wilson speak

wretch as wilson

There are some moments in life that are so good it takes just a second to grab and savor them.  Moments that you recognize the instant they happen.  Since I started this blog, I have been fortunate enough to capture a few of those moments in my life by writing them down.  Many more happen and fade from memory, but give me sweet little minutes of gratitude while I am in them.

Yesterday we were at the pool party my oldest daughter Jen had planned for the twins, who turn 8 tomorrow.  My daughters and I were at a table in a room adjacent to the kitchen, having a discussion that rambled here, there and everywhere, and enjoying some laughter along the way.  I was talking to Wretched Daughter (my youngest child) across from me.  I couldn't see anything but her eyes, because her face was hidden behind an impatiens I had brought in from the patio to make room for enough food to feed about a dozen kids and several adults.  I was thinking how weird it was to talk to Wretch and not be able to see her mouth, when she suddenly shoved the flower aside and said:

"I am tired of having a Wilson conversation with you."

That was the aha moment when I realized that once again, our minds were in tune and she had been thinking the same thing I was thinking.

Jen just laughed at us.

For those of you not familiar with a Wilson conversation, here is a clip from Home Improvement, the show that created his character.  No one ever saw his face, just his eyes.  (His face was finally revealed after years on the show.)

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

gratitudes

In the midst of a lot of chaos and busyness this week, I took a moment to reflect on the important things in life...and feel grateful.

Gratitude that there is technology that can put a small disk of metal and two wires in my beloved's chest and keep him alive to be with those that love him most in the world.

Gratitude for the unique adults that I gave birth to many years ago, who, with not much help from me, grew into people of substance, that I am proud to know...and love.

Gratitude for a seven year old granddaughter who will put on a wig and sing to her Grammy in her best voice, just to make her Grammy smile.

Gratitude for three rough and tumble, game loving, full of energy grandsons who make me glad every day that this is the generation when boys are bountiful.  (This is a private family joke.)

Gratitude for every day I wake up and have another day to look at the sky, and share a bit of my life with YOU.


NO PHOTO NEEDED FOR THIS....JUST THANK YOU.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

the long road home

Yesterday Stevie Wonder had a potentially lethal dysryhthmia caused by a problem with the electrical conduction system in his heart.  In other words, he had a total heart block, and instead of the normal 60-100 beats per minute, his heart was beating at 30 beats or less every minute.

This had been gradually coming on for a long time, but had worsened in the past few days.  SW was lucky though, because his yearly stress test was scheduled for yesterday.  Scheduled a year ago after his last stress test.

He lasted 4 minutes on the treadmill.  He was ready to go on, but the cardiologist stopped it, and put an envelope in his hand and told him to go to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit at the hospital next door.  We went straight over.

At 5PM yesterday, the cardiac surgeon spent an hour putting in a pacemaker.  Stevie Wonder came to on the operating table and told him he felt better already.  While the surgeon was closing the incision.  When Steve told me this, I felt like I had married Ironman for sure.

After bringing him home today, I feel like I am married to the Energizer Bunny.

We headed home around 1PM, and intended to stop and drop off some paperwork at my workplace, and get his prescriptions filled.  (He had not taken anything for pain since the surgery, because he said he wasn't hurting.)

On the way he decided he HAD to have a cup of coffee from Starbucks.  Of course he didn't say it like that.  In fact, our whole conversation home was a little bit tense on the weird side.  Driven by the fact that he was wired like a jackrabbit on speed.  (At this point, after two nights with little sleep, I felt like a walking zombie straight out of Night of the Living Dead.  And I looked like one too.)  Our trip home went something like this:

SW: You need a Starbucks Tazo Chai.  Go to Target and I will get you one.  And get a coffee for me.
Me: Ok.  There is a McDonald's too.  I can stop and get something to eat.
SW: I'm not hungry since I ate lunch before we left the hospital.
Me: I KNOW you AREN'T, but since I HAVEN'T EATEN since YESTERDAY, is there any reason I can't stop?
SW: Well no, I didn't mean it that way.  I didn't mean you couldn't eat.
Me: It sure sounded like it to me
SW: STAY IN THE RIGHT LANE!
Me: I thought I was! (I was in the middle lane.)
SW: TURN HERE! TURN HERE!
Me: OK!!!! STOP SCREAMING AT ME!  YOU ARE SCARING ME!
SW: Your driving scares the s**t out of me!
Me: I haven't wrecked us yet!  (I was ready to throw him out of the car at this point and drive across the pacemaker in his chest.)
SW: Ok I am sorry I hollered.  Turn here.
Me: I am.  I know where I am now.

He went in to Target and came back with the largest hot chai and coffee they make.  Which was probably a mistake.  We went through the drive through at McDonald's and I got something to eat.

A few minutes later he said:
I am sweating.  I'm hot.
Me: I'm not.  My feet are cold.
SW: Well I am hot.  Do you think it is the pacemaker?
Me: (I was thinking it might be frying his chest, but didn't say that.  I made concerned wife noises.)  No, that's not it.  Take your jacket off.
SW: I can't.  Because I can't lift my left arm.
Me: Then tough it out.  (My sympathy was fading fast at this point.)

A few minutes later, he said:
"Well I think it was the caffeine rush from the coffee.  Now that my heart is beating right I think it circulated faster through my system than it used to.  I must have been bad off for a long time and didn't realize it."

Me: Better cut that caffeine intake in half then, or you'll be sweating a lot.

The trip home took forever.  We stopped several times, because he would think of something that we HAD to have.  We finally made it home, and I dragged myself to the shower and put my pajamas on.  It was 4 PM.  By the time I got out of the shower, he had washed off, shaved, and fixed a full dinner for himself.  I dragged to the couch and collapsed.

He is still going strong as I write this.  I told him I was going to ask the doctor where the switch was on the pacemaker, so I could flip it off once in a while to slow him down.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

well...not exactly, duncan

Jack, our oldest grandson, was baptized today, and most of the family was there.

Dunc said "when you're baptized you get to start a new life and you have to be nice to your sister."

He better watch out or Maddie will be trying to baptize him in the hot tub the next time they are here.


















...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

don't do that!

I knew it was going to happen before it did.  My sixth sense warned me.  I should have been prepared.

We were in bed, and I had to go...to the bathroom.  After I finished, I headed back to bed.  Even though I can't see six inches in front of my face without my glasses, I had traversed this path for 38 years.   I noticed the empty spot on Stevie Wonder's side of the bed, and knew he had the same urge, and had headed down to the other end of the house, to his bathroom (the queen always has the closest accommodations, hence Stevie having to travel to go).

I turned back around to go get a drink of water.  As I rounded the corner of the hall into the living room, I saw it.  Him.  Stevie Wonder.  Right in my face, almost nose to nose.  At the same time he saw me.

That was when the startle reflex kicked in on both of us.

"@#$  $@&%" Stevie Wonder hollered.

"SHIT FIRE" I screamed at the same exact moment.

Then we both started laughing, and I fell back against the wall guffawing as I peed in the floor.

When I said "SHIT FIRE I JUST PEED IN THE FLOOR" he started laughing louder.

And so did I.  Sometimes you just can't laugh enough.


...life is good.~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

john and the sunset

I got home before dark yesterday, and unusual thing for me at this time of year when the sky darkens so early.  As I turned into the road leading home, I saw a beautiful fiery sun and clouds that were ablaze with the reflection from it.

I raced into the yard, jumped out of my car, and ran toward the house.  Stevie Wonder was standing on the porch watching me and asking what was wrong.  I told him breathlessly nothing and I would explain in a minute.

I knew every second counted and the sun would be gone quickly.  I grabbed Big Girl and ran back outside, and then out of the yard and back up the road, trying to find a higher spot to shoot from.  I turned back around when I reached the optimum spot and realized I was just seconds too late.  I took several shots, but the sun was behind the horizon by then.

Then I heard a small voice.  Not the voice in my head, a child's voice.  Faint, from a distance, saying the same thing over and over.

"Hey Grammy!  Hey Grammy!  Hey Grammy!"

I looked toward the end of my house and could just see him coming.  John.  The youngest grand.  On his electric four wheeler.  Riding toward me.

He got to the edge of our yard and climbed off his four wheeler and ran to me.  He hugged me and I kissed his face that was covered in the dirt he had played in all day, and then he noticed I was taking photos.  He started counting the trees I was shooting, then noticed the leaves in the road.  And the fun was on...

I started shooting as rapidly as I could, trying to grab seconds so I could adjust the settings on the camera, but John didn't slow down.  Finally I gave up and just did the best I could.  We played in leaves for a while, until I felt a mosquito land between my eyes and bite me.  I decided it was time to head home then.

John was not happy.  His Play-Doh face turned upside down and he turned on the drama.  I had to call for reinforcements.  Gramps.  Because Gramps and John have a special bond.  That guy thing.  Gramps had to threaten to pow pow his diaper (John's words for a butt spanking) before John finally gave in and went home.

Sometimes you just don't want the day to end.

...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

the holes in my heart

Grandma, Grandpa, and the Aunts, Unc and Mum

When we are young we think we are immortal.  Death is unknown to us, and we think it can't touch us.  Every now and then, when someone we know dies a young death, we are shocked into feeling our mortality for a moment.  Then the shock passes, and we move on, busy with living our lives, and not wont to dwell on death and the uncomfortable thought that maybe we too, are susceptible.

Then middle age hits, or in my case, older middle age.  (Because who truly knows what middle age is as the population lives longer every year?)  And suddenly, we are losing people we love, that we never thought would leave us.  But they do.

Tonight I found out another person I loved has passed from this life.  Aunt Judy.  And though I have thought of her over the years, I never thought she would pass from this world.

Before her passed my other mother, my mother in law, of whom there will never be an equal. Before my other mother was Aunt Joan.  And before that was my dad.  Before him my wonderful Aunt Irene.  And before that was my father in law, my other dad, John B.  Before that was my Grammy.  Before Grammy was my Grandpa, and my Grandma after him, and before that was my step mother, a gentle soul who showed me kindness and love when I was so homesick I thought I would die.  There have been other family members and loved ones, but these people impacted my life and changed me as a person.  And with their deaths, I changed again.

I have lost, but I have also gained.  And learned life's most valuable lesson.

my sisters laughter and love is contagious

Live every moment.  Be aware of those moments.  Once gone, they cannot be regained.  All you will have left is what your mind and heart capture in memories.

Don't waste a single moment.  There will be no chance to relive them.  So live them, savor them.  Open your eyes and look.  Feel.  Taste.  Smell.  Touch.  And love each moment, each day as though they were your last.

My life is better for having Aunt Judy and my other family in it.  They can't be replaced.  Aunt Judy was unique, there was no one else like her, and never will be.

They have left holes in my heart that can never be filled.

...life is truly good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

clash of the tight-ans

Thanksgiving was different this year.  In our family it is always a bit different but we manage to hang on to several traditions so it seems a little less bizarre.

There is the traditional turkey and dressing.  You can read about how that usually goes for me here.  This year was no different.  Turkey, dressing, and we divided up the sides with everyone making what they usually specialize in.  Macaroni and cheese and deviled eggs for Wretch.  Jen did the beans and potato salad, and threw in a couple of pies.  I did the  turkey and dressing, and pies.  (I cheated and bought the pies.  I reasoned that wasn't really cheating when you work, that was being organized and thinking ahead, something I lack most of the time.)

Wretch called me the night before Thanksgiving.  She was sick, I mean really sick.  I could hear her slinging snot on the phone.  I cringed, hoping I wouldn't catch it just by talking to her.

Wretch: Mom, do you think I should be making deviled eggs?
Me: Why not?
Wretch: Because I am sick and I thought someone might catch it if I handled eggs they put in their mouth.
Me: Not unless you get snot on them.
Wretch: Really?
Me: Yes, if your nose is running, put some toilet paper up both nostrils, then wash your hands really good with soap and water, and don't touch your face while you are making the eggs.  It should be ok then.
Wretch: Ok. (She was laughing about the toilet paper, but it is an old trick I learned years ago.  Moms don't get time off for sickness when they have little kids.)

Then Jen texted me asking for a recipe for Lemon Ice Box pie.  WTF?! I was thinking, I haven't made one in years, and I was at work.  Did she expect me to pull the recipe out of my ass?

I did the next best thing.  I Googled a recipe and texted her back the link.

So far, things were going smoothly.  Too smoothly.  The hair on the back of my neck told me it wasn't a good thing.  My karma was going too well.

My karma did a 360 on Thanksgiving morning when I was running late (as usual) and trying to get ready.  It had taken me three hours to get headed to the shower after puttering all over the house.  I picked out some cute cable patterned tights, a black skirt, and a black top to wear.  (Everyone knows if you wear black on Thanksgiving you can eat twice and much and your bloated stomach won't show.)

I got out of the shower, lotioned up all over per my usual routine, then started to put my tights on.

That was when the war began.  I put my foot in one foot of the tights, and pulled it up.  All the way up my thigh.  Then I lifted my other foot and tried to put it in the other foot of the tights.  That was when I realized that I couldn't get my foot up high enough to get in the top of the tights that were located around my hips, because to do that would have required the agility of a gymnast.  I tried jacknifing my foot as high as I could get it, got the tip of my foot stuck in the waist of the tights, and fell back against the glass door of the shower, sliding all the way down to the floor.

I stood back up, pulled the tights back down around my ankles, then stuck both feet in at the same time.  That worked.  By now I was sweating.  Not a good feeling when you just got out of the shower and are standing in a tiny room with steam still hanging in the air around your head.

I pulled the tights up.  Then realized my feet were located about midway in the calf of the tights, with the feet trailing off in the floor, empty of human flesh.  So I grabbed the tights at the feet and started working them up my legs.  That was when I discovered the split nail I didn't know I had and snagged the tights.

I cussed a bit at that point.  Then realized it didn't matter, those tights were going ON my butt no matter what.  So I kept pulling, and snagging, pulling and snagging.  They were finally up, all the way up, I thought.

Then I realized the crotch was down around mid thigh.  I could wear them like that, but I would walk like a duck all day.  So I snagged and pulled some more, and finally the crotch was on my crotch, the feet were on my feet, and the rest was somewhere on my legs.  I looked down proudly.

The cable pattern on the tights was doing a grotesque twisted thing around my thighs and calves.  I did a few more snag and pulls, and then realized I had managed to twist the right leg of the tights and put it on backward, because it was digging into my crotch like a rubber band thong from hell at that point.

I took the right leg part of the way down, and snag/twisted it back around all the way to the foot, then pulled it back up and stood for a minute as I caught my breath.

They felt pretty good.  I could breathe and move I realized.  I looked down at my legs in trepidation.  That was when I noticed that I had pulled some spots so thin my skin was showing through the opaqueness of the opaque tights.  I pondered about redoing them again for about a half second, then said f*#@ it and finished blow drying my sweaty body and hair, got my skirt and top on, added warpaint to my flushed face, and hair gel to my limp hair, and headed out the door.

Valuable lessons learned about tights:
1. Never apply lotion right before you put on tights.  They stick like glue to your skin.
2. There is no exhaust fan big enough to suck the humidity out of a bathroom.
3. Tights should be put on in a public, dry air place.
4. Don't buy tights with a cable pattern that has to line up.
5. Put both feet in at the same time unless you enjoy popping your hips out of joint.
6. Remember that during a clash, the tights usually win.

Next Thanksgiving, I am wearing velour.

...life is very good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter