Yesterday morning birthday boy and I escaped to a friend's little corner of the woods, where she is the steward of a farm on the weekends. She is the lovely sort of person whose house looks like this:
(spot one of my bowls? And the fired version of these wee pumpkins?)
We had honey blueberry muffins, lemon tea, wood trucks, and a nice fire inside, followed a quick walk out.
I infinitely preferred the morning to the afternoon. We took a little trip to Hershey to see one of Marian's specialists (her story; I really will force her to catch y'all up on all of her good news soon), and were caught in the cafeteria by a phone call from Reuben's oncologist. Seems we all had ourselves some tangled communication lines, and instead of being done, baby boy has 5 more rounds of chemotherapy. Which means we're only half done poisoning him. We'll start again next week, juggling 2 kids in the hospital (a minor surgery for Marian) at the front end of the week with an MRI and family escape to the Jersey shore at the end of the week. Maybe even a family photo session if I get me proverbial ducks in a row. And to think that I thought next week ("when everything slows down") would be the week I finally listed what I haven't given away (houseguests always get something) of the pottery I finished in my lonely little etsy shop (evidence that it was once active here).
Gird up loins.
Get on with it.
We attended (Nathan spoke at) the funeral of a good friend on Monday, the most eloquent of reminders that biology can be a fearsome foe. As much as I hate chemotherapy, I hate cancer more.