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Well hello there friends -

I am not about to beat around the bush on this one, no way, no how.  What do you think?  Do you like it? I hope so, because I really, really do.

After all of that writing about it, I decided that if I am a Writer (notice me embracing that capital W), I better start acting like one.  Step one, business cards.  Super duper lovely and ever-so-Colleen style business cards.  Many, many thanks to Marty of Bartleby’s Letterpress Emporium (how perfect that the shop shares the name, though certainly not the demeanor of one of my favorite literary figures, too).  Ever so kind, patient (if you hadn’t noticed, I am a bit fussy), and supportive, not to mention her phenomenal talent with a letterpress brought this girl to tears, even though I promised her I wouldn’t.  Not a bad promise to break, if one must, after all.  They turned out exactly how I imagined they would:  the heavy cotton, that beautiful texture, our our humble red roofed abode (drawn by me).  They are perfect.  By the by, if you live here in Stumptown and love fine paper goods, do pay her a visit.  Her printed cards are exquisite, really.  The shop is just a charming place to wander, too.

Okay, getting to the second step now, full speed ahead.  I will also be attending the Willamette Writers Conference in August where I hope to wow someone into representing me.  So, for the next month, I will be polishing  my manuscript, honing my elevator speech, typing up dazzling query letters, and generally believing that I can do this.  You know what the wonderful part is?  I am not afraid.  I am ready.  I am worthy.  I am talented.  I am a good writer and a terrific person.  Why wouldn’t someone want to represent me?  Okay, I just ventured into Jack Handey territory, but that’s okay too.  I am among friends!

So, a start.  I hope you will join me on my journey.

Two bits of deliciousness for you this morning, pizza and cake.  I read an article on pizza in one of the fancy food magazines.  It was rather long and somewhat interesting and highlighted a small town back east that has two very famous pizza joints that have been there a terribly long time.  I guess there is quite an either/or dichotomy going on.  You aren’t, apparently, allowed to like the pizza at both places.  I have to say that I abhor (strong word, I know) rules like this.  I don’t like being told whether or not I should have certain feelings.  This is not up to other people.  It is up to me.  Anyway, as I was reading, I had this rather cinematic a-ha moment.  She and Him was playing in the background and I swear Zooey Deschanel hit a high note when I read this sentence: Let the pizza dough rise for twenty-four hours.

I don’t know how many of you make your own thin crust pizza and wondered why it just isn’t as good as those places in the article, or for the hubster and I, Lombardi’s in Manhattan, and Grimaldi’s at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge.  I am savvy in the kitchen, but ever since taking a bite of that gooey, chewy deliciousness on an idyllic summer day, I was pretty stumped.  The crust never tasted as good as theirs, never had that wonderful texture.  Then that sentence jumped off the page, and I had it.  The secret wasn’t in the yeast or the flour or the water.  It was all about time.  Give it time. So, the day before you want your pizza, make your favorite dough.  Punch it down the next morning and let it rise again, until the oven is smoking hot (we put ours at 500) and your ingredients are ready.  Then wait for the magic moment when you slide that bad boy out of the oven and you take your first bite.  Heaven.

Though we didn’t follow our pizza with dessert – we were too full of cheese for that, I am following my thoughts on it with this delicious upside down cake.  There is a restaurant in town, which shall remain nameless, that actually has the gall to put instant butterscotch pudding as the brown sugar and butter layer.  Words cannot describe the horror of my first bite.  This is not cake; it is a travesty.  This recipe is the real deal, and, to be honest, it is probably easier and cheaper than buying that instant stuff, seriously.  You can make it with pineapple, peaches, apricots, nectarines, plums, or apples.  It’s really hard to go wrong.

Fruity Upside Down Cake

adapted from the Better Homes and Gardens Cook Book, 75th Anniversary Edition

2 tablespoons butter

1/3 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon water

Enough fruit to cover the bottom of the pan – I used two sliced nectarines and three maraschino cherries

1/2 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup all purpose flour

1/3 cup sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

2/3 cup milk

1/4 cup butter, grated with the small holes of a cheese grater

1 egg, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350.  Melt two tablespoons of butter and 1/3 cup brown sugar in a small saucepan.  Add the water and stir until combined.  Pour into an ungreased 8″ square pan. Carefully arrange your fruit in a pretty pattern over the syrup.

In a medium mixing bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, and baking powder.  Add the milk, butter, egg, and vanilla.  Stir until combined.  Spoon the batter over the fruit in the prepared pan.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cool for five minutes.  Run a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen, and invert onto a plate.  This is best served warm.

Enjoy!

p.s.

When I called the hubster down to have some cake, he said, “Wow!  That’s pretty.  Did you take a picture?”  This coming from the guy who likes to tease, “Um can I eat, or do I have to wait for the camera?”

I’m feeling pretty grateful Under a Red Roof today.  I received some super kind comments about yesterday’s post,  was treated to an awesome early birthday lunch at Stickers, one of my favorite places, by Petra, my friend, boss, and naturopath extraordinaire.  I received a super sweet card and gift subscription to Sunset Magazine from the best and most hardworking financial adviser we could ask for, Sean Stansfield (call him – he’s terrific!), and am loving our new fly through bird feeder with the help of my favorite Backyard Birdshop employee, Laura.  It is clearly a day for soaking up the love and caring of the generous people in my life.  Thanks everybody – your sweet ways go straight to my heart!

Add to that, the veritable cherry on the top, last night we went to our first square dance, or at least first square dance since being the age of single digits some thirty years ago, that is.  As you can see from all of the smiling, it was mighty fun, too.  A come, as you are affair, minutes from home, we twirled, stomped, did more than one do-si-do, held hands, laughed, whooped, and hollered more than I can ever recall.  We can’t wait to put on our Western wear duds and do it again.

Many thanks to the mighty talented Rabbit Foot String Band, Paul Silveria and his fine and instructive calling, and all the friendly, happy dancers, especially Etienne and the really tall guy who kept us all on track.  We’ll be seeing you!

Well friends, I have what is surely the last of the peony photos this year and a broken record alert!  Aren’t they pretty?  Aren’t they pretty?  Well they are, and these two smell quite lovely, too.  Yes, yes they do.  We also managed to get two dry days in a row to enjoy them, but the clouds are rolling in, and I’m pretty sure that means Mr. Rain will be up to his old tricks in no time, which is okay.  The little break of sun was enough to tide me over until next time.

I have no clever segue way to what comes next.  I’ve been thinking a lot about what it is that I want and how to get it.  I came to a conclusion that probably should have been obvious, but wasn’t, but now that I’ve made it, I feel as though I’ve been hit over the head with a hammer in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.  Yet, instead of stars, I am seeing what I do with greater clarity than ever before.

I have never called myself a writer.  I have always said, “I’ve written a book,” or “I’ write a blog.”  In some ways, I didn’t want to pigeon-hole myself in the “I am not what I do” way because I feel I am so much more than a single word.  I also didn’t think I deserved the title of Writer without being published.  Yet, in this way, I believe I have been selling myself short, for who will believe I am a writer, especially one who is worthy of publication, if I don’t?  It also diminished my work, made it less important.  Well, dang it, it IS important, even if only to me.

So, a change.  A “this is it” moment:  I, Colleen Sohn, am a writer.  Gosh, I got weepy typing that last sentence.  I am a writer.  I wrote a novel that I hope to get published one day.  I write a blog.  I write poems.  I dream up worlds.  Words dance in my mind and through my finger tips.  They are alive, just like me and you.

That felt good.  Thanks for reading.  I love sharing my writing with you!

Einstein famously said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.  This path and the surrounding area are a perfect example of his definition.  For the first eight years in our house, the hubster and I weeded and weeded it (I even spent a few weeks digging up ALL of the weeds, only to have the majority return the next year – heartbreaker), planted grass seed, watered, fertilized, and mowed, but got the same result.  More weeds, more ugly, more mowing, and a whole lotta cursing.

Then, only after being, ostensibly, whacked over the head by a giant imaginary hoe, we got sane and tried something new.  We planted a tree and two yellow flowering currants (friends of the birds and bees!), followed by a whopping sixty kinnikinnick plants.  Slowly but surely, the area and our feelings for it began to transform.  There was an increasing amount of green and shade.  We no longer had to fertilize, water, or mow, leaving more time for more fruitful projects.

This included moving some pieces of stone from another spot in the garden and watching a path emerge (though it is still a little wobbly).  Then there were more new ideas.  The placement of stumps, the moving of hostas, and the purchase and planting of more than a dozen native plants: strawberries, huckleberries, and bitter cherry trees.  No longer an eye sore, it is a pleasure to gaze upon it, as I often do now, from a perch in the bedroom.  I look at it and feel grateful for the shade, the clean, cool air wafting through the window, the sweet berries I’ll eat one day, and the blessed sanity of changing one’s path.

Another, equally satisfying title to this post could be Yum, or Perfection.  Indeedy.  Chocolate and Cherries are hard to beat.  Something else that is hard to beat is sensibility.  If you’ve been reading for a while, you know how I wrestle with sugar, or, at least, how I have wrestled with it.  I am bad, weak, unhealthy, (insert other appropriate adjective), for eating the stuff.  I spent a lot of time on it, A LOT.  Many hours that, no doubt, added up to days of my life fretting about my consumption of sugar and how I really needed to let it go and be a better, stronger person.  Heavens to mergatroid was it ever taxing, and to what end?  Did I ever actually stop eating sugar?  Not for any extended period of time.  Did I ever feel better about myself for being my own persona non grata every time I consumed it?  Certainly not.  It was just ugly self-flagellation.

So now, in hopes of being kinder and gentler to my whole self, not just the parts that I’ve idealized, I’m going to eat it and do my darndest not to criticize or second guess myself for it.  If I so desire, I’m going to bake a cake, have a slice, and REALLY enjoy it (well, if it tastes good – I do have standards).  I don’t want to halfway enjoy it while simultaneously beating myself up for not being strong enough to say no or whatever.  I am laughing at myself as I type this!  How silly and schizophrenic I have been.  Life is meant to be enjoyed.

So, to the cake.  I call it zippy because it comes together very quickly and the sauce cooks while the cake bakes, so you can eat it warm from the oven.  I love that – impatience and deliciousness in one go.  I can’t remember where I first saw a recipe like this, maybe the Moosewood Cookbook?  It is vegan, moist, and delicious.  And, since this is the kind of gal I have become, I used whole wheat flour in place of some of the all purpose.  If I can make it a little healthier while still being utterly yummy, I’m going for it.

Zippy Chocolate Cake

1 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup all purpose flour

1/3 cup cocoa powder

1/2 cup sugar (So sorry!  I left this out the first time.)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 cup cold water or coffee

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Preheat oven to 375.  Grease an 8″ square pan.  Sift dry ingredients together in a large bowl.  Combine wet ingredients.  Mix wet and dry together quickly until smooth.  Pour into prepared pan.  Bake 25 – 30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.  If you use the whole wheat flour, this may take longer.  It’s okay.

Serve plain or with fruit sauce (raspberry, peach, blueberry, strawberry, or plum would be good, too!).  I used my recipe included with pancakes, here.  It is also good frosted or sprinkled with powdered sugar, and eaten out of hand.

Enjoy!

Meet my new favorite moisturizer.  Yes, I’m serious!

I have come to believe, no matter how crazy I may seem in saying so, that simple and natural are best.  I am no longer swayed by promises or pretty packaging (nothing like a gallon bucket to prove that point!) but rather common sense.  Does it make sense to slather my body in heaven knows what kind of chemicals to keep my skin from aging?  With coconut oil, I don’t have to wonder.  This bucket of goodness contains exactly one ingredient, grown organically to protect not only the earth, but the farmers and their families bringing it to me.  There are absolutely no surprises like strange colors, potentially harmful preservatives, or perfumes, save the one Mother Nature provided.  So, if I accidentally get some in my mouth, I’m not left with some awful taste or an upset tummy.  What’s more, I can literally eat it (and do – it’s delicious and good for you!).  I wouldn’t dare do that with any conventional lotion, no way, no how.  Which is kind of crazy, really.

The best part is that it really is a terrific moisturizer.  It is light, rubs in easily without feeling greasy, and, because I am not actually keen on smelling like a beach all day, the scent of coconut doesn’t linger.  You can’t beat the price either, $37 for a GALLON that will last me and the hubster up to two years.  Unlike other conventional moisturizers, it is quite multi-purpose, too.  I use it head to toe – hair (a wonderful conditioner), face, lips, body, hands, and feet.   It’s pretty terrific on the hubster’s very sensitive skin, I might add – literally the only moisturizer he’s ever tried that doesn’t irritate his skin.  Now that’s saying something.

If you decide to try it, you’ll find it at the supermarket (you may have to look in the health food section) with olive oils and such.  It comes in a peanut butter size jar and costs about $10.  Try to buy organic and unrefined, as refining heats the oil and diminishes it’s healing properties.  As well, coconut oil is solid at temperatures under 74 degrees.  If your house is cold, like mine, you’ll need some sort of spreader to scrape off what you need (a little goes a long way), but also know that it will get very mushy (nearly liquid but not quite) in the summer or in warm places.  If you find that you really like it and want to take the gallon plunge like we did, we bought ours from the awesome Mountain Rose Herbs.  I cannot praise this company enough.  They have great values, a great product selection, and great customer service.

Hello my friends!

Gosh, it feels so good to be back in blogland!  Now if I could just be in the land of the fully mobile and conscious, that would be grand.  I am not complaining, however.  I feel better with each passing day, requiring smaller doses of narcotics to keep the pain down, while gaining more strength and mobility.  When I first got home, I was popping pills like crazy and had to use my walker (remember that?) every time I wanted to go anywhere, though my trips were mostly limited between our bed and the bathroom.  Going all the way to the kitchen was considered a big feat!

Now, I only need the walker about half of the time,  moving  quite freely on the first floor of the house.  I don’t know when I will muster up the strength to go upstairs, but, thanks to my superstar hubster and guest blogger, I have practically everything I need in our bedroom: a borrowed air conditioner for this hellish weather (107 today, ugh), a boom box, television, lap top, watercolors, books, and snacks!   It’s pretty darn cool, pun intended.

Endometriosis

Since a lot of people have asked questions about the endometriosis that led me to my surgery and this cozy bedroom lair, I thought I’d give a little information about it, and why it was causing so much trouble for me.  In a nutshell, endometriosis is when tissue from inside the uterus migrates elsewhere in the pelvic cavity (no one knows why, when, or how).  It is problematic because it has hormones and a monthly period just like the uterus, only it can’t exit the body like a normal period does, so it stays inside a woman’s abdomen, where it creates adhesions, like scar tissue.  Think about it like this – you spill something on the counter without cleaning it up right away.  When you return in a few hours, you touch the spot and your hand sticks to it, and sometimes even creates a kind of gooey, taffy-like bond.  Only with endometriosis, you can’t wash it off.  The taffy just spreads, connecting tissue and organs that have no business being such close neighbors, and, at least in my case, causing some pretty intense pain.

This is why my surgery could not be completed laparoscopically, and I had to be opened up.  My insides were so thoroughly bound and twisted with taffy-like adhesions that my doctor needed to get inside and carefully cut everything apart.  Thankfully, she was able to do so.  In the process, she removed my uterus (complete with a large adenomyoma), my fist-sized right ovary, both fallopian tubes, as many adhesions as she could, and then zapped the remaining visible endometriosis with a really good laser.  It’s no wonder it took over six hours!

Waves

Being in the hospital was a very emotional experience for me, like I was out at sea and riding a series of waves to shore, to home, and with each wave came a different emotion: gratitude, release, sadness, disbelief, joy, and wonder.  Gratitude -  I survived my surgery.  I was alive, and the healing process was underway.  Release – I am a pretty independent person, but in this situation, I had to, quite literally, hand my body over to strangers.  They fed me, clothed me, bathed me, all with great kindness, compassion, and respect.  Sadness – Even though I had never wanted children, I felt sad that this definitively left that choice out of my hands, though I guess it never really was.   I am not driving this bus!  Disbelief – For my recovery, I was placed in the Family Birthing Center, as the staff there would best know how to treat someone in my condition.  Perhaps this seems a logical choice for someone who has already had children, but for me, it seemed a bit, well, odd.  The lady who can never have children, infertile Myrtle, chockablock with mothers and babies?  This same feeling of disbelief, however, was replaced by Joy – To be in the most precious place in a hospital, to witness those first days of life, the first tiny cries, each beautiful babe swaddled, hatted, and loved by all.  Finally Wonder – There is so much kindness in the world, so many talented people doing their best work, so much love, and I am a living, breathing part of it all.

Thank You

Now it is time for some shout-outs.  First and foremost, to my amazing husband.  Through our eighteen years of  my increasing pain and suffering, he has always been a source of great love and support.  I could not imagine a better partner or friend, no siree Bob.  During my hospital stay, it was the hours he was there that I felt most safe.  Listening to him type away on his laptop or hearing his whispers in the dark, it was almost as if I were home and not hooked to a catheter, pulse oximeter, and an IV.  I was free.

My fantastic doctors.  First, to Petra Caruso, Naturopathic MD.  One of the most kind and compassionate health care professionals I have ever had the privilege to meet, she has been on this journey with me for nearly two years, constantly striving to find new, healthy solutions to make my life more comfortable.  When she realized our options had been exhausted, she recommended my awesome specialist, Dr. Liz Newhall.  Oh goodness, I am ever so pleased to have found her way while on my own.  She is an amazingly talented woman, highly educated in her craft of women’s health, with a heart and humor to match.  After my surgery, when I asked her how bad it was, and she told me that it was one of the worst cases she’d seen in her thirty years of practice, she said, “You would have won a blue ribbon at the fair, no doubt about it.”

YOU, the people of cyberspace, across the street, across town, across the world.  Thank you so much for your prayers, kind thoughts, cards, meals, visits, everything.  I felt and continue to feel so bouyed by all the love being sent my way, so incredibly grateful to be alive!

Patio Time

Patio Time

Hi all! Colleen was discharged from the hospital yeserday, July 25th. As much relief as I feel having her home I am also extremely grateful for her experience in the hospital. It is absolutely fascinating to see how fast the body heals and changes.

I can’t help but be amazed, grateful, and not just a little shocked at all the external “hook-ups” that had to be connected to Colleen during this time:

  • Catheter – Well, we all have to pee don’t we? (no pun intended!)
  • “Pain Pump” – This particular device delivered morphine directly to the abdomen. I can’t really give many more details about this one since none of the nurses knew how to use it!
  • Blood Monitor – A very strange light connected to the end of Colleen’s finger, this was responsible for measuring the amount of oxygen her blood was carrying around. Effectively, this monitored how she was breathing.
  • Oxygen tube- As a result of the blood monitor going off, additional oxygen was needed for proper breathing, particular during periods of sleep. You know, the little tube under the nose…
  • IV – Ahh, the “intake tube” we’ve all seen in the movies.  I don’t really know how to describe seeing somebody not needing to eat real food and having everything (including medication) delivered ‘on-demand’. “Convenient”, “scary”, “miraculous”, “bizarre”… I could go on and on, but this is certainly one of the most critical components to Colleen being ok, for sure.

Needless to say, I am so happy to see her up and walking around and not needing one of the previously mentioned connections.  I know she has a long way to go before she is 100%, but what she has been through has been fairly eye-opening to me in my little software writing world.

Hematocrit Levels

(Grain of salt warning: I may have the numbers wrong here, but I don’t think so…) We were slightly worried that she wouldn’t be able to come home because of her “Hematocrit Level“. 38% is about average for a woman. Fortunately, thanks to Colleen, her level was about at 42% when she went in to surgery. After surgery it was about 28%… Then 25%… Then 22%…   So, this was the piece that made me nervous during recovery!   Her last test went back up to 25! Yippie!  The doctor told us that this can fluctuate quite a bit due to various factors – drugs, hydration, etc… so a particular number is not critical. Since this can mean internal bleeding, however, it is critical that this number stabilize. Seeing it stabilize was crucial.  I suspect she will have another test before week’s out, but it looks good!

Thanks

I don’t really know what else to say besides “thank you”.  Thanks to everybody who has had a kind word for Colleen, sent a flower, or just had a moment of contemplation about how really valuable the people around you are.

P.S. I probably won’t post as much as I will be quite short on time come tomorrow.  I am hopeful, however, that Colleen will be back to her bloggin self in no time!


Mount Hood is always a good photo to play with

Mount Hood is always a good photo to play with

Colleen and I are often “accused” of having rose colored glasses on. It used to be something I felt guilty for, as if I didn’t have a grasp on reality. I now view this ‘trait’ as something to embrace since there are many events in life beyond my control.  Sometimes the only thing I do have the ability to shape is my view. Colleen is fond of saying “I’m not driving this bus”, and I agree.

A shift in perspective can be a powerful thing. As I look back over the past year and a half, it has been a little bit of a roller coaster and I thought I would share some of my hospital reflecting…

Colleen’s Surgery

This was a fairly serious body change for Colleen and obviously at the forefront of our lives at the moment. With the amount of endometriosis, it is probably one of the more invasive hysterectomies that a person can have.  (Actually, the hysterectomy was a small part of the procedure.  Think trying to free up taffy growing inside you that has been twisting your organs for 20+ years.)

With glasses: I have a lot of hope that Colleen will feel a good sense of freedom from the abdominal issues that she has suffered with. After all, the whole point is of all this is to make things better than they are now.  I’m hopeful she will enjoy her time in Colorado without having to worry about serious cramping and pain this September. From a “me” perspective, the event has been a great chance to be able to help someone I love who can’t help herself.  It is a great gift to be able to make a difference in her recovery and feel that much closer to her.

Job Changing/Economic “crisis”

I have changed positions three times in the last year, gone from having a large chunk of vacation to having to fight to get a chance to help Colleen for a day or two, and taken a fairly significant financial hit.

With glasses:I now work for a functional company with people I enjoy being around. My commute is smaller. I am not making as much and not as able to save as much, but a good portion of the 401k savings went up in smoke anyway!    My work is much more varied now and I really enjoy this variety.  My boss and colleagues are pleasant and I feel a strong desire to truly help the company I work for grow and improve.  I find myself very content and intrigued with the possibilities that the future holds.

It is certainly not always easy to find a positive perspective on perceived ‘bad’ situations but I have enjoyed the challenge and awareness that comes from the search.

I think I will put my glasses on now and rest near my lovely wife as she does some healing…

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