I am not looking for my Bowling Ball!

Fat Sick and Nearly Dead

Few things in life are predictable.  Maybe daytime, nighttime and taxes.  I am seldom on time for anything.  That 's predictable .

Recently we went to O'Hare to pick up Meaghan's canines arriving from Germany in advance of her (40 day away) relocation and spent what was an Easter weekend with Greg and Annelise.  We skipped the Easter parts of the weekend as the unplanned mingled with planned.  The interesting part is we all came away and/or stayed in Chicago with a new objective.

Greg is an interesting character and had been for three years now (yes, years) trying to get us to watch a movie by Joe Cross (Australian) called FatSickAndNearlyDead.  So, as unplanned as it was;  we skipped church and embark on this journey to 'Juicy Town' where Joe traveled across the United States explaining micro and macro nutrients and his only "grip" was his Breville juicer.  Yes,  The clothes on his back, his rental car; with AC adapter, and his friend, "Joe Jr. Juicier."

The documentary was cheesy and corny cartoons with dynamic weight loss as Joe only drinks 80/20% RAW fruits and vegetable juices for what turns out to be 60 days.  He encounters "Joe Average, American skeptic" in every town and truck-stop along the way (and converts one wholeheartedly and convinces others which are not film-followed as closely.)  I sat in Greg's living room and turned from a "Doubting Thomas"  to then  "Paul from Saul."  (Okay, I wasn't that religious but this was Easter Sunday and I did need to get a little religion to ease my guilty pleasures  as I had ignored my Christian Easter Sunday duty conscious.")

Well, cut to the chase:  This is day three ("and I only committed to try 7 and maybe goal out at ten days. . .  that would be ideal") of juicing everything from apples, cucumbers, to fennel, add root beet, take out venous red scary root beet, carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, squash and zucchinis. My only steaks for the next meal will be the beefsteaks (in my) tomatoes!  Clean the pulp, skip freezing it or composing it. . . Compost. I think I just came up with a great idea!   And all this while I am the new adopted canine mother to two more barking, biting, squirrel chasing four-legged critters who are driving me to really want that forbidden alcoholic laced drink.

Need a cocktail?  I thinking, it might take several days;  but I can ferment cabbage naturally.  What does it take to harden apples to cider?

Greg recommended I diet-proof the house. I cannot do that.  There is just too much in condiments, frozen animal products,  Rudolph cheeses, oils, butters, process foods to ever be able to replace the comfort food which are my spoils of life which make my house feel like a warm fuzzy blanket surrounding my overweight bones on a still frozen April.  Never figured I would feel solace looking at a tall jar of seasoned infused extra virgin olive oil even if all the crusty bread had become squirrel food. Besides I am sure Ron is still drinking his liquid flax seed oil.

Go ahead and drink the flax seed oil, darling.  I have a need for Ron to sabotage himself in any way he can as dieting with a man is disheartening in and of itself.  In the past, I have had to get a three day start to even let him into my past diet plans.  A long time ago he was absolutely forbidden to ever diet when I was pregnant.  It is because men can lose weight thinking about the ball game reruns in their two-track otherwise "thinking about sex" minds.  The metabolism of the male testosterone driven sex purrs at a constant 180 mph.  Mine cruises at a hybrid 40 mpg.  Definition of weight lose for women is minimal calculated caloric intake multiplied (X) by fluid intake equals (=)"Try this again tomorrow,  sister."

But I am DOWN EIGHT POUNDS in two days and Ron is down four!

So bright and early this a.m., I did the only thing I could do.  As Greg, who is the best versed in this whole process and my volunteer to be a "Phone-Son-supporter; I called the "all American build-me-up-son" to get my fix of encouragement and support.  Without much adieu, he told me I would rebound soon and get a headache today.  ( I can't make stuff up this funny!)

So I am off to find the secret to cleaning the kitchen, while avoiding the cheese dip and locate the Tylenol bottle.  I can deal with one more day even if it doesn't mean another four pounds.  I can claim one "bowling ball" victory even if it is a Jr. League Bowling Ball!

As a follow up, today; was the plateau Greg had predicted but I am giving it another day.  I did eat two pickles which weren't juiced.  First sodium in a week.  Oops.

 Melvin Daniel Kirschling 1918-2013

We moved from Duluth seven years ago returning to Wisconsin Rapids because Ron's dad Melvin lived here in his original home, flanked by his original memories and too because Ron was offered a position to start a practice at Riverview Hospital in conjunction with the University of Wisconsin his Alma mater.

This month after a long and not improving stroke his dad passed.  He is in a better place.  I just wish he didn't need to endure the last three months.  Here is a man who just wanted to die immediately, and peacefully, on his porch after a brisk morning spent chopping wood.

This didn't happen.

He was a very private man who lead a very solitude life for the entire time of his existence.  He wasn't gregarious, nor generous but he was articulate, kind, thoughtful, friendly, and happy.  When Mel got something in his mind he held on tight. It can be said he had a stubborn German streak. He negotiate several electrical union contracts with the mill and avoided ever striking.  He didn't often change his opinions but he always did consider and valued others' positions.  As in voting; pretty much he voted democratic, with a few exceptions. . .including this last presidential election. He was always up-to-date on current events although he wasn't much of a reader except for the local paper. (I say so, with bias; as Ron is a veracious reader.  (No one reads more than Ron except for Greg.))  He sourced the radio and later the television news and enjoyed O'Reilly. Picking him up on the way to meet Ron I would ask if he had heard the latest happenings.  He would volunteer current events from Afghanistan to Washington adding weather disasters.

Melvin said to me on several occasions over the last several years, "I never thought one of my children would ever move back here."  For Thursday nights Ron would say, "Dad you want to get a 'bite to eat?' ' and he would pick him up or I would if Ron was in clinic "lock down." and we would go to Baker's Street Cafe, The Mead, The Sky Club, @1800, Pizza Hut, Portessi's or Lake Aire.  Melvin would not go to Apple-bee's in Rapids because the "one in Point was better." He loved sitting at the bar in Lake Aire because "the Old Bartenders were fascinating " (Melvin was 20-30 years older so calling them old was fair)  He seldom had more than a glass of Zinfandel or one beer. I only got him one time to join us and friends here on our porch.

We quit taking him to El  Mezcals because he would only eat the chips and "one beef taco."  He had an eating dedication in that he was a very small eater.  Unless it was salmon or pizza.  He seldom took home left overs as he said he had a lot of food in the fridge.  More often than not Ron finished his entree as he frowned on wastefulness  He was a "Depression Era tipper" so Ron took over the checks. Melvin only forgot once in seven years to be ready at 6:00 p.m. Everything he did with us was written down on his calender to avoid the risk of forgetting.  (Ron is picking me up tonight and the next few Thursdays in memory of his dad.  It is the only way to get Ron out of the office before 7 p.m.)

There were times where he came here for supper. Ron would drive him both ways.  Mel still drove but preferred not to at night.   In earlier years he came for the World Series and  when the Packers were playing.  On Easter I made lamb shanks and he questioned what he was eating.  He had never had lamb.  He would not eat rutabaggies, cucumbers or brussel sprouts.  He always said I was a tremendous cook which wasn't necessarily true and then would add. . ."Your mother was a pretty good cook too."

He was the dessert man.  Pecan pie was his proclaimed favorite, chocolate anything, fried ice cream, coconut cream pie, cranberry cake which he hadn't seen in years, and Andes mints. (Well, chocolate in any form, with tea because the British taught him to drink tea in Africa during WWII.) We took him to a couple movies cuz all Kirschling men need cinema buttered popcorn.  He never feel asleep.

He always rode "shotgun."  I broke hard and  missed a deer driving out of La Crosse.  He was grateful not to have to walk home that night.

He talked of all the times he drove home from "dance jobs" down this county road or that.  He told of the time he sat on the hood of the car with his feet on the bumper, to direct the driver in the fog. He told of flailing  his arms like an air traffic control officer to keep the car between the white lines.  "If I made twenty dollars I would keep ten and give Marie ten." that was the deal he'd say.  When she died in 1997 he told me he "found phone books full of 100 dollar bills. . nothing smaller."

Four and five years ago we had Brewers' Season tickets.  If we left early on the three hour ride to Milwaukee, Ron would say to me, "We will stop for lunch, Barb."  We never did. At the Milwaukee city limits the truck went to auto pilot. Batting practice took precedence.  I'd buy a Brewer Tater! Ron saw to it dad got to a Packer's Game and a Badger Football game.  He was a good sport sitting through a few humid  La Crosse Michael swim meets too! Lincoln High School and Assumption Football were Ron's excuse to pick up dad on a cold fall Friday night. Ron played football in high school but his dad never saw him play. (Melvin played in a dance band almost every Friday and Saturday night for years.  Melvin enforced Ron's short buzzed hair until Ron left for the academy and then Melvin let his hair grow too.)

For the last  three years we have had Rafter season ticket along the first base side per Mel's request. I think the Rafter's should paint his name on his transplanted Brewer Stadium seat   Mel was always ready in his full sleeved wool shirt even if it was still 100 degrees after seven! I often drove myself because he and Ron were not leaving early. Extra innings were brutal. . .rain delays were my men's excuse to sit patiently. Rafter ball games for Melvin were one hot dog, popcorn and a diet mountain dew.  Although the beer was free he seldom partook.  I could always get him to share a frozen snicker bar. Upon leaving the game Melvin would always proclaim, "No need to drive to Milwaukee. . .This is fine baseball."

Mel looked forward to and was always grateful for the presence of his family in Rapids.  Wayne and Jane came often and Mel would always tell us of their pending arrivals.   When Ron asked him to join us for dinner, a game or a show he would say, "I'm not doing anything else but sitting on the porch and I can always do that."  If we stay out later Mel would say, "Fine with me, I can sit at home anytime."  He went once to Nelson's Resort with Mike and Ron to fish on Crane Lake with a guide who took great care of him yet  "That was nothing I need to do again."  He felt the same about a tandem ski doo ride in the Rockies with Wayne. . .a frigid golf cart ride in Kentucky.  He refused to get on the back of Ron's three wheeled motorcycle.  But he enjoyed the Duluth pontoon boat and told us he often went with Marie and friends on the river "above Biron."   He was a man who enjoyed people and knew his limits.

He also enjoyed Big Band Music. And he knew his fellow musicians. (It is rumored Buddy Rich let him sit behind his drums.)  He listened to miles and miles of recorded tapes.  Had an extensive library of LP's.  In later years he enjoyed satellite radio on car trips.  I would ask him to "Name that Tune" to pass the miles. . .he did. (I'd check his accuracy by hitting the "Text" button.)

Finally we watched the swan on the Wisconsin River.  The single swan and Mel would tell me swan stories.  I didn't see the swan from October to February this year but I saw him yesterday.  I will think fondly of Melvin every time I see this or any lone swan!

Nostalgia

I have been bitten by the nostalgic bug or at least the little trip down Memory Lane.  I was spending far too much time looking thru old pictures from Grandfather's attic and trying to make story boards for him and I just took a break to look at my childhood scrapbook.  
It comes complete with a lot of notes, letters and pictures which are of no use to anyone but me. So I decided to post a picture from 1958.  The Dainty Miss recitals of Virginia Minnesota were dance lessons free to the masses and although I participated for six years I have no dance talent whatsoever.  

Well, I can sew.  That is pretty good from a girl who was thrown into the parochial Marquette School in the fourth grade because she was 

"Boy Crazy" and Mary and George were pretty sure I was headed for "The Bethel Home for wayward girls in Duluth".  Hence I had to clean up my pension for "boy crushes." 
(For which I can still name all seven of them!)  Deny the existence of "BOYS" and remain at Marquette complete with Sister Andreine,  (Mrs. Sabbath) Sister Eucharia, Sister Helen and Sister Madaonna until the ripe ole year of 1967 when Virginia Roosevelt accepted the virgins of the 8th grade to enter the ninth.  

And talk about traumatic.  I was not only supposed to ignore boys but remember a locker location, its combination and class times for six classes including cafeteria rules and deal with swim classes, complete with Mrs. Anne Wallace who could scare the period out of any girl. The only quality I had in my repertoire was I knew how to swim as the King girls spent every summer at Round Lake in the company of their grandparents who had them in the water every day and in bed every night. (at 7:00!) 

Worst of all I had missed 7th and 8th grade Home EC, Cooking and Sewing!  Talk about being traumatized.  All this came with my front upper silver tooth shining a beam down the halls of VHS. (My future was tentative at best and I was screwed.)

I didn't speak much to anyone except Mary Ellen, Kathy and my parents for the next four years.  (One of these was my Irish twin (51 weeks older,) older sister and tagging along with her to Ms. David Thomas Cadet Girl Scouts made her really froth!  Ignore that. . . I would follow her to UMD! There Mary Ann Lambert would teach me how to cornflake and short sheet her bed!)

I would have been a different person had I learned to sew a pillow and bake cinnamon pull-a-parts!  Instead it was off to more nuns, CSS and the origin, action, and insertion of 535 muscles of a butchered mink. 1500++ facts which never presented themselves in life ever again.  

But I can laugh at it all NOW.  YUP!

59 Years in 10 minutes

What I did On My "Summer (of My Life)" Vacation     

CLICK ABOVE!

Post Birthday THE BIG 6 0

Recent events of this weekend put us at the Marquette in Minneapolis celebrating a milestone birthday. . .Yes, my 60th with a few friends and family (25) and a lot of "painting the town red".  We ate too much and drank too much as we moved from room to room and dining venue to dining venue.  Everyone came and the jokes and the music and the pictures and the video were contributed by very talented techno-logical off- spring who 'done themselves proud."  Well, me too.  I laughed and I cried and then I laughed so hard I cried.  I was the most surprised and someone else was the Host with the Most. Guess you cannot take the officer out of the gentleman!

It worked out well without saying too much to make those who didn't make the event jealous and sadly remorseful.

I believe it was Gretchen who stepped up to making the arrangements (Full Basil's Menu verses abbreviated!!!)  and getting ( To my Surprise!) over four hundred photos to Meaghan (by scanning) to Germany who then Meg  "Photo Shopped and 'Chopped' " added my "Crazy Patsy music."  They included everyone and I finally realized my "cloned Kirschling children" did not look exactly alike.  ("That's Michael. . .That's Greg. . .Grandpa Larry. . .Aunt Marie. . .Grandma Marie. . .Meg. . .no Gretchen... the girls even got in the fiances')  I have to "post" this.  I am hopeful it can be forthcoming.  (Stay Tuned. .  .Nano computer challenged that I am!)

I wanted to head north this weekend but Ron wants to start his pilot's training so I guess I am either going to have to brave the travel alone with the canines or just postpone the event until the weather warms. It would be nice if Ron got to do something for himself one of these days. (I hear the new roof has been installed and it is not like I can see it from the ground anyway.  I'll be home in stead.  Ron is much more important to me than traveling 265 miles alone to see a snow covered metal roof! Who would do that?)