Sunrise, Sunset

He was twelve that summer of 2012. 

It's easy to recall his age by what year it is since he is a 2000 baby. 

We were visiting my parents at their lake home in northern Wisconsin. Will wanted to take the canoe out by himself and explore Will Island on his own. The family had tagged this little bit of land that stuck out of Island Lake after his name and he was always proud of that. On this particular summer day eight years ago he was ready for his own adventure. I stood on the shore and took this picture pondering the foreshadowing of what was yet to come. I was excited for him to have this experience to himself and to get a taste of independence that he could call his own. I worried a little as he paddled further out into the lake but we kept our eyes on him until he was safely back on land. 

This year we celebrated his 20th birthday a week early - with a DQ cake of course! I strung up some crepe paper and got out the "You are Special" plate and mug as tradition dictates. I made a fancier than usual lunch that included scallops and shrimp per his request. We splurged for dinner too and got Mexican take out from a nearby restaurant and feasted on fajitas as a family! Wayne and I took turns recalling those days leading up to his birth twenty years ago and shared those memories with him on our daily walk. 

This year is different in that we celebrated his birthday early and not late since usually that day falls on the end of the school year and we wait until he gets home for the summer. 

But this year is upside down in practically every way.

As the sun rose early this morning he left on his newest adventure! He's headed back up to Minnesota to pack up the dorm room he left back in March and put it all in storage until the fall. From there he'll report to the Minnesota Army National Guard post in Mankato, head to the airport and fly to Missouri for basic training. He'll spend the next ten weeks at Fort Leonard Wood (not too far from where I grew up) where he'll be for his real 20th birthday next week. 

I guess eight years ago I saw this coming I just didn't know the details. I'm so excited for him to have this adventure! He follows in the footsteps of his Great Grandpa Hanson who was in the Minnesota NG during World War 2! We are so proud! And while  the feelings are similar to what I had watching him paddle away in the canoe, he's not wearing a lifejacket this time and we can't keep our eyes on him until he gets safely home. But I know now what I knew then ... his Heavenly Father won't take His eyes off of him. He loves Will more than even we do so that must be a lot. 

In so many ways I'm grateful for what's come from this lock down of our world. We've had Will home for weeks before he left for the summer. I had Mother's Day with both my kids!! 

Homeschooling took on new meaning!!!

circa 2013

We were able to meet his girlfriend who he thinks is pretty great!!(she is!) 
We went on many long walks together. 
We were able to have our family pictures taken (soon to be revealed!)
I had someone to help me eat my baking so I wouldn't eat it all. 

circa 2010

On to the next adventure! 

We're (Still) in this Together

By this time our homes should be in perfect order. Every weed should be pulled and lawns perfectly manicured. By this time we should have called, Facetimed, or Zoomed all of our long lost friends and family. The garage should be cleaned out, the attic organized, our books dusted off and displayed in alphabetical order, our clothes arranged by season and/or colour because ......... we're not going anywhere!!! 

Everyday I wake up with a million things I want to accomplish that day which is totally and completely unrealistic. What's more likely to happen is to wander into a room to innocently retrieve something and suddenly realize that "this can't go on any longer. It must be reorganized and thoroughly cleaned. With bleach." And before I know it I'm on my knees scrubbing something while inhaling toxic fumes. Or I check my email really quick* (wink wink) only to get lost on Facebook or Amazon and before I know it I've ordered wheat berries which should arrive in another month. 

On one of my Instagram tours, I came across a professional organizer and now I am hellbent on creating the perfect walk in pantry complete with matching containers and custom vinyl labels. I've spent hours on The Container Store website and have been walking around with a tape measure for a few days now. I've turned the crazy corner. I'm not going to lie.

This is my current obsession. I can't live like this anymore.

Today is the official first day that it's required in our county to wear a mask into any retail store. I went to Walmart yesterday and thought I'd try it out as sort of a warm up. My mask was lovingly made by a member and it is super cute! Nothing says stay away respiratory virus like chevron fabric. But my hair kept getting tangled in the ties which kept loosening up and falling down my nose. I also am in serious doubt that any mask other than the medical ones you can't get your hands on is going to do a lick of good. So I have to wonder if we're just doing this to make each other feel better. I, for one, do not feel better. As I was waiting in line at Walmart holding on to my mask so it wouldn't fall down, I had a hot flash. Not. Cool. Menopausal women should not be made to wear a mask. We should get a pass. 

Because not everyone's mask is as cute as mine, I'm beginning to feel like I'm surrounded by bandits ready to hold me up at gunpoint.  This is an unsettling feeling. Anyone could go rogue at any minute maybe because they can't find toilet paper when they really need it. 

As far as the hot flashes are concerned I feel like I'm being cooked from the inside out. While I've always considered the perfect temperature inside and out to be a beautiful 72 F, my post menopausal self favors a cooler 69 F. The house is currently set at 74 F for the summer months and that's just not going to be OK. Thankfully my husband has been very supportive of me tinkering with the thermostat. 

The worst is the evenings. Wayne says we sleep in a windstorm. The overhead fan is on high and I've got another fan pointing at me directly on the floor. I've learned a few tricks so far. I keep ice water to sip by the bed for middle of the night flashes. I also have repurposed my hysterectomy pillow (which has a pocket inside to slip a hot/cold pack) as a hot flash pillow. I put a cold pack in there before bed and keep it within reach to grab in the middle of the night and press against my core. It's lovely. My super helpful husband has suggested I bring a frozen water bottle to bed to cuddle up to and then in the morning I can use it for my hot tea. (you know ... because it will be boiling by then)

Anyway. Back to quarantine life. 

A friend of mine recently offered me some sourdough starter. I figured why not if she would also pass along some recipes. I'm sure there's lots of info out there on Pinterest anyway. Bring it on. I'm not going anywhere. 

It was sitting on my counter where I had put it when she brought it over. I started searching for info on what to do with it and where to put it. That's when I realized I just adopted another child I'm going to have to keep alive. According to the internet we have to give it a name. Then we have to feed it regularly. When I go to bake a loaf I pretty much have to stay at home all day to tend to it. This is a lot to take in. At what point do I start baking with it? Do I really need distilled water? Do I have to purchase a kitchen scale? Panic set in and I stuck it in the fridge. That's where it is now. I try not to look it in the eye when I go in there for milk or something but it taunts me. 

To make myself feel better I dusted off an oldie but goodie cookbook Artisan Bread in Just 5 Minutes a Day. My path of baking bread has been a journey. I got on the grind your own wheat train early on in my homeschool career because that what we homeschoolers are supposed to do. I invested in a massive wheat grinder which sounds like an airplane is landing in my kitchen. The result however, is totally worth it. There's nothing like fresh milled wheat. Even the smell makes me swoon with happiness and love. The bread recipe I make yields three loaves and freezes well so the extra work and time makes it more worthwhile.

After that I latched onto the Artisan Bread, etc where you make a batch of dough that yields 4 boules of yummy bread. It really is to die for.  The dough can keep in the fridge for up to two weeks. Near the end of that time the loaf that results is often more "sourdoughy" since it's been sitting there longer and fermenting, I guess. From this same dough I've used it as a pizza crust and even cinnamon rolls. Why did I ever stop doing this? Guess I got distracted. 

So I guess real sourdough is the next frontier. Or my nemesis. Until I work up the nerve, my boule is making a comeback and bakes in the oven as we speak. 

Easter - just the three of us pretending everything is normal

On the homeschool front, poor Hosanna. Homeschoolers don't get snow days and now they don't get pandemic days either. Heck, my kids barely got sick days because I never believed they were really sick unless they had a fever. Then it was all ... to your room you go so you don't breathe on me. Come to think of it, those were their quarantine days! Don't feel too sorry for them. I'd bring up the old TV/VCR combo and they could watch Disney movies all day and eat in bed. They actually looked forward to being sick. No, it's true. Ask them! 

So Zanna soldiers on with the rest of her eighth grade year while I pop in to grade papers, help her with review work, or teach her a lesson on something. It's quite a way to end my homeschool career. Not a whole lot of fanfare for her graduation or my retirement. We probably would have had a party/open house or something to celebrate but I'll have to come up with another way to get some closure. 

Zanna's a super sporty girl but every since basketball was over followed by social distancing time, she's done nothing active. Nothing. On top of this she literally eats a bowl of chips a day for her evening snack. It took 6 weeks for me to catch on to this and realize something has to change. So we gave her daily options. She can either walk with us, run on her own, bike with us while we walk, bike on her own, or play one of those old Wii games that make you move a lot. As incentive (coupled with a moment of insanity) Wayne offered to run with her. I don't know why he didn't anticipate the pain he would experience in the days ahead but ... it was cute while it lasted that one day.

He's also been teaching her to drive just in our neighborhood so don't feel too sorry for her. 

All I have left to say about this is thank goodness for beautiful weather and flowers that grow. If you have to stay home this place ain't too shabby. A Texas spring has lots of practically perfect temperature days and lots of wildflowers. My flowers around the house are perking up too and it's such a treat to bring them in the house to enjoy. 

We're in This Together

I'm so tired of the word unprecedented. I'm looking at my thesaurus for alternative words. My choices are in alphabetical order but the first one sounds pretty spot on: bizarre. What else do we have ... extraordinary (it certainly hasn't been ordinary but I wouldn't say it's extra ordinary but whatever), fantastic (Ha!), unparalleled, unrivaled, unheard-of, uncommon. Fine. I guess we'll stick with unprecedented. 

In these unprecedented times (I'll use it but against my will), our family life has retained some ordinariness. We homeschool so we're not used to going our separate ways every weekday morning and reuniting for dinner if we're lucky. Home is what we do! Wayne is usually around for two out of three meals a day. He and I regularly take daily 3 mile walks together. I almost always make all our meals. I'm usually in my pj's until 10am. Zanna and I daily pour over grammar, science, history, etc. Dad has already been taking over the math moments when Zanna and Kahn Academy don't get along.  Yep, in many ways it's just another day in our home!

Just laying around reading the Odyssey(for Lit class) 

What has changed is our weekly homeschool co-op. I teach writing and last week we experimented with a Zoom call. 

What has changed is Will doing his college classes online. After going back to New Ulm to grab his books and join the Minnesota National Guard, he drove back home and picked up his girlfriend from the airport on his way. For two weeks they daily packed up their backpacks and a lunch and headed over to church to set up a workspace. They were in and out in the afternoons running, exercising, or kayaking on the lake. We suddenly saw our son as the young man he is becoming: committing to serve our country, committing to his pastoral studies, and committing to the lovely woman he brought home. 

What has changed is how often we see our neighbours. We actually see them more often than before at a proper distance of course. We've enjoyed several social distancing get togethers.

Most people out here have a mule or Ranger they tool around in so we all meet in a circle and keep our distance. BYOB. That's my sad looking little folding chair as we don't have one of those machines. It's nice they still include us;) 

We also pass our neighbours more frequently on our daily walks as they are more likely to be out and we can chat from across the street. Helps the sanity and all of that. 

What has changed the most has been church. This has definitely been the most stressful aspect for us and I know for many other church workers. How best to meet the spiritual and sometimes physical needs of our members with the many changing restrictions has needed wisdom and creativity and an unprecedented (yes I said it) amount of love and patience that only the Spirit can produce. We mourn the loss of getting together with our church family because we really are a family. We struggle with not being able to give the Sacrament especially during these stressful times when Satan is looking for a foothold. We still can't even believe that for most people Holy Week and Easter, the highest point of the church year and in the life of a Christian, will be spent at home on the couch watching their device. And the burden and responsibility of what they are watching on their device falls on our shoulders as much as it depends on us. 

There's been so many variables out of our control and out of our wheelhouse that I have spent hours in tears. I've watched hours of YouTube videos only to learn how much I don't know. We've struggled with crappy country wifi and limitations common to the rural area our home and church are in. We weren't planning on updating our phones but we did mine in hopes of improving the quality and ability to lifestream. I've consulted over the phone with others that can help guide us in what to do or try. I've spent too much time looking at what other congregations are doing and ending up feeling like a bigger failure because we don't have the resources, ability, or knowhow to achieve a produced video, polished You Tube channel, or seamless LiveStream that goes without a glitch. 

So we've kept doing what we can do. We've made good old fashioned phone calls to all of our members, checking in and making sure they're OK. To the more extroverted that find these days of isolation especially challenging, I've tried to slow down and block time to listen, chat, and laugh a little over regular calls. Every week we learn a bit more about improving our online worship and have added a tripod and external microphone. We make mistakes. I cry. And then we start again. That's pretty much how it goes. We sure appreciate those texts or emails or comments on the phone from our members that encourage us and thank us for how hard we're trying even when we had to start over a few times, the sound echoed, or only part of something recorded. 

In these unprecedented, bizarre days of social distancing, mask wearing, hand sanitizing over compensation, and toilet paper hoarding I also find myself enjoying the slower pace. It's a chance to spend some quality prayer time lifting those up to the Lord that are on the front lines of this virus. There's a vaccine to find and  those that are working on it. There's governments and leaders that need prayers for wisdom and guidance. There are plenty of dysfunctional families out there that on a good, normal day have some serious issues so what is their world possibly like with them all stuck in the same house without work, increased stress, and decreased structure? The prayer list goes on and on. 

There's been time to try new recipes, get some baking done, organize closets ... the list is endless! There's gardening to do and weeds to pull. I've tried new makeup (thank you online Sephora) and finally purchased new makeup brushes (thank you Target) because I think most of them were over 20 years old and that's just gross. There's books to read. Yay!!! 

Now it is Holy Week and there's so much out of our control but in our home we will endeavor to keep the focus on Christ like every other year. It'll just look different this time. Some traditions will continue and some will be tweaked. With the internet there is such a plethora of information and resources that we can take our pick from. 

I've FaceTimed with a few dear friends from Ottawa. I've scrolled Facebook and Instagram (the rambling redhead is HILARIOUS) more than necessary but in a hunger for human connection. I recently bought a pair of yoga pants online that I will forever refer to as "my Covid pants" because who has the energy to put real pants on? 

And that's Covid life in a nutshell in the Halldo household. 

My Dad bought me toilet paper!!!! 

BC/DC

I feel like life as we know it will forever be thought of as "before coronavirus" and "after coronavirus". However we are currently in the no man's land I like to call "during coronavirus" and no one but the Lord knows when we'll finally be beyond it. So I guess we all just sit tight and wait. 

I'd like to not get myself or my reader too depressed so I'd like a moment to travel down memory lane to what feels like eons ago when Covid 19 was only isolated to China and the murmuring we heard regarding it was quickly disregarded in the minds of most of us who had other things to worry about like taking their daughter to the big basketball tournament in Ft Worth while still recovering from surgery. Ahhhh.  February. Let me stay in this moment for awhile, may I? 

It was the same weekend we celebrated Zanna's 14th birthday which is ridiculous that she's that age. I mean, what the heck?

My social butterfly was loving the fact that she got to spend her special day in a hotel surrounded by her basketball teammates who thoroughly enjoyed themselves by embarrassing and celebrating her! It made my mama heart all warm and fuzzy to see her so happy. 

The actual games they played weren't necessarily something to write home about but they were up against some stiff competition and they had all improved throughout the season. It was their final game of the tournament which was also the last one they played together that was the big winner and an answer to prayer for how to end her "career" as a Lady Hawk. She made two baskets!

We returned home with a carload of important items found at Super Target and Costco ... never imagining that I might want to start hoarding paper products in the event of a catastrophe. Nope. Never occurred to me. But Zanna and I did find some really cute dresses to wear for Easter. hahahahaha

Oma and Opa arrived to help celebrate their granddaughter's birthday so we picked up a cake just the like the one she had last year per her request. 

Around this time of rampant social hugging and shaking hands, I got word that a piece of writing I had submitted earlier had been accepted and included in a magazine publication! Holy Hen House is a new magazine for Christian woman and they had chosen the theme of "Hosanna" for their spring issue. Needless to say, I had to give this a shot and write about our dear Hosanna. 

We had Will home for his Spring Break the first two weeks of March. He drove home so he'd have his car and he was busy working on various projects over at Camp Shiloh. It was sometime during his stay with us that I started to consider a life without toilet paper when I noticed what I was seeing (or not seeing) at Walmart. Little did I realize that we had passed the time of BC and had now entered DC. 

We live in East Texas, ya'll. We're pretty isolated out here. We do pretty well living in denial for a bit longer than your big city folk. Add to that it's March and that means spring!!! The trees are budding, the wildflowers are popping up, and the weather is Love-Lee (when it's not raining).  Moods are up, the lake is sparkling,  and the sun is shining. This pandemic stuff does not fit into this world. I'm sorry. Go somewhere else, Covid 19 (if that's your real name). 

But then they went and canceled classes at MLC and announced online learning will commence in a weeks time. Suddenly there are national guidelines and state governors with their edicts so now church as we know it is compromised. And I start going through the house taking stock of the Clorex wipes, hand gel, and toilet paper of all things. And why are people buying water? Is something going to happen to the water? What the heck? Is this the Twilight Zone? 

Yes, yes it is. Welcome to 2020. 

And the People Stayed Home

And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still.

And listened more deeply.

Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.

Some met their shadows.

And the people began to think differently.

And the people healed.

And, in the absence of people living in ignorant, dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways, the earth began to heal.

And when the danger passed, and the people joined together again, they grieved their losses, and made new choices, and dreamed new images, and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully, as they had been healed.

-Kitty O'Meara

*I'm sorry I don't know more about the author or circumstances it was written in.  I came across it and it struck me. It's not overtly Christian but through a Christian worldview lens I read several things into it. 

Back to the basics. Listening instead of being too busy talking about myself. Reading good and beautiful books instead of scrolling social media. Stretching and exercising my body instead of laziness and apathy. Playing, walking, cooking, baking, writing. Surrounded by my family.

The poem clearly states that the World needs healing so I can conclude she believes it to be broken. And it is. We don't need a pandemic to prove it. Or maybe we do. 

Cultures are so far from Jesus and the message of grace and forgiveness that we need to think differently!!! Humanity is broken!! Death, war, calamities, heartaches, and pandemics are constant reminders that this world is sick. There IS more. You say a loving God would never allow this to happen to us if there really was one? I say a loving God has provided a way out of the doom that is sure to come. A loving God sent his own Son, Jesus, to walk this earth and live a perfect life in our place. Only He was in a position to do that because He is 100% God and 100% man. After living 33 years of His life perfectly, He was punished for the sins OF THE WORLD on a cross. The punishment that is rightfully yours and mine looked like (and actually was) God Himself turning His back on Him. I can only imagine. No hope. No love. No sunshine. Nothing. That is hell. 

Until there was healing. Christ rose from the grave and walked around for 40 days making sure there were plenty of witnesses and encouraging His followers, equipping them with what they would need when His heavenly body would leave this earth. His resurrection guaranteed ours, His believers. In Him we are healed!!

And when this danger finally passes and we return to "normal", it will be easy to revert back to our pre pandemic selves. But this time we will have His Spirit in us and working through us and we will see things differently and will slowly but surely make a new "normal". 

We will say, "Enough with the "woke"ness of today and WAKE UP to the needs of our neighbor!" Care about them more than about me, myself, and I. 

We will say, "Heaven is my home and while I walk this earth I find my purpose in glorifying Christ, growing in my knowledge of Him, and doing what I can to spread this message."

We will ask, "My spouse, my kids, my parents, my job, my church, my community, my government are Blessings and Gifts from a good and gracious God and how can I better love, serve, respect, and honor them going forward?" 

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from ourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:8-10

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." Ephesians 4:22-24

And for now don't forget - 

"Wash and make yourselves clean" Isaiah 1:16 (taken a bit out of context...:)

No Womb in the Inn

First off, I apologize for the groan of a title. When one has parts of their body taken out of them, what else can you do but find the joke in that? 

I also apologize if what I’m going to discuss here makes you uncomfortable. So in the spirit of “you’ve been warned”, consider leaving now if the subject of uteruses makes you squeamish. 

You’ve been warned.

24 years ago my Mom had a hysterectomy. She was mid-late 40’s which seemed at the time super old (haha) but too young to enter menopause. I knew the circumstances leading up to her decision and we all knew it was for the best. What we didn’t count on was a biopsy coming back that she had ovarian cancer. That was the worst.

Wayne and I had only been dating 7 months when it happened. He was with me in Minnesota when I couldn’t be with Mom in Texas. He was with me when she was diagnosed with cancer. It was our first crisis and one which proved to me that he was the man I wanted to have around for the long haul. He consoled me as I grappled with the possibility of losing my own mother before experiencing the loss of any of my grandparents. Surely there was an order to this sort of thing? 

The consolation surrounding the circumstance of Mom’s surgery is the fact that her hysterectomy ended up saving her life. Ovarian cancer usually doesn’t rear it’s ugly head until it’s later stages. They ended up finding it before it even traveled into her blood stream or lymph nodes. She didn’t need chemo and she didn’t need radiation. It was a miracle! She continues to be cancer free to date and she was inspired through her own experience to start the Comforter Ministry.

My aunt (mom’s sister) had a similar situation in her mid-late 40’s where they found cancer cells during her hysterectomy. 

The writing was on the wall: I need to be vigilant about keeping an eye on this. 

So yes, it really was a matter of time and my time has come. I’m mid 40’s and a few weeks ago I had everything reproductive removed because all signs pointed to repeating (family) history. I had a LAVH (you’ll know what that means if you know about these things). Thankfully it’s less invasive with usually one night in the hospital and a quicker recovery time overall. The reality is that I’m supposed to take 6 weeks of really making an effort to take time off from my daily routine and be patient while my body miraculously recovers from the loss of various body parts. 

Now that I’m on the other side of the surgery, it’s such a huge relief. I’m sad to say I did not approach the wait with grace and peace. I’ve known since the middle of November and set the date for the end of January so we could get through the holidays and then deal with it. My first reaction in dealing with it was to not think too much about it while still acknowledging I was having it done. Actually that coping mechanism lasted until about a week before surgery. Then I started doing what I normally do before something unknown is about to happen: Google it. This was when it dawned on me the enormity of the surgery and while we hear all the time that this is common and women are having it done regularly, this was still major surgery. I told Wayne I couldn’t vacuum for 6 weeks. He was shocked. 

I signed up for Hyster Sisters which … who knew?!… is this amazing website and support group online. I’m on this thread of ladies who had hysterectomies the same week I did so we’re all recovering at the same time. It’s the only place anyone of us can really talk about gross stuff that nobody else would surely care to hear or read about. Nothing is off limits if it’s related to this topic. Having said that I feel like I might know a bit too much about some of their sex lives ....

I also scrolled Pinterest and set up a new Board I labeled “Getting Old” to pin all things hysterectomy related. I found lots of blogs of women chronicling their own Hyster Sister story. I ordered a book all about menopause because that’s the train I’m getting on. Reading all of this information explains why the week before my surgery (that I’ve known about for over two months) I was filling my Walmart basket with Gas-X, stool softeners, prune juice, heat/ice pad, and a travel pillow that would become a hysterectomy pillow. This last item was made possible by some dear friends from church who at my request sewed a pillow cover to fit my travel pillow complete with a hidden pocket to fit my ice/heat pack. Made of the cheeriest looking fabric, Carin went so far as to quilt it making it extra padded and squishy. I also put in a last minute Amazon order (thank you Prime) for a tens machine. I had no idea this was a must until I read someone’s blog and suggested this as drug free pain relief. Truth be told I probably could have gotten by without it but Wayne tried it too and let me tell you … this will be nice to have handy for getting old creaks and pains. (we’re not getting any younger)

In the days leading up to THE DAY I cleaned my house, made and froze food. I baked bran muffins (for practical purposes) and chocolate chip cookies (no brainer). This busy routine helped to distract me and keep me from freaking out which I still managed to find opportunity to do especially when reading my menopause book. 

Like I said before I did not handle this with peace and confidence. I had a lot of anxiety knowing that pain was coming my way and after that hot flashes and possibly facial hair. This was coupled with knowing that this was the right thing for me in the context of my family history. The day arrived. Thankfully once I met with the anesthesiologist I was injected with some happy juice and given a lovely lavender/sandalwood essential oil patch to put on my hospital gown. 

And then at some point I don’t know what happened. It’s the strangest thing. I was being wheeled along the hallway and then … I don’t know. Which is exactly what I was going for. Nightmares of waking up during the procedure was not something I wanted to make reality. 

What I did not expect to find during my stay at the hospital was a friend. I knew my neighbor worked at the hospital occasionally but I really didn’t catch what she did and where. Turned out that she works the floor I recovered on and manages/organizes what happens on that floor. She picked my room and picked my nurse. Hers was the voice I heard when I’d press the button to call for the nurse. She would also stop in occasionally and see how I was and chat a bit just to make me feel a little normal. And she happened to work both days I was there. Isn’t God good? What loving care He gave me through her! 

So now I’m at the beginning of Recovery Week 3. 3 more to go. Gulp. 

My Recovery Team is doing a bang up job! I’m restricted from bending, holding anything heavier than a milk jug, pushing, pulling, etc. Wayne and Zanna are doing the laundry, filling the dishwasher, vacuuming, and generally getting/doing things for me. Wayne continues to be by my side through crisis situations to help me up in the middle of the night for bathroom runs, puts my socks on when I can’t bend over, and makes attempts to make the bed.  I just hope my team can hang in there! I’m a little worried because I really need someone to clean the toilets. Not sure how to grease the wheel on that one. 

I’m reading a lot. I mean a lot. More than I normally do which is quite a bit. I finally finished a cross stitch project I started over a year ago. I nap. I watch HGTV and way too much FOX NEWS. I help Zanna with her school work. If I have an outing I have to pace myself because I get exhausted not doing much. I’m still waiting for my first hot flash. 

Despite the short time we’ve lived here we’ve had neighbors, friends, and church family bring meals and come for visits. It’s so unbelievably nice to have this! We’ve had such a variety of delicious, healthy meals. We’re so grateful to have this help and support along with prayers! 

Everyday gets a bit better. I try to keep in the forefront of my mind that I only get one chance to recover so I’m trying to take that to heart and not push myself too much. It’s this aggravating back and forth of “it’s so great to have a valid excuse to stay in my pj’s all day and hail my biggest accomplishment as having showered” over to “I’m going to go nuts. My eyes hurt at the end of the day from using them so much between reading, watching TV, and scrolling Facebook. Will anyone clean the toilets or pick up that piece of celery leaf that fell on the floor that I can’t bend over to pick up?” 

Thankfully I haven’t felt a heavy sense of loss in all of this. I’ve got my two precious children. I was blessed with one pregnancy and subsequent live birth and am forever grateful I was able to experience that if only once. The old uterus served a purpose. We even got a souvenir picture for posterities sake - haha, gross. And if you’ve made it this far in my recap of the last few weeks, thanks for letting me acknowledge the elephant in the womb;) 

For the Love of Weather

“Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children - and the dogs? They know what snow’s made for.” C.S. Lewis

That is so true. I’ve seen it on my children’s faces a million times over the years because heaven knows they’ve grown up in Weather. 

It’s still a weird thing for us living in Texas. It’s winter. On Christmas Day my family was outside shelling pecans and the guys weren’t wearing shirts. Odd? We run around without a coat. We grill (or rather Wayne grills and I provide the ready meat). I wear sandals. 

To be fair not every Texan winter day is like this although there are plenty that are. Some cooler days are thrown in. It’s exciting to wear a sweatshirt! And I definitely don’t need much of an excuse to make soup or chili. We just enjoy the few days we have of this and before you know it it’s back to warmer again. 

We took our yearly pilgrimage back to Minnesota/Wisconsin for Thanksgiving. We met up with Will at my Mom and Dad’s house in northern WI. Thankfully we beat a snowstorm heading our way and we all managed to make it to their home safe and sound. We woke up to a winter wonderland! 

There was a second snowstorm while we were there that forced us to miss church on Sunday which was weird. Don’t worry, we went on Monday. Again we had the luxury of avoiding the storm and waiting until it was finished before the guys and kids ventured out to shovel, plow, and dig us out. Mom and I cheered their effort from the window! 

I was also pretty excited on that trip to get some wear out of my turtleneck sweaters, corduroy pants, and my super plush Eddie Bauer down jacket I bought our last year in Canada before I knew it would be our last. 

Sugar Bush making maple taffy in the snow

The quote above agrees with my recent reflection on Weather specifically cold and snow. I’m going to be honest. I’m the grown up Lewis is referring to here. I am done with snow. I’ve been over it for YEARS. Now all those past blog posts that I seemed to write every year in the middle of winter make sense to the state of mind I must have been in. It’s called: COPING

Living "Hygge"

Remember the winter I made cinnamon rolls? In an effort to embrace all things cinnamon and warm I tried to do this while NOT putting on 10 pounds. Remember when I took Vitamin D drops and got nervous when my “supplier” couldn’t hook me up fast enough? Remember my “hygge” kick? If that wasn’t a call for help I don’t know what is. Candles and cozy, warmth and down feathers, baking and hot chocolate … I was one wick away from a meltdown!!! Here’s the thing though. You bloom where you are planted and if you’re planted in snow and ice you figure out how to bloom with no sun shining for days. That’s what I attempted to do. 

But what I would never change in the world would be those winters - a cold, snow, icicle kind of winter … for my children’s childhood. When I think of the hours they would spend making snow forts in the drifts of our front yard, or the first day we would wake up to snow and take the morning off of school so they could play, or the once in a while treat when I’d make snow ice cream after a big snowfall, I’m so thankful for those days.  The times we spent skating on the Rideau Canal (the longest manmade skating rink in the world), or went round and round the rink of the local indoor skating rink holding hands and picking each other up when we fall, those are some precious moments to remember. How about careening down hillsides and clinging to the handles of the sled and laughing all the way until the bottom hits and we go flying off? The kids skied with Wayne on Mondays through the winter and the memories they have include whole days with Dad, ski lodge poutine, downhill skiing, and hot chocolate breaks.  And there must have been some kid left in me because there were those family walks we’d take right after a big snow and before the plows could make it to our neighbourhood and it would be magical. The way the rays of a bright sun in a clear blue sky glistens off the freshly fallen snow making it looks like a million sparkling diamonds are covering the ground… My children’s childhood was blessed by Weather and I say, God bless it! I’m thankful for it and the memories we have have been shaped in part by freezing our buns off (and not the cinnamon ones). 

Their childhoods are winding down. Will will turn 20 this year! He spends most of his college days battling snow only now he has to drive in it - if his car starts. Zanna complains she misses winter but I don’t feel too sorry for her. We’ll see what she says starting next year as she heads off to Wisconsin for her years of high school! Still it was fun to buy her a new purple down coat and matching accessories in anticipation of her winters to come. For now it can all go into the Rubbermaid container that all our winter gear goes into and is stored in the attic only to be retrieved for the yearly trip up north. 

This grown-up however is thrilled to have a break from freezing temperatures. I’m loving the sun that seems to shine more down here and I don’t need my D drops as much. I can see the ground at any given moment. I can still have Wayne grill. I can wear shoes (not just boots for 6 months). On top of that, this is the time of year where I get a reprieve from weeding, cleaning up dead bugs (or killing live ones), and being so hot I can’t bring myself to wear pants. It’s really a lovely time of year. 

I suppose if you or I don’t like the weather at any given time, we just need to wait for the weather to change because eventually it will. Until then, may I suggest a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls? It’s good for all weather.