Gray Skies and Happy Memories

It's been a long, hot summer. It's been a long hot summer where one of us was diagnosed with cancer, one of us had a revision of a hip replacement (complete with replacement parts!), one of us suffered through weeks and weeks of radiation with the agony of major burns, one of us got a concussion (while dancing!) and one of us had, yes, a seizure. Does that sound like at least 5 people? Hmmm. I had cancer and radiation, Brit had replacement parts installed and a seizure, and Lydia, bless her heart, received a very mild concussion after dancing into a rail while leaving the stage at theater camp.

As of today, though, we're all good. And that's what I wanted to tell you about. I want to write about good. What goes into good, what it looks like, how it feels.

The weather today was bad. In a way that feels good. It was rainy, we lost power twice, and the skies were oh so gray. Sometime during the second power outage, when causing Thomas the Tank crashes became more noisy than fun, and the house started to heat up from lack of A/C, we decided it was time for an adventure.

Today's adventure was nice. And someday, I might write about it. It was really just driving out to Spicewood to try a new restaurant. But the gray skies, and the rain that stopped every time we needed it to, and the realization that good times are really just about good company (and temps in the 70's and 80's) - it all reminded me of another adventure, this past Spring.

The day before Easter we were fortunate enough to be invited to Case Avocado. This is the lovely ranch property of our friends Lindsay and Oliver - land that's been in Oliver's family for over a hundred years.

The ranch is out in Llano. The trip itself is spectacular - a dirt road past cactus, cattle and scrub, with plenty of twists and turns, that ends at an AMAZING stone barn, with two beautiful old ranch houses near by - houses that Oliver's relatives still occupy, and have since they were built more than a century ago. The road from there is intraversable in anything less than a Suburban with longhorns attached to the hood. Thankfully, Oliver was making regular shuttle runs, and picked us up and drove us, in the rain, to Casa Avocado. We climbed out of the Red Dawg, and the rain stopped. The rest of the day saw very brief, intermittent showers, with long patches of mottled gray skies and cool temperatures in between.

Kids played. Hot dogs were roasted and eaten.

Cascarones were, of course, dispatched.

Wine, beer and wonderful stories flowed freely.

It was one of those days that you hoped grown up life will be like, when you're you were thinking about being a grown-up someday. It was one of those days that as a parent, you want to string together to build a lifetime of memories for your kids. It was, indeed, idyllic.

Our hosts were gracious. The company was fantastic. Most of the women there were part of the "Temperance Society" that keeps me sane these days, and it was a pleasure to get together with kids and husbands and see, that indeed, they all like each other as much as we do.

I finally got to know my friend Marla's husband, and share with him the fact that our mothers are old friends.

The kids played. They played hard. There were naked boys in the creek, and the shrieks of appalled young ladies/older sisters that make nudity especially satisfying, when you're the little brother. It was a gorgeous day. Did I mention that? Cool, and just a little damp - perfect for sitting around a fire telling stories, with the noise of barely attended children in the background.

Barely attended? Okay, not really. But they were that amazing low maintenance that lovingly raised children become when they find they genuinely enjoy each other's company. That was one of the best parts. Our kids were all playing together about 20 feet from us. But they didn't need us. They had the "wilderness"and each other. You remember what that's like, right? Your just 3, or 5, or 7, or 9 and you're surrounded by other kids and trees and rocks and it's kid-land. But someone with access to juice boxes is just a few steps away. And for the grown-ups? Uninterrupted talk, with the knowledge that any legitimate cry for help, or even just a few moments of attention for a really good trick, will be immediately responded to, and then the grown-up time returns, nearly seamlessly.

Man, we all slept good that night.

Thanks Lindsay and Oliver. You and your kids sure know how to show folks a good time.

Besos,

Emily

Anatomy of a Panic Attack

Brit and Lydia are home today. Brit is recovering from hip surgery. Lydia is 9. I'm at work.

Cell phone rings. Caller ID says, "Home". I answer.
Hello?
Static.......
Hello?!?
Static....
Signal fades. Call lost.

I call our home number.
Phone rings once. Static. Big static. Scary static. "The Ring" quality static.
I hang up and call back, to our home number.
More static.
Oh no! What's happened! I hope the neighbors are calling 911!

I breathe, and call Brit's cell. It rings like 10 times.
I call the home number again. 1 ring, then static.

I'll leave. I'll drive home. I should go right now. What could be happening?
But first, I should check a couple things.

I go online and make sure I paid the phone/cable/internet bill. Maybe Lydia was just calling to say the TV stopped working? Maybe that's why the phone isn't working? I paid the bill.

I call Brit's cell phone. Thank the lord, Lydia answers on the 3rd ring.

Me: Sweetie? What's wrong? Is everything okay?
Lydia: Um, Mommy?
Me: Yes? Oh honey, what's wrong?
At this point I'm prepared for the worst. The electricity is out. The dog's been shot. Or, oh lord please no, she can't wake up Brit.
Lydia: Well..... I can't get the can opener to work.
And there's me, suddenly cracking up at my desk.

Seriously? It takes one staticy phone and I'm all worked up over a complicted can opener.
Stress and my imagination are a bad combination.
She's making a bean and cheese, but she can't get to the beans.
Me: Oh. Well, what's wrong with the phone?
Lydia: Daddy thinks it's out of batteries.
So, I told her how to work the can opener, and asked her to make sure all the phones were in their chargers.
Crisis over.
Now when's lunch?

Fathers Day!

What? Father's day was well over a month ago?
Be that as it may, we had a really great day. And it's worth sharing.


We met our friends in Elgin for a delicious Mexican breakfast, and sweet, sweet Nutty gave the Fluff this withering look:


She's from Brooklyn, y'all. This is how we know she likes him.

The two of them are too much - they're definitely on the same wavelength, and it's hillarious.

'Brito was the perfect bandit, and charmed us all senseless while we waited for our food. Nutty thought it was hillarious that I kept calling it breakfast. We met just before 11:00 on a Saturday. Lunch for the non-farmers who rise with dawn. Breakfast for those of us just beginning our weekend adventure. Delicious, and a really good time, for all.

After our visit with the country mice from the Big City, we headed out to this place. If you haven't been, I highly recommend it. I also recommend waiting until October or later. It was HOT. But, in early summer, they do have some adorable young'uns. And what's cuter than a miniature miniature? Exactly! After visiting the tiny little horses in Brenhan, and asking the nuns there to pray for our immortal souls (actually, I'm pretty sure the ancient nun who was stunned out of her meditative prayer by Guthrie running up in the chapel and yelling "HI!" starting praying for his little soul without any additional prompting) we headed to Fayetteville. What's in Fayetteville? Durn near nuthin'. We stayed in a tiny little white cottage right on the main square and listened to the trains. It was quiet and peaceful and close to the best pie in Texas, and the reason for our trip. Yep, the whole weekend is Washington county was built around the need to have pie here. If you've never been, I highly recommend it as a day trip. Short drive, and a great meal.

Sunday morning we ate at a little cafe right on the square in Fayetteville. The place was mentioned as one of the best small town cafe's in TX, in a Texas Monthly article recently, but the charm eluded me. Of course, they were out of what I wanted, and I ended up with a big ol' plate of bagged ice-berg lettuce. Brit ended up with fried catfish, and homemade father's day cards.

Good weekend. Cute family. And a handful of small towns in central TX that we can say we roamed around.

I'm Cured!

I really need to tell you something. On July 7th (the day after Brit's birthday) I had a lumpectomy and my surgeon successfully removed my cancer. I'm now cancer free. Woo Hoo!
I still have to go through 8 1/2 weeks of radiation (which clearly isn't as sexy as 9 1/2 weeks) which will help prevent a recurrence. But, I'm cancer free and plan to stay that way. I'll be really watching my nutrition before, during and after radiation. My plan is something like this: Ice, Dark Chocolate, Wheatgrass, MSM. That's a good plan, right?
I hate this.
I hate this.
I'm scared.
I hate this.
I am so grateful that we caught it so early and it was so easy to just cut out.
Keep your fingers crossed for the next 40 years....
Besos.
Emily

Ugh

If you are checking in to see what glorious, sun-shiney, positive thing I have to say, you should probably close your browser and come back after another post. I'm in no mood.

(Here are some things I will post about soon:

1. Our really fabulous Father's Day Weekend adventure!

2. 4th of July at Moss Lake

3. Lydia's summer of fun with Rachel

4. Poppy's 90th Birthday

5. Our mostly funny dogs

6. My beautiful children swimming

See! There is so much good in our lives! Yes, I know. But that's not what this self-indulgent post is about. Just hush.)

And now, on to the angry rant. (With some good news - don't lose the good news - I'm just not in the mood to focus on the good part tonight. So there.)

I had my lumpectomy. My margins are clear - meaning that the cancer was contained within the tissue removed. BUT, my margins are also less than 1 mm, which is quite literally cutting it very, very close. My oncologist would like me to consider additional tissue removal - more surgery. And I definitely need radiation for 8 1/2 weeks, and I hate the idea of toxic therapy, but I hate the idea of recurrance more. And the name of the game, now that the cancer is gone, is preventing recurrance. Blech.
I liked it better when I thought this would be very easy. Silly me. (But I'm totally going to be fine. So please don't worry. It's still very good that we caught it so early, and it was non-invasive, and they did get it all out.)

Brit is going in for hip surgery tomorrow. His prothesis has bothered him since his hip replacement, so he changed doctors. We found a doctor who showed us the x-rays of the hip and it was immediately clear that the alignment was less than ideal. So tomorrow Brit will have the prothesis realligned. We've very hopeful that this will mean much less pain in the long run, but the next several weeks will suck. It will be 6 weeks before he can return to work. Plus physical therapy. And of course, he won't be able to drive. So I hope we can find a physical therapist in the same medical complex as my radiologist. Seriously. Oh, and if I do need more surgery in the next few weeks, I may be calling you for a ride.

So tonight I am scared. I am scared for my sweet husband who HATES hip surgery, and I am sad for him that he knows he hates hip surgery. We are lucky, you and I, that we don't know how we feel about hip surgery. Brit is not lucky is that same way. He is lucky in other ways, but not in the having had no experience with having a hip or two or three replaced way.

And I am scared for the next several days while Brit is in the hospital. I would like to be with him, but I am just missed two weeks of work for my family vacation and my own darn surgery. And, I need to save up my time off and working from home for myself, for a change. And it's kind of a bad change, frankly. I mostly just like good change, you know? I think Brit's hip surgery will bring good change. But I think Brit will be lonely in the hospital. But he's a grown-up and he knows that I will be taking care of the kids and the dogs and the house, etc., etc. And you'll go visit him at St. David's, right?

Because if you're wondering how you can help, here is a list:

1. Please go visit Brit in the hospital.

2. Please offer to watch our kids while I visit Brit late at night in the hospital.

3. Please encourage other friends of ours to visit Brit.

Because, I love Brit and I feel guilty that I can't stay with him in the hospital like I did when we didn't have kids, and like Lydia and I did when Lydia was just a baby. (But also, it sucks that we have so many examples of this, right?) And I know I shouldn't feel guilty, but I do so shut up.

Here are other things that I think totally suck:

My dog Lucy is losing the use of her hips. She's very old. I can't get the song, "You Picked a Fine Time to Leave Me Lucille" out of my head. It sounds funny, I know, but I can't say that without crying. I don't think your dog should be allowed to become old and infirm when you're diagnosed with cancer. I think the universe needs to get its head out of its ass, frankly.

And I would like it to be cooler, too, while I'm complaining. It is way too hot for early July. So there.

I am not drunk. I have not had anything to drink all weekend, in fact. I mention this for two reasons. I think it may well be something I'm pissed off about. And also, I don't want you to think this is a drunken rage. I'm just venting. And even, a little bit, cracking wise. I'm sitting here cracking myself up and crying both. Yes, like a crazy person. That shouldn't be a surprise to anyone.

I will probably be as embarrassed as hell that I posted this. But, this is how I feel, and I did say I'd use the blog to keep you all posted.

If you are reading this, it is a given that you love us. And we love you. God bless us all.

And fuck this crazy summer.

Love,

Emily

A June Wedding!

Brit's outrageously gorgeous sister got married on June 6th. Here she is with her husband Todd and her step-son, Kross. Kross is a bit more than a year older than Guthrie, and Guthrie talks about him constantly. They're a gorgeous family.

Lydia and Guthrie were in the wedding, as the procession, along with Kross, and Todd's nephew, Nate.

Guthrie made sure to kiss the bride. Several times.

Guthrie and Nate spent the entire afternoon playing together. So, not only did we get this great guy Todd in our family, and his amazing son Kross, but Todd is sharing his brother and sister in law, and their two kids with us, too! I love adding as many cousins as we can muster into the mix.

Oh, and I saw a peahen with two peaCHICKS on the grounds where they held the services. Baby peacocks - so cool!

When there's no good way to say it.....

Hi Friends. We're having a really good summer. Lydia finished school just this past Thursday, and we've already been kayaking on Lady Bird Lake and swimming in Barton Springs. Guthrie continues to crack me up. Oh, and two weeks ago, I found out I have Ductal Carcinoma in Situ. Breast Cancer. So here's the deal. I'm in Stage ZERO. I went in for my very first mammogram - my baseline - and they found some calcification in my left breast. (*chortle*- now I"m blogging about my BOOBS. Finally!).

So, my prognosis is beyond excellent. I'll have a lumpectomy (or as my doctor calls it - breast conservation surgery - so green sounding!) followed by several weeks of daily radiation treatments. In the meantime I'm avoiding animal fats and sugar (um, except dark chocolate, of course). I'm also swimming, kayaking, walking, and drinking lots of very fresh juice. My goal is to have the biopsy from the lumpectomy be cancer free, in which case, I might just try and talk my way out of the radiation.

In a nutshell: I am UNBELIEVABLY lucky, and I have the most mild case of cancer imaginable. And by the end of the summer, it will be completely over.

Weird, huh? Plus, now that I'm suddenly so health conscious I'm in the strange position of being healthier because I have a wee little bit o' the cancer. Ironic, right?

The awkward part? Wanting people to know, but not really wanting to tell anyone. So feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

The other really awkward part? Feeling so damn lucky. Early detection, non-invasive, relatively easy, standard, proven treatment. I have a handful of good friends who are really duking it out with this disease right now, where as I'm involved in some kind of thumb-wrestling match. I thank God every day. For my luck, and for the continued health and improvement for my friends.

So there you have it. Now it's out there. My boobs, always so cooperative and dare I say out-going and fun, have suddenly rebelled against me. And so soon after I finally invested in a really good Victoria's Secret collection of bras! C'est la vie. It was time I started caring more about a supportive sports bra anyway.

Besos!

Emily

Birthdays

I'm very behind in my blog, obviously. And today is Lydia's birthday, so you think I would write about that. You would think, right? And certainly Lydia is very much on my mind, as always, but I covered that pretty well, here. What I have been just dying to write about, what I have really wanted to share with you, is a fantastic trip we took in February, for my father-in-law's birthday.

My father-in-law is an amazing man. And very much a man's man, without being a macho stereotype. He played football for OU. He joined the Navy. He was a fighter pilot. He married his stewardess girlfriend, became a father, and now he is a lawyer. And an amazing grandfather.

Trips with my in-laws have always been unabashedly about the grandchildren. We've spent a weekend in Galveston and Kemah for Lydia's birthday. We spent Thanksgiving in Destin, with the kids on the beach. My in-laws are the most generous people I've ever know, and they love spoiling my sweet kids, and I get to ride shot gun. And Buddy? He picks up the tab. I've watched that poor man spend more money on ride tickets in 30 minutes than I used to make in a month. And the whole time, he's smiling and getting in line for the next ride.

Well, this year at Thanksgiving Brit happened to ask his dad, "So what ship were you stationed on anyway?" And Buddy told him. The USS Lexington.

It took a couple months, but Brit looked the ship up. It's stationed in Corpus Christie. It's been decommissioned and is a museum. It's amazing. This was a little more than a week before Buddy's birthday, and a plan was quickly hatched. Hotel reservations were made. And Buddy and Susan (Brit's parents) met us in Corpus Christie for what proved to be one of the most enjoyable weekends in recent memory.

We stayed right on the beach. We ate seafood at every meal. (I even had crab cake benedict for breakfast). We saw jelly fish on the beach, and I even snuck in a little run in the morning, by the ocean, alone.

Of course, the very best part was the ship itself. Buddy earned his pilot's wings on this ship, and he clearly loved showing us around. Guides recognized the mark of the Navy Man about him, and said so.

When Lydia was asked about her favorite part of the trip, she said it was "wearing Grump's wings." Guthrie got a flight jacket. Brit got to know his father better.

We all got quite a work out on all those damn stairs. (Buddy and I took turns carrying Guthrie up and down all those narrow ladders....)

We saw where the officers and enlisted men slept, got their hair cut, their teeth fixed, and ate meals. We learned about the history of the "Lex" and the brave members of the US Navy who served her. The Lex made her name in WWII, as "The Blue Ghost" because every time the Japanese were sure they'd sunk her, she'd show up again, guns blazing.

It was an awesome, living lesson in history, touring the ship, and viewing the planes on the flight deck.

Right. The planes.

That was by far the best part. Standing on the flight deck with Buddy, talking about which types of planes he'd flown, and the sheer insanity of taking off and landing on that speck of a deck in the wide, wide ocean.

There was a great cartoon painting of the mechanics of taking off and landing, in one of the lower decks.

The very best part? For once, it was all about Buddy. It was his trip. His story. His ride. And it was amazing.

Happy Birthday Jackson Pollock

Brit and I have a pretty good thing going on. We get each other. And, we both really like checking out art. In fact, we have a lot of overlapping likes in the area of contemporary art. Of course, we have our differences too, but how boring would it be otherwise?
One of our shared favorites is Jackson Pollock. Thanks to the cool way Google customizes their headers for special occasions, I happened to realize that Jackson Pollock's birthday was this past week.
We've been dragging Lydia to art museums for years, so she's familiar with this particular artist. In fact, one of the things I like about him is that his style is really accessible to young artists. I suspect that's one of the things Lydia digs about him. So, we decided to celebrate his birthday in style, with our own custom creation.
In honor of one of our families favorite artists, we made this brownie, and splattered it with various types of chocolate. (The yellow is just white chocolate with food coloring).
I'm very pleased with our wacky dessert. And to cap off our celebration, we read "Action Jackson". It's been a good night!
To make this crazy brownie cake, we just mixed up our favorite batch of brownies, and baked them in an 11x17 pan. While they were baking, we melted white chocolate, mild chocolate, and 60% dark chocolate. We divided the white in half, and added yellow food coloring to half of it. When the brownies were out of the oven, we used spoons to splatter the various shades of chocolate all over the cake. Mmmm. Edible art. Happy Birthday Jack!