First of all, if you’re a praying person, please take a minute to send a prayer in behalf of Klove, Chicory, and Sassafrass. Klove had surgery this morning for what I’m frantically hoping is an ancient World Record-worthy gigantic booger that has gotten stuck up in her sinuses and grown to gargantuan proportions and isn’t a tumor and isn’t cancerous and is nothing at all to worry about. Regardless of whether it’s a ginormous booger, a pearl, a jelly bean, or something far more serious, their family needs your prayers, or your positive thoughts, or whatever type of thing you do in situations like this.
The other family who really needs some positive thoughts or prayers is Clover and her family. It looks as though her son is going to be in the hospital over Christmas, something we were all hoping wasn’t going to be the case. On the positive side, he probably will not need a liver transplant. Yay! On the not-so-positive side, he may end up having to go to a hospital in Houston to have his spleen removed and a shunt installed to get the blood flowing where it’s supposed to. I’ve tried calling Clover this morning to find out when I can take Christmas dinner over there, but just got her voice mail. I’ll try again shortly.
Liz and I were at her apartment yesterday. We’d hoped to finish clearing and cleaning, but it didn’t happen. We did get a lot of the clearing finished, and some cleaning done. Salvation Army is coming on Saturday to pick up the furniture and assorted household items that she is donating, so we are planning to finish things up on Saturday. It is definitely do-able, and we will both be extremely glad to be done with that task.
When I weighed in on Saturday morning, I was down another 2.2 pounds, for a total of 34.6 pounds. I’ve had people at work tell me that I look slim and sexy. It’s nice to hear, and I will admit that I feel slim and sexy. However, with another 96 pounds to go to hit my official Weight Watchers goal, I am FAR from slim! I keep promising pictures but haven’t managed to get any taken yet. I was all set to get Joe to take one of me the night we went to see Barenaked Ladies. I had just barely snapped one of him when a security guard was in my face, ordering me to put my camera away because no photos were allowed. I asked if we could take just one more photo, pointing out that it wasn’t even going to be of the stage, and the band wasn’t out, etc., but she refused. It really pissed me off later on when, during the show, hundreds of people were taking photos and she didn’t bother to stop any of them.
Wendy commented on how much my avatar looks like Chicory’s. I think we have the same hairdo. My hair is a titch longer and fuller, but they didn’t have a hairdo that comes any closer to mine. And my hair is reddish brown, but the red is too red, so I chose the brown as I think it’s closer. Wendy also said she thought I had blonde hair. I’ve never had fully blonde hair, although I have, from time to time, had a lot of blonde highlights at Joe’s request. Let me state here that I look absolutely hideous with blonde hair, and I think I have finally convinced Joe of that fact. I look great with red hair, or dark brown hair. I look horrible with light brown or blonde hair.
I don’t know if you can read the writing on my avatar’s tee shirt, but it says Happy Hanukkah. Joe and I aren’t Jewish, but we do celebrate Hanukkah every year in honor of Joe’s stepfather, who was. We have a lovely menorah, and our candles this year are just lovely. It gives me warm fuzzies every night during Hanukkah when we say the blessing and light the candles, and just watch as they burn down to nothing until the candles are gone. (The warm fuzzies are definitely gone the next day, however, when I have to pry the cold hardened wax out of the menorah so we can put the candles in that night. I’m going to buy an oil menorah next year, I swear!) Anyone who knew Dad Farber loved him, and anyone who didn’t get to know him missed out on knowing one of the funniest, warmest, wisest men who ever walked this earth. I swear I never met a man I loved as much as my father-in-law. So we honor Dad Farber every year at Hanukkah as much as we honor the Lord, and remember the miracle that happened so long ago. I was planning to have guests over on Friday night, and cook a lovely dinner with latkes and roasted root vegetables and a slow-cooked London broil (my attempt to mingle tradition with the WW core program). However, I’ve spent so much time and energy helping Liz that my house has completely fallen by the wayside. (That’s not to imply that Liz is a power-hungry slave driver who’s been cracking the whip; we’ve just been on a deadline trying to get her moved out before the lease is up and wanting to get it finished before Christmas. And she even kindly let me bail last week, and I went home every day after work and pretty much crashed in front of the telly and watched How Do I Look?) So instead we’re meeting at Logan’s Roadhouse and having steak and baked potatoes. Shame on me, I know. But it’ll still be a good meal with good friends and family, and we’ll have fun.
Gotta run. Remember to send love to those in need!