Cabbage is Rolling!


I have the good fortune of coming from a family that manages to find humor in all of life’s crevices; the darkest, dirtiest, scariest recess can’t keep us down for too long, perhaps out of pride, or fear of falling apart, but we can usually laugh our way out of a tight spot.

Over the past week, I have been spending a lot of time in the hospital with my family, and when we were at our most tense, yet guardedly relieved after my father just came through 5 long hours of surgery, we stood in the ICU begging for a flutter of his eyes or a squeeze of the hand, when the voice on the intercom announced, “CABBAGE IS ROLLING! CABBAGE IS ROLLING!”

We looked at each other and started laughing. Did we hear that right? CABBAGE!?

CABG, or cabbage is apparently medical lingo for Coronary Artery Bypass Graft, so the intercom was simply alerting the nurses that another bypass patient was successfully coming out of surgery, while we are giggling like 12 year olds. We are a classy crew.

Irreverent, juvenile, and a little inappropriate? Maybe. But it felt good, and put our situation in perspective. Our triple cabbage, with a side of thoracic aneurism, is still alive, and that’s something to be pretty damn happy about, so we let the tension and fear slowly roll off with each chuckle and belly laugh.

This week has served up a good reminder to myself….no matter how tough it gets out there…embrace my inner 12 year old and look for rolling cabbages….they are there, even if it takes a while to find them.

Besides, I’ve always agreed with Maya.

“I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t laugh.”
― Maya Angelou

Flash Forward

I’ll post up some snaps of the holidays soon, but I need to keep things somewhat chronological.

While everyone is looking back at 2012, and looking forward to what 2013 will bring, I had the chance to glimpse forward 30 years, or so I can only hope. We went to spend a few days with my parents before Christmas, and during that time, I got to crash a party..kind of.

My mom and 15 of her closest girlfriends get together a few times throughout the year to celebrate birthdays, and the holidays are no exception. This year, a couple of ladies had to miss out, so I somehow wangled an invitation. I’ve been hearing about this gig for years, so I was in! This younger generation interloper was ready to try and keep up these energetic ladies!

Because these are wizened and sensible women, they rented a limo to drive the majority of party guests to the lovely country home of this year’s hostess. There is wine involved after all.

It was every bit as cacophonous as I expected, with many talking over each other wielding insults, compliments, and all around chaotic merriment. We had a gorgeous lunch with champagne, a crackling fire, and a communal present swap where the rules had to be explained… Every. Single. Turn. It doesn’t matter they’ve been doing this every year for a few decades. The Golden Girls don’t have ANYTHING on this bunch.

Despite the fact a significant amount of time was spent discussing various forms of cancer, who died recently, who has been diagnosed with any of the dizzying variety of ailments and diseases…they laughed until they cried. This is their world now. This crew refers to MD Anderson like we refer to the grocery store. As friends, spouses, and loved ones drop away, one by one, they still have each other.

I can only hope that I am lucky enough to have that kind of support system in 30 years. Through multiple husbands, children, mastectomies and boob jobs, these ladies inspire me in many ways, and I was grateful for the chance to witness it in all it’s tipsy, giggly, somber, yet sweet glory. Thanks for having me.

Catching Up and Slowing Down

Do I still have a blog? Somedays, I’m not so sure. Here’s what’s been happening via Instagram.

We had some dear old friends in town a couple of weeks ago, and we spent hours here until the candles all burned down…we miss them!

My Christmas Cactus bloomed in November!

I finished my ceramics class and am really looking forward to next semester. I have found a teacher I really like, and respect, and I am learning so much more than I did in my last class.

I found some sparkly shoes on überclearance I am now referring to as my Holiday Hooker Shoes.

Holiday decorating will begin this weekend, preceded by the bumping, tripping and cursing involved in getting the bins down from the attic.

Every year, it’s the same. I start off well. I picked up a few things this Summer and Fall, and I’ve been trying to get all my errands and shopping done so that I can be finished by this weekend and start wrapping.  But, it never seems to work out that way.

I lay out what we have for each child, and find some glaring hole of inequity that I somehow missed. To further complicate the gift equality spectrum, Thing One’s birthday is during the holidays. I get stressed and grumble about how lucky they are to have shoes and a roof over their heads….ungrateful….blah, blah….spoiled…blah blah…..and then my little inner rant is over and I get on with it.

We recently got one of these……

….and I am reminded how lucky I am to have this kid around to hate me when he gets sent to his room. While I am not religious at ALL, quite the opposite…it brings this to mind.

The message translates loud and clear to my godless soul. I’m working on a zen holiday season. When annoying things happen, I will remember the plate.

…..remember the plate……

Our first batch of holiday gift candy FAILED. The chocolate didn’t temper properly and is too soft and gets all over you. Tastes great, but we have to start over. I hope we have enough packaging supplies to cover the fail…..

….remember the plate….

Four miles from the car, this happened to Thing One’s bike. Stripped threads and no tools meant it wasn’t going back on, so the CC and I took turns pedaling back all four miles on one pedal. 

…..remember the plate……

See, I’ve had some opportunities to test out zen holiday 2012 already, and all is well.

I think this Santa needs to remember the plate too, poor guy.