life situations

it is what it is

A Reveal Party

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Yeah, I know.  The title of this blog sounds like a party that could be a little wild… and it probably does get wild.  I’ve never been to one, but since I love new experiences, I would love to be invited to one.

P-A-R-T-A-Y

There is nothing like a good party.  If you’re the hostess, then it gets you all pumped up to clean house and cook.  If you’re the invitee, then it gets you all pumped up to look good and get out. 

This Reveal Party is just too neat.  Angel (she blogs Chronicles of a Rocket Surgeon) (click on her link to the right) was surprised with the great news that she is pregnant!  A big surprise to her and hubby.  So instead of finding out whether it is a girl or boy when they went to get the sonogram, they had the technician seal the pics in an envelope.  Angel then took the envelope to her friend who helped with the Reveal Party by taking it to a florist.  At the party, when Angel opened up the big box

Reveal Party box

out came these:

It's a girl!!

What fun!!  I can’t wait to be invited to one of these!  Hopefully, someone I know will be able to get that sonogram without peeking and then have a Reveal Party.

 

September 11, 2001

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Doug Kanter picture of man standing amid rubble of World Trade Center

Yahoo has an article called “The 25 Most Powerful Photos.”  Life.com has compiled photos and stories of the events of 9/11.  Please try to find time in your busy day to look at these photos and reflect back on that day in our not-too-distant history.  They are powerful, and I have cried once again remembering that day.  My heart is broken once again for those people on the airplanes and in the buildings and for New York City.  My heart is heavy for the families and friends and co-workers left behind.  My amazement and awe of the first responders who willing risked and gave their lives to bolt into the danger is staggering: what heroes, true heroes.

The morning of September 11, 2001, was a day I worked in Carmi.  As I was driving along the road, the news of what was occurring came across the radio.  My mind just couldn’t comprehend the words; it couldn’t be true.  As soon as I arrived in town, I ran into the courthouse to see if the radio was wrong; surely it was wrong!  All morning we stood and watched a small television in the courtroom.  No one could think; we were numb.

That night, sitting on the couch, I watched the news and cried and cried and cried.  I still cry when I think of that day.  I am still amazed when I recall those heroes.

Taking Advantage of Great Opportunities

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ton crocodile

In case you didn’t get a gander at this big boy over the weekend, I thought I would let you see it.  This is a crocodile weighing 2, 370 pounds and is 21 feet long!  The big bully was seen taking down a water buffalo and is suspected of eating a local fisherman that has been missing since July.  It was captured in a village of about 37,000 people (sounds like a city to me) in the Phillipines.  The people are planning to make it the star of an ecotourism park (“tourism to exotic or threatened ecosystems to observe wildlife or to help preserve nature” as defined by the Princeton University).

Even though they captured Lolong, as it has been named, there is still another even bigger one still out in the marsh around the village, and the people have been told not to go into the marshes at night.  Uh, hello?  I don’t think you need to tell me that.  As a matter of fact, I think I would just as soon die of dehydration as venture into the jaws of something like this.

largest reptile: saltwater crocodile

Back in 2005 another big croc was captured in Uganda.  It had dined on about 83 of the local people over two decades: fisherman and villagers getting water.  The dining place of this particular croc was dubbed “Butcher.”  Crocodiles don’t chew their food, so the victim is chomped and swallowed, chomped and swallowed…

And here is where the great opportunities comes into play.  Those crocs may look like lazy buggers with nothing more to do than lollygag in the water, but, in fact, are great opportunists.

potential food

Waiting in the marsh to eat a fishermanfood delicacy sounds like it might be worth the wait.  Let the food come to you.

For the lucky people that do capture those huge, ton man-eaters, there are all kinds of opportunities awaiting them.  The ecosystem park for starters.  Can you imagine how many people could be fed with a haul that big at some fancy-shmancy restaurant that serves up delicacies such as Curried Crocodile?  Or how about this recipe?

Crocodile Recipe

Crocodile with mango & basil sauce

300g crocodile meat, cut into thin slices
30g peanut oil
20g basil leaves
20g parsley
5g garlic, chopped
20ml white wine vinegar
200ml olive oil
1 mango, stone removed and peeled
salt & pepper to taste

Heat peanut oil in a frying pan, saute seasoned crocodile pieces for about three minutes then set aside and keep warm. Blend basil, garlic, parsley, vinegar and olive oil in a food processor until smooth, set aside. Slice mango thinly and arrange on plate. Place crocodile slices in the centre, drizzle basil sauce around the plate and garnish with fresh herbs.

Personally, I think they should make Lolong into some nice boots or purses or belts or whatever else crocodile skin is used to make.  Those things would last a long, long time and make the villagers some good money as well.

mens black crocodile boots

light brown crocodile purse

Great opportunities come in all size of packages to give us all kinds of ideas.  Mine came in a small computer monitor with a picture of a big ol’ croc.

A Night With An Insomniac

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Tonight is another sleep-disrupted night.

eyes wide open

I can’t decide if that’s any better than a completely sleepless night or not.  Since the chocolate ice cream is all gone, I decided to come in the office and tell you guys about insomnia instead.  A sort of walk-in-my-shoes type blog.

The evening starts out okay.  I’m all tired out, ready for bed, thinking tonight I will really get right to sleep.  (I have a lot of restless nights, so always happy when I think a good, restful evening is around the bend.)  My eyes are all droopy; I’m barely dragging.  Yippee!  Bring on the soft bed with the cool, clean sheets.

What time is it now?

Once in bed I squirm around and get all comfy… and that’s when it happens.  Just like my dad used to say (he had the same problem) “I go to bed, and my eyes pop open.”  No matter how tired I am, sleep eludes me.

Now, comes the I-am-not-getting-up stage which includes more tossing and turning, forcing my eyes to stay closed, and the leg moving.  My dad had that, too.  When we were staying the nights with him right before he passed away, you could hear him hitting his leg against the wall.  It’s awful!!  My body will not lie still.

insomnia

As hard as I try to lie still, within three second I have to move my legs.  Drives me nuts! (I wonder if that’s why I’m so odd? hmmm)

Next is “the-magazines-say-not-to-lie-in-bed-if-you-can’t-sleep” stage.  Okay.  So I get up and look for ice cream.  I have all kinds just for these insomnia evenings: chocolate, French vanilla, strawberry, cherry garcia, vanilla bean, drumsticks, popsicles.

ice cream

Oh, I could go on and on.  If I don’t start sleeping better soon, I’m going to have to buy new clothes!

And since it’s boring to just sit and eat ice cream, I come into the office and play games or get on Facebook or Yahoo or write a blog.  I’m not at all sure insomnia blogs make any sense because I can get really loopy on these evenings.  (Did I mention I love ice cream?)

Some nights I get to the point of exhaustion fairly quickly and actually fall asleep… only to jerk awake.  What is with that???  That is just so unfair.  Even when I do get to sleep, I wake myself up!!  Geez Louise!  Can I get a “Give the girl a break for crying out loud!”?

If all else fails — the flailing around for hours and wearing myself completely out of energy that I eventually fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning or diverting my attention away from the stress of trying to sleep by eating delicious ice cream and getting on the computer or sleeping in a different spot like the couch — then out come the big guns.  I’m talking meds.

Ambien

I’ve tried several, some prescription and some over the counter, but good old Valium works the best.  I can even break it in half (I am definitely not a heavy weight) and it will relax me just enough to fall asleep and sleep the rest of the night without jerking awake every 30 minutes.

Now, you say, then why don’t you just take one as you go to bed.  Well, I just don’t like to take meds.  I like to be as natural as possible.

counting sheep

So in the quest for natural sedatives, I’ve read all sorts of magazine articles and looked up insomnia on the internet in order to try remedies that may help without the aid of meds.

And some of them really do work.  I actually love yoga but have let it go by the wayside for the past couple of years.  It helps the body overall more than any other exercise that I’ve tried.

Yoga moves to beat insomnia

Walking is also a good boost for a good night’s sleep.  Walking in the evening seems to quiet the legs, calms the muscles somehow to let the legs actually rest.  One would think that walking of the evening would cause a person to be pumped up and ready for action instead of ready to sleep, but for those of us who suffer with insomnia, evening exercise does the opposite.

massage to relieve insomnia

 

It is always better to have someone else to give you a good massage; however, if you’re like me, you are the one and only and have to do it all yourself.  Here are a few massage techniques that have helped me on occasion, along with the big, noisy ball vibrator that weighs a ton. (This is a clean blog; get your mind out of the gutter!)  I have fallen asleep with that thing lying across my back, the roaring sound just kind of lulls me off to sleep, but it will tear my hair out and pinch like crazy if I’m not careful.  Needless to say, that only comes out of the closet if I am having a lot of muscle pain with the insomnia (which is probably why I have the insomnia on those nights.)  Sigh.

complications of insomnia

Shoot!!  I have all these symptoms!  I am soooo complicated!  Alas.

What’s the Deal with Dr. Phil?

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hot sauce mother

Jessica Beagley appears in court during her trial in Anchorage. Photo: AP

So the mom that wanted to be on the Dr. Phil show sits before a jury and is subsequently convicted of abusing her son.  As she should be.  I think part of her punishment should be a mouth full of the hottest peppers they can find for her yelling at a seven-year old the way she did.  Did I misunderstand?  This was all about pencils at school?  If it was that bad, where was the principal?  Why didn’t he step in and mete out some sort of disciplinary measure?  Perhaps writing sentences with a pencil  maybe?  We used to have to do that in school.  I can remember writing lines, and I hated doing it!

And then there’s good ol’ Dr. Phil.  Just trying his best to help out the world… by having them abuse their children on video and then making a big profit from it.  How is that different than the people who make child porn?  The child is still being severely abused, physically and psychologically.  And the good (ahem) doctor thinks he’s going to “cure” these abusers and the poor children they are abusing by exploiting them for his gain?

Where is America’s outrage at Dr. Phil?  I see it at the mother.  Thank goodness we didn’t wait until this little child became another Caylee Anthony or the mother would have been acquitted.  It seems as though America has become so indoctrinated to political correctness or inundated with crime sitcoms or increasingly stupid that they can’t see guilt when it’s sitting in front of their nose.  Circumstantial evidence?  It’s all circumstantial evidence unless there’s something like a video of a mom pouring hot sauce in her seven-year-old child’s mouth and screaming in his face.  That doesn’t happen very often.

Maybe if Dr. Phil would start a program called “Murdering Moms” we would have had little Caylee’s horrible death on video as well.  As it is, we only have all the other evidence.  And personally, the fact that her mother didn’t even report her missing for a whole month but partied it up instead is enough to find her guilty.  There are a lot of people convicted of killing someone that didn’t pull the trigger, but because they were a party to it, they are just as guilty.  It doesn’t matter that we don’t know who did it; it’s beyond a reasonable doubt.  And I reasonably doubt that little Caylee’s mom didn’t have anything to do with her death.  Guilty.

Dr. Phil

I am here to tell you that Dr. Phil is guilty, too.  Just about as guilty, and maybe even more so, than the people he is encouraging to abuse their children for his financial gain.  It makes me sick.

Why isn’t Nancy Grace all over this?  Why hasn’t America called for Dr. Phil to be called out and put on the stand before a jury for possessing child abuse videos?  And making them!

Where is our outrage at things that matter?

I am outraged.

The Age of Adaptability

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Just as all animals on earth adapt to survive, this year I have been adapting for my survival.  For the past decade, actually, I have been trying to adapt, however unwillingly.

First, it was the eyes.  I will never forget how mad I was at the opthomologist when he told me the reason my vision was blurry was because I was getting older.  I think I was just a young 42 at that time.

And, of course, I’ve been dealing with the joint pain (probably arthritis) since I was 28.  Every year finds a new ache somewhere deep within my bones.

Last year I added a new mix:  falling and dropping things.  The first fall was a year or so ago when I was standing on the shovel sort of jumping on it with both feet (it was fall; needed to get the plants out of the ground to the warm garage) and somehow just fell right over onto the dollie I use to trot my plants to the garage.  I landed right on my left thigh.  That thing was bruised, severely bruised, all the way to my knee with a big hump in it.  I went to the doctor, and everybody had to have a look.  It was one of the worst ones they had seen.

I learned my lesson on that one and now move the dollie out of the way!

This year I fell in the stinking pool (you’ve heard all about that at least once on here) and my whole right arm from the shoulder down to my wrist aches and hurts, and I can’t use it.

Over the weekend Darla wanted me and Dave to go for a nice leisurely evening at Carbondale.  Just as we were nearing town, Dave’s work called saying they needed him for an emergency.  So they dropped me off at Menard’s, and Dar took him back.  When she got in the parking lot at Menard’s, she called and I said I would be right there.

And I would have, too, if it hadn’t been for the gallon can of water sealer that fell on my foot, my big toe mainly.  And now my left foot aches and is bruised.  The good people at Menard’s got me a wheelchair and cleaned the blood up off the floor.  Dar got my picture in the wheelchair but I can’t figure out how to get it off my computer or even the card for that matter to show you just how cute I look in a wheelchair.  The geriatrics are going to so want me someday… someday soon it feels like.

I think I’m beginning to adapt to pain and aching.  Just in time.  My wheelchair days are around the corner.

A Firsts Party

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Today I went to a Firsts party.  Well, it wasn’t called that; it was called a baby shower.  But there were just so many firsts going on that all I could think of was it should have been called a Firsts party.

What firsts?

Mommy and baby

Well, the new mommy with the precious little baby girl on the way.  The little baby girl that already has so many cute little clothes and other baby gadgets and gizmos that I can’t wait for her to get here.

Of course, a new baby means a grandma, and this is the first time my friend is going to be a grandma!  A first-time mom and a first-time grandma.

going to be grandma

She said today that she was going to need lessons on how to be a grandma from me and Dar, but I told her it comes naturally.

grandma love look

The first time she sees that precious little girl she will push Momma out of the way and grab that baby!  She will forget she even has a daughter of her own because she will be in such awe and love of that new little life.

My friend’s other daughter is also having a first:  her first year of college away from home.  She’s been over to the college, done all the orientation, got her room ready to roll (I assume), and will be leaving next month.

bring on the books!

I think she’s excited at the same time that she is a little anxious.  It’s hard to leave your home… especially with a little niece going to make her arrival soon.

So now the circle of firsts begins anew.  From that first breath to her first steps all the way to her first apartment/dorm room of her own to her first baby… and eventually

oh, yeah. That's what I'm talkin' about!

bring it on!

 

 

 

I Love Good Days

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Yesterday was a good day.  My nephew, Mike, came and helped me mow and trim the yard and wash my car.  It was fun being around him;  he’s a hard worker who does a great job.

Today I got an Apple computer.  I haven’t decided if this has been a good day yet or not; still working on the computer.  But being in church was good.  It’s always nice to give God at least a few hours of my week.

Then tonight I checked my little blog, and there was a new comment.  That’s always thrilling to get some posts on your blog, read them, respond, enjoy the whole blog experience.  Tonight’s comment was a sweet note from another blogger with similar problems with her son as I have with my son, schizophrenia.  So I toggled on over to her blog to write her a personal little note and got caught up reading about her trials and memories and other blog materials.

The whole point of this blog tonight is to let you know that she is not having a good day.  As a matter of fact, it sounds like she needs our prayers and, in fact, has asked for them.  Her name is Michelle.

The people of Norway are not having a good day either.  I know this because I have seen their pictures splayed across my computer, and those pictures are of hurting, crying, distraught people.  They need our prayers as well.

Oh, I could go on and on about people that aren’t having a good day, and I hope that you are not one of them.  But if you are, let me know because I am on a mission this week to pray for the hurting and the downcast.  If you had a good day, as I have, tell us what was good about it.  I love hearing good stories.

Did I Mention How Much I Despise Frogs?

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frog

This picture gives me the heebie-jeebies.  I took it.  And let me tell you, it was one of the scariest and most nerve-wracking moments I have ever had during my picture-taking career.  The frog looks rather large in this picture, but that’s only because I cropped and enlarged it for the benefit of my devoted readers (whom I hope have not been traumatized by this photo).  By really looking at it in all its despicable ugliness can you get the full realization of why I am petrified of the monsters.  Thank the good Lord above it did not try to hop and attack me during this photo shot ordeal!

They get in the pool skimmer which inevitably causes one of many frog dilemmas.  Do I, as a big person, adult, grown-up, get this teeny, very dead frog out of the skimmer on my own, wearing rubber gloves and using a net, or do I call one of my trusted frog boys/men?  And just as inevitably I call one of my trusted frog boys/men because I know that when I am trying to get the nasty thing out of my skimmer it will touch one of my gloved hands, and I will immediately die of a heart attack.  (I am only thinking of my children and grandchildren! who need me!)

This is not a fear that comes from a movie perhaps titled “The Frog Attack” when I was small or even by my older brother bombarding me with live and/or dead frogs (lots of other stuff, just not that) or a freak frog phenomenon.  It’s genetic.  And I know it is genetic because my Cousin Sandy is just as petrified of the stinking things as I am.  (She also likes storms as much as I do.)

When I was trying to get the pool up and running, there were three baby frogs in the dry, painted pool.  Since I had banged up the fresh paint with one of my brilliant ideas (too tedious to go into), I had to repaint a few places.  And since Kate and Ava were here when I was painting those places, I had to buck up and put on my big-girl panties and pretend to love the ugly creatures… and got IN the pool with them and painted.  Of course, I had on knee-high rubber boots in the 90 degree weather and gloves as well.

Which just goes to show you that a mother’s and a grandmother’s love and sacrifice knows no boundaries.

The Potential Nudists

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Sorry, folks, no pics on this post.  I have plenty of them, but they are X-rated.  My grandgirls are practicing for their future in the nudist colony.

It began with Kate.  She abhors clothes of any kind and sheds them the minute she opens the door to come inside.  And truth be told, if you look at my house or her house on any given summer day, you will probably see a full moon on that bright sunny day making it’s way around the yard.  She has no inhibitions whatsoever and thinks nothing of running all over the place “nekkid.”

So now Ava is following in her footsteps.  The minute they both set foot inside my kitchen door they begin stripping and are bare before they walk into the living room.  Amazing!  I am trying to teach them that nobody wants to see their buhiney, but Kate says that, in fact, they do.  A statement made purely out of the desire to remain unclothed.

I have to admit… I would do the same thing if it didn’t make me wonder who that old saggy, baggy woman was every time I pass the mirror.