More 5 Random Things!

• I was in the car at 10:10 am, and at 10:10 pm.
• My counterparts at the other sites and I have been summoned to the college president's office tomorrow. I've been imagining walking through the halls on our way there while the Imperial March plays.
  
• New fuzzy pajama pants, a blueberry muffin from the Gingerbread Construction Company and chamomile tea have made me very happy in the last hour.
• Weezer is in Boston in two weeks. That would have been fun...
  
• It's very late again. Silly mind, go to sleep!
  

November, I thought we were friends

Pete: I brought you a bottle of wine.....

Me (holding an open beer): Oh, good, thank you. (*thinks*: oh good, I will drink that too.)

Turns out that "what tomorrow will bring" can only be described as a flaming bag of no-THANK-you. Boss gives notice + heightened fight or flight + situation where I should have kept my fool mouth shut = ughhhhh. No permanent damage done, but I see the writing on the wall. It just appears to be giving me the finger, that's all.

This has been quite a month. Lots of great moments, but kind of a cosmic kick in the head in some respects. I say that because as I've navigated the stressful stuff and upheld the balancing act, I've had the overwhelming feeling that I'm being shaken. "Hey! Psst! Hey YOU! You're on the wrong path, kid..." This might sound like I think the universe is punishing me for roads not taken, and I really really don't mean that. It's just that I feel nudged to look around me, to look within.

Anyway. Here are some things that lifted my spirits a bit today:

Joy the Baker. I love the beautiful kale and sweet potato soup pics, and the teeny kitten! There are also some beautiful aprons under her November giveaway, at least today there are. (PamWares on etsy).

The Bloggess. She writes. She's funny. When I go where the bad people go, and am sitting front row center with certain of my friends, I bet she'll be up on stage. Ha.

This post on Food Network Humor. I could absolutely be a Shredded Cheese Authority. I'm going to look for that job, as soon as I dust off my sadly outdated resume.

And this little person, who was so sweet to Bad Day Mama, didn't mind grilled cheese for dinner, and gave cuddles on the couch and during story time.

Late night, should be sleeping

Not sure why I'm still awake...maybe just inertia. Going to bed means getting off the couch. It also means that before 6 am tomorrow it all starts again, and I am just not ready.

Five days off is good stuff. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

We saw Santa...

...and she was almost too shy to tell him what she wanted. Sweet girl.

Black Friday, except it really wasn't

Today I only got out of my jammies at around 4 pm, and that was because it was too cold to wear them to the grocery store. We needed milk, and I figured if I picked up a few select items we could get through tomorrow and do the usual weekly run on Sunday. Cleverrrr. And after dinner I put those pajamas right back on. Oh yeah. Living the high life here.

We watched movies (AstroBoy and Charlie & the Chocolate Factory) and hung out on the couch, but I also squared away some prep stuff for the Christmas knitting. I dug out needles, printed patterns, cleared space in my bag, and wound hanks of beautiful wool into nice neat little yarn cakes. Ahhh.

My only triumph of parenting for the day was making sure Charlotte had a shower, put on a clean nightgown, and brushed her teeth before bed. I am a rockstar!

I shopped a bit online, only really because I found a couple of decent deals and got free shipping at one place. One of my friends updated fb repeatedly with her whereabouts throughout the morning....and I must confess I did sort of chortle to myself as I drank a nice cup of coffee and made myself a frittata (garlic, grape tomatoes, arugula and cheese). In my jammies.

I just can't see leaving the warm flannel of my nest to go shopping in the wee small hours. But hey, whatever works for people....the ones out at 4 am today will doubtless be pleased with themselves when people like me are still working on finding/finishing/wrapping gifts on December 22nd. Ah well.

Thanksgiving

My mother-in-law, Mona, has been gone for eight years now. It's been nine years since that last Thanksgiving, where we crowded around the dining room table, before kids, and were a family celebrating a holiday with some weight.

And I think that one of the final gifts she left us is that we were forced to be responsible for our family. If we wanted to have a holiday, we needed to figure out the food and the place and the time. If we wanted to be a family, well, we needed to step up and be there. There was no waiting for Mom to plan Thanksgiving, or going back home for Christmas because she was there. And we've built our family, all of us, day by day, both the holidays and the ordinary days...the days where we all just mesh and the days where we just disagree.

I think she's proud of us. I felt that today.

Blessed are the piemakers

Anyone out there with perfect crust, know that I have crust envy. I am willing to learn at the knee of anyone who can teach me before I need pie again! Martha- meh. Bittman (which I attempted today)- the balance of too-dry-to-stay-together and omg LOOK at all that freaking gluten I developed! is too difficult. Crust with vinegar, I couldn't bring myself to do....and although the Cook's Illustrated crust with vodka was a fine idea, I only have Stoli Razberi and Absolut Peppar in my house (what is wrong with me?).

Anyway. I think these pies are good. I hope. See 'em and weep. I figure if the crust is awful then at least the filling is sound!

Maple Bourbon Pecan, pre-baking. That crust is suspect, don't trust it for a second.
And after. See? you turn your back, that crust will sneak into the filling and steal your purse.
Same crust recipe, slightly better result. This one's pumpkin....with errant pumpkin puree spots. The pie has freckles....but hey, so do some of my favorite people.
S'more pie. My other pie plate is packed with the Christmas decorations up over the barn, so it got a springform to call home. It will get its marshmallow topping tomorrow, and a kitchen-torching before we eat it. Fire! Fire! heh heh heh.
I am psyched for tomorrow- family and food AND the knowledge that there are still three days left of the loooong weekend after. Brilliant.

No complaints, redux

In the wake of the past week, and my frustration at trying unsuccessfully to balance home and work (home WON), I lost my grip on the string of No Complaints, and watched it go sailing into the sky. I've had a few days where I recognized where I was going and resisted, but then broke the chain with one grouchy afternoon here, a bad day at work there...

Attempt #3, then. It seems like auspicious timing, during this week of Thanksgiving and the week after averting possible disaster, to remember how lucky I am and to truly to focus my energy on the positive and not on fruitless complaints.

I am continuing to learn how to face situations that need to change without venting, but also without passively absorbing whatever comes my way. I guess what I'm saying is that there are ways to voice dissent or dissatisfaction without whining, complaining or creating negative energy. I am trying to practice different and better responses, ones that put more positive out into the world....without losing who I am. Which, to be honest? is sometimes snarky, often sarcastic, and not interested in keeping silent simply to keep the peace, when sometimes there are things that need to be said.

So tomorrow, which is November 24th, is Day 1. Again. Right now? Not much to complain about. Jammies, wine, cooking shows on DVR, new magazine...and tomorrow I get to bake for my family and work on some holiday knitting (and even finish a couple of gifts!) and just do one thing at a time. I am a lucky girl.

5 Things I'm Doing

1. Watching The Venture Bros.
2. Inhaling the scent of an apple pie we can't eat (it will go to a work potluck tomorrow).
3. Kind of wishing I could turn out more perfect pies more consistently.
4. Finally picking up my drink again after all the ice has melted.
5. Thinking that there maybe should be more hours in a day. Except knowing me, I'd likely just use them for more sleep instead of something good. Although sleep is good.
   

Sunday, Sunday

Today was so busy, but fun...planning for pie-baking later this week, installing flannel sheets, guerilla Sunday-before-Thanksgiving grocery shopping with the girl, and cooking the first meal from my new cookbook for friends. Sadly, no pics of Spicy New England Pot Roast, Ismail Merchant's Pureed Spinach or roasted potaotes, but they were yummy.

And now I am watching recorded episodes of The French Chef: "How to Roast a Turkey." I love Julia Child.

November 20th

It was a really good day.

Pete at the Jingle Bell 10K
Happy.
Nason kids watching wood-fired pizza cook
O on the move...tried to make a break for it, but we brought him back.
So grown up I have to catch my breath

Princess Aunt Lori

Catboy at home

Eat, kitty, eat. Whoever heard of a skinny Jimmy?
(Mrs. Claus, Rankin-Bass' Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer)

Be here now

Today started with a bit of freaking out, as the catboy didn't really eat at all last night and was hiding under an end table this morning while I hunted for him. After sharing all of this with one of the vet techs when I dropped him off, I drove away, worrying, a bit teary.

I won't say that I tried not to worry today, because there is no not worrying in this situation. But I tried to stay in the moment, mindful. I can be upset, worried, fearful. I can be there, feel that, and then move on. I made my way through the day, and when the OD called with news, although I was steeled for whatever might come, I was as pleasantly surprised as she was, and so grateful.

Jimmy has made a most amazing recovery. This is not to say that he is all better, but that in a few short days, his levels are dropping, his small furry body responding to treatment. The OD said that he was bright-eyed, responsive, curious. She said that although some of those things are subjective, that the objective factors bear out his recovery. Mind you, we have a long road of medication and watching to be sure he eats....follow up labs and twice-yearly exams until we see what the new normal will be for him. But. He is here. He is still here.

I got him home, and felt sort of weird about leaving again to keep a hair appointment. I'm glad I did; some time away from work and home and caring for sick kitty was much needed and so good. I sat in the massage-y chair for my shampoo. I had wine and chatted with the stylist, who is someone I saw regularly for pedis last year and who I really enjoy. When I left, my head felt lighter, but not for loss of hair.

So my "here, now": couch. Wine and chocolate. Snoozy cat on one side of me, snoozy man on the other. Headache numbed a bit and only tomorrow left to the workweek. We might not even have to go to the vet tomorrow....but if we do, our Jimmy will spend one more day with his fan club (which has quite the membership; everyone loves that boy!). Either way, it's another day where we'll all put our feet on the floor, whether we have two or four of them.

Cat delivery service.

It occurred to me as I drove to the animal hospital this morning that it would be the 5th round trip from here-ish (including my office) to there in two days. And I thought, "am I crazy? Is this beyond what normal people would do for their cat?"

And then I remembered: I don't care. Jimmy is my friend and I love him and this is what I think is right.

I dropped Jimmy off at the direction of the Best Vet Ever, who had given me hope and encouragement yesterday afternoon when we spoke, noting that some of the bad bloodwork numbers were dropping (good) and that he had perked up (also good). We took him home last night, with his port still intact, to give him loves and get him to eat and basically try to have some normalcy ("There's that word again...I don't think it means what you think it means."). The BVE also managed his pain- thank you!- and made sure to give him one more dose before sending him home with us. Today we were to bring him back, for more IV fluids and antibiotics.

I had been feeling pretty good about his progress, until I called this afternoon and spoke with, well, not the Best Vet Ever, but the Other Doctor. The Other Doctor was full of doom and gloom, of dire predictions of permanent damage (the BVE had said she really felt there would be minimal permanent damage) and faulty phosphorus absorption....medications...mix this one with food, this one with water....not eating is problematic....no, she has no idea why such-and-such is happening and frankly she's not concerned about it.

I get the suspicion that the Other Doctor is one of those people who works with animals because she doesn't like dealing with people and isn't particularly good at it.

And tonight he is not as perky, hasn't eaten. He's still really so so sick, thin. He seems angry and tired, neither of which is surprising. He's, um, incontinent. He's happy to be home for sure, and maybe will eat and drink when no one is looking later. Tomorrow he goes back again for one more test, and possibly more fluids. They tell me that often with kidney disease (which is how the OD is referring to this) the third day on IV fluids is the turning point. Alright, turning point, yes please. We can getz betr? okthx.

Poor Catboy.

(napping Jimmy)
Our boy is at the vet's office right now, undergoing treatment for failing kidneys. His doctor, the Best Vet Ever (no joke, she is amazing), thinks that he could have a kidney infection....or it might be something worse.

Jimmy had seemed to be his usual self lately, but was sick to his stomach more often than hairball-normal on Saturday. Hmm. Then on Sunday, he had some incontinence issues and was not eating or drinking much. Okay, something's wrong. I spent a good portion of the evening trying to cajole him into at least drinking some water. Let's be honest: at 11:30 I was on the floor with him, trying to give him fluid with a baby medicine dropper.

Yesterday was one of those Goodfellas days where I ran from place to place at warp speed, hearing Harry Nilsson in my head, jumpy and looking over my shoulder for helicopters. Check on sick cat. Email boss. Get kidlet ready for school. Call vet. Kidlet on bus. Sick and crying cat to vet. Me to work. Phone calls to vet, husband, vet, husband, boss. Pick up better? cat. Pick up kidlet just before afterschool late pickup. Home. Give urine-covered cat a bath. Feed kidlet. Cajole (damp, but no longer dripping) cat into eating and drinking. And so on....

The diagnosis yesterday had been a UTI. After subcutaneous fluid and antibiotic and vitamin B shots, he really had perked up a bit. We came home with a 10 day supply of another antibiotic (pills, yikes) and with instructions for me to make sure he eats, otherwise they would recommend syringe feeding. Although his bloodwork was back and showed elevated white cells and leukocytes (duh), the more comprehensive stuff for liver and kidney and pancreatic function would not be in until today.

This morning, he was happy and purring, eating, drinking his water, interacting with Pepper.

Then I got a phone call.

I was driving. Of COURSE.

The Best Vet Ever proceeds to tell me that my improving! cat is critically ill. That the improvements are temporary, and that he needs IV fluids and antibiotics. NOW.

So I change directions, head back. More phone calls. When I come to pick him up, Jimmy doesn't resist. He knows he's sick. He knows where I'm taking him.

As I drive to the vet, I try not to think about Frances.

When I talked to my friend/boss Shaman today, he told me that I need to "go in there hopeful, Lor, but you need to try to prepare yourself for the worst." To a degree, he's right. When we determined that Frances could not be cured, that her quality of life would never be the same, I was blindsided.

Still.

I feel guilty, because this kitty was sick for some time before we saw the distress signals. One of the vets pointed out that, "if it were you or me, and we were this sick, we would have seen a doctor ten days ago." She wasn't being judgy; she followed it up with the observation that animals, particularly cats, are biologically programmed to conceal their weaknesses.

Okay. So some perspective.

He is young, and strong. Short of the hairball horking, he doesn't get sick. This could be a very very bad infection, and the right care could do the trick. He's in the right place to get the right care.

And if it's something worse? Well, he got to come home last night, where he was loved and fussed over and he and I curled up together on the couch and snoozed.

Good thoughts, please...

Questions

Charlotte: Mommy. What would happen if you went trick-or-treating in December? Would they still have to give you candy?

Me: Well, people most likely wouldn't be expecting you, since really no one is trick-or-treating then.

C: But would they give you something anyway?

Me: I think you would only get what people could find in their houses to give you. You'd probably end up with Brillo pads and Grape-Nuts.

C: What's a Grape-Nut?

Birthday

Today was full of lots of my favorite things:

• sleeping in
• lovely birthday gifts (including The Essential New York Times Cookbook...woot!)
  
• chatting with my mom
• grocery store evasion (I love my husband)
• shoe shopping
  
• buying yarn
• good wine
• baking
• a fantastic dinner (have I mentioned I love my husband?)
  
• family time

Pete in the kitchen: pan-seared scallops served over white bean puree, with kale and chorizo and pine nut/shallot/raisin gremolata. Oh my.



I made a devil's food cake with vanilla-orange buttercream...the cake is from Sweet Maria's Cake Kitchen and the frosting is Grandma's buttercream with a bit of orange extract added with the vanilla.





Ahhh.

Today I...

...slept in until 8. Yay!

...attempted to take Charlotte on a birthday party marathon. Left South Berwick at 1:40 + drive to Newington + Chuck E. Cheese party ended at 2:00 = FAIL.

...bought my very first flatiron. Let's hope I am more successful at not burning my head than I was when I used a curling iron regularly (circa 1990).

...noticed that Pepper sort of resembles Henrietta Pussycat.
...found out that a guy who looked like a cross between Hagrid and Dog the Bounty Hunter (Pete's description) spotted our old broken washer behind the barn, loaded it up and took it away to sell for scrap metal.

...might have figured out what I'll be knitting for the next month or so. ::shifty::

...get to go out to dinner with the girlie and the man. I love my birthday, and that celebrating it takes more than one day.

No complaints. As it turns out, not that easy.

I've been in a bit of a funk this week, not least because I made it 7 days before breaking my rule on Tuesday and Wednesday. I was at work, got bogged down and overwhelmed, and since it's so easy to do there (hey, everyone else is doing it), I just couldn't stop it. I found the whiny words bubbling up in my soured brain and tumbling out of my mouth....and was just really disappointed that I could only go a week.

But yesterday was a new day, away from the things that were bugging me, and it was much better. There was really nothing to complain about. I felt like myself again.

So I guess today is Day 2. New start, new count. I still think I can make it 28 days.

Highlights

We had a day off today, which included prolonged lounging on the couch in jammies...and knitting...
(including some while Charlotte read to me!)

We listened to music- Wilco and the Verve and Monk....and did some laundry...and we worked on decorating the turkey that is her current homework assignment:
We went out for a while...and came back to finish the turkey project and make dinner:
"Mmm, bones!"

Of course, I was busy roasting potatoes and pork chops, steaming green beans and making apple pudding. I didn't exactly see what she was up to...
...Vegas showgirl turkey.