The Daily Preambulation...

Wow! Look! There's my husband Dave hitting the finish line in his big race! Boy, he sure is athletic...13 miles at this race last fall and made great time in the Crazylegs  Classic this past  Saturday in Madison! Now, one would suppose that the spouse of someone who rises around 5am every morning is at his side, jogging along with him and singing tunes at the top of the morning right?
Uh, no.
Where am I? Asleep. I refuse to rouse myself to jump on a rubberized belt that goes round and round on a motorized tread mill to stay in shape when I am half asleep. Listen, if we were supposed to begin our days early like he does--without the proper amount of caffeine thrusting through our bodies, wouldn't there be a lot more of us doing it? Thank you.
It's not that I don't exercise. Let's get that out there first and foremost. For all I know, my ex-dietician from Indianapolis, who is not an official follower of the blog, is secretly waiting for an excuse to nab me via the Internet for some kind of  insubordination of the bariatric creed. Yes, I do a daily workout, no-almost daily workout, no pretty much most of the time I do a workout, OK! When I am in the weight loss mood...how's that for honesty?...I do a workout. Which is...now, daily. Ha. I got it in there.
Since moving back to the icebox of Wisconsin, the warmer season has only just begun. We had Draco and about ten other blizzards to end all blizzards and finally we have thawed out. So, really who has been able to work out?
I am not an inside type girl with the stinky, smelly community room where everyone leaves behind a trail of wet sweat on the equipment to prove they were in attendance. No sir. I am the outside let's-just-get-this-over-with type. I prefer to walk.
It has taken me some time to figure out a new route since moving into our new apt home last fall. No matter how I do it, somehow I end up climbing the last mile uphill-straight uphill. Today, there was a 25 mph wind in my face-walking uphill. For two whole miles I trudge it out, only to be reminded again why it is I girthed 375 pds only three years ago! Why? I HATE TO EXERCISE!
What is this "wall" I hear about? The only "wall" I know is what I silently refer to as the "weeping wall" along hole 9 of the golf course below where someday I will either beg a ride from a passing cart or they will find my chubby remains!
When is this euphoria supposed to hit? Uh...three years...walked off 215 pounds...still waiting...
I biked my first big ride for the year on Sunday afternoon. While Dave cruised along on his recumbent, I pedaled behind him all the while praying to God I'd make the halfway point without a cardiac episode. I have to confess that I have not purchased my trail pass for the year, so hey--I suppose once the ambulance shows up and the cops don't find the pass...there'll be a fine. Figures.
Anyway, regardless of my hatred of the daily workout...I shall be calm and carry on...complaining most of the way...uphill...did I mention that? yeah.
Walking has sustained me thus far and shall continue to do so into the foreseeable future. So hey, maybe I'll see you out chugging along. Just pretend you don't know me. I'm kind of ugly out there sweating off all my make-up!

See you soon!
Rhonda

Back To The Blog...

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Hey, I'm back! Been a long, long time.
2013 is shaping up to be quite the year at my house. That's my only excuse. Would you believe that the majority of the year has been spent in medical offices and hospitals sitting with family members or helping them at home? Am I a medical professional? No. Have I ever aspired to become a medical professional? Perhaps, then the reality of the inability to do math problems was an obstacle I finally decided I would never overcome so I gave it up.
Anyway, the good news is that I am now back to my normal life of writing, quilting and baking. The Quilter Cook is beginning to make a comeback here in Madison, so that's positive. I finished my youngest son's college graduation quilt BEFORE he walks across the stage at Ball State University next weekend, so hey that's an accomplishment, too. My re-writes are coming along with the Roseville novels, so there is that too. Besides all that I guess I have been the family "on-call" nurse.
So, this is just a little check-in to let you know I'll be around. Maybe not every day, but I'll try to pop up a few blogs a week.
Until then, pour yourself another mug of coffee and enjoy your day!
Rhonda

Did You Feed The Dog?

I have to first apologize to anyone who now has become emotionally attached to the blog because of the adorable golden retriever in the picture. I admit. I tried to entice you somehow--and thus, task achieved.

As a matter of fact, this blog has absolutely nothing whatsoever with dogs- real ones, anyway.

For the last 48 hours, I have been at the bedside of a family member who has undergone the fight of her life. My job has been to be supportive to her spouse and feed crushed ice chips to the patient upon request. Although I have never considered myself a caregiver, I have been able to shovel the tiny icy balls onto a slippery plastic spoon and balance it for a few precious seconds over into the patient's mouth-so there you go. I have skills. Proof.

It's interesting to be around someone in La La Land for a couple of days . I will admit that it is very stressful feeling helpless as the hours tick-tock around the clock. One has to find something to fill the mind to stay grounded and not run around screamingup and down the hospital hallways with your hands in the air. Naturally, I chose humor.

 The title for this blog stems from the patient turning to me during the wee hours of the morning asking "Did you feed the dog?" Uh, dog? What dog? If there was a dog to feed, it's gone unfed for some time. I haven't owned a dog in over ten years. The second I tried to inform my patient there was no dog in the house, she was "out."
 

Infection, fever and medication can really do a number on a person's thought processes. Out of the blue, questions are posed and answers are expected. It makes not one bit of difference what your response is, because once satisfied there's another question that follows.

 **Disclaimer***I know this patient well enough to know that she will not be upset by the posting of the following comments. As a matter of fact, she will find it to be a compliment that I have dedicated a whole blog today, so let's not panic. All is well.

Here's what we've laughed about so far:
" Who's the governor?"  Response: Um...Daniels.  "No, that's not it. Mark is here. He knows. Who is it?" Response from Mark " Let me look it up on my ipad." (By the time he's done, the patient is "out.") We still haven't looked it up.

Total silence in the room...visitors reading quietly...patient napping...when suddenly patient's eyes fly open " DING, DING! I'm up here!" Then...all visitors look at each other trying not to laugh. Before any response is given...patient is "out."  All visitors try to keep in the hysterical laughter until they all meet later for supper in the downstairs restaurant to relive the moment.

Hospital staff ask what day it is...patient answers "November 6th" ...uh, try again..."November 15th"....ok, what year is it?..."2003" ...one more guess?..."2003."
Who is this next to you? "It's Sarah." ..Sarah? they ask..."Yes, that's Sarah." ...Are you sure it isn't Rhonda? "No, it's Sarah. That's is NOT Rhonda!" ....ok, then...  I decided to make it easier on everyone and simply change my name. No big deal. You know, make it less confusing all around.

So, here we are. Patient has been upgraded, but the fear of a relapse remains very high.
Although it is still a very serious situation, we are all trying to keep our spirits up by finding something to laugh about every day. With the patient's help, we're achieving that goal without any problem at all!

Until next time,
Rhonda
a.k.a.  Sarah

We'll Leave The Light On For 'Ya!

...and it's Wednesday morning. Did you ever have one of those nights that seemed to last forever? It was about around 2am when I finally decided I could relax and go to sleep. The kid was safe at his apartment. All was well. I dare say, too many more of those kind of nights and I am sure to turn platinum gray by the age of 50.

Ok, so why the picture of the good looking kid? Well, let's turn the clock back about 24 hours...
Our youngest son Mark was on a college-sponsored trip in Richmond, VA. Without getting into too much unnecessary detail, let me just tell you that yesterday at this time he wasn't sure where he would end up by the end of the night. Would he make it back to Cleveland? Would he be sleeping in an airport terminal? Would the connecting flight to Indy be cancelled? He had no idea what to do, so naturally...he called his mom so I could worry about it.

For weeks now, we have planned for Mark to come home for Spring Break. Being the mean financially fiscal nearly-broke empty nesters that we are, we purchased Megabus tickets for Mark to jump on in his college town at 1:15am and arrive conveniently enough for us, at approximately 8:45am in Madison. Easy enough. Now, here's the catch. In order for this plan to work, all the planets in big sky overhead had to align at just the right time. What was so hard about that? And along came snowstorm SATURN!

We aren't immune to hair-raising Spring Break weeks. During our son's freshman year in college he was invited to go with a friend and his family to a beach house in Florida. They were far from the party scene, so nothing to be concerned about, right? Ok, well come to find out he and his buds spent one hot sticky afternoon stranded on the roof of a car down in an alligator-infested state park swamp waiting for AAA to show up while trying not to become Alligator Al's lunch below on the ground!

Listen, I have more stories where that came from. In his short time in Indianapolis, the kid was mugged, shot at and even lost a kneecap during a dodge ball game at a youth event at church. Yep, dodge ball. The ambulance came and it was a big affair--there's so many adventures I could share...and just might, but not today.

Ok, so as it turned out last night Mark made his connection from Richmond to Cleveland and then from Cleveland to Indy. He hopped into his car and drove in terrible snow, sleet and wind--in the dark--by himself--at 20 mph trying to meet the Megabus pick-up at 1:15am in Muncie, only to find it was cancelled five minutes after he FINALLY arrived back at his apartment at 12:45am!

Has this drama ended yet? We are the Mossners. We were born for adventure! As I type this blog, Mark is determined to come home and is on his way back to Indy to hit the Interstate and head north in his own car to Madison! AUGH!!! This is why I quit after two kids!!!

So, I suppose you're wondering why he just didn't wait for the next bus? Well, come to find out Megabus decided March 6th was their last pick up in Muncie, Indiana. Forever.  Naturally.

Rhonda

The Very Best Of Intentions...

Yep folks, another month has passed by since I have blogged. Really? Hard to believe that, but that's life. I recently asked a friend of mine why I make my life so complicated? His response was that I am too busy living life than preparing for it. Fair enough.

So, let's see...what has kept me away? Hmm..ok, how about home organization projects? That was a biggie. I decided that since we have lived in this apartment home now going on five months it was time to decorate the walls. If you have been reading my blog, you already are familiar with my method of decorating. I simply find a hammer and nail and go at it. Studs? Who needs to find a wall stud? Pound in a nail, hang your stuff and move on with your life.

Now, with that being said some of you in the audience will find great humor in hearing my next story. Last Monday, I got a great idea for giving a real homemade touch to my small, yet cozy dining room. I decided to use my somewhat large collection of tart tins in a cute design on the wall along with a couple of vintage baking tools and pans. This idea was stolen from a booth at a local antique mall here in Madison. Although I am too cheap to buy the vintage pie tins at $10 each, I will say it was very charming.

Next, came the question of how I was going to attach these little tins to the wall? The display I had seen was temporary, so I couldn't use that method, so I decided I'd use double stick tape. You know, unpeel one side and stick it to the tin and then unpeel the other side and slap it up on the wall. Plus, wouldn't my hubby be happy? No Nails! Keep in mind this is the foamy kind of tape, not the see-thru crafty kind that comes off easily. That was important to me. I want the display to last awhile.

You should have just seen how beautiful my wall turned out! I admired it all day every time I walked in and out of the kitchen! I couldn't believe my creative talent! Why, I just knew that people would be asking me how I came up with such a great idea!

The fun began about 2am on Tuesday morning. Dave and I nearly jumped out of our skins when in the silence of night most of the tins decided that they had their time in the limelight and began to crash to the floor-well, first they crashed to the table, then rolled off onto the floor. CRASH! CLANG! CRASH! This went on all night. I got up to try to cut my losses by just taking the rest down myself. NOPE! They were stuck, and I mean stuck--to the wall. Well, yes-stuck until I crawled back into bed and snuggled back into my cozy quilt cocoon and tried to doze off! Then, the routine started all over again!

Believe it or not, I still have seven tins stuck up on the wall holding their own. However, it won't be long before they too, tumble to the floor...a sad demise.

So, listen folks-when I am not blogging rest assured...I am busy. I am not just sitting around here whistling Dixie...I have plans...and great intentions of doing something productive every day!

Rhonda

Really? Right Here, Right Now?

Ok, so truth be told I had another idea for a blog today. However, while telling this tale to my husband he insisted that I share it with my fans on the Internet. It's going to be a bit tricky not mentioning the name of the store where this all took place last weekend. I am still waiting for the funds from the Roseville entities to roll in, so I have to be careful not to get sued while I am still an unemployed writer, but here goes...all right, it's the store at the mall where someone claims to have a "secret" but upon entering you quickly realize there won't be too many "secrets" left after purchasing some of the selections on their shelves.

Now that's settled, here we go. So, this adventure took place before the purchase of the Christmas cards-on our 28th wedding anniversary trip to Milwaukee last weekend. I know you must wonder why it is all of these things happen to me? I'm Rhonda. It's inevitable.

So, there I was browsing around the store, when a salesgirl asked if she could help me. "Nope. Just browsing" I said as my eyes became locked in on an undergarment display with a big $15.99 price sign hanging over the top overfilled with all kinds of lace goodies--MY SIZE!

She of course knew I was an easy sell. "How long has it been since you've been professionally measured here?" She asked this straight-faced. Seriously?

"Uh, I have lost over 200 pds over the last few years. I have been "measured" quite a few times." I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Boy, I was really hoping she had something more important to do than to wait on me. Listen, at 48-I feel a little out of place in there, but hey-I am trying to complete a bucket list--and buying some articles in there is on The List!

"Well, we insist that we measure you for our garments. All stores are different and it is our opinion that employees in other big name stores are not as thoroughly trained as our girls are here. We go through rigorous training and many hours of class time to work back in the fitting room. Hey, you know what? I'll just call a gal to come out on the floor. She can measure you right here! " She was very serious about this measurement business and boy, just a little too excited about it for me. She was wearing one of those headphone deals and summoned a "professional fitter" before I could run. I knew this was a blog waiting to happen.

 In a second, there SHE was! THE PROFESSIONAL FIT SPECIALIST, standing in front of me. Of course, she was a 12 on the Perfect Woman Scale. Forget 10-she passed that a million years ago. She was a tall 6 ft blonde, perfect hair, perfectly pressed clothes, perfect teeth, perfect nails, perfect stiletto heels and perfect perfume-which I bet she got with her employee discount, no doubt. Around her neck she wore a perfect pink and white measuring tape. Oh God...she was intent on doing this thing.

"I can measure you right here, if you'd like" the specialist said she whooped the tape measure over her head and the my salesgirl took her lead. They both reached out for my shopping bags and unloaded me from all my belongings and placed them on the floor in front of me. "Now, I'll need to just put this around you to get your number..." said the specialist as she flashed her too pearly whites and motioned for me to raise my arms so she could get the tape properly placed.

"Uh...wait. Really?" Yep, can we say AWKWARD? Where was Dave when I needed him? Out in the Food Court reading his stupid magazine! Doggone it!

I really wanted to buy a couple of those articles on that display. The regular price was over $50 each--and to get them for only $15.99? Uh...uh...OK! So, there I was...getting measured. In broad daylight...in a very, very overcrowded store...and feeling a bit...um...self-conscious about the whole ordeal...but I did what I was told and raised my arms.

Now, I have failed to mention that during this whole conversation there were two men with their female companions browsing the exact sales display I spoke of earlier. The  second the salesgirl started flapping her jaws about the training involved in the working in the fitting room, the men's heads shot up and looked right at me. Bless their hearts...it was all they could do not to turn and watch this whole thing unfold before them...let's just say, I knew what they were thinking..."I wonder where I can sign up for that job?" (How do I know? That's what Dave said!)

Ok, now give me a break! Have some class will you? There's a girl getting her chest measured here!

Well, you'll be happy to know that I am a very satisfied customer, because of buying the right size garments no doubt. Yes, plural, as in more than one. I want to be sure that after all of that--um... gawking and drama...that I wasn't going to have to go back in there for a re-do.

Although, I must say it was worth it...they are well trained, just as the salesgirl said. I haven't been this well...um...fitted... in a very long time!

So, happy shopping! If you see my friend Victoria--tell her thanks! I'll be back-although probably not to the Milwaukee store. I'll stick to Madison--thanks.

Rhonda

The Mossner's 28th Anniversary

Listen folks, this is exactly why I don't drink decaf coffee. My life is too crazy. I need the kick from caffeine. I mean, hey I'm not addicted to it or anything. Yes, I will admit to everyone here and now on the Internet that as of this exact moment I have a total of seven, count them seven, pounds of coffee on my countertop, in my freezer or in my cupboard. No, wait. Eight. I bought a special can from a local roaster the other day where I can get 20% off each pound when I bring it in for a refill. All I have to do is remember that can when I want to refill my stash. I need to take in my designer can that conveniently holds-you guessed it. One pound. Ok, that will never happen in million years. Never. I can see that empty can rolling around the trunk of my car in only a few short weeks.

Anyhoo, I've been off-line for a couple of weeks due to some interesting events that have taken place in my life. First, there was my husband who suddenly had a back issue and needed 24 hour nursing assistance from me-a definite non-nursing type. It's not like I lack in compassion or sympathy, don't get me wrong. I just end up wincing and making facial expressions and some verbal ones too-that really in the long run just don't seem to help my patient. For instance, when my husband winced, I winced. When he started to cry from pain-so did I. So, it was a little frustrating there for a couple of weeks with both of us on the verge of...I don't know what.

Then, about the time my husband started bragging about how much better he was feeling MY back went out-or I pulled some muscles or did something stupid while bending over to rescue an orphan sock off the floor. This was last Thursday. I was in a whole lot of hurt, let me tell you. If I had gone to ER and they asked me where on the scale of pain I would guess my level to be at...I would have asked for a big black marker and wrote on the back of my chart a big 50!

The real fun started when wouldn't you know it, our 28th anniversary rolled around-this was last Saturday. In all the years we've been married THIS was the year for pre-paying for the weekend. Naturally, being good Lutherans we couldn't allow that money to be wasted so we did what any disabled couple would do. We helped each other get dressed, fed and drove off for a fun-filled weekend in...wait for it...MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN!

With other activities um...limited... due to our health issues, we decided to stretch our legs a bit at the local shopping mall next to our hotel. Two hours later, while Dave sat and read Sports Illustrated magazine I found the best deal of my life! Christmas cards from American Greetings for 50 cents a box! I quickly snatched up six and ran out to brag to Dave about how much money I had saved! Boy, was he happy! He was especially excited when he flipped over the boxes to read the inscriptions only to find they had been written in FRENCH! FRENCH? Yep, French my friends...so for those of you on our Christmas list, you now can look forward to a more cultural greeting this year...and the next two-as I am assuming we will conveniently be "dropped" from a few holiday lists after the first time around...

Then, on Sunday to end our eventful weekend together at the Sheraton, we drove home to Madison in fear of the great storm Magnus-which really, wasn't all that "great" after all the hype.

So, now I'm back once again--living my crazy life and almost recovered from the back problem. Almost. I do think it will take maybe just one more pot of caffeinated coffee to be sure...I have to work on drinking that can down...I wouldn't want to miss my chance on another great bargain of 20% off!

Rhonda