Soup recipes I've been hounded for, perfect for the cold weather;
here are two family favorites.
-French Onion Soup-
6 Red Onions
1/4 teaspoon sugar
2 cloves minced garlic
8 cups vegetable stock (or beef stock for meat eaters)
1/2 cup dry white wine (I like using a good Sauvignon Blanc)
1 bay leaf
1/4 teaspoon dry thyme
sea salt & cracked pepper
8 slices of toasted bread, baguette's the easiest to work with.
Grated Swiss Gruyere cheese with a little bit of grated Parmesan
(you can also use butter instead of oil, and yellow onions (or a mix of both) instead of just red. But the above is my favorite way. Sherry is good in it also.)
Saute onions in extra virgin olive oil on med. high
heat until well browned. Add the sugar about ten minutes into the process.
Add garlic and saute for one minute
Add stock, wine, bay leaf, thyme
then partially cover and simmer until flavors are well blended.
(about 30 minutes, sometimes more)
salt & pepper and discard the bay leaf.
Pour soup into (oven safe) bowls, place the toast on top
and sprinkle each with cheese. Put on broiler for ten minutes
until the cheese bubbles and is slightly browned. Serve immediately,
but careful, you'll want the bowls on plates.
Make it yours! =)
-Caramelized Carrot Soup-
2 tablespoons cooking oil
3 cups thinly sliced onion (I use red, again)
2 tablespoons sugar
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons freshly grated ginger (believe me you want fresh ginger root, grate it on the smallest holes on your cheese grater if you have to)
8 carrots (about 1 1/4 lbs.)
6 cups vegetable broth (or chicken broth, again for you meat lovers)
1 medium sweet potato (make sure it's ripe, and buy extra for some fries!)
1 cup light cream (or half & half)
sea salt & cracked pepper, if you want
For caramelized onions, heat oil over medium heat/ Add onion, sugar, and pepper; reduce heat to low and cook, covered, for 30 minutes, stirring twice. Add ginger; cook uncovered, for 20 to 30 more minutes, or until onion is golden brown, stirring occasionally. Divide onion mixture in half.
Meanwhile peel carrots and sweet potato; cut into one inch pieces. In large saucepan combine broth, carrot, and sweet potato. Bring to boiling, reduce heat. Simmer, covered, about 40 minutes or until very tender. Add half of the onions. Puree until nearly smooth with a handheld blender or process two cups at a time in a processor. Add cream, heat through. Salt & pepper if ya want, and garnish with remaining caramelized onions.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Burning Up
Starlight
will be here soon.
I want to live with the stars.
Far away
from this world.
Memories
they take me far away.
I want to separate myself
from this world.
Far away.
Rise above it.
Be one
with the light that brightens
the night sky
the dark sky.
Be one...
one that holds a message
piercing through to all of the
lovers of the night
bearers of disparities
hands of the alone.
Like me...
pain in beauty
beauty in pain.
Lady in the stars.
Woman of the dark.
Red lipstick piercing through
the heart of you.
The heart of the unknown.
Not their hearts,
but ours.
The ones that beat
to an unconventional sanity.
The ones that live and love
for the night.
The night that is lit by the
starlight.
I...
just want to hold it
in my arms.
The night that is lit by
starlight.
Conclusion
So I took a shower after our last email.
A very long shower. Way too hot.
I let the water drain and drain while I lay down
and I just let it pour on me
all over me
cleanse me.
Free me.
With my fingers dripping droplets
I traced a heart on my skin
with both hands
where my heart should be.
I stared at it and--
how quick the water bled away
in every direction.
I repeated this a few times
coming to the conclusion that
it is like my... heart.
I have one. It's there.
It just bleeds. I let it bleed.
I make it bleed.
I want it to bleed.
And I love it
bleeding.
It still beats.
And that's plenty for me.
will be here soon.
I want to live with the stars.
Far away
from this world.
Memories
they take me far away.
I want to separate myself
from this world.
Far away.
Rise above it.
Be one
with the light that brightens
the night sky
the dark sky.
Be one...
one that holds a message
piercing through to all of the
lovers of the night
bearers of disparities
hands of the alone.
Like me...
pain in beauty
beauty in pain.
Lady in the stars.
Woman of the dark.
Red lipstick piercing through
the heart of you.
The heart of the unknown.
Not their hearts,
but ours.
The ones that beat
to an unconventional sanity.
The ones that live and love
for the night.
The night that is lit by the
starlight.
I...
just want to hold it
in my arms.
The night that is lit by
starlight.
Conclusion
So I took a shower after our last email.
A very long shower. Way too hot.
I let the water drain and drain while I lay down
and I just let it pour on me
all over me
cleanse me.
Free me.
With my fingers dripping droplets
I traced a heart on my skin
with both hands
where my heart should be.
I stared at it and--
how quick the water bled away
in every direction.
I repeated this a few times
coming to the conclusion that
it is like my... heart.
I have one. It's there.
It just bleeds. I let it bleed.
I make it bleed.
I want it to bleed.
And I love it
bleeding.
It still beats.
And that's plenty for me.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Dear Cancer,
You came into my sons life uninvited. He is only five years old, and doesn't even know who you are. But he knows what you've done. So do I. And he doesn't understand why.
Neither do I.
I hate you.
I hate you.
You have turned our lives upside down and inside out, over and over again. You are relentless. You are cold hearted. You really know how to destroy everything in your path. But I have found a weakness with you. You don't like us fighting. Whenever we get that one step ahead of you, you kick us back ten more steps. And then you kick again and again, until we fall and don't want to fight.
I know you don't care either way. People may think that us fighting proves victory. But you don't look at it that way. You know you have us beat. And you know your survivors live for the rest of their lives with permanent, horrible effects from you, and the drugs that fight you.
What do you want from us? What do you want from my child? You have already taken a year. You have taken us from our home and our solitude. You have taken our sanity away. And it isn't us giving you control! It's you... taking it.
We live with this because we have no choice. We fight you because we can't just sit and let you do your work quicker.
If I could see you, if I could touch you... you would be in permanent agony.
You think you are smart cancer. You think because you can trick us and beat us down, you are special. You think by making my son suffer with sickness, and taking the hair from his body, makes you special. You are wrong. And I will show you who is special. Our little boy is. You may be able to take everything else we ever had, but there is one thing you can't.
Our love.
You- can't- take- our- love.
Well cancer, now you've asked for war. A war I am prepared for. On my sons behalf, I will do anything I can to destroy you. You will not like me. And the only way to my son, will be through me. Aiden may not understand the gravity of your demented sickness, but his mommy and daddy do. And we will destroy you. Whether it be literally, or mentally, you will have no hold on us.
Through your unfortunate appearance dear cancer, we know now what is real. We are full of knowledge we would have never had if it wasn't for you. We are stronger than so many in this world. And because of you, we could have a PhD in the big C. We know all about you. And you will regret spreading yourself more and more around this world. For the more you do it, the closer we will get to destroying you. I can say something about you cancer. You pick some intelligent, inspiring people to attack. That wont help you in the end.
I can't imagine life without you now. What things were like before. What they will be like later. No matter what you will never be forgotten. You are out to corrupt everyone you can, and everything in your path.
You will only make us smarter. You will only make us stronger. You will only make us better. You only make us love each other more, and hold each other closer. You are not going to get away with this. You better back down cancer, now.
At the end of your time, you will be laid out and vulnerable, dissected and dead.
You... Cancer...
You are a life-affirming treatise on the eternity of love.
Neither do I.
I hate you.
I hate you.
You have turned our lives upside down and inside out, over and over again. You are relentless. You are cold hearted. You really know how to destroy everything in your path. But I have found a weakness with you. You don't like us fighting. Whenever we get that one step ahead of you, you kick us back ten more steps. And then you kick again and again, until we fall and don't want to fight.
I know you don't care either way. People may think that us fighting proves victory. But you don't look at it that way. You know you have us beat. And you know your survivors live for the rest of their lives with permanent, horrible effects from you, and the drugs that fight you.
What do you want from us? What do you want from my child? You have already taken a year. You have taken us from our home and our solitude. You have taken our sanity away. And it isn't us giving you control! It's you... taking it.
We live with this because we have no choice. We fight you because we can't just sit and let you do your work quicker.
If I could see you, if I could touch you... you would be in permanent agony.
You think you are smart cancer. You think because you can trick us and beat us down, you are special. You think by making my son suffer with sickness, and taking the hair from his body, makes you special. You are wrong. And I will show you who is special. Our little boy is. You may be able to take everything else we ever had, but there is one thing you can't.
Our love.
You- can't- take- our- love.
Well cancer, now you've asked for war. A war I am prepared for. On my sons behalf, I will do anything I can to destroy you. You will not like me. And the only way to my son, will be through me. Aiden may not understand the gravity of your demented sickness, but his mommy and daddy do. And we will destroy you. Whether it be literally, or mentally, you will have no hold on us.
Through your unfortunate appearance dear cancer, we know now what is real. We are full of knowledge we would have never had if it wasn't for you. We are stronger than so many in this world. And because of you, we could have a PhD in the big C. We know all about you. And you will regret spreading yourself more and more around this world. For the more you do it, the closer we will get to destroying you. I can say something about you cancer. You pick some intelligent, inspiring people to attack. That wont help you in the end.
I can't imagine life without you now. What things were like before. What they will be like later. No matter what you will never be forgotten. You are out to corrupt everyone you can, and everything in your path.
You will only make us smarter. You will only make us stronger. You will only make us better. You only make us love each other more, and hold each other closer. You are not going to get away with this. You better back down cancer, now.
At the end of your time, you will be laid out and vulnerable, dissected and dead.
You... Cancer...
You are a life-affirming treatise on the eternity of love.
Friday, August 14, 2009
-It is Written-
In order, (in a not so orderly, conventional, or good way): 1 http://mycrimsonreverie.blogspot.com/2008/09/still-untitled.html
10
They sat down at a small pub about a half a mile from the incident. "The Lennox?" She said trying to make up for the lull between them. "Seems quaint."
"Yes." He said with his eyes fixed on the bartender who was making their drinks.
"What was that out there Cal?" She was hesitant. "There was a third man, next to the flour mill. he was watching me. Did you see him?"
"Yes, Beth, I did--"
"Two Martinis, very cold!" The bartender winked as she turned away to help another customer.
Beth shifted her eyes slowly from the bartender back to Cal. She stared at him.
Cal finally spoke. "He's a scared man."
"He scared me." She said looking into her glass.
"I was there."
"But you can't always be. You aren't. Please teach me Cal. I only know so much."
"You are asking for a lot from me Beth. And as I recall, you didn't help me when I asked you for your... talent." He took quite a gulp from his drink and she could tell he enjoyed it.
Beth is a spiritual woman. Definitely not religious. And she knows a great deal about different practices. She is known for her techniques in visualization and concentration. In other words, she can send energies to another, or take theirs. Everything to do with energies, from emotion, to objects in the mind, she can give and receive. She can make two minds, or more, become one together.
"It's complicated." She said feeling horrible. "I didn't want to, uh..." She felt stupid now. "I didn't want to open up a link between us, that I might not have been able to close." She looked down and took quite a gulp herself. "And, I don't know what you were looking for, there was no explanation." She swallowed yet another gulp, and twinged from the levity of their night.
He only looked at her with half a smile. Like he was trying to read her mind. Or he really was in her mind.
"You didn't tell me why you wanted... what you were--" She sighed feeling an agony talking about it.
"Cal, please, who was that man? Does he know what we did to Bill?" She kept her eyes on his better now.
"What Bill did to you, you mean?" He had to fix what she said. He continued. "He is a man. A cruel man and a smart man. One you wont have to worry about." He stared at her intently.
"But... you do." She wanted to tell him that she cared, that she didn't like to worry about him. That she didn't like him worrying. But it came with their territory, it came with the two of them. There was always worry.
"I don't worry. I dispose of my worries properly."
"Or improperly! You act like you are talking about your dinner leftovers." She knew what his reaction would be.
"Maybe I am. And maybe we should talk about making an agreement." He watched a younger couple in a booth nearby start to make out.
She could agree to anything he said.
She sighed and looked at him genuinely, starting to feel helpless. She hoped it didn't show. "What kind of agreement, dear Cal?" She gave a little smile, then drank almost to the bottom of her drink. She felt the burning in her stomach and it opened her up.
Cal was more than an artist and a fighter; he was a best kept secret. One you wouldn't want to share with anyone.
He flicked water off his fingers from his sweating glass. "I'll teach you all you want to know about fighting. But you have to promise to never use it. Only, and I mean only, use it if you have no other way..." He finished his drink and kept the cup close to him so the bartender wouldn't interrupt. "...I also want you to share with me your talent. Give me your best. And not just one time. But, really show me."
He knew she wouldn't question him. He knew she would accept.
She knew he was letting his guard down. She knew he trusted her.
That was enough to make her agree. Though she was scared to say yes yet, for she didn't know if she could control the fight in her. She didn't know if she could promise him that.
She looked deep into his eyes, feeling an energy in her already want to travel into his body. So she looked away. She had to say yes.
"I see a piano over there. I wonder if it's as good as the one Larry bought me?" She stood up and stretched, then tilted her head and touched his knee. "Want to check it out with me?" She pulled her hand up and felt a magnetism.
The look on his face was inexplicable. She always wished she could ask him what he was feeling. But she knew his control would never let her know. And that was okay with her. It always was.
He stood up and they headed toward the upright deep cherry piano. It was a Sterling. The last real one was made in 1926. Real ones were made in Connecticut. Copied ones were from New York. This one, was a real one.
"Okay Cal, it's a deal." She looked at the keys and sat on the bench, letting her fingers graze them lightly.
"I'm glad." He said while watching her.
She started playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, with her own little twist.
He stood behind her, in a protective way, and just listened.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
I Pity the Preacher
You think you understand this verse.
You think you know your way around
the blade.
But you don't. And let me tell you why.
I've visited the place where thoughts begin.
The light narrows behind the mathematical angles, and time captures itself for a moment. Of course, I give it control. I have no choice.
So time wraps itself around me, and I let it.
I found out a long time ago not to run. When you race against your own mind, you never cross the finish line.
The finish line...
this is the end. If you go too slow your body will surely decay slow, and your spirit will writhe with ignorance, and never find its own... conclusion.
If you go to fast your body will rot too quick, and you will lose the spirit you were chasing after for so long.
I watch you compare yourself to a gallon of stout. Legs crossed and red imprints on your skin from the pressure of your elbows on your knees. You move your hands too fast up that container. You pour your cup too slow. You take your taste too quick.
I watch you try it many different ways. Maybe mixing up the order will change the outcome.
But no, you find it's still the same. And you hate it. You hunt it.
You think you understand this word. This blood. But you don't.
You lay your sleeping head, human on my faithless arm.
The cycles of colours run through my eyes.
As my own mind suffers to keep a steady pace. The right tick.
I can't, I can't... but I try to tell you why.
You don't visit the family I do. Sparkling, sharp point. Wooden handle embraced.
Maybe I can cut out my own reality. Make my own mathematical horizons.
In my explanation I am already lost...
And this is why, you think you know your way around the blade, but you don't.
You think you know your way around
the blade.
But you don't. And let me tell you why.
I've visited the place where thoughts begin.
The light narrows behind the mathematical angles, and time captures itself for a moment. Of course, I give it control. I have no choice.
So time wraps itself around me, and I let it.
I found out a long time ago not to run. When you race against your own mind, you never cross the finish line.
The finish line...
this is the end. If you go too slow your body will surely decay slow, and your spirit will writhe with ignorance, and never find its own... conclusion.
If you go to fast your body will rot too quick, and you will lose the spirit you were chasing after for so long.
I watch you compare yourself to a gallon of stout. Legs crossed and red imprints on your skin from the pressure of your elbows on your knees. You move your hands too fast up that container. You pour your cup too slow. You take your taste too quick.
I watch you try it many different ways. Maybe mixing up the order will change the outcome.
But no, you find it's still the same. And you hate it. You hunt it.
You think you understand this word. This blood. But you don't.
You lay your sleeping head, human on my faithless arm.
The cycles of colours run through my eyes.
As my own mind suffers to keep a steady pace. The right tick.
I can't, I can't... but I try to tell you why.
You don't visit the family I do. Sparkling, sharp point. Wooden handle embraced.
Maybe I can cut out my own reality. Make my own mathematical horizons.
In my explanation I am already lost...
And this is why, you think you know your way around the blade, but you don't.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
I am a Master of the Pen
Though my current situation doesn't give me much time for anything anymore, here are two poems I recently wrote...
-It Will Happen When it Should-
She can feel the energy rush through her veins.
A cycle of occurrences that keep her wanting more.
Energies collide and sing to her a song,
one that's only been dreamt of; she always thought it was wrong.
But now; now, she can hear the lyrics. She can sing along.
She now loves the song. In her span of sorrow, space has given her time.
Time to understand more, time to rewind, unwind, pass time.
Her encouragements have flourished, she now sees the window.
The one that angels look through, the one that others break.
The one her cat will lay in, a perfect/ imperfect escape.
When she walks away, and turns her head around; all she sees are dreams,
melting into walls.
Dissecting her own insides, cleaning up the blood,
she wonders what she's missing, what has come undone.
Quickly time has sued her, and she must make a choice...
but randomly she swallows, someone else's voice.
She wants her dignity; doesn't know where it went, doesn't want to forget.
She wants honesty; gives it all the time, reactions differentiate.
She wants truth, light and immortality...sing to me.
The window pane is chipped, the singing silences.
Reality brushes her hair, slips on a dress, and speaks monotone.
She looks down in alarm, and walks the other way.
Tears stream down her heart, and no one sees her shame.
Love has been cut down, cutting all around...
and she screams; screams, "I love you" in her dreams.
She's taken a step back... so she thinks.
-One Night-
Love, dances on the rooftop
glitters in the sun.
I want some.
Sand between our toes, a mountains chilling cold,
let me inhale the world...
with you.
Something I once feared, came to me right here,
it bounced back and forth between our hearts.
And it is pure, the taste is sweet, it is illuminating.
Your fingertips make a path down my arm and trace my collarbone.
I can feel your energy. It's real. We are real. Empowering.
Together we did lie, in a vast grey sky, and I could...
see.
Love, take us to the oceans, to rivers made divine.
Forests of depth, caves of escape...
we were made,
for each other.
Love, keep showing us the way,
lighten every pain,
bring us to the same place.
At the same time.
Inside. Meet me inside.
We will meet... inside.
I love you.
-It Will Happen When it Should-
She can feel the energy rush through her veins.
A cycle of occurrences that keep her wanting more.
Energies collide and sing to her a song,
one that's only been dreamt of; she always thought it was wrong.
But now; now, she can hear the lyrics. She can sing along.
She now loves the song. In her span of sorrow, space has given her time.
Time to understand more, time to rewind, unwind, pass time.
Her encouragements have flourished, she now sees the window.
The one that angels look through, the one that others break.
The one her cat will lay in, a perfect/ imperfect escape.
When she walks away, and turns her head around; all she sees are dreams,
melting into walls.
Dissecting her own insides, cleaning up the blood,
she wonders what she's missing, what has come undone.
Quickly time has sued her, and she must make a choice...
but randomly she swallows, someone else's voice.
She wants her dignity; doesn't know where it went, doesn't want to forget.
She wants honesty; gives it all the time, reactions differentiate.
She wants truth, light and immortality...sing to me.
The window pane is chipped, the singing silences.
Reality brushes her hair, slips on a dress, and speaks monotone.
She looks down in alarm, and walks the other way.
Tears stream down her heart, and no one sees her shame.
Love has been cut down, cutting all around...
and she screams; screams, "I love you" in her dreams.
She's taken a step back... so she thinks.
-One Night-
Love, dances on the rooftop
glitters in the sun.
I want some.
Sand between our toes, a mountains chilling cold,
let me inhale the world...
with you.
Something I once feared, came to me right here,
it bounced back and forth between our hearts.
And it is pure, the taste is sweet, it is illuminating.
Your fingertips make a path down my arm and trace my collarbone.
I can feel your energy. It's real. We are real. Empowering.
Together we did lie, in a vast grey sky, and I could...
see.
Love, take us to the oceans, to rivers made divine.
Forests of depth, caves of escape...
we were made,
for each other.
Love, keep showing us the way,
lighten every pain,
bring us to the same place.
At the same time.
Inside. Meet me inside.
We will meet... inside.
I love you.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Childhood Cancer Facts
For the people who do... or don't understand.
This deserves to be read, and read by anyone and everyone.
*Childhood cancers are the #1 disease killer of children - more than asthma, cystic fibrosis, diabetes, and pediatric AIDS combined.
*The U.S. invests approximately $595,000 for research per victim of pediatric AIDS and only $20,000 for each victim of childhood cancer.
*The National Cancer Institute’s (NCI) federal budget was $4.6 billion. Of that, breast cancer received 12%, prostate cancer received 7%, and all 12 major groups of pediatric cancers combined received less than 3%.
*Childhood cancer is not a single disease, but rather many different types that fall into 12 major categories. Common adult cancers are extremely rare in children, yet many cancers are almost exclusively found in children.
*Childhood Cancers are cancers that primarily affect children, teens, and young adults. When cancer strikes children and young adults it affects them differently than it would an adult.
*Attempts to detect childhood cancers at an earlier stage, when the disease would react more favorably to treatment, have largely failed. Young patients often have a more advanced stage of cancer when first diagnosed. (Approximately 20% of adults with cancer show evidence the disease has spread, yet almost 80% of children show that the cancer has spread to distant sites at the time of diagnosis).
*Cancer in childhood occurs regularly, randomly, and spares no ethnic group, socioeconomic class, or geographic region.
*The cause of most childhood cancers are unknown and at present, cannot be prevented. (Most adult cancers result from lifestyle factors such as smoking, diet, occupation, and other exposure to cancer-causing agents).
*One in every 330 Americans will develop cancer by the age of 20. On the average, 12,500 children and adolescents in the U.S. are diagnosed with cancer each year.
*On the average, 1 in every 4 elementary school has a child with cancer. The average high school has two students who are a current or former cancer patient. In the U.S., about 46 children and adolescents are diagnosed with cancer every weekday.
*While the cancer death rate has dropped more dramatically for children than for any other age group, 2,300 children and teenagers will die each year from cancer.
*Childhood leukemia (making up the largest group of childhood cancers) was once a certain death sentence, but now can be cured almost 80% of the time.
*Although cure rates are steadily increasing, 35% of children will die.
* Some forms of childhood cancers have proven so resistant to treatment that, in spite of research, a cure is illusive.
*More than 70 percent of children diagnosed with cancer become long-term survivors and the majority of them are considered cured after 2-5 years 9depending on type). However, long-term effects of surviving the treatments for childhood cancer can affect these children's futures and life.
*Several childhood cancers continue to have a very poor prognosis, including: brain stem tumors, metastatic sarcomas, relapsed acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and relapsed non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.
*Cancer treatment can cause serious side effects that may last a lifetime or shorten their life.
*Detecting childhood cancers at an early stage, when the disease would react more favorably to treatment, is extremely difficult.
*Cancer symptoms in children – fever, swollen glands, anemia, bruises and infection – are often suspected to be, and at the early stages are treated as, other childhood illnesses.
*Even with insurance coverage, a family will have out-of pocket expenses of about $40,000 per year, not including travel.
*Research on the emotional impact of childhood cancer finds that parents and siblings report even greater longterm emotional impacts than the diagnosed child
*Every family is potentially at risk.
*In almost all cases, childhood cancers arise from non-inherited mutations (or changes) in the genes of growing cells. As these errors occur randomly and unpredictably, there is currently no effective way to predict or prevent them.
*Nationally, childhood cancer is 20x more prevalent than pediatric AIDS.
*Pediatric AIDS receives 4x the funding that childhood cancer receives.
*In one month there are 2x as many deaths from childhood cancer as pediatric AIDS for the entire year.
*How do you explain chemotherapy and radiation to a child? One girl’s parents called it “magic water” — magic water that would make the pain in her legs go away. They promised her the pain would go away and it worked for 3 years.When the magic water stopped working and their little girl asked if the next round of magic water would help the pain go away, the parents could only reply that they hoped it would.
*September is Childhood Cancer Awareness month.
*7 months ago: WASHINGTON - JULY 29: U.S. President George W. Bush signs H.R. 1553, the Caroline Pryce Walker Conquor Childhood Cancer Avt of 2008 in the Oval Office of the White house as Eden Adams, 8, Wyatt Rech, 6; U.S. Representative Deborah Pryce (-OH) and Hannah Lewis, 7 look on July 29, 2008 in Washington, D.C. The act will fund research for childhood cancer.
*Fight for a cure. Be aware.It happened to our boy, and it can happen to anyone.We love you Aiden! Keep fighting!
This deserves to be read, and read by anyone and everyone.
*Childhood cancers are the #1 disease killer of children - more than asthma, cystic fibrosis, diabetes, and pediatric AIDS combined.
*The U.S. invests approximately $595,000 for research per victim of pediatric AIDS and only $20,000 for each victim of childhood cancer.
*The National Cancer Institute’s (NCI) federal budget was $4.6 billion. Of that, breast cancer received 12%, prostate cancer received 7%, and all 12 major groups of pediatric cancers combined received less than 3%.
*Childhood cancer is not a single disease, but rather many different types that fall into 12 major categories. Common adult cancers are extremely rare in children, yet many cancers are almost exclusively found in children.
*Childhood Cancers are cancers that primarily affect children, teens, and young adults. When cancer strikes children and young adults it affects them differently than it would an adult.
*Attempts to detect childhood cancers at an earlier stage, when the disease would react more favorably to treatment, have largely failed. Young patients often have a more advanced stage of cancer when first diagnosed. (Approximately 20% of adults with cancer show evidence the disease has spread, yet almost 80% of children show that the cancer has spread to distant sites at the time of diagnosis).
*Cancer in childhood occurs regularly, randomly, and spares no ethnic group, socioeconomic class, or geographic region.
*The cause of most childhood cancers are unknown and at present, cannot be prevented. (Most adult cancers result from lifestyle factors such as smoking, diet, occupation, and other exposure to cancer-causing agents).
*One in every 330 Americans will develop cancer by the age of 20. On the average, 12,500 children and adolescents in the U.S. are diagnosed with cancer each year.
*On the average, 1 in every 4 elementary school has a child with cancer. The average high school has two students who are a current or former cancer patient. In the U.S., about 46 children and adolescents are diagnosed with cancer every weekday.
*While the cancer death rate has dropped more dramatically for children than for any other age group, 2,300 children and teenagers will die each year from cancer.
*Childhood leukemia (making up the largest group of childhood cancers) was once a certain death sentence, but now can be cured almost 80% of the time.
*Although cure rates are steadily increasing, 35% of children will die.
* Some forms of childhood cancers have proven so resistant to treatment that, in spite of research, a cure is illusive.
*More than 70 percent of children diagnosed with cancer become long-term survivors and the majority of them are considered cured after 2-5 years 9depending on type). However, long-term effects of surviving the treatments for childhood cancer can affect these children's futures and life.
*Several childhood cancers continue to have a very poor prognosis, including: brain stem tumors, metastatic sarcomas, relapsed acute lymphoblastic leukemia, and relapsed non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.
*Cancer treatment can cause serious side effects that may last a lifetime or shorten their life.
*Detecting childhood cancers at an early stage, when the disease would react more favorably to treatment, is extremely difficult.
*Cancer symptoms in children – fever, swollen glands, anemia, bruises and infection – are often suspected to be, and at the early stages are treated as, other childhood illnesses.
*Even with insurance coverage, a family will have out-of pocket expenses of about $40,000 per year, not including travel.
*Research on the emotional impact of childhood cancer finds that parents and siblings report even greater longterm emotional impacts than the diagnosed child
*Every family is potentially at risk.
*In almost all cases, childhood cancers arise from non-inherited mutations (or changes) in the genes of growing cells. As these errors occur randomly and unpredictably, there is currently no effective way to predict or prevent them.
*Nationally, childhood cancer is 20x more prevalent than pediatric AIDS.
*Pediatric AIDS receives 4x the funding that childhood cancer receives.
*In one month there are 2x as many deaths from childhood cancer as pediatric AIDS for the entire year.
*How do you explain chemotherapy and radiation to a child? One girl’s parents called it “magic water” — magic water that would make the pain in her legs go away. They promised her the pain would go away and it worked for 3 years.When the magic water stopped working and their little girl asked if the next round of magic water would help the pain go away, the parents could only reply that they hoped it would.
*September is Childhood Cancer Awareness month.
*7 months ago: WASHINGTON - JULY 29: U.S. President George W. Bush signs H.R. 1553, the Caroline Pryce Walker Conquor Childhood Cancer Avt of 2008 in the Oval Office of the White house as Eden Adams, 8, Wyatt Rech, 6; U.S. Representative Deborah Pryce (-OH) and Hannah Lewis, 7 look on July 29, 2008 in Washington, D.C. The act will fund research for childhood cancer.
*Fight for a cure. Be aware.It happened to our boy, and it can happen to anyone.We love you Aiden! Keep fighting!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I Start Again
I Start Again
This is about my son’s cancer. I love you monkey boy.
My head hangs low.
Somehow I got caught up... between your lies and your truth.
You have stolen my life.
Yesterday is so far behind me. Tomorrow is like rubbing my skin on asphalt.
Today? Today is waiting. Waiting for familiar things.
The wind laughing around my face.
The trees looking down at me and smiling brightly.
The scent of water making my body shiver happily.
My mother’s gentle lips touching my cheek.
My father’s hand holding mine tight.
Anticipation has me glued.
Sometimes I think this cycle never ends.
How can you leave me standing?
When my body is so small it wants to break.
You've cut me down to size.
I never imagined.
Familiar things. Rolling down a hill of wet grass.
Sticking my nose in a pile of flowers. Oh, the smell.
You've opened up my scars, and given me new ones.
I try to stitch you up, and you just cut the thread.
I keep crying, you keep going.
I want to make you taste this, now.
I feel my brain quivering with fright.
It has no understanding of what its body is doing.
It has lost control, control it was made to have. It was stolen.
My heart is beating faster. We could fall apart.
I'm bleeding out on country roads that carry the strong scent of evergreen.
I stare to the sky with my arms stretching up as far as they will go.
"Who are you?” I scream.
Gazing at what is supposed to be familiar. What I long for. What was taken.
Familiar.
Liar. You brought back what I murdered. Murdered ghosts coming back to haunt.
I search everywhere, and still, nothing.
Will you be on the other side? Or will you forget me?
Cells are being taken without my permission.
I think in thousands of broken pieces.
The spirits I adore, they are far away now.
They don't even understand why I'm here.
All they know is that they were disowned.
All I know is I have no choice.
You chose to come here. You chose to take me away.
You chose to make me fight a fight I'll never know how to.
I don't even know where you came from.
There is never a reason why with you.
I want my freedom back. The life that all beings take advantage of.
I try to think of tomorrow. But it just still makes my skin pain with road burns.
Yesterday can't ever disappear. Today has no choice.
And tomorrow will always have memories.
I, have to live underground... hide in the dirt. Fall through the cracks of the sidewalk that no one ever looks at. The sidewalk that is walked on by 5000 people a day.
Can I be your enemy?
A world without you is a world that would stop forever. This is dangerous. Corrupt.
I'm saying prayers under street lights.
I see my parents cry, I see them break.
Why are you so blind?
We have to stay here. We have to hang on to a moment.
We have to chase after you, while in one spot.
If we don't, we lose. I cry myself to sleep. Out loud, and inside.
Swallowing too much. So much until it makes my body feel strange. But I have to.
Or you will kill me.
Familiar.
I've always wanted to sail on a ship. Waves of wonder. Skies of everlasting beauty.
Beauty in storms, beauty in sun. I'll love you, I'll always love you.
You will live forever.
Always. Always, and forever.
This; familiarity, it may never start.
I must get back.
I must get back.
Get me back.
This is about my son’s cancer. I love you monkey boy.
My head hangs low.
Somehow I got caught up... between your lies and your truth.
You have stolen my life.
Yesterday is so far behind me. Tomorrow is like rubbing my skin on asphalt.
Today? Today is waiting. Waiting for familiar things.
The wind laughing around my face.
The trees looking down at me and smiling brightly.
The scent of water making my body shiver happily.
My mother’s gentle lips touching my cheek.
My father’s hand holding mine tight.
Anticipation has me glued.
Sometimes I think this cycle never ends.
How can you leave me standing?
When my body is so small it wants to break.
You've cut me down to size.
I never imagined.
Familiar things. Rolling down a hill of wet grass.
Sticking my nose in a pile of flowers. Oh, the smell.
You've opened up my scars, and given me new ones.
I try to stitch you up, and you just cut the thread.
I keep crying, you keep going.
I want to make you taste this, now.
I feel my brain quivering with fright.
It has no understanding of what its body is doing.
It has lost control, control it was made to have. It was stolen.
My heart is beating faster. We could fall apart.
I'm bleeding out on country roads that carry the strong scent of evergreen.
I stare to the sky with my arms stretching up as far as they will go.
"Who are you?” I scream.
Gazing at what is supposed to be familiar. What I long for. What was taken.
Familiar.
Liar. You brought back what I murdered. Murdered ghosts coming back to haunt.
I search everywhere, and still, nothing.
Will you be on the other side? Or will you forget me?
Cells are being taken without my permission.
I think in thousands of broken pieces.
The spirits I adore, they are far away now.
They don't even understand why I'm here.
All they know is that they were disowned.
All I know is I have no choice.
You chose to come here. You chose to take me away.
You chose to make me fight a fight I'll never know how to.
I don't even know where you came from.
There is never a reason why with you.
I want my freedom back. The life that all beings take advantage of.
I try to think of tomorrow. But it just still makes my skin pain with road burns.
Yesterday can't ever disappear. Today has no choice.
And tomorrow will always have memories.
I, have to live underground... hide in the dirt. Fall through the cracks of the sidewalk that no one ever looks at. The sidewalk that is walked on by 5000 people a day.
Can I be your enemy?
A world without you is a world that would stop forever. This is dangerous. Corrupt.
I'm saying prayers under street lights.
I see my parents cry, I see them break.
Why are you so blind?
We have to stay here. We have to hang on to a moment.
We have to chase after you, while in one spot.
If we don't, we lose. I cry myself to sleep. Out loud, and inside.
Swallowing too much. So much until it makes my body feel strange. But I have to.
Or you will kill me.
Familiar.
I've always wanted to sail on a ship. Waves of wonder. Skies of everlasting beauty.
Beauty in storms, beauty in sun. I'll love you, I'll always love you.
You will live forever.
Always. Always, and forever.
This; familiarity, it may never start.
I must get back.
I must get back.
Get me back.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Who me?
I am Beth. Yes, Beth is my name. I never really think about my name. Whether I like it, or don't. Whether I'm supposed to wonder about liking it, or not. I go to college. A rundown shit hole they call a college, in this rundown shit hole town. I want to be in college forever. I feel it will make me better than everyone else. And I am probably right when I look around at the kids these days. I've danced for 14 years now. Every kind of dance. I started out in ballet. And though I hate pop and rap music, I do dance my best when dancing to it.
I never told myself... "I want to pop pills!". But come Friday after my fucking week I take a few pain killers, what ever kind, and go to a pub like club. It's old-fashion and comfortable. It's stained glass light fixtures make it soothing. Plus... I work there.
I dance, in clothes that is, to entertain our guests. There are only three of us and we carry our dancing as a privilege there. We have come to grow on our boss.
Larry. He is a good man, a bad man, a noble man... an asshole. He never treats us girls bad. But he is not a protector. He only cares. I met Cal on my own. But, I still look at Larry like he is our introducer. Cal wouldn't have ever been in our pub if it wasn't for Larry. I would have never been in the pub if I didn't want to be a ballerina when I grew up. None the less, we met. He wasn't near me that whole night. I never even really noticed him. But he noticed me.
That night when the bar cleared, the two other girls went with some men, and Larry took his usual dark clothed crew to the back, I sat at the piano. Larry got it for me. Well, for the pub. But because of me, I think.
I played with my entire being. You play different when you are alone. It was so real, my body broke into a piano itself. My fingers, were keys.
I paused mid song because I hit a C. One wrong note out of all my fingers notes. My thumb was supposed to be on the B.
"That was beautiful." Said a voice that lingered on my backbone. I turned abruptly to see, Cal. A man handsome in his own right. He had his own genre. Perfect fitting dark jeans. Muscular, and healthy looking. Light brown hair and light green eyes. He had the weak smell of a wonderful cologne I still can't place. Since that day it's been weak, and enough too. Mm. I guess I say he's his own genre because he seems to have a cloud around him. Some thick aura like cloud. Filled with spirit. Spirit of every kind. Compassion, coldness, sex appeal, and friendship, arrogance, slyness, and honesty. Yes, Cal is honest.
I love him. It's a platonic love. Every in an out of the word platonic, is us. Except for one. I think. We haven't had sex. But, we have a sexual connection. So, maybe we aren't platonic. This, is where our issues are. This, is what separates us, from the world. Everything with us, and around us... is, and isn't, at the same time.
I never told myself... "I want to pop pills!". But come Friday after my fucking week I take a few pain killers, what ever kind, and go to a pub like club. It's old-fashion and comfortable. It's stained glass light fixtures make it soothing. Plus... I work there.
I dance, in clothes that is, to entertain our guests. There are only three of us and we carry our dancing as a privilege there. We have come to grow on our boss.
Larry. He is a good man, a bad man, a noble man... an asshole. He never treats us girls bad. But he is not a protector. He only cares. I met Cal on my own. But, I still look at Larry like he is our introducer. Cal wouldn't have ever been in our pub if it wasn't for Larry. I would have never been in the pub if I didn't want to be a ballerina when I grew up. None the less, we met. He wasn't near me that whole night. I never even really noticed him. But he noticed me.
That night when the bar cleared, the two other girls went with some men, and Larry took his usual dark clothed crew to the back, I sat at the piano. Larry got it for me. Well, for the pub. But because of me, I think.
I played with my entire being. You play different when you are alone. It was so real, my body broke into a piano itself. My fingers, were keys.
I paused mid song because I hit a C. One wrong note out of all my fingers notes. My thumb was supposed to be on the B.
"That was beautiful." Said a voice that lingered on my backbone. I turned abruptly to see, Cal. A man handsome in his own right. He had his own genre. Perfect fitting dark jeans. Muscular, and healthy looking. Light brown hair and light green eyes. He had the weak smell of a wonderful cologne I still can't place. Since that day it's been weak, and enough too. Mm. I guess I say he's his own genre because he seems to have a cloud around him. Some thick aura like cloud. Filled with spirit. Spirit of every kind. Compassion, coldness, sex appeal, and friendship, arrogance, slyness, and honesty. Yes, Cal is honest.
I love him. It's a platonic love. Every in an out of the word platonic, is us. Except for one. I think. We haven't had sex. But, we have a sexual connection. So, maybe we aren't platonic. This, is where our issues are. This, is what separates us, from the world. Everything with us, and around us... is, and isn't, at the same time.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
I'll Take a Martini
"A Winter in Hell." She said while skipping ahead of Cal. "That is what I shall call this." She bit her bottom lip and floated along trying to ignore what was to come.
"Well, Beth... the body was taken care of." He looked down. She flung around to face him and continued to walk, backwards.
"Oh; but we don't kill people." She said mocking him and turned back around flinging her hair with her.
"No. We don't; kill people." Again, his eyes spoke more than his words. Their understanding of one another was irreplaceable. Others never seemed to grasp how they perceived the world. How it functioned... how it worked.
"I'm so angry with you. You took something that should have been mine." This was the first time she ever had a negative emotion toward him. And she didn't like it. "I had every right to be the one to kill him. Not you, or anyone. Me."
"You, and every other woman he hurt." He wanted to say a million things. Like that the scene would have been too much for her. The torture that the fat, stale smelling man went through was more than she could have ingested. Or even that he died quicker than he would have, if he hadn't yelled how good she was.
"Fuck you." She blurted out, wishing she hadn't immediately after. "I deserved the kill."
They kept walking down the trail, and it seemed like it would never end. Cal tucked his hands into his long coat to keep them warm. He felt the shell in his pocket from the murder weapon, and wished he could hand them to her as a souvenir. Though he didn't shoot the gun, it was the last thing the fat man saw. He stared at Beth waltzing a step or two ahead of him, stared at her hair, her body. He could only think of two things: he was scared to teach her, he needed a drink; and maybe a third thing, of how sexy she was.
They came near the ending of the trail.
"Let's... go grab a drink." He unclenched the shells and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to him. They were entering a territory that wasn't his. But if a person was in his life, they were important. And he protected anyone important.
Beth bounced next to him holding his arm. "Yes please! Anything to get me out of--"
"Well, well, look at this Carlos! We got us a Cal!" Two men came lurking from the shadows of an old, shutdown flour mill. Beth clung to Cal's back. "How about we play a little... chase the kitten."
"Mm. That one looks good Cal, where did you get her?" He wiped his snot and beer smelling saliva with the sleeve of his coat. His beard hair had tiny icicles in it.
"Leave us be Mike. Why don't you and your buddy step out of our way. We don't need this done right now."
"Oh but Cal, I think we do. You seen Bill... Cal?" The street lamp near them flickered.
"Bill is a lucky one Mike. Now excuse us." Cal knew there wouldn't be any excusing as he tried to back away with Beth still clinging to him.
"I ain't gonna let that happen now little Cal." Mike stepped in front them.
Cal knew Beth wouldn't let go of him unless he made her. In one turn, his left hand threw her to the ground and he crouched down to grab his knife from his belt wrap. Carlos pounced on him from the right and Cal immediately punctured him in the gut. Blood spat on Cal as well as everything in close proximity to them. Jumping up quickly he noticed Mike just staring at him.
"Lets get this done Mike, you can lay right next to Bill." Cal stood out of the light listening to Beth pant with small gagging noises.
"I think your weapon choice is finally ready to haunt you." Mike held up a pristine looking tan and silver semi automatic pistol.
Cal laughed. "All you have to do is get close enough to make your kill. One hit is one kill. It is that simple." And he flew to Mike, making his statement known and true.
Beth pushed herself to her knees weeping. Cal turned to her and knelt in front of her. "I can't see his blood." She inhaled loudly.
"What do you mean?" He said with a serene, monotone voice.
"There's mud... under the snow, and I can't see the difference between his blood, and the dirt. Dirt. Does that mean Spring is fucking coming?" She had tears dripping down her face.
"I hate Spring." Cal said still in front of her. "Let's take advantage of the rest of this dark night." His deep voice lured Beth to her feet.
"How did you know them?" Beth tried to gather her scattered mind.
"You sure you want to learn?" Cal looked at her with such a deep hearted and staid look that she felt her body become light, and heavy, at the same time. She looked away from him knowing for sure what she was going to drink.
"Well, Beth... the body was taken care of." He looked down. She flung around to face him and continued to walk, backwards.
"Oh; but we don't kill people." She said mocking him and turned back around flinging her hair with her.
"No. We don't; kill people." Again, his eyes spoke more than his words. Their understanding of one another was irreplaceable. Others never seemed to grasp how they perceived the world. How it functioned... how it worked.
"I'm so angry with you. You took something that should have been mine." This was the first time she ever had a negative emotion toward him. And she didn't like it. "I had every right to be the one to kill him. Not you, or anyone. Me."
"You, and every other woman he hurt." He wanted to say a million things. Like that the scene would have been too much for her. The torture that the fat, stale smelling man went through was more than she could have ingested. Or even that he died quicker than he would have, if he hadn't yelled how good she was.
"Fuck you." She blurted out, wishing she hadn't immediately after. "I deserved the kill."
They kept walking down the trail, and it seemed like it would never end. Cal tucked his hands into his long coat to keep them warm. He felt the shell in his pocket from the murder weapon, and wished he could hand them to her as a souvenir. Though he didn't shoot the gun, it was the last thing the fat man saw. He stared at Beth waltzing a step or two ahead of him, stared at her hair, her body. He could only think of two things: he was scared to teach her, he needed a drink; and maybe a third thing, of how sexy she was.
They came near the ending of the trail.
"Let's... go grab a drink." He unclenched the shells and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to him. They were entering a territory that wasn't his. But if a person was in his life, they were important. And he protected anyone important.
Beth bounced next to him holding his arm. "Yes please! Anything to get me out of--"
"Well, well, look at this Carlos! We got us a Cal!" Two men came lurking from the shadows of an old, shutdown flour mill. Beth clung to Cal's back. "How about we play a little... chase the kitten."
"Mm. That one looks good Cal, where did you get her?" He wiped his snot and beer smelling saliva with the sleeve of his coat. His beard hair had tiny icicles in it.
"Leave us be Mike. Why don't you and your buddy step out of our way. We don't need this done right now."
"Oh but Cal, I think we do. You seen Bill... Cal?" The street lamp near them flickered.
"Bill is a lucky one Mike. Now excuse us." Cal knew there wouldn't be any excusing as he tried to back away with Beth still clinging to him.
"I ain't gonna let that happen now little Cal." Mike stepped in front them.
Cal knew Beth wouldn't let go of him unless he made her. In one turn, his left hand threw her to the ground and he crouched down to grab his knife from his belt wrap. Carlos pounced on him from the right and Cal immediately punctured him in the gut. Blood spat on Cal as well as everything in close proximity to them. Jumping up quickly he noticed Mike just staring at him.
"Lets get this done Mike, you can lay right next to Bill." Cal stood out of the light listening to Beth pant with small gagging noises.
"I think your weapon choice is finally ready to haunt you." Mike held up a pristine looking tan and silver semi automatic pistol.
Cal laughed. "All you have to do is get close enough to make your kill. One hit is one kill. It is that simple." And he flew to Mike, making his statement known and true.
Beth pushed herself to her knees weeping. Cal turned to her and knelt in front of her. "I can't see his blood." She inhaled loudly.
"What do you mean?" He said with a serene, monotone voice.
"There's mud... under the snow, and I can't see the difference between his blood, and the dirt. Dirt. Does that mean Spring is fucking coming?" She had tears dripping down her face.
"I hate Spring." Cal said still in front of her. "Let's take advantage of the rest of this dark night." His deep voice lured Beth to her feet.
"How did you know them?" Beth tried to gather her scattered mind.
"You sure you want to learn?" Cal looked at her with such a deep hearted and staid look that she felt her body become light, and heavy, at the same time. She looked away from him knowing for sure what she was going to drink.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Bloody Snow
"What the hell are you doing?" Cal looked at Beth who was sitting in the cold with blood drops around her in the snow. She wouldn't move.
"Beth... what are you doing? We have to take care of this."
"Mittens?" She said stoically, holding up the empty red pair to him.
"Why are you bleeding? What's going on? It's been three days. We can't wait any longer." Beth turned away and tucked the mittens into her bag. She moved her hair from her face with difficulty because of her mittens, and the cold. She wanted so bad for Cal to hold her, but he wasn't the type. Though he would probably do it with his eyes. He spoke with his eyes a lot.
"You need to do this with me, you asked for my help. My help is to teach you."
"Teach me? I'm lost in a land far away Cal. I'm finding it hard to care about anything these days. In fact, the only thing I do care about is the fact that I can't care about anything." She looked at him to see what his eyes said... nothing.
"You cared when we beat that dirt bag. You had plenty of emotion." He looked at her now with more talkative eyes. She felt a little pressure come off of her chest when she noticed.
"That dirt bag should have been killed. By my own hands." She looked down angrily.
"We don't kill people." His arms lay by his sides and his breathing was even. She stared at the cloud that came every time he exhaled.
"I'm getting too cold." She said while searching for a cigarette in her bag. One left. She ripped her mittens off and touched the filter to her lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply. She hated smoking in front of him, and all together. Three days ago, one more blow and the dirt bag would have died. Just one more; that Cal wouldn't let Beth throw. "Do you like my snowman Cal?" She looked at the snowman realizing he was missing a nose and mouth. "Only I could manage to forget the face."
Cal laughed one 'heh' and held his hand out to her. Beth threw her cigarette and blew out her last drag. She grabbed her bag and grabbed his hand forcing the energy to stand up. He helped her.
"Get your hat and scarf." He said nodding to the snowman. She looked at the sparkling balls of snow..."I'm fine." she said shrugging. "You know this is my space Cal? My solitude. How did you find me here?"
His eyes were somber. "I heard you crying."
"How could you have known where I was though?" She looked at him flustered.
"We are friends... Beth. We are..." he had a weird look to his face, "we are friends."
She knew she wasn't going to get an answer from him, but it didn't bother her. Cal was an intelligent man. Her terrible esteem made her wonder sometimes why he was in her life. But she would never question him, for she regarded him as... she regarded him very highly.
"How's your cut?" He looked at her concerned. She felt her body shiver, and not from the cold, but from his voice.
She touched it with her two fingers feeling the thick dried up layer of liquid. "I'll survive." She replied.
"Good." He said with a slight smile. "Are you ready?"
She shook her head and they trailed through the snow side by side. She still had no answers. But she was on a mission to find them.
"Beth... what are you doing? We have to take care of this."
"Mittens?" She said stoically, holding up the empty red pair to him.
"Why are you bleeding? What's going on? It's been three days. We can't wait any longer." Beth turned away and tucked the mittens into her bag. She moved her hair from her face with difficulty because of her mittens, and the cold. She wanted so bad for Cal to hold her, but he wasn't the type. Though he would probably do it with his eyes. He spoke with his eyes a lot.
"You need to do this with me, you asked for my help. My help is to teach you."
"Teach me? I'm lost in a land far away Cal. I'm finding it hard to care about anything these days. In fact, the only thing I do care about is the fact that I can't care about anything." She looked at him to see what his eyes said... nothing.
"You cared when we beat that dirt bag. You had plenty of emotion." He looked at her now with more talkative eyes. She felt a little pressure come off of her chest when she noticed.
"That dirt bag should have been killed. By my own hands." She looked down angrily.
"We don't kill people." His arms lay by his sides and his breathing was even. She stared at the cloud that came every time he exhaled.
"I'm getting too cold." She said while searching for a cigarette in her bag. One left. She ripped her mittens off and touched the filter to her lips, lit it, and inhaled deeply. She hated smoking in front of him, and all together. Three days ago, one more blow and the dirt bag would have died. Just one more; that Cal wouldn't let Beth throw. "Do you like my snowman Cal?" She looked at the snowman realizing he was missing a nose and mouth. "Only I could manage to forget the face."
Cal laughed one 'heh' and held his hand out to her. Beth threw her cigarette and blew out her last drag. She grabbed her bag and grabbed his hand forcing the energy to stand up. He helped her.
"Get your hat and scarf." He said nodding to the snowman. She looked at the sparkling balls of snow..."I'm fine." she said shrugging. "You know this is my space Cal? My solitude. How did you find me here?"
His eyes were somber. "I heard you crying."
"How could you have known where I was though?" She looked at him flustered.
"We are friends... Beth. We are..." he had a weird look to his face, "we are friends."
She knew she wasn't going to get an answer from him, but it didn't bother her. Cal was an intelligent man. Her terrible esteem made her wonder sometimes why he was in her life. But she would never question him, for she regarded him as... she regarded him very highly.
"How's your cut?" He looked at her concerned. She felt her body shiver, and not from the cold, but from his voice.
She touched it with her two fingers feeling the thick dried up layer of liquid. "I'll survive." She replied.
"Good." He said with a slight smile. "Are you ready?"
She shook her head and they trailed through the snow side by side. She still had no answers. But she was on a mission to find them.
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