Day One

My low carb, good fat, something green live-it!

Day one

So my dear has decided to go on a diet. I hate that word. I prefer Liveo-it! Doesn’t that sound happier? He decided that it was time to get to a goal physique…

Well, that means I have to help. Or perhaps that I get to help.

First of all thaere is the 68 pages meal plan and recipe guide to read. Bother the reading, I’ll just make stuff up as I go. It can’t be that hard to modify my cooking knowledge, can it? Really, I’, the one that made all of our “favorites” through the years. If I could learn how to stretch the budget to feed a family on all those cheap carbs, then certainly I can teach us to eat those herbs and greens from the greenhouse and get rid of the bread fat in my mid-body region.

So since we have those greeh things growing in the greenhouse, maybe we should eat them everyday. How about every meal? So let’s gave my Live-w! A name…

“Low carbohydrates, good fats, something gree daily live-its!”

And that is way too long, so it is m ‘low carb good fat something green’ live-it!’ Diet. Doesn’t that sound tasty, long, confusing, and wonderful. Eating that something green daily will be the easy part. Finding the good fats rather than the bad ones, might be more challenging, but the hardest will be the low carbohydrates. My favorite breakfast is cereal. It’s fast, you know, break-fast. I take the word quite literal.

Day Two

Well, I blew it big time!

Breakfast at my daughter’s was oatmeal. There isn’t a single grain in the entire grocery list that my dear paid for. So I blew it. Lunch was a little better. I drank my swiss chard and carrot smoothie and ate a cup of gumbo, which was mostly meat and tomato sauce with some hot spices. But then it all fell apart again when she made oatmeal chocolate chips cookies that just jumped right into my mouth. It was so tempting. I entered right into the sinful thing, twice. Supper was best.

We learned how to trade out the potato for more greens. Broccoli, asparagus, and steak made it very good. At least I feel like we won on the diet for that meal. Day two has some success.

I wonder how day three will go?

Quite badly as a matter of fact. We haven’t gotten any of the groceries on the 68 page kito diet.

And then there is the grocery list for the plan. Thank goodness I do not have to go get the groceries.

Breakfast was cereal, lunch was a sugar flavor added yogurt. Afternoon snack was a bagel with cream cheese, and supper is beef stew with bread pudding, cheese and crackers. The only thing on the kito grocery list is cheese, beef and eggs. All those carbs. Well, no wonder that extra weight is hugging my middle so much that it won’t let go!

Here goes for day four!

I’ll probably live it whether I keep the die it or not!

Two peas in a pod

Or maybe just add one

Why do they call it a pod of whales?

And a pea pod?

They have absolutely nothing in common. Or do they?

Having too much time to think is probably the worst part of not having a demanding occupation. So while writing requires a lot of thinking, it’s that dull, dead space in between inspiration that I’m writing about now. Like when there is no grand thought and the world seems to going around without me. Many times I feel like Rip Van Wrinkle in a slow motion film while the rest of the people buzz about like bees collections pollen and food for the queen. What purpose is there is simple living?

Then, just like a wild flower, some great idea rises out of the wilderness to meet me. Here’s a sample.

We recently bought a gold wing motorcycle and a small trailer. The trailer will be a dog carrier, but right now it is just a flatbed. We have looked at modifications of dog-huts and pictures until we were bored with looking. Then all of sudden after an unusually warm day when the asthma kept me from physical activity, a thought popped into my brain. Our dog’s name is Honey. We should build a Honey-Wagon for the little “poopy” pup to ride in. A Honey Wagon! It was so funny. Then we began looking at barrel built trailers and found one painted like a bee. Oh girl! That was really funny.

So a Honey Wagon it is.

Today’s snow storm has the mutt and I stuck indoors. We have done the dishes, the chores, the laundry and decided upon a baby blanket pattern to crochet. Maybe. Now what?

My thoughts returned to the pod thing.

A pod cast. We should listen to a podcast. What does that have to do with a little pink whale on a blanket and a greenhouse with pea pods (never mind that the aphid spray killed the pea plant). So I’ll just have to find some hilarious comedian on pod-cast to occupy my thoughts!

We opted for a book on my Talking Book Library about rescue dogs. This one is about Greg, the transport trucker. And then I am back to surfing the web for a fur baby rescue or something. What a waste of time. Maybe I should go slide down the snow pile with Honey. Or make coffee. Yeah, make coffee.

So two peas in a pod, my husband and I sit buried in our screen time: he doing his work from home, me typing endless nothingnesses. The little skeins of yarn sit in expectation of an adorable whale blanket no pod visible yet, and the podcast goes unheard.

Today is a snow day in South Dakota. Perhaps we’ll eat those snow peas from the freezer for supper.

Ode to Chivalry and Stupidity

When not to stay home

Yep, my husband is a re-born Knight from the Middle Ages. Nothing will stop him in his tracks. He is like a bloodhound on scent when he is on a mission of kindness.

As a young lad, he and his brother out-foxed the coyote, the deer, the pheasant and the snowstorms. There wasn’t a school snow day that they didn’t go hunting. Rather playing in the outdoors was not a sport as seen in the winter Olympic. Weather, wind, snow, and ice were just an excuse to trap some poor animal trying to beat the elements.

Not to be called an anti-hunting activist, I am thankful that my great white (snow covered) hunter can save my pets from preying beasts.

Knighthood and kindness has not been killed. This is proof that chivalry still exists every time old-man-winter tears his ugly head. The blowing snow has never been a foe to my beloved.

Until last Monday night.

Stupidity

Stupidity and chivalry really are synonymous.

Okay, maybe that was a little to blunt. Like the edge of that fish fillet knife buried in the tackle box in the closet. In all of our married years, i don’t think it has ever been out of it’s leather sheath. Oh, well. If there were no mosquitoes in the fishing world maybe fishing would be more appealing. My poor dear really hates mosquitoes. That’s why winter sport hunting has been more fun.

However, the last time there was a license on the table was for the Canadian whites that come through. And if I had any patience for soaking the wild meat longer and making it more taste worthy, perhaps my love would have brought more bunting home for his little ones.

So there, you have the old hunting fail stories. He and his brother used to have a lot fun going after critters. When livelihood comes into challenge because the critters are after the livestock, suddenly it’s not so fun anymore. We have lost lambs, ewes, ducks, geese, chickens, pigs, piglets, and kittens to wild coyote or fox. There just aren’t as many young teen males interested in late night rendezvous to go after a coyote or wild dog. There are times we can hear the coyotes calling to each other over their food.

So we took the blizzard warning quite seriously. Until it quit snowing. Then it just seemed right to go help scoop out the elderly and the invalid. Not in that order of course. The only reality in the whole thing, is that after scooping himself out of the snow bank, my dear hubby was feeling quite elderly and invalid!

There is a little book that we bought many years ago that was one of the girls favorite winter reads. The title is “The Snowplow.”

An ode to the evenings true knight in armor would definitely involve the sound of a Diesel engine and the impressive sound of the snow being chewed up and spewed out like a dinosaur-ish volacanic monster!

These last few days recovering from the shoveling has taken longer that it did years ago. I use to shovel out my own foxhole in a snowdrift just for fun. Now it took me three days to get an adequate path to my greenhouse that doesn’t include snow in my toes by the time I get there. Recovery to me is never about just resting and watching television. My preferred mode is crochet and a book to listen to while sitting with a warm buddy next to me. Thank goodness with Honey’s sprained toe/paw, she has been more willing to help keep me warm.

The above project is one that began nearly four years ago. I finally decided to just finish it as a set. Fingerless mittens, visor hat with buttons, and a turtle neck warmer should come in handy for the next blizzard event. Perhaps, Monday nights events will keep us closer to the cabin next time..

Four paws-minus one

Hop-along–Cassidy

We have a three legged critter for a few days. I was so worried I made Dad take her to the urgent pet care. It’s just a bad sprain. She’s suppose to rest for three days and take her anti-inflammatory meds at bedtime.

Honestly it hasn’t slowed her down much. She’s just not jumping three feet in the air now. Haha. She’s a little more “clingy” than usual, so we’ll use the opportunity to teach her the word ‘heel.’

When life asks for a pause, how do we take it?

“What is crooked cannot be made straight, and what is lacking cannot be counted.” Ecclesiastes‬ ‭1:15‬ ‭ESV‬‬

Each year as the New Year comes around, January brings with it the bitter winds of winter that demand a different lifestyle. For some people this month is for puzzle solving. For some people it’s a month of catching up on all the episodes of an old favorite television show. For others it’s a chance to read books while laying under layers of blankets. For me, it’s a variety of things.

Reading is not as easily done anymore with the lack of giant print books. One of these days i might actually get that library app on the iPad and read some old books that I enjoyed. But I do have a favorite Bible reading schedule that returns to mind this time of year. There are several reading schedules that are quite simple to remember. Here they are:

Ecclesiastes has twelve chapters. One for each month of the year. It’s easy to remember what month number it is, if you read the first chapter of this book near the first day of the month. Each chapter is full of wisdom and great things to contemplate.

Proverbs has 31 chapters. These can be read in succession with each day of the month. So even if you miss a day of reading, picking the chapter for the day, eventually you will read all the chapters at least a few times throughout the year. It is also packed full of wisdom and common sense.

Psalms has a little more complicated reading pattern. This may require a bit of math! Reading a chapter each day, there are 150 chapters, so it will take five months to complete the book. Or you can read five each day just jumping through the books in multiples of five for the day. Another way is as follows: today is the 20th, read chapters 20, 50, 80, 110, and 140. The 25th day would be five additions of thirty. It’s not too hard. I make a cheat sheet marker of 150 and just cross off the already read.

Gospels are Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. I try to read them by seasons as follows:

winter is for Mark, because it’s the shortest and daylight is short. Spring is for John because I love his account of the Easter Resurrection story. Summer is for Matthew. And Fall is for Luke because I want to read his account of the nativity several times before the holidays.

There are many different reading schedules for the sciptures. Some people use apps or a 365 Bible. I just really enjoy being creative with my reading patters.

While hop-along (the dog) and I spend the days in a more restful mode, I also like to inventory my yarn piles. But on a nice day, i don’t neglect to get some fresh air. So it was a pleasant surprise to find a ball of thread out in the yard while I marched to and fro picking up sticks and other debris. I decided at that point that my puppy was a thief. The thread was none the worse for it’s trip in the elements. I threw away about a yard of the outer strand. Must be time to work on a doily again, I thought.

My crooked nose cannot be straightened. And the above verse came to mind shortly after I began vainly studying my new look. The swelling has finally abetted, and now the sinuses are trying to discover the new breathing tube! Apparently I have begun sawing the logs through the night. I even woke myself up the other morning.

When something is missing it simply cannot be counted. And though i inventoried my yarn supply and pulled out some projects to finish, I hadn’t even missed the ball of yarn the little thief took. Kind of makes me wonder what else she has stolen. We are well aware that she ate the roll of stamps shortly before Christmas. There were only two left to count that remained stuck to her paw. We have really no idea how many stamps that she ate, fo the lacking cannot be counted!

Four paws minus one, makes our eight month old doodle a bit of a silly noodle right now. Watching her hop isn’t easy, but it’s kind of hard not to laugh when she “acts” like life is misery. She had no sympathy for my broken nose. I took her to the urgent care for a sprained paw but wouldn’t go to the urgent care for my broken nose. Go figure that one out.

The long mile

Road trip memoir

While walking the section today with our overly energetic golden doodle Honey, my thoughts fell into rhythm with my steps.  We are the only residence on our section.  There are two neighbors that live next to us, one to the west and one to the north.  So excepting the harvest activity it is rather a quiet walk.  Two grain trucks, one pickup and one combine greeted us.  Okay their drivers did.  Because our house lies in the middle of the section mile, the first corner is an easy jaunt.  The trek to the next corner southeast of us is also easy, because of the creek bed that breaks the walk up with its rolling terrain.  The long mile is the one in the middle.  Heading north on the east gravel road always gets me a little down.  It seems so long because there is really nothing to break up the distance in topography.  Looking off to the west the view of our acreage never seems to change.  It is a long mile away as the bird flies for the whole corner to corner march.  I find that my mind tends to be plagued with thoughts of “have I missed the turn” and “where is that hayfield anyways?” and “just put one foot in front of the other.”

The long mile is the one in the middle.

With the first suggestion of a road trip to Ohio and Pennsylvania to see my niece and nephew (my two elder sister’s first children) my anxiety over the trip nearly caused me to say no thanks.  I am not the best traveler for various reasons and sitting prolonged periods of time is not usually my favorite thing.  Crochet helps the sitting seem less endless.  

Then when my rib healed in it’s allotted timeframe, I decided I had no excuses.  Besides it would give me a captive audience for my entertaining mindset.  As a child I clearly remember mealtime as the opportune moment to crack jokes and tell stories.. I was always the final person to leave the table.  I took my role back immediately upon the first meal break from the vehicle.  While it was mentioned that perhaps the best suit for a birthday party was a birthday suit, I quipped in response “One must live life with no regrets, and that might be regretful.” Whereupon the eldest of daughters at the table nearly choked on her sandwich in laughter.  We had decided that what was spoken or confessed in the vehicle ought to stay in the vehicle.  The accountant in the family quickly proclaimed that the “birthday suit” conversation had not happened in the vehicle.  Bummer.  The whole scenario of four women traveling together soon became family “trip-tweets” (group messages) that divulged the whole secrets of women in the same family taking a road trip together.

The tattle tale was the child in the middle.

Collecting things has always been our mother’s joy on journeys.  Whether if its rocks, leaves, acorns or maps, she can always find something to collect.  Because the trip was an ‘on-a-mission’ trip to see the first and second grandchildren, and the first great-granddaughter, there was no time for the number outs antique malls, state parks, river views, or shopping establishments that we sped past.  However, because a driver so loves backseat navigators, my mother had to collect a map from each state that we entered.  At one point on the road when the rest stop did not have a map, there was a half purposed visit to the rest area on the return trip, “Because maybe they’ll have a map of this state here.”

Geography was fun for me once.  But these days the maps are mostly in my head.l My eyesight doesn’t make it very easy to view the map, so the visual just remains in the modem..And because I never drive anywhere I refuse to learn my google map app on my phone.  It saves me the trouble of having to watch for things that I can’t see anyways.  Like street signs and road signs that aren’t boldface type!  At one city during the ride, my eldest sister, who did all the driving, asked sister number two in the front passenger seat to pull up her phone navigation so that she would have a second set of directions.  My mother thought that it was quite vascinating that though there had previously been four women in the car, now there were six women.  And add to that the fact tat these last two entrants, Ms. Garmin, and Miss Google couldn’t seem to agree.  Later in in the drive through Pittsburg, she declared them to be fighting and our trip had been so peaceful until that moment of disagreement.  Well, we thought it was all pretty funny except for the downtown slum passageway out of the city.  


The best part of the trip was the middle.

Visiting the niece, nephew, his wife, and the grand-niece proved to be quite worthy of the effort.  The stories of our adventures will be told and retold through the years to come.  The joy of the nieces lives and the zest for busy-ness with a two year old will keep the tales going.  When you have four generations in one room it is always the youngest that gets the most attention.  And her busy little mind can make all the adults suddenly speak “toddler!”

The long hours of visiting and the baby of the family joining by face-time will not be forgotten.  And though the long miles of the the middle days were hard on the body, the comrade rice of family togetherness was worth the sore backs.  Having common bonds makes the togetherness even more vi….  Our family has been blessed to all be of the same mind in Christ also.  The daily devotions, prayers for meals, and safety, and the conversation that kept our minds on things above were special moments.  Though we took all interstates, highways and avoided toll-roads, this poem that I wrote to music a number of years ago seems to fit this memoir of our trip.

The Road Less Traveled

There;s a road less traveled, And yet it leads to more.

A journey full of blessings, and the end so much more.

Jesus, Lord, and Master, Savior, King and Friend,

I will follow when you call me Knowing eternity has no end.

Oh, the road less traveled  Is narrow and unsure

Difficult the passage. Of those who’ve gone before

Jesus, Lord and master, Savior, King and Friend

I will follow where you lead me. Knowing eternity has no end.

The journey has a Shepherd. Counselor and Lord

My Shiled and My Comfort. Deliverer and more

Jesus, Lord and Master, Savior, King and Friend,

A know that You are with me on this journey that has no end.

There’s a road less traveled And yet it leads to more

The journey full of blessings And the end so much more

—Yvonne Clark, October 29, 2993


From head to toe and now ribs, oh no!

The daily surprise of RP

Everyone loves surprises, right? Well if you are talking about birthdays or gifts of course. If you are considering accidents and natural disasters NO!  

Living with retinitis pigmentosa involves an element of surprise that for the most part includes chaos and a lot of spilled milk!  The first body parts to suffer are the toes and the head. Unless the person with RP wears  steel- toe boots there’s a sure factor that there will be some broken toes.  

The funniest broken toe problem that I had was when I grabbed to left shoes to wear at church and didn’t check them until church. On top of that we were headed to take our eight year old to camp after that. So it was a Kmart stop on the way to Des Moines for a pair of flip-flops so that little toe could be free to be fat as it pleased! I remember walking through Kmart barefooted and wondering if they would kick us out!

RP loves foreheads, faces and noses. The greetings to those unsuspecting places can occur daily when one is tired. The not so funniest moment for me was when the teeter totter kissed me right between the eyes!  The whack could be heard throughout the whole acreage.  I had picked up a snake and was going to scarce my husband with it when the end of the see-saw bit me pretty hard. I flew back and landed on my back knocking the breath out of me. Should have been on video. We could have won with that one!  I broke my nose that time.  

Kitchen cabinets should roll up like roll-top desks. Who ever decided hinges were a universal cabinet feature did not have RP.  Every time we moved to a new house I learned by the school of hard-knocks about the cabinet doors. When will we ever learn to shut those doors right away?  If you have RP and live with someone that does not-the kitchen can be a war-zone of dishwasher doors and such. I have a permanent dent in one shin from the dishwasher door.  Uffda!

I use to claim that I never broke any bones. Well it just wasn’t as noticeable. The toe or the nose doesn’t get a cast for your friends to sign. My sister broke her arm going down the slide as a child. I remember helping her get dressed. That was the era of girls shirts that buttoned in back. Really we had to help each other before the casted arm. Not sure why I remember it especially as a casted arm thing. 

My grandmother was the first family member to have the degenerative eyesight. I don’t remember that she ever broke anything until her age related osteoporosis began to affect her life.  However I have an uncle with the disease that broke his leg during his career from a stair step fall. It was a pretty bad break.  The story helped me to be quite cautious of stairways. His hanging back two steps behind other walking companions has kept him from further accidents. He has not adopted a trusty walking-cane yet. Never understood why. 

My father also inherited the disease. His numerous broken bones began quite early in his twenties. But his cowboy behavior was the beginning of many woes. The more dangerous approach for him has been using a cane, a GPS device and walking in an old community with various pitfalls and oddball curbs. His favorite saying is “Concrete doesn’t give!” (Meaning budge, move, or dent.) Bones are no match for concrete. The hard cement wins every time.  We are all a little glad his GPS will not hold a charge anymore. The hospital doesn’t need anymore of his hard earned money. 

So how did this rib-thing happen anyhow? I was headed back to bed when the doggie gate I had placed in front of the door greeted me and the rug under my left foot slipped backwards. My ribs hit the gate with full hug force.  The blow took away my breathe and the rest is history that I don’t want to repeat. Needless to say, I have already planned to give the gates away. My memory doesn’t serve me any better than my eyesight, so tripping triumphs can’t exist in my home anymore!  

The puppy that caused me to think that I needed the gates in the first place has been spending more time outdoors. She may have learned something about compassion from the whole experience. Gentle, and sit NEXT to me are now part of our vocabulary. 

Those eyes! Usually what people say when looking at a gorgeous baby. Or blue eyes that are deep pools of water. Well, for those of us with RP those eyes are sometimes not very helpful. So getting a dog that will truly be a “watch” dog is a great goal of mine. Teaching “those eyes” to be my eyes might just break me-literally!  I sure hope we can learn from our mistakes and keep my home a safe-zone from now on.  

Rainy day projects

Not just for children

When the drip-drops woke me up this morning I knew getting out the door would be something like pulling a stubborn donkey to his feet.  Honey sits down and digs in her haunches at the first sign of raindrops. I thought I was allergic to rain.  She is worse!


So today her food went into a mini-pop bottle. That kept her busy -oh, about five minutes!  Then I was quite tempted to give her a sleeping pill so that I could go back to bed.  Not really, just tempting, that’s all. 

The dishes are all finally washed from our family gathering on Sunday. I know okay, I know I am am really lazy if it takes me two days. But the meat dish had juice in it to take to the cats in the barn. And I kept forgetting. I only feed them once a day, it wouldn’t be fair to take it down at a different time. 

So the dishes are done and the cookies are made. Bother, now I have more dishes to do!  What’s next?  Rainy day project lists are always for little kids. What about me? Can’t I have a rainy day list?

Most people go clean a closet or do some baking or paint the dining room.  Perhaps the best option for me is to just clean the counters off!  Cleaning isn’t very fun though. And anything that I do on a rainy day HAS to be fun.  I use to curl up with a talking book and crochet. For hours…  since the chiropractor told me I have to take more breaks, I really haven’t gotten any crochet projects done. It takes hours-hello.

The cookies are made and I didn’t even snitch one. Yet. So now it’s back to the cleaning list. I did get the floor in the bedroom swept, with a little honey-help. She ate the lid to some container. I threw it away after coaxing her to give it up for a treat. That wasn’t easy. I mean sweeping the floor. This crazy RP gets me dizzy often as I loose my place in the room. Luckily after t sweeps the  dust pan   was clean on the third swipe. 

Rainy days are meant for inside activities. Playing hall-fetch didn’t last very long either, so now that the sun came out it is time to go get our feet wet again. I really don’t like wet feet. So forgive me for this rubber boos  and shorts fashion statement. 

Now that I have spent the morning writing perhaps I should actually make that list. Let’s see…

To all those with a real diagnosis o ADHD  my apologies for this distracted by a four month old puppy writing. And good luck on that list!