Our First Home

We fell into a little piece of heaven on Earth. Literally. Dan and I have moved. And it's a little home, that we own, that is magically cheaper than renting in Seattle - and trust me we were renting on the cheap. What a blessing. Dan and I keep pinching ourselves, between smiles and embraces we say things like, "How did we get so lucky?" "Why do we get to live this beautiful life?"

I used to feel like I had to be in Seattle, in the city, the epicenter, to be functioning. I needed the metro, the walkability, the mobility on my bike - all my friends were there, and I can't drive very far. But as Seattle continues to boom, and expand, and explode, the prices and the cost of living was an uphill battle. We were struggling to maintain, and with an ever present fear of a recurrence and the expense of current ongoing treatments, we started exploring other places to live. We considered the Washington peninsula, we looked at Camano (I refuse to call it an island since it doesn't require a ferry), we looked all over the north coast of the state, and eventually we found our perfect little spot. Edmonds. If you're not familiar with the area, or the state, Edmonds is a little seaside community just 25 minutes north of downtown Seattle.

When our mail person, Michelle found out we were moving, and we told her where we were headed, she laughed, cocked her face and said, "Are you retiring?" That's the reputation of Edmonds, that it's full of blue-hairs. But as you know me and my retirement home volunteering ways, it was one of the many things that drew us in. There's still a PCC, our local co-op grocery store that I love so dearly. We have a lovely dog park right on the water, full of sandy beach, and dog obstacle courses which Emma loves. There's a train that takes you directly into the city in one stop. Talk about an upgrade, from bus to train! (And it's the same price.) The whole town has a speed cap of about 30 miles per hour which is rarely met since no one is in a hurry - practically everyone's retired. It's the perfect place for me to drive. It's the perfect place for me to rest, to find my zen, to heal, and thrive. Our little house is less than a 10 minute walk to a hidden beach. Everywhere you go there's views of the Olympic mountains, and the emerald waters of Puget Sound. When you fill your lungs, each breath feeds you with salty ocean air. For an island girl and an island boy, it's as close as we can come to home.

I can't believe we have a home. And it has double paned windows! It's unfathomable how warm we now are; we're no longer cold to the bone. We have a tub for bathing, what a luxury! I can't wait for spring, to plant a jungle of a garden, to feed our bodies and our souls. I've joined a Monday morning writing group at the public library, and well over half have published at least one book. They're inspirational, and confident. I walk around downtown and visit with the shopkeepers, all but one so far have been family owned. It's a dream. But it's not. This is real, and it's ours; we're a part of it, and I am so grateful. Life keeps evolving, and you never know where it's going to take you. Just a few months ago we never thought we could afford a home, and continue my treatments at the same time. But when you expand your view, and reevaluate your goals and dreams, sometimes you surprise yourself. It's not as easy to see friends, but we keep in touch just the same. I'm looking out our living room window at the old growth pines across the street as they sway in the misty air and I'm filled with relief, and pure joy. Even through the troubles, and the heartache, and fear, I'm constantly reminded of our fortune. It's something I will never forget because I wear it. It's tattooed on my heart, on my soul.

[Weed] [Dope] Smoothie

I just created my first marijuana smoothie!(I'm such a nerd, I should probably call it weed or dope.)

It's absolutely delicious!! I used a little less than half a green apple, a large handful of marijuana leaves, and a handful of salad greens in water. It tastes minty, and fresh. And although, because it isn't heated, there are no psychoactive effects I still felt a slow wave of calm roll over me. It was wonderful. The acid (raw) forms of THC and CBD are supposed to help with inflammation, nausea, muscle spasms, and tons of other things, even anecdotal stories of it fighting tumors and cancer. And it's just like eating lettuce, or basil. It's fantastic! 

You guys know I love greens, and plants, and this is right up my alley. I am very grateful to have these fresh leaves, I wish I could afford enough, or have the space and privacy to grow forests full, so that I could eat a smoothie or two per day. I can only imagine how wonderful I would feel! For now I'm happy for what I've got. 

Yum.

Survivor Problems

Oh you guys it's so weird. There is this thing that I am realizing that many cancer patients go through. They have aggressive bouts of exhaustion, then they get depressed that they're not out doing things, not conquering the world. One of my beautiful camp buddies posted a dark photo of herself in the cavern of her bed. Her hair was mussed, her face pained. She was berating herself because she isn't as productive, and accomplishing as she was precancer, prediagnosis. Now this badass girl, I am not exaggerating, has had more cancers/medical issues, more surgeries/treatments/etc. than most humans will in their lifetime. The girl has been pin-cushioned, poisoned in the name of survival. She is a force, one of the largest personalities I know. I remember just watching her emitting her fearless vibes, her mastery of the rocks, the confidence in her soul, and when I saw her recent Instagram, my heart ripped for her. It still brings swells to my eyes. I had no idea how much this overwhelming exhaustion, and self doubt permeates the cancer world. It seems crazy when I look her, so obvious that she's being too hard on herself, but also I can relate perfectly. It's something I live everyday. It's so frustrating for us. And it's impossible to explain because we don't understand it either. We can't understand why our bodies and minds won't just do what we want. Is it all the cutting? The toxins, and foreign substances that have cursed through our veins? We don't know, but instead of just being patient with our bodies and our situations, we get sick of it. We get sick of being sidelined, sick of not being able to be the person we want to be, the person we once were, the person we should have been before everything changed, before it was taken away. I realize, conceptually, that I may never have the same energy, that I may be riddled with bouts of bedridden exhaustion, almost a depression or sadness, but I can't stop hoping that it will get better, that one day I will wake up and realize that I'm healed. That I'm back for good. Completely. Until then, I hope and pray that it gets better, because I know we're never going to give up and just allow ourselves to be ruined by this.