Happy New Year, Gentle Readers! On behalf of Hubby, Oakley, and myself, we wish you all the best.
This year’s greeting was delayed due to technical difficulties. On New Year’s morning, I turned on my laptop, and started going through my emails when it suddenly froze up for no discernible reason. Reboot. Reboot. And nothing. As soon as I finished with the dry heaves, we made a trip to the Apple store for diagnostics. A dead hard drive.
Luckily, Hubby’s sangfroid based in 35 plus years of engineering allowed him to get it tended to pretty quickly. And get a can of ginger ale down me while running through the troubleshooting protocol. He replaced the hard drive, downloaded the latest and greatest operating system, and had me back in business by yesterday morning. The only delay was waiting for the new drive that he’d ordered.
Otherwise, we had a pretty enjoyable season: good visits with my family; the usual excesses; and watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” on Christmas Eve.
And now with the turning of the wheel of the year comes some changes and projects:
Santa brought me a camera for Christmas. I’m excited to share photos of my corner of the world with you this year as well as food pics.
Expect more info and news on fighting hunger this year. I may not have the words to express the disgust I feel over vulnerable neighbors taking the brunt of greed, but I will certainly use the ones I have to do what I can on their behalf.
Expect a return to news and views on sustainability practices.
Of course you’ll get cute pictures of Oakley.
And now for the big one…..:
It is my pleasure to announce The French Farmhouse Project.
Once a week or so, I’ll be blogging about my efforts to live as closely as possible to how I would if I physically lived in France. I will also provide resources and references.
When I was much younger, I wanted to spend a semester in France, but it wasn’t meant to be. In 2006, I took a cooking class through a local community college that involved a stay at a chateau near Lyon. We spent a week immersed in life, food, and culture. Parts of my heart and soul never quite made it back. While I may not be in a position to make a return visit at this time, I can make some changes here at home to reflect lessons learned while I was there.
I like this little guy. Quite dapper with the bow tie and hat, plus the broom to sweep away the last vestiges of 2017.
We spent New Year’s weekend watching the “Downton Abbey” marathon on our local PBS station. Few other options for amusement existed. We had a small storm on Friday that dropped enough snow to make the roads challenging. As in what usually is a 30-minute round trip to pick Oakley up from day care morphing into two hours. On its heels came a brutally cold Saturday. Sunday wasn’t bad. We left the Crawleys and their staff to their own devices as we went for a New Year’s lunch and a new to us bookstore. Hubby found several books on woodworking and reproducing antique furniture. I found several history related books. A good time was had by both.
Monday sent the temperatures back into the deep freeze. If someone saw the two inch snow cover glittering beneath last night’s full moon, they might have thought that the midwest isn’t that bad in winter. Unfortunately, it can be. There are two options: a grey slushy day with temperatures in the high 20s or low 30s, or a picture perfect day of blue skies and sparkling snow with air temps that will shatter your lungs when you inhale.
Despite the cold, the earth spins on. We move onward into 2018. I will refrain from making any statements about it not being worse that 2017 for fear that 2018 will ask it to hold its beverage before spinning out of control.
Will we ever get back on center, though? I am heartened by the current wave of political activism. One of my personal resolutions was to get involved at least through making phone calls to express my support or displeasure to Senators Duckworth and Durbin. I also resolve to do what can to get the local Congressional rep, Randy Hultgren, out of office in November. He has been unresponsive and his staffers have been even worse. I’ll put my energy into getting in one of the candidates running against him, thank you very much.
We all have our work cut out for us. Let us continue. Let us begin.
We didn’t have a partridge in a pear tree. Nor turtle doves, unless you want to count their two mourning cousins who crashed into the back door while Hubby and I had lunch.
The last couple of weeks have been busy with a graduation (nephew launching into the great wide open); the family holiday gathering piggybacked on that to spare the Michigan relatives a second drive down in a week; a wonderful Yule party thrown by a couple of friends, one of whom is a culinary school grad; and yesterday came the season finale with dinner at another couple of friends’.
Today is the big deep sigh of letting go, of making space for the new year. It’s up to a whopping two above as I write, making it a good day to dream, to reflect. We’ll be back in double digits by Thursday, sort of, anyway. One of the almanacs predicted that we’d be cycling in and out of the deep freeze this winter. All OK as long as we don’t get the huge snows to go with it, or stay stuck there for protracted periods.
And that’s good. Several occasions warrant leaving the house whether I want to or not. We have a couple of vet visits coming up. The 10,000 mile annual check up and three year rabies shot needs to be scheduled with the regular vet before the 11th. Oakley goes to Dr. V for a recheck of his eyes on the 8th. We’ll be discussing what longterm management of his uvulitis [sp?], the autoimmune condition triggering the abnormal growth of blood vessels in the eyeballs. In the handout that she gave me, Dr. V said that humans who have it described the pain of this process as severe cramping. I’m not thrilled about Oakley being on Prednisone long term, but if it’s a choice between side effects from a maintenance dose of it or a 100% chance of him going blind in a lot of pain, I think you know which risk I’ll take.
So far, Oakley has had minimal side effects from the Pred and the anti-rejection drug taken with it. The former necessitates a couple more potty runs during the day and makes him hungrier and thirstier. The latter caused him to emit sulphuric gas clouds–no cramping or discomfort, just gas–the first couple of days. Since dogs have different standards for what constitutes a pleasing odor than humans, I’m sure he’s enjoying it. I swear I’ve seen him smile a couple of times after he’s cut one. His eyes are clearing up and he’s much more comfortable.
For now that’s what counts.
And even with the generosity of family and friends, there’s nothing else I could ask for.
Happy New Year, gentle readers. I hope that your end of year commemorations were peaceful and happy, or at the very least the local people in blue were not last minute additions to the guest list.
Mine passed peacefully, but not without a few bittersweet notes. My niece and nephew are adults now. Very odd to see them as such, especially my nephew with his shaved head. My sister and brother, now firmly entrenched in their 60’s, have finally figured out that 1. what happened in 1955 should stay in 1955 and 2. we no longer have the luxury of time to quibble about that, or which dead relative said what, or the color of the sky. The darker note was my sister in law’s diagnosis of dementia. The last round of neuropsych testing indicated that she’s holding steady with no deterioration since the last consult with the psychiatrist. For every remembered name, for every recalled detail, for the results of this doctor’s visit, we give thanks. We know what the future is likely to hold, but we will deal with it when it gets here.
The last chapter of 2015 completed, we step into 2016 with a focus on the truly important things. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. Intentions, yes. Resolutions sounds too harsh and unforgiving. If the intention comes to fruition, great; if not, oh well. My intentions are pretty simple:
to remain civil and kind in the face of the unrelenting wave of bat crap craziness that intensify as November’s presidential election draws closer. To remain civil and kind, period. I shudder at comments on social media and the lack of anything resembling manners in the real world. I’m not advocating the strictures of “Downton Abbey,” but can we say “please,” “thank you,” and “excuse me” at the very least with a response of “how interesting” when someone 180 degrees from you on the political spectrum tries to pick a fight?
revitalize meditation and yoga practices to help keep my brain focused and not let the ADHD gremlins hijack my thoughts.
to plant a vegetable garden this spring.
read more real books. I just read Anita Diamant’s The Red Tentand wondered where I’d been since it saw the light of day.
and the ubiquitous lose weight.
The last is a radical journey to what works. I’m combining two things that have worked in the past: paying attention to body cues and following an exchange plan that I used in high school. It’s worth a shot.
May you have a year of many moments worthy of your precious attention, and may you have a year of peace.
And for the sake of any deities you believe in, or for the sake of humanity, get out and vote in November.