As for Blondie… just finished her afghan two weeks ago and decided to knit up a stocking cap, too!  She also decided to bake cookies.  Three entries for her! 

Judging is tomorrow morning – I’ll let you know how it goes!

So here are our two main entries:

Where ARE THEY  !?!  

I remember when I was a kid:  Those summers seemed to just stretch on and on and on.  Barefoot all summer – only putting shoes on for Church on Sunday.  Never really going anywhere or doing anything.  (My mom might remember differently.) 

June went by so fast.  There were so many times that I was going to blog – but there was either too much going on that I didn’t know where to start, or I was just plain tired.

Crossview even sent a message into the seemingly blackhole of my blog – to no avail.  SORRY Crossview….

The first week of June Blondie went to church camp.  I thought I was going to get a lot done without her around.  WHAT was I THINKING!!  I still had Red at home and apparently Blondie helps out far more than I even thought.  Nothing got done… but I raced around a lot.  Then Blondie got home on Saturday, to start VBS on Sunday night, through Wednesday morning…. again I didn’t get anything done.  Thursday we picked up her cousin for Blondie’s first birthday/slumber party for Friday.  Friday night was THE party.  [I had wondered about doing a slumber party for her.  There are several families in my church that “frown” on them.  So I asked Sir – “sounds like fun,” he said – so Blondie had her party (with a chosen few).]  They had a blast.  I didn’t give them a bed time.  The next day I asked how late they stayed up.  One girl said that at 1:30 am they were watching a movie, looked over at Blondie who was sound asleep, turned the TV off and all went to sleep.  So much for the planned all-nighter. 

Blondie’s cousin decided to stay the weekend and we returned her  - and Blondie – to the cousin’s home on Monday, the 23^rd.  The 23^rd was actually Blondie’s birthday.  Her cousin was to play a thingie that their grandmother had planned and Blondie decided to go with.  I presented it as…. Do you want to be with your parents (who love and adore you) or go spend the week at your cousin’s?  Blondie said “with my cousins, DUH!”  so off she went.  She and her cousin played a duet (memorized fortunately because they forgot their music).

Friday I picked her up as she and I were to go to a mother/daughter Brightlights Conference.

We finally returned home on Saturday night.  And things have been moving a bit slower.

Between all these things, Blondie managed to get her afghan crocheted for the county fair for this Thursday.

I’m still not done with my doiley…. But I plan to be.

Between all these things – my dishwasher broke down, we got a new one. 

Mowing the lawn has been a challenge between rains – and the lawn mower/garden tractor breaking down and still not working well.  I can mow for about 30 minutes and then it stops…. Then about an hour later I can mow for another 30 minutes….. it takes awhile.  This is a yard that normally takes up to 4 hours to mow nonstop.

Red has been creative in escaping his room – I think I finally got THAT fixed.

I still managed to do my PT job… somehow.

In a nut shell (me basically being the NUT) that was my June.

Maybe things will slow down.

Here’s my theory of being “over the hill”…. Once you get to the top and start going “over” things pick up speed…. Fast…. 

Later….

Stop the world!  I want to get off.

I heard that line from somewhere.  I don’t know if it was from a play or a song.  But it seems appropriate some days.  Like the day years ago when I called my mother and asked if I could resign from being an adult.

She said I couldn’t.

The last two weekends I had to make a 5 hour trip (one way).  The first was for my niece’s graduation.  The second was for some mandatory training.  Both times I stayed at my sister’s home.

My sister (as I mentioned in a previous blog) is a Red Neck. 

I forget that until I’m in the midst of experiencing it … again.  I don’t know why it surprises me; yet it always does.

My sister and I are only 3 ½ years apart.  I am the elder (howbeit I LOOK younger ha ha).  How is it that we two sister, raised by the same parents in the same home are so DIFFERENT?! 

The graduation open house parties I attend are the nice, polite ones.  People put the graduation card in the wicker basket by the door and accept a pretty paper cup of punch.  We greet the graduate who politely greets us and thanks us for coming.  There are no surprising behaviors (we’ll ignore the little boy over in the bushes that just learned that he can “go” outside) and there is fun, animated, interesting conversations with some overtones of laughter.  We arrive at the correct time and leave before we overstay our welcome – rarely more than two hours (unless you volunteered to help clean up).

I don’t know why I expected the same from my niece.  They had an all-out Par-Tay.  I have no idea how many came, they just kept coming, and I think some stayed over night.  There was a bonfire and lots of food, and lots of booze.  I would forget that glasses just sitting around weren’t innocently holding punch and would dive at Red as he would pick up an unattended glass.  There was some questionable talk – and some of it must have been very crude – since I didn’t understand what was said, which only means I didn’t get it (I would tuck it in my mind to remember to ask Sir later if he understood it). 

My darling husband couldn’t come because of work.  I wish he had come.  Not only would I have had him to be with – but I would have stayed in a motel room.  He told me that I should anyway.  But my sis-in-law said that I could stay in her camper; she and my brother would sleep in his luxury semi.  Red was to sleep with me.  He couldn’t.  We stayed in the camper in the back of the house – but even though the party was in the front some of it drifted back.  Mostly kids yelling in the back in the dark.  So Red would doze off and then wake.  I got cold and got under the covers only to discover that my s-i-l doesn’t have top sheets and the only covering was an old bedspread.  In the early morning my 4 yr old neice woke up and wanted to be with her mom.  So I took her the long walk down the driveway to the semi.  On my way back, I thought I’d go in the house and crash on the couch for a bit.  No way.  There were kids laying every where:  on all the couches, on the floor, across the huge ottoman.  There was simply no place to sit.  I went back to the camper and got Red.  My sister saw me out her bedroom window and asked what I was doing.  I said, “I’m going to Perkins for coffee and a warm place to sit.”  She called me about an hour later and said she kicked some kids out and I could come back now.  Later that day, after a mostly sleepless night, I took my two children and drove the 5 long hours home. 

The only comfortable thing that night was the thought that I saved $65 on a motel room.  It was a small comfort.  Sir said “I told you to take the motel.”

He was right.

Again.

It can get annoying to be married to a guy that’s right all the time.  However, I should learn and just listen to him.

Did I? No.

The next weekend for my workshop – I stayed at my sisters again.

But that’s another blog….

 
We were traveling back from my sister’s this weekend and I stopped to take a picture of Blondie and Red sitting in Paul Bunyan’s hand.  This Paul Bunyan is 25’ high.  I had taken Blondie’s picture sitting in his hand when she was small; so wanted to do the same with Red. 

We walked up and he said “wow” and I said “go sit in his hand.”  He walked over with Blondie, who promptly sat down and reached for Red – who screamed NO!  He absolutely refused.  I picked him up and sat him with Blondie and he wriggled away.  This child was afraid!  This baffled me because he generally is afraid of nothing.

Well I managed to get one squirmy picture of him and then Blondie let him go.  He backed away and looked waaaay up and said “Hi, Jesus!” 

Huh??

He kept repeating it.  “Hi Jesus!”  

So I though I’d try to sit him in the hand again.  Nothing doing.  So we left.  Red cheerfully waved good bye, “Bye, Jesus!  Bye, Jesus!”

Where on earth did he get the idea that Jesus looked like Paul Bunyan??  I don’t have any story books that have Jesus’ “picture” in it.  I never told Red that Jesus wears a red flannel shirt – or carried an ax.

Sir thought it was all very funny. 

I’m thinking now that when I pray and say “Dear Jesus” or “Lord Jesus”   - what’s going to be in Red’s mind is Paul Bunyan. 

And he’ll tell people later that he met Jesus when he was a small child……

Easy Microwave Chocolate Cake

INGREDIENTS

• 3 tablespoons butter, softened
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 3 tablespoons cocoa powder
• 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 pinch salt

DIRECTIONS

1. Spray a medium microwave-safe bowl with non-stick spray and set aside. In a mixing bowl, combine the butter, sugar, egg, vanilla extract, and milk; blend together. Combine the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and salt; blend into the mixture until smooth. Pour into greased bowl.
2. Cover and cook in the microwave on high for 2 to 2 1/2 minutes, or until cake springs back when touched. Since all microwaves cook differently, adjust the cooking time to accommodate your machine. To serve, let the cake cool five minutes, then cover the bowl with a plate and turn both bowl and plate upside down so the cake falls onto the plate.

The weekend was memorable.   I have now sufficiently recovered enough to write about it.  We had planned a nice weekend home together. 

First: Sir had to work on Saturday – not happy about it, but necessary.  That’s okay – we’ll make do and have our cook-out after he comes home.  I rotor tilled the garden (yes, I know, much later than everyone else) and mowed the lawn. 

Sunday we went to church.  Nothing unusual, and then came home.

I loaded the dishwasher with yesterday’s dishes and started it up.  Then tried again.  Turned the knob slowly and listened.  The water isn’t running in.  Tried again, and again and again.  Sir looked at it, “huh, guess it isn’t working,” and walked away.  (Now I really know that work is on his mind.)  So, I shrugged and proceeded to pull the dishes out of the dishwasher and washed them by hand. 

Except the water isn’t staying hot.  In fact it’s getting cooler.  This reminded me that my shower that morning wasn’t as hot as I thought it should be.

Drat, I think, now the water heater is broke down.  Just great.  We had ordered a new clothes washer (the front loader kind) and now the dishwasher AND the water heater go out.

I tell Sir the water heater must be broken.  He goes and checks that.  No, the pilot light is on.  He goes out of the house - we’re out of propane.   It’s Sunday on Memorial weekend.

We have a gas stove, so of course that wasn’t operable.  So I cooked supper over an open campfire.  It was fun – it would have been more fun if it wasn’t so necessary.  I remember that I had a hot pot in storage.  So I kept that thing going to do the dishes. 

It got a little cool that evening and Monday was supposed to be cooler.  Normally I wouldn’t have minded too much except our furnace is a run by … you guessed it – propane. 

Monday morning my new front load washing machine arrived.  YEAH!  I started with towels.  WOW! That thing really wrings them out! I threw them in the dryer and started another load.  I asked Sir how long he thought the dryer would take since they were so well wrung out.  He looked at me and we said together:  Oh, no, Gas dryer.  Those things aren’t drying today.  So now I have two loads of damp towels in the basement. 

I prepared supper by microwave, hot pot, and crock pot.  By Monday evening I wasn’t feeling well.  Every joint in my body ached.  I chalked it up to stress and not being able to take my usual nice long hot soak in the tub.  But during the night I just ACHED.  Tuesday I didn’t feel any better.  But I had a meeting and 4 court hearings that afternoon, and as I explained to Blondie: when you’re self-employed you don’t get paid sick days.  So I went in to work.  It took a lot of brain power to concentrate.

I came home just exhausted to two kids who wanted attention.  The house was too cool and the propane hadn’t been delivered.  I warmed up baked beans for supper, brought the kids into the TV room, turned that space heater on high and crashed on the couch.  I don’t even know when Sir got home.  I took my temp – 100.7.  I know that isn’t high.  But I felt a little validated that I knew I was sick – and wasn’t a hypochondriac. 

Today I feel pretty well.  The propane was delivered and after much work I got the dryer, furnace and water heater going again.  And the dishes are all done.  By hand.

Life isn’t ever boring. 

As to Red.  I was out puttering in the yard the other day (YES our snow is finally gone) and I hear this little voice say “this for you, mommy, this for you.”  I turn and see my darling son holding a fist full of dandelions out to me. 

It makes it all worthwhile.

or maybe the moms who don't yell and are always smiling and pleasant with every hair in place are on valium.  

I haven’t blogged lately, I know.  I’ve been distracted and all my creative juices have gone elsewhere.

Lately my days have gone like this:

Red (still in diapers), “mommy, mommy!  Potty! Potty! Please? Potty!”  I go to him, take his diaper off and take him to the potty.  He sits there… and sits there.  We wait.  He smiles, flushes the toilet and … sits.  I wait.  He plays with himself, I ignore it.  We wait, 15 minutes.  Nothing.  I take him off.  “no! my potty!”  “Listen,” I say, “play in your room for a bit I have to make a phone call.”

I call Blondie’s piano teacher.  Yes, group lesson is tonight at 5:15pm.  Okay – we’ll be there.  I tell Blondie that the lesson is at 5:15 tonight.

Blondie asks, “5:15?”

“Yes,” I say.

Blondie says, “Okay, 5:15.  Does it start at 5:15 or are we supposed to get there at 5:15”

“I don’t know.  She just said 5:15.”

“Okay, because she’s showing a movie tonight.  If it starts at 5:15 we should be there early.  But if she said to be there at 5:15 she may not start it until…. Say 5:20?”

“I don’t know.  She said 5:15.”

“Okay.  Well, I don’t want to be late.  If it starts at 5:15 can we be there early?  Like can we be there at 5:10?”

“Yes, Blondie, we can be there at 5:10”

“Okay, well then we should leave at 5:00 so we can be there at 5:10, for it to start at 5:15.”

“Yes,” I say. 

“Okay, ‘cause I don’t want to be late.”

Big sigh.  I go upstairs to work on a report.

“Poopy, Mommy!  Potty!”  Red calls.

I call back, “I’m not falling for that again! I’ll be there in a bit.”

“poopy mommy! Poopy poopy poopy!”

Sigh.  I go check.

Poopy.

“Where’s your diaper?”

“Poopy!” 

I look.  Yes, poopy.  On the floor, on his foot.  Where’s the diaper?  I look around.  Oh, there it is.  Flung into his sister’s room.  Yikes.

I look at Red.  Too much for a wipey.  I put him in the tub and clean up the floor. 

Finally.  Clean boy, clean floor.  I put his diaper on backwards.  HA!  See him get that one off.

The phone rings.  It’s Blondie’s piano teacher. “Brownie? I’m sorry I gave you the wrong time.  The group lesson is at 5:00 tonight.”

I go slowly out to Blondie.  “Your piano teacher called.  Lessons are at 5:00.” 

Blondie says, “Why did she change the time?”

“She didn’t change it – she just gave me the wrong time.”

“Okay.  So it’s at 5:00?”

“Yes.”

“Does it start at 5:00 or are we supposed to be there at 5:00?”

Sigh. “She just said 5:00.”

“Okay.  Because I want to be on time.  Can we leave early to be there at 4:50?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.  So we’ll leave here at 4:45 to be there at 4:50 because it starts at 5:00?”

“Yes!”

“Okay.  So it’s at 5:00 instead of 5:15?”

“YES!!!”

Blondie tears up.  “Why are you always yelling at me?”

But I'm not on valium.   You need a prescription for that.  And my doctor has small kids, too.  She'd just laugh. 

I've somewhat run out of steam with my story.  It seems that once the anniversary date of Sir’s transplant went by – it didn’t nearly seem as important to keep writing.  I read through the entries and I thought of another thing I must share.  Look back on page 6 of the story.  I had talked about finances and how I had more than slightly freaked.

I had friends assure me that I wouldn’t lose my house – one friend said that he’d be in charge of a fund raiser and would be able to cover that.  A lot of prayers were going out – I’m sure I don’t even know who all was involved with that.  I was panicked because I didn’t know how soon Sir would recover and we had normal bills to pay and then with an unknown HUGE medical bill.  The insurance didn’t have a contract with this particular hospital for a pancreas transplant – only the kidney.  Their policy was to refuse the whole thing since there hadn’t been prior authorization; never mind that this occurred late Sat/early Sun and their office wasn’t open.  We waited on a fund raiser until we knew what kind of bill we were looking at.

Our final bill?  About $300.00.   That’s right.  The surgeon had written a letter to the insurance company and explained in apparently convincing terms the idiocy of two separate surgeries in two different cities just because that is what they covered.  When we got the bill it was over $97,000.00.  Insurance paid all but $300.  Because the way the insurances are set up, Sir had to apply for Medicare – otherwise it would affect his coverage when he turned 62.  When the insurance and medicare did all their finagling around – even that $300 was covered.

We happened to be at AWANA parent’s night the day we got that final bill.  Our friend asked how things were going and I told him about that.  He told the AWANA gathering – because they had all been praying for Blondie’s daddy.  There was a lot of praising over this.

It was unbelievable and it was truly an answer to prayer.

Sir recovered faster than any of us expected.  He tried to go back to work later that week.  He called me from a work site and asked me to come in to town just to carry the tools up the stairs.  He knew that if he could just get the tools up the stairs he could do some work.  Disbelieving, I got in the car.  He called on the way in and said he’d just come home.  We laugh at that now.  He truly felt great – but his body was still too weak.  He ran a small fever and ended up in the hospital over the weekend.  He agreed to not go back to work for awhile.

But he did go back to work.  The medical bill was paid. And there was no apparent need for a fund raiser.  Looking back I wish that I had allowed it anyway; we still got behind financially just because we were both out of work for awhile.  And a lot of miles were put on going back and forth to very frequent medical appointments. 

Now for a moment of venting.  Sir’s father had a talk with me while they visited during the 10 days their son was in the hospital.  FIL asked what we owed on the house.  He said he would pay that off plus give us $20,000.  He wanted to do this and then said “but I have to clear this with MIL and you know how she is with money.”  We never saw any money.  Now don’t get me wrong – I don’t deserve their help.  But it was frustrating on several different levels 1) FIL offered MIL refused 2) MIL got upset with Sir because he went back to work too soon but we needed to make money!  3) I have incredible difficulty understanding that marriage – MIL dictates the money and won’t “allow” FIL to follow through on his promise.   Now MIL wants me to refinish my hardwood floors because they don’t look so great.  I don’t have the money for that.  She said she’d “help”.  She bought a garage door because she thought we needed it.  These are not priority things.  We were putting  groceries on charge cards!  When they were there that week MIL wanted to buy a new couch to replace the 30 yr old dirty thing in the TV room where Sir would recuperate.  I thought this a good idea.  She didn’t buy a couch.  But they spent much time saying what needed to be done on the house – they said we needed new siding (which we do, but can’t afford).  It was just incredibly frustrating to me – Sir had just gone through a major transplant surgery and they were saying where we should spend money – but we didn’t have it too spend.

Now I know it doesn’t sound like I’m grateful.  I truly am.  I just was very frustrated that FIL promised financial help and MIL didn’t allow it.  And then they were criticizing how our house is – when we don’t have the means to make changes.  

Okay venting over.  Big Deep Breath.

Now I look at my husband.  This husband who has energy, feels good and comes walking into the house and smiles at me.  I get to enjoy him for many years to come.  I didn’t think I would have that. 

Thank You, God, for your provisions.

Thank you Doug and Julie for your generous hearts.