Watch Your Back

It has not been a quiet week, and of course the blog suffers. I lost last weekend to pain, pain and then more pain. Not ever having had back issues it was an eye opener. Sunday was the worst: endlessly searching for a position of comfort. It was, at times, an interesting dance as I could not always put weight on my left leg.

Sciatic nerve is my armchair diagnosis.

Monday was the start of methylprednisone, a nice little jump start to reduction of inflammation and pain. It was a near fix. The pred ended yesterday and now it is a wait and see. I did do PT at the nursing home and have considered a chiropractor. I have never been to a bone crusher and am a little ambivalent to start. I am afraid he will tell me all the crooked things I possess and how doomed I am. "Sign up girl we may have you adjusted in a few years."

I have been faithful with the heat and ice, stretching, but about 4 am seems to be the bewitching hours and I traipse to the recliner with the heating pad, blue ice (I have upgraded from the spinach bag after it starting leaking) and a belly full of pain meds. By sun up I am for the most part in the land of the living.




Let's talk pain meds. I was given Tramadol: take 1 tablet three time a day as needed for pain. Bonk - I was taking x2 every 4-6 hours and not getting a bucket of relief. So I called the drug store yesterday to get a refill. Bonnie told me she couldn't refill until Monday. Oh Oh, over medicated!!! And for the over medication my pain was still an issue, just not a hell roaring issue.

Good thing it didn't kill me. I would have really gotten behind on the blog.

Health Care Reform

The day started out rainy and early for a gal who went out with the girls last night, but never mind, that could be another bloggable event. It was the morning of a Health Care Forum hosted at Valley View Manor, the assisted living apartments in conjunction with our skilled nursing home. Senator Kent Conrad was the on the panel along with Bonnie Thom, RPharm - owner of Velva Drug; Dr. Brian Vibeto an orthodontist in Minot and small business operator with ties to Velva and Mike Hammer LPN, at Souris Valley Care Center. In the following photo Jim Dropper,our regional director of the Evangelical Lutheran Good Samaritan Society, Sioux Falls, SD, is introducing the panel. Forums are being held around North Dakota by Senators Conrad and Byron Dorgan, both Democrats. They are proving to be informational on both sides of the fence.



Now let me inform you how uniformed I am when it comes to health care reform. I do listen to radio, TV, read (skim??!) newspapers, magazines and the Internet, so I have some idea of what is going on but to be in the know on this huge issue is further down on my checklist, not because I don't care but my cranium is like a soup bowl, it can only hold so much at one time. Today I had my curiosity piqued. I feel I need to find a bigger soup bowl.

At precisely 9:00 am Senator Conrad arrived with his support people in tow. Also on board were the county Sheriff, a deputy and U.S. Marshall. Being on the hosting committee and photography I was told to take pictures of him interacting with constituents and good old handshaking. The Nikon didn't let me down.






The crowd was peaceful though around the country there have been "thugs" who want their issues known, and not necessarily in a quiet manner. We had some sign toters who could have gotten boisterous but didn't.








And then the questions came, good questions that I too had thought needed to be asked. So what about...


... money, remember the ginormous deficit, wouldn't this pretty much max out our card?

...who will police mandatory insurance? (mandatory insurance?? yeah right)

...what about the ER frequent fliers after narcs, drama, and attention? Ten years on the ambulance, I saw a first hand a subculture that really exists and in their unique way they are chronically sick.

...drugs, the cost of the newest and the best are always the most expensive. If I were in dire straights, grabbing at anything to make me well, sure I'd want the best and the brightest on the shelf.

...the elderly, nursing home care, home health?

...diagnostic test and equipment: we want them, the docs rely on them, ka-ching, ka-ching ka-ching!!

...the small business owner who is barely making it and then needs to pay for a portion of his employees insurance?

There was a frail 35 year old women who has had Lupus for nearly 20 years. She read a moving note of gratitude to Senator Conrad, he and Senator Dorgan, they were her heroes. They were working to make things happen. With hope she will live long enough to know first hand of the changes.

Well, I've only hit on the minute crumb of this dilemma. I have figured out though we cannot not do anything, something needs to happen. I will do my part, but first I need to find a bigger soup bowl.

The Season Has Arrived

The first cucumbers of the 2009 are in the jar and the season has begun, one of my favorite times of the year. And this isn't a new development either.

When I was growing up my Uncle Milo had a "truck farm" on the Buffalo River near Glyndon, Minnesota. This fertile land produced muskmelons, tomatoes, beets, cucumbers, potatoes - all sold to area grocers for fresh produce. He always seemed to have a bountiful crop, carefully tended to by migrant workers.

Before the last of his crop was hauled to town, my mother and aunt Vi would start the canning operation, occasionally assisted by my aunt Mae or neighbor Darlene. I don't ever recall being assign any duties, other than probably "scram." These were all day affairs with Vi coming to town hunching honest to goodness bushel baskets heaped with produce.

First would be the beet pickles, then the cucumbers (dills, million dollar, oil of cinnamon and turmeric pickles, oh I almost forgot the relish!!) My father would remind mom to make those dills hot, with a few red peppers tossed in for him. Then they made stewed tomatoes, froze melon balls and canned peaches. These gals strung out this work through August, and sometimes I remember they were horribly hot days, but there was work to be done! The day usually ended with a remake of the day's labors and buttered bread for supper.

Fast forward to the farm bride and her new garden. I too learned the fine of art of "putting up the fruits of my labor." For thirty five years I have canned and created with a true love of the season propelling me on. Even now, as a return to the city girl, I still have a garden and I still can, only not in such magnitude as before.

Over the years I have carried out the same recipes as my mother, with some added from my mother-in-law, Lillian. She (Lillian) and I were connoisseurs of frozen corn, which to this day is the only way I can tolerate corn. Her sister Eveline and husband Ross would grow unbelievable huge sweet corn which we cut off the cob, cooked with butter and salt and then freeze in every container available. We could never grow corn where we lived because of the "coon" (Karlie called me a racist once for mentioning the coons). We lived along the river and a veritable army of raccoons would march on over to annihilate even the smallest of patches, so we always relied on Ross and Eveline's fabulous corn.

So as the season continues I savor the smells of vinegar and dill, gleaming jars in my big canner, sweet cooked apples, beets, tomatoes bubbling on the stove - it just doesn't get any better!

Camp Metigoshe

For the last thirty years (not every year of course!) I have had kids going to Camp Metigoshe, a Lutheran Bible camp at Pelican Lake near the Canadian border. This camp was started by a visionary pastor named Mark Ronning in 1961. Its first digs were actually located on Lake Metigoshe, the closest thing I have seen in western or central North Dakota that resembles a Minnesota lake, i.e. trees and lake cottages all around the shoreline.

By the late seventies a plot of land on nearby Pelican Lake was purchased and became the campsite. The original area on Lake Metigoshe became the Christian Center. The Pelican Lake site is now known as "Camp Metigoshe." The combined are called Metigoshe Ministries and are supported by private donations and ELCA churches from the surrounding area.

It is a place like none other. In the course of my six kids I have seen the wonderment of Christ, through the magical medium of dedicated, energetic counsellors, work his way into stubborn little hearts with song, friendship, scripture, acceptance, prayer and just plain fun. This year was no exception.








Five days later we go for the retrieval, and as with the other kids, the first thing out of their mouth is, "I'm comin' back next year!" It never ceases to amaze me how bubbly yet tearful all these kids can be. One would think they had all been ship wrecked on some island for the last twelve years and this was the final final good bye.













I am quite sure this is the first year I have seen the leg and arm work as part of the au revoir. Those legs on the right belong to our little LuLu.





Until next year, the end!

The Grandkids

Mercedes Anna at 4 months - Billy and Dani's


Beau Davis at 6 months and 1 week - Nicole and Robert's


Lainey Grace at almost 2 1/2 years - Nicole and Robert's


Collin Lee at 4 3/4 years - Erik and Nicki's

I have been so negligent on this blog. But in my defense: I can never seem to find ten minutes of time to finish something so I will ease back into things. Mercedes turned four months on August 1; she was here for the day as Dani had her gallbladder removed and can't lift. As I took her pictures (Ron took this one of Mercedes but I took a whole bunch more!) I thought I would show all of the grandkids on my return to the blog.

July 20, 1969

One small step... Forty years ago today I was at Pelican Lake in Minnesota staying with Les Ann Ike. Our social life was exciting and forever moving forward, as one's should be at the age of 15. But her mother, Sis, as she was known to all, called us in from the water to insist we watch this momentous event. We like good little soldiers marched in and plunk ourselves in front of the TV.

History was being made. Thanks Sis!

The Girls

Old friends, old times, new times and most certainly a good time. Every so often my old potluck group gets together at various locals for reminiscing and updating on our lives, such as they are. This time I was able to make it to Bismarck for a weekend. They convened on Friday but I couldn't get there until Saturday morning. It wasn't too late to get in on the fun.

Kathy Wilson Mayer so graciously opened up her home and entertained us with the utmost expertise. Thank you from all of us. It made for more pleasure since she just happened to have a pool.








Some of these girls go back with me to the third grade at Clara Barton; others from seventh grade when the elementary schools united for junior high and later on to Fargo South High. I thought it was interesting how I still see the same girls we were just older and wiser. I also marvel how unique we all are. None of us has escaped the battle fields we call life, but yet we all have been resilient and marched on.

Deann and Nancy a.k.a. Pants, are my oldest friends in the group.




This potluck group was started when we were freshmen, with our first event at Mary McNamee's house on a beautiful autumn evening in 1968. We had a meal (why do I remember red Jello with marshmallows?), and then went to the Canteen dance at the Y, our first inclusion - as we were now in high school!

As memory serves me, the first night after the invites were sent, there were 12 in the original group: Mac, Ike, Pants, Reed, Rob, Dav, Colleen, Maureen (Co & Mo) Dee, O'Day, Wils, and me - Snit, (using our familiar monikers). Fargo had been having potluck groups for decades prior to this union, it wasn't something we had invented, and it really isn't unique to Fargo, but if your from there you know the term. I wonder if the concept still lives on or did it fizzle out from attrition?



Nancy, Mary and Randi had to get back to the lake by Saturday night. This is the reduced version.



On Saturday night we took a side trip to the capitol. Nancy's grandpa William Kurke of Fargo and Joseph DeRemer were the onsite architects for the contruction of this "skyscraper on the prairie." Nancy had gone earlier in the day to a cathedral he had designed. Bismarck now has dubbed the area, the Catherdral District. Nancy lives in LA and doesn't get to ND often, let alone Bismarck.



What a great bunch of old friends. Not to sound corny, but thanks for the memories.

Going Green, 1943 Style

On my last Fargo expedition I brought home the "Garden Master."





For every bit of fifty years I remember this piece of equipment stashed in the garage, a curiosity to no one until now. When I unloaded it out of the van Ron looked at me like I was nuts.

"What are you going to do with that?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"Cultivate, what else." I retorted smoothly.

"That's why I bought you the little tiller."

"This is eco friendly. Our carbon foot print just got a little smaller and besides we won't have to spend any money on gas, so there." At this point he knew the conversation was over.

It wasn't until about a week or two later that I actually got some field time with my little gem, and am I ever pleased! I can whistle through my garden in no time. Yes sirree, I am a pretty happy farmer these days.



As I am sitting on the grass along side the garden(surely wiping my sweaty brow after extensive field work!) I spotted a tag hanging on the wheel. Ever so carefully I wiped away the fifty plus years of grime and this is what I read:





The Garden Master no doubt was one of the assorted goods my mother brought into her second marriage. Don, the first Mr. Evie, died in 1949 and she married my Dad in 1953. As he would so humorously tell, "When I married Evie she came complete with a house and a car. The only thing I had to do was take over the payments on the TV."

The TV, the house, the car, mom and dad - they are all gone now, but the Garden Master lives on.

**Double-click on the photos to read the tags.

Just Grandma and Me

Last night I spend the night at Grandma Lizzie's, just the two of us. Grandpa was in Portal, Carsten went to a wedding dance, Lacy was at her mom's, and Karlie well, she was "somewhere," as grandma refers to it.

My grandma had played in her nursing home's golf tournament. (It was a fundraising event, not taking a bus load of resident to play golf!) It was so unbelievably windy her team gave up after 10 holes, as many did. I though was that was grand - she wasn't worn out when I arrived.

We hang out so good together. She says it is because I am such a sweetie pie and naturally even tempered.

It wasn't long before Grandma took out the trusty Nikon and snapped away. I can't wait until I am older and then for each picture I can say, "Let me see, let me see." It goes with the digital age and being a kid.






I am getting so close to laughing out loud. Maybe Grandma could speed things along if she had better jokes, or goofier faces (she's close though). Although she is rather a hoot when she does that gutteral cooing thing. Who's idea was it anyway for us to sputter as our first formal communication?

Buddy and Kidee sure like it when I come a calling. Buddy sits by me on the floor, only because grandma won't let him lie on the mat, which he really wants to do. Kidee likes the Mozart music that plays out of my play mat. (Why does Grandma keep ooohing over my toys?? and then says something like: "Gees, this is cool.") He also attempts to bat at some of my hanging toys but soon saunters off to do what he does best - sleep. For a 10 month old kitten, I am sure glad no one named him Zip.



Well, until next time. Have a good day, Merecedes.

P.S. On Wednesday I will be 3 months old. Hopefully before too long I will weigh a whole 10 pounds.