Twenty Five Years

Twenty five years has made us who we are. We tend to deal with life and each other with a bit of sarcasm softened with humor. Sometimes minus the humor, but usually with humor.

Due to some significant expenses both recently and in the near future, I declared this a cards-only anniversary. On Saturday, while doing some boring domestic-type shopping, I remembered to look for an anniversary card for my hubby. I thought to myself, “Mark never gets me a flowery, romantic card. He always gets me a ‘funny’ card. I’m not gonna get him a mushy-gushy card. I’m getting him a ‘funny’ card.”

I browsed through the cards, contemplating what said “Mark” to me the most. I finally picked one that seemed the most Markish.

Meanwhile, Mark was picking out a card that seemed the most Terri-ish.

Today’s the big day. Twenty five years. While Mark was still sleeping, I went to get the card I had bought him. And as I was getting ready for work, I found the card he’d left out for me to find when I awoke today.

 

I guess this means we’re compatible.

Those three little words? “Let’s eat out!”

Off to a Decent Start

Two days into January and I’m happy to report that I’m making good on all of my resolutions so far this year! I only hit the snooze on the alarm clock one time this morning. Resisting the temptation to give in to the desire for an extra hour of sleep, I ventured out from under a pile of warm blankets and warm dogs and braced myself for the cold morning air. I got dressed in my workout clothes, pulled up my hair, grabbed the iPhone and some ear-buds and drove off to the gym.

There is typically only a handful of vehicles in the gym parking lot when I arrive at 5 am. Today there were many more cars than usual. Normally, I recognize the same familiar faces during my early morning gym visits. Today there were new and ambitious faces. Said my friend Scott, who chats with me for ten minutes or so while he warms up on an elliptical near my treadmill before he heads off to the weights area, “It will be interesting to see how many of these people come back tomorrow or even next week.”

I knew he was probably right in his expectations but I secretly hoped that the New Years Resolutioners would stick it out. I remember how hard it was for me to keep going back at first. Some sort of encouragement would have made it a lot easier. I think everyone should have a friend at the gym to help keep them motivated. Maybe there should be an online service to match people up with a gym buddy. You know, you never feel as awkward trying to figure out how to adjust a foreign piece of weight training equipment when you have someone there to feel dumb with you or to laugh with you as you give it a go and realize just how out-of-shape certain muscles are.

 

I’m here to PUMP you UP!

 

I didn’t run today since I’m still nursing a pinched nerve or muscle strain or whatever it is in my back that I am impatiently waiting to move on. So far the ache has only moved down the back of my leg. But it felt good to move while I was moving, even if it felt tight and painful again as soon as I stopped. I hope I’ll be running again soon. And since I’ve yet to try out my new racquetball racquet, and since my pal, Lori just got one for Christmas, we’re both anxious to get back to our new sport.

As for doing more reading, I read a good bunch of a new book before going to sleep last night. My blog pal, Kimberly McKay recently published her second book, Facing Redemption and kindly sent me a copy to read. So far, I’m loving it and plan to post a review here when I’ve finished reading it.

And I cooked! Well, technically I cooked. As we drove home from our joint chiropractor appointments this evening and spying the golden arches, Mark said, “Should we just swing through McDonald’s and grab something to eat?”

“Eh,” I said as he turned the corner.

“Do you want McDonald’s,” he asked?

“Not really,” I replied and so he drove on by.

At home, without a meal plan and it already being dinner time, I offered to make pancakes. He turned me down. I offered to make omelets. He turned me down. (All this turning me down and yet he offers up no suggestions as to what he would actually like to eat. Typical. And what is wrong with breakfast for supper? I love breakfast any time of the day!)

But since Mark was turning up his nose at all my ideas, I went to the downstairs freezer to browse the selection of foods within. I spied a container of White Chili that I’d made and frozen a while ago. I hollered to Mark, “Do you want chili?”

“I would eat chili,” he agreed.

“You’d better,” I warned him! And so I cooked heated up the chili, sprinkled on some shredded cheese and added some heat and eat dinner rolls smeared with butter on the side. And it was way better than McDonald’s, I’ll just say.

Two days down. Only 363 to go!

Birds of Calm

Several bird feeders used to adorn our back yard. As long as we remembered to keep them full, the birds would always come visit. Cardinals, Finches, Blue Jays, Blue Birds, even Woodpeckers came to dine. And so did the squirrels. Man, those squirrels could eat a lot! They drove Mark crazy. The location of the feeders made it too easy for the squirrels to get to them. They were constantly draining the bird seed. They even found way to get at the food in the “squirrel proof” feeder. I didn’t mind the squirrels as much as Mark. I’d always take my stale wheat bread out to the back yard for the squirrels. I learned that they much preferred wheat over white bread.

With fall settling in, we’re beginning to prepare for winter. Perennial plants have been trimmed back. The deck furniture has been stored in the shed. And Mark took a look at the bird feeders and remembered how much more challenging it is to keep them filled over the winter, especially the ones that sit high on a post just behind the privacy fence. If we get any amount of snowfall, there’s always an argument over who has to go out in the cold, lugging the bucket of bird seed back to the fence, and climb up to try to fill the feeders.

Mark decided to fix two problems at once. He took the feeders from the back post and moved them to the front of the house. Now there’s no fence or platform for the squirrels to traverse to reach the food. He put the feeders right in front of our family room window where they’ll be easy to fill when the snow falls. The birds don’t mind being so close to the windows. As long as the people on the other side don’t come too close, the birds will come visit. But the squirrels are less inclined to come steal bird seed now. And they can no longer get to the “squirrel proof” feeder.

I love how the feeders are situated now. I can sit in the house and enjoy the birds from my upstairs living room windows, or from my downstairs family room windows.

Sometimes watching the birds just slows down my thoughts and takes me away from all the chaos in my head. They make me feel calm and peaceful. Funny… there was a time in my life, when I gauged the success of a day by whether it brought fun and adventure with it. There was a time when I would never have even stopped to notice the birds.

 

Picture-Perfect October Weekend

It’s been a beautiful weekend; the kind of weekend that reminds me why fall is my favorite season. The sun came out, the air was warm and there’s still plenty of color in the trees.

Under the Maple tree out front

October clouds

Halloween is in the air. A handful of Halloween decorations have appeared around our house.

One of the witch hat luminaries that light the way up the front walk

On the front step, there’s a large, plastic, light-up jack-o-lantern. Jack has seen better days. His left eye has a slight puncture. But he stands proudly on the front step every year. He’s the same one Kacey picked out when she was three years old and out on an errand with Mark to the local do-it-yourself store. Jack was as tall as Kacey back then and when she pointed him out and told her daddy she wanted him, Mark’s inner softy made a rare appearance and they took him home. As long as Jack continues to light up, he’ll grace our front steps on Halloween.

Mark and I made a trip to Target today for some necessities and while we were there, we strolled through the Halloween section. Mark pointed out a pair of sound-activated googly eyes that made scary noises. I picked them up to try them out and soon noticed a little boy of about three years looking up at me. I held the box down at his level and asked, “Did you want to see these?”

He looked up at me and nodded as his mom watched, smiling from a few feet away. I showed him where to press the button to make the eyes light up and make noise but he made no move to take the box from me. He was content to let me hold it while he pressed the button.

Mark asked the little boy, “Are those scary?”

The little boy shrugged. Mark asked him, “Are you going to go trick-or-treating?”

The little boy ran over to his daddy who was standing nearby with a shopping cart. He reached into the cart and whipped out a pirate costume, holding it up for Mark.

“Is that your costume,” Mark asked?

“A pirate,” the little boy proudly announced! He then held up his Halloween themed sippy cup for Mark to see and said, “Look what I got!”

His parents and we were laughing by now at how quickly their son had befriended us. Mark explained, “Our kids are all grown up now. No more trick-or-treating for us.”

The mom said something about looking forward to that day. Mark told her, “You say that now, but you’ll miss it all too soon.”

We said goodbye and went on our way.

Back at home later on, I picked up a recipe card I’d set aside earlier this week - Secret Recipe Chocolate Chip Cookies. I’m not sure what it is about fall that makes me feel like Susie Homemaker, but I like it. Last weekend there was all that cooking. This weekend, it was baking. Yesterday morning I took one look at the overripe bananas and soon banana bread was in the works. Earlier this morning, I made a batch of granola. Then came the cookies.

Yum!

Wait… Let me give you a little perspective on just how big these cookies are. The recipe called for three cups of chocolate chips and said to use an ice cream scoop to scoop them. I could only fit six on a cookie sheet as opposed to the usual twelve. I’m not sure who I was thinking was going to eat all these, but I sure don’t want more than one … maybe two. Okay, maybe three.

Cookies, anyone?

I just heard the weather man say something like, “… more active weather patterns this week,” and “… possibly snow.” I’m glad I took notice of this weekend and enjoyed it.

Happy Girls!

The shelves that Mark made were well received by Kacey and friends!

Two thumbs up from Andi!

Big smiles from Hailey

Two more thumbs up from Kacey

 

Before we left to go back home, Kacey was telling Mark that her friend, Alex wanted a shelf for his desk and Mark was telling Hailey he would make one for her roommate too. I think if he ever quits his “day” job, he’ll know just how to keep himself busy and happy!

Wooden Shelves Made with Love

Last year when Kacey was a freshman at a different college, her dorm room had a desk with a shelf on it. The dorm itself was old. And as tends to be with dorms, her room was cramped and the closet was tiny. And if you know anything about girls, it’s that they have a lot of stuff! So that shelf on Kacey’s desk offered necessary and valuable storage space.

When she switched to a new college this year, one of the perks was a room in a newer building. It’s much bigger than last year’s room, with a better layout and a good amount of closet space. But there was one drawback. There was no shelf on the desk. Last year, Kacey kept her alarm clock on the top shelf of her desk. She would hear the alarm go off in the morning and lean down from her bunk, reaching toward that shelf to turn off the clock. As Kacey and her roommate, Andrea unpacked their things on move-in day this year, they contemplated what they could do about the lack of space on their desks. Maybe they could buy something, they thought.

When Mark heard that, he jumped to the rescue. There was no sense in trying to find a shelf to fit the desks. He would make them, he said. He loves this kind of thing. He lives for this kind of project. All he needed were some good measurements and he would be all set to build the perfect shelves. No one had a tape measure though. I tried to get a good measurement by flipping a six-inch protractor over and over from one end of Kacey’s desk to the next, but Mark didn’t trust my measurements. (Good thing, too.)

Eventually, Kacey got a tape measure, and with the help of her Eagle Scout pal, Alex, reported the exact measurements to Mark. Mark bought some wood and I came home from work one afternoon to find him in the garage with three shelves for three desks, one for Kacey, one for Andrea, and one for their friend Haley too.

Each one is a little different the others. Mark says he did that on purpose.

“How are you going to decide who gets which one,” I asked?

“Kacey gets to pick the one she wants,” he said, “and then the other two can choose from the remaining two.”

After I’m done at work on Tuesday, we’re going to hop in the truck and make the hour and a half drive to Kacey’s school. I’ll get to see my girl for a little while and she and the girls will get to have their new desk shelves.

Mark’s not so much like me. He doesn’t always show his love with words and outward displays of affection. He has his own way, like putting his time, energy and love into some custom-made desk shelves. I’m impressed with his ability to just whip something like this together. He’s pretty talented this way. I am very proud. And Kacey and the girls are going to love these!

Laying on Beds

Mark and I ran some errands after work today. First it was off to a local bowling alley. Not one of my two regular bowling alleys, but the new one where our Saturday league will be moving next season. I’m in charge of Fun Night for the Saturday league again and it’s this weekend. And it will be the most fun Fun Night ever! I made a game where we’ll bowl 9-Pin No Tap for three games. Strikes are worth one point and spares are worth two. As soon as a bowler accumulates fifteen points, they get to come claim a prize envelope. Most bowlers will win five dollars, but a few others will win more.

I wanted to make Fun Night even more fun, so we went to the new bowling alley tonight and talked to the manager. I said, “Hey, our league is coming to your bowling alley next year and I wondered if you’d donate a few free food coupons or something for me to use as prizes for our Fun Night this weekend.”

The manager said, “Sure, I’ll give you some freebies.” And he donated – for every bowler in our league – a pass good for three free games of bowling for up to four players. And then to top it off, he donated what equates to a bowling party. It was a certificate for three free games of bowling for twelve people, plus free shoe rental.

I was so excited! These are great prizes. I thanked the manager profusely for his generosity! Remind me to send him a thank-you card.

After the bowling business was taken care of, we went to check out new mattresses. We need a new mattress. Ours is eighty bajillion years old, or maybe not quite. But it’s old. I’m a side sleeper and I sleep on my left shoulder. I can’t help it. Even if I fall asleep in a different position, I eventually end up on my left side. And when I wake up, my shoulder hurts. And Mark said he was looking into buying a sprinkler system for the yard, and I said, “Well if you get a sprinkler system, then I want a new mattress.” So being the good husband that he is, he took me to look at mattresses because he figured it was a small price to pay for a sprinkler system.

We went to the local furniture store where they sell indoor furniture and outdoor furniture and mattresses. We wandered our way into the mattress section and after perusing mattresses aimlessly for a few minutes, a nice sales-woman asked if she could help us. Mark said, “Can you show us where those… ummm… something-pedic mattresses are?”

And she willingly showed us the way to the something-pedic mattresses with the memory foam that contains cooling gel so you won’t get too hot while sleeping. I wasn’t sure how I felt about a memory foam mattress. I have a memory foam pillow. I like it alright. I use it when my neck hurts and then I go back to my pile of regular pillows until my neck hurts again. But laying my whole body on memory foam? It just doesn’t seem right. Mattresses are supposed to be bouncy, aren’t they?

Mark was fascinated by the memory foam. He played with the sample pieces that the store puts out so you can see what’s really inside the mattress. The sales woman was telling us how much she loved her something-pedic mattress. She said to go ahead and lay on some of the mattresses.

Mark sat on a bed and laid back, letting his feet dangle on the floor. “Hey, this feels pretty good,” he said. “Try it.”

I took my shoes off and climbed fully onto the mattress. If I was going to test it out, I wasn’t going to pussy-foot around. I got on my left side and curled my legs up a little. I liked it. I really liked it.

“Wake me up in an hour,” I said to Mark. He looked embarrassed and said, “I can’t take you anywhere.”

While the sales woman continued to talk about all of the benefits of the something-pedic mattresses, I continued trying out beds of varying firmness. I found one I really liked and called Mark over to try it out. The sales woman said it was the best-selling mattress of the brand we were considering.

We continued to lay on the bed while the sales woman talked. Mark asked if the mattress would keep him from tossing and turning so much. She promised it would. I asked if it would keep Mark on his own side of the bed. I pushed him toward the other side as I asked it. She said she couldn’t guarantee it. Mark said I was embarrassing him. The sales woman said, “Oh, that’s not embarrassing. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen in this line of work. I’ve seen it all.”

We agreed that details were not necessary.

Mark asked if the mattress would work with our existing frame. The sales woman said it would. I said, “Wait a minute. I wanted to get a bigger bed this time. I was thinking king size.”

Mark said, “We don’t need a king size bed. There’s plenty of room for two in a queen. Make Lucy go sleep somewhere else if you don’t have enough room.”

“Why don’t you go sleep somewhere else,” I suggested.

We were quickly getting sold on this bed. Mark finally thought to ask how long they were on sale. Because we had gone there due to the mattress sale.

“Oh these aren’t on sale,” the sales woman said. “The ones out front are on sale, but not these.”

“Well I guess we don’t have to make a rush decision if they’re not on sale right now,” Mark said.

“These never go on sale,” the sales woman said.

“Oh,” we said. That was interesting.

“How much is this one,” I asked? I was already having visions of blissfully restful nights in that bed.

“It’s $@,*&%,” she said.

“Yikes,” I said. It was a lot of money for a bed. But of course, we were now so sold on the bed that we weren’t quite ready to walk away from it.

“Just out of curiosity,” Mark said, “How much is the top of the line bed in the competing brand?”

“$13,000.”

Thirteen. Thousand. Dollars. For a bed. I don’t know. All I can think is you’d have to have some serious sleep issues to be willing to spend $13,000 on a bed. And you know I had to lay on it after hearing that. It felt good. But thirteen thousand dollars good? I don’t know. I made Mark go lay on it. He did the dangly legs thing again while he laid on his back. I said, “It’s a thirteen thousand dollar bed! Go for the gusto! Get your whole body up there!”

But he wouldn’t do it. He’s not adventurous like me.

Of course, the one we liked didn’t seem quite so outrageously priced now. We said we’d go home and think about it. We took the sales woman’s card because we want to work with her when  if we go back to purchase the bed. She was knowledgeable and she played along with our antics and besides, we just liked her.

As we walked out, Mark was saying how he would really love to have that bed.

“But it’s a lot of money.”

“And you know we have to have new bedding if we get a new bed,” I said. “I’ll start looking.” (See how I did that? I’m getting a new mattress.)

Underwear? Under there?

This is what I love about girlfriends: You can ask them things that in polite conversation would probably cause raised eyebrows.For instance, in polite conversation, you can’t just ask someone if they’re in the habit of wearing underwear or not. But in girlfriend-conversation, you can ask, and they’ll answer honestly and not even think you’re strange for asking.

I went to the gym this morning for Step Aerobics and Body Works classes, as has become my Saturday morning routine. Upon entering the room, I spied my friend, Lori. We chatted a bit, talking about weekend plans. She’s having people over tonight. This being my loner weekend when the husband works all night and sleeps all day, my plans are a bit more low-key. I’m going to start watching the DVDs Lori loaned me – Mad Men Season 1 – so I can participate in the Mad Men conversations that happen during lunch break. Because clearly I do not watch enough t.v. to keep up with the lunchtime conversations.

Soon enough, the class began. We stepped and kicked and mamboed for an hour.  (Yes, we did the mambo! That was fun!) And we sweated our butts off.

After Step Aerobics, there was a fifteen minute break before Body Works began. Lori and I grabbed some hand weights and waited for the class to fill up. While we waited, Lori looked around at the others in the room and remarked that we were all wearing Easter colors. For some reason that reminded me of a gym-wardrobe question that had been plaguing me.

I asked Lori, “See everyone wearing the yoga style pants and capris like mine?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you supposed to wear underwear under those?”

For the record, this is NOT my butt.

Lori didn’t bat an eye. She looked at me and said, “I wear underwear when I have a looser style on. But when I wear those kind, I don’t. I think a lot of people go without when they wear yoga pants. But I think it’s a matter of personal preference. Why?”

“Well, I was noticing at home that if someone were to look at my butt, they could probably see the outline of my bikinis underneath. When I look at my butt in the mirror, I can see the outline.”

Not that I was studying my own butt. Okay, so maybe I was. I’ve been working hard. I might have wanted to see if it was getting toned. This is when the underwear line dilemma was discovered. I’ve also been known to do that body-builder pose in front of the mirror to see if all this work has had any sculpting effects on my arms and shoulders. It has, but it’s only really noticeable so far if I flex. Oh well.

Lori shrugged, signalling that I was worrying needlessly about underwear.

“You’re probably right, I said. “Not that anyone is probably looking at my butt while we’re busy working out, anyway,” I  was trying to make myself feel better. It didn’t work because clearly I was checking out other ladies’ butts to see if I could see the outline of their undies. And believe me, in many cases, I could not find one!

“Well, I don’t look at your butt,” Lori laughed, swatting me playfully on the arm! “But I’m gonna now!”

And then Body Works began and I was almost too busy lunging and lifting my weights to worry about whether or not the outline of my underwear was visible to others. So there’s one worry I can check off the list of many. And I can relax now that I know that going commando is an acceptable practice at the gym.

Food is Love

Somewhere in my upbringing, I must have picked up on the belief that food equals love.

This weekend was one to have all of my kids at home, a make-up for two weekends ago when a winter storm kept Brad and Heather away. I took the day off on Friday so that I might prepare for this special weekend. There were things that needed doing, things like cleaning house and picking up my daughter from school. But top priority on my to-do list was grocery shopping. I simply felt that I couldn’t adequately welcome my kids back home without a well-stocked refrigerator and cupboards. I also wanted to have all of the ingredients to make the foods my kids were craving and had requested that I make for them sometime over the weekend.

My day began early on Friday. After a visit to the gym, I showered and dressed and then proceeded to make a grocery list and clip coupons. At the grocery store, I filled a cart to the brim with all the things on my list and then some. I got it all home and put away just in time to go pick up Kacey from school.

It was a beautiful, sunny day on Friday and the drive to and from Kacey’s school was pleasant. I enjoyed having one-on-one mom and daughter time in the car on the way home. And once we were back home, it wasn’t long before Connor arrived and the two of them hung out with me for a while. Kacey helped me out by making the barbecue sauce for the ribs Brad had asked me to make. When the sauce was done, I covered the ribs and wrapped them in foil. They went in the fridge to marinate overnight. Before long, Kacey’s friends, home on spring break, were beckoning her and Connor to come hang out. I agreed that Kacey could go, only because I still wanted to clean house and it would be several hours before Brad and Heather arrived anyway.

It was a quiet afternoon and early evening, but as I did my cleaning and prepared dinner, I thought how the quiet wouldn’t last. Soon Mark would come home from work. Soon kids and dogs would descend upon the tranquility and stir things up good. And they did. We had a late dinner on Friday once all had arrived. The kitchen was a mess as I had been busy preparing baked fish, sauteed zucchini, tossed salad and biscuits for a full table full of people instead of the usual two or three of us. Everyone gathered round the table to eat together and catch up with one another. All of those surfaces I’d spent the day cleaning and decluttering were soon cluttered again with car keys and phones, water bottles and various belongings. And I didn’t even mind. My kids were home. Everyone helped clean up afterwards and afterwards everyone found a place to lounge and wind down for the evening.

Saturday morning came early. Lucy was too excited, wanting to play with her pal Dacotah to bother sleeping in. I let the dogs out in the back yard and prepared to watch the chasing games begin. But they never did. Dacotah was ready to run and play, but she couldn’t get Lucy to engage. Dacotah would try to wrestle with Lucy, and Lucy would just roll over on her back. She would roll around on the ground a bit, but she wouldn’t run.

When the dogs were ready to come back in the house, I noticed that Lucy wasn’t racing up the deck steps, full speed ahead like she normally does. She took the stairs slowly, almost gingerly. She’d been doing this off and on for a few days but I’d thought maybe she’d just pulled a muscle racing around the yard like she always does. Now I was getting worried. If she wasn’t keeping pace with Dacotah, something must be wrong.

Neither Mark nor Brad thought anything serious was wrong and both suggested I wait until Monday to go to the vet, but I was worried. Mark must have been more worried than he let on too. While Heather and I went to a class at the gym, Mark called the vet. They had limited Saturday hours, but had an opening at 11:20 and could see Lucy.

I showered after the gym, then went with Mark and Lucy to the vet. We explained why we thought something was wrong. She’d gone from being fast and fearless to slow and careful. We explained the biggest red flag being the fact that she wouldn’t play with our son’s dog. Mark explained how Lucy has a habit of sleeping, curled up so tight in a ball that she must be stiff and sore when she awakens. He described her ability to lay flat on her belly with her front legs straight out in front of her, and her hind legs stretched out straight back. Maybe these were reasons for whatever was ailing her.

“I’ve never seen a dog do that before,” Mark said.

The doctor checked out Lucy’s feet and toes. He studied and felt her legs and knees. She never once whined or yelped. Finally he said, “I don’t believe there’s anything wrong in her feet or legs. Her knees are fine.” He hesitated then before saying, “I think it’s her hip.”

I felt a mild panic when he said that. I heard the words Hip Displasia in my head. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but had heard enough about it to know it wasn’t good. I assured myself, though that I was overreacting and doing so too soon. And then the vet said those words. He said, “Not all dogs who can stretch out as you’ve described have Hip Displasia, but most dogs who have Hip Displasia are able to stretch out that way.

“I’m going to take Lucy for an x-ray,” the vet said.

While my dog willing followed him out of the room, I googled Hip Displasia on my iPhone and learned that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Lucy had it and that there were several forms of treatment including surgery. Still, I was keeping my fingers crossed that it wasn’t that.

Unfortunately, the finger crossing didn’t do much good. The vet and Lucy came back and it was confirmed that she has Hip Displasia. This condition, according to Wikipedia, is an abnormal formation of the hip socket that, in its more severe form, can eventually cause crippling lameness and painful arthritis of the joints.

I could feel tears beginning to sting my eyes. I know there are some who might say she’s just a dog. But she’s not just a dog to me. She’s the one who is always there for me. When I come home, she greets me as if I’m the greatest person in the world. She snuggles me when I need snuggling and she keeps me from feeling alone and lonely during those times when none of my people are around. She makes me laugh and she loves me. I love her. It makes me sad to think of her in such pain. And she was in obvious pain.

So, we were given options for treatment. Some of them are expensive. We have some thinking to do, but I’m thinking it won’t be a tough decision. We’ll figure out a way to make our puppy-girl feel better. The vet gave her some anti-inflammatory medication and said she should be feeling better in a day. She’ll need to take the meds every day, at least until we decide what course of treatment to go with.

When we came home we told the kids what was wrong. Of course they wanted to know what Lucy’s options were. As we talked about it, Mark made a comment that made me think he’d prefer to take the least expensive route, which means Lucy will eventually suffer more than she is now. With that thought in mind, tears threatened to come again. I escaped to the lower level of the house before anyone could notice. But I didn’t go unnoticed. Brad came downstairs behind me and wrapped me in a hug, saying, “Don’t cry, Mom. She’ll be okay. It’s not like you’re losing her.”

“I know,” I said. “But I’m worried that Dad doesn’t want to spend the money to help her. I can tell she’s in pain and I feel so bad. Everywhere she goes in this house, even to get to the yard, she has to travel up and down steps.”

“You guys will do what she needs,” Brad said. “I know you will.”

I didn’t know, but I felt a little better.

Brad said the ribs I’d made for him for lunch were delicious. I didn’t notice. I felt like the vet’s news had put a damper on the day.

This morning, Mark said to me, “So we need to figure out the best way to pay for Lucy’s surgery, if that’s what we decide to do.”

I felt way better then!

Brad and Heather were the earliest risers this morning. While they pampered the dogs in the living room, I prepared the biggest breakfast possible. I made bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns. There was cinnamon toast too. We sat at the table enjoying the kind of breakfast I rarely allow myself to enjoy. Jake and Kacey slept through it all. I knew they’d rather sleep than eat.

Besides, by the time Kacey finally greeted the day, I was already on my way to making the Mexican Chicken Corn Chowder she had requested. It was done cooking just in time for her to have some for lunch.

Too soon, it was time for everyone to go back to school again. That’s always the hardest part of a visit. But Dacotah going home meant Lucy would settle down for some much-needed rest. And Kacey returned to school, only for a week. Spring break is next week, so she’ll be home again soon.

I’d better make sure I get that refrigerator stocked up again!

Need your DVD player hooked up? Don’t call me.

So my mom called me this evening, not long after I’d come home from work.

“Hi honey! What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing … ,” I replied. “Why?”

She answered my question with a question. “Who in your house hooks up DVD players and things like that?”

“Usually me, I guess.” I had a feeling I knew what was coming. “Why? What’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could come over here and help us hook up our DVD player.”

My parents haven’t used their DVD player in years. I’m not kidding. It’s been years. The DVD player’s only purpose is to  serve as a base for the Direct TV receiver. There’s been a stack of DVD movies, still wrapped in cellophane, sitting on the shelf of the t.v. stand for about six years. Now my parents decide they want to watch one.

So after dinner, I went over to check things out. Now, I don’t have Direct TV. I have cable t.v. But I assumed things would operate pretty similarly as far as how all of the devices operate together. As it turns out, when I turned on the DVD player, there was a picture, so something was connected. There was just no sound. The DVD player was connected to the Direct TV receiver and apparently this was enough to get a picture but not sound.

So I got behind the big television and knelt down on the floor, in the dust that lives behind big televisions. I found the cord I was looking for, the one with the red and white plugs on each end. I connected one set to the audio out ports on the DVD player and the other to one of the six jillion sets of audio in ports on the television.

And? No sound.

I messed with those plugs and tried every single one of those six jillion audio in ports. And nothing. No sound. I rearranged those plugs in every possible combination. I read portions of the Direct TV manual. I searched through the t.v. menus. Nothing.

My dad offered to call Direct TV and ask the advice of a customer service rep. I said, “Not yet.”

And then when I said, “Okay, Dad. Let’s call Direct TV,” he said, “Wellll…”

So I crawled out from behind the t.v. and I crawled back behind the t.v. and I shined a flashlight on all of the possible connections and decided I was going to give up. Me and my dusty black pants came out from behind the big t.v., defeated. And dusty.

And as much as I hated to admit defeat, I did. I called Mark and said, “Help!”

Mark came over promptly and huffed his chest and said in his most manly-man-to-the-rescue voice, “Let me take a look.”

He “hmmmd” and “mmmd” and asked me a question or two and suddenly? There was sound.

“What did you do,” I demanded?

“I plugged the red and white plugs into this audio in port right here,” he said, pointing to one of the very ports I had most certainly tried a hundred thousand times. And he had a very pleased-with-himself grin on his face too.

Sighing, I looked at my mom and said, “Alright. Now that it’s working, which of these movies did you want to watch?”

“Oh, none of them. Not tonight. We just thought we should make sure the DVD player works so that when we do want to watch one, we can.”

“Oh,” I said, biting my tongue. “Alrighty then. I guess we’ll go home then.” And Mark and I walked out the door to my car as I was still biting my tongue. I looked at him as I opened my car door and he burst out laughing.

Yep. That’s my parents. And I love ‘em anyway!