travel buff’s Neighborhood

Today was a very relaxing day at The Aerie, and I realized that since Penny came to be part of our pack on the day after Memorial Day, that today was her first holiday at home.

There was plenty of resting…

And a little curiosity about the gardening we did

And a little curiosity about the camera

And finally, a nice Happy Hour hanging out with a good drink and a good book.

Happy Independence Day to all!

 

 

Tonight, without a doubt, I was hypomanic. Not just bearable hypomanic, but scary hypomanic. To the point that my brother compared me to the roadrunner, and asked if I was going to be okay. I answered that yes I was going to be okay. I thought. Maybe.

Truthfully, I didn't know. I was scared that hypomania was going to progress beyond that to mania, as it has in the past. I was scared that approaching the only support system I have available to me on a Friday night...the hospital...would result in me being admitted again. For a long time. Again. And so I fought and talked out my racing thoughts like a maniac, and struggled until I reached a state where everything finally slowed down a little. And then made a bargain with my brother that if I didn't sleep (again) and things were nuts (again) tomorrow, that I would go to the hospital.

I have been awake for a long time. Watching the dogs sleep, Kodi cuddled up on the pillows, Sophie fast asleep in Marc's chair. Curling up beside Kodi so quietly so as not to wake him, only to get up an hour later, still wide awake. Watching Sophie vacate the chair to take up her favourite place of residence under the bed. Then later, waking her by accidently stepping on her protruding toes, and consoling her back to sleep with pleas of "look I know you are cute, and I love you and everything, but leave me alone and go to sleep". Curling back up beside Kodi, and apologizing and gently patting him back to sleep after being greeted with a huge yawn. Not for lack of trying, insomnia has been my friend for the last week or so. What really needs to happen is for me to sleep, long and deep and restore my brain back to normal and out of it's cyclic behaviour. And if I could avoid the hospital, and have everything fall into place, that would be a very, very good thing. But as much as I'm running scared, I know my limitations, and I won't push it to the extremes, because it's all about wellness....so if it doesn't clear up, I know where I need to be.

It’s a nice calm easy Independence Day weekend at The Aerie this year.  In addition to our national holiday, the weekend is always one of the biggest for tennis fans – this is the weekend of the Wimbledon finals.

So, to honor, I’m sorry, honour our nation's forefathers and tennis heroes alike, we made a very good cocktail from the latest issue of Imbibe Magazine.

The English Afterthought

3 oz gin
¾ oz St Germain liquor*
1-tablespoon fresh blueberries
1-tablespoon finely chopped ginger
Ginger beer**

In a Collins glass or large tumbler, muddle the blueberries and ginger.  Fill the glass with ice and add gin and St. Germain.  Stir and top with ginger beer.  Garnish with a skewer of blueberries.

This drink is very tasty and effervescent – perfect for a relaxing summer afternoon.   The mix of the tart blueberries, sharp ginger, sweet liquor and aromatic gin make for a great drink.

Cheers!

* St Germain is an elderflower liquor that has a very light, sweet honey-ish-but-not-quite taste.  It rocks.  In a pinch, you could probably substitute Drambuie, but I’d use less, I think.

** Ginger beer is a carbonated ginger soda that has a more intense ginger flavor than ginger ale.

So, when I was a young scientist, I didn’t work on drug targets or diseases or anything remotely seen as practical.  I worked in a fairly esoteric field – protein folding and protein stability.   Why?  Well, because I thought it was cool.  No, really.

Anyway, everyone outside of certain parts of Kansas and Louisiana knows that DNA is the genetic material that makes us what we are.  However, DNA is BORING.  It sits in the nucleus under essentially cellular lock and key.  How come?  Well, mostly because it’s so important that you don’t want it out in the cellular milieu because it could get damaged.  And in the good-bad scheme of things, that’s bad.  So, DNA does what any good manager does, it delegates.   And it delegates nearly all the cell’s to-do list to proteins.

Proteins are long chains of amino acids that fold into three-dimensional structures in the cell.  This structure dictates what they “do”: whether it’s be an enzyme, a receptor, a structural component, a messenger, and so forth.  In the 1970s, it was shown that proteins could reversibly fold and unfold – but the “whys” and “hows” of that were still a mystery.

So – I worked on some of that.  Why some proteins folded more readily than others and what made some more stable than others (those two were not always correlated).  But what was it good for my wise mother would ask me?  And I’d tell her,  “Errrr, well Mom, it helps our understanding of biophysics and blah blah woof woof…” until her eyes glazed over.  Later, I became disenchanted with the “academic” aspect of protein folding studies and moved onto real-world drug discovery and got into anti-infectives and endocrinology.

Guess what?  As it turns out over the next decade or so protein folding (or mistakes in it) have been implicated mechanistically in several diseases – including Alzheimer’s Disease, cystic fibrosis, mad-cow like diseases and even some cancers.

Today, I came across a paper in which scientists in San Antonio examined differences in the behavior in proteins between mice and bats.  Why mice and bats?  Well – no offense to pigeons – bats are essentially rats-with-wings and genetically very similar.  One difference is that bats live a lot longer than mice.

As it turns out, proteins from bats are more resistant to oxidative damage than their murine counterparts (oxidation is linked to age-dependent damage and disease) and their protein folds are more stable, too.  

Go figure.  Rather than blather on to my mom about biochemistry and biophysics, I could have told her I was working on the Holy Grail of biology: Longevity.  In essence, the Fountain of Youth!

Oh – and guess where the bats from that study live?  Florida.

This past week, we had some friends visit us at The Aerie for a too-brief visit but there was still a good collection of quality San Diego vacationing.  On Sunday, we all trooped over to the beach for a great day (even if it was a little over-cast and breezy).

Monday, our guest family went over to Sea World to visit with Shamu and yesterday, we all went to the San Diego Zoo.  For me, this was a nice bookend on the day the Beloved and I had to the Wild Animal Park a couple of weeks ago.

It was a gorgeous day at the Zoo and we arrived pretty early to try and beat both the heat and the crowds.  Tourism seems like it’s off a bit around here, because it was a pretty light crowd for what is usually a pretty busy place.  As always, I just loved walking around – watching the animals and have them watch us, too.

Going early is good, because more of the animals are active before they get onto some serious settling down in the heat of the midday and afternoon.

One of the hard parts for me is seeing the great apes.  I mean, I know they are being slaughtered in their homelands in Africa, but the gorillas always seem so sad when I see them.

There was also a lot of munching to be found – camels eating hay and polar bears eating carrots.

As always, the Zoo is a great place to stretch your legs and get to see some of our animal cousins.

I don't know how other families operate. I know that each and everyone is so different....the dynamics, the energy, and even sometimes the love. When I got discharged, I was so happy to be home, out of that place. But home had become a strange place. And so I floundered, but then there was my brother; coaxing me out with the dogs, making me laugh with ridiculous statements, watching with me, dvd's borrowed from the library to stave off boredom, and keep me company through the long nights of insomnia. Cheering on and laughing at the dogs crazy antics. Dancing along the road in the dark of midnight. He's laughed with me, listened when I needed him to without questioning, and when the tears came unbidden, he's been there and comforted me. He has been my watchdog...and under his gentle gaze, I have felt safe.

We have always been close. Tough circumstances sometimes cause that. Together we have survived a childhood of pain, we have set out on different paths to rediscover joy, and find ourselves. We have spelled-off one another in caring for a dying mother. We have respected each other's wishes and kept secrets from our loved ones. He  was there to help me choose the home pregnancy test, and for the emotions and tears that followed. He very nearly contracted Hepatitis with me, in trying to ease the suffering of a dying man. He understood when I brought Sophie home, when there was no space for her. He housed me while I desperately searched for housing, and when none came available, he did his best to talk me out of living in my car. For the second time, he watched me descend into utter madness...and he maintained his wellbeing through all of that, while fielding off questions asked by my parents (at my request). He was there...when he felt helpless and hopeless and sad and frustrated and angry about the entire situation, he was there. Just being. Just watching. Just listening. And only sometimes, talking.

 

We have been through so much together...so much. There aren't really words to describe the bond we share...and actually? That makes me glad a little bit...not being able to define it. I know that in a months time, I will be getting in my car and driving 5000 kilometres away from him. And I know, that I will miss being able to pop down to his house to chat, I will miss his brotherly protective manner. But mostly? I will miss being able to protect him. I will miss being there when he really needs someone to talk to. When he needs someone to listen. And when he needs someone to talk to him. I will miss being there for him. So for now? I will drive him to work...cook meals with him...convince him to walk to the beach with the dogs and I. I will lend him one or the other of the dogs for a "sleepover" at his request. I will listen to his relationship woes, and offer advice only when asked. I will tell him when he is doing something stupid, or dangerous. I will force him to make the appointment at the health clinic, and I will go with him. And I will stay by his side, and I will support him, at that moment, and with whatever comes next. I'll be his watchdog. And I will be his safe place, for as long as he needs that. He's my brother

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Sometimes I find that the books I read tend to cluster – for example, this time last year I found myself reading a bunch of post-apocalyptic fiction.   Recently, I’ve been reading a few mystery-thrillers, and in particular what I would have to think of as the very narrow sub-genre of Murder Mysteries Involving Missing Children in Northern European Locales.

In The Woods by Tana French is an Edgar Award (2008, Best First Novel) – which follows the investigation of a slain child by Detectives Ryan and Maddux in a small town outside Dublin.  The case is fraught with ethical and emotional problems for Ryan as he was the lone survivor when two of his friends disappeared in the same area when he was about the same age as the victim.   Very well-written and with better characterization than in most mysteries, this was a very interesting read – with lots of interesting questions:  Are the two cases intertwined?  Do you want them to be?  Is Ryan a liability to the investigation?  And of course, whodunit?   This book is very deliberately paced, and early on I longed for a little more action, but after a bit I settled comfortably into its dour mood.  In a way, the slower pace helped build the suspense – and unlike many mysteries everything doesn’t necessarily get a tidy clean-up at the conclusion.

Echoes From the Dead by Johan Theorin was also an award-winning first novel.*  Set on a lonely island in the Baltic Sea off the coast of Sweden, the story follows a mother’s quest to find some peace after her only son disappeared on a foggy day many years ago.   Not a typical detective story, the daughter and her estranged aging father investigate a current death that may have bearing on their own tragic family history.  This story does a wonderful job of creating the desolate landscape of island and the quiet dour people that live in its remote towns.   This is also a story that develops slowly and steadily becoming very engrossing at the end.  Theorin also did a good job of keeping me guessing throughout and even springing a couple of surprises that I didn’t see coming.

*My library seems to specialize in Scandinavian mysteries (this won a Swedish Mystery Writers' Award) and I’ve read a couple previously set in Sweden.  This has been my favorite though.

What prevents your city/town from being the best place in the country to live?
Submitted by Cherney.

Ummm.... let me think.  Oh, that's right.  Nothing.

Happy Summer

Okay, so some random conversations my brother and I have had recently. In regards to the hepatitis bits, when my brother and I first thought we might have contracted it, and had to wait months for testing, we decided the best way to deal with it was through comedy. So began the hepatitis jokes.

 

him     "mmm, that Tuna casserole smells good"

me      "you can have some, if you want, it's cold now. Oh, and there aren't any clean plates."

him     "thats okay, I can use this! (proudly brandishing the lid to a ziploc container)

me      "sure, yep, you go right ahead." 

him     "mmm the tuna-ey goodness. Hey, if I were a fork, where would I be? Here forky forky forky"

me      "oh yeah, there aren't any clean forks either."

him      looking defeated "Well, what do I use to scoop it? There isn't anything to scoop it with."

me      "Well, you can use this spoon if you want, but you might want to wash it first, cause I used it to scoop, then              eat."

him.      "Right, because I wouldn't want to get your Hepatitis"

me       "Whatever, your hepatitis is way bigger than mine."

him      "My hepatitis is SO way bigger than yours!

 

Him      “Oh my god, whats wrong with my belly button, it hurts.”

Me        “Well don’t bug it, maybe there is some dirt in there or something.”

Him      “No ! Maybe it’s turning into an outie....!”

Me        “Your belly button CANNOT turn into an outie.”

Him       “No, my belly button canal has definitely gotten smaller.”

Me         Rolls eyes.

 

Him       “Oh! You should become part of the cheesecake burlesque!

Me...     “Right...um, are they made of cheesecake?”

Him       “NO! They wear titty tassles! (makes circular patterns)

Me        “The CHEESECAKE wears TITTY TASSLES???”

Him:       Rolls Eyes

 

Him:      “My hands really hurt today, from all that gardening.”

Me:      “Oh man, maybe you are getting arthritis.”

Him.     “Well, at least it’ll keep my hepatitis company.”

 

Yep, because around here, we are VERY sophisticated.

1.   Fridge poetry

2.   Knowing which knot to tie to reconnect a chewed through leash

     3.  Breathing in cold, cold midnight air

     4.  One huge container of freshly cut up vegetables, just waiting to be stir-fryed

     5.  Five Alive, in the can