Here Comes the Sun… (Flowers)

(Du dn du du)
Here comes the Sun
And I say,
it’s alright.

Little darlin,
It’s been a cold and lonely winter.
Little darlin,
It seems like years since it’s been here.

Here comes the Sun (du dn du du),
Here comes the Sun
And I say,
It’s alright.
(Written by George Harrison, perfomed by The Beatles)

That was one of TC’s favorite songs. You’d often hear her singing it for no particular reason. She really dug the “du dn du du” part and would have us all singing along after the first chorus.

She also LOVED sunflowers; in fact our whole family has a bit of a Sunflower fetish now as a means of hanging onto TC. I treat myself to a bundle anytime I see them.

I have never, however, been able to grow my own. Try as I might, even when TC was alive and available to help me… never a seed did I sow.

TC always grew the best; tall, strong, maybe 10 inches across at the flower and they always appeared to have a smile on their faces. I’m pretty sure she sang to them every morning… du dn du du!

But THIS summer, I think I finally did her proud.

This is “TC’s Sunflower Garden” in my side yard.
I’m on pins and needles waiting to see if they’ll make it all the way to maturity.
I'm watering, weeding and have even waged a full-fledged assault on the cute little bunnies who like to eat them.

But I'm not sure that's quite enough.

So as of this morning,

with one up eye up toward the sky,
I’m singing to them too!

Here comes the Sun
Du dn du du.
Here comes the Sun
And I say
It’s alright!

If anyone out there knows where I could get a “garden sign” made, (I’m picturing something much more fantastic than I could make and it needs to be weather resistant), let me know.

Then “Tc’s Sunflower Garden” will be perfect!

"To discover what is abnormal…

it is first necessary to know what is normal."

Wow… that sentence could cover a lot of issues; behavior, relationships, habits, heck… even pizza crust!
But in this case, it’s referring to breast tissue and how it relates to breast cancer.

My friend Josie emailed me a few weeks ago to share her enthusiasm for all the good works being done in her home town of Indianapolis to help find the cure to breast cancer. She had participated that weekend as both a volunteer and donor for an event she thought I would also love to volunteer for if given the chance; The Susan G. Komen for the Cure Tissue Bank (KTB) at the IU Simon Cancer Center.

The way I understand it, in 2007, the IUSCC was awarded a $1,000,000 grant by the Susan G. Komen Foundation to help fund their collection of breast tissue from “healthy” women. By “healthy”, they mean without cancer. This was in response to action taken after a 2004 series of meetings in Indy of prominent scientific, medical, industry and advocacy communities. A cancer researcher attending those meetings surmised that a lack of normal breast tissue was a significant impediment to the success of her breast cancer research. It was quickly assumed by some in attendance that even if there was a mechanism for donation in place, and the (unlikely chance) that the review board would approve such a collection, the real question was, quite frankly, “what woman would donate healthy breast tissue?”

It was the advocates, led by Mrs. Connie Rufenbarger who challenged the naysayers by asserting “their unshakable belief that women would donate, they only needed to be asked”.

And answer they did; in just a few short years, the Susan G. Komen Foundation recognized their invaluable work and has supported it with grant monies ever since. Josie was one of those brave women who donated both time and tissue this past June 13th. KTB, she informed me a few days later, will be having another “Tissue Collection Event” on August 8th.

So little ol’ me and my friend Robin, whose own mother Lois is a breast cancer survivor, will board a plane to Indy on Friday August 7th. The KTB is particularly interested in people like Robin and I who are healthy but considered “high risk”. On Saturday they will give us what is equivalent to 3 needle biopsies and remove about two “pea size” amounts of breast tissue from each of us. Josie and her husband Ned will supply us with wine, fresh ice packs and I’m sure lots of laughs that evening before delivering us to the airport for an 8a.m. flight home.

I told Robin I’m a little nervous.
She told me she’s more than a little nervous.
But then I remember TC and my friend Dini’s brave faces every time they got poked, prodded, scanned and downright manipulated.
And I know…

“As a healthy woman, I can contribute to breast cancer research.”

So I will.


To find out how you can participate, go to: https://komentissuebank.iu.edu/home

Addendum (7/22/09)

Apparently my blog was passed on to the powers that be at KBT and I was thrilled to receive personal emails from both Dr. Jill Henry, the Chief Operating Officer who would like to pass it along to the Indy press! And the following words are from Connie Rufenbarger herself:

This just put the biggest smile on my face! It is so wonderful to see our passion shared by wonderful women. We all so want to change history--to not leave this legacy to our daughters. We thought we would find other women warriors--but you never know until it happens. At some point--all of us will be part of something even bigger--we are showing the Powers that Be that we can and will decide what level of giving of ourselves is appropriate. At the present--the ethicists and review boards are guiding our decisions/choices--our collective choice will help them to stand aside and let us make history in all diseases. Ok--I have to get off of my soap box. We are thrilled that you are all coming. Each event is a celebration. I got to do the fat core from my bum last time--since I have saline breasts it was the only way to get one of the pink t-shirts. What we will do for fashion!!!!
I am always on hyper drive at the events--just more excited than is natural--so--please come up and make me stand still and introduce yourself. We have all become great huggers!

How cool is that!!! cb

Elvis has left the building...

The (use your best Hispanic accent here…) “Car-ooosa” is no more.
The Landcruiser we affectionately called Elvis, got traded away today.

We were its second keepers, having bought it from our friend Scotty in Aspen almost 10 years ago.
No one can accuse the Baker’s of over consumerism, that’s for sure; this baby was a 1994.
And in it’s place, a 2007 Nissan Maxima.
We’re big believers in letting the other guy take that instant depreciation hit!

This picture makes me feel a little sad.
It’s the cruiser being driven away from us for the last time, with our new car in the background waiting to take its place.

Lots of good times were had in that truck, I wish I could count the laughs.
But I also remember moving to Texas and Aunt TC running along side it as we pulled away. She was just willing Jordie and Nick to stay behind; she didn't want to miss even one day of their growing up.
It’s also the truck that got us back to Kansas when her cancer came back.
And to countless doctors’ appointments too, I'm sure.

Most of our Sunday drives were taken in the cruiser.
Mikey’s propensity to find gravel roads in the middle of no-where made the decision on which vehicle of ours to take an easy one.
The Landcruiser was made for those rides; he’d often pull off road and 4-wheel to the kids delight.

It never left us stranded, never let us down.
These past couple of years in fact, we were probably less of a friend to it than it was to us.
I was less than gracious the few times Mike and I had to swap out cars for the day.
And Jordie… for being a 15 year old with a restricted license sure has some audacity to “refuse to be seen dead driving that thing”.
But I think when Mike’s boss bummed a ride to a meeting with him a few weeks ago Mikey finally realized this about the cruiser…

You ain’t nothin but a hound dog!

Rest in Peace Elvis.

Change has come to America...

Excerpt from today's inaugural speech:

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive ... that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Thank you. God bless you. And God bless the United States of America.

No Wine-ing

I dislike January.
A dreadful month for several reasons, though none more aggravating than this.
Mikey stops drinking on January 1st every year.
He calls it the Noah’s Ark diet and got the idea from our friend Frank.

40 days and 40 nights… no drinky-poo’s.
His New Year’s Eve birthday wraps up a 2 month holiday season of excessive eating and drinking, and then he abruptly stops.

Mike doesn’t do it because he has to, or even because he wants to.
He does it just to make sure he can!
Not a bad idea…
Unless you live with him.

We were at a party last weekend and I actually overheard someone say “You’re an asshole when you don’t drink”.
Hmmmm… no one ever says that to me.

This year, in the spirit of solidarity, I too have given up the hooch.
Although only for the month of January.
31 days is plenty in my book.

I’m halfway home; it’s day seventeen.
A snowy Saturday evening here, we’re hunkered down after a great meal.
But something is missing…
The simple enjoyment of a nice dry red.

Man do I love February.