tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39519937247231456422024-03-14T11:03:19.557-07:00West Coast Grace...when three become four...Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-86782192403367142722011-08-31T21:07:00.001-07:002011-08-31T21:21:02.326-07:00A little humour in the face of falling temperatures...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETxXSYbRTerHMVcg7mQoHGdTuj2T8gyuDXNsIzbEVhC7cCn8Rxg9x6YYoIrfYieLWGD-JRigJsgZ1tGyqu4QAAoLJSYpFREROMfGys_W2pIPxjinw2oyA2EnMO7qO5TMDfbzj3XPMqiQ/s1600/MP900437293.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiETxXSYbRTerHMVcg7mQoHGdTuj2T8gyuDXNsIzbEVhC7cCn8Rxg9x6YYoIrfYieLWGD-JRigJsgZ1tGyqu4QAAoLJSYpFREROMfGys_W2pIPxjinw2oyA2EnMO7qO5TMDfbzj3XPMqiQ/s400/MP900437293.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647240758554229810" /></a>
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<br />Otherwise known as, I need <span style="font-style:italic;">something</span> to laugh about regarding the weather if this rain and cloud mean the end of summer already.
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<br />The Official Canadian Temperature Conversion Chart:
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<br />50° Fahrenheit (10° C)
<br />Californians shiver uncontrollably.
<br />Canadians plant gardens.
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<br />35° Fahrenheit (1.6° C)
<br />Italian cars won't start.
<br />Canadians drive with the windows down and still wear shorts and T-shirts.
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<br />32° Fahrenheit (0° C)
<br />American water freezes.
<br />Canadians have the last cookout of the season.
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<br />0° Fahrenheit (-17.9 ° C)
<br />New York City landlords finally turn on the heat.
<br />Canadian Girl Guides still sell cookies door-to-door.
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<br />-60° Fahrenheit (-51° C)
<br />Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.
<br />Canadians pull down their earflaps.
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<br />-109.9° Fahrenheit (-78.5° C)
<br />Carbon dioxide freezes, makes dry ice.
<br />Canadians get frustrated when they can't thaw the keg.
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<br />-173° Fahrenheit (-114° C)
<br />Ethyl alcohol freezes.
<br />Canadians get a day off from work to go tobogganing.
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<br />-459.67° Fahrenheit (-273.15° C)
<br />Absolute zero; all atomic motion stops.
<br />Canadians start saying "Cold, eh?"
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<br />-500° Fahrenheit (-295° C)
<br />Hell freezes over.
<br />The Toronto Maple Leafs win the Stanley Cup. Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-2168832034339635472011-08-08T20:32:00.000-07:002011-08-10T09:25:17.328-07:00Random Things: A List<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1dKo8EPJIP4wlJiwuOtfWb8qF1pDMQ_378EujgCGjLd6-xNzQGNPlngf6a4iXjPDVwaVcgdkxS7VBHIPtDc00Q5Xb8my_OUDvoj7A2tDb1aiypf61ElGlu3HTmwPXzMiWoLMJQ0JuuOU/s1600/MP900341479.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1dKo8EPJIP4wlJiwuOtfWb8qF1pDMQ_378EujgCGjLd6-xNzQGNPlngf6a4iXjPDVwaVcgdkxS7VBHIPtDc00Q5Xb8my_OUDvoj7A2tDb1aiypf61ElGlu3HTmwPXzMiWoLMJQ0JuuOU/s400/MP900341479.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638744063683904354" /></a>
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<br />1. Hello. I know it's been a while since I've written. I'm not going to count the days because I don't have the time. tempo e denaro folks.
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<br />2. M and I celebrated our 7th anniversary last Saturday. We couldn't believe seven years had gone passed when it seemed possibly four years at the most. It has been a good seven years, challenging and wonderful at the same time. I remember the day like it was yesterday. We may have been late coming back from the hairdressers. The bridesmaids dresses may or may not have been closing properly, causing my three visiting aunts from Ontario to scramble after my three attendants to pin their dresses closed. Four or more pairs of black socks might have been borrowed from the pastor (who thankfully lived in a manse next door to the church) because the groom, the groomsmen, and possibly even the ushers did not remember to bring black socks. White socks with black tuxes - so classy. But it was a great day. I remember being nervous before the ceremony but being totally relaxed afterwards - it's done, we're married, now the party can start. I remember being served food and punch by my new father-in-law at the standing reception. Sushi - yum! Photographs, cruising around in a silver El Camino, laughing, enjoying the day. It was exactly the day we had planned out - a fun, relaxing day with eachother and our family and friends. We have been so blessed and are looking forward to many more years to annoy, I mean, love eachother.
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<br />3. To celebrate our anniversary, we went to Vancouver for supper and then strolled around the downtown area a bit. It was a beautiful, warm night that has been scarce this summer and we decided to grab a table at a pub right on the sidewalk and have a pint (or two). It was a great place to people watch. A woman walked by wearing acid-washed jeans and a fanny pack. A guy walked by with a bright yellow snake draped over his shoulders (yes it was real). Guess which scared me more? Hint: it wasn't the snake.
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<br />4. I love Swagbucks. I get free stuff for doing searches I would normally do for my job. It's awesome.
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<br />5. Just as I was working tonight I could not remember how to spell inevitably. It scared me. But then I spelled somatically right. So it's a wash. Phew, I'm okay.
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<br />6. My oldest baby A, turns 4 (four!) this Thursday. I'm in denial. I can't believe it has been four years. Where has the time gone? What a little pint-sized, fireball of blessing she has been. One is for sure - our life will never be boring.
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<br />6. I went to see <a href="http://www.thewiggles.com.au/">The Wiggles</a> with A as a birthday present. It was so much fun. I will be singing "Hot Potato, Hot Potato" the whole rest of the week but it was worth it. She had a blast singing and dancing. However, I have to say that riding the Sky Train made a bigger impression on her than seeing Anthony, Murray, Sam, and Captain Feathersword live on stage.
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<br />7. I have just said goodbye to someone I've spent a lot of time with the past few months and have known for almost a decade. It was hard shutting the book on that friendship, but I know I'll see him and his friends again, probably not for a while. Other old friends are clamouring for attention and I've been neglecting them and the new friends I could possibly make. I am talking, of course, of <span style="font-weight:bold;">Harry Potter</span>. The final movie came out a few weeks ago but I wanted to read the series over before I saw it. It was a bittersweet moment when I read the final page of the final book, knowing that the last movie was waiting for me to see it. And then what? I have a long relationship with Harry Potter. I started reading the series for a university class on Children's Literature. The books had been out before then and my sister loved them but I dismissed them as a fad. Then I was assigned to read the third book for my class. I decided to read the first two as well, to get the whole story. I was hooked by the first line. Since then, every year or so there has been the delicious, delightful anticipation of a new movie or book. But now that is gone and I am a bit sad. I felt the same way after finishing reading the whole <span style="font-weight:bold;">The Lord of the Rings</span> books consecutively. I felt like I was saying goodbye to old friends, who I spent a lot of time with (albeit procrastinating studying for finals). Anyways, it's time to move on and so I'm looking for some recommendations.
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<br />8. Costco had Christmas decorations in their store on Monday. Seems like it gets earlier and earlier every year. Pretty soon the stores will just leave them up all year round.
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<br />9. I don't really have anything important to say in #9. I just didn't feel like ending at #8. My younger but taller sister is getting married in 10 days. Things are busy but exciting. You won't see me for a while, but hopefully I'll be back before September. Happy August!Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-25822036315569952392011-06-24T17:31:00.000-07:002011-06-25T17:51:09.859-07:00Five MInute Friday - Wonder<center><a href="http://thegypsymama.com/category/five-minute-friday/"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/_lCeOMfY0_fQ/TWly2m-jN_I/AAAAAAAAFEY/k8HJ__cvkws/s200/5%20minute%20friday.jpg"/></a></center><br /><br />This is from the website: <a href="http://thegypsymama.com/">The Gypsy Mama</a>. It's called 5 Minute Friday and the rules are to write about the theme (this week is Wonder). But you're only allowed five minutes. <br /><br />I thought it might be a good way to get some regular writing. So here goes:<br /><br />Frank Sinatra sang a song about being "Young at Heart". <br /><br />At one point in my life that was my goal, to never lose that wide-eyed outlook on the world. Somehow though, in the midst of adult concerns like mortgages, taxes, fire insurance, housekeeping, politics, the economy, and most of all striving to be a good mom that got lost. I am slowly trying to find it again. <br /><br />For example, one morning this week as we were eating breakfast, a blue jay decided to duke it out with two robins for the worm-hunting rights in our garden. He was an arrogant fellow, bright blue body contrasting with black crowned head twisting and turning and exerting his rights. The robins, seemingly with the attitude of seeing it all before, gave ground. Only to return when the jay flew off after a matter of minutes, not content to stay in one spot. <br /><br />I could have turned my back on this spectacle in order to concentrate on getting breakfast into my two little girls, doing dishes, starting the tidy up. All the things that fit into the schedule and "need" to get done. But I didn't. Instead, I dragged my chair to the window so A could see and we watched the little drama play out between these creatures. She was enthralled. The colours, the bobbing heads, the pecking beaks, the black intelligent eyes, the flutter of wings. I experienced the wonder with her, through her eyes. <br /><br />I was glad that I ignored the "should do" and took a moment for wonder.<br /><br />The wonder of a creation that takes my breath away with its beauty. <br /><br />The wonder of the Creator who never ceases to amaze me with His love and grace.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-82363790909995168702011-05-17T21:01:00.000-07:002011-05-17T21:32:40.432-07:00My Favourite Things Monday: Books/Series<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqVME0hPVwcycsX7eclwnf4bJpCBKRBCx1YmpBlJARtliFYkGdexmi8UHWXkAfSbBZt3RYx1TVATd7vF_2E6WObkX7XZwpdGLlZyiCB4W7f1wJRSbaiHlSZouPeo5AFV2c12oVpShY44/s1600/MFTM+Header.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqVME0hPVwcycsX7eclwnf4bJpCBKRBCx1YmpBlJARtliFYkGdexmi8UHWXkAfSbBZt3RYx1TVATd7vF_2E6WObkX7XZwpdGLlZyiCB4W7f1wJRSbaiHlSZouPeo5AFV2c12oVpShY44/s400/MFTM+Header.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607901738288145170" /></a><br /><br /><br />My Favourite Things Monday, on a Tuesday - do you see the trend here?<br /><br />One might wonder how I find time to read, let alone re-read books, with two kids and a full-time job and a part-time job. But I do. I have to. It's a compulsion. I'm the kind of person who has at least two if not three books going at the same time. If I have three books on the go, one of them will be a cookbook. One is usually a fiction and the other is usually nonfiction. I go through the fiction faster than the nonfiction choice, but I like to have variety. And I usually like to leave my various books lying open all the around the house. I like it that way, but M doesn't. I don't really get it. <br /><br />This week's theme is books that we like to reread. Ever since I had to read <span style="font-style:italic;">Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban</span> for a university course, I fell in love the whole series. Almost fanatically. As in pre-ordering the books months before they came out. Staying up until the wee small hours in the morning, or sometimes not at all, because I couldn't put the book down. The seventh book came out a few years ago, and the final movie is due this summer. I really don't know what I'm going to do with myself, now that all things HP are finished. <br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfG98l6-Tx5fR59YEicxQTm45X5-9YEXryr2A9yq_vPnok2KR6Q29xURXVfMHqKfV7TLJH0-Bl8ru7leibsb_Kvb0FOaOGI_R33eRriNhLyJkkyFAmcTfPogh0kQseDxqDyYD_FmkNuUE/s1600/harry_potter_and_the_philosophers_stone.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfG98l6-Tx5fR59YEicxQTm45X5-9YEXryr2A9yq_vPnok2KR6Q29xURXVfMHqKfV7TLJH0-Bl8ru7leibsb_Kvb0FOaOGI_R33eRriNhLyJkkyFAmcTfPogh0kQseDxqDyYD_FmkNuUE/s400/harry_potter_and_the_philosophers_stone.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607901745232175154" /></a><br /><br />I think I can manage to find something to divert myself from my pain and nostalgia. <br /><br />As in re-reading the series again. For the nth time. <br /><br />However, there are other diversions. I've discovered these great books called <span style="font-weight:bold;">The Pink Carnation series</span>. Regency era romantic spy suspense combines with a little Bridget Jones or Becky Bloomwood. The modern-day heroine is a history graduate student doing research in England. It's not a huge stretch to see why I like this. <br /><br />I also return to <span style="font-style:italic;">Pride and Prejudice</span> or <span style="font-style:italic;">Sense and Sensibility</span> or the lesser known <span style="font-style:italic;">Persuasion</span> once in awhile. Pretty much anything in the historical or historical fiction category will catch my attention. Other authors I like are Philippa Gregory or Micheal Phillips (although he can be very pedantic at times).Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-72456294570852561282011-05-10T20:28:00.000-07:002011-06-23T21:15:14.479-07:00My Favourite Things Monday: Spring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1pwCSnWQ51LArXP3DcV_bbe0bY5vgaCCdm5-3jYe7NK7LvdiuK_wewV8jnUJdMnjbWTQIL4spu-XgQdDSFsKsIJflKHMbHtv6CH0O0Gi0C-QVeSzOjRuarRKMJoOD9NQ1ckJC-iBHuw/s1600/MFTM+Header.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1pwCSnWQ51LArXP3DcV_bbe0bY5vgaCCdm5-3jYe7NK7LvdiuK_wewV8jnUJdMnjbWTQIL4spu-XgQdDSFsKsIJflKHMbHtv6CH0O0Gi0C-QVeSzOjRuarRKMJoOD9NQ1ckJC-iBHuw/s400/MFTM+Header.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605295465124342914" /></a><br /><br />After a hiatus from MFTM, here it is again, with an appropriate theme: Spring. <br /><br />My friend <a href="http://lifeastwo.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-favourite-things-monday_09.html">here</a> wrote about Spring blossoms. And while I love the explosion of colour that is taking place, with some tulips blooming as big as baseballs, my favourite part of Spring this year has been the ability to do this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDUg_T-YYIEq-lCIrZy_fZhMGe-fLcmwKilTigGD9zijqQ6myyonDJEAucBMi02A7Bn-UfmG3CIOtYFXQyVs7OPorenuyiemljxhg01IXxMcfF3ZI_GsIi7LPVgxAzJ_-FHTNuvV1fv4/s1600/MP900406845.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijDUg_T-YYIEq-lCIrZy_fZhMGe-fLcmwKilTigGD9zijqQ6myyonDJEAucBMi02A7Bn-UfmG3CIOtYFXQyVs7OPorenuyiemljxhg01IXxMcfF3ZI_GsIi7LPVgxAzJ_-FHTNuvV1fv4/s400/MP900406845.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621634937303766594" /></a><br /><br />It has been a long, cold, wet, rainy Spring here on the West Coast. Apparently, we can blame this on La Nina. M and I were talking just the other day about how warmer it felt last year in February, when we went to Vancouver to check out the Olympics, than it was last Saturday, attending a very drizzly May wedding. <br /><br />But there have been days, few and far between, where the sun has teased us for an afternoon, as if to assure that he's still there, although being coy. And so, making hay while the sun shines (always think of Pa Ingalls when this phrase comes to mind), I gather my laundry and out I go. <br /><br />As usual, I have company in the form of my two little girls who have been cooped up way too much this rainy season. They follow me like eager puppies being let out of the kennel, almost tripping over my feet or their own. I let them run around the deck while I hang the clothes up. They are sad to go back in when I'm done. I tell them we'll play outside later when it has warmed up a little. <br /><br />If it hasn't starting raining by the afternoon.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-37766750486335295122011-05-07T20:04:00.000-07:002011-06-23T20:58:29.119-07:00Motherhood Manifesto: Because ALL Moms are SuperBecause ALL Moms are Super <br /><br />This entry has been a long time in the writing. A lot of different ideas, words, conversations, etc. have been brewing in my mind for a few months. I thought it would be fitting for them all to come together on this day (commercially) set aside to celebrate motherhood.<br /><br />It all started off with a short tangent during Tuesday Morning Bible Study early on in the new year.<br /><br />As a side note, I love the ladies that gather together on Tuesday mornings. We are at different stages of life as women, wives, and mothers and yet we all come as Daughters of a King - Who loves us immensely and unconditionally. I love being able to share “war stories” with other mothers of young children. Often, while sharing a story, I am able to laugh at an experience that had originally stressed me out. It is good to learn to laugh and perhaps not take myself so seriously. I also deeply appreciate the wisdom that comes from women whose children are older – who have been there – and are generous with their encouragement and kind in their wisdom. Truly, a blessing.<br /><br />Anyways, one morning we went on a tangent and someone shared how sometimes she felt inadequate when she read on Facebook how someone she knew had kids bathed, ran a mile, baked bread, washed the clothes, etc., fill in the blanks... and it was only 10 in the morning. <br /><br />I am rewriting what she said but the gist is the same. And we all are prey to it. The comparison. The how-do-I-measure-up? The I’m-still-in-my-pajamas-at-10-so-there-must-be-something-wrong-with-me. The pressure. More often than not it is self induced. <br /><br />Nowadays, it is not enough to be Mom or a Stay at Home Mom. (note that I didn’t say “just a Mom”. Really. There is no such thing.) <br /><br />Perfection is required. Or at least the allusion of perfection. Our hair: coiffed. Our clothes: stylish, clean (as in free from those shoulder mucous swipes or the greasy hand prints at thigh height). Our kids: neat, tidy, and presentable at all times (never mind the runny noses or the dirty knees or the scraggly hair coming out of the bows). We bring our kids to play dates two times a week as well as music groups and gymnastics We do this, all the while keeping our house sparkling and cooking healthy meals for our family. And, if that’s not enough, we might even be a WAHM (Work At Home Mom – which is a misnomer really, because what Mom doesn’t work?) and have some sort of cottage industry going one where we make boutique _____ (insert craft here) and sell it on Etsy or eBay. We wake up at 6 am to work out, thereby keeping our firm form, even after having two or three kids. <br /><br />Am I exaggerating? Is anyone else laughing at this unattainable idea of perfection that is being foisted on us women? Does anyone else ask Who are we being perfect for? or Why the pretense?<br /><br />This Mothers Day, I’d like to take a stand against the “SuperMom syndrome” that is so prevalent and pressuring. I ask you to do the same. We need to come together and agree to stop doing this to each other. We need to agree to be real with what life is like and accept ourselves and each other and life without comparison or worry and with love, grace, and humour – even in the face of snot swipes on sleeves or spit up on shoulders or being late (yet again). Let’s agree to stop playing the perfection game. <br /><br />We have been called by God to be mothers and caretakers of His little ones. It’s a daunting and scary and challenging task. It sometimes – or often – feels undoable. But we have hope. He calls and also equips. He is always with us. He forgives our shortcomings. He is the ultimate Encourager through His Word. We “can do all things through Christ who strengthens us.” <br /><br />So let us agree to encourage each other in this shared calling and spur one another on with love and kindness and a listening ear. Let us share our joy on the days when we do feel like a “supermom” and the laundry and the baking and the cleaning does get done in record time. Perhaps not by 10, but by the end of day. Let’s share laughter (and learn to laugh) at the days where, when we’ve been up with crying babies half the night, we are still in our PJs at 10 and the house doesn’t get too much attention that day. Those are often the days when Murphy’s law applies and someone unexpectedly shows up. Let’s realize that being a mother or housewife means more than a clean house and some days you just want to spend the whole time playing with your children. Let’s all recognize and be able to openly acknowledge that we don’t have it all together all the time.<br /><br />Being a mother is busy and dirty and noisy and seemingly goes from one diaper change to the next. It is wiping noses and cleaning up spills and vacuuming up cheerios and fish crackers every day. <br /><br />Being a mother is smiles and hugs and songs and giggles and love and joy and excitement and amazement. It is a calling. It is a blessing. When you’re a Mom, every day is Mother’s Day, whether Hallmark says so or not.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-7322319577736008112011-03-23T09:49:00.000-07:002011-03-23T10:04:51.057-07:00Medical Word of the Day: Xanthelasma<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmcNDDqZlVRi69vQJMnuUaBQAgbOi3DwKM4-THGuE1nCrbCCRSuoqNShreaziVuHkE6pk0euFX70ttZiQzWSh55Zrlul-aNZslcp7OvskyDoJzD2DXdBKgGjjvelmcDrnkadP6AjYaLw/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfmcNDDqZlVRi69vQJMnuUaBQAgbOi3DwKM4-THGuE1nCrbCCRSuoqNShreaziVuHkE6pk0euFX70ttZiQzWSh55Zrlul-aNZslcp7OvskyDoJzD2DXdBKgGjjvelmcDrnkadP6AjYaLw/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Xanthelasma: also called an xanthoma, is a fatty skin growth. It looks like a sore or bump under the skin. It's usually flat, soft to the touch, and yellow in color. It has sharp, distinct edges. They are usually more common in people with high blood lipids (or fats). Comes from the Greek word xanthos for yellow.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-68458261805870070452011-03-09T21:10:00.000-08:002011-03-09T21:16:18.994-08:00Medical Word of the Day: Cardiac tamponade<a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS891n66bncgmZORKZGb8uU5kGiqkKFM2pZ8ykVjTBlXB7YDsIytjCwWZ0GDs3e51_Nh101Hifdb3SUZWZcCYukpAO2CwS-4ouV8aTVVXr2JoskrHI-jW1g98FMr87BVnx48BZYxaYWA/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMS891n66bncgmZORKZGb8uU5kGiqkKFM2pZ8ykVjTBlXB7YDsIytjCwWZ0GDs3e51_Nh101Hifdb3SUZWZcCYukpAO2CwS-4ouV8aTVVXr2JoskrHI-jW1g98FMr87BVnx48BZYxaYWA/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /></a> <div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Cardiac tamponade: the compression of the heart that occurs when blood or fluid builds up in the space between the myocardium (heart muscle) and the pericardium (outer covering sac of the heart). Some symptoms include anxiety or restlessness, chest pain, rapid breathing or difficulty breathing. <br /><br />It is not to be confused with tapenade, which is a yummy dip made from olives. I get mixed up all the time. It's a good thing I'm not a doctor.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-3495078870617243562011-02-22T21:37:00.000-08:002011-06-25T18:07:54.288-07:00old words, same meaning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_t1XNkJCVZP-pU6ZV7DvpIIfNBrazGJkWjiUOJLNRIj9GKKiTmSTmD09qIXHCPzLiemRg1rUpY5wNJiN4gi3ZHd1SF9IXfRys3qI5co0HrsTtYKWyAMgY7cMi4FlDN_3DkuetIOoNGw/s1600/MP900422953.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_t1XNkJCVZP-pU6ZV7DvpIIfNBrazGJkWjiUOJLNRIj9GKKiTmSTmD09qIXHCPzLiemRg1rUpY5wNJiN4gi3ZHd1SF9IXfRys3qI5co0HrsTtYKWyAMgY7cMi4FlDN_3DkuetIOoNGw/s400/MP900422953.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622328840910689714" /></a><br />Give us this day our daily bread... I needed a reminder of these words...<br /><br />We recently finished a sermon series on the Lord's Prayer in our church. Even though I've heard and said those words countless number of times during my life they took on new meaning the past few months.<br /><br />One particular phrase persists in staying at the forefront of my mind: Give us this day our daily bread.<br /><br />The word bread is important, my pastor said. Jesus was teaching us to pray for what we needed for life, for living, for this day.<br /><br />Jesus wasn't teaching us, Give us this day our daily dessert.<br /><br />Food is a big deal in our house these days as Anneka is learning to eat and appreciate solids. She loves sweet potatoes and beans; peas are definitely not her favourite. Homemade applesauce from Grandma is also a big hit. Cheerios give her a chance to relieve some teething pain by chomping on something hard and also practice that important hand-eye coordination... Her gastronomic adventures are just beginning.<br /><br />The other day my Dad told us about a conversation he had with a man who had traveled to Costa Rica... he spoke about a man whose house consisted of poles in the ground with bits of tin attached on top like an awning and people who were thankful for one meal a day...<br /><br />I face Anneka as she sits in her high chair, little mouth open wide for food like a baby bird's. As I try to feed her as cleanly as possible (she is learning how to eat, but I, as first-time mom, am also learning how to feed her) I realise how blessed we are. Meals are not gourmet at our house, but we never have to worry where our next meal will come from. Our house is not as fancy or as done-up or as colour-coordinated as we might like and our furniture might be just on the good side of shabby, but we don't have to worry about the cold and the rain...<br /><br />It is hard not to be swept up in the rush for that perfect pillow or paint chip... or to think how much better our house will look if we could afford to put new carpet in or if I could just get those fabulous candles... So much importance is put on things and appearances that don't mean anything.<br /><br />As Anneka finishes her food and smiles up at me with a carrot-coloured grin I know that God not only cares for me and gives me and my loved ones what we need for each and every day, He is also feasting me with dessert...<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">originally posted in March 2008</span> <a href="http://northernlightsview.blogspot.com/2008/03/give-us-this-day.html">here</a>Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-32614452553410326132011-02-15T15:50:00.000-08:002011-06-23T21:07:32.486-07:00ticking away<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVC35xiD8N9LpI7wGBpiSj8Gsr8d_DL1X1faPkQErnOvTX6M9UyeJcgP9Ou3_osP_oV9RquCzX65ffUwiRXTgJFJVkaHka_GNuUf048u6YtEt3e_lxY32CbWYuO3DW6gHiFohOmFCqIcc/s1600/MB900385227.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVC35xiD8N9LpI7wGBpiSj8Gsr8d_DL1X1faPkQErnOvTX6M9UyeJcgP9Ou3_osP_oV9RquCzX65ffUwiRXTgJFJVkaHka_GNuUf048u6YtEt3e_lxY32CbWYuO3DW6gHiFohOmFCqIcc/s400/MB900385227.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621633058762458770" /></a><br /><br />So I had these great plans (even to the point of making it a Resolution) of applying myself more diligently to my writing and my blog. Work on My Great First Novel has been put on the backburner as I tend to my young children and my hard-working husband. As any parent of young children (and maybe not-so-young children) knows, one usually does not have the energy even to brew a refreshing cup of tea (or pour a nice glass of wine, I'm just saying...) in the evening, let alone do anything that smacks of extra exertion. Perhaps a folding of an article of laundry or two, but any real work takes supreme, mind-over-matter effort.<br /><br />But I am okay with that. Life right now centres around two little girls who giggle and smile and cry and laugh and bug each other and me and make life anything but boring. Writing can wait; first words or smiles or steps or sentences cannot. Besides, ideas come to me at all hours of the day or night (especially when insomnia comes to call) and those all get jotted down, in the view that someday they <br />might become a sentence or paragraph of something grander. My intention was to somehow fit it all in. If I couldn't blog every day, I was going to aim for every other day or perhaps twice a week. To get some juices flowing if only a little faster than molasses in winter. <br /><br />As you can see, since January, that has not happened. We have not, as you might have worried (and I know you were worried), fallen off the planet. It's just that the busy-ness of life in the West Coast Grace household stepped up a notch since M went back to school the first week of January. Since I'm the only one working, that's what I've been doing more of... working. M gets home in the afternoon and that's when I place myself in front of my computer, valiantly fight against the temptation of Facebook and email and all the other blogs I follow, and work. My laundry is suffering. As I type, there are at least three baskets full waiting to be folded and one more in the dryer. I figure it's okay as long as we all have clean clothes. We're down to the one-month-more mark and I will be happy when it's over. <br /><br />So rest assured, it's not abandoned just postponed. At least until the ides of March, which will hopefully be more beneficial for us than for Caesar. (Hey, it's my 100th post, if I can't get away with a corny literary allusion here, when can I?)Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-42061136439293132052011-02-07T17:43:00.000-08:002011-02-07T17:46:37.921-08:00Mother of a Sale - Fuzzibunz!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAD_UflWZWc-lYsdyqzBoG7kDs7MvLho-9RnwMfMZdLcwZlh15T8u_198EAjR2VqikDM9fl01DlA1B75jaT_gwwgCT07tegdC6axAi5hdJLTzNtsOdczpvcpbB2Jc4sTRlT8Ngcyf0fU/s1600/daily_alert_mail_fuzzi_bunz_feb7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAD_UflWZWc-lYsdyqzBoG7kDs7MvLho-9RnwMfMZdLcwZlh15T8u_198EAjR2VqikDM9fl01DlA1B75jaT_gwwgCT07tegdC6axAi5hdJLTzNtsOdczpvcpbB2Jc4sTRlT8Ngcyf0fU/s320/daily_alert_mail_fuzzi_bunz_feb7.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571129119006627666" /></a><br /><br />I'm sharing this because I love this site and I get a chance to test out and review some cloth diapers!Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-44660080275394480762011-01-18T20:10:00.000-08:002011-01-18T20:17:28.611-08:00Medical Word of the Day: cryptic tonsillitis<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ynrcfyTE9goNbc278s5lACDD3BFm31UV1n4lKvYgx01ayOS0bcrgWyItypjXPg2D8SIaIs7GeWvEc5gnIWSB4vrmmAF6HUfsh6RboF2DXhYuRBmGDoZWNo-WMVueR87SP0IfoOq9u30/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ynrcfyTE9goNbc278s5lACDD3BFm31UV1n4lKvYgx01ayOS0bcrgWyItypjXPg2D8SIaIs7GeWvEc5gnIWSB4vrmmAF6HUfsh6RboF2DXhYuRBmGDoZWNo-WMVueR87SP0IfoOq9u30/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Cryptic tonsillitis: the tonsils contain many crevices called "crypts" and in some people, these tonsilar crevices become full of white debris that has a foul odor; this debris is made up of bacteria, food particles, dried mucus and dead white cells. This can lead to halitosis (or bad breath). The debris is referred to as tonsil stones or a "tonsillolith".<br /><br />Occasionally in some people a low-grade sore throat will accompany the presence of tonsillolith. Cryptic tonsillitis will come and go, although the removal of the tonsils altogether is the only way for a real, longterm cure. <br /><br />And you thought just plain old tonsillitis was bad...Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-58785994242500644112011-01-10T18:13:00.000-08:002011-01-11T19:34:28.900-08:00My Favourite Things Monday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7f9F8rxan6TSG6ZcrBpznehWwQxcv9rSVmBBzpf9es9q1edpj0orwDMHdmz5me_CEVcwsjHfzy62R9dbRIcsIz-As93LUWPDnb2CXKiqPpXXW0dSbP0t5lOM9jV10XeJ02DF892miXI/s1600/MFTM+Header.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7f9F8rxan6TSG6ZcrBpznehWwQxcv9rSVmBBzpf9es9q1edpj0orwDMHdmz5me_CEVcwsjHfzy62R9dbRIcsIz-As93LUWPDnb2CXKiqPpXXW0dSbP0t5lOM9jV10XeJ02DF892miXI/s320/MFTM+Header.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561116836924577026" /></a><br /><br />This week's theme is jewelery. Perhaps a better title would be "Favourite jewelery I have lost and have not found back." I have a couple of those. For example, a pair of gold twirly earrings that M had given me for my birthday. Lost for good last year under a foot of snow somewhere in Telkwa, BC. Another pair of gold earrings I got for Christmas from my father-in-law before he was my father-in-law are lying somewhere at the Vancouver Aquarium. I like to think that Milo the sea otter found it somehow and is keeping it as a toy. Makes me feel a little bit better about losing them. <br /><br />Since it's too late for Christmas, guess what I'll be asking for my birthday this year?Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-59666270758544199702011-01-10T15:53:00.000-08:002011-01-18T21:01:02.326-08:00it's a wonderful life: a list<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhygpt0Rm_5wTzYtfSwZlUcZbgJBwUoQBiPHqxxy_yCeewYW2CLML6LHeqRCFQnJLHGi2HqouXcytaKqqm84PYhEzmobw_0bGY66IASG_0qpXpKmAJsrIXt_furNO0yinhDrssqCBAQGmk/s1600/its-a-wonderful-life.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhygpt0Rm_5wTzYtfSwZlUcZbgJBwUoQBiPHqxxy_yCeewYW2CLML6LHeqRCFQnJLHGi2HqouXcytaKqqm84PYhEzmobw_0bGY66IASG_0qpXpKmAJsrIXt_furNO0yinhDrssqCBAQGmk/s320/its-a-wonderful-life.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561067898465082818" /></a><br /><br />1. I watched <span style="font-style:italic;">It's a Wonderful Life</span> for the first time in my life this past holiday season. It was wonderful (sorry for that). It struck me as kind of <span style="font-style:italic;">A Christmas Carol</span> in reverse. Whereas Scrooge needs a hard push by the ghosts to get him to see the errors of his ways, George Bailey needs a nudge to see the value of a life lived generously, a life lived out of love for others. It was a wonderful (there it is again!) way to take a break from the wonderful busy-ness and craziness of our holiday season.<br /><br />2. Big White. We started off our holidays with a quick trip to Big White with some friends. What a great visit. The men skied. The women talked like only good friends can and relaxed while the kids played and entertained each other. When a couple of good, old friends get together, it always feels like a holiday. And when a weekend away feels like a week-long holiday, it's even better.<br /><br />3. Playing tourist in my own backyard. I love it when out of town guests come and I get to see my neck of the woods through new eyes. Although the new eyes still viewed the Olympic torch as an eyesore. Robson Street, Granville Island, Tsunami Sushi, the Aquarium... Vancouver is a wonderful city, but abnormally cold... Baby E spent the day at Granville Island being bundled up as we trundled along. A couldn't get enough of the whales, otters, Nemo fish, dolphins, sharks, turtles, sea horses, birds.... she was talking about them for weeks afterwards. I see National Geographic in her future...<br /><br />4. I mentioned family. We had hosts of out of town guests here in BC for Christmas and New Years. It was busy. It was fun. We stayed out way too late. We ate way too much good food. And then we got sick and it wasn't so fun anymore. But then we all got better and went right back at it. We got an extended holiday mode because some family didn't leave until the week after New Years. It took us a week to recover, which is the reason you're reading this now instead of before. <br /><br />5. I feel like this list needs five items. It cannot be complete without a number five. Here's my wish to you for a wonderful, grace-full 2011!Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-39187035257101999972011-01-08T18:55:00.000-08:002011-01-08T19:18:49.477-08:00Medical Word of the Day: Caliectasis<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEits3KynjeheBrgIanNP2zuX1z_QTjj3KXeBM51xG3dLCa1xLTqE2kgNnzB7IiW_xOki-jXzifSnhjU39qtVMpvWfoOC7m5oXKRKiSxQAu40c0Sx2S2PGpizl0EVxxv99fa8lNz3aHfQKM/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEits3KynjeheBrgIanNP2zuX1z_QTjj3KXeBM51xG3dLCa1xLTqE2kgNnzB7IiW_xOki-jXzifSnhjU39qtVMpvWfoOC7m5oXKRKiSxQAu40c0Sx2S2PGpizl0EVxxv99fa8lNz3aHfQKM/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Caliectasis: dilation of the calices (single calyx), usually due to obstruction or infection.<br /><br />Calices is the plural of calyx. A calyx is a cuplike division of the renal pelvis. For a little bit of etymology, the word calyx comes from the Latin word for cup. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPbdGeBI3eQZ4Zhavm41gH1xZPgAKenL267mbsnmx1aKxJE6l9Zdkiu4irDUvptFUAaaq_tCVBN1P9-gnSCB4VbP0q1dP211q4WRVZGhwlRazyFGAacg2tKW1vYMop9MnpGKAyLwSsJo/s1600/kidney2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPbdGeBI3eQZ4Zhavm41gH1xZPgAKenL267mbsnmx1aKxJE6l9Zdkiu4irDUvptFUAaaq_tCVBN1P9-gnSCB4VbP0q1dP211q4WRVZGhwlRazyFGAacg2tKW1vYMop9MnpGKAyLwSsJo/s320/kidney2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560020256491732258" /></a>Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-9541345764711477092010-12-21T20:30:00.000-08:002010-12-21T20:58:00.918-08:00My Favourite Things Monday (on a Tuesday)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzu4TislMQdc9BaxRd0-lqdBCSiKvLXpTq1Wkik-AZSesLQzm_G9Dj29aKZ5Zgbmhq1miTzbdZ814ADhBOz3up2K54DzL8Y2nziLyJJQs1IOGdgAzoHQ6dK4kKrDLgLaYUzuHPQuXYWE/s1600/mftm.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzu4TislMQdc9BaxRd0-lqdBCSiKvLXpTq1Wkik-AZSesLQzm_G9Dj29aKZ5Zgbmhq1miTzbdZ814ADhBOz3up2K54DzL8Y2nziLyJJQs1IOGdgAzoHQ6dK4kKrDLgLaYUzuHPQuXYWE/s320/mftm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553364291910431858" /></a><br /><br />This week's theme was favourite kitchen gadget. I have two that I dearly love. I may not use them all the time, but when I use them, I feel better about the task at hand. <br /><br />The first is a grapefruit knife. We have become reacquainted over the past few months as the Summer and Fall fruits have slowly ebbed in freshness and availability. With Winter comes the grapefruit and this curved knife makes eating it all the easier because not only can you separate the fruit from the outer rind, you can also cut the segments into separate pieces. Genius. The job becomes that much more fun if the grapefruit is exceptionally juicy. Breakfast! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C6_SeRSglFciLzdaXjtyaVaYkw3jIR_JtFEdSeZ73ZWvrUgTdH3JPnGWIGzKzlTy9Ys1sfaCfRerb-LKhuGN4sETnMPBFi0w2wurkHCyuvOse7s5J2vgDDU0lc-zu0H14t7bRMw6uGk/s1600/grapefruit+knife.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C6_SeRSglFciLzdaXjtyaVaYkw3jIR_JtFEdSeZ73ZWvrUgTdH3JPnGWIGzKzlTy9Ys1sfaCfRerb-LKhuGN4sETnMPBFi0w2wurkHCyuvOse7s5J2vgDDU0lc-zu0H14t7bRMw6uGk/s320/grapefruit+knife.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553364387084229346" /></a><br /><br />Mine is not exactly like this because I ordered my a long time ago from Pampered Chef, but apparently they don't cell them anymore. <br /><br />My other favourite is this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaCNqUb5IfW5v4rB6OP8c_62znAIlNDFQ7dczWyH5H2QrxDcnjoblO24RtKT5Lnd3sNd6O3KEk_lNHDCOhGBh_atWLHQeHnNvNIKhYHylSrv56pIG9FYtZAbvvD0h8wPaRvVc0I9uicY/s1600/wooden+spoon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaCNqUb5IfW5v4rB6OP8c_62znAIlNDFQ7dczWyH5H2QrxDcnjoblO24RtKT5Lnd3sNd6O3KEk_lNHDCOhGBh_atWLHQeHnNvNIKhYHylSrv56pIG9FYtZAbvvD0h8wPaRvVc0I9uicY/s320/wooden+spoon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553364842742564386" /></a><br /><br />I have three of these in varying sizes ranging from medium to extra large. They are real wood. They are made in France. They are a good handful. They make me feel like a real chef when I'm cooking. Because the closest thing to a real chef I'm going to get right now is only just to feel like one. Again, mine are not exactly like this one. I ordered mine a couple of years ago from Victorian Epicure and they don't sell them anymore. I may just cry if any of mine break and I can't find a suitable replacement. <br /><br />If you're wondering why I wasn't enterprising enough to take pictures of my own things and post them on here - I have a baby and a preschooler and I work and it's Christmas and I haven't even downloaded the family picture I'm going to use for my Christmas card yet. Meaning I haven't even sent out cards yet. <br /><br />But I still have 3 more days. I should be fine. <br /><br /><br /><br />Photos courtesy of <a href="http://www.cheftools.com/">Chef Tools Online</a>Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-26895040311546605162010-12-09T11:23:00.000-08:002011-06-23T21:37:38.254-07:00when 3 become 4: get me to the church on timeCertainly, for most people, Baby #1 is a big adjustment. The newness. The change. This Other Person to care for. Life becomes very different. But really, after a while, you realise that Baby #1 doesn't really cramp his/her parents' style too much. If you want to go out to a friend's house on a Friday night, just take her along and put her to bed there. Pack and plays are a mother's (and a father's) best friend sometimes. The best invention ever, if you ask me. Even better than sliced bread (because I've mastered the art of slicing my own). For us, getting ready to go out, to church for example, only required an extra 45 minutes in the morning, feeding time included. <br /><br />It's a whole different game when 3 become 4. You would think that with 2 parents and 2 kids it's easy to divide and conquer. And usually it works out that way, with the baby being the easy one - feeding, dressing, napping, transferring to car seat, leaving. Done.<br /><br />It looks so good, so easy, on the page. But it's exactly when it looks and feels like it's going good that suddenly it just doesn't. <br /><br />You're all ready to walk out the door and Baby E has a diaper blowout or a massive spewing spit up. So much for the groceries.<br /><br />Or all 4 of you are sitting the car, dressed in Sunday best, on time for once, and the car won't start. Because someone, and we're not mentioning any names here, bumped the back hatch light on while heaving the buggy into the car the previous day, after a walk in the park. So it stayed on all night. So of course the battery is dead. So much for church.<br /><br />Or you're putting your daughter's shoes and suddenly there's a puddle on the stairs. "Mommy, I peed." No, really. So much for being at Grandma's on time.<br /><br />You see where I'm going with this. <br /><br />One lesson I have yet to learn well is that when life throws those OOPS moments at you, there's only one thing to do (only one thing you can do, really): laugh. My tendency is to stress over it. I tend to take life and myself just a little too seriously. But I have come to realise that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can't get to church, or the grocery store, or the park, or so-and-so's house, on time because kids do pee and puke and cry and cars do break down or batteries die at the most inopportune moments. There will come a time when I will probably be able to get to places on time because I won't have shoes to tie, coats to zip, tears to dry, or accidents or spills to clean up... and I know that I will miss it.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-53372232081350941502010-12-07T15:33:00.000-08:002010-12-07T15:35:27.667-08:00Medical Word of the Day: keratocanthoma<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaG9i5-qL_A4k2vjFlETopSJQJOL5gtIofEEYQEoJOhC5m4zd0wsZR6VzGbSU1uLUEL21hiBlTi7Kkg7WUvqxn5xuifmip-G8RSLCl7ik2AS5Dag3-FXTbwbs8ZnMX5dKQ1w6HKdAUuM/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaG9i5-qL_A4k2vjFlETopSJQJOL5gtIofEEYQEoJOhC5m4zd0wsZR6VzGbSU1uLUEL21hiBlTi7Kkg7WUvqxn5xuifmip-G8RSLCl7ik2AS5Dag3-FXTbwbs8ZnMX5dKQ1w6HKdAUuM/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />keratocanthoma: are rapidly growing, red, dome-shaped bumps (papules/nodules) with central craters. Occasionally, these will disappear spontaneously. They are often treated to avoid further involvement or destruction of underlying tissue. They are of concern because of the similarity to squamous cell cancer.<br /><br />(from the Greek kerat - meaning horn.)Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-31569039407393610962010-12-07T15:05:00.000-08:002010-12-07T15:34:30.131-08:00medical word of the day: proptosis<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJpau5_9aQZvcUkjFFeT9dMcTWmZm2DI-p_y1ELFCOkjWjTiFdXoR2G9ix_XqP3uDLaPjWT-zc92166IhNRRMq0Si56DHznl29JtvG4K6bRKmTS1qMcpve4pYg3TeQHgJapVkiDrC2aQ/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg'><img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJpau5_9aQZvcUkjFFeT9dMcTWmZm2DI-p_y1ELFCOkjWjTiFdXoR2G9ix_XqP3uDLaPjWT-zc92166IhNRRMq0Si56DHznl29JtvG4K6bRKmTS1qMcpve4pYg3TeQHgJapVkiDrC2aQ/s320/dictionary+page.jpg' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div><br /><br />Proptosis: the abnormal protrusion (bulging out) of one or both eyeballs; this could be an indication of something serious.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-82901912435213741402010-12-07T14:38:00.000-08:002010-12-07T19:33:19.627-08:00My Favourite Things Monday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCUOuHh62t3zRd6hkOEkdWB6ig7agXFzqWHcn8Oi8DzvXa-Pc4KOsPREnSR-Fd4j8bxEBC13B_3QnSdNL4DY_PE7BE29ZQzMekXudRCYGbbskFmvyLu6oiDBlDhO1uUWI0T_V-2Oy2Jk/s1600/mftm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCUOuHh62t3zRd6hkOEkdWB6ig7agXFzqWHcn8Oi8DzvXa-Pc4KOsPREnSR-Fd4j8bxEBC13B_3QnSdNL4DY_PE7BE29ZQzMekXudRCYGbbskFmvyLu6oiDBlDhO1uUWI0T_V-2Oy2Jk/s320/mftm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548091234423030850" /></a><br /><br />I've been trying to think of ways to keep me blogging in ways other than regular updates of Medical Word of the Day. Although it helps me remember odd medical words and could provide some interest to other logophiles out there, I wanted something a little more personal to write about. My friend <a href="http://www.lifeastwo.blogspot.com/">Thelma</a> started this weekly entry about some of her favourite things. This could be fun. <br /><br />This week's entry was a favourite spice. Mine is Bay Leaves. I love the name in French - feuille de laurier. Makes me think of the name Laura and former prime minister Wilfrid Laurier (yes I am an unapologetic history geek). I love the scent and I love the taste. But most of all I love this new recipe I discovered in an old file of mine where it calls for bay leaves that have been crushed and sprinkled over chicken as it braising. The full beauty and richness of bay leaves is fully released when you do this, in a way that dropping a few leaves in a pot of soup or spaghetti sauce does not. Delicious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3RBCNblfqfhqrZv1UEH6z9jZqXYsTC-Y2GEuFT3VV9mMv9w-UTGuQ29PSxhMsyP8GqlcAyAAoy5LqN2jiPjXDxoztn0sW9bwtn2yp3eueuTEflk0R1w4nqpEwPmxyFjMsRHU1pppD-4/s1600/Fresh-and-Dried-Bay-Leaves.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3RBCNblfqfhqrZv1UEH6z9jZqXYsTC-Y2GEuFT3VV9mMv9w-UTGuQ29PSxhMsyP8GqlcAyAAoy5LqN2jiPjXDxoztn0sW9bwtn2yp3eueuTEflk0R1w4nqpEwPmxyFjMsRHU1pppD-4/s320/Fresh-and-Dried-Bay-Leaves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548091391234559186" /></a><br /><br />And yes, I know I posted this on a Tuesday, but really, time goes by fast enough already, are you going to quibble about a day?Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-28284385068424962662010-11-22T22:00:00.000-08:002010-11-23T12:47:41.066-08:00You can't HANDLE the thirsty!Further to my last post (see below). I felt the need to add and clarify a few points. I hope you read The Pioneer Woman's ever-so funny <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/2010/11/you-cant-handle-the-homeschooling/">post</a>. If you haven't go and read it, you won't understand this next bit. <br /><br />The very next day after reading this, I was determined to try it out. When A whined that she was thirsty, I chuckled inwardly at the thought of belting out "You can't HANDLE the thirsty!" <br /><br />I decided to try it out and it didn't go so well. For the record, I did NOT yell it out Jack Nicholson style, but A still looked at me as if I was going crazy and almost started crying.<br /><br />I quickly told her I was just joking around (insert feeble hahaha here)and meekly got her some apple juice. Perhaps we have to wait until she's a little older to try it again. <br /><br />Also, I quoted this:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"A subperiosteal dissection was carried out on both the buccal and medial aspects of the ramus."</span><br /><br />And I said I didn't understand it. That's not quite true. As Greek as it might seem to most people, it's actually Latin and pretty easy to break it down. Let's do a little etymology, shall we? <br /><br />First of all: subperiosteal. Sub means below so you could take this to mean below the periosteum. If that still doesn't help you, we take it further: Os is the Latin word/combining form for bone, peri means around or surrounding... <br /><br />So periostem is a membrane that lines (i.e. surrounds) the outer surface of all bones. It goes on the say that Endosteum is a membrane that lines the inner surface of bones. <br /><br />Buccal is cheek. The ramus is the posterior part of the mandible (jaw bone).<br /><br />So the above sentence, which would take place in a jaw reconstruction surgery, (essentially) means: the doctor dissected or cut down to below the level of the membrane surrounding the posterior part of the jaw bone on the cheek side of the bone as well as the middle side of the bone. <br /><br />To me, the first sentence sounds easier and more concise. If the second sentence still sounds like Greek or Latin to you, it is good that you are not the one transcribing important medical documents.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-30552600067812482102010-11-17T21:38:00.000-08:002010-11-22T21:27:17.169-08:00You can't HANDLE this!I don't usually do this, but this made me literally laugh out loud. Not a simple, vapid LOL... but a serious, hysterical, outright guffaw. I'm supposed to be working right now but needed a break from dictating a boring dental procedure and this was just the pick-me-up I needed. <br /><br />I went from this:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"A subperiosteal dissection was carried out on both the buccal and medial aspects of the ramus."</span><br /><br />Did you understand any of that? Neither did I. But I get paid to type out stuff like that. Sometimes you get lucky and get a surgery where some guy swallowed his dentures and they caused a bowel obstruction. But not today.<br /><br />To this:<br /><br /><a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/homeschooling/2010/11/you-cant-handle-the-homeschooling/">You Can't HANDLE the Homeschooling!</a><br /><br />Please read this post from my new favourite: <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/">The Pioneer Woman</a>.<br /><br />You will love it. Trust me.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-36415790573778639462010-11-11T15:51:00.000-08:002010-11-11T16:01:55.693-08:00Lest We Forget...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Uf20eVVUiY7TdWrSifshybvegIaXjcv9CQvaNA8klPenTLoBYSgMHcO2K3yci8KMqL65wHxtutfjlOhcPNlXSc5Dm83LDlpGZDSUfdYV_V0GkFRtSRc7CX-7ad_UpZTzoIcWCd282hw/s1600/art+deco+poppy+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 167px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Uf20eVVUiY7TdWrSifshybvegIaXjcv9CQvaNA8klPenTLoBYSgMHcO2K3yci8KMqL65wHxtutfjlOhcPNlXSc5Dm83LDlpGZDSUfdYV_V0GkFRtSRc7CX-7ad_UpZTzoIcWCd282hw/s320/art+deco+poppy+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538444762347939346" /></a><br /><br />Just wanted to share two of my favourite war time poems...<br /><br />In Flanders Fields,<br />Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae<br /><br />In Flanders Fields the poppies blow<br />Between the crosses row on row,<br />That mark our place; and in the sky<br />The larks, still bravely singing, fly<br />Scarce heard amid the guns below.<br /><br />We are the Dead. Short days ago<br />We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,<br />Loved and were loved, and now we lie<br />In Flanders fields.<br /><br />Take up our quarrel with the foe:<br />To you from failing hands we throw<br />The torch; be yours to hold it high.<br />If ye break faith with us who die<br />We shall not sleep, though poppies grow<br />In Flanders fields.<br /><br />DULCE ET DECORUM EST<br />Wilfrid Own<br /><br />Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,<br />Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,<br />Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs<br />And towards our distant rest began to trudge.<br />Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots<br />But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;<br />Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots<br />Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.<br />Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,<br />Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;<br />But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,<br />And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime. . .<br />Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,<br />As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.<br />In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,<br />He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.<br />If in some smothering dreams you too could pace<br />Behind the wagon that we flung him in,<br />And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,<br />His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;<br />If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood<br />Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,<br />Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud <br />Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,<br />My friend, you would not tell with such high zest<br />To children ardent for some desperate glory,<br />The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est<br />Pro patria mori.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-11889135981833589352010-11-07T20:32:00.000-08:002010-11-07T20:55:34.680-08:00when 3 become 4: get me to the church on timeCertainly, for most people, Baby #1 is a big adjustment. The newness. The change. This Other Person to care for. Life becomes very different. But really, after a while, you realise that Baby #1 doesn't really cramp his/her parents' style too much. If you want to go out to a friend's house on a Friday night, just take her along and put her to bed there. Pack and plays are a mother's (and a father's) best friend sometimes. The best invention ever, if you ask me. Even better than sliced bread (because I've mastered the art of slicing my own). For us, getting ready to go out, to church for example, only required an extra 45 minutes in the morning, feeding time included. <br /><br />It's a whole different game when 3 become 4. You would think that with 2 parents and 2 kids it's easy to divide and conquer. And usually it works out that way, with the baby being the easy one - feeding, dressing, napping, transferring to car seat, leaving. Done.<br /><br />It looks so good, so easy, on the page. But it's exactly when it looks and feels like it's going good that suddenly it just doesn't. <br /><br />You're all ready to walk out the door and Baby E has a diaper blowout or a massive spewing spit up. So much for the groceries.<br /><br />Or all 4 of you are sitting the car, dressed in Sunday best, on time for once, and the car won't start. Because someone, and we're not mentioning any names here, bumped the back hatch light on while heaving the buggy into the car the previous day, after a walk in the park. So it stayed on all night. So of course the battery is dead. So much for church.<br /><br />Or you're putting your daughter's shoes and suddenly there's a puddle on the stairs. "Mommy, I peed." No, really. So much for being at Grandma's on time.<br /><br />You see where I'm going with this. <br /><br />One lesson I have yet to learn well is that when life throws those OOPS moments at you, there's only one thing to do (only one thing you can do, really): laugh. My tendency is to stress over it. I tend to take life and myself just a little too seriously. But I have come to realise that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can't get to church, or the grocery store, or the park, or so-and-so's house, on time because kids do pee and puke and cry and cars do break down or batteries die at the most inopportune moments. There will come a time when I will probably be able to get to places on time because I won't have shoes to tie, coats to zip, tears to dry, or accidents or spills to clean up... and I know that I will miss it.Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3951993724723145642.post-41097752301137759962010-09-29T22:02:00.003-07:002010-12-07T15:36:16.251-08:00medical word of the day: keratoacanthoma<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPJyc8WMVpiOhivAapQvEaI3lfUTssUpyecdVA7SV1_pLicYlAsSuFEs6q0NAoqZ863CfDGkJxVyUJWxUmC_ung1nqrvRoUa-6H4dlMh2hlL3kj8UO2LQ-lBNlWHOJnRpybo1Zt7EeJSo/s1600/dictionary+page.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPJyc8WMVpiOhivAapQvEaI3lfUTssUpyecdVA7SV1_pLicYlAsSuFEs6q0NAoqZ863CfDGkJxVyUJWxUmC_ung1nqrvRoUa-6H4dlMh2hlL3kj8UO2LQ-lBNlWHOJnRpybo1Zt7EeJSo/s320/dictionary+page.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548087213404092834" /></a><br />keratocanthoma: are rapidly growing, red, dome-shaped bumps (papules/nodules) with central craters. Occasionally, these will disappear spontaneously. They are often treated to avoid further involvement or destruction of underlying tissue. They are of concern because of the similarity to squamous cell cancer.<br /><br />(from the Greek kerat - meaning horn.)Dihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01507665903286160863noreply@blogger.com0