Bad blogger, bad!

My friends, I am sorry I've not turned out to be one of those folks who can "handle" a blog. I don't update often, I rely too much on grandbaby pics and tales to keep things alive, and I don't even feel guilty about any of it.

I did enjoy the process of blogging in that it kept my friends up with what all goes on here, but I also found I have very thin skin and can't necessarily take the heat in the kitchen.

That said, I'll shove a couple grandbaby pictures up here and give a wee ramble.

What I have observed since I last blogged....

Brown Sugar Cinn. Pop tarts are only good for 1 minute after leaving the toaster. Hot tea is only good for it's two minutes or so. I must have A.D.D cause it takes me a lot of "focus" to get to them in the window. I get sidetracked and then oops, cold everything.

My newest tea craze is starting my day with a cup of strong peppermint tea (trader Joe's preferred but unavailable in Boise, I have to make do with Stash brand) with some sugar and some half and half. I've never been a milky tea person but living in the UK where most of my friends took their tea without sugar and with milk, I learned to like the milky stuff. I'd never ever have considered putting milk in peppermint tea. I discovered it by accident. When I was back east at Sweetbaby's house (Becca's and Joe's) and many of you know I was very sick with bronchitis that wouldn't respond to treatment I managed to go out with the two of them the last few days I was there, just for tiny single stop car trips. Our first such trip was to Trader Joe's. I felt glorious to be out, to be well enough to leave my bed, trader Joe's was perfection embodied, it felt like the store itself was welcoming me and rejoicing in the gorgeous springy day.

First there were the samples, ahh, chicken tempura on little plates, two whole bites worth and a broccoli spear in sauce. There was a basket of warmed Naan bread both plain and curried. Then there were tea and coffee samples, and happy music, and balloons and perky employees and other grandma's pushing grandbabies in carts and chatting in the yogurt aisle. (One of them tried to matchmake a prom date between Sam with her grandbaby daughter who was making eyes at him) Sam of course, thought this whole taste of food in the store thing was the stuff of legends and he gobbled up his tempura and reached for anything I was having. Hot peppermint tea in hand, I looked round for a way to give him a drink too. I decided the way to go was to make him a proper baby tea and load a cup up with sugar and milk. I tasted it before handing it on, and voila, my new fav was born. Sam was more interested in the cup.

When we were leaving we got a helium balloon. Trader Joe's balloon colors are the hippest combo's known to man. There was a bright Irish green with darker green letters and my favorite, a hot pink balloon with orange letters, mondo cool. We got a whole days play out of that balloon. (of course being the paranoid factoid grammy I am, I was aware that popped bits of rubber balloons are the number one choking hazards for little one's so I made sure we eliminated said toy at the end of the day)

Grammy danced, literally to and from the door of the store....what more could one ask for in a day, the mercy of God, improved health, sunshine, a happy grandboy, a loving daughter, chicken tempora and N'aan and a balloon, all made sweeter and sharper in my heart and mind by the many preceding days wondering if I'd ever be well again.

Thanks out to my peeps Sharan and dear sister Angela who made their way to see me at Becca's knowing it was the only way we'd have been able to meet up this visit. Sis and I and Bec and Sam took in a local diner, the kind with the perfect comfort food for a recovering sick person. Sharan took me from Becca's door to a knitting store front door and enabled me to find some lovely red cashmere yarn to make my much missed husband a "love" scarf. Thanks also to my dear friend Lisa who prayed for me lots and tried very hard to visit me but my health window didn't allow it when it would have worked for her.

Having been at Becca's 5 weeks instead of the intended 2, and having been horribly unwell for pretty much all but the last few days, I longed to be able to make a few pleasant memories (vs scary discouraging ones like group trips to the emergency room and afternoons in doctor's offices) with very little energy to do so. I knew I'd have to trim my hopes and Rebecca's to a very low level. To do so I pulled out my trusty "what's your giraffe" (gorilla, monkey, elephant)plan. For those of you unfamiliar with this I shall elaborate.

When Becca was in her first two years of school (before homeschooling) and I would go with her class on a zoo trip to the large overwhelming but lovely National Zoo in D.c, I realized a few mins into wandering around said zoo with more children than I had hands, that the little one's pulled at every sign, every animal, every trail to every animal that came their way, each time exclaiming Oh giraffe, oh elephant, oh bears, I have to see bears, no, no I have to see penguins, yes this way, no that way....It seemed that 5 children could literally spend the whole day in the place and still pass one more animal cage and swear they did not get to see what they came for. So I took the little tykes in hand, lined up against a wall, got eye to eye with them and solemnly asked each one, IF, You can ONLY see one animal today, which one would it be? I then told them that our little band couldn't possibly see every animal in 3 hours and that we would have to be selective. I also enforced a "no changing your mind 50 times rule"...this worked a treat! and it became a life theme for me in relating to Becca's desires, and even my own.

I asked Becca, 5 days before my departure, "What's your gorilla" and she said Mom, I hate to break this to you, but I really don't prefer the gorilla's, I'd rather it be a giraffe." Hers was a shopping outing. Mine was to help her with some knitting she'd started, and work with her to figure out a new bread machine she got from a generous cousin but which had no instructions with it so she could regularly make whole grain bread for her household. Praise God, we got our giraffe's and gorilla's and even a penguin or two. We knitted and shopped (albeit with grandma collapsed on the fitting room floor trying to contain energy boy while his mama tried on some stuff) and drank Mocha's and even visited Cakelove to buy decadent chocolate rasberry cupcakes which we ate on the way to the airport (I kid you not, I spork fed Becca while she drove) We drank gallons of chickfila sweet tea (which God bless my son in law Joe and Becca, they drove 20 mins each way every couple or three days to keep sick mama in supply of a gallon at a time, they also picked up countless bags of ice to have it with)

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These are the things mama's live for with their kids, to help them learn and do and practice things that will bless them for years to come (ala teaching them to fish) It was very hard to leave, but I was so glad to be well enough to go home that the tears were mitigated.

The trip home, even though it was though Salt Lake City airport, a very small manageable airport, I was shocked to find out that I had a very hard time feeling like I was getting enough air in my lungs and had to walk very slowly to my departure gate, taking rests along the way. That was a real eye opener to how much healing I had left to do.