“It’s a mosquito bite.”

 (The title should be read with a Greek accent from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Thanks for filling that voice in for me.)

For you to fully understand this event that took place in the dead of night while I was sleeping, you should know that I had a Rhinoplasty about 6 months ago. 

… Stop that imagination…

For those not in the medical field, it means I had a nose job; it was for medical reasons that I shall not go into for it would detract from the purpose of this anecdote.  The only thing you need to know is it was extremely painful and it takes a full year to recover.  :-D

             So, I was asleep in my bed when I heard a noise, a buzzing noise. This noise went from one ear to the next back and forth, the insect was definitely scoping out fresh meat. 

I stirred.  

She landed. Right. On. My. New Nose.

My new nose!

In my sleepy delirium I saw her on the tiptop of my nose, that bloodsucking insect thought she had a sense of humor landing on my new nose. Well, I showed her; I smacked her straight off!

Then I cried in pain; protected myself with a heavy-duty pillow, and fell back asleep.

The next morning I learned not to mess with blood-sucking vindictive creatures when I saw the three swollen bites across my forehead, and thanks to my protective husband, she didn’t get the last laugh due to the electric shock that sucked the life right out of her. 

And That’s All Folks!!!

Japanese Baseball Fanatics

"Go Fight, Win Tonight!!!" just doesn't cut it for the passion the Japanese express for their favorite teams. Going to a ball game here doesn't mean you can sit on the sidelines and enjoy a deliciously fatty hot dog - no, one must be prepared with their best clapping hands and cheering voices, because the Japanese take cheering their team on to a whole new level.  They cheer the ENTIRE time their team is up for bat, and each player has their own chant.  What is even more interesting is that the entire crowd seems to know when exactly they are to cheer and what they are cheering; and, contrary to American cheerleaders, these cheerleaders are constantly moving through the stands encouraging the crowd to join in by giving high-5's and clapping consistently.

When a hit or run is made the entire stadium erupts into song and dance, flag waving is an obvious choice for expressing their joy for their teams success! Go Lions!


I went to a game last year with my friend Tavi, her mom, and Don; we had so much fun I had to bring my parents to a game on their visit to Japan (who are currently enjoying a Japanese curry in this photo).  My friend Dano also came with us and was a huge help in encouraging my parents to try new foods. As you can see, hot dogs are not the only thing served at here during a baseball game. There are a variety of foods to choose from such as ramen, Japanese and Indian curry, yaki tori (chicken on a stick) and more traditional hot dogs.  Being gluten-free does present a problem here as most of the food is not GF friendly; however, I have found that yaki tori is usually a great selection for me. It's is chicken pieces grilled on a stick and is covered in a teriyaki sauce, which almost always has some wheat in the sauce; so, I request that they make it with no sauce and for my needs it is usually enough, though someone with a severe allergy would likely still have a problem due to cross contamination.  I try my best to limit these incidences though living in another country with a huge language barrier can prove to be more than challenging.  In spite of the risk, the yaki tori was flavored with a little salt and was a delicious dinner just enough for me.

At the beginning of the 7th inning each set of team fans release "victory balloons".  All of the fans from each side blow up these massive team colored balloons and release them into the air at the same time, though I'm not fully sure of the significance of the action it is quite amusing and the sight of hundreds of balloons flying into the air is really cool.


 I'm not sure Dano or my parents believed me about the odd shape of the victory balloons....





All in all we had a great time at the game and the Lions won 5-0! GO LIONS!!! WOOOHOOO!!! This clip is here to give you an idea of their fanatic enthusiasm.

Peanut Butter COOKIES!!!

Cookies are a large part of my dietary history.  Who doesn’t love cookies? Well maybe my husband, but even he likes these! When I could eat wheat I usually had some premade cookie dough in the fridge or baked cookies in the freezer ready at a moments notice. I love cookies! My wheat allergy changed my life in so many ways; I feel that I am searching for new cookie recipes that really meet the challenge. Many of the recipes I have tried have not impressed me, those cookies out of a box are actually pretty good, and so I have been reluctant to try from scratch.  Some recipes I have tried just get thrown out, but this one is really very good.

I found it on www.shockinglydelicious.com titled “5-ingredient Gluten-Free Flourless Peanut Butter Cookies” (It’s a mouthful so I shortened the title).  It’s not a site geared for those that are gluten-free, but this recipe is gluten-free friendly and super simple.

Flourless Peanut Butter Cookies

Makes about 2 dozen cookies

You will need:

1 egg

1 cup sugar

1 cup Peanut butter (crunchy works best!)

1 tsp Gluten-Free Vanilla extract

1 tsp baking soda 

Raw sugar crystals for garnish

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and prepare a baking tray. Blend egg, sugar, and vanilla extract together for one minute and then add the baking soda and peanut butter( I added a 1/2 tsp of baking soda from the original recipe, and they are much fluffier). Blend for another minute, until everything has an even consistency. The dough will be fairly firm. Use a spoon to make small balls of cookie dough and place them on the sheet, then use a fork to make the crisscross pattern. Sprinkle the tops with the raw sugar crystals. Bake them for 11 minutes.  Make sure you allow the cookies plenty of time to cool on the tray because they are fragile when they come out of the oven. 

Enjoy!

The Joyful Father

Dread covered the Japanese man’s face, it said all that needed to be said which was, “I screwed up.” At which point I found myself getting into his car thinking there’s little chance I would ever trust someone so willingly in America.

Here I was in a car with an English speaking Japanese man contemplating my situation. On one hand I could be snowboarding for three whole days with my husband and friends, on the other I could be at home continuing my recovery from my recent rhinoplasty.  Instead I joined them on a ski and snowboard trip for three days in the Japanese Alps at a resort called Shiga Kogen. It was decided that snowboarding was not an option for me as previously thought because I could not wear goggles over my face as it caused more pain and pressure on my nose.  This was not an easy situation for me to swallow, be it pride, anxiety of needing to do something, or mere desire to be with the one I love as much as possible, I stayed behind as others joyfully skied down the snow covered mountains; thus, I entertained myself in rural Japan for 3 days.

What to do? Snow monkeys. I strongly dislike monkeys. So be it, I will see them.  The people at the front desk told me to take a particular bus at the following times to get there and then they gave me a bus schedule which was in Japanese… This should be easy.

I walked down to the supposed bus stop and asked the man helping park cars which side of the street I should stand on as there were two signs.  He asked me where I was going and directed me to a different bus at a different location and time.  I returned to the hotel lobby to wait.

Just to double check I asked a different person at the front desk and they told me that I should take the bus someone had previously told me to take… At this rate it would take me 3 days just to get forty minutes down the mountain. Okay, I’ll wait with some cookies and tea. 

Time passed.

I saw the nice Japanese man on my way back down to the bus.

“What’s up?”  he asked.

“I asked the front desk and they are certain I should take this bus.”

“Huh, come with me.” We walked back towards the hotel, away from the bus stop.  Can it be this hard?

He stopped at the bus stop at the very front of the hotel, he looked worried and I saw a bus drive away from the other stop; we walked back to the first bus stop.  He talked with a co-worker, and came jogging back to me, pointing to the car.

At first he looked devastated that he had made me miss my bus twice. He quickly drove the tiny stick-shift box all the way down to the bus station, it’s amazing boxes can drive that fast. The bus depot was fifteen minutes away; of course I couldn’t help starting a little conversation:

“Do you ski?”

“Yeah, I like to ski. Do you?”

He asked me a couple of general questions and finally I asked, “Do you have family?”

The smile stretched across his face, “Yes, my wife,” and the smile that couldn’t get any bigger did, “and my son. His birthday was last month.” 

“Oh, how old is he?”

For a moment he stuttered in excitement, “Last month he was born!”

“WOW, that’s exciting! Congratulations!”

“Thank you! I’m so excited! I’m a DAD!” His smile was glowing with joy, “I’m a dad!”

What an experience to see the joy on this man’s face, and it was worth the runaround. If every child could see these moments of joy on their parents’ faces when they are born I think the world would be a different place.  It was God’s gift of the day to me to see that father’s joy.

The joyful father apologized for making me miss my bus, and I reassured him that everything was fine and I was grateful to have a ride to the bus stop.  He was so kind, and I was so happy to meet him, though I think he was lacking a little sleep.

No use crying over spilled Milk, but perhaps spilled Wine

I laughed with my friend who was sitting across the room full of ladies, and as I turned away I saw it happen.  The glass of burgundy red wine I had been holding in my hand hit the high backed chair and fell onto my light brown corduroy pants, splashing onto the floor where it covered my socks, the back of the high-back chair, the floor, the cloth coffee table and at least one other guest.  I swear it fell for an eternity, if only gravity wasn’t so stubborn.

In a flash a team of high skilled housewives were on the job cleaning up my mess when they could have been counting dots on the die ready to win a Bunco.  And as just as the glass had fallen, so did my burdens.

“I am so sorry! It’s everywhere! I’m covered. I can’t believe this. My entire day has been like this.”

At least five women tried to console me with, “its okay, it happens”. There was no consoling my day…

“This is a day I should have slept through! I woke up bumped my newly refurbished nose, got glutened off of communion bread at church, went to lunch with friends and had a tummy ache after, came home to an almost migraine and a super excited puppy, then did the most idiotic thing I could have possibly done. I drove. I drove here. Of course it only takes that one time, I answered my phone while driving and the gate guard caught me. Now I have a citation, and spilled wine. Can this get more dramatic?”

My dear friend piped in with, “Her husband is gone for the month to train in the states and then he’s leaving for his first deployment to the desert.”

Tears welled. Mine. Not again.

The floor was clean, probably cleaner than it had been in a long time. I sprayed Oxy-Clean over my wine drenched clothes. The room filled with the smell of cleaner.  There’s not one sweatshirt I own without a stain, why not wine?

Several women began consoling me with tips on how to get through it and suddenly I realized it is possible, in spite of my hatred of the situation. All things are possible with God, are they not?

A lady asked me if I wanted more wine, “No I think I’m done. I give up; it’s just not my night.”

Another walked over to my table with two glasses of wine.

One woman jested, “Hey two glasses?”

“I felt bad for her; I’m going to have a glass with her.” So the sweet lady and I sat at the table drinking a new, fuller glass of wine.

These women are truly special and an encouragement to me. I am thankful to know them.

And that was the end to a day of ridiculous “Bolda-Luck”. Though, the next day I was graciously informed that my driver’s license would be revoked for 30 days all for a phone call. When I shared all of this to my dearest husband he just laughed and told me I was having an I Love Lucy day, well babe, as long as you still love me, you can call me “Lucy”.