What Rhymes with 'Olonoscopy?

"You can't use the "C" word, if you write about this," my husband insisted.

"Oh, sure, give me a writing challenge, and then tie my hands behind my back," I said, throwing my hands up as we drove out of the hospital parking lot.

"And no, you can't just drop the "c," and write about an " 'olonoscopy," he added.

"You're not being fair, you know."

"You're not being very sensitive to my feelings about this very sensitive topic."

I reminded Chuck that we could make this a public service announcement, reminding people how important colonoscopies are. 

"Don't use the word colonoscopy!"

Ugh. My husband can be a little stubborn when it comes to his privacy. 

I teased him saying I could write the story, and just mention I was with "THIS GUY" (air quotes used for emphasis) in the gastroenterologist's office in Saint Charles...

Chris Farley demonstrates air quotes

"Don't make it sound like you just go with random guys for their doctor's visits."

"Well, your anonymity is so important to you; I'm just trying to help."

If you're reading this, you know I persevered, and Chuck gave me permission, sort of, to share my story with a limited audience. The audience needs to be people he does not know personally, and believes he will not be meeting in the very near future. I feel sorry for the rest of the folks who don't get to hear this one.

I just love showing how witty my husband is, and I think it is good to remind people that no matter how embarrassing or uncomfortable it may be to talk about colonoscopies, it's important to be pro-active when it comes to our health. I have dear friends who are still with us today because of colonoscopy screenings, and they were able to pursue treatment which, thankfully, saved their lives. So, back to our story...

While the doctor was talking to "this guy,"who happens to be my handsome husband, he pointed out that one in eighteen patients has pre-cancerous polyps.

"So how did things go for your previous seventeen patients?" "this guy" asked. I nudged him with my elbow, knowing how his mind works.

The doctor paused, gave a quick smile, and said that they were doing quite well. Chuck looked down, and took a quick gulp. I believe I heard an "Uh-oh." See what I mean?

The next day, Chuck posted this on Facebook:

During the office visit, the doctor pointed out, "It's the patients who don't come in for screenings who are having problems." 

The nurse came back with the pre-screening preparation instructions, two whole pages worth. I don't envy her her job, but she balanced out her information with a dry sense of humor. She and Chuck kept up their exchange of humorous dialogue until it was time to go.

Chuck mentioned that most people have to drink disgusting juice and vegetable drinks for days on end when on a cleansing diet. He would be able to take care of things in less than two days, and would be spared from drinking any juice. We all know how much he loves fruits and veggies.

(At this point in my writing, I had Chuck come in to see what he thought of my story so far.

"You're doing a very excellent job of telling this," he said. "Too bad you and I are the only ones who will ever read it." Ugh.

He's a character, but he puts up with me. And my blog. And a lowered level of privacy. Bless his heart.

Admittedly, the preparation required for a colonoscopy is not fun and games. It's tedious. It can be a little uncomfortable. It requires that you camp out near the bathroom for most of the day before the procedure, but the procedure itself is a breeze. 

One of the most peaceful moments of my life was right before the anesthesia overtook me before my own colonoscopy. Right as my eyes closed, I felt so blissful and carefree, and before I knew it, I was awake, and ready to go home. No. Big. Deal. And totally worth it to know I had a healthy colon.

This rite of passage may not be as fun as being old enough to drive, or buying yourself your first beer legally, but if you're over 50, and are lucky enough to still have your colon, you better take care of it. Seriously, no matter how inconvenient, embarrassing, or uncomfortable it may be, go get a colonoscopy. The life you save may be your own.

This public service announcement brought to you by "this guy" and Randomocity. You're welcome.

(See, Honey, that wasn't so bad, was it?) 

Daddy's Girls

Big Princess and her Daddy

As Father's Day approaches, I find my mind teased with favorite memories of growing up as Daddy's Princess. When my little sister Natalie was born 14 years later, she became Little Princess, and I had the dubious honor of being Big Princess. Let that sink in. LOL.

Apparently, on the Howdy Doody show, the Indian princess was Princess Summer-Fall-Winter-Spring. Daddy called me that when I was a baby, and occasionally, his Princess of All Seasons. Natalie only seems to remember those nicknames; feigning great jealousy that she was simply "Little Princess." The truth remains: we were Daddy's girls, and we miss him fiercely.

Daddy's Girls, Denise and Natalie

I try not to cry when I remember him; he would hate that, but my eyes sting, and my throat gets tight. I just never wanted him to leave so soon. If I were honest, even if I lived to be 80, and he had lived to 106, it wouldn't have been long enough for me.

A couple of weeks ago, I had a Skype request from Bridger. As we visited, he asked me about the DVD my brother Danny made of Daddy recounting his childhood memories during one of our vacations at Myrtle Beach.  Bridge was missing Granddaddy, and wanted to watch the movie. I promised to figure out how to share it with him, but worried, in the back of my mind, how it would affect me to hear and see him once again.

Roger & Carol Ann Beidler

I shouldn't have worried. Dad was a great storyteller, and I loved every minute of seeing him on my computer screen, listening to the well-known stories at the kitchen table in our vacation house in Myrtle Beach. He recounted his memories as a young boy in Germany, as a teenager who was involved in a lot of pranks in high school, and he told my favorite story of his about riding in the back seat of his dad's car with his sister Carol Ann and her cat. 

Roger & Carol Ann

Granddaddy Beidler, MY granddaddy, had told Carol Ann she could take the cat along for a car ride, but she was to leave the cat IN the box, no peeking. Of course, my Aunt Carol had to check on her kitty, and when she did, the cat looked out the window, seeing the landscape whizzing by, and promptly threw up. Then Carol Ann threw up on the cat. Then Granddaddy had a big mess to clean up. Watching my dad tell that story with a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face made me happy, not sad.

Thank you for so many good memories, Dad. Your princes and princesses miss you so much, but we were lucky to have you as long as we did.

Big Princess and Little Princess

Renaissance Faire, Saint Louis-style

My husband Chuck Bennorth is my idol when it comes to photography. His albums are full of the most exquisite photographs. The pictures are taken in such a wide variety of circumstances and landscapes. He is a master of light and shadow, portraiture, and architectural details and patterns. 

Chuck's work gets noticed by the Ren Faire regulars. Many of the reenactors use his portraits as their Facebook profile pictures. One of his best shots was featured on a billboard welcoming people to the Bristol Renaissance Faire last summer.

This was Chuck's photograph that was featured on the Bristol Renaissance Faire billboard, and
won first place in the Fantastikal category..
How cool is THAT? (Photo Credit: Chuck Bennorth, obvs)

Chuck is a fixture at the Renaissance Faire in Bristol. He has attended every possible week he can during the summer seasons, toting his big, heavy camera to capture the spirit of the Renaissance in his lens. I've enjoyed his stories and photos since we met last fall, and I finally had my first opportunity to attend a faire when we went on vacation to Saint Louis, Missouri. 

We were greeted by this darling street urchin, Laura Deutschmann, a friend of Chuck's
from earlier seasons. (Photo Credit: Chuck Bennorth)

We parked in a very large, open field, and once we paid our admission, we were swept away like time travelers to a day gone by as we walked along the wooded path. There were shops and displays within a complete village tucked into the scenic woods hidden by all of the foliage that surrounded the parking area.

My love for the Renaissance period began in sixth grade in Mrs. Scibal's classroom. I began dreaming of visiting the castles of Europe, learning to speak a Romance language, and writing with calligraphy pens. I went on to learn Latin and French in school, and continued to dream of castles, and studying the artists of that time period.

The Renaissance Faire fuels my love that began so long ago. There are fairies and musicians, princes and paupers, royalty and beggars, wenches and ladies' maids. There are blacksmiths and magicians, glass blowers and bubble blowers, woodland nymphs and fantastical creatures, steampunk fans and madrigal singers. The savory smells of brats and cooked turkey waft through the woods. There are carnival games and hawkers selling their wares. The entertainment is full of slapstick and bawdy humor, with lots of good-natured teasing. The costumes range from seductive belly dancers to washer women wenches to pirates to gilded royalty.

These are some of my favorite shots of our day at the Saint Louis Ren Faire. What a feast for this photographer's camera. (My husband doesn't ask that I give him credit, but I do it anyway. I borrowed a couple of his shots to round out the characters from the festival.)

LINKS TO RENAISSANCE FAIRE ARTICLES and SITES:

Open Wide the Gates! (A peek inside the gates of Bristol Renaissance Faire)

The Royal Treatment (A look at the Bristol Renaissance Faire from the perspective of a first-timer)

Yeah, We're that Couple (Sometimes my husband and I end up on the other side of the camera lens at ren faires, and when we do, we are usually dressed alike.)

Wouldn't You Like to Be a Rennie, Too? (Ren faire enthusiast buys her first costume at the faire)

Unknotting My Knickers (My response to the person who was offended I called myself a rennie)

Saint Louis Renaissance Festival


Bristol Renaissance Faire (This site features Chuck's photography from different seasons.)

This is one of my favorite photos from the faire, taken by my husband.
Photo Credit: Chuck Bennorth

Rainy Day AND a Monday...

The Weather Channel and I are developing quite a relationship. It has become one of my good friends here in this land of milk and honey...and precipitation! 

I've barely whispered my "Hello, Handsome," before I reach for my phone on the nightstand. This morning, the Weather Channel let me know that we were experiencing 100% humidity, and it was 74 degrees. Whew. Already? It was only 4:45.

100% humidity. I don't really know what that even means, climatologically-speaking; I just know it is so very, very damp, and the air is like an over-soaked sponge. Does the humidity have to pass a tipping point, say 101%, to actually release the torrent of rain that is building up in the atmosphere?

We plan everything around the weather here: day trips, photo shoots, church picnics; even my early morning walks. The Weather Channel helps us figure out when it's too muggy to walk, when the possible storms will hit, and when we will have a dry spell. I usually walk and talk with my husband while he drives his 75 minute commute to work, but the Weather Channel says there won't be a break in the rains today until between 9 and 10. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. 0% chance of rain sounds promising, even if it's only brief.
  

Having grown up in Virginia, a land of rain and gorgeous green landscapes, I am no stranger to humidity. But after nearly four decades of desert living in Utah, it is taking some time to acclimate to this damp environment again. 

There were things I'd forgotten until the summer weather arrived in Chicagoland. Oy vey. The memories came flooding back to me. Towels never completely dry. Basements are dank. Clothes always feels wet. Hairspray is not optional for we of the flat hair tribe. It takes my jeans three days to "line dry" here vs. three hours back in the desert. No one in our neighborhood has a sprinkler system.  Grass grows at phenomenal rates. 

Our yard actually probably needs to be mown twice a week, but Chuck tackles the long grass each weekend, teasing that if he is late on his mowing due to the rains, he may have to bale it. It grows so TALL. It seems to have a 5 o'clock shadow of its own that no amount of grooming can keep at bay.

The first year at college in Utah, I remember talking to Daddy at the end of September. He reported that Virginia had had rain 29 out of the previous 30 days. Oh, my word. That's a lot of rain.

Rain ruined so many plans when we were growing up. Being cooped up in the house when we were kids made us cranky. My poor mother. Whenever we went camping, she always packed a rainy day bag full of coloring books and activities for us to enjoy when the inevitable rains came. 

But do you know what? I learned to love rain while living in Utah. I have a metal roof over my bedroom in my little cottage, and listening to the rain is a sweet memory from childhood. I even love lightning storms. The earth smells so fresh at the end of a storm. There are rainbows and dewy plants. Yards look better. The rain became a welcome visitor.

So, this morning, I found an old camp chair in the garage, and I sat just inside the door, listening to the rain, and watching the downpour while Chuck and I talked. As soon as it stopped, I grabbed my camera and took some photos.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for my walk. I have a very small window of opportunity, and I don't want to miss it. While I do enjoy the rain, I find I enjoy it much more from the comfort of my home, looking out the windows, than I do outside in my hiking jacket. This is one of those "Rainy Days and Mondays" that will not get me down!

The Carpenters' "Rainy Days and Mondays"

I Knew It Wouldn't Be Easy (Whole 30)

After tapering my caffeine, sugar, and flour consumption for two weeks, I felt like I was ready to tackle a full 30 days of whole food eating. My plan was to only consume fruits, vegetables, protein, and fats. For 30 days, my experiment would eliminate flour, grains, processed foods, sugar and artificial sweeteners.

Why would I agree to this self-inflicted torture? There are just so many desired outcomes hanging in the balance: restful sleep, increased energy, less arthritic pain, and the big allure for me : being in control of my out-of-control eating.

After a big breakfast of sautéed spinach, peppers, and eggs, but no coffee, Monday morning, I took a deep breath, and declared it my official DAY ONE of the Whole 30 eating plan.

I knew it wouldn't be easy. What I didn't know is that within a couple of hours of my official start, there would be a special delivery from Edible Arrangements. A silver platter loaded with strawberries dipped in chocolate came as a thank you for some photography work we had done for a non-profit dance company. 

This wasn't just a stale cookie or the frosted remains of a carton of ice cream calling my name. This was an exquisite presentation of my favorite fruit covered in one of my favorite temptations.

I texted Chuck immediately.

"What shall we do with them?" he responded.

"I want to gobble the whole tray."

"That is fine with me."

Yes, I knew that would be the case; Chuck just wants me to be happy. I also know that I am a person of my word. When I commit, out loud, to another human being, and even to myself, I want to follow through. If I don't, I'm not happy. So...we called a friend who was glad to take them off our hands. Problem solved.

Chuck was proud, if not a little surprised, at my resolve. I was pretty impressed myself. I knew if I could walk away from such a beautiful tray of temptation, I could walk away from anything.

Day One of anything is like that, isn't it? We're so full of ourselves, our determination, our goals, our best intentions. Harder days are coming...

Pumpkin Spice Scones

This versatile recipe allows you to make these scones two ways: Pumpkin Spice or Apple Oatmeal.

Have you heard of "Bring Your Beautiful Bride to Work Day?" Probably not, because my husband made it up. He doesn't like it when I call it "Take Your Wife to Work Day," but I told him when I say it his way, it sounds a little too self-promoting.

Every Friday, it is my privilege to ride to and from work with Chuck, which gives us two to three hours of commuting time together, and we get to go out for lunch. After the weekend, Fridays are my favorite day of the week because the two of us have more time together.

You may wonder what I do with my Friday while he is at work for eight hours. I'm glad you asked.

Every time I have ridden to Deerfield with him, I have started the day with a bottomless cup of coffee and a vegan scone at a local coffeehouse, and have enjoyed the use of their WiFi. After lunch, I have gone to the public library, and read and walked around the city park next door until it's time to pick up Chuck.

ENTER THE BENNORTH BUDGET. Right up until I saw the numbers in black and white, I was quite content to spend money the way we did. When we saw something we wanted, we bought it. If we wanted to go out to eat, we went.

Now I have to ask myself if I would rather have more money in our travel and home improvement accounts than have the whim of the moment. The whim usually loses out, and our budget wins.

I discovered I was spending seven bucks a week at the coffee shop, which was no big deal to me until I did the math. I was slightly uncomfortable realizing I was spending nearly $30 each month on my weekly splurge, and when it hit me that I would spend $360 a year on my coffee and scone, I realized that money could go toward the new dishwasher, or cover part of our Florida trip to visit Chuck's new grandson, or any number of things we have deemed important.

Our budget made me reconsider my weekly splurge at the coffee house, and I determined that I could do my Fridays much cheaper by bringing my coffee from home, and learning to make my own scones.

This week my goal was to make scones for the first time. Not Utah's version of fried bread dough, which I think Utah should reconsider, but the English version of a slightly sweet, crumbly scone. My favorite scone is a fruity, lightly spiced with cinnamon, vegan scone, so I searched for a recipe to tweak to my liking, and this is the result. I was able to cut the calories by almost a third without affecting the texture or taste, so the results were worth it!

My man child deemed my second attempt "so freakin' awesome," so I think we have a winning recipe here. If you like apples, oats, and cinnamon in your scones, I think it's safe to say you will love these. Here you go: the Randomocity Oatmeal Apple Scone.

Oops. One disappeared before I realized I wanted to take a picture for you.

Randomocity Oatmeal Apple Scones 
(for Pumpkin Spice Scones, follow directions below, except substitute pumpkin puree for the applesauce, and add 1/2 t. pumpkin pie spice.)

INGREDIENTS

DRY INGREDIENTS: 
Put the following into a large bowl for mixing:

3 cups of oatmeal, old-fashioned, rolled oats blended in blender until most of it is the consistency of flour. (You could also substitute your favorite flour for any of the oat flour.)

1/4 cup brown sugar (or 1/4 cup blended dates)

1/4 cup stevia

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

After emptying blender of flour, put the following into the blender, and blend until well blended: (Geez, could I use any more forms of blend in one sentence?)

1/3 cup coconut oil, melted
1 small apple or 1/2 c. applesauce (or 1/2 c. pumpkin puree, if you like)

1/3 cup coconut almond milk or coconut milk, unsweetened (feel free to substitute your favorite kind of milk product)

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Stir the dry ingredients together, setting aside 1 cup of oats (unblended) to stir into the mixture before baking.

Soften the coconut oil in the microwave for 30 seconds, and then cut it into the dry ingredients until the mixture is crumbly..

Stir in the last three ingredients.

Shape the batter into a circle on a lightly greased cookie sheet, and cut into triangles.

Bake at 350 degrees for 15-20 minutes.

Nutritional info courtesy
My Fitness Pal Recipe Calculator

These have the same flavor and texture as the ones from the bakery case at the coffee shop, but will cost considerably less when I bake them at home. It's a win for the Bennorth Budget!