a light has gone out of my life

Grandma--top right--with her mother and kids (there's my mom with the black hair!)

This week, my grandmother lost her battle to pancreatic cancer. Some of you might remember briefly hearing about this back in October, when we first found out and still hoped it'd been caught early enough.

Given that this is not exactly the best place to disclose too many details, I won't go much into her last few weeks. Suffice it to say that while she was indeed in a lot of pain and spent a lot of time sad or afraid, she still actively maintained a positive attitude and never wanted anyone else to worry about her. For awhile, I invented different flavors of smoothies to bring her, and when she was still eating, she requested a lot of baked goods. I practically sprinted home every night to make her whatever she asked for, but she didn't end up actually finishing a whole lot of it.

There's been a lot of grief. I would even admit that most of it probably hasn't hit me in full force yet. However, my grandma wasn't the kind of lady who wanted anyone to dwell on unhappiness. Having said that, I think anyone reading this deserves to know exactly what kind of woman she was.

My grandmother always said her greatest hope was to see her daughters and granddaughters grow up to be ladies who also knew when to curse like sailors.

She always had enough food in her kitchen for anyone who was visiting--and if she didn't, she practically teleported to the nearest Asian market to go get some more.

She was a banging mother. I'm not even remotely doing her justice here, but she spent years as a single, hardworking mom with four kids in a country that wasn't hers--and she refused help from her well-off relatives because (in her words) she was too proud and wanted to make her life herself.

She was always running around in her little trademark straw fedoras. For her birthday one year, Marcus and I each bought her new ones. Jesus, she loved those hats. If it wasn't hats, it was colorful hair clips. Accessorizing runs in the family.

She was an unbelievably strong lady. Her life reads like a damn Univision soap opera, except all of it actually happened. She went through some serious adversity. I would even argue she was still going through a lot of it before cancer even became present in her life. I never heard her being negative or down on herself--she waved everything off and said it wasn't worth the fuss.

She said I had her face, and she loved that. She always called me her mini-me to anyone she introduced me to. After she did, my mom said "you have so much of her in you" and cried.

She was unbelievably crass. Seriously, appearance-wise, she fit the textbook definition of a sweet old Spanish grandmother, but the things that came out of her mouth were insane. I couldn't get enough. She somehow managed to relate to everyone because she never acted like she was above them--she had the raunchy vocabulary to prove it, too.

My grandma was universally compassionate and loving. She could make anyone feel like the most important person in the world to her--and so many people adored her. She had so much room in her heart for everyone, and it would be arrogant to assume you came first in her life because of it. We never minded, of course--knowing anyone, much less a person you're related to, who has that much capability to love, is an incredible gift. I don't care how many people thought of her as their grandma even if they weren't related to us. She probably felt just like one, and I love that. 

She knew everyone. Seriously. If she didn't, she at least found common ground with them. I can't tell you how many times we'd be grocery shopping when she ran into someone with an accent she recognized. She'd proceed to engage them in Tagalog and carry on a full, enthusiastic conversation. She had connections out the wazoo, and I finally just decided to go through life assuming she did know everyone in our immediate proximity rather than not.

We used to fight about the way I wanted to dress. I remember clearly, for my first homecoming dance, I just wanted to wear a conservative dress with sleeves, and in the middle of Kohl's, we had an argument about it. "No granddaughter of mine is going to a school dance dressed like that!" she declared, waving the sequined, strappy, ass-grazing number she favored for me instead. "You're going to show off what you've got, young lady! If you've got it, you'd better flaunt it!" I can almost guarantee very few similar arguments have ever occurred between a grandmother and a granddaughter. This continued until I came into myself over the years and eventually transitioned into a style I felt more comfortable in (which now includes a lot of printed dresses). 

Following that, in her last few weeks, she'd always want to be touching me or my clothing. I got into the habit of wearing her favorite dresses, then laying down next to her. From her little bed, she'd play with the patterns on my tights or dresses and smile for an hour at a time.

I could go on for hours about the things that made this woman someone I was lucky to be able to grow up near. So much of who I am is because of her. I probably can't even begin to guess how many people in the world consider themselves lucky to know her.

It hasn't hit me all the way yet. The hole in my life no longer being filled by her presence feels like a dream to me still. I keep thinking that if I just dial her phone number, she'll answer me like always.

I can't say when this is going to become more of an immediate reality to me. I've never experienced a death of a loved one before, and this was kind of like losing my queen in the beginning of a chess game. There's never going to be a way to replace her--not that I'd ever want to.

I only hope I was able to do her justice and appreciate her enough while she was here. I let her know all the time how much I loved her and wanted to be near her, but somehow I still wonder if it was enough.

If she was sitting here, she'd probably have smacked me in the arm by now, rolled her eyes, and told me to stop it already.

Jesus, we all loved her so much.

The hospice worker told us to say "see you later" instead of "goodbye", because we had every reason to believe we'd see her again someday. I don't know where I stand on that, but I sincerely hope it's true, because I'd give anything to have her back.

Wherever she is, I hope she's unimaginably happy. Someone like her deserves nothing less.

on the move

yellow skirt - Forever 21 (old)

royal blue shirt - Loft

red cardigan - Target (old)

argyle tights - Ross

boots - Steve Madden Troopa Boots

I started off channeling my inner Snow White, and somehow ended up thinking about life and the concept of "home". 

It is challenging to be content with where you are when you don't want to be there. My family moved to Arizona almost a decade ago, and in truth I've never much liked it here. It was a striking change from the city of Caracas, where we had been living for almost three years. There was a significant amount of political unrest occurring at the time, and the military found it necessary to send some of the personnel stationed at the embassy back to the States for awhile. Through some process I know very little about, we ended up in Tucson for a few months while things calmed down. When our tour in South America was over, we moved briefly to California and then straight back to Arizona. In my time here, I've lived all over the state, going as far north as Flagstaff. (That was my favorite, but it was built around the college and the general consensus is that it's quite boring if you're not actually going to school there.) 

I am very much of the belief that you are a product of your environment. Growing up in the service has shaped my perspective to be ready to move on after a few years of being in one place. Imagine being on standby for nearly ten years after a lifetime of that! Going up to Flagstaff for college helped briefly, but in my heart I know I need to be doing more than that. Many of the people I've met here seem to enjoy the desert and are content to stay here, and I've struggled for the latter half of my life to make peace with it. Anyone who knows me is familiar with my incessant griping about why I do not wish to be here. It's a difficult balance to keep--I certainly don't want to offend anyone's home by going on about why I don't particularly care for it, but I also can't bring myself to feel enthused about it the way they are.

Now there are rumors surfacing within my home of a near-future move across the country. If moving back overseas is my first choice, relocating East is a close second. I cannot describe how excited I am at the prospect of being someplace like that. The circumstances are less than ideal, but my family seems to be ready to say their farewell to Arizona. While there are still some months yet before this will take place, I find myself eagerly looking forward and trying to actively find ways to be appreciative of this place while I'm still here at the same time. 

Most days, I feel like a very demanding rosebush--you can plant me in the desert if you're really determined to, but no matter what you do I'm probably never going to grow as happily or naturally as a cactus would. I respect that this is home to some people, but for me, it never will be. Truthfully, I can't say whether I'll ever establish roots anyplace; I'm happiest on the move. 

I can't wait to be on my way.

long time, no sea!

(Sorry, I had to. It's been a long week, and I enjoy puns far too much to ever let something like that go.)

Today was my first go using the new tripod. Marcus was nice enough to sit at the park reading his book while I twirled around on the bridge and tried not to fall into the lake. I was so excited to finally wear my new dress! Lately, I've noticed myself gravitating more and more toward longer skirts. For awhile, I wouldn't wear anything longer than your standard Forever 21-length dresses, so it's sort of interesting how much that's changing. As someone with a stature of only about 5'3, this is slightly alarming because anything below the knee tends to be hit or miss for me. If a skirt falls past my calves, there's a good chance it wasn't meant for me (or it was, and just I need to find myself a tailor!)

Luckily, I don't think this particular dress is going to need any kind of alterations. I'm very fond of how long it is even though it originally took some getting used to. It's very pretty in person (runs a full size small, though!), and as anyone who knows me is well aware, I'll take any nautical garments I can get my hands on. This was a welcome addition to my collection. I'd been after it since I first discovered Modcloth, but it recently went on a flash sale and I finally decided to quit fawning over it online and just get the thing already. Now I just need to find a way to help transition it into colder weather...I'm thinking white tights and some ankle boots, but given that the dress is long and full, I'm not sure how well that's going to translate. We'll see!

Experimenting with the tripod will hopefully be a fruitful endeavor. Now that I don't have to balance my giant camera on tabletops anymore, a lot of doors have been opened in terms of where and when I can take pictures. I love browsing other people's photography for ideas--it's one of those hobbies I think a lot of people have common ground on. Pictures are just fun to take! Personally, I'm a fan of playing with colors. I can't wait to take this thing out for a spin downtown or to the mountains when I go visit my brother. It'll probably come with me to Seattle, too, although I'm not sure how effective it will be to set up shop in the middle of Pike's Place. I got enough odd looks as it is from the occasional jogger this afternoon--I don't think my confidence is quite ready for anything more just yet!

Dress: Modcloth - Sea Shanty Singing Dress
Red flats: Old Navy
Bow: Made by me! 

Oh, yes, and Marcus joined me for a picture after I finished. Fun story: he originally wanted to try recreating the World War II sailor picture, only he wanted to be the one getting dipped. We tried twice, and the resulting photos looked like I was trying to assault him. Also, I kept dropping him. For future reference, I'm not a reliable foundation if you want to be dipped or dunked or otherwise tilted towards the ground.

We still had fun, though, even though we mutually agreed to never try to get into team Olympic figure skating.

:)

on autumn and teaching

This morning, Marcus came along with me to my school's Fall Festival. My kids were going to be performing, and I'd told my teacher I would help them get on stage and stay in line. Also--let's be real, who doesn't want to watch a bunch of three-year-olds wave colorful scarves around and sing This Little Light of Mine? 

First of all, my kids looked adorable. They were all wearing jeans and white shirts, but most of the boys had been put into button-downs and had their hair all combed. So handsome! One of my little girls was even complete with a giant white bow and stylish little boots like her mom's. 

By the way, that's my other favorite part of going to events. It's priceless seeing kids with their parents and watching them interact. I get a kick out of seeing who looks like who and what their individual dynamics are. I told Marcus today that I felt way better about my job after going to the Fall Festival because, hey, guess what? A lot of these kids don't even want to listen to their own parents 100% of the time! That means I have no reason to feel incompetent if I can't always get them to focus or stop screaming or cooperate with the activities we're doing--of course, I'm always trying, but it was something of a relief to realize that I wasn't just awful at my job. The other thing I felt better about was being frustrated--I love my kids. I do. They've only been with me for just shy of a month, and I treat them like they're my own a lot of the time. Sometimes, though, when I'm trying to manage all sixteen of them and they all want to run around and climb on top of everything and break their toys, I find myself getting a little impatient--and I always feel too hard on them when I put them in time-out or scold them. Watching them with their parents made me realize that that's a normal part of raising kids--and there's not really anything wrong with feeling frustrated or upset as long as you don't take it out on them or do anything too extreme. (I always feel bad and let them leave the chair after two minutes anyway--they're three, nobody's committing credit card fraud or arson here!) 

Anyway, my kids did great. A lot of them sort of lost focus halfway through the song, and one of my boys yelled, "I SEE A PLANE!" mid-performance. Still, it was really clear how proud all of their parents and teachers were. They were able to stay in their line, and nobody ran off! (Going off how the rehearsal went the other day, that's a huge accomplishment!) 

After they all dispersed with their families, Marcus and I walked around to look at the booths. Some of the vendors were really impressive--we had these huge horses walking around the fairground and everything. Most of the games and prizes were geared towards the kids, but we still had fun watching. We also bought a a shaved ice to share--we tried half blue raspberry, half tiger's blood. My favorite part of that was ordering, because Marcus said, "Can we do part of it with tiger's blood--and can the other half just be Hawaiian?" I nudged him and whispered, "It's not a flavor, it's just called Hawaiian shaved ice." He thought about it for a second and said, "oh, they're all Hawaiian! I guess just blue raspberry then!" 

We got to be the first customers at the booth, which seemed to make the people working there happy because they mentioned that nobody had come by yet and they were getting pretty bored. We promised that we'd walk around with our shaved ice and make a huge deal out of it so more people would come by, and they both laughed--but it ended up actually happening! We were enjoying our treat and a family walked by and said, "oh, wow! Look at that, let's go get one!" 

I also got to wear my new pie dress that I've been fawning over all year. One more in my size finally came in on Modcloth, and you better believe I snatched that up the minute I saw it. I'm wearing it now. I actually don't want to take it off anytime in the near future. A lot of people I work with commented on how festive it looked. I love working at a school--everyone appreciates fun prints! 

Dress: My Kind of Pie Dress - Modcloth

Cardigan: Charter School Cardigan - Modcloth

Shoes: Old Navy

Bow: Made by me! 

Purse: Fossil 

Next time we're going to try something a little more traditional, like caramel apples!

Also, for some reason, this picture really thrilled him.

So, needless to say, this is becoming more of a viable career option for me. My teacher's been talking to me about some international opportunities I might look into, and I guess we'll see what happens! Who knew that I'd end up falling into teaching? When I met her husband today, he said, "my wife loves you. She's always talking about how capable you are--she says for this kind of job you need to have the heart for it, and everyone thinks you really do." 

I wouldn't have believed you if you'd told me a year ago that that was one of the nicest things I'd ever hear. I don't think I stopped smiling after that!

I'm going to try to get better about posting, because all of a sudden there's a ton to say! Be warned, I think a lot of it is going to end up revolving around teaching and my preschoolers--oh, and probably dresses? I'm just going out on a limb here.

:) 

the beginning of october

1. My brother turned fifteen. He's diabetic, so I tried making up a cake that was acceptably sweet that my mother would also let him eat. I came up with a sugar-free box mix for Devil's Food Cake, sugar-free chocolate pudding to add to it, strawberry frozen yogurt in between the layers and fat-free whipped topping mixed with cocoa powder for the frosting. The entire thing was placed in the freezer and became a diabetic-friendly ice cream cake. Tommy has since requested about five more.

2. We had one of our first date nights in awhile. Marcus is becoming a sushi person. I'm really proud of how far he's come in terms of culinary adventurousness. Would you believe I could never get him to eat anything besides plain pizza or chicken nuggets?

3. Surprise--another sweet experiment for Tommy's benefit. My mom won't ever let him order anything from Starbucks because of the sugar, but he loves the strawberries and cream blended drinks. After spending awhile sulking about it, he gave up on asking for them anymore. I was playing with smoothie ideas and decided to try replicating the drink with strawberry frozen yogurt, almond milk and some canned whipped cream. He's deemed it acceptable and asks for these special drinks most nights now.

4. I ordered this beautiful dress from eBay--I really am coming to love Bernie Dexter's designs. This dress is a particular favorite of mine because it combines Tudor roses with a vintage silhouette. Unfortunately, when my package finally arrived it contained the wrong dress. It's currently on its way back, so I'll update you when my other one gets here!

5. My hair is getting long enough to play with a little bit more. I dyed it brown after something like five years of keeping it auburn. I like it better so far, and now I'm just anxiously awaiting more growth so I can experiment with my curls instead of settling for keeping it up all the time.

6. I started a new job (more on that later), and while I was hunting for important work-related documents in my garage I found this little jar I made for my mom in first grade. We have it on the fireplace now--I used to be really annoyed that she never ate the chocolates I put inside. When I found this and showed it to her and my aunt, my aunt exclaimed, "of course! No mom wants to compromise a present like that by eating the candy inside!"

7. I may have also finally gotten my hands on the long-awaited skeleton dress. It glows in the dark and I am in love with the collar. I need to get better at getting real outfit pictures instead of just the ones I use my phone for in the mirror. The full effect is usually a lot more fun! It came just in time for October to start, but I'm thinking I'll be breaking this out even when Halloween is over.

8. In my moments of free time, I occupy myself by rearranging things and keeping the house clean. Our pantry used to look like a tornado had hit it. We buy from the bulk bin at Sprouts for snacks, and somehow the food always stays inside those plastic bags. Nobody could find anything! I finally got impatient and made a trip to Target for several mason jars. The snacks ended up in the jars, and now we can see how much food we actually have. Thank God. (We have pea soup now, too.)

9. We've had family popping in and out for almost a month. I really enjoy watching my mom and aunt together. She's supposed to be coming back next week, so I'm excited to see her again even if the circumstances aren't ideal.

Finally, I'm sure everyone (meaning all two of you) are curious about how my grandmother is doing. She has her on and off days, but she's coming home soon. We don't really know what will happen from there, but anyone who's met my grandma knows she isn't about to go down without fighting.

We love her tons, and, as evidenced in this particular favorite photo of mine, we're all cut from the same cloth as she is. 

In the meantime, I hope things get better. Some family members have really come through, and others have revealed themselves to be largely unsupportive. Strange how these times show you everyone's true colors, isn't it? The family drama has been so insane I could probably write a soap opera about it and retire from the income. 

Well, for now I think we'll just focus on the positives. Within a week or two, my grandmother should be home! We'll just go from there. 

baking and coping

It's been a very long couple of days.

Last night, I was in the middle of cooking dinner while my mom was on the phone. We were having gyros, and I was just browning the rest of the meat in the pan. My mom was on the phone with my grandmother, who we'd dropped off at the hospital a bit earlier for what everyone assumed to be kidney stones. I wasn't really paying attention until I heard my mom's tone change. She waved me over and started writing in the notebook she was using for schoolwork. I suddenly got the strangest feeling and really didn't want to see what she was trying to tell me. I think in a really odd way I probably knew, so I finally just looked down.

"She has pancreatic cancer."

Since then, everything has felt sort of like a dream. Both of my brothers reacted very strongly when we told them. I was the one who called Jack up at college, since my mom had her hands full telling everyone else. I just listened while he started crying and answered his questions in the best way I could at the time. I'm wondering why I didn't really feel anything aside from a very brief sense of dread. I think I decided not to accept it, then I just went back to cooking dinner. 

That's just what I've been doing ever since. Cooking might actually be all I'm good for in a time of crisis. 

I feel very tired. I don't know why. I haven't really done anything to be tired from. 

Today, we were given a little bit more information. It looks like stage four, but the doctor thinks there could be success with treatment. My grandmother sounds really good, and I'm going to be seeing her tomorrow night. Actually, it was sort of funny, because I've been practicing baking new things lately, and before she left for the hospital she hadn't gotten to eat anything. When I told her about what I was making, she complained that she'd be missing out but to save some for her. Unfortunately, because she ended up staying longer than we thought she would, she didn't get to try any of the food. Last night, I tried making donuts for the first time with considerable success. My mom saved one and brought it to my grandma at the hospital where she works this morning. Later, I got a message from my grandma with a picture of her happily eating the donut. Apparently, she wasn't supposed to eat it and some of the tests they were supposed to do got delayed as a result, but she was completely pleased with herself about it and said she didn't regret it at all. 

That's basically my grandmother in a nutshell. 

I love her very much and I'm not ready to lose her just yet, so we're all going to fight this together. 

And we'll fuel her efforts with plenty of these. I guess she actually really enjoys donuts. I had no idea, because I've never seen her eat one. 

These turned out really nice the second time around. The secret is cake flour, which I was surprised about. I had always heard that you could use all-purpose for anything and that "specialized" flour was a way of making more money off the same product. Actually, I would never go back to all-purpose for donuts. I'm actually thinking of trying some of my other recipes, like those scones, with cake flour to see if it makes a difference. This batch was so springy and fluffy, I couldn't wait to tell someone about it.

Now, grandma can have some of the good cake-flour donuts, since they should be all finished with her tests by the time we go visit. I think she'll enjoy them much more than the ones from yesterday, which were made of white and whole wheat flour. They tasted fine, but the consistency was way too dense for them to feel like real donuts. Cake flour is where it's at, you guys.

I think this is my way of coping. It's not conventional, but at least it's sort of cheering everyone up since there's always food around. We'll see what happens next. I'm hoping very badly for some good news in the next few days.

I want my grandmother around to eat donuts and scones with me for awhile longer. That's not too much to ask, I don't think.

adventures in baking

You guys.

German chocolate cake.

My mom's really sweet friend (whose babies I watch all the time!) is a baker, and she mentioned that she loves German chocolate. For her birthday, I'm having my mom take along this cake to her work. It was a really fun cake to make, for anyone who's looking for new culinary experiments. I'd never made this type of frosting before, and this was actually my first try making cake from scratch. (Before that, I suppose I'd only done cookies, pies, scones and the occasional lemon bar! All of those are fun in their own ways, but the specific recipes I'd used for them didn't rely so heavily on getting the baking aspect right.)

Did you know there are about seven thousand ways to mess up a cake?

I only had one pan, so I baked a layer at a time. The first one slid out beautifully, and I felt a sense of great satisfaction at having managed such a smooth landing. This abruptly changed when I tried to flip the cake back over later for frosting. I'd put it on a plate too soon, and it had gradually melted--so a huge chunk ripped out of the top! I was furious--and angrily ate up the pieces that I couldn't salvage. Luckily, they were only crumbs. I was able to carefully re-position the broken pieces and cover them up with a little extra frosting. Nobody really has to know. ;)

The frosting was actually my favorite part to make. I was very curious to see how the ingredients were supposed to magically turn into a thick caramel icing, since my last couple of attempts at this had turned out less than stellar. Powdered sugar is hit or miss, it seems. This was a unique method, as it required cooking the ingredients in a saucepan until they thickened up. I had to taste it a few times just to make sure it was coming out right, of course. (To be extra certain, I dunked some of the crumbs deemed unworthy of being included in the cake into the icing. After all, every experimental baker knows that you have to get an idea of the full effect! That's what I tell myself, anyway.)

Maybe baking isn't for me after all--"you only wanted me to make you half a cake, hmmm?"

Is decorating the cake anyone else's favorite part? I'm always so anxious for the layers to cool so I can stack them up and have fun making them pretty. This icing was sort of difficult to keep smooth because of the coconut and pecan bits, but I have to admit that spreading frosting is calming in an odd sort of way. Maybe because it takes so much focus?

Anyway, I really hope my mom's friend likes the cake! At any rate, I'm sure her two little boys will! ;)

For anyone who is curious and would like to try, I used this recipe for the cake and this one for the frosting. I know--technically the cake recipe is not specifically for German chocolate, but it can be modified and is still quite delicious with the coconut pecan frosting.

Let me know if you decide to try it! Who else enjoys looking for new things to bake? Any masterpieces or disasters?

- Katie