It’s been a long time since I’ve posted here.

I’m busy these days. Our lives here in Bellingham are unfolding in wonderful ways. And honestly, diabetes has mostly been on the periphery lately. We’re enjoying the summer weather with its cool pacific breezes and tolerating the odd hot day. We’ve had visitors and we’re having more in September. I’ve been learning a new way of painting. Days pass, and I don’t think much about diabetes. I do what I have to do, and move on.

But diabetes is still there. It’s there. No matter what. One day a few weeks ago I woke up and realized it’s been my constant companion for the last 6 years. And that felt really sad.


2009 is upon us. Daniel’s 32, and I’m 29. We’re beginning to look into adoption, we’re looking into possibly getting a house this year or next, we’re looking ahead to many changes. It’s exciting, and frightening, and feels just right. 

Today at Thanksgiving dinner we read this meditation from Elizabeth M. Strong. We edited it slightly to fit our own circumstances. I’m reprinting it here because I feel it fits our diabetic community as well, and reflects a portion of the gratitude I feel for all of you.

Let us rejoice for the families who have gathered this Thanksgiving to express their thanks and to celebrate the bounty of their lives. 

Let us join together in support of those whose families are far away, with distances in many forms.

Let us hold one another in gentle reverence this holiday of Thanksgiving for we are here to celebrate and to be thankful for what we have.

We have had life newborn among us this year that will carry our legacy into the future.

We have had death among us this year that has given us tears of sorrow and yesterdays to remember.

We have had illnesses, accidents, and surgeries among us this year that have reminded us of the fragileness of our lives.

We have had marriages, reunions, reconciliations. And, we have had, and still do have, our homes, where we come together in love and compassion.

For all these things, we give thanks this day.

I had a CT scan on Monday to monitor the progress of my lung cavity (which came from Valley Fever). There was a time when the cavity was growing… each CT showing it a little bigger. Then it began to shrink instead, which was a major relief. And I just got the results from Monday’s CT this afternoon… and my lung cavity is GONE! All that remains is a little scarring. I am so, so excited. It’s been a long and uncertain road, and the relief that I feel today, and the relief that Daniel feels, is amazing.

With diabetes, though it is undeniably hard, I had some idea of what I needed to do to manage it and what I could expect in the future, good or bad. With Valley Fever I had none of that, and not knowing and feeling out of control was very difficult. 

I still have Valley Fever and will always have it, but for now it seems that I am free of active symptoms and active disease. And that’s so incredibly wonderful.

Before I stop posting political things, I want to express my deep sorrow at the passing of proposition 8 in California, and similar measures in Arizona and Florida. Arkansas also passed a measure banning unmarried couples from being adoptive or foster parents.

Love isn’t about laws. It just isn’t. And this isn’t right.

I am so, so excited.

This month I have a few printmaking things to get done, specifically 2 shows I want to submit to. One of them is a Breast Cancer Awareness show that’s local, and I’m pleased to be involved as breast cancer is a part of my family’s medical history and although I don’t know my own medical history, it’s an important consideration for women of all ages. (Update: I didn’t end up entering this, but still support the cause!!)

Other than printmaking, our lives seem to be suddenly filling up. Summer was slow and glorious, and now that there are cloudy days and bright leaves and kids in school clothes, my calendar has become a bit crowded. So far, I love it. It was such a strange thing to have so much of last winter taken up by Valley Fever, and it feels good to be building a life and community here in Bellingham.

And the leaves are changing. It’s not quite the amazing color of the street where I grew up, where every tree was that transparent yellow-orange that seems to burn in even the slightest bit of sunlight, but it’s wonderful in its own way. And the smell of woodsmoke and pencil shavings, and the sharpness in the night air, and the cool ocean breezes… I feel like a kid again, ready to be thrown by my dad into a six foot pile of crunchy leaves. Ready to put on my brown Mary Janes and kneesocks and head off for school.

This past weekend was our church retreat in Canada, and Daniel and I had such a nice time. To speak to people you had known on the surface, and to suddenly find each other to be so much more than you had imagined… to look at each other then as you might look at a familiar field, when, for the first time after years of broken soil and the brittle yellow ends of dead grass, it grows over in thick profusion with the hopeful red cups of poppies.

So, last Sunday, on their way back from Vancouver, Manny and his wife Andreina and his son Santiago stopped by Bellingham for a little visit! It was great to meet them in person. We met at Boulevard Park, where Santiago had a great time on the pirate ship playground, and we had time for a stroll down the boardwalk before they had to head back south. It was a clear, warm September day, with just a hint of coolness in the air, and Daniel and I really were glad to have the chance to meet such smart, funny, creative people who are so active in our diabetes community. A big thanks to both of them for all they do.

Andreina gave me a beautiful print, shades of green with botanical shapes, and I love it!  You should all go check out her art.

I’ve been a bad blogger. I know that. I also know that as the skies cloud over and the rains come, I’ll be a better blogger. But I do read the blogs in the Diabetes Daily feeds, and I am thinking of all of you. I think I just needed a break from thinking too much about diabetes, and what better time to take one than when the sun is shining!


It’s been a while. A long while. And I’m sorry about that. While I know that blogging only works as long as you have something to say, I wish I’d updated this sooner. Not much has happened here that seemed like something to write about, but I have been busy. First, I got the etching press, which is a heck of a way to lose days out of your schedule. Then, I was working on a print for submission to a show and had to scurry to get it done. Then, my husband’s parents visited. Then, my parents visited. All this visiting (which was wonderful, don’t get me wrong) took truly the entire month of June, and I’m only just starting to feel like my life is mine again. 

And then there’s the issue of summer in the northwest. Specifically, the sun. It’s out! And as a result, I want to be out, too. We bike, we walk, we wander. We bask. And where in cloudier months I may have had a paragraph or two to say about the things that happen in my life, I’m left wordless. Which is fine by me. 
Some photos. 




She’s the pilot 🙂