Dec. 26th

Oh the pressure!!

I got an AWESOME camera for Christmas.  I mean the kind of camera you can mess with and make artsy fartsy photos.  I haven't had one of these since my darkroom days.  I knew this before, but I need to say this again - digital ROCKS.  At least when I studied the manual today, I could take some photos and knew to a certain degree what I did wrong or right.  Back in the day, you would set your f-stop and shutter speed and hope for the best.  When you developed your film a week later, you completely forgot what your settings were for that incredibly good or bad photo, and started all over again.  So now, the pressure in on to produce really good photos.  These are my favorite inside and outside shots after having the camera for 24 hours.  They just happen to be photos of 2 of my favorite people as well.

And then there are the pasta maker attachments I got for my monster Kitchen Aid mixer!  I mentioned a couple of times that I wanted to try to make my own pasta.  I know fresh is better, and you can make "flavored" pasta too.  Well, now it's time to pony up and actually do it.  The pressure!  AUGH!!!

So, I will update this when I get to the next level of ...  everything.  Wish me luck.

The Pioneer Woman, I am Not

So there is this awesome woman who has this incredible web site - www.thepioneerwoman.com.  Nobody can match her.  If you go to her web site and just sit for a moment in her awesomeness, it will make you feel wonderful and completely inept at the same time.  She is the perfect wife and mother and her cookies look like they are straight from the pages of a cookbook.  Mine, well, not so much.  Her gingerbread men are not modeled after Derrick Rose (star of the Chicago Bulls) and Brian Urlacher (of the Chicago Bears, DUH!), or after being bagged for a week, have been broken to the point where they have to be iced with  "OH MY GOSH!" faces on them, looking at their missing extremities.  In the midst of icing the gingerbread cookies, John made me a Bailey's chocolate martini, and it got even weirder.  Gingerbread women in bikinis and men in Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses.  Then, I exclaimed that "My bag broke!!" meaning the bag I was using to ice said cookies had burst.  But John, watching football in the next room yelled, "The last time you said that, we came home with Jim 2 days later!" 

 Funny.  Really.

So here are my not-good photos of my butter and gingerbread fiascos, and the train wreck of a kitchen that followed.  

Merry Christmas!!

the kids are alright

My kids are both home from college for the holidays as of this afternoon.

I am OK with being an empty nester, I really am.  I hate that John is gone so much with work, but Lily and Caz keep me pretty occupied.  I'm just surprised at the calmness I feel now that the kids are home.

I wasn't worried about Jim driving home.  It's a long trip, but he's a very good driver.  He apparently hit a falcon on the way home that swooped down out of nowhere, but Jim is fine.  The falcon - not so much.  We see Hannah quite often because her school is much closer.  I don't know...  it's just a really odd feeling.  It's a warm fuzzy.  I'm at peace.  I guess that doesn't happen enough for me to recognize the feeling.  Or I'm so stressed out about something else that I don't let myself feel it.  Sad, but true.

Maybe it's because I see them as adults now.  They are moving on, building their own lives, and it's all done without me and John.  When they come home, they are my kids again.  I loved them when they were little, but to see what they are developing into as adults is an incredible thing for me.

It will be better when John gets home tomorrow.  Then, it's all good.  Let the holidays begin!

If this is the feeling I get every year, seeing my kids for the holidays or whenever, then it's all good.  I don't care if we celebrate Christmas in July, as long as I get to be with them.  They are pretty darn nice people to be around.  

little surprises.

So.  If you've been reading this blog or know me, you know I'm having issues with being alone.  The kids are at college and John is traveling more than he ever has.  You are also aware that I have two blood thirsty pugs to guard me and the house.  But, last week when John was gone, some goon took the wreath off the front or our house.

I admit, it was a little weird for me.  I filed a "citizen's complaint" with the city and requested that patrols be beefed up a little in my neighborhood.  (The mother of a woman I work with lives around the corner and had her wreath stolen too!  The nerve!!)

But then, just as I was feeling all green and Grinchy, some people did something that made my heart grow "three sizes" today.  5 lovely ladies I work with, bought me a new, beautiful wreath and had it delivered to work today.  The card only read, "Ho, ho, ho!  Put a padlock on this one!"  They watched as I tried to figure out who would have done such a wonderful thing - and put on academy award winning performances for not knowing anything about it.  Then, they fessed up.  And I got all teary eyed.

Some people just come through for you in the not-so-smallest of ways.  And make your whole holiday.

Thank you guys.  You're the best.

One of the seven deadly sins - update

http://www.pantagraph.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_a7fc6b36-03ca-11e0-a4dc-001cc4c002e0.html


I originally posted this back in July, but because sentences have finally been handed down, I felt the need to repost.  Read on, and I'll tack something more on the backside...

I've been thinking a lot about pride lately.  If one "deadly sin" can be worse than another, I think this is it.  

For 2 1/2 years, I was a purchasing manager for a manufacturing company, Wildwood Industries.  I was very grateful for the job. I had taken a long career break to raise two kids and this was my way back in.  I had procurement positions in the past, but that was prior to having children, when I could work late, go to dinner with suppliers and go in on Saturdays.  Purchasing is not the easy job some people think it is.  It might not be the same pressure that sales people experience (as John has shown me over the years), but you are constantly striving to get better materials, at cheaper prices, at precisely the moment they are needed.  The thing I always loved and hated about purchasing is that every cent you save, goes straight to the company's bottom line.  Salesmen (sorry, John) can't say that.

So back to the pride thing.  The company I worked for was a privately owned company and it was ruled with an iron fist.  There was a production meeting every day, and while it was nice to have some of the pressure of making decisions removed, it completely sucked to sit by and watch the wrong decisions being made on behalf of my department.  And let me tell you, there were plenty of bad decisions made.  And I believe all of those decisions were made because of shear pride.

Pride veiled everything for Gary, the owner of the company.  I don't know what happened in the early years of the company, but the last years were very ugly.  Delivery was everything.  It didn't matter what it took or how much it cost - we did not miss a delivery.  I often wondered how we ever made a profit, with all the costly hoops we had to jump through to make some deadlines.  I was not privy to sales contract negotiations, but one of our biggest customers was Wal-Mart.  If you know anything about Wal-Mart, you know they beat their suppliers to a pulp, buy from China and wave the American flag while doing it.  But, Gary was very proud of the fact that he supplied America's biggest retailer along with some of their biggest competitors, even though Wal-Mart bankrupted much bigger players.  He was proud of the fact that he employed entire families.  He was proud that he did little things for his employees, like buy them breakfast or lunch once in a while. He lent them money.  He was proud that he had an elaborate Christmas party every year.  He had an RV that was mostly used by the female officers of the company, to travel to Chicago for Christmas shopping trips and by certain employees to go to NASCAR races. He had a company jet - even though he rarely used it himself and constantly offered it to nearby college sports teams to fly to away games.  He gave a very generous donation to a cause that is very near and dear to my heart.  His name is on the wall at Central Catholic High School, as one of their top tier contributors for the newly constructed building.

Where people thankful of Gary's generosity?  Heck yeah.  Was that generosity given for the right reasons? Probably not.

And every time his company got too deep in debt with a supplier, I was instructed to find another.  Be done with the past; be a big shot to a new guy.

I believe that this pride is what brought Gary down.  I honestly think he would do anything to save face.  At some point he got in too deep, a scheme was born to get through it, but no plan was ever made to STAY out of it.  He devised a ponsi scheme of machinery to keep the pride going, and it didn't stop until he was forced into bankruptcy - after being in business or  25+ years.

So now, I try to stay reminded every day of how far, how deep and how wide pride can go; where it can start and how it can become a monster; how you can fudge on something and end up in jail for fraud to the tune of $250 million.  I think most people doubt you can get from point A to point B through just hanging onto your pride.  I truly believe Gary did, and the ramifications stretch well past whatever generosity he ever extended.

So now, everyone has been sentenced and due to start serving in January.  Nice to have one last Christmas at home, I guess.  

Gary, the owner got 15 years.  I am struggling with the fact that because of his failing heath, he will serve his time in a prison close to Mayo Clinic  - and receive better healthcare than half of the people living in America.  I read all the article comments on line and the people defending Gary keep yelling, "But he did it to SAVE the business!"  Like he's some wonderful person to try to save the jobs of 700 people!  No - he is a prideful, spiteful, manipulative shell of a man who was only looking out for himself.  The business would never need saving if he had not run it the way he did.  Would people in general be better off if he had gone under 10 years ago when this whole thing started?  I think so.  And it didn't matter that his son quit the business because he didn't agree with the way things were being run.  It didn't matter that he didn't have a mansion.  He was a pillar in the community and looked up to by hundreds of people for his humble ways and his generosity.  That's all that mattered.

His wife was sentenced to 7 years.  She knew what was going on, but I really don't know what to think about her.  She said in court that she considered divorcing her husband at one point because of what was going on with the business.  THAT, I do not believe.  She's a Catholic and values her family too much to break it apart.  

Dominic, the plant manager received 7 years.  I don't think Gary could have done what he did without Dominic.  Enough said there.  

And Kim.  She only got 40 months. She made my short time there a very difficult one.  Trying to get vendors paid was a full time job there and she had no problem lying to me or anyone else looking for a check.  The check was in the mail, or must have gotten lost in the mail, or - my favorite - the check went out and was received only to have a stop payment slapped on it.  I guess I should be thankful for her lies now and I'm glad I was not part of that little inner circle.  

It's just really weird to be this close to something of this magnitude.  

30 years ago today

Can't believe it's been 30 years since John Lennon was shot.  I know I should remember where I was when I heard the news, but I don't.  But I was a freshman in college and I remember thinking, why?  Why on earth would anyone harm HIM of all people?  

I took this photo when John and I went to New York the summer before last, to celebrate our 25th anniversary.  I'm sure Strawberry Fields in Central Park is a crowded, solemn place this evening.   I'm very thankful for the way New York City remembered him.  Just to be there borders on a slight spiritual experience.  It's just peaceful there.  I'm sure John would have approved.

Finally...

I finally have the holiday spirit, even though I baked ALL DAY on Sunday and half of my cookies/truffles flopped.  I used "mild flavor" molasses in my gingerbread cookies.  Note to self - NEVER AGAIN!  They turn out rather bland.

Anyway, this year on the cookie menu, will be:

Gingerbread cookies - the GOOD ones with lots of flavor, iced and decorated by my art student daughter (no pressure, Hannah!!)
Super-Duper Chocolate cookies - an old family favorite
Mint Meringue - or "mint puffies" to my kids...  melt in your mouth and the only low fat Christmas cookie around
Kentucky Bourbon balls - new experiment this year... you soak the nuts overnight.  That gave John lots of fodder for his customers...
Press Butter cookies - a batch of cookies made with a full pound of butter can't be bad
Frangelico truffles - another experiment...   we'll see...
Oreo balls - or "Oreo Truffes" as they are refered to on line. Yeah right.  They are still BALLS and they are still everyone's favorite.

I sort of stopped baking for a few years.  When the kids were little and I wasn't working full time,  I baked Christmas cookies like no other.  I guess now that they are "gone" and off to college, I'm feeling nostalgic and want to bake again.  So the people I work with will benefit or be the victim  my experiments.  Something tells me that either way, they are happy.

Bodeans

We saw the Bodeans tonight.  If you don't know about them you should. They are an awesome band, and I've been listening to them for over 20 years,

I'm not intranets savvy enough to include music to this blog, so do it yourself. It's worth it.

The prayer around my neck

I have a necklace that has a charm on it that is a prayer “box.” Mine is cylinder shaped like this one, but the idea is the same.

You put a prayer in it and it is supposed to remind you to talk to The Big Guy every now and then. I’ve had my prayer charm for about 10 years. I think I got it when the kids were in grade school, and I haven’t opened it to actually look at the prayer in about as many years. There was a prayer that came with the charm, written on a little slip of paper, but it reads a little broad and generic. So I wrote my own on the back. It’s probably generic as well, but at least it’s my own.


“Dear Lord, merciful Father – grant me and my family the gift of discernment and give us the strength and courage to go where you lead us. Help us to see and hear you more clearly each day. Open our hearts to your will, and free us from the burden of worry. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

I thought about this all day, and in some way, it pretty much covers everything - at least for me.  Everything that happens to us "leads" us to or away from somewhere, something or someone.  And that worry thing.  That's a biggie for us moms.  Hard to get free of something we have practically perfected.

But I will try to remember and take to heart the prayer that I occasionally where next to mine. 

Life

Life.  Is.  Hard.

The absolute, most gut wrenching thing for a parent, is to watch their children experience this.  It's one thing for me to go through a rough time, but seeing my children go through it takes it to a whole new level of anxiety and worry - for me.  Heck, for all I know, they could unload on me, feel better about things, and then go on their merry way and not think anything about their cares and troubles - that somehow, they are all transferred to me.  But I know that's not always the case.  Umm Katelynn?  You think it's hard now?  It's just as hard - but different.  It's emotional.  What's harder?  I really don't know.

Hannah will probably get mad at me for putting this out there, but her and her boyfriend broke it off this weekend.  I like The Boy, I really do. But what are the odds of ANY high school relationship making it, let alone a long distance one?  The fact that the chances are very slim doesn't make things any easier for anyone.  It can happen, but it takes a lot of work.

One of my ultimate gifts on my Christmas list,  this and every year - I want my kids to be happy with their choices and to share their lives with the right person.

However many years down the road, I look forward to welcoming new people into our family.  Until then, I wish everyone a good, not-too-rocky journey.

9:57 November 23

I'm tired.  Got off work early (3:15ish), came home and started cooking.  Had Chinese take-out for dinner.  Jim got home safe.  Hannah went to get her hair done (cut and colored) and then off to a church youth group, college reunion thing.  Thanksgiving tomorrow, and half of the cooking is done.  I will get up at 6:00 to start preparing.  I want everything to be as good as it can be for the people I love and am thankful for - those that will be dining with us, and those that won't.

Well there you go.

It had to happen sooner or later and of course, Walmart had to be the one to do it.  Screw Thanksgiving and families spending quality time together!  There are credit cards to be maxed out.

Walmart is going to be open all day on Thanksgiving.  Anyone who knows me, knows my loathing for the Waltons and everything they have "brought" to our economy.  (If you're not familiar with my rant on this topic, let me know.  I'd be happy to share my views on the many ways Walmart sucks.)  Granted, I already hate the whole Black Friday concept, so this is just a cherry on top.  You would think that being a marketing major in college, I would embrace any new idea to make a buck, but because it tramples all over a holiday to give thanks to God for everything we are blessed with  - it just makes my skin crawl.  Here is a company where it's employees already have to have more than one job to make ends meet, and they are taking away the few hours they could have to spend with family and friends.

They fund studies on everything from the sex habits of spiders to what causes hair to fall out of a middle aged man's head.  I want a study done on what Walmart and other companies following their business model have done to this country and the people that live in it.  I promise the "middle America" that Walmart caters to are the same folks it is screwing over in the long run.

Random Thoughts, holiday edition, round II

I just re-read what I previously wrote, and I think I come off a little harsh.  I like buying gifts for people I love!  I love showing people I really care about them!  I think I'm just jaded into thinking that some people equate the number of dollars spent on a person = how much you love them.  Not so.

Have you ever given anyone a gift and you just knew you nailed it - that it was the best thing in the whole world you were ever capable of giving them?  What a feeling.  It is a rare thing, let me tell you.  I think the closest I came was when I stole Mom and Dad's 8mm home movies and had them converted to VHS (yes, this was a while ago...).  I just knew they would get a real kick out of it.  It was personal.  And it was good.    And the time I gave my Aunt Sis a little box I made in 4-H camp.  I slaved over that thing and was so proud when I gave it to her.  She loved it - or pretended to.  Doesn't matter, because I gave her my all.  Who wouldn't appreciate that from anyone?

If you haven't guessed, I'm working through all my holiday issues right here and now.  On line?  A little weird maybe, but whatever.  Holidays have certainly changed for me over the years.  Mom and Dad left this earth much too early, and my holidays haven't been the same since.  So I try to imitate my experiences with them - low key holidays (never on THE holiday - too much stress there) where everyone came together (on a day that was more convenient than the actual holiday) and was just allowed to...  be.

That's what I want my matriarchal legacy to be - that everyone gets together around the celebrated holiday and is able to enjoy each other's company.  Well, as much as family can. :-)

Random thoughts, holiday edition

Thanksgiving is in less than two weeks.  TWO WEEKS!!!  Do you know what that means?  That means Christmas is right around the corner.  Christmas = work, and lots of it.  I'm just not up to it anymore.  When I wasn't working and I was home with the kids, I loved decorating, baking, buying gifts...  Now that I'm working what seems more than full time, I'm just too worn out for all that.  Plus, I have to send all the cards and buy all the gifts for our customers at work.  I'm too spent to do it at home too.

Christmas cards have been permanently axed from the Krajewski Christmas to-do list.  If I care about you, 1)I'm probably facebook friends with you and you know all about my life anyway 2) I'll call you or contact you in some way that doesn't require me to buy a boxed set of cards and 3) Well, there really is no 3.  I'm not an uncaring, unfeeling person - I just don't want to do the card thing anymore.

If I were Queen of the World, this is the way my holidays would be:
Thanksgiving would be pretty must what it is now.  Love cooking.  Love family.  Love football and napping.  I thank God for everything I have and everyone in my life.  What's there not to like?
Christmas would be VERY different.  From what I understand, I would have liked Christmas circa 1880s.  There would be very little decorating - no lights!  Gift giving?  I don't think there was any.  I think kids were happy to get an orange.  Families went to church to celebrate the birth of Christ.  Imagine that.  That's what I want.  Much less gift giving and much more Jesus.  I am not a holy-roller for saying this.  I'm a realist. Christmas is a holiday celebrating the birth of our Lord and Savior.  What you can save at Target on an ipod has nothing to do with it.  Deal with it.

If you didn't get it by now, I have a deep seeded problem with people that have no interest what-so-ever in the birth of Christ, but are full-tilt into the whole Christmas buying/decorating frenzy.  Pick a lane.

But I have issues with that as well!  If you believe in Christ, and are into the Christmas thing, then do you really want to go out an buy a whole bunch of needless stuff for people?  Isn't that against everything Jesus taught?  Or do you want to volunteer at a soup kitchen or buy things for a family in need?

Anyway, that's it for now.  I'm sure I will have many more holiday thoughts, musings and threats as the days progress.  Stay tuned?

I want to go back

Earthquake, hurricanes, cholera - and I still want to go back to Haiti.

The November team arrived on Monday.  Please, pray for them.

Youth is wasted on the young

This saying means more to me every single day.  If you remember the movie "Peggy Sue Got Married" A) you're old and B) you get it and C) the outcome probably wouldn't be that different given any choices.  Peggy Sue got pregnant and had to marry her high school sweetheart.  But traveling back from the future, she knew what she was getting into, knew that pantyhose were on the horizon and fashioned some of her own, and still opted for the path that she had originally taken. BUT - there was a daughter involved.  IF she had not made what more than some would consider bad choices in her high school life, she would not have the awesome daughter that she did.  Well who wouldn't opt for being "bad" in that case?

But I'm talking about my life.

I did not get pregnant in college, thank you very much.  Nothing against anyone who did.

It's just that things are SO incredibly different looking back.  That guy I briefly dated in high school wasn't an asshole - he was incredibly shy.  The guy I dated for a long time - I didn't really know.  That guy that was SO sweet to me every day?  I'm sorry - you were more like my brother than my prom date - I couldn't get past that.  People don't all grow up in a farm house, on a dead end gravel road with the ideal parents.  There are black people?  Where?  Not in Warren County!  (Not that it was ever an issue, I just felt the need to throw it in there.)

I think about what my kids have experienced in high school and so far in college.  It is different than what I can relate to, and I respect that.  But so often, I want them to see things through my eyes, with my experience, with my knowledge.

They will know what I'm talking about someday.

All Saints Day

Today is All Saints Day.  At church this morning, the congregation remembered friends and family that have passed away this year.  Watching the slide show of photos, it's always rough for those who lost someone very dear to them.  It's rough for people that have been in their shoes too.  Seeing that raw emotion brings everything back to the surface again - hard and fast.  I feel for them all, and they will remain in my prayers.  

And since Hannah had a dream last night that I died and she was speaking at my funeral, I thought I should share one of the songs I want played at that time.  This one always gets to me.

Be Thou My Vision

Written by Mary E. Byrne & Eleanor Hull

Be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me, save that thou art
Thou my best thought, by day or by night
Waking or sleeping, thy presence my light

Be thou my wisdom and thou my true word
I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord
Thou my great Father, and I thy true son
Thou in my dwelling, and I with thee one

Riches I need not, nor man's empty praise
Thou mine inheritance, now and always
Thou and thou only, first in my heart
High King of heaven, my treasure thou art

High King of heaven, my victory won
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's sun
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, O ruler of all

Vote

I had a doctor appointment this morning.  The waiting room is poorly designed, because sitting in a certain area allows a patient to hear everything said at the reception desk.  Sitting there for more than 30 minutes, I heard people spell their last name, confirm their addresses and  phone numbers, give insurance information…  It was a little creepy.  I certainly didn’t need to hear all of that and I suspect someone is going to abuse that information if they haven’t already.

At one point, the two receptionists had a break and started chatting.  One shared with the other that she would probably not vote today.  She didn’t see the point.  “One candidate is just as crooked as the other, so I usually don’t bother with these elections.  I’ll vote for the next president.”

Really?

Do they realize people died so that they could have the right - the privilege - to vote? Do they realize the power of numbers?  That the vote they consider worthless, when put together with other votes, speaks volumes on all levels of government?  They are so passive, that they don't care what happens in the country they live in?  In their community?  How many Americans have become that lazy?

If you don't vote in every election, never ever complain to me about the leadership of your town, your county, your state or your country - because you never spoke up when it counted.

I hope you voted today.  If you didn't - please do so next time.  And think about what it's like to live in a country where you can't.


(Unless, of course, you were going to vote for Bill Brady for Illinois governor.  Then I thank you for staying home.)

Sunday, bloody Sunday

What is it about Sunday evening?  Why are they so depressing?  When John and I were dating, I still had that extra semester at Purdue and he was working at the Zenith credit union and going to law school.  I would go up for the weekend - taking whoever I could carry from the ride board at Purdue to the northwest suburbs of Chicago.  I would stay with John and his folks until Monday morning because I didn't have a class until Monday afternoon.  I don't know why I stayed Sunday night because all I did was cry.  Seriously.  It was awful.  And John, bless his heart, for whatever reason, understood.

So for my kids and whoever else is out there, I get Sunday nights, but I will never understand it. Whether it's bracing yourself for a new week or something deeper than that, I feel your pain.

The anticipation is always worse than the thing itself.

But I can guarantee, it will be better - eventually.

Sunset Gap

This plea went out from our church about Sunset Gap - a place in Tennessee that is near and dear to our collective hearts.  Our adults and youth group go there once a year for work trips, and our church supports them financially throughout the year.  Please help, if you can. Check them out - http://www.sunsetgap.org/
They have done some AMAZING things for that community.




Today, Chris Ayers received a call from Josh Dunn, the executive director of
Sunset Gap in Cosby Tennessee.  The Sunset Gap board of directors has called
an emergency meeting for this Saturday, October 23, to decide if they can
keep the ministry going.  Because donations have decreased considerably,
they are basically out of money and can no longer meet their expenses.

Sunset Gap continues to be a blessing to many of us at RLC.  Lives have been
changed for adults and students on our many servant trips.  This doesn't
begin to measure the importance of the Gap's ministry to the Cosby area.  We
can't imagine what a loss this would be for them.  

If you would be like to make a donation to Sunset Gap to help keep this
ministry alive, please make a check payable to the Sunset Gap Community
Center.  

I'm antsy

I can't sit still these days.  Maybe it's the change of seasons.  I would appreciate autumn A LOT more if winter didn't follow it.  Not a fan of the winter.  But I love the October transition from the grill to the oven, baseball to football (and of course, tailgating), the bonfires, the whole cocooning with hot cocoa thing...

We've been so busy with things lately I haven't had a chance to go for a walk and enjoy the colors of the season.  The last time I sat in the backyard with a fire was a few weekends ago with Hannah and her friends.  I want the world to basically stop for 24 hours so I can go for a walk, look at the trees in full autumn color and be a peace with the ice and snow that are about to descend on us.

Maybe it has to do with being by myself too.  John is out of town, Jim and Hannah are at school.  (For anyone reading this who wants to break into our house, please remember our two blood-thirsty pugs who will rip your liver out the minute you hit our fur-dust-bunny covered floor and our retired, very nosey neighbors who have 9-1-1 already programed into their attached to the wall, corded phone.)  I don't know.  I'm just not comfortable in my own skin these days.  Weird place to be.

But I am at peace with my God, as they say.  I am at peace with my family, as far as I know.  Everything else is up for grabs.  I'm leaving myself open to opportunities, whatever that means.  I have faith that I am where He wants me to be - I just can't see why, and therein lies the struggle.

I have seen God work what I consider miracles.  Who wouldn't trust what could do that?

Ugh.

I seem to be struggling with so much lately...  everyone who knows us would think I would be pinning over the fact that we are now empty nesters.  But 1) The Girl has been home so much it hardly seems like she's gone and 2) there is so much other BS going on, I hardly have time to notice.

I work for a commodities brokerage firm.  If you didn't notice - and why should you??!! - corn, beans and sometimes wheat were up the limit last Friday.  That basically made life hell for us people in the trenches that have to sort everything out.  The markets have been up every day since then, which means our lives are still hell.

Don't get me wrong - I love talking to our customers.  They are so unique, they can't be described.  But there is the one who cracks me up every single time he calls (he is so slow, you'd think he was going backwards); the one who is in such a hurry I would hate to see him drive a car; the one who gives me the same order in the same way every singe time; the one who starts his order with, "hey, in our *** account, sell me...."; the one who says, "this is ____ from _____.  I want to sell some stuff;" the one who never knows what he wants to do before he calls, and the one who loves giving market orders JUST before the close at 1:15.  I love them all, I really do.  It's all the other BS that goes along with the job that is either going to make me postal or catatonic.  I haven't yet determined which way it's going.

And there are all the office politics.  Picture yourself in a bullpin of 40+ people...  with A LOT of "extreme personalities."  Sometimes, it's not a pretty thing.  Why, I think a sitcom is in this somewhere.  If they have "Outsourced"  they can have "Futures." Seriously.  I'm calling Chuck Lorre.

Whatever.  I will keep the faith and keep on going on.  Because that's what I'm supposed to do.

Things I've learned

1) Life is boring.  Life is not a movie.  99% of things that happen are not nearly as "deep" as they are portrayed.  Drama in movies = good.  Drama in real life = bad.
2) The man/woman you fall in love with will disappoint you.  He leaves the seat up, she leaves a mess in the bathroom, they snore, and have bad breath in the morning like everyone else.  It can never be one long love scene.  Get over it and love them anyway.
3) If you think everyone is thinking about you, they are not.  People are too wrapped up in their own crap to care what your hair looks like today.
4) Happiness is in the little things.
5) You were put on this earth to be nice to people, be respectful, and treat people the way you want to be treated.  How someone reacts to you being that way is beyond your control and not your problem.
6) Pray.  A lot.
7) The things you think are so important now, won't be in 6 months.
8) Show love and concern where and when you can.  You will never, ever regret that.  And if you do - see #5.
9) Get out of other people's heads.  You don't belong there.  You have no clue of their past experiences, their true beliefs, their wants and needs.  So do not pretend to know "where they are coming from."
10)  Listen.  You learn a lot by doing so.

PS - Never, never, EVER text and drive.

Post Haiti

I haven't written anything since Haiti, maybe because I'm still sorting out my feelings about the whole experience.  I just watched Hinjio's video again, and I truly miss that place.   There are sick people everywhere, illnesses that can't be fixed, ideals and perceptions that will never change, and yet I'm drawn back to it.  I think it is the stamina of the people there.  They don't appreciate their tenacity because that is all they know.

While you are there, you're not concerned about the dent in your fender, that your wireless doesn't work and your house isn't quite keeping up with the Jones's.  You're thinking about providing something valuable for people that literally have nothing.  Who cares if you can't sleep at night because it's so hot - I can go home and not walk for 3 days to get basic health care.  I am blessed.

I've always felt like I never amounted to much.  I have a degree from Purdue, and I was on the right cooperate  track before having kids...  but since then, I've "meandered."  (If Wildwood wouldn't have been such a colossal failure, I guess that would have been my after-kids-career.)  But as I quickly approach the age of 50, I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.  I'll keep plugging away, with the thought in the back of my mind, that maybe this whole FOTOCH thing was in the works all the time.  God has has a huge sense of humor.  I know in my heart John and I were never meant to be couch-potato seniors.  Maybe this is our calling.  We'll see.

Watch this

One of our doctors made this video.  It's awesome, even though he filmed the people doing files the 5 minutes during the whole two weeks I wasn't there!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEZi_LJbXog

Home

Facebook can be a really good thing.  John recently reconnected with his old college roommate, Jim.  Jim read John's posting about needing 3 people to drive the central Illinois people home from O'Hare last night.  Living in the Chicago area and having a free evening, Jim volunteered to be one of the drivers.  They caught up with each other and everyone got a ride home.

We all met up in the church parking lot and said our good-byes.  I met some amazing people over the last two weeks - some came home with us, others didn't.  I really can't wait to do that again.

www.fotcoh.org

Friday

Our last day in Haiti...

We worked a half day today, then shut down the clinic to do inventory for the November team.  We saw over 2500 patients and hopefully made a difference to a few of them. 

This is frustrating in SO many ways.  High blood pressure and diabetes is rampant down here.  We give them medication, but some don't understand that you have to take something every single day to fend off real illness.  Some live so far away, it's a 3 day walk just to get here - if they miss a clinic, they don't get their meds.  It's the same way for the 13 babies we put on a special diet during this clinic because of failure to thrive - some mothers will follow the program, some won't.  Even with all the frustration, I keep thinking that maybe one baby we help will grow up to do something to mend this broken country.

Then there are the patients that we can't do anything for.  They have to suffer here, but in their illnesses in the States would be easily treatable. 

Dr. Trainor

The boy with the broken femur never returned.

But, we saw our sponsored child, Danielson, and even got him to smile.  (He's a very serious young man.)  We saw some friend's sponsored kids too, and I'm happy to report that all of them are healthy, happy and doing well in school.

So now, we've said good-bye to all our interpreters, swam one more time at the beach, had our last beer at San-San's and played our last hands of eukre.  I will be glad to get home, but now I know why John loves it here so much.  I can't put my finger on it, but there is something about this place that really gets to you and pulls you in.  I can't wait to come back.

This is why we do what we do!!

John, working crowd control

Kathy and I, finding patient files

Me and Danielson

Tuesday

I got a mani-pedi last night.

Neiva, one of the cooks, has a couple friends who does nails.  When Kate, our dentist, was here last March, they came to the clinic with three colors of polish.  She brought some more tools and colors for them this time.   A few of us supported the cause and sat outside on the porch, listened to it rain, sipped our Prestige, and got very pampered.  And then we had lobster for dinner, cooked in an open fire.

Mission trips should not be this fun.

John and his crowd control crew

Emil, cooking lobster

Monday

We had a really nice weekend.  Clinic was open for half the day on Saturday, and that afternoon we were taken to a beautiful beach, had lobster and a band played for us.  Then yesterday after a short worship service, most of us went for a drive around Jacmel.  I've been told that a lot of the rubble has been cleaned up from the earthquake, but many businesses are closed and it is a very depressed area.  We also went outside the city and drove past a "tent city."  I'm sure what is supposed to be temporary housing for these people will be permanent.  After that, we went to the hotel nearby and had rum punches and a wonderful dinner.  The yo-yo feelings after seeing the worst poverty and then enjoying a meal fit for a king - I can't begin to describe.

As far as we know, the boy I last wrote about did not go to the hospital.  His mother was told to wait for the doctors returning from the hospital in Jacmel (FOTOCH rents operating rooms at the hospital during clinics).  The rest of the doctors finished for the day and we closed up shop.  We checked our sources and heard that an orthopedic doctor was in town for the weekend.  But when we went to check on the boy, he and his mother were gone.  We were at least hoping to see him again today to reevaluate him and give him more meds.  I've seen a lot of pain, suffering and poverty over the last few days - but this one really gets to me.

at the beach

Dick and Barb Hammond - FOTCOH founders

One of the tent cities

Saturday

Hijinio and Holly with the boy

A mother carried her son into the clinic today.  The woman looked like she was in her late 50's and the boy looked to be around 12 years old.  It's hard to judge age in Haiti, especially since some of the Haitians don't even keep track of how old they are.  The son looked  like he could have weighed as much as his mother, and he was crying uncontrollably.  His knee was wrapped in a bandage.  We learned that a bolder had fallen on the boy - more than 3 days ago.  After the doctors examined him, they found that he had a broken femur. 

I tried to put myself in that mother's place - seeing my son in agony, and knowing the only way to help him was to carry him God-only-knows how far and listen to his screams the entire way.  Watching strange people do strange things to him.  Getting some sense of relief when whatever the doctors gave to him finally calmed him so that he fell asleep. 

I tried to put myself in the son's place.  The searing pain of breaking biggest bone in your body.  The wait.  The pain getting worse, not better. Then having to be carried - with no support whatsoever for that leg - to strange looking "blancs" that poke and prod. 

I cannot imagine.

The boy is being transported to a hospital.  The leg will require surgery.  Hopefully, we will get an update before we leave. 

The perseverance of these people astounds me.

Waiting for pharmacy

Friday

Best t-shirts we've seen so far:

"I 'heart' Boston"

Apparently, the Bears won the Superbowl a few years ago.  We've seen the t-shirts to prove it.

A guy wearing a Caterpillar employee shirt, with "Sheryl" over the pocket.

A large woman wearing a t-shirt that said "Designated wing man."

A cartoon of a snowman that said "I'm freezing my balls off."  Holly, of all people tried to explain it to him.  He didn't get it.

John still says the best one is from a few years ago - a very large, tough looking man with a t-shirt that read, "Trucker's Wife."

Signing off for my daily Prestige and we're off to the beach.

Dick Hammond and John

Thursday

The team is starting to fall into a routine.  Not being medically trained, I consider myself a "worker bee," getting up at 5:00am, to help start breakfast and the team's laundry.  We have oatmeal every morning and I haven't hung laundry on the line since I was a kid.  The Haitians waiting to see the doctors sit on benches in the middle of our underwear hanging over their heads on clothes lines.  I can't help but think they deserve better seating than that.

We have lunch and dinner prepared by Nieva and Andretta, FOTCOH's Haitian cooks.  They can make miracles happen with canned food.  Vine ripened avocados are reason enough to come here in September!!  And my friends and family know how much I appreciate the vine ripened tomatoes as well.    With the food, the Prestige beer, the Five Star Rum and the beach, this doesn't seem like much of a sacrifice.

I wish I could post photos right now, because I got some great ones today.  These kids literally have nothing, are malnourished and sick - and they still manage to smile at the "blancs" when they make silly noises and hug them.  I wish I could sit down and have a real conversation with some of our older patients.  Their weathered faces tell of a lifetime of hardship.

It rained buckets this afternoon, right at quiting time.  No beach today, so we'll just be hanging out.  Dr. Trainor is a euchre fanatic, so maybe we'll play tonight.  Sounds boring, but after a very long day out in the sun, I'm very grateful for boring.

Tuesday

Most of us were up at 5:00 this morning, helping make breakfast and getting ready for our first day of clinic. During clinic hours, I am helping with  patients files.  Matching up Haitian names with sketchy health  and personal information is not easy.  One woman we saw today went from being 63 years old to 57.  If word gets out about that, women from all over the world will be flocking to Haiti! 

The Haitians we have working for us during the clinic  - the interpreters, the pill counters, the workers, the cooks - are  all incredible. And all the guys LOVE "Boss John" and I guess I am "Madame John."

Wish I could post photos - maybe later in the week.  Working with borrowed laptops means that may have to wait till we get back. 

More tomorrow...

Sunrise

Holly with a patient

Holy buckets, it's hot down here

We finally made it to Haiti and to the clinic in Jacmel.  It only took two major airline planes, 2 very small planes, and 23 people crammed in a tap-tap (truck with a top) and two small trucks, but we made it.  We unpacked all the medication we packed, had our first rice and bean meal and already celebrated two birthdays.

It's not yet 9:00, and I AM BEAT.  Good night - more tomorrow.

At the Port-au-Prince airport, waiting for the small planes to Jacmel

Erosion on the mountains

Barb and Kate's birthday "cake"

John, Jeff and Sharon eating okra and piccli at Son-Son's

Here we go...

We're off to Haiti.

We're flying to Miami Sunday morning, Port-au-Prince Monday morning and then taking a small plane over the mountains to Jacmel.  The only reason I'm not REALLY nervous is because John has done this so many times and he has all the little things covered (like finding the money belt and passport holders, going to the bank and getting a huge wad of singles and fives to give out and getting little keychain flashlights so we can find our way to the bathroom at night...).  I still haven't packed and am worried about finding the charger for my camera.

For the record, we will have someone staying here and 2-3 other people coming in at various times to tend to the dogs.  If you are of the burglar persuasion and like to break into homes while the residents are out of town, stay away or be prepared to meet a few new friends, a couple nosey and retired neighbors who have nothing better to do than to watch our house, and 2 very vicious pugs.  I mean it.  They will rip your arm off.  The pugs - not the neighbors.  Well ok, maybe the neighbors too.

Feel free to follow along...
www.fotcoh.org

Mom 2.0

Today is my mother-in-law’s birthday.  I’m not sure how old she would be today – late 70’s?  Early 80’s?  I’ve never known anyone for such a short time that made such a huge impact on my life.

 The obvious thing is that she raised John to be the man I feel for.  But for 6 months, from September 1983 to February 1984, she became my friend. 

I hadn’t known her but for a few weeks when John and I got engaged.  She made me feel so comfortable, I didn’t have any fears about temporarily moving in with John and his parents while looking for a job and a place of my own in the unfamiliar territory of Chicago suburbia.  I lived there for close to 2 months.  Dorothy and I would get up and have breakfast with John before he left for work.  Then we would lounge around for a few hours, look through wedding magazines, talk and watch Oprah.  On those mornings, I told her things I never told my best friends.  Then we might go out to lunch and/or shopping, and I sort of looked for a job.  We ate out every night.  After I found a job and got an apartment, Dorothy and I shopped for a bedroom set for me and John - their wedding present to us.  I will never forget her rolling around on the water bed while we were filling it for the first time, trying to get the air bubbles out.  Oh to have a video camera…

Dorothy was the person that introduced me to the profession of purchasing.  When I knew her, she had been a buyer before getting laid off.  Are you kidding me?!  People get PAID for BUYING things?!  Why didn’t anyone mention this glorious job to me while I was in college??!! 

I miss her.  I’ve said it for over 25 years and I will say it again – I truly believe that God gave us those precious few months together because without them, I would have missed out on a big piece of who John is.  But sometimes it’s hard not to think about her without feeling cheated of time with her - for me and John, for Jim and Hannah, for Diane and Mike.   She died very suddenly, a few months before we were married.  I still can't help but feel she should have at least been at that ceremony. She would have been the ultimate Grandma.  I’m sure she would have spoiled our kids  ROTTEN.  Hannah has been told many times that she is just like her.  It would have been nice for her to see that for herself. 

Mrs. K., I only knew you for a few months.  I can only imagine how your children grieve, and only hope I can impact someone's life the way you did mine.

When did I know I loved John

That question was asked of me today.  That's a tough one.  I knew when I fell in lust with him (I know that will completely gross out anyone under the age of 30 who would happen to read this).  That was when I was still living with my old boyfriend and his family.  Ironically my boyfriend's father got me the job where I worked for John,  I then became friends with him, fell in love and married him.   And I have to say the last 26 years have been pretty good.


When do you really fall in love with someone?  in my humble opinion--


When they are one of your best friends (but ladies, you will ALWAYS need your girlfriends.  Always.)
When you miss them, but are confident enough to know that they can have a good time without you - and when the feeling is mutual.  Time apart can be good.
When you just know when to give in, and when to stand your ground.
When you agree on the not-so-little things...  food, music, TV shows, movies...
When you want to tend to their needs when they are sick (And guys - it means A LOT when you hold a girl's hair when she gets sick.  Hopefully this will only occur when she has the flu.  I'm just saying.)
When you start completing each other's sentences.
When being around them feels more natural than not.


That's it.  That's all I got.  Maybe it will help,


but probably not.

Sorry I doubted you

These are two things that I was positive we did not need, but John insisted.  I'm Sorry, Honey.  I'll never doubt you again.

Oh Blago. You are so entertaining.

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-august-23-2010/rod-blagojevich

I wish

there could be a global game of freeze tag.  Time would stand still, for everything and everyone but me, of course.  I would sleep for a whole day.  I would read books.  I would ride my bike as far as I could peddle.  I would download 100 new songs.  I would write letters on actual paper. I would pray.  I would finally print 5 years worth of photos and put them in scrapbooks.  I would go through the stuff I took when Mom moved off the farm and linger over the papers in her handwriting.  Then I would go give John a hug and that would break the spell.  The special people in my life would receive the letters I had written to them on actual paper and they would know how much they mean to me.  

Our baby

John and I took our baby to college today.  It was hard.

I cried - A LOT - when we dropped Jim at school 2 years ago and 4+ hours from home, but Wartburg provided closure for parents.  We gathered for a worship service in the chapel (Wartburg is a Lutheran school), then everyone walked into the courtyard and the parents were told to say their goodbyes and leave.  Jim went off with his freshman orientation group and that was that.  We left him with a group of people.  There was closure.

While Millikin is only an hour away and has a weeks worth of freshmen orientation activities, there was no set closure today for students or parents.  We had to leave her in her dorm room, all alone.  Her roommate was due back from soccer practice soon and the floor meeting was in an hour, but there was no group freshman hug goodbye.  When John and I walked to the car, I saw a boy basically holding his mother up as he walked his parents to their car - but that didn't make me feel any better about leaving Hannah.

I know she will be OK.  I reminded her - and myself - that she didn't like being a 4-H camp counselor at the beginning of the summer.  She had a hard time connecting with people and the days were very long.  By the time she left camp after her last week, she was crying that she would miss everyone terribly (and when we returned home today, we found that she received a letter from one of her fellow counselors).  I am sure that's the way it will be with college too.  That doesn't make these first two weeks any easier for her though, and that's what kills me.  But I know there is growth in this.  I know she will be a better, more mature adult from this.  I know in my heart that this is her time to shine.  We all just have to be patient and wait for it to happen.

I love you, Little Bits.

Haiti

John and I are going to Haiti in a month.

Hard to believe, but that is the reason I decided to spew all this stuff on a blog to begin with.  Blogging is the easiest way to communicate with folks back in the States when in Haiti.  Go figure.

We are going to get Hannah set up at school, arrange for the dogs to be tended to, bid Jim farewell (he doesn't leave for school until around the time we leave) and we're off.  I've gotten all my shots and been primed with thousands of photos and stories from John and others who have gone before me.  I admit, it is still - what's the word?  Unsettling?  No matter how everyone has spun it, it is still a foreign country, teetering on a sort of unknown balance, that could go over the edge at any time.  Once we pass through Port au Prince, I will feel better - until we have to pass through it again to go home.

But to be honest, I'm more worried about being the best I can be while I'm there.  I'm far from being medically trained and I don't speak anything remotely close to Creole.  But I can smile, pray for the babies that I hold and give away the donated Beanie Babies to wanting and deserving kids.  I hope I can be more than that, but if that alone touches someone, then that will have to be enough.

Like everything else, I will leave it in God's hands, and try not to take it back.

www.fotcoh.org

Nothing personal

The crown on a tooth broke. 

I loathe going to the dentist.  Loathe, detest, despise and overall hate it.  Nothing personal against dentists - heck, I'm related to one. 

I admit that things have improved since I was a kid, when the dentist would stick all of his fat fingers in my mouth at the same time and then ask how I was doing in school.  I always knew he would find a cavity and my teeth would be numbed up, picked at, drilled on, and filled up.  The well water I grew up drinking (no fluoride) + my genetics, providing me with deep dental crevices, + probably not brushing enough as a kid (and floss?  What's floss?) = lots of cavities.

Then about 3 years ago, I experienced The Hack Dentist from Hell.  We'll just call him The Hack for short.  I went to him because insurance was going to cover more of what he had to do than my regular guy. I will NEVER do that again.  I had a crack in a crown and I wanted to get it taken care of before it got painful.  I didn't like The Hack's "bedside manner," but that didn't bother me too much.  But then he tried to talk me into doing more to my teeth than what I needed.  That should have been my first clue.  Then his dental assistant delivered my new crown.  Before I realized what was happening, she had drilled around on it, and completely screwed it up.  The Hack tried to make it work and couldn't.  (He tried to put bonding on a crown!  Even I know THAT would never work!!)  He ended up drilling out that crown, the one next to it, and replacing everything over the course of a couple months.  I had to get 2 root canals because of what The Hack did to those teeth.  He finally became exasperated with me (HIM with ME!!!), gave me my money back for the original work and sent me packing.  I was grateful.  I found a wonderful dentist, who fixed everything.  Well, until now.  I could have sued The Hack, but it would have come down to his word against mine and I didn't keep very good records of what happened during every single visit.  I did file a complaint with the state, just to make him as nervous as he had made me.  He no longer practices here in town.  Go figure. 

So now, the crown that The Hack put on a tooth 3 years ago has crumbled.  Here we go again.  I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.  This time, I will not be going to a hack, but the scene from The Marathon Man will forever run through my mind every time I walk through the doors of a dentist's office.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dG5Qk-jB0D4

I freaking love summer.

one of the seven deadly sins

I've been thinking a lot about pride lately.  If one "deadly sin" can be worse than another, I think this is it.  I will try to explain and not be specific.  Don't want anyone getting their feathers ruffled, but then again, this is only my opinion.

For 2 1/2 years, I was a purchasing manager for a manufacturing company.  I was very grateful for the job. I had taken a long career break to raise two kids and this was my way back in.  I had procurement positions in the past, but that was prior to having children, when I could work late, go to dinner with suppliers and go in on Saturdays.  Purchasing is not the easy job some people think it is.  It might not be the same pressure that sales people experience (as John has shown me over the years), but you are constantly striving to get better materials, at cheaper prices, at precisely the moment they are needed.  The thing I always loved and hated about purchasing is that every cent you save, goes straight to the company's bottom line.  Salesmen (sorry, John) can't say that.

So back to the pride thing.  The company I worked for was a privately owned company and it was ruled with an iron fist.  There was a production meeting every day, and while it was nice to have some of the pressure of making decisions removed, it completely sucked to sit by and watch the wrong decisions being made on behalf of my department.  And let me tell you, there were plenty of bad decisions made.  And I believe all of those decisions were made because of shear pride.

Pride veiled everything for G., the owner of the company.  I don't know what happened in the early years of the company, but the last years were very ugly.  Delivery was everything.  It didn't matter what it took or how much it cost - we did not miss a delivery.  I often wondered how we ever made a profit, with all the costly hoops we had to jump through to make some deadlines.  I was not privy to sales contract negotiations, but one of our biggest customers was Wal-Mart.  If you know anything about Wal-Mart, you know they beat their suppliers to a pulp, buy from China and wave the American flag while doing it.  But, G. was very proud of the fact that he supplied America's biggest retailer along with some of their biggest competitors, even though Wal-Mart bankrupted much bigger players.  He was proud of the fact that he employed entire families.  He was proud that he did little things for his employees, like buy them breakfast or lunch once in a while. He lent them money.  He was proud that he had an elaborate Christmas party every year.  He had an RV that was mostly used by the female officers of the company, to travel to Chicago for Christmas shopping trips and by certain employees to go to NASCAR races. He had a company jet - even though he rarely used it himself and constantly offered it to nearby college sports teams to fly to away games.  He gave a very generous donation to a cause that is very near and dear to my heart.  His name is on the wall at Central Catholic High School, as one of their top tier contributors for the newly constructed building.

Where people thankful of G's generosity?  Heck yeah.  Was that generosity given for the right reasons? Probably not.

And every time his company got too deep in debt with a supplier, I was instructed to find another.  Be done with the past; be a big shot to a new guy.

I believe that this pride is what brought G. down.  I honestly think he would do anything to save face.  At some point he got in too deep, a scheme was born to get through it, but no plan was ever made to STAY out of it.  He devised a ponsi scheme of machinery to keep the pride going, and it didn't stop until he was forced into bankruptcy - after being in business or  25+ years.

So now, I try to stay reminded every day of how far, how deep and how wide pride can go; where it can start and how it can become a monster; how you can fudge on something and end up in jail for fraud to the tune of $250 million.  I think most people doubt you can get from point A to point B through just hanging onto your pride.  I truly believe G. did, and the ramifications stretch well past whatever generosity he ever extended.