Damn Throat!

It has been 11 years...ELEVEN YEARS people!!! About six or eight weeks ago, I had a little hay fever going on, no big deal, but there was a lot of coughing involved. Curious, but maybe it was just a little reaction. Sadly the coughing continued past the hay fever, so it was off to my old otolaryngologist Dr. Trowbridge. Fortunately, it had been long enough that he didn't actually remember me (or because I have lost 120# since those old days). But when we started going over my history it all came back to him.

So he did one of my most favorite things... shoved a camera up my nose and then said those famous words "well, you have something I haven't really seen before" (if I had a dollar for every time he has said that I would have like $30). It seems that I had a ribbon of scar tissue straight across the middle of my trachea, just below my vocal cords, kind of like a bow sting. So a surgery date was quickly scheduled and it was today.

A little nervous (OK a lot), so I took the day off and headed in for a 7:45 procedure. I had forgotten just how cold OR rooms can be. Although, I was pleasantly surprised that the new IV drug of choice for after surgery is now dilaudid, rather than that nasty old morphine. Overall things went well, I was about 50% blocked, but the proof is in the recurring scar tissue.

Food Storage & A Barren Pig

If I learned anything growing up it was that dry cows went to the sales yard and barren wives were to be replaced (just kidding, well kind of). I’m not sure if it was Wilbur’s fault, Lola’s, or even mine, but there are no piglets to be found at the old Dederick house. So it is with a little bit of a heavy heart that I have decided to send Lola to the butcher shop. Every thing must fill the measure of its creation, and apparently Lola’s is to fill my freezer and provide a Christmas ham for 2014.. But before we cart her off, I remembered that I have quite a bit of expired food storage down in the scary basement, so… It seems the perfect solution, I’m sure if she knew she would go on a hunger strike.

ATTENTION ALL FAMILY MEMBERS!!!

This announcement is let everyone in my extended family know that due to my lack of interest or enthusiasm, I will no longer be actively involved in the planning, executing or maybe even attending the RE Whiting Reunions. I have previously thrown myself into these reunions to the point that reunions are actually cursed at my house, only to realize that I don’t like most of my cousins and that they in return are not all that fond of me. It’s ok, chance made us cousins but that doesn’t mean we have to like each other. I’m not really sure why I have attempted to kill myself in the last decade or so, with plays, activities, cookbooks or other endeavors. Last year my sisters and mother accepted responsibility for the reunion for 2015, and at first I was ok with planning yet another reunion, until I realized that I just didn’t want to. No one should take offense, to every thing there is a season right? I remember when my Dad decided to stop going to the big EM Whiting Reunion, it is just time. I would however, be amenable to going to work on the DP Whiting Reunion!!

Little Boys...

I was born into a family of girls, to a woman who only had sisters, and each of my sisters and I were allotted exactly one boy each, so my exposure to little boys was pretty limited until I started doing Cub Scouts 100 years ago. Perhaps my sisters and I were only given one each to prepare us for the onslaught of little boys that seem to be perpetuating the next generation, the number of boys in my family seem to be growing exponentially. This week I got an extra dose because Nancy and I went down to St. George to see the Andrus boys, and try to watch a couple of their football games (two of the three games got rained out). Then the day after I got back I had scouts with three rowdy little boys from our ward, anyway, I’m not sure if I should be offended or complimented because the cub scout boys now feel comfortable passing gas in front of me. I don’t know if this is because they have no manners or if they have now accepted me as one of their own.

Modest? Not really...

Maybe I’m getting old, ok… I know I’m getting old…but I have a little complaint about “young women these days”. I know finding dresses in this day and age is difficult. I get it, stores don’t carry a lot of dresses anymore, however that doesn’t mean that your entire Sabbath wardrobe needs to consist of knit skirts and tight scoop neck white t-shirts. Oh yeah, by the way, the layering with a cami totally doesn’t help. I don’t know if this trend is unique to my area, but most of the young women– 35 and younger – seem to believe this is great Sunday couture. Most if not all seem to wear these t-shirts so tight that I can see the back fat under the bottom of the bra strap and if they have an innie or outie.  Plus, I really really really like it when they are pregnant and the t-shirt is stretched so tight I actually get to see the baby move! I just want so badly to go up to one of them and say, “Sweetheart, I know the mirror you looked in this morning showed what I see, so you really don’t have an excuse” or “Wow, is that a different T today or do you only have the one?” Sadly in my ward, the entire YW seem to wear this combo as if it is some sort of under 40 uniform. So just let me throw this out: Tight T shirts are immodest, showing every bulge is gross, you seem to have plenty of time on pintrist – so maybe you could spend a little more time actually looking for a dress, and casual is not OK for church!!! On a side note from a previous post – put on some nylons.