I think I need a Jattebo in my life—well, in my apartment

Have you ever stumbled across something and thought “I really need this, and I wasn’t even looking for it”?   I did this just recently, and I’m feeling a little excited, wary.

The other night I was watching videos on Youtube of people showing off their new apartments, and one young stockbroker was proud of his (pretty pricey) sectional sofa from IKEA.  I loved the style and color, but I’m not looking for a couch.

But the more I thought about it, I began to wonder “what if I bought just ONE of the sectional pieces?”   This single seat piece costs $530.00. 

It’s surprisingly heavy (and being IKEA, you have to do some minor assembly and even attach the fabric yourself, ugh).  But it opens to reveal storage, and I have the perfect place for it.

When I moved into my apartment in 2017, I bought this olive corduroy floor pillow for watching tv while lying on the floor.  It’s larger than you think, around 26” square.  I don’t really watch TV from the floor anymore.

But the JATTEBO one seater is covered in a similar olive corduroy, and the seating portion is 28” square, like a big square ottoman.  But it also has a 28” high, 10” deep back, behind the seat.  I don’t see myself doing a lot of lounging on it, and it’s much lower in height than my sofa and other chair in the room.

But I think the Jattebo would be a perfect guest chair to just plop down on, no arms or pillows in the way.  And it would be nice to come home and have something to drop my jacket & bags on, when I first walk into my apartment.

Here’s the storage available under the seat, and there’s an optional 10” high headrest you can purchase if the back is too low for you

At least I know the color will work—it complements my navy blue couch, don’t you think?  I have some real thinking to do…

By the way, as long as I’m here I thought I’d show you my other chair.  Two years ago, after getting rid of a cheap brown vinyl chair in my living room I was looking for something brighter and more modern.

I found a white chair I really liked, but worried it wasn’t masculine enough or might clash with my sofa.  And when I showed it to my sister, she said “I’m not sure a white chair is going to work in that room.”

I appreciated her honesty—so I grabbed one of my dining room chairs, draped it with a cream towel and let it sit in my living room for a week to get a feel for the real thing. 

It did help me to decide, and I ordered the white chair, and was very pleased.  More of an off-white, the fabric is a heavy canvas; and I found a super-soft burlap lumbar pillow from an Indian seller on Etsy.  Here’s the before and after pictures.

It takes some getting used to, the first time you sit on it; the seat cushion is suspended from the floor via straps, like an old school lawn chair.  All I know is, it’s sturdy but soft, and I knew it looked just right in here, in front of my extra-large living room window.

I just hope the JATTEBO works out in here as well.  It might even motivate me to put together that coffee table I bought from Wayfair 2 years ago that’s still under my bed.  Stay tuned.

We’re a couple of swells: Our latest outing to the Grant Bar & Lounge

This past Wednesday, a pretty large group of us from the Lutheran Center boarded 2 shuttles for the Grant Bar & Lounge in Millvale, Pa.

Here’s me & Dennis at the center, ready for our road trip 

The Grant Bar has been locally owned & operated by the same family for 90 years, and has a great reputation for their food and service.  They’re also known for their coconut cream pies, and it’s highly recommended you order a piece before you order your meal, because they go fast.

To be honest, I almost didn’t go.  I’ve been dealing with a relapse of the long covid symptoms that seem to be worsening these past couple weeks.

But this chronic condition kept me from attending most of the outings in 2024, so I’m determined to get out there as much as I can.  And on that happy note….

This menu is straight out of the 1970s… but there was lots of good food at good prices. My own bill, with drink & tax came to $18.23.  I also left a $4.00 tip.Here’s Deb who sat directly across from me, looking positively angelic with that light behind her pretty hair!

Dennis:  “I’ll take a bacon cheeseburger and french fries, and a ribeye sandwich and onion rings to take home.  And a bowl of your chicken noodle soup and a salad and a bowl of cottage cheese, and a container of the soup to take home.  Then I want a piece of your coconut cream pie, and a piece of your banana cream pie to take home.  And bring me two Bloody Marys, so I don’t have to wait for my second Mary after I finish my first one.  Did you remember my burger?”Here’s Evvie, looking her usual radiant self—I want to give a big shout-out to Evvie and Mary (who sat on my left), they managed to save me a seat at that very crowded table.  They are very dear friends.Here’s my meal, a Reuben & some of the biggest onion rings I’ve ever eaten.  It was DELICIOUS, I wound up bringing half of it home and having a great dinner too.  The following day when I spoke to Mary, we agreed we should go back there soon.

And finally, one of the ladies (Kim) bought a slice of that famous coconut pie and shared it with Mary and myself.  A tasty treat, thanks Kim.  That’s all, folks

Broccoli cheddar soup for two, isn’t it romantic

The other day when I walked up to the Lutheran Center for lunch, I opened the door and was greeted with a delicious aroma.  I hurried and checked in, went to the dining area, only to learn there’d been a cooking class that morning for cheddar broccoli soup and I missed out.

They said “Doug that’s what you get for only looking at the lunch calendar—we have an activity calendar too, y’know.”  I asked if there was a tiny mouthful left.  “Nope, not a blessed drop!” 

I suddenly felt like George Costanza on Seinfeld, after asking for free bread from the Soup Nazi:  “No soup for you!”  One of the ladies handed me a printout of the recipe, so I thought I’d try and make it myself.  Here’s the ingredients:

Broccoli Cheddar Soup For Two (makes 2 servings)

• 1/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup chopped onion
• 1/4 cup butter
• 1/4 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper
• 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
• 1 1/2 cups 2% milk
• 3/4 cup chicken broth
• 1 cup cooked, chopped broccoli

I’m sure there’s plenty of broccoli soup recipes out there, I think what makes this one special is it’s simplicity; you’re using broccoli you cooked beforehand and you’re only making a small pot.  (But a little goes a long way, you’ll see.)  Now let’s get started!

1. Saute the chopped onion with the melted butter until the onions are tender.  I’m using a smidge more onions than 1/4 cup because that’s how us men roll.2. Stir in the flour, salt & pepper until well blended.

3. Gradually stir in the chicken broth & milk.  This felt so thick, I wound up using 1 cup chicken broth, not 3/4.  Bring to a boil, cooking and stirring until thickened about 2 minutes.4. You should have a tan, silky base.  Add in the precooked broccoli and heat thru thoroughly.5. Remove from the heat and slooowly stir in 1/2 cup of shredded cheddar cheese until melted. I got myself a bowl and sprinkled some more shredded cheese on top.  In hindsight, I wish I’d bought a sharp cheddar, not mild.  It also needed more black pepper.

I enjoyed this with a baked ham & horseradish sandwich, but the second day I heated up a bowl with half a strip of crumbled bacon stirred in, and it was DELICIOUS.  By the way, this actually made enough for 3—just saying!

This past week, it feels like I’m living in the Twilight Zone

This has been a strange week.  I shared my feelings with my friend Diana over the phone last night, she made some polite sounds and I thought “Doug you need to keep your weird stuff to yourself” and now here I am, ready to share it on here.

I don’t believe I’m in a particularly normal state of mind right now, so if this becomes too weird or tiresome for you, I won’t blame you for moving on.

Today is “Day 35” of this strange bloated thing going on with my belly.  It’s not too painful, just tender and uncomfortable.  I get up in the morning, my stomach is bulging on the right side.  As the day wears on and I have a cup of coffee, an egg, a sandwich, some soup or pasta, a cookie… by 7pm I’m looking 7 months pregnant.

I don’t feel constipated, my belly just gets bigger and bigger as the day goes on.  I’m trying to move around more, I hope things return to normal soon.

This past Tuesday, I went to the Lutheran Center for lunch, asked a couple friends there (Mary, Deb) if they’d been summoned for jury duty recently.  Mary said no but you can opt out of serving in Allegheny County if you’re 70 or over.  She asked why I wanted to know, did I receive a jury summons.  I said no, I was just wondering for some reason.

When I returned home, I got on my computer and was going thru my email, and there was a new message from my friend & old classmate Pen.  She asked how I was doing and said she’d spent the previous day at her local courthouse after being summoned for jury duty.  I immediately wrote back and told her what had just happened at the center and one of us must be psychic.  A couple hours later, I began smelling “burning oatmeal” and got a bad feeling that stayed with me until I went to bed.

I woke up Wednesday morning with my face & head burning with long-covid pain.  A really serious relapse, and I worried I was back in it for the long haul.  I sat here most of the day in shock & depression.

The very next day (Thursday) I woke up—still a distended, sore belly—but no head or face inflammation.  It was completely gone.  Relieved, I cleaned up and headed to the center and had one of the nicest afternoons ever, just hanging out and talking to my friends Evvie & Geri.  A couple people offered me a ride home when the center was closing, I said it was such a beautiful day I was just going to walk.  I passed my friend Dennis on the street and he asked me if I was ready to see his place above the bakery, and I told him not yet.  I was headed to Kuhn’s Market to buy stuff to make soup for an upcoming blog.  Life was feeling pretty good.

When I got up yesterday (Friday) morning, my head and face were flushed and burning with pain again.  And here I am a day later, still the same, I can’t even turn or tilt my head without lots of “crackling”.  It’s that long covid inflammation, back at work.  

After weeks of it being mostly gone, why did it return?  At my last trip to the center 2 days ago, I was showing Evvie & Geri my “sore bulge” (that sounds a bit sketchy, doesn’t it) and Cussin’ Connie walked past and said “YOU’RE A DAMN HYPOCHONDRIAC!”

I love her dearly and that made me laugh.  And I’m not going to argue she’s wrong, I just want my old normal back—whatever that was. If you made it this far, thanks for listening.

And Happy Mother’s Day tomorrow to you moms out there.  

 

First visit to my new doctor’s office: It still feels like this

This past Thursday I met my new PCP, to hopefully get a new prescription for Amlodipine for my high blood pressure and have my gut examined (it’s been bloated, sore and hard on the right side for 27 consecutive days). 

Oh and maybe some Flomax for my nocturnal bathroom visits.  It’s been difficult and not very pretty.  I need to go standing up, and at 3am I tend to dribble.  Too much?  Sorry!

Before I say anything else, I want to give a big thank you to my friend Mary from the senior center, who volunteered to drive me.  My new doctor’s office is nearer than my former one in the city, but still a couple miles away.  I installed Uber on my phone, was preparing to reserve a ride a couple weeks in advance when Mary said “Why don’t you let me take you.”   Thank you Mary!

I should add that after my appointment, we headed straight to the center.  When we walked in, Mary said “Oh Evvie, look who I spent the night with!”  

Back to my visit—after I got there and checked in, I was ushered into an examination room to wait.  A nurse came in (a very bubbly 50 year old named Jackie, I liked her) and took my blood pressure and weight, and told me to hang tight.

A short time later, Dr. Cool—I mean Dr. Cole entered the room.  Tall, dark and handsome this man looked like he just stepped out of a daytime soap.  His specialty is ‘older people’.

Dr. Michael Cole, who joined UPMC in 2020

He was very friendly, very polite—asked me why I haven’t had an examination since November 2023, and I explained I’d gotten long covid a month after my last exam, and was finally making a real recovery.  But I’d been halving my meds to make them last longer, which caused my BP to spike.  I was on my regular doses again, but only had 7 pills left.

He said “Your BP is 130 over 88—that’s slightly elevated.”  I said “Doctor, 2 weeks ago it was 155 over 111.  I know you’re the medical expert here, but I thought todays was a big improvement.”

He told me he’d send a prescription to my pharmacy right away and then asked if I’d fasted that morning.  No, I had a cup of coffee and a cookie before arriving.  He said too bad, they could’ve drawn blood for bloodwork while I was there. 

I was both angry and bummed—why didn’t someone from his office call and tell me not to eat or drink anything before my appointment?  Now I have to go back in 2 weeks!

He then asked if I had any difficulty peeing, I said during the daytime it was fine but not the 4 times I get up at night to do my business.  He asked me if I’d like to try Flomax for awhile and I said “If you think it will help…”  

Then he began asking about other prescriptions I’d been on, I said like what?  He said like Dilantin and Phenobarbitol.  Um, those were for seizures I had 50 years ago.  He went through my entire medical history and asked if I’d like an appointment with a dermatologist to get my body examined for melanoma.

I said not right now, my priority was managing my blood pressure, and figuring out why my abdomen has been bloated and sore for 27 days straight.  He told me to lift my shirt and let him see, and said “I think you have some gallbladder inflammation, and it’s pushing against your liver.  You have a history of gallstones, it’s probably just a matter of time before you get it removed.”  

Okay, but what do I do now?  From what I’ve been reading, I suspect it’s gas buildup in the intestines.  I’ve been using a hot water bottle at night, it helps.

He asked if I had any hobbies or friends, and seemed delighted when I told him about my blog and the senior center, and our outings to various restaurants and points of interest.  He asked if I was interested in losing any weight, I said I’d like to lose 20 pounds and get down to 215.  He told me to cut back on my carbs and up my activity, then said “I see you’ve lost a little since your last examination.”  

Dr. Cole, seriously?  According to your computer display, I am 35 pounds lighter than my exam in 2023—I’d hardly call that a little, sir.

Well, the important thing is I am getting back on track with my health.  Next I need to find a dental specialist and begin the process of bone grafts for a couple of much needed molar implants.  I just hope there isn’t an emergency gallbladder surgery in my immediate future! 

 

Picture of the Day: The pump’s off, the pump’s off!

It’s been awhile since I blogged a Picture of the Day, so I thought I’d share this drawing of my family.  I’m surprised I didn’t post this a long time ago, I almost forgot it existed until I came across it recently.

My dad (a talented artist) drew this in 1977.  From left to right was my 2 year old sister Courtney, a 15 year old me jumping for joy (because back then, I hand-washed all my shirts), my brother Steve in the plaid, my long haired sister Shawn with her arms outstretched, our oldest brother Duke behind her with his thick glasses and cap flying off his head.

That’s our sister Donda-Lin tiptoeing, and Dad is holding a giant mallet in front of the kitchen sink.  Last but not least, that’s our poor mom crawling on her hands and knees, face turned towards you & me.

As much as we loved the old farmhouse, we relied on a pretty shallow well.  If you ran the faucet for more than a couple minutes, the pump in the basement would snap on.  Whatever you were doing—washing dishes, your hair, tomorrow’s shirt for school—you had to stop until the pump switched off again. 

It was only for several minutes but was constant and frustrating. 

In 1985, after their herd thinned out some, my parents moved into a new mobile home in a very nice park with “city water”, which pleased my mom to no end.  Everytime I came to visit, she’d say “Doug, do you want to take a shower honey?  We’ve got plenty of water, take as long as you want!” 

She would also tell me to bring my dirty laundry home with me when I visited (I never did).

The funny thing is, to this day I feel guilty when I’m in my own shower for more than a couple minutes.  We were all trained growing up to take “navy showers”.

Of course, I’d happily give up my daily 10 minute shower and return to that well water if I could have these two people back in my life again.  Love and miss you, Mom & Dad.

Mom & Dad, 1977