My Heart Condition- Revised

Remember back in April when I said I had a heart condition? Back then, I was referring to my grandsons and the way they fill my heart with love and pride.

Well guess what....turns out I really DO have a heart condition. That's why I've been gone for so long, dear readers.

For several months, I was feeling really crappy. No energy, no desire to do the things I like to do, sleepy all the time, but afraid to go to sleep at night for fear I wouldn't wake up....generally felt like death warmed over.

Every night I would struggle for breath as I tried to sleep. Dave would hear me snoring and gasping all the way into the living room.

Then came the night of November 6th. I got up about 4am and told Dave that I just didn't have enough breath to go to sleep, and we needed to call for help

The paramedics came and took my vitals and then bundled me up for the ride to the hospital. Back when I had my gall bladder attack a couple of years ago, they took me to the #2 crappy hospital here in town. This time they said we were going to Riverside Community Hospital, the big nice one, with the cardiac department.

I got to the ER with a heart rate of 163 and irregular. This wasn't good. My heart rate should only be between 50-60, and should be regular. I was in trouble.

I was moved to the cardiac unit where I was hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires. Some to monitor what was going IN to my body, some to measure what was coming OUT. EKGs, Xrays, breathing treatments.

At first they said I had sleep apnea, but you can't diagnose that without a sleep study. Then they said I had asthma.

For 6 days they tried to get my heart beats to go down and stay down. The 'go down' was the easy part. The 'stay down' gave us trouble.

I was finally moved to a regular room, but 24 hours later, I went back to the cardiac ward. Somebody jumped the gun with that move. I wasn't stable enough.

After 5 more days, I was ready to go back to a regular room. Breathing without oxygen assistance, heart rate regular, medications finally figured out.

I came home on the 21st just before 10PM. In time for Thanksgiving. Weak as a kitten after 15 days. When I went in, I knew I didn't feel good, but I had no idea how sick I was. I expected to stay a day or two, but never thought I'd have to stay that long. I was sent home with a walker, but only needed that for the first 3 days.

 Even a month later, I still get tired easily, but I'm almost back to my old self again. I have COPD from being a smoker for so long. I quit for good 6 years ago, but damage of the 30 years before that was already done. I have congestive heart failure from the fluid that collects around my heart and makes it have to work hard, and I have atrial fibrillation, which is the irregular heart beat. I used to take one pill a day for my blood pressure. Now I take 5 1/2 pills in the morning and 1 1/2 at bedtime.

I will say this for Riverside Community Hospital. I stayed there 4 years ago when I had pneumonia (See my story about Nurse = Angel). Back then the care was ok, but the food was horrid. This time, I feel like I got very good care, on most of the shifts. I came to know the nurses and techs by name, and they knew me. Some would come in just to see how I was before they left. They revamped the kitchen a couple of months before my stay, and the food was delicious. They gave you a menu and then would call you every day to see what  you wanted to eat for breakfast lunch and dinner. The kitchen staff was aware of any special dietary restrictions, and would tell you if you went over you allowance. There wasn't anything on the menu that I didn't enjoy. They made a better pot roast than I can.

So, my friends...this is what I've been up to, and why I've been gone so long. Thanksgiving, my birthday, and Christmas have all passed, but the New Year is coming up next week. I wish you all the very best in 2013 and please....keep reading!!!

Why I Stay Out Of Margaritaville

I mentioned to a friend the other day my first and last encounter with a "Cadillac Margarita". To the best of my recollection, this is a gallon-sized glass of margarita with a shot of some kind of molten lava poured on top.

She asked for the 'rest of the story', so here goes:

Dave and I had spent a fun day at Universal Studios in LA. Only about an hour's drive from home. We were hungry so we decided to make a little detour and go to one of our favorite Mexican restaurants, called El Perico Ranchero in Upland.
While we were waiting for a table, I kept seeing these huge glasses leaving the bar area. I told Dave I wanted one of those. Why not? I wasn't driving. And it had been a long day.

We were seated and ordered our drinks and our dinner.The drinks came first. BIG mistake. It had been hours since we ate, and we were exhausted from our day of fun. I poured my shot of lava on top of my margarita and took a sip. I thought my throat was on fire. The icy part of the drink quickly cooled it, and I had another sip. By the time our dinner came, I had drank maybe an inch from the top of the glass. And I was woozy.

I told Dave I had to step outside for some air. I went out to the porch and had a smoke and thought I was calmed enough to come back inside. I wasn't.

I had to escape or die. I told Dave that I was going to the car, but he should stay and enjoy his meal. The waitress asked if I was ok, and he said I just needed some air, so he had my dinner wrapped, while he ate his own, drank his margarita, mine, and the shot of lava given to him by the guy at the next table.

Since it takes a boatload of alcohol to even phase Dave, he was fine for the drive home. I woke up when he got in and we started the 1/2 hour drive home.

Then.....they caught my eye....Christmas decorations....everywhere. In yards, on rooftops...I was compelled to share the wonder of it all with Dave so I started pointing them out to him....all of them...block after block after block....

me: "Snowman"
Dave: Yes, that's a snowman.
me: "Santa"
Dave: Yep
me: Grrrrrinch
Dave: Hmm
me: Stop sign (!?!?!)
Dave: Baby, shut up.
me: ZZZzzzzzzz

I took a vow that night. Well the next morning, anyway.....never to drink tequila again. I don't care if it's a Cadillac, a Rolls Royce, or a Volkswagon...NEVER AGAIN!!

A Wrinkle in Time....

I've been thinking about wrinkles lately. As much as I've tried to keep mine invisible by filling them in with fat, I still am starting to see some on my face and especially on my hands.

This got me to noticing other people's wrinkles. I've discovered that a person's wrinkles can reflect their personality.

For example, there are people who live here at Limpdik Park who are happy and cheerful all the time. Their wrinkles are at the corner of their eyes, and beside their mouth, indicating they've spent a lot of their lifetime smiling.

There is also one woman in particular, who likes nothing better than to say something snotty every time she sees me. She even chastised me for riding my powerchair down to the office barefooted. FOR SHAME!!

Anyway, her wrinkles are concentrated around her mouth, like she has spent her life with pursed lips, disapproving of everything. Almost like something has smelled bad for the past 80  years.

Check out your wrinkles, if you have any. What will they say about you in your later years?  I hope mine are in a happy place.

The Power of Prayer

Sorry I haven't been adding much lately...I haven't felt well in body or spirit. Pray for me, ok?

And speaking of prayer, that's what I want to talk about right now.

Yesterday, a friend was telling a chat room that her horse got into some grain and was sick and it could become very serious. The horse was being walked and given water, but the best thing would be to hear bowel sounds and to actually get her to poop would be wonderful.

Several of us chatters said we would pray for her recovery. As I left the room, I said "Pray for poop!". Others agreed.

Well, one chatter told me, in no uncertain terms, that she had a certain number of people and things she prayed for, and she refused to pray for horse poop.

Now, I see nothing wrong with being specific when you pray. I know we're taught to pray that God's will be done...that's a given...God's gonna do what He wants to do, when He wants to do it.

My former pastor...the same one who told me that Christian and doormat are two very different things....once said that it's perfectly ok to tell God exactly what it is you want, even though He already knows. And I feel better doing that.

Also, I don't have a limit on how many people and things I will pray about or for. Some things are every day prayers. I pray for my sister and my brother, my sons and grandsons, and the rest of my family and friends. I pray for the people that I know are sick in mind, body or spirit. I pray to thank God for providing for my needs...that never ceases to amaze me. I thank Him for a good night sleep and for keeping my kids and grandkids safe.I pray for the Friends of Felines Rescue Center and the volunteers there and the  kitties. I pray for Dave always.

There are some days that the words just won't come to my mind, and my prayer is just a groan, and the Spirit intercedes for me. And that's ok too.

I believe in prayer. I believe that all prayers are answered, even if the answer is No, or Wait. I believe that prayer is powerful and when you get a bunch of people together praying for one thing, anything is possible.

Now, I know some of my friends and maybe family too, may not agree with me on this...but that's ok...and because I am a Bible reading, hymn singing, praying woman........I'll pray for them. :-)


(By the way...the horse pooped and is fine today. Thank you, Lord, for poop!)

Sisters in Crime

Somebody said the other day, in a Facebook post, that my sister was my partner in crime.

I don't know that I would go that far, we never actually got charged with anything, but we have been through a lot in our years together.

It all started in 1955 when I invaded her life, and she became the oldest of three children, instead of two.  She was 7 years old when I came along.

She was my protector and my antagonist. I remember the three of us would cower behind the bedroom door when Mother and Daddy were having an argument. She would hold me and try to keep me from crying.
She also was the ring leader of our horsey games, where she and He Who Shan't Be Named were beautiful stallions and I was the pack mule. Seems I would do anything for a sugar bit.

As we grew older, I admired her from afar. There is a huge difference between being 9 years old and being 16 years old. I'm sure she hated sharing a  bedroom with  me, but it couldn't be helped.

Then I started getting older. And I know she resented some of the things that I was allowed to do at an earlier age than she was.

She was brilliant, but she worked very hard for her scholarship and for her awards. She carried home armloads of books every night, and stayed up til the wee hours studying. I barely cracked a book and got by just fine. I wasn't as interested in the highest grades, I just wanted to pass.

She wasn't allowed to wear makeup til she was 16. I was wearing false eyelashes at 14. She didn't date til she was 16. I married at 16. I blame this on the fact that society, as a whole, was very different after 1969...the summer of love...the summer we landed on the moon...the summer of Woodstock and of innocence lost at the hands of the Manson gang. She was 16 in 1964....I was 16 in 1971. Very different times.

As the years passed,  the gap began to close up. Not entirely, but it was starting to. There are still things that I am ashamed of to this day.
I'm sorry that I snapped at my husband and He Who Shan't Be Named at her wedding. Seems there really WAS a bug on my hat when they were trying to take pictures.
I'm sorry that Mother's situation spilled over to me and colored my reaction to the awkward position she was in. One of my life's biggest regrets is that, because of that, I didn't invite her to my wedding. I hope she has forgiven me for that.
I'm sorry that I allowed my husband to isolate me and keep me and my children away from the rest of my family, to the point that they can count on one hand the times they got to visit their aunt.

Aw well....enough.....back to the partners in crime. Once we were both grown, that gap, as I said, closed up.
She took me to the bars and dance halls when I was under age, advising me to just stroll in like I owned the place.

She had a friend one time that she wanted to play a practical joke on. She had me write him a long detailed letter, as if I were a young, beautiful widow woman, in need of a strong handsome cowboy type handyman to help me run my ranch, and take care of the twins, Hanna and Barberra. The job came with 'benefits'. We had him chomping at the bit for a while over the prospect.

It was tradition that she would take me along when it was time to pick out new glasses frames. There were several stores along Camp Bowie Boulevard that sold the best designer frames. We would go in and have every intention of being serious about the whole thing, but something would overcome us, and I'd start handing her rhinestone cat frames, and purple frames and Sally Jesse Raphael frames....and we'd giggle....and giggle....until one time, the proprietor of one such hotsy totsy place, actually asked us to leave, because we were not taking our shopping seriously enough.

We also liked the Hallmark Shops. Did you know that 9 out of 10 greeting cards have the same rhythm to their rhyme? They do....try it some time...we did...across the aisles.

*+*+*opens card*+*+
Da DA da DA da DA da da
Da DA da DA da DA.
Da DA da DA da DA da da
Da DA da DA da DA!!

More giggles....more nasty looks from sales clerks....more fun.

Unfortunately we were never able to pull off what would have been our piece de resistance of pranks.
I was going to dress in my frilliest, girliest dress, the picture of femininity.  Pam was going to wear her boots and jeans and a pearl snap shirt, with her cowboy hat. The picture of ....well....not feminine.
She would open my car door, light my cigarette, open the shop doors, be very solicitous of my needs....

And we were going to go downtown to the Christian Science Reading Room and hold hands.

It would have been funny back in the 70's....no one would notice now.

They say when you get older you start to relive your childhood....hmmmm...I wonder what we could get into now..... ;-)

Throw Me INTO the Bus

As my loyal readers know, I quit driving and gave up the car almost 2 years ago. Since then, Dave and I have relied on our powerchairs, and on the Senior/Disability bus to get around. That is all about to change.

I never rode a bus unless it was going on a school field trip. But last Thursday, we took a class given by the Riverside Transit Agency, to teach us how to navigate the city on the regular bus routes.

I have been terrified that if I got ON the bus, and went somewhere, I would never get back on the right bus to get me home, and I would be lost...wandering the city forever, at the mercy of all the no-good-nicks, and the things that go bump after dark.

But now, with the help of this class, Dave and I can greatly expand our world. Oh, we could go wherever we wanted to , within the city, but we had to schedule a senior bus 2 days in advance, and pay $2 each way, per person. Kinda takes the fun out of a trip to WalMart when you have to pay $8 just to get there and back.

Now,. we can go right outside the gate to our complex, get on the #13W bus, and be at WalMart in about 30 minutes. And that bus will even kneel down to let us ride our chairs up on it.

 We have one more class, and that will be to take an actual ride somewhere in the city. (We rode an Out Of Service bus for the first class.) We all agreed that we would meet bright and early and go to Norm's for breakfast. Then we will either all ride home together, or we can break off and come home on our own. That's what Dave and I plan to do. We'll cross the street and go to Michael's, and then go down the street to the mall, and catch the bus for home there. We will also be given a free 30 day pass that day.

I now feel so confident that I can do this bus thing, that I agreed to be the 'ambassador' of our class. All I have to do is arrange a bus trip with at least one other person (Dave counts) at least once a month, and they will continue to  renew my pass for free. I can do that. Dave's pass will cost him $16 a month for a senior resident. Unlimited use.

I'm so excited to finish this class tomorrow. I've already had two of my friends ask me to take them with me on a bus ride. I can't wait to go to some of the places I've missed the past two years. I feel like we've regained some of the independence we lost when we gave up the car.

Wish me luck!!!

A Bunch of Random Thoughts

Jiminy Cricket, it's been almost a month since I wrote anything. It's not that I've been really busy or anything. I spend a lot of time fooling around on Facebook, and playing games. I just haven't put anything down.

I have been crocheting more than usual lately. Here is one thing I made. It's a baby bikini set, for my BFF Yvonne's granddaughter, Kolbi. She's going to send me a picture of her wearing it. (Soon, I hope).

 I also made this bottle holder for my friend Marilyn. She's in our Thursday afternoon crochet club. She always came with her water bottle in a tube sock, and I got tired of looking at that danged sock.

Right now, I'm working on something else, that I can't show you. I've decided to make my sister Pam my guinea pig. When I see something cute I want to make, I'm just going to make it and send it to her. I think she'll like this next thing a lot. I should finish it in a week or so.

I know, a week sounds like a long time. I'm in a crochet group online, and those women amaze me. They are soooo fast, and they make up their own patterns, and most of them do it with multiple children crawling around their feet. Heck, there are days I choose between crocheting and getting dressed. Multitasking is not my strong point. I've seen one of them post a picture of a beautiful baby dress and say, "Oh I did this up last night and....." Last night?!?!?....I was lucky to do 4 rows last night. Or..."I've finished 35 of these hats, and I have another 70 to go..." YIKES!! Do you know how long it would take me to do 35 hats???
Oh well....I think if I tried to do things any faster, it would stress me out, and that would defeat the purpose of crocheting for me.

Another thing:
I've been thinking about some of the posts that my younger friends make on Facebook, and it brought these thoughts to mind. I wish I could get them to all people on their 14th birthday.

Girls, if you don't want people calling you a slut, quit dressing like one, quit bragging about what a bitch you are (it's NOT a good thing), and clean up your language. Be more particular about who you lie down with. Respect yourself so others will respect you.

Boys, if you don't want people treating you like a criminal, quit dressing like one, peeking out from under dark hoods when it's 90 degrees outside. Stand up straight and look people in the eye. Quit throwing stupid gang hand signals that you probably don't even know the meaning of, pull up your pants, and clean up your language. Being a man means more than how many women you can score with. Respect is earned by being respectful.

Another thing:
All You Can Eat and Three Course Dinner for $ are wasted on me. To look at me, you'd think that I could really put it away, but truth be told, I can't eat very much at a time. So those places that offer soup or salad and biscuits and then an entree and dessert...oh my goodness...I'm usually full after the salad and the biscuit! I wish restaurants would cut down the portion and give it to me cheaper! I order from the Senior menu when it's available, but some places don't have one, or they only offer a few things on it.

And another thing:
Speaking of discounts, why is it that some people object to using a coupon when going out? I don't mean use the BOGO coupon on a first date, but if you've been going out a while, what's wrong with saving a little money? I don't like paying full price for anything...I'm going to look for a bargain. And if I were back in the dating pool, I'd be the first to whip out my Entertainment Book.

More:
I think we need to look into Netflix. We have all of the premium channels and we pay out the wazoo for them, along with the HD box and all the HD channels (which shouldn't cost extra, IMHO). Our cable bill is second in cost only to our rent. And yet, the majority of the movies on HBO and SHO and ENC and TMC and CIN are 20 years old or older. Dave watches movies all day long (while he crochets). Sometimes he'll watch the same movie more than once a day, and always more than once a week. I get bored with that. There is only a handful of movies that I want to watch more than once EVER. (Same Time Next Year, Terms of Endearment, Resurrection, Christmas Vacation, and a few classics)

Goes Without Saying:
Our cats are spoiled.
Our grandchildren are gorgeous and brilliant and perfect in every way.
We live among Loony Tunes here at Limpdik Park.
After 9 years together, we still love each other, and we haven't run out of things to talk about and there is nothing we won't do for each other, no matter how gross.
We are blessed beyond all understanding.

Storms

Many years ago I lived in a small town in Texas smack dab in Tornado Alley. Storms didn't much bother me until the night that Wichita Falls was hit so bad. April 10, 1979. Terrible Tuesday. We got hit pretty bad that night too, 60 miles away

.

From that night on, I was terrified at the threat of severe storms. If the forecast said "Partly cloudy with a chance of storms, some possibly severe", I got the closet ready. It got to the point with me, that I couldn't enjoy a beautiful Texas spring day, cause I was worried about that "some possibly severe" thing. My eyes didn't see white puffy clouds, my eyes saw black swirling clouds. I spent way too much time going from window to window to door, checking the sky. I  even went to a counselor to try to get over this fear.

One day I woke up really late. Jim (the ex) was home and had Joe out on the front porch. It was about 10am but it was dark as night. I was terrified. I got the closet ready while they went to the donut shop down the street, oblivious to our impending doom. I curled up on the couch. I called my counselor. She said, "I don't know what to tell ya hon, I've been to the cellar 3 times myself today." I was on my own.

I made it through that scary day, and one day found myself in the craft section of a local store. There it was. A needlepoint kit for a pillow with the best advice I'd ever heard on it. It said....YOU CAN'T CHANGE THE PAST, BUT YOU CAN RUIN THE PRESENT, BY WORRYING ABOUT THE FUTURE.

Omg...did that ever speak to ME!...It was just what I needed to hear. Why had nobody said that to me before? Anyway, I bought the kit, whipped it together, and built a frame for it and hung it on my wall. From that day on, no matter how many times we moved, it was the last thing packed, and the first thing unpacked. Those 16 simple words even helped my son get over his own fear of storms, years later.

I found out that my fear was because I liked to be in control. And I could not control the weather. Once I quit fretting over what I couldn't control, and let God control it, my fear was gone. I even sat on the back porch and watched a tornado skip down the highway behind my house, not 100 yards away. This was March 2000 when downtown Ft Worth got torn up.

Oh, I still have a healthy respect for storms, but I was no longer paralyzed by a fear of "what if". No more getting the closet ready before it was necessary. No more tummy knots.

My fear was probably more than most people's, but if those words can help you through some tough days....I'm glad I told you my story.

YOU CAN'T CHANGE THE PAST, BUT YOU CAN RUIN THE PRESENT, BY WORRYING ABOUT THE FUTURE.

I Now Pronounce You ......

....BROKE!!!


Since when did weddings become these huge sit-down-dinner, all-night-long affairs?


Reality TV addict that I am, I've been watching this show called Four Weddings. In case you haven't seen it, there are 4 brides who attend each other's weddings and then rate their 'overall experience' on a scale of 1-10. Then they critique the dress, the venue, and the food. Everything is added up later and the winner gets to watch her groom step out of a limo with flowers and a card telling them where they are going on a dream honeymoon. Which is a good thing, because after these horribly expensive affairs, who can afford a honeymoon?

Oh my garsh, you should see some of these weddings. They start out with a fairly  normal ceremony. The 3 'guest brides' usually have something nasty to say about the weather or the decorations or the seating. Then they move into 'cocktail hour'. What the hell?!?!? Cocktail hour???? Appetizers and some sort of silly 'signature drink' that was created especially for the bride and groom. This is where the guest brides really unload their opinions. One bad cocktail hour can ruin their whole 'overall experience'.

Then it's on to the reception, where we get a fist-pumping entrance by the newlyweds. Sometimes the new Mrs. has even changed her dress so that she can get her groove on. When a wedding dress costs a minimum of $2000 (See: Say Yes To The Dress) who can afford a second dress?


And that's another thing....when did wedding dresses lose their meaning? They were supposed to show the bride as sweet and innocent and virginal, even if she was a Bridezilla.  Now they all have that horrid mermaid shape that only looks good on 2% of the population, I don't care how proud you are of your 'curves' (AKA: tits) Who can sit in one of those, much less dance? And WHITE, ladies. Not red, not turquoise, not black.....white.

Back to the reception....it's time for dinner. Dinner. When did a wedding reception start requiring a sit down dinner...with your choice of entrees? Steak, chicken or fish. With potatoes and a veg on the side. Oh and if it comes to the table less than piping hot and perfectly seasoned, you can bet those 3 guest brides will have plenty to say about it.

Dinner is followed by a few hours of music chosen by some random DJ for the sole reason of getting all the drunken masses out on the dance floor to sweat out some of the free booze.Whatever happened to a nice waltz or the Father's dance or even the bride and groom swaying back and forth, trying not to step on toes, and gazing into each other's eyes, oblivious to the crowd around them? 

So..now it seems that the average small wedding costs at least $10,000 and lasts most of the afternoon and into the night. I don't mean to sound selfish, but I'd rather have a simple ceremony and reception, and spend the rest of it on the honeymoon.


When I got married in 1972, in my beautiful white A-line dress, there was no cocktail hour, no DJ, no sit down dinner. My guests came because they wanted to share our happiness, not be spoiled and entertained. My reception lasted maybe 30 minutes. We cut the cake, the guests were served cake, punch, mixed nuts and butter mints. All on one plate....keep the line moving please, we've got better things to do than hang around and entertain everyone. Like leaving for our dream honeymoon at the Desert Village Motel out on Highway 80 West. Wonder how the guest brides would score that?

Don't Pay The Ransom, Honey.....

I've escaped!!

Felony kidnapping is the only excuse I can come up with for not writing in so long.

Everybody here at Limpdik Park had been behaving themselves. Monday bingo keeps them off the streets and out of trouble, so nothing to write about there. Maybe when the weather changes the LoonyTunes will emerge again.

Seems like all I do is either cook, or clean up from cooking. I kinda wish we could  have our meals like the gum that Violet chewed in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Just chew a while and you get a full 4 course meal. No cooking, no cleaning up. Of course the blue puffy thing would be kind of a bummer.

My Dave has started writing a blog called All Things 49. It's very interesting. It's all about his life (he was born in 1949)...his love of the San Francisco 49ers (in their heyday, anyway)....and the years he spent prospecting for gold (like the original gold rush 49ers). He tells interesting stories, but he does tend to ramble sometimes, so  I've been doing a lot of editing for him. Feel free to pop on over there and take a look. We're still working on jazzing the place up, so forgive the blank walls.

http://bigd49blog.blogspot.com/

My reality shows are all on right now, so I have to watch those:

The Next Food Network Star...Masterchef...Hell's Kitchen...Design Star...The Bachelorette....plus there are new ones about to start...like Craft Wars...that one looks good.

I've been crocheting a lot lately. Here is the latest thing I made. It's for my BFF Yvonne's baby granddaughter, Kolbi. She's 8 months old. It's a bikini, sunhat, and sandals. I can feel my hands getting worse, so I think I'm trying to do all I can, while I can.

Well, the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow, so I'd better go tidy up the kitchen and swish a brush in the toilet.....Yeah I know...but there are some things you just don't want other people to see.

Dave's Birthday Brunch

This past Sunday, Dave and our friends, Jan and Alan went to a new restaurant here in town, called Mazz, to celebrate Dave's 63rd birthday. That was our actual table, right there in the front of the picture.

They offered a champagne brunch for $18 per person. We rolled in, Dave in his powerchair, Jan with her rolling walker, and me on my cane (my chair is in the shop). Alan was the only able-bodied one among us.  A lot of places don't like having to move chairs around for us, but this staff didn't bat an eye. Everywhere we turned, someone was offering to carry plates from the buffet for us. They just bent over backwards to make us comfortable.


The food....oh my goodness....the food. SIIIIIGH. Roast beef that melted in your mouth like buttah. Perfect pasta with two sauces, the alfredo was my favorite. Roasted chicken and vegetables, baked tilapia that was the best I've ever had. An omelet station, tacos, fresh fruits, mini desserts, and a mountain of peel and eat shrimp. I can embarrass myself with peel and eat shrimp. Plus, the champagne bottle was bottomless. As soon as our glass was down an inch, there was an arm with a bottle at the end of it, filling it up.


Just when we thought the day couldn't get any better, the time came to pay our bill. Our server brought over that little leather folder, and we all waited for her to ask if we wanted separate checks. Instead, she told us the most unexpected news...


"There was a man in the party at the table behind you....he's already gone...but he paid your entire bill, including taking care of me."


WHAT?!?!?!?...Who was he???....We called over the manager, but he assured us the man wanted to be anonymous. 


Why did he do this???.....did he see 4 senior citizens, 3 of us disabled and feel sorry for us??....Did he hear us toasting Dave and know we were having a special occasion that was probably a little out of our budgets?....Did he assume Dave was a veteran, with his flag on his chair and his camo hat?....Did I remind him of his MeeMaw??


Or was this just a random act of kindness....someone "paying it forward".


We'll never know who our anonymous host was, or why he chose us to treat that day...but we hope that this blessing comes back to him ten-fold.


I'm still trying to pick my chin up off the floor.

The Costco Experience

I've just come back from my second-time-ever trip to Costco. It may be called something else in your neck of the woods....Sam's Club, Acre-O-Food, etc., but you know the place. That warehouse store where you shop with a pallet jack instead of a shopping cart.

There were good things and bad things about Costco. One good thing is, I didn't have to walk all over Creation. They have scooters the size of a small Hummer for us old folks to ride. The other thing is....it was Sample Day. :-)

When you go on Sample Day, go hungry. Every aisle you turn down, in the food section, there is a retiree in an apron cooking up something tasty. I started off with a taste of steak and bean burrito, some pomegranate juice, half a tempura shrimp, and a little cup of dark chocolate covered blueberries that were absolutely so good they were sinful. I was stuffed.

Good thing they make the hot dogs to go...which is another good thing about Costco. They make the best hot dogs. Hebrew Nationals. Big ol' beef sausages about 10 inches long in a soft steamy bun. I bought 4 and brought them home for lunch, not that I was hungry anymore, but I knew Dave would be.

The bad thing about these stores is the size of the products they have for sale. Does anyone really need a gallon of Tabasco sauce? I usually buy those little 2 ounce bottles and they last a year. What would anyone DO with a gallon of Tabasco? Something evil, I suspect. Maybe even a WMD? It could happen.

Now I can see a gallon of.... say.....pancake syrup. We make a lot of frozen waffles at my house. A gallon would last a while, but only if we had the waffles to put it on. So I had no choice but to buy a box of 60 frozen waffles. The syrup came in a double pack...TWO gallons. It all matched up.

These places are supposed to save you money, and I would imagine if you had a family and a freezer, maybe they do, but for me, I can go in and by the time I've bought a bag of 200 chicken nuggets, the 5 dozen Eggos, 42 lbs of cat litter, 2 gallons of syrup, a big bag of onion rings, 3 pounds of bananas and a box of exam gloves (don't ask) I've spent $100 and I still can't make a meal.

I didn't find everything I was looking for though. They didn't have a WII. Probably just as well...I would have spent $300 and still had nothing to eat for dinner.

I Have a Heart Condition

It's a hole...and it can only be filled by these two:

Are those two of the most precious faces on the Earth??? Meet our grandsons, Jacob (7) and Adam aka Moosie (2). 

A couple of weeks ago, my son Joe and my daughter-in-law Debbie had the chance to take a vacation, so they drove down to LA from Oregon to spend some time with friends and family and then on to Las Vegas for some grownup time. I'm sure they had a great time, but WE had the best part of the whole trip...we got to keep the boys for four days!

Now what makes this so special is, it had been 3 years since we'd seen Jacob and Debbie, longer since we'd seen Joe, and we had never seen Moosie, except in pictures and on Skype. (If you don't have Skype and you have grandchildren...get it...get it NOW!) They started planning this trip a year before it happened so we had a long wait for that wonderful morning when our family finally arrived.

Dave went out to meet the car, and I waited in the lobby, here at Golden Acres. We'd decided to meet them there, so we could show them where to park, and because there was just more hugging room. First Jacob came running in. OH!!...I could hardly stand to turn him loose, once I got my arms around him. He's the firstborn. He's handsome and charming and smart...OMG is he ever smart. He's in the first grade and he's reading on 5th grade level. He told his parents he was more excited about seeing Grandma and Grampy than he was about going to Disneyland. Here he is right after he came in:

Then came Moosie. Our first look, face to face. Pictures are great, and Skype is fantastic, but there is nothing like getting your arms around someone you love. He came rolling in with Grampy, riding on the front of his chair, just like Jacob did when he was younger. 

Here he is...my first look at this beautiful baby.

My greatest fear was soon put to rest. I was afraid that he would be scared of me. It only took a couple of minutes for us to bond. For the rest of the visit he was MY boy.

We all had dinner together, Joe and Debbie left for Vegas, and we were on our own. I had a two-year-old for the first time in 25 years. And this was all virgin territory for Dave. After dinner we watched the boys play with some of the toys we'd bought for the visit, and then it was bedtime. After pj's and kisses all around, Jacob hopped into bed and dropped right off. He must have been tired. I gathered Moosie up into what lap I have, and we rocked in the rocking chair a little bit. It didn't take long for him to drop off too. I put him into his travel crib and marveled at my two sleeping angels. 

Fast forward to 2am. I heard a little whimper and found that my mom instincts were still intact, as I immediately awoke. Moosie was standing in his crib, so I went over and asked him..."Baby, why are you awake? It's still sleepy time." That child looked at me like I was dumber than a box of rocks and said, "Diaper". Oh yeah....those...I'd forgotten that little boys need a diaper change in the middle of the night. I said..."Oh, I'm sorry...is it wet?"....he said..."Wet."....like, can we get on with this so I can go back to sleep?

The next two days were spent in typical kid mode. Waffles for breakfast accompanied by Spongebob Squarepants. Baking cookies in the afternoon, and a movie in the theater room that evening. Chicken nuggets and blue box mac & cheese. Fruit cups and Gogurts and sippy cups.

I dragged those poor boys around so much...to meet all our friends and to show them off. They were so well behaved. I was so proud. A week later, my friends were still commenting on how polite Jacob was, and how sweet Moosie was. Jacob always remembered his manners, no matter how many people he'd been introduced to. He even asked permission before petting my friend Jim's little dog. (Jim said "Kids don't talk that way!!"...I said, "Mine do". ) Joe and Debbie deserve full credit for that. They are wonderful parents, and I'm so proud of them. I wish I'd done some of the things with my boys that Deb has done with hers. 

When the time came for them to leave, I tried really hard not to cry. So did Grampy. We tried, but we lost that one. It was so hard to let them go. I just wanted to hold them and not turn them loose until they were ready for college. I know they are busy, and our travel days are over, but I hope it won't be another 3 years before we see them again. In the meantime, I'm grateful for pictures and videos and Skype. But nothing can fill that hole in my heart like the warmth of their hugs.

I'll leave you with some pictures, before I cry again.

My handsome son Joe and his beautiful wife, Debbie. Now you see where those boys get their looks.

Be still, my heart!!

Remember this boy...he's going to be something special to the world when he grows up.

My family. My loves. My heart.