How's Your Blood Pressure?

I'll start off with a little quilty-stuff, then move on to the topic du jour.

Pieced at Tobermory retreat but not yet quilted:

 Started an embarrassingly long time ago, finally quilted, and heading to the hospice as a guild donation:

TOPIC DU JOUR

Dad died of a heart attack when he was 72.  He was a tough guy.  A contractor, specializing in drywall I think.  I was one of those teenagers who paid zero attention to the people who really had some import in my life, so I don't honestly know.  As a teenager I slept until noon, by which time he was more than half way through his day.  Dad made himself bacon and eggs, every. single. day.  In spite of his hard, physical labour, his diet may or may not have had something to do with his early demise.  I fell heir to his 7" cast iron frying pan, which has so many years of seasoning on it that NOTHING will EVER stick to it.  DH and I have a pretty significant collection of cast iron pans now, and in spite of their weight, they are the BEST things to cook with. 

Next...

Mom developed alzheimers, most likely caused by several small strokes.  She lived to 94, but her last, um, 10 years or so (?), were not good.  And the 10 or 15 years before that were filled with sticky notes on the bathroom mirror reminding her of coming events and appointments, forgetfulness, repetetive questions, and confusion.  I didn't realize what was going on with her for a long time.  She'd ask me over and over again "how much money have I got in the bank?" and I'm ashamed to say that after answering this question 10 or 15 times during my Friday visits, I would lose my shit.  For the last few years she couldn't walk, couldn't talk, couldn't hear, couldn't see, lost her teeth several times, and another stroke had left her unable to safely eat 'real food' - everything had to be pureed.  There was a day when my brother told me that he'd been to visit her.  He'd brought a box of Timbits, and she'd scarfed down every single one.  OMG.  "Bruce!!  She can't eat solid food!!  WTH!!  She'll choke!"  Well, no, that didn't kill her thankfully, since he was telling me this story after the fact. 😳  She passed quietly at the nursing home on a cold March night.

My sister Sharon, who was 10 years older than me, died at 72 of a heart attack.  She'd been suffering with several forms of cancer, along with non-alcohol-related-cirrhosis for several years prior to her death.  Everyone in our family drinks so much that the "non-alcohol" bit surprised me, but she'd also lived in China for several years and may have contracted Hep C?  I know she had a heart attack while she lived there - that was during the SARS epidemic and the Chinese government keeps all news of that sort very quiet.  I don't think she knew about SARS while it was going on.  Now, I'm unsure if the fatal heart attack was an inherited weakness, or incidental to her other health issues.

The firstborn in the family, my brother Ted, also died at 72.  He was felled by cancer.  In the mid-80's he left with his boat and his girlfriend for the islands, and basically disappeared from our lives. His life was a complete mystery to us after that, until I received a call this summer from his wife (who'd been his girlfriend at the time of his departure so long ago).  She was surprised that none of us knew that he was dead.  Um, hello???  He never contacted any of us. Ever.  How he managed to show up for dad's funeral 39 years ago remains a complete mystery to this day.

My 70-year-old brother Bruce, 1 1/2 years older than me, is still kickin' up a storm on Vancouver Island. 💕  We are the only ones left from our family of origin.

Now you've got the lay of the land.

DH does most of the cooking around here, for which I'm very grateful.  We get into some ahem disagreements over nutrition occasionally.  Based on my story above you can see that three out of four deceased family members died at the age of 72.  Three out of four deceased family members had disastrous results related to heart troubles.  I'm already on cholesterol meds, thyroid meds, and heart meds.  And I'm 68.  

If you follow me around the grocery store you'll see my cart filled with apples, bananas, lettuce, avocados, peppers, sweet potatoes, broccoli and cauliflower.  I gave up cream and sugar in my coffee a looong time ago. I mean, I'm no saint - don't get me wrong. I can empty out a bowl of cheezies faster than you can say 'Those aren't good for you, you know, and by the way I like your shoes.'  I'm really lucky in that I like healthy food.  I don't wrinkle up my nose when faced with brussel sprouts. But as a rule, I try pretty consistently to stay away from salt.  Outside of baking I don't use it when I'm cooking.  I rarely add it to food on my plate, unless we're talking about potatoes - in which case all bets are off. 

Last week I was cleaning up after another good meal cooked by DH when I noticed the salt shaker on the cooktop.  

me, pretending to ask an innocent question:  "Honey, why is the salt shaker on the cooktop?"

DH:  "I salted the pasta water."

me, fanning away the steam that was spurting out of my ears:  "YOU PUT SALT IN THE WATER???!!  WHAT??!!?"

DH, wondering when my hormones came back:  "Um, ...yes?  It was only a little?"

me, carrying on:  "Blah blah blah (about my health issues), blah blah blah (about high blood pressure), blah blah blah (about how he's trying to kill me), etc..."

DH trying very hard to be cooperative:  "Um, ok. I won't do it any more?"

Last Friday I bought two lovely cabbages at a farm stall.  Half of one was made into coleslaw.  For the second half I suggested a recipe that I cut out of the newspaper several years ago, but have never tried.  The cooking fell to DH because I ended up having a quilting buddy come by to talk about her book.  When she and I were through and she left for home, I wandered into the kitchen to check on hubby's progress.  The casserole was heading into the oven at this point.

DH:  "Did you see the first ingredient on the recipe?"

me, looking at the recipe:  "Uh, cabbage."

DH:  "Nope."

me, looking at the recipe again:  "Yeah, cabbage!"

DH:  "Nope."

me, getting a little annoyed:  "Yes it is!"

DH, wandering over and pointing at the first word - salt.  Sigh.

Don't ya just hate it when someone does that to you?

CABBAGE AND POTATO GRATIN

This was very good.  DH added some cooked & sliced Italian sausages to the mix.