July is almost over. This summer has flown by but also crawled by while I was healing. Time is such an interesting thing on how our experience of it can speed up and slow down. I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions after having cancer show up in my body again, as a mole on my toe. I’m so very grateful it was stage zero and we got clean margins, all without taking my toe 🙄 I didn’t realize I was so attached to that little pinky!

Now, I’m in a hyper aware mode again as I look around me and enjoy “firsts” after healing. The joy of swimming, the ability to pull weeds, or walk a lap on our property are all “new” after being slowed down by recovery. It was humbling how much losing a pea of flesh from my toe hurt and the length of  time it has taken to heal.​

It’s been a good reminder that healing is a long process. My spirit is healing as I seek to quiet the Fight or Flight response activated. I need to be gentle with myself and others as they heal too.  Building back resilience after hard things can be a complicated process, often with steps forward and backward. ​

Time seems to stop whenever I step in a grief puddle by bumping into something that brings sadness to the surface- a mole declared melanoma, my sister being in heaven and not being here for my mom’s 80th birthday this July, the anniversary of my little sister-in-law’s birthday, or just the bright color of pink she loved on an item in a store knowing I can’t send gifts to heaven. These things trigger emotions and I’m splashed in grief again. It takes time to dry off.​

Meanwhile, we decided to pull the trigger on getting a puppy once we got the good news about my toe. Kua bounded into our lives on 7.5.25. He’s a growing bundle of joy, snuggles, and very sharp teeth. He’s our 5th in an amazing line of Rhodesian Ridgebacks. Puppy raising is an intense experience, with lots of prioritization of potty training​, little sleep, and bite marks everywhere. It’s also full of laughter, licks, warm snuggles, and a slowing down of the calendar. It’s delightful to watch him play with our older dog, Akili, or discover the yard while I weed. The cats still aren’t sure about him, but he’s a charmer and will win them over in time. Thankfully while he sleeps and grows, I’ve also gotten to paint.

When Kaiser called with the bad pathology results last month, I processed by heading to the coast. I stopped at Valley Ford Creamery and got ice cream. They make it fresh from their Jersey cows’ milk, and it’s divine. The cone was gone way too soon, so I got a 2nd one 😂 Then I headed to Dillon Beach for a walk.​

The ocean always calms me. It speaks to me of God’s immense power, love and wisdom. He doesn’t need my help bringing in the waves. This brings perspective beyond my tunnel vision of frustration at what’s happening now.​ I processed all of this by putting paint on the largest canvas I’ve used, 3’x4′. Apparently large emotions mean I need a big canvas haha. I’m calling this view of the fog receding over the hills, and the beach beckoning, Reset.

While recuperating after the excisement on my toe, I  read something that stuck with me- if we looked over a surgeon’s shoulder during an operation it would seem barbaric. Too much blood and destruction of tissue would be happening. But when we know the story from diagnosis through surgery to healing, that same surgery is a blessing.​

I was reminded by this of the limits of my perspective. I don’t pretend to understand why one friend this week updated me on the horrific spread of her cancer, and another one went in for a biopsy to have the mass miraculously gone. I celebrate the miracle, and grieve the limited time given to my other friend.​

I’m left with questions, that I wish I could understand. Simultaneously I’m at peace with not being able to completely comprehend God. His unfathomable nature speaks of His limitless power and vastness. So, I seek to trust in the midst of the “surgery”, when what I can see just seems barbaric, and beg for the gift of hope, and faith when mine is insufficient. I need hope that surpasses my comprehension.​

All of this highlights again what a gift today is. It’s all we really have. Nothing else is guaranteed. Today, I choose to trust even when I don’t understand.  Today I write my story by enjoying the little things like the blackberries sweetening on the vine, the Gravenstein Apples ripening on the tree, roses blooming again, tomatoes turning red, zinnias bursting forth in a rainbow of colors, and a puppy learning not to chomp at my skin.​

This growing puppy keeps me company as I prepare for an art reception soon at Brothers Cafe in Santa Rosa (7.31.25 2-4pm). I’d love to see you there. Most of these paintings will be hung to celebrate the little gifts in life- like wildflowers along our path. In Sonoma County we can enjoy the outdoors, hikes in the hills, walks along the beach, tall trees, flowers blooming, or yummy soft serve 🍦 😁 May we find joy in the little things, today.

 

When I was little I remember fearing villians that could come in the night. My first nightmare was of the witch in Snow White. She was going to be sure I ate that poisonous apple! As an adult, I’ve faced villians in various forms. I bet you have too. The hardest for me have been the monsters that appeared inside my body.

in 2021, when I found the lump in my breast that had spread to my lymph nodes, I knew fear as a tangible reality. One way I fought back was to name the tumor with the villainous (?) name, Mervin. Mid chemotherapy we did a progress mammogram and Mervin was no where to be found. Eradicated! I was elated, and asked my oncologist if that meant I could stop treatment early.

My oncologist smiled kindly at my question and helped me realize that there might be mini monsters, cells traveling in my body that we needed to eradicate. Then came surgeries and radiation all in an effort to get rid of bad tissue and build an effective defense against any left over cells multiplying.

Getting to be cancer free finally was a gift that I didn’t take lightly. How could I while my sister in law was fighting brain cancer reoccurrence? Every cancer fighter knows the fear of that possibility, and each day is a different kind of battle to not let the fear win.

In May (2025) I had a great 6 mo breast exam with my surgical PA, but she noticed a dark mole on my right pinky toe. Thankfully I was wearing flip flops! I’d noticed it too and had my GP look at it a year previously. Photos had been sent to Dermotology and it’d been cleared of any suspicion.

My PA was not convinced, so she sent me to see a dermatologist. 48 hr later it was removed and sent away for biopsy. Four long weeks later I got an unwanted call with results- it was the beginnings of a melanoma.

Melanoma is a monster many of us know if we’ve lived long enough. It’s appeared for us or someone we care about. I’ve lost two people I love to it getting through their skin, running through their bloodstream and multiplying in an organ. Thankfully this mole should be contained to my protective skin layer. I’ve named it Helga. Somehow that seemed an appropriate name for a slug like thing.

The next step was to meet with a plastic surgeon, thankfully one I know from a previous surgery. Unfortunately, he was rushed and frustrated with the instruction he’d received to get 5mm of clean margins around the area. He spouted forth that this meant amputation of my little toe, and discussed the pros and mostly cons of skin grafts on the feet.

I was in shock. Suddenly a little thing felt like a tremendous monster seeking to take my mobility -at least for a time. This felt huge as in the last few months I’d just began hiking after 3 decades of struggling with neuropathic pain in my right foot after an injury at 18, and then years of bilateral neuropathy post chemotherapy.

Two days ago, my surgeon did his best to get clean margins but also save my toe. Hopefully Helga has been eradicated. He took out a pea of tissue and stitched me up. As I sit or lay with my foot in the air to heal, I’m once again fighting.

I’m fighting the urge to let fear win. I’m struggling as I await pathology results, to not let my worries take over. I’m seeking to surrender my new found mobility as I wait for answers. It’s a constant battle to combat fear with faith, and know that even if this wasn’t my plan, I know the One who has my best interests at heart. It’s been a battle of wanting control vs accepting that I was never really in control anyway.

 

Psalm 27:13 keeps coming to mind, “I remain confident of this. I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord.” He will show up. It’s ok to ask for the faith and eyes to see.

Tuesday, I enjoyed my lunch in the lawn while my heart complained about the mole excisement happening the next day. I felt a brush of wind on my right shoulder, and looked over expecting a bird flying very close. Instead, I saw 4 large yellow, swallowtail, butterflies dancing through the air together, over the grass & through the trees.

The dancing butterflies, four at once, felt like a tap on the shoulder from God. He still sees me. He knew I’d face this challenge. He’ll give me the strength to do so. I just need to look up, and shift my focus. Even in the waiting, I can be strong and take heart- expecting Him to show up and enable me to fight. I’ve got the ultimate superhero on my side.

Yay! Flowers are blooming at the farm and spring is finally here. The presence of blooms after the rain is such a wonderful picture of the reasons we have to rejoice. Rain brings sprouts & sprouts bring flowers, which turn into fruit, or stay beautiful flowers to put into bouquets!

Our son Tanner & his wife Larisa are planting an acre of organic vegetables this year. (Sparrows & Lilies Farmstead) They are working hard tilling the dirt, adding compost, planting, weeding, and awaiting the fruits of their labors.

Last weekend my husband and I spent a half hour weeding in our garden. It hardly made a dent in all the weeds 🙄​ but it was therapeutic. I enjoy ridding our garden of the unwanted plants that will take over the beautiful flowering ones, choking out their need for sunlight. So today we did it again!

This week I was inspired by a meditation on the calm app to try writing a poem in honor of April being National Poetry Mon​th. So here it is ☺️

Spring Matters

Life is rain and sunshine,

seeds in the dark

drink water from winter.

They wait and then burst

out into the spring sun.

Rays help them grow up.

Leaves welcome oxygen

as tendrils reach to drink

from the River of Life.

Time passes, winds blow.

Roots hold steady.

Flowers bloom bright

turning into fruit,

ready to be picked,

and eaten, consumed

by those in need of sustenance.

Comfort given, is comfort received.

Fruit finished, seed falls

to the ground, soil blankets,

roots grow again.

It was fun to put some thoughts ​into this form. Want to try it too? 😊

May the spring flowers bursting forth bring reminders of the Hope always present. Easter is almost here!

P.S. Here’s some scriptures in my thoughts as I penned the above- Jer 17-7-8. 2 Cor 1:3-4, John 15:7-8, and Gsl 5:22-23.​ 

Newest painting- Contemplation

Friendship is such a gift. In my painting class we’re preparing for a show, “Wag the Tale.” We’re all painting dogs & cats. I chose to paint our dog, Akili, and our granddog, Moose– Forever Friends. They are quite a pair.

Akili is a Rhodesian Ridgeback and therefore a hound dog. Moose is a retriever. They love to run and play together, but Moose wants to chase something- mostly his red frisbee. Akili just wants to chase Moose, or lay in the sun and watch him run. They are so happy when they get to be together despite their differences.

Capturing their faces was hard for me! I found trying to get the tilt of their head just right & the sunlight on their fur challenging. Although it was fun to paint a “white” dog who isn’t really white at all…

Before working on this painting, I got to travel to Hawaii with amazing friends that are like family. It was a long anticipated trip that had to be canceled twice before it finally happened. It was an amazing time together. When we returned home to winter grey from Hawaiian sun, I found myself facing concerns I’d left behind and in post high blues.

I’m studying Philippians, and in 1:18b-19, Paul says, “…I will continue to rejoice for I know that through your prayers, and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.”

Paul is imprisoned for his faith in Rome while writing this letter and Nero is the emperor of Rome- not a safe time to be a follower of Christ. I was encouraged by his choice to rejoice in the midst of hardship, not because it was over. Perhaps the latter type of celebration would be happiness. My default is to focus wanting hardship over, not rejoicing in the midst.

A friend recently said that “Joy is peace laughing, and peace is joy at rest.” She’s not sure where she heard it. I loved that! As I focus on the word peace this year, I see that Paul is able to confidently rejoice during difficulties because He knows God will show up, and part of how He does that is through others’ prayers.

As I studied this, I felt I needed to ask for prayers. Alone in my blues was not a place of hope or victory. So I sent some texts explaining how I was feeling and asking others to pray. I also asked some friends if we could plan coffee, or lunch, or a walk.

Social media is fun, and I enjoy the humor I find there and seeing what others are up to, but it doesn’t meet my need for connection. That happens when I pick up the phone and talk or Face Time with a friend far away, or share a meal or coffee with someone nearby. That way I can get hugs, and hugs are important! Receiving cancer treatment during Covid meant no hugs. I’ll never take them for granted again.

Facing the infection I had recently in December and then it trying to come back in February has been unsettling. I’ve needed the understanding of my support system. Those that have faced cancer understand that new medical appointments dig up old fears. Their companionship on this journey is priceless.

Our forever friends, don’t have to have everything in common with us. We just need to care about each other & listen. Time spent together means burdens shared and we go away from it lighter. Of course for this to happen, we have to be honest about where we’re at, and let them be vulnerable too.

Sometimes it feels like our culture fights us on this. Let’s fight back. Real connection is sustaining and someone in your circle needs you right now. Your text, prayers, and hug will mean the world to them.

I get to live on five acres in Sebastopol, Ca. The property used to be a chicken farm. My husband renovated one of the chicken barns long ago into an office for me. It now has a new life as my studio. I’m so grateful for days spent with the winter sun streaming through the windows and paint getting applied to canvases, or cool nights with the fire burning and my animals snoozing away while I paint.

I’m about ready to refresh the displays I have up at Brew Brothers coffee shop in Sebastopol and Brothers Cafe in Santa Rosa. As I considered what to paint, animals kept coming to mind. First I found a photo of a highland cow with its tongue out. A town near us, Tomales, is known for these curly haired creatures. The photo cracked me up and I had to try to capture it.

Next I enjoyed working with a new size of canvas- an oval- to paint my cat Duke’s portrait. He’s been such a gift. When I began my cancer fight I decided I needed a snuggle buddy, I wanted a Maine Coon mix cat like the one I’d had as a child. I got him from a lady who thought he was a girl. I named my kitten, Daisy. A friend questioned his female identity, so as we awaited the vet’s verdict, I started calling him Daisy Duke. That soon got shortened to Duke once the vet confirmed we have a male cat 😂

A friend from painting class knows how much I enjoy painting farm animals and asked if I might like to paint her kids’ pet pig. She had a hilarious photo of the day the pig, Pipoca, decided to “help” her grandson paint, and stuck her snout in the wet paint. They live in Portugal and the pig’s name means popcorn 🍿 So, here’s Pipoca the Painting Pig…

Now, I was on an animal roll and remembered some fun photos we’d taken one evening of cows on our weekly drive to the beach. The sun was setting, lighting up the hill behind them as they ambled up to the fence in hopes of dinner. Curious Cows @ Dinner Time was a fun challenge because of the lighting.

Well, I thought, this collection needs a barn… in the past I’d painted our turn of the century barn and wanted to do something different. Brent had taken some great barn photos for me on one of our trips to Tennessee. So, I printed one of a white barn and decided to paint it. White barns with green trim are so pretty! The photo didn’t have any animals… so I added some sheep and daffodils bursting forth. Daffodils are always the first to bloom at our property bringing with them the hope of spring.

Last year, I painted Garden Friends from a collection of photos from our garden. I’m thinking I’ll hang this with the farm paintings. Every year, I eagerly await new blooms on the plants. A sweet friend just hired me to create a bouquet for her mother’s birthday. I think she was hoping I’d do so from our garden, but this time of year we’re still getting frost and nothing is blooming yet. So off to Trader Joe’s I went to collect the blooms for her gift.

During the dark days of winter after Christmas, it can be a challenge to remain positive. I’ll confess to leaving up my barn “Christmas” lights to brighten the evenings while the days are still short.

During this season, the ground needs to rest, hydrate, and rejuvenate. May we find ways to do so too. Curl up with a good book, fill your home with Trader Joe’s flowers 😆, watch a movie with hot popcorn, or get a cup of coffee with a friend. I hope these paintings bring a smile to your face and that the small blessings you have around you, bring cause to rejoice.

Soon the plum trees will bloom pink and white and the promise of fruit will come again. Just finished Tart Sweetness, my first try at plums. They are tart and sweet- just like this crazy roller coaster called life 💗

Happy New Year! 2025 has arrived- wow! New Years seems to bring reflection. I listened to a meditation on the Calm app the other day and it asked the listener to consider what you’d like to let go of that isn’t serving you any more as the year closed- a pattern, habit, way of thinking, judgement… this got me pondering…

A few years ago my close friends and I decided to choose a word for each new year instead of making New Year’s resolutions. The word chosen represents what we want to focus on for the year. As I considered what I want to let go of, I also thought about what I want to hold on to.

In 2025, I want to break up with doubt- especially doubt about God’s love. For some reason each time I hit a dip in the roller coaster of life, fear takes precedence and I doubt again. As I let go of this fear, I want to receive peace.

I was inspired by a dear friend memorizing Ps 27. She can recite the whole thing! I read it and could see the appeal so decided to give it a go. Over and over this psalm describes scary situations and how there is no need to be afraid.

Each time I work on memorizing the words, I’m encouraged by the psalmist’s confidence. In Ps 27:3 it says,”Though an army besiege me my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident.” This is the confident peace I want for 2025 and beyond. So the word I chose for 2025 is “peace”. I even found a cool sign at an after Christmas sale 😆

Another friend was facing unexpected surgery this week and I was wondering how to pray for her. Eph 3 came to mind, where Paul prays that his readers will have power to “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ; and to know this love that surpasses all knowledge-“ (18-19).

Really knowing the depth of God’s love chases away doubt. As I grasp Jesus’ hand and take off into 2025, the scars I can feel in my palm are proof of His love. When I’m tempted to doubt because unexpected difficulties arise, I want to hold on tight and believe.

Happy New Year 🥳 May the gift of His peace fill our hearts & bring joy.

Merry Christmas! Are you doing last minute Christmas things? I wrapped so many gifts yesterday & thankfully they’re under the tree now, ready to be given.

I did some reflecting today on the gifts that come within grief and thought of all the brightly wrapped packages under my tree. They are filled with things I hope others will like. Items I hope will express care, and love.

Last Friday, I got a “gift” I didn’t want- an infection in one of my surgical sites. I’d been warned that due to lack of circulation there it could happen. My response was a temper tantrum- “I don’t want this!” It led to a dr visit and as the infection worsened that night, the ER for IV antibiotics. Thankfully my lab work encouraged my doctors so I got to come home – to take 3 different antibiotics. 10 days later, I’m so much better; but also oh so tired. Antibiotics are hard on the body. So grateful my last dose is today.

The holidays are usually jam packed for me with time spent with others or planning celebrations at my house. This time of being sick in the midst of it has brought an unexpected calm. I’ve given myself permission to paint, rest, read, sleep.

We’re walking through another first set of holidays without a loved one- Brent’s little sister. Unexpected pits of emotion come like a puddle of rain water. I step in it and get an unexpected cold splash. Decorating for Christmas was filled with poignancy as I unwrapped ornaments from my sister who passed of Covid in 2021, decorations from Brent’s precious mom who passed of Alzheimer’s in 2022, and handmade ornaments from a little Marissa, just mentioned, who passed of brain cancer in 2024. Its all so much grief.

Cancer also brought losses. Once of which was an insulation of safety. I no longer feel invincible, or like it can’t happen to me. When Kaiser sends me for a test, I worry on a visceral level that the worst can happen.

Simultaneously, grief has brought gifts. Without dark we don’t really appreciate the light. I’ve found that being a cancer survivor, I get to spread Hope. Hope that when the worst news comes, you can survive, and be victorious!

My faith was vibrant pre cancer, but now I know my roots tap into Living Water and it sustains me even through drought. Prayers really do work miracles. Having community is important! Birthdays are precious days and I don’t mind sharing my age. I enjoyed turning 54 on 12/9 and all the ways my family and friends helped me celebrate- dinner out, dinner in, a hike, lunches out… for over 10 days 😁 I’m so happy to have hair and to watch it grow. Others who meet me now and hear my story, wonder if I ever lost it at all… I’m grateful for each precious day given.

Post cancer, I get to spend my days mostly taking care of myself and creating. Painting has been the main outlet for that. Because of wanting to take lessons, I’ve found a community of artists. Within that community are many wonderful people including other cancer survivors and we encourage each other.

I don’t have time any more for the unimportant or to not be honest, or to worry much about what others think. I want to spend time with the people I love. Children are hilarious. Pets bring me joy, and their messes can be cleaned up. Baking is fun, and sharing what I’ve made to eat or spread on a canvas brings me joy.

I have regrets or wishes for what else I could have said to or experienced with those we’ve lost. It makes me not want that with others in my life, and helps me think carefully about how to show my care for them.

In the midst of being sick this last week, my friends and family have shown up again for me. They’re texting, praying, going to the store, making cake, bringing tea, watching movies. There are so many ways to tell people we care.

Sometimes the reason for this season gets drowned out by the noise. Christmas is-God showed His love by giving us His son- John 3:16. The angels said this was, “good news of great joy that will be for all people“ (Luke 2:10). Let’s follow in His footsteps and show our love to others in big ways but also countless small ways each day. The joy of giving is a gift for the giver.

Praying we all have eyes to see the Light in our dark through Christmas and the New Year 🕯️💗