We spent the evening walking down Bourbon Street in the French Quarter of New Orleans, The Big Easy. It’s Friday night, and I’m told much tamer than the partying a few nights earlier on Fat Tuesday.
My friends and I stand at the corner waiting for the light to change so we can cross the street, while revelers around us brazenly jaywalk – behavior that seems foreign to this group of girls from Seattle.
We stop for drinks at Howl At the Moon, and when they are delivered in 36 ounce plastic cups, the server explains that the 3 for one special means everyone is automatically upgraded to a triple, and the cups are plastic so we can take them out in the street.
We look outside: Everyone does carry their drinks with them in the street.
Don’t worry, we adjusted. It wasn’t long before we were jaywalking while carrying open containers. Talk about multitasking.
Beads hang from balconies, street lights, stop signs, trees, public art, and anything else that will sit still long enough to be draped with the twinkling strands in all colors of bling.
A sprinkling of rain and a sturdy breeze lends more sparkle and movement to a street that is already teeming with life; humans, pigeons, palm trees, flowers, moss, mules, dogs can all be seen in a single glance.
The next block we walk through is closed to traffic, and pedestrians fill the area between the buildings as they laugh, dance, and wander amongst the street performers and live music wafting from the insides of bars and restaurants, music so rich and textured it seems to hold a physical presence in the space as well.
Bright lights and dark corners, high contrast colors, bricks and stucco, trolleys and mule drawn carriages, trees and bling,
and ornate balconies populated with blow up dolls
conspire to create an environment that is, to me, both fun and foreign.
The second anniversary of my cancer diagnosis is quickly approaching. Of course it has me thinking. A lot. Not all the thoughts are happy thoughts, but that just comes with the territory.
But some of those thoughts are happy thoughts. Warm, fuzzy, happy thoughts. Like the girls I met because I have cancer.
These are women I would have been proud to count among my friends even before diagnosis, but I can’t imagine a scenario in which I would have met any of them outside of cancer.
This weekend a group of us traveled to New Orleans to a conference for young women with breast cancer. We learned about treatment protocols, late effects of treatment, nutrition, dealing with the impact of cancer treatment in the bedroom, and myriad other topics, and we got to spend time with other women whose lives have been similarly impacted.
Good times, good music, good food, good company…
I think the people with whom we surround ourselves have a huge influence on our happiness. Sure, we all have those people around whom we have to tiptoe and walk on eggshells, but we can dilute their influence with so many more amazing people, people who lift us up and love us for who we really are. I’m so blessed to have such amazing friends – that they understand what I’m going through with cancer because they’ve been there too just makes it that much better.
I’m a very lucky woman.
Of course I still worry about how many years I have left, but even more important than the number of trips you make around the sun is your traveling companions along the way.
One of my favorite views of Seattle is from Kerry Park, cut into the side of Queen Anne hill, and adorned with the Changing Form sculpture by Doris Chase.
Doris was good friends with my grandmother, and I got to spend quite a bit of time with her, so I may be a little biased,
But I still think the sculpture is pretty cool,
and the perfect place from which to photograph the ever-evolving city I love,
This weekend’s adventure took us to Vashon Island, meaning, with all the emphasis my bouncing 2-year-old can provide, TWO FERRY RIDES. TWO! (That’s round trip to the island for those of you keeping score. I’ve already been questioned on the count.)
Yes, that’s me. I do appear in photo’s on rare occasions (when someone grabs my camera before I can hide behind it). And look – my hair is growing back! I need a stylist, STAT!
Vashon is full of art galleries, restaurants, farms, cafes, and some of the coolest little shops we’ve ever come across.
How cool is that fridge?
SWOON!
And what’s an island without a lighthouse?
And a stunning water view
from a cottage on the beach
On days like this, I feel like I could be an island girl.
We could go back and forth for hours, but we’ve found a better solution for filling our weekends with adventure. We just hop in the car and drive. We pick a road and see where it goes, the smaller and more out-of-the-way town that we discover, the better. One of our favorite little local towns to visit is Black Diamond, Washington.
We start with breakfast in the bakery, and maybe even pick up some treats to go on our way out.
Then we wander down the boardwalk to the museum.
I love a small town museum, with it’s antique fire engine
and jail.
Then we stop by to visit the old train
before we head in to the main part of the museum
filled with the details of small mining town daily life,
from the barber shop,
to pen and ink,
and from monkey wrenches (so that’s what keeps getting thrown into the works),
to Hard Hat Harry.
But one of my favorite parts of this museum is their collection of unidentifiable tools.
Any idea what these are for? Don’t worry. The old timers don’t know either.
Do you have any favorite Pacific Northwest towns to visit? Where should we go next?
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