Recipe: chocolate pistachio almond tartlets
I’ve had some thoughts milling in the back of my mind all weekend since I learned of Sherry’s recent and sudden passing. I didn’t know Sherry, but the food blogging community is pretty tight and news travels quickly. I know what it is like to lose someone you love very suddenly and let me tell you – it is a complete mindfuck. Since then I no longer assume that the people I love will always be there and so I try to make every moment count. When you get a cancer diagnosis, your mind undoubtedly lingers on your own mortality… but as I told my surgeon, it is a slow-motion crisis. I knew and still know that I could very well die in a car accident or some other random event, just like that – trivializing the whole cancer BS. And no matter what my own condition is, I also know that losing certain people in my life would be far worse than losing my own life. I don’t take my time for granted and I don’t take the people around me for granted. Lessons learned the hard way. While we all have our moments, pitching a fit over stupid little day to day minutiae that we turn into Major Drama, it helps to always keep that bigger picture in mind and remember what is really important. My heart aches for Sherry’s loved ones who are left behind, missing the one they thought they’d never have to live without – at least not so soon. I wish them peace.
early morning stream
Jeremy, Kaweah, and I hiked to Pawnee Pass on the Continental Divide again yesterday morning, this time with a friend who had never been. The original plan was to hike Pawnee Peak at about 13,000 feet. I woke up feeling exhausted, which wasn’t a good sign. Since I had hiked to the pass a week ago, I could gauge my progress. Above lovely Lake Isabelle, I began to experience shooting pains and fatigue – all expected side-effects from my treatment. At this point I told Jeremy and our friend to hike ahead because I wasn’t sure how far I would get, but I wanted our friend to summit as I had been promising this hike all summer.
enjoying the quiet stream and flowers
**Jump for more butter**