Ballpark Brownies

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Some Caretaker Thoughts

This blog site is no longer operational. Currently, this post (Caregiving - when I feel like my best is not enough) is only available at my NEW SITE HERE.  Re-pin this post with its new URL, so you don't lose it! 

A Band of Brothers...and One Sister

I attended the coolest event last week.  It was a celebration of WWII veterans who live at my parents' assisted living facility.   Most, if not all, of the residents at Southland are in the WWII age bracket, and for all the things they struggle to remember...they are very clear on their war experiences.

This event was hosted by a local hospice center in cooperation with the Veteran's Administration.  Two VA liaisons and former veterans themselves hosted the presentation.   They spoke briefly of their experiences in Afghanistan and the Gulf war and then opened the floor to the WWII vets to share whatever they wanted.

My dad was the first one on his unsteady feet.  He spent two years on the U.S.S. New York and was elated to attend the commissioning of the new U.S.S. New York ship in New York city a few years ago.  The new ship included 7.5 tons of steel from the rubble of the World Trade Center towers.

Dad with the commander of the new U.S.S. New York in '09

Dad shared a bit about being a medic and how important it was to him to be a part of the Navy at that time.  Another fellow spoke, and then another.  No one spoke very long, just a few words like:

"It was hard."

"I'm glad it's over."

"We won."

This generation of men is a stoic, non-whiny group.  They served because it was the right thing to do.  They didn't question it, and they didn't complain. 

The liaisons also honored the wives of the vets.  One wife spoke about how the military screened all the mail coming home at that time, and she used to get letters from her husband with sentences and words blacked out.  She pieced together the messages anyway.  She said she understood the bigger mission of protecting everyone involved. 

The most touching part of the event was when the liaisons asked if any women residents had been active duty.  My mom's thin, 92-year old hand rose.  The only one in the room.  She had served the Navy for two years in the field of intelligence.   She then added, "I was just a secretary, but our work was classified.  We knew where all the ships were."

She mentioned that one colleague, by mistake, had sent a message for several ships to return to Pearl Harbor.  She then shook her head, implying those ships were likely lost in the attack to come. 

It was quite a journey down memory lane for these veterans and the visitors listening.  We don't regularly think of the warriors who've fought before us unless we set aside time to do so.

Every veteran was given an American flag pin and a salute.  I was not fast enough with the camera to catch the salute given my father, but here are the liaisons honoring my mom.

 It made me well up.

Mom receives her pin.

More words of gratitude were given, and then a blessing was bestowed on those who served. 

My patriotic Dad

The WWII-ers with my handyman, who was career Air Force

It was all so touching.

And then, there was cake.

Love the image!

I'm a softie for veterans and dessert. 

Thanks to all who have served, or are serving.  I pray, when you are 80+, you, too, receive a salute and some cake.  It's the least we can do.

The Times...they are A-changing (ITWW)

                                
Into the Word Wednesday was created by these inspirational women.  Check out their links and join in if you'd like!                       

Laura and Falen at  Upward not Inward
Sarah at Fontenot Four

Kelly at The Houtz House Party

Becky at Tales For Ashes

Kelly at Exceptionalistic

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Here in Florida, people voted for local officials yesterday.  As I filled out my ballot, of course I thought about the presidential election in November.  Leaders change every few years, whether we like it or not.  People move in and out of Washington.  Taxes go up and then down.  Wall Street thrives and then sinks.  Some days it rains; some days it doesn't.

Gasoline used to be a buck a gallon, and stamps were a nickle.  We used to actually need stamps.   

Jennifer Aniston is getting married for the second time.  Tom Cruise is divorcing for the third time.  Michael Phelps is retiring.

As an Air Force wife, I moved eight times.  I grew up hating garbanzo beans; now I love them.  Chrysler is going to stop making the PT Cruiser, my favorite car.  For a short period of time in my adult life, I was a size 12.  (How sweet it was.)  

Stuff changes.  Every day.  Sometimes we like things better; sometimes we don't.  (I still miss Lost.)  This life is a series of transitions.  Elbert Hubbard said, "Life is just one damn thing after another." 

All this change is hard on the human heart, because people like comfort and familiarity.  It's easier when things go as expected.  We feel safer.  Unfortunately, we're often disappointed, because circumstances, even people, are not permanent. 

Luckily, as I was reminded in my morning devotional today....our loving God is unchanging.  He doesn't pause, waver, or renege.  What He says, will be.  One way or another.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.    Heb.13:8

Of old, you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands.  They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment....and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end.    Ps. 102:25-27

My heart rejoices in this.  It gives me a place to land when nothing else seems solid.

The older I get, the more tenuous life seems.  I see my mom and dad (92 and 89) decline almost weekly, and I know the time is coming when they will be gone.  In all of eternity, we are on this planet a very short time.  From plump, baby flesh to loose, delicate skin, we move from phase to phase until our time here is finished.   There are a lifetime of transitions - losses and gains - in between.

If we let Him, God guides and shelters and provides along the journey.   His life force is steady and strong and permanent.  Everything else is fluid and eventually fades.

I used to jog.  Then, I needed back surgery, so now it's walking for me.  I used to teach; now I write.  My blood used to be thin and fat-free.  Now, it's thicker and clumpy, so I take a pill that helps. 

Mom used to help me bathe.  Now, I help her. 

Nothing stays the same.

Except God.

What changes/transitions in life have you found difficult?  What transitions have been rewarding?

Happy Birthday, Bob!

Today is my husband's birthday.  I'm re-posting my birthday love note to him from last year, because these are still some of my favorite things about him. 

I made him brownies for breakfast.  

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Today is my husband's birthday. 

Last year, I wrote him a limerick; this year, he wanted another one.  I told him limericks are intense, time-consuming, brain-racking work, and the laundry was really backed up this week.  (Besides, I had another idea.)

He said OK. 

I directed him to last year's limerick (CLICK HERE) , which he may or may not look at.  He doesn't really like re-runs.

This year, I wanted to write something else.  

A Baker's Dozen Reasons Why I Love the Birthday Boy. 

1. He's OK with not getting a second birthday limerick.

2.  He washes my car.  Regularly.  Shines the tires and everything.  He claims it runs better when it's clean. 

3.  He's tender and kind with people over 80, particularly our parents and the Bingo crowd at Southland Suites. 

4.  In the Trent/Smalley personality test, he's a Golden Retriever.  Which means he's easy-going, dependable, loyal, and humorous.  All wonderful traits.  He's actually better than a Golden Retriever because he doesn't eat off the floor or poop in the yard.

5.  He's a patriotic guy who loved serving in the Air Force.  During his active duty years, when he had a day off, my father always asked him who was protecting the country.

6.  He wells up watching Extreme Makeover and Secret Millionaire.  When the big reveal comes at the end of the show...oh my.  We both start blinking.  There's something beautiful about tears in a man's eyes.

7.  He can make up stuff faster than anyone I know.  When our daughter was about 10, she wanted to know why urine is always yellow.  My husband replied that urine is waste, so the good things our body needs from the food we eat aren't yellow, but other colors.  Like purple.
"So vitamins are purple?" our daughter wondered.
"Yep," he said.

8.  He's an advocate kind of boss.  As a manager, he's the first to offer words of encouragement to his peeps.  He helps employees advance and succeed.  This makes me very proud.

9.  He can chop up any member of the gourd family that I bring home.  Acorn squash, butternut squash, spaghetti squash, or pumpkin.  He has wrists of steel.

10.  He's generous.  He's not stingy about money or stuff.  In fact, he sometimes offers up resources we don't even have.  How sweet is that.

11.  He supports everything I ever want to do.  From challenging the county school board to making copious misshapen, fairly useless pottery bowls in art class. 

12.  He brings me chocolate, even when I tell him not to. 

13.  He still makes me laugh.  He always has, but after 33  35 almost 37 years of marriage, that is still a wonderful blessing.

Happy birthday, good guy husband!  I hope your day is wonderful!

love,
you know who  

In and Out (ITWW #5)

                                       

Into the Word Wednesday was created by these inspirational women.  Check out their links and join in if you'd like! 
                        
                                   Falen and Laura at Upward, not Inward

Sarah at Fontenot Four

Kelly at The Houtz House Party

Becky at Tales For Ashes

Kelly at Exceptionalistic

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I took my 89 year-old dad to the ER this morning.  He fell out of his wheel chair Sunday afternoon and landed on his left side.  He rested yesterday, but this morning, his shoulder was really hurting.  I tried to get an appointment with his primary care doc, so we could get an order for an X-ray.

No go.  It's a policy of Dad's doc that when an elderly person in an ALF falls, they have to go to the ER.   Neither Dad nor I wanted to go through the ER, as it takes hours to get seen, and Dad almost always ends up being admitted.  He has several health issues, and I think the ER docs are understandably cautious.

But, it was our only option, so I grabbed several issues of Time magazine, and we drove to the ER.  

Amazingly, Dad was placed in a room within ten minutes.   Before the nurse had completed her paperwork, a physician walked in.  She got Dad's story, examined him and ordered some X-rays.  I hadn't even opened my first magazine.

As soon as the doc left, a tech appeared to take blood and then wheeled Dad to radiology.  I thought, are we at the right hospital?  Am I dreaming?

While Dad was gone, I read two articles in Time - a story on the economy, and a Gabby Douglas profile.  What a darling young woman. 

Within twenty minutes, the doc returned with good news - no broken bones, no head trauma.  Coumadin was a little low.  Follow up with the primary physician on that.  Thanks for stopping in, good luck, and see ya.

Dad was wheeled back in, and I helped him redress.   We chatted for ten minutes before the discharge nurse appeared.  Dad signed two papers, and we were ready to go.

As I walked outside to pull the car up to the entrance, I thought, it's only been two hours from start to finish.  In and out of the ER in two hours.  In the history of the universe, this has never happened.  A news team should be here. 

On the ride home, Dad and I marveled at the experience. 

1.  A two-hour ER visit; no broken bones (just a contusion); no internal bleed; no admission papers; no hospital food.  
2.  Kind, efficient medical personnel; no waiting, no waiting, no waiting.

Dad and I decided Tuesday morning was the ideal time to visit the ER.

On this Into the Word Wednesday, I wanted to share my perfect ER experience and thank God for the ride.  Two Wednesdays ago, I was in the dumps and wrote a gripey post.

But, I know this - God wasn't with us any less two weeks ago than He was today.  He wasn't blessing me any more today than He was two weeks ago.   His love and guidance are constant.  They are not based on circumstances.  I just lose sight of that when the world throws me a curve ball.  Because, in the flesh, I'm wobbly and easily distracted.  Life can knock me over like a twig.  And Dad, too, apparently.

This morning, for whatever reason, there were no curve balls.   And I thank God for that.

Dad and me last year

What I Did on my Summer Vacation

Wow, what happened to summer break?

I know it's over, because our daughter, the teacher, went back to school on Wednesday.  She taught high school science for six years, but after three years of religious formation, she's now teaching high school religion.  Who says religion and science don't mix?   This girl is equally right and left brained, so I know she'll somehow link Atoms and Eve.  

She got all these school supplies for about thirty bucks at Toys R Us.   There's going to be a lot of coloring and pasting in religion class.  

Another sign summer is fading is that our garden, which was hearty in June....

...is now...well...not so hearty.

All we have left are green tomatoes, brown leaves, and several dirty plant tags.  I hope the 'maters ripen, because that gives me an excuse to buy bacon.  'Bacon' is not normally a word we speak in this household.

We had a little mishap in the steamy heat this summer.  My PT Cruiser had a flat tire.  OK, I swiped a curb too close, and the tire sprung a leak.  A really fast one that deflated the tire in about two minutes.  My girl and I were in the Kohl's parking lot, so we didn't have to push the car off the road, thank God.

We did the best we could to change the thing.  Well, the religion teacher worked hard while I took pictures.

We eventually reached the limit of what we could do, then called our Knight in Shining Armor, who took a break from jousting practice to get us back on the road.

I'm grateful to have a man in my life who can fix most anything, and I don't mind calling on him.  If this makes me a weak, dependent, I'd-rather-take-pictures-than-change-a-tire kind of woman....I'm OK with that. 

With the donut tire on the Cruiser, the Knight advised us to head straight home.  We said we'd finish shopping first.   It just made sense.  The car was just sitting there, not driving on the donut.  The Knight just shook his head and galloped off.

My daughter and I had a girl's night this summer as well, where we house-sat for a friend.  We watched Step Mom and ate glorious summer cherries and cleaned the friend's linen closet.  I also did sock curls on my girl's head before she got her hair cut the next day.

Sock curling (not to be confused with Olympic curling) is something I found on Pinterest.  We Googled it to learn more and then laughed our way through the process.

The great thing about the socks is they're soft to sleep on (and they give you a Basset Hound feeling.)  In the morning, we had loose, soft curls.  

Which are now gone, because teachers can't be fiddling with long hair during the school year.  But, boy, did we have fun.  

Another thing that got a summer haircut was our backyard scrub oak.  It had grown higher than the house and was taking over the roof.  It took about five hours to trim it back from this...

...to this.  

I'm thinking our garden will do better next summer, now that the oak isn't blocking the sunlight.  One can always hope.  

One final summer pic.  Here in Florida, there is a strip of land called Merritt Island.  On this magical piece of soil, the best mangoes in the U.S. grow.  In mango season, you can drive along the island and find baskets of mangoes for cheap.  

I have to be careful with mangoes, because I'm allergic to urshiol, the allergen just under the mango skin.  (For that story, click: HERE.)  But, if I scrub well after the peeling process, I'm in mango heaven.  I picked up a few Merritt Island mangoes this week and have been over-dosing on them since.  

Aren't they gorgeous?  I think the snake tempted Eve with a mango.  They flourish in tropical gardens like Paradise (the LOST survivors were always eating mangoes,) and apples can be resisted.  They're OK, but they're not mangoes. 

And, so the summer fades into the school year.  Thanksgiving will be here before we know it.  

Tortilla Stack

This recipe is more a method than a specific formula.  The first version I saw of this was at Peas and Crayons Blog.  I've altered it to suit our tastes, and every time I make it, it's a bit different.  

You can build this "stack" with many different ingredients and quantities, depending on what you like and what you have on hand.  What I've listed here are the items we most generally use.

 

Flour or corn tortillas – 3-4

Taco meat, prepared according to seasoning packet.  You can also use shredded chicken, or beef.  (Vegetarian version – substitute cooked brown rice for animal protein.)

Onions, garlic, cabbage, sliced thin and sauteed.  Season with cumin to taste.

Can of refried beans, mixed with jar salsa until desired thinness.  

½ can black beans, drained.

½ can corn, drained.

Grated cheese

Shredded lettuce, diced red pepper, chopped tomatoes, and ½ can black olives, drained and chopped.  Sour cream, diced avocado or guacamole (if desired.)

DIRECTIONS:

Spray baking pan with Pam.  Lay one tortilla on pan.  Spread on about 1/3 of all these ingredients:  refried beans, black beans, the meat/rice, the onion mixture, the corn, and the cheese.  

Lay another tortilla on top.  Repeat the layering sequence until all of these ingredients are used.  (Reserve some cheese for top.)

On last (top) tortilla, spread some salsa to keep top layer moist. Top with cheese.  Bake in 325 degree oven until the stack is warmed through and the cheese is melted, 20-25 minutes.  Remove from oven and top with lettuce, red pepper, tomatoes, and olives.  

Dollop with sour cream/avocado/guacamole, if desired.  

Into the Word #4 (The Missing Peace)

Into the Word Wednesday was created by these inspirational women.  Check out their links and join in if you'd like!                           
                                   Falen and Laura at Upward, not Inward

Sarah at Fontenot Four

Kelly at The Houtz House Party

Becky at Tales For Ashes

Kelly at Exceptionalistic

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Last night, after watching the Olympics until midnight (I'm going to be dragging until they're over,) I went to take my evening meds and discovered the extra samples I'd just received from my doctor were missing.  

I looked every place they should have been, and they were not there.  I looked in places where they could have been, but they weren't there either.  Then, I started looking in places I knew they weren't, like under sofa cushions and in the refrigerator.   No samples.  Then, getting more frazzled, I looked in all those places again. 

I finally went to bed about 1 a.m. without taking my dose of Niaspan, because I couldn't find it.  I've been on this pill one week.  I did not get to sleep until 3 a.m., because I kept thinking, what happens if I suddenly stop this pill?  I stayed awake, wondering if I was breathing differently, if my heart was skipping, if my blood was getting thicker.  Anxiety-ridden stuff.  I was also kicking myself for not remembering what I did with the next three weeks of sample packets.  

This morning, I started all over again.  I looked in the same places I'd looked before, thinking maybe at 1 a.m. I simply didn't see the samples packets that were staring me in the face.  Nothing.  

When my daughter got up, I asked her if she'd seen the samples.   Yeah, she said, a week ago.  She helped me look.  She looked in all the places I'd looked and even searched the two cars.  I sifted through the trash and the recycling bin.  I got more and more disgusted with myself.   I was dreading having to call my doctor and explain I'd lost the month's worth of free medication she was so kind to give me.  I was so worked up.  And, so irritated with my limited, clearly diminishing memory. 

Suddenly, my girl came from the guest room, waving the sample packets in exultation.  "I found them!"

We hugged and danced around, and she took me to the guest room closet where we store our back stock of groceries and paper goods (we're couponers.)  There, they had been.  Right next to the eye vitamins and two boxes of Russell Stover's chocolates. 

"Thank you, Jesus!" I kept saying.  

"Thank you, St. Anthony (the saint of missing things)!" my daughter kept saying.  

We were two happy girls.  I felt the cinder block slide off my chest.  I'm telling you, I was in a tizzy. 

I wrapped up some things and then sat down with my daily devotional.   Here's what it said:

Trust Me in the depths of your being.  When you feel flustered and frazzled on the outside, do not get upset with yourself.  You are only human, and the swirl of events going on around you will sometimes feel overwhelming.  Rather than scolding yourself for your humanness, remind yourself that I am both with you and within you.  

                                                                            Jesus Calling, Sarah Young 

I laughed out loud.  How closely God watches us and knows our frustrations.  How crazy I get when I misplace things, run late, get buried beneath the clutter.  My tolerance for life's headaches is very low. Thank God, God is unaffected by the world's chaos.  His peace is constant and unwavering and available for the asking.  

My prayer for all of us today (particularly me) is that when life gets frustrating, we remember God is unflappable, and we, too, can be.  Being upset or crazy doesn't help us solve a problem any faster.  In fact, it can curtail clear thinking and exasperate the issue.   

We all know people who have a calm, steady nature and, when faced with a challenge, simply work the problem.  I want to be like that.  It's clearly not my nature, but with God's help, I hope to reduce the number of melt-downs. 

What circumstances aggravate you?  Are you able to maintain an inner peace while resolving a problem?   If so, what helps you do that?   

Frazzled minds would like to know.