~“The Blog That Watches Back”~

Friday, July 27

Crazy Daisy,leftover baked potatoes, and a 45 yr old knee

I offer you a picture, taken by Tone. Of his breakfast. All my kids are foodies, and enjoy cooking. One of the lessons is "what to do with leftovers so Dad will eat them" He doesn't like eating the same meal twice in the same week. Since I Love the guy, I try to comply. Leftover baked potatoes became hashbrowns for last nights dinner. Tone took them, mixed them into scrambled eggs and topped with cheddar. He made a breakfast platter only a 23 yr old could eat and walk away from.Of course he took a picture, and Facebooked it. I laughed, but then took the time to look at the platter he used to plate his meal. This is a platter from the crazy daisy Corelleware set. It was the first set I had, in the beginning our our marriage and with tiny kids. Then came the Ivy set. They both, um, died, an unnatural death, by droppage. I have a few plates left that I use under plants, and this platter. It got me to thinking that the leftover plates, from long gone dinner ware, tell the tale of a long marriage. At Steves wedding, the DJ had all the married couples come onto the dance floor. Then....OK, if you're married less than a year, please leave the floor. Then, if you've been married less than 5 years, please leave, and so on. They got to the "30 years and over" crowd, and only 2 couples were left on the floor. Steve and I and an older couple. THAT was quite a shock. I don't FEEL that old....I feel like a 30 yr old with a 45 yr old right knee. I suggest when the times comes to buy new dinner ware, that you try to save the last piece or two from your dinner ware sets when you replace them. They will provide a lot of fond memories. When you take the time to really look at them. And remember them.
Just got off the phone with Steve. Told him the yaw my thoughts took this morning. "In the blink of an eye, baby, in the blink of an eye." I agree.

July 27th:
 ~Take your Hpouseplant for a Walk Day
~National Lumberjack Championships [July 27-29]

~ Love you Steve and Keri! Happy Honeymoon, Welcome Home :o) ~

Tuesday, July 17

The Big Day

This is it.
Wedding week for our older son, Stevie. Nerves and tuxes flying all over the place. If there is one thing I ADORE seeing it is a man in a Tux. Even better if that man is Big Steve. Well, the music for the reception has been chosen. Stevie has decided on the number for the Mother/Son dance. Steve Sr. and I have 2 songs...one "Love Shack" we chose the second we heard it, as that would be the name of our future home. And this from Dean Martin. I have blogged this number before. Not so much for the way it parallels our married life, but the whole tenor of the song reminds Steve and I of times past. Of all the loyalty and hard work it took to get us where we so very happily are today. For our son to give this nod to me on his wedding day, shows me that our kids recognize what their Mom and Dad have. Which thrills me, because it is exactly what I want for them. Drop dead Loyalty, Passion, and Love.

My Dearest Steve and Keri, I wish for you the same Love and Passion we have, and that you remember to hold tight to it in the hard times....and there WILL BE ball busting hard times......because when those times pass, what you have will be all the stronger, and better for it.

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Thursday, July 12

~A Tale of 2 Asses~

~Act 1~
Music. there isn't one bit of my life that doesn't have music associated with it for me.  I play a few instruments, but my first love, and the one I play the most, is my cello. To that end, I have 2 shuffles, an iTouch, and a nano. One Shuffle is dedicated to music that I play along with. Slap that headphone on, start the shuffle, and play until my hands make me stop.. The shuffle needs to be charged.

~Act 2~
Early this week, Steve had an MRI, to track the progress of his brain tumor. It has not changed in any way, this is very good news. The radiology lab gave him a cd with the prints of what he claims is his brain on it. I looked carefully at the images, but I didn't see anything.

~Act 3~
And so we have the tale of 2 asses.

Last night, Steve told me hon, my puter is acting up, would you look at it for me. It takes a lot longer to boot than usual, it's loud as hell, and this just started a day or two ago.

Bright and early this morning, I boot his puter, and it sounds like it's grinding coffee, WTH?? I update and run his anti virus programs. The last programs requires a reboot to finish the process. I just happened to lay my hand on the body of his laptop at that time. And felt it. The dvd drive in motion. Mr. Ass had left a cd of his brain in his dvd drive. At every boot his puter was trying to run his brain, but it could not find it. I called him, and we had a good laugh about not being able to find his brain, nor run it.

Ass 1.

I am done now, great wife points! Let's charge that shuffle and go play!

I cannot find that #$%$ shuffle charging cord anywhere. You know the shuffle has a distinct lil pod it sits on to charge, so you can't be swapping the cord with the itouch or nano cords.

I tore this place APART. Start getting very upset, WTF??? One and one half hours pass, and I am really upset now, that sucker is just GONE. I sit down, trying not to cry, and glance at the bag the iTouch cord is in. And THERE is the shuffle cord, Mrs Ass remembers thinking, keep the music cords together, and separate from the phone cord.

Ass 2.

I call Steve again, and tell him, you win. *I* am a bigger ass than you. Explained what happened. He got a pretty good chuckle out of that, *me* being in the ass seat.  Hey, part of being a good wife is letting the husband win every once in a blue moon while.


On the plus side...I did have a basket, in which all the cords had their own bags. The basket isn't big enough anymore. I really wish manufacturers would start making universal charging cords, but hey, that would be cheaper and better for the consumer, so THAT will never happen. In the meantime, I don't intend on wasting one more minute searching for cords, this accordion file will see to that:
- 12  Simplicity Day
- 9-15  Nude Recreation weekend
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Wednesday, July 4

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Tuesday, July 3

Back to the Future

It isn't a very good day here for women. I just saw this story on the news. I thought this type of mysogenistic bullshit ended in the late 70's, early 80's. I was dead wrong. There are still men who think women should look like barbie before they dare open their mouths to  [gasp] speak. I feel very downhearted tonight. And I hope this dear old senator retires. He obviously is having a problem tracking. Todays date is July 3, 2012. Not July 3, 1960.


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Karma [you can do something about it]

This morning I went grocery shopping.
You might not think that is blogworthy, unless you live where I do.

Today [Tuesday] is the Community Day for the 4th of July, complete with fireworks this evening.

We abut the town park. Where all parades start and end, and where Community Days are held.

This means that the police block off the entrances to my development. Literally, with sawhorses.

Very nice.

Depending on the attitude of the cops on duty, you are smiled at and waived thru, grunted at, or asked to provide your drivers license as if you are tresspassing on your own property. that type of cops acts as if he has the right to prevent you from going home, and that by allowing you by, he is doing you a favor.


I do everything in my power to avoid trying to get in or out once those sawhorses go up.

That was what made me decide to go to the closest grocery store...and rush thru the shopping, to get home before the police shut us down. Instead of the one, 15 minutes away but sent me 4-10$ off your 75$ minimum order coupons. [we don't need to mention the minimum. When I grocery shop I am ALWAYS over the minimum. Way, waaaaay over the minimum.]
Of course it was one of *those* mornings. No more than 3 steps and someone is in your way. A person on one side of the aisle, their cart on the other, and them clueless. Someone talking on the phone. Listlessly picking things up off the shelf, staring at them as thought they are artifacts from ages long gone, and placing the items back on the shelf. Eating cherries out of the bag, and leaving the bag in the soda aisle. Stopping in the middle of the aisle to yell NO SHIT!!! into their phone.

Deep breath. Relax ! Lots of sighing.

I finally hit checkout. And I have a trainee casher. Very nice young lady.

She was doing great, until she hit the produce. Had to ask the employee that was training her, and helping me bag, for a plu. Silence. I look at the woman. And she is crying. Making no sound or movement, but streaming tears down her face. She plods around, types in the code, and returns to the bagging area in silence. Another plu code. Another silent walk. I am not a nosy person, but she was obviously in pain, so I asked her, are you ok? She says. Today is the anniversary of the death of my child.

That rocked me right back on my heels. And in a flash, I got the picture. Fucktard manager, this is the day before the 4th, I don't care WHO died, if you are on the schedule then you ass will be here or I will make your life hell. She couldn't afford to take a day off, and at any rate they will not give you the day before or after off and give you the holiday pay. So she showed up.

For me personally, I cannot think of a worse torture than losing a child.

So I went around, leaned in close to her ear, and told her how sorry I was for her loss. She enveloped me in a bear hug. I could feel her shoulders moving, I could feel her pain. And lookie here, who should be approaching but SOMEONE IN AUTHORITY [I think they think of themselves in capital letters like that, all they need are jackboots and a riding crop to complete their wardrobe] I pretended that I didn't see him, but loud enough for him to hear, I asked the trainee to get the floor manager. As he nears, I said hon, you really don't need to be dealing with this here, you want me to tell the manager to send you home? [what if she was really strapped for cash, I didn't want to overstep and have her lose pay cause of my mouth] She just nodded. He heard the conversation, and gave her a brusque nod.
The Big Man, giving a passing nod and an evil eye to a peasant. And a fucking sickly sweet smile to me. I already e-mailed corporate on his sorry ass. I truly dig management...don't forget who I am married to...but on his worst, so-far-back-in-the-doghouse-you-can't-see-the-whites-of-his-eyes days, Steve would NEVER treat an employee....a HUMAN.... ANY living entity...like that.

No matter how big a shit you are, you are a little shit in the bowl of the universe.

And THIS little shit just made sure THAT shit got some of what was coming to him. Karma baby. Have a heapin' helping.

[p.s. Just spoke to my mail lady. She told me, fire trucks cop cars...both local and state,... and ambulances...are all STATE vehicles. That little truck she drives is a FEDERAL vehicle, and it supercedes all local and state vehicles. Maybe I'll ask her for a ride home in the mail truck next time they close us off. And water balloon the cops. I'll be with the feds, everything will be ok. ]

July Monthly observance:
    - Bereaved Parents Awareness Month
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Sunday, July 1

Thank you Honey/September 5, 2011

September 5. 2011.
Everyone can tell you where they were when Kennedy got shot, or where they were when the 9/11 attacks occurred. A deeply shocking event will do that to anyone.

It certainly did it to me.

I had a regular check up with my doc. Included in that visit were the results of the annual blood work.

I was a pre-diabetic, I was ONE POINT off of being diabetic. My doc sat there with a pad in her hand, about to write me an rx. For metformin.

I froze.

Diabetes runs like a freight train thru my family, on both sides. It is what is listed on my Mothers death certificate as the cause of her death. There were many contributing factors to her death, but diabetes was the gorilla in the room. I became her primary caregiver. I watched her go thru renal dialysis 3x/week because her kidneys shut down. I became her dietician, learning [according to knowledge at that time] what she should and should not eat.

But she died. And here *I* am, sitting there, getting the same diagnosis. THIS CAN'T BE. I said WAIT! Isn't there anything I can do, on my own, without the need for a pill? I believe that is the start of a slippery slope, from which there is often no return. She said "Well, you could lose weight. And exercize. You are borderline. I can't make you any promises, but I believe if you do those things, you might be able to turn this around."

And so *I* remember exactly where I was on September 5th.

Walking out of the docs office, feeling panic, a cold sweat, shock. Yeah, it was shock. WHAT the HELL do I DO? WHERE do I start?

I came home and researched all that I could and made a list of things that I could change. And, one at a time, started doing them.

Blood sugar Sept 5 2011=125

Blood sugar Dec 2011= 105

Blood sugar April 2012= 101

I lost the weight, am no longer even pre diabetic, and made changes that I could [mostly] live with ! If you are struggling with weight loss or prediabetes, I am a walking advertizement for hard, hard, ball busting work.

I'm working so fucking hard, but it looks like I am doing it. If this blog entry doesn't sound like me, it's because every time I think about that day, I feel that sick sense of shock and horror. Mama WAS NOT HAPPY.

I believe I mentioned that at one point I thought about not blogging anymore. I posted one of the reasons back then. The other is....when I am not telling you about this life altering gorilla-in-the-room thing that happened to me, I'm hiding it. I am no good at hiding things, just ask Steve or the kids. So as I continue to blog, I will be mentioning that part of my life as well. I could NOT have done any of this without Steve. My rock and my best friend. The one who looked me straight in the eye and told me he believed in me, that he KNEW I could do this. Who made sure I had a dreadmill....you will never see me refer to a "treadmill" because to me that fucker was, is, and always will be a Dreadmill. Who held me when I would cry that it was just too hard, I couldn't do it. And he kept saying, I know you can do it.

Thanks Honey.

July 1st:
~International Chicken Wing Day
~Second Half of the Year Day

-Work will win when wishing won't-
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