Counting My Blessings of White Christmas

24 Saturday Dec 2011

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I was single, in my twenties and living in Northern California and I wasn’t going home for the holidays. I loved staying in California with my close single girlfriends who were also not going home for the holidays because I had a tradition of our own. We’d go to dinner Christmas Eve and then see It’s a Wonderful Life that was playing at the Stanford Theatre and the following day we’d open presents together.

We were our own family of sorts and we felt a bit like misfits in our own immediate families. We come from a culture where you marry in your early twenties and all of us, well, we sort of missed that boat.

I was also pretty poor. Not living-in-a-box-on-the-streets-of-San Francisco poor, but the Bay Area is not a cheap place to live and my disposable income was always pretty tight, so it wasn’t a priority to buy that airline ticket back home for the holidays.

As the holidays were nearing I was at Costco buying what I’m sure was just one thing (as opposed to a pallet of something like most normal people get at Costco) and I was browsing the book and video tables when I discovered this:

White Christmas box set

A box-set of the movie, White Christmas, which included the VHS, a movie script (yes! the movie script!), and a glossy black and white photo of the cast.

Boy did I want that.

But it was over $30 and I didn’t have $30 to spend on it.

When Christmas arrived my girlfriends and I gathered together in our pajamas after we finished breakfast and we began sharing stories of how our parents seemed to always miss the mark with Christmas presents when we were growing up. Jill told about how all she ever wanted one Christmas was a coat and she got a night gown. Cami had a similar story. And Amber, who has unique taste in really cool things talked about how her family would buy her bizarre things because they thought really bizarre meant really cool. My story was about when I was in junior high and all I wanted was a pair of designer jeans. Everyone had them and I knew that if I had those jeans it would make me so cool and everyone would like me. (Because that’s exactly how fashion works.)

I didn’t get the jeans. Instead, my mom got my sister and I each a Norelco battery-operated manicure / facial kit that had all these attachments to buff and polish your nails as well as attachments to buff and polish your face. It apparently was the equivalent to a man getting a Craftsman tool kit but for female grooming.

norelco

Here’s an example of the lovely Norelco kit that was sold on eBay. Love the avocado green faux velvety casing.

At 13 I really didn’t know much or even care much about grooming. I was going through puberty and a battery-powered grooming kit wasn’t going to solve my problems. Jeans would, though.

We laughed over our stories and marveled at how there seemed to be a common thread about parents missing the mark. We were acting as though we were picked on.

When it came time to open the presents my parents had mailed me I once again felt like they missed the mark. Earlier that month my mom had asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I said, “I need muffin tins. You know, just regular muffin tins.”

I got muffin tins, but they weren’t regular ones. Instead, I got mini muffin tins that make miniature muffins and jumbo muffin tins that make those gigantic muffins. Not what I had asked for.

“You see,” I said to my girl friends. “Why can’t someone give me something I actually asked for?”

Then it was time for the gifts we bought each other–the gifts between girl friends. Amber and Jill both gave me a present they bought for me. When I took off the wrapping paper I saw it. It was the White Christmas boxed set. I looked at it. Then I looked up at both of them. I think it was Amber who said, “We knew you really wanted it.”

White Christmas box set with VHS tape, movie script and B&W glossy pho

And then something happened that had never happened before: My eyes welled up with tears. And I started crying. Amber and Jill looked at each other and then they both looked at me, waiting for me to say something. (Later Jill told me, “We didn’t know what to think. Is she sad? Upset over this? It was a weird reaction.”)

I almost couldn’t talk. I never cry, but I had never wanted something so bad and actually received it. And I was so moved that my two best friends picked up on my desire for White Christmas that they actually gave it to me.

But it would be a tragedy if I ended the story there. Looking back as I write this, I’m cringing at my immaturity and selfishness in the moment that preceded the White Christmas meltdown—the attitude toward my parents who were really trying to get me to think bigger than my wishes and requests. I not only still have the White Christmas boxed set, but I still have those muffin tins and I’ve used them many times. And that Norelco battery operated grooming kit? I’ve thought several times over the past couple of decades that I’d love to have that kit. All along I was thinking that I knew exactly what I needed but I didn’t have the maturity or understanding to look beyond the jeans or the regular muffin tins that I thought I wanted.

The irony in all this is that my favorite song from the movie is the Irving Berlin song, Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep

When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

Behold: The Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert

18 Sunday Dec 2011

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I admit it. I’m shamelessly in love with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. So much that I’m this close (I’m holding my thumb and index finger together with only a cm of space in between) to having a restraining order slapped on me.

MoTab. Growing up my mom had the whole catalog of the choir’s LPs and cassettes and she played them all the time. So when I hear the choir sing, Climb Every Mountain or The Impossible Dream, I’m walking down memory lane and feeling the warmth pumpkin pie and mac and cheese give me. And though they’ve had a following for decades, it wasn’t until the turn of this last century that the choir raised to new heights of talent and repertoire thanks to conductors Craig Jessop and the world-renowned composer and arranger Mack Wilberg. (See Betelehemu) Total stalk-worthy, in my opinion.

When I moved to Utah from Northern California I immediately sought out tickets to MoTab concerts. I figured since I didn’t live in the San Francisco Bay Area any longer, the MoTab was my best chance at any type of high-culture. But tickets to their concerts weren’t easy to get. Mostly because they give them out for free which just frosts me. My first concert in 1996 required people to mail–yes mail–a self-addressed stamped envelope to the choir office to request a limit of 4 tickets. Piece of cake. I sent my envelope in and easily got my tickets. It was a lovely concert in the famous Tabernacle. Then the choir asked people to just show up at a ticket office and get their tickets. The concert grew in popularity and people queued up early. I’d be there by 4:30 in the morning to stand in line for a ticket distribution that wouldn’t begin until 10:00 a.m. But I always got tickets and always had decent seats.

Eventually, they did away with my favorite method of getting the tickets in person and made us all participate in a lottery system, which put me in a position of not having control of getting tickets. I hate not having control over anything. The thing is, the choir considers the concerts (which they repeat over the course of three nights and a Sunday morning) their gift to the community, so they say they won’t ever charge for the tickets. I say they should charge. But that’s just me. Or maybe not just me? Whatever.

So, last year while I was convalescing I watched all the DVDs of the past concerts I attended since 2001 (the concerts that were recorded for PBS and made available on DVD once they moved it to the LDS Conference Center). The years prior don’t really count as they don’t have near the production value as the ones beginning in 2001. So, I went down memory lane and some of the less popular ones turned out to be my favorites. Here’s my review

The legendary Angela Lansbury

2001: The Joy of Christmas. Angela Lansbury. This concert was crazy good! It was the December following the 9/11 attacks and boy did we need this. I had awesome seats–I mean, I was something like fourth row. Favorites from this night included “We Need a Little Christmas,” and the Beauty and the Beast song Angela Lansbury sang in the film. A little known fact: Ms Lansbury was so moved by the invitation by the choir and the opportunity to do something to help everyone heal from the tragedy of 9/11 that she did not charge her fee for her performance. Classy lady!

Walter Cronkite

2002: Silent Night, Holy Night, Walter Cronkite. This is one of my favorites and a huge surprise. Walter Cronkite narrated The Christmas Truce story that took place during World War 1. It is a moving story backed up with music from the choir. The best part of the DVD is the back story you hear about from music conductor Craig Jessop during an interview. There are a lot of serendipitous moments that took place in producing this concert. And that’s the way it was.

Frederica Von Stade and Bryn Terfel

2003: Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Frederica von Stade and Bryn Terfel. When I viewed this concert again last year I forgot how wonderful it was and is one of my favorites. There is so much packed into it. Flicka’s orange frock is a still a mystery to me, but once she began singing I forgot all about her little chiffon number. Bryn Terfel–holy cow! What a baritone! Both were charismatic, charming together and looked like they were kids in a candy store as they sang with the choir. And it had everything: bagpipes, steel drums, a fog machine spewing fog around the orchestra, and there was actually snow (fake, natch) in the conference center during the yuletide medley. If you like classical musicians (which I do), you would love this concert.

Audra MacDonald

2004: Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Audra MacDonald and Peter Graves. Broadway star Audra MacDonald sang and Peter Graves narrated. I love any and every concert of the choir and it’s guests, but I have my favorites. This isn’t one of them, though Audra MacDonald’s voice is full bodied and flawless. On this DVD you’ll find the choir’s performance of the Nigerian carol, Betelehemu, which is a must-see for pretty much anyone. (it also was performed at the previous year’s concert.) It will freaking knock your socks off. This ain’t your momma’s choir anymore.

La Fleming

2005: Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Renee Fleming and Claire Bloom. I about wet my pants when I found out that Renee Fleming was the guest soloist for the 2005 concert. Just two years prior I saw her in La Traviata at the NY Metropolitan Opera from about as far away from the stage as you can get and here she was singing with my choir! (Yes, it’s my choir since I’m it’s #1 stalker.) Claire Bloom was a lovely narrator and La Fleming sang pitch perfect (duh) and tra-la-la’d her way into my heart forever. I also stood in line at a CD signing and had her sign my program. I still swoon when I watch this DVD.

Sissel: Voice of an angel

2006: Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Sissel. The. Best. Concert. EVUH! So, I’m at this concert and this woman comes out on stage with a hair looking like 1980’s star Kristy McNichol and I wasn’t sure what I was going to get. She opened her mouth and I thought I was hearing an angel. This is essentially a perfect concert. Sissel is a Norwegian soprano who also sang on the Titatnic soundtrack. The album that resulted from this concert, Spirit of the Season, garnered a Grammy nomination for both Sissel and the Mormon Tabernacle choir (Best Classical Crossover Album of the Year, as well as Best Engineered Classical Album). Favorite surprise number from this concert is the ABBA favorite, Like an Angle Passing Through My Room. This also is my husband’s favorite concert. His favorite number is In the Bleak Midwinter (à propos since he’s Canadian).

King Singers2007: Rejoice and Be Merry, King Singers. Thank you, MoTab, for moving away from the obvious title, Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and adding some creativity and flair by titling your concerts. Now that I got that out of the way, This concert is high on the list of favorites. The King Singers are not only extraordinarily talented but terrifically engaging as well. The treasure at this concert is O Holy Night arranged by conductor Mack Wilberg specifically for them. I will confess that O Holy Night is one of my least favorite carols because it has a tendency to just drone on FOREVER, but Wilberg’s arrangement is pure joy and kept me interested. It’s like drinking a big cold glass of chocolate milk. Yummy!

Brian Stokes Mitchell and Edward Herrmann

2008: Ring Christmas Bells, Brian Stokes Mitchell and Edward Herrmann. Speaking of yummy, Brian Stokes Mitchell is one of the best performers I’ve ever seen on stage. He not only has a fantastic baritone voice but he is completely charismatic. He actually had performed with the MoTab earlier in the year at a Tanner Gift of Music concert where my husband and I were just blown away. Favorites from this concert include Grateful and Sleigh Ride (which is quintessential MoTab in case you were wondering). And Edward Herrmann. Wow. Blew me away too. He narrated a wonderful story about the 1864 poem “Christmas Bells” by American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (You know the carol, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day.”) Herrmann gets my vote for the best narration ever at a MoTab Christmas concert.

Natalie Cole

2009: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. Natalie Cole and David McCullough. Sigh. I had such high expectations for this concert. I just adore Ms Cole, but she didn’t deliver at this concert. I know she had been seriously ill that year and I’m a huge fan of hers, but she just seemed a little off to me. And I was totally on the edge of my seat waiting for her to sing The Christmas Song, which her father made popular. Didn’t happen. (Really? Really?) And David McCullough, hmmmm. I know he’s a Pulitzer prize winning author, but a public speaker? Not so much. I remember thinking after this concert, “Maybe I shouldn’t go any more for awhile. Maybe I can’t be impressed anymore.”

MoTab goes American Idol

2010. Glad Christmas Tidings, David Archuleta and Michael York. Well, be careful what you wish for. When MoTab announced David Archuleta as the guest artist for the concert I thought, “Well, that pretty much seals the deal for me about going again. Not happening for this year.” Yes, I’m a bit of a snob. I wasn’t alone in my thinking that the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was being unimaginative and selling out to have a 2nd runner up American Idol star as their guest artist. But I was in the minority as it was the most popular concert ever. And several of my friends looked forward to it and loved it. Yes, he’s a wonderful performer, but it just wasn’t for me. And karma played out in an annoying way for me. The concert was just days after I had surgery to repair my ankle after my Thanksgiving weekend hiking accident in Zion, so I couldn’t go anyway. I did watch the concert on PBS a couple of weeks ago and it was okay. Maybe I would have liked it better if I had attended. Or maybe if I had a better attitude about the whole thing. All my fault.

Jane Seymour and Nathan Gunn

2011: Yet to be named but I’m sure it will have something to do with Good King Winceslas, Nathan Gunn and Jane Seymour. I forgave the Mormon Tabernacle Choir for the David Archuleta and Natalie Cole incidents and my husband and I went to the concert last night. FanTAStic! It even “snowed” in the conference center. I’d been waiting for them to repeat the snow since the 2003 concert. Also, Jane Seymour is in 2nd place for the best narration ever (Herrmann is first place). And she had three costume changes. Nathan Gunn made singing baritone look effortless. Not as charming as the effervescent Bryn Terfel, but given some time he’ll get there. Maybe being Welsh like Terfel could help. Mr. Gunn should look at getting an accent. But I digress. Favorite number from the night was In dulci jubilo (natch–it’s a standard classical showy piece) and Sing Lullaby. (Full confession here: The dancers’ costumes totally reminded me of Spamalot. I was half expecting one of the musical numbers to be Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. But mostly it just made me giggle.)

So that’s it! That’s my round up of the last 10 years of Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Should I ever move, I will miss the anticipation and spectacularness (is that a word?) of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concerts. But I still wish they would charge for tickets rather than give them out at lottery. Just sayin’.

Steve and I at the 2011 Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert

A Happiness List Time Capsule

10 Saturday Dec 2011

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I’m trying to decide if it’s a funny thing when your past makes a reappearance or it’s just plain weird.

You see, my sister and brother-in-law bought the house we all grew up in and last year when they were tearing up the kitchen to remodel, my sister found a piece of paper with a list on it but didn’t know who it belonged to. She showed it to my mom who said, “Oh, that was Lisa’s,” and so she sent it to me.

Yep. It was mine. It was my list of things I wanted for my birthday that would make me happy. I was sure of it. Here’s the list (click photo to enlarge):

My birthday list for when I was to turn 12.

Let me walk you through how these items would make me happy.

Satin Jacket. This was the item that was guaranteed to open doors for me as a 7th grader. It wasn’t just any satin jacket, but a baseball satin jacket in either baby blue, pink, or mint green. Every girl had one and I wanted one so badly. I knew that if I got that jacket I would never need anything else the rest of my life. I did get the jacket for my birthday (an awesome baby blue reversible jacket–denim on one side and satin on the other), but then I felt I needed Jordache jeans followed by a whole slew of fashion needs. I could never chase down happiness in the fashion world.

Jeans. A 12-year-old always needed new jeans. It was just a matter of convincing my mother that JC Penny wasn’t what I was thinking. (Sigh.)

Hoop necklace. I’m not sure but I think a hoop necklace was just a wire that went around my neck. I believe it was all the rage. Not so certain it’s a good look for me now.

School supplies. My birthday is in August and so school supplies always were associated with my birthday, so as much as I longed to separate the two events (I imagine people who have birthdays close to Christmas deal with the same sort of thing), I just capitulated and put the school supplies on my list anyway.

A mini hymn book. I always wanted those little pocked-sized hymnals people would have handy. I thought it was really cute. Now I’m too old and need the big print hymnal just to see the words and notes.

Hard-back dictionary. Yes, I was a nerd. Still am. I have two hard-back dictionaries in my house now. Plus a Scrabble dictionary. And a big hard-back Roget’s Thesaurus. Plus the Chicago Manual of Style. A bunch of Strunk and White books, a Dictionary of Problem Words and Expressions book and a grammar book. It all started here.

Barry Manilow record, Even Now. Gosh, I had nearly every Barry Manilow album growing up. (My career aspirations were first, be a concert pianist. If that didn’t work out my Plan B was to be a back-up singer for Barry Manilow.)

Stationary. No, I didn’t want to stand still at the time. I actually wanted stationery. The stuff with pretty flowers printed on it so I could write notes on it and pass around in class. Hence, the need for the dictionary.

Green eye shadow. I apologize for that one.

Eye liner (green). Again, apologies.

“Blip!” I must confess, I couldn’t remember what this was so I found it on this website.

Batteries for my watch. Isn’t this sweet? I knew that money didn’t grow on trees, so I was asking for batteries for my poor broken watch so my parents could gift them to me. I sure hope my parents celebrated when they read this.

Boots. And so the shoe obsession began. I still put boots on my list.

Suede shoes. All those mentions about dictionaries, school supplies and batteries was just the warm up to the good stuff–shoes. And who doesn’t want suede shoes?

Camera. I actually had to wait until after college before I got my first camera. And I bought it myself. But I was happy to see it made the list back then. I must have predicted that I’d fall in love with cameras later on.

A “game.” Don’t you love how non-specific I am on this? Again, my parents should be thrilled that I left the field so wide open for them.

Calculator. This one puzzles me. I run away from math and anything to do with calculating.

A set of ink pens. I loved to draw and one year I got colored pencils and this was the year I wanted to move up to color pens. I believe it was felt-tipped pens I was looking for. I’m pretty sure I got them that year for my birthday. (Thanks mom!)

Tape recorder. Not sure what I had in mind for the use of this. Tape player, maybe, but a tape recorder?

Sheet music for piano. I was a good piano student and always looking for the latest Barry Manilow song to play. Or something from The Carpenters. (Sorry Beethoven.)

So yeah, it’s a little weird finding this list. I can remember writing it and hoping that I would get at least a few things from it. I sure wish I had that Satin Baseball Jacket now. There’s no way it would fit on my body but I do remember that it was one of the few things I really, really wanted. I’m glad my mom found it for me and helped make my 7th grade experience somewhat tolerable. (Yes, tolerable. A satin jacket can’t fix everything.)

Lemon caper chicken scaloppine

03 Saturday Dec 2011

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I seem to be all about chicken recipes lately. I’m trying to find meals I can cook that are low in sodium that are also tasty. Hard to do, I’m finding. Here’s another favorite of mine: Lemon caper chick scaloppine. (And do try to find broccolini. It’s wonderful! That’s what you see nestled next to the lemon caper chicken scaloppine below.)

Lemon caper chicken scaloppine

PREP AND COOK TIME: About 20 minutes

MAKES: 4 servings

Basic chicken scaloppine recipe

1 tsp olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled and minced

2/3 cup low-sodium chicken broth (I use Swansons No Salt Added broth)

1 tsp grated lemon peel

1 TBS lemon juice

2 TBS capers

Salt and pepper if you desire

1. Keep basic chicken scaloppine warm in a 200-degree oven

2. Add olive oil and garlic to pain used to cook chicken (don’t wash) and stir over high heat until garlic is slightly limp about 15 seconds.

3. Add chicken broth, lemon peel, lemon juice and capers to pan, stir until mixture is boiling. Boil, stirring occasionally, until juices are slightly reduced.

4. Spoon sauce evenly over chicken.

Add salt and pepper to taste.

PER SERVING: 272 cal, 36 g protein, 7.5 g fat (1.2 g sat fat), 13 g carb, 0.5 g fiber, 106 mg sodium, 82 g chol.

Making this year’s Christmas Card

26 Saturday Nov 2011

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For the past 10 years or so I’ve been making my own Christmas cards. It’s not exactly because it’s cheaper. (It’s not.) And it definitely doesn’t save me time, particularly back in the day when I was rubber stamping, glittering, cutting out and embossing 50 plus cards. As if the holidays weren’t stressful enough, this business of making my own cards turned me into a combination of Martha Stewart and Joan Crawford–the “Mommie Dearest” Joan Crawford.

But thanks to Apple, I’ve been making my own cards using iPhoto’s cards feature and have been doing that since around 2008 when I made thank-you cards for my wedding. It’s still not cheaper but it does save me time and I get to maintain that personalized touch because somehow I’m thinking there’s some sort of Pulitzer Prize-equivalent for making homemade Christmas cards.

In a typical year my husband and I have a plethora of photos from which to choose from our many adventures during the year. However, this year was pretty quiet because I was limping around most of the year. We just didn’t travel a whole lot in 2011. (sigh)

So, one night while wasting away an entire evening on Pinterest, I found this photo. I thought, Okay, I’m totally stealing that idea.

All it took was bribing my husband with a meal and getting my photographer friend, Jolie, to snap the photo for me and we got this!

Front of Christmas card

Inside of Christmas card

I couldn’t find the “Merry Christmas” garland that I wanted, so I ended up making it myself. So, I guess this Christmas card is actually a hybrid of the way I used to make cards (totally arts and crafts) and using modern technology (Apple’s iPhoto).

In the end, it turned out way cuter than I could imagine. Can’t wait to get them back from Apple!

Between Thanksgivings

20 Sunday Nov 2011

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The following are “journal entries” I either documented on Facebook or jotted down in a notebook this past year. It chronicles the year as I worked my way through coping with my broken leg/ankle.

November 25, 2010 – Thanksgiving Day,

A pretty fantastic Thanksgiving meal at local restaurant, Tuscany. Love that it’s just down the street from us and after a short nap, we hit the road for the four-hour drive to Zion National Park in Southern Utah!

November 26, 2010 – Oh Crap.

The day started out beautifully. We hiked Emerald Pools and though it was very chilly, I felt energized and so excited to be enjoying the beauty. But on the way down I slid on some ice and hurt my ankle. (Well, “hurt” sounds too minor. The foot was actually pointing the wrong direction.) Let me be clear: IT HURT LIKE HELL! Steve and two lady hikers who came upon us dragged me about 800 meters while we waited for the Park Ranger to arrive. We were worried about hypothermia setting in, hence the need to get me out of the shade and into the sun. I was worried about my hands and feet. I have Reynaud’s Syndrome, which in most instances is just inconvenient, as it makes my hands and feet turn white, then purple, and then red and swollen when exposed to cold. But in this case, I was worried that I’d get frost bite much quicker than the average person.

Search and Rescue eventually reached me and carried me out. Still, at this point, I’m thinking it’s just a sprained ankle. I was loaded into the ambulance and taken an hour away to St. George.

So I broke my tibia and fibula. Seems as though I have to have surgery so I opted to have it done back in Salt Lake City. After loads of drugs, the staff tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together again and wrapped up my leg and we went back to the hotel in Zion.

November 29, 2010 – Phone calls

First call: Call work to let them know it’s going to be awhile before I make it into work, which has me really worried. I just started this job FOUR WEEKS AGO! (I actually texted to my boss the picture of me being carried off by Search and Rescue. There’s nothing better than great proof on why you’re not going to be in the office.)

Second call: Find a surgeon. So how do you shop around for a surgeon? Well, you start making phone calls. I finally decided to call my Physical Therapist who actually worked with me the previous summer on that very same ankle. (For acute achilles tendonitis.) First of all, she was not happy to hear that I messed up a perfectly good ankle but did give me the name of a good surgeon.

Third call: MOM!!!! Steve’s great and all, but I needed my mother around. She knows how to deal with these things.

November 30, 2010 – New Hardware

Today is surgery day. Feeling okay about it until I saw this Reader’s Digest sitting in the waiting room before I went in.

Everything seemed to have come out okay. A plate, five screws and 2 pins later I looked like this:

December 1 – 10, 2010 – The Lost Days

Don’t remember much about the 10 days following surgery. Except there was a lot of television (I watched so much HGTV that I’m certain I can build a house, decorate it and landscape it with no problem), a lot of vomiting (and mom was always there with the bucket), and a lot of pain. Actually, it wasn’t pain, it was just extreme discomfort. I learned a big lesson–the difference between being in pain and being uncomfortable. And that’s how I got off my pain meds so quickly.

December 24, 2010 – On Our Own

Mom left to go back to Oregon today. I was very, very sad to see her go. I hope that one day I can be like her and drop everything to go help someone for 25 days. Okay, let’s see how Steve does this on his own.

January 4, 2011 – Back to Work

I needed a wheelchair to go back to work. I had crutches, of course, but it’s a little problematic when your hands are swollen all the time like mine are (the Reynaud’s and this crazy autoimmune thing I’ve got going on), but mostly, it’s tough carrying around a laptop and notebook to meetings when you’re on crutches. I’m tired a lot. I’m also feeling quite lost–remember, I just started this job and was in it for only four weeks before I was out on medical for five weeks. I hate talking to my direct reports in a wheelchair or while sitting down. I have to look up at them. I feel like I’m not very commanding or even important. I’ve also discovered what’s ADA compliant in the office and what isn’t. I’m so dehydrated because I try not to drink water so I don’t have to use the bathroom at work. It’s such an ordeal–I have to take the elevator to another floor to use an ADA compliant bathroom.

January 10, 2011 – Project Runway

This injury changes just about everything. It’s hard to look cute when you’ve got the Storm Trooper boot on. But thank goodness for footless tights. (Regular tights pulled too much on the injured foot.) A whole world of possibilities have opened for me now.

And I’ve become the queen of online purchasing. It’s just too much of an ordeal to go out shopping in either the wheelchair or on crutches. Navigating around in the wintertime just feeds my fear of slipping.

February 4, 2011 – Physical Therapy

I love my physical therapist, but this time around I’m beginning to hate her. Big crocodile tears rolled down my face today as she pushed on my ankle to try to get back my dorsal flection. This can’t be happening, I thought. What if I can’t walk again? Those are real thoughts. But the more profound thought for me has been around, “What if I get fatter?” This injury couldn’t have come at a worse time. I have a chronic illness already (at the time we thought it was lupus), I have an extraordinarily busy job, I travel, and I already needed to lose a few pounds. Now this?! Ugh. So endure the pain, I must. I’m now doing physical therapy three times a week.

February 15, 2011 – Shoes!

Today I can wear shoes!

February 20, 2011 – Navigating Airports

I’ve had two business trips for work since the accident. Steve’s been my sherpa for both trips. Thank goodness he has the flexibility to do that. The whole airport thing is an ordeal, though. It does allow me to bump to the front of the line, but getting through security is a more manual process. Poor Steve’s back–he’s had to manage the luggage and me in the wheel chair. While in Orlando, we had some time and went to Cocoa Beach and I practiced walking on the sand with the help of my crutches.

March 12, 2011 – Hiring a Trainer

I’m not done with physical therapy yet, but I went back to the gym and hired a trainer anyway. Steve also is training along with me, so it’s turned out to be quite fun. It’s been 3 and 1/2 months since I’ve broken out in a sweat that wasn’t induced by some sort of medication or menopause, so it felt great to feel a little raise in endorphins. It’s still a little awkward–I can’t do everything I used to do, but I’m determined. Besides, my clothes don’t seem to be fitting anymore and it’s getting quite depressing. I have to do something about this weight gain. All this sitting around for 3 plus months just sucks.

June 3, 2011 – Graduation Day

Today I graduated from Physical Therapy. You get a t-shirt when you graduate.It’s kind of weird, because for the past 4 and 1/2 months the folks at Mountain Land Physical Therapy have been a big part of my life.

I still have a great deal of work to do–my dorsal flection still is not where it should be and I still limp. Moreso, my confidence isn’t where it should be.

June 16, 2011 – What goes around comes around

Steve had surgery oh his nose today. It’s his turn to get all the attention and I’m happy to help him out. I don’t think I could ever do enough to repay him back for all the help he’s been to me.

August 9, 2011 – Getting older just doesn’t help

I turned 45 today. I still limp from my injury, though. My legs (both of them) are still stiff. I think the 3 and 1/2 months of not walking took its toll on my body. I know I don’t have lupus…I can sense it. Thank goodness I have an appointment with a new rheumatologist and hopefully I can get some answers. I seem to be working long hours at the office, which isn’t helping anything with my body right now. Will have to seek a balance somehow.

September 5, 2011 – Zumba

I may still limp. I may have those days where I feel like I’m moving in cement (thank you, autoimmune disease, which I now know is scleroderma), but there’s something about Zumba that helps with both my confidence and my ability to still feel like I can move. I do not lie when I say that there are sometimes I’m nearly moved to tears during a Zumba class. It’s almost the same feeling I’ve gotten when doing yoga. I think it must tap into something inside of me that brings my emotions to the surface.

The best part is this: I often limp as I walk into Zumba and when I’m done I can walk pretty normally.

November 20, 2011 – Cycling through it all

This brings me to here–just days before Thanksgiving. I think this week I’ve turned a corner. Sure, I’ve gained 15 pounds this year WHICH I BLAME SOLELY ON THIS INJURY! But I’m at the point now where I can just let it all go and try to get back on track. It’s been a year of making my place at a new job, getting my confidence back with simple things like walking, and learning to receive help from others. I also feel that this year I was able to move forward in getting answers for my chronic condition–learning that it’s not one disease but another one.

My father died suddenly and unexpectedly on January 3rd in 1996. It was a tough year that followed, but I remember distinctively that I felt as though a burden was lifted as I rang the New Year in with my mom on 1997. I felt as though I was done cycling through that year and it was time to move on. Big things happened to me as I moved forward. I went to graduate school, moved up the career ladder, traveled and eventually found my husband.

I think I’m done cycling through with this injury now. I still have a ways to go with getting my foot back to normal, but I want to let go of the fear.

Oh, and I want to let go of all those medical bills too.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Orange-olive chicken scaloppine

13 Sunday Nov 2011

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This was my first-ever chicken scaloppine. This recipe is from the Sunset magazine “Secrets from Our Test Kitchen” supplement that came to me when I subscribed to Sunset  magazine.  Totally worth the price of subscription.

Orange-olive chicken scaloppine

Steve and I totally loved this!  It’s easy peasy to make and I love that the sodium is so low, yet it’s so flavorful.

PREP AND COOK TIME About 20 minutes

MAKES 4 servings

Basic chicken scaloppine (See directions below in post just previous to this one)

2 tsp. olive oil

1/3 cup pine nuts

1/4 cup fat-skimmed chicken broth (I use no salt added Swanson’s broth)

1/4 cup chopped shallots

1 tsp. grated orange peel

1/2 cup orange juice

1/4 cup pitted kalamata olives

1 Tbsp chopped parsley

Salt and pepper

  1. Keep basic chicken scaloppine warm in a 200-degree oven.
  2. Add 1 tsp. olive oil and the its to pan used to cook chicken (don’t wash) and stir over medium heat until golden, 30 seconds to 1 minute. Remove pan from heat and scoop out nuts with a slotted spoon, set aside.
  3. Set pan over medium-high heat; add remaining 1 tsp oil and the shallots, and stir until shallots are limp, about 2 minutes
  4. Add chicken broth, orange peel, orange juice, and olives; stir until mixture is boiling.
  5. Boil, stirring occasionally, until juices are slightly reduce, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes.
  6. Spon sauce over chicken. Sprinkle with nuts and parsley. Add salt and pepper to taste.
PER SERVING
390 calories, 395 (153 cal) from fat; 38 grams protein, 17 grams fat (2.2 grams saturated); 23 grams carbs; 1.3 grams fiber; 257 MG sodium; 82 MG cholesterol

Basic chicken scaloppine

13 Sunday Nov 2011

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If you master this you can make chicken scaloppine recipes until the cows…er, chickens…come home.

STEP 1 Rinse 4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves; pat dry. Sprinkle both sides lightly with salt and pepper (I actually skip this step since I’m on a ridiculously low-sodium diet). Place halves between sheets of plastic wrap, with a mallet or rolling pin, gently pound chicken to an even 1/4 in. thick. Peel off wrap.

STEP 2 Put about 1/2 cup all-purpose flour in a shallow container. Turn each piece of chicken in flour to coat lightly.

STEP 3 Set a 10- to 12-inch nonstick pan over medium-high heat; when hot, ad 2 tsp olive oil. Lay 2 pieces of chicken in pan; cook, turning once, until no longer pink in the center (cut to test), 4 to 6 minutes. Transfer to a platter or plates and keep warm in a 200-degree oven. Repeat to cook remaining chicken in 2 more tsp. oil.

My life as a master forger

29 Saturday Oct 2011

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In high school I was like that girl Andrea on the Beverly Hills 90210 television show from the ’90s. A little nerdy, a little too talkative, and I worked on the school newspaper. I just didn’t wear glasses.

On the surface, I was pretty straight laced. I never got in trouble and I don’t think my parents ever really got mad or upset at me. (It’s not like I was getting invitations to parties or anything–I was pretty safe being at home on the weekends doing nerdy things like reading a book or practicing my calligraphy.)

I know. Yawn.

But what most people don’t know is that I had a secret life as a master forger. I wasn’t exactly like that guy on Catch Me if You Can, but if I had taken just one wrong turn I’m sure I could have “concurred” during a surgical procedure or pretended I was a pilot. I’m sure of it.

This is how it all went down:

It was my junior year in high school. The school sometimes hired me for my calligraphy skills for certificates they were handing out, whether it be for the athletic program, or some other club or organization. I guess word travels when you’ve made a name for yourself in the world of calligraphy. A few of the cheerleaders soon hired me to make their “spirit” signs throughout the halls. They’d bring me a big roll of colored butcher paper and I’d take it home and roll it out on the floor of our family room, and while watching the Johnny Carson show late at night, I’d paint signs that would say things like “Go Pioneers!” (that was our mascot–the Oregon City Pioneers) or “Beat West Linn!” (they were our rivals from across the river). I rocked those spirit sign posters.

What surprised me when I was painting the signs for the cheerleaders was that they began to pay me about $5 per sign. This was my first taste of capitalism, and little did I know where it would take me.

My signs became quite popular and so people began asking me to make signs to wish a friend “happy birthday!” or to ask someone to homecoming or prom. My signs began decorating the hallways and I had a pretty good business making about $10-$15 a week.

If sign painting was required to stay on the island on the show Survivor I’m sure I would never get kicked off. And that’s how I felt in high school. I was a keeper.

Now I’m not exactly sure how the next thing happened though. People knew I made signs and they knew I had all sorts of “fonts” and “typography” up my sleeve (though no one called it that–this was pre-Macintosh days. In fact, pre-computer days). And they knew I shamelessly took their money in exchange for my talent. But one day a kid–a cute guy, in fact–came up to me and asked me if I would help him out by writing him a note from his mother that he could take to the school office. The note was to explain that he was home sick the day before and couldn’t be at school.

There was a voice in my head that immediately told me I shouldn’t be doing that. It was wrong. But I looked up at him into his dark eyes and said, “Why, of course!” I wrote the note in my most adult-looking penmanship and away he went. I think after that day when he would pass me in the halls he might have even smiled at me once or twice. Maybe.

Before I knew it, almost as soon as I got through the high school doors, before first period, there would be a group gathering around me. They would be shoving stationery at me that they grabbed from home and they had pens in their hands for me to use. For $5 each, I would write their “notes from their mothers.”

This went on for a few months and then I can’t remember why it stopped. Either everyone decided it wasn’t a good idea anymore or maybe I took the high road and said I wasn’t going to do it anymore. (If the latter was the case, it’s too bad I don’t remember doing that. I’d like to think that I could remember when I behave virtuously.)

I’ve gone back to living my nerdy, quiet life. I don’t forge anymore. That was just my phase in high school. It garnered me a little bit of attention, a cute boy would smile at me, and I was making some pretty good cash for very little effort. It was capitalism at it’s finest!

But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to run for public office now.

I know, you thought I was an athlete, right?

19 Wednesday Oct 2011

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I wasn’t very athletic when I grew up.  In fact, the whole P.E. thing alarmed me when I started Junior High School and discovered that we had to actually shower in front of each other. I mean, I never got naked in front of my own family, why would people think that its okay to get naked in front of girls from your math or choir class?

And then I felt like I got the coveted Willie Wonka golden ticket–the doctor’s note excusing me from P.E.  I had bad knees that seemed to dislocate just by turning left.  Or right.  It was both knees and after suffering a dislocated knee during line soccer and three knee operations later, there was just too much paperwork for the school administration to have to go through every time it happened that they welcomed the doctor note.

So all during Junior High and High School I took other electives like calligraphy or jewelry making or movie making and relished in the fact that I didn’t have to get naked in public.

Once I entered college, though, I decided to look at all the various options for physical education (mostly because I had to in order to graduate).  I tried dance aerobics, tennis and swimming.  All the girls in dance aerobics apparently were ex-high school cheerleaders and I felt like the biggest dork.  They all seemed to already know about quick-ball change and v-steps and the ol’ standard, grapevine. This was all new to me.  They never taught this in calligraphy class.   Tennis made me feel worse.  (“You  mean I have to run after the ball?  What kind of game is this?”) At least with swimming I started to get a little confidence. Especially when I was able to do the butterfly.  (I rocked!) Since then I took that confidence and discovered step aerobics, kick boxing, weight lifting, spinning, hiking,

Fast forward to now.  I now feel like I did when I was in junior high where I got the golden ticket excuse to get out of P.E. But it’s not the kind of note I want.  Having an auto immune chronic illness means I have to make sure that I’m exercising, but sometimes the fatigue just takes over.

The best way to describe it is this way:  It’s like moving in cement.

But tonight I felt a little normal again.  After a long day at work my super duper supportive husband went to the gym with me tonight and we attended our weight lifting class and then I stayed for the Zumba class.  I just love Zumba!  It’s the one class where even if I am moving in cement I can still move. It’s freeing and fun.  I feel like I’m able to open up it kind of makes me feel young again. There are all shapes and sizes in the class, not to mention ages. It’s fun and such a stress release for me  In fact, my husband goes nearly every time with me and that’s a great example of the kind of support he gives me. And I think he has fun too.

I was thinking tonight during the Zumba class that it doesn’t matter that I can’t move like I used to.  I’m just so glad I’m moving.  It seems like I started out my teenage years not caring about P.E., but now that I need to move I’m grateful for the days when I can. And tonight I could and had a blast.