Thoughts on mortality

It's been a long time since I blogged here. Sorry about that! It's been a full month—of work, of doctor's appointments, of slow but steady healing, of cow kisses and dog cuddles, of births and deaths in my small community.

I am having knee surgery Tuesday, for—at a minimum—bone fragment removal and cartilage repair. There may also be some cartilage grafting and ligament reconstruction. Whether my recovery timeline will be six weeks or six months, I don't yet know. In preparation for the procedure, I was asked to ensure my last will and testament, health care directive (living will), and durable power of attorney for health care were up to date.

This is a safe procedure, and my doctor and I feel great about going forward. I've seen an internist who gave my heart two thumbs up (I have a common and mild heart defect and a history of TIA), and I and my care team are absolutely confident that I'm going to be sitting on the couch Wednesday morning watching House reruns. Nonetheless, preparing these documents made me thoughtful about my own mortality in ways that were challenging and sweet.

I wrote an addendum to my living will, "My values regarding death," from the perspective of a 39 year old mother, for my three daughters just starting out towards adulthood. From the perspective of a daughter, for my healthy, active parents. From the perspective of one piece of the universe writing to another, and knowing full well that these particles will only travel together for so long before they disperse again. I wrote with tears falling down my face.

I hope to rewrite this document when I'm 80, 90, or 100, when my parents are no longer reading and my daughters are no longer young. I wonder if it will be as hard then, or as sweet.

In the words of my beloved friend Hilary, "Is today the day? Probably not. But maybe. Do what you want with that. It's a mystery to me, and probably will always be. Being OK with that is the practice."

I'm glad we're alive on this planet together today, you and me.

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Here are the Cloud Dog's X-Rays

Here, for your edification, are the X-rays of dear Paisley's leg. There is, apparently, no new break (since his Monday siezure) but there is, of course, a great deal of abnormality caused by years of living with a shortened ulna. His pronounced lameness, the vet says, may temporarily improve. Unlike me, Fenway Bartholomule, poor cloud dog can't expect much in the way of a full recovery. Not having the $$$$ for surgery to fuse the joint, we are working on making some sort of rigid splint to support the limb and prevent further degeneration. That is, the humans (with their space-age material inventions and their opposable thumbs) are working on making a splint; I am working on giving cloud dog brayful looks of support and encouragement every time he totters into the yard to relieve himself. As always, he fears me (me?!) and keeps his distance. Ears to you, Fenway

Continued . . .

Vegan Spring Rolls

I, Fenway Bartholomule, am a vegan: of course I only eat plants, not people! My human is too, so I'm sharing my blog with her today so that she can participate in the 2014 Virtual Vegan Potluck ! When you're done perusing the recipe for these delicious spring rolls, click "back" or "forward" for the entire potluck experience! Virtual Vegan Potluck: Spring Roll Appetizers Beautiful? Check. Healthy? Check. Delicious? Check. Easy? Check. Fancy? Check. Quick to clean up after? Check. Vegan? OF COURSE! If you're looking for something portable, colorful, and crowd-pleasing for your next potluck, look no further than these simple vegan spring rolls! The best part? You can substitute ANYTHING. I never make these the same way twice, so play around with cilantro, kale, cabbage, scallions, or whatever you think sounds good! Ingredients Veggie mix: 2 carrots (grated) 4 oz mung bean sprouts 1/3 cup chopped peanuts (raw, or roasted and salted) or ...

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A List

FarmWife has a to-do list, and "Ride the Mule" is sadly absent. The best thing on the list is "Muck out the Paddock," during which time I can enjoy the pleasure of her delightful company. The worst thing on the list is "clean the house," which is sure to take hours and hours which would be better spent rubbing my splendiferous ears. There's hardly even time for blogging on my transcriptionist's agenda, so I'll keep this short. Here, before I go, is the view from FarmWife's bedroom window at various levels of zoom: Your friend, Fenway

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Stripey schemes and meadow dreams

As you may recall, I am the proud resident of a very charming little barn—some might call it a shed—which shelters me in the winter from rain, and in the summer from sun. This spring Farmwife and Farmhusband decided it should be painted. Green, suggested Farmwife. Red, suggested Farmhusband. Teal, suggested Farmwife. Yellow, suggested Farmhusband. Stripey, suggested Farmwife? She was thinking of a retro Chevy squarebody (a quick Google search will show you what I mean), but didn't quite know how to make that practical on boards and battons. Farmhusband, who is a wizard, not only figured how how the stripes ought to go, but also arranged for the painting to be done. What I ended up with, almost in the blink of an eye, is the brightest, most cheerful, stripeavaganza of a barn. Even the neighbors are fond of it! In front of the barn is a vast expanse of grass which I am not allowed to sample on account of my laminitis. Not only is Farmwife opposed to letting me eat...

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BRAYS OF OUR LIVES

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