Goodbye, August. You Can Show Yourself Out

 

Goodbye, August. Be on your way and don't give September any ideas, unless it's for the beautiful blue skies, voluptuous clouds, and refreshing temperatures you've left as parting gifts. Other than that, take your leave and all your lousy vibes with you.

I've been struggling with a mystery condition for a while now. After any exertion my muscles suddenly become very weak. I start losing my balance; my feet will scuff the ground when I walk, causing me to trip, then fall. Sometimes, I can sense it happening; other times, I have no warning at all. My arms have no strength, and my hands shake at times with tremors. I cannot carry anything of much heft, and there are times I can't steadily put a drink to my lips. As you can no doubt guess, this has put an end to my daily walks; I haven't been able to take one for a month. 

I miss them more than you could ever imagine. And I am so very tired so much of the time.

This is eerily reminiscent of my Vitamin D deficiency in 2017, except that I've been supplementing D religiously since then. Obviously, these symptoms prompted a visit to my primary care physician, who ordered some labs and a visit with my neurologist. Her initial diagnosis is that my very high dose of Topamax for migraine prevention, that I've been on for twenty years, might now be just too high for my tolerance at my age. "I worry that we might be doing this to you, not a disease process," she said. My dosage of Topamax is extremely high--higher than what is usually recommended--in order to control my migraines. My neurologist--actually his NP--ordered more labs and stepped down my Topamax as a possible solution. Another possible diagnosis is myasthenia gravis; unfortunately, there is no definitive test for it, only markers to look for or rule it out in a big process of elimination. But my initial round of labs looked pretty good, at least from what I saw and could figure out on my own.

And, as is always the case it seems, I don't go back for a follow-up with my actual neurologist until mid-September after new labs are done next week. Sigh.

As so many of you know, Patience is Not My Gift. I'm angry and annoyed that I'm so limited. And that now there is so much more burden placed on Rick. Just running the vacuum can put me out of commission for an hour or more. He escorts me on short little walks in case I tire and begin to show signs of scuffing. Spending part of a day with Theo--holding him, playing on the floor, being active with him, a Very Busy toddler--makes me incredibly tired and sore, but that will always, always be worth it. 

In other news, August marks yet another year for Dept. of Nance. I've been writing here for twenty years now! It's astonishing, but even more astonishing is the number of you who have been here for so many of those anniversaries. Thank you, and a special Thank You to my Faithful Commenters, who engage in and encourage such a lively, witty, and intelligent discussion here. You're the best on the Internet, no doubt about it.

I'll write a more celebratory post soon, but I wanted to share this news with you, my friends and virtual support group. Thank you for being here, and thank you for writing over at your places. It's a joy to start my day with you every single morning.

Shaking A Few Things Loose

This week I feel a Big Purge coming on. As I was packing to go to the lake for the weekend, I noticed that there were several things in my closet that I hadn't worn all summer; in fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had worn them. Clearly, it's time for them to go. That made me think about the rolled-up rug in the office closet and the shoes in there that haven't been worn lately either. Time to box and bag things up and call my favourite charity, Vietnam Vets of America, and get them out here for a pickup. (As usual, I'll try to inspire Rick to--cue dread and doom music--go through his things as well, but I don't expect that to amount to anything.)

I'm also feeling the need to Purge a few Thought Nerfuls and Cerebral Clutterbits taking up space in my head, so I'm going to give it a rattle and see what shakes loose.

BOOBS.  As in, mine are because I am Rebelling and refusing to wear a bra for the rest of the summer as of about two weeks ago. Now, to be fair, I am not Copiously Endowed, and because I am an Older Lady, mine are not, shall we say, prone to Being Bouncy. I have spent too much money on trying to find a bra that is even remotely comfortable, and yes, I was even professionally fitted. If I am wearing something sheer, I wear a cami; if I am not, then Shirt Only it is. Chances are extremely good that I continue this for all three remaining seasons and for the rest of my life, especially since I Just Don't Care. 

BOOKS.  I finished--with some disappointment--Parallel Lines by Edward St. Aubyn. Listen, the writing is excellent. I remain entranced and entertained by the character Sebastian, who features in the opening chapter and made me want to read this book. BUT. There were too many characters cluttering up the landscape and they weren't all different enough to make me notice. As a matter of fact, at one point I just sort of skipped lots paragraphs concerning a couple of characters AND IT MADE ZERO DIFFERENCE TO THE PLOT. And the ending made me irritated in that I put up with SO MUCH just to get to...this? Maybe your reading will be vastly different and I truly hope so. Maybe I am just a Huge Pain In The Ass about modern fiction.

However.

I am now reading Orbital by Samantha Harvey. First of all, thank you Julie for reviewing this book over at your place and for providing an excerpt. This book. This book is so achingly beautiful that when I read it, there are times that I simply have to put it down and breathe and recover myself. This morning I took it out on the patio with my coffee; the sound of my little pond waterfall was in the background, and now and then a bird would sing. As I read I would almost be overcome. What an incredible piece of literature. I feel privileged to read it.

PLANTS.  My basil is a green machine. I've made so, so many jars of pesto--in total a little over two quarts so far. I put it in little jars so that it stays fresher longer. Somebunny has gotten into my parsley despite my menacing fake owl and mowed down almost an entire plant. One suspect lounges quite nonchalantly under my swing in the evenings. My catnip got a severe case of powdery mildew, so I cut it all back and took it outside. Neither Piper nor Marlowe care/d a whit about catnip in their old age (I found out), so I was basically growing catnip to give away to the grandcats (Baker and George) anyway. (Side Note:  Jared and Jordan often threaten George that "Nana will come and speak sternly to you" when he misbehaves because they heard me threaten him with that ONE TIME.)

PLEASURES.  It's important to make note of Small Things That Make Us Happy, and here are mine in no particular order:  

1. Coffee

2. The family group chat

3. My porch and patio

4. My little pond and waterfall

5. Blackberries

6. The icemaker

7. Seeing Theo's crib in the office

8. Watching the two little boys across the street and remembering when Jared and Sam were that age

9. My volunteer tomato plant 

10. Piper snoring

I absolutely cannot wait to read what you have to say in Comments about Boobs, Books, Plants, or your life's little Pleasures.

The July Report: Strap In And Let's Do This

this is from YouTube

 July has been all over the place so far. This post will probably reflect that. Hang on tight because I have no real idea what this may turn into. Let's go.

1. Cervical Facet Arthropathy/Syndrome and Cervical Epidural Steroid Injection:  This all has nothing to do with lady parts; rather, it's all about a pain in the neck. It seems that my most recent falls have exacerbated the arthritis in my neck and exposed a nerve. I've been in pain and physically limited for months and months, and it finally got bad enough that I was referred to a pain specialist. Long story short, we tried medicine, and on Monday a cortisone shot into my neck/spine. If that doesn't hold, next is a nerve ablation. After that, it's surgery to insert pins/rods. I'm Trying Very Hard to avoid that last thing, which is huge and scary and, to me, the very last resort. So far, I'm really pleased with the injection. Fingers crossed that it gives me relief for a long time.

2. Herb Garden Stuff:  I've already made a batch of pesto from my basil and parsley and dried some oregano. My oregano is from a plant I put in more than 10 years ago. I've had to seed dill twice now because of this horrendous heat. I have a volunteer tomato plant somehow in there (I haven't planted tomatoes there for decades), and my jalapenos from last year seeded themselves smack dab in the middle of my rosemary. Today I pulled 14 jalapeno plants and put them in huge pots along the drive. I'll be making pesto again this week, provoking much joy from Jared and Sam.

3. Social Commentary Or Just Laziness? You Decide:  Sometimes on my walk I am confronted with sights that cause me to ruminate for a block or two. As a former English/Literature/Creative Writing teacher and student, I cannot help but see Deeper Meanings in most things. Plus, it's a nice break from reacting with Just Plain Annoyance. Consider these two related things that caught my eye today:

Is this a commentary on the way Organized Sports have a chokehold on our kids, forcing them into a world of pressure and competition far too early? Is it trying to tell us that kids should be spending more time outdoors in free play, discovering the wonders of Nature? Is it saying that too much money is spent on professional sports--salaries, arenas, merchandise, and the like--perhaps to the detriment of our natural environment? That we've lost our way as to what's Truly Important? I like to give my neighbours lofty, artsy, and highfalutin intentions rather than admit they're just indifferent about their yards. It allows me to maintain my Zen whilst I walk.

4. Weekends At The Lake:  Theo was ill over Independence Day with new teeth and a virus, so he couldn't join us, but Sam and Emily (aka Samily) and Zydrunas came for the day. We boated and lunched and hung out. Later that night, Rick and I watched three different fireworks displays from our front yard. We had a makeup weekend last weekend with everyone (minus Emily, who had to work, unfortunately), and it was wonderful. Theo is obsessed with Sam, who he calls Guncle. He drove the boat, talked a lot, danced, and got in the water. He had the time of his life, and we all marveled at how much having him around is like having Zydrunas around. Eerily similar, especially on the boat.

5. Books, Etc.:  I've read two books by Jay Winik about the Civil War. I know I've mentioned them in other Comment sections, so I won't talk about them here except to say that they are excellent and captivating. The writing is engaging and excellent. I grew up vacationing in Gettysburg, and I have a bit of an obsession with this period of history as well as President and Mary Lincoln, reading deeply in these areas. Sadly, I just lost my favourite aunt who lived in Gettysburg and who was a very gracious hostess to our family and to me separately. She was also an English teacher, as was her husband. I will miss her much.

I'm now reading--as a palate cleanser--Parallel Lines by Edward St. Aubyn. It is witty, British, acerbic, and smart. Say what you will about Evil Amazon (and there is plenty to), but they let me read the first chapter of books, and this one had me smiling in admiration, recognition (of how one thought leads to another and another), and amusement. I'm only about 45 pages in, and I absolutely love it. I can't wait to read more by this man. If I were sweeter, I'd type out some passages, but honestly, it's time to prep dinner, and I want to get this published. Go read the first few pages. It's so so good.

****

I think this catches us up. I'd like to say that I'll be better at posting more often, but I think we all know how that will turn out. Thank you to those who do post regularly. I wish I knew your secret. Certainly I have time! Perhaps I'll just say I'll Try.

Take A Load Off Your Brain: Visit My Grocery Store And Get A Music Lesson

 

Sometimes, you just need a Diversion--a Respite from all the strenuous gasping and concern and metaphorical hand-wringing brought to us by the agents of chaos that we, The Sane Ones, did NOT elect. I'm hoping this brief post provides a bit of that.

~*~My Grocery Store, Soon To Have Its Own Special On HBO:

These are actual photos taken by Me of actual signs in my funny grocery store's Closeouts Section. I hope it never, ever changes.

If you cannot see it, the sign says SEQUENCE DRESSES $2.99

You can see what a HOT DEAL these Fabric Lanters are. Or are they Fabric Lantens? 

Do you have five bucks lying around? You can score a set of Blue tooth Earbubs made by Sentry. Or maybe they're a Blue tooth Earbubs Sentry (although I'm not sure what that would be). Either way, a Hot Deal! And NEW!

Listen, I'm still wearing the cute denim sneakers I got there three years ago for $3.99. Their signs may be awful, but the Closeouts department has great stuff, usually Target merch.

~*~Mom Goes To Music School

 Last week, Maya wrote about talking music with her teen. Well, my two sons are way past being teens, but I had my own conversation over text with them about music last week, too. Rick and I were in the car, and Lose Yourself by Eminem came up on my playlist. (I love this song.) I got curious about its genre, so I texted Jared and Sam:

                                                   

*Fetter is Jared's nickname for Sam, after the hip hop artist Fetty Wap. Not sure how it came about.

Let me tell you, I listen to a LOT of hip hop on the boat when the boys come to the lake. A. LOT. Theo dances to all of it. And just a heads up, if you haven't already, don't watch the video to the song Knife Talk. It's...really disturbing in a crazy, avant garde sort of way. 

~*~

"These are the times that try men's souls," Thomas Paine wrote in 1776. "Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph." Resistance is not futile. What we say and what we do matters. Every act of Kindness is a defiance. Paine also reminds us that, "'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death." 

Resist.

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Porch Martinis and Peanut M & Ms: A Public Service Announcement

In a completely astonishing turn of events, I have become 66 years old. It's done no good to refuse it; the reality of it stubbornly exists, and I just have to live with it. There are times when I completely forget about how old I am, but then there are days like yesterday, when I am putting in my herb garden and attempting to help Rick get the little pond and waterfall cleaned up and running again, and weeding and yardworking, and my body reminds me that it's NOT HAVING IT AND HEY! REMEMBER YOUR ARTHRITIS ALL OVER THE PLACE?

This morning was a nightmare.

Can I buy Aleve by the drum?

Anyway.

Not too long ago on our way home from working at the lakehouse, I mentioned that I was in the mood for a martini. I didn't really want to go someplace to get one, but it sounded good. Of course, we had nothing at all at home to make one. That's when my hero answered the call:  we stopped at a liquor store on the way home and Rick got everything we needed to make not only martinis, but cosmopolitans, too. And The Porch Martini was born. 

I cannot recommend this highly enough. Rick makes lovely dirty martinis or cosmopolitans (aka pink martinis), and we sit on the front porch relaxing, chatting, and watching the world go by. Sometimes we let the cats out and let them enjoy the porch as well. It's an unwritten rule that we cannot discuss stressful things--that would disrupt The Porch Martini Vibe. It's the ultimate relaxation for me. We each have two martinis and sometimes some snacks. I've wholeheartedly embraced The Porch Martini. (And come on--everyone looks and feels so cool even just holding those glasses.)

But even as I've embraced The Porch Martini, I've had to break up with (for now!) Peanut M & Ms. Again. This gives me no end of grief, for as you know, not only do I consider them The World's Most Perfect Food, it proves that I did NOT learn my lesson from 2023. Conveniently, however, this time I can blame Rick for my transgression. Yes, he did thoughtfully ask if I wanted anything from the kitchen. True, I did say, "I do, but I don't know what," and he brought me just the right snack, said Peanut M & Ms. He did, however, just plop a big sack of them (thoughtfully given to me on my birthday by Jordan, my daughter-in-law) on the table next to me rather than give me a little portion. After two martinis, I just kept popping them into my mouth whilst watching Netflix, and pretty soon, (like the Cheetos and Lay's Original Potato Chips before them) they turned on me. Now, I've had to ask Rick to hide them while I see other snacks, like red grapes and the pretzels that look like little checkerboards.

You know, I've just read this over, and I am a bit concerned as to what sort of example I am setting for those of you who are younger. People who buy liquor are heroes! Booze it up on your porch! 

Yet, I am advocating for Snacking In Moderation. And Dealing With Your Stress. And Physical Activity In Your Advanced Years.

Really, this post is a Public Service, if you think about it.

You're welcome. 

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Epiphany Wednesday

 

I may have to reconsider Spring as my favourite season after this March and April unless NEO can get its weather under control. (80 degrees one day; 50 and rain the next! How about frost overnight?) It's been one shitful migraine after another, and I lost so many days of walking and Being A Person that I cannot even stand to think about it. A steroid pack finally gave me some relief after one particular migraine episode held me prisoner for 5 full days. 

And so on.

Anyway.

As I kept telling Rick--and myself--"Bet I don't die from it." And here we are.

On Wednesday I was feeling terrific. Finally able to go out for walks again, I was loving the flowering trees everywhere, magnolia, crabapple, redbud, cherry and weeping cherry, pear, and apple. Lilacs have started to bloom, and their scent was everywhere, along with hyacinths. Daffodils and bright red and yellow tulips (the only ones safe from squirrels) are flourishing. 

I had a doctor's appointment where I was pronounced Perfect. I love my doctor, a warm but brisk woman who is genuine and kind. She laughs with me and tells me that she loves talking with me; that I'm always so real. I left there feeling buoyant and grateful.

On the way home, exactly at the place where Rick had his accident, a car ran the stop sign and pulled out in front of me. I jammed on the brakes and thudded to a stop not 3 feet from its passenger side with no time to look in my rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind me. It continued blithely on its way. 

Fortunately, no one was behind me. I merely continued driving down the road behind the person who almost caused me to hit him. We went on that way for about a half mile until that car turned off and I went home. Rick met me on the patio, and I sat down on a chair beside him, suddenly overcome with what had happened.

I told him about the near miss. I told him that right then, what I wanted to do was to go get freshened up and then head over to the neighborhood brewery to get a drink and try to relax. "I was so happy. I got such a good report from the doctor, too. And...it's just that I have so much to lose now," I said, thinking especially of Theo. "It wouldn't even have been my fault."

We soon headed up to the brew pub. A former student of mine, J, is the manager, and we've gotten to know everyone there. I settled in, chatting and sipping, and soon a gentleman and his Chihuahua came in. He grabbed a seat next to us, plopped his dog in one, too, and barked an order for "whatever is six bucks" at the bartender. He then proceeded to complain to J about the high prices "just for one beer. It's ridiculous when you can get a six pack of Pabst or Bud Light for that price." He then turned to Rick and me. "You know what I mean? Don't you think?"

Rick and I both answered. We love supporting small businesses, and we're happy that this brewery moved in and want it to do well. We like the people. We mentioned those things along with the fact that we think C, who is the owner and brewer, is an artisan and makes terrific craft beers. All those things are good for the community/city.

He waved our comments away impatiently. "Oh, I know C. I've been coming here since it opened. But what the heck is he doing, charging so much? And what about cans? Don't you got anything in cans?"

J tried to explain that putting the beer in cans has gotten too expensive, then had to wait on someone else. Rick jumped in and explained that it required paying another company for labor and materials. I explained that because of tariffs, the cost of aluminum is especially prohibitive now, and that C offers refillable glass growlers as an alternative.

I'm sure you can guess what happened next. The buzzword Tariff was all he needed to hear. He automatically assumed all of us were felon rapist supporters, and made a complimentary comment regarding him. Then he said, "I don't know if you're in favor of him or not, but--"

"Not at all," I said. 

"No, we're not," Rick said.

What followed from there was what he wanted to call "just a discussion," but was mainly a sad parroting of ignorance and maga talking points, all of which I deftly, calmly, respectfully refuted, and he countered with blatantly false bullshit. At one point Rick touched my elbow, said "Nance" sotto voce, and tried to get me to stop. "You came here to relax, remember."

But I wasn't going to just stop because that's where we make our mistake. We back down and we shake our head and we just. stop. And to Them, that's a victory. They think they've won, and in a way, they have. So I just kept at him. And at him. I slapped back at all his bullshit and made him eat it. And not once did I lose my temper or my composure or my dignity. Actually, it was like being in the classroom. I had some teaching to do, and I was keeping it real. In about five minutes he took his six-dollar beer and wandered outside. 

One of the bartenders thanked me. Tending bar is a part-time gig for her. She's a federal worker for the VA; she works from home and is terrified she will be in the next round of cuts. My former student J hugged me and told me again that she loves me. The other bartender said, "I was listening to the whole thing. You were great and we hate that guy."

You'd think at this age, I wouldn't have too many epiphanies left, but Wednesday proved that wrong. I've spent 48 years of my life fighting migraines. Each time I get one, I feel a little bit like a failure, but I still fight it and fight it. I've spent longer than that fighting ignorance and injustices big and small. And I've fought in many arenas for the good of my family. And my students. On Wednesday something happened that could have taken it all away, something completely out of my control. That just makes me more determined to fight the battles I can impact that much harder.

*my image, a truck I saw at a train crossing

Wednesday: Weather, Work, And The Wonderful World Of Peanuts

Wednesday morning was cold, grey, and threatening rain. Our forecast looked bleak and foreboding:  more high winds and heavy rain showers were on the way, and we were under a flood watch. When Rick left early for the gym, I grabbed my grocery list and headed out for the store. If I didn't dawdle, I might beat the rain entirely.

Because there weren't too many items on my list, I was able to get through the store in pretty good time. I did have a brief and spirited discussion with a gentleman as I grabbed a bag of raw peanuts in the shell. He wondered why I liked raw peanuts, and I explained that I buy them not for myself, but for the blue jays. "But how do they eat them? Do they bust them out of the shell or eat the shell or what?" he asked, fascinated. I told him, and he was astonished. "I been buying birds the jars of shelled peanuts, and now you tell me I coulda been buying these bags? They's so much cheaper!" 

I didn't have the heart to tell him that, all along, he also could have been buying three-pound bags of shelled, raw peanuts in the bird food aisle up front. Who knows how he'd have taken the news?

Only two cashiers were available this early in the morning, and I didn't know either of them. That's been the rule more than the exception lately. And the employees in general have gotten older. The woman who rang me up was probably in her late 50s/early 60s.

She was pleasant and efficient. "Let me wrap up that meat in a plastic bag before you put it in your bag," she said. "I don't want it to leak, possibly. I used to work in food service, and that has stayed with me."

In the course of me bagging my groceries in my reusable bags, I learned that she:

*was a manager then regional manager for Taco Bell and took many food safety/food science courses

*left that to work in health care and then took care of her husband who had cancer and early-onset Alzheimer's

*worked in various retail jobs and in the service industry

"You've really had a varied career," I said, "and in each job you've had, you really relied on your basic skill set, being organized, efficient, and good at working with people."

"Well, except for working with teenagers when I was their manager," she said. "That about drove me crazy."

I smiled. "I was a high school teacher for 30 years," I said. "I loved it. I love teenagers."

"Oh wow," she said. "You win!"

******

I wasn't thinking about my victory on my way home--I wasn't even aware there had been a competition. Instead, I started thinking about all the jobs I've had and how, perhaps, they've had an impact on me. Here's a list of all the jobs I've had, paid and unpaid, since I started working, starting with babysitting.

1. Babysitting

2. Paper Route

3. Reading Tutor

4. Catechism Teacher

5. Bank Teller

6. Pet Department Clerk

7. Warehouse Worker

8. Substitute Teacher

9. Teacher

10. Freelance Writer/Editor

I do think the majority of these have influenced me, and I have lots of memories--good and bad--about all of them. Maybe I'll write about several of them in subsequent blog posts. Some of you may be curious about #4. (I still can't believe that one myself.)

Is your list of jobs a long one or short? Do you find yourself in conversation in the grocery store? Is there a job that you miss?

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Simple Pleasures And Surprise Joy

 March is here! I'm always glad to leave the -Uary months behind; they're so decidedly part of winter. At least with March, there's a wisp of hope for Spring. Even if there is sn*w, it's usually not long-lasting, and I can feel as if it's more a bug than a feature. (My father always called March's weather Women's Weather since it was so changeable. He was a terrible chauvinist at his core, but he could be surprisingly enlightened about so many things. In truth, he was more Marchlike than he would ever admit. If you're into that sort of thing, he was pretty much The Pisces Man.)

Anyway, we've had plenty of changeable weather here:  a couple of days ago we reached 77 degrees (F), had a stretch of 60's, and today there is bright sunshine, but we're struggling to see 40. Winds have been high and gusty and from all different directions. A couple of days early in the month we had a bit of frozen precipitation, but nothing that required any action or caused me to despair. I'm grateful.

I did have reason to despair recently, however. I ended up with a nasty cold that hung around for about ten days. So aggravating! I hadn't had a cold for years and years. This one really sapped my strength and stamina--so much coughing! Unfortunately, I wasn't able to take walks during some of the really nice weather, but there will be more. And Rick brought out two chairs onto the patio so that we could sit and enjoy the sun and warmth at least.

Last year, we had a landscaping company take out all the stone paths and landscape beds in the back yard and put a lawn back in. (The black walnut tree behind us just kept killing everything, and we spend so much time at the lake in the summer that the maintenance was prohibitive.) I was more than a little regretful about all the daffodils I had planted back there in the beds. They were all different shades of white and pink, and I really looked forward to them as true harbingers of Spring each year (especially after the damn squirrels ate every single one of my tulips the year after I planted them). I consoled myself with the idea that I had a few clutches of them out front, at least.

Well, when the temperatures stayed warm for several days, even overnight, I started seeing shoots of daffodils coming up through the backyard grass! Even where I had never planted any. Some are in the middle of the yard where the flagstone path was, and some are in front of the swing where there was an entire area of flagstone. THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! I grabbed a bunch of plant markers from the garage and stuck them in the ground wherever I saw shoots. I HAVE FIFTEEN MARKERS IN MY BACK YARD WHERE THERE ARE DAFFODILS COMING UP! I am so excited. I feel like Surprise Daffodils are the best daffodils. I can't wait until they have buds and flower. 

It's always nice to have a little something to look forward to, isn't it? And isn't it so very pleasant to be surprised by something simple? I tell my husband often how Very Lucky He Is to have a partner whose Joys are so easily procured and provoked. He doesn't need to shop at Tiffany or Coach or places like that. He can bring me home birdseed, a water lily for our little backyard pond, or some raspberries. Or some really good ice cream. 

I'm really looking forward to those daffodils and getting the pond and waterfall up and running. Maybe we'll put a few fish in it this year for Theo to feed. Surprise fish! That should be fun.

Good Riddance, January! A Celebration With Photos And A New Mantra

January is over, everyone, and I feel great about it. That month lasted approximately eleventy thousand years and was inordinately shitful. Not only did we have a Real Winter the entire month, I had to hear from all the people who were actually happy about it. There's a word for those people, but my Innate Kindness prohibits me from saying it here.

Anyway. 

I'm painfully aware that Things In General are still...Upsetting, (vast understatement) thanks to Certain People. But, to quote Maya, "What I can control is going really well." If that isn't a worthy mantra/goal statement for These Times, then I don't know what is. So I'm going to celebrate a few things right here and right now.

Celebration Photo #1:

This is a photo taken of the beautifully clear sidewalks ahead of me on my walk. Note that there is No Snow to speak of, and not because everyone shoveled. It's because it all melted away. HOORAY! Do you also see all that grass? Isn't it wonderful? I wore my sneakers! And because it was OVER FIFTY DEGREES, I also eschewed my winter coat and fleece-lined leggings and wore a bigass hooded sweatshirt and normal leggings. I walked longer and lighter and it was fantastic.

Celebration Photo #2

Sam came home one day and Zydrunas did not come down to meet him because he was upstairs in bed taking his big nap. (He's an old man now and not as vigilant a watchdog as he used to be.) When Sam went upstairs, he found Z wearing Emily's...garment. She assured me IN ALL CAPS that it is a PAIR OF SHORTS! I told her I was going to tell the entire Internet that it is a pair of her underwear. You decide. Either way, Zydrunas looks a little bit like he'd rather not have been discovered wearing them. I think Dogs are always something to celebrate! 

Celebration Photo #3

This is my car in the carwash. Before this, my shiny black car looked sad and awful. It was the same colour as the roads--whitish grey. I couldn't go to the carwash because it was -100 degrees every damn day and my car suffered. Finally, the weather broke, and Rick took me on a date to get it washed. I absolutely adore the carwash; I never stop getting a kick out of it. I am like a child, and I don't care. I'm also a cheap date.

Is everything wonderful? No, but I'm not talking about that right now. I feel good. I'm walking every day (thank you, Rick, again, for my heated coat!) and loving it. Theo is getting a third tooth and walking, talking, and using ASL, too. I'm spending the day with him on Saturday. What I can control is going really well.

What about you?

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Five On Friday: The Fussypants Edition

 Enough of this Christmas Cheer already. I woke up feeling a little crabby and fussy today, and despite our mild weather and a good, brisk walk, I'm not getting any better. Let's see if I can Write It Out of my system.

1.  Food:  I have a New York Times subscription. It includes access to NYT Cooking and all their recipes. "Oh boy!" one would think. "That sounds like a great resource." Well, it can be, but for the past 18 months, all the food editors can think/write about is gochujang and chili crisp. Before that, everything was about chickpeas. Salmon is featured constantly, and I detest salmon in any form. (That made our Alaska vacation awkward, let me tell you.) Do not get me started on their fixation with kale, which I think tastes like dirt.

2.  Hair:  Once again, I waited too long (no pun intended!) to book a haircut, and now I am in Ugly Mode. Absolutely nothing is working with my hair. The ends are dry and terrible. The layers are too long. It is flat. I have completely butchered my bangs so many times that--what? what can I even say? I am in such Desperation that I dragged out my old hot rollers and tried those with predictably clownish and frightful results. Susie booked me for 11:30 on 3 January thank heavens and she will get a sizeable tip.

3.  Amazon:  I'm happy to say that Rick and I did the vast majority of our Christmas shopping In Real Life and I only used Amazon for a handful of gifts. However, those gifts, although they were ordered on 11 December, did not come until TODAY, 27 December. Sam, whose Christmas shopping is almost done exclusively online and at the very last minute, had all his gifts arrive on time. I struggle to understand WHAT I HAVE LEARNED.

4.  Old:  There is no getting around it; I am Not Young Anymore. I thought I was Perfectly Fine with this fact, but apparently I am NOT. Did you know that, as you age, your body starts aching and bitching when you do stuff you always used to do? Right now, my neck and shoulder hurt a lot. And they have for days and days. So do my feet. Did I do anything different to cause this? No I did not.

5.  Over It:  I want my house back. All this Christmas stuff has got to go. Tomorrow, the tree comes down. Trust me, I don't decorate the house even a tiny fraction of what I used to, but I need the serenity of Things Back To Normal. Things would have been put away today, but Rick is now a Social Butterfly in retirement and had lunch plans and dinner plans today with friends. While he is gone tonight, I am going to take a muscle relaxer, put on my jammies, finish my book, and watch something not at all cerebral on television, and I will take recommendations. 

Are you feeling a little crabby, too? If not, make me feel better in Comments.

The Nature Of Change

 When we decided to buy our house, Jared was just a few months old. We were on a very bare-bones budget, so our plan was to look for the worst house in the best neighbourhood. We found one that fit nicely into our plans for everything:

1.  It was in our budget at $32,500. 

2.  It was mere blocks away from the same schools Rick attended, all of them excellent.

3.  The work it needed could be done by Rick and me.

4.  It was an older home, a sort of Craftsman/Cape Cod built in 1940, that had plenty of charming features, especially all natural woodwork and hardwood floors.

We even lived right across the street from Rick's kindergarten teacher. The boys walked to and from school every day to the very same schools their dad did from elementary school through junior high school.  And they rode to school with me for high school. 

Rick and I live in it still, and we still love it. That hasn't changed. But a great deal else has.

Probably you still haven't closed your jaw since reading that we paid only $32,500 for our house. Even back in 1985, that was a hell of a deal. Our house then was a story and a half, two bedrooms, one bath, and a semi-finished attic room, dining room, living room, kitchen. There was a garage, but there was a huge tree in front of half of it, and it was in pretty bad shape (the garage, not the tree). Full basement, too, unfinished, but dry (at that time).

Houses certainly don't go for that now. We're constantly astonished when we read what homes in our neighbourhood sell for. 

Rick's kindergarten teacher, who you met in 2009 in this post, and learned more about in this one, this one, this one, and finally this one, has been gone for almost ten years now. Her home was a rental for a bit, but soon it went on the market. Its new owners are a young family; they have two little boys. I often watch my new friend Charlotte managing Ollie and Archie and think back to my early days in this house. Astonishingly and poignantly, Charlotte planted rows of marigolds along her front walk. I felt the Universe come full circle.

Sometimes my walk takes me through the parking lot of the elementary school that Rick, Jared, and Sam once attended. It's five blocks from my house. The oldest part of the building is older than my home. It has beautiful brickwork and scrollwork. So many memories are there, but there are no longer any children. Our city built all new schools with levy funding and grant money. They're State Of The Art and safer. They're far more able to handle the demands of new technology and security. They have air conditioning and smart boards and beautiful libraries. 

This school is now owned by the hospital next door, who is leasing it to police, fire, and rescue for school shooter drills and other training. During the pandemic its parking lot held refrigerated trucks for makeshift morgues. I once peeked through its front windows and saw that it looked the same as it did the very day the last kids left it on its final day of school in 2021. I don't do that anymore; it made me sad and uneasy. But I'm so grateful for the time my sons spent there and the memories they made.

Once in a while, people take their dogs to play in the field where the playground equipment used to be. I love to see that. And neighbourhood kids sometimes run and skateboard and bike down the big hill that I walk up briskly to strengthen my knees.

I think about the Nature of Change and how easy it is to mourn for the Past. We miss and grieve for things we can no longer have. It is our nature. Loss feels final to us. We are conditioned to rail against it.

But in so many cases, Loss is not final or fatal. It's merely Change, Metamorphosis; Matter, as we were always taught, can neither be created nor destroyed, merely transformed from one form to another.

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Life Goes On, So Let's Ketchup: Good News, Good Music, Good Dog

 So! November. I put a lot of miles on my walking shoes last month. It's amazing how therapeutic it is. Walking was my way to cope with The Results. I'm not going any farther than that--no need to bring everyone back to that mindset. Let's just say that it's way worse than I felt after Gore, Kerry, and Hillary combined, and as a political activist of many years, I'm cocooning now. Please don't judge. (But do read this; it's enlightening.)

Back to Walking:  I used to walk in silence, appreciating the ambient noises of my neighbourhood. For some reason, however, I began to get bored and frustrated. I didn't feel energized. I began using my earbuds and chose music for my sojourns, varying my playlists among the music I grew up with and loved in my earlier life. Now I feel so much more spry, briskly striding to The Beatles, Genesis (whose catalog is excellent for walking), and an eclectic mix of artists from Aretha Franklin to Bruce Springsteen. I still carry dog biscuits in my pocket, just in case, and even in this cold weather, I'm out there (thank you, Rick, for my heated coat).

Good News:  Sam and Emily vacationed in Hawaii and got engaged. Emily has been part of our family for years already, so we couldn't be happier. Theo had his first birthday. He celebrated with Jared and Jordan in Pittsburgh, where he visited the Children's Museum. On Thanksgiving Day, J&J hosted. Some of her family came into town from out West, so we all got to celebrate Theo's birthday together as well as have a terrific feast. Jared made his first turkey ever (he brined it), and it was tremendous. So much to be Thankful for!

More Good News:  Rick semi-retired in November, going part-time, but at his full salary. His boss is so kind and generous. As of January 1st, he will officially be retired. Rick has been working since the age of 15 and mostly in construction, so I'm very happy for him. The boys are, too. Sam's first reaction was, "Dad. Mom lives a very quiet life. And she really likes it. Just saying." That boy knows his mother! And it is true that it'll be a big transition for Rick and me both--it already has been. His part-time schedule is Mondays and Fridays off, so we are already navigating what shared space and shared time* look like. (Sam has also lamented that he will be the only one in the family who has to get up and go to work, a singularity that he feels keenly.)  *I will always walk and go grocery shopping alone. 

Random Splotches:  Here's where I use up what could be short blogpost topics, mainly because I might forget them later.

*I think Heaven & Earth Grocery Store is going to be a DNF for me. I find myself annoyed and disconnected when I read it. I'm over you, James McBride, once and for all. Nothing personal.

*There's a new Beatles doc out, but it's on Disney+. I don't have that. I guess I'm going to have to pay 10 bucks for a month just to watch that one thing. There's no free or cheap trial because I already have Hulu. I'm going to have to swallow my disdain for Disney and pay it. Sigh. (But I still love Winnie the Pooh. Oh bother.)

*Speaking of Hulu--if any of you have watched the last season of Only Murders in the Building, were you as disappointed in it/its quality as I was? I thought it was terrible and jumped the proverbial shark.

*I'm having a terrible, TERRIBLE time finding Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt. As in, nowhere around me carries it and I had to order it off Amazon. The box I got was clearly marked "Not packaged for retail. For Food Service Use." I feel like a criminal. 

*Finally, another Dog Show has come and gone, and still the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever has not made it into the final round, let alone won Best In Show. The fix is in, and why Canadians aren't doing something about it is beyond me.

Thanks to those of you who kept writing in November. I appreciate you. 

Six Questions

 

Thank goodness for Ally Bean, who gave me something to write about. I'm not feeling particularly Thinky or Inspired lately, so I'm borrowing from her latest post in which she asks and answers some questions about herself. She chose ten from an interview that she read, and I'll see how far I get, depending upon how much I want to chat about each one. I've altered the wording of some questions to better suit my purposes. Let's go.

1. What is a character trait you most dislike in yourself?

Oh, just one? I am not as patient as I'd like. Many people are very surprised by this, especially knowing that I was a teacher for thirty years. Perhaps that's where I used it all up. I find myself always feeling impatient, as if I'm in a terrific hurry:  in the car; in the checkout line; doing tasks at home. I have no idea why. I'm rarely on a schedule or deadline. Fortunately, I rarely show my impatience, so few people even know. 

2. What is a character trait you most dislike in others?

Again, just one? I'd have to say Willful Ignorance. I have the hardest time with stupid people, and with stupid women especially. I get so tired of hearing about Undecided Voters in this election or people who say they don't ever watch the news because it's too depressing or people who say they don't vote because it doesn't matter anyway. I just want to light those people on fire. 

3. Describe yourself in three words.

Intelligent. Kind. Concerned.

4. What do you most dislike about your appearance?

The dreaded menopot/meno belly, that little belly that won't go away now, no matter what. If I hadn't grown up with weight issues, it probably wouldn't be such A Thing with me. Thanks to so much fixation on and bullying about my weight when I was a kid, it's something that has become ingrained. Even when I was ill and size 0 clothes hung on me, I didn't have a realistic perception of my appearance and looked for bulges. To this day, when I see my reflection or a photograph of me, I don't recognize myself; I have no real idea of what I look like. Other than that, I'm pretty happy about how I look, despite the signs of normal aging. I decided long ago that I'd age as gracefully as I could and not be a big baby about it.

5. If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose?

Civility and decorum in the public square. I can pinpoint exactly when rudeness and disrespect took over our Politics, and no, it wasn't when the adjudicated rapist descended his golden escalator. It was the moment when republican representative from South Carolina, Joe Wilson, shouted "You lie!" at then-President Obama during a speech to a joint session of Congress. At first, the retribution was swift and strong:  both parties condemned the action; his own wife called him an idiot; he apologized. Later, however, he had a change of heart and fundraised off the moment, appealing to the worst elements of the party, a faction which has only grown stronger since then.

I'd also like to include in this what I call the Great Casualization Of America. I'm so tired of seeing people wearing pajamas and slippers in public. I hate seeing men wearing baseball caps in restaurants and anyone wearing flipflops or crocs unless they're gardening or boating or on the beach. I can only imagine what is being flipped and flopped up into my food or produce. America:  where khakis are the new tuxedo. Sigh. (And longtime readers know how I feel about feet. Ugh.)

I don't want to end on a low note, and this is getting longish, so let's do one more and leave it at that.

6. Who is your celebrity crush?

Oh, we've talked about this before. Actually, I just talked about this yesterday on Football Sunday over at Sam's house, a quieter affair since Jared, Jordan, and Theo weren't there. (Theo is growing so fast that they had to take the day to go buy him warm clothes.) Not only was there an ad for the new Dylan movie starring Timothee Chalamet, but the Browns were playing, so I could gaze at Myles Garrett. 

Nance:  Oh, Timothee Chalamet. He's just beautiful. And he does all the singing in this film.

Rick and Sam:  (no response; Rick is dozing; Sam is feeding Zydrunas some tortilla chips)

Nance:  You know, I'm old enough to be his Nana. Myles Garrett's, too. (sighs) I don't care. They're just beautiful to look at.

Sam:  Wait. If you could be their Nana, that means I could be...their DAD?! How could that work?

Nance:  They're 27. Their moms would have had to have them at like 19 or something. It has nothing to do with you right now. 

Sam:  Oh. Okay.

(Poor Sam--the Browns continue to look just awful this season. He cannot handle anything else during games.)

Now it's your turn. I can't wait to hear from you in Comments.

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Clearing Out My Cranial Clutter: Drugs For The Elderly, The Dress, And Marcel's Philosophy On Blog Comments

 Let's start right in, shall we?

After three days of suffering a vicious migraine that my meds would not even touch, I called my neurologist for a cycle breaker. This is a steroid med pack (6 the first day, 5 the next, and so on). I put on my sunglasses and drove the short distance to CVS to pick it up and gobbled the first 6 in the parking lot like an addict needing her fix. It was only when I got home that I looked at the attached paperwork and saw this very Disheartening missive:

I am the Older Adult In The Combination

Because I have reached The Magic Number, I'm now asked a bunch of questions I never got a year ago. Like Do you feel safe at home? (Honestly, I think every patient in the ER should be asked if they feel safe at home, don't you?) Anyway, so much for the whole Age is just a number philosophy.

 
Some of you asked to see my dress for Jared and Jordan's wedding. The photo isn't very good, but here it is:

Just imagine my head, arms, and legs poking out, and my feet wearing great shoes

What you can't see is that the skirt is split at the side wrap with cascading ruffles, and the front is shorter than the back, like a cutaway. Here is a link to the actual dress online, but it's not that great of a photo, either. Regardless, there it is. 

One more note about the wedding. Last weekend, Rick and I hosted the family along with Jared and Jordan's parents at the lakehouse before they had to fly back to Colorado. We talked more about the wedding, and I said I realized I didn't cry a single tear during the whole thing. Not one (and I had even bought waterproof mascara). Jordan said, "I know. I was watching you. You were so incredibly calm. But you were radiating Joy." I agreed. I said that I simply felt complete--contented and complete. I knew that everything was right and perfect about their marriage. I felt like I was watching the natural next step, the culminating event. I was just so happy.

Finally, during my Migraine Days this week, I was edgy and restless. I couldn't do much, but I didn't want to just sit in a darkened, silent room. I could read on and off, or watch television if it was something quiet. I found the movie Marcel The Shell With Shoes On, a film which had intrigued me a while ago, but I had forgotten about.

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 It's a lovely little film with an endearing protagonist and a dear, yet important, message that resonated with me. And it expresses my philosophy about blogging, specifically the Comments section.

Over at Kyria's place, several bloggers spoke about not answering Comments at all, and others spoke about not checking back to even see if their Comments had been answered. To be blunt, I find that dismissive and rude.

In the film, Marcel reluctantly goes online to find his family. Instead of receiving help, he gets fans and followers. At one point, he says something like, "This is an audience, not a community." And that's what those kinds of blogs are to me. People who don't engage with their commenters are just looking for an audience, not a community. Wouldn't a Like button serve the same purpose for them? I don't know. I know that I choose carefully who I read and want to spend time with.

Thank you for spending time with this broken down, yet joyful, old lady who feels quite safe in her home (both of them). 

Have you reached a Milestone Birthday, and did it come with some unexpected baggage? Have you seen Marcel The Shell With Shoes On? Do you cry at weddings? Chat with me (and everyone else!) in Comments. 

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

When I was in junior high and high school, I used to write my own Excuse For Absence notes and sign my mother's name. I had her full permission, always. She rarely wanted to take the time to do this herself, so she was happy to have someone else do it. Trying to get all of us to eat something in the morning and get us out the door to school was enough of a project without adding to the process. It is entirely possible that I wrote my brother's and sister's as well. Anyway, consider this post my Excuse For Absence from this space for the last four months.

In May I celebrated a milestone birthday, becoming an Official Old Lady. Thank you all (in the USA) for your contributions to the government coffers so that I can be a Medicare recipient (even though it took many irritating phone calls and one morning of standing in line in the cold sleet to prove to a clerk that I was worthy).

June found Rick and me in Niagara-on-the-Lake again, celebrating with our friends at our favourite winery and restocking our cellar. I started looking in earnest for a dress to wear for Jared and Jordan's wedding in September, a mission which proved to be nearly impossible. My requirements:  long or 3/4-length sleeves, lightweight, not clingy or tight, not black, not high-necked; and harmonious to the wedding colours of burgundy, gold, navy, pumpkin. 

The whole family spent Independence Day Weekend at the lake house. It was wonderful. Theo loves the boat, and we had so much fun together. To make it even more special, Theo said Mama for the first time ever! Once he realized the power of saying it, he couldn't stop. July ended with me actually finding my dress--two of them, in fact. The family came over one day, and I let them choose between the two. They all chose the same one. (It was the one I liked the least.) Here's the best part--I got it online from TJ Maxx on clearance for about twenty bucks. 

Another note from July--Unfortunately, in this month I also had a terrible fall. I was on a 6-foot fiberglass ladder on our new concrete patio taking a bird nest off the gutter. The ladder failed--it actually split near the bottom--and I fell about 5 feet. I never lost consciousness or broke anything, but when I felt my head, it was wet, and when I looked at my hand, it was full of blood. Luckily, I always have my phone, and it landed right next to me. I called Sam, who was at home three doors down, and he came right over to take me to the ER. I ended up with a mild concussion and five staples in my head. Thank goodness they didn't have to shave any hair off! It didn't take me long to recover at all.

View from my bed in the hallway, parked in front of this

In August we only made it to the lake one day. We were so busy with wedding things and babysitting Theo, who is such a happy, goodnatured baby. Rick finally got his insurance settlement from his accident three years ago. It was less than what we had hoped for, but at least this case is finally over. If Rick were younger, they said, the amount would have been more, but because he is 65, the lingering effects of injury won't have as great of an impact on the (shorter) remainder of his life. Insurance companies, huh? Nice.

Rick mowed, we took a boat ride, and then ate ice cream for dinner before going home.

On September 1st Jared and Jordan were married in the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. The ceremony was a very personal one, a perfect reflection of them both. I did a reading from Jane Eyre, a favourite book of theirs (and mine!)--an excerpt from Chapter 27, a bit of Mr. Rochester's impassioned speech. Their vows, which they each wrote themselves, were poignant and funny. And at the reception, Jared and I danced to "I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders.  Sam gave a heartfelt Best Man speech that made everyone know what a strong and special bond he and Jared have and just how seamlessly Jordan fits into it. It was such a joyful day. Oh, and Theo came down the aisle pulled in a wagon that gave Jared and Sam countless rides around their neighborhood so many years ago.

The next day we picked up Theo and brought him home with us for a few days while the newlyweds went on the Bourbon Trail for their mini-moon. I was catapulted back into my past, caring for a baby again, waking up at 5:30, making bottles, feeding, diapering, bathing, strollering, and watching the magic of a baby's body completely relax and give in to sleep in my arms. Sam came over every day at lunch and after work, much to Theo's delight. They are completely smitten with one another. When it came time to take him home and deliver him to his other grandparents, awaiting Jared and Jordan's return, I felt a real sense of loss (and exhaustion!). 

😢I miss that little boy.

This is a long-winded post, and I'm leaving lots of stuff out, mainly some Not So Good stuff. We all have those things that knock us off our moorings and take us out of ourselves for a time. The important thing is that we celebrate and remember The Good Stuff. 

As of August, I've been writing here for 19 years. A few of you have been with me for the whole time, and the sheer math of that astonishes me. You are dear friends to me now, and I'm grateful to have met some of you in person. I feel a sense of connection and camaraderie with my regular Commenters and Writers, too. We are a loyal and supportive clan, and I look forward to spending time with each of you every morning as I start my day. Now, I feel like my Real Life is back, and I am, too. Thanks for reading, and thanks for your affirming presence. Never forget that words are a beacon for many.

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Let's Ketchup--Er, Catch Up: The Flu, The Baby, The Experiment, The Siren Song Of Confectionery Snacks

 

Gosh, it's been a while, hasn't it? To quote one of my favourite lines from The Last of The Mohicans, "Things were done. Nobody was spared." Let's do an Olde Fashionde CatchUp wherein I foolishly use up a whole lot of topics, each of which could have been its own blog post.

(*)The Dreaded Illness--I'm just now feeling better more than a week after coming down with a vicious gastro bug. It left me feeling weak, sore, fatigued, and desperate. Rick got it immediately the day after I did and so did Sam, who lunches here daily. Whenever I get ill, I become irrationally angry. That does not help with Recovery. I also stay impatient to become well. Did I have my regular flu shot? But of course. Did everyone get well before I did? But of course. Did I miss some beautiful walking weather? Please. Upside:  I am about ten pounds lighter. 

(*) Theo!--Theo went on a business trip to Florida and stayed at a resort with his parents. Jordan's company paid for Jared and him to accompany her while she had to be there for meetings, etc. He was, in the words of his father, "a rockstar for the whole trip." Rick and I babysat for him while J&J went to Cleveland for a matinee performance of Funny Girl, and he was perfect:  all smiles, chuckles, and cuddles, and nary a fuss for Nana and Grandpa. He will be four months old in about a week. He is a cute little roundheaded boy and I wish I could show you one picture. Note:  I think I took my first airplane trip when I was about eighteen. Just saying.

 (*)History Bears Me Out--Every so often I just cannot take it anymore and I perform The Experiment, even though I know it's Not Good For Me. Even though I know that all it does is raise my cortisol levels and make me crazy.  I mentioned The Experiment before, in this blog post way back in 2006. It just goes to show you that I don't learn from my own suffering. Anyway, this is a photo of my latest Experiment:

That bag of jellybeans behind the candy jar is EMPTY. Rick filled his candy jar after I went to bed--desperately ill--and left that empty bag there. FOR OVER A WEEK. He looked at it every day FOR OVER A WEEK and did nothing. Meanwhile, I refused to throw it away because of The Experiment and my own Disappointment and Frustration. Which leads me to History, and this article from the Smithsonian Magazine, which is titled What Is the Dominant Emotion in 400 Years of Women's Diaries? I bet I don't have to tell you, do I, Women At Large? Hint:  It is Frustration.

(*) Warning! Do Not Ever Make This--Remember how I made Christmas Toffee with mini pretzels and said I was going to try it with potato chips? Well, I did. 

Do not do this. Do not use Wavy Lays to capture every bit of the buttery, brown sugary wonderfulness. And instead of putting the semisweet chips on top of the pan of hot toffee-covered potato chips, do not instead melt the chocolate and drizzle it on. And don't sprinkle a bit more flaky salt on top. Because, after the requisite cooling and breaking, you will sit with the entire bowl of these and eat them ashamedly and continuously. Black Box Warning:  They are the Siren Song Of Confectionery Snacks. 

There. I think you're all caught up. Let's chat in Comments.