Santa Ynez, California...now and then

Just finished: Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane; disturbing but awesome plot twists! I'm eager to see the movie. Grade: B+

I took this picture myself while I walked in a Livestrong fundraiser in this beautiful valley where Lance Armstrong has trained, near Ronald Reagan's ranch. It evokes such Western passion in me that my fantastic niece Kelley is using this pic and Photo shopping other elements so I can update my website with a new look.

It's not just the Western feel of the place that gets to me. It's where my brave and healthy hubby rides a half-century (about 32 miles) through the hills, raising funds to fight cancer. He did his first ride only 5 months into remission. I was and am so proud of him.

Just as the bikers and hikers do their thing raising money for this great cause, I can easily imagine the cowpokes and stagecoaches of yesteryear traversing the roadways. It's still rural and ranchy enough around here to make such imaginings easy.

Santa Ynez is so dear to family...our son-in-law took our daughter there to propose! He and she are right by my hero's side during the ride. (Or...maybe just a BIT ahead of him LOL, being younger and fitter.)

Anyway, it's a beautiful place to be.

LiveSTRONG and Prosper

Today is LiveSTRONG Day world-wide. Wear yellow. Donate and get a wristband.

On this date 13 years ago, cyclist Lance Armstrong was diagnosed with testicular cancer...at a time in his life he had no health insurance. His memoir, It's Not About the Bike, broke the ground on T.C. awareness.

Thanks also to my hero, Dr. Lawrence Einhorn, whose research at Indiana University invented the chemotherapy protocol in 1978 that saved Lance's life. And also my husband's last year. Dr. Einhorn makes himself available by e-mail and phone to guys needing answers and second opinions. Thank you, God.

In 1978, s dying patient begged Dr. Einhorn to use him as a guinea pig.

He's alive today.

Of the 7,600 men who will be diagnosed with T.C. this year, more than 95% will survive. But only if the disease is caught in time!

I can't deny the BEP protocol is harrowing and life-threatening in itself. But it works. Get the men in your life to check their balls. Just like our BSE's, guys gotta do TSE's.

Please?

Tanya Writes About the Livestrong Wedding, part 2

Current read: Lady X's Cowboy, Zoe Archer










Yes, yellow roses, gerberas, callas. Lemons. Livestrong wristbands for favors. A Tour d' France jersey-themed groomscake. Each table named for a Tour term. Lemondrop martinis.

Everything picture-perfect, to die-for. Willingly. Sigh. Even down to the little china plate her dad and I ate our cake from, thirty five years ago! (Her brother and his bride ate off it five years ago.)



Sigh again. And live strong!

Tanya Writes About, well, being a MOBster

(No. She did not Say Yes to this Dress. But it was, briefly, a contender.)

Current read: (not a lot of time these days. These are great stories but I'm not quite done with the last one...) Cranberry Hearts, Barbour anthology.

We're in the countdown now. Nine months of planning have evaporated into six more days. Bridesmaids' luncheon is tomorrow...I'm finishing up the ring-bearer pillow, made from a scrap of the white satin I used to make her presentation dress for the sorority during Parents Weekend not all that long ago...fellow Cactus Rose author Paty Jager is filling in for me next Wednesday at Petticoats and Pistols...

Tuxes to get. Yellow satin ribbons to tie around the programs. Envelopes to address for the wedding favors--LIVESTRONG yellow bracelets. Mani-pedi, Massage. Last Wednesday's practice daddy-daughter dance (to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl") had me so misted up I know I'll be comatose during The Real Thing.

That's because my hero told me, when the testicular cancer diagnosis smacked us in the head: Oh, I want to live to give my daughter away at her wedding.

Well, praise God. He's getting his wish!

I blogged a while back about the bone spur getting removed from my right foot. My intent was to heal up in time to get some kick-ass stilettos for the wedding. but I've have to content myself with three fun pairs of ballet slippers for the dancing part. I'll gut it through the black satin strappies during the ceremony. (I will not of course, wear all three. But I haven't yet decided which pair will make the cut. There is one pair, the Vera Wangs I did NOT get on sale, that will likely make the cut.)

After The Wedding is heartbreakingly over, and the lovebirds are sunning it up in Aruba, I'll get back to the blog with some of my good reviews for Marrying Minda and my oxymoronic goal to write an erotic short story AND an inspirational novella at the same time.

Do you think it can be done?

Be patient when nothing new appears here for a while. I've got a lot on that tiered crystal cake plate. So I'll leave you with an Old Scots Song.

The woman wasna taken
From Adam's head, ya know,
So she must no command him, (yeah right...this is me.)
'Tis evidently so;
The woman wasna taken from Adam's feet, you see,
So he must no abuse her--
The meaning seems to be.
The woman she was ta'en
From under Adam's arm,
Which shows he must protect her
From injury and harm.

Tanya Writes About the Most Romantic Proposal Ever

Yeah, he's a keeper. The guy our daughter has selected to marry LOL. First off, he properly asked my hero for her hand two months ago. Took him to a division playoff game of his favorite baseball team. Said he was re-designing his gramma's ring and wanted to propose during the holidays, so please keep it on the down-low.

My hero of course gave his permission yes but asked if it was okay to tell me.

Of course--said with an ear-to-ear smile.

And I, well, how could I keep something like that secret for two whole months or more? I've been planning her wedding since she was three minutes old...so I told Betty next door and two of my best high school friends at the reunion. Otherwise my lips were sealed.

I didn't even tell her brother!

And the holidays meant so many things! Thanksgiving (his mom and sister came to visit us for the first time; they're both wonderful and it was a fantastic day.) Our daughter's December birthday. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. New Years Eve...New years Day. Rose Bowl. And on and on.

So was I ever glad the big event happened already the day after Thanksgiving! My mind is already running rampant with Plans. (as well as schemes to pay for them LOL.)

Here's what my future son-in-law did. He planned a twosome bicycle ride along the same beautiful Santa Ynez roads my hero and our daughter rode in September to raise money for Livestrong. The fact that his tire popped eight miles into the 31 and the replacement tube didn't fit didn't daunt her at all.

But considering he'd planned surprise massages at a beautiful bed and breakfast at two p.m. caused a tad of consternation. Fortunately the innkeeper came and got them in a roomy SUV.

After great massages which our daughter reports were never long enough, he'd planned wine and cheese on the veranda. Oily hair and all.


And after wine..an on-your knee proposal even though the late afternoon was chilly and the grass was wet with dew.

Back inside to warm up at the fireplace and make phone calls.


White Star champagne and chocolate colored strawberries.

Red roses which she said she wishes could live forever.

And of course the plan to celebrate each anniversary here year after year!

Oh, and by the way, the ring is one I'd be scared I'd get mugged for LOL. A brilliant surrounded by a ring of tiny diamonds, white gold decorated with filigree he designed, and inside are their two teensie birthstones. Wow, it's gorgeous.

So far, lavender and sage are the chosen colors.

You can bet I'll keep you informed of every luscious detail!

And you guys out there. If you need any ideas, I'd stick with this scenario. Everybody is all smiles in our little corner of the world!

Up next: My soon-to-be-released Christmas story

Tanya Writes About Her Hero Riding Strong for LAF

Lance said it best in his book, and my hero lived it. We didn't now what would kill him first, the cancer or the chemo.

So with remission five months behind him and fresh scans totally clear of that ugly thing, my hero determined to ride a half-metric (appprox 32 miles) to raise funds for Livestrong, Lance Armstrong's cancer-fighting organization. And ride he did, our daughter at his side. (Well, as he explains it, she was miles ahead, waiting for him LOL.)

His stamina is mostly back but not like it was when he could play two rounds of golf in a day in desert heat. Or when he could fight a fire for fourteen straight days like he did in Big Sur. Still, he's hale and hearty and handsome as hell. He's been riding daily and getting stronger, but we live on a large, fertile plain. No hills remotely nearby. But, the fundraiser's coordinator assured him, "there's only one difficult climb. The rest is a leisure ride."

Well, that was a stretch of the truth LOL. The roads throughout the lovely Santa Ynez valley had a lot of ascents, climbs, and rises through ranch and vineyard country. Plus it was about 100 degrees. But ride the route, my hero did. And finish to boot, raising over $900 in pledges from friends, family, and fellow firefighters.

It does rain in Southern California, in the winter and early spring. Last February and March brought snow-capped mountains and bright green hills. On all those drives to the hospital, I sent up my own versions of Psalm 121...and watched those hills, green and ripply as Na Pali.



But now it's fall here, and our hottest time of the year. The hills have become the more traditional camel-brown as brush and grass have tried out after months of no moisture, studded everywhere with hunter-green oak trees that hunker across the hills in exotic positions. Santa Ynez is especially beautiful --the area where Ronald Reagan had his ranch, and vintners grow award-winning grapes. A local restaurateur holds a Livestrong event every fall, and we determined this year to be a part of it.



I, well, I'm no athlete. But I did the 5K walk through the beautiful little town so evocative of an old west town. Ranches spread out in front of me and beyond, alive with cattle and California live oaks. And some friendly horses came to greet me on a gravel trail. Oh indeed, I got my fill of western local color last Saturday, in addition to meeting some wonderful folks who join our family in the common cause: continuing to kick cancer's ass.



After delish local wines and a gourmet lunch, black linen napkins with yellow Livestrong bracelets as napkin rings, it was time to make the 1 1/2 hour trip back home. Along the way we visited one of my favorite places, Cold Spring Tavern, a stagecoach stop right out of the Old West whence it was built in the 1860's.



We came home rejuvenated, living strong, believing firm, and loving our family more than ever. If that's possible.

But these past eight months...we've learned that anything is possible.

Live strong....and prosper.

Tanya Writes About Her Award-Winning Chili

I will write all about yesterday's LAF
"Livestrong"
Walk/Run
/Ride in the
beautiful Santa Ynez valley
but I need time to upload the pix and we're off in a little bit to the fam's fantasy football league KICK-OFF party.

Spending the day with my favorite people --my kids, grandbaby, other relations and friends-- is my best kind of day. Before I sign off, I'm gonna pass along the recipe for which I won The Chili Bowl at the 2008 annual cook-off held each year during the Super Bowl...at which time also the most covered award in sports, our fantasy league trophy, is handed out.

(However, I have not claimed that trophy yet...)

Here's a pic of me with my hero and The Bowl at Yankee Stadium. And it's a "traveling" trophy which meant I took it along to New York with us!

This is a simple taco soup I got from a church cook-book with some of my own spin. And it's quite delish, if I do say so myself.

2 pounds ground beef or turkey.
1 envelope taco seasoning
1 1/2 cps water.
1 can (15 oz) mild chili beans
1 can (15 oz) whole kernel corn...or cut from two fresh cobs
1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, rinsed and drained. (For best effect, get the pintos
with jalapenos.)
1 can (15 oz) stewed tomatoes.
1 can (10 oz) diced tomatoes and green chilies, undrained
1 can (4 oz) chopped Ortega chilis
1 envelope ranch salad dressing mix
Add to your taste: a couple teaspoons jalapenos, juice from jalapenos, any taco or chili sauce.
Salt and pepper to taste.

In large kettle, brown meat and drain. Add taco seasoning and mix well. Stir in remaining ingredients, simmer uncovered for 15 minutes...or until heated through. Stir occasionally. Yields 6-8 servings.

For my award-winner, I slow-cooked all ingredients [meat cooked first] in my football-shaped Crock Pot for several hours. It was rarin' to go at tasting time.

Enjoy....and livestrong.

Tanya Writes About The CT Scan

It was hard, the other night, at CT Scan...the very place my hero collapsed last April. Seeing him lying there those months ago, well, I can't publicly put down what I thought had happened.

Just five days later, remission was announced. But that was when he was the sickest from the chemo, in TC terms: 3 X BEP. He couldn't even rejoice.

During our trip to Lake Tahoe in May, he and I managed to finally discuss those dark days, in front of the fireplace with late spring snow falling outside. In those days, I still woke up in the night, shaking, cold, even though we knew remission was afoot.

So when another CT Scan had to be done this week, the tremors started, the demons surged. The bad dreams came again. That ugly thing still manages to terrorize us.

All I can say is, when Dr. Schwartz called just now, assuring us the cancer is gone and my hero is in remission: Praise God. The last couple days have been lyrics from Tim McGraw's Live Like You Were Dying...waiting for the x-rays.

My hero confessed he can't help a little man-crush on this wonderful oncologist. That's okay. I've loved him ever since the dreadful day of diagnosis last February when he held me in a great big bear-hug and promised to watch my hero like a hawk. "We'll get this fixed," he promised.

He even gave me his cell phone number. (Have I ever used it? I confess yes. Once.)

Tomorrow we're participating in a Livestrong Fundraiser in the gorgeous Santa Ynez Valley of central California. My hero and our beautiful daughter are going to ride a half-metric, about 31 miles. I, well, I'm no athlete. He got me a lovely new bike recently (the Comfort Model, read: Old Lady) but tomorrow, I'll hobble by foot as long as I can.

Our son, DIL and the baby can't make it. But as always, they're with us in our hearts. We'll all be together on Sunday to launch our fantasy football league. I'm Wild Thang...and right now, I gotta go finish decorating my tee-shirt for the team jersey competition and get the guestroom ready for our babygirl to spend the night.

Thank you, Jesus, for the blessings that never stop. And please forgive those moments of unbelief that still manage to snarl my mind.

Livestrong.

Tanya Writes About "Lemon Jello" and Fantasy Football

Well, our vacation last week came at a good time. We booked it, as well as four other trips, during my hero's chemo treatments late last winter to remind us that we have a future. But this getaway arrived when we needed it most --helping me relax over losing our sweet Marley...and keeping him sort of calm as he faces (tomorrow) his first post-chemo CT scan.

Now, Dr. Schwartz is almost certain of a cure, but there's that "almost" for the first year or two when TC must be closely monitored. And while our confidence is high and our spirits are good, there's always that little demon of worry worming its way inside our heads.

I can't deny we get fretful and twirly.

So a few days ago, I had the Spa Treatment of ALL Spa Treatments to keep me calm. Oh, wow. It was the next-best-thing to, well, you know. Its name is "Limoncello" but lemon jello makes me smile.



First off came a Polynesian ritual involving a foot bath and foot massage, all tinged with lemon scent. Spa music by earphone. Little tinkling Zen bells. Awesome.

Then a personalized massage with lemon -scented aromatherapy. (I like Swedish with a tad of deep tissue mixed in...just go easy with the elbow.) Then lemon sorbet and herb-tinted water. Yummo.

Finally, something I've never seen or done. In the same therapy room, another massage table of teak, with drains. No, not like an autopsy stand. Comfy and towely...and here went the lemon body scrub followed by a body-length vichy shower with about ten spouts that washed everything off...to be followed by another massage with lemon body butter.

Oh goodness, that was lemon-heaven.

And while this was going on, my hero plotted my team for our family's Fantasy Football League. He loves "coaching" two teams...and every Super Bowl Sunday there is a trophy (and money) for the league winner. So far, it's never been me. But the day includes a Chili Cook-off...and after five years of my intense whining, my chili received top honors last January! (I'll get the award-winning recipe posted one of these days.)



All I really care about is naming my team and talking trash. I've already begun posting insults to my league-mates. This year I selected the name Wild Thang and am busy designing my jersey for the T-shirt contest. Kick-off party is Sunday at my son and DIL's. (Last year the baby was my "assistant coach" but this year his daddy snagged him for his "avatar"...)

(I had considered One Hot Mama after Trace Adkins but think I'll use that for my new ringtone instead.)

So wish me luck in this new season of smack-talk.

Also...wish my hero all your good thoughts and blessings, and bombard heaven with those prayers!

Thanks...and livestrong.

Tanya Writes About Hot Rocks

How do you mend a broken heart?

Hmmmm. That's a lyric from a song in my favorite movie, Notting Hill, when poor Will Thacker broods over "the American." Well, he got the American back, but that was a movie. I just don't think you ever can, at least not once your loved one dies.

They take a piece of your heart with you. Maybe a piece of your soul, too. You can heal maybe; maybe happy memories lace up that fissure, maybe the pain will ease with time, but mend completely?

I don't think so.

This afternoon, I walked downstairs but Marl wasn't on her favorite rug, turning her sleepy face to see what I was up to. Yesterday after I called the veterinary hospital to arrange her last sleep, I broke into sobs.

She came running from another favorite napping place, in front of the fireplace, and immediately besieged me with loving whines and messy kisses to help me out.

I guess in the humane sense, I was truly helping her out...but it hurts so bad.

Whew. I'd scheduled a nice long massage today for just that reason, hoping to get some relief. I explained to the masseuse about my sweet dog, and she commiserated; when she spied my Lance Armstrong Livestrong bracelet, I explained my hero's journey and his 18th week of remission. Her reply: man, you guys have had one heck of a year.

We have, haven't we? But he's well now. Marl's running across the Rainbow Bridge with her big sister Tawny. And then the massage therapist placed hot rocks on the neediest parts of me. My knotty neck. My stiff back. Then soothed hot rocks over the rest of me. One even nestled in the palm of my left hand.

Oh, beautiful.

My hero rescued me as he always does. He took our sweet girl even in his own grief, just to spare me.

When she gently slept, he brought back her collar, still with her name tag and license. He'll hotglue it around her feeding bowl and make it a planter.

And I'll plant some forget-me-nots.