Carpe Diem...

There are times in life where everything else takes a back seat.  At least it does for me.  My family comes first.  Period.  Full stop.  Sometimes they need something and you just know you are the one who can help, so that's what you do.  I have had to learn over the years to ask for help when 'I' need it, although I must admit that I'm still not so great about doing so immediately.  I am a procrastinator by nature and I always seem to put my needs last.  I don't necessarily do this consciously.  I do this because my family is more important to me than anything, but it is the cold hard truth that I have to try harder to take care of myself because if I don't... Well let's do the math... 1 (person needs help) - 1 (person who didn't take care of themselves) = (can help) 0 (a big fat zero).

So although blogging is something I do for me, life sometimes conspires against me.  There have been a lot of major changes going on in the Lemon Stand household and I'm having trouble finding my 'groove'.  But fear not.  I have been writing little notes of treasure for future posts.  Most of which, I will enjoy writing because my family and life in general always seems to come up with the most bizarre conversations and events and life is too short not to laugh.  So I may do a couple of posts in one day and then pause for a few days to take time for the truly important things in my life.  Then it's back to my 'me' time. 

If you NEVER take anything ELSE away with you when you read my posts, take away the truth that life is too short to waste the small wonders around you.  They are always there, but most of the time we pass them by unnoticed because you've got to do this or that or you are too tired or you will take the time tomorrow.  Most miracles only take seconds or short minutes to see/hear and not only inspire you but to ease the load of responsibilities most people carry these days.  Allow them, give them permission, to color your world. 

I once wrote a post that told how I had come to learn this lesson and I sometimes have to go back and remind myself... Truthfully? I have to go back A LOT because let's face it, life can sometimes suck dirty, sweaty, gym socks.  So as a reminder, the following is just a short snippet from 'Celebration Of The Little Things':

If you want to know how this lesson solidified in my mind…the moment that I truly learned this lesson… it was the first time my husband was in the mid-east. He would send the kids and I pictures of grass. Yes, you read that right. There was this one spot where everyone threw out their wash water and eventually a straggly excuse for grass started growing. My husband had a picture of himself taken sitting in this 3 ft by 3ft patch of grass. He was cross legged and his eyes were closed. His hands were in the position of someone meditating and saying 'ooooohhhhmmm, ooooohhhhmmmm.' (Man that man cracks me up!)

He also would pick these small flowers that he would find among the rocks. Proof that life will survive in the most unlikeliest and most inhospitable places on earth. They do not stop growing because of the war being waged. Their ability to exist with such beauty is a testament to life.

QOTD: "Carpe Diem" [Seize The Day (opportunity)], Horace (65-8 BC) Roman Poet

The Funeral Of The Purple Cast...

So I had a lovely visit with the orthopedic hand surgeon today.  In fact, we had such a lovely and long visit that we are now BFFs!  No.  Really!  In fact, I think we'll name our next child after her.

Apparently the MRI from H E double hockey sticks (deserving of it's own post) showed no broken bones. That was such great news that I wept.  Really.

So, after they cut my stylish purple cast off (By the way, note to self... bring lye soap and a really good scrub brush with me the next time.   Either that or a nose plug.  Or at the very least a biological weapons expert because I really thought the stench of my unwashed arm/hand should have been setting off Homeland Defense alarms everywhere!  If they could have bottled that aromatic fragrance for military use we definitely could fend off hoards of angry terrorists with just a tiny, microscopic whiff) so as I was saying, before I so rudely interrupted myself, I am now the proud owner of far less chic arm/hand attire.  It does have Velcro so it can't be all that bad...  and they do say that black goes with everything, so how can I go wrong?

I also got a nifty new kind of ice bag that can actually be wrapped around my wrist, but since it is well past Labor Day, I don't think I could wear it as a fashion accessory (since it is white).  Still, no one but the husband, five daughters and four cats would see my fashion faux pas.  Particularly because I have no plans to leave this house until my excruciating, migraine wracked head and agonizing swollen wrist/hand do not look like they belong on Quasimodo instead of on my dainty, feminine form.

See?  Whining can be raised to an art form.  OK.  I'm done sniveling.  I can remove my ad to sell the kids on eBay and they can be 'fairly' sure I won't rip their head's off.  (As long as they can behave like the well-mannered offspring that I often have delusional  hallucinations about...  or I don't see or hear from them for the next twelve hours...  otherwise, all bets are off...)

Can you tell the pain medication is kicking in?  Thank you for the diversion this post provided.  I was sufficiently distracted so that I really didn't seriously entertain the thought of chewing my arm off sans anesthetic or trying to rip out my brain through my nostrils.  I'm sure I'll appreciate being fully intact on the morrow.

We now return you to your regular Friday night programming...

Notes for the unfortunate readers of this misery:

First off, this appointment was a week ago (as in LAST Friday) and I am feeling much better.  The swelling has gone down and the pain only comes from the nerves in my wrist that will take a little longer to heal.  I only mention this because posts are being typed one handed... or rather one finger at a time so I am trying to pace myself...  hence the length of time it took me to get this posted.

For those people not in the 'X' generation and who need translation of the term BFFs (welcome to my life, by the way...  I had to ask one of my teenagers) - Best Friends Forever

Anyone who recognizes the movie line I blatantly stole... no doubt you'll know I may have watched 'The Mummy' a few too many times.

As for life in general at the moment... It's just Ducky!  Thanks for asking.   (somehow I have misplaced that ad for eBay and my index finger is developing a callus so the kids are momentarily safe...)

Bou - you have been duly warned about what to expect when your son gets his purple cast off...

And lastly, to Air Force Wife...  I guess I am susceptible to a double dog dare after all... 

How To Post To Your Blog While Wearing A Purple Cast In Three Easy Lessons...

Lesson Number One

Make sure your post title is the longest one you have ever written.  It'll look impressive to anyone who can read knowing you accomplished this feat with only one index finger.  (You will also get extra points if a teacher reads it and pronounces that you have spelled all the words correctly... and even more points if the entire post is grammatically correct including punctuation.  Particularly if it is Mrs. Who, whom we all know is the absolutely best but severely underpaid and under-appreciated teacher in her state... AND she survives even though she works for Professor Umbridge!  NOTE: I WAS going to link to one of Mrs. Who's Professor Umbridge posts but her current post is.... well, I won't ruin the surprise...)

Lesson Number Two

Wait to post anything to the internet until you only have to take Advil for the pain.  (Unless you actually want anyone to know exactly what you did to earn that purple cast... Note the date since my last post...)

Lesson Number Three

Make sure your post contains a short humorous anecdote from before PC (purple cast)

How about this for short and anecdotal... I've asked my husband several times to take the air conditioner out of the window.  

(You'd think he would have vividly remembered our previous experience with air conditioners.  I recently had to describe this past experience during a conversation and even though it's been years, I still become mortified.  Mortified because I can't coherently get the whole story out before becoming unintelligible from laughter, both from the experience and the expressions on the listeners faces.  I can't help myself, it just cracks me up.  I'm sorry, but I always seem to picture myself standing with the squirrels and wild turkeys and wishing I had had a camera.  A picture of the expression that must have been on my husband's face when he received the phone call would also have been an extra special 'Kodak moment'.)

The Color Purple...

Today I arrived at the doctor's office wearing a purple sweater and carrying a purple purse... not that I'd planned it that way, but just because they happened to be within reach and were easy to carry.  I left the doctor's office with a purple cast.  And my kids say that I am hardly ever fashionably color coordinated.... 

And just so you know for future reference... you KNOW your pain meds are working when you read the following questions and think they are hilarious OR you actually consider the possibilities...

 What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating
 an endangered plant?  

 If a cow laughed, would milk come out her nose?  

 If an orange is orange, why isn't a lime called a green or a 
 lemon called a yellow?

 Would a fly without wings be called a walk? 

 If a turtle doesn't have a shell, is he homeless or naked?

Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?

Can vegetarians eat animal crackers? 

QOTD: THE PURPLE COW 

    _Reflections on a Mythic Beast,
    Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least._

    I never Saw a Purple Cow;
      I never Hope to See One;
    But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
      I'd rather See than Be One.

        _Cinq Ans Apres._

    (_Confession: and a Portrait, Too,
    Upon a Background that I Rue!_)

    Ah, yes! I wrote the "Purple Cow"--
      I'm Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
    But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
      I'll Kill you if you Quote it!

~ Frank Gelett Burgess (1866–1951) artist, art critic, poet, author, and humorist 

Conversational Ponderings...

I have a new fashion accessory... a half cast splint on my left hand/wrist.  Luckily it's not my writing hand but I AM seriously considering learning to type with my toes.  It would probably be a lot faster than my one handed typing.  Still, how can it be a bad week?  All five kids go back to school tomorrow. :o)  

(I know you are dying to know how it happened but do you seriously think I'm going to COMPLETELY describe my idiocy even further?  Nope.  Suffice to say my mother did NOT name me Grace...)

So instead, my mind is wandering painlessly, thinking about our family communication skills.  What does that have to do with a trip to the ER?  Why, absolutely nothing.  (See comment above about painlessness...)

I know it is sad but true that sometimes our family conversations are not quite in the realm of what is average...  Well, OK...  As average as the average person at large is.  Never mind.  I guess I can’t very well dress up our conversations in anything that would resemble polite conversation in a situation where one might be overheard.  Anyone who has ever read any of our family conversations (or been around, involved or related to us) have already been initiated and know what to expect.  

I’m sure there are many families who communicate just fine with dignity, politeness and a decibel level that does not legally have to have a warning posted on their front door.  They may even provide parental direction and chastisement in a reasonable manner expected of most Homo Sapiens whilst their offspring argue or whine.  Occasionally I wonder what that would be like...  

I also ponder the thought that in my golden years there will be times when, instead of inhaling or snorting out my nose some liquid substance as occasionally happens in our family’s presence during said communication, I will instead be spitting out my dentures… or perhaps I will merely choke on them.  I dread to think what my family would put on my epitaph… Here lies Lemon Stand who choked on a joke.  Rest In Peace… (And Quiet)

Our family rarely communicates merely in any one type of way.  Our family likes to explore all the options of communication... We all like to discuss, quip, debate, laugh, demand, mock, request, argue, snicker, pick an argument, banter, hassle, whine, make fun of, cross swords, disagree, gang up on, sass, dispute, quarrel, joke, get in one's face, hammer, hash out, have at each other, knock around, lock horns, sartorial witticism, quibble, rehash, row, jump on, squabble and occasionally speak in a polite, respectful manner.

I believe I have come to the end of my ponderings for the day since that happy, floating feeling is almost gone.  Time to go whimpering to the medicine bottle.  Who knows where the next wanderings might lead...