So yesterday was the 8th day after Chemo and the first day I felt relatively human.
I still had a few moments where I had to sit down or fall down in a dramatic faint but definitely more stamina, more clarity. I can’t tell you what a relief it is to be able to think again.
Where I live this Easter holiday is experiencing its last gasp of winter flowing off the Siberian plains. In fact, it’s not that cold where I am, just damp and gloomy.
Today we took both dogs to the vet which is always exciting. English Springer Spaniel’s can be a handful and so very wild and free and happy. Well, mine is anyway. We rescued her from an abusive situation so I spoil her shamelessly. I feel no remorse for this at all.
But… winter is turning into Spring. I found flea dust on The Spaniel. Unfortunately with breast cancer the normal flea remedies are out of the question for us. Chemical fumes are out of the question. Chemicals in general are out of the question. So we’re moving to tablets.
Winter is turning into Spring.
It’s been raining. The ground is wet.
Just outside of the vet office is a small red post box stuck on a pole in the ground. At its base yellow daffodils cheerily bloom their hearts out.
Winter into Spring.
Dark gray skies and cold damp air and bunches of bright yellow everywhere. I love living here.
I read a post written by someone who is sitting with an old love as they go through the final stages of their terminal illness. She was requesting recommendations for the beautiful and uplifting as she sits with her loved one in her last days.
A friend recommended William Ackerman which reminded of a cold, wet, not quite Spring day in Oklahoma. I was tired and bored and brain dead from poverty when I stumbled into a record store and said, “Turn me onto something new.”
I can’t even imagine doing something like that now. Online social networking should be a godsend for introverts like me but it, in fact, it has increased my social anxiety and feelings of isolation. However, I have learned to spot the sacred in the profane and the music in silence.
Winter into Spring.
This punk rock guy in black leather and a Ramone’s t-shirt turned me onto Winter into Spring by George Winston, an early Windham Hill artist.
Honestly, I was sceptical at first, eyebrow definitely raised at a quirky angle but I liked the title. I bought it on vinyl. It was the 80s. I used to be impulsive. I’ve been listening to it every Spring for decades. Of course, now I have the mp3 version.
Winter into Spring
Maybe you would like it too.