Hello, and Happy Post Turkey/Black Friday to all of you. I am back from the UP with mixed emotions as always--glad to be home in my own house but the four days went way too fast. The ride there was MISERABLE--we left Niles at 1:18 p.m. and were still in northwest Chicago at 7:00 p.m. Yes, I was driving and I thought I was going to go INSANE from all the stop, start, stop start, etc. Once Jim started driving at 8:15 p.m., the rest of the trip flew by, with us finally arriving at 12:45 a.m.. Conversely, the ride home took 7.5 hours, so a whole 4 hours shorter than the way up. We left at 3 AM and have decided that is the only time to go. Thanks to my buddy Ken at work for lending us the IPASS--woohoo--that was HUGE in saving time, at least on the way home.
But what a fun time we had. I did nothing that I planned to do. We ate lots of course--I drew the green bean casserole (I think Ginger rigged it) but when I got home from the store it was already done, as my Nimmy took care of it. Ginger was trying to save herself some work by getting us all to help out but what she did to help us was to write the recipe of every dish on an index card and put all the ingredients, including any pot, dish or pan needed, in a grocery bag so our mini-meal was all right there. She is such a crazy MIL.
I wish I could say I never thought of cancer once, but I did. It was rather morbid, but everytime I would mention something about next year or next time--like "Next year we need to remember to bring more socks" or "next year, we need to do the cookie walk in Boulder Junction" I would say those things outloud but then in my head end with "If I am still alive."
NOW HOW STUPID IS THAT? What is really stupid is I don't really think I will be dead next year but it kept creeping in my head. You know what, it's that damned little cancer devil that used to hang out when I was first diagnosed! I need to flick that sucker off. It was almost comical really, and I think I started to say it to myself just to be stupid. Not a really funny thing to laugh at but it kept happening. What a moron I can be.
One thing that STILL is making me giggle is Pooh, Jim's youngest brother's story about a recent earache. As we were all sitting around one morning in our comfy clothes, drinking coffee and tea, we were talking about earaches (most of our entertainment was watching Talon, my almost two year old nephew, run around the room in circles). So, all the parents are telling their children's ear ache stories when Pooh, out of no where says, "yeh, my worst earache was when I had that Poptart in my ear."
He gets this sheepish look on his face and tells of a morning when he was still in bed and Zoe, his daughter, crawled into bed with him with a Poptart. He says he remembers it vividly--rolling over, and seeing, in slow motion, this small piece of Poptart break away from the larger piece, and tumble directly into his ear. He wasn't positive that it went in but a bit later the pain started so off he goes to Dr. Pam (because Pam works in the medical field we go to her for all medical needs). Pam, having all the correct tools, finds one of those bulb syringes that all new moms get to suck snot out of their baby's nose, and goes to town, armed with the syringe and some hydrogen pyroxide. Sure enough, out comes some nasty stuff and wallah, Pooh's earache is no more.
Pooh has to be one of the funniest guys I know. We always laugh at his Pooh'isms--he really is an intelligent guy but seems to get things mixed up when it comes to speaking. He calls deodorant "deodormint" (the smell) and windshield wipers "winsheildshipers." There are a million Pooh'ism's out there--another funny one is when he mixes his cliches-like when he is affirming something that he feels strongly about and he says "does the Pope shit in the woods?" when what he really meant to say was either "Is the Pope Catholic" or "Does a bear shit in the woods?" And when he disagrees with something it is always "that dog don't hunt." For a long time his life goal was to live in a corn field. I am happy to say he is a very successful lineman for AEP and makes good good money keeping our electricity on. I love that kid. Pooh does have a real name by the way--his name is David but no one has ever called him that. Even now that he's like 35 years old!
I must admit I did NOT make cookies with Josh, but Ginger and all the kids made peanut butter cookies from scratch so Josh said that was close enough. He said I could make it up to him tonight by making my first of many batches of Christmas cookies. I will do that because they are simple, simple, simple. (do not ask for any recipe as you know there isn't one)
I have more to report--and did take some photos that I will share.
I hope everyone loved their holiday weekend as much as I.