Feeling Disconcerted...

...and strangely detached. I got some very bad news this morning from our Vicar. A friend, the person who used to be our church musician, watched her husband die in front of her last night. 

Yeah. 

I'm still fiddling with that in my head, as we celebrate a day to be thankful and have ourselves surrounded by family, even the Crazy Uncles and the Crabby Aunts. 

He was 59. Diabetic. Took his insulin dose, and somehow, the part that boggles my mind: his sugar crashed. She tried to get sugar down him (she's apparently been down this road before), and it didn't work. He started speaking gibberish, keeled over and was dead on the floor. 

She's calm. Too calm; brain has blocked everything, I think. 

So I met him twice, maybe? They lived far out of town, and he wasn't a church-goer. We would tease him that, in our church, he could walk in and the roof wouldn't cave...

I'm sad and broken-hearted for her for many reasons. 

Today, in among your celebrations, look around the table, and even if in the moment, that relative is driving you nuts? Give thanks for them anyway. 

Wellness Wins...

F/k/a "Weight Watchers." I joined up again. I need to get myself under control; honestly, I tend to "emotionally eat," and I need to curb that. 

WW used to be Weight Watchers, but has recently changed their name & mission to "Wellness Wins" -- so as to not lose the very recognizable logo? Pardon me, my cynicism is showing. 

Anyway, I do eat clean for the most part, and they've changed so a lot of the fruits & veg are "zero points" which is good for me. But I'm kind of shocked at the points values for some stuff, like this Chocolate Protein Chia Pudding that I've recently become addicted to. It's almond milk, chia seeds, 1/4 scoop of  chocolate protein powder and nuts/berries. Shake it all up in a jar, let it set overnight (or in my case,  2 days?). And then you're good to go - add the berries (or fruit you like) and chopped almonds. Breakfast, and it DOES keep you full till lunch. I guess you could use a different flavor of protein powder if you want. But the chocolate does "scratch an itch" especially when you're trying to lose weight. 

But it's like 8 or 9 points. I get 23 for the day, which is fine - it's what I got over the last time I was in. But somehow, this seems to be a great amount for what it is. 

So for the first few weeks, I'm just tracking and "kind of" following the program. I've lost a bit already, just tracking and being more aware of what I'm eating. I'm also logging my exercise, just to get in the groove of doing that. I was on the ElliptiKILL this morning for almost 40 minutes. It's not that I don't like it. I do, seriously. Just don't have the time. 

I survived (mostly) the Thanksgiving meal; though I do love my brandied sweet potatoes, and my mom's stuffing. I didn't bring the stuffing home. I did bring the sweet potatoes home. There's not a lot of brandy in the "brandied" part. About 2 tablespoons or so, over 8 or 9 sweet potatoes. 

Thanksgiving Again...

Today is, of course, Thanksgiving. Apart from the news I gave you up at the top, today was going to be a day of knitting, starting the Christmas baking and doing a few things around the house. 

I'm doing all that, but with that "in a bubble" thing going on in my head. Hubby is doing a turkey breast tonight (leftovers in my family get distributed ASAP). He's working now on an Apple Cranberry Chutney. I'm doing skillet baked potatoes and I did start on the Christmas baking. I've got "Snow on the Mountain" and "Chocolate Shortbread" dough in the fridge; one batch each. I've already done Molasses Ginger Cookies. One batch. 


I'm thinking one batch of each thing I'm doing, except for the Pineapple Crescents and perhaps the Filled Cookies. 

All in all, I love being in my kitchen. It's my happy place, and I'm happiest looking at the"Baking Cupboard" - where all my supplies are. I love my well-stocked kitchen. 

It's where I go when I want to feel like I'm actually in control of something. 

Too often, we're in control of...nothing. 

Here, though? I know my equipment, I know my spices and other ingredients. I know my oven and stove. All my pots are hanging over my head; all my pans are tucked into the cabinets. The spoons, spatulas, whisks and knives are all in their appointed spots. 

Pretty much everything I'm involved in requires scheduling and planning. But in my kitchen, I can be a little bit of a free soul and cook or bake with imagination. 

Today, in my little "baking nook," I was kind of surprised to see that I'm down to one box of unsweetened chocolate. For me? That's actually quite unusual. Somehow, I've got a raft of the semi-sweet, and now I'm down to 1 square (4 oz) of the unsweetened. 

I've added it to the list. Had enough to make the Snow on the Mountain cookies, which required 3 squares. 

I may add to the Christmas Cookie list. Make some almond bread or pear bread. That gives me some alternative items for my cookie trays. I've got time to think about it. 

Tomorrow, more baking, hoping to whack out as much as I can over this long weekend. Hubby can do his during the day, because he's home more; but I need to get mine done while I have time at home. Last year, he did most of it, and while I loved that he did, I was irritated. Yes, irritated. Because I do enjoy it and it bothered me that this most elemental part of the holiday was out of my hands. 

This year, I want to take back a little. Maybe feel like I have something I can contribute. 

Knitting...

Trying to finish The Fourth Hat. I'm kinda over the whole pattern, but I'm plugging along, a few more rows from the decreases. Once I decrease, it'll go faster. I'm anxious to start something new -- or at least pick up something that I'd set aside for these hats. 

My list, in part, is like this:

1. February Lady Sweater
2. Green Sock
3. Petty Harbour Socks
4. Grapevine Wreath Scarf
5. Bigger on the Inside Sock
6. Sole to Sole Sock
7. Cookie A's Monkey Socks (just started...)
8. Kid #2 Afghan

This doesn't include the yarn that I have that needs to be knitted up. The beautiful caramel-color silk and a baby set that I'm planning to stash. Plus some TARDIS Blue Bah Ram Ewe laceweight - I'm still looking at patterns for that one. I have one skein so I need to make it a good one. 

I'll pull something out this weekend. Not sure which of these will be The One, but I've got to get something done that isn't a hat. 

Essential Oils...

Today, in the diffuser, I have Christmas Spirit. It's not "early" - I'll diffuse that a lot in the chilly weather. There's a great blend called "Thankful" (I mean you'd blend this yourself): Two drops EACH: Cypress, Sacred Sandalwood and Idaho Balsam Fir. That's for tomorrow. 

I bought the Llama as a Christmas ornament, but since he stands up on his own? He stands next to my Lantern diffuser. The sheep? Bought that at the Diocesan Convention. It's felted, and it's from L'Arche, Bethlehem. 

And I got something else at the convention: This bath gel. I normally stick to Young Living Essential Oils, but I couldn't resist this gel from Thistle Farms. Find the link here. So much of what they do resonates with me. They bring women out of prostitution, sex trafficking - dangerous situations. And they give them shelter and a job. 

This is a very nice geranium scent. It's worth looking at their site to see if you can help them. I'd rather be helping an organization that gives back. The holidays are coming, and you can do a lot of good with your consumer dollars, if you prefer to shop that way. 

Young Living has a foundation, and we give money to a number of different causes; and they also provide work locally at the farms that are owned by the company or in cooperation with the farmers in other countries. 

We shop for the holidays; may as well do some good on another level if we can, right?

Random Picture...

As I was pottering around the kitchen, trying to wrap my head around my friend's husband's death, I looked out the window. Our milkweed has popped. It's colder than heck outside, even with the sunshine, and there's a bit of a breeze blowing - kind of cuts right through you. I popped out and snapped this picture. 

Just now, I ran out to get some Rosemary off the bush. Using it in the turkey breast and the potatoes. 

Milkweed is blowing in the wind, which I'm sure won't please the neighbors, but we'll have a nice bit of a patch for next year. 

It's the time of year where we're cleaning up for "the last time" with the leaves, with the garden, and packing away anything that would have been outside - hummingbird feeders, yard ornaments such as the gazing balls and the hand tools I generally leave on the porch for ease of grabbing when I feel like fiddling in the garden. 

When the milkweed is done blowing, we'll take down the stakes for the winter. We'll figure out what we're doing for Christmas decorations over this weekend. We like to get them up now, while the weather is half-way decent. We're not the type to light them up early - like some in our neighborhood who put them up right after Halloween. And light them right after Halloween. No, thanks!

This holiday - the day to give thanks - thank you! Yes, YOU. Thank you for reading the stuff I send into "inter-space." I love to hear from you, so don't be shy about commenting! Thank Whoever you thank and give a thought to those who aren't able to be with loved ones this year. 

End of an Era...

You know it's bad when someone says, "So-and-So is discontinuing treatment." Or "So-and-So has entered hospice care." You think, "Oh, it'll be a while."

But not. Both Aretha Franklin and John McCain died swiftly after their respective representatives issued statements saying that there was a dramatic change in their circumstances. 

John McCain's camp actually said he was ending treatment for brain cancer yesterday. He died today, around 4:28 p.m. 

And I totally get it. Who wants to be dogged as you're in the process of dying. Both Franklin and McCain died of cancer: Franklin's was pancreatic. You just had to take a look at her in her last performance (linked here) to see she was a shell of herself. While she had total command of the stage, her voice was clearly not where it was. This was 9 months before she died. The average survival rate for pancreatic cancer is -- just about 9 months. I know. My dad died of pancreatic cancer. 

McCain, who died earlier this afternoon, was a figure who was almost unilaterally respected. If you didn't agree with him, you had to admit that his arguments were almost always classy. He never resorted to petty name-calling, mocking, or other things we routinely see from the White House lately. I rarely agreed with him, and it's not like we had coffee every week, but I understood for the most part where he was coming from. I wished he wasn't so wishy-washy on some things, and wished he'd have decided otherwise on other things. 

But you had to admit that, for the most part, he had principles and was mostly the "maverick" he made himself out to be. 

The Governor of Arizona needs to appoint someone - who will serve till 2020. And who, apparently, has to be a Republican. It's going to be interesting. 

Great Prison Break-In...

Tonight was the Great Prison Break-In...the first fundraiser for the work we've been doing at the old Joliet prison. The crowds were polite and steady. Kid #2 and I were there, but we didn't stay long; he's got an hour drive home, and we were able to see what we wanted to see and take some photos. 

Folks were settling on the grounds with their folding chairs, and in the various tents placed around. The first band was rocking when we were there - there were 4 bands scheduled, including - of course, the Blooze Brothers...

If you aren't aware, the Old Joliet Prison was a pivotal location for "The Blues Brothers" movie. I have a picture of Joliet Jake's cell and we entered through the sallyport that Jake took when he left on his Mission from God. 

The Prison Kitties  (Jake and Elwood - Ellie for short, since she's a girl) were on display with a big bucket for donations for their care. They were feral kittens found by volunteers. These little stinkers managed to make their way (or mom brought them, most likely) to the front of the prison, where Mamma Kitty lives in the far back, under a ramp. They almost died. 

I believe they're being rehabbed and will be up for adoption soon. They're darling little beasties, and Kid # 2 said, "The trouble with kittens is that they turn into cats." They're going to be terrors. Hopefully, they get a home together. 

SAC building

We were only allowed in 2 buildings: SAC (Solitary Confinement) and into one penned area where we got a glimpse of the cells. Of course, as a volunteer, I was all over the place when we worked, but tonight, it was all blocked off and locked up. Which it should have been. There's stuff in there that'll hurt you or kill you; the public doesn't need to be there yet. 

So the "tour" through SAC was literally walking in the front door, peering into the cells that were open (many were locked shut) and walking out. You got to see the ancient cell they had, and there were lovely display boards all over the place. 

Kid #2 wants to volunteer for the continued clean-up and I spoke to one of the organizers. They're taking a few weeks off - as they should because this was an INCREDIBLE amount of work (you may have seen some of the pics I posted before), and Lord knows these folks need to relax a little!

It's going to be an amazing place. 

Knitting...

So I started a prayer shawl. I had the yarn, and I needed a break from socks for a bit. I have to say that I'm surprised. This is on huge needles, and I really can't knit with them for a long time, because they're stressful on the hands. 

But it's working up nicely. This is Lion Brand Hometown USA yarn - a super-bulky weight in Washington Denim. It's kind of periwinkle. I love how the K1 Y/O on the ends makes a "rope" with this size of yarn. It's a great texture. 

It's acrylic, which is fine. You want easy care in a prayer shawl, so that the person getting it doesn't have to futz with it. 

I'm hoping to get it done in the next few days, actually. It's zipping along, all things considered. I'll put in a big pile of knitting tomorrow, and see how it goes. 

The pattern is a Simple Triangle - it's a Lion pattern. The original pattern is for smaller needles, but I figured what the heck... I have 4 balls of this yarn; and it has to get to 36" from the cast on. So it's super simple:

Cast on 3 stitches. Knit 1 row, then Row 2 is K1, YO, knit to end. By adding those YOs you get a lovely "lace" bit on the edges. You just keep knitting, repeating Row 2. With this bulky yarn, the rows add up fast. You knit till it's about 35-ish inches from cast on and then bind off loosely. This yarn won't even need blocking! 

I really do have someone in mind for this; I'll get it blessed and we'll see about getting it delivered. I like this shape and I'm really liking the drape of this fabric. Of course, it helps that I'm doing it inside, with the AC on! It's still August, and tomorrow's supposed to be beastly, in time for the full moon. 

It's a great mindless knit while I watch the old Dr. Who series. I feel really bad for that "Traveler Scarf" that Tom Baker wears as his doctor's costume. The man is stomping on it half the time!! He's one of my favorite doctors, but jeeze - that scarf!! I'd love to do that one day, when I'm in the mood for TWELVE FEET of mindless garter stitch... It's not a great picture of him, but it's a fantastic picture of the scarf. 

I love the mythology of this garment. Apparently, the BBC plopped this big box of yarn in front of some woman, and told her "we need a scarf." She used ALL the yarn. This is now an iconic piece of Whovian lore. Imitations abound, and to really make it can cost a small fortune if you're looking for the exact yarns. It's on my Knitting Bucket List. That and Orenberg lace...

Not sure when I'll get to either of them, but I'm thinking that in the long run, 12 feet of garter is going to be more accessible than learning to read an Orenberg lace chart and then knitting it with smaller-than-spider-web yarn. 

In the Kitchen...

I'm addicted to the Starbucks Green Tea Latte. I mean seriously addicted. I get them unsweetened and I thought I was being very virtuous. I made them at home and of course noticed a taste difference. After some digging, I found that the "unsweetened" version had -- hang on to your hat -- about 14 grams of SUGAR in it. The matcha powder they use has sugar in it. Seriously. Unsweetened my rear leg. How in the world do people drink it SWEET??

After drinking some godawful combinations I worked on, I've finally figured out a home-based alternative. 

I take about 2 heaping teaspoons of pure matcha powder (not a "drink" powder, but pure matcha), put it in a jar, and add a little unsweetened almond or almond/coconut milk. Shake the living daylights out of it.... Add more almond milk till it's about 14-15 ounces and then shake again. If you need sugar, either put a tiny dab of honey in there (organic or pure - check the label) or a couple crystals of rock sugar in there. You don't need much. Shake the daylights out of it again to mix in your preferred sweetener and pour over ice. I think if I used sweetened almond milk, I wouldn't want to add any further sweet to it. Matcha is delicate as it is. You don't want to make it disappear. 

I still make the hot matcha with water and a drizzle of the almond milk. Since I'm off dairy, I want to keep the lovely energy of the matcha but I don't want the dairy or calories of half & half. 

The other night, I was looking for something to do with cauliflower rice. I found a Spanish Rice dish and I added to it (of course). Again, since I'm off dairy, there's no cheese in here (which would've been delicious!). I was a bit heavy-handed with the Penzey's Arizona Dreaming spice blend, so it's kinda hot. But I added sliced green olives and a couple drops of Young Living Essential Oils Lime Vitality oil. The Vitality oil line is specifically designed to ingest. 

The taste and scent of limes was so lovely! It actually cut the heat a tad. I'm going to make this again, but not so heavy on the hot. 

It's good with avocado slices or with guacamole. I would have used sour cream, but...dairy... 

I had it with chicken tonight. It's "plan-over" (not left-over) and I ate it yesterday with some salmon. 

I like finding new ways to use cauliflower rice. I don't rice it myself; I could. I have a lovely Vita-Mix and it would be simple to do it. But it's simpler to buy the bag. I may try it, but I'm honestly afraid I'm going to have "cream of cauliflower soup" by mistake... 

Random Picture...

Someone posted a pic on Pinterest which ended upon Facebook regarding using "vintage recipes" as kitchen decor. Duh... 

Got that one. I give you my father's potica recipe,which has been hanging in my kitchen for about 18 years. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to pry his rolling pin (solid oak with ball bearings) out of my mother's hands, despite me being the potica baker in the family... But I wouldn't hang that on the wall anyway. That gets its own drawer. Someday. 

This was his handwritten recipe. It's one page long. The actual recipe for potica is about 4 pages long. He lists ingredients, barely lists amounts, and says, "Bake at 350."

I'm sorry the picture is a bit keystoned. As you can see, the flash spot is below the actual picture. Otherwise, it was right in the middle. 

There's a story... My sister and I each got some handwritten recipes from my dad and we both had them framed. Hers was neater... Mine was folded up (this is looseleaf paper) and crusty. Dad wasn't a neat cook. 

The poor framer at Michael's actually looked at me as if I was crazy. She did a beautiful job and I love it. 

What would you do with a family favorite recipe? Any other ideas?

How Do You Die?

As we hear more over the next few days about how Justice Antonin Scalia died, it brings to my mind deaths in my own family. Most memorably, it brings back to me how my grandmother died.

Wedding Day

She always said that my grandpa “had it easy.” He walked into the house one February day, after supervising the snow shoveling, and put his hat and gloves on the table. He turned around, and fell straight to the ground – a fatal heart attack, dead before he hit the ground. Rather neat, if you think about it. No long hospitalization, no decaying of dignity, no endless prolongation of a life well-lived.

Apparently, that may indeed have been the issue with Justice Scalia. Go to bed one night and simply not wake up. How sweet is that, really? I mean, given the all-out efforts some people endure to live a life that is not filled with quality, but only an extension of pain and suffering – thanks, I’d take the fatal heart attack.

Grandma lived to age 95. It’s a habit of the women in our family: we don’t like to leave. After Grandpa died, she was very angry. God had messed this one up badly, she thought. They were married just over 60 years, not quite 61. She was supposed to go first, in her mind - though it's a good thing she didn't. And the longer she lived, the more wrong God had it. She was mad. She was furious. How DARE God NOT take her? And don’t give her that old sop about, “God’s not ready for you yet.” By Heaven, SHE was ready. So just open the blasted gates already and let her in! As she hit 90, all the filters were off - she even said, "I'm 90 and I want to die so I can say what I want." 

It took a lot of chutzpah for us to remind her that, 90 or not, she had to be nice to us. Many of us just stopped visiting - and I was one of them. Who really wants to hear, "God you've gotten fat" every single time you visit? Every. Single. Time. I tried to be patient - Lord knows I tried. But I couldn't, and that bothers me to this day. 

50th Anniversary (Married 60 years)

Right after this picture was taken, my grandfather had his first heart attack. Due to circumstances well beyond ANYONE'S control, he ended up having a touch of dementia after that. We suspect that there was a slight delay in the ability to revive him - he was always the sharpest knife in the box: a builder, a mechanic, an inventor, a maker. But after that heart attack, his light dimmed somewhat and he became a little slower; a little less talkative; a little less himself. 

Even though Grandma had plans for how their life was supposed  to work, it ended up being a blessing that she didn't die first. He died when she was in the hospital for a bout of digestive trouble. As it was, we had to remind him to eat, to take a bath, to get dressed. He never in his life had to cook or prepare a meal for himself. He didn't choose what he wore. He never had to do laundry. Grandma was the typical housewife - she manage the house and everyone in it. He would not have functioned had she not been there to oversee the remainder of his life. At 75, he died, and I think in a way, she never forgave him - or God - for that. 

She died in a nursing home, not in a suite in a palatial ranch (though the fees charged by nursing homes are palatial to many). She died with family surrounding her, and nuns praying the rosary in the hallway.

But it wasn’t a peaceful death. Her body, in the end, betrayed her. As her mind left, as her organs failed, her heart beat strongly on. There’s nothing you can do to quell a heart that refuses to stop. We can only guess at the unfinished business that might have been part of the plan of the Universe. She was always afraid that she would not die peacefully in her sleep. How much of that fear played into what really happened, we’ll never know.

The day before she died, I was there with my mom, my aunt, two cousins and my sister... We all were saying our goodbyes and my mom popped a CD in the player. I’m the family cantor – I started singing. My grandma visibly relaxed when she heard the hymn, “Here I am, Lord,” one of her favorites. After a while, she seemed uncomfortable, so my aunt and sister, both nurses, asked us all to leave. They turned her onto her side – facing the window. They opened the drapes, cracked the window up, and told her it was ok to go. We left her then, with her two daughters, as they wished. She died about 4 hours after that.

I remember this clearly. And as we read more about the Justice, I contrast the public scenario of his death (including all the attendant hysterical conspiracy theories and press intrusions) with the private deaths that take place every day. The deaths that aren’t in a luxury ranch. The deaths which are not simple. The deaths that happen among each and every family, each and every day.

Fame brings a peculiar sort of aura to a death. Fame brings a microscope. My granny wouldn’t have appreciated that microscope, especially since she was a prim and proper church lady who always had her lipstick on and her hair done. 

Her death was ugly, it took too long (which would have been her opinion, and I don't even want to imagine the conversation in Heaven!) and only prettied up for the obituary.

But in the final analysis, death comes to us all. Grandma railed and ranted about wanting death more quickly. I don’t know – is this a common thread? Does the 106 year old want what he or she may see as the ultimate comfort of death? Does the 80 year old think it’s time? Does anyone? Do we all fear the “last sleep” that is (it’s cliché to say) the great equalizer?

In the final-final analysis, though: does it matter at all? We all die. Every single one of us will face this, and we’ll face it in the sure and certain knowledge that we have no control over it. What we can control is what we do before we die. How we live. What we embrace. What we refute. What we say to those we love; what we say to those we encounter every day - the non-family folks who we either work with or deal with in our daily lives.

What we can control is all the attendant paperwork: having “the talk” with the family about what we wish for, how we want our death to be medically managed, having our living wills and durable powers of attorney in place. Making our doctors aware of DNR requests (do not resuscitate). Being brave enough to speak early and often to our loved ones about the safest bet: that we’ll all die in time. 

We won’t likely make the national and international news, but we’ll all die. All we can do is our best to make it a good death.

Lacrimosa -- Full of Tears...

This beautiful chunk of Mozart's Requiem is one of the most famous pieces of music. 

And it is just how our church family feels. Our beloved organist and friend, Tom Secor, died on Saturday about 9:30 p.m. after a long fight. He took a fall about 5 months back, and thing spiraled from there. He wasn't that old, either. He just had a compromised system, being on the list for a kidney transplant. An infection got in, settled in and took its toll. 

Mass on Sunday was a "mess." We have had a substitute organist for a while; after struggling with those of us who could barely find our way around a keyboard (for a group of musicians, we are remarkably untalented with keyboard instruments!), we got her to play regularly. She's a pianist, and every pianist worth their salt will tell you "I don't normally play the organ." They are two distinctly different instruments, and most pianists find the feel and the set-up a little overwhelming. Several organists I know are also pianists, but it doesn't translate backward. 

She was shaken up; our choir was shaken up. You could hear a pin drop when Fr. Matt announced Tom's death. It shook our church to its roots because so many people knew him for so long. That being said, we've only been members of the church for not quite 3 years. And I can't stop crying. 

This is what I see when I let my mind wander. When my friend (and another organist) Janet's son died, she commissioned a painting like this of her son being hugged by Jesus. Is it sappy? Likely. But if it gives you comfort, you go with it. 

The funeral will be next Sunday and we're expecting an over-packed house. We have some music and luckily, some "choir ringers" -- many people who are talented musicians want to "Sing Tom Home" and we're very happy with that. That being said, I'm conceding my status as an Alto. There are soprano parts I'd been able to sing easily, but lately, those high notes are beyond my grasp. I guess I need to just accept that and be happy that there will be more than 2 Alto singers for this funeral. 

I'm meeting with Fr. Matt about Christmas and I'm not sure what he has in mind. There are a few people in the choir who don't want "slappy-happy" music, and frankly, I'm not exactly sure what that means. I'm thinking it means anything dated 1970 and forward. And while I adore the old pieces, I have to say - there's gotta be room for something else as well. Tom was accepting of my guitar, but not to the extent I used to play in my other church. And that lack of playing has started to show. As well, the sound system at St. John's isn't conducive to a guitar...hauling an amp is a pain in the sit-bones, but it may be what we do for a while. We shall see what he's got up his sleeve. 

St. Julian of Norwich...

This keeps going through my mind as we as a congregation reel from this loss. And as I deal with a lot of personal junk going on. Losing my job in December (it looks like nobody's listening to our claims that they're going to need us at the new location) is hitting me hard. I'm not sure what I want to do. I've signed up for some job search places online and I'm working with a freelance writing group. Maybe it's a sign that I have indeed been spoiled. I mentioned to Hubby last night that this job I've had for the past 8 years? It's spoiled me. Yes, I have a lot of skills, but after all this time, to an employer, my skills are "old." To ME, they're old. I did marketing and PR in the world before SEO and social media marketing. 

Yeah, I know blogs, FaceBook, Twitter, etc. But that doesn't mean I know enough to attract an employer, when there are a car-load of new graduates well-versed in these things. I don't know what the future holds, and it is bothering me. 

But I look to Julian and I hope that the appropriate solution will present itself to me. I'm not saying I'm waiting for someone to hand me something. I'm saying that I'm trying not to clutch my pearls and panic... I'm 56 years old, and jobs don't grow on trees for folks like me. I'm essentially over-qualified for a lot of things, yet under-qualified almost in the same breath. But I need to do what I've done before: consider things that are a little off the beaten path. You'd think I could get through this relatively easily, but you'd be wrong. 

Things hit us differently each time they happen. This is certainly not my first time at a lay-off. It's actually Number Five. It doesn't make it any easier. Familiarity in this case does not breed acceptance. 

Tuesday...

If I hear one more "gloom and doom" poll telling us that the Democrats have lost the election BEFORE it's even Election Day... I may scream. 

I'm secretly wondering if this really IS Venezuela, where they announced, several elections running, that Chavez had won by "unanimous" consent -- two days before everyone voted. 

Really. Let's get some perspective. It's not going to be an ice cream social. Nobody ever said that. But I'm really beginning to believe that people are waking up and smelling the coffee. 

Frankly, I can't see why any WOMAN would vote Republican. Let's face history. It hurts, but it's necessary. Republicans shut down the government last year. They have vowed to (yet again) REPEAL the Affordable Care Act. What? We don't have anything else pressing in this country? 

They deny the climate change staring them in the face. They are at the whim and behest of corporations - even all the way to SCOTUS (and why do Supreme Court Justices have contributions given to them by rich people???). They want women back in the kitchen, thank you very much. 

They penalize the poor, at the same time as they decimate what's left of the middle class. Mostly because the politicians themselves have already been taken care of by their own corporate overlords. 

Can we individually fight Citizens United - arguably the absolute worst decision to come out of the so-called unbiased Supreme Court in ages? No, we can't. But we can't afford to sit on our rear ends tomorrow because we're discouraged. 

Look at the graphic, you women especially. Our foremothers fought. They were beaten, arrested and humiliated. But they persevered. And we got the vote. 

Two countries don't allow women to vote: Saudi Arabia (and that's changing in 2015, finally) and Vatican City (yes, Vatican City is a country). 

Technically, women have had the right to vote well before the Amendment. In 1869, Wyoming actually allowed women to vote. The 19th Amendment wasn't ratified till 1920.

We could watch our civil liberties being sucked into the vortex that is Christian fundamentalism at its worst -- because that's what they want. They want us to be depressed and discouraged. They want us to throw our hands up and say, "Well, my vote doesn't count." 

It does. It truly still does. In spite of gerrymandering. In spite of commercials to the contrary. In spite of anything any local news reporter or newspaper says. 

Your vote is important. And it's important that you exercise that right. Tomorrow. If you've already voted early, then see if someone needs a ride to the polls. Don't be a bystander to your own destiny. Get into that voting booth and vote. 

And don't be a chicken about reporting irregularities. I've seen some reports where some voting machines are tallying (D) votes as (R) votes... Yep, hacked in and tampered with. Look at your ballot and watch, if you have electronic machines, what it says. Your future depends upon what you do in that voting booth. 

Einstein said something that should put all of this in perspective: The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing. 

Don't let someone else vote for you...because THEY show up and YOU decided not to. 

Knitting...

Well, I couldn't stand it. Let me backtrack. I sent the clothing out to the new baby, who should be here tomorrow, if he's on time... But I put an IOU in the card for the blanket. And I took this out because I needed a large break from baby knitting. 

Yep, the St. Charles Sock and also my music. Which, by the way, I totally screwed up on Sunday. Mind you, I could sing this in my sleep. But as I said, Mass Was A Mess, and I totally blew the song right off the page. In a bad way... 

Anyhow, the sock has now got its heel turned, and I'm in the process of doing the gusset decrease. I've got probably 10 rows before I get to the foot. I'll intersperse this with the blanket and get both of them done soon, I hope. 

I want the blanket out of my house by Christmas, though I may have to have Fr. Matt do a blessing on it, because I haven't had exactly sweet thoughts as I've been working on it!! 

Christmas Creep...

So as I go to buy a baby card on HALLOWEEN, I round the corner of my local CVS and this is what I see. 

Yes, I jumped. My friend Deb called it "The Attack of the Zombie Santas." Really. Halloween candy was still at the front of the store, but this was in the card aisle. 

And I'm already sick of holiday commercials. 

I wish to register a new phrase. It's not Christmas Creep. It's Christmas Chaos or Christmas Conquering. 

Because it's conquered all the way up to the week BEFORE Halloween, especially in Target, where the ghosty background was still up whilst they put up Santa, snowmen and reindeer. 

I really would like to see a pilgrim and a turkey. Just one. Sometime after Halloween and before Thanksgiving. 

Just one. There's gotta be one somewhere. Besides the flag that I have in my garden, I mean. 

I'll have to break down and buy one of those illuminated turkeys, just in protest. 

Sad News...

Well, Arlo went to Canary Heaven this week. He was fine in the morning, but when it was time to put him to bed, we saw he was dead in the bottom of his cage. 

Canaries usually live 10 years. He lived to 13 years, so in the last 2 or 3 years, he didn't do much singing. Arlo was a Roller Canary. That meant that when he sang, it could last 5 - 10 minutes. Seriously loud, too. Often, phone conversations ceased when Arlo started singing. Here's a YouTube of a Roller. I think we may have a file somewhere, but I can't lay my hands on it. 

He was a beautiful bird, called "blue" but actually white with grey-blue accents. Again - I do have a picture but not handy. 

Random Picture...

And to end this very sad blog on a high note, it's the always-crazy Raisa. Yes. Under my knitting chair. 

Why? Because she can. 

She's a rare breed: The Siberian Husk-Cat. Able to leap nearly 6' from a standing position. Able to cram herself into the smallest of places. Eater of anything not nailed down. Howler extraordinaire. 

And at this point, just the comic relief I need. 

Tea, Death, Knitting, Weddings...

Yeah, I know. What???

It's just kind of the order in which I think things will go in today's entry.

Tea...

So on a normal day, I usually drink about 4 cups of tea. Two are "real" and the others are decaf or herbal.

Today, I'm going with one extra "leaded" cup, but I'm using a tea that Hubby brought home from a recent trip to MT.  Apparently, Montana having more elk than people, he actually KNOWS the gal who has the shop that creates this tea. He also bought some coffee from her. 

Tea

Normally, I like my green tea "straight" - maybe iced, but usually just hot is fine. However, I'm craving sweets today, and this tea has hit the spot.

It's loose leaf, and I did a double brewing. So the first cup actually was full-caf, and the second was way less. 

This is truly a "dessert" kinda tea. I mean, it tastes like an Almond Joy bar, minus the chocolate. I'm enjoying it. I don't think I'd do this iced - too cloying. But hot is nice.

Especially since today is grey and damp; nothing iced today. Except my salad this noon.

Speaking of salad, NOTE TO SELF: When you go to dismember an avocado, don't use the cheap-o knife!! I went to the grocery store a while back and needed a sharper knife than the one I had. And I should've just spent the extra few bucks. 

I have a sliced thumb, but it's nothing serious. Annoying, yes. Stupid, yep. But really - I'll live. 

Good knives save lives!!

Death...

I subscribe to The Sun magazine. It's lovely, a compilation of essays, articles, poetry and photographs. Kind of an expanded Atlantic without the snootiness. 

Katy Butler was interviewed, and she's got a new book out: "Knocking on Heaven's Door: The Path to a Better Way of Death." It's not at all morbid. It's about "That Conversation" that everyone should have. In several versions, actually -- because it truly does matter where you are on the age spectrum, and illness spectrum.

My family is pretty much "shoot me now" -- we don't want a lot of intervention. I've seen death, and I remember the line in the Irene Dunn movie, "I Remember Mamma" where she tells Kristina, "I want you should look on death so you are not afraid."

Well, I'm not jazzed. Slightly scared, but hey - by this time in my life, I've lost a parent, 2 friends, more than several acquaintances, all the grandparents, the great-grandparents, my father-in-law, and a sibling. That doesn't count a rash of great-aunts and a few cousins. Believe me, wakes were social events when I was a kid. I was lucky enough to have great-grandparents till I was in my teens, as did our boys. 

That doesn't mean I'm happy with my own mortality. Frankly, many days, it scares the crap out of me. 

But we've all had "The Conversation." My own kids have even had their own versions of that talk with us. 

Butler's book and interview in the magazine center around our country's cultural aversion to death and she specifically talks about her father's death, then her mothers, which was vastly different, mostly due to what happened with her dad.

It's a romantic, Hollywood idea to have a "peaceful death at home." It's not like it is in the movies. It's scary, overwhelming and sometimes harsh. 

But it's worse if you don't have The Conversation with your family. My sister, a former ICU nurse, has seen that side of it. She's encouraged all of us to talk about it, because she's seen the way most families are confronted by death, and it's not good. 

Yes, I have my funeral planned. Don't have a plot yet, but it's likely I'll go with cremation anyway and have the kids scatter my ashes. They're boys - they're not gonna want to haul around an urn. And I'm claustrophobic - don't necessarily want to be stuck in a cranny on a wall... (work with me here...). Though the columbarium of our church is a nice alternative. Either way, none of us is much on "grave visiting" so it won't matter whether I'm in a church or scattered along the banks of Lake MacDonald in Glacier National Park. Nobody's gonna leave flowers somewhere for me. 

Plant a tree. Have a party. I'll appreciate it more. 

Knitting...

Pottery

I'm not sure if I posted a decent picture. Yarn bowls are all the rage. Many are truly works of art and they're just lovely, handy items. When my mom's friends moved, they had a bowl I coveted. It's this one. It's hand-thrown and glazed. My mom's friend said she used it for watermelon in the summer. 

All I could think of was "yarn bowl!!" Kid #2 had made me one, but it was quite small - it's still handy enough, but this one holds a bit more. Normally, it's tucked under this table, because the canary is still alive and kicking, if not necessarily tweeting much. 

He does tweet, but only under duress. Anyway, once he goes, this table will go away, too. This window is where our Christmas tree usually sits; we've had it on the dining room table forever because (a) there's no room; and (b) then we had puppies... 

Anyway, back to the bowl. I did put "footies" under the bottom rim, so as to not scratch anything. But otherwise, I'm enjoying using this in an unusual way. It's a thing I look at every day and it's fulfilling its purpose as a vessel. Just holding yarn, not food!

Speaking of Food...

I saw this on Facebook. It's a really cute idea. I'm a total cookie-baker and so is Kid #2. This is a diagram on folding a plate to make a container. 


I do have lovely "holiday box" thingies to put cookies in, but they're all red/green and candy striped. This is something nifty for a birthday or other occasion. 

If one was really creative, one could make them for centerpieces on the holiday table or as a shower theme. 

Come to think of it, this might make a good way to take home cake when we're at a birthday party, instead of trying to balance the slices on an open-faced plate, covered with foil or plastic wrap that only clings to itself.

May have to try that the next time we have a birthday. 

But it won't work for pie, I think. And it'll only hold 2 regular-sized cupcakes, and perhaps 4 - 6 small ones.

However - it looks like it'll hold about 6 decent-sized fudge brownies.

Ok. I need to stop now...

Weddings...

So in last Sunday's Chicago Trib was the story of a "Wedding That Won't Be." Sadly, this couple, Ann and Holly Cook-Graver, asked their pastor if they could be married, since we can now do that in Illinois. The wedding was set for June 28, 2014 at Faith United Methodist Church in Orland Park, IL... 

Everything was on track until late April, when the pastor emailed Ann. Nothing good can come of an email with the subject line: "It's about your wedding in June."

Apparently, they can't be married at Faith United Methodist Church. While they've been members of the congregation for quite some time, and while the pastor initially said yes, and the church's wedding planner walked them through the whole thing... it's all for naught.

Because the pastor had talked with "several key members" of the church's leadership and realized that the United Methodist clergy are prohibited from presiding at same-sex civil unions or marriages. 

In reality, while Illinois has passed Senate Bill 10, legalizing same-sex marriage, the fact is that many denominations still won't honor this. And I don't mind that part so much.

I appreciate the separation of church and state. 

I just think it's rotten that the pastor said he would, and then said he wouldn't. I don't think that the Methodists' Book of Discipline changed in that time. 

Think about the recent story in the news about a Methodist pastor who was told that he basically had to denounce his own son because the son is gay and wants to marry his partner. The father, I believe, said, "I can't do this to my kid" and he's left the church. So yes, religion is fine, but how "fine" is it when the intolerance starts to tear families apart?

Ann and Holly, the Episcopal Church welcomes you. I'll even bake the cake. 

Random Picture... 

This is a shot of Raisa and Tippi. Tippi's face had just been washed by Raisa. They're getting along fine, and we are just about at the end of Raisa's heat. Thank goodness!!

My intent is to "finish" Raisa  - at least get her to Advanced Obedience this summer. We have a lot to catch up on with "Intermediate" and we still have her spay to go yet. Eventually, we get her to CGC and TDI. 

How long will "puppy brain" last??? 

An Epiphany...

We interrupt the travel blog to bring you The Epiphany.

No, not the one that occurs after Christmas. This one was the one I had at 3 a.m. or so this morning.

Yesterday, we did the clear-out and clean-up of my deceased brother's house prior to getting it sold, since he died intestate (without a Will) and the house needs to be sold so that proceeds (if any) can be distributed to heirs. I say "if any" because, like 99.9% of 49-year-olds, there is some debt. But that's not the epiphany.

Yesterday was wearing, both because it was hotter than heck, and because you work like crazy to clean out; you find out more than you'd like about a person. You see things you wish you could un-see. You note the pathetic brevity of a human life, made even more so by the fact that he died just shy of his 50th year -- in the year 2013 -- of a heart attack. 

You realize that, in the case of a sudden death, someone (or in this case, several of us) descends upon your home, decides what's trash and what's either treasure or can be sold - and the great majority of everything we own, quite frankly, is trash. 

My mom was stunned at the trash in the back alley. All she said was "Oh my God." Yeah, that's a life that someone lived, reduced to trash that will be hauled away. We loaded up 4 vehicles with stuff that we had to go through; the few things that could be sold; stuff that needed to be returned (work uniforms, etc.); stuff that needs to be handed over to the kids... all that. 

And as I look around my office here, I wonder. What will happen to all of this? This is "stuff I really need" - at least I think so. But the kids? Not so much, probably. Who will go through my books? What will happen to the guitars (though I already know the answer to that one)? And what about my yarn stash? The CDs? We have boys; nobody's going to be clamoring for my evening bags or fighting over my craft stuff. 

Anyway, I wasn't sleeping this morning. Again. And I was pondering, because I met one of Bro #2's friends yesterday. A very soft-spoken guy, and I had to wonder. Bro #2 and I didn't get along; let's just get that out of the way. It was difficult to hold a civil conversation for more than a few minutes. 

But at his wake and funeral, the 3 remaining siblings heard about his "kindness," his "empathy," his "dedication to his job," and "how much we all enjoyed being around him." 

Really? Who is that guy and why didn't HE ever show up at family events? Why did WE get the loudmouth, bigoted, ignorant jerk who once said to Kid #1, "That long hair makes you look like a hippy fag - I'll cut it off for you" as he grabs him by the ponytail. For what it's worth, Kid #1 had (and still has) gorgeous hair, even when it was down to his shoulders. And for the record, when it got slightly below his shoulders, he cut it off and donated it to Locks of Love. So there.

And for what it's worth, I told him that if he ever laid a hand on my kid again, he'd draw back a nub. Kid #1 told me later, "It's ok, Mom. That just him." 

Anyway, who was that guy? Why did we not know him? We saw evidence that, in spite of him being somewhat of a ne'er-do-well, he was trying to get his life together. Maybe the Big 5-0 was staring him in the face and perhaps he felt some urgency. Bro #1 told me the other day, "You know, if maybe we'd had another 5 years, we would have FOUND that guy everyone was complimenting. But our brother died before WE could find that guy."

Was that guy always there, but we didn't notice? Well, that guy may have been there, but we didn't get a chance to see him. It was all bluster and bravado, and his oldest kid was (and is) the same way. Everything was always a contest. Always one-up, always bigger, badder, nastier.

And then, at 3 a.m. or so it hit me. 

College. 

Rather, the LACK of college. Between me, Sis, and Bro #1, we have EIGHT college degrees. Out of all the grandsons, 3 of them have at least a Bachelor's degree. Between us - the siblings - there's a nurse, an engineer, and a double Master's Degree manager. For what it's worth, I win the tally on "the most diplomas." But either way.

It was college. Bro #2 barely made it out of high school. For a while, he was a cop. That's a totally honorable profession, of course, but due to circumstances lost in the mist of memory or just Not Talked About, he left his police job after about a decade. 

But the rest of us went to college (as adult students paying our own way, but nevertheless - we went). I think that perhaps the bravado and bluster were coping mechanisms because he felt that he wasn't "up to our standards." The pecking order is, pretty much, that I'm the smartest one, Bro #1 is next, Sis is a very close #3 -- and then there's Bro #2, a/k/a "The Baby."  At least that's how it's perceived. 

Frankly, Bro #1 and I think that Sis beats us...She's a nurse, and really, for all the "smarts" I have, I barely made it out of high school Chemistry alive. I think it's totally awesome that she can save (and has saved) lives. I also think it's amazing that Bro #1 builds experimental airplanes. Me? I can write and I have a really good memory for stuff that nobody else either sees or chooses to store in their brain; I'm also pretty good at leading people and having disparate groups of people play well together. There are the usual things that can't be quantified that I do that nobody else in my family does, but as far as straight-up academics, THAT is one thing I can do really, really well.

And I believe that Bro #2 was distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe he felt like nobody valued what he did. Maybe he felt like he was dumped on as a child. Maybe he felt like all of us were successful and he wasn't, nor was he likely to be. Maybe - just maybe - he felt like he had to be a jerk to get any attention, because we truly can be a loud and obnoxious bunch when we get together. As the youngest in the family, might it have been that he felt that in order to gain ANY attention, he had to be a snot? 

I don't know. I will never know. But I think I'm on to something.

I still have a lot more work to be done; there's a whole big recycle tote with paperwork in it. I have to go to the bank tomorrow to set up the estate account. I have a few things that I have to document and file away. Stuff needs to be cataloged on the balance sheet I'm doing. I have to check with a Realtor to get the house up for sale. I have to chase down a bank account (evidence of which we found yesterday). Mail is transferred to my house. I had to put the utilities for the house in my name. We're missing a garage door opener and a car title. 

It's a mess. 

But within that, I have to say this gives me a good impression, if I didn't already have one, of the brevity of life -- and what happens when you leave it unexpectedly and someone else has to clean up the mess. 

I'm not saying that there's a "perfect" departure. Even the most organized among us will leave some little mess when we go. There will always be clean-up. But this? This is a really large undertaking and I am feeling the pressure to "fix" what I really can't fix. It is what it is, and honestly? It ain't pretty. 

But I'm going to do the best I can. Because that's how it's done. I know we didn't get along. And I'm not sure that extra 5 years that Bro #1 wanted would ever have begun to chip away at over 40 years of idiocy. But I will do this so that his kids get whatever little bit they can, and I can at least leave his final affairs tidied up as best I can do. That's all I can do for him now. That's all that's left.