So long, 2018

Well, that was really hard.

Not that I thought chemotherapy would be easy — every iota of evidence pointed to the contrary — but I guess I thought it would be different?
I thought it would be kind of predictable (which it wasn’t) and I thought I could keep myself entertained (which it couldn’t) and I thought I would come out of it lonely and sad and bitter.
But I didn’t.
Despite 2018 being the most difficult year of my life, I got through it. And that feels like a miracle.

2018 took a lot from me: my health, my focus, four of my five senior pets. It put a strain on my marriage and a hold on my career. It made me realize that I am both physically weaker and emotionally stronger than I’d ever imagined. It took me to damned near my breaking point.

And it’s finally over.

I had my last scheduled dose of chemotherapy on December 27th. I rang in the New Year with the hope that 2019 will be a year of healing. If 2018 broke me down, 2019 will build me back up.

I’ll get an idea of what the future has in store for me in about a month, after my next PET scan and (with any luck) a cancer-free declaration, and I’ll write more about my experience over the past six months at a later date, once I have the luxury of hindsight.

For now I’m just glad to be looking forward.

Summer News (June Edition)

Author’s Note: I wrote this as a draft at the end of June, but it’s taken me a bit to get up the courage/energy to post it here.

This summer’s going to be a bit of an odd one.

After nearly a year of doctor’s appointments and referrals, it became clear last week that the lump growing above my collarbone is Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Ugh. It’s stage one*, and the outlook is very good, but I’m nervous about starting Chemotherapy at the end of July and disappointed to have to take the rest of the summer off as the receptionist at the Veterinary Hospital. I mean, what the heck, bod.

The focus this quarter is to maintain my health as best as I can and to have patience with myself while my body heals. I’ve got a wonderful family and amazing friends to help me through this,  and while I’m sure there will be ups and downs I’m optimistic about the future.

In brighter news, we’ve adopted a new kitten!

We brought her home last Saturday and named her Lydia. She’s a scoundrel and a dear and we adore her already—a weird looking tuxedo with the sweetest mew. She loves to be around people. Grade A kitten. Would recommend.

I’m taking part in Camp NaNoWriMo again this July. I’ll be working on Coral & Bone, my queer-romance novel about a saboteur mermaid and the emotionally distraught whaler who falls in love with her. It was fun to dip my toes into the story this past spring and I’m really looking forward to spending more time with the characters I’ve made. I’m not used to writing romances, but it’s been a fun challenge so far. Also there are kelp forests and whale magic and bar fights and a pet octopus. It’s great stuff.

The veggie garden is looking great after a bit of a slow start. It’s been a spring of extremes—either very hot and dry or quite wet and cold—and while the plants didn’t appreciate the swings they seem to have forgiven and moved on. This spring, John built us a pair of rather cleverly designed raised beds with chicken wire cages on hinges, and it’s been enough to keep the deer and raccoons at bay. Time will tell with regards to bears.

Now, off to work on a novel!

*Whoops, turns out it’s stage II, but the prognosis is still good and we’re still aiming for a cure, it’s just likely going to take 6 months of treatment instead of 4. Bummer.

My Top 5 Fall (& Winter) Comforts

Fall is probably my favourite time of year, and in no small part because of how delightfully cozy it is. The nights are getting longer and cuddling up under a blanket looks more enticing each day beyond the equinox. Once the rain starts and that damp leaf mould perfume really takes hold, you can bet that I’m surrounding myself with all of my favourite cold-weather things.

Flannel

Flannel sheets, flannel shirts, flannel pyjamas, the flannel lining in my favourite down vest. Flannel is out in full force at my house. It is an immensely comforting fabric to live in, and it’s working wonders towards making this new house feel like home.

Wood

Though it be little, our wood-stove is mighty. As I write this, the little black box blazes nearby. The savoury smell of wood-smoke when I step outdoors. I can scavenge my own fuel from dead-fall, put handfuls of my forage on for kindling, and bask in its warmth. There’s a gentle snap and pull of air, as though a creature sleeps beside me, and I love it.

Wool

So much wool! With the cooler temperatures, knitting is comfortable again, and knitted things are the perfect weight to keep the chill off. On my needles this fall: socks, socks, new fingerless gloves for John, and more socks. On my body this winter: woolly boot socks, thick itchy pullovers, and woollen hats.

Coffee

I was strictly a tea drinker for a long time, but lately I’ve found that there’s nothing else quite as rich and decadent on a cool evening than a milky cup of dark roast coffee. The gentle curls of steam rising from the creamy surface. The heat of a heavy mug against my palm. The smokey flavour and intoxicating smell. I splurged a little this year and bought the more expensive stuff, and I have no regrets. The little bit extra for something that I love, and that centres me, was well worth it.

Vinyl

After a couple of months of not having access to my record collections during the summer move, putting on an album and leaning back for a listen is of particular comfort. Billie Holiday is getting a lot of play lately. Goes well with turning the lights down low and a hot cup of the above.

I hope you’re having a wonderful winter so far, and that you’re able to enjoy some of your own cold-weather comforts.

Happy New Year,

Syd

 

 

The First Full Day of Fall

As I write this, a cool wind is blowing the needles from the trees, and it definitely feels like fall; the days are getting shorter, the spice of leaf litter fills the air, and the rains are returning.

It was most assuredly summer when we arrived here—white hot days and a hot pink sun brought on by the surrounding wildfires. Smoke carried on the breeze. Clouds of dust puffed up wherever we walked. Wasps veered dozily on patios. It felt like cooler temperatures would never come to the Sunshine Coast.

But they’re here today, and I couldn’t be more pleased. The house is (mostly) unpacked, and we’re getting settled into fresh routines. My new job as veterinary hospital receptionist is going well. Things are looking good, and although there’s still time to be spent on the patio, I’m looking forward to the indoor-cosiness that winter will bring.

There are some elements to living here that are taking getting used to, primarily too many bears and not enough internet. Explornet will do for now, and online gaming will have to wait for a future with higher speeds. As for the former, I learned that black bears have a sour-fruit-and-shit kind of smell, and if the wind’s right you can smell them before you can see them. I’m hoping that they will eventually learn to steer clear of the yard and stick to the surrounding wood, and though It might take me a while to get comfortable sharing a backyard with a 600lb mama bear, I can’t complain. You can’t live in the forest and not expect to see wildlife, and there’s a bunch on the property: a family of raccoons that fish for bivalves off our dock, a pair of large (and lust-filled) owls that like to make-out with each other in the wee hours of the morning, and a pack of coyotes that sing songs in the swamp. A herd of elk frequent the area. It’s downright majestic.

And anyway, there’s nothing quite like falling asleep to crickets and waking up to loon song.

I can’t remember the last time I was so well-rested.

Please Stand By

These past two weeks have been filled with the smell of cardboard and the screech of a tape gun. 

The next seven days will be spent on the road, camping every night in a different place as we make the 4500 km journey to our new home.

It’s bittersweet, and exciting, and overwhelming, all at the same time.

More on the move (and the new place!) later, but for now please stand by.

7 Things I Learned While Downsizing My Stuff

For most of my life, I’ve identified as a packrat.

I was raised by packrats. For example: during my grandparent’s emigration from Bermuda in the 1970’s, my grandfather paid to ship 2 decades worth of National Geographic magazines and his collection hundreds of found glass bottles across the Atlantic. The boxes have never been opened.

With my own long-distance move looming, I decided to undertake the overwhelming task of reducing my belongings. It’s been exciting, and sometimes difficult, but most of all it’s been eye opening. Here’s what I’ve learned.

1) Approximately 1/3 of my stuff was useless to me.

It’s not a hard number, but roughly 30% of my belongings were easy candidates for rehoming or recycling. Whether it was my wardrobe, art supplies, DVDs or mugs, I was able to pretty consistently dump 30-50% of what was there without having to give it too much thought.

2) ‘Someday’ will probably never come.

There was so much stuff that I was keeping for someday: an ambiguous time in the future when I’ll be interested in making paper again, or need a feather boa,  or finally,watch that film that’s been sitting unopened on my shelf for half a decade. Sure, maybe one day I will take up embroidery again, but it’s been nearly ten years and my box of floss is just gathering dust. Some things in life are one-offs—and there’s no shame in trying a new hobby or buying a book you think you’ll read—but I’ve learned that if it’s been years since I last used something I probably won’t miss it once it’s gone. I’ve been patient with myself in learning this, as it’s probably been the hardest lesson to sink in. It’s helped to remind myself that by getting rid of a ‘someday’ item I’m allowing myself to rebuy it, guilt free, if ‘someday’ does, in fact, come along. In the meantime, I have more closet space.

3) Digital photography can be a stand-in for the real thing.

I’m super sentimental about objects, but if I wanted to keep everything that made me go ‘aw’ I would need a second home to store it all in. By taking a photo of the thing I can still look at the image of it and get misty, but it’s not cluttering my shelves or taking up space in a box downstairs.

4) Letting go is freeing.

There was a surprising amount of stuff in my home that made me feel bad: a memento tied to a bad memory, a gift from someone who treated me badly, or an object that was broken or damaged beyond repair. Letting go of these items felt like an actual weight was being lifted from my shoulders. My home is not a museum of bad memories. It is a place for me to live and enjoy my family and feel comfortable. Anything that hinders that can hit the kerb.
I also feel that by letting go of certain objects I’ve made more room for myself to grow. It’s a little like weeding a vegetable garden: the stuff I want to grow has more room to do so without the unwanted things taking up space and resources in the garden bed.

5) The emotional value of what I have kept has increased.

Keeping only the things that I love (or that are day-to-day useful) has made those things seem even more special. Ridding my home of the distraction of lukewarm (or worse: frigid) objects made the remaining stuff feel precious and actively chosen. What I have now is more akin to a curated museum exhibit of rare treasures than the rummage-sale-bin-hodge-podge of previous years.

6) I had spent an enormous amount of money on things I didn’t need.

And, you know what? That’s okay.
Not okay as in I would recommend it, but okay as in I forgive myself for having made that mistake and by admitting it was a mistake I have learned from it. Downsizing has taught me to reevaluate what I bring into my home. Lately, my spending has decreased, and the few things I have bought have felt right. I know myself better now, and that’s a big comfort.

7) Sharing the wealth feels good. 

There were so many items that were in great condition, just gathering dust in forgotten corners. Owning things I don’t use or appreciate always makes me feel guilty: someone else could be enjoying this instead of me sitting on it like a broody hen. Liberating old toys from boxes and novels from shelves gave me a distinctly good feeling, even if the items in question were sentimentally loaded. As it turned out, setting them free into the world to be used and enjoyed by someone else brought me more comfort than owning that thing myself.

8) I am not my things.

Possessions are nice—and sometimes necessary—but they don’t define me. A keepsake can be lovely, but ultimately the memory is more important than the object associated with that memory. Choosing to get rid of an object doesn’t negate the emotion tied to it, and it doesn’t take any part of me with it when it goes. If I lost everything in a fire tomorrow, I would still be fundamentally the same person, regardless of which possessions survived.

The lessons keep coming as I continue to pick through the objects that I’ve collected over the past 30 years, and the more belongings I shed the lighter I feel. I’m hardly surprised to find that there’s so much emotion tied up in the experience, but I’ve been pleased to find out that it’s a much more positive one than I’d anticipated. I’m excited to carry what I’ve learned into this next stage of my life, and while I’m certain there will always be a little place in my home for the purely sentimental,  packrattery is something I don’t mind letting go of.

Quarterly Goals: Spring 2017

Update on Last Quarter:

Winter was a bit of a toughie, but I did pretty well on my quarterly goals. There were a few slip ups, to be sure—I canned nothing, revised only one short story, and my blogging fell by the wayside when my mood disorder flared up—but I still ticked most of the boxes I set out to…. I had more game nights and watched more new films. I read 6 books. I learned three new recipes, one of which even earned a permanent home in my go-to collection. I wrote letters and short stories and holy hell I even finished a revision pass of my latest novel, Steep. I wrote every day, finishing the quarter with a total word count of 68,126.

2017’s theme is SIMPLIFY—and part of that means downsizing our possessions so that we (a) don’t’ have to pay to haul them across the country and (b) don’t have to pay to put them in storage once we get there and into our much-smaller home. With the big move happening next year, I’m particularly cognizant of just how much crap we have tucked into the nooks and crannies of our current home.  I ‘m a dyed-in-the-wool packrat, and getting rid of things can be painful, but I trounced my goal for getting rid of stuff. Not just 12, but 17 bags of clothing, yarn, and assorted items left my home and were donated, as well as two pieces of defunct furniture and a half dozen bags of papers to be recycled. Feels good.

This Quarter:

I’m keen to keep up my momentum on downsizing, and maybe even pick up the pace with the advent of open windows and longer days. Here’s what I want to accomplish this spring:

  • Write every day
  • Complete Camp NaNoWriMo
  • Watch 3 new films
  • Read 6 books
  • Print a new zine
  • Try 3 new recipes
  • Seed the front lawn
  • Knit a sweater
  • Giveaway or recycle 12 bags of stuff
  • Have 6 dedicated game nights with John
  • Write or revise 3 short stories

After clearing out a bunch of my yarn stash, my knitting slate is also clean. I’ve got a couple of patterns on my wishlist of things to make, and I’ve got a new Cobblestone Pullover planned for my needles this spring.

Writing every day has become easier, in part due to the Magic Spread Sheet. I’m also getting back into drawing and having fun doing it, and I’d love to take part in a couple of zine shows this summer and fall. It feels good to be stretching my creative muscles after a dull winter, and I foresee the next three months being full of new creative endeavours.

Here’s to spring, and to the fresh start it provides!