Strix, I am so sorry to hear things have been so tough for you. But it's great to hear, and see! just how much support you're getting and that you are being proactive about seeking it out. You are an inspiration.

Ginger, I'm very glad to hear you're getting good positive test results. Fast bone-healing~ma.

Also, a little late on the London topic, but I would love to go back for a longer visit. I had two days on a RON (remain overnight) from Rota, Spain to London way back in 1986. With so little time, the group I was with decided on a bus tour past famous monuments and a boat trip up the Thames. And of course, massive pub crawls in the evening; we were sailors, after all. I envy all y'all who actually got into the museums rather than just drive past. I did have to have the obligatory picture taken in front of Buckingham palace, though.

Cross posted with Natter.

Today is the first day of spring. In the Persian calendar is is also New Years - No Rouz. The typical greeting is Edie Shoma Mobarak.

It is a day for wearing new clothes and visiting friends and family. It is also a tradition to set up a Haft Sin (seven s's). This is a table setting that includes...
sabzeh – wheat, barley or lentil sprouts growing in a dish – symbolizing rebirth
samanu – a sweet pudding made from wheat germ – symbolizing affluence
senjed – the dried fruit of the oleaster tree – symbolizing love
sīr – garlic – symbolizing medicine
sīb – apples – symbolizing beauty and health
somaq – sumac berries – symbolizing (the color of) sunrise
serkeh – vinegar – symbolizing age and patience.

Other items are often placed on the table such as coins to represent wealth, a mirror to represent honesty, decorated eggs (fertility), and a bowl of water with a goldfish to represent life within life.

I have always loved No Rouz because it is a huge Iranian holiday that has nothing to do with religon. I wish I could travel to visit each of you or welcome you into my home and serve you amazing Persian food.

Suzi, that sounds delightful (and mighty tasty) -- Edie Shoma Mobarak to you!

This being sick thing is getting old.

I'm sorry, sj. It seems worse this year than in years past.

From Facebook, for those who don't use it. You are just as important to me, and I need to thank you for the last year.

Fair warning: This is LONG.

You all know I usually don't have a problem finding something to say... about anything, but I've spent the last month or so trying to figure out how to adequately express myself in this case. I've finally just decided to put it out there and hope everyone realizes the depth and sincerity of my gratitude and appreciation.

It's been a bit over 13 months since Rob died. It is, without a doubt, the worst thing that's ever happened to me, but it also proved that I am surrounded by an amazing family and a phenomenal set of friends. Oh, there were lots of surprises--people I thought that would have been there come hell or high water were nowhere to be found, and I found out things that were better left undiscovered. On the other hand, people that I only had a passing acquaintance with became vitally important and indispensable parts of my life. I lost so much, but I gained wonderful things in return.

I mourned and coped in the open, on Facebook. I may have overshared, but it has been the best therapy for me. When I post something, I've let it go and it doesn't sit and fester. I have read every comment and every word of encouragement, and I can't believe I know such amazing people.

First and foremost, to my family - Mom, Papa, Lisa, my aunt and uncle, and my amazing cousins: You kept me going when I just couldn't. You held me and let me cry and deal with it in my own way, but you all were ready to slay dragons on my behalf. The love and support I'm receiving to this day is a big reason why I'm getting through this. You had my back, and I will always have yours. I will never be able to repay you.

To Mark and Frank: You did everything that I couldn't. You were just there, handling everything, including me. You're still there when I need you. I am humbled by your generosity, and again, I will never be able to repay you.

To my neighbors: You were the ones I turned to immediately, and you didn't let me down. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking on the burden of that terrible day, and thank you for continuing to help, even when I'm too stubborn to ask.

To my high school and college friends: We don't always stay in touch, but every last one of you that matters was there for me. Your phone calls and cards and emails and texts were perfect, and I am so damned lucky that you still care after all of these years.

To my b-orgers: I don't even have the words. You kept me sane, you let me rant against the unfairness of it all, and you listened to the ugly parts and passed no judgment. You literally wrapped me in a blanket of love and stood guard around me at the funeral. I am eternally grateful.

To my PA friends: Thank you for being there every weekend. You make me laugh, and often you make me shake my head, but your loyalty and support is never in question.

To my friends everywhere else: You're a phenomenal bunch. Thank you for giving me places to escape to, and someone to talk to in just about every time zone.

To Rob's high school, air show, and hockey friends, especially his players: Some of you I met for the first time at the funeral, some of you I hadn't seen in years, and some I still haven't met, but we were lucky to have you in our lives. I'm so glad that you care. And boys? You are his best legacy.

To my gym instructors, trainer, and fitness friends: I started going to the gym to get out of the house. You gave me a reason to keep going back. Now, look where I'm at. I did the work, but you all continue to teach me so much, not just about movement and exercise, but about what I'm actually capable of. Limits are made to be pushed, and now I know I can do that. Thank you. You've changed my life.

To the one who still calls every night, and the one who stays with me the Friday of every major holiday weekend: You are the sisters of my heart. Words aren't good enough. (continued...)

( continues...) Love you both to the moon and back.

To the one who's also a member of this stupid widows' club: We will both get through this and be stronger for it. Thank you for understanding exactly what I mean when I can't even explain it myself sometimes. I hope you find your happiness.

To the one who gave me the courage to reclaim the bedroom, because otherwise it's wasted space: You were a surprise of the best kind. You listen, you call me on my shit, and you make me laugh. You're a good person, and I'm proud to know you. Thank you, for everything.

To the one who let me spend the 6-month anniversary on a ride-along, in the desperate hope that I wouldn't think about it: Words also fail me here. You are the best kind of friend, and I am so grateful that you're looking out for me, always. I'm in your debt. Thank you.

To all of you: Thank you for letting me be a part of your lives. I am not the same person I was a year ago, and you have accepted who I am now. Life is short and we need to make the most of the time we have left. You are all worth it.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Thanks, Maria. The fever is better, but my stomach is awful. I miss having family nearby to bring me Gatorade. And I said it on Facebook already, but you are an amazing person. I feel lucky to know you.

I'd bring you Gatorade if I was close, but in this case the thought doesn't count. You need the actual product.

I'm lucky to know all of you. The board, and especially the Bitches, kept me going even when I thought I couldn't deal anymore. I almost didn't post this here because it felt a bit like spamming, but there are enough of us that don't use Facebook who are no less deserving of thanks.

Oh, Maria.

You know, I am so glad I know you. You're a remarkable human.

TCG just called and he has to attend a meeting tonight that doesn't even start until 7:30. So he's going to get me Gatorade, but I'll be luck to get it before 10.