BOB'S IN THE PAPER - AGAIN.

We are so so lucky and blessed to be recognized as much as we are and it 's really neat that someone takes notice to all the great things going on in this town in the last few years AND that we get to be a part of it!  So here Bob is again, doing his thing: music, theatre, etc.

Artists Can Polish Their Work at the Salon

WE GOT OUR JOHN DEERE HATS!

Yessiree!  We did!  After the purchase of our John Deere tractor, we received a survey in the mail.  After filling out this survey and returning it to John Deere, they stated they would send us a John Deere hat of our choice for free as compensation for our time. I like free stuff. So I filled out the survey. And since Bob already got a hat at the dealership when we purchased the tractor, I decided I needed one too.  However, John Deere is stereotypical in their understanding of men and women and assume that a women should were pink. Men green, women pink.

 I haven't worn pink, ever.

My main reasoning for this is just because of this concept of gender sterotypes. Blue for boys, pink for girls.  I used to dress my girls in the most vibrant, splashy bright colors I could, never pink and never pastels.  Down with gender bias! Ugh!

But… I didn't want the same hat as Bob, I had to be different, so maybe now I'll wear pink.  But only when I am driving the tractor!  Well, maybe only in the summer, because it will clash with my new purple Carhardtt jacket.

So here's my new hat:

It super cool, it says, "Owners Edition" on the brim.















Bob's doesn't.

And here they are side by side.  Mine is still pink.  Bob's is still green.

and here's the best part - mine has their tagline on the back, "Nothing runs like a deere."

I win!!  Even if I have to wear pink.

BASSET EVIL

The other day I was enjoying my leftover spareribs (recipe not posted yet) when the dogs had surrounded me in the usual beggin' position. Now, mind you.  In spite of their powerful pleading,  that is the basset specialty, I knew that I would not and could not give them the tasty, succulent treat they desired, spare rib bones are not safe to give dogs.  However in the basset world the mere idea of a bone, the concept of a bone, the Aristotelian  model of a bone can lead to madness and chaos, the fogging of the basset brain.  Louie's eyes glazed over, with spare rib bone lust, the drool slowly hung from her jowl in a long stream of glistening siliva. Before I knew it - she snapped!  Literally and figuratively.  A tussle broke out and the fur was flying.  Heroically, Bob ran from the other room and grabbed the rump of Louie and I had the back end of Percy and we pulled them apart.  We knew little of the extent of the damages until later in the evening, at bedtime, when the dogs joined us as we snuggled under the covers, that the true damage was exposed.  Percy was perforated in the face!

Evil, Louie, bad Louie.  Poor Percy!  How can just the notion of food turn an otherwise pleasant and passive, stinky smelling hound into a crazed, blood thirsty, psychopathic killer?

No worries, Percy is healing well and is on the road to recovery.  I spent several times cleaning it with peroxide and putting iodine on it.  She's looking better every today.

Louie says she's innocent.  She can't take blame for when food takes over her psyche.

MERRY CHRISTMAS DAY 2012

Ha!  It was a wonderful day, in spite of not having my baby girl, Madison here.  She's living in L.A. now and had no money to come back home for Christmas.  Waaahhhhh!  But lucky for me, Sam came over for Bob's birthday on Christmas eve and stayed the night, so she was here in the morning, just like the old days!  That made me very happy! : )

This was the start of Christmas morning:  an asiago bagel with artichoke and spinach cream cheese ( a new find) onions and cucumbers. Nummy!  and a real treat for me since I don't eat much bread anymore.

NO!  I do not have too many cats!!!

So all the animals got their special treat:  the pig - a whole apple

the cats - cans of cat food

The horses:  extra hay

 Edy got one of those smart toys that you put treats into and they have to move the little nobs around to find the treats.  She figured it out right away, of course!
Percy and Louie got a bone that they immediately unwrapped.  Edy got one too.

This was my pile, which included this really cool coffee mug:

it's even purple too!  (I now it looks black here but trust me it's purple)

and my new awesomest Carhardt Jacket!  Now I'll really look cool riding the tractor!

Here's Sam's pile!

and here's Bob's!  See that Life Is Good shirt?  It has Bob on it, with a dog and a cup of coffee and a barcolounger.  Which is Bob.

Then Edy had a moment of selfishness and rage:

 Louie got too close to her bone.  Although Louie denied the whole thing!  Look at that innocent face!

I'm warning you!

I'll eat you alive!

So Louie went and hid by grandpa.

 Cashew's first Christmas!  Not quite sure what's going on.

 We offered Edy some food and water because guarding your bone from the evil Louie can be tiresome.

The carnage!

And then it was over.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBY!

Yes, he's a Christmas eve baby, poor guy, must've been rough growing up and having to celebrate your birthday at a time when others are celebrating Christmas, not you.  So I've done some mighty nice things for the boy over the years and most were surprise birthday parties.

But what I do every year is bake his favorite cake: red velvet!  I used to bake it from scratch, cuz I couldn't find it in a box… that is until now!  Yeehaa!  although homemade is my way to go for the most part of life, Christmas time is a pretty busy part of the year and a box cake sounds pretty easy to me and it was.

So here ya go - my version of the red velvet box cake:

First the cast of characters:

I replaced the oil with applesauce, not because it cuts fat and calories (well sort of) but because I have found that cake tastes moister with it instead of oil.  And I added another tub of frosting because they never give you enough frosting, you can never have enough frosting. Period.

Next add 2 eggs, 1/4 cup applesauce and 2/3 cup water. Although the cake mix looks like a chocolate cake mix when coming out of the bag, as soon as the wet ingredients hit it, it turns bright red!  My fill of F D & C Red 40 for a lifetime.

I rubbed crisco on the inside of the pans and then put some flour inside and coated the pans so the cake wouldn't stick to the pans.  Old trick.

I mixed it all together and poured it into three pans.  I like a good three-layer cake for the boy.  Plus that's another layer of frosting which is necessary.

be sure to lick the bowl.  Not very often one gets to lick the bowl so I highly recommend it!

Then take a look at how red your tongue is from all the food coloring.

Put pans into a 350 degree oven and bake for 20 minutes.

Soften 1 stick of butter and beat until creamy.

add the packet of frosting mix and beat slowly adding 4 tablespoons of water as you go until it is the right consistency.

Put frosting into supplied pastry bag.

cut the end off and to make it into a start cut two triangles out.  Will make your outer frosting prettier.

Remove cake from pans when done and let cool.

Frost the first layer, then put on the second layer.  Be sure to add lots of frosting here.

top with third layer.

Then get out that pastry bag and start frosting the top and sides.

when is looks all pretty (ok, I don't excel at cake decorating - sorry), put a candle in it for the birthday boy!

and don't leave the room for a second - or the cats will try the frosting.  See?  this is why you need lots of extra frosting! It's precautionary.

I FEEL LIKE A FLEA BITTEN ENERGIZER BUNNY ON MESCALINE

When Katie Couric did her colonoscopy live on the air in 2000 (OMG!  that seems like yesterday!) it took the world by storm and thus the people listened and she helped increased public awareness of colon cancer screening, and the rate at which the country went for having their own colonoscopies.This has since been referred to as the Katie Couric Effect.

Now - I'm gonna share my story of the past few weeks and the results of my first mammogram.  I am a humble person and don't like to brag or toot my own horn, but if this leads to some "Dawn Sanborn Effect" of having people go and get their mammogram done, then I'm ok with that.

and I also will leave you with the full disclosure that, although I was there in person, I was not witness to most of the graphic nature of the procedures and cannot write the full details of such, but I would not share this post with anyone under the age of 13 or the queasy, just for safety's sake and the sake that you might have to clean up after they puke.

I also will refer to my right breast as my boob.  It sounds better. And less intimidating.

And a big thanks to two of my good friends Laura and Jody.  I really am grateful for these women in my life.  I had my friend Laura drive me to the biopsy and my friend Jody to the surgery. What should've been some scary days were really a great time!  Laura and I enjoyed the night off that night with wine and a good movie and Jody and I laughed the whole time, picking on the hospital personal.

My friend Laura D'Ambrosio agreed to take me to the biopsy, not because it was that challenging and I needed a driver but because it's always good to have someone that 's been through the same thing and can just be a good shoulder to lean on. 

My friend Jody Brown, author of the book, Upside Down Kingdom, agreed to be my driver for the day of the surgery.  Luckily she was available and was kind enough to take me.  Not something you can ask of most people.  She arrived on time and I was just about ready, I just had one final thing to do before all this went down, because when you know you will not be coherent for a day or two you have to take care of a few things before you leave.  So i just had to turn on the vacation reply for my business email, "Believe it or not - I'm taking a vacation!   So I'll be returning emails after Christmas.  Happy holidays! (small fibs are ok in this situation, better then 'I'm having boob surgery')."  Then I was ready to go.

So here we go -   let's go back and start out with day one, my first mammogram:

I made a statement on Facebook that it must've been a man that created the mammogram machine because if men were put through the vice grip they call a mammogram machine to check for testicular cancer, it would be changed immediately!  Just sayin'.  Imagine if you will… a large vice, that you insert your boob into, it closes tightly around your boob and then an x-ray is performed, then your boob is released.  Not too bad, but for testicles… I don't think any man would tolerate it for one second let alone the full 20-30 seconds us women have to, two to three times, each boob.

Although I do admit, the mammogram machines at Olmsted Medical Center are state of the art.  They play soft music while the machine displays pleasant lights changing from green to purple to blue to yellow to orange to red and then back to green again.  Kinda like a rainbow - but in the wrong order.  Obviously, the engineer didn't take art classes or understands the color wheel (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple - should be the order), or has never really looked at a rainbow. Nonetheless, they tried really hard to make it comfortable, at least in your mind.

All went well and I waited for the results, with a fair warning: that because this was my first one, most likely I would be called in again for another mammogram because they had no 'reference' to refer back to from a previous exam.  So I waited.

Which led to the phone call for another mammogram:

I was asked to schedule another one because they might need an ultrasound to see something more definitive.  So I went back in and had my boobs squashed in the vice again.  This time followed by an ultrasound.

Which lead to the biopsy:

They found something they wanted to investigate further.  Two lumps that they said were most likely nothing to worry about, it's just that they used to play the 'wait and see' game and have you come back in 6 months but now they say they just go ahead and have a biopsy done to make sure. The biopsy consists of you laying on your side while a Dr. sends this drill into your boob that takes out a tissue sample.  Yes, a drill, at least that's what it sounded like. Followed by a hammer strike.  BZZZZZZZ, bang!  BZZZZZZZ bang!  16 times!  for each tumor.  Yeah, that was fun. But really painless, except for the local.  Did anyone ever tell you that the soft tissue on the side of your boob is really sensitive to needles?  Well, it is.  

Which lead to the conclusion, after days of testing that it was a benign tumor.  I had the choice to wait and see what happens or to have it removed.  I said, "Let's do it."  I don't mind having anything being taken out, but I do mind having something removed from my body.

Which lead to pre-surgery wire inserts:

So I was scheduled to have the out-patient surgery a week later.  I chose a few days before Christmas because I like doing things like this over the holidays.  Like the time I got a hysterectomy on New Year's eve.  What can I say?  I don't like going out on New Year's anyways, what better way to spend the evening then to be in a hospital bed with a morphine drip ready and waiting for you at the touch of a button? Much better then jello shots.

My time was scheduled and I was told to go to the clinic to have the wire inserts done and then after that, head on over to the hospital to have the two lumps removed. Seemed simple enough.

We arrived a few minutes early and checked in to Mammography. Jody and I shot the shit and talked about how i should've gotten pasties to put on my nipples and really surprise the doctor, but it was too late for that.  

I also should always remember that when they tell you to 'arrive' at a certain time that your actual appointment is 15 minutes later. And considering that most likely you will be waiting anyway… I usually don't arrive until right AT the appointment time or shortly there after.  But for some reason, I was extremely punctual this time - I'll blame Jody.  So after a half hour of waiting and the fact that I have not eaten anything for nearly 18 hours (which can cause moments of bitchiness and rants of rage from someone like me that normally eats something every couple of hours), I was getting a little anxious. I approached the counter and in my Susie homemaker voice I tried, "I've been waiting a half hour, what's goin' on?  Any news?"

"They are just running a tad late with the other appointments," the nurse said, "I'll go check in with them."

Within two minutes they were escorting me to the back changing rooms. (I was nice - I really was!)

I changed and went into the ultrasound room.

Wire inserts  are done to make sure that the actual tissue to be removed is marked clearly and is basically done by inserting a large needle into the area near the tumor and a wire is threaded through and around the tumor.  Now, I have been given a Novocain injection at the point of insertion but this only numbs the pain, I still can feel the wire, the pulling and pushing and insertion into my boob. After twenty or so minutes of pushing and pulling of wires, there was a pause and I asked, "Was that it or was that just the first one???"  I had two lumps to be wired up, they laughed and said they had just finished the first one.  "It's a very delicate procedure."  Yeah, tell that to my boob. And mind you of this:  my arm is above my head, burning from the pain of holding your arm over your head for twenty minutes and still not being able to move, because any movement when there is a large needle and wires being sent through your boob, is not a good idea, risky really. So let's just say, along with the fact that it's been nearly 19 hours since I have eaten or drank anything….I'm feeling, well, ready for this to be over.

While lying on the table, two things you really do NOT want to hear from the doctor are: "I'm sorry, I am close to your nipple,"  or "these wires are so small they keep bending."  Just sayin.

At the end of the procedure, they left a good 8 inches of wire, which when I looked at it was nothing more then something that resembled a 25 lb test fishing line.  The nurse explained that, although the ends were not sharp, she would be taping the ends and then taping them down against my body.  Now - imagine if you will - two 8" long pieces of wire jetting out of you boob and flapping back and forth with what literally looked like white flags at the end, a sign of surrender.  And then it made me think of Jody's comment about the pasties.  I had to share with my nurses.  I'm good at keeping myself laughing when there are two surrender flags waving from your boob.

The nurse informs me not to put my bra back on because of the bandage so I ask for a bag in which to carry it in.  I really didn't want to be walking around the clinic carrying it on me, some people may take offense to it or inquire about the large object I am holding in my hands and I didn't really want to answer that question. She hands me a rather large size brown paper bag and as I exit the changing room I shove my tank top and bra in it, fold over the top and head on out to the lobby where Jody is patiently waiting for me.

Next comes the surgery:

On the way over the hospital, Jody inquires about the paper bag.  I tell her that the nurse gave it to me to hold my bra in.  Jody says, "Wow, that's a big bag there, they could've given me a little sandwich bag to carry mine in."

Jody took the liberty of making an example out of my bra

As we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, I was concerned about time because Jody had a meeting at 3 and had to go to work at 5 and it was getting later and later and taking longer then I thought it would. I told her to make sure she brought my bra into the hospital if she ended up having to leave me there (my daughter Sam was available to come and pick me up if needed).  Jody calmly stated, "Yes, I sure will because I'm positive my Jeep would get terrible gas milage with that thing hanging out in there."  Which could possibly be true.

We walked up to the admissions counter and I told them my name and birthdate. Which is hospital protocol, they ask you your name and date of birth 80 million times when you go there.  No kidding, 80 million. Then I introduced Jody to the clerk, "This here is Jody Brown, she's an author, you should buy her book!"  Jody told the gentleman I was on drugs and should be ignored.  However I pointed out that that was not true, all I had was Novocain and that would not impair my judgment. The desk clerk did ask for her card though.

Yep.

We went to the second floor and I got admitted for surgery. I was taken to my room and instructed on how to put on this real fancy purple gown that has a hose that runs to it that provides warm air so you don't get all cold waiting in those little flimsy gowns all naked and stuff.  

They are called BairPaws.  They have little bear paw prints on the front.

When I texted Laura this picture she asked if I was sure I was at the right hospital.

I talked with the nurses and they asked my name and date of birth again, for the 80,000,001 time, and they also asked which boob and what I was having done to it.  I felt that getting them all messed up and telling it was the left one not the right, but I don't think that would go over very well.  They also asked if I had someone here waiting with me when I was done.  I told them about Jody Brown, the author.  They got all excited because their was a celebrity in their mist and said they would be going out to the lobby and asking for Jody - the author, instead of Jody Brown.  Jody got to hand out a couple more business cards.  See?  I am such a good friend, bet I made her a couple more sales this week and all she had to do was spend her entire day hauling my old butt back and forth to the hospital.

After the IV was put in, it didn't seem to want to work real well.  So they kept slightly pulling it out and pulling it back in and flushing it with saline solution.  Yeah, that was fun.  Mind you it was now about 20 hours or so without food and water, and I kept trying to remind them that people will die after 48 hours without water.  When the anesthesiologist came in, I tried that line on him and he immediately said, "Oh I can help you with that and returned with a teeny tiny class of water and a sponge….on a stick.  Yes, a sponge…on a stick.  "You can get that wet and suck on it all you want."  I told him it reminded me of the vinegar in a sponge they gave Jesus while he was hanging on the cross.  That didn't work for him, it wasn't going to work for me. Period.

Then came the waiting game.  I was late getting to the hospital because they were late at the clinic with the wire tap to my boob, so I was put at the end of the line for surgery.  My gurney was in queue. So we waited.  Not very long and I had the great idea to check in on Facebook that I was at the hospital.  That should get some response, right?  Not really.  We just ended up saying Jody had a baby, that's all.

This older nurse finally came to get me and asked me my name and birthdate again, and I said, "Well, last I remember it was Dawn Sanborn."  This nurse obviously didn't appreciate my sense of humor and started questioning me.  'I'm just kidding!"  Gosh! Really people. 

Stylish hair accessories

away I go!

A couple hours later all was taken care of and I was getting dressed.  Easy smeezy.  I told them earlier that if all they had waiting for me at the end of the line was jello, I would be very disappointed, so they gave me pudding.  Jody gave me a cookie. Thank goodness for Jody.


Jody had to get going so my daughter Sam was called in to take me home.  I think I was a little dizzy but not much.  My body seems to tolerate anesthesia pretty well.

I got home and my wonderful hubby had taken care of all those chores and was waiting for me with a beautiful poinsettia!  What a guy! After a big kiss and the news that all was ok, I went and got into my comfy's and proclaimed, "I need a Newt's burger!"  Mind you it's been nearly 24 hours since I have eaten anything. Well anything that resembled real food.  Not good.  Bob asked Sam if she would go pick that up for me and get one for him too.  Which she did and surprise!, she also stopped and got me some hot wings!  Ok, fine, I know these are things one should never really eat and I normally don't, but please!  I have been through a lot!  I deserved it!  I did.

Newt's Marvins Burger - bacon, cheese and chipotle mayo - nummy!

B-dub's hot wings!

Well, over all it was not so bad.  I sit here a day later and I feel fine, Tylenol with codeine is a beautiful thing. It makes ya feel real good.  Except for the fact that I am one of those lucky ones that it causes itchiness.  It also causes the complete opposite effect then most people on me - I get energized!  So now I feel like the Energizer Bunny on mescaline, a flea bitten Energizer Bunny on mescaline!

Now after all this, can we honestly say - you really should go and get your mammogram done every other year.  It's not a bad experience, really, it's not.  Really. The Dawn Sanborn effect should happen now, I'm sure.

Well wishes from our friend Ellen