Best Day of Life

Life List #5 - On Top of the World, part 2

2011-11-17T21:00:00.000-08:00

(see part one of the story here)

Chris and I spent the night before in Fairplay - arriving at nearly midnight and waking after a restless night at 3:30. I'd brought instant oatmeal which we ate liberally loaded with nuts and drank hot tea. I desperately hoped this would be enough to power us through the start of the day. We had a store's worth of REI gear on our persons. I'd bought anything and everything - I had no idea what to expect.

Was I actually going to climb a fourteener?

At 5:00 am we met Mike (my boss) and our friend Brian at the Kite Lake trailhead. It was dark, and Chris and I were quickly outfitted with borrowed headlamps, gloves and poles. All of my extra weight had been redistributed among our crew. Adrenaline quickly replaced my knotted stomach and my four-hours of sleep addled anxiety.

OMG. I was going to climb a fourteener.

The first thing that Mike told us was that we were going to go slow. Really really slow. Even slower than I thought I had ever gone before. So slow that we would be frustrated and want to go faster. That slow. Did we get it? Slow.

The second thing was to remember to breathe. Breathe deeply and continuously. This might sound elementary but have you ever noticed when exercising that you sometimes forget to breathe? It is key as you start gaining vertical feet.

Admiring the ice crystals that were everywhere.

As we started getting closer to the ascent part (the trail was very long), I began to notice something particularly troubling. Everything was coated with a thin sheet of ice. By everything, I mean the trail had turned from dirt to rocks. And the rocks were solid black ice. Yikes.

Ping pong goodness

The darkness finally eased into light and someone commented that it was like being inside a ping-pong ball. We were in a cloud of fog - or maybe just a cloud - we were already at about 12,000 feet.

Um, hello. I was freakin' climbing a fourteener!

See the ice coating my hair. My hairsicles. It was everywhere.

We stopped at 13,000 feet to check pulse ox rates. Mine had slipped to 85. Breathe, I was told. Don't talk, just breathe.

Nanuk of the Mosquito Range

We powered up with electrolyte gels and water as we hit 14,000 feet. Another check of the pulse ox showed mine back up to 95. It never fell below 94 for the remainder of the climb.

Don't be fooled by the sun. These rocks were icy.

One foot after another and all of a sudden, we were there. We were at the top of Mt. Democrat at 14,155 ft. We'd climbed two miles and 2,300 vertical feet. That's a 20% grade. My pulse ox was 95, my heart rate was about 145.

I had just climbed a fourteener!

But wait! There's more...

Life List #5 - On Top of the World, part 1

2011-11-16T20:24:00.001-08:00

In August of 2008, my Sunday night small group spontaneously decided to try to climb Mt. Bierstadt. A noble attempt, but we were sadly turned away from the summit - or even close to the summit - by rain and snow. In August.

A September climb of Mt. Elbert yielded similar results - hail stopping us only 100 feet higher than on Bierstadt. Mountain climbing was hard. I was painfully slow, struggled with the heart rate in my nerveless heart, and it seemed as though the weather was always against us. I decided then and there that mountain climbing was not for me. Long hikes, yes. Vertical feet? No.

Fast forward to September 2011. My boss calls me into his office. What's your work out regimen, he asked. You in good shape?

Not particularly phased by the question - we are a fit office and workout routines are a common conversation topic - I launch into a litany of my cardio and strength training regimen. Sometime over the spring I'd amped up my fitness schedule so I was excited to talk about it. Something just clicked into place with me and exercise over the past several months, but that is a topic for another post.

Great, he said. How about on Thursday we climb a fourteener?

Say what?!?

My initial reaction was no. No. NO. I had a heart transplant a mere five years prior. Had this been forgotten? And what about all this business about my speed? I was slow...way slow... excruciatingly slow. Oh, and my heart rate is cray-zee. Like interval training - it would speed up to the top of my target range while climbing and then I would need to slow down until it hit the bottom before starting the process all over again. It took at least an hour for it to settle at a steady rate. I was a hot mess on a mountain plus, most importantly, I had never even been over 12,000 feet outside of a car.

So of course I said yes.

(to be continued...)

Link Round Up: Head Explosions

2011-11-11T20:15:00.001-08:00

I am on instant message all day at work. Occasionally Chris likes to brighten my day by sending me the most adorable pictures he can find. A smattering of what was sent this week.

Puppies!

Kittens befriending birds!

Dogs being clever!

Look at HIS PAWS!!!

Little one who was saved

And the winner...oh yes... the absolute winner...

Tigers and piggies - WITH BOWS!

Excuse me while I go pick up pieces of my brain.

The Story of a Window

2011-11-10T22:39:00.001-08:00

An ordinary casement window...

Meets a very large saw.

Big hole in the wall.

Big hole in the ground.

Ordinary window...now a lovely escape window!

A Murmuration

2011-11-09T13:09:00.000-08:00

I have seen the pigeons in downtown Boulder swoop and fly from building to building in packs. I know that pigeons are germ infested city rats, but you can't help but see the joy in their aerial tumblings. But this takes the cake. Absolutely stunning.

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

On Not Going Gently

2011-11-07T22:56:00.000-08:00

So, what happened in there, the night of my biVAD surgery?

I was sitting with my surgeon, Dr. Awesome, almost a year after my transplant. He was late to the appointment by almost 90 minutes - his last of the day - but had called ahead to his nurse to ask if I would mind waiting. We were there, ostensibly, to talk about my wiring.

My chest wires to be specific. The ones that sort of look like twist ties wrapping around my sternum were poking me from the inside. None of the options were worth the inconvenience of living with being poked so we continued on to other subjects.

I actually knew full well what had happened on the night of November 7, 2006. I'd managed to get my hands on my medical records and had pored over them with the help of Google to translate the medical terminology. I'd read the timeline of events and frankly, there in the stark black and white of the doctors' messy handwriting, it hadn't seemed nearly as dire as I had heard.

He told me the surgery had started out well, especially for someone who was hanging by a thread, in multiple organ failure and on a balloon pump with a heart beat that was as steady as a popcorn machine. Once the biVAD was in, by all accounts, the operation was a success.

And that's when something bad happened. My blood wouldn't clot. I wouldn't stop bleeding. They did everything, he said. I was loaded with as many clotting agents as probably exist. They talked about just leaving me open to monitor, but in the end decided to close me up and hope for the best. All in all, I received enough transfusions to replace my body's blood at least three times over. He stopped talking for a second. It was out of our hands, he finally said.

It was your will to live.

Even now, I still have a hard time finding the words to describe what happened that day. The day where everything bad that can happen to a heart happened. The day that my family (and friends) pulled together around me like a sweater. The day that God did something that I can never deny.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
- Isaiah 43:2 (NIV)

Link Round Up - Crafty Goodness

2011-11-05T22:55:00.000-07:00

Oh, for an extra hour in the day! There would be no limit to what us crafty types would accomplish!

Of course, sleep is always a terrific option too :-)

For those of you like Chris and me who think the crust is the best part, these lattice cookies look to die for.
Can art be practical? Yes! Especially if you have tons of thread laying around. Make them beautiful with this framed spool holder.
Just what I need...another afghan to make. But this Missoni pattern and the colors have already spurred me to look through my yarn stash.
Once we figure out how to bring more light into the hallway, these herb planters are going up. It's not like we don't have plenty of mason jars.
This painting is definitely going to be made for the new office. I planned it even before I picked the office colors.

I can tell I am going to be busy when the choir season ends.

Book Review: The Diamond Age

2011-11-05T22:34:00.000-07:00

I was one of those kids whose nose was always in a book. Summer vacations were heaven - Lisa and I would check out books by the dozen and plow through them book after book in the heat of the day. Even on vacation to visit my grandparents in Illinois, we would borrow my uncle's library card to feed our voracious book appetites.

I sort of fell away from reading for many years. I don't know why...perhaps it was time or access or maybe I was burnt out after college. But sometime a few years ago, I decided to get back into books by reading one book a month. It was a success and I was re-hooked.

This was my first Neal Stephenson book. Chris is a huge fan and always engrossed in one of his many ginormous trilogies - The Diamond Age had the benefit of being a standalone novel and definitely not as long as the others. The only other cyberpunk novel I've read was Neuromancer by William Gibson which I enjoyed but found confusing. I was hoping that the somewhat simpler sounding premise would prove a bit more accessible.

Since I want to get on with my review, rather than wasting time trying to summarize this intricate novel, I will just borrow from the very simplistic book description on Amazon:

Set in twenty-first century Shanghai, it is the story of what happens when a state-of-the-art interactive device falls in the hands of a street urchin named Nell. Her life—and the entire future of humanity—is about to be decoded and reprogrammed…

Stephenson is a world builder. He drops you into what feels like a story already in progress and uses this structure to guide the reader through the intricate society of this 21st century future. There is lots of technology - most of it nanotechnology which is as common as germs are today. Actually, the nanotechnology has replaced the germs. There is also seemingly magical sounding technology - like paper that automatically populates with your newspaper and/or media choices. Hrm. Sounds sort of familiar already.

There is so much world and major character building happening I found the story starting with a bang only to be bogged down in the mire of description. But through all this, Stephenson is laying the foundation so he can effortlessly take the reader through his world when the action starts. Once Nell finds the Primer (the interactive device referenced in the book description), both she and the story begin to come to life.

The book pleasantly (even if the developments themselves are harsh) meanders its way through what seem to be unrelated events and after a time, I found myself completely engrossed in this world. I was excited to see the next chapter of Nell's life and also how the other young girls of her age reacted to their own copies of the Primer.

However, somewhere along the line, it seems as though Stephenson forgot that along with this crazy world of nanosites, Source Feeds and mysterious hive mind societies that live under the ocean, there is also a plot happening. Somewhere towards the end, he brings into the picture a conflict in the making that (to me) had no foundation laid - nothing like what he had been doing up until that point. In (literally) 50 pages he introduces these new characters, Nell's pivotal moment and also wraps up the whole story. Without spoiling it, a little bit of background on the Fists would've been nice and also would've helped build the tension since apparently Nell's situation was quite dangerous, unbeknownst to this reader. After 450 pages of details and progressive tension, this quick finish felt flat to me. Even the tone changed to sort of a third party objective tone and while the ending is somewhat tidy, I still turned the page expecting a new chapter.

All in all, I would give the book 4/5 stars for great world building and character development and for an original exciting plot. It loses the final star for the sort of haphazardly thrown together ending.

Previous book: The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak [not reviewed].
Current book: Left Neglected by Lisa Genova

Some Random Sentences on a Thursday Night

2011-11-03T22:45:00.000-07:00

Sitting down at 11:30 and expecting brilliance in a blog post is a huge disappointment. But it is the whole point of NaBloPoMo. Just write!

For the third time in an hour, my dog has randomly started barking at something only she can hear. Shut up, dog.

So glad that we moved from the stuffy rehearsal room to the choir loft at the church for Sine Nomine practice. Instant morale boost - you can't help but sound terrific in that space.

Airing our dirty laundry - there is clean laundry all over the house. The couch is covered with towels and the bedroom has three overflowing baskets of clothes. If we had more baskets, we would never fold clothes.

I am about ready to finish The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson. Look for a review here soon. I have nine books to read by the end of the year to make my goal. I am looking for recommendations on short interesting books. Leave 'em if you got 'em.

Really ready for the weekend. Anyone else?

Life List #30 - My Hair

2011-11-02T23:02:00.000-07:00

"Your hair is so long!"

"Yes, I know. I call it my Second Chance Hair."

What is second chance hair? Simply put, it is the hair you get after a traumatic medical event has taken your original(ish) hair. When I left the hospital in 2006, be it the combination of terrible eating, intense stress, lots and lots of new drugs and lack of sleep, I lost a ton of hair. I remember staying to my transplant coordinator - "how can I be growing hair everywhere else and losing it on my head. I am turning into a man!!!"

I was really hopped up on steroids at the time.

My heart failure hair was thin and dry. It was long in my youth but after a while, shorter became the obvious (and much better) way of keeping it.

Then I had it cut super super short in the hospital. It was a great cut, and far easier to keep it out of the blood and the ick and the lack of washing. In the final six weeks I was in the hospital, my hair was washed a whopping 3-4 times. And that included two open heart surgeries. Yikes.

But then it started growing back - darker, curlier and thicker than before. Everyone had an opinion, but it was always...

Hey look at your second chance hair.

Mothers told me that their hair after pregnancy was different. Cancer survivors said the same after chemo. My hair was a visible reminder of the beauty of my heart. Was it increased blood flow? Cyclosporin? Or a secret gift?

#30 - Grow my hair to my waist.

Check.

NaBloPoMo - Day One

2011-11-01T21:01:00.000-07:00

Hey look! I have a blog! And wow, no updates since June 2010? Tsk, tsk...for shame, Hassell.

So for some reason, November in the interwebs tends to be a "National To Something Every Day" month. There is Gratitude Months (a fine idea, I might add), NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month, which I seriously considered) and then NaBloPoMo. Writing a blog post a day sounded less daunting than writing the 1600 words per day required to get a novel done and slightly more challenging than writing one thing per day for which I am grateful.

Not that I am not grateful. As a matter of fact, several of these blog posts over the month of November will probably be brimming with gratitude. Cuz it is November and that's how I roll, people.

Anyway, welcome back to Best Day of Life. Let's see where this all goes.

My Life List (part the first)

2010-06-08T21:58:00.000-07:00

When I first read Maggie Mason's Mighty List project, I was intrigued. Her theory is that the act of writing such a list is in and of itself transformative and secondly, if you put what makes you happy on the list, then doing the items on your list will contribute to a happier life. It's basically a bucket list, but without the whole "kicking the bucket" aspect - something which I, a detester of "over the hill" parties and the like - certainly appreciated.

I played around a bit with some of the things that I would put on my own list, making vague notes here and there, and when she finally posted this, I was inspired enough to write my own.

So without further ado, here is the first part of my own Life List...I plan on blogging about the good stuff (which, because of its virtue of being a Life List, is all of it.)

Read the entire Bible.
Visit five Colorado landmarks (Royal Gorge, Dinosaur National Park, etc)
Take the train to Glenwood Springs
Taste 100 cocktails
Climb a 14er
Visit ten Colorado museums
Visit ten national museums
Scrapbook my Life List
Sew something that I actually wear
Visit Hadrians Wall
Eat pho in Saigon
Cook my way through an entire cookbook
Visit all 50 states (continuing from where I am at now)
Design and create a font
Go on a girls-only trip with my best girlfriends
Taste 100 unique desserts
Attend a taping of The Daily Show or the Colbert Report
Write my freakin' book
Go a full week eating all my food made from scratch (by me)
If it isn't beautiful or useful, get it out of my house
Submit a funny picture to I Can Haz Cheeseburger
Host a really swanky dinner party
Read the Big Read 100 books as ranked by the BBC
Leave a secret in a Post Secret book
Get a tattoo to honor my heart donor
See the glaciers in Patagonia before they disappear
Read Entertainment Weekly's list of new classics
Dine at the French Laundry
Learn how to alter/tailor my own clothes
Grow my hair to my waist - CHECK
Volunteer for Meals on Wheels
Learn how to knit and make scarves and handwarmers
Learn how to use my DSLR on its manual settings
Get in the habit of grand loving gestures
Create family archive scrapbooks
Get paid to write

There you go! The first 36!

Going Back

2010-02-20T18:59:00.000-08:00

This week I had my annual heart transplant tests - a right heart cath, a left heart cath (aka, I believe, an angiogram), an echo, a VO2 max treadmill stress test and a kabillion labs. The only thing missing from this day of fun was a biopsy, aka the rejection test. Unbeknownst to me, the clinic has stopped doing biopsies for everyone over two years out providing that 1) you are not presenting any rejection symptoms, 2) there have been no med changes, and 3) you have a good history. So no neck poke. Hooray!

Annual test day, in a word, is tough. The tests span two opposite ends of the spectrum - running on a treadmill with snorkel gear in your kisser to flat on your back, stoned on the "juice," and keeping your leg still for four hours. And in between, there are EKGs (at least two), blood draws, IV insertion (three attempts this year) and multiple exposures of any and all body parts. Including the ones that have nothing to do at all with your heart. AT ALL.

I can't help think when I'm doing all this that for 3 1/2 months - and really for the first two years post transplant - that this was my life. I'd automatically extend an arm to a nurse for a draw, it was second nature to rattle off my extensive drug list (including dosages) and I could give you a medical history so fast and complete it would make your head spin.

And I can still do those things (and did) but these year was different. This year, I RAN on my treadmill test for almost a minute - at an 18% grade. That is like running up Mount Massive (okay, for a minute, but still!) I exceeded my age potential by 103% - most heart transplants, due to our physiological differences, don't get to 75%. When I commented that I'd been doing interval training, the doctor warned, "but the test has an incline." To which I responded, "yeah, when I'm not doing intervals, I'm nearly at the machine's incline potential." 'Nuff said.

This year, the number one question was if "I'd gone back to work yet." There were actual looks of surprise when I answered, "Um, yeah...I've been working since five months post-transplant. And yes, I am back full-time. More than full-time some days."

And when the X-ray technician asked me if I "was a good walker" for one second, I wanted to throw that 103% in her face and then sprint to the machine, although despite the fact that I am a GREAT walker, I would've fallen on my doped up ass.

And then I remember that I could've run into the hospital straight from an Ironman competition and that wouldn't change a thing. To them I am a patient, the girl who survived one of the last of the old school bi-VADs, the girl who had her blood replaced three times in twelve hours, the girl who could barely walk when she left the hospital. And I was all those things - without those things, I wouldn't be who I am now. I am so grateful for that experience which gave me my life.

So even if the hospital never sees me as more than my patient number, I know that I am the woman who hiked nine miles in one afternoon on the Colorado trail, who indeed works a full schedule (plus extracurriculars), who dreamed of scrapbooking (literally) while on the cath table instead of grilling the doctors and happily left with her wonderful husband late Tuesday night to go her home with her pets - back to this incredible life.

Best Peanut Butter Cookies Ever

2010-02-08T21:05:00.000-08:00

Right now...

Go into your kitchen. Preheat your oven to 350 F.
Using a stand mixer, mix 1 cup of commercial peanut butter with 1 cup of brown sugar, 1/3 cup of white sugar, 1 egg, 2 tablespoons of vanilla and a pinch of kosher salt together until combined. Add some orange zest if you are feeling springy.
Using a little ice cream scoop (or a spoon), form into balls. Place on a parchment paper lined sheet pan. Resist the temptation to smash them down. They spread a little so leave some room between them. Top each cookie with a little chunk of bittersweet chocolate. Sprinkle some kosher salt (or sea salt) over the pan.
Bake for about 12-15 minutes in the oven to cook the egg and to set.
Let them cook on the cookie sheet for about 5 minutes before removing to a rack.
Try not to eat them all in one sitting.

These would make a great hiking cookie. And they make an excellent scrapbooking cookie.

Recipe taken from the Amateur Gourmet and tested by me on Friday. It is originally a Paula Dean recipe. Who knew she could make something without butter?

Italian Chicken Sandwich

2010-01-28T21:13:00.000-08:00

I am one of those people that takes their camera everywhere. It is always in my purse. So why can't I remember to take pictures! I decided to blog this yesterday - after we'd eaten and cleaned up - hence I only have one picture.

For some reason, this dinner reminded me of my dad. I don't think he's ever made it for me, but it just struck me as something that he *would* make. So I am officially claiming this is "Dad Inspired Cuisine."

Italian(ish) Chicken Sandwiches

- 1 pound of chicken breasts (you could make with less if you want to be more frugal)

- 1 zucchini, diced

- 1 red pepper, diced

- 1/2 medium onion, chopped

- 2 cloves garlic, minced

- 1 14 oz can of crushed tomatoes

- Dried basil and oregano

- Fennel seeds (these totally make the dish!)

- Rolls

- Parmesan or Romano cheese

In a skillet, saute the zucchini, red pepper, onion and garlic until everything is soft and the onion is translucent. Add a generous sprinkle of the fennel seeds and cook for a about a minute longer. Transfer to a plate. In the same skillet, add the chicken and saute until cooked through. Return the vegetables to the skillet, add the tomatoes and add a generous sprinkle of the basil and oregano. Season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer until you've got all the rest of your dinner ready. Serve on the toasted buns topped with the cheese.

This dish is extremely customizable based on your dietary needs. As it stands, it is fairly low fat. For a low sodium version, use unsalted tomatoes, don't season with the salt and pepper, top with fresh mozzarella and serve over pasta cooked in plain water. If you aren't a fan of the veggies, swap them out with veggies you do like (eggplant would be great in this as would mushrooms.) And it is fast for a busy weeknight.

Anyway, thanks for the inspiration, Dad!

A Little Bit Obsessed

2010-01-26T09:00:00.000-08:00

You know it's bad when the fabric lady at Hobby Lobby says "another bag?"

Bag: Basic Messenger Bag

Fabric: Hobby Lobby

Monday Monday

2010-01-25T07:00:00.000-08:00

Another confession time and this time not about Twilight. I actually like Mondays. Not a huge revelation to be sure, but common wisdom dictates that I should hate them. Despise them even.

Not so here. Mondays, while even though they mean I have to go back to work, also represent a fresh start, a chance to hit the re-do button on my chore list and everything, at least right now, is organized and ready to go. I also have FIVE full days to get all my stuff done. It's never a good realization when it's Thursday and you still have miles to go before finishing your week's work.

So there you have it. Mondays rock! Tuesdays...now that is a totally different story.

Friday Link Roundup

2010-01-22T19:06:00.000-08:00

An eclectic collection of links this week...

When I was in elementary school, I had two favorite educational films. One featured all sorts of things magnified into futuristic landscapes using an electron microscope and the other was super slow-mo film capturing various things like bullets being fired through an apple. This collection of high speed photographs clearly invokes the latter. Super sweet.
From the "who knew?" category: The World Beard and Mustache Championships
The best response I read to Clay Shirky's sexist rant against women. I am putting out the best response - not the link to Shirky's essay. If you want to read that drivel, you can find the link there.
The funniest thing I saw all week, hands down. Oh Stephen, is there nothing you won't do?

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Skate Expectations - Speedskating Race - Shani Davis

www.colbertnation.com

Colbert Report Full Episodes

Political Humor

Economy

Happy weekend!

Today

2010-01-21T22:02:00.000-08:00

(this is Thursday's post, but Vimeo was slow to upload and convert last night so here it is today...)

Surprised a co-worker
Had dinner with my girl (fab enchiladas, Liz!)
Bemoaned the fact that peanuts are not actually nuts (criminal, I say!)
Cleaned up cat pee
Wore a new pair of boots
Walked in an alto and out a soprano

And solved this mystery...

Super Doggy from Txgrrl on Vimeo.

In Progress

2010-01-20T22:24:00.001-08:00

A messenger bag

Learning how to create argyle. Still not quite there yet.

Commemorating an excellent vacation

Creating music files

And figuring out how my dog trapped herself in the forbidden living room - ALL DAY - while leaving all the baby gates perfectly intact. Hrm....

Twilight v. The Bear

2010-01-18T21:28:00.000-08:00

This post is treading on ground that some might hold near and dear...but it is all about keepin' it real, so,

Internet, I confess that I just can't get into Twilight; however, if I am honest, I should preface this by saying that I was starting reluctantly as I am not a fan of vampire stories in any media form, but had received several glowing recommendations with most noting that Twilight wasn't really a vampire story and besides, I needed something light since I had just finished this...

The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone. Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away. - Return of the King, JRR Tolkien

and going from that to...

The meadow, so spectacular to me at first, paled next to his magnificence. - Twilight by Stephanie Meyers

was jarring and boring (I hate to say it), but since I wanted to give Twilight a fair shake, I put it down to read, at the request of a friend, The Bear by William Faulkner all the while expecting, to be honest, to hate it and harboring the hope that that perhaps I could alternate the heavier reading with Twilight remembering that

I had avoided Faulkner like the plague in college although I think now, that I was confusing him with James Joyce, but even so, I'd heard that there was a sentence, one sentence, that was SIX pages long, but I hardly even noticed, so riveted I was by the startlingly deep beauty of the prose, the feeling that I am alongside this deeply involving drama that isn't just about a hunt for a bear, but the hunt for a past and redemption that isn't easily forthcoming and by the time I hit the climax of the hunting scene, I found myself reading faster to pace with my breath and my heart was pounding when I put the book down...now that's some good writing:

He watched it for the next two years from that moment when Boon touched Lion's head and then knelt beside him, feeling the bones and muscle, the power. It was as if Lion were a woman - or perhaps Boon was the woman. That was more like it-the big, grave, sleepy-seeming dog which, as Sam Fathers said, cared about no man and no thing; and the violent, insenstive, hard-faced man with his touch of remote Indian blood and the mind almost of a child.

I think Twilight's going to have a wait a little bit longer.

Friday Link Roundup

2010-01-15T20:56:00.000-08:00

A collection of some of of the things this week that inspired me...

- Haiti earthquake relief from Compassion International

- Remembering the wonderful times my family used to have on our trips to Helena, thanks to this beautiful post on my dad's blog

- A summoning spell for your lost cameras (do it now before you lose it!)

- Holy crumb. I need some apples - this cake is on the list for the weekend.

- Now that we own this, some serious discipline is going to be needed if we are going to get anything done this weekend.

Have a great weekend and thanks for joining me for another week of posts!

Hello, Adorable

2010-01-14T20:58:00.000-08:00

A missed day of blogging means a new treasure for my closet!

This year, I am trying several different tacts to stave off the yearly blues that the dead of winter can commonly bring. My first strategy was to hit the mall with some Christmas money and my sister. New clothes certainly do help.

Another strategy is to create. The spring and summer are a veritable storm of natural creation. There is green and sunlight, gardens and abundance. So, I decided to make winter the season of my own creation. Creating is even better in color.

Hence, this little treasure...

Pattern: Phoebe Bag

Fabric: Hobby Lobby

Good Day

2010-01-12T20:37:00.001-08:00

Why today was good...

Wearing a skirt in the middle of January
Finding my favorite hoodies on sale at Target for $3.75. Serious score.
Carrot cake
For the first time, not having to drive to a production committee meeting
My new boots
Organized fabric
Seeing my friends
Stalking Lisa with emails
Laughing with Chris
...did I mention carrot cake?

Hope your day was good as well!

Handling Winter Just Got A Little Easier

2010-01-11T21:51:00.000-08:00

(And yes, both the boots and the cute puppy face)

Friday Link Round Up

2010-01-08T09:05:00.000-08:00

I don't know if anyone else's week has been exceptionally long, but mine has. Whew. So yippee for Friday. Especially because tomorrow is the Lafayette Oatmeal Festival - where I plan on consuming my weight in oatmeal - and also a much-anticipated Sister's Day.

So to celebrate the close of another week, here are some links that I found inspiring or moving in some way. Enjoy!

America: Too Stupid to Cook - a mini-manifesto on America and cooking by Michael Ruhlman. Preach it, brother!
Cutest stamps ever. So love the argyle patterns you can make with these.
A powerful and moving essay by Roger Ebert (yes! the movie critic) on life without what most of us hold sacred.
And last, just what a craftygirl needs before the weekend starts...100 Best Craft Tutorials of 2009. I already have fabric for the bags!

Have a great weekend!

Mashed Potatoes for Another Night

2010-01-07T05:00:00.000-08:00

No lists today! How will I write?

If you haven't noticed, I've been posting a lot lately. I may or may not be trying to post every week day in January. Maybe. Okay, yes. I am. But no pressure. So let's all just be cool.

So I've been on this writing tear - every night a great topic (at least to me) and then it strikes! On the fourth night in? Writer's block! Yay! Well, that's why I'm doing this - the best practice for writing is writing so I'm just writing and hopefully it won't suck.

Blog writing for me is the thrill of writing on the fly. I just sit down with my topic (hopefully!) and write. I do revise and sometimes will even go back and rework a post months later, but it's relatively unpolished.

I do a lot of writing for work - mostly standard corporate writing - letters, reports, and marketing and promotional materials. It's one of the best parts of my job. It's writing that is the exact opposite of my blog - revised, carefully wordsmithed and refined. The kind where I can take ten minutes to find the perfect adjective.

But like this post? This one is just to get the words on the page. A meta-post on writing so that I can practice. So bear with me...this started as a post on mashed potatoes and look where my words took me.

See? That's the thrill of writing.

First World Gratitude

2010-01-06T12:00:00.000-08:00

Back on Thanksgiving, I published a list of 50 things for which I am grateful. I struggled with 50 and decided to stop at 25, but the more I listed the more I was able find. But while it is great to be thankful for caramel macchiatos, I decided to take my gratitude back to the basics.

I am grateful that...

I can walk my dog in open spaces without being afraid or even thinking about land mines.
I can speak my mind without fear of being thrown into prison.
I have access to clean, fresh water anytime I want by turning a faucet.
I can choose and switch my own religion without fear of my family wanting to kill me.
I survived to be an adult protected against life-threatening diseases like polio.
I can go outside of my house with my head and legs uncovered without my husband, father or brother as a chaperone.
I never needed to fear the "rite" of genital mutilation.

America isn't perfect by any means and I am grateful to live here for more than the above reasons, but let's face it, the world is full of suck. The following are links to the some of the above issues if you are compelled to learn more to help reduce it.

- International Campaign to Ban Landmines

- Amnesty International

- Charity Water

- Human Rights Watch

- World Health Organization

Best Books of 2009 (part two)

2010-01-05T20:14:00.000-08:00

Part Two! Let's get right to it, shall we?

Best Classic

- Beowulf: Okay, I sort of cheated and read David Wright's prose translation instead of the poem, but nonetheless, I was hooked from the first "chapter." Plus there are some great footnotes with plenty of historical information and context. Such heroism! Such drama!

Most Disappointing Book

- Life of Pi by Yann Martel: This book was beautifully written so no quibbles there, but I think maybe I missed all the allegory and symbolism that is supposed to be there. Anyone who has read it out there? Maybe you can clue me in.

Best Series

- Harry Potter by JK Rowling: Holy cow. I'm afraid few years will be able to beat 2009 in the book department. It was the year I caved and read the entire series - nonstop. I went from "meh, the movies are pretty cool" to "OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY DIDN'T INCLUDE [insert trivial point here] IN THE MOVIE!" Yes, I turned into a giant Harry Potter nerd. The kind that can quote, discuss and now scours the internet for spoilers on anything. Anything! I loved the depth of the characters and the cleverness of the writing. Total fan girl.

Best Book of the Year - A Tie!

- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling: A complex satisfying ending to a great series (see above).

- Return of the King by JR Tolkien: Oh, the joy of following The Deathly Hallows with Return of the King. I found myself re-reading over and out loud sections to my poor husband. Lovely character drama and heart-pounding battles made this another satisfying end to a marvelous series. And the scene with Eowyn (you know the one) - killer.

Best Books of 2009 (part one)

2010-01-04T01:00:00.000-08:00

In 2008, my new year's resolution was to read a book per month. I know that doesn't sound like much, but at the time, I was reading about two books per year. To my surprise and delight, I actually kept that resolution. In 2009, I upped the ante to 24 books - and, on New Year's Eve, I finished book #25.

To keep it interesting,I follow a loose pattern of reading a fiction book, a non-fiction book and a "classic" - because I have multiple books going at once there is much overlap in the order as well as overlap in the genres (classic is usually fiction too), but it works to keep me from getting into a rut.

So without further ado, the (first part) of the Best Books of 2009.

The Best Non-Fiction Book

- Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan: A politically charged manifesto on how our food gets to our table. I seriously changed my eating/food purchasing habits after reading this book to include taking part in a CSA as well as stopping my consumption of commercially processed beef.

Honorable Mentions: A Year of Living Biblically by AJ Jacobs and Elements of Cooking by the passionate Michael Ruhlmann (if you love from-scratch cooking, then Ruhlman's blog is a must)

Best Blog-to-Book

- The Daily Coyote: A Story of Love, Survival and Trust in the Wilds of Wyoming by Shreve Stockton: A rare book from a blogger that isn't just a compilation of blog entries. Instead, the book is a full narrative of the story of a woman and her coyote - all against a blazingly beautiful Wyoming backdrop.

Honorable Mention: Rockabye: From Wild to Child by Rebecca Woolf. I think this may have been one of those blog-entry-compilations, but since I was a recent convert to her blog, it was all new to me.

Best Non-Fiction Subject Matter with the Worst Writing

- The End of a America: Letter of Warning to a Young Patriot by Naomi Wolf: The subject matter detailing steps from democracy to fascism is provocative, relevant and scary. Everyone should know what this book says. It's a shame that the writing presented only statements backed up by sources in a series of footnotes. I struggled to finish even though I was anxious to know the ending.

Funniest Book

- Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris: Simply the funniest book I'd read in a long time teaching me the valuable lesson that exercise and belly laughing don't necessarily work at the same time. The first part about Sedaris's youth and drug use is pretty raw, but second part describing Sedaris's adventures to learn French in France with his longtime partner is hilarious.

Next up...Most Disappointing, Best Classic, Best Series and Best Book of the Year!

2009 in Images

2010-01-01T10:15:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

For us, 2009 was a year of many changes - most good (but expensive) and some not so good. But we persevered and here we are!

The highs of 2009 were plentiful.

Buying our first home together. We love our new home with our small living room and ginormous kitchen. We love the challenge of making this place our own.
Stable and steady jobs for both us this year.
Welcoming Jeely, our rescue mutt, into our home. She could possibly be the Happiest Dog Alive(tm) as that tail rarely doesn't wag.
A rainy lush summer that triggered a love for all things green in our beautiful yard.
Singing together for the first time in the same choir and having it bring us closer together.

The lows? Nah. We're making a fresh start here with a new year. Never mind the lows.

Below are some of the images from 2009 gathered into a slide show. What's missing from this slide show are any images from my choirs which represent a huge part of my life. It is tough to sing and photograph yourself at the same time. So choirs, next year expect to see that camera!

Happy 2010 and thank you all for being a part of our lives.

2009 in Images from Txgrrl on Vimeo.

(Soundtrack is "The Aspidistra Files" by Stars. Video works better with HD off)
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50 Things I'm Thankful For

2009-11-25T21:39:00.000-08:00

I have a zillion things to be thankful for and here are fifty of them.

The Internet. The single greatest invention of our time, I say.
My pit-bull mix, Jeely. For teaching me that saying "never" most of the time doesn't work.
My circle of friends. You people rock.
Being alive. When asked what the most surprising thing about my heart transplant experience was, I always respond "that I made it out alive." No joke. It was tough. I am incredibly grateful, even now, to be alive.
iTunes. How did I organize my music before? And talk about instant gratification.
Really good design
Noise cancelling headphones
My new-to-me car and the friends that sold it to me.
The fact that I can dispose of my old dead car easily and free just by donating it.
Adobe products - most especially Illustrator, InDesign and Photoshop
A fantabulous husband who is also my best friend
My crackberry (I'd be lying if it wasn't there!)
Having a challenging and fulfilling job
Legend of Zelda series and Rock Band for keeping me off the streets
My mom and dad for being my inspirations
Caramel macchiato lattes
An affordable warm house
My former low sodium diet for getting me off my butt and into the kitchen
Facebook
Digital cameras
Almost everything that comes off a pig
Sleeping
Food that is so good you want to cry
That I can leave my job at work so I have plenty of time for playing
Treadmills (and that I can use them at ridiculously high inclines)
Movies that make me laugh and that have no blood splatters
People demonstrating kindness
Google. Oh Google and your assorted and sundry products, I love thee.
Wireless internet and the fact that I can get wireless internet/VoIP on my crackberry
My incredible sister
Color
Living on the plains but only 20 minutes from spectacular mountains
The possibility that a public option might actually happen (no more pre-existing conditions! no more lifetime cap!)
A husband who is a computer genius
Sweatpants
Blogs
My cats even though they never leave the laundry room any more
A husband who makes wonderful lattes so we can occasionally save a couple of bucks
Ready to assemble furniture until such time we decide that's where we want to spend our money
Danskos
Digital cameras for giving me something to scrapbook
Art museums
The Lord of the Rings books and movies
Tivo. How did we live without this?
Hulu. For when I forget to set my Tivo.
Dishwashers
My choirs for giving me a voice and not just for singing
My night-owl genes because I love being the keeper of this legacy
My new(ish) heart and the individual who said yes to being a donor
God

Happy Thanksgiving!

Ummm, yeah

2009-10-08T21:59:00.001-07:00

So I will admit to being a bit absent here on this blog. I say at least once a week..."I need to update my blog!" and then going about working on my crafts, cooking, singing, working...and it's two weeks later and then two months later!I am back, yet again. With no major goals to update regularly, which is probably good because I don't think I have many readers (hi mom!) but I think I do need to get my write on. Just a bit maybe.

The haps around here? Oh, so much. Besides the crazy that is my job which I don't discuss here anyway, I've been wildly practicing with my two groups getting ready for our two early fall shows! Early fall shows means summer practices but Christmas off - so it all balances out in the end. I would encourage everyone (hi, again Mom!) to come check out our performances. We have new directors for both groups and a new freshness and energy.

Modern Broadway by the Northland Chorale on 10/23, 10/24 and 10/25. Click here for more info and to buy tickets.
To Touch a Hundred Flowers by Sine Nomine on 11/21 and 11/22. Click here for more info and to buy tickets.

We've also got a new member of the family. Introducing the very sweet and eminently lovely Jeely.

And my beloved mean green Taurus (aka Taurai) finally bit the dust at 199,685 miles. I have a wonderful new car but every time I see the Taurus sitting out in the front, I still think I would've liked to have gotten those last 315 miles! We are going to give it away and if anyone has a suggestion of a good charity, I would appreciate any ideas!

And lastly, I've been a crafting fool. My new house means a new scrapbooking/craft area - just for me! And nothing helps fuel a passion like a space to do it in. Even a tiny space. I've also discovered online classes. For a mere $20 (or so) per class, I can be challenged and learn new ideas. Happily, one of my all time favorite scrappy inspirations is hosting an online class on making a very cool minibook. A link to the class shop can be found here. Here is are a few examples of the patterned paper lusciousness that came with the class kit.

Seriously nom.

Colorado Rocks!

2009-08-02T19:30:00.000-07:00

Can you believe that THIS is only about 80 minutes away from my house? Actually, I can find this 20 minutes from my house, but who wants to camp that close to home?

For many years, I didn't go up into the mountains very often. Anything above Denver's 5,280 ft was difficult. Camping had to be done at lakes (although very enjoyable) and hiking was completely out of the question.

Now is a different story. Now...

We hike. (Nine miles on the Colorado Trail at Little Scraggy)

We eat.

We watch CavemanTV.

We live in tents.

No showers. No laptops. It could not be more fun.

Back to Earth

2009-06-12T22:11:00.000-07:00

Oh yeah, I have a blog!

Holy crap, I've been busy. Even for me...between two choirs and work, a week hasn't gone by since February where I haven't been out of the house. And now tonight, on a lovely rainy June Friday, I've had a chance to sit, veg out on the Internet and do nothing.

Okay, I will admit that I did do a deep cleaning of the Camelbacks (in preparation for hiking to start sometime SOON - weather, did you hear that?), made a homemade dinner, baked up a batch of granola and did some writing. BUT STILL. It was done all at home with Chris happily programming downstairs and the dog always within about 5 feet of me.

And I did veg out on the Internet. A highly enjoyable pastime if not a total waste of time. But that is why we love it, do we not?

And for lack of anything else more interesting to post about - as befitting this evening of relaxing - here is my "recipe" (technique, really) for my killer homemade granola. The best part of this recipe is that if you don't have one of these ingredients, just sub it out for something else. No butter? Use oil. No Grape Nuts? Use Cheerios. The only thing that stays the same for me is the oats.

Mighty Nom Granola

(Exact amounts are to taste)

- 3 cups regular rolled oats

- Grape Nuts (or the generic version that neither of us like and we're trying to use up)

- Roughly chopped mixed unsalted nuts (cashews, almonds, pecans, hazelnuts)

- Raw pepitas (pumpkin seeds)

- 2 tablespoons butter

- 1/3 cup applesauce

- 1/4 cup honey or maple syrup or combo

- 2 teaspoons cinnamon

- 1/4 teaspoon cardamom

- Pinch of salt

- 2 tablespoons brown sugar

- Cooking spray

- Dried fruit

- Toasted coconut

First, mix all the dry, raw ingredients together (oats through pepitas) in a big bowl. In a saucepan, melt the butter then add the applesauce, honey, cinnamon, cardamom, salt, and brown sugar. Cook for just a minute. Pour over the oat mixture.

Spray a sheet pan with cooking spray and spread the mixture on the pan in an even layer. Bake in a 325 degree oven for 3 ten minute intervals, stirring at each break. When golden brown, take out of the oven and cool in the pan on a rack. Don't worry if everything seems soft. It will crisp as it cools.

Once cool, stir in the fruit and the coconut and try to stop eating it long enough to put in an airtight container. Use as a topping for yogurt or ice cream. Or just eat it as a snack.

This Song, Again?

2009-03-29T21:59:00.001-07:00

The prompt: Three songs that are overplayed but you love anyway.

This one was easy - I listen to the radio almost exclusively in my car (before I make my practice CDs for choir, that is) and my station is the king of the Repetitive Playlist. So, here are my picks.

Feels Like Tonight by Daughtry

Every time I drive somewhere in my car, I hear a Daughtry song. I've tested this. I could be driving from home to the grocery store and hear "Home" and then on the return trip, I will hear "Over You." To my own repetitive shame, I never change the channel on "Feels Like Tonight." There is something about the way the middle of the chorus goes up that feels sooo good in the vocal cords and for one minute, I'm a total rock star.

Pocket Full of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield

I don't even know what half the words are because every time I hear this song, all I can do is imagine how I could create a slammin' womens choral arrangement for it. I'm telling you, it would so rock.

Jack and Diane by John Mellencamp

All John Mellencamp reminds me of my Uncle Kevin, my fabulous late-uncle whose stories of bustin' a move at John Mellencamp concerts still stand out in my mind. I think of Uncle Kevin every time I hear a Mellencamp song, but this one, with the clapping rhythm and great lyrics gets me every time.

Curious George Goes to the Hospital

2009-03-28T22:00:00.001-07:00

A hospital is a big scary place for a 3-year old girl. I remember very little from those days of hair loss, travel, and chemo, but I do remember the bright yellow hat. And the little grinning monkey eating the puzzle piece.

There was comfort to be found in those pages. Even though I don't remember getting half as much ice cream as Curious George got.

This Week in Blogs

2009-03-24T16:58:00.000-07:00

It's been a tough week in my particular blogosphere. Two of my favorite bloggers have lost aunts - one of them being my own great aunt. Still two others have sick babies. Not just colds and flus, but real serious illnesses. Like stay-in-the-hospital for months illnesses. Still more are moving and others are simply not blogging because real life takes over and blots out the writing.

I am one of those blog readers who isn't ashamed that I get emotionally attached to the blogs I follow. My favorite blogger, the incomparable Heather Armstrong just realized every bloggers dream. She's written a book based on her life - a life carved out of this new medium and now on paper.

Ms. Armstrong's blog is pretty typical of the blogs I follow. Most, but not all, are about moms raising any number of kids. Single atheist moms raising only children, married non-believing couples raising only children with more on the way, blended families with kids from adults to infants, Christian families raising many small children - you get the picture.

I can identify with at least something with each of the blogs I read. As most know, I don't have kids - and although each of those above blogs is about motherhood, all are about making a connection with the reader regardless of child status, marital status, gender preference or even belief. And most importantly, all the blogs I read - whether I am looking for an art fix or fun food reviews/recipes - have one thing in common:

All these bloggers are incredible writers.

Because of this, I find as much satisfaction reading Michael Ruhlman's highly opinionated food blog as I do Tara Whitney's Just Be Blogged or Carol Blymire's opus - The French Laundry at Home.

And see, in my fast paced, busy world where reading one book can take months, I find my writing inspiration here in the tiny whizzing packets on the Internet. All those beautiful writers you knew in high school? The ones that should be making millions as authors but instead are raising families, taking pictures, working at their jobs? They are now (or should be) blogging.

Bloggers don't write for themselves. Well, we do, but we are the journalers who could never get into journaling because ultimately, we want people to read what we write. If you find out your friend blogs, I urge you to find a reader you like and subscribe. Read what your friends write - we want to share our lives with you.

...And We're Back!

2009-03-17T15:48:00.000-07:00

A busy month of packing, moving, traveling, unpacking and then a cold has put me out of commission for a while. But now I'm back.

For those curious about our trip to DC...here is a press release detailing why we went. It even includes me!

The Voice of God

2009-02-12T23:11:00.000-08:00

The first few hours coming out of a major surgery rank up there as the some of the worst hours of life. I don't think this is common to just open-heart surgery patients. It seems the longer and more intense the surgery, the harder the journey is back to your brain.

You who have had this experience are already nodding. It's like those old anti-drug commercials depicting a smashed up egg as your brain on drugs. When I first started coming back - after a 9-hour surgery, thirteen hours and 34 units of blood later, I was barely alive. I would open heavy eyes enough to see myself bend my arm and wiggle my fingers. It was fascinating to me to watch my pale arm weave through the air for a brief second. Duuuuuuude.

I couldn't speak. I was on a ventilator. The pain sat right outside of my mind's reach. My body burned from behind the drug mask and pain seeped out through my closed eyes in silent fat tears. The cocktail dripping into my veins hid the pain then, but not from my memories now.

Throughout those early hours were the constants in my journey. My sister rubbing my feet. My husband kissing my forehead. My dad sitting quietly in the dark. And, of course, my mother's voice. I recall nothing of what was said, only those brief images and sounds coming from the room and the recesses of my numbed mind.

As the edges of the world began to form, I turned my head to the side. Where I later learned there was a counter, sink and a wall, at that time I saw a curtain over a sliding glass door. The door was partially open and the curtain pulled back. The British nurse was barking, her accent coarse, something about me. The cult. She was reaching over the other nurses at the workstation - she was telling them that I hadn't been initiated yet.

I panicked, my eyes widening. I was trapped in this bed. In this cursed body, by the central line out my neck, by the hot blankets. My waving hand lost its magic. There was a yellowish light from above me - was that the lamp by my bed at my parents home that I used only as an adult? My cheeks were wet. I could still hear that harsh British voice urging the nurses to hurry.

At that moment, my mother came into the room. I called out to her. "Help me!" I was crying harder now. "They're going to hurt me! Put me into a cult!"

My mom brushed my cheek with her hand. She told me that everything was going to be okay. That she would pray with me. I looked at her and she held my hot hands in her cool ones. "God is in this room, Sarah," she said. I could see her face and her hair silloutted against the yellow light. "Just remember that God is in this room."

I closed my eyes. Reassured by her voice and her prayer.

A long time later, when I was out of the hospital, when I heard about a family friend having a hard time post-surgery, I asked my mom if she remembered when she came in and helped me through my hallucinations. She said no. She never did anything like that. I pressed her. Was she sure?

That's when I knew. God had been in the room with me. God had been there all the time. A shrewd move - when a voice and visage were too powerful to come to a girl fresh from the shock of survival, instead came as one of his humble servants. In the voice and visage of the one I trusted more than any other, He came to remind me that I wasn't alone.

I'm so fortunate to have the mother that I do. She's been there through marriages, moves, surgeries, graduations and Super Bowls. Nearly every momentous occasion in my life, has a corresponding memory of my mother. I look up to her as I look up to few people. Maybe anyone, actually.

On this, her birthday (three days late notwithstanding), I wish her an amazing year full of growth, love and life anew.

I love you, Mom!

My Beautiful Heart

2009-02-07T20:14:00.000-08:00

Wow. Two years, two months and two days - an amazing gift.

I had my annual tests on Monday. Everything went well except for the insane amount of sedative. It was probably totally normal for folks accustomed to the juice, but for me, dude, I was toast for a couple of days. Anyway, on to the good stuff!

- Grade zero biopsy – no rejection

- Heart is pumping like a champ – 4.6 liters. Compare that to the 1.5 liters from my pre-transplant days.

- My VO2 max has improved from last year and vastly from years before. I am at 96% of my age potential. Most transplants, due to the physical differences in our cardiovascular anatomy, hover around 75% of age potential.

- My heart is clear of any blockages. I think I could auction my total cholesterol number if I wanted, but to be honest, that's all thanks to Zocor.

After my clinic visit in March, I'm not due back for a year. A YEAR. More on this in a later blog post. In the meantime, here is my Thumper. You can see the outline of the heart and the beautiful clear left coronary arteries. The weird circular things are actually the wires around my sternum.

My Double Life

2009-01-29T21:59:00.000-08:00

Apparently many of us are living double lives. Profoundly exciting and so secret that only a Google search can discover what we've been up to.

I've seen this Internet meme floating around on a couple of the vlogs I follow on YouTube. An internet meme, I had to look it up, is defined on Wikipedia as "a neologism [a recently coined word] used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet, much like an inside joke."

So, the Google Verb Meme - take your name and a verb and Google it to find out what you are up to. Try it for yourself! Here is mine.

Sarah Needs
Sarah needs a cold shower, self-esteem. [Wow. Who knew?]

Sarah Looks Like
Sarah looks like Nicole Ritchie. [Well I guess I am pretty thin.]

Sarah Says
Sarah says "Let's just say that I knew this meeting wasn't to promote me to office person of the century." [More than you know...more than you know.]

Sarah Wants
Sarah wants us to know that she’ll help expand that hole. [I am not happy that I share a name with Sarah Palin.]

Sarah Does
Sarah does not eat humans. [You can all rest easy. I prefer pork.]

Sarah Hates
Sarah hates you. [Oh dear. Not really.]

Sarah Asks
Sarah asks "what's this New Year's thing?" [Um...]

Sarah Likes
Sarah likes to smell Colleen's armpits. [I guess.]

Sarah Eats
Sarah eats cake. [I can guarantee you that it isn't human cake.]

Sarah Wears
Sarah wears a bra and shoes sometimes. [But only sometimes...]

Sarah Was Arrested For
Sarah was arrested for cutting buckets of water that would put out the fire. [Hence why I'm not allowed to fireteam. So sad this habit of mine.]

Sarah Loves
Sarah loves pop culture. [Really? I guess I sort of do.]

So now that you have all this misinformation about me, tell me about your double life...

The Little Things

2009-01-27T18:20:00.000-08:00

Today my boss asked me to run over to Great Harvest and pick up some sandwiches. It's not a bad part of my job - getting sandwiches for them always means one for me. Great Harvest always gives you a slice of their soft, salty bread when you purchase anything. As I stood there debating on what slice I would chose (their hearty sunflower slathered with soft butter), I became suddenly grateful for the bustling shop, the hungry guys waiting for me at work, the smell of the warm bakery and the taste of that bread. I am alive. My heart is beating. Two years and nearly two months of warm, soft yummy goodness. You can't beat that.

Some Odds and Ends

2009-01-12T22:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome to all the new readers of my blog! I've noticed an increase in traffic over the last few days and I am honored to be a part of your day in even a small way!

In lieu of a real blog entry today (more to come as the week progresses) here are a few odds and ends:

- For all those who prayed for Liz, thank you. Everything is back to normal (which for her, is consistently good) and she is scheduled for release tomorrow.

- We are smitten. We are in love. I can't say any more even though I am nearly bursting at the seams. Hopefully more good news to report as the weeks progress.

- Try beef stroganoff made with buffalo sirloin sometime. You will not be disappointed and it's better for you anyway.

- It's always the best when you hear stories about someone you've known all your life that you've never heard before. In this case, it is my dad. Check out his blog if you get a moment.

- And lastly, as a present to all of you who have ever hung out on YouTube and shudder at the horrible comments. These girls have it going on.

Thank you again to all the new readers! Hope to see you again soon!

View from Celestial Seasonings 12:15 am

2009-01-07T23:20:00.000-08:00

From Fire

Click on the pictures to view larger images.

Testing the Changeover

2009-01-06T11:32:00.000-08:00

I am changing over all my Google accounts and this is a test post to make sure it all worked alright!

A Resolution Kept

2009-01-03T20:46:00.000-08:00

The only resolution that I can remember making in 2008 was to read at least one book per month. And you know what? I did it! Yay me!

I love to read, but had stopped reading during the time before I really got sick. Back in the day when books were read less for pleasure but more as a survival technique to get through the Bataan Death March also known as night. I cranked through tons of books trying to sleep but tossed them aside, erroneously attributing my insomnia to the stimulation from the books.

So this year I picked up books again in earnest, making time for a spot of reading before bed nearly every night. Here is a sampling of some of the good, bad and the awesome books from 2008.

Oh, and I slept just fine this year.

The Most Awesome

- The Two Towers, JRR Tolkien: Oh, the choices. So many wonderful books! But the old classic topped the list. A spectacular read starting with the intense search for the missing hobbits and climaxing at the impressive battle of Helm's Deep. And just when you thought you could breathe again, the story picks up with Frodo and Sam's journey with Gollum with the ring to Mordor. I literally couldn't put it down, making the Two Towers the first book I could actually concentrate on while waiting for a biopsy and clinic visits.

The Almost Winner

- Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather: A gentle book of one priest's life as an unlikely appointee as the Archbishop of Sante Fe in the mid-1800s. A gripping story of faith and redemption written with grace and respect to the decisions of priests in a troubled and tempting land.

Honorable Mentions: Wicked by Gregory MacGuire, Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien, and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick (more muscle and heart than Bladerunner which was inspired by the book.)

The Best Memoir

- If You Could Hear What I See, Kathy Buckley: One day when I was on the VADs, I had the pleasure of being visited by Kathy Buckley, billed as America's first hearing impaired comedienne. I was shy and tired and hardly remember any of the visit other than we laughed a lot. She left her book and once I picked it up after the shameful delay of 18 months, I couldn't put it down. What an amazing survivor - and the hearing loss is the easy part. On top of that, she is an incredible human being. Shortly after reading the book, I was scheduled to give my heart transplant talk to some 7th grade students. Knowing she had experience with kids and speaking, out of the blue I emailed her for some advice. Within 1o minutes, we were chatting like old friends on the phone. Great lady. Great book.

Honorable Mentions: Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (loved it!) and No Shortcuts to the Top by Ed Viesturs (Viesturs climbed the world's 14 highest peaks without oxygen - however, Viesturs's conservative climbing style works for survival but makes for a boring retelling even of this astounding achievement. By far, the most gripping part of the novel is the retelling of the 1996 Everest disaster.)

Best "Self Help" Book

- The Dance of Anger, Harriet Goldhor Lerner. A transformative look at the role of anger in the life of women and what we can do to learn from it and make changes. My most recommended book this year.

Honorable Mention: The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman (Quality Time, in case you were wondering)

Worst Book

- Bridge to Forever, Richard Bachman. I so loved Jonathan Livingtston Seagull. But this was pure dreck. I couldn't even finish the novel about the author searching for his True Love and confounded by not finding her. Um, dude, maybe it is because you are a self-obsessed, ultra-picky (but slutty) jerk? Gack.

Other Notables

- Mere Christianity by CS Lewis: If you ever question why Christians believe what we do and you don't want to pick up the bible, try this instead.

- Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster: A delightful fantasy for the nerd in all of us.

There you have it, the best and worst of 2008. Anything you would like to add from your own reading list last year?

Happy New Year

2008-12-31T21:55:00.000-08:00

I'm putting together a scrapbook on Bug and found this wonderful picture. It seemed totally appropriate for wishing everyone a happy, healthy, safe 2009 filled with joy, friends and family.

As you can see, I'm revamping my blog. Yes, I will still have long rants and stories but also some lighter fare. I'm enjoying being inspired and hope that it comes through here.

In the meantime, a very Happy New Year from the crew at Best Day: Sarah, Chris, Pally, Mokey, Nutmeg, Coreg and, of course, Bug!

Happy New Year!

Fuzzy!

2008-12-09T22:36:00.000-08:00

So the dishes are piling up in the sink, my voice is tired, I'm waking up with music running through my brain and I haven't eaten out of a can this much since, well, probably ever. This state of disarray can only mean one thing - I am deep in the heart of tech (aka hell) week, a solid four days of four hour rehearsals.

The best part of coming into tech week is realizing how badly you suck on Saturday and then how you totally rock by Wednesday. And then you get a day off to either forget it all or let everything gel. Then you are done. The only thing left is jumping off the cliff for performances.

I love it. It's what I do.

Please come and see the show!

A Warm Fuzzy Holiday
Presented by the Northland Chorale
Fri. Dec 12 at 7:30 pm
Sat. Dec 13 at 7:30 pm
Sun. Dec 14 at 2:30 pm

DL Parsons Theater at the Northglenn Rec Center
11801 Community Center Dr. in Northglenn
$12 for adults and $10 for seniors/kids

Two Years

2008-12-04T18:19:00.000-08:00

On the morning of December 4, 2006, Jan from Immaculate Heart of Mary church had come to visit me in the hospital. I struggled to focus on her words, stories about the latest happenings at church. Am I tired or am I sad?, I found myself drifting. Oh, and I hope I'm not too disgusting looking. But Jan only smiled and stood next to me and prayed for me, prayed that God would grant us the heart we needed.

By now, I had been on the biVAD for almost 4 weeks. I was receiving regular blood transfusions (the perfect drug!) to help relieve the water retention and to keep my anemia at bay. Eating was pure misery - most of my nutrients came from the delicious feeding tube "sludge" diet. Yum! I needed almost constant oxygen. Most humbling was my inability to care for my basic needs. I was a mess.

Not just a mess physically but emotionally too. Over the course of the days before, I'd been getting more and more depressed. I was wearing down. The darkness was right there, hanging out on the edges. I felt broken, separated from everything I'd once known and held tightly. My grip had been loosened and I was slack.

The day before, Lisa left, headed to Palm Springs for 9 long days for a seminar called, coincidentally called "Date with Destiny." I didn't really want her to leave. She'd been planning the trip for months. Back in my previous life, so long before when I'd first gone into the hospital, back when we were sure I would've gotten the transplant by now, she'd described it to me with shining eyes. I knew she had to go. I told her that perhaps this week would be both our dates with destiny.

After Jan left on that Monday morning, I fell asleep. As much as the the constant thump-thump-thump of the biVADs was tiring, it was also oddly comforting. I had a dream that I was in my bed with little puppies and kittens snuggling with my VADs. All of us comforted by the heartbeat. When I woke up, alone in my room, I knew the time had come to decide what to do with the sadness; somewhere along the line, I had lost my sense of Sarah. Half the time, I felt more like a machine than a girl and the other half the time, I just wanted to cry.

It was time to get it together so I got into my chair and started a crossword. Simple, nothing exciting but just deliberately choosing to do something felt good. It felt great, and by the time my friend Marianne showed up to visit, I was beginning to feel a little of my old self creeping back and the darkness receded a little.

Around 8:00 pm, the door opened and four nurses came in. They stood there silently - each shifting a bit and blinking a lot - and grinning from ear to ear. I was a little confused. I assumed it was shift-change and they would start swarming around my IV speaking their nurse-talk. Instead, they just stood there. One of them started crying and through a huge smile, another said "we may have found one!"

I went as still inside as the biVAD would let me. Oh. My. God. Then I said something seriously creative like, "Are you kidding?" . They nodded and someone cautioned me about getting too excited. Not get too excited? Ha! I felt tears coming and said, "someone get over here and hug me!" I was immediately surrounded.

I called Mom and Dad, not really sure to hope or not. Pretty soon, my feeding tube was shut off. Goodbye dear sludge; ye shall not be missed. Throwing caution to the wind, I called Lisa and my bosses who were in the Hong Kong airport on their hour layover before heading to Tokyo. They put me on speakerphone and I tried not to cry. In the middle of all this, the nurses took about a gallon of blood and started me on the immunosuppressents. Mom and Dad arrived. Had time really stopped or was it just me?

I moved to the bed. Surgery was scheduled to start at 12:30 am on December 5th. Time was moving very fast. I wanted to remember this night forever so I asked Dad to get his video camera (which was handily in the car). I was visited by the OR nursing staff, most of whom I already knew from my VAD surgery. I signed the form. I consented to have my heart replaced. Then it was time.

Everyone, nurses and doctors alike, stopped and stood by the bed. Mom said a prayer for the hands of the doctor, in gratitude for their amazing service and for healing. The world felt soft around the edges. As per our arrangement, once the bed started moving, Mom read Psalm 121 - "I lift my eyes up to the hills - where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord." Mom kept stride by the bed as we moved down the hall. All the way to elevator, the sounds of the VAD, the respectful silence of the nurses and voice of my mother are what I remember. The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want.

My entry into the OR was at the same time as Dr. Awesome, my surgeon. I asked him if his hands were feeling steady. Ha. I am so lame. The atmosphere was relaxed in the OR - shouldn't you people be a little more urgent? I remember thinking. I asked if I could walk to the OR table if I wanted. They said that would be fine. I was too wigged out to actually do it, but I liked knowing that I could if I wanted.

The oxygen mask came down over my face - just like in the movies - and I felt myself growing drowsy. My final thoughts before succumbing to the anesthesia were...Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

And then I was out.

----------

And now it is two years later. Two years of mountains (both figurative and literal), monitoring, and pushing forward with a determination and drive I didn't know existed in me. Was it worth it? Hell yes, every beat of that VAD, every blood draw, every ounce of pain was so freakin' worth it. This LIFE - while it is busy as hell - is the life that I CHOSE by saying YES to every lifesaving measure possible, YES to giving up all control and YES to replacing my failing heart with that of a total stranger.

Every day I wake up with a prayer of gratitude on my lips. I am grateful to the people who invented every fancy machine and drug that has kept me alive. I am grateful for the surgeons, the doctors, the nurses, and the CNAs for their single-minded vision of saving my life. I am grateful for my friends, my family, my coworkers and my love for giving me a reason to live. I am grateful to God for being a part of this plan. And for the heart of the the amazing donor who has now fused with my soul to become this new creation.

To Uncle

2008-11-11T14:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Uncle,

I am calling you this because honestly, until today, I never knew your name was Steve. This is always what Liz has called you - just Uncle. I only met you a couple of times so I never got to taste the fabulous ribs that your niece talked about this morning or hear your jazz collection. However, even though I didn't really know you, I certainly know the kind of man you were. And how your simple actions made such an impact in my life - a life that remained mostly unknown to you.

You did an amazing thing in the fall of 2006 by saying yes to a sick young woman - the daughter of your late brother. Liz's heart was failing and her life was falling apart. She needed a new heart and a home. You offered your home and a chance for that new heart.

When I met Liz on that mid-October night, about 10:00 pm, it was by chance. I was headed to the ice machine and happened to see that the patient in the room across the hall also had my cardiologist and my same ridiculous liquid restriction. There were plenty of liquid restrictions on the floor but currently there weren't any heart patients and certainly no young'uns.

Sitting on the bed was a woman, maybe my age? maybe a bit younger?, with long blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was bent over her meal tray coloring with crayons in a kids coloring book. There was a little dish of hard candy next to her crayons. Her room was empty, unlike my room crowded with hand-drawn banners and pictures. A Halloween movie was on the television.

I think I may have startled her when I poked my head in and asked, "hey, you get ever tired of hearing that you are too young for this?" She looked up, her blue eyes were guarded.

"Yeah," she was suspicious. Later I learned that she was thinking, who the hell is this all in my business? I don't blame her. I was, after all, very much in her business. I was a little nervous, a little scared and a little hopeful.

Until Liz, I'd spent all 18 years of my heart condition without ever meeting any other woman or person my age with cardiomyopathy. I had a cadre of old-man friends - Jim and Ray and the other cardiac rehab guys that were my comrades in low-sodium diets, lasix and beta blockers. But they all developed their conditions late in life. None of them had been told they couldn't have kids because of their heart. None of them worried about making lifetime commitments for fear that a future wouldn't be theirs.

Unbelievably (or maybe not, on second thought), there she was. In end-stage heart failure like me, bloated like me, out-of-breath like me, unsure like me, a little angry like me, and also, unfortunately, tiny like me. I couldn't believe it. Here, after being absent my whole life, I'd finally met a friend - a fellow patient - in for the same reason, the same thing. It was an instant and painful connection.

The next morning the doctors asked me if I had met the new patient yet. A young woman named Liz. I had - and despite the initial excitement of meeting someone else, there was another more pressing question in both our minds. Were we competing for a heart?

The doctors said no. But Liz and I knew better. We were both very very small - and as we quickly found out - we had the same blood type too. This relationship - on such fragile ground could go either way. I did the only thing I could do. I gave it up to God.

A wise friend of mine recently told me that God always puts what we need, not necessarily what we think we want, in front of us. God put Liz there, front and center. It was up to me to decide.

So we became friends. We liked to hang out together at night and walk with our IVs to the IMCU waiting room to sneak Doritos and Funyans from the vending machine. I learned of her hard life in California, her fresh start here and her struggle to find a family. We talked about our fears and the long roads already behind us. We talked about girl stuff. We played games in my room and we cried. A lot.

Eventually Liz left to go home. We were never again able hang out together on the floor. From then on, we were on our own but always so close. The doctors wouldn't tell us anything about each other, but the nurses kept us updated. There were times when we were rooms apart but couldn't walk to see each other and were too tired to call. Chris and my parents would shuttle info back and forth as they could.

And God's plan was His plan all along. The heart that was maybe, possibly supposed to be mine - but really never was - went to Liz on November 11th. When the news was broken to me, gently for fear I would respond in anger or jealousy, I cried with joy. I called her and in my voice, raspy from the ventilator, told her that she would blaze the trail for us both. She needed to tell me everything - she would forever be my sister-in-transplant.

Ironically enough, this northern California girl who came to Colorado for a heart, had her heart custom delivered from the Bay area. She may be the only person whose heart actually did leave San Francisco.

Uncle, you have no idea what bringing Liz out here has done for me. You've given me an awesome gift. A friend to walk with me on this hardest of paths. A sister to understand the frustrations, the struggles, the pain - someone with whom I can cry, laugh and above all, shout "I HATE BIOPSIES" and will totally understand. Someone who is ALWAYS on my side, no matter what.

For all of this, I say thank you. Thank you for opening your heart and your home to Liz. Thank you for giving me this wonderful friend whom I dearly love.

Rest in peace, Steve.

Bush's Reign is Over

2008-11-04T23:09:00.000-08:00

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemies eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
Once you know there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People could not believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world

Viva La Vida - by Guy Rupert Berryman, Jonathan Buckland, Will Champion and Chris Martin

An Open Letter to Sarah Palin

2008-10-22T21:10:00.001-07:00

Dear Gov. Palin,

Up until now, I've been following your campaign with the interest of someone waiting to hear what you will say next. I learned quickly, early in your campaign, to always keep in mind that we share the freedom of belief and speech. Thus, I've been okay with your simple demographic of hockey moms and "Joe Six-Packs" as I know those are the only folk that you know. Those freedoms were on my mind as I alternated between amused and horrified at the footage of your rallies - your apparent ease with which you incite hateful epitaphs followed by an "oh geez, did I do that with my facts?" charm.

I've even put aside the fact that we disagree on nearly every issue facing us today. Gun control, keeping prayer out of schools, protecting the environment, encouraging alternative fuel research, not drilling, baby, drilling, and gay marriage (to name a few). I'm for everything that you are against. But still, this is a free country and you can believe what you want. You can campaign on the platform against mine. I can register my disagreement with a single powerful vote.

However, this weekend, Gov. Palin, you crossed the line. No, it wasn't the hilarious rap on SNL. It was when you said this:

"We believe that the best of America is in the small towns that we get to visit and these wonderful little pockets of what I call real America - being here with all you hard-working, very patriotic, very pro-America areas of this great nation."

Oh but wait, there's more:

"This [small towns] is where we find the kindness and the goodness and the courage of everyday Americans, those who are running our factories and teaching our kids and fighting our wars for us, those are who are protecting us in uniform and those who are protecting the virtues of freedom."

Excuse me? I don't know you personally, Gov. Palin, but I think you just called me anti-American. And that is the last straw in your silly, small folksy campaign. Our differences are one thing but as soon as you go throwing down about my patriotism - simply because I am like four of five of my fellow Americans that lives in a city - that pisses me off.

I'm not going to defend my patriotism to anyone, but I am angry about the clear disdain you hold for the 80% of the country you are vowing to lead and protect. How can I even believe for a minute that you will stick up for ME - a latte-swilling, arugula-eating, tree-hugging, gay rights-supporting, peace-loving, Christian techno-nerd who resides in a (horrors!) city?

I am deeply offended by the implication that small-town living is the only progenitor of what is good, kind and courageous in this country. That those of us who live by our Starbucks and Whole Foods don't have sons, friends, brothers and sisters who are fighting for our country. That those who teach our children in the inner-cities don't qualify as courageous. That goodness doesn't extend to those nurses and doctors working in hospitals large enough to qualify as small towns. That somehow, speaking out against failed policies qualifies you as someone who doesn't like this country. The ability to speak out against what has gone wrong (and not get jailed) is the very essence of being American.

I'm proud that I am able to associate on a daily basis with an office in a small town in one of our reddest states. I love that my colleagues are patriotic, well-educated, well-spoken and some damn fine programmers. I love that we trust and work with each other despite the red state/blue state differences that the media would have us believe are dividing us. We have truly bridged this artificially forged "small town/big city" bigotry that you have shoved down our throats. Take your class warfare someplace else.

Gov. Palin, I believe that the best part of America is the people in the small towns AND big cities with whom I live, work and love everyday - the wonderful great swath that is America. This is where I find kindness and goodness and amazing courage of the Americans who are leading churches, feeding the hungry, taking care of the homeless, bringing beauty and art to this world, healing us when we are sick, pushing advances in science and technology, raising great adults, and educating themselves and others. I know deep down that is how we protect our virtues of freedom.

You scare me, Sarah Palin, and not just because of your conservative platform. But because your Wasilla is showing. You aren't ready to lead a country of 300 million when you are only speaking to 20% of us. With these statements, you've shown us that you can't think outside of what you know. This is a big nation - and a big world. Try a different tactic in the next two weeks - try acting like a leader. Try talking to those of us who don't work in factories, teach children or wear a uniform. Try talking like you want to lead the rest of us.

Heinz 57

2008-10-04T23:16:00.000-07:00

It's always been an endless source of speculation in our family - what breeds of dog make up our beloved mutts. We are pretty sure that Claude is a solid mix of German Shepard and black Lab.

See? Look at that sweet face and tell me there's no Shepard there.

My dog Bug is not quite so simple. With his copper fur and black spots on his tongue, the first guess has always been chow chow. But really? He isn't a one-person dog - he has several families which he loves. But he is somewhat independent and there is that curly tail.

We've gone through dozens of breed guesses - maybe he is a Spitz? What about some German Shepard? Perhaps some elkhound? I know! Maybe Australian Shepard. The vet guessed cattle dog.

What do you think?

So, in what was probably the most first-world purchase we've done in a long time, Chris and I sprung for a DNA test for our dog. Bug dutifully gave a sample of blood and off it went to the lab. The results came in yesterday.

It appears, like most mutts, Bug is a mix of many many different breeds. He is unique - unlike any other dog in the world. His most dominant breed is a....

A Chow Chow! With a trace of Golden Retriever. He's our little Chowtriever.

So there you go, that's our Buggy. I've always thought that Bug has the best traits of any of his breeds. He's happy, friendly, mellow and above all, a loving little companion.

Best. Dog. Ever.

Happy Birthday, Dad

2008-09-25T12:15:00.000-07:00

My dad, my sister and I have a long-standing joke between us when we are together. Someone will say, for example, "gosh, I'm hungry!" Inevitably, one of us will respond, "not near as hungry as me!" Which then leads to "I could possibly be one thousand times hungrier than you are!" and it continues, escalating and certainly ad nauseum, until we laugh to much to go on.

And yes, we are all adults. Grown up adults, as you can see.

I am so blessed to have such an amazing father. So much of who I am today was shaped by this man. I inherited this strange, mostly inappropriate sense of humor - finding jokes less funny and preferring quick one-offs and biting commentary. This sense of humor that gets us in trouble. Like the time in the hospital when the doctor told me that my liver function had improved and I responded that it was a good thing I'd stopped drinking. Needless to say, only Dad found that funny. Which was really how it was intended all along.

I also learned about eating from my father. A fearless eater back in the day, he'd eat street food in Mexico without a care. "You don't have to like it, but you have to try it" was the rule at our table. That rule lead me to my love of all ethnic foods - Thai, Vietnamese, Ethiopian...there isn't a food I won't try. And the response when I report that I had Puerto Rican stewed pig ears and belly? "Good for you!"

Now only did I learn what to eat, but I learned how to eat from Dad. One time at a church potluck, while grace was being said, I caught Dad moving out of the corner of my eye. I quickly followed and we positioned ourselves near the buffet in order to be first, trying not to laugh. By the time grace was over, we were positioned and ready. Always be first - so that you can be coming in for seconds while the line ends. Yes, we are an embarrassment to our kind.

I'm so proud to be Dad's daughter for the things that he has accomplished. At the tender age of 60, Dad decided to learn a new trade. And he uncovered a hidden talent to become a primo videographer, editor and flash designer. I call him for questions in Illustrator and he always has time to be technical or design support for me. I nurture my artistic side foregoing a more lucrative and more ambitious career in paralegal work because I want to know what I want do when I grow up NOW rather than later.

And of course, the passion I have for politics. It's no surprise that we were both political science majors. And even though neither of us do anything in the political science field, as you can see from this blog and his blog, it is a lifetime love.

So, today is the old man's birthday and I want to wish him the best. I love you a million billion times more than anything, Dad. And you can't top that.

My Fault

2008-09-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

"Can I ask you something personal?" That's how many of the conversations about my heart transplant start. Of course, is my reply. Believe me, it's hard to surprise me with a new question.

Every once in a while, though, someone will surprise me. I've actually had several conversations with people in the "personal responsibility" school. Someone who will say to me, "but don't you think maybe you are responsible for this happening?" That throughout my life, I've made a series of choices which have lead up to this critical event. Seriously? Yes, that makes perfect sense. Juvenile fibromatosis is every three-year old's dream.

I firmly believe that we need to take responsibility for what is ours. We can control certain factors that can worsen or even cause our own health conditions. I put this into practice myself. Both pre- and post-transplant, I've made sure to eat right, exercise and follow my doctor's orders and recommendations. I have always been proactive about researching every drug, every medical procedure and even track my lab results. I am a patient who, as one of my doctors says, requires more information before making a decision than any patient he has ever had. I am my own best science experiment.

But even under all this surveillance and care, I still had to have a heart transplant. Not the cheapest of procedures to have. Not the cheapest of conditions to maintain. Not the cheapest of health insurance policies to need.

That stupid argument that all our health issues are a direct result of our own choices is bull. I have had that discussion with several friends but I could've had it with John McCain. Here is what he has to say about health and mental health care:

I have stressed the central role of personal responsibility in leading to lower health care costs. Personal fitness and better lifestyles, especially reduction in addictions of all types – food, narcotics, or cigarettes – can yield dramatic improvements in the cost of chronic illness and high‐cost medical care. We can do a better job of treating addictions, but we also have an obligation to do a better job of teaching our children the benefits of good lifestyles and the perils of addictive activities.

Compare the candidates views on health care and the priority of mental health care in their campaigns. The choice is clear.

Obama/Biden 2008. Vote.

Best Political Ad I've Seen

2008-09-17T19:45:00.001-07:00

Somehow, I like being treated like a thinking adult.

Taking a Break from Transplant Talk

2008-09-15T21:17:00.000-07:00

Which is what this blog is sort of supposed to be about. Post-transplant talk, that is.

I'm taking a break to urge everyone to do their civic DUTY this November and VOTE.

Check out this clip from Craig Ferguson - voting isn't a Democrat or Republican issue. It's an American issue.

Vote

Thanks, but No Thanks

2008-09-11T14:58:00.000-07:00

Thanks but no thanks implies that you are appreciative of a gesture/item/service, yet you refuse to accept it.

I didn't realize that it now means thanks, but no thanks for federal tax monies for a bridge but hey! just leave the money someplace else here in my state.

Do the research.

NPR

Obama/Biden '08

How Does Your Party Define Religion?

2008-09-09T21:24:00.000-07:00

The true definition of religion, as defined by the bible itself, is "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world" (James 1:27, NIV)

I am not going to judge but instead, if you consider yourself a religious conservative, take that definition and compare it to the stands on the issues by the candidates. You can do that here.

My questions to the GOP...

How is allowing a broken and corrupt health care system to continue to exist taking care of people? How is protecting the corporation yet hanging the less-fortunate out to dry taking care of people? How are we stewarding the earth by continually raping it for coal and oil? How is sending our youth into a war based on lies taking care of people? How is taxing an already burdened middle class (and unless you make over $5 MILLION a year, this means YOU) taking care of people? How is enforcing the Patriot Act taking care of people?

I think Barack Obama said it best:

We may not agree on abortion, but surely we can agree on reducing the number of unwanted pregnancies in this country. The reality of gun ownership may be different for hunters in rural Ohio than for those plagued by gang-violence in Cleveland, but don't tell me we can't uphold the Second Amendment while keeping AK-47s out of the hands of criminals. I know there are differences on same-sex marriage, but surely we can agree that our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters deserve to visit the person they love in the hospital and to live lives free of discrimination. Passions fly on immigration, but I don't know anyone who benefits when a mother is separated from her infant child or an employer undercuts American wages by hiring illegal workers. This too is part of America's promise - the promise of a democracy where we can find the strength and grace to bridge divides and unite in common effort.

Yes we can. Jesus rules. Do the research. ObamaBiden '08

I Know I Shouldn't Care Now (but I sorta do)

2008-08-24T22:36:00.000-07:00

Out shopping tonight for snacks (you should never shop on a full stomach either; you never buy any snacks) and found Nissan low sodium ramen. Not a big deal with my new totally-fine-with-real-ramen heart, right? Of course.

However, I can't help but feel just a teeny-tiny prick of annoyance. Despite my high-falutin' gourmet, non-processed food sensibilities, back in the low-sodium day, my favorite food was ramen. It was a great way to mainline salt in a craving but a rare treat. I spent HOURS looking at sodium contents trying to figure out a way to justify it. I would've given my right tooth to have found this version.

So now, they've finally come out with a low sodium version. Right about the time I've stopped eating it. I don't care, I bought a package anyway and ate the whole thing. Just to celebrate the new life while honoring the old struggle.

And Now for Something Completely Different

2008-08-23T01:07:00.001-07:00

Dear beloved supporters,

It's been a long time since I've sent out an update – partly because my life became very busy but mostly because there was nothing terribly exciting to report. Nothing has changed except for a simple desire to reconnect with you all and let you know how I am doing. The short answer is that I am doing, how can I put this modestly?, freakin' awesome. Read on for the looooong answer....

I also wanted to answer the question that I get asked the most: How is life different with a new heart? I attempted to answer that question a couple of months post transplant when I was euphoric to be waking up in my bed on this side of heaven every morning. Everything in that answer was true – but oh my, if I could've told myself where my heart would take me in less than 18 months, I would've called myself a liar and stomped off.

Luckily for all involved I was able to find out organically. So, what has changed? On the surface, my life almost looks virtually the same as my pre-transplant years. I'm still singing, I'm still working, and, I'm still living a very full and busy life. But that's only the beginning.

The one thing I didn't count on when I got out of the hospital on that snowy December 2006 day was how long recovery was going to take. I wasn't stupid – I knew it would take months of rehab and sleep (lots and lots of sleep) to get righted but I had no idea it would take until May. MAY 2008.

The good thing about this time was that I didn't know I was still recovering. Every day I felt better but it was so subtle that I assumed I was done. I returned to my pre -transplant activities with renewed vigor. Even so, I searched for differences between then and now and to my mind, they seemed slight: I was happy to have the extra energy required to manage two choruses; dancing was easier and I did have a clearer head and quicker mind at work. I couldn't decide what was new and what could be chalked up to enthusiasm for getting back to my life. I sorta figured that my heart was giving me the extra energy I needed to live my pre-transplant life to the fullest.

There was one thing that was different and I knew it: my workouts. Working out? As in exercise? Sweet fancy moses, yes. I love working out. I could see constant and consistent improvement. But I still had worked out back in the day - well before transplant and even before my deterioration starting in 2004 I was doing yoga, light exercise and Pilate's. Apparently, the Miss Thing that I am had some pretty high standards for recovery that even I didn't know about.

And then came May 2008. That's right. May of this year. I'd settled into a nice routine - back to activities and having a blast. I decided to challenge myself and see what Thumper could really do. So I decided, with Chris and Lisa and my good friends (hi Kris, Steve, Deb and Brian!), to do the BolderBOULDER. The night before, I was freaking out. I''d never gone 10K in a workout and most certainly had never gone that far, on foot, at any point in my life. What was I thinking?

But the next day, in the rain and cool, we got our butts out there and did it. Less than two hours after starting (1:50 to be exact) I RAN over the finish line (watch the video here). I suddenly knew I was better. And it wasn't a drug plateau, or just extra energy or just enthusiasm. This was the real deal. I was SIGNIFICANTLY BETTER than I was before. Better than I have EVER BEEN.

I'd turned a corner. This was what it was like. I've never know what this would feel like. In heart failure, I was considered "well-compensated." I'd been living with it for so long and from such a young age, my body had grown up thinking it was normal. I was used to lower limitations and tiredness as a way of life. Even my most health and energetic times were nothing like this. As an example, when I was feeling some of the best ever - in my early 20s - I went to a concert at Red Rocks. My good friend (thanks Tammy!) had to CARRY me up the stairs because, despite as well-adjusted as I was, I just couldn't do it. Two weeks ago, I climbed 1200 vertical feet to "summit" at 12,500 feet on Mt.Bierstadt . We were turned away from the real summit because of weather. It made that Red Rocks day seem far far away.

There have been other changes. I think many people thought, myself included, that the greatest and most awesome change would've been a simple element: salt. All my adult life, I'd been wishing and praying for the ability to eat regular foods and not have to watch my sodium. When the nurse in my transplant orientation meeting back in the hospital said that I would eventually be able to eat anywhere from 2000 to 5000 milligrams of sodium per day (compared to less than 500mgs – seriously) I wondered how fast I could get a new heart into my body. It was all I could dream about.

Then there was something about the VAD experience that cut that dream short. I was separated from my beloved food. I wasn't interested in eating it, reading about it, watching TV about it or even thinking about it. I now know that I had to die to that idol. I had to find my comfort elsewhere. That separation profoundly affected me.

And not surprisingly, eating regular foods wasn't the first thing I wanted to do when I got out. The first thing I wanted to do was move. Exercise. Maybe it is a specific gift from my specific donor but the urge is undeniable. I'm even writing this after a work out that consisted of riding my bicycle from the office to the gym, another 30 minutes on the treadmill at a 10% incline and a round of weights on the circuit machines.

Don't get me wrong, though, I still love eating normal food. I love bread and pho and cheese and soups and…I could go on. But it isn't the same. I appreciate the convenience of being able to eat out without retribution or easily creating a nice healthy dinner without cooking everything from scratch. But I don't eat chips non stop or mainline pretzels. Oddly enough, I think about dessert the most. That is new for me – I had no restrictions on sweets pre-transplant. Now I crave them. Another gift from my donor I am guessing.

As if a second chance weren't enough, I now have the desire and the ability to DO STUFF. And do stuff I do. Along with the sweets craving, the exercise habits, I've developed an unlikely and profound addiction to video games. Oh, the mysteries of 18 year old males. I love this heart for its youth and strength. It makes me happy to give back by playing a little Wii. That's my excuse, people, and I am sticking to it.

I am awe-struck by how my heart has continued to change my life. I continue to pray for the family of my donor – that one day I may get to meet them and thank them in person. In the meantime, though, I start every day in gratitude for this gift and praise God for giving me this incredible second chance.

Lastly, I wanted to thank the over 100 friends, family and supporters that came to my party in January. What a blow out! I was so happy to celebrate that milestone with you and I am touched beyond belief that so many of you came. For those who weren't there, you were missed! My very talented father created a video for the event – if you were not there or wish to see it again, you can find it here.

I am truly blessed to have this life.

I will write again in time to share more of my life. Until then, I remain yours in love and gratitude,

Sarah T (the "T" stands for Transplant!) Hassell

Defying Gravity

2008-08-20T22:19:00.000-07:00

It was a spur of the moment decision - we were all free the following weekend so naturally, why not camp? Our original intent was to go backpacking, but lack of equipment forced us to consider car camping locations instead. We decided to camp at Guanella Pass, just south of Georgetown with, oh my goodness I could hardly believe it, an assault on the summit of Mt. Bierstadt.

Conditions were lovely as we started out on Saturday morning - it was hot in Boulder and the sun followed us up I-70 and almost to our campsite. We unloaded, set up our tents and watched the clouds roll in while enjoying our makeshift lunches. Sprinkles of rain sent us retreating to our tents for afternoon naps. Aside from the blaring music in the camp next door, a peaceful stillness reigned even as the thunderstorm amped up.

Once the skies opened up, Chris and I zipped out of our tent to set up a tarp for the wood. Immediately, my jacket was soaked. So much for my assumed-waterproof winter coat, but my brand new hiking boots were keeping my feet warm and dry. Once the rain subsided to large drips off the trees and one trip back to the town to get new water, we emerged from our tents for dinner and fellowship.

Sunday dawned in a cold mist that we kept hoping would burn off. We ate our pancakes quickly and pulled on our warmest to climb. Lisa met us at the top of the pass - the trailhead - and outfitted me with more weatherproof gear. Thank goodness for outdoorsy sisters. We started off towards Mt. Bierstadt, considered one of the easiest 14ers at 14,060 feet. Starting at 11,700, the climb would be 6-7 miles and take us up 2,800 vertical feet.

Here is us starting out.

The hike takes you across a huge portion of marshland - up and down 200 vertical feet - before starting the climbing. The expected burn off never happened but the clouds held in a mild coolness and we were soon sweating.

I'll be honest, the climb wasn't easy. Once the inclines started, I would hike until my heart rate got to 160 or so before stopping for a break. Interval mountain training is how I like to think of it. After about a minute, we'd start back up the next hill. We talked about my donor, wondering if he'd ever done something like this. He's always present.

I felt bad stopping everyone so we sent part of our group ahead with Chris, Lisa and I trailing. I was embarrassed until I looked behind me and saw other climbers doing the same thing.

Wending and weaving our way up the mountain, we stopped and started. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I couldn't believe how hard it was but how easy at the same time. We were getting a workout.

It began to rain as we summmited our first mini-mountain. Not just heavy mist, but RAIN. People coming down told us it was snowing at the summit. We were in good rain gear but no one was prepared for snow. We weren't prepared and frankly, we didn't want to deal with it. So we started back down.

I'm telling you, coming down the steep inclines, even over the scree, wasn't hard but going across that marshland was a killer. Any hike that ends going up isn't a fun walk. We trudged - literally - over the walkways and through the stream. My legs were like lead but I was so proud of myself. I had done it - we hadn't finished but the mountain will be there at least a few more days. We'd gone 1,200 vertical feet, topped out at 12,500 and traveled about 5.2 miles.

One of my goals is to get one of these babies under my belt. We'll try again. Anyone else want to join?

Corporate Creative Design

2008-08-06T10:12:00.001-07:00

more graph humor and song chart memes

Everything Must Go!

2008-07-31T22:59:00.000-07:00

This past week I've been literally cleaning out the closets. When my company downsized many years ago, we offloaded an office stocked for 300 people. The dregs of that massive effort, as I discovered last week, were STILL in the cabinets.

Deplorable.

As I stood in the "kitchen", looking through our storage cabinet in there, I remembered obsessively keeping the cabinet the same over the course of the last several years. "Mustn't throw anything out..." I imagined myself muttering. "Must keep my precious the same."

Tricksy packrats.

Enough was enough. I realized that I've been afraid to throw anything away for the last 5 years. Time to let it all go. ALL of it go. A dumping spree ensued with hopefully benefiting those who can't buy their own school supplies.

Change propagates change. This weekend, Chris and I are doing the same with our house. It's time to move forward, not hang on to the past. My new heart pushed me into my future - and I'm claiming it.

Go forth and change.

A Lost Art

2008-07-27T23:41:00.000-07:00

I can see why home canning is out of favor in today's world. The process is fairly complicated, you need to be hyper-clean and the best time to can is the worst time of the year. Who wants to spend a July afternoon in a hot kitchen filled with several large pots of heavily boiling water? And most importantly, why bother? You can buy perfectly adequate pickles, jams and canned fruits at your local grocery store for cheaper and easier.

But even against those odds, the siren call of little baskets of bright green cucumbers called out to me at the farmer's market this weekend. I remembered snorting from getting a face full of tangy boiling vinegar and fingertips tingling from boiling hot lids and water. I remembered a kitchen so hot with billowing steam that I canned in a bikini top and shorts. I remembered being able to serve my own pickles as relish with every meal and knowing exactly what was in them. I bought the cucumbers.

And yesterday I turned out six lovely pints of deep yellow-green bread and butter pickles. Air conditioning and a strong husband helped with the heat and the lifting. It's enough to get me barely exited for winter with hearty bowls of soup and sourdough, soft cheese and pickles. (Yes, Chris and I understand and accept fully that we are hobbits).

There is no doubt that canning is as laborious and useless a kitchen task as there currently is. But seriously, there are fewer culinary tasks more satisfying than seeing rows of your own (tastier) pickles lined up in the pantry. And of course, the knowledge that the carbon footprint on these pickles is much smaller than the ones at the store is a pretty nice side benefit too.

Hooray for canning!

Being Creative

2008-07-25T22:42:00.000-07:00

Chris and I are currently in the middle of a week of creativity. Every day for a week, we are encouraging each other to do something creative - something outside our normal realm which means creatively reorganizing the storage closet at work doesn't count.

Today's creative endeavor was in the kitchen with a no-recipe dinner of an Asian chicken salad. My favorite guilty kitchen secret is prepared salad dressing. I love it as salad dressing, marinade, quick sauce and even for a flavorful cooking oil. Such an easy way to pump up flavor on a busy weeknight without feeling like I'm simply assembling processed foods.

So, it's a super easy salad. First, take a few boneless chicken breasts and marinade them in an Asian salad dressing. I used Kraft's Light Toasted Sesame or somesuch. After they sat for an hour or so in the fridge, I had Chris fired up our grill. While it was heating, I took some diced yellow peppers and quickly sauteed them with some minced ginger and shallots. I don't care for raw peppers but didn't want them cooked so I only heated them enough to be slightly toothsome and to bloom out the ginger.

I spread that on a cooking board and got the chicken grilling. To distract me from continually poking the chicken, I tore, rinsed and dried enough red leaf lettuce for two salads. I threw that into a bowl and added the cooled pepper mixture, some diced dried apricots, sliced almonds and some ginger-garlic wonton strips I found in the salad section of the store.

I tossed the salad with some of the dressing then plated it into our favorite salad bowls. The chicken was done then sliced and put on top. We added more dressing to taste and dug in.

Mmm. My creative cooking in the kitchen was delicious. Every bite was gingery and juicy with the peppers. The chicken was moist and thanks to the beauty of the prepared dressing, all the flavors melded quickly and superbly.

An admirable creative effort if I do say so myself!

Shamefully Overdue Post

2008-07-07T22:24:00.001-07:00

For my peeps in the Northland Chorale

Random Thoughts for a Tuesday

2008-06-17T13:33:00.001-07:00

I have a feeling that once I finally learn Adobe's CS3 Design Standard, it is going to change my life.

Relying on Web 2.0 for your life has it's challenges. Like sites constantly down due to "technical issues". Twitter, I'M TALKING TO YOU. Also, listen up Technorati!

Let the internal predators do their thing at your workplace. I'm repeating that to myself that today so I don't just tell ours to suck it.

My Friend Ray

2008-06-12T10:10:00.001-07:00

My friend Ray was a great guy. He was larger than life with a history filled with stories of music, laughter, family and service. He had a deep booming voice and a tendency to hit all the notes but to mix up the lyrics. Or sometimes he'd just make up a random word if he couldn't remember the right one. It never failed to make me giggle.

We must've looked like quite a pair when we stood next to each other in choir, a rare event for a bass and an alto anyway, but made moreso by our dramatic height difference and the fact that you could probably fit all of me into one of his pant legs.

What made Ray a unique friend was his humble and sharing spirit. As a young woman with a serious heart condition, it was rare if not impossible to find another person my age who understood the life that comes with heart failure. Meeting Ray was an "ah-ha!" moment - I learned in a flash that my support system would look different than I imagined - I could find camaraderie with the old guys. See, Ray was 44 years older me - old enough to be my grandpa - yet spirited and smart enough about his condition to see it fit to befriend a young'un like myself.

Ray and I (and Jim) began supporting each other through our various heart trials. We compared stories about tests, drugs, and procedures. I became used to hearing Ray asking me, "hey, kid...so they put me on this new drug..." And since we saw each other every week it was easy to keep track of what we were going through.

I called Ray from the hospital after my a-fib diagnosis just to hear him tell me (like seeing him wasn't enough) that yes, you can live with weird heart rhythms. He clued me in on the dangers of amioderone and I listened with to him share his struggles with weight loss. We commiserated over the low-sodium diet and the charming effects of lasix.

Ray died this past Saturday after a hard struggle with lung cancer. I have missed hearing my friend's voice in choir and I will miss his support and friendship. My heart goes out Sandy and his family. And Ray, wherever you are, thanks for ignoring the 44 years between us and helping me feel less alone in my fight.

BolderBOULDER 2008

2008-06-07T00:15:00.000-07:00

BolderBOULDER 2008 from Sarah Hassell on Vimeo.

Crazy-Busy

2008-06-04T21:21:00.001-07:00

I went from basically filing my nails at work to suddenly designing, website maintenance and blogging. The best part is getting paid for blogging - it's only temporary but I'm writing the updates for two expeditions being undertaken by my boss's family. My boss and his 10-year old son are climbing Mt. Elbrus in Russia - even as I type this they are making their summit attempt. After, I'll be writing updates on the family's climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Check it out the Climb 7 blog.

A Song-gasm

2008-05-31T23:19:00.000-07:00

Despite a couple tenors making an early entrance, Sure on this Shining Night still carries the day as my favorite choir song from the 2007-2008 season - of both my choirs and we sang the bejeezus out of it tonight. Splendid. And we even held the pitch on Somewhere. Now just three more practices, two more special gigs and Miami and then I can relax...until August.

We WON!

2008-05-27T11:41:00.000-07:00

Not technically since we came in roughly 43,775th but just finishing is victory enough. More pictures (and maybe video!) to follow in a few days as we get everything uploaded and shared. The picture was taken by Chris who was running BACKWARDS in front of us grabbing shots as he could through the crowd.

An Ode to Granola

2008-05-22T22:45:00.000-07:00

I wonder what is happening in Ames, Iowa - right now on the Friday before Memorial Day. I can guarantee you it's not what is happening here in Boulder. You can feel the town shifting; everywhere you go there are people. More cars on the road, more people in the stores, the parking lots are zoos and the hordes of bicycles are unreal.

Here in my part of Boulder, north of Arapahoe and west of 30th, we've been living with Bolder Boulder for about 2 weeks. The same orange signs come out every year WARNING everyone with their bureaucratic enthusiasm that this road will be CLOSED or parking is NOT ALLOWED HERE on race day. Similarly, today when driving down 30th, tall fences block of the grass on the sides of the road and cars populate where a chute of people will be charging through in mere days.

Evidence is everywhere that something is happening. A giant tent is going up in the FedEx Kinkos parking lot - blocking half the already scarce tiny spaces. But for those of us sneaking past the workers into the Boulder Running Company, postcards in hand to pick up our race packets, you can see that we don't mind the extra walk. It's nothing compared to what we'll be doing a lot more in a few days; heck, most of us have already done that at the gym already.

In Whole Foods, signs are proclaiming "FUEL FOR RACE DAY" and I join my fellow shoppers in loading up on gourmet trail mix, in our stylishly casual gym clothes, eyes peeking to see what everyone else is buying. I stop outside to snap a picture of an painted VW bus - the paint worn and faded - and driven by a small gray haired woman. I already know that she will smell of pachouli and her underarms unshaven. I cheer her on silently as Old Boulder hurries into the store.

Up along Boulder Creek, by the library, a forest of more tents are going up. This is the only town I've seen that gets more crowded over a three-day weekend. Everyone stays. Everyone wants to go to the Boulder Creek Festival and eat turkey dogs, falafal and drink Fat Tire. Everyone wants to run the Bolder Boulder. Everyone wants to walk the mall, drinking in the sunshine and gazing at the mountains dreaming of scaling the Flatirons with their golden retriever or black lab.

Boulder is the only town I know where a 10-year old child climbs a mountain and sings when he gets to the top for the sheer joy of climbing. Boulder is the only town I know where a woman who spends all day forcing people to exercise comes home, gets her dogs and runs for all those who never listen to her. Boulder is the only town I know where you see groups of musicians playing the drums and singing Christian music on the mall and drawing a curious crowd.

This is my town - where the athlete, the vegetarian and the yuppie are celebrated and co-exist peacefully with the hippie, the student and the foodie. A strange conglomeration where past and present sometimes clash with money and image. But for one weekend everyone is a runner and everyone is a hippie - and everyone gets along, with a little help from the Fat Tire, of course.

Go To Meal - Thai Soup with Sauteed Tilapia

2008-05-20T22:46:00.000-07:00

Argh. It's been too long since I've posted! So here goes with another type of post. I had no particular agenda when starting this blog other than, perhaps, a secret desire to practice writing about the various subjects that interest me - like cooking. So without further ado, my stab at a cooking/food related post!

I think everyone should have a set of "Go To" meals - you know, the ones with the easy ingredients that you always have on hand. I found this one about a year ago when I ran out of reading material at cardiac rehab (hi Denise!) and had to read one of their boring cookbooks. I painstakingly copied it by hand - THE HORROR - while working out on the treadmill. I've made a few changes and I like to mix it up, but hey, that's how I roll. Plus it's delicious. So let's get on with the cookin'.

Thai Soup with Sauteed Tilapia

The first thing to do is start some rice cooking. My new favorite is brown basmati rice made in my splendid new rice cooker. Just throw it in, add the water and get that baby going.

Then, I trundle off to put together my mise en place; I chop some celery, carrots, onion, two cloves of garlic and a tomato. Real garlic is best - I can't say if the recipe will taste the same with garlic powder. I also throw in a couple handfuls of frozen pepper strips. The green stuff there is about 1 1/2 teaspoons of Thai green curry paste/powder. Use as much or as little as you want since it can be searing hot.

Once I have all that together, I throw some sesame oil and canola in my wok and start it heating. The veggies go in until the onions are translucent then the tomatoes and the curry powder. By this point, its a fragrant mess of color and Thai goodness. All of this takes about 7 minutes or so.

I guess I should mention at this point that while fast, this recipe has quite a few steps. Rachael Ray fans should probably quietly excuse themselves here. Yummo, yes. Simple-o? Not so much.

Okay, so while the mirepoix mixture is doing its thang, get two cups of fish stock (or veggie stock - I use a cup of each), about 1 1/2 tablespoons stanky fish sauce, 1/2 teaspoon of brown sugar and some minced ginger (optional). Add this mixture to the veggies/curry and bring to a boil. Let it simmer while you prep and cook the fish. And yes, I realize that is bottled lime juice, but seriously, people, even though I hand mince my garlic, who has time to juice their own limes. Or keep them in the fridge all the time.

So, I like to use the vacuum sealed bags of tilapia for my fish. They are easy and thawed under cold running water in the time it took me to get this far in the recipe. I patted them dry and then sprinkled a bit of grill seasoning on them so they wouldn't look quite so pasty in the picture, but that's optional. In a separate pan, heat up some sesame and canola oil and saute the fish until it is opaque.

At this point, add a tablespoon or so of lime juice to the soup (or to taste), adjust the salt/fish sauce and if you are feeling crazy, throw in a handful of frozen edamame. If you are feeling really crazy, a half pound or so of fresh pineapple is outstanding but you have to be able to fully embrace your sweet/savory side to enjoy.

Hopefully by this time, all is done - soup is simmered and rice is steamed. Assembly is easy - scoop of rice, ladle of soup and topped with a piece of fish.

Then serve to your hungry crew to rave reviews.

Lisa's Questionnaire

2008-05-12T10:09:00.000-07:00

Lisa is going to a women's retreat this weekend and the leader asked all the participants to complete the following questionnaire. It requires a bit more thought than the usual passed around questionnaire - you know, the one with questions like "Hugs or kisses?" (the answer is hugs, by the way).

Favorite Color
Light pink, all shades of blue (but especially light blue), anything combined with dark chocolate brown, and red

Favorite Song
What kind of question is this? My personal theme song is Fighter By Christina Aguilera. These are some of the songs that I rarely skip when my iPod is on shuffle (my highest honor indeed): Candyman and Mercy on Me (both Christina Aguliera), Mr. Roboto (Styx), Sure on This Shining Night (my choir), What You Own and Another Day from Rent, and anything from Too Hot to Handel.

Favorite Kind of Food
Asian food - specifically Vietnamese and even more specifically, pho; FISH, FISH, FISH - love it and eat as much as possible as I sense it's on a limited-time only basis; bread and it's incarnations - sammies, muffins, rolls; over the top gourmet "foodie" food; my homemade "go-to" comfort food; any kind of soup or stew; desserts - ice cream, chocolate, cake, brownies, cookies;

Biggest Dream
To make a living off my writing/designing and be a stay-at-home-wife/mother at the same time. I would like to write a book and be able to volunteer for the various causes with which I'm involved.

What I Wanted to Be When I Grew Up
I wanted to be a scientist, a detective, a spy, a pediatric cardiologist, a foreign services officer/CIA agent and a lawyer.

Time in My Life When I Feel/Felt Most Beautiful
I think maybe now. But then again with few notable exceptions (like all of 2006) if you asked me this question anytime in my adult life, I think I would've said the present at that moment. I definitely feel gorgeous on stage with my chorale. And my hubby makes me feel beautiful too.

Time I Felt Most Free
This may sound odd, but October 2006 - the days/weeks in room 491 prior to my biVAD surgery. Yes, the circumstances sucked. I was scared and handling random crises but I knew with absolute clarity who I was and what I had to do. There was no work, no performances, no church, no bills, and no chores. My world was the size of a small hospital room - all I had to do was stay alive and dream dreams of the future.

Something People Don't Know About Me
Some people know this, but I LOVE video games. Our Wii, the Daily Show and the Colbert Report are the ONLY reasons I even turn on the television. A high school friend once had a t-shirt saying "I Wanna Marry a Rock Star." Pish posh on that, I say. My t-shirt would say "I Wanna BE a Rock Star."

Something I Really Want to Try (at least once in my life)
Singing with a band, arranging a choral song, running (not walking) the Bolder Boulder, driving a really powerful, fast car...this is worth a whole blog entry in and of itself.

Three Qualities that Make Me Unique
1) I'm living on the other side - my heart transplant at 34 - and I feel the power of that experience every day.
2) I'm a liberal Christian who votes Democrat
3) Money is of little interest to me.

My Crazy Left Arm

2008-05-07T15:38:00.000-07:00

At practice on Saturday, Jill comes up to me and whispers, "I don't know if it's the new heart or what, but your left arm has it's own groove thing going on." It seems that my body is following the steps, but my arm feels compelled to bring its own spicy action to the party. A problem only in that I have the ONLY CRAZY ARM in the group and that makes it sorta noticeable.

Here is the email exchange with Lisa that describes it best:

Sarah: I'm so happy you are coming on Friday! Even though we are most likely going to be laying in small sad puddles of exhaustion on stage. Except for my left arm, of course.

Lisa: I can just see the choir, all laying in a huge heaping pile of exhausted
sweaty bodies with you hopefully on top and then wait...one sees movement! And its your arm, starting to flop around like a newly caught fish. But to a beat.

So I think Jill is right. I didn't dance this way before my transplant so this can only be the doing of Thumper. I suspect my Thumper used to be a dancer. I'm actually 99% sure that he was, but since I don't know, I'm not going to say for sure. I've done my research but have never heard from my donor family. If I did, the first thing I would ask is if Thumper was a musically inclined - either dancing or singing. And if he liked video games.

This is the first time in a long time I've felt the spirit of Thumper. He was strong when I first was transplanted but then everything was loud, confusing and overstimulated. I sensed he was a bit wary - comfortable, but still finding himself in this new person doing new things. But I'm hearing him now - loudly. He loves to dance - he wants to dance with me. And I'm happy to oblige. So if you see me on stage and see that left arm whacking out - you know that it's not me dancing wrong, that's my Thumper saying hi.

Best $12 You'll Spend in May

2008-05-05T22:00:00.001-07:00

I'm not joking when I say this may be the best Northland show ever.

The lines for Speed Racer will be too long on Friday and Saturday. Save that for Sunday. See us instead.

Discounted seats if you are in a local chorus or theater group. Email me or post a comment and I'll send you the info.

Northland Chorale: Gotta Sing! Gotta Dance!

Dates: 5/9 at 7:30, 5/10 at 7:30, 5/16 at 7:30 and 5/17 at 2:30 (SAT matinée - not our usual Sunday matinée)
Price: $12 adults/ $10 seniors/ $8 kids (tickets can be bought through me, at the door or online)
Place: DL Parsons Theater at 11801 Community Center Dr. in Northglenn
What: Come see my new heart in action as we sing - and DANCE - to songs about dancing. Gary Carnes will be emceeing/hosting/making you laugh. This will be our most dance intensive show and we are dancing to all but two songs - several people have actually lost weight. Should be a great show.

Best Thing You've Ever Done

2008-05-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

The other day I found myself saying, "man, that was one of the best things I've ever done for myself" in regards to my laptop. I gave a start when I realized that yes, buying the laptop was indeed one of the best things I've ever done. I use it all the time: for work-stuff at work, for personal-stuff at work, writing in bed at night, checking the internet while I watch tv - for EVERYTHING.

I was so stressed when I bought the laptop. I had promised myself that when the time came to get my heart replaced, I would treat myself to a Playstation. I knew, and rightly so, that if purchased willy-nilly, I would become addicted to playing video games. That has proved true. I can't get enough of my Wii. Even as I type this I'm planning my next moves in Zelda.

But I digress, when I found myself in the hospital waiting for a transplant, the PS3 had just come out for the ungodly price of $1,300. At the time, I just wanted the Internet and not video games so with trepidation, I spent the money on the laptop. I haven't regretted it EVER.

What have you ever considered one of the best things you've ever done for yourself? I'm not talking the big stuff - like going on that first date with your spouse or changing jobs - but something smaller and less life-changing. Something that you did that has made an impact on how you live your life or view the world. That's my lappytop for you...one of the best thing I've ever done.

Evolution of Dance

2008-04-26T15:31:00.001-07:00

This has over 83 million hits on YouTube so somebody out there in the Intertubes likes it.

Be glad the choreographers took pity on us for "Shake It".

Enjoy!

Eyes Wide Shut

2008-04-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

An exchange at choir practice last night

Bob: Try making your "ooohs" darker. Like the tenors are doing.

(we sing)

Bob: Sopranos, don't forget to watch for the rest.

Soprano: Hey! My eyes were closed...that's the only way to make my ooohs darker.

Choir Geek

2008-04-21T12:34:00.000-07:00

Northland Chorale: Gotta Sing! Gotta Dance!

Dates: 5/9 at 7:30, 5/10 at 7:30, 5/16 at 7:30 and 5/17 at 2:30 (SAT matinée - not our usual Sunday)
Price: $12 adults/ $10 seniors/ $8 kids (tickets can be bought through me, at the door or online)
Place: DL Parsons Theater at 11801 Community Center Dr. in Northglenn
What: Come see my new heart in action as we sing - and DANCE - to songs about dancing. Gary Carnes will be emceeing/hosting/making you laugh. This will be our most dance intensive show and we are dancing to all but two songs - several people have actually lost weight. Should be a great show.

Sine Nomine: Singing our Lives

Date: 5/31 at 7:30 p.m.
Price: $10 recommended donation
Place: Park Hill UCC at 2600 Leyden in Denver
What: This is my chamber chorus. We don't dance :-) The show will feature the GALA set we'll be performing in Miami this summer along with music we're singing just because it's fun and just because it's pretty!

Colorado Symphony Chorus: Carmina Burana (Chris's choir!)

Date: 5/18 at 2:30 (this is the date I'm going, but they are singing it all weekend)
Price: All depends - we may be able to get some half price tickets.
Place: Boettcher Concert Hall at the DPAC in downtown Denver
What: If you've never heard Carmina Burana performed live before, the CSO chorus is who you want to hear it done by. They are fabulous and I daresay this could be one of their signature pieces.

The Name

2008-04-18T12:07:00.000-07:00

Last year, we all did the Heart Walk in downtown Denver. For us humans, it was a great day. The sun was warm and we were celebrating a heart all whole.

But for the Claude the dog - it was a CAR RIDE! a WALK! human FOOD! new SMELLS! And, he got to do it all with the people he loved most in the world. With a dog's memory span, it was highly conceivable that this was his best day of life.

Just like every day has been for me since 8 Nov 2007.

My First Entry

2008-03-31T13:09:00.000-07:00

I figured since I was going to announce to the world that I have a blog on my Facebook site, I probably ought to have something posted on the actual blog. Go figure.

Welcome to my blog! I will be writing about various things - mostly things going on in my life. Stay tuned for more information on who I am and what I want to say.