NOISE: Embody

Honey Do

We eat a lot of honey at my house; enough so that I believe Jake (my husband) and I have become a little snobbish about it. 'Oh yes,' we say, as we roll clover-honey-smeared pancake around in our mouths, '...a little rustic, a little plain, but a good stand-by." Or, recently we were lucky enough to purchase a 5-lb container of pure Buckwheat honey, and had a very special tasting straight from the jug at the kitchen counter: "Mmmm...," we hummed, our tongues stuck to the roofs of our mouths, " so dark, almost coffee-like in the back of the tongue, somewhat burnt-sugar-like...", and more food-snobbery of the like.

You can get this 'nectar of the Gods' from many local farmers around town. Ask them about their beekeeping practices to bee sure they are not destroying the hive or taking too much honey; most domesticated breeds of honeybees make more than enough honey than they need for storage to get through our harsh winters due to generations of selective breeding, so taking a little is not usually a big deal. But beware! Beekeeping is no different than any other type of animal husbandry, and is an industry rife with operators who care little for the creatures involved, so do your homework to get a pure, safe, responsible product.

Honey also makes a great substitute for table sugar, which is basically terrible for us to eat. I use it, I eat it, but I try to minimize my exposure, and use honey, date sugar, maple syrup, or other delicious alternatives to sweeten up my life. Never choose Aspartame, Splenda, or those other bizarre Franken-sugars: they're made in labs and are linked to cancer among other serious health concerns. And besides, honey is readily available for you to buy from a local farmer, so you can help Michigan support itself through small, family-owned farms!

Say 'Homemade Cheeeeese!'

Velveeta is not cheese. It is a man-made creation using preservatives, dyes, and weird chemicals. Yes, it melts well, and you can buy bricks of it for very cheap, but it is essentially flavored plastic. I hate Velveeta, and the entire packaged food industry it is a part of, so I put my lactose-intolerance aside and made my own cheese this past week out of raw, unpasteurized goat's milk.

Healthy Body, Healthy State

I'm making granola today, and my kitchen is currently about 90 degrees, which is the reason I sat out in the dining room to write this post. To make granola yourself, you really only need the sparest of ingredients that literally cost pennies per ounce, and one of these fundamental additions gives me an exceptional opportunity to go out and find some Michigan-based products. But it's not just granola that I'm after today.

Breathe, Have Faith, Be Joyful

NOTE: This post is a special post to be read in conjunction with the Sunday, July 18 story on organ transplants. Next week this blog will return to its original format and content.

Last October 6, at around 9 am, I awoke to my phone ringing. Annoyed, I answered it only to be more irritated that it was St Mary's Hospital in Grand Rapids. I assumed they were doing their regular check-ups on me, as they had done for several years, ever since my name was added to the kidney transplant list. They would ask a few questions about my state of health and my insurance, to keep records updated in case a kidney came through for me. Most of the time, I would not return their calls or ignore the call on purpose, since I didn't really think they would ever call me to have a transplant. That Tuesday, though, instead of firing off the round of questions, they said, "Anna, we have a kidney for you- we need you to come to St Mary's right now."

Essential H20

With the recent high temperatures, I've been being vigilant about getting enough water in my body for several reasons. The first and most obvious of these is to stay healthy in the heat, but even more important for me is to be sure my new transplanted kidney has enough H2O to do its job of filtering out toxins from my body.

Remembering Summer

When I was a kid, during the hot summers when our upstairs got too hot to sleep comfortably in, my brother and I would make a 'nest'. We would haul our blankets and pillows down to the living room floor and create a makeshift bed in front of our box fan. We'd crank it up to 'Hi' and fall asleep to the hum of white noise, only occasionally waking to a passing thunderstorm, when we'd have to leap out of our nest and help Mom crank the windows shut against the rain.

When my husband and I bought our house last year, my mom sent over a huge bin of old linens, including many that I remembered from my childhood. I opened up the bin and gathered a set of faded yellow sheets into my arms, burying my face into them and breathing in the smell of those long-ago summer nights spent in the nest. They smelled like the back-yard clothesline, of fresh summer air and sunshine, of the linen closet in our upstairs, and of quick rain storms when the earth is dampened after a long, hot afternoon.

In my house now, I cannot make a nest when it gets hot: we have wood floors. Instead, I make the bed with my own linens I have pulled from my own clothesline. I turn both of our fans up to '3' and lie on the sheets, thinking about those summer nights I spent in my childhood home. If we had used air conditioning, or if Jake and I used it now, we would not be able to smell the summer time, and I might risk losing this wonderful memory of young innocence.

Homeward Bound

After driving all around Alpena trying to find a Wi-Fi connection, I've finally located the single 'hot-spot' in town at Bogart's Bar and Grill on US-23. My laptop battery is low, breakfast is cooking at my family's house down the road, and Jake and I are heading back to Lansing today. I always get a little introspective after a trip, especially after I leave Alpena, since I grew up spending summers here at my grandmother's, who passed away last summer. It is Day 8 of my trip, and the pull of home is getting a little stronger.

During this trip, I have had the opportunity to experience things that were never possible when I was on dialysis. The year before my transplant was the worst as far as my energy went, so I have relished every chance to hike, play, swim, and camp that I never had before. Yesterday I swam in Lake Huron for the first time since I was a child, and in fresh water for the first time since I was diagnosed with kidney disease 5 years ago.

On our 4-hour drive back down to Lansing today, I will turn on my cell phone. I will check my email when I get home, after we make sure the house and the kitties are OK. I will walk down to my garden to see how things have grown since last Sunday. I'll get back in my regular routine, and soon it will feel normal again. But I will do my best to hold on very tightly to this past week, to the time I shared with Jake, with my family, and to the awesome time I had Up North.