The past week has been…trying. (As in: I am trying not to lose my mind!) Since I last posted, Life has thrown these things at me:
1. My parents got in a car wreck (they are having more tests, but nothing obviously horrendous has ensured) *knock wood*
2. My husband’s car wouldn’t start. (I went to try to give his car a jump, to no avail. My dad came to the rescue, though. Thanks, Dad! Three hours later, life was back to normal…for a while.)
3. The next day, my father-in-law got in a wreck. (I know, I know, I see the distinct Stay Away from Cars theme, here, too!)
4. While in the hospital being treated for car wreck related injuries, my father in law was given a pain medication that he turned out to be allergic to…seizures ensued.
5. The hospital gave him a medication to alleviate his allergic reaction…which it turned out he was ALSO allergic to. His breathing stopped. (At which point MY heart nearly stopped, because I was so rattled by what was going on that I suddenly couldn’t remember the words to ANY prayers. I ended up mixing together my Hail Mary and my Our Father, and I finally gave up and just went with “Oh, God! Please God, please God, please God…”) I supposed that God understood the general gist of my convoluted prayer, because the doctors got my father-in-law stabilized and he was eventually admitted to the ICU.
6. The next day, we were going to go see my father-in-law only to find that our tire was flat. No big deal, easily fixed, but just one more thing to add to the list.
7. Later this week, there will be more doctor appointments for other people that I love. (Feel free to light a candle, say a prayer, send positive energy, or whatever else you can thing of.)
What was left of the weekend was spent preparing for The Arctic Blast that is supposed to be heading our way sometime tonight and which seems to be planning on camping out in my neck of the woods for a good week or so. I brought in more fire wood, took care of the outside faucets, went to the grocery store (twice), and have been trying to catch up on laundry.
I spent a bit of time working on my Scots Gaelic and, thanks to the week I’ve had, I have successfully added two new swear words to my repertoire. Then, feeling slightly guilty, I learned a prayer (to balance things out, you know). It is a simple prayer–one borne of desperation. It is not unlike the frazzled fragment that finally found voice in the cold sterility of the emergency room on Saturday: A Dhia cuidich mi. God help me. It is simple. It is direct. It is enough.
Then, feeling slightly more virtuous, I decided I should reward my efforts. So…I made a Glenmorangie cake. This was not merely a selfish endeavor, my you. I thought that, what with the holidays coming up in a few weeks, it was the perfect time to *ahem* “practice” my recipe for whisky cake. (Normally I make a rum cake, so clearly I needed to do a practice cake to make sure that a whisky cake would be worthy of the holiday table. It is.)
Feeling quite pleased with my efforts, I decided (since the kiddos all seem to be taking turns complaining of some stomach ailment or another) to make up a batch of ginger syrup. It is just the thing to have on hand for just such afflictions.
I also harvested the last of the rosemary in anticipation of The Cold Snap, and I hung it up to dry.
So, basically, I did a bit of puttering. Because that is what you do when you can’t be of further help. I can’t take away the pain or stress of a car wreck, I can’t hold back the cold…or the scary…or the unknown. But, by God, I can brew a cup of tea, and toss another log on the fire, and try to let the sanctuary of home offer its solace. (And a quick prayer, in whatever language, wouldn’t be amiss in times like this, either.)