To Live Like You Are Dying

Bear with me here. This is a very real post, but not as morbid as it sounds.

When I was diagnosed on May 11, my world came crashing down. Our family went into survival mode for months. There were ups and downs - mostly downs. As I struggled for air, balance, and for the reversal of alarming decline, I held onto hope. The doctors said I would respond quickly to the targeted meds (in my case, Tagrisso), but had we started soon enough? None of us knew.

Once I started feeling the positive changes, my energy was still minimal and I lived in a fog of morphine and exhaustion. I looked with anticipation to when I would feel better.

It came as a total surprise that when my energy and overall health started to pick up my heart and mind crashed. It was like I was diagnosed all over again. The doctor told me he had high hopes for several years of remission. But what I focused on was - what then? 

I talked to several trusted people and said, "I don't know how to live like I'm dying. It's a life skill I never learned." I really love that Tim McGraw song, but sky diving isn't my thing and I can tell you I wouldn't make it 2.7 seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu. I knew what I wanted. I wanted to live a long life filled with my family and grandchildren and to feel like I was making a different in the lives of students. Those weren't things I could just check off a bucket list.

And so, I struggled. Hard. (So many of you have commented on how strong and brave I am, but I don't deserve those adjectives. I am neither. If I could sign up for an easier path, believe me, I would run to do so.) Yes, I absolutely believe God can perform a miracle. Yes, I trust Him to do what is best. I just don't know how to live in the face of my future. Several very wise people have encouraged me to dare to dream again. 

I'm coming to a few conclusions:

1. I'm not going to live like I'm dying. That's just depressing. It's silly, too, because we just don't know.

2. I'm going to revel in the beautiful moments with all of my people.

3. I'm going to focus on the opportunities to bless others- however feeble my capacities are. 

4. I'm going to keep fighting. Today that looks like exercising, keeping my mind busy with research and ideas for students. It looks like resting when I need to and eating my veggies. It looks like telling my people how much they mean to me. It even means delving into the medical bills - again. Sigh.

C.S. Lewis once spoke to the issue of how to live in the atomic age under the threat of nuclear warfare and I've taken his wisdom deep into my heart. 

"This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.”

Thank you for allowing me to untangle my thoughts, pull myself together, and fight the urge to let cancer dominate my mind. There is so much more to life than dying.

                                                                                                                 -Nanette

P.S. I've recently found out how many of you are interceding for me - not just casually praying, but really interceding. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

PPS. I have my next brain MRI tomorrow. Please pray for peace.

 Back From Colorado

I fully intended to update you from Colorado, but it was a pretty rough time for me. Two days into the program I got Covid and we had to be moved into quarantine for five days. The staff at the treatment program took excellent of us, but I still missed a number of treatments.I did have a light case and recovered well.

The treatments I received were juice fasting, hyperbaric chamber, fever bath, poultices and herbs. Between those and the Tagrisso, I was able to start walking and worked up to about 1 1/2 miles a day. This helped to lift my spirits. We plan to continue a number of the treatments here. The fever bath is effective, but miserable! I'm supposed to do at least three a week.

We flew home this last Sunday and I had a CAT scan on Monday. Praise the Lord, the scan showed significant shrinkage of all of my cancer. The doctor held out of hope of possibly years of remission. Happy dance! My breathing is almost totally free and my balance has improved greatly.

A few things to pray for:

    *My dad had open heart surgery on Monday. He needed a valve repair. Please pray for a speedy recovery.

    *Jalen left for university today. My mama heart is both sad and proud.

    *A few challenges in my sleeping and some side effects of treatment.

So it has been a very emotional week, but we have so much to give thanks for. Thank you for your prayers and support.

                                                                                                                    - Nanette

                      Forging Ahead

It's been a while since my last update. I went off steroids and it threw me for a loop - headaches, nausea, vomiting. Some of the symptoms lasted for a month. Not fun. With those symptoms fading, I'm able to notice the improvement brought by the targeted medication. I have a bit more energy and much easier breathing. What a blessing!

David and I are leaving in a couple of days to attend a cancer treatment program in Colorado. I'll try to post from there to give you an idea of what it is like. I have heard very good things about their program, so I look forward to experiencing it. In at interesting twist, this is a place I lived for 4 years when I was a child. It will be fun to show David where I lived. I haven't seen it since the day after I turned twelve. There will be good memories and I'll have to process some difficult ones, too.

I just want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for your support. I am so spoiled! You each give in such caring ways and I am deeply moved. Some of you give of your time and skills - massages, nails, housecleaning, pulling weeds. Some of you send flowers and food and $. Some of you have sent comforting blankets and pillows, bath salts and skin cream. Some of you have made lunches for David and Jalen. Many of you text me often to let me know that you think of me, sending promises or funnies to make me laugh. I. Am. So. Grateful.

In about three weeks I'll have another full body scan to see how my lungs, liver, and bones are responding to treatment. I already know my lungs are responding well because I'm breathing easier and talking more.

                                                                                                                        -Nanette

 The Ups and Downs

(This picture was taken about 11 months ago when we hiked up a mountain to watch the raptors fly south along the mountain ridges.  These days, when I struggle to ambulate up one flight of stairs, I hold pictures like this dear. I can't wait to feel so alive again.)

The Ups: 

This week I had my first brain MRI since starting Tagrisso. I hadn't worried much about it, but about three days before my appointment I started to feel anxiety. What if there was no difference? We would have to start radiation. I started reaching out for prayers -not only for the BBBs (Bastard Brain Babies), but for my heart/mind -that I would not worry myself out of my Father's care. My dear friend, Nicole took me to my appointment and kept me talking and laughing. The doctor was late and that scared me. My coordinating nurse asked permission to sit in - and that worried me. 

When the doctor came in, he got right to the point, "So your scan...." I think I stopped breathing. "Surprises me...shows that the spots have shrunk...fewer of them." I didn't hear anything else. He was trying to show me the report on his computer, but I couldn't see. I just put my head on my arms and wept. "Go celebrate," he said.

The Downs:

The last two weeks I've struggled with headaches, nausea, and vomiting. We think it is withdrawals from going off steroids. Nothing tastes right. Not fun.

Things I've Learned:

* I hate steroid moon face.

* When you are wobbly on your feet it looks suspiciously like you are drunk. I need a crier to walk in front of me proclaiming. "Hear ye! Hear ye! She is neither drunk nor high. She merely wobbleth because of BBBs." It might have been helpful the other day when my feet involuntarily veered right and ran me straight into a trash can.

*This week fighting hard looks like eating a little even when you feel like retching at the sight of food.

*My village is so, so amazing. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support.

 A Long Journey, Fraught with Dangers, Toils, and Snares and Blessed with Loyal Companions

This spring, before my diagnosis, I had the urge to reread The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy. In a marathon, I listened to all four books and am I ever grateful that I did. I have long been comforted and challenged by the themes in this work. The battle between good and evil. Hobbits who never looked for a calling being thrust into vital roles with impossible odds. Terrifying dangers. Long, exhausting ordeals. Glorious retreats for refreshment. Second breakfasts.

I was freshly finished with the series when my diagnosis came. and I have once more gathered great strength from the story. My journey doesn't include saving Middle Earth, but it does include the rest of the themes. In. So. Many. Ways.

       "It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness, and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this Shadow. Even Darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something. 

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there's some Good in this world, Mr. Frodo...and it's worth fighting for."

                                                                                            - J.R.R, Tolkien

                                                                                            - The Two Towers

And so I fight. 

I'm on day 19 of the Tagrisso and I have seen improvement in my energy levels. I still struggle with dizziness and black outs and being wobbly on my feet. I feel like that hilarious reel that says, "I want to be a marshmallow. If I were a marshmallow, I would just wobble around....with joy." So if you see me around town (you probably won't) and I appear unsteady, I'm just practicing wobbling around with joy.

                                                                                               -Nanette

We Interrupt Our Regular Broadcasting...

I just wanted to take a break from our latest theme and let you know some really good news that has happened in our family. Mr. Blueberry Eyes and his beloved Abbi became engaged a couple of weeks ago. We are so very happy. These two are so suited to each other. 

I

It will be a while before the wedding as they want to finish college and attend universities across the country from each other, but they wanted to make it official.

Abbi and Mr. Blueberry Eyes have been friends since childhood, but didn't really "notice" each other until a couple of years ago.  In an interesting twist, Abbi is Ben's (Laughing Water's husband) sister. 

 

Finding Our Stride 

I've been on the targeted meds for seven days now. I have not had any negative side effects - so thankful! I'm struggling to find my stride because it seems I have plenty of other symptoms to navigate and they change a bit from day to day. The most frustrating is that I'm not tracking as well as I usually do and have made some mistakes in business and medication that leave me feeling rattled and unsure. Is it stress, or are the Brain Bastard Babies making inroads? I'm also a bit wobbly in my balance and have decided that I should probably not go to town on my own until the meds start shrinking things. I despise losing any independence.

Just to be raw and honest for a minute, when I found out it was in my brain, I faced a powerful fear of losing cognition. I treasure words, ideas, thoughts, deep conversations above many things and the thought that I might be robbed of these things was terrible. I have so much I still want to do with my brain. I've decided to focus on healing for now.... and leave the path of it to the Almighty. A friend encouraged me to write even if I'm afraid it won't make sense.

Here are some beautiful things that are making me laugh and smile....

* This handsome dude and I are celebrating 26 years of marriage today. We celebrated with dinner out and relaxed enough to talk about some of our deep, philosophical ideas. It felt good to be "us" again for a few moments.

*It is strawberry season and we picked a boatload the other night. When I found any berries past their prime, I would toss them into the chicken run and watch the mayhem that would ensue. If you have never seen a chicken grab a strawberry and run pell mell to get away from the other hens, you really should. I'm pretty sure the amusement of it can cure cancer.

*Friends weeding my garden. 

*Mr. Blueberry Eyes and my son-in-law (I need to give him a blog name) laid weed cloth in my garden so I can finish planting. (Yes, I'm woefully late.)

*I am so deeply moved and humbled by the overwhelming generosity of people who have contributed to the GoFundMe account set up in my name. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Pleases know it is very important to me to put the money exactly where it is intended - medical bills and expenses not covered by lost wages. There will be no extravagant spending. 

                                                                                                          - Nanette

 Introducing Shithead

It's pronounced SHI-THEED. Get your mind out of the gutter. We name everything in this house. Queen Bees. Vehicles. Everything. Even tumors. 

So Shithead has given birth to 41 BBBs. (Bastard Brain Babies), Four LLLs (Lily Liver Lesions) and....I don't know how many bone spots (name suggestions?).

The amazing news is that I was approved for FREE targeted meds from the drug company. I was approved almost immediately and they are shipping the meds as we speak. I'm assured my EGFR on area 19 (I love saying that) will respond very quickly, including all of its named and unnamed entities.

So here are some things I've learned....

*Having cancer makes you feel entitled. Want a whole package of organic blueberries for a snack? Go for it. Want an entire pint of plant based, sugar-free ice cream? Eat the whole thing. That one is not, however, free of consequences.

*Cancer is a fulltime job...as my friend Karen said.

* You will have more conversations with strange men about what kind of bra you have than you ever thought possible. (For the diagnostic machines.)

*You should probably NOT tell the guy at ATT your latest life story. Somewhere there's a poor phone sales rep looking for a good counselor.

*Get you some people like mine. I have the BEST people. They are knocking the support crew thing right out of the park (a post all of its own).

*Sometimes people are weird. 

*People handle grief very differently. Some weep openly with you. Some won't contact you until they can do it with a stiff upper lip. Some sit with you. Some go into a flurry of activity.  I need them all. BE YOU.

Pretty sure this list is going to grow.

                                                                                -Nanette

 Short Update

This will be a short update. I feel like I seared everyone with the post about my initial diagnosis. I have one more bummer to share and then I promise the next will be more fun. 

The brain MRI I had to "rule out" brain mets actually showed that I have many spots on both sides of my brain. That was a bad morning - especially because I made the mistake of checking my patient portal at 4 in the morning and discovered the news. Not much sleep was had after that. The oncology center, however, fast tracked me through more diagnostics and outfitted me with a CT mask and I start radiation this week.

I also have very, very good news. My primary cancer testing came back from Mayo clinic and shows the genetic mutation EGFR on area 19. This means it is a specific cancer mutation that is responding very well to the newish targeted therapy drugs. It is giving people YEARS of quality life and there are new generations about to come out of testing. My doctor was thrilled, so of course, that gives me so much hope. Apparently, this particular drug also crosses the blood/brain barrier better than some, so the brain will be hit from two angles.

Some specific prayers:

* Financial grants through the drug company will clear quickly so I can start the targeted therapy soon.

* Praise that I don't have to have full-brain radiation and that the targeted radiation will be thorough with minimal side effects.

* Thanksgiving that Friday's terrible, horrible, no-good day in ER appears to have been the result of a stomach bug and NOT the cancer.

* Prayers that my breathing will be easier with a meds change until the therapy starts.

                                                                                - Nanette

                                                              Utter Shock

 My head is fuzzy. Her voice sounds so far away, this lovely young doctor. My eyes wander to the blood drying on the hospital sheet.  It’s just a spatter from the IV, but I focus on it.  It seems the only tangible thing I can see.  Somehow I sense the gentle pressure of my friend’s hand on mine and I wonder if I’m squeezing hers too hard. My eyes can’t focus for the spots all  around them.  I try to see my husband, frozen in shock, unable to rise from his chair.

“I’m afraid I have bad news.” Bad? I’d cancelled my last two students because I was coughing and wheezing and wanted to go to urgent care. But now I’m in ER. Five minutes ago, I’d thought it was all just an overreaction and I was laughing and talking with the nurses. “You have a mass in your lung…metastasis…spots…liver….bones…cancer.”

“But I’ve never smoked.” Oh, God! Liver? Bones? Doesn’t that mean death? I hear myself say, "Well, I’m mean. I’m not afraid to die, but… but…I want to be around for grandbabies." What about my calling to help children read?  I was just starting to roll on a big, big expansion for children. My master’s program. I was going to write. Travel. Static closes in and expands out and then in again. Funny how fast your brain processes...and how slow.

I tell the doctor I’m trying to focus on what she is saying, but I can’t. Can she please write it down? David and I have so many dreams. We’d just said to each other - wasn’t it just last week - that we would have to die on the same day because we couldn’t face a life without the other. The memory mocks.

I hear a soft voice. Far away.  Is it mine? I’m acknowledging the doctor, but what am I saying? I think I’m saying, “Oh.”

I finally hear my beloved, “Are you sure? Couldn’t it be something else? What causes lung cancer in people  who don’t smoke?” 

“Bad luck.”

It all blurs. He is standing by me now. I think I’m looking at him. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he says. No. We are not okay.

I’m so cold. I hear my friend (wildly, the hospital chaplain on duty- another story for another time) say, “She is in shock. Can we get her a warm blanket?” The nurse is so sweet and I feel bad that I can’t acknowledge her. I focus on the blood again.  It’s concrete.  I’m waiting for the wake-up  part of this nightmare.  It will be such a relief.

David helps me to the bathroom and I think I’m swaying.  I cling to his neck.  “You didn’t sign up for this.” We’ve worked so hard and now I’m going to die before we can enjoy it all…what exactly?

Somehow we walk out. I take in the breathtaking beauty of the May evening, the Montana mountains lighting up in the sunset. We cling to each other. 

We zoom with the kids. I try my best to smile and assure them I’ll fight like hell.  But how do you fight death, exactly? They sob and I feel horrible. They are both finishing up heavy assignments at school two states away. I can’t hug them. Jalen vomits and I can’t hold him. I’m utterly  powerless. 

The night is filled with sobs. First one, then the other. Rotating. Promises in the night. I'll never remarry.” 

“Please don’t say that!”

“Oh, God! My family!”

 A New Twist

To state the obvious, I've been silent on this blog for a long time. Life has been full and rich and I've been otherwise occupied.  Laughing Water and Mr. Blueberry Eyes are all grown up. The Wood Artist and I have been full-tilt career. There will be more time to fill you in later, but the point is that  I'm back blogging, old fashioned as that may seem.

Life tilted and whirled and went into retrograde motion 7 weeks ago.. I stayed quiet on social media for a month  and then decided to talk. I have metastatic lung cancer. Apparently, the cancer knows I love to travel because it flew to my lung lymph nodes, liver, c-spine, hip, and brain, energetic little fellow that he is. He decided to stay incognito until he could declare that he was stage four. Tadaa!

My village wants to keep informed and I don't really want to bleed all over Facebook, so I've decided to keep you all updated on this blog. I'll post the links to Facebook when I do so you know there is something new. Or you can subscribe here. 

I'll tell you how its going - the good, the bad, the funny. I don 't promise to not have a potty mouth. I've already learned  that stage four cancer changes things. But I will also hold true to who I am. Open. Honest. Asking. Full of faith. Peaceful. It will be raw. I will bleed emotion. I will make you laugh. I have no interest in being fake and I have every intention being real. If you can handle that, I really want you on my journey.

- Nanette

Great is Your Faithfulness

I guess seasons of life are a given....I'm sitting in a coffee shop looking at the splash of gold and red outside the window.

I screamed out the door this Sunday morning earlier than I felt was my constitutional right (you know...the pursuit of happiness...) Mr. Blueberry Eyes was joining his scout club for a bike-a-thon and it fell to me to deliver him to a location about 45 minutes from my house. I dropped him off and headed to a City Brew to work on my teacher plans while I wait. I was grumpy. I stumbled (with my heavy work bag) to the counter, hair slightly tousled, not rocking the no-make-up look and the gal behind the counter practically exploded joy all over me. Loud. Effusive. Praising every choice I made. Now, there is something you should know about me. I'm not a morning person. I'm not grumpy in the morning...just DON'T be loud. Don't ask me a million questions.  (My dad always said that I don't wake up.  I come to. Truth bomb.) But this girl. Seriously. She is Tigger. It was so bad (good) that I Could. Not. Stay. Grumpy. She was a complete crack-up. She had me grinning before I left the till area. As I sat down, it occurred to me that I hadn't had devotions - a staple in my morning routine. That realization and her out-of-control joy prompted me to change the course of my morning. I'm going to take stock of my recent past. My blessings. My stresses. The direction of my days.

So....back to seasons. I used to sing, until I lost my song. I used to journal and blog, until I lost my words. Grief and stress overwhelmed me and I saw myself  standing on the edge of an ocean. I was waist/chest deep in the water and all I could do was brace for the next wave of chaos, grief, and disappointment, hoping that that wave would not be the one to knock me over and permanently take my air. There was nothing left for song or words. Just hang on. Plant those feet. Try to breathe.

In the course of a few years, we had to close our business in the economic downturn of the 2010. The Wood Artist had to work away from home for 4 years. During that time:

*  Our son was diagnosed with severe learning disabilities. I started to navigate the world of language-based differences, dyslexia, dysgraphia, sensory processing, and anxiety disorder. I plunged head-long into therapies as only a mother can.
*  Our daughter entered her teen years, complete with driver's ed., first love, and heartbreak. She developed food allergies that made me completely rethink and retrain our diet.
* A loved one descended into extreme mental illness, rendering her completely and entirely unsafe to be with. I discovered that our daughter was in extreme danger because of this loved one's choices and had to take steps to protect her.
* Another loved one descended into the dark tunnel of addiction and resulting incarceration. I was holding down the fort, mostly alone, navigating the justice system,  taking the witness stand twice (once with laryngitis so bad the judge took pity and had the baliff bring me water while I rasped into the mic, staring down the lawyers in a corrupt system. I dove head-first into custody issues at a time when child services in our town was so corrupt and inept they repeatedly made it into the papers. Relentlessly, I fought through jail visitation, being treated like I was the criminal.

Old friends would often gush, "Do you still sing?!" I would look at them with panic in my heart. No. I. Don't. Did I ever sing? When was that? Why did I sing? I can't even journal my own thoughts. Why would I sing? But I couldn't say that. It was a season. Cold. Harsh. Dark.

On the very day The Wood Artist was driving home from the oil fields for the last time, my father  was fighting for his life with bleeding ulcers (the effect of which he is still suffering). In cardiac distress, He was life-flighted to another city, a hemoglobin of 5. So, on a day I was supposed to be planning a welcome home celebration, I was actually scrambling for a plane ticket, hoping against hope I could make it in time. (I did. And he pulled through.)

The next few years were a struggle to readjust. When The Wood Artist left, we had children. When he came home, we had teenagers. I was so worried about finding our groove again, but honestly, it went very well. People would tease us that we couldn't count those four years of marriage since we hadn't lived together. I would say, "Honey! We get to count two for every one of those years!"

Still, the early spring can be barren, dirty, and unpleasant. We both went through mind-bending, head-shaking stress at our jobs. It was weird that we both had to deal with situations that left us completely unsure of the skills we had spent our lives honing. I decided to quit teaching. He wanted desperately out of work he is fabulously skilled at. We were broken and dizzy from the whiplash of it all. We leaned on each other hard. We prayed until we couldn't pray anymore. I begged for rest and relief.

It was during this time that I came to a few realizations:
    * I am not fairy princess.  I wasn't meant to be. I am a warrior princess. I have arrows in my quiver and I have a real cause to fight for. I live in a broken world and there is an enemy to fight. Bravely.
    * There are people to love. No matter how sucky my day is, it is my job to look for someone to bless.
     *The people you expect to be there during tough times are sometimes completely cold and silent, even cruel. Forgive them. They have their own struggles. Then there are others who you totally didn't expect. They come alongside. They quietly lean in and insert themselves into your life and say, "I'm here. I love you." Keep them and give thanks
     * There are still thousands of gifts. Every. Single. Day. It is my job to notice and give thanks.
     * I can choose what thoughts get to camp out in my head. Yes, really. If it isn't helpful, give it the boot.
   
Then God asked me to work with kids again.  Now, I hate the whole "God told me this or that" thing. I've seen it so freaking abused. But there was no doubt. He wanted me to hang my shingle and bless learning-different children again. I BEGGED and PLEADED for a different assignment. I cried for months and stomped my feet. There was no relenting. I knew what I had to do. Feeling completely broken and inadequate, I surrendered. I started my defunct business again. And you know.....after surrendering to obedience, my heart followed.  I love it in a way I didn't think I could. Yes, I'm still tired.  Yes, I still grieve the things I've had to give up, but I genuinely love ministering to my crazy-amazing, students who look at the world backwards and upside-down.  They pretty much rock.

The Wood Artist is a wood artist again and work is pouring in on him. His confidence is building back and he smiles more than I've seen in a while.

Laughing Water is at university now. She loves it and jumped into classes and jobs that make me wonder where she came from. She has learned that she loves being a social media ambassador, and totally loves the t.v. production room.  Who knew? She studied in England this summer on a brief study tour with some favorite professors and is looking into two programs overseas - one for missions and one for studying at Oxford. We frequently remind each other that we are warrioresses. She is mini-me in so many ways.

Mr. Blueberry Eyes works harder at his studies than any kid I've ever seen.  He is almost independent now and I'm reminded that miracles do happen.  He is literally in an honors writing class. "Severe, language-based disability" be hanged. His precious heart cheers me every day and his talents and physical strength blow me away.

My brother, Laughter, now lives with us and we are experiencing an incredible healing balm. The week he came I started to sing.  Just a little. I didn't even think about it.  It just slipped out.

It is fall and the colors are breathtaking. Seasons. Winter will come again. But so will spring and summer and fall. I am a warrioress.  God walks with me. He strengthens my hand to the bow and steadies my arrow.

Tigger is still behind the coffee counter chirping and laughing with customers. Where does she get her energy? Honestly! She has no idea she helped me find my words again.  Weird.  I must have been ready. - Nanette

Christmas 2017

Happy Christmas to all of our family and friends! Once again I didn't get cards sent this year, but that doesn't mean we didn't think of each of you. We pray you are healthy, happy, and full of hope. Last night we attended a Christmas service that spoke of the unspeakably wonderful gift of our Savior - the good news of GREAT JOY. Our prayer is that this hope and great joy warms each of your hearts.

So much has happened in our family in the last few years that if may be difficult to capture it in a short post, but I will try.

David has been home for over two years since working in the Bakken oilfields of North Dakota. It is so good to have him home and we shake our heads wondering how we managed for those years. This fall he started his own subcontracting company and keeps very busy building and remodeling houses. He is starting to pass on his woodworking expertise to Jalen and it is great fun to watch them create together.

This summer I restarted my reading therapy studio and in September I opened a second office in Kalispell.  I had taken a break from it to focus on family needs and decided it was time to get back in the saddle. It was sad to say goodbye to my humanities classes at the hybrid school that I taught at for the last two years and I continuously toy with ideas of how to blend my reading therapy with history, literature, and writing classes.  I'm excited about the future of The Reading Cottage. 

The last year has been a whirl of excitement for Brooke.  She graduated from high school in May, worked at a local coffee shop/restaurant and headed for Walla Walla University in September.  She is majoring in public relations and minoring in theology and the history of the Christian church.  She is thoroughly enjoying it so far.

Jalen is a freshman in high school and does a combination of home school and hybrid school.  He is making the transitional class work very well, but lives to spend time with his downhill skis and his horse. He just went on a 10 day trip to California with friends. He enjoyed seeing the sights, but couldn't wait to get back to his snow.

So that is our life in a nutshell....Merry Christmas to all! - Nanette

Season's Beginnings II

 One of the most exciting things happening in the garden this spring is the plethora of blossoms on some of my fruit trees.  I'm so excited to see what kind of a harvest we will have.  This is a pear tree.

 Those beehives in the background may be part of the success this year.

 A promising bud on an apple tree.

 I decided to try for myself the newly popular honeyberry. I purchased three bushes. There are two things that make this seem like a good idea.  Honeyberries are extremely cold hardy, reaching into zone 2. Also, unlike blueberries, they don't require a highly acidic soil. We have alkaline soil and, despite my efforts to change the pH of my soil, my blueberries haven't thrived. I'm looking forward to seeing if this berry will be a good fit for us.

 More Apple blossoms coming on.

 The elderberry bush is thriving!

 This old girl is quite the trooper. Puffle is five years old (as are my five other hens) and still looks lovely. She lays eggs and tenderly tends them. I'm still trying to figure out how to put the young pullets in with the older hens.  I have a few more weeks to figure it out.

 This is the first year that our plum tree is going crazy with blossoms. Its hard not to get excited!

 A shot of the other plum varieties grafted onto the same stock.

One of the currant bushes....

There is so much happening, I know there will be many more photo opportunities soon. - Nanette

Season's Beginnings

These colors, though! We had our first harvest yesterday. It was small, but exciting. (Its seems  early for lilacs, but I'll take them anytime!)

 The produce transferred beautifully to our breakfast this morning. I made these omelets from our own chicken eggs, a bit of orange pepper and the asparagus and chives from yesterday's harvest. At the end I added a bit of goat cheese and some vegetarian sausages. The crazy thing is the deep yellow of these eggs.  Each dish represents one whole egg and two whites, and it was still this rich color!

 I finished adding on to the asparagus bed this year. It has only two rows and I'd love to add more, but there is no more room. The first row is well established now, this being its 3rd season. It has just begun to push up spears, but I'm already impressed with the size, quantity, and quality.

The rhubarb bushes belong to our friend and neighbor, but we're allowed free picking. Looks like it is off to a great start.

 The starts under the lights are doing well. I was delighted to find a liquid kelp to add to the watering can. Kelp stimulates root growth and makes a strong and richly colored plant.

 These onion starts need to go in the ground tomorrow, if possible. I hope I can untangle them without too much damage!

 This is the garlic bed I planted last fall, mulched with leaves. It is loving our warm days and growing heartily.

 I'm experimenting with potato boxes this year. I spent the winter months pouring over information about potato boxes and have noted that the results are mixed. One tidbit I found is that you have to have an indeterminate potato. German Butterball is one variety that is indeterminate, so that is what went into these boxes.  We'll see how it turns out. (Many thanks to the Wood Artist for making the boxes for me. There are four more boxes waiting to be added as the spuds grow.)

Just in case, I also planted two rows using my favorite method. I lay the cut potatoes on the prepared bed (that is a light sprinkling of ash on the row). After this went a thick layer of well rotted hay and some straw. As they grow, I'll add compost and straw. I love how easy this method makes harvesting potatoes.  You just rake away the toppings and there are the little treasures. Then you till in the toppings and voila! You've just added a ton of organic matter to your garden. 

There are other exciting developments around the garden, but this post is long enough.  I'll have to do a "Part II". - Nanette

Spring Snippets

We had a mild winter, but spring is feeling very, well, long. Now that The Wood Artist is home from the Bakken, we're going to do a garden again.  The rest was needed, but does it ever feel good to touch the potting soil, read the seed descriptions, and open up the 10-year journal once again.

The tomatoes are up and I'm excited to taste an old favorite, Paul Robeson, as well as two new varieties. 

Granny Cantrell  caught my eye when I was researching heirloom seeds for a WWII Victory Garden project for  Humanities classes I teach to 3rd and 4th graders. Here's the description from the Baker Creek Heirloom Seed catalog:

     "This meaty beefstake-type tomato is named after  Lettie Cantrell, who received seeds from a soldier returning from Germany during World War II. She grew this tomato in the hills of Eastern Kentucky for many years. This was her favorite tomato and the only one she grew. Each year she saved seeds from the largest tomatoes, some of which reached 2 1/2 lbs. Our growers find it quite productive. Ahh! What a flavor! This variety was named best tasting tomato of the year at the 2006 Heirloom Garden Show in our taste testing contest.

Indigo Cream Berries Tomato is a cherry type tomato that boasted a stunning photo in the Territorial Seed Catalog. It is supposed to be tasty and the beauty is simply breathtaking. I can't wait to include it in my summer salads.

Those are the only tomatoes I'm starting under my grow lights. I'll round out the garden with a paste tomato and my favorite orange cherry tomato from my local friends' nurseries.

My alliums are looking a bit too willowy. I hope they beef up before it is time to transplant. I usually buy onion plants from Territorial, but I decided to save money and try growing from seed. That means I had to give up some tried and true varieties (I'll really miss my Red Zepplins.)

Here's what I picked:

Southport White Globe:  Its a long-day onion, so should go well in my northern garden. I love cooking with white onions and was excited that it is among the best keepers of white onions.

Brunswick: A red/purple onion also supposed to keep well. Flattened a bit.

Noordhollandse Bloedrode: (Don't ask me to say that!) Here's what the Baker Creek seed packet says: "(Dutch Red) Long-day type - The name translates as North Holland Blood Red, and these beauties are indeed a lovely, shiny ox-blood red. Large, slightly flattened onion are very pungent, which makes them good keepers in spite of their rather thick neck. They can also be grown for scallions as they often are in Holland. A good variety for Northern gardeners." I think I'll try them for scallions and keepers.

I'm also growing Giant Musselburgh Leeks. I love growing leeks, but I'm a bit worried that I didn't start them in time to get a good harvest this summer. Amazingly, even in my brutal climate, I've had them overwinter a couple of times.

Totally new to me this year will be shallots. I've been experimenting with cooking with shallots a bit and really love the flavor. Zebrune Shallot is how I chose to jump into the experience. Listen to this crazy description from Baker Creek:

      "Gorgeous heirloom French eschalion or 'banana' type shallot yields plump, long, torpedo-shaped bulbs. Bulbs are tinged with pink. The flesh is very mild and sweet, and large yields may be had starting the first year from an early planting. Excellent keeping quality makes these gourmet shallots useful over a very long season!"

Good grief! How can you not be taken in with that kind of a description!

I wasn't going to do cabbage starts this year, but Baker Creek sends these crazy good "Free Gift" packets and, well, I couldn't let them go to waste.

I planted several hot pepper and sweet pepper varieties, but none of them have come up yet.  Maybe I'll do a post on them later. - Nanette

Wagon Train, Part 4

I love this patriotic shot.

 When I first started this story, I said that I would do three parts. But, I couldn't bear to skip some of these.  I'll just breeze through some of these snapshots of fun and new friends. 

These horses are wearing a special netting to keep off the bugs.

On the buckboard one last time.

Peace

New friends

Believe it or not, the motion of the wagon lulls you to sleep!

Prairie Conversations

Two Friends, Two Horses, and a Corn Field

Laughing Water Directing a Play

Are These Teamsters Going to Get Their Lines Right?

Nothing Better than a Bunch of Friends on the Prairie

Good Conversation

Doesn't Get Better Than this for This Boy

Strangers One Day, Practical Jokes the Next

Laughing Water and Nanette with our Amazing Teamster, Mark