Bye Bye 2017!

One year ago we got a puppy. Her name is Lumin and she's adorable. She is completely attached to us and takes us for lots of walks every day. She acts as the resident cuddler, microbiome invigorator, stress-reduzierten dog, and mailman alert. She loves the mailman. He gives her treats, so she goes bonkers if he just drops the mail in the box without ringing the doorbell. We knew that a little babydog would give us an outlet for some of our feelings and needs. And we will probably never again have as much time, energy, and flexibility as she has demanded of us. This was our time to get a puppy. 

All the things I said I'd never do with my dog have happened. She wears clothes. She is lying next to me on the couch right now. We mix up fresh food for her. She doesn't like new people, but is a big fan of babies! I can't even admit to all of it. We are not the dog owners I thought we'd be and I love it anyway.

After bringing home a puppy in January, I started a yoga teacher training course in February. (Sorry Joshua!) In a few months I will take the final exam. My mom is a yoga teacher. I've done all kinds of yoga since before I was born, but this teacher training has forced me to go way deeper. I've learned to push myself. It's been good for me, personally, and I may even teach a class. In German, my friends. The teacher training has all been in German and so would the classes I'd teach. I can't believe it either.

Also in the category of learning and living in German, in March I started a job at the Engen Museum. I never feel like I have enough time in a museum. There's always way more art than I can appreciate before I'm exhausted and searching for the cafe. Now I have all the time in the world and I love it. There are permanent exhibitions on a local archeological site and the history of the town, and the rest is a contemporary art gallery. Regional and local artists have shows, I pour wine at openings, and I direct people to the closest Kaffee und Kuchen. Art and artists were a part of my childhood. It feels really good to be around art and artists again. 

One of those!

And in July we got ourselves a Kleingarten, or allotment garden. We'll grow veggies that we do not find in the shops, or that show up in small quantities, briefly, during a single season. We work outside, get dirty, and we've cajoled our friends into joining us for s'mores in the rain. 

It's a mess. The garden was neglected for years and the previous owners used it as a place to leave their trash. But the work (trash hauling) has paid off. Our friends have worked hard along side us, clearing, digging, hauling, and they've helped us with the weird unknowns of random trash disposal in Germany. Now we are focused on building a border so that Lumin doesn't whine about being tied up the entire time we're there. She can be as relentlessly noisy as an impatient toddler.

Yes, indeed. Kale.

What I've realized is that over the last year we have invested. We've taken on things that require day-to-day, month by month, and long term time commitments. Although I didn't spend the last few years describing my life this way, I think we were in a bit of a holding pattern. Well, we may have landed and settled in, we definitely made ourselves comfortable, but then we sat on that comfort. Maybe we were waiting, a little bit. 

Five years ago, during just this time of year, we were grasping for sense and making new plans because I had cancer. Five years.

Every year is a round of milestones with feelings bubbling up and memories coming around. But five years? It feels like an ending. I was told that once I hit the five year mark, my likelihood of getting cancer again would be the same as everyone else's. That's not exactly a lovely number, but it's better than the higher likelihood that I've been living with. I've been looking forward to getting to five years cancer-free and the wait is almost over. 

There's at least half a year to go, really. But each milestone, starting now, is a five-years-since milestone. I wonder if I'll stop counting at the end of 2018, one year from now.

Our patterns have changed. The longer narrative is more than a backdrop to the short stories that have punctuated the past few years. I look around and I cannot believe my luck. My New Year's wish for you is: whatever it is that you want to do, I hope that you find a way to do it now.

The Constant (Gardener): Joshua