It’s been over two months since I last posted here. Winter came and has almost gone now. Daffodils are poking up from the soil, trees are beginning to leaf out. It’s almost time to put hummingbird feeders up, here in the Pacific Northwest.
At our house we’ve been discussing the benefits of keeping a few chickens. We all love eggs, and love the idea of having the freshest eggs possible. My only reservation stems from the coyotes and hawks in the area. An enclosed yard would be safest, but I’m not sure we can afford that at the moment. Maybe we will just take a chance on letting them run free and see how it goes. Hubby built a six-chicken coop several years ago that we’ve since used as a storage shed. It wouldn’t take much to get it back into shape to house birds.
Our older son and his sweetheart are staying with us for awhile. They are expecting their first child this summer. That’s a big event in our lives. A very big event. I’ve been patiently waiting for a grandchild. Having cancer made the wait harder and more poignant. Even though my prognosis is excellent, we never know how long we will get to stay. Having cancer underscores that uncertainty and adds a sense of urgency to the dream of having tea parties and playing dress-up with an as-yet-unborn little granddaughter.
On the writing front, there is not much movement. I continue to experience an impaired ability to string words together. At times I seriously doubt that I ever could write or that I will ever write again. My kimo regimen has been extended to allow for breaks that let my white cell counts bounce back. I’ll be done the first week of May instead of April. It’s my understanding that most side effects of kimo disappear within two months. So maybe by the time summer is in full swing, I’ll be writing again. That sounds so good to me. Really, really good.
Thank you for stopping by to read. Please feel free to leave me a comment.
~ Nola
by Nola on January 1, 2012
It is the first day of the New Year, a day pregnant with every possibility. This could be the year when all my dreams come true. Or this could be the year full of even more challenges, financial and medical and personal. We never know for sure. The most we can do is keep a positive attitude, imagine the best outcome, and try to follow through on our goals and commitments.
I am continuing to do well with the kimo treatments. No major physical side effects, though I do have days when I am just plain tired. That’s to be expected, as blood cell counts get low. I know my body will bounce back again. (Thanks Mom and Dad for these tough pioneer genes.)
But what has been totally unexpected is my loss of interest/ability to write. I have a couple of really promising stories in process right now and neither of them is calling to me. When I do force myself to sit down and work on them, what comes out of my keyboard is about as inspired as oatmeal — without butter or raisins. We are talking very bland, sad writing. My cancer doc, Scott, says it’s a phenomenon called Chemo Brain. While I’m not at all impaired in my job as a bookkeeper, my ability to conjure tales seems to have disappeared.
The first week of April I’ll be done with kimo. Just three months from now. My body will regain it’s strength and vitality and be even better than before.
But what about my muse?
Well, I’ve always been a writer, since the time I was four or five. I have to believe I will be a writer again. I have to believe.