A New Day

After 17 and a half full time years and tack on another 7 years part time, I am saying goodbye to the College of Southern Nevada as their Performing Arts Center Director.  I absolutely loved working at the college.  Starting as a student production assistant, to lighting designer, to lighting director, box office manager, house manager, assistant director and finally director for the past 10 years, I'm retiring.  I loved working in theatre and at an educational institution. The vibe around a college is just very high energy every day.

 So many friends called to ask how I was doing, was I second-guessing my decision, was I sad?  No!  I have accomplished everything I ever wanted to at the center.  I was on more committees than I can count on both hands and feet. I took work home everyday. I loved every minute. But the last four years on chemo, five surgeries, my administrative assistant removed and not refilled adding to the daily responsibilities, took its toll. It was getting more difficult to put in the hours that I was used to doing. And once the facility was everything I had hoped to accomplish, with equipment and more importantly compliant to all safety regulations (which took three years!) the challenge just wasn't there.

Then there is the family.  Parents are getting older and medical issues occur with a little more frequency. Husband is retired...well sorta! Grandkids are growing quickly. I want more time for family. More trips to Disneyland with the kiddos. I used to keep track of my hours at work.  After I had accumulated over 800 days (not hours!) of overtime (time over eight hours, I was salary so no OT) I realized those were days/hours that really should of been spent with family. You can't get any of that time back. I was committed and very dedicated to my job.  That's how I was raised.  Work hard. But at the same time, sacraficed time that could have been spent with family.

Sure, their are many, many friends I will miss, my staff and particularly the two theatres I managed. But I walked out of the doors yesterday, filled with joy, sans a huge key ring, felt the sun on my face and a whole new world before me.  Yee Ha!

Angels in Our Midst

"People come into our life disguised as angels, and sometimes angels come into our life disguised as people."

Sometimes it gets so hard.  The past three years seem like a blur.  Austin, Texas presenting at the NISOD conference.  Going out with friends.  Severe pain, nausea.  Trying to get an earlier flight home to no avail.  The long flight home.  Immediately going to the ER.  "You have a large pelvic mass, you need to see your GYN right away." Calling Beni, "do you need me to come home?"  "No, I'm not worried." Seeing the GYN.  "This isn't anything to dick around with."  Seeing the GYN oncologist/surgeon.  Scheduling surgery. Being blissfully ignorant that this really could be anything serious. Waking up in incruciating pain. Hearing the words, "ovarian cancer." Starting chemo, every three weeks for 6 months.  98% survival rate. No fears. Truly understanding nausea, bone pain. Finishing the treatment.  Being blissfully ignorant of the recurrence rate of ovarian cancer. Feeling back to normal after a year. Climbing hills looking for the perfect Christmas tree. Excruciating pain. Non-stop vomiting. Waiting in the ER for hours. Non-stop vomiting. Being admitted.  Non-stop vomiting. CT scans with contrast. "Nothing." Non-stop vomiting. IVs and bursting veins. "It's probably the gall bladder." Gall bladder surgery. Being discharged.  Non-stop vomiting.  Ambulance ride to ER. Being admitted. Non-stop vomiting. Wondering if I am dieing.  Three weeks in hospital, no food, no drinks, just IV.  Non-stop vomiting. Certain I'm dieing. Convincing the doctors that something is wrong. DUH! Convincing the doctors to do exploratory surgery on Christmas Eve.  "Blockage. Tumor.  Intestinal resection." Doctor indicates dismal outcome. Wound infection. Collapsed lung. Watching New Years fireworks from hospital window. Discharge from hospital after almost a month. Recovery. Contacting Mayo Clinic.  Setting up appointment.  Meeting with new doctors.  A week of tests.  Scheduling aggressive second debulking and abdominal port. Surgery. More time in hospital. More cancer on kidney and in intestines. IV/IP chemo every 3 weeks for 6 months. Abdominal port removed.  December CT scan. "Cancer returned, no cure." Chance of 5 year survival 4%. No longer blissfully ignorant. Sign up for clinical trial in Phoenix. Check with local oncologist for a "plan B." Clinical trial canceled.  Plan B. Four months of chemo every other week. Ongoing pain in side.  CT scan. "Liver mets increased." Change chemo--weekly for 6 months. CT scan. "Liver mets decreased." Continue chemo same dose every other week. Christmas at home with family.  Another New Year.  Hopeful no longer in my vocabulary.  Nausea is normal.  Not having hair-normal. Working and sleeping. Waking up in a panic not able to breathe is normal. Wondering if this is the year.

Somewhere in the blur some new friends find their way into my world.  Only a handful of old friends care to deal with chemo girl.  I have learned little things mean more.  Phone calls, emails, cards. Some how always when needed most. I know they haven't a clue that I've had a bad night, or read more grim statistics, felt a new pain.  Somehow the right words or image that lets me breathe in and out once more.

I tried to think of some New Year resolutions.  Eat better?  Try not to go to bed before 6pm? Remember my vitamins?  I don't know, seems like it should be something bigger.

I will appreciate more. The sunny days, trees, flowers, family and those friends who somehow found their way to my world.  The friends who stayed old and new.  My angels. I will remember to thank God for angels.

I Promise Myself...

To be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind.
To talk wellness, happiness and prosperity to every person I meet.
To make all my friends feel that there is something worthwhile in them.
To look at the sunny side of everything and make my optimism come true.
To think only of the best, to work only for the best and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as I am about my own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful expression at all times and give no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of troubles enter my mind.
To think well of myself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words, but in great deeds.
To live in faith that the whole world is on my side so long as I am true to the best that is in me.
To live an appreciative life, to recognize my blessings and be grateful for each.
To live each day with grace.

My Cup Runneth Over

What a wonderful day.  What a wonderful weekend.  Spent time with my girls, my grandkids, talked to my son, had friends up today, had snow and rain yesterday followed by the most beautiful sunny day today.

Tomorrow I get the results of the CT scan.  Tomorrow I find out if the spots on my liver are still there or not, if they have grown or not, if there are more spots or not, why my side has hurt for the last three weeks.  I should be anxious, scared.  But I'm not.  Perhaps I have been in denial since May 2008.  The statistics would scare the hell out of anyone and yes, there are many times I let fear enter my mind.  But it is not fear that consumes my thoughts.  Anger is a common emotion. Angry that this insidious disease most likely will take away years of my life that I should have had to spend with my husband, my kids and my grandkids.  It does make me angry.  But being angry is not a good way to live.

It is neither fear nor anger that fills my heart and soul.  I try to fill my heart and soul with love, joy and happiness, even with the worse news and during some of my darkest nights. I cannot help to feel so blessed. The world is a beautiful place.  And for this day, this moment I am here! I try to notice its beauty each and every day.  I am thankful for the small moment of time I get to have on this earth. I feel so blessed to be a mom, a wife, a grandmama, a sister. Tomorrow is unknown, but for today there is sunshine in my soul. My cup runneth over.

Aloha!

I am currently in Maui for a few weeks.  Beni is working and I am just hanging out.  Everywhere I go I hear Aloha.  Of course I know it means "hello" but I hear it constantly and not just as a greeting so I decided to look up the definition of the word.  Here is what I found:

What Does Aloha Mean?
Aloha is the most Hawaiian word. In the Hawaiian language, it can mean hello or goodbye. It also means love and affection. The word aloha is used in a combination with other words, such as aloha kakahiaka, which means good morning; aloha auinala used as a greeting that means good afternoon; and aloha ahiahi is how you can wish good evening in Hawaiian. Because of aloha’s unique meaning and popularity, Hawaii is called the Aloha State.
Aloha is a Hawaiian symbol. Its meaning goes beyond any definition you can find about it in the dictionaries. In Hawaii, you hear aloha all the time and you are treated with aloha everywhere.

The Spirit of Aloha 

The literal meaning of aloha is “the presence of breath” or “the breath of life.” It comes from “Alo,” meaning presence, front and face, and “ha,” meaning breath. Aloha is a way of living and treating each other with love and respect. Its deep meaning starts by teaching ourselves to love our own beings first and afterwards to spread the love to others.

According to the old kahunas (priests), being able to live the Spirit of Aloha was a way of reaching self-perfection and realization for our own body and soul. Aloha is sending and receiving a positive energy. Aloha is living in harmony. When you live the Spirit of Aloha, you create positive feelings and thoughts, which are never gone. They exist in space, multiply and spread over to others.

I love that last part.  Aloha everyone. Aloha!

For Ryan, Krista, Dawnie and Annie

I have been thinking a great deal lately about what message, lessons I would like to leave for my kids.  Oh, there is so much I want to tell them, so much I want them to know, the very least of which is how much they are loved and how very, very proud I am of each of them.  But for today I would like to give them a simple message from one of my favorite songs. It is ironic that it is a song I remember playing every morning when I left the hospital after spending the night with my mom, the week she was hospitalized after her surgery for colon cancer.  It gave me hope.  Now, I listen to it with a different sense of hope.  Hope that my kids will take to heart it's positive message on what I want for each of them. The music is in the video...if the video stops working as sometimes happens just google Rod Stewart Forever Young.  I will make one change to the lyrics below changing "when you finally fly away" to "when I finally fly away."  Love you all.

May the good Lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As you'd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young

May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven
with a prince or a vagabond

And may you never love in vain
and in my heart you will remain
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young
Forever Young

And when I finally fly away
I'll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell

But whatever road you choose
I'm right behind you, win or lose
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young ,Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young
For, Forever Young, Forever Young


So my dear, dear children, be courageous and be brave, and I hope in your hearts I'll always remain:  Forever Young.

"Advanced Stage Ovarian Cancer" I don't want to be in this boat!

I'm in a sinking boat...feels like it's heading for the water fall, sinking fast and no paddle. What the hell! I want to jump out and swim for shore! My doctor in December said (hear is what I heard) "Spread, no cure, non-operable, platinum-resistant, try and maintain quality of life, only chance clinical trial.." So, I signed up for the trial...after 5 weeks of waiting and the day before I was supposed to start, it was canceled. My oncologist in town did another ct scan...it had now spread to liver and lymph nodes. I am now starting on the 3rd chemo regimen, I have had a total of 14 rounds, I have lost my hair, had it start to grow back and then start the process all over.  I am hoping to keep hair this time around, would like to remember what I used to look like!

Stage 4 ovarian cancer is not curable.  I am a realist.  But I am also an optimist.  I can't believe I will lose this fight, even though the statistics say otherwise.  Below are the facts.  I have a challenge, the biggest challenge of my life...for my life.  I will fight this with everything I have.  I still believe I can win, I always think I will win.  At night in the dark, the doubt creeps in.  Thank heaven for the morning when the sun is still in the sky and shining above me.

Stage IV Ovarian Cancer

1. Stage IV (any T, any N, M1) is the most advanced stage of ovarian cancer. In this stage the cancer has spread to the inside of the liver, the lungs or other organs located outside of the peritoneal cavity. The peritoneal cavity, or abdominal cavity is the area enclosed by the peritoneum, a membrane that lines the inner abdomen and covers most of its organs. Finding ovarian cancer cells in the fluid around the lungs (called pleural fluid) is also evidence of stage IV disease.

5-Year Survival Rate

2. Life expectancy rates are determined in cancer by looking at the 5-year survival rate of patients diagnosed with a certain stage of cancer. The type of cancer and the stage determine the survival rates and life expectancy. Five-year survival rates, for ovarian cancers and other cancers, account for factors like unrelated causes of death, when providing the statistics on 5-year survival. Generally, if patients live for the 5 years after diagnosis, mortality rates caused by the cancer fall dramatically.
   
   For stage IV ovarian cancer, the 5-year survival rate is 17.5%.

Life Expectancy

3. According to a study published in the Annals of Internal Medicine, the median life expectancy for patients with late stage ovarian cancer is 2.95 years. The study is based on the projected 5-year survival rates and a mean survival rate of 1.97 years in patients aged 54 who were diagnosed with Stage IV ovarian cancer. Patients diagnosed with Stage I, II or III whose disease progressed to Stage IV had an additional 1 year added on to the median life expectancy because the progression from Stage I to Stage IV was assumed to take, on average, 1 year.

Read more: Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer Life Expectancy | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/about_5200712_stage-ovarian-cancer-life-expectancy.html#ixzz1G4OkFxJi

Happy Thanksgiving

When upon life's billows you are tempest tossed, when you are discouraged thinking all is lost.  Count your many blessings name them one by one....

Thanksgiving dinner is over.  Leftovers put away, all the pots and pans washed and dried. I'm back home, in bed, tired from the busy day, but so happy to be able to have had the opportunity to cook the dinner with my daughter's.  Show them how I do the turkey in a bag.  Explain how to make REALLY good dressing.  Share the secret of my sweet potatoes. Thankful to have had this day. 

In the quiet solitude I wonder if I'll be around next year.  If not, will they remember the lessons today? I start to drift off to the dark place of gloomy cancer thoughts.  And then I shake away the darkness and fill my mind with those blessings I am so thankful for on this day.

Wonderful loving parents. Four beautiful, smart, responsible, loving kids. My grandkid's smiles when they see me.  Laughter.  Footprints in the snow. Cushy and warm socks.  Hugs. Memories of wonderful camping trips spent with family.  Playing guitars with my daughters, cousins, friends...making music.  Tennis, running after the balls and making a winning shot. Molly, my cat. My sisters and brother.  Cloudy days.  Sunny days.  Sledding with my grandson.  Driving with my husband and listening to Garrison or Click and Clack.  Trips to Europe.  Train rides with spectacular views. Pizza. Mexican food. Doctors and nurses who show they care.  Full moons and starry nights. Down pillows. Hot baths. Holding hands with my husband, grandkids or kids. Kisses that get sloppy.  Friends who understand that many days are difficult. Friends who weren't scared away by cancer.  Online friends I have never met. The fresh clean smell after a summer rain.  Finches on the feeder. Flowers, especially wildflowers. Vibrant colors. Hostels. Road trips. The perfection of imperfection in art, nature. Cards. Christmas lights. A husband who is my best friend.

Happy Thanksgiving.  

Doesn't Get Better Than This!

I know there are a ton of blogging mom's commiserating with each other over the trials and tribulations of motherhood, dirty diapers, toys everywhere, laundry that never gets done, etc., etc., etc.  I'm sure it's out there, but I haven't seen much from the Grandma's point of view. I'm now wondering, after reading my kindred spirit of a cousin's blog, about the special moments of Grandma-hood and why I haven't touched more on those many magical moments.  Yes, being a grandma, it's a beautiful and wonderful thing!

I just returned home from a babysitting gig with two of my daughter's three beautiful, bright and bouncing off the wall kids. What a blast to give them dinner (prepared by mom before she left) play games, chase them around the house while they squealed with laughter, easily tricking them into picking up their toys, playing hide and seek, getting them ready for bed and remembering that truly wonderful smell of baby lotion and then at the end of my time with them having them run and give me a big hug and kiss when it was time for 'Grandmama' to leave.   And how much fun it is to leave and hear them crying and screaming that they don't want to go to bed and know I'm not the one who has to deal with it this time around!  Spoiling grandkids must be the reward for raising your own kids into productive, responsible adults.  Grandkids are God's way of saying, "You managed to raise your own kids without too much damage, so now I give you grandkids who will love you unconditionally, who you spoil without worry and who you can turn back over to parents whenever they become too difficult."

Truly, it really doesn't get much better than this! Unfortunately, only grandma's can really understand this whole magical thing of being a grandparent...okay, maybe some grandpa's!

Starting Down the Hill

Today I started round five of chemo.  IV Taxol-day one.  IP Cisplatin-day two.  Hydration and injection-day three and four.  Hydration-day five.  Weekend free unless counts go down and go to ER for hydration. IP Taxol-day 8.  Hydration days-9 & 10.  Nausea, vomiting, neuropathy in feet, and is starting in fingers.  Muscle aches, back pain.  The day and the life of an Ovarian Cancer patient with recurrent OVCA--advanced stage.  This after a successful stage one surgery and 95% cure rate.  It wasn't supposed to come back.  It did. So.  Radical chemo after a controversial second debulking surgery.  I'm bald.  Again.  I'm weak and fatigued.  Again.  My tennis game sucks when I have energy to play.  Again.

But I'm still here, with one more round to go in August.  I do not have a cancer marker to adequately determine if the treatment is working or to indicate if the cancer returns.  I will have to rely on periodical CT scans and symptoms.  Not optimum.  But I'm still here.  I'm over the top of the hill, heading for the finish line with regards to the Chemo treatment.  One that most people can't tolerate the entire treatment.  I know it's my best shot and I'm not going to give up. I'm not going to dwell on those things out of my control.  I'm only going to concentrate on the fact that I'm still here AND I'm not dead yet!

Cancer Sucks....or have I said that already?

The hair is gone, or mostly. I look like a wispy toe-head....an 80 year-old, toe-head. Thought I was making it through this last round of chemo fairly well, and all things considered, I suppose I have. Played tennis on Saturday and won with my partner Janelle! I love running and hitting the ball and feeling almost normal. Normal would be no thoughts of chemo, cancer, wondering if I'll make it through this battle. The nausea is continuing with stomach pain. The ct scan at the Mayo Clinic last week showed my right kidney enlarged. I get so tired at work, want to spend too much time sleeping and then hate that I am wasting precious time sleeping when time truly is so very precious.

I long to feel pretty and sexy for my husband. Yet, bald, skinny and a scarred body is the reflection in the mirror and there isn't anything pretty or sexy about it. I long for the carefree days riding on the back of the motorcycle, holding on tight to my loving guy with more love and joy in my heart than should have ever been legal and foolishly thinking those days would last forever.

I don't like to get into thoughts of fairness or why me, because I inevitably answer, "why not?" There is nothing fair about cancer so I won't waste thoughts on it.

Chemo is the chance to make it all go away and let me live. But it zaps all energy, and for a hyperactive person like myself, that is a killer in and of itself.

I just want to get it done with, again for the second time. Grow my hair back out. Make mad passionate love with my husband and not cringe from my reflection in the mirror.

And then there is the mountain home. The dream house my husband bought me. It gives me hope that one day we will be able to enjoy being mountain hippies and just soak in all the beautiful energy that is there. I know it's not his dream, it is mine, but it's that dream right now that gets me up in the morning putting one foot in front of the other.

Cancer sucks, chemo is tough, but this chick isn't about to give up the fight anytime soon.  

Round F***ing Two

RFT. Thanks to my dear friend V-grrrl for coming up with this most appropriate name for my current battle with Ovarian Cancer. After recovering from three surgeries over the past few months to remove all evidence of the disease, this past Tuesday the fight begins again with the first round of chemo (or 7th if you count the 6 cycles from 2008). The cancer killer duo of Taxol/Carboplatin was given via an IV port that has been surgically implanted in my upper chest with a direct line to a vein. This makes it much more easier to get the chemo and the weekly blood draws as my veins are virtually invisible from the last round of chemo. Being poked and prodded in the attempts to locate a vein for an IV or to draw blood was becoming a real pain in the behind as well as the arm! Today is day three and am feeling a little achy, fluish, but that may be from the shot of Neulasta that was given yesterday to help encourage white cell growth, but also does something (?) to the bone marrow, thus the achies.

This has obviously been a difficult journey, certainly anyone that is told they have any type of cancer in the advanced stages knows they are in for some difficulties, but additionally, I dropped my GYN/Oncologist who I really trusted from my initial bout, decided to go to the Mayo Clinic, and willingly do a pretty controversial and evasive 2nd debulking surgery (during which another tumor was found!) and do a chemo regimen that usually is only done during the initial discovery of Ovarian Cancer.

Additionally, I decided to go with an oncologist here in town, that my gut told me to go with. I feel my gut was correct as he continues to add various supplements to my pharmaceutical regimen to help boost cell rejuvenation. Again, controversial, but I have found many clinical trials that show this to improve outcomes. To me, it makes sense to help my own bodies defenses in attacking this disease and kicking it's ass as far away from me as humanly possible!

And so, today I have spent most of it in bed, most not all. I will always try my best to walk out to my beautiful little patio garden, water the roses and all the other plants, say "hi" to the finches and sit for a while, see that the sky is still blue and the sun is shining above me and thank God for it all.

The Monster is Back

I thought I was on the road to recovery from my battle with Ovarian Cancer a silent killer among cancers. I was going to be the "lucky" one. This past December found me in the hospital for almost a month and three surgeries. They originally thought the pain was my Gall Bladder...SWOOSH...take it out! Symptoms didn't stop. Then surmised it must be an intestinal blockage...but nothing showed up on the scans. After several more weeks of pain they went in and yes, there was a blockage. But, there was also more cancer. SWOOSH! Out with more parts.

They thought they got it all. I decided to go to the Mayo Clinic for a 2nd opinion on what chemo regimen to begin. Instead a recent PET scan showed more hot spots....cancer. More surgery, very invasive, but the doctors seem optimistic.

After several weeks in Arizona, I am now home, trying to cope with this news. Look up recurrent ovarian cancer and you will understand the emotional and mental toll this is taking. I will go back to Mayo in April, get the stent out of my kidney/bladder and will talk with the oncologist about the chemo plan.

Originally, we were going to do IP...right in the abdomen. The surgery dictates that now we will do some of the cycles by IV until I am healed well enough inside to handle the IP. It's scary shit. I'm trying to stay positive and be in that 5% that makes it. It's just not easy, even for a Pollyanna girl like me.

David's Ivy

Well after spending almost 4 weeks in the hospital, including Christmas and New Years, I am loving being home. Though I am still spending most of my time resting in bed, I have been able to sit and look out the window, watch the finches on their feeder and just enjoy the beauty of my small zen garden.

I think of my old house on a half acre with beautiful flower beds and lots of roses and miss being able to cut roses to have in the house pretty much whenever I wanted. I remember moving into the apartment shortly after my divorce and how hard it was not being able to work in my yard. I bought over 50 plants for my little balcony. I tended the plants and watched them thrive. I had a purpose once again. Mother's need to tend, they need to see what they tend grow and flourish. I felt whole.

Then when we found our first house together, Beni and I, I remember looking at the backyard and saying I wanted this house. I really didn't care what the inside was like, it had a big yard. Plenty of planting room. I brought all the plants from the apartment and gave them a permanent place. Except for the big momma aloe vera that came from my old house. I planted her babies, but kept the mama in her pot...just in case.

Then my daughter and her son needed a place and we sold them our house and we decided to move into the townhouse. Preston after all, needed a yard to play in, more than I needed a yard to plant and tend.

And so, here I am in the one story townhouse, that we have remodeled hacienda style with lots of color and Diego Rivera type paintings. But there is only a small courtyard in the front and a small patio in the back. Every inch of dirt is occupied with some plant or other. Additional pots abound with more plants. And I dream of having a yard with rose gardens and vegetable gardens, in the mountains where lilac bushes would grow and maybe even hydrangeas.

When we first moved in, I wondered how I would like the closeness of the neighbors. I really liked my house on the 1/2 acre so this connectedness was going to be different and I wasn't sure how I would like it. Jane and David lived next door...connected to our bedroom side. David was ill and Jane took care of him and her ailing mother. Jane. Jane had a wit and a brilliant mind. She made me laugh. She cooked wonderful things and brought them over to share. She was older, but she became my best friend.

Jane had an atrium in her unit. She had these wonderful plants. Boston ferns that were huge. Tremendous ferns that had overgrown their big pots but just too big to plant in anything else. She one day decides to cut them in two with a butcher knife and wanted my help. I wasn't so sure. It looked like a death sentence to me. Jane was determined and so we did it. We took that big knife and sliced and sawed those ferns into two rather large plants. And I ended up with half of the bounty! I still have my fern...it's outside in the courtyard now. HUGE! We laughed at what we had done, but thought it quite marvelous when we had finished.


Another lovely plant was a beautiful variegated ivy. Jane called it David's ivy. It was a little ivy plant he had during one of his stays in the hospital. It had long since thrived in the atrium into an adult plant. I always commented on it and one day Jane brings me 3 starts of David's ivy. I planted each start in a different location to make sure at least one of them would take.

At first they looked like they would all do well, but after time only one remained. I became more careful in tending this, because during the months following the planting of David's ivy, David had died, Jane's mother had died and Jane was forced to move out. I kept thinking something would happen and the landlord would let her stay, but if didn't happen, Jane moved out. No more calls to meet at the pony wall for pie or homemade macaroni and cheese. No more calls that she was armed with a butcher knife and going to separate a fern. David's ivy was all that remained.

Now I sit in a chair out on the back patio and watch the pretty yellow finches. I see the rock I painted with tulips for Jane when she decided she wasn't going to buy any more flowers for her patio only to watch them die. And I see David's ivy, growing strong and healthy. Slowly finding it's way up the trellis. Reminding me to be patient, to take it slow, to take care of myself, to remember what is important and what isn't. To remember friends that made me laugh and gave me gifts that will stay in my heart forever. I miss you Jane, but David's ivy is here and growing stronger each day, showing me that life goes on. And I am trying to do the same.

Poor Tiger, no CHEETAH!

Oh so poor, poor Tiger Woods going into hiding. Can't take the heat from the press! Poor boy. Or how about the bimbo who says she got nothing out of the relationship, not even a birthday card. Don't you just hurt for her? NOT! Yep, I think Tiger needs to change his name to a new cat...Cheetah Woods!

Through the Storm and others

Added to what I did the other day and then did a couple more. Getting better...I think.
And no brushes to clean! :)

Second Try at Painting in Photoshop

Okay, I am supposed to be working on a presentation for a national conference at our college...I'm doing Conflict Management....piece of cake right. Well, I usually do a 2 hour workshop to full day work shops on this subject. This one I get 45 minutes, and I figure after the time it takes for those attending to sign-in and sit down it will be more like 35 minutes. My stumping point is what to leave out! So what am I doing instead of figuring out that dilemma? Doing more computer painting! It's pretty fun and I am finding it a fun way to do first drafts of what I may later paint on canvas. Just not too helpful in determining the content of my presentation!

Computer Painting

Here is my first attempt at Computer Painting. I've been wanting to come up with something dealing with the theme of Ovarian Cancer's "Break the Silence." My original idea was the woman releasing a bird with the teal ribbon representing ovarian cancer flying away...to spread the word. However, I had a very difficult time with the details of the bird and settled for the ballon on this first attempt. Later, I will do the painting in acrylics or watercolor. Realizing I really need the pad and pen thingy that you can use instead of the mouse on my laptop...difficult for fine detail stuff.

My European Vacation

I have been wondering the last few days if there is a difference between traveling for pleasure and a vacation. Vacation to me has been camping in Oregon, cooking over an open fire in dutch ovens, flying my kites on the beach, crabbing, or just doing nothing and vegging out. My husband on the other hand loves to travel to places he hasn't been before and hates going to the same place more than once or twice. And more so, doesn't particularly like camping.

I, too, love to travel, but to me traveling is stressful. Making all the travel reservations, hotel reservations, planning the various itineraries in the various towns/countries. I had spent a great deal of time, researching, planning, making a myriad of reservations for planes, trains, tours, hotels, boat rides, etc. When the night finally came before we left on our trip, I still didn't have my suitcase packed and was exhausted and we hadn't even made it out the door. By the time we finally made it to the airport I was more than ready for a vacation.

Our travels took us to Amsterdam with windmills, Anne Frank and Van Gogh. And yes, Coffee houses and the red-light district! Then on to Meppen, Germany to visit with our great friends Holger and Sabine who we met in Vegas many years ago playing tennis. We stayed with them in their new home and what wonderful hosts they were and what a very beautiful town.

From Meppen we went on to Heidelberg. I think I could have stayed in Heidelberg (or Meppen) forever! Both just beautiful. We walked the Philosopher's walk in Heidelberg, visited castles, took long bike rides and long walks, drank champagne in the forest and walked the cobbelstone streets adoring the old buildings and marveling at the history that was encapsulated all in one place.

From Heidelberg we took the bullet train to Paris reaching speeds of almost 200 mph! Paris with the Eiffel tower, Louvre, Notre Dame, Cathedrals, monuments, holding hands and walking along the Seine and again all those wonderfully old buildings with a history that is hard to comprehend for someone from a town barely 100 years old.

We had a wonderful time, a beautiful trip, adventuresome travels and a great vacation.....or a wonderful time traveling whether it was a trip or a vacation....it was all good!


I will try and get some pictures up on my Facebook page and those interested can check them out there.

Curly Locks

You've seen my long locks, my bald head and now my 6 months of growth after chemo. I truly expected I would have a cute blond bob by now. With convincing from my oldest daughter I dyed it ash brown. Curly is a whole new experience for someone who has had stick straight hair. No complaints, but can't wait until I can have my long blond locks back and pull it all back into a pony tail! I figure at this rate of growth I may be well into my 60's! I am joined here with my very cute younger sister at her son's wedding a few weeks ago.