Thanksgiving 2011

It is hard to believe that Thanksgiving and Black Friday are over and we have started the official countdown to Christmas.

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving despite a few obstacles. It was perfect in that both girls were here with us. The obstacles were, in hindsight, minor - the kitchen is still not finished and Wednesday morning the dishwasher decided that it would cease to function properly and thus would be unavailable until addressed by a repairman on Monday. Neither of these things was enough to keep us from enjoying our time together.

Another thing that made it a great Thanksgiving, at least for me, is that I was responsible for very little of the actual meal preparation., I made one pie, the dressing, and green bean casserole for Erin; with these tasks completed, my cooking responsibilities were fulfilled. Weber smoked the turkey. Brooke did everything else! It sure is nice to have a kid in culinary school! She made roasted brussel sprouts, leek bread pudding, a cauliflower tart, bread, and two pies - and no mess! She has always been a pretty exceptional cook. It seems that greatest skill that culinary school has taught her how to clean up as she goes - quite a valuable skill considering our non-functional dishwasher and the somewhat compromised kitchen accommodations.

Weber and Brooke spent Wednesday morning grocery shopping. (I spent the day at the yarn shop knitting. Have I mentioned how great it is to have a kid who cooks?) Brooke had been planning her menu for some time. She then made her shopping list and checked it twice and off they went to conquer Central Market on one of the busiest grocery shopping days of the year.

Once home, she began cooking . . .and didn't stop for about twenty four hours.


Her sister thought that maybe she should have checked her list another time or two. Leeks and cauliflower? For real? There are mashed potatoes and green beans, right?
Even thought Erin did not want leeks or cauliflower, she, and the rest of us, managed to have more than enough to eat.

We let our meal settle for a few hours before having pie and then heading out at midnight to mark the beginning to our Christmas shopping season. Yes, we were some of the crazies who went to Target for their midnight opening. We weren't looking for anything in particular so the outing was one of low stress. (It was one of no stress for Weber; he was in bed by 11:30.) The rest of us had a fun time wandering around Target and people watching. There is probably a great sociology or economics dissertation in studying this kind of shopping environment.

We got home about two and all settled in for good night's sleep.

Still stuffed from the night before, the kids began the day with a game of Clue rather than breakfast. Having been left out of the previous day's feast, Frankie was not going to be left out of the game playing also.

About the time they had figured out that it was "Mr. Plum in the kitchen with poison," Paul arrived with the missing kitchen cabinets. Installing them took most of the afternoon. Frankie was not going to be left out of that process either.
Though it was a little weird, we had a fun holiday with much for which to be thankful.

Enlightenment

Do you read the instruction manuals for all of your household items? If not, you should. Not necessarily because they may enlighten you on how to properly use whatever it is that they came with . . .though they might; but rather because they are often a great source of entertainment and hysterical laughter.

The following is from such a manual.

"11. Do not touch the parts that are not intended for manipulation."

I kid you not. Any guesses as to the product whose instructions offer such guidance?

HINT: It did not come in a discreetly marked box intended to protect us from embarrassing assumptions by the mailman.

Visiting Hours

How is it that two dogs, one neutered and one spayed, and two cats, also one neutered and one spayed, can spawn litters of offspring all over the house? And how can they do so at the same rate as rabbits? Oh, wait. those aren’t whole puppies and kittens; it is just huge balls of fur shed by the aforementioned spayed and neutered dogs and cats that have collected in every corner. What a relief. No more mouths to feed. Only vacuum cleaner bags to fill.

Looking around at the fur balls that occupied every corner when I got home from school Thursday night made me glad that I was not expecting any company that evening. It was not a pretty sight around here. This scenario made me start thinking about what night is a good not for unexpected guests.

Thursday is definitely not a good night. By Thursday night, a week’s worth of fur has collected all around the house as has a week’s layer of dust. The laundry basket is overflowing with a week’s worth of dirty work clothes (not that you would see this if you stopped by). My desk is covered with a week’s worth of papers to be graded. And, I am pretty tired and grouchy by this time of the week; that in and of itself makes Thursday night an undesirable time to visit.

Friday is cleaning day. So, on the surface, it is a much better day to visit than Thursday because the dirt is gone. However, don’t come by expecting dinner or even an after-school snack. By Friday, the only things in the refrigerator are leftovers. And, because I have spent the day cleaning, I am often grouchier and more tired than I was Thursday evening. Enough said.

Saturday is grocery shopping day. The leftovers from the previous week are replaced by many choices of fresh food. Sometimes we get distracted while we are ostensibly out grocery shopping and find ourselves embarking on other Saturday projects. Some of these projects cause there to be big boxes, or multiple pieces of unassembled objects such as bar stools and shelving, or rain barrels and decking to be strewn about from one end of the den to the other and sometimes beyond. This is just temporary clutter, but it makes for a less than welcoming environment for unsuspecting guests.

By Sunday, Saturday’s projects have been completed and any evidence of the previous day’s clutter and chaos has been erased. The gestation period of the next litter of puppies and kittens has just started and usually is not visible to the naked eye. We often eat out on Saturday evenings so the refrigerator is still well stocked. And sometime between Thursday evening and Sunday the laundry gets done. This is sounding like a good time to stop by. Oh wait, the school week starts the next day. we are busy grading those papers that have been sitting on the desk since Thursday or Friday and making sure the week’s lesson plans are in order. You can stop by anyway if you’d like. Make yourself at home and help yourself to whatever is in the fridge but try not to make too much noise. We are kind of busy.

Dinner on Monday evenings is usually pretty good. You are welcome to join us. Don’t trip over the backpacks right inside the door. And I promise that I will wash the dishes from the lunch boxes that are sitting on the counter when I do the dinner dishes. I’ll have all that done by 7:30 or so. That would be a good time to come by. There is usually hot coffee brewing by then too. If you are one of those people who doesn’t drink coffee at night, maybe you should stop by at another time. We don’t believe in decaf ...ever!

Tuesday and Wednesday nights are rehearsal and book study nights. If you time it right, you can join us for a quick dinner or a late night dessert and cup of coffee. Remember, no decaf! I suspect the litters of puppies and kittens are noticeable at this point, but we aren’t home long enough to be aware of them. This is probably a good thing because if I noticed them, I would feel obligated to do something about them right then which would require staying up even later than usual which would in turn necessitate more coffee. Now you know why we don’t believe in decaf.

Wow! . . .we are already back to Thursday and it all starts over.

The moral of the story . . .we are always willing to extend hospitality to anyone who wants to come visit. And, we will always offer the very best that we can to our guests Just keep in mind that the specific details of this agreement are subject to change without notice.

Birthday Boy

Today is my four-legged boy’s seventh birthday.

"The Birthday Boy"

"The Birthday Boy almost 7 years ago"

If you subscribe to the belief that a dog year is roughly seven human years, then Adidas is forty-nine. That means that for the next fifty six days he and I are the same age. I thought it might be interesting to see how much age 49 in a dog and age 49 in a human actually have in common.

• We are both a little stiff in the morning but it is nothing that can’t be remedied by a good stretch.
• We both appreciate a hearty meal. I am a little more discriminating than Adidas. He enjoys any meal he can find - one from his bowl, Harley’s bowl, the cats’ bowl or any available trash can.
• We both drink a lot of water and thus never pass up a potty stop.

• We enjoy the same spot on the couch. Not simultaneously. We both don’t fit in said spot so there is often a power struggle for which one of us gets it. Adidas is more assertive than I am. He usually wins
• We are both carrying around a few extra pounds. I worry about that. He doesn’t.

• We both enjoy a late afternoon round of frisbee - me on the throwing end, Adidas on the receiving. I don’t mind being on the receiving end but he has a little trouble throwing.

• We both know the importance of a good night’s sleep and an afternoon nap.
• We both know the value of a pat on the head, a rub on the belly, and a scratch behind the ears.
• Neither of us has a Facebook page.
• Neither of us needs a Facebook page.
• Neither of us wants a Facebook page.
• We both believe that every day should start with a cookie.
• And, we both know that you can never show too much love.

To 49 . . .or 7! Happy Birthday Adidas.

A Fair Day

For some reason, I seem to be exhausted by the end of the school week. It’s not like I am over-extending myself. In fact, there are several things that I want and need to do that just haven’t gotten done because I run out of steam by the time I have accomplished all the things that have to be done.

Despite being tired and wishing for a day that didn’t start before 10 am, we decided to go to the Texas State Fair on Saturday. I think I wanted a funnel cake more than I wanted a morning to sleep late! Aside from the funnel cakes, the fair is the epitome of something I loathe - big crowds. I don’t like controlled crowds of well-behaved people; and, I really don’t like huge crowds of rowdy people hyped up on sugar and alcohol. I also don’t like crowds where the number of strollers equals the number of mobile people and those strollers are being pushed by mobile people under three feet tall. In my opinion, the State Fair has great potential for providing a miserable experience. But, it never has.

We rode the DART train, Dallas’ fledgling mass transit system, to the fair. Many other people chose this option as well. It is much cheaper than parking and much less stressful than driving. We got on the train at one of the earliest stops on this particular route and, to my surprise, it was already standing room only. We stood for a few stops. As the train slowed at the next station, we could see that a large crowd was about to board. It was clear that my personal space was about to be no more. At this point we were about half way to the fair; the trip would be another 20-25 minutes. We were standing by a seated family that consisted of grandparents, two of their children and spouses, and four grandchildren. As we scrunched to make room for the onslaught of new riders, the grandmother tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to an empty seat. Her family had doubled up the children so that three of them were sharing a seat intended for two and the fourth was on dad’s lap. This was a welcome but certainly unnecessary gesture on this family’s part. I will gladly admit that we were ever so grateful to arrive at the fair grounds with our legs and feet not already tired from having stood for forty-five minutes.

As the massive crowd disembarked from the train, everyone took their turn. There was no pushing or shoving. This controlled atmosphere continued all the way into the fairgrounds despite the slowdown as we all went through the narrow gates and past the metal detectors.

Next it was on to purchase a ticket. The fair employees did their best to direct people to the shortest lines, keeping everyone’s frustration levels at a minimum. During our brief time in the line, people were sharing extra discount coupons and even a few tickets with others . It was a bright spot for me to see a mass of strangers from all walks of life doing what they could to help others to save a few dollars and enjoy a good day at the fair.

We stood in a few more lines throughout the day in order to get drinks and the coveted funnel cake. Everyone was polite. People were quick to ask if you were in line before they took their place or to point to the fact that there were multiple lines being served. I observed as a patron shared food coupons with someone who had stood in line and was two tickets short for what they wanted. As the day went on, my faith in humanity was refreshed.

And, I was not hit by a single stroller powered by someone who could not see over the handles - or, for that matter, any other strollers.

Our fair day was a fun day. It was a good day.

Spending a day at the Texas State Fair is not an inexpensive outing. Admission tickets are reasonable, but bottles of soda that are 79 cents at a gas station are nearly four dollars at the fair. Funnel cakes are close to $5.00 (but worth every penny!). The rides average around $5.00. It doesn’t take long for these things to add up to a pretty pricy day, especially for a family.

I wonder if people were so pleasant and in such good moods because this year going to the fair was a big treat for themselves and their family. Did a day at the fair represent several weeks or months of saving? Is this a family’s vacation for the year? Are people so worried and stressed about the economic conditions that they vowed to leave that all behind for a day and enjoy themselves whatever the cost.

I don’t really know why all of the fair-goers were on their best behavior last Saturday. I do know, however, that I am grateful that they were. It made for quite an enjoyable day.

In a later post I will share how our memories of the fair will live on. That’s what souvenirs are for, Right?

That Crazy Little Thing Called . . .

I have written before about how I believe it really is the small things in life that are the most important.   I am not talking necessarily about things that we might take for granted, but more about things we just don’t think about on a daily basis - like your thyroid gland.  How many of you have thought about your thyroid gland today?  This week?  This month? This year? I hadn’t either until about a month or so ago.

When I had my physical last month the doctor said that everything was great but he did notice that I had a goiter on the right side of my thyroid.  Goiter?  An enlargement, swelling, a lump.  In this day and age anything that is described as a lump strikes fear in our hearts and minds.  So I began the journey to get to know this goiter, this enlargement, this lump a little better.  I started by learning about “its relatives” on the Internet.  This is never really a good thing.  There is much conflicting and even more just plain wrong information out there.  I remembered from writing research papers in high school that if you find the same information in three sources it is assumed to be common knowledge.  I went with that.  If I read the same thing on three or more different websites I deemed it reputable.

Then, at the request of my primary care doctor, I sought information from the specialists.

First I had a radioactive scan.  This cut into two of my days.  On day one I had to go swallow a radioactive iodine pill.  It didn’t take long; it was simply an inconvenience.  The good part was that I got to go out for breakfast with a friend afterwards, something I don’t normally get to do during the school week.

The next day I went back for the actual scan.  I wasn’t too worried about the procedure until they had me lay down on a table and then started sliding me into one of those machines whose entire persona is a big, black claustrophobic hole.  Sensing my panic, the tech told me to relax, that it was not entirely closed in.  She also told me not to turn my head.  Well, the part that I could see was closed in.  The part on the sides of my head, where I was instructed not to look was open.  With a few mind games I was able to survive without embarrassing myself or my friend who went with me.  And, for being a pretty good girl, I got to go out for breakfast again on a school day!

A healthy functioning thyroid absorbs iodine.  By swallowing a radioactive iodine pill, the doctor was able to see how my thyroid was functioning.  The scan revealed that I have a “cold nodule” on the right side of my thyroid.  Though my general thyroid hormone levels are normal, this cold nodule means that a portion of my thyroid is not functioning.  A “hot nodule” is one where the thyroid is overactive.  Hot nodules are almost always benign.  Cold nodules can be cancerous.  Armed with my cold nodule in the right side of my thyroid, I went next to see an endocrinologist.

As an aside, I had this procedure done right around the tenth anniversary of 9/11.  We were watching a television special about the various commemorative activities being held in New York City and the security measures surrounding them.  One of the segments talked about how they had technology that could spot radioactivity - including people who had had any time of medical procedure using radioactive materials during the past two weeks.  Fortunately we weren’t going to New York City.

The endocrinologist looked at the scan results and told me that it was great that I had the scan, but that we were still at square one because what we really needed to know was whether or not the nodule was cancerous and there is no way to tell that from a radioactive scan.

He then said that he wanted to do a sonogram to determine the actual size of the nodule, another piece of information that seemingly was not shown by the first scan.  Nodules of one centimeter or less are rarely cancerous and do not require any further attention unless they grow larger.  Those nodules that are larger than a centimeter require more “getting to know you.”  Mine is 3.2 centimeters, which the doctor classified as “kind of big.”  Surprisingly, I hadn’t felt it.  Thyroid nodules can interfere with breathing, swallowing and can cause hoarseness, none of which have I incurred.  I am a visual person so I had to find something that was 3.2 centimeters.  The end joint of my own thumb is about that size.  It is hard for me to believe that I have something the size of almost half of my thumb in my throat and I didn’t even know it was there.  Sometimes now I think I can feel it but that just may be like that tiny spot on your shirt  - once you are made aware of it that is all you can see or, in this case, feel.

After assessing the nodule’s size the doctor said that he would need to do a needle biopsy.  He stuck a needle into the goiter, the enlargement, the lump, the nodule - four samples he took.  It didn’t hurt but it was a very strange sensation.  This was the first time that I actually felt like there was something in my throat.  As the needle penetrated the nodule, it pushed against my trachea and esophagus.   Like I said, this was a very weird sensation.  The entire procedure took only about ten minutes.  He then told me that it would take a week before he had any results.

How is it that nearly everything in this world seems to take only seconds and this was going to take a week?  I can order almost anything I want from Amazon.com and have it tomorrow.  And Amazon seems to have a hand in just about everything.  Can’t they branch out into medical testing?

The doctor told me that though thyroid cancer is out there, only about 5-10% of all nodules are cancerous.  He also said that thyroid cancer is treatable.  (Both of these things I knew from my research on the Internet but it was nice to hear them from a medical professional.)

As it turned out, it took only six days to get the biopsy results and they showed that the nodule is benign.  So for the time being it and I will remain constant companions.  The whole relationship will be re-examined in a few months.  If the nodule becomes too needy with regard to space, he will be surgically evicted: we’ll have to wait and see if such harsh measures are warranted.

In conclusion, in the past month I have learned a lot about that little thing called the thyroid gland.  Here are a few more facts (collected from my conversations with the doctor, not from my own travels on the Internet).

• About 50% of the adult population has thyroid nodules.  Most people have no idea that they have them.

• Modules in general are more common in women but cancerous nodules are more common in men.

• Only 5-10% of all thyroid nodules are malignant.

• Most thyroid cancer is curable.

• This little gland has a big job.  Its primary function is to regulate metabolism

This may be more information than you wanted to know about the thyroid, but if you are ever told that you have a goiter, an enlarged thyroid, a lump, or a nodule you will know exactly what that means.

Contracting Friendship

Time flies when you're having fun, at least that is what "they" (whoever "they" is) say.  The reality here is that time flies whether you are having fun or not.  I have had a crazy start to the school year - lots of little things that have kept me just enough off-balance that writing here has not happened.  I have written a little for other things and I want to share that here.

Earlier in the summer I came across an essay contest that asked the question, "Who are you most surprised to be friends with?"  Finding an appropriate subject was not the difficult part; limiting the essay to no more than 300 words was however quite challenging for me.  I wrote and edited and wrote and edited.  Once I had something that I thought made me happy, I had several of my closest friends (the ones that I did not write about in the essay) read it and offer constructive criticism.  I made some changes and then submitted it.

My entry did not make it into the group of finalists.  That's OK.  I enjoyed telling my story and just entering was a positive step for me.  I could not publish it any place else until the contest finalists had been announced.  Since that has now happened, here is my story about a surprising friendship.

CONTRACTING FRIENDSHIP

A year ago my husband and I were married – “take two” for both of us.  The biggest decision facing us as we planned for our life together was where to live.  The choices were my country house, requiring a hundred mile a day commute, or his city house, much nearer to work for both of us but holding unhappy memories and needing considerable updating.

The economy made the decision.  With gas prices,

commuting was a poor option for us and the environment.

We searched newspapers, considered fliers taped to the front door, and checked bulletin boards at home improvement stores for a contractor. Nothing felt “right.”  Then a friend suggested Paul.

Paul carefully listened as we explained that we needed him to make the house “different” enough to ease my husband’s ill feelings and restore the happy memories from his childhood. This was the house in which he grew up.  Paul said, “I can do it.” Work began.

The morning after our wedding we received an email from Paul that said, “Congratulations and thank you for letting me take part in creating your new home.”  We were deeply touched and knew we had definitely chosen the perfect contractor.

During this time Paul was caring for his aging mother and his only sibling, who was fighting a losing battle with cancer.  Each day we checked on the house and Paul’s brother.  On a September evening I suddenly felt a nudge to check my email.  “Marc is gone.” read Paul’s words sent only moments before.  This is not the kind of thing that happens between contractors and clients, but between friends.

Through our remodeling experience we have grieved together, healed together, reminisced together, laughed together (often about pink paint and glow in the dark stars) and grown together into true friends.