Our home: our haven

 

The last few days have seen me taking a renewed interest in cooking and house management.. it's been a time of feeling incredibly blessed.

Our home nurtures us so much. It is so comforting to be here, away from the hustle and bustle of life and just snuggling in  here. 

I have just turned 71 and I can honestly say that contentment and joy have caught me by surprise! 

The longings for adventure and new experiences has waned and I am truly content just following my basic routines and pacing myself between tasks.

In an effort to keep feeling peace in our home, I have stopped viewing news videos regarding the end days and I can say it has worked.

As I work on my computer, I have scriptures or some form of worship music playing. 

I am waiting on the LORD to come for us and while I wait, I keep guard on what exactly comes into our home.

I pray a lot that God will keep me in perfect peace because as the wife in our home, my moods and attitudes shape not only my day, but Chris's

Peace is the first thing to go and it's not necessarily from the words we speak. Attitudes speak volumes.

Our home can be a haven from the world for us and we should try to make it a clean and comfortable place that shields us from the world...  Our home is indeed our haven

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

I will walk within my house with a perfect heart.. Psalm 101:2

Ordinary and good!

It's Wednesday morning here. I have just finished putting the groceries I got online away. It's so convenient for Chris and I seeing as we both are unwell

I have done a couple of loads of washing and am thinking about doing some lunch. Toasted cheese and tomato sangers sounds good and easy.  

My kitchen needs to be cleaned but I am out of spoons as I didn't sleep well last night. The weather is changing as it's autumn here and we can experience all seasons in one day. It plays havoc with my fibromyalgia. It's making me feel miserable.

I am thinking of taking a nana nap before I do the kitchen. But before that I will take some Panadol Osteo   to help relieve my fibro pain. Pacing and resting are not an option with fibromyalgia: it's a necessity. 

After I clean the kitchen I will cook chow mein and rice for dinner and if I have enough spoons I will fold the day's clean clothes and put them away.

It's an ordinary day here and I am glad. When you think of what's happening in the world, I can truly gratefully say that God has blessed me with a day that's ordinary and good! 

Cooking is a ministry

Lately with diabetes and heart failure causing Chris to lose his appetite, it has become more important than ever to prepare food for him that he enjoys.

Illness makes one's taste buds change and so the menu I prepare and the ingredients I buy constantly change.

I have to ask him on the day what he fancies to eat and I literally have to coax him to have some food. It can be very challenging.

In order to keep abreast of Chris's changing tastes in food, I keep a whiteboard on my fridge, jotting down things that he enjoyed and I glean Pinterest for ideas on meals. If Chris says he would like to try a recipe I find, it goes on that list too.

When my uncle lived with my mother, and later on my step-father, both of them lived beyond what the doctors expected (cancer and emphysema), and I credit that to Mum's good and plain cooking.

Chris knows this and forces himself to eat sometimes, but he never finishes a meal. Because a large plate of food nauseates him, I serve them in smaller plates. You learn as you go along.

I can well remember my ailing step-father Max sitting eating without obvious enjoyment and I asked him if he liked the meal. His answer has stayed in my mind to be implemented now in Chris's time of illness.

He said nothing was wrong with the meal, but his appetite was gone and he only eats because he knows he has to. And so I tell Chris when he refuses to eat. I remind him of what Max said. So he eats.

Nutritionally, all of Chris's blood tests come back normal. So he's getting enough iron and so on..

With cutting carbs and sugar as well as lack of teeth thrown into the mix, it can get frustrating at times. I make it a priority to include these needs into my prayer time each morning along with a request for necessary spoons (energy) with my fibromyalgia.

Apart from wisdom in meal preparation, God's been teaching me patience, kindness and endurance... and because nutrition is so important to us, I know the Man Who cooked breakfast for His disciples doesn't mind at all... cooking is a ministry!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks 

"When they landed, they saw a charcoal fire there with fish on it, and some bread. Jesus told them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many, the net was not torn.

“Come, have breakfast,” Jesus said to them. None of the disciples dared to ask Him, “Who are You?” They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and He did the same with the fish." -John  21:9-12

For me, it's spoons!

It's Sunday morning here. I have brought in the online groceries and checked them off and put them away. 

I will soon be taking Chris's bloods and doing breakfast. Breakfast will be eggs and bacon and a cup of tea. Lunch will be ham and salad sandwiches. For dinner, I am doing a vegetable intensive beef stew. Fresh fruit for desert.

There's a hamper of clean clothes to fold and then I will be up to date with washing. Later I plan to make some coleslaw, if spoons permit. 

That's about it for today, except for cooking dinner. I don't want to put myself into another fibromyalgia flare or I won't have spoons to help my daughter tomorrow. As I always say: most jugglers juggle balls, for me it's spoons! 

More spoons to enjoy life.

We have just moved and we are both quite tired still. Although the house is functional, there's still a lot of unpacking to do.

This weekend, two of our grandchildren wanted to come see us and give us their verdict of the new house. Knowing that memories are all we will have once they are grown, we agreed to have them.

Although I am suffering from a bad fibromyalgia flare, I got dressed and stayed up in order to spend time with them.

We cooked lunch together and watched family videos of when they were first born and growing up. It was fun but it was also non taxing to my sore body. 

Today I am expecting a lady to come clean for a couple of hours. She did such a good job of cleaning our old house for our bond return, that I asked her if she would like to do a regular clean for us once a fortnight. She agreed.

With my poor daughter suffering from fibromyalgia as well and now living two minutes away, she also agreed to clean her house after ours each fortnight as well.

Both my daughter and I are finding just cooking, cleaning our kitchen, doing washing, grocery shopping, running errands like going to the chemist, planning finances and feeding our pets is enough of a job. We need some extra help.

There's very little help here for chronically ill people who can't do housework. What little we did get has been stopped since a new government has taken over the reins. So we have to pay privately.

I am grateful that I can save enough each fortnight to afford a cleaner's help. It not only keeps my home clean, but gives me more spoons to enjoy life.

 

"It is what it is!"

A friend of mine posted this on her Face Book wall and it was so simple and doable that I wanted to share this with you.

My hands are deformed with arthritis and I have little strength in them. Opening these ring pull cans have always been a challenge to me. 

Those cans that need a can opener are  simply not purchased anymore. I cannot use one as the arthritis restricts movement.

My fibromyalgia is paining me today and I didn't sleep well last night, so I will be cleaning my kitchen and psyching myself up to take a shower. That and cooking meals is all I will be doing today.

Meals will be Jewish Penicillin in my slow cooker.

It's not much to show for the vast amount of spoons I will need today, but as the young ones always say, "It is what it is!"

A helpful guide

As reported on the news, there will  be food shortages in the future, so I have been building my pantry and freezer up.

I am not living in fear, but rather I am trying to emulate that wise woman in Proverbs 31. She was not afraid of winter because she was prepared. I want to be prepared too.

As you probably know, I have been cooking extra meals and doing a cookup on days I have some spoons. It's been working marvellously well for me. Especially for those days when my fibromyalgia is flaring. I simply grab and defrost a couple of meals and dinner is done.

I make sure everything is clearly marked and dated so that I can rotate the food and not have it sit there until it is out of date.

One thing that I noticed when freezing my meals is that the label came off and I couldn't identify what the meal was and how old it was. So I read that masking tape doesn't fade or come off easily and I did that. It's true.

I came across this guide of shelf life for pantry items and I posted it here for our easy reference. Goodness knows, food's too expensive to waste, so this should be a helpful guide. 

 

Ordinary but good

It's Friday morning here. I have just finished putting the groceries I got online away. It's so convenient for Chris and I seeing as we both are unwell

I have done a couple of loads of washing and am thinking about doing some lunch. Toasted cheese and tomato sangers sounds good and easy.  

My kitchen needs to be cleaned but I am out of spoons as I didn't sleep well last night. The weather is changing as it's autumn here and we can experience all seasons in one day. It plays havoc with my fibromyalgia. It's making me feel miserable.

I am thinking of taking a nana nap before I do the kitchen. But before that I will take some Panadol Osteo   to help relieve my fibro pain. Pacing and resting are not an option with fibromyalgia: it's a necessity. 

After I clean the kitchen I will cook chow mein and rice for dinner and if I have enough spoons I will fold the day's clean clothes and put them away.

It's an ordinary day here and I am glad. When you think of what's happening in the world, I can truly gratefully say that God has blessed me with a day that's ordinary and good! 

No mojo with fibro

So leading up to Christmas, I had my 9 year old granddaughter Taylah, stay with us until Christmas Eve, when she would be taken home in plenty of time for Santa to come.

I promised Tay that we would make Christmas cookies make cubbies, play school, go swimming and have a play date with her cousins. 

Day one started out well and we played school, office workers and shop keepers. I showed Tay how to touch type, taught her a bit of Italian and French in a fun way and then I promptly ran out of spoons.

I simply had to give in to the pain and take some Tramadol to keep going. I made some lunch and felt like I might pass out. Dizziness assailed me and I felt vomity. Probably the Tramadol.

I had to explain to Tay that I love having her here, but am not well and I need to take a nana nap. She got a crash course in fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. 

She had lost her paternal grandmother last week and was very anxious about me so I didn't want to frighten her too much, so I said that if I don't go to rest for an hour that I would not enjoy her stay because I would be cranky. If I went to bed just for an hour, I would enjoy it so much more, and so would she.

As she accepted this fact, she immediately bombarded me with "but I thought we were making cookies, playing out side and making a cubby house?" I told her we could do all that if I took a nap. She said OK then got her ipad out. I went to bed and allowed the Tramadol to do its magic. It didn't.

No, it didn't do anything except make me nauseous, even after a 20 minute nap. That was all I got. So, I got up, made us all a cup of tea and sat down with Chris to watch a video he wanted to show me.

Taylah pouted and demanded to make cookies, as I had had a nana nap. Groaning, I got up and started taking ingredients out to make the cookies. 

After that, I was too exhausted to clean the kitchen. I cooked dinner and then it was time for Tay to have her bath. That wasn't a big deal as she's nearly ten, but she wanted me to play MacDonalds with her, so I got some wooden spoons and plastic cups for her to play with. 

I sat on my shower stool and bought some Big Macs,"no pickles, no onion and a soft serve cone for my daughter." We blew bubbles with the Imperial Leather soap and I did what Fibromites do best: I tried to hide my pain and pretended to have a good time.

By 9 o'clock I insisted that Tay go to bed and I joined her. Before we went to sleep, she told me she missed her mother and wanted to go home.

In the morning, she assured me she loved being here and she loved me but wanted her mum. I told her I understood and that it was fine. We would take her home. She was humming to herself as she played teacher and when I went to the fridge, I found a love note from her to me.

I was glad as I worried she didn't stay with us longer because I was a boring old lady. And I fear I am. Cos everyone knows there's no mojo with fibro.