I had held off on archiving, hoping the fundraising would be successful. But tonight, to hedge my bets I thought I would archive. I can't find the directions on how to do so. I have lost them. So for better or worse, Here it is. Hopefully, there it won't go. I did pledge and hope the goal is met.Blessings abound.

  Life is testing my ability to stay grounded in the present. This morning I awoke from a fog of bad dreams and the feeling that as a mother I failed my sons in a very crucial way. I had a wonderful time with my sons and their partners yesterday- I haven't been with all my kids in forever, it seems. Yesterday, to be with them was delicious. And with the knowledge of my first grandchild on the way, it was a truly sweet time. 

  We went to Farmer's Market in Burlington and it was a large, vibrant city market. The vendors cluster around City Park. The variety is bigger than the Market in Middlebury. So good to meander amongst the many stalls, smell the cooking from Africa, Afghanistan and others.   When it was time to move my car, Beloved Firstborn discovered a trail of coolant streaking down the road. Alas, it originated from beneath my car. I called AAA for a tow, notified my garage and was prepared to ride back to Middlebury with the very personable tow truck driver with an intriquing German accent. However, my kids insisted that I stay with them and spend time. I was so happy they wanted to spend time with me. We wandered about the North End, gathering later around the fan and talking. Becca volunteered to drive me home. I hated to leave them, but I was tired and it was time. 

   I never, ever expected to have a daughter who would say she was glad I was her mother-in-law. But I do. And she did. It makes me weepy.

  This morning I am weepy and overwhelmed. Erik has a hernia repair tomorrow and I am freaked out. I know it is a minor surgery, as surgeries go, but I am scared to death he will die. I have no idea how much the repair on the car will be. The mechanic had said it might be a blown head gasket. Or it might be another broken hose. The hose, would be the preferred option- less expensive, easier to fix and the car is returned faster. Head gasket- not so good, more expensive, maybe costing more than the car is worth. We really can't afford a car payment at this time. And with the weakness in my left leg I can no longer safely use the clutch in the Jeep. A neighbor has offered to let us use one of their cars to transport him to and from the hospital. But then there's the matter of my getting back and forth to work Thursday. I don't know what will happen. I think I could pay one of my neighbor's to take me to work. Or at least to East Middlebury, where I could catch a ride with one of the docs who lives in Middlebury. 

   I have always hated the Not-Know. This morning it is positively overwhelming. 

   I think the antidote is returning to the basics. Food,rest, reading or writing in my journal. Maybe both. Blessings abound. And I know the situation with my car could have been so much worse yesterday. How fortunate that I parked perpendicular to the gentle slope! Making a gratitude list seems to be in order this morning. And I'm going to be a grandmother! That is a good bit of news. We have a roof over our head, food in the pantry, a job for me and retirement income for him. If the purchase of a new car is necessary, then we can always cut out the internet, the television and my gym membership to make ends meet. The problems are not insurmountable.  We can do this together. And we have pickles in the pantry. Ten quarts of dill pickles were made in the week before this. And they were done by a woman who is much healthier this year than she was one or two years ago. We have companion animals who are a comfort and good to be with. I live in an idyllic spot on a mountain. We have friends. We have family that loves us.  Everything will be alright, it always is.

As I progress through Lyme treatment, I have the opportunities to re-claim the ability to do things I had lost.  Yesterday, for the first time in two years, I made pickles. The last time I made pickles I was taking Percocet shortly before I was scheduled to have surgery for my back. 

Needless to say, they were not the best batch of pickles I have ever made.

Last year, I was too sick and too tired with treatment to make pickles. The spirit was willing, sort of, and the body very weak and achy. I'm sure my family was a little disappointed because there were no pickles last year. I was disappointed because for most of my life, a way I show love is to cook for my family. The food restrictions associated with my treatment have made me hesitant to make things for my family: cookies, cakes, pies, pasta; that I used to. I am afraid I will not be able to restrain myself from eating the batter and the finished product.  

Yesterday, through determination and a little help from my husband, I canned fifteen pints of Dilly Beans. I had the satisfaction of hearing fifteen pings through out the evening as vacuum seals were assured for keeping my work safe. 

Today, I feel as if I were hit by a truck. I stood and processed and lifted for longer than I have in quite a while. I know this will pass. Tomorrow I am ordering twenty pounds of pickling cucumbers from a local farm. Dill Pickles will follow shortly. I cannot express how very, very satisfied I feel. How very hopeful I feel that all the crappy symptoms, fatigue and pain from the die off of these freaking bacteria will in the end, be so very worth it. It already is. I feel very blessed today.