This just in: Tiff's out of surgery, at home, and recovering amazingly well. We may have to put one of those traffic-cone-dog-collar thingies on her to slow her down a bit. Her lymph nodes didn't show any cancer so it looks like we were able to suppress the mammary insurrection before it spread. She looks great; turns out having small boobs can be a blessing. If she'd been a D cup she'd probably have trouble not walking in circles now. Friday we go to her follow up appointment and boobs-r-us to pick up the robo-hooter. faster! stronger! better! Turns out they don't make any falsies that are also a bottle opener or even a change purse. I thought maybe I'd finally get out of carrying Tiff's I.D. and money around. After that, we head to the beach for some continued recovery and good times.


The last week has been a hectic and high-mileage affair. I flew to Kentucky with Stella while Tiff finished up at her job and then met up with us for the drive down to Atlanta for surgery. Some notes from the road for interested parties...

Watching Stella push her own stroller through the airport while screaming "Push! Push!" cracked me up. Seeing her do it while using Tiffany's "business walk" made it even better. I discovered that pointing a toddler the wrong direction on a moving sidewalk works well as a good pre-flight work-out. The other passengers enjoyed Stella enthusiastically saying "Hi people!" and "Bye people!" as they boarded and exited.

Our travel plans inadvertently lead us through Lexington, Indiana, and Georgia where we were able to see so many of our friends and family. It felt like we were just collecting good vibes from the moment we got here. A heartfelt thanks to everyone; the love we've been shown this week was a salvation and an immeasurable blessing. Our phones were dinging with so many well-wishing texts that it sounded like we were hanging out in some kind of Las Vegas for gerbils.

Tiff spent her last day before surgery walking around Atlanta, flashing the landmarks and wandering through the park topless while her friend Brandi photographed the last ride of the left boob. It was the irreverent, give-fate-the-finger, kind of day we needed. It was also fun to see a vanload of teenage boys nearly break their necks trying to figure out if they really saw a topless woman hanging upside down in a tulip poplar tree. Women, hear me now: use your hooters. Stop strapping them down and hiding them away. They are the spring flowers of femininity and will fade soon enough. (sorry, I get worked up about boobs these days)

Riding home from the hospital around sunset we saw the full moon rising on the horizon. Corny but true; it was large, round, and pink, a cosmic nipple waxing perky in the cool evening air.

Again thanks to everybody who was rooting for Tiff, we could feel it and I think it made all the difference in the world. Love from here, right back atcha.