Spring Comes to the Farm

After two weeks of temperatures in the 70s and 80s, spring has come to the farm. There are things blooming that are usually out in late April. I wonder what July will be like?

I walked the woods the other day to find bluebells and spring beauties in bloom. I am sure the morels will be popping up soon, too. Hopefully I can get to them before the deer discover them.

With this incredible stretch of weather, I have been MIA from the workroom. I am going to force myself this week to get back into the routine. I have lots of ideas I want to work on.

In the meantime, I am going to enjoy the view out the window and put together my to-do list. Have a wonderful weekend!

Pretty in Pink

Life has finally calmed down. Thank heavens! I have wandered back into the workroom. It has felt good to play with wire and beads again. I am hoping to spend the next few weeks making my ideas into real jewelry.

For some reason, the color pink has been something I have been drawn to lately. I find that funny since I do not own a piece of pink clothing and living with three males, there is definitely not any pink in my home. Pink does make an appearance in the summer thanks to the gardens. I have gorgeous pink David Austin roses and hot pink phlox that make me smile when I see them. Maybe missing the gardens is what has prompted this fascination with pink, but it has been fun to create these newest pieces.

The workroom is calling. Back to work for me.

Happy 2012

I for one am glad to bid 2011 goodbye. It was a cruel year for my family. We endured a rough winter with too much snow and then a spring and summer with too much rain. We watched our 19 year old son battle cancer during the summer and fall, and then said goodbye to my father after a sudden and brief illness.

Here is hoping 2012 is a kinder year...for all of us. Happy New Year!

Snowflakes

For years, I have been making beaded snowflake ornaments. Originally, they were made as Christmas presents for family members who did not get to experience much snow during the holiday season. I also found them to be wonderful gifts for teachers and to dress up bottles of wine.

My mother always had handmade ornaments on our tree. Her snowflake ornaments were made by crocheting. That is one craft I have never been able to master. She also decorated Styrofoam balls with bits of ribbons and pieces of old costume jewelry and beads. I am fortunate to have those ornaments now. To me, a Christmas tree needs to have ornaments made by hand with love hanging from them.

My ornaments are unique in that I try to make each one different, just as in nature. I use pieces from old jewelry that I look for at tag and garage sales. My snowflake ornaments are made with clear beads. I prefer them that way. I like the way they sparkle from the tree.

I started selling my ornaments a few years ago. I like the fact I have sent snowflakes to LA, Miami and Paris. I just wish I could find a way to ship the real stuff come January. Living in an area known as the Snowbelt - I would have a lot to ship!

Detour Over

I am happy to report that my amazing son has completed his final radiation treatment and has returned to school.

This mom was one emotional wreck when she said goodbye. He has lots of people looking out for him which made the goodbye easier. I look forward to watching him spread his wings and put this part of his life in the background.

Thanks for reading our travels along the detour. It is time to get back to creative endeavors and topics.

Detour over.

Lessons Learned From The Detour

We have been traveling the detour for two months now. We are all still sane (or as close as we can be) and can find humor in some of our journey. I view that as a positive. I continue to be in awe of my son and how he has handled this. We have yet to hear a "why me?" or a meltdown.

We are hoping he had his last chemo treatment a few days ago. We await the scan to determine whether additional chemo is needed or if he gets to move on to the next form of torture - radiation. Hopefully our travels down the detour will be coming to an end soon.

Here are some observations I have made along the detour.

During difficult or bad times, take attendance as to who is present. I think you will be surprised by who is there and who is not. Focus your attention on those who are present. You will be happier that way. I am still trying to work on that one.

Nurses are amazing people. We have yet to encounter a nurse that was not caring. In the oncology unit, the nurses brighten up when they see my son and pop in during treatment to talk with him. Early on during our detour when we were still uncertain as to what we were dealing with, the nurses were our lifeline for information. I used to think Hospice workers were angels on earth but I think all nurses are.

Little gestures mean a lot. An email, text message, phone call or card can brighten a day. The days following treatment are long and difficult. Those little gestures helped to lighten the load during particularly rough days.

The quiet of 3am is when fear comes knocking. Do not give into it. Try to keep positive thoughts and energy in your life. They make the detour easier.

Ask the person with the illness how they are. My son complains that many people - especially extended family - fail to ask him. They think they are helping by ignoring it but instead are insulting him. He is in the biggest battle of his life and would like that recognized. Another thing that drives him crazy is when someone asks me how he is and he is right next to me.

Along that same line, even though my son's prognosis is good, he has to go through hell to get there. Many people seemed to forget that.

Plan for the unexpected. We were sent reeling when our son's college denied his return in the fall because of the cancer. Thanks to our son's oncologist and my husband's unrelenting pressure, the school finally changed their decision. Never in a million years did we think we would have to fight them and cancer.

Chicken soup really does work wonders. On days when my son was quite nauseous, chicken soup in its various forms were things he could eat. Thank heavens for the late hours at our local Chinese restaurant and their won ton soup.

Each chemo treatment brings a different side effect. Just when we had figured out how to handle one, a different one would pop up.

As a parent, you want to hover. Do not. We let our son take control of his illness and care. He had so little control in his life this summer, he needed this. He knew we were there for him. When the pain would get to be too much, he would ask that we call his doctor. He had friends take him to some chemo treatments to help provide diversions. He knew if he needed something, he just had to ask us. He has thanked us countless times for giving him this control. It wasn't easy for us but it was the right thing to do.

Teal hair makes cancer more fun. My son's friends decided a bright hair color was the way to deal with hair loss. His hair is quite short now thanks to the "shedding" and the teal helps to detract from the bald patches he has. People often stare when he is out. To those who make comments - especially negative ones, my son looks at them and says it is the effect of chemo. So true. Had he not had chemo, he would never have teal hair.

Here is hoping the next posting from the detour will be to announce the detour is over.

Oh, The Places You'll Go

I walked with my son today through a door that read Oncology. In the three weeks that we have been traveling the detour, I had been busy making plans and dealing with family and friends. I had not allowed myself to deal with the fact we were on the detour. There in black and white, were the letters O N C O L O G Y. Seeing them made my stomach flip. At the registration desk, my son must have noticed my reaction because he asked me if I was okay. I composed myself and said yes. I felt silly for being the one affected. I mean he is the one with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I am just the mom.

As we were sitting in the examination room waiting on the doctor, my mind raced back to all the times I had taken him to the doctor's office. I remembered his first visit at two weeks old. The doctor laughed that his blue eyes were going to be hard to say no to. The trip to get stitches when he was 2. He fell at the daycare on my first day back at work after maternity leave. I viewed that as a sign I needed to be a stay-at home mom. The day before 1st grade when he fell and broke his wrist after his little brother dared him to stand on top of something. Most times, the visits were for nothing. Today, it was for something really big.

The doctor came in and explained in detail what would be happening during the course of treatment. He kept assuring us that this is very treatable and the survivor rate is exceedingly high. He asked about his health history. I relayed everything and commented that "he was always healthy". The doctor looked at me and said "he still is". At that moment, I felt intense gratitude to the man I had just met.

In two weeks, we will start a new journey on the detour. That is when the treatments start. We are both glad it has come to the point where the enemy has been identified and will be battled. My son decided he will dye his hair a wild color right before the treatments. It was a suggestion from two of his female friends. They will join him in this adventure. They figure if he has to lose his hair, it might as well be colorful.

Last year when my son was getting ready to head off for college, I pulled out one of his favorite books from his childhood. It was "Oh, The Places You'll Go". The sentiment seemed so perfect for that time in his life. This afternoon, sitting in the doctor's office, my mind wandered back to the book. Again, the sentiment seemed perfect to me. Oh, The Places You'll Go....