Hearts and No Babies

I'm just back from 2 days in the hospital after we all thought I was having a heart attack. The truly crushing chest pain that radiated into my jaw was a bit terrifying to experience. Turns out my heart is really, really healthy - yay - but I tend toward some extreme reflux (? I'd guess you call it that). This was a really, really expensive case of heartburn. I don't even want to guess what my portion of the bill will be. But, get this - I got to see my actual heart beating on an ultrasound machine. It was very pretty - all four valve thingies just pumping away. It was my little miracle for the day.

It is good to be home - I guess I'll be sucking away on Prilosec for awhile. And I'm going back to work tomorrow. There is a part of me that feels rather embarassed and shamed. I think it's the part that dreads to admit to mortality. Jerry and I thought it was rather funny that I carried no "complimentary" baby as I was being wheeled out the door of the hospital this time around.

Home Again and Hay Bucking

It's a real pleasure to be "back home". We've worked really hard to make this place reflect some life values and I now see that I was giving a lot of those up in my mind. We had planned to move to a much smaller place which seemed to make sense at the time - this place wants a lot of love and caring. But I was also giving up my garden and my root cellar dreams (here's a link to a post from Scrub Oak I with a picture of my "root cellar" http://happysheba.typepad.com/happy_sheba_pages/2008/09/jerry-and-i-had-a-bit-of-mix-up-this-weekend-wed-been-planning-tohave-our-daughter-tracys-children-come-for-a-visit-while.html. )I was giving up having enough room for the girls and the grandkids - and, let me tell you, I never realized how I treasure having a houseful of the people that make my life shine. It's strange now that we're staying here how I've stopped seeing the house's faults. They don't even exist anymore. Weird.

The morning promises more rain so I drove the truck for Jerry while he loaded some alfalfa hay. I think I love this time of year more than any other. Everything growing seems to be reveling in bounty. The farmer's markets have stands of colorful fruits and vegetables. The pasture grass is topped in golden grains. Our pumpkins and squashes in the garden intertwine around everything else growing there and escape the garden fence in their journey to produce, multiply, flourish. I don't buck hay - hell, I can hardly pick a bale up - but I do to love to watch the guys!

Dills and Comparisons

The mornings here in Colorado have been beautiful. Rosy glows, soft breezes. I often wish I didn't have to go to work every friggin' work day but, then, I really do think of folks who need jobs or are underemployed. Comparison is a wonderful tool to get you through the day, isn't it?



Today, however, was a stay at home work day. I made dill and sweet pickles. One of my daughter's boyfriend loves those dills. I didn't make enough last year so since he's still around I've pickled his own private supply. He'd better get a job and pop that question soon because this is as far as it goes. (I'll give him a break - he was in Iraq last year.)






I having trouble with this new blog format - the photos that I upload just pop up at the beginning of the blog and I have to cut and paste. Blogger is free however and I just need to figure some things out with it. I know, I know - the banner is klutzy and the layout is not so artsy. But there are veggies and fruits to can and freeze, so when I have more time I'll do something about it.

Work Week

Just back to work after a really nice vacation. You know you've had enough time off when you start to wonder about how your coworkers are doing. They all seemed fine and some of them actually missed me - strangely enough, those were the same folks I thought about during the last weekend at home. My little betta fish, Tic Toc, even seemed swimmingly thrilled. These are, of course, the small things that make up a Life - and these same small things also make going to work a satisfying and wholesome part of Life.

It's a suitable August evening on this first day back to work. For dinner I cooked up some chops, applesauce, and Olathe corn on the cob. The sprinkler is whoop whoop whooping in the soft twilight and there is one annoying cricket on the back porch. It's a very loud little guy and he better watch out because Miss May, the cat, is interested. We've got the whole week ahead of us. How will we spend it?

Scrub Oak Redux

How fun to be back. I already lost my first new post. Hmmmm. I'll stay away from religion and social commentary - there are many more folks who can espouse on such in a much more articulate manner than I. Not that these topics aren't wonderful, intriguing, and important. But as the Middle Child inconsummate?... well, Issues just reek of conflict. I really like moving towards Tolerance and Balance in the wisdom of my rather considerable years. After all, that's where I started this journey.

I think we've just made up our minds to keep our place and not sell after all. It's not a great time to sell, for one thing. But that isn't the deciding factor. More importantly, every time someone wanted to look at my home I noticed that I really, really did not want them to come. It wasn't just a matter of cleaning the place up, although holy tamoly, that has been one wretched voice mail to come home to of an evening. "Suzan? This is Barbara, your realtor. Tomorrow morning we have someone coming over to view your home. Hope this isn't too late to call." Ehwewwww! Not at all Barbara, not at all. Just let me clean up that bird the cat vomited on the upstairs landing.

So, I'm back to calling my home, my home. It's important to me. I was feeling very unsettled all in all. Jerry and I have been looking at the finances when he retires and I think we are fine (as fine as any work a day working folk, at any rate - small pensions, a bit of savings, mortgage up the wazoo). You know what has worried me the most about this house selling thing? It has been a worry about whether anyone could possibly like - or rather - fall in love, with my home. Not like I love it. And there is so much wrong with it by today's standards. Clawfoot bath in the master bath - no marble shower at all. In fact, no marble in the entire house. Rickety old gas stove (which needs the oven cleaned quite badly). Smallish closets throughout. Landscaped with love, not money. "Really ugly chicken coop" (could read the realtor's description). And, it's mine.