to pop in the store. And later had to pick up oldest daughter at work since I was borrowing her truck for all this running around. But still, I'm applying myself to rest.
Tomorrow will be better. Will follow my friends' suggestions on school with a more laid-back schedule for this month. Still ringing in my ears from my mom's first days on the stroke floor of the hospital, her saying she wished she'd had more fun. Stunning admission. Simply stunning.
Today I've made a concerted effort to rest. I've had things to do, but have applied myself to slowing down. I did take third son out to lunch, to celebrate his new adventure, and had to pop in the store. And later had to pick up oldest daughter at work since I was borrowing her truck for all this running around. But still, I'm applying myself to rest.
Tomorrow will be better. Will follow my friends' suggestions on school with a more laid-back schedule for this month. Still ringing in my ears from my mom's first days on the stroke floor of the hospital, her saying she wished she'd had more fun. Stunning admission. Simply stunning.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Still shivery.....bbrrrrr
Well, doggone it. Seems I've caught the mild queasy stomach thing second son has had. I noticed yesterday (he's well now and didn't miss any work) that he looked thinner. Now, with him being tall and lanky, a few pounds shows, so it wouldn't take much for him to look even lankier.
I think our immune systems have gone to pot. And the cold weather hasn't helped, but there's hope in the air. The temperatures are gradually rising this afternoon, though we're still below freezing. Forties tomorrow? Can it be so?
And I'm burned out on homeschooling. Hard to get back in the swing of things, partly by feeling frozen physically, but mentally as well.
A brain holiday would be nice. Anyone offering to take my brain off my hands for awhile? I'm open!
I think our immune systems have gone to pot. And the cold weather hasn't helped, but there's hope in the air. The temperatures are gradually rising this afternoon, though we're still below freezing. Forties tomorrow? Can it be so?
And I'm burned out on homeschooling. Hard to get back in the swing of things, partly by feeling frozen physically, but mentally as well.
A brain holiday would be nice. Anyone offering to take my brain off my hands for awhile? I'm open!
Monday, January 6, 2014
Monday late afternoon
Sixteen degrees now. Higher than my friends up North, not as warm as my favorites on the East coast. Still, it's 16 degrees. No comparison to my dear Tina in California. :) Supposed to be in the fifties on Friday. Can't come soon enough.
Stew simmering. Drinking a hot cup of Earl Grey. Pugs cozied up in blankets on the sofa. Big dogs indifferent, and chompin' at the bit to be let outside. Chickens survived the night, and we've been stuffing them full of warm food all day. Now they're eating some seed before getting on their roost. So glad they roost without direction. In the winter months, by about five o'clock, they're in the hen house, all snug and side-by-side. There's room in the coop for the five of them as adults to sit in a row. Figure that's warm enough. It was last night.
Honestly, I slept so poorly last night---kept thinking about them, fearing frost-bitten combs, but not so. They bounded out of the coop this morning at seven fine and dandy. Exhale.
So much energy is expended in just keeping warm. Do you find it so? It's exhausting. Makes me tense, but thankful we had no snow, and it's been sunny and clear today. It'll pass.
Stew simmering. Drinking a hot cup of Earl Grey. Pugs cozied up in blankets on the sofa. Big dogs indifferent, and chompin' at the bit to be let outside. Chickens survived the night, and we've been stuffing them full of warm food all day. Now they're eating some seed before getting on their roost. So glad they roost without direction. In the winter months, by about five o'clock, they're in the hen house, all snug and side-by-side. There's room in the coop for the five of them as adults to sit in a row. Figure that's warm enough. It was last night.
Honestly, I slept so poorly last night---kept thinking about them, fearing frost-bitten combs, but not so. They bounded out of the coop this morning at seven fine and dandy. Exhale.
So much energy is expended in just keeping warm. Do you find it so? It's exhausting. Makes me tense, but thankful we had no snow, and it's been sunny and clear today. It'll pass.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Saturday night
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| ~blueberry tea and cookies from middle daughter |
And went to see Mom again today and take her clothes with oldest daughter. A good visit. She'd been tired when we visited her last night, so it was encouraging to see her perky. Or as perky as she gets. She admits to having troubles related to the stroke. She knows she's not right in the head. I think that's a plus, just realizing that. I mean really, you'd have to be aware that life isn't normal.
She's working at it, and I'm glad of that. Has a goal of walking with a cane of sorts and not the walker. Goals are crucial. And gratefully, she said she wanted to pay for our groceries today, which was wonderful. A nice surprise, and her way of saying thank you. Our relationship continues to improve. I think we both want to let by-gones be by-gones----you know what I mean.
For those of you in the path of this coldness, hunker down and stay cozy. I'll do the same.
Friday, January 3, 2014
AnGstY
Not the day I thought it would be. You know those ones you're psyched up about, with plans to make happen, etc. Not today.
I got a call from my mom this morning, on her cellphone, and first off, I couldn't hardly hear her. Must be the volume was messed with when we helped her get it charged up the other day. When oldest daughter and I went there on Monday, Mom was all bent over trying to get the tiny cover off the place on the side of the phone where you plug it in and you could tell it was aggravating her. The easiest chore is suddenly very difficult. And so we take it and do it quick-time. Must be maddening. I didn't check to see if it worked afterward, so maybe she'd hit the volume control on the side. I have no idea.
Anyway, was thinking I'd bake today, and finish cleaning up from Christmas. I don't know. There's something about my mom's situation that just eats at me. When I'm at home, I try to put her problems aside, so I can deal with my own issues and busyness. When she calls, it's always for something (which I understand), but it's difficult because she doesn't ask anyone else for help. I'm the go-to person. She needs $20 for something which I'll take her later, and I need to pick up her clothes to wash, pay her bills at her house, make sure the pipes are dripping because of the cold, etc. I sound like an ungrateful daughter, but really don't mean to. It all just makes me cranky. Wouldn't mind if she asked my brother who visits her regularly to do her chores for a change. She does say thank-you, but still. Do you get where I'm going with this?
I think partly it's because I've read (and experienced now with her) that there can be a disconnect with what they say and what they sound like. Her social skills are sadly lacking, and she comes across more like a child who wants things done for them. Now. The other day, oldest daughter and I walked into her room, I put away her clean clothes into the dresser and immediately she says, "Where's my make-up?" Whoops. Of course I'd forgotten it. That's the pattern. Used to, she'd hint at what she wanted done. Like, saying the light was out in a room, meaning you needed to get on a chair and change it. She'd never be direct and ask for help. Now, she's bossy-sounding, but I'm sure she doesn't mean to. She calls, gets right the the point and is off the phone. Very hard to get used to. Social graces? Not there anymore, but not to say they're gone for good. Just missing now. Strokes sure have a varied path of destruction.
I got a call from my mom this morning, on her cellphone, and first off, I couldn't hardly hear her. Must be the volume was messed with when we helped her get it charged up the other day. When oldest daughter and I went there on Monday, Mom was all bent over trying to get the tiny cover off the place on the side of the phone where you plug it in and you could tell it was aggravating her. The easiest chore is suddenly very difficult. And so we take it and do it quick-time. Must be maddening. I didn't check to see if it worked afterward, so maybe she'd hit the volume control on the side. I have no idea.
Anyway, was thinking I'd bake today, and finish cleaning up from Christmas. I don't know. There's something about my mom's situation that just eats at me. When I'm at home, I try to put her problems aside, so I can deal with my own issues and busyness. When she calls, it's always for something (which I understand), but it's difficult because she doesn't ask anyone else for help. I'm the go-to person. She needs $20 for something which I'll take her later, and I need to pick up her clothes to wash, pay her bills at her house, make sure the pipes are dripping because of the cold, etc. I sound like an ungrateful daughter, but really don't mean to. It all just makes me cranky. Wouldn't mind if she asked my brother who visits her regularly to do her chores for a change. She does say thank-you, but still. Do you get where I'm going with this?
I think partly it's because I've read (and experienced now with her) that there can be a disconnect with what they say and what they sound like. Her social skills are sadly lacking, and she comes across more like a child who wants things done for them. Now. The other day, oldest daughter and I walked into her room, I put away her clean clothes into the dresser and immediately she says, "Where's my make-up?" Whoops. Of course I'd forgotten it. That's the pattern. Used to, she'd hint at what she wanted done. Like, saying the light was out in a room, meaning you needed to get on a chair and change it. She'd never be direct and ask for help. Now, she's bossy-sounding, but I'm sure she doesn't mean to. She calls, gets right the the point and is off the phone. Very hard to get used to. Social graces? Not there anymore, but not to say they're gone for good. Just missing now. Strokes sure have a varied path of destruction.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Yeasty goodness
First day of my year-long challenge. No Julie and Julia moments for me. My life isn't quite that dramatic. Just a collection of successes and failures. And all served up as lovely bread. I'd love to plan on one new recipe a week, but we'll see how that goes.
First one: Pain au Chocolat
Back later.
First one: Pain au Chocolat
Back later.
Goals for the third of January
To try once again to get into Emily P. Freeman's book called A Million Little Ways---Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live. For the life of me, I can't get into this book. I even went to Amazon and Good Reads to see reviews to see if anyone else had posted anything that even smacks of a tiny bit of a doubtfulness. The answer's no. And when I ordered it, I was so excited. Got the book, read into it and it fell flat. Anyway, am setting myself a goal of a chapter a day, thinking that surely I'm missing something. Anything. Maybe it's not my style. I just don't know.
And am making Pain Au Chocolat tomorrow. That yummy French Croissant-style bread with chocolate in the middle. I wanted to find a detailed recipe the other day and one site said to get a croissant, slice it open and spread it with Nutella. Are you kidding me? Not even. And I found a recipe that calls for you to take four days to make it. No. Finally found one that takes a total of 3-4 hours. That sounds perfect.
Thinking I want a goal of making something during the year as a routine. I'm thinking bread. Of all the things I make in the kitchen, bread's my favorite. Maybe one thing a week. Maybe not, but as I said, it's a goal.
New things to think about. I'm liking that.
And am making Pain Au Chocolat tomorrow. That yummy French Croissant-style bread with chocolate in the middle. I wanted to find a detailed recipe the other day and one site said to get a croissant, slice it open and spread it with Nutella. Are you kidding me? Not even. And I found a recipe that calls for you to take four days to make it. No. Finally found one that takes a total of 3-4 hours. That sounds perfect.
Thinking I want a goal of making something during the year as a routine. I'm thinking bread. Of all the things I make in the kitchen, bread's my favorite. Maybe one thing a week. Maybe not, but as I said, it's a goal.
New things to think about. I'm liking that.
On the Eighth Day of Christmas
Well, my to-do list isn't following through as I expected, and that's only because with the living room/dining room in disarray, plus the kitchen just feeling grungy, it was a toss-up to pick only one area. Wanted to clean behind appliances---I exaggerate, not 'wanted to' but 'need to' is more like it. That will have to wait until tomorrow---or even later than that. Today's focus was the living room, and putting up some of my Valentine's Day pretties.
Love how the house looks so fresh, though, after putting away decorations. Doesn't everyone feel that way? The rooms feel larger, and getting it vacuumed and dusted thoroughly feels good.
Not much else going on. Only would love it if I had the energy of a younger person and could get more done at a time. I'll have to accept my limitations, however, and be proud of what was finished. Moving the living room furniture is a treat, and seeing things from a different vantage point is a refreshment. The same old/same old is plain boring.
Now will shuffle around assorted boxes and shove things out of my way so's I can cook dinner. Enjoy your time off, if you still have some. We're not beginning school back until Monday, so all is well here.
Love how the house looks so fresh, though, after putting away decorations. Doesn't everyone feel that way? The rooms feel larger, and getting it vacuumed and dusted thoroughly feels good.
Not much else going on. Only would love it if I had the energy of a younger person and could get more done at a time. I'll have to accept my limitations, however, and be proud of what was finished. Moving the living room furniture is a treat, and seeing things from a different vantage point is a refreshment. The same old/same old is plain boring.
Now will shuffle around assorted boxes and shove things out of my way so's I can cook dinner. Enjoy your time off, if you still have some. We're not beginning school back until Monday, so all is well here.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
New Year's night
Thoughts on the fresh days ahead of me. I tend to go at my tasks in a slap-dash sort of way, not making lists and just hopeful that everything gets done in a timely manner. And by the end of a particular day, it seems all I've accomplished is LOTS of laundry and dinner. Seriously.
With us doing the clothes of the two boys who've moved out (once a week, they bring their baskets---which is fine, they supply me with detergent, etc.), and my mom's twice a week, plus our clothes, it seems the washer and dryer are running all the time, and the clothes lines stay filled. My goodness, that's almost a full-time job.
My goal this year, as I mentioned earlier, is to take better care of myself. When my mom was first in the hospital, one visit of the neurologist stands out in my mind. He asked her if she took a daily aspirin and she told him she did occasionally. He cut a glance at me, and told her that that didn't work, that she had to be diligent with it. So, today I bought the low-grade aspirin for myself. Got on the treadmill, and tried to settle my nerves, not with a snack, but with something more healthy for me. Food has been a drug for years, the go-to thing that's been the soother. Must. Stop. That. But it might take some time. First have to feel worthy of care and attention. Sad, isn't it?
And opened a new journal--the one my dearest Tina brought me back from Paris awhile back. I've already been pasting pictures in it, and now am adding words.
Now must go. These new ideas in my head are challenging, but all for the good. As always, baby steps.
With us doing the clothes of the two boys who've moved out (once a week, they bring their baskets---which is fine, they supply me with detergent, etc.), and my mom's twice a week, plus our clothes, it seems the washer and dryer are running all the time, and the clothes lines stay filled. My goodness, that's almost a full-time job.
My goal this year, as I mentioned earlier, is to take better care of myself. When my mom was first in the hospital, one visit of the neurologist stands out in my mind. He asked her if she took a daily aspirin and she told him she did occasionally. He cut a glance at me, and told her that that didn't work, that she had to be diligent with it. So, today I bought the low-grade aspirin for myself. Got on the treadmill, and tried to settle my nerves, not with a snack, but with something more healthy for me. Food has been a drug for years, the go-to thing that's been the soother. Must. Stop. That. But it might take some time. First have to feel worthy of care and attention. Sad, isn't it?
And opened a new journal--the one my dearest Tina brought me back from Paris awhile back. I've already been pasting pictures in it, and now am adding words.
Now must go. These new ideas in my head are challenging, but all for the good. As always, baby steps.
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