Just Another Herd Creature

Do not spend an hour researching recipes, drooling over pictures of food, planning a menu, when you have not eaten breakfast yet.  
Must      Find     Food

Looking in the rearview mirror a few weeks ago, I saw my mother’s mouth and it was sitting under my nose. I never realized I had her mouth. I find this very weird. I’m almost 50 years old and I never noticed this before. My mother’s mouth, when in neutral, had both corners turned way down. She said everyone always thought she was mad or sad, unless she was laughing.

Six years ago today my mom died. It’s been six years without my weekly Sunday morning calls. It’s been six years since I’ve had the thought “I need to remember to tell mom that” and know she would hear it. It’s been six years since I could call her for a quick check on one of her recipes. I tried for a while to call one of my sisters on Sundays, but it wasn’t the same and it didn’t last long. Certainly not the 18 years of talking to Mom every week. I think we missed 5 or 6 Sundays in all that time. That’s over 930 calls plus all the times we talked more than once a week, I would put it at at least a 1000 calls. Sometimes we’d talk for an hour or more, but I think they probably averaged 30 minutes. That’s 30,000 minutes of sharing our lives with each other. 30,000 minutes reliving favorite family stories. 30,000 minutes discussing our soap operas or politics – not much difference between the two, we often said. 30,000 finite minutes.

I often wondered if I’d stayed in my hometown instead of moving 2000 miles away, if we would have talked more or less. I suspect it would have been less. On the other hand, we would have shared many, many more minutes in each other’s physical company. I would have been there when she had to put Dad in the nursing home. I would have shared the responsibility with my sister of driving mom to her doctors' appointments or to see Dad. Running to the store, bank or post office would have been part of my week. Right up until she died, my mom would put some money in the checking account for utility bills, insurance and taxes and then take the rest in cash. She needed specific denominations because she had a system. Somewhere hidden in the house was a box with a bunch of white envelopes. Each envelope labeled with a use and an amount. They were for “clothes”, “birthdays”, “groceries” “emergencies” “St. Anthony’s” and several others I can’t remember. Each month she filled them. When they were empty, she was done spending until the next month – no credit card for her. While grocery money did run out sometimes, we always had enough in the deep freeze and the cupboards to keep us fed. She rarely went into one envelope to pay for another’s – “Don’t rob Peter to pay Paul” was her solid economic advise. One I wished I’d live by.

For most of my early years, the box was kept under her bed. During the summer, when I’d hear the ice cream truck coming down the street, I’d run for the box asking Mom if I could have a popsicle. Barely waiting for an answer, I’d give her the box and then run outside to stop the truck. By the time I’d made my choice, Mom was right behind me with the money. Sitting on the front steps, eating our popsicles on a warm summer morning was the best.

Re-reading this, my childhood sounds so idyllic. Sometime it was and sometimes it was not. Today, on the anniversary of her death, I choose to remember the idyllic times. Times when the corners of our mouths curved up.

It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. There are so many tasks I want to do, but I doubt I'll get to many of them. I guess I'll call it a successful day if I finish laundry, make dinner, load the dishwasher and clean the fish tank. The major (and I do mean major) closet cleaning that includes sorting through clothes, some for the resale store and others for donation and some that will go directly to the trash, do not pass Go, do not collect $200, Go Directly To the Trash!

Friday I had a dental appointment to remove an old filling and put a temporary cap in place. I think the cap is a little off, because my mouth still hurts, esp. after I eat. And it's not just below the tooth they worked on, but also on the tooth above it. I think this happens if they are not hitting each other just right. I'm not going back for the permanent cap for about 4 weeks, so I guess I'll have to go in if this keeps hurting. So far ibuprofen has helped.

Not the most exciting post in the world, but it did serve its' purpose. I've managed to procrastinate a little while longer. The net, it's not just for information and games!

Hey cassidyrose and ptor, I know you have a while before this is an issue, but I just had to share this site. Be sure to have your sound on.
http://www.pottysong.com/index.shtml

Sept. 8, 2006, I purchased my first Xmas ornaments. Note to Self: Do Not Visit Any Hallmark Store Right After Pay Day.

but, but, but - it was the 40th Anniversary Star Trek Enterprise ornament.

The only other accomplishment of the day: I managed to get dbubley's water heater's pilot light back on. Once again she can take a hot shower. I also took a really long nap this afternoon - I can count that as an accomplishment, can't I?

Just got home from the vet. Gilly went in at 10:30 am and we had to pick her up at 5 pm. The x-ray showed everything was fine, but in the last day a large black puffy area appeared on the back of her foot. The vet said it is most likely a spider bit. She has a 14 day course of antibiotics and I have to put warm compresses on it a few times a day until it opens and drains. He said it will be messy. We have a follow up appointment next Thursday. We hope by that time the it will be healing and the doctor won't have to mess with(i.e. debride) it.

To Be Continued . . .

Baby Gilly (okay, she's a 9 year old doberman, but she's our baby) hurt her paw last night. It looks like a puncture wound in the soft tissue between the toes on her back right leg. She was/is holding the entire leg up from the hip joint. It was bleeding last night, I put peroxide on it and it looks clean. She had trouble getting our of her crate this morning - her usual stiffness plus the paw made it very hard for her. She's not running a fever, has an appetite, although she doesn't want to stand to eat "just" her regular dog food, but she hobbled over to check it out. I get no pain reaction from her when I push all over her leg and hip, so I'm hoping it's just this wound. Maybe she sprained something when she hurt it. We don't know exactly when it happen, all of a sudden dbubley saw her limping around her house. She called me right away and I had to go down and get her because she wouldn't go through the dog door.

If she's not doing better by the time I get home tonight, we'll take her to the vet in the morning. Poor baby. Even though it was hard for her last night, she did manage a three leg jump up on the bed so she could say "good night to stonebender.
*insert "awwwwww"* here.

Well, today work was sweet; tomorrow may be different. A few minutes ago I decided to go through bills, and hidden between them was my jury duty notice. I'd sort of forgotten about it. And the day is tomorrow. I called in and the recording said I don't have to report in the morning, but I have to call between noon and 1 pm and may be asked to report later that day. Oh joy.

It could be worst, it could be the court house about 30 minutes away from my job instead of 10 minutes - it's about 16 blocks away. And I have a few hours in the morning to finish up the hottest issue on my desk.

I don't think they'd pick me even if I get to the interview stage. I remember reading an article years ago listing several "visual elements" that helped them dismiss prospective jurors. For woman they said large hoop earrings, short skirts and a fat body set up some sort of red flag. Hoop earings - check, fat body - check, short skirt - nope, well 2 out of 3 ain't bad. ;-)

If I do get picked, I'll do my best and hope for a short trial. On the other hand, if it lasts a couple of weeks I'll miss the mandatory Homeland Security training for all full time city employees.
If this isn't a mixed bag, huh?