Yesterday we helped Colleen pack up for her move to North Idaho. It went pretty quickly with 7 of us working. I haven't known Colleen for as long as some of the others, like Jodi and Jaenne, and Mary (who works with Colleen), but I will really miss her. She is a quietly humorous person; very intelligent, full of interesting biology facts, great with her dogs, really fun to be around. She is moving north of Sandpoint; beautiful country, not yet yuppified, nor scary white (anymore), yet still close enough to a good beer and bookstores to be reasonable. I envy her the new adventure. I hope we stay in touch.
Could be mine by next weekend! Scary. I will be poor again. Not as poor as I was 20 years ago, raising Cienna on a bakery workers income, sharing the dog's vaccines with her because we were too poor to afford a pediatrician….Cienna is vaccinated against Bordatello and Rabies, and lately giardia, but not measles or smallpox or tetanus or whooping cough. I've never had the heart to tell her this. OR that the shots I give her still, (consistency is important in disease control) when she comes home every year, are NOT the same as the ones her friends received as children in real physician's offices. She thinks that our family doctor is a kind old-school* elderly gent named Dr. Fosters-Smith, who is an agoraphobic. And that I received a nursing certificate thru the mail in the 1980s and am his assistant. I do this for The Love of Family Medicine AND the United States Postal Service. She has NEVER had worms.
NOT REALLY. BUT this is the sort of story my husband's mother comes up with, confusing details and Lifetime television movie plots into our lives; she passes these strange tales along far and wide. Recently she was telling people that: Cienna was born with a cleft pallet and, instead of nursing her, I had to dip a rag in milk (!) and squeeze the nutrition into her mouth. Rag drippings. For the first 2 years of her life. Where did this come from? Is there any seed of truth? In America? No. I nursed Cienna for the first year of her life with my admittedly rag-like bosoms, but her palette has always been…uh….uncleaved?
The second rumor that came back to me, also hilarious, but easier to understand due to my notorious love of my dogs and sketchy kitchen undertakings: I am feeding my family on a diet of raw meat. Chicken necks, thighs with bones and skin, gizzards and hearts, chunks of beef. Eric is 6'4" and weighs 200 pounds. How many chicken necks do you suppose it would take to fill him up? Carlos, also substantial in size, prefers cheese and carbs to meat. I can't even imagine the look on his face if I handed him a plate of gizzards.
My mother-in-law is endearingly unbalanced. Since reading my now defunct blog, I am Eating My Husband's Soul, she fears me. In that blog, which was really just a spoof on the popular Good Wife blogs, I had my husband repeatedly molested by my best friend's well-dressed monkey, named Andre. I had a great time writing that blog, for well over a year, to huge success. But I shut her down when Eric begged me to please do something before his mother had him kidnapped and rehabilitated, and re-released into a better home and garden.
Anyway, sounds like I'll soon be able to christen the new Greenleaf Center for Carnivore Depravity, with a rag dipped in champagne. Money doesn't matter. It's all about Helping People.
*Old School – This is a great term to throw around when you don't want to go into vivid actual detail surrounding some suspiciously half-assed or outmoded way of doing something.