Tuesday, December 29, 2020

Quarantine-while! A Few Good Reads - December

 Whew!!!  Got caught up just in time!!!  Here's what's been filling my reading hours this month:

  • Simple Geometric Quilting - Laura Preston.  Over the past few months I have looked at dozens of quilting blogs and videos.  Having finished all my sashiko blocks at the same time B built me a beautiful quilting frame, I figured I'd best learn something about that which I have proposed to do!!  When I discovered the Vacilando Quilting Company I finally found an aesthetic similar to what I had in mind.  I'll be writing more on all that later, but learning more about this incredible maker, her designs, methods and adventures has been just lovely.  She is an amazing artist and I know I will be returning to these pages for inspiration.  
  • Better Homes and Gardens Complete Guide to Quilting - Beverly Rivers and Michael Maine.  This book wins every prize for being the most complete and best step-by-step guide to quilting out there according to those who actually know how to quilt.  I read it all, but will have to delve into it many more times to really absorb all its information.  B is the best friend a girl could ever have!  Always jumping on board, no questions asked, no matter my fancies - Quilting?  Sure!  A trip from Chicago to Seattle by train?  Why not? (I think we both have a few regrets about that one!) - sweetly purchased both of these for me.  I am sure they will be well used as I traverse my quilting adventure.
  • A Visit From the Goon Squad - Jennifer Egan.  I wanted to like this book.  The characters do stay with you.  Their stories spin like venn diagrams from a group of loosely associated characters.  However, I could never really like or admire any of them, despite having sympathy for their plight. 
  • Quilt with Confidence - Nancy Zimmerman.  If you like conventional, old school quilting patterns this book is for you.  There are lots of details on how to create these designs.  I did learn some things about color and contrast.  However, the main information I am really seeking in all this research - how to hand quilt - is sorely lacking.  It seems I've managed to choose to quilt when most who do so either send out their quilt tops for other individuals and companies to quilt them on fancy machines or either machine quilt themselves via regular or long arm sewing machines.  The search for intel continues.
  • The Dutch House - Ann Patchett.  Very well written.  Vivid.  Characters are real and believable.  Ultimately about relationships and family bonds - their incredible strength and simultaneous frailty.  A story of how to manage when those you trust are weak, those who 'should' have your back do not, while others support you - no matter what.  Good read.
  • Where the Crawdads Sing - Delia Owens.  I identified a great deal with the main character, Kya.  As a child of the swamps, dead lakes, creeks and rivers of south Alabama, with a penchant for active study of the creatures, and furtive examination of the people, that surrounded me, I could feel her discoveries and pain.  Smell the fecund marshy ooze in the summer heat, recognize the natural beauty Owens describes so well.  Abandoned by all she knows and loves Kya makes her way in the world - finding a path to love and family, even with part of her soul in the dark. 
2020 has been a challenging year to say the least!!!  However, I was blessed to be able to download some excellent reads through my local library.  Looking forward to the worlds I will explore through more pages in 2021!!  May many great reads come your way!!! - les

Friday, December 25, 2020

If you know - you KNOW!!! Or - Melanoma Metaphor!!!

There was a time in my melanoma world when crappy news, followed SH*%%Y news, followed only by more crappy news!  I wanted so much to shield those I cared about from it.  I tried.  Once.  However, my dear ones made it clear that such subterfuge would not do!  After that - I fessed up.  Poor Freddo always met such news with the laconic, "Well, that sucks balls!"  Ruthie likened melanoma to the stinky green underbelly of wizards.  Ten years down the road from those days, I have acknowledged the shock, dismay, and horror at what melanoma can do with an amalgamation of their two sentiments.  My dear MPIP-ers are only too familiar with my "metaphor" ~ "Damn!  Melanoma sucks great big green hairy stinky wizard balls!!!!"

There has been of late, some discussion that this old saw may need a bit of an adjustment.  I am more than fine with moving on up!  Especially now.  Because of this....


My dear John sent word that something special was on the way!  It arrived a few days ago.  You can see the clear directives noted in the lower left corner.  Those who know me, are well aware that I am impatient, spoiled rotten, and tend to ignore directions.  But, for John, I did as I was told.  And IT. WAS. WORTH IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I laughed and laughed!!!  What a wonderful way to celebrate 10 years NED.  Ten years of my melanoma metaphor.  Ten years of meeting dear ones with the best hearts, greatest sense of humor, and the hard earned ability to find joy.  The fact that melanoma brought us together is irrelevant.  The bonds of friendship, respect and love have kept us together.  My sincere thanks, to you John - for many things.  But today, much love and gratitude for helping me (and all the MPIP peeps) ride out this crazy ass year in great green hairy wizard ball style.  You da best!!!!

Love always ~ les

Friday, December 18, 2020

Quarantine-while! A Few Good Reads - November

November reading was a bit - well - heavy!

  • The Immortal Evening - Stanley Plumly.  As one of the characters in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society noted, "That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you to another book, and another bit there will lead you to a third book.  It's geometrically progressive - all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment."  And so it was.  A Society member had a great fondness for the writings of Charles Lamb and his enthusiasm induced me to pull this volume off my shelves for a re-read!  Plumly tells the story of his main characters' lives through their writings, relationships and in particular an "immortal dinner" Benjamin Robert Haydon held; documented in letters and journals written by the attendees.  What characters, you may ask?  Given that they are known historical figures, these deets should do your read no harm!!!
    • Haydon (1786 - 1846) - Large living, opinionated painter of majestic historical/biblical scenes on a grand (read - physically enormous) scale.  He unwillingly made needed cash via occasional portraiture, at which he was skilled, including some unflatteringly realistic ones of patrons that didn't go down so well. Had little commercial success. Frequent flyer in debtors prison.  But, for whom we owe great thanks!!!  His love of the Elgin Marbles played a huge role in their being rescued from Lord Elgin's garden and run down barn along with the creation of one of my favorite places on the planet - The British Museum. Check out his work - Christ's Entry into Jerusalem - for portraits of all his dinner guests mixed among the spectators.  Though longer lived than many of his compatriots, his death, like his life, was an exercise in frustration.  When shooting himself in the head when broke (again) at the age of 60 was unsuccessful, he cut his own throat - TWICE!!! - before his suicide was complete.  YIKES.  (You can't make this shit up!!!)
    • John Keats (1795-1821) - His father died from a horse wreck when he was 8.  His mother passed from TB (though likely not before sharing the mycobacterium) when he was 14.  Keats apprenticed with a surgeon in 1815, gaining his license and working in a hospital as a junior surgeon in 1816.  Man!  That on-the-job training must certainly have been based on the premise of - See one, do one, teach one! However, depression reigned due in part to fear he would never become a poet and two failed romances.  Even so, his last lady love went into mourning for 6 years after his death.  He battled TB with frequent hemorrhages from same for some years.  His treatment of the disease included a move to Rome for the more temperate climate, being bled regularly (shockingly - THAT DIDN'T HELP!!!!) and a bread and anchovy diet to "ease his stomach".  He died 5 months after his move at the age of 26.  Thanks to Haydon sharing his fascination for the Greek Marbles with his young friend, Keats gave us, Ode to a Grecian Urn.
    • William Wordsworth (1770-1850) - Based on interactions with his friends, Old Willie seems a rather puritanical prick!  But, behind that rather sanctified exterior there was an excursion to France in 1791 at the age of 21 that garnered a lover and a daughter.  Two years later he left both behind and returned to England.  In later years he [finally] sent some financial support to the woman and her child.  Back in England, he married a childhood friend with whom he had 5 children, two of whom died.  Was employed as a government 'distributor of stamps' and a conservative Tory.  His wife suffered a mental breakdown.  His brother drowned.  Reports note he died from pleurisy at 80.  Don't think pleurisy actually kills you, so his death was more likely due to pneumonia.  Whew!  Makes you wonder about his "I wandered lonely as a cloud..." doesn't it?
    • Charles Lamb (1775-1834) - Charles was a writer and essayist.  When young, he attended Christ's Hospital Boarding School known for the violence and brutality suffered by its students.  It is thought young Charles fared better than his peers because he was not a boarder.  Living in town, he was able to go home each day.  HOWEVER!  His home life may have made school look like a cake walk.  He and his sister were in and out of mental institutions throughout their lives.  When he was 21 he entered the kitchen to discover a bloody scene in which his sister, still wielding a kitchen knife, had stabbed their mother to death.  Charles managed to have her placed in a mental institution rather than jail and on her release attained custody of her and cared for her for the rest of her life.  Interestingly, Lamb collaborated with his sister in the writing of several successful children's books.  She earned money doing some sewing and needle work, writing an 'op ed' in a popular British lady's magazine of the time arguing that sewing should be recognized as a valid profession rather than just a domestic task women did at home.  Charles worked as an accountant for 25 years until his retirement.  At the age of 44 he fell in love with an actress who refused him.   He died a generally quiet, funny, bachelor drunkard at the age of 59.  I am planning to read his essays.  One is titled ~ "Lawyers, I suppose, were children once."
    • Joseph Ritchie (1788-1819) - A medical physician (whatever THAT means given the times!!!) turned adventurer who sought the source of the River Niger and location of Timbuktu with George Francis Lyon.  Despite crossing the Sahara, something no European had previously accomplished, Ritchie never neared the destination of his dreams due to incompetence and poor planning.  He died without funds or supplies, dependent on the locals for charitable care, of fever, aged 31, in Murzuk, Fezzan.  Hilariously and horribly, Lamb (deep in his cups as was his wont) on hearing that a guest at the Immortal Dinner was planning this excursion, raised a glass saying, "...who is the Gentlemen we are going to lose?"
So!  Not the lightest read.  Gracious!!  Some seriously interesting peeps with some seriously messed up lives.  Truth may well be stranger than fiction.  Will be seeking out some Charles Lamb essays soon!

  • Primary Care:  2019 Current Concepts Pediatric Updates - PNCB. 167 pages addressing - chronic/recurrent abdominal pain, community acquired bacterial pneumonia, plagiocephaly, 'back to sleep'/SIDS, supporting grieving children and families, NP precepting, transgender children, enteroviral infections, meningococcal disease,  hepatitis A, B and C, Marfan syndrome, congenital heart disease.
  • Primary Care:  2020 Current Concepts Pediatric Updates - PNCB.  130 pages addressing - Newborn and maternal readiness for discharge, bronchiolitis, complicated pneumonia, newborn jaundice, PCOS, fungal infections and infestations, concussion, separation anxiety, fetal alcohol syndrome, electronic cigarettes, lead poisoning.
BOOM!!  That's what I DO!  Bahahaha!  I have a love/hate relationship with the continuing education study and testing that my RN and Advanced Practice/NP certifications and licenses require. I think they are incredibly important, but if not well done they can be a supremely useless time suck.  When they are medically sound and cover topics I feel are important to my practice, I enjoy them.  Gotta say, these were pretty good.

So there you go.  Not necessarily reading that would tempt everyone.  But if you like art, poetry and tragic lives - give Plumly's book a go!  - les

Monday, December 14, 2020

Quarantine-while! A Few Good Reads - October

Pages (and pics) I've enjoyed.... 

OCTOBER  ~
  • Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine - Gail Honeyman.  I was blessed to read TWO INCREDIBLE books this month!!!  This was one.  Eleanor, as awkward and diffident, yet outspoken as she was, was such a relatable character.  Guess that says a lot about me!  HA!!!  So many of the things she thought - and actually said - have certainly buzzed through my brain.  The writing was smart.  The vocabulary amazing.  Her mother certainly had resonating characteristics! Where else might I read a passing reference to Paros fishermen tenderizing octopus by beating them against rocks?  An experience I have actually witnessed!!!!  I don't want to give too much away.  But, please!!!  Give this one a read.  Through her struggle there is redemption and a great deal of humor.  I will never ever forget Eleanor!!!
  • Lunch at the Picadilly - Clyde Edgerton.  Meh.  I've read and enjoyed some of Edgerton's other books.  I was probably drawn to this one because of the many lunches I shared with my Granny at Morrison's.  I don't know.  The characters all seemed a bit tired.  Perhaps that was the point?  Maybe I just wasn't in the mood.  But, I couldn't find a real value in the tale.
  • The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society - Annie Barrows and Mary Ann Schaffer.  YES!!!  Lightening can strike twice in the same month!  A truly incredible work!  A warning - it is written completely in the form of letters.  After the first few pages, I was thinking, "What the heck?  I can't keep up with who sent what to whom!!!"   Please persevere!!!  After a couple more pages it all fell into place.  My brain got in the groove and IT. WAS. WONDERFUL!!!!  Matter of fact, when I got to the end of the first section, I turned back to the beginning and read the entire book OUT LOUD to B!!  He didn't fall asleep or leave!!  And I read it to him ALL DAY!  Not daring to risk spoiling any of your discovery and enjoyment, I'll share that it is a work of historical fiction surrounding the German occupation of Guernsey; an island in the English Channel off the coast of Normandy that I didn't even know existed, much less had the history it has.  Now, I very much want to visit!!!  My only critique is that the rambling end could have been edited a bit, but the sum is so good it doesn't matter.  There is also this:  I wondered at the two authors.  How is a book of this sort written by two people?  Well... Mary Ann Schaffer spent her life working in bookshops, libraries and as an editor.  Rather late in life she began work on this story.  Her manuscript was accepted for publication in 2006, but a good deal of work remained. Unfortunately, about that time Ms. Schaffer began to have significant health problems.  She asked her niece, Annie Barrows, a children's book author, to assist with the editing and rewrite, which she did.  Sadly, Ms. Schaffer passed before publication in 2008.  A story of partnership and love behind and on its pages.  The characters of this book touched my soul.  Their letters demonstrate the best and worst of human nature, the power of love, and the incredible ability of the written word to inspire and sustain us. 
  • The Help - Kathryn Stockett - the film.  Films rarely do justice to a book and almost NEVER make it better.  However, this one and "A River Runs Through It" are exceptions.  I'd seen this before.  But, these characters brought to life as they are by Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, Emma Stone, Jessica Chastain, and the entire cast is something else again.  It is heartbreaking to SEE what white privilege once looked like and get real about its continued presence today.  I broke down in sobs right in the middle of it.  Given what we see in the streets of our nation TODAY - it is clear to me that we have a long way to go.  I pray to whatever gods may be that we do the work.  That we make our society a place of support, respect, and safety for all.  No matter the color of your skin. 
Written words have made me think, feel, learn.  Books like these give me hope.  Happy reading ~ les

Friday, December 11, 2020

Surgical removal of melanoma lesions -


With promising studies regarding "neoadjuvant" responses, deciding whether or not to opt for surgery before or after treatment is a bit more complicated.  Here's a link to Neoadjuvant Reports  
Here is a prior report on metastasectomy -  Surgical Removal of Melanoma   
Now, there's this:

Survival Outcomes After Metastasectomy in Melanoma Patients Categorized by Response to Checkpoint Blockade.  Bello, Panageas, Hollmann, et al.  Ann Surg Oncol.  2020 April 27.  
Introduction: Checkpoint inhibitors have improved outcomes in metastatic melanoma, with 4-year overall survival (OS) of 46% for anti-PD-1 alone or 53% in combination with anti-CTLA-4. However, the median progression free survival is 6.9 and 11.5 months, respectively. Many who progress have gone on to alternative treatments, including surgery, yet the outcome of patients selected for surgery after checkpoint blockade remains unclear.   Methods: Patients who were treated with checkpoint blockade from 2003 to 2017, followed by metastasectomy, were identified from a prospectively maintained institutional melanoma database. Response to immunotherapy was assessed at the time of surgery. Patients were categorized as having responding, isolated progressing, or multiple progressing lesions.   Results: Of the 237 total patients identified, 208 (88%) had stage IV disease, and 29 (12%) had unresectable stage III disease at the start of immunotherapy. Median OS following first resection was 21 months. Median follow-up among survivors was 23 months. Complete resection at the first operation (n = 87, 37%) was associated with improved survival compared with patients with incomplete resection (n = 150, 63%) [median OS not reached (NR) vs. 10.8 months, respectively]. Patients resected for an isolated progressing or responding tumor had a longer median survival compared with those with multiple progressing lesions (NR vs. 7.8 months).   Conclusions: Patients selected for surgical resection following checkpoint blockade have a relatively favorable survival, especially if they had a response to immunotherapy and undergo complete resection of isolated progressing or responding disease.  
And this -   
Metastasectomy for Melanoma Is Associated With Improved Overall Survival in Responders to Targeted Molecular or Immunotherapy.  Medina, Choi, Rodogiannis, et al.  J Surg Oncol.  2020 May 22.  
Background and objectives: Metastasectomy for melanoma provides durable disease control in carefully selected patients. Similarly, BRAF-targeted and immune checkpoint inhibition has improved median overall survival (OS) in metastatic patients. We hypothesized that there is an increasing role for metastasectomy in melanoma patients responding to these therapies.  Methods: Retrospective analysis of a prospectively maintained database identified 128 patients with stage IV melanoma who received targeted molecular and/or checkpoint inhibitors at an academic institution from 2006 to 2017. Records were reviewed to characterize clinicopathologic characteristics, response to treatment, and intent of surgery for those who underwent metastasectomy. OS was analyzed by the Kaplan-Meier method.   Results: Median OS from stage IV diagnosis was 31.3 months. A total of 81 patients received checkpoint inhibitors, 11 received targeted inhibitors, and 36 received both. A total of 73 patients underwent metastasectomy. Indications for surgery included the intent to render disease-free (54%), palliation (34%), and diagnostic confirmation (11%). Responders to systemic therapy who underwent metastasectomy had improved OS compared to responders who did not (84.3 vs. 42.9 months).   Conclusions: Metastasectomy for melanoma is associated with improved OS in patients that respond to targeted molecular or immunotherapy. Resection should be strongly considered in this cohort as multimodality treatment results in excellent OS.
Melanoma never makes things easy.  If I found myself in this position now, I would probably opt to start systemic therapy.  Follow-up fairly quickly with scans to see what is happening.  If the tumor is growing, surgically remove it, and complete systemic therapy.  If it is shrinking, watch while continuing therapy and remove the lesion surgically if systemic therapy cannot take care of it on its on. 

For what it's worth.  Hang tough, peeps.  - c

Wednesday, December 9, 2020

Quarantine-while! ~ For the love of celery!!


Celery is kinda like cilantro.  But, not quite.  With cilantro it seems - you love it - or you hate it.  With celery - you hate it - or you use it.  I like it.  No love for it raw.  But it's a great addition for flavor in soups and stews.  I mean, c'mon on!  It's an essential part of the holy trinity in Creole cuisine.  Anyhow, given the crazy times we are living THROUGH (Meaning - this too, shall PASS!!!) a few months ago I decided to try to regrow my own celery.  Look how cute!  (More on that later.)  And, we tried a new recipe...


Rather, B did!  Celery Tarts!  I warned him making individual tarts would be a pain in the A$$.  (And they were!)  But, he persisted..

Roll out your fav pie dough.  Cut into circles that will fit in the bottom of a muffin tin, along with matching circles for the tops.
After the 'bottom' is in place.  Fill with:  4-5 ounces chopped celery, 2 minced garlic cloves, 1 finely chopped small onion sautéed in 1/2 stick of butter and about - ehhh - 1/4 cup (I probably didn't use that much) olive oil - until soft and translucent.  Sprinkle 1 T flour over that mixture.  Cook for a couple of minutes, stirring to coat veggies with flour and make a roux.  Add 1/2 c milk.  Cooking until bubbly and thickened.  Season to taste with salt, pepper, and pinch of cayenne.
Use your best kitchen gadget - your fingers - to smear a bit of water round the edges of all your now stuffed pastry bottoms and waiting tops.  Place tops in position and pinch edges together with fingers or press with the tines of a fork to seal.  Poke tops with a fork to make steam escape holes.  Bake at 400 for 15 - 20 minutes.

Aren't they cute?  Cool in pan for around ten minutes.  Turn out and devour.  They are shockingly good!!!  Since B's delicate little making, I've used the same recipe in one, much easier, normal sized pie, as a side to a pork tenderloin.  It turned out great.  (Just give it a little more baking time.)  For B's meal we had them with seasoned black beans and fresh cukes.



As far as my agrarian attempts at celery rejuvenation...  Once planted outside, my celery thrived!!!!  Until it was eaten by a critter other than me.  Possum?  Raccoon?  Rabbit?  Who knows?  I guess it still served its purpose.  Anyhow, if you've got a bunch of celery you don't know what to do with, try out this Celery Pie!!!  Seriously, you won't even know it's celery!

Stay safe.   Stay home if you can.  Take care. ~ love, les

Saturday, December 5, 2020

Quarantine-while! A Few Good Reads - September


I only JUST realized that I can "borrow" ebooks online, via Hoopla or OverDrive (which can be read on Kindle readers) from my library without ever leaving the house!!!  Maybe you folks already knew that, but YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Pages I enjoyed in September... 

SEPTEMBER ~
  • Becoming - Michelle Obama.  So excited to finally get to read this.  It did not disappoint!!!  Ms. Obama's ability to relate to others is incredible no matter if in person, a prepared speech, TV interview, or through the written page. Childhood experiences are vividly shared.  She is incredibly forthcoming about her relationships - with family, friends and that dude she married.  She keeps it real as a working mom.  Wife of a candidate.  Mother helping children learn and grow into independent individuals in a very public world.  I loved the story of her placing an over large hat on Sasha while tasked with keeping young children dressed for the brutal cold of the outdoor Chicago stage where their dad was to announce his candidacy during an interminable wait to be beckoned forth from a very warm room.  Emotions and frustrations shared on being married to an incredibly kind but driven man definitely hit home!  Given all that we have heard about the lack of attention paid to the PDB in the Presidency of he who shall not be named, deets on those and life in White House were VERY telling!  Such an impressive lady.  I can't wait to see what she does next.
  • No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency - followed rapidly by - Tears of the Giraffe and Morality for Beautiful Girls - Alexander McCall Smith.  I LOVE Mma Precious Ramotswe; the protagonist and newly minted detective!!  Through engaging story telling, you learn her past, meet neighbors and folks involved in her investigations.  Never having been to Botswana, I feel as though I've been given a peek into its life and geography.  The strong black female voice, a woman's heart, intuition, and observations are on point.  In fact, I was shocked and a bit startled when I realized the prolific British/Zimbabwean author is a now 72 year old white dude and expert on medical bioethics.  What????  Be that as it may, while not a heavy read, it is excellent. You feel for Mma Ramotswe.  Admire her common sense and compassion.  You laugh aloud.  She is of a different time and place but her powers of observation and understanding of human nature are reminiscent of another great detective - Miss Jane Marple. I am currently stymied in completing the series (of which there are 21!!!!) as no others are available as ebooks from my library - but I will get to the others one way or another!!! 
  • Centennial - James Michener.  Having read all the books allotted from my library for the moment - amid today's tensions regarding climate, immigration, and culture - I pulled this fav off my shelves. This is probably my third read of Michener's sweeping epic centered on a small Colorado town, the river and people that give it life. Ingeniously telling the story of the west through the lives of the dinosaurs; the Arapahoe, Comanche, Pawnee and bison; the Irish, Japanese, German, French, Mexican settlers; who lived and died on these majestic plains and mountain ranges.  Despite the grand scope, their individual stories make up the whole.  Michener supplies unforgettable characters, sharing their lives, motives and desires - their courage, foibles, loves, and duplicity.  Atrocities committed against native Americans are laid bare in all its heart breaking horror.  Nature's beauty and unrelenting power across the wide prairie and rugged mountains is vivid.  Man's efforts to survive result at times in unwitting mistakes that abuse the land and its inhabitants, while others wantonly choose destruction in their desire for money and power.  First published in 1974, Michener's words remain eerily prescient.
  • Come, Tell Me How You Live - Agatha Christie Mallowan.  My very favorite people share.  They tell me how they live, feel and think.  When I travel or read, I most want to know - How is it that you live in your world?  How do you manage your days?  What are your struggles?  What are your joys?  Come, tell me how you live. Social media, especially now when paired with requisite isolation from a global pandemic, is a double edged sword in this regard.  In many ways, it provides the perfect avenue for shared lives in a way that humankind has never before had access to, while simultaneously allowing others to hide in plain sight - sharing only a carefully curated and constructed polished version of their world with strangers as they leave those who know them best in the dark.  Ah well - a conundrum for another time.  Meanwhile, this book is absolutely the BEST embodiment of the original sentiment.  Feeling the need to have a moment with an old friend, I pulled this off my shelves to read again.  Dame Agatha was not only an amazing storyteller, but a woman fully able to immerse herself completely and joyfully in the moment.  In this small book, she shares her experiences at digs in Syria during the 1930's with her archeologist (second) husband.  Her rye observations of locals and staff on the tells will make you laugh out loud!  These vivid descriptions of a world so far away from mine made me wish to visit Aleppo, Homs, and Damascus long before they became words associated with recent battles in current wars.  Inshallah, the day will come when I can frequent their bazars and hear the call to prayer in that world.  Until then, I will visit lives and places across the globe through those who are willing to share. 
Reviewing this scribbled description of the reads I enjoyed in September, I realize they are really all of a piece.  Folks from different worlds, cultures, times, and positions - sharing their lives - warts and all.  REAL life.  Come.  Tell me how you live.  ~  les

Tuesday, December 1, 2020

Quarantine-while! A Few Good Reads - August


Playing a bit of 'ketchup'!!!  First installment of - A Few Good Reads, pages (and pics) I've enjoyed...

AUGUST ~
  • Disease and History - Frederick Cartwright.  I pulled this off my shelves for a re-read given the current state of disease across the globe.  This historical account of how humans dealt with diseases as diverse as Bubonic Plague, Typhus, Malaria, and Hemophilia demonstrates effects, not just in terms of individual suffering and survival, but changes wrought on civilizations depending on how well they recognized the reality of their circumstances ~ or not.  If I were Queen of the World, this would be required reading for EVERY creature in Whoville!
  • The Wings of the Dove - Henry James.  Also from my shelves, having been on the back burner for some time.  It is not for everyone.  Not even sure it was for me!  HA! An unknown critic in 1903 wrote, "[On reading this tome, consisting] of 576 closely printed pages, we were curious to know the average number of dashes, commas, and semi-colons on a page; and we found the calculation entirely beyond our powers.  Suffice it to say it is enormous; and most of these interruptions serve no purpose save that of making the reading more difficult.  The effect is irritating:  what might have been clean prose is broken, finicked, piffled away. ... There is no energy, passion, color, and because there is no motion, there is no rhythm in this prose."  George Moore, noted quite correctly, "...Mr. James's people live in a calm, sad, and very polite twilight of volition.  Suicide or adultery has happened before the story begins, suicide or adultery happens some years after the characters have left the stage, but in front of the reader nothings happens..." Still there is the draw Joseph Conrad described this way: "One is never set at rest by Mr. Henry James' novels.  His books end as an episode in life ends.  You remain with the sense of the life still ongoing..."  For all its lengthy verbiage created the sensation of attempting to sail on a pond with rippling water but absolutely no breeze, the language and lives of the characters Millie, Ms. Stringham, Kate and Densher demanded my attention until the end.
  • Turn of the Screw - Henry James.  Read to round out my perspective of the writer.  But, Nah!  Couldn't tell whether the main character was crazy or if other characters were ghosts.
  • Love, Loss, and What We Ate - Padma Lakshmi.  Delicious.  And not because of the food.  An honest telling of lovers, choices made, and family in a way that is never maudlin, self serving, or over-the-top.  Instead, Ms. Lakshmi is intensely human as she shares the life of a woman making her way in the world.  Fearless in tackling what is hard ~ living with endometriosis, life as an immigrant, the pain of divorce, the wrenching beauty of love, and the price that cancer can exact ~ without self pity or preaching.  I really recommend.  She touched my heart. 
  • Taste the Nation, with Padma Lakshmi.  I watched due to the beauty of her book.  A very well done series addressing the lives of American immigrants using their cuisine to tell  of their history, lives and culture.  Looking forward to her next season!
  • Immigration Nation.  NetFlix series.  While incredibly hard to watch at many points, unless you are an American Indian, this should be required viewing for each of us in this country while placing ourselves, our children, our friends and family, in the shoes of those who fill the screen. 
If clothes make the man, reading provides the wardrobe of the mind.  September installment coming soon! - les

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Who hath a book... The story of me and two women.

 

Reading has always been a solace.  An escape.  A suit of armor.  A way to learn.  How to do something new.  How other people live.  A way to see the world.  I loved books and rhymes from a very early age.  Lines from childhood poems, Dr. Seuss and Mother Goose I remember still.  I was entranced with life among pages. This love of books was fostered by two very different women whose every action influenced who I have become more than any others - my Granny and my mother.

Looking back I am not certain of all the dates or how long some practices endured.  But this is what I remember...

I don't recall learning to read.  It just seems as though I always knew, though clearly that couldn't be the case.  I didn't attend kindergarten.  As I remember, I read well when I entered first grade.  I thought going to school, something I had long looked forward to, would be a source of astounding revelations.  Alas, being forced to write page after page of cursive e's, on that horrible grey weirdly lined paper that tore with the least provocation, was sorely disappointing!  Did this teacher not realize how many e's were in my name???!!!  I did the work.  But ~ I cried.  Silent tears.  Yes, I was a crybaby.  A real joy, I'm sure!  Finally, not knowing what else to do with me, Miss McKissick placed me in a back corner and allowed me to read through all the primers.  "See Spot run!"  Posh!  I quickly moved on from that!

I remember waiting on the front steps of The Grey House, aged 5 or 6, eagerly waiting for the mail and subsequent arrival of the latest Book of the Month (I think that was the interval) from a children's book club my parents joined.  I presume my mother guided me as to what days to man my post.  Surely, I didn't do it every day!!!  At any rate, the tremendous thrill when the books arrived is truly beyond description.  The books were surprisingly good for a club that couldn't have been too expensive given my family's resources.  Fifty years later, the pictures and words remain vivid.  Miss Suzy.  "Oh, I love to cook, I love to bake, I guess I'll make an acorn cake!"  Ma Lien and the Magic Brush.  The Mole Family's First Christmas.  Jerome.  Alexander.  The Story of Zachary Zween.  To this day, as I mow our yard, I pretend I am The Sheep of Lal BaghFrom Just Only John ~ "Be yourself, because somebody has to, and you're the closest." ~ is good advice, still.  My mother would read them to me and my two sisters, while sitting on the couch.  The many interruptions as my mother tried to make our youngest sister sit down or stop sucking her thumb, spurred me and Ruthie to begin reading them on our own as soon as possible.  

The summer I turned 12, like every summer the six years prior, was spent on two acres of swampy land just beyond the city limits of an incredibly small town in South Alabama, near the Florida line.  It was hot.  Several of those years were without air conditioning, something I recall missing only on cold winter mornings. Visitors were infrequent.  Mostly it was just me, my two sisters and my parents.  Daddy, a forester at the timber company went off to work week days, returning for a full lunch with tales from the piney woods and of the men with whom he worked, then heading out again.  For extra cash he worked nights welding ragged pulp wood trucks or doing body work on fast cars.  Weekends found him outside in his shop or yard when he wasn't working on the house.  Momma stayed home, sewing most of our clothes, managing the house, with the conviction that children should be little seen and even less heard. Gardens were large with long rows to hoe, vegetables to pick, prepare and freeze. A few years prior, Daddy, with just one man to help him, tore down a lovely old Southern mansion turned boarding house turned ruin, purchased for a dollar, from which to salvage bits used in building our house while we lived in a trailer steps away from the construction.  Huge heart pine timbers became the foundation.  Beautiful knotty beams part of the main room.  Old pipes, to plumb the sewer portion I presume, required packing with jute (?) and melted lead to solder them together; a process I loved watching and helping with.  During the summer I cleaned old brick brought home from the destruction and dumped in great piles.  With a hammer Daddy rigged from a length of pipe welded to a rough, thick, dullish blade, I beat off clinging mortar, loaded them in a wagon, and carted them to neatly assembled stacks for a penny per brick.  On my best days, I cleaned 200.  The year I turned 12, we moved into that house.  As long as I can remember, my mother rarely left home.  She had a car.  She could have.  She didn't.  As a kid, I didn't think much about it.  That's just how things were.  She didn't visit friends or family.  She didn't go anywhere.  As an adult, the strangeness, the limitations, the frustration of that life dawned on me.  Reasons for her reclusive behavior remain unclear.  Fear is the only answer I have been able to come up with given the anger, the rage, that lived alongside and poisoned life for all of us.  At any rate, the solitary excursion for the week, on Thursday as I recall, was to get groceries - either from the A&P or Piggly Wiggly - along with any other errand absolutely required.  If it didn't take place on that day, it would wait until the following week.  I loved Thursday.  I loved the excitement of getting to go somewhere, see other people.  I also loved the possibility of getting to spend time in my mother's presence.  Strangely, despite being home all the time, hours in close proximity to her children was not something that happened a great deal.  That summer, and likely summers before it given the number of books I plowed through - though I can't be certain - my next sister and I were not taken on the adventure that was the A&P.  Where men with hair nets and bloody aprons hacked up carcasses behind the meat counter.  Where rows of interesting comestibles filled the shelves while Muzak filtered through the cold conditioned air.  No.  Instead, Ruthie and I were dropped off at the local library.  As far as I know, a building my mother rarely, if ever, entered.  Only our younger sister was allowed special Mommy Time and the bright lights of the A&P.  Unsupervised, 10 year old Ruthie and I perused the shelves as we liked.  I read EVERY book in the 'juvenile' section.  Laura Ingalls.  Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys.  Heidi got on my nerves.  So did Anne with her Green Gables and Pippi Longstocking.  I moved on to the biographies for children, loving Clara Barton and The First Woman Doctor.  Finding The Lady with the Lamp, Florence Nightingale, freaky even then.  Having run out of material, I timidly ventured into the 'adult' stacks.  Selecting books at random gave way to a simpler approach when I found I had no mechanism for informed choices.  A to Z, baby!  From Aldrich and A Lantern in her Hand to Bronte and Buck. The Time is Noon, The Good Earth, Pavilion of Women.  That last engendered a few questions from the Librarian.  "Do your parents know what you're reading?"  A polite, "Yes Ma'am," was met with a doubtful look.  She never asked about my selections again but remained watchful during our visits; ultimately, bending the rules on the number of books we could borrow and quietly discussing our reads. Dickens and Elliot. Hemingway and Hawthorn.  Faulkner and Fitzgerald.  Helen Hunt Jackson's Ramona.  McCullough, Michner, Mitchell.  Steinbeck and Twain.  I discovered a world of personalities and places I never knew existed.  Words became an escape filled with beauty and hard lessons on how to live.  The backbone of my greatest treasure.  A gift given as unwittingly as it was received. 

Again, I am not sure how many summers included the library drop off. However, this particular summer is distinct because I started work at the local dentist's office the summer I turned 13.  But that year, as soon as we were back home, my sister and I would help bring in the groceries, do any chores required, then sit on the back porch of the completed house, plowing through most of the books we had just attained that very afternoon.  Flipping back to the start, once the final page was read!   It was our happy place.  We especially liked reading there through thunder storms.  Despite her threats and screams for us to come inside, our mother would never venture to fetch us as she was too frightened and would remain huddled in the middle of her bed - at least until the storm rolled by.  Afternoon storms are frequent in south Alabama summers. 

Hattie Celeste, my maternal grandmother, completed her formal education at 3rd grade.  Her complicated life included the loss of her mother to tuberculosis at age 5, a father who was a bit of a drunkard, at least for a while, a step mother who was only 13 years of age, and two younger brothers who required her care.  She was one of the most intelligent and resilient humans I have ever known.  Opinionated for certain, but staunchly loyal.  She could always be counted on to have your back, to encourage and support those she loved.  She was a fierce advocate for education and reading, working tirelessly in the schools her children attended.  She could sew, tat, embroider and crochet.  I spent time with her during summers starting in my pre-teen years and visited her often as a young adult.  Her own reading tended toward Reader's Digest Condensed Editions, religious material, self-help books.  I remember a copy of I'm Okay, You're Okay laying around.  She also liked mild romances, not graphic bodice rippers, and Titillating Tell All's about stars of her time - Doris Day, Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson.  Her most precious gift to me was her complete faith in my ability to become the woman I wanted to be, encouraged in no small part through the books she gave me.  I still have the toddler washable books she sent me as an infant. Used by my own kiddos and stored for whomever they can serve next.  In fact, I have ALL the books she ever gave me.  The little wildflower guide she gave me in 1975, when I was 11 is well worn.  So is The Best Loved Poems of the American People, received on my 13th birthday.  "Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever Gods may be for my unconquerable soul."  I'll stop.  But, yes, I can quote most of the 648 pages.  Later, there was a beautiful copy of Whitman's Leaves of Grass, a book I'm sure she never read.  It was followed by a two volume set of The Complete Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham.  Stories I have read repeatedly over the years.  Given my age at the time of these gifts, I found these books challenging.  That was the genius of her gifts.  To me, these pages exemplified HER belief that I was smart enough, able enough, to comprehend and appreciate important things!  I have much to thank her for.  Her admonition that I stand up straight as a 5 foot 9 inch twelve year old.  My first pair of high heels.  Her letter that let me know she was GLAD I had failed to be a basketball star in my senior year, as it was important that I learn I would not be good at everything I tried.  (Girl!  I didn't just fail to be a star!  I SUCKED!!!!)  Her glee as I drove her tiny self in her gigantic land yacht of a Ford LTD through the streets of Talladega BEFORE I had a license!  Her nervous giggles that gave way to a belly laugh, as she fretted in the passenger seat of my red Camaro as I drove through a terrible rain storm in Birmingham.  She only half jokingly twittered, "I think we're going to have to pull over, because I can't see!"  To which I replied, "It's a good thing you're not driving then, isn't it???"  Her willingness to share her stitchery skills.  The many trips we made to Morrison's Cafeteria for her fav liver and onions and my plate of fried chicken.  The stops I made at Shoney's to pick up her favorite, gruesomely red, sickeningly sweet, strawberry pie.  The lesson learned only after her death, that it is NOT best to save that which is precious for a future special day.  Ahhh, so much!   Still, her belief in me and the love of written words, looms largest.  Thank you, Granny.  I hope I have done you proud.

"Who hath a book, hath friends at hand...."  Indeed.  Reading is a powerful force.  Ruthie became many things including an educator and reading specialist.  I was the visiting 'reading lady' at my children's school and volunteered as such in several others.  I had hoped to return to that and volunteer in a literacy program for adults this year, but alas pandemic pandemonium put a damper on that for the moment.  I repeat, 'This too, shall pass!' enumerable times each day!  Still, the beauty humans convey through the written word has helped me survive this crazy year.  This rambling post is as an introduction to a new segment:  A Few Good Reads....  Thanks for reading!  Watch this space. ~ les

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Quarantine-while! Nesting and Making...


Living through 2020 has been ~ awful.  For everyone.  For those who have lost dear ones to COVID, I am ever so sorry.  For those who have suffered illness or cared about loved ones who have, I hope you are all healing.  For all who have lost jobs, businesses you poured your heart and soul into, your homes - may you have the strength to carry on.  For those struggling to keep life "normal" for your children - you are doing better than you think.  For those feeling alone and lost, you really aren't, though I know it is hard to see things any other way in this moment.  May you all hang onto the hope, no, the truth - that we WILL come through this.  We WILL get past this.  We have a long way to go, I know.  Yet, even the lamest of history lessons show that America and humanity across the globe have survived unbelievable horrors.  That fact doesn't make this one okay.  But, it does demonstrate our ability to adapt.  To survive.  To move past awful times despite the struggle and misery, with grace.  And we will.

For my part, Rose and B stay on me like great big fluffy geese, cuddling their chick under their soft smooth feathers.  But, like any good Mother Goose, one step in the wrong direction and they peck the pee dunkle shit out of the little adventurer. I am a good chick.  I stay home.  I've been out only for doctors visits, to vote, and to go on day hikes.  There have been a few visits with the kiddos - outside, socially distanced.  I wrote earlier of the porch refurbish.  Over the past weeks I jueged up the house on the inside!!!  I cleaned the oven.  Granted, a self cleaning version. Lord knows I have REALLY cleaned plenty in my own doings and as Dr. Parker's maid!!!  FYI ~ Easy Off ain't easy and the teensiest drop will burn the crap out of your skin.  Still, the self cleaning option requires effort to ensure you don't stink up the house or set off the smoke alarm.  Then there's the wipe down and cleaning the door!  I washed curtains.  In my confined state, indoor workouts and puttering afforded unabated views of my interior walls.  They were definitely unsat!  Intolerable!  I had repaired and repainted a crack in the dining area a couple of years ago, but like a lost cat, it returned - with kittens in EVERY room!  I suppose after twenty years the house has settled.  The destruction of Ents, carried away in great, heavy loads along the street to our front over the past few months couldn't have helped. Some internet research was required.  Hmmmm... "If  cracks in sheetrock are repaired using spackle they will return."  Well, that's for certain!  According to an internet repair man with a melodic lisp, in order to remove cracks from your life forever, one must repair them with joint compound and paper tape, applied in thin layers over three days.  I can do that.  Right?  Right!  B was tasked with sourcing needed items during his curb-side grocery pickup.  For some reason he looked rather stressed.  His look of general horror did not improve over the coming days as all pictures came down, holes and various bunged up places were repaired.  Daily applications of tape and joint compound were applied as directed.  Ladders, paint cans, dust littered the entire house.  Mr. Repair Man's advice worked a treat.  Except, the "no sanding" deet was bunk.  Sanding was, in fact, required.  Now?  My walls are fab.  No lines, no cracks, no errors!!  Hee hee!  Maybe I'll crank up a new career in home repair.  I think I'm pretty good at it.  Time will tell!  Clean up from all of that took a bit.  Pictures were rehung, some after improving their frames.  Mr. Photog was most worried about that!  I don't know why.  All his photos would be shoved in a corner, dusty and forgotten with scratches and bent edges were it not for me!  And as one thing leads to another, windows were washed and closets got a good clean out.  So, yeah.  That's done.  B is looking calmer.  Good thing I'm not one to require new furniture, or even rearrange it, every few months like my Aunt Glo always did. He would be beside himself!  We happily own the same furniture we acquired when we married 32 years ago.  Change and restrictions strike us all rather differently, don't they?

I have continued making.  With no shade to those who feel otherwise, this graphic exemplifies my mixed emotions about sharing them:


Still, keeping my hands busy and mind engaged in the stitching process has been helpful and I have posted some of my projects here and on IG.  I have found the most comfort in making for others though I have some tentative garment plans.  With exceedingly mixed emotions, thus far, I have made more than 115 masks.  I hate that there is such a need, but I am glad that I can do something to help family and strangers stay safe in this crazy time.  My contribution is far fewer than many sewists I know.  The idea for two quilts has been rattling around in my brain for awhile.  As yet, one is nothing more than a box of pre-cut strips.  The other was inspired years ago by this pic titled ~ Sashiko by volunteers, 2012, Textile Museum of Canada:

Of an evening I often work on drawing sashiko designs, then stitching them on denim remnants (though I did have to break down and purchase some yardage in order to have the necessary quantity).  
Not so suddenly, I am nearing the end of sashiko squares required and facing QUILTING!!!  Have I ever made an actual quilt?  NOPE!  Do I know anything about making one?  Absolutely not!!!  Still, I've acquired a lovely pale grey linen for the top and a pretty delicate blue print that matches our bedroom for the bottom.  I've included a peek at both along with some recently made squares.  As ever, B has faith!  He has downloaded plans for a quilting frame and will start building it soon!  YIKES!!  I'll let you know what happens.


I am also entertaining the idea of making a new bedroom curtain, something like this one made by Edina of The German Edge  and @the_german_edge  ~


Isn't it lovely?  The style is called "pojagi" or "bogaji" depending on where you look.  I've just begun my research on the process and have much to learn.  This is just a window into my mind!  BAHAHA!

I am keenly aware and grateful for my privileged  position during this crazy time.  Reading and yard work have been lovely diversions.  Did y'all know you can download books from your library to read on a kindle or computer?  For FREE????  It's AWESOME!!!!!  I exercise most days.  Running, time on the elliptical, and/or workouts with utubers.  I am partial to MadFit and Chloe Ting.  B even fixed up an old bike for me!  It had only 7 gears to start with and now has 2 or 3, depending on its mood!  B has worked on it, but that's where we are at.  No worries.  I ride it for exercise, so having to work hard up our hills is kinda the point!  Besides, B would get me another should I wish it and has been told NOT to do so!  I have really enjoyed my rides as the wind on my face and the greater distance I can travel makes me feel as though I'm really going somewhere!!  

I hope each of you have managed to find small joys in simple pleasure in your worlds.  More on books and quilts to come I'm sure!  Stay safe.  Take care of each other.  WEAR A MASK!!!! ~ les

Sunday, November 8, 2020

This hopeful moment...

Hope, like the dragonfly from Pandora's Box, often arises from our darkest moments.  Similarly, the light of hope I feel today relieves the darkness that has been spinning around us for the past four years.  Do not be fooled.  Hope does not erase imperfections.  But it does allow us to move forward, to improve and grow.  Our national moment of hope, as we dare release our breath and smile as there is dancing and gladness in the streets across our nation, reminds me of the top I wear today.  Using a scrap of shirting a bit too stiff for the pattern I tested with its use.  The back pieced together with material too nice to waste.  A trial run that allowed me to adjust the neckline, create the hem I wanted.  Far from perfect, but functional, useful.  And then ~ I ruined it.  In my own inattention, I splashed it with bleach.  I considered tossing it.  After all, it was just remnant used in a test run. Or was it?  I decided my work deserved more than that.  Though the damaged spots would never be erased, I could still render this patchwork into something beautiful, serviceable.  I picked up my needle, selected thread, and stitched part of me - into the blemishes, the irresponsible splatters.  

It seems that is what most Americans have decided to do as well.  We can take this nation, quilted together via a grand outline in its Constitution that - despite its lofty fabric - failed to include ALL the nation's people, and stitch by stitch, repair the tears, the stains, the holes through which too many have been allowed to fall.  As a nation, we have made mistakes.  Yet, we continue to piece it together.  NO!  One man should never own another.  YES!  Women can vote, own property, hold political office.  NO!  The color of your skin should not determine your right to vote, to go to school, your seat on the bus.  YES!  Marriage is a legal option no matter who you choose to love.  As a nation, we have had some spectacular blind spots. The past four years have shown a klieg light on significant flaws in the fabric of our society.  The very lives of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and so many others, were lost due to our blinders and inattention.  Divisive rhetoric from those we trusted to lead us to a better place built walls.  Rage against a common enemy can build an unstoppable force for change.  Anger turned one against the other exacerbates the smallest of scratches into festering wounds.  Mother Nature, in the form of violent storms, raging fires, and a viral pandemic harshly taught us our economy, schools, and healthcare systems were woefully unprepared for her wrath.  Societal injustices were further highlighted as we watched marginalized communities suffer exponentially greater harm than those on higher rungs of the societal ladder.  As thousands die and millions become infected in OUR country, from a pandemic others are dealing with much more efficiently, we realize the necessity of leaders who rely on science and calls to action as well as the egregious harm when those in power pointedly ignore medical advice; choosing instead to mislead and misinform in an act of political calculus.  

As we cast our votes for new leadership, Americans have demonstrated the desire for a different path.  A new direction.  The seeds of division and hatred, systematically sown and tended for the past four years will not be removed from our land without backbreaking work.  Ingrained practices of systemic racism will not be magically erased.  Equal rights and mutual respect will not suddenly be bestowed.  Neither climate change nor a global pandemic will be easily controlled.  Our course correction will not instantly provide jobs to the 50 million Americans who, through no fault of their own, find themselves unemployed.  It will not return the more than 238,000 Americans who have died from COVID-19 to those whose hearts ache for them.  It does not remove the misery of the more than 10 MILLION Americans who have been infected.  It will not bridge the chasm that has eroded relationships between neighbors and within families the past four years of vitriol, hate and mistruths - spewed from the highest office in our land, from the balconies and gardens of the People's House - has caused.  But, together ~ we can.  

Together we can take this country, so full of promise, filled with citizens with fine hearts, littered with noble ideals, and repair its pulled threads.  Correct its crooked seams.  Patch the holes, so that all of us, especially the least among us, are protected.  In this hopeful moment, we can create a country that fits us like our favorite jeans.  That comforts us like our coziest sweater.  That protects us from storms and bitter winds like the strongest coat.  The stains and patches will remain.  But, together in hope, we can make something much stronger and more beautiful, than it was before.

Join me.  Won't you? - love, les

Friday, October 30, 2020

Ketchup! (For Jeanne - who always remembers.)


Yep.  Ketchup.  Certainly not Catsup!   The condiment and when sharing the latest and greatest with friends.  Despite my proud penchant for a prodigious vocabulary and particular passion for proper pronunciation ~ it's never 'catch up' ~ it's ketchup!

When you navigate the planet for 56 years - replete with two cancers, their requisite surgeries, treatments and rechecks - you accrue lots of amazing and odd anniversaries!  Babies and weddings. Graduations and proud accomplishments.  Special trips and beautiful every days with family and friends.  B remembers ALL my "dates" - while I do not.  There is one exception. This one.  About this time ten years ago, despite a clear PET scan the week prior, my throat felt full.  Strange.  I took a peek.  Yep.  A black lump was peering round one of my tonsils. Tammy B's horrified expression after she agreed to take a look at work said it all.  Melanoma.  Surgery was quickly scheduled.  That Saturday I had the affected right tonsil and surrounding tissue removed.  My fourth melanoma met since my diagnosis in 2003.  Left forearm in 2007.  Brain and lung in April 2010.  Not the trend you want ever, but especially unfortunate when there are NO effective FDA approved treatments available.  No clinical trials available either as they required measureable disease, which - luckily - I kept having removed!  We (briefly) considered leaving the tonsillar met in place until it was of sufficient size to allow me entry into a trial for ipi!!!  Craziness!  This time of year, always reminds me of that particular nuttiness.  Surgery had been scheduled so quickly that it was too late to change the fact that B was scheduled to staff the late clinic that evening.  So, a rather haggard mute lady gave out candy to all the little Trick-or-Treaters that year.  Cancer peeps have some strange anniversaries!!  Though we had little hope and no way of knowing it at the time, 10/30/10 marked the start of my now 10 years with no evidence of disease from melanoma.  No small thing.

I had a follow-up oncology appointment earlier this month.  Unfortunately, it was the usual waste of time.  Hidden in a prior hiking post, you may have noticed my colonoscopy roughly 6 months ago, replete with numerous biopsies, was clear.  Strangely though, the routine follow up CT scan of my abdomen a few days later showed ascites (fluid accumulated in my abdomen).  Weird.  At that appointment, it was decided that prior to my next visit, an abdominal ultrasound would be done to recheck.  On that inspection, all fluid had miraculously resolved.  Perhaps ascites happens after lots of colonoscopies?  We just don't usually have a CT afterward that finds it?  Anyhow, I see the oncologist or her NP every three months with lab work, annual colonoscopies and a rather random schedule of CT's that we make-up as we go along.  No one knows what to do with me.  Not even me!  Stage IV melanoma in which you SURVIVE lung and brain mets (as well as a phase 1 trial and a few other sundries) for 17 years is crazy enough.  When you add Stage II ex-goblet cell adenocarcinoma of the appendix, folks REALLY have no clue!  After all my abdominal surgeries in 2018, I did chemo typically used for colon cancer, though its effectiveness for the tumor I had is really unclear.  Three proteins (CEA, C-125, and C19-9) via a blood draw are evaluated at my quarterly doctor visits.  In theory, these would be elevated in the presence of cancer.  Unfortunately they are not terribly specific for my cancer type.  None have ever been elevated. At this visit, when B posed some questions about testing my existing stock of tumor specimens for the presence of mutations for which drugs have been developed to target, the NP went red and defensive, visible despite her mask.  B as Fredo put it, did go "all Rainman on her" as there is no data pertinent to ANY of his patients that this man fails to commit to memory.  Simultaneously, it was clear the NP knew little about it.  NO BIGGIE!!!!  As a provider - or just any human really - if you don't know, say you don't know.  Don't defensively blab, make up numbers and get your nose out of joint.  I always told my patients what I knew and was very honest about what I didn't, while assuring them I would work to find out what was needed to help them.  I think my patients were better served and respected me more for it.  No such sentiment was provided on my visit.  It was awkward.  I was put in the position of smoothing feathers.  Seriously, is that what the cancer PATIENT is supposed to be doing at their check-up???  Good grief!  B felt bad.  Afterwards when discussing how uncomfortable the NP had been, and how difficult it had made the visit for us, I felt even worse when he stated quietly, "She would want me advocating for her if SHE had cancer!"  Indeed she would.

But to finish the useless visit...  B became quiet.  I dealt with the remaining questions.  "Yes. I feel fine."  (No.  I didn't bother to tell her that recently the neuropathies to my hands and feet have worsened.  Not as bad as they were during and after my chemo.  But strangely and suddenly worse again.  The feeling is a bit hard to describe.  Palms and soles burn.  Especially at night.  The most unpleasant sensation is when my feet turn into what I call 'cinder blocks' on a run.  They feel as though they weigh a ton.  I feel unsteady.  Every step hurts.  Doesn't happen all the time.  It's rather random.  Like the penitent patient, I have tried to determine, "What I'm doing to cause this! Is it worse because I ran?  Is it because I did that hand stitching?  Is it because I wore those shoes when I mowed?" The answer is NO!  Nothing I do makes a difference.  As Trump likes to say, "It is what it is!"  I think recently colder weather may be a factor.  But mostly, it is just the shitty result of chemo - lots and lots and lots of patients deal with it.  Docs have no real answers, no real solutions, and no particular interest in listening to a patient drone on about it.  So, I didn't.)  When it was time to finish up and plan the next visit I asked whether or not CT's would be scheduled.  Once again, she didn't know, so she said, "Well, you've had lots of scans over the years, so we are trying to limit that.  So, as long as you are feeling well, with no pain or other symptoms, we'll just see."  I did venture to mention I had NEVER felt unwell or any notable sensation at all due to cancer (tonsillar adventure being the one exception).  Brain met?  Check.  Not one headache, dizzy moment, or nausea.  Lung met?  Sure.  No wheezing, shortness of breath, or respiratory distress of any kind even though we watched it sit there for over 6 months!  Abdominal cancer?  Yep!  Not one stomach cramp, no bloating, no loss of appetite - nothing.  "Hmmm....", she replies.  "Well, as long as you are feeling well, we'll just go with that."

It was incredibly hard not to shout my favorite Billy Connolly line from 'Mrs. Brown', "Are you deaf, or stupid?!!!"

My oncologist called a few days later.  My labs were normal.  No, we will not do any testing on my tumor samples.  Insurance is unlikely to cover it and we would need to repeat it should I recur.  So there you go.  I'm fine with that.  My personal Donkey (on the edge) is - resigned.  For now.

So, yeah.  Ketchup.  It's handy in life and in the cupboard.  I'm not one to put it on my eggs and everything else.  But, it's perfect on burgers and dogs.  A great stand in for tomato paste in soups, stews, meatloaf, and such in a COVID pinch.  Speaking of meatloaf and burgers - here's the BEST ketchup topping - created by moi!

Lessy's Meatloaf with Caramelized Onion Topping2

1 1/2 pound ground meat (I often use ground turkey or beef.  Freddo's fav is made with 1/2 beef and 1/2 ground pork.)

3/4 - 1 cup bread crumbs       2 eggs, beaten        1/3 c Ketchup

2 T dried mustard (you could use regular)           1 T Worcestershire sauce 

1/2 tsp dried thyme         S/P to taste       1-2 ribs celery, chopped fine 

1/2 onion, chopped fine        Splitch of hot sauce as desired

Have meat at room temp.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Beat eggs.  Sauté onions and celery in a bit of olive oil til tender.  Let veggies cool a bit.  Add them and all other ingredients to meat.  If too dry, add a splash of milk.  If too wet, add more bread crumbs.  Don't over mix.  Form either in a ring or loaf in a baking dish.  Bake loaf for 50-60 minutes.  Bake ring for 30-40.  Topping will be applied when about 15 minutes of baking time remains.

Topping:        2 onions, thinly sliced         olive oil         1 c ketchup     

1/4 c honey, syrup or brown sugar       1 tsp mustard      2 tsp Worcestershire

Sauté onions in oil.  Cook at medium high heat until onions are soft and a rich golden color.  Add ketchup, honey, mustard and Worcestershire.  Add hot sauce if desired.  Heat until mixture is thickened and shiny.  Apply to meatloaf or burgers!  Enjoy!!!

There you go!  As Jeanne says, "Slurp!"  Ketchup!!!!  It's good stuff.  In all its forms.  More ketchup in the form of Quarantine-while activities and recent reads coming soon!  Love, les

Monday, October 19, 2020

A promise, a celebration of love, and a beautiful journey - just begun. A love story.

A year ago today, I was blessed to share in their joy as Roo and her Jamester celebrated their marriage.  It was a lovely party filled with friends and gladness.  None of us imagined the challenges the world would face in the coming year - a global pandemic, devastating storms and fires spurred by climate change, racial divisions, political chaos.  On a personal level, Roo was happily teaching MATH to teens (Yikes!!!!) in her classroom one day, only to arrange her living room to film videos for online study the next.  Jamie was working to finish grad school assignments in the midst of a shut-down and attain a counseling position during a hiring freeze.  A long planned summer trip evaporated.  Today, they consider themselves lucky as they are both working hard to help the children and families they serve in their respective schools.  Masks are a normal part of their world.  They help their neighbors and visit parents outdoors, socially distanced.  Though my heart has ached for them, and so many others, during the insanity of this year, I am beyond proud of them both.  So, in their honor...


May your laughter always flow ~




~ like the sweetest mountain stream.


May your hearts stand strong, side by side ~



~ forever together, along the same path.


May your hearts be always bust'n ~





 ~ with the intricate beauty afforded by small things.


May your love possess the power and persistence of water ~



~ to power nations, to carve paths to a better place, to trickle gently over tender souls.


Stronger together.  I love you both.

To many more beautiful years to come ~ Mommy