Feels like a HumpDay …

4:00pm.  Good news and bad news so far today.  Rewind to …

10:45am.  Kim returns from his annual cardiology exam/report full of great news — the sonogram shows no sign of muscle damage, his blood pressure read 116/63 in the office, and he is, in clinical terms, healthy as a horse.  Everybody hugs and does the happy dance and the house feels warm, and safer than it did at 9:45 before his doctor said to him “You should be around for a very long time.”

11:45am.  My surgeon’s assistant calls to remind me about tomorrow morning’s appointment, which I think is for finishing the graft and freeing my eyelid again but is simply a check-up, at which time Dr. Khan will determine how much longer the graft has to “bake.” I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.

11:46am.  A meltdown may or may not take place, after which Kim takes me to Hog Wild BBQ for a loaded baked potato bigger than my head.  Carb therapy.

2:00pm to present.  Lying prone in a darkened room does wonders for temporary insanity, and by darkened room I mean Facebook and WordPress.  By *lying prone* I mean I’ve intentionally flat-lined for a while, and by *temporary insanity* I mean batshit crazy.

4:15pm.  It’s all good news, of course.  A delay in ditching an irritant does not a tragedy make, the graft looks like it’s healing perfectly, and my well-worn face has not been further marred — the scar is going to fade beautifully and who really cares!

Staying cozy tonight with Kim and Madison and feeling grateful.  Another HumpDay conquered.

humpday frame

 

 

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It’s like life …


… you just jump in somewhere.

I fell asleep last night thinking “Two more dayszZzzzz.”  Yes, kids, this Thursday morning the finish work on the skin graft will happen and the stitches at the inner and outer corners of my eye will be released and life will go on.  Just like that.  Moment of silence, please, while I pay homage to the preceding two months that passed in spite of me.  Thank you.

So … as I was saying, anything can derail us from writing.  It’s a challenge for me to stay focused on the best day, and because I’m a pansy-ass I have to say that the past sixty days or so, taken in their entirety, will not make my “best” list.   Parts of them were excellent, of course … but I digress.

The eye thing is turning out to be a bit of a watershed event (one in a continuing series) in ways I’m still figuring out.  At first it was the teensiest bit scary, and then it was painful, and then it was, and still is, just a nuisance.  It knocked me off my writing rocker, but lonnng since I could see in stereo again I’ve just hung around down here on the floor hoping nobody would notice.  The horse waits …

My dearest, sweetest, most wonderful, funniest, very possibly smartest WordPress/Facebook/Real True Friend Cristy Carrington Lewis triple-dog challenged me to a write-off, first poster wins.  This is me posting but I hope she wins, she’s so precious.  Go say hello at http://paltrymeanderings.com.  She answers to Miss Snarky Pants and she writes a “Humor Blog for Horrible People.”  I ❤️ her.

Here’s to you, darling girl.  Much success as you travel through the blogosphere, and not only in besting silver-haired adolescent seniors (my truth is safe with you, no?) … but in making your mark, of course.

dead and rotten

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Yes. Most emphatically still here.

Anyone between 40 and 65+ gets this — once it starts you’ll do everything cheap and painless to make it stop.  And by it of course I mean aging.  I squandered at least 25 years’-worth of primo brain cells cursing every line, gray hair, and extra pound — “STOP!  STOP IT!!  STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!!!  GIVE ME SOME TIME TO MENTALLY PREPARE!!  {Interweave creative language of your choosing.}”

Over the years it’s inexplicably gotten more challenging to match up the two realities:  I don’t feel any older in my psyche, I’m in fact regressing and there are those who own evidence to prove it, but my exterior road map is relentlessly becoming more detailed, my once-blonde/brown/henna-ish hair has at long last come out of the closet as its own true amazing silver, and my late-life-acquired supplemental mass is stubborn and sneaky so I’ve decided to own it for warmth, comfort, and familiarity.

The rush in all of this is that it doesn’t feel like I’m giving up.  I only have to adapt to the kindergartener around my waist until winter’s over — it’s cruelly cold outside — and then I’m thinking I’ll work on it again.  Or … you know ….. just possibly not, really, not in any stressed-out sort of way.  Because even though my lines and veins are more visible now, I’ve survived to a point where this body’s pretty freaking okay for its years and experiences.  And I’m in love with my shiny silver hair that Shelby at the barbershop cuts for $10+tip and gives it a life of its own so that I might have 99 problems but my hair isn’t ever one of them.  (If I wanted to pull senior rank on her she’d cut it for $5 and probably say about her tip “Oh honey, that’s fine, go buy a coffee or something.”  But WTF, are you kidding?!  Baby Jesus, don’t ever let me get THAT kind of old!)  So anyway how truly awful could it be to haul around more pounds than my body was designed for?  Oh, wait … right … wasn’t taking the whole Life & Death thing into account.  So … you know … erroneous THERE, but …

Well, so I’m going with two out of three unless or until I can change, but meanwhile that tiresome head-voice has gone strangely silent.  After all those years of fighting my body … okay, it was a half-hearted effort at best … she and I are starting to feel like real friends.  Not like, hey I forgive you for being such a biotch and embarrassing me … just … hey … no forgivey-stuff required, I’m you and you’re me and we like each other fine and this feels good.  And wow, hey, look at all the options that just opened up!

“Having work done” was never part of my bucket list, and after having my face sliced and stitched up last month I can tell you that there’s no way I’d do it voluntarily just because things weren’t close enough to perfect.  The twelve women in the slideshow linked here are some of my best role models — I hope you’ll revel in their happy stories!

http://www.purpleclover.com/entertainment/3543-12-stars-say-no-to-plastic-surgery/

I love this woman like Kanye loves Kanye!

JamieLee

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Grown Up Game Day Cheesy Beer Dip

The Kansas Jayhawks will be playing basketball in about twenty minutes over on the hill and here on HD, so we’re in Snack Mode.  Here’s a variation on the usual white-guy queso, and I’m sure you can think of all kinds of ways to personalize it.  Enjoy!

 

Beer Cheese Dip

 

“There are certain times when we are totally okay with indulging in ridiculously yummy foods that we know are probably less than great for our health. Sitting around and watching the big game with friends and family is one of those times when we’re just happy to be around loved ones and we like to soak it all in. (Much like the piece of bread when we dunk it into this dip!)

This beer cheese dip is sinfully delicious and we’re not sorry! Use your favorite beer—keeping in mind that lighter draughts will produce a lighter dip and vice versa—and cheese, gradually melt and blend it all together and you’re golden. You do need to plan out the rest of your party prep, since this dip is best made right before serving, but it’s really easy and packs a flavorful punch, sure to be everyone’s favorite!”

 

Beer Cheese Dip
Yield: 2-2 1/2 cups

Ingredients

1 cup ale or lager (or your choice beer; light and crisp will result in a lighter sauce, etc.)
1 cup cheddar cheese, grated
2/3 cup milk
1/2 cup pepper jack cheese (optional)
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon dry mustard
kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
tortilla chips, for serving
Directions

Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat and add in flour. Stir roux for 2-3 minutes, or until smooth and pasty and flour has had a chance to cook (but not burn).
Whisking continuously, gradually whisk in milk until smooth. Then pour in beer and stir until fully incorporated.
Raise heat to medium-high and let mixture simmer lightly. Stir in Worcestershire sauce and dry mustard and season with salt and pepper.
Continuing to stir, let cook for about 4 minutes, or until sauce thickens.
1/3 cup at a time, add in grated cheese and stir until (almost) fully melted. Then add another handful. Continue with remaining cheese.
Once mixture is smooth and thick, taste and adjust seasoning, if necessary.
Transfer to serving bowl and serve immediately with tortilla chips, crackers, or slices of toasted baguette.

Recipe adapted from Williams Sonoma

http://12tomatoes.com/2015/01/grown-up-game-day-cheesy-beer-dip.html

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Really? Are you kidding me?

See the post before this one?  Okay … GUESS. WHAT. DAY. IT. IS!!  Yes.  Again.

So it may or may not have been a somewhat challenging week in which whimpering, bitching, and one hugh-jass meltdown happened.  Pretty sure there was an afternoon where somebody cried for two or three hours and totally freaked out her husband and fluffy little dog.  The upside is that the eye — the sumbish in our story — actually felt better afterward, so there’s that.

The days have slipped by and the weather outside has gone from cold to warm to cold again.  We’re hibernating … but ready to be sociable.  Not today so much, because it’s snowy and wet and feels like 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and what you hear me saying is that unless you’re coming to our house we won’t be seeing you yet, because the fireplace is just too nice, and Maddie and I are snuggled at my desk with the divine little radiant heater Kim got us today, the same Kim who’s adorably zoned out “watching” TV …  and we’re just not leaving, you can’t make us leave.

It’s gray here, and cold.  I’m glad that never lasts.  Grass and leaves and sunshine always feel slow coming back, just like health and well-being, but it all gets here, and mostly on time.

Coming back.  Might even be back again tomorrow …

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