I can't remember

a cooler July - and the record book bears me out. It was a cool one, from jeans and jackets on the 4th of July all the way through to today, which is in the 80's after it was 50 something over night.

Okay I think I overdid it. Have some cramping and pulling on my left side after a busy day of laundry and driving on errands. It's so hard to sit. Especially when my own expectations (and Paul's) are high. I'm usually good at being a slug, but only on my own terms - not when it's dictated by my guts (and Doc).

Back to camp. After 4 years at Bar-L, I graduated to a camp my mother and my aunt had attended. Camp Cheley in Estes Park, Colorado was a once in a lifetime experience for me. My buddy Sal and I went in the summer of 1969 - I was 11 going on 12 and a month was a long time to be gone. But I got over my initial homesickness and adjusted to life at camp in week 1.

Sally and I were put into separate cabins. Looking back, I suppose that was best for both of us, to help us branch out and make other friends. We were in Lower Chipeta with girls from around the country our age. One of my cabin-mates from was Hawaii! We all had to help at the lodge at mealtime and there was lots of obnoxious singing of camp songs. Thank God there was no square dancing at this camp!

We got to ride horses, hike, shoot rifles, archery, crafts and camping. We could earn awards by learning names of the mountains in the range near Estes. Or the parts of a saddle and horse. We were constantly challenged physically and mentally, but gently. I became very attached to my cabin counselors Colleen and Nancy and especially liked the overnight we spent somewhere in those mountains. Sally and I would walk up to the canteen at break time for a nice cold Coca Cola and a Snickers bar. We also liked the paddle tether ball game for excitement.

It was exciting when the month was over when my parents and the Rodgers came to pick us up. I felt I had been away from them for a lifetime. I'm sure my folks felt I had grown up some during my time there. I've got many fond memories from my Cheley days.

My cousin's daughter has been there this month - her 4th year at the camp, I believe. I'm glad the family tradition has carried on!

Camp

I'm a little senile, so if I already wrote about this, a thousand pardons. I could look back to see. But why, when it will give me so much joy to write about it?

My first camp was Bar-L Ranch in Guthrie Center. It was the camp of choice for folks from Atlantic, along with Camp Foster, which was the YMCA camp at Okoboji I believe. Bar-L was a horse ranch and I was crazy about horses from an early age.

My sisters went to Bar-L before me, so I remember riding along to drop them off, and getting a ride on their horses. What a thrill. We have home movies of Cindy trying to get on one pony, putting the wrong foot in the stirrup - very confusing for a young kid trying to figure out why she was going to end up sitting backwards on the horse. Ah, the stuff of America's Best Videos.

The year I turned 7, I got to go to camp with Cindy, who by then was a camp veteran at age 11, all knowing of saddles and such. Bar L was run by the Luckinbill family - Harold, who seemed to me to be a large man with a large voice. He was boss. The girls bunkhouse was located above the mess area, with the bathroom below. We all stayed in bunk beds. It was all very big stuff for a youngster.

The first day, Sunday when we got there, we were assigned our ponies. I was the smallest kid, and got one of the smallest ponies - a black one whose name escapes me now. The camp counselors would saddles them up and we would help get the bit in their mouths and away we'd go. I imagine my mother giddy, tears in her eyes thinking "a week with 2 less children!"

Each day would start out with a big breakfast of pancakes and the like. I can't imagine I took many showers that week, but we did go swimming a couple times, perhaps that helped me avoid stiff hair and smelly body. After breakfast, we'd go for a trail ride, and if I was lucky we'd get to canter in a circle at the top of one hill. I was in the group with the smallest ponies.

In the afternoons we did crafts like weaving plastic lanyards, punching leather key rings and making clay ashtrays. Early in the week we did a stint of square dancing - I still know a few beats, heel toe, heel toe. slide slide. I was too young to have sweaty palms about the whole deal. Though I was concerned about sitting by Cindy at mealtime, and when I budged in line I got a swat on the butt by Harold.

One night we got to ride our horses bareback! Wow, that was way different than riding with a western saddle. That ranked right up there with one of the biggest thrills of my life, the night at the bag swing camp. That was an area outside Guthrie where seed corn bags were strung on long ropes from trees. There were cliff and ladder launch areas. It was a thrill and a blast to conquer those bags. Better than Disneyland any day!

At the end of the week, we Catholics were forced to get up, don doilies on our heads and go to church in town. How I longed to be a Protestant on that day. Character building I'm sure. Then our parents would come to get us after lunch. I attended Bar-L some 4 years. One year I went with several Atlantic girls, including Sally, Barbie Gee and Barb Hutchinson. We had fun on a snipe hunt, at Smores and carved our names into the sandy rock above the camp.

My little piece of Americana. Carry on campers. One day, some twenty something years later, I got to take my darlin' girl Amy and niece Leslie to Bar L to spend a week. The circle of life!

The continuing saga

of what happened to my uterus. Hmmm where were we? Oh yes, a few weeks ago I described giving birth (or at least it felt like it) in the bathtub a month ago, and then my doctor's visit where - doo doo doo do (dramatic music) a polyp was discovered in my uterus.

So after much soul searching, I decided my uterus, as good as it's been to me, must go. After all - it (with a little help from Pablo the pool boy and my ovaries) gave me three kids. Surgery was scheduled for yesterday, and we arrived early, as per Dave Bullock rules. Check in was fairly simple, and we were soon shown into pre-op.

The lab/vein/urine (I know there's a better name but can't come up with it) person was right out of Grey's Anatomy. The Sandra Oh character - oriental and stoic. Nice enough, but prim and proper. Anyway, she got the job done, and soon I was naked, save for the nice thick cotton gown that did seem to cover my ass. Plus I got to put on some ted hose - I think that's what they're called. Now I really feel sorry for my friend Vic who, due to a history of blood clots, has to wear those often.

Then we waited for the Doc to finish up with his first date. Yes, there was another uterus before me. He stopped in briefly, told Paul that after surgery I should do no housework for 10 - 15 years. My kind of doc all right! Then off he went and I got a nice shot of Versed in my IV. Minute 1 - I remember thinking - this is like my first lemondrop. Minute 2 - OUT! Paul said I was mumbling. Then I don't remember a thing until post-op. No nausea, coughing etc.

Surgery took longer than expected - due to scar tissue. You may recall I had opted to keep my ovaries if they looked good. Alas - Mr. Lefty was a dud as it had a cyst. So out it went. Let's hope that was the root of all evil and all pain will now be banished - including my shoulder issues. Before I knew it they wheeled me into a room. A private one with no comatose woman in the other bed (memory from my last surgery).

I was hungry (see my blog from Monday). So I ordered pancakes from room service - still jealous from Monday's breakfast with my buddies. They weren't real good but I ate them anyway. I took a peek at my gut - 3 new holes plus my belly button. I got an ice bag to put on them. I told the nurse I hoped to go home that night.

A tech came in to remove my catheter. Yay! Later I got my IV out. Meanwhile Pablo waited patiently. I was feeling pretty good, and the nurse took out my IV and called the Doc to see if checkout was OK. We got out of there around 9, and stopped by Walgreens for meds. Home at 10:3o. Oh sweet home.

I told Deb I feel about as bad as after one of her tough ab workouts. haha. I'm a little sore when I breath deeply - probably due to them pumping me full of gas to separate my organs. I'm wondering what will happen now that I'm down 1 ovary. Don't see the doc for a month. Today I'm taking it easy. Fingers crossed no infection! Feeling thankful for all the good thoughts and prayers. I'm a lucky gal!

It's clear

I've been on clear fluids today in preparation for tomorrow's removal of my uterus. My date with Dr. Dornbier (above). He'll soon know my guts better than I do. Between today's diet and my guts, can I just say "ick!".

One does not realize how important food really is during each day until one (me) doesn't get to have any. I started out this morning with food in my face, by meeting my buddies for breakfast. It was my own fault as I suggested it, but that was before I realized I didn't get to eat today. We ended up at Family Table instead of S&K, because the latter was closed for vacation.

I tried not to look at my friends' food too closely - cuz it looked pretty yummy. I myself was having lime Jello and coffee with no cream. WTF!?! Who could live like that? Good thing I'm no super model - I could not exist on lettuce leaves. When I got home I had some tea and later splurged on red Jello. For lunch, chicken bouillon with a Popsicle for dessert.

Around 1 PM I began sipping some laxative drink that is like lemon syrup. Yuck. It's making me queasy and I'm sipping slowly. Compared to this slow torture, having my surgery will be an answer to my prayers!

I'm facing a long evening of no food. As I said, I didn't realize how much of my life was spent on the little decisions about what to eat when. It's something we Americans often take for granted. We've got lots of fruit that I'd love to eat. A cheeseburger sounds like heaven. But I'll survive. Next time I check in, I'll be uterus free.

Guy talk

I bet Pablo misses it. Talking 24/7 about sports I mean. Sports talk fills our home when Jud is home. Paul and Jud talk about our beloved ISU Cyclones. Mostly football this time of year. Jud watches all the videos of potential recruits, and pronounces his thoughts on them. Paul asks about position, speed, size etc. Ah the patter of guy talk.

When Amy went to college five years ago, little did I know our home would become a sport stalk mecca. No chick talk at all. Fashion, feelings, emotions - they were all banished. I was living in a house dominated by guys. Basketball, soccer and even baseball talk joined chatter of NFL and NCAA. I can hold my own when it comes to general sports-talk, especially about the Clones.

Sports ran rampant on all TVs in the house too. At times I had to retire to my bedroom just to get a break. I'd read or watch the small TV in there. In the living, when the television did get a break from sports, it was tuned to "Deadliest Catch" or "Dirty Jobs" - shows like that. Though rarely I'd catch Jud watching "Top 100 movies of all time" or but Paul would make up for it by switching to some hunting show, where they whisper a lot and shoot at animals.

So it was always nice when Amy came home and the odds were evened out again. These days it's just Paul and me, and Paul's not much for TV besides Sports Center and games - so I get to be in charge much of the time, except when football starts.

Sometimes I miss the good old days when we argued about the TV.

"Only later did she learn

he kept his best qualities, his wonderful qualities, deeply buried, as if mildly ashamed of them."

Isn't that a great line? It's from the book I just finished - Cemetery Dance, by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. It reminds me so much of Paul - at least the Paul I first met, trying to act cool and confident. I believe many people (lot of them men) are guilty of this.

Why is that? Is it not cool in today's America to be kind? It's cool to be a winner. So people are forced to hide their inner good selves in order to come off as a winner.

Ah pretty deep for a Saturday, I know...

My blue heaven

This morning I took a break from my work - yep, workin' at the 'ol home front today. I sat on my deck on a beautiful morning, reading an excellent Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child book. Birds were chirping. A white moth or butterfly fluttered by. Then I heard a hum and looked up to see a female humming bird checking out our flower pots. It must have decided Odie and I looked to iffy and it buzzed off. I don't get that kind of experience at break time during work.

I walked by myself this a.m., cuz we're a car short and I got up to late to ride my bike to walk with my buddies. I thought I'd see them on the walking trail, but I missed 'em somehow. But it gave me a chance to think.

I'm nervous for my upcoming surgery - a hysterectomy schedule for July 28th. I've decided to keep my ovaries - they're still giving it the 'ol college try at pumping out hormones. If they were removed when I have the hysterectomy I would go into immediate menopause. I read about the side effects, and they didn't sound like fun.

Dr. Dornbier, my new gyno/surgeon, asked me (at my pre-surgery meeting) if I was ready for my "date" next Tuesday. I told him it's not a date if I'm unconscious! Unless he's used to slipping roofies to women. He's funny, yet he was very thorough in explaining the risks of this procedure - a Da Vinci Hysterectomy, done by a robot - and the doc of course.

I keep thinking - 1 week from now I'll be on the mend. Fingers crossed.

"It's not illegal

to be stupid and sleezy in Maryland." That's just one of the quotes from CD#9 in the Tess Monahan (see it IS something Irish, and now I remember it) book I'm listening to, by Laura Lippman. Now that is a good line!

That's why I love reading (or in this case, listening). It's almost like music to my ears, listening to how the words flow. I love a good phrase. I just finished the book club book for this month. Hmmm not many well turned phrases in that. Murder on the Iditarod Trail is the name. It was okay, but I buzzed through it just to get done.

It was my week to forget stuff from home, so I left my good book - the latest by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child at home. As if I didn't have enough to look forward to by going home - Amy, my baby girl is flying in tomorrow and Pablo is picking her up in Omaha. Pablo is at home - he of the soft inviting lips, newly shaved of le bush.

My supper tonight was a bust. I planned to eat stuff I had brought from home. The Cantaloupe - ripe when I cut it, was mushy. I wasn't in the mood for my left over pork chop. And the grapes were too tart. Hmmm good thing I ate Mexican for lunch (Carlos O'Kelly's - Tasty Tacos yesterday was much better) - went along with 7 others to celebrate my co-worker Becky's bday - she and her twin sis (who also works for the Dept) turn 30 on Friday.

After lunch, I was working away in my cube, when my beloved popped in! I'd totally forgotten he was working at the Fed office today. I can't believe I didn't feel his vibes. That was a nice surprise. On my way home I stopped to pick up my new sheets (made of bamboo) at Younkers. I'll report later how what they're like.

Shout out to my former roomie KMac. Pretty quiet around here without you - nobody sings to their laptop anymore. Last night was my first night in the room. That room and the bathroom look pretty stark with all your stuff gone. Sigh.

Missing da bikers

It's the best week of the year to walk the Waukee bike/walking trail. Most of the serious bikers are on RAGBRAI. It would be safe to venture on the trail to walk. But I forgot my workout stuff. Damn it!

First thing this a.m. I went to see Sheryl Young for my pre-surgery physical. Had a mini EKG, blood work, peed in a cup and answered Qs. Then I got to visit with Sheryl who is an ARNP. She asked about the procedure and wondered if I was keeping my ovaries or not. Hmmm, she gave some reasons why it might be a good idea to ditch the little buggers. In the end we decided I should discuss it with the doc.

Then I spent a couple hours at the Environmental Protection Commission meeting. This is a board who makes rules for natural resources stuff. For the first hour we listened to the commission discuss hog confinements. Then it was time for public comment - each person who signed up was allotted 3 minutes to vent. The first ten people were against a proposed hog confinement in Van Buren County. I felt empathy for them. I wouldn't like my property surrounded by pooping hogs.

After that, a couple solid waste peeps (Hal and Cindy) spoke out against a proposed change in my rule. The one that spells out much of what I do. Chad, who has been with our department longer than I got the privilege of then getting up to speak about the changes. The commissioners grilled him about the part Hal and Cindy spoke on. If it goes through, our department will take in more $$ in solid waste tonnage fees - collecting for construction and demolition debris that is presently exempt. In the end, the commission voted as Chad asked them to. Next the proposed change goes before a rules committee. Stay tuned.

After a brief period in my cubicle, I then went to see Dr. Dornbier about my upcoming surgery. He explained the possibilities of the surgery. What could go wrong. Infection has the highest probability. Yuck! He listed off pros and cons on the ovary thing. Clear as mud. I need to call in the marines to help with this decision. My sis Betso the nurse and her loyal hubby Wayne the wonder Doc. Plus I need to discuss it with my beloved pool boy. Stay tuned.

Endangered snacks

I really enjoy Laura Lippman books, the Tess something Irish series. She's a clever writer, avoiding hackneyed cliches (such as hackneyed cliche). This morning I was listening to her most recent book on my way back to the Big City for work.

She introduced the topic of endangered snacks - Hydrox Cookies were one. Ahh Hydrox. Dad always liked them, and I must agree - they were much better than Oreos. Sweeter filling. The only problem with them was that we didn't have big ziplocks back then, and they tended to get mushy (much like Oreos) during Iowa summer humidity.

Other missing snacks include Pudding Cake, and its close relative, Shake-A-Puddin'. Are you sensing a theme here? Good thing the Bullock girls were so active, as Mom did feed our need for chocolate. Pudding Cake was a fab concoction that you purchased in a box, just like a cake mix. After baking it was a lovely mix of spongy chocolate cake and rich gooey chocolate pudding.

Shake-A-Puddin' was actually more fun to make than to eat. First you purchased a tan plastic shaker with a lid that snapped on. Simply pour in the powder and prescribed amount of milk and shake vigorously, then pour into cups (or into your mouth directly even before it set).

Does anyone make glass candy anymore? We did a couple times when I was a kid. I remember you had to use a candy thermometer to make sure the gooey mixture got hot enough to set when you poured it onto wax paper. We make cinnamon. We also made our own cinnamon toothpicks with the really hot cinnamon stuff you had to get from the pharmacist. I'd put both of those on the endangered list as well.

How about you - any fond memories of long lost treats? Wax lips, candy cigarettes, Nekkos? I'd like to hear what you miss.

my namesake

My niece Leslie Patricia Alvillar just turned 25! And she got engaged to Jordan Lopez a week prior to her birthday. I've not met him, but he sounds like a good guy. She dated him throughout college, and I think he was ready to get married right after she graduated.

But she wasn't ready to settle down yet, so they took a break and dated other people. Until last summer when she realized how much she missed him and they began dating again. Leslie went to college at Claremont McKenna in LaLa Land - Los Angeles. A big step after growing up in much smaller, lots more rural Grand Junction, Colorado. She's the daughter of the "matriarch" of the Bullock girls - Susan, aka Susi or Suso.

I remember when Leslie was born. She was the first grandchild for my parents and boy were they excited! Paul and I were newlyweds living in Osage. I was traveling for Gamble Robinson and was staying in a motel somewhere in Wisconsin - Fon Du Lac, I believe, when Dad called with the news. It's nice to have a niece with my same name, but I realize they named her that more because they liked the name and it is a family name - my Mom's Dad was named Herbert Leslie and I have a cousin Leslie as well. So I can't take full credit.

She was the cutest little thing and was the first tiny baby I was ever really around. She was 1 month old when Cindy got married August 18, 1984. Paul and I went out to Grand Junction for a couple days after the wedding and got to see what it was like to have a tiny one to take care of. Scary!

Leslie has always been smart and funny. She and sis Jordan make funny sayings up and remind me of my sister Cindy and myself. We like to hear ourselves talk. We like to laugh.

Jordan Lopez asked Susi and Jim for their permission to marry Little Leslie (as we in the fam call her) on a recent trip to Grand Junction. Then he took Les to Aspen and proposed on the gondola. They had champagne and a beautiful evening. Leslie has scads of photos with the engagement ring featured in many. Jordan event sent flowers to Susi and Jim that day. He thought of everything!

So we have a big event to go to next summer - Leslie's Big Wedding in LA. Can't wait.

frantic luncheon

I had planned a nice relaxing lunch with my buddy Christine. We'd not seen each other for a while. But job reality got in the way...

It all started Friday a.m. at work. I had a meeting on my calendar for 11 a.m. with a representative from the Environmental Protection Agency. So at the appointed hour I went to the meeting room. Door was still closed, indicating she was still with the meeting before mine - with some staff from 9-11.

So back to my cubicle I went. It's pointless to start something so I sat there contemplating life (and my weekend lack of plans). Then another trip down the hall - aha! Door is now open but staff members are still chatting with Jennifer, EPA lady. So I went in and waiting, standing so they'd get the message.

They didn't get it - so some 15 minutes later, they finally wind up their Q&A. My turn. So I hurriedly explain my mission, Environmental Management Systems, stumbling blocks, goals, projects etc. Jennifer seemed very knowledgeable and actually our jobs are very similar, just on different levels - state vs. mid west EPA region.

Close to noon my phone begins to vibrate. I'm going to be late (Dave B is rolling in his grave - that is IF he weren't cremated). But I don't want to be rude to Jennifer. In the meantime I'm being rude to Christine. Stress. Finally, shortly after noon we break it up and I quickly call Christine and start jogging to the restaurant. Luckily it isn't crowded, but service isn't quick.

C and I get caught up - somewhat. When we originally made this date, I didn't have another meeting scheduled at 1 PM. But now I do. So our get-together, while enjoyable, was sandwiched in between 2 work meetings. No leisurely lunch this. I hurry the guy to get my change and off I run up the hill to the Wallace Bldg. Need to pee that will have to wait.

Then...meeting person not there. Check her cube. Not there. Break down and go to the bathroom and when I get back she's in my cube. Good meeting with her. But my leisurely luncheon had turned into a frantic one I crammed in between meetings. I know...reality bites.

After meeting number 2, I'm ready to go home. Sleepy drive back to Creston. Rest in my chair until Paul gets home. Dozing. We chat for quite a while when I finally look at him full-on. His mustache is gone! I'd been hinting that it would be nice to see just what was under there since it's been something like 28 years since he's shaved it.

I think he looks younger. He thinks he looks older and is looking forward to growing it back. Nice kisses...no bristles...

I'm upset

because you just dropped a house on my sister. (a tee shirt Joan and I saw at Valley Junction tonight). I saw another one this week in the East Village that said "You had me at Mustache!"

They're so clever! I wish I could remember more.

Joan and I enjoyed an evening at the Valley Junction Farmer's Market. It was less like a market than a food fair. I had a smoked turkey breast sanny on a soft homemade bun, a pinch of yummy fudge that Joan bought and some chocolate ice cream.

Earlier today I enjoyed the 20th Anniversary of the Iowa Recycling Association Banquet and Annual Meeting. It was fun - attended by around 80 people. There was a panel on sustainability with 4 excellent speakers. Bill Stowe - the City of DM public works guy. If you watch DM TV news you've seen him. He's got longish gray hair, is a good speaker and is pretty sexy in my book.

Another speaker was a guy from a sustainability program Urban something. I admire those young guys of today who just shave their heads instead of suffering thru the Hair Club. He was one of those. Another nifty speaker. Hearing from people like that pumps me up!

Tomorrow it's a meeting with a young woman from the Environmental Protection Agency. She wants to hear about what I do. Then, it's lunch with my buddy Christine. We met each other oh 8 years ago or so. She's in her early 30's and I'm um older than that. But we clicked right away. Guess it's because she's a smart ass similar to myself. We used to get to talk quite a bit as we had a working relationship as well as a friendship - she works for a consulting company that my former employer utilized a great deal. Nowadays we don't get to talk as much, but we catch up quickly.

Then I have another quick meeting - with a DNR techie person about my website idea. I dream of a statewide website to hosting disposal information for everywhere in Iowa. After that I'm heading home! And...as another tee shirt said - I feel a sin coming on!

You can't judge

You can't judge a book by its cover. A very wise saying in my eyes.

When we went house shopping for our first home, it was hard to tell just what a house might be like inside by viewing the outside. Many times I thought I'd like a house, but inside it was a nightmare!

People can present a good package when you meet them, but when you get beyond the person they are at work or at school, they could actually be a mess - both figuratively and in reality. I've met people who dressed nicely in a business setting - well put together and attractive. But when was invited inside their house, it was piled with clothing on the floor of their room. Eeeew.

I've worked places that look very well run and organized at first glance. But when one worked there a while, it was a cluster f&(*. Both figuritively and literally. Crazyville and not well managed at tall. But the impression they gave the community was professional and successful.

People are very good at portraying what they want us to see. We put up a good front. We can be calm and professional at work, and then be miserable when we get home. A be-atch if ya know what I mean. We often save our real emotions/feelings for our loved ones, while treating co-workers with kid gloves. We can let our hair down with people we're married to - they're (kinda) stuck with us!

Often other people's lives look great from the outside

1. because they want us to think they're great and have the bestest life!

2. we don't walk in their shoes and feel their pain

3. we gloss over the hard stuff they go through because we haven't lived thru it with them - health, loneliness, setbacks in jobhunting or job

Randoms:

I walked on the Waukee Bike/Walking trail tonight. The first bike that clips me passing too closely will regret it! I will chase them down and push them over! Some ride by side-by-side. Wha? Be polite on the trail.

I won't ever be able to walk as fast as my friends, especially Deb. I know, I've bitched about this before. When I walk by myself it's just as evident as it is when I try to keep up with her. Maybe my upcoming surgery will loosen up my hips. Nah...

I visited Nahant Marsh in Davenport today for work. I enjoy getting out and seeing the sights of Iowa. We saw a heron and lots of prairie plants.

A woman I work with who also went on today's trip to Davenport announced that she's transferring out of our department. I have mixed feelings on that. She's a big personality and has been interesting to work around. But she's been unhappy and perhaps our department will be calmer without her. We'll see. Not sure who will take over her few job responsibilities.

I have to stay in DM through Friday this week and I'm homesick. It sure makes for a long week and short weekend! Glad I don't have to stay here 5 days too often.

Daycare part dieux

or however you spell it.

When we moved to Creston, Amy was just over 1 year old. The realtor who showed us around town told us his grandson went to a daycare provider who lived nearby the home we bought. Her name was Carol Frank, and she lived two blocks from us with her husband Mark and two kids Todd and Michelle (Missy), who were around 12 and 15 at the time.

Once I landed that lucrative job (NOT) at in bookkeeping at the bank, we contacted Carol about taking care of our little cherub and went over to visit with her and meet the family. Carol babysat for around 6 kids, some part time. She was probably in her early 40's, and seemed really nice. We decided this was a good place for our babe.

Through the months, as Amy went to Carol's, we got to know the whole fam and loved them all! Missy was available to babysit at our house when we did finally meet people and have social outings, and she was around Amy at her house a lot, so she knew how to deal with her.

The Franks, just like the Wubbens before them became like surrogate relatives. They came to Amy's birthday parties (and later Jud's) and the kids felt at home at their house. In fact when Jud was born, Amy stayed at the Frank's house until Bobbie picked her up to keep her all night.

Carol Frank kept our children for several years, until the Franks moved away. Amy and Jud became good friends with the other children at Carol's house. I think daycare is a great way to socialize kids. Plus there is a lot of structure there. Nap time was always after lunch. I relied on my sitters to get my kids on a schedule. (God knows I wasn't disciplined enough to do it!!)

Interestingly, both Wubbens and Franks were Baptists. Our thrived with those families.

Daycare

At work today my young co-worker, Becky and I were chatting about daycare. Her son goes to a home-based daycare when Becky and her husband are working. It made me recall the daycare providers our children had - some good ones. Once again, I'm reminded how fortunate we've been in our lives to be surrounded by good people.

In Osage, just before Amy was born, the Extension Director in Mitchell County - Neil Wubben asked Paul if we had daycare lined up. Our answer was nope. It seems his wife Karen was interested in getting into the daycare biz. So six weeks after Amy grudgingly made her way into the world, we first delivered her to their home while we worked.

The Wubbens raised several 4 boys - they had all graduated by then except Martin, aka Mart. He was a nerdish kid in middle school at the time. Karen loved having a little girl around - especially one as cute and mellow as little Amy Goldsmith.

As a new parent I was lucky to have a veteran parent like Karen to give me advice - and to get Amy on a schedule. In the one year we lived in Osage with baby Amy, we depended on the Wubbens a great deal. They were like favorite relatives, and acted like Amy was one of the fam. One of Amy's first words (after Cookie) was Mart! That's what Karen would yell at him when the school bus arrived, and Amy picked up on that.

The Wubbens spoiled us when it came to daycare. So we had our work cut out for us when we moved to Creston. But we were up to the challenge...

Right neighborly of ya

Above - my doggy bro Jud.

We've had some good neighbors through the years. As busy as people are today, I think we've kinda forgotten how important it is to be a good neighbor. And how nice it is to HAVE good neighbors.

I've written before about our neighbors in Atlantic, the Reinertsons. It was excellent to grow up with another fam with kids of similar ages right near by! The rest of our part of the block was made up of older folks - the Millers were across the street along with the Baxters (Harley and Mildred). Their city block was a wide one with enough room for a small corn field out back - Harley planted potatoes and sweet corn. He also mowed our yard (Dad traveled and had allergies, 2 decent excuses), and took care of our doggy, Jud (it's a family name, I didn't really name my kid after my dog) when we traveled.

Laurie Reinertson and I spent many hours messing around behind the Millers house trying to catch a bunny rabbit for a pet. Yes, I desired to have a dirty 'ol rabbit of my very own. A family always lived under Millers shed behind their house. We tried the cartoon method of tying a carrot on a stick that was propping up a box. Never worked though - rascally rabbits! (wascally wabbits).

In Ames, I met my beloved Pool Boy at my very first apartment at 230 Campus Avenue. We lived in the 400 units and he in the 200's right next to some of our girlfriends. So we ended up playing softball together. The rest is....well you know. True love and bff.

Skip through several apartments where there didn't seem to be a great deal of friend material only fighting and loving through thin walls. Ick. When we lived in Osage, our only rental home - duplex made out of an older house, the deafish lady lived in the other part kept us listening to make sure she wasn't dead. Wow did she play her TV loudly. But some other neighbors, the Walls were nice and gave us a gift when Amy was born. Later when we moved to Creston, we met their son who lived here. Small world!

When we moved to Creston, we looked at several homes to buy, but we settled upon one as our only true option - 201 E. Prairie. It was in a strange neighborhood - a school kitty corner, FmHA homes to the side and nobody right next to us. So neighbors were hard to meet. But once Amy grew up a little and we were outside more, we became friends with the Tyners.

Don and Betty Tyner were around my parents' age. They lived in a nice yellow house across the backyard from our house. Jud must have been around 3 when Tyners built a screened in porch out back. Since our picture windows faced that way, we watched progress through the summer. We began to wander over to check out progress. Of course Moki the wonder dog would come along. Jud was quite interested in the builder and building process and became chummy with Paul the builder man.

Don and Betty were always so kind to the children, who began to think that Tyner's house was like ours and they could just walk in the screened in porch and the house whenever they wanted to! Betty would make a big deal out of their visits and offer some refreshment. When Amy began to play piano, there would be a mini recital on Betty's piano. Don had a red Ford truck that he offered for us to borrow when we needed to haul stuff. We also borrowed their camcorder for important events.

It was sad to move away from Don and Betty - our surrogate grandparents when we moved to our present home. You try not to lose touch, but of course you do. We like our neighbors here on Port Road - lots of good families. I especially enjoy watching the kids grow up - it makes me nostalgic for those times with our children. (but only briefly...)

Don Tyner passed away a couple weeks ago. I saw his obit in the paper. It had been a while since I'd seen the two of them - Jud, in his little boy language always ran the two names together - Dom Betty. They were rarely apart. I know Betty will be lost without him. Peace on ya Don.

Yep neighbors are important people in real life. Don't take them for granted.

Farmer's Market

We enjoyed the Farmer's Market in Des Moines today with Bobbie and Jeff. It was a warm day, but a breeze kept it from being too hot. First off we made a beeline for
1. dutch letters
2. breakfast burritos, done by a family from Prescott, Iowa - just a few miles from Creston. They're to die for. Later in the morning there was a line a half block long to get one. There must be money in eggs!
3. Fruit (I got some on a stick- pineapple- probably not grown locally...), veggies and bread
4. The others (not me) did the wine tasting. I decided that could be headache material

We took a couple hours walking around checking stuff out. It was very crowded. There were lots of dogs and babies. Dachshunds were popular, but ours stayed home.

After the Farmer's Market visit, B&J headed to visit their girls and we headed to Homemakers to check out beds and couches (they call 'em sofas). I wanted Paul to see what they had there since we've already checked local options at Coen's Furniture, a fam run place here in C-town. We like the Coens. Beds at Homemaker's were lots cheaper but Mike Coen will check out what he can do with the bedding salesman Monday. I'm looking at couch fabrics online.

So far it's been a fab Saturday. Hope you're all enjoying yours!

New friends

I had lunch with a workmate today. Danielle (pronounced Dan-eel) works in my department in the Pollution Prevention Intern program. That is a very successful program DNR has been running for the past few years - Iowa companies get engineering interns from Iowa schools to look at all the environmental aspects of the business. In many cases the interns are doing analysis of waste streams, energy use and water use - looking for possible process improvements.

This year has been a little rougher than past years for the program. At the last minute a couple of the companies backed out due to the economy. But Danielle says this is a good group of interns. In a month or so they'll be showing us (and their employers) what they've accomplished. And they'll go back to school wiser and more employable. The company will have improvements to make when they are able to. Win Win!

I owed Danielle a lunch as she gave me a nice dri-weave DNR polo shirt she bought last year. She's a bit bustier than I, and it didn't end up fitting. So she gave it to me - 'ol plateau chest. Sometimes it pays to not be busty. Yep, I scored a free shirt so take that all you beauty queens.

We walked down to a piano bar a couple blocks down the street from the Wallace Building. We talked a bit about our background and families. Again I realize how fortunate I am to have the spouse, family and friends I do. Not everyone has been so fortunate in that department. I'm a lucky girl!

Outta the nest

My little buddy roommate - let's call her K - moved away today. I'm happy for her, but it's kinda like when my kids went to college. You're happy for them, and it's time. But it's a little sad. She's moving to Clear Lake where her sig other has taken a job. K will telecommute for her present employer.

K graduated from college last spring (2008) and took a job in DM. Her longtime honey still had a year to go in college, so K ended up living in Waukee (houseville-it's a suburb of lots of houses, not much else) with her Auntie Joan, who like me lives separate of her spousal unit each week. K spent most weekends in Ames with her honey, former roommates and friends. But she didn't really have much of a life during the week.

Since she knew this DM gig was most likely a temporary thing, she didn't spend time trying to meet people her age. And the people she works with don't seem to be "friend" material. The person she's closest with there is older than I am!

K's weekday evenings for the past year have consisted of working out, surfing on the computer and watching a little TV. Plus talking to Joan and me when we're around. K was stuck in transition- waiting for a future point when her real life would start.

I'll miss having her around - it's been fun getting to know her better. But I'm excited for her! Now she and her honey can spend some quality time together. They can meet people and join sports leagues. Stuff couples do. Real livin'.

Fist Bumps

Fist bumps and snaps all around to the Iowa Legislature. One year after the smoking ban went into effect, there are 2% fewer Iowa smokers. Better yet, I (and all my non-smoking buddies) get to enjoy drinks and dining smoke free!

Now if we could just get the rest of those pesky smokers to give it up. Some of them are so dirty with their habit - dropping butts wherever they are. Cigarette packs too. You'd think they'd want to save them since they cost so much these days! I think it's more than $6 per pack now. That's a lot of $$.

I really only smoked one cigarette in my life. It was the summer after my freshman year of college. I went the whole year watching 2 of my roomies smoke whenever they drank. But after growing up with two addicted smokers, I had no desire to do it.

I was a lifeguard that summer, working noon to 9 PM, 6 of 7 days a week. We partied pretty much every night. I worked with a super group of women. My friend Sally Rodgers, Marci and Cindy Merrick (mgr of the pool), Cathy Hjortshoj (you might recognize that name - Harry was her uncle), Kim Waters - a Massena girl who had interned for the job by starting as the clothes basket/office girl, Cindy Something - it escapes me right now, Pat Allen, Todd Pellett and Ted Simpson. My friend Julia Hoilien helped her mom run the snack shack. They had the best popcorn old maids!

The old Sunnyside Pool - built in the 1920's I think - by the Conservation Corps, had a loft above the office. It was damn hot, but we napped up there between shifts. Yeah, being a lifeguard is a tough job! Some night's we'd start drinking beer in the loft once the pool was closed. Once, when I was a little tipsy, I finally had enough (liquid courage) to do a flip off the diving board. Prolly not too safe, but fun. We all go along great! We did a lot of running around to other towns to party. Exira, Audubon, Oakland and parties in cornfields. It's amazing we didn't end up road side statistics.

So it was during this time, after watching many of the other guards smoke, I decided I wanted to know how to blow smoke rings. I was at our home at 202 Crombie in Atown. Mom had retired to bed to read. Dad, of course, was out peddling panties somewhere in Iowa. Mom's Virginia Slims were sitting there begging to be smoked. So I lit one up and gave it a try. I think they ended up more like smoke ovals. But I did it, and then put the cancer stick out. Then Mom remembered she didn't have her smokes and she came out to get them. "Leslie, you aren't smoking!" she blurted out. And I had to fess up.

Since that time, Mom of course succumbed from cancer. And both Sal and Cindy Merrick have battled breast cancer. I'm glad I stayed away from the things, but wonder what effects all that second hand smoke might have. I hope the smoking bans continues to discourage people from starting that nasty habit!

Minnesota Getaway

Above - Paul and sister Connie with Carol behind. Connie passed way in 2007 from breast cancer.

But not for me! Paul and my 'lil buddy Judson went to Minnesota today to visit Paul's eldest sis Carol. She has a beautiful place on Long Lake at Park Rapids - around an 8 hour drive from Creston.

Carol is 18 years older than Paul. So he really didn't get to know her until he was all growed up. But since then we've both gotten to know and love her. She's not had an easy life. Around when Paul was found under a cabbage leaf (born after 8 brothers and sisters) Carol was moving to Dubuque to go to nursing school. While she was at school she met and married Irv Meyer - known as Hap, from a small town just outside Dubuque.

Soon she was preggers - like good Catholics of that day. Carol and Hap's first child, Joseph, was born with fluid on his brain, and he died shortly after birth. Since is was the 60's, it was the era of "let's pretend bad stuff didn't happen." So the church women rushed to Carol's house and wisked away all the baby stuff. After a few month's Carol was pregnant again, and 9 months later, Tom was born followed by Terry a year or so later. Barb brought up the rear.

My impression of Hap is that he wasn't the easiest guy to be married to. When he was in his early 50's Hap starting acting very strange. The bank discovered he didn't have as many dairy cows as he was supposed to. He began repeating things that he said - acting kind of crazy. Carol was afraid he was drinking. After many months of this, Hap was diagnosed as having an early onset type of Alzheimer's Disease. He was soon institutionalized, and died a couple years later.

Carol was a widow before age 55, but she still had a lot of living to do. Even while Hap was alive, Carol found ways to keep busy - otherwise she would go crazy. The kids were out of the house by then - and they've all gone on to become very successful, wonderful people. Carol began riding her bike and went back to school to get her master's degree in nursing.

Then, a year or so after Irv died, Carol decided to ride on RAGBRAI (Iowa's big bike ride across the state) with Paul and their sis Jean and spouse Dave Fox. That year the ride went near Northwood, Iowa where one of the Docs Carol worked with in Dubuque grew up. This Doc talked Carol and her biking posse into staying with his widowed father Bud Kragenbrink. When Carol and Bud met - it was all she wrote. Bud's wife had passed on a couple years prior after a battle with cancer. Bud had 5 kids, and before long Carol was invited into the family. We attended their lovely wedding in Farley where Carol lived. Storybook!

Carol sold the Farley farm and bought her place on Long Lake in MN, and Bud and Carol lived the rest of the time in Northwood. They loved their lives together - traveling to all their kids (who all got along great, amazingly) homes. Sadly, Bud died of a heart attack in January of 2007. So Carol is again alone. She lives full time in Park Rapids now that she sold the Northwood place. She remains close to Bud's children, and travels to her kid's homes often - California, Idaho and Des Moines.

Here's to you Carol Goldsmith Meyer Kragenbrink. You're quite a lady!

Most excellent Sunday

Today was pretty good as post-holidays go. Usually there is a bit of a letdown. But it's nice when the 4th of July is on a Saturday or Sunday. You get a transition day that way. I enjoyed today.

Woke up at 8 a.m., grabbed a bowl of cereal. I remembered that I forgot to get dog food Friday. Damn - you can only get Science Diet 2 places in town and they are both closed Sundays. I called Creston Vet Clinic and I got lucky and caught the new doc there doing chores, so I buzzed out and got a couple bags before picking up Paul for church. Father Pins must have had a picnic to go to as he flew through mass. In fact I had to ask Paul if there was a sermon cuz I missed it! Must have been deep in holy thought. Something like "gee what should I eat for lunch?"

After church we sat on the deck and read the paper while drinking coffee - in my case fattening cappuccino. Did I mention it was beautiful out? The fog the weather people mentioned didn't happen. Sunny, light breeze. Our deck was heavenly. I did a bit of computer work, started some laundry and had a leftover burger for lunch. With avocado. Yummy!

About then Paul came in from putzing in the yard and said Bobbie and Jeff were stopping by for a bike ride. So I got my bike stuff on and wiped the dust off my bike - something I'd neglected to do after a long dusty winter. When they showed up we took off on a nice leisurely ride around town, after which we sat on the deck and chatted for a while.

They took off around 4 and I ironed clothes for the week and packed my bag. We ate supper - brats, melon and snap peas. I packed up some food for the week - ready to snatch from the frig in the a.m. Paul is leaving tomorrow too on a trip to MN with Jud to visit his sis Carol. So he was busy packing too. I read my book on the deck.

We took Odie for a walk and then went to the bank after supper, Odie riding on my lap sniffing the lovely evening wind. Tomorrow she'll go to Lila's for a few days - the puppy spa. I hope it's a good week for all of us!

Fave holiday continued

So the weather still isn't cooperating. I've decided to continue my holiday blog in hopes that tomorrow is so beautiful I won't have time to do it!

I graduated from college in May of 1980 - nearly 30 years ago. Crazy to think it's been that long. As I explained before, my job in Sioux Falls was a great learning experience. Mostly I had to learn to live by myself since I didn't know one soul in town besides my workmates. I was dating the future Mr. Poolboy, and his good friend Mike asked a big group of us to camp at his parent's cabin in rural Ridgeland, Wisconsin so we could tube the Apple River.

Sounded good to me, though it was something like an 8 hour drive. I drove to Albert Lea, MN and awaited friends to pick me up. I can't remember who it was that year - Moose perhaps? Or maybe it was Paul and Brad. We pulled into the Huston home place - quite rustic by my standards. A two seater outhouse. No running water. Mike's folks - Clark and Joyce were there along with his three sisters and one brother all younger than our group of about 12 or 15. The first few years, Clark's father Russell would come out from his apartment in town to sit with us. We shared the same birthday so he always remembered me.

We sat around the campfire that first night and got all loaded up. Then we drove into the big city of Ridgeland - 500 people, 3 bars and a small grocery store. Hustons had a huge tent that many of us slept in. It was all the usual suspects - Vic & Fred, Jane, Hauser, Mike, Tom, Brad, Catfish, a girl we called Hotsy Totsy, Bob and Jane E. And a few more I can't think of.

The next day Hustons cooked us some of the best breakfast grub I've even had in my life! They worked for Oscar Mayer and brought bacon, sausage - the whole 9 yards. We all pitched in to clean up, using water boiled on the ancient stove top in the cabin. Then we took off for the Apple River, some 45 minutes away. It was a raucous good time. We had lots of beer - tied to our tubes in a cooler. Back then there were huge targets along the river route for us to throw our cans at. There were few port a potties.

Jane had a good time as I recall, pretty much swigging the same beer the whole time. I imagine there was some recycled beer in there! Ick. It was a pretty calm ride until the end, when there was a riffle that swallowed poor Paul's glasses, and I sliced my leg on a rock. Good thing all the alcohol in the river cleansed the wound. Paul ended up wearing Lori Huston's glasses the rest of the weekend. On the way back from the river, we stopped at Teresa's - another little bar in the middle of no-where. We played redneck songs on the juke and drank more beer.

The rest of the weekend we hiked, explored an abandoned house nearby and mostly sat by the eternal campfire. Moose and Hauser put on the fireworks show with a box of fireworks Dad brought back from Missouri for us. There was a little battle ship that we floated in the horse tank and tank that flipped and fired into the crowd. We made s'mores of course, and I became a Turtle - you bet your sweet ass I am! One red hen, two cute ducks - I'll never forget it. I also learned the dirty Boy Scouts version of the Beverly Hillbillies song from Moose.

I have to say that first time at Hustons was such fun. Clark and Joyce were younger then than I am today, and they were people I looked up to. Great parents - demanding yet a lot of fun. They sure could drink! I grew to love the whole family.

Through the years, we went to Ridgeland many times for the 4th of July. Sometimes it was rainy. Other times too cold to tube. But we always had fun. We even took the kids for several years and introduced a couple Creston families to the joy that was Huston's Ranch. Writing this blog makes me yearn for those days. But I've grown to love 10,000 Crestonians and it's a lot closer to home!

My fave holiday

I'd have to say the 4th of July is my fave holiday. After 3 inches of rain and now on-going mist, it's not looking too festive this year. Fingers crossed that it quits by fireworks time about 10 PM tonight.

When I was a kid, we always attended the fireworks display at the Atlantic Golf and Country Club. We'd take a blanket and plop down around fairway number 8. The fireworks crew set up in front of the green. Before it got dark enough for real fireworks, they'd shoot those sonic booms. We'd begin creeping down the fairway in the dusky light, only to run back and dive onto the blanket when the boom happened.

The fireworks were so beautiful, but I remember the the most wondrous thing about the holiday was the family stuff. A couple years we went to Okoboji to my cousin's cabin. They were really second cousins - Dad's cousin CB Stewart and his colorful wife Eloise. My cousin Craig turned me on to the love of all things explosive! Black Cats, Ladyfingers and M-80s you could light with a punk. We played lots of games in the screened in porch. It was a good family time.

My parents had a lot of great friends in Atlantic. Several years we got together with them - including the Thedes, Ray and Virginia. Ray lost all the fingers on one hand due to an accident, yet could still golf. And Sheriff Ben Magill. I spent time at Thede's house looking through their son Bill's old Mad Magazines. Now those were entertaining! Remember the little drawings in the margins of the pages? The sheriff was entertained by tossing ladyfinger firecrackers at us while we shot off the illegal fireworks in our possession.

So the 4th was always a good memory in my childhood. No blown off fingers or drunken brawls. Stay tuned for tomorrow's installation - 4th of July post college. I hope you can sleep tonight - I know the anticipation is great.

Pumping Ethyl

While I've shared much of the story of my life as an employed person, I've not yet shared my first job story. As with all my jobs, the biggest thing about this job was the people. In this case, it was one person, my boss Harry Hjortshoj - pronounced Yortsoy.

Harry was a great guy of about 55 years of age. He had a ring of hair that tended to stick out below his bald pate. He had a very peculiar nasal tone to his voice, but his voice had a lilt to it that was always jovial and good natured, and he had a twinkle in his eye.

Harry ran the gas/service station our family frequented for some 20 years or so. It was a Standard Station first - when I was just a little girl. I liked to go there because he had one of those machines you could put a penny or nickel into and get a handful of nuts. You don't see those around any more. And he would let me stand on the hoist while he made it rise a few feet into the air - probably not too safe, but exciting for a tot!

When I turned 15, my parents wanted to get me out of the house more. I played softball but that was an afternoon, evening activity and back then we didn't play 50 games a season. So Dad asked Harry if he needed some help, and I began working a couple hours each morning at Hjortshoj Fina (after Standard pulled out of Iowa). I rode my bike down the big hill to work each day. Fun on the way there - not so much on the way back!

In those days, people didn't use credit cards for purchases - they had charge accounts that small businesses kept track of. As a car driver it was great! We could pull up, Harry would wipe our windows (usually with a greasy cloth) and pump the gas. Then we'd say "charge it" and drive off.

That was the era when gas had gone up from like 30 cents a gallon to around a buck. Harry had 2 pumps - 1 was regular and 1 was ethyl - the more potent stuff, a little pricier. The old pumps didn't have a way to price gas over a dollar, so the ethyl pump showed 50% of the actual price. The first tough lesson I learned was, remember to only put in half of what customers told me. It was embarrassing to tell them I screwed up and put in $10 worth when they only wanted 5$.

I also kept the books and did statements at the end of the month - all by hand. I worked a big adding machine and ran a ticket. Some people charged a bunch! Sometimes, when another person manned the station, Harry and I would run to get people's cars for service. Often, Harry would drive us to the home in his old Chevy pickup that had tire strips on the front bumper. I soon found out why those strips were in place, when I stopped at a stop sign, and Harry would ram into the bumper of the car I was driving - on purpose! Then he'd smile and wave!

Lots of people, including my grandpa, would stop for coffee each morning at the station. It was a regular hang out! Then Harry would yell "Lessie" (he couldn't say my name very well) "How about you go for donuts!". Then he'd slip me a couple bucks and I'd walk a couple blocks over to the donut shop. I learned to love fresh from the fryer plain cake donuts. Yum. He'd also send me for parts at the NAPA store. I learned to love that service station smell - kinda oily, tire scented. I still enjoy that today. Kinky, I know.

At the station, we had an Coke machine (of course - Atlantic Bottling had a monopoly in that town), but instead of pop in every slot, there were a couple cans of beer in one for when Harry closed up in the evening. He taught me how to fill out forms for tire adjustments. I ran the car when he balanced wheels. He had a few "bad" jokes he'd tell often - like when people wanted air in their tires, he'd say "we have a special today - colored air!" Sometimes they'd fall for it!

I've mentioned before that I am a former (maybe not so former) tomboy. I had my hair short even then. Harry knew I'd get dirty at work, so he gave me some of his striped work shirts with a Harry name patch to wear. Several times people asked him if I was his son. He'd just smile and say I was Dave Bullock's daughter. He paid me in cash, so I guess that job was off the books!

You can probably tell, I loved Harry. He was a good guy and I'm glad I had a chance to work for him at my first job. I hope I bring the same energy to work with me each day that he did.

Screamin' meemees

I had the brief bad fortune to be around kids acting like, well kids yesterday. I did see some cute babies while awaiting my ultrasound at the Gyno/Obstetrics office. One little guy was just walk that in that lurching Frankenstein (hmm 2 references to 'ol Frankie in 2 days) style. He was cheerful though.

The other kid I sat by, for most of the hour I waited, was an active 3 or 4 year-old. I actually blame the Mom and Grandma for that one. They didn't take along anything for him to play with besides a cell phone. Nonetheless he was bugging me - grumpy old lady awaiting word on her saggy baggy uterus.

Later in the day, when I went to Kohl's for a doormat (had a $10 coupon so it was only $5), shrieking boy was in the store. He too was 3 or 4. His mom was making idle threats that weren't working one bit. They were everywhere I went.

I felt her frustration. I remember wanting to smack my kid when he (yeah it was usually Jud) when he snapped like that. I was embarrassed for the mom, and for myself all those years ago when I lost it just as badly as said tantrum throwing child. Mea culpa, mea culpa.

Tipped tea cup

I must have been 10 or so when Mom had her hysterectomy at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. I remember asking Dad, "what's wrong with Mom"? He told me she had a tipped tea cup. Hmmm I guess I uterus could be considered a type of tea cup. NOT! Back in the 60's people weren't big on using proper names for organs of a sexual nature. I'm surprised Dad didn't tell me Mom had a problem with her tinkler.

Mom also had to endure several painful vein stripping surgeries for varicose veins. I am sure that had to be tough - to go from a hottie to someone with Frankenstein stitches all over her legs. Mom had to wear leg wraps for a long time after her surgery.

Back to me. After 3 hours in search of the cause of my recent female medical issues, today we have a diagnosis. I was lucky to get into see a partner of Dr. Turner who did my ablation two years ago. This was the first time I'd met this Doc - Dornbier is his name. Turns out he's the brother of Anita Studer in Creston. Small world here in Ioway. After Dr. Dornbier did an exam and heard my symptoms at his office on Westown Parkway in West Des Moines, he sent me back downtown for a vaginal ultrasound.

The waiting room at an obstetrics/gyno is an interesting place. Lots of pregnant women and their support systems - mom, husband, signif other. Lots of babies. And then there's me - a dried up old woman. I could tell the ultrasound tech was measuring something during my procedure. When she was done she told me to go back to West DM to see the Doc again. Good thing I'm enjoying my book on CD.

Dr. Dornbier said I have a polyp in my uterus. So it's NOT a tipped tea cup. Choices - hysterectomy or another D&C. One would be permanent and require an overnight at a hospital and 2 weeks off work. The D&C not as much, but not as sure a thing.

After my appointment, I felt down. I am feeling old and worn out and fat. A little pity party for myself. But sometimes one needs that. I'll get over it. But for now, allowing a little self-pity.