by Christine | Life
This past weekend, the Hubby and I spent a few hours at Laguna Beach. We visited Vladimir Kush’s art gallery – he does lovely surrealistic glicee´s that all cost way too much for my wallet, but are lovely to look at (one of the little luxuries), so do please go look! We wandered around other galleries, too, and enjoyed the sun, the scent of the sea, and the joy of a beach town on a warm winter day.
At lunch, we hit up Ocean Avenue Brewery and had some craft beers and a fantastic lunch. Thus fortified, we went on to the boardwalk to take photos – of the sand, the beachgoers, the paddle boarders, and the ever-present pelicans. Needless to say, my pelican shots didn’t come out too good. The day was beautiful – warm, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. We walked, giggled, held hands, took photos and had a wonderful time, feeling it must be July and not January. After about three hours, we were ready to continue our journey south.
Our final destination was the Pelican Cove Inn Bed and Breakfast, in the village of Carlsbad. A lovely place, it’s more like an exclusive hotel than a typical B&B – private entrances to all the rooms; ours had a bath (SPA TUB!!! WOO!!!) and a shower, a queen-sized FEATHER bed with a net canopy overhead, a fireplace, a sitting area, a small dining area. I could easily see myself living there while frantically trying to finish up my 100th novel, lol…very much a big luxury. But – considering that the last time we were there to celebrate our life together just six days before I had brain surgery, well…lets just say, this time around we were relaxed, happy, and ready to enjoy the weekend.
When we got to our room, the same one we had the first time, it felt like home. Stretching out on that bed and realizing I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to – little luxury. Taking a spa tub before dinner, then again at six in the morning – little luxury. Stirring coffee over breakfast at the B&B (artichoke quiche, fresh melon, fresh croissant, boysenberry jam, orange juice…), another small luxury. (Usually we don’t have time to stir our cream into the coffee, it’s splash, pour, shove the travel lid on and go.)
Saturday night, we went back to Vigilucci’s Cucina, a fabulous Italian restaurant on State Street in Carlsbad. We had a lovely wine (which I’ll talk about later) with dinner – I had a fabulous ribeye steak in a gorgonzola-mushroom cream sauce…totally a big luxury! Hubby had wide egg noodles and seared scallops in a multi-mushroom medley sauce. Both dishes were fantastic – the night magical, as we sat outside and enjoyed the fresh air.
Dessert capped the night – three baby cannoli that we split. Oh my – truly a luxury!
Sunday after breakfast (already described, above) we went back to our room and lolled. I curled up in the feather bed and read some, hubby took a nap, played guitar, and finally encouraged me to get going. Even though our hostess Nancy said we didn’t have to leave at noon, we did end up checking out about then – which meant it was time for wine tasting at the Witch’s Winery (I think…I didn’t buy anything. What I liked was over priced…) and then finally, brunch at Vigilucci’s. Because we could, I guess…
At any rate, the eggs benedict was wonderful, the Bellini (usually champagne and chambord unless its a Peach Bellini) was just so so (champagne quality not the best) but the coffee and the ambiance, magnifico. We dawdled over breakfast, another little luxury, until finally it was time to leave. After a long, barefoot beach walk (another luxury!) and perusing some antique shops, and Hubby finding the washboard of his dreams, we finally loaded up the car and headed out of town, back to home and to the young men who didn’t even miss us – and the cat who did.
So we came back after our weekend of big and small luxuries physically tired but emotionally refreshed and relaxed. I didn’t read email, or write. Instead, I refilled my creative well at the hands of others’ creativity, truly a treat.
What are some of your favorite luxuries, big or small?
by Christine | Life, Observations
Today was the perfect gardening day. We headed out about 3pm, a bag of 65 bulbs in hand and trowels at the ready. Within 3 minutes, we realized we had a bigger problem – weeds.
Weeds, and the I-can’t-believe-I-planted-it-because-it-takes-over-the-whole-yard morning glory. The twice-damned vine was EVERYWHERE. In the apple tree. Twining around the berry bushes. Hiding behind the tomato pots in the weeds, and making plans for taking over the center of the yard. (Some of my tomato plants have wintered over…I ate a cherry tomato yesterday, fresh from the vine and bursting with flavor. Yum!)
Anyway – back to the weeds. Being the enterprising couple that we are, we roused our boys from their hermit-like hiding in their rooms, and put them to work. We have two “official” garden cans, and two cans we use to put the leftovers that we can’t stuff into the official cans. The boys (young men?) pitched in and filled both sets of cans while weeding out empty planting beds, and taking care of the weeds trying to hide the artichoke plants. (We’re up to six on artichoke plants, if anyone is keeping track.)
While waiting for the opportunity to plant, and to stay out of the guys’ way, I got the big clippers out and de-branched the christmas tree. The trunk now waits for one of the kids to saw it up, and the branches await the fireplace. Plus, the yard is a little bit cleaner.
Once the weeds were taken care of, we could plant. Out of the 65 bulbs, hubby planted probably 35. Don’t ask me what they were – I know he planted 10 purple Echinacea, but I don’t remember the other two…and of course, two of the three weren’t bulbs, they were rhizomes. The third was definitely a bulb, however. So all of the rhizomes got planted – but we’ve got 30 of the bulbs to still scatter. I’ll do my best to get them in the ground in the front this coming week…
The air was crisp, cool but not cold. The sky was impossibly blue, and the sun gentle on my face. Doing the work – weeding, planting, getting my fingers deep into the soil (which I did!) – was somehow life-affirming. Rejuvenating. Not to mention, damned good exercise. I didn’t get the writing done that I had wanted, but the time outside in the sunshine was very well spent.
SPEAKING OF WINE…(weren’t we?)
The other thing I did this weekend was to taste some Rieslings. I’ve got one more to go, but to my surprise I’m enjoying them. I thought they would be too sweet for me – but for sipping wine, they are spot on. I look forward to the discussion on them this week!
Another wine note – a winery contacted me and asked me if I’d like to taste and review a bottle of wine they’re just putting out – a new blend. After I picked my jaw up from the floor, I answered back but of course! And they have sent me a bottle of the wine, without me paying a dime. Very cool, what? Unfortunately I haven’t had time to taste it, what with this weekend being dedicated to tasting Riesling (thanks to Kathy Bennett, lol). However, I got to taste another wine on Friday that will go well review-wise with the donated bottle, so I look forward to bringing those thoughts to you.
Now, its almost time for dinner. The NY and San Francisco game is 17 to 17 with 30 seconds left in the game. JoePa has died. Hubby is gearing up for another week on Christian Slater’s new show, BREAKING IN, which also stars Megan Mullaly.
May your coming week hold love and laughter, and – as a dear friend of mine always says – “seek joy, y’all”. Seek joy, indeed!
~ Demon Soul is available for the Kindle and the Nook! Have you read it yet? ~
by Christine | Life, Writing
It’s been a strange day. My goal this year was to get DEMON HUNT off my plate and onto my editor’s plate by 1-15-12 – and I did it, as of about 9:20pm last night. The book that has been haunting me for the past year is out of my hands for the moment, and boy does that feel GOOD!
Today, I’ve been (between work projects, of course) wandering through my various and sundry flash drives, going through my writing history. I’ve got two pages of one book I’m DYING to read but, unfortunately, I haven’t written it. Bits and pieces of story ideas for Harlequin which haven’t been written. A high fantasy trilogy, also not written (but I’ve got TERRIFIC titles for those 3 books).
Then, I crossed paths with two books that were finished and had undergone extensive revision. Of course, that was before I knew what “extensive revision” really meant, but anyway. Two books. Finished. They need polishing; one is more of a romantic suspense (not too heavy on the suspense, though), with a young rock n’ roll heroine and an older hero; the other is – well, back in the day I’d call it chick lit, but not any longer. So I’ll just say it’s a humorous coming-of-age story about a 30-something female radio personality who trains for and runs a marathon for a reality TV show in the hopes of winning 2 million dollars.
They both have promise. They both need work. They were both, surprisingly, written in 2006. So, I think while I’m digging through Justin and Maggie’s story for DEMON LUST (title not in stone), I’ll take breaks and work on these other two books just for kicks. Though I really need to get back to that two-pager – wow, it was fascinating. I have a lot of world-building to do for that one, but that’s okay.
It is so cool to realize I’ve been doing this for eleven years. To realize that yes, I’m a writer. These stories have merit. They may not be ready for the big time yet, but they work. It’s thrilling, exciting, and so damned satisfying!!!
What fun stuff you can find when you go trolling through your flash drives (or closets, bookcases, dresser-drawers, boxes in your garage…can you tell I’m thinking about spring cleaning?!).
What have you found, lately, that you hadn’t seen in a very long time?
~ Have you read DEMON SOUL yet? If you have, drop me a line and let me know what you thought! ~
by Christine | Life, Uncategorized
Isn’t it beautiful? This is my Trevi Automatica by Spidem – a fully-automatic espresso machine that will also froth milk, give you hot water instantly for tea or hot chocolate, heck – it does everything except the dishes.
The Hubby and I went to Rome, Italy in February/March of 2004, and we fell in love with the espresso that we gulped down every morning (a perk that came with our tiny hotel room in Trastavere). We also fell in love with the city – its people, churches, winding streets, historical ruins, fountains, open squares and always, always amazing coffee to be found. (Not to mention the amazing food and wine!)
When we came home, we realized we’d settled for boring coffee for far too long. After intense online research and debate, we sent off for the Trevi Automatica by Spidem – all the way from Italy. It did everything – all we had to do was empty grinds, remember to feed it coffee beans and water, and clean it regularly.
This coming May, we’ll have had that wonderful, fabulous machine for eight years. Its showing age – the noise as it grinds beans may be higher-pitched than it used to be. The buttons may stick, now and then. Hubby has been diligent in taking the whole thing apart, cleaning it, and putting it back together; we both have neglected to toss the overflowing grounds bin at times (which causes problems). We will hang onto this amazing machine until it coughs its last; but then what?
I’ve never had a coffee maker last this long. I’ve never had a coffee maker that I’m SO attached to. You couldn’t pay me to go back to a 6-8-10 cup coffee maker. (The coffee at work is enough of a strain on my system!) And that one-cup machine, where you get the coffee pre-packaged (ground, or sludge, or whatever) and in whatever type you’d like (Dunkin Donuts, French Roast, hot chocolate, Chai) may be just fine on the set of a movie, but so not my style. There would always be that bunch of packets no one in the house would drink – and that translates to wasted money.
So what now?
I did some research – the Trevi Automatica is no longer imported. I guess the Italians decided to keep that yumminess to themselves and I don’t blame them. However…look what I found!!!
It’s called the Vienna Plus, by Saeco. It looks like the Trevi Automatica. It holds water and grinds beans and steams milk. All the buttons and gadgets are in the same place as for the Trevi – basically, it is the perfect copy of the Trevi . To my total shock, it costs about the same – maybe even less, since we’re not shipping it from Italy. How could we go wrong?
So, when the Trevi is ready for that machinery-bits-and-parts bin in the sky, we’ll know where to go to get our new coffee maker.
Fresh coffee, from fresh beans and water, brewed just for me. Okay, and for the Hubby. Life is good!
~ Have you read DEMON SOUL yet? If you have, drop me a line and let me know what you thought! ~
by Christine | Life, Observations
Happy Day 1 of 2012!
I’m not one for goals. I don’t do resolutions anymore. Why? I don’t want to feel like an abject failure when I look back, 12 months from now, to see my goals and resolutions as I had originally set them, not yet crossed-off my list.
I much prefer looking forward. So in that frame of mind, here’s what I’m looking forward to for 2012.
I look forward to an active, healthy life and lifestyle. I look forward to writing, and publishing several books. I look forward to hearing the plays I wrote read aloud this year.
I look forward to meeting new people and making new friends, whether in person or online; for I firmly believe you can never have too many friends. I look forward to opportunities to expand my knowledge – of myself, of writing, of the mysteries in the world.
I look forward to celebrating my friends’ successes and to watching my sons spread their wings. I look forward to laughing, and reading, and watching the fire in my hearth. I look forward to another year of a deepening love, one I couldn’t have imagined 35 years ago.
And I’m really looking forward to dealing with whatever life decides to dish out to me this year. Now, to begin my year on a solid note, I shall go for a jog. And when I return, I shall make healthy pancakes for the family.
Happy New Year. Sending much love and many hugs from my home to yours. What are you looking forward to this year?
by Christine | Life
This is more for me – a need to get this out and on the page. You see, it’s an anniversary of sorts. A year ago on December 16, at this very hour that I write this, 5:30pm, I was still in surgery for removal of an acoustic neuroma.
But let me back up. During the 4th of July weekend in 2010, I worked a music teacher’s convention with a friend of mine, selling sheet music to whoever wanted to buy some. We were at the Marriott near the airport, in a huge ballroom with a hundred other vendors. Setting up, I kept getting dizzy and feeling nauseous. I brushed aside the feeling though, as I had too much to do, opening dozens of boxes and sorting through hundreds of pieces of sheet music. Going home that night gave me another jolt – my vision tunnelled a couple of times. It was late at night, I told myself. I was tired. I just needed to concentrate harder on driving.
The next day the head-spinning got worse. As people wandered around, the noise and the bobbing heads made me ill. A part of me thought – vertigo – well, I can handle that. Anyway, it was a difficult weekend but I got through it. My symptoms seemed to go away and I forgot about it – until Hubby and I started walking again during the long summer evenings. We found I kept veering off to my right and stumbling. He finally had to walk on my right side. That’s when I sat him down and said, look, there’s something wrong. I don’t know what it is and it’s probably nothing, but I think I need to see a doctor and figure this out.
One doctor led to another, which lead to my neuro-otologist, Dr. Akira Ishiyama, who just happens to teach that specialty at UCLA. One of the top dogs. HE will only work with one neurosurgeon, because this neurosurgeon will take the time to do the work with impeccable precison rather than speed. That neurosurgeon just happened to be the Chief of Neurosurgery at UCLA, Dr. Neil Martin. I had the gold standard surgical team. Which brings me back to the day of surgery.
It was a strange, lost day. I had trouble sleeping the night before; knowing someone is about to wiggle their fingers around in your brain isn’t exactly a soporific thought. But finally the alarm rang. We got up and dressed at o-dark-thirty, made it to UCLA hospital by 5am and filled out some minimal paperwork – most of it had already been done. Then we waited in a large waiting room filled with other people waiting to go into surgery for various and sundry reasons. All ages were represented; children sleeping on the chairs, couples in their 80’s, and everyone in-between.
The hubby was wigged, and doing his best not to show it. I played games on my iPod Touch, too restless to read. Finally my name was called and I joined the line. We were all processed – a nurse took each of us away, behind a door and then another door to a cubicle of a room with a bed and a chair and not much else. I undressed, put on their lovely gowns, kept my socks on, and waited, and listened to other surgical patients as they got ready and talked to the people that brought them.
My Neuro-otologist surgeon came by, and put his initials on the side of my head. My surgery was scheduled for 8am, but I could see my Neurosurgeon walking around in a suit – running late. He had charts to dictate or he’d get in trouble with someone. Finally they came in, put an IV in my left hand; the Head of the Anesthesia department came in to check on me, and tell me she’d be there during the whole surgery.
My Neurologist’s Chief Resident came by a couple times and assured me it wouldn’t be long. And then the wait was over – they wheeled me out of the cubicle, I waved to my husband with a smile, and they popped something into my vein and I was out.
Then I was back in. Amazing – I felt really good. Like no time at all had passed. Which – drat – it hadn’t. I had been out and my two surgeons had been looking at my last MRI, taken just two days before. They decided to go in through my Eustachian tube, instead of through my skull. Which meant a couple of things; they wouldn’t be cutting my skull open (YAY), and they would obliterate all the hearing facility in my Eustachian tube, thusly taking out all my hearing in my right ear (boo). And a bonus; they’d be pulling fat from my belly and sticking it into my head. Um, okay – but couldn’t they have taken more, while they were in there? But the changes meant I had to be mentally competent to say “yes” and scrawl my name. Which I did.
Both surgeons came and talked to me during this time; I did some joking around with them. Just so they would know that I’m a real person, not just an acoustic neuroma they were removing. The patient is not the procedure. But as soon as I signed off on it, they put me back under and I floated away.
Meanwhile, Hubby had been walking in the UCLA sculpture gardens when he got the call about the change in plans; he tried to get back to see me while I was still awake, but didn’t make it. He was going through a rough time; twice in his life, he changed on a dime, and both times it was due to something traumatic happening – once when a friend died in front of him. Worried that I might not make it, he was trying to figure out who and what he would be. Luckily I made it, so he’s stuck with me, lol!
The next time I woke up, I was already in ICU. This time, I knew I’d been through something. I had intravenous feeds on both sides of each hand (that’s four); one in the side of my neck, in case of extreme emergencies; and one in my ankle, just in case. A tight bandage around my head, heart monitor thingies and a catheter completed my medical equipment ensemble.
Ice chips brought on nausea. I felt brittle, parts of me were sore from being in the same position for so long. The time? Hubby says close to 10 pm. I’d actually been in surgery for 11 hours. Hubby kept our friends updated via text messages every time he heard. He was allowed to see me in ICU; his eyes were so worried, until he touched my right cheek, and I smiled. My whole face smiled, and he grinned at me. I was maybe a little weak on the right side, but all functionality was there. My surgeons had done what they said they would do from the very beginning; take out as much of the tumor as possible while keeping as much of the facial nerve intact as possible. Here’s a couple pictures of my staples, taken the day after surgery when they finally released me from the head torture. Note the two places where the docs put their initials (the higher place was the original entry site):
I was in the hospital a total of 4 whole days; they discharged me on the 5th day. The 20th of December, five days before Christmas, I was home. And my recovery began. The next few days, I found tape residue on the strangest parts of my body, which really made me wonder.
It’s been an odd year. My balance, that had gone missing in the months prior to surgery, didn’t all of a sudden come back; when I went to see my neuro-otologist, he said (it had been nine months) that now I was ready for rehab therapy. Um – it would have been nice to know it would take that long! But I went, and I’m better.
Mentally, I was squirmy for a long time. Writing has been difficult for me, and I’m grateful my publishing house is understanding. Even now I feel like, while I’m finally at about 90% of where I was prior to surgery, I’m not totally back. I may never get back. But that’s okay – I’m learning to deal with it. With the mental squirmies and with the wobbly balance. It doesn’t happen often, either the squirmies or the wobblies; when it does, I just have to laugh.
The above picture is three days after surgery – I didn’t feel “me” until I got my hands on the keyboard again. That’s the view out of my room at UCLA Hospital.
So; it’s been a year. I’ve found patience (especially after breaking my leg). I have gotten some amazing writing done this past month or so; plays. Writing I’m very proud of. The novel is almost done as well, and I’ll be turning it in soon. The job has been the final blessing of the year – it’s brought me back to being more “me”. That’s the only way I can describe it.
Above all, I have my husband, my hippy-guitar-jester guy who loves me, treasures me, and is there by my side, always, ready with a steadying hand. I know I could have gotten through this year without him; but I am so very, very grateful I didn’t have to.
I know I’ve been lucky, all down the line. Top notch doctors; excellent nursing care, both at the hospital and at home; awesome insurance; a loving family, friends who helped out. Most of all, the tumor hasn’t grown back. Plus my scar is small, and you can’t see it unless I show it to you. I’ve been very, very lucky.
But still, I feel my life has been divided. Before acoustic neuroma diagnosis and surgery, and after. It’s not something you have, and then forget about. It’s a game changer, for sure.
As I read over this, I realize I’m leaving a lot of “stuff” out. But if I put everything in, this would be a novel, so…
