I need a magic wand

I’ve got a little deja vu going on and it’s not very pleasant.

A family member has been suffering from some pretty bad gastric issues for almost three months. After waiting and waiting to see an allergist—seriously, the wait was nearly three months—the diagnosis is no food allergies but maybe a food absorption issue. So now a gastrointestinal specialist is in the picture. Whatever is wrong is almost certain to require pretty big changes in that family’s eating plans. That’s the way with chronic and/or auto immune diseases.

The current situation strongly reminds me of when my older boy was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, and all those emotions I felt then have just come roaring back.*

I remember the sense of loss knowing that my son’s life was completely and irrevocably changed because his pancreas crapped out on him. I knew he would need to test his blood multiple times daily for the rest of his life, that he could never just sit down and binge on something tasty just for the hell of it, not without repercussions that could include dying, that he would be in more danger than most if he chose to get drunk, and that because of his disease, certain careers were never ever going to be an option for him.

I did not know how to be a mother to someone with a chronic disease. I feared that I might accidently kill my child because I wasn’t paying enough attention to his well-being. I felt tremendous guilt because he’d clearly had the disease and attendant symptoms for several months before his blood sugar levels climbed enough that he was no longer able to keep food down or even talk all that rationally. I struggled with learning how to cook for someone with diabetes, how to track all those food exchanges and count calories, fat, sugar and protein, how to test my son’s blood and give him an insulin shot. Mostly I remember how much I did not want to do any of that. I wanted him to be healthy, normal and disease free.

The end of that story, of course, is that he wasn’t disease-free and barring some amazing breakthroughs in medicine, he never will be. That may be the case for our family member.

I’ve walked where his mother is walking now, and I wouldn’t wish this on her in a million years. I wish now (as I wished when my boy was diagnosed) that I could have the disease instead. I know that’s not possible, but I wish it still with all my heart.

* Please don’t think I’m saying that it’s harder to be the family member of someone with a chronic disease. I don’t think that at all. Clearly, having the disease is harder.

A warm Friday evening

Yesterday's high was 81F, so Kent opened the windows and patio door. I'm not sure who enjoyed the weather more, us or the cats.

Surveying the back yard (and the little dog next door)

On alert for a bird or squirrel

I think they were watching the little dog

He was entranced by the blowing leaves

My desk tonight

What's on  your desk?

How do you store your knives?

Years and years ago, I was at my aunt and uncle's house with my children and noticed that my aunt and uncle stored their cutting knives on a magnetic strip attached to the wall, under a kitchen cabinet. I thought that was a very clever way to store knives; I've always detested just tossing them into a drawer where they rattle around and bang against each other, getting duller and duller. I equally detest those nasty butcher block holders because they take up so much room on the counter. Plus I'm not convinced they are particularly good for knives either since the knives generally rest with their sharp sides against the wood. So once I got home, I bought my own magnetic strip and have used one to store my knives ever since.

Unfortunately, our house, while practically perfect in every way, won't accommodate the magnetic strip for knife storage. You see, we have tiles on the back splash where you'd normally install the magnetic strip. Kent is pretty sure if we tried to install the screws used to hold the magnetic strip, the tiles would crack.

So I had to find another way to store knives, one that didn't involve a butcher block or a drawer. Here's the solution:

It's a block of wood with a big magnet inside, and then there are two pieces of acrylic (I think) on the outside of the two big sides of the block. I wish this were smaller but the footprint is not as bad as a butcher block. Plus the sharp parts of the knives don't touch anything.

I'm a believer

Remember those collars I mentioned that we got for the cats? The Feliway collars that have a calming pheromone on them, right up by the cats' faces? I wrote that I was skeptical about how effective they would be, since we'd used the spray to no effect.

Well, I can tell now that they did work because the cats are getting tense again. The collars are good for about four weeks and it's been close that now. Before you tell me I'm experiencing confirmation bias, let me tell you I don't want the collars to be so effective because (a) I can smell them and (b) they aren't cheap.

But both boy kitties are back to being very skittish and jumpy, and Eddie's starting to bully Chloe again. So I ordered another three of them from Amazon (I love Amazon), and the new collars will be here Tuesday.

I feel a little bit like a drug pusher. A purple, smelly drug.

Safety dance

Yesterday I had to be at work quite early so I left home shortly after 6 AM. It was still dark, and as I drove down Mission Road, I saw a runner in the right lane on my side of the street running against traffic. He wasn't on the sidewalk because we still have a lot of snow from the two storms we got last week. I thought he was taking a risk but at least he had on reflective gear plus a small blinking light attached to his hat.

A couple of blocks later, I saw three women and a dog, stretched clear across the right lane of traffic, walking against traffic with no reflective gear. They took up the entire right lane and weren't weren't even wearing light colors. I muttered mean things about their reasoning powers and continued on.

Then I realized someone in a Hyundai was tailgating me. Keep in mind it's just after 6, there's no traffic so there's no need to tailgate. Just go around. But he didn't, he kept tailgating me for about a half mile until we got to an intersection with a traffic light. He pulled into the left turn lane, which was controlled by a light of its own. But his light didn't turn green. He hadn't gotten there quite fast enough to trip the sensor (although given the early hour, it would have switched in a few seconds). No matter -- he just turned left anyway.

Work it

This weekend, we painted the second bedroom (two coats) and the dining room (only needed one coat, hurrah!). We liked the paint the previous owner had used but unfortunately, while she left us her paint, the second bedroom color was missing and the dining room color had entirely congealed.

So we went with one of our favorites, Navajo Sand by Glidden. We like that it's a bright neutral that shifts in color just a bit depending on what kind of light you get in the room. And take my word for it, it's not a boring renter's beige at all.

We also got the dining room curtains shortened to the correct length. These are our curtains (yes from Ikea, I swear we are a poster family for Ikea), and the directions for hemming the curtains pretty much tell you to just cut them off, no hemming, to the correct length. You can't iron the fabric because it will melt, so normal hemming is challenging. I did hem them for the apartment we rented but couldn't do that again. While they were too long for their current location, they weren't long enough for me to turn up a proper hem. Kent cut them to size with our big rotary cutter mat. I was too nervous to do it myself, I tend to get jagged lines with the rotary cutter but Kent's mastered it.

Here's the room after the painting and shortening. We have another picture to hang off to the left (off camera) above the sewing cabinet. We also need to hang the five black framed mirrors we have and they'll go to the right, off camera.

Photo bomb by Chloe

Next weekend, we'll tackle the entry and long hall.