That was…interesting.

Another storm seemed to be blowing in. I was looking out my studio window, and couldn’t figure out the intense light I was seeing, so naturally, I went out. Winds were about 25mph when I stepped out, and were ramping up quickly. I found the intense light, and was laughing, because it kinda looked like a portal to another universe was cracking open. Sometimes, I can truly understand why religious people get such fucked up ideas. As I was clicking away, it dawned on me that winds were now about 40mph, and branches were whipping and cracking. Where I am, you’re surrounded by trees, every which way. As I’m making my way back home, broken bits of tree begin to fly. Made it safely back and indoors. The wind reminded me of the ones generated by a nearby tornado years back. The high winds have gone intermittent now, and the sunset is a lovely, lurid orange. The ‘portal’ is gone, but it was certainly worth seeing! Most photos behind the fold, because lots of them. Click for full size.

[Read more…]

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

One of the reasons that Jack and I started walking trails is because he’s allergic to grass. Walking on the stuff makes his feet itchy and he pick, pick, picks at them until they bleed. He takes allergy pills in the summer which help, but mostly we try to avoid the stuff once it starts to green up in the spring. That’s not easy when you live in a town where most everyone has a front lawn, so we took to adventuring on dirt paths and forested areas. Turns out we both love to traipse around and explore. We treasure hunt for stones and bones and pretty pictures. Sometimes we chat. Sometimes we sing, but mostly we just be together in companionable quiet. We’ve had so many wonderful times and it’s all because of those itchy feet.

A Case of Bad Timing.

This little gem arrived in the mail yesterday. Might be nice if they could put off the invite until I have officially and for sure survived cancer. I can only imagine what someone going through a relapse would feel, finding one of these in their mailbox. FFS, a little organization and thoughtfulness can go a long way. I can’t say I was any sort of impressed with it, and it shocked Rick, as his first thought was the same as mine: not yet a survivor, and we don’t need to be reminded of that one. Also in yesterday’s mail was a letter from Blue Cross, informing me that the Xeloda (Capecitabine) for my next phase of treatment had been approved, however, approval was not a guarantee of payment. That’s where they left it. I have a sinking feeling about this, that I’ll start, and then they’ll weasel out of payment. I don’t yet know what my dose will be, and while Capecitabine is on the relatively cheap end when you’re talking cytotoxins, it could still add up to thousands over 28 days. Cancerland, always full of surprises. <Insert near-fatal eyeroll here.>

© C. Ford.

Sure, Macramé Your Hair, Why Not?

I got distracted. Again. Seems my brain has been having a bit of a vacation too, I’ve been quite the space case lately. Anyroad, came upon these um, attachments? Extensions? Falls? (Does anyone else remember falls?) I’d love to have some of these done with my hair, if it ever achieves thickness again. These are from 1840. Click for full size!