The day started off pretty well, then went downhill. I was up and showered and through breakfast and rushing out the door, making OK time, and my phone rang.
My friend Laura just lost her husband a few days ago. He had cancer, but we both believe it was an allergic reaction to a medication that killed him, not the cancer. I was on the phone and emailing her today, trying to help her get medical records and assess what can be done, if anything.
But back to this morning. I hung up talking to Laura and burst into tears. I guess it was inevitable. As awful as I feel about my daughter, Laura is facing so much more grief. I cannot bear to hear someone I care about crying. It wipes me out. I can hold it together for a short time, then I just dissolve. Then of course I reflected on my situation and more tears came. It took me a while after I got to work before I could calm down enough to get anything done.
I thought I looked calm, then my boss stuck his head in the door of my office, and looked alarmed. "You need a little time?! It's OK..." he said, disappearing quickly. There are two kinds of men in the world - those who rush in to help and comfort a crying woman [there are only about 5% who fall into this category] and the rest of them, who get out of the room as quickly as possible. Roger was nice, but he retreated quickly.
To be fair, I have very blue eyes and when I've been crying and they are also red, I look like a space alien.
I stayed until 3:30 and took a short lunch break. Since Roger is out of town next week, I am trying to get trained in more quickly and get some tasks accomplished for him before he leaves.
I came home and tackled some more cleaning out of Alesia's room. It's a sad task. I am trying to de-personalize the room and get it clean before my brother comes in this weekend. Every knicknack sparks a memory. There is the music box given to me by a friend before she came home, the stuffed elephant, the doll from Khabarovsk, etc. So many things.
I have not heard a word from her. I've asked some of her friends to alert me if she contacts them.
On to a happier topic, strawberries.
My mother was in line at a store buying strawberries years ago, when my brother was a teenager, and the woman standing behind her said to Mom, "How do you fix your strawberries when you get them home?" Mother said "I wash them and put them in the fridge. Then they disappear."
Mother said the woman just looked at her like, Oh-Kay.....
I don't eat strawberries, but my brother can eat his weight in them.
We bought fresh strawberries at Kroger yesterday, and they are now gone. Michael has decided he likes to pour a small dish of condensed milk, and dip strawberries or apple slices into the condensed milk. He ate some of the berries last night, the rest of them tonight. Hey, if it gets him to eat fruit, I don't care. He doesn't have weight or cholesterol issues. He says he's going to try bananas tomorrow.
I tried a new recipe tonight, using Philly Cream Cheese cooking creme. I saw an ad for the stuff and wanted to try it. It's delicioso. I cut up some chicken and sauteed it in some butter, then added the cooking creme and some fresh asparagus. I cooked some noodles and put the chicken/asparagus mixture over the noodles. Veyr yummy. Of course, you can just melt a block of cream cheese and throw in some herbs, but this product is quicker...
