last night, after that somewhat tortured post, i went to bed to contemplate serious things.

more specifically, what to serve with mashed potatoes.

because along with my collapse in thinking skills comes a collapse in thinking skills.

yes, i did just say that ūüôā

it’s funny how sometimes when people don’t know me, they can’t tell anything is wrong with me. lots of times, i¬†can carry on a mostly normal conversation. i’ve¬†gotten fairly good at substituting a word for a word i¬†just can’t place (for example, saying pencil instead¬†of pen, or stove instead of oven…). usually it’s close enough to work. around family, i just describe things, and they’ve gotten used to playing ‘name that thing’ with mommy:

“you know-¬†it’s the cold place in the kitchen.”


“no- where ice cream is.”

oh- freezer.

“yes, freezer.”

so last night i¬†went to bed and spent a good long while-¬†several hours in fact ( i¬†wish i¬†was kidding)- trying to figure out what i¬†could make for supper tonight that would go with mashed potatoes. i¬†know there are things that traditionally “go” with¬†mashed potatoes, but i¬†couldn’t remember them. i could have cheated and asked *h, but it seemed shockingly important to puzzle this one out on my own.

i¬†generated lots of ideas that seemed unsuitable, although i¬†couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. egg salad didn’t seem to work. ditto fried eggs. ditto hard boiled eggs.

why the extensive egg catalog? i think my brain was searching for a protein, without really understanding that clearly.

chicken soup. sounded kind of yummy, but also ickliy geriatric or convalescent.

and on and on it went. i¬†literally couldn’t fall asleep. i¬†was tense¬†with the chase. i felt like the solution was right there on the edge of my consciousness, just waiting for me to get it.

i finally settled on fried fish (yuck, by the way. nobody really likes fried fish in our house except for me and *h, and even the thought of frying fish is making me gag, but at least i felt like i had done my due diligence and i could fall asleep).

this morning i¬†woke up and i¬†was like, “ground meat in beef gravy over mashed potatoes. yum. all the kids will eat that. simple and filling. perfect. what was so hard about that?”

and i realized that, at least for the moment, jumble has gotten on the bus and gone to visit someone else.

it’s good to know that *h is ever present, so that when¬†brain damage¬†tries to edge me out of the driver’s seat,¬†*h is there to take the wheel.


it strikes me how awesome it is that i have this blog. because when i forget things that i know- like that i am a fighter- you all are here to remind me.

it strikes me how lucky i am to be in this time, in this place, where my fog not only lifts, but comes down on me infrequently enough that i have a measure of functionality.

it strikes me how blessed i¬†am, that even though i¬†can be ungrateful and spoiled, god/the universe/karma doesn’t usually see fit to strike me down worse so i¬†can appreciate just how good i usually do have it most of the time.

it strikes me how much i love to write, and how much i love my family, and how much i love simple things like listening to talk radio and making jam.

it strikes me that while a good portion of the world doesn’t even have clean water to drink, i¬†can go to a dollar store and not only buy my favorite kind of toothpaste (aim gel), i¬†can get a bag of gumballs¬†and eat as many as i¬†want. and i¬†can leave all of the orange ones (i hate food that is artificially colored orange) and nobody will yell at me for it.

it strikes me that i¬†have more in any given minute that some people have in an entire lifetime, and in case i¬†don’t say that or express that enough, i want you all to know that it’s in my heart.

because you are all a big part of that reality.

so, i dedicate this post to all of you- the lurkers and the loyal. the commenters and the quiet. the spectators and the supporters.

you lift me up and carry me through the sand (you and *h). (

so thank you.