Final Natititty Gift, #16

When I showed this to Rick, he commented "Oh, I love those things!".   I've decided to take this as a compliment.  Thank you, Bee and HBG, for this "outstanding" graduation gift!

I wish I had the nerve to pop these beauties on for my last treatment, because I know the techs would have truly appreciated it.  It all went smoothly though, as did my drive up island, made all the  more enjoyable by the annual appearance of the lupins lining the highway.   It is a surreal feeling to release the apprehensions of the last five months, and to know that I have joined those in the "routine follow up" line.   A good place to be indeed.

Without the platform of my breast to stand on (no matter how many times I write that line I get a graphically painful image), I have been weighing out whether to continue this blog in the future.  Unfortunately, there have been quite a few of you that have expressed difficulty logging on or losing your log-on privileges.  The problem (I think) lies when you log into your Google account.   When you open your Google browser, check at the top of the page.  Your log-in name should be there.  If it only says "sign in" you need to do so, using your password, before logging onto the blog.  To sign in as a "guest" only allows you two weeks of communication and no comments allowed at all, so it's definitely best to use a Google password and then bookmark (or save to your favorites) for easy access in the future.  I can easily send anyone a re-invitation, if they let me know.  To leave the link as a minimized icon on your task bar will not allow you to get the most up to date postings, only to view where you have left off.   I have also changed the settings to "public" meaning it is available to search engines in the Google community.

Also, I have added a new feature on the page, called "follow by email."   I liked this widget as it allows an email to be automatically sent to your account whenever there is a new posting, and also the postings may be forwarded.  Just click on the link and add your email address if you're interested.  You won't get to see the entire blog, such as the POD etc, but you will be notified when there is something new happening.

Having said all that, I thought I would take a little poll and ask for your opinion as to whether you want The Cathologue to go forward.   Is it just Old Lefty that made it titillating to tune in (couldn't resist), or would you like to continue to share in my cooking calamities and adventures behind the lens?

I'll be honest with you - I have been thrilled with the sense of community and contact this blog has given me.  It has been heartwarming to introduce my friends and family to each other via  the comments section, and it has given me a delightful challenge to combine my two favorite hobbies, photography and writing.  So, let me know via your comments (or email, if you're shy) if you want to ride shotgun for a little while longer.

In the meantime, check out this cheerful little cherub.  Sarah Elizabeth, you are one beautiful baby girl!  Safe travels back to Kingston this morning, Rick, Amber and Sarah.  We will miss you.

Farewell, Victoria

I have really struggled to compose this post.   Having no frame of reference for the events of the past 21 days, there is nothing I can compare them to.   I think it would be presumptuous of me to offer insights or inspirations gleaned from this challenging experience, although I hasten to say that my time here has been rich beyond comparison.  Every journey is different.   I have been from the depths of the beautiful sunken gardens to the top of Mount Maxwell.  I've stolen flowers, done Fragoli shots in the cemetery with my dear mom on Mother's Day, burned food and set off the smoke alarm more than once, overshopped, overeaten, underslept,  discovered friends, got lost a thousand times, missed my husband, friends and job too many times to count.  I have had the absolute privilege of spending these golden days with my daughter, an incomparable young woman.  If I ever grow up, I want to be just like her.   No words can express my gratitude, for her cheerfulness, humor, and stalwart support.  I have seen myself through her eyes, and I have witnessed love defeat worry, and that is courage, real courage.

Tomorrow at 0830 I will complete the Last of the Blasts, climb into the car and head north, none the worse for the wear.  Old Lefty has a slightly boiled appearance, but nothing that won't fix itself over the next few months.  To my cherished family and friends who have been with me throughout it all, my gratitude is inexpressible.  The blog comments, emails, flowers, treats, cards, phone calls, and surprise visits made me feel more invincible than Superwoman.

The Cathologue is going to take a little break for a few days, and then I promise I'll be back.  I need some serious snuggle time with my sweetheart, and to settle back into my home and delight in the richness of my blessings.

Hey Honey- you know that bottle of Mumm's we've been saving for a special occasion?   I think it's time you put it on ice.

Much love to you all.

Salt Spring Part 2

There are many roads to explore on this beautiful island, and not all of them involve climbing mountains or concussions. Wineries, orchards and farms populate the lower plains and are a joy to explore. As it is bad luck to break with tradition, I picked up a nice pinot gris to take over to my cousin's for dinner this evening - a grand way to wrap up this outstanding weekend.

Obviously this vintner has got the hang of brewing award-winning vino.

Sacred Mountain Lavender Farm is tucked away half-way up the mountain slope, and we had a great time exploring the fields and then poking around the charming store where everything lavender is sold, from lavender coffee (ugh) to various oils, perfumes, sprays, massage creams and even disinfectants. We were given a sniff test to differentiate between English lavender and French lavender, and unfortunately I didn't notice that a can of coffee beans was being held under my nose to clear the senses. I was unable edit my perplexed expression nor my comment that French lavender had a distinct coffee aroma. Bee looked at me with that demented look of impending hysteria that I am only too familiar with, and I knew she was about to lose it, big time. I managed to get her out of there before she completely disgraced us both, but it was close. It was definitely time to head for home.

Hope you all had a perfect weekend. As they say at the hat shop in Ganges, I'll be

Salt Spring, Part I

Somewhere inside of me a little voice is saying that I am having far too good of a time.  Fortunately, a bigger voice shuts her down and then orders fries with my grilled cheese  (not really) and a top up of Sauvignon Blanc (really).  It ain't all beer & skittles here in Knockersville, but I sure have had some fantastic adventures.

This morning found us on the early ferry, bound for Salt Spring.  It was perfect weather and we spotted a couple of whales as we left the ferry dock.   Or maybe dolphins.  OK, they were either tiny whales or big dolphins.  At any rate, we were on the island before 8 a.m., stopped at a bakery to pick up fresh coffee and a couple of breakfast buns (clearly marked in English as Sausage, Egg and Cheese, and lo and behold, that's really what they were!).   With Bee at the helm, we four-by'd our way straight up a sheer mountain for a breakfast picnic (Mt. Maxwell), laughing merrily as we shot past the signs warning of a rough road ahead, and forbidding recreational vehicles to continue.  Bee turned up the tunes as we hit the first of the washboard and mighty moguls, a few wash-outs, a sluce tray and several landslides.   Piece of cake.  Pedal to the metal, "That's why we have a CRV, right, mom?".

You know what?   If we had taken this road trip 15 days ago, I could have skipped my radiation treatments altogether.  Because literally?  My boobs nearly snapped right off.   Up, down, sideways, we rocketed our way to the top of the mountain, coffee spilling out over the cups, water bottles shooting from one side of the car to the other.  I stopped trying to chat as my jaw snapped shut and nearly bit my tongue in half.  My bladder descended to my knees.  I wished with all my might for a motorcycle helmet as my head knocked repeatedly on the roof of the car.     I just held on, grimly, with visions of a nauseating IMAX feature in the works, Bee as the executive producer.

But oh, it was worth it.   Have a peek at the POD below for the incredible vista that awaited us.   It would have rendered me speechless, had my tongue not already been cut in half.

The famed market awaited, after a rapid and equally thrilling descent.  Two thumbs up to this fantastic artisan's courtyard, which is showcased next to a beautiful, sparkling harbour and tempted us with unique artistic creations, food and music.

Heritage breads

Salt Spring's Cheese Factory





Fresh sprouts



Hats and ice cream on a hot day

The highlight of our morning - watching this lovely family

Let me tell you about BBQ pork buns...

Do you know what those fortune cookies SHOULD have read?   "A wise woman learns to read Chinese labels or big fat belly will be very, very sore."   But it didn't, no sirreee.  Buoyed up by the toothy smiles and assurances of the non-English speaking merchant ("You like mixed?  I give you mixed buns!"), I could hardly wait to surprise Bee with our special Friday dinner!  My enthusiasm outweighed my ignorance as I popped a couple of the glossy buns into the warmer, even though they didn't exactly smell like pork.   Well, not even remotely like pork.   But there was a dark, weird-looking centre in one of them, and I confidently said to Bee, "You can have that one, that's the pork one, and I will have the other one, which I think might be some kind of beef flavor or, um, something."  After all, I bought two packages, four each pack, and I knew that some of them were the famed honey buns.

Except ---- The one with the dark centre turned out to be some kind of chocolate tofu.   No, really.   And the rest?  Well, there was one that definitely had honey on it.  There was a pineapple variation.  Something with sesame seeds.   Then there were the coconut cream buns.  Except,  it wasn't cream.   It was creamed butter, and lots of it.  Not a pork bun in the lot, nor beef for that matter.   And we ate them anyway, all but one, stuffed them down with butter dripping down our chins, and then we felt like we had both eaten an entire feather pillow.  Did we have room for fortune cookies?   But of course, and here is what mine said:   "Functioning superbly will come automatically to you."  Seriously?   We all know that won't apply to buying pork buns, right?

Opium dens, brothels and honey buns

This beautiful gate, called "The Gate of Harmonius Interest" was built in Suzhou, one of Victoria's sister cities.    Chinatown in Victoria has shrunk to just a few blocks between Fisgard, Pandora and Government Streets.   But oh, what a dynamic and exotic spot, especially on a radiant (bad pun) and sunny Friday morning.  The market bustles with cartons and trucks arriving by the second, and my timing was perfect to buy barbecue pork and honey buns for our dinner tonight - so fresh that they had to cut open the boxes for me to retrieve the fresh goodies within.
 



I didn't knock.   Would you?

  


The produce arrives

 

Sorry Daffy duck!  



Narrowest street in Victoria, where opium and brothels ruled



 

Fan Tan Alley is a labyrinth of tea shops, palm readers and herbalists.   It's worth a wander just to absorb the sights and smells. 


 I loved spending the morning here, and although I didn't partake in a glass of bubble tea or sample anything else that was unrecognizable, it was so great to soak up the sights, sounds and sunshine.   Just before I left I happened into a small shop that featured handmade silk clothing for children.   After an animated, somewhat fractured conversation with the shopkeeper, complete with giggles, mouth covering and a lot of bowing, we settled on a good price for a couple of gorgeous outfits for the grandbabies. Emperor William and Empress Sarah?   Your dynasties await.

 

WHAT IS THIS THANG?

Animal, vegetable or mineral?

Here's a hint:   It lives here on the farm with me.  I look into its eyes every morning around 5 a.m. and over the past couple of days, I have been totally weirded out by their expression.   This creature looks distainfully at me every time I appear. So judgemental is its icy stare that I have begun brushing my hair before venturing near it and I rarely lock my gaze with it, fearing its unblinking ability to search deeply into my soul and thereby reveal the $5 of chocolate-covered ju jubes that I ate last night under the covers.  It's some kind of freakazoid alien, I'm pretty sure.

On the splendid side of the headlines,  this morning Birch was running early and I didn't even have a chance to sit down before they called me in for my blast.   Now that there are only four (YES I SAID FOUR! FOUR! FOUR!!) treatments left, I am finally getting immersed in the social structure of the unit, i.e., whether Jayne the technician and her husband camped out and got wet over the weekend, who made potato salad for dinner, who thinks glass-blowing is dangerous.  All pretty interesting stuff, and now I'm not going to be around to find out how it ends.  Over in Arbutus they probably just talk about stuff like bark peeling, heh, heh. (That one's for you, Lew.)

I had my final check up with my rad/onc, who awarded me a star as I hung my head and tried to look humble.   She also mentioned that they are waiting on a new study that will likely negate radiation therapy for women in my diagnostic bracket, i.e. early type, not terribly aggressive, well-seasoned, dignified and mature (ok fine, over 55 and menopausal) and responsive to hormone therapy.   They just don't feel that the radiation for this group is going to make a statistical difference, and so in the future, these ladies will likely just have an excision followed by 5 years of hormones.   I found this strangely reassuring, even though this alludes that this stint of therapy may all be for naught.   If I were given the choice, I believe I still would have opted for the radiation.  It's a relatively benign procedure and even if it offers only a slight improvement in the stats, it is still worth the small risk of side effects. 

Could someone please remind me that I said that when I get turned down for the Playboy spring issue because of my aligator scales?

Another great weekend

Bee and Rick, waiting for the ferry

Time marches along and despite a change in the weather, we continue to explore beaches, restaurants, music and recipes. Without a doubt the highlight of the weekend was a visit from my wonderful hubby. We three spent a happy Saturday riding around on the little harbour ferries, having lunch at the Spinnaker and then a long meander around Victoria's inner harbour. It was a feast for the senses - fire-eating buskers, musicians, the smell of caramelized waffles, artists, craftsmen and watchable people everywhere. It's great fun to play tourist in your own town. We capped off the day with dinner at The Roadhouse on West Saanich. If anyone is visiting the area, we're giving two thumbs up to this friendly little pub that just opened in August. The food is delicious and well-priced, and the ambience is inviting. There was even a laid-back band playing Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young - how West Coast Mellow is that?


As you might surmise, I continue to feel exceptionally well, a condition I attribute directly to the fine company I am keeping and not at all to the couple of bottles of champs that my sweetheart thoughtfully provided. Treatments begin again early tomorrow morning and I am thrilled to note that, one week from then, I will be doing cartwheels over the finish line. This will change the game plan from one of active participation into a radically different phase, and I have only recently began to feel my way into that landscape. Knowing that I am fully armed with the most invincible support team on the planet gives me indescribable joy and complete confidence to move ahead. I am acutely and profoundly grateful for the strength of these blessings from all of you!

As a matter of fact, Julia, my fingers were all over this!



Apologies to my dear sis, who gets this picture every time I make this salad!

 
 

Gastronomy is not for the gutless

Blue on blue - Island View beach

Living in the big city has taught me a few new skills, and not all of them are legal.  For instance.  Yellow lights are just a suggestion, not a command.   Secondly - parking is hideously expensive downtown but becomes free after 6 p.m.  If you're feeling lucky you can tempt fate and let that meter expire at 5:45.   It helps a lot to leave the BC Cancer Agency  parking slip prominently displayed on your windshield.  Hey, I'm using every trick in the book!  Remember, I'm on tamoxifen!

Yesterday's meeting with the playboy bunny went well and as per usual, I was out of there practically before I arrived.   Side effects continue to be minimal and mitigated by copious amounts of Glaxol cream - kind of like a kinky spa treatment - only unilateral.  Gives a whole new meaning to the expression "slipping on your bra."

Bee managed to escape from her robbers and crooks a couple of hours early so we hit the beach for a peaceful stroll before making dinner.  I have been trying to decide whether I should tell you what I made, because it really was straight out of the 50s and showed zero creativity and even less nutrient value.   It was saved by melting copious amounts of cheese over top, and that's all I have to say about it.  Oh yeah, and it involved the name "Campbell's."  The worst part is that we have the second half to plough through tonight.

To atone, I've got a fabulous quinoa salad under construction.   Ancient grains, sunflower seeds and roasted walnuts will be added, along with pomegranate arils (how many of you knew that's what you call a pomegranate seed?  Now you have a dandy conversation starter.  You're welcome!).  Of course there will be feta, red peppers, chunks of apple, fresh garden carrots and white mulberries, spring onions and fresh basil, lots of it.  Just the antidote we need, especially when followed by a couple of chocolate Skinny Cows for dessert - right, Bee?  Hurry home - Grey's season finale is on tonight!

Quote of the day:   "It's so beautifully arranged on the plate - you just know that someone's fingers have been all over it."  - Julia Child

Sidney-by-the-Sea



Big news, Birch is back blasting on schedule.   Tomorrow is my half way mark and to celebrate that I will also meet with the radiation oncologist (the one who looks like a Playboy bunny), who has already confirmed ahead of time that I am not allowed to have the double blast to make up for the stat Monday.  Oh well.  I wonder if a bottle of mead wine will loosen her up?

We spent this morning in beautiful Sidney, walking along the seawall and finding a darned good coffee shop and an outstanding cupcakery, among other things.  I boasted shamelessly to Bee about my superhuman ability to resist such treasures all the way into the store, right up until I ran face-first into the peanut butter chocolate cupcakes.  My resolve shamelessly crumbled on the spot.  The merchant was so impressed with our groans of delight she insisted we also sample a banana one, free of charge, and I was so impressed with her favorable impressions of us that I promptly insisted on buying 14 minis for Bee to surprise her workmates at coffee.  Having stretched our mutual admiration about as far as it would go, we waddled out the door.  Sidney is now in the top five of my places-to-live-right after-I-win-the-big-one list.

Today I'd like to give a big shout-out to my very special gym girls and congratulate them for acing their bike trip from Courtenay to Coombs to Parksville and back again last weekend.   Way to go, ladies!  Your spirit, determination and dedication to fun and fitness is truly an inspiration, and I can't wait to be back among you.

A Very Special Weekend

This fabulous weather continues to make every adventure so joyful, and the time passes without pause.   On Saturday afternoon we explored the Moss Street market,  wandering around sipping coffee and admiring the unique creations of the vendors.   We both came to a screeching halt at the cheese display, succumbed to several free samples, and brought home some fantastic products - a smoky Tipsy Jill, some fromage frais and a nice wedge of Qualicum Spice - perfect guests at our picnic on Mother's Day at beautiful French Creek.  After the market, the IMAX presentation was excellent and I only had to close my eyes about 25 times to avoid being sucked under the train wheels.  After that I found by clinging to the arm rest and concentrating really hard, I could remain seated in an upright position. 

We discovered a Meadery on our way home from Sooke on Sunday.   Anybody remember the Middle Ages?   Well, mead was a devastatingly bewitching wine made from honey.  It carries the reputation as a "giver of life, wisdom, courage and strength down through the ages."  After a few samples (and feeling incomparably wise, courageous and strong), we left with a nice bottle of Solstice Metheglin and a couple of jars of wildflower honey.   Sadly, the entire stock of Sin Cyser Mead was depleted.  I just wanted it for the label anyway.

I've got bruschetta on the brain today so after treatment, gym and a few chores, I'll be busy scalding the skin off some tomatoes and chopping garlic and basil.  Maybe I'll have a shot of Metheglin, just to bring out the Catherine the Great in me.

Beautiful French Creek Park



Bee, holding honey.   Now would I miss a photo-op like that?



But Charts Garden (gee thanks, Spellcheck)

It's a Friday worth raising a glass - the end of my first week, one-third in the bank, five down and eleven to go (but who's counting)?  This morning I was finished my treatment before it technically began, back in the car and on my way to the gym for a sedate workout by 8 a.m.   The gang at BCCA are either highly efficient or extremely anxious to see me leave.  Maybe both.

It is a picture perfect day here and I decided to celebrate by taking my faithful sidekick, Cyclops the Canon with me to Butcharts.   I think the last time I was there I was around 15 years old and it was raining.  I remember being shown a lot of gardens that "are going to be just exquisite in a month or two."  I  was about as impressed as the average petulant teenager could be.

Today - oh my! - today, I was pretty much gobsmacked.   I spent a long time behind the lens, trying to capture the overwhelming beauty of the gardens while savoring their sweet perfume.   My lucky timing caught them at their springtime peak, and the million or so tulips were standing stately and rich in color and design, not a faded bloom or bruised petal among them.  After a long and tranquil stroll I invited myself out to lunch and enjoyed a bowl of creamy seafood chowder and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, seated at a table set below a lush draping of pink and blue.  There is something so soul-satisfying about relaxing at a sun-drenched table while sipping a glass of wine and admiring great beauty.  If this could only be bottled, it would surely be the cure of all things evil.

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!



Lunch with a view



Catterina's Delizioso Pizzeria

Eight weeks I've been waiting to make this pizza!  Starting with the purchase of a pizza stone, followed by an inspiring article in a magazine that challenged me to create the crust from scratch.  The toppings were self-invented or maybe hallucinated - caramelized onion, oven-roasted peppers, grape tomatoes and garlic.   All spread over a pesto sauce and then lovingly covered with Canadian mozzarella and shaved parmesan.  I donned my apron, threw on the Blues Classic - "5-10-15 hours" and some Muddy Waters (Italian blues?) , and channeled Giada for a couple of hours.  Check it out - and go and buy yourself a pizza stone.  They weren't kidding when they said that it perfects the crust. 

Bet you all were wondering whether I made it back into Birch today.   Nope.   The machine was still on strike and I was called in early to fill a spot in Oak.   At this rate, I will have seen the entire forest by the time I am finished.  Which, by the way - thanks to the statutory Monday coming up, and extra thank yous to the union who won't work on a stat unless they are paid triple time plus a cruise, my sentence just got extended an extra few days, from the 26th to the 29th.   I asked about doubling up on Cryptonite to save a couple of days but apparently it might endanger the planet, and so it looks like my tenure is lengthened accordingly.  A bit of a bummer, unless you count the time I get to spend with Bee.

Today I poached some gorgeous Martha Stewart-type lilacs off the road side of a fence edging Beaver Lake.   I always knew I was meant for a life of crime.   In the late afternoon we went to Island View Beach, then topped off the day checking out a tea shop where for about $7.95, they promised us we can achieve Nirvana!  Who knew it was that easy, eh Buddha?

Critters

Everyone?   Meet Pepsi.   This handsome dude, and his roommate, Joe, make my stroll down to the end of the driveway extra pleasant.   He usually has something reflective to say, kind of in a deep-throat manner, and he also likes to greet the dogs.   Piper, ever so naughty, gets the occasional nip in, just to prove who is really boss on this farm.

It's been a good day, despite having my Bee pulled back into the trenches to go and bust some bad guys, which shouldn't take longer than about 9 o'clock tonight.   In the meantime, I've had a couple of beautiful walks, visited Beaver Lake and sleuthed around Sears looking for.... I can't tell you!  It's a secret and she reads this blog too!

Receiving my dose of cryptonite today was slightly complicated as apparently, someone (not me) broke the machine yesterday over in Birch.  That's me, I'm a Birch girl.  Oh, excuse me, a Bitch Birch SuperWoman.   So instead I had to wander over to Arbutus, where the view was the same but the machine was noisier.  It was busy, but the waiting room was happily crowded by a couple of service dogs - a golden retriever with soft eyes and a gentle wag, and something that I can only describe as an upside down mop having some sort of seizure.   Obviously he commanded the greatest amount of attention from my fellow inmates, needing round-the-clock belly rubbing and the more he received, the greater the intensity of his gyrations.  It was blissful comedic relief in a very apropos spot, and just another example of the sensitivity and scope of this place of hope.








One down

The day began with a magical breakfast - Lisa's apple cinnamon French toast, fruit salad, Greek yoghurt.   While she toiled, I sat regally and indicated with a snap of my fingers when it was time for a refill of tea or more coconut syrup.  Guys, role reversal is awesome!

Victoria was beautiful today - the cherry and apple blossoms were spilling out from the trees and it was sunshine, all day.   We took it as a good omen and it was - a speedy trip downtown and a parking spot right outside the front door of the BCCA.  The whole thing took about 15 minutes and that included a little introductory chat and the usual issue of lining me up inside the scanner.   The machine went to work and did its thing while I tried not to think about it, and within a few minutes the techs were waving me out the door with a cheerful, "See you tomorrow!".   And so it begins.  One step towards the finish line; fifteen to go!

Does this look like a packing list to you?



Time tunnel - Portugal, September 2011

 Dear Self:  

Don't forget -

1.  Two-fer coupon book for Victoria restaurants and pubs.
2.  Camera, chargers, USB cords, IPad, IPod, IPhone, IShadow (hee hee), batteries.
3.  Sizzling new porn book from Sue (50 Shades of Grey - Dr. Oz recommends, must read).
4.  Earthenware pizza stone and cutting wheel.
5.  Package of Stilton cheese with lemon rind (on sale at Q-Foods this week!).
6.  Yoga mat.


The sheer lunacy of this list excites me even when it brings me up short with the realization that... oh yeah... I'm supposed to get treated for cancer while I'm there too.  Bummer.  Is this what you call denial?  Or is it just a refusal to miss out on some really good stuff?    As one of my dear friends and fellow survivors counseled "If you can't find anything to laugh about, you're not going to have any fun having cancer."  I hear you, Lew.  Three days until my "RAcation" begins.  The packing list continues to grow - but in the right direction, I think.