No joke...egg yolk!

I heard on the news this morning that one of the fastest growing epidemics facing the United States is obesity.
And the area that wins the distinction of the very worst (or very best if you look at it as number one is a winner winner chicken dinner) is......
The Smoky Mountain region,
Home of Dolly Pardon.
I visited there this summer and I do have to say that I felt rather comfortable.
I remarked to my husband as we traipsed through Dollywood that I did feel tinier than the bulk (no pun intended) of the people.
It was a satisfying conclusion as I nibbled on my foot long corn dog with fresh cut and fried shoestring potatoes which were peeled right in front of me. (that was their selling point for me.)
The problem is I cannot just live in Dollywood.
Dolly herself once had a weight problem that she has conquered. She is a tiny little thing now. She said that she leaves half of her food for the angels as their portion. My angels must have felt downright starved up until now.
But I have turned over a new leaf.
Well it is an old leaf that was carelessly tossed aside and kicked to the curb.
I joined the YMCA.
I am riding a recumbent bike 5 days a week.
Me and all of the other people over the age of 70. (but that is a blog for another day.)
And I am working on giving the angel's more of their fare share.
Wish me luck.

Side note: Every worker in Dollywood is over the age of 70. I have NEVER seen so many gainfully employed senior citizens in all of my life. As I waited in line at the corn dog shack I observed 5 senior citizens crammed into a space elbow to dry elbow no larger than my spare bathroom, sweating and peeling and frying. They did not appear happy. I told Mr. T that there had to be something better than this for our elderly friends. And I found out there is. Down the path from the corn dog hut was the Sweet shoppe. It was air conditioned and the employees toughest task was to sort the salt water taffy. That is where you want to be when you work in Dollywood. The corn dog shack must be where you are sent to be punished.

Warning: This post starts out sad but ends with gratitude

I told myself I wouldn't do it!
I agreed with myself that there would be no more
Poor me, I miss my son posts
Or it's hard to be a mother of a missionary.
Wah Wah somebody call the "Wah"mbulance.
Sorry.
But it kinda ends with a moral of sorts.
So you make the call.
You can continue to read
or
just push the little red x in the box in your upper right hand corner.
So I guess you decided to stay.
I waited for my email this morning that comes
every monday from Central America.
Guatemala to be exact.
I had some troubling feelings the day before that I kept shrugging off.
But to be honest I am prone to my spidey sense tingling too often anyway.
This time I was right on the money.
He is sick
He has fever.
No parasite but I think fever bothers me more than parasites.
He was made a zone leader a few weeks ago and was describing how it was a lot more work,
but that he loved it
was humbled by it.
I think he may have overdone it a little.
Of course my mind races...
Typhoid
Dengue Fever
Infection
Quiet down mind....Fear is my enemy....I will not give in.
Too late.
So I did what I had decided I should do when I get like this
Keep busy.
I went with my Peanut to work out at the gym.
I had promised myself that I would do that everyday.
For myself
and my husband and kids.
I then spent the rest of the day with my daughter.
Luckily she was in a talkative mood.
She talked about everything...school, boys, exercise, college, doubt, testimony, family, food, friends.
I listened and listened and listened
and thanked my lucky stars that I had that time with her to talk about
everything and nothing
and hug her tightly.
I will do that with my Elder again too.
only it will not be filled with talking.
It might be playing a video game or looking at the pictures from Guatemala
or shopping for the latest technology or just being in the same room
But you can bet on one thing.
There will be hugging!
Thanks for not clicking the x in the red box.
Thanks for listening.

The Up side of Aging

I was not always the wife that I am now.
Not that I am a perfect wife now but like expensive wines and cheese I think I have improved with age.
At least when it comes to football.
Have I told you that Mr. T loves college football?
I could probably list on one hand the things that Mr. T LOVES...
I feel confident that I am high on that list,
but football definitely comes pretty closely behind.
He was a great player in high school and was offered a scholarship to BYU
where we met as freshmen.
He gave it up when after returning from his mission,
He married me.
And we went to Houston to live.
When we were first married I admit to being a little jealous of the time and attention he gave to his beloved football.
I was jealous of anything that took his attention off of me.
School, Work, church,
and football.
He bought season tickets every year to the U of H cougars.
Most seasons they....for lack of a better word....stunk!
That didn't matter.
He was a true loyal fan.
I started to resent this love a little less when he started the tradition of taking the two oldest children with him to the games,
Leaving me with only one child which seemed like a vacation.
He didn't have to do that and I am sure there were times at the stadium that he wished he hadn't.
But he never complained.
Even when they accidently flung a cheese covered jalapeno at a burly man a few rows down.
(That is one of their favorite U of H game memories. It still makes them laugh)
Then he started taking all three.
Unfortunately none of them really developed or shared the love of football that their Dad has,
but I know they treasure the memories of a Dad who shared his time with them.
Now that they are grown there is an empty place to fill.
(Did I mention that I do NOT like watching sports or large crowds)
Now here is the miracle of aging.....
I love this U of H man so much
That I now accompany him to his beloved Cougar games.
And when around April or May and he begins his countdown with an enormous smile on his face.
"14 more weeks until football season"
I must admit that I smile too.
How can you dislike something that makes someone you love so much, so flippin happy?
I know I can't.
Also I figured out a way to combine our interests. He watches and yells and cheers and I take pictures....
A true match made in heaven.

Anemia....I kinda miss it.

This is the face of anemia.
Sonic Ice....purchased two bags at a time
I couldn't get enough of it.....
I was up to 6 bags a week
10 pounds each.
Chew Chew Crunch Crunch
Scandalous!
It's a condition called pica and is a symptom of anemia
along with extreme fatigue.
Worry not dear readers.... I am being treated.
After being finally correctly diagnosed with anemia and taking iron three times a day
I am cured or at least on my way.
I do have more energy....much more energy
And I think that I am definitely happier
But.....
I kinda miss it.
There were some benefits that I never realized until now.
1. Loss of appetite.....I was never hungry. I never felt like I needed to eat. I could fast on Sundays with the best of them and piously feel superior.
2. No mosquito bites.....In the three years I calculate that I was pretty anemic I never had one mosquito bite. Isn't that amazing. The mosquitos are big enough down here to saddle up and ride and I went bite free while my husband was attacked and sucked dry. They must be smarter than they look. They knew before I did that my blood was not quality stuff. I guess they took one sniff and decided that I wasn't worth. Mr. T on the other hand.....yum yum.
I now bear the scars of multiple bites on my legs and feet. Bzzz Bzzz mosquito buddies, iron rich blood ...come and get it!
3. I miss my ice.
It was something that I knew that I really really wanted....every day.....from the first moment of waking up to the last moment before I slept. Sometimes bedtime was dictated solely based on when I finished my last cup of ice. I could not let a single pellet go to waste. I wanted ice and I had ice of the finest kind....Sonic ice and I made sure that there was always a weeks supply. I very simply LOVED ice. And a few weeks after taking the iron it was like a switch being flipped.
I no longer felt the love and desire for the ice.
It was like that crush you had on a boy that ruled your thoughts and your world until that one day.....you finally kissed and.......
Nothing.
The feelings were gone.
And there was an empty place.
A hole
where the ice used to be.
I am sure that with my newfound appetite and my recent stirrings of energy I will find a replacement.
But for now
I will remember the "good times"
and
scratch scratch
keep applying the benadryl lotion

Merry Christmas Son! Love, Mom

This isn't a great picture but tonight it tugs at my heart more than I would like to admit.
It is my son.
He walked right in front of the camera as I was trying to capture a picture of our annual tradition of giving the Elder's in our ward a basket of Christmas gifts, just little fun things and treats.
I was probably perturbed at the time but what I wouldn't give..........
Tonight was tough.
I guess I should have been merry or bright but I wasn't.
Tears rimmed my eyes more than once.
I prepared my missionary son's box of Christmas cheer to get it in the mail tomorrow. I know it seems early but to make sure that it gets to Guatemala on time it has to be done ASAP.
In fact other Guat moms are already finished with their boxes and they are in the mail.
I had been collecting little things here and there the last few weeks.
But I had procrastinated the final preparations, the final touches.
Now it was time to put it all in a flat rate mailing box that seems like it gets smaller every time I use them.
I fought back tears as I wrapped each present with brightly colored paper.
Would perhaps a little Christmas music help?
No
No more noise.
My thoughts are enough noise.
I miss him too much right now.
I stuff and jam the offerings into the box.
The gifts seem silly now and too utilitarian. Who wants to get dress socks for Christmas? A tie? Whoppee! Merry Christmas?
I write a card to enclose in the package. I have nothing new to say. How many times can you say how proud you are and how much you love someone before it sounds too repetitious. But I do.......more than I can express with words.
And so I shed a few tears
As try to fit it all in like a puzzle that has too many pieces.
I will feel a little sorry for myself as I tape the box over and over as it threatens to burst at the seams.
I am bursting at the seams too.

I will feel differently on Christmas morning.
I will remind myself that my son is giving the greatest gift that he can give the Savior on his birthday.
He is following His admonition to "Feed my sheep" with all his might, mind, heart, and strength.
I will pray that as he opens up his silly utilitarian gifts that he will feel just how much he is loved.
And I will wait for the greatest gift
That I can recieve
The sound of his voice.
I can hardly wait.

Scrapping A Friendship

My friend B.C. and I like to scrapbook.
Well scrapbook is a strong word....let me rephrase that a little.
We like to buy scrapbook stuff and containers to organize it and then sit and talk and play around with our stuff.
We have a standing appointment to accomplish this every Tuesday,
Except B.C. has been A.W.O.L. for a month now.
I miss it.
But as you can see it would be hard to say that anything of real scrapbooking substance really gets accomplished.
Here is a picture of what we produced the last time we got together (over a month ago!)
We make what appeals to us.
I would hate to have to actually put any of this together on a page and make sense of it all.
I mean can you imagine the fluffy yellow chick next to the symbol for nuclear waste?
Or the Christmas holly next to the skull with the bullet hole and the pool of blood....Merry Christmas children.
I know that the grenade, the fuzzy dice and the buffalo could work if put together someday.
That being said, I like our stuff.
It is a strange representation of both our lives and personalities......it is deep,
Like our friendship.
And oh the conversations that were had while these beauties were made....
Well that is top secret.
What is your favorite?.....Do tell.
(Mine favorite is a tie between the grenade and the cups of soda with the straws.
Cmon tell me which one you would pick.