The home stretch

Busy times at D's parents' place! We've finished almost all of our wrapping, but holiday activities have been ramping up with the arrival of more and more family members.

Things are quite different here this year -- D's brother, the next oldest in the line of four boys, got engaged in August and bought a house with his fiancée. So we've been given his old bedroom for our stay, which is much more private than the previous part of the house we'd been using before (the sleeper sofa in the basement, right next to the pool table and storage closets, both of which get tons of traffic).

I'm very grateful, to say the least. I'm uncomfortable admitting that I need space from people sometimes, but it's something I can't ignore -- I tried doing that last Christmas and ended up feeling horribly resentful toward everyone, even D, through the endless stream of activities I felt I couldn't escape. So this year, it's been a particular relief to have a little haven where I can get an hour of quiet time. It's made these last few days so much more enjoyable.

We've done almost one jigsaw puzzle per night with the whole family, played board games, shared cooking duties, planned the annual gingerbread construction project, gone caroling, and talked ourselves hoarse. And I've liked being part of it. Tonight, we're off to D's brother's house for dinner and then maybe some cookie decorating.

Hope you're all having good holidays. I'll post more once we're on our way to our next destination.

Tea and sympathy

That's what I sent D off to his office with this morning. We think he's coming down with something head-coldish, just in time for a very long set of flights, and we don't want it to turn into a repeat of our 2008 holiday -- a week of fever, sore throat, and achy muscles that started right after we finally made it to my parents' place. We went through such a travel fiasco to get there last year that I didn't even bother to mention that part of the experience when I was blogging the trip. But yes, we are laying in a stock of sugar-free Cold-EEZE and Ricola just in case.

So now I'm crossing my fingers that this goes away. Not just because I want D to feel better, but also because he's a very wounded-animal sort of patient. There's no comforting him until whatever he has is gone, and as much as I don't want to be annoyed by his sulking, after a few days of it, I'm not the most patient nurse either ...

Somehow, I don't think this is the answer

(Very tempting, though.)

I don't know what it is, but I'm just tired. Maybe I'm coming off end-of-semester deadline adrenaline and my brain has forgotten how to function without it. Or I'm running it ragged on pre-holiday stress and it's too amped up to respond to adrenaline anymore. Either way, I'm not making any progress on this recommendation I've been asked to write for a former student, and that student deserves so much better than I can produce right now. So I'm setting the paperwork aside until I don't feel like I have a haggis between my ears instead of the gray matter that's supposed to be there.

Without work, I feel a little lost. There are books I could read, movies I could watch, people I could call or e-mail, but somehow, none of these things feels right. Why is taking time for myself so hard? Or put another way, why is doing something I enjoy not enjoyable enough to make me want to do it?

I think it really is something about the holidays. Even when I'm not thinking about them, they're having their way with my subconscious, dulling my pleasure receptors, willing me to shut down. Every bit of me wants these visits with family (D's and mine) to go well, certainly better than they did last year (that's another story I might get into later, but it really requires its own post, or series of them). So D and I have been coming up with ways to help that happen. On our end, at least -- no promises about what other individuals choose to do. I think waiting to be on our way so I don't have to wonder how all that will shake out anymore is draining me.

Not quite two days left. I wish it were Thursday.

The things we do for love

So I'm stuck on the couch with a kitty in my arms. Doesn't sound too bad, right? It's not. Except the kitty is hell-bent on gagging up her antibiotics, and the only way to prevent it is to wrap her up burrito-style in a blanket and hold her upright until the urge to urp passes. With Simone, it takes about an hour.

Simone came to us with an upper respiratory infection (we asked for a foster who needed a place to recuperate -- it's a big help to the shelter since they only have so much isolation room to prevent the spread of germs). This is her second round of antibiotics, and we're hoping it works this time. It probably didn't help that we hadn't figured out how to help Simone keep her meds in her tummy for the first week's course, but she's definitely more adept at rejecting them than our last foster was.

While I've been sitting here, I've been thinking about these last few months since my return from Little U. on the Prairie. As much as life has vastly improved for me and D now that we're no longer doing the long-distance marriage thing, it's been an adjustment for both of us. I don't mean the little habits we each have that we have to accommodate now that we share the same physical space all the time. Those are pretty easy, and even welcome. I'm talking about the aftermath itself of having been put through the two-year emotional wringer of living in separate places, resenting the situation, and having to suppress a lot of those unhappy feelings in order to keep the marriage intact.

Bad things happen when you stuff your feelings into a dark hole and hope they never surface again.

Both of us did that to varying degrees, and sometimes the feelings leach out in the most unexpected ways. They lead to misunderstandings, arguments, confusion about why our emotions are suddenly running so high.

Lately, we've been trying to unpack all that, acknowledge how wounded we each felt, how we still bristle when our wounds get unintentionally poked. It's helping, I think, but slow. Both of us are different people because of the last two years. But because we weren't there to see the effects of that painful time on the other person, because we couldn't show those effects to each other for fear of making things too unbearable, we react to each other now as if the other person is still someone s/he used to be. When the differences become evident, it's sometimes saddening, disappointing. Or encouraging and relieving. You never know what you'll find out next. I guess that's what makes it scary but also compels us to keep pushing on. We can't not do this.

I just wish it could be a less exhausting process.

On safari

Thank the powers that be for the internet. Because of it, I'm essentially done with Christmas shopping and do not have to fight the crowds at the mall. And almost everything we've ordered is being directly shipped to Illinois and Texas (where we'll be celebrating the holidays with D's parents and my parents, respectively). Less to schlep, less to lose, less to have broken by those oh-so-gentle baggage handling machines when we fly out on the 17th. Yes.

Because we weren't under any crushing pressure to buy gifts, D and I actually did venture to the mall on Saturday. No, we're not crazy. We just have a little holiday tradition of our own, to preserve something meaningful for us in all the insanity: our annual ornament safari.

Each year, we pick out one special item to add to our small collection. For 2008, it was this fish (or one nearly identical to it in green instead of blue -- the one pictured was a gift to D's parents). We're hoping that someday, when we have little Troubadours to share these with, we can tell them a story about the ornaments, where each came from, why we chose each one.

This year's pick is the blown-glass bauble in the center of the bowl we keep on the coffee table (see above). Our tree is so small (six feet tall, not quite a yard at its widest) that there isn't room on it for everything we have, so we put the extras here. It spreads the sparkle around without much effort. We're all about no-fuss decorating.

In other news, my advisor wrote back to me, and all is well on that front. She is totally on board with my ideas about the direction of the manuscript and why that direction has had to shift. She's also excited about my initial structural suggestions (I'd put out a few in response to hers). So it sounds like I can finish this semester without quite as much worry about the next stages of the writing process.

My last submission deadline before winter break is this Friday, so I'm off to get busy on that. But before I go, I just want to say thank you to everyone who's been stopping by and saying hi here. You guys have been terrifically supportive, and it makes a huge difference. And your blogs rock.

La, la, la, la, not listening ...

The end of the semester is coming quickly, which means I have to send my 40-odd pages of rough draft to my thesis committee so I can get feedback before everyone disappears for the holidays. I was cool with that until earlier this week, when my advisor mentioned the one word I've been trying not to think about since my prospectus meeting in May ...

Structure.

My advisor is absolutely right in poking me about this bugaboo of mine. But I've been dreading it, knowing it was coming. If you've been following along, you know that my committee essentially told me to scrap the outline I'd come up with and just play with my writing, see what comes out, return to my intuition. So I did exactly that. I wrote in scenes, threw my heart into the emotional side of the words rather than worry about technical finesse. The result is that I have lots of solid vignettes on the page in raw form. But now, I have to find a way to string them together, to pin them to some kind of larger narrative arc. And I am horrible at that.

I wrote a long letter back to my advisor with my initial thoughts on what form that arc might take, based on the prospectus I'd submitted at the end of the spring, but I was fairly candid about how I wasn't sure it was the right way to go anymore. The reason: the family drama that occurred between then and now.

Yeeeeeeeeees, writing about family is messy on its own, but it gets even messier when your relationships with certain members of your family change significantly. So, basically, I'm not the same person I was when I wrote the prospectus, and the narrative arc I established then no longer helps me tell a true story from my current point of view, attitude, etc. Sigh. I'm glad that I've started the process of thinking out loud about this puzzle and that I've explained where I'm coming from to my advisor, but I really hope she writes back soon. I'm more than mildly worried that now she thinks I'm a total spaz.

And now, back to doing this*

Not totally, but for the time being.

I got a call back from the GI doctor's office a week ago, following up on the abnormal liver enzyme stuff. The good news is that nothing requiring immediate, invasive intervention is necessary. The bad news is that there is no short-term way to address the problem. Basically, for the next seven weeks, I get to abstain from alcohol and all anti-inflammatory meds, see what my enzyme levels look like in mid-January, and then reassess the situation. Which means I get to do the craziness of holiday season without the two things I was kind of counting on to help me get through it: good wine to calm my frazzled nerves and painkillers to put the kibosh on tension headaches (family get-togethers involving Troubadour Dad will do those things to a person). Oh, joy!

Oh, help.

I am going to get through this just fine, I assure you, but it may not be pretty. However it goes, I'll try to make it entertaining here. What's a stressful holiday without finding some way to laugh at it?

I will also be indulging myself in very good coffee flavorings for the duration of this no-alcohol thing. Torani, I'm looking at you and all your tasty sugar-free syrups.

* Photo courtesy of Marketing Sis

A cozy weekend

I wish my sisters and I lived nearer to one another. We had such a wonderful time over Thanksgiving just catching up on sister-news, getting giddy on sister-humor, and sharing sister-time. Did I ever mention that my sisters and I are close? We are. And that's why it's so hard being on opposite coasts.

Almost Dr. Sis arrived on Tuesday with her boyfriend (such a sweet guy!). I picked them up at the airport and got them settled in our newly crown-molded guest room with bonus new light fixture (we replaced the old one right before they arrived as it was missing a cover for the light bulbs -- kind of ugly). Marketing Sis got in the following evening.

We had already done much chatting over e-mail to determine what we wanted on the menu (besides the 20-pound turkey we got from Safeway). In the end, we made farro with goat cheese and butternut squash, roasted herbed potatoes and pearl onions, cranberry sauce spiked with rum, D's great-grandmother's cornbread, and stuffing. It was epic. I am pleased to say the turkey was juicy and flavorful thanks to the amazing broth-and-butter seasoning method Almost Dr. Sis recommended from a cooking demonstration she got to see. We also spatchcocked our bird to shorten the roasting time. Even so, it took three hours to reach the proper temperature since it was so huge, but it was worth the wait. Here's a look at the feast in its final stages from stove to table (thanks to Marketing Sis for the photos):





Now all our visitors are gone, and I'm feeling a little sad about that, but overall, I'm still enjoying the memory of a really lovely gathering. I think Troubadour Dad is hoping we don't turn this into a regular thing (sisters-only for Turkey Day), so it will probably be a whole-family event next year. But we are definitely going to pick a holiday to do on our own at least once yearly. It was too much fun not to make it a tradition.

Work calls -- I've been away from the thesis over the holiday and my advisor wants another installment by the end of the weekend. I'd much rather be doing what Simone seems to love (see below), but that'll have to wait. More news shortly ...

Distraction successful!

This girl is keeping us quite busy. Updates on her and Thanksgiving visitors and such very soon, but I just wanted to post a shot of our new foster. Meet Simone. She's a lovebug.

If I pretend I'm not listening, it will all go away

Not the best approach to every problem, but at the moment, it's the only one I have, going into this weekend.

I had some blood tests a month ago that came back abnormal -- liver enzymes elevated. Mind you, these were done right after our housewarming, which was a wine- and beer-soaked event. Instead of my usual one glass of white, I had more like two and a half. You can laugh; I know I'm a lightweight. A little goes a long way. Or so I told myself.

My doctor instructed me to abstain from any alcoholic beverages for two weeks and have the test repeated. So last week, I went in for another blood draw. Yesterday evening, the doctor's office left a message for me that my results came back abnormal again and that I should follow up with my GI specialist, to whom the data would be faxed.

Aaaaaaaaaaaargh.

Unfortunately, my GI person is out of town and won't be back till Tuesday, so he won't be able to review the test results till then. Which means I'm now going to try to forget about this little bit of news since there's nothing to be done about it for the next 72 hours.

Good Things I Can Distract Myself With:

• The issue with my lady parts that showed up on the CT scan is a non-issue. Yaaaay.
• Almost Dr. Sis, her boyfriend, and Marketing Sis are arriving on Tuesday and Wednesday for Thanksgiving.
• We got our foster kitty (pictured above) adopted this week.
• We're picking up a new kitty to lavish with affection tomorrow morning.
  

There, that ought to do it.

Making do

That's sort of the way we've been approaching the crown molding project this week, namely from a lack of fancy equipment. And despite some hitches, we've made good progress.

What we were missing was an (expensive) electric table saw. Instead, we had the kind of saw that you use arm power to run and a guide (see photo) you can mount on your workbench to keep your cuts straight. Only we had no workbench -- just a lightweight table with a particle-board surface. It was left behind in our laundry room by the previous owners of our house, and we had no use for it, so we figured, why not?

It's really hard to saw anything if your entire workbench jiggles.

Enter the Two-Person Weighted Sawing System. One person sits on the table while the other person saws. Easy solution!

Well, not quite.

In the photo, you see D positioning a piece of molding on the guide, which is screwed down to the table. Note that the molding has to be cut at a 45-degree angle through its cross-section (or so I'm told), which requires it to be held at the tilt pictured. There is no way to secure the molding with the clamp that came with this guide unless the molding is lying flat (as in, parallel to the table surface). So in order to accomplish the proper cut, one person has to hold the molding firmly while the other person applies the saw. Hmmm.

In the end, we revised the TPWSS slightly -- D sawed while sitting on the jury-rigged workbench and I became a human vise for the molding. I do not recommend this approach unless the person sitting on the workbench is heavy enough to make jiggle practically nonexistent. Otherwise, your thumbs will hurt A LOT.

So last night, we finished cutting the last piece for the guest bedroom. This weekend, we're going to get everything mounted. We had originally planned to make do with a hammer and nails. Fortunately, one of D's colleagues owns a nail gun, which we are definitely going to borrow!

Don't spill the beans ...

... because that's exactly what's in these brownies.

I got the recipe from this blog a long time ago but hadn't had the chance to give it a try. So last week, D and I pulled out the baking pans (which sadly don't get a lot of use around here unless they're holding meat-based dishes) and went to work.

The result was delicious! Moist, melt-into-fudgy-heaven delicious. With minimal impact on my blood sugar readings. And I say was because there are no more brownies left. Which means it's time to make another batch.

We've actually been testing several recipes over the last few weeks to include in a cookbook we're planning to give D's mother for Christmas. She always asks us what she should make for us when we visit, but because we've got these pesky dietary restrictions, it's not always easy to come up with a request she has a recipe for. Since this year has given us plenty of experience in creating new recipes and modifying old ones so that we can still eat real food (and have it taste good), it seemed like a good idea to pass our hard-won knowledge on.

In other news, the primer is up in the pink bedroom, all except for a thin stripe we left unpainted just below the ceiling. Because now it's time to put in the crown molding! Nope, we've never installed it before, and I have no woodworking skills whatsoever, but I can take direction pretty well. So as long as D tells me what he needs me to do, I'm there. Well, okay, me and a stepstool.

It's prime time

Yep, the next stage of painting chez Troubadour is about to start, which is very exciting. But before we can pick proper colors for the two bedrooms we're going to tackle, we have to cover up the stuff that's already there. And it's not going away without a fight.

To whoever thought it would be a selling point to paint one of the bedrooms Wal-Mart blue and the other Pepto-Bismol pink: it's not at all charming. Here's what each room looks like with a patch of primer (two coats):



The gray-tinted stuff seems to be quite effective on the blue, but the white is hardly affecting the pink (can you even see where it is?). D's added another coat of white this evening; hopefully that will be enough. Tomorrow, we'll test out some color samples.

To Almost Dr. Sis and Marketing Sis, who will be staying here over Thanksgiving: we promise the guest room will be dry before you arrive in two weeks. But you might have to leave the painter's tape in place -- we're not expecting to get to the actual top-coat color until after Turkey Day, given how slowly this is going ...

When all else fails, try the bathroom

I mean it; it works. See?


We received this Tiffany rose as a housewarming gift from a very dear set of friends, and we'd had it on an end table in the living room where it could get light from the long row of windows there. But it refused to thrive -- by its second week at our place, it was dropping leaves faster than I've been losing my hair (and THAT, if you know me, is kind of alarming). No worries, I'm not going bald, just adjusting to some recent prescription changes. But we were definitely a bit panicked about the fate of our little plant (which did not help with the hair loss).

So I did what my mother has done for years: I put the rose in our bathroom.

There's something about the extra warmth and moisture from our daily showers that seems to help. My mother has reared orchids and other notoriously finicky flowers with great success in her bathroom. Now I see why. Check out those new leaves!

Hopefully our plant will make it through the winter without further trouble and we'll be able to get it established outdoors at the beginning of the growing season next year. For now, I'm enjoying this little bit of life by the edge of the tub.

Are you bummed in yet?

That's what D asked me a few nights after I got my response from my advisor about a thesis extension. (He was hoping I was no longer bummed out that she'd turned my request down. Yes, this is why I love him.)

Unfortunately, I guess I am still kind of bummed out. Basically, the way my advisor's reply went was, "I think it's going to be hard to get your committee together then, and everyone reserves that time for their own writing, and I'm trying to finish a book. So the best I can give you is an extra month; you can defend during finals week. That's assuming everyone else is okay with that time."

Sigh.

I could almost hear the frazzled notes rising in her voice. I understand her reasons for saying no, but muscling in the parts about how the rest of the group would feel about the situation (on an entirely speculative basis) seemed like it was done defensively. A simple "No, I have a book deadline to meet," would have felt less to me like she thought I was being a pain in the butt. I get it, really I do.

So now I feel like I've been a pest when all I'm trying to do is give this project the room it needs to grow. And I'm so bad at brushing this kind of thing off. Being made to feel like a nuisance is so much worse than a form-letter rejection.

But I do have that extra month, if the rest of the committee can make it work. Here's hoping the next three e-mails I have to write don't get the same kind of response.

On a different note -- as promised, instructions on how to make compound eyes! Any questions, just post them in the comments and I'll try my best to help.

Compound Eyes

Materials:

Two hollow styrofoam hemispheres
Shimmery fabric (preferably without sequins)
Superglue (this is the kind we used)
Stapler and staples
Scissors
Wide elastic headband or headwrap
Needle and thread
Chalk or other fabric-marking implement

1. Place fabric wrong side up on flat surface. Then place one hemisphere round side down on fabric.

2. Wrap hemisphere in fabric and mark the width of fabric required to cover hemisphere across its widest part. Add an extra 4 inches to this number.

3. Mark two squares on the fabric with sides measuring the length calculated at the end of step 2. Cut out carefully.

4. Place fabric square wrong side up. Place first hemisphere, round side down, on square. Here's where it gets interesting: imagine that your hemisphere is a compass. Make sure the square's edges are matched to the north, south, east, and west points on the compass (i.e., make sure the square's corners aren't in those positions).

5. Fold the north edge of the square at its midpoint around the northernmost point on the hemisphere. Glue the fabric at this point only (i.e., do not glue the entire edge of the square, as the fabric will overlap and get bulky). Reinforce with staples.

6. Fold the south edge of the square at its midpoint around the southernmost point on the hemisphere. Glue and staple in place as in step 5, making sure fabric is tautly wrapped around styrofoam. Repeat with remaining two edges of square. Allow to dry.

7. Repeat steps 5-6 on second hemisphere with remaining fabric square.

8. Now you're ready to fold in the corners of the squares. Take the northwest corner of a square and fold around northwesternmost point on the hemisphere. Glue the fabric at this point only. Reinforce with staples.

9. Fold the southeast corner of the square around southeasternmost point on the hemisphere. Glue and staple in place as in step 8, making sure fabric is tautly wrapped around styrofoam. Repeat with remaining two corners of square. Allow to dry.

10. Repeat steps 8-9 on second hemisphere.

11. Here's where it gets tricky: you are now going to cut the fabric to accommodate the curvature of the hemispheres. To do this, turn each hemisphere round side up. You should be able to see where the fabric is not pulled taut over the dome. Choose one of these areas to begin cutting.

12. Snip fabric from underside of the hemisphere toward the top of the dome. You should now have two flaps of fabric. Make sure each can be pulled taut around the edge of the hemisphere without causing the fabric over the dome to buckle. You may have to cut further to adjust the flaps accordingly.

13. Pull one flap taut and glue and staple in place. Then pull the other flap taut, overlapping the first flap as necessary, and glue and staple in place.

14. Repeat steps 12-13 with all remaining areas where fabric is not pulled taut over the dome. Allow to dry.

15. Place hemispheres round side down. Trim any excess fabric in the hollow of each one. Glue all fabric that is not secure along underside edges of hemispheres. Allow to dry.

16. Have the person who will wear the compound eyes put on the elastic headband. Position one hemisphere over each ear and mark where the top edge of each hemisphere touches the headband. This is where you must baste the hemispheres to the headband.

17. Have your model remove the headband. Stitch each eye to the headband, as indicated, by picking up a little bit of the fabric from the hemisphere and a little bit of the headband fabric with each stitch. Reinforce as necessary (I sewed a double row to make sure the eyes wouldn't come off).

And that's it! Sorry I don't have pictures of my compound eyes in progress -- that would have made writing these directions a bit easier. But I'll leave you with a picture of the model for my costume:

And the reveal

We had nearly 200 trick-or-treaters last night.

I kid you not! Between 6:30 and 7 p.m., which seemed to be peak time, there was a veritable parade of small children up and down our front walk. At one point, I think D opened the door to a group of ten -- and that's if you don't count the parents who were there as well.

D had a lot of fun scaring the people who came to our place. Whenever the doorbell would ring, he would open the door very quickly and shout a gleeful "AH HA!" This was highly entertaining for the parents and somewhat startling for the kids. Most, after they recovered, got a good kick out of it. But the two-year-olds remained a bit nonplussed, and one younger kid was so thrown off that he said "Merry Christmas" instead of "Trick or treat"! D now claims that he frightened the poor guy into another holiday ...

Oh, what fun D's going to be when he has kids of his own.

Our pumpkins were a hit too. In fact, half the time when D threw the front door open, the trick-or-treaters weren't actually standing directly in front of him -- they were peering into the library window to get a closer look at what we'd carved.

So now, the part you've been waiting for: the costumes we wore to the Halloween party.

Here's D in his bald cap. He was Hitman from the game of the same name. The bar code is actually from a UPS return shipping label -- already adhesive!



And here I am, as a dragonfly.


Props to Good (Enough) Woman for guessing that I was a fly -- she couldn't have gotten closer without knowing the exact shape of the wings. The sparkly hemispheres were my eyes, which I stitched to the headwrap.

We also used binder clips to attach an iridescent scarf to the back of my halter top (see below) to mimic the colors you might see on a dragonfly. Yep, we're all about minimal sewing.


So there you go! I will post directions on how to make compound eyes soon. Also some news on what my advisor had to say. It wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for, but it wasn't a total no either ...

We're ready for 'em

Our first trick-or-treaters! They should be here very soon.

The candy bowl is filled, and D is in his costume, which involved putting a bald cap on him(!). It was a three-hour job but definitely well worth it. I think my makeup skills have been tested to new levels.

Time for me to get dressed, after which we'll take photos. For now, I'll give you a shot of our work from the pumpkin carving party. D's is on the left, and mine is on the right.


And yes, those are naturally occurring warts in the flesh of the ghoulish face.

Last hint

I won't say what this item is since that would be almost a complete giveaway on the whole costume, but there you go.

So the thesis installment has been sent off! And it's nearly time to start dinner prep. Man, I'm tired. I'm tempted to lobby for a meal out.

With my work, I also sent a query to my advisor about moving my defense date from April to July. I found out that I have funding I can put toward the summer since I didn't use the funding when it was first offered in 2008. It would be great to have an extra few months to keep writing, as it's going well -- that would mean more time to turn this project into a substantial piece of a book manuscript. Which would be incredible. There's nothing like paid-for writing time.

I'm just nervous my advisor will say no. Every writer who teaches needs the summer to work on his or her own things, so there's a high likelihood this professor will turn me down, especially since I'm not behind schedule or truly in need of that extra time. This is what I was in a funk about on Tuesday. But maybe, maybe -- ?

I'm going to be on tenterhooks until I get an answer.

Another clue

A package of headwraps.

I will probably use only one of the two we bought -- the intent is for this item to be attached to the costume parts in the previous post. At this time I don't foresee any obstacles that might compound the problem, if you know what I mean, of getting things to stick. But we'll see how it works out.

Other Halloween news: D and I attended a pumpkin carving party last night. I was in a funk before we went -- stressing about thesis funding-related stuff I have to get into the works with Little U. on the Prairie -- but it turns out that a little gourd sculpting in the company of others was all I needed to perk me up. And not because I was sticking sharp objects into things either; I actually made something I was proud of! Pictures to come, I promise.

It's that time again

Halloween is Saturday, and I actually have a costume in the works.

I wasn't expecting to make something new for myself, but we've been invited to a party. And it's our first Halloween together since the year D and I were married(!), so it seemed like the occasion needed proper feting.

To that end, here it is, the first part of my costume:


Before you furrow your brows too heavily, let me clarify -- the pumpkins are not part of the ensemble. They were just convenient for propping up the other items you see in the picture. What are those sparkly hemispheres supposed to be? You get to guess! And the costume is entirely G-rated (unlike some of what we saw at a costume supply store this past weekend), so no, the parts you're looking at are not what you might initially think they could be.

Submit your guesses in the comments! I'll post some more clues as we get closer to Saturday.

In other news, thesising continues. I'm still working my way through my committee's recommended reading list, and the most recent stuff has been really helpful with encouraging me to think in scene form, so I thought I'd share titles:

• David Mura's Where the Body Meets Memory: An Odyssey of Race, Sexuality and Identity. This one was great fun to have with me on my way back from the wedding in New York. The woman sitting next to me on the plane asked to see the title, and her comment after I showed her was, "Well, that's certainly not a light read." Amusing reaction, accurate assessment. Powerful, honest memoir with the most effective parts being the use of scene.


• Judith Levine's Do You Remember Me?: A Father, a Daughter, and a Search for the Self. The narrator chronicles her experience of her father's decline from Alzheimer's and its effects on her entire family (primarily through scene). The limits of human compassion get pushed as the disease progresses -- and the author does not shy away from showing her limits or her mother's, does not ask to be liked. But you end up feeling for the family all the same.


• Sue William Silverman's Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You. Really stunning scene-based reconstruction of the way a child sees and understands trauma while having to keep that experience hidden from the outside world. The narrator is relentless (and I mean that in a good way) in her ability to make clear the emotions of characters who start off fairly inscrutable without beating the reader over the head with explanation.

Okay, enough for now from me. I need to start on the next stage of costume construction ...

The house has been warmed!

And it was great fun.

I know I said I'd try to get shots of the food, but once things got going, there weren't many chances (if any) to do that. Fortunately, our good friends from Portland came up for the occasion and stayed overnight, so we made strudel the next day (at left). They even brought their own steins!

Here are some shots of the finished decorations before guests started arriving. We were delighted that the flags we ordered arrived in due time.



And the gingham-checked tablecloths too.


D's parents sent us proper music (yodeling, alp horns, etc.) as well as D's lederhosen -- the same pair they hung at their Oktoberfest last year.


And to entertain our guests when they first arrived, we invited them to guess how many grains of rice fit into this one-liter stein.


We also put trivia questions about Oktoberfest and the Mid-Autumn Festival around the room (hence the little signs you might be able to see on the walls).

So now our house has seen its first official party and we're looking forward to a few quieter weeks before the holiday season arrives. Which means I'd better get cracking on that next set of thesis pages. Progress on that front continues, slowly but surely. Next deadline in one week ...

And now, we celebrate

Yep, the endoscopy went smoothly -- I have no memory of the procedure, and there were no unexpected allergic reactions. So now, we wait for the results from the biopsies.

In the meantime, D and I are having a party -- a housewarming, to be precise. It's slightly belated because of our hectic summer (couldn't find a large enough window between family visits and weddings to throw a proper shindig). But no matter. We've finally managed to pull together plans for a fun evening celebrating our move to our new place and our long-awaited reunion.

In keeping with this, the theme for our party is East Meets West: we're honoring traditions from Oktoberfest and the Mid-Autumn Festival as an homage to our heritage. (Even though D's family name is Dutch, he's a good part German from his mother's side.) This means there will be many a German beer, all kinds of wurst, and pretzels the size of your head, to be served alongside a variety of Chinese dumplings and, of course, mooncakes. In the spirit of true fusion, we're also making Asian cole slaw and serving a fine Riesling by Pacific Rim.

We are hoping the German province flags that D ordered will arrive in time for the celebration. For now, we've got Chinese lanterns already in place:


(It took some creativity to get the two to hang between the lights in the background of the photo with just fishing line and no nails; I think that was our biggest accomplishment this week.)

So I'm off to finish doing what I can ahead of time to prepare for 30 guests (thus far -- there are still some RSVPs that haven't come in yet!). More on how it all turns out very, very soon.

Good news!

Avoiding this stuff is paying off.

I went to see my endocrinologist today, and he says my blood work looks terrific. The cholesterol (LDL) levels are continuing to come down (87 now, with the goal of 70 or under) and my oxalates are finally within spitting range of normal (34 now, with the goal of 30 or under). So in his book, I'm in fine shape. "Don't change a thing!" he said at the end of my appointment. "This is exactly where I want you to be."

It is so nice to hear that I'm doing things right. It may not mean that I get my pancreas back to its normal function, but I'm maintaining the status quo, and that means no drugs. Just diet and exercise as usual.

The picture above is from my trip to visit Almost Dr. Sis -- this is like her version of Pike Place Market, and it had so many tempting tasty things at each stand. We steered clear of the bad-for-you items and got some fresh salmon, which Almost Dr. Sis grilled up for dinner. Amazing stuff, especially with fresh asparagus and Mom's recipe for wild rice pilaf and stir-fried mushrooms:


Speaking of which, it's time to start dinner. I'm turning in early after that -- the endoscopy is tomorrow at 7 a.m. Looking forward to having that over with! If all goes well, I'm treating myself to sugar-free molten chocolate cake for dessert afterward.

When is something worth fixing?

I asked myself that question a lot over the last two days while I was trying to get my work in better shape for my advisor. After 24 hours had gone by without significant improvement, I decided I'd better start putting editorial notes into the draft with my thoughts on everything just as it was -- and hope that that would show my advisor what my intentions for the piece were and where I was having trouble making it do what I wanted.

Sigh.

It was all going so well while I was visiting Almost Dr. Sis -- every day, I camped out with my draft for a few hours, and by bedtime, I'd have measurable progress: maybe a new section of a scene or a much more fleshed-out revision of a previously written part. But once I got back to Seattle, the whole thing bogged down and sentences began to sound labored and I was reading paragraphs over and over without actually remembering a word. That was what told me that I needed to get some space from the piece. So I sent it off.

My advisor sent me her feedback today with reassurances that she thinks it's going well -- the scenes I'm sketching out are not meant to be perfect and we're going to reexamine everything I write this semester when the new term starts in January. That's definitely a relief. I have my doubts about this particular set of pages, though. Sometimes it really is easier to start a piece over from scratch than to try to take apart and reassemble a badly mangled draft. Guess we'll see what happens ...

In other news, my gastroenterologist got back to me yesterday (via his nurse) about my CT results. The good news: on the pancreatic front, there's nothing visibly wrong. We'll still do the endoscopy next week to see what there is to see and then go from there. The not-so-good news: certain lady parts looked abnormal on the film, so now I have to go get all that checked out by yet another specialist.

Where does this end??? I just want to figure out what's wrong so I can do something about it sooner rather than later. It would be nice if new issues didn't keep cropping up.

Life is a bowl of cherry bombs

Cherry bomb peppers, that is.

You might remember that I briefly mentioned getting to pick our own produce at a vegetable farm when D and I had our getaway weekend in Yakima. Since then, we've been working our way through some delicious peppers that we picked (see below -- and yes, you can laugh; I'm hearing the nursery rhyme in my head too). It was great fun -- we just drove our car to the field behind the farm stand, parked it, and stepped out into rows of pepper plants (that's what happened to be ripe). The aroma was incredible.


The only problem was that none of the pepper plants were labeled. There were long red peppers growing next to short green ones, and sometimes there were even peppers of different colors on the same plant. D and I looked at the field, looked at each other, then looked at the field again. "Okay, I guess we just pick whatever looks good!" he said, and we waded in.

We weren't really concerned with the general flavor of pepper -- roasted, stir-fried, scrambled with eggs; all of it sounded good to us. We just wanted to be prepared for any extra spiciness in our meals. So before we left, we cross-referenced our selections with what was on display at the farm stand. That's how we learned that the cherry bomb is a pepper to be handled with care.

Now, yesterday, I came home to a distinct change in the weather after visiting Almost Dr. Sis. It was cold. As in, down-into-the-30s-at-night cold. And that means it's time to put our cherry bombs to good use! So tonight, we are making white bean chili with them in honor of all things autumn. Mmmm mmm mmmmmm. I love temperatures that make me want to curl up with a warm blanket and a bowl of spicy goodness.

It was quite cool in Almost Dr. Sis's part of the country too. The leaves were just beginning to change color everywhere, which made for a gorgeous backdrop while we were picking apples over the weekend (are you sensing a common interest yet?). We filled two giant bags with fruit -- the perfect accompaniment to baked acorn squash filled with roasted corn pudding. Props to Almost Dr. Sis for finding the amazing recipe here.


It's hard to believe my week of long-awaited sister-time is over already, but that's okay. Almost Dr. Sis AND Marketing Sis are coming to Seattle for Thanksgiving! (The plans are official as of this past weekend.) And Almost Dr. Sis will be bringing her boyfriend, whom I met during my visit (such a sweet guy). I can't wait!

There's more I want to write about from the last few days, but my next thesis deadline is in 48 hours, so I'm off to polish up the pages I wrote while I was traveling. Updates soon ...

Missed connections

I flew to New York last weekend for the wedding of a good friend of mine from college. On my way there, this (see photo) is what I saw from my window.

Creative advertising, no? If only I'd had an internet connection while I was at 39,000 feet. Supposedly, such a luxury is now available on some flights -- probably at a price I'd rather not pay. It would be tempting, though, on the next cross-country trip. This one was five hours, which was actually a very good deal since it was nonstop. Most of the time, I have to change planes in either Chicago or Dallas, and the legs between Seattle and those cities are almost as long. Add layover time and at least one more flight, and five hours on one 757 looks perfectly decent in comparison. Especially with Wi-Fi.

I had a great time at the wedding, which was sandwiched between two brief reunions -- I got in on Friday just early enough to have coffee with a friend from high school (she’s getting her MBA now) before hurrying off to the rehearsal dinner; the day after the wedding, I met up with a friend from my current program and stayed the night with her. Everything felt a bit rushed, but it was really good to see so many people whom I haven’t been able to catch up with from afar. Letter writing isn’t something they tend to do; fortunately, things are easy with us when we’re back together, and it’s as if we haven’t been out of touch at all.

Leave-taking is another matter, however. Ever have trouble saying goodbye because the person you're saying goodbye to starts telling you something really personal or heartfelt and you can't really just respond with, "Okay, thanks! See you around ..."? That was what happened as I was trying to get to the airport on Monday. My friend from Little U. on the Prairie has truly been going through some difficult stuff and was very grateful that I'd stayed an extra day just to see her. She came with me to Penn Station to give us a little more time to catch up and to see that I got on my train to Newark without any problems. But as we were getting close to the time the train was supposed to leave, she started talking about relationship stuff, heavy stuff, stuff you don't want to brush aside because clearly the person telling you about it is in pain. So by the time there was an appropriate opening to check my watch (and I felt horrible doing it anyway) I'd missed my train. And there wasn't another for 40 minutes, which meant that when I did finally get to the airport, it was too late to check in for my flight. There were still 30 minutes to go before its scheduled departure, but that's not within the accepted time limit for passengers to get through security (even without checked bags).

The folks at Newark were quite displeased with me, to put it mildly. When I told the agent at the check-in counter that the self-service kiosk wouldn't issue me a boarding pass, she immediately began scolding me. "It's not the computer; YOU were late!" she said (among other this-isn't-our-fault phrases). I never meant to imply that it was a system glitch, but I didn't think arguing over semantics was going to get me on my plane. So I kept my mouth shut.

She sent me to the gate, where I tried to get the attention of the agent there. He happened to be on the phone and held up a hand as if to say, "Hang on," so I appealed to another woman taking tickets since there was no one left to board. Big mistake -- "You're going to have to WAIT, miss," the gate agent said, with a tone that might as well have implied a "young lady" afterward. I knew there was no point in telling him that I was inconveniencing him because I'd been providing an ear to a friend who needed one, so I didn't bring it up. Alas, such snark! As soon as he'd hung up, he turned on the attitude and started shaking my priority verification card (what I needed to get through security without a ticket) at me. The worst part was that I knew that if I wanted the guy to get me back on my original flight as a standby passenger, I'd just have to take it from him like I'd been a bad little Troubadour. So when he felt the need to reiterate that it was MY fault, not his, that I'd been bumped "because YOU were late checking in!" -- yes, I'm not trying to blame this on your being on the phone, Mr. Gate Agent, why do you think I am? -- I just gave him my best whipped puppy look and behaved as meekly as possible for the rest of his finger-shaking until the new boarding pass was in my hand.

Afterward, I felt really disturbed for allowing those people to behave in such a demeaning way toward me. It was all in the name of getting what I wanted in the end, but I guess part of me feels betrayed by the other part of me that let it go on without defense. Can't win, can I? Sigh ...

I'm at Almost Dr. Sis's place till next Tuesday for a long overdue visit. That, of course, is what getting on the flight was worth -- I wanted every minute I'd planned on having with her. (If I'd been heading back to Seattle, I would have just waited for the next flight three hours later.) So far, it's been a terrific three days here. More on that soon. For now, though, if you've got stories about airline agents with attitude and how you got around them without having to give up your dignity, I'd love to hear them.

Drink and be wary

I meant to blog last week, really. But I didn’t bank on a minor medical mess getting in the way of that.

As I mentioned earlier, my gastroenterologist had me schedule some more tests after my unfortunate GI problems didn’t clear up. One of those tests, just a regular old CT scan to look at my pancreas, was Wednesday morning. It meant getting up at 5 a.m. to start drinking the barium shake (foul-tasting stuff, see photo) so my insides would show up nicely on the x-ray. No problem, I thought; I’ll chug it, sleep a little more, then head to the hospital to get the scan over with.

I arrived on time, did my paperwork, changed into hospital scrubs, and got my IV put in for the contrast dye that, when injected during the scan, reacts with the barium to produce all the fun images on the film. That went fine. You get a very warm sensation as it’s happening, but it’s nothing particularly uncomfortable. When it was all over, the CT technician asked me if I was experiencing any tightness in my throat or itching. And at that time, I wasn’t. So he sent me off to change back into my own clothes.

It’s a good thing there was a mirror in the dressing room. As I was pulling my shirt on, I noticed that my face was slowly turning bright pink. As in the color it takes on after I’ve had a drink (yes, I’m one of those Asians without the enzyme that breaks down alcohol) but more so. As I peered into the mirror, I watched the pink stain spread down my neck toward my chest. Uh oh, I thought. Not good.

I went back to find the CT technician, who took one look at me and said, “Well, I think we’re going to have to keep you here a little longer.” He showed me to a large chair and handed me a very tall glass of water. “Drink this,” he said. “Sometimes people have a little reaction to the dye. We’ll just get your kidneys kick-started so they’ll pull it out of your bloodstream. Just sit tight, and I’ll check on you in five minutes.”

Now I know what an allergic reaction looks and feels like. My sisters and I each have our allergens that produce full-body swelling when we get exposed. So the feeling creeping down my body as I obediently downed the water was very familiar -- and it wasn’t going to go away without proper antihistamines. By the time the CT tech returned, the hives were progressing down my arms. “Hmm, I’m going to go get the doctor,” he said.

Sigh.

They kept me for another thirty minutes to “monitor my reaction,” asking me to drink even more water. By the time they were ready to release me, I’d had nearly a quart of it, to no avail -- the hives were all the way to my knees. So they sent me home with two tabs of Benadryl with strict instructions to call 911 if I “experienced any shortness of breath, increased swelling, or other symptoms.”

Of course, since I had to drive myself, I couldn’t take the Benadryl until I got home. It worked very quickly, but it also knocked me out -- for six hours. I think I fell asleep on the couch around 10 a.m., dozed intermittently, and woke up after 4 with a massive headache. And a first thesis installment deadline 24 hours away. I had a good number of pages written, but they needed serious attention. So, no blogging until I got that done.

The installment has been sent, and I’m happy to say I’m back to normal (no more hives, headache, or haziness). Can’t say I quite feel great about the writing, but more on that later. Feedback from my advisor is forthcoming. As for the CT results, I’m hoping to have them before my endoscopy, which is in just over two weeks. So much to look forward to …

Recent reveille-ations, or the diva cracks the whip

So it turns out that Jada is very much a morning kitty. And by morning I mean any time after 3 a.m.

Within her first week here, we've gradually introduced her to more and more areas of the house such that she now has the freedom to wander around most of it, but at night, we keep her in the upper hall and the laundry room just so she doesn't get herself into too much trouble while we're not supervising her. This has worked out well, except that the upper hall is not soundproof. So in the predawn hours, when Jada decides it's time to get us out of bed with her dulcet but insistent meows, it's impossible not to hear her.

The good thing, though, is that she does get me out of bed, and I've found that I do my most focused work before D is up -- no distractions, just me and my (small) bowl of cereal, a mug of freshly brewed coffee, and my laptop. And since Jada's become friendlier, she'll accept an invitation to snooze across my knees while I'm typing away. (Yes, she wakes us up not for her breakfast but just to have company.) It's not a bad deal: a warm kitty cuddled against my body in exchange for early morning thesis work. Really, I should thank her for the progress she's helping me make ...

We've also determined that Jada is quite the butterball -- she came to the shelter at nine pounds and entered our care with an additional three! So we've been asked to get her moving to help her avoid any further weight gain (I have great sympathy). D is in charge of exercising Jada as he's really good at enticing her to stalk and pounce on things, and a few days ago, he decided to see how interested she'd be in some Mardi Gras beads. Well, she was interested:


Just not in chasing them.

At the end of a rough day

... you can't be that down if you have a kitty in your lap.

Jada has been a bit skittish about being picked up or held in any way for the first week here, so we've tried to limit our contact with her to petting and scratching around her neck or under her jaw (she makes cranky noises otherwise). We'll offer our hands to her so she can sniff them, and when she's feeling friendly, she'll thrust her head into our fingers and rub it around.

So today I had my follow-up appointment with the doctor who put me on Pancrecarb back in July. On his instructions, I stopped taking it at the end of August, but my symptoms (I'll spare you the details) came back with a vengeance within a week and a half. Which means that the problem hasn't resolved itself. Sometimes a bacterial infection can throw the whole system out of whack temporarily, and Pancrecarb can help your body do what it's supposed to while its inner workings return to normal over a few months; since that didn't happen, we need to do some tests to look for other causes. Not what I hoped would be the outcome of this trial, but it is what it is.

I came home pretty unhappy about the tests that are now in my near future, among them, an endoscopy with some biopsies. That in particular shouldn't be a difficult procedure, according to the nice little information packet the nurse gave me after the doctor and I had talked -- I'll be sedated -- but it is unsettling all the same. Of course, we've got company at home right now (D's brother and the brother's fiancée, who've just gone to bed) so I haven't had the chance to sit with the thoughts in my head until this moment.

When I did finally get to plop down on the couch, Jada appeared. And she put her front paws on my knees and asked with a little meow to be picked up -- a first for her since she's been so reluctant to be touched. I lifted her into my lap and let her stand there, looking around from her new vantage point. Then she arranged herself very deliberately over my knees and cuddled down for a nap. I've been typing as carefully as I can so as not to disturb her -- it's such a nice feeling to have her so close.

So like I said, you can't be that down at the end of a rough day if you have a kitty in your lap. Especially one that gives you her trust as a present when you most need something to comfort you. Too bad she can't come with me for the procedure!

Photo by Marketing Sis

A restorative weekend

The title says it all: our stay at the B&B was bliss.

D and I were there for only one night, but the place was so tranquil and relaxing that you would have thought we'd been there for three by the time we left. The inn itself is a converted 1920s farmhouse with all renovations done by the couple that runs the place -- including the refinished woodwork, lighting, updated kitchens and baths, and a second floor addition. The grounds were also completely transformed by them from dry, open fields to shady tree-lined expanses of grass surrounding a sizable duck pond and antique barn. The whole place was clearly a labor of love -- it's been hosting guests for just over one year but it took seven to bring it all to fruition.

We weren't able to check in until after 3 p.m., so before that, we got lunch at the local greasy spoon and then went to a pick-your-own vegetables produce farm (one of many in the area). More on that later; it deserves its own post.

We also checked out several wineries. Most had free tastings, and one even offered special nibbles (as well as, more importantly, the recipes for them) to pair with what was on the pour list. We had a lovely time talking with the people running the tastings (especially here) -- no wine snobbery, just fun and interesting chit-chat about the region, tourism, and the ins and outs of running a family business.

We got to the B&B in the early evening, which gave us time to go for a leisurely walk around the duck pond before dinner and take a few photos as the sun was beginning to set. D also scoped out places he wanted to return to in the morning for more pictures. Here are some of the shots we ended up with.

First, the outdoor seating. These spots have a view of the gardens and apple trees at the back of the house. When we arrived, the owner had votives burning in hurricane lamps by every cluster of chairs, which set a lovely mood.




The duck pond is a short stroll from the house in a field surrounded by a rustic wood fence covered in roses.





On the other side of the inn, an old barn houses curios and antique machinery. My favorite item is the little wooden horse in the loft.



I'll close with my favorite shot, an old wheelbarrow we found hidden among some purple sage. I think this sort of embodied the aura of the whole place: a retreat from time at its usual pace, a sanctuary in tune with the land it's built upon, a home that's both luxurious and lived-in. The idea of work isn't hidden here -- you see and appreciate the effort that goes into creating such a beautiful space, the not quite nine decades of history that have given it its charm -- so the rest you take in its presence is that much richer.


We'll definitely keep this on our list of favorite getaway destinations -- perhaps a return visit in the spring once the thesis is done. It'll be a good way to celebrate a year of hard but hopefully worthwhile work.