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“To die, to sleep – to sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub, for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…” – Hamlet

It is Friday the Thirteenth, of January 2023, and nothing is really happening. I am far too superstitious to willingly journey out on such a day, but I will report of things that have occurred since my last entry.

The quote from Hamlet speaks to the night before last: when Kenny, engaged in fitful sleep and night terrors, managed to squeak out my name twice, in a plea for me to wake him. Something similar to my name.. through clenched teeth and his CPAP mask, it sounded more like Cheryl. Keep dreaming till you get it right, Kennikins! 💤

Like Beetlejuice, the third request was key, and I shook him awake then fell back to sleep, myself. Of course, I am kidding.. I am well trained after these decades of marital bliss, to spring into action and wake him immediately. But sometimes the temptation is there…

Similar to the temptation I felt prior to Kenny’s hip surgeries, while pushing him in a wheelchair at the Fort Myers airport: to hurl him down the escalator! You see, my poopsie pie is a born knower of everything and supervisor, while I am a defiant rebel. ✊ At the time, he was being all high maintenance and instructing me how to roll his wheelchair that was attached to all our luggage. 🤨

Oopsie daisy, down the hatch! ♿

No, not really; but I certainly answer him with my fantasized intention, should he not cut it out! 😍

Even though his knowitall ways can rub me the wrong way at times, he’s right 99.9% of the time.

We finally celebrated Christmas with two-thirds of the kids and the complete set of weird grandkids. Our youngest weird grand had Covid the week of Christmas, so we had to wait it out… which made Christmas Day and the week that followed super depressing, and ghost-like. All is back in order now thankfully: illness gone, food eaten, hours of wrapping destroyed and replaced with gleeful giggles and snark. 🎄

Isn’t it sometimes irritating just how much your happiness is connected to your kids and offshoots?

I also finally made the perfect pecan pie, recipe courtesy of my BFF, Dana Doodle. Here it is, if you want to try it yourself.

Recipe: Southern Bourbon Pecan Pie

  • 1/4 cup butter, cubed
  • 1 cup sugar
  • 1 cup dark corn syrup
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1/4 cup bourbon
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Pinch salt
  • 1-1/2 cups pecan halves
  • 1 frozen deep-dish pie crust (9 inches)

Preheat oven to 325°. In a large saucepan, combine butter, sugar and corn syrup. Cook over medium-low heat until sugar is dissolved; cool slightly. In a large bowl, whisk eggs, bourbon, vanilla and salt; slowly whisk in sugar mixture. Stir in pecans; pour into crust. Place on a baking sheet. Bake until a knife inserted in center comes out clean, 55-60 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

Everything is really expensive suddenly and as a rule, I am nervous about building debt. I updated my resume and sent it to my headhunter, and a few additional places. One position in particular, I would really love to tie down! But I am so not telling you the details.. yet. Friday the 13th and all.

I like being semi-retired, but I also like not being destitute! I have my limited clients to keep me busy, sure! But the problem with that is I get too invested in their success and forget my own… or to even bill them. What can I say, administrative/clerical duties are not my strength.

In other news, my mom is coming to visit at the end of the month, which gives me something to look forward to, in yucky Winter. I’m sure I mentioned that I hate cold weather… if not, here’s your memo!

Beyond the wintertime blues, I probably seem a bit down. My good friend and neighbor went downhill while we were in Florida: from stroke survivor with early onset dementia, to the final stages of vascular dementia. I didn’t understand until now, that vascular dementia is more aggressive than Alzheimer’s. I broke out into tears in her living room.. which was not at all helpful to her husband who asked us to help with her one day before Christmas. I reacted a little judgmentally, which I later apologized for. We all want to die someday in the comfort of our beds, snuggled against our boo.. but the fates have other things in mind for us sometimes.

Life is cruel and the most you can hope for is that you spent the best days of your life with the one you love.

Ain’t I just a ray of sunshine!

In better news, Kenny and I had a lovely lunch yesterday with our daughter, Ashley. During which we sent a PROST! photo to our friends, Oscar and Heather. In accordance with the freaky rules of toasting Germans, we made sure to look them square into the eyes of their phones, lest we be cursed to seven years of bad sex!


All in all, things are looking up in a big way. I hope to have more to tell you next time! ❤️

UPDATE: March 23, 2023

I am very sorry to have to report that my neighbor, friend and beautiful artist, Sheri Rieth, passed away at 2:30 this morning. She had declined suddenly last December with vascular dementia so this wasn’t a shock, but there’s no way to be ready.

She was the first person who crossed my threshold after we moved to Coldwater, letting me know her house was the one with the Obama sign in the yard (even though it was Fall of 2017). I danced with her in my kitchen upon that revelation.

In two of the four NASTY WOMEN Memphis art exhibits I produced and curated, Sheri submitted and showed her work. She was a beautiful printmaker and mixed media artist. I am so lucky to have known her, and bought some of her work that I can look at and draw on memories of her beautiful life.

She was the professor over printmaking at Ole Miss for more than 30 years and her legacy lives not only in her work, but the important role she played in the development of her students.

Sheri, I miss and love you. Thank you for being exactly who you were. Until we meet again. ❤️

Chelle Ellis
the authorChelle Ellis

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