Garlick on Toast

Andrea's Apron

2011-10-04T22:56:00.000-06:00

It has been almost a year since I posted the last blog.
I am not going to try to catch up.
I'm just starting where I am with a few minor historical facts.
My wrist has healed - mostly.
I had stomach surgery in November.
I have a new grandson - New total: 10 boys, 3 girls!
I am running again :) but not biking. :(
I started working at a quilt store part time.
I have a new blog called Sew Much Good.

This is where I publish tips and tutorials related to my own patterns by the same name - Sew Much Good.

I call them

Patterns that Teach

because you can go to my blog and learn the skills you need for the patterns.

So far I have two patterns - a Christmas Table Runner and an Apron.

My friend Andrea is a kitchen Fashion-ista! Her ruffled apron has been the envy of many a kitchen co-worker at various church events. I kept telling myself, "I have to make one of those aprons." When the Circa 1934 fabric from Moda came into the quilt store where I work I knew I had to act.

Voila! Andrea's Apron was born!

I published the pattern one day later. Check it out on my new blog!
(Give me one more day and it will be there.)

You may want to be a kitchen Fashion-ista, too!

Plaster Pete? No, Black Bart

2010-10-15T17:30:00.002-06:00

Sometimes you just have to advocate for yourself. I am my own best advocate for sure.
Monday morning this week I was through with Clint, the Splint. (see below)
He had worn out his welcome.
From my sleep-depriveded perspective, the relationship had to end.
He was making life miserable.

I know better than to advocate for myself over the phone so I (carefully) drove myself to the orthopedic surgeon's office and very nicely said "Either someone here unwraps this thing or I will."

I didn't think calling it Clint, the Splint would add to my case.

The nice lady behind the desk looked at her computer screen and said it didn't look like anyone was available. Maybe I could wait for my appointment on Thursday. We had a little discussion about 3 more nights with no sleep. She was really empathetic.

She went to check with someone further back in the office. When she came back she said she was really sorry but I should probably wait until Thursday and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES was I to unwrap it myself.

I looked at her with all the sincerity I could muster and asked, "What will happen to me if I do? Will I go to 'splint jail'?" (I am totally serious) Then I added very nicely, "I am here . . .and I will wait as long as I have to."

She looked at me for a couple of seconds and went back to talk it over again.

I can only imagine what she said. But she came back and said to take a seat and wait. . .
I couldn't sit with Clint so I stood and swayed. (It's a thing we mothers do for comfort.)
Thirty minutes later this lovely smiling face called me back . . .

(No way was I going to chance seeing the wires sticking out of my hand without my camera!)

I was prepared to plead my case but she said they would take the splint off, x-ray my hand and give me a cast. I confess wanting to hug her.

I didn't mention 'splint jail' and neither did she. . .

You can skip the next series if you have weak knees for medical stuff.

Barry would have been out in the hall for sure.

About right here I totally got why they didn't want me to unwrap Clint.

Notice the hardware. The dressing all stuck to it was apparently ruining my relationship with Clint.

So we proceeded to x-ray . . . You want my picture? She was taking pictures of me . . . fair is fair.

Here's the one she took. . . .

I have learned you just have to ask for things . . . that is if you really want them.

Next stop the cast room . . .

This series is much nicer. . .

So Clint was gone and I had a new friend for four weeks. Plaster Pete was really fiberglass not plaster . . .

and he lasted four days.

Something about not splaying my skinny little fingers out when we were doing the cast . . . my thumb turning purple on the end when my hand got warm. . . etc.

I promise it had nothing to do with a neighbor girl assuming I chose Red for the Utes!

What!? No!!

Any way today Plaster Pete was sawn asunder (literally) by Kendra the P.A and 'cast director' . . .

and replaced by Black Bart.

Here's hoping we get along better than his predecessors. Wish us luck.

Unwelcome Guest

2010-10-08T21:26:00.001-06:00

I have a new friend staying with me. I call him Clint. He's been around for a week now.

This morning I decided to take him out for a walk in the neighborhood.

On a beautiful October Fall day in northern Utah you'd expect to see Asters like these that greeted us.

But Marigolds that look like it's July!!??

And Petunias!!??

But the best one was this Rose peeking over my friend Sonda's fence.

It made me forget for just a minute that Clint was with me.

Now don't get me wrong.

Clint has been here for a reason and I have really needed him for the last week.

But I will not be sorry to see him go.

Let me introduce you to

Clint . . . the Splint.

I met Clint last Thursday after I fractured my scaphoid bone.

(I am not ready to disclose how this occurred . . . )

Exhibit A:
The Scaphoid

The scaphoid is one of the small bones in the wrist.

It is the wrist bone that is most likely to break.

The scaphoid is located on the thumb side of the wrist, in the area where the wrist bends.

The orthopedic surgeon attempted to place a small screw into the bone through a a small puncture incision like so-

Exhibit B:

(Left) This x-ray shows a scaphoid fracture fixed in place with a screw.

(Right) This x-ray was taken 4 months after surgery. The fracture of the scaphoid is healed.

But as my Luck would have it . . . the lower part of the scaphoid shattered and he had to open it up and pin it together like so-

Exhibit C:

X-ray of Eva's Wrist!

So now you know who Clint is and why I have needed him this last week.

He keeps me from seeing the wires sticking out of my wrist.

He will be with me until this next Thursday when he will be replaced by Plaster Pete.

Pete and I will be together MUCH longer.

We'll be walking in the snow together for sure.

(This Blog was prepared single-handedly by me.)

Back to School

2010-09-29T22:24:00.010-06:00

I spent last Friday morning

with three of my favorite people . . . at their school.

May I introduce some of you to Dallin . . .
whose teacher, Mr. S., is a big JAZZ fan.

And this is Joseph . . .

And here is Alli . . .

We had a great time! Thanks for letting me be your Grandma Eva! Hugs & Kisses.

P.S. So happy that you,
Noah

and Hannah

are getting a

new baby next year!

He or she will be our

lucky 13th!!!

Mountain Bike Swan Song or Down but not OUT

2010-09-02T10:32:00.010-06:00

Wow. Apparently summer was not good for blogging. Never mind. We are looking forward not backward.

After putting 1100+ miles on my mountain bike I finally caved and let Barry buy new bikes for us.

It would be well to understand at the outset that I was the quintessential reluctant cyclist. Barry gently suggested for years (well at least a few years) that we should get bikes. No, I said. I like my skin and I did not want to leave any on the pavement. In my mind, that was the eventual and inevitable result of bike riding. At some point you were going to crash and that was not my idea of a good time.

Three years ago I realized that Barry's chronic hamstring problem was not going to get better and we were not going to be running together. He needed to bike. Not wanting to be left out we both got mountain bikes. Not those fast, skinny-tired, road bikes with seats that try to sever . . . well, you know. . . We got sturdy, stable, gel seated mountain bikes. (or at least mine had a nice wide gel seat.)

What can I say? I was hooked and much to Barry's delight as were riding around North Utah county in the early mornings together, I thanked him over and over for talking me into a bike. Why didn't we do this years ago, I'd ask. Well, I knew the answer to that and bless him, he NEVER rubbed it in.

Barry is very patient with me. It took him a year to talk me into riding up the mountain to the top of Suncrest but that was a turning point. I was empowered!! After a couple of times I didn't even brake coming down. Zoom! Straight down!

This year we started riding longer and longer distances.

Then it hit me. I wanted to do some loooong road rides and it wasn't going to happen on a mountain bike. Maybe it was that guy who went by us on the way up Suncrest that said, "Wow! You guys are great on those heavy bikes." Translation: What are you two oldies doing pushing those heavy bikes up this hill?!

Sometime in June, I mentioned that maybe we should give our bikes to Julie and Ryan to take to Pennsylvania so they could ride with their kids. Barry was just waiting for the chance to justify new bikes and this was his opening. Finally on July 4th I said let's do it. He grabbed his keys and headed for the door to go shopping before I could change my mind.

So the bikes went with Jules & Ry and we got new bikes. Much lighter - much skinnier tires.

No matter how heavy it was . . . I admit an emotional attachment to my mountain bike. We had been very intimately connected for a lot of miles. That bike took my resting heart rate down to 46. That bike made me love riding.

So when we drove out to Pennsylvania a couple of weeks ago I was still excited to take her out for a final spin. . . .

Early Monday morning the mist was rising over the green hills of PA . . . We didn't even make it out of the parking lot. Let me paint a brief sketch. Coming a steep hill, up over the edge of the asphalt, a very steep gravel downhill run was staring me in the face. I decided I didn't want to go there. Pulled up on the back and FRONT (no, no) brakes and went down hard on my left elbow and hip.

Here's a little glimpse at the result. Nurse Ryan was kind enough to bandage up my arm for the trip home that day.

After the one hour ride to the Pittsburgh airport and the ensuing flight home to Salt Lake City I had a fully mature bruise and sizable hematoma on my upper thigh. Big bummer.

It just happens that I was scheduled for a Nissen-Fundoplication (look that one up) on Thursday morning last week. My surgeon is a cool guy and a cyclist. He understood the injury (from first hand experience) but said no surgery until it resolves. The risk of infection in that stagnant collection of blood is too great. (Happy thought.) If that happened it would have to be opened and drained. (Happier thought.)

So the surgery is on hold and I missed one day of biking last week. Down but not OUT!! We biked 30 miles on Saturday just for good measure. But the surgery has been postponed twice now and if I can't have it next Thursday, September 9, I have to wait until October because of the doctor's schedule.

I am totally open to any remedies to hasten the resolution of a hematoma. Any suggestions?

I am icing it (tried heat) and I slept with tobacco on it last night. I am totally serious.

Just think of this picture: The Bishop and his wife getting the clerk at the local Smith's Marketplace to unlock the case so we can buy some chewing tobacco. That should give you a grin today.

I am completely convinced I will never be a mountain trail rider. I have done the mountain bike Swan Song in the parking lot and it was doozie!

Bad News, Good News

2010-05-04T12:10:00.013-06:00

The last week has been a Bad News, Good News kind of week for me. I wasn't going to post anything about it . . . Just try and ignore it but I started looking for some material for the post and started laughing and thought I 'd go for it

Here's some random humor that gave me some random laughs and put things into perspective:

That is more than optimism.

The next one is ridiculous (and tasteless) but so FUNNY!

Putting a good face on it :) . . .

Let's just get it right out there . . . most of the time not only are we not in control of things but we don't even know what is going on . . .

And here's my favorite . . . maybe it's the cancer word . . . where did they get this picture??!!

Sometimes you just have to have fun with it!!!!

So here goes my list for the week . . .

Good News:

I went 6 days after Radioactive Iodine treatment with NO SIDE EFFECTS. I felt like they gave me a multi vitamin pill instead of a radiation loaded poison. I was feeling like I had dodged the bullet!

Bad News:

On day six-- long after any expected effects -- my lymph glands in my neck started protesting big time. They got big and sore. And got bigger and sorer with each passing day.

Good News: My radiologist gave me his cell phone number and said to call him with any problem. I did. He was great.

Bad News: He was out of the Hospital for the week.

More Bad News: My surgeon was out of town for the week.

Good News: My surgeon's partner would see me to save me from the dreaded Emergency Room.

Bad News: (Not new news) Your lymph glands are very swollen and inflammed.

GOOD NEWS & MAYBE BEST NEWS: CLOSER EXAMINATION (A TWIST-Y SCOPE THROUGH MY NOSE TO MY LARYNX) SHOWS NO EVIDENCE OF NERVE DAMAGE OR NERVE TRAUMA. YOUR VOICE MOST LIKELY WILL RECOVER OVER TIME WHEN ALL SWELLING AND TRAUMA TO THE AREA IS HEALED. (Barry was really happy about this news. I am cautiously optimistic.)

Bad News: You need to take Prednisone (steriod) in big doses for 3-7 days to reduce inflammation and swelling of glands in your neck.

Good News: This will work quickly and you will have lots of energy. (It has and I do.)

Bad News: You will not be able to SLEEP while on this medicine.

Good News ?!?: You will get lots of reading done in the middle of the night when it is quiet.

Bad or Good News: This will only last a few more days.

This seems appropriate somehow:

Conclusion:

Glass half full:

The left over little thyroid cells are getting zapped, the prednisone is saving my lymph glands from further damage, the sun is shining, I am getting things done and I am over halfway through this with steroid and tapering off.

All good news in the end!!!!

Free and Dangerous

2010-04-23T17:48:00.019-06:00

The long awaited release from Food Jail arrived on Wednesday!

I pulled up at St. Mark's Hospital just after lunch. Ooopps. No one told me I shouldn't eat for 2 hours before coming. Oh well. By the time I swallowed the poison . . . Stop! That's getting ahead of the story.

Here is the pleasant lady that got me checked in. Now she doesn't look like someone who would poison you, does she?

She isn't.

She sent me to wait here. There was a lot of sending and waiting in this process.

This is Nancy. She is as nice as she looks. She isn't someone who would poison you, either.

She asked me lots of questions and sent me to wait here.

Because I had to have two pre-poison injections, one on Monday and one on Tuesday I am getting very familiar with this room and this young woman who is in charge here.

St. Marks is just finishing a remodel. I feel like I have a vested interest in this new carpet and furniture. My pre-poison injections came with a price-tag of $1000 EACH! Yikes.

I don't have any pictures of the Nuclear Medicine Tech who escorted me to the next waiting station. He was very uptight.

I asked if I could take his picture and he stopped dead in his tracks and said, "NO."

He proceeded with a strong little talk about HIPA and patient information going out on the internet.

I smiled as I put my camera away and thought. . . "You just blew your one chance to be part of Garlickontoast. Too bad for you."

When he got to the door with the electronic keypad lock I felt like a secret agent with Mission Impossible.

As soon as the door was closed, of course I took out my camera again. Any risk for the blog!

What were they protecting in here with the electronic keypad security!!??

My uptight Tech had labeled my wrist so if I did manage to get out with my HIPA-breach photos I could be identified . . . .

Here I was going to post the picture of my wrist band but thought better of it in case some one wanted to steal my medical identity and use it to have liposuction . . . or something.

No foolin'. That's what's happening in Cali.

After I had taken pictures of this exciting room and my own wrist band, I heard the little beeps of the electronic key pad and in walked the man I had been waiting for. Dr. Weiss - the head poisoner.

I told him that his Tech was pretty up tight about my camera. This was his reaction.

Actually he said, "Make sure to bring your camera with you next week and get a picture of the camera that does your whole body scan."

I really, really like this guy. He is my favorite radiologist. (I have seen three this year.)

He took care of the Tech who it turned out was the real poisoner. When he fetched me from this little lock-up, he apologized and said I could use my camera as long as I didn't take pictures of any patients or patient info.

No way did I tell him about my wrist band picture. He may have demanded my memory card.

So we went through here.

And by the time I got to here I was beginning to feel like a secret agent, again.

Then I saw it!!! The poison.

I said, " So, do you touch that?" The Tech said, "I open it and tip out the capsule. Then I want you to swallow it as quickly as you can." That translated to me, "Get it inside your body as fast as you can so it won't hurt me."

When this huge blue capsule appeared, I thought for just a split second, "What if I don't want to??!!"

Gulp.

"Wait one hour before you eat." "What!? I was planning on the fish taco drive-through on the way home. Darn."

I am now free from Food Jail but DANGEROUS

I cannot be within 8 feet of anyone for 3 days--Kids and pregnant women for 7 days.

Not exactly true. I can go to the store, by myself, if I keep moving.

I have advanced from secret agent to fugitive.

I made a quick stop at Walmart today and saw someone from my neighborhood. I felt like I had been caught! I didn't even stop to talk. I'll have to explain to her later.

Evidently I have a GAMMA aura. I am sleeping downstairs, away from Barry, for 5 nights and drinking gallons of water to flush it out of my system.

It's not all bad. Barry is cooking me delicious food which he serves up and sets out on the counter for me to collect while he steps away. And he cleans it all up except for my dishes which I take downstairs to wash separately. What a sweetie he is. He even made fresh tortillas for the fish tacos. YUMMMM!!! No more store bought tortillas for me!

All this separation would get old quickly but it's just until Saturday. Can't wait to get back in my kitchen.

No worries. We're all fine here. Nothing that fish tacos can't cure.

Food Jail

2010-04-12T16:19:00.010-06:00

Since last Wednesday I have been in Food Jail.

These are the things that are against the law:

Dairy products

No milk

No cheese

No butter & margarine

No yogurt

No chocolate

No ice cream . . . you get the picture . . .

Egg Yolks

Iodized Salt or Sea Salt

This means every canned or prepared food item in the store -- including ketchup, mustard, mayo, bread, spaghetti sauce, chips and salsa.

Did you know you can buy salt without iodine?

Did you even know that your salt has added iodine?

Sea food

No fish tacos!!!! These are a staple in our diet.

Dried fruit

I haven't started craving Craisins . . . YET.

Red kidney beans, pinto beans, navy beans or lima beans

No problem on that last one.

Rhubarb

Molasses

Red dye #30

My lipstick has red dye #30 but I refused to go to church without it. This gets into your skin without you even eating it.

I have been doing more "from scratch" cooking than usual in this restricted circumstance.

In the last few days I have made pancakes with eggs whites and water instead of buttermilk.

Not bad. . .

Crackers with garlic and flax seed.

Mmmmmm. Those were actually really good. Barry likes them better than store bought and my grandkids gave them a thumbs-up.

Fresh Pico de Gallo

No complaint there.

Rolls with oil and no milk.

This is NOT a keeper.

Lots of salad dressings.

These may cause me to give up buying salad dressings altogether. They are great.

None of these things has satisfied my craving for this . . .

I just can't think about it!!! 10 more days of Food Jail to go.

O.K. Why am I in Food Jail?

Well . . . it seems that not all of my little thyroid cells could be extricated by surgery and they all

Have To GO!

So in 10 days I get to ingest Radioactive Iodine that is powerful enough to kill them.

Food Jail (where iodine is against the law) will make all of those little cells starved for the iodine they crave. Then they will suck up all the Radioactive Iodine and die. They will be dead and I will be out of Jail!!!

That's not usually how it works . . .

Singing Lesson (or Healing is a process)

2010-03-21T16:35:00.021-06:00

Since my surgery 46 days ago, some things have healed remarkably well.

Take the incision for example.

This was then:

and this is now:

I am fairly confident that at this rate, at some point in the not too distant future it will be little more than a faint white line that hides in the folds of my aging neck. :)

Well . . . most of that thought was really positive.

However . . . not everything has healed quite that well or at least not at that rate.

Exhibit A . . . . Recurrent Laryngeal Nerve

If you are not recognizing it or haven't been in anatomy class lately, it is all that stringy looking stuff and it controls the larynx. During thyroidectomy it can get roughed up because it's in the way--mine did because it was really in the way--and it can recover or . . . not.

What this translates to is NO NOTES. Half of my vocal fold is paralyzed. I can talk -- like I'm auditioning for the Godfather -- but sing . . . Well, we will just say that when I try it I have four baritone notes and the rest sounds like a hound dog with a stomach ache. Besides the sound being painful to listen to it takes a somewhat Herculian effort just to produce. (This is no exaggeration -- not even for the sake of the blog.) Every time I attempt to sing -- just trying it out again -- Barry laughs. This requires explanation. He doesn't laugh at me . . . he laughs because the sound is so ridiculously awful neither of us can believe it. I laugh, too and then we both weep.

I think I started to sing when I started to talk. Song has been the deepest expression of my soul. It's as if my spirit could somehow flow out of me on notes. I could feel things and communicate things with my singing voice that have no other form of expression.

It got turned off 46 days ago.

The first week in church after surgery, I hung my head during the hymns and tried to hold back the tears. I mostly succeeded. The next week I decided to pick up my head and smile at the chorister and think about what we were singing. It was better. But I couldn't let my eyes meet Barry's sitting up in the front or it was all over.

Fast forward to last Sunday. Trying to smile while everyone else was singing was getting old. It was not so much feeling sorry for myself but feeling left out. They were praising God and I wasn't. The thought came to me -- just mouth it. I resisted it. I would feel silly -- conspicuous. Then I thought, only the person next to you will even know that you aren't making any sound. Just try it.

I did. At first it felt a little . . . empty. Well, yeah . . . something was missing. But it felt better. I was doing something. After I got past feeling like I was pantomiming or maybe "hamming," I found myself "singing" (or rather mouthing) like I really meant it. Because even without the sound I really DID mean it.

That's when it happened. Suddenly, I wasn't left out! I was worshiping with everyone else. My heart was singing, my spirit was singing and my lips were singing. No sound, but I WAS singing! And it was oh, so sweet.

Fast forward again to this week. This no longer feels like an irreverent "lipsync" or gospel "karaoke." I am really feeling pretty comfortable with this silent singing. When the young lady sitting next to me offered to share the hymnal, I said, "Thank you. I sing but I don't make any noise." I just wanted to give her a heads up. She seemed perfectly fine with it. :)

One of my coping mechanisms is to pretend I am singing through the voice of someone around me. Today it was the particularly sweet voice of a young mother who is about to deliver her 6th baby. It works pretty well.

Later in Relief Society I got another unexpected lesson. I opened the hymnal and began to silently sing the opening song. Half-way through the first verse I started to hear this amazing sound around me. It was like something tangible and I felt like I could almost see it and touch it.

"Our Savior's love, shines like the sun with perfect light,

As from above It breaks thru clouds of strife.

Lighting our way, It leads us back into his sight,

Where we may stay, To share eternal life."

The voices around me were amazing. Pure and strong like the spirits of the women there. I was surrounded by their harmony and it enveloped me.

"The Spirit, voice Of goodness, whispers to our hearts

A better choice Than evil's anguished cries.

Loud may the sound Of hope ring till all doubt departs,

And we are bound To him by loving ties."

Whoa! Those words, this sound, it was all for me at that moment. And it filled me with joy and hope and gave me renewed strength to be happy and trusting.

Why had I never heard the singing quite like that? Could it be that most of the time in the past I had been so involved in making the sound that I hadn't been really listening? Hmmmm.

So here are some of my conclusions.

The wonderful blessings of group worship (and many other things) come to us as we exert ourselves to participate. They are not diminished by our limitations, perceived or real. When we bring what we have it is accepted, acknowledged and blessed. I offered all I had today and I was filled.

I would never wish this silent singing on anyone, but I am beginning to see that in the silence I am hearing new things. Make no mistake, I have been praying that my voice will heal. But if that is not to be, I have been praying for a joyful spirit. Today while I silently sang my heart was filled with joy and hope.

What an amazing singing lesson! What a tender mercy!

Savior, Redeemer of my soul,

Whose mighty hand hath made me whole,

Whose wondrous pow’r hath raised me up

And filled with sweet my bitter cup!

What tongue my gratitude can tell,

O gracious God of Israel.

Never can I repay thee, Lord,
But I can love thee.Thy pure word,
Hath it not been my one delight,
My joy by day, my dream by night?
Then let my lips proclaim it still,
And all my life reflect thy will.

O’errule mine acts to serve thine ends.
Change frowning foes to smiling friends.
Chasten my soul till I shall be
In perfect harmony with thee.
Make me more worthy of thy love,
And fit me for the life above.

I can honestly say I am looking forward to more singing lessons. And the healing they will bring.

New Year! New Life!

2010-03-12T10:09:00.006-07:00

So maybe your New Year started in January but I feel like mine is starting today!

January was full of doctor visits -- two or three a week.

February started with surgery and then recovery. Part of recovery was being "buzzed" on a temporary thyroid replacement.

Wow!! - I could go on less than 6 hours of sleep but I couldn't run a mile in less than 11 minutes because my heart rate was up about 15 beats per minute.

Yesterday my new endocrinologist said I could stop the "buzz" and start getting back to normal with my new life long friend, levothyroxine. This morning I really WORKED out!!! Hurray!!! It's looking like a Happy New Year!

Now if I could just sing . . . Ooops . . . just a little slip there . . . One thing at a time. Patience and gratitude are required for this Happy New Year!

Getting attention . . .

2010-02-09T13:36:00.021-07:00

It's almost Valentine's Day! What does every woman want? How about some flowers. . .

These came Friday . . .

These came Saturday . . .

These came yesterday morning . . .

These came yesterday afternoon . . .

These came this morning . . .

I have FLOWERS!

How about some candy and treats!?

No problem. This week I've gotten candy and treats. . .

Oh yummmm. Carrot cake, my favorite!

I've even been gifted other yummy food . . . like this wild rice chicken soup. . .

Muffins and sweet bread . . .

It hasn't ended there.

Doesn't every woman love cards and gifts?

This week I've had cards and gifts.

And even a little BLING!

And it's not even Valentine's Day yet! How did I manage all of this?

I will share my secret with you but I will confess . . . There is probably an easier way. . .

Get your surgeon to cut a smiley face on your neck and you should get all the attention you want!!! (Maybe more than you want.)

P. S. I have to admit I do feel loved.

My Real Man . . . eats Sushi

2009-06-23T09:35:00.008-06:00

You know that old assertion that real men eat quiche?

Well my REAL MAN eats sushi.

He not only eats sushi he loves sushi. Maybe it's because he has spent his fair share of time in Japan.

So . . . when I saw a gadget that makes assembling sushi a snap! I knew I had the perfect Father's Day gift for him.

I ordered it covertly online and when it came I hid it under the bed for weeks.

I carefully assembled most of the ingredients (not the raw fish) ahead of time and hid them in various places in the kitchen where I thought he would not notice.

Did I tell you that this guy is VERY hard to surprise? I have only managed to do it a few times in the last 36 years.

So on Saturday afternoon I revealed my little plot and he was just as excited as I had hoped he would be. He couldn't wait to get to the store and find the raw fish!

Sunday afternoon we pulled all the stuff out from the various hiding places and had a GREAT time making Sushi.

It was delicious. But that wasn't the best part. . . .

The best part was the smile on my REAL MAN's face.

He does so many things for me I am so glad I can do this little thing to make him smile on Father's Day. He loves sushi and it is just one of the reasons I love HIM!

P.S. On Monday we did Sashimi!!

Homecoming !!!

2009-04-20T11:23:00.002-06:00

After a wonderful couple of days in the mission with Hermana Garlick, we returned from Tampa on Friday evening. Here is the greeting at the airport by the neices and nephews in the Salt Lake Area.

It is bittersweet to see it end. We are thrilled to have her close by once again and hear about her experiences but we are sad to see her faithful service as fulltime representative of Jesus Christ come to an end. Everyone who has had the experience can relate.

Party Time !!!!!

2009-04-10T16:21:00.002-06:00

This is only half of them! I am the self-proclaimed mini-cupcake queen!

And what, you may ask, has prompted this baking frenzy? Karin will be home next week and we are having an open house. Ya'll are invited.

Saturday, April 18. Family 3 p.m. to 5 p.m. and friends (and family that didn't make it earlier) at 6 p.m. Our house.

Karin will also be speaking at our Sacrament Meeting, Sunday, April 19th at 11 a.m. Our building is on the corner of 9600 N. and 6800 W. in Highland.

Hope we see a lot of friends and family next weekend.

Trick, Trick . . .

2009-03-26T11:20:00.001-06:00

My poor mint. What a dirty trick of nature!

Remember the mint?

2009-03-24T10:08:00.005-06:00

I underestimated the mint.

What was I thinking!?

I was thinking that even mint . . . that invasive barracuda plant . . . couldn't survive the winter when confined to a pot.

I was trying to transfer my own 'stuck in the pot' (or house) for the winter feelings to the mint.

But the mint has survived it all and now that the warmth of Spring has begun to touch it . . . Look at it!!

I survived, too, and the mint is now my new favorite potted plant. In fact I 'm going to get more -- varieties-- and have a little potted mint garden for summer.

If any body wants some of this mint just come and get it. It will outgrow this pot and need to be divided.

Bonus: You can't kill it! Just don't let it out of the pot!

Stimulated . . .

2009-03-02T10:55:00.004-07:00

I've been wondering lately. . .

Am I the only one that has the feeling that the Washington politicians are trying to make something be so because they say it will be so?

Like how does this work? When I max-out my credit card . . . Oh, I know!!! I'll just go get another one!!! And pay the first one off with it and I can keep buying. Then everything will be cool again.

This sarcasm really doesn't fit me very well but sometimes you just have to stop and wonder . . .

Mallard Fillmore is my FAVORITE comic strip. (I read three others regularly -- right after my crypto addiciton.) And today I just had to share.

I also like Bizarro. This is where I'd be if I was in the White House. . .

You just have to start Monday with a little humor.

I'll try for something more profound and uplifting tomorrow. . .

Christopher 'Ham'

2009-02-25T07:11:00.002-07:00

This is what happens when you point the camera at a "seasoned" model. Me with the camera, Christopher at his kitchen table in Portland last week. Oooooh it was a fun week with him.

She keeps on giving. . .

2009-02-24T22:03:00.005-07:00

Yesterday I was thinking about a special girl. My friend Tammy asked me to help her out by embroidering a quilt block she wanted to make but just couldn't get done. I agreed before I knew how healing it would be.

Tammy's 16 year old daughter, Lindsay, died last October in a car accident. Lindsay was one of those "loved by all" angels. Her infectious smile and happy disposition and giving heart touched countless people in her short life. 1200 people attended her funeral.

When Tammy brought me the quilt block she explained that Lindsay had been an organ donor and was able to give her heart valves and corneas. Someone can now see because of her. The quilt block was her part in a memorial quilt to honor donors. As I stitched yesterday I thought of Lindsay and how she is still giving. I thought of Tammy and the ache in her heart. I thought about giving.

Thanks Tammy for letting me give . . . just a few stitches.

A Love Affair . . . or a Running History

2009-02-17T09:12:00.003-07:00

This morning I sneaked out the door before Christopher (or anyone else) was awake and went for a long walk. My running shoes are in Utah and I am in Oregon. As I was heading back I started to reminisce. (Once you hit the half century mark you start doing more of this.)

I thought about the first time I went "running." We were living in Walnut Creek, California and Brian (my third baby) was 4 1/2 months old. I was 25 pounds overweight and my baby was more interested in grabbing a pork chop off my dinner plate than in bonding time with me. I was ready to wean the little piker! I had driven around our block a few times and measured it at 1 mile. I thought I could make it around that even if I had to walk part of the way. But how was I going to get out of the house to test my theory?

Then the stars aligned and the moment of truth arrived. Was I serious or not? I watched a friend's little girl while she went for a well-baby check with her newborn. When she came back I decided to call in the favor on the spot and take the plunge. I said, "Could you just stay here with my kids for a few minutes? I have something I want to do." She was willing so I ran to the bedroom and found my Keds (?!). I knew nothing about running shoes.

With excited, nervous energy I started out around the block. I ran as far as I could then walked a few yards and ran again. The whole thing was over and I was back within 15 minutes. But it was a start! Within a month I was getting up in the dark and running three quarters of the way around the block and turning around and running back so that I ran a mile and a half. By the time I got to two miles I had very sore heels and Achilles tendons. I mean Keds! Puh-leeeeze! The thought makes me shudder now.

Barry suggested that I should look for some running shoes if I was really serious about this thing. It wasn't easy but I found a pair of Nikes for women. Women who were running were wearing men's shoes but they were too wide for my 10AA feet.

By this time I also had a partner. I had asked around among the women at church to see if anyone was interested in running. I mostly got vacant looks. But one new move-in named Susan said she had done some running but wasn't currently. I think I badgered her for three weeks until she finally agreed to go with me. We became fast friends. (Not fast runners yet!)

That was February 1979! 30 years later, I still love running. It has been a great love affair.

Enough . . .

2009-02-08T09:17:00.003-07:00

This has been circulating around the internet but I thought it had some merit and I wanted to share it. Nice thoughts for the Sabbath. . .

Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, 'I love you and I wish you enough'.

The daughter replied, 'Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom'.
They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'.

Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?'.

'I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,' she said.

'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?'.

She began to smile. 'That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone'. She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I wish you enough', we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them'. Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

May we all be blessed with enough.

Perennial in a Pot . . .

2009-02-04T12:22:00.004-07:00

per⋅en⋅ni⋅al [puh-ren-ee-uhl]
–adjective
1. lasting for an indefinitely long time; enduring: her perennial beauty.
2. (of plants) having a life cycle lasting more than two years.
3. lasting or continuing throughout the entire year, as a stream.
4. perpetual; everlasting; continuing; recurrent.
–noun
5. a perennial plant: Daffodils and tulips are perennials.
6. something that is continuing or recurrent.

About 4 years ago I got this really brilliant idea to plant mint in a remote corner of my yard. I planted it so that it had some room to spread but it was cornered by cement on two sides. For any garden novices, mint spreads by underground roots, is very aggressive and it is a tough perennial. It is a barracuda plant! It is not deterred by bad soil, cold winters or even sporadic drought . . . natural or the forgetful gardener kind.

All was well for a couple of years and then I realized that my darling mint was trying to creep (invade) into the neighbor's yard by traveling under the hefty cement mow strip along the fence line. I wanted to stay friends in the neighborhood so I undertook killing the mint. It was an amazing project. Let's just say the mint had taken root! I sprayed and ripped and dug! It took another season to conquer the mint.

But I love mint and I want it in the summer. So as I was ripping out what the Roundup didn't kill I threw some in a pot close to the kitchen. It thrived all summer and was close at hand when I wanted lime-honey-ginger-mint on my fresh pineapple.

When frost came I put it next to the house for protection. Now from where I sit at my kitchen table this is what I see.

Even mint does not survive in a pot in the winter. Every time I look at it, I think, "There is a lesson there." I know what my lesson is. You'll have to think about yours. All lessons aside, I'm not letting the 'mint out of the pot' again so I can't wait to find some in the spring for my pot and I cannot wait to go running outside again in the Spring!

I am a 'sew and sew'. . .

2009-02-01T15:49:00.005-07:00

I don't even know if that term is used anymore but when I was a little girl my mother would say, "Oh she is such a so and so. . ." I'm guessing it meant that whoever she might be referring to was a real character. Well, I hope I am not that kind of a so and so but I am a real sew and sew. I love to sew and I don't do nearly enough of it to satisfy me. But every few months I get to do something that really feeds my creative cravings.

I hate sewing under pressure and I really don't like doing what I call 'down and dirty' sewing. I like to do the kind of sewing that takes time and gives lots of attention to details and I try to get it as close to perfection as I can. I know that kind of sewing drives most people crazy but for me it just feeds something inside of me. Maybe it is the quest for that long 'four letter' word -- perfection.

Some people have told me that I should start a business or try to sell my dresses. Never! That would totally ruin it! A big part of my sewing is that most often I am doing it for love. And being able to give a gift that makes someone happy is where it's at. This one is for my friend Cami. She was sick just about her whole pregnancy but her darling little Scotlyn was born in January.

Besides hating to sew under pressure I have a reason for sewing things up ahead of time. This dress won't be worn until March but it will hang in my sewing room where I can see it for the whole month of February. It will take me that long to bond with it. Dresses like this take a long time to create -- first in my mind, then on paper and finally on the sewing machine. I need time to look at it and absorb it. Then I can give it away. Kind of like children.

A New Brother for Christopher

2009-01-14T19:19:00.000-07:00

I thought I would indulge myself and post a few more pictures of Andrew and Christopher. Here Andrew is looking like the cap is a bit tight.

"Wow, Mom. This is a cool new brother you made for me. He's got eyes and a nose and everything."
"Hey! You caught Dad eating the hospital food!!
"See! Aren't we just the cutest!!??"

Goings and Comings . . .

2009-01-10T11:11:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled to announce the arrival of Andrew Dale Garlick, born last night at 7:23 pm, PST. He weighed in at 7lbs. 14oz. and is 19 3/4" long. Here you see him taking a little snooze in the arms of his mother, Kristin Catmull Garlick. He made is entrance at St. Vincent Hospital in Portland, Oregon. Just down the street (as a matter of speaking) from where his Dad, Davin, was born during THE BIG windstrom, November 14, 1981. Who would have thought!!??!!

I love those "OK. Now where have I gotten myself to?" looks.

Kristin poses here after what she termed her "dream delivery." Thanks for taking care of that in the daytime for us so there were no all-night "nail biters" for the grandparents. Good job!!! We love you. You are a "dream."

So. . . some go and some come. Barry and I couldn't help reflecting on our friend's son leaving earth this week while our dear little Andrew came.

Goings and comings. This is life. And as my Mother observed after 87 years of goings and comings, "Life isn't what I thought." My thinking is, "If life isn't what we think then we'd better listen to another mother who said, 'Come what may and love it.'" Life is good.

P.S. The count now stands at 9 grandsons and 2 granddaughters.

Heartache. . .

2009-01-08T08:18:00.000-07:00

Last night I was writing a post when an email came in from my friend and first college roommate, Wynette. This is us at our recent dorm reunion.

Her third son, Bryce was killed in an accident on I-15 near Spanish Fork, yesterday morning. Bryce just returned in October from a mission to South Africa. This is her beautiful boy.

All our 'mother hearts' ache for her. You can read more about this precious boy on Wynette's blog. The link is on the right under 'My blogs.'

Grandma Day

2009-01-08T07:09:00.001-07:00

Yesterday Alli and Noah came for an hour while their mom, Alisa, went to help at Joseph and Dallin's school. Alli is 4 and talks non-stop. Noah is 7 months and smiles non-stop but yesterday he didn't feel well and he couldn't smile. He is still adorable.

It's always an adventure with Alli. She apparently thought the garden bench needed sitting on.

The trick was getting back. The buzzing noise in the video clip below is her version of chattering teeth . . . note the bare legs!

Out to Lunch

2009-01-07T21:51:00.000-07:00

Monday I did something I rarely do . . . I went to lunch with a friend. I don't know why I'm not a "go to lunch-er." Everyone would rather go out and have someone else fix the food and wait on them, than have do it themselves. Right? Well, not everyone. Not me. If I could, I'd invite all my friends . . . in groups . . . or one at a time . . . it wouldn't matter . . . to come and have lunch at my house. And I would cook. Or sometimes I would have people bring some food but I would still cook. I like to cook. I would do it once a month . . . at least. But my friends would probably think they were imposing on me or feel obligated to return the favor so I don't do it. Who knows . . . ? Maybe sometime I will anyway.

So Monday I went to out to lunch. What got me to do it? First, Barry gave me a Chili's gift card for Christmas. Maybe he knows I don't go if I have to spend "unspent" money. But a gift card . . . well, that is already spent so . . . yut tah hey! Second, I hadn't seen my friend Emily in about 6 months and I was past due for a dose of Emily.

I met Emily at a Master Gardener class in 2001. We had just moved to Utah and I needed to get educated about gardening in the desert. Emily sat up in the front of the class and asked good questions. I decided I wanted to be friends with her, so after about 4 classes I positioned myself in her vicinity and foisted myself into her space. We found we had tons more than gardening in common.

I love Emily. Here are a couple of the many reasons why. She gives me way too much credit. But even if I'm not as good or smart or talented as she seems to think I am, she makes me want to be good. That's because she is good. That's another reason I love her. She is just good. She is also smart, capable, talented, generous and a host of other glowing adjectives. But I love her because she is good. One more reason I love her is that she is an "includer." She is always doing something and including people. I have personally been the beneficiary of her 'including.'

I picked on Emily because we just went to lunch but she is just today's poster child for all of my women friends. I love them because they are good. I think I'll have some more 'poster friends' in the future.

We had a great lunch. The food . . . just marginal. The service . . . hmmmm . . . maybe we won't go there. I think the waitress needed a hug or something. The conversation . . . GREAT! It could only have been better if it had been at my kitchen table. Maybe after this gift card is all used up we'll just have to do lunch at . . . say . . . GARLICK'S!

2009-01-01T19:16:00.001-07:00

Words to Live By

Recently I read Collin Powell's "Rules to Live By."

I thought they were pretty good:

It ain't as bad as you think. It will look better in the morning.
Get mad, then get over it.
Avoid having your ego so close to your position that when your position falls, your ego goes with it.
It can be done!
Be careful what you choose. You may get it.
Don't let adverse facts stand in the way of a good decision.
You can't make someone else's choices. You shouldn't let someone else make yours.
Check small things.
Share credit.
Remain calm. Be kind.
Have a vision.
Don't take counsel of your fears or naysayers.
Perpetual optimism is a force multiplier.*

*"force multiplier" is a military term basically meaning something that will increase the effectiveness of a person or group. The more optimistic you are, the more powerful you are, no matter the circumstances.

This set me to thinking. Do I have rules I live by? Well, of course I do. But could I distill them down to a short list? I've been thinking about it off and on for days now and I have a list. I'm not suggesting this is comprehensive but it has been fun.

Eva's Rules

Do the maintenance. Take care of your stuff, your body and the laundry.
Pray, read scriptures and put on makeup every day as many times as needed.*(refer to #9)
Make bread and attend the temple once a week.
Don't be caught short. Keep the pantry stocked and have milk in the fridge.
Stay connected to the earth- garden without gloves.
Make friends with children.
Feed people. Feed people good food.
Never "sit on a blister" or "suck your thumb." Do something instead.
If you feel like crying, do it, then blow your nose and move on.*
When you see someone you want to be friends with, make it happen.
If given an option pick red!
Remember to be grateful and say it.
Don't leave the house without food.
Always have a list.
Get over yourself.
Choose happy.

So there you have it. Do you have a list? Everyone has one but writing it down is the trick.

Happy New Year!!

Garlick Soup

2008-12-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

I have been shamefully procrastinating my first blog post . . . looking for some profound beginning. But it is not some great train of thought that has finally spurred me to action but several requests for soup recipes.

I thought, "Aha! A readymade blog audience! I'll just post the recipes and then if someone really wants them they can come and get them."

So for all you soup lovers that came to our party last night here are the two recipes we served. For all of you who were not at our party these are yummy! Trust me. (That is what my teenagers always used to say. . . just trust me.)

You can just copy these right off the blog.

Black Bean and Sweet Potato Soup

SERVES 6 -8

· 2 teaspoons oil

· 1 onion, chopped

· 2 garlic cloves, minced

· 2 teaspoons ground coriander

· 2 teaspoons ground cumin

· 2 cans black beans, rinsed & drained

· 1 can diced tomatoes

· 1 teaspoon salt

· 1/4 teaspoon pepper

· 6 cups chicken broth

· 2 sweet potatoes, peeled & chopped

· 1 cup frozen corn

· ½ c. chopped Cilantro

· Juice of ½ lime

· 2 cups diced cook chicken (optional)

· Sour cream (optional)
Heat oil in a skillet and saute onion and garlic in oil until soft. Add all ingredients but lime juice to crockpot and cook on LOW for 8 hours or until sweet potatoes are tender. Stir in lime juice and chicken. Serve hot with sour cream if desired.

Roasted Vegetable Curry Soup

Serves 6

Heat oven to 450 degrees

1 1/2 lbs. peeled squash - Acorn or Winter

(I used hubbard from my garden)

1 1/2 lbs. red potatoes, scrubbed & quartered

1 large onion peeled & quartered

3/4 lbs. carrots, peeled & chunked

4-6 garlic cloves

6 Tbsp. Olive oil

2 t. salt

pepper

4 cans chicken broth

1/2-2/3 c. evaporated milk

2-3 t. curry powder

Juice from 1 lemon

2 c. cook chicken (optional)

Dollop of sour cream (optional)

Toss cut up vegetables with olive oil . Spread on a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake 25 min. Stir. Bake 20 minutes more or until soft and browned. Blend vegetables in broth in batches as the blender will handle it. Place in pot. Add milk, curry & lemon juice. (Cooked chicken if desired.) Heat through. Thin with more broth or more milk if needed. Serve w/ a dollop of sour cream.

Enjoy!!!!