Wild Rose Reverie

After residency I had to change my email address. Blogger didn't easily allow me to switch this blog to my gmail account, so I've decided to change blogs. I'm hoping this new blog will give a fresh start and I'll be more committed to writing more often. Now that I have internet access at home, there is no reason not to write. I'm always thinking that such and such topic or event would be good to write about, but I hardly ever do so ... If you'd like to see the new blog, the address is http://wildrosereverie.blogspot.com/. As you can see, it is still about flowers and still about smells. :-)

Waiting for Netflix

So I have a confession. I have been a staunch anti-TV person for years. Now that I am living with Miguel, we are getting Netflix movies along with the possibility of television shows on DVD. For the past few weeks, this has included the 3rd season of Lost. And am I anything but addicted to this show now. We have 3 episodes left of season 3 and since the 4th season doesn't come out on DVD until December, I think we are going to watch the first 2 seasons since I have yet to watch them. The redeeming quality of watching TV on DVD is the lack of commercials. If you have ever watched TV with me you will quickly find my lack of any semblance of patience with commercials and the other inane things that comes up.

End of confession.

Rose Theater

Despite all of my trips to Port Townsend over the years, I have yet to view a film there ... before last night. Miguel and I had a full day in PT, going to the farmer's market, the weekend art show, the Wooden Boat Festival, part of a horrid WSU game in a bar (they lost 60-some to 3), dinner at a Japanese restaurant and then to see Tell No One at a tiny, independent theater called the Rose Theater. What a great film. It has been termed a psychosexual thriller, murdery mystery. The following Ebert review is quite good. The film was released in Belgium in 2006 but was released in the states this summer. At times it feels like it makes no sense but all of the loose ends come together at the end. It is a great film to see if you feel like puzzling the plot through a bit. We'll back for more films since Port Angeles is decidedly lacking in anything independent.

5 weeks in

So, I've been a "real" pediatrican for a little over a month now. I was unsure prior to starting whether I had made the right choice or not. I guess there is now way of knowing for sure, but I'm happy here. I like the clinic, the nurses, and my fellow practitioners. Oh, and I like only working 4 days a week. Miguel points out that the "4 days a week thing" is deceptive since I'm taking call at least 1 day/night a week and 1 weekend a month. But hey, it is so much better than residency. It involves different stressors, but I'm happy to be working for real. There are good an d bad things about living in small town too, like going into Safeway and seeing 2 patients. That certainly didn't happen much in Portland.

I had today off and spent it primarily outside. I walked/ran a trail just at the entrance of Olympic National park. My initial intention was to go on a run but the trail was too darn steep for that to be feasible. So, I walked up and ran down. My legs are a little shaky now. And this afternoon I went to a u-pick farm in Sequim and picked blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries. Dinner tonight consisted of almost all local food: steamed spinach, steamed fava beans, boiled new potatoes, a few radish slices, and 2 different pestos - basil/tomato/kalamata olive and parsley/lemon/garlic. And dessert was non-dairy vanilla ice cream with fresh berries. Great meal. Unfortunately I didn't think to take a picture until after dinner was over.

Anyone want to come visit after the boards are over at the end of October?

Frog light

A trip to Seattle this past week for time with Miguel's family and a Mariner's game (zzzz ....) also led to a stop by REI. You have to hand it to them for product placement ... lots of fun stuff on the wall as you are waiting in the check-out line. I have been on the search for a key-chain sized creature that is not cloth and would be engaging for young children. Kids are always needing some sort of distraction in the office either when I am listening to their chest or needing them to look a particular direction, or stop crying. So, in that REI line were these carabiner animals that have a light and make sound. Perfect. I picked out this frog who's mouth lights up and makes noise when you push the switch on its back. Miguel's take was that it was going to scare the kids not make them calm down. I have used it with several kids today and it hasn't made any of them cry and all have wanted to try it for themselves.

already a cold?

So, I've been working the children's clinic up here for exactly 4 days and have already come down with the "crud" (another pediatrician's description, not mine). Thank God I had Friday off (it certainly ain't residency - what, have a 3 day weekend??) or else I probably would have had to call in sick.

Mom came up a few days ago to drop off Harper. He's been staying with her for the last 2 months as I've been galavanting around the country. For the past 2 days, he's been mostly under the covers in bed. The safe spot in the apartment. However the time he has been up was when I was trying to sleep. Who originally though keeping nocturnal animals was a good idea? Anyhow, he loves movie time. He isn't so keen on watching the screen but certainly likes to snuggle on the couch. Perhaps he'll sleep a little longer tonight since he's at least been up a few times today. As opposed to last night when it felt like he was constantly trying to wake me up and get my attention for some reason.

Miguel is finally getting his stuff moved up here. The only downside is that yet, again I'll have bruises on my forearms from carrying in box after box after box. If we move into a house anytime soon (and still remember the pain of moving ourselves), we'll be hiring a moving company. Who knows when we'll find a house to our liking. Check out this website and type in the following MLS number 231014 to see the house we are currently drooling over. It isn't out in the woods with a view of the moutains, but it looks like a pretty cool house in town.

prolonged absence

So much to say with no idea where to start since I haven't written since the beginning of June ... I guess a brief accounting of my activities over the last several weeks.

- Finished residency (amazing to have the whole education thing behind me - now on to life-long self-directed learning)
- On the last day of residency picked up u-haul and loaded up my cottage (well, the stuff in the cottage)
- Moved stuff to Port Angeles (PA)
- Stayed in PA for 2 days
- Back to Longview spending time with Miguel and Mom (sometimes together, egad!)
- Up to Seattle to briefly see my aunt, uncle, cousin, grandfather; went kayaking with a friend from med school
- Flew to Baltimore with 2 friends from college for another college friend's wedding (great reunion after 3 years)
- 2 days in DC seeing the voluminous amounts of historical sights (Miguel and I will be going back)
- Flew back to Seattle
- Back to Longview for a few days
- Then back up to Seattle for a few days with Miguel's family and to a Mariner's game
- To Ashland to catch a few plays (Midsummer's night and The Clay Cart) and time in a B&B
- On to Northern California (with a hastily eaten bag of cherries so they wouldn't be taken by the "produce police" at the border) and 3 nights camping in Smith River National Recreation Area
- Trip to the Tall Trees Trail (yes, real name), where surprisingly enough, there were tall trees
- Stop to see my sister who is still in Coquille, OR living and working on a permaculture farm
- Then on to a stay at the Village Green Resort in Cottage Grove, OR, which was full of full of great surprises - nice room with a king size bed (wonderful after camping for 3 nights), very nice dinner for $20, 14 acres of gardens, short swim in a cold-ish pool followed by a hot tub ...
- To Portland and the Brew Fest (I didn't last here long but went to Powells instead while Miguel and his friend spent 3 hours tasting beers; I had a few sips while I was there)
- Back to Longview for 2 nights
- To Seattle for a get together with my dad's side of the family since his brother was in town from Florida and my grandfather is dying from a frontal lobe glioma. He was given several months left to live back in March and has been living in my aunt and uncle's basement since then. Prognoses are notoreously inaccurate and I think he will live longer than predicted. My aunt has been sleeping by his bed in the basement since he came home from the hospital in March. Not an option that is sustainable for the long term ...
- And, finally, back to PA. I start work next Mondy the 4th.

As Yola pointed out, this was not a month in which I skimped on gas. I keep hearing about how people are decreasing their fuel consumption because of gas prices ... I'm sure I've made up for several people not driving as much.

Hopefully I'll be able to write a little more frequently now that I'm not traveling and am not a resident. However, Miguel and I still have to figure out internet access at home. Currently I'm writing from the library about a block down from our apartment.

Bittersweet

... the feeling as my residency comes to a close. As many people know, I am a counter, especially of time. Such as in, how much time is left of a a particular activity. Nearly since the beginning of residency I've been acutely aware of how much is left. It's not that I don't cherish the notion of carpe diem, but having been in some form of schooling for so long (egad! 24 years), I'm ready to be done and move onto the next phase of life. Pediatric residency is 3 years long, and as of today, I have 21 days left. I say that it is a bittersweet end because I didn't realize how much I'd miss my fellow residents. Each class has 13 (we are down to 12 because one defected to neurology at the beginning of the year), making 39 in the entire residency. This is a moderate sized peds residency and allows us to know each other quite well. As compared to the UW program that has about 27 per class. They have been like a surrogate family these past 3 years, and I will certainly miss them. We have our end-of-the-year/graduation banquet this coming Friday. Our program director is also stepping down, and his last day is also on Friday. So many endings before the new beginning of moving to Port Angeles.



On a related topic, Miguel likely will have a teaching job. The English opening is still not posted online but should be tomorrow. My emotions have been on a bit of a roller coaster, as I'm acutely aware of the stress of this next phase of life. I don't know if I can convey in words how excited I am of the possibility of Miguel and I living together. We have yet to plan anything for a wedding, as that has been on the backburner to finishing residency, his school year, and him trying to find a job.

"We have come to be danced"

I know, I haven't written for a month and a half. It isn't that I haven't had things to write about or had time ... I don't have a good excuse.

I just read a poem in the Christiane Northrup newsletter that I wanted to share. The is by Jewel Mathieson.

We have come to be danced not the
pretty dance not the pretty pretty,
pick me, pick me dance
but the claw our way back into the
belly of the sacred, sensual animal
dance the unhinged, unplugged, cat
is out of its box dance the holding
the precious moment in the palms of
our hands and feet dance

We have come to be danced not the
jiffy booby, shake your booty for
him dance but the wring the sadness
from out skin dance blow the chip
off our shoulder dance the slap the
apology from our posture dance

We have come to be danced not the
monkey see, mokey do dance one,
two dance like you one two three,
dance like dance but the grave
robber, tomb stalker tearing scabs
and scars open dance the rub the
rhythm raw against our souls dance

We have come to be danced not the
nice invisible, self-conscious shuffle
but the matted hair flying, voodoo
mama shaman shakin' ancient bones
dance the strip us from our casings,
return our wings, sharpen our claws
and tongues dance the shed dead
cells and slip into the luminous skin
of love dance

We have come to be danced not the
hold our breath and wallow in the
shallow end of the floor dance but
the meeting of the trinity; the body,
breath and beat dance the shout
hallelujah from the top of our thighs
dance the mother may I? yes you
may take 10 giant leaps danced the
Olly Olly Oxen Free Freee dance
the everyone can come tour heaven dance

We have come to be danced where
the kingdom's collide in the cathedral
of flesh to burn back into the light to
unravel, to play, to fly, to pray to root
in skin sanctuary

We have come to be danced
WE HAVE COME

A lilac spotting

Now that we are finally entering spring (and no longer experiencing snow in late March ...), the blooms and leaves are popping up all over. And I saw a lilac just coming into bloom on my way to the co-op this morning.

I just learned about tulip fields outside of Woodburn. A trip might have to be on the agenda this weekend. I have great memories of going to see the tulips fields in Mount Vernon while in college, jumping between the rows of flowers, taking silly pictures and Lady Susan surprising a physics professor.

Night float is finally over. I had 16 nights of working the general pediatric wards spread over 4 weeks. My day and nights are completely screwed up. I've never taken melatonin before but I think I'm going to take some before bed the next few nights and see if that will speed up the conversation back to normalcy.

For those who don't know, NPR has a great program called Speaking of Faith hosted by Krista Tippets and she has a book out by the same name. During the program she speaks with people of all different faith traditions, religious, spiritual and not either. The conversations are fascinating. In the book she talks about her journey to her present state of spirituality and why she feels that discussions of faith are of vital importance for our country and the world. I've just started delving into the book and found the following provocative. It is part of Letters to a Young Poet by Maria Rainer Rilke.

... to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

I'm certainly not very good at sitting with uncertainty. I want to know that everything will work out okay, that I've made correct decisions ... choosing Port Angeles over Walla Walla, Miguel's decision to leave MMHS and come with me even if it means that he won't be able to get a high school English job next year, that we'll have healthy children, have I learned enough during residency to be a competent physician, what bigger energy or force is in the universe that connects us all together ...

Formalities just weren't working

I had kind of planned to go to mass on Easter (after a few years of hardly any mass attendance, I've kind of become a Christmas & Easter Catholic ... if that). Mom always sends a little package for Easter and this year included a book called Love Poems from God edited by Daniel Ladinsky, in which he collected spiritual thoughts in the form of poetry from "12 sacred voices from the East and West." Reading some of these lit up my soul and my desire for mass lessened. Here are a few that I really like. The first 2 are from Meister Eckhart and the 3rd is from Rumi.

They are always kissing, they can't

control themselves.

It is not possible

that any creature can have greater instincts

and perceptions than the

mature human

mind.

God

ripened me.

So I see it is true:

all objects in existence are

wildly in

love.

And another:

Knowledge always deceives.

It always limits the Truth, every concept and image does.

From cage to cage the caravan moves,

but I give thanks,

for at each divine juncture

my wings expand

and I

touch Him more

intimately.

And one more:

The grass beneath a tree is content

and silent.

A squirrel holds an acorn in its praycing hands,

offering thanks, it looks like.

The nut tastes sweet; I bet the prayer spiced

it up somehow.

The broken shells fall on the grass,

and the grass looks up

and says,

"Hey."

And the squirrel looks down

and says,

"Hey."

I have been saying "Hey" lately too,

to God.

Formalities just weren't

working.

I'll give you a hug as soon as my hands are out of this pumpkin

As my hands were deep inside a pumpkin scraping out the seeds and stringy undesirables and Miguel was working on school work, I asked, "Are we engaged?" (What I actually asked was certainly not as succinct a question but that was the intent.) Now, this might seem like an odd question and certainly not in the most romantic circumstances ... But here is why I was confused and asked the question. Several weeks before leaving for Costa Rica, we had some conversations about marriage. Somewhere in the midst of those talks we jointly agreed and decided to get married. Since those discussions, I've brought up the topic numerous times wanting to clarify his commitment. It has just felt very nebulous not having the "Will you marry me?" question in there. This weekend we sat down with pen and paper to discuss all of the big decisions and changes that are to happen in the next several months. One of the topics was marriage. Given the concreteness of the discussion, it seemed that marriage really was going to happen. Hence the question of engagement. We are planning on getting married before the end of the year.

So, are you fluent?

My advisor asked this after my 3 weeks in Costa Rica. Note the emphasis on three. Of course I'm not fluent. However, I certainly have a better grasp on the language now than I did a month ago.


Despite my intention to blog frequently during my trip, I guess I only wrote a few times. Ah well. I'm ambivalent about being back in the US. As it is with everything, there are positives and negatives to every experience. I was ready to come back home to Harper (mi gato), Miguel (mi amor), and Portland. However, the last week in La Fortuna was a lot of fun. I was comfortable with the town, the Spanish school and my host family. The comfort with my host family was aided by many things - all of the ruckus surrounding my host mother's father's death (I'll explain more in a minute) was over, there were 2 other students in the house, my relationship with my host mother was developing, and my Spanish was improving. For a week following deaths in Costa Rica, the family of the deceased says the rosary every day for 7-9 days. And at the end of that time, a large celebration culminating in a mass is said for and in celebration of the deceased. So, given that my host mother has a huge family - 7 brothers and 4 sisters, plus a supportive community, this meant a ton of people in the house all of the time. Not an entirely comfortable environment for one not part of the family who doesn't speak the same language. I liked there being 2 other students in the house, because then the onus wasn't just on me to carry on a conversation ... I just felt more relaxed. Also in the past week, my host mother (okay, this is ridiculous, she needs a name - Marie) and I jointly felt an affinty for each other. She taught the weekly cooking class and dancing class at her house. A friend of her's was over for dinner as well during the cooking class last Wednesday. The 3 of us were having a conversation and I'm not sure if I was fully engaged in the conversation or not understanding everything. You know when 2 friends are talking with a 3rd person there as well and they are talking up a storm but you don't have the slightest idea what they are talking about? Well imagine that in Spanish with some of it intended for me and some not, so some is said slower and more at my level and some is rapid-fire Costa Rican Spanish (which is super fast) of which I have no context. I think this was case during the conversation in question. Anyhow, Marie makes some comment to me to the effect of "Usted es mia." Translates as "you are mine." If felt good for her to say that, but I'm still not entirely sure what she meant by it. She seamed to enjoy the fact that I laugh easily and found things funny. We both expressed sadness that I was leaving.

The country is absolutely beautiful but the tenderness that I hold for Costa Rica is more about my connection with the people there than anything. I also really like rice and beans and could eat them for desayuno, almuerzo, y cena if I so desired ... :-)

Back on the homefront while I was in Costa Rica, my mom had to put our cat Maggie to sleep, who was with the family for the past 16 years or so, and my grandfather was diagnosed with a benign but growing tumor behind his eye that will eventually kill him over the next 6 months or so. He has been going downhill for the last few years with decreased mobility and self care but this has placed him in my aunt's home and is bed-bound. Life still goes on when you are on vacation. Oh, and one of my best friends got engaged ... Congrats D.


Below are a few pictures from the trip.

The active side of Volcan Arenal - it erupted in 1968 and destroyed the town of La Fortuna. Before this eruption only a few people who ventured up to the volcano for hunting and related activities even suspected that it was a volcano. It is the 4th most dangerous volcano in the world. Any guesses on the most dangerous?? Mt St Helens ... which was always just nearly in my backyard growing up.

Before talking to a the Costa Rican doctor we worked with, I thought this might be tongue-in-cheek or something ... Translated it says "To smoke is noxious for the health." But apparently this warning has to be on every advertisement for and package of cigarrettes. Few people shoke in Costa Rica probably because it is so expensive. The typical people you see smoking are tourists from Europe.
La iglesia de La Fortuna con Volcan Arenal detras. (The La Fortuna church with the volcano in the background.)

My host mother on the left and the woman who worked in the house to clean. She came from Nicarauga and had an 8 year old daughter back at home. And yes, I'm even tall in Costa Rica.

The hills near the volcano that I believe are called cerro chato and look the outline of a man lying down. His head is on the left.

Viernes

It has kind of been a long week. I guess for many reasons. There was a dance class last night that I had originally planned on attending but I was really tired last night and not in the best emotional state. I also didn´t have to be at a medical Spanish class at 7 am. So, I got more sleep last night and had a restful morning. I feel a lot better this morning.

I´m still with the same host family. I kind of feel like part of the family after all of the turmoil this week, even though I have such limited communication with them. I´m starting to understand more but am intimidated and nervous when I have to speak.

My host mother´s father was buried on Tuesday night, the day he died. Quite quick turn-around. I don´t think that happens much in the states.

The life expectancy in Costa Rica is 76 but people seem to live long here. Many people living well to 90. They have a national health care system, they eat well, few people are overweight ... all different from the US where life expectancy is 77.

Es muerte

I´ve been in La Fortuna near the Arenal Volcano (4th most dangerous volcano in the world, Mt St Helens is 1st ...) since Sunday. I´m staying with a host family. The host mother speaks a little English, actually seems better than my Spanish. And I feel so dumb trying to speak to them or rather to try and understand what they are saying to me. We had our first Spanish class yesterday afternoon after a medical Spanish class in the morning. Many people have been here for a few weeks and feel that their Spanish has improved considerably. I´m hoping.

Our group just went on a hike this morning to the forest around the volcano. It was initially very foggy but burned off some while we were up there. But we still couldn´t see the volcano. From town on a clear day you can see the volcano but there are often clouds obscuring the top, which is how it has been since Sunday. It was a fairly easy hike but since the altitude about 4,000 ft you get a little short of breath easily. It was very much a naturalist sort of walk with a great guide. We saw a sloth hanging asleep in the tree. Apparently they eat the leaves and fruit of this poisonous tree, well at least the leaves are poisonous. Max, our guide, was suggesting that the reason they move so slowly is that they are influenced by all of the poisons they ingest. No say. Well the sloth that we saw from a distance just looked like a gray thing in the tree. Apparently as they spend their whole lives in the trees they become more green because of moss getting into their fur. As I looked through some binoculars, the gray blob moved an arm to scratch or something. We also saw toucans, vultures, turkey vultures. The wandering Jew houseplant grows wild here. I got a picture of a large patch of it.

When I got to my host family on Sunday, the host mother asked if I minded staying in the house since her father was sick. She asked if I wanted to meet him. It wasn´t much of a meeting since he was not at all interactive and didn´t appear long for this world. It seems that much of the extended family has been here to see him. One of my host mother´s sisters came out this morning saying that he didn´t seem to be breathing. After going in to see him, my host mother came back out, grabbing me by the wrist to go in and check to see if he had a pulse (I didn´t bring my stethescope with me). No pulse, no breath, felt kind of cold, and I couldn´t hear anything with my ear on his chest. He also certainly looked dead. I´ve never told anyone that their family member is dead, let alone in Spanish and when I´m not in a medical role. I was leaving 5 minutes later for the volcano hike. I felt bad going but didn´t know what I could possibly do to help by staying. My mind has been wondering whether anyone else would have found any signs of life in him because in order pronounce someone dead you have to listen for a heart beat for an entire minute. I don´t know whether staying in that house now is good or not. We´ll see.

Butterfly mobiles hanging in the sunlight

A 5 hour plane ride doesn´t sound that long on paper, but when you are in the air that duration in the middle of the night in seats that don´t recline, it certainly feels like it´s never-ending. For those who don´t know I´m in Costa Rica for 3 weeks studying medical Spanish and taking a break from residency and the NW winter. I got here to the guest house of the Spanish school and promptly slept for over 2 hours. I had ear plugs in but didn´t hear someone knocking on the door at all.

2 others and I walked in downtown San Jose to this kind of tourist-y market. But they were selling some neat crafty things. I found myself drawn to these butterfly and fish mobiles that were hanging in the sunlight and to the man who was selling them. Unlike other vendors, he was proud to point out he made all the crafts he was selling. I walked past and "talked" to him 3 times before finally saying that I was interested in one of his butterfly mobiles. I initially thought they were quite similar but he said, no they are all different. Different colored butterfly wings, different colored seeds and painted wood. He didn´t speak any English and was patient in getting me to understand him and to understand my limited Spanish. It felt like a genuine encounter with a real human being. Granted he was selling and I was buying, but it felt bigger than that somehow. Like something deeper in me drew me to his booth over and over again.

I´m headed to a home stay tomorrow morning in Arenal, several house NW of San Jose. It is all an adventure and feels like me extending myself in many ways. I´m going to try to keep posting during my trip but we´ll see how internet access holds up and how time allows. But, hopefully more to come.

The Business of Being Born

This was a busy weekend of visiting my parents and spending a little time with Miguel. Mom and I went to a showing of the documentary The Business of Being Born (http://www.thebusinessofbeingborn.com/) at the Hollywood theater. Despite the fact that it took 1/2 hour to get into the theater because of ineficiencies of will-call tickets (imagine one person, looking up names in a little alphebetized card holder for hundreds of people), the the film was great. The film was sold out, mainly to women, and many of them pregnant. It discused the awful state of affairs in this country with having obstetricians delivering healthy, low-risk women in the hospital. Even though we are one of the most "developed" countries of the world, we have the highest infant mortality rate of all of the industrialized nations. OBs are surgeons by training and are not good nor interested (by-in-large) in "normal" deliveries. They want to intervene, feel that they are important. Women in the hospital delivery babies on their backs, which does not allow the pelvis to enlarge as much as it could if a woman was squatting to deliver her baby as women have for milennia. And, who is in charge in the hsoptial? Certainly not the woman.

Any why do I get fired up about this topic?? Well, on my inpatient OB rotation in med school, I was so unhappy. I did not enjoy the "male" attitude around delivering babies, with women flat on their backs, seemingly quite powerless; it just didn't seem like a joyful experience bringing life into this world. The OBs themselves seemed so unhappy. And then there were the C-sections. There is certainly a time and place and a need for these surgeries to occur, but is failure-to-progress (meaning the cervix isn't dilating anymore) after 2 hours really an indication for section? How could this possibly be the right way to do things. Oh, and then I see a different view during my NICU rotations in residency. Women who have "failed" home birth for any number of reasons or the baby was sick after being born and needed to come into the hospital for care are not met with the most respect. I don't know if the mother's notice these sentiments but I certainly hear them, the derogatory statments, snide remarks about home births, water births, birthing centers. Of course the sterility of the hospital would never have let this happen to these babies ... as if babies don't become septic being born in the hospital.

The film made a comment to the effect of "it is time to get the women out of the hospital," which was met with much applause. The film definitely has an agenda but it is quite balanced in its presentation and even highlights the appropriate use of C-sections. I just hope this film will increase awareness and increase the number of women who are informed of their options for birth and utilize midwives for all they are worth. I, for one, intend to.

Germs to share anyone?

You know that feeling of your throat just starting to hurt but not quite realizing the sensation? Well that was yesterday morning prior to a multivitamin plus about 2 g of vitamin C. Anyone else's mothers always insist on mega-vitamin C doses at the start of a cold? Well, it seemed to help yesterday but today is bringing sneezing, nasal congestion, and a huge desire to crawl into bed and sleep. Gotta love the sick kids coughing on me and sharing their lovely germies.

I'm on an easier rotation this month but 3 late nights in a row working urgent care doesn't suite my body rhythms very well. As anyone who has ever spent much time around me knows, I am a die-hard morning person and have a hard time sleeping in ... although Miguel is certainly having an impact on my ability to stay in bed longer.

Aventuras en la cocina con Chris y Miguel

Since I'm working on Spanish and using the (long-ago appointed) nickname Miguel, a full Spanish title seem appropriate (someone can let me know if the syntax is wrong) ...



So, dinner last night certainly was an adventure. We were trying out some new recipes, which in and of itself is not the adventure since it is fairly common-place around here. However, the behavior of the kitchen devices certainly was. I was working on sweet potato-rosemary soup (the recipe called for way too much stock in my opinion; I should have listened to my intincts and left out 4 cups of it ... who ever heard of putting 12 C of stock for 8 C of sweet potatoes?), blending the cooked sweet potatoes with a hand blender. I heard an unusual noise, pulled the blender out of the pot only to see that the blade had falled out of the blender. We rapidly pulled the blade out of the soup, hoping that it was only a single piece that fell out, and that there wasn't a long spring floating around in the soup. The soup still needed some more pureeing, but now that the hand-blender was defunct, we had to resort to the "old-fashioned" method of taking some aliquots of soup out at a time and placing them in the blender. The blender was turned on to work on 2 C of soup, immediately 1/4 of that ended up spraying on the wall and counter. still not quite sure what happened, if it was a combination of the soup being hot and the lid not being held down firmly? Anyhow, I moved Miguel out of the way to try and fix the problem, when the same thing happened to me. Maybe the seal was broken the soup went flying the first time around. We felt like we should be on some cooking show, with Maybel and Earl at home watching some nincompoops at home unable to puree soup ... We had some good laughs. Dinner actually turned out quite well, including this cake:



Ginger Pear Upside-Down Cake

Ginger Cake

1.5 C flour (3/4 C can be whole wheat pastry flour)

2 tsp ground ginger

1.5 tsp ground cinnamon

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt

1 egg (or substitue equal to one egg)

1/3 C sugar

1/3 C molasses

1/3 C applesauce

1/4 C canola oil

1/3 C yogurt (soy or dairy)

Pear Topping

1/4 C brown sugar

1/4 C walnuts, chopped (if desired)

2-3 pears cored and chopped thinly

1. Oil 8x8 baking pan and preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Mix dry ingredients together (besides sugar).
3. Mix together sugar, wet ingredients besidies yogurt.
4. Add wet to dry, then stir in yogurt.
5. Spread brown sugar on bottom of pan, then place walnuts (if using), and then pears.
6. Pour cake over pear topping layer.
7. Bake for about 35 minutes, or until knife comes out clean.
8. Immediately turn cake over onto serving plate.
9. Enjoy!

The pig is finally visible and acknowledged

In case anyone was wondering, I've survived the past week intact. Miguel came down late last week for support while reading Mom's response to my letter. I'd gotten myself so worked up that it took a lot of holding and tears to get through the night. Thankfully I wasn't on call the next day .... After so many years of a taboo subject, we finally have an open line of communication on this topic, and it's going to be okay. I've had many people say "just tell her." Good advice. But after not acknowledging that Miguel and I have stayed in contact for years and that topic being the huge pig in the room that no one is acknowledging (anyone see the _Life Goes On_ episode years ago where Corky had the pig in his bedroom, standing in front of the pig with his arms outstretched asking, "What pig?" to his father?), the subject has taken on epic proportions. It's going to take some time for both of us to be comfortable actually talking about Miguel and I spending time together. And, for me to fully realize that I need not be secretive anymore. It is interesting how the act of writing this letter and opening up communication has also opened up memories and ways of being that go back years and years. Mother-daughter relationships are certainly complicated, complex, and so central to who we are as women. I was so afraid that I would lose her love over this, and she, likewise, was afraid that I wouldn't still love her because of the way she handled the topic in the past. She was just worried and didn't want me to get hurt.
There are many conversations to have over the next several months, but I feel I can contemplate Miguel and I moving to Northern Washington together without having the caveat at the back of my mind, still needing Mom to know about our relationship.
Thanks for the positive thoughts ...

the sound of the mail box closing ...

as it gladly accepted the letter I finally finished writing to my mother. It wasn't even that long of a letter, actually quite short. But what it lacked in length, it held in emotional intensity. I had written a rough draft sort of thing several weeks ago. It had been staring at me, idling at the back of my consciousness the whole time, and it feels good in a way to have it done. A few times today I felt a little overwhelmed at this "secret" being out of my hands as it slowly makes its way up to Longview over the next day or two. Positive thoughts for a respectful conversation with Mom and courage for us both would be much appreciated ...