Family

I Got A New Camera!

I have been using my old camera since 2003? I think. I got it when we lived in McAllen, Texas, and we left there in January 2005. It has been a good camera, but it was time for a new one, because it has been acting a little fickle for a year or so. It just turns itself off at will, or doesn’t take pictures whenever it doesn’t feel like it. And while I haven’t missed any truly important shots, I just wasn’t happy with it anymore.

When I found out that I was to receive a cash award from my job, I decided to use that money to get a new camera. So, when I saw that the money was in my bank account, we went to Tuscaloosa yesterday to get a new one.

Since I took this picture in a mirror, it is backwards. This is a Nikon Coolpix S630. It is 12 megapixels and 7X zoom. And when I took this picture:

the readout on the LED screen said “Did someone blink?”. That cracked us up! Now I still wonder how the camera knew that FabGrandpa blinked. I was soooo excited to find out it has a setting for taking pictures of food. Since you KNOW I love to take pictures of food almost as much as I love to eat:

pancakes

bacon

BBQ salad

It does a pretty good job with landscapes too. This was taken with the “night-time landscape” setting. It was almost dark outside when I took this photo.

And it was after dark when I took this one.

I think I am going to have lots of fun with this new camera. As soon as I figure out how everything works.

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Mother Of The Bride

Karen · 14 Comments

When Becky was here a while back, she gave us the news that she is going to be getting married. We are very excited and happy for her. We have not met her young man yet, but will when we go to Georgia this winter. She is very nervous about her Dad meeting The Guy. Dad is just not good at meeting The Guy. Lord knows, he tries, but somehow it usually doesn’t go well on that first meeting.

Becky and The Guy have set their wedding date for February 20, 2011 and they have reserved a very nice venue for the wedding. She is sending me links for florists and musicians.

I have started looking at mother of the bride dresses online. I know it is kind of early for that, but I remember when my youngest daughter, Emily, got married, we looked for weeks and weeks for a dress. It’s not that I am that picky, it’s just that I don’t think the people who make mother of the bride dresses are very realistic about what a 57 year old woman looks like in a dress.

(Here I am as mother of the groom in 1995. The red dress worked fine back then. It was a less formal wedding at a church in Smyna, Ga.)

1997 06 27 emily wedding jim emily tommy karen — At my daughter's wedding in 1997. Pink--not such a good choice.

Have you ever seen some of the stuff they have to offer these days? Well, let me show you.

That dress was actually listed as a mother of the bride dress. I don’t know anyone who has a daughter old enough to get married who looks like that, or who could actually wear that dress. I can’t even imagine it in a size 24.

This one is a little better, at least I can picture it in a plus size, but does it really have to be that shiney? Do they really think a large woman wants to draw that much attention to herself? I don’t know how formal the wedding is going to be, but if the occasion calls for it, this dress may be ok. Just wish it didn’t glow.

And yes, this one was in the category of mother of the bride, too. It shows a bit more of the gozongas than I would like.

Who are these people who would wear something like that to their daughter’s wedding?

I think this one would make me frumpy. What do you think? Or am I really too picky?

I DID find a couple of dresses I like. This one, if it is a more formal event, I think would look real nice on a “big boned” lady like me. I like the mint green, but I wear a lot of pink, too.

And for less formal, I might just pick this:

formal wedding mother of the bride — I like this one

It would depend on how it looks in person when I tried it on. At least the people who own that website are using a plus size model so you can get a somewhat realistic idea of how that dress would look on a larger woman.

And though I don’t think this one would be right for a wedding,

I do like the looks of it–except that I know something that clingy wouldn’t look good on me. And there is that cleavage thing again, too.

So, there you have it. All of these dresses were found in the “mother of the bride” category online. I think I need help.

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Remember Whensday

Karen · 7 Comments

(Michael and FabGrandma: love at first sight: 1996)

Thirteen years ago, on October 13, my first grandchild was born. I drove a thousand miles from Atlanta, Georgia, to San Antonio, Texas to hold him in my arms for the first time. He was so tiny, so perfect, so beautiful. He was the one who made me the FabGrandma.

Yesterday was his thirteenth birthday. He is now living in Maryland with his Air Force Dad, my son. But I have to tell ya, that little guy has been to more places than I have, and I go a lot! Besides San Antonio, he has lived in Guam, and England. He has been to Stone Henge, Loch Ness, the Leaning Tower of Piza, the Eiffel Tower. He has camped on the shore of Wales, and near the beach in Tusany. He has caught grunion on the beach at Imperial Beach, California, and crappie in a lake in north Georgia.

(Michael fishing in north Georgia with his Dad and FabGrandpa: 2003)

That boy really gets around. Here is another photo of him that I love:

(Michael on the pier at Imperial Beach, California, with the catch of the day: 2004)

Hope you had a very happy birthday, Fab Grandson Michael!

For more Remember Whensday posts, click here.

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Where Does The Time Go?

Karen · 6 Comments

I’m sitting here tonight, wondering how in the world it got to be October 6th already, and thinking I only have 18 days before we leave the North Rim to go to Alabama. I am psyched for traveling again, and really glad that I’ll be in a place where I’ll see water every day. I am happy that I will see my daughters and my grandson again soon. But on the same token, I am saddened that I will be leaving a place I love so much. Saddened that there aren’t enough days to spend with friends before we go. Lonely for them already and we aren’t even gone yet.

And as I think about that, I also wonder how I got to be fifty-seven years old so fast. Where did all THAT time go. I think about the people back home in Georgia, the related ones, of course, but more often the chosen ones. People who have been my friends for years, who still love me, no matter what flaws I may have. Amazed at how many of them I have found on Facebook, and who want to get together with me for lunch or coffee, or whatever, when I get back to town this winter. And overjoyed that I found one in particular just recently, who I have known since the 8th grade. Knowing that she was my best friend for many years, and that I have known her for more than 40, and happy that I may see her again soon.

And that kind of thinking always leads me to think of my mother. My relationship with my mother has always been shakey–I have never felt like I have accomplished quite what she wanted me to, or that she has ever approved of anything I have done. Lord knows I have tried. But at 57, I have tried to let all that go, and just love her, no matter what, in the hope that she would do the same. Sometimes that is hard to do. Sometimes I cringe when I see her phone number in the caller ID, and sometimes I don’t answer when I know it is her. Sometimes I do, hoping she will be the sweet mother I always hoped she would be. Too often, though, it’s not. And I know I can’t change that. I really do try to be patient with her. She misses me–my sister tells me that she does. It’s just hard to believe that when every time she calls me she loses her temper with me–whether it is something I say, or, a lot of the time, whether it is something I DON’T say.

We have very different opinions about a lot of things, from politics to religion, and back again. Most of the time she rants on rather loudly about whatever it is that has gotten her ire up, and I just listen until she calms down. More and more often, though, if I keep my mouth shut and bite my tongue in an attempt to NOT make her mad, that just makes her mad. And I have told her over and over again, that just because we have different opinions, it doesn’t mean I don’t love her. That maybe we should agree to not discuss religion or politics, and just talk about family, and my life and her life. And forget about the rest.

Our most recent telephone conversation ended with her calling me some ugly names, and hanging up on me. And I cried like I was eight years old again. I wish I could figure out why this happens. My sister says it is because she misses me. And that she wishes I would call her more often. And I might agree, that that is the case. But who wants to call when they know what the result will be?

I know there will come a time when I will wish that every time the phone rang it would be my mother. She is almost 82 years old, and I know how lucky I am to have had her in my life for as long as I have. I just wish she would feel lucky to have me, even if I am 2,000 miles away. Mama, do you know I love you???? do you know that you did a great job raising me? do you know that even if I didn’t accomplish what you dreamed for me, that I have achieved my dreams for myself? do you know that I am lonely for you, too?

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What A Great Day!

Karen · 8 Comments

As if this:

Or this:

Or even this:

Were not enough reason to call it a good day, someone came by my work station today and brought this:

She said she had had a visitor who left them behind, and she would not ever eat them, so she gave them to me.

And then, another co-worker came by a few minutes later, and brought this:

A half dozen home made chocolate chip gluten free cookies. Okay, I ate three of them, and they were yummy! He said a friend of his is starting a gluten free company in Tucson, and when she came to visit she brought these for me. Well, by then, I was feeling really extra special and very loved. And then, another person came by and brought this:

She had been down to Flagstaff, and was shopping at Frontier Foods, and when she saw their gluten free aisle, she thought of me. And that Cranberry Pomegranate juice? Because she knew I had that kidney stone last week, and just wanted me to have it.

People, I am so high on this spontaneous show of love from these people! I can’t tell you how good this made me feel today. I can hardly wait for tomorrow…

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Company Comes To The North Rim

Karen · 3 Comments

Because we live in such a remote area, and have such a small community, whenever someone has company, we ALL have company. It’s not that we are being nosey and and hogging up each other’s friends, it’s just that we are all starved for news of the outside world. Or, it could be that any occasion is a reason for a party. Whatever.

Lenny, Kenny, Sandy, Dennis, Walt

So, a last week our neighbor and co-worker, Dennis, came over and asked if he could borrow my dutch oven so he could make some stew for his visitors who were coming the next day. I gladly loaned it to him because I sort of knew I would be eating that stew, too. The next day, I was working at the entrance station, when the guys came in. Even though I had never met them, when they showed me their pass and ID, and I saw that they were from Kentucky, I knew they were the guys coming to visit Dennis. Sure enough, they were. I gave them detailed directions to where their friend lived.

FabGrandpa and Zach

When I got home from work that night, FabGrandpa wasn’t here, but I knew exactly where to find him. I went over to Dennis’s place, and found him eating the pork and chile stew. When I came in, I was still in uniform and the guys were all, “You gave us great directions” and “How did you know we were the right people?” and someone handed me a bowl of stew. Yum.

Me and Kenny

The next night there was a party at Dennis’s place. We had a campfire in the barbecue grate. It was loads of fun. Even though we hadn’t met until the night before, it was like we had all known each other forever.

Lenny, me, and FabGrandpa

Zach, FabGrandpa, and Walt

Kenny tending to the fire.

Dennis’s company left the following Monday. Today, Dennis came over with a bunch of bananas. He said one of his visitors left them at his place. So, I thought, when life hands you bananas, make banana pudding!

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Trying To Catch Up…

Karen · 7 Comments

I don’t which is worse in the life of a blogger—having so little going on that it is a stretch to find something interesting to write about, or having so much going on that it is difficult to find the time to write. This is the time of year here at the North Rim where we all start thinking about having to leave, and that brings about a flurry of parties and get-togethers. We are all trying to spend as much time as possible with our friends before the end of the season.

Last year, FabGrandpa and I didn’t get to know many of our co-workers and neighbors that well. It was sort of like, we were newcomers here, and people were just used to seasonals coming for one season and then never seeing them again. When we came back in the spring, though, we had lots of people smiling, hugging us, welcoming us back. Although the community here is small, we have lots of friends this year, and have spent many hours of our time off sitting around campfires, having a few beers, laughing, talking, dreaming with those folks.

I have so much to tell, and so little time to get it written up. I have to finish telling you about Becky’s visit. And then, I have to tell you about our neighbor’s company. Yeah, when one of us have company, we ALL have company. I have loads of pictures to share, and news of a wedding and a new baby in our family to tell you a about. And then there was my uninvited, unwanted company this week:

(that is the kidney stone, ugh!)

The enemy only stayed around for a day and a half, but that was way too long! I was so glad to finally see his ugly face and send him on his way. And I hope he never, ever shows up again. Next time I will be prepared, though, as I still have most of that RX of percocet left, and will start on as soon as I know it is coming.

I am having a dinner party tonight. I’ll be making my prize winning gluten free meatloaf, some home made gluten free mac and cheese, and a gluten free cake. My guests will be bringing something as well. Heck, I can’t even keep up with the two Meme’s I participate in, Scenic Sunday and Remember Whensday….

So, I may have several posts in the next couple of days, trying to play catch up. At least I hope so…..

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Ah, The Joys Of Kidney Stones

Karen · 16 Comments

The first time I had one, I had no idea what was wrong. I just knew I was in pain, lots of pain. I was divorced at the time, and my 15 year old daughter was sleeping in my bed with me because she had seen a spider in hers–and we ALL know girls of any age won’t sleep where they have seen a spider. I got up in the night to go to the bathroom and was not able to walk back to the bed, a mere 10 steps or so. I crawled over to the bed and woke Becca up, and said “You are going to have to drive me to the hospital.”

Her eyes got as big as saucers. She was more afraid of driving me to the hospital in the dark than she was of seeing me there writhing in pain on the bedroom floor. She did the next best thing–she called my son, who no longer lived at home, and told him he had to come and take me to the hospital.

When I finally did get to the ER that night, they took me right in, before any of the other people who had probably been waiting all night. They took several X-rays (this was 20 years ago, okay? I also had health insurance back then). When they determined that it was a kidney stone, they hooked me up to an IV for saline solution and a morphine drip. Ahhhhhhhh, Morphine was my friend!!! They also kept me overnight for observation, then sent me home with a device to strain my urine. You know, so I could catch the sucker and examine it closely so I could get to know the enemy.

That first kidney stone was a big as one of those black watermelon seeds, similarly shaped, except it had jagged teeth along the edges–a real mean S.O.B. Now girls, I gave birth to my son in an Army hospital in Germany in 1971. Natural childbirth is what they believed in over there at the time. Seth weighed 10 lbs, 8.5 ounces. And that experience did not hurt as bad as passing that kidney stone. I am just saying, I would rather give birth with no drugs than have another kidney stone.

Yesterday started out just like any other day here at the North Rim. I got myself up and dressed, and drove the 12 miles out to the entrance station, arriving there at a very early hour (can’t say what time we open up). I felt fine, up until about 9 a.m., when I had that old familiar feeling. The one where I usually end up writhing in pain on the floor. I called my boss and asked him to get in touch with FabGrandpa, and have him bring me one of those Lortabs the musculo-skeletal doctor prescribed me back in July.

The boss called me back in a little bit and told me that he was sending out the medication with my co-worker, and for me to let him know if I needed to come home. So, about 10:30, the co-worker showed up. As soon as he walked in, I said “You have something for me and if you don’t give it to me RIGHT NOW, I am going to knock you down!” I took my pill, and then went out to walk the line because it was a really busy day here yesterday. The trees are turning and all the leaf peepers are coming out. I don’t blame them, it IS really beautiful here.

I stayed out there long enough for Richard to have his lunch, then called the boss and told him I was going home. Then I called FabGrandpa and told him to be ready to go to Kanab when I got there in about a half hour. That Lortab doesn’t touch a kidney stone pain, I have to tell ya. I got home before he did and changed my clothes. I put on my pajamas and laid down on the bed. When FabGrandpa came in, he said, “Why are you in your pajamas? I thought you were going to the ER.” So, I got up and changed my pants.

When we left, I was wearing my pajama shirt and jeans, and a zip front hoodie. I forgot to take my purse, my hairbrush, AND my TEETH. You know, my lower partial plate, the one that I need for chewing if I happen to eat anything. I just wasn’t thinking about anything but my pain, girls.

It is 85 miles from our home on the plateau to the ER in Kanab. About 15 miles out, I had to stop on the side of the road and throw up. I have had several kidney stones, but have never had to throw up when I had one before. That made me just worry that there was something else wrong. About 50 miles out, FabGrandpa got pulled over by an Arizona State Patrol for speeding. The officer walked up to the truck on my side. I put the window down and I am sure he could see my distress, as I was writhing in pain there in the seat of the truck.

He gave FabGrandpa a very stern lecture about how our truck was not an emergency vehicle, and how he could call for an ambulance if I was that sick, but that he was not allowed to speed under any circumstances. I told him that if I waited for an ambulance it would take more time to get to the ER, and FabGrandpa promised to slow down if he would just let us go. He did, and I am thankful for that. bastard.

We finally got to the ER. I walked in and said “I think I have a kidney stone. I have had them before, and you don’t forget what they feel like.” So, they took me right in, made me pee in a cup, took my blood pressure and temp, and hooked me up to an IV of saline solution, and gave me a shot of Tordol and another one of Zofran, just in case. They also gave me a barf bag. The RN told me “If you feel like you have to throw up again, PLEASE use this bag.” I understood her plea. I taught all my kids to throw up on the bed, not on the floor. It was easier for Queasy Momma to clean up the sheets.

It took a little longer for the Tordol to work than morphine would have taken, but it did work. It eased my pain completely, and I think I slept for a couple of hours while the IV dripped out. As soon as the IV was done, I was released and sent home with a prescription for Percocet and a strainer. Yay. I get to wait for the enemy again.

The three hour stay in the ER: $1009, after a 10% discount for paying in full. Dinner for two before heading home (with no teeth, see above): $26. Prescription for percocet: $18. Having a husband who loves me enough to drive 85 miles to the ER: Priceless!

Sunset in the desert on the drive home. Crescent moon on the left. Wow!

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