Joel, Stephanie, Paul, Andy and Brian blink blearily for Sus the Camerawoman after staring up at the amazing display of stars AND at the Northern Lights.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
A different Boundary Waters experience
A travel article I wrote (that didn't appear online)
I sat on a huge white rock that sloped down towards the lapping blue
water. So far, so good. But then I lifted my gaze to the land across
the lake, where a 34-mile wildfire had burned itself out only two weeks
before.
Instead of the crowded green hues of Superior National Forest, I saw
burnt-orange desolation. Huge chunks of earth were lifted out of the
ground, revealing the complex root systems of charred trees that had
crashed down. The perfume of pines was replaced by the smell of one
tremendous campfire.
This was not the Boundary Waters I knew and loved.
News of the Cavity Lake fire, set off by lightning on July 14, never
trickled down to my friends and me. As the fire raged, we sat
blissfully unaware in a stifling Rogers Park apartment and planned our
three-day canoe trip into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA).
However, despite the surprise challenge of two days camping and
canoeing in a fire zone, the Boundary Waters charmed me once more on
this, my third, visit.
The BWCA is a one-million acre wilderness preserve that stretches
between Ontario and northern Minnesota. Each year thousands of campers
canoe along 1,200 miles of water trails, portaging their canoes and
packs across land bridges that connect hundreds of lakes and rivers.
Yet despite its many visitors, the BWCA looks much as it did when the
French Voyageurs paddled their fur-heaped canoes through the waterways.
These days, primitive campsites feature a firepit, grate and pit
latrine shielded only by trees. Hikers must pack out everything they
pack in to keep the land untouched. The water is clear, the fishing
plentiful and the forests teem with life.
One trip five years ago, I slipped away from my group and took a canoe
out alone in the magical, still moments just after sunset. As my oars
flashed through a lake of glowing glass, beavers splashed on either
side of me and a loon called eerily.
On Aug. 16, the six of us drove 12 hours to the northeastern tip of
Minnesota and arrived at sunset in Grand Marais, a charming town built
along Lake Superior. After a quick dinner at the unabashedly kitschy
Sven and Ole’s pizzeria (one offering, “Da Vild Vun,” comes topped with
wild rice), we drove up the Gunflint Trail until we were just a lake
away from Canada. There we draped our sleeping bags over a rented cabin
floor and enjoyed the convenience of indoor plumbing for one more
night.
The next morning we pulled our canoes into Saganaga Lake and were off.
Only we weren’t. Not with a bolt of speed, anyway. One of the pleasures
of a canoe trip is that you are forced to slow down to the steady,
splashing pace of paddling. Conversation among our lively bunch of
young adults also slowed down as we consulted our map and entered the
wilderness.
Our first turn was a wrong turn (compass and map skills are a must in
the BWCA) but it was a serendipitous mistake, because we spotted a bald
eagle flying low towards a nearby island, shrieking. We quietly pulled
up alongside the island to see three adult bald eagles and one
youngster perched among the trees and rocks.
After lunch on an obliging island, we catapulted into the water for
swimming. Our afternoon paddle was a hard pull against a strong
headwind, so we were happy that evening to pitch our tents and enjoy
our campfire.
Since we only had three days, the group chose an easy route that took
us through four lakes with just two portages. I discovered with
pleasure the lightness of kevlar compared to aluminum when I hoisted a
canoe and carried it myself up and down a hill.
It was on the second day out that we entered the fire zone, a dramatic
contrast to the healthy forest a few steps behind us on the portage
path. The fire had been fueled by miles of dead trees that were felled
in a massive 1999 windstorm and, despite years of prescribed burning to
reduce fire risk near the Gunflint Trail, July’s Cavity Lake fire was
the “big one” that forestry officials had been dreading for seven
years.
After an hour of canoeing through a stark landscape, we found a
campsite that was still mostly green. Yet as I sat on a rock
overlooking miles of devastation, my attempts at optimistic thoughts
of, “This is how the forest regenerates,” and “We need fire to create
new life,” were drowned in sadness. I couldn’t help comparing the scene
around me to J.R.R. Tolkien’s bleak landscape of Mordor.
But then I began to notice the spring-green shoots of aspen, birch,
ferns and grass that were already coming up out of the ashes. I saw,
for the first time, the spectacular white stones anchoring the points
and islands. The rocks, like the lakes, are reminders of the glaciers
that carved out the BWCA so long ago.
Camping in a burn zone was a forceful reminder that nature is its own
force and does not exist solely for human entertainment.
It was on our final evening that a pile of the big white stones
provided a majestic perch for viewing the unspoiled night sky. We
spread out across the rocks watching first the bright blaze of
thousands of stars and then, in wonder, the Aurora Borealis.
It was my first time seeing the Northern Lights and I was enraptured by
the hours-long display of quivering, changing, blue and pink lights
that spread out first in vertical stripes and then in a horizontal
plain over the horizon. Three of my friends spent the night on the rock
in their sleeping bags but, wary of mosquitos, I chose the tent.
(Unlike my previous trips, however, the bugs were barely noticeable on
this visit, possibly because of the fire).
Sunday morning we were up before dawn for a quick breakfast and to
break camp. Two hours of paddling later, we’d left the burn zone behind
and reached our exit point. After one last swim we were back in the car
for another excruciatingly long drive. We were tired, dirty, a little
sore and absolutely content.
And we’re already talking about next year.
I sat on a huge white rock that sloped down towards the lapping blue
water. So far, so good. But then I lifted my gaze to the land across
the lake, where a 34-mile wildfire had burned itself out only two weeks
before.
Instead of the crowded green hues of Superior National Forest, I saw
burnt-orange desolation. Huge chunks of earth were lifted out of the
ground, revealing the complex root systems of charred trees that had
crashed down. The perfume of pines was replaced by the smell of one
tremendous campfire.
This was not the Boundary Waters I knew and loved.
News of the Cavity Lake fire, set off by lightning on July 14, never
trickled down to my friends and me. As the fire raged, we sat
blissfully unaware in a stifling Rogers Park apartment and planned our
three-day canoe trip into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA).
However, despite the surprise challenge of two days camping and
canoeing in a fire zone, the Boundary Waters charmed me once more on
this, my third, visit.
The BWCA is a one-million acre wilderness preserve that stretches
between Ontario and northern Minnesota. Each year thousands of campers
canoe along 1,200 miles of water trails, portaging their canoes and
packs across land bridges that connect hundreds of lakes and rivers.
Yet despite its many visitors, the BWCA looks much as it did when the
French Voyageurs paddled their fur-heaped canoes through the waterways.
These days, primitive campsites feature a firepit, grate and pit
latrine shielded only by trees. Hikers must pack out everything they
pack in to keep the land untouched. The water is clear, the fishing
plentiful and the forests teem with life.
One trip five years ago, I slipped away from my group and took a canoe
out alone in the magical, still moments just after sunset. As my oars
flashed through a lake of glowing glass, beavers splashed on either
side of me and a loon called eerily.
On Aug. 16, the six of us drove 12 hours to the northeastern tip of
Minnesota and arrived at sunset in Grand Marais, a charming town built
along Lake Superior. After a quick dinner at the unabashedly kitschy
Sven and Ole’s pizzeria (one offering, “Da Vild Vun,” comes topped with
wild rice), we drove up the Gunflint Trail until we were just a lake
away from Canada. There we draped our sleeping bags over a rented cabin
floor and enjoyed the convenience of indoor plumbing for one more
night.
The next morning we pulled our canoes into Saganaga Lake and were off.
Only we weren’t. Not with a bolt of speed, anyway. One of the pleasures
of a canoe trip is that you are forced to slow down to the steady,
splashing pace of paddling. Conversation among our lively bunch of
young adults also slowed down as we consulted our map and entered the
wilderness.
Our first turn was a wrong turn (compass and map skills are a must in
the BWCA) but it was a serendipitous mistake, because we spotted a bald
eagle flying low towards a nearby island, shrieking. We quietly pulled
up alongside the island to see three adult bald eagles and one
youngster perched among the trees and rocks.
After lunch on an obliging island, we catapulted into the water for
swimming. Our afternoon paddle was a hard pull against a strong
headwind, so we were happy that evening to pitch our tents and enjoy
our campfire.
Since we only had three days, the group chose an easy route that took
us through four lakes with just two portages. I discovered with
pleasure the lightness of kevlar compared to aluminum when I hoisted a
canoe and carried it myself up and down a hill.
It was on the second day out that we entered the fire zone, a dramatic
contrast to the healthy forest a few steps behind us on the portage
path. The fire had been fueled by miles of dead trees that were felled
in a massive 1999 windstorm and, despite years of prescribed burning to
reduce fire risk near the Gunflint Trail, July’s Cavity Lake fire was
the “big one” that forestry officials had been dreading for seven
years.
After an hour of canoeing through a stark landscape, we found a
campsite that was still mostly green. Yet as I sat on a rock
overlooking miles of devastation, my attempts at optimistic thoughts
of, “This is how the forest regenerates,” and “We need fire to create
new life,” were drowned in sadness. I couldn’t help comparing the scene
around me to J.R.R. Tolkien’s bleak landscape of Mordor.
But then I began to notice the spring-green shoots of aspen, birch,
ferns and grass that were already coming up out of the ashes. I saw,
for the first time, the spectacular white stones anchoring the points
and islands. The rocks, like the lakes, are reminders of the glaciers
that carved out the BWCA so long ago.
Camping in a burn zone was a forceful reminder that nature is its own
force and does not exist solely for human entertainment.
It was on our final evening that a pile of the big white stones
provided a majestic perch for viewing the unspoiled night sky. We
spread out across the rocks watching first the bright blaze of
thousands of stars and then, in wonder, the Aurora Borealis.
It was my first time seeing the Northern Lights and I was enraptured by
the hours-long display of quivering, changing, blue and pink lights
that spread out first in vertical stripes and then in a horizontal
plain over the horizon. Three of my friends spent the night on the rock
in their sleeping bags but, wary of mosquitos, I chose the tent.
(Unlike my previous trips, however, the bugs were barely noticeable on
this visit, possibly because of the fire).
Sunday morning we were up before dawn for a quick breakfast and to
break camp. Two hours of paddling later, we’d left the burn zone behind
and reached our exit point. After one last swim we were back in the car
for another excruciatingly long drive. We were tired, dirty, a little
sore and absolutely content.
And we’re already talking about next year.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
An Irreverent Site that Cracks Me Up
It should be clear to all that this is satire. But in just in case you didn't get the message .... this is SATIRE!
http://www.datetosave.com/
Be sure to check out the 10 Tips for Missionary Dating.
http://www.datetosave.com/
Be sure to check out the 10 Tips for Missionary Dating.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Dog Days
It's hot. And humid. And my tomato plants are dead. I am grieving.
However, I had a lovely time tonight at Ravinia Music Festival with Ellena. We saw Jorge Federico Osorio (I think that's his name) playing Mozart piano concertos with the CSO. It was gorgeous music.
Then Ellena and I went to Cosi's for dinner.
Before that, Sara and I scrubbed out the fridge and cabinets in preparation for our new roommate Erica. I love how pretty the fridge is when it's all gleaming and organized. But there were some *scary* things in there. Mostly from Trudy ... or at least we said they were her scary things because she wasn't here to take the blame!
Before that, I had lunch with pals at Pita Inn. Gourmet falafel sandwich for the win! Before that was church.
Last night, Kathy and Alex invited me over for dinner. It was yummy! Then we went to Lighthouse Beach and swam in cool Lake Michigan as the stars came out. There are times when Evanston really does sound idyllic.
And before that, Laura and I spent a great Saturday afternoon dodging the heat--first with Greek food in the air-conditioned Cross-Rhodes cafe, then panting before fans in my apartment watching "Hope Springs" (not recommended, despite the presence of Colin Firth).
I think I ate out too much this weekend. But it was fun. And air-conditioned.
However, I had a lovely time tonight at Ravinia Music Festival with Ellena. We saw Jorge Federico Osorio (I think that's his name) playing Mozart piano concertos with the CSO. It was gorgeous music.
Then Ellena and I went to Cosi's for dinner.
Before that, Sara and I scrubbed out the fridge and cabinets in preparation for our new roommate Erica. I love how pretty the fridge is when it's all gleaming and organized. But there were some *scary* things in there. Mostly from Trudy ... or at least we said they were her scary things because she wasn't here to take the blame!
Before that, I had lunch with pals at Pita Inn. Gourmet falafel sandwich for the win! Before that was church.
Last night, Kathy and Alex invited me over for dinner. It was yummy! Then we went to Lighthouse Beach and swam in cool Lake Michigan as the stars came out. There are times when Evanston really does sound idyllic.
And before that, Laura and I spent a great Saturday afternoon dodging the heat--first with Greek food in the air-conditioned Cross-Rhodes cafe, then panting before fans in my apartment watching "Hope Springs" (not recommended, despite the presence of Colin Firth).
I think I ate out too much this weekend. But it was fun. And air-conditioned.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Photos from family time in northern Minnesota
Who can resist a sleeping puppy? Even when he decides that your legs make a perfect pillow (Note the bruises on my arms from water tubing with Jack and Anthony).
Friday, July 14, 2006
A day in Chicago with Rhianna and Baby Emilia
This picture is blurred but it's just so darn cute! Rhianna and Emilia pause before Picasso's mother and child.
Monday, July 10, 2006
1,800 Miles (and Chicago, too!)
I just got back from a very cool vacation. I was afraid it would be totally stressful and not fun ... but it was not stressful at all AND it was super fun!
Here's the short summary:
1. 6/30-7/2: I hosted the lovely Rhianna and her beatiful baby Emilia Noelle (age 4 months) for two days in the fun summerland of Chicago (photos coming).
2. 7/2: I drove 4.5 hours to the northeastern tip of Wisconsin to speak to 35 junior high girls at Lake Lundgren Bible Camp (www.llbc.org). I got there in time to join the girls and my good friend Margaret, the program director, for night games.
3. 7/3: I spent 14 hours hanging out with the girls. I also gave two hour-long talks, one on daily prayer and one on abandoning your life to God's will. The talks went very well and were so much fun to give, especially since I enlivened them with power points showing applicable photos and quotes. Since I also did the activities along with the girls and got to know them a bit, I think God made what I had to say a lot more powerful than they would have been otherwise. However, I was totally exhausted at the end of that day! I don't know how Margaret and the others do it for a whole week.
4. 7/4: I got up at 7:30 a.m. and drove 5.5 hours across the stunningly beautiful landscape of northern Wisconsin. My little two-lane highway took me through many small towns, all of them gussied up with flags for July 4. As I wended my way through pine forests, I even saw a bald eagle soaring above me. Talk about perfect. Halfway through the state, I headed down to catch I-94 into the Twin Cities.
I went first to visit Sonja and Rich and their new house in south Minneapolis AND I got to meet the adorable Luna Marie (age 3.5 months). Why are all of my college friends suddenly having baby girls? Anyway, Sonja and I played with Luna and I gave her a bottle and she fell asleep on me. Then Sonja and I went to Izzy's (www.izzysicecream.com) for incomparable ice cream and I bought Luna an infant-sized Izzy's tee, very appropriate for one of her parentage.
Then I headed to Sarah's apartment in St. Paul, from where we went off to the Taste of Minnesota and July 4 festivities held on Harriet Island in the middle of the Mississippi. We got to see the Beach Boys perform (with a couple original members, though not Brian Wilson) and we ate lots of Minnesota fried-food-on-a-stick, including pickle pups. (Follow this link to an amazing post by some blogger about both the Beach Boys ... well, sort of ... and pickle pups, though I warn you that it is PG-13 http://blogs.citypages.com/dcody/2006/07/cream_pickle_pu.asp). The night ended with fireworks over the St. Paul skyline, as viewed from an island in the middle of the Mississippi River. Well, actually, the night ended with the hourlong crunch to get OFF the island along with thousands of other people, most of them complaining.
7/5 part I: I had intended to leave Sarah's place at 9 a.m. but I was so tuckered out by now and her couch was so darn comfortable and her air-conditioned-apartment so luxurious that I didn't even wake UP until 10:30. But after a leisurely morning with sweet Sarah I headed on another drive, this one 3.5 hours to northern Minnesota and the family cabin on Howard Lake, between Walker and Akeley in the Northwoods (more specifically, Chippewa National Forest). Howard Lake is one of many, many smaller lakes surrounding the massive Leech Lake, Minnesota's 3rd-biggest lake. And trust me, MN has some gigantic lakes. Out of all 13, 492. http://www.leech-lake.com/
7/5 part II-7/8: I actually saw firsthand how huge Leech Lake is because I got to go up in a 1948 sea plane! This was just one of the many highlights of spending three glorious days on Howard Lake surrounded by my fantastic, if slightly crazy, family. The cabin belongs to Aunt Mary and Uncle Tim, although for years before that it belonged to Aunt Becky and Uncle Bob. But all four aunts and uncles were there, plus cousins Jack (17) and Anthony (19), plus Aunt Lisa plus Grandma Pat. It was a squeeze but it was delightful. There were two speedboats, two kayaks, a fishing boat, Tim's new 4-wheeler and tons of other toys. I did some great water skiing, even if I took some spectacular spills as Becky remembered how to tow a skiier and I remembered how to ski; went tubing (and have the bruises to prove it, esp. as I tubed alongside Anthony and Jack who are pretty crazy out there); I went kayaking; I went swimming, even though the sunnies and the blue gills in the shallow ends like to nibble on humans; Becky taught me how to drive a boat; I took Tim's ATV out on the old forest logging trails; I went up in neighbor "Pink Pants" Jack's sea plane, along with Anthony and Jack, on a very windy day and we saw the glory of the Northwoods from the air; I read an entire novel in three sittings; I slept a whole lot; I laughed a whole lot; I spent precious time with my crazy and inimitable family. It was absolutely perfect.
7/8 part II: I drove 3.5 hours back to the Twin Cities in the splendid company of Grandma Pat and got to hear how her family ended up in International Falls, MN, where Grandma (and her mother, Beth Young--1894-1993--) was born. Grandma then took me and older half-brother Shane out to dinner at Axel's and pampered us with fine wine and steaks. I stayed that night at Becky's house, collapsing gratefully into the first real bed I'd seen in a long while.
7/9: I woke up with an extremely stiff neck, most likely as a consequence of one Saturday's water-skiing wipeouts. It was worth the pain, though, and Becky did her darndest to pamper me, forcing me to accept massages and ibuprofen tablets and ice packs and time in the hot tub. That morning, all of the cabin people came over to Becky and Bob's house for a generous brunch, and we were also joined by Shane, cousin Ryan and his girlfriend Katie, and Gus! Gus is Ryan and Katie's new puppy and is an 8-week-old puggle. Gus is adorable. It was love at first sight for me and I was quite gratified when, during a rowdy game of Catchphrase, Gus clambered onto the sofa to be with Ryan and then, spying my lap, made a beeline for my folded legs and fell asleep on me.
At 2 p.m. I finally dragged myself away from the pampering aunts as two of them made me a gigantic lunch and another rubbed my neck. Surrounded by cousins and Shane and lots of hugs all around from aunts, uncles and, of course, Grandma, I made my way out to my car at last and sadly got in. I made the 7 hour drive back to Chicago and was kept company by the audio recording Bill Bryson's "In a Sunburnt Country" and my new favorite CD, "This Life" by Jocelyn Scofield (www.jocelynscofield.com)
And now all that is left is the laundry and the memories. *sigh*
Here's the short summary:
1. 6/30-7/2: I hosted the lovely Rhianna and her beatiful baby Emilia Noelle (age 4 months) for two days in the fun summerland of Chicago (photos coming).
2. 7/2: I drove 4.5 hours to the northeastern tip of Wisconsin to speak to 35 junior high girls at Lake Lundgren Bible Camp (www.llbc.org). I got there in time to join the girls and my good friend Margaret, the program director, for night games.
3. 7/3: I spent 14 hours hanging out with the girls. I also gave two hour-long talks, one on daily prayer and one on abandoning your life to God's will. The talks went very well and were so much fun to give, especially since I enlivened them with power points showing applicable photos and quotes. Since I also did the activities along with the girls and got to know them a bit, I think God made what I had to say a lot more powerful than they would have been otherwise. However, I was totally exhausted at the end of that day! I don't know how Margaret and the others do it for a whole week.
4. 7/4: I got up at 7:30 a.m. and drove 5.5 hours across the stunningly beautiful landscape of northern Wisconsin. My little two-lane highway took me through many small towns, all of them gussied up with flags for July 4. As I wended my way through pine forests, I even saw a bald eagle soaring above me. Talk about perfect. Halfway through the state, I headed down to catch I-94 into the Twin Cities.
I went first to visit Sonja and Rich and their new house in south Minneapolis AND I got to meet the adorable Luna Marie (age 3.5 months). Why are all of my college friends suddenly having baby girls? Anyway, Sonja and I played with Luna and I gave her a bottle and she fell asleep on me. Then Sonja and I went to Izzy's (www.izzysicecream.com) for incomparable ice cream and I bought Luna an infant-sized Izzy's tee, very appropriate for one of her parentage.
Then I headed to Sarah's apartment in St. Paul, from where we went off to the Taste of Minnesota and July 4 festivities held on Harriet Island in the middle of the Mississippi. We got to see the Beach Boys perform (with a couple original members, though not Brian Wilson) and we ate lots of Minnesota fried-food-on-a-stick, including pickle pups. (Follow this link to an amazing post by some blogger about both the Beach Boys ... well, sort of ... and pickle pups, though I warn you that it is PG-13 http://blogs.citypages.com/dcody/2006/07/cream_pickle_pu.asp). The night ended with fireworks over the St. Paul skyline, as viewed from an island in the middle of the Mississippi River. Well, actually, the night ended with the hourlong crunch to get OFF the island along with thousands of other people, most of them complaining.
7/5 part I: I had intended to leave Sarah's place at 9 a.m. but I was so tuckered out by now and her couch was so darn comfortable and her air-conditioned-apartment so luxurious that I didn't even wake UP until 10:30. But after a leisurely morning with sweet Sarah I headed on another drive, this one 3.5 hours to northern Minnesota and the family cabin on Howard Lake, between Walker and Akeley in the Northwoods (more specifically, Chippewa National Forest). Howard Lake is one of many, many smaller lakes surrounding the massive Leech Lake, Minnesota's 3rd-biggest lake. And trust me, MN has some gigantic lakes. Out of all 13, 492. http://www.leech-lake.com/
7/5 part II-7/8: I actually saw firsthand how huge Leech Lake is because I got to go up in a 1948 sea plane! This was just one of the many highlights of spending three glorious days on Howard Lake surrounded by my fantastic, if slightly crazy, family. The cabin belongs to Aunt Mary and Uncle Tim, although for years before that it belonged to Aunt Becky and Uncle Bob. But all four aunts and uncles were there, plus cousins Jack (17) and Anthony (19), plus Aunt Lisa plus Grandma Pat. It was a squeeze but it was delightful. There were two speedboats, two kayaks, a fishing boat, Tim's new 4-wheeler and tons of other toys. I did some great water skiing, even if I took some spectacular spills as Becky remembered how to tow a skiier and I remembered how to ski; went tubing (and have the bruises to prove it, esp. as I tubed alongside Anthony and Jack who are pretty crazy out there); I went kayaking; I went swimming, even though the sunnies and the blue gills in the shallow ends like to nibble on humans; Becky taught me how to drive a boat; I took Tim's ATV out on the old forest logging trails; I went up in neighbor "Pink Pants" Jack's sea plane, along with Anthony and Jack, on a very windy day and we saw the glory of the Northwoods from the air; I read an entire novel in three sittings; I slept a whole lot; I laughed a whole lot; I spent precious time with my crazy and inimitable family. It was absolutely perfect.
7/8 part II: I drove 3.5 hours back to the Twin Cities in the splendid company of Grandma Pat and got to hear how her family ended up in International Falls, MN, where Grandma (and her mother, Beth Young--1894-1993--) was born. Grandma then took me and older half-brother Shane out to dinner at Axel's and pampered us with fine wine and steaks. I stayed that night at Becky's house, collapsing gratefully into the first real bed I'd seen in a long while.
7/9: I woke up with an extremely stiff neck, most likely as a consequence of one Saturday's water-skiing wipeouts. It was worth the pain, though, and Becky did her darndest to pamper me, forcing me to accept massages and ibuprofen tablets and ice packs and time in the hot tub. That morning, all of the cabin people came over to Becky and Bob's house for a generous brunch, and we were also joined by Shane, cousin Ryan and his girlfriend Katie, and Gus! Gus is Ryan and Katie's new puppy and is an 8-week-old puggle. Gus is adorable. It was love at first sight for me and I was quite gratified when, during a rowdy game of Catchphrase, Gus clambered onto the sofa to be with Ryan and then, spying my lap, made a beeline for my folded legs and fell asleep on me.
At 2 p.m. I finally dragged myself away from the pampering aunts as two of them made me a gigantic lunch and another rubbed my neck. Surrounded by cousins and Shane and lots of hugs all around from aunts, uncles and, of course, Grandma, I made my way out to my car at last and sadly got in. I made the 7 hour drive back to Chicago and was kept company by the audio recording Bill Bryson's "In a Sunburnt Country" and my new favorite CD, "This Life" by Jocelyn Scofield (www.jocelynscofield.com)
And now all that is left is the laundry and the memories. *sigh*
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Jenna and Me
Here I am with my lovely cousin Jenna, age 19 (sorry guys, she's taken).
It's always something of a risk taking photos with Jenna, since she is stunningly beautiful. Now, now, I'm not fishing for compliments here. No need to flood this post with reassuring remarks about my own pulchritude. But Jenna really is gorgeous. This is not even a very flattering photo of her. But I like it because you can see some resemblance between the two of us.
Jenna and I have so much fun together. I am 8 years older than she and one of my favorite photos of all time is me holding this tiny little pink bundle in the hospital. I remember that day. I also remember helping my aunt with Jenna's first birthday party. But right after that, we moved to AZ, leaving Jenna and her soon-to-be-born brother Jack behind in MN.
I got reacquainted with Jenna & Jack (who's 17) when I started college. They were 10 and 8 then and Jenna had a great love of garter snakes. (As she demonstrated at the family cottage in Door County's Washington Island). It was so fun getting to know them as I was at school in St. Paul.
Jenna called me the other day from her job as a nanny for her little step-nephew in Boston. We had a blast talking together. It's hard for me to remember the age difference between us. Not only is Jenna beautiful, but she is a marvelous, compassionate, reflective woman with a strong heart to serve God. As we giggled together and then shared serious stuff, I was struck by a thought.
"Jenna," I said, "I'm so glad we're related. I feel so lucky!"
And, my dear cousin, if you are reading this, know that I still am glad we are related and look forward to knowing you better and better as our adult lives progress. :)
P.S. This photo was taken in the hotel room where all of my extended family--both sides--was gathered the night before my brother's wedding. Great hilarity ensued in that tiny room. Maybe I'll post some of those photos another time.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Don't Hit My Car!
Ah, the joys of city living and street parking.
From my bedroom window I can watch the cars come and go. And parallel park. Or attempt to parallel park.
Now, I am not the world's best parallel parker but some people are SO bad!!! I am watching this woman in a little black car trying to get into a huge space. She has been working on it the whole time I have been typing and she is STILL working on it.
I am watching because my car is behind hers and I'm cringing each time she gets a little too close. I often watch other people hit my car, though it's usually just a little nudge (or a "bumper kiss" as one friend called it) and that's OK, because sometimes you have to nudge the other car just a tad in a tight space. But yesterday as I came out the door I saw a lady parking who hit my car with quite some force. I groaned and headed for my car. When she saw me come out the door and realize where I was going, she sat in her car so she wouldn't have to say anything to me (I imagine--that's what I would have done). But no damage was done.
At last! The lady has finally parked her car, after about 20 tries. There are a good four feet on either end of the bumpers. Good thing she's not trying to park in Rogers Park!
From my bedroom window I can watch the cars come and go. And parallel park. Or attempt to parallel park.
Now, I am not the world's best parallel parker but some people are SO bad!!! I am watching this woman in a little black car trying to get into a huge space. She has been working on it the whole time I have been typing and she is STILL working on it.
I am watching because my car is behind hers and I'm cringing each time she gets a little too close. I often watch other people hit my car, though it's usually just a little nudge (or a "bumper kiss" as one friend called it) and that's OK, because sometimes you have to nudge the other car just a tad in a tight space. But yesterday as I came out the door I saw a lady parking who hit my car with quite some force. I groaned and headed for my car. When she saw me come out the door and realize where I was going, she sat in her car so she wouldn't have to say anything to me (I imagine--that's what I would have done). But no damage was done.
At last! The lady has finally parked her car, after about 20 tries. There are a good four feet on either end of the bumpers. Good thing she's not trying to park in Rogers Park!
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Cruise Ship Romance
Sometimes my job has extra perks.
No, I'm not talking about prime seats to the live broadcast of Prairie Home Companion at Ravinia Festival last weekend (though that was pretty cool). Nor am I talking about the gourmet food I get to eat (because some of it, to be honest, is not so tasty--though most of it is).
I'm talking about the back stories. The ones that don't make it into the newspaper. For example, last week I interviewed Fred and Sheryl. Fred and Sheryl have been married for 44 years. They have two sons, four grandchildren and live in a lovely neighborhood with flowing ponds, rosebushes and resident swans.
I interviewed Fred and Sheryl for a health story. But as Fred was in the other room with the photographer, Sheryl and I started talking about how the two of them met. Here's the story, as best as I remember it (a journalist's disclaimer: there may be errors and the quotes are not word for word):
It was the early 1960s. Sheryl, who grew up in Brooklyn, had just graduated from college with a degree in teaching. Her friends had started their new jobs, but since Sheryl's job didn't started until the fall, she was at loose ends. She decided to take a summer vacation before entering the adult world.
"At first I thought I'd go up to the Catskills," Sheryl said. "But my friend, a travel agent, told me that would be no fun by myself because everyone would be off playing tennis and golf. So he suggested I take a cruise down to Nassau."
Cruises in those days, Sheryl explained, weren't like they are today--floating resorts with stops in numerous ports of call.
"It was a weeklong cruise but all we did was sail down for three days, spend one day in port, and sail back for three days. And we didn't have all of those things to do on the boat that you do nowadays, either."
Sheryl's friend told her she wasn't likely to meet many other young people on this cruise, but she thought she'd have a nice time anyway, so she booked it. As she was boarding, a young man held the door for her.
"I didn't even look at him because I thought he was so young," Sheryl said. "He looked like he was about 18 or something."
However, that young man was three years older than her. Fred had taken the cruise with a buddy of his. Unfortunately, as soon as they got underway, the buddy promptly got seasick. So seasick that he spent the first few days below.
In fact, the weather was bad, and almost the entire passenger list was seasick. Sheryl soon met another young man, one who had been drafted and was about to go overseas, and since neither of them were ill, they walked around the deck chatting. Fred wasn't sick, either, and he was lounging dolefully on his deck chair when Sheryl and her escort walked by.
"I'll never forget what he said," Sheryl remembered. "He said, 'What? More humans?'"
"Well, I hadn't seen anyone else for so long," Fred explained. Fred started walking on the other side of Sheryl and, before long, the other guy (whose name Sheryl can't even remember now) was out of the picture.
Fred booked a deck chair for Sheryl right next to his. It soon developed that there were about 20 young people on board and they quickly became the social center of the ship. On their one day in Nassau they all bought drums and maraccas, Sheryl, said, and came back on board and started their own little band.
When the ship pulled back into New York City on a Saturday morning, Fred asked Sheryl for her number and said he'd call her. He even suggested that they could get together that evening, though he lived in Queens and she in Brooklyn.
"I went home and sat by the telephone," Sheryl said. "But do you know what? He didn't call. At 2 p.m. I started to get a little nervous. By 7 I was crying and telling my father, 'I should have known it was just a shipboard romance."
At 9 that night, Fred finally called.
"I fell asleep," Fred said. "I slept right through the day."
After he explained, Sheryl forgave him. They went out for the first time the following evening, and the rest is history.
No, I'm not talking about prime seats to the live broadcast of Prairie Home Companion at Ravinia Festival last weekend (though that was pretty cool). Nor am I talking about the gourmet food I get to eat (because some of it, to be honest, is not so tasty--though most of it is).
I'm talking about the back stories. The ones that don't make it into the newspaper. For example, last week I interviewed Fred and Sheryl. Fred and Sheryl have been married for 44 years. They have two sons, four grandchildren and live in a lovely neighborhood with flowing ponds, rosebushes and resident swans.
I interviewed Fred and Sheryl for a health story. But as Fred was in the other room with the photographer, Sheryl and I started talking about how the two of them met. Here's the story, as best as I remember it (a journalist's disclaimer: there may be errors and the quotes are not word for word):
It was the early 1960s. Sheryl, who grew up in Brooklyn, had just graduated from college with a degree in teaching. Her friends had started their new jobs, but since Sheryl's job didn't started until the fall, she was at loose ends. She decided to take a summer vacation before entering the adult world.
"At first I thought I'd go up to the Catskills," Sheryl said. "But my friend, a travel agent, told me that would be no fun by myself because everyone would be off playing tennis and golf. So he suggested I take a cruise down to Nassau."
Cruises in those days, Sheryl explained, weren't like they are today--floating resorts with stops in numerous ports of call.
"It was a weeklong cruise but all we did was sail down for three days, spend one day in port, and sail back for three days. And we didn't have all of those things to do on the boat that you do nowadays, either."
Sheryl's friend told her she wasn't likely to meet many other young people on this cruise, but she thought she'd have a nice time anyway, so she booked it. As she was boarding, a young man held the door for her.
"I didn't even look at him because I thought he was so young," Sheryl said. "He looked like he was about 18 or something."
However, that young man was three years older than her. Fred had taken the cruise with a buddy of his. Unfortunately, as soon as they got underway, the buddy promptly got seasick. So seasick that he spent the first few days below.
In fact, the weather was bad, and almost the entire passenger list was seasick. Sheryl soon met another young man, one who had been drafted and was about to go overseas, and since neither of them were ill, they walked around the deck chatting. Fred wasn't sick, either, and he was lounging dolefully on his deck chair when Sheryl and her escort walked by.
"I'll never forget what he said," Sheryl remembered. "He said, 'What? More humans?'"
"Well, I hadn't seen anyone else for so long," Fred explained. Fred started walking on the other side of Sheryl and, before long, the other guy (whose name Sheryl can't even remember now) was out of the picture.
Fred booked a deck chair for Sheryl right next to his. It soon developed that there were about 20 young people on board and they quickly became the social center of the ship. On their one day in Nassau they all bought drums and maraccas, Sheryl, said, and came back on board and started their own little band.
When the ship pulled back into New York City on a Saturday morning, Fred asked Sheryl for her number and said he'd call her. He even suggested that they could get together that evening, though he lived in Queens and she in Brooklyn.
"I went home and sat by the telephone," Sheryl said. "But do you know what? He didn't call. At 2 p.m. I started to get a little nervous. By 7 I was crying and telling my father, 'I should have known it was just a shipboard romance."
At 9 that night, Fred finally called.
"I fell asleep," Fred said. "I slept right through the day."
After he explained, Sheryl forgave him. They went out for the first time the following evening, and the rest is history.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Here is the award-winning Vineyard soccer team!
Well, OK, maybe we are not exactly award-winning. And actually, we had just lost a game before this photo was taken. However, we lost by an amazing, unstoppable goal that the other team scored in the last 20 seconds of the game, so we didn't feel too bad about ourselves.
Our team (headed by Cap'n Andy--holding the soccer ball) actually finished near the top of the standings, I think. Or maybe in the middle. We weren't at the bottom! The problem is that our first playoff game was scheduled smack dab in the middle of a wedding that almost everybody on the team attended. So we had to forfeit. There are plans in the works for another team next fall, however. And instead of playing on the purely recreational level, we'll be playing one level up on a (gulp) full-size field.
I played only three or four of our games, but I loved every minute of it (even it was during my first game that I discovered--the hard way--that I now have asthma). One of my favorite moments was running into the mud puddle everyone else was avoiding to retrieve the soccer ball and kicking it out, despite the flying mud that covered me from the knees down. Another favorite moment was facing down a giant opponent who had the ball and blocking him so he couldn't advance, as all of the guys on our team, standing on the sidelines, cheered wildly.
I hope next season to actually learn some ball-handling skills (or relearn them). That way I'll be able to do more than just be a pesky distraction.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Strawberry Fields Forever!
Here are the various strawberry-related foods I ate yesterday while working on a food story:
1. Strawberries whole
2. Strawberries sliced
3. Strawberry bruschetta
4. Strawberry-BBQ chicken
5. Strawberry salad with arugula, goat cheese and pine nuts
6. Roasted vegetables, chicken and strawberries
7. Minced garlic spread with bits of strawberries inside (on fresh Italian bread)
8. Strawberry cannoli
I was also offered a strawberry margarita. But I was working!
Can anyone guess what the theme of the food story is? (For a hint, go here: http://www.longgroveonline.com/strawberry.html)
1. Strawberries whole
2. Strawberries sliced
3. Strawberry bruschetta
4. Strawberry-BBQ chicken
5. Strawberry salad with arugula, goat cheese and pine nuts
6. Roasted vegetables, chicken and strawberries
7. Minced garlic spread with bits of strawberries inside (on fresh Italian bread)
8. Strawberry cannoli
I was also offered a strawberry margarita. But I was working!
Can anyone guess what the theme of the food story is? (For a hint, go here: http://www.longgroveonline.com/strawberry.html)
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
From Kathy and Alex
Both of my buddies have posted similar lists on their blogs. They have inspired me.
Things that were true of me five years ago that are no longer true:
1. I was 22 and had been a college graduate for one week.
2. I was living in Minnesota through the end of summer but expected to spend 2003-2004 as a missionary to orphans in Guatemala.
3. I had deferred grad school for Guatemala and expected to begin at NU on June 11, 2004. (As it happened, God would gently but persisently tell me not to go to Guatemala but to start at Medill-Northwestern in June 2002. I graduated with my M.S.J. in June 2003).
4. I was a server at Baker's Square.
5. I didn't really understand the workings of the Holy Spirit.
6. I had never seen a person be physically healed.
7. I thought it somehow "unfaithful" to desire to a physical experience of God's presence.
8. I did not have a group of peers within my church community.
9. I lived two miles from my grandparents and within minutes of a drove of aunts, uncles and cousins.
10. I drove Emily, a 1984 brown Chevy cavalier station wagon.
11. I did not know how to drive a stick.
12. I had no paid journalism experience.
13. I had never been to Oregon or North Carolina.
14. I didn't know I had an older half-brother named Shane.
15. I didn't have a cell phone and certainly didn't talk to my mom everyday.
16. I lived in an on-campus apartment and wasn't allowed to burn candles at home. (But I did it anyway).
17. I owned no furniture.
This is kind of a boring list compared to the others. I suppose all that God has done in me and through me can't be easily quantified in a list. That's all right, though. I'm a writer, not a list maker, and I will save those stories for another day.
Things that were true of me five years ago that are no longer true:
1. I was 22 and had been a college graduate for one week.
2. I was living in Minnesota through the end of summer but expected to spend 2003-2004 as a missionary to orphans in Guatemala.
3. I had deferred grad school for Guatemala and expected to begin at NU on June 11, 2004. (As it happened, God would gently but persisently tell me not to go to Guatemala but to start at Medill-Northwestern in June 2002. I graduated with my M.S.J. in June 2003).
4. I was a server at Baker's Square.
5. I didn't really understand the workings of the Holy Spirit.
6. I had never seen a person be physically healed.
7. I thought it somehow "unfaithful" to desire to a physical experience of God's presence.
8. I did not have a group of peers within my church community.
9. I lived two miles from my grandparents and within minutes of a drove of aunts, uncles and cousins.
10. I drove Emily, a 1984 brown Chevy cavalier station wagon.
11. I did not know how to drive a stick.
12. I had no paid journalism experience.
13. I had never been to Oregon or North Carolina.
14. I didn't know I had an older half-brother named Shane.
15. I didn't have a cell phone and certainly didn't talk to my mom everyday.
16. I lived in an on-campus apartment and wasn't allowed to burn candles at home. (But I did it anyway).
17. I owned no furniture.
This is kind of a boring list compared to the others. I suppose all that God has done in me and through me can't be easily quantified in a list. That's all right, though. I'm a writer, not a list maker, and I will save those stories for another day.
Monday, May 08, 2006
The Dress!!!
Long ago, back during the hot summer months, I featured a pic of the lovely bridesmaid dress I would wear at my brother Peter's wedding. And here I am wearing the dress! The wedding was on February 18. It was lovely to bare my shoulders to the Tucson sun while my unfortunate friends back in Chicago were shivering in sub-zero temperatures.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Crack Corn and Procrastination
Why is it that when we have something to do, even something we like to do, even something that will make us a lot of money with very little effort, we can't do it?
For example, I have to write a press release tonight. Easy peasy. 100 smackeroos (well, after I send it out). But here I sit listening to my roommates cheer as they watch the Stanley Cup semifinals and eating crack corn.
Crack corn: A sweet treat that resembles Cap'n Crunch cereal covered with caramel. Called "sweet corn puffs" or something along those lines and made by the Arizona Snack Co. Renamed "Crack Corn" by family friends because it's really hard to quit eating it once you start.
Obviously, crack corn is only available in AZ. So when I was home last weekend to meet my newly discovered older-brother Shane (who was also visiting AZ since he lives in Minneapolis) we had lots of family time that involved board games, card games and crack corn. As Grandma and Grandpa were taking us to the airport, Shane had the brilliant idea of stopping at the store to stock up on crack corn. Yet we didn't know the real name for it, so you can imagine us asking the clerk, "Uh, do you have crack corn?" But we found it and I bought two bags. I also got my other favorite AZ product: Poore Brothers Salt & Vinegar chips. Yumm.....I had the chips at dinner. (But in the last two days I played--and helped win--an entire soccer game without any sub, went on a bike ride and played two sets of tennis. Nothing wrong with a little junk food reward).
The other exciting thing about tonight is that my roomies are watching hockey on CABLE! Our apartment supposedly came with cable but it's never worked and we never bothered about it. Tonight, though, Trudy was flipping channels when she started screeching, "ESPN! Animal Planet! TBS!"
Sara and I jumped on the couch with her and soon the air was redolent with cries of, "Comedy Central! We can watch the Daily Show!" and "No way! VH1!" and "Yes! Cartoon Network!" and, all three of us exclaiming together, "The Weather Channel!!!!!"
I'm not a TV person, but I have to admit there's something cozy about me sitting in my little reading corner and hearing the hum of the TV and contented housemates behind me. I am happy.
And now, off to the press release.
For example, I have to write a press release tonight. Easy peasy. 100 smackeroos (well, after I send it out). But here I sit listening to my roommates cheer as they watch the Stanley Cup semifinals and eating crack corn.
Crack corn: A sweet treat that resembles Cap'n Crunch cereal covered with caramel. Called "sweet corn puffs" or something along those lines and made by the Arizona Snack Co. Renamed "Crack Corn" by family friends because it's really hard to quit eating it once you start.
Obviously, crack corn is only available in AZ. So when I was home last weekend to meet my newly discovered older-brother Shane (who was also visiting AZ since he lives in Minneapolis) we had lots of family time that involved board games, card games and crack corn. As Grandma and Grandpa were taking us to the airport, Shane had the brilliant idea of stopping at the store to stock up on crack corn. Yet we didn't know the real name for it, so you can imagine us asking the clerk, "Uh, do you have crack corn?" But we found it and I bought two bags. I also got my other favorite AZ product: Poore Brothers Salt & Vinegar chips. Yumm.....I had the chips at dinner. (But in the last two days I played--and helped win--an entire soccer game without any sub, went on a bike ride and played two sets of tennis. Nothing wrong with a little junk food reward).
The other exciting thing about tonight is that my roomies are watching hockey on CABLE! Our apartment supposedly came with cable but it's never worked and we never bothered about it. Tonight, though, Trudy was flipping channels when she started screeching, "ESPN! Animal Planet! TBS!"
Sara and I jumped on the couch with her and soon the air was redolent with cries of, "Comedy Central! We can watch the Daily Show!" and "No way! VH1!" and "Yes! Cartoon Network!" and, all three of us exclaiming together, "The Weather Channel!!!!!"
I'm not a TV person, but I have to admit there's something cozy about me sitting in my little reading corner and hearing the hum of the TV and contented housemates behind me. I am happy.
And now, off to the press release.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
I'm back!
For now, anyway.
I've been fiddling with this blog for awhile now tonight. I changed the template twice before deciding I liked the old one best. Then I added some new links, including a link to my first magazine story. "Dying with Dignity," a long piece on hospice and palliative care, appeared in the January issue of North Shore magazine. However, North Shore has apparently made it so I can't link to their site from here. Ah, well. I put up a few newspaper stories I'm particularly proud of. I recommend "Ending Life on a Good Note."
I'm going home to AZ this weekend! I will meet Shane, hang out with Mom and Dad and Riga and Peter and Melissa and Grandma and Grandpa and ... most importantly ... see mountains! No, wait. The most important thing is that I will eat unbelievable Mexican food.
Dad might have to spend all day and all night working on May 1, since his Mexican employees at the McDonalds restaurants he supervises will probably be rallying. If I were going to be home longer, I would offer to work with him. It's been six years since I finally managed to quit the McD habit--successfully, that is. Of course, graduating from college and getting a full-time job had something to do with it.
I've been fiddling with this blog for awhile now tonight. I changed the template twice before deciding I liked the old one best. Then I added some new links, including a link to my first magazine story. "Dying with Dignity," a long piece on hospice and palliative care, appeared in the January issue of North Shore magazine. However, North Shore has apparently made it so I can't link to their site from here. Ah, well. I put up a few newspaper stories I'm particularly proud of. I recommend "Ending Life on a Good Note."
I'm going home to AZ this weekend! I will meet Shane, hang out with Mom and Dad and Riga and Peter and Melissa and Grandma and Grandpa and ... most importantly ... see mountains! No, wait. The most important thing is that I will eat unbelievable Mexican food.
Dad might have to spend all day and all night working on May 1, since his Mexican employees at the McDonalds restaurants he supervises will probably be rallying. If I were going to be home longer, I would offer to work with him. It's been six years since I finally managed to quit the McD habit--successfully, that is. Of course, graduating from college and getting a full-time job had something to do with it.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Blogging for the Win!
Kathy (http://adeeperlife.blogspot.com/) yelled at me for not blogging anymore. Or, actually, she said, in mournful tones, "So, have you given up on the whole blogging thing?"
Here are the reasons why I haven't blogged lately:
1. two moves
2. psycho paranoid crystal-meth smoking roommate
3. new boyfriend
4. anaphylaxis and ER trip
5. allergy attacks, migraines and a seemingly unending series of viruses
6. discovery of new brother
7. break up with aforementioned boyfriend
8. established brother gets married in different state
9. craziness at work
But, here I am. Blogging. And it's all for you, Kathy!
Here are the reasons why I haven't blogged lately:
1. two moves
2. psycho paranoid crystal-meth smoking roommate
3. new boyfriend
4. anaphylaxis and ER trip
5. allergy attacks, migraines and a seemingly unending series of viruses
6. discovery of new brother
7. break up with aforementioned boyfriend
8. established brother gets married in different state
9. craziness at work
But, here I am. Blogging. And it's all for you, Kathy!
Friday, January 27, 2006
I should be going to work right now. But I was home sick all day yesterday, and I after I went to Pilates I knew I needed to come home and sleep a bit longer this morning before going into work. This cold has got me so exhausted all of the time. I'm ready to be healthy again!
I am staring out my front window at the Catholic school across the street, through the wavy old-fashioned glass (I don't know how old the windows are, but the house is 103 years old). It looks like the sun might be coming out again today. At least it's been sunny the last 3 or 4 days. This has been the weirdest Chicago January ever. After a bitterly cold December, we've had temperatures in the 30s-50s all January. With almost no snow. I like the sunshine but the unnaturally warm weather is kind of eerie, especially since our drought from summer has been just getting worse with the lack of snow.
I haven't really got anything exciting to write about here. I'm going to drive to Indianapolis tomorrow to celebrate my best friend Carmen's birthday with her. She'll be 27. That's 15 years of being best friends!!!
And Melissa, my other longtime best friend, (I became friends with her just a couple of months after getting to know Carmen) has at long last returned from Russia and other foreign parts and is making a new home in San Diego. Now THAT'S someone I have to go visit. Apparently her new place is just up the street from the beach.
I am staring out my front window at the Catholic school across the street, through the wavy old-fashioned glass (I don't know how old the windows are, but the house is 103 years old). It looks like the sun might be coming out again today. At least it's been sunny the last 3 or 4 days. This has been the weirdest Chicago January ever. After a bitterly cold December, we've had temperatures in the 30s-50s all January. With almost no snow. I like the sunshine but the unnaturally warm weather is kind of eerie, especially since our drought from summer has been just getting worse with the lack of snow.
I haven't really got anything exciting to write about here. I'm going to drive to Indianapolis tomorrow to celebrate my best friend Carmen's birthday with her. She'll be 27. That's 15 years of being best friends!!!
And Melissa, my other longtime best friend, (I became friends with her just a couple of months after getting to know Carmen) has at long last returned from Russia and other foreign parts and is making a new home in San Diego. Now THAT'S someone I have to go visit. Apparently her new place is just up the street from the beach.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
I am not allergic to food!!!
That is a relief. Because I really didn't want to give up nuts, or garlic, or dairy, or lettuce, or malt, or any of the other dozens of food allergens Dr. Ricaurte tested me for today.
I visited the allergist after my scary anaphylactic reaction on Saturday night (picture me, in the middle of a fancy dinner dance, flat on my back next to the coat rack, covered in hives and with frighteningly-swollen Angelina Jolie lips, shaking uncontrollably, as paramedics bent over me and eventually took me to ER where I was given a host of drugs and recovered).
So we don't know what caused the reaction. It may have been the cold virus I had, or the exercise, or the chemicals on my new dress, or a combination of two or three. Plus I was super-stressed. Unfortunately, as Dr. Ricaurte said, my body has now learned to react in "an inappropriate manner."
So now I am on more drugs until my body learns its lesson. And I have to carry around the gigantic Epi-Pen (a shot of life-saving epinephrine should this occur again).
I visited the allergist after my scary anaphylactic reaction on Saturday night (picture me, in the middle of a fancy dinner dance, flat on my back next to the coat rack, covered in hives and with frighteningly-swollen Angelina Jolie lips, shaking uncontrollably, as paramedics bent over me and eventually took me to ER where I was given a host of drugs and recovered).
So we don't know what caused the reaction. It may have been the cold virus I had, or the exercise, or the chemicals on my new dress, or a combination of two or three. Plus I was super-stressed. Unfortunately, as Dr. Ricaurte said, my body has now learned to react in "an inappropriate manner."
So now I am on more drugs until my body learns its lesson. And I have to carry around the gigantic Epi-Pen (a shot of life-saving epinephrine should this occur again).
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