I am very actively and deliberately doing happy this week. Watched "The Little Vampire" tonight with our little vampires, eating frozen pizza and roasted green beans. (No, I'm not crazy. Recipe is below. You MUST try the green beans.)
Anne has me thinking about Christmas. Before All of This, I was a major Christmas lover. Two Christmas trees, everyone to our house, stockings, roast beast, all of it. Christmas Eve was tamales and me playing guitar while we sang those traditional songs like "Please Daddy Don't Get Drunk This Christmas" and "Merry Christmas from the Family" and "God Bless You, Unitarians." Well, traditional for us.
The emphasis on happy this weekend is because Little Warrior gets an MRI of her abdomen on Monday. This is her three month check. A biggie. Tuesday morning, we meet with the doctor and find out the results.
Tuesday evening, if all goes well, I send out invitations to our annual Halloween party. Wednesday, if all went well, I begin cooking and freezing canapes. Thursday, if all went well, I'll go to the "party store" to start laying in supplies.
If all goes well, LW won't get another scan til January. After the holidays.
If all goes well, can you imagine how insanely wild I'm going to be at Christmas? I will be the crazy lady with the wreath on her car, wearing the light-up Santa Claus sweater.
(That's hyperbole, Peacebang ... I promise ...)
Oh, God. Please. Please. Let it all go well.
--
Roasted green beans
Get about a pound of fresh green beans from the grocery. Pinch off the stem ends and put in a foil-lined cake or cookie pan. Toss with about a tablespoon of oil and plenty salt. Roast at 450 for 20 minutes. Stir/flip the beans. Back in the oven for about 15-20 more minutes. By now, they're shriveled and brown in places. Per my son, "Wow! How can green beans taste like french fries?"
Friday, October 13, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Choosing "Happy"
I haven't blogged in several days, not because things are bad, but because they are good and I've needed some time to gather my thoughts.
My trip to Corpus was terrific and provided just what I needed. I sat, looked at the waves, talked with The Husband and how All Of This has changed us and just let go.
Cried. Thought. Sat. Talked.
And as I walked away from the shoreline, I was given my gift. A quick moment of clarity.
First, some history from long ago.
Lizard Eater was about 12 years old. She walked into one of her middle school classes, dramatically dropped her books next to her friend Marla and announced, "I'm mad."
Drily, Marla said, "You're always mad."
Eureka! Aha! Kaboom!
Three little words but they changed me. At 12 years old, I realized that gee, I don't want to be known as the person who is always mad. People don't enjoy being around someone who is always mad. And people don't take you seriously when you're genuinely mad, if you're mad all the time.
In my little Judy Blume diary, I wrote, "That's it. I'm changing. I'm going to be known as 'the happy person' from now on."
Fast forward.
Walking away from the shoreline, I had the thought ... I can be happy for my children's sake. Their lives will be better if I'm happy. It will affect who they are.
This is perhaps very obvious to many of you, but to me, something new. To be happy is, in this case, to be NOT selfish. Or as Willy Wonka would say, "Strike that. Reverse it."
Now, I'm not talking about denying true feelings. I'm not talking about being ooooh so sweet and pretending to be happy. I'm talking about saying, okay, if I *can* be happy, I'm gonna be.
Last spring, I couldn't have been.
The future ... well, who knows.
But now. Right now, today, I can be happy.
So when I can be, I will be.
My trip to Corpus was terrific and provided just what I needed. I sat, looked at the waves, talked with The Husband and how All Of This has changed us and just let go.
Cried. Thought. Sat. Talked.
And as I walked away from the shoreline, I was given my gift. A quick moment of clarity.
First, some history from long ago.
Lizard Eater was about 12 years old. She walked into one of her middle school classes, dramatically dropped her books next to her friend Marla and announced, "I'm mad."
Drily, Marla said, "You're always mad."
Eureka! Aha! Kaboom!
Three little words but they changed me. At 12 years old, I realized that gee, I don't want to be known as the person who is always mad. People don't enjoy being around someone who is always mad. And people don't take you seriously when you're genuinely mad, if you're mad all the time.
In my little Judy Blume diary, I wrote, "That's it. I'm changing. I'm going to be known as 'the happy person' from now on."
Fast forward.
Walking away from the shoreline, I had the thought ... I can be happy for my children's sake. Their lives will be better if I'm happy. It will affect who they are.
This is perhaps very obvious to many of you, but to me, something new. To be happy is, in this case, to be NOT selfish. Or as Willy Wonka would say, "Strike that. Reverse it."
Now, I'm not talking about denying true feelings. I'm not talking about being ooooh so sweet and pretending to be happy. I'm talking about saying, okay, if I *can* be happy, I'm gonna be.
Last spring, I couldn't have been.
The future ... well, who knows.
But now. Right now, today, I can be happy.
So when I can be, I will be.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Halloween Costume Ideas
Every year, we have an all-ages Halloween party. It's not a party for kids, but kids are invited to come with their parents, if you know what I mean.
So, since Anne needs help coming up with a Halloween costume, some of the more creative ones we've had come through -- or done ourselves:
Last year, I wore a white shirt, with a big yellow circle attached to it, and some devil horns.
I was a deviled egg.
A friend of mine attached sponges all over herself. She was "self-absorbed." Same friend, another year, attached mini cereal boxes all over her and carried a machete. Yes. A serial killer.
Let's see, then there was the year I rubbed some black under one eye and wore a giant "P" on my chest.
Black-eyed pea.
As you may be picking up on, I am usually too busy planning a party and cooking to give much attention to my costume. This year is different. The Husband and I have already purchased the main parts of our costumes.
The last time we put a lot of effort into our costumes was a coupla years ago. I was pregnant with LW, and needed a costume with a little give. So I went as Sita and he went as Ram (Hindu god). I had on a gorgeous sari and all the gems around my eyes. He had an Indian tunic and we painted him blue.
Everyone thought he was supposed to be a member of Blue Man group.
This year, we go as another famous couple. More on that later.
And all of this ... the party is October 28. LW's big MRI is Oct. 16. We sit down with the doctor to go over the results Oct. 17.
So, everything might be canceled alluvasudden. But hopefully it won't be. I work with that in mind.
Oh, and hey ... got any absolutely to-die-for party recipes? Send 'em on!
So, since Anne needs help coming up with a Halloween costume, some of the more creative ones we've had come through -- or done ourselves:
Last year, I wore a white shirt, with a big yellow circle attached to it, and some devil horns.
I was a deviled egg.
A friend of mine attached sponges all over herself. She was "self-absorbed." Same friend, another year, attached mini cereal boxes all over her and carried a machete. Yes. A serial killer.
Let's see, then there was the year I rubbed some black under one eye and wore a giant "P" on my chest.
Black-eyed pea.
As you may be picking up on, I am usually too busy planning a party and cooking to give much attention to my costume. This year is different. The Husband and I have already purchased the main parts of our costumes.
The last time we put a lot of effort into our costumes was a coupla years ago. I was pregnant with LW, and needed a costume with a little give. So I went as Sita and he went as Ram (Hindu god). I had on a gorgeous sari and all the gems around my eyes. He had an Indian tunic and we painted him blue.
Everyone thought he was supposed to be a member of Blue Man group.
This year, we go as another famous couple. More on that later.
And all of this ... the party is October 28. LW's big MRI is Oct. 16. We sit down with the doctor to go over the results Oct. 17.
So, everything might be canceled alluvasudden. But hopefully it won't be. I work with that in mind.
Oh, and hey ... got any absolutely to-die-for party recipes? Send 'em on!
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Pink Campbell's Cans
Okay, I've been fighting the urge and fighting the urge, and it was my grocery store flier that finally pushed me over the edge. They had a picture of Campbell's Soup Cans that are pink ... special edition cans to help in the fight against breast cancer.
I'm certainly not in support of breast cancer; I don't think that we need to hear its side of the story or anything. And I don't begrudge the Susan B. Komen org any of the research it can get.
But dammit, I want it some of that corporate sponsorship, too!
Of course, childhood cancer is personal with me and I want more funding for research there. Childhood cancer gets very little of the pie. And Wilms Tumor suffers from its very success. Because Stage 1 Wilms Cancer, non-bilateral, has such great statistics, good luck getting any research money thrown that way. I just found out that there is NO PROTOCOL for relapsed Wilms'. Doctors just have to make it up as they go, getting ideas from other doctors who often their patients tell them about.
And how about ovarian cancer? Liver cancer? Things that aren't as commercially chic right now?
You can't buy a product marketed to women that doesn't have a breast cancer tie-in. Kitchen-Aid mixers, Avon ... even stamps! US stamps!
I applaud those working for breast cancer research for doing this. It's brilliant. Now, teach the rest of us.
It's a hard road ahead, perhaps most for childhood cancer research. When Melissa Etheridge stands up, bald, and plays her guitar, we cheer. When a child stands up, bald, we cower. We don't want to see it.
Can you imagine ... a green-braceleted Barbie? Or Barbie with a lemonade stand, sending her profits to CureSearch?
How about "Hammers for your Hammer" -- a tie-in between testicular cancer research and Home Depot tools?
Eggbeaters for Ovarian Cancer Research?
You probably know that this month is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Last month was Childhood Cancer Awareness month.
Who knew.
I'm certainly not in support of breast cancer; I don't think that we need to hear its side of the story or anything. And I don't begrudge the Susan B. Komen org any of the research it can get.
But dammit, I want it some of that corporate sponsorship, too!
Of course, childhood cancer is personal with me and I want more funding for research there. Childhood cancer gets very little of the pie. And Wilms Tumor suffers from its very success. Because Stage 1 Wilms Cancer, non-bilateral, has such great statistics, good luck getting any research money thrown that way. I just found out that there is NO PROTOCOL for relapsed Wilms'. Doctors just have to make it up as they go, getting ideas from other doctors who often their patients tell them about.
And how about ovarian cancer? Liver cancer? Things that aren't as commercially chic right now?
You can't buy a product marketed to women that doesn't have a breast cancer tie-in. Kitchen-Aid mixers, Avon ... even stamps! US stamps!
I applaud those working for breast cancer research for doing this. It's brilliant. Now, teach the rest of us.
It's a hard road ahead, perhaps most for childhood cancer research. When Melissa Etheridge stands up, bald, and plays her guitar, we cheer. When a child stands up, bald, we cower. We don't want to see it.
Can you imagine ... a green-braceleted Barbie? Or Barbie with a lemonade stand, sending her profits to CureSearch?
How about "Hammers for your Hammer" -- a tie-in between testicular cancer research and Home Depot tools?
Eggbeaters for Ovarian Cancer Research?
You probably know that this month is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Last month was Childhood Cancer Awareness month.
Who knew.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
"I need an onion!!!" The Princess just hollered
We are decorating for Halloween and she just picked up a little Dracula figure. Her brother, 10, swiftly explains that it is garlic she needs, not onion.
All four are home today and we are making pumpkin-ade out of pumpkins, metaphorically. The two school-age ones showed up for breakfast yesterday morning with what looked like hives. Took them to the doctor where a quick swab of the throat (accompanied with much gagging) revealed that they have scarlet fever, which sounds scary to those raised on "Little Women," but thanks to antibiotics, is just another strep infection. They're on their meds and will be back at school tomorrow. Just sick enough to be contagious, not sick enough to feel bad. So, we decided we'd make today a holiday. We started the day with pumpkin-chocolate chip muffins, and are now decorating, listening to our Halloween party music and watching Halloween videos. Tame ones -- Winnie the Pooh and the Adventures of the Mutant Chain-saw Killer or something like that.
"More cow bell! I need more cow bell!!!"
Sorry. Don't Fear the Reaper just came on.
Happy October.
All four are home today and we are making pumpkin-ade out of pumpkins, metaphorically. The two school-age ones showed up for breakfast yesterday morning with what looked like hives. Took them to the doctor where a quick swab of the throat (accompanied with much gagging) revealed that they have scarlet fever, which sounds scary to those raised on "Little Women," but thanks to antibiotics, is just another strep infection. They're on their meds and will be back at school tomorrow. Just sick enough to be contagious, not sick enough to feel bad. So, we decided we'd make today a holiday. We started the day with pumpkin-chocolate chip muffins, and are now decorating, listening to our Halloween party music and watching Halloween videos. Tame ones -- Winnie the Pooh and the Adventures of the Mutant Chain-saw Killer or something like that.
"More cow bell! I need more cow bell!!!"
Sorry. Don't Fear the Reaper just came on.
Happy October.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Shout Out to Chalice Chick
Who goes by CC on her blog ... and whom I couldn't stop thinking about this weekend, thanks to Corpus Christi's new marketing flags that were everywhere.
"The Cancer To Have"
I believe that without exception, all of us whose children have been diagnosed with Wilms' Tumor have been told, "This is the cancer to have."
Last night, another child with the cancer to have departed this earth.
He was cute and he loved his Superman pajamas and his mother always ended her emails with "BE KINDER THAN NECESSARY, FOR EVERYONE YOU MEET IS FIGHTING SOME KIND OF BATTLE!"
I know they are trying to give you a ray of hope ... but I really hope that doctors/nurses will cease describing this as the cancer to have.
Last night, another child with the cancer to have departed this earth.
He was cute and he loved his Superman pajamas and his mother always ended her emails with "BE KINDER THAN NECESSARY, FOR EVERYONE YOU MEET IS FIGHTING SOME KIND OF BATTLE!"
I know they are trying to give you a ray of hope ... but I really hope that doctors/nurses will cease describing this as the cancer to have.
Cancer Kids Often Look Like Aliens
They do ... bald, no eyelashes/eyebrows, super-skinny, which means their eyes and ears looks abnormally large for their faces ...
We don't hold it against them, of course, but consciously or subconsciously, their appearance puts them in a category in our brains: "Cancer Kids." It is easy to see them as a separate type of being.
I know, because I did this. The Husband and I talked about that, this weekend. How we'd see those commercials for St. Judes and how foreign it all looked. It was like they were "special." We didn't have the feeling that something like that couldn't happen to us, more like it wouldn't. We were so ordinary. They were special.
They were so foreign.
But here's the deal ... they weren't always. Many of the "Wilms' Warriors" post pictures on their sites of what their child looked like pre-diagnosis.
They look completely ordinary.
They were.
We don't hold it against them, of course, but consciously or subconsciously, their appearance puts them in a category in our brains: "Cancer Kids." It is easy to see them as a separate type of being.
I know, because I did this. The Husband and I talked about that, this weekend. How we'd see those commercials for St. Judes and how foreign it all looked. It was like they were "special." We didn't have the feeling that something like that couldn't happen to us, more like it wouldn't. We were so ordinary. They were special.
They were so foreign.
But here's the deal ... they weren't always. Many of the "Wilms' Warriors" post pictures on their sites of what their child looked like pre-diagnosis.
They look completely ordinary.
They were.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Message from a Baptist Minister
Back in July, we received a little note in the mail from my MIL's minister. She goes to a large Baptist church ... spiritually, she is a UU. But she likes the people, and she wants to play in the bell choir. No bell choir in that town's UU church.
Back to the story.
Her minister sent us this: "Just a quick note to let you know that God has placed LW on our hearts down here and we lift her and you up in prayer often. Jesus Christ is your strength and healing."
Now, the theological message doesn't happen to be my flavor of brandy, but I'm impressed that he took the time to do this. I spoke to MIL, and he actually stopped her in church one day, asked for our address, and jotted it down.
Would your minister do this? And if not ... why not?
In an action that took maybe 2 minutes, this guy impressed us -- total strangers -- and got some major loyalty from his parishioner.
I think it's easy for us to "close the gates" around our congregations. To the person who stands up in Joys and Sorrows and says "my family member is having this happen ..." we will give our sympathy, perhaps even drop the church member a card. But to go the extra step and ask for the address of the person in question? And send a note?
Impressive. A lot of bang for the buck.
Back to the story.
Her minister sent us this: "Just a quick note to let you know that God has placed LW on our hearts down here and we lift her and you up in prayer often. Jesus Christ is your strength and healing."
Now, the theological message doesn't happen to be my flavor of brandy, but I'm impressed that he took the time to do this. I spoke to MIL, and he actually stopped her in church one day, asked for our address, and jotted it down.
Would your minister do this? And if not ... why not?
In an action that took maybe 2 minutes, this guy impressed us -- total strangers -- and got some major loyalty from his parishioner.
I think it's easy for us to "close the gates" around our congregations. To the person who stands up in Joys and Sorrows and says "my family member is having this happen ..." we will give our sympathy, perhaps even drop the church member a card. But to go the extra step and ask for the address of the person in question? And send a note?
Impressive. A lot of bang for the buck.
Message from a Baptist Minister
Back in July, we received a little note in the mail from my MIL's minister. She goes to a large Baptist church ... spiritually, she is a UU. But she likes the people, and she wants to play in the bell choir. No bell choir in that town's UU church.
Back to the story.
Her minister sent us this: "Just a quick note to let you know that God has placed LW on our hearts down here and we lift her and you up in prayer often. Jesus Christ is your strength and healing."
Now, the theological message doesn't happen to be my flavor of brandy, but I'm impressed that he took the time to do this. I spoke to MIL, and he actually stopped her in church one day, asked for our address, and jotted it down.
Would your minister do this? And if not ... why not?
In an action that took maybe 2 minutes, this guy impressed us -- total strangers -- and got some major loyalty from his parishioner.
I think it's easy for us to "close the gates" around our congregations. To the person who stands up in Joys and Sorrows and says "my family member is having this happen ..." we will give our sympathy, perhaps even drop the church member a card. But to go the extra step and ask for the address of the person in question? And send a note?
Impressive. A lot of bang for the buck.
Back to the story.
Her minister sent us this: "Just a quick note to let you know that God has placed LW on our hearts down here and we lift her and you up in prayer often. Jesus Christ is your strength and healing."
Now, the theological message doesn't happen to be my flavor of brandy, but I'm impressed that he took the time to do this. I spoke to MIL, and he actually stopped her in church one day, asked for our address, and jotted it down.
Would your minister do this? And if not ... why not?
In an action that took maybe 2 minutes, this guy impressed us -- total strangers -- and got some major loyalty from his parishioner.
I think it's easy for us to "close the gates" around our congregations. To the person who stands up in Joys and Sorrows and says "my family member is having this happen ..." we will give our sympathy, perhaps even drop the church member a card. But to go the extra step and ask for the address of the person in question? And send a note?
Impressive. A lot of bang for the buck.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The Water Song Element for ... Me
I am travelling to Corpus Christi, Texas, this weekend, en famille. The mother-in-love (mother-in-love, I call her) lives there, and it is Bayfest.
Was thinking about this today, making casual mental notes about things to pack, and it hit me.
Exactly what I need.
I need to sit by the water.
I need to sit by the bay, and watch the water lap.
The water here has healed me before. I have hope for her gift again.
Was thinking about this today, making casual mental notes about things to pack, and it hit me.
Exactly what I need.
I need to sit by the water.
I need to sit by the bay, and watch the water lap.
The water here has healed me before. I have hope for her gift again.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Strip Me
Right before I henna'ed my hair, I used some clarifying shampoo on my hair. It purports to strip all of the buildup and geegaws from all the junk we dump in our hair. Seemed to work ... my hair felt cleaner and soft as anything. It was ready to take the color.
Now ...
I need clarifying shampoo for my soul.
The best example I've ever heard of this is when John Lennon recorded "Believe." He stripped everything away ... "I don't believe in mantra ... in Jesus ... in Buddha ... in Beatles ... I was The Walrus, but now I'm just John ... the dream is over."
I need to clarify my soul.
Now ...
I need clarifying shampoo for my soul.
The best example I've ever heard of this is when John Lennon recorded "Believe." He stripped everything away ... "I don't believe in mantra ... in Jesus ... in Buddha ... in Beatles ... I was The Walrus, but now I'm just John ... the dream is over."
I need to clarify my soul.
Friday, September 22, 2006
It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp ... er, Mom
"At the first parent teacher conference, the P.T.A. handed out the survey, telling parents where they could be used as volunteers. It was the last option on the page that has some up in arms. A line that read, 'No, I do not want to get involved. I want my children to be thieves, drug addicts and prostitutes.'"
Lizard Eater: (gurgle ... choke ... wheeze)
Okay, I'm not surprised. You can see this attitude everyday, whether it's the PTA, or the "Doing a Good Thing Committee" at your workplace, or the "Name the Issue" committee at your church. Folks that get so blinded by what they're doing, who take martyrdom as their pay, that they completely lose any sense of perspective.
Yes, if you don't sign up to help pass out frozen cardboard cookie dough for the PTA, it is proof positive that you are a bad parent. You obviously do not care about your children, and frankly, they'd be better off in foster care. Perhaps even out on the street. At least those street kids have loyalty to each other.
Good grief, Charlie Brown.
Lizard Eater: (gurgle ... choke ... wheeze)
Okay, I'm not surprised. You can see this attitude everyday, whether it's the PTA, or the "Doing a Good Thing Committee" at your workplace, or the "Name the Issue" committee at your church. Folks that get so blinded by what they're doing, who take martyrdom as their pay, that they completely lose any sense of perspective.
Yes, if you don't sign up to help pass out frozen cardboard cookie dough for the PTA, it is proof positive that you are a bad parent. You obviously do not care about your children, and frankly, they'd be better off in foster care. Perhaps even out on the street. At least those street kids have loyalty to each other.
Good grief, Charlie Brown.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Weather is great. Glad to be here. Want to stay longer.
Little Warrior had a chest CT scan today. Wilms', if it recurs, often shows up in the lungs, so they try to be vigilant about that. They wanted to redo it since the July one, because with that one, her lungs collapsed a bit with the anesthesia, so there were some dark spots.
Last night, The Husband and I were a bit stressed. That ole feeling of "gee, this weather's been great. We'd like some more of it."
No news yet on the scan. I like to think that if there was something there, they wouldn't have let us leave the hospital.
Last night, The Husband and I were a bit stressed. That ole feeling of "gee, this weather's been great. We'd like some more of it."
No news yet on the scan. I like to think that if there was something there, they wouldn't have let us leave the hospital.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
BARNEY has jumped the shark
You heard it here first, folks. With the addition of Riff, the orange dinosaur, that artful example of American post-surrealism, Barney, has jumped the shark.
Further critical analysis of television geared toward those still on their first set of teeth will be shared at a later date. (But let me just say that "Boohbah" was clearly created by people who have experienced LSD.)
Further critical analysis of television geared toward those still on their first set of teeth will be shared at a later date. (But let me just say that "Boohbah" was clearly created by people who have experienced LSD.)
Monday, September 18, 2006
On the last M.A.S.H. episode ... and cancer
'So, how are you and The Husband doing?' a friend asked.
Well.
I remember watching the last episode of MASH with my parents. I guess I was in high school. What I remember clearly is that as we watched the characters giving each other emotional goodbyes, my father -- a Korean war vet -- said, 'No, it wasn't like that.'
'We didn't believe them. We all assumed we'd be recalled and have to come back. When we left, we said, 'Yeah, see you in a month.' We didn't believe the war was over.'
So, that's where we are now. The truth is, we don't know if the war is over, or if this is just a vacation.
We try to find joy in every day. We hug and love each kid every day, and we watch Little Warrior with very fresh eyes, considering she's our fourth child. It is not often that we forget how precious each moment is.
And we pray we won't be recalled.
Well.
I remember watching the last episode of MASH with my parents. I guess I was in high school. What I remember clearly is that as we watched the characters giving each other emotional goodbyes, my father -- a Korean war vet -- said, 'No, it wasn't like that.'
'We didn't believe them. We all assumed we'd be recalled and have to come back. When we left, we said, 'Yeah, see you in a month.' We didn't believe the war was over.'
So, that's where we are now. The truth is, we don't know if the war is over, or if this is just a vacation.
We try to find joy in every day. We hug and love each kid every day, and we watch Little Warrior with very fresh eyes, considering she's our fourth child. It is not often that we forget how precious each moment is.
And we pray we won't be recalled.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Holy Tangerine-Head, Batman!
Apparently, it will oxidize over the next three days and get darker. That'll probably be good, but heck, I like this.
Change can be good.
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Husband just spent half an hour wrapping me in plastic wrap
Well, to be more specific ...
My head.
I have begun a henna journey.
My hair was, to use my father's term, terdmuckeldy brown. The past 8 months saw a huge jump in grey.
I like grey hair. At 37, however, I was not liking MY grey hair. But I've done the whole bleach-highlighting stuff, in younger years. Very damaging for the hair, and apparently, not real good for humans. So, I happened upon the henna world and got interested.
It was nice to be interested in something. Other than counts and cts and such. And God, do not even get my started on how disinterested I am in all the millions of projects that people think I'd be just perfect for ...
Anyway, so after reading for weeks about it, and doing the strand test and skin test and all that prudent stuff, I am now diving in.
Cue the soap opera music ... Will Lizard Eater's hair turn auburn? Or orange? Will her head, in fact, simply fall off because ohmygod, having all this "clay" on long hair, piled up on my head is durned heavy?
These and other questions ...
My head.
I have begun a henna journey.
My hair was, to use my father's term, terdmuckeldy brown. The past 8 months saw a huge jump in grey.
I like grey hair. At 37, however, I was not liking MY grey hair. But I've done the whole bleach-highlighting stuff, in younger years. Very damaging for the hair, and apparently, not real good for humans. So, I happened upon the henna world and got interested.
It was nice to be interested in something. Other than counts and cts and such. And God, do not even get my started on how disinterested I am in all the millions of projects that people think I'd be just perfect for ...
Anyway, so after reading for weeks about it, and doing the strand test and skin test and all that prudent stuff, I am now diving in.
Cue the soap opera music ... Will Lizard Eater's hair turn auburn? Or orange? Will her head, in fact, simply fall off because ohmygod, having all this "clay" on long hair, piled up on my head is durned heavy?
These and other questions ...
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