Yes I am home it's just been one of those weeks, almost two if you're counting, I haven't been feeling well yet again, it's becoming the story of my life, and because of that I just haven't been cooking. I think we are starting to figure out why I have been sick for almost the past year, my gall bladder has gone haywire and has decided to either not operate at all or only operate when it so desires. This would explain why the $21,000 worth of Remicade treatments I have had since February haven't done an ounce of good. They aren't going to work if the reason they are being given to you isn't the reason why you are sick. I am not one to voluntarily sign up for a surgery, but people...I am ready to be sliced open and have that organ taken out and thrown away...that is how utterly miserable I am. If it is my gall bladder that would also explain my weight gain, I feel like I should just drop and roll instead of walking to my destination. This is evident by the pictures I have posted here on my blog. The top left one was taken exactly a year before the one I just recently posted of Daniel and Me. The roundness in my face should say it all. What makes me mad is I am eating about half of what I used to...I can't keep anything down so why bother. Now one would think, if you are eating less than you would lose weight.
Anyway, my Mother informed me yesterday that she was sick and tired of seeing the butterfly cake and instructed me that I needed to post something new. She told me I could tell everyone the story of when we moved to the farm. I was a freshman in high school and my Step-Dad had decided to go to Las Vegas during the week that we needed to move our six person, two story household. It was up to me and my Mom and she wanted me to tell the tale of moving the flimsy king size mattress down the flight of stairs. Needless to say it moved us and it was quite a ride down those stairs. Over the years I have determined that Mom+Katie+Moving= BIG TROUBLE. We attempted a dresser a few months ago, going up the basement stairs...Mom almost lost her life, I can't help that I have absolutely no upper body strength. Then there was just a few weeks ago. My Mom gave Daniel a treadmill that my Step-Dad didn't take in the divorce and let me tell you...that sucker was heavy. It took four of us to get it up those basement stairs and I would have been better off just watching. Daniel and Denny took the heavy part and Mom and I took the light part being the first two going up the stairs. I was taking the steps in a sitting position when my legs got trapped under the treadmill...I was stuck, couldn't move and it doesn't help that I am fatty. Mom and I always break down into fits of laughter during these moments so here we are stuck on the stairs laughing so hard we are crying and here poor Daniel and Denny are trying to pick up our slack and not drop the darn thing. They didn't find it very humorous but it's over now and the treadmill made it safely home. I don't think it helped that my 17 year old sister just happened to appear at that moment. Standing at the top of the stairs, cell phone in hand, asking what we were doing. Gee Megan, I don't know, having a tea party on the stairs because we are bored out of our minds...what does it look like we are doing.
There you go Mom, I gave you a new post and wrote what you requested I write about, I hope your happy.
For those of you looking for a new recipe there will be two new ones coming up, one hopefully tonight. Things may change though because I seem to get the sickest at night and in the early morning so here's hoping I can manage to pull it together.