The Crab Chronicles

Home

I am home!!  YAY!  I don't feel 100% but I feel surprisingly normal. My abdomen is understandably sore, and I've got to get a nap soon, but I am so relived the ordeal is over with.

Lesleigh took a photo of me in the pre-op room when I was wearing a hat that looked like the top of a Jiffy Pop popcorn. I will NOT be sharing that!

I am so lucky to have Lesleigh and Bruce here. They run the house better than I do. Les spent the night in the hospital with me and was up half the night with me because I had a bad headache and nausea. She is as dear as a sister.

I am trying really really hard not to take pain meds because I hate feeling "fuzzy brained." No real pain, just achy...

The procedure I had was called a DaVinci procedure, and it's robotic. Instead of one long incision, I have 5 teeny tiny incisions that are glued shut now and healing. If you want to know more see this video on YouTube. It's been less than 24 hours since the surgery and I am fine. I will take a nap in a little while and take it easy for a few days, but overall it has been really easy.

Michael's actual 17th birthday is today! We will have a family party later. Thanks for all the prayers and good wishes!

Showered With Love

This is a difficult post to write, maybe one of the top ten most difficult posts ever. So far 2013 has been a strange year, one unlike any other year of my adult life.There are a lot of good things going on and one negative thing.

I started The Write Rainmaker earlier this year, and continued to expand my writing and marketing skills and experiences. I met a lot of cool folks, including my clients. I got to know a new friend who has a small publishing company, and I am helping him with a book.

Back in May, though, I started having some, well, let's just say "female issues." Never had those kinds of issues before in my life. In fact, for my entire adult life, except for weight, I've been ridiculously healthy. Yes, years ago I smoked. Losing my dad to cancer made me quit that habit in 1997.

I go through stages of exercise and trying to get more healthy and in better shape. I clearly have a ways to go on that.Lately I have been eating really well and swimming a lot, so I actually feel pretty good at the moment.

However, the issues that cropped up in May were not minor. I couldn't ignore them.

So tomorrow I get to go to the hospital and have a hysterectomy.

I have hesitated to mention this publicly. However, I am pretty open about most aspects of my life, even the painful ones, so I figured why not just tell y'all what's going on. I will spare you the details. I do have a really fine surgeon. I also have a ton of support.

My cousin/friend/surrogate sister Lesleigh came in yesterday and is staying with us. She now lives in Austin TX, and she is studying acupuncture and natural healing. She has always been a gifted healer, and she also has a master's in psychology. She is related to me because her grandmother Virginia and my dad were first cousins. However, even if we weren't second cousins I would still love Lesleigh. She's the best.

Lesleigh will be with me at the hospital tomorrow and until they let me come home Friday.

My brother is supposed to come in today.

Lots of friends and neighbors are aware of the situation, and have been very loving and supportive. Part of that was demonstrated last Friday when Michael's friends spent the day with him for his birthday. His actual birthday is this Friday but I will be getting released from the hospital that day and so it will be a weird day.

I am told by every woman I know who has had a hysterectomy [including my mom] that once it is over, I will feel much better. Hopefully that's true. I have a business to run and lots of things I want to do in the coming months.

So please keep me, Michael, Mother, Bruce, Les, and all of us in your prayers and/or good thoughts.

I'm not sure when I will post again. Hopefully in a couple of days.

Before I leave you, I want to tell you something important.

When I reflect about the current issues I don't dwell on the negative. I am a very blessed person. SO MANY friends, cousins, neighbors, family members - I am literally surrounded by loving folks, and that is the the best thing about my life. I may not be materially rich, but I am rich beyond measure in the ways that count. I hope you are surrounded by love, too. So I leave you with the immortal James Taylor and my favorite song, Shower the People:

 

Things My Parents Wouldn't Let Me Do As a Child

I read Dooce several times a week, and I am always awed by her photos. I can barely take a photo where the subjects are identifiably human, and Heather takes awesome photos like this one, showing her younger daughter and a new baby.

It reminded me that when I was a little girl I loved playing with babies. And I was never allowed to play with REAL ones. I had baby dolls. I had Barbie dolls. I had a kitten who got treated as a baby [and put up with all of it, which was remarkable], but since I was the youngest in my family, and the youngest in the ENTIRE outside realm of first cousins, there were no real live babies for me to play with. UNTIL..... my cousin Robin had a little baby named Lana.

Now, Robin is the oldest of my Hasty cousins [Mom's side] and so I was beside myself with joy when I heard about Lana. I just knew Robin would want me to come over and play with the baby, and dress her, and walk her around in the baby carriage.... pretty much what I had been doing with my remarkably patient cat. I was 10 years old.

So we get over to my aunt and uncle's house when Lana was a few months old, and I go running in to pick up the baby and play with her. My mother wasn't having it. I had to wash my hands and arms in hot soapy water. That took 10 minutes until I was clean enough. Then I had to sit down in a chair and let somebody put the baby in my lap, except I think they draped a towel over my shirt. I wasn't allowed to do anything but look at the baby and maybe hold her little hand. She was a very good baby and didn't cry. She was premature, so she was sleeping a lot.

I just have never forgotten how nervous Mom was about me holding that baby.

Now, since I don't already feel older than dirt, here's a recent photo of Lana, aka "the baby," who has gray hair:

The little boys are her nephews.

My mother was also weird about how we dressed. Before school, every day, I had to be inspected. If my clothes had a tear or a stain, I had to change before I could catch the school bus. Sometimes I didn't coordinate colors. I had to then change clothes. I may not have been the most fashionabloe kid, but I was clean and neat.

We always had to wash our hands before dinner.

My Mother also never let me go in swimming directly after I ate. I had to wait 30 minutes. Not 25 minutes, or 29 minutes NO. AT LEAST 30 minutes.

I couldn't put my elbows on the table at dinner. I forget what terrible thing would've happened, but I wish I had $1 for every time my dad hollered "ELBOWS OFF THE TABLE!"

I couldn't play at the pool until Mom had slathered me with Sea & Ski. She was ahead of her time on the sunscreen thing. The smell of Sea & Ski is like time travel, instantly catapulting me back to my childhood.

We couldn't eat pork chops with our hands. Other people's kids got to do that. Not us.

I could not interrupt the grownups. "Children are to be seen, and NOT HEARD" was the phrase I heard a million times growing up. I wish more parents now would enforce that, actually.

I couldn't leave my house without telling Mother and/or Dad where I was going, what I was doing, and when I was coming back. They had to know the parents if I was going to somebody's house. The big difference between then and now, though, was that I knew almost everyone on our street, and Mom and Dad knew the parents. That was true at every house where we ever lived.

I couldn't eat dinner without consuming a vegetable. Mashed potatoes didn't count. Green jello didn't count as "something green." Not even on St. Patrick's Day. For a while, the only vegetables I'd eat were green beans or lettuce. I had a LOT of those...

My dad also never liked seeing people with hands in their pockets. He fussed at us if he saw that.

In the winter I wasn't allowed to run around the house barefoot. I had to wear bedroom slippers. My grandmother lived in fear we'd "catch pneumonia" if our naked feet touched the floor in winter. When I was 7 I actually DID get pneumonia, and I think Mamaw lectured Mom about the dereliction of duty regarding my feet...

Even though I grew up in the Deep South [Augusta, Georgia is about as southern as you can get] I was NEVER EVER allowed to use the N word. Never. I would've been spanked if I had done that. I was always shocked when I heard other kids say that hateful word, and I didn't want to be around kids like that. I watched both my parents treat yard men, maids, delivery folks, etc. with the utmost kindness and respect, always. That's how you model kind behavior, and I commend my parents for that.

I was never allowed to exhibit bad manners to anyone, come to think of it. That was a great blessing, the lessons about manners. I used to get so exasperated, thinking how weird my parents were, and now I am forever grateful they emphasized good manners.

above, me in front of the Herd Avenue house in Augusta.

Devotion

Devotion

They are separated by 62 years,

Not bound by blood, but by invisible ties

fragile from being stretched by old pain,

strong from knowing the value of devotion.

 

I didn’t labor, big-bellied with my boy. I flew

to find him, across the ocean.

He was a tiny alien creature, and yet

He was mine, the moment

we met.

 

He took names we chose for him, fitting seamlessly

into this girl world, our blue house among the tall trees.

 

He fixes her drinks, helps her in and out of the car,

the chair,

up and down steps.

She fixes food for him; advises; tells stories, and listens.

She lets her room be his sanctuary, her puppy his totem.

 

She is his, and he is hers.

I thank God for their mutual devotion.

 

She calls him her Knight in Shining Armor.

He calls her Granny, equally tender.

 

Nothing binds them together but love, but that is

more than enough.

 

 

July 2013

Early Celebrating

Michael's birthday is next week but it's always hard to coordinate the schedules of all his busy friends for a party. However, yesterday morning his friends pictured here surprised him at breakfast with gifts and singing Happy Birthday.[Sorry about the blurry photo; I had to use my phone.]

I fed everyone [breakfast casserole, fruit, muffins, donuts, juice] and then they headed for Malibu Grand Prix, where they rode little boats and go karts and played videogames until almost 4:00. I picked them up just before a massive thunderstorm rolled through.

I reminded Michael in the car that he is VERY fortunate to have such sweet and caring friends. He is truly cocooned here in the neighborhood where most people know him, and he is very highly regarded. Of course, he has the reputation as a responsible, nice boy because he IS those things.

These folks pictured are not actually ALL Michael's friends, but they were the ones available and that we could fit into two cars. His friend Hayden just got her license and can only take one other person, and I have an SUV. Doubtless he will have time to hang with his other friends next week.

Since we just got a Wii, he got several Wii games, and I know he will enjoy them. Next week on the 19th, which is his actual birthday, we will have some gifts and a family celebration.

*************************************************************************************************************************

My friend/cousin Lesleigh, who moved to Austin last year, is coming into town for a visit and will stay with us Tuesday through Sunday. I can't wait to see her.

Besides getting the house ready for Les, I have been really busy with some writing projects. Didn't help losing power yesterday for about an 45 minutes.

We have had so much rain here that I have not had to go outside and water anything in days, which is unusual. We just need more SUN now. I have tomatoes that need to ripen!

This is the recipe for the casserole I made yesterday:

Egg Sausage Casserole

 6 slices white bread, trimmed and cubed

6 eggs, slightly beaten

1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated

1 lb. Sausage, cooked and drained

1 tsp. Dry mustard

salt and pepper

2 1/2 cups whole milk

 

Butter casserole or Pyrex dish heavily. Line with bread cubes. Mix all other ingredients; pour over cubes, cover tightly and let stand overnight in fridge.

 Bake 350 for 45 minutes.

Braves Night

It has been an exhausting day, for a variety of reasons, but late this afternoon I took the boys over to my friend Kristy's house. She generously offered to take Michael and a friend to the Braves game with her family, in honor of his birthday next week. Incredibly kind of her. It was so funny to get to Colton's house and he had on the exact same outfit as Michael. They didn't plan it.

The first time they went to a game together was several years ago, with my friend Gary and his dad.

Michael got new glasses last week, and he said to me as we were walking out to the car tonight, "This will be much better because now with my new glasses I can see the players - before they were blobs!" We foolishly went to an eye doctor who totally mis-diagnosed Michael, and those glasses never really worked for him. We changed to Visionworks last year, and the new glasses are terrific. And cheaper.

When I was 9 and went to the opthalmologist for the first time, I was terrified. My older brother had told me that the doctor would have to pull my eyes out in order to really examine them, and then he would snap them back into my head. I was a ninny and believed him. The doctor said he'd never seen a child scream like that, when he pulled that big piece of viewmast-looking equipment over for me to look into.

My parents were there and they immediately knew what had happened.

Then I got glasses and lost them, many pairs, for the first few years. There was no such thing as vision coverage then either. There are probably still several pairs at the bottom of Douglas Lake...

Rain in Margaritaville

We have had so much dang rain here lately that it has just wiped out some of my plants, so this morning I said to heck with seeds, I am buying some more stuff and sticking it in the ground.I found some good deals on small seedlings at Lowe's after I renewed my driver's license this morning.

So now we have two new tomatoes, an eggplant, and two bell pepper plants. At least, I THINK they are bell pepper plants. Seems like when I bring home peppers what always happens is the peppers that eventually appear are not what I bought, or what we like. One of my neighbors loves all kinds of peppers so I just have Michael take them over to him.

We had maids here yesterday and I nearly worked myself to death getting ready for them. I know that sounds odd. I just hire them to do floors and bathrooms, so I try to make sure all those places are uncluttered enough so they can just do the scrubbing. I closed the door and put a note on Michael's door in Spanish that said "Do not clean this room." It's a disaster. You can barely SEE the floor.

I know maids might seem like a ridiculous extravagance, but I am having some female issues, and my energy level is very low right now. I just can't keep the house real clean, and Mother and Michael just aren't able to do what needs to be done. Scrubbing these fancy Mexican tile floors [that the previous owners put in] is a nightmare. The fact that Coco likes to relieve herself everywhere BUT her piddle pad, doesn't help, although I try very hard to stay on top of that.

I got off my eating program a little bit last night, because by the time it was suppertime I was too exhausted to cook. So I ran up to a local Mexican place to pick up some food and bring it home. I like that it's locally owned and the food is excellent and not too pricey.

So I get there and see there's a special on margaritas. Now, I drink a mixed drink maybe once every.... 2-3 years? Almost never. I might drink 1 beer a month, at most. Last night I decided I was going to have an icy cold margarita. When I asked for the margarita in a traveler [plastic cup] the guy said "We can't do that, we lose our liquor license..." I wheedled pleadingly, but to no avail.

Finally, I said "You see that blue Toyota out there? I've got a sullen teenager sitting in there who doesn't like me much right now (because I wouldn't let him drive there) and he's listening to horrible music so loud the car is vibrating. I am exhausted, too. Can't you bend the rules a little bit and let me have a margarita??" I paid him. He put in the order."You got someone to drive you? You no drive lady?" he asked me. I pointed at the car and he grinned.

A few minutes later I got my drink in a styrofoam cup with a lid and a straw. Wow, that was good. So cold. So fruity and refreshing.

One is my limit, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. While I was NOT driving.

After I got some food into Michael he got nicer, too.

this is my dad and some of his buddies on the French Riviera in the early 1950's. there's no reason for posting it except I like it...

Birthday Wishes

As I have gotten older I have come to realize that loving someone who doesn't see eye to eye with you is incredibly difficult, and yet so important. I always remind myself that God loves us all, whether we are living "godly" lives or not.

So if I am a Christian and I am really "walking the walk" it's up to me to simply love, and not judge. This is insanely hard for me.

I want to swoop in and FIX things in my friend's lives, and particularly in the lives of my children. I want to make their paths easy. I want to help them. I find it almost unbearable to think of them suffering.

I have a friend, Julie, whose daughter is about the same age as mine, and she is in the hospital, fighting for her life. Thanks be to God her father, who is himself a doctor, is there with her. I grieve for Julie, knowing how it preys upon her mind to know her baby is in danger.

So in the big scheme of things, although I don't like a lot of the choices my daughter has made, and is still making, she is ALIVE. Because of that, I can have hope that she will make better choices.

Today Alesia turns 22.

I sent her an email wishing her Happy Birthday. There's not much else I can do, because she can't tell me her address [boyfriend won't allow it] and her cell number only works sporadically.

When I look back at where she came from, I take comfort in knowing she is better off. She recalls living in a house in Russia where there was no electricity, and there was a dirt floor. She recalls being bathed as a child in a big tin washtub. She has scars on her from trying to cook meals for herself when she was 3 and her birthmother left her alone for hours.

She was molested and beaten up many times in the orphanage.

I belong to a network of parents who are trying to raise post-institutionalized children from Russia. These children were abused, neglected, and shunned. These children bear lifelong emotional scars. The behavioral issues are simply symptomatic of being forced to rely on themselves for most of their young lives, and so they do not trust grownups. All their experience has been that grownups betray them, every time.

It is so hard for me to understand that mindset, because I had loving parents. I never wondered if I would get anything to eat on a typical day. I never was left alone for hours, locked in an apartment with no food. I never wore the same clothes for days on end.

The real tragedy is that there are so many children here in the US, and worldwide, who experience those living conditions every day. They grow up with such severe emotional damage that many commit suicide, unable to fit into the world. I have read that the suicide rate among children released from orphanages is 50% among those under 30. The other 50% usually choose lives of crime and prostitution simply because there is nothing else for them.

My daughter is a kindhearted, loving, intelligent young woman. She has the capacity to learn, and to work. She will probably never see this, but if she does, she may not believe it. However, I watched her for 6 1/2 years. Although there were many frustrating moments where I was distressed by her behavior, those were far outnumbered by the moments of joy and pride.

Happy Birthday sweet girl. No matter where you are or who you are with, my love surrounds you.

The Sun Is Shining so I Don't Care if It's Monday

For the first time in days, THE SUN!! Yay! I just stood outside in the hot sun deadheading my roses and it felt good.

Of course, it also felt good to come back inside to the air conditioning.

After an early morning doctor's appointment, I took Michael out to breakfast at IHOP, one of his favorite places. I was amazed that even at 9:30 on a Monday morning that place was crowded. Wow.

For his birthday, I bought Michael a Wii system, used, off Craigslist. I got the entire system plus handheld thingies for $60. Can't beat that. I remember when they came out and cost $300. My firmly held belief is that if you wait a little while, all technology items drop in price. I hate paying full retail for anything. I will wait years if necessary.

Some of Michael's friends are planning something for his birthday, which is next week, but I cannot reveal details here. (I don't know all the details, actually...)

I spent a fair amount of time over the weekend working on a website for my Write Rainmaker business. I've had a blog for months but I thought it was time for a proper site.  SO.... take a look here, and send the link to any attorneys or small business owners you know! Thanks.

After breakfast I realized I need to renew my driver's license. Of course, they have made that much more difficult, now. I have to find a birth certificate, social security card or proof of my SSN. I heartily approve of these measures, I just don't like having to find all this stuff.

Remember I said I spent a lot of time recently trying to get stuff cleaned out of Alesia's room, to turn it into a Guest Room? I got a lot done on that. I'm still not through, but I am a lot closer. The photo below shows part of it.

The little bedside lamp belonged to my grandmother and was probably made in the 1920's. The blue bookcase was made for my great grandmother and is probably about 75 years old. It's been painted numerous times.

The mirrored washstand is an antique [but not a fine one] and I bought it and painted it years ago. We are having a houseguest next week, so I wanted the room to look fresh and inviting...

Birthday Lunch 2013

The highlight of yesterday was my birthday lunch. I have these every few years, at a local restaurant, with whatever friends are available.

Since my birthday is on July 4th and everyone usually has plans already, I decided this year to do the lunch on Saturday July 6th. I hadn't reckoned on 2 of my friends being out of the US, one having a vet emergency, one having a fridge emergency [without power for 12 hours], several trying to get out of town, one with a sick spouse, etc. etc.

Oh well. We had a lovely time at lunch anyway, with two couples and their children who are dear friends. I wanted to go to the Cheesecake Factory at Perimeter Mall, which is about 15-20 minutes from my house. We usually go to closer places, but Cheesecake Factory felt like more of a special occasion. I used to eat there sometimes when I worked right across the street from the mall.

The food quality at Cheesecake Factory is so-so. That's not why I go there, though. The appetizers and desserts are great. I had crabcakes (appetizer portion)  plus a tiny bit of spinach artichoke dip - all in all a pretty light lunch. Then I got a piece of tiramisu cheesecake and split it with Michael.

Michael had a bowl of soup and a sandwich that was ENORMOUS. Then he ate half my cheesecake. That boy can eat.

Here is the happy group. Sorry about the crappy photo; it was taken with my phone.

The waiters all sang Happy Birthday to me. I prefer the Beatles version, but no matter.

I came home with a bad sinus headache and had a nap. Fortunately, Michael was over at Colton's the rest of the day and evening.

I finished cleaning and straightening Alesia's room, which will henceforth be known as The Guest Room. I hated that chore, but it's done, thank God.We are having a houseguest soon, so it needed to be done.

I picked up sandwiches for dinner, and noticed when I was in a part of town I don't go to very often, that there is a new liquor store. The name of it made me laugh.

Mr. Happy's Liquor Store.

When Michael was first adopted, my mother decided he needed to call his, um, male appendage Mr. Happy. Biology words (which I prefer) made her uncomfortable. So if we ever have to refer to it in conversation, it's called "Mr. Happy."

LOL