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Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my mother. As the oldest of her seven children, I was in some very lovely ways my mother's long-time confidante about her own before days, which I thought of as my "pre-history"--everything that happened before my parents had me or even each other.

Happily for me, my mother had a significant before days era. She was the eldest of two daughters of dairy farmer/small-town grocer parents. Born in 1919 before her own mother could vote, she went to college in 1936, taught school, then went to New York in 1939 to study music, and returned home to teach again. When America joined WWII she moved to St. Louis where she got an office job and eventually met and married my father after knowing him only a month. Then he went to Europe as part of the D-day prep team, and she was on her own again for a year before he returned.

Her pre-history experiences, adventures and perspectives made her extremely different from all my friends' mothers. In other words, she was my first role model. I grew up wanting to become, like she had done, my own person.

When my father died (at 68), I was single, and Mother and I started traveling together. She was always up for any adventure, and I discovered how big a flirt she was! A few months ago I found a news article about a long-ago high school reunion in which she described herself proudly as "a traveling widow." During that phase of her life, she loved living alone and sharing her before days stories with her granddaughters. Eventually, Alzheimer's happened, and she came to live with me and my husband for the last dozen years of her life.

Life has many phases. Like Yogi Berra said, "It ain't over 'til it's over." Thank you, Mother.

(And thanks to y'all for listening.)

Here I sit at the airport in Newark, NJ. Buster is all checked in and I'm at the gate. The guy at the check-in counter was trying to save me money and didn't want to check one of my bags because it was carryon size. The bag was Buster's stuff. I forgot I had a BIG can of hair spray in the bag, so TSA was a hold up. Booo.... But I was plenty early so it wasn't stressful. I am a fan of arriving home early, but the getting up at 4:00 am is not my idea of fun after a long and exhausting weekend of dog shows. Buster had a great start to the weekend, but it went downhill after he won Owner Handled Best in Show. C'est la vie of the dog show world!

It will sure be interesting to see how my weight is tomorrow. My new vial of tirzepatide arrived last Tuesday while I was already on my way to the airport. I only had 20 units to take with me. My normal dose is 63 units. I took the dose of Friday night (a day late). While I can tell it wasn't as strong a dose because I didn't have my "I really don't want to eat" day, I still have not had any difficulty with controlling portions or had any cravings. The med must have some type of "shelf life" in the system.

A few people mentioned my weight loss, which was nice. Some people I thought would say something, said nothing. Interesting how that works. Perhaps when one reaches my age it is more likely that weight loss is due to poor health than when younger and people are worried to bring up that possibility. Makes sense to me. But I feel like I look really healthy, but maybe I'm kidding myself. Who knows.

I am hoping for a loooooonnnnnggggg nap on the plane. And I am sure looking forward to being home!

I thought sous vide was cooking in water in vacuum sealed bags? What does the oven do to facilitate that?

Personally I would try to find a church that feels like it is a better fit!

When I was a kid, my favorite knock joke was:

Knock knock

Who's there?

Duane the bathtub, I think I'm dwauning.