"Mint" to be loved.

Holidays are full of things that you love. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, (maybe one more LOVE) all things mint. I bathe in it. Wash my hair in it. Scent my sheets with it. And above all else love to eat it.  I'm a bit of a mint snob, spearmint will not do. I LOVE the bad boy peppermint. At our house we make "Idle Isle" chocolates. For the lay public these are maple flavored centers dipped in chocolote (preferable dark, I'm a snob there as well) and rolled in chopped toasted almonds. Not so at my house, we flavor the centers.... you guessed it! With mint and then we dip in chocolate but we roll it in crushed up candy canes. Yes, I admit it's an addiction.

There are many things to wait for at Christmas time but I wait for the stocking of the shelves at my local grocery store. I used to hover to grab the first box of cherry chocolates. I only allowed myself one and I had to make it last the whole season. (The box, not the individual chocolates) But then my taste buds matured and they started marketing chocolate covered blueberries. Really? So I gave up the whole fruit centered thing and just searched out mint, and more mint. Again, I try to limit myself to one box or bag of something each year. What do you wait for every year? How many do you limit yourself too?

My all time favorite is Hershey's mint truffle kisses. They come in the dark green bag and they are stinking hard to find. Supposedly, my husband has hid one here at my home but I'm starting to think he just wants a thorough housecleaning because once I find a dustbunny I have to adopt it out of my house with the vacuum.
My son-in-law, Chad introduced me to these bad boys this year.

They are a very good second. So grab yourself a bag of mint M&M's and compare them to Hershey's mint truffle kisses and let me know what you think. This is not a paid advertisment of any kind but if either Hershey's or if the MARS distribution company would like to send me a case of either, that would be fine!!!
And if I can get them for free I may have more than one bag this season. Anyone know a good gym?

traditions...TRADITION!

This time of year my family tries to create certain experiances that we have had in the past. I don't think anyone ever really determined that they were our family traditions, more like our family expectations. Over the Thanksgiving holidays we had our children from Alaska with us, but the children in Missouri couldn't make it. So in honoring our Alaska visitee's we had Chocolate Pecan Pie. This is family favorite that my daugher Kat always makes, she was here, we had her pie. Amber, who was absent, is perfecting a cranberry jello salad. We couldn't serve it this year because she was missing. Instead we served "cranberry chutney". It's very simple but I will warn you, it makes alot. Chop 1 bag cranberries, 3 apples (peeled and cored), 3 oranges (peeled and separated). Stir together. Add 1 large can of crushed pineapple (drained). Stir. Stir in 2 and 1/2 Cups of sugar. Let sit overnight in the refrigerator. Serve with hot turkey as a relish. Yum, very tasty.

So at our home on thanksgiving day we have a "tradition" that formed without anyone knowing it was a tradition. After the meal was done and the dishes were cleaned up the family adjourned to the family room where I was asked, "Where is the thanksgiving DVD?" "What DVD?" Evidently in years past I have purchased a current DVD and made it available for viewing after dinner. This is so my entire family can succumb to the post-turkey tryptophan induced coma that they consider the best nap of the year. So does it really matter what DVD I put in? I didn't get the memo and I didn't meet the expectation of my children, there is always next year. Instead we tried to view an old VHS (yes, I still have some) on a newer HD model television, in case you haven't experianced this yet...it's blurry.

One tradition I did follow through on though, is without fail every year for as long as I can remember. I forget to wrap some gift and get it under the tree. Christmas morning I am always doing inventory in my head when I realize someone is missing something and have to make a mad dash into the nether regions of my walk-in closet. Since my children from Alaska will not be back for Christmas, we had Christmas 2 days after Thanksgiving and I forgot the chocolate oranges. My bad. This way they got to select which kinds they wanted.

I also can't think of "traditions" without thinking of "The fiddler on the roof". In the little town of Anatevka traditions determine how you sleep, how you eat, how you work and how you wear your clothes. Tevye is asked about the fiddlers on the roof. "And how do we keep our balance?" "That I can tell you in one word... Tradition." So that's the best reason of all to have traditions. To keep your balance. How do you keep your balance during the holiday season?

My Phone

THe prompt this week from http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/ is to write about your love for an inatimate object. I was resistant to admit my love for my phone. Well, it's really more of a love-hate relationship. I love that I can call anyone I choose whenever I want. I hate that anyone can call me. My children are forever telling me to answer my phone, to which I reply, "I only answer it when I want to." I love that I can silence the ring. I hate that the vibration mode always spooks me just a little bit when it goes off in my pocket. My phone has met with a tragic demise. There were warning signs for months that my phone was unhappy. I took my phone on my adventure at sea in April. It lounged around in my locker for 27 days. It's battery never recharged, it became listless and difficult to manage. I charged on my very last day in Peru and cheerfully lavished attention on it in the L.A. airport to alert all my family and friends that I was coming home. It responded by refusing to hold a very long battery charge. I would go from 3 bars of power to one then off and silent in less than 12 hours. I tried recharging it frequently, maybe this was the wrong thing. I caved into its demands, I bought a car charger.
Finally after one too many power outages I gave into my phone's teenage angst and I purchased another battery. A fresh source of power so we could start over and be friends again. Let all the past bygones be bygones. I had hope for a smooth future relationship where I could continue to love and hate my phone. But, by then the damage was done. It may have been depression. It may have been anxiety. It may have been performance pressure. I'm not a doctor, I can't diagnose. But now, my beautiful phone with the new power source became lethargic and distant. It would just turn off. No warning, no demands. It took a careful series of events to turn it back on. The case would have to come off. Then a warm breath would have to be blown across the battery and the sim card would have to be stroked firmly into place. Then the cover would be replaced and usually the phone could be coaxed into returning to responsiveness.
THen tragically last night, it all ended.
My phone in a fit of angst and tantrum vibrated from my kitchen counter to the hardwood floor below. I heard a sound that resembled "a clatter" and when I got there to see what was "the matter" I found my phone powerless and cover missing on the floor. AFter carefully, outlining the scene with a chalk outline, I picked up the phone and returned the cover. My phone has previously made this dive a time or two and been awakened after a brief resuscitive period. But, a las this is the result of last nights tumble.

So to whomever called last night giving my phone the vibration to leap from the counter, I'm sorry I have not responded back and BLESS you for finally putting my phone out of it's misery. It is in a better place right now. And never fear that my addiction with having a phone to call with should cause me to tremor with anxiety at the loss of my phone. I returned my sim card to my previous phone. It's okay, as long as you don't look at the duct tape that is holding it together. I will miss my pretty pink phone but mostly I'm sad because it is not time for me to upgrade so I have to pay for a new phone without any discounts.  Sad face.

All tips on the proper care and feeding of a cell phone should be donated to the comments section. I obviously need a refresher on how to have a better relationship with an inatimate object.

My other language

So in filling out forms for volunteer opportunities I'm often requested to list all languages that I am fluent in. I retained a fair amount of my high school spanish but would never claim to be fluent. Part of the problem is the 3 years I spent living in Germany where I used the language on the German economy whenever I was off the Army base where I lived. So I commonly hear the spanish but my response is usually in german. Few native spanish speakers know german. Thus a miscommunication often ensues. But I do know another language. It's medical. I sprinkle all my communications with things like ABG, CXR and CBC. No translation necessary. As many of my readers may not be so proficient in medical-ese, let me introduce you. Your surgeon will request you have an "I & D". Sounds innocent enough, but really... he's going to enlarge whatever wound you already have with some sharp instrument while you are peacefully sleeping. Then he will blast it with a copious amount of normal saline and let all the icky parts drain out. Not so innocent now, huh? What about an "ORIF". Again, peacefully you are asleep. Your surgeon will enlarge the wound making it "open". Then he will "reduce" it. While it is open, he's going to dig around inside, thus the "internal". Next, comes "fixation" which means he will use a variety of screws, nails, staples and whatever other office supplies are necessary to make your broken bones fit back together again. ORIF sounded a whole lot more pleasant didn't it? Thus, I may know another language but it's not really functional in polite society. So, do you have some medical initials that you want me to interpret? Nah, I didn't think so and I don't blame you. Innocence is always bliss.

Full disclosure...

I've been focusing a little bit on my "about me" page that continues to be blank. Trying to come up with just the right information that won't lead to much more embarrassment for my children then they already feel. People are multi-faceted so I'm considering which of my "warts" are note worthy. Let's first tackle the vices, well at least one of them anyhow. I have an addiction. I like to drink pepsi, from the fountain, the can, the bottle, pretty much in all forms. I have a friend who prefers Dr. Pepper and she even heats it in a pan and drinks it like hot chocolate in the winter. I am not that far gone but I hang with people that are. I'm pretty self-righteous about my addiction. I have other friends that drink diet varieties and I get on my soap box because at least I'm getting sugar from mine. I mean if you are going to drink brown water, you should reap some benefit right? I've read all the literature about how bad it is for my liver, how it contributes to belly fat. I even envision little skull and cross bones when I drink it. Making it a close cousin to poison. Doesn't change a thing. I just chuckle and figure I must be invincible to poison, must be a super-power. (see the next post) It's not that I'm without will-power, I just don't choose to use it. Maybe if it smelled bad? Maybe if it was less socially acceptable and not so ever present in our lives. Imagine having to roll a straw up in your shirt sleeve and take extended breaks out in the parking lot to enjoy your vice. Hunching your shoulders against the elements and the fear of being seen sucking back on 32 ounces. What if leaving your desk to take a bathroom break (the result of 32 ounces) required carrying a small key attached to a large wooden sign that said "soda drinker beware". So now it's up to you. What consequence can you think up to scare me from soda? This is a big challenge. I'm a mother and a nurse, I don't scare easy.

Yikes!! You mean I'm not really a super-hero.

Oh, how quickly have I lost my habit of writing every day or even every week. I was recently asked what "super-hero" I would be. It caused me to pause. I'd like some of those really clever tools, like an invisible plane and a lariat of truth and wonder woman of course was blinged out with those bracelets that could stop bullets. The whole climb buildings and flinging webs really works for spider man and of course bat man has that really tricked out automobile and an assistant named Robin. I think the first thing on my super power list would be language. While serving in Peru this last spring I came to several truths...1) the spanish I learned in high school while studying the male wild life in the class is not the same spanish spoken in Peru or any other spanish speaking area for that matter. 2) No matter how loud and slow you repeat the same phrase in spanish, if I don't know the words, I still won't be able to translate them. 3) I wasted alot of time learning things that have not served me well, like the lyrics to many songs popular in the 70's and 80's. 4) Fashion is relative. Somewhere I am a smokin' fashionista. It may be a once a year 80's party but I can truly work that look.
So back to my super-hero powers, how about to look better than I already imagine I do? It's always shocking to see pictures of myself, because I do a pretty good self-talk. So in the interest of not hurting my own feelings, I'm thinking I should ban all personal pictures. So if you take a picture of me, I would like my super power to step in and make me younger, thinner, and whatever adjective works that day. If I can't have that power, maybe, I should just step on your camera? What super power do you want?

Procrastinating is stressful.

So I was reviewing the text of Dr. Seuss' "Oh, the places you'll go" today. Somewhere near the middle it talks about all the waiting a person will do. I had a moment where I realized that this is the demon in me. I have learned from past experiance that just getting to work, gets the work done. If I try to list it, prioritize it, schedule it, plan for it. I'm doing many things, but none of them gets the work done. Oh, how quickly today becomes the future and my tasks remain unfinished because I made a list instead. I'm remembering too all the things I continue to put off until... until I lose weight, until I start a new job, until the first snow fall, until it is spring again. Yes, I'm guilty I "wait" more than I act. So today, I forgo lists and plans and I live outloud. I color outside the box and I spill milk with abandon. Join me in doing, instead of waiting.