Archive for July, 2007

The End

***SPOILER (maybe a little)***

Well, we finished off book 7 Saturday night. It was satisfying enough, I suppose, but I’m a little disappointed that it’s over. And I still don’t get the “Neither can live while the other survives.” Shouldn’t it be “Neither can die while the other survives”?

And I think she made it a little too obvious where Snape’s allegiances lay. It annoyed me that neither Hermoine, Ron, nor Harry could puzzle that out before the end. But Rowling still remains my hero for her mad plotting powers, not to mention brilliant characterization. I’ll definitely read her next creation.

***End Spoiler Warning***

Thank you for all the low-fat suggestions. I’m looking forward to making a break from my raw veggie and popsicle diet!


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Two Weeks

I have demolished my previous record for blog inactivity, and have failed to document ANYTHING in writing (on paper or internet) for two whole weeks, and a day. It’s not a big loss. I really can’t remember much of anything happening, actually. My head is still foggy (maybe from the anesthesia, which everyone tells me can remain in your system for months); I’m sleepy all the time; and I have no idea how to cook without fat. Seriously. I made tacos last night, and they sucked. I now suck at tacos. Tacos, people! Who can’t make a decent taco??? Who?! So this is my life without the ability to cook or write. It’s somewhat lacking, but not too terrible. I’m optimistic that it will improve. Especially once I get my hands on some good low-fat cookbooks to study.

(I guess I never blogged the fact that my gall bladder has to come out at some point, and in the meantime, fat hurts a lot. Great diet plan, though!)

In other news, the kids and I have spent the daylight hours of this week at the park, where the Family Resource Center is running a day camp. It’s been great fun for me to meet other women from town and chat and help out a little bit. And the kids played with lots of older kids and enjoyed themselves immensely.

Oh, and ever since we returned from Ojai, Jonah has been playing with his imaginary brother, Pak. Last night, he asked me if I would get him a baby brother– a real one. I told him to ask God about that, because it wasn’t up to me. (Which really means, “Kid, I’m doing everything I can to prevent that from happening, so if you want it, you’ll need a miracle.”) And, seeing as how that was the way that Jason came into existence (his ten-year-old, adopted sister praying that her supposedly infertile parents would have a baby), we’re probably in big trouble. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get more sisters.

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Jonah happens to adore a certain little girl named Emma, who happens to be the daughter of my best friend Lisa. Jonah loves Emma even when Emma is 600 miles away, when he can only remember how pretty Emma is and how smart Emma is and wish Emma would marry him one day. When Emma is in his general proximity, Jonah feels compelled to give her his toys and pester her with attention. 

This week, Jonah is happy. Jonah is spending his afternoons and evenings at Emma’s house. Jonah does not want to leave Emma’s house at bedtime. But he must. So when Jonah comes home to sleep in Grammie’s house, he dreams of Emma.

This Morning:

I had a dream. Emma and I went to the ocean. We had a fishing pole to fish with. Then I fell into the ocean! So Emma threw the fishing thing out into the water, and she fished for me. And she caught me for a fish! So I held on, and Emma pulled and pulled, and a whale tried to get me, but Emma pulled and pulled, and she pulled me in! And I said, “Thank you.”

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I’m much, much better now. And thank you for all the prayer and cyber hugs and child-sitting and well-wishing. I’m in Ojai, as planned (sort of), until my two weeks of doing next-to-nothing are up and I can safely drive us back up to Westwood. 

When Jenn and I were in the New America Singers (who currently happen to be touring all over Asia without me), we all sang the word “watermelon” if we didn’t know the words to the song we were singing at that moment (which happened often, as our director wasn’t and isn’t a big fan of rehearsal time, and sometimes randomly inserts new songs into a concert which we might or might not have heard before). So when Jenn commented, “Are you feeling better yet? Watermelon!” My first thought was that she didn’t know what to say. But then I read on and learned that it has magical “go” powers. I guess we’ll have some watermelon detox this weekend.

And that brings me to my next point (not that these are really going somewhere):

Dear Vicadin, Dilaudid, and Morphine Addicts,

Narcotics? Really? What possible enjoyment can you find in narcotics? Is it the nausea? The inability to form coherent sentences? Do you hate to pee? Come on, Vicadin, Dilaudid, and Morphine Addicts! There is something in your life that is more fun than passing your days in a semi-comatose state.

And that is all.

Except that last night, if I had been able to sit up for hours on end, I could have written a novel plan, an article, and a blog post, and they would have been so lovely, because my brain was on one of those kicks where everything is easy to write and it’s right the first try, and I missed it, and I knew I was missing it. But I did get a few notes to remember some of the ideas. It’ll just be way harder to hammer them out now.  

I hope it wasn’t the drugs talking.

I’m making the head nurse and the doctors a wall quilt, featuring a flying appendix applique. 

That was probably drugs. But I’m still doing it.

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Happy 4th of July! I celebrated by having an emergency appendectomy. And then lots of complications from various narcotics.

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Best friends.


“Let’s do a really crazy one, Sissy!”


Dunk tank, or swimmin’ hole.


Pastor Jason dishing it out. (center)


Kerr! Does anyone else see a big heart in the tree trunk behind us? I think it has eyes.


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