it must be noted . . .

i know you are probably looking for a kidlet update but things are still rather 'fragile' around here so how about a pippin update.

story #1

my next door neighbor found herself locked out of the house while walking her newly adopted seven year old pup by the name of cera.  when she knocked on our door to use a phone, i invited her and cera inside.  while the three of us were sitting around waiting for the royal canadian mounties, cera nosed toward kidlet and graciously accepted lots of ear scratching and rump rubbing.  it was then that a nosy little beast named pippin decided there was something going on in the kitchen that needed her attention.  she came scampering around the corner until she realized the space was occupied by a black haired monster soaking up attention that obviously belonged to her.  she put on the brakes, hunkered down and did a little sideways dance before advancing the first inch.  it must be noted that cera was facing away and had not yet discovered pip.  not knowing how cera would react, kidlet held tight to her leash.  seems cera has been around cats before and had little or no interest in the antics of a squirrel jammed in a cat suit.  pip however, was interested, until she realized exactly how much larger cera was then she and hightailed it back upstairs.  long after cera departed, pip would slither down the stairs looking for the monster from the kitchen. i know she had tales to share with ninja and bear.

story #2

speaking of slithering, pip has a habit of dancing down the railings from the first to second floor.  she is pretty good with balancing and has only crashed and burned once that i know of.  the lamp took the brunt of that fall with pip merely shaking her head in disgust and trying again.  it must be noted that our stairs make a 45 degree turn and the resulting landing is a favorite hide out for all three beasties.  on this particular afternoon, bear had decided to nest on the first step above the landing, right under the end of the first banister.  by the time i noticed what was going on, pip was climbing the railing, flattening out at the top, leaning over and swatting at the unsuspecting bear.  she would then pop back up, skitter back down the banister, turn around at the bottom and repeat.  i watched her dance to the top three times to swat at poor bear.  i think of fourth time was coming but she lost her balance at the bottom and decided to move on to greener fields.

story #3

it must be noted that pippin is not a dog.  although she follows me around the house, plays fetch, and warms my feet, she is not a canine.  i do however, occasionally refer to her as my 'puppy dog'.  night before last, she came sprinting into the kitchen.  kidlet and i were chatting and just to be silly, i looked at pip and said, 'sit doggy, sit,"  and she did.  oh.my.gosh.who.is.this beastie.

and just to let you know, kidlet is hanging in there.  thanks for all the love and support . . . from both of us!!!

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.