kill the beast...

... or: things I've (re-)learned about URIs this week

1.  If an enormous yellow cloud of pollen literally envelops you while you are simply minding your own business, drop everything and head for the nearest shower.

2.  While you're at it, rinse out those sinuses really, really well.

3.  If you have one of those afternoons where you lock your keys in the car, can't find an open restroom, and then drop your phone in the sink, all within an hour, consider locking yourself inside until the storm passes honey, 'cause it's comin'.

4.  Use every trick in the book.  Even if it might not help.  Rinse, spray, inhale, vaporize, decongest, and anti-inflame until you drop.  

5.  When you drop, go to bed, and stay there.

6.  When you wake up with one side of your sinuses completely blocked, and your face is grotesquely misshapen and one eye is nearly shut, don't panic.  Not yet, anyway.

7.   When your sinus cavities are filled with cement and nothing will move it, call the doctor, because all bets are off for home remedies, and you are doomed. 

8.  At some point, take your temperature because everyone you talk to will ask if you have a fever.

9.  When you go to see the doctor, be polite.  It's not her fault you're sick.  Try to sound intelligent (because you are) without being dismissive (because that doesn't help).  Be specific and descriptive of the things you've tried so she knows you know what you're talking about.  If she doesn't respect that and enter into an intelligent conversation with you, go talk to someone else.

10.  When the medical treatment is having no effect, and it's Friday, and you're actually getting worse, call the doctor.  Don't take no for an answer, and don't take "you need to come in again" for an answer, either.  Hold out, and they will eventually give you what you need.

11.  Keep lots of liquids in the house.  Herbal tea is a nice break.  Just keep drinking.

12.  It's fun to make fun of yourself when speaking to other singers, because your voice is at least an octave lower than usual.

13.  Laughing will always make you cough, so just be ready.

14.  It pays to spring for the softest kleenex possible, and get it by the case at Costco, because it is not in the least bit difficult to go through three full boxes in as many days.

15.  Even if you don't feel like cooking, get into that kitchen and make some Chinese penicillin.  It's nothing fancy, but you will be so glad you did.  Even if you'd rather stay curled up on the couch, all bundled up and cozy, get off your arse and make it. Now.

Hot and Sour Soup, KQ-style

4-6 cups (a fairly large pot) water

3 chicken bouillon cubes, or about 1 per cup-and-a-half of water

1-2 tsp white pepper

¼ cup white vinegar

3 cloves garlic, minced (I use the Trader Joe's frozen garlic cubes)

1 tsp minced cilantro, to taste (TJ's has frozen cubes for this, too)

fresh sliced mushrooms, to taste

fresh sliced green onion, to taste

frozen dumplings (again, TJ's to the rescue!)

sesame oil

yeah, I'm out of fresh veg.  they turned while I wasn't looking.

Boil water.  Add bouillon and pepper.  Cook for a minute or two.  Add vinegar, garlic, cilantro and veggies.  Simmer for 5 minutes, adjust to taste (but remember that the broth should be REALLY spicy and vinegary, so don't go erring on the too-gentle side.)  Add the dumplings, bring to a boil and cook for 2 minutes more.  Drizzle with oil, to taste.  Be well.

the Summer of twenty-ten (part IV)

September 9 - one month ago

I was home, my day off. I'd been running around all day, buying flowers and supplies for the wedding (more on that later), getting the flowers cooled and in buckets, etc. I was in my apartment when there came an immediately identifiable sound: jet engine, very close. Weird, I thought in that split second, that it keeps coming. While nearby, they don't usually fly right over this area - especially on a sunny day. And then the sound did not get quieter, nor louder, and then a BOOM. Running to the window, I looked northwest in the direction of the sound. Above the roofline of the adjacent building I saw the column of smoke.

I ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, bare feet, no keys. I wanted to get to where I could see better. Well, the view was no better from 3 floors down on the sidewalk than it was in my apartment, but I could tell better where it was. Clearly, it was part of my neighborhood, not in my section, but on the other side of San Bruno Ave.

(click to enlarge)
'A' is where the blast happened; 'B' is my street.
this also encompasses my parents' home (near the oval track
in the SE corner) and my church (just SW of 'B')

The next hour or so are a blur. Neighbors who came outside the same time as me let me back into the building. I turned on the t.v. - and was frustrated initially that there was nothing there, just the evening news. I called Mom and Dad - they were fine, and had an excellent view of the smoke and fire. Dad was sure it was not an airplane - the theory I was going on - but a gas line. (How right he was.) I called T. to tell him that San Bruno was going to be on the news, what I knew, and that I was safe. All this time, and for about 2 hours, the roar of the "jet engine" did not cease.

Finally, the news of the explosion came on - reporting a possible plane crash (per local reports, based on the sound we all heard) or maybe a gas station explosion. They showed some initial photos... just smoke, no perspective or landmarks. And then there was an aerial shot, panning from Lunardi's and the [intact] gas station, across San Bruno Ave, and down Glenview... to Claremont... where my friends the Bullis family were.
No.
No, no, no, oh no.

Will, Sue, Janine and Greg, at Janine's college graduation, June 2009

Will, with his dad Greg looking on, in 2006 at Bethany's 50th anniversary

I posted on facebook that we were safe some time before the power went out. With no lights, I decided I wanted to be with my parents - just in case. From their elevation, I could indeed see the fire. I stood on the hill behind their house and watched - I don't know for how long. I saw the airplanes come in, bombing the fire with retardant, over and over again, for at least an hour. I prayed. And I hoped that Lavonne, Sue, Greg and Will were somewhere, anywhere else at that hour.

Lavonne at one of our 1st Saturday dinners

Mom & Dad's phone kept ringing, and several of the calls were robo-calls from the sheriff's department, announcing a voluntary evacuation for all within ¾ of a mile of the explosion. They decided that they would stay in place - and I'd decided that I was sticking with them for the duration. Calls from my sister, reassuring her that I'd take care of the folks if need be, making sure that her father-in-law had someone with him. Checked on my friend Anne, who lives very near, but above, the blast. Called my kids, who had not yet heard of the explosion. I told A., "just look up; you can see the smoke from anywhere you are right now". I went home to pack a bag, finding 4 voice mails: 2 from the sheriff, one from a dear friend from the Woods, one from a reporter for the Examiner. We had take-out dinner. I did not take any photos. I did not sleep well in my old bedroom.

Next morning we learned that Sue was safe. She was at work in a late meeting. A search was on for the others. I think we all knew that they were no longer on Earth, but still we waited for official word. It did not come for nearly a week. Sunday, we all gathered for church. It was packed. It was surreal. It was comforting. It was agonizing. It was sacred. It was so, so beautiful to all be together, even in our grief.

Will and Janine, with friend Michelle (R), at a chilly beach party for First Saturday

Lavonne (R) with friends K. and B. at that same beach party.
I didn't realize until I went searching for these photos:
Lavonne joined in the fun for MANY of our 1st Saturday events!

(It was not unexpected that there might be unfamiliar faces among us in worship, but it turned out that three of those were members of the press. They were quite persistent - inappropriately so. The invasion of the neighborhood by helicopters and small aircraft would be so relentless that I found myself raging at them over those first several days - a sign of some PTSD on my part.)

my roofline and one of the ever-present choppers

Next: a blessed union, a blessed distraction.

gratitude, day 9

Gratuitous photo to take up space in the blog
and make it appear more appealing (if not more interesting to read.)
Look at how weathered those prayer flags look!
And the tree! How golden!
This photo has nothing at all to do with the contents of this blog post.

Today was more of an adventure (in a small way) than I bargained for. Remember that day when n-o-t-h-i-n-g was scheduled or required? Ha. Ha ha ha.

After quite a long and joyful evening last night, I stayed up (again) way too late for no good reason other than I wasn't sleepy. (Blog post on day 8 will be up soon, I hope.) Six hours later, my alarm went off and I was up. Fixed a mocha, sat and checked out Post Secret and a few other things, and then got dressed for church.

Arrived an hour early, and I wasn't sure if there would be enough time to take care of what I needed to do: arrange the flowers (sunflowers, orange dahlias, muddy red-green hydrangea, and this weird stuff with red blossoms - it looked autumnal) for Andy's birthday, take off the apron and "finish" my outfit, do a mic check and read through today's readings for the lectionary all before 10:00. Well, either I am getting faster, or time was moving really slowly, because I got those flowers done by 9:25! I had plenty of time... phew!

After church, I took Mom home and we discussed the menu for Thursday. I am cooking a lot: sweet potatoes, a zucchini appetizer, and spinach salad. (The distribution of labor in a pot luck with only 5 people, two of whom are my kids, and another my father leaves not-so-much distribution after all.) I'm looking forward to it, actually. I'm really enjoying cooking these days.

I planned to take a nap, then didn't. Got busy on the computer and listening to a new CD (Yo Yo Ma & Friends Songs of Joy & Peace - wonderful! FIVE renditions of Dona Nobis Pacem!) forgot to have lunch, and once refueled, returned to the kitchen to make that green veggie chili. It turned out quite nicely, I think - will give it a day or so to mellow out. So much slicing and chopping and dicing! Onions, garlic, three kinds of peppers....

Okay, the peppers. There was a yellow bell, and two others. I forgot that I bought not two, but just one anaheim pepper, and the other was a poblano. They both looked the same. Well, they weren't the same, and I realized this just after I tasted a bit of that poblano. HOT. And then, of course, I also realized my mistake: no gloves when I chopped that sucker up. I shrugged it off - nothing hurt - and commenced with the chopping: zucchini, eggplant, green onion, cilantro. Figured (after I tasted that pepper) that (since nothing hurt) I'd clean off the cutting board after everything was chopped up. Mistake numero dos.

By the time the rest of the stuff was in the pot, my fingers were kind of burning just a bit. And then, suddenly, they were burning quite a lot. Okay, so wash the hands. Which made it worse. Well, I was a girl scout, I knew what to do. I poured a small glass of milk and put my fingers in it. (Lactose acid kills capsicum, supposedly.) Well, it still burned, and I was not expecting that. So I got on line again, one hand still in the milk, to ask facebook for help and to read about home remedies: rubbing alcohol (topical), vodka (internal?), baking soda, vegetable oil, bleach, you-name-it. I tried the baking soda (no difference, but I just dissolved it in milk), oil (maybe this helped?) and then just went back to milk. Three hours later, the chili was cooked and my hand was feeling less so.

My, this is turning into a long (and quite parenthetically heavy) post. With no pictorial evidence.

Another gratuitous photo to take up space in the blog
and make it appear more appealing (if not more interesting to read.)
No ladybugs were harmed in the writing of this post.
All rights reserved, except in places where they aren't reserved, your offer may vary.

Suffice to say: I've been fed - physically, musically, spiritually and socially - and will continue to be so for the foreseeable future.

And for that, I am truly grateful.