Category: Uncategorized

I love Chinese food; actually, I love all kinds of Asian food and miss a lot of dishes because they aren’t gluten-free. One of the dishes I miss most is part of Chinese Dim Sum, steamed pork buns or char sui bao.

Growing up in Iselin, NJ, we had many different ethnic food shops right around the corner from our house. There was an Italian shop called Mistretta’s. There was also Stanleys Polish Meat Market and Ding-How, a Chinese Market.

On Saturday mornings, Ding How would carry those delicious steamed pork buns char sui bao. The steamed buns were soft and sweet. The buns were stuffed with char siu pork, which is pork coated with that shiny, lacquered red sauce you find on ribs on a pu-pu platter.

After we moved to Vermont, we missed our Saturday morning steamed pork buns but could still find them in Albany, NY, if we wanted them. Then we went gluten-free, and we had to scratch another much-loved food off of your favorites list. 🙁

It took me seven years to develop my gluten-free spätzle recipe; it bugged me for years that I couldn’t nail it, then when I did, I was like, “fuck yeah!”

I’ve been working on a handful of other recipes that I am trying to convert to gluten-free versions. Most of the dishes I am trying to replicate are tricky. I always think I am not a patient person, but when replicating food recipes, I stick with it until I get it right.

A couple of months ago when we ate at our favorite Chinese restaurant Ala Shanghai in Albany, NY, a place that serves more gluten-free Chinese food than other places we have found so far. When we were having dinner there, we watched the waiter carve a Peking duck right at the people’s tables. It was pretty fantastic to watch how skilled the waiter was with his knife work. It was like watching dinner theater.

Next, we saw him take out soft bao buns, which are unstuffed steamed buns. He then added the Peking duck and pickled vegetables to the buns. The bao sandwiches had both of us drooling as we watched the waiter put the platter on the diner’s table. I asked how it was, and the people said they drive from far away a couple of times a year to have the Peking duck bao buns. Damn, they must really be good.

I found a recipe for Peking pork which is thinly sliced pork that has been marinated then stir-fried. The pieces of pork are added to the Peking sauce that they use for duck, making it Peking pork. Pretty clever and not hard to make. Then comes the steamed bao buns, the hard part.

It’s hard to find a reliable recipe for most gluten-free Chinese dishes; the steamed bun recipes all seemed fussy, requiring lots of ingredients I don’t keep on hand, such as isolated whey protein, expanded tapioca flour, and glutinous rice flour.

Yesterday, I tried a bao bun recipe with things in my pantry. The recipe seemed straightforward but failed. When I kneaded the dough before the proofing; I had zero chance of the recipe working. I said it out loud to Marty, then hours later, when it did fail, I said I knew it! I hate throwing away ingredients, but it’s necessary when figuring out recipes.

Today, I am trying again. The ingredients are different ones that I used yesterday, still ones that I had in my pantry. Twice I have heated the milk in the recipe too much. Adding yeast to liquids above 110 degrees kills the yeast, which happened with the first round. I started again, and the milk was too hot again, so I cooled the milk down in an ice bath before adding the yeast. I am so aggravated with myself for already screwing up the recipe.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

When I added the wet ingredients to the dry, I noticed way too much liquid in the recipe. I thought this when I measured the ingredients but wanted to wait and see what would happen. I was right. I kept adding more tapioca flour until the dough came together; beforehand, the dough was more like cake batter. This was when I started cursing the recipe writer.

After adding more tapioca to form a dough, I began to knead it for 10 minutes like the recipe said to do. I had to keep adding more tapioca flour to keep the dough from sticking to the benchtop. After the dough seemed smooth, I put it into a greased bowl and covered it with plastic wrap. I set a 90-minute timer and waited; figuring I had a 50/50 shot of failure or success.

• 

• 

• 

• 

The dough doubled in size and had a smooth, shiny sheen to it. I followed the directions, kneaded the dough for 3 more minutes, and divided it into small balls. I placed them on greased pieces of kitchen wrap. I let them rise again for 30 minutes. I turned on the Chinese steamer with the filled with buns.

Now was the moment of truth, will they or won’t they come out as expected? They did! Sweet victory…I gotta write this shit down, I thought.

I made the Peking pork which was easy and came out exactly as I wanted it to. I am not sure why it’s called Peking pork; it is char sui pork, but whatever, it’s delicious and didn’t matter what the hell it was called.

• 

• 

I quick-pickled some carrots & red onions to go along with my already pickled daikon radishes I keep in the refrigerator. We sliced the bao buns then stuffed the pork and pickled veggies creating a soft bao taco, if you will. The first taste? Holy crap! They tasted exactly like the char sui bao buns we remembered!

It seems like even though it isn’t even winter yet, I have been cooking up a storm. As a hobby, it keeps me busy after production, and my kitchen is my zen, happy place. The result happens to be some great meals which I guess is a better hobby than sitting and doing jigsaw puzzles all day. Lol! 😜

On to the next recipe to replicate!

Another week flew by; I feel like I write that every week. Tomorrow, we have our farmer’s market down in Troy, NY. Last week we moved into our winter indoor location at the Atrium Building in downtown Troy. Most Saturdays, we are on the road by 5:30 am, stop and deliver to one of our wholesale customers, then head to the market.

• 

• 

• 

We are usually one of the first vendors to arrive at the market. We like being there early, even though it sucks waking up so early. Setting up and watching everyone else race around to get themselves ready for business is entertaining.

• 

• 

• 

• 

The thing that makes Saturday mornings challenging is eating. It’s much more complicated than you can imagine finding a quick, grab-and-go breakfast. Besides a banana or a hard-boiled egg, such a thing doesn’t exist. We would love to stop and get a muffin, a bagel, or an egg sandwich. I usually pack something for breakfast that is only substance and not enjoyable.

Every week, we eat something lame and are starving the rest of the day. Now that we have to wear masks again indoors, you can’t nibble on snacks to tide you over. We also can’t leave the booth to eat in the designated dining area.

Another vendor couple, Josh & Jamie, is gluten-free for medical reasons like ours, and the four of us pout every week. We bitch and moan, make each other hungry and talk about the food we wished we could have from the market or a convenience store.

• 

• 

Today, after production, I made mini apple cheddar tartlets for our Saturday morning breakfast. I made enough for Jamie and Josh too! I texted Jamie a photo just after I pulled the tartlets out of the oven. She replied right away, “OMG, Yum!” I love cooking for people, but cooking great shit for other gluten-free people is the best!

• 

• 

There is no recipe for these tartlets. First, I make a quick gluten-free pie crust that takes me literally 5 minutes. Then I decide what I want to fill the tartlets with. Finally, I assemble the tartlets and pop them in the oven. My favorite ones are apple and sharp cheddar. I am one of those salty, sweet people who like cheddar on my apple pie. These are small, easy to eat bites and delicious!

I don’t always have time or the ambition to bake breakfast for the market, but it’s always a home run when I do! I can’t wait for breakfast at the market!

I looked at our weather here in Southern Vermont which looks great until Friday. The temps are forecasted to be in the low 60s during the day and down into the 30s at night. Next week, the daytime temps drop to the low 40s then dropping down to the 20s. It will be mid-November so that’s about right.

We pick out our Christmas tree and put it up the day after Thanksgiving. We also turn on the outdoor Christmas lights that evening. It’s a tradition Sam and I started about 6 years ago.

When I say we, I mean we pick out the tree and Sam helps me get into place in the tree stand. Then I am on my own. I decorate the tree myself because no one else wants to. That’s fine with me, I put on Christmas music, fix myself a poinsettia cocktail or two and take my time trimming the tree.

I have found since we started our business 4 years ago that I have to get things done when I can because I never know when the bottom is going to fall out is my week.

After production today, I decided to put away the front porch cushions, clean the front porch and put up the Christmas lights. Why already? I’d rather put them up with warm hands and a t-shirt on than freezing my butt off with numb hands.

It was a glorious day weather-wise, perfect for outdoor projects. Marty worked outside on the lawn, putting gas in the snowblower, filled the gas grill propane tank, and covered the outdoor kitchen equipment for the season.

The good news is all the lights were not a tangled mess, plus they all worked! I must have been careful last year when I took everything down and packed it away. Sometimes I even surprise myself! 😜

Time is flying by so fast its unbelievable. I am actually looking forward to the holidays this year, something I haven’t done in a long time. I loved the holidays when our boys were young. When they grew up it was such a big letdown when their Santa days were over and they no longer wanted to make dozens of Christmas cookies with me.

Marty and I loved picking out the perfect gifts for each boy and playing Santa Klaus on Christmas Eve. Our boys believed in Santa for a long time, we were so good at it that I had to tell both of them the “Magic of Santa Klaus” story. I didn’t want them to get made fun of for still believing or having some douchebag ruin the magic like what happened to me. Poor Noah got so upset that he said, “Oh, that sucks!” He’s a chip right off the old block, he’s is so much like me!

Of course, Sam said he knew it couldn’t be true because he would lie in bed on Christmas Eve doing mathematical equations trying to figure how Santa would have enough time to deliver gifts to everyone’s houses.🤣

I am looking forward to spending the holidays cooking up a storm, celebrating, and spending time with my grown-up family. I am super excited that my sister Jennifer is coming up to visit in between Christmas and New Year with her kids which is going to be a lot of fun.

I don’t feel like I am going to turn into the Grinch or the Winter Warlock this year. “I’m not really a mean and a despicable creature,” I just hated the holidays for the last ten years. This is so much better! ☺️

*** I took down the garland on the front porch…it looked to skimpy.

If the shoe fits, you buy it and wear it. This hoodie was screaming my name today when I was out shopping! I kinda love it! 💜

Yesterday, we were on the road all day making deliveries and setting up our winter vending booth at the indoor Troy Farmers Market. There is a gemstone and bead store that I adore on River Street, a place that I can always find what I “need.”

Since my mother’s passing two weeks ago, I’ve gone through many emotions. I wrote about the anger I felt right after death. 

Last week, those angry feelings shifted, leaving me weepy and sad. It took a few days to realize it wasn’t that I was mourning the loss of my mother, but sad because of the relationship we had. 

I tried my best for 50 years to be the best daughter I could be. I withstood verbal abuse along with relentless emotional torture. I was manipulated, used, and lied to…yet I still wanted to try to please her. I still loved her. I wanted to reach the unobtainable expectations set for me. 

I wanted just once to be introduced as her daughter, not her adopted daughter. It made me want to cry every time she did it. The few times I met someone before she did, she would always ask if I told them I was adopted. Why would I? Why was it important? Oh yeah, every time she told someone that I was adopted, they praised her like a saint.

Through meditation, I was guided to wear rose quartz close to my heart. I used rose quartz for the same purpose a few years ago when a friendship ended suddenly.

Rose quartz helps to heal a broken heart. It opens the heart chakra, releases emotional pain from trauma, helps with depression, and restores love and trust within yourself and others. Self-love, acceptance, and trust are a huge part of the healing process.

When I went into the gemstone and bead shop, I saw the owner who always helped me. I told her exactly what I needed. She quickly got out many different types of pink quartz pieces suitable to wear around my neck. Wearing rose quartz near your heart helps the healing process even quicker. If I cannot wear a necklace, I stick a rose quartz polished stone either down my bra or in a pocket.

I decided last night I wasn’t going to wallow in sadness and sorrow. I am done feeling sorry for myself. It is time to heal and put the past into the past. I thought about it like this; my mother is in paradise, and if I don’t start to heal and let it go, I will be living in my own personal hell.

Interestingly, when I decided to start wearing color again in the springtime, I gravitated to a soft pink color close to pink quartz. It started with my new eyeglasses, then a purse, a few new & second-hand tops, and scarves. I guess my instinct knew I needed this healing long before I realized it.

Cultures all over the world have been using gemstones for healing purposes in both ancient and modern times. If you are interested in gemstone and crystal healing there is endless information on the internet.

I suggest when you are purchasing gemstones and crystals you visit a shop in person. Picking up each stone or crystal helps guide you which one is right for you. I don’t recommend buying gemstones for healing purposes online; they are overpriced and not chosen specifically for you.

For the last couple of weeks, Marty and I, along with some of his close friends and family, helped pull off a magnificent celebration of life event for his wife and our friend, Eileen. 

Martin’s home is a gigantic historic home on the national registry, once a location where a babysitter looked after Abraham Lincoln’s grandchildren. 

The home has been undergoing a massive restoration done the right way. Once you start opening these old homes’ plaster and lath walls, you never know what you will find. In Martin’s case, he has had to redo all the plumbing and electrical in every room.

Each room was a construction zone of chaos, debris, and clutter. Since the invitations to the celebration of life were sent out, there was a deadline to whip the place into shape. Some rooms are still under construction, but they were presentable for a gathering.

Eventually, with the help of a small army, the house was ready for the celebration. Martin being a chef, planned an elegant luncheon for the 50+ guests. 

Marty and I were a part of a small kitchen crew that helped prepare the food. This is our comfort zone in the “back of the house” at any party or event. 

Our first task was to create a massive charcuterie board. When I asked Martin how he wanted it, he told me to do whatever I thought. Lots of pressure right there, folks.

Taking on the preparation of a food course at an important event for two classically trained chefs, Martin and his ex-wife Maureen made my heart beat harder for a minute. 

Martin and Maureen have a wonderful relationship despite their divorce. She came from Pennsylvania with her partner and killed it in the kitchen. She wanted Martin to mingle and enjoy the get-together celebrating Eileen, not working his ass off in the kitchen with us.

I looked at all the meats, cheeses, greenery, and carefully sliced smoked salmon that Martin provided and decided not to stress about it. Marty and I started working on filling the gigantic mirror display board. The mirror was huge, but the board began to come together almost on its own. 

Once Marty and I decided where to start, it went smoothly. When we stepped back to look at our display, we even surprised ourselves. 

Others were setting up large round tables with their linens and chairs around them. Some set up a bar. Others filled cannoli shells, cut pies, washed dishes, helped assemble salads. There was a lot to do, and it all got done in time. 

The celebration of life for my friend Eileen was done in Quaker fashion. Most people had never attended a Quaker “meeting” before and weren’t sure what to expect. Martin greeted the crowd and explained how a Quaker meeting works. 

Everyone sits in silence; then, when someone feels moved, they share a memory of the loved one. After the person is finished speaking, everyone is silent again, letting the memory resonate with everyone. 

It was touching and sad, along with laughter during people’s memories. I have much more to write about the beautiful friendship that I had with Eileen, but this will have to wait for another day. I can’t do it yet. These last two grief-filled weeks have been difficult enough dealing with my mother’s declining health and passing. 

I wanted to get up to speak but knew I wouldn’t be able to get the words out through my tears. Marty shared a funny memory about how we met the Sullivans, which I was grateful for. 

After the “meeting,” we raced to the bar, grabbed a glass of rośe champagne, and ran to the back of the house. We set up an outdoor kitchen the day before using our Oktoberfest cooking equipment, perfect for grilling off six big beef tenderloin filets and asparagus.

Chef Maureen checked in with us, and we knew exactly what to do. Marty gave the filets a good sear on our flattop grill then moved them to a gas grill to finish them off. The beef was done to a perfect medium-rare. Maureen let the beef rest before slicing it and placing it on gigantic platters.

My task of grilling the asparagus was fun. I filled my half of the flattop grill with asparagus that was simply coated in olive oil, salt & pepper. The asparagus came out wonderfully, the outsides grilled to a golden brown, crisp-tender in the middle. 

Being outside in the rain under our tent, grilling food, sipping champagne, and hanging out with a few people was fantastic. This was the perfect spot for us in the back of the house. Inside, it was hot and crowded with tons of people we didn’t know. 

The crowd loved our charcuterie board, followed by the menu of sliced filet mignon, Caesar salad, a seafood salad. Pasta salads were made with imported Italian macaroni and another with our spätzle as a gluten-free option. There were warm dinner rolls and, of course, the grilled asparagus. 

We ate in the kitchen, far away from the guests, along with the Patty Griffin work crew. We ate, laughed, and drank wine. We cracked up about how Martin was able to pull off such a successful celebration. 

The work crew we were a part of became good friends over the last two weeks. We’ve made plans to stay in touch and meet again after the holidays, this time just for friendship, laughs, more wine, and some great food. The only person missing was Eileen, even though I knew she was present looking down at all of us.

I didn’t have a spare moment to take any food photos besides the charcuterie board I took before the event began. My phone was tucked away on not disturb, and I didn’t remember to take pictures until everything was devoured. 🤦🏻‍♀️

After my father passed I learned about signs from heaven and always looked for signs from him. I found the usual ones that other people find; pennies & feathers. I used to be able to smell him as well; a combination of his cologne and newspapers. Weird I know. My oldest son Noah could smell it too when he was little.

I haven’t gotten any signs or messages from my dad until yesterday. I was getting into the delivery van and I found two pennies in a puddle in the parking lot of our distributor, Wilcox Ice Cream.

I reached into the puddle and picked up the pennies. I looked at the years on them which were 1973 & 1975. Those years don’t really represent any meanings, but nevertheless, they were both from the 70s making me think it could be a sign and not just random change that fell out of someone’s pockets. The way they were laying next to each other was another.

It took me a few minutes to make the connection…my dad always sent me one penny now he sent me two; representing him and my newly passed mother. It was his way of letting me know that she was with him. It made me feel better that she made a smooth transition to the other side.

I took my fathers death very hard, what helped me cope were the signs and smells he left me, which made me feel better. My new psychic abilities after his passing actually let me feel his energy around me. I knew it was him, no doubt in my mind. One day I saw his reflection in a glass door at the bank someone was opening. I couldn’t believe it. I started balling my eyes out, hoping no one would notice.

From the moment that my dad crossed over he immediately was able to connect with me. I haven’t felt or found any signs from my mother so far and may not for a very long time, if at all.

I am most certain these two pennies from heaven were a gift from my dad: his signs always make me feel better and at ease knowing he is still around me. I still miss him like crazy but glad he has Eileen keeping him company now.

I remember reading in a book that if you think that a certain song, penny or feather is a sign, it is. You should always acknowledge the sign since it is extremely hard work for the other side to make these signs possible.

Death is hard on the living so when a deceased loved one can offer the living a reassuring sign for comfort shows you that love doesn’t need human bodies…we are all beings of energy with a body or not.

Thanks daddy! ❤️

I’ve been on the fence about writing this piece or not. I asked Marty what he thought and he said, “Go for it.” So I am going for it…

Just when you think you are getting to know me, I share another part of myself with you. I mentioned in a blog post back in the springtime that I am gifted with psychic abilities. I work only in light; therefore called a lightworker and a healer. I don’t practice witchcraft.

Lightworkers are individuals who are healers in many different modalities. Lightworkers are people who feel an enormous pull to help others. Healers are people who use stories, humor, smudging, ceremonies, reiki, and balancing chakras & auras as methods of healing.

The other side of the veil opened up to me just before my father’s passing back in 2000. I didn’t know at the time that my Nana’s visit in my dream was what cracked open my psychic abilities.

I use my gifts to connect with and move on lost souls. Recently passed individuals have been able to send me a message to their loved ones just hours after their death. I cannot connect with individuals who had an easy journey crossing over to the other side, the other side of the veil.

Once I realized I had psychic gifts, I started doing my homework and began honing my craft. When I say I work in light I am working with Angels, Saints, and the Holy Family, also known as Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The most important being I always call in for help is God himself.

I know some of you are like, “She’s nuts.” Some may unsubscribe from my blog others may think it’s just a bunch of bullshit. That’s what I thought initially, so whenever I am working on a “project”, I tell another human what I see before so someone else will believe me when it’s over. Marty is usually my someone, and my reiki master Everley was another one.

When I say I connect and move on with lost souls, these are beings that haven’t crossed over and are stuck in the middle world. Most don’t even know they are dead or afraid of what may happen to them if they cross over.

I have “cleared” many lost souls out of old homes here in Vermont. I have my own method that works; I don’t know how else to explain it. As soon as a project is brought to my attention, I can connect with whoever needs my help. Some jobs are straightforward; some are difficult. I’ve been successful on every clearing I’ve done. I never accept money for house clearing as I am doing this for the lost souls benefit, not the current resident or homeowner.

I can write about lost souls for hours, so I am going to move on. I am also a reiki master and can clear & balance people’s chakras & auras. I have been successful with five past life regressions. I studied reiki with my reiki master, the other acts of healing came naturally and easily to me, primarily teaching myself.

I believe that every person or soul has a guardian angel. It’s more like a guardian angel, a spirit guide, and power animals. I have three spirit guides that I work with and watch over me, along with power animals.

What exactly is a power animal? Here is Dr. Steve Farmer’s definition:

“Power animals are spirit guides in animal form, valuable allies who can help you navigate through life’s challenges and transitions. You can turn to these perceptive and trustworthy oracles for advice and counsel on any questions or concerns, for they’re exceptional teachers who will help you learn about both the spirit and the natural world. Working with them on a regular basis will enhance your personal life and expand your spiritual capacities immensely.“

“Power animals can appear in meditations, visions, dreams, shamanic journeys, or on the earth in their physical form. They can be mammals, birds, or reptiles; and even so-called mythical creatures such as unicorns or dragons can be power animals, although they have no physical representations in the material world. However, since spirit animals’ power is drawn from their instinctual and wild nature, it’s uncommon for purely domesticated animals such as pets to be part of this group“

I connect with my power animals through meditation. Sometimes I can tune into them and sometimes not. I am pretty sure it’s not for me to choose when and whom I meet with.

Turtle is my number one power animal that never leaves me; he is always there. He is my power animal to teach me patience. I have a lot more patience now than I did before I started working with Turtle.

I’ve had Hawk as another power animal, sent to me to show me a hawk’s eye view of a situation. Hawk has no patience with me and gets angry when I don’t get what he is trying to show me. He calls me squaw.

I closed the veil to the other side when we started our business; it was too distracting. After a recent get-together with our friends, Arthur and David’s, I decided to reopen the veil. October is the best time for this to happen. It did.

The Friday before my mother passed, I told Marty that I connected with an owl. I had no idea what owl spirit wanted to teach or tell me. I looked it up and found out that owl symbolizes death. Not necessarily an actual death, but a symbol that occurs right before a big change. I joked and said I hoped it wasn’t literal; my mother passed on Wednesday night. Holy shit!

Yesterday I wasn’t expecting to meet up with any power animals. My meditation led me to a place I hadn’t been to before, a dry and barren place. I noticed something coming towards me; it was a snake. I am petrified of snakes, but I wasn’t afraid of this snake power animal. It slithered up my leg, around my torso, and sat on my shoulder. Snake told or showed me nothing; then was gone in a flash. It was up to me to find out the meaning.

I looked up the meaning of a snake power animal which means shedding skin and a significant change and transformation. It also represents healing, something I need desperately after my long and complicated relationship with my mother. I didn’t know this until snake appeared.

I shared this with Marty this morning over coffee, and he just nodded in agreement. You can do a few things with this blog post; believe it, don’t believe, or want to learn about more working with power animals and/or spirit guides.

There is so much information on the internet and in books. I learned by reading books, practicing, and working with gifted individuals.

I am hopeful for the healing to begin, shed my old skin, and transform into who I am supposed to be at this point in my life. Is it crazy? One can only judge that for themselves.

Everyone grieves in their own way, and now I know the emotions you experience can vary depending upon who you’ve lost and your relationship with the deceased.

The sad, sorrowful grieving over my mother began when she had her stroke eight years ago. I grieved more when I had to close up her apartment that she wouldn’t be able to return to. The phone call I received last Sunday afternoon had me grieving once more after the nurse called to tell me she was dying. 

The days leading up to her death left me in a puddle of tears, full of sadness. The moment after I walked into her room and found her dead, I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. 

When my father passed away 21 years, Marty and I made a promise to him when he was dying; we would look after and take care of my mother the best we could…we kept our promise to him no matter how difficult it was.

The sense of relief I felt after her passing was liberating, and I felt free from such a huge responsibility which was an enormous task over the years.

The sense of relief only lasted a few hours when my grief turned to anger. I couldn’t get out of my head all the terrible, mean, and rotten things I was put through for 50 years.

Thursday, l woke up angry and pissed off with all kinds of bad thoughts racing around my head and in my heart. I knew I couldn’t sit around feeling this way, especially with Marty’s severe back he was dealing with. 

The group of friends that our friend Martin took to the Patty Griffin show last weekend made a plan to get together for three days to help whip Martin’s home, which has been under construction for two years into shape, for the celebration of life next Saturday for his wife, Eileen who passed away in March 2020.

Martin’s house is gigantic, with every room and the outside property needing to be addressed. Room by room and floor by floor was cleaned, organized, and staged for a house full of people. 

The crew of us worked our asses off, having so much fun at the same time. There was music playing, lots of laughing & giggling going on while the house was slowly being transformed. 

Five o’clock signaled happy hour even though we all kept keep working. Wine was poured, and cocktails made. Delicious, simple, family-style meals were prepared. Everyone fell into their beds each night after a hard day of work. 

Martin’s niece Mousey and I hit it off the first time we met a couple of years ago and quickly became Lucy & Ethel whenever we got together. Mousey and I worked on the house together, laughing so hard at times my face hurt, and we both had tears running down our faces.

We ripped shit apart like he-men and loved it. We decluttered, scrubbed, polished, and hurled trash off the second-floor balcony. We threw a dresser that saw better days drawer by drawer over the balcony’s wall and watched them break apart when they hit the driveway. It felt great to break shit! Talk about a release!

When we got to the dresser itself, it was heavy for us; we got a good hold of it and swung it back and forth, counting to three before hurling it up into the air and seeing it break into pieces. We let out loud caveman-sounding growls then fell on the floor laughing. 

Just when my cheeks stopped hurting from laughing, Mousey had a mouse run across her foot, which is a funny statement in itself. She screamed, and I screamed louder with her jumping up on the toilet and me diving onto a random bench in the hall. Martin came up to check on us shaking his head in a “those silly kids” fashion. 

In the middle of all of this, Marty’s back pain got worse and worse. He finally decided to let me take him to the ER Friday afternoon. Marty is prone to kidney stones which we needed to rule out.

The best news was when he found out he didn’t have any kidney stones but a massive muscle spasm. A shot of lidocaine was injected into the muscle along with the knowledge of where the pain was coming from provided physical and mental relief. 

I needed these last few days more than I knew by helping a friend with other friends. I didn’t wallow in my grief; I wasn’t angry and didn’t have time to think. We just kicked ass.

Martin’s place is still far from being done, but the house is coming back to life and getting back to its former glory. Construction projects won’t be finished in their entirety before the event but will be acceptable enough for the gathering on Saturday. 

The out-of-state work crew has gone home; Marty and I will help Martin this week as much as we can. Another group is coming Wednesday, helping out with food prep and tying up loose ends. 

Martin needed his friend’s help, and I needed to help. I needed to laugh and break shit. I am in a much better frame of mind and ready to let go of those angry thoughts, moving on with my grief, hopefully finding peace soon.

My mother Eileen passed away last night. I went to visit her after dance class and she literally died 30 seconds before I walked into her room with the nurse. It was actually better that it happened this way instead of getting that final phone call.

Matt is a nurse who has been through the last eight years with me caring for and dealing with my mother. Miraculously, he was there last night since I was there alone. He was caring, warm, and compassionate; it really was like I was with an old friend. He was there for a there last night for a reason; I appreciate his kindness more than he will ever know.

So many amazing people cared for my mother over the last 8 years from nurses, LNAs, physical therapists, food service and housekeeping staff as well as social workers and office personal. I am forever grateful for all of these caring, wonderful people.

Now my parents are together again after 21 years. I hope she at peace; I am relieved that everything is over. It has been a long difficult journey; I am exhausted both emotionally and physically…I’m taking a few days off to take care of myself and recuperate.

Today is Marty and my 32nd wedding anniversary…I’ll write about that another time. It’s going to be more low key than normal given the circumstances and because is still having severe back pain.

Have a good rest of the week and thank you all for your kind words and support this week. Love & hugs 💕