eleven long days . . .

she is finally home!!!!

fairy tales and other fancy things . . .

visiting hours are very restrictive:  seven to eight nightly and ten to eleven on weekends.  at ten o'clock, i was knocking down their door.  the nurse said she was sleeping.  pushy mom that i am, i went on through.  as suspected, she was hiding rather than snoozing.  it's what she does when she feels lousy. 

they started new meds today.  after so many changes, she is losing faith . . . afraid each new one will fall short yet again.  tears had been flowing.

therapy starts in earnest today.  i'll find out more tonight.

yesterday was bleak with no kidlet in the house.  so i cleaned.  yes, that's right.  i cleaned.  just enough to make a dent.  nothing too drastic.  the vacuum cleaner got so excited it passed out.  do i look like i had recently taken a refresher course in vacuum resuscitation now or ever?   i laid the poor animal down in the foyer  . . . isn't that a great word:  foyer?  come into my parlor said the spider to the fly . . .  ok, so there i was with the prone beast, a butter knife and an instruction pamphlet.  oh, and my glasses . . . the better to see you with my dear.  i cleared away all the hair and yarn that had accumulated on the beater bar and plugged it in.  dead.  i followed the directions and checked for clogs and plugged it in.  dead.  finally, i realized i had suction on the wand if not the head.  i cleaned the stairs and went back into surgery.  i poked and prodded.  tore apart and rebuilt and learned more about a dyson than i need to.  after attempt number 42, i plugged it in and . . .  frankenstein lives!!!!  we have suction!!!  but of course then i actually had to use the poor animal and empty its canister three more times. gag!

i also did laundry, wiped down surfaces, tended to the pool, did my hand wash, and puttered around setting this and that straight.  who is this woman.  surely not i. 

just before leaving to visit kidlet, the heavens opened.  it poured.  the wind blew.  the trees tossed.  i got on the road.  there are three routes from here to there.  one for mama bear, one for papa bear and one for baby bear.  obviously, she who is terrified of interstate driving goes over the river and through the woods using baby bear.  'but it is the dry season', she said as the windshield wipers flew back and forth across the glass and highway patrol announced the road closed due to fire.  i didn't have time to take mama bear, she is too long and rambling so papa bear and i had a chat and i hit the interstate about the same time the weather alert system broke in on miranda lambert and announced i was heading into a tornado watch.  the evening rapidly grew dark and smoke filled.  my heart thumped.  lord, i love this kid or i would be hiding under my bed with pippin. 

but here's the thing.  i made it there and back safely.  kidlet is safe.  life is a journey and dammit, we will both learn how to dance in the rain.  it's all a matter of timing. even if i have two left feet.

good news . . . bad news

kidlet was readmitted to the hospital.  hopefully, their newest plan of action will help.  their guestimate is 3 to 5 days.  all prayers gratefully accepted.

i'm having a passionate affair with . . .

chickpeas.  you know, those disgusting little irregular blobs of brown goop that show their obligatory visage on every salad bar east of the mississippi.  you can't miss them, they are the one bowl, sunk into the shaved ice, that never needs to be refilled because no one touches them.  ever.  more like folks point and mutter repulsive verbiage while moving on to the pickled beets, ears of baby corn and damp cottage cheese.

but swirl those puppies with a little olive oil, salt and pepper and heaven appears on your doorstep.  toss them with some feta cheese, spinach and greek olives and my head spins in delight.  my new favorite luncheon contains fresh tomato and cucumber salad mixed with avocado chunks, chickpeas torn basil, and freshly ground pepper.  let me just faint. now.

Sue sent me this fabulous recipe yesterday morning.  is there anything better than tomatoes, basil, asparagus tips, avocado and feta?  of course.  bring on the chickpeas.

hummus!  have we mentioned hummus?  another huge slurp brought to you by the chickpea.  what better to dig into with baked pita chips.  add in some fresh garlic.  a little salsa.  some feta?  i'm drooling and it's after 10:00 . . . the kitchen is closed.  maybe.

and so, it is true, i am in love with those brilliant little balls of protein.  i'm not sorry they are not more universally accepted . . . more for me. 

don't try them.  you won't like them.  mine. mine. mine.  i heart.

keeper of the flame . . .

sometimes, low is so far down and murky, kidlet fears she won't remember who she was.  she cannot see the light that is her soul.  that flicker of bright that breaks forth in glee.  the remarkable timing that makes her sense of humor flow and bubble.  the busyness of her brain that electrifies her fingers to create the imaginable from the imaginary. the resolute flint that charges her lightness and spews forth ideas and creativity.

the child who runs free is still there under the pain and miasma. yesterday at the therapist it was hard for her to remember her old self.  she sobbed.  the tears flew.

but i remember.  i remember she who is quick to laugh.  quick to light up the world around her.  quick to care about those she loves.  i remember the soul that does no harm.  that would burst forth with imagination.  she who held together with the 9TS and i through all the miles it took for melanoma to win. i remember the tenacity. the strength. the guts.

and we, who remember and love her so, are charged as keepers of the flame until she is strong enough to keep herself afloat.  strong enough to say, i have been sick but i am back.  because she will be.  back.  and strong.  but until then, we will keep her safe.  we, the keepers of the flame.

morning conversation . . .

me:  whatcha doing on the window sill pip?

pip:  watching the world go bye, mommy.

me:  anything interesting, pip?

pip: oh yes, mommy, BIRDS!

me:  those are crows pippin.  do you like them?

pip: [eye's twinkling in the morning light]  very much so, mommy.

me: what would you do if one flew up here, pip?

pip:  [looking at me in amazement]  could they?

me:  yes, pippin!

pip:  [clearly agitated]  run away and hide under the bed, mommy!!!!

so much for my brave little pippin.  snort.

my heart is so full . . .

that my eyes are leaking.

the doorbell rang a little while ago and standing there was a delivery woman from our local florist holding the most gorgeous pink bouquet of flowers. . . a combination that screamed of spring . . .  a new season,  a new chance, change in the wind . . .  with a card addressed to 'jeanne and kidlet'.  i must have looked at her quizzically because she said, 'the name is on the inside.'  i looked again and handed her the card.  her turn to look confused.  no name. 

look!

 and my personal favorite, a batch of fuzzy orange tongues

but nosiness that i am, i really, really needed to know from whence these came.  a little reverse phone look up and the guilty party was revealed and that is when the dam broke.

sometimes i get so wrapped up in the changes of the last year that i forget to look outside my own life and see the bigger picture.  this simple gesture from a friend i have never even met . . . who is fighting her own battle like the warrior queen that she is . . . has once again lifted the spirits in this house of mine.

i forget there are people rooting for us.  i forget how kind the human soul is.  i forget how blessed we are. 

thank you for the reminder, les.  thank you from the bottom of my heart.