Three Ways with Plums

I was at a meeting this week and someone made a (reasonably tasteless) joke about getting cancer from a power line.  People laughed awkwardly.  So did I.  I looked around at the meeting attendees and it struck me.  No one here knows I have had cancer.  And they can't tell by looking at me (although why they think I would choose to have hair this short I don't know but there are lots of women around with Voluntary Short Hair and they look great).  If there is one thing I have loathed over the last 16 months it is the occasional look of pity or shock or embarrassment I have received when people realise I am being treated for cancer (the wig was a giveaway).   This is a good place to be in, I can tell you.

Something I have done in the last five years which has improved my life by an amount I can even measure in percentage terms (I would say 5%), it would be using one of the duopoly supermarket people to home deliver all my heavy horrible groceries like milk, mineral water and nappies.

In an attempt to further limit pointless driving around I have just started using these people to deliver organic fruit and vegetables to me. The delivery includes a mystery box of what is in season (and presumably cheap).

I think this is something people do perhaps more in the US than here, but I am loving the surprise of it. So what to do with two huge eggplants? Or other vegetables I don't otherwise usually buy like mushrooms. Last time round I got a big batch of plums. Plums remind me of my childhood, I think the plums we had then we a bit different - purple inside rather than orange, but nevertheless, I love their juicy sweetness.

(chopped plums, mint, chilli and spring onions)

The first thing I made was plum tabbouleh, with burghul (ie the traditional way).  The plums contrast very well with the grain.  Lots and lots of olive oil and lemon juice and salt and you can eat a whole large bowl No Problem At All.

This idea came from Nigel Slater' Tender Volume II, which is a cook's guide to fruit.  I have written before about Nigel, and his brilliant cookbooks.  (Nigel is on my dream dinner party list. He would be joined by Anthony Bourdain, Ian McEwan, Malcolm Turnbull, Henri Bernard Levy ands the lead singer of Muse (yes, all men. Why not, it's my dream.)).

Then I made a pudding-ey cakey plum cake with cinnamon and honey.  This was okay but not amazing but I think I may have overcooked it.  A variant on his recipe is here.  

Finally, plum chutney.  Very easy - chopped up plums, onion, cover with splash of water, some malt and apple cider vinegar, mustard seeds and cinnamon.  Cook slowly for an hour. You may need to add more water and check at the end to make sure it is sufficiently sweet \ sour.

Brilliant with pork.

Happy chutney eating to you all. 

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Down the Path

Down the (newly granulated) windy path, and past the forest of iron bark gums*:

Up through the bend, under the shade of wattle trees: 

Across the railway sleepers and down the little steps:

Lies a green circle of grass, for playing soccer, running under the sprinkler and lying in the sun.

(tanbark will soon be overrun with lots of Australian native grasses)

And on the other side, a dark little shed, just ripe for conversion into a little study.  Or studio.

A place to work, if we have to.  Or write, if I want to.

George Bernard Shaw's writing room.

This is where GBS wrote many works including Pygmalion. So many writers need solitude and separation from the real world.  This writing hut is so clever, because it pivots on a kind of Lazy Susan to make the most of the sunshine and also to change his aspect.  It has a little sloping roof to deal with snow.   He called it 'London' so his staff would be telling the truth to visitors when they were told 'He has gone to London'. 

Virginia Woolf's writing shed (converted from a toolshed) at Monk's House in East Sussex

English firm Scott's of Threapston makes a writing shed based on both Virginia Woolf's and Shaw's.  This is the interior of the Woolf style (from Remodelista).  I love the forest green austerity. 

Something more dramatic (and unrealistic) via Remodelista

This is actually a little home.  via Busyboo.com

Of course I would have to shingle the roof.  Or would I? (via a million boards on Pinterest)

This was made using recycled wood and cost $35.  Via Canadian House and Home

What do you think?  I am guessing the shed needs to be lined, and floored, and electrified (you can tell I am no carpenter).  Has anyone ever done this?   Any tips? 

* We have just had the garden redone at the beach.  It was not a dramatic change, we kept all the trees but did some little paths and a fire pit sitting area, and the grassy bit.   But it makes such a difference. 

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Turquoise Eggs

Amazing as it may seem I have managed to reach the ripe old age of Over 40 without ever making any colored Easter eggs. That deficiency has now been rectified. I made these yesterday.

I used gel food colouring which is more expensive that the liquid but I am told it lasts a long time - I bought a set of 8 colours for the rainbow layer cake I made last weekend for my son's birthday. I managed to take no photos of its multi coloured amazingness but the colour was certainly intense I can assure you.


For these eggs I used the teal colour and also violet.  I soaked the gently hard boiled eggs for at least an hour, in water with a bit of vinegar.  (I have learned through experimentation that the way to hard boil eggs is to cover with cold water, bring to a boil then turn heat off and leave for 14 or so minutes -this seems to stop the shells cracking).


As is sometimes the way with these kinds of exercises I appreciated the result more than my family who said variously:


'Isn't that a waste of eggs?' (husband)


'I don't eat hard boiled eggs.' (daughter)


'Yum when can I eat them are they chocolate?' (son)


But I still love them.


We are down at the beach for Easter. Yesterday was boiling hot and we swam in the surf. Then there were windy storms, and today it is cold.  We will have the fire lit before Easter is over.


Happy Easter.  


xo

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Savannah

One of the many books I read during my chemo purgatory was Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt.  A great book for sleepless nights wondering about the random nature of life.

(designer Lyn Morgan's Greek Revival House in Savannah) 

(living room)

I first bought it at university, prompted I am pretty sure by the rave reviews of my friend Aussie New Yorker but I never quite got to it.

If you have not read this book, it covers the author's lengthy stay in Savannah, at the time of the four trials of antique dealer, Jim Williams, who was tried for the murder of local good time boy (and his assistant), Danny Hansford.

I so loved this book, the humid, creeper clad decadence of the Savannahians, and their eccentric cross dressing, backwoods bars, corrupt politicians, secret affairs, all night parties, internecine rivalries, and the two unforgettable female characters - a local voodoo high priestess and drag queen (the Lady Chablis - formerly Frank).  The writer describes the shady world as Gone with the Wind on Mescalin, one of the many lovely turns of phrase sprinkled in the book.  

I particularly liked Mandy Nichols' observation that it is so much better to be on the 'edge of a party'.

This book is a great exploration of the darker side which hums beneath every city, town and village.   As Minerva the voodoo lady puts it -

'Dead time lasts for one hour -- from half an hour before midnight to half an hour after midnight. The half-hour before midnight is for doin' good. The half hour after midnight is for doin' evil.'

This is Jim Williams' house (Mercer House, now a museum I think) which he loved to live in because it annoyed all the 'right people'.

Here are some typical houses from the historic quarter:

(via Young House Love)

(via Pinterest)

For all of Lyn Morgan's stunning house in Savannah, go here.  

It is quite divine and the antithesis of the dark antique filled rooms of Jim Williams.  You can read more about him here. 

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Gentlewoman

Have you seen this UK magazine?  It is difficult to track down here in Australia but it is worth it. 

There are only two editions a year, and it is heavy and thick and glossy and decadent like an Italian Vogue, and packed full of fantastic interviews, great fashion, amazing photography and lots of dreamy things.   To me, it is exactly what a magazine should be.   I am off to Amazon to try to find a cheap subscription. 

On the cover is Christy Turlington my favourite secret crush supermodel.  I loved her in the 80s, I love her doing her yoga thing and I love her being a mother.     To me, she has always seemed very unaggressive and gentle.  No tantrums, no odd surgery. 

(by Peter Lindbergh)

(by Sofa and Mauro)

It was my birthday this week and I received yesterday a lovely little package in the post which looked like this:

It was from Jane, fellow lawyer and blogger, of Planet Baby.  So thoughtful in this day and age to take the time to make a gift, wrap it, write a card and post it all.  Just blows my mind really.  Thank you dear Jane it is much appreciated (and you have a lot of challenges at the moment) and here is the gift, a divine Liberty heart, sitting for moment against a bronze Buddha we bought in northern Thailand a lifetime ago. 

I am becoming scarily addicted to Instagram. I know I am hardly cutting edge in this, but I do love it so. 

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At last

This morning I had my final Herceptin treatment.

As much as I love the ladies in the oncology suite I fervently hope I never have to set foot there again until the day I die of natural causes at the age of 84.  I made them a plate of chocolate gingerbread which somehow seemed inadequate (not to say unhealthy) for all the great care they had provided to me.

I feel like I have run a particularly gruelling torturous marathon. I sat down the other day and did my 'out of pocket' medical expenses table for the accountant (thank you, evil Medicare and health insurer for not paying me for any of my Chinese medical expenses and no it is NOT a lifestyle choice).

It made me feel quite unwell to revisit all I have been through.    It was almost like going through it again.  And of course I felt relieved that I was even around to be doing an Excel spreadsheet of medical costs. Because that is what people say don't they?  That we should be thinking 'well at least I'm not dead'.  But really you could say that about any crap experience. It doesn't make it any less horrendous.

A particularly satisfying rainbow down at the beach

When I look at my treatment course I find it hard to believe I found the time to keep working.  And cooking. And being a wife.  And raising two occasionally temperamental children who have been through something no child should have to (as much as I tried to keep on an even keel and keep it hidden, they knew, as all children do, that things were not quite right last year).  

I certainly didn't have the time to write here as much as I could have or should have.

You see, it's not just the chemo which is distracting.  It is all the miscellanea, or paraphernalia which comes with a cancer diagnosis.

As a test, I thought I would see if I can remember what has in fact been keeping me busy since 20 December 2010. And lo and behold, I could.  Engraved on my soul, I guess you could say:

• two major operations
• two breast biopsies
• one MRI
• 2 CT scans
• 2 bone scans
• one liver ultrasound.
• two mammograms
• two breast ultrasounds
• 4 x fortnightly AC chemotherapy (average length - four to 5 hours)
• 12 x weekly Taxol chemo (average length 3 hours)
• 12 x weekly Herceptin infusion (with Taxol)
• 15 x 3 weekly Herceptin infusion (average 2 hours).
• 5 heart scans (MUGA and EKG)
• 1 stereoscopic biopsy.
• 4 self injections of Neulastin (for blood count)
• 6 x injections of Zolodex (don't ask)
• 11 surgical consultations
• similar number oncology consultations
• monthly acupuncture and Chinese herbal consultation with the Professor.
• countless, and I do mean too many to count, blood tests. 

And I hasten to point out my treatment was relatively straightforward with very few complications.

It's a full time job, having cancer.   These things take time.  Getting the referral, booking appointments, sitting around waiting waiting.  Drinking something awful or having blood taken and waiting a bit more.   Trying not to stare too much at the other people.  Burying my nose in a book or my IPhone.   Waiting a bit more. 

I have sat in many waiting rooms.  Waiting rooms with nothing but four year old golf magazines. Waiting rooms with ugly flower paintings.  With silly background musak. With morning TV.   With people sitting staring at the wall trying to come to terms with unspeakable news.  With people crying. 

But I have also made wonderful friends, and shared many many jokes with all kinds of people, because when things are black one can often still find a reason to smile.  

THANK YOU ALL for your words of encouragement, support and friendship.  What I would have done without you all, I do not know. 

In a horrible kind of symmetry, last week a lovely fellow blogger, Annie, who is from Queensland was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Please visit her here and give her lots of support.

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Nautical Shelves

So long since I posted! I have been shaken out of my reverie by a kindly follower who emailed to see if I was okay.  Thank you.  

The truth is, I have been enjoying life with a minimum of injections and doctors appointments, so much so I have slipped away from here a bit.   Only one more treatment to go.  I am counting down the days till the 26th of March.  Yes it's true, I have been having intravenous treatment for that long - 15 months.  

But I do realise that if I tell people about the cancer and then don't blog, it may make people think the worst. 

Fear not, dear readers.   Am feeling fantastic.  But am sorry for lack of comments.  Really I Must Do Better. 

I have been doing a little project at the beach which took longer than it should due to delays with the wallpaper samples arriving. 

It is very simple, but makes my son's very plain little room a bit more perky.

Here is his little bed:

Longtime readers will remember I made the boat pillow during a Sunday afternoon burst of creativity.

I have found Pottery Barn and the Land of Nod to be invaluable online resources.  These places probably seem basic to readers from the US but for mine simple reasonable quality children's linen which is not festooned with superheroes or Thomas the Tank Engine is not easy to come by here in Australia.  This cover is an all in one padded doona.  Really easy to clean, and lies flat. 

There are some shelves in this room where we keep books and clothes.

I got some sample wallpaper online and lined the shelves like this:

It doesn't intrude into the zen whiteness of the room, but it really make the shelves a focus point. The wallpaper is by Thibaut and Ralph Lauren.   UK wallpaper sites are happy to send lots of samples to you, sometimes for free, sometimes for a small fee. 

In other news, I have joined Twitter.  Not 100% sure why, as I always said I have nothing interesting to say in less than a short paragraph.  But we shall see.  It does allow me to spy on people I have long been a little bit secretly obsessed with like Anthony Bourdain and Bret Easton Ellis.  Feel free to follow me.  I will not be bombarding you with tweets, I can assure you.  


Next on the list, Pinterest. 


xo

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