The Move

Last year, our rent went up almost 10% and added some fees, too. We knew it would happen again (we heard rumors of $100-$150 increases in 1/1 units!), so we started shopping around. It had to be a Perfect Storm in a lot of ways. It’s not worth moving unless we can stay close to the same total expenses, get more space, get nicer fixtures and stuff, etc. Well, when we started looking around, there were a lot of ways we could make this happen. So, on 25-Feb, we’ll have a new place to live. We have until 22-Mar to get out of Riata, but we’re hiring movers so we can leave early in the hope that they can flip our unit quickly like they did for our neighbor. We have been quite happy at Riata. Unless they screw us over on move-out, I’ll give them a 5-star rating on Yelp. But, when we got this “shoebox” shaped apartment, it was an amazing deal we just couldn’t pass up while we still had a mortgage. We were so happy here that when the lease came around, twice, we just stayed. Now, we’re ready to face moving again to go for bigger/better.

We looked at ~20 places and had a very strong Top 5 list. I fell “in like” with two leasing specialists, one where an acquaintance of ours lives. We found: a lovely town home, an über quiet place up the road, hardwood floors, door-to-door valet trash service, amazing views, and a couple of places with a lot of rugrats. All of the options gave us more space (so I can use Daddy’s desk again!), better amenities for our lifestyle, garage options (so we can stop paying for a storage unit primarily for Daddy’s desk and “junk”), better fixtures, and a better layout.

Just like we did when house hunting, we made a matrix of all the “stuff”. And just like most brides do with a wedding gown, we ended up at the first place we wanted to see: Villas at Stone Oak Ranch. We have good/affordable access to a game room and a 30-seat movie theater. There is a “gift wrap” area full of paper and tape and scissors. All the standards are there too: gym, pool, business center, etc. We have a detached garage, a square balcony, “Romeo & Juliet” doors off the dining room (which I’ve re-named Rapunzel doors), garden tubs, a kitchen that is open on two ends, an excellent pantry, and data ports in all the rooms. The only things we didn’t get: gas cooking (REALLY hard to find) and a fireplace (again? dammit!). But the deal was just too good to pass up compared to the other places in consideration.

Aside: During the process we met an amazing woman named Wendie. She gave us the low-down on why so many communities are doing away with their hot tubs. Turns out, some really scary (as in: there is no known cure) stuff can survive even in 104?-temperature chemical-treated water. The report is new and we could not find it online, but it’s scary. Do not, I repeat: DO NOT get in a public hot tub. Feet only. No “sensitive” areas allowed. eeeeeewwww!

Don’t worry friends and family: we’re hiring movers. We are also cleaning out the storage unit and holding a big moving sale in their parking lot. What doesn’t get sold is getting donated. Goodwill is going to LOVE us! LMK if you are close and care about the few big-ticket items we’re selling.

Oh! And we were able to surprise a friend with the referral fee paid to REALTORs. She’s a single mom and a cancer survivor, so she was elated with the news.

(The) Grandaddy

Grandaddy is quite frustrated and bored. His hip is so messed up from the botched “Paris-effin’-Texas” surgery that he can’t sit up. He’s been laying down since Hallowe’en. The Longview/Tyler doctors have deemed all surgical options too risky. Health care is a joke from the beginning; but in a small town that is 20 years behind the times, 1 hour from an interstate highway, and 2 hours from anything you’ve ever heard of, it’s nothing short of tragic. Mama Bee is still fighting the residuals from the beotch who called APS on her (the witch has since apologized), but no one wants to take Grandaddy on as a client. They claim he’ll have a stroke if he stays in bed too much longer, but they won’t come help her get him the physical therapy he needs to get out of the hospital bed. It’s heartbreaking….worse so to be physically and financially powerless to help. If I could wave a magic wand, I’d care-flight him to one of those fancy-schmancy places in Dallas where he’d get all the help he needs. Again, I need to win the lottery for that. I don’t know what those places cost, but even the crappy Paris nursing homes are $6K per month…and for terrible care compared with what my Grandmother can do (even at her small stature).

The Fraud

In the midst of The Move, we got a call that we’d have to pay rent with “certified funds” like a cashier’s check or money order. We’ve been on auto-draft, so this would be a real pain in the butt. Today, I called the “ladder” of people to find out the cause. Some jackass spoofed my Texas driver’s license number when writing a bad check at Walmart in a town I’ve never been to in Oklahoma. Telecheck reported it to credit on my DL number without checking any facts like the name. So, now, I’m in the middle of yet another fraud mess. I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened. So, to all the people who gave me shit (my sorority included) for wanting to protect my SSN, DL, DOB, mailing address, and other “credit” information, Fuck You! THIS is why. Less than $300 of stupid means we have to get a money order for rent every month? Are you kidding? Since Emil was just frauded over Xmas, this is just another reason to try to get off the financial grid. I haven’t even owned checks in years and I’m still dealing with this kind of bullshit.

Dear Walmart: stop taking checks. They are not money. They are only theft.

“Dear” Telecheck, this a’int our first rodeo for something completely out of my control. I already don’t shop at any store that posts they use you. You have needed better processes since ~1993 when I bought <$10 worth of socks from one of your client stores. Your sign in the window means I don’t shop there. fuckers. Oh, and if you think I’m alone in my opinion, search “telecheck” on Twitter. You need to learn/use social media, too, BTW.

The Fun

Austin is about to ride the big wave of fun that is Spring. Right after we move in, we’ll have RISE (free workshops for entrepreneurs) and the four South by Southwest conferences. I’ve been invited to return tot he photo crew for SXSW. And, I’ve been selected to wrangle for another all-time favorite photographer at Texas School in May. It’s a fun ride, but it’s a sprint, so jump on board fast if you want to hang with us!

Oh, and for those of you close by, look for a party in April or May. The party room at the new place is stellar (pool, poker, shuffleboard, music, swimming, etc.)

We got to see both sides of the family [1]  and made time for oursleve, too. And, this is the first time in a long time that we didn’t get each other a same gift.

Armed with new toys and gadgets (this blog post is coming to you from our couch via the new bluetooth QWERTY keyboard for my iPhone), we have a few days of R&R planned. We’ll see you all in 2012.

Happy New Year!

.

[1] At Thanksgiving, we learned that one oft he Amanda’s is pregnant. Today, we learned the other one is too. The first cousins will be born in June and July. If my count is correct, these will be our 20th and 21st great neice/newphews. That’s a lot of babies in just 10 years.

Last year, I was to ill to participate in any part of Hallowe’en. I had one of those colds that lasted for days….and all the wrong days, at that! Since Hallowe’en is far and above my favorite holiday, I was not a happy camper. My costume was recycled from a fundraiser a few years ago, so I wasn’t that exited about it, anyway. (Curses to the crack pot who gave the Hallowe’en party a theme. WTF? I guess she doesn’t realize that themes only work for the person who picks them!)

This year, we made it to the No Kidding! party  and had a really good time. But ~30 hours later, while I suffered insomnia, Emil awoke unable to breathe. So, while tonight could have had some small have-to-work-tomorrow adventure to celebrate this fun holiday, we are at home. He’s “in there” and I’m “in here” because we don’t want him to share.

dammit.

Why can’t this happen at Christmas since it’s my least favorite holiday?

Excuse me, I have to go wash my hands with bleach.

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On Wednesday March 30th, Grandaddy fell in his driveway. He cracked some ribs. He was hospitalized for 2.5 weeks and then transferred to a rehab center, which is just a different floor of the same building with a different company.

On April 4th or 5th, I called Mom to talk about some paperwork and to see if she had heard the date for the golf tournament. That’s when she told me that Grandaddy was in the hospital.

Emil’s last day with Travis County was the 6th, and I had a portrait session on the 8th, and we had a mini-vacay planned for the 12-13-14th, so we finished out the week and planned a trip to Paris for Saturday-Monday.

Our Time There

We spent all day Sunday with Grandaddy and Mama Bee. He’s off the pain meds, but he’s still groggy most of the time (as they are slowly leaving his system) and startles easily. Because he was officially “discharged” from the hospital and then checked into the rehab center, they lost his diabetic menu and brought him all kinds of sugar-raising foods.

When an LVN came in, tested his sugar, and found it high (184), she was going to give him an entire syringe of insulin. No wonder it’s high, he isn’t supposed to eat the food he’s been served for several days in a row! While he is diabetic, my grandmother has controlled every morsel of food that goes into his mouth and has kept his blood sugar down without the need for any medication. Given his age and meds he needs for other, more serious conditions like his skin cancer, this has been a huge help. It doesn’t hurt that she is a fabulous cook! So, when the nurse-wannabee tried to give him a shot, my grandmother refused it. Good for her!

Grandaddy’s situation shows a glimmer of how bad our health care system is: no telling what that much insulin would have done to him given he’s never had any! They’d dose him and leave him lying there alone and unattended….thank goodness my grandmother and my mom can “babysit” the staff/services and see to his immediate needs. I was pissed at the LVN for trying to act like a doctor. He’s never had that drug and doesn’t have prescription for it. Just who did she think she was playing doctor? I know it’s SOP when the blood sugar registers that high, but they still have to look at his record to see if he’s an insulin-dependent diabetic.

When his lunch came, it was all “white” stuff he can’t have. We asked why they stopped his diabetic meal and she showed us the slip where he was slated for a standard tray. (Mama Bee had even been to the store that morning to get him some fruit, juices without so much sugar, and sugar-free jello, so she could supplement his meals with stuff he can eat.) (Oh, I forgot, when he was hurting, he took his dentures out and threw them down breaking the one plate in two. They are off being repaired. So, in addition to needing diabetic food, he needs soft/pureed foods. It’s not the least bit appetizing, of course. However, I tasted the dressing to render a “how-much-do-we-think-he-can-have-of-THAT” opinion and it was quite tasty. I think it was loaded with broth and sodium and carbs, but a couple of bites of it seems to stimulate an appetite.)

Mom and Mama Bee were pissed at the kitchen’s inability to follow his diabetic diet. I only knew of the two companies because when we asked to confirm his room number at the nurses desk, they told us he was discharged. So, it made more sense to me because we hadn’t yet been there with them. He was discharged. The diet instructions didn’t follow and my mom and grandmother couldn’t get anyone to truly hear their complaints. The staff is too small, too busy, and too ill-equipped to remember it all from the room to the desk.

One nurse remembered and got us the forms, so I dragged Mama Bee through the process of planning his meals for the next several days by circling the best options on the diabetic menu for each of his meals. Once the first day or two were done, it was a familiar system and didn’t take too long.

After lunch, they took him to physical therapy, where he peddled and walked with the help of the therapist (who is tall/strong enough to help and knows how to catch him if he starts to fall).

My Observations

My mom and grandmother are tired. It’s hard to be the support for someone so close and babysit the processes, too. Everyone is worried about everyone else…only adding to the stress.

While Grandaddy sleeps a lot, sleep talks, and sometimes rambles incoherently (because we can’t understand him without his dentures), he’s aware and lucid when he is fully awake. He’s tired of being there and wants to go home. None of us blame him, of course. And, he jokes with us and the nursing staff. When Emil & I were saying goodbye, he shook Emil’s hand and said, “I think you’re big enough to get me outta here!”

Mama Bee is particularly sad because years ago, she promised Grandaddy that they’d never live in a nursing home. She’s having to go back on her word and it’s killing her.

I’m sad that I can’t be much help from 5 hours away, but I’m once-again grateful that I can adjust my schedule so that I can go up there for a few days at a time.

Grandaddy will stay at the rehab center until the 25th. I don’t know if that’s a policy of that space since they have a relationship with the hospital or a medicaid/insurance limit.

Mama Bee might move into a little apartment in Bonham, Texas–where my mom worked for the state prison system–so Grandaddy can use his Veteran benefits and stay in the rehab center, there.

After that, who knows? Paris, Texas is all either of them have ever known, except for his tour in England & crash landing in France as a Glider Pilot during WWII and a little traveling when they were younger.

I told Mama Bee that if I could wave a magic wand, I’d put them in one of those high-end places in Dallas where they can have a little apartment with full nursing care and everything they need just downstairs. She shook her head both at the idea of it not being “home” and also at the idea of the cost. I reminded her, “I said it’s what I’d do if I could wave a wand…” Now, where are those guaranteed-to-win Lotto numbers?

So, she and my mom are researching places and options. I know they will make the best decision with the options they have. I plan to go back up there to either help Mama Bee shop around or to stay with Grandaddy and “babysit” the nursing staff while Mom takes her.

Outtakes

Now, for a funny story during our time there: Emil needed a break from just sitting and walked around the hospital a bit. In one corridor, he was passing a man in a wheel chair who was squinting and staring at him. As they got closer to one another, Emil learned of the reason for staring. The man blurted out, “Howdy!”; he’d been making sure that the ring on Emil’s finger was an Aggie ring! Emil gave him a “Howdy!” back. sweet!

One decade ago, we said said, “I Do” while surrounded by the love of ~300 of our family/friends. It was our perfect day.

• We filled the church with bluebonnet scented candles early that day to fill the church with their gorgeous smell.
• The weather was perfect. Father John opened the windows to our church. I never saw them opened before and haven’t since! The scent of the candles lingered among the feel of gentle breezes and sounds of chirping birds.
• Our family and friends were perfect. My heart grew larger and larger at several points during the last few days of planning and the wedding weekend:
  • when I heard our wedding music the first time–performed by Tim, Alison, Melissa, John, and Emily–on piano and strings; I didn’t just tear up, I cried; it wasn’t just the songs we picked, it was the personal touch only family and talent can bring to the occasion
  • when the girls on our Alternative Spring Break trip were so anxious to do *something* that they tied our bubbles in a flash of ~10 minutes…in the van…on the way to the Gila National Forrest…in New Mexico
  • when Patty & Julie arrived from Miami to help, support, and love the whole weekend and all the hustle-bustle
  • when the Jenn/Patty/Julie took me out for what might be deemed The Most Calm Bachelorette Party Ever®; somewhere I have the Aggie CARPOOL receipt from my ride home
  • when Emil’s family and our wedding party showed up in droves on Friday to help decorate the reception hall
  • when Patty made gorgeous on-the-spot silk arrangements from the stems and garlands I purchased because she saw voids in my “affordable” decor plan for a giant reception hall
  • when Elain ran the one errand she hates because she was the only one who could leave the decorating
  • when Emil’s mom managed the process for extra last-minute linens from the church’s ladies’ organization where we rented them
  • when Jim personally delivered the party favors I forgot to pick up
  • when someone (who??) alerted me to the time for us to meander over to the church for the rehearsal
  • when I changed from the tshirt I was wearing to one that was for The Big Event (an Aggie tradition) that was set for our wedding date: 3.31.01; #awesomesauce
  • when Scott, just one week after graduation from Trooper Academy was there for our big weekend eventhough we were absent (due to Alternative Spring Break) from his
  • when Father John made ready his favorite five ferns (a Zeta Tau Alpha nod, even!) to fill the rail in back of the altar
  • when I heard Diane and Crystal speak our selected wedding readings during the rehearsal; they were poised and eloquent for both the rehearsal and ceremony
  • when AJ thanked me for including our whole family in various roles of the ceremony mass and reception; she told me she was proud to wear a corsage on our wedding day
  • when Emil’s brothers took him out for pool; they’d never gone out as a group before…and though it was the closest thing he had to a Bachelor Party and was the night before the wedding, it was low-key and “safe”
  • when I took quiet/alone time after the rehearsal to calligrapher my personal/private vows to Emil and sew the navy blue roses to the back of my dress (a Paula Opal original and one-of-a-kind)
  • when AMay gave me a pretty face with her fierce makeup skillz
  • when my mom and grandmother showed up dressed perfectly for our theme/style, eventhough I’d never gone with them to pick dresses
  • when Pam gave me her emerald engagement ring to “borrow”; a nod to my own Irish lineage, too
  • when our photographer, Tim, made me feel like a princess instead of like the photo-phobe I normally am; who knew such a introvert to make me feel so at ease?
  • when I saw Daddy for the first time in a tux; he looked so handsome and wanted so desperately to please me that day
  • when Erin genuinely grinned to each guest
  • when our wedding party walked down the aisle, arm-in-arm, with the ladies sporting those cute little sweep trains I adored
  • when Sharis drove in from San Antonio, arriving after the matrons/maid walked, but just before I did…such a sweet moment
  • when Daddy was at the ready with a handkerchief just before he walked me down the aisle…and how perfectly he performed such a very-important-to-me role from the foyer to the doors to the aisle to the actual giveaway (I love and miss you, Daddy!)
  • when Donna & Matt reverently escorted the Host and those worthy to receive it
  • when we shared the light from our unity candle with everyone in attendance…and wow is that a great photo!
  • when our (again, introvert) photographer was able to properly wrangle the Luza chaos into place for the big-damn-family portrait
  • when Leanne and Winkler set about 400 candles ablaze at our reception…to give the reception the look I wanted
  • when Chad and Brandon moved the altar arrangement to the reception (a step I had left out of the wedding day timeline)
  • when we weren’t yet “at” the reception; I peeked inside and saw decor moved and curtains pulled up off the floor and folded over a railing; I persisted until I found out the keg “exploded” beer all over the place; I’m still grateful that our family/friends took care of it as best they could in hopes that I’d never find out; no telling what else they “saved me from” that day!
  • when (again, when I peeked in) I saw everyone drinking our fancy margaritas…since there was no beer for the cocktail hour!
  • when Charles & Elain led us all, including my non-Czech/Catholic family and friends, through the Grand March, which rolled into our first dance, which was then severely interrupted by Aunt Grace, but that was fine because my dad’s laughter was priceless…making her shenanigans all worth it!
  • when, just after the first few reception “events-within-the-event” our photographer pulled us outside for some sunset images; Emil genuinely kissed me on the forehead, and Tim instantly said, “do that again!” One of my favorite shots!
  • when Mike DJ’d with the eloquence I felt worthy of a romantic day; we made the right choice in hiring a friend instead of “real” DJ
  • when, during the siblings portrait, Bobby hugged me and said, “Welcome to the family, Sis.”
  • when Sandra/Roy emcee’d each and every little “event-within-the-event” with perfection, poise, and humor
  • when Leanne and the other Replant members asked for a photo with us
  • when my grandparents danced for a few moments during the Generations Dance; Mama Bee was miserable yet tolerant of my wishes, but Grandaddy was elated
  • when Bob joked about his little gift prank of “camping” “egg cartons”; he must have given us three of them between our shower, the wedding, and “just because”
  • when Ali (and her/Jenn’s mom) found me at the water “barrel” and said sweet things about our ceremony (which given the month, colors, and similar faith was right on target with her own wedding a year or two before)
  • when Tres (Charlie the Third) danced with me, and when he danced with Kelly
  • when (one more time) our photographer remembered one of my Must Have images of us getting margaritas from the margarita fountain
  • when Pam & Pat were dancing to the songs we picked just for them (Play That Funky Music, White Boy and Brick House); probably my most favorite image from the whole reception
  • when Jenn made sure I remembered to give Emil’s mom, my parents, and my grandparents their gifts; yep, I had forgotten
  • when Daddy asked if he could change; he was so concerned about being properly dressed for long enough, but also knew he had to give his tux to Emil’s brother Tim to return on Sunday
  • when Emil told me and all our guests of our honeymoon location (I was too stressed out with wedding planning and asked him to plan the whole honeymoon & not tell me where we were going; he bought/packed me everything from swimsuits to sweaters): Greece; I’m still kinda dumbfounded that we did that; best wedding decision I made; best trip ev-AR; the image of my face during the reveal is another favorite image. Thank you, Julie, for your stories that made me appreciate Greece from afar.
  • when Crystal, who is Greek, taught us Thank You (Efharistó) and other key phrases in Greek in anticipation of our trip
  • when Emil gave envelopes containing itineraries and contact info to both our moms in case the unthinkable happened while we were abroad
  • when we had our getaway to the sights of bubbles and the sounds of little bells; it was a perfect blend for our senses to end our perfect day!

Happy Anniversary, Emil, my darling, my love. We had our perfect day, and these last 10 years have been the best of my life. I know the next decade will be just as exuberant as the last.

xxxooo

I miss you, Daddy. Terribly!

I still love you “a bushel and a peck“.

As I did my best last week to console a benefactor of @dropalovebomb, I was reminded, all over again, of how hard losing you has been. All these years later, I still think about you every day. I still wonder how different my life would be if you were here. I still yearn for how many more lives you would have touched with your talents and love.

You were, in the long run, everyone’s favorite. I’m heartbroken that you didn’t know that.

…only the good die young.
- Billy Joel, and others, I’m sure.

Memories From That Horrid Day

[Emil & I were on our way to our then-annual Alternative Spring Break trip with students. We routinely volunteered our time for the week doing trail reconstruction on the Continental Divide Trail in the Gila National Forest. We did hard labor all day, enjoyed dinner/evenings by the fire, slept in 22-degree sleet, and loved every minute of it. Our overnight stop on the journey up was in El Paso.]

• At 2-3pm
  • my strange off-topic recollection of a nightmare from a ~year before depicting your death (which must have happened within minutes of you slipping away) and one student’s confused face upon my sharing; I’m sorry if I freaked her out. [On the day after the nightmare, I owe thanks to your secretary, who put me through to Mom, who made sure I could talk to you and hear your voice on that day. Mom understood the irrational fear in my voice and my simple need to hear your's.]
  • the blowout in the other van and the immediate walkie-talkie update to that fact
  • Emil and some students from our van helping them change the tire on the 15-passenger van [these models were later removed from the University System's fleet of vehicles after several fatal accidents in the state.]
  • the wind; oh you hated the wind…and so do I!
  • Emil walking back to our van with a speed double that of the other students, literally
• At 5-6pm
  • mine/Emil’s phones ringing in some kind of sick tandem while his sister, Lydia, called again and again to try to get through to us in the mountains of El Paso before we set up camp for the night. You see, the blowout was a blessing. It put our trip behind schedule by ~30 minutes. That was just enough time to keep us from being next to a Mariachi band when the calls came
  • overhearing Emil’s end of the conversation with his sister and assuming a version of “the worst” for their family
  • hearing Emil ask for clarification (and, later I learned, disbelief), “who was this, again?“
  • after Emil, hugging Leanne, next, and sobbing into her shoulder
  • recognizing that our students were hungry and that, while we couldn’t make the promised Mexican feast, we had to get them to some food
  • the love and care from some students/colleagues who are also dear friends (Thanks, again, Beth, Leanne, Angela. I can never repay that kind of support, but I will try)
• At I-don’t-even-know-but-it-went-from-light-to-dusk-to-dark-to-#We’veBeenHereTooLong pm
  • the absurdity of Student Activities/Affairs at Texas A&M University–including Kevin P. Jackson [1] and Monica Latham–to enforce ridiculous Risk Management policies that were not in accordance with University standards or policies–in the wake of a genuine emergency…and…
  • …spending hours in a McDonald’s (where we could get good cell phone reception) with all our students (who had been expecting a ~nice Mexican dinner) trying to figure out how to get everyone where they needed to be.
    To quote one University official who returned our calls on a Saturday night, “I don’t care what Student Activities’ policies are! Those are not our rules. Get your asses in the van, and come home.” [He said this to the student leader, Beth, and then made her give me the phone so he could tell me what he told her. Beth, do you remember his name? I wish I did!]
  • being the person who found my own “suitable” (again, in the eyes of Kevin P. Jackson and Monica Latham [2]) replacement to escort our students back home. Really? I had to dig through my phone and call my own personal friends to find someone “suitable”? Someone on your staff? So you didn’t try–in any way at all–to help solve the problem? GTH. I called Angela knowing she had other Spring Break plans, but with the hope she’d know someone “qualified” (again) and available to escort. Turns out, she wasn’t leaving for one more day and could do it all herself.
  • being sick, on top of it all and spending a large part of my night curled up in the bathtub of our hotel room that our students so generously purchased [3]

  [1] “affairs” and “Kevin P. Jackson” in the same sentence. Irony, much? #bastard At least he finally got the boot he so richly deserved. While I wouldn’t wish him on any human entity, I do wish he’d been stuck with options at places like Podunk U. somewhere near the 75th parallel south.
  [2] #bitch No two ways about it. She had her “day” too, when her whole staff asked Kevin for her resignation. wow.
  Friendly reminder: It’s not slander or libel if it’s true!
  [3] I’m certain I never properly thanked them for this gesture. I was shell-shocked and then the semester was over. To those who read this, still, or find it, now, thank you. It was more comfort than I realized at the time. I was numb…and knew I would be for a while; I could have slept on a train track. Yet, when my infection set in, it was exactly what I needed.

  • WTF? It’s a terrible day, certainly, but my memories all the years later are still laced with illogical and asinine absurdities? WTFFFFFFF [4]? No wonder I didn’t want an Aggie ring. [5] And those who care to can compare today’s recollections with the story from 9 years ago.

  [4] Credit to Casey Brown, who I’m sure doesn’t even know about our blog
  [5] Another story. Another day.

Finally, Daddy, here is one of the last known pictures of you….showing Mom’s parents something about the new house….the one you closed on, but never even slept in.

It’s hard enough to get to both Thanksgivings with some kind of contribution to the meals. Now, I’ll bring my own entire meal.

I wish I could “just eat sides”. That would be LANDS easier. Or, if I could have a weekend of allowed cheats….that would be easier, too. However, it’s not that simple. Sides will be laced with butter and/or cheeses and/or creamy sauces. After no meat/diary for several months, it’s quite likely that eating items that rich will make me sick. The only things I know for sure that I can eat will be tossed salad (BYO dressing of course) and whatever rolls my grandmother prepares (because she’ll leave butter off of one for me). Everything else at the Luza semi-potluck will be a crap shoot. Everything my grandmother will prepare will have a dairy protein in it.

So, our plan is that Emil is contributing a dessert to the meal at his mom’s. My grandmother has offered to buy me whatever I want and let me cook it when we get there (delaying the meal by another 20-30 minutes). So, I’m going to cook up the tofurkey and trimmings (like a vegan gravy!) and make a couple of sides for my meal in Bryan. Then, in Paris, I’ll have the leftover tofurkey and some different sides I make at her house.

So, I’m off to research thanksgiving-worthy vegan side dishes that will make ahead and reheat well. Then, I have to figure out how I can transport it without making a giant mess.

It should be interesting to say the least.

• woke up early enough to get on the road before most traffic
• left Paris at 9:30 and and made it to Austin by 2pm
• settled in and had our own Christmas exchange and then relaxed for the rest of the evening