We have been very productive

HRH got the bike out on Easter for her first day of training. Then she hauled me out to the gym yesterday. In the meantime, CaDiva and I have booked both the Officiant and Venue. We have appointments with the bridal boutique for my dress and to meet the photographer.

We looked at rings today and actually thought we had one picked out, but it only came in a men's size 12. I think we need to check a few more jewelry counters. HRH is certain we should "secret shopper" several bakeries for wedding cakes and sweets. She also seems to believe we need both Jordan almonds and butter mints. She is not so specific regarding the limo, only that we shall have one. What can I say? She is the Midwest Matron of Honor and apparently in charge.

Today, we took CaDiva to the radiology oncologist to be fitted for a head basket and face mask and we hope to start her treatment next week. For future reference, plastering an asthmatic's face closed is not likely to end well. This is especially true if they suggest I wait in the lobby.

 I should have followed my own best instincts and stayed with her. After all, if your head is trapped in a mesh cage designed to limit your chin movement and they fold some sort of polymer over your nose just days after you finally show signs of getting over a chest cold, it is kind of hard to get people to hear and understand your demand to GO GET MiIDIVA, NOW! They did finally grasp the concept that her inhaler that was in her purse, in my possession.  But, by that time, she was pretty well out of air and very distressed.

Well, lesson learned. I can wait in the hallway. I can be in the room. I can stand at the foot of the table. But those are their only choices.

I'm afraid HRH has plans to take me to the gym again tomorrow. And sometime this week, I have to show her how to post comments on this blog. It strikes me I may end up regretting that bit. And maybe the former as well.

We need to get a plan -

It is Thursday, the last week of April. We have to kill Murgatroyd, do Ragbrai, host the family, throw a wedding, and drive through New England to the Atlantic Ocean between now and Columbus day. We have an appointment with the radiology oncologist, dress maker, photographer and venue. That's pretty good.

But you haven't seen the media room, or my bedroom. I am going to have to hang that curtain rod I bought two years ago to hang the green valance I found at the Highway 141 sale two years ago. Why in the world did I buy a green curtain when I have red carpeting? Oh, that's right, it will bring out the color in my picture of Multnomah Falls I got for my birthday when CaDiva and I visited the Sunday market in Astoria, Oregon. It was a surprise. I walked clear to the back of the open stall of the photographer and hummed a happy tune while CaDiva negotiated for the over-sized color print on canvas. But I digress.

HRH is playing with some other friends Saturday, so next week is the first opportunity to register for Ragbrai or to look at the interesting bicycle she saw. Maybe we'll go looking for a bed on which our niece will sleep when she comes to town on August? That would be more fun than cleaning, but at some point that will have to happen too.

We still need a cake, and invitations, and a limousine. CaDiva said perhaps we should just go to the bakery and buy one of their champagne cakes to bring home. That wouldn't be a bad thing. It is, after, research. That wouldn't be the same thing as eating empty calories. Perhaps we can eat cake after cleaning something?

We could work on our ceremony workbook. We need to figure out what our ceremony should sound like. And then we could eat a bit of cake.

HRH will have to describe what counts as a limousine by her standards. I hope it isn't the HummerII. We could go look on the way to the bakery.

CaDiva needs to order the wedding favors. Oh, and the butter mints. I wonder if we could get them at the bakery?

Definitely going to be a busy weekend. And then, a nice piece of cake.

Oh, Bless all the powers that be and my world of sisters

CaDiva has Non-Hodgkin Folicular Lymphoma. That is a given. It is as close to a chronic form of cancer as you can get. Everyone says, if you are going to get cancer, Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma is the way to go. First time around, we had four masses, Huey, Dewey, Louie and Claudette. And we smote them with the thunderous power of a righteous outrage. And for five years, we were in full remission. Then Murgatroyd reared his ugly head. Just in the inside of her left eye. We got our soldiers all lined up. The medical professionals we needed, our family, friends, and every powerful woman we know sending up any spare karma she had. Well, after exams, photos, biopsies, PET/CT scans and four different doctors, we heard today that Murgatroyd is a friendless, only child. He is eminently treatable with radiation. And we have the name and an appointment to meet with the Doctor who is going to melt his ugly little ass into oblivion.

Not only that, but we met with the woman who is going to perform our wedding ceremony and she is completely in tune with our thoughts. And she is a lifelong friend of the photographer we wanted but couldn't get. So between CaDiva e-mailing the venue and trying to ignore her pending doctor visit, the photographer called. She said the officiant, her dear friend, told her to cancel whatever it was she had conflicting with our wedding, because she absolutely HAD to photograph our wedding.

So, we have someone writing our ceremony. We are meeting with the radiology oncologist and signing the vendor contract on Monday. The next Saturday we get to find my dress and then meet the photographer the Monday after that. And they are doing a live stage show on Nashville tonight. And the woman I love is going to be hale and hardy by June.

My life is so good. I have so many of you to thank. If you think I owe you thanks, that means I am thinking your name right now and thank you.

Well the Summer to end all Summers Begins

CaDiva and I are scheduled to see the oncologist tomorrow. Have I mentioned that her Non-Hodgkin Folicular Lymphoma flared up? Well, it did. We named this one Murgatroyd. We are going tomorrow to ensure he is a friendless, only child, doomed to a swift radioactive melt-down.

On the other hand, HRH texted me a picture of a bicycle she found for me. It is an actual "girl's" bike. Which means I wouldn't have to get these creaky old hips to swing a leg over the back of a bicycle seat. Of course we haven't discussed getting this slightly lowered, definitely enriched, backside onto that seat.

Tonight we went to meet with an officiant. That is what you apparently call the person who performs your wedding when you aren't a church member and don't know a justice of the peace. In any case, we liked her a great deal. We visited with her for almost 90 minutes just so she could get an idea of what our wedding ceremony would include. We came back with homework. She gave us a book designed to help you plan your wedding. The worksheets help us tick off parts of the wedding ceremony and select a style. We will send that to her and she will begin writing a ceremony unique to CaDiva and I.

So, radiation treatment, writing wedding ceremony, Ragbrai, clean and organize house for company, and wedding. Yeppers, this is going to be one hellacious summer.

HRH begins her Training

Yesterday was a very pretty day but it was also the neighborhood scrub day. CaDiva and I pulled out some old records to shred. We also had to dispose of a box of ancient software, an old printer, and some stuffed animals snagged from claw machines over a period of time (although that is an entirely different post). HRH, as usual, showed us up by disposing of old railroad ties, spikes included, a non-functioning PS-1 and enough other things to fill her daughter's (AKA mother of  little hrh) RAV4.

We were able to talk her into coming to lunch with us (with little hrh, of course) at Red Robin. Since Mohrh  had to roll a motorcycle ride into her day following the scrub drop off, HRH was "forced" (yeah, right) to spend the lovely near 80 degree day outdoors playing with little hrh instead of bicycling. But on this gray and windy Easter Sunday, she started to prepare for RAGBRAI. She is, as usual, showing off.

Now, CaDiva and I spent the remainder of Saturday making appointments to shop for wedding dresses, and locate officiants and photographers. We looked for bakeries but that is so hard on line. The good news is we have an officiant, an appointment at a wedding gown boutique, but the photographer we picked is not available. OK, back to the drawing board. I'll shop for photographers while CaDiva roasts the leg of lamb.

Since the stadium caters the food for the wedding, CaDiva won't have to cook then. But, HRH has been insisting we must "craft" something. I have told her I  neither craft nor use yard art. CaDiva waffles a bit on the crafting. Ok, not so much waffling as caves in like a California hillside over a sinkhole during a four-day rainstorm. She is firm on yard art though. Well, except for the plant holder tricycle HRH got us for Christmas which she has already fitted with a pot and plans for pansies.

Since the wedding is at a ball park, we must serve peanuts and crackerjacks. So HRH and CaDiva are plotting how to turn the sugar-laden prize boxes into something to memorialize our special day. I will be in charge of refilling ice tea glasses and trying to finish CaDiva's afghan.

This reads like a to-do list. I have got to get back into writing. I'm working on it folks, keep reading. I'll see if I get better.

I didn't tell you about last year at all and now this year is getting busy

OK, HRH rode two days in RAGBRAI last year, into and out of Des Moines. She finished both days, although she said some very rude words about the hills leading up to the mile long bridge. This year she is riding three days and the route is on the northern tier of Iowa counties. We took a hotel in Minnesota, so we can sleep comfortably in between days of riding. In August CaDiva and I will get married. In October we are planning a driving tour through the fall colors in New England. But, between now and all of that, we have to kick Non-Hodgkin Folicular (Mucusal) Lymphoma's butt again.

I hope I can get my act together and keep you all up to date as this summer swims along. You have to keep me honest and force me to write.