If you have seen the original Star Wars movies, and have even the slightest interest in organic food, you MUST click here to see this movie.
Uncle Buck, this one's for you!
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Monday, June 06, 2005
My throat still hurts
I went to my physician today, because I have a sore throat that has lasted longer than 7 days now, and a cough. She has a small little practice in a tiny little office. When I called first thing this morning, her staff (as always) acted like they were too busy to be bothered by me, but managed to squeeze me in after lunch.
I had to drag along the little ones, of course. Anna was fine, but Colin was convinced the little plug in fountain in the corner of the miniscule waiting room was a drinking fountain. This sadly concerned the 2 office staff far more than it did me or the other people in the waiting room (who were quite amused). What could I do, I had to turn my back on the 2 year old to sign in, etc, and that is of course when he did it. More than once.
They hustled me into an exam room, where I furiously scribbled on the magnadoodle and dispensed raisins to distract Colin from his need to rummage through all the medical supplies in the room. Finally, the doctor came in, asked questions, briefly examined me, took a throat culture, talked a LOT to Anna (she is such a charming conversationalist), then told me the strep test was negative. Then she looked at me blankly. I asked what I should do. She recommended gargling with warm salt water (which I LOATHE) every 15 minutes for 2 hours. Then she looked at me blankly. Oh, did I want samples of a prescription medication that is really just sudafed and guafenisin? Sure...
This was very reminiscent of when I went to see her for conjunctivitis that wouldn't go away, and she said it was just viral, and she could give me antibiotic drops but they wouldn't help, and she wouldn't give me any steroid drops, and then asked me again did I want the antibiotic drops? (Then I left her office and got that erroneous red light ticket. That was a great day).
I'm sure she's a great physician but her bedside manner is just not jiving with me. I mean, I would not take so much of my personal time to go and see her if I thought what I was suffering from was a simple virus that needed to run its course. Today, I'm glad to know the strep test is negative, but at least show some sympathy for my sore throat that is hurting so bad it wakes me up in the middle of the night when I swallow. Her staff and her demeanor is giving me the message that my little problems are bothering them.
I think I will be switching to the lovely doctor who so kindly promptly sewed my face up when the dog bit me. He even called me, at home, at 7 pm five days later to see how I was doing. That's my kind of doctor!
I had to drag along the little ones, of course. Anna was fine, but Colin was convinced the little plug in fountain in the corner of the miniscule waiting room was a drinking fountain. This sadly concerned the 2 office staff far more than it did me or the other people in the waiting room (who were quite amused). What could I do, I had to turn my back on the 2 year old to sign in, etc, and that is of course when he did it. More than once.
They hustled me into an exam room, where I furiously scribbled on the magnadoodle and dispensed raisins to distract Colin from his need to rummage through all the medical supplies in the room. Finally, the doctor came in, asked questions, briefly examined me, took a throat culture, talked a LOT to Anna (she is such a charming conversationalist), then told me the strep test was negative. Then she looked at me blankly. I asked what I should do. She recommended gargling with warm salt water (which I LOATHE) every 15 minutes for 2 hours. Then she looked at me blankly. Oh, did I want samples of a prescription medication that is really just sudafed and guafenisin? Sure...
This was very reminiscent of when I went to see her for conjunctivitis that wouldn't go away, and she said it was just viral, and she could give me antibiotic drops but they wouldn't help, and she wouldn't give me any steroid drops, and then asked me again did I want the antibiotic drops? (Then I left her office and got that erroneous red light ticket. That was a great day).
I'm sure she's a great physician but her bedside manner is just not jiving with me. I mean, I would not take so much of my personal time to go and see her if I thought what I was suffering from was a simple virus that needed to run its course. Today, I'm glad to know the strep test is negative, but at least show some sympathy for my sore throat that is hurting so bad it wakes me up in the middle of the night when I swallow. Her staff and her demeanor is giving me the message that my little problems are bothering them.
I think I will be switching to the lovely doctor who so kindly promptly sewed my face up when the dog bit me. He even called me, at home, at 7 pm five days later to see how I was doing. That's my kind of doctor!
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Photos from our Weekend
Anna and Colin, busy with their stamp creations early Saturday morning.
"What doing, Anna?" --Colin
Later, we went to the Austin Farmer's Market, to buy peaches and tomatoes. Being Austin (live music capitol of the world), there's always live music. Well, this week there were also live bellydancers!
This dancer really took a shine to Anna and danced all around her. Look how bashful Colin is! The wind was whipping her hair and her scarf all around, so she drapped her scarf over Anna.
She looked as regal as a princess, sitting watching the dancers and eating her sunflower seeds.
Afterwards, Colin was tearing around the park, but Anthony managed to get this action shot.
There was a motorcycle rally in Austin this weekend. 50,000 bikes (mostly Harleys) in our weird city. Couldn't resist this shot of a biker babe in her coordinated orange and black outfit! (I don't think she had any underwear to show, Daddy.)
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
My husband, My barista
The coffee in Italy was really, really awesome. I loved how you could walk into any locally owned bar, and get a wonderful cup of cappucino or espresso or latte -- it was always perfectly smooth, perfectly hot, perfectly SCRUMPTIOUS -- and you didn't have to go to some overpriced chain to get it. The coffee in France and Spain was good, but it was not divine like it was in Italia.
Also, staying in a native Italian's home also showed us how coffee is simple and delicious there, too -- no Italian would stand for bad coffee, but with their low per capita income, neither can they all afford the big impressive machines they have in all the bars.
Every Italian home has a small, 2 cylinder coffee maker, that makes perfect "short coffee" (espresso) on your stovetop. There is no Mr Coffee drip machine. In the mornings, they simply heat a pan of milk along side the espresso to dilute the strong yet smooth brew, and later in the day they drink it straight, with a little zucchero. Anthony knew he had to have one of these when we returned. It is a little boiler, after all!
Anyone who knows my husband knows he gets very passionate about certain subjects - alternative energy, wine, and coffee for sure. Upon returning home, Anthony spent countless hours researching the best espresso makers. He also found an ingenious, cheap device for making the foamy milk. He researched coffee beans - why Italian blends are so smooth, what are good brands, how to load the filter but not pack it... It bordered on obsession. Here are the results:
On the left you see the milk foamer, an aluminum vessel that heats the milk on the stove, then with a butterchurning paddle, whips it up into shaving cream foam. In the center is the classic espresso maker, and on the right, a small assortment of Italian grinds Anthony bought to try.
Last night he made me a large cappucino. It was sublime. It was warm, smooth, foamy. After a couple of sips, I asked if it was caffeinated, and of course it was, but he assured me I didn't have to drink it all, he just wanted me to try it. As if I could resist such a perfect beverage! The milk was all thick and creamy and warm, not thin or diluted like sometimes happens in the steam foaming process. Changing the texture of the milk makes it so much better. And the coffee was dark but smooth, no bitter aftertaste, and tempting as the silver tongued devil. I drank it ALL, and stayed up until midnight as punishment.
So the next time you come to my house, let us whip you up a dreamy sip of Italy. Then you, too, can benefit from hours of meticulous research.
Also, staying in a native Italian's home also showed us how coffee is simple and delicious there, too -- no Italian would stand for bad coffee, but with their low per capita income, neither can they all afford the big impressive machines they have in all the bars.
Every Italian home has a small, 2 cylinder coffee maker, that makes perfect "short coffee" (espresso) on your stovetop. There is no Mr Coffee drip machine. In the mornings, they simply heat a pan of milk along side the espresso to dilute the strong yet smooth brew, and later in the day they drink it straight, with a little zucchero. Anthony knew he had to have one of these when we returned. It is a little boiler, after all!
Anyone who knows my husband knows he gets very passionate about certain subjects - alternative energy, wine, and coffee for sure. Upon returning home, Anthony spent countless hours researching the best espresso makers. He also found an ingenious, cheap device for making the foamy milk. He researched coffee beans - why Italian blends are so smooth, what are good brands, how to load the filter but not pack it... It bordered on obsession. Here are the results:
On the left you see the milk foamer, an aluminum vessel that heats the milk on the stove, then with a butterchurning paddle, whips it up into shaving cream foam. In the center is the classic espresso maker, and on the right, a small assortment of Italian grinds Anthony bought to try.
Last night he made me a large cappucino. It was sublime. It was warm, smooth, foamy. After a couple of sips, I asked if it was caffeinated, and of course it was, but he assured me I didn't have to drink it all, he just wanted me to try it. As if I could resist such a perfect beverage! The milk was all thick and creamy and warm, not thin or diluted like sometimes happens in the steam foaming process. Changing the texture of the milk makes it so much better. And the coffee was dark but smooth, no bitter aftertaste, and tempting as the silver tongued devil. I drank it ALL, and stayed up until midnight as punishment.
So the next time you come to my house, let us whip you up a dreamy sip of Italy. Then you, too, can benefit from hours of meticulous research.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Dolor
I've had 2 cases in the past 2 weeks that have really taken it out of me. Most of the time veterinary medicine is a great, rewarding job. Sometimes it is devastating.
Last week I managed the case of a young standard poodle. He had been purchased by a family with a 10 year old girl. They had done their research, selecting a breed that was appropriate for their family, then found a breeder, and waited for their perfect puppy. 3 days after they brought him home, he became violently ill with parvovirus and campylobacter (a severe intestinal bacteria, causing food poisoning-type symptoms in humans as well as dogs). The dog was previously treated at another hospital, had been sent home, then had just begun vomiting again when I got him. Unfortunately, under my care he rapidly deteriorated. We tried everything, IV fluids, powerful antiemetics, even a plasma transfusion from one of my nurse's dog who recently survived parvo. But, the double whammy of 2 severe infections took their toll. After 3 days he was moribund, laying in his cage unresponsive, vomit and diarrhea coming from both ends. At my recommendation, we euthanized him. I felt so bad that this puppy's short life ended so horribly - being removed from his family, then spending a week hospitalized, poked by needles, vomiting and pooping his guts out. We pulled out all the stops, and I don't think we could've given him better medical care. He died anyway.
This week I got a case of an old Golden Retriever with Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia (body's own immune system attacking its red blood cells). This dog had been put on an appropriate immunosuppresive drug that had an averse side effect on her - liver failure. And, she was getting anemic again. I called a human chemotherapy pharmacy and gave her an infusion of a powerful immunosuppressive drug, started aggressive hospitalization care, and got an ultrasound done on her -- but 2 days later, she was weaker, getting more anemic, and developed a GI bleed. Her owner was committed to spend whatever was necessary, but didn't want her sweet dog to continue to suffer. With the owner present, I euthanized her.
It is such a strange thing, after doing so much medically, to give an injection that actually kills my patient and undoes all of my previous hard work. Although both patients' treatments were clearly justified by their initial presentation, I can't help but feel guilty for "spending" so much of the clients' money. In the end, though, I feel my job is always to advocate for what is best for the patient, and alleviate suffering. Sometime that means aggressive treatment. Sometimes it means euthanasia.
Sometimes it really sucks.
Last week I managed the case of a young standard poodle. He had been purchased by a family with a 10 year old girl. They had done their research, selecting a breed that was appropriate for their family, then found a breeder, and waited for their perfect puppy. 3 days after they brought him home, he became violently ill with parvovirus and campylobacter (a severe intestinal bacteria, causing food poisoning-type symptoms in humans as well as dogs). The dog was previously treated at another hospital, had been sent home, then had just begun vomiting again when I got him. Unfortunately, under my care he rapidly deteriorated. We tried everything, IV fluids, powerful antiemetics, even a plasma transfusion from one of my nurse's dog who recently survived parvo. But, the double whammy of 2 severe infections took their toll. After 3 days he was moribund, laying in his cage unresponsive, vomit and diarrhea coming from both ends. At my recommendation, we euthanized him. I felt so bad that this puppy's short life ended so horribly - being removed from his family, then spending a week hospitalized, poked by needles, vomiting and pooping his guts out. We pulled out all the stops, and I don't think we could've given him better medical care. He died anyway.
This week I got a case of an old Golden Retriever with Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia (body's own immune system attacking its red blood cells). This dog had been put on an appropriate immunosuppresive drug that had an averse side effect on her - liver failure. And, she was getting anemic again. I called a human chemotherapy pharmacy and gave her an infusion of a powerful immunosuppressive drug, started aggressive hospitalization care, and got an ultrasound done on her -- but 2 days later, she was weaker, getting more anemic, and developed a GI bleed. Her owner was committed to spend whatever was necessary, but didn't want her sweet dog to continue to suffer. With the owner present, I euthanized her.
It is such a strange thing, after doing so much medically, to give an injection that actually kills my patient and undoes all of my previous hard work. Although both patients' treatments were clearly justified by their initial presentation, I can't help but feel guilty for "spending" so much of the clients' money. In the end, though, I feel my job is always to advocate for what is best for the patient, and alleviate suffering. Sometime that means aggressive treatment. Sometimes it means euthanasia.
Sometimes it really sucks.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Adorable things Colin said today
While we two are sitting at the table, eating breakfast, he suddenly asks, "What happened?" Clearly nothing has happened, other than the crunching of cereal; I know he is just practicing this phrase, trying it out conversationally. Still I'm not sure how to reply.
Then, "Look, a tongue!" he exclaims, then points in his mouth. What a great discovery! In each of our own mouths is a functional tongue! I am impressed that he knows this without a mirror.
"Stinky. Bum." I also appreciate this heads up before we head out the door to the doctor's office. The dr. later assures me this is a good sign for later potty training.
"A big, big bus! A BIG!" Colin points out many of the things he sees from the backseat, but he gets really enthusiatic about the buses.
"Hi Fi. Hi Fi, Mommy." He is grabbing my hand, keeping me from doing whatever task is occupying my attention. What are you saying, son? Hi Fi? Oh, its high five, he wants a celebratory slap on the hand. You bet, little guy; one on each hand for good measure.
Then, "Look, a tongue!" he exclaims, then points in his mouth. What a great discovery! In each of our own mouths is a functional tongue! I am impressed that he knows this without a mirror.
"Stinky. Bum." I also appreciate this heads up before we head out the door to the doctor's office. The dr. later assures me this is a good sign for later potty training.
"A big, big bus! A BIG!" Colin points out many of the things he sees from the backseat, but he gets really enthusiatic about the buses.
"Hi Fi. Hi Fi, Mommy." He is grabbing my hand, keeping me from doing whatever task is occupying my attention. What are you saying, son? Hi Fi? Oh, its high five, he wants a celebratory slap on the hand. You bet, little guy; one on each hand for good measure.
Monday, May 23, 2005
I fought the law.... and I won!
I got a ticket for running a red light back in December that I felt I didn't deserve. For one thing, the light was yellow when I entered and exited the intersection. For another thing, I wasn't even the last person to go through the intersection. I was pulled over by a motorcycle cop down the road, who was radioed by his buddy at the intersection. The officer told me three times that if I didn't feel I was guilty, I could fight the offense in court. So I did.
It's really not like me to do something like this. I like to watch lawyer shows like Law and Order, but mostly because when I watch them I think, "There's a job I could never do." Ditto for cop shows. I know the majority of people feel that way about my job, for various reasons. Anyway, it was way more expensive to pay a lawyer to fight the ticket than to just pay the ticket nolo contendere. But that wasn't the point. They don't appoint lawyers for these minor offenses. A lay person should be able to manuever themselves through the municipal court legal system, so I decided to go for it.
There is a wealth of free legal advise on line. I did thorough research. I figured I could argue I was not guilty (because it is not red light running unless you "deliberately enter and proceed through the intersection after the light is red") and there was serious reasonable doubt that I was the car they intended to ticket (since I was not the last car through the intersection). I wrote out my opening arguments, cross examination of the officers, my testimony, and closing arguments. I had photos of the intersection.
They don't make it easy. I went to court for a pre-trial hearing and then for discovery before my court date. At discovery, both ticketing officers showed up. It is generally known that if your ticketing officer doesn't show to your trial, they dismiss the charges. So I pretty much figured I was in for a fight. But, it was obvious neither officer remembered me, or made any notes about me (a big mistake on their part - no proof of my guilt), so I felt cautiously confident in my case.
So today, 5 1/2 months after the ticket, I had my day in court. There was a group of about 12 of us. The bailiff stated 2 names that were automatically being dismissed. The rest of us had to acknowledge our presence to the judge, and decide (after a lengthy explanation) whether we wanted a court reporter (needed only for appeal). The bailiff went downstairs to get our officers.
By this time, I was ready for my fight. As with each previous appearance, my heart was pumping, but I was prepared. The bailiff came in and handed the judge a stack of legal files. He called me forward, and my case was dismissed! Woo hoo!
I was only disappointed a tiny bit that I didn't have my say. Mostly I was relieved! It was like getting $200 back in my pocket! I won, without a fight! I wanted to celebrate with champagne, but instead, I went by Starbucks and got myself and Lisa (who really bailed me out again, watching Colin) some Cafe Lattes. Mmmm, the sweet taste of victory!
It's really not like me to do something like this. I like to watch lawyer shows like Law and Order, but mostly because when I watch them I think, "There's a job I could never do." Ditto for cop shows. I know the majority of people feel that way about my job, for various reasons. Anyway, it was way more expensive to pay a lawyer to fight the ticket than to just pay the ticket nolo contendere. But that wasn't the point. They don't appoint lawyers for these minor offenses. A lay person should be able to manuever themselves through the municipal court legal system, so I decided to go for it.
There is a wealth of free legal advise on line. I did thorough research. I figured I could argue I was not guilty (because it is not red light running unless you "deliberately enter and proceed through the intersection after the light is red") and there was serious reasonable doubt that I was the car they intended to ticket (since I was not the last car through the intersection). I wrote out my opening arguments, cross examination of the officers, my testimony, and closing arguments. I had photos of the intersection.
They don't make it easy. I went to court for a pre-trial hearing and then for discovery before my court date. At discovery, both ticketing officers showed up. It is generally known that if your ticketing officer doesn't show to your trial, they dismiss the charges. So I pretty much figured I was in for a fight. But, it was obvious neither officer remembered me, or made any notes about me (a big mistake on their part - no proof of my guilt), so I felt cautiously confident in my case.
So today, 5 1/2 months after the ticket, I had my day in court. There was a group of about 12 of us. The bailiff stated 2 names that were automatically being dismissed. The rest of us had to acknowledge our presence to the judge, and decide (after a lengthy explanation) whether we wanted a court reporter (needed only for appeal). The bailiff went downstairs to get our officers.
By this time, I was ready for my fight. As with each previous appearance, my heart was pumping, but I was prepared. The bailiff came in and handed the judge a stack of legal files. He called me forward, and my case was dismissed! Woo hoo!
I was only disappointed a tiny bit that I didn't have my say. Mostly I was relieved! It was like getting $200 back in my pocket! I won, without a fight! I wanted to celebrate with champagne, but instead, I went by Starbucks and got myself and Lisa (who really bailed me out again, watching Colin) some Cafe Lattes. Mmmm, the sweet taste of victory!
Birthday Party for Colin
Colin had a great day yesterday, celebrating his birthday. We had just 2 of his friends over, and Oma and his cousin Andrew. He had lots of presents and a really cool basketball cake, shown below. He got really excited when we sang to him, and started trying to blow the candles out, like a fish, before the song was over.
The cake was awesome! Colin says, "Bah-geh-boll...... cake."
The cake was awesome! Colin says, "Bah-geh-boll...... cake."
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Woman's face miraculously heals in 6 days!
My face looks practically normal now (yea!) except for a slight bluish bruise under my left eye, easily covered with makeup. The ants are gone (stitches) and my lip looks normal, but still feels a little thick. My boss wondered if I had amazing Vulcan healing properties....
Colin turned 2 (2!) on Tuesday without much fuss. It was kind of a bummer of a day for a birthday, since I left before he woke up, and Anthony left for Dallas after dropping him off at preschool. My friend Regina picked him up, then I fetched him after I got off. When we got home, Stephanie and the twins were waiting for us. I made a hasty dinner of tacos and he had a whole wheat cookie for dessert. Fortunately, he didn't notice the lame celebration. We plan to do it up right this weekend, when his dad can make him a basketball cake and we can all watch him open presents together.
It almost didn't seem like his birthday anyway to me, since he was born at 10:45 pm. He went to bed before his actual birthday time. The following day I was able to concentrate much more on him, and celebrate better - mentally, at least. We had a great morning with Steph and the twins, just playing in the backyard, feeding the chickens grass. Then we had lunch at Hula Hut on the water (Rook! Water! Ducks!) and went to the flagship Whole Foods (you gotta see it, Uncle Buck!). Shared another nice dinner at home with Steph and the kiddos.
Colin did have a "terrible twos" moment on Monday. Anna had her check-up, and he screamed inconsolately when she left for her hearing and vision test. Anna didn't have to get a shot, but she didn't forget about the ice cream I promised her afterwards. There is a great gelateria near the doctor's office, so we went there. Of course at 10:30 am they are just putting the gelato out, and there were 4 professionals in there, enjoying cappucino and using the WiFi.
Colin's screaming mood had not ceased, and he roamed around the place, shouting, manhandling the vintage Vespa with the large "Do Not Touch" sign, trying to pull down the napkins and spoons, and generally doing everything he could to provoke me. If I held him, he screamed, and if I didn't, he was a ruckus. Finally we ordered our gelato, and I put him into a highchair in front of his frozen strawberry treat. He wouldn't eat the gelato. "No!" he said, pushing it away with the back of his hand, then howled. The WiFi-ers shot me dirty looks. What could I do? Anna and I hurriedly ate our gelato, and his. The clerk said, "Don't worry, in the afternoon this place is crawling with kids." Yes, but not at 10:30.
Fortunately, that is a great exception to Colin's usual sweet, sunny disposition. The best thing he does is repeat the words at the end of every phrase when you sing him the "Night Night Song". Also known as "Goodnight My Angel" by Billy Joel. We sing it to both the kids before they go to sleep. I didn't know he did this until Anthony went out of town. It chokes me up every time.
By the way, I am enjoying typing this on my lovely flat screen monitor, right in front of me! Attatched to the top are some trip pictures, and on the side is an attatched vase with zinnias in it. Did I decorate my monitor this way? No, it was Anthony. I may not have seen him this week, but he lets me know he still loves me!
Colin turned 2 (2!) on Tuesday without much fuss. It was kind of a bummer of a day for a birthday, since I left before he woke up, and Anthony left for Dallas after dropping him off at preschool. My friend Regina picked him up, then I fetched him after I got off. When we got home, Stephanie and the twins were waiting for us. I made a hasty dinner of tacos and he had a whole wheat cookie for dessert. Fortunately, he didn't notice the lame celebration. We plan to do it up right this weekend, when his dad can make him a basketball cake and we can all watch him open presents together.
It almost didn't seem like his birthday anyway to me, since he was born at 10:45 pm. He went to bed before his actual birthday time. The following day I was able to concentrate much more on him, and celebrate better - mentally, at least. We had a great morning with Steph and the twins, just playing in the backyard, feeding the chickens grass. Then we had lunch at Hula Hut on the water (Rook! Water! Ducks!) and went to the flagship Whole Foods (you gotta see it, Uncle Buck!). Shared another nice dinner at home with Steph and the kiddos.
Colin did have a "terrible twos" moment on Monday. Anna had her check-up, and he screamed inconsolately when she left for her hearing and vision test. Anna didn't have to get a shot, but she didn't forget about the ice cream I promised her afterwards. There is a great gelateria near the doctor's office, so we went there. Of course at 10:30 am they are just putting the gelato out, and there were 4 professionals in there, enjoying cappucino and using the WiFi.
Colin's screaming mood had not ceased, and he roamed around the place, shouting, manhandling the vintage Vespa with the large "Do Not Touch" sign, trying to pull down the napkins and spoons, and generally doing everything he could to provoke me. If I held him, he screamed, and if I didn't, he was a ruckus. Finally we ordered our gelato, and I put him into a highchair in front of his frozen strawberry treat. He wouldn't eat the gelato. "No!" he said, pushing it away with the back of his hand, then howled. The WiFi-ers shot me dirty looks. What could I do? Anna and I hurriedly ate our gelato, and his. The clerk said, "Don't worry, in the afternoon this place is crawling with kids." Yes, but not at 10:30.
Fortunately, that is a great exception to Colin's usual sweet, sunny disposition. The best thing he does is repeat the words at the end of every phrase when you sing him the "Night Night Song". Also known as "Goodnight My Angel" by Billy Joel. We sing it to both the kids before they go to sleep. I didn't know he did this until Anthony went out of town. It chokes me up every time.
By the way, I am enjoying typing this on my lovely flat screen monitor, right in front of me! Attatched to the top are some trip pictures, and on the side is an attatched vase with zinnias in it. Did I decorate my monitor this way? No, it was Anthony. I may not have seen him this week, but he lets me know he still loves me!
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