Tall Tales from Kansas

I filled up all those spaces inside that needed replenishing

Last week when Joan and I met up for an adventure, I told her "tell Chuck you won't be home until at least 3:30, I have plans for us", without missing a beat, she assured me she was up for it. 

If you live in the KC area, and you go to Family Tree Nursery, you probably already know about the coffee spot that's there now (Equinox). Outside! With distanced tables! Among the plants! Some kind of a genius thinker put this plan together. Win-Win. 

After getting a couple of "blue moon" latte's we hit the road for a history lesson. 

We headed to City Hall, where I had planned for us to have a view of the city from the Observation Deck. Which, it turns out, has been closed since COVID hit. 

No matter. This extremely nice security guard and one of his buddies told us to go up to the 28th floor and look out the windows and then go to the 26th floor and look at the photos of all the previous mayors. 

Which we did, and found enjoyable as well as informative. I did not know that Kansas City was "chartered" in 1850. But now I do. The building has a cool Art Deco style with interesting details. A return visit when the deck is open will be planned. 

Next up - the West Bottoms and a trip to the new (to me) Hammerpress location.  I do so love all things letterpress and this store never disappoints. 

We drove among the warehouses and spotted places to return to on some "first Friday" when most of them are open. Antique stores, art spots, places I couldn't say what they were... all interesting looking. 

We cruised by the Crestwood shops to see what was in the windows. 

Then a stop for lunch at Aixois. Which by the way, has the best French onion soup. Their drink menu looked intriguing and when it warms up, cocktails on the patio will be happening. Gosh it was good to get "out" just a bit.  in a way that can only be met in the company of a dear friend. 

P.S. Less you think I am out and about and behaving indiscriminately, Joan and I have both received vaccines (me as a health care provider, she as a volunteer vaccinator), are well versed in social distancing, and are masked up. All the spots we visited had mask requirements, and they were well enforced. 

I could smell the beginnings of spring

At 7:29am, under a dense fog advisory, with temperatures holding steady at 38 degrees, and NO wind... outdoor walking season resumed in Lawrence Kansas today.

Birds were singing, no other humans were about, a squirrel ran up a tree and then came back down. It was GLORIOUS. Cobwebs that I did not realize had formed in the recesses of my brain were blown out. I could smell the beginnings of spring. 

number 3000

Happy Friday all.  As I sit down to write tonight, it's worth noting that this is the 3,000 post I have sent out into the world since the inception of Tall Tales from Kansas, almost 10 years ago. If you would have asked me at the time if I thought I had 3,000 posts in me, I think I would have said "maybe not?"

Through all the seasons and the beauty of each, the adventures, travels, culinary delights, books to discuss, my family stories, what I see at work, things that bring me joy or make me sad, I don't tend to think about the whole of it. When I walk upstairs after a day of work to sit at the computer and tap out what is on my mind, it is not generally planned out in advance. Sometimes, I start to write something and before I know it, things have moved in a much different direction than they were headed at the outset. 

It's kind of a funny thing, this blog. There is no specific purpose to it, other than to give me a chance to share my views on life. To tell stories, share the quirky/courageous/funny/complex individuals whose lives touch me daily at work, rhapsodize over my love of food/books/nature/art and craft, and anything else that pops into my unpredictable brain.

It has been a ride. I have met some very special people because of this blog. Individuals from across the globe whose paths would likely not have crossed with mine, if not for the world of the internet. For the friendships, the opportunities, the comments left that broaden perspectives, for all of this I am grateful. Thanks for checking in from time to time.

I wish you each a wonderful weekend. I am planning on doing as little as I can get away with, while sneaking in as much relaxation as possible. My formula for bliss. 

well worth the month or so I waited my turn for it

Here are my latest "kid book" favorites.

First there is The Boy, the mole, the fox and the Horse, by Charlie Mackesy. It is lovely for it's sweet and tender message of goodness about a friendship, between ... you guessed it, a boy, a mole, a fox, and a horse. It is a visual treasure. Written out in script, illustrated in a deceptively simple appearing style with watercolor and ink.

Thanks for telling me about it Jennifer, it was well worth the month or so I waited my turn for it at the library. I will by copying his watercolor style for some time to come.

My next report is about Wolf Hollow by Lauren Wolk. 

It's a story about right and wrong and navigating your way through the world as an 11 year old girl. I won't say more than that because I don't want to give things away. Well written, not too "preachy", with a good message. I absolutely adore the cover of this book.

I bought this one at my local bookstore and will enjoy reading it again in years to come. 

Both Highly Recommended. Simple stories for complex times. Have I said that already recently? It bears repeating.
 

throwing my desires out into the universe

This goldfinch and I had a staring contest the other day. So unusual that he did not take flight when I quietly crept  outside to take his picture. You can see he still has his winter colors on... but they are beginning to turn. We have been doing our best to keep these visitors supplied with fresh food all winter. 

Visitors that have been a wonderful distraction, and reminder that life goes on, no matter what. I told him to keep coming back and I will make sure Chris keeps filling the feeder. 

Which also reminds me that it's time to put up the square wreaths that go on the front windows in the spring. The ones the Robin's prefer to build their nests upon. 

Today it got up to 60 degrees here in Lawrence.  After 13 below last week. It's crazy. Crazy wonderful to think that spring is around the corner. I am dreaming of porch sitting. Wondering if my little redbud tree will have a good flowering this year. Thinking about traveling somewhere soon. Looking forward to regular visits with my Quail friends. Imagining the days when I can get up to watch the sun rise on a morning ramble. Hoping all my favorite coffee shops in Lawrence will re-open for my kind of Sunday morning church services after a walk. Sometimes just imagining that all this might be possible in the coming weeks and months is enough. 

In the face of no answers, conjuring up all the things that are good about the world seems right. Some might call it delusional, for me it's just throwing my desires out into the universe... all the better to make them happen. If you believe in that sort of thing. Which I do. Today. 

eight lovely, warm, crispy, soft, nutty, scones

The toasted oat, maple/nut, scone above came about recently because of snow. Glittery snow. 

Which of course made me think of sparkly sugar.

And it was all downhill from there. 

Oats were toasted with pecans, chopping was done, an egg was mixed with cream and milk, my hands got all sticky, a mess was made.

But at the end of all that, there were eight lovely, warm, crispy, soft, nutty, scones. 

Which make a fine breakfast on their own, but can also be joined by mangos and blueberries with greek yogurt on the side. The coffee is not negotiable, though in a pinch tea would also be perfect. 

Delicious right to the last crumbs. Which of course were eaten as well. Then the dishes were done. 

If you are not a fan of a glaze on top, it is not required. 

They freeze well. Recipe below if you are interested.

I make these and lemon cherry scone once every few years. These in the colder months, the lemon cherry in the spring or summer. I like to imagine sitting outside at an English cottage garden when I am eating them. To be able to dream is a wonderful thing. 

Click on it to make it bigger. 

 

I have no answer

This is another COVID story. It's a hard one. Don't read it if you can't take another single bit of sadness right now. The thing is, these losses matter. Whenever I hear or read about someone thinking the number of deaths related to COVID are inflated, or the virus "isn't real", I am compelled to share what IS happening. 

At the end of January, I told you about a young brother and sister in our hospital. Twenty six and twenty nine. At that time one was on a ventilator and the other soon to be. Their mother dead as well from COVID, though these 2 children didn't yet know it.

These siblings have had all the complications we are seeing with COVID patients. In addition to the devastating lung injuries, they have had gastrointestinal bleeding, kidney issues, and blood clots.  They have both received every therapy for COVID we have to offer. Despite all of this, one died last week. 

While they have been hospitalized my mind has wondered if it was possible that these 2 souls could be communicating with each other. Siblings, dying, several rooms apart, no family here in person. I know it's the stuff that movies are made of, but I want to believe somehow that there IS a connection. That they are supporting each other, that their mom is whispering words of comfort to them from wherever she is.

Meanwhile, the sibling who remained in ICU, on the ventilator, continued to have oxygen saturation levels dipping into the 20's and 30's. Sometimes with coughing, sometimes for no apparent reason, this means the nurses race into the room, disconnect the ventilator, "bag" her until the sats climb back into an acceptable range, then back on the ventilator until the next episode. Her body keeps trying to die. Her family holds on to hope. Her lungs so damaged from the virus. 

Then one morning this week, I pull up the list of patients on my service, and see she died overnight. The one grace in all of it, is that 6 members of her family were able to come and see her before they removed her from life support. 

The prolonged suffering of this family as they held on for all they were worth was so painful. Would it have been better if the mom and her two children had all died at once? Which suffering would be "easier" to bear? It is not a lie to tell you that I let out a long sigh when I saw she had died. Is it my suffering I wanted to end? Was it my desire to see the suffering of the family stop? There comes a point when you know someone is just not going to make it. You gently tell family you are "worried" they will not get better. They ask "isn't there any other medicine you can use?" 

Since 1981 I have been taking care of people who are dying, comforting families, managing symptoms, this is unlike any previous experience. How can one make meaning out of this? What is the lesson, the legacy? I have no answer.

P.S. this post is not meant to reflect on me in any way, please don't comment about the work I am doing. this is about the people who are sick and dying. if you want to comment, please add your "story" about the losses you have seen/experienced.

P.P.S. thank you.

I saw the poster below hanging up in the hospital a week or so ago. I couldn't resist posting it. I love a clever sign maker.

 

somehow very enjoyable

Sister, Pam, and I had such a good time playing around together during the annual art retreat in January, a decision was made for a repeat in February. We converged on ZOOM from our respective homes this past weekend, with a priority of having fun, and for me... doing things that seem impossibly hard, but somehow very enjoyable. 

Faithfully recorded, without explanation or excuses. Art in a pandemic can be life-saving. 

neighbor with cat, former wife, and a bookstore all figure into the puzzle

This morning I finished listening to Monogamy, by Sue Miller. She also narrates this audio version by the way, and I quite enjoyed her voice.  

I liked this book, a lot actually. It was interesting to follow along as Annie (the main character) dissects her relationship with her husband after his death. The story meanders back and forth through the years, and the place he occupied in her life. With a daughter, stepson, neighbor lady with cat, former wife of said husband, and a bookstore all figuring into the puzzle as well. I found small parts of it could have been left out. Full disclosure - I sometimes find descriptions of sexual encounters (even short ones) unnecessary. Go ahead, call me prudish. It's my prerogative now that I am in my 60's. 

I listened pretty much non-stop to the last 3 CD's. Now I will have to check out another Sue Miller novel. I feel like I have probably read something by her before, but when I looked at the titles with brief summaries of previous books, nothing jumps out as familiar.  Do let me know if you have a favorite.  

Highly recommended. 

bird tracks in snow

I can not recall the last time I was grateful for temps in the 20's with sunshine. Interesting what you are happy about when you have endured worse. Today before shoveling the driveway, photos were taken. 

Self portraits, snow studies, snow on the Chinese elm with that amazing bark. 

Plants that may or may not make it through another winter, things neighbors planted that have crossed boundaries and you are now charged with the care of. 









And finally, the most delicate, bird tracks in snow. My favorite.

Snow Fall

Tonight it was 3 below zero on the car thermometer on the way home. That's without a wind chill factor. To say I am sick of the snow and cold would be an understatement. I am dreaming of sunshine and warm breezes. In the meantime how about a reflection on snow by May Sarton... whose way with words can make anything seem ok. Almost.

Snow Fall
by May Sarton

With no wind blowing
It sifts gently down,
Enclosing my world in
A cool white down,
A tenderness of snowing.

It falls and falls like sleep
Till wakeful eyes can close
On all the waste and loss
As peace comes in and flows,
Snow-dreaming what I keep.

Silence assumes the air
And the five senses all
Are wafted on the fall
To somewhere magical
Beyond hope and despair.

There is nothing to do
But drift now, more or less
On some great lovingness,
On something that does bless,
The silent, tender snow.

telling stories of our most romantic moments of the past 40 years

Happy Valentines Day from the deep freeze that is Lawrence Kansas today! 

Chris and I are staying warm today by eating chocolates, dancing the jitterbug, and telling stories of all our most romantic moments of the past 40 years.

something very delightful about having all these adventures lying in wait

Oh I do thank those of you who told me about Maisie Dobbs. To start with, this is a lovely story, set in post WWI England, a little bit of a mystery, a charming main character, excellent supporting cast, and a reader with a great voice.  

AND, on top of all that, it's the first in a series. I can't wait to follow along as Maisie's story unfolds. At whatever pace I choose to proceed. There are 14 or 15 books in the series so far. Oh joy!

I tucked and stuck and called it good

Sunday Art ZOOM focused on hearts for me.  Kind of like the tree's I got addicted to around Christmas time. When I find something that appeals to me, I like to work it. For all it's worth.

Watercolor, ink, scissors.

I was going to sew them together for a garland, but I have another idea for that, so I tucked and stuck and called it good.  For the moment. 

a sturdy, farmhouse cake, with a tart lemon flavor, moist crumb, and buttery undertones

Yesterday, when our temperatures dipped into the single digits, and it was generally unpleasant outside, we tucked ourselves in, cozied ourselves up, and stayed put.

There was this lemon meringue slab cake to make and heels to turn. No matter that the only color of reinforcing yarn I have is not a perfect match for these socks. It will remind me in years to come that I made them during the depths of winter in a pandemic and "made do". 

I haven't made socks in a year or so. It does make me feel especially clever when these non-intuitive aspects of knitting are accomplished successfully. 

There was also a ZOOM early birthday celebration for Chris and Ann. We each made our own cheeseboard, opened a bottle of wine, discussed exercise programs and ring lights and a new gluten free bakery, played the intitial game, and decided that this was a perfectly acceptable way to celebrate.

But back to the cake. It has been calling my name since I saw the photo on the magazine.  

It did not disappoint. In fact, it exceeded my expectations. A sturdy, farmhouse cake, with a tart lemon flavor, moist crumb, and buttery undertones. The meringue is life-changing. I do not believe I am overstating that. This recipe will be my new go-to meringue for Aunt Mabel's chocolate pie. It is thick and smooth, slightly sweet but not overbearing, the perfect consistency, it sticks to your lips when you take a bite causing you to lick them repeatedly as you murmur "mmmmm". 

Recipe enclosed in link above so you don't have to take my word for it. 

to let the day go while laughing

Today during "Feedback Friday" session, Margaret and Shauna and I did a blind contour round robin. To mix things up we drew "post-it note" sized drawings with a thick line (sharpie marker). I have decided that an individual's response when faced with the suggestion of doing something like this is very telling about how well we will work together. 

Today as we sat around before we wrapped up the day, we talked about how impossible it would be to talk to anyone else about the things we saw this week. Who would believe it? How could we say it in a way that would capture such difficult moments in a life? So, instead we talked amongst ourselves, appreciating that we work in a "team" where we visit patients and families together, each calling upon our individual expertise to get the best outcome for each visit. One of the things that helps us stay strong as a team is to be able to give open, honest, timely, feedback about what went well and what could have gone better.

So while drawing on post-it's might seem a bit strange, it uses an entirely different part of the brain than we use all day long in tough conversations. To be able to let the day go while laughing at ourselves, appreciating our masterpieces is a gift beyond measure. 

no end to the fun

ZOOM art experiments continue. Self portrait with colored pencils here. Sister is drawing what's on her tables at home. Chris is downstairs sneezing loudly. Wyatt is trying to get on Sister's table at Moss Cottage.  

Below is last week's portrait. No end to the fun. 

Do tell us what tour de force you are working on and where to go to see it. 

it seems like you should have an answer for that sometimes

The most productive thing I did on Sunday was flip the calendar from January to February. Yes, I roasted Brussels sprouts and cauliflower, made lunches for the week, paid the bills, sent out some mail, and changed the sheets. But I didn't really "do" anything. 

You know how on a Friday when everyone is so looking forward to the weekend and you are asked "what are you DOING" this weekend? It seems like you should have an answer for that sometimes. I am going to start making up responses. Things that are believable and possible but totally fabricated. Then I am going to write a book about it. It will be appropriately titled, This: 52 Completely Fictional Accounts of Weekend Plans. 

Other things of interest:
1. We watched the last episode of Poldark on PBS. I was thoroughly satisfied with the wrap up. 
2. Sister told me about Blackbird, a movie about a woman who has a debilitating terminal illness, and elects to take matters into her own hands while she is able. Free on Amazon Prime. Sister and I differed a bit in our opinions about some aspects of it, but completely agreed we liked it. 
3. There was a really interesting article about smell in the NYT magazine this weekend. Link follows if you are interested. COVID and the sense of smell.