Morning

Not generally a morning person, I am shocked that the bed lost it's pleasant comfort prior to 5AM this morning and yesterday too. Wondering if this is one of those stages when the circadium rhythm is rebalancing in my universe or maybe the brain is just running circles around the aging body. Conversations this week with four people from various stages of my past have stirred up the nostalgia while allowing such unexplainable joy from good memories. Late night musings of "remember....." and "what were we thinking..." and "did you know" and even a few "what ifs" and "might have been" comments brought in the laughter. Watching parents age and their memories fade adds even more value to these moments. My plan is to drift into the late years of my life in a state of being "pleasantly addled". Does that mean these treasured visits will no longer be possible? I have to wonder if more recent friendships will ever reach the richness of those from my teens, twenties, thirty-somethings, and forties. See what happens when I don't indulge in my deep sleep well after the sunrise? Who can sleep with all these delicious memories swirling through the mind!

Cheesy

Back in the sixties roquefort dressing was ever so popular at fine restaurants. My father loved it but it was usually very expensive. The rich stuff's availability faded with the arrival of dressings made from buttermilk with a packet of seasoning and a little mayo. Blue Cheese dressing has been the closest relative available to enhance our green leafies for the last couple of decades, should one tire of the buttermilk fare. Roquefort is a cheese from a specific group of caves in France. While it is a "blue" cheese, not all blue cheese is roquefort. Ol' Abner has always turned his head in disgust when anything made with blue cheese was offered.

Much to my surprise, he delighted in a wedge of lettuce slathered in "roquefort dressing" at one of our favorite restaurants last week. When ordering the appetizer, he neglected to specify a dressing on the chilled lettuce wedge, but suggested to me that they probably had some special house dressing like "french" or something for it. When it arrived on a chilled plate with the chunky white topping, he cut a big bite off and exclaimed that it was extrordinarily good. The waitress shared the "secret" that it was not made with real "roquefort" but with the milder gorgonzola cheese.

His tastebuds craved another of the salads this week, but the chosen restaurant is just over an hour's drive and reserved for special occasions or times when a trip takes us that way. Internet research yielded several recipes for "roquefort dressing". That was the easy part. Still convinced that he dislikes "blue cheese", we began the search for gorgonzola cheese. The fourth grocery store carried one size package of the crumbly stuff, just a little less than the amount called for in the recipe. We hurried home to mix up the dressing and allow it time to chill before dinner.

Tonight's menu:
Grilled skewers of shrimp
Roasted corn on the cob
Chilled wedges of lettuce with roquefort dressing and diced tomato garnish

How things do come back around! My father would have loved that meal. (oh yeah, I think Ol' Abner secretly does like blue cheese.......)

September Eleventh

This is the ninth anniversary of the worst terrorist attack ever inflicted on our nation. It is also my oldest maternal uncle's eightieth birthday. Uncle's mother, my grandmother, would have celebrated her 101st birthday today. A good friend and co-worker will always know that her birthday is easily remembered by all who knew her then. Nine eleven, as we often shortcut the day's description, has had a profound effect on my life. I rejoice in the existence of those born on this day while mourning the loss of the many whose lives ended so suddenly in 2001. For now I offer a prayer of thanks in the hope that Grandma will be eavesdropping. I will call Uncle Vic because he means so much to me and I have the need to tell him. I'll drop a note to Sandy wishing her the best of days. The newspapers and television coverage will continue the marathon commemoration of our national tragedy. I am grateful that I have so much to celebrate today!

Water

Officially, I am a year older having celebrated a birthday last week. That's the least of the story. On the day prior to my planned celebration, Ol' Abner mentioned that he was having difficulty seeing from his left eye. He mentioned this as we were hauling a plastic draped load of furniture on an open trailer from another city in a deluge. He was a little sketchy with the details in one of those "how-can-you-be-so-dense" responses when I questioned the depth of his condition. He has a cataract and recently diagnosed AMD. Since he could still see the little spot in the center of the eye chart posted on the fridge, he vehemently ruled out the possibility that the trouble was anything more than progression of the cataract. The water pouring from the sky caused all other discussion to be postponed. The following day was blessed with rain predictions never fulfilled. We drove over to a nearby city, enjoyed a walk along the water, shopped a bit, then indulged in a delightful dinner. During our leisurely drive home he alluded to flashing and big "floaters" appearing regularly in the field of vision on his left...OH..OH..OH! Relating some of the danger signs listed when researching his condition and the admonition from the medical pros to call immediately if any of that list should occur, I urged him to call for an appointment in the optical lab. He admitted to not wanting to dampen the enjoyment of my birthday celebration and since he had a scheduled foot appointment for today, he had planned to call for a consult in the optical clinic. HMMMMM. Arriving home after regular clinic hours he promised to call Friday morning. I reminded him again, and again and he finally gave up procrastination and called around noon. Response from the optical clinic was "COME RIGHT NOW!". We jumped in the car and drove through sprinkling rain and ever increasing holiday traffic. It's just over a three hour drive via winding mountain roads to the medical center responsible for his care. The diagnosis: Detached Retina (specifically two holes with liquid leaking around them) resulting with vision in the eye in imminent danger. This was not the dreaded Age-related Macular Degeneration changing from "Dry" to "Wet", but equally as threatening. The staff sprang into action, photographing his inner eye, poking it hither and yon, letting him look at charts he couldn't read and then scrambling him into a ready and waiting OR for lazer "tacking". Spring forward to today. His scheduled appointment was conveniently piggy backed with the follow-up from the Friday. He was right about that at least. We left home in sprinkly rain drops and damp roads. On the first hill exiting our town, an oncoming pick-up truck came around the corner in a sideways skid and very nearly helped us over the other side of the mountain. Rain intermittently poured or drizzled all three hours of travel and two more near misses by hydroplaning, sliding and skidding vehicles had us totally on edge. Torrents of water drenching the car made me feel like I needed a towel inside. I really don't like to travel in rain, so it could be said I was in a never ending nightmare. Tonight we are safely home, dry, and thankful for a good progress report on Ol' Abner's eye. Now if all this water will just soak on in and go on into the lake. It could be worse. Tornados are tracing around friends and family in Texas. Enough water everywhere!