Things could be worse....

This hasn't been the greatest week. I've had a sore throat all week, my dad was in the hospital for several days, hubby hurt his one good knee, water is leaking through the roof as snow and ice melt, we are socked in with clouds that begin at ground level, the squirrels have figured out how to empty two bird feeders despite new baffles, and my computer conked out again. Plus a few more things I'm not even going to mention.

I have to stop and remind myself that we're all fine, and for that I must be grateful.

As far as we know, we have no major illnesses, just some kind of winter cold or flu that recycles among the grandkids, their parents, and Peter and me. Sore throats make me cranky, because (a) they hurt and (b)they represent failure. Hand-washing can't overcome all the sneezes and coughs, can't keep the kids from wiping their noses on my shirt, can't prevent them from taking food from their mouths and putting it on my plate. And really, I still want to cuddle them even when, in my mind's eye, they come to resemble those revolting germ images you see in ads for cold remedies.

For a man of 95, my dad has been in good health. Last summer he and my stepmother finally moved to an assisted living facility about 90 minutes from here (their home had been hours away). He was feeling weak and short of breath, so he was admitted to the hospital. His hemoglobin was low, so they gave him a couple of units of blood. After that, they began to adjust his medications. Each change created a new problem until things were properly balanced. He's been released to the nursing care wing of the same building where he lives, to rebuild his strength. His wife can be with him every day, and my siblings and I can see him much more readily than when they lived "up north." I drove up on Tuesday and spent time with him. He seems pretty happy and engaged, not at all ready to give up. I see this as both a warning and a gift.

Peter's knee injury is painful, but it seems to be a bruise that will heal. For his sake I hope so, because the other knee isn't reliable at all, and favoring the one just hurts the other one more. Meanwhile...

He's had to be up and down ladders indoors and out working to get snow and ice off the roof and manage the spots where water is seeping through, mostly in my office. Yesterday two aluminum mixing bowls filled with water drip-drip-dripping from the ceiling. At one point I leaned a few inches to my right to grab a document off my desk--and got two big plops of water on the forehead. News reports say just about every home in the region is getting some damage. The people next door had an entire room just ruined; a repair truck was there for two weeks straight. We are lucky to have minimal damage (right where we had some about 10 years ago). And we plan to have a new roof installed this spring, so we'll know exactly where attention must be paid.

We've made it to the end of January, which means the worst of the weather should be over, and even if not, February brings two birthdays and Valentine's Day. It can't be as drab and dreary as what I'm seeing today! And again, in the things-could-be-worse perspective, we are prepared for this stuff. Plus, as I like to say, this weather builds character.

My computer was out of commission for over a week. I have to spend some time restoring things to the way I want them, but the good news is I didn't lose any data. And this time, I had both an iPad and a borrowed laptop, so I could at least read mail and blogs, map my trip to see my dad, and such.

I was going to illustrate this post with a picture of nasty germs. Instead, I'm sharing a photo that Peter took not long ago. This is what it's all about.

I thought this wouldn't happen for another 10 years

At breakfast the other day, Peter was recapping a conversation he'd just had with Augie. They'd been talking about Augie's favorite things to do.

These included a list of favorite activities with his mom, dad, and sister (zoo, museums, baseball games, other outings); preschool; and coming to Pa and Grandma's house. We all agreed he and ViMae had a very nice life.

I said I was glad they liked coming to our house. Peter and I told both children, again, how much we loving having them spend time with us. We said we loved sharing things with them, like music and bird-watching and stories. Then we took it a step too far.

Peter said something like, "We hope we can do this for a long time; we have lots more things we want to share with you."

Augie replied, "But Pa, I already know about everything."

Guests for lunch

Yesterday I hung a nyjer seed sock just outside the kitchen window, hoping to attract goldfinches. Within an hour, I spotted one on the sock. It flew off to a neighbor's yard, and five minutes later, a half-dozen winter-hued goldfinches showed up. This morning they were back in force, and they timed their visits so we could watch them during breakfast and lunch.

While I was hanging the sock, I heard what seemed to be some calls of alarm from birds around the neighborhood. I looked up and saw a red-tailed hawk flying very high, directly above our house. It was a dramatic reminder of the wide variety of birds in our urban forest.

Meanwhile, Peter and I are wowed by the fact that these tiny birds found this little sock feeder so quickly. The kids are delighted to watch them, and we all look forward to seeing their summer colors... many months from now.

Warning: potty talk ahead

We were driving to preschool on Thursday.

Augie: "I don't get my butt."

Me: "What is it that you don't understand?"

I took off my earmuffs to hear better, but his little voice couldn't entirely pierce the noise of the engine, the fan valiantly trying to warm the car, and the square tires galumphing over ice ruts and potholes. So what I heard sounded like, "Mfff nuddle shpin Pa said norple glang beezer." He continued for a while, and he seemed to be working through a confusing situation. Then, clarity.

Augie: "I didn't eat enough pressure."

Me: "Are you saying you're still hungry?"

Augie: "No, I'm not hungry. I'm talking about my butt. I didn't eat enough pressure."

Later, Pa helped me figure it out. Augie is a prodigious eater of fruits and vegetables, oat cereals, and other foods that make him a champion pooper. Everyone celebrates this.

But his first attempt that morning was a rare occurrence for him, involving an enormous struggle, a bit of pain, and a clot of nasty little marbles. Soon after, he was back to form, producing two excellent specimens. Pa explained once again about how the right foods produce easy, healthy poop. But during our drive, Augie was still puzzling over what had gone wrong.

In his experience, when you want to move something through a tube, you apply pressure. Hence his conclusion: "I didn't eat enough pressure."

As long as we can equate "pressure" with fiber, this kid's going to be a champion.