Weekend Workout, 30 April 2012

Today was a recovery day from a full and emotional weekend.

Thursday:
Involved a packed day of preparing for the weekend, while blowing my nose regularly, telling myself I had allergies.

Friday morning:
Started at 6:15 a.m. with bacon and eggs for my sister Em who had been driving all night, immediately after which we drove for 2.5 hours to the home of my aunt and uncle, where I made more preparations for the evening's festivities.

Friday evening:
My sister Clare, her husband Bernie, and my favorite nephew arrived and we put on an evening bridal shower for Em, who's getting married this summer.  The shower was lovely!  I spent the night at my aunt's home.

Saturday morning:
Began with a delicious, leisurely breakfast she and my uncle prepared for me and Clare's little family (not at 6:15 a.m.).  Then I had the joy of watching lots and lots of precious smiles from my nephew (it killed me that I couldn't hold him due to potential germs), followed by a laughter-filled lunch at my dad's house with Jay, Clare et al, Em and fiance, my sister Essie (recently returned from a stay abroad) and my dad's bride-to-be.

Saturday evening:
The group of us migrated to yet another relative's beautiful home and celebrated the anniversary of my mom's sister having been on the mission field for 20 years.  A very meaningful time.

Then things finally started slowing down as Jay and I left the anniversary gathering. I took him just up the road to see my mom's grave site.  Walking up to the spot, it was interesting to observe that I expected to feel a sense of comfort, like, "This is somewhere I can be with Mom," but once at the site, it was just so clear that she wasn't there.  Of course, I'm glad that her soul isn't buried in a pile of dust underground, but it would have been nice to feel like I was standing with her, you know?  On the long drive home, I cried with the ache of missing Mom.  Going through so many family events without her hurt so much.

Having been away from the kids all weekend, Jay and I took them out to breakfast at McDonald's on Sunday morning.  A few elderly people at a nearby table enjoyed watching the antics of the kids as we refereed them during the meal.  (No, you can't climb up on the counter; this isn't a play place.  You asked for a sandwich--too late to change your mind.  Yes, this is your drink.  You're so cute!  Yes, you get the same amount as G.  Don't drop your straw!  I love you.)  Jay smiled and quipped to our amused audience, “Breakfast theater! They are the show!” as he waved a hand over the kids.

We went to church afterward, and I kept trying to figure out why I had so much hesitation in registering for an upcoming annual women's lunch.  After the service, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I just can't stand to go this year because the last two years in a row I sat next to Jay's mom.  Plus, it's being held the day before Mother's Day, which feels very lonely this year.  Tears leaked out from under my sunglasses while I stood in the arms of a friend.

Jay made lunch for us and I got a good nap--sooo needed!  After naptime the four of us headed out to my father-in-law's house for dinner and to meet one of his friends.  It's really fun watching my FIL cook.  :-)  But I really missed seeing my MIL in the kitchen.  Heavy sigh.

Then home to bed for the night, which brings us back to today and its helpful normalness.  Doing school with G wasn’t too bad (we even got to do a little science experiment).  Then off to the park!

A few buckets of sand and four grubby hands later, two little squealing boys got hosed off in the backyard when we got home.  After naps Daddy got home and took them to the pool while I took a walk with a friend and had a good sharing/praying and time with her.  Dinner tonight was centered around peas and green onions from our garden; we had our weekly family prayer time; pjs and stories for the kids; time with Jay; and time to myself.

The last few days certainly have been chock-full.  Writing this post has been tricky for me because I've struggled with which details to include--or more accurately, which not to include.  The reason I've written so much is simply because This is what happened.  This last weekend and today are equally parts of my life.  Tomorrow is part of my life too, and since I'm less than two hours away from it, this is a good place to end today's story.  Tomorrow will have its own!

Peas in a Pod

I grew these!  Yay!!

Hats, 21 April 2012

Today was a day of wearing many "hats."  Just for fun, I'm going to make a list.

Cherished Wife
The day started last night, with Jay taking the kids to spend the night and this morning at his dad's house.  I had hours of coveted alone time (I may have eaten two croissants on the couch in front of the TV, and one of them may have contained vanilla ice cream and hot fudge sauce), so I woke up late and stayed in bed even longer.

Wedding Coordinator
From the comfort of my bed (no children to get up for), I made phone calls and arrangements pertaining to my sister's upcoming wedding.

Sister
Sent birthday greetings to another sister!

Auntie
Listened to adorable noises from my little nephew over the phone...and cooed right back at him.

Farmer Girl
Once I got up, I donned outdoor gear and shoveled rabbit manure from their "run" enclosure to the compost pile.  Then I mowed both the back and front lawns and fed the rabbits.  (Doesn't do much good to scoop poop if you don't feed the critters.)  I also measured the largest pea pod growing on my vines.  It's at 2.5 inches, so tomorrow it may be at the required 3 inches, and we'll eat it!

Good Neighbor
After mowing my lawns, I wheeled the machine across the street and mowed my neighbor's lawn.  We have a good deal going; I mow his lawn, and in return he pays house calls and cuts our hair for us at a discounted price.  Pretty sweet!

Housekeeper
Emptied and loaded the dishwasher.  My kitchen smells better now.

Organizational Expert
Consulted with Jay about reorganizing the garage; he was the driving force, but I did contribute.

Mommy
Played games, read books, raced with, planted a corn seedling--yes, just one; a school project--and bathed two darling little boys.

Supportive Wife
Listened to Jay relate some health research discoveries he's made.

Party Planner
Compiled recipes and grocery lists for two parties I'm co-hosting next week.

Chef
Executed dinner for four tonight.  (Greek yogurt with fruit toppings--hey, that Greek stuff has tons of protein.)

Friend
Commented here and there on Facebook posts.

Creative Artist
Wrote in my blog!

Shameless Crime Show Fan
Watched an episode or-so of one of our favorite shows with Jay.

In conclusion, sometimes I feel a little like Bartholomew Cubbins of the charming Dr. Seuss story, but today was actually a peaceful, good-feeling day.  What can I say?  I look good in hats.  :-)

One More Sweet

One of my dear friends from college gave me more than a lifelong friendship--she gave me her pancake recipe.  This is not and will not be a food blog, but today I made her recipe again and am continually amazed at how superior these pancakes are to any others I've had.

It would be selfish not to share it with you.

Wheat Buttermilk Pancakes

Mix:
1 c. buttermilk [or make sour milk by pouring 1 T.  of white vinegar into a 1-cup measure and filling the rest of the way with milk]
2 T. vegetable oil
1 egg
1/2 T. [1 1/2 teas.] sugar

Add and mix until moistened:
1 c. wheat flour [actually, her recipe calls for 3/4 c. wheat and 1/4 c. white; it's good both ways]
1 teas. baking powder
1/2 teas. baking soda
1/2 teas. salt

Cook on medium-hot griddle or pan.  Serves two moderately hungry adults [or, as I've found, 1 moderately hungry adult and two hungry little boys].

Sprinkling fresh or frozen blueberries over the cakes after they're poured on the griddle is yum too.

While we're at it, I'll give you non-purists the cheap-cheat-maple-syrup recipe from my mom (beats the pants off of any fake syrups from the store).

Microwave Maple Syrup

In a microwave-safe bowl, combine 1 c. packed brown sugar, 1 c. white sugar, 1 c. water, 1/2 teas. maple flavoring, and 1/4 teas. vanilla flavoring.  Microwave at 100% power until boiling, stirring occasionally, and then cook at 50% power until moderately thickened.  Store leftovers in a jar in the fridge.

Mmm.  Only 10 more hours until breakfast...

Sweet and Sour, 18 April 2012

Today I'll start with the sour.

I lost one of my mom's rings.  That may not sound terribly significant, but it is to me.  The little gold band that I saw her wear all my life had been a gift from my dad before I was born.  He bought it for her on a bridge over the Arno River in Florence, Italy, when they were newlyweds.  Although it was not monetarily valuable, it was my favorite piece of her jewelry, and my first pick when my sisters and I were going through her jewelry box two years ago.

Yes, I've looked everywhere it could be.  Best guess is that it ended up in my trashcan a few weeks ago, scooped in with a pile of dried-out tissues.  I've had many tears and feelings of guilt today.  The ring is just a thing, yes, but it was a piece of my mom for me, and now I've lost it.

:-(

Now, a rapid change of gears to the sweet.

I have a pea!!!  Here it is:

I did not use professional photography equipment.

This is my very first garden, and this is my very first pea pod!  It's a sugar snap pea variety, so no shelling involved.  Can't wait to crunch into the cute little thing.  Dear me, that sounded a little psycho.

The last "sweet" thing I'll mention from today has to do with G's reading.  Due to my cantankerous canker sore, I had to break the bad news to the kids that I wouldn't be able to read to them before bed tonight.  Jay had already left for a rehearsal, so that left just one reader in the house.  After initially balking at the idea, G gave in and Z ran to find a couple books. (I directed him to some easy readers.)  We all cuddled up on the floor as usual and G read our stories.  After the second book he said, "I want to read another one!"  After the third book he said, "I want to read another one!"  I did cut it off at three books, but this all makes me very happy.  I like books.  I think I get it from my mom, who had shelves and shelves--built by my dad--of books.

That's one thing from her I know I won't lose.  :-)

Boo-boos, Babies, and Big Boys, 17 April 2012

Today was a day of small-scale redemptions given by a large-scale Caretaker.

A "redemption," as I'm using the word, means a saving from something bad or a turning something bad into something good.

Today's redemptions started with a canker sore.  My canker sore.  I'll try not to be graphic, but imagine a canker sore.  Now imagine your tongue.  Now imagine your back molars.  Now imagine doing ANYTHING with your mouth.  And there you have it.

I woke up feeling pretty upset that I needed to go through my day basically without talking.  But having to be as taciturn as possible led to some wonderfully-unexpected things.

The first was the discovery that 5-year old G can successfully read silently!  I felt so much freedom in being able to write little notes for him and having him relay them to his brother.  At first, he would read them aloud, but then I noticed that he looked at the page, and then looked at me and nodded.  I wrote out another question for him to "check for understanding" (Jay's educator lingo has rubbed off on me), and sure enough, he had comprehended it all without sounding it out!

There's one little redemptive moment.

Another canker sore redemption came in the form of being able to spend two hours planning two parties with my sister.  How, you ask?  Google chat.  And how was I able to spend that time sitting at the computer without constantly refereeing my kids?  Well, since they knew I had a big owie, they pretty much entertained themselves and left me alone.  If I had been healthy and talking on the phone, rather than on chat, they would have been vying for my attention.

Redemption numero dos!

Leaving the canker sore aside for the moment, let's move on to Bermuda grass.  Many people may think of sand when they hear Bermuda, but I think of grass.  And want to scream.

For anyone who doesn't know, Bermuda grass is virtually indestructible, and as it turns out, it doesn't compost.  Its little broken-up stems stay dry and brown for 6 months, get put into your brand new garden, and then come back to life.  And spread.  Oh yes.

My big goal for today--after party planning--was to get the last of my seeds and my little baby plants into the garden.  But when I got outside, I realized I was going to have to pull weeds first.  As the sun beat on my neck, my hands grew muddied, and my knees creaked, I had the urge to curse the curse of weeds.

And then followed the first Bermuda redemption.  G observed me struggling on my hands and knees and asked, "Mommy, if God made weeds because the first people did bad things, how come we have to have weeds too?"  In as few words as possible, I explained that every single person who came after has done bad things too, except One.  Weeding leading to spiritual conversations?  I'd call that redemptive.

But turning the weed time drain into something good didn't end there.  Now, I had planned to come outside, dig a few holes to transplant my seedlings, pop a few seeds in the ground, and call it good--all before lunchtime, of course.  But after an hour of the Battle of Bermuda, the boys wanted lunch.  And I wanted to keep working.  And then came the discovery that my Baby G is now Big Boy G.  For the first time ever, he fixed lunch himself!  Following my instructions, he served cold hot dogs with ketchup and whole apples.  Not the most glam meal ever, but both boys ate without me stepping foot in the house.  Yes!

Canker sores and Bermuda grass can both be physically and emotionally sapping, but in the grand scheme of things, they're pretty minor.  There is a much less minor "owie" in my heart, and tonight I spent time wrapped in Jay's arms, crying and missing my mom-in-law.  It's hard to imagine anything good for us coming of her death.  But if my Redeemer cares about the little things enough to transform them, I believe He can transform these big hurts too.  I don't know how, but I know He can.  And today, that's enough for me.

Happy-List, 15 April 2012

Today is a good day to make a list of happy things.  In no particular order:

1. I <3 NCIS (and don't you dare spoil anything about the plot, because Jay and I just finished season 5).

2. Jay is a wonderful husband!  He spent today's weekend time doing dishes, replacing light bulbs, installing new printer cartridges, emptying trashes, giving me hugs, teaching a group of preschoolers and kindergartners in Sunday School, supervising our kids while I took a nap...

Ooo, good transition here.  I love:

3. Sunday afternoon naps.  Love the soft, warm sheets; the sound of some poor soul's lawnmower (bet they wish they were napping); the tweety-tweet of birds; the unscheduled space of the evening.

4. My kids' friendly spirits in inviting the 3-yr old neighbor boy to play with them and stay for dinner.

5. Being a loving presence to our neighbors.

6. Feeding ducks two blocks away with my kids.

7. My sisters and my brother and while we're at it my dad and his future wife and my father-in-law and Jay's siblings and my siblings' spouses (or "spice" as I prefer) and my nephew.

Other happy things today:

8. Our two rabbits are so cute.

9. A mallard couple likes to nap and hunt snails in our front yard.

10. I have friends who give me hugs, both real and virtual (the hugs, that is; all my friends are real!  That I know of).

11. The sugar snap pea vines in my first-ever garden are blooming.

12. I turned pre-packaged broccoli slaw into stir-fry and my family inhaled it.

There's a pretty happy list.  I may just come back and read it again tomorrow.  Good night!

Yellow It Is!

Here's the dress that won the bridesmaid contest!  And NO, that is not me wearing it.  Credit goes to the model on the David's Bridal website.

Realities, 13 April 2012

Here's a rundown of reality from today.

Was awake from 3-5 a.m. for no good reason, but the kids slept all the way until 8:00, so that was wonderful!

Got up slowly and made zucchini muffins (for a cute story about that, look at today's date on the Kid Stories page).

Did some dishes and a little worksheet-homeschooling and watched two other little boys during a friend's doctor appointment.

Took a walk with said boys and said friend, fed everyone lunch (leftovers are tasty and easy), then gave my friend the rest of the afternoon off.  She has a newborn and needed it, and the four boys were having a blast.

Folded some laundry, read a book to the kids, and took a little nap (the two littlest boys did too).

Fed everyone a snack and built a Duplo city together on the living room floor.  Had to put out a couple fires (figuratively) when the 2.5 year old and the 3.5 year old were squabbling over who got to be fireman and knock the plastic fire piece down with the plastic axe, but all was resolved amicably.

Handed the four boys over to their respective daddies, did a couple quick errands, and went to dinner with some gal friends.

Came home, put on pjs, cuddled up with my computer, had a phone conversation or two, and got read for bed.

And,  off-and-on all day, felt sadness remembering that today is my mother-in-law's birthday, and it's the first one she hasn't been on earth for.  "Firsts" are no fun.  I also saw an advertisement for some Mother's Day something and immediately felt sick in the pit of my stomach.  But Mother's Day isn't today, so I'm not going to fret over it now.

Today was a day of missing a mom who's not here with us, and a day of helping a mom who is here, and a day of enjoying being a mom myself.  And that's all part of my reality!

Bridesmaid Dresses, 10 April 2012

Today has been a weird day.  No, nothing weird happened--no meteors falling on my head or kids swallowing pennies--but I've felt weird inside.  And really, really tired.  Like, how-am-I-going-get-out-of-bed tired.

Usually, when I feel that fatigued it's because I'm grieving something.  And given that this is two days after the anniversary of my mom's death, I suppose that's likely.  But I think there's more to it than having passed that date: I think it's bridesmaid dresses.

Okay, it's not like I looked at a bridesmaid dress today and started bawling (although I'm sure some poor females have done that, well-intentioned brides notwithstanding).  But I've spent a good portion of the last two days looking at dresses on behalf of my engaged sister, and I've felt increasingly sadder and sadder.

What's that all about?  It's a dress for someone else's wedding; who really cares if I like the design or the price or the color.  Something tells me there's more going on here.  And we come back to...wait for it...missing Mom.

If Mom were here, I suspect I would not take so much responsibility for finding bridesmaid dresses.  I suspect I wouldn't be helping my sister budget for her wedding.  I suspect I'd giggle with her a little more and advise her a little less.  I suspect my sister would come to me upset about Mom's opinion, and I'd be finding a way to talk Mom out of it, rather than me sitting down and telling my sister, "Well, here's what Mom would say."

If Mom were here, I wouldn't be confused about whether I'm a sister or my sister's mother.  I'm not her mother.  But I'm not a giggling sister either.  So what am I?

And that, dear friend, is a weird question to ask and an even weirder one to try and answer.


(Meanwhile, do stay tuned as to whether the bridesmaid dresses end up being yellow or green or purple.)

Resurrection Sunday, 08 April 2012

Today, my kitchen smells like Easter.  The heady fragrance of a single pink jasmine stem in a vase, plus the watery smell of shelled, hard-boiled eggs are scents of Easter to me.  Growing up, Mom and Dad usually referred to Easter Sunday as "Resurrection Sunday."  The sun was virtually always shining that day, and the yard was perfumed with lilac, sweet pea, and pink jasmine.  After church and a family meal during the first half of the day, in the afternoon we'd hunt hand-decorated eggs and sit on the lawn to eat them, accompanying our simple picnic with a selection of homemade once-a-year cookies.

As a mom myself now, I've carried on some of those traditions.  We decorated eggs last night; we dressed up for church this morning; we had a big family lunch around my table; and we hunted eggs this afternoon.  (G and Z only wanted to do two rounds of hiding because they were so excited to shell the eggs and dig in!)

There were some new elements today, too.  Today was my ADORABLE nephew's first Easter, and he's just learning to zero-in on people's faces, so Auntie Rachel spent a good deal of time staring and making goo-goo noises at him.  This is the first year the boys have hunted eggs in the backyard of our new house, so Jay and I had fun discovering good hiding places.

Today has been a very special day.  But it's a sad day for me, too.  Two years ago on this date, my Mom had her own resurrection--the resurrection of her spirit to be with Jesus.  But that day was not a celebration for us, as we wept in the hospital corridors and clung to each other in grief.  And you know what?  I miss Mom.  Today I wondered what she would think of the solo I sang in church, and if she would have liked the way I roasted the chicken.  I wanted to hear her beckon one of my kids with an excited voice, helping them find a hiding egg.  She would have rolled her eyes at Jay's puns and cleared her throat with mock nervousness listening to my brother's harrowing work stories.  And oh, wouldn't she have loved cooing at her newest grandson, tickling him and making clicking noises with her tongue.

Today we are missing Jay's mom, too.  This is our first Easter since she walked into Jesus' arms.  Last year, she delightedly ate the meal I prepared and giggled with glee watching the little boys wander through the yard finding their eggs.  It's inconceivable to me, really, that she wasn't here this year.  She would have been here.  She should have been here.

So here is a whole Easter basket-full of feelings--joy, sadness, thankfulness, hope, grief, confusion, delight, satisfaction, and I'm sure many others that haven't been named.  But tonight, as I enjoy the perfume of my pink jasmine stem, I think I'm going to end this day looking at Hope:  Jesus has conquered death, He is alive, He has given me a life worth living, and I am going to see Him when it's my turn for a resurrection.

He is risen!  He is risen indeed.

A Happy Day, 04 April 2012

Today was a good day, meaning "good" in the colloquial sense of "happy."  For a sneak preview, check out the labels for this post.  Aren't those happy words?

G and I got through our school worksheets with less tongue-biting (mine) than usual; I pulled weeds from the garden (so satisfying!); we had friends join us for lunch (and I got grown-up conversation time); I listened to some Holy Week Scripture; took a two-hour nap; Jay and I cooked dinner together and the four of us had a wonderful, leisurely time at the table; we had a music rehearsal in my living room; Jay and I did a crossword together (we both contributed, which makes me feel good); and now Jay is happily rapping in our music room.  Yes, I did say rapping.  You'll get to know him more as the blog continues.

Now doesn't that sound nice?  And tomorrow, we have a visit to the library and the children's museum with more friends.

It is good to have days like today.

Unexpected Conversations, 03 April 2012

First off, this charming conversation during today's breakfast:

R: G, you just poured too much syrup.
G: Okay, okay, I won't do it again.
Z: Yes you will.
G: No I won't.
Z: Yes you will.
G: No I won't.
R: Guys, let's not argue.
G: I'm not arguing.
R: Well, Z is.
Z: No I'm not.

And Rachel bursts into muffled laughter.

That kind of conversation is typical of the "expected" part of my life (although I admit to not realizing flat-out arguments started in the oh-so young).   The conversation that ended our day today comes out of the "unexpected" part of my life.  And this isn't a joke: Brace yourselves.

Tonight's bedtime conversation was about how my children's uncle killed their Nana.  They knew Nana had died, and they knew Uncle D was a bad guy now and was in jail, but the connection between the two was something I hoped they wouldn't need to make until about a decade from now.

But they had a lot of questions that, left unanswered, would cause fear and anxiousness on their parts, so I thought it best to be honest.  Besides, three-year old Z made the connection--complete with guessing the murder weapon--before I said anything.  Children feel out so much while we grownups blissfully assume they're not paying attention.

I think I won't recount the details of the conversation here (that was done in a private email to family and teachers), but I will say that we ended up with a beautiful conversation that included death, Heaven, cremation, Jesus, treasure in Heaven, anger, and prison.  Not that all of those subjects are beautiful, but cuddling on the bed with my two sons pressed up against me, listening to their honest questions, and giving honest answers--that is a beautiful part of being a mother to these children.

They have so much more to process in their little minds and hearts than so many other children their age, but they also have hearts that are just full of love.  And I love them so dearly.

Normal, 02 April 2012

Today was mostly a normal day, thank goodness.

Now that's actually a complex statement, because when I say "normal," I mean "nothing unexpected happened," and when I say "thank goodness," I mean, "Thank You, Lord, for giving us some space to breathe."

That said, my physical breathing was technically a bit impeded this afternoon during my pollen-pungent walk.  And my head ached afterward, and the ache has since increased.  Oh dear, this is quickly becoming a blog about headaches.  What a bore.

In the spirit of full disclosure, the headache (yes, I'm still talking about it) got quite a bit worse after a discussion with one sister about another sister's upcoming wedding.  And then it got worse again reading some messages about other family members' memories of losing my mom this week two years ago.  (Maybe I'll come back and rewrite that sentence when my head quits throbbing.)

So now would probably be a good time to use the "Stop" technique.  Let's try it.

I'M FEELING STRESSED AND ANXIOUS AND RUSHED AND SAD AND I HAVE TO CONTROL EVERYTHING--STOP.  It is almost 9 p.m. on a Monday evening and I have done everything I can do today.  No one in my immediate life is getting married or dying at this moment, and my house is quiet and peaceful, and there's nothing else to figure out right now.

And on that note, goodnight!

P.S. Actually, something unexpected did happen today, but it was good-unexpected, not bad.  My little G went to his dentist appointment and it was discovered that he has two loose teeth!  When did my baby grow up enough to have loose teeth?  He was so excited and could hardly wait to tell Daddy about it.  He hasn't been wiggling them incessantly--unlike his Auntie A when she was a little girl--but he certainly bit into his apple with unabated gusto.  The dentist did mention that braces are certainly in G's future, but that's a tomorrow subject, not a today decision.

And so, I officially end this post with the image of G's ecstatic, I'm-so-grown-up-now smile, and the pleasure that comes with being the mom of a beautiful, growing boy.

Pass a Tissue

Since this is my blog and I make the rules, I hereby declare that it is not excessive to have three posts in the same day.

Tonight I was able to "throw up" alongside my friends (see my previous post).  I cried good and hard, and now I have that watery, wobbly feeling I get after vomiting into a toilet bowl, but it is accompanied by a huge sense of relief.  Those tears were a long time in coming.  Other metaphors I could use are a dam breaking or a pimple popping, but those are cliche and gross, respectively.  Not that the throwing up metaphor isn't gross.

Speaking of gross, Jay informed me that while I was gone this evening he had a snack of pork rinds and cheese whiz.  I may just have to throw up for real now.

Sheep May Safely Graze

And here's a picture that makes me happy.  This may or may not be in New Zealand, and you may or may not be jealous you weren't there.  I may or may not wish I was there right now.  But I'm in today, and today I'm here, safe in the fields my Shepherd has placed me.

Headache Day Two, 01 April 2012

Today is day two of my headache.  I do think this is the first time I've had such a strong-willed grief headache.  And in just a few minutes I'll be recounting the grisly details of what I heard this week to two of my rather-selfless friends (who hopefully have rather-strong stomachs).

Although I usually process best by writing, I haven't been able to write down all the horrible implications of what the coroner said.  I just can't bring myself to see the words, I guess.  And actually, I'm realizing that my headache is intensifying just anticipating this evening's conversation.  Maybe it can be like throwing up: 100% miserable during the act, but gaining a feeling relief afterward. I hope so, at least.

On a more every-day note, I cooked dinner tonight!  It's been a long time since the days when I was shocked at hearing a co-worker mention they ate fast-food three times a week, and when I was beaproned in the kitchen every afternoon.  Jay's no-carb diet has truthfully taken away a good deal of my motivation to cook, since I rely a little too heavily on positive affirmation (aka, "Oh honey, this is sooooo good") to get through tedious tasks.  Then again, I suppose most of us do.

But back to today, in spite of this headache I cooked!  With green onions from my garden (yay!) I did chicken with sauteed edamame, eliciting a throaty, "Oh, this is sumptuous," from my happy husband.  Score.  Plus, the chicken sauce had lots of butter in it, so I was happy too.

Now I just need a warm, flaky croissant filled with almond paste, and life might feel a little butter, er, better.  Or, instead of complicating my emotions further with calorie guilt, maybe I could just imagine the croissant.

And then I could go eat a Thin Mint.