What's the Weekly Special?!?

This morning, after the kids went to the recreational program at the elementary school, my mother accompanied me to do my grocery shopping at the lovely little produce market down the road.  She walks with a cane due to severe osteoarthritis in both knees.  She decided to use the grocery cart as support while we were in the store, so the cane went into the cart.  After we were finished, we dropped by the music store so I could pick up one of the kids' NYSSMA pieces that had arrived.  When I got back to the car, she was upset.  She realized she'd left her cane in the shopping cart.  So we headed back to the market.

When we got there, a man who worked for the store was straightening up a big group of shopping carts and lining them up in front of the entrance.  I asked him if he'd seen the cane.  In broken English, he managed to communicate that he hadn't, but if he had, he would've brought it to the office.  Not especially hopeful, I headed inside to see whether someone else had found the cane and turned it in.  I caught a manager who was stocking shelves, and he said yes indeed, someone had brought the cane to the office.  He asked another manager to unlock the office for me.  As we were walking, she remarked that she tells people all the time that this is the "miracle store."  I looked at her and asked what she meant.  She said that lots of people walk in with canes, and then by the time they walk out, they don't need the canes anymore!   (Turns out that my mother is far from the only person who has been in this situation.)  When I brought my mother her cane, she was thrilled of course, and then we had a good laugh over the "miracle" remark.

That jazzed up an otherwise ordinary Saturday morning!

Mommy, It Hurts

At 12:30am, I awoke to the sounds of Diabetic Man gnashing his teeth and grunting.  I got out of bed and quickly checked to see him with his feet and legs on the living room couch, and his head on the floor.  Luckily, he was facing outward, so it was a convenient position for me to pop a few mini Nestle Crunch bars into his mouth, whenever he opened it to grunt...as long as I steered clear of his arms.  It's very interesting; when the brain doesn't work correctly because of lack of sugar, the patient becomes very combative and wants to pulverize everyone in the immediate vicinity.  Good thing I've done this before.

When hubby started to come out of the episode, he got to his feet and started yelling, "My %$#@ back hurts!"  (Small wonder, right?)  Then he followed up with, "My %$#@ ass hurts!"  No surprise there, either.  While smiling and rolling my eyes upward, I found myself hoping beyond hope that the kids didn't wake up.  Well, when Son #2 came out to greet me this morning, he asked me whether Dad was OK.  I said yeah and asked whether he'd heard him during the night.  A broad grin slowly spread across my son's face as he said, "Yup!"

I Am a Song

My village has a community summit which sponsors, among other events, an annual writing contest.  This year's theme was expressing the feelings that music stirs within us.  I wrote this back in November one evening, after singing the kids to sleep.  I was just notified that it was chosen for the anthology.  It's my pleasure to share it.

I AM A SONG

Sing me when you feel like making music in the air

Sing me when you feel like having something you can share

Sing me when you're happy so everyone can hear

Sing with arms wide open so you'll draw your loved ones near

Sing me when you're sad and it will coax your sadness out

Sing me with a broken heart, rather than cry or shout

Sing me when you're lonely and be soothed by your own voice

Sing me when you're panicked and it will help you make a choice

Sing me when you're proud and bask in your success

Sing me nice and loud and you'll be certain to impress

Sing me every day and make the most of every word

Sing me everywhere you go, and know that you'll be heard.

Para Cantar La Bamba

Son #2 had a classmate come over to play for a couple of hours this afternoon.  They were in the yard playing hockey for a little while, after they shoveled snow off the patio.  Unfortunately Son #1 got whacked in the nose with a hockey stick, but apart from some swelling and a small cut, he's okay.  He plans to tell anyone who asks that he got into a fight with a bull.  (Why he chose a bull, I have no idea.)

After the hockey portion of the program, they all came inside and played Guitar Hero on the Wii.  They took turns singing and playing guitar (drums are broken at the moment).  Our son's friend had the microphone when "La Bamba" came up.  From the beginning, it was obvious that he had no idea what the words were supposed to be, except the refrain.  He sort of mumbled (stumbled) through it, making up nonsense words...which was funny enough.  And he wasn't quite singing.  He was grunting in a way that suggested what Bruce Springsteen would sound like with a bad case of strep throat.  The rest of us were giggling and falling about the room.  Son #1 had to pause the song several times because he was unable to play the guitar.  I had to drop my crocheting to dry my eyes.

Even though they were playing a video game, it was in the spirit of good old fashioned fun.  I hope I remember this every time I hear this song in the future!

We've Now Done Eggplant...

Some people don't really believe I'm half Italian.  Today I cooked eggplant parmigiana for the first time.  Peeled the eggplant, sliced it thin, laid it out on the counter on paper towels and salted each side of each slice liberally.  It really does shed a lot of moisture that way.  I then breaded and baked it.  After turning, I put sauce and cheese on, and broiled a bit to brown the cheese.  This was at hubby's request, since he really digs eggplant.  I never used to, but discovered that if I slice it thin, I don't mind it.  At age 44 I really can learn new tricks.  Whoo-hoo!

Giving

Yesterday was the district wide blood drive.  Son #1 had done his "little physician" homework assignment, and tried to recruit ten donors.  He was excited because his dad and I were both donating, his dad for the first time ever.  For many years, hubby was a medical deferral as far as New York Blood Services was concerned, because he had been taking insulin made from pork and beef.  Now that he is using strictly the genetically engineered insulin products, and his blood sugar is under constant control, he was given the thumbs up to donate.

He had a 4PM appointment and mine was at 5PM, so I anxiously looked for his car when I arrived.  He was still there, having finished but still reclining on the lounge chair bed.  The drive chairperson let me go over to check on him.  They kept him for a little while because he'd felt slightly lightheaded afterwards.  But as I was going through medical, he was being served juice and cookies.  All turned out well.  One neat thing:  I'd never seen platelet donation machines at a mobile blood drive site before, but yesterday there were two.  One of my neighbors was using one when I arrived for my whole blood donation, and we were able to chit chat.  It only took 40 minutes for her to finish...about half the time I thought it would take.

I was feeling fairly tired at tuck-in time, and Son #1 remarked that it seems to take a lot out of me to donate.  I always do sleep like a rock after donating.  But it's so worth it to save the lives.  My cousin's daughter needed many transfusions while she was alive, fighting her fight with cancer, and I continue to have her in mind.  It should be interesting to see whether hubby continues to donate...at least when prodded by one of the children.

One of Many Great Maya Angelou Quotes

"If you don't like something, change it.  If you can't change it, change your attitude."