Fresh Abreva

Abreva heals cold sores.

A person who gets cold sores the size of Rhode Island may think that she's built up a resistance to the medicine.  Or she may think that she remembered incorrectly about how much the Abreva helped in the past.

The reality is that the expiration date on the tube of Abreva is important.  If your Pepsi or your aspirin or your canned tuna is past the expiration date (within reason), no biggie.  But if your Abreva is nearing (or past) the expiration date, it won't be effective.  I know, I know how pricey those tiny tubes of medicine are.  But fresh Abreva works wonders.

Update

September:
Maggie encountered a virus the first week of school.  She starts to cough, and the coughing causes asthma problems, which results in more coughing, which exacerbates the asthma, and thus goes the cycle.  So she coughed her way through the month, missing most choir practices, a few church services, and several days of school.

Maggie applied for a part-time fast-food job not far from the house.  It seemed that they were interested in finding a spot for her.   Because they had just hired lots of newbies, they said they wanted to hold off for Mag until the end of October.  So she'll need to be getting in contact with them again soon.

Gary and I attended the symposium at the St Louis seminary.  Topic was catechesis, and we at CCA have some familiarity with the subject.  It took a huge amount of work to prepare for the trip.  Deacon had a truck when he went on trips; we have a compact car.  Deacon usually had several tables; we had one 6' table.  Gary wanted a brochure to hand out.  There was a lot of rethinking of how the CCA could be represented.  Then there was the loading, the trip, and the unpacking.  The trip consumed much of my September.


October:
Gary's dad died.  He had been failing slowly over the last year.  But as he quit eating, he became much weaker.  (Or maybe it's the weakness which makes a person quit eating?)  When Gary visited early in September, his dad was already becoming disinterested in this life.  When we visited as we traveled to St Louis, we figured he couldn't continue very long as he was.  He is baptized, and we were thankful that the pastor could be with him as he lay dying.  (Dad's kids were called and told, "Come now," but the distance meant that they didn't make it in time for a final goodbye.)

Most of the grandkids were able to attend the funeral.  There's that weird thing about funerals: in the midst of mourning, there's the joy of family togetherness and fun.

About a week after we returned from the funeral, we headed out for a beautiful drive to Minnesota, enjoying the fall colors.  We attended a most-awesome wedding and saw loads of friends.  And we visited with Paul, Mandy, and baby Henry (who seems to remember me ... and like me ... even though this was only the fifth time I'd seen him).  Paul told us how his new job is going and helped us understand the pattern of his [somewhat odd] work schedule.

The secretary at church is currently out on medical leave.  Several of us are dividing up her responsibilities, taking different days to man the office.  I have bulletin-prep day.  Add to that the other projects (secretarial, CCA, and my usual volunteer tasks) and I've been volunteering at church about 30 hours a week since we returned from St Louis.  No wonder the house is messy, the grass long, and the garage not yet ready for winter.  A few of the big pressing projects are now completed.  So things should be less stressful starting next week.

Maggie and I took one day this week to tackle some projects.  She cleaned bathrooms and living room and washed some windows.  I vacuumed the car, washed all the window-screens, and scrubbed the eaves which were starting to mildew.  Sore muscles the next day.  But boy, it feels good to start catching up on some of those projects that have been delayed since my hospitalization over two years ago.  I have my fingers crossed, hoping we can finish up the most critical pre-winter outdoor jobs this weekend.

Don't Be Wonky, My Blog

This week's discovery: ignore your blog long enough, and it will act up.  It will disappear temporarily so that you cannot [gasp] retrieve the recipes stored there.  A few days later, when you google for an old post, it's nowhere to be found.  Later yet, when you click on the link, the screen may give you a countdown to an ad-site and then go blank.  Weird stuff.  So I'm saying "HI" again, in an attempt to be Active.

For Thanksgiving the whole family (except middle-son and his wife) came for dinner.  Gotta brag on those kids: they decided it would be too much work for me and determined to split up the cooking and bring most of it with them.

I've been spending a lot of time working on a project at church.  This is an immense project.  I've been working on it for over a year.  At one point, it seemed that it would never end.  Ever.  I mean, never ever ever.  But (!) even though I'm not close to finished, I can tell I'm on the downward slope.  An end is in sight.  Somewhere.  Far away.  But visible nonetheless.  And the project is currently usable, even though it's not complete. 

Christmas tree is not up yet.  This bugs Maggie.

Christmas shopping is not done.  It's not going to be done, either.  Makes me feel guilty, but I'm not sure how to remedy it.   Is it grinchy to have no desire to buy gifts for people that they don't need, may or may not like, and are just going to clutter their homes?  If I could think better, I might come up with creative ideas.  Maybe next year?

I started lacto-fermenting vegetables.  This makes non-vinegary pickles, loaded with enzymes and probiotics.  It seems to be helping my tummy.  (I even had a little bit of ice cream without a stomach ache.  Awesomeness!)  The kids at school had asked what seemed to be an outlandish question: "Is there such a thing as pickled carrots?"  It just so happened that they asked the day after I started a batch of carrots.  So today, when they were having hot lunch, I took along my pickles and offered it to them.  Several tried it.  I don't expect that from kids.  Good for them!

Update

Not blogging.  Missing it.

A couple of big snows.  I think we finally (!) have all the snow removed. 

Taxes finished.  Woo hoo!

Maggie's pneumonia is gone.  Colds and general illness in the house aren't plaguing us at the moment.

Babysitting kids more than normal. 

Trying to catch up on schoolwork that was neglected during Dec/Jan illnesses.

Big news: another grandchild on the way.  Yee haw!

New glasses weren't adjusted right and my eyes were all googly-weird until I drove back to the optometrist (wearing the old glasses) a few days later.  Nice to be able to see again.

Book I'm reading is harder than anything I've read since pre-stroke.  But I'm enjoying it.  Biographies of Chinese women in the 1900s.

Starting this week, my work schedule is increasing two hours a week.  May not sound like much to you, but it seems like a humongous step to me.  Also, I have a follow-up with the neurologist soon.

Looked at a house in town this past weekend, thinking a move would give Maggie access to places (church, library, grocery store, pharmacy, doctor, gym, park, possible jobs, etc) without being chauffeured.  Some extra freedom for her.  But the house, a duplex, wasn't okay.  And we have some serious reserves about moving into the village anyway.  At least, the condition of the house made for a no-brainer decision!

Broken in 2014

Broken car.  The deer ran into it.

Broken brain.  Who knew there was an aneurysm waiting to burst?

Broken garden.  But Katie helped.
Broken body.  Side effects of the hospitalization and medications.
Broken garage floor.  Last winter was COLD.

Broken pipe in the septic system.  Last winter was COLD.

Broken furnace.  Again: last winter was cold.

Broken water-filtration system.

Broken lung.  Antibiotics can do wonders for Pneumonia-Girl.

Broken car again.  Another naughty deer.

Broken different-car.  Just some aging.

Youth group began reading Fisk's Broken this year, so Maggie and I read a chapter together before the discussion meetings.  Hey.  HEY!  It was NOT supposed to be an omen!  Here's hoping for a less broken summation-of-the-year twelve months hence.

The Unruliness!

I made cinnamon rolls yesterday. 

When I ate them, I bit them. 

I did not unroll them.  I just chomped a hunk out of the side.

I do believe there's been some sort of cosmic shift in my reality....

Trick-or-Treat

How do you know if you're too old?

If you're old enough to buy your own candy (that is, if you could be babysitting, shoveling snow, mowing lawns, delivering papers, etc) then you don't need to be out trick-or-treating.

Can you go with your friends -- and no adult along to keep watch?  That's okay for a couple of years, but it also signals that pretty soon you should be handing out candy instead of asking for candy.

I know most of the rest of American society disagrees with me.  But me?  I think the cute little beggars should be accompanied by parents. 

Dates of Easter

Grievous indeed that I need to have this in an easily accessible place, but what I think matters not.

2014:       April 20          April 20

2015:       April 5            April 12

2016:       March 27            May 1

2017:       April 16          April 16

2018:       April 1             April 8 

2019:       April 21           April 28

2020:       April 12           April 19

2021:       April 4               May 2

(Western Church in the first column.  Eastern Church in the second column.)

A Post about Nothing

(I didn't watch Seinfeld, but I think that's the line people used about the show.)

I found the old Playskool wooden puzzles and brought them upstairs.  Zoe had a great time with them yesterday.  She's just the right age for it. 

Our Culligan water filters needed replacing.  The salesmen think our system is obsolete and should be replaced.  I think they're trying to sell something.  But there's the niggling fear: what if they're right?  What if I'm spending the bucks on new filters, and it turns out to be wasted because the system is too old.  Why, oh why, can't I buy an appliance once and have it last my whole life long??

I was mean to the septic system today.  I put bleach in the wash.  Those white bath towels were looking so grungy.  They're still not white-white, but they look so much better.  Story is that one of my grandmas prided herself on having the brightest whitest laundry around.  She would be horrified at me.

Andrew started full-time work as a CNA.  He works evening shift.  

I'm hungry.  I am SO looking forward to Tuesday or Wednesday -- and a happier gall bladder -- so that I can have soup or burritos or lentils or a pbj or a hamburger or my favorite tilapia recipe.  [drooooool....]

Poor little granddaughter.   Her daddy has crud feet.  And her momma and grandma and great-grandma have crud feet.  Really now -- bunions already when she was two?  Thanks to a generous soul at church passing along virtually new "hand-me-downs," Alia wore Birkenstocks last summer.  This summer she's been aching but unable to explain why -- unable to know that this ain't how it's supposed to be, folks.  But wise Katie managed to figure it out and bought special supportive shoes and inserts.  (Really?  Inserts for a preschooler??  Yikes!)  Child is much happier!

Andrew and I have been hauling wood chips from the town's compost pile.  My plan was to put down cloth in certain weedy spots and cover it with a hefty pile of wood mulch.  I need to cut down on the amount of work around here, and mulch seemed like A Plan.  I'm beginning to wonder, though, if the wood chips are already too composted.  There seems to be a lot of dirt in with the chips.  Maybe I'm just going to end up with shallow-rooted weeds. 

Black raspberries came up volunteer.  Yowza -- I thought red raspberries had prickly thorns.  Nothing compared to these black raspberries.  These delectable little guys are the kind of thing you'd want to plant around your castle, next to your moat.  Yup, a fence of these canes would be some serious protection. 

Met with the lawyer this week about guardianship for Maggie.  After reading the paperwork, it appears that there are less drastic ways of accomplishing what we need, such as Power of Attorney paperwork.  So we're looking into those matters.

If we used Divine Service 3 (aka "page 15") every Sunday for the next few years, I do not think I would get tired of the Lack Of Variety.

Things have been kind of slow at work while our road has been under construction.  I'm looking forward to business picking up again soon.  I hate sitting at work during those occasional 10 minutes stints without customers, knowing that there's plenty to do at home.

The other day, I saw a little girl at the grocery store that looked amazingly like Alia.  When she turned around, it WAS Alia.  You know what?  There's something incredibly joyous about bumping into friends and family at the grocery store.  Rather than leaving with my groceries, I bopped through the store again, just to grab a few minutes with Katie and the girls.  These chance encounters provide a dose of happiness that is unreasonably huge.  Love it love it love it!

We're trying to declutter.  The weekly trash piles have been huge recently.  The give-away trips to Goodwill have been more frequent.  The pile in the garage for a rummage-sale is growing!  "But we could use this for [fill in the blank]."  NO!  Fighting the urge to hoard!!

Maggie is on a Beverly Cleary jag.  I'm just a tad jealous.

Someone here purchased a Wii.  I have mixed feelings.  The other people who live here do not have mixed feelings.

That's enough "nothing."  I probably left out some major stuff from this update.  But my brain is pre-occupied with my tummy ache.  So this is all there is.  For now.

Please Be Petty About the Pennies

If you're honest, you point out to the clerk* or the bank teller when you've been given too much change.  But some of us don't want to appear greedy by complaining if we were shorted a dime or a dollar.   Go ahead -- be "greedy" about such things: the bank tellers will be appreciative that you helped them avoid the mistake which would have their drawer out-of-balance at the end of the day.




*  Footnote: I doubt it is as strict for clerks as it is for bank tellers.  When I worked in stores or restaurants, it wasn't exactly okay but wasn't a humongous deal if your cash register was off by a quarter or a dollar.

Prom

Velcro Paws

Folding socks and hankies and napkins. And they're sticking to my hands.  Like as if my hands are so rough and dry and scaly that they're Velcro. 

Note to self:  there IS hand-cream in the house....

Kitchen Dancing

"Have you practiced this week?" the dancing instructor asks each week.  No, we haven't.  It's hard to practice when we don't see each other much. 

The local rec league offered ballroom dance classes, which some friends wanted to take.  But alas, too few couples enrolled; the class was in danger of being cancelled.  So they went on a recruiting mission.  That's how Gary and I ended up in dance classes for January and February.  Because of his mom's death and his dad's surgery, however, Gary missed two of the first four classes, and we're still playing catch-up.

So this week, we have [gasp] actually SEEN each other.  Y'know, been in the same place at the same time!  And we've looked at our cheat-sheet, tried to practice, and hunted up you-tube instructional videos to refresh what I couldn't decipher from our class notes.

Poor kitty.  The kitchen floor space is a whoppin' 5x10' area.  Rosie is wandering around the kitchen, begging snacks, looking to be petted, and she ends up getting bumped, trying to escape, and heading right back into the path of where we're ostensibly dancing.  Who would've thunk it would be hard to foxtrot and tango in 50 sq-ft of space?  With a cat tango-ing betwixt your feet? 

To the Polls

One 5-quart crockpot full of African peanut soup.  Bowls, spoons, ladle.
Hummus, sliced cucumbers, and pita chips.
Fresh salsa, guacamole, and tortilla chips.
Hot pot, tea bags, stevia, and mugs.
Water bottles full of good water from home (in hopes of avoiding the city water for at least part of the day).
Teriyaki beef jerkey, cashews, and trail mix.
Apples, pineapple chunks, cherry tomatoes, and tangerines.

It's going to be a LONG day at the polls.  The township provides donuts for breakfast, and sends along some white-bread buns & bagels to help with the pollworkers' lunch.  I do not need to start a long and stressful day on a sugar-&-white-bread fix.  So I'm taking along MY version of yummy comfort foods.

The prospect of out-of-state poll watchers scares me.  I guess part of the point is that they want to be intimidating, huh?

So how exhausted will I be, come evening?  Fall-into-bed tired?  Or so curious as to need to watch some election results?

Pastor Bender at Wrigley

Rachel took video last night from the stands, and hers turned out well too.  But John (Pastor's son) was down on the field, so this is the close-up version.

For those who haven't heard the story:
As part of our 50th anniversary celebration, the congregation attended a Cubs/Brewers game.  Brewers won; Cubs lost.  But Josh Vitters hit his first major league home-run that night ... right into our section of the bleachers.  The church janitor was the one who nabbed the ball, and he handed it to Pastor, who is a loyal Cubs fan.  (He jokes that it's very Lutheran to be a Cubs fan, you see.  It's all about the theology of the cross.)  When the Cubs approached him, asking what they could offer to encourage him to return the memorable ball to Mr Vitters, Pastor said he wanted to sing the National Anthem at a home game.  They'd never been asked that before.  But they agreed to try to make it happen.  And when they heard his audition tape, they gave him the opportunity.  And here he is ...

Eventful Day

On the way home from work, I wanted so badly to open the sun roof ... which doesn't exist on the car I was driving.  And this afternoon we sold the car with the sunroof.  I will miss it.  But one of those old cars needed to go.

Andrew and Bryce are all spiffed up, on their way to fetch the girls for the dance tonight.  Aren't they a couple of handsome fellows?!

Inconsistent Message

Gary and I walked into a gift shop we've enjoyed in the past. The first thing I saw inside the door, prominently displayed, was a pink nightshirt. The silk-screened picture depicted a pair of sexy high heels, several open bottles of wine, bubbles, and a little confetti, with the saying, "Zero to naked in 15 bottles."

Okay.

The very next thing I noticed was the music playing: "Come home. Come home. Ye who are weary, come home. Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling, 'O sinner, come home.'"



This does not compute.

Depending on Electricity

Big storm blows through. Lights go out. What now?

I could clean, right? Nope. The vacuum won't run without electricity. I can't fill a bucket of water to mop unless I have electricity to run the pump on the well.

I could sit down with Maggie and watch our TV show. Oops. No television or computer without electricity.

I could call Mom and see if she's available for a nice long chat. Oh, wait. No power means no telephone.

How about taking a long soak in a bubble bath, and doing a sudoku or reading a chapter of a book? Oops. There's that water snafu again.

Well, I have the strawberries and the sugar, and I can use a match to light the stovetop. I could make the jam. Wait -- do I want to start jam when I have no water to wash up the stickiness? Oh, and then there's sterilizing the jars. Not gonna work.

I could go weed the garden. With all the rain, the weeds should pull nicely. Oh, wait. Think how long it takes me to wash the mud off myself when I come in normally. With this amount of mud, I wouldn't even be able to open the door myself. Sure ain't gonna muddify myself when there's no water to wash my hands.

Shall I start supper? We could grill the chicken instead of roasting it. Hmm. Raw chicken. No water to rinse the meat or to wash my hands and the cutting board. Not a good plan. I'm feeling very much in need of water....

NO! Do NOT open the refrigerator and let the cold out, you kids!
NO! Do NOT flush the toilet! We have only one flush left until the electricity comes back on.

Look at those squirrels out there, running around in the wet grass, playing in the recently returned sunshine. Look at the birds out there, nabbing worms, not at all confounded by the lack of electricity.

Hey, I need to change a load of laundry. As I head toward the steps, I remember that my washer and dryer run on electricity.

Maybe I should call the power company's automated line and see if they've figured out how long this outage is expected to last. As I pick up the phone and find a dead line, I remember that I have to haul out the tracfone and use a couple of expensive precious minutes. And ... I discover they have no clue how long it will be until the power is restored.

Maybe we should head to town, making use of the plumbing and computers at the library, and then eat at Tony's. We head to the car, reach for the garage-door opener, and then remember. I guess we'll drive the van that's sitting in the driveway.



It was always easier to get through a power outage when I was growing up. At least we still had phones and water.

Over the Hill

Some years ago, we were visiting with our friends Fritz and Carol. Gary and Carol were in the kitchen getting a start on supper, and Fritz and I were sitting on the couch, just relaxing and talking. He said something I will never forget. He was 45 at the time, and he figured that meant he was probably "over the hill," more than halfway through life. He said he'd reached the top of the hill, and from here on out, he was not only closer to home, but also picking up momentum to reach his destination.

For most of the world, "over the hill" is a bad thing -- black balloons, black streamers, and birthday gifts of Depends and denture cleaner. But ever since Fritz made those comments in passing, I can't help but look at gray hairs and milestone birthdays as evidence of being that much closer to home.

That Necessary Mirror

So, depending on our age, we've probably brushed our teeth 10,000 to 75,000 times. Really now, WHY do we need the mirror?