Mom’s funeral was Monday. The service was perfect, the flowers were beautiful, there was no family drama. It was more than I could have hoped for. She would have loved it.
I took down the Christmas decorations in her room today. She would have never left them up this long. It would have been decorated for Valentines by now. I did not decorate it for Valentines Day. However, I did change out the Christmas for her bright orange and teal quilt. The cats favorite chair changed from a Christmas throw and pillow to a more summery combination.
It’s funny. When we take down Christmas in the house, it always seems so much colder and more sterile. Moms room doesn’t. It still feels comfy cozy.
I do feel a small sense of closure. Like healing can start now. Waiting over a month to hold the funeral was a heavy stress on all of us. Now it feels like the page has turned to a new chapter. Your favorite character just died but you keep reading.
Man, life does not take a break when your world stops. It doesn’t stop. It feels like it should stop. My mom died, the funeral is Monday, everyone be respectful. But no. Your sisters dog still tears and ACL and requires surgery. Your shower still gets a leak that requires a plumber. Work is still a shit show. The escape plan for May is getting pushed back to October. Your husband is still having the worst week of his career. And you’re packing a suitcase full of black clothes.
A suitcase full of black. I’m still oddly numb and practical about everything. I had to make sure my husband had appropriate clothes which required clothes shopping. I had to get new black pants for us both. So this afternoon we’re driving down to stay with the family tonight.
My over stressed husband, who’s been in quarantine for nearly a year, is being forced to stay with other bubbles. However, it’s unavoidable. He knows this. I do worry about all of these bubbles crashing for the funeral. Ugh. When are we getting a damn vaccine rolled out for all of us? I can only pray there’s no virus spreading going on with the funeral. We won’t be having visitation at the funeral but we’re having a big lunch after. Not remotely my decision. But how can I say no? It’s moms funeral. The family wants to do lunch after which I thought was nice. But now a lot of people are coming to lunch. I’m a bit worried. I’ve already bowed out my husband but I feel obligated to go. Mom just died of Covid and we’re having a party. Blarg.
Well, wish us luck. Emotional and health-wise. Here we go.
So mom’s funeral is Monday. This is my off Friday, so when I filled out my time card, I went ahead and entered bereavement leave for the funeral next week. I almost burst into tears.
I love time off. I hate working and in particular I hate my current job (don’t worry, I have something in the pipeline for May). So missing work is awesome. And free PTO? Sign me up! But bereavement leave… for my momma? I don’t want this. Not like this. I’ve joked about using bereavement leave in the past for my father because I’m a terrible human being — but my momma?
I guess it’s strange things that can trigger grief. K gave me a card I knew was from old coworkers with condolences and I didn’t even open it until I got home. Couldn’t afford to cry on my lunch break.
K said shes coming to the funeral. K, you so don’t need to drive two hours to come. I wont be able to see you and even if I did, I couldn’t give you the big hug you deserve and cry on you cause she was my momma. I’m crying as I type this. I’m so glad you at least knew her a little bit. I was so blessed to have such wonderful relationship with mom and I’m so blessed to have you as a best friend.
So the air conditioning and heating system at work seems a bit wonky. I don’t think it was designed for all these closed labs. So every time you open a lab door you have to overcome the pressure differential between the lab and the hallway and there’s a gust of air. In one of the bigger labs, this pressure differential is pretty significant. We all joke about it. Even strangers make small talk jokes about it when we’re opening the door. I have to lean into it with my full body to have enough force and then the gust of wind is enough to feel like you’re exiting a cabin in the snowy Alps on a gusty day.
So basically you get a good hard breeze once you overpower the door. Enough to blow your hair and clothes like a Pantene commercial. It reminds me of when magic spells are cast or broken on TV and the gust of energy that bursts forth knocks everyone over. Like I should be entering Narnia through this damn door.
But there’s no Narnia. Just a shitty hallway. Major let down. Maybe one day it’ll be Narnia?
I went to Physical Therapy today for my vestibular system. (Short Summary –> car wreck -> concussion -> post concussion syndrome -> get very sick when I drive too long especially at night). So most of the tests I passed pretty easily. My central eye focus is at 10cm when it should be at 3, so we can work on that. But man, she tested my balance and fuck that.
Most of the balance tests I passed. Except that I’m terrible at balancing on one leg. I’m not a yoga person, okay? But then she had me stand on this squishy wedge and close my eyes and stand there for 30 seconds. Yeah, no. I have terrible balance. This thing is squishing all over the place, I can’t do this. Like every time I tried I had to grab the bars. This is not a skill I need as an engineer, can we just ignore this? I don’t give a shit about my balance.
So then the part we do give a shit about. Lets get your heart rate up to trigger your symptoms of nausea and vertigo to see where we’re at. Let me rephrase that for those in the back: Get on the exercise bike and we’ll just keep increasing the intensity until you feel like you’re gonna puke. Got that? Go.
Yall, I didn’t know I was gonna get all sweaty and out of breath first thing this morning before work. Awesome. We went until I was like “yeah I’m good.” But then problem was we only got to a twinge of a headache. No nausea. Which I kinda didn’t think would happen considering I bike to the grocery store without getting nausea. But yeah, no dice. So that means heart rate isn’t a good variable to hang our hat on “about to barf.” Which means my practices just have to go till I feel ill. Like last time. I had been promised we wouldn’t have to get to the ill feeling part. But without a good gauge of when im about to feel ill, well, you gotta go all the way.
I’m gonna be honest, I’m not 100% sold on committing to doing this again. I’m seeing her again next week, but I just don’t feel like they can really help me with driving at night. If we can’t duplicate my symptoms in the office, then how can we help them?
Why can’t I just wear anti-nausea patches all the time?
I has been a week. Let me tell ya. Monday I was so anxious and overwhelmed that I skipped work. I had watched 90 Day Fiance which was me and moms show. We both call each other to remind each other it is coming on and then talk about how crazy everyone is. And Natalie be CRAZY. Mom will never see how crazy she is and we cant talk about it. Who’s watching our show with me now? Just me and the cat, I guess. And he doesn’t care how crazy Natalie is, which she really is.
I’ve been hyper focused on the cat as a bit of a break from the far heavier death of mom. So of course I’m upset that even with all the changes, he’s still only got a life expectancy of 1 – 2 years. I assume that includes a lot of decline towards the end as well. So it’s difficult. I just gave him his fluids via stabby needle an hour or so ago. He’s resting in his bed next to me. With a big lump of fluid on his side. Poor guy.
Also, I’m anxious about starting vestibular physical therapy. With not having to drive much thanks to Covid, I had kinda of convinced myself I was all better. This is fine. Ya know? And acknowledging that I still get really sick driving is a hard pill to swallow. I certainly don’t want to go back to last January when I had to do my physical therapy exercises twice a day and got nausea and vertigo every time. It was miserable. So I don’t wanna. That’s basically what it boils down to. I don’t wanna.
Work’s been… bad, I guess? Honestly, I haven’t been working. I’ve been just getting though my days. I’m sorry, I’m just trying to not break down, yall. Like I said, Monday I didn’t even make it in to work. So my not-very-important task has been halted half done. But this is the last week of the sprint so my favorite coworker was assigned to help me with it. Of course DeBitch made a snarky asshole remark. DeBitch was one of the main reasons I didn’t go in Monday. I just didn’t want to deal with that shit. And of course I feel terrible.
It’s a team carry. I’m the teammate down and my team is carrying me over the finish line. It’s embarrassing and …well… embarrassing. I’m ashamed of myself. But then I also need the carry. So I’m grateful but also want to crawl up in a hole and die. Mostly the latter.
So I’ve got a lot going on that’s stressing me out. A lot. And then the check engine light in my car comes on yesterday on the way to work. God dammit, are you serious? So I have a scanner to read the codes — it’s some faulty circuit in the temperature sensor. But still, kick me when I’m down, will ya?
I just want to crawl up in a hole and die. Or to retire and crawl up on the couch and never leave the house again. That’s fine too.
As for the “Curiosities” part of this blog, I thought I might feature things I think are nifty. Most of them will be from Amazon. Not because I get money for links (I don’t have that set up), but because I’m lazy as fuck and most things I have come from there. Sorry, not sorry. Kinda sorry. I mean, it is really fucking convenient but they treat their workers like trash.
I review everything I buy. I’m trying to get into their “Vine Voice” program where they give you free shit in exchange for honest reviews. So far I’ve worked my way up from some 4 or 5 millionth reviewer to in the 2,000s. And I’m a top contributer in Camping and Gardening. Not that I’d camp to save my life, ha. Well wait, I would to save my life. In fact I’m a bit of a prepper so that’s how that happened. We have a fully stocked storm shelter and bugout bags. Check me out; like my reviews. Every helpful vote gets me closer to free shit. (Clicky clicky)
I always cook meat with a thermometer. I’m a great cook, and I could totally not use one and be fine. But why be fine when you can be certain? If I’m serving shit to other people, I’m not giving them food poisoning. Especially Mr C as he has a sensitive tummy sometimes. So chicken, burgers, whatever it is, I’m checking the temperature. I’ve had two digital thermometers that served me well in the past from a wedding gift and then Publix. But they were both lost to dropping them in oil. Sorry, faithful thermometers. And this time, I couldn’t find a damn digital thermometer anywhere in person. Not Publix, not Target, mom looked at Walmart and said not there either. So in steps Amazon. Cause I don’t go to the store.
Why am I showing you this thermometer? Well because it is fucking fantastic, that’s why. It does all the great things a meat thermometer should:
It’s digital
Has a bright back light
Big-ass readable numbers
Magnetic so you can hang it on the fridge or a hook if your more of a hook person.
Reads the temperature super fast (way faster than my old ones)
It’s cheap
Folds up for storage and non-stabbyness
Oh did you not catch the meaning of that last one? I’ll tell you what that means. It means it’s a badass, motherfucking, SWITCHBLADE thermometer. Hell yeah!
Don’t act like anything switchblade is not badass. When you got your first car key that was a switchblade, you loved that shit. Well now your thermometer can be too. Press the button and whip this baby out to check the burgers. “WHAH-CHA” Perfect FDA-approved 160 degrees. Dinner is served.
So for $14 bucks, I highly recommend this thing. As Martha Stewart used to say: “It’s a good thing.”
Mr C’s birthday is tomorrow which means: CHOCOLATE MOUSSE! Wait no. Usually it means chocolate mousse. This year he wants Aunt Ks lemon tart. The tartiest tart of them all. The one that makes your face pucker just looking at it. I have no idea how he likes it so much. But OK. We tart.
I cheated this year and used a premade pie crust instead of making my own. Fail. The premade pie crust is so thin and doesn’t give the cookie kinda thick texture this baby needs. You gotta have something substantial with that tart. Jesus, how do yall eat this?
When I finished the custard last night it was delicious. So sweet and lemony. But after setting up in the fridge, holy moly. I served him a slice and had a bite. All of me puckered and an eye twitched. I can’t do it. Give me ghost pepper spices but good lord give me more sugar with my lemons. It sounds like there’s a ton of sugar in this recipe, but remember this is all pure lemon juice and zest. No water, no cream, just lemon. I got two thumbs up on the custard but two thumbs down on the crust. Contemplating making a new crust and scooping the custard into that. (Tart picture from previous cooking where I made the crust. It looks better too).
Here’s the recipe for those of you following along at home. This filled two regular pie crusts.
Lemon tart pastry shell
2 c flour
12 T butter, chilled 6 T sugar
1 large egg beaten
pinch of salt (if using salted butter skip this)
In a medium sized bowl, combine the flour, sugar and salt. Using a pastry blender or two knives, cut in butter until the mixture resembles fine meal. Add the egg and mix until just combined. Gather into a ball. Flatten slightly. Wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least two hours. Roll pastry on a lightly floured surface to a thickness of 1/8″. Fit into a 10″ tart pan. Trim edges. Preheat oven to 375. Line crust with foil shiny side down that has been sprayed with Pam. Fill pie crust with pie weights or dried beans. Bake about 20 minutes. Remove the weights and foil and continue baking until crust is lightly browned about 10-12 minutes. If dough is too dry and does not form a ball well, add a little milk – one teaspoon at a time. The crust can be made the night before to make things easier on the big day.
Lemon Tart
2 c fresh lemon juice, about 12-14 lemons
1-1/2 c sugar
6 oz (1-1/2 sticks) butter at room temp
6 large eggs
6 large egg yolks
1/4 c lemon zest
To make the custard, combine the lemon juice and sugar in a heavy, medium-sized stainless steel saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat; then simmer. Remove from heat. In a medium bowl, combine eggs, egg yolks and lemon zest. Whisk small amount of the hot syrup into the egg mixture. Return saucepan to medium heat. Constantly whisk the custard while cooking. Occasionally stir with a rubber spatula to ensure the custard is not sticking. Cook until thickened to coat the back of a spoon heavily. (If you run your finger across the spoon and the top layer stays put and does not run across the open space it is done.) Remove from heat and whisk in the butter tablespoon by tablespoon until silky smooth. Pour through a fine sieve into crust, fill to top. Refrigerate until firm, about 4 hours.
Fuck me, I’m gonna go make a real crust and dump the custard into that. I can’t live with this kinda failure.
UPDATE: This is what short cuts get you. I fixed it though. New crust.
1) I’m trying to get stuff for the funeral organized. We need to pick a photo for the main mom photo. But my sisters are still too distraught to look at photos. Sister I was talking to said she didn’t even leave her room yesterday. She just ate some cottage cheese she had in the fridge down there. Okay, thats not healthy.
Also, I can’t shut down. I have a job and a mortgage and a husband and a cat I had to take the the vet today. I know she’s fucked up and grieving but I kinda want to smack her. Get off your damn ass.
2) Took the cat the vet today. The good news is, all of his levels have improved! I think the vet was very impressed that I followed directions. She basically treated me like I was a good dog. I’m cool with that. Go me!
Problem is he’s still in kidney failure. I got the copies of his labs so I could look stuff up. He’s right at the bottom levels (good end) of stage 3 failure. Ugh. So I don’t think he’s going to get off the fluids and stuff. He has an average life expectancy of 2 years at this point. Let’s make ’em good.
After the bath, he was licking himself so much he had a hair ball… in the new heated cat bed. He was obsessed with it and now he wont go near it. Fuck. It’s like Mr C and grape juice. He’s traumatized now.
3) Someone was using “my” bathroom stall at work and it was surprisingly weird. There is like one bathroom per floor where I work with 6 stalls. I always use the same stall. Row 2, Stall A. It’s a good one. Row 1 Stall B runs forever. 1 A flushes too much (sensor calibration issues). I can’t use a handicapped stall so I stick with my safe 2 A. But the other day someone was in there! I had to use one of the handicapped stalls.
