A funny thing happens when you have an illness like lupus. It keeps life, well, interesting. It is interesting for the person who has the illness, it it is equally interesting for anyone else in your life. Beloved always wanted to be a doctor, of a type. He got a PhD and had a lovely life doing what he wanted, traveling as he wished.
Then he met me. Suddenly his life became, well, complicated. Travelling when he wanted was out of the question because sometimes lupus doesn’t let you just travel. So, if he wanted me to join him, it would become a bit more of a scheduling and wait and see deal.
He also ended up learning a lot of stuff from a medical standpoint. He jokes that he has become an unofficial doctor with all he’s learned medically. Heck, he has come to accessorize the house around an IV pole and such. He’s learned that some of my medication must be kept cool. He’s gotten ideal at reorganizing the refrigerator, dealing with needles and such.
He’s adapted to the me who can do things one moment and the next be left unable to do half of what I could before. He’s adjusted to the whole ‘the sun is trying to kill me’ approach I have to sunlight. He’s had to adjust to the girl he knew suddenly not looking like the girl he knew. He’s adapted to my ups and downs with doing things, for pain, and all the rest.
So if he wanted interesting, he got that in spades with me!
Four-feet was in need of a little something to chew on, so a trip to a pet store was on order. A store that would welcome the four-footed one in so she could pick out her favorite chew item. A store that would have said items at her level so she could take her own, or in her wildest dreams, more than one!
After finding a store that met those requirements we were off. Four-feet was a girl on a mission. It may have had to do with the discussion Beloved and I had about getting her T-R-E-A-T-S. She knows this word. Not just when we say it, but apparently when we spell it, based on her determination and urgency. Who knows what else she knows and can spell!
She was everywhere in that store, with the employees gushing over her and Beloved getting his arms filled. We came for the one item and left with one item several times over. And one very satisfied dog.
Of course the trouble with shopping with four-feet is that she knows what we bought. So even though she got her chew item once we got home, she waited for the other stuff to be provided as well. When these items weren’t on offer, she opted to pout and ignore us. She ignored the chew item, instead just sitting and staring at her bed.
She remained that way until it was time to eat. Well, actually, she remained that way until the kibble hit her bowl because she does have her priorities after all. And after her kibble was consumed, she decided to come back to visiting is. Probably because she knew there were carrots on the table and she loves to get a few pieces of carrot when we have them. When the carrots were finished and no more items were on offer for her, four-feet went back to her chew item.
Sure, she is a girl who knows her mind. She is also a girl who knows her priorities and goals, and how to balance it all out. I’m not going to li, I am jealous of her skills with this!
Only in my household, do you find naked onions, turnips without dresses, and pantless bananas. The first time I heard about naked onions, I stood rooted in disbelief. It was the first time Beloved and I tried cooking together.
Naked onions, for the record, are onions that have been peeled. (You probably figured that out faster than I did.) Turnips without dresses are turnips that have had the tops trimmed. (Don’t ask. I’m just sort of along for the ride on this one!) As for pantless bananas, it’s not what you think. Thes are banans that have been removed from the bunch.
Beloved speaks many languages, which I admire. However, the phrases he comes up with can leave me shaking my head and looking for a translator.
He uses senior citizen tomatoes for his sauces. He gently fries infant peas which have been removed from their nests.
You can probably guess the tomatoes are old and the skin has started to wrinkle. The infant peas are young peas that have been taken out of their pods.
Living with Beloved is always an adventure and meals are never dull.
I love chocolate and peanut butter together. I don’t love milk chocolate, nor do I love sweet peanut butter. Beloved has been searching for a recipe that incorporates my love of peanut butter and chocolate without it being rather fattening. Oh, and he wants it simple too.
He spent a few days searching for just the thing and then gave up, deciding to do it his way. He used unsweetened applesauce in place of oil or butter. He used all-natural peanut butter, oat flour, a pinch of salt and a few dashes of sugar. He used the seeds of a vanilla pod and I don’t know what else. All I know is that it was delicious if not the most elegant thing to look at.
How delicious can a healthy version of a dessert be? Surprisingly good if you really must know. And no, there isn’t any left to share, but I’m sure he will make more again. I hope he continues to use good quality chocolate rather than the chips he had originally planned on using.
She arrived in a swirl of colorful skirts, a dark hat, and a multicolored cardigan one size too small. She didn’t so much walk into my room as she just kind of was there one minute!
She didn’t speak so much as she grunted and waved a handful of leaves at me. Not speaking the language, I wasn’t sure what she was saying or wanting me to do. She thrust dried leaves my way, pulled a cigar out of the depths of her voluminous skirts, and struck a match against her shoe.
This was unlike any doctor’s visit I had experienced in the past and I was sure it would be unlike anything I would experience again. How often does a doctor light up a cigar, and then blow the smoke on you, while insisting you fan yourself with the leaves? She continued the process until the cigar was a stub and the leaves had crumbled to nothing.
Just when I didn’t think it could become any more unusual, she scooped up some of the crumbled leaves, put them in a glass with water and swirled them around. Once she finished this, she dumped the water out and waited for the leaves to dry on the side of the glass.
The position of the leaves told her the next steps to healing me, which involved another cigar and smoke being blown around me. Healing takes all shapes and forms in the world. Not all of the way s can be understood.
Four-feet decided to bring me flowers when she came to visit me. Beloved didn’t put her up to it. He didn’t buy flowers and put them in her mouth to carry into my room either.
This was pure four-feet in her loving way. Okay, fine, she didn’t bring me flowers as much as she was in the middle of checking them out when Beloved made her come inside. Checking them out included seeing if they were good enough to eat.
Judging by her reaction once she was on my bed, the flowers were not to her liking, so she brought them to me. Slightly chewed, very well watered, and hard to recognize. It is the thought that counts though, right?
It isn’t every day this girl gets flowers. It is even rarer that I get freshly picked ones.
I tried to pick them up and put them in a glass of water, however, they were too well sampled. They were droopy and somewhat squished. Perhaps I will press them once they dry out. They will last longer that way anyway!
When in Rome, they say, do as the Romans do. When in a foreign country, immerse yourself into the culture, they say. How do you immerse yourself into the eating of animals you consider pets? Not me, I just couldn’t do it.
Beloved not only seems to have the constitution of a goat (as in seeing something, decided it might be food, eat it and have no issues), he seems to view life much like a goat. Anything can be consumed in a certain way. I guess life gets easier when you can do this.
Today, while I was resting from my last round of medication, he decided we should eat soup. Eating soup, according to him, doesn’t require thumbs. Foolish man that he is!
Beloved went to a local place, told them we needed soup to feel better. He came back with two different vats of soup. One had cute little dumplings, almost donuts, floating in it. The other had something whiteish and wavy in it. I tried a bit of the dumpling soup but discovered I wasn’t feeling like soup as the medication effects were still strong. He ate some of the other soup and then headed back out to get some tea and such while I rested with the four-footed one.
He stopped off to ask about the soup and discovered the dumpling soup was a bean soup with corn dumplings and a local rodent, and the other was tripe soup.
I think I will stick with the toast he made and settle for dipping my toes in the culture at this time.