The One in Which the Ninja Warrior gets Punched in the Stomach

Warning: This blog post is rife with cursing. To this, I say: 1) too bad so sad. I have a #braincancer @freepass and 2) I really couldn't give a fuck if you're "offended". The Ninja Warrior is feeling particular feisty today, so.... if you don't like that, move along, move along, nothing to see here....you're clearly in the wrong place.

This week has been a DOOZIE!

On Sunday, January 24th, we had an amazing Open House at our new home with the guest list tipping above 100+. That doesn't count the people on evite who didn't respond or said, "no" - and those of you who are saying, "WTF? I thought we were part of their circle of friends." I'm sure you are. Have I mentioned that I have #braincancer? and Steven has a wife with #braincancer? The invitation list was a clusterfuck. Weeks and days before the party, we were saying, "Did we invite ____ already?" Shit! And I'd be on evite trying to right the wrong. So, I'm truly, truly sorry if we inadvertently omitted you.<smooches!> It doesn't mean we don't love you!

Anyway, the party was a blast - Steven and I were celebrating so many things, but one of the biggest was Schmoopy & the Outlier were celebrating June being around for 16 months. Living our dream in a house right in the middle of the vineyard. Woohooo! 16 months is a big deal!

Here's me, playing my jam, "Fight Song" - Yes, it's totally hokey, but I never said I wasn't hokey. P.S. I am. DUH! 

Technically, I don't think that I'm "Outlier" territory exactly (if I remember my one semester of statistics at George Washington University - see below), but I know that it felt gooooooood. You see, GBM patients who go through the same treatment I've been through, Radiation (30 days) and Temodar (chemo) for over a year - the median survival rate is 15 months. So, if felt to me like I crossed a finish line, but there was no end. In my mind, I was fist pumping as I ran through the tape, but didn't stop. I was still running and running and calling over my shoulder, "I'm still heeeeereeee!!! I'm going to keep running until I can'ttttttt!"

The next day, Monday, January, 25th, I had an extraordinary experience of attending the TriValley Martin Luther King, Jr. Fellowship Breakfast and received a Legacy Award. (Kiddies, see my last blog post. Come on. Don't make me link it. Don't be lazy! You can find it, if you try.) All that you have to know for the purposes of this post is that the morning/day was another celebration for Steven & me. Not only was I survivor, but I was being honored for what I've done the last 16 months! Incredible!

They said it was difficult enough to fit those four words in my name, so #mfbcfnw was dropped due to space limitations,

Tuesday, I had an MRI. Truth be told, it was originally scheduled for Monday, but we had to reschedule it because of the breakfast. It was the last post-chemo MRI scheduled and a big deal because if they found it stable, I was officially starting the "Watch and Wait" without medical interventions. or "Watch and Live" stage as I renamed it.

I spent Wednesday morning with my notebook and the computer, making preparations for two new adventures that I had on my goal board within the next few months. I don't know if I've shared this with you already or not, but long-range plans can be hard because of my condition. I sometimes experience anxiety when Steven and I start talking about things that are far in the future. For example, he's been trying to nail me down on specifics related to our Wine Lovers river cruise in April. It's been on the calendar for about a year, but (...call it superstition?)


I think it's sold out, but if you want to read more about it, click here: River Cruise <----

I avoid talking about things that are THAT far ahead. But when I crossed that imaginary "finish line" and broke the tape, I began thinking that I'd bought myself some time.

I don't know why I chose this arbitrary length of time, but I felt like I had about six months of "waiting and living" to just keep jogging along before I had to face changes in my condition. It seemed reasonably short, but a wonderful respite from all the medical interventions. The cruise is in April, so I felt comfortable making plans. And we'd just booked flights in March for my youngest, Sara, and I to go to Florida with my parents and visit Disneyworld and Harry Potter World. Harry Potter World!!! I was on the computer, getting goosebumps, just imagining going to Diagnon Alley and drinking "butter beer" with her.

Diagon Alley!!! Awesome!!! ( I already told you a million times that I'm dork and love hokey.)

The evening of Thursday, January 27th, we heard from our neuro-oncologist via speaker phone in regards to my MRI results. It's like she grabbed my shoulders and stopped my jogging, saying, "Stop celebrating. The cancer is progressing." No, that doesn't really describe the experience. It was like being punched in the stomach. Only, my NO is so gentle and sweet, I can't imagine her punching me at all. But it sure was a whopping punch. Through speaker phone, she described what the UCSF Tumor Board saw in my latest scan. The dreaded words: "disease progression", and we arranged to meet the next day to discuss it further and talk about Next Steps.

Which brings us to yesterday, Friday, January 28th. I'm not an Outlier -- for now, anyway.

I hope to someday to be wayyyyyy out there as an outlier, but I'm still in the cluster of dots.

 I'm sure as shit still a Mother Fucking Brain Cancer Fucking Ninja Warrior.RAWWWR! Don't doubt that. And if you are sitting there with your jaws hanging open with shock and sadness...I hate to say, "I told you so."...but I TOLD YOU SO! GBM is a mother fucker! It grows. That's what it does. As Steven eloquently says, "Does a cat have an ass?" (Yes, he has a B.A. and an M.A. in Literature. Ah, that was money well-spent. haha!)

So, I knew this time would come. I just didn't expect it so soon. I feel good and healthy. I completed my first week from training for the Couch to 5K for fuck's sake! (Oh, when I said that to my NO, she said, "That sounds like a good plan." Have I told you that  I love my NO! So, I'm still planning on running/jogging/walking that 5K in March.)

We met with her at UCSF yesterday and went over the options for the next steps. We are still in shock and overwhelmed by the situation, so if I don't respond to messages or pick phone calls right away, please don't take it personally. Maybe some of you missed my first post about talking to someone (me, specifically) who has brain cancer. I've put a handy link HERE <---- if you're interested or left unsatisfied after reading this one post.

One thing that I talked about there that's still very relevant....please don't tell me that "I got this!" or "You can do it!" Don't get me wrong. I'm going to keep fighting, and doing everything that I can do to be a long-term survivor. But there are no guarantees. Even the doctors can't tell me how long I have. At least mine say that. Only a dick would say, "You have to 1-3 months." Right? They don't know. No one is a statistic. I'll keep doing what I can to control my health, but unfortunately, we can't control the cancer.

So, yea. That's pretty much been my week. How 'bout you? Actually, if I look at it in total, Sunday and Monday ROCKED, and nothing can take that away from me. So, there's that.

Of course, I'll keep you all updated on the Next Steps once we make decisions. and the ball gets rolling. At the moment, I plan when to start Week 2 of the training plan for Couch to 5K, keep on jogging, keep on jogging...And imagining pick out a wand with my Dear Sara in March. And looking out the window at the scenery along the Rhone in April.  And there's probably gonna be some chemo and other medical stuff in there, too...but I'm not going think about that right this second. 'Cause Schmoopy and I just took the dogs on a walk through the vineyard for a little bit, and I think I'll take a nap. It's so muddy out there, I might have to wait for my next C25K workout, though.

Remember: Life is happening Right NOW. Don't miss it.

The One in Which I Talk About Legacies & End with Some Shitty News (Sorry!)

I mentioned in my last blog post that, several weeks ago, I received an email from the Tri-Valley YMCA - a very unexpected email - asking me if I was interested in participating in this year's Dr. Martin Luther King Fellowship Breakfast. They wanted to honor me with a Legacy Award. You could have knocked me over with a feather. How do they know anything about me? Who was considering ME worthy of this award?

I have since found out who knew about me. Hi, Kelly!!! I hope everything is going well with you!!!!

Anyone who has faced their own mortality has thought about what legacy they will leave when their gone. I believe I've written a little about it here on this blog somewhere. I could take some time and look for it and reread it, but.....#freepass! I've always been a little confused by this concept. In fact, I Googled that shit because I wasn't even sure of the definition of the word, "legacy". ( I thought that might be a good place to start, no?) I looked at all the major dictionary-like websites and all them seemed to have the primary definition as relating to something monetarily valuable. For instance, the Meriam-Webster.com "entry is this:


Full Definition of legacy
plural leg·a·cies
1: a gift by will especially of money or other personal property : bequest
2: something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past<the legacy of the ancient philosophers>

I guess I always thought of a LEGACY as something BIG and impacting a lot of people. Especially a lot of money or something that's very valuable. (Think: Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation or Zan Zukerberg Initiative.) I would never be in a situation to build that kind of monetary value, so I've spent a lot of time over the last year thinking if there was something BIG I could do - start a movement or turn the tide somewhere that would make a difference for a lot of people. With all the radiation and chemo and ...well, the business of living with cancer....Was there time? Or has my time run out?

This past Monday, I found out that although I might never have a national holiday named after me, (Hey, I'm okay with that! Although three day weekends ROCK for teachers! haha!) ...I knew people that I don't know "in real life" read this blog, but I found out that I am making a difference in other  peoples' lives. So.....this award is called the Legacy Award. I had to shift my thinking. The idea that my thoughts, and words, and ideas that I was sharing here on this blog was actually INSPIRING HOPE...that in itself, makes me so happy and humbled  - wrapped in a big ball of PRIDE.

I have had many people through the months, convey the idea that I was "inspirational" or "inspiring"...I knew that was a positive thing and a compliment, so (of course) I always said, "THANK YOU!" But honestly, I wasn't sure what exactly that meant... Guess what? I just Googled that shit, too! And what I learned first is that sucky thing that happens from the time that we're old enough to "look it up" - the definition contains the word or base word right in it. So, that's not helpful at all. Like:

inspirational

in·spi·ra·tion·al
ˌinspəˈrāSH(ə)n(ə)l/
adjective

providing or showing creative or spiritual inspiration.
"the team's inspirational captain"

Thanks, dictionary...that makes absolutely clear...NOT!

So, I drill down to "inspiration", which goes a little bit like this:

inspiration
noun
1.an inspiring or animating action or influence:
I cannot write poetry without inspiration.
2.something inspired, as an idea.
3.a result of inspired activity.
4.a thing or person that inspires.[emphasis mine]

So (because of the teacher in me) I went to the base word: inspire , and you want to know something cool? I'm not going to list all the definitions for "inspire" - (Kiddies, that can be some homework for you, okay?) Geez-a-louise! Don't be babies about it! Here's the link to one page!  ,<----click here
I just thought that one part just leaped out at me:

inspire
verb (used without object), inspired, inspiring.
12. to give inspiration.
13. to inhale.

I love the visual of someone reading my blog posts and inhaling. Take a deep breath of the love, and support, and positivity that there is in the world. And take a deep breath and KNOW that we all are going to leave a legacy whether we were lucky enough to be part of the Silicon Valley boom or not. It's not about the Mon-ey, Mon-ey (<----sorry for the earworm, millenials!)

It's the most valuable thing on this earth: Our Lives. This is our GIFT.
Receiving this Legacy Award was one of the proudest moments for me. And yet I was so nervous walking up to the stage to accept it, my knees were knocking together. Thank goodness I didn't have to speak then. They came out to our house and video-taped Steven and I ahead of time, and edited in to a little "video package" to run before my acceptance of my award.

I would remiss if I didn't thank my Schmoopy for all the kind things he said in this video. And he offered to escort me and hold my hand when I had to ascend these two steps on to the stage. What a gentleman! I managed to make it up there without pulling a Jennifer Lawrence or anything, though. Phew!

Proud moment, Monday, January 25, 2016

 Warning! Bummer News Ahead: The day after this picture was taken, I had an MRI on Tuesday. The news is not good. There is a significant change in between the last scan and this one. The scan was reviewed by the UCSF Tumor Board, and they believe there is progression of the disease. We just spoke with the neuro-oncologist from UCSF and have an appointment tomorrow to discuss our options. The tumor is inoperable and radiation & Temodar are no longer appropriate. We're entering a New

Take a big breath with me, please, and let's say it:

 Life is happening right now. Don't miss it!

The One in Which I Remind Myself of My Commitment to Me

Something totally and humbling ended up in my email box a couple weeks ago. I was informed that the Tri-Valley YMCA was interested in giving me an award at their Martin Luther King Jr. Fellowship Breakfast. Each year, they pick one of MLK's quotes, and it becomes their theme for the event. This year, the quote is:

“Everything that is done in the world is done by hope.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr

and the theme is: 

Inspiring Hope.

I don't know how exactly my name popped up while the board was making their decisions about who would be honored (there are three awards: for an individual, a company, and an organization, I believe), but I'm truly grateful and humbled about the decision.

The breakfast is scheduled for next Monday - yes, MLK Day was last Monday, but they have had better attendance by moving the event, since so many people go away for the "real" holiday three-day weekend.  [Click HERE <-- if you are interested in attending!]

In preparation for this event, they sent someone out to interview Steven and me for a little "video-package". This was a brand new experience for me. The interviewer was lovely and sweet, and made it easy as possible for me to talk, even though it was a little surreal, talking about myself that way. One of the first questions he asked me has been rolling around in my head since then, though.

He asked me how people would describe me. I immediately asked, "Now, or pre-cancer?" It was up to me to decide. Hmmm...I think pre-cancer, almost everyone would include some reference to "Type A", or "controlling", or a "planner" in any description - as have I. It's been a defining characteristic for me for a really long time. In fact, I think I was pretty proud of that - and maybe a little smug at times, if I were honest. (And kiddies, if you've read my blogs before, you know I also describe myself as pathologically honest, so yes, "I was smug about being Type A".)

And I've had a lot of changes since my diagnosis and year-long treatment. I've had lot of lessons learned about how I can control some things, but not a lot of things. For instance, I can't control this fucking cancer in my brain.(Damn it!), but I can control how I deal with it and live my life with cancer in my brain. DUH! That's the major message I tell myself and holler on high to anyone who will listen.

And I believe that is a BIG, BIG, BIG! message:

Focus on what you can control, and make the most of it!

However, I am no longer smug about being Type A/controlling. In fact, I have decided that we are the worst type of personality to be inflicted with brain cancer. It's some serious mind-fuckery (I might have made that word up just now, but "Worry about yourself!")

Okay, this is off-topic, but if you've never seen this video, I could watch it over and over. Still makes me giggle. And I think giggling and whimsy should be a big part of life.

We want to control and plan EVERYTHING, and our brain cancer laughs in our face and says, 'Oh, yea??" Not only can I not control the brain cancer, but I have neurological deficits because of the disease that make it harder to just plan and organize things  that used to be second nature. So, if you're type A like me, I suggest you don't have brain cancer. Well, I actually suggest that none of you have brain cancer, but you know what I mean.

But I don't have any control over that.
So, what to do... what to do?
I focus more and more on the things I can control, mainly: ME.

The next section is going to seem like I've gone off-topic, but I promise you, it will all come together in the end. I promise. It always does, right? Or almost always does... Hey, let's not forget about the #freepass, too! ANYWAY...

I have several rings that I wear every day. I'm a big believer in "anchors" or symbols that when you see them, it reminds you of something in particular. It's kind of like that string people put around their finger to remember something, only mine are a little fancier - one's gold (my wedding ring that Schmoopy put on my finger 25+ years ago). That reminds me of the commitment that we made to each other that day - and yes, what a GREAT decision that was! The second is on my right hand, made of platinum (oooo-la-la!) that Schmoopy gave me for our 10th anniversary. And again this reminds me of that commitment to my best friend and love-of-my-life, and ten beautiful years spent with him and our growing, amazing family.

But recently, I added a couple more rings. I had a ring set that I had purchased P.C. (pre-cancer), because my weight was up and not both of those previous rings fit on my fingers. Now, with all my weight loss, I have to be careful with my wedding ring and get it fitted correctly soon because I've managed to fling it off my newly slimmer finger a couple times when gesticulating wildly.

 I ran across this ring set in our move and thought, I wonder if this will fit on my middle finger now? Sure enough, they did.  I've decided since I've reached a new phase in my cancer treatment - after "graduating" from my chemo cycles. (I'm not making this up. My neuro-oncologist used that phrase. "graduated".) So, I slipped those rings on my finger, next to my wedding ring and made a commitment to myself. These are a symbol of my commitment to myself, to continue to focus on everything I can do, everything I can control to keep myself healthy. To Live Life and Find the Fun!

Symbols of the commitment to Steven on the left and commitment to ME on the right.

Thank goodness I don't have to actually speak at this event! I would be freaking out about now! But thank goodness I have this place to speak to you all! Oh, and one of the other questions was "What inspires you?" Of course, I said, Steven first. I don't know how I would make it through this year without him. And of course, my children and my baby grandchild also inspire me every day, even if I can't see them every day anymore. They are always on my mind!

This red flag is a symbol of my children. If I've already explained that to you in this blog somewhere...#freepass! If not, it will have to wait until another time. Xoxoxo! Love, Mom!

But there is no doubt that YOU all inspire me as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to Inspire Hope in me! Love, June AKA The Outlier #mfbcfnw

____________________________________________________________________________

OH, and I almost forgot! Silly me!

Gratuitous picture of my granddaughter, Autumn, 10 months old! She's going to be running around soon!

The One in Which I Talk About the "Wait and Live" Phase

In case you don't follow me on Facebook, I'll start this post by giving you an update. I just took my last chemo pills last night after 12 cycles. Those were preceded by what I call the "30-day Initial Treatment": chemo 7 days a week and radiation 5 days a week. The 12 monthly cycles were 23 days "off" and 5 days "on" (chemo). It's been a long road. I lost most of my hair and 70 pounds. (See, being fat before this all started actually was a benefit. Who'd a thunk?)  I had 70 pounds to lose and ended up scraping the bottom of the "healthy" scale for my BMI considering my height. I have worked hard lately to stabilize my weight so I don't go into the "danger zone" of underweight. My body needs those calories. I just try to make sure they're nutritious calories and not crap. <--which I should have done all along, but that's a horse of different color -- kind of like my hair!

2013 Alaskan Cruise (left) - 2015 Thanksgiving (right)

I'm sure I have lost a lot of muscle mass, too, not just fat. But I've tried my hardest to exercise every day - walking and more recently incorporating yoga, too. (Dang! Yoga can be a serious muscle workout, but it feels so good!) We have an erg or rowing machine in the house now, and I plan to get some workouts on that when El Nino really gets going here.

From the beginning, every doctor we saw said that this was the best thing that I could do to help myself. EXERCISE/ACTIVITY/MOVEMENT. Of course, I try to listen to my body every day and be sensible. Sometimes the body just needs rest to help it heal. (Naps are good, too! No, really, really good. Trust me on this one, Kiddies!)

Another thing I have been doing is focusing on the positive. Lifting up my arms in acceptance - -  and being so grateful for people who have supported me with love and positive energy and prayers. I believe that helps me continue to have the stamina to push through every day and live life. I can't say THANK YOU enough. Meditation also helps me focus on the positive, healing energy and keeps my mental state on the positive side.

In the first month or two, I sought advice and fellowship online from people that were in the same situation as me. I read blogs from other Warriors with GBM, and actually bought a t-shirt from one that spoke to me at the time. I've worn it several times and featured it here on this blog, too, I think. It says, "Fear is fake. Live Now."

Source: http://www.ryansepicbattle.com/shop/

When I wore it, many people commented on it, positively. But now, 1)It's way too big for me, and 2) Steven and I discussed this recently, and I no longer agree exactly with this message. Fear is really not fake. Fear is a natural and reasonable response to my situation. I am human. I feel fear at times. We all do. Human beings are programmed to feel fear to avoid dangerous situations - you know, the whole "fight or flight" thing? Since I can not flee from my brain cancer, I have to fight it. Like a Ninja Warrior. What I think the real message is that we should try not to focus on our fear.

At my last meeting with my oncologist before I started this last chemo cycle, there was definitely a different "vibe" in the room. I had made it a year. More than a year. That's definitely something to acknowledge and celebrate. I'm entering "Outlier" territory, my peeps! Woot! 

My Outlier cookie, provided by Charrisse Min Johnston. If you want to see the whole awesome collection: click HERE

But I also shared with him, as I'll admit to you now, that I have begun to have a lot anxiety at times. Being in the "Wait and Watch" phase instead of being in an active treatment regimen. Well, let's put it this way, the doctors have stepped back, and I'm free to "do me". Which I will: continue with meditation, exercise, nutrition, rest... and LIVE. Not just wait and watch, but Wait and LIVE.

My doctor said something that really stunned me and caused a paradigm shift of sorts for me. Anyone that knows me well, knows that I often say, "What do you want the outcome to be?" when they ask for advice about what to do/say in a situation. And I make decisions in my own life with that in mind. So, I tossed off one of my mantras, "Worrying won't change the outcome." And the oncologist looked  me square in the eyes and said, "Or...worrying could change the outcome..." <deep pause> In other words, in this particular case, worrying is actually counter-productive when you're in a situation where you hoping for a positive outcome of a healthy body. Worrying, stress, negativity are all actually, scientifically proven to be toxic to our bodies. Google that Shit. It's the truth! (Kiddies who are struggling with depression, anxiety, stress...go back and read that last bit. And think about how you're living your life right now. What are some things that you could do to change it?)

Most of you have figured this out by reading my blog already. It's about how you live your life NOW, so I like that part of that old t-shirt message.  So, in fact, I've made a new t-shirt for myself that I can't wait until it arrives in a couple weeks! It says, 

"Find the Fun! Live Life Now!" 

I think that encapsulates more of what I believe and.... the message I wish everyone could feel deep down inside (without having a life-threatening illness). I think needing to have brain cancer to get there seems a little over-the-top, don't you?

Stay tuned for a picture coming soon of me in my new t-shirt! 

but there's always room for a gratuitous picture of my granddaughter, Autumn, right?

Just turned 10 months old yesterday (double digits!), and she's already a foodie!

Love, June Xoxoxo #mfbcfninjawarrior

The One in Which I Talk About Christmas 2015 - One Year Since I Started Treatment!

December 12,2014, I began my treatment for my brain cancer: 5 days a week of radiation and 7 days a week of chemo.  Although I am sometimes mistaken about little details , I'm pretty sure I'm right about this one. I think at that time, my family was hoping for the best, but aware that I was facing bad odds. In fact, the unspoken vibe I felt was that we may not have June around next Christmas. My parents generously asked, Where do you want to spend the holidays?" I responded, "Capitola" (my favorite place in the whole world) And they made it happen. All my children (plus some "significant others"), my parents, my sister, brother, and his significant other, and briefly my niece and her family...and of course, our two doggies! spent Christmas week walking in the albeit chilly, but sunny and quaint village of Capitola. My goodness, Capi is named for Capitola! And we had such a lovely time, we swore we'd do it again in 2015. Click on this link if you want read about last year's experience.

Capitola-by-the-Sea

Sure enough, my parents helped make this happen. But everything was different this year. (Funny how that happens. Life changing things and stuff.) My children are growing to "real adults" with jobs and responsibilities, and some weren't able to take a whole week off from work. My sister also wasn't able to make it. And, of course, we had the addition of our first grand baby...a joy for us and a huge change for my daughter and son-in-love. Their adorable, smart, and brave daughter (I insist that girl babies hear descriptors that go beyond their beauty.), Autumn, requires a great deal of attention and has become the center of her mom and dad's universe. Absolutely rightly so. In fact, we only had one afternoon when our whole family was there together. So precious!

El Niño made a huge impression on our holiday week,too, bringing lots of rain, rain, rain. That didn't really bother me. I always say, "a bad day at the beach is always better than a good day anywhere else". The doggies weren't so keen on going for walks, though. And Steven refuses to get rain jackets for them since it would rob them of their dignity. But Steven managed to coax them along at least once a day, along the river.

Another highlight of the trip was having lunch on the patio of Zelda's with almost all the family. I think the hostess thought we had lost our mind when we asked to sit outside. Hey, it wasn't raining! It was pretty cold, but they wiped off the chairs and let our crazy crew eat lunch with a gorgeous view.

What I'm trying to convey is...life goes on (yay!) and it changes (also a "yay!" because wouldn't it be boring if always stayed the same?) But the changing thing is something that requires some processing and adjustment. One of the new traditions we had planned was to wait until we arrived at our vacation rental, get a big tree, and decorate it there. We've never done that before, but I had always heard that some families have the tradition of doing this on Christmas Eve, so I wasn't concerned. Steven and I set off on December 23rd to get the tree. All the decorations had been brought down from San Jose...only we went to every possible source in the area, and they had no trees. I guess people don't do that Christmas tree tradition anymore? I sat in the passenger seat as we drove from place to place, only to be disappointed with a shake of a head and suggestions of where to try next. I was trying to hold back tears and talk myself out of my disappointment. After all, it wasn't like one of had brain cancer! (Oh,wait....)

We ended up at Orchard Supply - where all the trees were gone,too. But they had some sad Charlie Brown potted plants. And my hidden and sulking attitude adjustment got kicked to the curb. If we can't have a beautiful 6-8 foot towering, impressive tree, we could certainly strive to have the ugliest tree! So, Steven and I picked out a plant that we decided was the fern version of Cousin It from the Adams Family.

I introduce you to the Cousin It of Christmas "trees".

We bought a hedgehog made out of a pine cone for the top (with a blue LED star to enhance it. DUH!) . And a plant stand to give some dignified height - and less likelihood that our doggies and granddaughter would run into it. In about 15 minutes, I went from sad and disappointed to gleeful and belly laughing while we ran around the store, trying to find all the ugliest things possible. [Kiddies, the lesson here is: You know what? Shit happens. Deal with it. Quit yer whining and find the fun.] 

We proudly returned to the house and presented it to the kids, who were great sports about joining in to our frivolity. One of my most wonderful Christmas memories this year was having Autumn "help" put up the lights.

 (Not only is she beautiful, smart, and brave, but she's helpful, too!)

And my kids and I put as many of our ornaments as we could on this little sucker. Katherine encouraged everyone by saying, "It's easy! I'm not even hanging them! I'm just shoving them in there!" It was ugly, but in an ugly-cute kind of way.

Sort of like pugs <ducking and running from all my friends who have pugs> Hey, I've been known to describe our Tess the same way. Our Baja mutt is pretty ugly-cute. No shame in that game!

Here's a "cutie", Tess, named for Tesla Road, where our winery is located.

Later in the week, the sun really came out. And there were lovely views to be seen. I was lying on the sofa, spooning with Schmoopy and watching a movie, and I turned around and looked out the window at the bright light shining in the sky. I debated for a few minutes about interrupting that time and suggesting we go out and go to the beach to enjoy the vistas. But I felt his legs pressed against the back of my legs, his arm wrapped around me, the warmth from the fireplace, and the ugly Cousin It Christmas tree adding to beauty of the moment. And I decided: Nope. This is just perfect. 

I hope you had as perfect a holiday season as we did. And Happy New Year! One more chemo cycle this month, and then we start the "watch-and-wait" phase. Not easy for Type A personality, but my plan is to not just wait, but live life and look for the fun. That sounds like a plan to me!