When I woke up early on Sunday morning I saw a bouquet of flowers on my kitchen island. Then I saw Sam!
We haven’t seen Sammy since the middle of February when I was sick with pneumonia; I barely remember the visit.
After I said, “Sam!” He replied, “Happy Mother’s Day!” He planned to come down for a couple of days since he a few days off. Yay!
Klaus was over the moon and Nelly finally got to meet her other big brother, she already has spent time with Noah and his girlfriend, Aja.
Nelly, in her truest form, captured Sam’s heart. He got a kick out of what a mischievous tough little girl she is. She made him smile and laugh but most of all, she loved cuddling with him.
Then, just like that, his visit was over, I am so happy we got to spend some time together. ❤️
I just wrote today about our string of bad luck, loss and stress since November. That was before we got the news…the clay pipe from the house to the septic system is gone.
We started to get water in our basement a couple of weeks ago but thought it was ground water. Then it got worse and worse.
Marty checked if it was coming from the washer, it wasn’t. Today, he looked in a crawl space where the septic system starts and discovered 3 feet of the clay pipe gone.
There are lots of details but this where we are are at 7:51 pm. We have no septic, meaning we can’t use any water except in buckets and dumping them outside. No toilets is a big one or two I should say.
Marty met with a local guy who does this type of work and found out a new pipeline needs to be installed. Easy? Never for us.
We have to have a 190 year old retaining wall taken down so the machinery can dig the new line. A new wall will need to be installed.
Our outdoor walk-in refrigerator needs to be moved. A new tank will have to be installed since the old piping is under part of our production kitchen and there is no way to get to it without destroying the buildings.
We won’t have water for the next 24-48 hours. The inside of our house sells like it is the septic system. It’s bad, very bad.
We can’t go into production until the septic system is repaired. By the way, we had to put a new septic system in two weeks after we bought our house in 2004, that didn’t include the clay piping.
Restaurants will have to 86 our spätzle on their menus and replace it with another starch. Stores will have to wait. Customers will have to wait which means no sales.
We will have a total fucking mess after the new septic is installed. The person who is doing the job will then start putting everything back together. It will look good when it’s all over, but still what the actual fuck!
At this point I am done. Marty is done too. I thought we were good people who constantly try to help others, but get the short end of the stick every time.
We are lucky we have neighbors who graciously offered their restrooms and showers which we will have to take them up on since it’s a very shitty situation.
I’m not editing this post, it is what it is. I’ll keep you posted. ~julz
During my illness, I watched a lot of Youtube videos. There is not much more you can do when you are too sick to do anything else, and I didn’t want to drown myself in a sea of negativity scrolling through my social media newsfeeds. Smart right?
One day I stumbled upon a Youtube channel called “Ame, in a van.” Ame’s videos are 10-15 minutes long, and I liked her concept of spending two years building her travel van. She is a young woman in her 20s traveling alone through Europe.
Her parents did the same thing, sold their home and all their belongings, building their van, just larger. They, too, have a Youtube channel of their own which is successful like Ame’s.
I watched Ame’s video on Paris and was highly disappointed and disgusted by what I saw in the city of lights. The city that has been my lifelong destination to visit one day.
The place I dreamt about since reading the children’s books, Madeline. I’ve written about Madeline before on my blog. I still love those books!
So many people! This is last summer in high season, but more people have started visiting Paris during the off time; most likely, those times will also begin to be crowded. I think people, in general, have forgotten about their manners, respect, and regard for others since the pandemic.
Then I learned about Paris Syndrome. I was experiencing Paris Syndrome without even traveling there. Paris Syndrome is real; I can attest to that, even sitting on my couch. Instead of me trying to explain it, here is one of the articles I read Paris Syndrome.
No, thank you!
This is what made me realize why I never made the trip before, I am not a world traveler, and neither is Marty, even though he traveled to many places and cities around the world with his family as a child. I didn’t want to happen in Paris what happened when we traveled in the past.
Our wonderful trips were trips to Aruba for our honeymoon, Puerto Rico with our friends Daniel and Michael, Montreal with Marty’s brother, Germany, where he has relatives, New York City, which we know like the back of our hands, and Phoenix.
I went to California for three weeks when I worked for Giorgio Armani, but the whole trip was planned for me, and I worked the entire time. I did get to sightsee on my only day off; one of the other employees took me to LA. What a cool city to see through a local’s eyes.
The trips that were total fails for us were to Austria, Amsterdam, East Germany, Boston, and Las Vegas, to name a few. When we get to places alone, we aren’t familiar with; we are like deer in headlights.
We research places to eat, attractions to see, and hotels to stay at; we wander around aimlessly and always feel disappointed or have Paris syndrome with those trips.
I think travel tours and cruises are wonderful for people to see the world. My bio mom has traveled all around the world and loves traveling. I am very envious of her love of travel, but I didn’t get that gene or her slim tall figure. Lol.
She used to travel with her husband, but after his passing, she goes on tours and cruises with her friends; they have amazing times. She has worked hard and spends her money practically to be able to travel. Kudos to her. ♥️
Shortly after, I made my realization about Paris; I found out about the possibility of having severe lung issues. I wasn’t sad if I couldn’t fulfill my fairytale dream because of an illness, which was very telltale about my Paris decision.
I decided to keep Paris as my fairytale dream and not spoil what I have in my head. It’s like watching a bad movie of your favorite book; it ruins what you had previously imagined.
About a month ago, when I was in a deep, dark state of depression, Marty asked me if it was time for me to finally have a little baby girl Frenchie to help with all my heartaches, illness, and loss had I experienced over the last few months.
I don’t write about everything since I don’t want this to be a woe-is-me blog. For instance, I took a horrible fall at 6 am on Easter morning, stepping down from the porch to our driveway. I rolled down the driveway since it is on a hill.
I was holding Nelly and somehow managed to not fall on her. I landed on my right side and did a number on my right arm. The next day, I felt like I was run over by a truck.
Back to Paris, I apologize for getting off track; that’s my Irish storytelling. After being ok about not going to Paris, how fitting it seemed to adopt a Frenchie, I love Frenchies and would freak out whenever I saw one.
There are lots of Frenchiee that go to the Troy Market, and I remember most of their names. I never thought there would be a possibility of having one before; we didn’t want to get any more pets after Klaus since we wanted to travel. Lol.
Well, you all know what happened next…Nelly! The perfect puppy for our family, it feels like she’s always been here and has blended into our lives seamlessly. She is brilliant and learns things quickly.
Nelly and Klaus are in love with each other and are inseparable. Nelly is so much fun for Klaus at this older stage of life. They love playing and resting together outside on warm, sunny days on the couch.
Here is a short video showing how much fun they have together. Klaus is an old softie, and Nelly has brass balls.
I traded my fairytale dream place that would have lasted for a week for a life to be fulfilled right here in Arlington, VT, and travel to places we can drive to and bring Nelly & Klaus along.
Will we ever travel again? Of course, but on vacations, we feel comfortable such as visiting different all-inclusive resorts in the Caribbean or Mexico.
What a relaxing trip it would be to go to a resort where we wouldn’t have to leave if we didn’t want to.
A vacation we don’t have to think about, and the only expectation is beautiful blue-green water, blue skies, sunshine, and which island cocktails to try every day. 🍹
Have you ever had Paris Syndrome on one of your trips somewhere? I doubt we are the only ones. Au Revoir, friends.
I am so proud of both of my sons, I’ve used the old fashioned saying, “I’m so proud my buttons are popping off,” or something like that.
Sam has been a registered nurse for two years already and has worked on a rescue squad since he is 14. Critical care emergency medicine is his specialty.
Right now, he is 22 years old and working hard on his career while working in the busy Emergency Department at UVM up in Burlington, VT.
The next thing on Sam’s agenda was to become a paramedic. He entered a program called RN to Paramedic course.
He did 6 weeks of online learning on his own time then spent 2 weeks of practical training in Missouri.
He ran with rescue squads not only in Missouri, but Arkansas, Tennessee and on Indian reservations.
Sam told us he learned a lot, met a lot of great people and made friends for life. Who could ask for more in continuing ed?
He was the first one out of 20 to take and pass his written and practical exams. He likes to test right after since he is pumped up and wants to get it over with.
Now when he joins a rescue squad in his new area, he can run as a paramedic as well as when he’s visiting here in Arlington.
Many of the students in his class were taking the class for the same reason as Sam. They all want “fly” and want to be able to work per diem shifts or work full time at a medical flight agency as a nurse or paramedic.
There are many differences between what a nurse and paramedic can do on emergency flights. They can do either which gives them flexibility when picking up shifts.
They all will have to go to flight school before they can practice emergency medicine in the air. Sam said it’s a hard class with only a 50% pass rate the first time you take the exams.
It’s difficult knowing the correct dosages of medications which are different up in a helicopter or airplane. Also, whoever is onboard with the flight team is in a life or death situation.
There is so much important information they will need to learn and train for. He already has the adrenaline, compassion and the ability to stay calm to perform the job well.
I have no doubt he will do it. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention, but I am my kids biggest fan and wanted to share.
I haven’t had the energy or the will to cook or do baking, but today I did! I haven’t cooked a few dishes at once since our dinner party on January 29. Yikes!
Nelly got us up nice and early, at 5 am. My body clock switched when she joined our family. I crash into bed by 9:30 pm at the latest and fall right to sleep. It’s pretty amazing; sleep is so underrated.
I started by writing my own recipe and experimenting with soft training treats and doggie crackers using the same dough. This will be a separate post on Monday.
Next, I made my infamous tomato tart for Easter dinner at our friend’s house. Did I mention this is the first time in 33 years I’ve had to cook Easter Dinner?
Then, I made a classic French fluffy asparagus quiche for Easter breakfast tomorrow morning. OMG! I love fluffy quiche.
I made seared scallops for dinner with a white sine and lemon pan sauce, risotto, and sautéed asparagus, the leftovers from the quiche.
It was relaxing having a glass of wine, listening to a dinner party playlist, and slowly and lovingly stirring the risotto. I was taught to always use the same wooden spoon and stir the risotto clockwise.
I’ve been doing that for 25 years, and it always comes out perfect. There are no shortcuts when making risotto, and it’s not something you can rush. This is why risotto is such a popular dish in restaurants.
Dinner was incredible; I realized how much I missed cooking while I was sick. Marty kept saying how good it was. I know he missed my cooking for seven weeks. We threw things together that passed as substance. I was so sick I didn’t give a shit what I ate.
I had all eyes on me while I was prepping at my butcher block kitchen island.
I am feeling better every day. I was pleased with how much I accomplished being home alone with a puppy that is hell on wheels and into everything. Klaus is a good sport and is showing her the ropes.
Look for my post about my three-ingredient doggie treats recipe that is easy to make. I’ll show you how they came out. I am packaging some for my friend’s dogs. I’ll see tomorrow at Easter dinner.
Someone looks very serious and looks like a cat.Those blue eyes are really something.
This puppy has made me one of those doggie moms I never thought I’d be. Never say never, they say. I finally have a little “girl” in my life; my friend Jon says she will be one lucky dog. He’s right. I can’t wait to pick out some clothes for her when she’s full-size. 🤗
Klaus spent the afternoon making deliveries and running errands in Dorset & Manchester, VT with me. I’ve got color in my cheeks again and a smile. I had no issues making the deliveries which I couldn’t do last week.
Although this is Easter weekend, this is not a religious post, or have anything to do with Jesus, Rabbi, or Yeshua what I call Him.
This post is about me, and the rebirth I felt overnight after seeing the pulmonologist on Wednesday afternoon.
The pulmonary office had a cancellation, calling me at 8 am asking if I could be there at 2 pm. Wild horses couldn’t stop me.
I didn’t have time to be nervous days before the appointment. My original appointment was in April 26, which was still 3 weeks away.
I saw an older male pulmonologist which I wasn’t sure about the first 10 seconds. Then he spoke to me in a calm, father-like tone. The first thing he did was going over my complete medical history.
It’s really helpful now that I know my family’s medical history on my mother’s side and bits and pieces of my father’s. (Newcomers, I was adopted and speaking of my biological parents.)
I brought him up to date with the whole pneumonia situation and how I’ve noticed I’ve had breathing issues before I became ill such as climbing 2 flights of stairs and while performing at the 2 gigs at last year.
It all makes sense now. He showed me the three X-rays and cat scan, explaining everything he saw. This scarring happened before I had pneumonia he strongly surmised.
The doctor spent an hour with me, easing my worst thoughts. This wasn’t as bad as I thought.
The pulmonologist suspected the scarring in my lungs was most likely caused by the drug Humira I’ve been injecting for 5 years. He told me not to go back on it.
At the end of my appointment, the doctor prescribed a course of prednisone and a different inhaler to be used mornings & evenings.
Marty purchased me a device to blow into that creates oscillating positive pressure, in your airways and clears away mucus and improves your breathing.
In 6 weeks, I’ll have another cat scan to see if my lungs are improving. If not, I’ll be referred to a specialist at Dartmouth Hitchcock where my gastroenterologist is.
The pulmonologist can’t say for sure if this is only scarring even though that’s what he is thinking. He told me to keep in mind there is a possibility it could be pulmonary fibrosis.
The doctor was very nice made me feel comfortable. He gave me hope and told me not to worry so much. He also told me that I looked good and healthy.
Marty was relieved when I told him about my appointment. He told me, this is the turning point, you’re going to be fine and back to my normal self in no time.
I got a great nights sleep and woke up feeling different. A huge, heavy weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt alive and had energy. I wasn’t consumed with worry and doubt.
I was so crippled with anxiety and fear it was as if they were holding my body in a straight jacket; that jacket is now removed and I am starting to feel like myself again. It’s amazing what the mind can do.
I realized upon waking, this was a rebirth for me in no uncertain terms. This was the turning point Marty spoke of.
Our house is usually tidy, especially since we decluttered many things and went for a simple design with clean lines.
Don’t get me wrong, when we were super busy with the business, and I was sick, there was shit everywhere. I was so ill I didn’t care, which is unlike me.
Even when I think my house is a wreck, people who stop by think our house is clean. I guess it’s different perspectives and expectations. Mine are very high since I am a total asshole perfectionist.
The last time I gave the place a top-to-bottom cleaning was at the end of January when we hosted a dinner party for our friends. A week before, I became ill.
Last week, in the production kitchen, I learned I could not be in the kitchen when it’s being disinfected with bleach spray and sanitized.
We tried using a bucket with bleach and water, but that made me cough my head off, and my airway felt raw. I needed to use my emergency inhaler to catch my breath from coughing.
Marty has taken over the production kitchen disinfection and sanitizing; however, on Friday, I returned to the kitchen with a towel over my face to get something, and I coughed until Sunday. This is a serious problem.
I love cleaning and washing whites with bleach. When Noah was small, someone said he was so clean he smelled like bleach. I was proud sick then, but now I think I was a complete whack job.
I shudder thinking he breathed in bleach every day. Up until last week, bleach meant clean to me. How else could I get his onesies, socks, and white shoelaces sparkling clean? Ugh! 😑
Even my favorite orange furniture oil contains fragrance allergens. I will have to pick up old-fashioned lemon oil and use that instead.
After we realized I couldn’t do the final cleaning in the kitchen anymore, I knew I had to change all the chemicals I used to clean our house and laundry. I had to replace everything literally!
Marty went to Hannaford Supermarket and picked up the line of Method cleaning products. I already used some, and they worked fantastically. The shower spray shocked me with how well it cleaned the white shower tiles. I sprayed it on and didn’t rinse it off as the bottle said.
I switched to free and clear laundry pods and ordered new shampoo, conditioner, and detangler for my hair. I already use an all-natural goat’s milk soap I get from my friend Joanne, a fellow vendor at the farmers market. Joanne’s soaps smell great and last 4-6 months.
I don’t have an appointment with my new pulmonologist until April 26th. I don’t know how bad my pulmonary fibrosis is. I am taking it very seriously if I am going to fight this fucker and live a long life.
Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, but I am living a little to no chemicals life, eating healthier, even healthier than I am already.
I also started moving more; Nelly was the perfect answer to the moving more part. I can’t wait to go for walks with the dogs when she gets a little bigger.
The title of this blog post is called, Cleaning 2.0 since I have to change the way I clean with different products
Even if you think your home is clean, it’s not a new baby, puppy, or kitten clean. Holy shit, there were more hidden dust bunnies, electrical wires, and all kinds of shit she could chew on, eat, or pull over.
Today, when Klaus and Marty, were out making deliveries in NY. I found an old baby gate and blocked Nelly in our back room. She needs constant supervision, and this was the best place for her.
While I was upstairs cleaning, I suddenly heard a bunch of noises. I went downstairs to check on her; she got tired of playing with her toys and hiding out in her bunker, also known as the loveseat. She knocked over or pulled down everything she could reach. Nosey Nelly!
I decided at that moment It was snuggle time. Nelly laid in the same spot behind my legs where Otto used to when we snuggled. It made me feel good; instead of making me cry because I missed him so much.
I am covered in dog hair after cleaning up all the dust bunnies.
Klausie boy isn’t a snuggler, so I am glad Nelly is. Today, I felt connected to Otto through Nelly; it was a beautiful, peaceful feeling.
I am happy to report I am going back to belly dance tomorrow night while Marty holds down the fort in puppy land. I’ve missed it so much and the lovely women I dance with.
This is a post about coffee. Being Irish, it always takes a backstory or two before you get to the main point. That’s how this post starts.
I haven’t checked in for a few days. I got really sick, so sick Marty took me to the ER in the middle of the night. I didn’t object, so that tells you something.
Sam no longer works in the ER, but everyone knew I was Sam’s mom. At first glance and exam, the provider was sure it was only bronchitis. Marty and I knew it was more than that.
It turns out the chest x-ray showed I had pneumonia. I got a breathing treatment and two antibiotics to start as soon as possible.
Poor Marty was dicked around getting my two prescriptions, which was a total shit show in itself. The pharmacy finally figured out everything, and I started taking them when he returned.
Within six hours, I was feeling better. The next day was nothing short of a miracle. We made product to fill orders which went smoothly. I got tired in the afternoon, so I napped and rested for the rest of the day.
Ditto for today, same as the day before. I wasn’t nearly as tired and felt 90% better. Yay!
When I was lying around feeling miserable and coughing my fucking head off for a week, I started thinking about dumb things. Things would probably become blog posts down the road.
I haven’t had a cup of coffee for ten days. I’ve been guzzling down herbal tea and honey. In the last couple of days, I switched to caffeinated tea in the morning, but I still don’t feel like having coffee.
Ok, so here comes the story! Finally. ☘️🇮🇪
We’ve been in coffee pot hell for more than a year. We’ve had a Keurig maker for years but got tired of the cost and waste of the pods, plus the coffee wasn’t hot enough.
We went back to a regular 8-cup maker. We wasted so much coffee! It made me mad. So we got a 4-cup maker. We loved it for a while, then I broke it, and it isn’t made anymore. Damn.
Next, we got a single-brew coffee maker. I can’t tell you how bad it sucked. Marty boxed it up and shipped it back to Amazon for a refund.
Now what? I only drink one cup of coffee in the morning. Marty has one regular, then switches to decaf. I left it up to him to decide.
He chose the pour-over-a-cup filter. We have an electric teapot that heats up in seconds. You slowly pour the hot water over the grounds in the filter, and drips into your cup. Brilliant!
The coffee is delicious and hot. Bravo! We finally found our perfect coffee solution, which is better than anything we’ve tried.
Here is where the dumb thinking comes in. If the coffee filters and drips into the cup, why aren’t coffee bags like tea bags? When I thought of this, I couldn’t believe this wasn’t a thing. Is it?
I asked Marty, and he said that’s what instant coffee is. No, no, no I tell him. The coffee would brew in your cup like a tea bag.
Speaking of instant coffee, my Uncle Steve, Aunt Claire’s husband, drank thousands of cups of Taster’s Choice. He loved it.
When I was little, like 7 or 8, Uncle Steve used to tell everyone that I made the best cup of coffee. I spent a lot of time with them and made him at least 100 cups. I would smile from ear to ear when he told people about my coffee.
I remember I would put on the tea kettle. Stand on a chair and get out a coffee cup. I would open the instant coffee and smell it. I put what I thought was the exact amount of coffee on the teaspoon and put it into the cup.
When the kettle went off, I carefully poured the hot water into the cup, leaving enough room for the milk.
I knew exactly how much milk and sugar he liked. A foam formed on top of the coffee, which I would stir until it was gone, then add the milk and sugar.
Finally, I would take a sip to make sure it tasted right. I would always say, “Yup, that’s how he likes it.” He’s the only one I ever made coffee for. He would thank me and tell me I made the best coffee every time.
This is a sweet memory from my childhood. Aunt Claire told me I was going to put her out of business. I was very close to them; Aunt Claire was my mother’s sister and my Godmother. Gosh, I miss them terribly.
Back to coffee bags. Am I the only person who thinks this? Think how convenient this would be. You could take your favorite coffee and have it anytime you can get hot water. Why isn’t this a thing? So I did some research.
It is a thing! Ha! I knew I wasn’t the first person to think of this. This woman apparently did:
How nice they give you a warning. 🤣
When I get up in the morning, the last thing I want to do is futz with coffee. I saw fillable tea bags for coffee. Noooo! I am not awake enough to curse that much when I make a mess in my kitchen.
There are wide different varieties and price levels of coffee bags. Some are stupid money. You could go to a coffee shop, which would be cheaper, gas included.
I went on Amazon and picked a middle-of-the-road, medium-roast coffee from Ecuador. It’s reasonably priced and as easy as making a cup of tea. I read the reviews, so I ordered a box to try it.
55 cents a cup. Not bad. Why isn’t the cent sign on keyboards anymore? WTF?
This would be perfect on the road or at the farmers market where we can have boiled water. I haven’t figured out the creamer on the road thing yet, but one step at a time.
Marty will see that I ordered these coffee bags and have something to say. Like, that’s ridiculous; I make you good coffee already. He does, but this is to satisfy my curiosity.
My package is scheduled for delivery on Sunday, so I’ll let you know the outcome. I still think it’s a brilliant concept.
By the way, this is the dumbest thing I saw while researching. I’ll leave you with this. You’re welcome! 😝
Banana bread muffin. I want to frost them with chocolate frosting. Mmmm!
I wonder if everyone gets specific food cravings when they are sick. I do, and they are different with each sickness.
When I had the flu a few years ago, I only wanted baked Brie cheese topped with strawberry preserves. I would spread it on toast or crackers.
When I had covid last April, I wanted Hunts Snack-pack chocolate pudding. Badly! When I finally got my pudding, Marty and I had covid simultaneously, the packaging is always a major disappointment. When I was a kid, it came in a tin can with a ring-pull top to open it.
Anyone who was lucky enough to have one of these babies in their lunchbox ate it just like I did.
You would carefully lift the ring-pull and pull slowly. If you went too quickly, the worse thing would happen, the ring pull broke off, and you couldn’t open your pudding! Yikes! This only happened once to me, and I was heartbroken. Lol.
Marty made me perfect grits.
Next, you would lick the sharp metal top to get every speck of pudding. Then you ate it. I ate my slow and savored it. I also loved when my mother would make boxed pudding for my dad and me and spoon them into little glass custard cups. Yum! I licked the saran wrap that covered it, of course. it wasn’t as fun as a sharp metal lid, but still good.
Plain and simple white rice.
This time while I have bronchitis, I want creamy, buttery, salty foods. I’ve had buttered rice, buttered potatoes, buttered grits, and today pasta carbonara. I’ve been craving sweet things too, but we don’t have anything in the house.
I’m Irish and love potatoes!
Marty just headed out to Bennington to pick up a prescription for a cough suppressant since nothing is working. Express care was a useless trip over the weekend. They told me I was Covid negative and had bronchitis. No shit Sherlock!
Spaghetti Carbonara
Express Care prescribed me nose spray that did nothing except give me horrendous headaches and nothing for the cough. A hacking, painful cough that never goes away, making me have to sleep upright in a chair.
Marty suggested we eat outside in the fresh air, which felt great after being cooped up inside for almost a week. I could barely keep my eyes open from the bright sunshine. This is sick me 100%, and I look like shit. 🤦🏻♀️
My primary doctor was not in today, but luckily another provider looked at my “chart” and gave me a cough suppressant! Hallelujah!
Marty asked me earlier if there was anything I wanted when he went out. I sat down and made a list. Keep in mind, my list of items is nothing I would ever think of buying, let alone crave.
Ice Cream
Chocolate frosting in a can
Popsicles
Ginger-ale
I know that when Sam had covid last May, he only wanted brown sugar and maple oatmeal. Lol.
I sincerely hope this new prescription works because no matter what, I have to go back to work tomorrow. I haven’t worked since Thursday.
I don’t have to worry about a coughing fit in the kitchen since I wear an industrial mask all the time to keep the fine flour particles out of my sinuses and lungs,
Yes, it’s a thing that happens to people who work with flour a lot. It took me a year to figure this out for myself. It’s called Bakers Lung. If you didn’t know, well, now you know.
That’s it for now; hopefully, in my next blog post, I’ll be on the other side of this bronchitis. Happy Valentines Day tomorrow! ❤️
*** What a guy; Marty is the best and got me everything on my list. He’s my Valentine every day!
Sunday night, I went out with the Martins: my Marty and friend Martin, the chef across the street. We had three tickets to see the Broadway hit “The Book of Mormon” at Proctors Theater. The third ticket was for Sam, but we had an extra since he is in Burlington.
I never thought Sam would agree to dinner and a show with us since Broadway musicals aren’t his thing. He wanted to go because he loved the show South Park.
Sam and I have been watching South Park together for years. The two guys who are the co-creators of South Park, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, also wrote the funniest musical ever written or performed, The Book of Mormon.
Now if you haven’t seen South Park, I must tell you it isn’t for lightweights. This comedy sitcom isn’t for everyone since they make inappropriate episodes, always making fun of someone famous or current events and offending groups of people.
The show is a cartoon, and no one is safe from becoming “an episode.” Cartoon children are the main characters with filthy little mouths talking about things no child should know about.
Why do we like it? I don’t know because we do and find the show hysterical. Some people don’t like it, and some love it. It’s a do or doesn’t kind of thing.
Martin 1.
We asked Martin if he wanted to come with us, and fortunately for us, he did. We went to Maxon’s American Grill and ate dinner before the show.
Martin 2.
Instead of me trying to explain the show if you are interested in what the hell I’m talking about, here’s the link. The Book of Mormons.
Now that you have an idea of what the show is about, I must tell you Marty laughed hysterically throughout the entire show. So did Martin and me.
The musical has clever and quick set changes, and the actors are brilliant and can sing and dance with the best of them. The lighting sets the mood of each scene wonderfully. The scenery makes you feel like the characters are there, especially in the Hell dream number.
I don’t think we have ever laughed that much for over two hours. I loved when the elders broke into a full-on tap number complete with 5,6.7,8.
If you look at reviews, many people loved it, while conservatives and religious groups hated it; no surprise.
The Book of Mormon won 9 Tony awards for Best Musical, Best Score, Best Book, Best Direction, Best Featured Actress, Best Scenic Design, Best Lighting, Best Sound Design, and Best Orchestra.
This morning when I did some research on the show, I was impressed to see I was right about the observations I made about the show last night.
The audience was a completely different crowd than the other shows we have seen over the last couple of years. The audience ranged in ages from 20-60+. It was a hip crowd with very few older senior citizens like usual.
The audience members had more relaxed outfits, and most wore black, like us. We were totally in our element, including Martin.
The audience laughed through the show and applauded like crazy. This was the first show people stayed until the end. No one rushed out before the show was over to get to their car first, like usual.
The people who leave early are the same type who used to leave after communion and not return to their pews because they also wanted to get to their cars first.
Why? Why are people always so eager to run out of churches, movies, shows, concerts, and sporting events? Wasn’t the point of going in the first place was to see something you wanted to see or do?
In the case of leaving before the end of mass, in my opinion, it’s a bit hypocritical to show everyone you are a good Catholic by going to church out of obligation but can’t wait to get the hell out of there.
These are the same people who shook my hands and my children’s hands and wished us peace, then refused to let us cross the parking lot to get to our car. Or honk at people to drive, for fucks sake! 🤦🏻♀️
My dad was no hypocrite, he didn’t like going to church. Period. When I was in Catholic school, I was supposed to attend church every week. To ensure families went, they put all the essential school information in the bulletin.
Instead of taking me to church, my dad would pull up in the front of the church and hand me the envelope that contained the required amount of money we needed to donate each week. Donate?
This was on top of my tuition, and it was mandatory for school parents to work the church fair, held in July, for 3 nights. This was right after working all day, where my father sweated his ass off in a machine shop..🤔
Anyway, my dad would tell me to smile at the usher, hand him the donation basket envelope, and ask him for a bulletin. I went to the same guy weekly, and he winked at me. Easy as pie.
Then my dad would take me to the donut shop or out to breakfast. I loved our breakfasts together. He told me never to tell my mother our little Sunday morning trick. I would never want to ruin spending time with my dad, he was fun, and he loved to eat. I never told her, even when I was an adult. It was our little secret.
Where was my mother when we were supposed to be at church? She said she didn’t have the patience to take a baby, the other child they adopted, to mass. She would be sitting in her robe when we got home, smoking cigarettes, and talking on the phone while their other child was in front of the tv.
The funny thing was, I took both my “babies” to mass by myself since Marty isn’t Catholic. It wasn’t easy some weeks, some weeks they got yelled at on the way home for their behavior, but they did learn things and later became alter servers.
After the boys made their sacraments, I stopped attending church for several reasons. Since then, I have a very close and intimate relationship with God and love Him with all of my heart. I don’t pray; I talk to Him. I trust Him with everything and give my worries over to Him.
Ok, enough church talk. Honestly, good for the people who go because they actually want to go and find comfort in praying with their families and community.
People may not believe how spiritual I am because of the way I am. Guess what? Spiritual people say fuck and curse like sailors. They also love shows like The Book of Mormon and can see the show’s true meaning when others see only raunchiness and swearing.
To me, the show was about love, friendship, questioning faith, trusting each other, and standing up for yourself and others. To work together as a village and not against each other.
The show proved good always wins over evil. It showed you can still do a world of good but go about it differently than the traditional way. It was about trying to spread faith, ringing one doorbell at a time.
To think, the musical and the message were co-created by two guys who are funnier than shit and aren’t afraid to offend people. The bottom line, they got their point across.
I read somewhere the Mormons took out an ad in the playbill when the show first opened on Broadway in 2011, saying something like: while the show may be entertaining to tonight’s audience, if they read the book, it would change their life, just like in the opening song.
