Invisibly Expensive

I'm feeling so grateful to be alive today. For some unknown reason, the sentiment is stronger than usual. It's palpable. It feels good!

I feel like one of the luckiest girls in the world. To have grown up on one of the most beautiful islands on the planet, to wander down to our pond with Kaal watching tadpoles morph into frogs, to collect beach glass on sunny days walking along South Beach. To be influenced by the gracious and reprimanding adults of the community that helped mold me. To learn from teachers who watched me grow from the time I was a toddler, pushing me to always challenge myself, to never settle. To get to experience Costa Rica as an exchange student in high school; realizing how amazingly different cultures are, yet noticing the similarities of human nature. That I was able to travel to Texas for college, experiencing the unique world of Southern Charm. That in my late 20's I was able to explore Thailand with only a backpack strapped over my shoulders. That I was nurtured by Friday Harbor and West Seattle friends who happened to live there, softening the blow of fear as I traveled alone. I was able to analyze who I was, who I wanted to be, what I believed in, and I spent a lot of time questioning the purpose of life. It was a time of epiphanies, of self growth. Then came deep love. True love. The partnering with my soul's mate. Which too soon, came the headache, the demanding of a MRI, and ultimately the moment that turned our lives upside down. That I survived the first tumor resection, then almost died from the blood clot in the tumor cavity. That I learned how to speak again, and read, and write, and walk, then run. That I have survived a second brain tumor, and now I'm fortunate enough to travel for medical care. That I am here, that I'm able to fight for my health. That I currently am without a tumor mass in my brain. It's amazing!  

Last night my buddy Jess and I were laughing about my body. We laughed because Dan and I may not have fancy things, or expensive cars. We don't own a house, or have any assets. Instead, last year alone, we had just shy of $90,000 of medical deductions for our taxes. And that's only the amount that the government recognizes as tax deductable, we had more that we could not write-off. Essentially, in one year, my body cost us over $100,000. It's weird, I'm not draped in name brands, or fancy jewelry, but I probably cost more than 90% of the outfits walking around even the most expensive stores. I am invisibly expensive. Like a diamond in the rough. 

It's humorous, the expense of my body, but at the same time it's kind of sad. I wish Dan didn't have to spend every extra dollar on my health. I wish he could fix up his car, or have a vacation that wasn't centered around a medical shot, or Dopa PET scan. I wish I could give him the wedding he deserves, or shoot, just provide the honeymoon (hubba, hubba). But we will never spend the money. We can't. 

I am deeply happy to be alive, to be able to walk outside and brush my fingertips across our beautiful blue hydreangeas, or kneel down to trace the back of my had across our soft lambs ears (yes, yes I know, technically they're weeds, but the bees and butterflies love them so much). I'm am immensely grateful to be alive, and when I feel disappointed by the inevitable burden that is placed on Danny and my parents (who provide the venom and help with the cherry sales and many things during surgery times and so much of my emotional support), I try to remind myself that we can always get 'things' later. That life won't wait. That my medical care isn't an option. We work so hard to get to the place that most people take for granted. It's not their fault, it's human nature. Young people aren't supposed to get sick. We're supposed to hearty, and healthy and invincible.  

When I feel sad about the things that Dan doesn't get to do, or how his life is changed by my health, I try and picture myself on the west side of the island being whipped by the salty air, or I anticipate the sweet scent of native blackberries that will permeate the air very soon. I just change the subject, and hope that my health will continue so that burden of me, and my care, will lessen. That someday we will be more normal. To not have such financial demands. That I will be able to someday fulfill Dan and my dream of owning a home, and for me to bear him children. It's scary to dream, especially in a world like ours that is so fluid, and unstable, but if you aren't dreaming, then you aren't living. And if you aren't living, you're just not dying.

Here's a delicious drink I created yesterday on my quest to survive this Seattle heat spell. My favorite part is the froth on the top, but if you don't like that just give it a quick swirl with a spoon before you poor. This is not a smoothie, it's light, and meant to be poored over ice.

Kale Cooler

1 liter coconut water 

1/2 cucumber (with peel)

5 large kale leaves (stems removed)

1 celery heart & leaves (I eat a lot of celery as snacks so I keep the hearts and leaves for my smoothies.)

1/3-1/4 cup mint (stems removed)

1-2 inches of ginger root (peeled)

Here's the nutritional information for the whole pitcher: 

The total calories for the entire pitcher: 348. You can add extra water to dilute and the concoction will go even further. I like to drink a full, regular glass, then I keep filling the cup with water because it retains some of the green goodness as flavor.

Don't just not die. Do something that makes you feel alive today. 

Coconut Wisteria Popsicle

It is so hot. Soooo hot. Looking for reprieve this afternoon, I decided to create a random popsicle recipe to make us happy, and distract us from our lack of AC. The 80's are tough, and there's rumors of 90's next week. Ugh. I'm such a mossback. I miss my rain.

Did you know you can eat wisteria flowers? They're delicious too! Don't eat the stems, though, or the leaves or seed pods. All those other parts are toxic, even deadly for young children, especially the seed pods. The flowers taste like butter lettuce with a tiny hint of honeysuckle. Very refreshing. 

Fresh off the vine! (Second round of blooming already this year.)

Ingredients

1 frozen banana (I keep them around in a pinch, you could use a raw banana too.)

2 cans of full fat coconut milk

1/2 cup shredded unsweetened coconut

1 small avocado (pitted & peeled)

1 cup wisteria flowers stemmed

Important to remove stems. If you have allergies you should remove the pistils and stamens too. (We don't so I left them in. I like the flavor, it gives a hint of honey.)

Blend everything (except for the flowers). If it is too thick, add just a bit of water, little by little.

Blend for a quick swirl, literally a pulse or two, leaving it nice and chunky so that you can see some flowers in the mix, along with the fiber of some of the chopped petals. Then you just pour it into the molds, and freeze them. Aren't they beautiful, and feminine? 

This recipe makes about 20 popsicles, each holding approx 109 calories. 

Here's the breakdown of macronutrients and nutritional information for one popsicle. 

You could probably use a lower fat coconut milk, but why? Fat is so good for you. It gives such a rich consistency, making it much more satisfying. I also noticed after eating it, my lips were softer which is an added bonus when everything is so dry.

Anyhoo, I hope you like it! Perfect recipe for a random Wednesday. I wish my niece Isla was with me today. She would have thought the whole thing was as cool as I did. There's nothing like a little scavenging for nibbles in the yard. 

Nature's Heartbeat

"Life is occupied with perpetuating itself and surpassing itself; if all it does is maintain itself, then living is only not dying."

That quote is from a random book I read over the weekend while staying at George & Diane Steed's guest house in Friday Harbor (my brother's wife's grandparents). I can't remember the name of the author, but I'm pretty sure the book is titled Voluntary Simplicity, or something similar of that nature. Reading it, as it was published before the mass of home computers and cell phones, was fascinating. In fact, the Steeds are facinating. The guest house had no TV, no radio, not even a clock, and I loved it. You could hear the crashing of waves from time to time, as they're out on the north end of the island just off the water, and it felt like a heartbeat; that I was snuggled safely in Nature's womb. Dan would still fiddle on his phone, but I completely powered down. We played Chinese checkers over decaf coffee in the morning, and listened the birds outside our window before bed. It was glorious. 

I visited mostly with Diane. She is so interesting, very well read, and curious, and happy, and kind. Dan and I noticed, as we were laying down for a nap one of the afternoons, how much of a treat it was to visit with people of the Steed's generation. We don't get to visit and hear stories from octogenarians very often. The stories we get are from books, or movies, or TV shows. They're often fabricated, or embellished, or extreme, or third party accounts. To hear from real people about their experiences, is a special treat. If I lived in Friday Harbor I would want to visit them all the time. Listening to their stories is like being told unique secrets. Secrets that so few get to hear. 

Life happens in the blink of the eye and each moment I get to spend hearing other people's life stories, the things they've seen, the lessons they've learned, the views they have formed - especially those with some experience under their belt - helps mold me into a more compassionate and open minded person. And it helps me grasp the enormity and the subtleties of the human journey. 

While we were there, we had another rainbow sighting, again with no rain. She popped up while we had been watching the 4rth of July parade, and had to sneak off to do venom. Dan's mom drove the venom down from her fridge and as I laid in the back seat of the car, and Dan dropped the drips into my nose, with my head hanging out the door, I looked up and saw my friend the rainbow. If I had not been upside down, I would never have seen her. Sometimes, even when you don't know it's there, you're being protected, watched over. 

And finally a picture of one of my best buddies, my niece Isla. 

If you look to the back, between Isla and my head, you can see Dan in the background. 

Happy 4th!