Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Windin'-up "Bertha's" Siren. Model 760 Seagrave Triple Combination Pumper, Hose Wagon and Chemical Engine

Model 760 Seagrave Triple Combination Pumper

How does one day magically turn from Thanksgiving-time to Christmas-time? Have a Christmas parade!  The olden days of our town, our Chief drove his jeep through-out the town and gathered the children to follow him to the Fire Station on 10th Street and surprise them with candy. Later the parade was held at night during the 1960's and included a tree-lighting ceremony at the old Blanchard Library. I remember  I rode Smoky, our Arabian with my grandfather in the parade when he was Grand Marshall. He had Christmas lights all across the breast collar of Chico, his big, strawberry roan, quarter horse. I don't know how he did that, because back then, a person couldn't buy battery-powered Christmas lights.

My Grand Daughter Hannah and Adree, the Sparky Dog
Today, the parade was super long and lasted well over and hour. I especially loved this parade and it included so many children on the sport league trucks, I wondered if there was going to be children watching the parade. I'm thinking there was one engine from Station 82 plus and the "Light and Air" and our golf-cart emergency vehicle with Sparky the Fire Dog (AKA as my grand-daughter, Adree) She got out and Shufflee-Stepped for the crowd and did the Rain-bird, and a Rumba Rear Dance and everyone enjoyed her silly dancing especially the judges.
Photo by Don Johnson Santa Paula Times
Station 81 had also three engines, plus the wonderful, dear old Mac Engine that was my grandfather's big purchase as Chief 2.
I Love This Engine So Faded It's Almost Pink
And then, there's our precious Seagrave, so fancied-up. A sweet guy in town, named Lynn from Lynn's Towing has a special bond with "Bertha" and really has helped the fire department in getting that special old engine 'new life.' I'm not sure where he received all his mechanical knowledge, but our sweet little fire engine runs so great. When we received it, it was completely "stove-up" from vandalism in the fuel tank. I've never ridden in it before, at least as I can remember. I'm not sure it worked when I was a little girl, but I did climb-up on the engine and wind-it-up way too tight in a very small engine bay. I could see my dad running to get me and I just wound faster and faster he would yank me off. (not an easy chore because the seat's up so high) I remember him carrying me like a football with me kickin' and screaming all the way out of the station. I loved that big ol' bell, too. Steve just told me on the phone that this was the first time the engines didn't receive a call during the parade. Even with Ventura covering us, the engine would have pulled-out and gone on a call. I know that was a worry because of the dry gusty winds, that make Southern California famous with wild fires.

Off To The Parade
We Stage At The End--We Got Santa!
The old days... when I was a 'wild child'  57 years ago I was completely obsessed with the sirens and bells and driving the big wooden steering wheel. No I didn't drive it, but today I was able to ride in front seat  of the Seagrave, with my husband driving it and was so excited, because it was me....there, just windin' her siren-up and I even tied a hankie to the bell, so I wouldn't break my fingers. It's crazy how head-strong a little girl can be... strong enough to pull both a siren around and ring that huge bell. It was hard work for me today and I laughed the whole parade. I kicked and screamed a little bit and I accidentally hit the ignition on the lower left side, dashboard where I was sitting, Oops! I didn't know that would kill the engine and the engine died, it did! Right on the railroad tracks. Steve gave me sitting orders and my foot had to go out on the side handle-lift. Actually, it made me fill more secure in the small open seat. The engineer sits on the wrong-side of the engine, like England. I was told that was old school by Uncle John, Steve's side-kick and B-shift buddy.

Our family rode in the Seagrave except my grandson, Tanner, who rode with his dad and my son, the other Captain Lazenby, from station 82 and Sparky-dog Adree, was in the Emergency golf cart.

My Other Captain...My Son, Dustin and Grandson Tanner

The fun part was we were last and we carried Santa Claus. It was a whopping 83 degrees and so hot. The East Wind was blowing like crazy and everyone feared a big fire during the parade like last year when the oil tanks blew-up on South Mountain. Ventura Fire was covering for us, but our main 10th Street was closed as well as Main Street.

We all loved the time Santa took for pictures with the Seagrave in the background. It was really a fun and precious day, but I was super busy to get everything done, so we could be there at the engine before it left
the bay.

This whole parade business had me bring-up all my Christmas decorations always a couple days before Thanksgiving. The box that holds my wooden shoes for St. Nicholas Feast Day, also has all the silver bells used on the engines as the decorations. Traditionally we have kept them safe in little boxes just for this event. Our decoration box also holds all the hats that we wear year after year. I was a little sad looking at the baby Santa hats that my children and then grandchildren have outgrown. I'm glad I gave them away this year because I don't think those couple of hats would even fit a large baby dolly. I'm not sure my children ever fit in them.

Tonight included helping my mother like this morning. I wished she could have gone, but it was better she didn't attend in the heat and high wind. The whole parade is going to show all Christmas season on our local channel. I'll have to write down the parade times for her to watch.

Returning To The Station--It's All Fun!
Backing In To Set-up For Pictures
It's such a tradition to have this parade and Christmas parade pictures in our lives. All my children have participated and I miss the ones that can't be here now. Love the Jenkin's grandchildren. I'm so blessed to be the grandmother of sixteen grandchildren. I'm pretty sure all my children and grandchildren love the fire engines and all of these memorable parades.

I made bread for the Sacrament this evening. It's probably the most blessed bread, ever. I prayed over it to be light and tall. I handle it so carefully and I always make a back-up loaf so that I have a spare. It's never wasted because my grandchildren next door love it for an evening snack. I still can't believe I made sausage and "eggie-pancakes" crepes for breakfast this morning for my grandson and for my mother. Saturday has always been one of those days that we take a little more time on our breakfast. I know my mother loved to have the "eggie-pancakes" she made for all of us almost every Saturday.

I always think on the days that I have so much going on and I'm the busiest, that I can handle another "big job." Well, I must say those days are over. I have no energy left. Even though it would have been a perfect day to decorate my whole house, my bed is already calling me. The east wind, extra cooking, and climbing in and out of the Fire Engine, having all the animals chores I've done today... Can I blame my exhaustion on all of those extra things in my day? I could give-in and say I was too busy...I know the REAL reason: My extra-tight Levis, ouch! Right this second, I feel bound from my bottom rib to my ankles and that's what I get for leaning a'little on the over-eating, a day before yesterday.

One day ... and many years. I'm surprised, tired beyond words, and probably will dream about fire sirens all night. Ya' grow-up knowing and living with fire-fighters and then marrying one of them, then your boy becomes a firefighter, I can say that I know no other life. I'm so proud of my family and grateful for all they do. This was a huge undertaking today, so many firefighters came to drive and work. All of them were doing this work without any pay. It took hours to get the engines back in their storage, fueled-back-up, decorations all put-away, and everyone did it happily, even those without little children in their life right now. We are so thankful for firefighters that look at their job as being part of family. They're great.

My Captain Steve Lazenby

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Hold-over... Our Thanksgiving Longer

Why is Thanksgiving a day we remember just once a year? Our own American tradition is probably one of my very favorite holidays. It always gathers my thoughts of gratefulness from all year and overflows like bubbles in my kitchen sink. Every morning I'm thankful to be alive and have another day on this earth and always remember to tell my Heavenly Father.

 All not a bit fancy, but sharing the joy
of what Thanksgiving really is to our family

There's nothing like having lots of little children
with us to share this great day. We spent this afternoon 
at my niece's home, The Butler Family in Camarillo.

May the sun shine all day long,
Everything go right and nothing
Go wrong.
May those love bring love back to you.
May all your wishes really do come true.

All Thanksgivings with my dear husband and my brood of wonderful children have been the best days of my life. All that comes with living close to the Savior and knowing and recognizing the great blessings we have every single day and then making sure we tell our Heavenly Father how grateful we are for all things that we have in our lives.

Steve keeps beginning to rake the leaves and has to always stop because he's hindered by the early rain. I'm so grateful for the leaves on the ground. I think of the orange and brown that places a mosaic path all around our house and the pathways around the barn. The flat wet leaves have a smell I love and all blends with the black and purple sage that places the Autumn time within my whole being with each breath.

 I don't remember ever giving thanks at Thanksgiving until after I joined the Church. My dad may have said, "Rub-a-dub dub, thanks for the grub." and start to giggle. I can only think he wanted to say a prayer, but no one expected it and he was shy in saying anything too serious.

Overwhelmed By A Reluctant Large Turkey
One Thanksgiving my Mom, all dressed-up and even in heels, took a peek at her turkey and the whole turkey flew-out of the oven and scooted across the floor. All her family and my dad's family were there. My mom was so horrified by that accident. It looked so crazy and my mom's face just made all of us kids take-off outside to laugh so she wouldn't see us.

I don't know how my mom did it, but we ate the turkey. I know everyone had said to her that she should let the turkey-out for run-around... every time because it was the best turkey ever... and it was. I hope our family was grateful, but it often seemed to be a contest to which sister or auntie could have the best china, silver, decorations, and all dressed in their finest clothes. The day started with all of us children crying to eat and then stuffing ourselves to where everyone had to take a nap, followed by a huge football game, drinking, and then again at night everyone eating salted turkey sandwiches with mayonnaise and cranberry sauce.

It was always uncomfortable during those years and because we didn't know about the real reason for Thanksgiving, it was an awkward and strained day with all of the children looking forward to the next day of being lazy with no school and doing something fun outside. The weather is always perfect and we'd wear ourselves out.

In contrast, now we can't think of anything but our blessings. Our dinner is simple and our dress is casual. We do take pictures because there's always a group and a lot of us looking forward to our traditional meal and watching the children. My Steve cried while he gave the prayer this afternoon. We miss our children, only one of our children and family were able to be with us today. It's hard not having them all together with us, but we know that they need to develop their own traditions in their own homes in towns away from us. Our love and thankfulness for them still is as strong or stronger and I know they feel that... while they're away.

Our greatest blessings are in Heaven. One that I truly treasure is the chance I have to have the Spirit of the Holy Ghost. Our treasures are the Gospel and our Savior, Jesus Christ. We are blessed by our family, our children, grandchildren, and especially that we are sealed together as an eternal couple with the Priesthood of God in our home. We are an eternal family and that knowledge strengthens our lives to strive help and serve others.

My heart is full of blessings and every night before bed, I see my little silhouetted lambs jumping a fence and with the caption is blessings. Instead of counting my blessings instead of sheep like the singer Bing Crosby admonished us to do. I see the lambs with each blessing attached to the fleece. Graffiti lambs? Often my lambs carry messages of my great appreciation of our military service personnel, or even that we have hot water in our home, and a heater, that my husband .. is here and safe, or even our little canary, Sunshine, that is by my bed and blesses us. Sunshine sings each early morning as a beautiful signal that morning has arrived. I usually awake to hear him fluffing out his feathers even before his angel-like arias of sunrise. I never get-up until I hear him sing. I'm blessed with so many great and seemly small things in my life, but each are precious to me.

Gratitude Is the heart's memory.
French Proverb
The act of being grateful is the start of all the other virtues. We become humbled as we think of our blessings and tender actions follow to try and prepare ourselves to always be worthy to carry our blessings. We have so much unseen blessings and with the ones we see, our family and friends, fill us with joy.

I loved the comic Ziggy and remember the thought he sent to us. Now, every November as we cut our roses down to prepare for Wintertime and just before Thanksgiving, "You complain that roses have thorns or you can rejoice that the thorns have roses."

    "Thankfulness is that attitude of appreciation knowing the bounty
of blessings that we feel in our soul." quote by me.

**My wake-up--November 25th The day after Thanksgiving.
One Thanksgiving when Kiely was still at Mupu School and probably in 7th or 8th grade. All my other children were here to celebrate Thanksgiving at my mother's house. The group also included my brothers and sister and their spouses and some of my  nieces and nephews and they are not members of the church. My dad had been gone over a few years and my mother had baked and baked and baked tons of food. I know she must have worked all week getting ready for the event. Our family and all the little grandchildren comprised the majority of people attending. All the food was laid-out and golly, what a spread... just like old times. The table was beautiful with candles, brown turkey. It could've been a Rockwell Painting, but none of us had sat-down. My grown-married  children were still trying to settle-down their little ones and this went on for maybe five minutes, not really more than that... but my mom was tired and her huge Thanksgiving creations were getting cold. Pies could be burning.

My mom said, "Wait"  "Would you all hold-on for a minute?" in a loud enough tone (she was a police dispatcher and sworn peace officer) and when she was in that particular mode--we all stopped and looked at her. Who was she going to ask to give the prayer? No one had said anything like, let's wait until a prayer is offered or we won't eat. My children were just still flying around her big house catching wild children. We innocently waiting for her to ask one of us. We could have done the,"grab at closest little one near us--fold their little hands against them, and put our other hand over their mouth." That always works.

The surprise of my life happened when my mom bowed her head and said the most perfect Thanksgiving Prayer I've ever heard in my life. It was sincere, it was formal and began with Heavenly Father and ended with the closing in the Savior's name that Jesus Christ had taught us, how to pray. In perfect timing we all said, "Amen." She looked-up after a little bit to see all of us with our jaws dropped. I had never heard my mother ever say a prayer in my life.

My mother had never thought much of a Heavenly Father or a Savior because of the way her life had been. She didn't think there was a God. Was it desperation about her food at the moment? No. It has led her to many grand experiences within the Church including the final admission that she's half-Mormon. I truly miss the sisters in our ward that visited have visited her once a week, sang lovely hymns to her, and read to her out of the Book of Mormon, since her return from the Rehab. Hospital. They had blessed her for for over eight months. Mom has been really sad since they left and mentioned that the sisters were delightful and fun to have there at her home. My mom was able to have more than six sets of different sister missionaries and she loved everyone of them. I'm also thankful for missionaries. Through the missionaries I was taught, joined the church, and have been led to great happiness and faith. We will never forget the day my mother offered the prayer at Thanksgiving.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Worry, Faith, and My Colonoscopy

I looked-up how to spell the word, "colonoscopy." Blogger is underlining it which means I've spelled it wrong...oh well. I learned something today by trying to spell a FUN procedure. The very first Google Search revealed the first item pulled-up... a doctor stating that, "Do not fear to check your rear." and right after was the next entry was to "Get Your Rear In Gear." Actually, that little rhyme may be a title of the Doctor's book. Great.

My picture at the top is absolutely, positively me. It really should be on my car as a bummer sticker, but Steve drives my FJ a lot. My confession with this blog post is that all of my problems with my system have me convinced that I definitely show an indication I have something abnormal going-on in my gut. The interesting thing is that the first colonoscopy that I had when I was 49, was way too easy. I was in the hospital a minimal amount of time and done. The prep wasn't a bit upsetting to me and I knew ahead of time what to expect. I had a wonderful doctor that I completely trusted and even though a gastroenterologist.... he's the doctor that finally found my murmur or mitral-valve regurgitation of my heart. How could any other doctor top him?

My dear husband reassured me to not worry this time. He told me that all the medications were the same as the first time, my weight is lighter, and I exercise regularly. My system runs the same as always. Really? I'm so unsure that I'm the same as before especially a lot older.

My first scheduled appointment had to be postponed because I fell out on the asphalt carrying a bunch of puppy food in a round, plastic trashcan lid. It's hard to describe my fall. I need to learn to never assume that what I learned in 4th grade was the proper way to carry anything. Over and over, as little kids, we were told... as we went to our assemblies to carry our wooden chairs safely in front of us. I can say after 4th grade, every time I have ever carried anything in front of me... I have fallen down. I never got it and it had to be that the teachers were just saving space, not safety-minded. If you can't see what's in front of your feet--you're NOT safe. I hope I remember. No more "age amnesia!"

The accident was very fast. I fell off of a step and then fell over the board that kept the puppies in the stall. My toes came out of my shoe and became caught under the gate. Quick-as-a-blink, I hit the pavement with my leg as a fulcrum. Added to that ... and I know this can't even be visualized, I fell with a twist. I also conked-my-noggin' but, my pelvis was the problem. Oh, my leg was a problem and my toes, too. I think when you hurt something, the place that hurts the most, is the only injury a person thinks they have. I hurt more in the place that if I had colonoscopy too soon, it would've caused me unnecessary pain. Postponement was the only alternative. Great! Now I have time to set-up a "worry-counsel" with myself.

I decided the Sunday before my procedure to have a "blessing" to help calm my nerves and give me the comfort I needed to go ahead a prepare for the screening. I asked a dear friend that mentioned in passing that a resection of my intestines would mean that I would completely have to change my meals and life-style. Gasp! he knows. Now, looking back ... I'm not sure he knew what kind of test I was going to obtain, but I took what he said way too seriously. This isn't going to turn-out well.

I have had in my mind that I have finished my journey
here on earth. This is my thought process -- 

  • I have been released from my callings and for the only time in my whole 42 years, I wasn't given another job in Church and we are a very small ward.
  • I've done lots of genealogy and I'm at a stand-off with the brick-wall that inevitably occurs at some point. Now, one of my children has shown a great interest in helping me continue the work in finding my ancestors and thankfully it thrills me to be able to pass some work over to her that she wants so desperately to do, herself. My daughter gained an aunt that works for Ancestry.com when she married Matt. 
  • I was told once that I was "spared" to receive the "Word of the Lord" and it was meant literally, and I asked. "Literally" So thinking about that...I did receive and acted upon knowing I needed to be baptized and become a member of the true church. I was married in the Temple, love my family and I had asked to receive that great blessing and all of those great blessings were granted to me. However, I'm where all of my children are adults, some already with their own children and married and on their own. My mothering-time is over.
  • I'm alone most days because my husband's work at the fire station is unending. He truly has to work every day that he has time off on his CERT and city job. I fit-in just a bit.
My conclusion came when I saw the "everything works-out in the end" sign and I saved it and thought, "Well, why not?" My Relief Society lesson the Sunday before my procedure was to be prepared for the "end-times." No pun intended, I mean like my life is now closing. The whole lesson I'm thinking, "Whew! I'm glad I gave my testimony when I did" that morning. I guess I'm prepared and had felt the presence of the Spirit that day. I knew Heavenly Father was watching over me.

Yep, I've been taking care of my mother, but she 
does have her other children.***Deep Breath***

People I know really well that are my age are dying everyday. I know, because Steve comes home and says, "John and I killed only 11 people today." Do I know them? I don't ask ... I'm just stating we live in a small town and yes, I do find-out and I know when I read the paper and line-up the days. I feel his regret in not having success each time the engine pulls-out and his sadness each time there isn't a "save". Still thinking ... it seems everywhere I turn, someone is talking about colon cancer, even on my Twitter account.

I left the doctor's appointment and while climbing in my car I figured that my new "distant" doctor must do colonoscopies because she can't have a family practice. I asked her for reassurance and comfort. She said tersely, "I'll give you a report on my findings when I return." She told me of just a few procedures that didn't have a good outcome, like I was a statistic. The appointment desk assistant quietly said the doctor was going to the East Coast for Thanksgiving." Nooooooo.

I Shouldn't Be have been Judging her
I tried really hard to not worry after my swimming class on Wednesday and my appointment at the hospital was Friday. All of my friends that are there in my class told me not to worry at all, especially my dear friend Vicky, who had some problems that were "taken-care-of" and Vicky is in absolutely in great health, now. "Don't worry." was instead of good-byes from all of them.

I spent all my Thursday on caring for my mother and way more so than usual. I immersed myself in her care. My day was filled with home-cooked meals, finding vitamins she could take, helping her with the channels on the television, cleaning and fixing things she needed, and then talking to her about our family. My mom didn't know about my colonoscopy. She said out-of-the-clear-blue, "Did you know your Grandma Wellman died from complications when she had a colonoscopy?" "WHAT?" "She didn't die from a stroke?" I instantly thought a word that means same as "crap" but starts with an "s".

I didn't talk much after that and I think that "nervous non-jabber" upset my husband because he knows what my usual "M.O." is the just the opposite before any event in my life. I couldn't talk even on the way to the hospital. I just sang in my head the song, "Lead Kindly Light" our practice hymn for this month. I mean, months. We haven't got the timing right yet. As the song flowed...and I can sing good in my head... I was grateful for the extra rehearsals. Now I know "Lead Kindly Light" by heart. I needed it. I reminded myself that by tomorrow all of this will be over.

"What me worry?" I had mention that because even though not too many people know or remember ... but if you're over 60, there was  Mad Magazine. Honest, I only read it at my friend's house! Honest.  I had said I was a little worried and Steve looked at me like I was crazy. Worry? And this boy's face jumped into my head. Alfred E. Newman's face made me smile. I hadn't thought of this since the 1970's.

So dang ... What happened? 

My husband, a former bishop, attended our "Linger-Longer" Thanksgiving dinner after church this past Sunday. I stayed home because I was so sore, I couldn't walk. Steve was on-duty but was invited for free dinner with the firefighters. My Steve was taking my food assignment to the building. It was one of those "eat and run" stops, no visiting because he was working. I don't miss church, so everyone was concerned that I wasn't AT Church. Only two others knew of my hospital test. "Where's Susan?" "Oh, Susan... she had the colonoscopy from Hell."
I Entered The Hospital Bravely

At the time, I wished it had been a lot different. The medication to calm and make me drowsy, didn't work. The nurses changed shifts and didn't look at my medications, I take everyday. I had trouble with my rolling veins ... I should've gone home. The actual test didn't go well because my doctor was behind schedule and in the rush--- the scope became tangled, my intestines were longer than she thought, had lots of tight-turns, and the more she rushed the longer it took and she pushed-on harder and harder. The last straw was when she administered even more gas inside me. I saw myself on TV, I was a balloon, and rising. The process was over an hour of pure torture. The additional gas was where I hit "critical mass".

I hurt more than birthing any of my children, (all born Lamaze method w/o anesthesia and even more than the induced one, and the few over 10 pounds) I yelled, "STOP!" "I'm going to explode!"

The Doctor stopped and she pulled the scope-out not so gently, and said "Fine, you'll finish your procedure over at x-ray." and she left. What? The nurses rambled-on about x-rays and Barium. I think one of my daughter's drank Barium once at an x-ray lab. My hand rose to my face and I knew I had rattled the windows in the whole north-west corner of the hospital.

I was on a rolling bed and moved down a few halls and was met by young men, one still in training. (???!) They treated me with great respect, kindness. and a gentleness that my own son would've given me. I'm very grateful. The Barium test was very hard to not only administer to me, but also hard for me to be still, considering how my traumatized end-parts were--right at the moment. I was shaking and trembling and that made the techs run x-ray pictures over and over and over. Both of the young technicians said, "I'm sorry, you look so tired." and I said, "I keep telling myself I was going to be up all night anyway, so keep going." "I was going to go to the Twilight movie at midnight." Sheesh, like that made sense to them! The technicians were so patient and sweet. I hope they get paid a lot for what they do in the lab.

My stay in the hospital ... instead of, at the most three hours, was all stinkin' day. I finally said when I saw my husband- all dejected **add whine here*** "We have to pay for this." and I started crying from pain, embarrassment and relief it was over. "I can't believe I put-on all this make-up." (excuse me, while I laugh ... OMGsh- I'm a mess!)


Where is my faith between all of my fear and worry? Did I ever feel the Comforter? I had faith throughout the whole experience and I faced it knowing that whatever the outcome, it was going to be okay. I did rely on my husband's faith and admonintion that will be well on my insides. (outside?..another post) He just knew that the findings would be normal. Though-out the whole experience I sang the song in a whisper.

If the outcome was required that I needed to take care of a cancer then I would've done that, knowing I could be really sedated, as in "out." The nurse told me it was a good thing and she was glad that I was awake and could yell-out because it caused the doctor to rethink (actually get mad) and gave the three nurses a chance to completely stop. The discharge nurse, and who was one of the nurses in the room with me, knew that if the doctor had continued...I would probably still be in the hospital and under emergency surgery. The nurse didn't feel good about continuing, fearing perforation. Pain was part of the process and was a learning experience for me. Today, I don't regret the colonoscopy or x-rays because it has made me stronger. Sore all inside, but stronger. This is one of those "We Can Do Hard Things"

Home-bound included a side-trip to my favorite frozen yogurt store. My dear husband went in the shop and brought-out the largest bowl he could find... and he bought himself some this time and even my same flavor. I looked at the bowl and said, "Freeze my guts, please."

I believe I screamed..oops!
Today, my family doctor called and 
apologized for my doctor's actions, saying 
she was undergoing a lot of stress in her life. 
The best news--- my tests were very normal and that I can wait another 10 years before going back again. I hung-up the phone and took a really deep sigh of relief. My prayers were answered in the way I wanted, and that's-- I'm able to stay a bit longer here on this earth and do the things I need to finish in my life. That's a huge thought!  I'm not finished with me yet. Thank you, Heavenly Father.

I did enjoy my ride and arrival to my home. My husband had left the heater on in the house so when I came home it would be all cozy for me. Steve even had turned-on my electric blanket to warm my bed because I hadn't slept for over 45 hours and I was still, really shaking. I'm so grateful and appreciate him so much. He left me with my phone and said to me, "Call your kids." I think, I maybe called one of them. Did I tell all of my kids?

I Love This So Much. Yes, It's True

I gazed-out the window and lifted my eyes
to the shadow of lizard-ranch mountain. 
The sun has gone and it's Twilight. 
The paragraph above's so cheesy...give me a break!
 So Blessed! Please Get Screened. I Already Had The Bad Test