It's a Girl!

Survived Day 1 back at the Mines. I was tired by 2:00. No real surprise there, though.

They had a welcome wagon awaiting for me, complete with pink balloons festooned around my cube. One coworker wrote, "It's a Girl!" in black magic marker on a balloon. It made me SOL (smile-out-loud).

Got a basket of daisies, a little box of toffee chocolates and later on another friend brought me some posies in a vase.

I should get injured more often. This is a pretty good haul.

All-in-all, it was good to be back and talking to different faces. I think Kenny was equally thrilled, he never called me all day, and only sent me one email in response to one I sent him. I'm sure he was busy "horsing around" (that's what I told him he does all day).

Tomorrow's Friday - it was good thinking on my part to ease back into life with a couple short weeks. My brain has been on hiatus, it's hard to be a responsible adult all at once.

Tuna Don't Grow On Trees

Back to reality in the morning. To think I could have had two additional weeks off per my doctor and I played the hero with a, "No no, I'm FINE, FINE to go back now." Stupid. Stupid.

I finally got a fire under my ass to do a few things around here, which included putting away laundry for about 5 hours. I switched the closets around, moving summer where winter used to be and vice-versa, as well as filling two giant Hefty Cinch Sacks with donation items. Kenny dropped them off at Planet Aid, or if he hasn't yet, he will.

So a little bit has been accomplished. Very little. I slept a lot during this time off. It felt delicious. Especially this morning, we had a really cool breeze blowing in the window across the bed. It was sublime and we dozed an extra hour just to enjoy it.

The cats will be disappointed with my return to work. They're used to having me open the patio door and letting them come & go all day, sitting outside and catching a breeze as they see fit. Ah well. Mama's gotta work, to put that tuna on the table.

I'm winding down on the day, hoping to get up and at 'em early. Going to go iron my clothes for tomorrow and then go read before slumbering off to dreamland. I've got first-day-of-school jitters, it's been so long since I've stepped foot in the building. Why is that? Weird.

Yet Another Post About Poop

An article showed up in my inbox with this title:

Poop Your Way Free of Back Pain

Of course I had to read it, how could I resist a catchy title like that. And to think I've spent two thousand bucks on an MRI, chiropractor appointments, massages, and now physical therapy. All I need are a few good healthy poops.

Yawn.

What's been going on in my world, eh? It's a burning question, I know. I'm just so exciting!

Most importantly, of late we've been dealing with our Original Stanley issues. Original Stanley is Grandpa Stanley. He had a couple strokes (smallish, as far as strokes go) on Father's Day. He was in the hospital for that, and then we got him transferred to a rehabilitation facility. Unfortunately, I knew of a place because my uncle has been recovering there from some side effects he experienced from something (I'm not sure what, nor should I be disclosing any other personal details on the Interwebs about not me). So yes, I knew of a place and Kenny's mom really liked it, so Stanley and my uncle are now sort of roomies. It's a bad year for Stanley's and family members.

That's been stressful.

As far as my back, I saw the neurologist/specialist last week. Things are looking pretty darn good. She wanted me off work for 2 more weeks, but we negotiated me back to a short week next week and the following. She wanted me to have a couple weeks of physical therapy underway before returning, was her rationale. I'm good with a couple short weeks to start, I'm pretty sure I can handle it. She also put me on some medicine that re-paths my nerves, or something official sounding like that, to take care of some of the pain. I'm not sure it actually takes care of it, or just makes me less aware of it (is that even a good thing??). But so far, I'm happier than I've been in a long time, and feeling pretty darn good, comparatively speaking. I've been stretching and doing my little bit of exercises.

I purchased melatonin to help me get try to get deeper sleep. I've been doing a lot of reading about sleep lately, my sleep quality is poor. I think that having that blaring light from the garage next door beaming into my bedroom prevents me from creating enough melatonin. That's why I wake up tired (my theory). So once I get my blackout shade installed, and the melatonin ingested, I'm hoping to feel rested on 7 or 8 hours of sleep, instead of still tired.

That is a bunch of boring updates, but it's all I have at the moment. More to come, including my CSA farm update (I know, Reader, you're waiting with bated breath).

Here We Go Again

I received more beets with my CSA pick-up today. Would you like photos? Because I will do that for you.

I Need a Wife

Standing in my kitchen, looking around for something to eat for lunch/first meal of the day, a jangle of thoughts running through my mind:

Opens refrigerator:

"I could cook some kale, eh, no, or there's some lunchmeat - wait, that's probably not good anymore, maybe a swig of orange juice (lifts jug to lips, take swig, returns jug to spot on fridge door), huh, I guess I could make some cereal with half & half since we're out of milk, wait, that would be gross. I wish we had eggs."

Shuts refrigerator. Opens freezer door:

"I could heat up that bag of green beans, nah, oh, there's some sausage things, nah, there's 5, I only want 1. What about those Trader Joe's waffles? Eh, they were cardboardy. Nothing. I wish I still had corndogs."

Shuts freezer, turns and examines shelf:

"Crackers. No, that sounds a little dry. Instant oatmeal. Hm...that could be a contender. Bag of chocolate chips? Nah, I need some sort of nutrition, for cryin' out loud! Really, we have NOTHING TO EAT IN THIS HOUSE. Wait. There's that bottle of Barbados rum. That's really good. Maybe I'll just sit around the living room and drink rum today."

Turned and stomped out of the worthless kitchen.

In the end, I opted for 2 pieces of toast made with questionable bread. I figured the heat from the toaster would kill whatever bacterias were thinking about forming. I made it into a meal with a schmear of peanut butter and a top coat of Nutella. All-in-all, not bad, but we REALLY need to go to the grocery store. Things are dire.

Because It's Time For a Cute Cat Picture.

Does this box make me look fat??

Things That Made My Mouth Happy

With my CSA harvest from Saturday, I was able to whip this tasty little treat up for lunch today:

I had to use it or risk losing some of it - the greens didn't have a long shelf life. Must be the lack of preservatives as it's from my organic farmer, Chuck.

This tasty pan of stir-fry consisted of the following from the CSA:

• Swiss Chard (I think, all those big leafy greens kind of looked alike, it could be Spinach) - torn
• Bok Choy, chopped in large pieces
• White Onion, chopped in bigger pieces
• Green Onion, chopped
• Garlic Scape, chopped - could be my new food friend
• Snow Pea Pods
• Orange Pepper, from Sam's Club, added for color and to avoid losing it to old age

Man alive, was it tasty! I sauteed the onions, garlic, pepper in a tich of olive oil, and then threw in the leaves to wilt them. I then got a little nervous that it was going to be tasteless, so I threw in a dap (just a teeny tich) of bacon grease, learned from my grandmother. Bacon grease makes everything tasty, although a little less healthy.

Then, to make it even more unhealthy, I sliced up some leftover chicken chunks that I had from a Chinese food dish on Friday. I guess that doesn't exactly ruin it, it just turned it from meatless into meat. But my grandmother would have been proud of the re-purposing of the chicken.

It turned out pretty amazing.

I'm going to make Garlic Scape Pesto later on.

The other thing that made my mouth happy, that didn't involve smooching Twinkle Toes on the nose?

This salsa:

As you can see, it's G.O.N.E. Gone. Goes in sweet, leaves ya hot. Wow. We picked this up while at the Farmer's Market getting my CSA stuff.

It's from Blaze Gourmet. I cannot stress to you enough how this jar of salsa was worth the $6.99 price tag. It is so. Good. Treat yourself. Just have something handy to drink when you're done, because the heat does not play.

Correction

Mr. Anderson informed me yesterday that he took a look-see over at this blog. Surprised me, he did. I didn't even know he knew where to find it.

Then he asked me who I went to see Tron with, as he read over my movie reviews.

Him?

He explained that we saw Thor, not Tron. I haven't been able to keep that stupid 4-letter word of a movie that starts with "T" straight since I saw it.

He told me that he's here to keep me corrected and my blog pure. At least for the important stuff, like what movies we see.

The Beet Goes On

While some of you may find this over-sharing, I did find this quite interesting and think it's important information to share from a MEDICAL standpoint. Medical, Reader.

My poop today was the color of red velvet cupcakes, and I haven't eaten any red velvet cupcakes since April. Prior to that, you may recall my love-affair with red velvet from last YEAR, and if my poop is still being affected from that, I am in big T.R.O.U.B.L.E. My mind immediately leapt to colon cancer, but after pondering this for the day, I realized it was caused from my dinner yesterday which consisted of a bowl of roasted beets.

I witnessed firsthand Cause & Effect.

I'm not a hundred percent sure of the medical relevancy of this post, but I'm sure it's there if we examine throughly. For instance, it should be a disclaimer on those ads for butt cancer, "Red poop may not necessarily be caused by cancer, but could be a result of eating a bowl of beets." Otherwise people who enjoy the beets could be unnecessarily panicked, have a stroke on the toilet and die. Just like Elvis. But he didn't die from beets, at least I'm pretty sure of that.

It Only Took 2 1/2 Months.

Warning: You will never get these 7 minutes of your life back. But then again, you may have nothing better to do with these next 7 minutes of your life anyway.

I'm not good at any of this iMac Movie Madness, but I'm learning. And oh, it doesn't look good full screen from here. I don't know why, nor do I care. I had to put this movie to bed.

Wow, This Isn't What I Thought I'd Be Typing.

Lessee.....anything interesting from my recliner this week? It's been slow. No real story to tell. If I think of something, you will be the first to know. How's that?

Sidenote, feeling much better this week. Going broke paying out-of-pocket for chiropractor and massage therapist, but that's how it goes. Can't put a price tag on your health, that's what they say, but I actually CAN put a price tag on it. $65 - $90 per massage/per week, $45 per chiropractor visit up to 3 times per week, $1,950 for a back MRI. Family doctor $85 each visit, specialist visit next week who-knows-how-much, natural anti-inflammatory pills, prescription meds around $10 (generics), yada yada. Not cheap. And this is with HAVING A GOOD JOB WITH HEALTH CARE BENEFITS. LET ME STRESS THAT PART.

And you know what else? For all those naysayers about health care reform, who put up a big argument about "we'll all have to wait weeks to see specialists!" Guess what? I've had to wait 22 days to get in to see the specialist. WITH MY GOOD HEALTH CARE BENEFITS, THAT STILL COST ME THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS OUT OF POCKET.

So there.

Honoring The Lord's Day

It's my perfect kinda Sunday: one with leftover wedding cake for breakfast.

Yesterday we attended a wedding for our neighbor's daughter. The reception was just a hop, skip and a jump from where we live, quite convenient. I was excited all day Saturday because as Billy Idol sang, it was a nice day for white wedding cake.

I love. Love. LOVE. wedding cake. It's my favorite kinda cake. I don't know if it's because of all the promise that comes with a wedding cake, all the love that went into picking it out, or because it's layers and layers of frosting goodness, all decorated up like a normal cake never is. Whatever the reason, wedding cake is just BETTER than other cake. And believe you me, I file a rare complaint against other cakes.

We smuggled out four pieces. Now, before you judge (you are a Judging Reader, aren't you???) we took two for us, two for the folks who live downstairs (who also attended) and didn't want their cake. I informed them, "Don't even think about leaving your cake share, it WILL be coming home with us!" And then it came upstairs and into my house. And it's not like it's four big pieces - it's wedding cake, merely a little sliver. Really, two little bites. Chomp Chomp. Over.

The morning came together just as I planned: a piece of room-temperature cake to be enjoyed WHILE the coffee is brewing, and next I'll enjoy a piece of refrigerated cake once the coffee is done.

Healing Pie

For today's adventure, I made a strawberry-rhubarb pie, utilizing the rhubarb from Saturday's bounty from Farmer Chuck.

Since I'm still not getting around too great, it took me HOURS to get this thing put together. I'd wash, the rest, then slice, then rest, then add some ingredients, then sit down and rest... you get the picture. But I figure it's good to start standing a little bit more, try and get the strength back up in my leg. Healing through baking, that's my self-determined therapy.

Perhaps tomorrow I'll try my hand at heath bar cupcakes. In the name of THERAPY, Reader. Therapy! I have to build my strength back up!

I actually thought I could start doing some mild exercises, but the chiropractor said No Way, Pal. He nixed even slow riding on my exercise bike for now. He gave me my exercise sheet that I can do, it involves laying on my back in bed and bringing my leg into my chest and holding it for a few seconds. It actually DOES do quite a bit to help, I was surprised to admit. I slept rather restfully last night, for the first time in days. With the baking therapy, I should sleep like a rock tonight.

It still makes me laugh!

I still have not gotten tired of watching this. And now, you can enjoy it, too.

The Honey Badger. It's worth the click.

Down On The Farm

Remember way back when, around February/March and I was so excited to report that I had bought myself a farmer this year (joined a CSA)? Well, we have had a number (well, only 2, but 2 is a number) of disappointments and it's only June!

Kenny was all of the har-har-har, what-a-waste-of-money, this-is-probably-a-scam mindset.

Now, it's not that bad, but he's getting a pretty good chuckle at my expense (literally, $350 of expense) so far.

First of all, my CSA (Consumer Supported Agriculture) didn't begin when we believed it would. We thought we started getting some early produce in May. When we (The Healthy Hoff and myself) sent an email to Farmer Chuck at the end of April letting him know we'd be at the Farmer's Market, we were informed WE didn't start getting stuff until June. So that is going to take us until the end of October, as we were promised 22 weeks worth of food, which is fine, it was just a little setback.

This past Saturday, June 4th, was our first pick-up of our bushels of delicious, organic healthfulness. The Hoff and Mr. Hoff went and picked it up.

Here was my portion:

Yep. My entire portion (minus 2 eggs, I ate those for breakfast before I took the picture). Rhubarb, snow peas and eggs. We paid extra for a weekly dozen of eggs.

The Hoff's loot included about six small potatoes (just enough to make a side dish for 2) and a couple of radishes, and one more small thing (lettuce, maybe), and six eggs.

I plan to make a rhubarb-strawberry pie with the rhubarb. Call me Betty Crocker.

I am sure that by July I will be posting picture after picture of abundant goodness. We're just off to a slow start. Right?!?

Upon meeting our organic farmer Chuck, The Hoff reported back that dude has had a psychedelic youth. Not all cylinders were firing. Ironic, since he doesn't believe in using any chemicals on his food.

Bedhead

I woke up, saw myself in the mirror and decided this hair deserved a self-photo and a self-mock.

I must have slept HARD all over my pillow last night.

Twinkle sleeps hard, yet his hair remains cute and right where it's supposed to be:

His smiling little mouth and terra-cotta-colored nose makes me want to just smooch him right on the kisser!

I need to find more productive ways to spend my days.

It's Good to Have Friendies

It was a good weekend. I found some relief from being swallowed up in pain. I had a massage on Friday, a therapeutic massage, not a frilly-silly-vacation-type massage. This one had to Accomplish Things, like get rid of some pain. It did a good job.

I walked around the house Sunday sans cane. Who knew that would be my standard for being a good day? Well, there you have it.

I've got other things to write about, tomorrow perhaps. I don't want to make every post about my poor dead Stanley or my poor bad back.

I will say this: I received a little pile of cards from friends and co-workers, and if I ever wondered about my career path being anything needed in this world, I realized the power of a card in the mail. When you're feeling disconnected from everyone, a card is a little envelope of cheer that arrives on your doorstep, to let you know people do like you and miss you when you're not around. I found myself giving the Sally Field speech to Kenny: "They like me, they really like me!" Thanks, Friendies.

Another Year Older.

Happy Birthday Mr. Anderson!

Well, technically not until midnight, June 3rd, but I won't be awake by then if I have any say-so in the matter.

His gift hasn't arrived yet. Maybe one year or holiday I will get the order in early enough to arrive in time for the actual occasion.

He will never even know that I wished him a happy day here because he doesn't ever ever ever read this. His theory is he lives it, why read about it, too? Whatevers. He could read it and realize how thoughtful I am, that I acknowledge him right here for all the Internets to read.

So that's that. Any reason for cake, I say.

The Pain in My Ass is Real.

How can someone as good lookin' as myself have such a hotmess of surprises going on under my skin?? That's the question I keep asking myself ~tongue in cheek~.

I got my MRI results quickly read to me over the phone by Dr. Not-So-Great. Seems I have quite a herniated disc and he said, "looks like surgery will be required to me, call this other Dr. NewGuy." Well, let me tell you, I don't really take referrals from Dr. Not-So-Great without question. He sent me to a horrible horrible horrible nerve doctor (whateverthehell they're called) back when I had arm numbness (that still hasn't gone away, by the way). All he did was hook me up to some electroids, send pinprick shocks through me, and tell me, "looks like some nerve damage, it will just have to regenerate itself, could take years." Yep, that was Dr. Not-So-Great's last referral to me.

So I have a call in to another person, someone the MRI tech referred me to. We're going to see what she has to say about this situation. At least 2 opinions if the first thing being said is "surgery." I don't think that's being too particular.

There you have it. I'll be at home sitting on my ass eating ice cream for a while longer. I really should use this time more productively, instead of surfing the Internet and chatting with old boyfriends on Facebook. I thought I had a book to write.