Just like today

Errands, Long Beach, housekeeping, knitting.

Just a typical day off, nothing special. Ho-hum.

I'd like all my days off to be days like today, please!

Random things that are rattling around in my head:

• Rhinebeck is just over three weeks away! Road trip with the girls!
• I have started doing some Christmas knitting and shopping, which is not at all like me.
• Yesterday's Ten on Tuesday was a wake-up call. What is sour milk doing taking up space in my fridge? And more important, why did I tell the world about it?
• There's a little house that I pass on my way to Sag Harbor that I have dreamed about living in since I moved here in 1993. It's tucked under the trees, right on Noyac Road. Why doesn't anyone live there? What is its story? Today I went as far as deciding that a few trees would need to come down so there would be more light inside. Edited to add: This is the house on Google Street View. Isn't it darling?
• Days off should last longer than 24 hours, especially if they are days like today.

Ten on Tuesday: Chilled

Ten Things in My Refrigerator Right Now:

1. Skim milk. I actually like skim milk.
2. Sour skim milk. I might like it, but I forget to drink it before the expiration date, and then I forget to throw it away.
3. Apples. I love this time of year, when the apples are fresh and sometimes even local.
4. Simply Limeade, which has become a staple in my fridge. One of these days I'll switch to something else, but right now it's all limeade all the time. I mix just a little into a glass of seltzer and I'm good.
5. Yogurt. Usually Greek style, but at the moment it's Stonyfield Farms Blueberry.
6. Leftover oven-roasted summer squash. It's tomorrow's dinner, over brown rice.
7. Extra-sharp cheddar cheese. Just a little, because otherwise I'd eat it all up!
8. Salad fixings: lettuce, tomatoes, vinaigrette, etc.
9. Half and half, just for my coffee.
10. Peanut butter. The natural kind that doesn't contain anything but ground peanuts.

All this food talk would make me hungry, but I just ate one of those apples.

Embracing opportunity

Summer's last flower

Time is flying! Summer ended this week, and I realized that I'm ready for a new start, a new season, new, new, new. Summer exhausts me, but Autumn energizes me. Time flies, but it is ripe for change, and (in my head, at least) I'm ready to embrace new things.

One thing I'm doing has until now been out of my comfort zone. At the gentle urging of one of my customers, I went to the monthly meeting of a new group — The Coalition for Women's Cancers at Southampton Hospital. It's a big name for a small but growing group of women who have or had or care about any cancers that affect women, not just breast cancer. I'm looking forward to being a part of this new community.

The CWC is having its first fundraiser this Thursday, and I've spent part of the weekend putting together some knitted things to donate to the raffle. A pair of Hedgerow socks, my Busy Bee and  Baktus scarves, and something I whipped up yesterday:

They're a pair of Maine Morning Mitts in some vintage Sundara Worsted (Briar Rose, picked up at the KR Retreat Stash Lounge a couple of years ago — thanks, Rosi!). Mitts always look so silly when they aren't filled with hands, don't they? Sort of like pantyhose without legs.

My monumental achievement for the weekend, though, was the finishing, washing, and blocking of my Arabian Nights sweater. To accomplish this I had to do two things that those who know my house and housekeeping "skills" will laugh at: wash all the dishes that were marinating in the sink so I could soak the sweater, and clear off my counter so I could arrange it there to dry. It's almost dry (I'm waiting on the sleeves) and then I can wear it and get somebody to take a picture and everything!

Summer's last waves

P. S. Our customer M, who I wrote about in February, died on September 10th. His wife told us that one of the last things he did was go to the beach, just a couple of days before he died. He'd been in the store many times during the summer, still reading, still exploring. I'll always remember our small, quiet conversations which helped me get through my own treatment, and I'm grateful to have shared a little of his journey with him. Rest well, Mike, and thank you.

Ten on Tuesday: Happy Birthday

Shadows one moment...

It's always somebody's birthday! In fact, this evening I'm heading over to Judy's house to help celebrate her mother's 96th birthday. Louise is my Other Mother, and I can't wait to give her a hug and a kiss, and the little box of rugalach I just picked up at the Blue Duck Bakery.

But ten ways to have a happy birthday? I tried, but I just can't improve on Carole's list. After all, it is her birthday today!

...and shadows the next.

Happy Birthday everyone, whenever it is!

Magic

Life is just a bowl of cherry tomatoes.

Two years ago this week I began chemotherapy, and this morning I had my sixth post-treatment checkup with Dr. Pearl. My exam and test results were so encouraging that we were both smiling, happy, laughing. We have done an excellent job.

I’m always anxious in the weeks leading up to each visit. First, about a week before my appointment, I must go in for my blood test. I have routines for this ten-minute non-event — small rituals, really — that I’m sure will make everything all right. They include predicting how low the number will go (this time I decided on 12, and I was spot on). Then I wait. Sometimes Fairy Godmother Nurse Sylvia has a chance to call me with the results before my appointment, sometimes not.

When the day arrives — always a Thursday — there are more routines and rituals. Leave at a certain time, wear my good-luck earrings, listen to happy music in the car, park in my favorite spot at the Cancer Center. If I practice this magic, then all will be well. Moment by moment, I settle in. Breathe deeply, relax while the blood pressure is being taken, get comfortable while I wait for Dr. Pearl.

All I am doing is preparing myself. I must be prepared. No matter how much time passes, no matter how well I feel or how good my blood test is, I must be prepared. I know the percentages for my case. I know what all the chances are, and what the time frame is, too. I’m not watching the calendar, but I'm aware of it. I understand my odds, and in order to thwart them, I must be prepared, and I must practice these small bits of magic.

What Dr. Pearl does is practice his own art. He is, I think, spectacularly capable of creating the treatment plan that will, along with my participation, make me healthy. I see him only every few months, but each time I do, I’m reminded of just how blessed I am to be in his care. His art and my magic are a powerful combination.

When the appointment is over, when he has congratulated me, and I have thanked him, I take my time getting dressed. I need time; I have time. I make my next appointment, and it will be in the future, and the nurse smiles, because I know she knows that I am thinking, “Wow, the future.”

The final ritual in this cycle isn’t magic, but it’s necessary. I go to my car, get in and close the door, and have a little cry. Then I give myself a pat on the back, and go forward.

Or maybe it's a loaf of cherry bread.

Ten on Tuesday: Summer's End

This week's ToT topic is "Ten Things to Do Before the End of Summer." For me, summer just ended. Labor Day weekend was it. Though on this half of the planet summer will last for a couple more weeks, my long, stressful season has passed. My thoughts are happily turning to the next one. Here's my list of some things I'd like to do:

1. Go to the ocean while the water and the sun are still warm. I can do that now that beach permits aren't needed and the crowds are gone. September is the best-kept secret about the East End of Long Island!
2. Clean. There are neglected corners in my apartment — at least four of them!
3. Sort the yarn stash. The Knitter's Review Retreat will be here before I know it, and I want to do a serious assessment of my yarn and fiber so I can take some worthy skeins to the Stash Lounge.
4. Take the big down comforter outside for some air while the days are still long enough, and before I need to get under it in a cold snap.
5. Once and for all, take the bags of unused clothes (that I sorted months ago!) to the donation drop-off.
6. Go out to dinner. At a restaurant. With other people. This is something I never have time to do in the summer, and all the restaurants are too crowded, anyway. I have a date with Judy and the R's this week, as a matter of fact!
7. Take the car to get an oil change and a check-up. It's time.
8. Speaking of check-ups, make an appointment for my annual mammogram. Have you had yours?
9. Relax and enjoy the turning of the season. I love the way fall arrives a little abruptly here. One day it will be warm and muggy, and the next it will be crisp and the leaves will have turned.
10. Open the sock drawer and see if there are any sad pairs that should be retired from the rotation. If there are, think about knitting more! — after all, the real name of the next season is Knitting Season!