Christmas comes, Christmas goes

I love to decorate my Christmas tree. I have lots of ornaments, both old and not so old, but my tree is usually so small that I need to be very choosy. I start with the shiny ones, from the box that my mother labeled "Tiny Shiny." Then I move on to the sentimental ones, the bells, and the little sheep. Snow people populate the space underneath. It just makes me happy to perform this small ritual each year, especially when I don't feel like it, or think I don't have time for it. This year I got the tree in time to decorate it during the Blizzard of Ought-Nine.


Here's Main Street in Southampton on the morning after the snow, which shut everything down, including the bookstore. The Village crews had just begun to clear the street and sidewalk, and within about 45 minutes there were parking spaces and walkways so that business could get underway. Good thing, because I was in a knot over having to be closed for even one precious holiday shopping day!

I moved through the week on auto-pilot, seeming to survive on what I could find in the fridge and the cookies given to us by our customers (not entirely, but I did begin to notice that few of my meals contained actual vegetables). Then it was Christmas Eve, which flew by in a blur (I think it might be a good thing that I blocked most of it out), and all of a sudden it was Christmas!


This is one of the gifts I opened in the morning -- a beautiful pillow made by my sister Sarah. She's been trying to figure out how to use some of the yards and yards of old lace trim that our mother had saved over the years. Some of it is really old, probably saved by her mother. This is a wonderful example of the quilting and sewing that my sister does, and I'm so happy to have another piece of her work, especially one that means so much to all of us.

I spent the rest of the day at Judy's house, enjoying Christmas with Judy, Ray, Michael, Rebecca, Rachel, and Louise. We had fun, ate not quite but almost too much, played with our new stuff (a GPS for me from Judy and Ray -- what a treat!), and enjoyed a pretty peaceful day.

Now that the holiday is over, and my knitted gifts have been received, I can post pictures of what I've been knitting. This is a Lacy Baktus scarf for my sister Ellen, made with String Theory's Nano superwash merino...


... and this is the One-Skein Shawl I made for my mom with some acrylic yarn (sorry, I don't know what it is) because it will have to be washed and dried in a machine. She loves it.


I'm still knitting the second of a pair of Hedgerow Mitts for Judy. When I finish it I'll post a photo. The yarn is the beautiful Sunna from Spirit Trail, a new blend of merino, cashmere, and silk. It's delicious.

And speaking of delicious, here's a picture of my lunch (especially for Clara). Peanut butter and cherry jam on two challah clouds. Don't worry, I'm having vegetables for dinner!

Cloudy, salty, sweet sixteen

We didn't get snow today, but it rained enough to make the day look like this -- dark. It was a good day to knit, though!

I'm working on a few Christmas gifts, so I can't show you anything I'm doing, but it's all wonderful. I'm still in post-Retreat knitting bliss mode. I have so many ideas and plans for 2010... The other day I looked into the bottom of one of the many bags I brought home with me, and what do you know, there are four skeins of Foxfire Fiber Cormo Alpaca Lace in there! I can't wait to sink my needles into it! I have two colors, natural brown and a lovely lavender. I know I'll find the right pattern for one or both, but first I need some free time.

Time is a precious commodity at this time of year. I seem to spend most of mine on work, thinking about work, or resting up to go to work. It's a short holiday season, so frenzy is the best way to describe it. I had to update the bookstore blog today, which is something I enjoy, but haven't had the time to really make it what we want it to become. Working on it on my day off is not my first choice, but at least it's done for now. One of these days it will be something I'm really proud of!

I'm actually enjoying the idea of Christmas this year -- unlike last year, when I crawled through it and the surrounding months. I'm looking forward to my annual shopping trip with Judy and the Remarkable R's, which we're going to squeeze in this Sunday. Today is the girls' sixteenth birthday (!!!), and there's a party on Saturday to celebrate it, along with the birthday of Judy's Wonderful Ray. It's going to be a busy weekend!

Now that my day off is almost over, I think I'll spend the evening working on something special, and thinking about making a batch of salty-sweet pecans. All I need is the recipe, which is in a book at work. If they're as good as they look, I'll let you know!

Perspective

Calm waters at last... It's been weeks since I had a moment to be quiet, but today is the day. I'm catching up on all sorts of things, resting, knitting, and enjoying some time at home.

The Knitter's Review Retreat was -- there are no words for how wonderful it was! I drove up on Wednesday afternoon with a car full of yarn and my spinning wheel and what felt like my entire house. By the time the rest of the knitters began to arrive on Thursday I'd settled in nicely.

[For a better description of the weekend than I could ever give, read Minh's wonderful three-part blog series. I failed in the photography department, too (not one picture!), but Minh also happens to have taken lots and lots of great pictures.]

My friend and roommate Kristopher arrived very late on Thursday, after working all day and driving for something like eight hours. We hadn't seen each other since last year, so we were looking forward to catching up in person (yarny phone calls just aren't as satisfying as yarny face-to-face conversations). The entire weekend was filled with yarniness -- all my senses were overloaded with yarn, knitters, good food, laughter, friendship, generosity, and fun!

I found myself thinking about my year -- a lot. Last year at the Retreat, I was just about to enter that long, dark winter of chemo and sickness, but I didn't really know it. This year, from the other side, I looked back with a lot of perspective. Surrounded again by all the people who kept me going, and able to (I hope) tell them how much they mean to me, I was happy and nostalgic and teary for most of the weekend. I saw myself differently -- through the eyes of my lovely, caring knitting friends -- not just as a survivor, but as having thrived, too. It's hard to explain, but I love this Jane, from her new hair down to her annoyingly-numb toes.

I started a simple New Beginnings project this year, since last year was the first time I didn't finish what I started on Sunday morning. It was a lace scarf with a provisional cast-on and charts, and apparently, not meant to be. So this time I brought out a skein of merino-alpaca, a beautiful limited edition yarn from Chris at Briar Rose Fibers in greens and blues and browns. I cast on a few stitches on US 10 needles, and began Clara's One Skein Shawl from Knitter's Review. I added some lacey rows, but it's mostly garter stitch, so it's chunky and warm, and above all, easy.


Just what my tired self needs. I'll probably finish it this afternoon.


So the Retreat is over, and Thanksgiving has come and gone, too. I had a great day with Judy and her family -- and I would have stayed longer if I didn't need to be ready for the big weekend at work. Black Friday passed quickly, as it always does, and Saturday was busier than Friday. For the next few weeks my head will be spinning, and then it will be 2010, and I'll get to relax a little. At least I have a goal!

Get on with it

So much to do, so little time -- or so it seems. I've been knitting away on all sorts of things, mostly from the Pile of Unfinished Knitting, but I did stop and make a Sweet Fern hat to match my Sweet Fern mitts. I love how the set turned out! There might even be a scarf's worth of yarn left over. A small, narrow scarf, but that would do.

I made the hat by spacing five of the cables around the brim, knitting them upside down. Then I turned at the end of a round and knit back in the other direction, so the cables would be on the outside when the brim is folded up. It's hard to explain, but once you do it, it makes sense. The yarn is Riihivilla Aarni, dyed with Indigo.

The other night I pulled out my Whimsy Lace Scarf, which has been weeping softly from the bottom of the knitting basket. I haven't worked on it since February, when chemotherapy finally took any remaining ability to concentrate or count. It's such a nice scarf, and beautiful yarn. It holds a lot of sad energy, though, and there are even places in the knitting that show my distraction. I've decided to give it only happy attention from now on, and the sad bits will fade.

My Levi socks have also come out of the bag again. I'm on the cuff of the second sock, and I'll cart it around with me for the next little while. I'll be wearing the pair before long.

I spent most of Sunday sorting and straightening my closet, and that pleases me. I needed to get into the bins of yarn so I could pick things to bring to the Stash Lounge at the KR Retreat next week. I ended up with two big bags of nice yarn, including all the Elann solid colored sock yarn I got a few years ago. I haven't used a bit of it. There's also a sweater's worth of Elann Peruvian worsted. I'm sure they'll find new homes with happy knitters!

I also dove into the bag of Sundara yarns, but all I did there was marvel and ponder and swoon, as usual, and decide that my next socks must be Brambleberry. Or maybe Through the Woods, or Pie in the Pantry. Oh, I don't know!

I did have a good idea, though. As I was looking through the mountains of sock yarn, I set aside any skeins that would look good as a plain pair of socks. Now, when I get the urge to start something new, I can reach in the bag and grab a no-brainer yarn for a pair of no-brainer socks. Wait -- where did I put that bag, anyway?

I have to keep looking ahead now -- the Retreat is in a week, and I have lots to do and sort and plan. My car is all clean, has a new battery, and is ready to go. The yarn is bagged, and I've begun to decide what to pack. It's even time to start checking the weather report for Williamstown, MA. I'm excited about getting away for a few days, especially because I'll be spending time with some of my favorite people in the whole world -- my knitting peeps!

Goodness

Blocked and waiting for Annabelle's final inspection -- the Cedar Falling Waters shawl. It's still pinned out on the floor this morning, and I'll leave it there until I get home from work. It's probably dry, but I know me; once I unpin it I'll have to look at it, then put it on, then play with it ...but it's Monday, and I need to get to work. The light was so poor yesterday that the photo can't show how shimmery the purl bumps are, or how the tilting things wave across the surface. And the colors -- they are so cedar-y!

While I watched the shawl dry I finished a pair of Sweet Fern mitts from The Knitter's Book of Wool. I was knitting along on the second one, happily making the thumb increases, la-de-da hooray for me, when I realized I was making a second right-hand mitt. Oh well. When I posted about it on Facebook, I was pleased to learn that it happens to the best knitters sometimes! The yarn is Aarni from Riihivilla, a yarn which my friend Kris forced me to order. Its base is a blend of natural colors, and it's dyed with indigo, so it's a very interesting yarn. I popped the pair into a bath last night and they're still drying, so I'll try to get photos during the week. I also blocked two of the hats I made. I'm on a roll, it seems!

It might be that I'm gearing up for the Knitter's Review Retreat, which is happening in just a few weeks. I have lots to do in the stash before I leave -- there are many bags to sort so I can bring things to swap in the Stash Lounge, and I have to decide what I'm going to knit while I'm there, and I want to choose a yarn and project to start on Sunday morning.

It also might be that I had very good news last week. I'd been dreading my second three-month checkup with Dr. Pearl. Last time there was still some concern about my blood work, so we were being watchful and waiting to see how it would be this time. Well, it was the best it's ever been. So normal that it's crazy-normal. The three of us -- me, Dr. P. and Nurse Sylvia -- were thrilled! I feel like I've been doing things right (as in getting healthier), and I can keep going without all the worry. I'm so very grateful to be in the care of this wonderful doctor and nurse, and I'm also very proud of what I've done.

Oh, and I got my first haircut the other day!

Well spent

Sometimes, like today, I find myself nearing the end of a Sunday and I realize that I didn't set foot out the door. I didn't go anywhere, or breathe the autumn air, or visit anyone. But I had just the day I needed, and I spent it on myself.

The week's stresses and small anxieties had to be processed. My body needed rest, especially after last weekend's Rhinebeckathon.* There was a cat to tend, and laundry to do. There were corn muffins to make, and phone calls with friends to be had. There was tea, and an apple, and peanut butter on celery.

Most of all, there was knitting. I have only 50 rows -- just 5000 stitches -- left to knit on my Cedar Falling Waters shawl, and I finished a third Hill Country hat.



There's nothing else I would rather have done today. I think I'm ready for the week to come.




*Rhinebeck was cold, happy, tiring, fun, wet, and satisfying. I'd go back again right this minute, if I could.

Road trip

It's time to pull out the little overnight bag, pack up the knitting projects, and choose some warm wooly things to wear to Rhinebeck. This year, rain gear is a necessity as well, unless the weather report changes soon. Judy and the R's are due at my house at around 4:00 this afternoon, so I have lots to do between now and then. There's the matter of that pesky work day, too; I have to fit that in somewhere.

We're all excited, as usual. The road trip, the laughter, the Eveready Diner for breakfast. The wool and sheep and alpacas and llamas -- oh my. The too-short visits with dear, dear friends, and the possibility of meeting up with treasured blog-friends. The surprises that could await us around any corner or down any aisle. Rhinebeck -- there's nothing like it!

I won't be taking this warm hat with me this weekend because it's bound for the donation table at the Knitter's Review Retreat in November. It's the Hill Country Hat from The Knitter's Book of Wool, designed by Clara Parkes. She's offered it to all of us in this week's Knitter's Review newsletter. It took me just a few hours to knit, and I used Rowan Purelife Organic Sheep Breeds Chunky in Shetland Moorit. I think I'll make two or three more!

I'd better get going, or I'll be late before I'm ready. Thank you all for your comments about the shawl, and for taking the journey with me.

Falling Waters

At last! I've been waiting for so long! Clara's Parkes' Knitter's Book of Wool has finally arrived. It's beautiful. It's filled with everything Clara knows and loves about wool, indispensable gifts to all of us knitters. And right there on page 168 is my very own contribution, the Falling Waters Shawl.

I'm so many things right now -- happy, relieved, honored, sentimental, and proud. I began designing this piece at the beginning of 2008, and I finished knitting it in May, just as I was about to learn that something was really wrong with me. There were tests, feverish knitting, more tests, and more knitting. The shawl was a lifeline all through the designing and knitting. I felt so powerful, so full of a creative force, and so much myself as I worked on it, even as I got closer to knowing that I had cancer.


I sent it off to Clara with joy, tempered by hope that it really was something that could find a place in her book, and not just a mess of tilting things. I loved the tilting blocks, but I also loved their balance, and the overall symmetry of the shawl. I think I needed to find some of that somewhere just then, because all I could feel was the frightening tilting of my own life.

Now, more than a year later, I'm able to look over my shoulder at the long road behind me. The dreadful mountains and dark valleys, the few soft grassy places -- everything, all of it, bordered by the sweet river of that blue shawl.


It occurred to me that I needed a Falling Waters of my own, so I began this one a couple of weeks ago. I'm almost finished now, and I'm deep into the rhythm of the knitting. I'm soothed again, just as I was when I knit the first shawl. I'm finishing the journey. And it turns out that yes, I think I can tilt and yet remain balanced, in knitting and in life.

All there is

I'm knitting all the time. I think about it while I am at work. I want to knit the minute I wake up in the morning. In the evening I knit until my thumbs ache and my eyes sting. I have not stopped knitting -- either in reality, or just in my head -- since I began this project on Thursday. For the time being, you'll have to wonder what it is, but I suppose it's clear that it means a great deal to me, and that I'm in love with it. The yarn is "Cedar" Merino DK from String Theory. There is more to it than what this picture shows -- it really does look like a whole cedar tree.



This is the sock I abandoned on Thursday afternoon when the String Theory yarn arrived. It's a wonderful sock, simple and oh so soft. The yarn is Kitchen Sink Dyeworks' Luxe Merino Fine in "Levi." It's merino, cashmere and nylon. Mmmmmm. It is delicious... but it will have to wait.

Even sitting here to write this is hard. The knitting is calling to me from across the room. Of course there's more to life than knitting, but not today. I'm completely content forming the knits and purls, the yarn-overs and the K2togethers, and watching the colors dance across the fabric as I knit. Every stitch is a step in a journey.

Sleepy Sunday

It's been a long time since I've had an actual social life. I began to be able to count the times I did something just for fun out in the world (and I'm talking within about a ten-mile radius) on half of one hand. What I had was a life centered around and dependent upon my health (either my treatment schedule or my level of fatigue dictated all). All that is beginning to change.

After work yesterday I headed over to Judy's house to help celebrate her mother's 95th birthday. Yes, 95th. I love Louise like another mother, so this was a real family event. The Remarkable R's spent a good deal of time petting my new hair ("It's so soft! Like a puppy!"), and we all had a grand time talking and enjoying a good meal and watching Louise take it all in. By the time I got home I was done in, though. Boy, was I happy to turn out the lights.

This evening I'm heading back to Sag Harbor to celebrate my friend Sarah's birthday, but I'm ready for this one. I took a nap this afternoon!

It's been a perfect early fall day -- cool, breezy, nap-inducing. I did the laundry, got the grocery delivery, did the dishes, and knit a little on the second half of the second Rosy Hedgerow sock. I'd be finished by now, but at knitting group the other day I discovered that the heel was about four rows too shallow. Bah.

I'm pondering this new worldliness of mine. I'm pondering a lot these days. So many little things mean so much -- hurrying to cross the street (I can do it!), staying up past 9:00 (woo-hoo!), having the energy to spend time with the people I love (priceless).

Speaking of which, I'll be late if I don't get up from the computer right now.

Progress

I'm having such a good time knitting this Hedgerow that I think I'll finish it by tonight. I know the pattern by heart, so the knitting is easy and straightforward. I think I'll use the round toe this time. Then it's on to the second sock, and who knows, I might finish the pair this week.


Earlier in the summer I discovered that my Hedgerow Sock pattern had been chosen to be included in the Sock Museum's Iconic Socks Collection. What an honor! I only wish I could have knitted the pair that is on display, but I'm really pleased that we -- me and Knitter's Review -- are represented.

It's been rainy for the past few days, but by noon today the sun was out and a nice breeze began to make the humidity level drop. There are crickets in the grass, and the neighborhood is quiet, as if there's no one home. Just a week ago there was traffic and the sounds of lots of activity, but now all I hear is an occasional car, or a door closing, or a dog barking. It's nice.

I've been hearing an interesting bird call at night lately, and until this week I didn't know what it was. It's a soft, mournful call from up in the trees, almost like a far-off whinny. I googled around and found out that it's an Eastern Screech Owl. Now I have a way to thank him when he stops by my house in the evening -- I have always loved that sound (and there's nothing very "screechy" about it).

~:~:~:~

I know a crazy knitter who wants to go to Antarctica. Eva is her name, and she blogs at Out of Yarn. The trip is sponsored by Quark Expeditions, which is looking for an Official Blogger. She should get to go, and we can help her by voting for her here.There's information about the trip and Eva's interest in it in her September 8 post. So go vote!

A sock toe is calling me, and I think I'll listen to it. It's been a good day off!

It's me again

"New" knitting
I decided what to knit next -- but it's not all that new, and it's not for me. I cast on a pair of Hedgerow socks for Cindy, the wonderful massage therapist who has been treating me for an annoying condition called lymphedema. It's not uncommon in cancer patients whose lymph nodes were removed or damaged during treatment. Thank goodness the treatment is non-invasive, and thank goodness that I found a skilled therapist who really knows her stuff. She deserves some comfy socks, don't you think?

Anyway, the yarn is (surprise!) Sundara Sock in one of her earlier colors called Terracotta over Rose. In person it's a little less pink, and not so bright. I think I'll work on them at knitting group, which resumes tomorrow after a summer break. I haven't been since last year, so I'm looking forward to it. If I can't get away from work a little early, I'll be sad.


Another passage
I'm really liking my hair. As soon as I had enough to cover my head I stopped wearing a scarf. I felt awfully bold on that first Saturday back in July! Now that it's getting fuller and longer, I don't feel like a cancer patient any more; I feel like a woman with really short hair. And I feel like Me. It will be fun to experiment with hair styles without fear, since I'm starting from scratch, and I think I'll keep it short for a while.

So far so good
Now that I've been on Facebook for a few days and it's become another room in my internet house, it's not so daunting. I've managed to resist an invitation from one of the Remarkable R's to join her in Farmville, and I got my sister Sarah to join the rest of the family (my brothers are the next to be recruited). My friend Judy has become friends with my friend Reya, which is a giggle and makes me reconsider the whole six degrees of separation thing, which I suppose is what Facebook is really all about. So it's all good, especially since it is inspiring me to write more.

Catching up

Endings and beginnings
Summer is almost over, at last. At long last. The days feel different -- it's still dark when I wake up in the morning, and by late afternoon the light has that amber tinge that signals a change in the season. It's time for a shift, away from the hectic and hot days of summer, and towards my favorite time of year. It's also time to get back to knitting.

I've been so busy that I haven't had the energy to do much besides work and sleep. I picked up this forlorn sock the other day, and realized that I need to knit as much as I want to knit. My hands have missed it, and my brain has missed it, too. So I'm plugging away, a few rows at a time, and dreaming of knitting something new. What it will be, I don't know. But it has to be new. All the projects that are in various states of completion will have to wait. I need to start something.

Farewell, Portia
About a year ago, when cancer was where I lived, I had to have a chest port implanted so I could begin chemotherapy. A few weeks ago I had the procedure to remove it. I was surprised to find that I had mixed feelings about it -- Portia, as I called her, was never an easy one to get along with. She pulled, she ached, she malfunctioned at the worst possible moments (just as I was about to receive the Big Bad Adriamycin, not once but twice). She made herself a nuisance. But on the other hand, Portia was a means to a good outcome. She made it possible for me to receive the drugs more safely and with less discomfort than if they had had to be infused through a vein. She did her job, most of the time.

So when I was officially done with chemo, I lobbied Dr. Pearl. I wanted to be rid of Portia as soon as possible. When he agreed, finally, and the date was set, I was so happy! I couldn't wait -- but there was something else, too. Portia had helped save me, and what would I do without that little plastic do-dad to reassure me? To be honest, I was scared. Having a port meant I could be treated, and being treated meant I could be well. What if...? It wasn't until I caught a glimpse of her as the radiologist was tossing her away that I knew I didn't need her any more. Goodbye, my fickle friend, and thank you.

Techno-grip
I joined Facebook today. Or rather, I joined and ducked for cover. It was a whim, indulged with a few clicks. What was I thinking? That I was missing something? That I need to be so casually connected with the whole world? That I will be willing to spend even more time tweaking and arranging yet another version of my public self? Yes, yes, and yes. Oh, well. Someone please tell me it will be fun.

Literary pursuits
At least I have been reading (it's part of my job, after all). Four books have had my attention in the past few weeks. Sweeping Up Glass by Carolyn Wall is a well-told story about a woman who tends to take care of everyone. There's a bit of a dramatic story there, too, but I liked the book because I liked the character.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson is so wildly popular that I felt obliged to read it. I don't do suspense/thriller/mystery much; I want memorable words and characters, and this genre is usually heavy on plot and light on character development. But this time, the Girl pulled me in. She's fascinating, and I so wanted to see where she was heading that I read the book in just a few days. It's not for everyone, so don't think you have to read it just because everyone tells you it's fabulous. Reading is supposed to be pleasurable, after all.

Await your Reply by Dan Chaon is just brilliant. Are we who we think or say we are, and do we get to decide? I've never read anything like this book, and I don't want to do it an injustice by trying to tell you more about it.

The book I'm just finishing now is Strength in What Remains by Tracy Kidder. It's a true story about a man who escaped the genocide in Burundi and Rwanda and made his way to New York, eventually becoming a doctor. I spent so much of the past year becoming aware of and testing my capabilities that I came to this story with what I thought was a little bit of understanding. I'll never know though, what it takes to simply survive through the night, what just being really means. I'm a piker.

On with it, then
The Internets are calling. There's this thing called a wall, and one of my nieces just friended me, and I think I'm supposed to think of things to actually write on the wall. Right?

I'm swimming along

And I jumped in with both feet! I added another day to my work week right before the 4th of July holiday, bringing me back to a full-time schedule just in time for the onset of the summer madness. I'm so happy to be able to say I'm really "back" but the trade-off is that I need a lot more rest than before, in the old days before cancer.

An aside -- a few weeks ago I asked Dr. Pearl's nurse (a rock if ever there was one) my burning question: what is this strange time called, this time after treatment, when life gets to/has to resume, when slow and steady recovery is the goal yet uncertainty seems to keep lurking in the corner? "It's called remission," she said. I waited until I got to the car to laugh and cry.

So what do I do each day? Go to work. Work hard, almost as hard as I used to. Come home and climb the stairs (which have been reduced to something more like the Appalachians than Mt. Everest). Eat something. Put my feet up. Watch a little TV, catch up on phone calls, knit if I can concentrate. Read for a few minutes in bed, then turn off the light after the book smacks me in the face because I've dozed off. Rinse and repeat! I have no complaints -- I'm so pleased that I'm able to do my whole job again, and I'm happy every single day that I can come home bone-tired for some reason other than illness.


Knitting has taken a bit of a back seat, but I am almost finished with the second Hedgerow Mitt, which in this photo is only a few inches along. I would have finished it already, but I noticed that before the hand decreases I got a little carried away, and knit too many rounds. I need to frog back so this mitt will match its mate.


I still haven't figured out how to take a good photo of such a red yarn, but I'll keep trying.

We've been lucky with our weather lately, so lucky that until the past few days it's felt more like April than July. Today has been another gorgeous day, and a good day to be able to stay home, recuperate from the week, and enjoy my pretty flowers (a nice surprise from my boss). By tomorrow morning I'll feel rested and ready to take on the pile of things on my list!

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!
~:~

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...

Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

My Hand

See how the past is not finished
here in the present
it is awake the whole time
never waiting
it is my hand now but not what I held
it is not my hand but what I held
it is what I remember
but it never seems quite the same
no one else remembers it
a house long gone into air
the flutter of tires over a brick road
cool light in a vanished bedroom
the flash of the oriole
between one life and another
the river a child watched

W. S. Merwin
The Shadow of Sirius

Thank you, Reya!

Back to knitting

Well. This sure has been interesting! Several things worth thinking about have emerged from my Blog of Note experience.

1. There really are levels and adjoining circles on the internet, and I suspect that most of us travel in pretty small circles, relatively speaking. I've been so used to a readership of mostly knitters that my new, wider circle is still a surprise.
   
2. Well-wishes and encouragement from total strangers, sometimes even delivered in a language I don't speak, are very nice. Very nice indeed.
   
3. I've never discouraged Anonymous comments, until now. I had to turn them off after I was bombarded with spam. Some people have too much time on their hands.
   
4. My advice to anyone who is named a Blog of Note? Take cover till it's mostly over, then read all the comments and enjoy the rest of the ride.

Now to the knitting. Here is my Whimsy Lace Scarf --



I haven't spent much time with it lately, but I plan to remedy that. It takes about 15 minutes to do a repeat, and I've memorized the procedure, so it's not that hard to make progress. The top portion, in garter stitch, forms the neck or collar. The ruffles cascade around the shoulders.


This is the leg of a sock. It's the tried-and-true no-brain-required Blueberry Waffle pattern, in Sundara's Deadly Nightshade (I think this is a Seasons Collection color). Pardon the cat hair. I'm almost halfway finished with the second sock, and I hope I can make some progress on it, too. One of the more annoying side effects of chemotherapy is neuropathy in my fingers. Lucky for me, mine isn't too bad (and it should go away), but it does slow me down!

My real problem with what I'm knitting is that I want to start a new pair of socks. I'm itching to cast on. I have delightful yarn that's waiting for me, but these two are just as delightful, and they're already on their way to being done. Can I resist, at least until I finish the socks? Probably not.

Our weather has finally improved a little -- the weekend has been sunny and not too cold, so my grey mood is gone. It was too windy to visit the bay yesterday. It would have been nice to get a closer look at all the ice chunks that have pushed up against the shoreline. They take such interesting shapes. I hope that February lets me get out into the world a little more!

I'll be back tomorrow with my poem for this year's (Silent) Poetry Reading. This is one of my all-time favorite blog events.

By the way, today is Pajama Day. I'm in!

Just who am I, anyway?

What a surprise, finding myself a Blogger Blog of Note today! I'm honored, but slightly uncomfortable. Yes, this is a public space, and yes, many anonymous readers stop by ... but somehow, anyway, right now, I feel a little exposed.

You see, I think of myself as a knitblogger. I'm part of a large and wonderful community of people who share my passion, and I'm blessed to have made many friends, both real and virtual, in this relatively small corner of the big old internet. But here, today, the doors have been flung wide open!

My blog and my life seem to be defined by what is going on right now -- cancer treatment and navigating the strange terrain of it, and getting on with it -- but when I seek to define myself cancer isn't at the top of the list.

So: I'm a knitter. I'm a spinner. I've made many pairs of socks, and whatever else that has inspired me. I love yarn. I design knitting patterns once in a while. I'm a bookseller, too. I live with that cat, in a little apartment near the Atlantic Ocean. I go to the water as often as I can, to refill and be and look out at the horizon. I'm a middle child. Sure, I have cancer. I also have a good life that's on the way to getting better.

There. I feel better now. Welcome everyone!

Little question

You'd think I could have nipped this little habit in the bud, but of course I failed. She knows who's in charge.

There is little question that I have been away from this space for too long. I want to do something about that. I miss it. Now that my world is about to open up again -- yes, I am finished with chemotherapy! -- I hope to find myself knitting more, and living life, and writing about it again.

I'm still processing what it means to have successfully navigated these past five and a half months. It will be a while before I do, and for now the good old slow and steady approach still serves. I feel cautious about everything -- but happy, definitely happy. I did it!

If only winter were not so relentless! I want sunshine! I want bright blue skies! Instead, it's been snowing this morning, and rain is on the way. There's been ice and snow on the ground forever, and the gray of the sky and the ground and everything in between doesn't help. I'm tired enough that I slog through each day anyway, and having to add a trudge over leftover snow in colorless light and landscape is just too much, don't you think?

I'm knitting away on little things, but nothing is worth showing yet. I started a Whimsy Lace Scarf just like Rosi's (because hers is an inspiration) with Hand Maiden Mini Maiden (just like Rosi) in "Paris." It's a wonderful pattern with lots of short rows, so it's fun to knit. I love the yarn, too. There are socks, of course. And I feel some mitts coming on.

There'll be time for all of it, but ...

... just now, I think Annabelle has the right idea!