My goodness, it has been a long time hasn't it! Things haven't changed too much since the last pic. Well, I don't have the Flu now. I'm still paying Tag with the Migraine monster though, as we speak. I pretty much hate his ever living guts. Even though, there is no such true existence to speak evil of.

We did take a little mini vaca to MD to see Pam and Larry and celebrate a whole host of things.

This is Pam and Larry. Frank's brother. It was also his birthday. The first time we've seen their new home; as well as Frank's parents, who came with us. It was a very interesting trip. I had fun. Especially listening to Frank and Uncle Vince from the middle seats, very entertaining. You'd have to know each of them to really appreciate the conversation. But I'll not go there today. I'm just not up for comedy relief just yet.

We played some serious killer MadGab - Boys against the Girls. There is something to be said about Italians and games. This game is a lot of fun, and I will be purchasing it for my home, for sure! We had so much fun. I learned that one of my brothers-in-law does NOT like to lose, is a very poor sport, and will attempt almost anything short of selling his children to win. But I won't sell him out, even though he wasn't the one who had the birthday this particular weekend. Games with these guys, was a blast!

But even better, was when Ricci's boyfriend came over to meet her uncles for the first time.

Now, as Frank's wife, I had been sitting and eating with him, naturally and all. And when this poor, unsuspecting kid came in and sat down with us; Joe, the unbirthday bro-in-law, looks at me and says, with ALL seriousness, "Debbie, would you mind giving us a minute. Alone?"

I nodded to Joe, looked at the kid and said, "Good luck, " with all seriousness, of course. Then moved to the "wives" table. Where we quitely laughed like hyenas, holding our pee! And drank wine.

Aaaah, much better. Ricci, with her feeling-much-better-now friend; Jesse, Vanessa and of course, Javier - Rocco's cousin.

Jesse and Benny. He is so very sweet. He doesn't mind at all if you step on him; he will lie right there. He is a rescued Greyhound. A creampuff. Aren't these girls beautiful!?

philip and Alec making goofy faces. And boxing Nicholas. My girls didn't come along for the trip, they were at their Dad's. What a ride.

We hit a pretty bad snowstorm on the way down; saw too many accidents to count, one car, literally slid out in front of us. three or four tractor-trailers jack-knifed. That was MY turn to drive, too. But I enjoy driving in those conditions. It doesn't bother me; I remain calm then, thank you, Lord. I know that is where I get it. Frank drove all the way home, which was sunny and dry and also put me in the middle of the van. I think that may have thrown me back into the Migraine storm I've been in. Who knows? Between the trip and the constant weather changing, it's hard to say.


Philip left yesterday and is getting ready again for yet another deployment. His father is stresed and concerned for him, as are the rest of his family. As for Philip, he just seems so anxious to want out of the military. To be home with his family, and to be away from the states doing something, anything else. How sad.


As for me, the continuing aura and banging and stabbing are at it again and again and again. And now my poor Cinderissa has the Flu. At least I can wait on her and try to make her feel better.


Hoping someone is pain-free
Deborah

Village Idiot

Hello incredibly neglected site. Yes, it's been a very long time. In fact, the last time I was here, I wrote about this; the flu. My very loyal pup was curled up on me, as usual, no doubt wishing it away.

Now it's my turn. My idiot is ill. Oh, let's clearify something here for the record, shall we. He is NOT allowed on the couch. NOT NOT NOT. He waits until I'm in a subconcious state, and sneaks up ever so quietly. Marisa takes the pics when she comes in from school. He's such a bad boy. A very loyal, bad boy.

On Sunday, when Frank and I were at the grocery, he decided to buy him a chewy. A very loooong chewy. I kid you not, it was as long as my arm. Let's just measure my arm for arguments sake - ok, 2 feet! Yeah, the dog, appropriately dubbed, The Idiot, from here on as he'll be known, received a two foot long chewy on Sunday. For the record. On each end of the chewy, were nubs the size of well, Frank's fists. We're not talking a small bone, here.

We expected this, as Frank said, would "keep him busy for a while." This is the same village Idiot, who when we would give both he and our (my beloved Shepard) Luke each a chewy, would take both bones, lay on top of Luke's and chew his incessantly until it was gone, and then finish off Luke's.

The idea of "keep him busy," wasn't going to happen. As he suffers from a little thing called, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Hmmmm, looking at Frank and I, one can only assume where he gets it.

As of Sunday evening, he had completely devoured one entire fist from the chewy. Devour, as in no longer existing. He ate it. He is disgusting. Now when I say, he ate it, let me explain the way the Idiot eats the chewy. Oh the sound effects......

Once he has removed the incredibly gooey fist, he is now chewing and swallowing with his eyes closed. I am now reminded of a cow. Why you ask? Cud. He stands up to barf the chewy back up, only to chew it again. Oh, yes, Frank - you were right, this indeed IS keeping him busy. "Gaagggg, gaggggg, gaaggggg, ralph" up comes the chewy. And he begins to chew it again. Eyes closed and he is ecstatic once again.

I on the other hand, have my nose in my shirt. My eyes are watering, and I hear the gagging again; only it is my own this time. I am. totally. disgusted. Now running out of the room and gagging, and hearing Frank laughing at me, yelling at Idiot at the same time. I hate this dog sometimes.

Monday morning, as I wake up, I notice that Idiot is terribly eager to get out the door. "Hmmm, must be he needs to go out," I'm thinking to myself. he's usually a pretty late sleeper. I usually need to force him out of the bedroom. As I'm headed to the stairway, ready to put one foot down the first step, the Idiot flies by me so fast, he hits my leg as I'm ready to go down and knocks me down the first two steps. I land on my butt.

He's not headed for the door, but for his chewy. He's bouncing from front to back haunches, over-excited. I. am pissed. Sitting hard, mind you, on the step, in the dark of the stairs, watching him jump-for-joy as he throws his chewy up in the air, pushes it across the floor as it lands. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Stupid dog.

I hadn't really kept much of an eye on him throughout the day; and in retrospect, I should have. It was a busy day. Because of the snow and ice storm, the kids were delayed two hours from school and I had a few appointments I needed to take care of.

By dinnertime, we noticed that he had only one fist left to the chewy. He had eaten the rest. No doubt, gagging and barfing his way through it. Only to chew it again.

Tuesday, it was gone. and Idiot wasn't feeling so good. Not only did he barf up chewy, he just barfed. All over his blanket. On Tuesday. And then lastnight - WHILE WE ATE DINNER. indeed, I do hate this dog. This, he did on his blanket in the living room, which is next to our diningroom TABLE.

Luckily for the rest of us, that is Frank's job - cleaning up dog barf. I, on the other hand, made sure it went through the wash. Twice. (yes, in an eco-friendly way)

There is nothing more pleasurable for Idiot, than when he sees his blankets come up from the wash. It is almost impossible to fold them. Thankfully for his prong collar, I am able to keep him in a "stay" position - and why of course - I AM calm and submissive at that moment. He can barely contain himself.

Today, he is resting quite comfortably.

A very happy Idiot, indeed. Next week when the kids are off from school, guess what the smelly thing is going to get? A very much needed BATH!

Don't look at me like that, you stink! You are getting a bath. WITH shampoo AND soap AND yes, bubbles! You will smell better or you may not come back in.

Go back to sleep. Idiot.

Plagued, or Something Eerily Familiar

I should have known, and yet, when that still, small voice inside me was telling me; I shut it out. So in hindsight, I suppose, I did know.

Last Saturday, that would be whooo, Jan. 26! Yes, ok, two weeks ago then; the kids were at their Dad's and Frank was working. I was home by myself with this "strange pent up burst of energy" - you fellow Migraineurs out there know exactly where this is leading and what that means. That was also what the small voice was telling me.

Ms. Energy decided to not only do some laundry, (like 4 loads), but also clean the kitchen, and bedroom and my bathroom, sweep the main level, lower level, AND (yeah, there's still more, no kidding, I know, shocking) go grocery shopping. All in the morning. In one day. By myself. And I took a shower and got dressed. I know lot's of people do this and MORE - dare to dream, I did once, too. Hey, not anymore! this day was a rare one, folks. OH, I almost forgot, I also filled my own tank. Ooh la la. (does anyone else hear the mice singing from Cinderella???? No?)

When Frank got home from work, he got himself showered; and as he did, I made us a yummy light salad with (killer numero dos) pancetta and fennel - baked with some brown sugar, over some field greens. And a yummo light salad dressing with honey, red wine vinegar, lemon, olive oil and S&P that I usually only make in the summer why I just don't know anymore. Yeah, I was a busy girl.

He comes downstairs as I'm getting things on the table, takes one look at my smiling face and says: "You look awful!

I'm like, "What??? I feel fine!" I give him the rundown of my day, continue loading up plates, ignoring the still talking voice in my head, and he says: "I don't care, you look awful. Have you looked at your eyes? You look like a MIGRAINE!"

NO. NOT THAT! ANYTHING, BUT THAT! Well, not anything, but, you know what I mean.

And then comes Sunday. I wake up, yyyaaaawn, roll over, sit up, stand. Hmm, that's odd, my joints are feeling a little achy and my head hurts. Oh, yeah, and watch out for flying Aura. Houston, we also have sound-effects this morning, it's going to be a very bad day. Ahh, yes, now I remember, there was no sleep to be had lastnight. I wasn't dreaming, I was watching the Technicolor Aura show! Oh, this is so far from good.

"Frank, I don't feel so good. I ache and my head is bad. I'm going to the couch." And he has a little plumbing problem of his own.

Within an hour, I'm in full throttle of Migraine Attack. Frank comes running - "Deb, you never should have had the Pancetta! It's highly processed meat! No wonder you have a migraine. I knew you didn't look good."

He gets me my abortive. And we both recall that this came on before the Pancetta. OOps! on the Pancetta - I so know better, too. But it looked so yummy when Giada was making it on Friday, I HAD to try it. I never eat processed meats, I'm very careful if I can help it. (It was a delicious salad by the way!)

By mid-day, I was at a 9, complete with barfing (Nick's favorite and he hasn't stopped talking about it since, AND thanked me for making him laugh. brat) I never give in to the 10. I felt like garbage! I also felt something else coming over me. Something......Icky.

On Monday, when the Migraine lowered it's grasp on my skull, oh which by the way, was on the left side; I was feeling the Grim Reaper had come to my door and left a Casserole for me, perhaps. With a side of death. I had the FLU. I. could. not. move. my. body. seriously. I didn't get out of bed for Marisa. I don't think I got out of bed for Christina until she was getting out the door. Poor Nicholas, I don't even remember if he had breakfast that day. Or lunch, or how he got dressed, what he wore, nothing.

Every cell in my living breathing body hurt just to move. I was having trouble breathing, literally. I could not wait for his bus to get here to pick him up, just so I could go die! I laid on the couch in an upright position all day, so I could try to breath. Used my puffer, mucinex and drank water like there was no tomorrow.

Most of the week is really a fog of coughing, drinking water, trying to sleep, and dying to feel better. I kept thinking, "Dear, God; tomorrow, please let me better." Just to feel a teensy bit better. But God did make me feel better, just like I asked. Even if it was just a little bit.

Frank took Tuesday off of work, asked me if I wanted to go to the doctor, but I just couldn't, in the literal way, get myself out of bed. And I didn't. I stayed there for the entire day into Wednesday. I was either cold or sweating; there was no warm to be had. My body ached to be rubbed. I was hacking lung, well, I was trying but the darn thing refused to come up! I could feel it trying hard to break free. I coughed so hard, I gave myself a little tummy work-out! I had spasms, pains in my muscles, muscles I didn't think I'd even had, just from coughing. I had to start curling into a ball with a pillow just to cough.





Frank kept saying, "You should've gone to the doctor!" But I kept telling him, I just needed rest and my water, let me ride it out. Thankfully, I'm doing better today, didn't need antibiotics. And although I did lose a considerable amount of weight, that I didn't need to lose.





On Friday, we had us a little icy storm up here in the Northeast. We get them from time to time, and though they can be pretty scary and damaging, they are quite beautiful. Yesterday, after church, Christina and I grabbed my camera for some cool (ha, get it!) shots. Seems so befitting to this post. There was a light fog in there, too. Now this cemetary dates back to the 1800's, real cool. I love old cemetaries. Such history. I'm going to go back in the spring to get more. See if you can read this:



















By the way, this cemetary is just a hop, skip and a jump from us. Oh and congrats to the new Superbowl Champions THE NY GIANTS!!!!!!!!

And seriously hoping you are all pain-free today.

Deborah