I am in the hospital. I didn't pay attention to the warning signs my body usually gives me and I ended up sick. Really sick. So, though I dislike hospital stays (and who doesn't?), I allowed the ubiquitous them to put me in. I was led to believe it would be only for 5 hours of IVs. Nope, that was 2 1/2 days ago. Many tests later and listening to Clyde down the hall saying he needs to pee, I am still here.
I honestly thought I could go home today. My body just would not cooperate. They would take my temp and it would refuse to show up normal! What the heck is going on? I felt better! Why could it not show normal? Sigh.
After the nurse practitioner left my room...
Wait, I need to state right here, she is a sweetie. She is smart and knows her stuff. Throw in a huge amount of compassion and you've got Cindy.
Anyway, after the nurse practioner left my room, the tears started to flow. George got the tissues and said that we would take what comes. Everything would be ok. Didn't help. Tears kept coming. Thoughts kept coming.
I wanted to see my dogs.
I wanted a bath. Good God! The world had to know how much I needed a bath!
I wanted to be in my own home, in our backyard with the sun on my face.
I wanted the IV out, I wanted, I wanted, I wanted.... And then it hit me. In the coming weeks I would have several tests coming up. They were going to give me a little red schedule book. Much like older people would be given by other doctors' offices to keep track of when and where they needed to be.
NOOOOOOO!!!
I was getting old!
And irrational.
My brain kicked in and said "Stop It! Get hold of yourself woman!"
George went and asked if I could have access to the local internet service and was given permission.
A nurse arranged for me to have a shower and the IV was moved to a better, more manageable place.
Don't get to see my dogs just yet. But I have hopes for tomorrow.
And, I'm not old.

Thunderstorms

There is thunder and lightening outside. The real first of the season for our little town.
It is one of the reasons I like living in the middle of the country. We have seasons. Very distinct, one from another.
Not at all like real life. Seasons flow from one age to another. Only birth and death are the real definers.
Now this is not a downer. In fact, quite the opposite.
There are times when it would be pretty nice to have clear definitions in what to expect next. But perhaps those gray areas are what make us stronger and able to see more clearly.
Some daughters (not mine) are watching their father get married for the second time. Not something they are at all in favor of.
Nope, nope, nope.
Yet, it is bringing the 2 women much stronger in their relationship with one another and with their own immediate families.
Gray, bordering on dark, bringing on such color.

Lesson

A friend had to make calls to her husband's adult children last night. He has alzheimers and is not doing well. In fact, the next level in the disease has occurred. She remained matter of fact, trying to be realistic and positive all at the same time.
In between calls we talked about the previous call. Memories came back about each. Good ones, not so good ones. She would gear up for the next call. She smoked, drank a soft drink and before the very last call, even had a shot of "Jack". Her spaniel never far from her right hand. Giving calm and love when needed.
Her wish for her husband was that he have one more day of clear thinking. One more day of living.
She is a strong woman. But this is back breaking.
Spirit breaking.
We are all taught through our various faiths we can withstand anything. Nothing is put before us that cannot be handled.
These are all opportunities to learn, to know, to grow beyond.
Watching Carol, makes me wonder what she is to learn, what any of us are to learn from this. She is grieving over his loss. But the loss is in increments. Not immediate.
What are we and, more importantly, she to learn?
A little wisdom would be really appreciated right now God.

Playing with Fire

We sat outside this evening. The fire in the pit made of apple wood and sweet peas. We enjoyed the cool of the evening and warmth of the fire. The difference was delightful. George and I had debated back and forth getting the fire bowl. And finally it was just bought. We have not looked back.
Who knew having a fire could be so delightful?

Hi, I'm Karen. I am a food snob. Oh, I can call myself a foodie or foodist, but I really need to call a spade a spade. I am a food snob. Now the defense offered is the fact I am a really good cook. Can cook gourmet meals and not think anything of it. I get paid to cook for others. A good deal all the way around.
Today, one of my closest friends challenged my snobbishness.
We were chatting while she ate a quick lunch. It has been prom week at our high school and the drama of high school girls has reached a fever pitch. LB is one of the pair of prom sponsors and the stress is taking its toll. The sandwich she ate was not bad. Did not raise major red flags. However, what she chose for dessert...
On her desk was a piece of caramel cake with chocolate frosting. The cake had never been great to begin with - 5 days earlier. I believe this particular piece had been sitting on its paper plate on her desk for several days. I told her not to eat it. Said I could provide chocolate if that was what she was looking for...
When she tried to cut into the square with her fork, the resistance to the fork caused the plate to bend.
How wrong is that?
She ate it all. I was afraid for well being.
Well, LB lives. I think I need to take real cake or dessert in to both her and the other sponsor. Maybe the administration too.
They need a treat after this weekend of promerama drama.

Prom

My daughter, a senior in high school, has her final prom this weekend. Because of an arrangement made last year, she will be attending in a nearby town. Her beloved came to hers last year with the agreement they would go to his this year.
All the gee gaws and such have been seen to. A very modest budget was kept. Fi did well.
In working at the high school, I see what is being spent each year on prom and after prom. More than I spent on my house! I can't help but think there has to be a better way.
A close friend of mine is one of the sponsors for prom this year. She and another adult have been running themselves ragged getting ready. They have seen to it that this prom will be beautiful but way under budget in comparison to other years.
Due to a variety of reasons, there will some kids unable to go and they are peeved to say the least. These students feel entitled to prom. To the money that is spent.
Is it just time to stop? How do we get these kids past the feeling of entitlement? How do we get the parents past that feeling as well?
Any suggestions?

If it sounds too good to be true...

Jackie called me this evening. Straight up 6:00. Dinner time for us and for most people.
She was calling about the $500 grocery/gas giveaway I had entered on April 9. I had not entered.
Was my name not ----?
Um, no, that is my maiden name.
Oh, you mean ------? And you live at ---?
Yes, but I did not sign up for anything.
Perhaps someone else signed up for you? They knew you would love to win something like this.
Did I win?
Well,no, that drawing is not until July 4. Independance Day for our great country (c an't you here the Stars and Striped in the background?). But, you have won this month a free carpet cleaning for one room and free carpet cleaning supplies. We would love to come and demonstrate. When would be a good time?
Ah, well I have wood floors and won't be needing your services. For that matter, I highly doubt anyone in my family would sign me up for something with out my permission. They just know better.
Perhaps, you should go to your next caller and perhaps you should try a different tact. This one did not work.

My daughter looked on with great amusement.
I looked at her and said, "That is how it is done."

Green Glass

Due to timing and lack of motivation, the Easter bunnies never made it out to the shelves or cabinets. The blown decorated eggs and little baskets just didn't show themselves. I was too busy with work, cooking and everyday life to find them and rearrange the living room and kitchen to greet the spring with rabbits.
Easter Sunday came and went.
Today is the first Sunday after Easter. After church, we came home and went to work. Well, sort of. First a nap for me and the Sunday puzzle for George.
Anyway we went to work. He outside and me inside. The green depression glass has come out to greet the world for spring and summer.
We started the weeding process and the mowing and looking for bedding plants. Had our first dinner in the pergola for the season and the windows are wide open.
I realize there will be days when I will wish for cooler days. For now, this is pretty wonderful.

I am thinking about cooking again. It was just Thursday when I cooked for 120. I thought I would never want to look at another piece of chicken or piece of onion again. I was tired and cranky. Even went out to eat that night. And then it happened. I looked at what I was eating and what George was eating and said to myself "I can do this and better."
I'm back.
Just ordered a book on Greek cooking. Oregano and Marjoram are going in the garden this year. Along with the basil and thyme.
There will be eggs in the morning.
Life is good.

Locavore

I cooked for a lot of people today.
Correction: George and I cooked for a lot people today. While I did the baking and mixing and organizing, there is no way I could have done it without my husband.
The count was about 120. A good crowd and the food was appreciated.
An idea was proposed and whether or not something comes of it remains to be seen, but it has started me thinking.
I was asked whether or not I would consider doing cooking demonstrations, possibly filmed, using local foods. Highlighting what Kansas has to offer, especially during the summer and fall months when farmers' markets are in great demand.
I was flattered and said yes to considering, but, like I said, it started thinking. Why can't we buy more locally? Do people in this area really care where their food comes from? George grows a garden and there is nothing better than bringing vegetables and herbs in from the garden and using them immediately. Bringing something home from the market on Thursday evenings in Ellinwood is a delight. You get to catch up on what is going on in town and get something to cook with. Talk about your win/win situation!
We have found that even our local grocery store stocks some locally grown produce when able. With thesmall packing plant at the edge of town, there is a good chance you have a good knowledge of hoof to table as well.
Know where your food comes from. Know who grows it.
Make that connection. Make that difference.

Cooking

I love to cook. This week could challenge that emotion. I did breakfast Sunday morning, dinner that night and 120 on Thursday. I am beginning to wonder what I was thinking.
The really perplexing thing of it all?
On Saturday (giving myself a day) I will start thinking about what to cook next.

In Slow Motion

George and I were having a really nice chat with our children this evening. One of those discussions where you know the kids are actually listening and contributing. The points are getting through. We talked about doing for others for no other reason than that is what is to be done. No remuneration, no praise. Just a need that is to be filled. Gave great causes as examples. Doctors Without Borders, Habitat for Humanity. That kind of thing.
Like I said, a great discussion.
I had to bake and got up to go to the next room but still within earshot. Our oldest was in the kitchen with me. Our son went to his room and Fi stayed in the living room with her dad.
That is when things went into slow motion. George uttered the fatal words to Fi. "You know what you need to where rather than that type of jean?" I swear, I could hear her eyes roll. This is the daughter that will listen to her dad and smile sweetly and agree and then go on and do her own thing regardless. She does it with me too. But I knew the jeans discussion would go no where fast. I tried to stop it by shaking my head in his direction and was greeted with a quizical look. I tried to say something to redirect the conversation and nothing really came out.
Our oldest beside me looked at her dad and stated if he had said something like that to her, she would have said something he would not have liked.
Yeah, that helped the matter.
Fi tried to say the type of jean he was describing did not exist for her. George told her the pockets were down too low (they are, but...). Finally, the moment was over and he said "Never mind" and shook his head. Fiona just smiled sweetly and went on her merry way to Fiona world. Cait just shook her head and walked off. Sam walked out of his room, looked around and then retreated.
I think he knew.