vertigo

I’ve been out of commission the past few days with vertigo.

My eyes couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. All four walls were spinning around, the ceiling and floor were swinging into each other and the windows, art, closet, tv and furniture were whipping around in the midst of it all. Everything seemed to move far away and then zoom up close and all the while my eyes were trying to connect the pictures back to the walls, attach the lights back on the ceiling and place the shoes back on the floor. But nothing would stick.

It felt like eight nightmarish hours of being stuck on some sickening ride at a crappy midway.

Rory took me to urgent care after hours of throwing up and hoping for the symptoms to lessen. I kept my eyes shut most of the time, but opened them while crossing over highway 62 and all cars I saw looked like they were swinging far, far away and then slingshot back in my face.

When we got to urgent care, Rory ran in to get me a wheel chair. He came out with a wheel chair that would easily fit three of me, making every doorway was nearly impossible to clear. In some comedic twist, I sat in the chair miserable, dry heaving and spinning uncontrollably, while Rory banged multiple times on multiple doorways trying to get my wide self to clear the frame.

I spent the last 48 hours doing special exercises in an attempt to get all the parts of my inner ear back in order. I still don’t walk around without having furniture close by to hold on to and thanks to my mom and Rory, Ivar is being well cared for.

All this to say. Ish. I hope this is a one-time bout with vertigo and would wish this upon no one. Ish, ish, ish.

image source: here

garden sticks

I found this idea in a Martha magazine. Our markers in the garden are lilac branches that are peeled just a bit with a vegetable peeler in order to make a flat surface to write what has been planted where. We're excited for this project to come full circle when we can use that same vegetable peeler to peel our carrots!

the happiest news to share

Svea and Ivar are going to get to hang out a whole lot more in the very near future. It makes me so happy I could cry. When we first heard the news I literally did a happy dance...spooked the baby, full body in motion, singing "They're coming home to Minnesota! Home to Minnesota!"

That's right: my sister Annika and her family are moving from Montana to Minnesota. You can read all about it on her blog. I know it will be sad to leave Montana, but let it be known I could not be anymore excited, thrilled and happy about this change of scenery for the Larson Family! And for these babies to grow up together!

a bit of my character revealed

We had new friends over recently for supper and as we were cleaning up she commented, "you're an organized person, aren't you." And I replied that you have to be in a small house but that yes, I love organization and especially eliminating clutter and that I get a high from taking loads to good will. She listened to my little monologue politely and then said, "because I've never seen anyone label their refrigerator shelves before."

I don't think I would have ever thought this odd until she verbally made her observation. And as we looked in my fridge together, gazing at the dairy on the top shelf, meat and bread on the second shelf, produce on the third, and the drinks and eggs on the bottom shelf, I realized that this probably is a very unique part of who I am.

But I've got to tell you. It is really handy. And I'll give you an extra insight. The bottom drawer is filled with water bottles and gardening seeds. And the crisper drawer is filled with our leftovers. Because I have found that drawers in a fridge are dangerous. They are like two black holes of wasted space to me. I have had too many things go bad in a fridge drawer only to find a smell before the food and always feel disappointed thinking I forgot I even bought asparagus. But Rory and I know to dig for left overs. So it works for us.

So...all of you out there. Anyone else label the shelves in your refrigerator?

Ivar's great, great aunt Stella

Ivar got to meet a new relative this week. It was a six hour drive there and a six hour drive back and he was wonderful in the car both ways. The relative was my great Aunt Stella. I wrote about her and the love of her life, great Uncle Ellis in this post.

Stella is 93 and still lives on her own in her home. She gets all of her meals from meals on wheels and on Memorial Day left her house for the first time in 8 months. We called her on Tuesday to tell her we would be there on Friday and when we arrived she had planned quite the gathering. All sorts of relatives came for lunch as she had made reservations for us to eat at the local dinner.

She banged her knife on her glass anytime she wanted to make an announcement. Which was often...and entertaining :) It was good to be with family.