so let's analyze this. what happened? why does noone from the mindling family post on the blog anymore? too busy? "over it" ?? don't have anything exciting to say? nothing humorous or scandalous happening? well i beg to differ. because i KNOW YOU. i know who you live next to, too. so... my advice?? get to it!!!!
thank you in advance for your kind attention in this matter.
Last night it was pumpkin muffins. This morning it is pumpkin pancakes, cobbled together from a couple different recipes and my own second guessing.
1 cup white whole wheat flour*
1 cup flaxseed & multigrain flour* (a wonderful new thing from the bulk bins at Whole Foods)
2 Tbsp ground flaxseed
3 Tbsp light brown sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg (or less; I love it so I use lots)
1/4 tsp ginger powder
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup pumpkin puree (not pie mix)
2 cups buttermilk**
We had to let Tanner go early last week. It had become clear that he wasn't going to get better, he'd been going downhill for a couple of weeks, and had stopped eating. As Hilda and I looked at photos of Tanner over the years, we realized that he had been ill for at least a couple of years with Cushing's Disease. His weight gain, appearance, and loss of energy are all symptoms of the early part of the disease, which are easy to misinterpret, as we did, as aging signs. It wasn't until about April of this year that we knew something was really wrong, and the vet visits began. One of the first things we heard from the vet was that it could be Cushings, and that they don't usually recommend treatment because of the side effects. Not wanting to subject Tanner to that, we crossed our fingers and began a suggested treatment for another possible issue, an immune system disorder, which was treated with steroids. And for a while he really looked like he was improving, but it was not to be.
This, on the left, is taking up Ronan’s every spare second.
Before they knew her name by heart they called her “the pink girl.” They still do sometimes because it is so fitting. The sound of her plastic training wheels raking loudly down the street - - hhhhhhhhhhhckkkkkkkk - - is her siren song. It calls Ronan to the front of the house each afternoon, with Laird tagging along behind.