In case you haven’t had it marked on your calendar since last March, today is Food on a Stick Day! We hosted a skewer-filled dinner party (for 16 people, omg) on Saturday to observe this important occasion. We supplied the main course, beverages, tables and most of the chairs, and the guests brought everything else. Here’s the menu (sorry about my poor food styling and photography skills):

Appetizers (aka the toothpick course)

Moroccan-spiced lamb meatballs (delicious dipping sauce not shown)

Goat cheese-jalapeno hush puppies (and that dipping sauce meant for the meatballs)

Curry-crab hush puppies and toothpick-ready shrimp

Salad (aka the prettiest course)

Stack o' skewered salads

Single skewered salad

Main dishes (aka the kebab course)

Pork with peanut sauce and honey-glazed chicken

Spicy Asian steak with portabellas and cherry tomatoes

Side dishes (aka the use-your-imagination course)
No pictures, but we had red potato chunks stacked on a skewer and asparagus (no stick required). Each spear was individually wrapped in pastry in a lattice pattern with a bit of prosciutto. Beautiful and delicious.

Dessert (aka the cake-pop-free course)

Strawberries and brownies on a stick, served with whipped cream and a candied hazelnut

Also for dessert, fondue complete with marshmallows and crushed graham crackers for MYO-s’mores-on-a-stick.

We still ended up with quite a few forks to wash, but it was totally worth it.

Like so many others, I started reading Susan’s blog around the time she was diagnosed with cancer. Like so many others, I commented on her posts, trying to lend a bit of support. I was one of hundreds, if not more; and yet the few times I saw Susan in person, she knew me and greeted me warmly. As a friend.

From my friend, I learned about inflammatory breast cancer (IBC) for the first time. I learned about how to support a friend with cancer (and then I did it, when a local friend was diagnosed with breast cancer too).

Today Susan died, after living with IBC and its aftermath for five years. During that time she contributed to research on women in planetary science, founded a website for mothers with cancer, and raised funds and awareness and support for other women with breast cancer.

Her connection to me was slight, but her impact was not. (Below is the photo I contributed to the @whymommy love fest, a digital card that was too big and beautiful to be contained in just one file, and grew to three lovely videos.)

If you are moved to honor Susan’s memory, consider a donation to the Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Or, join the Army of Women, another cause Susan supported; it doesn’t cost a dime. Or, send up a prayer. In recent years, Susan converted to Catholicism, and I know she found great comfort in it. Here is a prayer to St. Dominic, the patron saint of astronomers and science. He is often pictured with a dog, which is again fitting since Susan also loved dogs and opened her home to many foster pups.

Wonderful Saintly Founder of the eloquent Order of Preachers and friend of Saint Francis of Assisi, you were a fiery defender of the Faith and a fighter against the darkness of heresy. You resembled a great star that shone close to the world and pointed to the Light which was Christ. Help astronomers to study the stars and admire their wonderful Maker, proclaiming: “Give glory to God in the highest.” Amen.

Susan Niebur was a great star that shone close to the world. We will miss her here on earth.

Remember when there was that whole brouhaha over Facebook censoring photos of moms breastfeeding?* I wonder how Zuckerberg et al. would feel about the breastmilk relay I participated in last weekend–since it was facilitated by Facebook.

My friend K. posted that she had milk to donate (pumped before she knew her baby couldn’t tolerate dairy). I replied that I knew a mom who would be very grateful to have it–my friend T., whose baby girl is thriving on donor milk while her mom undergoes chemotherapy.

So K. and I met in a parking lot and transferred a huge batch of milksicles from the cooler in her trunk to the cooler in my trunk, and then I brought my cooler to T.’s and emptied it into her freezer. Jo was with me and we had a long conversation about what we were doing and why. It was a privilege to participate and we all have Facebook to thank for it. Ha!

*Apparently it’s still going on… says this post at a Time mag blog.

The other day my sister and I compared notes on our first mammograms. She’s four years younger than I am, so she wasn’t quite due yet, but she had a lumpy spot that her doctor thought was worth looking at (especially since our mother survived breast cancer almost 20 years ago). We agreed: OWWEE, but manageable. And we’re both fine.

This same week, my friend T. started chemo to treat stage II breast cancer. It was diagnosed when she was 8 months pregnant. She had a lumpectomy right away, but delayed the start of chemo until three weeks after her baby’s birth. This meant changing OBs, because her (former) doctor insisted that the only option was to deliver the baby by c-section at 38 weeks, then quickly remove the tumor and start chemo. T. refused, arguing that she’d prefer her baby to be born full term, thanks, and recover from the (nonsurgical) birth before undergoing chemo. Now that’s the kind of mama grizzly I like to support.

My friends here in Mayberry and I organized a meal schedule* for T. and her family (despite the fact that she and her husband are both trained chefs. That’s not intimidating at all). As the nominal keeper of this schedule, I’ve been lucky enough to e-meet some really lovely people, people that care about T. and her family too, people that I wouldn’t otherwise have encountered. It’s a good feeling.

Our book club will put together a care package for T. based on Susan’s list. You probably know Susan, and if you do you’ll know why I’ve posted her warrior princess minifig in the sidebar. I may not be able to deliver her a hot meal, but virtual hugs, funding for the great causes she supports, and spreading her important message as far as I can? That I can do.

And you can:

• Get your own warrior princess button
• Join the Army of Women (I’ve been a member for a year or more–it costs nothing more than your time to read the occasional email)
• Contribute to Crickett’s Answer to help breast cancer survivors
• Read more about inflammatory breast cancer
• Get a mammogram when you turn 40! We’re all doing it!

*shout-out to Foodtidings.com — so helpful!

Today is Prematurity Awareness Day (thank you, Christina and many others, for writing about this, asking us to post today for a baby we love). It’s also 10 months exactly since we lost our baby boy prematurely. He wasn’t born too early; he never even got that chance. But so many families are affected by unexpected, unexplained premature birth. My friend Selena is one of them. Her son, Nolan, was born just shy of 27 weeks’ gestation. I didn’t know her then, so I didn’t meet Nolan until he was about a year old. But I’ll never forget the first time I saw Nolan’s first footprints, framed and displayed on a shelf in his room. Taken together, his two feet were no bigger than the pad of my thumb. Impossibly tiny.

Nolan is now six years old. Taking him home from the hospital alive (after four months in the NICU) was only the beginning. While he can walk, climb, swim, and play with his brothers, he cannot speak, and he struggles with eating and swallowing. He was fed through a tube in his stomach for several years. He has other developmental delays and medical issues. He sees an endless parade of doctors, therapists, and other specialists. His playroom is stocked with toys designed to stimulate his brain and his body (play food and a kitchen, for example, to help him learn to eat and enjoy food).

Of course, he is also a joy to his family, including his two younger brothers–both of whom were born at full term, thanks in part to closer monitoring of Selena’s pregnancies. I just found out yesterday that she is expecting another baby in the spring. As it would for any parent who’s been through such an emotional wringer, this news brings both joy and fear. So today I am posting for Selena’s new baby, for Nolan, for my little Simon, and for all babies born too soon. Please visit the March of Dimes to learn more about prematurity and what you can do to help.

The occasion: My birthday, and that of a friend.

The event: A dinner party in our honor, with four other friends as guests, and our two husbands as chefs/hosts.

The menu:

• Cold hors d’oeuvres — goat cheese balls with roasted walnuts, crostini with olive tapenade or artichokes and parmesan, fresh gazpacho
• Hot hors d’oeuvres — scallops with paprika, grilled shrimp, tortilla espanola, chorizo
• Roast turkey breast with truffle oil
• Grilled vegetables prepared in a citrus bath
• Green beans with orange zest and sesame
• Saffron rice
• Dessert — raspberry sorbet, mint ice cream, and ginger ice cream with berries and cookies
• Beverages — red sangria, white sangria, berry bellinis, fruit-infused water (strawberry/rhubarb and lemon/blueberry)

My friend K. and I hatched this plan a few weeks ago and boy did it ever succeed. We were talking about how all she wanted for her birthday was a really nice meal that she didn’t have to prepare herself. We moved into talking about how I would love to entertain more, but my husband gets super-anxious about having things just so when people come over. Somehow these two came together into an idea to have the two guys work together on a dinner party for us. I pretended I knew nothing about this while E. (K.’s  husband) emailed my husband to propose such an event. And then it all came together in my backyard last night. I sat on a chair for about five straight hours eating and drinking and chatting and can you think of a better birthday present?!

Cherry on top: The kids stayed at E.’s house with K.’s parents and when I picked them up, K.’s mom said “These two children have some of the best manners I have ever seen!” I’m sure she was just being nice but I will take that compliment ANY TIME.

For some words (crazy ones? You be the judge), go visit Binkytowne, where I am guest posting today on behalf of the vacationing Amy. She asked me to describe my most memorable vacation. You’ll have to click over to find out if I followed the rules.

Opie has a good friend, a sweet little boy named Nick. They are the same size (that is, smallish) and have the same shade of blond hair. They’ve been mistaken for twins more than once.

In recent weeks, though, Nick has become more than just a preschool pal. He is a character of epic proportion, a creature of legend. Many, many times a day, we hear “Did you know: Nick can … ” or “This one time? Nick? He … ” Nick has all the amazing skills and thrills of an imaginary friend, except he is based on a true story. We have been collecting Nick citations and believe me, this is just a small sampling:

• One time Nick gave a waiter a one hundred million ninety tip.
• Did you know Nick’s middle name is Rockethead?
• One time at Nick’s house a big tree got strucken by lightning.
• Nick can throw a bocce ball up into space.
• Nick’s grandpa drives a wrecking ball crane.
• Nick dumps milk on his chin to have a milk mustache and then puts it onto his side for a milk beard.
• Did you know Nick has a water piano?
• Nick built a rocket ship.
• This one time, Nick’s dog fell in love with Courtney’s dog.
• Nick made a TV show called “The Muffins.”
• Nick has a camper.

I really can’t wait to find out what Nick will be up to next.

Didja see these two cuties? Nonlinear Nora had twins, a boy and a girl, last Friday, and Mo-Wo is throwing a babies’ shower. (So what if the babies are already here. We like to flout convention here in the blogosphere.) Our gift to Nora: a list of picture books for her growing family and its growing library.

I love to give books as baby presents. No worries about size or decor or duplication; if they have it already it’s easy to regift or donate. If the baby in question has an older sibling, get a board book and a big-kid picture book and everyone’s happy. My must-gives include Where the Sidewalk Ends, the Little Pea/Little Hoot combo by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and anything and everything by Peggy Rathmann (Gloria is a dead ringer for our own dog).

For Nora’s new little pair, today I offer the talented author/illustrator duo of Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler, starting with The Gruffalo and The Gruffalo’s Child. The rhymes and illustrations work  together brilliantly in these two very funny books about a clever mouse who outwits a much bigger adversary. Another title by these two that I adore is Room on the Broom, in which a temporarily wandless witch is saved from an unpleasant end by a motley pack of companion animals.

As Mo-Wo says, Nora, “our hearts are filled with gladness for you all”–gruffaloes, mice, babies and all.

(P.S. Speaking of mice, I trust you already have a copy of Noisy Nora, one of the best sibling jealousy books ever?)

Our book club is currently reading a short-story collection written by the husband of one of our members. I’m only halfway through it, but I am enjoying it very much. When we first decided to read it, the plan was for the author to come to our meeting, which is next week, and join in our discussion. Now I’m not sure that he is coming, because we’ll be meeting at a restaurant instead of at their home as we typically do.

But either way, I’m a little stuck on what to say and ask. Typically our discussions tend toward what we liked and didn’t, characters that annoyed us, what we found believable or un-, what messages we took away from the book. I’m curious as to how that will all play out with the very different dynamic of having to consider the author’s feelings too.

What would you want to know? Would you focus on questions about writing process or seize the opportunity to dive more deeply into the characters’, and the author’s, motivations and choices?