Ups and Downs


I have been remiss in posting; it has been a big week-a
roller coaster week.  I had a
birthday Monday, with Rachel had a birthday on Thursday, and we had planned a
family fest at Carnivale for Thursday night.  I have always wanted to eat there, and it did not
disappoint.  The food was beautiful
to see, and wonderful to taste.  I
had googled and yelped the restaurant so I could know in advance what needed to
be tasted.  Quite honestly, there
were so many things that sounded amazing that I programmed the family to order
things I wanted to try.  To that
end, we had guacamole Kleiner style, corn, Mexican style, and Carnivale style mac
and cheese as tapas.  I
subliminally seduced Steve to have short ribs, and Matt to have the pork chop,
and I was free to have skirt steak. 
The girls had fish- and it looked wonderful, but I was on an unhealthy
eating bender.  The raspberry
mojito was elegant and fresh, and the chocolate mousse birthday cake ended the
night with perfection.  I
demonstrated the Kindle, which I renamed the Jandle.  I allowed the boys to ridicule me for previewing the menu,
and Steve for bowling 135.  That is
what kids do- I am immune to their scorn. 
I photographed the food as they recoiled from my flashes-that is what I

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 Steve’s Dad was kind enough to treat us all to dinner, and
that represents a bridge that is most welcome.  Life is short; family is precious. 

Now Mike is in New York City for a wedding, Pat is in Zurich
with the Blackhawks, and Matt is on a Pet Lions retreat in Wisconsin to write
songs.  I was anxious watching all
their taillights fade on Thursday, especially Matt’s, since they were attached
to a 250cc Yamaha motorcycle.  Despite the
fact that he took the motorcycle safe riding class, and that he
wears a helmet, I am ill at ease with the uber-open road.  I am a mom.  When I ask him to call when he arrives home, he forgets, and
I stew.  I am always going to stew
about motorcycle riding.  At any rate, there
will be no Dahl Bears Sunday tomorrow with the broad dissemination of the troops.  The football shaped crockpot will know no smoky links.  That is probably a good thing.   


All during the week, the background text in my life is that
my brother Mike, younger than I by 2 years, is ill.  It is his heart, and it is serious, and we are all anxiously
awaiting test results Monday.  He
is in the hospital, is stable, and safe. 
Still, he is my brother, and I am very distracted.  I like to fix things, and clearly, I am
not credentialed for heart procedures. 
I can barely decipher the terminology.  Mike worked like a slave when we broke down Dad’s condo, and
the “what-ifs” are haunting.  He
carried an old projection screen TV up from the basement with my other brother,
he moved furniture, carted stuff to the dumpster.  What if? What now? 


Time will tell us what is going to happen.   I am sure that his odometer will be reset and he will be fine
tuned and recalibrated.  He is
young, and generally healthy.The Joliat family is in crisis mode, and we are
all attached to good thoughts. We all promise to eat better.  


I probably should have made better choices at Carnivale.  But just look at the skirt steak:


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