As  spring turned to summer, my interests started blossoming. I’m sure you guys  have heard about our trip to D.C. and then to California. I’d have to say my  favorite part of D.C. was… the White House? No. The fancy hotel?  That was great, but no. The bee? Not really.

My favorite part was the restaurants we went to. I’ve been reading cookbooks  for a long time, but the food we ate there really inspired me. San Francisco  was full of World Markets and Farmers’ Markets, and I began to see some of the  crazy foods I’d read about. Medjool dates? Yup. Moussaka? You bet. When we  returned home, my family and I started making lots of different foods and Dad  and I even lived off what wild greens and berries we could pick in our yard one  day. I’m not a picky kid anymore, and I’ve even become somewhat of a food snob.  I don’t like storebought white eggs ( our chicken lays very good ones), local  hormone-free milk is really growing on me, white bread is not my bread of  choice, I prefer homemade jelly (OK, that’s  VERY snobby) and pale storebought cucumber is not my thing.

At home I’ve  been coming up with recipes like Celery and Mushroom Omelet and Baby’s First  Batch of Pretzels. As I enjoyed the bounty of summer (pears are a personal  favorite), the school year slowly crept onto the horizon. When I went back, my  healthier way of eating followed me. Organic cereals, whole-grain products,  healthy oils and local vegetables are  an  everyday part of what I eat. I’m definitely not perfect (far from it), but I  feel like I’ve jumped one of the barriers of childhood: pickiness. Okay, stewed  mushy greens still don’t appetize me. You get the picture.

But I’ve noticed that most kids have not really jumped this barrier yet. I’m wondering if they ever  will. Yes, I’ve heard about the obesity epidemic. I’m not as worried about that  as I am that kids will still be picky when they grow up. Chicken tenders, hot  dogs and Oreos are in a cherished position for many kids, and I don’t really  see them being given up. And that’s okay. It just seems that kids eat them every day.

I’m also worried about breakfast. When you walk down the cereal  aisle at the grocery store, what do you see? Oat bran, raisin bran, Special  K.  “Fruit-flavored” cereals. “Chocolatey  “ cereals. “Fortified” cereals. Fortified is fine, but fruit-flavored and stuff  are a little worrisome. I don’t think they are a very good breakfast all by  themselves. But they ARE heavily advertised. Ever seen a commercial for Oat  Bran? I haven’t.

Well, I could only think of one thing to do about all this  crazy stuff people eat. Please don’t groan: a book. I haven’t decided on the  name yet, but the book is definitely taking shape. Of course I have a different approach on all this in the book,  because the book is written not to the adults but to the kids.  Here’s a brief excerpt:

Have you ever noticed how much candy that’s available in the grocery store? From peanut butter cups to caramel
bars, people are always tempted by something sugary. But there’s more than chocolate  and caramel in the dessert world. In summertime, homegrown strawberries and  cream is a delight, and so is blackberry-peach cobbler. My all-time favorite is
a handful of black raspberries with some vanilla ice cream. Winter desserts include dried pitted dates, homemade nut cookies, sweet breads and the  occasional cup of hot cocoa. On those rainy Saturdays when you’re just bored, try asking your mom if she’d like to bake some cookies with you. Or if you have  a recipe in mind, ask her at the store for any of the ingredients you don’t
have. My mom and I have perfected our recipe for nut macaroons, and  they’re really flexible. Or, if you’re not in  a cookie mood (I am always in a cookie mood even though they’re a sometimes food), you and your family can make your own granola. There’s a lot of delicious desserts for each time of year, and maybe one that can ride with you in your lunchbox. Check out some of our recipes for cobblers, granola and cookies galore- but you won’t find any king-sized candy bars.

So there’s a little taste of the book, which won’t be coming out for a while. So, remember: The blog is back in action and could feature some recipes. Could.  Okay, will.

Shayley

Shayley unfortunately got very sick again last night, so maybe it wasn’t all nerves on Saturday. She’s feeling better this afternoon and eating crackers and jello.

Yesterday afternoon we enjoyed looking up “The Gaylord National Hotel,” where the National Bee will be. Looks pretty fancy, which will be interesting for Shayley to experience. Thankfully The Roanoke Times is paying for the hotel and travel expenses!

Shayley asked me Saturday evening what her study strategy should be now. I have no idea, other than what the Spelling coach did to help Akeelah in the movie Akeelah and the Bee.

The spelling bee website has a count-down calendar. It’s 73 days and 53 minutes until the National Bee–presumably how much time there is to prepare.

I’d rather just enjoy the view.

Lydeana

Yesterday was to be a big day for us. Shayley was to represent Floyd County in the Regional Spelling Bee in Roanoke,

sponsored by The Roanoke Times and a Scripps Howard qualifying bee for the National Bee.

When Shayley first heard of the National Spelling Bee a couple years ago, it had become her goal to get there. Even when she won her school bee and the County bee,  I had tried to keep her expectations in check since this was her first year (Shayley’s in 5th grade and students up through 8th grade can compete in the bees.) We planned a trip to Krispy Kreme to see donuts made right after the regional bee, regardless of the outcome. She loves cooking and pondering foods, AND eating donuts.

There was a 15 page study guide of words, about a third of which I couldn’t pronounce. When I stumbled, she would laugh and say she needed a better spelling coach (think Laurence Fishburn in Akeelah and the Bee.) But,we knew that was just a guide and other words could be thrown in from the competition (any of nearly 500,000 words in the Webster’s Third New International Dictionary.)

Shayley got a confidence building from her teacher, Alice Hardin, Friday night just before bed. She slept well, except for the dream where she got knocked out in the first round of the regional bee. I, too, had a bee nightmare, dreaming that I overslept and caused us to miss the whole thing.

When Shayley came downstairs Saturday morning, I was making her favorite breakfast of chocolate-chip pancakes. But then she said she didn’t feel so good. She had a lot of congestion, plus she’s prone to acid-reflux trouble, so I was hoping it was those, compounded by nerves and that they would fade away as she got ready. But, no, she spent the entire morning nauseated on the couch, watching the clock knowing we needed to leave by 8:30. It was terrible. We prayed for calm, health and clarity. She vomited at least 3 times at home, and got sicker when she’d stand. Charlie had her sniffing peppermint and trying to drink mint tea. I gave her an antacid when she liked to never swallowed. It didn’t help. At 8:30, though, she said she was ready to walk to the car. Yep, sick again.

It continued. We pulled off in Riner, once right on I-81, once at the rest-area, and once along 581. We carried the pan into the Holiday Inn where we headed straight to the bathroom. She emerged feeling some better. I took the plastic bag out of the pan, left the pan under a bench in the restroom, and put the bag in my purse just in case. We walked into the competition room.

It was great to see by brother Martin, his wife Vicky and our friend Terry Belcher there! We sat down on the front row so Shayley didn’t have to walk very far. Charlie got her some water. She was anxious for the bee to get started. Finally they welcomed everyone and called the contestants out in the order they would spell. Shayley was first. This was good, it meant she would sit closest to the microphones and not have as far to walk. At this point, I was just hoping she would not vomit or pass out on stage, since she hadn’t had the first bite to eat all day and it was 10 a.m.

They did a practice round. The judges said they couldn’t hear Shayley and that she’d have to speak up.

Then it finally began. After she would spell a word, she would look relaxed. I scoped out the competition, assuming that the older kids were likely the toughest competition. They came in every size, shape and color.  A couple were out in the first round. Before you know it, they were down to 8 (from 18, I think) and the pronouncer called for a break. Shayley stepped down and said to us, “This is kind of fun.” Wow. Wow.

She drink a little water and had  a couple bits of pastries they had there, but she said it was too sweet and she didn’t want to risk getting sick again.

They called them up to began again. New words began to be called that hadn’t been on the spelling list. Spellers were knocked out quickly now. It came down to Shayley and a boy from Covington and had been featured in Dan Casey’s Roanoke Times column as one of the two spellers returning from last year’s regional bee.

Before I knew it, he had missed a word. Since Shayley was the first speller of each round, that meant just one word stood between her and a expenses-paid trip to the National Spelling Bee in Washington DC. The pronouncer said the word. I had never heard it. I was trying to think how I might spell it and Shayley was busy asking for definition and language of origin. Some other spellers had done this routinely through out, but she had known the previous words. I knew this meant she wasn’t familiar with the word either and was buying time to think it out. The word was “homuncular.” (I had to look it up just now to see how to spell it!) It means an abnormally small person, though not a dwarf.  

After she spelled it, I didn’t know if it was right, so I was watching the judge. “Correct,” she said. I couldn’t believe it. I was SO happy for Shayley.  Shayley showed almost no visible expression of joy on her face (she explained to me later than she didn’t want to seem to be gloating while the other spellers were still present.) After the ceremony, the Roanoke Times reporter interviewed her and finally one presenter asked her if she was happy. Without smiling, she said yes.

After everyone else was gone, we collected our pan from the restroom. Charlie called his dad and then his brother in Utah. We headed to Krispy Kreme, and the smiles finally emerged. Ah, the sweet taste of victory.

Gratefully,

Lydeana

When I woke up this morning, later that I usually get up during the week, I was tired. Really tired. Didn’t want to move tired. I’ve been this way in the morning for a few weeks. Charlie was already downstairs studying. In the steady silence of the room, my mind slipped down the well-worn groove of wondering if the cancer could be back, robbing me of energy.

I’ve had that conscious thought less frequently since my scan in November. The thought always lurks, but less often lunges.

You can’t really go by the sensations of quirky pains or even the appearance of small amounts of blood, both of which I’ve had off  and on right alongside “clean” scans and scopes. Hard to distinguish between the new normal after surgeries and treatment and the signs of recurrence.

So I continued lazily relaxing in bed this morning without the will to get up. Maybe it was just that Saturday mornings are when I usually try to catch up on house chores.

But then I remember that Shayley was going to write something for a summer camp application at Grandma’s yesterday on my laptop. Without thought, my eyes POPPED open and I was energized and scrambling to get up and go look for it.

After reading that, I was anxious to read the latest on the showdown in Egypt. Then, something from Dana Jennings on nytimes.com caught my eye. Good, he’s alive, was my first thought. He had advanced prostate cancer and treatments about the same time I was dealing with advanced colorectal cancer. Though I hadn’t seen them before, the titles of his intermittent columns about life “after cancer” were instantly familiar:

Bidding Farewell to Ghosts of Pain

He talked about dealing with major depression AFTER he finished treatment. I’ve been fortunate not to be hit by that.  I could really relate to other things, though. He also talks about how fighting cancer broke him of his rural-New Hampshire tendencies to refuse medicines for pain, etc.  He talks a lot about living in the here and now, enjoying every minute. He talks about how he has no patiences for jerks  and no interest in trivia. Rather, he treasures “holy time” with family and friends.  As I recall these, I imagine they sound trite or predictable and yet it was somehow reassuring to me to read my own feelings expressed so well by another.

Looking now at the topics of things I’ve written about, I see “b12 deficiency” on the list. Maybe I need to have that checked. Maybe that’s all it is.

Meanwhile, Shayley will be home soon. I’d better get to the chores so I’ll be ready to hear her new stories.

Lydeana

I have mild tinges of guilt for not writing more. A WordPress email just informed me that we only wrote 21 times in 2010. 

Yet, life has been good and full of other things as I’ve consciously tried to spend less time on the computer at home this year. (I’m a terrible “friend” on facebook, too.)  I count my blessings that : 1)Shayley (and Charlie) still want my time and attention at home and 2)that I’m alive to give it to them.

2010 was an outstanding year for us. Not a single visit to the ER. No treatments or surgeries. I had 4 CT scans, 1 PT scan and 3 colonoscopies–with a couple of scares, but it turned out fine. Charlie had to have a stress test (though one might say he’s had a continuous stress test the last 3 years!), but thankfully it turned out fine, too.

I just got around to sorting through a bunch of pictures for the year and I’m astounded at the things we managed to do: a field trip, camping trips, gardening, raising baby chicks and kittens, keeping a safe path through the house about half the time–all while working and Charlie going to school full-time. 

In truth, I’ve done plenty of writing this past month– at work. About a hundred pages of text, photos, figures, etc.–a compilation of lots and lots of information and input about Floyd County. I hope to have the draft “Comprehensive Plan” finished in another week.

In terms of resolutions for 2011? It’s a short list. Be more consistent in taking the calcium and Vitamin D, AND, stick with an exercise routine.  Neither are favorites for me.

On the up side, after months and months of trial and error on the interplay of food, activity, anxiety and hyper-active bowel trouble, I had all but given up (had figured out not to have ANY dairy, caffeine, fruit juices, carbonated drinks, nuts or heavy fiber, but still having problems.) But, thankfully, Charlie recommended that I see a pscyhologist to see if he could help on the anxiety front. He is teaching me relaxation techniques. I now realize, ironically,  I’m also NEVER relaxed without willing myself to be.  Then, another great break-through. In his nursing studies, Charlie  read something that said someone with symptoms like mine should not drink liquids with their meals. I’m notorious for this (even though a friend had already suggested I not do that.) So, for the past month, I’ve stopped drinking a lot with meals. Also, I’ve just confirmed that my system cannot handle tap water for some reason. So I drink only distilled water and tea, and only between meals. Between all of these things, I’m probably 50% better in the past month! 

And a final note, speaking of food and drink. I got the best Christmas gift ever this year! Shayley wrote me a cookbook with about 30 pages of dairy-free recipes that she created or amended for me.  I love it! I can tell she put a lot of time into it (who says snow days are a waste?!)   Don’t know if you can tell much about it

The Table of Contents in the Cookbook Shayley wrote for me for Christmas 2010

Click here to read:

Our Christmas letter 2010

Shayley with Silly Bandz, Twilight, President and Porkchop

 Dear Friends,

 I’m writing to update you on several fronts. Most immediately to ask for your prayers for my upcoming routine CT scans at Duke tomorrow. It’s hard to believe it’s been 4 months since my last scans and two months since my last colonoscopy.

 Also, several of you have kindly encouraged me to write again on occasion. I have not written much of late for several reasons—our needs have seemed minor in comparison with others; I have been trying not to be on the computer so much when I’m not at work; writing requires thinking; and lastly my concerns lately have tended to be about others and complicated, and therefore not necessarily the kind of thing I should share.

 First, just to update you on Charlie and Shayley. Charlie is about to finish his first semester in the nursing program, with 3 more semesters to go. He’s going to school full time and working part-time. Just before he goes out the door to school every morning, Shayley calls out, “Be good. If any one dies today, no recess.” I’ve told her she needs to stop that now as he’s actually doing clinicals once a week, so it could happen.

Shayley is happily taking care of 4 kittens, Tater, and a yard full of chickens and adult cats. We are down to 8 chickens, including one that got injured and now hobbles. I can’t stand how mean the other chickens are to it, so we try to spoil it with attention and special food as often as we can.

 Shayley still writes quite often, but rarely poetry. She’s been working on a couple projects for several months. One she calls Irish Immigrants, 1804, which is about a family of children surviving here 200 years ago. Her research on this involves asking us survival questions and what it would  have been like then. Charlie usually hands her really helpful books like the two-inch thick Ernest Shackleton exploration books, US Air Force Survival Manual or Ultimate Wilderness Skills as endorsed by Survivorman (and which Shayley promptly set aside when she spotted directions in it for preparing Cornish hens.)

 If Irish Immigrants is a nod to her Dad’s interests in survival, her other project, Over-protective Parenting is maybe an elbow in the side to me! Watch out you other parents out there as she’s on the look-out for examples. Thankfully, she’s getting a lot of good ideas from a Baby Gizmo book and from Last Child in the Woods (she got to hear author Richard Louv recently at a Blue Ridge Parkway 75^th Anniversary event.) I don’t know if she will ever finish writing either of these because she’s always starting other new projects which usually entail lists, charts or product ideas for the toy company she wants to start.

 As for me, after my last scans in July, I decided I would go ahead and set up appointments for other “long-term” things I’d intentionally neglected. So, I’ve been to the dentist for the first time in two years. And I’ve set  appointments about my irritable bowel-type symptoms and my osteoporosis. It happens that those are scheduled for Wednesday and Friday this week. I hope and pray I finish the week with those being my biggest health worries.

 As always, thank you for your continuing love and prayers. We are blessed.

 Love,

Lydeana

love hearing Shayley play, especially since I can’t

Hard to  believe it’s been so long since I’ve written.   It’s good, I guess. Not sure what calls me to write tonight, except that I’m home alone for a short time, I’m feeling the guilt of old news on this page, and I’m wondering if I could bring better order or attitude to  life if I gave it concentrated thought, as writing requires me to do. 

Shayley is a 5th grader these days, 10 years old (she was only 7 when I first starting writing to you all.) Charlie’s a full-time nursing student now, as well as working 15 to 20 hours per week. Our chickens starting laying eggs a couple months ago–Yum! And Tater must also now share our attention with 4 new kittens we just found here a few weeks ago!

Work has been very busy for me, which is good, except sometimes I over-commit myself. I enjoy my work, but sometimes I get too caught up in it. I was reminded of that earlier  this week when I was late picking Shayley up and later in the evening she casually referred to me as a workaholic. There are worse things, to be sure, but I’ve always tried hard not to be that–or not to have her know it at least. The vow I made in my head, then,  this week to leave work on time most days has brought on a torrent of unexpected “urgencies” at quitting time  that beg for me to return one more phone call, one more email, etc.

This brings back to mind a question a work peer asked me recently on a visit to Richmond. I hadn’t made that trip for three years. Knowing something of my medical history, he said, straight away, what is it that you have been  left here on this earth to do?

Hm. I didn’t have a good answer for him and I still don’t. I feel that I should. Literally the night before that, we had some friends over and watched a Rob Bell video in which he was really getting at the same thing . . . We rush here and there and rush, rush, rush, but what is our purpose really?

In the broadest sense, I know the answer to this–I am here to bring glory to God, my Creator. That includes sharing his love and forgiveness with the world in word and deed. But what is unique to me–what about my life, my opportunities, my strengths, my weaknesses  can  make a difference for someone?  And how?

Is it doing everything I’m doing now? Is it doing less than I’m doing and being more focused on a few things? Charlie constantly reminds me that I need to exercise (to help my osteoporosis and reduce risk of recurrence.) I always put that at the bottom of the list, because it seems  less important than preparing meals or working or time with Shayley or helping Charlie with something.  It seems selfish. And yet, rationally I know that on occasion we have to be selfish in the near term if we hope to be around for the long term. Pray for me on this. When I have limited energy, the last thing I want to do is “waste it” on an exercise bike when I have so many other things that need doing.

But what is my specific purpose? What should  I be focused on?

Another reason I haven’t written for a long while is that it seems there are so many tragedies striking friends and neighbors. I’ve felt helpless and writing about our trivialities and joys feels like misplaced energy. Whenever cancer is the problem, I especially feel like I should have or find some practical wisdom to help–a doctor referal, or food that might stay down during treatment. In reality, there are no magic words.  I should know that prayers and a heartfelt card or email go a long, long way in lightening the load for a bit.

Alas, Charlie and Shayley just arrived home so I shall close. As so many of you have prayed for my life to be spared, I gratefully now ask that you pray that I will spend each day wisely, by God’s  eternal standards of Faith, Hope and Love.

Gratefully,

Lydeana

We’ve had a great several days.

Sunday morning we were nearly late for church, which wouldn’t have been all that unusual except I needed to be there on time to share my testimony. I had invited my family and everyONE arrived before us! We had been rushing around the house packing for our camping trip–which we were heading on right after church and lunch with my family. If you are ever scheduled to speak for the first time at your church, I would recommend not trying to pack for a camping trip the same morning–ESPECIALLY if you’ve just started a major new diet restriction (gluten-free) that requires a lot of extra effort!

It all went well. It was so wonderful to have my family all together in our church.

After a quick trip to the store to get a loaf of bread for Charlie and Shayley and Reese’s pieces for me, we headed on to Smith Mountain Lake State Park for three nights.  The campground was largely empty, just as we’d hoped. And we got the closest campsite to the bathhouse, just as I’d hoped! It rained the first evening midway through fixing supper, but it was no big problem. Charlie and I have been rained on so many times camping that we should be prepared and mostly were.

Charlie had everything neatly organized and packed up. (He and I use to backpack, so after that, car-camping it luxurious.) We were heading out fishing Sunday evening and I stopped him from carrying the boxes of food back to the car. Having gone down in elevation a couple thousand feet, it didn’t feel like bear country. So we enjoyed fishing–Shayley and I saw lots of fish, even though Charlie’s the only one who CAUGHT any.

When we got back, Shayley and I headed straight for the bathrooms at camp. When we finally got to the campsite, Charlie was stirred up. He pointed up a tree, but it was so dark by then I couldn’t see a thing. Turns out, just as Charlie had walked up, he had seen our loaf of bread climbing a tree. Well, of course, it was being carried in a raccoon’s mouth. He had nothing to throw at it. And it was one of those rare times  when  he had no weapons around.

Most of the food was in a large cooler, locked plastic chest, and a rubbermaid box, but that raccoon had knocked the one cardboard box of foods off the table and sure enough it had cracked  open and hatched out a fresh, full loaf of bread for him.

Before we went to bed, Charlie carried that box to our vehicle and locked it inside. As we lay in our sleeping bags trying to go to sleep, I kept thinking of that loaf of bread being hoisted up a tree and told Charlie that perhaps this was a sign that we ALL needed to give up gluten! (wheat and related flours) He rather thought it was a sign that one should never be without a weapon. And he found a throwable stick before bed, just in case another opportunity arose.

Sure enough, during the night, he heard two of them in a tussle and he got after them. They ran up trees, put he beaned one at 25 feet with a stick. Of course, one of them dropped  a bread-bag bomb on him.

Shayley was very interested to learn the next morning that the raccoon had eaten most of the loaf of bread, except the crust. A non-crust eater herself, she quickly  reasoned that if a raccoon does not eat crusts, she should not be expected to either.

We spent our days playing beach volleyball, fishing, cooking and eating–plus Charlie and Shayley swam at the beach area. Shayley also got interested in a book I brought to read, Know-It-All: One Man’s Humble Quest to Become the Smartest Person in the World. It was one of those $4 books I’d never heard of from the book fair. It’s about a fellow who set out to read the Encyclopedia Britannica–all 33,000 pages. it’s  a mix of what he learned and lived during that time.  I read it aloud to her during times I had to rest and before bed. The next thing I know she started reading it alone with I was cooking or cleaning.

The second night, rather than tote all the food back to the car (about 100 feet away) , we decided to just  tuck  all the food boxes up under the seats of the heavy picnic table, so that the raccoon would have no room to open the lids. Let’s just say based on what I now know, I would never bet against a ‘coon when it comes to food. During the night we hear the rattle of plastic. Charlie bounded out of the tent only to find the raccoon had somehow opened the rubbermaid container enough to slide out the bag of rice crackers Charlie had gotten me. If you’ve ever had rice crackers, you’ll know why I felt I  could call it even with the Mr. Raccoon after that.

The next morning while Charlie was gone to the bathhouse, Shayley and I heard crumbs falling from trees. (Manna, anyone?)  I was telling Shayley about the stolen rice crackers. I started mimicking  a raccoon who was breaking into his newfound stack. “Pfh!!. . . that one’s no good, let me try the next one . . Pfh!!! no good.  . . . let me try the NEXT one.” She stepped this up a notch, “Pfh, where’s my gluten. . Pfh, where’s my high fructose corn syrup . .  Pfh, where’s my artificial preservatives . … .”

We left nothing outside the car for the rascals last night. But this morning, we heard folks across the way comparing notes on the marauding raccoons. We joined in the fun with our stories–perfect strangers around a picnic table near the bathhouse, bed-head and all–and everyone laughing quickly and heartily. It gave me a new appreciation of what those raccoons had done. They had made friends of strangers, and given Click to view slideshow.great stories and memories for us all.

And speaking of “for us all,” I’m an even bigger fan of state parks than before. Smith Mountain Lake State Park is a 1,200 acre area with 50 camps sites, miles of trails, a beach area, boat docks, fishing piers, picnic areas, discovery center, free interpretive activities (we did the raptor hayride and the treasure hunt/orienteering), and OH, the wildlife. 

Love to you all,

Lydeana