perfection

i gave myself a small bit of my afternoon to get lost in blogland...
my favorite find is yoran morvant's newest line at ashes and milk.

a simple sneeze, a simple bid of good health...

for two solid months, i have been in pain. it started as an annoyance that gave me the perspective to rethink my movements. it progressed to a constant debilitating presence that kept me uncharacteristically inactive. it's latest stage has left me always on the verge of tears, filled with more worry than i will admit to anyone, at the very edge of patience. and this is speaking not a thing of the physicality of such endured agony. no break. no relief. no rest. no end. no life.
i sneezed.
i broke.
i thought my spine cracked. it was blinding, splitting, almost paralyzing.
the next day i was able.
to walk, leap, dance, live, exist... like normal.
i am still able.
and so i shall remain.
k
(above is a lovely gift from a patient sister. see more lovelies here. i am grateful.)

a slow morning with rumpled sheets

finally time together.
a bit of radio. a bit of laughter. a bit of breakfast.
a perfect beginning.

filled to the brim with tea

i was happy yesterday to visit with my dear friend who knew exactly what i needed... warm brownies, warm tea, warm ollie kisses, and warm friendship. delightfully cheery daffodils were a pleasant surprise.
thank you, shanna.
k.

the night of escape.

i am looking forward to watching the academy awards this evening. it is a guilty pleasure to watch the pomp and circumstance of it all. i'll be donning my most comfortable pajamas for the affair, while snacking on a super-addicting homemade version of kettle corn:


1/3c unpopped popcorn
4tbsp canola (or whatever) oil
1tsp vanilla extract
~2 tbsp sugar (for the sweeter tooth, a little more won't hurt)
in a heavy saucepot (or stovetop popcorn cooker) mix all ingredients and cook, covered, over medium heat until popcorn is popped, stirring, or swirling, regularly. immediately pour onto a cookie sheet to sprinkle with salt, and cool. in a few minutes it'll be cool enough to break up and enjoy.

i hope you enjoy the escape to hollywood as well...
k

soldier on, soldier on

thank you. i wrote the last post with a head less level than usual. i fear i've worried a few friends more than this condition warrants. i'm fixable. but frustrated. (though, i feel that the simple act of venting a little has let me now return to a calmer place. this calmness could also be attributed to the hesitant success of the new medicine, which is keeping the swelling, and thusly the pain, at a tolerable level. time, two weeks perhaps, will tell).


after a late dinner of hearty, wintry greens with mushrooms and pasta, i'm full, settled, and trying to keep an upwards and forwards facing head. h.m. will be finally home. for good. in a few days. i'm looking forward to getting to know us together again, anew; he's been away a while.
i, too, have been getting to know well a noble beast, among other animal collective... new music is a tea warm and soothing to my cool, wintered self.
i am usually very antsy for the coming spring by now, and if i give in to the distant thoughts of the smell of warm air, the fresh earthy green stems poking out of the ground, and the chilly, blanket-wrapped evenings on a porch, i will surely be pining... but, one look outside tonight at the beautiful fresh snowfall, i am back to a contented end of winter. i'm enjoying this still.

a happy weekend to you all.
k.

too many two weeks...

photos courtesy of wikipedia

i'm trying to maintain a respectable, mature level of patience. i'm trying to find some comfort with an uncomfortable body. i'm trying to not get my hopes up with each doctor's visit. each time, i'm told to try ____* and come back in two weeks. i'm beginning to wonder if i'm effectively expressing just how debilitating this is; i don't get the impression my doctors are taking me seriously. i'm in tears each night, from sheer frustration and pain. but, it's not life-threatening (just quality-of-life-threatening.), so two more weeks it is.

the health care industry is in existence for one reason (admittedly with many others underlying), and that is to help people. was i naively optimistic in thinking that this would supercede the insurance red tape, the fear of committing to the wrong diagnosis, and the appearance of indifference?
it is so hard for me to have such cynicism, but i know it's born of frustration, and is quite temporary. perhaps it will be gone in two weeks.

k.

*first it was an NSAID and physical therapy. now it's a steriod and more physical therapy.

my kindered art spirit

top photos by: David Stewart
bottom photo by: Rose DiSalvo

my wonderfully good friend, nick (the beautifully backlit boy above) puts on operas. i'm astounded by their talent. and their ability to take a room, a parachute, and a spectacular group of musicians, and put on a humblingly-incredible show.
in about a month, opera cabal will be having a benefit. i cannot wait to go to a swanky manhattan high-rise apartment for what is sure to be a great party. nick tells epic tales of these parties. (which is actually more telling of nick than of these parties.) they will be hosting an auction of various arty goods and services, among them a new knit clutch i've been thinking about. hopefully.
i'm looking forward to a long weekend in new york... i will surely be able to walk around and enjoy the city a bit. it's been far far too long since i've been.

(i have high hopes for tomorrow.) a happy day to you all.
k