What's up Doc

I saw my doctor today. I'm not sick, this was for my yearly labs and check-up. My doctor and I have quite a history, we have known each other for a long time. He found my cancer, watched me cry and got me through my treatment and recovery. He watched me cry and counseled me through my father dying. He watched me cry and counseled me through my son's addiction. Let's just say, he has watched me cry a lot, even when I never cried (at least outside of his office). Well today, he basically told me I am getting old. Okay, not his exact words, but that was the gist of it. He gave me a list of tests and extra bloodwork he wants me to have done and then proceded to tell me that "many women your age blah, blah, blah." Of course, he also told me that my medication may need to be increased. Maybe that is why I am tired and having trouble concentrating. (Or maybe I am jusy getting old.) I think he is projecting. We are the same age. A couple of years ago, he had a heart attack and then lectured me on my lifestyle choices. Today, I wanted to tell him that I feel young, maybe he is getting old.

And now for something completely different...

Not really, I was always a Monty Python fan and I just wanted to say that. However, given my silence of late, a new post might be considered completely different.

I have been in a quiet, reflective, nesting mood. I have been cooking, doing things around the house, enjoying the company of family and friends. I have been recovering from the holidays, trying to get back into my regularly scheduled life. I am hopeful for the present and future of our country. I do not envy Barack Obama for the challenges that he faces, but I am confident in his ability. For now, I am content. I am comfortable with my life, I am satisfied with how things are going at work, I am pleased and grateful for my relationship with J. There is enough good in my life to greatly outweigh the worries and to keep me optimistic. I find joy in many things.

I saw this video this week and it made me cry. I am a big sucker for four legged critters though. My hope is that humans can be as caring and compassionate.

Just another Monday night

Work was really great today. We were busy enough to keep the guys occupied, but not too busy to be able to sit down and have a little fun. I had forgotten what it was like to have a co-worker who actually carries some of the workload. I was able to finish up December's paperwork (yes, I know it is January 12th) and to ship some of the contract work the guys have done.

Since being home for two weeks and then returning to working full days, the dogs will not leave my side when I get home. Wherever I am, they are right there at my feet (or under them). This evening was no different, while I was cooking dinner, I had to constantly watch, so not to trip over them. Tonight was clean out the refrigerator night. That means that I do a quick scan of everything that needs to be used or pitched and make something out of it. Sort of a skillet dinner ala Alice. It usually turns out quite tasty, the downside is that it is a one-time meal. I will never fix it exactly the same way again (though, that is sort of true, even for recipes). Dinner was a spicy Mexican number. It was going to be Italian, until the fresh basil was not so fresh and I decided to use cilantro and sour cream instead. About 20 minutes from fridge to table. I am amazed by the number of people who rely on take out or boxed dinners to feed their families. I certainly could not afford carry-out very often and I hate those dinner kits that come in a box. Everything they include, I usually have in my kitchen (only fresher, without being processed and preserved).

If I had a digital camera, I would absolutely have a cooking blog. Because, what I need is another blog to have to post on.

Welcome to 2009

We are now more than one week into the new year. I have worked a full week in 2009, after being off for the last two weeks of 2008. It seems that much has happened and the year is barely begun. Upon returning to work last week, I was told by my supervisor that I am never allowed to take a day off again. Yes, she was kidding, sort of. My worthless, piece of shit co-worker is permanently out of my group (and will probably be terminated). I will not go into details of what happened, but it was a series of things (one of them being pretty serious). Now, considering the terms of endearment that I have used referring to him, one would think that I would be happy, but I am not. It is not that I miss working with him, it isn't even that I feel he shouldn't lose his job, I just hate to see anyone lose their job, especially in this economy. I parade around like a hard hearted bitch, but underneath that hard candy shell, I melt in your hands. Oh, sorry that is M&Ms, but anyway, I am a big softy when it comes down to it. I am just glad that I was not around to be caught in the fall-out.

I am feeling pretty good today, but the past week I have been exhausted. I could blame all sorts of things, staying up late, returning to work, and all of them probably contributed. The real reason is that I ran out of my medication (for nine days). Whoops. I have no thyroid, none at all, which means my metabolism is contained in, and regulated by, a little tiny pill that I take everyday (except for the past nine days). This predicament was not entirely my fault. I was out of refills, so I had to contact my doctor's office, which was closed on New Year's Day. The next day I forgot to call and then they were closed again for the weekend. Then, the pharmacy lost my refill request, not once, but twice (or at least their automated phone system did). So about half those days were my fault, the other half, not so much. I will just say that by Friday, my body was telling me that if I didn't medicate it tout de suite (or toot sweet, if your a Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang fan) it would not rise out of bed another day. Lucky for me, I got my pills that afternoon. I hate when my body gives me an ultimatum.

It was also on Friday when my friend Bonnie (and my ride to work) mentioned that we should join the gym and begin stopping on the way home from work. This is not an appealing prospect to someone who has NO metabolism, but I may tell her yes, tomorrow. I used to belong to a gym, I looked better, felt better (of course, I was much younger then too), but now I am lazy. I don't like to exercise. I hate to sweat for anything other than sex. I do know the benefits will outweigh the hassles, so maybe. The other reason that I should join the gym, is my new vice. Cooking blogs! I love to cook, but I don't so much anymore, because it is usually just me home for dinner. However, on my vacation more people were around, and even when they weren't I had more time, so I cooked. I tried new recipes, made old recipes, made stuff up. Then I ate it. As if Thanksgiving and Christmas weren't bad enough, I ate my way right up to the new year. The damage is somewhere between 7 and 10 pounds. I would be more accurate, but being off my medication has caused me to retain water (even more than just being a woman) and my weight has been fluctuating. That might not sound terrible (yes, it really does), but that is a pants size and now all of mine are tight. So, as tempting as it was to just spend the entire week in sweat pants, I did eat better and made myself move (which is what I call exercise, since I hate exercise).

Below is my tribe of wild indians. Certainly chasing them around will take some weight off. Forgive the slightly out of focus pictures. They are taken with my webcam (not the best to begin with and I am still getting the hang of it).



I hope you all are off to a fine start in 2009. Thank you for listening to me ramble and whine through an entire post.

Worn out

Apparently, having the grandchildren for two days wears us all out.

It's all fun and games until...

My grandchildren are here for two days, they arrived last night. I had planned on their whole family being here for dinner (parents included), however plans change. As soon as they were in the door, my son asked if I would be upset if he and his wife didn't stay. "We just want some adult alone time." Never mind that they were going to have the next two days of adult alone time. Okay, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know this means, "Hey Mom, we really want to go home and have sex, lots of it, and we can't wait to get started."

The meal that I had fixed was soup beans, this was at my son's request (you know the one who chose sex over dinner). I also had cornbread, cheesy muffins, and chocolate silk pie on the menu. In the process of the children exchange, my son did manage to wolf down some beans, eat two muffins and lick the beaters from where I had prepared the pie. I am glad he wasn't going into his night of debauchery on an empty stomach.

The outcome of having less people than expected was leftovers. More specifically, one half of a chocolate pie. Today, after lunch, the kids asked if they could have pie. The result of three young children imbibing in sugary chocolate decadence, is three wild indians, running amok around my house. Complete with whoops and hollars and charging each other like mad bulls. "Settle down, before someone get hurt." The words had barely left my mouth when the whoops turned to crying. A head on collision, between the two boys, confirmed that the three year old, indeed, has the hardest head.