We've been without children for just over one week. So far, we have done the following adult-only activities:
1. Dinner at Mexico Lindo. I did not have a pleasant dining experience there. We've heard an equal amount of rave reviews and pans, so we're thinking there must be two chefs and we got the bad one.
2. Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull. Excellent film! If you like Indiana Jones and/or Harrison Ford, go and see it. Really.
3. Dinner at the Boston Grille, a sports bar/video game/pool hall. The Grille was nice, the games area, not so much. I think we would have had more fun there if 90% of the video games weren't BROKEN. I did get a couple of little plastic people who will stick to the wall if thrown there. Woot!
4. Massachusetts Sheep and Woolcraft Festival. I had lots of fun and bought more yarn, which always puts me in a good mood. We hung out for the rest of the day in Northampton, and Jim had fun, too. We had some difficulty finding a place to eat on the way home (long story...) and ended up at Cracker Barrel. Both of us ordered breakfast for dinner and both of us ate too much.
We had small group of friends over for a barbecue on Memorial Day, which was a lot of fun. There were ribs, delicious hamburgers seasoned with herbs and spices, grilled veggies, corn, watermelon and pie. We all had cocktails made with fresh fruit and mint (mine was a Mojito). The weather was just perfect, too.
Jim worked today but will be taking the rest of the week off so we can hang out, work on some stuff around the house and really enjoy the last half of our vacation without kids.
Meanwhile, the kids are having a great time at my parents' house. From what I can gather, they are eating candy and ice cream, watching awful television like "Barney" and generally having their every whim catered to. Sounds like fun! We call them twice a day. Typical conversation with Lily:
Me: Hi, Lily!
Lily: Hi, Mommy! Can I talk to Papa?
Me: (Version 1): He's at work. (Version 2): Okay.
Lily: Bye, Mommy!
Typical conversation with Jack:
Me: Hi, Jackie!
Jack: Hi, Mommy. (Version 1): I wanna talk a Papa! (Version 2): Grammy gave new shoes. Grandaddy go for walking. (Version 3): Mine plane fell inna dish washer!
Me: Okay!
Jack: Bye, Mommy!
We really do miss them, even if it is fun to have so much adult-only time. The house is clean and very quiet.
Showing posts with label Wendy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wendy. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wii Fit is Here!
I asked Jim to get me a Wii for my birthday last year. At the time, they were difficult to find due to a shortage(they may still be difficult to find, but since I'm not currently looking for one, I don't know). ANYWAY, after some trouble, Jim managed to scare one up on Craig's List.
The primary reason I wanted the Wii is because I was told they were going to bring out an exercise program that worked with it. I later discovered that the Wii Fit program was not coming out until May 2008.
It's here! It comes with a little step platform that you can stand on. It weighs you and calculates your BMI based on your height and weight. It takes you through 4 types of workouts: Yoga, Strength, Balance, and Aerobic. I was skeptical at first, but it's really fun. The Yoga program is great because the platform tracks your center of balance and you work to align your body properly by keeping a dot on the screen within a certain area. It's challenging and you have the satisfaction of knowing you are holding the pose correctly.
I also like the step aerobics. You follow the footsteps as you step and kick on the platform. I made it to the advanced program today. I must admit, I really chuckled at the warning drawings at the beginning showing someone stepping off of the edge of the platform and falling. About halfway through the program, I almost fell! You really get going at one point, and I wasn't careful about my footing.
The strength and yoga workouts provide you with a trainer (you get to select male or female). The trainer says encouraging things, like "Great Job!" I really enjoy it when I totally fail to stand on one foot and have to step down and the trainer still says "Great Job!" Unfortunately, the trainer's mouth doesn't really move, so he's a little creepy when he's talking. You can make him shut up by pressing the A button to move him along. He can be a little wordy at times and he is very repetitive. I've been told about 100 times that doing yoga will build my core strength. Unless there will be a test later, I would rather get right to the workout.
You are rated on how well you perform. I'm a yoga master at most of the poses (having taken yoga and pilates for quite a while), but a workout novice at most of the strength activities.
All of your progress is tracked on the program. You can see how your BMI and weight has changed, set goals for yourself and keep track of how much time you spend working out. I've been using the program every day since I got it, so we'll see how long it keeps me entertained. So far, it's pretty fun!
The primary reason I wanted the Wii is because I was told they were going to bring out an exercise program that worked with it. I later discovered that the Wii Fit program was not coming out until May 2008.
It's here! It comes with a little step platform that you can stand on. It weighs you and calculates your BMI based on your height and weight. It takes you through 4 types of workouts: Yoga, Strength, Balance, and Aerobic. I was skeptical at first, but it's really fun. The Yoga program is great because the platform tracks your center of balance and you work to align your body properly by keeping a dot on the screen within a certain area. It's challenging and you have the satisfaction of knowing you are holding the pose correctly.
I also like the step aerobics. You follow the footsteps as you step and kick on the platform. I made it to the advanced program today. I must admit, I really chuckled at the warning drawings at the beginning showing someone stepping off of the edge of the platform and falling. About halfway through the program, I almost fell! You really get going at one point, and I wasn't careful about my footing.
The strength and yoga workouts provide you with a trainer (you get to select male or female). The trainer says encouraging things, like "Great Job!" I really enjoy it when I totally fail to stand on one foot and have to step down and the trainer still says "Great Job!" Unfortunately, the trainer's mouth doesn't really move, so he's a little creepy when he's talking. You can make him shut up by pressing the A button to move him along. He can be a little wordy at times and he is very repetitive. I've been told about 100 times that doing yoga will build my core strength. Unless there will be a test later, I would rather get right to the workout.
You are rated on how well you perform. I'm a yoga master at most of the poses (having taken yoga and pilates for quite a while), but a workout novice at most of the strength activities.
All of your progress is tracked on the program. You can see how your BMI and weight has changed, set goals for yourself and keep track of how much time you spend working out. I've been using the program every day since I got it, so we'll see how long it keeps me entertained. So far, it's pretty fun!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
My Personal Everest
When I first joined Ravelry back in February, I spent a lot of time looking at patterns and projects that other people were working on. In doing so, I noticed a few trends. There are sock people, Clapotis people, Entrelac people, color work people, and lace people. There are probably a few more people that I can't think of right now, but you get my drift. Most knitters seem attracted to one specific type of knitting over others. They might dip their toes in a different style of project every now and then, but they always return to their favorite.
My "thing" is color work. I like doing stranded knitting. I'm not sure why it appeals to me, but it's a combination of watching the pattern build as I go along and using multiple colors. It interests me and I love the end product. Once I joined Ravelry, however, I suddenly had access to all sorts of different projects that I'd never really thought about before. It turns out that felting runs a close second to color work in terms of enjoyment for me. There's something really satisfying about knitting a large, grossly misshapen object and then watching it magically shrink into its proper shape at the end. Socks are fun because they're highly portable and a quick knit. I've decided I'm going to keep at least one sock on the needles at all times for traveling purposes.
Ravelry also exposed me to techniques that I've never thought about. I taught myself how to knit in the Continental style, learned several different cast ons and increases/decreases and finally get the importance of gauge. Go, me.
Everything has been positive for me except one: lace knitting. It's my personal Everest. I'm a reasonably intelligent woman, I've been knitting for more than 35 years and I can do almost anything I try...except lace. I really suck at lace. It started with the Branching Out scarf. It's so pretty, and Knitty assured me it was an easy lace pattern. Apparently, the Knitty editors have never met someone like me, because that scarf was the bane of my existence for two months. I finally finished it, but I never once made it through a single pattern repeat without have to rip it back. There was also the Reid Sweater. I think I had to frog and cast on that project at least three times, and still haven't gone beyond the first repeat. That project is in the naughty closet so it can learn how to behave.
Despite those set backs, I somehow thought I could knit a lace pattern in lace weight yarn. For those of you not in the know, lace weight yarn is like embroidery floss, only, you know, made out of wool or alpaca or something. Do you see the contradiction here? I can't knit a simple lace pattern from normal sized wool on a size US 8 needle, but I confidently believe I can easily knit a whole stole using thread and toothpick sized needles.
Needless to say, I have not been successful. I picked a lovely stole pattern called Print o'the Wave. I bought gorgeous alpaca lace weight yarn and used my new provisional cast on skills to cast it on. I never made it through a repeat. You know what happens when you knit with lace weight yarn? It looks kind of like a snarly mass. A more talented knitter might be able to frog back a row or two, but if I do it, I can't tell where to pick up the stitches. Also, my bamboo circulars? WAY too dull for lace weight. Of course, I cast on and frogged at least twice before I fully comprehended these facts.
I went on Ravelry. I carefully read through various tips for lace knitting. Did you look at the stole I'm knitting? The end product is so beautiful, it kept me working on the project. I learned that using Post-it notes on the chart will keep you on track. I read that Addi lace circulars are key to easy knitting. I also learned that threading a "life-line" through a row you know is correct will prevent you from having to frog all the way to the beginning due to the impossibility of seeing the stitches. Frog down to the thread and pick up the stitches! Whee!
I cast on again, worked the first row and threaded in the life line. This way, there is no chance I'll have to redo the somewhat cumbersome provisional cast on again. Go, me. I knit a few rows, counted every stitch across the purl rows and made it to Row 7 of the chart. I finally got my lace Addis, but I was so exhausted from all the frogging and painstaking counting that I just wasn't up to working on the project any more. Everything went into the project bag and I put it aside for two months.
I knit a pair of socks with a lace pattern with relatively few problems. Hey, sock weight yarn isn't that much thicker than lace weight yarn, so maybe I'm getting better! I worked out my own lace pattern for a pair of socks and am knitting merrily along on those. I think I'm ready for the stole again.
Yesterday I made a bunch of pretty little stitch markers. I came up with a plan to mark the end of each pattern repeat across the row so that I would know where each section starts in the event that something went wrong and I needed to count stitches. I pulled out the stole at 5 pm and worked a row to put it on the Addis. The knitting went so much more smoothly! I zoomed through rows 8-12, and on Row 13...disaster. Something was terribly wrong. Counting back did not reveal the mistake, so I knew I had to frog. Sadly, I didn't think to move up the life-line at any point, so I had to frog back to the VERY FIRST ROW.
I started up again. I thought to myself, this is actually a good thing because now I'm knitting on the really good needles and I can make sure my tension is more even. It will actually make the finished project look better.
I knit three rows and frogged back to the first row. I knit five rows and frogged back to the first row. I knit 6 rows and thought "Ha ha! I'm going to move the life line so that I can actually make progress!" Smart move, no? I also thought "I'm going to leave in the original life line just in case!" Good plan.
Here's where everything went wrong. Instead of spending the 1 minute it would take to look through my bag for more thread, I just pulled the bottom life line out a bit and cut it in half. There was plenty of extra thread hanging out both sides. I put in the second life line and knit up to row 11. Something went wrong. No problem, life line!
I ripped back to the second life line and noticed that it had pulled through the last 20 stitches or so. Good thing I have the first life line as a back up. Except that my first life line has also pulled through about a quarter of the stitches. It dawned on me that I was going to have to rip back the entire stole again and do another provisional cast on. I frogged the stole, rewound the yarn and put the whole thing back into the project bag.
When Jim came home from his guys' night out, I said "Do you want to see all the work I did on my stole between 5pm and 11pm?" I pulled out the empty lace needles. Jim said "Not going to well, huh?"
My "thing" is color work. I like doing stranded knitting. I'm not sure why it appeals to me, but it's a combination of watching the pattern build as I go along and using multiple colors. It interests me and I love the end product. Once I joined Ravelry, however, I suddenly had access to all sorts of different projects that I'd never really thought about before. It turns out that felting runs a close second to color work in terms of enjoyment for me. There's something really satisfying about knitting a large, grossly misshapen object and then watching it magically shrink into its proper shape at the end. Socks are fun because they're highly portable and a quick knit. I've decided I'm going to keep at least one sock on the needles at all times for traveling purposes.
Ravelry also exposed me to techniques that I've never thought about. I taught myself how to knit in the Continental style, learned several different cast ons and increases/decreases and finally get the importance of gauge. Go, me.
Everything has been positive for me except one: lace knitting. It's my personal Everest. I'm a reasonably intelligent woman, I've been knitting for more than 35 years and I can do almost anything I try...except lace. I really suck at lace. It started with the Branching Out scarf. It's so pretty, and Knitty assured me it was an easy lace pattern. Apparently, the Knitty editors have never met someone like me, because that scarf was the bane of my existence for two months. I finally finished it, but I never once made it through a single pattern repeat without have to rip it back. There was also the Reid Sweater. I think I had to frog and cast on that project at least three times, and still haven't gone beyond the first repeat. That project is in the naughty closet so it can learn how to behave.
Despite those set backs, I somehow thought I could knit a lace pattern in lace weight yarn. For those of you not in the know, lace weight yarn is like embroidery floss, only, you know, made out of wool or alpaca or something. Do you see the contradiction here? I can't knit a simple lace pattern from normal sized wool on a size US 8 needle, but I confidently believe I can easily knit a whole stole using thread and toothpick sized needles.
Needless to say, I have not been successful. I picked a lovely stole pattern called Print o'the Wave. I bought gorgeous alpaca lace weight yarn and used my new provisional cast on skills to cast it on. I never made it through a repeat. You know what happens when you knit with lace weight yarn? It looks kind of like a snarly mass. A more talented knitter might be able to frog back a row or two, but if I do it, I can't tell where to pick up the stitches. Also, my bamboo circulars? WAY too dull for lace weight. Of course, I cast on and frogged at least twice before I fully comprehended these facts.
I went on Ravelry. I carefully read through various tips for lace knitting. Did you look at the stole I'm knitting? The end product is so beautiful, it kept me working on the project. I learned that using Post-it notes on the chart will keep you on track. I read that Addi lace circulars are key to easy knitting. I also learned that threading a "life-line" through a row you know is correct will prevent you from having to frog all the way to the beginning due to the impossibility of seeing the stitches. Frog down to the thread and pick up the stitches! Whee!
I cast on again, worked the first row and threaded in the life line. This way, there is no chance I'll have to redo the somewhat cumbersome provisional cast on again. Go, me. I knit a few rows, counted every stitch across the purl rows and made it to Row 7 of the chart. I finally got my lace Addis, but I was so exhausted from all the frogging and painstaking counting that I just wasn't up to working on the project any more. Everything went into the project bag and I put it aside for two months.
I knit a pair of socks with a lace pattern with relatively few problems. Hey, sock weight yarn isn't that much thicker than lace weight yarn, so maybe I'm getting better! I worked out my own lace pattern for a pair of socks and am knitting merrily along on those. I think I'm ready for the stole again.
Yesterday I made a bunch of pretty little stitch markers. I came up with a plan to mark the end of each pattern repeat across the row so that I would know where each section starts in the event that something went wrong and I needed to count stitches. I pulled out the stole at 5 pm and worked a row to put it on the Addis. The knitting went so much more smoothly! I zoomed through rows 8-12, and on Row 13...disaster. Something was terribly wrong. Counting back did not reveal the mistake, so I knew I had to frog. Sadly, I didn't think to move up the life-line at any point, so I had to frog back to the VERY FIRST ROW.
I started up again. I thought to myself, this is actually a good thing because now I'm knitting on the really good needles and I can make sure my tension is more even. It will actually make the finished project look better.
I knit three rows and frogged back to the first row. I knit five rows and frogged back to the first row. I knit 6 rows and thought "Ha ha! I'm going to move the life line so that I can actually make progress!" Smart move, no? I also thought "I'm going to leave in the original life line just in case!" Good plan.
Here's where everything went wrong. Instead of spending the 1 minute it would take to look through my bag for more thread, I just pulled the bottom life line out a bit and cut it in half. There was plenty of extra thread hanging out both sides. I put in the second life line and knit up to row 11. Something went wrong. No problem, life line!
I ripped back to the second life line and noticed that it had pulled through the last 20 stitches or so. Good thing I have the first life line as a back up. Except that my first life line has also pulled through about a quarter of the stitches. It dawned on me that I was going to have to rip back the entire stole again and do another provisional cast on. I frogged the stole, rewound the yarn and put the whole thing back into the project bag.
When Jim came home from his guys' night out, I said "Do you want to see all the work I did on my stole between 5pm and 11pm?" I pulled out the empty lace needles. Jim said "Not going to well, huh?"
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Nintendo DS Has Been Located!
Call off the APB. I found the DS! Remember how I mentioned I thought the DS was not in our house? I found it completely by accident today in my car as we were pulling into the driveway. I happened to glance downwards and to the side and saw the case poking out from underneath Jim's sweatshirt, which has been in the car for, coincidentally, as long as the DS has been missing.
Jim and I are pretty sure that Lily was using the DS in the car and one of us then put it in the front before getting out at our destination. Just for the record, Jim told me several times this week that he searched my car, because that was one of the first places I thought of once it was pretty clear (to me, anyway) that the game was not in our house. Today he admitted he only looked on the floor in the back seat. I really should have looked in the car, too. Everyone knows that men are genetically defective when it comes to finding something lost because they have difficulty moving and/or looking underneath things! I really can't believe I didn't notice it all week, but I obviously didn't pick Jim's sweatshirt up off the floor!
I'm relieved that we found it because something else has gone missing. Jim took a brand new loaf of sour dough bread out of the refrigerator while I was at my all day crop on Saturday (Saturday was National Scrapbooking Day!). He advised me this morning that the loaf of bread was missing. He claims that he left it on the counter to thaw, used some of it for dinner last night and then put it in the bread basket we have on the counter. This morning, the basket was empty. We have looked in every cabinet in the kitchen, inside the oven and in the refrigerator and freezer and cannot find it. Jim queried whether the squirrel that's been eating all of our bird seed got into the house and snatched it! We both wondered whether someone was coming into our house and taking stuff or (eek!) living inside our walls like in that movie!
Jim thinks he probably accidentally threw the bread out or left it somewhere random in the house because he was "so busy making dinner and taking care of the kids" while I was gone. Since I spent another hour looking for the DS this morning, I'm confident that the bread is not in the office, living room, guest room, dining room, bath room or Lily's room. I haven't searched the basement or the upstairs.
Anyway, now that we found the DS I feel a little less like Jim's been trying to Gaslight me all week. Or like someone is living in the walls, playing Nintendo and eating sour dough bread!
Jim and I are pretty sure that Lily was using the DS in the car and one of us then put it in the front before getting out at our destination. Just for the record, Jim told me several times this week that he searched my car, because that was one of the first places I thought of once it was pretty clear (to me, anyway) that the game was not in our house. Today he admitted he only looked on the floor in the back seat. I really should have looked in the car, too. Everyone knows that men are genetically defective when it comes to finding something lost because they have difficulty moving and/or looking underneath things! I really can't believe I didn't notice it all week, but I obviously didn't pick Jim's sweatshirt up off the floor!
I'm relieved that we found it because something else has gone missing. Jim took a brand new loaf of sour dough bread out of the refrigerator while I was at my all day crop on Saturday (Saturday was National Scrapbooking Day!). He advised me this morning that the loaf of bread was missing. He claims that he left it on the counter to thaw, used some of it for dinner last night and then put it in the bread basket we have on the counter. This morning, the basket was empty. We have looked in every cabinet in the kitchen, inside the oven and in the refrigerator and freezer and cannot find it. Jim queried whether the squirrel that's been eating all of our bird seed got into the house and snatched it! We both wondered whether someone was coming into our house and taking stuff or (eek!) living inside our walls like in that movie!
Jim thinks he probably accidentally threw the bread out or left it somewhere random in the house because he was "so busy making dinner and taking care of the kids" while I was gone. Since I spent another hour looking for the DS this morning, I'm confident that the bread is not in the office, living room, guest room, dining room, bath room or Lily's room. I haven't searched the basement or the upstairs.
Anyway, now that we found the DS I feel a little less like Jim's been trying to Gaslight me all week. Or like someone is living in the walls, playing Nintendo and eating sour dough bread!
Friday, May 2, 2008
My House is a Black Hole
I have just spent an hour scouring my house for Jim's Nintendo DS Lite game.
Missing Item Report
Subject name: Nintendo DS game
Date of Report: Sunday April 27, 2008 Missing Since: April 26 or 27
Description: Shiny black plastic, last seen wearing a navy blue and black padded case and holding a white stylus. Known to be carrying Jim's mod chip and at least two games in its pocket when last seen.
Facts: Subject last seen by me recharging batteries on the kitchen counter. I believe this event took place last Friday. It was definitely before the weekend. Upon interview, Jim stated that he had last seen the subject sitting on the back of the couch during the weekend. Subject was not reported missing until Sunday evening, at which time this household officer did not take the report seriously. Many items go missing for brief periods of time and show up a few hours later. I don't consider an item officially "missing" until it's been gone at least 24 hours.
Upon interview, Lily stated that she did not know where the subject was and did not recall whether she had seen it or not. Upon interview, Jack stated "Papa game GONE."
Jim searched the home half-heartedly on April 27. Both Jim and I searched a little more thoroughly on several occasions between that date and May 1, 2008. I conducted a hard target search this afternoon, with no success.
Status: The game is really missing!
Seriously, this house is not that big. I've checked all of the kids' usual hiding spots: behind the couch, behind the chair, behind the radiators, in my knitting basket, in the storage drawers under Lily's bed (where I located the missing flashcards she's supposed to be working on), in the bathroom cabinets and in the TV cabinet. No game to be found.
My Household Officer instincts are telling me that the game was removed from the house by someone. I checked the car to see if Lily brought it with her on a ride somewhere, but it is not in my car. I've left a message with Jim to make sure he didn't bring it along with him somewhere and leave it at a friend's house or in his briefcase. Help! I'm running out of ideas! Maybe a masked intruder broke into our home and stole the DS?
My usual mantra in these cases is "It'll turn up." Things always do. But the DS has been missing for a long time now. Things usually show up in a couple of days.
There must be a secret kid hiding place that I haven't discovered yet. I'm off to look again, this time while cleaning up the house. Wish me luck! If you can think of any other places I should look, leave a comment. This is making me CRAAAAA-ZY!
PS: Thanks for the nice comments, both on here and in real life. I'm not going to let the haters get me down!
Missing Item Report
Subject name: Nintendo DS game
Date of Report: Sunday April 27, 2008 Missing Since: April 26 or 27
Description: Shiny black plastic, last seen wearing a navy blue and black padded case and holding a white stylus. Known to be carrying Jim's mod chip and at least two games in its pocket when last seen.
Facts: Subject last seen by me recharging batteries on the kitchen counter. I believe this event took place last Friday. It was definitely before the weekend. Upon interview, Jim stated that he had last seen the subject sitting on the back of the couch during the weekend. Subject was not reported missing until Sunday evening, at which time this household officer did not take the report seriously. Many items go missing for brief periods of time and show up a few hours later. I don't consider an item officially "missing" until it's been gone at least 24 hours.
Upon interview, Lily stated that she did not know where the subject was and did not recall whether she had seen it or not. Upon interview, Jack stated "Papa game GONE."
Jim searched the home half-heartedly on April 27. Both Jim and I searched a little more thoroughly on several occasions between that date and May 1, 2008. I conducted a hard target search this afternoon, with no success.
Status: The game is really missing!
Seriously, this house is not that big. I've checked all of the kids' usual hiding spots: behind the couch, behind the chair, behind the radiators, in my knitting basket, in the storage drawers under Lily's bed (where I located the missing flashcards she's supposed to be working on), in the bathroom cabinets and in the TV cabinet. No game to be found.
My Household Officer instincts are telling me that the game was removed from the house by someone. I checked the car to see if Lily brought it with her on a ride somewhere, but it is not in my car. I've left a message with Jim to make sure he didn't bring it along with him somewhere and leave it at a friend's house or in his briefcase. Help! I'm running out of ideas! Maybe a masked intruder broke into our home and stole the DS?
My usual mantra in these cases is "It'll turn up." Things always do. But the DS has been missing for a long time now. Things usually show up in a couple of days.
There must be a secret kid hiding place that I haven't discovered yet. I'm off to look again, this time while cleaning up the house. Wish me luck! If you can think of any other places I should look, leave a comment. This is making me CRAAAAA-ZY!
PS: Thanks for the nice comments, both on here and in real life. I'm not going to let the haters get me down!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I Told Them I Couldn't Cook!
As most of you know, I do not cook. Over the almost 17 years of our marriage, Jim has done the majority of the cooking. Why? He likes to cook, he's good at it and it relaxes him.
From time to time, Jim tries to teach me to cook. His lessons consist of him telling me to do something and then criticizing my "technique." For example, he especially dislikes the way I use a whisk. I don't have the appropriate wrist action. He inevitably ends up taking everything away from me and doing it himself "the right way." Needless to say, after about 10 of these lessons, I learned to say "no, thanks!" when he offers to teach me to cook.
I like baking. Baking relaxes me. I like the way you combine a bunch of ingredients into one bowl, mix them together, put them in some type of baking implement and throw them into the oven. No fuss, no muss. The oven does all of the hard work -- I'm only responsible for getting the ingredients mixed and into the oven. I don't even have to pay attention to the oven because it has a timer that automatically lets me know when the baking is done! Cooking, on the other hand, requires one to do a lot of preparation, often in several different bowls and containers, and then hover over everything while you cook it on the stove. There may be continual stirring, or the adding of various ingredients at certain times, and the changing of heat levels. In cooking, the cook controls everything and must attend.
This rather lengthy treatise on cooking/baking is just a lead in to What Happened to Me Yesterday.
You see, we had about a pound of fish left over from my last trip to the fish market. Jim froze it and we agreed that it would be used to make a fish chowder. I adore fish chowder, especially my mom's version.
When my mom was in town a couple of weeks ago, I asked her to help me make chowder. I bought the ingredients, but somehow we never got around to making the chowder. So, on Monday I suggested that this would be a good week to make the chowder and Jim agreed.
On Tuesday morning, I called my mom and added all of the ingredients I needed for the chowder to my weekly grocery list. Then Jim said that I should start the chowder before he got home. He said he thought that would be easiest. I told him that I didn't think I would be able to make an edible chowder. Seriously, I knew there was the delicate cooking of a milk product involved, and that's just a recipe for disaster with me. Jim insisted that chowder was simple and I would be able to do it. "Just call your mom and ask her how she makes it!"
After the shopping was done, I called my mom. This is the recipe she gave me, based on the notes I took during our conversation:
Mom's Fish Chowder
Dice some potatoes and cook them separately. Cut up 1/2 of an onion and saute it in olive oil with 4-5 pieces of bacon cut up into small pieces. When you are done sauteing, make a roux (I have no idea how to spell that) with 2 tablespoons of flour and a cup of cold water. Add that into the bacon and onions and stir. Use low heat. When it thickens, add the potatoes, the fish and slowly add the milk and heavy cream so they don't curdle. Voila! Fish chowder! Easy peasy.
Right away, I had some questions.
Me: Do I saute in the frying pan?
Mom: No, I do mine in my Dutch oven.
Me: Do we have a Dutch oven?
Mom: Yes, the one I gave you.
Me: What does it look like?
Mom: The big metal pot with two handles.
This initial exchange should have warned my mother that I was already swimming beyond my depth with this recipe. Did she try and stop me? No.
I started the chowder at 4:45, figuring I would have plenty of time to get the ingredients together by 5:45, which is when I usually go to pick up the kids from school. I called my mom again:
Me: How big do you cut up the potatoes?
Mom: I dice mine.
Me: Like into little cubes?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Do I boil them in water or saute them?
Mom: Boil them, of course! (talking like I'm stupid, which I am about cooking).
Me: Okay. How long?
Mom: Geez, Wendy! You know how long! Boil them until they are soft.
Me: Okay.
I hung up and called Jim.
Me: Jim, how long do I boil potatoes?
Jim: How big are the pieces?
Me: I'm cubing them into little cubes.
Jim: I figure about 15 minutes. Test them to see if they are soft enough.
Me: Okay!
I hung up and began peeling the potatoes. Once they were peeled, I started to dice them. The first potato I cut flew off the counter and onto the floor. The second piece I cut did the same thing. I tried three different knives before I found one that seemed sharp enough to work. I put the potatoes in our big saucepan and started them to boil. So far, so good.
The next step was the onions and bacon. I decided to put in a whole oinion, because when I cut up half an onion it looked too small. While cutting the onion, my eyes started to sting. I reached up to wipe my eye with the back of the hand holding the knife and flung half an onion and a few small pieces stuck to the knife onto the floor.
My next step was to put the onions into the Dutch Oven (or the "big pot" as it is known to me) to saute them. I sprinkled in a bit of olive oil and turned the burner on medium. The oil started to smoke and sizzle almost immediately, so I threw in the onions and turned the heat down a bit. I let the onions saute while I went to cut up the bacon.
Now, please understand that I picked out some thinly cut, inexpensive bacon to use in this recipe. I grabbed what I thought was the package of bacon out of the fridge and pulled out a big, thick slab of bacon. It did not look like what I purchased, but I thought maybe I picked up the wrong thing. Again, I had to try out a couple of different knives to find one sharp enough to cut the bacon. Note to Jim: We need to sharpen all of our knives. It was slippery and difficult to cut, so my "small" pieces were kind of largish and thick. (I later realized that I was using the extra thick hickory bacon Jim bought, and not the run-of-the-mill cheap bacon I bought).
I checked on the onions. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I remembered that onions would look clear when they were done. I saw that the onions had been sauteing for 15 minutes with no apparent change, so I thought I should add more olive oil. I poured a generous helping in and then put in the bacon.
At first it smelled really good and I was excited. By this time, the potatoes were done and they looked fine. I had the frozen fish thawing in the microwave, and about 30 minutes left before I had to leave for the kids. Oddly, however, the bacon was not really getting crispy like it should, and was instead a series of pasty white blobs that looked disconcertingly like larvae. Also, the onions still weren't clear. I decided to put in another call to my mom.
Me: The onions and bacon aren't cooking. The bacon is just in big, floppy blobs!
Mom: How long have they been in the pan?
Me: About 30 minutes. Do you think I might have too much olive oil?
Mom: How much did you put in?
Me: About 1/2 cup.
Mom: That's way too much! You only need enough to coat the bottom of the pan until the bacon starts to melt. Take a few tablespoons out. (I followed her advice and took out about 5 tablespoons).
Me: Uh-oh, a black residue is forming on the bottom of the pan!
Mom: How high is the heat?
Me: It's on medium!
Mom: I don't know, that should be fine.
Me: It's getting worse -- it's a big burned mess.
Mom: Well, throw it out and try it again.
Me: (thinking to myself, not bloody likely!)
I got off the phone with my mom, shed a few tears and called Jim.
Me: (crying) I think my chowder is inedible. The onions and bacon are a black, smelly mess. Why did you think I could do something this complicated???
This is what my end result looked like:
When Jim got home, he assured me that the onions were just carmelized and that they smelled good. It was a sweet gesture, but I know he was lying. He admitted to me today that he and my mom had discussed the incident and agreed that a recipe involving a bunch of different techniques, like sauteing and a roux, was probably beyond my limited cooking capabilities.
The fish went back into the freezer and we mashed up the potatoes, which were perfectly boiled, by the way.
The 2 olives are STILL in the refrigerator, for those of you who might be wondering. I'm going to see how long they stay in there until Jim either (a) makes them into a sandwich (right) or (b) throws them away.
From time to time, Jim tries to teach me to cook. His lessons consist of him telling me to do something and then criticizing my "technique." For example, he especially dislikes the way I use a whisk. I don't have the appropriate wrist action. He inevitably ends up taking everything away from me and doing it himself "the right way." Needless to say, after about 10 of these lessons, I learned to say "no, thanks!" when he offers to teach me to cook.
I like baking. Baking relaxes me. I like the way you combine a bunch of ingredients into one bowl, mix them together, put them in some type of baking implement and throw them into the oven. No fuss, no muss. The oven does all of the hard work -- I'm only responsible for getting the ingredients mixed and into the oven. I don't even have to pay attention to the oven because it has a timer that automatically lets me know when the baking is done! Cooking, on the other hand, requires one to do a lot of preparation, often in several different bowls and containers, and then hover over everything while you cook it on the stove. There may be continual stirring, or the adding of various ingredients at certain times, and the changing of heat levels. In cooking, the cook controls everything and must attend.
This rather lengthy treatise on cooking/baking is just a lead in to What Happened to Me Yesterday.
You see, we had about a pound of fish left over from my last trip to the fish market. Jim froze it and we agreed that it would be used to make a fish chowder. I adore fish chowder, especially my mom's version.
When my mom was in town a couple of weeks ago, I asked her to help me make chowder. I bought the ingredients, but somehow we never got around to making the chowder. So, on Monday I suggested that this would be a good week to make the chowder and Jim agreed.
On Tuesday morning, I called my mom and added all of the ingredients I needed for the chowder to my weekly grocery list. Then Jim said that I should start the chowder before he got home. He said he thought that would be easiest. I told him that I didn't think I would be able to make an edible chowder. Seriously, I knew there was the delicate cooking of a milk product involved, and that's just a recipe for disaster with me. Jim insisted that chowder was simple and I would be able to do it. "Just call your mom and ask her how she makes it!"
After the shopping was done, I called my mom. This is the recipe she gave me, based on the notes I took during our conversation:
Mom's Fish Chowder
Dice some potatoes and cook them separately. Cut up 1/2 of an onion and saute it in olive oil with 4-5 pieces of bacon cut up into small pieces. When you are done sauteing, make a roux (I have no idea how to spell that) with 2 tablespoons of flour and a cup of cold water. Add that into the bacon and onions and stir. Use low heat. When it thickens, add the potatoes, the fish and slowly add the milk and heavy cream so they don't curdle. Voila! Fish chowder! Easy peasy.
Right away, I had some questions.
Me: Do I saute in the frying pan?
Mom: No, I do mine in my Dutch oven.
Me: Do we have a Dutch oven?
Mom: Yes, the one I gave you.
Me: What does it look like?
Mom: The big metal pot with two handles.
This initial exchange should have warned my mother that I was already swimming beyond my depth with this recipe. Did she try and stop me? No.
I started the chowder at 4:45, figuring I would have plenty of time to get the ingredients together by 5:45, which is when I usually go to pick up the kids from school. I called my mom again:
Me: How big do you cut up the potatoes?
Mom: I dice mine.
Me: Like into little cubes?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Do I boil them in water or saute them?
Mom: Boil them, of course! (talking like I'm stupid, which I am about cooking).
Me: Okay. How long?
Mom: Geez, Wendy! You know how long! Boil them until they are soft.
Me: Okay.
I hung up and called Jim.
Me: Jim, how long do I boil potatoes?
Jim: How big are the pieces?
Me: I'm cubing them into little cubes.
Jim: I figure about 15 minutes. Test them to see if they are soft enough.
Me: Okay!
I hung up and began peeling the potatoes. Once they were peeled, I started to dice them. The first potato I cut flew off the counter and onto the floor. The second piece I cut did the same thing. I tried three different knives before I found one that seemed sharp enough to work. I put the potatoes in our big saucepan and started them to boil. So far, so good.
The next step was the onions and bacon. I decided to put in a whole oinion, because when I cut up half an onion it looked too small. While cutting the onion, my eyes started to sting. I reached up to wipe my eye with the back of the hand holding the knife and flung half an onion and a few small pieces stuck to the knife onto the floor.
My next step was to put the onions into the Dutch Oven (or the "big pot" as it is known to me) to saute them. I sprinkled in a bit of olive oil and turned the burner on medium. The oil started to smoke and sizzle almost immediately, so I threw in the onions and turned the heat down a bit. I let the onions saute while I went to cut up the bacon.
Now, please understand that I picked out some thinly cut, inexpensive bacon to use in this recipe. I grabbed what I thought was the package of bacon out of the fridge and pulled out a big, thick slab of bacon. It did not look like what I purchased, but I thought maybe I picked up the wrong thing. Again, I had to try out a couple of different knives to find one sharp enough to cut the bacon. Note to Jim: We need to sharpen all of our knives. It was slippery and difficult to cut, so my "small" pieces were kind of largish and thick. (I later realized that I was using the extra thick hickory bacon Jim bought, and not the run-of-the-mill cheap bacon I bought).
I checked on the onions. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I remembered that onions would look clear when they were done. I saw that the onions had been sauteing for 15 minutes with no apparent change, so I thought I should add more olive oil. I poured a generous helping in and then put in the bacon.
At first it smelled really good and I was excited. By this time, the potatoes were done and they looked fine. I had the frozen fish thawing in the microwave, and about 30 minutes left before I had to leave for the kids. Oddly, however, the bacon was not really getting crispy like it should, and was instead a series of pasty white blobs that looked disconcertingly like larvae. Also, the onions still weren't clear. I decided to put in another call to my mom.
Me: The onions and bacon aren't cooking. The bacon is just in big, floppy blobs!
Mom: How long have they been in the pan?
Me: About 30 minutes. Do you think I might have too much olive oil?
Mom: How much did you put in?
Me: About 1/2 cup.
Mom: That's way too much! You only need enough to coat the bottom of the pan until the bacon starts to melt. Take a few tablespoons out. (I followed her advice and took out about 5 tablespoons).
Me: Uh-oh, a black residue is forming on the bottom of the pan!
Mom: How high is the heat?
Me: It's on medium!
Mom: I don't know, that should be fine.
Me: It's getting worse -- it's a big burned mess.
Mom: Well, throw it out and try it again.
Me: (thinking to myself, not bloody likely!)
I got off the phone with my mom, shed a few tears and called Jim.
Me: (crying) I think my chowder is inedible. The onions and bacon are a black, smelly mess. Why did you think I could do something this complicated???
This is what my end result looked like:
When Jim got home, he assured me that the onions were just carmelized and that they smelled good. It was a sweet gesture, but I know he was lying. He admitted to me today that he and my mom had discussed the incident and agreed that a recipe involving a bunch of different techniques, like sauteing and a roux, was probably beyond my limited cooking capabilities.
The fish went back into the freezer and we mashed up the potatoes, which were perfectly boiled, by the way.
The 2 olives are STILL in the refrigerator, for those of you who might be wondering. I'm going to see how long they stay in there until Jim either (a) makes them into a sandwich (right) or (b) throws them away.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
A Whole Lotta Nuthin'
Jury duty went off without a hitch and was much as expected. Framingham District Court is very small, so there were only about 35 people in the pool. I was Juror Number 1. Before the process got started, a few prospective jurors were asking questions about the process and I answered. One man said "Wow, you must have a lot of experience being a juror!" I said "Actually, I used to be a trial lawyer. I've never been picked for a jury." A couple of people asked why and I said "No attorney in his right mind would want a former Commonwealth attorney from a law enforcement agency to serve on criminal jury."
After a while, we watched the dorky video about jury service with an introduction by Supreme Judicial Court Justice Margaret Marshall, whose Austrian? German? unknown accent, combined with her inability to say the word "r," made her sound a little bit like a foreign "Baba WaWa" from Saturday Night Live. The video, which I have seen before, is ridiculous. After Justice Marshall finishes her speech, the scene fades into a mock courtroom. There are two women who portray and attorney and a judge, both of whom discuss aspects of a typical trial. The other portion of the courtroom narrative is done by a 60ish man in a navy blue suit with Buddy Holly glasses. He tends to pose with his hands grasping his coat lapels, and he likes to punctuate the important points by putting on and taking off his glasses. People were actually snickering during his portion of the film (and during Justice Marshall's cwazy pwesentation). I felt a little humiliated to be represented as a lawyer by that movie, but what can you do?
After about 2 hours of sitting around, we were called upstairs. Just as I predicted, the case was a DUI with a female defendant. She was nicely dressed in a black sweater and red plaid wool pants. She looked to be my age or older. I was really curious to hear the circumstances that got her charged with a DUI, but before a jury is chosen, they don't give you any details. Since I was Number 1, I was the first person seated in the jury box. I was really excited because that meant I would most likely be chosen as the foreman.
As soon as they had the first 8 jurors in the box, the lawyers went to sidebar. The people at sidebar are supposed to be quiet, but I could hear the defense attorney saying "Number 1 should be dismissed for cause because she wrote here that she was an attorney for the Commonwealth." After a few more minutes, the judge called me over.
Judge: "Do you think you can be impartial even though you used to work for the Commonwealth?"
Me: "I think so."
J: "When you say 'think,' what does that mean?"
Me: "I would certainly hope that as an attorney I would be able to put all bias aside and consider the case on the facts."
J: "Do you think you would find the testimony of a police officer true solely because he was a police officer?"
Me: "Absolutely not. I would weigh the officer's credibility just like any other witness."
J: "I find that you can serve as a juror."
Me: (thinking to myself "Awesome!")
DA: "I have no problem with this juror."
Defense Attorney: "Can I be heard?" (Uh-oh...)
I had to step to the side while they argued. The judge made the defense attorney use up one of his 2 peremptory challenges to take me off the panel. I hoped he wouldn't think it was worth it, but I got dinged back to the waiting bench with everyone else. The man sitting next to me said "Wow, just like you predicted."
It was sad, really. I tried very hard to get on. The poor woman next to me, who really didn't want to serve, ended up getting selected. I think I would have made a good juror, too. Oh well. Maybe in 3 years!
After a while, we watched the dorky video about jury service with an introduction by Supreme Judicial Court Justice Margaret Marshall, whose Austrian? German? unknown accent, combined with her inability to say the word "r," made her sound a little bit like a foreign "Baba WaWa" from Saturday Night Live. The video, which I have seen before, is ridiculous. After Justice Marshall finishes her speech, the scene fades into a mock courtroom. There are two women who portray and attorney and a judge, both of whom discuss aspects of a typical trial. The other portion of the courtroom narrative is done by a 60ish man in a navy blue suit with Buddy Holly glasses. He tends to pose with his hands grasping his coat lapels, and he likes to punctuate the important points by putting on and taking off his glasses. People were actually snickering during his portion of the film (and during Justice Marshall's cwazy pwesentation). I felt a little humiliated to be represented as a lawyer by that movie, but what can you do?
After about 2 hours of sitting around, we were called upstairs. Just as I predicted, the case was a DUI with a female defendant. She was nicely dressed in a black sweater and red plaid wool pants. She looked to be my age or older. I was really curious to hear the circumstances that got her charged with a DUI, but before a jury is chosen, they don't give you any details. Since I was Number 1, I was the first person seated in the jury box. I was really excited because that meant I would most likely be chosen as the foreman.
As soon as they had the first 8 jurors in the box, the lawyers went to sidebar. The people at sidebar are supposed to be quiet, but I could hear the defense attorney saying "Number 1 should be dismissed for cause because she wrote here that she was an attorney for the Commonwealth." After a few more minutes, the judge called me over.
Judge: "Do you think you can be impartial even though you used to work for the Commonwealth?"
Me: "I think so."
J: "When you say 'think,' what does that mean?"
Me: "I would certainly hope that as an attorney I would be able to put all bias aside and consider the case on the facts."
J: "Do you think you would find the testimony of a police officer true solely because he was a police officer?"
Me: "Absolutely not. I would weigh the officer's credibility just like any other witness."
J: "I find that you can serve as a juror."
Me: (thinking to myself "Awesome!")
DA: "I have no problem with this juror."
Defense Attorney: "Can I be heard?" (Uh-oh...)
I had to step to the side while they argued. The judge made the defense attorney use up one of his 2 peremptory challenges to take me off the panel. I hoped he wouldn't think it was worth it, but I got dinged back to the waiting bench with everyone else. The man sitting next to me said "Wow, just like you predicted."
It was sad, really. I tried very hard to get on. The poor woman next to me, who really didn't want to serve, ended up getting selected. I think I would have made a good juror, too. Oh well. Maybe in 3 years!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
There's Not Much to Tell
We haven't had much going on here, mostly due to my illness and the 10 inches of snow we got yesterday.
The good news is that I finally feel like I'm getting over whatever evil disease I've been suffering from. The bad news is that I have not been cleaning the house since I got sick and it is terrifyingly unclean. This means that I'll be doing a whole lot of cleaning on Thursday and Friday in order to make sure it doesn't cut into family time on the weekend.
Jim's company was closed during yesterday's storm, so we had a snow day at home. The kids had fun playing snowball fight with Jim and our neighbors Alex and his two kids, Tyler and Emma. I got a few pictures, which I'll try to post later this week, along with some shots of our new office and Lily's new and improved bedroom. Oh yeah, and the kitchen, which a lot of you haven't seen since the (mostly completed) makeover.
In other news, I have jury duty tomorrow in Framingham. I haven't been in a court since May when I was finishing up my last jury trial. My panel is assigned to Framingham District Court, which means that I'm probably going to be up for selection on a criminal case (misdemeanor, since all felony trials in Massachusetts take place in Superior Courts). My educated guess would be a DUI case, since that's mostly what you see in district court -- that or drug charges.
The last time I was called for jury duty, I had to go to Marlborough District Court. As I handed in my juror information sheet, I asked the court officer whether my address would be kept from the criminal defendant. He glanced at my sheet and said "Don't worry, you're never getting on a criminal jury."
He's probably right. When I was trying cases, the last person I wanted on a civil jury was a lawyer. The big concern is that other jurors will be persuaded by an attorney to adopt his/her point of view because the attorney "knows the law." That means that you could end up trying your case to a jury of one, which is never a good thing. In the criminal context, not only would you try and avoid a lawyer, but you'd also want to avoid anyone who has relatives in law enforcement or who has worked themselves in law enforcement. Why? Because these people are more likely to believe the word of a member of law enforcement than the word of a criminal defendant.
I'd actually like to serve on a jury if I could be sure it would be a one day trial. I think it would be interesting to see how a jury panel thinks about evidence. Unfortunately, I don't know any lawyers who have ever served on a panel once they were admitted to the bar, so I'm pretty sure I won't get to, either. I thought I could call myself a homemaker on the questionnaire, but they make it so you have to tell what you did before you were a homemaker. I had already cleverly disguised my law degree as a doctoral degree, but having to state what my last job was kind of blew that out of the water. Oh well.
It is going to be somewhat of a nightmare to drive to Framingham during rush hour tomorrow. Although I really dread the commute, I am trying to psych myself up for the day by imagining what interesting people I will get to see. More on that later, I hope!
The good news is that I finally feel like I'm getting over whatever evil disease I've been suffering from. The bad news is that I have not been cleaning the house since I got sick and it is terrifyingly unclean. This means that I'll be doing a whole lot of cleaning on Thursday and Friday in order to make sure it doesn't cut into family time on the weekend.
Jim's company was closed during yesterday's storm, so we had a snow day at home. The kids had fun playing snowball fight with Jim and our neighbors Alex and his two kids, Tyler and Emma. I got a few pictures, which I'll try to post later this week, along with some shots of our new office and Lily's new and improved bedroom. Oh yeah, and the kitchen, which a lot of you haven't seen since the (mostly completed) makeover.
In other news, I have jury duty tomorrow in Framingham. I haven't been in a court since May when I was finishing up my last jury trial. My panel is assigned to Framingham District Court, which means that I'm probably going to be up for selection on a criminal case (misdemeanor, since all felony trials in Massachusetts take place in Superior Courts). My educated guess would be a DUI case, since that's mostly what you see in district court -- that or drug charges.
The last time I was called for jury duty, I had to go to Marlborough District Court. As I handed in my juror information sheet, I asked the court officer whether my address would be kept from the criminal defendant. He glanced at my sheet and said "Don't worry, you're never getting on a criminal jury."
He's probably right. When I was trying cases, the last person I wanted on a civil jury was a lawyer. The big concern is that other jurors will be persuaded by an attorney to adopt his/her point of view because the attorney "knows the law." That means that you could end up trying your case to a jury of one, which is never a good thing. In the criminal context, not only would you try and avoid a lawyer, but you'd also want to avoid anyone who has relatives in law enforcement or who has worked themselves in law enforcement. Why? Because these people are more likely to believe the word of a member of law enforcement than the word of a criminal defendant.
I'd actually like to serve on a jury if I could be sure it would be a one day trial. I think it would be interesting to see how a jury panel thinks about evidence. Unfortunately, I don't know any lawyers who have ever served on a panel once they were admitted to the bar, so I'm pretty sure I won't get to, either. I thought I could call myself a homemaker on the questionnaire, but they make it so you have to tell what you did before you were a homemaker. I had already cleverly disguised my law degree as a doctoral degree, but having to state what my last job was kind of blew that out of the water. Oh well.
It is going to be somewhat of a nightmare to drive to Framingham during rush hour tomorrow. Although I really dread the commute, I am trying to psych myself up for the day by imagining what interesting people I will get to see. More on that later, I hope!
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Still Sick Over Here...
By the time Thursday rolled around, my cold was getting worse and it was complicated by a swollen gland or lymph node (I'm not a doctor, so I don't know) under my chin that made it hard to chew. Sadly, my scheduled trip to the doctor proved to be humiliating and of little help. Jim met me in the waiting room so he could entertain Jack during my appointment. As I was checking myself in, the receptionist heard me cough and made me put on a blue surgical mask. I then had to sit down in the crowded waiting room as everyone stared at me as if I was a leper.
The mask was made of paper formed in a dome, and it had a metal strip over the bridge of the nose so that you could make it fit. After about 30 seconds, the mask made my face sweat. Also, I had to keep pulling the mask down to blow my nose. I decided to leave the mask around my neck and pulled it over my mouth only when I had to cough. Big mistake. The receptionist saw me and said loudly "Ma'am, you need to keep that mask on." I said "I am keeping it on when I cough. It makes my face sweat and I can't blow my nose." She said "No, it has to stay on at all times."
Now I'm not only the waiting room leper, but I've been identified as one who is recklessly exposing everyone to my evil germs of doom. I put the sweat dome over my nose and mouth again and suffered in angry silence for the next thirty minutes. I just know that there were a bunch of dangerously ill patients around me with no upper respiratory symptoms who were sitting there, mask free, enjoying my torture and spreading *their* evil germs of doom to all of the unsuspecting patients.
Of course, once they finally called me in for my appointment, my temperature, which has been between 100-101 for almost a week, was normal, according to the nurse. Apparently, taking the cold medicine that morning was a bad plan, because this bit of information ultimately led my doctor to believe I had a virus and not a bacterial illness. I guess he saw the misery and pleading in my eyes, because he said "I'm 95% sure it's viral, but I am prescribing you a Z-pack to take on Sunday if you aren't getting better by then." He also gave me some cough medicine with codeine to help me sleep.
You see, my doctor does not like to prescribe antibiotics unless the bacterium are standing on your face and waving at him. He is of the opinion that Americans take too many unnecessary antibiotics and are therefore increasing the number of resistant diseases. I know he's right, but his diagnosis (or lack of one) left me feeling at a loss. I felt so sick, I could barely make it through the day taking care of the kids, but I ended up agreeing that I would wait until Sunday to start the antibiotics.
Jim agreed I should wait to take the Z-pack. The doctor also recommended that I take Claritin, and since Jim's company makes Loratadine (same thing), we have tons at home. Jim felt that the Claritin was going to fix my situation. So I followed instructions.
...and I got sicker and sicker, and my jaw hurt even more. I finally broke down this morning and took the first two pills in the Z-pack at about 8 am. Now, maybe it's a placebo effect or maybe my "virus" was already turning the corner, but by 4:00 pm, the soreness and swelling under my jaw was significantly better. I personally believe that the antibiotics are playing a role. When I mentioned it to Jim, he told me "It can't be the Z-pack already." Later this evening, however, he said "I told you to take the Z-pack on Thursday."
Huh? Apparently it was his evil twin that told me to follow the doctor's instructions. Whatever. The jury's still out on whether my other symptoms are abating. I got a lot of rest today, courtesy of Jim watching the kids and I hope I'll start to feel better when I wake up in the morning.
And Jim? He's been out with his friends 3 times since I got sick. He's out tonight with our neighbor, who is watching his two kids alone this weekend while his wife is out of town. Alex, the neighbor, called me 30 minutes into his time alone with both kids and asked if they could have a play date at my house, but I digress. As Jim was getting ready to go out, I mentioned how often he'd been out this week.
Jim: "But it was at night when the kids were in bed."
Me: "Did you ever think I might like someone to take care of me after I've been taking care of the kids all day feeling sick?"
Jim: "Oh. I'm sorry. But I have to go because I promised I would."
I don't begrudge him time out with his friends, and lord knows that no one really wants to hang around with a sick spouse who spends the evening coughing up a lung, but it would have been nice to have someone take care of me for a while. Just sayin'.
The mask was made of paper formed in a dome, and it had a metal strip over the bridge of the nose so that you could make it fit. After about 30 seconds, the mask made my face sweat. Also, I had to keep pulling the mask down to blow my nose. I decided to leave the mask around my neck and pulled it over my mouth only when I had to cough. Big mistake. The receptionist saw me and said loudly "Ma'am, you need to keep that mask on." I said "I am keeping it on when I cough. It makes my face sweat and I can't blow my nose." She said "No, it has to stay on at all times."
Now I'm not only the waiting room leper, but I've been identified as one who is recklessly exposing everyone to my evil germs of doom. I put the sweat dome over my nose and mouth again and suffered in angry silence for the next thirty minutes. I just know that there were a bunch of dangerously ill patients around me with no upper respiratory symptoms who were sitting there, mask free, enjoying my torture and spreading *their* evil germs of doom to all of the unsuspecting patients.
Of course, once they finally called me in for my appointment, my temperature, which has been between 100-101 for almost a week, was normal, according to the nurse. Apparently, taking the cold medicine that morning was a bad plan, because this bit of information ultimately led my doctor to believe I had a virus and not a bacterial illness. I guess he saw the misery and pleading in my eyes, because he said "I'm 95% sure it's viral, but I am prescribing you a Z-pack to take on Sunday if you aren't getting better by then." He also gave me some cough medicine with codeine to help me sleep.
You see, my doctor does not like to prescribe antibiotics unless the bacterium are standing on your face and waving at him. He is of the opinion that Americans take too many unnecessary antibiotics and are therefore increasing the number of resistant diseases. I know he's right, but his diagnosis (or lack of one) left me feeling at a loss. I felt so sick, I could barely make it through the day taking care of the kids, but I ended up agreeing that I would wait until Sunday to start the antibiotics.
Jim agreed I should wait to take the Z-pack. The doctor also recommended that I take Claritin, and since Jim's company makes Loratadine (same thing), we have tons at home. Jim felt that the Claritin was going to fix my situation. So I followed instructions.
...and I got sicker and sicker, and my jaw hurt even more. I finally broke down this morning and took the first two pills in the Z-pack at about 8 am. Now, maybe it's a placebo effect or maybe my "virus" was already turning the corner, but by 4:00 pm, the soreness and swelling under my jaw was significantly better. I personally believe that the antibiotics are playing a role. When I mentioned it to Jim, he told me "It can't be the Z-pack already." Later this evening, however, he said "I told you to take the Z-pack on Thursday."
Huh? Apparently it was his evil twin that told me to follow the doctor's instructions. Whatever. The jury's still out on whether my other symptoms are abating. I got a lot of rest today, courtesy of Jim watching the kids and I hope I'll start to feel better when I wake up in the morning.
And Jim? He's been out with his friends 3 times since I got sick. He's out tonight with our neighbor, who is watching his two kids alone this weekend while his wife is out of town. Alex, the neighbor, called me 30 minutes into his time alone with both kids and asked if they could have a play date at my house, but I digress. As Jim was getting ready to go out, I mentioned how often he'd been out this week.
Jim: "But it was at night when the kids were in bed."
Me: "Did you ever think I might like someone to take care of me after I've been taking care of the kids all day feeling sick?"
Jim: "Oh. I'm sorry. But I have to go because I promised I would."
I don't begrudge him time out with his friends, and lord knows that no one really wants to hang around with a sick spouse who spends the evening coughing up a lung, but it would have been nice to have someone take care of me for a while. Just sayin'.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Now I'm Sick...
Lest anyone think I'm not keeping up on my blog, I just wanted to let you know I'm getting slowed down by my cold/flu/infection or whatever it is I have going on right now. Jim was recovered from his illness by Tuesday, and Lily and Jack both seem fine (although Lily still has a croupy cough). I can't seem to shake the sickness I've had since last week, probably due to the fact that Jim feels he's "taken enough time off from work lately" and can't help me with the kids this week. As a result, it's difficult for me to get much rest.
So, today my neighbor Beth took Lily to ballet and kept her at her house to play with her friend Emma so that I could take a real nap this afternoon while Jack slept. That was nice, and I feel much better this evening as a result. Jim was supposed to be home at 3:30 to give me a break, but he ended up walking in at 5:30, so Beth really did me a favor keeping Lily all that time (11:45-5:30). Once Jim got home, she invited both kids over for a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Jim took Jack over there so I have a bit of quiet time to myself.
I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, and I'm actually hoping that whatever I have can be treated with antibiotics so I can get rid of it quickly. We'll see.
Lily had a terrific day at her friend Emma's and I found out her ballet costume will be ready soon! It sounds like they will be dressed as little Santas, but since this is based on a 4 year old's description, I'll have to wait until next Wednesday to see what it really looks like.
If anyone is interested in attending Lily's first ballet recital, it will be on Sunday, May 18th. According to the newsletter Lily brought home, there will be a lottery for the tickets. I have no idea why. This is what the newsletter says (all grammatical and punctuation errors are in the original):
Recital tickets are done by a lottery, starting Monday, January 28th - February 2nd students will be able to pick a number out of a jar and we will record that number next to your name on our studio roster. This will be the order your tickets are pulled for the lottery. In April you will pick up a recital ticket order form, with your name and number on it. You fill out how many tickets you need and for which show and hand it in paid in full. You will be able to pick them up at the front desk starting April 28th -- May 3rd. Any tickets still available will be on sale starting May 4th.
I have a few questions about this information:
(1) Why is a lottery necessary? Is it because there are a limited amount of tickets available? Or does it have to do with where your seat is in the audience?
(2) I have to PAY for my tickets? Whaaaaat? I'm paying for her lessons and the costume (quite a bit for the costume, actually). I hope at least two tickets are comped and I'm only paying for additional seats.
If you want to attend, please let me know before April 1st so that I can put in my order.
So, today my neighbor Beth took Lily to ballet and kept her at her house to play with her friend Emma so that I could take a real nap this afternoon while Jack slept. That was nice, and I feel much better this evening as a result. Jim was supposed to be home at 3:30 to give me a break, but he ended up walking in at 5:30, so Beth really did me a favor keeping Lily all that time (11:45-5:30). Once Jim got home, she invited both kids over for a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Jim took Jack over there so I have a bit of quiet time to myself.
I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow afternoon, and I'm actually hoping that whatever I have can be treated with antibiotics so I can get rid of it quickly. We'll see.
Lily had a terrific day at her friend Emma's and I found out her ballet costume will be ready soon! It sounds like they will be dressed as little Santas, but since this is based on a 4 year old's description, I'll have to wait until next Wednesday to see what it really looks like.
If anyone is interested in attending Lily's first ballet recital, it will be on Sunday, May 18th. According to the newsletter Lily brought home, there will be a lottery for the tickets. I have no idea why. This is what the newsletter says (all grammatical and punctuation errors are in the original):
Recital tickets are done by a lottery, starting Monday, January 28th - February 2nd students will be able to pick a number out of a jar and we will record that number next to your name on our studio roster. This will be the order your tickets are pulled for the lottery. In April you will pick up a recital ticket order form, with your name and number on it. You fill out how many tickets you need and for which show and hand it in paid in full. You will be able to pick them up at the front desk starting April 28th -- May 3rd. Any tickets still available will be on sale starting May 4th.
I have a few questions about this information:
(1) Why is a lottery necessary? Is it because there are a limited amount of tickets available? Or does it have to do with where your seat is in the audience?
(2) I have to PAY for my tickets? Whaaaaat? I'm paying for her lessons and the costume (quite a bit for the costume, actually). I hope at least two tickets are comped and I'm only paying for additional seats.
If you want to attend, please let me know before April 1st so that I can put in my order.
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