Being

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Hello Everyone!  Will you look at that grin plastered on my face?  It’s me, quite giddy that I’ve bridged the twenty years since I’d been in the presence of my friend here, someone very dear to my heart, Ann Balderston.  Actually, now she’s got another “B” name but will always be Balderston to me.  We met in first grade, and though I have zero recollection of our actual meeting, I feel fairly certain that it must have been like lightning striking, because we were pretty much attached at the hip for the next two years.

Every day, on my way to school, I walked to Ann’s house and picked her up before spending the day at Thomson Elementary.  As we both had Ms. Weiss (my favorite elementary school teacher – I had her in first, second, and sixth grade, lucky me!), we’d spend the whole of the day in each other’s presence and rather happily, too, class, lunch, recess, walking home.

As one might expect, I would, quite often, spend the afternoon at her house, playing house, or with dolls, creating wonderfully imaginative schemes to keep us entertained for the ages.  It was such a special time in my life, full of magic.

Part of that, I’m sure, stems from the many firsts tied to our friendship.  She was, my first best friend, the first person to whom I told my secrets and dreams and felt a deep spiritual connection.  It was at her house that I first heard a foreign accent in person, for her mom, ever so sweet and kind, was from England and spoke like someone out of the movies.  Also, it was at Ann’s that I first had tea with milk (and lots of sugar), wax beans, and SPAM – such an adventure!

On another magical occasion, my very first sleepover, I remember sitting in my night gown at the table in the kitchen, sipping tea while Ann’s mom told us a story of some sort.  I wish I could remember what it was about.  We retired to the basement and our sleeping bags and giggled well into the night.

Quite appropriately, it was with Ann that I first found my love of dancing.  This was well into second grade, and being the time that it was, our school was hosting an afternoon fundraiser in the form of a disco.  We played Abba record after Abba record, dancing queens holding hands and twirling around her living room getting ready for the special day.  Sadly, my Dad decided I was too young for such adventures, so Ann went solo, and I imagined us spinning like tops under a glittering disco ball.

Then, as it happens with magic, the spell wore off.  Ann’s family moved to Florida, and I to other friends, other wonders.  She did return the next school year, but by that time we were different somehow, and though nothing happened to make us drift further apart, nothing happened to keep us together either.

But now, in the ever sweet present, we have found each other and a bit of that magic again.  It seems, on many levels, we’ve led parallel lives, both with sweet husbands, cats, bubbling concoctions, gardens, and peaceful, earth-loving ways.  I guess some things don’t change at all.

Also, more photos from my Colorado trip.  Top to bottom:

The Arvada water tower, The North Wing of the Denver Art Museum (Architect Gio Ponti – gosh, do I ever love this building!),  A horse sculpture and beautiful paintings inside the museum, and the last four of Golden, Colorado, home of Coors Beer (my dad worked there for more than thirty years!) and the School of Mines.

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The ABC’s of Me

Available or single?

For friendship?  Absolutely!  Otherwise, I am reserved for my one and only, Gregory Cooper.

Best Friend?

The Hubster

Cake or Pie?

Old Fashioned Chocolate Cake or Cherry Pie

Drink of choice?

If this refers to alcoholic beverages, I would say whiskey for everyday (plain or fancified), port for sipping on a quiet evening, and something fizzy for summer, like a vinho verde, yum.

Essential item for every day use?

A flexible personality.

Favorite color?

Red for handbags and shoes.  Pink for flowers.

Google?

Why not?

Hometown?

Arvada, Colorado

Indulgences?

Heavens to mergatroid, do I ever have a sweet tooth!

January or February?

Why, I’ve never thought about it.  (Deliberating…)  February, for it is closer to March and the glories of Spring.

Kids and their names?

No kids for me, cats rule our roost.  Paris and Milo.

Life is incomplete without…?

Good health, good friends, and good food.

Marriage date?

May 29, 1993

Number of siblings?

One sister + two brothers = 3

Oranges or apples?

Definitely apples, a Pink Lady, to be sure.

Phobias and fears?

None worth writing home about.

Quote for the day?

“The essence of pleasure is spontaneity.”  Germaine Greer

Reason to smile?

I can’t find a reason not to smile.

Season?

The cusp of summer in the month of June – the best!

Tag 3 people?

They’ll do it if they want.

Unknown fact about me?

Now why would I want to tell?

Vegetable you hate?

Beets have the bitter taste of dirt and bad memories.

Worst habit?

Not believing I’m good enough.

Xrays you’ve had?

Dental, mostly.

Your fave food?

Oh jeez, give me a time, mood, and place, and I’ll tell you.  I’m a particular lady.

Zodiac sign?

Gemini, the Twins.  Boy is it ever true!

A New Routine

Good morning gentle readers.  I hope you had a good week!  Mine was a whirlwind of driving, talking, eating, laughing, hugs, kisses, more talking, definitely more driving, and sleeping in my grandparents gigantic bed.  In all, it felt like the pictures, a tall glass of delicious boba tea drained, quite magically, in an instant.

It was a week of infinite blessings, of good cheer and camaraderie, of seeing people I hadn’t in ages, and appreciating the wonders of technology that brought us all together.  Life, quite simply, is GRAND.

And now, today at least, I’ve got to figure out what to do next.  I need a new routine.  My body is finally ready for a little more vigorous exercise.  I want to get the self-publishing ball rolling for Polite Society, finish the short story I started before I left, as well as the novel I began last year (The Sometimes Sordid Tale of My Penmanship).  My generous mother-in-law Martha gave me a beautifully bound book of paper, much in need of drawings and watercolors, and my precious Portland friends now have their kidlets in school, so there’s time during the day to be together.  So much goodness, I tell you.  I just need to get it all on paper and figure out a way to do it all, as Mary Poppins would say, “In the most delightful way!”

So rather than recount my Colorado adventures (don’t fret, this will be done), today I am setting my intention to arrange my time so that I can be all that I can be.  Maybe there’s something you’re wishing to organize?  I say, let’s go forth together!

My friend Kelli asked me this question recently.  I thought, in my very blogger way, I’d answer it publicly.  First off, let’s get physical, tee hee.  I feel like a broken record saying this, but, here goes, I’m t-i-r-e-d.  With the heavy blood loss sustained during my surgery, I am struggling to keep up, energy and oxygen-wise.  To put it into perspective, when I was a blood donor at Children’s Hospital in Denver, I was eligible to give one pint of blood every fifty-six days, the length of time to fully replenish it in my body.  I lost three times as much during my surgery, so I think I have quite a while before I’m not tuckered out performing normal activities.

Thankfully, my incisions are feeling better by the day (though still very Frankenstein-ish), and the only times I experience serious discomfort are when I sneeze, a cat jumps on my tummy, or I jump or jog, even a little bit (like power walking/dashing down the street to get to my dentist appointment on time).  So, I still have a bit more time before I can exercise like I used to.

Now for the emotional.   I am pissed!  I am pissed that I can’t do what I want when I want.  That window needs to be opened or cleaned or whatever, but I can’t do it.  Same goes for the laundry, mowing the lawn, sweeping (I made a mistake by doing this too early), and vacuuming.  I hate dust bunnies!

I am grateful.  I am grateful for my good health, all considering, before the surgery.  Had I been out of shape and overweight, my very complicated surgery would have been made much more so, as fat in the belly makes it even harder for surgeons to do their work in a safe and precise manner.  Also since I was in shape before, I am not suffering nearly as much as I would have to recover.  Oh goodness, I can’t imagine it being worse than it already has been.  Seriously people, it’s been HARD.  I am also grateful for all of the wonderfully kind and supportive people on my block, across the country, and here in blogland.  I don’t think I have ever written so many thank-you notes or shed so many tears of wonder at how tenderhearted and caring people truly are.  You are amazing!

I am irritated!  I am irritated that people have criticized me for having my uterus, fallopian tubes, and right ovary removed at such a young age, even though they were utterly deformed, absolutely useless, and a source of tremendous pain.  I shall never make an apology for this.  I am in charge of my body.  I am irritated that I have gross pimples, headaches, and sleepless nights from taking all these hormones.  I am irritated that I can’t go to Nia class, lift weights, or spend a morning practicing yoga.

I am in awe.  I am in awe of my dear, sweet, funny, and talented doctor.  When faced with the mess that was my insides, she did her best to fix me laparoscopically.  When the blood loss was too great and my life was at stake, she completed the surgery in the safest manner possible and rid my body, for the most part, of the source of the excruciating pain I’ve endured for years.  I am in awe of my superstar husband.  He has been so tender, patient, loving, funny, and kind through what has been a VERY difficult time for us both.  Bless his gigantic heart, I love him so.

I am ready.  I am ready to start anew, to experience a life without so many limits, in boundless joy.

That’s it.  Really.  How are you?

p.s. The dog pictured above is not ours but a friendly guy we met in the forest.  He had no collar (fear not, his owners were nearby), so I named him Angus.  Good boy!

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Will you look at these beautiful, picked-this-morning tomatoes?   They are a mixture of Early Girl and Willamette.  An aside, here’s a little rhyme for the non-locals for proper pronunciation of the river valley we call home.  It’s Willamette, damn-it!  While we’re here, I might as well go all the way – this fine state I inhabit is called Ory-gun, not Ory-gone.  Glad we cleared that up; you know, because I’m sure it was on your mind!  Anyway, getting back to what I was saying.  I put the tomato plants in the ground, along with some pickling cucumbers, what seems like ages ago, and slowly, slowly, they made fruits and ripened to this perfect state, ready for canning.  This is my third and largest batch.

What is that you say, largest?  Yes, largest.  With my recovery and putting food by, we take it a little bit at a time.   If it weren’t for those meddling kids, I mean slugs (at least for the cucumber plants) and blood loss, I’m sure we’d be doing better: more cucumbers, more zip.  I learned at my last appointment that I lost 1500ml of blood during my surgery, which is about 1/3 of my total volume (yikes!).  It is also the primary reason they couldn’t complete the procedure laparoscopically and why I’ve been so darn tired!

Despite wanting to get all of my healing done pronto or wishing I could can ONE giant batch of tomatoes and pickles, that just isn’t the way of it.  Besides, who am I to argue with the grand plan?  There is no magic button to make blood or ripen vegetables at the precise moment of ultimate convenience, no siree.  But there is that sense of satisfaction in knowing that there is one more tiny piece out of the way, ready to savor now or at the darkest hour of winter.  And savor we shall.

Speaking of savoring, the roses are from my neighbor’s garden (I’ve given up on growing my own – too much work) and smell like heaven.  The binoculars are for bird watching.  I love this little corner of the world!

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