I got word today that my 3 grandsons will be arriving on December 14th to stay for 2 weeks. I am ecstatic beyond words. Instantly I pull open a December Calendar page on my computer and begin plugging in fun things to do each day with the boys.
My only 3 grandkids live half way across the United States and I will want to wring every possible minute for all it is worth while they are here, all while juggling the extra cooking and cleaning and limited sleeping when our smallish house is full of as many as 13 people and two dogs plus puppies due soon. While they are here there will always be someone eating, though not always someone washing dishes, always someone in one of the two bathrooms, though seldom does the Lysol and Windex get applied, and as it will be winter, there will be layers of clothing and socks and wet gloves, so the washer and the dryer will always be running. Oh, and I need to remember to hide the Sharpees.
I honestly don't mind the chaos and the work. I will make a lot of the food in the weeks prior to their arrival and freeze it ahead, that will make dinner time easier. I will check with the grand kids to find out their favorite dinners so that dinner-times have fewer melt downs. Oh, wait, did I say grand kids? Oh please, my 17 year old is pickier than the 3 grand kids put together, and I have 3 other kids who have a long list of quirky food allergies.
Anyway, as I add to my calendar "Ginger Bread Houses" for the 17th and "Build Snowmen" on the 20th, I come to the 21st, Winter Solstice. I decide to do a little reading on Wikipedia to see if it sparks a fun idea for a way to make that day fun. That page comes up on the screen and I am reading along, and hit this sentence, "The Saami, indigenous people of Finland, Sweden and Norway, worship Beiwe, the sun-goddess of fertility and sanity."
Fertility and Sanity coming from the same Goddess?
That's the best laugh I have had in a long time.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Primroses
Hooray! The grocery store where I usually shop had primroses out front this week! A single rack filled with a dozen trays, happy hopeful flowers of bright yellow, deep red, and joyful pink.
In the world there are a lot more complex flowers than the primrose, more heat resistant, some better for arranging, some more flamboyant. But I think primroses the bravest, for they are the ones that show up first, and can keep themselves together, even if winter isn't quite through blasting us. They bravely go to the front lines of our imaginations, reminding us that there is more to life than winter and inversion and shades of gray, dead brown and more gray. "Spring is coming," they announce, "Somewhere under the snow there is hope".
It was warm enough on Saturday that I tied up my walking shoes and walked outside for the first time since November. The smell of things warming up was so wonderful that I started to get light headed from all the deep breathing. I was disgustingly cheerful as I called out to other walkers who couldn't resist getting out of the house as well. I live on a road that leads up to a lovely little canyon, and it was a steady stream of folks who just had to see for themselves if their favorite trails might not have disappeared completely after all the snow storms.
Though I had planned to walk at least two miles in any direction before turning around, my footsteps led me to the house of someone close by I know who started chemo therapy at the end of December. I worried I might be disturbing her, but her daughter showed me in and we had a great time chatting. She had been on a short walk that morning, but the second phase of chemo made her back ache, so she was curled up on the couch with a heating pad. She rubbed the few tufts of hair left on her head and said that should know soon if the second drug would allow her to keep what little hair was left. She was thrilled to say that even though she couldn't taste anything, at least her mouth didn't taste like chemicals anymore, and even though she didn't feel like moving much, she didn't feel like throwing up any more either. She thanked me for the gum and scentless lotion that I had brought previously like I had brought her something that took effort and talent. Her eyes, more pronounced with the weight loss, were bright and alert, and hopeful.
She's like those primroses, brave and hopeful. I liked primroses before, but they mean a little more to me now.
In the world there are a lot more complex flowers than the primrose, more heat resistant, some better for arranging, some more flamboyant. But I think primroses the bravest, for they are the ones that show up first, and can keep themselves together, even if winter isn't quite through blasting us. They bravely go to the front lines of our imaginations, reminding us that there is more to life than winter and inversion and shades of gray, dead brown and more gray. "Spring is coming," they announce, "Somewhere under the snow there is hope".
It was warm enough on Saturday that I tied up my walking shoes and walked outside for the first time since November. The smell of things warming up was so wonderful that I started to get light headed from all the deep breathing. I was disgustingly cheerful as I called out to other walkers who couldn't resist getting out of the house as well. I live on a road that leads up to a lovely little canyon, and it was a steady stream of folks who just had to see for themselves if their favorite trails might not have disappeared completely after all the snow storms.
Though I had planned to walk at least two miles in any direction before turning around, my footsteps led me to the house of someone close by I know who started chemo therapy at the end of December. I worried I might be disturbing her, but her daughter showed me in and we had a great time chatting. She had been on a short walk that morning, but the second phase of chemo made her back ache, so she was curled up on the couch with a heating pad. She rubbed the few tufts of hair left on her head and said that should know soon if the second drug would allow her to keep what little hair was left. She was thrilled to say that even though she couldn't taste anything, at least her mouth didn't taste like chemicals anymore, and even though she didn't feel like moving much, she didn't feel like throwing up any more either. She thanked me for the gum and scentless lotion that I had brought previously like I had brought her something that took effort and talent. Her eyes, more pronounced with the weight loss, were bright and alert, and hopeful.
She's like those primroses, brave and hopeful. I liked primroses before, but they mean a little more to me now.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Chores
My kids are getting older and the are being pulled in a thousand directions. Jobs, college, romances, band gigs, church. The only time they seem to settle is when their little bodies can't take it any more and they get sick. Like last weekend Tradition and Potential were both recuperating, one had the sniffles, one still had a post-flu headache. I checked in a couple of times, asked them how they were doing, they replied by writing their response in the dust in the coffee table.
What I am really saying is that I am stuck with all the chores these days. Except I will NOT bathe the dog. Nope, don't like him that much. I support all the good things they are doing, really I do. But I do feel a bit whiney when I have to vacuum the halls now for the first time in 20 years since I started pawning off jobs on them, all in the name of good parenting, of course.
Still, Monday rolled around and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as they all rode off to school and work, and I was left wondering how many rolls of paper towels it would take to get through the mess? So I wrote this on the white board...
"Did anyone do their chores last week?"
Before bed someone replied...
"We love you"
Tuesday morning I wrote...
"Actions speak louder than words"
Later that day I stopped dead in my tracks as I read...
"I can yell super loud"
Where did they learn to be such smart alecs?
What I am really saying is that I am stuck with all the chores these days. Except I will NOT bathe the dog. Nope, don't like him that much. I support all the good things they are doing, really I do. But I do feel a bit whiney when I have to vacuum the halls now for the first time in 20 years since I started pawning off jobs on them, all in the name of good parenting, of course.
Still, Monday rolled around and I was feeling a bit sorry for myself as they all rode off to school and work, and I was left wondering how many rolls of paper towels it would take to get through the mess? So I wrote this on the white board...
"Did anyone do their chores last week?"
Before bed someone replied...
"We love you"
Tuesday morning I wrote...
"Actions speak louder than words"
Later that day I stopped dead in my tracks as I read...
"I can yell super loud"
Where did they learn to be such smart alecs?
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Secret of Life
Whenever I am feeling like I would rather sit in my comfy desk chair, with it's padded seat and arm rests, then get up and do the stuff I should be doing, I justify my sitting by researching nutrition. I love those "Ten Foods to Make Your Ankles Skinnier" and "The Miracle Cure For Disobedient Children Found in Rhubarb". Last week I learned that eating a carrot a day can cut your chances of some cancers by 50%. So once I finally made it out of my desk chair I rearranged the things in the frig so that by moving the rhubarb to the top shelf I couild fit a lot more carrots in the veggie drawer. Phwew, nutrition is hard work!
Now in a previous posting I told you about my darling neighbor, Melba. You will be pleased to know that she is recovering nicely from a fall she had this summer where she broke her back. At least once a day I see her walk past my house with her cane, taking small steps, unrushed, glad to chat with the neighbors with her voice that is barely above a whisper.
Melba's sister was visiting recently from somewhere out of state. Her sister is about ten years older, every bit as whispy in form and no less determined. I chatted with them in church last week, always amazed at how these two widows never miss a beat, a meeting, a smile. I was hauling through the grocery store a couple of days later and saw them slowly emerge from an aisle. They didn't see me but I saw them, and more importantly, I saw what was in their cart. Two gallons of chocolate milk! So awesome! Here I am stuffing carrot after carrot into my mouth and all this time the secret to a long and useful life is Chocolate Milk. Maybe the secret to skinny ankles could be to soak them in chocolate milk, do you think?
Now in a previous posting I told you about my darling neighbor, Melba. You will be pleased to know that she is recovering nicely from a fall she had this summer where she broke her back. At least once a day I see her walk past my house with her cane, taking small steps, unrushed, glad to chat with the neighbors with her voice that is barely above a whisper.
Melba's sister was visiting recently from somewhere out of state. Her sister is about ten years older, every bit as whispy in form and no less determined. I chatted with them in church last week, always amazed at how these two widows never miss a beat, a meeting, a smile. I was hauling through the grocery store a couple of days later and saw them slowly emerge from an aisle. They didn't see me but I saw them, and more importantly, I saw what was in their cart. Two gallons of chocolate milk! So awesome! Here I am stuffing carrot after carrot into my mouth and all this time the secret to a long and useful life is Chocolate Milk. Maybe the secret to skinny ankles could be to soak them in chocolate milk, do you think?
Sunday, October 24, 2010
It's All In The Name
I knew better. I knew better than to go into Joann's Fabrics that close to Halloween. But there I was, number 12 and they were calling 87. All I could do was hope that the numbers turned over at 100, not 1000. But one quick look around made me wonder if the number might not be higher than that, the sea of faces looked more like the amount you would see in a line at Disneyland. Except this was not the happiest place on earth.
I got bored and wandered a bit, looking at rows of ribbons and aisles of buttons, but I did not stray far as I had noticed that the clerks counted to three and a half after calling someone’s number , and if the poor soul whose number they called did not show up, too bad, the next number was called, no mercy. I finally became so insecure that I just parked my cart close enough to see the menacing "Now Serving..." sign and rudely called my daughter on my cell phone. I really did try to keep my voice quiet, but I still got some looks. Twenty minutes later when they called my number, I squeaked out, "gotta go, love ya" and didn't even wait for the reply before hanging up on the poor thing. But she frequents the Joann's near her, so I knew she understood.
The clerk who waited on me was surprisingly cheerful, considering the generally growl-ly nature of the crowd. I commented on the Halloween crowd being it's usual density for this time of the year, and asked her if she thought it would be worse by Christmas. Her eyes got big, and I sensed great fear as she nodded affirmatively. I told her I usually tried to get my Christmas shopping done by Halloween, as I didn't handle Christmas rush lines with any dignity whatsoever. She expressed some admiration that I could be so organized. I told her I was motivated more by desperation after years of some calamity that seemed to hit faithfully in early December (like the three years they called me the week before the church Christmas Party and asked me to organize the entertainment). I laughingly told her that this year I had even scheduled my Winter Cold early. She jokingly said, "Wow, with that kind of efficiency, you could be the next Stephen Covey."
"Na," I said looking down at my fingernails, "that would more likely make me the next Stephen King".
I got bored and wandered a bit, looking at rows of ribbons and aisles of buttons, but I did not stray far as I had noticed that the clerks counted to three and a half after calling someone’s number , and if the poor soul whose number they called did not show up, too bad, the next number was called, no mercy. I finally became so insecure that I just parked my cart close enough to see the menacing "Now Serving..." sign and rudely called my daughter on my cell phone. I really did try to keep my voice quiet, but I still got some looks. Twenty minutes later when they called my number, I squeaked out, "gotta go, love ya" and didn't even wait for the reply before hanging up on the poor thing. But she frequents the Joann's near her, so I knew she understood.
The clerk who waited on me was surprisingly cheerful, considering the generally growl-ly nature of the crowd. I commented on the Halloween crowd being it's usual density for this time of the year, and asked her if she thought it would be worse by Christmas. Her eyes got big, and I sensed great fear as she nodded affirmatively. I told her I usually tried to get my Christmas shopping done by Halloween, as I didn't handle Christmas rush lines with any dignity whatsoever. She expressed some admiration that I could be so organized. I told her I was motivated more by desperation after years of some calamity that seemed to hit faithfully in early December (like the three years they called me the week before the church Christmas Party and asked me to organize the entertainment). I laughingly told her that this year I had even scheduled my Winter Cold early. She jokingly said, "Wow, with that kind of efficiency, you could be the next Stephen Covey."
"Na," I said looking down at my fingernails, "that would more likely make me the next Stephen King".
Sunday, October 17, 2010
All There In Black and White
We had the most fun party on Friday night! I got the idea from my little brother, to have a black and white themed night. So I sent out invitations as follows…
"The night will be all black and chill,
So come to the house upon the hill.
Dress in black and/or dress in white.
Do let your imaginations all take flight!
Don’t be shy, but do be wary...
Dessert in your arms you must carry.
It too must be just white and/or black;
Of course it’s best if…
it threatens to attack!
Please, oh please RSVP in time,
To miss this, indeed, would be a crime!"
We decorated the table all in black and white, served Sprite in a black punch bowl with a fozen face floating in it (that was the hardest part, getting a mask filled up with water and frozen took two days), and served a soup that had black and white beans in it. Here is the recipe:
CHECKERBOARD CHILI
1 T oil
1 c chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 c chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c matchstick cut carrots
4 c chicken broth
2 T cilantro, chopped
2 t ground cumin
1/2 t dried oregano
2 T lime juice
1/4 t red pepper sauce
1/4 salt
1 1/2 c frozen corn
2 can (15oz) black beans
2 can (15oz) white beans
2 c chopped cooked chicken breast
Sauté onions and garlic in oil until tender. Stir in remaining ingredients except chicken. Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer uncovered 20 minutes. Stir in chicken; simmer until hot. Serve with fresh chopped tomatoes and tortilla chips.
And everyone came in black and white costumes! My husband came as a highway, with a white strip down the front of black clothes and road signs taped all over, I came as Animaniacs Dot, Potential was a Gothic Raggedy Ann, Tradition came as a Baker, and Wonder came as Eve from Wall-E. We then played Black and White Jeopardy, with the categories being: Movies, On The menu, All Hallow’s Eve, Jack Black,...And Red All Over. We crammed about 20 people into our little front room and we had a blast. Our guests brought black and white desserts, brownies and homemade oreos and Nutterbutters dipped in white chocolate to look like ghosts. Good people, good food, good times! I am already planning my costume for next Halloween!
"The night will be all black and chill,
So come to the house upon the hill.
Dress in black and/or dress in white.
Do let your imaginations all take flight!
Don’t be shy, but do be wary...
Dessert in your arms you must carry.
It too must be just white and/or black;
Of course it’s best if…
it threatens to attack!
Please, oh please RSVP in time,
To miss this, indeed, would be a crime!"
We decorated the table all in black and white, served Sprite in a black punch bowl with a fozen face floating in it (that was the hardest part, getting a mask filled up with water and frozen took two days), and served a soup that had black and white beans in it. Here is the recipe:
CHECKERBOARD CHILI
1 T oil
1 c chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 c chopped red bell pepper
1/2 c matchstick cut carrots
4 c chicken broth
2 T cilantro, chopped
2 t ground cumin
1/2 t dried oregano
2 T lime juice
1/4 t red pepper sauce
1/4 salt
1 1/2 c frozen corn
2 can (15oz) black beans
2 can (15oz) white beans
2 c chopped cooked chicken breast
Sauté onions and garlic in oil until tender. Stir in remaining ingredients except chicken. Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Simmer uncovered 20 minutes. Stir in chicken; simmer until hot. Serve with fresh chopped tomatoes and tortilla chips.
And everyone came in black and white costumes! My husband came as a highway, with a white strip down the front of black clothes and road signs taped all over, I came as Animaniacs Dot, Potential was a Gothic Raggedy Ann, Tradition came as a Baker, and Wonder came as Eve from Wall-E. We then played Black and White Jeopardy, with the categories being: Movies, On The menu, All Hallow’s Eve, Jack Black,...And Red All Over. We crammed about 20 people into our little front room and we had a blast. Our guests brought black and white desserts, brownies and homemade oreos and Nutterbutters dipped in white chocolate to look like ghosts. Good people, good food, good times! I am already planning my costume for next Halloween!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
For Your Night Time Viewing Pleasure
So I have been sleeping on the couch for a month. The good news is that it is NOT because my husband is not speaking to me, though heaven knows I have given him many chances. I have had bronchitis and it is so much easier to sleep sitting up, and some nights, when it was impossible to sleep, it has been nice to be able to turn on the TV and have some sort of distraction from my beleaguered lungs.
After I had gone through several sets of batteries searching all 700 channels for a show I was allowed to watch, (remember, my children have forbidden me to watch any NCIS or CSI or Criminal Minds), and, heaven forbid, for something that would not set my diminishing IQ back any further, I went to the “On Demand” feature on my remote. From there I began to search through “All TV Series”. So here is a sampler of my favorite viewing options:
Bridal Boot Camp
Chasing Mummies
Deadly Women
I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It
Modern Sniper
Monsters Inside Me
Prison Wives
Scream Queens
Swamp People
Wow.
I had peeked at “Bridezillas” one night, and with four unmarried children of my own, it gave me nightmares, so I skipped “Bridal Boot Camp”. “Chasing Mummies” really didn’t interest me, and I imagined that “Deadly Women” couldn’t be much worse than back to school shopping with my girls when they were teenagers. I started to watch “I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It”, but it was insulting. “Modern Sniper” and “Prison Wives” sounded too much like the shows I have been banned from watching, and “Monsters Inside Me”, “Scream Queens”,
“Swamp People”, all sounded like something that 15 year old boys who spend too much time playing Halo on the weekend would watch.
So instead, I found an episode of “Animal Hoarders” and watched that.
I want my lungs back. And maybe my life,too.
After I had gone through several sets of batteries searching all 700 channels for a show I was allowed to watch, (remember, my children have forbidden me to watch any NCIS or CSI or Criminal Minds), and, heaven forbid, for something that would not set my diminishing IQ back any further, I went to the “On Demand” feature on my remote. From there I began to search through “All TV Series”. So here is a sampler of my favorite viewing options:
Bridal Boot Camp
Chasing Mummies
Deadly Women
I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It
Modern Sniper
Monsters Inside Me
Prison Wives
Scream Queens
Swamp People
Wow.
I had peeked at “Bridezillas” one night, and with four unmarried children of my own, it gave me nightmares, so I skipped “Bridal Boot Camp”. “Chasing Mummies” really didn’t interest me, and I imagined that “Deadly Women” couldn’t be much worse than back to school shopping with my girls when they were teenagers. I started to watch “I’m Pregnant And I Didn’t Know It”, but it was insulting. “Modern Sniper” and “Prison Wives” sounded too much like the shows I have been banned from watching, and “Monsters Inside Me”, “Scream Queens”,
“Swamp People”, all sounded like something that 15 year old boys who spend too much time playing Halo on the weekend would watch.
So instead, I found an episode of “Animal Hoarders” and watched that.
I want my lungs back. And maybe my life,too.
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