Wednesday, January 9, 2019


I’m sure glad I take photos with my phone—it helps me remember what the heck I did.

In October, Kent and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. We had dinner at Freshwater, which is in Midtown. We opted for their tasting menu with wine pairing, and enjoyed it very much.

Also in October, I did what I do every few years and got a make up do over. I like to do that periodically because I think it’s easy to fall in a rut and then look dated. If you’re going to wear make up (and I am), then why not stay current?

Toward the end of October, Kent and I went to Choir Bar with a friend. He and I had dinner first at Le Fou Frog, which was good but too rich for my tummy. If you’re not familiar with Choir Bar, you can read about it here.

Since that session was the Friday before Halloween, people were encouraged to wear costumes. Kent went as a cow, and I went as Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction sans the hypodermic needle in the chest. Much to our surprise, we had a ton of fun. Here’s the video from that evening. Honestly the only downside was that we both had that song in our heads for weeks.

Then on the actual day of Halloween, a co-worker and I dressed the same on purpose. Even though we don’t really look like each other all that much, we get called by each other’s names, so we thought it would be hilarious to dress alike.

Kent made an amazing butternut squash recipe for dinner—the butternut squash “steak” is sautéed in butter, sage and a little bit of garlic and is absolutely incredible.

I resolutely did not observe the 9th anniversary of us getting flooded in Boston. But I remembered.

Finally, we both voted early and (yay!) some of our candidates won.

Sunday, January 6, 2019

Been pondering

While in Yuma for what’s probably the last time (I mean really, I think we’ve seen just about all there is to see in Yuma and besides Ben and Jen have moved), Amanda and I were heading somewhere with Jen and the kids. We both complimented Jen on their new van, and she said something that’s stuck with me. She said that deciding what kind of van to buy to replace their very old, decrepit van led to far deeper conversations about what kind of people they wanted to be and how they wanted to live their lives.

I don’t know about you, but my car buying criteria has usually been along the lines of whether the car is reliable, carries what I need it to carry, etc. I’ve never thought about a car, or really any purchase (large or small) in terms of who I want to be. But I think that I should have been doing that all along, and I definitely have been thinking like that since Thanksgiving.

Figuring out who I want to be, what kind of woman I want to be is a little exhilarating and a lot freeing. So much of what I’ve done in the past has been more of a rehab rather than prehab approach. Think of it this way—I’m in rehab right now as a result of that fractured pelvis. At some point, that rehab will be done, and I have a choice. I can stop the rehab exercises, or I can stick with them to keep developing strength and flexibility in the muscles around my pelvis. Or here’s another way to think of it. I want to pursue things rather than do something as a fix. I realize that’s pretty subtle and maybe I’m the only one that will resonant with but boy do I. 

So here’s a partial list of the woman I want to be—think of this as the 2019 kick off if you will.
I want to be the woman who:

  • Trains appropriately. I’m still horrified that I trained enough and ignored the pain enough that my bone split. 
  • Lives a balanced life. By balanced, I mean I want to choose carefully and deliberately where I spend my free time. I don’t have much of it and I get so frustrated when at the end of a weekend I look back and think I didn’t get to do the things I really like to do.
  • Builds friendships. Moving so much has made this one pretty tough. It’s hard to build friendships if I’m not there. I carefully tend the friends from Boston and I would love to have those kinds of friends here.
  • Devotes as much time to my faith as I do to hobbies (and yes, that includes running). 
  • Has great posture. I know my mom is probably laughing at this one. She used to tell me all the time as a kid that I needed to stand up straight. You were right, Mom.
  • Stays strong and active, regardless of my age. I’ll be 59 in less than a month and 60 is just around the bed. I cannot overstate how important it is to me to stay mobile and active.
  • Advocates for victims of sexual violence. I’m looking forward to volunteering more with MOCSA this year. 
  • Regularly blogs. I’ve been blogging for nearly 11 years, and while pretty much no one reads what I write, that’s never been why I write. I write for me and since that’s the case, I need to write for me more regularly.
  • Grooms my old kitty. This may sound insignificant, but Chloe doesn’t groom herself much these days. I suspect she’s got a fair amount of arthritis and it’s painful for her. Consequently, her fur has little mats, not enough to shave but probably enough to annoy her. We bathed her last weekend and I’ve been using the Furminator on her a little bit most days this week, and it seems to help. 

I still have a lot of catch up posting to do from this fall. I find that when the work/personal life balance tips heavily one way or the other, something gives. In this case, the balance tipped heavily toward work and that sapped all the energy I had for writing or sewing or really much of anything else.

This video is of a house pretty near us. They go all out at Christmas with their lights and while the video quality isn't best, you can get a sense of the fun and over the top display. They've got flying pigs everywhere although I'm not sure you can see them in this video.

Monday, November 12, 2018

I have some friends

I've been part of a group of women for, gosh over six years now. There are eight of us, and I've met not quite half of them face to face. Nevertheless, we are friends.

One of them has given me such good advice and counsel as I've gone through the whole broken pelvis situation. She's the one who told me when I'm getting irritable, I should probably stop and take a Tylenol because I'm probably in pain and it's coming out as cranky. She was (is) right.

Another knew, somehow and I truly don't know how but she knew, that I was struggling in the aftermath of the entire Kavanaugh mess. Even before then, she knew (again, I don't know how, this isn't one of the ones I've met face to face) that something wasn't entirely right in my world. And postcards started showing up. Postcards of dogs, kitties, one particularly amusing postcard of various bad posture, all with an encouraging but never saccharine note. This is the same woman who told me after we flooded in 2009 that it was OK to be angry or upset, that I was allowed a Job moment. 

With friends like this, I am rich. Truly rich. 

Just a few of the postcards

Saturday, November 3, 2018


I won’t lie, in many ways September was a very hard month for me.

On the positive side, I flew to Idaho to spend my mother’s birthday with her, and has a great time. Also on the positive side, I was cleared to start the slowest ramp up plan in the world for returning to running. And in more positive news, I had a mole removed in late August because my dermatologist had concerns, and the biopsy came back abnormal but not melanoma and it’s gone now anyway.

However, I’ve got three new moles on the watch list. One is near where the melanoma was removed, one is on my left shoulder and one is on my left hip. And I won’t lie, waiting to get the results of the biopsy back were not a lot of fun.

And then of course we had the entire unfolding of our newest Supreme Court Justice’s past splashed all over national news.

During that same time, I was completing 25 hours of training required of all potential volunteers for MOCSA, Kansas City’s only rape advocacy group in the metropolitan area.

In one of the required courses, I read that victims of child sexual abuse have higher rates of revictimization.

I immediately (and as I have always done) rejected that idea. Not me, nope, that’s not me in the least. Then I started remembering what happened when I was 14, 18, 19, 25—you get the idea. Yes, that was me. I don’t pretend to know why sexual abuse at a young age leads people like me to be re-abused, but I can’t deny that any more.

So I didn’t sleep well, I told friends I was either going to start crying and never stop or turn into nothing but pure rage. I was not exaggerating.

My mother asked me in early October if there was a reason I wasn’t blogging any more.

This is why. All my energy was focused elsewhere, on trying to keep my head above water, trying to get some sleep, any sleep, and to both remember what I needed to remember while not getting absolutely stuck in the past. 

Friday, October 19, 2018


One more kitty picture. I hope to have a little time to blog this weekend but meanwhile, I took this photo earlier in the week when the light was falling just so on Wally.