Who Knew?

When I was first invited to a “Cookie Exchange” during the holiday season I was curious and it sounded like a great idea. Little did I know the event would leave me traumatized? Who knew there were rules? Just “google” Cookie Exchange rules if you do not believe me. The first rule said “pick your theme and set your ground rules”. Rules like how many cookies to bake, no store bought items, bring an ornament to exchange etc.

Baking has not always come easy to me. I fancy myself a cook, “a little of this, a little of that” so following a recipe exactly is a challenge. Six dozen cookies were the requirement. It took me forever, Fred even stepped in to help me. Finally, cookies wrapped, I ventured out.

The first thing that signaled I was way out of my realm was the hostess face when she saw my cookies on a paper plate. She put them on the festive table where others had little bags with ribbons, or colorful boxes. Their recipes were tiny scrolls on green or red paper. Some were typed on little holiday cards. Mine were hand written on an index card OOPs.

Another rule broken, sorry, no one told me to bring a large container to take home my goodies so the hostess had to give me a brown bag. It was all just too much and on the ride home I vowed no more exchanges ever.

But I have decided to break that vow. This year I will host a no rule cookie exchange.
Bring whatever and however many cookies you want. I do not care if they are last year’s girl-scout cookies. Your choice if you want to share the recipe. No fancy plates, boxes or ribbons required. Let’s just live, laugh and love.

Wooooooo Who!!!!!!

It is the little things that make you happy. These past two months I have been disabled with the use of only one hand. I did not know how many things that you need both hands; things like getting dressed, driving, lifting a pot of water, curling your hair, shaving under your arms, putting on deodorant and typing.

Today, I am typing with both hands. Yea. It is the first time I have written my blog since September. My hand injury really messed me up. This week I was given back some of my life but the single biggest monumental gift was it is Ok to drive.

I swear it was the exact same feeling I had the day I got my driver’s license and my dad took me to pick up my 1969 Cougar. You remember the day you got your drivers license and you were FREE... that feeling. Woooo who!!!!!

Driving to work with my car that was loaded with crap like trees, ornaments, and Christmas marionettes was like riding with the radio blasting and windows down in the 60's. It was easy to figure out my dismay these past months was a control issue. Waiting on a driver or leaving school before I was ready to go home was out of my control. Not driving was the first domino in my pity party.

After only two days I can see a light at the end of this tunnel. When I am at home I am allowed to take off the splint, this is why I can finally type. Evaluating and learning from this injury and my experience has been life giving. God tells us to slow down or else. I have learned to do on line banking, bill paying, and purchase items on line out of necessity. I have come to appreciate every little thing from brushing my teeth to shaving under my arms.

I no longer have the luxury of talking on phone on my trip home because I need my right hand for driving. I miss this but know it is imperative I am extra careful on the road.

There is much to be thankful for like my trip to see my grand kids and the fact I saw Jaime’s new baby Parker before I fell. My grandson calls me “Grammystein” after Frankenstein because of my long scar on my wrist. The name might even stick as he got a kick out of my new name all weekend.

But the real hero is Fred. He has taken me to doctors, dressed me, washed my clothes, cooked, shopped and listened to me whine and moan. He is going to take a trip north without me this weekend. He deserves the quiet sans Laurie.