Lookin' good so far

Hey, y'all!

First and foremost, I came through the surgery yesterday just fine. Even though I haven't received the final report from the pathologist, Dr. CareBear did say that everything looked benign to him. Hurray! "Benign" has now replaced "beignet" as my favorite "B" word.

Just wanted to let everyone know the preliminary good news. I'll be out of computer range for the next week, but rest assured that I'll be back, in less lumpy form.

Now I'm off to enjoy the lovely high-octane pain pills that Dr. CB prescribed for me. Hope everyone else has a delightful (and on your end, drug-free) weekend.

Retail Therapy

I've read so many things about why mass-produced discount store crap is bad. Bad for the environment, bad for the domestic economy, bad for the solid puritan values of yore, and bad for the soul. Every irresistible little china bird statue, every adorable fitted tee with a green dragon silk screened on the front, contributes to the downfall of America and ultimately the planet. These are things that I don't need, and that some unfortunate is being paid pennies on the dollar to manufacture in squalid conditions. I know these facts. I agree with them. Even one of my New Year resolutions was to spend more wisely and buck the trend of consumerism.

So, why, in times of stress, does my refuge always turn out to be friggin' Target?

Yes, I had a wee shopping spree a couple of days ago. I didn't come home with much, but it is all breathtakingly useless junk that strikes a chord in my heart none the less.

First of all, I went into the cosmetics section for sunscreen and found myself strangely drawn to this eyeshadow. What insane colors! It was infatuation at a glance, even though I knew they'd probably look not just awful, but god-awful once applied.

Actually, they aren't half bad. Not what I'd wear to the church potluck, but very okay in an intergalactic peacock kinda way.

(BTW, I didn't buy the actual Sonia Kashuk duo - she wanted almost $8. My cheap butt trotted over to the Covergirl rack, where I found the same shades for $2.99 a pop. Ha!)

And then - the hat. Oh, lord, would that I could explain my love of hats. I look terrible in about 75% of them, but still I adore headgear. All except cowboy hats. These have never spoken to me. Could be related to an early childhood in Nashville, or an adolescence surrounded by faux buckaroos (not too many cattle ranches on a barrier island off Florida, but that didn't stop those boys with their Stetsons and their Wranglers and their snuff...but I digress). So I took this picture to so that I could mock it in this blog later.

Then, for fun, I tried it on. The damned thing looked really good. I threw it back on the shelf in horror and fled to the refuge of the magazine rack. But it called me back with its siren fake turquoise song. I bought it, and now must eat crow forever more. But at least I'll look fabulous while I'm chewing.

And finally, my finest purchase of them all. Truly a splurge for me is a hardcover book, but I had to have Michael Perry's lateset, entitled Coop: A Year of Poulty, Pigs, and Parenting. Michael Perry is a magnificent writer; he can coax poetry out of a vignette about weeding his garden. This is combined with the fact that he had a deep, grainy voice as rich and textured as the earth itself. Every time he reads his work on NPR, my toes curl and I sigh like a thirteen year old watching her Twilight DVD. He is my author crush. I hope that I never get to meet him, because I do not doubt for a nanosecond that I would make an abject fool of myself in his presence.

* * *

Red came home on Sunday! And with him came my desire to cook more than waffles.

First up: 101 Cookbooks' Anzac cookies. Delicious, I must say. I'm always on the lookout for new cookie recipes, especially ones without chocolate (Red has allergic reactions).

Then, to celebrate a new seasonal fruit, blueberry muffins from Madhuram's Eggless Cooking. Also darned tasty, though Red said not sweet enough. I think the lemon zest threw him, but I'll add more sugar next time regardless.

And finally, veganized avgo lemono soup. I'm a sucker for Greek food, and it slays me to pass this over time and time again at the diners in St. Augustine. However, One Chubby Vegan (Frecklefoot on the ppk forums) came to my rescue with this scrumptious recipe. You'll never mistake it for the real thing, but it does hit all the right notes all the same. I know that the picture looks vile, but that sucker just would not photograph nicely. Take my word for it - it's tasty. Recipe is here (you'll have to scroll down; it's the second post on the page).

And that will probably be it for a while. Tomorrow I go to the hospital to be sliced-and-diced, and as soon as I've recovered Red, Bean, and I will be on our way to visit the in-laws in Illinois. I'll put up a quick post on Friday to let you know that I survived the surgery. But after that, it may be a while before I get back into the kitchen or onto the computer.

Until then!

Just got back from putting pontoons on the Corolla

How on earth can we go from extreme drought to an almost full week of rain? Inky and I walked out of Target on Sunday evening into a down pour, and I don't think that it's stopped for more than an hour since then. Everyone in my neck of the woods is trying hard not to complain - God knows that we need this - but we're also spoiled rotten beach babies who resent the lack of golden vitamin D raining upon our sunburned little heads.

Still, some folks are keeping their humor:

(That's outside of Hamblen Hardware in St. Augustine. I highly recommend stopping in if you're in the area. I mean, they still have washboards for sale. Washboards for only $14! How can you beat that on pioneer laundry day?)

And some totally non-weather related humor:

I can't tell whether this bumper sticker is meant with a sneer or with breath-taking honesty, but I admired the guy's chutzpah all the same.

Speaking of Obama, this map in Barnes and Noble caught my eye, too. Our president is the king of marketing!Actually, the only reason I took a picture of that is because I was stalking another customer. One of the greatest things about living in Florida is the fact that you're surrounded by tourist attractions on all sides - and these magical wonderlands are staffed by your friends and neighbors, who in turn often have to earn their daily bread in colorful costumes. There was a whited-haired man in the St. Augustine Barnes and Noble dressed like a pirate: striped pantaloons, buckle shoes, red knee socks, elaborately laced and be-sleeved shirt. He looked profoundly out of place amongst the romance novels, may I tell you. I desperately wanted a picture of him, but he was giving off "don't bother me" vibes. I tried several sneak attacks to no avail; the map shot was a red herring to throw him off yet another attempt. He finally jumped ship while I was in the restroom dealing with a wet diaper. Foiled again!

* * *

So, what exactly have I been doing besides annoying the residents of a neighboring town with my Canon Power Shot?

Mostly waffling around:

I have love affairs with kitchen appliances from time to time. I've recently taken up with my waffle iron again. I admit that I'm not always faithful, but it's always waiting for the day I return. And now I've been romancing it heavily: the poor thing barely got a break from my intense loving on Wednesday night.

The weird thing above was my first creation - an attempt at a warm jam sandwich. I had one of those sandwich maker thingies in college, and I used to make amazing strawberry doughnut facsimiles back in the day. This one didn't turn out as well. Won't be repeating this experiment, I'm afraid.

Then I moved on to the iron's God-given purpose and started waffling. Pictured are gingersnap, multi-grain/walnut, and peanut butter waffles. The gingersnap ones are a take off on Celine's spekuloos waffle, and the multi grain ones can be found here (I've made these before, but I'm still mired in the process of veg*nizing and enhancing the recipe - the batter's a little thin for my taste).

And do you say that those peanut butter ones sound familiar? There's a good reason for that.

Yes, I've gotten my copy of Vegan Brunch, and I have to say that it's the reason I've finally shaken loose the cooking blahs. Too many divine eating finds are between those slim covers. I'm torn on what to try next: the smoked almond gravy, the potato spinach squares, the lemon-cashew crepes, and the coconut mango muffins are all crying out to me, begging me to tie on an apron and get busy giving them life. This kind of confusion is a good kind to have, though.

(And because I know that you're absolutely dizzy with envy over my elegant bowler hat, I have to point out that they are now available at a Target store near you).

Finally, I have a boob update: I went to see the surgeon on Thursday. He's incredibly sweet. I don't know if ever a cuddlier man existed, so I'll call him Dr. CareBear for bloggin' purposes. Anyway, Dr. CB said I need to be de-lumped, and scheduled that happy event for late next week. He doesn't seem particularly concerned about the lump's intentions; he thinks it's probably just a benign mass who's hitching a ride. This makes a third wildly disparate medical opinion in my trio of doctors. To recap: my general practioner doesn't know what it is; the radiologist thinks it's probably cancer; and the surgeon thinks it's probably just a lump. This leaves me officially confused. Therefore, I've decided to take my surgeon's advice and not worry about it, and instead concentrate my non-Bean attention on things that matter, like waffles and book store pirates. The only doctor whose opinion really matters won't get to weigh in until after the surgery, anyway. Back to zen-like calm and brunchy daydreams.

And I also wanted to extend a big THANK YOU to all the blogger buddies who extended good wishes my way. You're sweeties. If you're ever in Northeast Florida, be sure to stop by for a waffle of your choice :)

So now I'll leave everyone with this, found on the marquee at the Pot Belly Theater in St. Augustine:

Amen, brother.

My fiftieth post should really be much more fabulous than this

I haven't been updating my blogs, but I have a good reason - I haven't been cooking, crafting, or exploring new veggie friendly haunts around my neck of the woods recently. Instead, I've been rereading the same old books, playing stack-the-blocks with Bean, romping at beaches and parks, and subsisting on mostly rice and broccoli for dinner. Since Bean loves bread, I have been baking from my old trusty Artisan Bread in Five Minutes - and once again, I highly recommend it. Bean does, too.

The reason for my recent ennui is this: I've got a suspicious lump in my breast. I found it a few weeks ago, and took it straight to the doctor. From there I was ordered to the radiologist, who had many images done of said lump. He didn't like its looks. Now I'm waiting for an appointment with a surgeon, who will whip out a chunk and have it studied. After that, I will enter either the ugliest or the best time of my life, depending on the diagnosis.

I watched my father die from cancer (breast cancer, in fact - which is rare in men, but it does happen). It is a harsh, cruel thing, and the treatments for it can be terrible. If I'm sick, I know that I have a lot of struggle ahead of me. So I'm trying to enjoy life during this period where I'm feeling well. Red is still gone, so Bean and I have been taking day trips, playing in the park, and visiting Grandma as much as we can. It's been an odd three weeks in this way; I've been swinging between joy in my child, delight in all the fun we're having, moments of heart-freezing terror over what might be wrong with me, and a zen-style calm because it's all ultimately out of my hands.

The good news is that I have statistics on my side. I'm thin, fit, and healthy. Cancer is rare in women of my age group. And eighty percent of lumps like mine turn out to be benign in the end. Even if I do have cancer, mine looks like it's definitely in the early stages. So I should be able to beat this thing like a bowl of cake batter. It's just going to take a lot of effort. And ice cream.

So there it is. I know everyone's with me, so there's no need to leave any comments if you don't want to or don't know what to say. I just wanted to share and needed to vent. Thanks, y'all. :)

Now I'm going to return to my new hobby: glaring at my left boob and hissing "GO AWAY, you little bastard. Go away or I'm coming to get you!" I just want to remind that lump who's boss. And if it turns out to be benign, I'll apologize to it later.