Don’t you just love this season of the year when asparagus is at its peak? Actually, here in California, we can buy asparagus nearly  year ‘round, but at least 6 months of the year I suppose it’s shipped north from South America somewhere, and the price and quality are commensurate with the long distance. Anyway, here’s a new take on an asparagus salad. That’s Feta cheese you see sprinkled all over the top and toasted pine nuts. Dig in.

This salad was served at the little gourmet dinner we had just a week or so before my dear darling DH had his stroke. He was fit as a fiddle that evening, enjoying the wine, conversation and the food, of course. My friend Cherrie served this, and I promptly came home and made it myself a few days later. It’s great. This was another of those Sunset Magazine 25 all-time favorite recipes they did in a recent issue.

It makes a pretty presentation with the dark green of the asparagus, the white of the cheese (you could probably use goat cheese too) and the contrast of the toasted pine nuts. It has a very easy dressing that’s poured over it just before serving.

What’s GOOD: well, asparagus is good anytime, anywhere. I think it’s my favorite veg. With green beans a strong second. Loved how pretty it looked, so it’s great for a gathering. It’s easy to do and everything can be prepared ahead – just toss before serving and add the cheese and nuts on top.

What’s NOT: nothing whatsoever.

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In my freezer were 3 containers of peaches from last summer, that I’d frozen. What’s better at this time of year than a fruit cobbler, but made with those luscious slices of fruit that were just so very ripe last July? I’d bought them at Costco, let them finish ripening, then froze them in batches.

The containers of peaches sat front and center in my kitchen freezer, and I looked at them almost every time I opened the darned thing. I’d invited Bud & Cherrie over for dinner (they’re doing a kitchen remodel and are so happy when somebody invites them over so Cherrie doesn’t have to try to cook something in their currently overcrowded outdoor barbecue area and small sink). And son-in-law Todd and granddaughter Taylor were still here too. I had tons of the Pork Shoulder Ragu to serve. Cherrie made a caprese salad when she got here, and I whipped up dessert. Neighbors had dropped off a basket of ready-made appetizers for me (crackers and cheese already combined in a sealed up thingie, some olives and salami too. Perfect. Easy.

In looking on the ‘net for something new and different in the way of a cobbler or crisp or galette or something, I ran across several recipes calling themselves Texas-style. I’d not heard of it, but soon learned that it means there’s more cake part than usual. And it means you pour in the batter first, then pile the peaches on top, but during the baking process the cake/pudding part rises up and nearly covers all the fruit. The fruit is completely encased in the cake part – no layers at all. Sounded good to me, and this particular one sounded especially good because it had a sugar and lemon zest topping sprinkled on the top just before baking. That meant that each serving had a bit of this lovely sugary crust thing, nicely browned in places. Yummy. The recipe came from Cook’s Country, though I got it from a website called scarletbakes.com.

The batter is rich – the whole dish requires 3 cubes of butter, but it does serve a bunch – at least 10 people if you don’t serve Texas sized portions. Just normal servings, and loaded on top with whipped cream, thank you! In Texas sometimes this is served with both vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. That’s seemed a bit much in my book. I prefer the whipped cream. Preferably you serve this warm, but a couple of nights later I took it to our son’s house for dinner and a couple of people preferred it cold. I think I like warm better, but room temp obviously would work too. Sorry you can’t really see the top of it – when someone put whipped cream on it, it kind of covered all the crunchy sugary lemon zesty topping.

What’s GOOD: loved the crunchy, sugary topping – a couple of people mentioned they liked that part best. The ratio of cake or shortcake or whatever you call that part was good, to the amount of fruit – I liked it, but then we served it with ample whipped cream to make it plenty moist anyway. It does have more cake/batter than most such cobblers. This is more like a cake with peaches in it than peaches with a topping. It has far more cake than that! Good, though. I’d definitely make it again. I used a slightly smaller oval dish – the recipe called for a 9×13 and I should have used that – because the cake part completely came up and covered the fruit. In a few photos I saw online you could see fruit poking up through the top. But hey, the taste is what’s it’s about anyway. If we’d had this left over the next day I think I might have had some for breakfast, but alas, we ate it up at the 2nd dinner, which was fine.

What’s NOT: absolutely nothing at all. Just be sure to use a 9×13, not something larger or smaller, either one. Exactly 9×13.

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This is the dish I fixed earlier in the week. The first dinner I’d cooked since my darling DH passed away. I haven’t wanted to be in the kitchen much – I cooked a few breakfasts – made a few sandwiches for family, heated some soup from the freezer – but cook from scratch? Zippo. But the desire to cook is starting to come back, so you’ll be seeing some recipes as I make them.

With a semi-house-full of family staying with me, and no more already-cooked food to serve them, I knew I finally needed to get back into the kitchen. First, though, I had to clear my big island of the loads of flowers that were seriously over the hill. I hated throwing them away because they were all so beautiful. Kind people knew how much Dave loved roses, so there were many from the gorgeous sprays sent to our church for the memorial service. I left them intact for a few days, but with no easy way to water big sprays, we pulled the best of the flowers out and used every vase I had in the closet! But a week has gone by since the service, and with vases cluttering the island I just couldn’t seem to think straight about cooking. They’re all gone now and maybe that will clear the teary cobwebs from my eyes so I can enjoy the work in the kitchen, preparing a meal for family. It’s just that my greatest fan, my cheering section, my dear darling husband, is missing. I hope he was smiling down from heaven as he watched me prep and cook. And as I washed the dishes (although after dinner the two guys did the bulk of the dishes, bless them). Dave always said to me that he wondered if I’d do as much cooking if I had to wash my own dishes . . . I don’t think it will make a difference . . . but we’ll see.

Fortunately, this dinner was a big hit, and surprisingly it was also quite easy. I had a gigantic whole pork shoulder roast in the freezer. I should have halved it when I bought it and made two smaller roasts, but I hadn’t done that. So I started with over 8 pounds of pork shoulder. Sigh. That’s one heck of a big piece of meat. I did cut it in half before I began the cooking, and finally ended up dividing it into two separate batches of ragu. The recipe below is for about 3 pounds of pork shoulder (aka pork butt). I got the recipe online – you can find it in several places, but it’s from a cookbook called Big Night In: More Than 100 Wonderful Recipes for Feeding Family and Friends Italian-Style by Dominica Marchetti.

In a nutshell, the roast is salted and peppered, browned well on all sides in oil, removed, then a copious amount of onions are diced and sautéed, along with some garlic. Then you add fresh rosemary, bay leaves, red wine, canned tomatoes and a pound of Italian sausage. Then the meat is added back in and its simmered low and slow for several hours. The meat gets shredded (like for pulled pork), added back into the sauce and that’s really it. Oh, except for trying to skim off some of the fat. That takes a few minutes of patience. Ideally, make this a day ahead and chill it – then you could get nearly all the fat off the top. Serve on pasta (or rice) with grated Parmesan and I added a sprinkling of chopped Italian parsley. My cousin (the GF one) ate it with rice, and when some went back for seconds, I noticed they used rice also. It’s good with both. It’s intended as a sauce for pasta.

What’s GOOD: the flavor, first and foremost. Pork, especially pork with a bone, just develops a whole lot of flavor when it’s slow-braised and simmered. It was very easy to make – it probably could be adapted to a slow cooker, though I merely did it on the stovetop as the recipe indicates. This is a keeper. It also feeds a lot of people. Generally I don’t like to re-freeze meat, but I’m going to HAVE to with this recipe.
What’s NOT: nothing, really. If you don’t have time to cook it on the stove (and tend to it during its several hours of cooking), do try to adapt it to a slow cooker – that way you could start it in the morning.

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In my grief class we’ve been asked to write a letter. The kind of letter you would write to someone dear who doesn’t  understand where you’re coming from in this whole grief thing. The kind of friend who maybe nudges you to get out of your grief slump. The kind of friend who just doesn’t “get it”  – who doesn’t understand that everyone grieves differently and for different periods of time. I’m new to this – I’m in the kindergarten of grieving. But I sat down and wrote this letter anyway. I haven’t had any friend or relative nudge me yet, but probably because it’s just simply too soon. This post isn’t in any way about food. Stay tuned in – there will be a recipe up soon. Two, actually.

April 18, 2014

Dear Friend:

I’ve never been down this path before, to this place called grief. It’s a very lonely place, even though I may be surrounded by friends like you and even close relatives. And even though you are there and I’m with you or them, I almost feel like I’m standing inside one of those bubbles that can protect a child with no immune system. It’s a cloudy bubble that keeps me from interacting very well with you. I can’t quite hear what you have to say, and you can’t really understand what I’m experiencing and although you can hear me speak, you probably can’t understand me very well either.

Someone describes this as a “House of Mourning.” When Dave died I guess I went there, to this new House. It’s a House in my mind, really. The soul, the origin of our emotions, surely. Sometimes I take a short journey out of the House – maybe it’s to meet you for lunch, or attend a meeting. You might think I’m acting quite well, just looking at me. In fact some friends have mentioned how good I look. I don’t exactly know what they expect – that I’ll have huge black marks under my eyes perhaps? Or to find that my face is constantly solemn? In fact, I can smile, even laugh, and I don’t have black marks under my eyes, but that doesn’t mean that inside I’m okay. I’m not. When I’m out of the House, sometimes it’s an illusion. The laughs may be real – they’re not contrived and it feels wonderful. But then it’s as if my soul is sucked back into the House again. The House is where I’m incredibly sad, bereft, crying more often and feeling terribly alone. The House draws me back and reminds me that Dave is gone. That he’ll never return.

Staying in this House reminds me that I must go through this process of being alone and sad before I can come out of the House for longer periods. And maybe smile more, and laugh with abandon. Eventually I’ll be able to concentrate again for more than about 2 minutes at a time. I’ll even be able to read a book and know I’ve actually read the pages. Or that I truly engaged you in conversation and didn’t get sucked back to the House in mid-sentence – your sentence.

So just bear with me. I trust God that I’ll come out of the House eventually, this tunnel of darkness, sadness and loneliness. Listen to me when I cry and want to describe my distress. Hug me often. Just let me talk, let me cry and be my friend. I need you, more than you’ll ever know. Though I may not express it right now, your friendship means the world to me.

Thank you, my friend.

Carolyn

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Like lemon? Like chicken? A match made in heaven. Along with a bit of orzo, a side vegetable (I did asparagus) and it’s a full meal. You might even want to drink the sauce it’s so good.

Janice, a part of my extended family, made this chicken a couple of weeks ago. On one of the evenings when I was so very struggling with my recent grief, and rather than stay at home and mourn, I went to Janice and Julian’s house and she made this fairly simple chicken dish. It was served in a casserole, but it’s not really a casserole, like you’d think, where everything is baked together. No, but it made for easy serving and you certainly could stick this in the oven for 10 minutes or so to meld together before serving it.

Janice found the recipe on www.pepperplate.com. And I did find it on a couple of other websites around. I adjusted the recipe slightly. Chicken thighs are slathered with a mixture of whole grain mustard, lemon zest, dried oregano, salt and olive oil. While you get the remainder of the dinner together, just let that sit to soak up the flavors. The chicken is browned on the stovetop in garlic-enhanced olive oil. If you’re using bone-in thighs, the chicken, in the pan, will go into the oven in the lemon juice/chicken broth mixture to cook through (about half an hour). I used boneless skinless thighs because that’s what was in the freezer, so instead of baking, I just slowly simmered the mixture on top of the stove (about 15 minutes or so). Then the chicken is removed and set aside to keep warm while you quickly mix up the lemony sauce. It’s quick and easy, and at the end you throw in a couple of tablespoons of butter to richen the sauce. If you’re averse to that, I think it might taste just fine without it.

Meanwhile, you cook the orzo and put that into the bottom of a casserole dish, add the chicken and sauce, garnish with parsley and it’s done. You could put the entire dish into a low oven for 10-15 minutes if needed, but you can serve it as is. Serve with a green salad or a green vegetable and you have a full meal.

What’s GOOD: My family gobbled it up and had seconds. I loved it too. Loved the lemony flavor – that’s probably my favorite part of the dish. The lemon permeates the orzo (from the sauce) so every bite you eat has that lovely lemon flavor. The chicken was tender and wonderful. I’ll make it again for sure.

What’s NOT: really nothing. There are a few steps to making this, but truly, if you got everything ready ahead of time, it comes together very quickly.

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Friday morning I woke up and knew it was Friday. Exactly 3 weeks since Dave died. I laid in bed in sadness . . . thinking about that morning. The awfulness of it. The phone call from the nurse who said “there’s been a medical emergency; you need to come to the hospital immediately.” I asked what had happened and she wouldn’t say, just repeated that there was a medical emergency, you need to come right away. The drive to the hospital (about 20 minutes away) was horrible. I was crying and driving – probably not very safe. I prayed over and over and over. I think I knew, but I held out hope. I remember parking my car in the multi-level parking garage, and the endless walk/run from there to the front door of the hospital, having to wait in line to get my ID badge to go to the ICU. The wait for the elevator, the wait at the ICU doors for them to open them up so I could enter the ICU unit. My mad dash down the rooms. The nurse who announced loudly when I was about 15 feet from the room, saying “his wife is here.”

I remember seeing them administering CPR with about 10 blue-clad uniforms surrounding Dave’s bed. The nurse I knew who held onto my shoulders and made me sit in a rolling desk chair outside the room, the ICU doctor crouching in front of me telling me what had happened. Hearing the people in the room say something like “let’s try the paddles again one more time.” But I’d heard what the doctor had said, the one crouching in front of me, that even if they were able to get the heart to beat, his brain had had no blood for 25 minutes. And he said “you need to let him go.” I turned to the nurse who had been so kind to me and she said the same thing, “you need to let him go.” I said yes. And I sobbed. They stopped. It was over.

So, on Friday, as I went about my morning routine, I thought a lot about Dave. About those 9 days he’d been in ICU with all the ups and downs of the brain in trauma, the rhythm of the ventilator, the blood pressure cuff that automatically took the readings every 15 minutes. The tones of the machines that administered drugs hanging on the pole by the bed. His temperature was up, then down. Blood pressure up, then down, then up again. Then down very low. His blood sugar up and down, up and down. Pulse fast, then slow. His brain must have been struggling mightily during those days. He was peaceful. Of course, the early days it was a drug-induced sleep and peace, but he didn’t wrestle with anything, which is comforting. I remember the day before he died when his eyelids flickered open often, but he didn’t seem to see. Or follow. Or respond to my voice.

I’m sorry if this is more information than you ever wanted to know. I try not to relive those moments all the time – it’s too heart-wrenching. But Friday, at that 3-week interval, I mourned hard. Some hours later I glanced at my watch at exactly 8:30, that was when his heart had stopped. And the Code Blue team had been called. I just think Dave somehow let me know that that’s really when he went to heaven. I hadn’t been watching the time – I really didn’t want to. But at exactly 8:30 I did look at my watch. I don’t want every Friday to be a bad day. Or every 21st day of the month to be a bad day. Dave wouldn’t want that for me, I know.

All the food has been eaten now – all my wonderful friends who brought things for me. Last night I  defrosted a flat Ziploc of cabbage patch stew, one of my favorite things. My cousin Gary, who is still with me, and I had that for dinner. Very much comfort food for me. Today I need to cook. Todd, one of the sons in law arrives with his daughter for a few days. They were here last week, but this is Taylor’s spring break week, so they’re coming down to spend it with me, which is nice. So, assuming what I’m making today tastes good (a pork shoulder recipe) I should have something new to report in another day or two.

Dave’s chair, the one pictured at top, isn’t a comfortable chair for me – not an emotional discomfort, but a physical one – because it has a very deep seat. Dave was a tall man, and that chair was definitely his. It sits directly facing the big TV in the family room. It’s where he watched his favorite westerns, the 007 movies, the news. Golf tournaments and football games. I think I’m going to need to rearrange the room because the chair is very uncomfortable for me – I’m a short person, so I have to slouch to sit in it at all –  not at all an easy angle to watch TV. One of these days I’ll think about it. When I have some strong backs to push and shove the furniture to new positions.

My cousin Gary, who is still here with me, you might recall, has to eat gluten free. Or at least flour free. The only thing I did make a few days ago were the absolutely fantastic GF peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. I made them the first time this past December and posted about them. There’s nothing IN them except peanut butter, brown sugar, soda, salt, vanilla and chocolate chips. And you’d absolutely swear there must be flour because they look and taste just like a cookie that contains flour. I made a double batch and he’ll take most of them home with him. I kept out a few.

I wrote the program for the memorial service we had last Monday. About 300 people came. What a tribute to him that so many people came to bid him goodbye. The program was really crowded with information. I wrote this on the back cover – just information about Dave that most people might not know. Our 3 children wrote a paragraph each also, but this is the paragraph I wrote first, when I sat at my computer and started to write the program.

Did you know about Dave’s favorite things? That he loved red roses? And jazz! And travel. His favorite movie was The Music Man, and he’d cry every time at one particular song in it. His 2nd favorite was Casa Blanca. Western movies made him happy, especially those starring John Wayne, and anything 007. Sailing gave him such peace and freedom and he was very proud of his boat, Decadence (so named because it has a shower and an oven in it). It was his pride and joy, along with his new BMW convertible and his wine cellar. Many mornings he visited one of the local coffee stores for good conversation with people. He loved the Lord; he read and reread Psalms and Romans. And he truly loved his guy friends in his men’s Bible study group. He loved music – God spoke to him through music especially singing in the church choir. He loved candlelit dinners any night of the week – ribeye steaks along with a good bottle of Zin or Cab, enjoyed in our dining room with the sun setting on the horizon. He was fanatic about washing dishes – funny, but true. He loved his children (and grandkids), worried about them nearly every day as parents are wont to do. He was a real romantic and he loved me for 31+ years. Goodbye, my darling. . .

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I’m still not up to doing much cooking yet. Dear friends came over a week ago and we collaborated on having the St. Patrick’s Day dinner we’d planned in mid-March. I made the corned beef, according to my friend Linda’s recipe, Corned Beef for St. Patrick’s Day, a post from a couple of years ago. We  had the usual side dishes of cabbage and onions. Cherrie made her Colcannon, the mixture of mashed potatoes, leeks, cream and kale. I sent Bud and Joe to our wine cellar to find a really good bottle of red, which we opened in Dave’s honor and gave him a toast. I cried.

We also opened a bottle of bubbly, which Cherrie and I just love (it’s one of the many things she and I share a love for) – it was a pink champagne, but not sweet. It was wonderful. It tasted good. The whole dinner tasted good to me.

Cravings during grief probably vary with everyone, but what I crave is carbs. Not normal for me. I’ve eaten more breakfast cereal in the last 3 weeks than I have in two years! But my doctor has suggested I make sure I get protein 3x a day, so I’ve started having the one link of sausage (I’ll need to make a new batch of my home made ground pork and turkey sausage that I like so much, but for now I have Costco’s in the freezer) and a tiny bowl of yogurt with blueberries and raspberries. I’m not hungry much at all (also very different for me), and since pounds are coming off (a good thing) I’m able to limit portions without any difficulty. Eventually, I’m sure, my appetite will resume, so I’m going with the flow. I do eat 3x a day, so I’m getting plenty. My usual chocolate craving has virtually disappeared, although I did eat about 5 chocolate chips (not cookies, just the chips)yesterday, so maybe that’s resuming also. I do crave bread, mashed potatoes, toast. A half a sandwich used to be my norm if I ordered a sandwich (I’m more a salad girl, actually) but sandwiches have appealed to me. Now I eat half of a half a sandwich and save the rest for dinner. That’s worked. Friends took me to a Jewish deli the other day and I really enjoyed the 1/4 pastrami sandwich on fresh, soft rye bread.

And how am I doing, you want to know? Well, maybe a little bit better. Sleep still gives me fits and if I’m not rested I don’t cope well the following day. My doctor has given me something to help me sleep, but am very reluctant to take it every night. I still cry at odd moments every day. Sometimes several times a day. Looking at that one picture of Dave still brings me to tears nearly every time. Reading the cards from people – oh my gosh, I must have nearly 100 of them – makes me cry. Sometimes it’s the verse on the card. Sometimes it’s what the friends wrote about Dave. I still have a pile of cards to open – it’s very emotional doing that – so I try to just do 3-5 a day.  One of my blog readers commented today – I love what it said – “Sometimes my memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.” So very true. Thank you, Connie. A friend brought me a book of daily Christian reading for grief. I ordered two books recommended on www.griefshare.org. I’m going to start going to a 13-week grief workshop in about a week. It may be too early for me, but the class won’t be offered again for several months, so I’m going to try.

As relatives and friends begin arriving this weekend I’ll probably do some cooking. I’ll have to. I have 2 large coffee cakes in the freezer to bring out – gifts from friends. Another dear friend, Kathy, brought me a batch of frozen lentil soup this morning (Ina Garten’s recipe, she said). That will taste particularly good. And my darling PEO sisters are bringing a dinner to serve 20 people on Sunday. And food for 6 for breakfast too. God bless them – I do feel so blessed. My cousin Gary, who spends Christmas at our/my house every year, is coming down for 10 days. I hope I’ll be UP to doing some things, not just having to do paperwork and dealing with our family living trust issues, etc.

Thank you, dear readers, for your patience with me. I will get back in the kitchen eventually.

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hol·low

noun \?hä-(?)l?\

1. A cavity, gap, or space: a hollow behind a wall.

2. An indented or concave surface or area.

3. A void; an emptiness: a hollow in one’s life.

4. A small valley between mountains.

This blog isn’t going to become a forum for grieving, but since I’ve received so MANY emails and comments from all of you, my readers, with kind words of encouragement and prayers, I thought I’d just write a little bit. Hollow is all I can feel right now. Our son and his wife had a photo of Dave on their family photo wall (at left), and when I took it down, I crushed the frame to my chest. It’s so HIM! I held it and I sobbed. I wish I could carry it around with me everywhere. Practically, I can’t hug it to me as I lie in my lonely bed at night, but I sure do hug it periodically during daytime hours. I’ve propped it up on my kitchen island and I see it there every time I walk in the kitchen. They’ve loaned it to me for now.

Many tasks await me – coordinating with the dear friends who are going to deliver eulogies at the service (April 7th); writing and printing the program for the service (our church would do it for me, but I want to do it myself), flowers, decorations, food, coordinating and ferrying people flying in from all over, responding to emails from my/our friends who have just poured their love on me. I want to do this right because I want to honor Dave, my helpmate, the man who treasured me for 31 years. Sara, our daughter, is putting together two separate powerpoint slide shows with pictures of Dave over every stage of his life – one to be shown before and during the service, and the other (with more lighthearted pictures) to show during the reception. We went to Kinko’s yesterday and scanned them in (most are printed snapshots).

Hugs are my undoing – I cry every time. Here’s hoping that gets better as nobody likes to hug some teary old woman!

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My dear darling hubby, Dave, passed away yesterday, the 21st. He fought valiantly and had begun to regain consciousness from the stroke and drug-induced coma, but the doctors believe he had a sudden lung embolism (a blot clot that lodged in the lung and it stopped the heart and brain). They gave him CPR and the paddles to the chest but his heart had stopped. It was an agonizing decision to tell them to stop. My family surrounds me. I’m not cooking, obviously, but eventually I’ll get back in the kitchen, I suppose. We have 3 children and 5 grandchildren. And yes, I’m just devastated. He was the love of my life. A wonderful husband, dad, and grandpa. We were married for 31 years.

Thanks much to those of you who sent me emails or left comments. It’s a terribly lonely time when you lose a spouse but I do feel surrounded with loving and caring family and friends.

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Last Tuesday (over a week ago) my husband, my dear darling DH, Dave, had a stroke here at home. He had severe vertigo and then the vomiting that goes along with that. I, of course, didn’t know that he’d had a stroke. I called 911 a few hours later and he’s been in our local hospital, in ICU, ever since. He had surgery last Thursday to relieve pressure on the brain (because the cerebellum, where the stroke occurred, was swelling – the cerebellum controls equilibrium and fine motor skills). They kept him in a drug-induced coma for 4+ days and took him off the sedation on Sunday, but so far he’s not waking up yet. They tell us this isn’t unusual. His heart went haywire within those 4 days and they did have to use the paddles to the chest (called cardioversion) to shock his heart back into rhythm, which it did. His blood pressure was way up, but as the days have gone on, his vital signs are all stable and good. He’s on a ventilator, of course, they’re feeding him through a tube. He opened his eyes yesterday for about 20 seconds (but we don’t think he focused on anything – he didn’t track movement or voices), but so far he’s still wanting to slumber. I hesitated telling all my readers about this because most of you don’t know him. I don’t have any more posts “in the bank” as bloggers sometimes refer to it. The Nutmeg Muffins I made were the last things I baked prior to Dave’s stroke. I have one more recipe to go, but I haven’t written it yet. It will just have to wait. There’s been not one stitch of cooking going on in my kitchen for 8 days. And I have no idea when I’ll start again. If you’re a believing person, pray for my hubby.

I’m doing okay – as long as I get enough rest I’m functioning. I have been spending long days at the hospital. Two of our kids live locally and they’ve been wonderful. I don’t lack for friends who want to help, to visit me, or bring me a sandwich, or friends who want to give me hugs – and oh, do I ever need those! One of our pastors has visited him every day. We don’t know how much he will be affected by the stroke – but as a double amputee it’s quite possible he’ll have to learn new ways to walk, although since he lost his legs (below the knee, to diabetes, in case you didn’t know) he’s used his eyes to balance as he walks, so perhaps he’ll adjust more easily than they think. Won’t know until he wakes up, sits up, and stands up. I’ll write another update when I have more to tell.

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