Sugar & Spice, and Everything Nice...

That's what little girls are made of... or so goes the rhyme. Many thanks to Aunt Jamie for an amazing "girls only" day out at the ballet!

And today, all of our sweet girls were full of the sugar and spice that the magic of the Nutcracker, and adorable holiday dresses seem to bring out of little ones. Thanks for the magic, Jame!

Let it Snow, Snow, Snow!

Can you believe the weather we are having? We have been having so much fun in the snow. John and I took a little "drive" last night all around the county (doing exactly what they have been urging not to do!) We are so naughty.

John has had to clear off RC's chicken roof two times already for fear she would be lost in a collapse. Shorty is having a ball, although he has been naughty too. We decided to go to work on Friday, and let him out of the truck. He started bounding through the snow to attack a large truck at the business across the street. I was most of the way through the retention pond before I got to him, boy was my heart pounding. He loves to jump like a rabbit and burrow his head into the snow. He also enjoys munching the hard crusty stuff.

Our power was fading in and out last night and transformers were popping, but we never did lose power. We have roughly 14 or so inches of snow and it is still falling. John is out sort of clearing the driveway so that it is not a solid block of ice when it starts to thaw. I believe I hear him driving the Suburban now. I think he just can't stand to be idle, always has to be doing something.

I hope everyone is safe and warm and ready for Santa! I wish everyone a safe and healthy holiday. I will try to post a Shorty video soon.

Perfect 11

Just a quick update. Yesterday's "all clear" report from Dr. Goff gave us the go ahead to celebrate a year of remission. Despite having successfully maneuvered through two rounds of chemotherapy without vomiting, Jamie apparently does not have similar resistance to Mai Tais. But still the Blues Travellers at the Showbox was a just the right way to let go of the anxieties of the week between scan and exam.

I can not think of anything else I could be more thankful for.

Today was another all day stretch at the UWMC and SCCA. Jamie was scheduled for her 6 month CT scan, so we coordinated our follow up with Mercy the genetics counselor for the same day.

Now that we have Jamie’s primary care under control, it is now time to ask “why”? Genetic research is a hot topic of course and the UW medical machine appears to be keeping up with the trend. A few weeks ago the Jamie, Jennifer, Christie and I met with Mercy to discuss procedure and objectives. Jamie, eager to benefit her immediate family as well as society in general gave consent imediately. This meant a simple blood draw, coordinated of course, with Jamie’s regular port flush.

So today was the follow up and discussion of the results. Initially they are looking for a mutation of the BCRA1 and BCRA2 genes. Jamie’s test shows that she has neither. While this itself is good news as it appears to eliminate the most common genetic link both maternal and paternal, the work has not yet ended. If Jamie’s relative’s will be kind enough to let someone shove a camera up their bums and then share the results, we will be able to investigate the possibility of what our able clinician referred to as “Lynch” syndrome, which is not to be confused with any impulse to carry out capitol punishment. Those looking for more on the science can simply use google as regurgitation of facts is not the purpose here. What I will bring, and my audience now expects, is the story behind the story.

Now I must be tactful and withhold many of the juiciest of details as it was revealed to me on sunday that our professional team holds a connection to someone within our intimate circle.

During our initial consult with Mercy, introductions between the women were the usual superficial “very nice to meet you” with femininely limp hand shakes and multiple nods. But when she turned to me, our hands clutched and there was a brief pause. With that ambiguous, one eye row raised look the said “oh, you’re the husband, I have heard about you” and turned away.

My mind raced. Was it some sort of security warning in the file about me and my inclination to wander down dark halls and peek in unsecured cabinets? Or was I the topic of discussion at one of those after hours nurse parties at the little Mexican cantina on Boat street where the put on their “dress” nurse uniforms of short skirts, v neck top and little white hat, and do shots of tequila in various most erotic ways (trust me this has been self censored already)? Or maybe the SCCA staff has misread my previous writings not as whit, but as critique and black listed me?

But today Mercy was all business, except a brief lapse where she talked about how cute Brian and Katie’s kids were, (and who doesn’t already know that), and really proved her scientific skill. Despite my attempts to throw her off guard with the inevitable engineer geek questions about the arithmetic of genetics, she was rock solid. As I probed she remained unaffected and then laid down her trump card. A perfectly drawn, symboled and annotated family tree for Jamie. I was intimidated. Straight lines, archaic symbols, room to write additional notes. Truly admirable.

So still searching for answers as to my status in the UWMC community, we left the CHDD complex with our parking ticket validated.

Jamie, knowing that the agony of a procedure such as a CT scan would not fulfill her sadistic needs, agreed to make the most of our two hour break and accompany me to Recycled Cycles. She once again proved her love to me by standing by while I tried on every fluorescent yellow jacket, plus a couple of standard hues, comparing zippers, stitching and armpit vents. After accepting advice from a modestly pierced clerk and making my clothing selection, I could tell that Jamie wanted more. So next was neoprene shoe covers. Mountain bike style, or the more simplistic road biker’s? Or maybe just the over the toe types? Wait should I go to the car and get my cycling shoes and try them on? Why not? What about gloves? If I buy women’s because I have small hands will that make me look gay? Are you having fun honey? It was a true test of her endurance. And then wait, maybe none of these is what I want as the clerk and I discuss fenders and how they actually might be what I really need. So with apparel behind me, onto the real focus of the store “parts”. But I knew I had gone too far. So one quick lap and to the register to cash out.

It was nearly 1 pm when we arrived at the SCCA and straight to floor 2 we went. In their usual efficiency we were swept through reception and into the waiting area. This is the worst part for Jamie. She is veteran enough to know what is coming. Despite my jokes about her berry (really read barium) milkshake, I decline a sample when offered. We do get some relief though as a Joan Rivers like character reflects with her daughter on the excessive botox use of a friend. “Why would you want fat lips?, I only get it in my forehead”. “Can you move your eyebrows mom?” “ Well dear I think so, but I guess I haven’t tried” “You know so and so has it done every few weeks, I only go every other month. You can’t get rid of ALL of the wrinkles, that would be just crazy” “Did you know that botox can cure migraines?” “ So if you just tell your Dr. you get really bad headaches you can get your insurance company to pay for your botox!”

If you are outgoing, the waiting area can be a great place to meet all sorts of colorful people. When Jamie went back to get her port accessed, I invited a fellow to join me on the couch. He was a bit crippled and walked with a cane, but smiled continuously none the less. Soon it became apparent that his physical disability was only minor compared to the barking from his companion, who rode an electric scooter. She repeated several times that “I am going to wait up front” in a sort of anticipatory tone, but he ignored her as he was apparently much more eager to exchange pleasantries with me. Well, before she could get fully u-turned, the nurse called her name. The man let out a sigh of relief and made himself comfortable.

Now his story started out innocently enough, asking me where I went to school and then elaborating on his youth in Seattle and his champion high school basketball team. But like most of us, no matter how casual our story seems, there is always an underlying theme. So high school championship leads to a community college scholarship. That leads him to Kent. Eventually he and his girlfriend find themselves traveling on 320th in Federal Way late one night. And coincidentally some jack ass decides to cram a bunch of Busch into his gut and then four people into the cab of his pick up. They smash a couple of other cars up before plowing into this guy’s Toyota. Now based on the story teller’s hair I put the story in the 1970’s. The physics are pretty obvious. 70’s Toyota = tin can. 70’s pickup = large chunk of iron.

To quote him “that day changed my lie forever”. Although he can walk, it is with great effort and not without a cane in is one functioning hand. His companion fared no better (note she is not the same woman present day) as he says a broken back has left her in a wheel chair.

So once again we leave the SCCA with our challenges in perspective.


By the time we pull out of the parking garage it is nearly 5 o’clock and thus heavy traffic. I had been promoting the lobster special at Anthony’s for a couple of days now and Jamie agreed that a decent meal sounded better than a traffic jam. We turned to our trusty navigation system and eventually found our way through the Norwegian ghetto of Ballard to the Anthony’s at the end of the ship canal.

I felt conspicuously underdressed, not having my musty corduroy sport coat or faux leather Velcro shoes. But they seated us none the less, just in time for the sunset dinner special. We enjoyed our meal as we eavesdropped on thrilling conversations as “the good thing about my medication is that I don’t have to get up to pee so often” and other such intricacies of the golden years.

Chuckling as we watched old men pick the raisins out of their rice, (we will admit we found the taste weird as well), we unwound from our busy day and reflected on our gratuity for Jamie’s health and the time we have enjoyed together.

36!

Nope, that's not my CA-125 number, it's my age! Hard to believe eh? The wonderful "giant cookie cake" you see there was provided by none other than my crazy (I say that in the most enduring way) baking friend, Katrina. Five layers of cookie goodness (Martha Stewart recipe) with cream cheese frosting in the middle. Unbelievable! John also furnished a made to order Cherry pie! (my absolute favorite)

Thanks to all that celebrated with me this year! It was my best birthday ever. Friends, Family, what more could I ask for.

Sidenote: Dr. Goff has asked me to be a part of a panel discussion at a special event for UW donors, doctors and others entitled "Cinema in Science". I am so excited to help her in any way that I can. If I can get the word out and allow other women to find this crazy cancer early, I'm all in. We will be screening the movie "Wit" with Emma Thompson. For those of you who haven't seen it, be prepared, it is a tear jerker. I would like everyone to know, I did not ever feel or was treated as portrayed in the film. I hope that is not what other women think treatment is like. I will update more once the discussion is over, sometime after Tuesday the 28th.

I'm off to get my 5th haircut!!!

Congratulations!!

As many of you know, we are celebrating the marriage of our friends, Phong and Hoa Hong, here in Westminster CA, otherwise known as Little Saigon. We have been so fortunate to be included in such a special event. The services have been beautiful, but not as beautiful as the Bride. I'm not sure I have seen such a pretty bride in all the weddings I have attended. Hoa Hong, in her quiet way, sparkled like the brightest star today. Poor thing was up at 5 or so, to go get "made up" for the events today. She was continuously going even after we left at 11pm or so from the reception. She had to change her outfit about 3 or 4 times and have her picture taken and was video taped all the while, the whole time taking it like a great sport! I hope all of you agree with me in how fantastic she looks.

Tomorrow we head to Disneyland! For me it is like the commercial where the brother and sister are talking at night and their parents tell them they have to go to sleep and the little boy says "I'm too excited to sleep!" I am such a kid at heart and I am crazy about any rides. Emily and I plan to ride all the roller coasters and scary rides that we can tomorrow. We've talked about the "fast" pass and what we would like to do. We are going to have a blast!

I will have to update you all with some pictures of our adventures, but for now I will leave you with just a couple of the bride and groom.

Their smiles are worth a million! How cute are they?

Did you HEAR that??

We've been getting a steady take of one egg per day since our first post, with the exception of the very first day where we got the two eggs pictured in the first post. We knew that RC was definitely the laying girl, as she was the oldest of the two gals. TC is filling out quite nicely, but is still very young, so we've been cutting her some slack.

It's been a about a week since we have been letting the girls have free roam of the "dog" yard. They seem to really enjoy their free time roaming about, scratching for worms and bugs, and taking the glorious dirt baths they both really enjoy. Shorty has some reservations about his "yard" being taken over and has given the girls a little chase or too, but for the most part, he is his Shorty self and has pretty much ignored the ladies.

I was playing tether ball with Shorty yesterday when I heard something. I thought maybe one of the girls was laying an egg. I looked into the "coop" but didn't see either of them. Both were happily scratching in the dirt. I had to think closely at what I just heard. Did I hear a cockle doodle do? No, I must be hearing things I told myself and went back to playing with Shorty.

This morning John decided to drive the Suburban to work. As it has been rather toasty at night, we had the windows open to our bedroom. I heard the Suburban fire up, just as she always does even though she just gets short occasional spins around town. I dozing in and out listening to Adam Corrola, when all the sudden John bursts back into the bedroom. "Did you hear that?" he wakes me. "What? Huh? Are you crazy?" I give him the stink eye as I usually do when he wakes me up too early. "Did you hear that?" he asks me again. "Yes I hear the Suburban!" how could I not, she is quite distinguishable. "I think we have a Rooster!!! I just heard a crow!!" I suddenly jump up in bed and proclaim, "I thought so, I heard it last night!!"

We believe our young gal TC, is not a gal after all, she is a HE!! No wonder we aren't getting any eggs from him. The first two eggs (pictured below) have to be from RC! So, we are probably going to have to give "her" back to the pound, as there is a "rule" about roosters living in the city. TC is filling out quite nicely, but is also finding his voice, and the neighbors may not appreciate that too much.

I guess this is the chance you take, when getting young chickens from the pound. Maybe since we adopted "two hens" from the pound, we may be able to keep him. Time will tell. We will keep all of you faithful Blog readers updated with all the crazy happenings on the little piece of land we call our farm.

First Eggs

I had just resolved myself to being satisfied with just having pet chickens when to my great surprise I found our first eggs while tidying up the chicken habitat tonight.

It was just after dusk, having returned from our post Weight Watchers dinner out with my parents, I was going through my evening routine of feeding, cleaning up various varieties of poop and settling everyone in for the night. While I had made time to get the newspaper pellets for the rabbit’s litter, I have yet to remember to get the wood pellets from the lumberyard, which according to Urbanchicken.com, make some sort of magic base for a stink free composting chicken floor. While skeptical about the author’s claim of only semi-annual cleaning, I do think that this material may well suited and of course is far less expensive than the material I am using for BB and GB. I had intended to procrastinate on cleaning out the “coop” , which nothing more than an old dog crate filled with local hay and two small litter boxes likewise filled for nests, until the proper material was procured. But my compulsiveness required at least a minimal effort and some straightening up.

I found the boxes a bit askew, and as I pulled them back to position the larger of the two eggs was readily visible. This prompted further search which revealed the second, buried behind in the hay floor. The hens sat above my head on top of the box, patiently observing me but making no motion. I carefully carried my treasure into the house and deposited them on the counter. I returned to find my wards contently snaking on a few greens I left behind. The girls obviously wary from their day’s efforts seemed eager to go to bed and only TC gave a lighthearted squawk as she hopped from my grip and into the crate.

Despite recently receiving an unsolicited opinion that “chickens don’t drink water at night”, I fashioned new water and food dishes that attached to the crate door, hoping to preserve the new paper litter I used to replace the soiled hay as a reward for their efforts. While Red Green may have dust tape, a strong but only temporary connection in almost all circumstances, I use the more technologically advanced and despite common myth, also readily reusable, zip tie. With the careful insertion of the tip of my pocket knife, I frequently save this trusty and most versatile plastic wonder from an unnecessary and unwarranted early destruction in all facets of daily life. Find yourself a little short? Connect two or more into a plastic chain that can bind a tarp, hold up your pants or keep your fender from flapping in the wind.

Feeling that I had made a good effort to comfort my now egg producing hens I left them in peace in hopes a that this marks a strong and steady production of eggs for some time to come. I returned to the house to find that Jamie had already placed them in a carton and prominently displayed them on the kitchen table. Eager to share my success I dialed Katelyn and described our yield in detail to which she responded by assuring me that “the big one is for you and the small one is for Aunt Jamie”.

Unfortunately all this success and revelry is not without consequence. Jealous of the chickens, the rabbits have begun acting out, chewing on the new mdf trim in the basement . This has brought great wrath from Jamie, their former supporter and friend who is now suggesting that they may need to move outdoors and is thus proposing some sort of conglomerate chicken / rabbit duplex enclosure in the new barn yard. Although he feigns a look of concern, Shorty takes no real action, merely lazily watching them perform this gratuitous act of defiance without so much a nudge or bark to scold them. Thus I am left to be their sole disciplinarian as well as defender. I am going to first try a squirt bottle in an effort to deter them and may also try to install some clear plastic corners over the edges, although some have expressed concern regards aesthetics.

So while chicken is off the menu, I fear that rabbit stew may not. My hope is that this phase will pass or maybe I can call on the rabbit whisperer to reason with them.

New Arrivals

In anticipation of omelets everyday, Katelyn ambitiously met me at the door this morning with an empty 18 egg carton. Her silence on the drive to animal services was a clear sign of both her excitement and anxiety for what lay ahead.

Yesterday on my way to Aberdeen I absentmindedly answered my cell phone, and was instantly confused by the woman on the other end. She said she was with animal services. I paused to look over my shoulder to see if Shorty was still behind the seat in his usual “dead dog” position. There he was.

Could it be Nick’s dog Sarah? Had she run off again and somehow I had become one of her emergency contacts (yes I know that sounds insane, “oh please don’t call my parents, there not home, call my friend Shorty’s dad, he will bail me out”)? Certainly the days of the bark complaints had gone to the grave with both Ryder and our neighbor George, who both died of cancer within a year of each other. Plus Shorty had been on vacation the past few days and hadn’t spent a moment home alone in almost a week.

So in the sort of broken, “huh did you say fricken’?” kind conversation we all now enjoy with this "new hands free, still ok to be mentally oblivious statute", I eventually comprehended what she was trying to convey to me.

It all began very innocently after the death of both Ryder and Miles in the fall of 2006. While at the shelter donating some of our remaining dog food, misc. medications and some odds and ends left over from Kay’s cat Lucky, I inquired about their signup sheet for dogs. Jamie of course was still partial to the Border Collies but somehow Corgis were also being given consideration. I always thought them an odd sort, but after seeing a PBS special on the Queen and her own pack of this stubbed off breed, I figured if they are good enough for her, fine by me. So on the list for dogs our names went, with our specific requests noted.

But my curiosity was not yet curbed and so I began to investigate what else I could request. Goats, donkeys, pigs and sheep all have their appeal, but I felt that I might be mocked at Slater Stables if I showed up with any of these looking for another stall to rent. My family and long time friends know I have had rabbits and a rooster as pets and so they seemed ideal choices based on experience as well as our current living conditions.

So like a TLC series we first adopted GB and BB. Then Shorty. And now I was on my way to add two more to the roster.

As we pulled in to the parking lot Katelyn asked if Shorty could come in. With very little effort I convinced her that he would prefer to just wait this one out in the truck and was grateful that I did not have to give the shelter and overly negative connotation by using the term “doggy jail”.

We waited only moments and then were called to the counter where I enthusiastically announced our intentions to pick up the chickens. Trying not to be too rash, and affirm that I was committed, I asked if we could first see them. With some hesitation it was indicated that it was possible, but we were offered some pictures which they hoped might suffice. I was skeptical at first, but as you can all see, these gals are very photogenic and thus I relieved us all of my earlier request and accepted them without further inspection.

I filled out the endless pre adoption questionnaire, which is an earnest attempt in the animals’ interest to keep the ignorant and irresponsible from taking home a pet they cannot accommodate or know where to keep (that was how Shorty came our way). When I came to the questions about how many pet’s you have had in the last 5 years and what became of them, I had to fight the urge to comically write “BBQ”. But my professionalism prevailed and I rendered my $6 in adoption fees and was handed two cardboard carriers.

Katelyn eagerly took her charge , I mine, and out the door we went. We loaded the boxes into a large hay filled dog kennel in the back of the truck and then proceeded on to our next stop; the feed store.

At the feed store we quickly parlayed our $6 bargain into a $60 credit card receipt as we procured feed (organic of course), oyster shell, feeder and water dispenser. Katelyn assured me that the chickens would also need some special bird toys, but I convinced her that they would love our own hand made versions just as much as any store bought chicken toy, even though I am still unsure just what is considered “chicken appropriate”.

As we left the lot I went a little too speedily over the speed bumps and got nothing more than a skeptical glance when I said “looks like we will be getting scrambled eggs this week”. Unwilling to succumb to tall tales, Katelyn turned her focus to Shorty for more intelligent conversation on his new chicken friends and their plans when they arrive home.

After a brief stop at the bakery for nourishment we backed the truck up to the rear gate of the dog yard. After a lot of fussing, assembly and re arranging we were finally ready for the big moment. Already showing partiality for the lighter colored of the two, Katelyn selected her box and joined me in the newly converted dog kennel and we closed the door. As we opened the tops our new friends just stared up at us. I grabbed the red and she graciously let me lift her out. I tried to guide Katelyn to do the same, but at the last moment and showing good judgment, she left the task for me. Being an experienced hand, I had no real troubles but there was a bit of squawking and flapping.

We watched them for a moment and then closed the gate behind us as Katelyn rushed to get Shorty out as she assured me that he was eager to meet them. Already rabbit tested, I have no real concerns about Shorty other than his presence might cause the hens undue stress. Although excited, he merely showed genuine interest and trotted around the two accessible side of the kennel, intently observing the two birds. Keeping a polite distance, he kept a watchful eye, but never a bark or any sudden moves which might unduly roust them. And when it was time to go, he left willing to Katelyn’s lead.

As of now the two still remain unnamed. Numerous have been suggested, Chocolate and Sweetie, being repeated numerously as well as some suspiciously masculine names such as George and Roger. As many of you know I try to avoid anything too human as there is nothing more awkward than hosting a BBQ and realizing that some acquaintance or family has brought offspring with the same name as your family pet. However celebrities, politicians and royalty are exempt from this rule and thus this may afford me some relief although with neighbors with so obviously different political concerns than my own, this might also be avoided despite an inclination to name one of them “Madame Gregoire”.

Best Buds

Ten of the many reasons that I'm blessed to have Jame as my best bud:

1. She remembers the face of someone she met five years ago at a party (who doesn't recall meeting her).
2. She's wonderful to talk to about anything at all.
3. We have similar taste in food and beverages, hmm... clothes and well, lots of other things.
4. Our 26-years of history means I sometimes even forget things we've done (and like Jamie, I have a freakishly good memory) but she remembers the things I've forgotton, and vice versa.
5. We do new stuff. Like she introduced me to the Lemon Drop Martini not that long ago.
6. She loves my kids unconditionally, and is marvelous with them. She loves Joel too, and is good at arguing with and teasing him.
7. She married John, who like all excellent partners, makes her better and stronger. Well, and we all love John too.
8. She and I have made each other better too, and the minor tussles we've had over the years have only made us better friends.
9. Yeah, and she's a kick-ass sous chef to my mess-making self.
10. I don't have a sister, and I sometimes wished I did when I was a kid, but now I'm glad that I don't have another sibling. I've got my Jamie instead, and she's way better.

Three Months Down

I had my three month check up with Dr. Goff on Monday. Everything checked out great. My CA-125 was 10, well within the "normal" range. I had my Mammogram the week prior and all was well with that too. No need to get another for a year!! All you ladies who put that off, don't! Make sure you get checked. Try to get into one of the new digital ones. They don't have to squeeze as hard :)

So I am free for another three months, when I will get another CT Scan, CA-125 test and regular blood counts and of course my ever so favorite "exam"!

For those of you that I haven't told, the women's clinic at the SCCA, has a regular GYN doctor. Her name is Dr. Hipps and she sees "regular" patients. I got my sister to go up and meet her, and she will now be my sister's regular GYN. What's nice is you can have all your stuff done right there--mammogram, blood draws, and anything else they might want to do and with state of the art equipment (ie: the digital mammogram). Well worth the drive once a year!


P.S. I also got my 3rd haircut on Tuesday!!!