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Archive for March, 2008

I have, and boy sometimes they sure bring out the skeletons in ones closet. So my brother Mark has taken up genealogy study over the last several years and he has located our roots back as far as Charlemagne in France during the 700’s. So recently he started to link other family members in our roots to us. Besides being related to Celine Dion, Madonna, Shania Twain and other characters it seems we are related to to Hillary Rodham Clinton by way of her 9th great grandfather Jean Guyon in 1592, you see he was also my 10th great grandfather from France. So the roots are like this:

Jean Guyon b.1592 (Hillary Rodham Clinton’s 9th great grandfather)
Jean Guyon b.1619
Barbe Guyon b. 1620
Maris Paradis b. 1643
Claire Monercy Bauche b. 1668
Jean-Baptiste Choret b.1687
Francois Choret b. 1727
Francois Charette b. 1757
Francois Charette b.?
Jean-Marie Charette b.1808
Jean-Baptiste Charette b. 1835
Isabelle Charette b. 1896 (my grandmother)
Alfred Voisine b.1934-1978 (my dad)
Me b.1962

It sure is a small world…..I’m wondering who else out there comes from the same roots? 🙂

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crepes.jpg

INGREDIENTS

  • CREPES
  • 1 egg, beaten
  • 1/4 cup skim milk
  • 1/3 cup water
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/4 teaspoon white sugar
  • 1 pinch salt
  • FILLING
  • 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips
  • 1 cup sliced fresh strawberries
  • 3/4 cup frozen whipped topping, thawed

DIRECTIONS

  1. In a large bowl, beat together egg, milk, water and oil. Beat in flour, sugar and salt until smooth.
  2. Heat a medium, nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Place a ladleful of crepe batter into center of pan, tilting to coat the bottom. Cook until golden brown on one side, turning once, 2 to 5 minutes. Continue with remaining batter.
  3. In a small saucepan over low heat, melt chocolate chips, stirring constantly. Remove from heat.
  4. To assemble, spread some melted chocolate on the lighter side of one crepe. Place a line of overlapping strawberries down the center of the crepe and roll it up. Top with whipped topping and drizzle with a bit more chocolate. Repeat with remaining crepes.

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Ah, only 73 more sleeps before we descend upon Italy once more!

It is difficult to imagine how easily one gets hooked on travel. For my husband and I, it is frequently how we enjoy our time together. This year is no different. As time get closer to departure, I begin to dream about our upcoming trip. In fact, sometimes I even obsess about it. The other night I dreamed that we had gone to Italy and it was the night before we had to return home (those that know me know I stress about returning before the trip ever starts) and we had not had any gelato yet. In my dream we were up late packing to come home and I told my husband, “here we are packing and I have not even had a gelato yet”….so many things to do, so little time.

I know I am very fortunate, that we can travel. But it is truly addictive to me. I read and study the places to visit. But travel books and take notes, print out directions before we leave, research restaurants and train schedules months in advance….I am driving myself nuts! I also know some of the best travels also include the spur-of-the-moment decisions. I am ready for those as well.

In all actuality, does the person create the journey or does the journey create the person….you tell me!

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Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday Dear Husband
Happy Birthday to you!

51 years ago today my husband was born. He came into my life 11 years ago, and has brought so much joy to me. He is my best friend, soul mate, travel companion, my ying to my yang, my sunrise to my sunset…you get the picture? This post is dedicated to my love of my life on his Birthday. I love you my dear……
I’m sorry not to be with you today…..but I will see you soon.

“Moon River”
Moon River, wider than a mile,
I’m crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you’re going I’m going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end–
waiting ’round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.

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Introduction to Drama 101

drama-queen.jpg
Why do some prefer drama over comedy?   Me I’d take a good comedy any day!

The word “tragedy” refers primarily to tragic drama: a literary composition written to be performed by actors in which a central character called a tragic protagonist or hero suffers some serious misfortune which is not accidental and therefore meaningless, but is significant in that the misfortune is logically connected with the hero’s actions. Tragedy stresses the vulnerability of human beings whose suffering is brought on by a combination of human and divine actions, but is generally undeserved with regard to its harshness. This genre, however, is not totally pessimistic in its outlook. Although many tragedies end in misery for the characters, there are also tragedies in which a satisfactory solution of the tragic situation is attained.

Some days, everyone around seems to be seeking out drama in their lives. Me, I like my life plain and simple…a slower version of life is always good. For some folks they like to practice drama. Not me! Tragedy often shows the lack of escape of the protagonist, whereby he or she cannot remove themself from the present environment.

Me, I prefer my life simple…..good food and wine, friends and lots of travel.

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So, I told you I’d continue the story of recovery…..

After the painful and pot-hole filled ride home I arrived in earnest to seek out the bathroom and my comfy bed.  I rolled into bed and placed my ice bag on my abdomen and the drifted into another brief nap.  My mind raced about how this would feel tomorrow and how long my recovery would take.  I felt sick. I hate being home from work, as I feel useless.  My stomach churned so I decided the only it could handle was some crackers. After munching a few it was time for another does of painkiller. Then off to bed.  I slept most of the night, only to be awakened by strange and bizarre dreams.

The next morning, I woke early in dire need for pain medication, and a fill to my ice bag I went back to bed and slept most of the day.  The next couple of days were uneventful until Saturday, when I woke feeling better and decided to go to the store with a friend to get out of my dungeon. I attempted to go down stairs, but after stepping on the first step at the top of the stairs my feet slipped and I feel backwards on my butt striking my lower back.  I lay in agony trying to catch my breath and figure out what had happened.  I was so worried about my abdominal incisions I did not store to think about the damage done to my “tail”….a broken tail….”how could this be?”.  So now I am on the mend but can’t sit for very long…….The song “How do I mend this broken Tail” comes to mind…remember Freddy Fender from the 70’s?   😉

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Well nine days have passed since my gallbladder surgery. The surgery itself was uneventful as far as complications go. However the recovery process has had some glitches to say the least.

Monday March 3rd at 11:00am I arrived at the outpatient surgical center. I was quickly called over to register and given additional mounds of paperwork to fill out and sign. I sat and waited anxiously for my name to be called. At 11:15 I was called to go with a surgical nurse into the back area to be prepped for surgery. Dozens of questions asked, weighed, measured, blood pressure taken, temperature measured, poked and prodded I was ready! An IV was inserted into the top of my left hand. And a concoction of fluids dripped into my nervous body. I sat on the edge of a bed while waiting and the nurse came in and announced the need to do a “pregnancy test”…. oh my god! I thought……well I quickly surrendered said urine specimen for testing. A few minutes later she came back and handed me the results…..NEGATIVE….not surprised!

So next I met with the OR nurse, Anesthesiologist, Nurse Anesthetist, and my surgeon was no where in sight. I answered more questions and was finally given four various medications to relax, sedate, and take away post-op nausea medication. I was told the medication would take effect almost immediately…but I waited…nothing. Then I was given another dose. BAMM, straight to my head and my mouth. I quickly became tongue-tied and started to talk incessantly. I looked for my doctor, once again, no where in sight.

Soon I was whizzed away on the stretcher to the OR. The all was long and lonely until we reached outside the door of the OR. Lots of people in masks, gloves and surgical gowns…..but no doctor! Just as they wheeled me into the sterile and cold room, I quickly thought I spotted my surgeon…”Hi” I exclaimed, as they wheeled me in and had me move on to the operating table. This is the part I hate.

A cold, hard table I was placed on, next people filled the room and where having all of these side conversations amongst themselves. “Do even exist” I asked myself? or was this all a dream of some sort. My only salvation to all of this was Eric. Eric was the CRN-A or nurse anesthetist I had. He was cool’ calm and collected. He appeared me very self confident and in control of the situation. I confided my fear to him and he quickly assured me that he would take care of me. He placed an oxygen mask over my face, telling me to breathe deeply so he could inflate my lungs. But I could not stop talking!!!! I kept talking the mask off to talk to him. Once again he assured me that i would be fine. The nest thing I knew was, IV medication was injected into my vein, I tried to fight the urge to sleep, but soon my eyes close and I was out.

I was aroused by the noise of people talking again. I felt the intubation tube that was placed down my throat, being taken out, I started to chock and cough. The lights were bright, but he room was hazy….I asked what time it was, and was told by Eric that it was all over. My laprascopic cholecystectomy was successful. I wondered if indeed the surgeon actually showed up. Even though I thought I had seen her in the hallway, I was not sure that ever appeared in the OR. My hands slid down under the warm blankets feeling for my incisions. Five small incisions had been created on my abdomen. I was in quite a bit of pain, and was quickly given Fentanyl for pain. I dozed off and on again for over an hour or so.

“We have to get you moving”, is what I heard! we are going to get you up in a chair so your family can come in. “Ok”. Into the chair I went, IV and all. I was given the standard ginger ale to drink and a few crackers to see if I could tolerate anything in my stomach. Nausea came and more pain, thus more medication. But the recovery room nurse, Cynthia was very patient with me.

Soon my mom and sister-in-law came in to join me, as I lay in a near comatose state of medication and heavy sedation. I was happy to have company. My sister-in-law returned my cellphone to me, when my dear husband called to check on me. I was finally ready to leave the hospital. I had my ice bag and pillow with me for the long ride home. The sun was setting in the sky and the famous Maine potholes on the roadway where waiting for me. I climbed into the front passenger seat and drifted in and out of sleep during the ride home……
To Be Continued

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