Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: Come on. Get inside.
Dwight: Where are we going?
Jim: We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese.
Michael: Chuck E. Cheese? Oh, god. I’m so sick of Chuck E. Cheese.
Jim: We’re going to the hospital, Michael.
Michael: I know. I’m just sayin’…

My husband Hockey God and I just spend all day cracking each other up over here. We’re not good at much else but we’re good as hell at that. He knows this is my favorite YouTube clip ever:

I am living proof of what happens to a girl when she grows up with her dad’s parents loving them some Lawrence Welk and her mom’s parents loving them some Hee-Haw. I know for sure Steve’s gonna love this one:

You know why that one is so good? Well, a lot of reasons, obviously. The technical wherewithal, the go-to-it-iveness of the whole dadblasted thing. June is so adorable, and John is so handsome. (That’s what I called him, John.) But mainly, it’s classic because no matter how big and how famous she got, how many fancy houses and cars and all that, she was still that little honey who started out with her family, performing. I love u, June. (John, too.)

That’s right, I just do not know when to stop. Last one. I promise. Look for that sexy little vixen Tammy Wynette, and my friend John with a pie in his hand.

She’s reviewing big girl boudoir toys over on her blog. She kills me, with the descriptions. Yummy pink!

I will continue to write about… yummy pink sugar cookies. Yes, we need all kinds of writing in this world, yes we do. Hmm. Here’s a question: If you gave me a choice right now between a yummy pink sugar cookie and nooky, what would I take?

Both.

Here’s a thought: For those of you who are long-time readers of blogs (lurkers or not), have your blog needs changed? My writing has changed a lot in five years, mebbe not for the better, who can tell? But I’m going to the blogs for different things now: Less parenting advice, more recipes; less for the serious stuff, more for the humor. It’s not that I don’t need or want the parenting advice, I do. Oh, I do. But I’m not finding as much as I’d like for parents of tweens.

So… why do you go read around?

My Dear Granny has been gone almost seven months now. (Do you need her recipe for Lemon Bundt Cake with Orange Glaze Heartbreak?) We made it through the first Mother’s Day without her, her birthday, most of our birthdays… now the big holidays are coming up. And my sister’s wedding. My stupid surgery. My lungs hurt, and I’m always such a baby when I’m sick. Seriously, I alternate between calling my mom, my grandma, and my girlfriends. Steve and the kids totally baby me. I get bronchitis and pneumonia is why.

I could write an essay, “What Getting a Cold Means to Me: Fear of Bronchial Pneumonia.”

I’ve gotten bronchitis once, twice, three times a year, pretty much, since I was 12. Once in awhile I go for two or three years with just little colds, nothing more, I’m all yes, no more bronchitis, my lungs are strong, then boom. I get worried the antibiotics won’t work. If it’s viral, they don’t do anything, anyway. So I’m thinking of all those times when it was probably viral and the doctors and I panicked, treated with antibiotics, anyway.

Who knows what the hell to do when your lungs betray you.

“Girl, you’re burning the candle at both ends,” was what my Granny would tell me. “That’s why you get bronchitis.”

Colds without laryngitis, she was convinced, did not lead to bronchitis. Laryngitis = bronchitis. I must say, she has been right on that one every time. Ah, well. We’ll see, okay? I have been losing my voice off and on the last couple of weeks. I talk too much, anyway. haha. Can always blog.

I got the nicest e-mail the other night, from a lady my Granny went to church with. She wanted to know, have I finished Granny’s cookbook yet? (That I started, what, five years ago?) No, I have not. It was like getting an e-mail kick in the pants, which I needed, ha.

I love this lady. She and my Granny talked on the phone often, she said, especially Sunday night, when they would discuss the sermon at church. They worked on the senior luncheons and holiday luncheons together.

“I loved her outlook on life. I thoroughly enjoyed her commentary on life. And I miss her encouragement and good humor about life. Losing her has been a tremendous loss for a lot of us.”

Yeah. I just smiled and got misty all the way through this e-mail — it was like getting a hug from my Granny. Then she gave me some recipes, and told me to let her know when we get the cookbook done. (I’m hoping we finish it over the holidays — just need to cut and paste the files together. I think we’re going to do it as an on-demand print job through Cafe Press.)

love,

wm

Apple Pizza

Crust (or make pastry for 2-crust pie)

Add the first 4 ingredients and mix with a pastry blender or fork until fine grained:

2 c. flour, sifted

3/4 c. shortening

1 2 tsp. sugar

1 tsp. salt

In separate dish, mix these 3:

2 egg (2 T.)

2 tsp. vinegar

3 c. cold water

Add the egg and water mixture to the flour mixture. Gather dough together so it cleans the bowl. Chill at least 15 minutes.

Cinnamon mixture

2 c. sugar

1 tsp. cinnamon

3 tsp. nutmeg

Mix these 3 together.

Apples — 4-5 peeled and finely sliced.

Topping

Blend together:

1 c. flour

2 c. sugar

2 c. margarine

Roll pastry to about 15-inch circle on cookie sheet or pizza pan.

Slice apples on top.

Sprinkle cinnamon mixture over topping.

Sprinkle on topping mixture. Bake 20-25 min. at 450 E . (Check at 15 min. — you don’t want it to get too brown.)

GRAMA’S SUGAR COOKIES

Beat well:

1 c. sugar

1 c. butter (2 cubes)

2 tsp. vanilla

1 egg

Sift:

3 c. flour

2 tsp. cream of tartar

2 tsp. baking soda

Add to sugar mixture and mix well.

Drop by large spoonsful onto greased cookie sheet. Flatten with a greased glass dipped in sugar. Bake at 400 E for 8-10 min. (watch carefully) or until lightly browned. ENJOY!

UNSTUFFED PEPPER SOUP

2 lbs. ground beef

3 large green peppers, chopped

1 large onion, chopped

2 cans (14 2 oz.) beef broth

2 cans condensed tomato soup (undiluted)

1 can (28 oz.) crushed tomatoes, undrained

1 can (4 oz.) mushroom stems & pieces, drained

2 cups cooked rice

In a Dutch oven or large saucepan, cook the beef, green peppers and onions until meat isn’t pink. Drain off fat. Stir in broth, soup, tomatoes and mushrooms. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for at least 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add rice, heat through and serve.

Yield: 10 servings

what is it with Mondays around here?

1) i’m home sick from work today and tomorrow, trying not to slip over into bronchitis, cuz The Thing I’ve had for a month has moved into my lungs

2) i’m wheezing

3) i heard from the doc’s office — they found “abnormal endometrial cells” on my cervix. Isn’t the first time for this, but hopefully if I get all better by next month and can have surgery, it will be the last time for this kind of call.

4) if i’m sick, no surgery; if i have no surgery, i’m sick (exhaustion, anemia, cancer worries)

5) doesn’t this all just suck?

6) there has been a big windstorm all day and it’s kinda freaking me out, what with all the crashing and blowing

7) i didn’t get one of the grants i applied for for my library. jury is still out on other two grants.

8) on a bright note — steve and the kids are my favorite thing in life. they are sweet, funny, and know when to worry and when to breathe. (unlike me.) their love and enthusiasm keeps me going every day.

9) i’m really happy that my sis and the Red-Headed Guy are getting married next month. And guess what? My job is to provide the cupcakes for the wedding. With that in mind, they bought me my very own Cupcake Carrier. Do we need the Tree Stand, do you think? Or just arrange on platters? Oh, frosting. Oh, love. Oh, a Christmas wedding, so cool. Magic, magic, magic.

10) i’m also losing weight, cuz i’m worried all the time and don’t want to eat. that’s something. argggggggggggggghhhh. OK. Make it positive, girl. I love the Wii-Fit and the Wii-Fit Plus they are the best, funnest work-out ever. The end.

11) c’mon get happy.

love,

wm

And, because sometimes it’s not:

And, because this one is always true:

I always thought Danny was highly underrated as a bass player, didn’t you?

edited at 7:30 p.m. to say:

* one doctor wants me to come in so they can listen to me wheeze; other doc is on vacation for a week. the cells are probably… nothing. and if they are something? will deal.

* fixed vegetarian meatloaf, polenta and broc, an old favorite, for dinner. kids were not amused.

* climbing back in bed. have a good night, y’all.

Steve never takes me out. It’s why I’m so cranky. That, and the fact that my children refuse to eat anything besides spaghetti, mac n cheese n pizza and never want to watch anything except ICarly & that idiot SpongeBob Squarepants. Last night… we went out with our friends. Add it up:

sitter: 42 bucks
drinks/dinner at Pause: 50 bucks
attending our friend Tony’s art exhibit: 0 bucks because we are cheap and by we i mean Steven and didn’t buy anything
20 miniature candy bars we scarfed at exhibit: 0 bucks, they were free
drinks/appetizers at the Spaceroom which is remodeled but don’t worry, the light fixtures and murals are the same, they only messed with the back room: 30
watching Tony moonwalk across the Spaceroom’s floor because Steve heard a Pat Benatar song blasting and thought it was Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”: priceless

(Moonwalking? Spaceroom? Get it?)

We had so much fun.

ps steve it’s almost your birthday. i have no idea how old you will be this year, but i want to tell you, Happy birthday, big lover man.

“Don’t surrender your loneliness / So quickly. / Let it cut more deeply. / Let it ferment and season you / As few human / Or even divine ingredients can.”
— Hafez, poet (1315-1390)

* can’t talk about some things because. you know. let’s not get dooced.

* can’t write about other things because. you know. i have a 7-year-old, a 10-year-old and a husband who like their privacy. and would appreciate it if i told their side of things, sometimes.

* i can’t. they can just take comfort in knowing that i try, every day, to NOT talk about them — with co-workers, with friends, with family, with Internets. Years of therapy? I’m paying for my own, can’t afford anyone else’s.

* met with my surgeon/doc today for “pre-op” appointment. For those of you not “in the know,” that means “pre-operation” appointment that you go to before they slice into you, where you discuss pain meds; the need to avoid tylenol and aspirin for two weeks beforehand; how you “probably” won’t have to stay the night; how much better you’ll feel, after; how you’re not supposed to eat anything 12 hours prior to surgery. (This means I’m supposed to stay up til 2 a.m. — doc’s words — to have “a little something,” since the surgery isn’t skedded til 2 in the afternoon.)

* i can barely stay awake past 7:30 p.m. This should be interesting.

* also, if you’re me at least, and i know i am, you will discuss how “great” it is that your blood pressure is only 90/60. Haha! I work out! I take beta-blockers! I am a calm, stress-less person! Pop quiz: which of those statements is “fact”? Give up…????

* Two are fact; one is fiction.

* Now can you get it?

* I am probably one of the most tense, stressed-out people you could ever meet. True. That. True, that. True, that, to infinity and beyond. I am not proud of this, i am ashamed of it. I do not wear it on my sleeve like a badge of courage. It’s the reason why I try to eat right, get some kind of exercise every day, write in my journal, have a job i love, spend time with my family and friends who are all really nice, cool people. I don’t have an addiction to deal with, domestic abuse, a terminal illness. I have lost too many people, but honestly, haven’t we all? We all have had our losses.

* So when the medical assistant took my blood pressure, which i was convinced was going to be SKYROCKETING because i had HORRIBLE DAY — well. SKYROCKETING for me would mean 120/80 or something. Maybe 125/85 if I was just furious or something. I have this super-low blood pressure. Which is why i’m dizzy all the time. Also I take a beta-blocker, because I have funky heart condition. Because the thyroid issues and the girly issues weren’t enough, I suppose.

* Imagine my surprise when it was 88/58. The M.A. was a little worried. Said that would explain why I feel faint sometimes. “This, right here? This is the most pissed-off you are ever going to see me!” i told her. “OK, tell me about your day, then we’ll take it again.” hahahaha. I like that girl, she’s funny.

* “And THEN, and THEN, and SURGERY, and etc….” That’s how we got my BP up to 90/60, folks. It is good to have low blood pressure. It is not good to be close to passing out. i remember after giving birth to my baby girl, my BP went TUMBLING DOWN THE STAIRCASE and hit AN ALL-TIME LOW of 70 or 75 or something, over 47.

* Over 47, peeps. The monitor was all BEEPBEEPBEEPSHESDEADCOMEGETHEROUTOFHEREBEEPBEEPWENEEDTHEROOM
FORSOMEONEELSEGETAGURNEY and Steve kept flashing my pregnancy journal at them, w/ all the doc visit info, and the various BPs from throughout the months (we brought it because it was where we were scribbling, when we were timing contractions, i think? who knows.) And poor Steve kept gesturing, Here, here, and here, LOOK! SHE JUST HAS REALLY LOW BLOOD PRESSURE, SHE’S NOT DYING.

* Did I have a point with this post? the bullets? the ranting?

* Yes.

* Doc says tylenol = bad, bad, bad; morphine = good, good, good. Well. That has always been my motto, so I’m glad the Medical Community is finally catching up. Seriously — the “talk-talk” going around now is that we all, right here, right now, have ENOUGH TYLENOL IN OUR SYSTEMS TO LAST US A LIFETIME. Can i make that any CAPPIER for you? All kinds of people (who shouldn’t be, who are otherwise healthy) are showing up with liver disease and failure, cuz of TOO MUCH TYLENOL.

* interesting.

* But it’s okay, while i’m healing up, if i need morphine. only my BP will probably drop even lower, which could be, y’know. Problematic.

* think they’d let me bring one of those handy little machines home with me, just in case?

love,

wm

ps i always feel the need to give this disclaimer: i am no medical professional, go find yourself one if you need one.

pss — “Now, I’m not a pharmacist…” — comedian Kathy Griffin

ppss just remember: tylenol = bad; morphine = good

I love this video. Brad Paisley, Costanza, Costanza’s ma, Captain Kirk, Marcia Brady… it really does have it all. hahaha. Enjoy.

happy Wednesday to you.

— wm

…hearing these words:

“The role of Lucky Spencer is now being played by Jonathan Jackson.”

i love you all over again, General Hospital.

— wm

ps really missing facebook, just fyi. you know what they say in Texas: que sara sara.

that’s all.

wm