Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Still my favorite room in the house

Even when it's overcast or raining, the two large windows in the kitchen make it the brightest room in the house. We plan to take out part of the wall separating the living room from the kitchen and put in a breakfast bar. I look forward to having a little space to sit with a mug of cocoa and enjoy the light during the winter months.

Monday, October 15, 2007


For all that the forecast is "steady rain" for just about the entire six months between now and next April, I am consistently lucky enough to find breaks in the drizzle during which I can take Chloe for a nice long evening stroll. (And now I can step out through the grass and the puddles with cheerful, dry feet, thanks to these:

So very shallow of me, I know. But come on...I was actually wishing for it to rain since I got them, so I could have a valid reason to wear them. And! They match both my rainjacket and my warm coat. I take my joys where I can, babes.)

When we come back from a soggy walk, I have Chloe sit on the rug just inside the front door. We keep an old bath towel hanging on a hook next to the door, and when her head is all wet (whether from rain, or from her playful rolling in soaking wet grass...) she shoves insistently into the towel when I crouch down to dry her off. She nuzzles herself up under the crook of my arm...and while I know she just likes a) having her ears rubbed, and b) being dry again, it's still one of my favorite moments.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Cheaters never prosper

To the person who stumbled across my blog looking for a tidy answer to the "resolution of the Hobbit"--

1. Gandalf? Just a shapeshifting Warg.
2. After Gandalf devours Brand, Gollum becomes king of the lake-men.
3. Bilbo dies.

Watch your taillights blaze into nothingness

I hate goodbyes.

Last night I had to bid farewell to one of my best friends in this world or any other. She's moving to Nashville because she feels restless and ready for a change, and although I was at first quietly skeptical of her destination (What good can come out of Tennessee?), I am nothing but impressed by the way she has spent the last six months planning and doing and saving and now...she's actually going. Really and truly going to drive from Seattle to California to Tennessee.

We've been friends for ten years, a third of our lives (so far). I met her in college, where we shared a major, many classes, and volunteer experiences. Then after college we both spent a year with Americorps, and after that we were roommates for a couple of years.

When I look back on the last ten years, I'm amazed we've stayed so close. She had been good friends with my college boyfriend before he and I knew each other. When I decided I wasn't ready to get married and he and I broke up, various other friends found it too unfathomable and drifted away. (Not that that was the only reason I lost touch with various people...but it was a factor for a few.) She did not. When Mr. Thel and I first got together a couple of years later, she seriously disapproved of him, to the point that I really did think our friendship was over. But when her dire fears didn't pan out, she was big enough to put her reservations behind her and never speak of them again...

She's been like a sister to me, quarrels and bickerings and tears and all. I'm so proud of her for following through on a dream like this--and heaven knows, I understand how hard it is to go through with something others disapprove of, even when you know in your very core that it's the right thing for you to do. I've done it twice since I've known her. So even though I selfishly don't want her to go, even though I fret about how she'll do once she gets there, I understand her need to do this and I wish her well as she goes.

So bon voyage, anam chara. I promise to visit you in Nashville.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007


List of things I hope to accomplish between now and next July, the tenth anniversary of the year I had the cancer:

- dye my hair blue
- buy one of these and spend a month crisscrossing the continent
- ride the 2008 STP
- get a tattoo to mark the ten years

Gee, when you string it all together in one place like that, it looks awfully dramatic. Still, you only live once. Time to step out of the rut I've been treading for the last few years.

If I remember right, after ten years they start whispering the word "cured" instead of "remission." So now instead of fretting about a relapse, I can start worrying about my increased risk of breast cancer due to all the radiation I absorbed ten years ago. I get to start having mammograms ten years earlier than all the rest of you!