Author: Toni L Arends

Ah Mother’s Day. It sounds like such a grand holiday. For most mom’s I think it is. It’s a day of homemade gifts presented from little hands, of flowers and special brunches from grateful spouses or significant others, of lots of hugs and kisses. The kind of day that warms the heart.

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with Mother’s Day most of my life. When I was a child in those years they now call tweens, the pressure was on to save up every cent you could get by turning in pop bottles, or from allowances and then bicycle your way to the local gift shop.

In my case it was just a few blocks up to “the Hill” or College Hill as it’s still known. There was a little pet and gift shop there that I would take all my found change in search of the perfect dollar gift. I’d buy my mom some little porcelain figurine that I thought she would like. A little teapot, or a small dish, a tiny heart shaped something. Then I would fold a piece of paper and draw her a nice card to go with it.

Mom of course, as all mothers do, would “ooo” and “aww” over my little gift and I would be off the hook for another year. I don’t recall however, seeing any of these little trinkets later in life. Apparently, my mom did not have hoarder tendencies like I do, which I define as sentimentality.

When I was an adult, the pressure became even greater to buy your mother something worthy of her having to have put up with you for your entire childhood and especially your teen years. I don’t remember anything I got my mother, but I’m sure it was awesome. At least that’s what I tell myself.

When I began having children my role then changed into being the mom who "ooed" and "awed" over the dandelion bouquets and hand drawn pictures from my four children. I never got the flowers and brunch from my husband, aka Mr. Romance, but that’s for another blog. His line was always, “well, you’re not my mother”.

I lost my mother to breast cancer when I was just 42, my dad had died just three years earlier. Mother’s Day now had a different meaning to me, it was a day of joy with my four children, but now also a day of loss over my own mother. My love/hate relationship with Mother’s Day now took on a whole new meaning. I no longer had a mom that I could stress over buying a gift for, and that made it worse somehow.

As my children grew and each left our home to start their own life adventures, I would look forward to Mother’s Day because it usually meant all four of them and their families would gather at our house for the weekend. It was a time of love and laughter, and I didn’t care if there were gifts or no gifts, just having them there together was all the joy I needed. For me, Mother’s Day has always been any day all of my children are home together with us.

Then another Mother’s Day happened. It would be the last Mother’s Day my oldest daughter Torri would have. I was living with them in Wisconsin and I mistakenly thought that a nice way I could help them enjoy the day would be to let them have the afternoon and supper alone together, just the three of them, since I was always there underfoot.

When I came back to their house after supper I noticed Torri looked very sad and had tears in her eyes, which tore my heart in two. She asked me why I hadn’t been there, and I explained that it was my gift to them as a family to give them some alone time. She looked at me and said, “but you are my mother, I wanted to celebrate with you.”

I think I hugged her harder than I ever had. I’ve never forgotten that day or those words. Instead of doing what I thought was a good thing, I had overlooked the fact that she had just wanted to spend the day with her mom. My gift to her had been right in front of my nose, literally. Torri died just about a week later on May 22, 2015.

Mother’s Day has never been the same for me since.

It’s hard to celebrate Mother’s Day when you’ve lost your mother, but I can tell you it’s nearly impossible to do so if you’ve lost a child. It’s even harder because you need to be there for your other children if you are so blessed, and/or grandchildren, but the hole in your very soul makes it nearly impossible to get past the day.

You laugh and smile and you are eternally grateful for all the phone calls and visits from your children and grandchildren, but there is always that one ever present loss in your life that never ceases. In the back of my mind, there is always that last Mother’s Day with Torri looping through my brain. I wish more than anything I could re-do that day. I will forever dread Mother’s Day for that reason.

I love Mother’s Day because it reminds me of each of my four children, the joy of each of them, their unique strengths and weaknesses, the things that make each of them who they are. I no longer get to have all of them here together. Some live farther away, some have their own women in their lives to celebrate, one is in Heaven. I love hearing from each of them and having the ones who live nearby stop over. It’s always a good day whenever you hear from your children.

I hate Mother’s Day because of all the other mom’s I know who have lost a child. I now know the pain they are having today and every single day. I hate it because of all the women out there who long to be a mother but can’t for whatever reason and perhaps can’t afford to adopt a child because the costs are ridiculously high.

I hate Mother’s Day because it reminds me of the child I have lost and of her little boy who no longer has his mother. I am very thankful because of the woman who has stepped in to represent that role in his life now and I’m so grateful and happy she is there. Sadly, the pain of my daughter’s loss is no easier, and once again, it is a love/hate relationship with this day.

I will never have that “perfect” Mother’s Day, if such a thing exists, and I will always have a love/hate relationship with it. I am so thankful that I was able to have four beautiful, intelligent, loving children who have been blessed with wonderful children of their own.

I decided to wait and post this blog after Mother’s Day, because if it is just a happy special day for you then I did not want to spoil your day in any way. I hope it always remains that way. If you are, like I am, dreading that day and perhaps grieving for a child, or children lost, then I waited to let the day pass for you. God bless you all.

I want to leave you with something positive to remember on Mother’s Day. Whatever your circumstances, however you do or don’t celebrate the day, whether you are a mother of human beings, pets, or just have a mother, give yourself a hug. Being a mom is a tough job.

Enjoy each and every moment you can with your children, whether human or furry babies, but know that it’s impossible to be a “perfect” mom and many days are going to be bad days and many are going to be good days and that is ok. It’s ok to end up the day with nothing in the house getting done. Were the children/pets fed? Is everyone healthy and tucked into bed safe and warm. Then you did ok. It’s fine to be happy with the smallest of victories.

Take each day on its own, some are better than others, accept the failures along with the wins. Know that kids are kids. Each one is an individual. If your child isn’t reading yet or can’t play the violin or solve math problems at age five, it’s ok. This age of social media has put so much undo pressure on moms to raise children in a perfect way to be just like everyone else. What a boring world that would be! I can tell you that each of my four had their own very distinct personalities, and they still do. Thank you!

God blessed me with two easy children to start off with. He knew what was coming and I guess He wanted to give me a few years of parenting experience before I tackled the next two. My first son and daughter were laid back kids, easy going spirits who played well together and were like dream children. Then I had another son and daughter. Welcome reality.

These two were a challenge right from the beginning. They have often challenged me throughout my life, God bless them! I wouldn’t want it any other way. As I said earlier, how boring life would be if all children acted the same. I have gone through ups and downs with each of my four children, and we have traveled some rough roads together. We are family, and we always pull through when we stick together as one.

I love each one of them for who they are as an individual and for who they are as siblings to each other. None of them are perfect, and I love them all unconditionally, just as they are. Each of them is raising their own children and I am happy to tell you that the “Mother’s Curse” (may God give you children that act just like you!) really works. Thank you Lord.

I’m glad this holiday has passed but I am also very thankful for it. I’m thankful I’m the mother of these four.

God bless all the Mom’s out there.

Until next time…Toni

Brittney & Torri

Josh & Jason

Josh, Torri, Jason & Brittney (dogs are Shar-pei’s Jack & Jazz)

Sometimes I feel like my brain is stuck in about second grade, in that I feel completely inferior brain wise to everyone else sitting around me in certain situations. This doesn’t happen a lot, I mean I do watch Jeopardy every day, but when it does, its alw

ays reassuring to notice that there are quite probably others in the room on equal footing with me.

This happened to me recently when I attended the local weather spotters advanced training. My love of the weather and especially storms started at an early age. I have always been fascinated with thunderstorms, lightening and tornadoes. Why does one storm produce them and not another?

I have been taking photos of clouds and storms my entire life. I used to take my children outside when there was a thunderstorm to the north of us and show them the clouds and features of the storm. My youngest daughter is still terrified of storms in spite of me trying to help her love them.

My oldest son was also fascinated by storms and became a weather spotter after high school and got me into that as well. He has that math/science brain that goes well with all the knowledge of weather. I look at it from more of an artistic mind.

Today, my storm spotting days still continue and while I don’t go out anymore and sit in my car near thunderstorms that could develop into tornadoes, I do still keep a watchful eye out here at my home and have a pretty great view of the countryside around me. I like to think I can help keep my little town and the cities to the east of me more weather informed.

Each year the National Weather Service in Des Moines, puts on a beginner and an advanced weather spotter training sessions that are held around the state. I’ve been a registered storm spotter for many years and have attended many beginner storm spotter trainings to always keep up to date. This year I decided to attend the local advanced spotter training, thinking I could gain more knowledge. This is where the brain inferiority comes into play.

The class was held at Latham Hall on the UNI campus. The only parking nearby is metered for thirty minutes only. I didn’t realize this until I had put about three too many quarters in the meter and realized I was not getting any extra time. To be fair the part that tells you it is for a maximum of thirty minutes is written very tiny and across the inside of the meter and very hard to read. You are welcome for the seventy-five cent donation UNI.

I walked into the building and waited with the others out in the hallway, most were from small area towns fire departments. I could tell because their jackets said so. They are usually the ones who go out in the storms and keep an eye out for the rest of us. Even with all of today’s weather tools and technology, there is still nothing better than eyes on the weather locally. All the people in the room with me were all volunteers, it made me proud to know all of these people cared about their local communities.

We sat in a small classroom with theater style seating. The seats were uncomfortable and about halfway through I think my buns fell asleep. There was a little tray thing on the side of the seats that the people next to me had put up to set their notebooks on but I had no idea how they worked and didn’t want to cause a spectacle in front of everyone there. I used my lap to take notes, often poking holes in my paper.

The room was very quiet as we all waited for the hour and a half presentation. They announced we were free to come and go during the presentation as they were not going to stop for a break during it. Thank goodness I had stopped by the lady’s room before I entered the classroom. I’m always very self-conscious about leaving a room during any type of presentation and will risk bladder explosion not to have to do so.

I always feel a little strange sitting in a college classroom, because I never did so as a young person. I know my kids would find this kind of room familiar for lectures, and they would have known how that little tray thing popped right up, but I felt odd sitting there. I looked around the room and most of the people attending were men, most had on work clothes, but there were also a few women scattered throughout and one couple that looked about ten years older than me, so I didn’t feel like I was the oldest one there.

The training began with an overview of the basics and I felt at home with these things. How to report hail, never describe it as marble size. Various types of watches and warnings. Where to look in storms for possible tornadoes, typical time of day severe weather breaks out.

Then he started to ramp up the information, talking about cyclonic this and that and all kinds of big weather terms that my brain was suddenly scrambling to try to understand and comprehend. People around me were intently listening so I assumed they were understanding all of this. I nodded my head occasionally hoping I too would look like I was getting all of this. I did notice the lady sitting in front of me kept reaching into her purse and was eating candy, so I’m guessing she was on equal footing with me. I felt a bit more encouraged.

He went through many slides showing various types of storms and supercells and what they call each type of supercell and whether it’s left or right cyclonic or splits and on and on. These terms by the way may or may not be accurate as I am telling the information as my brain took it in.

We watched a few videos where people had stayed put and continued taping the tornado even though after a while it was obvious it was going to hit them. I wanted to yell “RUN” but knew it wasn’t appropriate and the entire time I wondered why? As much as I love a good storm and all the fascinating parts of it, I would not just stand there while a tornado was bearing down on me. I do understand the strange allure of a tornado but safety first, always.

At the end of the class the candy eating lady in front of me piped up and announced she had photos on her phone of a shelf cloud and I could feel everyone in the room roll their eyes. I’m pretty sure they all did too. There is always at least one like her at every training session. I also felt like my intelligence level in the room just advanced a few steps above hers.

Out in the parking lot I was relieved to see there was no ticket on my car window and my car was locked, as I couldn’t remember if I’d locked it or not and was worried about that the entire time I was in the meeting. When I got home I uploaded the latest weather reporting app for spotters and set my notes and handout aside.

I realized that even though most of the lecture and terms were way over my head, I did come away with some very useful knowledge. I know where NOT to be watching from when a severe storm is approaching. I know you do NOT stand and continue filming when a tornado is coming at you. I know you DON’T try to drive your car through a huge supercell storm hoping there is not a tornado hiding inside that curtain of rain. I know that a lot of tornados are wrapped inside heavy rain and very hard to see. I know that 19 is the state record for number of tornadoes spawned from one supercell.

While I may not understand all the science terminology and all the radar charts, I think I can be helpful in keeping an eye out for my local communities. Next time the sky goes dark in the west, just know that I am probably standing outside keeping an eye out for shelf clouds, rotation, hail. I’m also taking lots of photos, but I promise you, if I see a tornado, I’m heading to the basement.

Until next time….Toni

There are only a couple of foods that I bake well. Sugar cookies and pizza are two of them, ok they are probably the only two I do well. Martha S. I am not. I’m not fussy enough for baking with all the annoying measuring involved and I am not a math genius.

I usually only bake sugar cookies for Christmas and then it’s a big production on my part. Last year I miscalculated the doubling of the ingredients (math problems) and ended up with twice the amount of butter required, which ended up in melted looking cookies. We tossed those and started over.

After that disaster I made myself a printed recipe showing both the regular recipe and the recipe doubled, so all I had to do was be able to read. Much better!

When I attempt to bake my kitchen and I both end up looking like we have been hit with a flour bomb dropped from five feet overhead and exploding all over everything. I don’t know how or why it always happens, but it does. Luckily it does not effect the taste of the end product.

My sugar cookies are one of the only things that my husband actually prefers over everyone else. There is no secret to it, it’s an old B. C. recipe and the frosting I use came out of her book as well. I’ve been using that recipe for over 40 years.

My pizza recipe is a basic recipe from long ago that I began adding to it and tweaking it until I had it just the way I wanted it. Since I’m not fussy at measuring, it often comes out a bit different each time, and once in a while it’s a flop, but I’m ok with that.

I used to never share my recipe with anyone, but as I’ve aged I’m a little more relaxed in sharing some of my tips. I thought at one time I was going to own a restaurant, or a food truck, and make my pizza’s for everyone. There is less likelihood at this age that I will be able to do that, so I’m relaxing a bit on my rules.

Pizza is one of the few foods that while it’s very labor intensive I love to make it. It used to be something I did with my children and their friends, and now that they are grown many of them still have fond memories of my pizza, which makes me smile. It’s a joy I now share with my grandkids. I hope someday they will recall the fond memories of making homemade pizza with their grandma. Mission accomplished in my baking world.

Until next time….Toni

I enjoy riding on a train for the most part. Amtrak is the only choice here in the states and it typically has been a safe ride.

I recently had tickets to go to Denver, CO, back to visit my little grandson Willie, who was our daughter Torri’s little guy.

Due to a couple of recent Amtrak rail crashes, I will admit I was a little nervous about this train ride, but as a minister once told me, you don’t put your faith in the pilot, or in this case the engineer, you put it in Jesus. So faith firmly in the right place I was ready for my trip.

I was going to Ottumwa station this time as I could avoid the rush hour traffic I always end up in by going to the Osceola station. It was about a 2 ½ hour drive almost straight south and all on two-lane highway.

On this drive, I was usually the only car on the highway and only passed two semi-trucks along the route, so it was a beautiful stress-free drive.

The Ottumwa station is like all of them, on the outskirts of the city and not in a particularly “scenic” area. The station had apparently been turned into a museum, so all of the previous places in the nice parking lot for Amtrak were now signed for museum goers only. I’m guessing the museum probably never needs more than two or three spaces, but they didn’t ask my opinion. I was not sure where to park, so luckily, this station is attended, as many are not, and I was able to call them and ask where the parking space was for Amtrak.

I was directed to the other side of a building that sat next to the Amtrak station/museum and behind it was a gravel area that also served as the parking lot. He actually told me to look for the broken-down RV that sat in the back of the lot. I parked my SUV and ate my chicken strips that I had picked up at a fast food place along the way. I was about an hour early, so no rush.

About twenty minutes before the train was set to arrive, I grabbed my suitcase, two bags and my purse and slugged through the snow over to the sidewalk that ran parallel with the tracks and went and sat inside the station.

The attendant was behind the window, so I went up and asked him if we needed to check in as they used to do that. He replied no, and said they’d announce the trains arrival.

I don’t know if he got busy talking to the two guys that were in the little office with him, but the train pulled up with no announcement, so the eight of us in the station made our way out to the train platform, followed by the attendant.

Getting onto the train was tricky at this station as the platform was a lot lower than the train, so a yellow metal step is placed down for you to step up on. The conductor had placed it a bit far from the train itself, so I was trying to balance my two bags and purse while getting up onto the step. I was trying to step across the considerable space to the train with bags in hand and a bad left arthritic knee, which is also my dominant leg. The conductor did at least heft my one suitcase into the train for me.

Let me pause and tell you what was in my bags. My grandson Willie used to come to our house a lot, especially after his mom, our daughter, passed away when he was just 4 ½. I had brought some of his toys here to our house for him, plus the two of us had collected some others at area garage sales. He now felt settled enough in his new home and new family in Colorado, so he asked me if I might bring along most of his toys. Of course I would.

My suitcase was half filled with castle blocks and knights, plastic army figures, and Minecraft figures we’d found. There was literally little room for my clothes, so I packed lightly and luckily leggings are now in style.

The other two bags held various small toys, Minions, Ugly Pets, a coloring book, and more small toys, a bag with my knitting projects and a pair of shoes. It all weighed a ton, but whose weighing anything at a train station.

The train car only had one other passenger on it and she got off at the next stop. For most of the night I had the entire car to myself. It was heaven. The car was on the cool side that night which was great for sleeping and I had brought along a small pillow this time to help make the seats a more comfortable place to lay across. It helped somewhat, but I still haven’t found the perfect solution. I really need to figure out how to pack a full body pillow.

Getting off the train in Denver station is an easy task as the height of the platform matches the height of the train, so you simply step off. I walked what seems like a half mile to Union Station and went to a place I’d seen online called Snooze for breakfast. It would be a couple hours before my former son-in-law could pick me up, so this seemed like a great idea.

Usually I just grab a cup of overpriced but delicious coffee at a little shop inside the station called Pigtrain, but thought I’d go for the whole breakfast bit this journey.

I chose the regular breakfast which included a couple of eggs (sunny side up please) bacon, hash browns and toast. I got a vanilla latte to go with that and asked if I might substitute my hash browns for one blueberry pancake. He said yes, but there would be a small up-charge. Small up-charge ended up being four dollars.

When my breakfast came it was HUGE! It looked great and the single pancake took up an entire small platter all on its own. As I began to tuck into my food, I soon noticed many flaws. The egg was very under-cooked and had runny whites that I slid off to one side. The bacon was on the tough side, like it had just been reheated. The pancake, while delicious was ice cold and the round of butter on top didn’t even melt. The coffee was ok, but for the price of it, was in a very tiny cup. The total plus tip was almost $25.00. Last time I will do that.

I ate what I could and asked for a box for most of the pancake and the bacon. I knew someone would finish it. I went and sat on a big comfy couch in the hotel/station lobby waiting for my ride. There was no sign of the usual crabby hotel attendant who goes around the room constantly giving people disgusting looks and making you sit up, move your bags/feet/purse. I could relax for a while.

One thing you see a lot of at a train station is all walks of life gathered together in one small area. There were people who looked homeless walking next to business looking people in suits and business attire. You can always spot the Amtrak travelers as we are the ones hauling our luggage everywhere behind us, including into the restrooms as there is no where to store your things while you wait for the train.

I was picked up and taken to visit my grandson and his new family in Castle Rock, just a bit south of Denver. We had a great time together over the next few days, and then Sunday morning I had a big decision to make due to the impending weather in Iowa. Funny how weather a couple states away can impact your travel plans.

I was supposed to get back on the train to go home on Monday evening, but Iowa was expecting freezing rain Monday night and Tuesday morning. My original ticket would have me arrive in Ottumwa on Tuesday morning, just in time to be on ice covered roads. I can drive through a lot of bad weather, snow storms, thunder storms, fog, tornado weather, sleet/hail but not ice.

A Sidebar:

One winter when driving home from Torri’s in Wisconsin, the weather suddenly changed to freezing drizzle/freezing rain just on the west side of Dubuque where it is very hilly and deep ditches.

I felt a bump on the rear of my car and still wonder if the car who passed me had touched my rear bumper, because my car suddenly went into a 360° spin. I was able to keep from hitting any other cars and managed to turn it to head straight into the ditch I was fast approaching and suddenly was airborne!

My car landed on all four tires and broke the axels and slid just short of crashing into a stand of trees. My airbag did not deploy, but I had a very sore shoulder the next day from my seatbelt holding me safely in place.

A nice lady (who told me she was a nurse on the way home) stopped on the shoulder of the road above and came all the way down into the ditch to see if I was ok and to let me know she had called it in. I waited in my car for the sheriff to arrive after reassuring her I was fine.

The sheriff helped me jump down out of my car and climb up the steep hill and opened the back door of his vehicle. It was the first and I hope the last time I ever sit in the back of a squad car.

He asked where my cell phone was and I told him it had been in my purse. He went down to my vehicle and after a while came back with my purse, which had spilled onto the floor with my phone laying on the mat. He asked me to unlock my phone which I did willingly as I knew he was checking to see if I had been on my cell phone, and I had not.

After checking it and being satisfied that I was not texting and driving he handed it back to me. He went outside to direct the tow truck and an ambulance showed up and had me get inside so they could make sure I was indeed alright. They both told me I was probably lucky my airbag did not deploy. That does not give me a sense of comfort.

The sheriff and tow truck driver both commended my driving skills in pointing my car straight for the ditch, thereby avoiding what would surely have been a roll over down the hill. I told them some show I had seen long ago talked about that very thing and for whatever reason, it came to me in those split seconds. After being checked by the paramedics, I was back in the sheriff’s car and he drove me back into town to a nearby hotel to stay the night. I called my family to say I was fine, but the car not so much. Jay made plans to come pick me up in the morning.

The roads were now deemed impassible, and all snow plows had been pulled off the road. Ever since then, I am not a fan of icy roads.

Back to the train ride:

I made the very hard decision to call Amtrak and change my ticket to Sunday night, instead of Monday night. I was not happy with Amtrak as I had just checked an hour earlier to make sure there were still tickets available on that day and it showed there were and they were at the same price I had payed for my original ticket.

When I called the agent, she told me the tickets were now $96 higher. I told her I had just checked online, and she would not budge on the price. I was not happy at all.

I thought about it and figured if I kept my original ticket and ended up in Ottumwa with icy roads and travel not recommended I’d be paying for a hotel room for the night anyway, so I opted to pay the additional money and changed my ticket. The hardest thing was having to explain to a seven-year-old why his grandma was leaving a day early. I told him grandma wanted to arrive home safely, so I could come and visit him again, and told him I owed him an extra day the next visit.

We spent the day all together in Colorado Springs walking and climbing, well they climbed, I walked, through the Garden of the Gods park which is absolutely beautiful and free and dog friendly. It was a gorgeous day out and we only needed t-shirts. I highly recommend it to everyone.

I packed my things up when we got back to their house and was taken to the train station after lots of hugs and teary good-byes. It’s always hard for me to leave any of the grand-kids, I wish they all lived nearby and I never get to see them enough.

My wait at the station was short as they started boarding the train about a half an hour before it was set to leave. I was pleasantly surprised to be offered a ride on the tram car that usually only takes handicapped and very elderly people to the train, but there was only one other person who was riding, so I guess I looked elderly enough to warrant a ride. It was wonderful not having to pull my suitcase for that half a mile trek especially after having walked all over hills and mountains all day. My short little legs and bad knee are not geared for hilly or long travel.

I was taken right up to the car I would be on and got onboard and into the lower level car I was ticketed for. I saw there was only one other lady on board and my heart was once again full of glee! How had this good luck happened twice?

I started to go back and sit in the other very last seat across from her as those seats are my favorites, no one walking past your seat all night long. She said to me, “wouldn’t you rather sit up front?” I will admit I was a little taken aback, but she seemed kind of fidgety and I thought maybe she wanted to sit alone in the back. I started to put my things on the next seat up and more people started coming into our car. Then suddenly she asked me if I’d like to sit back there, where I was originally going to sit. She apologized for her earlier comment. I think I must have looked like an okay choice to sit across from after all.

I moved into that back seat as others began to file in. So far it was all women. A few sat together and a few had double seats like myself. In total there were two rows of double seats or room for twelve people. Our lady car attendant came in and announced we’d all have to partner up as a family of five were coming onto our car and would like to sit together.

After she left our car, a general rumbling went up and musings about how young the kids would be and how noisy. It is hard enough to catch a couple of hours of sleep anywhere in coach on a train, but crying and noisy kids don’t make it any easier.

The lady across from me and I decided we would double up when the time came, but for now we both stayed where we were. Close to departure time, one younger man came into our car and we now only had four seats available. Our attendant came back in and we inquired about the family, which she told us they had gone on the other lower level car. I think there was a collective sigh of relief.

During the entire trip, both the lady across from me and I had a double seat to ourselves. The elderly lady in front of her offered up a prayer of safe travel for all of us before the train left the station and we all chimed in with Amen. That was another first on a train.

The young man’s family was outside the train waving good-bye as we started to leave. so all of us ladies leaned over and waved good-bye to them as well. It turned out to be a fun group of with everyone chatting about this and that and sharing laughs along the way. Best group of strangers I’ve traveled with so far.

Soon the train lights were dimmed with the announcement of quiet time, so we all plugged in our headphones, and watched or listened to our various electronic devices and settled in for the night.

About midnight I woke up sweating as our car felt like it was 90° and I noticed others were awake and looked hot as well. I went out of our car and stood on the platform between the cars where it was cooler. We soon came to a small town stop and when the conductor came down to let out the few passengers I asked if he could turn down the heat for us.

When I went back in the car everyone said thank you except the lady who was across from me. She was sound asleep and under two heavy blankets! I had learned earlier she was a nurse and was vegan. Apparently, she also had no body fat which the rest of us in the car had plenty of and the heat was stifling.

I got into Ottumwa station at 9:00 a.m. right on time. It was foggy out as I made my way from the train to my car with much lighter luggage and only one other bag and my purse. I found a local Starbucks in a Hy-Vee store not too far away and got a breakfast sandwich and white chocolate mocha latte to go. Just as good of a breakfast at less than half the price of the one in Denver.

The drive home was long, foggy and either drizzling or full out raining all the way to Waterloo. It was so great to get back safely. I stopped at a grocery store in Waterloo to grab a couple of things before finally getting home.

My dog Kutter was there to greet me and he was so happy mom was back home. My husband Jay said Kutter had gone and laid on my bed every night while I was gone. What a sweet pup.

I let everyone know I made it home okay. That night we did have freezing rain and it continued into the morning causing bad roads and most of the schools to cancel. I was sad I had to end my visit a day early, but so thankful God helped me make the right decision and got me home safe and sound.

Until next time….Toni

My "best laid plan", to borrow the quote, was to start writing a blog again right before Christmas. Since you are not reading this until mid-January or after, you are seeing just how well those plans worked out. That’s my life in a nutshell.

This year it was the flu or something like it. I’m not sure if what I had is classified as the flu or just an “upper respiratory infection”. That’s what the second doctor who saw me called it. Yes, I said second doctor, as in I saw two different doctors within 4 days.

Here is the timeline:

December 28th we had our family Christmas. It didn’t go as planned as some of the grand-kids were ill but we did our best. You can read all about it in Christmas Part 1 and Part 2. I had also made several trips into town earlier that week gathering food and wrappings to celebrate our Christmas. A lot of people in town were hacking and coughing around me and I did my best not to breathe in their germs. Apparently, I failed.

December 30th, I became ill. Upper respiratory coughing, hard to breathe, stuffed up sinuses. I began chugging water (I am NOT a water drinker by choice, so this was a challenge) and resting a LOT! (I excel in resting!)

January 2nd was my 63rd birthday! My “best laid plans” were that I was going to go to town to the movie theater and watch 4 movies! It was a Tuesday which meant it was $5 movie day! I had planned to start with the new Star Wars movie in the new dream lounger seat theater, then see Jumanji, Finding Our Father, and finishing up with Downsizing. I thought that seemed like a fun day at the movies for only $20. Somewhere in there I would leave and grab some chicken bites nearby and return for more movies. I love movies!

None of this happened. I was down and out sick on my birthday. I was achy, had no energy, no appetite, just felt rotten. Surprisingly I rarely run a fever, which when I did go in to both doctors, my temperature was normal. It makes it hard because they often look at me like I’m not really sick. Apparently having a fever is a sign.

The next day, January 3rd, my right ear became painful and since I’ve been plagued with earaches since childhood I knew this was not going to end well. I decided to drive into town and visit the local urgent care. The first one I drove up to appeared to be closed, so I drove a few blocks over and went to the other one in town.

I only had to wait a few minutes which I thought odd, usually those places are very busy this time of year. I was led back into a room by a nurse. She took my temperature, normal, and left the room. I thought it odd she did not take my blood pressure, but I’m not a nurse, so what did I know.

A youngish male doctor came into the room, looked into my right ear and said yes, I had fluid behind my eardrum. He looked at my throat, jotted down a few notes and told me to go buy some NyQuil and Flonase. I had thought he would prescribe an antibiotic because of my earache, but again, I’m not a medical professional.

I stopped at my local drugstore and got the NyQuil but passed on the sinus spray as it usually just makes my sinuses more irritated. In case you are wondering, I got the cherry flavored one.

That night I woke up about 2 a.m. and was in a lot of pain with my right ear. It kept me awake for hours! The next morning, I called the urgent care place and let them know that my ear was more painful and also draining some, so a full blown ear infection. I also told them the antibiotic I know I can use as I am allergic to several. The nurse said they would call one in to my drug store.

I sent my husband off to the drug store and he returned with a $75 prescription of an antibiotic I’d never heard of or used.

Now, in the world of "normal" people this probably is not an issue, but in my world of high anxiety issues and probable PTSD it’s a HUGE problem.

For two days I tried to talk myself into just taking the medicine and could not. I was terrified I may be allergic to it. So of course, my symptoms got worse and spread into my right eye, then my left ear, then my left eye. In just a couple of days I looked like a two-year-old with a bad cold, goo coming out of my eyes, nose and ears. It was not a pretty sight.

I decided I needed to get MY antibiotics, the one I know I’m not allergic to. I went back into town to the first urgent care place I was going to stop at but thought they were closed that first day. This time I walked up to the door and saw a sign posted on it saying they had moved their office into a new building further down the street. Best laid plans once again rearing its ugly head. Why me?

I drove further down the street to this wonderful new medical building. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot which in an odd way gave me comfort. I walked in and filled out the electronic pad with all my information and went and sat in the first waiting area. A very nice young lady called my name and I went and gave her all the details and she directed me to another waiting area. It didn’t take long, and I was called back into a room.

The nurse took my temperature, again normal and my blood pressure, very high! She was concerned and I explained to her that I have very high anxiety with anything medical so if she would like to wait a bit and take it again it usually settles down. She did, and it did. She looked like she was very relieved.

The doctor came in a few minutes after she left the room and told me I looked like crap. I instantly liked him. He was probably in his fifty’s and was very nice the entire time. I told him what had been going on and he confirmed all my symptoms. He assured me he would call in the antibiotic of my choice as it did the same exact thing as the unknown one that had been prescribed to me. I left feeling reassured in the medical system and made a mental note that this was now my favorite urgent care center.

My next big surprise was my drug store. After getting my antibiotic, which is only $20, I told the pharmacist what had happened with the first antibiotic which I had brought along to show him. He said he could take the other prescription and would destroy it for me as they can’t return prescriptions, which makes absolute sense. What surprised me however was that he refunded my husband’s card for the amount! In other words, they just took a loss of $75. In today’s world it is rare to find any place that is willing to lose any money in the name of customer satisfaction, let alone that much. I was shocked and pleased! All I can say is "God bless Walgreens".

The medicine helped. I’ll assume the mass quantities of water and rest helped as well and finally by the end of January, four weeks later, I started to feel better.

January 29th, I finally got to go see the new Star Wars movie. It was no longer in the nice dream lounger seat theater, but I was the only person in there at 10:00 a.m. It was worth the wait.

January 30th, I got to see the Jumanji movie with a friend of mine, also well worth the wait. I’m secretly in love with Dwayne Johnson as my children all know. Dwayne, if you are reading this, call me.

The month of January turned out to be a whole month of "the best laid plans" going awry. Lets see what February holds, there’s always hope.

Until next time….Toni

After a month of planning, prepping and decorating, I was finally ready for our Christmas! On the 26th of December I declared everything as done! Check marks were all made, cookies were all baked, menus were all planned, and supplies purchased.

The trees were all up and decorated, the spare bedroom (aka the kid’s playroom, aka my bedroom) was all ready with freshly laundered sheets and bedspreads. The presents were all wrapped and under the real tree in the living room.

My oldest son, Jason was set to arrive later that day with his family. Our youngest daughter Brittney and her two little ones were not able to join us as she had recently moved to Virginia. Our youngest son Josh and his family lived nearby. Grandson Willie, Torri’s little guy, was not able to be here this Christmas either. It was the first year not to have all of my family together since we lost Torri. Last year had been the first Christmas without her, but her son Willie had been here. This year there were even fewer that could come. Life is always a challenge, and we have to make joyful moments where we can.

I could relax for a few hours and enjoy the Christmas spirit of the house. I had turned on the lights on all of the various trees and was admiring my handiwork. My husband Jay had decided he would make broasted chicken for supper (yes, we have an actual genuine restaurant chicken broaster in our basement) so I was off the hook for supper! Small victories!

Jason and family arrived with smiles, suitcases and presents all bursting in the door at once. Within 5 minutes all the preparation, cleaning, organizing, making sure all the details were perfect were lost in the joy of children running through the house and adults bringing in packages and suitcases. Oh well. I had the joy of seeing my house at it’s finest for most of the day, and now family was here safe and sound and that’s what matters. I had also taken photos of each room as proof I had it all perfect for a while.

After supper (yes, in Iowa we farm folk still call it supper for the evening meal. Dinner is what you eat at noon and lunch is what you eat at 3:00 in the afternoon for your break.) the kids were to sleep in two plush sleeping bags on the bedroom floor – A 9-year-old and a 3-year-old – but it ended up the two of them slept in the bed with their mom and my son Jason slept on the couch. The best laid plans once again in my life…

The next day my son and I took his 3-year-old daughter with us to town, while her mom and her step-brother stayed home relaxing. We ran a few errands and picked up additional groceries needed for that night’s supper. We were having a chili cook-off of sorts. between our sons Jason and Josh and their dad, Jay. The plan was to take the chili to La Porte City to Josh’s newly purchased home. It was about a 30-minute drive from our house. Supper was to be the three chili soups and sub sandwiches and let the kids all play together in their heated garage.

Again, the best laid plans…my son Josh called in the afternoon to tell us that the kids were all sick at his house, his 2 girls and his fiancés 2 boys, so if it was alright they’d cancel tonight but come over the next day as planned for Christmas. I told him that was fine, and we’d see them tomorrow. In my head I was wishing now I had gotten my flu shot.

We were home by dinnertime (aka lunch) and I had gotten some smoked pork chops to make. I have a Jenn-Air stove so was going to grill them inside and make some potatoes to go with them. I had the chops grilling on the stove top and went into the living room to save a Christmas ornament from a grandchild when my I heard someone in the dining room say my pork chops were on fire.

I was not immediately alarmed by this because almost every time I cook on that grill something catches on fire. It’s usually just a tiny flare up that can easily be blown out. I came back into the kitchen to see flames leaping off my chops reaching the underside of my microwave!

My husband and son were attempting to put the fire out and had I grabbed some tongs and was attempting to save the chops from being totally crisped. Jay put a large cake roll pan over the top of the burners and we finally managed to get the fire out. Both smoke alarms in the kitchen and dining room were wailing and the grand-kids were looking at us with grave concern.

I reassured them that this too was a pretty normal and regular occurrence in my household. The good news was I had managed to save the pork chops and all but one were overly charred, which I ate, and the potatoes were also done, so we all sat down to eat before something else happened.

We decided to go ahead with making chili for supper that night only just Jason would be making his for us. While making his chili recipe, Jason had cooked some exotic chili’s (anything that does not come out of a box or a can is considered exotic at my house) in a pan and then poured the hot mixture into my blender. My blender is seldom used (ok, rarely ever used) and is one of those with a plastic top and rubber lid. Apparently pouring hot liquid into it caused the lid to warm and warp and while he was holding onto the top of it the plastic cap popped into the blender and was instantly ground into the mixture!

We looked at each other like now what? I suggested we might strain it through a tea strainer I had that had microscopic holes in it. That way we could get the flavor of the juices without any of the plastic shards. So, there we stood over the sink carefully straining and re-straining the liquid. The chili turned out great, the blender not so much.

The next morning was our Christmas day, starting with me making a big breakfast for everyone. It’s the one time I enjoy cooking. Josh and his crew showed up a bit late and the boys were still pretty sick. We made the best of it and had a nice time together. After dinner (noon meal for you city folk) we passed out presents and the kids had fun playing with their new toys. Light naps were had by both adults and kids and then we all enjoyed Jay’s homemade spaghetti for supper.

Josh and family headed for home afterward and the next day Jason and his family headed back to Missouri. Later as I walked around the house gathering up any left items and toys to give back to people, I was struck by the sheer silence of the house once again. I think our dog Kutter was thankful for it.

I would leave the Christmas trees and decorations up for a few more days and then put them all away again until next year. Next up was my birthday, and boy did I have big plans for that day!

Until next time…Toni

Christmas is one of my favorite holidays. Ok, probably my favorite, the next one is Easter. Both celebrate God’s unconditional love for us, in Christ’s birth and then His death and resurrection giving us hope for an eternal life. That’s powerful knowledge.

I’ll admit I go a bit overboard on the whole Christmas decorating thing. Over the years I have amassed an alarming amount of Christmas decorations, many of them handmade by myself or my four children, many given to me by friends or foreign exchange students we’ve had the privilege of having with us. Many were purchased at after Christmas sales, bargain stores or antique shops. The point is, I have a LOT of them.

I used to only have one large real Christmas tree each year that I would decorate with all the various decorations, the kids’ ornaments always having priority and they still do. Each year Jay, I and the kids would go to a Christmas tree lot and pick out a tree and watch Jay saw it down. Over the years that too dwindled as children left our home for theirs and now Jay just buys a local tree in town. He bases his decision on my size and shape, short and rounded.

A tradition I started with the birth of my first child was each year I would make or buy each child a new Christmas ornament and when they moved out of the house and started their own homes, each child got their box of Christmas ornaments to decorate their first Christmas tree. Once they were all out of the nest, it became a little more hit and miss each year as the family grew, and many of them started that same tradition for their children, one I have hoped they will carry on.

As years passed and my house grew in size and less in people living in it, I also began to collect a wide variety of artificial Christmas trees. Most were purchased at garage sales during the summers, and a few at after Christmas sales, until I finally had a Christmas tree for each room. I was in heaven!

Now the next task was organizing my ornaments so that I could make some type of a “themed” tree in each room. I don’t know why that seemed important, as my real tree is always my favorite and it is always a giant hodge podge of ornaments and lights. It started in my husband’s TV room, loosely called “the den” where I placed the first artificial tree with sports type ornaments on it, you know Santa fishing, a wooden fish, a hunting dog or two, various sports balls, etc. It was the fake Alpine style tree that is supposed to make your home look very woodsy I guess.

As I gathered in more artificial trees I started to collect more ornaments to go with the themes I had given to each room of the house. My bathroom has a nautical theme as I love ships and the oceans, so the tiny tree set in there also has that theme with shells for ornaments and Santa as a ship’s captain.

The kitchen of course has a tiny tree with little tea cups and coffee mugs, a tiny grater, and tiny cookie cutters on it. The dining room I went with a snowman tree as I had a lot of snowmen ornaments I’d collected over the years, and then I added small glass ball ornaments with each grandchild’s name on it so it is now called the grandchildren’s tree.

The laundry room was an unusual choice and I didn’t go for the obvious laundry day theme but went with penguins instead. It has a small white artificial tree with tiny Christmas balls with cute little penguins on it and I set my stuffed penguin in there beside it.

The main basement family room has a medium sized green artificial tree with a set of pool ball ornaments on it and little hearts I cut out from old music books. In the kids playroom aka guest bedroom, aka my bedroom is a tree made from felt with all felt ornaments on it that the grandkids can play with. This year I also added a “bird” themed tree to that room with beautiful bird ornaments I bought at a garage sale last summer. Some day that tree will go into my craft room if that ever becomes a reality.

The final tree I added this year was a medium sized green artificial tree I went and purchased after Thanksgiving when I discovered a sack of long forgotten ornaments in the living room closet where all of my seasonal decorations are stored (about 10 totes of just Christmas stuff, but who’s counting). The ornaments were from an antique store in Lake Mills, Wisconsin where I had lived with my daughter Torri while she was battling cancer. The ornaments were all a beautiful light peachy color or cream color and I set the tree on the small bookcase that sits in the living room entryway. It was a little tribute to Torri who also loved Christmas.

I started doing this decorating a couple of days after Christmas, hauling out tote after tote from the living room closet. As I did so the OCD or whatever it is in me, decided that it would also be a great time to go through all of the ornaments in each tote and all of the various decorations and get rid of the ones I no longer use or care for and organize the rest. This whole process literally took me weeks and by Christmas day I had just finished putting up the last decorations around the house.

All of the boxes and totes were still scattered across the front of the living room and I had family arriving in just a couple of days. I started to shove things into totes, and boxes, foregoing any organizing for the moment. One Christmas tote I emptied and put all of the normal living room decorations into with a note on top so after Christmas I could put them all back into their place. I shoved everything into the closet and shut the door.

Now the house cleaning ritual began, and I got my Christmas Holiday binder out and started checking off each task as I went. I was in full blown Christmas celebration mode now. Soon the house glistened, the gifts were all wrapped, the menu’s all planned, gifts were all mailed out to those who could not be with us. I had the agenda all figured out, what could possibly go wrong?

Until next time – Toni