My St. Louis Holiday, Part V (Christmas Day)

 I did virtually all of my Christmas shopping online this year.  That meant I had to be alert to deliveries beyond my control.. because I worry about porch pirates and mail thieves, but everything came through as planned.  I wrapped virtually ONE present, and that one only by default.  But Santa was good!

Shari, Jim, and I spent a fairly quiet morning opening all of the boxes under the tree, and so many boxes there were!  One big one came from the PNW and was sent by my daughter and family.  Oh, the yummies in the smaller boxes inside that big one!  There were tons of Seattle Chocolates (a personal favorite of mine); cookies from one local PNW source; cheese crackers from another; a jar of fruit jam and a jar of Sweet Onion Mustard; and three boxes of different kinds of smoked salmon indigenous to the Seattle area.  All were delicious.  Still are!

 Along about 2 PM, I got a Merry Christmas call from my family from Washington State, and then we were off to Jim's daughter's for Christmas dinner somewhat nearby.

Laura and Steve were lovely hosts, along with their college-aged children home for the holidays.  We ate well--grilled beef tenderloin roast, scalloped potatoes, a Caesar-type salad, a jello fruit salad, and dessert.  (The dessert came from us.  We made pecan tassies and brought a Monrovia Bulldog Brigade Band variety cheesecake from Indiana.  Bet the band doesn't even know how far their cheesecake influence goes!) 

Jim wasn't feeling all that chipper, so we didn't stay long after dinner.  Still, it was a pleasant day for all (I hope).

Happy Birthday, Jesus!  

My St. Louis Holiday, Part IV (Unwelcome Experiences)

Into each life, some rain must fall.

I came to my sister's on Tuesday, Nov. 22nd.  Thursday was Thanksgiving.   On Friday, the word came that my brother-in-law's brother-in-law--his twin sister's husband--had passed away from lung cancer.  He had just been put in hospice and wasn't expected to live long.  He didn't.  The man's final wishes were to have a very private funeral with only immediate family attending.  Jim was encouraged by his sister not to come.  Jim wouldn't be dissuaded.  The rest of us who would not attend convinced Jim to take the trip to Lafayette, IN, and back in two days rather than one.  It was sad but expected.

 More recently...Saturday, Dec. 11th...I fell.  I was wearing slippers on a slippery floor.  (Maybe that's why they're called "slippers"?)  It happened so fast, I can't even say what happened.  I careened off of several surfaces trying to catch myself, but down I went.  Nothing broken except my dignity--and the handle on a laundry basket.

The really embarrassing part of it all was that I was on the floor and could NOT get up on my own.  Three of us struggled and struggled to try to get me up, with little success.  Finally--FINALLY--I was able to get on my knees and Jim could slide a library stool under my behind.  From there, I could somewhat easily get to a chair.  Hallelujah!  I'm finding bruises a couple of days later...  This gives new meaning of the advertisement that starts with some old lady on the floor calling Life Alert:  "I've fallen, and I can't get up!"  I found a few bumps and bruises but nothing was broken except the handle on that basket that was, unfortunately, in the path of the fallen on her way down.

The very next day, Sunday, Dec. 12th, I got up in time for Shari to say that Jim was sick.  He had somewhat fallen in the bedroom and was complaining of dizziness and a fuzzy brain.  With help, he managed to get down the stairs to the living room to his recliner.  Not too long later, he decided he wanted to use the bathroom, but when he got up--with help--he floundered and fell in the middle of the room.  As with me, we had trouble getting him up.  When it finally happened, we got him plunked back down in the recliner and declared that he would be staying there until Shari decided she was going to call the paramedics to get him checked out (against his protestations).

The ambulance arrived mere minutes after Shari got off the phone.  They took his "vitals" and found nothing alarming, but they seemed to notice some weakness on his left side so decided to transport him to the hospital to determine why he was falling.  Shari followed right behind.  Diagnosis: stroke!  Jim had a small blood clot on his brain which was sucked out with tube snaked up through vessels in his groin--done quickly enough that the clot hadn't been there long enough to do much damage.  Jim was released to come home on that Tuesday afternoon with NO orders for physical therapy or anything else by way of follow-up.   He was prescribed an adult aspirin as a blood thinner, and was wearing a heart monitor to check for A-fib.  One and done!

On Thursday, Dec. 16th, "we" began having trouble with the heart monitor.  Shari had gone to a doctor appointment that had already been postponed once, so Jim and I were holding down the fort.  The heart monitor said it needed to be recharged.  The phone that goes with the monitor was beeping incessantly.  Jim didn't have a clue how to charge it.  I was TRYING to help but he was getting irritated by the beeping.  Although I got the sensor in the charge unit, the phone kept beeping...and he kept yelling at it to shut up!  He called on the phone for support, but he and the poor gal on the other end of the line weren't communicating, and the monitor came OFF.

While Jim had his t-shirt pulled up, I noticed a slight rash on his belly.  I mentioned it to Shari when she came home, but she said it was just how his sensitive skin is.  A day or two later, he had a roaring, itchy, angry rash over most of his torso, front and back...and was miserable.  There were calls to the doctor who decided that it was the aspirin that was causing the rash and decided to send a prescription for Plavix, instead.  Slowly, slowly, over the course of a week, the rash got better (with the help of a lot of Benadryl and Hydrocortisone creams.)    We're still waiting on the Plavix.  (Don't get me started!!)

And then came the ankle.  At first, Jim thought he had somehow strained his Achilles tendon.  By the next day, it was his whole foot, without explanations.  We started icing, elevating, and using anti-inflammatories....plus yet another call to the doctor.  As of today, Dec. 28th, both the foot and rash are much better. 

 And in between, there was Christmas.  Next entry.  Whew!

My St. Louis Holiday, Part III (The Party)

 My sister was born on THE Pearl Harbor Day--the day that the Empire of Japan bombed the US Navy fleet and other military installations at Pearl Harbor in Honolulu, Hawaii.  December 7, 1941.  Thus, Tuesday of last week was her 80th birthday.  While 80 years may seem ancient to some, Shari neither looks nor acts that old.  I envy her youthful appearance!

On December 4th (Saturday) of last week, Shari's daughters in the Springfield, IL, area threw a birthday party for her there at the Route 66 Motel, complete with separate rooms for us to stay the night.  We drove the two hours to Springfield cool day with no problems.   The party took place in a conference room.  While there were some old and faithful friends there, the attendees were mostly family--children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren along with some Significant Others and spouses.  It was refreshing to have everyone together in one place for a happy occasion rather than a funeral for once!

The party room was decorated with birthday bling.  There was a cash bar for those who imbibe.  There were finger foods:  veggie trays with dips, sub sandwiches with all the fixings, home made cookies (including home made coconut macaroons), brownies, and (of course) birthday cake.  The party only took up half the room.  The other half was wide-open space which, as might be guessed, turned into a romper room when the great-grandchildren got bored.  There were cartwheels, splits, a game of duck- duck-goose, and lots of noise and commotion.  (Fortunately, this occurred very late in the party so it wasn't obnoxious.  Only family left by this time.)  As the old Society Gossip pages used to say, a good time was had by all.

The motel is called the Route 66.  It's under major remodeling.  I think people actually live there.  They had displays of vintage Coca Cola machines and other 50s memorabilia.  Our rooms were provided gratis because my sister's eldest daughter knows the motel owners.  My sis/bro-in-law's room was a double--one half was bed and TV; the other half was a bar and a jacuzzi.  Needless to say, the old folks didn't bring bathing suits, and the water just didn't get warm enough to want to go in au naturel.  I had my own room--handicapped accessible.  There was no seat in the shower.  I probably could have asked for one but decided not to shower.   It did have a high toilet seat, just like the new one I have at home.  The only thing I really missed was that the room did not include a tissue dispenser.  I need my tissues!! 

We were on the road back to Missouri by 9:00 AM, in the rain.  We brought home a ton of leftover sweet things--cakes, brownies, cookies.  We moved on from there.  We'd had a great time!

    

My St. Louis Holiday Trip, Part II (Thanksgiving)

 I arrived in Ballwin, MO, on November 22nd, Tuesday.  Thanksgiving was the 25th, Thursday.  I hardly had a chance to settle in before the cooking began on the 24th, Wednesday.  We were preparing all of the traditional American dishes plus a few from our own family traditions--a veritable feast of fat.  It was a full day!  

On Thanksgiving Day, the turkey went in the oven (American tradition), and the hors d'oeuvres came out of the refrigerator (family tradition).  We grazed as we cooked and drank and waited for our guests to arrive.  The place was hopping!

My sister (Shari) and brother-in-law (Jim) have a townhome which is much smaller than either of their homes prior to marriage (May of 2020).  They pared down when they married.  The problem with that is that they were combining two well-established households of HER stuff and HIS stuff, and crammed it all into a smaller space.  Just the three of us bouncing around sometimes get in each other's way.  Add five more people to the mix--three of them young children--and you get a chaotic dough of half-baked edibles.  <---(That's a metaphor that doesn't work.  Sorry!)  Our Thanksgiving guests were Shari's grandson Jeremy, wife Amanda, and their three kids, 14, 7, and 2.  They arrived about noon and filled up our senses!  <---  (That's a John Denver metaphor that also doesn't work!)

Jeremy is a soldier in the Army Reserves who came home from a year's deployment to Poland a year ago just prior to Thanksgiving.  I hadn't seen him since then, so he had pictures and stories to share, and I was an interested listener.  Most interesting was his unguided tour of Auschwitz with some of his Army buddies.  The experience moved him, and moved ME, in our conversation.  It was nice to see that crew again!

When it came time to give the blessing before the feast, Jeremy was elected by default.  He read from the cross stitch on the wall that I worked years ago:  Popo's Grace.  Popo was our grandfather who gave the same grace every time.  It was a nice touch.  

We ate well, as you might suspect:  turkey, stuffing/dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, candied sweet potatoes, corn bread casserole, green beans, cranberries, mandarin orange Jello "salad", rolls, pickled beets and bread-and-butter pickles, deviled eggs, and pumpkin pie/chocolate silk pie/coconut cream pie for dessert, with cheesecake in reserve.  In other words, we didn't have to send out for pizza!

I missed my own family, of course, but it was nice to break bread with my extended family.  God bless us, everyone!

My St. Louis Holiday Visit, Part I (Getting There)

In Y2K20 <----that's code for the year 2020, also known as the year of the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic.  The winter holidays in the U.S., Thanksgiving and Christmas, which are both extremely family-oriented were a wash for me.  I couldn't go to Washington State to be with my family, and they couldn't come to be with me.  I had my Thanksgiving feast in a food trade with my co-grandparent friends.  They gave me Boardwalk and I sent them Park Place, but we never got to break bread together.  Christmas was the same, except that I sat and blubbered in my aloneness because it was the first time since the birth of my child that we weren't together for the celebration of Jesus' birth.  It killed me.  I looked to Y2K21 for another chance, if I survived the pandemic.  Surely the worst would be over by then?  Yeah...not so much.

2021 hasn't proved to be much better, holiday-wise.  Although we have all been vaccinated and many travel restrictions have been lifted, COVID-19--the virus of the century (so far)--is still with us, with new variants that make safety unlikely.  While it is possible to fly now, my daughter's place in Washington is still under construction and they wouldn't have a place for me at Thanksgiving, and even Christmas was iffy.  I decided to take advantage of my sister and brother-in-law's standing invitation to be with them in Ballwin, Missouri, near St. Louis, for both holidays.  I hadn't seen their new home yet.  I decided to drive the distance myself--a little over four hours or so.  Packing and preparing to be gone that long was a nightmare.  I just didn't want to subject others to having to drive to Indiana just to pick me and my "stuff" up.  I wanted to be off the road by dark and miss as much St. Louis traffic as possible.  Thus, with brother-in-law's directions, I headed out.  Here is what I wrote on Facebook after arrival:

I made it safely to my sister's in Ballwin, MO, on Tuesday, but not before my senility kicked in. Ballwin is just outside of St. Louis. Thus, I got on I-70 in Plainfield, Indiana, and headed west, then eventually got on I-270, per my bro-in-law's directions. Was supposed to go about 40 miles or so on 270, then get off on Exit 9 (Manchester)...which I did...but it wasn't 40 miles, and the exit didn't say Manchester. And a couple of routes split up just past the exit, and I no longer knew where I was or what I was supposed to do. It just didn't look as I expected. I should be really close to St. Louis, but the signs made it look like what I was close to was Southern Illinois University. I pulled off the road and called my bro-in-law.

After a few seconds of explanations, he figured things out. "You haven't crossed the Mississippi River yet, Peg. You're still in Illinois!"

It was a DUH moment for me. I've been to/through St. Louis before. I KNOW you have to go over the Mississippi before you are actually in Missouri, but somehow, it didn't click. Who knew that I-270 west would have an exit 9 in Illinois and again in Missouri? I felt like an idiot!

I backtracked, got back on the interstate, drove the 40 miles to the OTHER exit 9, and eventually found my way, but geez.....

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the travel story. My directions said that Manchester Road would have 15 stoplights to go through before I would turn off. I was given landmarks to look for before the turn that had to be made to the left. What I didn't know was that Manchester is a main artery that is heavily traveled with lots of shopping centers and businesses on both sides of the road. Traffic was slow and bumper-to-bumper. I had to keep an eye on the traffic to prevent a fender-bender from inattention, so I only occasionally looked for the landmarks. I had lost count of the traffic signals after four or five. Finally--FINALLY--I noticed a significant landmark and the tiny little sign for Old Ballwin Road that only went to the left and had no stoplight. Whew! According to my directions, I was in the right neighborhood, just a street or two away from my sister's. And then the new landmarks didn't happen for me. It occurred to me that I was driving far longer than I should, so I pulled over into the parking lot of a red brick building that said, "Msgr. Buccheit Parish Hall" on it. Aha! A church! Surely my bro-in-law would know where it is and could guide me to their house. So, I called.

Bro-in-law Jim seemed not to know where I was! I stepped out of my car to check the street sign to give him cross streets. One was New Ballwin Road, and the other was provided to me by a young mother who was walking to her car from the building: Dennison. When I told Jim the cross streets, suddenly he said, "I know where you are!" He then came to find me and lead me back to their house maybe half a mile away. At last! And why did Jim not recognize the name of the church where I landed? Apparently, the name of the church is Holy Infant Catholic Church. The name of parish hall is not as well known. Such is my luck!

The only other problem I encountered during the trip was that the sun was in my eyes the whole way. At this point in the season, the sun stays in the south. It came streaming through the driver's side window. Moving the visor over worked for awhile until the sun got even lower in the sky. What it meant about my driving was that the sun was behind all of the road signs, putting them in silhouette and impossible to read until I was right on top of them with little time to change lanes if required. Argh!

Now that I've made the trip once, it won't be so difficult next time. (I hope!) Here's to 2022!