Grateful. Rectified. Stupefied. Mystified.

I am so grateful I have this blog and read others blogs.  Just about the time I think I am going crazy, someone posts much the same thing on their blog, and I feel so much better!  

Like when it comes to family matters.  My (pretend) DIL told me, when she called to tell me about my son's cancer diagnosis.  "Your family is so weird!  You don't want anyone--even family members to know when you're sick.  In my family, we call each other every day.  If one of us doesn't have a bowel movement, we discuss it."

She thinks our family is weird?  Well, I don't know if I'd want our family to be that "open", but it would be nice if we knew what was going on.  As I said, "I wish I had known so I could have prayed specific prayers for Mark."  

BUT--just when I think I have the weirdest family on this earth, I read anothers' blog to find they have family much the same.  Medical tests being done without siblings knowing."Why didn't you tell us?"  "Because there's nothing to tell."

My Mark didn't tell anyone he had a prostate problem.  He was going to wait until after the tests and the surgery and then let his family know.  Of course, after the diagnosis, he got so scared, he didn't want anyone to know and feel sorry for him.
<My family has a real problem with pride!  You have noticed that I share that problem too?>

Just when I think that my Daddy was the meanest ever, I read anothers' blog that speaks of their problems with an emotionally absent Mother or a harsh Father.  Just when I get depressed because I was involved in spousal abuse, I read anothers' account of the same.

Just when I start to mourn the fact that my youngest daughter won't speak to me and sorta hates me, I read others blogs and they speak of siblings not speaking to them, or children who don't seem to care.

When Fred died and I was nutsy-cuckoo and thought I was losing my mind in the fog, I read of others going through the same thing.

As long as there is one other person who has experienced or is going through the same thing I am--for some reason, it makes me feel better.  

Misery loves company? or "Thank goodness, I'm not the only one.?"  I guess it reassures me that I am normal in my thought process and I can go on, because these other women have experienced it all and they are quite all right?  

At least as "all right" and "normal" as any human can be!
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My sister has a condition with Hemangioma.  She first had the problem when she lived in New York.
Hers are on her liver and cause a lot of abdominal pain.  A Hemangioma is (non-cancerous) excess collection of blood vessels that appear on the skin or internal organs.

They went away, or at least the pain did, until two months ago.  So she has had to have MRI's and ultra sounds, just to make sure something else wasn't wrong.  They could see the two scars from the original Hemangioma's, but they had not enlarged or come "back to life", so to speak.

She told me all this, before the tests and phoned me the minute she got the results.  Wonderful!  I worried less because I knew what was going on.  She didn't have to tell me and I never would have known, but I'm glad she did.  It renewed my feeling that she and I tell each other everything and it also made me feel that I am still of use and significance to her life.

This Thursday, she is going in for a colonoscopy--just to make sure the little twinge of pain she is having in her side isn't from something bad.  I'm sure it's not, but--I'm so glad to know she shared with me.

I am the kind of person who would rather know--even if it's something really, really bad, because I can deal with it better.  Feeling a "hint" that something isn't right and going on day after day and not knowing for sure, drives me straight up the walls!
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If you remember, I had written that every time I went out to supper with Pearl and Merle, one or the other of them complained about their meal and usually got it free?  I finally decided that I wouldn't go anywhere that was more than a burger joint because, it was sort of embarrassing for me for them to return perfectly good food and I really don't enjoy listening to all their complaints all during the meal.

Pearl told me last month that they wanted to take me out and treat me to supper for all the computer work I've done for her.  I kept putting her off until she acted sort of offended and I felt bad.  She called yesterday and asked me to go to supper with them tonight.

She wanted me to pick the restaurant and I refused, so Merle picked Outback Steak House (which just happens to be one of my best favorites).  I had a gift card from there with a bit of money on it and wanted to use it--it's over four years old and I would never go there alone to use it.  Plus what I wanted to order would probably be a bit over their price range.

They picked me up and we sped (60 mph in a 50 mph zone) up to Brighton.  Their car is 20 years old and has 350,000 miles on it.  It sits very low to the ground.  I sat in the back, about 12 inches from the pavement, with a hole in the floor and a piece of heavy plastic over it, as the car bucked and rattled along.  Thank goodness it didn't take us long.

Lobster tail and steak was on special!!  My two favorite eats of all time.  I had the kid check the amount left on my card = $23.67, so I figured I could order the 9oz Filet Mignon and steamed Lobster tail, which came to $30.95 and that way they'd only have to pay seven bucks for their treat to me.

First Pearl complained that the booth was too slippery and her feet didn't touch the floor and the table was too far away from her.  I was sitting opposite them in a chair so I slid the table nearer her.

Merle complained that he couldn't read the menu and I suggested he put on his glasses, which he did.  Then he complained because it was too dark to read--he had put on his prescription sun glasses.

Then they both complained that the bread had too crunchy a crust and the butter tasted sweet.

Our meals came and mine was heavenly!  That lobster tail was gone in six bites and my Filet was so tender, I could cut it with my fork.  My baked potato had half a pound of butter on it and the salad was so fresh and crisp!

Pearl devoured her sirloin, loaded baked potato, salad, and soup, and proclaimed it delicious!  (YAY).

Merle is very slow now and I could see he was having trouble cutting apart the bar-be-cue ribs he had ordered.  He finally picked up the slab and chewed a bit on the meat on the ends.  Then he finished his potato and salad.

Pearl said, "Don't you like your ribs?  You always order them when we come here."

"Too tough to cut."

When the waitress came with the bill, Pearl told her, "He couldn't eat his ribs because they were too tough."

The waitress said, "Oh, I'm so sorry.  I'll take to the manager and try and get that taken off your bill."

She left to adjust the bill and I thought to myself, "Not again!"

"Merle, I've never had ribs.  Could I take a taste of yours?"

He slid his plate over my way.  Then I noticed--he had been trying to cut the bone and not the meat in between the bones.  

I didn't say anything, but cut me a rib and gnawed on it and it was tender as could be!

Pearl said, "Are they tough?"

I slid the plate over her way.  "Not too bad, but I don't care for the sauce."

She cut a rib off and started eating on it.  "Well Merle!?  What is wrong with you?  These are melt in your mouth tender and really good!"

Merle said, "How did you get them cut?  I couldn't even cut them."

She slid the plate back to him and quietly said, "You didn't have your glasses on and were probably cutting the bone instead of between the bones! Don't eat any of that.  Just leave the plate there or they will charge us for your meal."

We got the bill.  Pearl's was 15.99 as was Merle's.  They took his off, so the bill came to around forty-five dollars.  With my gift certificate that means the total bill came to around 15.99--covering Pearl's portion.

We rattled and bounced back home and were gone exactly seventy-five minutes and that included the drive both ways.

They don't know how to "dine out".  It's get in there, get your food, woof it down and get out.

Thanks for the treat.

Never again!

Recipe for John

PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN CAKE MINIS

1 can (20 oz) and 1 smaller can Pineapple slices, drained, juice reserved from large can

1 box, Betty Crocker SuperMoist yellow cake mix

½ cup vegetable oil

3 eggs

½ cup melted “real” butter (melt with defrost in microwave)

¾ cup packed brown sugar

12 Maraschino cherries

Large muffin tin

Heat oven to 350 degrees

Spray 12 muffin cups with cooking spray

In large bowl, beat cake mix, oil, eggs and reserved pineapple juice with electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds.  Beat on medium speed for 2 minutes.

In small bowl, mix together melted butter and brown sugar.

Spoon 1 ½ teaspoon of butter mixture into bottom of muffin cup

Top each with pineapple slice and cherry.

Spoon cake mix batter over pineapple—fill to ¾’s full

I use a gravy ladle

Bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Cool 10 minutes.

Run knife around edges of cakes to loosen.

Invert muffin tin onto cookie sheet.

Serve warm or cool completely and freeze in air tight plastic container

Extra special good if warmed in the microwave and add a small scoop of vanilla ice cream to the side of the cake

Guess What?

Yesterday, I got up, fed the cats and instead of grabbing a glass of cold caffeine, and heading to the computer room, I put some Cherrios in a smallish bowl, laid on half a banana, milk, sugar and got a juice glass and filled it with orange juice and sat down and ate it.  THEN, I brought the glass of OJ in here and roamed around on the computer.

I felt great all day!!!  I repeated the same process this morning.  Who knew that eating something first thing in the morning, instead of forgetting to eat until mid-afternoon, would keep me steady on for the whole day!  

I did have a bad spell this afternoon, but not for lack of food.  I had been doing some really close work on my knitting, then I leaped out of my chair and hurried into the kitchen.  MAN!  Either my eyes hadn't had time to readjust or my blood pressure dropped outta sight, but I had to lean over with my forehead on the counter top and hold on for dear life, or I was going down.

Not Vertigo, as the room wasn't spinning or anything like that, just a dizzy weakness, with a roaring in my ears like I was going down!  It passed in a few minutes, but....I have had this before.  Could be the meds I am on--every single one I take has light-headiness as a side effect, or the low blood pressure or--whatever.  It was scary though because, while it is happening, I cannot figure out how to walk back to my chair, my legs won't work, my eyes are blurry, my brain is a messed up foggy maze.
It used to happen more than it does now--like several times a day, but still in all--it is bothersome.  I just might ask the doc about it and see if I need to go to a Neurologist.

So, today, I spent most of the morning working on getting these genealogy books printed out.  3 done and ready to go to the printer to be punched, backed and spiraled.

I watched my Soap, then spent the next hour putting together my first big pot of spaghetti sauce for Christmas.  20 quarts are needed and I do five quarts at a time.  I suppose I could double the recipe?  Scared to do that.  I have had failures with doubling recipes and this is a most important task to get perfect!

Along about 4:00, John called to tell me he was making ham/potato soup and, "I'll have dinner at six for you."  
Cool.  He makes the best soup!

5:57--John was calling, I picked up the phone and said, "You have three minutes.

"It might be more like twenty," he said.

"Well--hurry up.  I'm about to gnaw my own arm off I'm so hungry!"

6:30--John was calling.

"Yesssssss?"

"It's done!  I gotta get dressed and I will bring it over."

"Get dressed?"

"Yeah, it's gets so hot in here, I cook in my underwear."

"Yes, please dress.  I'd hate to hear what the neighbor's would think to see you walking over here and coming in my house in your nothings!"

6:55--John finally arrives.  I'm sitting in the chair, Buddy is on my lap and we both are almost asleep.

I waved John to come in and he hurriedly came in and directly to the kitchen.

"I've got two plastic containers of soup in here and it's hot and burning my hands.  I also brought you four King Hawaiian rolls."

I just sat in my chair and let him set everything down and come back into the living room and sit down.

"Remember those little pineapple upside down cakes you made?"

"Yes.  Did you like them?"

"They were delicious!  Can you tell me how to make them?"

"Sure.  It's easy."

"I'm going to friends house for Thanksgiving.  They always want me to bring my Corn Casserole, but I also want to take those cakes too."

"Do you have a muffin tin?"

"I have cupcake tins."

"Nope.  Did you notice that the cakes were larger around than cupcakes?"

"Yeah.  I wondered how you did that."
"They have muffin tins, at Meijers, six cups to a tin and they are larger."

"Okay.  I'll get two and then I can make twelve at a time.  I need twenty-four."

"Okay.  Get a can of pineapple slices, some maraschino cherries, vegetable oil, eggs, brown sugar REAL butter and a yellow cake mix."

"Okay.  I'll do that in the morning while Maisey is at the beauty salon."

"When you get all the stuff, come on over and I will have the recipe typed up for you and show you how to make them."

"OKAY!"
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The minute he left, I literally dove into the soup.  Ate it right out of the plastic container. 

 OMGOSH!!!  

Small bits of ham, potato slices, celery, carrots, onions in a delicious light creamy base.  I ate all of one of the containers.  So glad he brought two.  And those Hawaiian rolls?  I had never had them.  Kind of sweet and so delicious--with half a pound of REAL butter on them.

Now, I gotta remember to type up the recipe for him and put the pictures, I took when I made it,  on the page.

Spaghetti sauce has now simmered for 6 hours.  I will put it in the refrigerator over night and then simmer a bit more tomorrow, until it is nice and thick.
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By the way, remember the sweet pictures of Maggie the Cat I posted?  Well, apparently she had a Bi-Polar attack because just after I went to bed last night, she started tearing up and down the hall.  Jumping on the bed to launch herself off down the hall again.  I yelled, "NO!" a couple of times and she stopped, but...while I slept she was still on a tear and I woke up to this.

Golly Gosh!

It seems all I do lately on this here blog is catch up.  The time change or something.  By the time I come in here to post--it has been pitch black outside for hours and I am too tired.

Tuesday:  I took Pearl and she and I got our hair cut.  She went totally nutzy-cuckoo!  Had her hair cut almost as short as mine--real short in back.  I love it!!!  I was kind of worried about what Merle would say--and her daughter.  They are the two reasons she won't wear her new $300.00 glasses.

I kept telling her how attractive the new cut was.  "You even look younger!  I like how neat it looks and not hanging down on your collar."

On the ride home, she said,"I don't know what Merle is going to say."

"Who cares?  It's your hair.  You can wear it anyway you want.  Did he ask your permission before he started growing that awful, scraggly beard of his?"

"No!  Doesn't he look awful?"

"Yes.  If he gives you a hard time, tell him to go piss up a rope!"

Then an few minutes later, Pearl called me and invited me up for pizza they were having delivered.  Perfect!  I was out of food and tired.

I asked Merle, "Do you like Pearl's hair cut?"

"Ah...yeah...it's okay."

"Okay?  It's beautiful!  Her gorgeous pure white hair, looks thicker now and....so easy to take care of and neat."

"Well...yeah...I guess...she won't have to spend so much time in the bathroom in the morning."

Dar came over when I got home.  Oh my!  She is just the rudest individual I have ever met, I think.  Of course, she had to go into minute' detail about her father's visit and how wonderful it was and how he left her with five thousand dollars for his time there and how he is so funny (actually he's kind of senile) and how he likes to give out gold fifty cent pieces to everyone he meets.  (I never got one.)  and how it is just so funny and cute that he flirts with every woman he meets. (yeah--right).

She said, "It's just too bad that none of my neighbors seemed to want to go over and visit my Daddy and make his acquaintance.  Oh well, it's their loss."
(I felt no loss.)

Then, she took a breath and went right into a tirade about work and just how important she is to the company.

Another breath and she went into a story about re-finding her Podiatrist, that had left to set up an office in another town and how she hasn't gone to a foot doctor since he left and then she found out he's back in the area and she went in yesterday just to see him and make sure he was staying and told him how thrilled she was and he was the best and she needed an appointment ASAP, because, "Jack is the only one I trust to touch my feet!"  (gag me with a spoon!)

Then she got into something about how her mother and daddy were so mean to her when she was growing up and how that has affected her entire life, but now daddy loves her and just dotes on her and spoils her..........................yada, yada, yada.

Then, she asked me how I have been and when I went to answer her, she checked her Fit-Bit bracelet, her watch and her phone.

"Oh, oh.  I better take the long way home.  I haven't walked my required steps today."

and off she went.....................
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Today, I felt weak and sick, dizzy and tired, but--after my Soap, I got in the car and off I went.  Stopped at Tractor Supply and a nice young person loaded two 40# bags of bird seed on a cart and took them out and loaded them into my trunk for me.

Up to Wal-Mart to get a prescription filled and order my new glasses.  Then I walked the entire store to the tune of a heavy cart full of stuff.  (Only after I got home did I realize I had not bought myself any food.)  I was so weak and dizzy I felt like I was going to stumble and drop into a heap.  A nice young cart-boy pushed my cart out to my car and loaded all the heavy stuff into the trunk and back seat.

I was a mile down the road before I remembered I hadn't picked up my prescription.  Back to Wally World!  Park the car.  Walk back in.  Going to fall on my face!

Then on to get an oil change--didn't have a coupon, but they just took $7.00 off the total price for me.  A cute young Arab looking guy and I had a nice chat.  His hair was longish on top with a pony-tail that looked like a stubby tail on a dog, and the rest of his head is close cropped.  That was what our chat was about.

Then to the car wash next door where I got a half-price car wash because I had my sale receipt from the oil change place.

I drove home in a half stupor and called John to see if he could help me unload the car.  He said he was on his way to take a meal to the elderly couple, then he had church, but he'd stop by around eight-fifteen.  And he did!

That gave me a chance to eat something and I immediately started feeling better.  I am really bad about not eating breakfast and maybe only a cheese stick for lunch.  No wonder I was ready to drop dead!!!  I really need to change up my schedule and start eating cereal and milk and orange juice, when I first get up.

I had two pieces left of the small pineapple upside down cakes I made and I gave then to John.  He's making soup this weekend and promised to bring some over.  I really like that kid!!!

Now, it's 11:00, but of course it feels like midnight so I am going to bed.  So exhausted!
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My Maggie.  I think it is so precious how she sits on her bottom and puts her paws up on the window sill and watches the show outside.  Tonight it was her turn to take a nap on Mommy's recliner.

Clock Says 7:00am. Body Says 8:00am.

I don't care which clock time we use, I just wish they'd leave it at either DST or EST and not change it!  I can remember when it came to a vote here in Michigan it was voted down.  Congress put it through anyway.  And NO--it was not put through for the farmers--they hated the time changes.  It was pressure from the UAW--at least in this state.  The day shift workers wanted more daylight in the spring and summer, after they got off work.
=================================

I thought of something last night, as I was falling asleep.  The day before my best friend died, right after I left the Hospice unit of the hospital, she told her daughter (Pam's age), "Keep an eye on Aunt Judy.  Make sure she is okay.  This is going to hit her hard."

Now--that's strange.  She knew of my penchant for not crying at funerals.  We had talked about it and she thought I was weird.  "You should mourn--right then.  Get it out and it will be easier to get over."  She knew this because she was there when my Mother died and I didn't cry at all and then, six weeks later I had a near breakdown.  I was with her a few years later when her Mother died, and Arlene bawled her eyes out, but seemed to recover quicker.

I don't know why.  I guess it was the way we were raised--my sister doesn't cry at funerals either--even when it was her own young son.  We cry in private, but never in public.  Something told to us when we were little about how the person has gone on to Heaven and if we cry, it means we are selfish for wanting to keep them here in pain and sickness.  Something like that.

I remember seeing my mother cry at her mother's grave side and I wondered what was wrong with her.  Why was she carrying on like that?  She never cried!

I didn't cry during Arlene's visitation or funeral either.  Comforting her children and I didn't want them to break down.  I went with Bethie, we sat together and walked out together.  I got to the casket, one more time, and I felt like I had been hit with a thunderbolt.  I broke down completely.  Couldn't walk.  Shaking, thought I was going to faint and remember being so embarrassed.  Thankfully, Arlene's little brother came over and helped me out to the foyer of the church or I would have fallen on the floor in a heap.

I drove out to the cemetery in the funeral procession, beeped my horn, as I always had, when we passed by her house.  I was perfectly fine.  Up close to the grave site.  Then it was over. People were moving away to go back to the church for the luncheon.

It hit me again.  I didn't want to leave her.  I wanted to open up the casket, shake her and tell her to wake up and come on.  I don't think I was even in my right mind.  I do remember knowing that I had to get up to the casket so I could touch it.  I hadn't had my second hip surgery and I could barely walk.  I remember that my cane kept sinking into the ground and I kind of stumbled to the casket and bent down and whispered to her and kissed the casket.

All this emotional display was so out of character for me.  People must have thought I was crazed.  I'm sure I embarrassed them. I know I embarrassed myself.  People perceive me to always be in control, tall and strong and comforting and there I was, being an obscene mess!  It was almost like I stood watching the woman, who looked like me, move about the scene.

I don't remember the rest of the day.  I did drive back to town and to the luncheon and I must have talked to people and I did drive all the way home, but for the life of me, the next day I didn't remember any of that part.

Weird.
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74 degrees here on this lovely Indian Summer day.  I got my leaves all taken up and my lawn's last mowing.  

Then a nice walk and visited Pearl.
Laundry all done.

A troubling phone call from Pammie.  Tomorrow is her last day working for Jennifer.  She's been doing that job for a decade.  Jen put Evan in Montessori School three days a week.  Husband is still not working, so he can hold down the fort.  They don't need Pammie anymore. (They can't afford Pammie anymore).

She does have an interview at the Brighton Meijer's store tomorrow.  The same one where Dar works.  I will NOT tell Dar.

All Saints Day

I am probably the only one in this group that is not a fan of Halloween!  Not only am I not a fan, I truly dislike it.

Of course, my neighbors the Wiccans, say they love it--were even married on Halloween--in a cemetery no less--2 years ago.  What I have noticed, their porch light is NEVER on, Halloween evening/night.  They love Halloween, but they don't like little Trick or Treaters?

This neighbor, I will call her Tami, because she insists everyone call her Tamara, has started proudly wearing a Pentagram necklace.  She is now on Face Book, ranting and raving and complaining that her supervisor and people at work who used to like her, don't seem to like her as much and treat her differently because of the necklace.

She is one of those people that, when she gets something into her head, especially something controversial, she makes a HUGE deal about it.  Shoves it in people's faces.  Preaches at them about her new belief system or her new enlightenment or--whatever.  I remember three years ago when she was going to the Seventh Day Adventist church, she informed me that I was going to church on the wrong day.  That everyone knew that God said to rest on the seventh day--to keep the Sabbath day holy.

She is also the kind of person who firmly states that she doesn't care what anyone thinks about or says about her.  So, I asked, "Why does this bother you?"

"Because they were nice to me and now they're not!  This necklace doesn't define who I am."

"Sure it does.  Perception is everything.  People will perceive the kind of person you are by what you wear, how clean you are, the way you talk.  You have a blue cast on your arm with a big yellow M.  People see that and know you are a Michigan fan.  If you wear a message T-shirt from the Humane Society, they know you like animals.  You wear a Pentagram necklace, and they know you are a witch."

"Well, I'd just like to explain to her what being a Wiccan means."

"Why?"

"So she would understand."

"She doesn't want to understand,  She isn't interested...any more than you are when your Baptist brother tells you that you are a pagan heathen and going to Hell."

"I don't like being judged."

"You said you didn't care what they thought or said about you."

"But---it just isn't right!"

"Reality check, Tami.  Correct or not--right or wrong--such is life.  She probably thinks you boil frogs in a cauldron.  You wear the necklace because you want people to ask what it is so you can promote your new belief.  If you don't like their perception, then don't wear the necklace.  If you don't care what they think, then wear it and go along with your life.  Or wear a cross necklace with it and really confuse them."
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I like today better.  All Saints Day.  A day of prayer for all the Saints who are in Heaven.  Not to be confused with All Soul's Day (tomorrow) a day of prayer for those who have died and not yet reached Heaven.  I suppose those would be the souls in Purgatory?

Actually, I know very little about any of this and I don't believe in Purgatory and I don't pray for people who have died.  I always thought you had your choice to make before your last breath and no amount of people praying afterwards was going to change that.

I guess I would instead prefer to think of all the people I know who have died in the last year and pray for their families to find comfort and peace.

Hm-mm, perhaps I have just invented a new religious day?  What can I call it?
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I decided that instead of crocheting or knitting on Chris' projects today, I would cross stitch--and I did, for about half an hour.  I guess I just can't stay away from the knitting and crochet!!

I also worked on printing out more pages for my genealogy book--it appears now my sister and her son would like one, so that means 7 instead of the 5.  The special paper I use from Staples is very costly--39.99 for a box of 150 sheets.  I know that at one time I only paid $20.00 and I told the people at Staples, but they said that wasn't the correct price.  So today, I just happened to be on-line at Staples and guess what?  $20.00 a box through November 14th.  I ordered two boxes and am quite proud of myself.  Why did I go look on-line?  I have no idea.  Just messing around and there it was.  Obviously a God Whisper!!
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Today is also my best friend Arlene's birthday.  She would have been 76 today--gone 3.5 years.  It's difficult for me to describe our relationship.  We met on the first day of Kindergarten.  Close, like a sister?  Nope.  Closer than that.  It's like she was part of me--she knew what I was going to say before I said it.  Soul Mate?  I guess.   That's why, since she died, I just can't get over the emptiness I feel.  It's like I am missing part of myself.  A chunk of my heart or a limb or---something.  Truth be told, I think of her more often than I do Fred--or my Mother--or my grandma.  I keep feeling like if I just wait a tiny bit more, she will call on the phone or I will see her driving up to my house.

(My goodness.  I sure was fat three years ago.  Look at my chubby face!  That was the day before she died.)

Cold, Rainy Day.

I decided, after having the ingredients for two weeks, I oughta make these today.

Put them in bigger muffin tin so I could use a whole pineapple slice and a whole cherry

Too much work!  Easier just to make the upside down cake in a pan.

But it IS tasty!!

Now, I'm going back to sitting in my chair, crocheting and knitting!