Itchy and Scratchy

My DH has been suffering a skin ailment for years.

We have been to the doctor, to the dermatologist, and nearly went to an allergist for help.

He received multiple diagnosis, multiple prescriptions, multiple steroid injections, multiple biopsis.

The only thing that seemed to help was the steroid injections.

We thought he was allergic to some kind of food. We cut out wheat, nuts, processed foods, almost anything. Nothing seemed to work long-term.

I did internet searches, looking for matching pictures of the blotches on his body.

Finally, after yet another trip to a dermatologist and the prognosis that there really wasn't anything they could do except give him skin cream, I began deeply searching the internet, determined to find a diagnosis and cure.

I stumbled upon a picture that looked a bit like what he had. "Hey, did the dermy ever use the term 'nummular' eczema?" I asked. "Yeah, that sounds familiar," he replied. So I dug ever deeper into treatment options, and found one I hadn't tried before.

"Could it be this simple?" I thought to myself.

I began washing DH's clothing and bedsheets in gentle soap with no fabric softener and added a double rinse to the cycle. Within days his skin improved.

He is now so much better. We can't believe it. We are hoping it is not a fluke, but it seems to be working. His clothes come out just as soft as if I had used softener. But best of all he feels better!

So, if you have skin issues in your family, try this and see if it works!

A Visitor, Hurray!

You know all many of my old posts have invited people to come and visit??. . . . Anytime?

WELL, TODAY'S THE DAY!!

Daughter #1 is coming here for a week. We are excited to have her! She is coming particularly to see her sister in the musical, because it wouldn't be her first wish to come in the middle of the winter when it was just 7 degrees this morning (sorry daughter!)

We'll keep you warm, I promise!

Mournful Monday

Our little doggie died this morning.

We are all sad.

It was a miserable weekend for him. The worst thing is that he still had a little doggie spirit. He was lively and bouncy. He just couldn't breathe. Even going outside for a minute was rough for him.

His larynx was totally gone. He couldn't keep any food down either. We know it's for the best, but it is still hard.

Rest in peace, little Tazz.

Musicale Weekend

I wish you could all be here for the musical.

It is very entertaining. I always forget how much better a stage production is when it is on the stage and not on film.

The talent in this show is amazing for such a small town. I will try to post some video later on in the week so you can all see it. We are not allowed to video during the show, so I'll have to do some during a rehearsal.

Wish you all could be here!

Man's best friend

This little doggy gave us a scare today.

He is 12 1/2 years old. Pretty old for a dog, but not unreasonably old.

The last 6 months or so we have noticed that he is increasingly having a hard time breathing. It is not constant. It comes and goes. We made an appointment with our vet who diagnosed a partially paralyzed larynx. Not much you can do for that. I guess he could have surgery and remove his larynx, but he would never be able to bark again.

Hmmm. . . . that may not be such a bad idea.

Today we could tell he didn't feel good. His breathing grew quite ragged. He lost his breakfast, several times. We finally let him go outside and he just walked round and round the house. He collapsed once. Ems was in tears. We thought this was it.

We tried to coax him to come back into the house, but he didn't seem to want to. We were pretty sure he wanted to go outside and die somewhere. Eventually he got whatever was bothering him out of his system, but his breathing was still seriously labored.

It was snowing hard and he was covered in snow. We got him in the house and tried to give him some steroids which the vet prescribed. He struggled for about 1/2 hour then suddenly settled down. His breathing became normal. He is relaxed and happy now.

But we know his time is not long. We were all traumatized by today's experience and realize that soon a hard decision will have to be made.

Thankfully, it won't have to be made today.

Mousecapades

Dear friends, I really wonder if I should share this story with you.

You might think that my home is a tiny 3rd world country.

That we are country hicks.

That I am a neglectful housewife. Well, that part may be true.

A few nights ago I fell asleep on the couch. Actually I do this quite often. I have a hard time falling asleep and when I do I don't dare wake up, get back up, and try to go to sleep in my bed. I will lay awake all night if I do that.

While I was dosing I kept hearing noises. Little tiny rustling noises. It was precipitating outside and in my foggy brain I assumed it was that--just the sleet coming down. Suddenly I woke up with a shock, sat up, . . . . . and stared a mouse right in the face.

IT WAS RIGHT NEXT TO MY HEAD!

The thought of it even now makes me shiver. UGH!!

I leaped up with a shriek and ran to the stairs. Poor little mouse didn't know what had just happened. He ran crazily around the room, thankfully not in my direction, before he found a hiding place. I put out a trap next to the couch, ran upstairs, and snuggled with my sleepy husband.

I couldn't sleep after that. Neither could DH. I told him I wasn't getting out of bed until he found that little critter and did him in.

About an hour later I heard some thumping noises, footsteps on the stairs, and a knock at my door. It was Miss Ems. She jumped into bed with us, and said she woke up . . . . with a mouse on her bed!

Miss Em has inherited her mother's inability to sleep. She shuts her bedroom door, stuffs a towel underneath to block out the light, and has to have complete darkness and silence before she can sleep. I cannot figure out how that little mouse got in her room with that towel under the door. Maybe there were two. . . .?

As the sun came up, DH, crept downstairs on the lookout for the mouse. He was hiding pretty well by this time and was nowhere to be found. I vowed to stay upstairs until he made himself known. I was walking into the kitchen when . . . you guessed it . . . I saw the mouse running around in the kitchen.

How could he move around this house so fast? Up a flight of stairs? Through a shut door?

My heart cannot take two shocks in one day.

After hearing yet another scream, DH came up and began the hunt. The dog joined in. We finally cornered the little guy between a broom and a shoe (he was in the coat closet by this time). DH shouted for me to open the door, which I did. Out went DH in his bare feet (it was 6 outside) and accidently dropped the mouse on the porch. I slammed the door shut and DH did a little mouse jig while it ran around under his feet. By this time, the mouse had the dog's attention and . . . well, let's just say we won't have to worry about mousey anymore.

Until the next one moves in . . .

OOOOOOOOOK LA HOM A

Miss Em is in the musical this week. I thought you might enjoy seeing pictures since most of you live too far away to see the show. Although I would welcome any visitors with open arms, you know. These are from the dress rehearsal.

"Why would I want to go out with Curly?"

Curly is describing the "Surrey with the Fringe on the Top"

Curly was sick during this rehearsal. Just picture the other girl as a boy. We are hoping Curly gets his voice back by show time tomorrow--and that with all the kisses he's giving to Laurey, that she doesn't get sick too.

That ol' peddler man thinks Laurey has grown up. She tells him to go eat a green apple for breakfast. A feisty one, is that Laurey.

The peddler gives Laurey "the Elixer of Egypt"


"Many a New Day"

I had to leave after the first act. It was a good thing, too, because I took about 200 pictures. I'll put the other 193 up over the next 3 weeks. . . .

Just kidding! Seriously, there may be a few more. She sounds AMAZING!!!

A Song in my heart

I am in listening bliss right now.

I have Cosi Fan Tutti playing on the Sirius Station. It is glorious.

When we were kids my mom (love you!) would play The Met on Saturday afternoons. . . . actually whenever she got the chance. She loves opera. The kids didn't. We were not as cultured as she was.

We would make fun of it and her, I'm sad to say. I don't know why. She took it pretty good--but as the years passed I noticed she was listening to it less and less. She used to whistle a song from an opera while she cleaned--I think it was from "Marriage of Figaro." Correct me if I'm wrong, mom.

When I was 12 she got tickets for us to The Magic Flute. It was in English!! What a treat!! I was still young and uncultured then, but I was excited to go. The night of the event I got a killer headache. I don't know if it was because I was excited or what, but it sort of dimmed the experience for me.

Flash forward years later, sometime in the early 90s. I am now a parent, and I noticed that Wagner's "The Ring" was being shown on PBS. I was a music student at this time and I knew a bit about this opera. It is a 16 hour long one. Wagner just couldn't tell the story in less time. It was being shown 4 nights in a row, and each performance was four hours long. By this time in my life I was developing a fascination with opera. And because of my early exposure (thank you mom--see you did make a difference!) I was recognizing a lot of the operas we listened to in class, especially when we listened to one that sounded quite a bit like a whistle I heard as a kid.

So I decided to give Wagner a shot. I turned it on and listened to it while I did my stuff around the house. Eventually I was sitting in a chair glued to the TV. Although I didn't watch all 16 hours, I think I got a good 12 in. I was hooked.

A few weeks after Emily was born, DH got tickets to Carmen for me. He is not an opera fan. He was being very generous and kind to me because he knew I would like it and I was riding an emotional roller coaster after she was born. It was in English too. Much to both our surprise, DH LOVED it!. We sang "Toredore" all the way home.

I have had many other opera experiences in my life since. But perhaps one of the best things for me is having two daughters who can sing it--and they like it too! So friends, go a see an opera today. You just might like it!

Drip, Drip, Drip

My appliance woes continue, much to my chagrin.

My dishwasher has been leaking for a few weeks. It started with a couple of drips that I mistakenly thought had fallen from the counter top. When the puddle got large enough to create a splash when I stepped in it, I realized that something was not quite right.

So, I called the appliance guy again. The same guy that told me it wasn't worth it to fix the microwave. I already knew it was $65 just to get him to my house, but I really felt this was fixable. So a week later out he came, and informed me that my gasket around the door needed replacing and that I was using too much detergent (make a mental note, girls, you only need 1/4 of the detergent you think!). So he ordered a gasket for me, showed me how to put in it and said I should be fine.

I am fine today. But my dishwasher is leaking again. Friends, this is serious business for me. I hand washed dishes for 20 years before I got that dishwasher. I'm desperate. I CANNOT GO BACK TO DISHPAN HANDS!! So, I just keep using it and stuff a towel underneath to catch the drips.

I don't want to call that guy again. He might charge me $20 just for phone advice. Suggestions, anyone?

To be or not to be

I've just finished a whirlwind weekend.

This weekend we had a stake dance. I was in charge. It was a full course meal mystery dinner followed by a 3 hour dance. Sunday I had a unit conference in a branch 45 minutes from my house. That's actually close for me so I was grateful.

Needless to say, I'm beat.

But life goes on, doesn't it?

Anyway, I've been pondering what we have been teaching to the young women. Here is the question: Is it possible to do good yet not be good? If you are good, is it possible not to do good?

I'd love to hear your comments.

In the heat of the moment

I really don't want you to get the wrong idea about me, friends.

In one of my last posts I referred to the term "expletives". And that fact that I used them. Repeatedly.

I just want to make it clear that I am not a swearer. When I was a little girl, about 8 years old, I remember being angry at someone. I think it was my mother (sorry mommy!!) I was so angry I went out on the lawn and started kicking grass. Well, as best I could. I think we had the kind of grass that never required mowing, it grew very slowly. Maybe it was the intense Arizona heat.

ANYWAY . . .

I was mad. Mad, mad, mad. And in that heat of the moment that only an 8 year old can feel, I said a bad word. It wasn't the worst of the bad words, but bad enough.

I know. Shocking, isn't it?

Well, seconds later, I felt bad. REALLY bad. Guilty. Sad. Ashamed. I couldn't believe I would ever be mad enough to say that word, let alone think it. I prayed and promised I would NEVER do that again.

E V E R.

And I have been pretty good about that promise.

So, let me reassure you that the extent of my expletives is usually "dang", "fetch" " or my favorite "dagnabit". LOVE that one!

Notice I said usually. Hey, nobody's perfect!

HAPPY V DAY!

Here's a Happy Valentine's Day shout out to my favorite man

I LOVE YOU HONEY!!

THANKS FOR 27 1/2 WONDERFUL YEARS!

Lessons in Frustration

Do you ever have days . . . weeks. . . . or years (heaven forbid!) where everything seems to go wrong? Where you give your best effort but in the end it doesn't matter anyway? Where you think you know what you are doing, but you really don't. You just can't connect A and B together to make it work?

I had a day like that. Thank goodness it was only a day. Actually it was more like a week.

Lesson #1

My 8 year old microwave decided it didn't want to heat food anymore. It would do everything else--light up, spin around, beep--but not cook. I called the repairman, and after a long conversation he patiently explained to me that it was more expensive to fix my machine than to buy a new one.

Not what I wanted to hear.

No problem, I said to myself, I'll just go buy a new one, put it up myself, and that will be that! I'm pretty handy, I CAN do this.

So off I went, checking prices and settling on a new little number that had less power and features than my old one, but by gum it was cheaper than fixin' it!

I brought it home and it sat in the middle of the kitchen floor for a week. DH and I couldn't remember how to take the old one down, and we could never seem to find a time where we were both home at the same time to figure it out together. Figuring out things together seems to take a lot longer than it used to.

But I digress. Long story short, several more days and expletives later, I had attached it to the wall and it actually worked!! Sing Hallelujah! Did I mention that the new bracket to hold the dad gum thing up didn't match the old bracket? Did I mention that I now have 10 more holes in the wall? Didn't think so. Anyway, here she is:

Here's Lesson #2

Remember this?

If you look closely at the wall, you will see several holes (now I know you noticed this yesterday, didn't you? You were just to polite to mention it.)

In case you missed it, here's a closeup:

Awful, isn't it? Looks like a woodpecker got into the house. Actually it was me in action. I really did know better--really! I knew those dinky little screws and plastic anchors that came with this device weren't going to work! I have attached thingeys to the wall before. I KNOW BETTER.

But I had faith. I had faith that the people who put this thing together would know what would work best. They had tried and tested it, right? Right???

Well, wrong, obviously. As I learned after several hours and expletives later, trips to the garage to find the anchors I knew would work, and lovely large holes in my wall. At least there aren't 10 of them. There's 11.

Livin' Conservatively

There are some things I love about winter.

Conversely, there are some things I hate about winter.

This fits into both categories:

I love my wood burning stove.

I hate my wood burning stove.

It keeps me warm, sometimes hot.

It doesn't keep me warm enough when it is -6 outside.

It makes a mess.

It is alot of work.

However, with all that being said, there is nothing like a warm, crackling stove on a cold winter's night.

I got the idea in my head that I wanted to try to save energy this winter. I figured, "hey, I have this great stove that puts out lots of heat, I should put it to better use, like, hmm, using it as a clothes dryer."

Absolute brilliance, no?

First, I needed to figure out a way to hang the clothes. After countless hours on the internet, I discovered this nifty little gadget:

VOILA! Clothes are up!

Add a little breeze:

And you are in business, baby!

I figured this would add moisture to our dry basement, keep it smelling fresh, and save me $$$$!

And it did, for about a week. Until I discovered my large capacity washer holds much more than my clothesline. And my clothesline tends to have major droop with more than 20 lbs. on the line. And my family didn't appreciate walking into wet clothing as they passed through the room. And sometimes it took HOURS to dry. And somehow it made the room feel colder. . .

Back to the dryer I go!

Farewell Friend

The last few weeks I have been busy with my friend, DG.

I have been her visiting teacher for many years. She lived alone as a widow with no children, no relatives in the same state, or even in adjacent states. She was a tough lady who "didn't want to bother anyone." I was blessed to have shared the last 10 years with her, and the last few weeks of her life.

Goodbye, DG. You will be missed.