"Stocking Up"

As part of my shopping to save strategies, I often check out blogs with a money saving theme. Some of the comments I have seen regarding couponing and the "drug store game" are critical of people who use coupons, or those who stock up.

The first group contends that couponing takes more time than it is worth. Daughter Jeana has figured out what her hourly "wage" for couponing is, by calculating what she saves weekly, compared to the time it takes to get read to shop. Her hourly rate is more than I make at my job. Of course, couponing is not a full-time job, but it certainly is worth doing, if one is a careful and thoughtful shopper. Besides, most of us can "walk and chew gum at the same time"--that is, we can watch t.v. or have a conversation while clipping coupons.
This group is often also critical of those who coupon, as if they are lower class for trying to save money. Statistically, more middle class, better educated people take advantage of coupons than do people in lower socio-economic groups. Even if I were rich, why should I not save my pennies? In fact, couponing may be one way many middle class families stay in the middle class.

Those who are critical of stocking up contend that one saves more money by making a list of only what is actually needed that week, and sticking to the list faithfully. Now, if you are one of those impulse shoppers who mindlessly throws stuff into your cart as you shop just because it is new, or because it is eye-level, or because it sounds good at that moment, then listing probably would help you stay on track with your spending.
However, those of us who faithfully try to match coupons with sales and items for which we receive ECBs or Register Rewards or rebates--we are shopping from a list, but our list includes not only what we may be out of this week, but also what we know we will need next week, or the next, or sometime in the future.

Stocking up, creating a stockpile of nonperishable items which you or your family uses regularly, is one of the best money-saving tips I can offer. If I let myself run out of toothpaste, toilet paper, shampoo, or body wash, I may have to pay regular price in order to have that product right now. But if I have faithfully shopped specials, rebates, and coupons, then I have the item in stock in my own pantry, cabinet, closet, or bin, purchased on sale, and often free by combining coupons and sales.

My mother-in-law and my own mother were both depression babies--that is, they grew up in a time when every penny had to count, and people had to rely on many strategies just to keep food on the table. One of their favorite sayings was

"Use it up,
Wear it out,
Make it do,
Or do without."

My MIL in particular was great at stockpiling. She had two of the largest freezers sold by Sears and Roebuck on her service porch. They both stayed full all the time, with the bounty of foods she found at great prices. She never paid full price for dried beans, flour, cornmeal, cake mix, meats and poultry, etc. She also stocked up on canned goods whenever they were on special, buying a case at a time of corn, peas, tomatoes, or green beans when they were ten cans for a dollar. When Wick and I married, he taught me the lessons he had learned from her.

I learned from my mother and grandmother too, about growing a garden and canning the produce. The summer I was expecting our second child, I canned all summer--squash, tomatoes, tomato sauce, tomato relish, tomato juice, pickles, anything that could be put into a canning jar. Throughout the following year, if bad weather kept Wick from working on the construction site, we still had plenty of good food on the table.

Stocking up also means that in times of need, I have an abundance to share. When a baby is born, a new couple marries, someone takes an unexpected trip, a family has a financial crisis, I will have the wherewithal to create a basket of useful items at little or no cost.

I think God expects us to be good stewards of the bounty with which we are blessed in this country, and playing the "drug store game" and clipping coupons helps me to be a better steward.

Saving Money at CVS

Saving money at CVS has become one of my hobbies. Daughter Jeana (daystocome) piqued my interest, and then I discovered moneysavingmom.com, where you can find weekly scenarios for saving lots of money.

Wick is fascinated with CVS sales and Extra Care Bucks (aka ECBs), and how much stuff I bring home, with so little out of pocket. ECBs can be spent like cash in any CVS. In order to get them, you will need to fill out a form at the store or on line, and get a loyalty card.

Yesterday I had a list, some coupons, about $7 in ECBs, and a $3 off $15 purchase coupon, so I was ready to prowl the aisles at our local CVS.

Here's what happened when I went to CVS yesterday:

1. I had a rain check from last month, when Soft Soap Spa body wash was $4.99, with $4.99 Extra care Bucks (ECBs), for 4 bottles. CVS was out every time I went in last month, so I got two rain checks, for a total of 8 bottles. (Their rain checks are available for any product they run a sale on, and do not expire.) Instead of the ECBs, which were for last month, I got 4 bottles of body wash for free, a 19.96 value.

2. I had a coupon for Tums 3 pack, plus ECBs equal to the purchase price--meaning I actually made money on that deal.

3. Same with Rolaids.

4. Tide $5.99, with $1 coupon, plus $2 ECBs on each, and I bought 2 bottles.

5. Aquafresh toothpaste, $2 ECBs, plus a $1 coupon, so I got overage (more in return than I spent) on that.

6. I had a $3 off $15 purchase coupon from CVS (sign up to receive e-mails from them), and my total of merchandise was over $15.

7. Allergy meds CVS brand, received ECBs equal to the purchase price.

8. Excedrin, received ECBs equal to purchase price of $1.99, plus had a $2 off coupon--in effect, they paid me to take the product home.

9. I bought bandaids on sale, even though I didn't have a coupon, because I was out of them, and didn't get them when they were an ECB item.

I walked out with a total of almost $45 in products, paid $11.76 out of pocket, and received $11.78 in ECBs to use next week, so I "made" two cents for shopping at CVS this week.

If you get serious about doing this, buy the Sunday paper in the double bundle (two papers for $2), and start clipping coupons (I learned that from Jeana). Usually the best deals will be a couple of weeks after the coupon comes out, so hang on to it. I have a little coupon file with dividers to keep things organized--a tab for health and beauty, a tab for paper goods, a tab for dairy, a tab for canned/frozen, etc. Keep it in your car, so you always have access to it when you are out and about.

Kroger will double coupons on certain days, so watch the sales, match the coupons with the sales, and shop on double coupon days.

One thing I have learned is that I can not be "brand loyal" if I want the best deals. Another thing is that we now get better quality stuff (brand name shampoos, toothpastes, and so forth) for less money than the generic. And by stocking up when stuff is free, I have an abundance to share with those in need.

On the moneysaving mom blog site, she has a CVS 101 and Walgreens 101, to help people get started, and to explain how each store's system works. Look in the left hand list of previous posts.

CVS, to me, is simpler than Walgreens; many of Walgreens' best deals involve rebates, which I am bad about filing and mailing for, but some people really like getting that check in the mail periodically. Or you can now have the rebates loaded onto your Walgreens saver card, to use like cash at any Walgreens store. They also have what they call Register Rewards, similar to the ECBs at CVS.

In addition to saving money, shopping this way has become a game. If I walk out with at least as much in ECBs as I walked into the store with, I feel as if I "won" this week. I'm no expert, but I am learning to play the game, save some money, and enjoy the process.

Also, learning to shop this way is a sort of dress rehearsal for retirement, when it will be even more vital to make every penny count.

Random Thoughts

Ok, yes, I know, if you have read my blog *at all*, you know that random thoughts is what we are all about, so okay now that I have cleared that up, on with the randomness.

Last weekend we went to the lake again. In fact, we were there for three days. Because we took Friday off. Just because we could. And our son Scott came too. I guess the three teachers all needed a mental health day.

and what a great day for mental health it was. The sun was shining. The breeze was mildly blowing. Temps in the lower 70's. Just a perfect spring day.

On Friday we did nesting sort of stuff. The guys hung insulation in the cabin, which is still under construction. Wick shampooed the carpet in the RV. I did laundry, and a little mending, and a little (very little) cooking.

On Saturday we went to a street fair in Edom, called April in Edom. Because it was in Edom, and it is in April, see. There was a softball game between the coaches of two nearby towns. There were dogs, and babies, and the smell of kettle popcorn, and oh my word the samples. The samples, y'all. Little bites of chocolate toffee candy. Nibbles of sugar roated pecans. Tiny spoonfuls of raspberry honey, mocha honey, jalapeno honey. Teensy tastes of dips on little pretzel sticks, with names like fiesta chipotle, Mexican ranch, green onion and chive. We didn't even eat lunch--we were full of all those bits, bites, tastes, and nibbles.

Back at the lake, late in the long sunny evening, the guys grilled hamburgers that I pattied up, and Johnsonville beer Brats. If you have never tasted these brats, go right now and get you some, and grill them over charcoal, and you will taste one of the best brats you ever put in your mouth. Add some big baked potatoes loaded with sour cream, cheese, butter, and bacon bits (real bacon, now, not that fake stuff), a bowl of baked beans flavored with tomato, molasses, onion and a chunk of pork, and a big ol' platter of fresh sliced tomatoes, sweet onions, and crispy lettuce leaves, and you have a banquet. At least, we did.

We talked about building a fire, but after our tummies were full of good food, and our lungs full of fresh air, and our skins full of spring sunshine, we all fell asleep by 9:00, sleeping on freshly laundered sheets, dreaming of days just like that one.

Nesting

Nesting

Our last night at the lake, Wick and I were sitting in the cabin, looking out through the back glass wall, watching the sun go down, and talking about what is next on our list of stuff to do to get the cabin to the point that we can actually stay in it, instead of having to bring the RV whenever we come (could that sentence have been any longer?)
While we were talking about insulation and window units, he stood up to show me approximately where on the wall he was talking about, and discovered a bird's nest behind one of the insulation bats.
He pulled it down carefully, and we looked inside. There were five little eggs, about the size of jelly beans, pale pink mottled with a darker pink. Since the cabin has been closed in for almost a year, it had to be a last-year's nest, and an unsuccessful one at that.
I felt kind of sad for that little bird, working so hard to build a nest, and then finding that her eggs were duds.
On the other hand, I took it as a hopeful omen: we too are building a nest, in this little cabin on the water, and like the tiny eggs, some of our ideas are duds.
But also like the little bird, we keep working, tearing out, rebuilding, trying again to get it just right.
The Lord God knows every sparrow that flies, and He dresses the lilies of the field, and I know He is watching as we feather our little nest.

Spring Break 2008

No, we are not at Padre Island, or on a cruise, or skiing. We are at home. Home is our cabin on the lake, where we are building a cabin.
So far this week, we have:
Sat on the dock.
Watched the ducks, geese, and swans.
Leisurely drank coffee and read the paper.
Been to town twice, to pick up groceries, go to CVS to catch the specials, and get a pickup load of insulation and a door for the bathroom.
Stayed up late watching movies on tv.
Slept late.
Sat in the cabin looking at our view of the boathouse, lake, trees and sky.
Swept the cabin twice, trying to get rid of the sawdust, dead ants, and dirt.
Put up some insulation.
Installed a door on the bathroom.
Washed all the sheets and towels.
Stood on the dock and watched the clouds dissipate and the sun peek through.
Enjoyed the extremes of Texas springtime, from freezing at night to shorts weather in the daytime, from fog and rain to bright sunshine.
Bemoaned the accumulation of dirt and grime on our boat over the winter.
Discovered that a wind storm carried off some shingles from our roof and a panel from the deck roof.
Chased the neighbor's chickens, shooing them back to their home.
Thanked God for this place and this time to be here.
Enjoyed.

Love & Romance on Valentine's Day....and it didn't cost a dime

Valentine's Day is one day of the year that brings out the romantic in most of us. Some people get sucked into the merchandisers' push for us to buy buy buy stuff to prove our love. But one of the most romantic evenings in my memory didn't cost a dime--just a little effort.

DH met me at the door with a lingering hug and kiss, and told me to go take a warm bubble bath. When I got out, he wrapped me in a warm towel to dry off, and handed me a favorite nighty.

He led me back to the living room, where he had gathered and lit every candle in the house. A quilt was spread on the floor, with lots of pillows. Small saucers held cheese slices, crackers, grapes, and a handful of chocolates. Two wine glasses sparkled in the candlelight.

We lay on the quilt, eating cheese and crackers, talking about special times we have shared, hugging, kissing, reliving our courtship, and talking about future plans.

The quilt was one we had used many times, lying on sunny beaches or near campfires, watching the sun on the water or the moon making shadow pictures through the trees. This night was too cold to be outside, but the candlelight was a satisfactory substitute for sun or moonlight, and the piled up pillows felt wonderfully luxurious.

The cheese was ordinary cheddar. The crackers were saltines. The candles and the wine glasses we already had. No wine, just diet coke. We're easy to please, and not burdened with "sophisticated" palates.

Nothing was purchased just for this evening, and it couldn't really have been better.

Well. I guess I wouldn't turn down a few diamonds or rubies, a mink stole, or Godiva chocolates. But only if I could still have that evening. With that man.

Chicken x 3

Now that it is just me and my darlin at home, it's not quite as vital that we pinch ever penny, but we still try to be thrifty and good stewards of God's blessings. This has been on my mind lately, and got me to thinking about some of the things I discovered as a young wife and mother, SAHM before I ever heard that term, living on my darlin's hard work.

One of my money saving measures was trying to make sure I got the most out of our food dollars, and also trying to save cooking time so that I could spend more time with our kids. Chicken was one of my favorites, because there was so much I could do with it.

First, I boiled a whole chicken. Look for the largest you can find, because the proportion of meat to bone is in your favor with the larger birds. I put the chicken in my dutch oven, added enough water to cover the chicken, put in chopped carrots and onions, garlic, salt and pepper. Simmer until the meat starts falling off the bones. Put the chicken on a platter to drain and cool. Let the broth cool before you try to pour it up.

Bone the chicken. Put the bones back into the broth and simmer another 30 minutes to add flavor and calcium to your broth. Be sure to sieve out the bones when you pour up the broth.

Save the skin. Fry it in a hot skillet to render the fat. Use the fat for flavoring. The skin fries up very crisp, similar to pork rinds; a crunchy treat, but very rich, so be careful how much you let the little'uns eat.

Here are some of the meals you can create from chicken:
1. Dumplings with chicken.
2. rice with chicken. For a creamy casserole, add white sauce or canned mushroom/chicken/celery soup, green peas, and top with grated cheese.
3. chicken salad. Use white meat for company, dark meat for family. Add lots of chopped celery, onion, grated carrot for color, and mayonnaise or Miracle Whip.
4. chicken enchiladas. Use sour cream in the filling.
5. chicken soup. Just add noodles to the broth.
6. salad with chicken bits. Green salad with purple onion rings, cherry tomatoes, and your favorite dressing.
7. chicken spaghetti. Depending on the amount of sauce, cheese, and pasta, this can be stretched quite a bit if unexpected company arrives.
8. noodles with chicken. Buttered noodles --yum! Add a little parsley for color.
9. chicken stew. Like beef stew, but with chicken.
10. shanghai chicken--just add chinese style vegetables and chinese noodles, with rice and soy sauce.
11. chicken wontons--wrap a bit of chopped chicken, a little chopped mushroom and onion and chopped water chestnuts in wonton wraps and fry.
12. chicken rangoon--wrap a bit of chicken and a blob of cream cheese in a wonton wrapper and fry.
From one large chicken, I could make at least three of these recipes, plus having broth left over for other purposes. Freeze the broth in ice cube trays, then put the cubes in a heavy duty freezer container so that you can take out as many or as few as you need for a recipe. Since the broth is pre-seasoned, it will add great flavor to rice, noodles, potatoes, and vegetables.

If your raw chicken has liver inside of it, save the livers to make rumaki--chicken livers wrapped with bacon strips, broiled until the bacon is crisp.
Or make fried livers and gizzards with cream gravy.
Y'all will have to excuse me now; suddenly I'm starving.

Heartbeat of the House

When I was a very little girl, my daddy brought home a clock for my mama. It was a chiming mantel clock, about a foot and a half tall, with wide carved "wings" around the clock face, and a gilded pendulum swinging back and forth behind a little glass door that had curlycue designs in gold leaf.
In a house with four children, there are few quiet moments, but occasionally in a lull in the chaos the tick-tock-tick of the clock could be heard. The chime sounded once one the half-hour, and chimed the time on the hour. It was so much a part of our home that we rarely noticed it except when it ran down. It had to be wound every eight days. Daddy wound the clock on Sunday nights, setting the hands carefully, and dusting the heavily carved case. No one else ever touched the clock.
The chimes sounded day and night, and during the night, if I woke up, the clock told me if it was middle of the night, or nearly time to get up. If for some reason it wound down and stopped, I had trouble getting back to sleep.

When I married and left home, my darlin husband bought a chiming clock for our house. It wasn't an antique, but it did have a swinging pendulum, and it chimed on the hour and half hour, and its tick-tock-tick measured our nights and days, keeping me company when I was up late rocking a sick baby, and tracking the minutes when one of our teenagers was late coming home.

When our house burned, the clock was one of the things we lost. We replaced it with a pendulum clock that hangs on the wall. Since we currently live in our RV, the clock is in storage. I miss the ticking and the chiming.

When our little cabin is finished, when we are retired and living there, one of the first things I plan to do is hang the clock, and set our home's heart ticking again.

Are You Smarter than a Four Year Old?

Jeana recently posted about a conversation with her eldest child, which left her feeling somewhat at a loss. It reminded me of a similar conversation some years ago--same child, talking to my husband (Pepaw)
There had been a severe wind storm just a few days before, and my husband, trying to find conversational ground with his four-year-old grandchild, asked:
What did you think about that big wind storm the other night? Were you scared?

K: Actually, Pepaw, it was a vortex. A vortex in the air. Like when you let the water out of the bathtub.

Baffled at this point, Pepaw encouraged her to continue.

K: When you let the water out of the bath tub, it swirls around as it goes down the drain. If you are here, it goes clock wise. If you are in Australia, it goes counter clockwise. The storm last night was like that, only in the air, not in water.

My husband then noticed a large poster on the wall, with an illustration of an ant. He pointed it out, and asked her if she knew why the ant had such a big tummy.

K: Actually, Pepaw, that is the ant's thorax.
She proceeded to give him a brief dissertation on the other parts of the ant, its habits, what it eats.


I don't remember how Pepaw disengaged himself from the conversation, but I do remember his aside to me:
If she is this smart now, we won't even be able to talk to her by the time she is twelve.

After reading Jeana's post, I think I agree with him. Why would either of us think ourselves capable of explaining anything to her?

Tending to My Knitting

I taught myself to knit from a book many years ago, while expecting my first child. Somehow, it seemed like a good idea--quiet, relaxing, productive. I made two afghans during those nine months, and decided that crochet is more my cup of tea. I gave up knitting until just recently, when I decided to relearn it.
I taught myself to crochet from a book. I taught myself to embroider from a book. I learned to bake bread from a book. These and many other home making skills were once handed down generation to generation, the elder teaching the younger, but as we have become more and more industrialized, and fewer and fewer mothers stay home with their young children, the experience of learning from observation has become less the rule and more the exception.

Where did I get the idea that these skills were important? I remember quite vividly reading Louisa May Alcott's Eight Cousins, in which a guardian uncle who has inherited a half-grown girl child, expounds on the simple skills, crafts, and arts that are dying out, no longer valued by society. Remember, Alcott was writing some 150 years ago, and things haven't gotten better in this area since then.

Somehow I was inspired to learn these "homely" tasks. I wanted to be a good wife and mother in the traditional mold. I was blessed to be able to stay at home with my children until the youngest, Jeana, started school. During those years, we always had some kind of project going, whether it was sewing, cutting and pasting, cooking, embroidery, making curtains, whatever skill I was struggling to acquire at the time.
How much easier, if I had been living close enough to my mother or grandmother to ask questions. They did me the great favor of handing on to me many projects begun by my great-grandmother, unfinished after her death, and I used them as guidelines and inspirations, but how I yearned for a model, a mentor, to guide me.

It has been so long ago that when I had my first child, breast feeding not only was not "in style", but was actively discouraged by many doctors, on the grounds that so few women were successful.
Why were they unsuccessful? After all, women had been breastfeeding for thousands of years, and most had been successful, so why were women in 1971 so lacking? It finally dawned on me. We had no models. Not a single person I knew was choosing to breast feed. I had only seen women breastfeeding in books on natural childbirth. I struggled mightily, encouraged only by my husband. How I would have valued a teacher to guide me.

All this rambling is to say....in the past few years I have realized my dream of passing my "homely" skills on to another generation; I have the opportunity to be for my grandchildren a model and a teacher. Some of them are taking to it quickly and easily. Some are struggling. And some are just more interested in other skills, such as soccer. And that's okay too.

When Katushka calls or e-mails with a question about her knitting or crocheting...when daughterJeana mentions in her blog ( Diversifying Your Stockpile) that she is crocheting and that I taught her how...I once more have that sense of connecting across the years, across the generations, with all those women who came before, who made quilts to warm their families and stretch their budget, who knitted warm socks for their husbands who were going off to war, who baked bread and made their meals "from scratch" every day (must have been a mighty big sack of scratch, to feed all those young'uns).

And that connection feels good.

Dog Lovers?

I ask you: which do you think is more loveable, a fluffy, affectionate couch-potato Pomeranian like Frankie, or a bug-eyed, hyperactive Boston terrier named Oreo? The question arises because Jeana is answering questions from her readers, and stated that she is selective about the dogs she loves; she loves her own Golden retriever, Emma, and has a soft spot for dachshunds (we had one when she was growing up), and even loves her brother's Boston terrier. I have read the post three times, and still find no mention of my Frankie, who is hands down the most lovable, adorable dog on earth.
Now I am asking you, my readers, to vote.
All three of you.
And you know who you are.

How Long Has It Been Since You Cleaned That Hat?

Papaw, my father-in-law, wears a silver gray Stetson. He has been wearing it for several years, indoors and out, dress-up or casual, going out to dinner or working on his car. I told my husband that the hat needed cleaning. His first suggestion was to just buy a new hat.
A Stetson is not a casual purchase; it's an investment.
And Papaw likes his hat. He doesn't really want a new one.
So I suggested that we get the hat cleaned.
Wick said if I could find a place to get it cleaned, he would take it.
So I called Cavender's and asked, "Do you clean hats?"
The guy who answered said, "We sure as h#!! do, darlin'!"
I said well great, how long would it take?
He said, "We can do it in five minutes!"
I said now before you make any promises, you need to know that my father-in-law has been wearing this hat for several years, and it is pretty dirty.
He said, " If ol' Joe can't clean that hat in five minutes, I'll kick his @$$!"
I said okay, we'll bring it right over.

Now Papaw is quite attached to his hat. And he also has a little trouble hearing. So when I told him we were taking his hat to be cleaned, I'm not sure he understood. Or maybe we did it so fast he didn't have time to object. Wick and his brother took off with the hat, and my sister-in-law went to take a shower and do her hair before we went out to eat, leaving me to entertain Papaw.

We talked about his new place (assisted living), the cute nurse who bring him a banana and a glass of milk before he goes to bed at night, the one who helps him shower, and other assorted topics. Suddenly he put his hand on his head, and said, "Where's my hat?"

I reminded him that the guys had taken it to be cleaned. He said oh yeah, I forgot.

When the guys got back, they didn't have the hat. I asked where it was, and Wick said, "Joe said that's more than a five-minute job."
I said, so is Joe going to get his @$$ kicked?
Papaw said, "Who's gettin' his @$$ kicked? I want to see that!"
Then he said, "Where's my hat?"

We went out to eat while the hat was being cleaned.

I was not surprised that it was more than a five-minute job, since Papaw had frequently handled this pale gray Stetson when his hands were greasy up to the elbows from working on his car.

Several times during dinner he asked where his hat was, and each time when we reminded him it was being cleaned, he asked, "Well how long is it going to take?"

I didn't know, but I was pretty sure it was going to be more than five minutes.

When we got ready to leave the restaurant, he started looking for his hat again. The guys took us back to the house and went to get the hat.

When they brought it back, Wick said, "Joe says he didn't quite get it clean, but if we'll bring it back more often, he thinks he can get it cleaner."

Papaw examined every inch of his Stetson when Wick handed it to him, and then said, "Well I'll be d@**, I didn't know it was that dirty! It looks brand new, don't it?"

It might not look brand new, but it certainly looks better than it did before.

However, I still wish I could have seen Joe's face when he decided that hat was not a five-minute job.

Back by Popular Demand

In response to overwhelming demand (at least three people have e-mailed me!) I am back. Now and then my blogging mind seems to go blank, and I just can't think of anything to write about. I still don't have anything important to say, but then again, a great many of my posts have been about not much of anything, so this one won't be that unusual.
School has been in session for 11 weeks, so second report cards will be due next week. We started school with a new administrative staff, and there has been an adjustment period--every principal has his own system, and it takes a while to learn all the different expectations. The students are responding well to the new discipline program, which makes my life a lot easier. And our new principal is trying to improve morale by recognizing the efforts made by our teachers and staff to improve student learning.
Our low carb efforts have been rewarded by stabilized blood sugar levels, and both of us have lost a few pounds, so that's all good.
Thanksgiving is coming soon, so I've been thinking about all our blessings, and all that we have to be thankful for. I'm planning a Thanksgiving post next week. Won't you join me and post about the blessings in your life?

Catching My Breath

Since we returned from our cruise, I have had a bout with low blood sugar, a summer cold, a sinus infection, bronchitis, laringitis, and incipient pneumonia.
Praise God that we live in the age of antibiotics; otherwise, as my darling husband pointed out, I would be dead by now.
For some reason, no matter what kind of illness I start out with, it eventually goes to my lungs, resulting in acute bronchitis, or pneumonia, or both.
Just lucky, I guess.
Fortunately, my doctor takes any respiratory problem I have quite seriously, and gets aggressive with antibiotics, cough meds, pain killers, and so forth and so on. He know that for me, waiting to see what develops is just not an option.
In addition to coughing incessantly until I feel as if I have broken a rib or two, blowing my nose until it's so raw the skin starts peeling off, and wheezing so loudly I can be heard in the next room, my brain turns to mush. All I want to do is sleep.
Thinking is out of the question.
I'm so glad I had my response t o Jeana's question about blogging comments drafted ahead of time.
It only took me about 45 minutes to figure out how to post it, working, as I was, through a codeine fog.
Fortunately, it's summertime, and I don't really have to make good sense until August 2oth, when I have to go back to work.

Bloggy Commenting

Jeana posted an open invitation to talk about commenting on blogs, and I couldn't resist putting in my two cents.

I feel certain that my post will not be exactly what she had in mind, since I am thinking in terms of literary theory, interpreting literature and literary criticism. Some might argue that blog posts are not literature, but I feel that in our age of electronic communication, internet blogs qualify as a form of literature; in fact, blogging seems to be overtaking traditional publishing in both volume and content.

For many years, the interpretation of literature was based on the idea of figuring out what the author, the writer, meant. This process involved close reading of the text, exploration of the multiple meanings of the words used, and then extended to examination of the author's life to put the piece of writing in context.

However, as literary theory evolved during the twentieth century, the deconstructionist view began to take over. According to the deconstructionist view, the author is not necessarily the only or even the best source for discovering the true meaning of the text. The reader brings his/her own life experiences to the interpretation of the writer's work, and the reader's interpretation is considered as valid as the author's interpretation.

For most published authors, writing was a sort of one-sided conversation. The writer "speaks" through his written works, and retains possession of the original work, as well as the authority to reinterpret his/her meaning in response to literary critics. The "conversation" might take place over a long period of months or years, as each writer contributed to the exchange.

Now, with the advent of blogging, the author can receive almost immediate feedback, finding out how others interpret his/her work while the ideas are still fresh in the author's mind.

If you are a regular reader of blogs and their comments, you already know that people can take totally opposing views on what the blogger "really" meant. The blogger may or may not try to interpret the original intent of the post, may respond to the comments, close the comments, or delete comments that seem inappropriate. Those who comment can create their own posts, linking back to the original source, thus keeping the conversational connections intact. Others may then comment, or post in response, and so the conversation continues until everyone is satisfied--or exhausted.

I enjoy the comments almost as much, if not more than, the original posts. The exchange of ideas is so fresh, so immediate, and so often takes the readers in unexpected directions, possibly unimagined by the original poster.

The down side of comments is that some people feel entitled to browbeat the blogger into changing his or her position, by arguing the issue, or by personal attacks.

As my grandmother used to say, if you can't say anything nice, maybe you shouldn't say anything at all.

I don't mean that it is wrong or rude to disagree; I'm just saying, let's try to express ourselves civilly and kindly.

We are all entitled to our own opinions, but if we can't have civil discourse, ...
well, if we can't be civil, I'll close my comments ;)

Jeana's take on bloggy responses focuses on the issue of manners. I chose to focus on the conversational aspects of blogs and responses. What's your take? Be sure to link your response through Jeana's Mr. Linky.

WFMW--e-mailing grandkids

Like many grandparents, we don't get to see or spend as much time with our grandchildren as we would like. We work. They are busy. And too young as yet to really participate in a lengthy telephone conversation.
After just a few sentences, they are off to other activities.
So we e-mail. Each child has his or her own e-mail address. I write an open-ended question (one which requires more than a yes/no answer).
Sometimes that day, or the next day, or a week later, I receive a response. Sometimes they ask me a question. Or I come up with another question based on their answers.
Sometimes I write a short paragraph, to which they respond with questions or comments.
I enjoy hearing from them, and letting them know that they are on my mind and in my prayers.
They like knowing that an adult is willing to take the time to keep the "conversation" going.
It only takes a little time, and doesn't put them on the spot to reply immediately, as a telephone call or visit does.
Like most kids, they love to use the computer, and love getting e-mail.
And it keeps us involved in each other's lives.
And that works for me.

Running Aground on the Carb Reef

On Monday I posted about our cruise vacation, and all the wonderful, marvelous, delicious food served on the ship.
We had decided before the trip to throw caution to the winds, and eat like there was no tomorrow. When tomorrow got here, we started paying the price for that orgy of carbohydrates.

Ohh how we payed.

Blood sugar dropped.
Heads hurt.
Bones ached.
Energy was nearly zero.
We felt just awful.

We started Monday morning just fine, with all those carbs still floating around in our blood stream. We reviewed our dietary plan for the week, made a shopping list, and went to the grocery store. Unfortunately, I drank two cups of coffee, but didn't eat any breakfast.
Our shopping trip included a stop at Home Depot, so it was past noon when we got to Wal-mart.
By 1:30, it had been more than 15 hours since I had eaten.
As I pushed the shopping cart along one of the outside aisles, I noticed that everything was looking sort of blurry.
Then I started to feel dizzy.
I was sure I was goingto pass out.
How embarrassing would that be, to fall to the floor in the middle of the Wal-mart?
Luckily, there was a little bench nearby, so I sat down, put my head between my knees as best I could, considering the load of carbs I was still carrying in my bloated tummy, and wiped the clammy sweat from my face.
Yuck.
Was I ever paying a price for all that yummy, luscious food.
Somehow, it seemed so unfair.
I mean, 5 had already decided to reform.
I was busy buying all kinds of low carb, healthy foods, getting back on plan, and yet I was having to suffer withdrawals for the carb revels on the ship.
Isn't my repentance enough?
Why do I have to suffer like this, just when I am back on the right track?
Fortunately, just as I was about to drown in a pool of self-pity and sweat, dear husband came to the rescue.
He knew that my blood sugar had bottomed out.
He also knew that sugar would temporarily stave off the symptoms, but in a few minutes I would be crashing again.
So he did what any low carb savvy husband would do:
He popped the top on a can of Vienna sausages.
Stabbing one with his pocket knife, he offered it to me.
Now at that moment, I truly thought that if I ate anything, either I would not be able to swallow it, or it would come right back up again.
But I felt so lousy I was desperate.
So I opened my mouth.
I chewed.
I swallowed.
I began to feel as if I might not actually fall off the bench onto the floor.
And when I got home, as soon as I put away the groceries and ate more protein, I got busy posting recipes on my low carb recipe blog.
I'm still not feeling good enough to make anything very elaborate, but at least I am thinking about it.

Cruising Along

Wick & I just returned from a 7 day cruise with Royal Caribbean's Rhapsody of the Seas. We have sailed on this ship four times. She is not the largest cruise ship, but has the most repeat cruisers of any of Royal Caribbean's ships, due to the wonderful service and friendly staff.

Sadly, this will be our last cruise on the Rhapsody. She is being sent to Australia for several months, then will be reconditioned, and sent to Asia.

One of the things we like about the Rhapsody is the size. With about 2500 passengers, it is possible to get acquainted with other passengers, and to feel a part of the shipboard community.
On this cruise, we traveled with a family group, 15 other cruisers related to us by birth or marriage. We enjoyed their company, and shared many meals, on board activities, and excursions.

If you have never taken a cruise, be prepared for a whole new world of experience. For us, it is a week of feeling like royalty. Someone else cooks, serves and cleans up after 5 course gourmet meals, including lobster, escargot, prime rib, shrimp, and the most luscious desserts I have ever dreamed of. Someone else makes up the bed, cleans the shower, puts out clean towels, and picks up the wet washcloth I dropped in the shower. Someone else plans the daily activities, serves an endless stream of drinks with chunks of fruit and little umbrellas, and washes up the glasses afterward.

The biggest decision on a day at sea is which of a half dozen appetizers to order, or whether to read in a deck chair on the promenade deck, or in the solarium.

It's a week of luxury, of being pampered and cosseted, of being made to feel that life is truly just a bowl of cherries---piled high with whipped cream.

Try it. I think you'll like it.

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