Beneath the Wraps

My dad had had a series of strokes later in life.   Some of them were so “small” that they went undetected.   The first one I remember had temporarily paralyzed the left side of his jaw.   Not realizing the magnitude of what was happening, we made jokes about it. Because he was such a quiet man, we commented that his jaw was sliding off his face as he never used it. It eventually returned to his normal appearance.   It wasn’t until later on that we learned his downward jaw had been the result of one of the strokes he had had. Dad started keeping odd hours.    He’d be awake while the rest of us were asleep and vise-versa.    He was in need of care 24-7 and it became too overwhelming at times.    We were told that the insurance he had would not cover a live-in aide – but they did have a list of nursing homes.    We did our best to avoid it, but it finally got to the point that we needed assistance.    I don’t kn...

Roland loves to cook.   He enjoys baking.   The kitchen is his domain.   Overall he is a really good cook. I can follow a recipe (usually) but I don’t enjoy cooking.   I do enjoy eating though.   Unfortunately it shows.           When he was working on commission, Roland cooked dinner all of the time.   It was great!   Especially when he would get a hold of abandoned recipe books and feel inspired to make something different every night.   I didn’t always like what he fixed, but for the most part it was awesome.           He has since found a job that pays an income that we can actually budget with.   But because he is required to do at least 40 hours a week,   I am now in charge of making the meals.   Roland doesn’t complain exactly, but always asks why I did this or why I didn’t do that or gives me helpful suggestions on how I can ...

          This post is dedicated to my sister, Kayla and our sister-in-law, Sunny.           Kayla has always been the strong silent type – both physically and spiritually.   She has always had tremendous faith.   She is a survivor.           When she was younger she could detect the slightest movement of a wrapper being pulled away from a food item (usually something unhealthy like ding dongs or cupcakes or m&ms) She wouldn’t even be in the house, but in the neighborhood.   Unwrap that piece of candy, and she would appear through the door.   But it had to be real.   We could never get her to come simply by crinkling cellophane or foil           She would say to my mom, “Can I have a piece of gum?” (or whatever)        ...

                    Jenna has always had a quite a highly active imagination – which is good.  She was able to turn the broken lounge chairs into a slide and used my exercise equipment as her swing.  It kept her entertained.           Not long ago she told me a story which started:           “Once upon a time, long ago, in a refrigerator, there lived some fruits and vegetables.  Each thought they should be the ruler of the fridge. . . “           As the story unfolds it had an apparent Romeo and Juliette theme going.  Only at the end the carrot and the apple run off together leaving the other fruits and vegetables wishing they had been nicer to one another.           She would ...

            Roland has six children – nine if you count the three that were never born – which he often does.   They’ve all been given names – though I doubt we’ll be raising the unborn in the hereafter.           Biff is the oldest.   He has brown eyes and looks just like his paternal grandfather.   Spitting image – only taller – which is saying a lot as Biff’s biggest hang-up about life seems to have been with his small size.   He really is not that tall compared to your average guy – but he is taller than those on both Roland’s side and his mom’s side.           Tony seems to get his looks from his mom’s side – though I haven’t really seen it.   The receding hairline is definitely from her side.   Though Tony towers over his mom’s small sized family (small individuals – the family itself is actually quite large in number...

          Overall I think the knit is a prettier stitch.  I generally like the feel and am impressed with the eye-catching cable.  It just seems more polished to me or something.  But I would rather work with just one hook building one loop at a time than two piercing needles that contain all loops and can easily slip and unravel.           Seems silly really as knitting has only two basic stitches: knitting and purling, whereas crocheting has a variety of stitches which can become complicated to my simple mind – just from reading the directions that is.  I think I do well with a hands on. Not always.  But if I have a personal coach explaining or showing what I’m doing, I can pick it up a lot quickly than trying to figure it out on my own.           When I was younger (much younger) my mom crocheted two beautiful coa...

I have a friend named Heather (actual name) who has this blog  in which she will often ask questions at the end of her posts.   Three of my answers have been so weighed with detail that I answered by email rather than leave a comment on the post, as some of my comments turn out to be larger than the post itself.   The first question I remember actually sending an email for was when she asked, “What are your triggers?”   At first I couldn’t think of one.   It was ten days before the Christmas tree skirt came out.   There was my trigger.   A horrible memory that I should just get rid of. And yet it’s a busy time of year and replacing the tree skirt is never a priority – and it’s probably petty of me to feel the need to replace it anyway. Before you can understand the trigger itself, you’ll need some background.           All too soon after the boys’ mother passed, Roland decided to marry S...

A truck will be coming around sometime today to collect used items.   We have TONS of clothes.   On Tuesday I forced Roland to clean out the closet with me – as a large percentage of the clothes was/are his.   He doesn’t like the way his 20–30 white shirts have yellowed, so we put them in a separate pile to be boiled.   When I went through the hamper to find some more whites, I noticed that the hamper was reaching the overflow stage and figured I should do something about it.           Normally I wait until Roland leaves before I sort the clothes – not to crowd him out while I am sorting.   It is actually best if everyone has left already and I have the entire house to myself.   Only I have been leaving the house, too.   I have been tending to my mom and sister and have forgotten all about the laundry.             Laundry is not even that bi...

          Everyday school crossing guards put their lives on the line – whether intentional or not. With the guard at Jenna’s school it is intentional.   Oh, sure,   there is more than one crossing guard, but Mr. Ruthless is stationed at the main street populated with cars and drivers with led feet.           Drivers might not respect Mr. Ruthless, but I think as I parent I would feel honored to have him as Jenna’s crossing guard (if we were near enough to go on foot) but because my usual route is to drop her off behind the school,   my encounters with Mr. Ruthless have been brief.           Mr. Ruthless is one who will intentionally put his life on the line.   I am floored whenever I see it happen.   And yet I can’t help feeling a sense of pride that he is seriously willing to lay down his life for our children. ...

          I used to think that a sore throat was the absolute worse.   I would rather have a headache, a backache, nausea, or sinus infection rather than a sore throat.   Or so I thought. A sore throat never made me disoriented. Have you ever seen the movie Innerspace?   As the story unfolds, we learn that Dennis Quade’s character has agreed to being shrunk and injected into the body of a rabbit.   But due to circumstances beyond his control, he is inserted into Martin Short’s body by mistake.           In order for him to see what Martin Short is seeing, DQ lands his vessel onto the optical nerve and then clamps on the seeing device tool.   On his initial land, MS experiences irritation.   Something is bugging him just behind the eye.   But then comes the clamp.   MS screams out in pain.           ...

For those readers who may not recognize any of the names in the title, let me introduce you to a very brief history.   The character of Dr. Jekyll was created before 1931.   He was a lab scientist who used himself as a guinea pig to test a potion which he had created.   I don’t recall what it is the potion was supposed to do, but as a result of his taking the potion, Dr. Jekyll would take on another – much darker – personality that was not the same as the one most people were familiar with. His alter ego became known as Mr. Hyde.   So even though Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were theoretically the same person – sharing the same physical identity (or body I guess) the personalities were very different.   Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is science fiction. Shirley Ardel Mason (1923 – 1998) was an actual person.   She’d been both physically and mentally abused by her mother.   Shirley had gone to psychiatrist Dr. Cornelia Wilbur in the 1950’s as there w...