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When I started this blog back in May 2009, it was part of an elaborate strategy I was designing, trying to “reassemble” the pieces of my life after completing chemo treatment for non-Hodgkins lymphoma.
Post-chemo . . . is a very weird place to be. Everyone thinks the end of chemo marks the end of a cancer journey. There are often balloons and celebrations, and then . . . everyone moves on. And, generally, everyone thinks you – the cancer survivor – should, too. And, sure. I won’t argue that the end of chemo IS an important milestone. But it’s just the end of treatment; not the end of a journey. Because that journey? Oh, it continues.
For me, finishing chemo was like suddenly being . . . untethered. During treatment, I’d been part of a system that was actively working to save my life, every day. My weeks were filled with treatments and blood work and scans and doctor appointments. Medical people were monitoring my every cell. Until, suddenly, they weren’t anymore. Too soon, it seemed, it was just me . . . completely on my own until my next check-up appointment. I felt very much alone, and I constantly wondered what would happen next? Did the chemo work well enough? Would the cancer come back?
I felt like I was living at . . . The Edge.
And I didn’t like it much.
Luckily, I found a book – Picking Up the Pieces: Moving Forward After Surviving Cancer by Sherri Magee and Kathy Scalzo – that was extremely helpful as I navigated my new life out there on The Edge. The book allowed me to find my footing again, and it provided tangible advice so I could move forward. I developed a plan for whatever might happen next; I came to think of it as my way of . . . stepping away from . . . The Edge.
And, as you can guess, that’s where the name of this blog came from. Part of my moving-forward plan included telling my story and sharing my experiences by blogging . . . here . . . at Stepping Away From the Edge.
But time unfolds, and the years (over 13 of them now, actually) keep rolling along. For quite a while, I’ve felt that I’ve probably . . . stepped away from The Edge enough at this point. I mean, I remain aware that The Edge is still there. (Spoiler alert: It’s always there. For all of us.) But I don’t feel like I’m doing so much . . . stepping away from it . . .these days.
In fact, these days I feel more comfortable . . . living . . . at The Edge.
So I decided it was time to move on again; to re-think how I’m living my life now, 13 (plus) years post-chemo. As part of my “revised strategy,” I thought about wrapping up this blog and just being “done” with it. Ultimately, though, I decided to continue blogging — just . . . differently. (A shift, I guess you could call it.) I created a new blog home, and I decided to give it a new name.
I guess you could say that while I am making a few changes (most of them cosmetic or “expansions”), it’s just my blogging intention that has shifted.
I don’t really need to step away from The Edge anymore.
I’m just dancing there!
I hope you’ll join me for this next segment of my journey . . .
This blog - Stepping Away From the Edge - will remain right here, right where it is. Just like always. You'll still be able to visit here, and you'll be able to read all the old posts here . . . if you want to. I decided I didn’t want to transfer all of my . . . history . . . to my new space when I moved. I really like the notion of starting fresh. But I’m keeping it all here, in storage. (Just in case. Y’know?)
In my garden - both indoors and out - I tend to do a lot of . . . Face Plants!
Not the kind of face plants where I fall on my face (although . . . that could happen . . . ). I'm talking about planters . . . with faces.
I've always been drawn to face plants, and I have many of them in my garden. I think they're charming and whimsical . . . and it's fun to maintain their "hairstyles" too.
A couple of weeks ago, I added two new face plants to my collectioon. They're pretty tiny, but packed with fun.
It looks like my "thing" with faces might be expanding, though. Because I also added this little creature to my menagerie. . .
I'm always looking for fun in my garden!
How about you? Do you "face plant" in your garden, too?
It's been a while since I've checked in with my knitting progress, so here's a bit of an update for you.
News Flash! I'm still working on squares for my blanket. I actually finished the 10 squares called for in the pattern a couple of weeks ago. I laid them all out, and it looked something like this . . .
(That JoJo. Always thinking I need to have a dog-for-scale in every knitting project photo I take.)
It's a nice little blanket. Small. Good for throwing over your lap on a chilly morning. Or displaying on a chair. It would make a perfect baby blanket.
But something about it makes my eye twitch.
Can you guess what?
It's the patterning of the overall blanket. The rows are arranged to show 3 squares - 2 squares - 3 squares - 2 squares. Which is fine. But from a design standpoint, my eyes expect to see the pattern finish with a row of 3 more squares. (Or start with 2 squares.) It's just . . . off. And I knew it would bug me.
So I decided to see if I could add 1 more row (either a 3-square row or a 2-square row) with the yarn I have. I knew I had plenty of yarn to make the colorful centers; it was the neutral border yarn that I was unsure of. So I got out my trusty scale, and started knitting.
Before starting any extra squares, I "finished" the blanket as designed (as much as possible) first. I added those "half squares" to the 2-square rows, for example. And I seamed the rows together. (That first photo above is after adding the "half squares" and seaming the rows.) I discovered it takes slightly less of the "border" yarn to knit 3 squares than 2 squares with the "half squares" - which makes sense.
Anyway. After knitting a bit and measuring now and again, I could see that I had enough yarn to add another row of 3 squares. And I wouldn't have to play "yarn chicken" to do it!
I took that photo above over the weekend, before we headed up north for the week. Since then, all squares are complete, and that last row is seamed. I'm putting it away now . . . until the weather calls for holding a whole blanket in my lap at once.
Which I guess means that . . . The Prodigal Son is going away again.
But only for awhile.
How about you? What are making these days?
Something to celebrate!
A project three years in the making . . .
And three weeks in the doing . . .
Is finally complete!
Why did it take so long? Well, I've already explained that the project met up with the pandemic in not-so-great ways -- staffing and scheduling delays, hard-to-get materials, and the doors being lost at sea on various container ships.
Then, once all the pieces were in place and the project started, well . . . our house is tricky. First, we needed to have a lot of the cedar siding replaced or repaired. Once the painters could actually get to work, they had to contend with fussy house details . . .
Like dentil molding all along the front of the house.
And generally tricky decorative details.
And then . . . there's the "north face" of the house. A daunting space that the painters saved for last.
It's hard to get a photo of this part of the house that can adequately show the perspective. But this side of the house has a walkout basement, and the peak rises about 45 feet up from the ground. And . . . it's situated on a significant slope. I really couldn't watch when they were going up and down those ladders, but Tom assures me it was impressive.
My favorite things?
The new front door . . .
The new light fixtures . . .
And having my patio back!
It feels good to have this project completed!
(Next up? Apparently we need a new roof . . . )
Sometimes, the very best thing is a little rest. Finding some breathing room. Enjoying a different view.
I hope you're enjoying a fine week.
I'll be back in a few days.
(Just a quick note to begin. One of the reasons I blog is to give myself a creative outlet. Ideas come to me. Sometimes they work out, and sometimes they don't. And sometimes they just . . . fade away over time. The "starting your engines" idea, as originally conceived, has lost its charm for me -- and if I can't inspire myself with an idea, I surely can't inspire anyone else with it. But I still like the concept . . . of starting the month by starting your engines. I just haven't quite figured out how yet. Please bear with me while I work that out.)
Welcome to August!
How we got here so quickly, I have no idea. But I'm sure it comes with age. Because summer lasted a million years when I was a kid, and now that I'm in my 60s, well . . . not so much. But. Here we are. August already.
Each year, at the beginning of summer, I think about all the things I want to do during the months ahead. Some years I actually write a list, but most years I just carry that list around in my head. My "summer stuff" list varies by year, and usually includes a real mishmash of things: "Eat ice cream cones regularly" and "Plant a tree" and "Clear out the linen closet."
My list generally changes by year, but one thing (well, two if you count the ice cream) shows up on every summer list I put together: "Watch a sunset over Lake Michigan."
And you know what? We never do it!
Oh, we get to Lake Michigan every year, at least once or twice. But we don't tend to stick around for the sunset! And it's one of those things that . . . never quite appeals once you're tucked in at home for the evening, with your glass of wine. And especially when you can watch some pretty amazing sunsets right there at home, from the comfort of your own front porch. (Plus . . . here in West Michigan, at the very western edge of the eastern time zone, our sunsets come very late.)
But last Saturday, we did it! Tom and I drove to South Haven (about 35 miles away) after dinner, and we settled into our beach chairs on a little sand dune and we watched the sun set over Lake Michigan.
It was such a beautiful evening. The weather was perfect. It was peaceful. And lovely.
I love living so close to The Lake. (If you've never seen the Great Lakes, well. It's much like being at the seashore . . . very coastal and all. Except the waves are wind-based, not tidal. And it's fresh water instead of salt water.) (Which tends to freak ocean-people out.) (And no matter which Great Lake you live near in Michigan, you refer to it as The Lake.)
So. Back to August 1.
When August hits, I always get a little bit (almost) panicky inside. August's arrival . . . means summer is nearly over. (Not really, these days, but I'm sure you get what I mean.) I'm never ready for it to end. And I want to make the most of every summer moment that remains, y'know?
So today, I encourage you to review your "summer list" -- the things you wanted to do this summer -- and pick something that's there, year in and year out. The thing that maybe you don't usually get around to doing.
And then . . . go do it!
Quick. Before summer is gone.
Trust me, you won't regret it!
"I could never in a hundred summers get tired of this."
--- Susan Branch
It's August, my friends.
Start Your Engines!
PS - I'm close - very close - to launching my newly designed blog. I may be posting less often over the next week or two while I work out all the kinks and put on the finishing touches. It's hard to both keep my "regular" blog schedule going AND design a new one, y'know? But please know I'm here. Working things out.
Did you see it?
July? Just flying by???
Today is my last July blogging day, so even though it seems July only just arrived, here I am, already recounting the . . . Best of My July.
This has been One Of Those Summers where scheduling concerns continue to keep me from being up north. Tom has gone up quite a lot. But me? Not so much! In all of July, I spent one chunk of days up there. With Brian and Lauren and their pup, Ferda. It was great fun -- and Ferda is finally getting the hang of swimming!
One of the best things of my July . . . is that the exterior work on our house has finally begun. (That's the main reason I haven't been able to head up north this month.) Of course, it looks like work will continue on into August at this point. But, hey. It's going to look great when it's finished. (The story I've been telling myself for three years now. . . ) I'm patient. But I've gone from this . . .
to this . . .
I'm really ready to have my patio back. Y'know? (I imagine that will be on my best of August list. Stay tuned.)
I got a haircut in July; my first since winter! It's so different now that I have long hair. I can go months between visits to the salon . . . AND my stylist can cut 3 inches off my hair and I barely notice.
My favorite plant spot has a spring "incentive" program . . . Bonus Bucks. When you buy plants in the spring, you get Bonus Bucks for every dollar you spend. And then - in July - you can come back and cash them in. I love Bonus Bucks! I cashed mine in last week . . .
And, as I've already mentioned, I set my "studio" back up in July. I've started painting again. (This is an underpainting I'm working on in my sketch book . . . eventually, it will be a rusty hinge on an old wooden door. If I remember, I'll show you the finished painting someday.)
Mostly, my July has been . . . very ordinary. Filled with hot-but-pleasant summer days and all those things I love about summer. Time in my garden. Ice cream cones. Beer on the patio. Lovely sunsets.
July . . . heck, the whole summer . . . is so very fleeting. It just flies by, doesn't it?
How about you? What was the best thing about your July?
"Sometimes all it takes is a tiny shift of perspective to see something in a totally new light." -- Dan Brown
From time to time I've blogged about negativity bias. Y'know . . . that terribly annoying little tendency we all have . . .where we focus on the negative stuff of our lives more than we do the positive stuff. Silly things people say to us. Unfortunate situations that happen in an ordinary day. Things we didn't get done. Somehow, those naggy little things hang with us so much easier than the good things that happen in our everyday lives.
I've been intentionally working to quell my own Voice of Negativity for a couple of years now. But, boy oh boy. It's hard to do! That negative bias? It's sticky!
This month's OLW prompt from Ali Edwards' OLW team is all about focusing on the little positives of life . . . instead of the negatives. I wrote a bit about it last week, when I shared the "small win" I was celebrating in my art "studio." Well. I actually took it a lot farther than that! I came up with a list of about 20 small wins that I could celebrate this month. Just . . . little things I did that I ordinarily wouldn't give myself a bit of credit for doing.
At first, it was really hard to come up with anything for my list. I couldn't think of one thing! But once I got started (y'know . . . once I shut up my Voice of Negativity -- the voice that kept saying you-wasted-the-whole-month-you-lazy-bum) it got easier.
And with my WiFi down, I decided to play around with some paper I had, and create a way to capture my small wins in my word journal.
I don't usually follow Ali's prompts. But this month? It made a lot of sense to me! Thinking about my wins . . . instead of my didn't-dos . . . was just the kind of SHIFT I'm looking for!
As I was going through this process, I realized that EACH of my small wins really represented a shift in my perspective.
- Instead of chastising myself about not maintaining a strict monthly cleaning schedule, for example, I captured this "small win": I cleaned the bathrooms when I didn't want to.
- Instead of feeling bad about all the weeds in my garden, I celebrated this instead: Hummingbirds love my flowers.
- Instead of wishing I'd made more progress on a big project, I celebrated this: I'm asking for help on a big project that is too much for me.
I'm sure you're getting the gist of things.
Focusing on my small wins - and celebrating them - is helping me SHIFT my perspective . . . from a negative bias to a positive one. I think I'm going to try this exercise every month. (Although not with paper craft . . . )
I highly recommend you give it a try, too! Instead of feeling bad about something you didn't do, SHIFT your perspective. And think of a small win you can celebrate instead.
There are certain things you just . . . take for granted in life. One of these things is enjoying privacy in your own home. And the other is WiFi. And right now? I've got neither of these things!
Oh, one of them -- the privacy thing -- is completely my own doing. And kinda funny, besides. Because my house painters? They're busy-busy-busy and swarming the house all day long. It is strange to walk into a 2nd floor room, though, and find . . . someone right there! Hard at work on the other side of the window.
It's not like we walk around naked all the time or anything, but we really do need to be on guard when it comes to painters popping up in our windows. This morning, for example, I decided to forego my usual meditation and yoga routine when I walked into the room and found this . . .
(That shadow there in the window? That's a painter.)
So having painters around every day kinda . . . cramps my style a bit. Especially in my bedroom -- and in the garden beds near the house. And although they are a very accomodating crew - and would get out of my way if I asked them to - I really don't want to impede their progress to, oh . . . say, lay out my afghan squares on the patio (in the good light) so I can take a photo for my blog, y'know?
So you get this instead. . .
(JoJo insisted on being part of things.) (And the 10 squares are finished, by the way. I'm currently contemplating adding 3 more to the original design.)
The other thing, though? The WiFi? Now THAT's a problem.
There is some sort of utility work happening on a nearby street, and on Monday mid-day our WiFi went out. From what I could tell, the outage (which is very localized and doesn't impact many people, although it does impact us) was supposed to last "up to 24 hours." Yesterday, after 27 hours without WiFi, I contacted AT&T and found out that it's some major issue . . . and may take up to 72 hours to fix.
I've figured out how to use my phone as a hotspot, but it's very slow.
And it's all made me realize how very dependent we are on having WiFi!
Want to watch something on TV? You need WiFi.
Compose a document or write a blog post? WiFi.
Watch your latest art tutorial? WiFi.
Work out on the Peloton? WiFi.
Print something? WiFi.
Airdrop a photo? WiFi.
Holy cow. So much of my day-to-day life depends on WiFi!
It's a good thing I have plenty of books and plenty of offline activities to keep me occupied. In the meantime, color me inconvenienced!
(And I certainly realize very how minor and insignificant these inconveniences are in the overall scheme of the world.) (I'm just whining.) (But most all of us are surprisingly dependent on WiFi in our daily lives these days -- and we really notice that when it's gone. It really is hard to be without it.)
PS. Our Wifi is back up this morning!