Little holiday snippets

Last week. Mom and dad hop off the max line and meet me in downtown portland for a marvelous Christmas visit to a department store--their gift. I try on outfits--a classy dress with nobby fabric...a suit that I wish looked good on me but just doesn't "do it"...two shirts dad brings over himself...we finish with a pair of slacks, drapy sweater and a cheerful undershirt. Then we head into a nearby coffee shop for hot cocoa and a slice of gingerbread. It's cozy and stuffy and humid with melting snow and exhausted breath from our fellow coffeshop patrons. We watch cars slip and slide on the street outside; we eavesdrop on two policeman watching their fellow officer deal with a car stuck on the max line.

Christmas Eve. Dad is redecorating the tree, with a present for mom. Single sheets of paper, a picture of a hot rod car on one side, a calendar month on the other. (We learn later--a year's worth of dates to the theater.)

At the coast. I awake and head upstairs. Mom's still in bed, cuddled in the master bedroom of the rental, with windows on nearly all sides. She's wearing her lightblue beanie hat. It's soft and gentle and makes her seem so small. I savor ten minutes with her, all to myself.

Everything so precious.

Valarie

How about that Wonderland?

Snow is falling on snow here. The Scion parked out front sports a 16-inch crown and all the neighborhood evergreens preen in their albino furs. Are we ready for Christmas? Welllll. Sort of. Nathan pulled an all-nighter last night and is toiling away at the dining room table on part of his proposal for his dissertation, due "before Christmas". I hope that means before we need the table for dinner which is always lamb piroshkis made by the three musketeers and some black bean soup this year made by yours truly.

After dinner, doors close throughout the house, folks yell, "Stay out" and "Who has the tape?" and there's much flurry and snipping of catalogs and scribbling of pictures to represent presents still residing in stores, and much composing of tags that give a hint of what's inside a box, but not too easy a hint. We're lucky to finish before Christmas day. Last to bed is Mr. Claus, who fills the Christmas stockings to overflowing with toothbrushes and jars of olives and trail mix and whatever else occurred to him as he raced down the aisles of Fred Meyer. Somewhere in the midst of all this we read aloud Astrid Lindgren's Christmas story, The Runaway Sleigh Ride, about family and how every child counts.

For Christmas breakfast we always have a Port Townsend Sunrise, dreamed up during our magical years in Port Townsend. Here's how it goes: Crowd a cookie sheet (if there are six of you or a smaller pan for fewer people) with slices of bread. Cover with slices of orange cut crosswise (the sunrise). Sprinkle with walnuts and chopped dates. Put lots of eggs in a blender and fill to the top with milk. Add a little cinnamon and salt and pour the blended mixture over the bread. Bake at 375 till the milk-egg mixture has set (20-30 minutes) and serve with warm applesauce poured over the top. Yummm. Yum.

Weather permitting, the Hamms will caravan to the beach to spend a couple of days with brother Alex and his family in a 3-story rental with a hot tub and a view of the ocean. Whatever your holiday plans are--and staying home with a warm afghan and a good book also sounds good, I hope I can trust you're spending time with someone you love appreciating what means the most to you this season.

With love from the Hamm household,

Diane

Is It Cold or What?

I don't know what it is about these cold, clear days that makes me feel like tap dancing across the stage of my life. Maybe it's all that light that makes me shoot into action like the amaryllis my friend Gina gave me at Thanksgiving. Or maybe it's just the exhibitionist in me soaking up all the accumulated sunshine of you all's loving concern. At any rate, (and I'll whisper this is order not to tempt the fates) i'm feeling great this week. I've been able to get lots of good hours of writing in and have a good appetite--trying to stop the weight loss.

We're looking forward to the return of the kids for Christmas, too, and to some special time shopping with each of them. Who could say we're not blessed to the hilt. I hope you all are keeping warm and energized and not too harried with extra demands of the Holidays.

From under the mistletoe, a kiss from

Diane

Reality Check

This week Jeff and I realized we've fallen into a pattern of expecting a revival when my chemo treatments end. We've been lounging around, putting things off. I've dreamed of reclaiming my brain, shedding the fuzzy effects of chemo on thinking capacity. Somewhere along the line, though, I began to suspect there might be more to this than 6 treatments, a remission and a likely return. On Tuesday, at my 4th chemo treatment, we pumped the doctor again. Though my tumor marker numbers have been steadily declining, he anticipates I'll need two additional treatments plus one year of maintenance chemo--one drug instead of two, every four weeks. After that, it's anybody's guess.

But the upshot is, I realize this may be as good as it gets, so I better get my kuttocuss in gear. So today, despite being feverish, I hunkered down in front of the Christmas tree (quite possibly the source of my fever) and spent several hours revising a manuscript. Hooray, you might say. I just hope my fuzzy brain remembers a few days from now which manuscript I worked on and what in the world I was attempting to accomplish in it!

Some good news for all my wonderful ladies and for those who love them: According to my chemo nurse, the FDA recently approved a new ovarian cancer screen that should be out after the first of the year. It's expected to be a routine part of a woman's annual exam--yes! Yes! This is not the CA 125 tumor marker some of you may have heard about that is unreliable because it registers inflammation from any source in the body (not just ovarian cancer). Ask your doctor about this new screen at your next exam. As some of you know, the reason ovarian cancer is so deadly is because its symptoms are rarely recognized until the disease is far advanced like mine.

Love to you all,

Diane

Round 4

Mom will likely have more updates, but wanted to let you all know that she went in for her fourth round of chemo yesterday. I'm mighty proud of how well she's been holding up, thanks in part to all of you, but also due to her general stamina and strength.

Last Friday she about walked the pants off of her sister and niece (Aunt Lorie and Alicia) and me as we attempted to complete some Christmas shopping. It might have had something to do with the smoothies she's managing to force down. I'm awaiting the day when she actually admits to liking them. (Here's where she'll wryly comment, "Over my dead body!")

Other news? The holiday countdown has commenced. Alex and I hauled a tree over to mom and dad's last weekend from our family friends Arnie and Susan's Christmas tree farm in McMinnville. My little house has its first tree ever; mom and dad's is up earlier than ever before. It's a welcome, cozy, friendly feeling. Can't wait for Jess and Nathan to head home so we can get started making piroskis with lamb, raisins, feta cheese and spinach. It's a Christmas Eve tradition that started a while back but I have no idea where it came from--we don't have Russian roots.

Best to all of you,

Valarie

Leftovers

I'm still smacking my lips over the garlic mashed potatoes and divine gravy at Thanksgiving, gravy drippings provided by my brother-in-law's perfectly roasted and stuffed turkey. As usual, Jesse and his cousin Logan alone required five pounds of potatoes between them. Jesse also put away a full quarter of the apple pie from home--good thing there were two other pies and a cobbler for the rest of us. Nathan arrived in time for dessert, having missed his flight out of Manchester on the east coast, which provided him with a hilarious story. For one thing, Security is a little touchy about bricks of cheese in large quantities in carry-on luggage.

After overindulging in all our traditional Thanksgiving fare, we Hamms plunged into a raucous solitaire tournament with cards recycled by Jesse from his days as a professional poker dealer. I have to say I'm really not much of a game or card player--it has to do with my limited attention span--but ever since I joined the Hamm clan decades ago I've been a solitaire aficionado--multiple-player solitaire, you understand. As in 4, 5, 6 players all throwing their aces into the communal pot to build on. Oh the shouts, the curses, the shrieks of dismay! (I did have to forcibly remove Jeff's jack of spades from a pile I'd been watching Forever to put my own jack on.) We finished the day with a grand slam 8-person frenzy, played on the floor. My stomach muscles are still complaining about those 3-foot reaches across the playing field.

Jeff and I were able to have a quiet day with Nathan before he returned to Dartmouth. Nathan's my fellow artist, and it was great to have his encouragement on the greeting cards lined up on the piano that I've made in hopes of someday writing you all. He also appreciated a painting I did last winter for Valarie that keeps having to return to the artist for "adjustments". Imagine my pique when Jeff and I sneaked the altered painting over to Valarie's for reinstalation while she was still on Thanksgiving sabbatical in Port Townsend, only to discover we no longer had her house key on our key ring.

I've now put away my paint brushes in preparation for the writing prescription Nathan is sending me. The whole family seems to feel that my brain may evaporate entirely if I don't at least Make An Attempt to exercise my writing muscle every day. The good news is an editor who saw a preview of my work in October has written that she'd be happy to look at my entire middle grade manuscript as soon as I finish some revisions she suggested. That kind of revision concentration will have to wait till after Christmas. For now, being able to make Christmas lists will be challenge enough. Thank goodness for my sweet sis Lorie and her daughter Alesia who are coming this week to help with Christmas shopping. I have the best sister and sisters-in-law ever. May you, yourself, have at least one.

Diane