Simple Pleasures

Thinking about simple pleasures today. Things like sitting in a chair watching the snow fall softly on pines. And the beauty of exercise, especially Pilates, my new found love – breathe deeply in and out, and in and out, and gently stretch your body til it screams "STOP!" yet you push it just a bit more, gently of course. You need to be flexible. Why, you're almost 50 and you had major surgery on your chest and arm, and you need to play volleyball in August in Campobello with the island girls. And the folding of laundry – how beautiful that can be when done with the right attitude. I have a wonderful little book entitled How to Manage Housework in Canada, published by the Department of Health of Canada in 1923. You may have heard me read from it if you have suffered through one of my talks of the past. I thought perhaps I would give a daily quote from this innovative book for your reading pleasure, AND to adhere to the advice in your daily life. Men could also benefit from this book, if they choose to do housework and I know many of them do, Doug included of late. (He empties the dishwasher and empties the trash. I'm trying to teach him how to cook, but he's not that interested – YET).

Here is installment #1:

The management of the house is a most important occupation. The farm, the factory, the market, the store, the school, and other occupations exist to serve and help the home. The home does not exist for them. They exist for it. Respect and magnify your work. Managing the house is not a something to be hurried through so as to get on to something else. [I can attest to this]. It is your life-work
and your profession, and is a source of joy, comfort, usefulness, and income [income? Huh?], as all good work should be.

Mother's house is her castle [you got that right], where all she loves are safe and happy. The Preacher has his Pulpit and the King has his Throne, but Mother does not envy them [good for you, Mother, you got the right attitude]. In her own Kingdom she is all-powerful
[pretty bold statement, I say]. Neither Church nor State could stand without the kind of home that Mother makes and manages. [you got that right].

Well, that was 1923 and I guess it still holds true today, doesn't it?

Another simple pleasure: brushing one's hair. My scalp has been very tender since yesterday and I feel like I want to pull my hair out (smile). I finally went on-line to see if it had anything to do with the condition I'm in, and yes, it does. I found this on the Breast Cancer Network Australia website (why I picked Australia, I have no idea; perhaps I'll go there sometime): Hair usually starts to fall out about two to three weeks after the first treatment, and it generally happens quickly (I'm on day 10). First, your scalp may become tender or itchy (got that). The tenderness may cause discomfort when you're resting your head on a pillow or against a hard surface (how about just the fact that it's on your shoulders?). Julie, from the site, found that a satin pillow-case was more comfortable to sleep on, so now I'm on the hunt for that. Well, that solves this mystery, so I went to the bathroom and plastered my scalp and very, very thick long hair with olive butter. I look like something out of Vogue magazine. Received an email from D. who said, Hair today, gone tomorrow? She thinks she's funny. She is.

Another simple pleasure: tuna melts. I suddenly became very hungry while giving my scalp an olive butter massage, and thought, "Hmm, what for lunch today?" Tuna melt came to mind. Here's the creative recipe I came up with:

• 1 can tuna, drained
  
• Mayo to taste
  
• 2 Bread & Butter deli-sliced pickles (President's Choice brand), cut up fine
  
• ¼ tsp savory
  
• Lots of pepper
  
• No-salt seasoned herb medley (I used McCormick's)
  
• Lightly toasted English muffin
  
• Thinly sliced Gouda
  
• Thinly sliced Dofino Havarti Dill
  

  Preheat oven to 300. Spread the mixture on the open-faced muffins. Top with cheese. Wrap in an aluminum 'tent' and place on rack in oven. Heat til cheese melted. ENJOY!
  If you wish, you could add chips or fries with this delicacy. I had neither today.
   

  Another simple pleasure: words from the lips of children. I have a young girl (5 or 6), named Luca, who is praying for me every day. Luca asked her grandmother, J. what 'treatments' meant, and J. gave her a brief idea. J. sent me a card with the prayer that Luca prays for me every day. Here it is:
  Dear God,
  Debbie MacDonald is going for treatments and you have to go in the room with her. Stay with her and protect her. We don't want her to be sick so make sure she doesn't get sick. You have healed a lot of people God, so please heal Debbie so she won't have to have all the treatments the doctor says she has to have. Thank you God in Jesus' name.
  
  Thank you, Luca. Thank you, J. for sharing it with me. It is on my table before me. We need to have the faith of a little child.
  
  Afton, my granddaughter, also prays for me every day. She told me herself she does, plus she prays that her food won't be rotten! She's a girl after my own heart.
  

I woke up this morning and said to Doug, "I wish I could get a massage every day. Not a rough massage, but a gentle one." Later on in the morning, I received an email from M. who is in Florida soaking up the rays. It was a video of a cat massaging a dog. It is extremely funny, and it must be a sign that either I'm to get a cat (since cats are so prevalent in my life lately), or bring in a cat to give me a massage. Email me if you want the link and I'll send it to you. Natalie, I can't remember whether I sent it to you or not. Let me know.

Simple pleasure: Afternoon activities. The OT Director picked me up for the afternoon's activity: go to Mom's for my famous hamburger request night. I told Mom that I was going to walk down to her house and she threatened me with my life so to speak. So we thought it would be fun if I 'pretended' that I walked. So, the OT let me out at the end of the street and I strolled in to her driveway to find her in the picture window standing with arms folded, frowning at me, as if to say, "You didn't." I went in the house and got the third degree – "You didn't walk!" I never replied but smirked and hung up my coat. I turned around and threw a clementine at her, as if to say, "Here, something for you, I brought it for energy on the trip." Pippin was visiting Mom, and she said disbelievingly, "You never walked," and came towards me like a customs officer, laying hold of my face to see if it was cold. I forgot to rough up my face with snow to make it seem like I had walked. They found me out. We had a great laugh. I woke up this morning thinkin' about Pippin and how nice it would be to see her again, and Voila, there she was, just after I was a'walkin' down the street.

Well, I have reached my quota of words for the day, so will not tell about the adventures of Pippin and a new addition to our family that occurred today. I will wait until tomorrow, and post a pic of the new baby.

BTW, the hamburgers were absolutely fantastic, MOM. I had two, which is almost unheard of – plus potatoes, turnip and green beans, topped off with low fat ice cream and gluten-free chocolate chip cookie. Laid out in the chair for the rest of the evening and pulled on my aching scalp, contorting my hair into all sorts of weird and vogueish shapes. Should have taken pictures. I have so much olive butter in it that I can form it into a Mohawk. I need to go now and wash it again. I'm trying to make light of it, in preparation for losing it, but I don't know whether anything really prepares you for that initial shock – just like when I finally looked at my mastectomy site. But, I'll get over it. Just like everything else – one step at a time.

Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. (2 Cor 5:2-4).