The Little "c"

Composed on dad's first treatment:

At his very moment I am sitting in a dimly lit space, surrounded by voices, whirring and beeps, shuffling feet and bustling nurses.  My stepmom is my anxious companion, as we sit by my dad's bedside.  When I shared with her I was going to write about dad and the big "C" - she was quick to correct me and renamed it the little "c."  (Every now and then she says something worth noting - but don't tell her I said that!)

All has been quiet on the blog front as we have been coming to terms with cancer joining our family.  It was an uninvited guest.  But before it announced it's appearance, it came like an invisible, deadly ninja months before and lay in wait, spreading like dandelions on a freshly plotted piece of garden.  Except less pretty.  By the time it became clear that something had invaded my dads 56 year old body, the damage had already been done. It started in the lung....spread to his liver, his spleen, his lymphnodes, his spine, his skull, his brain...pretty much everywhere.

So we wait while radioactive material blasts him and courses through his veins.  We try and have the most ridiculous conversations to lighten the oppressing mood of illness, making him laugh unexpectedly while he can stay awake.  We pray, we hope, we yearn for the chemical cocktail to work its magic on the little "c."

Time has become the most precious commodity in our lives.  It has started to spill it's sand so quickly it's all we can do to collect each grain and appreciate what it represents.  None of this scary news has affected my dad's outlook on life.  He's still positive even though he just had to give up his career at Kraus Flooring, which I think was more difficult for him than even being told he has terminal cancer.  Unbelievably, and I mean even the doctors were blown away when dad was asking if they could arrange radiation and chemo appointments around his work schedule, he worked through the beginning appointments.  He is one loyal employee.  But that is how he lives his life.  So I channel his high spirits and dedication, so that I can be the best daughter and caretaker I can be.

I can't believe it but...I'm gearing up for a battle at the side of my dad.  It won't be pretty for the little "c".  Expect undignified outbursts along the way!

Never give up,

Kathy :)

Projects, Bronchitis, Gall Bladder Recovery, Chicken Pox and Christmas

Christmas came in a blustery whirlwind of some much-needed happy excitement!  For those that don't know, Hubby was rushed to the ER via ambulance for severe pain (which we now know was a gallstone attack).  The recovery has been slow and achy for him.  His diet has been reduced to a pittance of bland, no-fat foods (this has made him slightly, er...well, cranky).  I get it. We love food!  And this whole event has put a real damper on the consumption of his usual holiday treats.  However - he is a trooper and has managed to pull through.

On top of that, whilst in the toxic soup of the ER waiting room with Hubby, I managed to make an unwanted friend with a virus that turned into a severe case of bronchitis.  This 'friend' does not want to exit my lungs and has made me hack so hard - my new doctor questioned if I had become a smoker!!!  Thankfully, I am on antibiotics to quell the growth of any further bacteria.

And, since timing has never been my strong suit, it was also Christmas. (Insert a case of Chicken Pox here - on a vaccinated child, to boot!)  Amidst all of the negative, we were blessed with a lovely Christmas.  Time off of work topped the list as something I was SO grateful for (and for having such a flexible boss).  With everything going on - it made my life way easier.  And, because I am fairly organized, the one saving grace was I had finished my Christmas shopping pretty early in the year! (And because I am a teensy bit of a freak, I actually bought a few presents for next year already!!)  

That being said, I am married to guy that is pretty great (albeit, a titch grumpy for lack of real food!!) so we still managed to accomplish some home projects despite the setbacks.  But, when I get an idea for a project, hubby always give me a certain look: a raised eyebrow, a tilted head that begs me not to drag him into my crazy plans.  However, the truth is, when he joins me on those projects, we produce a level of greatness that I would have trouble replicating without my unwilling sidekick.  So, when I asked for his expertise in using a drill, he sighed, raised an eyebrow, and worked hard to convince me to leave the piece of furniture as it was.  I nodded absently, letting him think there was a chance that he was right, then I pounced (what is it with men so AGAINST painting all things wood?!)!  I had a final vision of what I wanted the piece to look like, and I wasn't about to be deterred.  (I have included the the before and after pictures to prove my point - for the doubters).  He sighed, and fired up the Ryobi...and I can say I am so happy with the final product (and my Hubby!!).

Boring wood furniture about to be VAVOOMED!

Project finished!

So this post is dedicated to Hubby's patience, his mad skills, his ability to trust my end results, and for his support in whatever creative adventure I am on.  Whether it's canning, writing, cooking or decorating - he's got my back.  And I love that. 

I can't believe it but...19 years ago I was lucky enough to nab the father of my three kids - and a great partner - all because I overheard him speaking french :) !

 

Kathy Pettit 

Prickly Personality? It Doesn't End Well...

Big Puffer Fish Washed Up on Beach in Costa Rica

You meet some interesting characters on the road of life.  Some amazing people who you think you should be more like, others who have the uncanny ability to make you laugh at the most mundane situations, and those people that you try really hard to avoid because their personality leaves you feeling..."ouch!"  I have a secret that I'm going to share about this last type - but you have to read to the end to get it!  (Don't think I'm being prickly - I promise I'm not!)

Picture this: A sunrise teasing the grey sky with hints of orange and red, warm sand squishing between your toes, the surf kissing your ankles with it's foamy edge.  The quiet peace of a morning that started before the sun rose in it's full splendour.  It really sets the scene for some actual romance (I say actual because at home surrounded by real life - actual romance can be hard to make really magical - which is way easier at an exotic location like Costa Rica) - I'm sure you would agree. 

While the water noisily flushed over my ankles we noticed some shapes in the sand ahead, as the sun was lighting the beach aglow.  Hmmm....we saw puffer fishes.  Big ones.  Dead ones...but big.  I have never seen one up close before and was, to be frank, creeped out by them!  Suddenly that lovely water that cleaned the sand from my feet every few seconds freaked me out.  Imagining those creature alive (or dead!) bobbing around my ankles was not a thought that kept with the theme of romance.  We moved a bit further from the edge and saw body after body of these (Poor? Not sure I'd use that description - but still - it was sad they were dead!) things. 

But here is the part that I found morbidly fascinating; up ahead a giant black vulture was eating these critters on his own private sandy smorgasbord!  The circle of life is even more amazing in places of unfamiliar territory! Check out the picture below we snapped....  

 

 

I started thinking about the prickly people in my life - past and present.  I keep a distance, because the alternative is - well - OUCH!  But among the thorns that exist in people, there is an inherent weakness.  You see, like all versions of armour, there is a weak point.  A vulnerability that exists in all of us.  In the beached puffer fish - it was it's death.  In people, it's just being human!  It doesn't end well if you're not nice.  Now, you won't get gobbled up by a vulture (unless of course you take a trip out to a desert with no water...and you pass out from heat...and then die...then you may turn out to be lunch for a very unattractive large bird) but just being yourself will eventually not end well.  The weakness is people will eventually see you for who you really are.  If that version of yourself ain't (yep - I said ain't - whatcha gonna do about it?!) pretty - you're done for!

 

So here's the thing - if you have the intention of being a good person - DO IT!!  Take action, folks!!  Listen more, let people tell their stories, talk less, share what you have generously, like everyone (or at least try to!), smile at strangers, lend a hand when one is needed, and just be nice.  I don't want any of my readers to end up like that spiky sea creature.  I shudder at the thought!

 

 

I can't believe it but...I have puffer fish in my blog!!

 

 

Happy being good!

 

Kathy Pettit

Canned Meat...What is Happening at my House?!

You know I love you - because this tidbit about what I served my family should be completely (and understandably) top secret!  I have an overall disdain for canned, processed meat - with the exception of an occasional can of tuna.  The thought of a gelatinous blob of meat, where you can't be certain of the origins or even prove that it's the critter it states on the label, normally keeps me far away from the stuff.  But I was intrigued by the concept of pulled pork, looking like it had been simmering all the day long.

I spent about $11 on the can...and when I got home I opened it with an underlying sense of doom.  What sort of protein would be bobbing around in the huge can - and more importantly would it make me wretch in disgust?  I peeked inside and found broth with a whole roast inside.  The ingredients were all natural - with no MSG or artificial ingredients - which is a good thing!  Using monster tongs, I pulled it out and slid the lump into my stovetop dutch oven and inspected it.  The chunk looked like a pork roast, smelled like a pork roast...but I was still highly suspicious.  I grabbed two forks and prodded at it, and to my surprise it pulled apart - just like the roast I make from scratch.  (I say 'just like' - but you know what I mean!).  I shredded it and poured in our favourite bottled sauce - seen in the pic above - and simmered it on low for about 15 minutes until Hubby walked through the door.  It smelled good, so I hid the can - wondering if he would notice.

In he walked, fresh crusty buns in hand, commenting on the yummy smell permeating the main floor.  Trying to act natural, I double checked the can was well-hidden and ushered him into the dining room along with our three hooligans.  Before serving I nervously tried a small bite...it was good!  Like really good!  I could not tell that I was eating canned meat at all!

After he finished polishing off two buns slopped with heaping mounds of BBQ-y pulled pork, I dragged him into the kitchen to show him the can.  He was surprised...but admitted it was good.

So - I'm putting a few cans in my pantry for those times when I need to whip up a quick meal for an unexpected crowd.  And I would hazard a guess that they'll never know what hit 'em!  Unless of course they read my blog!  If they have no idea then the truth about who reads my blog will become glaringly obvious :) 

I can't believe it but...I actually ate canned meat and lived to tell the tale!

Happy Canned-Meat Eating!

Kathy Pettit