Bathroom Monologue: Sweet Potato Revolution

Sweet potato soup, sweet potato casserole and sweet potato pie. You can get everything sweet potatoes make at the festival, the fourth annum of the revolution. Sweet potato toast in the morning, and sweet potato shakes for the health-conscious. There are sweet potato fries served hot from dawn to dusk, though some sweet potatoes dislike that they're fried in mammal fat. Others decry that as a bit of a hypocrisy and against the spirit of the festival. Most sweet potatoes savor the flavor, and they experiment in realms culinary with their livestock. It's said to be like what Thanksgiving was for humans, though since the revolution it's sweet potatoes that eat humans, and in so many ways.

Neuropathy, a Stroke, and While I'll Be Gone for a While

Wednesday was not the day I bargained for. The neurologist has no theory on why my legs are losing feeling or motion. Her best advice was to stop crossing my legs since that might be damaging circulation - even though the tests she held her in hands said there was no such damage. Even as I went in for the consultation, I joked that this wasn't so bad. There are, in fact, many worse things in the world than losing use of a limb or two.

God didn't think I was sincere enough.

I came home to discover my grandmother had collapsed, gone to emergency and was in hospice care. Was it a stroke or heart attack? Complications from influenza? My sister didn't know, but had heard she was so disoriented that they suspected acute dementia. At 95, anything is serious.

Old friends of mine know that I hate Easter because my grandfather died on it, just a few months before I was born. I'm named for him, which always feels like a crumby legacy this time of year. Now my grandmother might go out on the same holiday.

I'll be gone for a few days. My #fridayflash is already cued, the finale for The Only Thing Worse is the Cure. I had the first three A-to-Z Challenge entries set, too, so daily posting will go on without me, though I may miss the beginning of the blog hop. The composition end is all I can hold up right now. I've got to be there for my family.

May you all have splendid weekends. Remember that it matters less what you haven't done, and matters more what you do for those who remain.

Bathroom Monologue: A Necessary Getaway

He moved north at the first opportunity. Way north. He cut all ties, even to his mother, which was the hardest on him. He was a mama's boy.

His hair went white from all the stress, including his beard. He took that as a sign to change his appearance and began dressing in pants as soon as they were invented. All the sedentary hiding made him gain tremendous weight, face filling out, giving him rosy cheeks in the snowy environment.

He stayed in doors as much as possible, but always came out around his birthday. It was too lonely, even with the elves that had found him and made camps all around his house. They fashioned him thick, orthopedic boots and gloves that comforted his scarred extremities. It allowed him to take up carpentry again.

The gregarious wee folk did so much for his spirits that he reached out to a similar-sized people: children. He still only went south around his birthday, but brought a sack of the toys from his workshop for those boys and girls who had the right attitude. There were always more gifts to give, too, as the elves copied his work and began production for every decent child.

And associating with children turned out to actually help, for in his old life he had been an average-sized Jew, but to them he was a giant. So his new identity was a jolly mammoth with a white beard and a bag of presents. He was safe. No one down there ever guessed that Santa Claus was an alias.

Give Thanks – Will Is Okay!

This is a little touchy-feely, but I’m going with it. As I get older, I’m definitely getting softer, and in the last two years I’ve learned that’s actually quite a pleasant thing.

Today is Thanksgiving in the United States. It’s a holiday with a troubled past, but a good meaning: to remember what you are thankful for.

Well, I have a roof over my head, and it’s warm in my house. We couldn’t always afford heat in the winter, or food. I don’t have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. I do not ever underestimate these things. I am thankful for them every day. For the people who dislike Thanksgiving as something unnecessary – we ought to be more mindful of what we’ve got. But to me, and people like me, having an annual reminder of a virtue is useful.

I’m particularly thankful today because my cousin, Will Corcoran, got his liver transplant. If you haven't read about him before, this kid has been fighting Cystic Fibrosis his entire life and was suddenly confronted with a life-or-death need for an operation. The operation was back in October, and Will had to split it with two other recipients, but he got enough to live. I’d held off announcing it because there were complications, and “too soon” is seldom a good time for celebration. But now it’s been over a month, he’s had regular check-ups, and is healthy enough that tomorrow he’ll attend my family’s big get-together. It’ll be the first time I’ve been able to see him in years. More important than that, he has years to come.

 

It’s worth being thankful for.

What are you thankful for this year, friends and fellow humans?