Day 1-Camp Winnataska


His cabinmates

The Boys Cabin

Readers!  The Boy seems to be having a great time at camp so far. Here are some pictures I was able to find of him.large_7baf9ba21a



large_b0449c12f5 large_6606c40c85 large_0823bb9ab1 large_52bf37fc2d

It is strange not knowing what all he is doing every day but the pictures help and it looks like he and his friends are having a blast. Last night we went out to dinner with some friends and I had oysters. So good. It was a nice dinner and good to get out for the night.





How are you Readers? Did you have a good weekend? Good Monday? Let me know!

My LT (little tumors)


It’s Monday Reader’s! How are you doing? I woke up an empty nester! The Boy is at sleep away camp. My Man and I dropped him off yesterday at Camp Winnataska in Alabama. Four of his friends from school are also going so we feel much better knowing his best buddies will be there with him. I think he was excited but also a bit nervous. He told me he is just going to think about like he is spending the night at a friend’s house. We wrote him letters also with his grandparents so he will get mail each day. I also purchased him some goodies that he will get throughout the week.IMG_4391 IMG_4379On Saturday we celebrated Timber’s “Gotcha Day”. I can’t believe it has been one year since he has come into our lives. He has brought such joy to our house. We went out to lunch and then to his best friend, Rebel’s, house. Rebel’s mom bought Timber a beer made esp. for dogs. How nice!! She also got him a yummy cookie.IMG_4376



Whatcha Reading?


The Son by Jo Nesbo- I finished listening to this one a few weeks ago and like with his Henry Hole series, I loved it. Jo Nesbo is a fantastic writing and I suggested anyone who enjoys crime/mystery books check him out.


Radical Remission: Surviving Cancer Against All Odds by Dr. Kelly Turner- I started reading this after I saw an interview Kris Carr did with her.

n her New York Times bestseller, Radical Remission: Surviving Cancer Against All Odds, Dr. Kelly A. Turner, founder of the Radical Remission Project, uncovers nine factors that can lead to a spontaneous remission from cancer—even after conventional medicine has failed.

While getting her Ph.D. at the University of California, Berkley, Dr. Turner, a researcher, lecturer, and counselor in integrative oncology, was shocked to discover that no one was studying episodes of radical (or unexpected) remission—when people recover against all odds without the help of conventional medicine, or after conventional medicine has failed.  She was so fascinated by this kind of remission that she embarked on a ten month trip around the world, traveling to ten different countries to interview fifty holistic healers and twenty radical remission cancer survivors about their healing practices and techniques. Her research continued by interviewing over 100 Radical Remission survivors and studying over 1000 of these cases.  Her evidence presents nine common themes that she believes may help even terminal patients turn their lives around.–

So far I have read the first three chapters and am hooked. The stories of the survivors are very uplifting and encouraging. I am using what I am learning in my own fight to get my LT’s (Little Tumors) healthy again. I have decided not to hate them. Not to want to kill them. They are just blood cells who minding their own business, working hard for me and the bam! They get sick. I know the feeling and I want to help them get better. I want the big LT to lose some weight cause he is really hurting my ribcage. So I am going to be positive, tell them I will help them get better. Watch what I put in my body, how I treat it and to breathe. Most people don’t really breath. I don’t need the negative energy in my mind and body right now. Who wants to go around being angry all the time? I know there are some out there who think the chemo, radiation and drugs have all gone to my head and maybe they have but this feels right for me. Of course when I told My Man about LT he said he would just be happy to kill the little fuckers. Oh Well!

 Whatcha Reading?

A Dispatch from Your Man in Quebec City

Reader’s! Here it is a guest post from My Man about our trip to Quebec City. He did a fantastic job and I know you will love it as much as I do. What a wonderful wordsmith My Man is. I look forward to his next posting.

Lacing up my trainers on the steps at the bottom of our rental in a four-story walk-up on Quai Saint-André, I notice the smell straight away. It’s been many years, but it is unmistakably the same odeur of the senior’s high-rise where my grandparents spent their later years. The sense of smell is considered the most evocative((In Frenchman Marcel Proust’s ponderous Remembrance of Things Past, the narrator tastes a madeleine, triggering a reminiscence that stretches on for over 4000 pages. I submit to you that it is, in fact, the smell of that little cake that carries him back to his childhood.)) and so it is no surprise that I’m transported back in time and I am recalling details with amazing specificity – the roosters in the kitchen, the doilies on the end tables, the arrangement of the crossword books and puzzles under the table, and even the layout of the pantry. My grandparents were always installed in their respective places in the living room and kitchen. Of my grandfather, I mostly recall his voice((This New England accent is difficult to describe and, I think, rarely encountered. To hear it, watch the film adaptation of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary and listen to Fred Gwynne (most famous for his role as Herman Munster on the 1960s TV show, The Munsters) in his role as elderly neighbor, Jud Crandall.)) enumerating the news for my father (mostly obits) of people I never met from places I had never been with names like Turner’s Falls and Hadley and I remember my grandmother, Catherine Busha, laughing in the kitchen. By all accounts, she was a woman who loved to laugh and have a good time. It’s with her in mind that I set off on foot to find the statue of her great-great-great-grandfather, Pierre Boucher((When William, son of Albert J. Bouchers de Roches, emigrated to the U.S., he adopted the Busha spelling (while the pronounciation remained Boo-SHAY).)) outside the Parliament Building here in Quebec City.

It’s early, though, and before I start climbing the daunting hills up toward Haute-Ville and, beyond, to Parliament Hill, I’m going to explore some neighborhoods outside the main tourist zone. First, I run east up Boulevard Charest toward Saint-Roch. This commercial district has undergone a recent revitalization. You’ll find it in all the travel guides and it’s a short cab or bus ride from the center of town. The double-decker tour bus also stops here so you’ll find plenty of tourists walking up Rue Saint-Joseph in the afternoon. It’s early, though, and few shops or restaurants will be open to me. Nonetheless, I want to know if it’s worth coming back with Shay and I’d like to find the local’s grocery, where I can buy some toothpaste and possibly a decent bottle of wine. This is why I always travel with my running shoes. It’s an efficient self-guided tour. If I find anything interesting, I’ll take note of it for later, when Shay and I venture out together. I easily find the main commercial drag, anchored by Église Saint-Roch, the largest church in the city. There’s an Urban Outfitters and a place to buy sunglasses. There are a hundred places to eat poutine. You can find this street in every mid-to-large city in North America, but I see enough shops and pubs that I decide it might be worth returning with Shay on our rented bicycles. Turning back up a side street and heading back toward the pier, I spot a [possibly male] streetwalker in six-inch heels and a mini skirt standing outside a dive bar. It’s not yet 10am. A more adventurous correspondent would venture in and maybe have a Sleeman bière. I do need content for this blog post. I press on, though, failing even to take a photograph. I have a lot of ground to cover and it is literally all up hill from here.

A scene outside le Pub petit Blvd. Gonorrhea may not be the only surprise under that skirt.

A scene outside le Pub Petit Blvd. Gonorrhea may not be the only surprise under that skirt.

Returning the way I came, following the path of the Rivière Saint-Charles past the Marché du Vieux-Port farmers market, I turn up Rue Saint Paul, passing a row of cafés and galleries and I begin the climb up the steep and winding streets of Basse-Ville (Lower Town), leading up to the ramparted bluff that marks the boundary with Haute-Ville (Upper Town). Pierre Boucher was Governor here through much of the 1660s. In this part of Quebec, reminders of Monsieur Boucher’s time and this city’s history as a French outpost are everywhere but this is also a modern city, second most important economically in Quebec (behind Montreal). Cannons dot the bluff overlooking the Rivière Saint-Charles  and the Saint Lawrence River((If you are keen to have your picture taken next to cannons, this is your town.)). From there, looking down at the rivers, it is easy to imagine Champlain arriving here in 1608 aboard his ship, the Don de Dieu (“Gift of God”) to be greeted by the Iroquois in their canoes. It would be easier to imagine if the Bunge grain silos didn’t obstruct so much of the view. But, I am now in the narrow cobbled streets south of the bluff where the views are obstructed anyway and I’m alone, save for the sounds of televisions and the voices of French-speaking radio broadcasters descending to this traveler from the curtained and coiffed windows flanking the street. Later, I’ll travel this way again in the evening and hear young people laughing in French. A soirée. For now, I keep climbing. I’m in the upper portion of Old Quebec where government officials and dignitaries would have made their homes. I imagine my illustrious ancestor as a bon vivant, walking these streets himself in the summer of 1662, calling on friends and perhaps even venturing down into Lower Town to carouse and gamble with the sailors and tradesmen who made that area home. I imagine him always accompanied by his boon companion, Gérard((While Gérard is a fantasy of my own invention, a certain love of The Grape in my family is well documented and continues to the present day (see: my own DNA and, perhaps, the sealed juvenile records of a few municipalities in and around Oakland County, MI).)) ((Running can be dreadfully boring, even along the most scenic routes. Accordingly, I had time to develop a fairly detailed picture of little Gérard. He wears felt pyjamas and snacks on sunflower seeds.)), a pet mouse that made the journey over from France (where Boucher had been the year before representing the colonies) and lives in Pierre’s justacorps pocket. But, in truth, Pierre Boucher must have been a serious man and a godly one. The first Canadian to be ennobled by “The Sun King”, Louis XIV, he ruled Quebec for the better part of a decade before eventually founding the city that bears his name, Boucherville, near Montreal. To be so successful in those unforgiving times would have required a sober and prudent man. Still, this is my run. I can imagine him as I please.

Often, what you find at the top of a long and winding hill is... another hill

Often, what you find at the top of a long and winding hill is… another hill

I wouldn’t know any of this history if it were not for my father. Further, I might dismiss it as just a bit of apocryphal family lore((My mother-in-law has told my son that he is a descendant of Abraham Lincoln (!) I suspect all Hoosiers make this specious claim.)) if he hadn’t provided me with such a detailed pedigree chart. I’ve observed that an interest in family history (and family, in general) has become common among many of my parent’s generation. Maybe it’s natural, when you reach a certain age, to want to reach both backwards and forward in time and establish your place firmly and forever in the continuum of generations. If so, I’ll develop this interest myself soon enough. The length of one generation is but that of a shadow after all. Maybe, I’m already there. It is getting hot and I’m still hoofing it uphill to get a picture of a statue of an old dead guy in tights.

Turning onto Rue Saint-Jean, I know I can choose almost any southbound street and make my way to Parliament. Along with the Château Frontenac, it dominates the skyline and is easily located on foot. Tonight, Rue Saint-Jean will be closed to traffic and we’ll make our way on foot up this crowded thoroughfare to Sapristi, one of our favorite spots in Quebec, perhaps stopping at a few other places along the way. If possible, I will leave my calling card, Monsieur Robilloux on a few guest books or, in the less swell joints, on the bathroom wall. Right now, only the most eager tourists are out. Most of the people lining the sidewalks are locals. Even I can tell them apart.

Monsieur Robilloux

Monsieur Robilloux

I turn down a side street. Onward and upward, I go. The sun is well above the buildings now and it’s unseasonably hot. Somehow, I have overshot my target and I’m on Rue Saint Louis, heading west. Following this route, you approach the building from the east, crossing the Parliament Hill Gardens and passing the Fontaine de Tourny. School is still in session and the grounds are already teeming with groups of school children. They will learn of some of the men and women whose statues line the perimeter of the building. Certainly these children will learn of Camille Laurin, whose bust can be found on these grounds, and who is credited with keeping Quebec a French-speaking province. There seem to be dozens of other figures immortalized in bronze. By chance, though, the first statue that I approach is the one I am seeking. A group of children is mustering directly in front of it and being given instructions (in French, of course). Cheerful admonishments. I need a closer angle for the photograph so I step right into their midst – a sweaty Gulliver to these Lilliputians. I snap a photo with my phone and I’m gone, headed back toward the Château Frontenac on Rue Saint Louis. I have more ground to cover, but I’ll leave that for another installment.

Pierre Bouchere

Pierre Boucher. Turns out he isn’t actually depicted in tights

Day 4- Quebec City, Quebec

Reader’s, I slept till 9:30am! Wow! I must be on vaycay! Today we decided to get a full breakfast and was able to find a cafe right behind the condo to eat at. I got coffee (no sugar), two friend eggs with homemade bread and jam and potatoes on the side.  My Man got a ham and cheese omelet. There were a lot of locals with their dogs out and about and it made me miss my puppy Timber! He would have loved it in Quebec. While my man went on his morning run, I got cleaned up and started a new book called Follys Island. It was a light fun read.



Last year we saw the Ecolobus driving throughout the streets of old town. It is a bus run on 100% electricity. Well this year they added to their fleet and that bus was everywhere. We decided to hop on and check out where all it took us.


Now every bus we saw was empty until we wanted to hop on and ride. Locals use the Ecolobus a lot! It was a short route that took all of twenty minutes. I liked the people watching but My Man was not impressed. To hot and to many people on it. Well, it is a bus.

Not impressed.

Not impressed.


We hoped off the bus a stop early and decided to check out Cafe du Monde that my man found on one of his runs. It has views of the river and he thought it would be a nice place to have lunch.IMG_4325

I had some oysters for a starter and a wonderful goat cheese and strawberry salad. Those strawberries tasted so good! The weather was so nice and the river was full of people on sail boats.

IMG_4326 IMG_4328

After we ate I was on the search of Canadian under ware  for The Boy. Yes, under ware. We bought him a pair last year and I wanted to find some more. My Man wanted to go walking and take more pictures for his guest blog entry. Yes, My Man will be a guest blogger on My Hotel Yorba! How cool is that?


No olives!


I found some under ware and then went back to one of my favorite stores and bought two more shirts and some pants. After that I was beat. I waked back to the condo and took a much-needed nap!


We went to one of the cafes for a nice dinner and then back to Cafe du Monde for an after dinner drink.


Our trip was coming to an end. Overall it was a wonderful time. The people of Quebec City are so nice and welcoming. We were able to teach them a few new words of English like straw and pier. However, My Man and I’s french did not improve! Pickles. There was no green juice to be found which was a bummer. The closest thing I got to veggie juice was drinking Bloody Marys. Does that count? We are already thinking about our next trip and where we would like to stay. We will go bike riding again for sure and of course more shopping!  My Man and I are always looking for our spiritual home and Quebec City is the closest to one we have found so far!

Day 3-Quebec City, Quebec


I was able to sleep till 8:00am! Woot! Woot! My man and I got up and hit another cafe for coffee and a bite to eat. I had another chocolate croissant and he had an apple one. Afterwards he took off running and I took off shopping! Last year we found a shop called Pot en eiel l‘art de la table.

We have this on on a coffee mug.

We have this on on a coffee mug.

We found some cute table wear with the art of Albert Dubout on it last year. Cats! Love it. This time I bought three  bowls, three small plates, two tea towels and one tea towel with chickens.


As I walked back to the condo with my bags I stopped into a soap shop and met Billy. She was the stores bouncer and weighted all of 2 pounds if that. Such a cute puppy!! Her “leash” was a piece of string tied to the cheek out are desk. She also had a nice place to lay in the store window. The store was full of homemade soaps, lotions and lip balm. I got a some shea butter since I forgot to bring any lotion for my hands. It smells yummy!


While on one of his runs, My Man found a bike shop that rented bikes by the hour and day. I was all in for baking around the city. Our bike ride was great. We went into the city center and found a place to grab a bit to eat.

Guess which one is mine!

Guess which one is mine!

We then got on a bike path that runs along the river, through the city and up the coastline.


There are a lot of parks and since it was Sunday, a ton of bikers. My kind of place. We stopped at a park that had a mobile restaurant and had a glass of wine and watched the boats sail by.

IMG_4300 IMG_4311 IMG_4310 IMG_4312

In all we bike about 10 miles. According to My Man and the bikers who zoomed by me, I am not a fast biker. I was enjoying the view!


IMG_4316 IMG_4317 IMG_4320

Last year we had Sunday brunch at Panache and thought we would give it try for dinner this year. We were able to sit outside, now our favorite place to sit. It was a very nice dinner but My Man and I both agree that next time we are not making any reservations. Some of our best meals where at the little cafés we found while walking around. After dinner we sat in the hotel lounge and had a glass of wine. My Man walked back to the condo and got our tablets so we could catch up on our reading. I was very nice to just chill out, have a glass of wine and read after a nice dinner.


1 Tumor, 2 Tumor, 3 Tumor, 4…5 Tumor…Really 5 is enough.

Well F@cK.

Little F*ckers

Little F*ckers

Reader’s, how are you? Me not so hot. I am pissed and I am sad. CT scans did not go as we all had hoped and prayed they would. The little shits did not stop growing. No, they each grew a bit. What does not mean? It means I no longer will be taking the $8,500.00 a month pills and my hair will stop growing in white. I have moved onto regular chemo! Woot! Lucky me! :| The five tumors, one big, four small, are on the outside of my lung. Kinda different but hey, I have always been told I am beat to a different drummer! The big one is the reason for the pain under my right boob, not nerve damage. My lungs look in good shape and my blood work came back good so yeah for that.

Next Thursday I will go into the infusion center and get an hours worth of Doxorybicin Liposmal. Good things about it is that it is only one dose every three weeks. I should not lose my hair.  Side effects, are that I may get really hot hands and feet (what is that all about?) and it might make me look tanner. For those who don’t know, I am pale as paste and proud of it but a little tan may not be a bad thing. Of course there is getting tired and nauseous. Hopefully I will not gain the weight I have lose. He thinks since I did so well with the other chemo last year (which is the strongest he gives) that I should not have any huge issues with this one.  I will have two infusions before another CT scan to check out how it is working. I just want them to stop growing. I can handle the pain under my boob. I have been in some sort of pain since I was 13 years old. I can deal with it. What I can’t deal with is what it is doing to My Man, The Boy and the rest of my family. It isn’t fair to them.

So what can I say. Well, I did say Fu@k in front of Dr. Read. I don’t think he minded. Oh! To add salt to the wound, yesterday morning I fell walking down my wet steps outside. Jacked my left knee up so bad. I am walking with my granddad old cane. Hurts so bad. I really need a drink and to call this day done.

Be careful out there Reader’s.

Day 2-Quebec City, Quebec



I woke up around 7:30am and read a bit in bed while My Man snored. I ended up waking The Boy up when I faced timed him. Guess where he slept last night. My bed! I recognized the ceiling and fan! That little bugger. We got up and going around and hour later and walked to a cafe for coffee and a chocolate croissant. We sat facing open floor to ceiling widows that looked onto the farmers market and a beautiful day.


After we ate and got a cup of coffee to go, we walked over to the farmers market it check it out. They had a bit of everything. Some wonderful looking cheese, bread and veggies.


My Man and I talked about going back and getting a little bit of cheese, bread and tomatoes for a nice snack latter. And then we came across the beer. My Man just stood there looking at all of it. “I have never seen any of these beers in my life”. There was drool.

We then went back to the condo and My Man went out for a run. Did I mention that we are on the fourth floor and there is no elevator? Oh my legs and ass! I am getting a good workout just by climbing them! I got cleaned up and sat down on my iPad to write rough drafts of these posts. Please forgive any tense issues I may have since I am writing it while we are here but won’t post till we get back. Got to add the pictures in at home.


More shopping today. I was able to get two more cardigans, my favorite, two light sweaters that will be great for Our Florida trip in July and a cami. My man got some pants for dinner tonight and a new swimsuit. We also picked up a t-shirt for The Boy. I think I am all set (clothes wise) unless I see something I must have. I am still wanting to go to this one shop where they sell French dinnerware with cats on it. We got some lat year and I am planning on buying more this trip. It is so nice.



We had lunch at . Everything was local and the meats/fish/poultry was organically raised. My kind of place! My Man and I shared a cheese plate and then I had a salad with beat marinated trout and organize egg yolks. It was all so good.

Beer tasting for My Man and Wine for Me!

Beer tasting for My Man and Wine for Me!


After lunch we did a little more walking around and then stopped at a cafe, had a glass of wine and people watched. A wonderful time!


After awhile we went back to the condo and got caught up on social media. Our wifi access sucked. There was only one place in the whole condo you could get it and it was very hit and miss. We did some laundry and read a bit. It was much warmer out and the rain pretty much stayed away. We were able to find an adult contemporary French music station on the TV. It was very peaceful to listen to the music with the windows open and read. Just the kind of rest I needed.


IMG_4289 IMG_4290 IMG_4291 IMG_4294

We ate dinner at Patriarche. We had eaten than last year and really enjoyed our time so we thought we would try it again. Like last year, it did not disappoint.


PS. Today, the 12th, I am going to get my CT scans. If you are into praying please send them you way. If you are into good vibes and or finger and toes crossing please do those too! We are looking for NO Change. NO Change! No Change!