Christmas Treasures

I hate certain parts of  Christmas decorating.  For the last week, I’ve had the “stick” part of my artificial Christmas tree sitting in my living room. Yep, just an empty stick. Yes, I use an artificial tree.  The last time I had a real tree, my cat tried to climb it every day. I picked it up 5 times. . . and sat with a squirt bottle every second of the day. He’s not nearly as attracted to the fake tree, although I do have to be careful what ornaments are on the bottom.  I hate fluffing the branches after I’ve stuffed them in a plastic tub all year. I hate trying to figure out which branches go on which layer of the tree. I hate untangling the lights and figuring out which ones work and which ones don’t. 

BUT, what I love about decorating for Christmas is seeing all my special treasures that I haven’t seen in a year or two. I  always want to talk about them. Poor Josh got the stories again tonight. 

Here are some of my favorites! 

I got this one the year I graduated from FSU!  Some people think it’s weird to put things like this on the tree, but it is important!!

This was a gift from one of my AWANA girls, YEARS ago.  I’ve had this for at least 15 years. It makes me smile every time.

  

These were my mothers.   She loved music, even though I think she was tone deaf.  These were always on her tree, and she even used them at Christmas parties! Imagine grown up people, playing these little tiny instruments!

My granny made these years ago.  I have some she made for me, and I got some that were my moms.  Now that my Granny is 92, and she’s getting feeble, they mean even more.

This one was my Mom’s and when we sorted her Christmas stuff, this is one of the ONLY ornaments I wanted.  One Christmas my mom painted this set of wooden ornaments.  We all painted some, there is a terrible looking orange teddy bear somewhere that I painted and I think it was before I was even in kindergarten. It is HORRIBLE.  I did a dreadful job.  But Mom painted this one.  We called him “ The Little Boy.”  We used to fight over who got to hang up this one – I always loved it.  Here’s the cutest part: the front and back  are different:

We called him “Butt Boy” but only when Mom couldn’t hear us! 

This sounds really corny, but pulling them out is like seeing old friends again. I always go “AWWWW” when I see certain ones. I have ornaments that special friends have given me, I have ornaments my students have given me – and I love them all.

What will $3.00 buy??

When I was a little girl, my mom would give me a penny for a gumball at the store sometimes.  Now, there’s no such thing.  Any machines at the store cost at least a quarter. That’s craziness.  I know, I know, I sound like an old person: “Back when I was little, you could get. . .”  I know what it sounds like. But, this is important!!

It’s time for me to be done buying Christmas gifts. Because we only get paid once a month and because our paycheck for December gets deposited early, I have to be careful about Christmas presents. I have to start early. Not because I buy so much, but because I need to be frugal. (Note – I prefer the word “frugal” to the word “cheap” but in this case, feel free to read “cheap.”)  I decided this year, I’m giving everyone in my family a book and something else. In my attempt to be frugal and to be a good steward of my limited funds, I’ve been looking at used books stores and thrift stores for books. I know that sounds really bad – but people donate GREAT books and at most places, hardback books can be picked up for less than $5.00. Not bad when you consider most cost at least $17.99 to start with.  So, I’ve been haunting the Lighthouse Ministries store (picked up 3 books for $2.50 one day and yesterday got 6 for $1.50)  and I’ve checked at the several Goodwill stores.  But, last week I got the deal of the century. 

My nephew works at our local public library. I know, I know. . . if you’d told me my nephew would get to work in a library before I did, I would have laughed at you, but that’s the way it is. He calls me the other night as soon as he left work and tells me the library is having a sale.  Our library often has books for sale on a table by the door, usually $2 for hardbacks, $1 for paperbacks. That is a little more expensive than some other stores, but the proceeds help the library!! The library had purged a WHOLE lot of books, and was trying to get rid of some of them. There were books EVERYWHERE, double stacked on carts, on the floor under the tables, the tables had multiple rows. It was  book lovers dream!!  Here’s the best part:  if you bought a library bag for $3, you could fill it up with as many books as you could get in it.   Yes, you read that right. As many books as you could cram, push, arrange into the bag for a measly $3.  I made out like a bandit.   Here’s my library bag:

 

And here it is stuffed full of books: (I was in a hurry – I had a baby shower to go to, I KNOW I could have gotten more in there!)

 

 

And here’s the stack of books that came out of there:

 

I think I got 17 books in there.  Most are hardback, with library binding.  Such a deal!

If you have an opportunity to support your local library, JUST DO IT! If you never go into your public library, JUST DO IT!   There are vast resources available for you, if you just see what’s there and take advantage of them.

Recovering

A week ago, I had my gall bladder removed. The technical hospital term for this procedure is  “Cholecystectomy.”  Thank God it was done laparoscopically instead of the old way, which would leave me with a big scar and six weeks of recovery. Today I go back to the doctor. I expect him to say, you’re all better, go back to work tomorrow. My four little holes are healing well, one is almost completely healed, it looks like someone drew a line on my belly with a pink marker.  One is still a little red and irritated looking, one is still has a tiny scab on it, and one has some weird rash from the tegraderm stuff that was put on over the top of it.

So far, I’ve eaten regular food and not felt nauseated at all. I ate too much the other day and felt a little sick, but it was not at all the same sick feeling I’ve had for months. Nothing has felt like that. I even ate a grilled pork chop the other night and had no ill effects. 

I’ve spent the week since then doing a  whole lot of nothing. I had a whole stack of books to read – only read some of them.   I had a whole basket of movies to watch, every time I started, I fell asleep.  I’ve slept more in the last week than I have since school started. I would be watching something, and I’d wake up and realize I’d missed half of it.

I didn’t even get dressed most days.  On Saturday I went to Publix, the library and Big Lots, and had to come home and take a nap.  Yesterday I went to Sunday School and Junior Church and that was it for me.  I was so tired, I couldn’t go back to church last night.  I woke up this morning feeling bright and bushy-tailed, and I hope it continues. I have this horrible feeling that tomorrow at 3:45, I’ll be crawling to my car.  I’m glad I’ve got nothing much planned this week. 

4 Little Holes or Tummy Trouble part ???

When I was little, we read a story called “Five Little Peppers and How they Grew.” This is not that story.  It’s probably a good thing that I just took some pain medicine or I’m not sure I could get this out.

If you read this, you’ll know I’ve been having tummy trouble. I’ve been feeling sick every time I eat since April.  After multiple tests and waiting and more tests and waiting, the third doctor I saw said “Let’s take out your gall bladder” which of course, the people at my church had already diagnosed.  The surgeon told me that he couldn’t guarantee it would make me better, but he thought it would.

So, Monday, I went under the knife, err laser, or scalpel or whatever.

I could  talk about the loveliness of putting on a hospital gown or having an IV inserted or having my belly shaved and scrubbed. . . with bright orange stuff.  I could also go on about my fashionable orange socks I was forced to wear – a dreadful Gator orange color that actually are a signal that I’ve been anaesthetized and that I could fall down easily. I tried to tell the nurse I fall down easily all the time, with fancy orange socks with a  tire tread on them or not.  

I could tell you how fabulous it was to know that so many people were praying for me, from sweet Trevor to the people in my Sunday School class and to Gee, who I love dearly and who brought me new pajamas.   Or I could tell you how wonderful it was for my Pastor and Mrs. Debbie to come in and pray with my sister and my dad and I before they took me away, even though I was terribly concerned about being all covered up. 

I think another post will be about having to crawl from the pre-op bed to the operating table,  and feeling like I was Jesus with my arms all stretched out.   Trying to decide whether I wanted to laugh or cry and thinking over and over “What time I am afraid, I will trust in You!” 

So I vaguely remember the stupid plastic mask thing and the nurse holding it down on my head, and then the other nurse saying “Wake up! You  need to cough.”  I heard someone moaning and thought please God, don’t let that be me!! It wasn’t.  I’ll skip over the nausea  and throwing up part. . .  They told my family I’d be in recovery for four hours. I went into the OR at 8:55. When I opened my eyes in the recovery room, the clock said 10:15.  I was home before noon.  Utterly amazing. 

But here’s what is left.  I have four holes in my belly.  I don’t know how in the world it works, I don’t’ know which little hole the gall bladder came out of, but all I know is this:  the gall bladder is gone and I’m left with four little holes. Well, I guess it’s gone. The doctor says it’s gone. 

WARNING:  These are NOT particularly attractive. I put the penny down for size comparison. I’m amazed.

 

 

 

The clear plastic-wrap looking stuff is called Tegraderm.  It really isn’t plastic wrap, it just looks like it. It seals tightly, and is waterproof, because I’ve had three showers and it’s still there. I guess it comes off by itself.  It doesn’t itch but it is starting to peel off in one place and yesterday, the hole at the bottom oozed blood a little.

A list of instructions

So yesterday I looked at my phone after school and had four (yes 4!) missed phone calls from Winter Haven Hospital!  That was  a little scary – and they were all just a few minutes apart. So I listened to my voice mail and realized that DUH, since I’m going “under the knife” (or laser or whatever) early Monday morning they had some Pre-Op instructions for me.  I answered all the questions

1. Have you been exposed to anyone with tuberculosis in the last 10 days?

2.  Do you smoke?

3. Have you ever had cancer?

Some of them made sense. Some, not so much – like this one – have you used any illegal drugs in the last 10 days? Seriously?  Who answers that “YES, actually, I have?”  Do you have any piercings we need to know about?   Just my ears, just my ears.

Then, the very nice lady proceeded to give me  a list of things to do and/or not do.  Now, please understand, this whole phone call only took about 15 minutes, so she was rattling off stuff like nobody's business.  Here is what I can remember.

No vitamins, minerals, herbal supplements from yesterday on.  (No fish oil!)

No aspirin.

Bring your medicines with you.

Pack an overnight bag, just in case.

You do have somebody to drive you home, right?

Nothing to eat after midnight, only enough water to wash down the blood pressure pill. 

NO Aspirin.

Leave all your valuables at home.

Bring your drivers license and insurance card.

You may bathe before either the night before or in the morning before you come.

Use antibacterial soap, like  Zest or Dial.

NO ASPIRIN!

Wear something loose and comfortable.

Be here at 7:00.  Yes, that’s AM, even though your procedure is at 9. 

NO ASPIRIN!!!!!!!

The Perfection of a Pecan Log Roll

Oh. My. Word.  Is there anything in the world as good as a pecan log roll? Yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting some long-time friends at the Cracker Barrel for lunch. Of course, we wandered around the little store for a a while, after we sat for almost two and a half hours eating and chatting.  I bought myself a pecan log roll and just took a bite. 

It’s hard to describe how much I love a pecan log roll.  (BTW, I say pee-can, not pee-CAHN, or pe-CAHN.)  I don’t know if it’s the crunchy outside or the soft, gooey inside, but I just love it.  I think it may be a memory sense thing. 

When I was little,  during a couple of summers, my mom would drive my granny somewhere – and of course, we all went with her.  My granny always had a newer car than we did, so Mom would drive Granny’s car, and we’d have Mom and Granny in the front seats, and three little girls in the back seat. 

I remember one day, Patti’s door wasn’t closed properly and this car of very nice people kept trying to tell us, and Granny just kept saying to ignore them.

I remember always having to sit on the “HUMP” in the back seat, because I was the smallest.  Occasionally, much to the dismay of my sisters, I would lay in the back window.

There are pictures somewhere of the three of us wearing sombreros on one of those trips. I don’t know why we were wearing sombreros, or how they even fit in the car, but we were. One time our Aunt Julia, Granny’s sister, got us scrub suits.  There are pictures of that too! I remember they smelled funny to us.

This is why I think I love pecan log rolls.  My mom would stop at Stuckey’s. Remember Stuckey’s?? You could get a bag of “oranges”  - horribly orange gumballs, packed in a net to look like fresh picked oranges. They tasted a lot like orange Tic-Tacs, which taste a lot like baby aspirin, but they were sort of pretty.  I think the reason we stopped at Stuckey’s was always to use the bathroom, of course! With five of us in the car, we stopped a LOT!   Mom would buy a pecan log roll, then when we got in the car, she’d pull out the tiny knife she always kept in her purse and slice it up into tiny, thin slices.  She’d pass them around, and we’d eat them up like crazy. 

So, as I took the first bite of that pecan log roll, all those memories flooded into my head.   Do I really love the pecan log rolls so much or is it the memories that make the candy so sweet? 

What I remember most. . .

When I think of September 11, 2001, so many things pop into my head.  I had a class full of children, who looked to me for answers.  That was the first time I’ve ever cried in front of my students.  I remember one of my students asking me if those were people falling or jumping from the Towers.  I remember a girl saying, “It’s falling – the whole building is falling.”  I remember t hem looking at me and wanting to know why people do things like that, and having NO clue how to answer them. 

I remember wanting to go home and be with my family.  We were all still slightly numb, we’d  just lost our mom in May. This was just one more thing in a really rotten year!  I wanted to see my family and just hold onto them and not let them leave.

I remember the look on the President’s face.  I’ll always respect him for his calmness in front of those children in front of him.  He didn’t jump up and run out, although I’m sure he wanted to. I’m sure that he, like all of us, wanted to talk to his family, especially Mrs. Bush, and make sure she was safe.  He seemed to age instantly. He seemed much older on September 12. 

The images are what I remember most.  The pictures of people running and screaming, with those confused, dazed looks on their faces.  I can’t imagine living in a country where that is normal.  I know that it happens all the time in some countries and I’m so grateful that it doesn’t happen to us regularly. It’s like one those awful monster movies where people are running as Godzilla stomps through the city.   The smoke and the dust. . . people covered with dust and dripping blood. I hate it!

But then, there’s this:

And this:

And this:

Something’s not right. . .

Have you ever read or seen something and thought it was FAB ULOUS, and then started to think that something really wasn’t quite right?? I’m always thinking that it’s just me, and that I’m just cynical, but in this case, I think I’m right.

 

I read lots of blogs.  I don’t agree with every word of every blog I read, but I  love to read and I’m fascinated with people, so reading blogs is like people watching, at home in your pajamas.  In my opinion, that’s the best of both worlds. I get to peek into people’s minds and can do it sitting on my couch, in my pj’s, and not look like a stalker.  Sweet, isn’t it??

So a friend told me about this particular blog that she likes to read. We like different parts of it, and for a while, I was kind of hooked. I added it to my Google Reader and everything.  But, all of a sudden, I read something that made me go “HUH?, how’s that work?”  I can’t remember one thing in particular that seemed “off” but all of a sudden, some stuff doesn’t make sense to me. 

So, I started poking around some online.  (Remember, I’m trained to be an information specialist – I love saying that!)   I found several other websites that reinforced what I thought, that something was rotten in the state of Oklahoma, I mean Denmark.

Here’s my dilemma – I read blogs of people I disagree with on many issues – politics, child-rearing, social issues.  I don’t have to agree with people to appreciate what they write. So what is it about this one blog that makes me insane?  I know the simple answer is just not to read it anymore.  But, it’s like a car wreck,  you really don’t want to look, but it’s hard not to.  I think it comes to this: don’t pretend to be one thing and be something else.

I’m weird – and it doesn’t take much reading of my blog to get that.  I’m bossy, and opinionated and think that everyone should agree with me. I admit I’m a terrible house-keeper, and I’m a terrible sport. I’m a bad loser.  I can’t keep plants alive and sometimes  I don’t think I should be allowed to have a cat.  At school, I’m one of the “mean teachers.” I get that, and I’m OK with that.  But here’s the thing --  I don’t pretend to be anything different – and I don’t want to read a blog where someone pretends to be something they’re not!

My Granny

Today is my Granny's birthday. She's 91. We saw her two Saturdays ago.  She's confused sometimes and she says mean thing sometimes. I'm not sure she means to be mean, she just doesn't have much of a filter left.   Last year we had a big birthday party for her.  I posted this blog post after her birthday. 

http://jim-merson.blogspot.com/2010/10/grannys-birthday.html

She doesn't live alone any more -- she's had to move in with my Aunt Cecelia so she can take care of her.  She has moments of confusion, followed by moments of absolute clarity. She asked us 10 times if that was our car in the yard, but then asked my sister if she still worked for Hospice. She asked me "what grade are you in again?" but knew I'd been there for a long time.  She asked if I got a job in a library yet, but asked Robyn if Josh was "her boy" about 6 times.   She has to use a walker and doesn't eat much, but still has these moments where she seems just like she always has. 

A Love Story

Have you ever wondered how different today would be if something hadn’t happened yesterday,  or the day before or a year ago or 10 years ago?  I do.  But, every now and then, I KNOW how a day would be different.  For example, I know as sure as I know my own name that if my mom hadn’t passed away in 2001, that today would be a very different day than the one I’m going to have.  Let me explain. . .

(By the way, I’m telling this story, so I’m telling it like I’ve always heard it.  This may not be the truth, it’s just what I’ve heard! So, if you know different, so sorry. It’s my blog and I’ll tell it like I want to!)

 

So, sometime is April or May, 1961  Betty and Bobby BOTH went to Belle Glade High School’s prom.  However, they DID not go together.  Betty’s daddy took her – she was a senior.  Bobby had graduated from Pahokee High School a few years earlier and he was someone's date (named Sylvia,  Bobby was quite the “player” and I’ve found several prom pictures of him and several young ladies.) He was apparently a good catch – he had his own car, had a job making decent money and the job provided a house and a work truck! What more could a girl want in 1961??? 

There was some hanky-panky going on, as before Bobby went to the prom with his date, he came to Betty’s house. 

 

Some sources say their first date was actually in February – they rode around with some friends in the car.  I’ve heard it this way: the tradition in Belle Glade was the day after the prom, everyone went to the beach.  Sylvia kept hinting that she wanted to go to the beach. Bobby kept saying he had to work. But, as the sun came up, there they were, Bobby and Betty on the way to the beach. 

In August they were married.

The next June, they had a baby girl.  A few February’s later, another baby girl.  Several October’s later, yours truly.   

Almost 40 years later, they are together, at the beach and Betty has a heart attack.  One of their first dates, at the beach. Their last date, at the beach. 

 

 

 

 

Now, here’s how I know today would be different.  Today, would be my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary.  If things were different, we’d be having a BIG party.  Mom was most happy surrounded by lots of people. for their 25th anniversary,  we  had a party for them.  Mom made dresses for all three of us, and one for herself.  Everybody came – it was a big deal. My nephew Ken was a baby, rolling around in a walker.  I was still in high school!! I don’t know how we managed to do it!   I can only imagine what kind of stuff we’d have to do for this one!! The fact that today is a Saturday would have made it much easier for everyone, but we’d be running around like crazy this morning, getting everything ready. 

Not many people I know  had parents who were still  married to each other and only to each other.  In a high school class once, I was the only one.  I am very blessed to have parents who loved each other, truly, until “death did they part.” 

Tummy Trouble Part 2

So, after my doctor did blood work, he sent me for an ultrasound.  You need to understand, I have been mostly healthy except for a small round with hepatitis when I was in the 7th grade – many moons ago.  Except for that, I’ve never even spent one night in a hospital, so this whole testing thing was new to me.  Additionally, I had to go to the Regency for my ultrasound, which is where babies are delivered. I was sure that someone was going to see me going into or coming out of the Regency and put two and two together. . .and get FIVE.  AND it happened. I was telling people at church about my ultrasound and someone asked “Are you expecting?”” NO, NO, a 1000 times NO!!!

The nice thing was, the lady who did my ultrasound warms her gel. I had been warned to watch out for cold gel, but she keeps her nice and warm.  It wasn’t very bad, she just runs that little thing all over you. I could have fallen asleep. I kept trying to see the screen – I wanted to see what she was seeing. . .

After my sonogram, my doctor sent me to a surgeon. He thought it was my gall bladder and needed to come out.  But, we all know how that turned out.

An Experiment

Hey, I'm trying something I read. If you work at my school or even if you don't, but work at SOME school, please take this little experimental quiz for me. Thanks!!

Being “Un-Friended”

I know in the whole scheme of the world, this probably really doesn’t matter, but it bothers me.  I HATE it when people “un-friend” (de-friend??) me  on Facebook.  It hurts my feelings.  I’m not sure why. I notice my friend count sometimes and notice it’s gone up or down. . .  but I notice it most when someone comments on something and I go to their home page to check on them and I can no longer see it and it says “ADD FRIEND.”  Sometimes I think people un-friend me because they are doing things they don’t want me to see they are doing.  My first thought is always “Oh no, what did I do to hurt their feelings bad enough for them to unfriend me?”  I always blame myself.  Maybe it’s really not about me. 

Tummy Trouble Part 1

A few months ago, (I’m thinking April) I felt really sick while I was eating my lunch at school and felt sick for about an hour later.  I felt nauseous and just “icky.” I assumed it was just school lunch – not so much what I ate, but the fact that we eat lunch in 22 minutes, including travel time back and from the cafeteria and restroom time! 

A few days later, it came back.  Eventually, it got so that every time I ate, I sick.  So, I decided, this is a good way to lose weight, I just won’t eat.  Unfortunately, even if I didn’t eat, I still felt sick.

I tried to notice if any food in particular was any worse.   The only thing I can determine is that tomatoes seem to cause the sick feeling to last longer. 

I kept trying to decide if it was just stress from school, or what.  Finally, I made an appointment with the doctor. I went to see my doctor on June 13th, the first Monday we were out of school.  My doctor drew blood to see if there was anything weird in my blood.  Apparently, if I had an ulcer that would have shown up in the blood. He said if the blood shows up normal,  I would have an ultrasound. 

Tummy Trouble Part 3–A PIPIDA scan

This entry is called Part 3, but I haven’t written Parts 1 or 2 yet. I’ve started them, but not gotten finished yet. I know, it’s confusing, but it’s the way my mind works!!

Yesterday  (Friday) I had the pleasure (NOT) of having a PIPIDA scan. When the doctor said “You need a PIPIDA scan” I of course, had NO idea what he was talking about so I had to Google it! Getting scheduled for the scan was another whole blog entry or may be best left alone. . . Short version – getting scheduled was  a NIGHTMARE!

So yesterday morning I get up and my sister drives me to the Nuclear Medicine section of the clinic.  It’s right across the hall from the pacemaker section, so you can imagine our company.  The very nice lady calls me in back and starts an IV.  Somehow, we start talking about school. That ALWAYS happens. . . She sticks in the IV, tapes my right arm so my elbow won’t bend and send me back to the waiting room.  Of course I’m nervous and have to use the restroom. which is NOT easy with either of my choices – A) use my left hand or B) take care of everything without bending my right elbow!

Then, she calls me back. . .

A PIPIDA scan is a check of your gall bladder.  If I’d actually already posted Part 1 and 2 on this topic, you’d know, I have been having stomach pains and nausea every time I eat since about April.  Doesn’t seem to matter WHAT I eat, just the fact that I’ve eaten anything makes me miserable for about 30  - 90 minutes afterwards.

So, I have to lay on this little skinny tray that looks like what they roll out of autopsy room on TV. It’s long and skinny, and honestly, I was a little concerned about parts of me being too wide for it!! They give you a pillow and one under your knees and there is an armrest on each side, but they are NOT terrible comfortable! You lay under this big horseshoe shaped thing that has a big box under it. 

The technician sticks some radioactive stuff into the IV.  She told me, “This will light up your insides.” The big box moved until it was right over my belly.  Then it moved down until there was only about a hands width between it and  me!  The nice technician said, “Okay, now it’s taking pictures.” 

You have to lay there, lie there, until your gall bladder gets to a certain luminosity I guess. It seemed like forever and I seem to have lost all concept of time.  I prayed for everyone I knew and listed them by name! I prayed about my job and our house and my daddy, for my church and all the people in it!  I sang songs (in my head of course) and I may have even dozed off.  Then she said, “You’re at 8, w hen you get to 12, I give you the other medicine.”  So I started praying for everyone all over again!

Finally, I guess I was glowing inside to her satisfaction.  She let me move my left arm,which was cramping and tingling up under my head which was MUCH better.  Then it felt like she put a fire extinguisher in my lap.  I’m not sure that’s what it was, but that’s what it felt like. I couldn’t see it, because of the giant box!  She warned me that the next step might make me feel uncomfortable.  She said “I’m giving you another  injection. This one makes your gall bladder think you’re getting food. (I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since midnight and it was after 10:30 at least!!)  She said “You may feel some cramping or some nausea, so know that! This medicine takes 5 minutes to go in, and then we take pictures for 30 minutes.”  

The big box moved so it was closer to my head and at a 45 degree angle.  The stuff started pumping in. The fire extinguisher thing (which I assume holds the medicine) began making this clicking noise.  I noticed that there was a particular rhythm to the clicks.  Almost instantly, my old familiar pain came back. . . with some extra! I felt nauseous  and spent the next 5 minutes praying “God please don’t let me vomit!”  Thankfully, He granted that request!  I could hear the rhythm change when it got to the end of the 5 minutes and then it beeped.  The technician came over and took it out of the IV. 

A while later, I was done. I guess it was 30 minutes, but again, I had no concept of time.  I do know, when I came out it was almost 11:30 and we started about 9:40-ish I think.  She had told me it would take at least  1 1/2 hours, but it would all depend on how long it took my gall bladder to light up. I guess it took a little longer than an hour for that part.

I left with a bandage on my arm and an ache from holding my right arm so still.  I almost couldn’t get up off the little tray thing – there’s nothing to push or pull on and I’d laid so still for so long, I was a little disoriented.  It was interesting, that’s for sure. 

My sister took me to lunch – I was STARVING – and we came home. Now I wait to see the surgeon again, and see what he says. . .

Pre-Hoarder???

In 2008, when I went to London, my friend Laquita and her husband cleaned my house for me while I was gone.  Ever since then, I think Laquita watches me carefully for signs of being a hoarder. She was amazed that yes, I buy toilet paper and paper towels at Sam’s Club. I have good reasons for why I do the things I do. 

First,  I have an unnatural, illogical, unreasonable fear of running out of toilet paper.  I know, it doesn’t make sense, I live alone. But, I don’t want to run out – I LIVE ALONE! I could be stuck for days, until someone came to look for me!!

Second, I am very messy! I go through LOTS of paper towels.  I also usually take 1/2 of the rolls to my classroom!  School paper towels are rough on the hands.  (I heard a rumor that someone once discovered one of the ingredients in school paper towels is recycled cardboard!)  Especially when my students are sick, I wash my hands frequently and I use paper towels. I prefer white, roll paper towels to brown, flat cardboard.

Today, while trying to clean some I found another reason why I might appear to be in the beginning stages of hoarding.  I am not organized and loose things!!!  I found a bag of glue sticks for my glue gun.  Yay, I’ll put them with my glue gun.  Imagine my surprised when I found yet ANOTHER bag of glue sticks.  (And then, part of a third bag!)  I know, it would appear that I could be hoarding glue sticks, right? I’m not, I just keep losing them and have to buy new ones because I CAN’T find the ones I already have!! I also keep a glue gun in my classroom and it is entirely possible that I purchased one of those bags to go to my classroom and it never made it. 

I don’t think we need to call A&E yet! I think I’m safe for a while.  I’m not a hoarder, I just am unorganized and clueless sometimes!!!

Cake Mix Cookies

A few weeks ago, I was invited to a lovely luncheon. My best  friend Laquita has three boys of her own, she and her husband raised three foster children (all boys) and now have had three exchange students (again, all boys!).  Her oldest son, Derek is getting married in November and Quita will be getting her first daughter in law. She had a luncheon for Emily to meet the women who will become her family.  I was invited, even though I’ve already met Emily and I’m not really family.  (Although I baby-sat for Derek when he was a baby, and Derek once wrote me note signed “your young husband” and one of the boys once wet on me when he was little.)  I went over early to help with stuff  and Quita asked me make strawberry cookies.   Here they are: 

  They were sweet, very “strawberry-y”   crisp.  They were good, even if I do say so myself. 

 

 

 

Today I made chocolate cookies.  I used my cookie press (Don’t ask WHY I have a cookie press – I have WAY too many kitchen utensils.) 

I’ve gotta tell you, these are the easiest cookies I’ve ever made. 

Here is the secret:  these were both made from cake mixes. . . Yes, cake mixes. It is the easiest thing in the whole wide world.  Take one cake mix, any flavor apparently works. I’m thinking lemon next.  Add a 1/3 cup of vegetable oil.  (For the strawberry cookies, I used 1/2 cup, but I think it was a little much. Much easier to mix up, but  I think 1/3 cup is sufficient.)  Add two eggs, mix it all up.    Put on the pan in teaspoonfuls, or use your cookie press.  Bake at 350 for 8 – 10 minutes. The chocolate ones took 9 minutes exactly.  Cook and eat!! Easy, easy, easy!!

For the love of. . .lychees

We have two lychee trees in our yard.  They were here when we bought the house, so we certainly cannot take credit for them. They are pretty trees, tall and graceful, and when the red lychees are ready, they are really gorgeous.  Right now is the time of year when the lychees are ready. The fruit is getting more and more red each day. 

If you’ve never seen a lychee, they are very hard to describe. The fruit is about an inch long, and has a red, pebbly skin. You have to peel them to eat the inside which is white and surrounds a large brown seed. I think they taste horrible. Part of my problem with them is a texture thing – to me, they look like a big wad of snot.  I know that’s gross, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Wikipedia says “The fresh fruit has a delicate, whitish pulp.”  Ick.

I live upstairs, and the two treetops are easily seen out my windows upstairs.  One is outside my kitchen window and one is outside my bedroom window. 

Here is the problem with our lychee trees – people steal the fruit. Every year we fight this battle.  One morning last summer, I’m in the kitchen in my pajamas, mind you and I hear people talking outside my window. I live upstairs – I’m not supposed to hear people right outside the window. I look out and there are two Asian men in my back yard, one up in the tree. They parked in our driveway, got out a ladder, walked into our backyard and were helping themselves to lychees from our tree.  I yelled at them and guess what they told me --  “We gave you these trees!”  Now, (again) Wikipedia does tell me that lychees trees are native to China.  However, those men in MY tree did not give me that tree.  I have this terrible fear that someone will fall out of the tree and it will of course be our fault!  So, if any of you like lychees, feel free to come and pick some. I won’t yell at you.   The thing is, if somebody were to knock on the door and ASK, hey can we pick some lychees off your tree, I wouldn’t care in the least. But to come in the yard, climb up the tree and just start picking, that’s just rude. 

My Church

I love my church!  Today we had lunch after church. We had baptism, (one of my boys from Awana and Junior Church was baptized!) and then we had lunch.  I’ve been to LOTS of church fellowship lunches, usually called “dinner on the ground”  but this was a first. Today we had STEAK and baked potatoes.  We have a couple in our church who have a ranch and they provided the steaks. Another family caters barbeque and he grilled the steaks.  They were FABULOUS.  I’ve not heard one person say they got a bad steak today. I like my steaks well done, so I realize that usually, I’m sacrificing tenderness for doneness. but today they were all perfectly done and perfectly tender.  They were absolutely wonderful. I left full, full, full.

It wasn’t just the food – we got to sit around and TALK and catch up with some stuff from people we see across the way sometimes, but don’t always get to really TALK to.  It was just a wonderful, wonderful time!!

We had great food, great desserts and great, great fellowship.  It was a great way to start this last week of work! 

My Heart Hurts!

Mother’s Day hurts my heart. I always miss my Momma on Mother’s Day. But this year, especially, Mother’s Day has been especially painful.
Tonight I went to a memorial service for a child in my class who lost his mom. I was (and still am!) such a mess when my mom went to heaven – and I was an adult. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be a kid and lose your mom. My heart hurts for him.
My friend Kathy has a daughter who has a brain tumor. Stupid, nasty thing keeps coming back. She’s so worried about her child, even though her child is grown. They’ve had one thing after another, after another. My heart hurts for her.
My friend Jenn, who has the stupid, nasty brain tumor, is about to become a mom. Her baby will have to come early so they can deal with the tumor. Her baby will be tiny – and right now, she (the baby) is breech and needs to turn QUICKLY. My heart hurts for her.
My friend Debbie Jenkins had a heart attack last Sunday. Her family is waiting, waiting, waiting. . My heart hurts for them.
My other friend is worried about her daughter – her daughter’s heart is broken. Her marriage is not turning out like she dreamed it would. The mother’s heart is breaking and she’s my friend. My heart hurts for both of them, even though I don’t even know her daughter.
I can’t do anything for ANY of my friends. I can’t make it better. I can’t bring my child’s mother back; I can’t heal Jenn or make that baby turn. I can’t help Mrs. Debbie wake up! I can’t stop a divorce, or heal a broken family. AND that makes my heart hurt. If I was having pains in my real, actual heart, you know, the blood pumping part, I’d go to the doctor and let him treat me. I need to go to the Great Physician and let Him do the healing. I can cast all my cares upon Him, because He cares for me. And He cares for my student, who seemed who seemed so small, but so brave as he spoke at his mother’s memorial service. He cares for Kathy and Jenn, and that tiny, sweet baby - who needs to turn around!!! He cares for “Charlie’s Grill” as our sweet Trevor calls Mrs. Debbie and for Bro Charlie and for Brian. He cares for my friend and her daughter and her family. He cares and He can heal all our hurting hearts!

He Knows My Name

There’s a song that goes like this:

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And He hears me when I call

I like that song, I like it along. But I thought of something the other day that made me like it even more.

I attend a church that is semi-large. For much of my life, I was the preacher’s kid, so everybody knew me. People all over the state of Florida still know me because of who my parents are. One of the things I love about my church is that I’m NOT the “PK” at my church. But sometimes, in a larger church, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. Most of the time I love that! But, every now and then I get in a funky mood where I start to wonder if I missed church, if people would even miss me. It’s usually when I’m in a feeling sorry for myself kind of mood. My logical mind knows that my church attendance and the stuff I do at my church matter to God, not to the people at my church. I know that, but still, every now and then I get “in the flesh” and turn into a whiny baby.

A while ago, something kind of strange happened and when I was getting out of my car and my pastor saw me! He called me and asked me if everything was OK. This situation wasn’t caused by him, it had nothing to do with him, but he was worried that I might be upset. He said “Sandi, are you all right” and he apologized for this thing, EVEN though it wasn’t his fault! It was right before AWANA started so I talked to him, and then went on through my night. Later that night, when I got home, I started thinking about the whole thing and I got a little verklempt! I was shocked that my pastor, who has so many other things to worry about, KNEW that I might be upset. I was touched that he CARED that I might be upset. And to be perfectly honest, I was amazed most of all that he called me by name. I wasn’t just Bobby Jimmerson’s daughter; I wasn’t Robyn or Patti’s sister, I wasn’t Ken, Josh or Makiah’s aunt. I wasn’t the teacher in Room 18, wasn’t just the AWANA lady or the Junior Church person. He knew, asked about and cared about ME!

Then it hit me – and I got even more verklempt. How much more amazing is it that God knows my name? He has even more things to be concerned about than my pastor. The things that matter to me, matter to Him. When I’m upset, He knows – and He cares. It says even the hairs of our head are numbered. He knows how many stars there are, and He calls them all by name. But He still knows MY name. My hopes, my dreams, my wishes, my wants, my hurts – they all matter to Him.

I love my pastor, and I’m so glad that through him, I was reminded of the great love of my God.

A Moment with my Mom. . .

Today I had a moment with my mom!  It’s hard for me to believe that next month, she will have been gone from us for 10 years!  In some ways, it seems like she was just here and in other ways, it was a lifetime ago. But today, I felt like she was right with me!

My mom was a sewer.  When we were little, she made all our clothes.  I didn’t love it at the time, since I wore the same dress three times – my own, then Patti’s when she grew out of it, then Robyn’s when I grew into it!  We have school pictures from one year we have on our matching dresses – they weren’t exactly the same, but it was all the same year!  She actually made Robyn’s wedding dress and our bridesmaid’s dresses. 

Later in her life, she started making baby quilts.  When Robyn was expecting Ken, Mom embroidered a quilt for his room, and I embroidered matching sheets and a pillow case.  We probably have those somewhere too! 

After she went to Heaven, I got all her sewing and embroidery stuff, including some quilts and quilt tops that she started and never finished.  I went through them the other day and found some, since I have a friend who is expecting a baby.  She’s not very far along, but I figured it would take me a while to finish it!  I found one I liked, got it out of the box and put it aside.  Today I took it out and got ready to work on it. 

Not long before she died, she had had some trouble with her eyes.  She actually had some procedure done to one eye and was going to have the other one done eventually. Little tiny directions had become hard for her to read.  I found the package of papers where she had enlarged the direction so she could see them more clearly.  Imagine my surprise, when inside, I found a set of needles that were still threaded with the embroidery floss.  It looked like she just put it away a day or two ago.  I wish she had!

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately!  I used my sewing scissors on Monday and thought of her!  When I started school, she went to work.  She worked at a bra factory, sewing bras!  She has a special pair of scissors for fabric and sewing, and there was NO mercy for the poor kid who used them to cut paper!  She had to get a really good pair for the factory, and they engraved her name on them. Every time I use them, I see her name on them! 

Then, just this week, someone mentioned something that made me think of her.  She always thought of other people!  My friend Nanette, connected me with a new, old friend on Facebook.  This friend’s mom passed away YEARS ago.  My mom thought it would be a good idea for us to keep her kids, along with her sister’s kids, during their mom’s last days, so that they could be with her.  To us, it was a little thing – play with these little kids, but to those girls who were losing their mom, it was apparently a HUGE deal. My mom could always think of the right thing to do! 

I miss her, but I’m so thankful for the things she left me!  Half completed baby quilts, a great pair of sewing scissors, and a history of doing nice things for other people! 

House Bill 7019–and Seth McKeel

There are a set of schools in Polk County  the bear the McKeel name.   It’s a charter school – which basically  means that special rules apply to them. They get to choose their students and have the option to get rid of those students, for a variety of reasons.  It’s no coincidence that a local State Representative is named. .  . Seth McKeel.   Today a group of teachers held a rally outside of Seth McKeel’s office.  Those teachers who were there disapprove of House Bill 7019 and wanted our local Representative to be aware of our feelings. 

This was part of his response: 

“Today and tomorrow the Florida House will consider House Bill 7019. . . a personnel initiative seeking to end guaranteed tenure by linking evaluations, performance pay and employment decisions with student learning gains.” 

Let’s start with some honesty here:  call it what it is:  Performance pay based on testing.  He goes on to say:

“I will be voting in favor of House Bill 7019 on the floor this week. . .”

I have a hard time with this part. He has already decided how he’s going to vote, regardless of what his constituents think, how his constituents believe and regardless of what evidence is presented to him.  Why on Earth is the House wasting two days discussing the bill, if everyone knows how they will vote already? Is it possible that they are just going through the motions, trying to convince us that they really care what we think, when they plan to pursue their own agendas regardless??

Later he says this: 

“In my 10 years of public service, I have voted for very few proposals that didn’t need some re-working in later years.”

This does NOT inspire confidence in him, his voting, or our system. 

This is what really gets me:

“There is a tremendous amount of political posturing going on with this issue. Please don't believe all the stuff the union is spreading about the "Republicans'" intentions or the bill itself...it is not mean-spirited, it does not reduce any teacher's pay one dime, it does not take away any current teacher's tenure, and teacher contracts will still be subject to the union's collective bargaining. If someone tells you differently, ask them to point to that section of the bill because it's just not true.”

The bill requires school districts to set up TWO salary schedules: A ‘grandfathered’ salary schedule for current employees and a new ‘performance salary’ schedule.  The law requires that the new performance salary schedule must be greater than the highest annual salary adjustment available on the grandfathered salary schedule.

· All instructional personnel hired after July 1, 2014 will be paid according to the new performance salary schedule. 

· Employees on the current salary schedule may also choose to move to the new performance salary schedule.  However, current employees who opt into the performance salary schedule must relinquish their continuing or professional service contract and agree to be employed for the remainder of their career on an annual contract.   Lines 580 – 586 say: 

the employee relinquishes such contract and agrees to be employed on an annual contract under s. 1012.335. Such an employee shall be placed on the performance salary schedule and may not return to continuing contract or professional service contract status. Any employee who opts into the performance salary schedule may not return to the grandfathered salary schedule.

Teachers hired after July 1, 2011 or veteran teachers who move to a new school district will automatically be put on one-year contracts for life and will never be eligible for job security or due process. Employees who move to the new performance salary schedule may not return to the grandfathered salary schedule and may not return to continuing contract or professional service contract status. 

The bill requires districts to fund the performance schedule at a higher rate than the ‘grandfathered’ schedule, yet it provides NO NEW FUNDING.  This puts our district in the untenable position of shortchanging services to our students OR taking money from the grandfathered salary schedule.

In addition, the school districts must begin developing and implementing hundreds of additional FCAT style tests and the new evaluation systems this year.  Some estimates say the total cost of new tests, technology and software could be over $2 billion, yet the Legislature is providing NO new funding.

After I read all this, I can’t decide if our Representatives are truly blind or are just choosing NOT to see what’s clearly in front of them. 

A perfect box

One of my friends gave me a Russell  Stover box of chocolates as part of a Christmas surprise. It’s the little box with 4 chocolates in it. I started thinking – I think that’s the perfect gift.  It’s already wrapped.  Even though I know it’s chocolate, I don’t know what kind, so it’s a surprise.  You can hold it in your hand.  It’s just enough, but not so much you get sick from eating it all.  And, last, but not least – it’s CHOCOLATE!! Absolutely perfect!!

Whatever happened to customer service?

I don’t really make New Year’s Resolutions, because I always mess them up, but I have kind of decided to be nicer this year.  I really don’t want to be rude or hateful to people.  Well, today was the first day I’ve ventured out of my house in 2011, and wouldn’t you know it, my resolve was tested immediately.

I have been eating a LOT of chicken soup.  Because I’ve been sick, I’ve eaten chicken noodle soup, chicken soup with noodles, chicken noodle soup with vegetables.  I’m starting to cluck!  Okay, maybe that’s a SMALL exaggeration, but I have eaten a lot of soup. So after my second trip to Wal-Mart to pick up my prescription, I decided to get a big juicy hamburger from Wendy’s.  I was craving red meat.  So here I go, into Wendy’s.  I got my bacon cheeseburger and started home. There was some sort of horrible traffic jam  and it seemed to take FOREVER to get home.  I know a traffic jam in Auburndale sounds ridiculous, but there were a whole lot of police cars, the fire trucks, just a huge mess. Our Wal-Mart was so brilliantly designed as to have just one way into the parking lot.  So I ended up sitting through three red lights  to get out of the parking lot.  It was like a conspiracy to keep me from getting home.  While I was sitting, I ate my French fries. I didn’t want to eat my hamburger because it would be too messy. 

I finally get home, put on my pajamas, and sit down to eat my juicy bacon cheeseburger.  I open it to see – a chicken sandwich. And not even  a REGULAR chicken sandwich – the value meal chicken sandwich.  I always order my burgers with no onions, mustard or pickles. This chicken sandwich was COVERED with onions and mustard, neither of which it comes with normally. That means it was somebody’s special order. 

So, I put my clothes back on and my sweet nephew Josh drives me back to Wendy’s.  Here’s where the customer service (or lack thereof) comes in. . . I walk in, with a drive through bag.  Nobody even notices.  I move closer to the counter. No, I’m not waiting in the 8 person long line to get my cheeseburger. I move closer and closer to the counter.  Finally, the counter person says “I’ll be with you in a minute.” Then, she ignores me.  After about 8 minutes a woman in line says “If you don’t help her, I’m leaving!”  She was appalled that I was having to wait that long.  Finally, the girl says “What’s wrong?” I show her my pitiful little chicken sandwich and show her my receipt for a double bacon cheeseburger.  She takes it and disappears.  About 5 minutes later, she plops a new sandwich down on the counter.  No bag, no tray, no receipt, no apology. Just the burger. 

Now, I’ve never had to work in a fast food restaurant.  My sister did and I understand it must be very, very frustrating.  However, I didn’t do anything wrong.  I wasn’t rude, I wasn’t impolite.  Wouldn’t you think they would have at least apologized?  I don’t get it – there are a million other fast food restaurants I could choose to spend my dollars.   The other people in line were more offended than I was.  I just don’t get it. 

 

BTW, I did check my sandwich before I left this time.