As I shared a couple of days ago, I’ve never been a fan of green, grassy-tasting juices, even though I love vegetables and all manner of green salads. A huge pile of romaine and field greens and butter lettuce with chopped asparagus and broccoli florets and sprouts and raw sunnies and red cabbage? Yes, please. But a glass with the juice from any of those things? Uhhh, I think I have to go clean my toilets.

But I’m trying. I’m trying because Michael loves green juices and I know they’re a wonderful way to flood our bodies with vitamins, minerals and enzymes. So my goal has been to try to make one good-sized green juice for us per day. Yesterday that didn’t happen and Michael reminded me of that last night. So today I’ll be making us a juice that is so delicious it’s my favorite so far. I got the recipe from my niece Savannah, who got the recipe off of this website.

All items are organic.

2 large carrots (I hate carrot juice but in this I can’t taste it)
2 large handfuls of Kale leaves (or Swiss chard, which is a bit milder)
1 red apple
1 Granny Smith apple
1 orange (the peel zested off, but white pith remaining)
1 lime (the peel zested off, but white pith remaining)

To me, this is more of a morning juice because of the fruit in it. I made the recipe above for Michael, and when I made my own I only put in one apple, and I enjoyed it just as much.

Here’s a picture of this juice:

Today we have a carpenter friend coming over to do some work for us. Michael has requested a handrail in our shower, and a short one in our entry, where three steps lead to this hallway where a bathroom, the office and all the bedrooms are.

Things seem like they’re changing quickly, and “one day at a time” has taken on new meaning for me.

Also, I have decided I need a mentor and I’ve actually been praying that the Lord would bring one to me. I may be too old in some people’s minds to have a mentor, but I am missing the presence of an older, wiser woman in my life, so I’m asking.

This week I will spend some time with my dear friend Carey before she heads off to a large island in the South Pacific for a month. I also get to meet with my SAGgy girlfriends for our monthly dinner. In a day or two I’m going to try a new recipe for veggie and quinoa pilaf. I have a lovely appointment for a preoperative physical exam with my new doctor. I will be caring for and smooching my eighth grandchild Louisa. And I have several dates with a few piles of paperwork.

What will you be doing for the next couple of days?

“The only way we can be impatient with human frailty is by remaining stubbornly blind to our own.”

J.J. Seid

*       *       *       *       *       *

 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

Jesus
(Matthew 7:3-5)

*         *         *         *         *         *         *

When I woke up this morning around 4:50, the sun was already beginning to come up over Lake Superior. The weather forecast says the rain is gone for a while and sunny days are ahead. Literally, at least. Figuratively? I’m not sure about that one.

The birds start their singing right at sunrise, and several times this month I’ve heard a cardinal in the distance, but haven’t seen him yet. We have a couple of feeders on our front deck, and one with suction cups stuck to our front window, so several times during the day we can watch birds feed there just two feet from us.

The chickadees are the frequent flyers, closely followed by many variations of sparrows. We had a blue jay at our pole feeder yesterday. We love how polite the chickadees are. While other birds just fly right to the suction cup feeder and cause the bird already there to quickly fly off, the chickadees perch on the deck railing and watch, only taking their turn when their friend has gotten his seed and flown out. They seem to have it timed perfectly; just as the chickadee in the feeder finds his seed and secures it in his tiny bill, he flies out and the next one on the railing flutters in that very same second. Maybe there’s a tiny manual out there called The Chickadee Book of Etiquette. 🙂

We’ve also had many purple finches. I’m not sure why they’re named purple finches since they seem reddish to me, but we love to see them. They look like common sparrows with a blush of red painted transparently over their top brown feathers. Do you have purple finches in your area?

In a little over two weeks I’ll be having my knee replacement surgery, and I’m doing my quadriceps-strengthening exercises and making plans and lists for those who’ll be here caring for Michael and our Fosters while I’m away for three days and two nights. Dear friends have offered to bring some meals and I could cry from gratitude and relief.

Our original plan was for Michael to come down to Stillwater, MN with my friend Su’s husband Danny, and they would stay in a hotel together and come and visit Su and me in the hospital during the day. Now we’ve changed our plans and Michael will be staying home. He is becoming more confused with each passing day, and even though there’s no definitive test for this, his neurologist has implied that he is also developing Parkinson’s Dementia. Just this morning when I gave him a tall glass of ice water with fresh lemon juice squeezed into it, rather than take his morning meds with it like he usually does, he began to drop his pills into the glass first. I was able to reach out and intercept them, but when I told Michael to put them in his mouth instead of in his water, he said, “I sometimes do it like this too.” But he doesn’t.

I don’t know if any of you have ever seen a Parkinson’s patient festinate (another word for it is fenestrate) but it’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed. My husband used to be the epitome of the Minnesota outdoor man. He loved to hunt and fish, he was strong and active and had energy that never flagged. He was up and down ladders a hundred times a week, walking with perfect balance on scaffolding and roofs many stories high. He grew a beard for half the year and with his plaid flannel shirts, jeans and work boots, I often thought he looked like Grizzly Adams. Now Michael’s brain lies to him and tells him a normal doorway is too narrow for him to pass through, and he does the awful rapid shuffling called festinating as he tries to get into a room. Click here if you want to see what what a mild form of it looks like.

I read recently that relatives of Alzheimer’s patients say their loved one no longer recognizes them, but relatives of Parkinson’s patients say they no longer recognize their loved one. It’s horribly true. Michael’s personality seems to be fading away, and who I see every day is not a lot like the man I married in 1981 after only having met him one time. 

His face is often blank, his head sometimes bobs grotesquely, his torso dips and sways from the side effects of the only medicine there is for him, and his speech is almost impossible to understand. I know my Michael is in there somewhere, that his spirit is alive and thriving, but unfortunately I don’t have spiritual eyes to see that yet. I believe it in faith. He and I used to read the Bible together almost every morning, and pray together for our children and friends. When I used to share a burden with him, he would take my hand and pray with such strong and quiet faith that I almost always felt better, and certainly didn’t feel alone. But it’s not like that anymore. I haven’t felt like reading with him much. And I have asked him to pray with me, but he forgets that we’ve prayed before an hour has passed, so I don’t ask so much anymore. And I often feel alone.

Doctors say that PD patients are impaired in the executive functioning part of their brain, the part that helps them look at a suitcase that needs to be carried and carry it, or a drawer that needs closing and close it, or feel a stomach that’s growling and feed it. It’s the part of the brain that helps us make decisions and gives a person the initiative to do what comes next. Michael began to lose that a long time ago. So now when I have to tell him to put on his jacket or eat an apple or drink some water or brush his teeth or wipe his nose, it makes me feel like his mother. And even though I’m working hard on not complaining and regularly counting my blessings (of which there are so many), I hate having to tell him when and how to do basic things. And I can tell he doesn’t like it either.

So when I woke up this morning I thought to myself, is this living? And the answer I gave myself was, yes it is. It may not be what you would choose, but you are alive and Michael is alive and God has given you this day to love, to be loved, and to experience His sufficiency and grace. 

So today I resolve to watch the birds that come to our feeder and rejoice in how beautiful and miraculous they are. I will hug and kiss my husband and treat him like he’s still in there, no matter how much this ugly disease has masked and stolen from him. I will make us each a pineapple and almond milk smoothie and close my eyes while I’m tasting it, and thank God for food and taste buds and pleasure. I will turn on some music that will help me lift my heart up to the Lord, and I will sing along with it and dance a little bad-knee-jig for a minute or two.

And if we are headed into the desert, I will remember that Jesus has been in the desert before us, and that with Him we have nothing to fear.

We’ve had some very heavy rain lately, with flash flood warnings. That seems like nothing compared to the devastation we watched on the news this morning in Oklahoma. As I sat there in my plaid flannel nightgown with a hot cup of tea in warmth and safety, I prayed for the people there, especially those who have lost children. What can people like Michael and me do for those who are suffering? At this stage of our lives, all I know to do is pray and send money. And to not take for granted this day we’re given, because there are no guarantees that we won’t be the ones needing help and comfort another time.

On to more trivial things — Michael and I bought a juicer recently. We’ve watched several mind-blowing movies that have opened the door of my previously tightly closed mind just a crack, and I’m incorporating a few new things into our days that I would never have considered before.

Part of my motivation stems from some obvious signs in past years that my immune system is lagging. I’ve written before about how I was diagnosed with an immune system disease in 2002 called Sarcoidosis, which thankfully went into remission (or disappeared completely!) after about a year. But now when I can’t get over a cold without it turning into a weeks-long infection that needs major pharmaceutical intervention? Not good.

When my children were very young I was a whole foods kind of mom, and they didn’t eat sugar and most refined foods. We ate lots of fruits and vegetables and whole grains. When we moved to Minnesota I began to let things slide because the food culture here was so different from Southern California. And I guess it has been downhill ever since. We still eat fruits, vegetables, raw nuts and seeds, love salads and eat whole grains, but I have become lax in many ways regarding meal prep.

After watching this, this, this, and (be forewarned there’s a bit of language in this,), I’m trying to make one green juice a day for Michael and me. I love green vegetables and crave salads, but drinking anything green and grassy smelling has always made me gag. To successfully down a green drink would usually take me thirty minutes and lots of begging God. Michael used to drink Barley Green every day and loved it — he’s not put off by the agricultural fragrance or flavor of green drinks at all.

But I got me some people I need to take care of. And I got me-my-own-self I need to take care of. So I squinched my eyes shut and clicked on the “buy” button on amazon, and our juicer arrived a couple of days later.

Here’s what we’ve been having, and because of the fruit in it, I can actually drink it down within three minutes (Michael guzzles his) and still be standing upright and smiling afterward:

Organic Green Juice

4-6 large kale or Swiss chard leaves (I cannot believe I am actually typing those words)
1 peeled cucumber
4 stalks celery
1 cup strawberries
1 Granny Smith apple
1 piece ginger root
1 handful fresh parsley

I have added the juice of a lemon at times and have also used organic romaine, which is a bit milder than the kale. Today I’m actually soaking some chia seeds to use in tomorrow’s juice.

I also still eat pizza, drink milk very occasionally, and had a Culver’s Butterburger last week, so the changes I’m making are very slow changes. But it can’t hurt us to add an enzyme-rich, vitamin and mineral-rich green drink to our diets, and we’ll see how it makes us feel and whether or not we experience any really noticeable health differences.

I’ve also read many times from different sources that our American diets cause our bodies to be very acidic, and eating foods that are alkalizing is a good thing. So Michael and I have been drinking melon smoothies, and we LOVE them. Three ingredient yumminess!

Honeydew Smoothie

1.  I cut up a ripe honeydew melon into ice-cube sized chunks and freeze them.

2.  When it’s time for a smoothie I let the honeydew chunks thaw for about 15-20 minutes, just until they’re not rock hard anymore.

3.  In a blender or Nutribullet (we have both and the latter works better for this) I pour unsweetened almond milk and a little honey, and blend it for a few seconds.

4. Then the honeydew chunks can be thrown in and blended until completely smooth, and more almond milk can be added until the mixture is pourable.

I can’t tell you how rich and refreshing this tastes to us.

So enough about juices and smoothies, now I want to tell you something cute and funny. We had our 10 year-old grandson Mr. McBoy over for two nights recently, and we had such a good time with him. I taught him how to play Gin Rummy, he beat me at Farkle, we read books together, listened to G.T. and the Halo Express CDs while the rain beat against the windows, and just enjoyed each other’s company. On Saturday evening I asked Mr. McBoy if he would massage my feet for me (he is known for his strong hands and cheerful willingness to give hand and foot rubs), and he readily agreed. I thought five minutes would be generous of him, but he rubbed my hands and forearms, ankles and neck, and then offered to rub my back if I would lay down on the floor while Grandpa watched Gunsmoke nearby. I did. After a few minutes of my teetering on the edge of a blissful coma, Mr. McBoy said, “Grandma, I don’t mean to be gross but if you want, I can massage lower on your back, near your gelatinous magnus.”

Oh yes. How apt.

You know what he was trying to say, don’t you? I chuckled and said, “You mean my gluteus maximus?” and he giggled when he realized his mispronunciation and said, “Oh yeah, I meant that.”

I declined his offer, but I think I’ll always remember what he said. It will be something we’ll get a kick over many years from now. I told Mr. McBoy that gelatinous magnus is probably a much more accurate term for my backside than the correct anatomical term. 🙂

I love a good malapropism (the act of using an incorrect word in place of one that is similar in pronunciation), don’t you?

I know a little girl who used to say “I don’t want to take anything for granite.” I have a friend who heard someone else comment in a theater while watching Schindler’s List: “Oh how sad, look at all those emancipated people!” I have someone in my own home who says, “It’s cold outside and I need to get all bumbled up!”

How about you? Can you think of a malapropism you’ve heard or one you’ve said yourself? If yes, why don’t you sit right down on your gelatinous magnus and leave a comment telling us what it is?

I can’t wait to read all the perpendiculars! 😉

Today is Sharing Day at Community Bible Study, the final day and celebration that closes 30 weeks of study. We studied Mark and Ephesians this year, and it has been marvelous. Next year we’ll be spending our 30 weeks in Daniel, Job and 1 & 2 Peter.

The leadership from our class will do a song at Sharing Day that I can barely get through without sobbing. Tears stream down my face every time we sing it. I don’t think any song better depicts what CBS is all about.

It’s called “Ancient Words” and is sung by one of my favorites, Robin Mark.

Have you heard the song? It makes me want to take up my Bible with more reverence and awe than I do.

If you have never attended CBS, you can click here to see if there’s a class near you. This fall will begin my 16th year and nothing has ever affected my spiritual life more.

Have a blessed week!

If you have visited my blog regularly, you may have come to recognize some of the names of the friends who comment here. It always makes me happy when a commenter acknowledges another person’s comments or offers encouragement. I’ve seen this happen on other blogs as well, as if a tiny community of people who haven’t met springs up under His name and love.

Today I’m going to share a prayer request with you, from my dear friend Kay who lives in Cornwall, in the south of England. She and her husband Alan are sincere believers who live a quiet life, face some serious health problems with cheerfulness and trust in God, and who have recently gone through a very difficult thing. With her permission, here are Kay’s words:

‘I believe that the enemy strikes out at us in various ways. In my experience I’ve found that he tends to spot my weak points and attacks them one-by-one. In the past I’ve been attacked financially, through bullying at work, health issues and loneliness, to name a few.

However the latest attack is related to a tradesman who has taken £865 from us and has not done the work. He has given us EIGHTEEN excuses and has had three phone calls from the police about this matter, and still he continues to dangle us on a string, so to speak.

Because this is basically a civil matter, we could take months pursuing this debt and still end up with nothing in return.

We have lost a large amount of money and although we are not rich, to be totally frank, God has indeed provided us with all we need. So, in a way, it’s not so much the amount of money that hurts, it’s more that I feel that my husband and I have been taken for fools. And I know that is a pride matter which is sin. But, even though I know my error, it feels like my ‘spark’, my joy, has been taken from me. I have suffered depression in the past and right now I can feel it’s trying to overcome me again.

I don’t ask for prayer for the return of the money, I ask for prayer for protection against depression.’

So, dear readers, will you pray for Kay and Alan? I am praying not only for what Kay has requested — that her joy and spark would return, but that this money stolen from them will be repaid.

I invite you to leave a comment to let Kay know you’ll be praying, even if it’s just a word or two. Or maybe God will impress a scripture on your heart to share with her….

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.  Ephesians 6:18

Thank you and God bless you all….

Last week Michael and I drove 2 1/2 hours south to Stillwater, Minnesota to do several things. One thing was to have a special templated MRI for my upcoming minimally invasive total knee replacement surgery on June 10th. I laid absolutely still in a huge noisy donut for ten minutes and then the MRI was completed. Since my dear friend Su and I are on this Knee Adventure together, she and her husband Danny also drove down because her MRI appointment was right before mine.

After those appointments the four of us grabbed a quick dinner at Chipotle Mexican Grill, which was delicious. For those who might still say TACK-o for taco, Chipotle is pronounced chi-POTE-lay and not chi-PO-tul. 🙂

Then we checked into our gracious and beautiful bed and breakfast room at The Aurora Staples Inn, where we were warmly greeted at the door by the proprietor, Cathy. Cathy gave us a short tour of this elegant manse, saw us to our rooms, and invited us downstairs to the library where yummy appetizers were waiting for us.

Michael and I stayed in the lovely Giverny Suite, and below is a photo taken from the doorway. Whenever we stay someplace new I like to walk around the place and take in all the details, the views from the windows, the paintings on the walls, the books on the mantel or the magazines on the coffee table, the cleanliness of the bathroom (yes, it’s true). The first order of the day for Michael is to immediately try out the bed and pronounce whether or not it will give us a good night’s sleep. Neither of us were disappointed. There were so many things to appreciate in this inn and in our room, and the bed was great. You can click to enlarge the photos if you like.

Just to the right in the picture above was a corner gas fireplace, and since the weather in Stillwater was not what we expected for May, we enjoyed the warmth of a fire most of the time we were in our room. If you check out the website to the inn and look at the different rooms, you can see The St. Croix Suite, which is where Danny and Su stayed, right across the hall from us.

Here’s a photo of the inn, but you’ll have to picture it in different weather — while we were there it snowed a bit overnight, sleeted and rained, and the wind blew the chill into our bones, so the strolling we had planned for quaint downtown Stillwater was cut short.

Su and I were scheduled to attend a two-hour exercise and informational class from 5:30 – 7:30 that evening, so we all went downstairs to the library for our welcome appetizer before we headed out.

Since we had just eaten an early dinner we weren’t very hungry and I felt bad for wasting Cathy’s efforts for us, but to sit with friends we’ve known and loved for decades and to enjoy this serene and beautifully appointed setting seemed like such a gift.

Spouses were encouraged to attend the class, so Danny and Michael came with us. The room was filled with over-55 folks who were scheduled for either knee or hip surgeries. I was so glad we went, because I learned a lot and felt even more certain about my decision to have this particular surgeon and hospital for my ordeal. Su felt very reassured too. A Physical Therapist and an ortho nurse went through all the details of what we can expect, how we can prepare for surgery, and what recovery will be like.

The contraption in the distance at the right in the photo below is a CPM (Continuous Passive Motion) machine, and when we’re not doing physical therapy, walking up and down the aisles of the hospital (within hours of surgery) and occupational therapy, our legs and knees will be bent and straightened while we’re resting in bed. For a photo of how it looks, click here.

I’ve been doing my exercises and a few of them make my right knee burn like fire, but in this very short time I can actually feel a difference. There’s less pain and more stability, and more range of motion. With such dramatic results, I might have been tempted to just do the exercises for a month and forego the surgery, except for the icky-looking deformity that makes my lower leg splay away from the center now. My valgus angle isn’t as bad as this photo, but this will give you an idea what I’m trying to describe.

Back at the inn, this is a picture of the landing on the second floor right outside our suite. I thought it was so nice that they keep that little corner refrigerator filled with treats for their guests.

The Aurora Staples Inn has handsome woodwork everywhere, and wallpaper that makes a guest feel like they’ve taken a step back in time. Or a thousand steps back in time. This view below was on the landing. Look at the gorgeous inlaid floors too.

Breakfast was at 9:00, so we got to sleep in — yay! Out of habit Michael and I woke very early, but to be able to stay in bed and read by the warmth of our fire was divine. I read a Psalm out loud and we talked about how grateful we are to know the Lord is always with us, how He sustains us, opposes our enemies for us, and draws us to Himself.

When we came down to the dining room our places were set and Cathy served us the most delectable fresh fruit parfaits with yogurt and granola, and then a baked French toast dish with blueberry sauce. I had no room for the petite dessert offered but I’m sure it was a delight to the eyes and the taste buds.

It’s just so nice to be expected, isn’t it? Cathy took every care to make us not only feel welcome, but expected. A Keurig coffee maker with fresh water set up in the parlor, books and games for the borrowing, a generous appetizer, friendly sharing during breakfast, the fridge stocked with treats, a tray with a pot of coffee placed quietly outside our door each morning…we felt tenderly pampered.

Su and I have been friends since 1980. She was the matron of honor when I married Michael, and I was the matron of honor when she married Danny. There’s a peaceful comfort that often comes in friendships that have lasted so long. I never feel like I have to be super perky and well-behaved around Su, because she loves me no matter what. And I think she feels the same kind of ease with me. We have known each other during some very unperky times, and the Lord’s faithfulness to us has been great.

Danny will be Su’s caregiver when her surgery is over and she’s recuperating at home. He’s one of the best men we know.

Michael and I slept later than usual, but I think both of us look permanently ty-ode. Nights can be challenging these days, especially in unfamiliar places.

Su and I have 32 days until our surgeries. Will our hospital rooms be right next to each other? Will we race our walkers down the hall together? Will we text each other about how bad the hospital food is? Will our pain meds make us goofy and foster some giggly memories?

Stay tuned, and I just might share about it here. Exciting stuff, people. 🙂

God bless your weekend, dear friends and family….

“If you cannot find time to pray, ask for forgiveness. Ask to be cleansed of the sin of having no time to pray…

…it could be that Satan is pushing you into too much work so that you cannot take time to pray.”

– Corrie Ten Boom

*         *         *         *         *         *

I just read an article in our local paper about how a small company has opened a Segway tour business in our city. They will offer guided tours on the beautiful miles-long Lakewalk of Lake Superior, which I always say is our treasure. People from all over Minnesota drive to be near Lake Superior, and I’ve never grown tired of living close to it myself.

When you see it in person for the first time it’s staggering how huge it is. Growing up with plenty of opportunities to see the Pacific Ocean, I was speechless when I first laid eyes on Lake Superior in 1981, and gasped to Michael, “What’s that?”  Ahem. It’s a vast body of water, the largest freshwater lake in the world, and it looks like an ocean. And it still takes my breath away 32 years later.

So a chance to have a new experience and ride a Segway near the Lake sounds absolutely fantastic to me. People will have to ride single file and go fairly slow, helmets will be required, and everyone will wear a device that allows them to hear the guide share historical facts about our gorgeous part of the country.

I do like to walk on the Lakewalk near Lake Superior too, but I’ve had this teeny-tiny knee issue for a couple of years now and walking through a grocery store to buy raspberries, corn tortillas, eggs and canned pinto beans is about what I can manage without knashing my teeth.

Hopefully my teeth will shout hallelujah when my knee replacement surgery is over and all my physical therapy is complete and I’ll feel like walking long distances again.

Anyway, after I read about the Segways, I thought about the things I would like to do, but don’t, because of one excuse or another. Some of my excuses are presently legitimate, like the aforementioned knee that makes powder of my bones when I walk long distances. But I’m a fairly adventurous person even if few people would ever suspect this because of my stay-at-home hermit-like tendencies. Even as a little girl I used to plunge into the cold, mighty, thundering Pacific and swim so far out past the waves, when I turned and looked toward the shore the people looked like colored dots.

Here are a few things I would love to do:

Ride a Segway
Cycle long distances
Swim every day
Learn to high dive (I can do front and back flips now)
Water ski
Teach a class
Drive a Sea-doo on our Lake
Zip line through a forest in Alaska
Ride a pleasant, dependable horse
Para-sail
Buy a Vespa and use it for short errands
Be in another book club
Learn to love the taste of raw juices
Skydive from a plane, but only if Jesus Himself told me ahead of time that I would land safely

And conversely, there are a few things I would never want to try, no matter what. They are:

Mountain climbing
Rappelling
Working diligently to acquire a taste for alcohol
Driving a race car
Roller blading
Flying on a trapeze
Smoking
Raising Pit Bull Terriers
Spelunking
Starting a catering business
Scuba diving

So hey, what are some things you would try if you knew the outcome would be just fine?

What are some things you would never be interested in doing, no matter what?

I know that sometime soon I’ll be taking a Segway tour. At least it’s a start….

When I was a sophomore (age 15) at Covina High School in Southern California, one of my classes was Creative Writing with Mrs. Geneva Knutsen. She was a lovely, smiling, stately woman who wore a blonde wig, glided slowly and gracefully around the classroom, and spoke in composed whispers.

I have a notebook from that class that I’ve kept over the years, primarily because it makes me smile. It’s filled with the semester’s assignments, our attempts at sonnets and essays and contemporary poetry.

One day Mrs. Knutsen passed each of us a different picture or illustration clipped from a magazine. Our assignment was to write a poem or story to go with that picture.

Here is the illustration I was given (which I cut in two so I could fit it on one page, along with my typing from our IBM Correcting Selectric), and my poetic attempt that went with it (click to enlarge, and you might be able to click twice to enlarge more):

I have one word: sheesh.

Michael and I will be traveling soon, heading south the the place where I’ll have an MRI on my right knee in preparation for my upcoming surgery.

And guess what? Snow is in tonight’s forecast. It’s May 1st, and it might snow.

Have a wonderful week,