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I’ve been sick all week.  I don’t like being sick.  Therefore, this week hasn’t been that great.  I sat on the couch almost all day on Monday.  Tuesday I stayed home from work.  Wednesday and Thursday I felt exhausted all day.  I have more strength today, but my nose and throat are acting like faucets.  There’s a great image for you.  And while you’ve got that mental picture let me give you another one.  If it was my job to come up with cold medicine I would make a pill.  This pill is not like other cold pills on the market.  After taking this pill you would have about one or two minutes to get ready, and by “get ready” I mean position yourself in front of a garbage can or toilet.  After you assume the “ready position” you would wait for the medicine to kick in.  You see, the stage of the cold that I’m in right now is my least favorite.  I hate having my nose run all the time.  I hate having to hock phlegm up out of my throat.  I hate that there’s seemingly no end in sight.  And that’s why I would create this pill.  When the medicine kicks in it would drain your body of all that excess phlegm and snot that make this stage of the cold so miserable.  This is why the garbage can or toilet is so crucial, because it gets messy.  Your nose and throat expel all that junk simultaneously.  I would trade one minute of disgusting fluid removal for a day of sniffing and hocking.  Oh yeah, on the bottle there would be a warning label.  It would let people know that by taking this pill they are increasing their risk of choking, so it is recommended to have another person around while the medicine is working.  It is also recommended to dial 9-1-… and have a finger on the last 1 incase something goes wrong.  I’m still working out some of the kinks, but I think it’ll be a big hit.  I’m also looking for some guinea pigs to test the drug on.  If you have one, send it my way.  I’ll also accept rabbits.

On a different note, it’s been difficult for me to be sick with Lauren around.  When I’m sick, which is only about once a year (PTL), my preference is to hide away from the world until the cold passes.  No one should have to be around me when I’m sick.  I get whiny and pitiful and more annoying than normal.  When I was single I would create a stockpile of medicine, food, Kleenex, TV remote, and anything else I might need around the couch and sit there until the cold had run it’s course.  Being married is different.  She shows me that she loves me by the way she cares for me.  If I refuse to let her care for me, then I’m refusing love from her.  And just in case any of you were wondering, Lauren is an amazing, compassionate, caring, thoughtful, and gentle person to have had take care of me.  This should be no surprise to those of you who know her.  Watching her take care of me makes me even more excited to see her care for our family (when that time comes).

If you pray, pray for my recovery.  I’m tired of being sick.
I’m hoping to put a few more thoughts down today.  I’m in the mood to write.


It’s been about 3 weeks since I’ve posted last.  As I thought about writing this post I realized that it was going to end up sounding like most of my journal entries lately. 

“I wish I wrote more often.”
“I wish I had more time to write.”
“Maybe if I took the time to write more I wouldn’t feel so stressed out.”
“I’m awesome.”

Well maybe not that last one, but I wonder why it is so easy for me to dwell on these thoughts?  Am I looking for excuses or comfort?  Is this my way of challanging myself to write more often?  Or am I just complaining to myself?  If I was honest I would say that it’s probably a combination of all 3. 

Certainly my reasons for writing in a journal and writing this blog are different.  My thoughts are often more raw and personal when I write them in my journal, and here I hope my thoughts to be more comtemplative.  In both mediums, however, I realize that writing thing out is very important for me.  The act of writing helps me work through things when I don’t have another person to talk with.  

There are times when I really want to write, but don’t have the patience to sit down and write.  Other times I want to write about something that has happened rescently, but don’t feel like “dwelling on the past.” 

So what are your excuses?  Why do you not write when you know you want to? 


I realize that I’m very late in posting this.  It just slipped my mind.  Forgive me, please.  I realize that as I reflect on this occasion now my thoughts and feelings are probably different then they were at that moment.  My hopes for writing these Spotted Cow Tales was to capture a moment in time, and to reflect on a specific moment weeks later can easily loose the impact of that occasion.  On the other hand, writing some time later offers an opportunity to step back and look at the moment in a much larger lens.  For good or bad, here’s the latest installment of my Spotted Cow Tales.

There are moments in life that seem to slip by, almost unnoticed.  There are moments that we take for granted because they have become routine.  There are moments that we don’t notice because we have numerous other things going on at the same time.  And then there are moments that we never expect to have any impact on our lives.  A few weeks ago Lauren and I shared one of those moments.  I don’t remember what day it was, but we were sitting on the couch together watching TV.  I don’t even remember what show we were watching.  Truth be told, I probably wouldn’t even remember the moment if it didn’t involve a Spotted Cow.  I’m not saying that the Spotted Cow defined that moment for me (sorry New Glarus), but since I’ve been writing about each of the six bottles it became something that I forced myself to think about.

There really isn’t much to even say about our evening.  I offered Lauren a Spotted Cow, and she declined because she felt like those were mine.  I assured her that I would be more than happy if she would have one.  “You’re worth it,” I told her.  I got up from the couch, walked over to the fridge, pulled the Spotted Cow from the fridge, opened the top, and brought it back to her.  That’s it.  I feel as if I’ve even romanticized the moment by writing about getting up and getting it from the fridge.  We sat a watched TV.

I’m glad that I’ve waited to write this chapter until now.  It’s been good to think back to that seemingly unimportant evening.  Life has been so busy for both of us lately.  School is in full swing for Lauren.  She has projects due and tests to take and critiques to be received.  I have something going on every day this month.  I’m having to make list in order to get everything done, and I’m not a list person.  We haven’t had a day to just be together in I don’t know how long.  I miss that.  It’s been nice to think back to a evening spent so casually.  Maybe I can try to move some things around so we can have some quality time like that again soon.  I’ll certainly raise a glass to that.