A wish

So green, and sunny at last! According to the weatherman we've had thirteen straight days of "measurable precipitation." I'll say.

Nestled in the green (earlier today, before the sun came out) is the yarn I'm using for my Hedgerow Mitts. The Knitters Review Greatest Hedgerowalong on Earth starts tomorrow, so I wound my skein today. I might have started knitting, too, but I'm not telling.

Anyway, I ordered this beautiful skein of Alexandra Superwash Merino from Jennifer at Spirit Trail Fiberworks. It's even more beautiful in person, and it might even look great on the needles, but I won't know that till tomorrow, will I? ;-)

I hope the weather gets better soon. Summer is almost here, after all. It seems like it's been weeks since we made it out of the 60's. The bookstore is getting busier every day, and we spend a lot of our time helping customers choose beach reads, so at least somebody has confidence in the weather!

I love being able to keep the windows open, but there are drawbacks. My neighbor, whose yard is about 200 yards away, has outdoor speakers. My neighbor also, it seems, owns only one CD -- Elton John's Greatest Hits. To top it off, my neighbor really loves to listen to tunes by the pool, because sometimes Elton John may as well be in my living room, well into the late evening. I tune it out and laugh it off most of the time, and at least I don't have to listen to it every day, but every once in a while "Benny and the Jets" sends me right over the edge. And the other day I found myself humming "Candle in the Wind" in the car on the way to work -- not a good sign!

~:~

Yesterday I had one of those little conversations about myself with a dear customer. I haven't seen her in a long time, since she and her husband moved away a couple of years ago. As we chatted she said, "I have a wish for you. I wish you 44 years of good health and happiness. That's how long I've been a breast cancer survivor."

Now, isn't that just the best wish?

Somewhat random, with heart

The other morning I was making my favorite iced coffee, just casually pouring the coffee into the frothed milk (I like to make the milk frothy, and I have one of those little gizmos that does it), and look what happened! A glass of caffeinated love! A barrista moment! I couldn't do it again if I tried.

I'm making good progress on my Boxleaf shawl, but a new photo would look just like the one I posted before. I don't know how many stitches I have on the needles at this point, or how many I'll end up with, but boy, those rows are getting long. I used to be able to do an entire ten-row repeat in one sitting, but not any longer. I have to remember to mark my place, but it's also pretty easy to find my place if I lose it. I'm going to knit until I get close to running out of yarn, and 500 yards will make a nice shawl.

I'd like to be almost finished with the shawl in time to start the Knitter's Review knitalong for Amy's Hedgerow Mitts, which starts on June 15. The pattern is based on my socks, and I love it. Amy and I talked about it last year, Clara loved the idea and encouraged her to do it, and the pattern made its debut on May 28. I'm thrilled for Amy, and I can't wait to get started on my first pair! They'll be in a beautiful red shade of Alexandra from Spirit Trail Fiberworks.

Though I've settled into my skin a bit more since my last post, I'm still finding new ways to think about my life with cancer. It's summer at the bookstore, so a day doesn't go by without my seeing someone I haven't seen in months, or even a year. It's not easy, but I'm getting used to having small conversations about myself with people who are sweet and kind and concerned. I'm not used to sharing much more than book recommendations with my customers, so I'm developing ways to share a little bit of my experience to reassure these lovely people -- yes, I have been sick, but yes, I am on my way to being well. Thank goodness I've practiced here!

Annabelle had the best idea for this sunny, breezy Sunday -- a nice nap in the window, and a bit of a bath. Now, however, she would like her supper. I can't turn her down. Besides, she won't let me forget what time it is!


Have a wonderful week, everyone. Thank you for coming here, and thank you for all your kind, interesting, and uplifting comments and emails. I don't know if I'd be traveling forward (or upright, for that matter) if I were on this road all by myself.

~:~
Today, June 7, is National Cancer Survivors Day. I guess that includes me!
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Pebbles, Thoughts

One year ago this week I learned that I had cancer. This is the week my life changed, and I became a new Jane, with the old Jane by her side, but new nonetheless. Because I’m pretty good-natured in general I think I’ve been able to think positively for most of this year. I haven’t been depressed. I’ve been afraid -- I still am, a little -- and I’ve been worn out, but I haven’t fallen too far into the black pit, never so far that I couldn’t haul myself out.

I could make lists of what I’ve been through, and what I’ve learned. I could go over every awful event and milestone, one by one. But when I look back at the whole year, I see my strength and power, along with the open mind and heart it took to temper all the hard things. That’s what I’ve learned -- that my openness and willingness, and my choice to see the experience as powerful, have really made a difference in my recovery. I took on some very big things, and here I am writing about it.


So I guess cancer is my friend, my very dark friend. It’s given me many gifts, even as it has taken so much from me. Though I don't want it in my life, I’ve come to depend on it, in a strange way. It's been the reason for so many things, for this entire year of things. It's caused me to have a new life, a new normal, a new reality. The new reality includes cancer. Whether it’s here or it’s gone -- doesn’t matter. It's part of me, and it changed everything.

A year ago, when I was diagnosed, and I was about to have surgery, I didn’t yet know what it meant to have cancer. It was big, but it didn’t have a shape yet. The fear that I felt made me do things like become efficient, set my house in order, and buy nightgowns. I was determined to be prepared for anything. Later, as time passed and I needed more treatment, cancer settled into my life to stay. I began to understand it, and then accept it. That’s when it became my dark friend, I suppose.


I’m not sure what the next year will bring. I hope it will bring more joy, and peace of mind, and less time spent worrying about cancer. I hope I’ll keep all the best things I found in myself safe and sound. I hope my bags won’t be burdensome, because until I really believe that I’m not in danger, I can’t put them down.


Yes, that's right -- this is knitting! I have been knitting again. It's Anne Hanson's Boxleaf Shawl in Sundara's Fingering Silky Merino. It was the project I had to shake the dust off of. After that, how could I not pick it up and keep going?


The color is called "Beach Pebbles" and I think it looks a lot like the picture of pebbles in the bay that I took the other day. I'm content to poke along on this project -- it's fun and the rhythm of the repeats makes me happy -- but I have begun to feel the familiar twinges that signal startitis. Should I treat them, or ignore them?

My Mt. Everest

Three months is a long time. A long time in any life, practically a season, and a long time to be away from this space. I didn't really go anywhere, but I feel like I've been on a long journey.

Just after I posted the last time, I was told that I needed more chemotherapy. Three more rounds, to see if we could improve the results. That I needed the extra treatments at all was hard news -- hadn't I already done everything humanly possible? -- but the treatments themselves seemed to take everything out of me. I thought I'd gotten away without experiencing really severe fatigue, but there I was, having to go back to bed after doing something as simple as making a cup of tea. I went to work, barely, and the stairs up to my apartment became my one goal for the day -- could I climb Mt. Everest one more time?

But look, here I am, living to tell the tale. I did it. I got the good news about my latest scans on my birthday, and I celebrated by going to the ocean. I had to stay up on the dune because the sand was just too soft to navigate, but I went there, and I had a good cry and a nice time.


I've been told that I'm brave and strong, and I suppose I might be. But every person who does this, this chemotherapy and cancer treatment, is extraordinary. It’s done quietly, somewhere, every day, by brave people who want to live. I am honored to be in such good company!

~:~

My knitting has suffered quite a bit these past few months. It seems that I did get a burst of energy at one point, because I spun up some Foxfire Cormo/Silk roving.


I cast on this little scarf in the middle of March, and worked on it while I was being pumped with toxic chemicals. Before long I had a nice warm springtime scarf, which I wore a lot, since our spring is notoriously slow to show herself.


Other than this one little bit, no knitting has been seen in my hands for a long time. I'm still surrounded by it -- just the other day I shook the dust off the beginnings of a nice shawl -- but I haven't been inspired to knit. I think that will change soon. My energy is returning, slowly but steadily, and my brain is clearing, along with the blurry vision that was a temporary side effect of one of the chemo drugs.

I'm sure I'll get back to knitting before long -- and back to many other things, as well!

7:30pm Edited to add: I just got home from my b'day dinner at Judy's house, where what we were really celebrating was that I can look forward to more birthdays. I think it's beginning to sink in...