The days are long but the years are fast… isn’t that what they say about having kids? My little Teddy is growing up so fast. I think it’s a pain in every mother’s heart to watch it all go by so quickly, yet still so painfully, fatigue-inducingly slow. I remember when my sweet nephew Brody was born – the first grandchild of our family – the love! I never knew you could love a nephew or a niece like that. It’s after Brody was born, and he was such a sweet cool little dude, so easygoing … when I thought – well geez, maybe I could have a kid, too!
Want to see the first fondant cake I ever made? Well it was for Brody’s 1st birthday party, a Totoro themed mega bash. My sisters and I, and my husband Rich, spent days preparing, creating felt backdrops and mini Totoros and banner, and I made a Totoro themed cake and many cupcakes to match. That cake was made with lots of love – but holy crikey, looking back at it – deep pain! I remember being so nervous covering the cake with fondant, my first time doing so. Now I’ve got it down to a mild science – but I remember those sweating palms, and tearing the fondant, and shouting a lot of expletives. But that’s the beauty of starting somewhere!
Sixth and seventh birthdays I can’t remember, oops. Hehe! My intention this year was to make him something a little more spectacular but my energy can plummet like a valley from hell so I went with simple, sweet and cute light blue buttercream vanilla lightly based on Super Mario Kart cupcakes…. and a few kawaii star paper toppers. Plus this fat puffy yellow star with the kawaii eyes…
My sis Leanne aka Gyoza Girl Eats is an amazing mama. Three kids, and I remember when she had Brody, Tanner and Piper three children under the age of 3. Bonkers. But she works so hard, and has raised three super cute, sweet, thoughtful and smart (ok, also occasionally wildly insane) children. One day hopefully those little monkeys will look back and think, damn, I had a cool Auntie who loved me! Both my sisters support me in everything I do, and have been here for me through the ups and downs of life. I’m so lucky to have my sisters! xo Lyndsay
Still Coco Cake
by tag - not 0, greater than 1
Buttercream Birthday Cake For Saya + The End Of Radiation
We all gathered for Chinese food for my mom’s 71st birthday last week at New Town Bakery, where the bau sits nestled and warm in huge steamers, the staff run around in bright orange shirts (that matches the decor) and the jook runs freely, piping hot. You can peek into the kitchen to see 6-8 Chinese cooks in white paper hats standing at stations, the clang of giant utensils against woks mixed with the hot steam of frying in the air.
I brought this cute and frilly pink cake to New Town and we sang happy birthday amongst the cluttered dishes and balled up soiled napkins and general chaos of having six kids under 7 out for dinner. We sang Happy Birthday loudly and proudly, the server brought a set of mismatched plates from the 80s and a giant serrated knife for the cake.
A few days later, my husband and I celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary on January 13th, also marking 15 years together as a couple. WHAT!? Yes, our relationship is like a pimply teen, stretching its gangly legs towards adulthood. A decade and a half and its flown by like changing channels, these are the days of our lives. Naturally, we went to see Star Wars: The Force Awakens to celebrate.
Here are my thoughts, which I’ve decided to randomly share like a teen YouTuber doing a reaction video, on my cake blog. STAR WARS SPOILER ALERT, nerds! Back away! SPOILER ALERT!
Rey. Damn, she is awesome. Whip-smart, powerful, strong – the one scene in the whole movie that made me choke up is when she hears the young child crying, and she follows the voice down the stairs and discovers it’s her own memory of being abandoned as a young girl. Since then, she’s fended for herself in the dry desert landscape of Jakku, spending full hard-labour days scavenging metal and parts from old ships to trade for meal portions. I love the look of that space-future vacuum-packed food portion she receives, and you feel her hunger, her thirst. PLEASE PLEASE don’t have her captured and chained up in a Jabba the Hutt-induced slutty slave costume in future movies. PLEASE JUST LET HER BE COOL and feminist and not sexualize her.
Man, Star Wars has a lot of sadness. Dead parents, abandoned children, children taken from families to be trained to kill as storm troopers. I asked Rich afterward, how are storm troopers not totally depressed? What do they have to live for, why do they even get up every morning? Or do they live out of fear? Do they have any teensy glimpses of happiness at all? I guess they’re basically suicide bombers, their only reason to be is to kill. In the movie, they do get blasted and pegged off like swatting flies and their lives are shown to be meaningless. I hate how easily and non-chalantly people (even the bad guys) are killed in movies.
Finn. Love it. A deserter, and he steps up to be a rad character. Also, he’s not white. The whole movie is racially diverse (and creature-diverse!) and gender-diverse, everyone just chit-chatting away with each other and flying X-wing fighters and dinking around behind computer screens – gals, guys everyone competent. From a very base level approach, if I were a young girl or boy watching this movie, it would appear to me that anyone and everyone can do anything – the women can annihilate, fly planes, slide down giant sand hills, kick serious storm trooper ass and it’s natural and normal for either gender. Of course Han Solo has some incredulousness towards Rey’s abilities but it’s sort of like new order trumps old order – in this Star Wars, it’s the white gal, the black guy and the giant furry oversized bear-dog that cruises off into the galaxy as the heroes.
I liked how the dialogue wasn’t boringly serious but had some real zingers. Overall the movie had a campy feel, almost veering on Spaceballs – like when Kylo Ren loses his MIND after Rey escapes and is slashing the place up with his glowing red man-stick and it shows the hallway with two storm troopers about to come into the room and then realizing Kylo Ren’s having a spazz attack and being like – Oh hell no, and backing away…
Leia. Sadly, General Organa kind of sucked. I didn’t feel her General-ness, and I found Carrie Fisher’s acting to be stiff as a board; her acting was so glaringly bad against Harrison Ford’s effortless Han Solo. Yes, older woman can be powerful (She’s a General!), sexy (Han’s love interest), strong (General!), motherly (aching for the loss of her son, also motherly to Rey). I was getting a community amateur theatre vibe from her bad acting and to me it stuck out like a sore thumb.
Han Solo. SPOILER ALERT, nerds! I’m still in shock! Nooooo! Why kill off the coolest vintage character? Every time he’s on the screen, there’s some jazzy funny dialogue or he’s goofing with his main squeeze Chewie or just being altogether charismatic. Now who is going to stop horrible Kylo Ren? Wood board Leia?? Kylo Ren is beyond a jerk to me now! I felt some empathy for him when he removed his helmet for Rey. But not now. Argh. Also, as my friend Steph and I noted: THE BRIDGE. DON’T GET ON THAT CRAZY ASS SKINNY BRIDGE WITH THE 1000 FOOT DROP AND NO SIDE RAILINGS.
Chewbacca. Guy can do a lot with howling. I felt like he should’ve been a LOT more sad and in deeper pain after Han. Same with Leia!! The love of your life is gone! One forlorn look off in the distance is not good enough!
Poe Dameron. Dude’s voice is like smooth chocolate by a warm fireplace spread with a bearskin rug. I feel like he was lit BEAUTIFULLY like a matinee idol in those first scenes! I clapped when his character came back. Obviously I knew he couldn’t be dead yet but still, the clap came. Side note: I’ve come across some very interesting fan art featuring Poe and Finn smooching and more. LOVE IT!
BB-8. Thank GOD for this cute little guy! The round and chubby little droid that could provides some cuteness relief from all the terror. He’s the loyal dog.
C-3PO. As annoying as ever! I’ve never liked him. He’s the Big Bird of Star Wars! His only redeeming quality is that he’s shiny gold in colour.
The orange wrinkly fish faced lady Maz Kanata. I get that she’s supposed to be the wise black reggae free-bird lady, a motherly figure, a strong female presence to encourage and guide Rey. Yoda-ish? Her and Yoda could get married and have babies, some green, some orange.
Captain Phasma. A terribly boring character with a wickedly cool outfit, and a bummer that she is relegated to a trash compactor joke…
The big freaky hologram Tales From The Crypt guy. Ugh, just ugh. Pure evil! Andy Serkis has certainly pigeon-holed himself as far as roles. Gollum gone giant and WAY more evil.
The entire set design and production was so amazing, so 80s, so perfectly in line with the original Star Wars movies. All I remember about The Phantom Menace etc was the booooring long over-explanatory dialogue and the lack of good story. The Force Awakens was just simply a FUN movie with a good old fashioned story with characters you can glomp onto and invest in and fall in love with. I know, I know – it’s also a bloated capitalist BILLION DOLLAR MARKETING POT BELLIED PIG MACHINE and it’s disturbing how omnipresent it has become in our culture, product and merchandising ram-jammed down our throats. But if you go into it with open arms, a child’s heart and the hope that you might simply be entertained, you certainly will be.
And back to my beloved mom… She babysat Teddy for us so Rich and I could sneak off for a night of romance a.k.a. go to Metrotown to see the new Star Wars in 3-D. I was even too full to get popcorn. Every year on our anniversary, I like to bring out our wedding photo albums and guest book, and look through the stack of photo booth pictures Rich and I have taken through the years – from our first photo strip, as smooth baby-faced early 20-somethings, through a range of haircuts, styles, facial hair, glasses, no glasses, wrinkles, grey hairs and present day ones with the addition of Teddy. I had read our guest book earlier in the day and noticed that my mom had never signed our wedding guest book! So she signed it when we were at the movies, and here’s the last line:
“Love you both! Happy happy anniversary, Love Mom!
2016, the year we start teleporting through magic screens and Jetson around the skies on interplanetary highways and robots pretty much rule the earth. 2016, the year in which life continues to resume. Flashback to last week, Christmas holidays: Christmas casual at my mother-in-law’s place in Victoria for the holidays, her place is so cozy and comfortable you could melt into those reclining chairs and stay a lifetime. I was wearing jogging pants and a cozy sweatshirt, letting it loose in no bra and just finished a huge plate of Thai food takeout while watching TV. Classy times. Thumb-scrolled over to Facebook and clicked on my Coco Cake Land page. Notification: “Yahoo Food has tagged you in a post, 8 hours ago.” What’s this, I thought? Perhaps they shared my unicorn ginge house…
Yep, that’s right. We food bloggers are real people. Jogging pants wearing, food-eating people. Some of us have one and a half boobs. But seriously, to be recognized like that… after this past year that has been crammed full of cancer and loss. I was so surprised, but so happy. And I felt inspired to keep blogging. So thank you, Yahoo Food, for making me feel proud of my posts this past year and for giving my mother the chance to mass-email everyone she knows with the link. I am pretty stoked to be a part of an incredible community of sweet bloggers, many whom I can call my friends. Pretty pretty neat, and can I just say once again with gratitude and excitement – “Ya-muthah-effing-hoooooooo!!!!” I’m glass-half-fulling 2016.
And this chocolate nutella cake! Yes, this one – I made it for my husband for his birthday in December. He loves chocolate hazelnut so I crammed as much choco-haze goodness into this as I could. The filling is straight Nutella, with chocolate ganache drip and everyone’s favourite nutty party balls (Ferrero Rocher) on top.
I love you RT! Thank you for looking after me this past year, and for being the coolest dad to our Teddy. And to my wonderful readers and friends – Happy 2016! Thank you for being here and I truly wish you all the best this year! xo Lyndsay
Is everyone eating kale already? Or are we still cool to push “holiday weight gain 2015″ to a deeper level?? How about we think about chocolate a little with this mint malt ball topped chocolate buttercream drippy cake? I made this jumbotron chocolate beast for my wonderful dad’s birthday.
Let me give you a taste of the magic that is my dad: Gerry Sung. He used to work in the fruit and vegetable wholesale business until he retired. He loves Hawaii so much his email signature is “Aloha.” He wears Hawaiian shirts all year round, and has a bulging collection of vintage Hawaiian shirts, many that were his own father’s. He looks tough and possibly Asian-gangster-like sometimes but he is the most generous and big-hearted person, with a hilarious sense of humour. He liked to terrify my sisters and I’s potential boyfriends when we were in high school. After retiring, he volunteered doing mountain safety patrol on the local ski hill for over a decade until he collapsed one morning on the mountain, only to be flown via helicopter to Vancouver hospital and straight into open heart surgery for a tear in his aorta. He survived this surgery, which had a 20% survival rate. He is a rock. A strong, broad-shouldered, forever-moustached Chinese rock. He is an encyclopedia of cars and loves Porsches in particular. He loves spam musubi, all meat, every dessert, all treats, and my cakes, especially. He laughs at all my jokes, and I laugh at his. He is an amazing grandpa, and dad. He “likes” every one of my posts on my Instagram, and turtle thumb-types emails to me from his iPhone, like this recent one: “Just wanted to tell you how much I love you and I am so happy you are such a toughie battler and are doing well. Love dad. Aloha”
Yeah. Gerry Sung rules the school. PS – here’s how the cake looked after my son wanted to help decorate! Love you so much, dad!!! xo Lyndsay
In our rainy neck of the woods, November is a dark month. Daylight evaporates by 5pm and when the air isn’t chilly buns cold, we are pelted with rain which sometimes feels as though it may never end. While Vancouver is postcard-beautiful (from the outside, anyway) on a sun filled day, the constant wet weather can drown you. Guns n Roses basically got it right when Axl howled “cold November Rain”. November is the month my father-in-law died suddenly, 5 years ago. November is also my birthday month. Goth from the womb, I must’ve been born on a rainy day. I feel like a ghost this year. Like the last year went by both incredibly slow, during my painful days of chemo, and exceedingly fast – here I am, about to turn 39. That is a crazy number to me, only because I feel my 30s went by in a lightning flash. I don’t feel “39″, but I’m not sure what 39 is meant to feel like? To an older person, it’s a young number; to a teen, it’s ancient. I don’t think I feel fundamentally different than I did when I turned 29, although when I turned 29 I fretted away that I was getting old. And now, a decade went by like a weekend.
Having cancer has changed me, but maybe not as much as I thought it would. I don’t know if this is because sometimes, thinking of myself as a cancer survivor is surreal to me – I had cancer? Days, weeks, months went by, almost a year. Everyone is back to doing their daily things, and I’m expected to roll into living life once again too. The blog world continues to turn over constantly, seasonality marked by a flood of holiday recipes and flavours and I’m trying to care about it again but sometimes it’s overwhelming and too much. Cancer has made me slow down when my old self was a fast-moving, immediacy-thirsty person. Patience with myself, my abilities, and trying to get through some days without feeling slumped-over blue. A book helps. My mindful meditation podcast helps. The body heals – it wants us to survive, it does everything in its power to help us heal. The mind carries the scars.
As we age, do we ever feel different, or actually old? It’s an odd feeling to see the exterior of our physical selves grow, change, wrinkle, sag. Like I never imagined I would look down and my hands might look exactly as I remember my mom’s hands when I was a child – wrinkly knuckles and long fingers with an E.T.-ish quality (although I don’t recall my mom having hairy fingers like I do. DAD!!) You tend to imagine you’ll be 25 forever, or whatever the magical age is. I liked 31-33, personally. I look back at photos from that time period and my body is much more fit than I ever gave it credit for; my skin looks finely oiled, lipstick and bangs, pre-baby body. We women are duly hard on ourselves! So now my body looks quite different, but I stop to appreciate it. Like sometimes I just can’t believe I’m still alive. It’s a feeling I’m sure I’ll be processing til the end of my days. xo Lyndsay
Cocktails and Dreams … I don’t know why these photos remind me of the name of the bar in the final scene of Cocktail the movie but they do … Tom Cruise is so uncool maybe he’s about to get cool again? Kind of like how a few years ago, street fashion had frigging Doc Martens on the rise and I thought “OH GEEZ NO.” And now I’ve warmed up to them and now I feel like “oh God no. I want a pair.” Then I also think: “WHY did I get rid of all of my Doc Martens in the 1990s?” Although I had a horrid pair of (at the time, very cool) blueberry 12 hole Docs. I’ve been reading the excellent book Women In Clothes before bed and it’s really been jogging my clothing memory. I’ve gone through so many purges of clothing over the decades, so many different looks. I like how honestly the women answer how clothing and style and how they look to the world affects them. What I wear and how I look definitely burns like a marshmallow fire on my subconscious, and being hyper-aware of my changing looks these last 8 months having gone through breast cancer treatment has made me all the more conscious, and self-conscious. To not be able to control my outward appearance – to give in to the look of bald Fugazi Mom or Erykah Badu turban queen, or simply the tired, pale grey shapeless egg woman, I am excited to turn to clothing and fashion to help express myself once again. My hair is in true thick and growing-in, puffball status right now and I am gleeful, excited of its potential. My face colour has returned and I’ve been continuing my daily exercise, which seriously makes one’s skin glow. With every pump of the arms of the elliptical machine, blood rushes to the face, sweat clears out pores.
I made this raspberry-dotted vanilla buttercream birthday cake (with strawberry jam filling) for my dear friend Miko’s daughter Saya’s 5th birthday. I haven’t been baking much lately but I really wanted to make something for Miko – her family has supported me so much through my cancer treatments over the last 8 months, from bringing me meals, to presents and treats, to even getting me a DVD player and a stack of DVDs so I could watch uplifting movies like Totoro while recovering from chemo. I was so happy to be able to make something special for Saya!
I will always love the simple buttercream birthday cake. Especially in pastel cute colours and a hand-tossing of sprinkles. You can read my post on how to frost a cake here!
This past Monday I finished my last radiation appointment. Last zapping of the boob. My husband sent me the cutest text: “So exciting! I can already imagine the John Hughes freeze frame when you fist pump on your way out the door! Love you!” I am happy. I have knocked off three big components of my breast cancer treatment: surgery, chemo and now radiation. I can’t believe I’ve done it, sometimes. I remember sitting in the surgeon’s office back in February and hearing the long list of treatments I would be going through, all so foreign and scary and unknown. I had no idea how I would feel or who I would be or what I would look like when it was all done. While I still have Herceptin infusions for the next 8 months and Tamoxifen (a targeted hormone therapy drug treatment) for the next 5 years (although I’ve spoken with my oncologist about holding off on it until after I try implanting a frozen embryo) … I feel like Lyndsay Sung is coming back to life. And it’s a good feeling. xo Lyndsay
I made this sour cherry topped rainbow cake yesterday. Just for the hell of it. Just to bake, to make something pretty, to exercise my frosting arm. Our lovely neighbors’ tree was filled with these bright, sweetly sour cherry bombs – I love it when fruit just bursts from a tree all of a sudden, speckled like shimmery red polka dots. The last time I baked a whole cake was way back in January, for my mom’s 70th birthday high tea party. The day before my mom’s big party, my family doctor phoned me, her voice hushed and strained with concern. She had called to tell me the results of the biopsy on the “weird growth” that had shown up on an ultrasound of my right breast. My worst fears were confirmed: it was “C.” Cancer. Me!! Breast cancer. I tried to remain calm as she told me the specific type of cancer it was and how she had made me an appointment with a surgeon. I scribbled down what she was telling me, but my body was in shock. I could hear Teddy playing in the other room. As soon as I heard him, the tears welled up and gushed out. I had breast cancer. I might die. I might have to leave my child. Teddy could be motherless. I had no idea what was going on in my body.
It’s been almost 6 months now and my body has been through so much. IVF to save my eggs for hopefully future babies. The passing of my beloved grandma, the coolest old lady in town, who I miss very much. Surgery to remove a portion of my right breast (I call it a mini boob now – a mini version of my left boob. The little sister.) The loss of my lovely black hair. Chemo, which I hate so much and gives me great anxiety. And on many days, the loss of my self esteem, my energy and my creativity.
The first half of 2015? It’s had some shitty times, let’s just say! I’ve had horrible days of deep depression, confusion and frustration with my body, my brain. But through all the yucky stuff, there’s been plenty of good stuff. It’s the stuff I look for daily, the stuff I treasure and keep in my heart. For instance: I am pretty good at tying a big old scarf on my head. I am medium-ok (not really) at drawing on Charlie Chaplin style cartoon eyebrows. I have experienced soooo much goodness and kindness and incredible gestures from so many people, whether it’s been meals made for my family, big and little cheer-me-up gifts in the mail, hats knit with love, thoughtful messages, letters and so many offers of help. Presents for Teddy, snacks left at the door. Even Miffy spam musubi! Such an enormous amount of love and dammnit, I feel blessed. I am sooo in a deep treasuring state for all of my friends and family. For the new friends I’ve made, people who have reached out. For my friends all over the world who I’ve met through this blog and my Instagram. Other good things: my husband graduating from medical school! And Teddy practicing all of his “bad words” is pretty amusing too. Penis, pennis, bagina, poo, pee, diarrhea – the songs and giggles are endless. What can I do? Some days he tells me to put on my hair (my wig). Other times he tells me to take my wig off so he can see my “egghead.” All I can do is laugh.
I have one more chemo to go, on June 30th. Just seeing the words chemo makes me sick to my stomach. I can’t wait until it’s over. I’m ready to freak out for when it’s all done. Then I have a long-ish break before radiation starts in late August – so this Chinese bald eagle is gonna FLY! Not really. I’m going to hang out in my backyard and eat homemade snowcones and tons of snacks and read magazines and watch Teddy frolic around his kiddie swimming pool. Heck, I might even dunk my bald head in there if he hasn’t peed in the pool.
This cake! Baking this cake gave me hope. I saw my cakey future again. To have ideas, and energy, and excitement again to work and create, to work on my cake book… to take my son to preschool, to run around with him without getting so tired. To cook, to celebrate, to hang out with friends, to travel, to go on a nice mini trip with my husband who has been so incredible throughout this… to see my hair grow back and not feel so low self-esteemy. This happy chappy pink cherry topped rainbow cake is my little beacon of hope on the horizon, that my life will be coming back to me. I can’t wait. Hoping you all get to do something fun this weekend – here’s to the second half of 2015 tearing the first half a new one! And thank you as always for reading! xo Lyndsay
The days are really blurring together. My mind is but a facsimile of what it once was – I reminisce about my old brain. A friend emailed me asking me if chemo brain was anything like mama brain – she is a new expectant mom – and I thought, shite, no. For me, mama brain came from the sleep deprived zombie nights, nursing Teddy at all hours and keeping him happy and non-crying. Chemo brain comes from having your brain fried up like offal cuts on poison drugs! But what a difference a cream puff can make, right?! My dear sis brought me a box of my fave Vancouver cream puffs the night before my second round of chemo. I chowed down through those creamy crispy crumbly textures and flavours. Closed my eyes and ate through the anxiety.
Oh how I miss my artful bowl cut, as seen above, during my very first chemo treatment in April… At the time I was so sad to chop my long black hair into the short little ‘do six weeks ago but now I am a solid believer in the short cut. Casual times, no muss, no fuss, no hair drying and no products! But now… NOW I am so sad that my little bowl cut is gone. Because this happened:
My hair was starting to float down like dog-shedding snowflakes, raining hard on my bowl cut parade. Then it began pulling out in huge chunks. And I couldn’t stop pulling at it because I was so fascinated/disturbed. So the time came to shave it off like a teen lawnmower. I was trying to stay thrice removed from the head shave, just mentally floating above, peeking in… I asked Rich to crank some metal and I was trying to stay tough. I was doing ok, laughing even, mostly in shock, until we cut off my bangs – my precious bangs! I’ve had my black bangs for TWO DECADES. A friend once described them to me as my signature look so I glomped onto that idea. When they floated away to the floor in a shaved off heap the tears started pouring down my face.
Looks. Playing with my newfound looks – thug fisherman meets Ian Mackaye. I walked in behind a woman and her two children going into the Ladies Washroom wearing this and I got a freaked out double take. It was so disconcerting and bizarre that I had frightened her – I had forgotten that I wasn’t a long haired lady-looking woman anymore…
This is me right before my second chemo. Chiquita Banana meets Rosie the Riveter, perfect since I am yellowy Chinese AND a feminist. The scarf is light as a feather and colourful and made me feel a little less thug life man-about-town. My red lipstick always helps.
THIS look – this is my wig! It looks exactly like my old hair … it’s so bizarre though, holding it up, it feels like I’ve scalped someone – wigs are creepy. And SOOOO hot. This wig, with the cotton toque on top, it feels like I’m walking around with a bonfire on my head.
I have been the recipient of so many incredible acts of kindness and love. It gives me hope in humanity and makes me count every blessing and friendship and family member. My sweet little boo holding the soft serve ice cream lamp a group of friends gave to me to cheer me up. LOVE it. So silly and fun and perfect because I am a maximum conehead.
This incredible spread … including the gorgeous flowers … from my neighbor – chef and mama Julie of Kitchen Culinaire, who also happens to have an incredible Instagram and blog… Her work makes me want to be a better cook…
Cake. It’s always on my mind, Willie Nelson style. My forever love affair. Making lists of new cake ideas, but listless in my energy and abilities… which makes me upset, anxious, depressed … I know my shitty energy and feelings of chemo-syrup-head won’t last forever. But it’s depressing to me to not have the ability to create at the moment …
Like this happy chappy catbus cake. Sometimes I just have to go back in time and look at the work I’ve made and know that I’ll get back there soon.
Right now I’m just floating along. Like this silly fish cake. Glub glub. I feel like a fish face, round and puffy, maybe a fish trapped in a tank at a Chinese restaurant. Lying in bed, watching Mind Of A Chef, surfing Instagram and posting little things and interacting a bit, impulse shopping and being a general idiot. My Brillo pad hair rough against my pillow, headphones in, drifting in and out of sleep, snacking on crackers and warm water. I’ve been trying to listen to Just Kids by Patti Smith but her voice is so soothing I’m out like a light and have slept through several chapters. Hoping to get out of this fuzzy phase of chemo round 2 and come out into the sunshine, maybe turn the oven on, bake something, take a few pics… ambitious, but possible. I’m still happy though … I have so much amazingness in my life… but can’t help but feel down sometimes still… Thanks as always for the kind words – I am hoping you are all doing well! xo Lyndsay