Snow in New Mexico

Well, what did I expect--living here at 6000 feet.

Holidays...

They seem to bring out the best and the worst in the people in my family. But this is not what I want to write about this beautiful late fall day--full of sunshine and a few high clouds and warm at 56 degrees. Not bad for the end of November. We will have turkey and ham and sweet potatoes and a fruit platter by Alexandra from her "Kids' Cookbook." And a chocolate pecan pie and a sweet potato pie. And I will be thankful for this year and its many trials and blessings, as all are cause for gratitude.

You CAN teach an old dog new tricks!

I have just popped the five-bean bake into the oven for our lunch today--my mother's and mine. Did you get that? I, Wendy, "popped" something in the oven which I made from a recipe. It wasn't that hard, not a difficult recipe, but a recipe nonetheless. Not a frozen dinner or a can of ______ or a boxed meal. Or a peanut butter sandwich. It's just a wonder a person could come to this in her sixties--hence the title of this blog.

Now, I will type a few more lines without going back to add in the missd spaces and letters that my keyboard has suddenly decided to leave out. Who knows why--jut oneo f those computer things that let you know you are not really in charge.

More on Bricks--

Remember when I wrote last month so proudly about my newspaper bricks? And how I had made ten of them? What a wimp I was then! Today, I made thirty-three. The sun shone down, a breeze ambled through, lifting the edges of the papers I was stacking, just to let me know who's in charge. (By the way, Washington, which part of the climate do you think you can control? Not the wind that listeth where it may) And it was warm--up to 75 today. So November feels like October should have. At least in Silver City.

One last note: I ate sushi in Silver City today. At the fairly new Asian Buffet where the young man who did not speak English made it right before my eyes. May these food wonders never cease.

Medicophobia, Part 2

This part 1, part 2 stuff is catching...

So I took my sister to the pharmacy and then I went back to the endoscopy center at UNM hospital with the purple latex glove in plastic bag in hand. I ran right up against the check-out nurse, so I told her and showed her. She was nonplussed. Which is to say, she had no explanation except to call the supervising nurse over. I told this nurse the story and showed her the purple latex glove. Explanation: It must have been stuck to her behind because we don't use those for anything except the rectal exam (sorry--part of the story) and there's no way it could have been inside her. I accepted this and said I thought they would want to know about it for quality control. She laughed and said, "Oh, we don't reuse those."

Really. Hmm.

End of story--at least about that visit to the UNM hospital.

Medicophobia

Well, I kind of made that word up to fit the following story. I went with my sister to Albuquerque for her colonoscopy last week. (Don't stop here--it's not about drinking all the yucky stuff and sitting on the toilet for three hours.) Afterwards, the check-out nurse warned her that she would have a lot of air--6 feet of it--to pass during the day. Fine--no real news there. I drove her back to the motel room, and a bit later, she went into her favorite room and did her business, plus air. She came out with a purple latex glove in her hand. This, she said, had been in the toilet when she stood up to flush. Yes, a purple latex glove. So where did it come from? (Do you want to know, or is this enough?)