A Christmas Carol Without The Ghosts – Broken Hearted

Since my last post about my father’s devastating news, a lot has happened.

On August 4th, around noon, my father died. The last 36 days of my father’s life were pretty terrible. Although we tried to make the most of them…how can you possibly enjoy the moment when you know each moment could be the last you spend with that person. Obviously death is possible each and every day for everyone, but getting an expiration date thrown into the mix just makes it far more real.

After his death, nothing was the same. How could it be? The void left was infinite.

My mother did her best to cope, but after 53 years of marriage, it is hard to contemplate a single day without the person you spent so much of your life with. Zeb took the loss especially hard, because although my father was his Papa, he was also his best friend. So I spent much of the past 4 months, 24 days consoling both my mom and my son, all the while doing my best to come to terms with my own grief.

For the most part I thought I was doing okay. I planned activities for my mom and Zeb, I threw myself into cooking and baking, and I became very involved in Zeb’s school’s Parent Group and developing a website for them. With all this distraction, I really thought I was doing good.

With the holidays approaching, however, things got more complicated. They say that all the “firsts” after losing someone are especially hard. Christmas being a holiday that was always celebrated heartily in our family, I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Still, I pushed forward. I bought tickets for all of us (including my Mom) to see A Christmas Carol play, to go to a theater to see a professional choir perform holiday carols, visits to local holiday displays and functions, and a trip to the Toledo Zoo to see their holiday light display and tree lighting. My mom was doing great, truly enjoying the events.

Being that there were so many of our traditions that my father was responsible for or a huge part of, I also took it upon myself to start a few new traditions, while letting these old traditions rest until we were ready to deal with them. One of them was to have a gingerbread house decorating contest. I cut out and baked three different house designs, assembled them (they would have to sit too long to dry before being able to decorate), and then assemble all the icing and decorations for the great decorate-off. This turned out to be an awesome new tradition that my mom is already planning for for next year.

With all the happenings for the past month and a half just for the holidays, I really kept all my emotions in check while still helping my mom and Zeb deal with the ever mounting emotions that were sparked by the upcoming holidays. Or so I thought.

For me, Christmas Eve marked the beginning of the end. It was the last “Christmas” event with my mom, as my brother was spending Christmas day with her. We were going to church for the Christmas Eve service at 3:00, then the traditional Chinese dinner back at my mom’s and opening presents, plum pudding, and relaxing. Christmas day I figured would be very calm because it would be just Hubby, Zeb and Grace. Easy-peasy.

Well, we headed to church at 2:30 and the moment we entered the parking lot, my anxiety level spiked. Walking into church I was immediately flooded with memories of my father and last Christmas when we went to church. Fighting back the tears began immediately. After finding our seats, my mother began to cry. Of course try as I might, at this point I could not control the tears either. For the entire service I sat next to my mother, trying to silence my uncontrollable sobs. By the end of the service, my head was throbbing and I was exhausted.

Once outside the church, I took a deep breath and regained my composure. We then drove to my mom’s while Grace went to pick up our Chinese food.  Everything was going good. We were laughing around the dinner table, enjoying a good meal, sharing memories about past Christmas’s with my father–handling it quite well.

With dinner done, we retired to the great room and began to open presents. First Zeb and Grace, then Hubby and I and then finally it would be Mom’s turn. Zeb and Grace finished their gifts, as did Hubby, but I was slowly unwrapping mine, feeling not quite myself. My head was hurting me, my chest was aching, and I was having a hard time breathing. Still, I pushed forward, thinking this was just because of the pending let down that almost always follows a holiday.

At 6:12 p.m. (I know this because Grace noted the time, knowing from her CPR classes this would be important) I opened a 12″ cast iron fry pan. Without commenting on the pan I asked Zeb to bring me some water. My mom turned and asked me if I was okay. I said, “No,” and grabbed my chest.

Hubby who was sitting next to me with his feet up, shot up, as did Grace who was sitting on the floor. In unison they asked, “What’s wrong?”

I told them my chest really hurt me. Then as I was talking I couldn’t catch my breath. Grace asked if my arms hurt. I told them my neck and jaw and ears were throbbing and hurt terribly. Hubby ran to the entrance yelling behind him, “We’ve got to go.” My mother wanted to call 911, but Hubby knew he could get me to the hospital quicker. He grabbed my coat, put on his shoes, and he and Grace got me to the car. By this time the pain was so intense in my chest, I thought it was going to burst.

It took 14 minutes to get to the hospital and the entire time I was hunched over in agonizing pain. At one point I really slouched, and Hubby told me later that he thought at that moment — That’s it! She’s gone. I heard him yell my name, and I lifted up slightly. I really couldn’t focus on anything. Everything was a blur.  Hubby tore into the Emergency entrance and Grace got a wheelchair. They pulled me from the car into the wheelchair and Grace ran as fast as she could while pushing the wheelchair into Emergency.

For the next seven hours I had three EKG’s, a CT scan, x-rays, blood drawn, and after nearly an hour and a half of sitting in the hallway they finally gave me a nitroglycerin pill and some baby aspirin. At about the hour mark, the pain lessened. On a scale from 1-10, 10 being the pain I felt while at my mom’s, I’d say it was a 7.

So what was it? Was it a heart attack? Was it just chest spasms? Food poisoning?

The unofficial diagnosis was Broken Heart Syndrome or a stress-induced cardiomyopathy. A heart attack in every way, other than there is far less likelihood of permanent damage to the heart and I have no blockages to my heart or in my arteries. A portion of the heart stops working brought on by stress and grief and the heart becomes inflammed and surrounded by liquid.

What a way to celebrate Christmas! Hubby tried to make light of my dismay later by telling me, “This will definitely be one Christmas we never forget.”

What now? Well, against doctor’s orders I checked myself out of the hospital at 1:30 Christmas morning. They wanted to keep me to do more tests, give me drugs for a heart attack, and basically treat me as if I’d had a heart attack with all the whistles and bells. I am not a doctor person. I do not like hospitals or trust that they are there to do much more than pad the bill for as much as they can. I’ve had too many bad experiences with both doctors and hospitals to take a risk like trusting them.

Hubby got me home. I laid on the couch with Zeb until he calmed down while Hubby sat on the computer scouring the internet for as much information as he could find on Broken Heart Syndrome, heart attacks, treatment, side affects, and risks for death, repeat attacks, and permanent damage. Knowledge is power.

Needless to say, Hubby got no sleep that night. I was so exhausted from the pain and emotional toll everything had taken on me that I did fall asleep but not before sobbing for fear of never waking up.  Hubby sat right next to me all night checking to make sure I was still breathing continually.

Obviously Christmas day there is no way to see a cardiologist (not even if I’d stayed in the hospital could they guarantee that one would actually come see me), so the day after Hubby called and talked to one in our area. He told them everything we had gone through, read the diagnosis from the doctor, and gave them as much information as he could. They scheduled an appointment for me for the 14th of January. I guess it’s not as serious as one might believe.

On the 14th I’ll go and have new tests done to get a completely unbiased opinion and take it from there. Hubby, Grace, and my mom have me on the couch until such time as they deem me better. I cannot eat much, as when I do my chest hurts. My chest is very sore and walking short distances winds me and makes my chest hurt more. I’ve rinsed a few dishes, but have little strength.

Our research tells us that it will take between 1 and 6 weeks for me to recover, but it could be a lot longer if by some rare chance there was damage to the heart. Hubby has made it clear that my days of consoling my mom and Zeb are over and it is time for me to concentrate on myself. My mom has not so much as mentioned my father since she’s had me to take care of.

I had a heart attack. Not for the typical reason (heart blockages) but real nonetheless. Broken heart syndrome can kill you, can happen again, and could increase my risk for a more traditional heart attack. I had my heart attack on Christmas Eve, the day more heart attacks happen than any other. My father’s death took more of a toll on me than I thought — it literally broke my heart. Now I am concentrating on building myself back up with meditation, calming exercises, laughter, rest, family support, essential oils, and love — no drugs. I feel really stupid for allowing this to happen. I keep thinking I should have handled this a whole lot differently. Well, duh! Hindsight is always 20/20.

As I sit here on the couch, listening to Hubby putz around in the kitchen and Zeb vacuuming the dining room, I can’t help but feel far more than Simply Grateful for this second chance. Stress and grief can literally cause heart attacks that induce blockages to the heart and kill you. Broken heart syndrome is bad, but this could have been so much worse. I cannot shut off the grief over my father’s death, but I know he would not want me to ruin or lose my life over it. If nothing else, to honor him and his memory I am going to do whatever it takes to get through this set back. Hubby’s favorite saying is, “When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.” Nothing about this will be lost on me. This was my A Christmas Carol without the ghosts and for this I am Simply Grateful. ~ Tilly

Nothings Ever New — It’s All Been Done Before

Fifteen months ago my family received a devastating blow when we learned that my father had stage 2B pancreatic cancer. He was 74 at the time, in seemingly good health, and had been working on losing weight by living a healthier life style for about six months prior to his diagnosis (adding insult to injury).

Being an avid journaler you’d think I’d have written volumes on my feelings, thoughts, concerns, etc. but the fact is I haven’t written anything. I haven’t been able to separate myself enough to put pen to page in anything more than an angry outburst or two. For a year I watched as my father went through surgery, chemo, radiation, and physical therapy and slowly saw my once vibrant, robust dad become a weak, frail, empty shell of who he used to be. Heart-wrenching doesn’t begin to convey the emotional toll it took on the family.

In January of 2017 my father weighed 230 pounds. In April when he was diagnosed he was around 200. Today he is barely 160 and continues to lose weight. He is 5’10” and was never thin. Even as a boy he was considered chubby, but never really fat. He carried his weight well. I can’t say that now. In fact to see him from the back or the neck down, I doubt anyone who knows him would even recognize him.

We knew with the diagnosis that the prognosis was not good. Five years tops was what we were told. Of course, who believes that. Hope takes over and no matter what your head tells you, your heart won’t believe that “my father is going to die from this.” No matter how weak he’s become, no matter how much weight he’s lost, I still kept telling myself, “This can’t be happening. Not to my family.”

This afternoon around 2 p.m. my mother knocked on my front door. I knew immediately this was not going to be good. As I walked to the door, I took a deep breath, telling myself to calm down and be strong. My mother couldn’t look at me but just said, “I wanted to make sure you were home. I’ll get your dad.”

She walked to the car and helped my father out of the car. He nearly fell when he stood up, his legs not strong enough to hold him up. My mother grabbed him, steadied him, and led him to the door. I helped him up the stairs, gave him a hug, and out of habit asked, “How ya doing Dad?”

“Pretty terrible.” he said without looking at me and went into the house.

My mother followed him, without looking at me and told him to sit in the chair in the great room. She sat on one couch, and I sat on the other.

Once we were all seated my mother looked at me for the first time and said, “We don’t have good news.”

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but told myself I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t break down and make this harder on them. I had to be strong. I did everything I could to push the tears deep inside me.

“We had the appointment with the oncologist this morning, as you know, and the news isn’t good. Your father has seven large tumors consuming his liver. He has three options, but no matter what he decides to do, the doctor said he doesn’t have more than 6 months.”

At this point I went numb. My mother continued talking about the scans that were done, the test results they received, the options of heavy-duty chemo that wouldn’t buy him more time but would make him sicker while hopefully stopping the cancer from spreading or clinical trials or doing nothing. I sat there, I think asking questions at appropriate times, I don’t really remember. All I remember is glancing at my father in the chair and watching as he stared bravely straight ahead, emotionless.

When my mother was done going over everything the doctors had done and said, I turned to my father and asked, “So what do you think you want to do Dad?”

He cleared his throat and said, “I’m not sure but I don’t think I want to be sick for the remainder of what time I have left.”

I then asked more specific questions about the chemo and what it would do to him and about the clinical trials. My mother explained how the chemo would make him lose his hair, lose more weight, make him even more tired than he already was, and make him sick. It wouldn’t buy any time. As for the clinical trials, well those needed to be checked into to see if he qualified for the type of cancer he had but were only an option if he did the chemo. Again, the trials probably would not buy him any time.

I didn’t know what to say. My mother picked up on my silence and offered that my father was very concerned about all of us. That he wasn’t upset with the prognosis for himself, but rather for how those he was leaving behind would be affected. At that my father said, “I haven’t been that great a father, but I know this is going to be difficult.”

At that the tears could no longer be contained. I told him that he was a great father and there were so many wonderful years that we had together that not having him around … well would be unbearable.

All the while this was taking place, all I kept thinking was: I’m not the first person who’s been told that their father is dying. I won’t be the first daughter to lose her father. My mother won’t be the first woman to lost her husband. My children won’t be the first grandchildren to lose their grandfather. My father isn’t the first man to be diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. This has all been done before. So why does it feel so utterly horrible? Why can’t I come to terms with this? Why do I feel like I’m the first person to go through this? That my pain is so much worse than anyone elses? That this is far too much pain for anyone to bear?

Hubby wasn’t home when my parents were over, he came home about 30 minutes after they had left. There was nothing he could say. What could he say to make me feel better? Nothing. I sat on the couch the rest of the day, staring out the window. Hubby checked on me periodically, trying to find words, but there were none. The one thing that he said was he didn’t know which was worse–losing someone quick and unexpected or watching someone die over a period of time. Of course I think watching someone dwindle away is worse, but that’s probably because that’s what we are going to have to do for the next several months now.

I have always found it interesting that everyone always feels that what they are experiencing is either better or worse than what everyone else has experienced. The pain and suffering one endures from injury or sickness, is worse than any anyone has ever faced. But in reality, is it?

I know what I’m going through is not unique. Thousands of people die every year from cancer. Thousands of families go through the pain and anguish of losing someone they love. Thousands of lives are changed forever more, never to be the same again with the death of someone close to them. Honestly though, this is no consolation. This pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Losing my grandparents was very hard, losing pets seemed almost unbearable, losing friends was sad and painful, but my father…I have loved him for 50 years and I can’t imagine going into my 51st without him.

At the moment I am finding it hard to find anything to be “Simply Grateful” for, but one thing I will be FOREVER GRATEFUL for is my father and all the years we have had together, good and bad. I hope I can find the strength to make the most of the time we have left.

Tilly’s Law of the Multiplying Multiplicity of Leftovers

My goal for the past year has been to throw out less leftovers. Waste not, want not – that is the saying, isn’t it? For some reason though, no matter how hard I try or how often I serve leftovers in one form or other, at the end of every week there are more glass bowls filled with leftovers lining the shelves of the fridge than I started with.

Don’t over simplify this and suggest I just make less initial food so there wouldn’t be any leftovers in the first place. That isn’t an option. Grace takes them to work, Zeb takes them to school, and I do get some really great ‘Leftover Makeover’ concoctions that in some cases turn out better than what I first started with. So less is not the point. The point is the quantity of leftovers in my fridge increase the more I use them.

Now I am the first person to take responsibility when I do something wrong, or at least I try. But, I don’t believe I should take all the blame for this. I’m not certain and I certainly wouldn’t quote me on this, but I do believe there is some sort of “Law” out there about the Multiplying Multiplicity of Leftovers. But if for some strange reason this hasn’t been discussed/discovered yet, I am right now taking claim to it – Tilly’s Law of the Multiplying Multiplicity of Leftovers.

Tilly’s Law of the Multiplying Multiplicity of Leftovers states that the harder you try to get rid of leftovers–the more effort you put into using up what at first try didn’t get eaten, the more leftovers you will accumulate until eventually they spoil and end up being thrown out, thus canceling out any intentions of the initial goal to get rid of your leftovers before they spoil.

I know, I know! You are probably wondering how I ever came up with such a thing. After all, correct me if I’m wrong…isn’t the point of cooking with leftovers, to “eliminate” the leftovers – not to make more?

That’s what I thought! I knew I couldn’t have been wrong all these years, but then again I admit that 9 out of 10 times when I cook with leftovers, I end up making even more leftovers. This obviously doesn’t happen when I “reheat” leftovers and serve them in their original form. No, then, and pretty much only then, I truly do either eliminate or at the very least make a dent in them. The trouble starts when I use leftovers in a “makeover” dish. This is when I find myself adding to the ever growing stacks of glass storage dishes layered one on top of another as high as the eye can see on every shelf of the fridge.

Let me share with you my latest example.

Thursday I made corned beef with boiled potatoes and fried cabbage for dinner. At the end of the meal I had three bowls to go in the fridge. One bowl with the extra corned beef, one bowl with the leftover potatoes, and a small bowl of fried cabbage. Plus I had half a head of cabbage still in the fridge that I didn’t use for dinner.

Friday I decided to try to use up the corned beef in a new meal. I made Chicken Reuben Roll-ups with Mornay Sauce. Plus I used the leftover boiled potatoes and made a Mashed Potato Casserole. Perfect, I could use up two of the leftovers in one shot. Well, things didn’t work out quite as I planned.

At the end of the meal we had leftover Chicken Reuben Roll-ups, Mornay Sauce, and Mashed Potato Casserole – three new bowls. Two bowls came out of the fridge, three bowls went back in. I was already losing ground.

Oh, and just when I think it can’t possibly get any worse, it does. Many a time when I use leftovers to make a new meal (a ‘makeover’), I don’t even use up all the old leftovers in the process. This leaves me with not only all the new glass storage dishes to hold the makeover leftovers, but also all the old ones holding the original leftovers. Albeit some of the old leftover dishes are possibly half empty or may have been transferred to smaller dishes, but that doesn’t change the fact that there are more leftovers now than there were in the first place.

So, back to my Chicken Reuben Roll-up makeover meal. In the process of making the Chicken Reuben Roll-ups, I didn’t use up all the corned beef so there was still that dish. Oh, and although I did use up all the boiled potatoes in the Mashed Potato Casserole, the casserole called for 6 slices of cooked bacon. I couldn’t very well just fry up 6 slices, so a pound of bacon got cooked and crumbled and what didn’t go into the casserole, went into another glass bowl.

So, I started out with 2 glass bowls coming out of the fridge to use up, and put five back in. It’s no wonder there’s never any space in the fridge and this does justify why Hubby can never find anything in there either (and here I just thought that was a man thing – don’t tell him that though, I’d never live it down).

But, not to be discouraged, today I decided to use up the remaining corned beef and the rest of the cabbage in Corned Beef and Coleslaw Sandwiches. At the end of the meal there was one sandwich left and some coleslaw. Two bowls came out, two bowls went back in. Okay, no gain, but then again no loss either.

Now, there aren’t enough leftovers for a meal for the four of us, so guess what? That’s right, tomorrow I’m making something new. Sure Grace will take some of the leftovers on Monday to work and Zeb might be persuaded to take some to school, but that will just make the leftovers even smaller, thus not enough for a meal for three, then not enough for two, then Everyone Will Be Sick Of Eating Them And They Will Get Pushed To The Back Of The Fridge Until Weeks From Now I GET SO FRUSTRATED WITH HAVING NO SPACE TO PUT ANY LEFTOVERS THAT I TEAR EVERYTHING OUT OF THE FRIDGE AND FIND THEM ALL MOLDY AND GROSS AND END UP THROWING THEM DOWN THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL CURSING UNDER MY BREATH THE WHOLE TIME ABOUT ‘WASTE NOT, WANT NOT!’

Whew! Well, I feel better. Sure I didn’t really solve anything here today, but at least now I can blame it all on Tilly’s Law of the Multiplying Multiplicity of Leftovers and perhaps come to accept that some things are just never going to change. And hey, I got five great new recipes out of my corned beef and boiled potato makeovers, it doesn’t get much better than that. And for this I am – Simply Grateful.

The List – One More Thing to Check Off

It’s been a long time since my last post. Life happens and I have somewhat come to accept this although I do miss blogging terribly and have hopes of someday once again making it part of my life.

Blogging was a huge benefit to me for several years while in between hobbies/interests and when Hubby was still more of an anomaly at home rather than a staple. Looking back it is funny to see how I filled the gap of him being gone so much. There were odd jobs, volunteer opportunities, activities and clubs with the kids, crafts, and most recently my blog, gardening, cooking, and canning. Although I still cook and can and still have a garden (although for some reason it doesn’t seem all that important anymore), the blogging just as all the other “fillers” that either faded into nonexistence or were put on the back burner until I can get back to them, ceased.

Honestly I can’t say I don’t have time to blog, because although Hubby is home pretty much 24/7, he does his own thing a good portion of that time. My time management priorities, however, have not yet recovered from the transition of him being so present in my every day life. That plus having moved on to other goals on my “list”…you know the one, the list that everyone has, either written or mentally filed deep in our brains, of those things we want to experience or try. Some might call it a bucket list, but for me it’s not so dramatic. My list is just a compilation of things I’d like to learn or do at some point during this life, and if not during this one, perhaps in the next. Blogging was on that list, and although that is something that could (should?) be on going, having moved on to new challenges keeps the hours in my day pretty full. So until congress finally passes the bill changing the hours in a day from 24 to say 36 or more, I think I’m doomed to just go with the flow and enjoy the ride.

So you’re probably wondering why I’m even making a post. Well, the one thing I truly miss about blogging, that I have yet to find any sort of comparable replacement, is the support I received from other bloggers and readers. I didn’t “live” for likes or comments, but when I did get them, they sure helped to justify what I was doing or sharing. Yet, even when a post would go by without a single comment or like, just having it out there and knowing others might be reading it, gave me a sense of completion. Does that sound sad? Throwing something out there on the world wide web to help cement my own purpose? I hope not. I don’t consider myself necessarily a needy person, constantly in need of affirmation for every little thing I do. I am human though and even though Hubby and the kids are extremely supportive and encouraging, sometimes I need to go beyond the security of my home and risk putting it all on the line for the world to see – on the internet.

What I wanted to share today were some photos of one of the things I’ve been working on for about 6 months now that had been on my “list” for many years – decorated sugar cookies. Nothing truly spectacular or life-changing, but something that I wanted to learn how to do and do to the best of my ability. What a ride this has been. I am having so much fun baking and decorating cookies and candies and now might even delve into the world of fondant covered cakes. There were so many techniques and tricks I had no idea were out there, and I can’t wait to try them all. My biggest problem now is finding a home for everything I make. Hubby is completely supportive of me sitting at the table working for hours on cookies, making them beautiful, but always asks “so who are those for?” Who indeed? The family can only eat so many sugar cookies before they get tired of them and I only have so many people to give them to. Yet, I keep going.

Valentine’s Day was a perfect opportunity to make cookies and surprisingly I did manage to give them all away without a single complaint from any recipients. Christmas too was no problem, as was Halloween. So what’s next? The one aspect of sugar cookies that does make sharing them with the same people over and over again possible is being able to make variations on flavors. Halloween and Christmas last year I was still just getting used to the basics, but with Valentine’s Day I moved on to a chocolate sugar cookie with strawberry flavored royal icing as well as dabbling in fondant. With the variations available in flavorings, I might just be able to pull off giving cookies away to my family and neighbors for at least a few more months. After that maybe I’ll move on to cakes.

So here are some pictures of the Halloween, Fall, Christmas, and Valentine’s Day cookies I’ve made so far. They took a long time to make, but I think the time was worth it. Perhaps I’ll get a chance to make some posts with recipes, etc. on Simple Grateful Cooking someday.

Thanks for stopping by ~ A Simply Grateful Tilly.

Halloween Cookies:

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Fall Cookies:

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Christmas Cookies:

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Valentine’s Cookies:

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High Hopes for a Fruitful Summer

Our plum tree has blossomed and if every flower turns into a plum — well, let’s just say I’ll be happier than Little Jack Horner!

Tiny little bees were buzzing around the tree all day yesterday, pollinating away. Keeping my fingers crossed that the unpredictable Michigan weather doesn’t blast us one last time with winter’s rage.

For now, enjoying the beauty of spring, and for this I am — Simply Grateful.

 

Gotta Love Michigan Weather!

Last week we had some gorgeous early spring teaser weather with temperatures in the low 70’s and mid-60’s. Even earlier this week it was still in the upper 50’s, close to 60. Still, I knew it wouldn’t last — thus my first garden projects of 2017 (check out my latest posts at Simply Grateful Gardener):

Lean-To Greenhouse

Free-Standing Greenhouse Frame

This morning as I was making breakfast I could hear the rain pelting against the windows and yet thought it was a bit too loud for just rain. Sure enough, it was snow mixed with ice. Nice! The pictures of it falling don’t show the snow very well, but the accumulating slush on my garden gloves, our fire pit cover, and my greenhouse lean-to are testament to the fact that Michigan weather is definitely fickle.

Blurred snow coming down with a vengeance.

Good thing I remembered to put my garden gloves away! At least maybe the snow will help wash some of the dirt off them.

Snow collecting on the greenhouse lean-to.

No worries — With my first two garden projects behind me, the early planting in the gardens is safe and warm. There was a good amount of humidity in both enclosures yesterday and the temps are supposed to rise into the 60’s again this weekend, so things are looking up. Just in time for another garden project, and for this I am — Simply Grateful.

She’s Not A Bird Dog — She’s A Bird Monitor!

One of my favorite things about spring is filling the bird feeders. I know that it would probably make more sense to fill the bird feeders during winter when the birds are far less likely to have an abundance of food, but for selfish reasons I typically only feed them in the spring.

Spring is when I have time to sit and enjoy watching the birds at the feeder. There are feeders set up along the back of our house so that no matter where I’m sitting, whether it’s in the kitchen nook, the dining room, or at my desk in the great room, I have a view of a bird feeder. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly the birds find the feeders even after months of them being empty. It takes less than an hour before the first sparrow visits.

Besides myself enjoying all the activity at the bird feeders, Bell enjoys it just as much. She will sit at the back door staring at the birds flying from feeder to feeder for hours. If it’s warm enough and I put her cushion out on the chair, she will sit there even longer.

One thing about Bell though, she is not a bird dog…she is a bird monitor. She lets me know when there are birds at the feeders, but has never tried to catch them. Just by the position of her ears, she tells me when there are or aren’t birds at the feeder.

If her ears are down, this means there aren’t any visitors. But when her ears go half way up, ahhh, then you know there’s activity.

Ears are getting perky – definitely activity at the bird feeder.

Bell has never chased any of the birds in our yard. In fact she’ll walk by the bird feeder and quite often the birds won’t even leave. She will walk within two feet of them, and they just keep on feeding.

When I fill the feeders, birds are not the only visitors we receive. Unfortunately there is an abundance of squirrels in our neighborhood and the minute those feeders are filled, the squirrels are determined to get their share. To their utter disappointment, however, Bell will have none of that. You see, as much as Bell is a bird monitor, she is even more so of a squirrel evictor.

When her ears perk up as high as her ears perk

and she stands on her hind legs to look out the door

This is when you know a squirrel is nearby. She runs to the sliding door and chases those squirrels out of our yard.

This goes on all day long. I have seen as many as three squirrels at one time in our little plum tree trying to get into the bird feeder, but the minute Bell bounds out the door, they scatter. Bell especially likes it when she traps a squirrel in the tree. She will pace around the tree, run up and down the patio, and try her hardest to climb up the tree trunk for however long it takes that squirrel to get up enough nerve to bolt out of the tree and over into the security of our neighbors fenced-in yard. One morning Hubby and I watched her happily keep a squirrel captive in the tree for 45 minutes before she finally walked far enough away from the tree for the squirrel to make its escape. She certainly slept good that afternoon.

This squirrel escaped to our neighbors roof and sat there growling at Bell for the longest…

Bell definitely has a job! She doesn’t bother the birds, but is sure to chase away those pesky squirrels. The fact that she’s a bird monitor rather than a bird dog is something I am truly – Simply Grateful for!

All clear – Just Bell and the birds!

Blogging Secretary Update

It has been one week since I started using the voice recognition software on my computer to make blog posts and it’s been an interesting week. I’ve learned a lot about using the software, the glitches involved, and even more about myself.

First I’ve learned I can really talk a lot about nothing! The first time I turned on the voice recognition software and started dictating a blog post, within 30 minutes I had four type-written pages of dictation. This transformed into the beginnings of four separate blog posts and I wasn’t even close to being done. I continued to talk as I made dinner and by the time dinner was served, I had the makings for nearly six more blog posts. So far this first round of dictation has resulted in three posts directly from the dictation and three additional posts dictated based on the posts I had done. And I still have dictation to review and edit. Yet, based on what I actually dictated, there should have been enough to fill 20 blog posts. Instead there was a ton of garbage. Boy I have a lot of hot air in me!

Next I’d have to say that dictating is hard. It’s not like you’re addressing an individual or anything like that. You’re basically talking to yourself. Because of that, there seems to be a lot of times when what I’m saying is choppy and not very clear. This can be resolved in the editing process but so often while I’m dictating it’s difficult to know what to say out loud. It’s amazing how much easier it is to think what I want to say than to actually say it out loud.

Further, I’ve learned that talking into the computer is one thing, but making what you have said readable is something totally different. When I put blog posts together in my mind everything seems so cut and dry and perfect. When I started dictating it felt like I had to force the words out and a lot of times I just stammered or stuttered. Even though I thought I had everything clear in my head as to what I wanted to say, I just couldn’t spit it out in a way that was pretty. Plus I’ve noticed I use a lot of words when I’m talking that I would never use when I’m writing. So talking and writing are very different animals.

I’ve also learned that when I do finally get the juices flowing and get on a dictation roll, I need to be sure to stay focused on the subject I want to dictate about. A lot of times I find I go off on a tangent and all of that just ends up getting deleted in the long run. Plus, occasionally the voice recognition software shuts off for no apparent reason. And this must be one of those “Murphy’s Laws,” but it only seems to shut off when I finally get back to talking about what I should be talking about not all the jibber-jabber that ends up deleted. There are definitely glitches to be worked out but it is still a workable endeavor.

Finally, I’ve learned that dictating a recipe isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I thought I could just list off the ingredients and then dictate the step by step, but the dictation software that I’m using doesn’t put in bullets or number formatting. Knowing this just means I read the list of ingredients needed in paragraph form and then copy and paste it into my recipe template. Still, in a perfect world the software would be able to do this. I know that there are softwares out that have this option, but they cost money. The one I’m using is free, so I really have no right to complain.

Overall I’d have to say this has been a very good experience and it is something I plan to continue to do. I have decided however I do not like doing it when Hubby is around. He can be rather infuriating with his interruptions and making fun of me talking to myself, but I know it’s just because he’s trying to get a little attention. Actually this is probably a good sign. It proves he’s not sick of me yet. Spending 24/7 together for the past year has been wonderful, although challenging at times. The fact that when I finally take a few minutes to do something solely for “me” and he feels a bit insecure and displays this through his actions, well, I think I can cut him a little slack.

So if you’d like to check out my posts that I made last week and today, head on over to Simply Grateful Cooking and check out my recent posts or simply click on the links that I provided below.

• Kitchen Essential or Luxury?
• Ultimate Philly Steak & Cheese Hoagies
• Beef Stroganoff Using Shaved Beef
• Shaved Beef Fajitas
• Loose Pepperoni Pizza Burgers
• Personal Portobello Pizzas
• Chicken Pizzaiola

As much as I like the speech recognition software, I do have to say I really wish they would come out with something for “thought recognition.” Because although I use the voice recognition while I’m cooking which was one of the times I found myself thinking about making blog posts but was too busy to do them, I can’t use this during the only other spare time I have – while showering in the morning. I don’t think they have a headset and computer that’s waterproof, so for now it’s going to have to be while I’m cooking or if I can find a spare moment when hubby has left the house.

At any rate it’s just another challenge and hopefully this new trick of the trade will enable me to get back to blogging more and for this I am – Simply Grateful.

A Secretary for Blogging

One of the reasons that my blogging has been so sporadic and pretty much non-existent for at least the past six months is that I can’t find the time to sit down and type them up. I’ve taken pictures of tons of things that I’ve wanted to do blog post on, I’ve kept lists of what I wanted to do blog post on, and I have all of the recipes organized for blog posts that I want to do, still there have been so few blog posts that I dare say I can’t even call myself a blogger any longer.

At today’s date, I have more than 300 new recipes that I have pictures of and have tested that I want to do blog posts on that I have yet to do any work on other than organizing it. It is frustrating that I want to do all of these things and yet each week I continue to work on new recipes thus digging myself further and further into a hole. For months now I have complained, “I need a secretary!”

Well I don’t really think the “secretary” thing is going to happen, being a stay-at-home mom/wife and all. It’s hard to believe I’d ever be able to afford such a luxury. However, the thought prevails.

A few nights ago, as I sat stewing because I wasn’t blogging as I sat exhausted on the couch after another day in the homemaking trenches, I began to wonder where in my busy day could I possibly fit blogging. The only time I could come up with was while I’m in the kitchen cooking. Honestly, that’s when I’m thinking about doing blog posts anyhow. That’s when I write out blog posts in my head. So what if there were some way I could actually put my thoughts down somehow while I was cooking. If I could do this, then maybe I could actually get some blog posts done.

These thoughts brought to mind a software I used to use for journaling. Hubby bought me a software called Dragon. It was a voice recognition software. I used it for years and I enjoyed the freedom it gave me, but when my computer crashed and because I had not printed off my journaling or backed up my computer, and therefore lost months worth of journaling, I was completely devastated and stop journaling on the computer and using my Dragon.

That was several years and several computers ago. When I pulled out my Dragon software to see if I could install it on my new computers, I found my current operating systems didn’t work with it and to buy it again would cost around $75. Now that’s not a huge sum, but at the same time I can’t really justify buying voice recognition software just so I can blog. Hubby would definitely support it, but I would feel guilty.

Looking for another option I went online, did some research, and found a few options for free voice recognition software. One was already installed on my computer from Windows. I tried the program, but it was awful. It didn’t recognize the majority of what I said and it didn’t follow commands. It was very basic and not worth the effort.

The second option was through Google Chrome. Since I use Chrome on my computer all I had to do was open a Google Doc, hit the mic button and start talking. It worked far better than the Windows voice recognition software. As I explored Google Docs, I found there were add-ons that could be used to improve various aspects of the Google program. There I found another speech recognition program to add on to the Google Docs that was free. I installed it ,opened it up, and started talking.

Viola! It was like night and day. Everything I said, it typed. There was no punctuation, but for now I’m not concerned. I figure once I get everything down on paper all I have to do is go back and put in punctuation, paragraphs where I want them, and I’m done. I really hope this works. Although it’s only been one day since I began using Google Docs and the Google speech recognition, already I have four blog posts ready for editing. Even this little blurb was dictated into my headset and it took about 30 minutes to edit.

I’m not really sure how this is going to turn out but the more I use the software, the easier it should get. If this does turn out the way I’m really hoping it does, and I’m really really really hoping it does, this could mean I come back to blogging and it could mean getting back to journaling. It’s amazing how having Hubby home 24/7 takes up so much of my time. It seems like half of the day is spent just with him and I don’t even know what we’re doing but it takes time. I’m not complaining though. I have missed him for far too long, so I’m not going to look this gift horse in the mouth. But if I can utilize the time spent just standing around, cooking by myself and simply just talk my posts into the computer, this could be the beginning of something great.

The wonder of technology! I’ve often thought technology is a scourge on society, at least in some circumstances; now I’m not so sure, at least not in this particular instance, and for this I am – Simply Grateful.

 

Awesome One-Pot Side Dish

Surprise! Surprise! It’s only been 10 days since my last post — actually it was only 9 if you count the post I did yesterday on Simply Grateful Cooking.

Yesterday after months of Grace bugging me for a recipe that one of her bosses wanted for a noodle side dish I began making last summer, I decided to type it up. Of course, this being a new recipe and one I definitely wanted to share, I thought I’d actually do it right and make a post about the recipe as well. So while Hubby was tutoring online for a few hours, I cleared off my desk and wrote a post for Simply Grateful Cooking.

Once the post was done and the recipe printed off for Grace’s boss, I couldn’t help myself, I just had to head to the kitchen to make it. While I was working, Hubby came out to see what I was doing. I told him I was making dinner. As usual he asked me what I was making.

Now you have to realize that Hubby loves to yank my chain. Every time he asks me what I’m making for dinner, he already knows how he is going to react, and so do I. He will give me a disinterested nod of his head and shrug saying, “Yeah, that sounds great” only saying it in his most sarcastic, disapproving voice. It’s a game he seems to enjoy and for the most part it doesn’t bother me. There are some days though that he catches me in a bad mood and I bark at him for his seemingly harsh judgement, even when I know deep down he’s teasing me. Not my best moments, but hey — I’m only human!

Anyway, yesterday when I told him we were having fish, he gave me his usual “That sounds great” response. Then as an after thought as he was walking out of the kitchen he turned and asked, “What are we having with it?”

“Herbed Garlic Parmesan Pasta.” I told him

With a slight trill in his voice he said, “Really! Great!” Now I’m not positive, but I think I saw him skip out of the kitchen with glee. Maybe not, but his excitement was palpable.

I guess there are some things I make that even he can’t fake disinterest in or contain himself. It’s probably one of the families favorites and with good reason. Herbs, noodles, Parmesan cheese, and mushrooms…it doesn’t get much better than that.

If you’d like to try a great one-pot side dish that is sure to please, check out my post at Simply Grateful Cooking, Herbed Garlic Parmesan Pasta. It’s one side that I always make far more than we’ll eat in one sitting because the leftovers are as popular as when I serve it with dinner, and for this I am — Simply Grateful.