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Kansas City MO 64131




Filtering by Tag: Easter


Cindy Maddera

Otherwise known as "Now is the winter of our discontent" or The Long Winter or The Winter That Killed Cindy Because She Never Saw The Sun Again. The End. 

I had no idea that fleece lined leggings would actually be the most practical and important purchase I would make in 2018. When I bought them on sale, I thought I was planning for next winter. My weather app currently says "feels like 26°" and this morning I had to tell the dog three times to go outside. She usually does this on her own, but this morning she stayed under the comforter until she heard Michael open the front door to leave. Even then, she only poked her head out to see what was happening. I almost think I saw her shoulders shrug before she tucked herself back into the blanket. Yesterday morning, while it was sleeting and snowing, the cat came in and settled down in my lap. Then he attacked me for no reason other than he needed to make someone suffer for what was happening outside.

We spent most of Easter Sunday on the couch under blankets or snuggled in bed reading books. I did manage to clean the bathroom, do laundry and clean out my closet, but there was a lot of immobility happening in between chores. There was a lot of scowling at the window whenever we'd hear the tap-a-tap of ice hitting the glass. We also ate a lot of cheese and pickles. For some reason, cheese is our go-to comfort food. I don't know why the pickles were involved. We watched a cooking show on PBS where the chef said things that made us question if she had ever tasted food before. She coated grapes with olive oil and salt and then roasted them in a pan with butternut squash. Micheal said "that's interesting." I replied "I don't's a HOT grape." A salty hot grape on a salad. If raisins are the worst thing ever to be handed out as food, a salty hot grape has got to be the second worst thing.

Michael mentioned something about the trip we made to Wisconsin in July and how we nearly froze to death. One of us always ends up mentioning this trip whenever the weather is acting inappropriately. Wisconsin again interrupted my train of thought as I passed a guy in the hallway who works with sea lamprey. They're an invasive species that made their way into the lake from the Atlantic Ocean some time around 1938. Sea lampreys caused significant damage to the fishing industries of the Great Lakes. The Great Lakes Fishery Commission has gone to great lengths to get the lamprey population under control. Still, when I think about falling into any of the Great Lakes, I think of freezing to death while being attacked by hundreds of lampreys.

That's what this winter feels like. I'm freezing to death while giant eels are attaching themselves to me with a suction cup mouth full of razor sharp teeth. And yes, I realize that I am probably over exaggerating and being a bit dramatic. But really, I have nothing more to tell you. 


Cindy Maddera

Saturday morning, I got out of bed and went to a yoga class. We had plans to meet Michael's moms for lunch at 1:00, so I felt like I had plenty of time to go grocery shopping and lolly gagging around Target. I was on my way to the check out line in Trader Joe's when I noticed a text from Michael wondering where I was and that we needed to leave the house in thirty minutes. This sort of shook me out of lolly gagging mode and I replied back with  "whoops! On my way home!" Even though I had just stepped into the checkout line. Sometimes yoga makes me loopy or just so relaxed that I don't give a shit about anything, particularly time. Michael's text reminded me that we had things to do, people to see. I wiped the fog from my brain and hurried home.

Except that I never really seemed to completely wipe the fog clear. I feel like I just sort of floated through the weekend. About the only things I accomplished were laundry, washing the stinky dog, and hiding Easter eggs. We spent Easter with my KC family doing our traditional Adult Easter egg hunt and burning of the Easter effigy. This year's effigy was Trump as the Easter bunny. His polyester sports jacket went up in a flash and burned up completely before anyone had time to cue up an appropriate song to play. I drank too much gin along with random shots from airport sized bottles of Fireball and whiskey and tequila. I ate too much food because I'd skipped lunch. I laughed hard and danced a whole lot. A woman at the party told me that I would get breast cancer from wearing my phone tucked into my bra strap. I swallowed the urge to say "lady, you're crazy pants and this is the least of the things that I've exposed myself to over the years of working in a lab that's going to give me cancer." Instead, I respectfully pulled my phone from my bra strap and set it on the table. The woman is older and potentially wiser.

The next morning I woke up an hour late for work. My mouth was dry and I could still smell burning polyester and paper mache. The dog who had spent the evening begging food and chasing Miles around the backyard, was still tucked into my right side under the comforter. We all had hangovers. I spent the day lounging around, getting up on occasion to vacuum and wash the couch blankets. I haven't entered my food in my Loose It app since Sunday morning and I'm feeling the guilt of that settling in. I'm feeling the guilt of all my imperfections settling in and how I should do better, be better, eat better. I should spend less and toss out more. I should be more organized and on top of things. The house should be cleaner. I should be better at verbal communication. I should be teaching yoga. I should be reading more because it makes you a better writer and I should be writing more because I am not a good writer these days.

All of these thoughts makes me mad at myself. I tell myself to snap out of it, don't let yourself fall into the pit of not enough, but it's too late. I've done it and now I have to drag myself out of it. I know it's the hangover talking. At least I think it's the hangover talking. I hope it's the hangover talking because I don't have time to battle with a bought of malaise right now. Maybe I really do have radiation poisoning.



Cindy Maddera

When I was small, on Easter mornings, I'd run to look out the bathroom window. Standing on the toilet and looking out this window gave me a birds eye view of the backyard. This was the best vantage point for spotting any of our brightly colored eggs that the Easter bunny may have hidden in our backyard. Then I'd run down to find my Easter basket. My mother recycled baskets from previous years, but you would not have known this because she always redecorated them with beautiful elaborate bows. Our baskets always contained one new plush bunny rabbit, a chocolate bunny, and some sort of trinket. I'm sure during my Strawberry Shortcake years, that Easter basket contained something Strawberry Shortcake. There were also the usual candies like jelly beans and chocolate eggs in the baskets.

Just about the worst thing ever was running to that bathroom window and seeing that it was raining. I don't know why. Our baskets still had pretty bows and were filled with goodies. Eggs still got hidden. They just got hidden in the living room instead of outside. It's just that hunting eggs in the expanse of my parent's backyard was so much more fun than looking for them under the couch or a lampshade. Sometimes on rainy Easter mornings, the eggs wouldn't be hidden at all. They'd still be crammed in our baskets along with the treats. The sight of my carefully died eggs still in my Easter basket on Easter morning always made my heart sink and mumble something about how the Easter bunny is a jerk. 

Turns out that as an adult, rain is not the worst thing to see out the window on Easter morning. Snow is. Snow. Big wet snow flakes that stick to the cars and form a blanket on the lawn. That has become my new worst. Except, thinking about it now, I realize that if it had snowed on Easter when I was a kid, I would have been over the moon ecstatic. I've gotten cantankerous in my wiser years and cold and snow makes me raise my cane up and shake it at the sky. My cane looks a lot like a camera. By noon, it had all cleared up and the sun came out all in time for Easter services at Terry's which included an egg hunt and the annual burning of the Easter bunny effigy. We ate a lot of egg related food and I still have a half a gallon tub full of deviled egg dip in our fridge. Our fresh eggs looked like we had chewed the shells off, so we just threw it all together in the food processor (minus the shells) with deviled egg spices. Google deviled egg dip. It's totally a thing.  

We all had a grand time at Terry's, even Josephine who got to run with other dogs and be doted on by people other than me or Michael (just me, Michael never dotes), but the whole time I couldn't help but think about Easter's of long ago. I couldn't help but remember the matching Easter dresses or the traditional annual family picture. Most of all, I couldn't help but remember my brother in those baby blue suits, the bell bottoms making him look taller than the sky and how he'd always hide the Easter eggs. As many times as I would ask. That seems to be his way. All I have to do is ask and he's there. I've outgrown the need for him to hide eggs for me. Egg hiding has become things like help us instal a water line or advice on installing a door on the chicken coop. When we talked about installing a new fence around the backyard, he started mentally compiling plans and tools that he'd need. That's the kind of guy he is. 

Today is my brother's birthday. Today is a great day to tell him that I appreciate and love the guy he is. Thanks, Randy for all the hidden Easter eggs and Happy Birthday!


Cindy Maddera

I woke up this morning with parts of a song playing in my head, except I can't place it. I think it might be the Go-Go's and I think the song goes like "breeeeahhhhthing, breathing is free." and it just repeats that line over and over. But when I googled those lyrics, Google had no idea what I was talking about. I mean it had some idea because it brought up 80s songs like "Take my Breath Away" and "Breathe Free" by Ariana Grande. There were lots of links to a yoga breathing studio. So I have no idea what the song is. Those probably aren't even the real lyrics, but some misunderstood interpretation of what I think the lyrics are. I know the tune is for real though. I just do. I'm listening to the Go-Go's now, searching for that song, and I may have to make them my band of the year even though they've been around for some time. Old is new.

So, how was everyone's Easter weekend? Full of jelly beans and Cadberry eggs? Full of eggs? I think Randy and I tied for most deviled eggs eaten in one day. I'm also sure that I had my fill of Betty Crocker circa 1950 recipes. There's still some pistachio salad and strawberry fizz pie in the refrigerator. The Cabbage ate pretty much nothing but candy on Saturday with a few tomatoes and maybe some corn. We dyed eggs. We hid eggs. We found eggs. Then we came home and I made quiche for dinner. No lie. The only one of us who didn't eat eggs was Josephine. She ate a hamburger. The Cabbage got a happy meal when we stopped at the big overpass road stop near Vinita. She ate everything but the hamburger and three fries. Well, she ate four bites of the hamburger until she realized there was something green on it (a pickle) and then stopped eating it. We stopped for an early dinner some where on 71 and left Josephine in the car. When we came out Josephine was sitting right where I'd left her, but now full of hamburger and french fries. She even ate the pickle. 

Josephine probably had the most fun of all of us this weekend. She had a kitten to play with and cat toys. That ball on a string attached to a scratching post is the MOST fun. There were two little dogs that wanted nothing to do with her, but didn't stop her from trying. Cindy and Terry brought Bella over (Josephine's sister) on Saturday night and the two of them played and bickered and played. At one point Michael looked down at the two dogs and then at me and said "do we need to get another dog?" We are not getting another dog, but I was pretty pleased with Josephine's behavior. She scratched at the door when she needed to go out. She did not steal any socks or chew up something she wasn't supposed to be chewing on and she got along very well with the other animals. I feel that Josephine earned her McDonald's hamburger, pickle and all. 



Cindy Maddera

I'm really tempted to fall back on a list of grateful for this week. There's just a bunch of things that are all kind of random this week. So...I'm giving you a list.

  • Yesterday was Stephanie's birthday. She's been my bff since probably 4th grade. I'd never eaten salami or bagels before I met her. One time we ate a whole jar of homemade bread and butter pickles with slices of cheddar cheese. We used to pull the cushions off their couch and line them up next to Steph's bed and that's where I'd sleep when I slept over. I have a box of notes she wrote me during our sophomore/junior year of high school. Once, while riding in the back of the camp trailer, she almost choked on a brownie. Scared the living daylights out of me. She was at my wedding. I was at her wedding. I saw her graduate college and I was there when her first baby was born. Stephanie has gone back to school to become a nurse. It has not been an easy path, but she's tough as nails. She'll graduate this Spring and I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am of her. She's awesome and I'm thankful she's been the twosome to our gruesome. 
  • Robin's mom was hit by a car last week. Thankfully she's going to be OK, just really uncomfortable for a while with two badly broken legs. 
  • Michael fell over with his scooter the other day. I was in the process of trying to turn my scooter around in the garage. He was rolling down the hill to the street, headed to work. I looked up just in time to see his foot slip on the wet grass. He's kind of achy, but nothing is broken and the scooter is fine. It's just that now we are of the age that when we fall down, it hurts.
  • I decided kind of short notice that we should got to Mom's for Easter. It started out as a simple "let's die Easter eggs at Mom's!" to "everyone come over to Mom's for Easter dinner and egg dying and egg hunting!" and I am absolutely fine with this. We're going to eat three different kinds of salad, none of which contain lettuce, two are made with mayo and one is made with Cool-Whip. The Cabbage will have other kids to play with and we will die and hunt Easter eggs. I can't wait. 
  • Last but not least, I am super thankful for those of you who have donated to my AIDS Walk fundraising page. You just have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Here's to a wonderful weekend filled with laughter and love and a truly Thankful Friday!