The One About the Finger Injury, Birthing Goats, and Green Yarn

My Cousin is one of the most fascinating and beautiful folks I know.

Wait.  Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

So Saturday night, after a lovely afternoon of painting and then a massive trip to the grocery store, I came home to unload and start supper.  I wasn’t doing the best I could do, and I cut my finger.  No blame anywhere except myself.  I was tired, I wasn’t paying attention and slice–right through my left ring finger on the side up near the nail.

Bleeding. For days.

Okay.  I exaggerate.  Slightly.

It bled for an hour.  Which can seem like an eternity when it’s your blood.  I put ice and pressure on it and every single time I checked it, it started right back to flowing forth.

Anxiety Girl came and sat down on the couch with me where I sat trying to stop the bleeding and keep my finger elevated.  She shook her head at me, and then she whispered, “So you think this could finally be IT?  I mean, that’s a lot of blood coming out of there.  You might even need stitches.  You probably are feeling a bit woozy, light-headed, huh?”

And you know what?  She was RIGHT.  I was feeling dizzy.  Just how much blood had I lost? Could you lose too much blood through a finger cut?

I finally did what I’ve done for close to three years now.

Without my Mama to talk me down and tell me what to do, I called my Cousin, because she’s all about the healing.  She knows all the things.  When she didn’t answer, I called my Aunt.  Because she knows just how many “poor babies” I need in any given situation, and she has met Anxiety Girl, and she is all about the healing things too.

We assessed the situation and realized that while I didn’t have the perfect remedies here, I did have a *fingers crossed* suitable substitute.  At least until I could talk to my Cousin.  So I applied the cream I had here and covered it with a bandaid and thought all the positive thoughts.

Okay, mostly positive thoughts.  I was still worried.  A bit.

Okay, a lot.

But that Anxiety Girl–she’s a persistent one.  It’s hard to shake her.

It was then that my Cousin called back.

She said the cream could maybe help, but that applying cayenne pepper to the cut would stop the bleeding very quickly.  “It will sting,” she said. “But it will do the job.”

Well, doing the job was what I was worried about.  Stinging I figured I could handle.  I was raised with that one bottle of Mercurochrome at my Granny’s, so I know stinging.

Aub stood by with the bottle of cayenne pepper, a little too eager for my comfort level, but she insisted she was only trying to help.  I unwrapped the bandage and lo and behold–no blood!

Hallelujah.  That cayenne pepper is so good it worked metaphysically.

My Cousin and I celebrated over the phone, and I thanked her.  She is such a blessing to all of us, and I hope she knows that.  As we talked, she apologized for not getting the call when I first tried to call her.  She had been out checking her very pregnant Mama Goat.  She said it looked like it could be another little bit before Mama gives birth.  She just hopes the birth won’t happen on one of these nights with the lows in the 20’s.

My mouth dropped open.  “You are one of the most fascinating creatures God ever created,” I told her, and I meant every word.  She is.  And she’s funny and clever and kind too.

She and I are each working on a temperature blanket for 2016.  We will crochet a Granny stripe each day with the color based on the high temperature of the day.  We planned out our original colors, but the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t like the true green with the other colors we chose.  I stayed up late into the night worrying over it a couple of nights ago.

My Cousin stays up late worrying over birthing goats.

Ahem.

I owe her this.

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An epilogue to the story:

Due to all the injuries, both real and imagined, that happen around here and with our neighborfriends, we were nearly out of bandaids here at the house. This sent me into mini-panic mode Saturday night, as I knew I needed a band-aid to hold my wound together–at least until it started healing on its own.

The next morning Aub and I went to the Getting Place, and I went straight to the bandage section.  I found all kinds of neat things to wrap around my wound–er, ahem, I mean–cut.  As Justin Case handed me several different packages including finger “covers,” Aub shook her head and said, “Mama!  You’re going to wind up spending $100 on band-aids and bandages.”  She sounded more than a little exasperated and very near to being fully incensed.

I held my finger up high for any and all around to see, and I announced a little louder than usual, “I have injured my finger.  Do not judge.”  And I added a pack of Star Wars band-aids to my cart for good measure.

Because Star Wars.  And if you have to wear them, why not wear ones that are cool and make you happy?

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I hurt my lil’ ol’ finger, y’all.  

Tonight I’m thankful for the ones who are here who take my calls.  Or call me back.  Either way.  The ones who put up with my silly woes and worries and help me heal.  Not just my finger, but my heart and soul–the little bits of me that miss the way my Mama would tell me in that way she had that “it will either get better or it will get worse–and then you’ll know.”  She usually followed up that statement with words that let me know she fully expected “it”–whatever it was–would get better.  Just give it time.

Wishing you all folks in your posse who love you and have all the best healing powers.  And I wish you matching yarn and plenty of band-aids–whatever your favorites are.  Because sometimes it’s the little things that ease your spirit.

Love to all.

***oh and I’m thankful I didn’t have to actually use the cayenne pepper this time around***  But NOW I know…..

 

 

 

 

The Universal Language of Magic

For some reason I started thinking about old TV shows and how good I used to think they were.  Maybe it’s because I’m feeling nostalgic or maybe it’s because my Cousin came by and we were talking about the movies we grew up watching.  He loaned us Superman and Superman II, so we were talking about those and movie ratings and how that’s changed and so on.

And I thought of Bewitched.

I’m not sure why.

But I thought of it, and just like every other time in my life, it gave me comfort to think back to that show.  I wanted to be Samantha, sure–but when Tabitha was born, I wanted to be her with almost every fiber of my being.  She was adorable and had magical powers and well, yeah, isn’t that enough of a reason to want to be her?  Oh and Aunt Clara.  Of course.

When we lived in Japan, we had channels that we could watch American programming on.  We could watch channels like Lifetime with about a two-week delay.  (This really made me happy as I was watching Christmas movies well into January–AS ONE SHOULD.  Obviously.)  We also got Japanese channels.  We really liked watching sumo matches and enjoyed the ceremony and regality of it all.  We even had our favorite wrestlers.  I haven’t watched a match since we moved back, but those are happy memories.

Somehow while we were there, I heard about the release of “Bewitched in Tokyo.”  I don’t remember if I read about it in an English paper or saw a preview on a Japanese channel.  Either way, I set the VCR (yes, VCR!) and recorded the first episode.

Adorable.  A brilliant adaptation of a classic.

Sorry, was that too much?

Still, it was really fun.  Two adorable Japanese young people, living in a high-rise apartment in Tokyo.

But everything else was the same.

So much so that they used the same story lines.  For each and every episode I got to watch.

The only difference was I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

And yet I knew exactly what was going on.

The beauty of knowing a story well and enjoying something despite the differences.

I recently saw an interview with a woman about polygamy.  She was no less than vehement when she said, “It’s wrong.  I hate them.”

Hate?  Really?  THEM?

I mean, you might disagree with how they are living and what their choices are, and you are allowed that.  But HATE them?

Oh me.

Tonight I’m thankful for the memory of “Bewitched in Tokyo.”  In a country where things were so very different and life was not at all familiar, I found that we are more alike than different.  That someone in Japan loved the story of “Bewitched” enough to share it with their fellow Japanese friends and family and strangers alike–that is beautiful to me.

And that I could understand it, even though I spoke “skoshe” amount of Japanese–well some things are universal, aren’t they?  They need no interpretation.

As we go through this weekend of remembering and aiming for peace in the world, may we all take a moment to remember, that despite all of our differences–

we all like to laugh at made up stories about magic.  Among so many other things.

Wishing you peace and love for all.

Just a little glimpse into the wonderful show that brought me great joy…..

 

Ebb and Flow and Food Allergies

 

Ahh, the ebb and flow of life.

Specifically, today, the life with a child with severe food allergies.

This morning when I took the littles to our first stop on the OutandAbouts for the day, where they have been learning good things all week, I saw the little girl who had enjoyed watching my yarn as I crocheted yesterday.  She and her twin brother, not quite two yet, were both snacking on crackers that I noticed right away.

Whether due to my hypervigilant state when folks are eating in public or because those things practically glow in the dark–likely it was both–I saw they were eating those peanut butter cheese crackers.

Trying to be subtle, I immediately redirected the path of my crew to avoid the eating area and little hands that might reach out and touch us or our things and moved them to where they needed to be in line.  Once they were settled in, Aub and I took our things and went over to another area to sit.

Where the Mama and her twins soon joined us.  *sigh*  I wish I could come up with a nice way to say, “Hey, we’re allergic, that stuff could kill one of us, could you please avoid touching us or hey, since Anxiety Girl decided to tag along today, just avoid our general area, okay?”

But I haven’t yet.

So I just sat uncomfortably avoiding eye contact with the sweet little girl, whose crumb encrusted hands were reaching to get around the stroller her mom had placed strategically to block her into a small area.  Yesterday we’d had such a nice interaction–she and I.  She pointed at my yarn, and I said, “Yarn.”  She pointed at her little jelly-like sandals and said, “Shoooo.”  It was great.  And sweet.

But today, because of those contaminated (yes strong word, just how it feels to me) hands, I couldn’t take a chance that she’d touch my pants or our bag or Princess’ things and then I wouldn’t know how to keep my girl safe.

Because that is what it all boils down to.  Doing WHATEVER and ALL that it takes to keep her safe.

We got through the morning with no mishaps or accidental exposure.  The only casualty was my heart and feelings and anxieties with being torn between not wanting to hurt someone else’s feelings and keeping my child protected from potential harm.

One day I’ll learn how to better handle things like this.

*sigh* And people wonder why I just want to stay home.

Then there was the positive for the day.  Total reversal of where the day was heading. One of the BEST THINGS EVER.  One of our own wrote me that she’d found a No-Nut Butter at the Big store.  It’s made by Sneaky Chef.  She had tasted it and thought it was pretty good.  So the next stop on our OutandAbouts was the Big store to see what I could find.  And sure enough, there it was.  (Well, after I called her to ask where it was.  Of course I found it before she could even get the words out to tell me.  Always the way.)  I was giddy with anticipation.  I know that makes for a silly picture–me checking out of the store, practically bouncing, unable to get home quickly enough to open up the jar and try some.  But there it was.  This is the life I lead.

Because we have NOTHING to replace peanut butter.  We’ve tried other butters, but eventually they were all ruled out as being okay for her.  The only thing that we’ve been okay with is Biscoff spread–fondly known as “cookie butter” around here–and let’s face it, not really a nutritious choice.

No-Nut Butter.  Two words.  Yay-licious!

No-Nut Butter. Two words. Yay-licious!

But No-Nut Butter?  Sneaky Chef, my hat’s off to you.  You ROCK.  This is safe for my child.  Not only that, we all LOVE it.  Aub even wants to make her favorite peanut butter dessert using this as a substitute.

We ARE THRILLED.

Joy, fear, anticipation, anxiety, hard times, good times.  It’s all in there together, isn’t it?  No matter what your family is dealing with–the ebb and flow of life.  It’s there.  Always.  The key, I guess. is to be patient when things seem way too dry or feel like they’re pulling us under.  Just hang in there.  Life is ever-changing, not static.

I was reminded of this in these words of Ann Lamott from “Help, Thanks, Wow:”

“Most of us figure out by a certain age—some of us later than others—that life unspools in cycles, some lovely, some painful, but in no pre­dictable order. So you could have lovely, painful, and painful again, which I think we all agree is not at all fair. You don’t have to like it, and you are always welcome to file a brief with the Com­plaints Department. But if you’ve been around for a while, you know that much of the time, if you are patient and are paying attention, you will see that God will restore what the locusts have taken away.”

I have had my days that I have doubted this, but this came full circle for me today.

And I am thankful for that.  Thankful for a new day, a fresh start, and clean hands again on another day, so maybe my little friend and I can visit again.  And maybe the opportunity will present itself and the words will come so I can explain my anxiety to her mother.  I give thanks for family who look after me and mine and love us enough to share their thoughts–my Aunt and my Cousin, I’m especially grateful for tonight.  When folks care enough to get in your chili, even about what you are eating (chili or not)…..that’s a precious gift.  And I don’t take it lightly.

May the ebb and flow of your life leave you feeling refreshed today.

Love to all.

 

 

 

Miscellaneous Meanderings

So it’s Saturday.  And maybe it’s because it’s a new month or I’m tired or allergies or I’m just getting old, I cannot focus today.  So here’s a peek at what I’ve thought about or done today.

Our princess had an extra ballet and tap practice today.  It’s recital season and we are so close, so the class needed an extra practice.  Their sweet teacher made time in her day to meet with them for this special practice, so it was the least we could do to make time in ours.

Last year our girl made it through the recital with her same old tap and ballet shoes.  Then when fall rolled around, I went to get her new ones.  And her feet had grown.  THREE.  WHOLE.  SIZES.  Oh my land.  Now you know that didn’t all happen in the two months she was off.  Just write “Bad Mama” on my forehead with a Sharpie and feed me to those other dance Mamas who make sure their ballerina’s hair is just perfect and that their leotard and skirts match and that there are no runs in their tights.  Every single week.  For ten months.  *sigh*  I have asked her recently if her shoes fit, and she says yes.  I’m taking her word for it at this point.  I just don’t have it in me to schedule a trip to buy new shoes and rough up the bottoms before the recital.  One day she can tell her therapist all about this.  Or her podiatrist.  I’m sorry, baby girl.

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So one of my oldest and dearest posted this on my page today.  I cannot tell you in words how great it is to have friends who knows me so well, and who will love me through the dark times, but do not hesitate to call me on my junk too.  Mama was good at that.  I’m glad I have friends and family who are looking out.  Love you girl.  And yeah, today was one of those days.  When just the idea that you need to actually go and find and put on a pair of pants and shirt exhausts you, well, yeah.  Where I am today.  (I know, I know, shine don’t whine.)

Nevertheless I took our princess to find a bathing suit that isn’t gaping or revealing or you know, whatever.  She is very tall for her age, with a long torso. So trying to find a one-piece that is long enough but doesn’t gape all over is a hard task.  We were in the dressing room and we found one that seemed okay.  It was not her traditional pink choice, rather it was orange and grey, but she seemed to like it.  She twisted her sweet eight year old face up as she looked in the three way mirror and said, “Well, it’s okay, but I need to ask the fashion expert.”  I said, “Who?” She replied, turning this way and that, hands on and off hips, “You know, Baba (her big sister).  She does her hair every. single. day.  She’s the fashion EXPERT.”  So she asked me to take a picture of her and text it to her sister to ask her if it was okay.  When Aub found out about it, she was genuinely pleased and all smiles.  “Wow,” she said.  Wow, indeed.  Siblings getting along at any given moment–parenting win.

Right now the princess is in the tub.  She has somehow gotten the idea that she should leave the shampoo in her hair for three minutes.  I figured this out because she will randomly call out, loudly, “Has it been three minutes?” (Whaaaat?) In the beginning she would call out, “Tell me when it’s been three minutes,” but either I’m losing my hearing (a possibility), my selective hearing has kicked in (a greater possibility), or she’s just not calling that out anymore (?????).  Still I hear her holler, “Has it been THREE MINUTES?”  And one of us, usually me or Aub, will shrug and holler back, “Yes.”  Don’t judge people.  It’s shampoo, it’s not that serious.  A better Mama would put a clock in there or set the timer or maybe explain that the three minutes are not necessary (though she’d probably argue with me on that point).  Some days you just have to pick the mountains you’re gonna climb.  This ain’t one of them.

Last night I was walking through our front yard and our neighbor was out wrapping up his yardwork.  His son just graduated as well.  I asked him when his son heads out for college.  Turns out, it will be around the same time that my girl goes.  I said, “It will be mighty quiet around here.”  He nodded.  “Yeah.”  He paused.  And then laughed.  “I’m looking forward to it.”  I laughed too, pointed at this yard, and said, “You’re not kidding me.  I’ve seen him out here working and pushing that mower.  It’s about to be all yours to do.  Just like I’m losing my babysitter.”   He nodded and said, “Yeah, I think I’m gonna get me a riding lawn mower.”  That really cracked me up.  How many of us moved away from home and returned to find the ‘rents had upgraded?  Yeah, me too.

When I returned home today from ballet practice and errands, I found the stack of mail had been brought in.  Bills–check.  Junk mail–check.  College brochure for Aub–check.  (Side note:  I’m really quite sad that all these colleges think she’s a rising senior–I’ve got another year of weeding through their sales pitches.)  Package from Amazon–ch–wait.  I am pretty good at remembering when I’ve ordered something from them.  I know my memory is suffering, but books I KNOW.  I opened it up, and much to my surprise, it was a book that my cousin had mentioned to me.  Whoo hoo.  She is a love.  What a treat!  I look forward to reading this one.  Oh y’all, my stack of books to read!  In my dreams I hire a housekeeper and a cook and somehow still educate the littles and find time to curl up with my favorite blanket du jour and read, read, read.  This one’s going to the top of the list.  Thank you and much love.

My surprise in the mail from my sweet cousin

My surprise in the mail from my sweet cousin

Whenever I have stepped outside today I’ve been greeted by the sweet smell of gardenia.  It was sent to me by a dear friend who is overseas to remember my Mama.  After a few days its leaves started turning colors.  I panicked.  Another good friend who is a Master Gardener told me to call the company.  They promptly sent me another one.  And the same thing happened.  Y’all, I’m not like my Master Gardener friend, but I don’t usually kill every plant I get.  She took them under her loving care and just look.  Gorgeous.  The first one has recuperated from a bad case of being rootbound, and the second one is on its way back. (for the record, rootbound–not my fault)  Aren’t they beautiful?  They just fill me with peace.  And that smell…..second only to a tea olive.  I am thankful for my friend who sent them, and for my friend who used her gifts and talents (she is THE Mrs. Greenthumb) generously and rescued these babies.  And this is not the first time she has saved the day–and a plant or two.  Thank y’all–I think of you both everytime I see those beautiful blooms and green leaves.

These fill me with such a peace

These fill me with such a peace

So it’s Saturday.  Another week is about to begin, as well as another month.  The longest day of the year will be upon us before we know it.  Time passes so much more quickly than it did when I was small.  I just want to reach out and stop the hourglass, turn it on its side and balance it where it is for just a few minutes, and take a moment to breathe.  And think.  And dream.  And yes, read.

But I’m not in charge and that’s not how life goes.  So for now, I’ll say goodnight and Happy Weekend.  I’m off to hug the children and find myself a quiet corner and open a book.  Tonight I’m thankful for the extraordinary ordinary of my everyday.  As my friend Baddest Mother Ever would reframe it–tomorrow I GET to do it all again.  And that’ll do for a Saturday.