Category Archives: Family

The Noggin’ Chronicles Part 7

04-18-23 / Tuesday

Next week, I go back to work. I’m not quite sure my head is ready for everything, but I need to rejoin the land of the working class. I really miss the camaraderie in my squad as well as the many puzzles I have to piece together to do what I do. I wish I could say this has been an “enjoyable” time off, such as a vacation, but it hasn’t been absolutely horrible like the recovery of a few other surgeries I have undergone.

My head is still numb in parts and there are other parts that have an indescribable pain, especially when bending over trying to pick up something from the floor. My knees prefer a boycott of the action, but I’ve been getting a few “squats” in so I suppose that’s something. As the occipital nerves that have been decompressed and “relocated” reactivate, it’s my understanding that it will be “uncomfortable,” but I don’t know yet if it will actually hurt. Who knows if that makes sense? This surgery doesn’t make sense, yet it does.

The surgeon has recommended physical therapy, but I’m doing the gentle stretches and massage on my head on my own right now. I’m hoping it’s enough to keep the scar tissue at bay as I tend to have hypertrophic scarring. He’s also prescribed a compounded topical medication to help things. It’s supposed to arrive here tomorrow. I’d do a happy dance, but that kind of movement is discouraged.

Hubs says the incisions look good – one is healing particularly well and the others are coming along. Tonight will be a “weekly” picture night so I can see for myself what’s going on. It’s one thing to feel my head ( or not in some places) and to have him tell me so, but it’s another to see it for myself. Unfortunately, the mirror in the bathroom doesn’t work well for such an inspection because I’m horribly nearsighted and can’t get close enough for detail. The pictures allow me to zoom in and critique my cranium’s job of healing. And let’s face it, sometimes we just have to see it for ourselves.

04-19-23 / Wednesday

There are some days I have to wonder about the recovery process. Tonight, I feel like crap, but I’ll get to that.

This morning I felt pretty decent and went for a “slow” walk between 1/2 – 3/4 of a mile. Hubs had our GSD with us and then a couple of strays decided to join the party, so it was definitely a slower pace than my typical walking speed.

The two interlopers on our little walk today. Fortunately my GSD is used to small dogs. And after a friendly introduction, the little black Pug seemed to fall in love with Rory.

And in all this time, I don’t know if I’ve ever introduced you to my pups. We give the dogs “titles’ on their first birthday as their personality has really come through by then. Hubs’ big baby is a German Shepherd Dog (GSD) named Rory the Conniving. (Or just plain Rory.) She’s 8 1/2 years old and has hip dysplasia, but she’s hanging in there. She’s one of the best dogs we have ever had. She’s smart as can be and she knows just how to use her big brown eyes to get Hubs to do anything she wants.

This is my favorite Pic of GSD: Rory the Conniving with me last year. She was snuggling with me during a migraine.

And while I’m at it, I may as well introduce you to the mutt who makes Rory’s life a nightmare, Gigi the Incorrigible. She’s a Heinz-57 of Boxer, Pittie and Lab to the best of our knowledge. Gigi was a birthday gift from Eldest to Youngest and somehow in the mix of things, I became her person. She came by her title honestly. Until the great windstorm this year which demolished the trampoline (which also took out the cable lines in the backyard,) Gigi would do some dog-parkour, rebound off the trampoline over the 4 foot fence and make a run for the border like her tail was on fire. We used to have to tether her when she went out, then we got an e-collar. We haven’t shocked her. The vibrate mode makes her stop and the tones make her return to the back door. However, we haven’t had to use it since the trampoline is no more. (A win for everyone but the Grands.)

I took this the day we got back home from Dallas and she was happy to see me. And yes, this is their normal sleeping arrangement on the bed when I’m resting.
Gigi likes to lay all the way down me and give me hugs however, she didn’t quite get her legs where they were supposed to be and THIS happened and was actually caught on camera.
When they aren’t vying for attention or “arguing” with each other, this is a common sight.

Ok. Back to my regularly scheduled programming… the Noggin’. It hurts. I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s in the area in the “middle” of where all the incisions were made, the Bermuda Triangle of my head. It was / is bad enough I’ve literally been laying in bed for a few hours with ice on it. Despite the ice, Hubs said it “possibly” looked a little swollen, but it’s hard to tell because my hair is staring to grow back in. Additionally, I had to take a pain pill. I hate taking them, but the Tylenol wasn’t working. So it’s been kicking in while I’m working on this, which is not only an update, but a distraction from the pain. I’m truly praying there’s not an infection or something brewing. That’s the last thing I need as I’m scheduled to go back to work in less than a week as all the paperwork is done concerning FMLA and everything else. Sigh….

Anyhoozles… I’m going to call it a night and pray my Noggin’ feels better in the morning. Meds are definitely kicking in. Sweet dreams… ❤ ~Celeste~

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I Can’t Say, “Yes!” to the Dress… Yet.

Eldest is getting married to a pretty cool guy in two months. They have been engaged for many years and their relationship has survived both living 1700+ miles apart, living together and then some additional separation while he’s an OTR (long distance) semi driver. There are many relationships that can’t handle the separation, but they make it work. He’s from a loving family and his parents are pretty great. I’m very blessed Eldest is becoming part of their clan and her fiance is becoming part of ours.

However, I have a stupid problem. Surgery issues aside, I am trying to find something to wear for the wedding which will be held at Palo Duro Canyon, the second largest canyon in the entire country. It’s one of my favorite places, truth be told. In college, I spent many hours hiking the various trails, riding horses along trails and creek beds and I also spent time with some really great friends there. There’s something special about it that I can’t exactly pinpoint, but it exists. But with the “magic” comes the Texas Panhandle weather. It can be very warm and windy where the Pavilion is located. Ahhh… the joys of Texas. If you have never visited PDC, it really is pretty after some rain. There’s also the musical, appropriately titled “Texas” held in the natural amphitheater of the canyon. People come from all over the world for the experience.

Lighthouse Trail at Palo Duro Canyon
The Mack Dick Pavilion in Palo Duro Canyon after the canyon has received plenty of rain. (Also known as the wedding venue)

Sorry. Once again I totally digressed. Squirrel!

Getting back on track – Finding the “perfect” attire is contingent on a number of factors the least of which is the aforementioned heat and wind. (I don’t want a Marilyn Monroe moment as no one needs to see the extra fluff I carry around.) I also don’t want to “match,” but compliment the wedding party colors. My daughter is wanting a Derby Day kind of feel, but right now, I rather feel like a horse after the race.

Photo: Churchill Downs in Louisville, KY

Fact: I hate dresses. I literally despise them. I’d rather rack up frequent flyer miles to Dante’s 1st level of hell. I’ve worn a few. Literally. A few. I think I can count about 12 from the time I was 15 on. I didn’t even wear a dress to my own wedding. I wore a skirt suit and as hot as it was, shorts and a t-shirt would have done nicely. I honestly don’t even know why I purchase dresses other than jeans aren’t socially acceptable to certain events.

SO…. then the question of the day: Why is it so hard to find something appropriate to wear as the “Mother of the Bride?”

Insert Long-Winded Diatribe Here: UGH…….

Eldest and I went to just two stores one day this week because that’s really all I could handle post-op. I tried on several things. There was one I loved the color of, but it was ill fitting and fated back to the racks. There was a dress that looked like I was wearing a bib. I’m well past the age of wearing a bib. There were other dresses I may have liked, but as I’m fluffy, they were ill-fitting to say the least.

In my internet travels around the world, I have seen more than TWO THOUSAND dresses & “dressy pants suits” in the past few weeks. No. That is not an exaggeration in the slightest. There are some really beautiful dresses and outfits, but none that scream “me” let alone “mother of the bride” or rather “me as a mother of the bride” to me. And those that bear the claim “mother of the bride,” Oy vey. Let me tell you…

I don’t feel any inclination in shoving my extra fluff into body-hugging sausage casing. There’s also no need to let the girls hang out nor let my belly button show. Pleats belong on Catholic School Girl uniforms, certain Kilts or Brittany Spears. I really don’t need a slit in a dress clean up to my hip. Lace. There is so much freaking lace. WHY? It’s often itchy, is easily ripped, and did I mention the “itchy factor?” Velvet / Brocade in June is just untenable. Feathers?!? Oy. Mesh / Tulle is also uncomfortable and I’m definitely not looking for anything that is see-through or that you could use to sift flour. Sequins are probably great for illuminating the runaway for a Boeing 777, (and I actually kind of like them – shocker, I know.) Leather? In June? (Did you ever see that episode of Friends with Ross and the leather pants? That would be me.)

Then there’s the cuts. (I’m not talking steak here, but now that I mention it, a good Ribeye sounds good.) I’m talking about A-line, Mermaid, Ballgown, Sheath, Column, Fit & Flare, Maxi, Mini, Empire, Revel, Wraps, Halters, Tunics, V-Waists, Body-Cons, Peasant, Prairie, Strapless, Two-Piece, Grecian … oh … let’s NOT forget the dress cut wanna-be’s: jumpsuits, your second worst enemy in a bathroom emergency. The first is shape wear often just referred to as Spanx. The less said about that, the better. But if you don’t know what this rather uncomfortable shape wear is, here’s just one of the “samples.”

Assets by Spanx

Finally… the colors and sizes. I was blessed with my mom’s eye for color and my dad’s build. The dresses/outfit’s I’ve deemed tolerable don’t even come close to the colors in Eldest’s wedding and those that do – don’t come in the size I need. (I’m trying to “downsize,” but post op it’s difficult.)

Do you know who is going to stand out like a sore thumb when this is all over?

This girl.

Me.

In short… In a few months, I’ll likely be the girl in the very, very sparkly hot pink dress wearing matching Converse tennis shoes and a feather boa whilest drinking schnapps and wondering just what happened.

The Sound of Thunder

Did you every play that “game” “Would You Rather?”

From time to time, I play it in my head and I have one question that I have never been able to answer. If I had to lose either my sight or my hearing, which would I rather lose? I know. It’s a great question. And anyone would say, “Neither.” However, that’s not an option as the question must be answered.

This question popped into my mind while listening to the long, rolling thunder making its way across the Texas plains following on the footsteps of a brilliant red sunrise. A little thunderstorm popped up and as it inched closer to town, the long lead up became a more frequent clamoring, sound and fury, signifying rain. I can feel the storm through the deep, rumbling bellows shaking the house. I can smell the moisture in the air. A single, cold raindrop kissed my hand as the crimson dawn drew her face behind heavy gray skies.

I think the better way to phrase the question is which would be easier to bear? I think we all can agree that either would suck in ways I cannot truly conceive. However, this morning I thought I would give it some extra thought (and still not come up with an answer.)

The sunrise was visually stunning – a scarlet ball coloring the world red just at the horizon. To never see a sunrise, sunset, my Hubs, my children, the grands, the pups, the world ad infinitum, to never read a book (gasp) is rather unthinkable. On the other hand, to never hear the sound of thunder, airplanes flying overhead, the birds, laughter, music (gasp) and more is equally an untenable thought.

I’ve been awake for about 24 hours now and this question is what my sleep-deprived mind is focused on. Right now, my cautious answer is I think it would be easier in the short term to lose my hearing, but long term, to never hear music again, may drive me slightly mad. After some sleep (and after the thunderstorm passes) I may have a different response.

So my question to you: Would you rather lose your sight or your hearing? It’s not an easy one, is it? ~ Celeste

Things Have Changed, but So Have I

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends. I took a long , long sabbatical from writing, which was definitely necessary. My health went FUBAR and life as a result got pushed to the side along with many other things that make my heart happy.

I have had some time to give this careful contemplation and I want to try to be a force for good, educational, and in some kind of service to the Lord. I’m not sure exactly how things will ‘morph, but forthcoming is a reboot of the things I go through, that interest me and hopefully interest you as well.

Feel free to reach out and drop me a line. I’m listening.

Birthdays, Weighty Discussions and New Life

Yesterday was my youngest’s 25th Birthday. It took me 6 months to find the exact gift I wanted for her, but I found it. The “wait” was worth it.

The perfect present for youngest…

Inside the middle magnifying lens are the words “I love you” in 100 different languages.

In other news I have basically spent the last 3.5 days in bed. It started off as a migraine flare which kindly activated the occipital neuralgia and THEN I got a very interesting surprise yesterday morning. My body woke me up for an inexplicable reason about 230am and after tossing, turning, I gave up and read for a bit. And since I was still up at the crack of dawn – Gigi the Incorrigible came and begged for needed bladder relief.

I was stumbling around like a drunk. I got the dogs out and back in, took care of my own bladder needs and went back to bed. About 639 I realized with the dizziness or vertigo, there was no way to work. The slightest movement made me feel very, very weird. Like… really…and it’s been this way most of the day. Dr. A told me to quit taking a new med, but I don’t know if that’s it or not. I’m definitely talking to Dr. MS on Monday to discuss RX and I may have to call the neuro here I’m not a fan of to get a grip on this mess.

On the plus side, the smoothie concoctions I’ve been making in the morning have dramatically helped the IBS. I feel “better” after drinking one and need to check out all the vitamins and nutrition in them that I’m throwing in my body. I’m hoping nothing is actually triggering a Neuralgia/Migraine attack.

On the down side, the smoothies (I hope) don’t have that many calories (or maybe I’m lying to myself.) But I’m at my heaviest weight EVER. I know part of this is a huge lack of activity (hello migraines and neuralgia), but the meds I’m taking literally ALL cause weight gain. I can’t lose a pound to save my life. It’s time to f#^* with my medicines and start over. Detox sounds like so much fun. Not. And because I’m a huge glutton for punishment, I’m starting a new “lifestyle” plan on Monday.

I hope the rest of your weekend is uneventful.

~Celeste~

Heatwave, Health and Puppy Breath

(Thankful for voice recorders that make this post possible.)

All of these things shouldn’t go together, but they do. I should be at work right now – a productive member of society and contributing my fair share to society. I’m actually at home in bed with a migraine and occipital neuralgia attack that is disconcerting and disabling. Therefore I’m not contributing and I’m not being productive. I am thankful; however, and here’s why:

It’s not even noon. The high today is supposed to be around 108°. I’m at home and we do have air-conditioning which I’m eternally thankful for. If I was at work I would have commercial air-conditioning that literally has me taking a jacket to work in the middle of summer. I would really hate to think of what the electric bill looks like just for our building. Heck, I am also looking forward to our upcoming home electric bill with this heatwave. (Not really, but I’m attempting to stay positive.)

Because it is so hot outside the grandchildren are stuck inside playing. However, when one has a migraine with photo/sound sensitivity, it’s a little frustrating when you’re trying to rest. I am grateful that I’m not trying to write this post from the bathroom floor where I spend most of my time when the pain strikes swiftly and suddenly. I got medicine in me just in the nick of time this morning. I am grateful, but still feel like ramming my head into a wall repeatedly.

If nothing else Rory the Conniving has the right idea.

The whole heat wave reminds me of Robin Williams’ movie Good Morning Vietnam.”

  • Lt. Steven Hauk : First of all, don’t make fun of the weather here, and don’t say the weather is the same all the time here. Because it’s not. In fact, it’s two degrees colder today than yesterday.

  • Adrian Cronauer : Two degrees colder, me without my muff.

And as an aside: I miss Robin Williams. He was one of the rare comedic geniuses and few will ever rise to his level in my estimation.

Gigi the Incorrigible also has the right idea today. (But if she lays across my legs much longer, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to walk from the Migraine Cave to the bathroom.) My right leg is mostly asleep and my left is starting to catch up. But I don’t want to move because she’s happily dreaming and…snoring.

One of my favorite things in the world is the smell of puppy breath. She’s no longer a puppy, but for one brief yawn this morning I caught a whiff of the scent. This leads me to two conclusions.

  1. I’m “brushing” her teeth often enough.
  2. She got into something she shouldn’t have.

I’m not sure which.

Anyway, I thought I’d check in and say hi before attempting another nap to soothe the pain which radiates from the right side of my head all the way down my right arm. Calling the doctor on Monday. (Yay.)

May you have an extremely wonderful day…

~Celeste~

They Say It’s Your Birthday…

“There are two great days in a person’s life – the day we are born and the day we discover why.”

~ William Barclay

I don’t feel old enough to have grand children. When I was younger it always seemed like grand-parents were these really “OLD” people and as I’m still in my 40’s I don’t exactly feel old, but I am still totally weirded out about having grand-kids.

The youngest grand-baby turned one a little over a week ago and my youngest daughter is holding the birthday party tomorrow. Because I cannot sit for long periods of time, the 352 mile drive north to see them and spend the weekend with family is impossible. I fervently wish it weren’t. I miss seeing everyone.

Yoda-hubby is; however, going up to see family today and will attend the party. At the moment I’m feeling a more than a bit lonely and a bit depressed. I attempted cleaning house to take my mind off things. No go. And listening to 90’s alternative music really isn’t helping matters. When you are down, Nirvana might not actually be the best choice, but then… I get Foo Fighters “Everlong.” I’m more than pleased, but it really is an odd auto-segue  because Dave Grohl was Nirvana’s drummer. **Mind blown**

Now, let me get to the particular reason for this post. I hate the birthday song. No. That’s not a strong enough word. I despise the birthday song with a passion that mere mortal men cannot truly comprehend. You know the one… “Happy Birthday to you…blah, blah, blah freaking blah.”  This song is old. Really old. It dates back to the late 1800’s and appeared in print in about 1912. It’s been translated into so many different languages and (unfortunately) it’s the most recognized song in the world.

When I go to restaurants, I actually feel nauseous when I hear it. It makes me angry. And fortunately my family knows better than to have a bunch of strange people sing this freaking song to me in a restaurant – ever. I would seriously walk out in the middle of it because I not only hate the song, but I hate the forced singing by people who don’t even know me.  God help me if I someday end up in a nursing home and have to listen to this mindless musical drivel on a regular basis.

I actually have adopted my own birthday song, “Birthday” by the Beatles. (It’s on their 1968 “white album.” Great stuff on that album by the way.)  “Birthday” is a thunderous symphony of sound and motion. It’s a song that makes me say, “Hell, yes! It’s my birthday.” (And this is the song I would undoubtedly crank in the nursing home to ward off others more than anything else.)

So with all this said  for her first birthday (as it were)… Stella, this one is for you.

 Beatles – “Birthday”

 

The Perfect Night’s Sleep

To Sleep
O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
      Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light,
      Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:
O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close
      In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,
Or wait the “Amen,” ere thy poppy throws
      Around my bed its lulling charities.
Then save me, or the passed day will shine
Upon my pillow, breeding many woes,—
      Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords
Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
      Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,
And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.

I have to admit I have been on a massively long creative hiatus. I have been sick with a few neurological disorders and frankly, I have been feeling sorry for myself for quite a while. However, a pity-party of one can only last so long. So here I am once again trying to start life anew.

My husband unit, who I affectionally call Yoda, received a king size mattress set from some sweet and generous people at work. We have two queen size beds in our little apartment so right now, as there is no king-sized bed frame, the majority of the living room floor is filled with a king size mattress.(The box springs are standing on end “out of the way” in the rarely used dining room.)  The actual reason for this was we wanted to try it out and see if we were going to really like it despite the fact the bed I sleep in has mattresses going on 20 years old and there is some serious divoting in the bed. Seriously, there is a huge mountain in the middle and the rest looks like a truck has driven repeatedly down a muddy alleyway in springtime.

Despite the lack of room to walk or play with the dogs, there is something supremely gratifying about comfortably laying down in the living room and watching a movie or playing the X-Box. (Yes, I’m a nerd. Get over it.) I’m actually considering getting a day bed with a trundle for the living room. (Which would also help when family comes to visit.)  We shall see how that goes.

The bed will contribute to a much better night’s sleep. However, I have no cure yet for the people who live in the apartment to our north. I want to shoot them every weekday morning about 6am when there is a crap-ton of yelling and screaming at the kids to get up, get ready for school and all that jazz. I may actually have to stumble out of bed and go over there in my jammies one of these mornings and give them a small piece of what’s left of my mind. Five days a week, I pray for uninterrupted sleep. It doesn’t happen. I think I will have to break out the ear-plugs again. (Highly recommended: Flents / 29db.) And I wonder if it would be wrong to break out older Fall Out Boy, Linkin Park.  Metallica. Led Zeppelin etc. about 2am every morning for a week or two? It would definitely have to be something with a great bass beat. (And rap music is out. I’m not a fan. Why torture myself?)

Of course, these are the same relatively nice people who brought a “rescued by the side of the road” puppy home and they have no earthly business owning a dog. Seriously. The mom actually admitted they know nothing about raising a puppy. (Buy a book?) The pup is cute, but has no discipline and no training. They also bought the pup, who is now probably 5 months old tops, a shock collar because he’s biting. I have no problem with shock collars; however, if you don’t know how to use them you are going to create a problem with the animal. The little girl who lives there was playing outside with the dog and when I let my dogs out (on leashes mind you) the dog would not leave mine alone. She threatened to get the shock collar because he wasn’t minding. I nicely told her to put the dog on a leash and work on commands – the shock collar isn’t going to work when you don’t have any idea how to properly use it. It’s so frustrating.

They also just let the dog outside by himself to go potty. No leash. No nothing. He wanders by the creek and we have all sorts of wildlife that could harm the animal including (but not limited to) coyotes, possums, raccoons, snakes and more. And without watching the animal, it would also be very easy for someone to steal their pet. It’s pretty sad. But what can I do? Not much I’m afraid.

In other news, I have found a few local radio stations (after living in the Metroplex for a few years) that I totally dig. One is a classic rock station that reminds me of my years in broadcasting. Right now, Bog Seger’s “Turn the Page” is playing.  My word. I love this song. I brings back so many memories. The downside is I’m singing along and my German Shepard is not amused. To make her howl some more is the question. The aforementioned neighbors are home so the answer: I’m singing.  Heh.

(Insert quick bathroom break here.) 

Oh heck. I just broke out Fall Out Boy, who is not my favorite band, but I really love their music. “I Don’t Care” is cranked to 100 (and the dogs are hiding in the other room.) Patrick has such a cool voice and Pete Wentz plays a pretty solid bass line. I know I shouldn’t feel this pleased, but I just looked outside and the neighbor’s dog is running amok again. After this comes Zeppelin. Yeah, it’s going to be a good day, I think.

Fall Out Boy – “I Don’t Care”

Balls!

2014, I have unanimously decided, sucks balls. I thought when I lost my dad in 2009, that was the worst year. No. This one has it beat by miles.

The year started off with Yoda moving to the Metroplex. I stayed behind and sold the house and my old car, which I basically drove the doors off of. Then I had to put a fur-baby, Angel, to sleep. I finally found a job a few months later and moved down with Yoda.

I was not a fit for said job and was also injured on the job. It was a two for one special. But to top it off, I became extremely homesick.

As summer came to a head, I lost a best friend, my sis-in-law, to cancer. It was brutal. Shortly thereafter, I quit my job.

This allowed me to come and visit my daughters quite often and I’m very thankful – especially since I have a brand new grandson. But things at their apartment were going fubar because of a newborn and my BIG sheepdoodle, Maverick the Amazing. As a result, he came down to live with us mid-October. By the end of the month, he was sick.

Maverick visited the vets a couple of different times, but it wasn’t until Monday the vet in the Metro said he needed an ultrasound and more tests because he thought he felt a mass. Gads. Already $1700 down and more to come. So I did the logical thing and brought him “home” to my vet tech daughter that night.

Yes, he needed more tests which were done Tuesday. Doc Chase, one of my favorite vets of all time, advised he needed emergency surgery as there was indeed a mass.

A few hours later, I found there was a large mass on his spleen, he had been bleeding internally and there were other masses. He was not going to recover. I had to make the decision to put him down.

Worst. Day. Ever.

I miss him more than mere words could ever say. He was amazing. Simply the best dog I have ever had.

As 2014 starts drawing to an end, I’m most thankful it’s ending. I can’t really take much more of it and 2015 surely must be better. Surely.

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New York State of Mind

“Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood.  Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood.  But I’m taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River Line. I’m in a New York state of mind.”

~Billy Joel~

ESB NYC

They say it’s a city of lights, a city that doesn’t sleep. It’s true what they say. There is an energy that fills the air and warms my spirit. Of the many places I have been in my life, none affects me moreso than my favorite place on Earth, New York City.

Eldest is visiting her boyfriend up in the Big Apple this weekend. It’s the first vacation she’s taken on her own and it’s over 1,700 miles from “home.” But she loves the place as much as I do, there’s family there and if all else fails, I will hunt down anyone that hurts my baby and they will meet the Hudson face to face.  Can you tell I worry?

I’m trying to get my stuff together for a weekend in my hometown about 6 hours away. Yoda and I have had a really sick dog so this should make the trip that much more exciting. 2 people. 2 dogs. 1 Vehicle. Joy. But I get to see family and the new grandbaby so that’s okay, I think.

Enough for now… just thought I would ramble for a little bit.

Sweetest of dreams…