Did you hear the one about.....

....the person who drug herself out of the house in the middle of the night to pick up a prescription at a Walgreen's only to find out the pharmacy was robbed less than three hours later? I did. It was my mom!

My dad had rotator cuff surgery last Friday. We kind of joke about how much he enjoys MMP's. (minor medical procedures) Well, maybe not that he enjoys them, but he is so darn willing to march himself to the Dr. to fix whatever is wrong. To me, the Dr. is the last possible choice after you've exhausted all other possibilities. If I were to accidentally sever my foot I'd try to fix it by tape, bandaid, tourniquet, super glue, rest, neosporin and vitamins. As a last ditch effort I'd consult a friend to see if they have any ideas or if I have to go to the Dr. Even then I'd carefully weigh the pros and cons of not going. Not my Dad. He'd go straight there.

His latest adventure isn't so minor. Rotator cuff surgery isn't a walk in the park, but he came through with flying colors. It also means mom gets to be his nurse once he gets home. The patient-nurse routine is a well rehearsed act. I'm not sure who wins. It usually ends in a draw. Last time dad had the flu he called my mom, who was downstairs, on her cell phone to request some sherbet. He thought it was a clever way to get some sustenance. She didn't.

On night 2-post op dad's pain meds weren't working so well, so mom called the Dr. to get a new scrip. It was called in to Walgreen's, and mom went at 3:00 AM to get it filled. The Dr. never called it in and mom went home empty handed. It wasn't until later that she heard on the news that the pharmacy was robbed a couple hours later. You just never know how close you are to a "situation". You read about those people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Patient and nurse seem to be doing fine now.

Blogging about blogging.

I'm still new to blogging and the more I figure it out the more I enjoy it. It is a calm, straight forward way to get an interesting glimpse into people. I love reading what people take the time (and are willing) to share. I'm enjoying blogs so much that I clicked on the option above my blog that says "next blog". I'm not entirely sure what the reasoning is behind that option, but when you click it, it takes you to someone else's blog. I do not enjoy random stanger blogs as much as I enjoy my friends blogs, but I still like seeing what others do with their blogs.

One thing strikes me as interesting though. I run across a lot of blogs that are very, very similar. So similar that I find myself nick naming and categorizing them. Here's a few:

The, Do you know my friend Jesus? blog. This one is usually a person from somewhere in the Biblebelt. Sometimes for the purpose of using their blog to evangelize. Sometimes just to talk about their walk with Christ. They all love their church and churchlike activities.

The, My children are my trophies, blog. This one has every square inch covered in unbeleiveably expensive looking professional photographs of their children and/or family. Sometimes the family pet gets in the action. I love children. Not having any official ones of my own hasn't stopped me from attaching myself to my sister's kids. Ask me about them and I could go on and on forever. I get the idea of loving a little person so much it hurts, but these blogs go beyond just normal love for one's kids. These people worship their kids.

The, My eternal children are my trophies, blog. Same as above, but the author is Mormon. The blog goes on in the same manner that others do, but here and there will be slipped in the phrase "my eternal family". There is also a weddig pic somewhere on the side with the beaming couple posed in front of the temple in Salt Lake City.

The, I'm on a journey, blog. This one is people who've set up a blog to chronicle a specific set of events. Travel, preparing for a wedding, traning for a marathon. I love these. Biographies are my favorite types of books to read. Blogs can become little mini biographies to read. One of the most interesting I read was a family who adopted a newborn and was approaching the one year mark where the mother can no longer change her mind and the baby was going to be officially theirs. I saw the last few posts that were counting down the hours until they could relax their tightly wound hearts. They even found out that due to daylight savings time, they had one extra hour to wait then they originally planned on. I've often wondered how in the world adoptive parents can dare to bond with a child knowing that the birth mom has a year to change her mind. It also made me wonder what the birth mom was thinking and feeling. What her blog would have contained if she chose to blog about her approach to the "no going back" mark?

The, knitter, crafter, artist, scrapbooker, blog. When I stumble on these I'm in heaven. All sorts of examples of people driven by the need to create. Good, bad, or somewhere in between I love to see what others come up with.

The, I'm naming my blog something other than what it is about blog. These usually have a name like "the extreme adventures my very unsual and unique life". When you read the blog it turns out that the person is a middle class white person in the mid west, who has a 9-5 job and likes to eat at Dairy Queen and take my dog for walks. Nothing wrong with that, but an opposite lifestyle then what they named their blog.

The, I'll be right back post. This isn't a blog, per se, but I see a lot of blogs where the last post goes something like this "Hi! I've been soooooooo busy lately!!!! This is just a quick post to say I've been busy and I'll get back to regular posting soon!" The date on the be right back post is usually 1-3 months ago.

My very favorite blog is one where the person doing the blogging simply gives a little glimpse into their thoughts and how they do "life" and what makes them tick. People are interesting.

Just in case.

I've had a roommate now for a couple weeks, and I'm still in the process of finding a new home for the items that have been displaced. It is funny how when you have the space, you hold on to items that have no business being in your house. This is prompting a much MUCH overdue weeding and thinning of "stuff".

I've come across a few items that are "just in case". They are ridiculous. I'll share them:



The hiking boots I purchased in the early 90's before my first wilderness trip with the youth group. They went on every youth outing for the next 15 years. The sole on this one is obviously shot. I'm keeping it just in case I run into that perfect opportunity to throw on a pair of PURPLE hiking boots that have one sole missing. I'm yet to run into that event.



A boat load of Christmas trays and bowls. Just in case on any given day in December I attend a party or gathering that requires me to be responsible for 758 cookies and treats. I'm yet to run into that party.




A blender with a spout on the outside, which turns it into a smoothie maker. While my sister was borrowing it the spout broke. She found a new one at a garage sale and purchased it. Of course I have that machine, just in case I ever need to make a smoothie. I kept the base to the first one, just in case I make so many smoothies in the second one, that I burn out the new base. I've made zero smoothies in the past couple years, but it is great to have all that gadgetry on hand, just in case.



A blender, without a spout on the outside, making it a true blender. Kept just in case I ever find myself in need of blending something that isn't a smoothie.




A white toaster that works. I purchased a blue toaster because it matched my kitchen better. Of course since the white one works it had to be held onto just in case the other one stopped working, mid toasting and I couldn't wait until I could run to the store and get another one. So far that event has not occurred, but if it does, I'm covered.



This one is the best. It is a hair dryer that barely works. I bought a new one, but this one had a couple ounces of life left in it. It remains in my possesion just in case I go camping and do not want to take my good one. Of course it makes sense when you are out camping to bring a long a hair dryer that doesn't really work. I guess because you aren't really supposed to care how you look when you go camping.

Sigh. Sometimes you need big glaring examples of things that build slowly over time to clean house--literally and figuratively!!!!

The vacation that would not end.

Everyone has one of these stories. The one where your family is gathered together for some occasion (usually a holiday) and one person gets the flu and then everyone else in the group is just a sitting duck waiting for their turn. Now I have one of those stories.

Wednesday night we finished up our vacation. We went to a favorite restaurant called Pepper Jax, crossed the last thing off our to do in Omaha list, and headed home. We packed, planned, set alarms, tucked the kids in, decided when to leave and headed to bed. Vacation over. Had a great time, see you soon.


Nope.

At about 12:30 it hit me. At about 1:00 it hit Jami. For a while I thought mine was related to low blood sugar. She thought that last piece of cake wasn't settling well in her stomach, but neither realized the other was having a rough night. I'll spare you the details, but at 3:30 I knew it wasn't low blood sugar, and thought it was the flu. We were supposed to leave in about 2 hours. I woke up Jami to tell her there was no way I could travel in 2 hours and she told me she had had the same evening. At that point I was sure it was food poisoning. It hit us both at the same time, and it was really the only place we'd been that day.

We were both too wasted to travel on Thursday and set our sites on Friday. I slept pretty much non stop on Thursday. Friday morning came, and I woke up and went right back to bed until about noon. We toyed with the idea of leaving Friday afternoon and going part way, getting a motel and finishing up on Saturday. I was willing, but with the idea that I could maybe be a passenger, but probably not a driver. We decided just to try again Saturday morning. Good thing, because next was Colby's turn. I had to adjust to the idea that maybe it wasn't as exotic as food poisoning, maybe it was just your garden variety flu bug.

Saturday morning, bright and early we pulled out of Omaha, but not before Dad fell victim at about 4:00 AM. As of this post, Mom and Kate missed the fun.

So, this was a two part vacation. The non-sick part, and the sick part. We rolled into Warsaw around supper time on Saturday, two days overdue. Jami got the kids out long enough to have supper and get the wiggles out and then they got back in and headed to Indy. As terrible as it was at times, we are all thankful that we were never on the road when anyone was sick. If it hit a few hours later we'd have had to pull over and use road side assistance. I wonder if "every driver in the car has the flu and is 10 hours from home" is covered under my plan? Probably not.

"Uh. Oh. They are all crying" OR "Don't see that Hachi the dog movie"

During the "non-sick" part of our trip Jami and Mom left me with the kids while they went shopping. When queried as to whether or not I'd kid-sit I said....sure, as long as they've got something to do. They've got the Hachi movie to watch, she said. It's too sad, I said. Colby picked it, they'll be fine she said. And off they went.

I knew the basic plot, and won't provide any spoilers, but had my doubts as to whether or not the kids would find this enjoyable. I worked on a few things up stairs while the movie was going and was kind of out of things to do, so I came down to see how things were going. I figured it was getting the the part that was sad.

I hear sniffing and snuffling and see Colby wiping his eyes in one chair. Over on the couch little miss Kate is sinking deeper and deeper into the couch, covered in a blanket, hiding amongst pillows, sobbing. I couldn't let her suffer alone, so I wiggled my way into the hiding spot and curled up behind her. Two minutes later I was boo-hooing right a long with them.

The movie hadn't even begun to get to the "sad part" It progressively gets worse for the next 30 minutes or so, and we're all a big quivering mess of tears. As the movie hits its peak Jami and Mom return from shopping. I try to continue with Kate's theory of hiding in the couch. This is what I hear from my hiding spot (from Jami as she comes down the stairs and views the fun).

Hey kids. Kate? What's wrong? Why are you crying, honey? Colby? You're crying, too? Was it a sad movie? (pause. spots me.) Uh, oh....Mom... (shouts up the stairs) they are all down here crying.

Next on the list, will be Old Yeller, and Marley and Me.

Guy Fieri, Jackson Pollack, and Bon Jovi

We started our day at a hole-in-the-wall taco joint. Guy Fieri (of Diner's, Drive ins and Dives) recommended it to us. It is called California Taco and gets its name for the street it is located on. It is up near the school where Dad works, so he rearranged his day to join us for lunch. It isn't a diner or a drive in, so I'm gonna have to go with dive. It was good, but as with all new experiences we didn't really know the menu enough to know what we wanted to order. We all left thinking we'd know what we wanted if we went back. It was good, but I don't think any of us were blown away. This is strange because Guy just gushed over the food while doing the show. Jami's comment was....if this is what he thinks is "really, really great" I wonder what the other restaurants are like. The heat level was low. It was more like American Mexican then true Mexican. The hot sauces wouldn't have even regitered on Andy's scale. I would classify them as mild and more mild.







We then went to the Omaha Art Museum. It is a nice museum if you want to see only a few of each item. The entire Greek and Antiquities section consisted of about 10 or 12 pots and jars. It had room of impressionist paintings. It did a good job of not overwhelming you with too much of anything. The building the art is housed in is more impressive than the art. It is entirely made of pink marble. Floors, walls, steps leading up to the entrance. Everything. Of course I didn't think to get a good pic of that. It also had an impressive program for kids that Jami very patiently did with the kids. The museum had backpacks full of seek and find type activities ready to check out. Small or not, it is hard to stand 12 inches from a Pollack or Degas or Monet and not feel something.








The night ended with most of the people in the house getting ready for bed, while Mom hauled me down to the Qwest center for the concert. People watching is fun. Almost an event in itself. Apparently only 30 to 40 something aged white people like Bon Jovi. There was a longish wait between the opening act and when Bon Jovi took the stage. The woman in front of me filled the time by calling and texting every person she knew that was going to the concert. Same routine each time. She'd call, get the person, ask where they were and tell them where she was. Each time she'd help them find her by standing up, waving her hand a little, then the wave would get wider and wider until people near her were in danger of becoming part of her act. She'd locate the person she was calling and when she was satisfied they saw her too, she'd hang up. And call the next person. There was one woman there that on first glance I thought she'd forgotten to wear a shirt. Then I realized she had one on it was just teeny tiny. I guess when you spend as much on enhancements that this woman had the only way to show them off is to wear a shirt that is way too small. Her surgeon should be commended.

The band finally took the stage at 9:15 and without a break put on a fantastic show until after 11:00. Jon is amazing. I can literally remember when some of these songs first hit the air 27 years ago. How he's kept that band together without the egos of the other 3 destroying his kindgom is beyond me. Jon has aged well and done a good job of staying current. As much as I can say I love Jon, and the fan next to me loved Jon, and the woman in the non-shirt loved Jon, no one in that arena loved Jon as much as JON loves Jon. He manipulated all 16,000 fans the entire night to make sure his ego was stroked. If the cheers quited down he demanded more. If the fans sat down he cajoled them out of his seat. There was a dance all night between the performance and the required adulation of the crowd.

Richie looked as good as Richie is going to look. He's lost about 45 pounds since the last concert I saw him in concert and had some work done on his face. The weight loss was good. He didn't sweat as much as before and therefore didn't need as many costume changes. I've seen some pics in People Magazine post face lift and I was a little worried he couldn't move his face anymore. He must be more used to the new face now because he made all the faces I've seen at previous concerts. He's good at his craft. He plays a mean guitar and every so often Jon would let him out of his assigned spot to come up near Jon to share the spotlight and do a guitar solo.

And then there are the other two. (That is all the more press they normally get in the press, so that is all the more press they get on my blog!!)

The concert was awesome. At one point Jon had the whole band out on the center of things on a make shift catwalk. Jon and Ritchie had their guitars. Tico had something that looked like a card board box, and the other one with crazy hair (does he have a name?) who normally plays keyboard came out with an accordian. Yes, an accordian. At a Bon Jovi concert. It wasn't really unplugged, but it was much more stripped down version of their normal concert sound stuff.

It was a good night, but a late one. My ride had to come get me after 11:00 and we didn't get home until 11:40 or so.

I ate at a resaurant touted by Guy Fieri, walked amongst the master painters, sat 20 feet from Richie Sambora, but in the end of the day that didn't register on the greatness scale. I watched my family rearange their schedule to go to a resaurant Jami and I picked. I watched my sister patiently teaching her 6 and 8 year old the importance of art. I played webkinz with my niece and nephew and listened to their squeels of delight. My nephew made sure Grandma told me he said good night, even though I wasn't at home during bed time. My mom and dad both were willing to drive into downtown Omaha late at night to make sure I got to and from the concert. That is greatness. All the fun and entertainment of the day would have been empty without a family behind me. Yesterday was a good day.

Kate joins the big girl club :-)

Jami and I have a favorite hair stylist we like to go to when we come to Omaha. Lorie is great, and when you find a hairstylist that you like you stick with her--even if she is in Omaha and you live in Indiana! This time we took Kate with us for her first cut/trim in a big girl salon. (Before yesterday her haircuts were from Cookie Cutters and/or mom's scissors.) She just got a few inches off the ends and her bangs shaped up. The pic above is a before pic. Isn't her hair awesome! At some point she is going to go short and donate to locks of love, but for now it was just a trim.

It was a bit of a splurge, but the kind of fun things that can happen on vacation. When we first started going to Lorie's, Kate was probably only 2 or 3--someone that needed Grandma to babysit. Now she's 6, with a full head of hair and joining us for hair cuts. It is so cool to watch this little 45 pound dynamo hold her own with the "big girls". She's always up for anything the big girls are doing. She wants to be right in the mix. Except for today. Today we are going to the Omaha Art Museum. She's not into art museums. I think she'd rather be the one doing the art than looking at it. She'd like to stay home with "whoever isn't going".

Happy, happy taste buds.

I tried this tonight for the first time and I'm having trouble coming up with words to describe the experience. The best I can come up with is....how did I spend 39 years on this earth without ever trying this stuff? I now feel like to some extent I've squandered the first 39 years and will need to be sure I make up the time I've missed consuming this.

I had a bowl of this with some honey and fruit. Perfection.

What I found when I wasn't looking.

I had a gift handed to me this week. I've got a roommate. My head is still spinning, it has happened so fast. Not quite two years ago my roommate of approximately 7 years finished grad school, and took a job in Arkansas. For most of my post-college life I've been fortunate enough to have a roommate. I didn't really seek them out--they just fell into place.

At one point I lived in a 600 square foot trailer and had not one, but two roommates. That was tight! We all shared one tiny little bedroom and used the other tinier little bedroom for a closet. Crazy.

When Jenny moved out it was the first time in 7 years that I would routinely come home to an empty house. I'm an introvert and by nature people and social situations exhaust me. Not that I do not like them or want to be around them--just that I don't draw my energy from people. I don't gravitate towards crowds, but coming home every night to an empty house wasn't appealing.

The first night I came home after Jenny left I was on my phone with my mom and was walking around the house looking at all the empty spaces where her stuff used to be. I just cried. I kept saying....I can't do this. I can't come home to an empty house every single night. I wanted another roommate but you can't go to Wal-mart and just "get" a roommate.

So I waited. Eventually I learned to take advantage of not having a roommate. Coming home to an empty house, means......coming home to an empty house. :-) Empty. I can leave my stuff where I want to. Snooze the alarm as long as I want. Leave the bathroom door open. Sing. Enjoy my niece and nephew as loudly as I want when they visit. Sleep in on a Saturday without having the noise of another person starting their day wake me up. Park my car in the middle of the garage.

Shallow reasons for NOT wanting a roommate, but profound reasons for learning to find contentment in your present situation.

Slowly I spread out. Filled the spaces Jenny vacated. Enjoyed the freedoms being alone can grant but remained open to a roommate. Last Sunday Brooke greeted me a church by asking if I was still interested in a roommate. Someone she worked with and who played softball at Grace while Brooke was coaching was looking for a place to live in Warsaw. She lives in Rochester and was growing tired of the drive.Yep, I thought, but where I am going to put her? I turned Jenny's room into a craft room, and the other room is where I put my family when they come to visit. I can't remember much of the sermon that day because I was figuring out where I'd put a roommate. By the end of the sermon I pretty much had it figured out and told her I'd figure out the logistics and to let her know there was a space for her if she was interested.

We met, had lunch. Everything clicked and ....here I am less than two weeks later getting things ready for my new roommate to move in. It feels like a good fit for both of us. I wasn't actively looking. I did nothing to influence the decision. It was just a neatly wrapped present that God placed right in my lap. And I'm very thankful.