can't stop now . . .

if i don't stop playing, i am going to miss lunch with the girls.  that and some really yummy thai food.

and another . . .

Oia, a small village on Santorini, Greece, was on my bucket list.  Check!

to suck or not to suck . . .

it was a sucky morning and all it took was a well meaning hug from someone i had not seen since the 9TS departed the cave.  tears still sneak up when least expected.

but, i found a new tutorial which made me go running to see how fast i could fire up my CS4 and then the day got unsucky:

isn't this a cool technique???  the tut can be found here.

numero cinco . . .

I'm milking these beach shots for all they are worth. 

Doing a tap dance.  Kidlet is headed home for a few days.

evolution . . . .

when i think about what i cook these days . . . what my palate craves . . . i realize how much it has changed in the last 20 years.

when i married the 9TS, i married a second generation Italian.  a man who loved his pasta.  a man who grew up with his mother's scratch cooking.  while Lou was born in the US, Joe was born in Italy.  between the two, meals were all about pasta, family and heritage.  Lou's pasta was homemade.  her gravy full of rich spices, slowly cooked.  bar none, she created some of the best Italian cuisine i have ever tasted.  and she shared.

i, on the other hand, grew up on Betty Crocker's balanced meals of meat, starch and vegetable.  good but uninspired.  i didn't know any better.  hey, i am not knocking it.

for the next 20 years, i ate mostly raw veggies and popcorn.  let's just say i was not financially secure and they were easy staples.  no wonder i wore a size 4. 

when i finally learned to cook, it was through the help of a Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook and the necessity of feeding a ne'er do well husband.  i figured if it could teach me how to boil water, it might just make me the queen of meat and potatoes . . . that which he who must be obeyed, craved.  and in truth, i can cook a mean prime rib with oven browned potatoes.

but back to pasta.  the 9TS was really my mentor.   he was in charge of all things Italian.  he made gravy from scratch just like his mom and his older brother.  slowly i learned the basics but i never did make my own pasta.  mix flour and water and my fingers are glued together tighter than a tick on a dog's neck.  it was his domain.

after his triple by-pass in 2000, we reinvented eating/cooking in the cave.  we cut out fat and so, much of the flavor disappeared.  

as he became less able to cook, i insisted we shelve our 10 year hiatus into the world of fat free and go for the gusto to beef him up.  i would watch and type whenever he cooked.  i have a library of most of his favorites although i must admit, i looked the other way while he prepared airships . . . they not being my most favorite.  i memorized his own version of 'bam':  garlic salt, garlic powder, basil, oregano, Italian seasonings.  i left more fat on pork, better tasting cuts of beef marbled with fat.  i stuffed him full of chocolate covered donuts.  i fed him anything he could tolerate.

and now, i have taken yet another fork in the road.  fresh spices as opposed to bottled.  the difference is night and day.  i eat very little meat.  none at all actually unless Kidlet is home.  on a college budget, she hits the door craving that which she cannot afford.  Meat, momma, feed me meat!

and so with today's lunch using fresh Italian parsley and fresh basil, i realize how sweet and fragrant my palate has become and as i tucked into some left over homemade pasta fagioli for dinner, i counted once again how lucky i was to have known the sloth for the seventeen years he was mine, for with him came an open window to new food and new flavors and a new life, rich in love of food, family and friendship.  amen.

it's drizzling . . .

so i am making a mediterranean salad for lunch:  chopped tomato, fennel, red pepper, greek olives, feta cheese, chick peas, fresh basil and parsley drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice.  it is marinating while i am drooling.

fast forward an hour and here we go:

i gotta tell you, this is delicious! 

meantime, since it is still raining, the pool is getting full.  thankfully, it is at the point where the drain is working well:

a good day to stay inside and nosh, nap and navigate nothingness!

it's raining . . .

it's pouring, the old man is snoring.  and while the old sot sleeps comfortably in his nice dry feather bed, we are under a tornado warning.  not nice old man.  not nice.

it's been raining all day . . .  this after a couple of weeks of rain.  one more inch and the pool is going to overflow.  hopefully, it will do what it usually does and overflow into the woods behind us.  it would not be my first choice of how to wash the kitchen floor.

the good news is, i will finally get to wear my yellow rain boots tomorrow when i go grocery shopping.  yay!

just a note . . .

i marinated shrimp in olive oil, red wine vinegar, crushed garlic, oregano and fresh parsley.  sauteed it gently and slurp it was gone.

then i pulled out the steamed corn on the cob and buttered it along with the left over marinade that was already on my plate.  i will never, ever, eat corn on the cob without the marinade again.  ever.

round and round . . .

sunday, kidlet, jen, donovan and i went out to play.  now donovan is only four and I am almost sixty years his senior so he played harder than i did.  and while he swung, slid, jumped and generally tuckered himself out,  i played mostly with my camera.  and where there are pictures, there are layouts:

is he not the most adorable long legged little critter?  and yes, that is kidlet having just as much fun.  that's one of things i love about her.

...................................................................................................................................................................

i have a new favorite sammie.  roast chicken, fresh spinach, fresh buffalo mozzarella, pesto mayo on rye toast.  Slurp.

if it could go wrong, it did . . .

I was trying to make a cute tote for my friend Robin's birthday.  No matter what step I was on, I messed up.  Kidlet just kept shaking her head and urging me to try again.  I am stubborn.  I should have used a pattern.

Fabric:  Yep, I cut it wrong, but didn't discover it until I went to make the straps.

The Bird:  It was originally supposed to be stitched in just one color, but then how would anyone know what type of bird it was?  So I added dry paint.  Not so good.  So I dampened the paint.  Better, but Kidlet was cringing.

Sewing:  By the time I had added the gussets, it became quite obvious that I really had misjudged the placement of the bird because now her tail was off the front.

Straps:  As mentioned before, I cut the body before the straps and was left with nothing usable.  Where was my brain?  in hiatus in the pool, no doubt.  So I went through my ribbon stash until I found something usable.  Kidlet was now hiding under the bed and as far from me as possible.

Brads:  I didn't realize until the last minute that the head of one of the brads had slipped sideways and needed to be re-glued.

Photos:  And apparently, I couldn't even take a non-fuzzy shot.  GAH!

What the heck.  Robin knows I am a tad eccentric.

And here it is:

 It's a robin for a Robin.  Get it?!?!    I know, I know.  Gah.

and then . . .

saturday afternoon, Nancy delivered THE most delicious brownies ever.  Oh, dear Lord above, they were the BEST.  And if you have ever wondered if coffee enhances the flavor of chocolate icing, fear no more.  The answer is yes.

Saturday night, Kidlet returned for the evening, and when I opened the door, this is what I spied on the front yard:

well, in truth, these are shots taken the next morning after I denuded most of the ground foliage and stacked it here:

but I was still in way over my head and called the tree trimmers.  Five hours later and a huge dump truck full of branches and limbs, the yard is all cleaned up and wonderful.

Oh, and by the way, the tree guy said it was a tiny twister that hit the tree.  Yikes.

and now to change topics entirely, I tried the fried eggplant, fresh mozzarella, tomato and basil goodness from Proud Italian Cook.  I added a drizzle of balsamic reduction and the results were beyond wonderful:

And yes, I am rolling around like a hound dog who has eaten a sack of potatoes.

Life is bountiful.

Happy Father's Day to you and yours . . .

because my crew no longer has a dad.

because it needs to be said and re-said and re-said until someone hears.  really, really hears.

Melanoma is a killer.  And sneaky.  It can show up anywhere.  In the case of my husband, it appeared in 2005, on the side of the middle toe of his left foot.  Just a small round pink spot.  Didn't look like anything out of the ordinary, just that it wasn't there before.

His doctor said it was nothing.  'Wait a month', and if it is still there we will send you to a dermatologist.  A month later, the dermatologist said 'wait a month', if it is still there, we will biopsy it.  A month later we knew he had melanoma.  They did Mohs surgery hoping to get clear margins.  They did. 

Fast forward to late 2007.  We decided to spend Christmas in Boston.  We walked and walked and walked.  Frank developed a blister under that same toe.  It went away as soon as we got home and boots were no longer required.  The blister came back when he wore the same boots in February, March and July.  Each time it healed as the boots were no longer needed.  But bells were ringing in my head.

We were sent to Moffitt and this time it was ulcerated melanoma.  Did they not catch it all the first time?  Did it spread to the new location or was it just a fluke that it was in the same toe.  No one knows.  Remember, melanoma is sneaky.  Before they removed his toe, they did a sentinel biopsy of the lymph nodes in his left groin to see if the melanoma had spread.  All clear.  They removed his toe and home we went.  He was now on a regimen of PET scans every three months.  Clear.  Clear. and Clear.  Then one day, he felt a lump near the biopsy site.  Back to Moffitt.  There were actually two tumors and they were caught in the scar tissue of the biopsy.

How did he have more cancer if they did a sentinel biopsy to make sure it hadn't traveled to his lymph nodes?  The best answer was that the cancer was already in transit but not yet there at the time of the surgery.  This time, they removed both tumors, and removed all of the lymph nodes, followed by two and a half months of radiation.  His next PET was clear.  We loved clear.

In March of 2010, the news was not good.  The PET scan lit up in his right lung. On April first, they removed the bottom lobe of his right lung.  Because it had left the initial site, it was now considered stage IV, metastatic melanoma:  life expectancy 9 to 18 months.  He was accepted into a trial but was scrubbed when two more tumors appear.  One on his left thigh, one on his right chest wall.  Both were topical and removed.  Clear.

Again, the PET lit up.  The cancer had seeded in two of the five holes used for the removal of the lung.  It was now growing between the ribs, inoperable.  They scheduled him for anti PD1.  He flunked his stress test.  He was scrubbed for anti PD1.

The next step was IPI.  Having been approved by the FDA in March of 2011, he started that June.  Three of the four infusions later, his body revolted.  The fourth infusion was delayed but the reaction had him in and out of the hospital.  Now we had to wait and see.  The October C-Scan was hopeful.  The December was a disaster.  Life expectancy: two to twelve months.  January was no better.  By his last visit in February, life expectancy was two weeks to a month.  He made it two days.

Why am I rehashing this?  For two reasons.  First, to make sure if you read this, you get checked.  I don't want anyone else losing a father . . . or a mother . . . a sloth.

Secondly, because my new friend Les, who is now 32 months into stage IV metastatic melanoma is happily 18 months with no evidence of disease.  She is a soldier and she is winning.

BUT.  and I quote from her blog:

"New trials for Melanoma NED patients....

...are almost non-existent!  While it is obvious that Stage IV melanoma patients with non-resectable disease are in immediate need of treatment....it is equally clear to me that if you don't treat the Stage IV NED melanoma patients, they will soon join the crowd!  When I began the trial I am in...there was absolutely nothing else available to me.  And once again...as my trial begins to head down its final stretch, there is very little out there for folks in my shoes.  Much of this deficit comes from the fact that when you treat me....what have you learned?  My results are hard to calculate....and hard for drug companies to sell.  I did not have measurable disease at the start, so no one can tout a grand success story of decreased or eradicated tumors that show up on scans one minute and recede in the next.  Additionally, there is no "standard of care" treatment option for NED patients other than interferon and you all know what I (as well as most of the entire melanoma research community) think of that by now.  SO.....what to do???  Unfortunately...most of the drug companies...who are (sadly) the main drivers of such research...say...not much."

This is  unacceptable.  Intolerable.  It makes me crazy. 

Get checked.  Stay out of the sun.  In my husbands case, he most likely inherited the genetic mutation.  His father also had melanoma.  Caught early, it is treatable.  My father-in-law won his battle.  If you're in the fray, fight hard.  Look at Les!  She is a star!

End of rant.  Sigh.

so you knew . . .

if there was kayaking, there would be photos and then a layout . . . or two:

Credits:  Lynn Grieveson: paper, photo mask.  Katie Pertiet: palms, pebble, word art, birds, stitches, staple.  Vinnie Pierce: ribbon, button.  Dawn Inskip: date.  Julia Makontinsky: fish.  Flergs: jewels.

This layout was inspired by my friend Anke.  She has such a fabulous eye.

Peace out.

and speaking of obsessions . . .

let me introduce you to my buddy, Rocky Raccoon.  he was holding down the fort at guard shack where we went kayaking.  i fell deeply in love.  in someways, he is cooler than the manatee albeit a tad flea bitten:

thanks, Leonore . . .

for sharing this so very apt bit of goodness:

honestly, my first thought was Kidlet.  she is mine after all.  but then I thought, really, REALLY?  own up.  be honest.  this is MY brain.

and another beach layout . . .

Credits: Katie Pertiet: paper, gulls, type, button, date tags. Dawn Inskip: stitching. Brushes:  Nancy Rowe Janitz, French Kiss. Frame: Lynne Marie.  Kitty Designs:  push pin.  Anna Aspnes:  Graphics.

good, good day . . .

Kidlet and I ventured out of the cave today . . . riding up the coast to visit Robin and do a little kayaking.  Yep, we did.  I haven't processed all of the shots yet . . .  I heard that collected sigh of relief . . . but here is a little something to hold you over until I do:

momma and her calf.  so cool.

and then the kayakers:

resting up.  Major fun.  Thanks, Robin.

tonight . . .

we are celebrating both Kidlet's and Craig's birthdays with pizza, chocolate cake, ice cream and watermelon.  the watermelon is for those behaving themselves which of course will not be me.  (joanie, help!  is it me or i?)

pictures to follow.  possibly. 

all together now . . .

good luck, Les!

questions . . .

i'm not sure why i took the road less taken.  because my mother died when i was 13?  because i had a very damaging relationship with her?  because i spent four years in an all girls boarding school?  because i picked a small, conservative, college tucked in the rolling northern hills?  because i knew in my heart there was more?  because i wanted to experience it?  because the idea of a white picket fence scared the hell out of me?  because i was on my way to being me?

who knows.  would i change it?  i might be tempted to omit certain people but would i back up and ask for a redo?  no way. 

did i know if i held on i would find a spectacular love? who knows what price we pay.  what route we take.  what makes us tick. 

in the end, i had it all. 

and then . . .

not much going on in the cave lately.  summer is just rolling along.  mother nature has been providing wondrous afternoon thunderstorms.  great for the foliage.  better for creativity and napping. 

working on a an overdue present for my friend Robin.  fingers crossed it works out. 

taking a 'smash' book course.  half journal/half art book.  good class.  free.

and bright floral fabric for a new 'hippy' dress.  will start as soon as i find the ironing board under all the ironing.  sigh.

and of course our weekly trip to La's for this:
grilled chicken, fresh buffalo mozzarella, tomato, basil and spinach with basil mayo and a drizzle of balsamic reduction, on ciabatta. oh, you know i am drooling.

it's officially berry season.  plump red raspble-berries, rich deep blue berries, ripe red strawberries, not to mention sweet juicy pineapple and gorgeous avocados.  my shopping cart heads right for produce. 

oops, sorry, got side tracked there for a moment.  then there is this project, still in motion.  the larger flies are up, still have to make the smaller one:

sorry about the graininess.  i was too lazy to pull out my Canon. and since mother nature is again showering us with goodness, there was not enough light for my cell phone.  in case you haven't seen these all over pinterest, they are tri-layered and i added jute for the tails and antennae.  they will eventually climb all up the wall.

i feel a wonderful snooze coming on.  see ya later.

kidlet at the beach too . . .

oh beware.  i took over 100 shots.

and then, i cry . . .

here's the deal-io:

my friend, kel, has always called the 9TS 'wilson'.  always.  you'd have to go back to early pictures of the sloth and be a fan of 'home improvement'.  got it.  good.

my friend michelle, had a really bad year last year.  topped off by the discovery of cancer in her colon.  she recovers.  starts a 'relay for life' team called the semi-colons.  snort.  yep, that is michelle.  to raise money for her team, she offers luminaries displayed at the end of the walk.

michelle, kel and i are cyber-space buds.  don't you dare question the validity of such friendships.  they exist.

kel donates to michelle's team.

michelle decides to play it forward for the 9TS.

i cry.

the end.