Waiting to Exhale

For many years, I made every loaf of bread that was consumed in this house, and with four kids - all teen-agers - that was a LOT. As they left home - the Squire's nephew to the military, and the girls to their own homes - I made less and less, until now I may only make a loaf or two a week. Of course, I also don't have the frustration to bang out, but that's another story!



I've been on a cleaning binge recently, and found a Tupperware container of yeast hiding on a top shelf. I used to buy it by the pound, not the packet.  I mixed a cup of warm water and a tablespoon of sugar with a teaspoon of yeast, and waited to see if the yeast was still viable.

Nada.

Well, even if it's not fit for cooking, I can still flush it down the toilet, a quarter cup a week, as it helps the septic system.  I flushed some last night, and left the container on the kitchen counter.

This morning, we came downstairs to discover the animals had gotten into the yeast. They'd knocked the container onto the floor and eaten a fair amount of it. Everywhere they had licked the floor, the yeast had stuck, and what didn't get eaten was like l-e-e-e-tle tiny marbles, all over the kitchen.  The worst of it was that the yeast had given all of the animals gas. Bad. You have not lived until you have shared a house with two large dogs and several cats, all of which have a bad case of The Farts.

It is too cold to open the windows, and I'm almost afraid to turn on the gas stove.

How Hard Can It Be?

Several years ago, the Wednesday Morning Coffee Bunch made bookmarks from plastic canvas and red or blue ribbons, one for every Prayer Book and Hymnal in our church.

I am constantly amazed at the number of ribbons fluttering loose in the pews like so many Tibitan prayer flags. People will open the Prayer Book to the Order of Service, toss the ribbon aside, flip to the Psalm without marking their place, and then scramble to find it again.  One man even removes his marker completely "because the ribbons are never in the right place, anyway". Does he think we have a team of pixies who go through the church and mark every hymnal on Saturday afternoon?

Today was Boy Scout Sunday, and I noticed almost every visitor carefully used the bulletin to mark the books.  Now, how hard would it be to get our members to use the ribbons?

That'll Teach Me!

Well, it just goes to show you.

I worked all day Thurday and Friday, sorting and tossing, and woke up this morning - to snow! This is the first honest-to-goodness snow we've had all winter. We had a couple of periods where it neared white-out, but the ground is really too warm for it to stick. It is 30 at the moment, and supposed to go down to 20 overnight, and not get much warmer tomorrow, but it will be back in the 50s on Monday and Tuesday.

Practically spring, and we finally get winter.

Spring Cleaning

I have no idea what came over me, but I decided to dig out all of my unused Barbie "stuff" and sort it out. Furniture I've made but never used, the Santa's Workshop I did one year in place of the general store and never set up again, enough pots and pans for a small restaurant. I filled an entire Xerox box with bits and pieces and put it out on Freecycle.

The next item is to sort through all of the things on the front porch. When our grandson was about five, he and I were going to put together a lighthouse kit. The Squire bought me a lot of nautical goodies for Christmas that year - a nice rowboat, a superb telescope, some pelicans and harbor seals - all of which are still on the front porch. Our grandson will be 25 this summer.

I've also been sorting through books, and in our house that is a major undertaking! Lots and lots of stuff to take over to the Smith College book sale. I have complete sets of the Brother Cadfael novels, and all of the Peter Wimsey books, including the two that were written by someone else, using Dorothy Sayers' notes after she died. It's hard to accept the fact that I simply cannot keep everything. (Lord knows I've tried, though!) The last two days to donate books are this coming Sunday and Monday, so I'll have to load the car and drive to Timonium Monday morning.

I haven't felt this ambitious since the day before my last child was born! And believe me, like Sara, I am well past that sort of thing.

Spinal Block

We were up at the unheard-of hour of 6:45 this morning to get to the Surgical Center by 8:00. I sat in glum silence while the Squire - the fink - ate his breakfast before we left. I couldn't even have a cup of coffee; it wasn't a pretty sight.

Anyway, the spinal block seems to have been a complete success! (Applause, please!) The bottom four discs in my spine are completely shot, and the doctor doesn't want to do a fusion, so we have been making do with injections of various sorts. I did have a partial discectomy in 2006, which was a tremendous help, but he he said these discs are beyond even what that procedure could do.

When he hit the nerve that runs down my right leg, the pain was horrendous, but it only lasted a few moments, and then the leg went completely numb. When I had collected my wits, the staff moved me to the recovery area and the Squire came in to keep me company. At first, I could only wiggle my toes, then lift my knee, and finally, after about 45  minutes, I was able to move the leg normally so they let me go home.  Lunch and back to bed.

I am so accustomed to moving very carefully to avoid making my leg hurt, that it is odd to be able to move as I please.

Thank God for modern medicine!

So Much for Manual Dexterity

We had a work day at church on Saturday, and after I managed to drip white paint all over the kitchen floor and myself, not once, but twice, popular opinion was that I'd do better dusting and polishing in the sanctuary. I took the step ladder in so I could vacuum the tops of the windows - dead stink bugs by the hundreds - and managed to pinch my finger in the process. Twice. Blood and band aids.

As I was dusting under the pews I was reminded of my years at boarding school. (That tells you a lot about what kind of kid I was, doesn't it?) We all had chores to do, and one of mine was mopping the upstairs front hall with a mop that was nearly as wide as I was tall. Could have made good use of it Saturday morning.

Tonight was another Prayer Shawl meeting, so I took along my little green worm. I've been working on it all week, but it is not obvious to the untrained observer. It is about 20 inches long and an inch wide, and seems to be sort of zig-zaggy. I've been working with some YouTube videos on "Crocheting for Left-Handed Dummies" but not having much luck.

One woman in the group has knitted five shawls in the last two weeks. I am suffering from feelings of inadequacy. Big time.

Too Early to Think Straight

Before Christmas, the Squire got an ingrown hair inside his nose, which caused him to bear a strong resemblance to W.C. Fields. Our family doctor sent him to Patient First, where he was prescribed first one, and then another, antibiotic, neither of which worked. They, in turn, sent him to a dermatologist who did a culture and put him on Bactrim. I happened to mention this chain of events to the Army doctor, and she very casually remarked that "they frequently use Bactrim for MRSA." Lovely. That was a heart-stopping announcement!

The infection cleared up but about two weeks ago it came roaring back, settling in his sinuses.  I don't mind telling you that an infection this close to his brain was a tad unsettling.  The Squire simply called our family doctor and asked for a renewal on the Bactrim, which promptly caused him to break out in a head-to-toe rash. Back to the dermatologist for a round of steroids and yet another antibiotic and a cream to dab, via Q-tip, on the sore in his nose.

This morning about 4:15 he got up to blow his nose, and then left the bedroom. Suddenly he was shouting from the bathroom that he needs to go to the hospital NOW. He had awakened because he was gagging on his own blood! I don't think I have ever gotten dressed quite so fast in my life. I grabbed yesterday's clothing from the laundry basket and ran! Off we go, him with a wad of bloody tissue and me without my contacts. Anyway, we were in and out of the hospital reasonably quickly, with a bottle of some sort of spray, which he is to use twice a day for three days and then toss. The doctor also told us that everybody has MRSA is their nose, and that is where they test for it, so it's nothing to sweat about, but just to be careful. No more sharing spoons and all that jazz.

The ER doctor suggested the Squire see his ENT today to have the inside of his nose inspected and possibly cauterized, but the doctor only has hours in Bel Air on Tuesday and Thursday, and they can't possibly squeeze him in until Thursday afternoon. I made an appointment, but I have the feeling that he is going to figure the heck with it at that point. We know what happened and how to handle it, and unless he has another flair up we're just going wing it.

TMI and all that jazz...I'm going back to bed. I don't do 4 AM any more.