Today was Saturday, but there was no gelato or ice cream or frozen yogurt.
Last Saturday, in addition to Triple XXX, I also had delicious Red Mango frozen yogurt. I will have to tell you all about it soon.
But not today.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
A day for celebration
Almost 30 years ago I spent the early hours of my 23rd birthday glued to the television, watching the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. So it was only natural that I would also watch today when their son, Prince William, married Catherine (Kate) Middleton.
The wedding was beautiful. Westminster Abbey is an absolutely majestic setting and the ethereal voices of the choir, along with the pealing bells, organ, and trumpets added aural grandeur to the visual splendor of soaring arches and Gothic architecture. Even discounting the approximately 1000 years of history linking the Abbey with the royal family, Westminster Abbey truly is a setting fit for a future king and his queen-to-be.
As I watched the service, one of the things that struck me the most was the fact that this truly was a Christian wedding ceremony. The prayers, the hymns and choral pieces, and the address given by the Bishop of London all pointed directly to the Lordship and sovereignty of God the Father and His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. The ceremony was as much a service of worship as it was the union of a man and woman as husband and wife.
Listening to the familiar words of the vows and holy scripture, I wondered if anyone else was hearing the injunctions to commitment and fidelity while at the same time pondering the members of the royal family in attendance who had failed to honor their matrimonial vows.
Three out of four of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip's children have divorced. The marital track record of the royal family does not bode well for Prince William and his bride. Yet he seems to genuinely love Catherine and she seems to be equally in love with him. Hopefully her parent's successful marriage of more than thirty years will be the model that they will strive to emulate.
Most importantly, I hope they will choose to emulate the perfect model of Christ and His bride, the church. I pray that the words that were spoken and sung at William and Catherine's marriage ceremony are words that are living and active in their lives. I pray that as these newlyweds grow closer together as husband and wife they will also grow closer to Jesus, their True Sovereign. Their love and devotion to not only each other, but also to the Lord would be a powerful and beautiful testimony to an avid global audience.
The wedding was beautiful. Westminster Abbey is an absolutely majestic setting and the ethereal voices of the choir, along with the pealing bells, organ, and trumpets added aural grandeur to the visual splendor of soaring arches and Gothic architecture. Even discounting the approximately 1000 years of history linking the Abbey with the royal family, Westminster Abbey truly is a setting fit for a future king and his queen-to-be.
As I watched the service, one of the things that struck me the most was the fact that this truly was a Christian wedding ceremony. The prayers, the hymns and choral pieces, and the address given by the Bishop of London all pointed directly to the Lordship and sovereignty of God the Father and His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. The ceremony was as much a service of worship as it was the union of a man and woman as husband and wife.
Listening to the familiar words of the vows and holy scripture, I wondered if anyone else was hearing the injunctions to commitment and fidelity while at the same time pondering the members of the royal family in attendance who had failed to honor their matrimonial vows.
Three out of four of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip's children have divorced. The marital track record of the royal family does not bode well for Prince William and his bride. Yet he seems to genuinely love Catherine and she seems to be equally in love with him. Hopefully her parent's successful marriage of more than thirty years will be the model that they will strive to emulate.
Most importantly, I hope they will choose to emulate the perfect model of Christ and His bride, the church. I pray that the words that were spoken and sung at William and Catherine's marriage ceremony are words that are living and active in their lives. I pray that as these newlyweds grow closer together as husband and wife they will also grow closer to Jesus, their True Sovereign. Their love and devotion to not only each other, but also to the Lord would be a powerful and beautiful testimony to an avid global audience.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Thankful Thursday
Often something -- an institution or a possession -- is so much a part of our daily routine, that it is easy to take it for granted. It never even occurs to us to consider what life would be like if that familiar place or thing would cease to exist.
For me, WMBI Moody Radio in Chicago falls into that category. I really do take it for granted that when I turn on the radio in my car and push the first preset, I will hear the voice of a dedicated teacher or a song of praise. It never occurs to me that WMBI might disappear from the airwaves.
I am thankful for the uplifting music, solid Bible teaching and timely news and information that Moody Broadcasting provides for the people of Chicago, the suburbs and northwest Indiana.
WMBI is a blessing and encouragement to me and thousands of believers and seekers. It is both amazing and inspiring to hear the testimony of people who have come to faith in Jesus because they just "happened" to turn the radio dial to WMBI and heard the Gospel presented in a way that spoke directly to their heart and their situation at that precise moment in time! God is definitely using Moody Broadcasting and Christian radio all over the world to bring people to the point of belief and to draw them to Himself.
For me, WMBI Moody Radio in Chicago falls into that category. I really do take it for granted that when I turn on the radio in my car and push the first preset, I will hear the voice of a dedicated teacher or a song of praise. It never occurs to me that WMBI might disappear from the airwaves.
I am thankful for the uplifting music, solid Bible teaching and timely news and information that Moody Broadcasting provides for the people of Chicago, the suburbs and northwest Indiana.
WMBI is a blessing and encouragement to me and thousands of believers and seekers. It is both amazing and inspiring to hear the testimony of people who have come to faith in Jesus because they just "happened" to turn the radio dial to WMBI and heard the Gospel presented in a way that spoke directly to their heart and their situation at that precise moment in time! God is definitely using Moody Broadcasting and Christian radio all over the world to bring people to the point of belief and to draw them to Himself.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Lots of room for improvement
Lent is over.
So you might be wondering how I did with my commitment to stop swearing.
Not so hot.
I did make a concerted effort to not swear, but it was difficult. Some days were more difficult than others -- those would be the days that I got in the car and drove somewhere or watched sports on television. In an attempt to keep my penchant for profanity at bay I greatly curtailed my March Madness viewing, but I still struggled.
Unfortunately, swearing is an ingrained habit that will take me more than 40 days to break. But at least I've made a start and I plan to continue to work toward eliminating profanity from my vocabulary.
I think swearing indicates a lack of self-control as well as a lack of respect for the feelings and sensibilities of others. My mother abhors profanity and, out of respect for her, I try very hard to not swear in front of her. It would be nice if I would show the same respect to everyone who is within earshot of me, whether I know them or not. It would also be nice if I would show the same respect to myself.
Additionally I feel that when a girl/woman swears, it makes her sound hard and less feminine. Not feminine in the sense of frilly, fancy dresses and perfect hair and make-up, but less feminine in regards to femininity as it's traditionally expressed through acts of compassion, kindness, and nurturing.
My daughter was 14 when I heard her swear for the first time. The word she said really wasn't all that bad; in fact most people wouldn't even consider it to be objectionable. But I had never heard her say that word (or any other profanity) before. When she said *ss, I felt like I had been slapped. Hearing that word come out of her mouth was a physical and emotional shock to me.
Later I told her what I had overheard her say and it was obvious from her response that she was embarrassed that her voice had carried across the parking lot to where I was sitting in our car. She knew that the word she had chosen to use to express herself was not an accurate representation of who she was and the values that she professed.
Likewise, the words that I utter in anger and frustration are not an accurate representation of the person that I profess to be -- the person that I strive to be -- the person that I want to be.
Lent may be over, but the challenge, and my determination to meet it, remains.
So you might be wondering how I did with my commitment to stop swearing.
Not so hot.
I did make a concerted effort to not swear, but it was difficult. Some days were more difficult than others -- those would be the days that I got in the car and drove somewhere or watched sports on television. In an attempt to keep my penchant for profanity at bay I greatly curtailed my March Madness viewing, but I still struggled.
Unfortunately, swearing is an ingrained habit that will take me more than 40 days to break. But at least I've made a start and I plan to continue to work toward eliminating profanity from my vocabulary.
I think swearing indicates a lack of self-control as well as a lack of respect for the feelings and sensibilities of others. My mother abhors profanity and, out of respect for her, I try very hard to not swear in front of her. It would be nice if I would show the same respect to everyone who is within earshot of me, whether I know them or not. It would also be nice if I would show the same respect to myself.
Additionally I feel that when a girl/woman swears, it makes her sound hard and less feminine. Not feminine in the sense of frilly, fancy dresses and perfect hair and make-up, but less feminine in regards to femininity as it's traditionally expressed through acts of compassion, kindness, and nurturing.
My daughter was 14 when I heard her swear for the first time. The word she said really wasn't all that bad; in fact most people wouldn't even consider it to be objectionable. But I had never heard her say that word (or any other profanity) before. When she said *ss, I felt like I had been slapped. Hearing that word come out of her mouth was a physical and emotional shock to me.
Later I told her what I had overheard her say and it was obvious from her response that she was embarrassed that her voice had carried across the parking lot to where I was sitting in our car. She knew that the word she had chosen to use to express herself was not an accurate representation of who she was and the values that she professed.
Likewise, the words that I utter in anger and frustration are not an accurate representation of the person that I profess to be -- the person that I strive to be -- the person that I want to be.
Lent may be over, but the challenge, and my determination to meet it, remains.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Triple XXX
NO, that's not the title of an adult movie! It's the restaurant I ate at on Saturday in West Lafayette.
Triple XXX is a West Lafayette institution. It opened in 1929 and was Indiana's first drive-in restaurant. I think it might be a rule that in order to graduate from Purdue, you have to have eaten at Triple XXX at least once during your college career.
We have been coming to WL since July of 2007 when our daughter and son-in-law moved there to attend graduate school at Purdue, but Saturday was my first visit to Triple XXX. Even before E and N made WL their home, I had heard of Triple XXX, thanks to Guy Fieri of Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.
Probably one of the reasons we hadn't made it to Triple XXX sooner is because my husband is a vegetarian. He's a fairly good sport about going places where the only thing on the menu he can eat is French fries, but we try not to put him in that position too often. Triple XXX is definitely a burger place. If he wanted, he could have ordered a grilled cheese or deep-fried cod fillet, but that was it (aside from the breakfast items). But one thing that George was looking forward to trying was the root beer.
Triple XXX got its name because when it first opened, it sold a brand of root beer called Triple XXX. At one time there were over a hundred restaurants who were franchised to sell the root beer, but now the WL restaurant is one of the few establishments where you can find it. The drink got it's name because Xs were used as a means of rating products -- one X = good, two Xs = better, and three Xs = best. So according to that rating system, Triple XXX root beer is the best. And it definitely was good!
We had root beer, French fries, and a Triple XXX chop steak with cheese. Everything was good. I wouldn't say that the chop steak was the best hamburger I've ever had (I'm still dreaming about the In 'n Out burger I had in San Francisco and Kreckel's hamburgers in Decatur, IL are amazing) but it was good. Because I was still not feeling 100% after my ER visit on Thursday, I ordered my burger plain and only added a little ketchup. I would have loved to have had a chop steak with bacon, cheese, and grilled onions, but I didn't want to end up at the ER at St. Elizabeth in Lafayette.
If you go to Triple XXX, make sure you have cash (they don't take credit or debit cards). They do have an ATM machine, so you can always raid your bank account to pay for your meal. The restaurant is opened 24 hours, except for a break from 8:00 p.m. on Sundays till 6:00 a.m. Mondays.
Triple XXX is a West Lafayette institution. It opened in 1929 and was Indiana's first drive-in restaurant. I think it might be a rule that in order to graduate from Purdue, you have to have eaten at Triple XXX at least once during your college career.
We have been coming to WL since July of 2007 when our daughter and son-in-law moved there to attend graduate school at Purdue, but Saturday was my first visit to Triple XXX. Even before E and N made WL their home, I had heard of Triple XXX, thanks to Guy Fieri of Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.
Probably one of the reasons we hadn't made it to Triple XXX sooner is because my husband is a vegetarian. He's a fairly good sport about going places where the only thing on the menu he can eat is French fries, but we try not to put him in that position too often. Triple XXX is definitely a burger place. If he wanted, he could have ordered a grilled cheese or deep-fried cod fillet, but that was it (aside from the breakfast items). But one thing that George was looking forward to trying was the root beer.
Triple XXX got its name because when it first opened, it sold a brand of root beer called Triple XXX. At one time there were over a hundred restaurants who were franchised to sell the root beer, but now the WL restaurant is one of the few establishments where you can find it. The drink got it's name because Xs were used as a means of rating products -- one X = good, two Xs = better, and three Xs = best. So according to that rating system, Triple XXX root beer is the best. And it definitely was good!
We had root beer, French fries, and a Triple XXX chop steak with cheese. Everything was good. I wouldn't say that the chop steak was the best hamburger I've ever had (I'm still dreaming about the In 'n Out burger I had in San Francisco and Kreckel's hamburgers in Decatur, IL are amazing) but it was good. Because I was still not feeling 100% after my ER visit on Thursday, I ordered my burger plain and only added a little ketchup. I would have loved to have had a chop steak with bacon, cheese, and grilled onions, but I didn't want to end up at the ER at St. Elizabeth in Lafayette.
If you go to Triple XXX, make sure you have cash (they don't take credit or debit cards). They do have an ATM machine, so you can always raid your bank account to pay for your meal. The restaurant is opened 24 hours, except for a break from 8:00 p.m. on Sundays till 6:00 a.m. Mondays.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
On the road again
Another weekend, another road trip.
This time we're not going very far, just to West Lafayette to spend Easter with all of our children. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, but not looking forward to being in the car for an extended period of time so soon after last weekend's marathon journey.
I still feel a little queasy and sore from the gall bladder episode. : / I'm hoping that eating won't be a problem (or car sickness). Best case scenario -- I'll sleep most of the way there. : )
This time we're not going very far, just to West Lafayette to spend Easter with all of our children. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone, but not looking forward to being in the car for an extended period of time so soon after last weekend's marathon journey.
I still feel a little queasy and sore from the gall bladder episode. : / I'm hoping that eating won't be a problem (or car sickness). Best case scenario -- I'll sleep most of the way there. : )
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday
When I was younger I used to wonder why today was called Good Friday. When you consider how the day ended for Jesus, there didn't seem to be much about it that could be called good.
Obviously I had a very (VERY) limited understanding of God's plan to redeem a people for Himself. I am ashamed to admit (and so I won't) just how long it was before the picture began to come into focus.
This evening my husband and I attended the Good Friday service at our church. There were actually two services; we chose to go to the first service at 6:00 p.m. The church was packed. My husband estimated that there were close to 1000 people in the sanctuary.
Earlier in the day I was waffling as to whether or not I would go to church. I was super tired and still dealing with some discomfort from my gall bladder attack yesterday. The weather was cold and rainy -- all I really wanted to do was turn on my electric blanket and crawl into bed. I almost decided to tell my husband that I was going to stay at home, but then I remembered something that convicted me that I needed to make the effort to go to the service.
At least ten years ago, our former pastor, Kent Hughes, spoke about preparing for Easter. Pastor Hughes encouraged the congregation to commit to all that Easter had to offer. He wanted us to walk with the disciples as they experienced the high of Palm Sunday, the fellowship and final teachings of Jesus at the Last Supper, the depths of grief and despair at the crucifixion and the glorious culmination of God's plan for salvation in the celebration of Christ's resurrection.
Pastor Hughes felt believers could not fully appreciate the wonder and joy of Easter morning if they had not also contemplated the humiliation and unimaginable suffering that Jesus willing endured on the cross for our sake.
Obviously I had a very (VERY) limited understanding of God's plan to redeem a people for Himself. I am ashamed to admit (and so I won't) just how long it was before the picture began to come into focus.
This evening my husband and I attended the Good Friday service at our church. There were actually two services; we chose to go to the first service at 6:00 p.m. The church was packed. My husband estimated that there were close to 1000 people in the sanctuary.
Earlier in the day I was waffling as to whether or not I would go to church. I was super tired and still dealing with some discomfort from my gall bladder attack yesterday. The weather was cold and rainy -- all I really wanted to do was turn on my electric blanket and crawl into bed. I almost decided to tell my husband that I was going to stay at home, but then I remembered something that convicted me that I needed to make the effort to go to the service.
At least ten years ago, our former pastor, Kent Hughes, spoke about preparing for Easter. Pastor Hughes encouraged the congregation to commit to all that Easter had to offer. He wanted us to walk with the disciples as they experienced the high of Palm Sunday, the fellowship and final teachings of Jesus at the Last Supper, the depths of grief and despair at the crucifixion and the glorious culmination of God's plan for salvation in the celebration of Christ's resurrection.
Pastor Hughes felt believers could not fully appreciate the wonder and joy of Easter morning if they had not also contemplated the humiliation and unimaginable suffering that Jesus willing endured on the cross for our sake.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Thankful Thursday
Today is truly a Thankful Thursday.
Just a few hours ago, I was in the emergency room -- in extreme pain and struggling to breathe. I was pretty sure I was having a gall bladder attack, but I was also more than a little bit worried that maybe I was having a heart attack.
The fact that I even asked my husband to take me to the ER was a sign I was taking the situation very seriously.
The check-in process went smoothly and I didn't have to wait long before a nurse (tech?) took me to a triage room. She checked my blood pressure and asked some questions -- she wasn't very friendly, but she knew what she was doing. In no time flat she had me hooked up for the 12-lead EKG. She also took my temperature and pulse rate. In less than ten minutes she passed me off to a transport person who wheeled me to an ER exam room.
This is where things began to bog down. A nurse asked me to undress from the waist up and put on a gown. She said that the doctor would be in to see me soon.
Lies! Lies!
We waited and we waited and we waited some more. While we were waiting there was a "Code Red" accompanied by repetitive announcements, electronic beeps and really annoying flashing lights that seemed to go on forever.
Shortly after the "Code Red" ended, I realized that I had absolutely no pain. No pain anywhere -- not in my chest, not in my abdomen, not in my back -- no pain. Great. I finally decided to come to the ER and now I am pain-free.
Not long after my good news-bad news revelation, the doctor came in. He seemed really surprised when he asked how I was feeling and I told him I felt great. I bet he doesn't hear that very often! We talked about the pain I had been experiencing and decided that since I had made it this far, it would be a good idea to run some blood work and have an ultrasound.
Both the phlebotomist and ultrasound tech were great. Unfortunately I had to wait way too long for Transport to pick me up from ultrasound. And once I was back in the exam room it was another long wait for the lab work to come back.
Finally the doctor and a nurse came in and talked with me about the test results. The ultrasound showed that my gall bladder was filled with stones and sludge. No surprise there. I was almost positive that the episodes that I've experienced for far too long were due to gallstones. The blood work showed elevated gall bladder, liver, and pancreas enzymes that indicate gall bladder disease and pancreatitis.
The doctor really wanted to admit me to the hospital, but there was no way I was going to stay overnight. If I had still been in pain, I might have considered it. But I didn't feel there was any reason for me to be under observation when there really wasn't anything to observe.
So now I'm faced with the next step. I have a referral to a surgeon and I need to make an appointment with him for a consultation. I'll admit I'm scared, but I was even more scared this afternoon when I was afraid that I might die.
I am incredibly thankful for the medical care that I received. Every hospital employee that I came in contact with was incredibly professional, and with the exception of the first tech, they were also personable and caring. Chances are I'll need surgery in the near future to remove my diseased gall bladder, but I'm glad that I have that option.
Just a few hours ago, I was in the emergency room -- in extreme pain and struggling to breathe. I was pretty sure I was having a gall bladder attack, but I was also more than a little bit worried that maybe I was having a heart attack.
The fact that I even asked my husband to take me to the ER was a sign I was taking the situation very seriously.
The check-in process went smoothly and I didn't have to wait long before a nurse (tech?) took me to a triage room. She checked my blood pressure and asked some questions -- she wasn't very friendly, but she knew what she was doing. In no time flat she had me hooked up for the 12-lead EKG. She also took my temperature and pulse rate. In less than ten minutes she passed me off to a transport person who wheeled me to an ER exam room.
This is where things began to bog down. A nurse asked me to undress from the waist up and put on a gown. She said that the doctor would be in to see me soon.
Lies! Lies!
We waited and we waited and we waited some more. While we were waiting there was a "Code Red" accompanied by repetitive announcements, electronic beeps and really annoying flashing lights that seemed to go on forever.
Shortly after the "Code Red" ended, I realized that I had absolutely no pain. No pain anywhere -- not in my chest, not in my abdomen, not in my back -- no pain. Great. I finally decided to come to the ER and now I am pain-free.
Not long after my good news-bad news revelation, the doctor came in. He seemed really surprised when he asked how I was feeling and I told him I felt great. I bet he doesn't hear that very often! We talked about the pain I had been experiencing and decided that since I had made it this far, it would be a good idea to run some blood work and have an ultrasound.
Both the phlebotomist and ultrasound tech were great. Unfortunately I had to wait way too long for Transport to pick me up from ultrasound. And once I was back in the exam room it was another long wait for the lab work to come back.
Finally the doctor and a nurse came in and talked with me about the test results. The ultrasound showed that my gall bladder was filled with stones and sludge. No surprise there. I was almost positive that the episodes that I've experienced for far too long were due to gallstones. The blood work showed elevated gall bladder, liver, and pancreas enzymes that indicate gall bladder disease and pancreatitis.
The doctor really wanted to admit me to the hospital, but there was no way I was going to stay overnight. If I had still been in pain, I might have considered it. But I didn't feel there was any reason for me to be under observation when there really wasn't anything to observe.
So now I'm faced with the next step. I have a referral to a surgeon and I need to make an appointment with him for a consultation. I'll admit I'm scared, but I was even more scared this afternoon when I was afraid that I might die.
I am incredibly thankful for the medical care that I received. Every hospital employee that I came in contact with was incredibly professional, and with the exception of the first tech, they were also personable and caring. Chances are I'll need surgery in the near future to remove my diseased gall bladder, but I'm glad that I have that option.
Observations from the weekend
I know, the weekend was over several days ago. But my weekend didn't end until Monday and then some "stuff" happened, so this is the first chance I've had to process and recap.
Friday morning my husband and I drove to Oak Ridge, TN to attend a regatta. To be precise, we were at SIRAs (Southern Intercollegiate Rowing Association) to watch our youngest child row with Purdue Crew.
Observation #1 -- Oak Ridge, TN is a long way from the western suburbs of Chicago. I was tired of being in the car when we reached Indianapolis and I was really tired by the time we got to Louisville. At that point we still had more than four hours to go.
Observation #2 -- driving through the mountains in a downpour is not fun. It is even more not fun when said drive in a downpour lasts for three hours.
Saturday morning dawned cold, gray, windy, and wet. I had been hoping for/expecting much warmer weather.
Observation #3 -- when travelers from the north head south, the weather will almost always be less pleasant than they have been lead to believe. Although we did miss out on the three inches of snow that Chicago received while we were gone, the weather in TN was not dramatically better.
Our hotel room was very nice. I love to sleep in a king size bed. At home we have a queen bed; we wouldn't even be able to fit a king size into our bedroom if we tried. The sheets, pillows, and duvet were soft and comfortable. With all of that luxury, it was unfortunate that I only slept approximately 8 hours over the course of the three nights we were there. We had problems finding the happy medium between cooling and heat and I think that contributed to my sleeplessness.
Observation #4 -- If you love the pillow you use at home, bring it with you when you travel. It could be the difference between tossing and turning or sleeping soundly.
Friday morning my husband and I drove to Oak Ridge, TN to attend a regatta. To be precise, we were at SIRAs (Southern Intercollegiate Rowing Association) to watch our youngest child row with Purdue Crew.
Observation #1 -- Oak Ridge, TN is a long way from the western suburbs of Chicago. I was tired of being in the car when we reached Indianapolis and I was really tired by the time we got to Louisville. At that point we still had more than four hours to go.
Observation #2 -- driving through the mountains in a downpour is not fun. It is even more not fun when said drive in a downpour lasts for three hours.
Saturday morning dawned cold, gray, windy, and wet. I had been hoping for/expecting much warmer weather.
Observation #3 -- when travelers from the north head south, the weather will almost always be less pleasant than they have been lead to believe. Although we did miss out on the three inches of snow that Chicago received while we were gone, the weather in TN was not dramatically better.
Our hotel room was very nice. I love to sleep in a king size bed. At home we have a queen bed; we wouldn't even be able to fit a king size into our bedroom if we tried. The sheets, pillows, and duvet were soft and comfortable. With all of that luxury, it was unfortunate that I only slept approximately 8 hours over the course of the three nights we were there. We had problems finding the happy medium between cooling and heat and I think that contributed to my sleeplessness.
Observation #4 -- If you love the pillow you use at home, bring it with you when you travel. It could be the difference between tossing and turning or sleeping soundly.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Thankful Thursday
After much aggravation, worry and inconvenience, I think my parents have finally solved a major water problem at their house!
For awhile now they have been plagued with water in their basement. At first water would seep in only after a substantial rainfall or if there had been a large snowfall. But gradually the problem worsened to the point where only a tiny bit of rain would cause a trickle to form.
My parents have been so discouraged and exhausted from trying to deal with an almost constant amount of water in their basement. They are by no means elderly, but they are both over 70 and past the days when they could easily lug a full (and heavy!) canister of water from the wet vac up thirteen steps in order to dump the water out at the back of their property.
For awhile now they have been plagued with water in their basement. At first water would seep in only after a substantial rainfall or if there had been a large snowfall. But gradually the problem worsened to the point where only a tiny bit of rain would cause a trickle to form.
My parents have been so discouraged and exhausted from trying to deal with an almost constant amount of water in their basement. They are by no means elderly, but they are both over 70 and past the days when they could easily lug a full (and heavy!) canister of water from the wet vac up thirteen steps in order to dump the water out at the back of their property.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Disappointment
In an attempt to banish the blahs, I decided to stop at Baskin-Robbins on my way home from Bible study. I really like B-R's Mocha Cappuccino Blast and I hadn't had one in awhile.
What a disappointment!
I really wasn't paying attention while the girl was making the drink, but I did notice that she almost forgot to add the scoop of vanilla ice cream to the blender. If I hadn't seen her plop the ice cream in the blender pitcher at the last minute, I would have thought that she had omitted it.
When she handed me the Blast, I could tell the texture was off (definitely not as thick as usual) but I didn't taste the drink until I had walked to my car.
The taste confirmed what my eyes had suspected -- the drink was so thin and watery it was almost like drinking weak chocolate milk. : / I was tempted to go back inside and, in a nice way, express my disappointment with my drink. But I didn't. The owner was also working in the store and I was afraid that the girl might get in trouble. It's not like the drink was inedible; it just wasn't as thick/slushy as it's supposed to be.
So, I sucked it up -- my disappointment and the drink -- and drove home.
What a disappointment!
I really wasn't paying attention while the girl was making the drink, but I did notice that she almost forgot to add the scoop of vanilla ice cream to the blender. If I hadn't seen her plop the ice cream in the blender pitcher at the last minute, I would have thought that she had omitted it.
When she handed me the Blast, I could tell the texture was off (definitely not as thick as usual) but I didn't taste the drink until I had walked to my car.
The taste confirmed what my eyes had suspected -- the drink was so thin and watery it was almost like drinking weak chocolate milk. : / I was tempted to go back inside and, in a nice way, express my disappointment with my drink. But I didn't. The owner was also working in the store and I was afraid that the girl might get in trouble. It's not like the drink was inedible; it just wasn't as thick/slushy as it's supposed to be.
So, I sucked it up -- my disappointment and the drink -- and drove home.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Blah
I have really been struggling lately.
Struggling with:
not feeling well
depression
loneliness
apathy
aging
self-image
self-worth
transitions
I sound pathetic.
Struggling with:
not feeling well
depression
loneliness
apathy
aging
self-image
self-worth
transitions
I sound pathetic.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Some thoughts on the Shamrock Shuffle
* 40,000 people running through the streets of Chicago is a pretty impressive sight. (Only 32, 247 runners actually participated in the race, but 40,000 registered and thousands of people lined the streets to watch.)
* Eighty degree weather in early April is a little too hot for runners who haven't had the chance to train in warmer temperatures. The weather for past two years' races has been cold/rainy/snowy, so organizers can be forgiven for not being able to anticipate that today would be the warmest day of the year so far.
* The running population is made up of all ages, races, genders, shapes and sizes.
* The people who look like they would be the fittest are not actually the best runners. I saw people who looked like they couldn't climb a flight of stairs without an oxygen mask motoring along while lean and toned runners were struggling to keep going.
* Runners have a sense of humor. I observed many costumed participants -- lots of leprechauns, men and women wearing green ballet tutus, people in full body paint (green of course), Thing 1 and Thing 2 (in green for the occasion instead of their normal red and blue) and a banana. There were also a number of people who wanted to get in to the spirit of the race without committing to a full-blown costume, so I also saw tons of runners wearing all sorts of green clothing and accessories -- tee shirts, running shorts and tights, socks, Afro wigs, hats, and neckties (many of which featured shamrock designs).
* Costumes aside, some runners should have taken an objective look in the mirror before they headed out to the race and perhaps considered whether a more modest running outfit was in order. Yikes! Sadly this observation applied to men equally as much as to women.
* Most runners are careful to not spit or blow their nose on spectators. Some, but not all, runners are also careful to not spit or blow their nose on their fellow runners.
* Eighty degree weather in early April is a little too hot for runners who haven't had the chance to train in warmer temperatures. The weather for past two years' races has been cold/rainy/snowy, so organizers can be forgiven for not being able to anticipate that today would be the warmest day of the year so far.
* The running population is made up of all ages, races, genders, shapes and sizes.
* The people who look like they would be the fittest are not actually the best runners. I saw people who looked like they couldn't climb a flight of stairs without an oxygen mask motoring along while lean and toned runners were struggling to keep going.
* Runners have a sense of humor. I observed many costumed participants -- lots of leprechauns, men and women wearing green ballet tutus, people in full body paint (green of course), Thing 1 and Thing 2 (in green for the occasion instead of their normal red and blue) and a banana. There were also a number of people who wanted to get in to the spirit of the race without committing to a full-blown costume, so I also saw tons of runners wearing all sorts of green clothing and accessories -- tee shirts, running shorts and tights, socks, Afro wigs, hats, and neckties (many of which featured shamrock designs).
* Costumes aside, some runners should have taken an objective look in the mirror before they headed out to the race and perhaps considered whether a more modest running outfit was in order. Yikes! Sadly this observation applied to men equally as much as to women.
* Most runners are careful to not spit or blow their nose on spectators. Some, but not all, runners are also careful to not spit or blow their nose on their fellow runners.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Gelato, pt. 2
Another Saturday, another gelateria. : )
I was able to convince my husband that we needed to have gelato again this Saturday. He didn't seem especially eager, but he didn't complain.
Today we went to a gelateria in Elmwood Park that we have been to before, although it was a long time ago. I think the business is under new management or at the very least, they remodeled and changed the name. When we ate there before it was called Al Gelato. Now it is Massa Gelateria.
I was able to convince my husband that we needed to have gelato again this Saturday. He didn't seem especially eager, but he didn't complain.
Today we went to a gelateria in Elmwood Park that we have been to before, although it was a long time ago. I think the business is under new management or at the very least, they remodeled and changed the name. When we ate there before it was called Al Gelato. Now it is Massa Gelateria.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Thankful Thursday
I have been blessed with reasonably healthy children. All three of them were exceptionally healthy babies -- hardly any ear infections or strep throat. As they grew older a few issues arose, but nothing major or chronic. Thankfully none of my kids have ever had to be hospitalized.
This week the sweetest little boy I know had to spend three days in the hospital. It wasn't W's first hospital stay, but that doesn't make it any easier, especially since he is an active 3 1/2 year old.
W has RAD (reactive airway disease) which is similar to asthma. There are a number of triggers for RAD, but W seems to be most affected when he has a cold. In addition to non-stop coughing and difficulty breathing, this time he also was beginning to develop pneumonia.
I was so sad when I heard that W was in the hospital. I can't imagine what his father was feeling as he drove his son to St. Mary's. And as a mother, I know how worried W's mom must have been as she hurriedly left her job to meet her husband and son.
Fortunately W's grandmother was able to take care of his baby sister, enabling his mother to spend as much time as possible at the hospital and freeing up his father to return to work. W is blessed with a loving, close-knit family that is always there for each other. He is a very fortunate and much-loved little boy. : )
This morning my mother texted that W had been discharged from the hospital. How happy he must be to be back home with both his parents, his sister, and his doggies! I'm sure he is sleeping much better in his own bed, surrounded by the toys, books, and people he loves.
I am very thankful that W is home and feeling better. I pray that his parents will be able to find an in-network pediatric pulmonologist that will be able to help W.
As much as I love W, I know that Jesus loves him more. I am especially thankful that even at his young age, W is learning to love Jesus and he knows that Jesus loves him too!
This week the sweetest little boy I know had to spend three days in the hospital. It wasn't W's first hospital stay, but that doesn't make it any easier, especially since he is an active 3 1/2 year old.
W has RAD (reactive airway disease) which is similar to asthma. There are a number of triggers for RAD, but W seems to be most affected when he has a cold. In addition to non-stop coughing and difficulty breathing, this time he also was beginning to develop pneumonia.
I was so sad when I heard that W was in the hospital. I can't imagine what his father was feeling as he drove his son to St. Mary's. And as a mother, I know how worried W's mom must have been as she hurriedly left her job to meet her husband and son.
Fortunately W's grandmother was able to take care of his baby sister, enabling his mother to spend as much time as possible at the hospital and freeing up his father to return to work. W is blessed with a loving, close-knit family that is always there for each other. He is a very fortunate and much-loved little boy. : )
This morning my mother texted that W had been discharged from the hospital. How happy he must be to be back home with both his parents, his sister, and his doggies! I'm sure he is sleeping much better in his own bed, surrounded by the toys, books, and people he loves.
I am very thankful that W is home and feeling better. I pray that his parents will be able to find an in-network pediatric pulmonologist that will be able to help W.
As much as I love W, I know that Jesus loves him more. I am especially thankful that even at his young age, W is learning to love Jesus and he knows that Jesus loves him too!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
TMI
Thank heavens for the internet! What did we ever do before we had practically all the information of the world at our fingertips? If there is a day that goes by that I don't use Google, it's a day that I didn't use my computer. And those days are few and far between.
I'm always surprised when one of my kids calls me to ask how to do something -- get ballpoint pen out of a shirt, make kolacky, or conjugate some obscure irregular French verb. Seriously, what are you calling me for? That's why those two kids (now billionaires) created Google.
Actually I'm almost always flattered that my children think I am a repository of valuable information. But surely they know that half the time I use Google to answer their questions.
So naturally when I recently was faced with a delicate situation that required an answer, I turned to Google.
Based on something I read while meandering along a rabbit hole on the internet, I decided that I needed to start taking a B complex vitamin. Surprisingly when I was at Target a few days later, I actually remembered to check out their vitamin and supplement display.
Wow! Vitamins are expensive! I almost walked away, but I decided I needed to look at this purchase as an investment in my health . . . a $12.09 investment. But that was for250 275 tablets -- I bought the bottle that boasted that I was getting a "BONUS 10% More Free."
Now that I had made the effort to buy the vitamins, the challenge would be to actually take them. Let's just say there have been more than one or two times when I have purchased something, only to let it languish in the cupboard, closet, etc., unused. This time would be different.
Monday dawned and I dutifully took my vitamin with a meal -- breakfast (really more like brunch/lunch since I am definitely not an early riser). The tablets are fairly large, but I managed to swallow one without gagging. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. One vitamin down, only 274 more to go. : )
Now here's the TMI part. A few hours later I needed to go to the bathroom. I am not one of those people who need to examine every deposit they make, but there was no missing this. The urine in the toilet was bright neon lemon-lime yellow -- brighter than Mountain Dew.
I took a mental inventory of everything that I had eaten in the past twenty-four hours, but I couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary. The water in my toilet bowl looked like it could be used to dye tennis balls and I had no idea why.
After more thought I realized the only thing new in my routine was the B complex. Could it be the culprit?
What do I do when faced with a question I can't answer? Google to the rescue! I typed in Vitamin B complex side effects and instantly I had dozens of hits that told me that bright yellow urine was a common, and thankfully harmless, side effect of taking B complex supplements.
Phew. Thank you Google.
I'm always surprised when one of my kids calls me to ask how to do something -- get ballpoint pen out of a shirt, make kolacky, or conjugate some obscure irregular French verb. Seriously, what are you calling me for? That's why those two kids (now billionaires) created Google.
Actually I'm almost always flattered that my children think I am a repository of valuable information. But surely they know that half the time I use Google to answer their questions.
So naturally when I recently was faced with a delicate situation that required an answer, I turned to Google.
Based on something I read while meandering along a rabbit hole on the internet, I decided that I needed to start taking a B complex vitamin. Surprisingly when I was at Target a few days later, I actually remembered to check out their vitamin and supplement display.
Wow! Vitamins are expensive! I almost walked away, but I decided I needed to look at this purchase as an investment in my health . . . a $12.09 investment. But that was for
Now that I had made the effort to buy the vitamins, the challenge would be to actually take them. Let's just say there have been more than one or two times when I have purchased something, only to let it languish in the cupboard, closet, etc., unused. This time would be different.
Monday dawned and I dutifully took my vitamin with a meal -- breakfast (really more like brunch/lunch since I am definitely not an early riser). The tablets are fairly large, but I managed to swallow one without gagging. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. One vitamin down, only 274 more to go. : )
Now here's the TMI part. A few hours later I needed to go to the bathroom. I am not one of those people who need to examine every deposit they make, but there was no missing this. The urine in the toilet was bright neon lemon-lime yellow -- brighter than Mountain Dew.
I took a mental inventory of everything that I had eaten in the past twenty-four hours, but I couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary. The water in my toilet bowl looked like it could be used to dye tennis balls and I had no idea why.
After more thought I realized the only thing new in my routine was the B complex. Could it be the culprit?
What do I do when faced with a question I can't answer? Google to the rescue! I typed in Vitamin B complex side effects and instantly I had dozens of hits that told me that bright yellow urine was a common, and thankfully harmless, side effect of taking B complex supplements.
Phew. Thank you Google.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Gelato
I love gelato!
The first time I had gelato, I was a 16 year old foreign exchange student living with an Italian family in Sarnico, a small village an hour east of Milano. I don't remember the exact occasion, but we (Mama, Andrea, Laura, and I) were out somewhere and stopped at a gelateria for a treat. I ordered triple chocolate and it was delicious. What wasn't delicious was what happened the next day.
I woke up with a incredibly itchy rash . . . all over my body. I had never had any sort of allergic reaction to chocolate (or any other food) before and I was understandably upset. Mama decided to take me to the hospital emergency room for an examination.
Up until this point, I thought that Sarnico was a fairly modern Italian village. True, I had seen women doing their laundry along the shoreline of Lago d'Iseo, but my family had a washer and dryer in the very large bathroom of our spacious apartment. Maybe the women I saw on the rocks at the water's edge weren't quite as well off as the Gifantis.
But no matter the method of doing laundry, nothing prepared me for the hospital. Even in the "dark ages" of 1975, Italy was a modern, industrialized nation. Yet the hospital I found myself in was barely one step above something more typical of medical facilities in third world countries.
If I wasn't upset and scared before, I definitely was now. Adding to my anxiety was the fact that none of the hospital staff spoke English and my Italian did not extend to any vocabulary that would be helpful in a medical setting.
More than 35 years later, I can't quite remember what the hospital staff did to ease the itchiness. I suspect they gave me some form of Benadryl. I do remember that an actual doctor made a house call to our apartment the next day to see how I was doing. It seems that I must have bounced back fairly quickly, although Mama refused to let me have any sort of chocolate after that bad experience. : (
When I returned to the US, I could hardly wait to eat chocolate again. Predictably I had absolutely no reaction, itchy or otherwise, to chocolate ice cream, chocolate chip cookies, or chocolate anything. I have no idea what caused that one-time episode.
So today when my husband and I stopped at Paciugo in Forest Park, I didn't hesitate to choose chocolate as one of the flavors in my three scoop small gelato. I had a mini scoop each of Coconut Dulce de Leche, Creme Caramel, and Fondente -- extra dark chocolate. The flavors were amazing, so creamy and rich. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that I was back in Sarnico with Mama and my brother and sister, enjoying my first taste of true Italian gelato.
Thankfully I won't have to worry about itching when I wake up tomorrow . . . just calories.
The first time I had gelato, I was a 16 year old foreign exchange student living with an Italian family in Sarnico, a small village an hour east of Milano. I don't remember the exact occasion, but we (Mama, Andrea, Laura, and I) were out somewhere and stopped at a gelateria for a treat. I ordered triple chocolate and it was delicious. What wasn't delicious was what happened the next day.
I woke up with a incredibly itchy rash . . . all over my body. I had never had any sort of allergic reaction to chocolate (or any other food) before and I was understandably upset. Mama decided to take me to the hospital emergency room for an examination.
Up until this point, I thought that Sarnico was a fairly modern Italian village. True, I had seen women doing their laundry along the shoreline of Lago d'Iseo, but my family had a washer and dryer in the very large bathroom of our spacious apartment. Maybe the women I saw on the rocks at the water's edge weren't quite as well off as the Gifantis.
But no matter the method of doing laundry, nothing prepared me for the hospital. Even in the "dark ages" of 1975, Italy was a modern, industrialized nation. Yet the hospital I found myself in was barely one step above something more typical of medical facilities in third world countries.
If I wasn't upset and scared before, I definitely was now. Adding to my anxiety was the fact that none of the hospital staff spoke English and my Italian did not extend to any vocabulary that would be helpful in a medical setting.
More than 35 years later, I can't quite remember what the hospital staff did to ease the itchiness. I suspect they gave me some form of Benadryl. I do remember that an actual doctor made a house call to our apartment the next day to see how I was doing. It seems that I must have bounced back fairly quickly, although Mama refused to let me have any sort of chocolate after that bad experience. : (
When I returned to the US, I could hardly wait to eat chocolate again. Predictably I had absolutely no reaction, itchy or otherwise, to chocolate ice cream, chocolate chip cookies, or chocolate anything. I have no idea what caused that one-time episode.
So today when my husband and I stopped at Paciugo in Forest Park, I didn't hesitate to choose chocolate as one of the flavors in my three scoop small gelato. I had a mini scoop each of Coconut Dulce de Leche, Creme Caramel, and Fondente -- extra dark chocolate. The flavors were amazing, so creamy and rich. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that I was back in Sarnico with Mama and my brother and sister, enjoying my first taste of true Italian gelato.
Thankfully I won't have to worry about itching when I wake up tomorrow . . . just calories.
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