First let me say that when I took this photo last May, I never dreamed that all these months later those three little words would express how I feel right now, physically. Let me explain.
Most of us realize the saying "In the bag" means done, as in "It's a certainty." I read online that the meaning could go back to a baseball superstition involving taking the bag of baseballs to the locker room when the team was ahead in the last inning. Anyway, here's how this pertains to little ol' me. It's a done deal, and I'm certain that I'm give out, tired, done in, done for the work week, just about done for this evening.
Don't get me wrong. It's been a doggone good week, all things considered. Mentally, I'm very proud of how the week has gone, satisfied.
Last Saturday morning at 5 a.m. Mama had a falling episode (nothing broken) that necessitated a trip to the ER where it was discovered that she had a urinary tract infection. So, she's been taking antibiotics all week and is doing very well, thank goodness.
I knew not what we were looking at, effort-wise for the next few days, as I sat there in the ER, my head resting on top of a really thick paperback book by W.E.B. Griffin which I had put onto the counter beside my chair. While in that state, I decided as soon as Leland came to pick us up in the car, I'd get him to stay with Mama and I'd go to the Fred Meyer to stock up on groceries, etc. That's just what I did. Oh, I almost forgot, I asked Leland if he'd make us a meat loaf when I got home with the ground beef--turned out to be a delicious idea!
At the cash register I had blithely explained to the cashier that I'd be driving around to pick up the groceries, rode the escalator down to the parking garage, got in the car, turned right onto West Burnside. I called Leland and told him I'd be there in a minute, that he could come on down to help carry bags. I parked right across the street from the building, practically an unheard of thing to get to do. When I got out of the car and looked into the back seat, I gasped! The groceries were still at the Fred Meyer! Well, Leland rode the three blocks with me, being a sweet son, not making fun of his silly ol' mama.
By the time Leland left, it was 11 a.m. I put the meat loaf in the oven, baked it, and when 2 p.m. rolled around, I had already baked four BIG sweet potatoes and eight smallish Yukon Gold potatoes; blanched and sauteed Brussels sprouts; sliced zucchini, tossed it in a mixture of olive and canola oils and some sea salt, then baked it in a covered glass bowl; washed and dried green leaf lettuce and romaine. I had a goal in mind--can you tell? I wanted to get enough good food cooked, ready to easily eat, so that as the week progressed and my energy waxed and waned and came back, I'd have us decent meals waiting. One more thing needed to be done before I would feel like I'd done it--on Sunday I made a great big pot of chili. And I washed and dried--folded, put away, and put the sheets back on Mama's bed--four loads of laundry.
I also watched my favorite NASCAR driver finish second at Las Vegas!
Am I ever glad I did all of that. Here's why. Duncan, while doing much better all around, has lost his grasp on what time he ought to get up every morning. I take him out for the second time each at night either at 10 p.m. or 11 p.m. He used to sleep with Mama until 8, or 9, or sometimes 10 a.m. before she got sick in January. Now he wakes up anywhere from 4 a.m. to 5 a.m., and he's sleeping with me because I don't want her sleep disturbed since she's home alone all day. I've made it fine at work, and am so blessed that I get to walk to the bus at any bus stop that I choose, ride the it back and forth to work which means no driving or parking, and I've come home to easily prepared, good for-us meals with very quick clean up afterwards.
Nevertheless, I am one tired cookie. I wish that little dog would sleep until at least 5:30 a.m. tomorrow morning when I'll start all over again for next week. Mentally, I'm excited because I know that I can do it and I know that all three of us will be much better off for the effort. Physically I'm heading for the couch!
Before I go ...
In the Bag is on NW 23rd between Irving and Johnson. It's for certain sure that you'll find the perfect card or wrapping paper or ribbon--or bag--in this small shop. The only thing small about it is its square footage. A wide selection, helpful employees and delightful window displays make it easy to decide to return again and again.
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