I baked the chicken breasts with yogurt a few days ago. It was okay, but since I only used two breasts, perhaps a whole cup of yogurt was overkill.

Then another night I made the second recipe Jeri posted (from Fredo) for baked chicken thighs and I wanted to give Ed a choice because he is not adventurous palate-wise, so I took 4 thighs and pan broiled them in a little oil as I usually do (no breading). And the other four I coated with yogurt and then saw that my huge box of corn flakes was all but empty. So, %^&*&^, I took a bag of sage dressing left over from the holidays, stomped on it to make it less clunky, and used that and it turned out all right, if a bit more caloric.

I am looking around for a hypnotherapist because my nightmares are becoming unmanageable and my sister’s death has escalated the condition. I won’t stop waking up because I think that is sleep apnea at work, but perhaps I can trick my subconscious into not associating everything with doom.

I went along again with Ed as he visited a ward, bought TVs for two other wards, and tromped around two different Wal-Marts looking for a cell phone with push buttons and a large screen for another. I hadn’t expected to be doing so much walking so wore leather shoes with a little heel and got footsore and also worn out. We went straight to the electronics section at Wal-Mart, only to learn that the wireless stuff was a mile away at the other end of the store. They're going to hear from me about that.

At home, I lay down for a rest, fell asleep and was awakened by a bolt of thunder that certainly almost hit the house, or so it seemed. And for a minute I thought Ed had been killed. Also, Brunswick was outside, so we rescued him. Little guy came running in the minute we opened the pool door. He refuses to use the pet door. Ya can’t fix stubborn. So I picked him up and apologized (with kisses) for forgetting him outside.

Speaking of cat stuff, every night I take some vitamins with 2% Lactaid milk. Chewy always wants some and makes a racket until I pour some for him in a little saucer. I made a mistake at the market recently and bought fat free milk instead. I was forcing my way through it. Chewy, however, turned up his nose at this healthy stuff and stomped away. Can’t blame him. It is ghastly. So I finally threw out the last part of the container and got my regular stuff, but Chewy is suspicious that it will taste awful so he is not coming around as much as he used to.

I located a friend from my Times Books days – she doesn’t have a Face Book page but a search on Facebook will find people’s data anyway. I wrote her a letter. I was very fond of her. I hope she will respond.

When I stopped in at Don’s (b.i.l.), two of their three grandchildren had driven over from the East Coast (about 4 hours) and we renewed acquaintance. They are son Johnny’s kids, Lesley Ann, first born, and brother Chris – 20 somethings. I don’t know them well at all but it was nice to get great aunt hugs and condolences from family who, by all accounts should be closer but somehow are just out of reach. I missed seeing their dad, my nephew, by a day when he came to see his mom for the last time at the hospital. Johnny has only recently remarried to his long-time friend, Jan, after being widowed. His first wife, Shirley, died of cancer in her 30s. Johnny hasn’t been too present in my life in the last three years and that may have something to do with the alienation between Don and Ed. I did not want to raise that issue with him, so let things be. Sort of a divided loyalty thing, perhaps. But this situation saddens me because one ought to be forgiving and not dig in and wallow in anger, leaving the sisters, Tula and me, twisting slowly in the wind

I have gained some comfort from my two first cousins, Connie (Costandina)and Tom (Taso), children of my mother’s sister. They have always been in our corner and are quite saddened at Tula’s passing. I’d love to see them but they live in Illinois and Connie will not fly and Ed and I have issues with travel that takes us away from the kitties for more than a day or two.

Then I phoned my friend Rose, whose brother I was engaged to in 1948 when I was 17 and he was 23. He died that November. That is a whole other story. I did write about him once on Blogster. Rose and I are still close although we don’t have much contact. She is 5 years older than me, and is feeling the weight of her years. She remembers Tula quite well, and was very sad at her passing. Rose is not feeling confident enough to travel because of a heart condition. She fears being caught away from home without the proper medical attention.

The sadness of the past few days is making me reach out, but this is something I have always done. I don’t need an event, although one does trigger the need to find my people.

xx, Teal