The Oddity of a Moment

What happened next, seems like an out-of-body experience to me, now.

I don’t remember any logical thought process. I can’t explain it. I clearly see myself glancing at the linen closet. In a fractal second, with no room for self-question, I pulled out a blanket.

It’d never happened before. I never even entertained the idea before. I only know this. I settled on the couch, fluttered the blanket over me, and seemingly instantly, fell asleep.

My reality memory kicks back in here.

By my best approximation, it was between 3:45 AM and 4:00 AM when Sadie decided to use me as a trampoline-style dog run. She ran straight up my body, barked in my face, and took off running. I curled protectively onto my side and sighed.

Seconds later she ricocheted. Running the prone length of me again, Sadie barked in my face, again, and sprinted down the hall toward our bedroom. I was hoping her antics might have woken Jeff up, so he could take her out. After her third round of nonsense, I threw off my cover and stomped to the back door.

Sadie followed me but refused to go outside. I picked her up and took us both over the threshold. When I set the squirmy girl down, she stood at the slider staring into the house. So, we went back in. As I struggled to un-clip her, she pranced in antsy expectant circles. “You’re not going to get a treat for that,” I admonished, but Sadie-lady didn’t stick around to hear what I had to say.  She immediately galloped away, rocketing back to the bedroom.

Passing by, I saw Jeff was still blissfully asleep and wanted to cry. With spiteful thoughts, I closed the door. She can just stay in there with HIM and the next time she thinks she needs out… she can wake HIM up.

I went back to the couch and grumpily set my phone alarm to be sure we’d be up in time to eat breakfast and get to church. A blink of sleep later, I was up and making breakfast.

I fixed the bacon, first. When that was done, I mixed up eggs for a scramble, started a pot of coffee. Amused that the yummy wafting smells hadn’t roused man or dog, I went to wake them, both. 

I opened the door I had so surly shut a few hours earlier, and immediately asked Jeff if he’d rather have toast or a bagel. It took me a second to scan the situation.

With one paw on Jeff’s knee, short-time-ago spastic Sadie the hyper-pup was sitting stock-still. Oddity registered, I stared.

Unblinking, maintaining constant contact with Jeff, Sadie’s return stare seemed pointed, communicative, a bit impatient; like she was waiting for me to catch on.

Quote for the Week:2019 09 24 Not everything that’s real is true jakorte

 

 

The Missing Third

(Ok, ugh. Out of order. Somehow  I managed to skip this post between Around the Corner and Murky. It’s a big important emotional chunk, too. So a restart – to bring us back to that point.)

I blew the car horn three times, in quick succession, then, let one long loud one linger.

That sort of worked.

Jeff didn’t wake with his usual start. He opened his eyes slowly and stared straight ahead.

“Do you see it?” I asked

“See what?”

I considered Jeff’s sleep-talking history and noticed that he didn’t seem to be blinking.

“Hey!” I solidly smacked his arm. “Are you awake?”

He shrugged away from me like I was a loon. “Yeah, I’m awake. A car horn woke me up.”

“That was me! I wanted you to see! Look!” I pointed.

“Look at what?” Jeff searched the distance. “You used the horn?”

“Yes! To wake you up.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” He puzzled.

‘Ugh!” I threw my hands up, pointing again. “Look at the rainbows! There are three of them!”

Jeff squinted and swiveled. “I only see two.”

“There are three!” I directed him to tree-top landmarks; to guide his eye up to the faintest of the triple arches.

“I don’t see it.” He repeated.

Realizing my vision might be clearer because of my colored lenses, I whipped off my sunglasses. “Look through these!” I demanded.

“These are way too small.” Jeff laughed, pinwheeling them.

Overcome with urgency, I shouted “I don’t care! Just put them on, before it’s too late!”

“Ok,” he agreed, but furthered his logical reluctance.

“You know they’re gonna get stretched out and won’t fit your pea-head, anymore.” Said, the man with a head the approximate exaggerated  size of an early-season pumpkin and the scale-confirmed weight of a bowling ball, to the woman who buys her ballcaps and sunglasses in the youth sections of stores.)

I watch Jeff bob his head up and down, peering through them.

“Nope,” he re-concluded. “Don’t see it.”

By then, the third had almost faded away. An unsettling sadness rolled through my heart into my eyes. Jeff stared at me, shocked. “Why are you crying?”

“I really wanted you to see it,” I whispered, to avoid sobbing. “It’s very… comforting.”

“Comforting?” Jeff repeated, his expression equally confused and concerned. “Why is it comforting?”

“I don’t know… it just…  is.” I was just as baffled by my reaction as he was.

I was so truly disappointed for him. In those few moments, it had felt like such an important thing; significant.

I’d never seen a triple rainbow before, and Jeff still hadn’t.

Quote for the Week: 2019 09 10 delicate things jakorte

(about this photo, i was sitting at a sunny high top table taking a little rest during a warmish march traverse city wine tour earlier this year. i looked over at this nook, and thought, “i should take a picture.” then, i thought, “why?” then, i thought, “well, those are some interesting angles.” then, i thought, “i’m gonna look like a loon.” but, it kept drawing my attention, so i got up and took a short burst series. back on the bus, i scrolled through some of the day’s photos while waiting for the rest of the riders to board. brought tears to my eyes.  i can’t always see exactly what i’m shooting in sun glares. happens a lot on weekend morning strolls. especially with spider webs and rainbows.)

More Brewing

More Friday, September 29, 2006.

So, back to this particular day. Over unrushed, non-churdled coffee, I asked how Jeff was feeling. He told me he must be getting better, because he felt pretty good. He was less tired than he had been for the last few weeks.

We had a quick conversation about maybe buying a cappuccino/espresso maker and a popcorn machine for the store. His targets, he’d explained, were the massage and hair salon clientele. He figured there was usually a person or two waiting, and the smells would be tempting. Plus, it’d make the whole place a little better on those extra hot summer days when the wind drifted in, confirming evidence of the adjacent farm.

“And…” he preened. “I already looked and they’re not that expensive.”

It was a creative and very cute idea. I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought; I saw issues. I brought up food licensing guidelines. Jeff immediately responded that we already had our food handler certification. I pointed out that preparing food to serve as opposed to just opening a jar of salsa and handing someone a cracker wasn’t on the same level.

I tasked Jeff with finding out if there was even piping for water available for our store. My optimist said that wouldn’t be a problem. If there wasn’t, we could just increase our water delivery for brewing. I countered; how would we clean up or clean our equipment?

“We can use the salon sink. I already talked to the owner, and she likes the idea of coffees.” Jeff offered, smiling proudly. He’d done some leg-work on this.

“With the hair dyes and bleaches?” I questioned. “I have a feeling that would be a bad idea, even if somehow it was approved by the licensers.”

Jeff tugged his ear, reasoning aloud. “Well, there’s always the bathroom sink.” I asked him to check on that, too.

I told Jeff I thought it was a great idea, but we had to see if it was workable.

Getting up to leave, I had another question for him. “Do you even know how to use one of those machines?”

“Nope.” He replied, with confidence. “But, we can always learn it at home, first.” That typical Jeff answer made me giggle.

With a quick kiss, we mutually advised each other to ‘have a good day.’ Then, I was out the door.

Quote for the Week: 2019 06 04 when asked if capable jakorte

Peppered; with Doubt

Truthfully, I still doubted we’d be able to pull it off, but Jeff’s enthusiasm continued to rise.

A few things made it easier for me to delegate. Trust that he’d try. Lack of Time I could devote. And a little bit of doubt that it could be accomplished in the first place. I figured the worst that could happen was we’d have to cancel. But, then, we’d at least have a head-start on planning for it next year. 

With a detailed list of questions and tasks, I handed Jeff the reins and went along for the ride.

Have you gotten permission from the mall?

Will it hurt the other stores’ business or are they ok with it?

Power – can we run bounce houses and band at the same time without blowing out the mall?

What type of permits do we need?

What type of permits do our table/craft people need to have?

Is there be enough parking in our small lot?

Do we need traffic control on the busy two-lane highway?

Are we sure the tables and chairs and tents will be at no cost?

Who will judge the homemade salsas, and how many judges do we need?

How will we handle entries so that it is an anonymous vote?

Do we want to categorize? Sweet salsa, savory salsa, spicier than normal salsa?

Should we ask winners or all entrants to share their recipes, so we can include them in the next monthly newsletter? What is the prize?

Who will handle hot sauce eating and contest registrations, run the register?

Decide how many fan favorites we want to have people voting on? 5? 10?

Then, invite suppliers to provide one type of salsa product for tasting,  let them know the votes will be 25 cents each and donated to ARC. Might need a few jars from each.

Revise the regular waiver for extreme heat sales to address participation in the hot sauce eating contest.

What are the prizes? One winner or 1st, 2nd, 3rd?

Update the membership list, add new customers.

What do we want to say in our mailing to members? On website? On radio?

Do we want to give a discount or a special favor to our members? Do we want to include this for new sign-ups on the day of the event, too?

Can we really use ‘palooza’?

I’d like to change the name from Sauceapalooza to Salsapalooza. Our store name has hot sauce in it, so that part will be obvious. Not everyone likes hot sauce, but most people like salsa. Plus, it would encourage salsa entries.

What if it rains? Or pours? Or is windy? Or nobody comes?

By the conclusion of one more BNI meeting, in one week, he got it all done, all laid out and all planned. Except for the weather, of course.

Quote for the Week:

2018 11 20 two things make it easier to delegate

Fair Warning

I guess this is the part where I have to decide. Well, I’ve actually decided.

I guess this is the part where you need to decide.

It’s easily discernable I’ve been sharing in past tense. Equally, I’m sure you’ve figured out ‘A Year of Memories’ leads to an obvious end.

The thing is, if talking about death makes you nervous, you might want to jump off here.

If you think finding humor in death is disrespectful, you’ll not want to continue on.

Just know, I plan to be honest. I won’t be irreverent. I certainly don’t want you to be upset or drive you away.

I can tell you that most of what’s coming has been shared with Jeff’s father, and he was able to laugh along with me. If Jeff was alive, I am certain he’d laugh with me, too.

Still, understand, there are some heartbreaking things I did not get to share. If Roger was still alive, I might have eventually shared those, too. Then, again, maybe not.

So, let me say, thanks for hanging in there, so far. I’d like you to stay. I’ll understand if you don’t.

Of course, I’m hoping if I can cry a little and still laugh about his life, our life, my life, that maybe you’ll stay, cry a little and laugh with me, too.

I’m thinking it’s only fair to give you a little time to think about it.

Until next Tuesday. After 8:00 PM (or so.)

Quote for the Week:

2018 03 06 some things remain just as beautiful when shattered jakorte

believers & broken snow globes & christmas ferrets

I love Christmas. In a completely different way than ever before. Before Jeff, I mean. And before after Jeff, too. Especially, in the middle.

I wish I could have spent a believer’s Christmas with Sally and Nannee. It’s only being a believer that makes it ok now. Well, more than Ok. My Christmas’s now are Thankful.

Oh, it’s still about the presents, but with a difference. I enjoy being the Christmas ferret. I’m sure I’m not the one out there trying to find something that will mean something more than just a gift. I listen all year in a kleptomaniac sort of way, hiding away personal tidbits. I suppose you could say I hoard memories.

One of which came to mind while I was drafting this week’s entry. The only thing that broke on our move from the townhouse was a Christmas gift we had purchased for Sally. I discovered it while my mother was helping us unpack in our new home. I didn’t grow up with snow globes. I know it sounds silly, but I didn’t know they could easily break.

It was irreparably broken. Another thing I didn’t know about real snow globes – the bottoms don’t twist off and globes aren’t always replaceable. I immediately burst into tears, and Jeff immediately promised we’d get another. It wouldn’t be hers but it would still remind me of her.

We made the trek to Bronner’s in Frankenmuth. It wasn’t winter but it never even crossed either of our minds that we wouldn’t find one there. Or that the particular one we were looking for would be discontinued. Still, we were well into the days of internet, so Jeff consoled me with the backup promise of finding it on line. He scoured, I scoured.

We both came up empty; just like the place in my heart I was sure would never mend from losing this piece of Sally.

In fact, it still bothers me so much that I interrupted my story myself just now, opened a new tab, and searched. My heart did a funny flip-flop as the very first image to pop up was my missing treasure. He was perfect. Just as I remembered. Even came with the original box. I couldn’t wait to buy him, my mind already jumping ahead: I’ll put it in my cart and then I’ll go get my wallet. I clicked on the image and a whole lot of other items came up. I carefully scrolled through and reviewed all 2 pages, twice. My shoulders slumped. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.

But then again, it was. Just that easy to remember how much I thought it looked like her spirit. Easy to remember how her eyes lit up. Easy to remember her laugh. Just that easy to remember, it’s the memories that matter, not the matter of the memories.

Quote for the Week:

2017 12 12 Its not the matter of your memories jakorte 12 12 2017
Enjoy This Week’s Discovery Links:

Why We Hold On: Sentimental Items

Snow Globes: All About

And Just Because: Frosty the Snowman

 

Pre-Step, Step

I continued my deliberately slow crawl toward Ketogenics, and crashed into convincing.

Third Step: Entice myself with palatable recipes from the marvelous world of internet recipes and Instagram using the helpful, happy hashtag #keto. It was so easy I almost don’t remember pre-internet. Oh, I have a vague recollection of taking the train to the Boston Public Library because whatever I was looking for couldn’t be found in the high school library. Of course, I used the opportunity to visit record stores and Quincy Market, too. The web kind of negates those opportunities. I mean you find what you’re looking for and you’re still on your couch.

Anyway, to my delight, I almost over-dosed on pictures of possibility; smorgasbords of scrumptious. From click to click, most everything looked excitingly edible. Jalapeno Poppers are Keto? Ok! Cheese stuffed chicken? Ok! Ricotta Pancakes with blueberries? Ok! Coffee Bombs? Umm…ok. Kale & Collard greens, well, probably not… but that was ok!

After much gleaning and self-reason, I reassigned this lifestyle to ‘maybe.’ If, I ease into it. Quite a few of the sites warned against the gentle-in approach, but the big leap just wasn’t fathomable.

Still, I decided to take the next logical step for me: Follow multiple easy steps agreed on by numerous sites, which actually means after dilly-dallying, I’d be back at the recommended start of my journey.

Easy Step 1: Choices were deplete cabinet full of food by wasting or deplete cabinet full of food by eating.

My choice? Re-home as much as possible, and then, do a little of both of the above.

From the cabinets, give-aways included: quinoa, lots of individual packages of nuts (with corn solids), canned soup, canned vegetables, canned fruit, canned and jarred tomato sauce, pickles, dehydrated potatoes, many forms of pasta and rice, baking mixes, cake mixes, muffin mixes, packaged seasonings, packaged dry soups, a wholesale store sized tub of window pane pretzels, salsas, unopened jars of jelly, tortilla chips, microwave popcorn and popcorn kernels and Pirate’s Booty, crackers, canola oil, vegetable oil, and low-fat everything – salad dressing, mayonnaise, imitation butter in various forms.

It was a little hard to let go of my jar of Ms Renfro’s BBQ sauce, as it’s a rare one that does not contain pineapple. Bottled wing sauce was another struggle, but knowing I could create my own keto version helped.

Remnants of a near empty bag of Christmas cookie flour and a half-eaten jar of peanut-butter made the toss along with some surprisingly expired canned goods.

There were a few items tucked away into an emergency stash….

Quote for the Week:

2017 12 05 overwhelm is easily negated jakorte

 

Enjoy This Week’s Discovery Links:

Processed Foods: Good ?

Processed Foods: Good ?

Processed Foods: https://bodyecology.com/articles/hidden_dangers_of_processed_foods.php