...supposedly you rest. Not so much. The good news is that the guitar strings are mostly settling in - a lot quicker than I thought. Tomorrow, it'll be another "let's play as much as we can" kind of day and we'll make sure all is well for Tuesday night. My hands are a bit sore. I've over-baked, over-knitted and over-played.
Today, though, the other alto at church had a problem; she almost fainted in the choir room. Luckily, one of our sopranos is a doctor, and she was able to help. She also told me how to help her in case it happens in church. I kind of knew, but I also knew this gal had some other issues. I was a little concerned that she would hit the floor.
So I was the only alto. And we sang a 4-part song. Urgh. I was hoarse. I have the Proclamation to do for Tuesday night, which should be fine. The gal was very upset, which she shouldn't have been. Stuff happens. I just hope she's ok for Christmas. But I've been the only alto before.
Not bad for a soprano...
Oh, and the amp worked. So it was either the battery or the cable. Or both. And since the guitar has a new battery in there and I'm using the cable the boys bought me last Christmas, I'm not sure which it is. And I don't care. As long as it works. We have to be at the church at 10 p.m. for an 11 p.m. service. Plus the reception afterwards. Not sure how long I'll be staying.
Came home; drank lots and lots of tea and tried to keep my mouth shut. That didn't work as well as I would have liked...but more on that later.
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| Creamy Potato Soup |
Kid #2 couldn't stand it: he had to bake ONE MORE BATCH of cookies. A modified version of my M&M cookies. Not the big monsters we made earlier. These are more traditional, flatter and more crunchy. We now have Cookie-palooza. And we're done.
Got the neighbor's box of breads to him: pineapple/banana; carrot/poppy seed; chocolate/banana.
The choir got their cookies. I sold a potica. I put together the tray for my eye doctor. Whew. All I have left is to make a small plate each for 2 of my girlfriends, a tray for my mom's house and a plate for the open house. Kid #2 has his that he wants to give, and then we're finished. Done. Amen.
I've done soup two nights in a row. Also pulled chicken BBQ style. Tonight's soup was creamy potato with bacon. Recipe follows here. Yesterday I did Ham & Barley. It's been soup-kind-of-days. We went from "slop to snow" this morning, but only enough snow to make a nice mushy ice. I just want a white Christmas, preferably enough to snow us in.
CREAMY POTATO SOUP (serves 6 - 8)
5 Yukon gold potatoes, peeled 5 c. water
1/2 c. leeks, diced
Fresh ground pepper 5 strips bacon, crumbly
1/2 c. sliced carrots 4 Knorr vegetarian cubes
1/2 c. half & half
1 t. each: dried marjoram; sage**
Shredded cheddar cheese (optional)
Cut the potatoes into roughly the same-sized chunks. Put the peeled potatoes in the water, with the veggie cubes, in large pan. Set to boil. Cook bacon till crumbly and set aside, reserving bacon grease in the pan. When the potatoes are not quite fork-tender, add the carrots and keep cooking. Add the leeks to the bacon grease in the pan and cook till translucent, not browned. Drain and set aside.
Add spices to the potatoes, and then add the leeks. Whiz this with a stick blender or in your traditional blender (watch - it's hot and blenders get pressure built up with hot liquids!). Make it as smooth or chunky as you'd like. Add the half & half and stir it together.
Crumble the bacon. Toss it in the pan. Serve in bowls or mugs with a sprinkle of cheddar cheese.
**Play with the spices. You can do herbs de Provence or Old Bay Seasoning, or whatever you'd like.
---You can substitute onions or shallots for the leeks.
---This freezes well, but don't freeze with the cheese.
So that's what we had for supper, and you could also have added some cornbread or pretzel rolls. I didn't add salt because I thought the bacon would be enough. I did, however, add a couple of drops of hot sauce.
Leftovers for tomorrow night. I'm teaching yoga, so I'm not eating much before then anyway.
Knitting...
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| Looking sweater-ish |
It's beginning to look a lot like a sweater... I am almost sure that I'll only get 2 buttons on the yoke. Which is fine. I could lengthen it, but remember, when you go over the bust with a button? Not usually a good look, especially if you have a bust.
I'm already on the second ball, so I'm kind of glad I've got 19 of them.
For Christmas Eve, I'm bringing the Before and After Scarf to work on. I need to just meditate to get through this (more on that later) and I think knitting is a good thing for me to do. It'll keep me from over-eating and hopefully help me keep my mouth shut.
That could be a good thing...
The Bears...
Are losing. My mother is happy, because somehow, she's a Packers fan. If they lose, it's not the end of the world. They can clinch the playoffs if they win. If they don't, then the game against the Packers will likely decide.
I'm not really a football fan. And I live in a town where high school football is the be-all and end-all of weekends. Even after -- long after -- people have graduated, the stands are packed with alumni who are still enthralled.
Not me, so much. My mom has loved football since high school, but I didn't get that gene.
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| Quinn |
As you can see, Quinn isn't happy about the Bears either. Or perhaps she's not happy that I'm pointing my phone at her. You decide.
Tippi's hiding out in the back of the house.
They're jealous of their other elkhound friends who live in real "snow country." We will not see that kind of snow, unfortunately.
Family Drama...
Ayyyyyyyyyy. As you all remember, my youngest brother died this summer. And as you all remember, the drama was off the charts.
It still is. It abated a bit. I'm almost done with the estate; we're just waiting on the time to file the Federal and State taxes. I have to get a list of claimants and see how the IRS lien is coming out. The attorney is trying to get it waived. I'm just hoping that I get my money back and the funeral bill gets paid.
So his kid has a "baby-mama." Though his maternal grandparents don't believe it's really HIS kid. He's also been told by his mother that, when he reaches age 25, he will magically be "cured" of his schizophrenia and bipolar disease.
Which is crap, because anyone with brain cells and the ability to research will tell you that it gets WORSE at age 25, unless you've been diligent at managing it. And even then, it'll still get worse.
And he hasn't been managing it.
So, my mother usually has Christmas Eve. This will be just as bad as Thanksgiving, though we got through that with a minimum of drama. The kid called my mom and asked if he could come for Christmas Eve. She said yes, as long as he behaved, and told him up front that if he wasn't on his meds, or he tried to start something, he'd be out on his butt on the sidewalk before he realized it.
Well, he texted my brother D and told him that he was bringing baby-mama and the holy child... My brother called me. I called my sister. She told my mom - which I was going to do if nobody else wanted to. You would have to tell someone something like that. You can't just show up.
My sister, the soft-hearted one, said, "Well, maybe he's thinking that it'll make grandma happy if there's another baby around." She also said that if he had them there, he'd be so involved with them that we wouldn't have to entertain him.
I told her she was nuts. He is the center of his universe and we should all revolve around him. He'd be shoving the baby and the girl in our faces and demanding that we just all go along as if we're the Waltons (the TV ones, not the WalMart ones). We've been walking on eggshells with this kid and frankly, I'm done.
My mother hit the ceiling. I mean, had a hissy fit of fairly monumental proportions. She called him and told him absolutely, positively, "they are not invited." Perhaps that sounds cold, but honestly, for once, she and I agreed. He wants to be a "big man" and he wants to shove his things into our faces and force us to accept him and whatever, or whoever, he brings along.
Sorry, but someone has to pull his chain a bit. My mother told him that they are not invited for a couple of reasons. She doesn't like that he lied about it when he didn't tell her from the get-go. Also, his half-sister...my mom said that it would set a bad example for her. She's (my mom, I mean) old-fashioned in that regard. And she also knows that what I've said all along is more right than she thought at first. The kid wants to manipulate us. Kid #2 called him a "psychic vampire" and my mom's therapist also told her, "You really need to cut him out of your life, because he will use you and suck you dry emotionally."
She was willing to give him another chance, but like me - she's not tolerant of liars and manipulators.
So I'm not sure if this kid will show up without his girlfriend. And if he doesn't, I'm just fine with that. My mother is scared of him anyway, and frankly, that's not fair for her. He knows where she lives, he's got a record of domestic violence and a history of not staying on his meds. She doesn't need that. Even if she's wanting to try to be a grandma to this kid, who is my deceased brother's son...she told me today that she just can't do it anymore. She's drained.
And it's not fair to the rest of the family. Honestly, if I was my nephew & wife, I'd be telling grandma that "we think it's easier if we stay home" because they've got the 3 small kids. Who wants their kids exposed to someone's melt-down, especially when, as usually happens, he melts down with a weapon or his fists. I'm kind of tired of having holidays with my stomach in my throat waiting to see what this kid is going to pull, and what the damage will be. So far, honestly, he only challenged Kid #2, which was a stupid thing to do. Kid #2 is a teacher; he won't engage.
Lord knows it'll only get worse from here. I try to not "discard" any human being. But I'm not raising someone else's kid because his own mother is "tired of his shenanigans." Well -- that would still be YOUR problem, not ours. She kept him from our family (not that that would've made any difference, in view of his mental issues) for YEARS because we "were not stable."
Ha. That's all I have to say. Just. Ha.
Christmas Eve Menu...
Will be finger-food. We had done the big dinner for years. A few years ago, we did a "munchies" thing and it went over quite nicely. My brother has to go to his in-laws. My sister isn't going anywhere, but her husband is spending the evening with his daughter (it's a tradition). I'm going to Midnight Mass.
It's easier to do a "munchie" meal because we can also manage our eating, I hope! So we'll have cocktail meatballs, salsa & chips, veggie tray & dip, artichoke dip, mini ham sandwiches, spanakopita, and a layered taco salad. I'm bringing a cookie tray.
We'll have our annual "Wrapping Paper Wars" which is a tradition started by my SIL. You unwrap your present and then ball up your wrapping paper, and toss it at someone. Well, PELT someone. Extra points if it bounces off someone and hits someone else.
The great-grandson will be helping pass out the presents. I'm going to try to videotape some of the pelting, just so we have it on record. Hey, it'll make it into next year's Christmas website, right?
A friend of mine is having a cool open house the weekend after Christmas. She's calling it "The Christmas Leftover Open House." I'll bring cookies...
Random Picture...
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| Granny's Pans |
These are the long potica pans I have from my granny. They're fairly lightweight and they've got a great patina on them. They make gorgeous potica. There's one that's just a tad ratty (it's at the bottom of the stack), so my mission after the holidays is to not only find a 100% cotton damask cloth (and they apparently cost an arm and a leg - I started searching), but also to find at least two more of this sized pan. I have 5 of them, and with the slightly ratty one on its way out of use, I'd actually like to have 6 of them.
One batch of our recipe makes 3. So this would enable me to do a double batch, plus, as Kid #2 says, "Have some cut ends" - which is my favorite part: you cut off the ends and place them in a separate pan to make little "sweet roll" bites.
Kid #2 gave Kid #1 a bit of a razzing because when Kid #1 cut the potica, he "cut to fit" instead of "cut to squish." I'm not talking a BIG squish; just you cut them a tad larger so that you can tuck the ends in.
It's all technique.
They'll learn.
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.
This is the stuff of "Movie-of-the-Week" material. For those of you who have never known the joy of an external antenna and only 4 channels (that would be pre-cable days), the Movie of the Week was a big deal.
And that's kind of where my family is at right now. Movie-of-the-Week material. I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it, and I'm feeling as if I'm in the midst of an experiment in Chaos Theory.
There have always been 4 of us siblings. But now there's only 3.
This past Saturday, I had to break the news to my mother that her youngest child was dead. My youngest brother died 3 days prior to that (approximately) of a heart attack in his home. He was 49 - would've been 50 this weekend.
I don't want to get into gory details and air all the family laundry. But you do need some history. In every family, there's the odd duck, and that was my baby brother.
Frankly, he and I didn't get along. The family dynamic is difficult to describe. One parent an alcoholic, the other emotionally abusive and manipulative. It was not a pretty childhood.
Those conditions made us all what we are today, though. In many ways, the die is set at childhood, and it's less "nature" than "nurture" in my opinion.
I don't know what went "wrong" in the family, but for some time, we were quite fractured. Some of that persisted into adulthood. It was never resolved between parents and children. It probably never will be.
There are the "unspoken" things. The things we as kids understand but we keep from our remaining parent. We all know that we're being played. It took us a while to figure that out, because it's a parent's job to be straight with you, right? Not necessarily.
Anyway, my younger brother was that Odd Duck. And now, at not yet 50, he's not here. There will be a hole in the family regardless of the fact that there were times when we declared him totally useless. Regardless of the fact that it was just easier for me to not speak to him any more than was necessary. Regardless of the fact that most of the nephews thought he was a moron because he was mean to them. They all had enough respect to just blow off the behavior and move forward.
But the Chaos Theory thing is what I'm having difficulty with. Death is final. And there are processes and procedures. There really is no room for drama in the beginning. Save it. See, perhaps this is the viewpoint of the eldest child of a chronic alcoholic and an emotional abuser. It's my "job" to just keep paddling the canoe and moving toward a goal. I have to. It's the way I function.
But the Chaos Theory that is my remaining parent is insisting that this death be dealt with as if the sky is falling, the earth is going to collapse and nothing else is relevant. My remaining parent is, as the Victorians would put it, "overcome with grief."
My theory is "jumped onto the Crazy Train." Maybe that's harsh. My remaining parent is trying to play the remaining 3 of us against each other, just when you'd think you'd want everyone to pull together. Well, we are together. We 3 siblings are united in trying to keep the drama at a minimum. The parent wants to be the center of attention, and will get to do that. Because of the way this parent functions, it'll be all the worker bees around the hive.
And here's my problem. I'm not fitting and not feeling it. Everyone has offered condolences, and I thank you. But I'm not sad. I'm not... anything. I'm sad for his kids. I'm sad for the fact that a parent has lost a child entirely too young and too suddenly. But I'm not sad that I lost a relationship, because there never was a relationship. I feel fake for accepting condolences, and I'm having to really bite my tongue and keep from saying, "Thanks but save it for someone else; we weren't close."
People have told me that even though we were estranged, I'll feel it. Because the square is now a triangle. Strange, though. The triangle that has existed with us for so many years has always felt more stable than the square that we grew up with.
I'm happy to have the kind of relationship with the other 2 that means we can call each other and say, "Ok, I heard ............. Now, what's the story?" because there always has been a story. And each of us only got one piece of it - never the same piece either.
I can't deal well with manipulative people. Just tell me what's going on. Just cut the drama, skip the hyperbole and let's get this problem solved or this issue addressed or just tell me what's needed. I don't deal with the vapors, the hysteria, the cunning and meanness that is manipulation of someone else against another. I just can't. I'm not wired that way.
So it's going to be a week of tension and stress. I have learned that it's important, though it may seem cruel, to disengage. To keep neutral. To breathe away the tension. All of that will be in play this week.
And then we'll cobble together what's left of the family. We will gather as parents with our own families, telling the kids that it's important to NOT be this dysfunctional. We will gather as siblings around our remaining parent and try to remember that a parent is a parent, regardless of the emotional fallout.
We will gather as siblings among ourselves and reinforce the relationships that keep us standing upright and knowing that, for better or worse, we are here for each other in the rough times. We may not be the Waltons, we're not touchy-feely kind of folks. But there's a bedrock there, and I need to believe that at least with the 3 of us, the relationship transcends spouses, parental issues, all that. I don't know how to be eloquent right now.
I do know that the triangle that is made up of the 3 of us is immune to the Chaos Theory that is now swirling around us. And right now, that's all I know.
So the socks are done. They're blocking now. I'll take a picture when I have them on.
Woot! And I cast on the Lettuce Leaf scarf, but there's a glitch. There are supposed to be 8 repeats in a row, and I'm only getting 6. The math doesn't work. But I'll go on for an inch or two - at least by that time, I'll have an idea how it works out. Otherwise, I can frog it and do a Crystal Chandelier pattern that looks really lovely in a sock-weight yarn.
Actually, I should just frog it and do the Crystal Chandelier. It's a solid light blue; that pattern would look better. A-frogging I go, I guess.
The Crystal Chandelier pattern is from Vogue Knitting Stitchionary 5 - Lace Knitting. I really like these volumes. Nice clear patterns, good photos. I use them almost as much as I use the big pattern book I bought a zillion years ago!
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| Purple Coneflower |
Caught a good pic of the coneflower. I planted them last year and they didn't do much. THIS year, they're gorgeous. The birds will love them, and I think they re-seed themselves. They're next to the birdbath. When Hubby gets home, I will have him put up the solar fountain device and we should be in good shape. Next to that, we have one of the new hummingbird feeders. But so far, I've only seen 2 of them.
I also bought a new thistle feeder, a very long one with multicolor perches on it. The goldfinches, picky little stinkers, have taken their time figuring out if they like it. But a couple have come around. There should be more. Just have to be patient.
And I'm still trying to process a Family Issue. Nothing to do with Hubby or kids. Just some stuff I have to think about. I haven't slept well in about 10 days; too many broken nights of sleep. My shoulders feel, in spite of yoga, like they're up around my ears. I'm feeling overwhelmed and like there's nobody to talk to. My sister and I have brainstormed and she's going to take the bulk of the work on this one. I can't. I'm not good in this kind of situation and she's the one who at this point has the expertise and the ear of the person who needs to stop the drama.
Because of that, and Hubby taking a long-ish trip to MT, I have just gone to pffffffth with my eating. Stress eating to the max. I can't seem to help myself. Which is a problem.
When I went on my bus trip, I was really good, considering. But on the other hand, there weren't a whole lot of healthy options. I added back 5 lbs. I haven't yet taken them off. I need to do that. I feel uncomfortable, particularly since the stress eating consists of eating a lot of SUGAR.
I mean, I seriously ate chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream....A lot. Every day. Sometimes twice. Oy.
During the last thunderstorm watch, we took down all the bird feeders. I couldn't reach the topmost one, so I put it on the porch. Where the chipmunks just tore into it. So I put it on a hook over the porch rail. And the birds found it!
Which is nice, but I have seed all over the porch. And I'd like to not have the critters there. Oh well. Could be worse. Could be rats. (shudder....)
So we're having an issue with Quinn. She's not happy with the fireworks. I mean SERIOUSLY not happy. I've taken a tip from a breeder friend of mine, Amy Peterson - check out her website here. She has gorgeous dogs, and she takes great care in her planning and breeding. She's devoted to her dogs.
I did call the vet, and they never called back. Not good. So anyway, Amy suggested 3 mg of Melatonin. She said it calms her phobic dogs without drugging them. We tried the Thundershirt, we tried a diffuser with a "dog-comforting pheromone" and we tried Composure - a kind of doggie chammomile. It's just gotten worse. She shakes. She gets freaky and runs around trying to find a place to hide.
The GOOD news is that it's nearly 6:30 p.m. on July 2, and NOBODY has set anything off that goes "boom." Fingers (and paws) crossed that it's a peaceful night.
Our garden has exploded. We haven't had to abide by the watering restrictions because it's been raining buckets. The lettuce is going crazy. My neighbors are starting to avoid me like I was the "insane zucchini person" that everyone knows. I'm a Lettuce Pusher... But I hate to have it go to waste, and we can only eat so much, right? I have to get the smoothie maker out again and start with the smoothie-detox thing. That'll kick the above-mentioned sugar addiction I've reactivated.
Another dilemma we - or I - have is that I have this friend I've had since 2nd grade. For a long time, we were joined at the hip. We reconnected when I came back to IL. But through a series of events, it's basically gotten to the point where she only calls when SHE needs something, and when we get together - which is increasingly rare - it's all about her and her kids - and her raising her grandkid. Now, we only see each other pretty much once a year. But this week, I got an invitation to the grandkid's 3rd birthday.
No offense to the grandkid. He's kind of cute. But there's no friendship there. I almost wish we could just up and move out to MT so that there was a natural end to some things. This friendship being one of them.
This is the gal who said, when I offered to make the kid's cake, "Oh, I'll just get one from Ultra - it's the same thing." Thanks. I made your wedding cake. From scratch. So she's at least off the "cake list." Oh, but before this, I made her daughter's baby shower cake. From scratch. And took pictures of the shower. And gave the girl an album of the pictures.
Anyway, I guess this is my year in life to learn to let go and let it roll. The stress isn't worth it. I have important things to work on. Not world-changing important, but important in my world. And at this point, my world is what I have to take care of. So we move on, push forward and look at what's ahead.
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| Happy 4th of July! |
We have no plans for the 4th of July other than keeping the dogs from having nervous breakdowns. We have our flag out and we have Great-Grandpa's bench out. I went to Menard's the other day and got some lovely (albeit cheap) solar lights that change colors. It's a very pretty look. I have them along the front bed, by the lilacs, by the Virgin Mary and in the Dog Memorial Rock Garden. Hey, for $4 a light, if they last 2 years, I'm happy.
And for good measure, here's Miss Tippi in her 4th of July gear. Kid #2 was standing behind me with a PBJ sandwich. Mind you, Tippi hasn't missed a meal in a while. But she's still a mooch.
And yes, after she posed, she got a tiny bit of crust.
Have a wonderful, safe, and peaceful 4th of July!
