Germs, germs, go away.

No, really, I mean it.  I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.  Just two weeks ago I had the head cold from hell while my daughter was down and out with the flu.  I took a sick day for the first time in a very, very long time, rallied and got my sorry butt back to work.  I truly believed that the household was out of danger from the flu, despite the fact that AshLynne's boyfriend had tested positive for it and had spend a week home from school and work.  My reason for being so optimistic is that it's been TWO weeks, the incubation period should have been over.  Hmm...not so much.

Yesterday, I felt great.  Went up to Mom's to see Estes for one last time before she came down to winter pasture today.  The weather was crappy up on the hill, even though it was absolutely beautiful down here in town, so we didn't go out on a ride.  I attempted to spend some time with Queen Estes, but she wasn't feeling it.  She'd let me pet and scratch, but the minute I went in for a cuddle or a kiss, she'd turn away.  I'm now thinking that she could smell that I was getting sick.  Horses identify their humans by smell, and if I didn't smell right of course she wouldn't want me in her personal space.  At least that's what I'm telling myself to keep from getting hurt feelings that my baby girl didn't want any cuddles yesterday.  Today, my parents loaded her up and took her to winter pasture in Lyons.  From now until March/April, I'll get limited visits with her, as she'll be turned out with the rest of her old herd (and my parents' horses, which will move down next week) to run loose for the winter.

I'd like to think she was saying "sorry, Mommy."  but I somehow doubt it.

Last night, I had a little cough and a stubborn lung cookie that just wouldn't go away, but I still had no idea I was getting sick.  This morning, I woke up with a little headache and took some Tylenol before I went to work.  Still didn't think I was sick, it was just a freaking headache.  As I was teaching my phlebotomy class (which I LOVE), I kept getting hot, then cold, but I was moving between two rooms and the students had the same complaint.  One room was hot; the other was cold.  Still had no idea I was getting sick. 

My headache got worse, but, you know, it was time for the Tylenol to wear off.  No big deal, just take some more.  My lower back started aching, but, again, I blamed it on something else...the new "grown up" shoes I'd worn to work on Monday.  In all honesty, I never wear heels, and my new shoes have some good heels on them and my back's been hurting ever since.  But, probably, three days after the fact, my back pain should have been gone.

I made it through class, got back to my desk and started coughing until I gagged.  Then the hot flash hit.  Oh shit.  It hit me...this was no bueno at all.  I snuck back into the lab, grabbed the thermometer and zapped myself with it.  101.6  on Tylenol.  Shit, shit, shit.  Can't be right.  Nope.  I'm impervious to microorganisms.  I can't be sick.  I slunk back into the office and handed the thermometer to the Education Assistant.  She zapped me in the other ear.  101.7.  Shit.  Guess that explains the headache and muscle aches.

You know, for working in medicine as long as I have, I'm apparently pretty crappy at recognizing the symptoms of illness in myself.  I'm impervious to microorganisms, I'm impervious to microorganisms...my magic anti-sick mantra didn't help at all today.

They couldn't get me out of the office fast enough and they are probably fumigating the whole thing as I type this.  And they're probably saying that they knew I was sick all along...

A Powerful Post

One of my blogging friends just posted this, Daddy, I still love you.  It's an amazing piece of work from an amazing human being.  He did not participate in the Mass Blogging today, but his piece fits in well with the overall theme, Family Relationships.

Thanks, Nate, for letting me steal this.

Mass Blogging Day - Family Relationships

Today I'm participating in a mass blogging! WOW! Women On Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about family relationships. Why family relationships? We're celebrating the release of Therese Walsh's debut novel today. The Last Will of Moira Leahy, (Random House, October 13, 2009) is about a mysterious journey that helps a woman learn more about herself and her twin, whom she lost when they were teenagers. Visit  The Muffin to read what Therese has to say about family relationships and view the list of all my blogging buddies. And make sure you visit  Therese's website to find out more about the author.

My Grandma Mary is the most beautiful woman in the world. She always has been and always will be. She’s the oldest of nine children, three of whom died in childhood from pneumonia. Her entire life has been dedicated to raising children: her younger siblings, her cousins, her own children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I don’t think that matriarch adequately defines her role in our family.


The majority of my childhood memories revolve around my Grandma Mary. My biggest goal – really, all of us kids’ biggest goal – was to finally get as tall as Grandma, who towered over us as a whopping four feet six inches tall. Not only was it a milestone for me, my siblings, and our cousins, but it continues to be a milestone for our children, though she’s now four foot four inches tall. She’s a tiny little thing, less than one hundred pounds and getting shorter by the day, but at 89 years old, she still draws people to her with her strength and beauty.

Growing up, the whole family would gather for Sunday family dinners and Grandma and Grandpa’s house. My parents and siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins would all spend Sunday evening eating and watching the Disney family movie. As we got older, the Sunday family nights went by the wayside, but we always spent time with Grandma. When we got to junior high and high school, we took our friends to Grandma’s and she welcomed them with open arms. I can’t count how many “adopted” grandchildren she has; each of us brought two or three into the family, which has carried on with our children and their friends.

I didn’t seriously go to college until I was 22 and married with two children. I got pregnant with my third during my freshman year and got divorced during my sophomore year. I could not have finished college without the unwavering support of my grandma. When the kids were very young, she wouldn’t hear of me putting them in daycare – they belonged with family. She was in her early 70’s then and stubborn as a mule. I didn’t fight her. It would not have done any good. Once the kids got to be pre-school-aged, I managed to convince her that it would be okay for them to go to pre-school. Luckily, they were spaced out enough that we could “wean” her from them. And then my cousins started having children, so she has never been without children to take care of.

She is the glue that holds the family together. We – me, my sibs, and our cousins – have grown up, gotten married and had children of our own. And she’s treated our children as wonderfully as she treated us. There is no doubt in our minds that we are loved. Totally, completely, unconditionally loved. There is nothing that we could ever do to diminish that love. In her eyes, we are all saints. And in our eyes, she is the saint.

She had her first heart attack less than a week before her 50th wedding anniversary. A couple of stents and a week later and she was out on the dance floor with Grandpa looking as beautiful and radiant as ever. We all feared we’d lose her when Grandpa died of a stroke a few years later – after all, they were still madly in love. She mourned his death and moved on, again surrounding herself with children. She needed the great grandkids, just as they needed her. She’s convinced that when she has no one to take care of, she’ll die. She’ll have nothing left to live for if she’s got no one to nurture and love. Sadly, I believe her.

She is getting older, a little more hard of hearing, a little more frail, and I fear that time is running out for us. She’s an awfully healthy 89 year-old; she still lives at home and takes care of my cousin’s young daughters. She’s got a few health issues, but nothing like I’ve seen in other people her age. But I’m a realist, and I’ve worked in medicine a long time, I know that every day we have with her is a gift, a gift that won’t last forever. I dread the reality of her death, not just because I would lose her, but because, selfishly, I don’t want my grandchildren to grow up without ever knowing the unconditional love and affection she so easily dishes out.

Bits 'n Pieces

First, it's freakin' cold here.  I remember winters like this when I was a kid, you know, when October hits the snow flies.  I remember Hallowe'en costumes being made to be worn over our winter coats.  No cute little ballerinas for the Colorado Kiddos.  But, honestly, I've gotten spoiled since childhood.  We've not had bad, snowy weather on Hallowe'en for a long time.  And it's not even Hallowe'en yet.  We've got weeks to go before then.  Being Colorado, it can be in the 70s come All Hallows Eve or it could be 7.  You just never know.  Neither do the weather professionals.

Jay and I watch a lot of cooking competitions now:  Top Chef, Hell's Kitchen, The Next Iron Chef and Chopped.  Our schedule revolves around those three shows.  There are others, of course.  Ash is a big fan of Food Network's cooking challenges.  One of the most common contests in these shows is to do a "biography of your life in food"; we see that over and over again.  Or, the variation, "make a favorite dish from your childhood."  Always, I'm stumped,  I couldn't just choose one favorite dish.  That was, until last night.  I really, really wanted some of Grandma Mary's fried tacos so I went to the store and bought the makings.  As I was making them, in all of their simple, fried glory, I realized that those tacos would be what I'd have to make for such a challenge.  Since it is a cooking challenge, I'd have to fancy it up a bit, I suppose.  Do something like make my own corn masa tortillas and use ground kobe beef (please don't gasp at the thought of grinding up kobe beef - it's okay) or something.  But the one thing, the absolute one thing that I would not give up...the lard.  The lard makes the dish.  Just can't fry Grandma's tacos in Crisco or vegetable oil.  It's not right. 

So as I was frying up the tacos last night, I was reminded of my all-time favorite meal EVER!  My all-time, very favorite, has-not-been-matched-since (sorry Jay) meal...drum roll please... the fried tacos we had in Mexico when we went to the tortilla factory, got fresh tortillas, made up the tacos in the condo and cut up and fried the remainder of the tortillas as chips to eat our fresh guacamole with.  Yum.  Just the smell of the frying tacos last night transported me back to that condo.  I guess that's what the judges mean when they are asking for a "food memory".

On another note, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo for the first time and was a little worried about my ability to write 50,000 words in just 30 days.  Last night, I worked on my Tales from the Trail post and in just under an hour and a half had completed a post of 1,400+ words.  That hour and a half included editing and formatting, not the stream-of-conscious writing that I'll have to do for NaNoWriMo.  As long as I have at least an hour and a half a day of seat time with my computer, I should do just fine.  I hope.  I did get Jay and Jordan to join me in the NaNo challenge, so it's kind of a family thing right now.  Wish us all luck.

A Very Cool Picture

Ignore me, but take a close look at the barrel of the gun.  Thomas (probably just luck) managed to catch the bullet as it exited the barrel.  What a cool damn picture.  Thanks Thomas!

Killing Zombies - What a Great Day!

Today was the first Defensive Pistol Match (NCRGC) I've been to since June or July last year, right after Jay and I got engaged.  It was awesome!

Last night, Ash and I had a good mother-daughter bonding moment when she came up to my room to help me load up my magazines.  Not quite the typical mother-daughter bonding moment, but special to me at least.  I love that my kids are also interested in shooting.

I recently got my Para LTC back.  I had to sell it a couple of years ago, but the gentleman who bought it told me that if I ever wanted it back, he'd sell it back to me.  So, lucky me, I got it back.  I picked it up on Friday and fondled it a lot over the weekend.  It felt wonderful to shoot it again.  I ran into a couple of snags, but they were my fault, I'm sure.  My hands and forearms aren't nearly as strong as they were when I was shooting all the time and I limp-wristed it a couple of times, causing a mis-feed or two.  No big deal.  Despite the cold weather and mist, I had a grin ear-to-ear.  Nothing better than killing Zombies on a Sunday!

Have lots of video, but since I've "upgraded" to the "easy-to-use" blogger I've lost my ability to upload video.  WTH?  But that's a blog for another day.  Just know it was AWESOME!

NaNoWriMo

What the heck is that?!?

National Novel Writing Month.  A challenge to write a complete novel in just thirty days, from November 1 to November 30.  Last year over 120,000 writers entered and only 20,000 completed.  The requirements for completing?  50,000 words.  It's all about shaking off the shackles of perfection and writing.  That's only 1667 words per day.  Hmmm...that's kind of scary thinking about it that way.  So I won't.

Wish me luck.