Thursday, December 13, 2007

JAX

I think I received more emails from folks about how much they love Jacksonville, and I have to visit X, Y or Z while I'm in town, than I have any other city I've recently visited.

The flight here was uneventful - an exit row was the key to my joy, and excellent knitting (Hannah socks), and a new British History book on my ipod.

Why is it that yarn looks so much better on a plane? Is it the quality of the light up above the clouds?


Speaking of looking good - I'm in Jacksonville! It's absolutely beautiful here. Lovely. And it's 70 degrees. I'm insane enough to love snow, and cold, but I'm also no fool.

I only wish Gerry could be here to enjoy the hot tub (he got an okay to go into a pool from his doctor - but she'd prefer we wait until Spring. I feel that will be key to him being able to begin to develop the muscles that have atrophied in the past year)

So here I am, in my great and comfy hotel room, on TV a political festival, and my knitting laid out in front of me. Life is good.

Tea is brewing, cookies are here and I'm missing Gerry and the kids (not good, but bittersweet in that I have such an amazing family to miss... Tonight is Hannah's school concert and I'm so blue that I'm missing it. Dang.)

I found out minutes before I left that due to a misunderstanding the yarn shop hadn't made a hotel reservation, That's really my fault, I don't think I was clear enough - I obviously need to make that portion of my letter of agreement easier to understand.

This is how we learn, right?

It's no big deal - and actually probably turned out for the best because I used Priceline and got a SWEET room at the Radison for $65. Yay!

Then I visited my favorite car rental site, carrental.com, and got a really lovely rate for 2 days- $17/day at Alamo - which turns out to be cheaper than cabs!

I know it's a good rate when the clerk at the desk is impressed...

So I'm here, I'm free, I have the lovely time to decompress and unwind.

The absolute hardest thing about what I do is getting the professional Annie separated from Annie-the-buddy. Both Annies need time to 'get over' a flight (and need to have time to just have the meanies every now and then.)

That's SO hard when you're getting a ride from someone - so hard for them, and so hard for me to be "on" and up and good/kind/sweet when I'm still switching time zones and grumbling about airport layouts.

So the ability to rent a car is my idea of a dream. I'm in heaven. Yay.

And this way I get to see scenery - and go places on my own - and I'm not tied to a hotel restaurant!

So I went for a drive - across the street - and got a salad and brought it back to my hotel room. A salad and a beer, dinner of the gods.

Speaking of dinner of the gods, a friend made us some soup recently and it was delicious. SO delicious, as a matter of fact, that I found myself waking up and sneaking downstairs at 6:00 am to have a bowl.

And the soup is supposed to be good for us, too. That was a kind and dear thing - and so much better than sneaking downstairs for a cookie. Thank you!

Gotta run - Keith's on and I have some knitting to do. Heaven, I tells ya!

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Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Winter Wonder Land(y)

I haven't written for a few days. I've been recovering.

From this.



Of course, Gerry didn't tube - he manned the camera.

We've pretty much decided to have Max's birthday party here, though - finally, a really GOOD Winter birthday choice! And a low-tech chalet for some fine hot chocolate and cake later!

I was low key - I didn't go down as much as the kids ; ) - but it was great fun and a much needed physical release for the whole family.

However, I had VERY sore arms on Monday from the tow rope (it took me a few passes to figure it out - and I'm afraid my outfit was perhaps the least flattering thing I could have worn - but who cares, really?)

Last night we picked up a Christmas tree - earlier in the day I dropped off our Mount Zion application, so we're hitting all the bases. Now to get the tree UP and the presents wrapped before I leave town on Thursday (a wrapped package doesn't need hiding - maybe.)

Everyone's getting into the decorating frenzy.

I'm psyched about going to Florida - I was there last year to teach in Tampa at a large venue, this will be my first time at yarn shops and, I have to admit, some sun would be a nice change of pace!

I only wish I could take my perpetually frozen husband with me (along with the transplant and weight loss comes new metabolism and lots of layering for the poor guy!)

The Lorna's Laces sweater is nearing the finish. I worked up the ENTIRE sweater on size 8/5mm, but it just seemed WAY too tight and heavy of a fabric. I experimented as I worked up a sleeve, and I liked a looser knit and more open-ness, so I revamped the entire pattern.

This is why big swatches are good - especially for me - but this is the kind of thing that's really hard to see until almost the entire sweater is done. And now I have a better idea of how this particular yarn "relaxes" - or doesn't - and what kind of fabric works best with the yarn.

It's lovely yarn, though - a real dream to knit up! And it looks just as good when it's reknit (and reknit again) which isn't always the case for some yarns.

When this is finished I have a second sweater in the same yarn - two different weights of it - and my goal is to have both finished and to LL by Jan 1. It leaves precious little time for knitting gifts, but I'm not doing much of them.

It's sad, I usually don't knit many gifts, which is part of that Queen Midas thing that affects professional knitters. We're too busy earning our living through our passion that we don't have time to engage in the passion for purely personal reasons.

Which is why the cobbler's kids never have new shoes.

And designers' kids seldom have new hand-knit socks...

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Disengaging

I'm saying goodbye to two old friends today - friends that have served me well for 15 years, and which saw me from grad school through single-woman-in-Brooklyn-dom and on into marriage and 2 kids.

Today I say farewell to Yellow Ikea Chair and Unique Upholstered Loveseat Sofabed.

Folks are coming to get them before noon, when we will leave for Green Acres to drown our sorrows in hot chocolate and snow tubing.

And I am more than a little sad. They have been good, old friends - but it's time to let them go. Neither fits in the living room and both need (badly) to be reupholstered.

I would just remake the slip covers, as I have several times before, but the padding in each piece is getting so thin that you can feel the wooden frame.

And Gerry has much LESS padding these days.

Besides, I got an amazing price on two new padded chairs on clearance.

Part of me is sad because I'll have no place to sit until the new chairs arrive; part of me is sad because we're sizing down to smaller pieces of furniture, which means less snuggling and crowding onto the loveseat or oversized chair. But mostly I'm just sad to see them go.

But it's time. Bargains like the one I found don't come around every day. We've (I've) known for a few months that these pieces just aren't fitting. But I kept putting off thinking about it because of lack of funds and much more important issues. Now the situation has presented itself to resolve this easily and frugally, so I will.

However, the new chairs will be the lions' share of our Christmas gift giving (at least between Gerry and me) and they'll make the living room more comfortable and homey. So we say goodbye.

I'm on antibiotics for this cruddy infection thing (lung infection, bronchitis, the doc said it was good I came in because it was moving toward pneumoni) so I'm feeling a bit more worn out than usual. I went to bed early last night, but hovered online, reading blogs off of Gerry's laptop that I don't normally read.

Multiple Myeloma blogs.

And I was surprised to find my own blog listed on a few pages as, "Gerry's Wife's Blog" - which is definitely what it is. Yes, less knitting - but more life.

I read about folks with this disease, spouses who are dealing with it, and - perhaps not wisely, but necessarily - spouses who are dealing with being alone.

This disease is such a mystery. One blog written by a young mother (early 30's) surprised us when we realized that she and Gerry share a doctor at Mayo. She was diagnosed years ago, but is just NOW undergoing her stem cell transplant.

What we're discovering (which we had been told, but I hadn't quite processed) is that Gerry seems to have a rather aggressive form of the disease.

The huge amount of spine disintegration at such a rapid pace is unusual, and it seems that generally the disease is a little slower in other folks.

Or not. It's such a singular experience, this Myeloma thing. As in any important life passage, comparisons to others can be as confusing as it is helpful.

Everyone has their own experience, with their own way of coping and their own saturation levels. We can come together (through blogs, among other more face to face venues) but ultimately we're solo on this trip.

Reading about other spouses who had their moments when they'd have to face the fact that no, we probably are not going to go 'poof' in the exact same moment as each other when we're 88 after a long and happy life, is helpful. Really.

Yes, it's devastatingly sad, but it's less lonely than dealing with the folks who haven't experienced something like this, but insist - sometimes cavalierly - "Oh, Gerry will beat the odds, they're just statistics!" They mean so well, and they are so kind, but their kindness is terribly expensive in how much energy it takes to absorb it and not scream.

Yes, statistics are nothing to hang hope - or fear - on. And every case is different. But refusing to face the worst that could happen, and calling it 'Positive Thinking' is as unhelpful as saying that being Brave means never being afraid.

And this is a terminal illness.

Folks have commented on how well our family is getting through this. But I think it's because we haven't lost sight that MM, like life, is terminal (to quote Elizabeth Edwards)

I'm afraid - and I'm brave. I'm facing the future, accepting that the worst could happen, but I'm hopeful and positive. Perhaps holding these complex feelings together in one mind is hard for folks who'd like live simplistic single-emotion-at-a-time lives, but I can't do that. It's not how I'm made.

And we're all different.

So if I'm chatting someone and they tell me that everything will be fine - I'll agree with them. Everything will be fine. But I may not mean the same thing that they mean.

They may mean, "Gerry will make a full and perfect recovery, he'll live to be 105 and you'll have to legally change his name to Methusala!" They may try to cram our current experience into a single-emotion perfection that is easier for them to comprehend.

I will mean, "Gerry will live until he doesn't, but he will LIVE until he doesn't. We - his family - we'll live, too. And we'll use the love we share to pull us through the hardest parts."

Which is different. We - life - won't be perfect.

But we'll be fine.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

A Most Frustrating Day

Yesterday was day 1 of the two day festival that is known as Gerry's Day 100 Checkup. It's when we return to the Mayo for testing and a doctor visit to follow up 100 days after his stem cell transplant.

And it was a huge frustration. Thank god I had my new tiny rubber chicken with me. Squeeze it and it lays an egg. I laid a lot of eggs yesterday.

First of all, so there's no worry as you read this, everything with Gerry is FINE! He is recovering as well and and as nicely as anyone can. His numbers are good, his tests were stable (we were told that - especially with the bone scans - no change is good news! "Don't expect improvement, be glad if it's staying constant...")

Basically, Gerry is a textbook case of how a recovery should go.

Now for the frustrations. Which were actually not earth shaking, just - well - nerve wracking...

We arrived at 10:00 for blood tests and then on for full body xrays so they can compare his current state of bone to his previous state of bone.

Then off for the bone marrow biopsy, but for some reason we had to wait over an hour past the appointment time. Everything at Mayo is scheduled, so we were falling farther and farther behind.

And things got a little worse. The woman who checked us in came over to tell us that there had been a problem in X-ray so we had to return to have a shot taken again. No big deal. Not really...

YES, REALLY!


Then it began to snow. Hard.

And everyone who walked into the area we were sitting commented, "Wow, I'd had to have to be driving in THAT!"

With every minute it was getting worse, and we knew we WOULD be driving in it.

And as time was passing we also knew we probably wouldn't be arriving home when we expected (before the kids got home from school) but long AFTER that.

Frantic calls to friends to arrange some kind of backup for childcare - but we're still new enough in town that we just don't have a lot of backup available.

Nothing freaks a mom out like knowing that her 9 & 11 year olds may be home alone, knowing that her husband is going through a painful procedure (but with anesthetic - yay!) and that there is still a 2 hour trip in a driving snow.

I pretty much almost lost it. So many of the nerves of the past year came to a head in that moment - but I was able to walk away and freak quietly by myself. Freak. Me. Out.

When Gerry got back from the biopsy, we STILL had a visit with the kidney doctor - for which we were almost 2 hours late - and which also made both of us uneasy as we thought that Gerry's kidney function numbers were very good and didn't understand WHY we had to go see the nephrologist.

I knew we had to rush - did I mention that in between freaks I had to run up 2 floors to pick up a prescription, run down to the pharmacy to turn it in, then run back up to Gerry? - and I knew that Gerry wasn't in a rushing frame of mind (did I mention he'd been sedated?)

So I innocently suggested that he get IN the wheelchair we'd been using as a walker and I'd PUSH him to the next appt so we could move faster.

And I met with the resistance of a man who's been stripped and poked and prodded - and only has his ability to walk to prop up his pride. And I was about to thrust him into a wheelchair and push him around.

I won.

[side note: Gerry just came downstairs to have me change his biopsy dressing and I threatened to take a snapshot of his backside. Everything is blog fodder, he said as he waved his bottom back and forth.

Okay, so he has the ability to walk AND a sense of humor...]


We got to the appointment, and waited, and waited, and waited. I thought about running over to pick up the prescription for Gerry's pain meds, but I was feeling just pissy enough to actually think, 'Eh, let him stew for another half an hour...'

Don't you wish your girlfriend were a sadist like me?

Then I picked up the St. Paul paper that was laying there and turned to the - of course - obits. And what should I read but a moving paragraph about a 51 year old man who'd lost his 5 year battle with multiple myeloma (and whose funeral is a few blocks from our home later this week.)

Very. Quiet. Freak.
C'est chic.

So I ran over and picked up the drugs. Nothing like an obit to encourage kind thoughts.

We were finally called into the nephrologists office - thank heaven we weren't near a window or I would have been counting snowflakes - and there we (you guessed it) waited.

And waited.

It wasn't their fault, we were SO late for our appt, but it wasn't our fault, either.

And now the knee-slapping, rip-roaring,
HIGH-larious moment of the day...


The doctor walked into the room and basically told us that after chatting with Gerry's doc, he determined that they'd gotten our files mixed up and Gerry didn't have to be there at all.

Freak.

I think I broke the record for saying good-bye to the doc, thank-you-very-much, wrangling Gerry into the wheelchair and booking to the door.

Booking - it was a very 70's moment.


We decided we'd leave Gerry warm in the lobby while I ran and got the car. Good plan.

And at the car I realized I'd left the keys with Gerry. Good plan which was not well thought out.

What a day, huh?

Suffice to say we got home about 2 minutes after Max, life is good, and today our trip was almost a total reversal.

A pretty day driving home, no blowing snow, lots of blue sky, and our appointments went well. Gorgeous!

We adore our doctor - she's funny and smart and said all the right things without fibbing or glossing over the hard parts. I wish she was a cousin.

And speaking of cousins, today started with an email from my cousin, Jan - who is rather like a sister to me and pretty much the last 'immediate' family member who's still around - that her breast cancer has recurred.

Damn. I'm still trying to process this - I feel that I've almost been living in a state where I'm standing outside myself for much of the past year, and this just isn't sinking in.

So tonight - after taking Hannah and a friend to see The Golden Compass (I promised I'd take her on the first day, we've both read and love the book) I'm home, finally, in my comfy chair and relaxing. I love home.

We may go tubing this weekend (me and the kids, with Gerry watching) out at Green Acres. I think we all deserve a chance to blow off some steam.

On second thought - maybe we'll go on Sunday. I deserve a day off.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Gelt Me, Baby!

Life has escaped us this year in many ways. We're very focused on the day to day, and suddenly we look up and it's Hannukah! They keep moving that darned holiday...

So, in celebration of the holiday, I made our family's traditional (and rather self conciously Martha Stewart-esque) Gelt Cookie.

I used the Nut Crescent recipe, which has been my own family's traditional Christmas Cookie.

And which, I discovered this year, is pretty much the same as the Mexican Wedding Cookie. Go figure...

To "gelt" the cookies, I use any refrigerator cookie recipe (peanut butter, sugar, etc.), roll the dough into 1" balls, peel the back off of a piece of gelt (in this case the fashionable JFK gelt) and smash it into the cookie.

I leave the foil on the front of the coin, to be removed by the happy recipient of the cookie. If they're smart.

If not, then it's the traditional chewing of the tin foil Hannukah dentist visit... We're meeting with the director at our potential new Temple today - I hope she's duly impressed with our embrace of the little-known JFK Hannukah tradition.


Speaking of dentists, we all went to the dentist yesterday - we're teeth happy. I have two cavities, but the hygienist said that my teeth were in pretty good shape for someone who's been effectively avoiding the dentist for 5 years.

Instead of flossing, which I loath, I'm going to start using these little things - like tiny Christmas Trees (so festive for the holiday season - and they're GREEN!)

They're little brushes that go in between the teeth, thus eliminating that awful SNAP! moment when the floss finally works between the teeth and hits the gums with whip-like accuracy. OUCH!

And continuing with the Hannukah traditions, Gerry's gifted me with the traditional first night gift of new wheels for the PT cruiser.

These are necessary, as two of my wheels are out of whack (potholes and LOTS of driving) so - according to G - they all have to be replaced.

Apparently he got an amazing price online, so they arrived yesterday and now I'll load them into the car and take them to the garage to have them put on.

Funny how the holidays just sneak up on us, huh?

Monday, December 03, 2007

Assuming the Mantle

Hannah pauses between flights
I was the designated taker-of-kids-to-the-sledding-hill parent this time, so I brought Atticus along just for good measure.

The kids had a BLAST on the hill back behind the Highland Park Rec Center, and I ended up by sledding down the hill myself.

Atticus had an amazing run in a desolate area of the field (acres of untramped snow for a dog to romp!) and we ended the day with lunch at Mickey's Diner, then I drove down to Bella Lana to pick up two more skeins of yarn for gifts. Good times!

I'm going to call the doc today - it's obvious that this cold/flu thing I have should be isolated in a petrie dish and used as a biological warfare deterrent.

- We dare not invade the US, they have the ACV* Strain!

Also, with Gerry so susceptible, it's just not wise for me to walk around with this. So I've made an appt to see my doc tomorrow, after I see the dentist. A full and rich day for me. At this moment, though, moving off of this couch seems like a monumental task.

Knitting
The sleeve hit a hitch when I found myself both running out of yarn, and unhappy with the heaviness of the fabric. So I ripped out and I'll be reknitting with a larger needle, and may even throw in some eyelets between the ribs and cables to keep the sleeves from being too thick and unwieldy. I'm not fond of ripping out - well, not when I feel a little rushed - but I'd much rather rip out than turn in something I'm not proud of.

And speaking of sleeves, I just can't seem to get the darned second sleeve finished on the Tilli Tomas Cardigan. I hate this betwixt & between period when I just have to get the darned thing FINISHED! The good news is that I worked a double knit edging along the front edges and neckline of the garment, so once the sleeve is done, it is DONE!

Cheer Up
The State Rankings on Depression Status have come out, and the last two states I've lived in rank among the top 6 in terms of dealing with depression. Yay! (Who knew?)

So in honor of this statistic I'll do a little happy elf dance, courtesy of Cindy & Office Max

The top 5 are:

South Dakota
Hawaii
New Jersey
Iowa
Maryland
Minnesota

Utah and West Virginia bring up the rear - which is not to say that they have more depressed folks, but according to the study they may not be putting the same importance on mental health issues as the other states.

Four factors used to rank the states were: 1) Adults and 2) adolescents experiencing one depressive episode in the past year. 3) Percent of adults experiencing serious psychological distress. 4) Average days in last 30 in which the population reported that their mental health was not good.

I don't talk about this much - mostly because it could open me up to a lot of negative comment and 'helpful' advice about dealing with depression holistically (not that this isn't an option, and I do take advantage of foods and vitamin supplements that can help enhance mood naturally) - but I am a proud member of the Fluoxi-team.

My name is Annie, and I take Serafem (aka Prozac.)

I can't say I ever felt guilty about taking it, but at the start I did feel odd. Rather like I should be able to deal with anything on my own, without the need for chemistry to enhance my mood.

I was also worried that my creativity would be affected. That turned out to be a non-worry; once I was able to prioritize my needs, wants and desires, I was able to be much more productive and creative.

More than a 'happy pill,' I feel that taking my pink and grey capsule helps me prioritize the important stuff, and allows me to let the other stuff take care of itself.

I feel that my dad was severely depressed - undiagnosed - and self medicated himself to deal with his chemical imbalance using alcohol and prescription pain killers. Not great for him, and worse for his family.

I have no idea what might have been, or could have been done differently for my dad, especially given the treatment resources at that time, but I have no doubts that my own life is enhanced by drug therapy. I know that my own kids have a happier and more balanced parent than I did. So at least in that respect we're gaining ground.

Folks who are resistant to this - either for themselves or for others - can be very vocal in their disdain. It's hard to admit to taking Serafem when I know that some folks may say, "Why can't you just handle a bad mood?" or "I don't think I'd ever rely on a drug to make me happy..."

But it's not really that way.

If you think of depression as a disease - and it is - then you begin to realize that taking a drug to maintain a healthy chemical balance in the brain is not that different from taking a drug to maintain lung health, or keep insulin levels in order.

That's quite a leap, though, for those who have been brought up to believe that drug therapy for depression is wrong.

A few years I ran into a good friend who was dealing with post partum depression. She'd had two babies in as many years, and was beside herself. She was also dealing with a husband and mother in law who were rather fundamentalist, and felt that the only 'drug' one needed to assuage feelings of depression or thoughts of suicide was Jesus.

Religion can be a help and a comfort, but in this case my friend was made to feel guilty for even considering that there might be something out there that could help her bridge the place she was at mentally and the place she'd like to be.

I told her about my own experience, and she was very grateful to know someone - anyone - who had been going through was she was going through, and had found some light at the end of the tunnel.

Nothing in life is perfect, and I know some folks with mental health issues have been misdiagnosed and badly treated using incorrect medications. But for me this route has been working very well for a few years - and I'm very glad that I'm on it.

And now to drag my warm and cozy behind off the sofa so I can take Atticus for a chilly walk - which he loves! He's a snowdog!

*[Annie Crud Virus]

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Settling In

It's a snowy Minnesota weekend - it's long in coming. A weekend that's good for cups of hot tea or chocolate, sledding and knitting. I'll take the latter, thank you very much...

November is usually a much snowier month (according to the records and the locals; we have nothing to judge it by personally.) There's a lot of catch-up to do in order to get the snowfall/rainfall levels back up to a decent place. No one likes a drought.

The kitchen is a cheery place today - cookies to bake, a crock pot of oatmeal cooking in the crock pot (with raisins!) and an ipod full of holiday songs that we're listening to.

How odd - and wonderful - to be in THE Charlie Brown Christmas town - St. Paul. Kind of cool, since it's so much a part of my earliest holiday memories. I remember waiting for A Charlie Brown Christmas to air every year - it doesn't have the same cache now that it's available 24/7, all year long.

If you want to see a group of college freshmen reduced to weepy kids, play the Charlie Brown Christmas Album in a dorm.

So here the kids and I sit, watching the snow and waiting for the cookie dough we made this morning after their Saturday activities (Hannah; Fencing. Max; Footsall) to chill thoroughly. We should just take it outside.

And we're waiting for Gerry to return from his
MM Support Group.

This is Gerry's first MM Meeting, a long time in coming, and he was pretty jazzed for it. He just called to say that there were about 22 people at the group, and the consensus was that he looks REALLY good for someone who is about to have his 100 day appointment.

This was really good for him to hear - good to hear it from other folks who are going this same route.

My only worry is that the streets are getting mightly slick out there and I wish he were home NOW.

A few weeks ago he came home from grocery shopping - always a good time, with the carts he can scoot by without using his walker - and said that he was standing in an aisle and it suddenly occurred to him that he was depressed. It just came to him like an idea.

Which makes perfect sense, and in a way I'm sort of glad that he came to that realization in such a simple way (and in such a friendly environment as the grocery store...)

He IS getting better - every day he's moving more easily and seems to have more clarity in his thoughts.

I see it, although it may be hard for him to judge. He can do just about anything he needs to, which can make him feel that he should be doing more than he can. And THAT can lead to him feeling less worthwhile than we know he is.

Most of all, though, I can tell that he just feels so damned alone in this. And still has such terrible back pain - which affects everything. In a weird way, we're back where we were last Christmas - Gerry with a bad backache - but we've come so far. What a year.

I'm thinking that attending this group may be the first step in dealing with all of the stuff he may be pushing away. We've been so busy just getting THROUGH the whole MM ride, the doctor visits, the transplant, the medications.

Since returning from Mayo, we've spent most of our time coming to grips with life with a traveling-mom and a stay-at-home-dad who isn't functioning at the level he'd hoped. We haven't taken the time - we haven't HAD the time - to really sort out our feelings about this year.
One thing about going through hell, there's not a lot of time for introspection.

But now it's time. I feel so pushed and pulled in 14 directions, but this is vital - we have to find a way to maintain the stability we've been fortunate to retain.

And, of course, along with all of these deep thoughts, the most important is considering where to go for sledding. Gerry's been the family snow outing guy up until last year, but this year the mantle will pass to me. I hope I am up to the challenge.

It started snowing in earnest when I dropped of Hannah. Then I drove over to the Jr. High school to drop Max off at Footsall. The parents exiting the building seemed almost more excited than their kids at the prospect of a foot of snow. SNOW!!

Everyone has a glow on their face (this is unfathomable to many of you who prefer the warmer climates, but for those of us winter folk, it makes perfect sense!)

We've heard that Highland Park Golf Course is the best around here, so that may be where we spend our post-cookie-baking afternoon.

Of course I'm dealing with some kind of galloping crud flu-like thing - which is why I haven't posted for a few days. I've been sleeping a lot - letting work pile up then dealing with it at 3 in the morning. Schedule of champions.

My constant, low-grade fever is ironic since I was bragging last year about how not-sick I'd been. This year it's different - I seem to be sniffling or coughing or nursing a sore throat and slight fever whenever I'm home from a trip. And this was the year I got the flu shot!

I taught at the textile center on Thursday night - a great double-knitting class - but by the end I was so stuffy I had to come home and steam myself pretty well.

So I'll direct the kids while they make the cookies, and when Gerry gets home we'll see how he's doing, and whether the kids are okay to wait until tomorrow for sledding. I could use a good night's sleep.

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Gerry's Multiple Myeloma Expenses Fund


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Snail Mail:
Annie Modesitt / Landy
1043 Grand Ave
PO Box 117
St. Paul, MN 55105




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