Spring Break!

Where does the time go?  I just realized that I hadn’t written on my blog since January.  Now it’s April, although today it looks like January.  Dang it!  Happy last day of spring break!

I don’t really know why I haven’t written anything in the past 3 months.  I haven’t been especially busy or overwhelmed.  I’ve done a little sewing, a little cooking, a little housework, a little reading.  Nothing that would have kept me from writing for a long time.  Huh.  Whatever.  Onward and upward.

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I was looking forward to spring break for a number of reasons:  My pantry really needed to be cleaned and reorganized, a project that requires a large block of time.  Happily, I got it done and now I can walk in there and look around and be happy.  I anticipated making my spring purse, but I haven’t found any fabric that “talked” to me, so that was a no-go.  I planned to spend a lot of time at work, getting caught up and moving ahead, but that didn’t happen.  It will, though.

Instead of accomplishing those things, I got to spend some time with Rick’s dad and siblings, and some phone time and a little bit of real time with an old college friend who I don’t see often enough.  The reasons for these visits were unexpected.

Rick’s Aunt Lee passed away on Thursday last week.  She was 91 years old (I think that’s right) and had lived a long life.  We went to her funeral in Salt Lake on Tuesday and afterwards Rick and I were able to spend time with his family.  The funeral was nice and brought a feeling of peace and visiting with everyone afterwards was nice.

Last Friday, my dear friend from college, Joy, called and told me that her husband Sherm had died earlier that day.  It was completely unexpected and sudden.  Sherm was 55 years old.  He and Joy are one of those happy, fun-loving couples that we got together with every now and then and each time we were reminded of why we love spending time with them.  They are great people and we are so sad for Joy.

We went to Centerville for Sherm’s funeral on Wednesday.  It was one of those funerals that leaves you feeling uplifted and hopeful and sad, all at the same time.  I know Joy and her children and grandchildren will miss Sherm terribly, but they have wonderful, happy memories of him.  They have knowledge of the resurrection, and faith and hope that they will all be reunited someday.

I’m anxious to spend an afternoon with Joy in the near future.  She told me that since Sherm died their family has experienced miracles and tender mercies.  She’s already told me about a few of them, and I can’t wait to hear the rest.  Joy is a woman of great faith, and she will be OK.

I was talking to my friend Lori yesterday and telling her about Sherm’s funeral.  Lori’s husband died a year and a half ago, and we know several women around our age whose husbands have died during the last few years, leaving many young-ish widows.  Lori and I talked about the fact that I could very easily have been one of those women, but by the grace of God, Rick lived through his illness.  I don’t know why Rick got to live and so many other wonderful, great men didn’t, but it’s a blessing I remember and acknowledge and feel grateful for every single day.

And now spring break is coming to an end on this wintery, blustery, cold morning.  I didn’t accomplish most of what I intended, but I did fit in a lot of visiting and laughing and crying and riding around in the car. We also got to spend time with our grandbabies and we enjoyed watching General Conference.

As we prepare for Easter, I feel an overwhelming love for God and for the Savior and for their unending love and influence in our lives.  On Sunday, our ward choir will sing “He is Risen!” and I’m looking forward to that experience.  As the song says, “Let the whole wide earth rejoice.”

Really? I mean, Really?

Rick and I seem to be in a rather unfortunate, desperate situation around here.  Is Alzheimer’s contagious?  Because it appears that Rick is suffering from it also.

Here’s what Rick saw when he opened the cupboard this morning:

Yes.  That would be milk. Sitting in the cupboard.  It was warm.  We figure Rick must have put it there when he had breakfast yesterday.  We were all gone all day and went out last night, so no one used any glasses again until this morning.

I have to say, I laughed pretty hard that this happened to Rick and not to me.  I’m not the only one doing crazy things around here.  Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but I take some comfort in knowing I’m not alone. Sadly, my joy over this discovery only lasted a minute or two.

Richard (of all people!) said, “Mom, you should take a picture of that to put on Facebook!”.  And so I did.  And then I put my camera away and went back to eating my breakfast and making my grocery list.  And then Richard said, “Mom, aren’t you going to take the milk out of there now?”

Oh. Why yes.  I meant to do that.  So it seems clear that Richard is the only sane one among us.   Heaven help us all.  :)

New Year’s Eve Fun

I love New Year’s Eve!  Always have, always will.  As we were having our traditional New Year’s Eve dinner tonight, I started thinking about how I have celebrated the occasion over the years.  My memories/stories begin in 1953, even before I was born, but I’ve heard the story of that year so many times that it seems like it’s part of my own memory.

During the holiday season of 1953, two couples – Boyd and Zola, and Wayne and Jeanette – were planning a New Year’s Eve party.  Wayne worked with a friend, Karl, who was 47 years old and recently divorced.  He thought Karl should meet Leah, a 40-year-old single woman who was a childhood friend of Zola’s and Jeanette’s. So they invited both Karl and Leah to the party. It was going to be held at Zola and Boyd’s house in the Cottonwood area of Salt Lake.

Karl lived in Salt Lake at the time, so he had no trouble getting to the party.  Leah lived in Provo and started out in the late afternoon to drive to Salt Lake.  It was snowing, and by the time she got to the point of the mountain, it had become a blizzard.  She decided to turn around and go back to Provo.  By the time she had gone a few miles the weather had improved, so she turned back north.  Once she got to the point of the mountain it was a blizzard again, so she decided to give up and go home.  She turned around, and by the time she had gone just a few miles the snow stopped and the sky cleared, so she turned around one more time.  When she got to the point of the mountain, the blizzard had picked up again, but she decided to just barrel on through and get herself to the party.  

Six months later, on June 18, 1954, Karl and Leah were married.  Their son, Robert, was born on May 30, 1955, and I was born on November 15, 1956.  My mom was 43 when I was born and my dad was 50.  My mom had always figured she would be an “old maid”, and my dad had two step-sons and a young son and when his marriage ended he never imaged he’d have more children.  So when Robert and I came along they were thrilled!  We were both raised knowing that our parents treasured us and that they were so extremely grateful to have us.  

So back to New Year’s Eve.  Every year, my parents had a party with those same friends.  They rotated houses, but it was always with those 3 couples.  They would eat dinner and play games and stand in a circle at midnight, holding hands and swaying and singing along with “Auld Lang Syne” on the radio.  That is the only memory I have about how they celebrated New Year’s Eve.  Always the same people, always the same thing.  They did it every single year until New Year’s Eve of 1988.  When my mom died in the fall of 1989, they had celebrated 35 New Year’s Eves together.

When I was a teenager I did the normal teen things on New Year’s Eve – dates, movies, dances, etc.  The most memorable New Year’s Eve from that time of my life was 1973.  I had broken my back during an ice skating accident on December 28, and I was in Cottonwood Hospital on New Year’s Eve.  My boyfriend and I had planned to go to the movies to see “The Way We Were” for New Year’s Eve, but we ended up spending it together in my hospital room with some of our friends.

When I met Rick, he was in a band, and they had gigs every New Year’s Eve for several years.  Before we had kids I was a band groupie, and I would go to all his gigs with him.  I loved doing that!  It was so much fun to see Rick transform from quiet, shy, mild-mannered Rick into Rick the Rocker!  Happy memories!  I think that the only year he didn’t play with the band was 1979, when Richard was an infant and was recovering from his first open heart surgery in a hospital in San Francisco.  That year we left the hospital for a couple of hours and walked through Golden Gate Park to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

Once the babies started coming, I usually spent New Year’s Eve at home or at a friend’s house while Rick and the band played.  I didn’t mind doing that, because I would usually put the kids to bed early and work on a project that couldn’t be done when they were awake.  Several years I worked on sewing projects, and one year I spent the evening stenciling a design on my kitchen walls.  

After we moved to Cache Valley, Rick didn’t play in the band anymore, so we started a new celebration for our family based on the memories Rick had from his childhood.  His family always spent New Year’s Eve together, eating steak with sauteed mushrooms and homemade french fries and stewed tomatoes.  That is the tradition we’ve kept for most of the past 23 years.  We’ve added to the meal by having a bottle of sparkling cider, and in recent years we’ve added a wedge salad to the mix.  It’s a fun tradition.

So tonight’s dinner has just ended.  Rick is cleaning up as I write this post, and Richard is wandering between Rick in the kitchen and me in the dining room.  In a few minutes some friends will come over to play games or watch a movie, then bang lids with spoons to ring in the new year.  We should be soundly sleeping by about 12:15.  :)  

Here are a couple of pictures of tonight’s dinner:  ribeye steaks with mushrooms, Rick’s homemade french fries, wedge salad with homemade blue cheese dressing, stewed tomatoes, and a sparkling peach drink.  I realize it’s a heart attack in the making, but we think it’s worth it!  

Happy New Year!  

 

A Great Christmas Program

One of the highlights of the Christmas season for our family is Richard’s Christmas program.

Every Thursday evening, Richard goes to Special Needs Mutual, which is a scouting/activity/social night for people in our area who have special needs.  There are men and women, and they range in age from about 12 to 60-ish.  All of them have special needs of one kind or another.  They meet at an LDS church in Logan and have all sorts of classes and activities.  There are many volunteers who teach them and help them and drive them to mutual and home again.  We are so very thankful for those good people!

Tonight was the Christmas program, and it was wonderful, as always.  I wish I could adequately describe this program, but sometimes I can’t find the words to express my heart.  It’s just such a feel-good, know-that-God-loves-every-single-person kind of thing.

Richard was in the choir tonight.  He doesn’t actually sing, but he sits up there with everyone else.  He stands when they stand and sits when they sit. The choir seats were full.  I figured there were about 50 people with special needs who participated tonight.  Some of them read scriptures or poems or shared their feelings about Christ.  Some were dressed as shepherds with towels on their heads and others were dressed as angels, wearing tinsel halos.  Mary was confined to a wheelchair and held a really beautiful, life-like doll.  Joseph wandered in and out and waved to people.  Some of the angels came and went and one had a bit of a tantrum.  There was a young fellow who was part of the choir, but who waved his arm around to help the chorister lead the singing.  Every now and then he would stop leading so he could wave and smile at his parents.  And through it all, these sweet, innocent, wonderful people kept singing happily and energetically. Nothing throws them!

My favorite part every year is when they sing “Angels We Have Heard on High”.  It seems like every single person in the choir loves this hymn!  And when they open up on the chorus to sing, “Glo–o–o—o—o—o–o–o–o—o—o–o–o–o-r-i-a, with everyone pretty much doing their own thing, it can only be described as “a joyful noise”.  It brings me to tears every time because these people, so many of whom have very limited verbal skills, have found a way to express their love for God and because they do it so joyously and without inhibitions.  

I always leave Richard’s program filled with gratitude for the blessing of having Richard in our family and for the reminder that we are so lucky that he is a gentle, happy, loving soul.  Richard has his moments, of course, but he really is a good person without any guile.  He just loves everyone and assumes that everyone loves him.  It’s a good reminder for me, as we enjoy this wonderful season, to try harder to see the people in my life as God sees them, and to remember that we are all, indeed, His children.

I Feel Like an Old Woman Today

So here’s the deal: I’ve had problems with my left knee for many years. Arthritis mostly, but 3 or 4 years ago I had arthroscopic surgery to fix a messed up miniscus (no idea how to spell that), remove some crumbly cartilage, and straighten my kneecap. It helped for quite a while, but of course the arthritis is always there. Luckily the cartilage hasn’t worn thin enough to need a knee replacement.

However, a few days ago I started something new in that knee. Every now and then I get a pain that feels like there’s an ice pick sticking in my knee. Weird, I know. It’s happened 4 times over the past 5 days, and each time it has lasted about 20-30 minutes, then felt better for quite a while.

Until today, and that’s why I feel old right now. Just in time for my birthday! Hooray! My knee has felt normal (achy and creaky but not stabbing pain) since Friday night. But when I got home from work today, I stepped out of the car and almost fell down because the pain in my knee was so bad and it hasn’t let up. I hobbled my way into the house by leaning against the car and by pulling myself up the stair railing. Every time I take a step it makes me gasp, but if I’m sitting still or standing with my knee slightly bent it doesn’t hurt at all.

I had to go to the grocery store this afternoon. I took my cane with me and I found that if I walk with my knee bent it’s OK. But I look and feel like a hobbling monster. I hung onto the cart as I went around the store and that was OK. But anytime I forget that it hurts to straighten my knee I want to scream and then I go back to hobbling again.

As I was deciding what brand of bread to buy, I overheard a young fellow introducing a beautiful, white-haired, non-hobbling, petite little woman to a friend. He said, “This woman is amazing! She went skydiving for her 85th birthday!”

Really? 85??? Are you kidding? I couldn’t believe it! And? She went skydiving to celebrate! Here I am, about to turn 55, and I’m hobbling around Macey’s and this little old lady – who is 85, by the way – is skydiving!

And that’s why I feel like an old woman today. Bummer.

Why not?

Richard has been trying to micromanage me all day, but I haven’t given in and let him be too pester-ish. I can’t remember everything he harrassed me about, but here are a few:

“Mom, when are you making dinner?” “When we all feel hungry. Probably around 6:30.” “Why not now?”

I was juicing some grapefruits and oranges to make sorbet. “Mom, why not only oranges? No grapefruits?” “Because I want grapefruit/orange sorbet.” “Why not just orange? It would be better.”

I made peanut clusters a couple of days ago and a friend suggested trying it with cashews so I did that today. They are good, by the way. I was breaking up a big, thick chunk of dipping chocolate with a hammer and a screwdriver. “Mom, why not just break it apart with your hands? It would be better.”

I was using a small cookie scoop to put the clusters on a pan. “Mom, why not use a spoon instead? It would be better.”

I bought a DVD today of an old Christmas concert by Celtic Woman. I was watching a show on Food Network, and I planned to watch the DVD afterwards. “Mom. Why not watch your new DVD? It would be better.”

After the TV show ended I put the DVD on the TV I watch from the kitchen. “Mom. Why not use my big screen? It would be better.”

I was knitting a scarf using two strands of yarn and giant needles. “Mom. Why not use only one yarn? It would be better.” “Because it needs to have two colors. So two strands of yarn.” “Well, why not use little knitters? It would be better.”

Apparently everything I did today could have been better if only I’d followed Richard’s plan. Oh well. Maybe another day I’ll do everything his way. Yeah. Maybe not.

Lots of Stuff

It looks like the past month came and went!  I don’t know why I can’t keep up!  It seems like everything takes longer than I think it should.  Oh well.  So I guess I’ll write what HSF refers to as a random crap post.  Just a lot of stories from the past few weeks.  Here goes:

I finished my fall purse!  I love it.  I used the same pattern as I used for my most recent spring purse.  It took a while to make it because all the supporting layers are kind of thick in some areas and I broke two or three needles and messed up the bobbin a couple of times, but it’s all fixed up now.  Here are some pictures:

 

 

 

 

 

My favorite thing about it is that every time I open it I get surprised by the pink lining.  Well, not really surprised because I know it’s there (I put it there after all), but happy because it’s pink.  I also like the little buttons on the back.  Second picture, but kind of hard to see.  I also like that I can customize all my pockets to fit my particular stuff.

What else?  Oh yes.  Richard had cardiology check ups on Wednesday.  We left home around 8:45 and dropped in at McKay-Dee Hospital in Ogden to visit our friend Nicole who had a teeny little preemie baby a couple of weeks ago, then headed on down to the U of U Medical Center.  His echocardiogram took about an hour, which seems like a very long time in a small dark room.  Then we saw Dr. Green, who looks after Richard’s heart defect information.  His good news was that Richard’s heart function has not gone down-hill during the 6 months since his last check up.  Every little bit of time we can get before his next surgery is a bonus, so we were happy to know that part of his heart disease is OK.  After that we saw Dr. Akoum, who takes care of the arrhythmia part of Richard’s heart.  They interrogated his device and it didn’t show any episodes of rapid heart rate over the past 3 months, so that is also happy news.

The last thing I need to write about is family photos.  We don’t have them back yet, but when we get them I will put some on my blog.  But I’m afraid I’ll forget the funny parts of the story if I don’t write it down now.

Our photos were taken yesterday.  Richard had gone to Salt Lake for Special Olympics State Games on Friday, and ODD picked him up from there and brought him home.  HSF and the babies had already come up earlier in the day so we could all go to a fun activity at American Heritage Center.

I had bought a new shirt for Richard to wear for the pictures.  It was a red waffle-weave long-sleeved shirt.  He hated it.  I should have just let him wear what he wanted to wear, but I didn’t.  My bad.  Anyway, I doubt that we got many good pictures of him because he was not happy to be there.  He came home from State Games feeling weary.  He said he was too tired for pictures.  He said he was to achy from playing basketball for pictures.  He said he hates his shirt.  He said he is camera-shy.  He said he won’t smile.  Ok.  Fine.

I thought it would all work out because our friends Mark and Linda took the pictures and Richard happens to love Linda.  Richard hates to have his picture taken, but if Linda says, “Richard, stand next to Jeff” Richard smiles at Linda and stands next to Jeff.  At least that’s how it’s worked before.  Not this time.  Even Linda couldn’t jolly him out of his stubbornness and his bad mood.  He stood with us for the photos, but I don’t think he ever looked up.

At one point Mark took pictures of Richard and the grandbabies, which Richard thought was fun.  He put his arms around them and he might have looked up for a second during that.  He even smiled at that.  But my favorite moment came when Mark, who turns out to be an evil genius, was trying everything to get richard to just look up.  So he said, “Richard, I heard Karl Malone is going to play for the Jazz this  year!”  And guess what?  Richard looked up!  His expression was puzzled, but he was, in fact, looking up.  Can’t wait to see how the photos turn out.

So, as of now, at 8:15 on Sunday night, I’m thinking Richard might really have been right that he was too tired for family pictures.  He went to bed at 8:00 last night and he is still asleep!  That’s 24 hours.  I make him wake up every few hours to eat a little bit and drink some water, but then he goes right back to sleep.  It’s been a quiet, if worrisome day because he hasn’t had his TV or computer or DVD player  or IPOD going at all.  Weird.  It seems like going to State Games just wears him right out.  Sadly, I think he’s maybe attended his last one.  This has happened every time for the past 3 years, so it’s time to rethink this activity.  He loves going to State Games, but in his current heart-related condition, it’s too much.  Hope he’s perkier tomorrow.

 

Creatures

I know you should never laugh at your child, but sometimes you just have to, you know?

Richard said to me, “Mom.  I saw a show on The Creature Channel about snakes and did you know that when snakes get tired of their skin it gets dry and they just crawl out of it and then they get more?”

“Oh really?  Wow.  That’s amazing!” I said.  ”I didn’t know there was a TV channel called The Creature Channel.”

“It might not be called The Creature Channel.  But all the shows on that channel are about creatures.”

So now you know.

Talk about False Advertising!

I don’t eat spicy food.  Ever.  I buy extra mild salsa.  When I make salsa I use anaheim peppers instead of jalapenos.  I love the taste of spicy things, but not the burn.

A few days ago there was a gentleman at Macey’s giving out samples of a couple of Chinese chicken dishes.  He said that one was spicy and one was not too spicy.  For some reason, I decided to try the “not too spicy” one.  It tasted good.  I liked it.  And then my mouth caught on fire.  I explained to the man that his “not too spicy” chicken was, in fact, way too spicy for me and started to leave.  He said he could get me ingredients for a yummy dish that really truly was not spicy at all.  For some reason, I believed him.

So I left Macey’s with fresh, prebreaded chicken nuggets, an onion, a red pepper, and a jar of Panda Express Orange sauce.  I made it for dinner tonight.  I was hoping it would be incredible, because it was very easy, very quick, and not too expensive.

It smelled amazing.  It looked pretty.  And the first bite tasted great.  And so did the second.  And then I couldn’t tell anymore because my mouth and throat were burning.  And now my esophagus (big word, I know) is too and I’m probably going to have heartburn all night.

Next time I see that guy at Macey’s, I might have to call him Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire.  Just sayin’.

 

101 Lame Excuses for Not Having Written on My Blog Lately

Well, Hairyshoefairy got this fun, new, exciting blog up and running for me, and now I have failed for OVER A MONTH to use it!  Dumb, dumb, dumb!

I really intended to write once a week or so.  Really.  It’s summer, after all.  I’m not in school right now.  I have a few extra hours during the summer.  Sadly, I don’t always use those extra hours wisely.

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I don’t know how I did it, but i just managed to delete 3 paragraphs.  Damn!

Back to the story:

Right after my last post, I realized that the summer was 1/2 over and that it was time to get moving on our annual house project.  The project for this summer is to redecorate our bedroom.  It’s needed it for quite a few years, and this year it came to the top of the never-ending list of home improvements.

I decided that I wanted to try making an upholstered headboard, so I looked online and found some good, clear instructions and got busy.  It took a full afternoon, but I love how it turned out!  I can’t wait to put it up!  Someday!  But probably not anytime soon, sadly.

We decided that we needed to clear some, but not all, of the furniture out of the room, so we moved our bed downstairs.  It made sense at the time because:  1 – it was the middle of July and it was much cooler downstairs than upstairs, and 2 – we didn’t know what was coming our way.  More on that later…

We wallpapered our bedroom about 15 years ago, so I started the demolition by removing the old wallpaper.  The main parts and the border came off very easily, but the very bottom edge of the edge (about the bottom 1″) of every section stayed stuck on and would.not.budge.  I spent most of a week trying every possible way to get that wallpaper off, and slowly but surely picked off, piece by teeny piece, about 3 linear feet.

The next week came, and I spent the whole week preparing for Young Women’s camp, which was the following week.  I didn’t get any work done on the bedroom, but by the time we left for camp, I was ready!

My week at camp was fantastic!  (That was the week of August 1). I wish I had come straight home and written a whole post about it, while I could still remember the details.  But I didn’t.  We went to beautiful Heber Valley Girl’s Camp and it was a beautiful campground.  The girls in our ward behaved so wonderfully and EVERYONE had an amazing week.  We all came home excited and happy.

One of my worries when I was preparing for camp was that I have had a bit of a difficult time recently with my joints.  Back in May I injured my hip and it (thankfully) finally quit aching around the end of June.  My left knee, which had arthroscopic work done on it a few years ago, drives me crazy off and on, so I was worried about too much walking, hiking, and overuse.  Well, that, and wondering if it might give out on me and send me sprawling down the side of the mountain, young women gasping in amazement and laughter.  Happily, I was exceptionally careful the whole time and everything was just fine.  I felt great.

And then I got home.  Six hours after we returned from camp, I tripped as I was walking down the front porch steps, spraining my ankle.  My right one.  The ankle on the GOOD leg.  At first it didn’t hurt too bad, so we took Richard to a Special Olympics picnic, then went to see a movie. About 1/2 way through the movie I realized that my ankle had become a cankle so I tried to elevate it.  At the end of the movie I couldn’t put any weight on it at all, so we decided to go to the ER.

How does a person, who is a big girl and who can’t put any weight on her leg, get out of the theater and into the car, you might wonder.  Here’s how good old Rick solved the problem:  He got one of the giant movie theater rolling garbage cans and helped me use it as a walker.   He’s so nice!  I hope that journey was not recorded on somebody’s hidden security camera…

Anyway, at the ER I had x-rays and nothing was broken, so they fit me with a giant, heavy black strap-on boot and told me to see my doctor in a few days.  I saw him on Monday and he said to wear the boot for a couple of weeks and it should heal up.  I’m grateful to say that I went back to the doctor today and my ankle has, indeed, healed.  I can walk around without a boot or a cane and I feel human again.  That boot really got in the way!

So, let’s see.  Ah, yes.  Well, it’s really hard to get around with a giant boot and a cane in a crowded room that needs to have the wallpaper peeled off, so I just worked on it in bits and pieces that week.  I was a little crabby because my ankle was still hurting, and my bad knee was taking the brunt of not being able to use my good leg, and oh!  By the way!  Do you remember where my bed was at that time?  Downstairs.  Not good.  So I took to sleeping on the couch in the living room.  Comfortable, but not my bed.  Oh well.

I made up my mind that at the beginning of the following week,  which was August 15, I would work really hard on the room for the first three days, then spend Wednesday evening through Saturday evening in Salt Lake with HSF’s family.  Of course, you might guess, I woke up Monday morning with a pretty severe case of flu.  From that day until this, it has travelled from my lungs into my bronchial tubes, then on to my throat, and then on to my sinuses, where it seems to have taken up permanent residence.  I started on antibiotics last Thursday or Friday, and I am much better, but I’m wondering if I need another round as my teeth still ache and my face still hurts.  No matter.

I’m up.  I’m functioning.  And when I’m not coughing up who-knows-what, I’m getting a few things done.  It is August 22, and I finished peeling off the rest of the wallpaper today.  Hooray for me!  I washed the walls and painted my paint samples in a few spots so I can decide which colors to use.  I was hoping to get the new carpet laid this week, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be ready, so I will reschedule that for next week.  We may finish this project yet!

And that is why I haven’t written anything on my blog lately.