It's morel season. Well, not here in California, the desert is an abject failure of a birthing place for the little fungal delights. Morels grow best in damp, foresty areas, around the bases of particular types of trees, and are mostly found in Oregon and Michigan. Having been born in Michigan and relocated to Oregon as a child, I have participated in the Great Morel Hunt many times. My father would get all us all excited to go hunting, and the whole family would load up in the pick up truck and drive into the forest.
I naively thought I was buying time with the Prednisone, and so I was shocked to see her get thin almost right away. On Saturday, I took her to retirement day with me, because I didn't have a dog door yet, and she cannot go more than an hour and a half or so without needing to go out (from the pred). She looked okay at retirement day (10 days from diagnosis, and 5 days after starting prednisone), not chipper, but her weight looked okay.
I can't believe I've managed to stay quiet on this so long. The truth is, it's an emotional issue for me, and one I feel very strongly about. So be warned, ranting and profanity follows. Read on at your own risk. : )
Today, the California Supreme Court is hearing arguments on whether or not Prop 8 constitutes a revision to the state constitution, which is not allowed in a general vote as happened in November. (Amendments can be added in that method, but revisions cannot.) There are several issues and concerns at hand here.
I love the weekends when I get a lot of cooking done. It's just so fun trying new recipes, recreating old favorites, and having the time to be able to do so.
