Julz – Page 24 – Julzie Style

December 13, 2022

A mother’s joy…

The dinner I made when Noah and Aja came over. Porchetta Pork Tenderloin, Fondant Potatoes, Acorn Squash Puree with Candied Bacon & Pecans. A monochromatic plating but very seasonal.

Part of my heart is completely shattered after losing my sweet boy Otto last Friday, but another part is so full of joy and happiness. Thank goodness the two are balancing each other out to keep me centered.

At this point in time, as a mother, I am delighted that both of my sons, Noah and Sam, are moving on with new chapters of their lives. Noah met a wonderful young woman named Aja, who is beautiful inside and out. We had them over for dinner the other night, and I don’t think I ever saw Noah happier.

It was a fun evening spent talking while sipping red wine, eating, making each other laugh, and getting to know each other better. We are learning to know Noah as an adult, and he is learning to know us as adults, not just his parents.

When they left, I had such a happy heart. I told Marty that our evening together was better than any gift I could’ve received. Noah and Aja seem like a great match, and we like her very much! 🙂

The two of them are headed by train to NYC on Sunday, Noah’s birthday, to see the tree at Rockefeller Center and to experience NYC during the hustle and bustle of Christmas time. They are going to see the Rockettes and are staying right in the heart of Times Square.

Even when we booked this trip with Noah, I was so excited for him! We talked about their trip when they were here, and I told them I was as thrilled and psyched as if I were going!

There is no place like NYC at Christmas time with all the shop windows displays and excitement in the air. Noah having Aja to experience with makes me so happy. I am sure they will have a fun and memorable time.

At the same time, Sam is moving to Essex Junction, VT, to work in the ER at UVM Medical Center. He has a beautiful place to live and is close to many outdoor activities, bars, restaurants, and other new places. There will also be more people and things to do.

I am going to his new place with him on Saturday morning to help him move the rest of his stuff into his townhouse. We have to clean and organize. He has to pick up a few things at a couple of stores then we get to the fun part, the decor!

He and I have so much fun together whenever we do projects and die of laughter. I am looking forward to spending some time, just the two of us, before he leaves for good.

The thought of his new challenging job and a fantastic place for a young guy to live makes me smile. I am genuinely as excited for him as if I were moving up there. This job is the next step in his career, and he will learn and see so much, things he would never experience at his current position, although he will miss his coworkers a lot.

Growing up and even in adulthood, I never once heard my mother tell me, “I am happy or excited for you.” I don’t think she was ever truly happy for anyone. She would find negative things to say when something wonderful happened to her friends or coworkers.

The best example I can give is our wedding day. My mother spent the entire wedding day hysterically crying. Maybe she couldn’t bear to have me in the spotlight. She was, however, highly successful in drawing the attention of all of the guests at the wedding. Meryll Streep has nothing on Eileen’s acting skills, even in Oscar award-winning films.

Instead of being happy that I married the love of my life and starting a new life with him in Vermont, she only thought about herself. When everyone asked Marty why his mother-in-law was crying, he told everyone she was upset because she was losing her cleaning lady. This was a hysterical answer, but unfortunately, it was the truth.

We never said “I love you” in our house when I was growing up. When we started saying it in our little family, my mother and father followed suit. I remember wondering why it took them so long to feel comfortable saying it or even thinking of it.

As the kids were growing up, my mother said, “I love you,” frequently to my family and me. After her stroke, she said it all the time. Those words, I love you, were just words. Words with no feeling attached to them or what they meant. (This was not because of the stroke.)

This I know because she handed out “I love you” to people like candy on Halloween. People she didn’t like and complained about behind their backs. It was a manipulative tool.

When the “I love yous” didn’t get her what she wanted or demanded, she could whip up tears quicker than Ralphie in” A Christmas Story” when he broke his glasses.

Sadly, my mother never felt joy in her heart for me, and she couldn’t stop thinking about herself. I’ve learned through meditation that I played a crucial role in her soul’s life lesson in this lifetime. My job was to help her advance in her earth school lessons.

In a mediation journey, a female Spirit Guide explained that I agreed to take that role as a main character before I was born. We all know how that lesson ended.

Thinking about it this way helps me not to take things as personally. It was a pack made before I came here, like a business contract. Thinking about it this way also allows me to take one step closer to forgiving her, but it’s still hard, and I have a long way to go.

Becoming a mother was the best thing I ever did. Was it easy? No. Was it extremely hard at times? Yes. Did I lose myself for a while? Definitely. While parenting our children with Marty, I knew what not to do from my childhood.

I quickly realized those bad memories from my childhood didn’t matter. I was not Eileen; I was me. It wasn’t in my nature to be capable of speaking so meanly to my boys. I would never dream of degrading or emotionally abusing them or using preplanned guilt and manipulation tactics.

I never hit or beat them the way I was or called them names. My name growing up was, “You stupid son of a bitch.” That is 100% true. Nice, right?

Why on earth would a mother do those things? Instead, we raised our boys with rules, manners, love, laughter, respect, and fairness. We were far from perfect, but we did the best job we could do.

I love being their mom and look forward to stepping back and watching them live their lives as they wish.

We are officially empty nesters, and my heart is full of joy. It’s time for the next chapter in Marty and my lives too. ❤️

December 9, 2022

Goodbye my sweet boy…

Otto is so happy laying in the cool grass with his favorite ball. What a big smile he had.

Our sweet boy Otto passed away peacefully with us right there at the vet’s office today.

Three weeks he began losing weight and muscle. Everyday he got worse, very quickly.

Today, he didn’t want to eat and couldn’t walk. Last night was the first night he didn’t sleep with us, he didn’t even try to get up.

This morning, we knew it was time. He was 9 years old and we are all heartbroken. 💔

December 8, 2022December 8, 2022

This is us…

Klaus and Otto share the couch in our back room. The two of them never sat or laid down together until recently.

***This is the perfect title for this blog post. Please click on the link to read my friend Jon Katz’s Bedlam Farm Journal blog post before reading ahead. I am the friend in the post.

Jon’s blog post says everything I can’t right now. Jon is a dog expert, all you have to do is go to your local library, and you’ll find dozens of books he has written.

Jon is a famous writer, journalist, photographer, and former CBS morning news producer. Hell, HBO even made a movie about him with Jeff Bridges playing Jon.

His blog is a joy to read and to follow what’s happening on Bedlam Farm. You will love his wife, farm animals, and dogs. I’ve been reading his blog everyday for 5 years and look forward to his posts.

Today, I am super sad. I’ve been alone and have felt down all day. Marty and Sam are still up in the Burlington area. I’ve had time to digest what’s making me sad; Sam and Otto will leave for good shortly.

I felt sad when both of my sons moved out of Arlington for school and work. Luckily for me, Noah moved back from Connecticut, and his place is only a mile from here, and he often visits, usually to have dinner with us. Nothing makes me happier than cooking for people I love.

The thing is, I’ve never had an animal die before. After nine years of caring, nurturing, and always having him by my side, I am heartbroken. We’ve decided to cancel the vet visit we had scheduled for him.

Otto is traumatized by thunderstorms, fireworks, and wind. He freaks out when the power goes out and going to the vet. We have to give him drugs for most of these things since he is scared to death.

We respect that he is frightened of things and try to comfort him during storms and fireworks, but going to the vet is tough on him; that’s why we decided not to put him through that and a bunch of testing.

Whenever I look down, my boy is right there.

We are helping and caring for Otto since he can no longer hop on the bed or couch. We’ve made him comfy beds upstairs and downstairs. The stairs are getting harder, but he can still go up and down. He is still eating, drinking, and having no problem going outside to go potty.

Our boys never used the dog beds we got for them, until now. We put them together and covered it in his favorite blanket. Klaus likes it too. He’s been nicer to Otto in the last couple of weeks and not a dick.

I went back to making his food like when he was a puppy. He has lost a lot of weight and muscle. It happened quickly; I wasn’t ready for it since he seemed and looked healthy all summer. His coat was so shiny.

I know I’ll get to see Sam after he leaves since it’s only about 2 1/2 hours to Burlington. I won’t get to see my boy Otto again when he goes; this is terrible timing, with both things happening simultaneously. Death doesn’t give a shit about poor timing.

Thinking about the timing of death, is there ever a good time for a pet or someone you love to die? This is much harder than I thought it would be. I am a strong person and have been through a lot with human beings and will make it through this too.

Thanks for reading. Writing about what’s going on, both good and bad, helps me put things into perspective. My biggest fear is being the person who finds him dead and no one else is home.

Talking about it with my friend Maria the other night helped. She said I could call her if something like that happens and I am alone, she would be right over. I find comfort in that.

Goodnight everyone. I’ll keep you posted.

December 7, 2022December 7, 2022

Pizza burgers…

Everyone has their ideas when it comes to comfort food. I have several, but one of them I had a big craving for today.

When I was little growing up in New Jersey, I used to go to many diners with my mother, Aunt Claire, and Nana.

Two diners, in particular, stand out in my memory, The Linden House Diner and the Bayway Diner. We often went to lunch there when running errands with Nana or taking her to a doctor’s appointment.

I loved going to the diner! I never even had to open a menu because I knew what I wanted. It was on the children’s menu and was also on the regular menu in the deluxe form.

99% of the time, I ordered a pizza burger, and fries. When I got older, I ordered the pizza burger deluxe, which also came with coleslaw, a pickle, and fries.

We always sat in a booth with me next to the window. I kept myself entertained after we ordered our food by making faces in the mirror on the side of the jukebox at the table.

I would ask for a quarter to play a song, but that didn’t happen. When the waitress brought us our drinks, I would look at the placemat, the same one I’d seen a hundred times, but every time we went, I was able to read more about the businesses sponsoring the placemats.

My hair was always set in rollers for bolognie curls, which I hated. I didn’t let it stop me from playing outside, though. I wonder where I was going, all dressed up.

I would blow bubbles in my chocolate milk as I read the placemat. I loved to see how high I could get them to go without bubbling over the side of the glass.

I never got to that point because it was always when my mother would scold me, “stop playing with your food!” “It’s a drink,” I would explain to her. That’s when she would grab my hand under the table and crush it until the bones ground together.

My grandmother was blind and listened to conversations around our table while my mother chain-smoked until our food came.

Nana knew what was on her plate and where like telling time on a clock. The fish is at twelve o’clock, the potato is at three, and the vegetable is at seven. I liked being the one to tell her about her lunch “time.”

At 5 years old, on Halloween with Mema. She was my favorite person ever. I loved spending time with her. I posted these because they are the age I was in this piece. I love these old photos because I can tell by the smile on my face how happy I was on my favorite day of the year. It still is!

When my pizza burger was put in front of me, I smelled it first. It smelled so good! Then, I would pick it up and start eating it around the edges. Sam smells his food like I do. We smell everything, come to think of it, especially clothing straight out of the dryer. The bleach smell is our favorite!

I guess turning my burger around in a circle after every bite wasn’t considered playing with my food. I ate it like this to get every bit of sauce and melted mozzarella cheese oozing out the sides. Clever for a 5 or 6-year-old!

Next, I would start working on one of my favorite things in the world, the fries. I still love fries today and would always choose them over any other starch. I love all kinds, especially bowling alley fries, which are greasy, golden brown, crinkle-cut sticks of deliciousness. Crispy outside and like mashed potatoes on the inside.

I am usually a giving and generous person until it comes to my fries. Whenever someone doesn’t order their own and thinks they can pick some off my plate, they are wrong; very wrong. I share my fries with no one, ask Marty.

Back at the diner, when I dipped my fries in the marinara sauce that was on the plate, I would run them through, pretending it was machinery driving through mud or something. I stopped quickly whenever my mother looked over at me because this was considered playing with my food. One hand crushing was all I could take. Lol.

Today, I had some leftover “sauce” and made myself a pizza burger before belly dancing. It came out perfectly, and so did the fries. I didn’t have coleslaw or good pickles, so it wasn’t a deluxe version.

I ate alone since Marty and Sam were on their way to Burlington, VT, to start to move Sam into his new home. During this trip, they are working on some repairs that need to be done and moving out the old furniture and in with Sam’s brand new stuff he bought. They won’t be back until tomorrow night.

This afternoon, I automatically started eating my pizza burger in a circle like when I was little. One night when visiting my biological mother, we ate in a diner. I ordered a pizza burger on a plate with coleslaw.

The diner didn’t have a gluten-free bun, and their fries were fried in the same fryer where wheat items are also cooked, contaminating the oil, so I only could have coleslaw.

To my surprise, my mother also ordered a pizza burger deluxe. She said it was funny that we both ordered the same thing and loved them! This kind of stuff was and still is fascinating to me.

This also happened the first time we met in person several years ago. We went to an Irish pub to have a drink before dinner. We walked into the pub and realized that we both preferred to sit at the corner of the bar. That amazed me because I’ve never experienced this kind of stuff before.

I immediately went to the restroom, and she ordered a drink while I was gone. When I came out, the bartender asked me what I wanted, and I told him Captain Morgan and Gingerale. That was the same drink that she had ordered. Holy shit!

Another thing I want to mention about pizza burgers is while they are popular in Jersey and downstate NY diners, no one up here has ever heard of them.

Years ago, we ate at a diner in the Pittsfield, MA, area. I asked if they could make me a pizza burger. It was as if I was speaking Swahili or something. They didn’t know what I was asking. Even after I explained it, they still didn’t know how to do it.

My last noteworthy comment about pizza burgers is how they are in the lyrics of a Rolling Stones song. It goes like this, “I’ll never be your pizza burger.” I was shocked when I learned the actual words were a beast of burden! What does that even mean? I know pizza burger doesn’t make sense either, but a beast of burden?

Back in the day, you had to guess the song lyrics since there was no way to look them up. You would figure out some lyrics, and your friends would figure out other ones. We weren’t doing it to be funny; we really didn’t know what the fuck they were singing.

I knew Marty was a keeper when the song “Beast of Burden” came on the radio, and we both sang the pizza burger version. I thought it was only me who heard pizza burger, but apparently not. 😂

Today, my pizza burger and fries brought me back to my Elizabeth, NJ, days when I was a kid. I wish I had a glass of chocolate milk and a straw when I ate it. Of course, I would have still blown bubbles in it!

By the way, I let my boys blow bubbles in their chocolate milk when they were little; they never made a mess, and the world didn’t end. So there!

***I’ve been searching for a box of old photos since I started my blog almost two years ago next month. I found them this week and am excited to be able to post more old photos in future posts.

December 3, 2022December 3, 2022

Empty nest…

Our small tree in a corner for the first time since we bought our home in 2004. We love it there; it’s out of the way and not blocking the precious light that comes in during this dark time of the year.

I haven’t written about my youngest son Sam, who works as a nurse in the ER in Bennington and accepted a job up in Burlington, VT, at UVM Medical Center’s level 1 trauma ER.

Level 1 means the highest level of care for severe trauma patients, which is right up his alley. It’s the next step in his career, and we are excited for him.

Over the next couple of weeks, he will be packing, moving, and unpacking, getting everything set for his start date of 12/27. Long before Sam got his new job, I’ve been throwing out tons of shit and donating many other items.

It’s a daunting task, but after having to go through all my parent’s things twice and getting rid of their stuff, I don’t want our boys to go through that. It overwhelming and makes you feel guilty when you start chucking stuff.

While I will miss Sam after he moves, I will gain a new closet for my belly dance costuming and other pieces of clothing like coats, jackets, and shoes. Yay! We will also gain a proper guest room and not have to squeeze company into our tiny office space. Yay!

While he is packing, I am cleaning out and organizing things on the main floor. I genuinely feel like I did when I was pregnant with both boys, getting the nest ready but this time cleaning it out.

So we will officially be empty nesters, which is bittersweet. Knowing that both our boys, now men, are on their own, successful in their careers, are hard workers, and are polite and have manners. Yay!

This year when Marty and I went to get our Christmas tree. We wanted something small, which was still expensive. We were shocked to see how much the prices rose on trees was this year, like everything else.

We have low ceilings in our 1832 post and beam, showing how small the tree really is.

Many people may bite the bullet and buy an artificial tree for a one-time purchase, but I vowed when I moved out that I would never have one; I would do without but not go the fake route.

Our first real tree was back in 1989, the year we were married and moved to Vermont.

We slowly collected ornaments from our families over the years. Now they are put away for when Noah and Sam have their own families and Christmas trees. We went with purple, silver, pink, and white after my mother-in-law passed away and my mother had her stroke. I couldn’t look at them after that.

Why not a fake tree? Growing up, we had a fake tree that my father never took apart. Instead, he would carry it down to the basement with the lights and tinsel still on it.

He would shove it up under the basement stairs and throw a big green garbage bag over the top. The following year, he would carry it back up to the living room for us to decorate. The tree looked exactly the same every year.

Me and the same tree; the tinsel held up well over the years, I guess. 😂

I didn’t realize how pathetic that was until I was an adult with my own kids. I guess my father hated putting up a Christmas tree.

We also never had Christmas lights outside. My father said he decorated once and that “little son of a bitch paper boy” unscrewed bulbs and smashed them on the sidewalk.

How did my father know it was the paperboy? It was his exact reach at his height, he told us. So no Christmas lights growing up, but I do every year because I love them.

This week has felt long with my colonoscopy on Monday; the pathology report showed everything was normal! Thank God! On Tuesday, we had deliveries to make and an echocardiogram for Marty. Thursday after production, we made more deliveries and got our little tree.

It took me on Thursday night 5 or 6 hours to clean and move shit around to make room for the tree and my other decorations. Next came dragging all the totes upstairs from the basement. Putting up the Christmas tree is like, “the ankle bone is connected to the knee bone” kind of thing for me.

Once I finally get to start decorating, I am in my glory! I put on Christmas music for the first time of the year and drink wine. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I hate taking it down, but through past experience, I always do it neat and organized.

One year I must have been having a bad day because when I opened everything up the following year, I literally threw everything in the totes; ornaments broke, and lights were tangled beyond belief. True to my form, I threw them away and bought new ones. Lesson learned.

We were back in spätzle production on Friday; we had our farmers market today; I am completely exhausted. Tomorrow we will be in NY again, searching for a pair of swivel armchairs for our living room. It’s a long story, so I’ll tell you about it soon; until then, have a great rest of your weekend.

November 30, 2022

Tis the season…

Took longer than I wanted it to, but true to form, I needed to redo sections trying to be too fancy. Keeping it simple was the way to go.

Have a great day!

November 29, 2022November 30, 2022

I’m good…

Photo courtesy Dartmouth Hitchcock. The place is HUGE!

Just a quick post to tell you my colonoscopy went smoothly. Easiest fasting, prep, and procedure; next one will be in late 2024! ☺️

My ulcerative colitis is inactive which is wonderful news! The last two procedures showed otherwise back in 2018 & 2020.

This is quick since I have to redo our seasonal chalkboard for the farmers market. Tonight, is the only time I have, so it needs to be done.

Hopefully, I can get it done quickly and not obsess about it.

Goodnite, now to get out my chalkboard markers and get to work.

November 27, 2022

Prepping…

I don’t know how many times I’ve said I love prepping, food prep, that is. Today is a different kind of prep, colonoscopy prep.

I’m not going to talk about details to spare everyone, but I will say today has been the easiest fasting and prep day I’ve had in 40 years.

40 years? I’ve had to get colonoscopies regularly to keep a watch on my ulcerative colitis. It was embarrassing as a teenager, but I am used to it now.

In 2006, my doctor found a massive tumor attached to my right colon and appendix. I was awake enough during the procedure to know something was wrong. They gave me more drugs to keep me calm for the rest of the procedure.

Three days later, I was at an appointment with a surgeon, and six days later, I was in the OR having the tumor, right colon, and appendix removed. It was benign. Thank God!

It wouldn’t have been found if it weren’t for my bi-annual colonoscopy until it was too late. That’s why it’s essential to have it done for me and others without colitis.

What’s different about today’s prep is I slept in, then we went to work in the production kitchen making a slew of spätzle for this week’s delivery orders.

We weren’t done until almost 3:30 pm, which kept me busy and not thinking about food while on a liquid diet. I love food, cooking, and eating, so this is tough. I live to eat, not eat to live; in other words, eat to exist.

Yesterday, Marty got me a Kindle. I love reading, and even though I like the feel of a book in my hands, I don’t like buying and having books around. I tried the library, but they only had a few books I had on a long list.

I know I could get books from other libraries, but honestly, that’s too much work for me to do. I also don’t like driving to check out and return books.

I knew from my last colonoscopy prep back in 2020 any kind of social media was out since every post was about food, and I was starving.

After I publish this post, I’m going on Amazon and choosing my first book. I signed up for kindle unlimited and can also get magazines.

I never thought I’d be a Kindle person, but here I am. With the winter coming, I need to do something other than watch tv or be on social media.

My first half of drinking the prep went quickly and easily. The second half will be just as easy in a few hours. In the meantime, I am starving.

We plan to leave for Dartmouth Hitchcock around 6:30 am for a 9:00 am appointment. It’s a couple of hours away, with very few places to stop. This is stressful because what if I NEED to stop goes through my head the whole time Marty is driving.

Once tonight is over, and I am at Dart, the rest is a snap. I always look forward to the knock-out drugs, which makes me feel like I don’t have a care in the world.

That’s it; I’ll catch up with you when I am on the other side of this colonoscopy.

November 25, 2022

The turkey of my dreams…

I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving or a nice day for those who don’t celebrate it. Yes, I have a friend that is adamant about not “doing” Thanksgiving, but he did take his mom out to brunch.

I ended up throwing the wings in the stock since no one eats them.

As you know, I tried a different method for cooking my turkey this year, and it came out fantastic! Not only was it easy and fast, but this method produced the most tender and juicy turkey I have ever made. It was the best turkey we ever had, hands down!

The turkey stock also came out better, flavorful, and clear. Again, it made a fantastic gravy, better than my usual turkey gravy. There was zero waste on the turkey since it was carved before cooking, just requiring slicing the breast before serving. So simple!

The breasts resting while the thigh & leg pieces were still in the oven cooking, which always takes longer, usually drying out the breasts in the meantime.

The carcass I used for the stock was transformed into “dog food.” I mixed the turkey, rice, carrots, and leftover green bean ends with some stock. I removed the fat from the stock, and even though I always season everything well with salt, I didn’t this time, knowing it would be ok for the dogs.

The trick of putting gravy on the platter before placing the turkey on it kept everything moist.

Otto had an upset belly while we were away last week. He had diarrhea multiple times every night we were gone. He wasn’t eating much, but he was drinking plenty of water. At first, we thought it was separation anxiety, but we’ve gone away before. Then I thought maybe he ate something disgusting in the yard or was getting old and sliding downhill.

Last night, I mixed some turkey and rice with his dry food, and he devoured it. He did at breakfast time and dinner tonight. He seems like he is feeling better; fingers crossed.

My kitchen hack to cut the ends off of green beans and have uniform-sized beans; the ends went into the dog food.

He hasn’t needed to go out in the middle of the night for the last two nights, so who knows? We have an appointment at the vet in December, but we could bring him in sooner if he didn’t get better.

The rest of the clear stock will be my “food” on Sunday. I have to consume only liquids for a colonoscopy on Monday morning at Dartmouth Hitchcock.

I’ve had so many colonoscopies over the years for my ulcerative colitis I’ve lost track. The procedure is a snap; drinking that nasty shit is the most challenging part I hate; the rest of it, I don’t mind.

Happy Friday! The week has flown by since we went away; I can’t believe it’s our farmers market day again already tomorrow. Have a great weekend! I’ll check in with you on Sunday.

November 24, 2022

Thanksgiving…

Happy Thanksgiving!!! It’s weird to be sipping coffee and chatting on the phone with my sister this morning instead of running around getting the turkey in the oven and making turkey stock.

Yesterday, I broke down the turkey or cutting it into parts. I watched a Youtube video last week which demos a new and easier way to cook a turkey and I am trying it this Thanksgiving.

Following the demo video, I made a big pot of turkey stock with the carcass and turned it on last night. it has been on a slow simmer for about 14 hours. It smells so thanksgiving-ish in here already.

Yesterday, I prepped all the sides and just have to finish everything off. The turkey will only take 30 minutes to cook in the oven after browning the skin first. That’s fast!

We are having an early dinner so Sam can eat with Marty, Noah and me before he goes to work at the ER. I am thankful we can be together this year.

I wish you all a great day and hope everyone will have a table to gather around with others, enjoying whatever feast you fancy.

I am thankful for each of you and the meaningful life I live and the family and friends I share it with.

Have a great day and for the love of monkeys, try not to get stressed out! I did that for decades and learned it wasn’t worth it. 🦃🍁