Backdated posts ahoy!

I know, there's been a dearth of posts lately. Just to be clear, I actually did do quite a few things in July; in fact I attended two family reunions, one for each side of the family. But as mentioned in the do's and don'ts of social media, one should not make it too easy for stalkers and burglars. So now that my travels are complete and I'm safely home again, I'll be posting information about various adventures on the days they actually occurred.

Anyway, prepare yourself for a spate of backdated posts!

The house on Oakmont Lane

Our family moved into a rental house in Provo, Utah in the last hot days of August, 1983. I can remember that specifically because one day after we finished unloading the moving van into our new temporary home, I started the school year as a freshman at Provo High. I literally didn't know a single soul there, and my mother said that when she dropped me off at the front of the school campus on the first day, I was shaking like a leaf. But despite my fears, the kids at Provo High turned out to be kinder and significantly more welcoming to a shy, awkward teenage nerd-girl than the kids in the middle school I'd left behind in Northern California. I found my feet relatively quickly.

The rental house was a prefab home with an unfinished basement and a back yard full of boulders and little else. But it was at the lower elevations of Y Mountain, in an area known as the East Bench of the Oak Hills neighborhood, and the west-facing windows offered a gorgeous view of the city and BYU nestled into the valley, Utah Lake out beyond that, and the Oquirrh Mountains framing the sunsets. Even on days where "inversions" made the air khaki-colored and gritty and the Geneva Steel Mill did its best to give everyone in the valley lung cancer, the view was still striking.

And then there was the allure of the house right next door.

Looking up from the cul-de-sac, 2021

It was an imposing-looking place, two stories of red brick and an unfinished partial daylight basement, built in 1979 (so only four years old when we moved into the neighborhood). There was a minor tragedy about the place; the original owners had built it from the ground up, sparing no expense to create their dream home. It turned out that "sparing no expense" was their downfall, as they ran out of money and lost the house to a bank repossession. Hoping to get it back some day, they had placed a lien on the property that made it difficult for prospective buyers to purchase it. It was a gorgeous home, but we assumed we'd never have the finances to buy it, let alone the ability to navigate the legal thicket associated with the lien.

As circumstances would have it, the original owners still lived in the area when we moved in, and they attended the same church congregation we did. We'd been living in Provo for about a year when they discovered Mom was interested in buying their house, and by that point they had largely given up on ever getting it back. They liked Mom, and they liked our family, so they decided to remove one of the roadblocks to purchase by taking the lien off the property. Further, because it was bank-owned and had some plumbing issues from having stood vacant for a few years, it was offered at a very good price. In the summer of 1984, Mom bought the house on Oakmont Lane and we made what was probably the simplest move ever -- we just picked everything up and trotted it next door.

The house, like all houses, had its quirks. The huge room over the garage was originally meant to be an open-air deck, the solar panels on the side of the house didn't work properly, the roof leaked, the plumbing needed several repairs, and there was one particular section of the water pipes that tended to freeze solid in the Utah winters. But it didn't matter. We owned a home again, and it was ours.

When we first moved in, the house had three bedrooms, all on the top floor. With six kids in the family, we really wanted one more bedroom. See that little window at the bottom of the house, in the daylight part of the basement? That was the area where one of our neighbors, a contractor, framed in and finished a bedroom for my sister Julie and me. We shared that room from the time we moved in until I began a series of moving-aways -- first to a college dorm, then to a shared apartment, then to a year spent working in California with extended family, and then finally when I got married and moved out "for good" in 1993 (Captain Midnight and I did return to live in the basement for a couple of years in the early 2000s).

This place has been our family home for 37 years.

We sold it today.

None of us could afford to keep the place, and in any case Mom specified in her will that we should sell it and divide the proceeds between the six of us. We all knew it would happen eventually. Personally, I haven't lived there since late 2004; there are other places I've called home since. And in all honesty, it was only home because Mom made it that way. Since she died, the sense of "home" has slowly leaked out of the house, diminishing by degrees as the little treasures and furnishings and keepsakes were taken away. Now it's just a place.

But. It was a place where I practiced the piano over and over again, where Dan practiced his trombone, where Julie tried her hand at playing the drums and Tim worked on his practice chanter for bagpipes. It was a place where we sang together, where we told each other dumb jokes and family stories and laughed uproariously at them. It was a place where fights and family tragedies unfolded, too. It was a place where I'd often sneak our long-haired kitty Chamomile, who was supposed to be an outdoor-only cat, into the basement room for a warm, comfortable snooze. It was also the place where I returned with Chamomile's body in a cardboard box after her final visit to the vet, to bury her in the side yard. It was a place where Mom cooked homemade doughnuts at Halloween and oliebollen at New Year's, a place where the whole family (and many friends) congregated for Christmas julbords every year. It was a place where I went out onto the front balcony one winter night, looked down into the cul-de-sac and caught sight of one of my neighbors, a teenage boy, delightedly dancing in the falling snow. It was the place where I graduated from high school, where I spent most of my years in college. It was the place where I first got into dialing up BBSes, became a co-sysop and started meeting users, including a guy who called himself Captain Midnight. It was the place we held the murder mystery dinner party, when Mom first noticed CM and strongly encouraged me to date him. It was the place I first announced to my family that CM and I were engaged. It was the place where Miss V was born and where she spent most of the first decade of her life being, as my mom called it, "grandma's little sidekick." It was the place we came back to when CM lost his job and we needed somewhere to regroup. It was the place where my siblings and I helped Mom recuperate from the many, many surgeries and other medical procedures she went through during the last twenty years of her life. And it was the place where Mom had the catastrophic fall that ended up taking her away forever.

I know it isn't what it was. But it was home once, the shell of the place that used to contain our family. In many ways, it was the last vestige of Mom's presence on earth.

Maybe that's why it hurts more than I thought it would to let it go.

I just hope the new family that moves in will love the house on Oakmont Lane as much as we did. I hope they'll enjoy the million-dollar view of the valley, and I hope they'll learn how to accelerate into the cul-de-sac in winter so they can make it up into the garage without their car slipping down the icy driveway. I hope they'll enjoy taking a bath in the walk-in bathtub downstairs, and that they'll always have enough hot water. I hope they'll relish eating the apples and grapes that grow in the back yard, and that they'll become good friends with the neighbors (who are some of the most awesome people ever). I hope it will be cozy for them around the fireplace on the main floor, especially on January nights. Maybe they'll even choose to keep Mom's "Mexican restaurant yellow" color scheme in the dining room, because they'll find it as joyful and sunny a color as she did.

I hope it'll become home for them the way it was home for us.

And I hope they'll fill their home with memories to replace the ones we took away with us.

Springing Mom from the clink

No, it didn't really look like this. It was rehab, not prison.

Well, Mom is finally home. This doesn't mean she's finished convalescing, only that her doctors and physical therapists feel it's safe for her to be at home now, as long as there's someone to watch over her at all times. Yesterday I went over to the rehab center where she'd been staying and, after she signed some paperwork, promptly busted her out the joint. Her immediate request was to be taken to Trader Joe's, because PRIORITIES. (Hey, I guarantee that her priorities would be yours too if you'd just eaten some three weeks' worth of institutional food.) After a minor purchasing bacchanalia, we returned home, put the goodies away, ate brie and baguettes for lunch (because of course we did) and Mom went on a Poldark binge for most of the rest of the day. After evening meds and such she ended up falling asleep in the recliner, and she seemed too comfortable to move, so there she remained for the rest of the night.

No recliner sleeping for Mom tonight, though; she's asleep in her own bed for the first time in weeks. Today was a dialysis day, and dialysis always leaves her spent, but we still managed to get in three meals, all basic meds, some post-op maintenance activities, a doctor's appointment and a whole lotta episodes of The Waltons. (I'm so full of wholesome '70s programming I might burst!)

Now, with Mom safely in bed, I can do a little of my usual duties (la la la, laundry fairy!) and otherwise perform some minor cleaning around the apartment. Also I'll write down the things to be done tomorrow in my bullet journal, which has been a lifesaver on this trip. Mom has a number of daily needs (mostly the timing of medications) that would be tough for my little ADHD-riddled brain to keep track of if I hadn't brought it along.

Oh, and guess what. Mom has another surgery scheduled for the 25th. Her latest fistula revision didn't take properly, so they get to fiddle around with her arm some more. yay.

Da momz

Well, Mom is recuperating very well from surgery. She's hit all her physical therapy targets and then some, her appetite is starting to return, she's doing more and more things for herself and she's feeling better each day. Her goal is to be checked out of the rehab center and home by Tuesday.

I still have a few concerns. Because her depth perception is off (and probably always will be, thanks to some old surgeries on her eyes), she is a potential fall risk and I can't pick her up. Her bed at home is also pretty high off the ground and can't be lowered, unless we dismantle the bed frame and put the box spring and mattress right on the floor. But at this point, I think she'll be relatively safe at home. That said, she's going to need someone with her for at least another few weeks -- I think her surgeon said six weeks is the average time needed to recuperate from surgery.

Thanks so much to those who sent prayers and kind thoughts to Mom. She's gotten better much faster than I anticipated, and it's a huge blessing.

The final Mom update of the month

I don't dislike the rehab center where Mom is staying, but they don't have enough staff members to take care of everyone on the weekends. I found out that on Saturday Mom was left to fend for herself for about an hour, and no amount of her pressing the call button seemed to bring help. That's really not acceptable hang time for a recuperating heart patient. On several occasions while I was there, I tried using the call button myself and got no response; the only thing that worked was to trot down to the nurses' station and ask for what we needed in person. They are going to be sick of me doing this by the time Mom's ready to go home, but if showing up and pointedly asking gets the desired results, that's what I'll do.

Today I got Mom cleaned up and dressed for an outing, put her in a wheelchair and sprung her from the clink for a few hours. She enjoyed the drive and getting some sun on her face, and I took her home for a few hours, where she spent some time with Miss V, binge-watched episodes of The Waltons and ate a homemade hot lunch. However, by the time she was ready to go back to the rehab center, she was close to exhausted -- she hadn't sat upright for that many hours since her surgery, and she said the experience made her realize that she really wasn't strong enough to be at home full-time yet. As soon as she got back, she changed into her nightgown and got straight into bed.

The good news is that Mom is improving day by day. She doesn't need any pain medication to sleep through the night, she goes to physical therapy every day, and although she's still weak, she's much stronger than she was just a week ago. She is positive and in good spirits, and determined to do what it takes to go home.

Another day, another update

So yesterday Mom was discharged from the hospital. And there was much rejoicing. *yay* She went directly to the same rehab center where she stayed when she got her hip replacement, so most of the people there remembered her and greeted her like an old friend. She had something to eat, watched the Kavanaugh hearings (no, don't ask. I've got my opinions, but this isn't the appropriate place to vent them) and went to bed.

Today I was kept pretty busy getting everything ready for Miss V's 22nd birthday. It was a small but happy gathering. V went over to visit Mom and brought presents so she could open them in front of her grandma. We were also all wearing purple "Happy Birthday" tiaras and blowing into noisemakers, so I think we kept the nurses entertained. My sister and I stayed late and helped Mom get ready for bed. We left her listening to the Audible version of Nothing to Envy, about life in North Korea.

Later, back at the house, we sang V the birthday song, had ice cream cake, V's mom rolled some sushi, that kinda thing. I am slightly overfull right now, but not dangerously so. Hoping to keep it that way. I hope it was a good birthday for V.

Today's update (plus a sidebar on eating after DS surgery)

So, here's how things went with Mom today.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays are dialysis days for Mom, so around 10:30 they wheeled her off to the mysterious place in the hospital where dialysis happens (I was not allowed to accompany her, so I ran errands, cleaned house, etc. for the next four hours). Dialysis always takes a lot out of Mom, both literally and figuratively. When she came back, she was exhausted. She'd also missed lunch, so she got a small snack to tide her over to the next meal. Unfortunately, her blood pressure dipped low again during dialysis and they weren't able to bring it up sufficiently, so they didn't take much liquid off her today. This likely means that Friday's dialysis session will be rough on her.

Despite being tired and having difficulty standing for even short periods of time, Mom underwent two different rounds of physical therapy today. She walked further than she ever has before. Go Mom!

Mom's heart surgeon stopped by in the late afternoon to check her vitals and see how she was feeling. She's still draining from a couple of tubes attached to her chest cavity, but I guess that's well within normal parameters a week after surgery. The surgeon didn't seem to believe Mom when she told him her typical dialysis dry weight, which was a little frustrating to her. Mom may be physically frail, but she's very mentally sharp and she knows her own dialysis stats. At any rate, if things go well she should be released to the rehab facility some time tomorrow. We've planned ahead by bringing her a change of clothing, so she doesn't have to be sent off in a hospital gown.

We ordered dinner so it would arrive at a reasonable hour, and Mom ate most of it, not having had much else to eat today. She watched a little TV, mostly Animal Planet and Discovery Channel. (Apparently there's this one show on Animal Planet that's all about these guys who build treehouses, and she's fascinated by it.) Nurses and respiratory therapists stopped by to do their thing. Everyone at this hospital has been very kind, solicitous and gentle with Mom, which I appreciate. A few hours after dinner I took my leave to pick up a few things, as Miss V's birthday is on Friday and I want to make sure I've gotten as much done as I can in advance to prep for her party.

* * *

And now, a little something about eating after DS surgery.

As I've mentioned elsewhere, I've had a tough time getting used to how much -- or, to be more precise, how little -- I can eat after surgery. It does help to visualize my new stomach as about the size of a banana to determine what will fit, but it's not precise. Liquid foods, for instance, go down easily and I can eat almost as much broth-based soup now as I did before surgery. Dense foods, on the other hand, fill me up so quickly that I can make myself dangerously overfull before I know it. Plus I'm fighting a lifetime of mental experience about how much I'm capable of eating at once; none of that information is accurate any more, but it will take a while until my brain and body sync up properly.

And today I figured out something else: if I dole out my own servings of food, I err on the side of caution and rarely end up eating too much, but if I let someone else determine my serving size (looking at you, takeout food), I try to finish it all and end up overfilling my tum. This has led to a couple of *blorp* incidents while I've been in Utah.

Not. Good.

I don't have much time to cook for myself since I've been spending most of the day in the hospital, but in future I think I'll be better off picking up items from the deli or Trader Joe's, portioning them out sanely and eating slowly, rather than snarfing down something from a drive-thru window. (Tempting and yummy as that option may be, it's not worth the unpleasant aftereffects. Barfing is not an entertaining activity.)

Even more stuff about Mom

So today, as every Monday, Mom had dialysis (Dialysis: ICU Edition!). Afterward we talked pretty seriously about what she should do after her hospital stay. Mom was all in favor of going straight home, but my sister and I talked to her very seriously about spending some time in a rehabilitation center to get stronger. (Here's my reasoning: during at least part of her convalescence, I will be the only one of my siblings on Mom-watch. Mom is a strong fall risk; she's still weak after surgery and unsteady on her feet, and had a spectacular fall at home the week before surgery happened. Even at the best of times, I don't have the upper body strength to pick up my mom when she falls or to support her when she faints. And I just underwent abdominal surgery last month, so picking a person off the floor is RIGHT OUT according to my surgeon. We really, really don't want Mom to fall and break open her sternum. Plus, if she goes to rehab they'll put her through physical therapy to help her gain strength and better balance. Seemed like a win-win, really.) After giving it some thought, Mom agreed that our ideas had some merit. Rehab is not her favorite place to be (and really, who could blame her?) but she does want to be stronger, so that's the plan.

Mom was also moved back to the cardiac care unit of the hospital. The rooms in this area are affectionately known as "the closets" due to their dinky size, but at least Mom has the room all to herself. She has some good nurses and technicians who are looking after her. Mom usually gets along well with the nurses who come in to see her; she's pleasant and friendly, asks them about their lives and experiences, where they went to school, etc., and always thanks them for their help, so they are usually more than willing to help her with anything she needs.

The last few days Mom has had plenty of visitors, both family and friends. I think she's appreciated the visits. It's nice to see a familiar face when you're stuck in a hospital bed for most of the day. I think she's also looking forward to something other than hospital food; at this point she's eaten nearly everything on the room service menu.

Mmmm, hospital food.

Right now Mom's surgeon is thinking about discharging her on Wednesday, but that's only if she's well enough. So we'll see. From there we'll take her over to the rehab center, I'll bring her changes of clothes and other comfort items from home, and will stay with her every day.

Also also wik: Miss V's birthday is coming up. I'm going to try to coordinate everything so it comes together. Also, making funeral potatoes because c'mon, it wouldn't be V's birthday without funeral potatoes.

Today I am tired

So, the news is good:

• The evacuation order for my in-laws' neighborhood has been rescinded (yay!).
• Roxy-cat appears to be feeling better (also yay!).
• And Mom, although she's back in the ICU, has pretty good vitals and actually got in a little PT today (double yay!).

Lots of stuff going on, and as Julie regularly used to write in her journal as a kid, "Today I am tired." But many things appear to be moving in a positive direction.

Mom-cat and kitty-cat

Mom was moved out of the ICU and into the cardiac care unit today. We weren't sure she would be -- her blood pressure has been dangerously low all the time she's been in the hospital and her nurses wanted that stabilized before anyone moved her -- but this afternoon she got transferred to a different bed and wheeled off to the East Tower of the hospital. She ordered and ate dinner, got to use the spirometer a lot more than she probably appreciated, and also got all drugged up on pain pills. Wheee.

Occasionally Mom says some funny things under the influence of pain medication. She told Julie the other day that a colt and a filly were prancing around her room. She also saw a VW Beetle in the room, and was worried about it getting a flat because someone had stuck a board with nails in it right next to one of the tires. Just after saying these things, she stopped and said, "Wait. I'm having a dream, aren't I?" Yes, Mom, yes you are.

Mom has been fortunate to have some great nurses and other medical professionals in charge of her. We're also glad they haven't taken our goofy comments too seriously. (Almost every time I run errands and ask, "Anybody want anything?" Julie's go-to response is "A big bag of cocaine.")

By the way, this hospital is undergoing major renovation and the trails to different sections of the facility currently resemble nothing more than a rabbit warren. The twists and turns are enough to give anyone vertigo. I feel like I need to lay down a trail of breadcrumbs if I want to find Mom's room again.

At home, I hear from CM that the Roxy-cat is sick. She won't eat, she's been barfing and she spent most of yesterday hiding -- all classic signs of a small predator with an illness. The vet noticed she had an elevated white blood count, dehydration, no signs of having swallowed a foreign object, and no fever. So for now kitty is getting antibiotics, anti-nausea drugs and a whole lot of subcutaneous water to help fix her dehydration. If you're already praying for my mom and my in-laws, I'm sure you probably don't want to add my cat to the list, but if you feel inclined we'd certainly appreciate the blessing.

ETA (9/21 1:55 a.m.): Well, that didn't last long. Mom's blood pressure went low again and they transferred her back to the ICU. I'm confident that if anyone can get her BP stable, they can.

In Utah, hanging with the fam and the Mom

I'm running on about two hours' sleep, not counting a couple of involuntary naps today, so I'm going to keep this short.

Mom is out of surgery and in the ICU. Her surgeon feels the surgery went very well. He mentioned that the valve he wanted to replace was in even worse shape than he'd imagined, so it's a good thing she chose to get this surgery done when she did. Tonight she's breathing on her own, able to talk -- and in a whole lot of pain. Mom has a very high pain threshold, but it can be exceeded. Her nurse is working with the surgeon to do what they can to manage her pain so she can get some rest tonight.

All my sibs were in and out of the hospital today. As is typical when we get together, we all regressed to teenhood and were making many goofy (and, in the surgery waiting room, probably highly inappropriate) comments. When I left the hospital -- yes, I did leave the hospital; if I don't get some sleep I'll be no good to anyone in the morning -- Julie and my sister Michele were with Mom. Julie may spend the night in the ICU. If so, I'll go in the morning and spell her off.

Meanwhile, at the south end of Utah County, the Pole Creek Fire is still threatening to burn a number of houses in Spanish Fork Canyon, including my in-laws' place. They have been going through the house trying to take inventory of everything irreplaceable and have packed both their cars in case they need to evacuate. Please keep them in your prayers.

I drove to my mom's place tonight with the road partly illuminated by the light of the waxing quarter moon. It was a gorgeous sight. Artists, astronomers and the like tend to focus on full moons or on crescents, but any visible phase of the moon is striking and magical. And there's something comforting about looking up at the moon and realizing that many other people are doing exactly the same thing at the same time, especially when one is far from home. That sense of shared experience calms me and makes me feel hopeful, especially about the immediate future.

Good night!

Liquid diet is blah

Typing this up on an iPad, not my normal mode of composition, so I’ll likely keep this entry short.

I am super grumpy this week. It’s another all-clear-liquid, sugar-free diet week, which I’ve done before, but this week also happens to be my family reunion, which further complicates things. It’s doubly difficult to make do with chicken broth or a protein shake when everyone else is chowing down on favorite family recipes. (Doing this on the say-so of my surgeon, who intends to set a date to cut me up some time in July.) I don’t want to be Auntie Grump all week, but it’s going to be tough to maintain a cheerful attitude when I’m starving.

Wish me luck, because I’d kill for a burrito right now.

Movin' movin' movin'

NCE again I'm in Utah, hanging out on my mom's laptop (ding-dang touchpad! Bane of my existence, it is!) and doing some quality vegging after several hours helping Miss V pack up her dorm room. And tomorrow I'll do it again. And the day after that, and possibly the day after that (though I sincerely hope we'll be finished by then). We moved quite a few boxes into a storage unit today, but there are going to be a few problematic items -- primarily her mini-freezer, which is still partly full of food and will need to be defrosted before it's packed away, and a huge painted scrim which will not fit into the SUV and might have to be lashed to the roof. It's just another merry adventure in the life of Miss V.

I miss Captain Midnight. I miss Roxy. I miss sleeping in a bed. Mom's sofa is comfy enough, but I'm getting to be an old lady and couch-surfing is rough on the hips. And all this moving and sorting and packing and cleaning and tossing and donating and such is giving me the Urge to Purge. V does not like getting rid of her stuff. At. All. And I have similar pack-rat tendencies, though in my case I think much of it has to do with inertia -- boxes in the garage are out of sight and thus tend to stay in the garage. We have a whole lotta Stuff that we don't need or use, as evidenced by the fact that it's been sitting in boxes in the garage for more than a decade now. I've cleared some of it out, but as the TV product shills say, "But wait, there's more!" It is making me twitchy.

Anyway, when I get back I will give CM muchas smoochas, pay Roxy some attention, and without further ado, start unpacking garage boxes. EVERYTHING MUST GO!

Snow, Zoobies, and technological impairment

It's snowed on and off most of the day.

This shouldn't be much of a surprise. If I choose to visit Utah in February, I'm bound to see at least some snow. It is kind of what Utah's known for these days. But the first few days I was here, the only snow was on the mountaintops; everything else had melted in a glorious mid-February thaw, with shirt-sleeve temperatures during the day. And I, like a doofus, got used to it. At least I remembered to bring my overcoat.

Anyway, my rental car doesn't have 4-wheel drive, which has made things Interesting. My mother's house is on a hillside, and getting that car all the way into our cul-de-sac after a good snow dump is an exercise in futility. Fortunately, I did learn to drive in this state, so I remember the basics: how to drive in snow, how to handle a skid, how to put extra space between me and another car in icy road conditions, etc.

What is truly driving me bonkers, however, is the daily Zoobie obstacle course between the rehab center and Mom's home. Zoobies (aka BYU students) are notorious for their jaywalking ways at any time of the year, but when it's dark and icy and they randomly step out in front of cars in black clothing, not giving anyone enough time to slow down... gaaaah! RAAAHR. I tell you, if I end up mashing them into jam with my rental car, it'll be a fate too good for them.

In other news, I hear through the grapevine that Julie is already part of the way into Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. So, Project Get Sooz a Cheapie Cell Phone proceeds apace. Not sure if I should pick up a new feature phone, or just try to reset my niece's old flip phone to factory specs and go with that. (How easy is that to do? Or is that even possible? Could I be more clueless? ngh.)

Behold, Utah!

Got up at Oh Dark Hundred and flew from SeaTac to Long Beach to Salt Lake, then got on the FrontRunner and eventually picked up a rental car. I've been at my mom's place for about an hour. And I plan on being here some two weeks, so all you Puget Sound folks are getting a well-deserved fortnight's respite from Soozcat, The Chick Who Won't Shut Up!

The view from Mom's balcony. It's right purty.

Mom will be going into a rehab center for a week to 10 days, getting care and information on how to handle her long-term convalescence (a broken hip takes about a year to heal completely). "So what will you be doing then, Sooz?" I hear you cry. Well, I will be doing whatever needs to be done, running errands and cleaning house and entertaining Mom and otherwise keeping busy.

Oh, and sleeping. I intend to sleep very heavily tonight, since I think my current collective sleep strength is Brief Nap. (Mornings. I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.)

The last step

This is my lovely mom. You've probably seen her before.

And this is an X-ray of my lovely mom's hip. You may notice she has some extra hardware in there. That's because over the weekend, my mom fell downstairs and broke her hip. She's currently in the hospital recuperating from surgery to put everything back together.

I anticipate Mom needing some help during her convalescence, so I'm in the process of finding a flight out there. Will probably write next from her house. 'Til then, remember to watch out for that last step; it's a lulu!

Looking for cheap, good recipes!

ISS V has been delivered to her new college apartment and reasonably set up with food and other necessities. She doesn't know any of her roomies this year, so I hope she and they manage to get along well. In the brief time I was in Utah I also got to visit my mom, who is currently undergoing various forms of dialysis to find one that works best for her. My sisters have worked incredibly hard this summer making sure she stays as healthy as possible, and my hat is off to both of them -- home dialysis is not easy at all, and they've been doing a bang-up job of it.

In semi-related news, as you may have heard elsewhere, we're in debt. Not hugely so, but enough that I'd like to make sure it goes away as quickly as possible. To that end, I'll be bringing in more money by looking for work in earnest starting next week, but I'm also going to pore over the budget and find ways to keep some more of our outbound cash. One way to do that is to cook from scratch more often. And while I will be looking over our considerable stash of recipes and cooking based on what's on sale this week, I'm also always looking for more ways to vary our diet. So I'd like to ask you, my 3.5 readers: got any cheap, reasonably healthy, tasty recipes for us to try? Thanks in advance!

ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!

"Out there" in this case being Utah. OK, you may not think Utah is very adventurous, but when you're about to embark on an approximately 16-hour road trip driving solo on a paucity of sleep, it FEELS pretty darn adventurous, I tell you what.

So I'm off to pick up the V from school! I'll probably see you all on the flip side.

Miss V goes to college

Once upon a time there was a Little Miss V. And after a while she grew up to be a Big Miss V and was ready for some solo adventures. So she and I and about 300 pounds of V's Stuff got into the Small Silver Car of Errand-Running and went merrily driving across four states (all of which were in various states of smogginess, due to lots of wildfires across the American West *koff koff*). I had warned V about the general scariness of Utah drivers; after observing them up close in their native habitat today, she's a believer.

But eventually we got to where we were going...

...namely, the dormitories of her new university.

After going through check-in, V wasted no time unloading her gobs o' Stuff.

Dorm sweet dorm!

She brought lots of decorations with her (not pictured here) which she will be putting up to make this room more homelike. Her roomie (also not pictured here) hasn't moved in yet.

Please wish Miss V the best of luck as she embarks on her next big adventure!

Utah, we love thee

So we've been in Utah for a few days now, enjoying Dad & Mom's hospitality. Also I've been a total social reject, hanging out in the basement and attempting to write through the draft of a short story. (It's slow going. I'm not a fast creative writer.)

This afternoon we went to see How to Train Your Dragon 2, which I liked quite a lot; the first fifteen minutes or so had me wanting my own dragon SO. MUCH. I've always had a thing for flight, and the idea of performing crazy aerial maneuvers in the clouds with a highly intelligent winged mount had me seriously geeking out in the theater. There are some places in the script where you can see they originally planned to take the story in a different direction, and at first I wasn't sure I was going to like the almost Dian Fossey-like quality of Valka as a character, but overall I think they made some good story choices -- and the storyline reached a satisfying coda at the end while still leaving things open for another movie (I understand they've planned a trilogy).

Having not seen Miss V for a while (she's been staying with her mom and with my mom), we stopped by to say hi and spend some time with her. We took her out clothes shopping and to pick up some dinner (mmm, Arctic Circle shakes... mmm, fry sauce... mmmm). Then she gave us an impromptu fashion show using all the outfits she'd picked up. She seemed to be in good spirits and was her usual fun, sassy self ("Don't tell me anything about the movie! I don't want it spoiled!").

There are so many timepieces in Dad & Mom's house. Dad loves clocks of all kinds and has picked them up everywhere he's gone on earth. I'm not sure if the love of clocks and watches precedes his military service, or if it became an obsession during those years as a fighter pilot in the Air Force, when timeliness meant the difference between life and death -- but no joke, Dad has clocks everywhere. Everything from tiny, old-fashioned gold pocketwatches in glass cases to full-sized grandfather clocks that clear their throats before they chime the hour. Even the little desk where I'm writing this has a small wind-up mantel clock (not currently working) sitting on the shelf above the workspace. I think it's endearing. (Also, in this house you never have to wonder what time it is!)