that is a paint brush, and a vacuum cleaner's hand held hose, and a very nice folding chair which was encrusted in sand, some of it wet
that sand from the beach camping trip which came home in my car
is a problem
I put leftover M&Ms in my daughter's lunch bag
that evening she told me that they were dusted with sand
I wasn't on that beach trip but I learned something
all that sand on all that stuff
I thought I wanted to live at the beach when we returned to Texas.
We didn't chose that because the schools didn't seem right for our youngest
(and I will admit without bias, seriously brilliant)
I thought - maybe later.
I think the beach is better for visiting.
I remembered, I remembered as I was detailing the car
(because I am so detail oriented)
that my dad would put everything from the beach in the back of his truck and run it through the carwash at the beach before we started back home, and again later.
I thought it was pretty "redneck".
Now I realize that my dad was ... my dad was great ...
and he must have know a thing or two about sand.
Beach sand has been on the countertops in my kitchen this week.
I have been vacuuming sand out of my clothes dryer!
I don't want to live at the beach.
I thought I did.
(and Sammy would hate it there)
I was thinking about how safe it is to let God "help" with life decisions.
This picture is to remind me of my surprise.
As I worked with brush and vacuum getting that chair "sand free"
I was thinking about how beautifully crafted it is.
I thought it cost more than a folding chair should cost when I saw the tag on it
up at the Bass Pro Shop (gosh those places are full of stuff)
I looked at the tag before I looked in to my husband's eyes,
after I saw the look on his face as he sat in the chair I realized that we needed one
As I cleaned the chair, I thought,
"What the heck, American made may come at a premium these days."
And I remembered the American flag that my dad always looked for before making a purchase.
I smiled thinking of the flag and my dad.
Guess what -
MADE IN CHINA
This was dinner on Tuesday evening.
Chicken - cooked "French"style (whatever that means)
included fresh peaches (yeah in October go figure),
cumin, cayenne, shaved garlic and red onions
(and other ingredients - I wasn't paying close attention)
Sweet potato chips, the base of some pretty fancy and wildly delicious "nachos"
(that green stuff is parsley which was flash fried and surprisingly yum)
the baked Brie with peach preserves is a favorite
My oldest son cooked for us (V and I)
My husband left early Tuesday and will be away for several days on business,
he missed the feast.
One paired a cocktail concocted with
St. Germain, creme de Violette, champagne, and lime juice
I think he said it's called a stormy morning -
I"ll google it.
1 1⁄2 oz. Rathman créme de violette
1 1⁄2 oz. St. Germain elderflower liqueur
1 oz. fresh lime juice
4 oz. Champagne
Lime wedges to garnish
It was very pretty and even though I'm not much of a champagne drinker
I enjoyed the cocktail.
I especially liked hearing the cork pop and seeing him smile.
It felt like a celebration.
It's looking like all my kids, except Three, who is in Denver, will be home for Christmas this year.
I can already feel the joy of that.
The other thing I just found out and - not sure how I feel about it yet - thinking about it:
My kids have discussed and apparently are in agreement that:
I should "make" my husband go to the doctor for a check up.
One told me about it.
I said, "How will I make him go to the doctor?"
I mean, I really wonder how one makes a grown man do something that he doesn't want to do.
It's basically not my personality either - to make ...
I mentioned that to my son, the spokesman,
(Five kids is a lot sometimes, btw)
he said, Mom, you've got to do it.
Hmmm, yes, eyebrows raised (mine).
Everybody knows I worry about my husband's aversion to and lack of medical attention.
Everybody knows that after losing my little brother it's been an even heavier burden for me.
We married in the very early 80's.
I think he's gone to the quackshack type doctor's office twice during that time.
Both times for poison ivy.
(He has had poison ivy so bad that it covered my back via hugs!)
Both times his arms were super swollen and I said it's going to spread to your bloodstream
even though I really don't know if that is possible.
I have "broached" the topic.
Actually have begun to look around on the internet for "ways" to handle this sort of thing and you know what? Lot's of men don't go in for their checkups! Lot's of wives share my unnecessary sadness and concerns about this sort of thing!
So far no joy on advice on how to facilitate responsible behavior.
My dad died when he was 45.
His identical twin wasn't as fortunate,
he lived paralyzed on his left side and almost entirely unable to speak for several years after his second heart event. It was - devastating. Tommy might have know about his cancer before it was stage four ... .
It's hard on the family to see someone so vibrant disappear by degree.
I understand why my kids want me to "do something", I just really am at a loss for what to do -
When it's easy to get a check up it just doesn't make sense to me why he wouldn't.
He's very interested in me seeing to my routine checkups.
I had lunch with a new friend last week. Her husband is several years older than she and has finally acquiesced to seeing a doctor. This was her conversation, I didn't introduce the topic.
She said something like, by choosing not to see about preventative care he is choosing what my life (as his caregiver) will look like. He is making choices about my future without my input.
I nodded sadly (preaching' to the choir girlfriend I thought).
As I look back over the text conversation I can see that I don't know how to handle this.
"Not nagging" grates on me. My mom was so domineering with all of us that I have tended, by both nature and choice, not to try to manipulate my people - and they all know to push that button to get me to back away from unpleasantness. I mean - even the guilting to get me to "make" my husband do something makes my teeth clinch ... I'm doing that thing I do ... worrying my tongue on the roof of my mouth as I fret about this.
Maybe it is my responsibility to get him to the doctor.