Slogging through

I have had nothing funny happen to me lately and it's that time of year where in MO we are just slogging through till spring.
It's supposed to be 50 degrees by Sunday.  I would settle for 40.  Either way, it's time to get ready for the mud.  I use old sheets that I have saved for years because I couldn't bring myself to throw them away.  They are perfect, especially if you have dogs, or really anyone at all coming into your house.  Let them come in on an old sheets.  Once the shoes dry off you can gather it all up and just wash it.  I have one sheet for that and one that I use to roll out noodles.
I sound like I'm 85 years old.  Some day I hope to be.

I am thinking of my family members in OK, AR and South MO tonight.  They are all buried under a couple of feet of snow and enduring frigid temperatures to boot.  I know just how they feel.  One of my cousins posted on FB today that the street crews were going up and down the streets but they weren't scooping any snow, just running with their buckets above the ground.  I commented that  there would surely be a farmer along soon to organize them.  I'm sure there was, too.

I am reading a book called The Oldest Living Confederate Widow Tells All, by Allan Gurganus.  I really enjoy historical reads, not to mention old people, and this is great so far.  Her husband enlisted in the Confederate Army at the age of 13 ("Thirteen, and didn't even have to lie about their age.  They had trigger fingers and some eyesight, didn't they?  Was enough.") and came home at the age of 16.  Talking about his homecoming she says:
      "Just back from the war, Marsden installed his momma in rented rooms.  He didn't talk to her about his own sad deeds in the historic mud of Virginia and Maryland.  She couldn't yet speak, which spared her mentioning bad local luck-her getting in the path of Sherman's firebugs.  The Mardsen farm had been leveled.  Though she still lived and breathed, this lady's personal best-her character, the priss and fun and fuss of her-was mostly leveled too.  Her ruined face and arms and chest spoke three words: Scorched Earth Policy.  In twelve minutes, she'd gone from Beauty to Monster.  A story there.
     So, two well-brought-up souls just sat together.  He would clutch his large hat on one knee.  She would hold a teacup, sometimes a full one, more often empty, always white and always Spode.  She slept with this safe in her palm like some child clutching its toy.  And she never rolled upon or broke the thing, and rumor has it she was buried holding her favorite bone china, comforting in the casket with her."

If you have never experienced the South, the Spode reference might not have made you laugh your head off, but it did me.  Sometimes life has a way of making you face reality.  Not necessarily if you are a Southern woman, though, God love them! I know I am going to really love this book, and not because parts of it will be funny.  Those who don't remember the past are destined to repeat it.  I think it's important not to forget, no matter how vile or horrendous your experiences are.  Sometimes they turn out to be the most important.

Which brings me to another piece of wisdom that hit home with me like a lightening bolt the first time I read it.  I copied it down into my journal, which my kids will get to read when I die.  I first read it Jan. 26, 2006.  It's from The Life All Around Me, by Kaye Gibbons.  She writes about strong women, often unapologetic strong women, always unforgettable strong women and this is the 2nd book she has done about the character Ellen Foster.  This is the best passage about the strength of women I have ever read.  It reads like a prayer, and I have gone back to it ever since.  It's a very beautiful way of looking at the whole sum of your life.  And you don't have to be a woman to benefit from it.  I put the lines in because it should read like poetry (in my opinion, and this is my blog, so try it my way here folks, you won't be sorry) and the underlining is also mine:

   "No matter where  you're living, I hope you sleep peacefully tonight and waken into relief,
 not so hounded by worry you miss listening for the reindeer feet, even if you've grown older, as I have,
 and depend on memories of thrilling wishes. 
With no regrets or grudges against the tin and timber real life around you,
 let it be time to bring every memory inside you like wood you place in the fireplace peice by piece, wish by wish. 
The old need that wasn't met,
 the wants misunderstood,
what you absolutely knew and guessed, what you dreamed or half-invented,
saw and heard outright or saw and heard in words you read and adored,
what was done to you and calls for revenge that you let burn away.
 Each thing is of the same good use, and burning together, continually, the light the bundle makes belongs to you, you're love and work, what you see by, how you are seen.
  Now I understand that the deeper the dreams and beliefs,
 the brighter and warmer you and the rooms you walk through are,
and you're safe now passing through old places, not dark now, more than sufficiently kept lit by you."

It has always comforted me and brought me hope. I offer it to you, in these dark days while we are still huddled by fires.  Winter is almost over.  Best get started on the spring cleaning, girls.  (Onward ho!)

And if you are in the aftermath of a blizzard tonight, I hope you have a book to read. 

.....It also is helpful to know a farmer because you are going to have to have a tractor to get all that snow removed.  But take heart, you're in America, and one will probably show up soon.

SSSSSTEAM HEAT

I am finally better.

Yesterday I went to work and blew my nose continuously until it was time for lunch.  I drove straight to Wal Mart and perused the pharmacy for some kind of something to make it stop.  It was just a bad cold, and there is really nothing you can take to "cure" that, so I opted for my old favorite (although not the same now) Alka Seltzer Plus Day and Night package and a new bottle of the generic equivalent of Vic's Vapor Rub.  Since I was there I also got a loaf of Rye bread, to make more of those wonderful grilled cheese sandwiches.  I was relieved to find it because Sunday I went to both stores that we have in town and neither one of them had any Rye bread left.  I can't explain why the Super Bowl would be a reason for both grocery stores to be cleaned entirely out of Rye bread, but I'm sure that one exists. I am less certain that it can justify the fact that I had to get out twice in terrible weather while I was sick as a dog to finally obtain some.

Once home I ate lunch and prepared my potion.  I called work and told them I was getting ready to take cold medication and I was pretty sure I was going down for the count, I would try again tomorrow.  I'm pretty sure they spent a good 1/2 hour Lysoling down the office, and more power to them, says I.
I did not waste any time choosing between the Day or Night type, as the thing I've always liked best about Alka Seltzer Plus is the fact that it all knocks me out like a light.

I smeared the Vapor Rub all over my chest, nose and lips, plugged in the vaporizer, positioned a box of kleenex and a trash can in the right places, crawled into my wonderful bed, and knocked back the potion.  It was bad.  It always is.  I only use the smallest amount of water I can to make it a smaller amount.  Drinking it counts as a sacrifice in itself, one I was happy to make.  It worked like a charm and I am happy to say that I slept for 4 hours.  Then another two.  Then, after getting up to do supper, I went back to bed about 8:30 pm.  I woke up without a runny nose.  This could very well have just been the limit to the runny nose.  Three days solid.  I went through a box of Kleenex each day. 

On vaporizers, I use the old kind.  The ones with actual steam.  Mine even has a little place scooped out that is specifically for you to put Vapor Rub in so that it will send it's penetrating steam all over the room.  It is worth more than gold to me, because you can't get them anymore.  Years ago somebody decided you shouldn't use those anymore, you should use cool mist instead.  I don't know who it was, but I don't think it was anyone who had tried a cool mist vaporizer.  When I heard it, I politely looked at the ground and said nothing.  The same way I did when probably that same person decided it was bad to feed babies before they were 6 months old.  I looked at the ground and said nothing because I thought it was the polite thing to do.  I grew up with steam vaporizers, and had been slipping mashed potatoes and gravy to small babies for DECADES at that point.  So had everyone I knew.  I hoped "they" wouldn't embarrass themselves too bad, because the fact was that everyone knew better than that.

I have never changed a thing, but "they" change their minds every 5 years or so.  I don't think most people pay them much attention either. But there seem to be some that don't have any common sense at all.  I wonder who raised them.  I'm afraid no one did.

And I am wondering if it wouldn't have been quicker and easier to call "them" on this kind of crap the first time I heard it.  Maybe we all should have?

I leave you with this clip of Georgette from the Mary Tyler Moore Show singing Steam Heat.  It was the one and only time they ever let her be the least bit sexy on that show, and it's from a time that I miss.  A time that did not seem so conflicted.  At least not to me.  I was, like, nine years old, but still.  A time when there were still adults in charge.  Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVrC6o9sEcU

Sick yet?

I survived the blizzard only to get some kind of sinus/cold thing that has brought me low for the last couple of days.  I have made my way through most of a new box of kleenex and have reached the stage where I can be upright without also being dizzy and breathe with my mouth closed.
My solution for this is rinsing out my sinuses with the equivalent of a netti-pot (NeilMed Sinus Rinse), gargling with salt water, and putting a couple of drops of alcohol in my ears at least twice a day.  That would be rubbing alcohol, just saying so that my more heavily drinking followers don't end up with a big mess in their ears.  Just old home remedies, but they work for me.  My children just hate to do all of these practical and free things, and I have to sometimes stand over them to get them to do them, but it is worth it.  Yes, I have insurance.  Big whoop.  I still can't afford to go to the doctor.  If you define "afford" as being able to spend the money on the Dr. instead of gas or food, that is.  But enough of the depressing stuff.
Anyway, the reason for this post is that I have discovered a wonderful new twist to grilled cheese sandwiches.  At least, I think I have.  It's new to me.
Arriving at the Cyclist's house yesterday, blowing my nose and breathing through my mouth, he took pity upon me and offfered me anything he had in his cabinets for lunch.  I don't mean to give the impression that this was a vast array of stuff, it was not.  But there was a can of tomato soup and enough cheese to make a grilled sandwich if I was willing to make it with Beefsteak Rye Bread.  I was.  It was the best grilled cheese I've had in years, maybe ever.  Normally I don't care for Rye bread but in this instance it was really, really good.  You should give it a try.  Unless this is something everyone has known except me, and then I guess you can just welcome me to the club.
The Cyclist offered to fix supper later, and after poring over cook books, we was torn between grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with cole slaw and bacon cheesburgers and tots.  He even went to the store by himself and bought the groceries.  This is a very big deal.  Usually he will concede to drive me to the store, but that is as far as he will go.  When he has to go to Wal Mart for a big grocery spree, he waits until midnight.  Really.  He honestly hates going there more than anyone else I know.  EVEN ME.  It's hard not to respect him for that, don't you think?
Anyway, he came back with groceries and we ended up having bacon cheeseburgers on grilled buns (the secret to a good cheeseburger) with coleslaw on top.
Unconventional but delicious.
I mean, really, really good.  I have had coleslaw on pulled pork sandwiches before and I knew it was good.  We decided to give it a whirl on cheeseburgers, and we were not disappointed.   So, unless this is also some kind of open secret, there is another idea.   Especially if you are stuck in the house and don't really care for coleslaw, but have some on hand.  Try it as a dressing on about any sandwich and I think you will like it.
I felt so much better this morning, having not had to blow my nose constantly and being able to breathe with my mouth shut and everything, I offered to make breakfast.
I made potato cakes, which were ready to go, only had to be cooked, and an omelet.  Easy, right?  Easy if you are used to cooking on an electric stove instead of gas and you don't have someone talking non-stop.  Electric stoves do not hold a candle to gas stoves when it comes to speed or effeciency.  I got two skillets warmed up, but not hot enough.  Finally when they got hot enough to put the food in, suddenly they were really too hot, and my onions were burning before I could get the omelet poured in, the potato cakes were just right but needed more oil, AND the Cyclist was going on and on about something to do with politics which I was trying to listen to but did not really care to hear or discuss at this particular time. 
About the time I was turning the potato cakes and trying to keep the omelet from burning and randomly saying "uh -huh" as if I was listening closely, he says something to the effect of "Oh, you're making really little ones, huh." 
This did not over well.  I was proud that I pretty politely said "Listen, I cannot deal with doing all of this, and listening to you, AND having you criticize me at the same time" (So for the love of God SHUT UP)  I didn't say that last part, but he must have heard it, because the next words I remember hearing him say were "I'm not saying anything else".    I gave him a big thumbs up on that one and managed to save the (small, apparently!) potato cakes from burning.
We are pretty good at fighting.  Which is to say, we are pretty good at accurately stating the problem and then mulling over how we can compromise on something we can both live with.
This gets easier with age, not least because the list of things you really care about is so much shorter once you reach a certain age.
We were able not only to have a civil discussion about why what he said hit me wrong (It was the pressure!  Everything was going wrong at the same time!!), but when I mentioned a few minutes later that he needed a smaller spatula, he jumped up, grabbed one of the two he had, cut the edges off of it and it worked PERFECTLY.  Again, he was my hero.
I should probably mention that the Cyclist used to tell me to use his "little" spatula, and I had the sad job of informing him that his "little" spatula was in fact a cheese slicer.  It seemed mean to tell him, but downright rude not to.  He now knows the difference, thanks to me. 

So I guess the moral of this story is two-fold.
1) You can have some scrumptious meals at home using imagination instead of money.
2) Sometimes it's a good idea to just be quiet for awhile.

And now, I am going to gargle again and lay back down.
I hope you are warm, and well today.
Play fair.  Be as nice as you can, and if you can't be nice, be honest.
In 4 more weeks it will be March.  We about have this one whipped.  Barring more blizzards, but that goes without saying, right?