Treats

Feb. 21, 2015

What makes a treat a treat is that it’s something enjoyed only occasionally. 

We had dinner tonight with the Friends we do dinner with every couple of months. I posted the last time we met, when I hosted – this is the Friend who appreciates eating healthy and well, so we enjoy eating good food together. Last time we included Daughter and Son-in-law and it was such a good dynamic that we all did it again this time around, at Friend's home. Being with all of them fills me with joy, and I realized that even though I would be elated to hang with them every day, part of the reason getting together like this is so sweet is because we don’t get to do it very often. I’m grateful for treats.

Hindsight

Feb. 1, 2015

A year ago today I was seeing spots in front of my eyes – literally, from a miniscule bit of cholesterol blocking a tiny vessel in my retina. It happened on a Friday, and for an excruciatingly long weekend, I raised my own blood pressure worrying that I had more deadly blockages floating around just waiting to hit lungs or brain (a very counterproductive thing to do when what you’re hoping not to have a cardiovascular event!). Today I’m grateful that a year later I’ve experienced no stroke or embolism, that my eyesight is mostly intact, and that the doctor I visited for the first time two weeks before the stroke recognized and treated a condition shown to increase stroke risk.

I’m also grateful we got to properly celebrate Husby’s birthday – with dinner at the restaurant where we had reservations last year but had to cancel because of the stroke. Even better, Daughter and Son-In-Law joined us … and surprised us by treating. I’m grateful for children who want to do that.

Keep Writing!

Jan. 26, 2015

Quite often my journal entries end up being much longer than I thought they would be when I sat down to write. The thing about writing is that you have to think to do it. As I write about something for which I’m grateful, a certain thought process unfolds, wherein I realize the blessing is not one thing in isolation, rather it’s a component of a conversation God is trying to have with me, a revelation of His hand in my life. The blessings wouldn’t be visible if I didn’t sit down and take stock; the conversation would be inaudible if I didn’t notice one little blessing. Today’s blessing is one such example.

I talked on the phone this afternoon with a writing buddy who moved away a couple of years ago. We haven’t visited in several months, and our catching up always includes some musings about writing. She told me she’s writing her memoir, and I told her about my gratitude journal and gave her the link, with instructions to start at the first post in order to understand the reasons for my ramblings. She texted later in the day, “Dropped everything – so swept up in your blog. Keep writing!”

Our conversation came on the heels of a months-long string of Mama-said days. I got beat down during the stress of the holidays and didn’t write, in part because I didn’t have the time, and in part because when I’m using my limited energy to keep my head above churning waves, it’s hard to see things to be grateful for. After Friend’s comment today, I went back and read my first – and subsequent – posts to read through her eyes and see what might have swept her up. I’m not sure what that might have been, but for me, reading my own words threw cold water on my pity party.

My gratitude today is three-fold:

1. For the uplift of connecting with a friend
2. For the subsequent nudge to go back and read my own journal, the purpose of which I myself stated is a daily exercise of recognizing blessings and to help me remember during the times when the clouds obscure my vision that I am blessed.
3. For God’s roundabout way of giving me a hand up and out of the winter-blues-bad-mood-funk I’m in

Cowboys

Jan. 16, 2015

If I can't live in the mountains, I'm grateful to live in Cowtown. We went to the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo with Grandson #2 and Daughter-in-law today. It was opening day, which we didn't realize when we made the date to go the Science Museum, but when we got there and found out that museum parking also got us into the Stock Show, we headed over. Little Boy loves the hunks of metal (tractors & ranch machinery) as much as the animals, and because it was opening day, the vendors were just setting up. So we got to see the Stock Show just coming together, a few animals and lots of tractors - without the crowds.

Smile for the day was the cowboys who let me take their picture. In a society too full of sloppiness - pants on the ground, wrinkled t-shirts and hoodies, and slouching posture - you gotta love cowboys. These boys walk with confidence and look clean-pressed even in work clothes - starched & creased jeans that fall just right on their boots (even cooler with spurs), neatly pressed shirts, a vest or jacket, leather gloves, topped off with a be-still-my-heart cowboy hat, blocked to fit perfectly. But here's why I really love cowboys: I asked if I could take their picture and they politely obliged, struck a natural pose and smiled - genuine smiles! When I thanked them, one said, "Yes, ma'am." How lucky I am to live where gentlemen still call a woman "ma'am" and mean nothing but respect by it!

Mistletoes

Jan. 3, 2015

The Happy Holidays are over ... at last. Too busy to write in December, but here's my list of Christmas things I'm grateful for:

• The reason the world shifts gears, hangs lights on trees and eaves, redecorates everything from homes to streets, and even tries a little harder to be kinder: the celebration of the lowly birth of Him who descended to mortality to live a perfect life so that He could offer Himself as a sacrifice for everyone else's sins.
• The music - Handel, carols, and even some secular Christmas like Mannheim Steamroller, Amy Grant and some of the Oldies. I'm grateful for those whose gift it is to make and perform it, grateful that my parents let me take piano lessons so I can play it.

2014 Christmas cards from friends near and far

• Christmas cards. All these friends - rushed and busy like me - took time to sit down, sign and address a card, some with a 2014 recap note, and spent 49 cents to send it to Husby and me. A few are friends we see often, and our cards are a tangible affirmation that our friendship is a treasure. Others are friends who have moved away, and although the holes left by each others' absence quickly fill up, the Christmas card is the thread that keeps us connected - like a web of little strings anchored to points on the map with pushpins. If either of us were to stop sending our Christmas card, we would lose contact. Well, there's Facebook, you say. Ah, but I'm not on Facebook because it's superficial and narcissistic, and it doesn't count. Seriously. There's just something about the act of making or selecting a card, writing a note, signing your name, writing a friend's name and address on the envelope, licking same envelope (that's love) and placing a stamp in the corner, that says, "You're my friend, and you mean so much to me that I'm sending this!"
• Visiting with friends. I take them treats, they bring me treats and we visit. One friend has a party every Christmas, so we get to visit with lots of friends all in one place and eat her husband's to-die-for authentic Italian meatballs.
• Going to The Polar Express at the Omni IMAX theater with Grandson #1 and Daughter. He had seen the movie dozens of times, but never at the theater, and certainly not on a 120-foot screen. And the Omni makes it a pajama party, with "Polar" activities and hot cocoa before the show.
  
  It was Christmas magic to see all those children in pajamas with their big gold train tickets, and sweet Grandson held his ticket all through the show. 
  
• Lights. Lights everywhere, making the night glow. I love our family tradition of driving around town to look at lights; Daughter brought Grandson #1 one afternoon, and we visited & played, mostly in the family room in the glow of the tree lights. After dinner Daughter wanted to go look at lights together. As we cleaned up dinner, Grandson made the seat assignments and gave me my smile for that day. Mommy would drive, Grampa would ride shotgun and Honey would sit in the back next to him. Grampa asked why Honey got to sit by him; he wrapped his arms around me and said, "Because she's my best friend!" I'm grateful that our family tradition now includes grandboys. And that brings me to my next and most important blessing:
• Family. All the music, greetings, decorations and food would feel a bit hollow if I didn't have family with me on Christmas day. Christmas is brand-new to Grandson #2 who gets opening gifts but not the occasion for gifts. After all the gifts were opened, we worked on our Christmas stockings; we called him over to see what was inside, and seeing a very large "sock," he lifted his little leg to try to put it in the stocking. Smile for that night. 
• On Christmas day, I told Grandson #1 I would have to get him under the mistletoe sometime that day. A bit later, standing under the mistletoe, he called me over and gave me a sweet kiss (which he doesn't do much any more). Later, when we were sitting around the table having a snack, he said, "Hey! We could have mistletoes all over the house, and then we could kiss all the time!" I love mistletoes and little boys.

Cake-and-Bagua Walk

Sunday, Nov. 9, 2014

It's the time of year to be grateful, and not just in the sense of November and Thanksgiving: for shirtsleeve-cool, not-humid air, for sunrise late enough to actually see and enjoy (never have been an early-morning person!). This year I'm particularly appreciating the season, as I've been doing my morning Tai Chi on the back deck. At 7:30 or so, the sun isn't yet in my eyes but is a warm orange glow just above the fence line. One morning this week after a rain the night before, steam was rising eerily off the fence as the sun began to warm the air.

Look closely - see the steam?

I breathe in the cold morning air, which burns my nostrils, but beyond the cold, the experience is so much more invigorating outdoors than inside that I relish every day I can do this in the back yard. A few weeks ago it was too warm and muggy, and soon it will be too cold. Fall mornings are a treat worth waiting 10 months for; starting a Fall day with focused Tai Chi is a particular gift.

With daily practice, Tai Chi movements have become somewhat more natural, and thus our classes have advanced beyond choreography to focusing on energy movement. As we do the forms, we envision energy flowing out from hands or feet, and we do feel a difference in the hand and feet positions when we feel that energy. Theoretically, when energy blockages break up and energy flows as it should, healing occurs. At a class last week, Sifu said he was skipping Qigong that night because of the weather. That was a new one - but he quite often surprises us with nuances of the practice. He explained that Qigongs are intended to gather energy from the earth and get it moving in the body in an organized, health-giving way. When a storm is brewing or in progress, atmospheric energy is chaotic and can upset the body's energy if brought in through Qigong. Further, he said that early morning is the very best time to do Qigongs, when the day's energy is new and fresh. 

The next day, he taught us how to do Bagua, or Circle Walking - for those inclement-weather days when walking outside isn't practical. The basic pattern is to visualize a spot on the floor and walk in a circle around it; not as simple as walking in a circle, as it requires the outside foot to actually make an arc that keeps the pattern in a uniform circle. He taught us four hand positions, in each of which both hands are kept in a certain position on the inside of the circle as the feet walk. To begin, Sifu told us to take 20 steps in each direction, in each hand position. We tried it, and it's tougher than it looks - and oh yes, it does make you warm, if not hot!

More Gratitude for the week: I celebrated a birthday with people I love, both in-person and far away. Husby planned a full day, including a visit to the Kimbell art museum to see Impressionistic works on loan from the Musee d'Orsay in Paris, followed by lunch with Daughter and Grandson #1. They brought gifts and a hydrangea for the table; Grandson said he was thrilled I was turning 30. (I think one time this year he asked how old I was and I probably told him 29). Husby gave me a potted calla lily plant with amber flowers I had admired at Central Market last week and other thoughtful gifts. I received cards and calls from dear friends & sisters who remember my little day. Dinner with Husby, and then Son & family came over for paleo carrot cake, I gift I made for myself. 

Paleo carrot cake - wow, 10 eggs!

The cake itself tasted just like my old favorite recipe and had good texture for a flourless cake but was a little wet (Tres Leches carrot cake?). The mock-cream cheese icing (made with palm shortening, ghee, cashew butter for the cheesy flavor, and apple cider vinegar/lemon juice for the tang) was a pretty credible substitute, and I'm a cream-cheese icing lover!

But pretty, right?!? Especially on my mom's milk-glass cake stand.

 

Smile for today: I sat by Son, D-I-L and Grandson #2 in church today. At the end of the meeting, I said to Grandson, "Are you going to nursery now?!" He nodded, pacifier firmly in mouth. I stood up and reached for his hand, which he put in mine and we headed down the aisle. He has never wanted anything to do with me - pulls away if I get too close, certainly won't let me hold him, and only recently gave up screaming fits if left alone with me. So I looked down at him, thinking he must have thought he was holding his daddy's hand. Nope. He knew it was me, and we were walking to nursery together - and he was just fine with it. Finally!

Back to Real Life

Oct. 28, 2014

Quick post today because I'm back from vacation, and that means getting back on the fast-moving treadmill. I miss being on vacation, but not living out of a suitcase; I miss the mountains, but I'm grateful to be back at Tai Chi. We were the only ones in class last night and today, so my first classes back were pretty much personal instruction. Nice. Although I did a quick run-through of the basics most mornings while on vacay, I did miss my classes. 

Smile for today: Playing in the park this morning with Grandson #2, in temps a good 15 degrees lower than the high 80s of the previous two days - both things for which to be grateful!

Sisters

Oct. 23, 2014

Today I'm grateful for sisters - mine, my mom's, and the daughters of my sisters. We met for dinner tonight - one of my mom's two remaining sisters, her daughter (my funny, funny cousin), my two sisters, and every one of our daughters. All of Mom's girls haven't been together like that since the last family gathering at her house when the granddaughters were just little, certainly long before they grew up and scattered. Since Mom's gone, it was all the more special to have her sister with us. As often happens when actively looking at everyday blessings, I recognize things for which I've always been thankful in a more poignant light. In the presence of 10 women who share blood and familial love, I deeply appreciate what a gift sisters are.

I'm thankful to have grown up with two built-in friends, and I'm thankful they are still my friends. I spent the last two days with Older Sister, and we never ran out of things to talk about. Younger Sister came to dinner after having just flown back into town from New York. She was exhausted after a pressure-filled business trip and a long flight, but she came because we're sisters. Growing up, my sisters were my confidantes, my allies, my sounding board when our dad's discipline didn't feel fair, my playmates, and my idols. We shared clothes, pranks and secrets. How different and solitary my life would be if I didn't have these girls!

Having only one daughter (and so grateful that I have one), I admit that although I was often annoyed at Older Sister's girls' obnoxious silliness when they were together, I was probably also a bit jealous that there were so many of them and that they enjoyed each other so much. Now that they are grown up, they're just as close, and silliness still breaks out, but to witness how they still genuinely love being together added to my gratitude for sisters - and cousins, which are really sisters-once-removed, right? As each of Older Sister's daughters was invited to dinner, three said it would be hard to come due to distance, children to care for, tight budgets ... but as soon as one learned that another was planning to attend, in quick succession each of the others committed to coming and found a way to do it. It was heartwarming to visit with each individually and appreciate what lovely young women they are and to be happy for the bond they share. 

Younger Sister's daughter said yes within minutes of being invited just a day in advance, and Daughter made arrangements for S-I-L to take Grandson for an outing tonight so she could be with us as well. I admit to being awed at how each of these girls made getting together a priority. They are wise enough to know that these are the moments that make life good. 

Cousin said her Mum was "just all kinds of happy about this." Aunt got verklempt when we all sat down at the table together. After dinner, Cousin presented Sisters and I each a wrapped gift to remind us of our reunion: a blingy pen, which they didn't even realize was the most appropriate gift possible for three sisters who have a pen and paper fetish. 

Dinner over and tabs paid, we still had things to say ... so we stood on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold, continuing one unfinished conversation that had been divided into two tables over dinner. We reminisced about our younger days and lamented that our memories were fading, and the people who could help us remember are gone. It came to me that memories become precious when they begin to escape us. Aunt couldn't remember the names of the family's work horses and wished she could ask her brother, which prompted a few of us to regret not having written such things down - and to resolve to start writing them now! So here are a few things I will be glad I wrote down, and so will my posterity, I'm quite sure. 

Starry, Starry Night

Oct. 15, 2014

Today I'm grateful for childhood memories of Yellowstone, homemade chili and stars. 

I remember my family's camping trips, many of them to Yellowstone, and some of my memories bubbled to the surface as we drove those roads again with Daughter, Son-In-Law and Grandson. Grandson is 5, and as five-year-olds do, he talks incessantly, usually nonsense. He pokes, squirms, laughs, then instantly turns to sulking when he doesn't get his way. That reminded me of three little girls squirming on the back seat of my dad's Oldsmobile as the miles stretched endlessly on, with my dad crossly threatening that he would pull off the road and spank me if I didn't stop giggling. He kept his word on more than one occasion, and I would cry, my bottom stinging, only to start giggling again as soon as the car was back in motion. My sisters have both independently recorded the same memory, so I'm pretty sure it really happened as I remember it. On this trip, the realization came to me that I must have been about 5 when my own annoying behavior caused some aggravation on family vacations. I never thought spankings would be a memory for which I'm grateful, but somehow, I am.

Daughter wanted a family portrait from this trip, so today, even though it was cloudy, we set up a portrait on the cabin deck and down on the river bank. Yesterday was sunny and would have been a perfect portrait day, but we had so much we wanted to see in the park that we got home too late to do a portrait.

Despite the clouds, the air was still today - until the moment we wrapped up, then the wind came up and blustered the rest of the day. I'm grateful that we got to take a family picture for Daughter. After my parents died, one of my sisters went through all of my dad's slides and made a digital selection of representative photos. I treasure more than words can express the ones of our trips to Yellowstone, many of them probably taken in the exact spots we have taken pictures the last few days. I know what this family photo will someday mean to Daughter and Grandson, and perhaps to others in the family tree who haven't yet been born. 

I also felt a sense of personal history when we drove the road around Quake Lake, as my family was in the great Yellowstone earthquake of Aug. 17, 1959. I was not quite 3 years old, and my family was in a camper when the quake hit at about 11:30 p.m.; the 7.5-magnitude quake triggered a landslide that sent 80 million tons of rock crashing down on sleeping campers at a Forest Service campsite just west of Yellowstone. About 28 people were killed, either crushed under the rock or drowned in the Madison River. I never realized until this trip how grateful I am that we were protected. The 50-year-old dead trees rising out of the depths of the six-mile-long lake are an eerie reminder of how blessed we were.

We put chili ingredients in the crock pot this morning before leaving on our day's adventure and came home to the most wonderful aroma. Even the next-door neighbor's dogs apparently knew something was cooking and were on the doorstep the minute our truck pulled up. I'm grateful for the blessing of food and for how delicious it tastes after a long day of exploring nature. After dinner we played games, and I'm grateful for the bonds that are formed when families play together.

The day ended with a gathering on the porch to look at the stars. This is the only night of our stay that the skies have been completely clear. It's been so long since I’ve seen stars like that, I was awe-struck. We saw the Milky Way stretch across the entire sky. Grandson saw for the first time the Big and Little Dipper, but the stars were so dense that Husby and S-I-L couldn’t find Orion. There we were with the expanse of endless stars like tiny holes punched in a perfectly clear blue-black sky letting heaven shine through; silhouettes of pines against that sky; the river shushing by, and night-birds calling … heaven on earth. I'm filled with gratitude for that breathtaking experience.

Surrounded by Majesty

Oct. 14, 2014

It’s pretty easy to find things for which to be grateful while on vacation – it’s vacation, after all! 

I’ve kept vacation journals before, but I’ve never recorded how I feel about what I see and experience. Doing it brings a new dimension to vacation, just as it has done to everyday life. 

I'm grateful for the wonders of nature I've seen the last few days. I've seen these same features many times, but it occurred to me, as I’m sure it does every time I visit (but I forget when I get back home), that I'm witnessing God’s majesty here. I don’t often see or feel that in man-made surroundings. 

As I looked out at the stunning vistas, with dramatic rocky cliffs towering to the sides, a clear rushing river cascading to a dramatic falls, and beyond that, miles and miles of green pine trees stretching to the blue mountains on the horizon, I felt so grateful for all this splendor! 

And today I’m grateful for 60-degree temps, which made visiting all these sights even more pleasurable than yesterday, when it was overcast a lot of the day, 38° and windy, so our hands, noses and ears stung with the cold. 

Walking through the mist from the hot pots made it even colder, and at one particular spot, the steam was so dense our hair was dripping and our eyelashes froze; our coats were covered with frost, and we looked like wet cats.  

 


We headed to Old Faithful at lunchtime and ate our little picnic on a bench near the geyser, shivering and walking around to stay warm. We were blessed with a tender mercy: the geyser went off about 15 minutes after we ate lunch, and the next eruption wasn’t for nearly two more hours! To be at the site I visited so many times as a child and to see it again now through the eyes of my grandson was ... kind of like Christmas. Things that are magical to a kid don't seem quite so magical when you grow up until you become a grandparent. I'm grateful to have felt the magic again!



We walked and hiked and got in and out of the car dozens of times, and we came home tired and happy. 

We built a fire in the fire pit on the riverbank and roasted hot dogs and completely saturated our clothes and hair with campfire smoke. I'm grateful for all the happy family-camping-vacation memories this activity conjured and to share it now with Grandson. 

 

I'm grateful to look out the window and see this for five glorious days in autumn!

Doctor, My Eyes Have Seen ...

Sept. 17, 2014

* Note: I wrote this entry and forgot to post it the same day, so it's out of sequence, but that's how Freddie works a lot of the time!

Trials can serve to show us what we really have, which came home to me with a rather spectacular light show in my left eye in January. I woke up the morning of Husby's surprise 60th birthday party ready to hit the road running. As soon as I got out of bed, I noticed dark spots in the line of vision in my left eye. I've had floaters before and they go away after about a day, so I thought I'd lie back down for a few minutes and see if they dissipated. They didn't, and I had a party to put together, so I went to the closet to get dressed. That's when I saw a display that looked like a confetti spray of silver glitter inside my eye. As pretty as it was, I knew it couldn't be good. I called my optometrist's office and they could get me in within the hour. Driving was a little scary. 

My optometrist did the requisite tests, then she wanted to dilate my eyes for a good look inside. I asked her if we could wait until Monday to do that because I couldn't spare the downtime today. With genuine compassion, she said, "I'm sorry - this trumps a birthday party, as important as that is." She said a display of bright lights can indicate a detached retina, and if the retina was involved, it needed to be addressed immediately. Her exam indicated the retina was not detached, but she saw blood pooled at the back of the eye and scheduled an appointment with a retina specialist in the afternoon. I was so put out.

The retina doc dilated my eyes again, took probably 100 pictures of the inside of both eyes, and infused dye in my arm to see where in the eye the blockage was. That one appointment pretty much covered all the things I hate: needles, having my eyes dilated, and seemingly endless bright flashes directly into my eyes. The verdict, after all of this, was that a small piece of cholesterol blocked blood flow in the main vein off the optic nerve, causing an aneurysm. In the films, I could clearly see the blockage and an area surrounding it that was light yellow. The doctor said the light area was where the pooled blood destroyed nerves in the retina, and the dark spots I was seeing in my line of vision were the areas of the retina where no information was being transmitted to the brain. He said I essentially had a stroke in my eye, that nothing could be done but to wait and watch for symptoms to improve or worsen. His only recommendation was to get in to my primary-care doc ASAP for tests to determine if there were any more blockages floating around in my neck or heart. Oh great! He told me all this as nonchalantly as if I should go home and take some aspirin for a headache. I spent the whole weekend terrified that I would have a stroke before Monday and wake up to live my mother's nightmare of incapacitation.

Well, here's the point of this story and why it's my object of Gratitude for today. The last month or so I've had to work harder to see, so I visited the optometrist today for a prescription adjustment. How amazing is it that eight months after I sat in her office facing possible vision loss, today my eye is healthy, save some small blind spots on the retina?!? I saw a lot of the retina doc in the months following my "cardiovascular event," but by the third visit, the eyesight in my left eye had improved to almost 20/20. It took a few months, but the swelling went completely down, the pooled blood was absorbed, and the area turned pink and healthy again. The affected nerves are dead and don't regenerate, but instead of seeing dark opaque spots, now it's like looking through water spots on a lens. 

BUT - I can see! I haven't taken that for granted for one moment since the incident. I didn't lose my precious sight and I didn't have a stroke or heart attack - in fact, my echocardiogram and doppler neck scan were completely clear. My farsightedness means my perfect vision has deteriorated more over the last few years than that of nearsighted people, so it takes more and more effort to see anything anymore. Now with the blind spots, I have to work even harder, but my brother-in-law, who did have a detached retina several years ago and lost the sight in that eye, is now going blind from glaucoma in the other eye. I feel so much more empathy for him now, and I appreciate how difficult and dark life would be without sight. Despite this little trial, I'm so very grateful that I can still see my grandbabies and how they grow and change, the hummingbirds in my back yard, the beautiful world, and that I can drive. And I know that if I were blind I would somehow have to find blessings in my life, because finding things to be grateful for is what keeps faith and hope alive.

Another blessing in all of this: I first started seeing Fibro Doc #3 two weeks before the eye stroke. I checked with both him and my PCP about what tests they thought we should run. Fibro Doc requested a Homocysteine test, in addition to the cholesterol test, echocardiogram and doppler neck scan my PCP wanted. Fibro Doc knew what "mainstream" docs don't know or won't acknowledge: that elevated homocysteine levels are highly associated with stroke (a flaw in the methylation cycle, which also correlates with autism, ADHD, and ding-ding-ding - fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. See my post, "I Can Do Hard Things" for more info.) My Homocysteine was high, but after taking B-12 injections, SAMe and 5-MTHF for a few months, it dropped to well within normal range. My family doc wanted me to start a statin drug even though my cholesterol numbers were within normal range because "once you've had a cardiovascular event, you need to be on them, period." But removing cholesterol from the blood doesn't address why extra cholesterol is there anyway, which is because it's trying to protect the lining of the veins from inflammation. And statins have known side effects, including a link to Alzheimer's. When I asked the family doc about antioxidants and anti-inflammatory diet, he said there's no evidence that they have any real benefit. Well why would you make dietary changes when you can take a pill every day to make the numbers look good? 

I feel like the eye stroke was God's finger giving me a firm tap on the shoulder - too serious to ignore, serious enough to alert me and my new doctor to something that could be addressed before it became deadly, but not so serious that it sidelined me. Spending the morning at the optometrist and the whole afternoon at the retina specialist nearly derailed Husby's surprise birthday party, but God even took care of that. With a few adjustments, it happened as planned and we got to celebrate Husby's milestone along the timeline of his great life with family and dear friends after all. It's all good!

Warm Memories

Sept. 27, 2014

circa 1947 Salad Master Machine

Last week, while making Danielle Walker’s Spanish Frittata with Chorizo (Against All Grain), I hauled out my mom’s Salad Master to grate the sweet potatoes. I gave away my food processor years ago and was kicking myself (now that I’m making meals from whole foods and spending an inordinate amount of time peeling, chopping, slicing and grating) until I remembered that I had the Salad Master. Here I digress, because it’s my smile for the day: setting up that rather elegantly simple device - no electricity necessary - on my own countertop brought a tidal wave of memories from my mom’s kitchen, complete with 1950s pink appliances and now-Retro pink & gray patterned Formica countertops, yes, from those wonderfully simple days before electrical appliances took over the kitchen. I remember helping Mom grate and slice, watching the colorful veggies turn from whole to shreds or slices as they tumbled into a bowl in a smooth, almost mesmerizing motion with the turning of the cylinder. And then they became zucchini bread or potato chips, or some 40 years later, the vibrant orange basis of my frittata. 

And is this serendipitous, or what? Of the three Nielsen sisters, the one who lives in Texas took the Salad Master after Mom passed away, only to learn while writing this post that Salad Master was established in 1946 by Harry Lemmons, who set up operations in his home in Dallas, Texas! The company was so successful that within a year he moved into a new building in Dallas, where the company operated for the next 43 years. Today, the company is located in Arlington, Texas, halfway between Dallas and Fort Worth, and alongside a line of stainless steel cookware, the Salad Master Machine is still the flagship product of the company's business, sporting a sleek new design, but performing exactly the same uncomplicated function. Would I trade Mom's for a new one? Not a chance, but check out the new beauty here.

I am grateful for happy memories, and for my mom, who I see and feel beside me again when I use her tools or read her handwritten recipes, who made our house a home and who gave me lovely memories that make me smile today. 

Here are images of the Frittata-making process, a la recipe book. The final two images are Reality, because I have no kitchen assistants measuring out the ingredients in nice, neat little bowls, nor cleaning up behind me so the counters and sinks are pristine despite all the prep work. This is why the current love affair with open-concept home design is quite 
beyond me ... 

First time used in at least 15 years

Deja Vu!

Add chorizo to grated sweet potato/onion ...

... sauté together ...

8 organic eggs ...

... beaten (yes, I succumbed to the stick blender rather than my mom's egg beater, which I also have!)

Top with sliced tomatoes and pop into the oven for 12 minutes ...

All set and ready to serve with avocado slices and chopped cilantro. Nmmmm!

What you don't see ...

... on camera or in cookbooks!