Some good things.

Today (well, I guess technically yesterday, tho I've not been to bed and it's still light, so I'm calling it today)...Today was all about small, good things.

First of all, I woke up happy. My husband and I had a "date" last night, and it was fun. We went out to eat at a place we hadn't tried before. I dressed up. The food was a bit sucky, but the dessert was delish, and it was no small triumph to get him to try something new — and to show him that it can be fun to go somewhere new even if it doesn't meet expectations. We talked more than we usually do and enjoyed each other's company like... well, like we were on a date. We even flirted with each other.

My flowers are beginning to flourish. There's a bit of an overabundance of purple, so yesterday (that would be Saturday) I bought some pretty yellow violas to add to the mix. Plus some bigger snapdragons, one yellow and one a mystery color.

I planted them this afternoon.

And then I freed a bunch of ladybugs I bought with the violas. I love ladybugs. It was fun. They crawled all over my hand as I shook them out of the mesh envelope. They scurried into the leaves of my chokecherry and into the Siberian peas and onto my sunflower seedlings and petunias and silverberries and all around the yard.

Not only will they eat lots and lots of nasty bugs, they're good luck, too! It might sound silly, but I really do believe it's good luck when a ladybug lands on you, so I've just spread good fortune all over the place.

The television wasn't on today.

I called my best friend in the world and he made me laugh nonstop for an hour. We talked about his new motorcycle. I teased him hard. He teased me back.

And then I had a long chat with a long-lost friend from more than 30 years ago. Reconnecting made me really happy. Talking to someone from my adolescence made me remember who I was back then — and now I know that young girl is still here somewhere inside the woman I am now.

I've been feeling a bit old lately, so I needed the reminder.

And that was about it, really. Just enough small, pleasant things to make up a good day.

[Oh. I cheated and posted a picture of one of last year's sunflowers. Because it makes me happy. Yay!]

Good news and sunshine!

And lots of it.

We've got more than 18 hours of sun per day now and still increasing.

Even better, the mammograms turned out fine. Interestingly, it was a fairly pleasant experience because the tech was funny and kind and let me look at the digital images as they came up. I haven't got a lot of breast tissue, and they wanted her to get images all the way into the muscle wall, so I'm still a bit battered, but very relieved.

I'm also puzzled that nothing showed up when there definitely are masses of something -- and not just in the left breast as I'd thought. Still, they'd also ordered an ultrasound (which I didn't expect) and the radiologist came in during that to reassure me and let me know I should just pay attention and get another exam in about 6 months. I wish I'd thought to ask about a connection between Sjogren's and whatever the masses might be, but I'll ask my regular doc.

It has been gloomy and chilly for the past week or so, but the sun is amazing today. I'm headed into Fairbanks to make some deliveries and then to pick up some bedding plants. Yep, it's still too early, but I put them in containers and can drag them indoors if I need to at night. I'll just get the cheapie stuff from Fred Meyers today; next weekend it will be time for a trip out to Plant Kingdom for the good stuff.

Thursday was the first day I've felt human in quite awhile: In addition to the stress over the cancer issue, I really did overdo it on production for an order. But that's gone now, and I'm going to do my best to enjoy this beautiful afternoon. Maybe a walk in Creamer's Field is in order, since I'll be in town anyway. And G. and I need to drive down to the Chena and take a look. Can't believe we haven't done that yet.

I wish I could learn to take potentially bad news as just that: potential, and not immediately assume the worst. But I'm a little like a rubber band that's been stretched a few times too many, and I don't have the resilience anymore. I'm hoping rest and conscious pursuit of the good and beautiful in this life will bring some of that back.

Thank you, everyone, for helping me through this. Your kindness and reassurance helped me keep a lid on some of the crazy, and I knew that even if it came to the worst, I wasn't alone. Much love to you all.

Flat Feet

First of all, thank you so much for writing/calling/caring about me. Remembering we're not alone in the world is the best antidote for fear that I can think of.

I have an appointment on Monday afternoon for the digital mammogram and assume I'll get some sort of response not too long after that. I'll let you know how it goes.

I've been wanting to post pictures of this wonderful sock yarn, Flat Feet by Conjoined Creations. It arrives as two mirror-dyed pre-knit panels that you unravel to knit. I can't remember having so much fun with a yarn. There's absolutely no way to tell what's going to happen with the colors.

I almost forgot to snap a pic before I'd knit too far into the second sock. I'd intended to take a photo after I finished the first sock with the second panel intact, but I guess I was just too excited not to cast on... and knit...

But here's the finished first sock and most of the second panel with the second sock begun. Just plain sock; after dithering over fancy patterns, I decided I'd rather just see what the yarn does on its own. I've got a little less than a quarter panel left from the first sock so will probably use that and the remains of the second panel to make baby socks for Afghans for Afghans.

Once you get used to the crimps in the yarn (from being pre-knit), this is a dream to work with. Crimps didn't bother me as I tend to keep tight tension while knitting and use my whole hand to cast the yarn around the needle (self-taught, bad habits, what can I say?). Blocking is supposed to remove all traces of crimping from the final product, but I'm not sure I'm going to block because as it is now, there's a lot of spring and cushion in the sock. And the bumples smooth out anyway when I put it on.

I'll definitely be buying more Flat Feet. There are so many creative colorways and dye patterns, no two alike. And what a joy to carry this around instead of yarn balls that bounce and roll around on dirty floors when knitting in public. Plus, I just wrap the sock and needles up in the flat when I'm done knitting, and Voila! Instant knitting case and project all in one.

Sending lots of love back out into the world...

Kristin

Will it never end?

Had my annual "Well Woman Exam" yesterday. It was my last appointment with my all-time favorite doc — she's leaving the Army, good for her! — so we were chatting and laughing while she worked. Everything was great until she got to the breast exam.

"Have you ever felt this before?"

Put my fingers there, and damn. No. I'd never felt it before, but sure did then.

The room closed in a little and neither of us laughed much after that. Just so happens the lump is in my left breast. I had a mammogram last year, and the initial images seemed to suggest something in that breast, so they did a repeat with more compression (which I didn't believe was possible, but that's another story). After my various cancer experiences, I was scared, but the second image didn't show anything, and the radiology doctor said the first was probably a shadow or anomaly or something. So no worries.

Scared again. The lump feels large enough that I don't understand how I could have missed it.

She ordered a diagnostic mammogram, so I went to schedule it. The mammographer called me back almost immediately and said that I needed to have a digital mammogram this time at the civilian hospital. She said she was walking the request through the channels and that I should get an appointment almost immediately.

Now I'm really scared.

But I'm also grateful to my wonderful doc... The first one to listen to everything I said to her, to believe I knew and understood my own body, and to fight for me when I needed referrals to the Mohs specialist and the rheumatologist.

This has kicked my PTSD into high gear. I've slept more hours than I've been awake since the appointment, although I've got a ton of work to do. I want to talk to G. about it, but he was so obviously shaken when I told him on the phone that I hesitate to bring it up again yet. I need to cry but am still numb.

So, if you're reading this, I'd appreciate your good thoughts and energy once again.

It was 85 degrees today; all the snow is gone, and we have a temporary pond in our side yard. Looks like we could stock it with fish. The mosquitos and various flies are mobbing the windows. Tomorrow, I must make myself get outside and walk around a bit. Take the focus out a little farther than the end of my own nose.

Oddly enough, here's something that makes me feel better. Everybody in the world must have seen the YouTube video of Snowball the dancing cockatoo who loves the Backstreet Boys. I've always been interested in whether other animals besides humankind experience music the way we do, so I'm really happy that there are some researchers out there taking a look. Here's the video from Science Friday:

Struggling a bit

I'm just really tired, and probably a bit whiny and cranky, too.

I have a bazaar at Eielson AFB Saturday, and as always I've waited until the last minute to get enough stock together. Rather, to try to make enough. So I'm working in overdrive, which used to be a rush but now is just exhausting and abusive to my body.

This bazaar hasn't happened in several years, and I've never done it. So I don't really know what to expect: a long, empty day or a big rush of customers. The Red Flag military exercises are going on, which means lots of pilots and personnel from other countries, perhaps looking for gifts and souvenirs to take home. Hope so.

I love selling in person. It's just the best -- to be able to watch somebody fall in love with a piece and walk away happy, wearing it. So I'm not complaining about the bazaar.

But I'm just gonna say it: Sjogren's Syndrome sucks. It's bad enough to have a bi-polar personality (either on or off, no in-between switch), but to have Sjogren's on top of it is just crappy. Because Sjogren's demands that I do things on its terms, not mine, and it would much prefer an in-between pace. It wants me to get regular sleep, to take breaks, to alternate tasks... And sometimes it doesn't want me to work at all. It would like for me to sit like a lump and stare at the wall.

Well, maybe not. Maybe that's its punishment for not obeying the other rules.

So right now, my arms and hands ache miserably, the fatigue is almost overwhelming, and my eyes have that sand-torture feeling (like somebody slowly drizzled sand into them). I'd go take a nap, except that I just got up not too very long ago.

Still, I have a bazaar to do and I'm nowhere near ready, so Sjogren's, you're just going to have to whip me afterwards. Okay?

Baby blanket done and gone

Finally finished this baby blanket for afghans for Afghans. It's knit in a simple moss stitch from a really bulky alpaca/wool yarn donated to the group and divvied up amongst us willing knitters. Sometimes I felt the knitting would never end, but when I did, I'd remember to think about the baby or child who will be so much warmer wrapped in it.

From afghans for Afghans knit-and crochet-along

And I know how warm and soft it is, because not only was I covered in it while I worked, I also cuddled in it for an hour or so just to be sure it was completely dry. It took more than two days for it to dry, but washing it was crucial.

I also enclosed a pair of bright fuschia kids' socks. I hope they'll cheer somebody up as well as keep their toes warm. Afghani people remove their shoes when indoors, and heating is very poor to nonexistent. I've seen pictures of barefoot children in school in what looks like a very cold building. So I know these will make somebody happy.

And that's what it's all about: Keeping someone warm and making them smile. Keeps me going.

My rainbow...

Your rainbow is strongly shaded orange and violet.

What it says about you: You are a creative person. You
appreciate a challenge. You are patient and will keep trying
to understand something until you've mastered it.
Others are amazed at how you don't give up.

Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.