Time Spent Alone

Tuesday, Him and a couple of his friends went on a two day float trip. An overnighter. Two days. I had two days I could eat whatever and whenever I wanted. One morning I could sleep until noon if I wanted, and one night I could stay up until 4:00 AM if I wanted to. Two glorious days to myself.

If you have been married a short time, this may seem a little melodramatic. I, on the other hand, have been married for 32 years. So a good portion of you have been married a short time by my standards. A couple of days to myself sounds like such a good idea. I have always thought so in the past.

I suppose there is something about being married 32 years that changes your perspective. Or maybe, maybe, it's because I have gotten older that my feelings on marriage, life and being alone have changed... softened. A few hours after Him left, I found myself bored. That awful feeling when I can't focus on anything. I was so bored I couldn't stay with anything. Not my iPad, computer, a book or my knitting. Watching mindless TV made it worse. Mind you, Him usually sits downstairs in his man cave on his computer and I am upstairs in my office. We manage to cross paths a few times a day and have supper a few times a week. There was something about Mason, the big dog, moping around and not eating because his man wasn't home, knowing Him wasn't downstairs in his chair that made the aloneness more oppressive.

Looking for something to do, I decided I would try to get a new low carb bread recipe to rise into a larger loaf. It failed, so I did it again with slightly better results. Then I took a loaf over to the neighbor's house because 4 loaves of bread are too much for us to eat. I watched more mindless TV, did a few crosswords, played Candy Crush and did some knitting. Then, at 10:30 PM, I decided to shampoo my carpets. What? I didn't even have to do the dishes while Him was gone and I decide to shampoo carpets and mop the kitchen floor? I was trying to find things to keep myself busy, keep my mind off the empty chair downstairs. And I suppose I couldn't do carpets earlier in the day while I was fooling with bread.

There was a time I really liked having a day or three or seven to myself. Now... not so much. I like to know Him is downstairs. That Him is there if I need him. That nothing will happen to Him while he is floating the river, on the bank fishing or driving on the road with crazy people. It gives me comfort to know where he is and that he is safe.

Him is home now, sitting in his chair downstairs in his man cave, Mason, the dog lays down there at his man's feet and I am, after two days, comforted and at peace.

How has your perspective changed as you aged?

Low Carb Cuban Bread

I love homemade bread. I make homemade bread. But I don't make it often. I have a breadmaker but I don't care for the bread it makes. In the last few years it has been primarily used as a kneading machine. I let it knead, go through the first rise and take it out. I give it a bit of kneading to make sure it has been "punched" down completely, removing all the huge air bubbles, then shape it and put it a regular loaf pan. I let it rise and bake in the oven. It comes out with a much better crust and is way better for sandwiches.

When my mother passed, my dad gave me her Kitchen Aid Mixer. Make no mistake, I have wanted one of these for years. I did not think the cost of a one would be justified by the infrequency of my actually using it. I have used this machine once in about a year. Today I finally got brave enough to actually use it for bread. Which was the primary reason I wanted one.

I looked through my favorite bread recipe book, The Bread Machine Cookbook by Donna Rathmell German. I know, it's more than a little ironic, that I used a machine recipe to make regular bread when I don't like the bread that comes out of a machine... I pulled the Kitchen Aid away from the wall and started mixing. I was amazed, no really, amazed at how little time it took to get a well kneaded dough. I was in a hurry, so I let it rest a little and kneaded it a little more. I shaped it and put it in the warm oven to rise, took it out, preheated the oven and put it back in.

Now that in itself is nothing to crow about. Really, I know loads of women that make their own bread. I need to watch and limit my carbs these days so I am always on the quest for a flavorful, low carb bread. The store where we do all our shopping has stopped carrying the 9g carb per slice that I have come to count on at a reasonable price.

When I first found the low carb bread option, I asked friend of mine, a retired baker, how it is made. He told me they add more gluten which is 66g carb per cup to the dough. Whole wheat is 88g carbs per cup and white is 96g carbs per cup. So, substituting some of the high carb flour equals low carb bread. I also know that flax seed meal has 0-.75 g per cup, depending on who on the internet you believe. So I added that as well.

This bread tonight came up to 127 carbs for the whole loaf... 11 slices per loaf. That means it was 10.5g of carb per slice... The bread I was buying was 9g. per slice. Most whole grain bread, that isn't just brown white bread, has between 23g and 30g per slice. So my excitement over this bread is that at 21g. for two slices is huge!

Now, this may not seem like it should be such a big deal. But... when you have to keep your carbs below 120g a day, it's unbelievable how quickly you burn through them. Especially when I'm supposed to stay below 25-30g a meal. The ability to have some toast, garlic bread or a sandwich becomes an obsession that just won't go away. At least for me... If you tell me I can't have something it becomes a flashing neon sign at the front of my brain. And 10.5g a slice means I can have a sandwich, a real sandwich, not one that's between 2 lettuce leafs and you can't make a grilled cheese sandwich with lettuce. It is delightful that I have been able to figure out how to do this on my own...


What was the last thing you made that was exactly what you needed? Good or bad. :-)

A Wee One Is Coming

Dimples had been at our house since Wednesday and we were having a grand time. Curly and The Farmer were supposed to be here on Sunday for Mother's Day. As Dimples and I were about to get into the bath I heard someone come in the front door then holler, "Hello? Is anybody home?" I didn't immediately recognize her voice, I guess because I wasn't expecting her and she didn't say, "Mom? Are you here?". I closed Dimples in the bathroom to inspect her box of treasures in the drawer while I peeked covertly around the corner to see who was there. You know, just in case it was someone I didn't know walking in my door.

I let Dimples out of the bathroom to say hi to her mom and dad. Curly came took me into a bedroom and handed me an envelope. It was a blood test saying she was pregnant. What? This wasn't supposed to happen. The Farmer has Psoriatic Arthritis and takes Methotrexate (chemo in a pill form) every week. This treatment was supposed to destroy most of his swimmers and the odds of them getting pregnant were almost none. Though it was possible. Not only was it possible, it happened! They have been married less than a year.

What a Mother's Day present she gave me... What a Mother's Day present Curly got from The Farmer!

He was so excited. She felt like... she just got a kid out of diapers a few months ago and she is finally getting independent enough as to not require eyes on her all the time. Dimples will be 4 in July. And I think Curly did not really expect it would happen. And while not old, they are not young. She is almost 38 and he is 44. She is calculating how old they will be when "this" child is grown and gone... Especially given that he already disabled to a degree, and PA is progressive.

Move forward 3 days. She is excited about it. Dimples is excited about it. Dimples has a good "Friend" that works at her favorite store here in town who is very pregnant, so the concept of a baby "in there" is not unfamiliar. When given the news she said, "When will it come out? Tomorrow? I hope it is a girl. I really hope it is a girl. But if it is a boy, I will still play with him."

I am excited for them. Plans are being made, baby equipment that was scattered hither and yon but not permanently given away is starting to be gathered. Dimples clothes will be folded and put away rather than donated, at least until they find out what they are having. they are starting their family together. What a joyful thing. It will bring them even closer together. Dimples won't be an only child. It is difficult to be an only child, Curly was. It is difficult to be the parent of an only child.

This child is further proof that miracles happen. Even today. Dimples was a miracle baby too. Curly had been with Michigan for 14 years before Dimples came along... I was told I would never, ever be a grandma. Then I was told Dimples was it. No more babies. And yet, here we are. Another precious spirit from the Lord is coming to this world. To OUR family. What a delightful addition this baby will be. It will be loved. It will be cherished. And it will have a big sister that is going to love it to bits.



Have you recognized one of your miracles lately?

Mother's Day or Why This Is Not My Favorite Made Up Holiday to Sell Cards and 'Stuff'

I have never liked Mother's Day. I don't like Halloween, Father's Day, Christmas or Easter either... I guess I don't care for holidays in General. The 4th of July is okay because nobody expects anything more than a charcoaled hotdog or burger. Maybe a little potato salad to go with it. Everything else is just cause for a spending frenzy to get the most for everyone and unless they are little children, very seldom pleases the person you have bought something for. And then there is all the drama that is included in any family gathering of any size. I know this is a carry over from my childhood and the way holidays generally ended up.

But Mother's Day? That is a mess all on it's own. It makes me surly. Your family pretends they are going to let you have the day off. They are going to do everything. There were many years that I was so distressed by Mother's Day I would try to avoid going to church all together because of the sappy talks given and the plant that would be dead within two weeks of my planting it. Or more likely within two days when the elk ate it. At least they enjoyed it.

Today Him invited Curly and the Farmer up for supper. It was a great dinner. Conversation was nice, there was no drama... This after I cooked the entire dinner because Him got held up at Church.

Holidays in general seem to make everyone expect something. But Mother's Day in particular creates this anxious anticipation. We see advertisements on TV about how delightful it is to have the perfect husband and their perfect children all treating Mom to THAT ONE DAY A YEAR they will try to make her feel special, loved and oh so appreciated. What about the other 364 days, I ask? Even though I dislike the holiday, I keep waiting for it to be what "they" it is supposed to be. And generally beng disappointed every year. Not that Him doesn't acknowledge the day... this year he bought me a new computer... but it is more of an attitude than the gift...

I hate Mother's Day. I don't know many who wait with anticipation for the day to get here. There are some who love it. They are the one's with perfect families, and cheerful countenances at all times. I am not that way by nature. But... when the day comes and I see them making a half-hearted attempt at giving me a day, I graciously play along. It makes them feel better knowing they are giving that one special day a year.

I don't mean to be a wet blanket, really I don't. I am trying not to sound whiney, though I guess I am...I kept out all the serious complaining, that never solves anything. But honestly, I would rather take myself, alone, to the Hot Springs pretend it isn't Mother's day a all.

Mother's Day... do you love it or hate it?

I Couldn't Say It Better or Why I Needed To Read This Article

I read an article today that was awesome. I suggest everyone who isn't in my Facebook take a stroll over there and read it, the link is below. I shared it on my Facebook page because there are so many of us that feel like this. It's probably gone viral by now. Forgive the repetition.

Age, ethnicity or geographical location makes no difference. It doesn't matter if you have toddlers or teenagers, boys or girls, or if your long ago toddler has toddlers or teenagers of their own. There are days, weeks, months or perhaps years that you may have felt inadequate as a mother or grandmother. That same feeling may have been the one I had growing up. You know, the one where you felt you couldn't do enough, or do it well enough to please your mom or dad? Yeah, that one... While she or he was likely feeling like they couldn't do enough to please you, make you happy, or create a well balanced, productive adult. This is the picture of my life.

Curly is 37 years old. I still feel like I am not good enough as a mother. Now I have the added pleasure of feeling the same way about being a grandmother. And we might as well throw wife and daughter in there too... I'm striving to reach that higher level of understanding and acceptance to know and understand there can be benefit to not feeling I'm not doing enough, as long as I'm not beating myself up with it, it can make me strive to do better, to be better. Self-flagellation or a personal pity-party is never productive. Though I must say I have attended more pity parties than I care to mention.

For me, there seems to be something... Not so humble... about saying, "I'm the best mom in the world. I have done everything right." I don't think i know anyone in this life that can honestly make that claim. Him likes to have Dimples tell him he is the greatest Grandpa in the world. I guess he doesn't have the, 'I'm not good enough' syndrome. He is doing just fine and not afraid to admit it. :-) There must be somewhere in the middle that will feel right, be right. That place is know as nirvana. I'm still looking for it, thinking it is just around the corner. I know I'm closer to my desired goal so I keep peeking around corners for it.


Do you struggle with how you're doing or have you found your nirvana?


Dear Less-Than-Perfect Mom
http://http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lea-grover/dear-less-than-perfect-mom_b_3184445.html

We Are the Sum of Our Parents or Why My Feet Hurt All The Time

A friend once told me there two things a woman should never try to save money on when buying... A pair of shoes and a bra. "Buy the best", she said."Because if your shoes don't fit right or your bra is to tight or flopping around you are going to be miserable." I was a young woman when I got this advice. I thought about following it.. for about a minute. We were young. Him was back in school. We had a mortgage with interest that would choke a horse. We were in a word, broke.

My first pair of good shoes (read expensive) were purchased when Curly was headed off to college. I wore those shoes nearly every day for 10 years. I almost cried when I 'had' to put them in the trash because they were falling apart. Literally.

My first expensive bra was purchased after Him retired. I have a hard time spending good money on a bra when I seldom wear one anyway. I usually put one on if I am actually leaving the house, unless I'm wearing a coat and won't be taking it off, then I won't bother with the retched thing. And frankly, nobody should be looking at my boobs to see if they are properly placed in their perky position. Sorry. That bothers some people, but... I'm a child of the 60's and 70's, Gloria Steinem, burn your bra and all that. Though I hardly qualify as much of a feminist. I just can't stand that bra pinching me and the girls are going to end up in the same place sooner or later anyway. My mother was proof of that, if she was awake, she was wearing a bra, until her later years.

But I digress.

I.Loath.Shopping. For anything. Anywhere. The exception to this deep distaste for shopping is when shopping for wool to spin, yarn to knit and the accoutrement that goes with those two hobbies. I have always had a hard time finding shoes, (or clothes for that matter,) I like. It has been this way from the time I remember being able to make my own choices about what I was going to have on my body. I hate shopping so much that in Jr. High School, I could never make up my mind about what to buy. Because I would take forever to decide on anything and was constantly taking my younger sister's clothes my mom stopped taking me to buy school clothes...She took my sister shopping and had her pick out my clothes in addition to her own. It was a perfect arrangement as far as I was concerned.

We still had a problem. I liked my sister's shoes too. My mom couldn't let her buy my shoes since she needed my feet with her when she got them. So I would often take my sister's shoes, along with her clothes of course. There was a bigger issue at hand, or foot, as the case may be... She wore a size 7, I was 8-81/2. I didn't care, I wore them anyway

I'm sure that those few years while my feet were still growing to their size 9, 91/2, or 10 shoe, depending on the fit, I may have squished things too many times in my attempt to make my feet smaller by wearing her awesome shoes. It didn't stop my feet from growing bigger. I probably damaged something. They hurt all the time. My heels feel like someone has taken a 2x4 to them.

Then, unexpectedly, a few months ago while putting some lotion on my feet, bemoaning their state, I actually looked at those poor, old, achey feet. I saw my mother's feet at the end of my legs. What? I had never realized I had her feet. Bunions, callouses, toe nails and achy heels. I, we, had always attributed her sore heels to the fact that she fell of a ladder and had broken a heel. I don't think that was the case. Whatever is making mine hurt is what made her's hurt. After all, I have her feet. I have the same quest as she did. To find a pair of shoes that don't hurt my feet. I haven't yet. This is a major factor in not buying spendy shoes. I don't want to spend a hundred dollar bill on a pair of shoes that hurt my feet and will go to the back of my closet in a week or two.

I look at the end of my legs and can see a little of her left in me. It makes me smile. Until I stand up or put them on the floor, then smiling isn't the descriptor I would use for what my face looks like. While visiting my dad a few weeks ago, a curious thing happened. I was whining because my feet were hurting so bad. He said, "Wait there, I have something for you." He then proceeds to tell me that his feet were hurting him really bad. He talked to his doc about it and the doc gave him some silicone heel cup inserts and a simple stretching exercise to do in his easy chair. He gave me the inserts. I did the the little exercises and put the heel cups in my slippers. It was magic! It was a miracle! It was the first time in over 20 years my feet did not hurt to put on the floor or walk on.

While thinking about how awesome my feet felt that first night, I realized I didn't just have my mother's feet, they certainly look like hers. But I have my dad's feet as well. They contributed equally to my poor feet. My dad was able to give me a solution to the major part of my pain... My mother gave me a physical, visual reminder of her.

This isn't, of course, everything my parents gave me. I have many physical traits that would tell you I belonged to them if we were all in a room together. I didn't think I looked like my mom much, until she passed and I was looking at photos. The same with my dad... I can see him in me too... there are parts of my body that are more visibly attributable to one parent or the other. But my feet? Both of my parents are squarely in my feet. I can thank them both for something about my poor, old, feet. And have a better appreciation for all that their feet have gone through.


What did your body get from your parents?

Television or Why it is just noise

May 2011. That was when Curly and Dimples finished with living in Michigan and were finished with a very abusive and dangerous situation.

I was delightful for him and me to have them out of that situation and here safe with us. The side benefit was that we got to have Dimples here with us when she was a only few months shy of 2 to a few months shy of 4. I made trips out there to see them about every two months after Dimples was born. Now she was here with us and we could watch as this lovely little person who had no knowledge of how the world works, discovere how the world works in ways adults have forgotten.

I also was introduced to Toddler TV. When Curly was a little one, we had Sesame Street. Now there are not only dozens of different toddler programs but stations that run toddler TV all day and night. Dimples became the queen of the television. All the adults in the house lost control of the television completely. All televisions in the house could not play anything except Toddler TV programs. She would not allow it. If she heard something on another television in the house, she would migrate toward it and let you know she wanted to watch “my shows”. It was easier to change the channel than argue.

Now I know, I can hear you, yes you. Telling me that children shouldn’t watch television all day. I agree. But, she had just spent 6 months in a friend of Curley’s spare bedroom. There were reasons they spent most of their time in that bedroom, mostly because they were hiding. There was hardly room for an 18 month old to play, but there was Nick Jr. on all day. It made the situation easier. You don’t break that habit just because she moved to my house. At my house, I am always in the room with her when she is watching TV and we are interacting with whatever is on the television. She tells me things that are funny to her, I ask her questions about what is happening. I am always listening to what is on the television, thus I am prepared to ask or answer questions and she knows I am really there with her.

I know all the shows, songs and most of the characters on Disney Jr.. I know she has learned a lot from these TV programs. Me? I feel a little dumber for all the hours that toddler TV has been pounded into my brain. A while back I had Jake and the Neverland Pirates theme song stuck in my head for two days. I have even made observations that one should never consider. Like Mickey Mouse being the worst example of a boyfriend ever. He and Minnie have been “a couple” for over 80 years. Donald and Daisy are just a few years behind Mickey and Minnie. I also learned that Goofy was married. He has a son. But in true Disney fashion, Mrs. Goofy was killed off somewhere, somehow. I love the Fairy’s movies and series. Dimples loves Sophia the first. She is a little Princess that is just a bit older than Dimples. What’s not to love.

She is not interested in Sesame Street. At.All. After a couple of years, she is finally willing to let the adults watch television. It depends on her mood and the time of day. She will let Him watch what he wants, when he wants to watch it. She has started to ‘play’ rather than stand in front of the television all day. She will sit down to coloring or a reading book, this is a recent development.

So while I feel dumber for listening to all that Toddler TV, particularly since they repeat the same episodes ad nauseam , she has gained some skills she may not have gotten any other way. There are worse habits she could have developed during 6 months of hiding… Now Curly has remarried and we have Dimples a few days every couple of weeks. I miss Mickey and the Chuggington Trains. I miss Dimples. She is happier now that her mother is settling back into her life and rediscovering who she is and who she is not. She is happy she has a daddy now. She had some trouble grasping the concept that she does not live here and her mommy isn’t coming back to her bedroom here. She has finally got it where her house is and that she visits Nana's house.

As annoying as Toddler TV is… I am grateful there is good programing for a little girl that had a very difficult beginning in life. She can see that life is good, bright and that problem solving is not that difficult if you put your mind to it… Oh...wait, grown-ups should be living by those principles as well..


Has Toddler TV been a part of you life? If so what was your favorite kids show?