Getting Back Into the Swing of Things

Hey, everyone!  Remember this blog?  It's been awhile, eh?  After that last post, things got a little crazy.  Well, a lot crazy, actually.  But in a good, affirming-my-faith-in-humanity sort of way.  Which is why I feel like I need to say the following:

THANK YOU.

To anyone and everyone who spread the word, or donated, or bought something, I thank you from the bottom of my cold little heart.  The support has been nothing short of amazing, and the prospect of being sans-insurance is far less daunting.  We're not 100% there yet, with the new chemo and additional scans/procedures, but it's nice to be able to focus on things like life and getting better without trying to calculate how much plasma one can sell per week before anemia sets in and/or the phlebotomists get suspicious.

And for those of you who haven't caught the Poopstrong fever (only cure: more cowbell poop jokes), here's the website.  You can also like us on Facebook or follow us on Twitter for updates and general shenanigans.  I've even added links to the right side of the blog, so you can always see what we're up to!

So, apart from fulfilling t-shirt orders, what have I been doing with myself lately?  Well, I've been traveling and stalking waterbirds...

and saving the occasional rogue snapping turtle.

There have been visits to the ocean

and day-drinking excursions.

I've also started cooking again.  Mostly beans, like this vaguely Eastern Europeany black-eyed pea and cabbage saute (that I stuffed in a pita, because why not?):

and this lemony fried lima bean and chard salad.

There has been a resurgence of crafting, as well as some developments in the field of urban homesteading (or, in my case, urban fauxsteading).  I've decided that I need both a sewing machine and a bike.  I sprained my ankle.  I got to stay two doors down from Snooki's place in Jersey City.  And I should really get around to posting that tasty sweet potato and peanut soup recipe to the sister blog.

Oh, and the cat fell asleep in my armpit once.

SO MUCH STUFF.  So stay tuned!

#poopstrong

As some of you lovely readers know, there have been goings-on here in PHX regarding The Husband.  I've generally been beating around the issue, mostly because it's not something I enjoy spending a lot of time thinking or talking about.  One of the wonderful things about this little corner of the Internet that I carved out for myself was that I didn't have to talk about it; I could use this space to focus on the things I enjoy, the fun things in life that I wanted to share with all 10 of you who read this.  This little blog was my refuge from the storm, in a way—a little binary-coded spot where I could ramble on about scones and cats and other lovely frivolous things.

However, sometimes Real Life manages to sneak in anyway.  I mentioned the happenings in passing, mostly because I felt an obligation to explain my random and sustained absences.  At that same time, though, I realized that as much as I didn't want to talk about it, sometimes I needed to.  Pretending as though nothing is wrong gets tiring, even when it comes to infrequent postings on a little crafty blog.

So, rather than pretend any longer, here you go:  The Husband has cancer.  Specifically, stage IV colon cancer, which he was diagnosed with this time last year, just two months after his 30th birthday.  And that The Husband is the man behind Poop Strong, which seems to be blowing up a portion of the Internet.

It has been a long and strange ride since then.  He's undergone two major surgeries and multiple chemo treatments.  We've made more of the four-hour roundtrip drives between PHX and Tucson (where he gets treatment) than I care to count.  It's been scary, exhausting, frustrating, lonely, and disorienting.

However, things have also been inspiring and uplifting and happy.  We've been incredibly fortunate in so many respects: The Husband (whose real name is Arijit) has been receiving excellent care; his youth and relative health have made tolerating the intensive chemo much easier; we have wonderful friends and family, who have been amazingly supportive throughout everything; and we're both stubborn and unwilling to back down.  Because of all this, we've been able to generally keep living life as usual, and that's not something that every family facing cancer can say.

We've also been lucky in that we have insurance coverage, through Arizona State University (where Arijit is a PhD student in their School of Sustainability).  However, in just a year, he has maxed out on his insurance, which has a lifetime cap of $300,000 in benefits. As such, we are now responsible for all expenses relating to this treatment.  Thankfully, this should just be a temporary situation, as Arijit should be re-insured in August (either through the new ASU student health plan that is being negotiated now, or by purchasing insurance through the Pre-Existing Condition program offered via the Affordable Care Act). 

Until then, though, we need to pay for Arijit's care out-of-pocket.  We've been working with the Patient Advocate at the University of Arizona Cancer Center to get his medications at reduced cost and get some of his treatment costs written off, but we estimate that six months of treatment—assuming that nothing changes—will cost at least $100,000.

Strangely enough, we don't have $100,000.

To help offset the costs of treatment, we've started up Poop Strong, a site dedicated to raising money and keeping Arijit on track to get better.  We're accepting donations; selling hilarious, poop-and-colon-related apparel; and generally raising awareness of the awesomeness of my husband and the tragedy of our healthcare system.  If you're so inclined, stop by, read more of The Husband's story, and give if you can.  Even if you can't donate, which we entirely understand, please help spread the word: the more people we reach, the more likely we are to hit our goal.  If you're on Facebook, like us here and you'll get access to the incredibly lame poop jokes I post as the inspiration strikes.

Thanks for reading, and for your support.  We now return to your regularly-scheduled inanity.

Uzbekibekibekistan

Holy cats and kittens, y'all—there's brand new excitement over at ye olde sister blog!  If you're at all interested in Central Asian cuisine—or, more accurately, my ramblings about Things I Learn on the Internet about former member-states of the USSR and the foods said people may or may not eat—check it out!  Vaguely Uzbek(?) chickpea salad with tubers of various sorts!  Plus, random facts about Uzbekistan you can use to impress your friends, subjugate your enemies, and seduce any attractive persons in your life.  Happy early Valentine's Day, everyone!

Productivity and Other Resolutions

As part of that time-honored tradition of hurling yourself towards Self Improvement in celebration of yet another successful revolution of the Sun by the Earth, I too have resolved.  Specifically, I resolved to be more productive, which encompasses things like increasing my vegetable consumption and reading actual books again and maybe not spending so much dang time on the Internet randomly clicking links, how 'bout it?

Of course, as with most resolutions, I was really on top of this one for about two weeks, at which point I got sick and all of my energy and drive and wherewithal just sort of...dissolved.  Other things, like treatment and money and general, low-level fretting, took precedence, and I let myself get swept away by it all. 

Enter a much-needed vacation to Flagstaff, where I could lounge around by a fireplace drinking hot chocolate and eating brownies, where I could have adventures if I was feeling sprightly or just curl up under a blanket with a book if I was feeling hermitty.  Buoyed by a week of various sorts of energizing relaxation, I feel ready to take on the world.  Or at least ready to write the world a strongly worded letter informing it of my intentions to take it on.  Progress, either way.

So, here I am, poised at the edge of tomorrow with a happycat in my lap, resolve for resolutions in my heart, and too much chana dal in my stomach (many thanks to The Husband for that last one).  In this spirit of new years and renewal and life, allow me to present to you my wee bean:

Actually, there are two wee beans!  And several flowers that promise additional wee beans!  And none of the other plants have died yet!  And all the beets and carrots and onions have sprouted, but the seeds seem to have migrated to the side of the planter, so they'll probably end up all misshapen but WHATEVER, things are growing!  Mysteries of life and all that.

While in Flag, I also got the chance to get cracking on some new crafts, specifically double-ended crochet.  Thus far, I'm not sure there's much to it other than making variations on a rectangular theme, but more investigations are in order.  Just like I need to look into Tunisian crochet and knitting and kumihimo and needlefelting with wool and needlefelting WITH CAT FUR (and yes, I do have a bag of cat hair sitting around somewhere), as well as find our iron so I can start up on the lovely sashiko kits that my lovely friends at Sake Puppets sent me!

It'll be like NCIS: PHX in here: New Craft Investigation Service [in] Phoenix, that is! (Ba-doom tish.)

Yes, friends, I'm cooking up all sort of crafty shenanigans, and productivity is on the menu.  Along with beans and murder.

Also, I've made things!  Actual finished projects that I can see and touch and feel superior about, until I remember the long list of things I haven't made and am promptly shamed back into humility.

Project the first was a blanket, a gift that was only 3.5 months late.  Originally, it was to be a surprise "hooray you survived your 10-hour surgery" present for The Husband, but it's oddly difficult to work on a surprise gift when you're sitting next to the recipient, in a hospital, for 12 hours a day.  Or when you live together and your apartment isn't very big and certain Husbands keep conveniently "forgetting" that I'm Secret Crafting and no you can't come out here I DON'T CARE IF YOU NEED TO USE THE BATHROOM YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE EARLIER.  As usual, the yarn-addled cat was super helpful.

"Blanket" may be a bit optimistic, given the wonky dimensions (blast you, too-small hook), but after much anger and injured fingers from rage blocking, it's become an acceptable lapghan.  Also, go Buckeyes, O–H–I–O, we are terribly unconcerned with the state of Michigan in its entirety, something something etc.

Project number two was also for The Husband, because I am kind and benevolent like that.

It's a hammerhead shark.  Feasting upon a head.  You know how they do.

Although I think the eyes make it look downright sluggy, I'm generally pleased.  Not sure how many bright orange sharks are out there, but evolution is a magical thing, and while I don't quite see the need for an orange shark, given that the ocean is not orange and the whole part of predator coloration is to blend in with the surroundings, far it be for me to say that sharks can't be orange if they so wish.  I, for one, would not argue with sharks, as they have been around far longer than I and are also possessed of many rows of teeth.

Des(s)ert Life: Livin' every week like it's Shark Week.

It's Alive!

I've been lazy on the cooking front, what with my first cold of 2012 knocking me out of commission for several days and The Husband's bi-weekly pump-induced Bed Rest keeping me busy, but there have been some exciting developments on the vegetable front.

We have seedlings!

 

Yes, things are actually growing!  The lettuces are peeking out, as are the tiny wild rocket sprouts next to them.

The pepper cress has officially gone doolally, which meant I was able to harvest some to add to my scrambled eggs and toast this morning.  I felt so pioneering!

The interior beans are holding strong; I just have to figure out how to train them to climb up the fake trellis I constructed out of cooling racks and picture wire.

The tomatoes are also making a strong showing.  I'm still not sure how I'm going to manage these post-transplantation, but I'll cross that tasty bridge (we're on a bridge, Charlie!) when I get there.  First, though, I have to keep the cat from eating them.  He's already beheaded at least one tomato sproutling (along with a bean stalk).  We contemplated getting him some cat grass, but we don't really want to encourage him to throw up all over the place (even more so than usual).

After much fretting and ruining of heating pads, the some of the peppers have finally woken up, too.

Overall, this little experiment in self-sufficiency is progressing nicely.  The cooking greens (cavolo nero, Swiss chard, kale) have all finally sprouted, as have the beets and peas and rat-tail radishes (the vines of which can apparently grow to several feet tall, so that is requires some frantic, not-yet-figured-out modifications). 

I'm also growing some potatoes in an old trash can.  It actually appears to maybe be working, against all sense of reason and propriety. 

Well, something is growing in there.  Let's hope it's just potatoes.

And not Cthulhu.

Googling.

The Husband wishes that I point this out, so here goes:  Apparently, the most common search terms that bring people to this humble blog (apart from "life in the dessert"), are "philip glass el diablo," which is the second most-popular result on Google and takes you to this post.

For those of you who are now brought to this post:  Welcome!  The Husband would like you to know that he really likes Philip Glass.  I sometimes confuse Philip Glass with Sufjan Stevens (musically, not visually—they look very different), but I am getting much better at that.  Also, we saw his (Philip's, not Sufjan's) opera Satyagraha a little while ago and it was very good.  Especially if you watch it in a movie theater while eating quesadillas (me) and wearing sweatpants (The Husband).  I got a little sleepy during Act III, but I blame the quesadillas.

Also, for those of you looking for the actual exchange from The Simpsons (season 14, episode 18, Dude, Where's My Ranch, which is coincidentally where I first learned about Level 5 vegans), here you go:

David Byrne:

Excuse me, I've been researching indigenous music of Springfield and couldn't help but overhear your delightfully cruel hate song.

Carl:

David Byrne?

Moe:

Singer, artist, director, composer, Talking Head.

David Byrne:

And I used to wrestle under the name El Diablo.

Lenny:

I thought that was Phillip Glass.

David Byrne:

Yeah, he wishes.

Everybody hates Ned Flanders!  And now you know why I don't eat anything that casts a shadow.

2012: The Year of the Vegetable

...or at least the Year of the Carrot.

Yes, gentle readers, I have started off 2012 on an orange foot, having become enamored of a roast carrot salad that I have made —no joke— at least four times since the new year began, and I plan on making it again tonight.  Each time I've tweaked things slightly, but at its heart lies delicious, delicious carrots.  The Husband can tell you about how, after I first cooked these carrots, I wouldn't stop raving about them.  "They are the BEST carrots I've ever made," I'd swoon.  "Seriously: THE GREATEST."  I'd bring them up randomly, in conversations that had nothing to do with carrots or vegetables or food; The Husband would mention some depressing article he'd read, or start talking about something sports-related, and I'd chime in with "Remember those awesome carrots I made?  Man.  Good stuff."  I even started babbling about them to one of the vendors at the farmers' market, who seemed both intrigued and frightened.  When I eventually got around to making this salad for The Husband, he declared it to the best thing he's ever eaten, apparently supplanting the wee stuffed peppers of yesteryear.

The funny thing about this newfound infatuation is that I don't even like carrots.  I keep buying them because they are Good For Me, but then I usually just panic and never use them.  Apart from the odd grating in a salad, I can't eat them raw, and I can make only so much mirepoix for soup before life goes from souper to...OK, all I can come up with here is some variant of "pooper," which is too cheap a joke even for me, so feel free to substitute your own, invariably better, play on words, unless you are 11-years old, The Husband, or one of The Husband's friends, in which case, YOU'RE WELCOME that I sullied this fine blog with a lame poop joke.

The basic idea for these carrots comes from Jamie Oliver, whose method for cooking all manner of root vegetables (parboiling, then roasting) I have adopted wholeheartedly.  It also takes advantage of Arizona's glorious citrus season, which is currently kicking into gear and which I adore — as much I as love snow and cold weather, there is something sublime about walking home from the farmers' market, while enjoying 60º temperatures and a just-picked orange, in the middle of January.  Oh, PHX: you would be so much better if you were properly inhabitable for more than four months of the year!

To make the basic version of this salad, get yourself some good carrots; I like the short, stubby, pale orange ones that probably have a fancy name that I do not know, but any carrot would work (this cooking method also lends itself well to beets and I imagine things like parsnips and turnips as well).  Try to use carrots that are all roughly the same size, or cut them into equal-ish pieces, so that everything cooks more evenly.  Boil your carrots in some salted water until tender, probably 10 minutes or so, depending on size.  While the carrots are cooking, preheat the oven to 400ºF.

Also while the carrots are cooking, get started on making the carrot dressing.  In a mortar and pestle (or food processor), bash up a large pinch each of cumin seeds and black mustard seeds, along with a small pinch of salt and pinch of Aleppo pepper (or any dried chile) to taste.  Once those are finely ground, add a clove of garlic and a tablespoon of fresh thyme leaves, then mix up into a paste.  Pour in a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and a tablespoonish of vinegar (a light one, like white balsamic) and stir up.  Once the carrots are done, drain and dump into a large bowl.  While the carrots are still hot, pour in the dressing and mix, making sure all the carrots get nicely coated, then put everything into one side of a baking dish (making sure to get all of the flavorful dressing in as well).  In the other half of the tray, place a halved grapefruit, orange, or other sweetish citrus, then bang the whole thing into the oven to roast.  This should take another 10 minutes, but you know you're golden when the carrots start to brown and caramelize a bit.

While the carrots are in the oven, gather up the rest of the salad parts, which include:

• one handful of washed and drained arugula leaves
• one-half an avocado, coarsely diced
• two small slices of baguette (or other good, crusty bread) toasted/grilled and rubbed with a cut garlic clove, then torn into pieces

Once the carrots are done, leave them to cool and (carefully!) juice the roasted grapefruit/orange/whatever.  To the juice, add about an equal amount of olive oil and  a tablespoon of fruity honey, then mix.  (This will make FAR more dressing than you need, but it keeps well in the fridge in a closed container and is excellent on regular salads.)  Lightly dress the arugula, to taste, then place at the bottom of a bowl.  Add the avocado and carrots, and top with the garlic bread crisps.  Mix up, add more dressing if you like, and enjoy!

Later iterations benefited from the addition of goat cheese, toasted pepitas, pomegranate seeds, matchsticked black radishes, crispy cranberry beans, and/or red/black quinoa.  The main thing to keep in mind, here, is texture: the carrots and avocado will all have a very similar mouthfeel, so to keep things from getting too mushy, be sure to balance them out with toothsome foods, like the crispy bread or crunchy vegetables.

Also, I suppose 2012 could legitimately be considered Year of the Vegetable, because it is the year that I finally got around to attempting to grow some vegetables of my own.  The Door to Nowhere in our bedroom is guarded by a metal railing, from which I have hung several planters that may, Providence willing, become food.

I am only marginally optimistic about this, given the constraints of location and sunshine (our windows face the inner courtyard, which blocks a fair amount of sun: good at helping keep the apartment cool in the summer, but not-so-good for germinating seedlings), but we shall see what happens.

If nothing else, it gave me a good reason to go to Home Depot, which I love because all the tools and things make me feel super productive and like I could make anything.  Which would be true, if I actually had space for such things.

Like a house.  Not a one-bedroom apartment that I don't own and can't actually make changes to.

And with that, I leave you with the brilliant observation of Mr. Mitchell Hedberg:

I went to the Home Depot the other day, which was unnecessary... I need to go to the Apartment Depot, which is just a big warehouse with people standing around saying "hey, we ain't gotta fix shit!"

Renters, unite!


(Note: the faint red handprints along the side of the Door to Nowhere are not blood, nor were they left by ghosts of murdered children who haunt our apartment.  I hope.)