So, travel and cancer, cancer and travel. Travel, for the next several months, really seems to be taking the upper hand. We've got a couple of local weekends away coming up—Ian to a bachelor party in the woods this weekend, and me to Idaho for an almost-week of summer riding and helping out while K&A are home. I'm leaving the dogs when I come back, at Doggy Heaven on Earth II (DHoEI being Mom and Marsh's place, OF COURSE), where K&A have kindly agreed to look after them whilst Ian and I fulfill several non-dog-friendly weekends.
The first weekend back from Idaho/the woods we're going to Orcas to spray for tansy ragwort in our pasture—a noxious weed that kills livestock but enjoys boundless growth itself. It can be eradicated by being dug up by the roots and burned, but the ground is hard and dry now, and this would be backbreaking work. An island neighbor, who has mowed and hayed much of our land for the last couple years (charging us nothing and taking the hay—a perfect trade, from our perspective), discovered the infestation and is going to help us kill it. She explained that she tries to lead a mostly organic life herself and would, on her own place, prefer to catch tansy in the spring and dig it up—and indeed, she did try to dig up a lot of ours, for hours—but she also said that there are times when it's better to use chemicals. I explained that I understand completely—sometimes, the organic, natural way is best and works well—sometimes, however, you need chemotherapy. She laughed with me—that's exactly right. So the last weekend this month we're going up to Orcas to camp and administer chemotherapy to our giant pasture (if there's an infestation near the campsite, we'll do that part last, after we've packed up and are ready for home); we didn't think it would be such a good idea to administer chemotherapy to our dogs.
The following weekend we'll be on Mt Rainier attending a wedding of dear friends; the following weekend we're going to Austin for four nights, to meet a baby who was born in April. I believe we have nothing planned but a big holing-up-at-home-and-hiding-from-the-world crash the following weekend . . . oops--and an important birthday celebration . . . and the weekend after that we're spending 3 nights on Orcas, this time for a wedding of more dear friends. That takes us through September.
The first weekend in October I'm going back to Idaho to resume command/responsibility for my dogs, and then K&A are taking off on a fall tour of NYC and Europe, and so I'll remain in Idaho until 14 Oct. I would've stayed longer, because K&A will be gone longer, but THIS JUST IN: IAN'S JOB TOTALLY ROCKS. He's been invited to some sort of conference or something in the Seychelles. AND WE ARE GOING. The plan right now is to leave Idaho on 14 Oct at 5am, stop at Doggy Heaven on Earth I and leave the dogs and hitch a ride to the airport, meet Ian there, and then be gone until the 29th. I'm sure none of you are following my Herceptin schedule quite so closely as I do, but this is going to interfere. HA! Travel 1, Cancer 0.
Then, of course, is a trip you've heard about: 10 Nov to 2 Dec in Australia and New Zealand (should be able to work cancer around that trip, with a little poking and prodding of schedules).
In January, we're spending a week in a beach house on the Kona Coast with Ian's family, and yesterday he was invited to attend a conference in Honolulu in February. This time, I told him he could go without me.
And then, in March, we're going to Kenya (which will also interfere with Herceptin: Travel 2, Cancer 0).
Bring it on!
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