Denise Versus The Cabinet Door

So my month of "horror" began on January 27 with this upper cabinet/pantry door.

It looks like a regular door, doesn't it?

And it is a regular door. Because you know the old saying, "Doors don't do stupid things. People do stupid things."

Keep that saying in mind as we scroll along.

Now here is a photo of that upper cabinet/pantry door in context. 

Forgive the food sitting on the counter, waiting to be put away. We're coming out of two weeks of sickness at our home, and we definitely set our priorities (cleaning and organizing fell off the list).

Now just beyond that "window" over the kitchen sink (near the paper towel roll) is technically a dining room. But we use it for our coffee bar area. 

Tiny likes to sit under the coffee bar (my grandmother's dresser repurposed). He also likes to eat near the coffee bar.

I suppose "likes to eat" is a bit of an exaggeration. Tiny does not (overall) like to eat, unless we're talking treats or grapes.

So mealtimes with Mr. Tiny are elaborate affairs, where someone needs to sit near him and coax him to eat. He loves food once he gets going. So that's not the problem.

We suspect Tiny, as the runt of his litter in a breeder home, also landed on the empty bowl side of mealtime, since he seems to be "saving" the food instead of eating it.

He also has some digestive issues, with all tests negative for all sorts of gastrointestional health things along with allergies.

Anyway, we have a trainer Tiny likes and a veterinarian we like sorting that mess out. That's just a little background for the fun to come.

So during this particular time in January, we were trying a special canned food for Tiny that he did seem to like and eat on his own.

The problem is that one could only put a bit in his bowl at the time. If one gave Tiny too much, he wouldn't eat it. If one dawdled too long in refilling the bowl, he walked away and wouldn't eat it.

Also, this particular food is quite sticky. One can't simply set a giant blob in Tiny's bowl for him to figure out (he doesn't). The blob needs to to be fork cut (or spoon or knife cut) into manageable chunks and then slid into his bowl before he quites finishes the previous blobby chunks.

So timing - and great speed - are key here.

Now for a little more background.

Faith was having her own challenging January. Although her blood tests were normal, she was eating and drinking more (a lot more) to keep up with her fluid and calories requirements (and failing).

Oh, and appliances were breaking in the house at record speed. This resulted in everyone running on fumes and reduced sleep just to responsibly address all the challenges (PS: All but one appliance is till not fixed).

So back to January 27.

Rebekah and I had just returned from a WriteOn Joliet meeting, and Daniel (who was busy with something in that moment) asked me to feed Tiny.

So before I even went upstairs to check on Faith, I took care of my tiny little adorable Pembroke Welsh Corgi. 

Remember that spot on the counter where the food and acorn squash are sitting? That space was bare, and I was using that space to cut up food for Tiny and rushing it around the corner before he ate the previous serving.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, at - oh, I estimate twenty miles per hour.

On the final trip, my face smashed into the open cabinet door, just like in a Saturday morning cartoon.

I thought I'd broken my face. My glasses were twisted. I'm thinking concussion, retinal detachment etc. as I raced to the freezer for ice.

Rebekah, who was equally tired and even more dehydrated than Faith, had blearily gone into the cabinet for powdered electrolyte solution, which she set on the island to mix. She was going to close the door after she mixed the drink and put the solution away.

She never thought I would not see a cabinet door of that size open to its full width.

But I was in "Tiny Zoomy mode" and running on autopilot and paying attention to absolutely nothing else.

Daniel finished feeding Tiny while I iced my face.

Timothy reformed my glasses (my only pair, and I'm blind without them) while I iced my face.

Rebekeh checked on Faith and gave Faith her night meds while I iced my face.

Was it a God thing? My swiftness in grabbing ice?

Whatever the reason, I escaped the whole incident relatively unscathed.

No swelling.

No bruising.

Just slight tenderness above my left eyebrow to my hairline.

But before we embarked on a really rough February...

...Tiny meekly (more or less, mostly less) finished his food and brought me a toy, ready to play.

For Every Challenge Last Week, We Had An Equal or Greater Blessing (Part 1)

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Newton's Third Law of Motion.

"For every challenge, there is an equal and opposite blessing." Denise M. Baran-Unland

So I took last week off last in a feeble attempt to use up some of my neglected vacation time before 2025 bids us all farewell.

Every day (if you can believe it), seriously every single day, brought a challenge we had to tackle.

But every single day also brought a blessing.

As I was documenting that in the blog I wanted to share with you today - you know, to encourage you - the entire thing (words, photo) disappeared from my eyes and was replaced with this message: "You can now write online."

And then even that message was gone.

For any writers reading this: What a great example of "show" instead of "tell."

Grumble.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to rewrite this blog now.

But I'm assuming the new version will be amazing.

And it will also include this morning's newest challenge.

Happy Monday!

Funny What We Forget

One benefit of cloud-based photo storage is that I can search by date and see the images I captured last year, two years ago, ten years ago.

Consider this photo from February 16, 2019. I saw it while scrolling through February 16 photos and it caused me to pause and wonder why I snapped it in the first place.

This looks like a terrible day, doesn't it? I feel stressed just looking at it. 

But you know what? I can't recall this day at all. I don't remember what caused the need for so much coffee and the level of disarray at my desk. I can't recall the project I was tackling, why the room is so dark, and what stressors were taking place.

It's funny what we forget, isn't it?

Issues that seemed so overwhelming in the moment quickly fade once they resolve. And that's a great blessing.

It's also a good reminder as we embark upon another week that's certain to include some stress and negativity.

No matter how horrible certain instances might be, the odds are we won't remember them. Or, if we do, the memory of the horribleness will soften and fade.

Time may not heal all wounds. But time will heal quite a few of them - and spare our energy to heal the ones that linger.

That perspective, of course, won't change the present challenges. But it can give us hope when we struggle and flounder.

Now back to this photo. I'd like to point out the hidden joy in an image that looks chaotic at first glance.

The carryout coffee cups shows at least one person (maybe two) brought me coffee on that day.

The blue pen holder with the tulips (which I still use) was made by Sarah when she went to Brownie day camp at Hammel Woods in Shorewood many, many years ago. I'm still using it even today and it's a reminder of then and now.

Christopher built my actual desktop (right) and added glowing blue and purple lights (my favorite colors).

Timothy provided the larger screen (larger for the time - you should see the one he bought that I use now!), a keyboard that is easy on my fingers, and  stapler when my old one broke.

My mother bought my original computer in 1998 when I started freelancing for The Herald-News as a single mom of six children ages two through fifteen, and I was still using the base with the switches in 2019. 

I can see at least two greeting cards sitting on that base, which means someone cared enough to send them.

I've printed out plenty of paperwork on a working commercial printer that I own, and I apparently have/had plenty of projects and work to keep me busy.

The computer table was a gift from my parents, which did not survive the last two moves.

So you see? In the middle of the turmoil, I was surrounded by love.

We can't avoid the dark moments. But the light is always there, if we take the time to find it, notice it.

May you always find the light in your dark.

Happy Monday!

'But I Didn't Die'

A few weeks ago, WriteOn Joliet charter member Duanne Walton shared a piece he'd written that most people around the table felt was very relatable.

In that piece, Duanne shared a series of hard times that had befallen him over the years and ended each anecdote with the refrain, "But I didn't die."

Since mid-2021, our families have experienced an seemingly unending, unbroken line of challenges that have included numerous health emergencies and deaths.

The latest for me, was a back injury along with the almost simultaneous death of our black cat Midnight.

After ten blurry days of some really horrible pain on top of a very full work and life schedule, I remembered Duanne's piece one night and shouted at the mirror, "But I didn't die!"

Some Tylenol is finally mitigating some of the back pain (from PAIN to pain), and I'm figuring out how to squeeze another doctor's appointment into this week without using a sick day (I have two others already and this week is very, very full).

And I'm repeating, "But I didn't die," quite a bit.

Maybe Duanne's refrain will help you, too, if you're experiencing some tough times. And if not, tuck the thought away somewhere for when those tough times show up.

Thank you, Duanne, for sharing such a great piece - and great insight.

Happy Monday!

Birthday Cake for Breakfast

I share a July 15 birthday with my granddaughter Riley.

She turned eight this year, and I turned sixty-three.

We celebrated on July 13 with a family cookout at a park and then we went swimming.

The candles didn't stay lit on our cakes, so we never blew them out (but we did sing "Happy Birthday").

We went swimming afterwards, but that was cut short with a storm (accompanied by thunder and lightning).

I had spent fourteen hours overnight in the ER earlier that week and did a second act after the party ended.

July 15 followed two all-nighters for me (both due to pain) and a celebration trip to Fox Valley Mall for Rebekah, Riley, and me. The day was bracketed by stressful doctors appointments on either end. The finale was quite the storm that night (and plenty storm coverage by The Herald-News editorial team the next day).

So we never cut into my cake until mid-week, due to circumstances and the fact the four of us who live together wanted to enjoy that cake together. So we did that one day, early in the morning, before everyone dashed off to work.

So what's the moral of the story here?

As I've previously mentioned, we've had a challenging few years of many emergencies and deaths. June and July have been especially intense, with a near constant feeling of hanging off a precipice.

More is in store for us, but we did get a much welcomed breather this weekend. So thankful!

So the point of this post is not to whine, but to maybe offer some hope for dark times.

"This too shall pass" is really true (I am currently not in pain).

Don't get hung up when plans don't work out according to our plans. Make other plans. Yes, really.

Storms will come, but the sun will come out again. (It's raining today, but the sun shone this past weekend).

Circumstances will sometimes rule the day. But every once in a while, rule the circumstances, just to show circumstances who's really boss.

There's nothing wrong with having cake for breakfast.

Art Linkletter: 'We Did With Less And Made It Matter More'

While double-checking a couple of "Art Linkletter" facts for a special Thanksgiving story for The Herald-News, I stumbled upon a gem of an interview with Art in 2009, eleven months before his death.

The YouTube video was called "Overcoming Challenging Times." It was some of the best four minutes and twenty-seven seconds I've spent.

Listen for yourself right here. It's my gift to you today.

What a Real Family Thanksgiving Looks Like

Memory is a magician. Did you know that?

With perspective in one hand and the passage of time in the other, memory fools us into thinking that our past family holidays and get-togethers look like a Norman Rockwell piece of art.

When they don't - and the pressure is real because postings on social media imply everyone else is having that type of holiday - our spirits can sink lower than an elephant in quicksand.

I feel like any time you herd a bunch of relatives into one room, they'll butt heads as often as they rub shoulders. Add a heaping seasoning of real life to the occasion, and you can end up with scorched feelings, even if the food turns out perfectly and the decor is magazine-worthy.

We wisely choose to forget the negative parts as the special day passes. But we should try to remember them in real time so our expectations are realistic.

So...

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, full of love, joy, peace, and good food.

But let me tell you what was happening in the background.

One adult child had surgical extraction at a major medical university of all the teeth in his mouth one week before Thanksgiving.

My father now has Alzheimer's, and Ron has been in a nursing home with dementia for the last few years.

Two adult children are going through either a separation or divorce and both situations are challenging.

Two relatives (an in-law and step-grandson) had COVID over Thanksgiving, which nixed any carefully curated plans those members of the family had made.

One adult child is struggling with depression.

We have several relatives on the autism spectrum.

Many are struggling with finances.

More than a few greeted Thanksgiving Day overworked and underslept, so tempers flared here and there and now and then.

We dined only with immediate family because it's still COVID - although our natural inclination in a pre-pandemic world is to cook a bunch of food and host a bunch of people in a open-house fashion.

We also ordered five dinners from an expensive restaurant to send to a single parent family in our family - and the food was not as good as anticipated.

Quick side story.

Years ago, when my family was throwing newspapers, I occasionally hired the teen son of some acquaintances. My kids had lots of inserts to assemble for their paying customers, so this son helped with throwing and porching papers.

On the day before Thanksgiving, I had said son with me and I asked him what he was "thankful for" this year.

He said, "My family, my friends, and my church - because without God, I don't know where I'd be."

The next day, he helped me again with one of my routes. Except on this day, he was pretty shaken up. He did not know his family was having money problems. And when he woke up to leave for the route, the family vehicle was gone. It had been repossessed.

So I reminded him what he was "thankful for" this year. And I further reminded him that one of those items was not the family car.

In fact, everything this young man treasured, he still had on that Thanksgiving Day. And he could rejoice and be glad in that.

Now I understand some of us had to stretch this year to rejoice and be glad. We may have lost loved ones to COVID, cancer, or family rifts. We may have lost our homes, our jobs, our health, a good friend.

But in every hour, in every minute, we can find a blessing.

If you spent Thanksgiving alone, perhaps you're blessed with support on social media.

Or perhaps you're meant to reach out to someone who is lonelier than you are. Because that person does exist.

So maybe, if you can't find a blessing, your job is to make one. There's an old saying: "It's better to light a candle than to curse the darkness."

Back to our house.

We were so busy cooking, we forgot to take photos. So I don't have any to share.

We didn't take any photos of us sitting around the table because an argument broke out at at the start of dinner. That dinner photo at the top of this post? That's from last year.

We didn't take any photos of us sitting around the table playing games bcause an argument broke out at the start of the first game.

OK.

Those things do happen.

Those things did pass.

I can tell you that, for most of the day, we rested a lot, ate a lot of wonder homemade food, connected with loved ones, and laughed for hours, way, way, way past midnight.

That's midnight, the hour, not the cat. Sorry Midnight.

And when next Thanksgiving rolls around again, the love, the laughter, the food prepared with love and laughter (we didn't laugh at it, we laughed with each other as we prepared), the peace, the relaxation - those are the parts that we will remember and treasure.

As we should.

The rest?

Address it, in love, if it's a real issue.

If it's not, let it go...

A Time to Work, A Time to be Challenged

I truly believe one is never too old to learn and to tackle new challenges.

This was certainly true for me this past weekend.

To be clear, I'm not complaining. I feel blessed, especially since it happened on a weekend when we commemorate the Holy Spirit.

Today I am tired, so the struggle is real.

But there is also an underlying exhilaration in being stretched far past my skills and what I used to consider my best.

Side note: Daniel very graciously did a copy edit this weekend on Cornell Dyer and the Missing Tombstone. It was Rebekah's idea and a good one. Can't believe I didn't think of it. Just as soon as I have an opportunity to add his changes to the manuscript, we can reupload it. The goal is this weekend.

Ditto for the reviews from Joliet Montessori. Thank you for your patience.

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair." 2 Corinthians 4:8

Have a beautiful Monday,vampire fans. :)