Le Monde de Fromage de Kate

I’ve been dreadfully remiss in posting. Yes, indeed.

I’m realizing that if I did a search on my site for that very phrase (“remiss in posting”) I’d probably get 563 hits. (Many thanks of gratitude to the Department of Redundancy Department for that statistic.)

It’s just that I’ve been so busy at Chez David & Julianne – doing VERY scientific slumber tests on their guest bed, generously eating all the home cooked healthy food proffered to me – you get the idea. It’s awfully hard work, as you can imagine.

Also, since I left my (BRAND NEW!!!!) camera at Senator Hatch’s office on LIVESTRONG® Day (Wednesday, May 16, 2007!) and have yet to have a chance to fetch it, David has been at my beck and command taking photos for me. I’ve developed a very streamlined system for this: I cry out, “Photographer – PHOTOGRAPHER – Please take a pictures of that cannon ball (or that jail or Peek-a-Boo Radley sitting by the gnomes or Peek-a-Boo Radley in the officers barracks or Peek-a-Boo Radley with the park ranger).” Okay – that’s not entirely true: Sometimes I do not say “please.”

I obviously need and intend to write all about LIVESTRONG® Day, as well as Chez David & Julianne (though I have to be VERY circumspect regarding that subject, as – remember – DAVID MAY HAVE TO KILL ME if I misspeak).

I should also write about Washington, D.C., Maryland (especially Baltimore, Catonsville – “Music City, Maryland,” and Ellicott City). I’ll get to it.

For now I’ll just provide one preview image of LIVESTRONG® Day:

Kermit & Kate, Utah Delegates, LIVESTRONG® Day 2007
Photo and Crane by Fred

In concurrence with my standard “KATE DETESTS AND ABHORS PICTURES OF HERSELF” protocol, I am not going to tell you which individual is me. I will, however, give you one hint: I am not African-American.

When I called to make Lark’s appointment (R.I.P. Little Fluffy One) at the veterinarian I also made an appointment to get my Kitten Children their long overdue vaccinations. For one, brief, completely unhinged moment I considered taking them all in together. But realizing that Lark’s prognosis would probably not be good, and also taking into the account the ridiculous logistics of taking one really sick lil’ dog who deserved my full attention and two Kitten Children who HATE riding in the car, I made an appointment for them today.

I think I’ve reached my medical office saturation point for the time being. Not all of these visits have been bad – and only one completely heartbreaking – but between appointments of my own, the appointment with Lark yesterday, taking Shirleen to a pain clinic yesterday (for a procedure with REALLY LONG NEEDLES – I still thought it was fascinating to watch – no offense Shirleen – I know HAVING it was not fun), then I took Shirleen BACK to the pain clinic today (after which, I thought I might strangle or bitch-slap someone, grab them by the collar and scream, “GIVE HER SOME MEDICATION PLEASE!!!! THIS WOMAN HAS A PAIN THRESHOLD UNLIKE ANYTHING I’VE EVER SEEN AND YET SHE’S HARDLY SLEPT IN MONTHS AND MONTHS.” She’s frustrated and angry, but much more patient than I am). Perhaps this is because during special nerve injection procedure, which I watched from the doorway of the “operating” room, I unexpectedly saw the visage of the Virgin Mary in one of the myriad x-rays of her scar tissue and back hardware. Seriously. I’ve certainly never been a disciple of any religious icon, but I almost loudly exclaimed, “A face, a FACE!!!” It’s THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY! LIGHT CANDLES!! GENUFLECT!!! I showed great restraint, however, and did not say ANYTHING until she and I were alone at which point she responded that perhaps we should all now worship her butt, though technically the scar tissue is a smidgen higher than that. Since she’s in wretched pain and horrifically sleep deprived we can give her the benefit of the doubt. So perhaps the Virgin Mary apparition in her scar tissue gives her miraculously high pain tolerance. Why not.

OHHH – speaking of keisters, back to the five zillionth medical appointment, which was this morning with the Kitten Children. The first adventure was putting them together into the soft-sided animal carrier.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, but since she’s not watching me type this, I am going to tell you a little secret (perhaps I should say a LARGE secret): Fiona Maura MacArthur, the younger of my babies, has a really substantial heinie. What’s more, as she grew she developed this hanging, baggy-skin, belly thing (they say it’s a calico proclivity). To top it all off, she has a wee little head. The amalgamation of these particular characteristics, to tell the truth, causes her to look like an optical illusion from some vantage points. The fact that she’s slightly bow-legged only enhances the effect.

I’m not being cruel; even my MOTHER calls her “fat-butt” (but in a very sweet tone so that ostensibly Fiona does not catch on). Besides, I relate.

For those of you who do not know me personally, no matter what my actual “size,” I have ALWAYS been “pear-shaped.” Oh, YES. As a matter of fact, more than once the jaunty tune, “I like Big Butts,” has lovingly been dedicated to me at a karaoke bar (one must admire the exquisite musical stylings of Sir Mix-A-Lot). It’s one of my life theme songs (everyone has theme songs for their lives whether they know it or not). Another of my life theme songs is “Mahbootay” by Laura Love. It’s an an insightful, astute commentary on the sizable derrière. I had the privilege of seeing her live at a folk and bluegrass festival a number of years ago. I had her autograph Shum Ticky with a fond inscription to my “big ol’ bootay.” In case you don’t believe me:

That day Janet asked me to grab a Lucy Kaplansky CD for her and get it autographed (since I was getting one, too). I had it signed, “To Janet, who was to lazy to come down the hill and get this signed herself.” I’m funny like that.

Anyhooooo, I suspected that Fiona had gained a couple of pounds this year (which – to me, anyway – feels substantial in a cat). I felt like BeBe (that’s Beatrice Alessandra Gatto, remember) was maintaining her lithe figure. I put them both in the carrier with GREAT DIFFICULTY, partly because they knew something was up (and were thus thwarting my well-intentioned efforts) and also because it was rather a tight squeeze. Nevertheless, I think that BeBe (who abhors car rides the most) was still more calm with Fiona in close proximity.

Then, when we got to the vet and went into the examination room, extracting the Kitten Children from the bag naturally proved to be rather a battle. But one by one they were weighed, had their temperatures taken (anally – BOY THEY LOVE THAT – I’ve tried that procedure on BeBe myself and am happy to leave it to the professionals whenever possible). They had their injections and nose spray vaccinations – I love that most of these now last for three years. They only need the FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) vaccine every year by nasal spray. They really were very good Kitten Children. A little selective hissing and twitching, but that was it.

Then, after we’d conversed about various medical issues such as the acronyms and placement of the assorted vaccinations, we discussed Fiona’s weight. Yes, indeed, she’s gained two or so pounds and is borderline overweight. Just like me, she will always have a posterior of significant proportions no matter what her size, but I need to keep an eye on the weight issue. OR I could let her get corpulent, repeat the jojoba oil debacle and start calling her “Shorty Greasy Spot Spot.”

But the very best moment was when, after our intelligent medical discourse, I mentioned something about how Fiona had always had a large rump. To this the vet responded – OH YES SHE DID – “Ah – she has a Badonkadonk Butt.” That’s by far the best diagnosis I’ve heard in a long time (PERHAPS ever). Well, if I hear that someone has actually been diagnosed with “Hot-Dog Fingers” that might run a close second.

I imagine if I were a tad more “Honkey Tonk” I might have to add that Trace Adkins ditty to my list of life anthems.

Hmm. My wind seems to be back, and it’s LONG.

Oh – P.S. Please imagine that every time in the above post when it says “today” it actually means yesterday and when I’ve written “yesterday” it’s really “the day before yesterday.” “Last week” is still “last week,” and a number of years ago… I think you get the picture.

I found out today that my great-uncle Ron received a preliminary cancer diagnosis – evidently widespread – insidious and everywhere. He’s only seventy-two.

This is the man who, among so many generous acts throughout life, battled a vicious gander for us when we were kids (I’m not kidding – the thing was savage beast). After herding it away from my cousins (technically they’re my Mother’s cousins, but we were all the same age, so we never could figure out if they were “removed” or whatnot), my siblings and I, the blasted thing continued its mad onslaught. So Uncle Ron, in defense of life and limb, grabbed the thing by the neck and started to swing it about towards the pond we were standing by. Surprisingly, the momentum took him all the way around in a circle which ended with a perfect backwards landing (what’s the opposite of a belly flop?) by Uncle Ron and the Gander INTO THE DRINK. It has to be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. We’ve said for over twenty years now that if we had footage of the whole spectacle that we’d have won a “funniest videos” show hands down.

All our love, support and good thoughts are with you, My Idahoan Extended Family. I will honour you, too, Uncle Ron, on LIVESTRONG® Day from our Nation’s Capitol. It’s no doubt an honour on which you’d pass. And I certainly would opt for a shorter list (okay – a nonexistent list) of those who I love who are battling, who have survived or who have succumbed to cancer.

I don’t care how old you are; everyone should have toys. And I have now experienced the toy that every single World citizen should own. It’s the Gazillion Bubbles® Jumbo Bubble Machine made by Funrise Toys®. My Mother purchased it at Costco, which is the best way to go, because not only do you get a great price there, but you get BONUSES, too (I love bonuses).

It was a present for Leif, who was having a sleep-over at our house a week or so ago. We set it up on the outside on the patio. This device purportedly would make “a gazillion bubbles” while making ENORMOUS bubbles within bubbles. Mind you, I am very skeptical of exaggerated product claims, but once we successfully set the thing up and turned it on IT STARTED MAKING A GAZILLION BUBBLES. Huge bubbles, small bubbles, bubbles within bubbles – streams and streams of bubbles.

Suffice it to say, Leif and I were BOTH vastly impressed. Obviously our mission was to destroy as many bubbles as possible. Leif, at one point, decided that we should each have “ten powers.” However, when he to his sixth power, he decided that we should have “six powers.” I opted for five – my first power being “poking” (okay – not so violent, but nonetheless effective). Leif’s moves had a real Taekwando flavour to them – very athletic. But lest you think I was PURELY wimpy, one of my powers was a VERY cool two-handed swooping move.

Without a doubt, we had a BLAST. Leif took the Gazillion Bubbles® Jumbo Bubble Machine home (I tried to be brave, but as the machine got farther and farther away, a single, noiseless tear trailed down my face).

Leif, Anders & Cousin Isaac Take on the Bubbles with WEAPONS
(At Janet and Erik’s house, DAMN THEM)

I told my Mom that we need to have a Jumbo Bubble Machine at our house. I stressed that it was VERY IMPORTANT to our health and well-being. Also, owning this apparatus is essential to our future as SCIENTISTS (what with the surface tension and such). I hope she grasps how serious this issue is.

Thanks, Jared and Nancy, for the picture. Credit is better than permission, yes?

I went to fetch Shirleen’s minute white dogs this evening because she and the kids have gone to the wilderness or a National Park or something (during which time she must wear an orthopedic corset THAT HAS ITS OWN CASE – many folks know how fond I am of containers, but that’s just going too far – but a she has to WEAR a foundation garment that IT’S OWN CASE – LIKE A GUITAR).

I decided to drive through Sonic (evidently “America’s Drive-In!”) to grab a bite and a gallon or so of caffeinated beverage. I chose Sonic because they believe in Happy Hour for CAFFEINE (not just caffeine, but I have my priorities). Perhaps I should have made a different choice tonight, as it was NOT Happy Hour.

It seemed like a very straightforward venture, but this is what happened: I drove up to the microphone and a male voice said, “Order when you’re ready.” The dogs were in the back seat making very gentle monkey-like “barky” noises, certainly nothing loud enough to interfere with microphone transmission. Nevertheless, when I said in my best “Secretary Voice” (long story – another time), “I’d like a ham, egg and cheese breakfast burrito,” I guess it didn’t carry very well. Oh yes – that’s another good thing about Sonic – breakfast ALL DAY. The guy said, “I couldn’t understand that.” I was a little surprised, I must say, because usually when you are inside a restaurant that has a drive-through the people making orders from their cars sound like they’re trying to be heard by an audience in a stadium without benefit of external amplification.

I repeated, “I’d like a ham, egg and cheese breakfast burrito.” This time he responded, “Breakfast frumlik rurfm schmufujm bacon eedooo pimentos.” I could SWEAR he said “pimentos.” Again, “I’d like an ham, egg and cheese breakfast burrito.” Then I decided to just continue with the order because by then I was using my very best and wonderful stage voice WITH SUPERB PROJECTION. So he began, “A Toaster sandwich with bacon and…” I stopped him. I PROJECTED VERY CLEARLY, “No, I want a breakfast BURRITO with ham, egg and cheese.” He started again, “Okay – a breakfast burrito with ham, egg and cheese plus bacon and an extra-large diet…”

“NO BACON,” I said firmly. Then, “I’m sorry,” I said, and I repeated the whole order again (see – I had to apologize so no one would spit in my food). There was a very, VERY long pause. Then I heard the glorious words, “A ham, egg and cheese burrito, an extra-large diet Coke with lime and a tropical yogurt and fruit smoothie.” The Hallelujah Chorus rang throughout all the world and I got my drinks (INUNDATED WITH BEVERAGES – it’s the best) and food and drove home with the wee chirping monkey dogs.

I sat down with the HAM, EGG AND CHEESE BREAKFAST BURRITO that I’d put on a plate with some salsa. I took a bite. Something was a little off… I took another bite – sausage. SAUSAGE, egg and cheese.

Is it peculiar that I felt slightly guilty at the prospect of eating ham during Passover even though I’m not Jewish? Come to think of it, I don’t think the sausage is sitting too well.

Yes, I am always behind – sometimes by five minutes, sometimes by a few months – sometimes by YEARS (my window for becoming a professional athlete is GONE, I tell you). But you know I try to make amends (whenever the hell I get around to it, anyway). I’m serious. I’m still planning an entry about the Christmas holidays.

First, I’ll go with the CUTE little baby picture that I should have posted two months ago:
Noelle Claire K.

Born January 17, 2007

Sorry, Pam. Oh – and I suppose I should apologize to EVERYONE for the fact that I never get permission to post pictures of them or their progeny or their pets – whatever tickles my fancy.

And here’s a whole BATCH of cuties! My cousin, John, had joked with me quite a while ago that ALL THREE of his sisters and his Mother AND his brother-in-law had been featured in my “On the Lee Side” link. I pointed out that whereas they all had blog(s) he did NOT. I did say, though, that he should send pictures of his cute boys and I would post those:

Alex, Benjamin, John & Tucker

AND A Complete Stranger in the Background (He’s cute & also very nice, I’m sure)

So, if I’ve retained any of my Aunt Mary Ellen’s superb clarification of the “removed” versus “first and/or second” and so on when pertaining to relatives, John’s children are my first cousins once removed.

I must say, even though I have a somewhat better understanding of the concept, thanks to Mary Ellen, I must ask: Who came up with “removed?” And who or what takes them? And to where? I would say that from these same sibling cousins of mine that their offspring (I’m sorry, but the other side of the family is SO BIG – let me rephrase that – there are so many – that I cannot even keep track of my COUSINS let alone their children. THAT DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T LOVE YOU, B-side!) that perhaps they are “removed” because they all live rather far away.

BUT, that whole theory is RUINED because I did meet Harper, first cousin once-removed of lovely cousin Jennette and her most charming husband, Tom. Does that make her unremoved? Perhaps that’s how you become ‘TWICE removed – as they went home after visiting. That reminds me – I’ve got to figure out the whole tiny video thing from my phone because I have footage of Harper.

Ah ha! Plunder from Jennette’s website! Pictures of Harper and Elena – I guess they were visiting the West Coast from the East (Elena is the daughter of my cousin Heather, a distinguished barrister, and her husband Ammon, a distinguished professor – AND THEY ARE DISGUSTINGLY YOUNG AND I HATE THEM. In a nice way). Actually, j’deteste all four of you – you YOUNG SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE (yes, you too, Erica, even though you are too young to have a house and children – other than kitten children – and to be a barrister or the like). But in a NICE way:

Harper & Elena Play

Elena & Pizza
Come on, Urbane Intellectuals-
Where’s the macrobiotic gruel?

Yes, every day (precisely at 7:00 p.m. MST) I STILL receive the “Fact of the Day” text message on my cell phone. I used to pay two or three cents EACH for this privilege, but I believe that the cost of these messages is now rolled into my cell phone texting package. It’s a good thing, because they repeat A LOT. If I receive that “mushroom collecting” message ONE MORE TIME I do believe I might just have to send the Fact of the Day people some “special” mushrooms – ALL OF THE LETHAL – and each one TOUCHING THE OTHER.

However, everyone once in a while I receive something choice; a bon mot that tickles my fancy, or something EXTREMELY informative. I have been saving three thematically-related FOTD’s for quite a while, now, and I feel ready to share them with you:

• Human skin has about 100,000 bacteria per square centimeter. 10% of human dry weight is due to bacteria.
• According to a recent study after 6 years of use, 30% of the weight of average bed pillow is made up of dead skin.
• Wearing headphones for just one hour increases the bacteria in your ears by 700 percent.

Bacteria and dead skin – HOW COOL IS THAT? Some people think that Kate the Safety Dog is germ-phobic. There are times I have been NECESSARILY germ-conscious, what with Sarah being immunocompressed and all, but I would not go so far as “phobic.” In fact, I find these particular bits of information most amusing – like eyelash bugs. Oh – and those little insects (I cannot affirm if they are or are not technically insects, but close enough) that eat the dead skin off your bed and keep you company during the long, lonely nights – I LOVE them!

Spiders, however, are WRETCHED and FILTHY and are promptly sentenced to death if they compromise the sacred perimeters of my bed. SHUDDER and a half. If I had a perilous swarm of flies or some other insect danger, I might appreciate the concept of arachnid intervention. BUT THIS IS NOT THE CASE; I have no jobs for them. And, ironically, as we have a surfeit of “hobo” spiders here, they can just pack up their wee web bags and skitter off TO THE GREAT OUTDOORS.

I have been horribly, TERRIBLY remiss. I have mentioned cancer many times and discussed those about whom I care who have been affected by this disease. I have talked about those we have lost, I have mentioned those for whom we have abiding hope and through it all I have completely neglected one of the most amazing cancer survivors I know.

She is my Aunt Linda. And she not only an inspirational survivor, she is one of the finest people I have ever met:

My Aunt Linda & Uncle Ralph
December 21, 2001

I may not have all the details of her cancer survival story correct, but I’ll do my best. I believe it started about twenty years ago, soon after Linda married my Uncle Ralph. They are such a wonderful couple and we were delighted that they found each other. Not long after the wedding, Linda was diagnosed with uterine cancer. She had a hysterectomy and radiation treatments. I cannot imagine what that was like; such a young, nurturing person having the possibility of bearing children taken away so suddenly.

But I have NEVER heard her gripe or bemoan her situation. In fact, my negligence in mentioning her incredible spirit and her embodiment of a survivor is due, in part, to the fact that she DOES NOT complain (not that this excuses me). I have only heard her mention her cancer treatment empathetically in order to comfort others. If she is troubled by something it takes a backseat to helping everyone else around her.

Instead of despairing and giving up, Linda and Ralph have enriched the lives of so many children. They served as loving foster parents for a number of troubled children. And, after the typically long journey and difficulty with the “system,” they adopted a son. For years they have given him such love, support and so many wonderful opportunities (a fact that is somewhat lost on him at the moment, but I believe very strongly that he will acknowledge someday).

Moreover, Linda is a nurse. She has overseen, with gentleness and compassion, the care of family members. She also serves as, I have no doubt, an “angel of mercy” at the State Mental Hospital. I have always maintained that it takes a very special individual to be a nurse. PERIOD. I think to be a nurse to the mentally ill must take twice or thrice the amazing patience and beneficence. I admire her more than I can say.

Linda is a person worth emulating in so many ways. She is like sunshine; when she visits she always walks into the door immediately radiating a kind and warm spirit. She is always ready to give a comforting and reassuring hug, a loving prayer (she and Uncle Ralph have a deep and abiding spirituality that they share in a generous yet thoughtful way with everyone they meet), a nonjudgmental listening ear and completely selfless expressions of love for everyone and everything.

I want her to know how highly I regard her and how much I love her. She is an incredible example of a humble and noble individual. Thank you, Aunt Linda, for all your sweet-tempered, bighearted encouragement. It is a gift to have you in my life!

I had been giving my Father a hard time about his “creative” financial practices, and said of a particular way of distributing funds, “It’s just all made up anyway.”

This was his response:

It’s not “made up,” it’s a matter of OPTIONS.

I shall remember this sage advice the next time something “legal” comes up in my life. Thanks Dad.

Huzzah! Since we can read memory cards again and access a USB port without getting behind the computer (Merci ad nauseum, Guru), it’s time for me to catch up. Hair-do’s first, naturally.

Sarah had her haircut for the first time in – let’s see – going on TWO YEARS! Okay, though losing it completely during that time period should probably count as a major haircut, I’m afraid you get no assistance from a stylist for that one.

Sarah was understandably hesitant for anyone to get near her lengthening tresses with SCISSORS or the like, but the general consensus was that she needed some SHAPE to her “do.” We all assured her it didn’t have to actually be shorter, but it would really benefit from some selective styling.

Besides, when given the chance, that girl’s hair grows like wildfire! She used to grow “fuzz” between chemo rounds and she NEVER lost very many of her disgustingly-long eyelashes or her eyebrows (as many do as a chemotherapy side-effect). And when her hair started growing out again (during radiation, as it was only her “mantle” region that was the target) it made alarming progress. And the CURLS! I’m not certain exactly where those came from. She had wavy hair (if I remember correctly) as a baby, but these are seriously curly CURLS. It’s possibly a side-effect from the chemo – hard to say.

Anyhoo, my Mom convinced her to go to an appointment with Janet’s special curly-hair stylist and get a “shaping trim” and some advice.

In case you’re wondering, after spending seven thousand years trying to get rid of a weird shadow by her lip (ever so unsuccessfully) I gave up and decided to be whimsically artsy instead. In other words, it ain’t pretense, it’s incompetency.

Of course she looks absolutely lovely. She looked good bald, too. Ah, the young and beautiful. This is the “straightened” version of her new coif – trÚs chic. And even she was pleased.

And as an FYI to those keeping track of these things, Sarah’s last quarterly scans where very good. She still has some bulky scar tissue (and may always), but there’s nothing cancerous therein. And forgive me for being maybe too personal (though isn’t that my privilege as an Aunt, Sarah?), but her ovaries were the only thing that “glowed.” She was assured that this is very good news and may bode well for her reproductive future. I think that’s wonderful.

P.S. Note to Will: Glowing ovaries do not denote any super-powers.